Sci Fi & Fantasy / Shadow of Chea'Laern: Chapter 11 - Pawns (Analysis)
Chapter 11
Pawns
Neeka waited for dawn to attempt solving the mystery shrouding her memory. This was obviously not just an average bully. There was magic involved; something she knew next to nothing about. But when she thought about it, she must go alone. If harm befell one of her friends simply because she wanted them to help her, she would hide away from the world for all eternity for fear of being catalyst to another tragedy. No, she would face this demon by herself. She’d explored a decent amount of the caves through the entrance closest to the village’s southern edge, and at least knew how to get to the northern entrance from there. So she reached the cave in just under an hour.
She walked without a lit torch at first, her eyes adjusting to the darkness rather quickly; so familiar she was with this entrance. After minutes of walking she touched one hand to the wall with the other stretched forward protectively. The hand on the wall soon crossed open space, and she turned right. She passed the amethyst alcove before she was obligated to light her torch, and wound through the tunnels a while longer, generally heading north-northwest.
She blew a light sigh of relief when she heard the sounds of scuffling feet echoing in from an intersecting tunnel. The appearance of goblins or kobolds indicated she was on the right path, though she’d expected to confront at least some form of life by now.
She became part of the wall, positioned so she could peek around the corner into the tunnel that would lead to the owner of the echoes, and extinguished her torch. Ironically, the echoes then stopped. She waited a moment to be sure the creatures turned down another tunnel rather than stopping for a break, then continued down her tunnel.
A mysterious voice startled her. “You are not supposed to be here!”
The intensity in tone and the instant fear the voice struck in her made her realize it came not from her head like she first thought, but from the darkness around her. She froze, perfectly aware of who owned that voice, though she could not see the backlit eyes.
“Who are you?” she managed to choke out.
“You’ll travel into your next life while I’ll be building this one forever, so who I am is irrelevant. You should be more concerned with what I am.” He chuckled eerily.
Neeka shuddered. Again she could barely discern if the voice was in her head or came from thin air, so she relit her torch. The tunnel was empty.
“What are you doing here, then?” she asked, a little more confident now that she could see no one was in the tunnel with her.
“That’s a better question,” sounded the voice aimlessly. “You will find out soon enough.”
The scuffling footsteps returned down the tunnel ahead.
Neeka prepared herself for contact, for they approached from her intended direction. She kept the torch lit, for these creatures could see in darkness ten times better than she could, and likely already smelled her anyway for how close they sounded. Soon enough she could feel the vibrations in the floor beneath her feet.
Then came the smell. She nearly vomited, so strong it was. Whatever approached was either dead or carried rotting corpses, and a lot of them! Logic told her to believe the latter, but something sent a shiver down her spine that put her on edge. Perhaps a feeling in the air, or the combination of the voice’s words and the strange smell of death heralding the approach of something animated. Whatever it was, Neeka’s instincts screamed at her to get out of there!
But she was not one to give in to fear, especiall when something personal was on the line. She’d wandered for hours it seemed, though she held confidence that she was not lost. And the tunnels continued to twist and turn, dive and rise. The only thing that remained constant was the calm, cold atmosphere, and the ominous silence to be expected when traveling deep underground. The sensation she was being watched followed her every step, even through areas too enclosed or constricting for anyone else to possibly see her without her seeing them as well. But still she tred on through the silence, confident in her ability to defend herself and comforted by the amount of food and water she carried, and the extra torch in her pack.
She finally reached the landmark she sought, reassuring her position on her mental map of the mountain; a stalagmite protruding from the center of an intersection marked the forking tunnels that would lead either to the northern cave entrance or down into the heart of the mountain. She was torn. She’d planned on going deeper if she hadn’t found him by the time she reached the landmark, but the darkness filling the long-narrow exit tunnel to the left indicated the sun had set. With her body’s needs being the only way to keep track of time, which was not an accurate source, she’d miscalculated how long it would take her to reach the landmark. Not wanting to waste any more time, she decided to eat while carefully considering her course of action.
Her instincts screamed warnings at her from step one, so she was too accustomed to them for the alarm to hold any semblance of importance.
A creature peered at her from the narrow tip of the stalagmite she rest against.
*
The sun beat down relentlessly, streaming straight in without clouds to deplete its solar flare, and made their journey miserably uncomfortable. They all wished they could remove their armor, though Rahmina’s chain mail was not so bad, but they also knew that to be unprotected on the wold would deplete their chance at survival considerably.
