Council of War (24 page)

"Steady," Prince Rigal said softly. "There is nothing to be gained by acting hastily. Don't let the eyes distract you from watching the rest of the forest."

"How can you remain calm?" Gerant asked nervously.

"I am not calm inside," answered the elven prince, "but I will not let my emotions rule over reason. When there is something real to kill, we will both act bravely. Until then, just wait and watch."

Gerant nodded, but his breathing remained heavy as several more sets of eyes suddenly appeared. The distant howling that had begun with the appearance of the first set of eyes suddenly stopped. The forest grew silent, and Gerant became more nervous.

"I can't stand the howling," Gerant said softly, "but I don't like when it stops like that either."

Prince Rigal did not answer as he rose to his feet and nocked an arrow. Gerant also rose and stood back to back with his prince. Gerant stared into the darkness of the trees and saw all of the eyes blink out of existence at the same time. Without the presence of the eyes staring at him, the elf thought he saw something move deep in the trees. He blinked his eyes and pulled back on the bowstring. For several long moments he concentrated his focus on the area where he had seen the movement until his eyes began to hurt from the strain. He blinked again and was positive that something was out there. When he saw the movement again, he swiftly raised his bow and let the arrow fly. Prince Rigal reacted immediately when he heard the bowstring snap. He whirled around, ready to release his own arrow.

"Hey there!" shouted a voice from the darkness. "Are you trying to kill someone?"

Karl and the Rangers heard the shout and immediately leaped to their feet. They gathered next to the elves with arrows nocked.

"What is it?" Karl asked in a whisper.

"Something is moving out there," Gerant replied as he nocked another arrow. "It is trying to make us think it is human."

"Hello the camp?" called the voice. "Are you going to kill me, or can I join you peacefully?"

"I recognize that voice," stated Prince Rigal. "It is the old man."

"Fakir Aziz?" asked Karl.

"Sounds like him," nodded the elven prince, "but who can say what is real in this forest. We should be careful."

"Fakir Aziz?" shouted Karl. "Is that you?"

"That's my name," came the reply.

"Walk slowly towards us," instructed the Knight of Alcea. "Stop when I tell you to or my men may skewer you."

Karl put down his bow and drew his sword. Clint immediately mimicked the Knight of Alcea. A dark shadow shifted in the woods, and everyone focused on it.

"Max, Shawn," Karl whispered, "watch the other sectors. The elves will watch the arrival of our visitor."

The Rangers dutifully obeyed while Karl stared at the moving shadows. The old man moved very slowly, taking each step with care as he approached the clearing.

"There is another shadow moving behind him," Gerant whispered nervously.

"Easy," cautioned Prince Rigal. "Hold your fire until Karl says otherwise."

The four warriors watched the old man slowly appear out of the darkness.

"He is leading his mule," Clint said with surprise. "What do you think?"

"Halt!" Karl ordered the old man. "Show us your teeth and the teeth of your mule."

"Our teeth?" balked Fakir Aziz. "Have you gone daft?"

"Just do it," said Karl as he hesitantly moved forward, his sword ready to strike in a moment's notice.

Fakir Aziz opened his mouth wide and set his teeth together. He held the pose for almost a minute before spreading the lips of his mule.

"They look alright to me," Clint said softly from alongside Karl.

"Why are you traveling at night?" asked the Knight of Alcea.

"I have been following you for two days," replied the tutor. "I finally decided that I didn't want to follow you any more so I pushed on in hopes of catching up to you. I prefer to travel with others in a strange forest. Why are you acting so strange? Have I done something to offend you?"

"I thought you left before us?" asked Prince Rigal. "How is it that you are now behind us?"

"You must have left first," shrugged Fakir. "When I left your campsite I spent some time going back along the Aranak Road to a small village to get supplies. When I got back to the campsite you were gone."

"It's plausible," Clint said softly. "I just don't know if I believe him."

"I don't know either," admitted the Knight of Alcea, "but I can hardly deny the clearing to a fellow traveler. Have Max and Shawn watch us from a distance. I am going to invite him into the camp."

Clint nodded and walked away. Karl signaled the elves to relax their posture before waving the old man into the camp.

