Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (32 page)

“
It has been many years since Ka'Varel has appeared here in Lloreander. He is ever welcome, yet acts more of late like a prophet, it seems. During his last visit, fifty-seven years ago, he warned Demons would return, amongst other things. It seems he was right, and not only concerning that. Where is he now, Andrak? His knowledge would be of great value in the times to come.”

“
I know not where he is, or even if he lives. He was injured when last I saw him.” Andrak briefly told about the fight with the kidnappers and the loss of Kitara, then spoke of his fight with the Goth leading to his meeting with Janantar. This time there were no questions, only worried frowns from the two Elvin leaders.

“
You have my condolences for your loss, Andrak.” Mayeserana gave a comforting smile; though wan, her eyes looking close to tears. She gave a glance to the gathered Druids. “Perhaps we can be of some assistance in finding her.” There was something in her tone that told Andrak she was not speaking of conventional means.

“
Can you tell us anything about the Shadowspawn, Prince Andrak?" Solantholas’ concern for his people's predicament was obviously strong on his mind. "From the messages, we were told the threat could be here within a year, and we have seen evidence of this already. Are the other realms gathering for war? Can we destroy these Portals? We do not even know where they are all located.” It was close to desperation from the Elf leader, his voice tense with concern. Andrak could understand what frustration he must be feeling, as he had similar feelings with regards to Kitara.

“
A young warrior has spoken of one in Tyr, inside a cave system in the Dragonwing Mountains.” Valdieron had spoken of this after Ka'Varel had drawn a diagram of the Portals and their Seals. "It was a Portal unknown by the Astral City, who knew the location of seven of these Portals and have them guarded closely. How many others there were, even Ka'Varel had not known, but had guessed there could be as many as a dozen of them." He described the dark Portal and Dragon Seal to Solantholas, and was shocked when the Elf's face grew ashen. Both the Druids and Elders began arguing softly amongst themselves.

“
The Glade!”

Mayeserana turned at her partner's words. “The glade?” There was doubt in her thoughtful reiteration. “It is possible. Only we of the Sylvaen have even seen it. Not even the Lorewielders or Ka'Varel himself has ever witnessed it.”

Solantholas turned to the Druids who had gathered closer to each other, whispering anxiously among themselves. “Clovinius, is it possible the Glade was once, or still is, one of these Portals? The description is too close for one who has never been to the Glade.”

A tall Druid stepped forward from beside Ashaella, Andrak's gaze skipping from him to her quickly. Her slender face was set in a grim expression as her eyes followed Clovinius. The Druid had long snowy hair, marking him as old, though his face was still handsome and stern. His eyes were like a dew covered field at sunrise, and they regarded Solantholas pensively.

“
It is possible. That the Glade is magical has been certified, though Arcane in nature and beyond even our understanding. That it is of Kay'taari construction is also likely, though I had always felt it to be a malevolent place.”

Solantholas was thoughtful for a time and a tense silence descended upon the hall. A quick glance told Andrak that whatever place this Glade was, it was more than likely one of the Portals, which meant it was probably the source of the Shadowspawn.

“
Kalandar!” The Prince jerked to attention, an almost feverish gleam in his eyes as if he knew what it was he was about to be asked. “Gather fifty of the Wish'kara and scout the Glade. If there are Shadowspawn there, do not engage them unless it is certain you can overwhelm them. Clovinius, is there any chance of creating a barrier to keep the Shadowspawn from using this Portal if it is opened?”

The snow  haired Druid shook his head ruefully. “Nothing of power or permanence. We can set up wards and try to strengthen the Seal, but if it is already destroyed, we will not be able to hold it for long. Anything seeking entry will tear through our wards like a child through a spider's web.”

“
Then send who you must with Kalandar. I want any threat disposed of, or at least identified. Do not risk yourselves against overwhelming numbers. We can send a larger force if necessary.” Andrak guessed the Elf leader was not keen to send a larger force in case it was an ambush or similar trap, so it surprised him Kalandar had been assigned to lead them.

