| |
The trip back across the river was uneventful, despite Charon standing at the rear of the boat, mumbling about people making up their minds. Even Betty, the river spirit failed to put in an appearance. Dan flew alongside the little vessel to save the fare, which only served to annoy the Ferryman even more.
On the other side, the little old man tied up the boat and helped Lyca out, before stomping back through the snow to his shack. There was the sound of things being thrown about inside before a large puff of white smoke came out of the chimney.
“Well, I guess that’s goodbye then,” said Lyca to the human Dan.
“Miserable old codger,” Dan replied, and they started to walk off in the direction the marching army had gone.
“Oi!” shouted the old man from his doorway.
They stopped and waited as he scurried over to them.
“I know you young-uns think that I’m a senile old beggar, but I’s bin around a bit an’ knows a thing or two,” he said. “I know you and your friends are going to take on that nutter in the monastery, and it’s ’bout time someone found the bottle to ’ave a go.
“If ’e does what ’e intends to do evil will reign in every world in existence, an’ I bin to most on ’em. Once the darkness takes an ’old, we’ll never be rid of it. Death, suffering, slavery will be the norm and that dopy beggar, Balfour thinks ’e’ll be in charge, but ’e won’t. ’E’ll be in chains with the rest.” The old man opened his grubby hand to reveal a silver coin.
“If ye find ye need the services of the old Ferryman to help ye in yer quest, give this obol a rub an’ call me. I might look a bit feeble, but Balfour sent a lot of men after me what ’e never saw again.”
Lyca took the silver coin from the old man and looking into his watery grey eyes, she thanked him.
“Go on,” he said. “Ye won’t do no good hangin’ round ’ere yarnin’, sling yer ’ook.” He turned and shuffled back to his shack.
They waited till he went in, but he did not look back. He never looked back; he didn’t hold with it. He knew a feller once who looked back on his way out of the underworld, and it didn’t do him much good.
“What did you make of that?” Lyca asked.
“I don’t suppose you can live as long as he has without picking up a thing or two along the way,” Dan replied.
“What about this plan of Balfour’s?” she said. “Do you think it’s about him getting hold of Tom’s key and unlocking the secrets in the Tome?”
“It’s probably got something to do with it,” Dan said. “But a book can’t take over and enslave everyone, including Balfour himself. No, there’s more to it than that. I reckon it has something to do with where Cox and his men are off to.”
“Well, we’d better catch up then, before we lose them. Come on!” Lyca broke into a brisk jog, while Dan, unable to sustain the pace, reverted to his fairy form, unfolded his transparent wings and flew off after her.
There was no hiding the direction the horde from the monastery had taken. In their wake lay a river of brown, slushy mud where the snow had been trampled by so many feet. Pathways had been widened to make way for the gig drawn by the mighty gryphon. Bushes were uprooted and cast aside and overhanging branches torn away, either by the powerful beak of the beast or by the gord, the strong but not too bright yellow-skinned creatures. Balfour had convinced them that he was their god, which to their small and underused minds, was a step up from the Giant Thorny Phalenopsis, a plant that grew to seven feet high and had yellow flowers with a red stigma. The simple-minded creatures worshipped the plant because they thought that they had been created in its image. However, it did provide very little in the way of spiritual guidance, hence their willingness to adopt Balfour as their god as he could do many miraculous things, such as speak and move.
Due to the long head start Cox had, it took Lyca and Dan almost two hours of constant running before they were close enough to see the last of them tramping up a narrow path between two high ridges at the rocky north-eastern side of the mountain. They decided to keep as far back as they could so as not to risk being seen. However, they did get close enough to see that not only did the marching troops consist of the gord, but also there were many guardians, or clerics, as they used to be.
“That’s odd,” Dan said.
“What is?” Lyca enquired, her attention still held by the march.
“If they were going off to fight, why take the Guardians? They only go around gathering information and teleporting people back to the dungeons, they’re no use in a battle.”
“Maybe they’re not going into battle,” Lyca said. “That’s why we’re following them, to see where they go and what they are up to. Come on; the last ones have gone through the pass, let’s go.”