"Come and sit with me," invited Karl. "I would like to ask you a few questions."

Fakir Aziz led his mule into the clearing. He drove a piece of metal into the ground and tied his mule to it. Karl watched closely as the old man removed several packs from the mule and placed them on the ground. He removed a bowl shaped piece of canvas with ropes attached to it. He hung it over the mule's head and poured water from a skin into it. When he was done, the philosopher turned and walked over to Karl.

"You have a strange sense of hospitality, Karl Gree."

"We are in a strange place, Fakir Aziz. Sit and talk to me."

Fakir glanced around the campsite and saw everyone staring at him. He frowned as he sat down, but he did not speak until Karl was seated facing him.

"You have a man on a litter I see. Has he been wounded?"

"He is dying," answered Karl. "He was bitten by a rabbit."

"A rabbit?" Fakir asked with a raised eyebrow. "I never knew such a bite to be fatal."

"Have you run across anything strange since you entered the Forest of Death?" asked Karl.

"The whole trip has been strange," shrugged Fakir. "I found several packs abandoned a couple of days ago. I thought they might belong to your group. That is why I have been trying to catch up to you."

"We did abandon some," confirmed Karl. "We lost our horses the first night out, and we couldn't carry it all. Why is it that you do not tie your mule to a tree?"

"I don't care much for the trees in this forest," answered Fakir. "There is something not right about them. I have learned over the years to carry a small metal post with me. There are areas where there are no trees. It is a handy thing to have when you need one."

"So I see," replied Karl. "Have you come across any animals?"

"Can't say as I have," Fakir replied thoughtfully. "I have heard some at night. Wolves I think, but they don't normally like coming near a fire. You should have a fire going here. I almost missed this clearing. Who knows how long I would have pushed on into the night in search of you."

"You have had fires the previous nights?" Karl questioned skeptically. "Where did you get the wood?"

"There is lots of fuel for the fire all around us," replied the scholar. "One only has to go and pick it up. I only use what is already dead."

Karl sighed in frustration. "Let's stop playing games, Fakir Aziz. You are not being truthful with me, and I want to know why."

Fakir Aziz glared at Karl. "I take great offense at your accusation. A man is worth nothing more than his word, and to imply that I am not being honest is to insult me. I have gone out of my way to track you down and deliver your lost packs, and all I get from you are suspicions and insults. If you don't care to have me travel with your group, I will separate from you in the morning, but I am too tired this night to continue onward."

"The wood in this forest doesn't burn properly," retorted Karl. "It sends out sparks that are likely to start a forest fire. How is it that you are capable of having a cooking fire, and we are not?"

"I don't burn the wood," replied Fakir. "It is unsuitable for cooking. I burn the dead bark."

Karl's eyes widened in surprise. He glanced at Clint who was standing near enough to hear what was being said. Clint nodded and ordered Max to join him in gathering some bark. Neither Karl nor Fakir spoke as the two Rangers moved into the forest and carried some dead branches into the clearing. They removed the bark and built a small fire in the center of the clearing. Within minutes they had a fire burning. Murmurs of joy spread through the campsite and Karl shook his head in wonder.

"I apologize, Fakir Aziz. It would appear that I have much to learn yet. Have you seen nothing strange in this Forest of Death? Have you seen the eyes that stare into the clearing at night?"

"Eyes?" asked Fakir. "What eyes would those be?"

"Have you had dreams?" pressed the Knight of Alcea. "Have the trees moved during the night?"

"I never dream that I know of," frowned Fakir. "I do not mean to demean those who do dream; I just have never experienced one. As for moving trees, I haven't really paid attention. I suppose they might sway in a stiff breeze, but I haven't encountered much wind since entering the forest. If you will excuse me for a moment, I should give my mule something to eat."

Fakir Aziz rose and tended to his mule. Prince Rigal moved close to Karl and spoke softly.

"I did smell smoke last night. It was faint which would indicate a fair distance from out campsite, but I do believe that he has been following us for a while."

"How could he possibly not see the eyes?" asked Karl. "Are those creatures only interested in us?"

