Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (37 page)

“Going somewhere?” A voice sneered at him from near the tree.

Aaron turned, and his blood ran cold at the sight of Jefflem standing over him.

“You're not going anywhere tonight.” Jefflem said with an evil grin covering his face. As he spoke, he patted the club that he carried with him.

Aaron tried to roll away, but Jefflem only laughed and lifted the club. Aaron, knowing what was about to happen attempted to cover his head with his arms, but it didn't help. Pain erupted through his head, and darkness engulfed him.

Chapter 15

Flare knelt over the fire, trying to chase away the chill of the early morning air. They had followed the Southern road until it forked, and then they had followed the southeastern branch. He wanted to avoid any potential problems that traveling through Aramonia would certainly invite, so he had decided to travel south through Dalar. Dalar was a rival of Telur's, and the two countries were always at odds, but trade routes were always open between the two. Plus the roads through Dalar were almost as safe as the roads in Telur.

After the Southern road forked, it was called the Arium highway, and led to the capital of Dalar to the southeast. Dal-Arium was the capital, and rivaled Telur in size and influence.

So they had followed the
Arium Highway
until it hit the Adelion river. There they had crossed over on a ferry, all the time keeping a look out for anyone who might be paying too much attention to them. No one even bothered to look at them twice. Atock didn't even draw many looks, and his dark skin coloring was rather rare in these parts. Not unheard of, but rare.

On their journey south, they had settled into a routine. They broke camp at sunrise, and traveled almost until dusk, stopping several times for breaks along the way. On two occasions, they had been lucky enough to come across a small town late in the day, and had been able to sleep at the inn. The rest of the nights, they slept under the stars. Each night, Atock took the first watch, Philip took the second, and Flare had the final watch. They had become comfortable in their routine, in fact, he was afraid that they might be getting too comfortable. It was hard to remain alert when all you passed was farm after farm and village after village.

Flare stirred the fire, which was getting close to going out, and breathed into his hands. The temperature had been getting colder each day, and even though they were traveling south where it was warmer, it seemed that the cold was moving south faster than they were. He grimaced, knowing that they couldn't win the race with the cold weather. He was pleased with how fast they were traveling, they were at most several days from Dal-Arium. And from there, it shouldn't be more than seven to ten days for them to reach Helum. The trip to Helum wasn't what concerned him; it's what was to come after Helum that worried him; the Catacombs under
Mount
Ogular
.

Flare's thoughts turned to the other guardians, as it often did. Was their trip going as smoothly? Doubts still plagued him about splitting the group up. Was he just being paranoid? He still didn't think so, even with the easiness of the trip so far.

The eastward sky was turning pink as the sun started to rise. Anxious to get moving, he walked over and prodded Atock with his foot. At first, Atock didn't stir, so Flare prodded a little harder. All of a sudden, Atock bolted upwards to a sitting position, his hand scrambling to find his sword. He stopped after a moment, seeming to realize where he was. “Why do you do that?” He grumbled. “Is that the only way you can think of to wake me up?” He rubbed his eyes while speaking.

Flare grinned, “I could dump water on you.”

Atock sighed, but said nothing. Flare waited a moment, and then moved over and prodded Philip awake. He was even harder to wake than Atock, and complained even more.

As they neared Dal-Arium, towns and farms became more numerous on the eastern side of the road. On the western side of the road, a great forest stretched to the west and south. Even from the road, Flare could see a scattering of ancient oaks with massively thick trunks. He was surprised to see them this close to the road, wondering what types of trees the deep depths of the forest must hide.

Philip watched Flare as they rode along the edge of the forest, “What is it with you elves and the trees?” He asked, shaking his head. “I mean, after all it's just a tree.”

Flare stirred at Philip's words. The oaks had made him think of home, and for the first time in a long time, he thought of Solistine and his family. A sense of melancholy had come over him. “Reminds me of home,” he answered softly. “I miss the forests where I grew up.”

