Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (21 page)

It was nearing midday when he heard the sound of voices ahead. He stopped his horse and listened. At first it was just whispers, and he had to fight off the feeling that he was hearing ghosts. Slowly the sounds grew. He couldn’t hear footsteps but he could hear people talking. It was the strange language of the Norsik. Lorik dismounted and moved slowly toward the east, hoping to skirt around the band of raiders and perhaps approach them from behind, but he soon found that there was more than one band of raiders. It was a large group of Norsik, more than any one tribe or clan. They were moving en masse and heading south through the forest.

Lorik wanted to climb a tree and get a better view of the raiders, but there was no way to scale the massive trees and no place to hide his horse. He listened as long as he dared, then turned south. He led his horse as quickly as he could through the forest, waiting until he couldn’t hear the voices behind him anymore. Then he mounted and rode hard for Fort Utlig. He told himself he was hurrying to bring news back to the settlements along the Wilderlands, but he knew that more than anything he just wanted to get out of the gloomy forest.

Night overtook him once again, but this time, after starting a small fire and feeding his horse the carrots and onions in his saddlebags, Lorik wrapped bark around the butt of his battle axe and used the long-handled weapon like a torch so that he could keep traveling. It was well past midnight when he broke clear of the Wilderlands, and when the sky opened up and he could once again see the stars, he breathed a sigh of relief and rode hard toward the fort.

“You saw them?” Constable Yorn asked. “You’re sure it was a Norsik raiding party?”

“Who else would it be?” Vera asked angrily.

They were in the large room that had once been the home to the ranking military officer of Fort Utlig and was now the personal quarters of Constable Yorn. The sun had not yet made an appearance, but the sky was growing lighter in the east. Lorik stood looking out the large windows that faced the Wilderlands. He felt a gnawing fear in his stomach. The Norsik were coming, and there were far too many to be stopped by his small band of volunteers.

“It could have been anyone,” Constable Yorn snapped. “People see strange things in the Wilderlands. It could have been just his imagination.”

“No,” Lorik said.

“We have to prepare for the worst,” Stone said quietly.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Yorn said. “We can survive in this fort all winter if we need to.”

“I’m not talking about the people in this fort,” Stone said.

“There are people all over Ortis who will be overrun,” Vera said. “We have to send out riders to warn them.”

“No, we need every man to hold this position,” Yorn argued.

“The Norsik won’t stay and lay siege to this fort,” Lorik said. “We’ve talked about this before. They’ll spread out through the countryside to raid every homestead and village they find. They’ll take anything of value, including slaves.”

“So what can we do about that?” Yorn asked. “Our duty is to stay here, to hold this fort at all costs. If we leave the fort we’ll never get rid of the Norsik. They’ll dig in and take over.”

“That’s true,” Lorik said. “We do need to hold the fort. But it isn’t the only thing we have to do.”

“What are you suggesting?” Vera asked.

“Three things,” Lorik said. “We have to send riders to warn the villages and settlements, but we also need to slow down the Norsik if that’s possible. And we have to hold this fort.”

“If we hit the Norsik when they’re out of the Wilderlands, even on horseback, are we really going to be more than a mild annoyance?” Stone asked.

“No, we won’t be,” Lorik said. “I think our best chance is to hit them while they’re still in the forest.”

“You mean go back into the Wilderlands?” Vera asked.

“Yes,” Lorik said. “I’ll take six men with me. Stone, you and the others warn the settlements. Vera, take as many of the women and children from here as you can and head south. Go straight to Timmons Gate and warn them, but then you’ve got to keep moving. Head for Ort City.”

“Lorik, it would take weeks to get there, even on horseback,” Vera argued.

“I don’t think the Norsik will move too far south, but we can’t be sure.”

“I’ve never even heard of Norsik raiding parties banding together,” Yorn said skeptically. “Are you sure there’s more than a couple dozen?”

“I think there are hundreds,” Lorik said. “I don’t know for sure because I couldn’t see them.”

“If you couldn’t see them, how do you even know it was the Norsik?”

“I heard them,” Lorik said.

“That’s good enough for me,” Stone said. “I’ll ride east as far as Farns Cove, then I’ll turn south and catch up with Vera.”

“I think going to Ort City is too far,” Vera said.

“It’s the only city of size we can count on,” Lorik said. “Splitting up isn’t the best idea, but if we get overrun, we need a place we can all find.”

“All right, I understand,” Vera said. “I’ll keep moving south until Stone catches up with us.”

