The Spirit of Revenge (9 page)

They continued in silence, lost in thought. The monotonous crunching of their horses’ hooves in the smooth sand and pebbles of the road filled the quiet.

“Armeth called us Warriors,” Joshua murmured as if to himself, “I like the sound of that.”

Cain looked at him and smiled. “The Warriors…I could get used to that.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Everything has changed…” Aaron muttered after a while. Everyone looked at him curiously.

“Just think,” he continued as they listened tentatively. “Only three days ago our entire world was turned around. How do things change the way they do? Why did it have to end this way? You start to ask yourself…”

“Why us,” Cain finished for him.

“Aye,” Aaron nodded. “Why us…”

The following day, the Warriors continued through the lifeless plains of Kaanos. Clusters of trees spread sparse across the rolling countryside, little green to please the eye in a world of lackluster fields.

They passed few travelers on the road and even fewer villages. They were alone in their near silent journey, save the occasional song of a morning bird.

A raven flew overhead, eyeing them intently and screeching into the noonday sun.

Cain turned his attention back to the ground and unlatched a saddlebag near his knee. He took out a bundle of dried meats wrapped in wax. He removed the twine that bound it firmly together and separated the food, tossing a handful to each of his friends.

He then removed the map of Tarsha that Ethebriel had given him. He unrolled the parchment and found the small dot labeled Dun Ara.

He scanned the map for a moment before reporting to his friends, “Dun Ara is south of Charun’s border by a three days ride. We should be seeing hills by tomorrow.”

The Warriors urged their mounts up a ridge of hills. Their horses ascended the steep slope, hooves fumbling on the loose shale. After several minutes of labored climbing, they reached the crest of the hillocks.

Large hills stretched across the land as far as the eye could see, intertwined and laced together to provide a complicated series of channels before them. They stood on a large ridge of hills opposite a seemingly identical ridge.

Below them was a steep slope leading into the bottom of a valley. Trees spread thin across the valley, their thorny limbs baking in the afternoon sun.

They had lived in the plains of Kaanos their entire lives and had never seen anything as green as the distant lands before them.

“Charun…”Aaron whispered to himself, awestruck by the view. The others absorbed the striking scene from their vantage point as Cain reined his horse ahead of them.

“We will follow the valley to the west,” he pointed to the gorge below and traced an imaginary line through the canyon with his finger. “We’ll see how far we can go before we set camp, but…I doubt we’ll get very far in this terrain.” They nodded tiredly and followed their friend.

Cain led them through a cluster of trees and down a small rocky path that cut through the steep hillside.

They followed the trail down the valley wall towards the gully and picked a path through the rocks with care. They eventually reached the bottom of the path and came under the shade of several trees.

The valley was far more daunting once they were in its depths than at its towering crest. The walls of the valley loomed several hundred feet above them. The sun peered down on the travelers from between the hilltops, the midday heat blaring directly on top of them.

They looked around the valley for a moment as Cain searched for a path through the western end of the gully. He gestured for his friends to follow and reined his horse forward.

They rode close to the opposite side of the valley, the high walls scarcely shielding them from the heat of the noon sun. The rocks under their hooves seared in the heat and their horses struggled onward with every step.

After several hours of riding, they stopped under a large cluster of trees where gnarled limbs hung low over the ground. The group dismounted and threw themselves under the shade. They drew out their water skins and gulped down the warm water.

“You’re sure this is the right way, Cain?” Silas asked him.

“We’re going northwest aren’t we?” he replied, “The gorge we are following stays mostly on a straight path. It should take us to the Crossroads if we follow it. I will get us to Abraxas safely…I hope.”

The next day, they followed the valley system deeper into Charun, the hours passing away with every tired step.

As the sun hung low in the sky, they finally came to the end of the valley. They saw through the dimming light that the gorge narrowed drastically ahead of them.

They entered the tapering ravine and followed it up a gradually ascending slope. Soon they came out at the crest of the valley and emerged into an open expanse.

They stood on a large terrace that loomed out over a labyrinth of valleys. The plateau was flat and barren at its northern end and behind the Warriors and to their sides was a thick line of thorny trees.

They climbed off their horses and tethered them to the trees, and after giving them a drink, crossed the plateau. As they neared the cliff’s edge, they noticed that it extended out over a rocky path below.

The foot of the terrace melded into a slope that extended out ahead for several yards. At the end of the path, a series of hills stretched as far as they could see. The setting sun gilded the skies with a vibrant orange, its warm glow now resting atop the shoulders of the hills.

“At least it’s not more valleys…” Joshua remarked as they stood staring over the hundreds of hills dotted across endless fields. A warm breeze whipped across the plateau as they walked back to their horses.

