Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)
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Janen turned to stare into the woods again. Once upon a time, he realised, he would have been laying on his back staring at the stars. He looked up, it was nice to have a clear sky for a change, the stars were so beautiful. He soon returned to gazing into the trees again though, he had fallen in love with forests and the teeming life they held. Neither Janen nor Syngar moved to get the smoked meat they had in their saddlebags. They were in too much pain to contemplate eating.

When Janen was dry, he moved toward his clothes to dress. He wanted to submerge his burns again but he knew it would only offer temporary relief and he was cold and tired. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep with the pain but he was too tired to remain sitting. He reached for his shirt but Kalen who was returning with the pot of cream prevented him.

“Janen, wait. Sit down.” Painfully he complied. She reached toward his face with a thick wad of cream on her fingers, he flinched away but she moved the extra distance, smothering his most painful burn with the mixture. Janen gasped, the relief was instantaneous. The cream was cold from the stream and seemed to suck the pain out of his sore immediately. He eagerly allowed her to smother the rest of his burns.

When she was finished, he sat back in contentment. The salve worked miraculously, relieving his pain much more effectively than the water had done. The sting was completely gone, leaving behind a sweet sensation wherever the cream touched that felt somehow nicer than the rest of his unharmed skin.

Kalen moved onto Syngar before finally smearing herself with the lavender coloured cream. Janen smiled in contentment. His cuts still hurt, but he could bear with their much more honest seeming pain. He looked over at Syngar, ready to share a smile with the ever-cheerful man, but Syngar was not smiling. His face was drained of colour and he was still holding his stomach.

“Kalen,” Janen said nodding towards Syngar.

“I know,” she replied in a worried tone. “Let me see it,” she said as she pulled Syngar’s shirt up.

Janen gasped when he saw how much blood had soaked into the cloth that Syngar had obviously tied around himself.

“You should have shown me this earlier!” Kalen said angrily.

“What could you have done about it?” he replied through gritted teeth as she pulled the bandage away. She didn’t answer him.

“Come closer to the fire where I can see it better,” she commanded him.

“Another patient for you to boss around,” he quipped as he painfully got to his feet and shuffled over to the fire.

Janen watched as Kalen examined the wound.

“You’ll survive, usually I’d sew it but I have no needle or thread. Can you please clean this and fill it with water,” she said to Janen handing him the pot. She left Syngar and headed into the trees to collect some more wood for the fire. Kalen built the fire up and while she waited for the water to boil set Janen to tearing up a blanket into bandages while she collected some more greenleaf. She put a few of the new bandages into the boiling water and turned on Janen.

“Have you cleaned your cuts properly?” she demanded.

“I lay down in the stream,” he replied meekly.

“Let me see them.”

She inspected Janen closely by the firelight. When she was finished, she sat back with a grumpy “Hmph. I hate not having my supplies.”

She cleaned Syngar’s wound with a hot wet bandage, ignoring his protests about it burning, then pulled it closed as best she could, covered it with the leaves and bound it with another clean bandage.

“That’s all I can do tonight,” she said angrily and left to collect her bedroll.

Janen helped Syngar get his shirt back on, and then got him into his bedroll, before wearily climbing into his own.

****

Caris and Crispin sat staring into the fire eating their meat. It was the most tender and tasty meat Caris had ever eaten. She hadn’t gathered any greens but there would be plenty of quillet left over to dry so she ate until her stomach hurt. Crispin went straight back to sleep after his meal and Caris washed off the day’s sweat, all the while keeping a wary eye on the oppressive bush across the creek.

When she was finished, she busied herself preparing the meat and getting everything ready for an early departure on the morrow. She hoped to push through as much of the bush as possible on their first day. The less time spent in there the better. She hoped Crispin would be able to keep his seat for at least half the afternoon.

Caris woke early after a dreadful night’s sleep; she had dreamt of Janen all night. She found herself missing Bonny with her caring hugs and friendly distracting voice. Crispin was still in a deep sleep and the sun had not long been up. The bush looked dark and forbidding. Caris decided to wait until the sun was higher in the sky with its light penetrating the bush a bit more before setting out. Crispin would not last until sunset, so there was no advantage in starting too early.
Better to let him sleep and start out when there is more light,
she thought.

