Tranquil Fury (33 page)

As they rode along, Gingaar pulled out a cloth handkerchief and handed it to Lauren, “Earth Mother does want thou to hath these.”

Lauren took the fabric and opened it up. Inside were ten stickpins, each tipped with a small gem and gold leaf, “I don’t understand, what are they?”

 “Each Earth Daughter when proclaimed does receive a pin, a sign of the order. When to Mother they does be called, the pin does be passed down to one who does be worthy. Earth Mother does select thou.”

 “Shouldn’t these belong to you?”

 “Blossom mine gift does naught, but thou does be worthy.”

 “What do they mean?”

 “The order does naught be formal, as ranks does naught be given. Should disagreement happen, Earth Mother or Earth Daughter with pins greatest does be considered superior to others. When thou does find others, should they naught agree with thou, show thine pins, and argument does end. Earth Mother, her line, longest of all Earth Mothers it does be. Naught any other shalt hath pins more.” As Gingaar spoke her last sentence, her voice went quiet, “Unbroken for generations of ten, weak link does be Gingaar.”

 “I don’t know what to say. Why did the Earth Mother not give them to me herself?”

 “She does be afraid offer so great, that into shadows it does push Earth Daughter.”

 “How did you know I changed my mind?”

 “First, I does hear thou on thine ride back from tree, plans thou does talk about.” Gingaar wiggled her ears back and forth, “Second, Alron does smile. Signs both, I does know that Lauren does now be Earth Daughter.” Gingaar and Lauren talked a while about the Earth Mother, but the gentle swaying of the wagon coupled with her early rise to the tree, Lauren never felt the slumber sneak up on her, take over, her body just accepted the desired rest. Slowly the wagon guided by Mirtza followed the elves, as the trails became wider, which joined with the main forest road, where he turned the magic steeds back towards the Ironhouse Mine. The long day ended at camp, and as Mirtza was retrieving the chests from the wagon, the peace was broken when Careel Dawnfalcon raced back through the woods. Alron took to his stag, whistled orders to the Earth Guard, and met Careel about twenty yards in front of the wagon. Lauren could see the animated report that Alron was receiving, and it did not look like good news.

Lauren called Gingaar over to her, “You can hear them, what are they talking about?”

 “I does naught know if I should.”

 “If I am going to be Earth Daughter, then I need to know what is happening. What are they talking about?”

Gingaar’s face had fear written all over it, “Black-clad. An army of black-clad does camp in field beyond forest.”

 “Crap. Welcome to the first day of your new job. In case of emergency, please break glass and pull alarm,”

 “I does naught understand Earth Daughter?”

 “Just talking to myself. Crap, crap, crap. What the heck do we do now?”

Gingaar pointed up the road, “Alron does come, thine answers he shalt hath.”

Alron called out to Mirtza, “We does naught camp here tonight. Cold rations only, naught fire either. Earth Daughter, a large force does camp beyond forest. It does appear to be black-clad.”

 “How many?”

Alron replied, “Hundreds, maybe more?”

 “Why would so many black-clad be up here, where there is nobody left except a few dwarves, elves, my friends, and me.” Lauren paused for a second, “Earth Daughter may I please present to you Danger and his friend Peril. They have been very anxious to meet you. Would our new friends be looking for me Alron?”

 “It does be possible Earth Daughter.”

 “Well Alron, what do we do?”

“We shalt wait until nightfall, darkness wilt hide our flight.”

Lauren looked up to the cloudless sky, the full moon clearly visible.

Alron cursed under his breath, “We shalt consider options, and advise Earth Daughter.”

Lauren shook her head, “If I can be of any help, please let me know.”

Mirtza called to Alron, “My horses can outrun any horses they have. You would have to leave your stags here, but I can have us back to Ironhouse in less than two days.”

 “I hath thought of that, but should black-clad also hath a Trickster—one with thine abilities, advantage does be lost. In our haste to flee from one, perchance we does race into another. If other options does naught exist, thine plan we does reconsider. For now, all does stay close to wagon, ready to move should need be required.”

Mirtza asked if anybody wanted some rations, but their appetites had disappeared, just like their chances of a safe return to Ironhouse, and for hours, they milled around the wagon, wrapping themselves in moonlit forest darkness.

