Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (37 page)

Outside of the room, Thargen and the wizard Taber, who continued to discuss some of the military tactics, overheard his outburst.

“Not good,” said Thargen softly.

“Agreed,” said the wizard.

“Makes me glad I’m not the King.”

The Queen approached him, taking him in her arms and trying to offer him some comfort, as he strained to deal with the dread that was threatening to overwhelm him. It looked like he was losing it right in front of her.

It was a one-way embrace and didn’t last long. He quickly pushed himself away from her and sat once again. Again he declined to speak; hence, she did.

“Forgive me, My Lord. But I thought the plan was to implement a three-step approach. First, find out where Malance is keeping them. Second, have the wizard Taber shroud a small squad to go in and get them, and, third, make for The Gate.”

“I suppose you think I’ve forgotten that too … ”

“Of course not, My Lord,” she snapped. “Look here. Nobody knows better than I how perilous our situation is. But you need to get hold of yourself. Right now. Sitting there and staring at the walls isn’t doing anyone any good. We need a plan, and it has to come from you.”

He knew she was right, of course. But the strain of it all was making it impossible for him to think clearly at the moment.

“And whatever happened to Blake and Jessica, the husband and wife doctor team, the ones that Pinus brought over from wherever it is that he brought them. Were they killed?”

“What’s that? Oh. Yes, the doctor team. When I left them they were very much alive, but there is no way to know. They were both extraordinarily capable with a sword, I can tell you that. I would be willing to bet that they might have even survived, but then again, who knows …

“Have one of the kitchen girls fix Luke something to eat. He is far too thin. He looks positively ghastly.”

“He has left, Sire.”

“That mule-headed Dwarf,” mused Rolan, and at the same time wished he had a thousand more like him.

“Shouldn’t we at least send a scouting party to try and locate them? It’s not their fault that they have become wrapped up in our whole struggle here. It would seem the least we can do. Besides, if they are good with a sword, we need all the help we can get.”

“Under different circumstances, I would,” he said, “But at this juncture we cannot afford the manpower for a scouting party. I will locate Dorin and let him know where it was that I last saw them and tell him to have his men keep an eye out for them, but I’m afraid that that’s all we can do right now. They know where we are. Hopefully, with the Gnomes withdrawing to Vultura for the coming winter, they will be able to make it here.”

She thought to herself that it was wrong of her husband to not take more definitive steps to try and secure the safety of the husband-and-wife team whose sole purpose was the recovery of their captured daughter, not to mention their own son, but she bit her tongue. With the kingdom falling apart right in front of their eyes, she could understand her husband making the necessary command decisions to try and save their peoples from annihilation at the hands of the invading forces. Such decisions were never easy, and it was clear that her husband was struggling greatly to maintain control.

“Well, we will certainly make every effort to save Erik and the girl, what was her name? When we storm the fortress in Ghasten.”

Rolan looked like he was not listening to her because he wasn’t. He glanced at her.

“Yes, of course,” he said.

He was once again staring at the walls of their prison. His eyes showed that he was haunted by the horrors that confronted them.

“I know one thing,” he said softly.

“What is that, Sire?”

“We were not meant to live in caves. Caves are the last refuge of a dying people. If we are to die, let us die outside as the free peoples we have always been.”

“Better than that,” she finished his thought, “Let us take the battle to Ghasten and at least attempt to kill the ugly leader of that ugly empire that would
force
us to live in caves. Even if we have to sacrifice every Human, Elf, and Dwarf in our remaining armed forces to eliminate him, a thousand years from now history will show that it was worth it.”

He reached for her hand and said one word. “Agreed.”

In his mind he wondered if the Human/Elf/Dwarf peoples would even survive to be a part of history in a thousand years …

Gracie nuzzled Lightning and gave him a small handful of oats from her saddlebag. It was now nearly empty. She patted him affectionately and hugged his proud head close to her chest. He nickered. “I promise we’ll come up with some real food for you, boy,” she whispered. “You must be tired of grazing on these awful plants.”

He nickered again and moved his head up and down as if to express that he understood her perfectly, he just couldn’t put words to it.

Once again they were hidden in a dense thicket of scrabble and brush deep inside Slova, awaiting the return of Forrester Ragamund. Again he had told them he had things he needed to do and to stay put.

“Orie,” whispered Ryan. “When was the last time we looked at the maps?”

Orie knocked himself in the head and whispered back, “You’re right. Let’s get them out.”

A few moments later, the maps were spread out in front of them. “No,” said Orie softly, “get the main one. I want to see the entire-world one.”

Ryan fished around and produced the one Orie wanted. Although it was dim in the copse of woods in which they were concealed, Inam'Ra’s dual moons provided enough light for them to make out the details. They peered at them intently. “Okay,” said Orie, “Here
we
are.” He pointed to the three small dots deep within the land of the Trolls. They faded and intensified rhythmically.

“And look, this must be Stephanie.” Gracie said. “Forrester was right. She must have escaped. How far is it to her, Orie?”

“Hard to say. Days and days, certainly.”

“These must be your mother and father,” said Ryan. “Way up here in the northern forests of Ravenwild.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” said Gracie, “Then who is this?”

She pointed to the dot in the lower part of the map.

All three children looked at each other. All three said the same word at the same time. “Jacqueline.”