Caris gathered some greens and the pink mushrooms, Crispin had told her were safe to eat, and put them in a pot with water and some quillet. She re-lit the fire and put the pot on the edge of it so the stew could warm slowly. Then she sat down and started working on another arrow. She had decided that fifteen arrows was not enough, she never wanted to run short like she had in her flight from the grey-scaled creatures again. She didn’t think her quiver would hold more than a score, and still allow her to withdraw them quickly, but she had been planning another quiver that would hold more and could be strapped to the side of Indira’s saddle.

As she worked on her arrow, she distracted herself from her worries about Janen by focusing on the problem of how she would attach the quiver to the saddle in a way that allowed quick removal in an emergency.

Midmorning they crossed the creek and, choosing the widest path, entered the gloom of the bush. Caris was forced to take the lead again as the path was too narrow for her to wander alongside. Indira was skittish and though Crispin was a good rider, Caris repeatedly had to stop to sooth her nervous horse. Caris picked the fastest pace she thought she could maintain for the entire day. She kept finding her step quickening into a jog, and repeatedly forced herself to slow down, conserving her energy.

Unlike the quiet of the tall trees, this bush was full of the sound of animals. Caris embarrassed herself more than once by jumping back from a sudden rustling in the undergrowth beside her.

They hadn’t gone far before the path they were following petered out. Caris forced her way around bushes and through knee high growth until they finally found another path. As they worked their way deeper into the bush, it grew increasingly dark. No path they followed seemed to go very far before ending and forcing them back into their fight against the persistent brush.

Caris guessed it must have been about midday, when exhausted, she finally came out from behind some bushes onto a muddy path devoid of grass, wide enough for her to walk alongside Indira.

A scream pierced the air. Caris didn’t know what kind of animal had made that sound but she judged it was a long way away. She walked with back tense wondering what kinds of dangers filled the forest and hoping they wouldn’t meet any. The trail they followed was well worn. It wound its way downward and Caris expected they would eventually find a stream at the bottom.

There was a slight rise on one side of the path and the other side fell away a few paces. There were small plants studded through the thick floor covering of wet leaves and though the trees still overhung their path, they didn’t crowd around them as they had earlier. If it hadn’t been for the feeling of impending attack and the smell of decay, it would have been a pleasant walk.

Caris found herself unwittingly slowing down, intermittent screeches resounded from different directions ahead. It felt as though she was constantly pushing against a wall of fear. She looked at Crispin, he was sitting straight in his saddle white faced, concentrating on keeping Indira moving.

Caris moved to Indira’s head and began coaxing her to increase her pace. Indira didn’t like the bush any more than Caris or Crispin but with Caris’ encouragement she settled down somewhat. It took all of Caris’ attention to keep her horse pacified and moving forward. The distraction helped calm Caris’ fears as well and before she knew it, they had reached a small creek at the bottom of the slope.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked looking up at Crispin.

“Just to go into the bushes,” he replied, slowly climbing down from Indira’s back.

Caris noticed him wincing. She was worried about how long it was taking him to recover; his head obviously hurt a lot of the time, though he seldom mentioned it. The track had widened out at the stream and they moved to opposite sides. Both of them hesitated, fearing what might be lurking out of sight. Crispin turned to her.

“Supposing we just keep our backs to each other.”

“Sounds good to me” Caris replied.

When they were finished, they washed their hands in the creek, but not liking the look of the shallow murky water, opted to drink from their water skins with the hope of finding better water farther on. Caris pulled some dried meat from her saddle, thankful for the foresight that had caused her to prepare it. She handed some up to Crispin and they began crossing the stream.

Caris had hoped to jump across it, but as she moved away from Indira, her horse suddenly went from unsettled to terrified.

Whinnying, Indira started stepping back, resisting Crispin’s attempts to gain control and move her forward. She tossed her head in the air, the whites of her eyes showing. Caris stepped to her head to calm her, at the same time searching for the source of her fear.