On the other side of the pass, Cox and his chums found themselves looking down on a snow-covered farmland scene. At the base of the mountain was a smallholding consisting of a farmhouse and several outbuildings. Fences and hedges contained a handful of cows and sheep and a large barn stacked with hay stood behind a frozen pond. Cox smiled when he spied the farm and urged the gryphon towards it.
“Greetings, sir,” said the farmer, as the carriage pulled into the farmyard. “That’s a fine beast you have there, not from these parts, I’m sure.”
“Do you own this property?” Cox asked coldly.
“Yes, sir,” the farmer replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. It’s only small but produces enough to keep my family and that of our farmhands well-fed with enough over to trade as we need.”
“Are you aware,” said Cox, “that all this land from the southern sea to the land of Narg in the north, and from the islands of Nicea to the city of Trillodium in the east has been designated the property of his Excellency Count Balfour of Iragoth?”
“That’s him what took over the monastery on the other side of the mountain en’t it?”
“That is he,” Cox replied.
“We don’t have much to do with the other side,” the farmer said. By now, he had drawn an audience of farmhands and a handful of women who had emerged from the cottage to see what was going on.
“Let me see your record of taxes,” Cox demanded.
“We have no such record, sir, cos we en’t paid none.”
“Why not?”
“We never had to in the past, and no one told us any different. What we got to pay for anyhow, I owns this land, and we don’t get no services this side of the mountain,” said the farmer, beginning to see that what started as a pleasant winter’s morning was rapidly disappearing down the privy.
“As I just told you, idiot, this land belongs to his Excellency. Your taxes are due for the privilege of living here and for his guarantee of protection,” Cox said.
“Protection from what? This is a peaceful community, we ain’t never needed no protection,” the farmer argued.
“Protection from us, of course,” Cox replied. “Captain. Take some of your men and collect wood for a fire. Use these sheds if you must. Then slaughter what animals you find and prepare to feed the men. Search these premises for any ale or wine too.” He turned to the farmer. “Consider that your tax arrears.”
“No!” shrieked the farmer’s wife running up to plead at the side of the gig. “Take our animals, and we are finished, we need our livestock.”
“You can always appeal to his Excellency if you can get there and back before my men can catch your animals,” laughed Cox and pushed the woman back with his foot.
The farmer jumped to his wife’s aid, only to be struck on the back of the head with the hilt of the captain’s sword. He fell unconscious on the floor. A farmhand was about to retaliate for the attack on his father but was restrained by his young wife and brother.
“So far there has been no serious injury,” Cox called. “If you oppose my men, you will not live to see another sunrise. Now stand aside.”
The gord began their task of ransacking the property. They used fence and shed to build a massive fire in the centre of the farmyard and rigged spits to cook the freshly killed animals to feed the horde. The farmers could do nothing but watch generations of work destroyed in the space of a few minutes.
Dan and Lyca made it to the top of the pass and began to make their descent on the other side when Lyca grabbed Dan’s arm to stop him.
“I think they’ve stopped,” she said. “I can’t hear them marching, but I can hear shouting.”
“Can’t hear anything,” Dan replied.
“You wouldn’t,” Lyca said. “Let’s get a bit closer, be careful.”
Slowly they worked their way down the narrow path, trying not to dislodge any stones that would give away their presence to the enemy below.
When they reached the mouth of the pass, they were able to see the farm and the devastation being caused by the marauders. By now, the remains of the wooden outbuildings were piled up ready to be thrown on the fire raging in the yard. Various items were being thrown from the cottage’s windows to rowdy shouts of approval from the gord. The smell of roasting meat floated up on the late morning breeze, making Dan feel hungry, and Lyca feel sick.
“I wonder if the others have made it to the tunnels yet?” she asked.
Dan looked at the position of the sun in the sky to get an idea of the time. “I don’t know how far around the mountain it was, not too far I shouldn’t think. They ought to be getting close by now.”
“We aren’t going to find out what happens to them till we get back, are we?” she said.
