Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (20 page)

Gustin and Hetark had gathered the extra
mounts, so now they had two spare mounts for each rider.

Hetark spoke to Elizabeth and Drake as they
mounted, “We need to be on our way, it’s not an opportune time to
run into the other half of these soldiers.”

“We confirmed that it is Von Dracek
commanding them and you are correct, it’s time we started getting
as far ahead of that evil man as possible,” suiting action to words
Elizabeth guided her horse into a canter down the forest path and
the three knights quickly followed.

They rode along the forest path passing in
and out of the occasional slanted beam from the afternoon’s golden
sunlight. To either side of
them,
the quiet forest of tall majestic trees passed by like the world’s
largest cathedral. Elizabeth’s mind wandered as she rode, pictures
of the happy times she had spent with her husband roamed through
her consciousness. She recalled a picnic along the fringe of this
very forest, three summers ago, where Jatar had skimmed stones down
the creek while she watched. She remembered watching the rings as
they expanded to the creek’s shore, and thought of Lucent, one of
her Kirnath instructors, using expanding water ripples as an
example of expanding your aura perceptions in ever widening
circles.

She also thought about the night when Jatar
had so proudly introduced her to his foster brothers: Pellev,
Verdew and Berelle. He had been like a
schoolboy
after his first kiss, she remembered looking at
his aura and how it shone with bright highlights mirroring his
excitement and love.

I wonder what his brothers are doing
now,
she thought,
I hope they’re safe; they probably don’t
even know Jatar is gone.

In some ways she wished she shared their
ignorance. She contemplated her husband’s personality, he had been
such a good man and ruler, his foresight in choosing six Knight
Protectors was already bearing fruit as they bravely protected his
son and heir.

Jatar now lives on through you,
Michael,
the young mother thought as she looked down to where
the infant slept fitfully in her jouncing sling.
You are my last
connection with Jatar... wait! That’s what I forgot, where has my
brain been? Jatar’s spirit is gone, but I can still speak with his
personality through his imprint in the Ardellen family ring. Jatar
sent the signet ring with G’Taklar on that embassy to Zinterdalin.
I’ve got to recover that ring before it falls into the hands of our
enemies!

As she thought about Jatar’s cathexis ring
Elizabeth fingered the most precious of her family heirlooms, a
small round earring she wore pierced through her soft
earlobe
.

The pine needle road curved up a gentle rise
in the forest entering some low hills.

Elizabeth’s mind returned from her
wanderings; Michael’s weight was causing her an ache where his
sling hung around her neck. She decided that they could all use a
short break as long as Von Dracek was far enough behind.

Her thoughts went to Von Dracek and his men.
She now knew that they planned to take Michael from her for some
evil purpose and they threatened her life and the lives of these
brave men.

A seething anger burned in her mind as this
normally gentle young woman considered her pursuer’s plan.
Elizabeth forced her mind to calm and her pulse slowed to match the
rhythmic motions of her mount. When her mind was clear she slowly
extended her aura in a widening circle, like a ripple in a still
pond, as she quested outwards for traces of Von Dracek’s men on
their back trail.

Due to the nature of her aura expanding in a
circle Elizabeth’s perception extended out in all directions. To
her
shock,
she located the burning
glow of ten human auras arranged in an ambush that they had just
entered. Holding onto her visible emotions like the reins of a wild
horse, Elizabeth looked carefully at the layout of the enemy
soldiers. She and her knights wouldn’t be completely into the kill
zone for another fifty feet or so, but it was already too late to
turn back.

She spoke in a low voice to her knights,
“Don’t look anywhere or react, but we’re surrounded by the
Tchulians, get ready to follow me on my signal.”

Again she quickly checked the placement of
their enemies with her powers; she looked for a seam in the net of
death in which they had unknowingly been entangled and found it.
There was a slight ravine between two of the hidden soldiers that
could provide her party some protection. Most of the soldiers
wouldn’t be able to see them
to
fire
a bow and only the two closest were in an
optimum
position to shoot at them if they broke
through at that point.

“Now!” she yelled, and without further
warning,
Elizabeth kicked her
horse into a gallop and made a sudden left turn off the road into
the trees.

Her horse
leaped
as if stung and lunged off the path and up the
short bank into the forest. Elizabeth charged forward and the three
Knight Protectors raced to keep up. The sorceress raised her aura
shields, she didn’t have nearly enough power to protect the knights
from the crossbow bolts, but she could stop them from striking her
or Michael.

The enemy soldiers were not long in reacting
to their move since they had been prepared for action as their
quarry neared the center of their trap. So although they were
momentarily surprised by the sudden departure of their prey, they
were still quick enough to shoot their bows.

Three crossbow bolts zinged across the
forest. One ‘
thunked
’ into
Gustin’s leg with a dull wet sound and the other went low into the
chest of Hetark’s horse, causing it to stumble momentarily. The
third hit the neck of the empty horse he was pulling by the reins.
The extra horse went down which yanked the reins loose from Hetark
with a jerk, and caused his second spare mount to fall as well.
Hetark was delayed slightly and fell behind the others by four
lengths.

Hetark cursed his luck, but he didn’t want
to put Elizabeth in danger by slowing them down, so he decided to
get a new mount and stop the enemy from pursuing. He yelled to the
others, “Go on without me, protect Michael and Elizabeth; I’m going
after their horses.”

Before anyone could argue with him he turned
his wounded horse and galloped off toward the likeliest area for
their enemies to have placed their horse picket.