On the other side of the little stream, she saw a small black shadow hurtle through the bushes. As she tried to focus on it, another one came from the other direction.

A black hairy thing burst from the brush in front of her. It stopped on the other side of the creek, fixing its four beady eyes on her as it snarled ferociously. Caris stared in astonishment. “It has two heads!”

“They all do” Crispin replied grimly, as more left the bushes, forming a line of knee high snarling, slavering creatures that blocked their way forward.

“I think we’re going to have to find another path,” Caris said as she began to back up the way they had come.

“Agreed”

As she backed away from them, Caris tried to count how many of the strange ferocious creatures there were. It was difficult to do as they moved constantly, snapping at each other almost as much as they threatened her and Crispin. Despite her fear, Caris was amused to see they even snapped at the heads that shared their common body. She thought there were about ten of them but gave up her calculating efforts as they suddenly burst toward her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

They’re fast!
Caris thought in alarm as she let her first arrow fly. She shot three of the creatures before she realised that killing one head didn’t kill both, it just slowed them down.

Continuing to shoot, Caris leapt away from Indira whose wild rearing threatened to trample her. She climbed up onto a waist high log and loosed another five arrows before the creatures were upon them.

“Indira!” she screamed as sharp teeth snapped at her horse’s legs. Crispin had somehow managed to keep his seat on the bucking horse, and as Caris released arrow after arrow, she watched in amazement as he pulled the terrified Indira back into a rear and then, leaning forward, directed her hooves down on top of one of the creature’s heads.

One of the savage animals scrambled up a fallen comrade onto the log. Caris turned to see it almost upon her. She reached back to grab an arrow and discovered her quiver was empty. Crispin still had Syngar’s knife and the rest of her arrows were on the saddle.

She backed away from the creature. Foam gathered around its small sharp teeth as it crawled toward her, snarling and snapping at the air. One of the heads snapped a little too close to the other head and taking a dislike to the action the second head snapped back. Within moments, both heads forgot about Caris and were in an all out battle against each other.

Caris took the opportunity to jump down and grab a couple of arrows from dead animals. She dispatched the last creature on the ground that hadn’t been crushed by Indira’s hooves, then collected another couple of arrows from the back of the saddle. Feeling safer, Caris leant against Indira’s side while she and Crispin watched in curious amusement as the last creature battled itself. Having completely forgotten about Caris and Crispin the strange animal eventually moved off into the scrub, still snapping.

Indira had calmed down once the threat had withdrawn, and Crispin climbed down from her back. Together Crispin and Caris inspected Indira’s legs to make sure she hadn’t been bitten. The horse stood patiently snorting.

Relieved to find no injuries, Caris removed her bridle and allowed Indira to graze while she collected her arrows. Crispin collapsed to the ground and stared across the shallow stream into the bush. Having retrieved her arrows, Caris set about cleaning them.

Crispin was too tired and reluctantly told Caris that his head was pounding too much after his exertions with Indira for him to travel on that day. Caris nodded, a part of her knew they should move on but she was too emotionally exhausted to care.

Once she finished with her arrows and laid them out within easy reach to dry, Caris led the now calmer Indira down to the water and cleaned the blood splatter from her legs. Caris was used to hunting and dealing with the blood of animals but she didn’t know how to feel about Indira’s participation in the battle. Part of her was proud that Indira had handled herself so well and responded to Crispin’s sure hand with such courage, but another part of her felt nauseated that such a beautiful creature could be so violent and deadly.

She stroked Indira’s nose, the truth was that without her contribution they probably would have been overwhelmed. “You’re a brave horse, aren’t you,” she cooed, “My beautiful brave horse.”

Caris took comfort from Indira’s solid warm presence. The mare chomped peacefully on the grass by the water, Caris at her side running her hand down her neck and shoulder in long soothing strokes. It was more to soothe herself that Caris remained with her horse. She hadn’t travelled or fought for very long but she felt so exhausted all she wanted to do was cry. She allowed herself to rest her head on Indira’s shoulder, but aware of Crispin’s presence, didn’t allow herself to succumb to the sobs that threatened to sap the last of her strength.