“
If I may, Majesty, I would like to accompany these scouts.”

Solantholas' stern gaze turned on him, dark blue eyes studying. “If there are Shadowspawn, the fighting may be furious and deadly.” He raised his hand in placation as Andrak began to say he was no coward. “I do not doubt your bravery or skill with the Blade, Son of Dhoric. Reaching the glade will require speed and stealth, and although I have heard you move well for a Kahara, you will only hold up any progress. Not by much, mind, but enough to make some difference, which could be costly. Also, I would not have you put in danger on your first day in Lloreander. Already our hospitality has been marred with the welcome you received at the hands of the Shadowspawn.”

Andrak accepted the ruling with a grudging nod, though he knew it was both true and necessary. He did not even know if he was capable of fighting, let alone running whatever distance it was to this glade. As if to taunt him, he barely stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and thought he saw the Elf ruler turn a wry smile his way, though fleeting.

Kalandar was away already, while both Elders and Druids began to disperse, still joined together in hushed and urgent conversation. A moment of alienation seized Andrak as he wondered now what was needed of him, but a white  clad woman approached him, by the looks a servant, as she greeted him and asked him to follow her to his new lodgings. Distracted, he followed her soft footsteps, hardly seeing where it was she was leading him, through leafy hallways and across narrow spans. They did descend, however, something he was dimly glad of, but by the time the young elf stopped at a different hollowed bole and indicating it was where he could rest, he was anxiously wondering what this scouting group would uncover.

Feelings of pending doom weighed at him as he entered with soft thanks to the young woman. A narrow bed dominated the room with its scant furnishings, onto which he dropped with a sigh, suddenly feeling the tiredness of the previous night catching up to him again. Slowly he drifted into sleep, but what dreams he had were not pleasing, and most involved Kitara. Tossing and turning, he did not see the Elvin scouting party leave Lloreander on silent feet, armed and tense, nor did he see or could have seen the shadowy form who flitted from the dark recesses of an arched tree and set off after them, as silent as the faint wind.

The
parched, sun  baked land of the Urak’Hai stretched around the small line of caravans, desolate and unforgiving. The creaking of leather and the rattle of steel combined with the continual clatter of heavily shod hooves, to carry like alarm bells through the silent, almost barren terrain. Shallow rises and hollows swallowed or muffled some of these sounds, but still a whisper seemed to carry many miles.

Braced against the constant jostling of the rough wagon beneath him, Kylaran warily watched the surrounding lands, long since given up cursing the harshness of the road or the unforgiving wooden bench beneath him. Occasionally, he would glance at one of King Dhoric's mounted soldiers and rue having never really learned how to ride. He had little skill there, which forced him to have to ride in one of the wagons.

An unheard signal must have passed from the lead wagon where Thorgast rode, both as leader and the first likely to encounter danger. With him rode Crael, Commander of the hundred soldiers from Thorhus. The wagon rumbled to a halt amid a jostling of hooves and nervous snorting. A fine cloud of dust caught them, but it merely slid off the fine layer that already covered everything on the wagon, including Kylaran.

Taking the opportunity, Kyle dropped stiffly from the wagon, feeling tight muscles and other areas almost sigh from the reprieve. He circled the wagon slowly, not only for the stretch but also for the opportunity to inspect the mechanics of the wagon. Already, they had been forced to take two days of rest while three wagons were repaired, a consequence of the rigors of the harsh roads here in the lands north of Korik. Everything seemed in order, though worn. The wide strips of leather around each wheel were worn and would need replacing soon, but if Thorgast was correct, they should be in Chul’Haka the following day.

He also inspected the bundle of bound spikes tied to the right side of the wagon. Twenty pointed spikes, twelve feet long, were strapped there on the command of Thorgast, duplicated on every second wagon in the line of twenty. This was in the event of attack, especially from Haruken. The wagons would form a wide circle and the spikes used to form a palisade against the longer reach of the four- armed creatures. There were not enough hired guards to use the whole two  hundred spikes, but half the soldiers would assist while drivers kept control of mounts and wagons. The wagons not carrying spikes held barrels of precious water and sand, to be used to quench fires if the Haruken opted to launch a fiery assault.