"Look at the fire," instructed the elven prince, "and then look into the woods. Do you think we would have seen the eyes if we had had a fire each night?"

"And he doesn't tie his mule to a tree," nodded Karl, "and I doubt if he hunts rabbits for his meals. I guess it is possible that he has not experienced what we have had to, but I am still skeptical."

"As am I," agreed Prince Rigal, "but his presence here might help calm the others. The sailors are already crowding around the fire, and the brightness in their eyes is not a reflection of the flames. It is a glimmer of hope. Do not be so quick to make the old man separate from us."

"Alright," agreed Karl. "As long as we have a fire going, let's get a warm meal started and some tea put on. How is Lyron?"

"He is unresponsive," the elf replied with his eyes downcast. "He is neither alive nor dead, but rather hangs in that indescribable place between the two planes. I feel terrible about it."

"Why do you feel terrible?" asked the Knight of Alcea. "His illness is not your fault."

"No, it isn't," Prince Rigal replied despondently, "but my feelings regarding him are not the feelings worthy of a prince of elves. While I pray for his complete recovery, part of me wishes that he would die quickly. His illness is like a black cloud hanging over this camp, a constant reminder to everyone of the terrible dangers that exist all around us. Forcing the sailors to carry his litter each day is like reminding them of Alando and the fate that awaits each of them the moment one of us lets his guard down."

"I understand," Karl replied sympathetically, "but it is out of our hands. It is best if we do not dwell on things that we cannot change."

"I will see that a meal is started," the prince sighed as he turned away from the Knight of Alcea.

Karl stood alone for a few minutes, his eyes taking in the activity of the campsite. He sighed wearily as he wondered how a Cordonian hunter could end up in charge of a group of men fighting their way through a magic forest far from his homeland. So absorbed was he in his thinking that the soft voice jolted him.

"Something weighs heavy on your mind," said the philosopher.

Karl turned and gazed into the eyes of Fakir Aziz. Slowly he nodded and let out a small sigh. "There is much to dwell on in the Forest of Death. The men have a fire going thanks to your help. You are welcome to join us for the meal and the night."

"I thank you for your hospitality," smiled Fakir. "I have some provisions that will make a fine meal or two. What is really wrong with the elf on the litter?"

Karl glanced at the stricken elf and returned his gaze to Fakir. "He was bitten by a rabbit. While that may not sound dangerous, apparently it is in the Forest of Death. His body has swelled with poison, and he has been unconscious for over a day. The other elves suspect that he will die during the night, but we will be taking him with us if he is alive in the morning. Creatures that die in this forest have a habit of coming back to life in a most disagreeable fashion. I would advise you to avoid anything and everything that you come across until you are free of the Forest of Death."

"I will keep that in mind," replied Fakir. "Let me get something to make a nice stew. It looks as if your friends could use a hot meal."

The tutor moved to his packs and carried one over to the fire. He chatted amicably with the sailors and got them involved in preparing the stew. Karl watched from a distance, his attention divided between the lighter spirits of the campsite and the dark bleakness of the forest beyond the clearing. He watched the old man interact with the others and saw that the men were slowly recovering their former camaraderie. Even Gerant appeared less distant as everyone sat down to eat. After the meal, Karl announced the watch schedule. Everyone settled in for the night as Prince Rigal and Gerant took the first shift as sentries. An hour into the shift the distant howling began on schedule.

"They sound farther away tonight," commented Prince Rigal.

"For now," replied Gerant, "but the night is young."

"Perhaps," mused the prince, "but maybe the fire is keeping them farther away. I wonder how Fakir Aziz thought to burn only the bark. I would have suspected that the bark was causing the flare ups."

"Maybe he has been here before," speculated Gerant.

"I am sure that he would have said so if he had been here before."

"Would he have?" asked Gerant. "I am not so sure. There is a lot that the old man is not revealing."

"How do you mean?" asked the prince.

"Each of his words is chosen carefully," answered Gerant as he glanced over his shoulder to look at the sleeping shape of the tutor. "He never reveals more than he intends to."

"You are rather suspicious of someone who just brought in supplies and shared them with all of us," remarked Prince Rigal.