“Don’t see how we will get to hear anything out here,” replied the fairy. He looked up and down the pass. There was no one about. “You should be safe enough here,” he said. “You keep out of sight, and I’ll go and get a closer look. Don’t go anywhere till I get back.”
“Hey, hang on!” Lyca replied. “We are not splitting up.”
“It’s alright; I won’t be long.”
“No, we stick together,” Lyca insisted.
“What’s the problem?” Dan said sharply. “We aren’t going to get any information unless we get close enough to hear them talking.”
“We’ll find out what they’re up to just by following them,” Lyca said.
“But we’ll find out a lot more if we eavesdrop,”
“I want to keep you where I can see you,” said the girl.
“What does that mean?” Dan demanded.
“Shh, keep your voice down,” Lyca hissed.
“What did you mean, keep me where you can see me?”
“You’re a jinx,” Lyca replied. “Every time you go off on your own something bad happens.”
“What!”
“Yesterday, you got lost in the forest, and all those dead animals came back to life,” she said.
“That was not my fault,” Dan retorted. “Garren was teaching the boy magic, and it went wrong.”
“But afterwards the Guardians were waiting in the woods all full of knowledge about our plans.”
“Are you accusing me of telling them?”
“You aren’t the most subtle of people; they probably heard you muttering to yourself,” she argued.
“I resent that,” Dan spat, going redder and redder.
“Then there was last night,” Lyca added. “You were conveniently absent when I turned.”
“I told you, I was getting firewood and got...”
“Got lost...again.”
“Ah,” Dan said, triumphantly about to make his point. “I was right there with you when the troll attacked, and when that water spirit almost sank the boat.”
“Yeah, flying safely out of harm’s way both times,” retorted the girl.
“You surely don’t think I’m on their side?” Dan said, amazed. “How long have we known each other?”
“Maybe you’re just bad luck,” Lyca said, quietly.
“Well,” Dan stated decisively. “In that case, you will probably be better off on your own.”
Lyca started to tell him not to be stupid, but it was too late. The fairy transformed and zoomed off towards the farm before she could stop him, leaving the angry girl standing in the rocky pass alone.
She watched him zoom out of sight, then, wondering if she would see him again when he calmed down, she crept through the mouth of the passage and crouched behind a boulder to wait and watch.
Lyca never really thought Dan had betrayed them, but it had to be said that there were a lot of coincidences. She just wanted him to stay, as much for him as for her. If he did get lost again, he would most likely end up bumping into the gord and getting captured. They liked fairies - well they liked pulling the wings of fairies anyway. Now she felt terrible and alone.
Dan sped off down the hill towards the farm. He was fuming, but he had the presence of mind to keep to the hedgerows and copses where he could. The furious fairy had a good mind to go back and teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget for accusing him like that, and after she nearly killed them all last night, too. He continued to the farm and cast around for the leader of the troop. He spotted him over by the little house. Now he had to get over there without being noticed. Dan had to circle the farm to get to the bushes on the far side of the cottage, keeping to the hedgerows. It took him a long time because there were so many soldiers running about he had to sneak from branch to branch, but eventually, he made it to a small copse of trees, around a frozen duck pond. He positioned himself where he could see Cox. The enemy commander was listening to one of the gord who seemed to be making a report.
If fortune had been kinder to Lyca, it would have instructed the wind not to blow from the east. But as it was, luck was not on Lyca’s side. The light breeze blew the combined odours of burned meat, the sickly stench of the gord and the musty smell of the clerics towards the girl, rendering her heightened sense of smell useless. Therefore, the first Lyca knew about the scouting party of soldiers coming down the pass behind her was when she heard the twang of the soldier’s bow as it sent an arrow hurtling towards her. The ill-fated girl spun around at the sound, helpfully presenting her chest to the oncoming shaft of iron-tipped wood. As the realisation hit her, so did the arrow; right in the centre of her chest. She stared down at the hazel arrow sticking out of her chest in complete amazement before looking up to see the triumphant archer, further up the pass. Then the light went out of the world, and she felt the impact as she sank, involuntarily to her knees; the buzzing noise in her ears blocked out all other sounds. Finally, she fell forward into the snow and moved no more.