They were nearly two days out of Tuntiload and, during their last break, sent four scouts an hour ahead to the south. At the top of each of the last three hills Rahmina expected to see their scouts in the near distance. Finally, on the fourth hill, she spotted the four dark forms halfway down the next rise.
“About time,” she muttered to herself. The comment was borne of relief rather than impatience, but her relief was premature. About the same time she noticed her scouts were riding desperately hard, she spotted more figures cresting the hill—obviously chasing the soldiers. “Full ahead!” she called out behind her as she spurred her horse to a full gallop.
Rahmina’s soldiers broke rank to let the scouts through to safety, all of who had earned minor injuries. Then there was a wall of horses, swords, shields and armored soldiers to stop the straggling pursuers.
But they never crested the hill.
“Where are they?” Rahmina asked aloud.
One of the scouts stepped forward. “They were on our heels!” he protested.
The other two joined the conversation. “Whatever they were,” shuddered one.
“Dead,” added the other. “They were dead.” He seemed in a confused daze.
Rahmina had to repeat the phrase in her mind a couple times before she realized he actually meant what he said. Her eyes snapped to the scouts. “I saw them moving, fellas. They’re not dead.”
“They were moving,” agreed one scout, nodding absently with his vision glued to the hill’s crest.
“They were chasing us,” elaborated his companion.
“But they were dead,” finished the third. The other two hesitated, but could only nod in agreement because there was no other explanation.
Rahmina’s face crinkled with confusion. But her scouts could not solve the mystery with words, seeking an explanation that was beyond all of them. Rahmina motioned for them to follow her to the top of the hill. But they didn’t stay long at the peak.
Climbing the hill towards them, albeit slowly, were scores of scraggly, stumbling, bloody, less-than-human yet human-looking bipedal creatures.
“Fall back!” commanded Rahmina. Her only other thoughts were of Brinney’s warning about the evil ones coming to their valley, and she shuddered. She didn’t expect to return to the valley so soon, but now she had no choice.
When they got far enough ahead of their pursuers to allow their horses a much-needed rest, Rahmina revealed her intentions.
“I know where they’re headed,” she began. “And we need a plan to slow, scatter or at least head them off, and evacuate Nairsnia valley.”
“Looks like we’ll see some fighting after all,” said one soldier grimly.
“But what are they?” asked another. “How can we fight them if we don’t know what they are?”
None could answer that question.
The statement was more profound to Rahmina than the soldier intended to express. Suddenly she felt guilty for her newfound loyalties to the valley’s inhabitants. Because of her promise to Creole’s daughter, several of her men might die. But the guilt didn’t last long, for she realized if they neglected to return to the valley, Creole wouldn’t likely have a daughter, if either of them survived at all. And looking at the somber, determined though frightened faces of all her loyal men, she knew they would not blame her for any of their deaths; they probably would’ve begged her to go back and protect the valley if she hadn’t already made the decision. And she loved them all for that.
But she still felt the need to give them an option.
“Anyone who wishes not to fight may return to Chea’Laern by a roundabout route now.”
Not a single soldier accepted her proposal.
“You should know better,” winked Randal next to her.
“I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t offer,” she explained.
Randal nodded, a look of appreciation and respect for her in his eyes. “Part o’ the reason we’re stayin’ at your side.”
Hours passed. A line of mounted soldiers was planted at the top of the hill ahead. The determined creatures, stumbling over the unstable terrain and drooling on themselves, overpowered their master’s relaxed telepathic command momentarily for the thirst of human blood. They charged up the hill, following their primal needs. And even when the cavalry line disappeared behind the hill, they did not relent. They had not the mind capacity to consider the possibility for a trap. They only considered the opportunity for blood.
So they were caught completely unaware when, around both sides of the hill, dozens of flaming arrows dug deep into their flanks by Rahmina’s bowmen. The creatures wailed in agony, stumbling all over each other in search of both cover and relief from the flames already biting at their decayed flesh. Just as another volley of arrows soared out, the creatures—as one—stopped thrashing, stood up straight and reorganized their ranks as though nothing happened. Some crumpled where they stood, surrendering to the consuming fire, though most of them were able to smother the flames—some even ripped the arrows from their torsos or limbs without even a flinch of pain.
Their master, though still many miles away, came to the rescue.