Philip glanced over at Atock, “How about you? Are you missing home, as well?”

Atock shook his head, fighting a small grin. “No. But I do miss the serving girls from my father's palace.”

Philip made a face. “Is that all you can think about? I suppose you think with your pecker.” He said in exasperation.

Atock shrugged, “Well, I do go where it points.”

Both Atock and Flare laughed at the joke, but Philip looked disgusted. “How base can you be?” He mumbled to no one in particular.

They continued south on the road towards Dal-Arium, and Flare was surprised to see that the forest continued relatively close to the road. As they went farther south, the forest was pushed back from the road, but it still was no more than a quarter mile. He would have thought that there would have been villages or farms on the western side of the road, at least this close to the capital, but there were none.

Early in the mid-afternoon, they rounded a sharp bend in the road that curved back around an outcropping of the forest, and were surprised to see a group of people off to the side.

All three of the guardians pulled up short, sensing trouble. Seven warriors, dressed in the green and grey uniforms of Dalarian soldiers, had what looked like a woman captive. Flare couldn't see much of the woman, as she was lying curled up on the ground. As the guardians rounded the corner, the nearest soldier kicked the woman in the gut and she groaned in pain.

The soldiers, all of whom were gathered around the woman, became aware of the riders almost immediately. A large man, who wore a gold stripe on the shoulders of his green shirt, stepped toward them. “Move along. We just caught a wildling, but we have everything under control.” Flare wasn't sure, but he thought that the gold stripe marked the man as a lieutenant, but regardless, he was the leader.

Flare hesitated, glancing at both Atock and Philip. His hesitation did not go unnoticed. The leader of the soldiers moved closer to the riders, half-drawing his sword as he did so. “I said move on.” He said, his expression hardening. His men hurried over to stand behind him, all except one, who stayed with the woman. Flare was impressed, the men were well trained, none of them drew their swords, instead they just rested their hands on their sword hilts. They watched their commanding officer for direction.

Flare raised his hands out in front of him, “No offense. We're just traveling through and we don't want any trouble.”

The soldiers relaxed a little. “Fine, then move along.”

“If you don't mind, did you say you caught a wildling?” Flare asked looking over at the woman on the ground. “I'm not familiar with that name. What are wildlings? Looks like a woman to me.”

The soldier with the stripe looked from Flare to Philip, and Flare silently cursed himself. Philip was supposed to be acting as the one in charge, and one of the first chances that they get, Flare forgets his own plan and speaks out. He was sure that the soldier would remember them now. Turning quickly to Philip, Flare said, “Your pardon, sir. I hope that you don't mind me asking. My curiosity got the better of me.”

A brief look of confusion flashed over Philip's face, but it was gone almost immediately. “Uh, no, that's fine.”

The soldier looked from Philip to Flare again, and he had a puzzled look on his face. Flare silently cursed again. The man suspected something. Oh, he didn't have a clue what was going on, but he could sense that something wasn't right. He would definitely remember them now.

The soldier shrugged, “Wildlings are human, but they are cursed. They live in the forests and follow dark gods, who give them strange powers.”

Philip glanced over to the woman lying on the ground. “Doesn't look like she has any strange powers to me. I mean, if she had, wouldn't she have put up more of a fight?”

The soldier also looked over at the woman on the ground. There were ten of us when we found her.” He said quietly. “She killed three of us before
Erin
got close enough to hit her on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword.” One of the soldiers standing behind the leader smiled a faint smile.

“I see.” Philip said. “So what now? Do you take her to the city for a trial?”

The leaders' eyes narrowed, “Well, I guess that we are supposed to do that, but the courts are so busy these days. I think that we'll save everyone some time and take care of her ourselves.”

Flare tensed, and he could feel his two companions tensing as well. He didn't like the idea of a woman being murdered on the side of the road by the very men who were supposed to be upholding the law. This could get bad very quickly.