Hetark slipped over the side of his horse to
use the body of his animal to protect himself from half the area
that an arrow or bolt might fly, unfortunately that still left him
exposed on the other side. The swish sound of flying death
whispered its call as crossbow bolts passed close by, then one
struck his saddle and another hammered into his left shoulder,
which nearly causing him to fall from his horse. He angled his
horse through a thick group of trees to give him further protection
from the enemy’s shots. Hetark made it through their gauntlet
wounded, but alive. His horse was not so lucky and her breath
became labored while her eyes rolled wildly and blood
foamed
from her mouth.

“Come on baby, I know it hurts, just a
little further,” he whispered to the dying mare, knowing the pain
she felt because of the duplicate wound in his shoulder.

Coming over another rise he saw his goal,
the soldiers had picketed their horses on a rope tied between two
trees, only sixty yards ahead. Just then his horse finally gave up
the fight and its front legs buckled. Together horse and rider
fell. Hetark was launched over the head of his falling mount. He
tried to turn the fall into a
roll
and partially succeeded. The bolt in his left shoulder was wrenched
painfully as he rolled across the forest floor, and suddenly that
last sixty yards looked like twenty leagues to the bloody, battered
and wounded knight.

Elizabeth looked back to see what was wrong
just in time to see Hetark angle away from the group on his wounded
horse. She started to turn her horse, but she felt her son in the
sling and realized that she could not risk the heir; Hetark would
have to survive this one alone.

Tears came from her eyes, but she looked
forward and concentrated on staying on her fast moving horse as
they galloped through the trees.

Figuring they
were
passed
the trap and out of range of the bows, Elizabeth
dropped her shield to conserve her powers. It was then that Major
Von Dracek stepped from behind a tree and released an aura attack
in a bolt of yellow energy that hit Elizabeth before she even knew
what was happening. It was similar to the attack she had used on
the vorghoul. The energy wrapped itself around the contours of her
body and began to burn and eat away at her aura.

The suddenness of the surprise attack came
too close on the shock of the ambush, and Elizabeth’s aura had been
overused and weakened from the recent uses. Only her training from
her Kirnath School and the strength of a mother protecting her son
allowed her to get control of her aura through the burning
pain.

With an ear-shattering scream, the enraged
Elizabeth brought her aura powers under control again and the
energy from Von Dracek’s attack was destroyed by her rigidly
controlled aura in a blinding flash of dissipating energy, but
there was a cost, that effort damaged her spirit.

By then their galloping mounts carried them
past Von
Dracek;
but Hetark was
nowhere to be seen.

Von Dracek leaned heavily against a tree and
watched the retreating backs of Elizabeth and her knights. His body
was weak from the expenditure of spirit and his mind dumbfounded
that she had somehow survived the blast.

He had expended almost every bit of power he
had in an effort to destroy the sorceress before she had any chance
to resist, but he had expected to get some of that expended energy
returned to him once hers had been consumed. Somehow she had turned
the tables and destroyed all of the aura power that he had sent, so
nothing would be returning. It would be days before his powers
healed to their full capacity.

The only consolation was that he had seen
the wound to her spirit in her aura colors, and that would mean she
would not have her full abilities back for even longer. He could
afford to follow her for a few days, recuperate his aura and still
attack her while she was wounded.

He turned and looked toward the horse picket
and was instantly concerned, two of his men were ahead of him and
running in that direction. He remembered that one of Elizabeth’s
knights had ridden away from the others. Dredging up what little
energy he had left the major began to run toward their horses, his
only hope was the scout Mauklar who had been left to guard the
mounts.

As the dust settled around Hetark he lifted
his head and looked toward the enemy’s horses; he winced as his
shoulder informed his body that movement was not in his best
interest. An enemy soldier with a drawn blade was running toward
him, his fast pace eating up the last forty yards to where Hetark
sat nearly helpless.

Hetark looked back at his dead horse and saw
his loaded crossbow still miraculously attached to the back of his
saddle. He wondered if he had the energy to get to it in time.
Finding strength from pure desperation he half crawled and half
drug himself to the weapon. It was tied onto the saddle by a
leather thong. He didn’t have time to untie it, so he reached down
to his boot knife, which he discovered was now missing.

Telling himself not to panic, he quickly
pulled his sword and cut the thong. He could hear the footsteps of
the approaching man behind him crunching the forest leaves in quick
jabbing steps, so he rolled onto his back and fired up at his
leaping attacker.

The bolt struck the Tchulian scout
on
the left side of the chest and
spun him around, but his momentum carried him down onto Hetark who
watched helplessly as two hundred pounds of man landed on his
poorly treated body.

The impact knocked the air from his lungs.
After a moment, Hetark gasped in a breath and then mustered up the
strength to push the wounded enemy off his chest. The man let out a
moan of pain as Hetark pushed him onto the ground. Hetark staggered
to his feet and looked toward the horse picket. Everything around
him, including the ground, seemed to move in a slow rotating
fashion.

His first crazy thought was,
How did I
get drunk?
Then he remembered the crossbow bolt in his shoulder
and started into a tilted, staggering run toward the horses. He
knew that more enemies would soon show up for a chance to stick
something pointy into his already mistreated body.

When he reached the horses they shied away
from the smell of blood coming from Hetark’s wounded shoulder. He
untied the first horse and reached up to the saddle horn to pull
himself up with his good arm. Once there he maneuvered the horse
over to one end of the picket line. He leaned down to cut it loose,
nearly falling off his horse as pain shot through his shoulder from
the embedded crossbow bolt. He took that end of the line and rode
to the other side where he cut the other end free and then wound
both ends around his saddle pommel. All thirty-two horses were now
attached to the loop of rope he had secured to his saddle horn.

Starting slowly he got the whole herd moving
into the forest; luckily the horses were skittish and eager to
run.

From behind
him,
he heard the sounds of pursuit, but they were too
late, he had the horses going faster than a man could run.

Now,
he thought,
if only I can
keep from falling off until I get far enough away, I should be
fine,
but the world kept spinning.