Eventually, Caris turned to look at her arrows, knowing she should take this opportunity to hunt. She forced herself to walk over to them but instead of picking them up found herself sitting down beside them. She sat staring unseeing at the brown stream trickling past.

After awhile, Caris lifted her eyes and looked at the bush around her, through sheer strength of will, she stood, picked up her bow and arrows, and strode into the scrub, refusing to acknowledge her fear.

It was only after she had shot a large dark brown water rat, that she realised their camp was full of dead animals. With a sigh, she picked up her kill and carried it back the short distance to Crispin. He was lying on the ground where he had first collapsed after seeing to Indira. It was obvious at first glance that his sleep was not peaceful. He was jerking from side to side, murmuring. As Caris approached him she could hear him repeating, “No, no, not that way”. She sat down beside him and putting her hand on his shoulder began to nudge him awake. She could not really muster the energy to soothe him. She sat staring at the muddy water, continuing to shake him without even speaking his name.

Slowly Crispin roused. He lay staring at the leaves over head, Caris’ hand resting heavily on his shoulder. She didn’t want to remove her hand, it was comforting having him so close. Caris looked at the dead animals scattered around them and wondered why she hadn’t thought to move them away
. They will attract all sorts of insects, not to mention scavengers and other animals of prey.
I either need to move them or we need to move,
she decided. She continued staring at the water.

Caris woke late in the morning hot and sweaty, she was groggy and her head felt heavy. She forced her eyes open to discover she was in her bedroll huddled against Crispin. She vaguely remembered Crispin waking her in the dark of night and coaxing her to drag her shivering limbs into the roll, before he climbed in beside her.

She climbed out and wandered down to the water, sat on the edge and rested her feet in the wet flow. The feel of the water stroking past her feet was soothing even though the water was not cold.

Caris looked around; dead animals littered the area. A few had been gnawed at. Caris was astounded at her own foolishness and negligence in leaving them there, and the danger she had invited on themselves. She didn’t know how she had fallen asleep yesterday, or why she felt so sluggish and was having so much trouble thinking, but she knew they had to get out of this place.

Without even noticing the empty growling of her stomach, which hadn’t been fed since the previous morning, Caris roused Crispin, packed the few things they had unpacked, readied Indira, and started leading them across the stream.

The trail narrowed on the other side and the trees and shrubs crowded around them. The bush seemed, if possible, even darker than before. Fear had become a familiar sensation, but was barely noticeable under the blanket of melancholy and exhaustion that weighed Caris down.

Crispin had not said a word since Caris had woken him and forced him to climb onto Indira’s back. He sat staring forward, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. Shadows grew blackly under shrubs that lined the path, the screeches in the distance and the scurrying of animals close by didn’t penetrate Caris’ senses. She trudged forward, aware only of the need to keep going.

Caris walked for some time, dragging Indira behind her. Her limbs felt like lead, and her pace increasingly slowed. Caris was not even aware she had stopped moving when an old man stepped out of a shrub and onto the path in front of her. She heard Crispin gasp behind her. Caris stared at him. He appeared very old, deep lines creased his face. He stooped over a crooked walking stick but did not appear frail or weak. A wiry grey beard partially hid a small kind smile.

“Hello friends,” he greeted them.

Caris stared at him, mouth agape
. Where had he come from? What was he doing in this evil forest? How was he still alive on his own without food or help? He must be insane.

“I am not insane,” he said as if in reply to her thoughts. “In fact I am the only sane one here.”

Before Caris could object, he continued.

“Is a mind overrun by fear, despair and exhaustion-without-cause sane?”

“It’s not without cause.” Caris argued.

“Really? How have you fatigued yourself to the extent you can barely walk or think? Why do you despair, when you have faced much greater trials with hope? And what have you to fear?” he asked, with a wide sweeping gesture of his arm.

As Caris followed his gesture with her eyes, the protest on her lips was silenced; the trees around her suddenly seemed greener and less dark. She looked back to him in complete awe.
Who is this man?