“Did you see that?” yelled the archer jumping up with excitement. “That has got to be a hundred and fifty yards and bang. Dropped her like a sack of spuds. Beautiful.”
“You jammy bug... Eh-hem... Thank you, Troezan,” said his superior. “That will do. Let’s check it out.”
“Captain, I am sure there was someone with her when we sighted her a while back,” said the third soldier.
“Keep your eyes open, lad,” the captain replied.
The three yellow-skinned soldiers approached the fallen girl, looking for signs of anyone else. Finding none, they turned their attention to Lyca carefully edging towards her with short swords unsheathed and at the ready in case she suddenly jumped up and attacked them. The captain jabbed her roughly in the shoulder and jumped back warily. She did not move. Satisfied she was dead, he kicked her over so her sightless eyes stared straight up at him.
“Dead, alright,” he confirmed. “And a human by the look of it.”
“Why would a human follow us?” asked Arissus. “They make lousy spies and even worse thieves.”
“Guess no one told her that,” sniggered Troezan, still pleased with himself.
Captain Ilyas picked up the backpack and emptied the contents on to the snow.
“Nothing but clothes, food, a few tools and some camping gear,” he said. “Let’s get back and inform the commander.”
Cox was sitting in the doorway of the little farmhouse when the scouting party approached. It was warmer out there with the raging fire than inside now the windows were gone. He was gnawing at the charred leg of an unfortunate bird, probably a goose or turkey.
“Captain Ilyas,” he said. “I assume that as you are unaccompanied, you are here to tell me that you found those following us and dispatched them accordingly.”
“Yes, sir, that is correct,” replied the captain.
“Did it not occur to you that it may have been useful to capture and question the spy?”
“Er, didn’t have the chance, sir,” Ilyas squirmed, “My legionnaire dropped her like a... er...got off a lucky shot and killed the creature stone dead, sir.”
“What was it?”
“Human female, sir.”
“Human, eh? Odd, they don’t normally get involved in matters that don’t concern them. Pathetic creatures.”
“Er, sorry sir,” said the captain tentatively, “aren’t you human?”
“Once, captain. Once,” Cox answered. He did not expand on his answer, his attention being momentarily caught by a small gleam of light in the trees. It was visible for a second, then it disappeared behind a branch, appearing again on the other side and then it was gone. Cox tried not to look directly at it but nevertheless was mindful of its presence.
“Oh sir, there was one other thing,” Ilyas said. “Before we were sent out, the lookout said he thought he saw two people following us, and when we climbed the ridge to get behind her, one of my boys was sure he saw the human with a male companion. We looked around and found no other footprints or any other sign that she was with anyone.”
“That’s all very well,” Cox said, looking up at the sky. “Don’t give him a second thought. But that is very strange. Look at the way the clouds are scurrying across the sky.”
The captain squinted up at the bright sky, but not for very long before the light was blotted out. “It looks like the Master is summoning up his magic again,” he said.
“Hmm,” replied Cox thoughtfully. “I hope you are right.”
Dan’s light flickered through the heavy snow and shimmered into human form in the pass where he and Lyca had had their argument. He noticed several sets of footprints leading further down the high sided ravine. He followed the tracks until he arrived at a partly snow-covered body, lying behind a large boulder.
The fairy brushed the thick snow off the victim’s face. He examined the arrow, imbedded in her chest and smiled. “Perhaps you were right,” he said. “Maybe I do bring bad luck.”
Dan stooped to gather her possessions, scattered around by her assailant. Shaking off the snow, he replaced them in her pack and placed it next to her. Then, reaching into a leather pouch which hung at his side, he pulled out a small stone and whispered something to it before throwing it high into the air, shouting, “Ella Ithiel.” The stone heeded his command and shot off back down the pass towards the river.
He looked at the sky and the heavy snow which seemed to be set in for the time being. Taking a folding shovel from the camping equipment in Lyca’s pack, he began to shovel snow over her lifeless body.