Rahmina lay on her belly peering down at the spectacle from the hilltop, and couldn’t believe her eyes. “Fall back!” she cried. And not a single soldier hesitated to heed her command, for they watched the anomaly, too.
She asked her lightest soldiers to double up, freeing some horses from riders, so when their horses began to tire at least a few of them would be able to continue; to get ahead of the main group so the villagers could receive a more timely warning.
Their early retreat caused them to miss an important piece of information. Those creatures who crumpled from the fire began to rise again, and followed their more mobile cohorts toward the northeast.
*
The captain wore a look of superiority as he stood in the courtyard when Secile and Daxe emereged from the great castle’s double doors without the king or any of the missing soldiers.
“Son of an orc,” muttered Daxe.
“Don’t worry, we’ll wipe that look off his face.”
Daxe grinned, bubbling with anticipation.
Secile retained a diplomatic, professional look, one projecting preparation for delivery of tragic news.
“You found the king and he kicked you out,” assumed the captain when they reached the center of the courtyard, obviously misreading her expression.
Daxe snorted and bit his tongue to keep from lashing the captain with it.
“We didn’t find him,” Secile said calmly. “But we found some of your missing guards.”
“Well, where are they?” barked the captain with wounded pride.
“We found them in the dungeons, dead,” Daxe said grimly.
Secile nudged him with her elbow.
The sudden look clouding the captain’s eyes bordered on suspicion.
“After I explain to you what happened in there, you must tell us everything you know about the dungeons and any other exits,” offered Secile.
“No. You tell me what happened because if you don’t, you’ll be searching the dungeons from the inside on charge of treason. If you’re innocent we’ll see what I can do.”
“Ya think we did it?” roared Daxe, stepping forward suddenly and puffing up like prey trying to intimidate a predator. Secile stopped him and held him back, for many guards bristled in anticipation of battle, some even drawing their weapons.
“If you have nothing to hide, you will do as I say,” said the captain stubbornly without flinching in the least.
“Or we can keep you in the dark and look for ourselves,” replied the mage, throwing all patience to the winds. “But I’ll not be held responsible for the damage that may cause.”
The captain wore an expression of blank amazement, his retaliation delayed long enough for her to continue. Even Daxe turned to her in surprise, though his look revealed he was impressed as well.
“Nimbdell would not look favorably upon your accusations against our intentions, nor your hesitance to help solve a problem that could destroy the entire region and possibly the world if neglected. The details of my mission are none of your affair, but your cooperation will be appreciated. Think pragmatically here, captain, rather than allowing your station of power to cloud your judgment.”
After a moment of tight-lipped silence, the captain finally bowed his head. “I’ll take you to Kahreesa’s back entrance.”
Immediately upon arriving at the boulder with the once cleverly hidden hole in the ground behind it, and many footprints and drops of blood leading from it, Secile knew the creatures had already escaped with the possible exception of a few stragglers.
“Damn,” she cursed. She dreaded this moment; where she would have to sweep the captain’s power out from under him. In Secile’s years of study, Simyna threw in an extra course entailing diplomacy and politics. Thus, Secile was confident her decisions here would coincide with those of the Headmistress.
The mage squared her shoulders, stood up straight and turned to the captain ominously. “As of now, Chea’Laern is in the care of the Hosttowers of Nimbdell,” she began. But before the captain could protest she continued. “That does not mean we’re stripping you of your power in any way. However, since your king is missing we must step up beside you in this time of need to help keep order in the kingdom, and any problems you might cause will be recorded and reported to Headmistress Simyna. Worse, in this situation any wrong moves could spell disaster for the region. I suggest you choose and speak wisely here, captain.”
Daxe nearly failed to hide his surprised gasp, disguising it as a cough from inhaling dust, when the captain bowed before her. Apparently the seriousness of the situation finally hit the proud man.
“My services and my men are yours,” he submitted.
“Well said,” praised Secile with a bow of her own. “My friend and I will be leaving for a while. As long as you barricade the castle—that means not even you may enter—and block every possible entrance, you all should be safe until the entourage from Nimbdell arrives, or we come back, whichever is first. Please, good sir, I beg of you. For the sake of all our lives, keep everyone away from the castle and keep the people ignorant of their missing king.”
The captain looked as though the fact that Chea’Laern no longer had a ruler was just starting to find a sticky place in his mind. He hesitated a few seconds before swallowing hard and nodding weekly. Never in his entire tenure working for the king did he have to operate under disastrous circumstances. The worst he’d dealt with was a pathetic goblin raid in the surrounding hills. This catastrophe, however, was not only inside Chea’Laern’s gates, but within the castle walls as well. Suddenly his responsibilities multiplied, and he felt sick.