“We have a lot to do and very little time,” Lorik said. “You need to get the women moving as soon as possible. We don’t have enough wagons for everyone to ride, so you’ll be moving slower than the Norsik. Don’t waste time. Push hard.”

“I will,” Vera said.

“All right, let’s get busy.”

Stone and Vera hurried from the room, but Lorik and Yorn stayed.

“I need to know that when my men return you’ll let them back in the fort,” Lorik said quietly, turning away from the window for the first time. “They’ll be killed if you don’t.”

“I can’t risk the safety of this fort,” Yorn said.

“I’m not asking you to. I just need to know that if I don’t make it back, that my men won’t be left outside, even if the Norsik aren’t far behind them.”

“I’m not a coward,” Yorn hissed.

“I never said you were,” Lorik said. “But by the gods, if you double-cross me this time I’ll split your head like a ripe melon. Do you understand me?”

Yorn started to argue, but the look in Lorik’s eyes made him hesitate. He nodded and Lorik left the room.

Down in the yard Vera and the other women were making quick work of getting their belongings packed up. Most of the women had come carrying few possessions, and so there wasn’t much for them to gather up. The children were loaded into the wagon and Lorik made sure the draft horses were hitched correctly. Vera had ridden with Lorik enough times to feel confident handling the team.

“Keep moving south,” Lorik told her. “You can always come back later, but if you’re caught by the Norsik...” he let the awful thought trail off.

“We won’t be,” Vera said. “Just take care of yourself. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” Lorik said.

She kissed his cheek and squeezed him hard for a moment, then she climbed up into the wagon. Stone was coming out of the stables, leading a horse and followed by several other men.

“You have your knife?” Stone asked Vera.

She nodded.

“Keep moving. I’ll catch up to you no later than the fourth day,” he promised.

“You be careful, don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t,” he said.

She leaned over, and they kissed passionately for a moment. Lorik stood back watching, his heart aching for his friends. He felt guilty that they were even here. He once again felt like a fool for having come north. He had expected to find more volunteers prepared to hold the border against the Norsik, but in the end he had only the few volunteers he had brought north from Hassell Point.

“Stay safe, my friends,” he told them, once their kiss had ended.

“And you,” Stone said.

“I love you both,” Vera said.

Then she snapped the reins and the wagon lumbered off. Lorik and Stone stood back waiting while the women marched past. They looked worried but resolute. Then Lorik turned and addressed the men who were riding out to relay word of the Norsik invasion.

“Don’t argue with people. Just tell them what’s coming and suggest that they see to their women and elderly,” he told them. “Those of you riding west, keep a close watch on the Wilderlands. If my guess is right, the Norsik are spreading out. They may hit the villages sooner than you think. Don’t engage them if you can help it. Keep moving and then turn south. Stay alive, you understand?”

The men nodded.

“And take care of your horses. They could be the difference between life or death.”

Stone and Lorik shook hands, then the younger man climbed into the saddle and set out. Lorik saw to his weapons. He wasn’t carrying the battle axe; instead he found a bow and a quiver of arrows, which he slung over his shoulder. He made sure every man had a spear and a torch. The six men who were going with him into the Wilderlands looked both grim and frightened at the same time. Lorik wasn’t sure if they were afraid of the Norsik or the Wilderlands, but it didn’t matter.

“Have any of you been in the Wilderlands before?” he asked them.

They shook their heads nervously.

“It can be a bit spooky, but don’t let your nerves get the best of you. We’re going in and hitting the Norsik, then pulling back. We need to stay together and we need to be ready to move at a moment’s notice, but don’t get jumpy. This is very important. We need to slow these bastards down and give our friends a chance to move south. Do you understand?”

Most of the men nodded, but one spoke up.

“Do you really think seven of us can do much of anything?” he asked.

“Seven men wouldn’t have a prayer in most circumstances,” Lorik said. “But the Wilderlands will give us an advantage. We’re going to scare the Norsik, not fight them. We want to frighten them and make them slow down.”

“But if they get scared, won’t they want to hurry out of the Wilderlands?”

“Sure, but if what is scaring them is in front of them, they won’t rush forward,” Lorik explained. “It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s the best chance we have of slowing them down.”

Lorik led his men out of the fort. They rode straight to the Wilderlands, and Lorik immediately stopped and began stripping bark off of the trees.

“Wrap yourself up in this bark,” Lorik said. “Work it into your clothes as best you can. It will make us harder to see.”