“Oh my,” said Gracie. “Do you think it could be her?”

“Who else could it be?” asked Ryan. “Minos Arterios told us that the dots would correlate to us. That each dot would represent one of us, ya know, from Earth.”

“But how did she get way down there?” asked Grace. “She’s as far away from us as Stephanie, and your mother and father, but in the opposite direction.”

“We don’t
know
that it’s her,” said Orie.

“You don’t think she could be
alone,
do you?” asked Ryan.

“No way,” said Gracie. “Hemlock would never do that, would he?”

There was a brief lull in their hushed conversation as all three contemplated the significance of this startling new discovery.

“Well, whoever it is, we’re going there to find out,” said Orie. “And there better not be anyone who stands in our way, because if it
is
Jacqueline, and she’s alone, she’s going to need us more than Mom and Dad, and more than Stephanie.”

“When’s Forrester going to get back?” asked Ryan. “Did he say how long he was going to be?”

“You know him,” said Orie, “He tells us he’s leaving and then leaves.”

“Orie, you’re not considering trying to get there without him,” said Gracie. “The horses are out of food, not to mention us, and while we might have maps, we’re in the middle of an enemy country here. We’ll never make it.”

“I agree,” said Ryan. “We need to wait for Forrester. He’ll come back. I’m positive.”

“I’ll take first watch,” said Orie abruptly. “You two get some sleep.”

This was a tough one, for if Forrester didn’t show soon, they were going to have to take matters into their own hands. Man oh man, this was sure not getting any easier.

As he eased his way along, a conversation that he had with his father years before about hunting deer suddenly flashed into his head. “You will always hear the deer before you see them,” Blake had said. “People who don’t know what they’re doing walk into the woods thinking they’re going to see a deer pop up right in front of them. That’s wrong. You have to be more focused on listening than looking. The thing is, the deer already knows this, and he will almost always hear you before you hear him and slip away from where you are. That’s why those yahoos don’t come home with a deer … ”

He thought of Forrester, and how he had not heard him at all on his last approach until he was right up on them. He was huge, and it made no sense to him that he never heard anything as the Troll drew near them.

He sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. He unconsciously checked his sword to be sure it was loose in its scabbard.

True to his last thought, he turned slightly and started, as Forrester was suddenly standing right beside him.

“How do you
do
that?” he asked.

Forrester didn’t answer him, but moved towards the center of the thicket, saying only, “Follow me.”

Orie did as he was told. When they got there, they found Ryan and Gracie crouched in defensive positions, swords drawn.

“Man, you scared the life out of us,” said Ryan. “We gotta have some sort of signal that lets us know it’s you coming. I thought we were goners.”

“Good thought, young Ryan,” said Forrester. “But for a later time. For now, we have more important matters to consider. Sheathe your weapons and draw in close. Even hushed voices carry on a night as still as this, and our enemies surround us.”

With the three youths gathered into a tight cluster, their faces drawn tight with the mention of hostiles surrounding them, Forrester knelt in front of them. “I have received some grave news with both personal and strategic implications. My oldest and dearest friend is dying, and we must journey to her home so that I can be with her at the end. Her name is Cirrhus Wishfor. She is a powerful sorceress. For many years she instructed me in the use of magic, until my relationship with her was torn asunder by … life’s circumstances. I have not seen her for years. Now, as I have said, there are some Trolls, and a lot more Gnomes, in a rough circle all around us. Ordinarily we would be entirely alone out here, as far away from Ghasten as we are, but the Gnome nation has chosen to send some sort of political envoy to the Slovan capital city. So a small squad of the palace guard has been sent out to meet him and escort him in to assure his safe arrival. They, and an entire company of Gnomes, are all scouring these woods right now, checking for possible threats. Those, of course, would be us. I have reconnoitered their positions, however, and I believe we can slip through them. We will have to leave the horses and make our way on foot. We will travel light, taking only what we absolutely need. We must travel in a cloak of silence, yet we must travel swiftly because we need to make it into the Vargus Foothills by sunup, or we will surely be discovered. And we cannot, of course, have that happen.”

“What will happen to the horses?” asked Gracie.

“Not to worry, young Gracie,” said Forrester, “They will meet up with us once we have made it to the Vargus Foothills. In fact, it will be essential that they do, for you three will need to have mounts at that point in order to travel quickly enough to get us there in time.”

“In time for what?” asked Ryan.

“Never mind that, Ryan,” said Orie. “We too have news.”

Forrester turned to Orie.

“News?” he asked, his voice low, rumbling.

“Yes,” said Orie. “We looked at the maps, and there’s a new dot on them that we think is my little sister, Jacqueline.” He undid the sheaf of maps that Ryan and Gracie had carefully tied back up as part of their preparations for settling in. He handed the one he wanted to Forrester.

“Here,” he said. “In this place called the Agden Woods.”

Forrester studied it. “This is not good news.”

“What do you mean?” asked Orie. “Can we be sure that this dot is Jacqueline?”

“Almost certainly,” said Forrester. “But you need to know this: The world on which we now stand carries the name of Inam'Ra. The three nation states that make it up are Ravenwild, Vultura, and Slova. But there are also two vast tracts of land that are part of the whole, the Northland, which has never carried another name, and the Agden Forest to the south. Both are ‘spelled’.”