Secile and Daxe turned away while the captain emptied his stomach. By the time Secile and Daxe were on the road, the castle was completely sealed.
An hour later Secile took out her star orb, touched Simyna’s stars and blew. Daxe, of course, patrolled the parameter of the camp for the duration of her magic show.
“What news?” chimed the Headmistress’ fair voice from the orb.
“Not good,” frowned Secile. “Chea’Laern has fallen, and my best guess is the target has migrated to the valley.”
“The Valley of Silence?” asked Simyna, inquiring of a valley near Nimbdell often coveted by orcs and goblins for it’s many cleverly hidden nooks and crannies.
Secile shook her head, the image in Simyna’s star orb mimicking the movement, and clarified, “Nairsnia valley.”
There was a short pause before the Headmistress spoke again. “A handful of Masters will depart for Chea’Laern this night. Thank you, Secile. And good luck!”
The image in her orb faded. Secile tucked the device away, and then went to find Daxe. She found him leaning against a tree not far away, sharpening his hand axe.
“You ready?” she asked him.
Daxe stopped sharpening, but remained silent a moment before answering her. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he began softly. “You said these creatures have a leader?”
Secile nodded. “At least one.”
“And this leader, I assume, is the reason they escaped the castle and are traveling to this valley you speak of,” reasoned Daxe.
The mage nodded again. “Vaulinquelitaya is a seeker of conquest, so it would make sense that its puppets would try to build an empire for it.”
“So what if the leader knows someone would follow its pawns if one desired enough to stop its conquest?”
Secile’s eyes popped open. “Diversion tactics,” she breathed. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“So their empire could be built anywhere…” he trailed off.
Secile took out her star orb to contact Simyna. Daxe shuddered and moved away, for the idea of talking to a small glass ball and actually having it reply was too much for his nerves to handle—even after his ride through a portal.
“More information?” asked Simyna immediately.
“It is possible Vaulinquelitaya is using those who fell in Chea’Laern as a diversion. We will continue to follow them to the valley, but I thought it would be a good idea to warn you that the mountains near Nimbdell might not be safe either.”
“Our scryers have marked Amberley’s group just over a day away from the northeastern edge of The Valley of Silence. Perhaps we will send them back to your care. Your warning just might have saved their lives. Well done, Secile.”
The mage nodded, and her mind started down the path of strategy concerning the arrival of Amberley’s band, almost terminating communication through the star orb, when Simyna continued to speak. “But you and I both know why the target would choose the eastern valley. Doesn’t hurt to take all precautions, though, you are right about that.”
Secile nodded again. “I expect to find it soon.”
And then the connection was severed.
*
She saw it coming—did he really think the trick would fool her twice?
Kaia-mei and Caize decided to spar while Amberley sought some firewood, to rekindle old happy memories as well as to keep their fighter’s edge.
In her peripheral vision, for her eyes were glued to his as she picked off his feints with her sparring stick, Kaia-mei saw Caize loosening a boot with his other foot. She nearly centered her strategies on a counter move to his trick, but a thought occurred to her suddenly. What if he knew she would anticipate his move, and his plan entailed something altogether different?
Her analytical distraction cost her a painful smack to her left forearm, Caize’s grin appearing a full second before contact for he was confident she could not avoid it. She recovered quickly, though, with a backward hop, and growled the dull pain away.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Caize began to apologize.
But Kaia-mei wouldn’t let him finish. She knew his intentions were not to cause her pain, but her frustration drove her forward. She swung and stabbed and wove circles in the air before Caize with her stick as he backpedaled, but to no avail. He always seemed to be a step ahead of her.
Caize circled around, not to better position himself but to move his opponent to higher ground, putting Kaia-mei near the peak of the hill they’d unintentionally climbed during their intense sparring match. He observed Kaia-mei’s momentum had played out, her limbs beginning to tire, and figured he would not get a better opportunity. He kicked out hard, his loosened boot flying fast for Kaia-mei’s left shoulder, and rushed in behind the projectile.
Kaia-mei caught his boot by the ankle and smashed it into his fast approaching face, knocking aside his thrusting stick with her other hand’s weapon. She dropped her stick, surprised by her own actions.
Caize stumbled back, dropping his own stick, and clutched his bleeding nose.