The men followed his example. They even wrapped some of the bark around their horses’ necks and over their withers and rumps. Then they pushed on. The group was silent, and even seven horses moving through the forest were eerily quiet. They rode for hours without stopping. A few men ate as they rode, gnawing the tough dried strips of meat from their saddlebags, but most had lost their appetite.

As evening approached the mist rose up again just as Lorik began to hear the sounds of a large force not far away. He dismounted and signaled for the others to do the same. He assigned one man to stay with the horses while Lorik and the others moved slowly forward.

“All right,” Lorik said. “I want you to spread out in a long line. In a few minutes I’m going to begin making noises. Once you hear me, you stop and start making noises, too. Just be spooky.”

“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked one of the volunteers.

“No, but I don’t have a better idea, do you?”

The men all shook their heads, and Lorik signaled for them to move out. The volunteers crept along, flitting from tree to tree. The same feelings of fear and desperation began to rise up in Lorik again. He felt so small among the towering redwoods and the sounds of the approaching army were growing louder. Finally, when Lorik felt he couldn’t wait any longer, he moaned. It was a sound that started quietly and then rose up in volume. He could tell halfway through his moan that the raiders not far away had grown silent. Just as he was finishing, another haunted sound rose up to his right. Chills broke out on Lorik’s forearms, despite the fact that he knew it was one of his own men making the noise.

Then another eerie sound came, and another after that. Then a scream, which Lorik realized was a stroke of genius. He heard the raiders talking in loud but fearful voices. They were actually moving back, away from Lorik’s position. He smiled a grim smile. Even though he felt small and scared, it still felt good to know that his plan was working.

The volunteers continued to moan and groan, their voices rising along with the mist. The sounds of the raiders fell away, and soon Lorik had his men moving west. They traveled until just before sunset. The gloom faded to black in what seemed like an instant. Lorik lit his torch and kept his volunteers moving. They used the same tactics whenever they came close to the raiders. It was obvious the Norsik were still traveling in tribal groups, not as one organized, coherent unit. The night stretched on and on, but Lorik pushed his men. They burned one torch after another, and at dawn they turned back to the east. They were still half a day from Fort Utlig but they had accomplished their mission: they had delayed the attack long enough to give the others time to escape.

“Are we going back?” one of the volunteers asked as they made their way back to their horses.

“Yes,” Lorik said. “There’s little more we can do here.”

They had just mounted up and were starting to move south when a cry rose up behind them. This time it wasn’t a moan or scream of pain, but a battle cry. Lorik turned to see a group of raiders running toward them.

“About face!” he shouted. “Spears at the ready!”

The volunteers fought their horses for control and drew the spears they had been training with for days. They were outnumbered by the band of Norsik raiders, but they had certain advantages. Lorik planned to do as much damage as he could before they used their horses to outrun the Norsik raiders.

While the others readied their spears Lorik drew an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder. He nocked the arrow, keeping his hands as steady as possible, then drew the arrow back, sighting down the long wooden shaft. He aimed for the lead raider, the fastest man in the group, and let the arrow fly. He knew right away that his aim was off a little, as the arrow seemed to dip down as soon as it left his hands. The horses were shuffling nervously and that made hitting his target that much harder, but his aim wasn’t completely off. The arrow hit the raider in the leg, and Lorik saw the man plunge face-first in the soft earth. His companions leapt over him and continued charging forward.

Lorik drew another arrow and let it fly. This time he aimed for the group, not caring whom he hit, just wanting to get off another shot before he needed to ready his spear. The second arrow jumped off the string and hit one of the raiders straight in the chest. This time the falling man tripped several of his companions, and Lorik slung the bow over his shoulder.

“Hit and run,” he told his men. “There could be hundreds more behind this group. Watch out for the tree roots, too. Don’t lose your horse.”

The men all nodded as Lorik drew his spear. They all held their spears out like lances and kicked their horses forward. There was enough room between the giant trees for the seven men to ride side by side toward the attacking raiders. The horses didn’t have enough room to reach full speed, but the massive hooves and leveled spears were enough to divide the raiders. Half dodged one direction, ducking behind the trees. The other half went the other direction, but three hesitated a second too long. They were impaled on the spears of Lorik’s volunteers and then trampled under the horses’ hooves.

Lorik didn’t halt the horses to turn around. Stopping would make them vulnerable, and their speed was their greatest asset. Lorik guided his horse in a wide loop, giving himself plenty of distance from the raiders before turning south again.