On thought of the Haruken, Kyle reached for the haft of the axe at his waist. Though heavy, he had become accustomed to the daily weight and feel of the weapon and now wore it more easily. Thorgast had been giving him lessons in the use of the weapon of a night when not organizing food or sentries or plans in case of attack. Whether from growing friendship, necessity, or an obligation at being Valdieron's boyhood friend, Kyle was nonetheless grateful for the instruction. Although he held no false ideas at his prowess, what skill he had would keep him from cutting his own leg off, and maybe give an enemy pause.

Riders approaching from the head of the column brought him to the front of the wagon where he gave the horses a wide berth. He had handled horses while an apprentice in Shadowvale, but most of those had belonged to Garrik Ketherson, and therefore tame and pliant. Most of the mounts that pulled the wagons were not as tame, and were more inclined to take a snap at him or any other they sensed uncomfortable around them.

Thorgast and Crael rode alongside the wagons, pausing at each to speak briefly. The line of mounted soldiers at either side of the wagons drew erect in their saddles as their commander passed, though to Kyle it seemed the graying commander did not notice, or if he did, he showed no concern as the soldiers sank back to their ease as he passed. The heat was overbearing at the best of times, let alone at midday and burdened with padded leather and jerkins of plate and chain mail.

Crael and Thorgast drew rein before Kyle and his wagon where the driver, Arbell, sat with feet crossed under him and chewing a strip of leather as his hardened, sun  cracked face watched the two riders casually. Kyle cursed the man's apparent ease of sitting, never stretching or showing signs of discomfort.

“
The road divides ahead and flanks the main road.” Thorgast turned a large hand and motioned off to the left of the road where a thin track was barely visible to Kyle's gaze, as he was forced to shield his eyes from the sun's intense glare. The path twisted away as it flanked a rocky range stretching some miles north to south. “It moves through Jhaerren's Gap, and is less likely to be watched, but several places will provide excellent sites for an ambush, so keep an eye out. On three blasts, make haste forward. On four, hold up and make ready for battle, as we have planned. The pass should be wide enough for the wagons to circle.”

Kylaran did not have to ask if there would be a signal for retreat, because should the wagons and soldiers be forced into flight, they would be like lame rabbits in a bare field with hungry hawks circling overhead.

“
Any word from the scouts?” asked Arbell hoarsely. Thorgast had several scouts in every direction on the lookout for signs of Haruken or other dangers. Twice they had proved valuable in providing warning against Hrolth and Haruken raids. Both times, their defenses were set to thwart both bands, which had numbered as many as forty and had been hoping to catch them off guard. The battle  trained soldiers had defeated both bands with limited injuries, though Kyle did not have to look around to know that four horses already rode with no riders, who lay in shallow rock-covered graves by the roadside many leagues behind.

Thorgast shook his head while Crael answered. The veteran looked to Kyle as the sort of man who led by example rather than through hard words or strictness, though any laziness or lack of attentiveness he stamped down on instantly. He offered what was needed and usually nothing more, obviously content to listen rather than speak.

“
There have been a few sightings of scattered Haruken, but nothing more. Even the pass appears bare, but there are a few caves and bores that can hide many men. While Thorgast says this is not the Haruken way, it is best to be cautious. I cannot see them allowing easy access to Chul’Haka if they are truly intent on laying siege to the city.”

This was one of the longest sentences Kyle had heard from the soldier, but there was an undertone of concern in his voice. Kyle guessed the reason for it was that if there was little indication of Haruken, there was a possibility they had already overtaken the Barbarian city and had no need of outer defenses. Conversely, there was the chance the Haruken had withdrawn, but such an outcome would be too much to hope for.