“Oh, Caize! I’m so sorry,” Kaia-mei apologized sincerely, her concentration shattered.
But there was no need. Caize was laughing hysterically.
“That was amazing, Kaia!” he said as he pulled his hand away from his nose. There wasn’t much blood, just a trickle, and Kaia-mei was relieved at that. “Did you use magic?”
Kaia-mei frowned and turned away. “Not that I know of,” she said softly, though she worked hard to keep the disappointment—for letting her anger get out of control—out of her voice.
“Change of plans,” called Amberley from the top of the hill on which they sparred. She noticed the thin smear of blood on Caize’s forearm from wiping his nose but paid no heed, for she’d witnessed sparring matches before and knew these two were good friends.
The sparring match disappeared from Kaia-mei’s thoughts in the blink of an eye, and Amberley had both their attention.
“My brooch informs me that we are headed the wrong way,” the student began. She paused, anticipating questions about her vague statement, for she had never mentioned her brooch before now.
“Your what?” asked Kaia-mei, sharing Caize’s thoughts exactly.
Amberley almost laughed aloud. She’d forgotten how sheltered these new friends of hers were. So she pinched the engraved stone clasping her robe together at the neck. “This is a brooch, commonly used for either decoration or to hitch something together. This one, like all brooches given to students at Nimbdell, is a sort of compass. A lost student may follow its guidance back to Nimbdell. I recently discovered that the Headmistress can alter it, even from afar. Our whole journey thus far has been on course. And though we’ve not changed our course, the brooch now tells me to head in the opposite direction.”
“Could it be broken?” inquired Caize.
Amberley shook her head. “If it were, it would tell me nothing. No, I sense the alteration came from the Headmistress herself. Which can only mean the path to Nimbdell is no longer safe for us. We have a decision to make.”
The others waited for her to elaborate, Caize’s expression betraying his disappointment for not being able to see Nimbdell on schedule.
“We can either wait out here on the open wold for as long as it takes, with masters of Nimbdell constantly keeping an eye on us of course, or we can head back for the valley and hope Secile will be there to fill us in on recent events.”
Kaia-mei’s shoulders slumped. Caize thought she’d just drop straight to her seat and not move for a long time. But she recovered much quicker than he’d expected.
For one, the dreaded meeting with her father would be delayed. But the deciding factor was the realization that something terrible was happening in the region. The more she thought on it, the more she felt it; even caught a slight wiff of death and decay in the air. Her first thought of concern was for Caize and his family. What if their valley was in trouble? They left during a visit from a possibly dangerous army after all. Kaia-mei began to wonder why she even left in the first place. She felt a coward.
“Let’s go home,” she finally said, glancing sadly at Caize.
Amberley’s smile was great. “I’ve always wanted to see that valley. Headmistress Simyna says it’s gorgeous!”
“It used to be…” Kaia-mei trailed off.
Caize gazed at the towering mountains to the northwest, the mountains hiding the famed Hosttowers of Nimbdell in their northern shadows, and wondered when the day would arrive that he could explore their many avenues. Not that he was interested in learning to use his magic—he definitely preferred predictable, controlled, close combat melee. He just wanted to see in person the picture Secile painted for him. Not to mention every explorer’s desire to be able to say he’d been there when a group of impressionable children, or villagers not fortunate enough to travel the world, would whisper excitedly to each other the tales of Nimbdell.
But he realized Nimbdell would be there for a long time, and his family and friends back home might not.
*
Brinney didn’t fully understand what was happening to her mother. She only knew what “Lishy” told her. Her mind considered only the present; she could not piece together the illness’ leeching affect on the organs that kept Sholee’s soul tied to her mortal coil. She couldn’t see that if not tended to, those organs would rapidly decompose and soon release her mother’s soul to freedom.
She sat on Sholee’s bedside, one caring and comforting hand on the woman’s sweaty forehead with the other on her lifeless arm, waiting for her to awaken. The ill woman hadn’t stirred to consciousness in over a day.
“You worried about her, Brin?” Creole asked, stopping in the doorway. He just came in from talking with some of his friends outside about both Chea’Laern and Sholee’s condition.
Brinney nodded meekly.
“Me, too, hun. Me, too.” He walked over and knelt next to her.
She hugged him and buried her face in his shoulder. “T’ey come…” she trailed off, followed by a shudder.
“Who, Brin? The soldiers are coming?”