Logan used the excuse of relieving himself, to slip into the forest. He could feel the tattoos burning under his shirt as he paralleled the road, ever conscious that one wrong move, one sound, would attract the attention of the Earth Guard. The forest ended about one hundred yards from where Mirtza waited with the wagon, the trees becoming less the closer Logan got to the field. He was about ten yards in, still hidden, when he could see most of the enemy camp. Dozens of huge bonfires illuminated the night, their shadows dancing on hundreds of tents, with guards patrolling the perimeter. They were about two hundred yards off the road, camped beside a small forest that provided easy access to the firewood that lit their camp. The remaining countryside was clearly visible as the night sun—the full moon—glowed brightly above them.

Logan inhaled the warm summer air, knelt down, and felt the grass wet with humidity and dew. He rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the blue feather tattoo, began to caress it, separating and then re-joining the segments. He stood there for twenty minutes, embracing the night, feeling the temperature drop, before he finally sensed an elf stalking him from behind. Just as Alron was about to whisper to him, Logan turned, “We need to get back to the wagon. I don’t think we can hide here for another day.”

 “Friend Logan, how would thou suggest we does flee this night?”

“The weather is going to change, and we need to be ready when it does.” Then Logan rolled down his shirt sleeve, and silently crept through the forest back to the wagon.

Alron wanted to chastise Logan for wandering off, putting them all in danger, but had not expected to receive orders from him. He quickly followed him back, not completely understanding his message, and when he had returned to the wagon, the three Earth Guards were in front of it, and everybody else was in the back of it.

Mirtza had a confused look on his face. “Logan said I should go to the forest edge and wait. Should I Alron?”

Alron nodded his head, took to his stag as the wagon began to pull onto the road, and maneuvered his stag so that he could ride beside Logan, “What does thou mean, weather change?”

 “Alron, you look like you are in a fog. Does something obscure your thoughts?”

Alron wanted to reach out and smack Logan, as he was not used to being played with. Babartin rode down the road, pulling up beside him, and Mirtza stopped the wagon so that they could all hear the report.

“Alron, our fortunes does change. A cold wind from north does blow this way. Fog does obscure road, from both moonlight and camp, and unseen our escape shalt be.”

Alron glared at Logan, “What hath thou done?”

“Do you want to talk, or do you want to leave?”

Lauren, glaring at both of them, tapped her staff on the wagon’s side, “You two can stop right now. If we have a chance to leave, we are leaving. Mirtza, move this wagon to the edge of the forest, now.” Mirtza looked over to Alron, but Lauren stomped her foot, “Mirtza if I am going to be the Earth Daughter and lead, it would help if you made this wagon move.”

Alron turned his stag, and took the lead in front of the wagon, and as they began advancing out of the retreating forest, Careel greeted Alron with a smile at the forest edge. But Alron did not respond, the fog was growing thicker, his patience thinner. He did not mind whatever help Logan managed to arrange, but would have rather known about it before hand. Alron advanced into the fog, when Logan whispered for him to wait.

Alron turned his stag back towards the wagon. “Wait friend Logan? What does we wait for?”

 “We can’t go out in that, you can’t see anything.”

Alron rubbed the side of his head, “I does think that does be thine intent?”

 Logan held up his hands, “Just wait a few minutes.”

Alron wanted to question Logan more, but there was a sense of futility that he did not want to aggravate. He softly whistled to the Earth Guards to be on their highest alert, but he did not have to, as they already were. But it gave Alron the sense that he was still in charge.

It took about five minutes, but the fog slowly began to change as it came from the north, began to rise ten feet above the road, and then crossed over, where once again it cascaded down to the warm ground, and continued its southward journey. Alron cast a look at Logan, who simply nodded. Alron whistled and the small group advanced into the strange weather pattern, fog above and to the south, clear in front and to the north.

Mirtza leaned forward, suggested to Alron they could move faster, but before Alron could reply, Logan in a whisper advised, “Our movements may be concealed, but any noise we make does not share the same fate. Quiet like the night we should also be.”