Philip spoke first, “But aren't you required to return her to the city? I mean won't your superiors want to question her?”

“What business is it of yours?” The soldier snapped back at them. “I am in command here,” he was in the middle of speaking, when he just trailed off for a moment. Then he started speaking again, but in a quieter more devious tone. “Oh, I get it. You want a turn. Is that it?”

Philip looked questioningly at the man, “A turn?”

“Yeah. Well, she is a woman, after all. Might as well put her to a good use, before she dies. Don't you think?” As he spoke, he had a leering grin on his face; he turned and looked over at the woman as he spoke. “I guess three more won't hurt, but you'll have to go last.”

It all happened so fast. So fast, that Flare almost couldn't follow what happened. Almost before the leader of the soldiers had finished speaking, Philip drew a knife and threw it at the lieutenant. The man was turning back from looking over at the woman, and the blade caught him on the side of the throat. A dark line appeared on the right side of his throat and immediately blood started to squirt from the wound. The lieutenant grabbed at his throat and fell over, as the blood gushed through his hands.

Flare was in motion, even before the knife had struck home. He drew his sword and charged the surprised soldiers, who were still watching their leader in astonishment. Their training warned them that they were in trouble, and they started to turn, but they were too slow. He slashed at a soldier and had the satisfaction of seeing his sword bite deep into the man's neck. The man fell screaming to the ground, his hands futilely trying to hold in his life's blood, but Flare was already moving past him, the momentum of his horse carrying him past the first soldier. He swung his bloody sword at the next nearest soldier, but the sword sailed over the man's head. This soldier had recovered enough from his initial surprise to dive to the ground and roll away from the hooves of Flare's horse.

Flare and his horse charged right through the small group of men, and he swung his horses' head to survey the situation. The soldiers were trying to regroup and he was glad to see that a total of three of them were now down. Atock had also charged the men, and one of them had also fallen to his sword. He had only drawn one of his swords, and now held it in his right hand, while holding the reins with his left.

There were three of the Dalarian soldiers in fighting condition. The one that Flare had taken out, was still alive, and was now groaning in pain. Atock had not left his alive, and Flare noticed that the soldier's head had been almost completely severed; the head was just barely still attached to the body by a small strip of skin. The three remaining soldiers stood back to back, with their swords drawn. Two were facing Atock and Flare, and the other was facing Philip.

“Are you crazy?” The soldier called
Erin
shouted at them, crouching near his fallen lieutenant. “If you're lucky, you'll get a quick execution for this!” He held his sword point up, facing the nearest guardian.

“If we're lucky?” Atock asked.

Erin
glared up at the guardians on their horses, “Yes. If you're not lucky, your death could take days.” He looked from Atock to Flare, “If you surrender, I can guarantee you a quick death.”

Flare shook his head, “Is that the best lie you can tell us? I think we will take our chances.” He gripped the reins tighter, as his horse side stepped to the right.

“Fool,”
Erin
spat back at him. He stood up and moved away from the lieutenant, his eyes moving from Flare to Atock and back.

Philip had not charged the soldiers, and it had turned out for the best. It was now a three on three fight, and the guardians were mounted with the Dalarian soldiers in the middle. Their attention was divided between the two groups of mounted guardians, and Philip hoped to press their advantage. He smiled; one of the foolish soldiers had actually just offered to let the guardians surrender. He drew his sword, his horse prancing to the left as he did so. He glanced towards Flare, and their eyes met for just a moment. Then Philip yelled and kicked his horse forward in a sprint towards the small knot of soldiers. Almost immediately, he pulled back on the reins, forcing the horse to a frantic stop. His false charge had the desired affect. One of the two soldiers that had been facing away from him, turned completely around, expecting that Philip was charging them. The second soldier, that had been facing away, partially turned to see what was going on, but then realizing the danger, he quickly turned his attention back to Atock and Flare, but it was already too late.