She shook her head and looked up into his eyes. “The dead,” she said, ominously calm.
Goosebumps invaded his whole body.
But he wasn’t seriously frightened until she added, “T’is night.”
“Wait here, and don’t answer the door!”
He hugged her and kissed her on the forehead, then bolted out of the cabin as fast as a fox. He nearly plowed into Vansea, who had come to inquire of Neeka’s location, and slowed only enough to ask her to watch Brinney for a while. Vansea complied, rushing into the cabin and to Brinney’s side, thinking something had happened—though all was as she’d left them on her last visit.
He nearly tripped over himself several times on the way to the cabins of his two closest friends—next to Gurandi—but eventually made it unscathed. After dragging them from their wives and children to the northwestern outskirts of the village, he explained his erratic behavior.
“Something bad is coming to the village tonight.”
His friends glanced at each other in concern, which only made him more desperate.
“Come on, guys. You know I’ve been worried about my daughter and her strange prophecies since the beginning, but you also know that she’s never been proven wrong.”
Maelchi, a shorter balding man with bushy brown eyebrows and a stocky frame, nodded slightly but kept silent. The other, a tall and lanky silver haired older man, just stared at Creole in anticipation.
“We might not have seen all her prophecies come true, and might not have understood all her strange babblings, but the ones we have seen and understood were quite the coincidence, eh?”
“What is it, now, Creole?” asked Maelchi impatiently. He was about to enjoy a fine meal with his family when Creole came crashing in.
Waredin, the oldest of the three, shared the same impatience. “Is it about the soldiers?”
Creole shrugged. “Brin said the dead are coming. Unless the soldiers got themselves killed, I doubt it’s them.”
“The dead?” exclaimed Waredin.
“The dead don’t go anywhere,” added Maelchi skeptically.
Creole sighed and shook his head, then fell back against a tree and dropped to a crouch. He felt he was losing his mind. “I don’t know what it means, fellas. It might not be what it sounds, could be something altogether different, but the only way Brin knows how to describe them is ‘dead’. Either way, something bad is coming and it’s scaring hell into my little girl. I don’t want to find out what it is, but I don’t want it to find us either.”
Waredin crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at Creole with pity. Maelchi sat next to Creole, a comforting hand squeezing his friend’s shoulder.
“It couldn’t hurt to keep a lookout, right?” asked Creole desperately.
Waredin sighed and looked up at the sky, seeming his way of escaping the situation, while Maelchi was quick to respond.
“So we’re to rouse the village and have everyone climb trees in every direction and wait there until something shows up?”
Creole realized the ridiculousness of that suggestion as much as Maelchi did. But he had a better idea.
“The cliffs!” he gasped. “From the cliffs we can see over all the trees both east and west. If whatever is coming is smart enough to be dangerous, they’ll likely come from either of those two directions.”
“Or the caves,” pointed Maelchi.
“And what when the night falls?” asked Waredin. “Dead things don’t need torches to see in the dark, if they can see at all.” He mumbled the end of the sentence, showing his skepticism in the whole ordeal.
Creole dropped his face to his palms and muttered, “If only a mage were here.”
“Listen to yourself! We all agreed to deny existence of magic and mages and all the like to protect our children. Now all of a sudden your daughter acts strangely and you’re disrespecting our agreement!”
Creole looked up to the older man and realized he was right. “Aye, we agreed to keep the secret. But did you think it would last forever? We told our children the strangers coming through here spouting off tales of magic and mages were mumbling fools and it worked for a while. But then an actual mage comes and takes my son and Gurandi’s daughter away! How can we explain that?” He paused to catch his breath and calm a bit. “Besides, Brinney speaks of a horrible danger and I’m not going to stand around and wait for it to get us from behind. The choice is yours.”
Waredin threw his hands up in defeat and stormed off.
Maelchi knelt behind his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll watch out for your family if you stay here and watch out for us.”
Creole smiled at him, grateful to at least have one friend, and nodded his agreement.
Hours later the sun plunged below the horizon. Creole grew more agitated by the minute, peering to the southwest as he stood at the cliff’s edge, wondering if and when Brinney’s warning would bare rotten fruit. Waredin and Maelchi were with Brinney and Sholee while he was out keeping watch, so at least he didn’t have to worry about his family at the moment.