Cain stayed at the head of the plateau and scanned the hills for a course to follow. After a few minutes, he turned and walked towards the others.

“I found a trail leading down into the hills; I think we could get to the bottom from here.”

The men saddled their horses, confident in their friend’s abilities. They followed him through the trees and came to a small dirt path that extended out from the tree line.

They followed the trail that wound its way down the side of the plateau. The path was narrow and hugged closely to the cliff face. Below them was a steep rock wall that stood a hundred feet or so above the floor of the ravine.

They eyed the edge of the trail, imagining themselves impaled on the jagged rocks below. They avoided the edge and followed the precarious path down into the plateau.

Eventually, the trail leveled out and they followed it for several minutes. The pathway abruptly ended and they came to the base of a small knoll.

They ascended the hill and then dismounted. All around them were hundreds of knolls in varying stature, strewn across the vast landscape. They removed their horses’ saddles and let them graze on the grassy prominence.

They soon lit a small fire and passed several strips of dried meat among themselves. They lay down on their mats and stared up at the hues of a dying sun, gnawing halfheartedly on their paltry rations.

“What I wouldn’t give for an actual bed right now,” Joshua muttered as he tossed away a rock hidden under his mat. “How long until we get to Abraxas anyway?”

“By looking at the map…” Cain replied wearily, “I’d say probably a week until we get to the Crossroads and another four or five days after that…if we continue at the rate we’re going that is.”

“And how fast would that be?” Silas asked.

Cain laughed lightly, “Not fast enough…”

F
or the next few days, The Warriors crossed the endless knolls and valleys of Charun, riding ever west towards Abraxas. The sun rose and set, an endless and perpetual course across the heavens.

As noon came and passed, they rode around the side of a hill and came to a river. Its waters flowed swift and rapid, broken here and there by jutting rocks. A vast expanse of green field stretched before them.

A complicated series of gullies cut through the hills at the other end of the expanse. Several small rivers flowed over fields afar and converged in the maze of gullies. The rivers merged as one at the heart of the ravines, crashing into each other like a great storm. It formed a mighty whirlpool, its roar heard even miles away.

Cain scanned the Crossroads, searching desperately for a path to follow, but every ravine either lead to a dead end or merely merged into another. For several minutes, he sought frantically for a path through the labyrinth, but found none.

He sat back in his saddle and ran a hand through his hair. The others looked at him fretfully, if he could not find a way through the Crossroads, then none of them would. They sat for several minutes in silence and gazed out over the gullies, the river beside them rumbling past.

Cain turned to his friends and informed them, “It looks like this river here flows into the middle of the Crossroads. If we can follow it, it should be able to get us at least halfway through those gullies. But if we do follow it, there’s a chance there might not even be a riverbank in those narrow channels.”

“We can give it a try,” Aaron replied, “it would get us at least halfway through.” The others nodded in agreement.

“All right then, we’ll try it.” Cain spurred his horse forward and led the others down the hill and across the grassy expanse.

They soon reached the Crossroads and gazed up at the walls of rock looming before them. The ravine trailed off into the distance before merging into hundreds of smaller gullies.

They sighed heavily and guided their horses into the narrow gully. Shadows immediately enveloped them.

The roar of the river reverberated off the walls and echoed loudly in the narrow channel. The waters flowed violently through the gullies, throwing sprays of cool vapor in the air that rained down on the travelers. The entrance to the Crossroads disappeared in the distance as they continued deeper into the ravine.

Silas stared over the whitewater that rushed swiftly by. He soon noticed a dark shadow appear on its surface. The swift flow of the river and rocks it broke upon morphed its shape and soon it disappeared. After a moment, he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye.

He let out a startled cry as a figure fell from the cliff top above and crashed into him. The figure tackled into him and tossed him from his saddle.

The others swerved their horses around and drew their swords at this sudden attack. Silas rolled to a stop near the river’s edge and his attacker leapt on him, clawing and biting with blind ferocity. The figure drooled over his face, revealing the foul fangs of an Arzec.

The two struggled across the grass, the Arzec near throwing him into the churning waters. The Arzec raised a sword, the tip pricking Silas’s neck as he cursed with disdain. With a desperate heave, he tossed his attacker off and ripped the sword from its owner before thrusting the blade through its chest.

Silas jumped to his feet, soaked with frigid water and panting from exertion. He kicked the body over, cruel fangs grinning up at him through gushing blood. “Why’s an Arzec-”

The shrill note of a horn rang ominous in their ears. The Warriors drew their weapons and formed a tight cluster with their horses, uncertain as to what awaited them.