“Stop looking with eyes of fear; open your hearts to hope and beauty. There is a stronger reality here. It is pressing all around you. Open your eyes.”

As he spoke, the world around Caris transformed. Not a leaf or rock moved but instead of a dark, forbidding forest, it became a beautiful paradise. Caris gazed around in wonder. When she finally looked back to where the old man had been standing, he was gone.

“The Revealer,” Crispin spoke.

“Who is he?” Caris asked in awe.

“He who shows what really is.”

Caris looked at him. She had never heard of such a person.

“He is known by many names. Healer, Comforter
,
Sight Giver, Peace Bringer...”

As Crispin spoke, the sound of a girl’s lilting song filled the trees
.

“Singer.” A look of pure joy radiated from Crispin’s face.

“Singer? That old man?” Caris asked, but Crispin had already urged Indira forward and was trotting in the direction from which the girl’s voice emanated. Caris began to jog after them.

They followed the girl through the bush for the rest of the morning. When Caris began to tire Crispin reined Indira in and they proceeded at a walk. The Singer slowed as well, keeping just out of sight ahead of them. From time to time Caris caught sight of a girl with long golden hair, in a rainbow dress flitting through the trees in front of them.

The beautiful melody drew them forward, not drowning out the sound of the bush around them but complimenting it. It intertwined with the birdsong in the trees, kept beat with the rustle of animals in the bushes, and tinkled with the streams they crossed.

Caris wondered that she had ever thought the bush threatening. Instead of focusing on the dark shadows under the shrubs, Caris’ eyes were drawn to the dappled light dancing on the leaves around her. The sweet aroma of flowers replaced the decaying smell of rot. An awareness of abundant life, teeming around them, replaced the feeling of lurking death.

At midday, they reached a fresh stream that splashed happily over rocks. The girl had stopped and wandered upstream to perch on a boulder in the middle of the flow. She sat, smiling, dipping her bare feet into the water that splashed all around her.

Crispin dismounted and after seeing to Indira, they shared a light lunch of dried meat and fruit picked from a lush golden tree growing by the water’s edge. After a short break, which was more than adequate to rest them, with their now buoyant spirits, the girl moved into the trees and they began following her beautiful song again.

The afternoon passed happily for Caris and Crispin. The bush was alive with amazing animals and wondrous trees. Crispin named the ones he knew and continued teaching Caris the little herb lore he had picked up from Kalen, who, he said, “had much knowledge in the area”.

They travelled along a hard packed track that wound through the dense bush. Caris’ strange fatigue had left her when she met The Revealer and Crispin rode Indira with a smile on his face, his head no longer troubling him. Caris found herself looking for the occasional ray of light piercing through the trees and exclaiming in delight whenever it hit one of the broad leaf shrubs that sparkled in its beam. Crispin joined her in her excitement, both of them reverting to a childlike freedom and wonder at the world around them.

They told each other stories from their childhood, about their families, friends, and favourite activities. By the time they stopped at a beautiful fall of water that night, Caris thought she had heard everything there was to know about Crispin. She knew of the dances he had been to, his favourite food, how he had been born and raised in The King’s Army, even his favourite colour. In return, she had told him all about her life and the things that had made it such a joy.

At dusk, they arrived at a clearing surrounding a fresh clear pool of water. It was about twenty paces across and deep enough in the middle for Caris not to be able to stand. Water fell, from fifteen paces above, over a moss-covered cliff sending a fine mist out into the air around it.

Caris and Crispin stopped in their tracks, their conversation forgotten in the splendour of the scene before them. Caris thought she had never seen such beauty before.

The Singer had once again found a seat on a rock downstream; her song had quietened and now somehow acted as a counter melody to the sound of the water. She sat happily gazing at the fall and the clearing, occasionally shooting a smile at Caris and Crispin but content not to engage them.

Taking their cue from The Singer, Caris and Crispin began setting up camp. Caris was only mildly surprised when Crispin started unpacking their supplies and gathering wood for a fire, instead of collapsing in pained exhaustion while Caris did the work. She had never minded looking after him but she was greatly relieved that he was feeling so much better.

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