Suddenly an orange glow appeared in the distant southwest. Then more appeared, and disappeared soon after. It looked as though small fires were being lit on the wold in the dark night, then extinguished shortly after. One of the orange globes shot straight up into the air and fell back down. Then Creole noticed the arching pattern in the globes’ flight.
“Flaming arrows,” he muttered. He remembered Rahmina’s promise to come back for them should a threat rear its ugly head. He knew, then, that Rahmina was returning, and they now battled an enemy out on the wold. It had to be them!
The sound of galloping horses echoed into the valley suddenly, and Creole jumped up from his sitting position and ran full out down to the valley floor to intercept the riders. A small handful of Rahmina’s soldiers were glad to see him alive.
“Sir Duunlare! You must evacuate the valley immediately! Danger is close, you haven’t much time!”
The soldiers then turned their horses and rode fast, back to Rahmina’s side.
Brinney left her mother’s side to look out the cabin’s front window. Waredin and Maelchi were puffing on their pipes while Vansea sat on the porch steps and stared at the sky. She still felt keenly the evil that approached their valley, but suddenly a more pure sensation grew near; and was inside the valley. She realized it was even very close to her cabin. She rushed to the bedroom window, then, and wasn’t surprised to see Alishiscina there. She pulled the shutters wide immediately exclaiming, “Lishy!”
The fairy put a finger to pursed lips, “I must not be noticed!”
Brinney nodded, backed a step and fell silent. The fairy fluttered in, a wary eye on the other room in case the front door opened. “You must gather everyone and go to the lake. Quickly!”
“But, mother…” Brinney protested.
“I will protect her. She will be well.”
Brinney didn’t trust most people, but she trusted her new winged friend.
Creole had already started gathering the villagers, but he was going to take them into the mountains. Brinney, Vansea, Waredin and Maelchi found him quickly, and Maelchi told him his daughter was hysterical about getting them all to go to the lake.
“She says we’ll be safe there,” Waredin said, still a little skeptical about the coming danger despite the soldiers’ warning. He figured they battled a tribe of goblins.
“Then we will.” Creole replied with a tone of finality. He turned to his daughter. “But what about your mother?”
“She well,” was all Brinney would explain. Creole wasn’t so easy to convince; he still held his doubts, but he had to trust his daughter. There was no way she would leave Sholee behind if the woman would be killed. Or was that just a hope? But if Brinney could, then so could he.
And they started away. Waredin looked at him as though he’d lost his sanity, but followed anyway.
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Another great chapter. I’m looking forward to more. I didn’t point out pov shifts this time, there weren’t that many. I am enjoying the plot and the characters.
“She’d explored a decent amount of the caves through the entrance closest to the village’s southern edge, and at least knew how to get to the northern entrance from there. So she reached the cave in just under an hour.” This is a bit awkward. Also “a decent amount” it vague. It would mean different amounts to different people. I would end the first sentence with edge. And she at least knew how to get to the northern entrance from there, so she reached the a cave in just under an hour. Another alternative would be leave it like it is and delete the word ‘so.’
“obligated to light her torch” I don’t think she was obligated, she needed the torch, didn’t she?
“appearance of goblins or kobolds indicated” Did I miss something? Why would kobolds mean she’s on the right path. I thought she was looking for Burkae.
“the voice struck in her made her” her, made
“She nearly vomited, so strong it was.” Awkward. She nearly vomited, it was so strong. Or. It was so strong, she nearly vomited.
“especiall” especially
“And the tunnels” Delete ‘And.’
“confident in her ability to defend herself” even against an entire band of goblins and kobolds? And a mysterious evil voice? Seems over confident or very naïve.
“would deplete their chance” You just used the word deplete. I think decrease would work better here.
“of the last three hills” hills,
“She asked her lightest soldiers to double up, freeing some horses from riders, so when their horses began to tire at least a few of them would be able to continue; to get ahead of the main group so the villagers could receive a more timely warning.” Consider revising. It’s awkward and I don’t think that the proper use of a semicolon.
“emereged from” emerged
“I’ll take you to Kahreesa’s back entrance.” I thought he was supposed to talk about the dungeons and all the exits.
“asked Simyna immediately.” Delete immediately. You’ve gotten into a habit of almost always having three word dialogue tags. It seems repetitive.
“learning to use his magic” I don’t remember reading that Caize has magic.
Exciting ending. Neeka’s still in the cave, Caize and Kia are on their way home, the village is under attack by creatures they don’t know how to kill. I’m looking forward to when this all comes together. How many chapters are there? How many pages?
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