It felt like a hundred years, but was actually two hours before the fog began to burn off. Lauren and Gingaar spent the entire time staring into the swirling wall of the moon lit mist, seeing all manner of threatening images, expecting any one of them to jump into the back of the wagon. The full moon began the night as an adversary, like some unwavering guard patrolling the lands. Now free of the threat and fog, its role changed to guide, illuminating the path, securing their escape. Alron whistled, the Earth Guard started a fast trot, and Mirtza did not need any guidance here. He smacked the reigns and the magic steeds were soon challenging the powerful stags for the lead. The look Mirtza received from Alron would suggest that they were not in a race, and it would be best if they all arrived at the same time at the Ironhouse Mine, and Mirtza pulled back on the never tiring horses to give the lead back to the Earth Guard. It was late into the night or early in the morning, as none were sure when they pulled off the road into a small forest, the stags panting heavily.

Alron called to Mirtza, “Thine magic guard bats, please does send out. We does rest here until the first sun does welcome day new. Panry and I shalt watch for two hours, Dawnfalcons, after that. Cethail, Erust, the final watch does by thine. Naught fires.” Then Alron turned to Logan, “Naught wandering off. Sleep if thou canst, day new we shalt ride hard and long.”

Then Alron and Panry wandered back towards the road before any could question his orders. When they were at the edge, hidden in the darkness by the forest moon shadows, Panry smiled, “Thou does handle thine first command well. I shalt go guard forest west, but I does feel better now that thou does be in charge,” and Panry quickly hiked to his guard station.

Alron looked up to the sky, “So Mother, mine challenges does begin. Naught even one days rest I does get. And Sister, she does mock me as well. Yes, I does know, protect and serve.” And in the darkness, Alron wondered what else lay ahead for him and his new Earth Daughter.

Chapter 24

Lauren rubbed her sleep-encrusted eyes, smelled the bean juice, and wanted a hot shower. Gingaar and Logan were both sitting with Mirtza, Logan holding a mug of the bean juice, as if it was a cheat sheet for a math test, staring deeply into it, breathing in the intoxicating aroma. As Lauren walked over to join them, she ran her fingers through her long hair, but tangles fought her desire to reject the look, that her brother embraced. As Lauren sat down, Mirtza handed her a cup of the hot bean juice, Gingaar handed her a brush. The simple decision caught her off guard, and as she held both, she was unsure of what to do first. She looked at Logan, sticks and weeds trapped in his deep curls, she was afraid a bird might have built a nest in his hair. If it was good enough for Logan, she could embrace the look of disaster that he wore so well. Lauren sat the brush down on her lap, welcomed the warmth of the hot liquid, let it push back the cold morning air that tried to welcome her. After taking a long drink, she threw a small pebble at Logan to bring him out of his bean juice coma, “What happened last night?”

 “The winds of fate changed in our favor?” Logan shrugged his shoulders, “I really don’t know. I just wanted to get as far away from that group as possible, and didn’t want to get trapped in that forest. There was a 60-60 chance they could go in either direction, and if they headed into the forest, then we would be screwed. And I really didn’t want to follow them back to the mine either, if they headed in this direction. Then I felt the blue feather tattoo, some sort of burning sensation. I wasn’t really sure of what was going to happen.”

Lauren shook her head, hoped that John would be able to continue to tutor Logan in math. Her brother might be able to control the weather, but numbers would always challenge him. She looked down at the grill that the percolating pot was sitting on, but there was no fire, “Mirtza, how did you make this?”

 “Alron would not let me make a fire, afraid the smoke might give away our position. One of the tokens in the box is this grill, the heat is already in it.”

 “How does it work?”

 “I hate to sound like your brother, but I have no idea. I put a pot on, it is hot. I take the pot off, it is cold.” Mirtza removed the steaming pot from the grill, and placed his hand on it. Lauren winced at the unexpected action, but Mirtza did not scream in pain, just put the pot back on the grill, “Really, I have no idea.”

Gingaar turned to Lauren, “Earth Daughter what does happen this day?”

Lauren took a drink of the hot bean juice, “I have no idea. Really, no idea at all.” Logan choked on his bean juice when he heard her statement, but Lauren continued, “If these two don’t have any idea of what they do, why should I be any different? Let’s wait for Alron, maybe see what he wants to do.” Gingaar offered to find him, but Lauren said to wait. Instead, she picked up the brush, and began to battle the bird nests in her hair, before something decided to call it home. Gingaar, seeing her struggles, went over to Lauren and helped her.