The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (15 page)

As the two Mountain Children stilled their heartbeats and slowed their breathing, they also redirected energy to their minds.  The hunter had not yet caught their scent, but it was a simple matter of time for that to happen.  The pair set about putting to use their special talents to avoid a confrontation.  Not that they were helpless should they be forced to fight, but they did not want to risk an injury this far from their home.

So now they concentrated on combining and focusing their abilities on the predator.  He (it was obviously male) was at least six times larger than they.  He took a few steps in their direction, sampled the air again and then moved closer still.

With their minds joined, the decision to act was simultaneous.  A burst of pure mental energy was projected straight into the mind of the hulking creature before them.  It looked as if something had crept up on the animal from behind and struck it with a war hammer.  He rose up on hind legs and fell completely over on his back. 

The beast recovered quickly and leapt back onto his feet, squealing with rage.  His scarred and matted head swung back and forth as the tusks sought a target to rend and tear.  Then he stopped.  The only thing moving on him was his chest as it swelled and constricted with each breath.  His weak eyes searched for the source of the attack.  Once again he sniffed the air, using his strongest sense to seek out his attacker.

Mate was signaling his intention to deliver another shock to the brutish animal, but Tinker calmed him and gathered his strength onto herself for another ploy.  Instead of directing another burst of physical pain, this time she sought his nerve centers and quickly located those which dealt with his sense of smell.  Mate sent her a wave of understanding just before she fed the nerves of the beast the scent of blood.

The predator sniffed over and over exploring every direction with his nose.  Finally he was able to identify the direction from which he thought the enticing aroma was emanating.  Emitting an ear splitting squeal, the monster went crashing through the brush.  He would chase the false scent for several leagues before the implanted suggestion would weaken and fade away.  By that time, Tinker and Mate would be well out of danger.  They started off again following the path that the Awareness had given them.

It was their tenth day of travel.  They had just decided to seek out a nest for the night when the hunter had appeared.  Now they were safely beyond the danger he posed and were once again feeling the pull of fatigue.  They searched the terrain as they continued in their chosen direction.  A small hole or even a hollowed log would serve them well enough.  Then, just before the light faded away, they saw the welcome silhouettes of an entire grove of sleep trees.

Mate started to climb the first one they came to, but Tinker emitted a caution emotion.  Using just her mind this time, she probed the interior of the bulb-shaped tree’s limbs and leaves.  Sleep trees were wonderful plants.  In this fading light, they had a shape very much like a pineapple on a stick with the trunk being the stick and the limbs and leaves being the pineapple.  The leaves of the trees formed a hollow interior in which animals as large as humans could take refuge for the night.  As far as Tinker was aware, only humans and her kind used the trees for that purpose, but there was always the chance that another predator or one of the fearsome Grey Ones had taken refuge within one. 

Tinker searched the hollow bulb for any sign of a living being.  Finding none, she stood back while Mate scampered up the trunk and dug his way in through the tough, brittle covering of dried exterior leaves.  Tinker could have found an easier way inside, but she had many tasks on this trek.  One of those was building Mate’s confidence.  By standing aside and allowing him to take the lead she was very subtly doing this.  He finished his inspection of the tree’s interior and emitted a chirp.  She quickly climbed up and went inside using the pathway he’d dug.

The most miraculous thing about a sleep tree was concealed within its interior.  The older, dried leaves that made up the exterior were unremarkable, but inside the hollow bulb of the plant were thousands of new leaves which gently glowed in darkness.  The result was a cheerful illumination that kept the interior of the trees from being pitch black.  The strength of the illumination was such that the humans harvested them and used them to light their residences.  The leaves were placed in glass balls and changed regularly to ensure an adequate source of light.  Here, inside their nest for the night, Tinker waited as Mate selected a spot on which to lie down.  When he made his choice she crossed over the spongy leaves that made up the soft and comfortable bottom of the plant interior and snuggled up closely to him.  He snuggled closer still, and his long, fluffy tail wrapped itself protectively around her.  He began sleep-purring first, but she was not far behind.

The next morning Tinker awoke and quietly stretched, careful to let Mate get as much rest as possible.  Travel was not overly difficult for them.  They were used to climbing rocks all day and were raised in an altitude that had thinner air than was available down this far, but they were using different muscles in their trip.  It was not as difficult as climbing, but Tinker found her back and neck stiff from the unusual exercise.

She snuck over to the place where both had entered the tree the night before.  It was easy work to wiggle back through until her head poked out into sunlight.  She sniffed the sweet air and enjoyed the scents of trees and grass and the different animals that had passed by.  Overhead she heard the shrieks of flying raptors and the tweets of smaller birds.  She listened for a spell and even entertained herself by mimicking their songs.  Some sang back to her, and it filled her with happiness.  She’d missed the lowlands and these sights and sounds.

She heard Mate rustling his way through the leaf covering so she pulled herself entirely out and scratched her way down the trunk.  She took a second for another delicious stretch, then looked up to see Mate descending.  She took note of the thick muscles in his legs and his back.

Once they were both on the ground, they rose onto their rear legs and embraced.  It was the way that Mountain Children started every morning.  Every passing resident of the village received an embrace from the smallest of the pups to the oldest of the elders.  An unusual characteristic of their kind was the ability to walk on two legs when such an act was desired.  They customarily used this ability for short distances and fell back to all fours when a longer trek was required.

Once done with their morning habits, the two started off again.  Mate was almost quivering with excitement.  His task was finally before him.  The unfamiliar surroundings of the lowlands thrilled him.  He’d always desired to travel and see things other than the mountains of his home, but he’d never dared strike out on his own for fear that the Awareness would not task him if he wasn’t near his home.  Now here he was.  He’d made Tinker tell him many times of her task and the huge battles that she’d seen.  The battles did not entice him, but they were an interesting element of the stories.  It hurt his heart when she would tell of her battle with the Silver and the horrible wounds she’d suffered.  She had almost died from them and still wore the scars on her neck and arm.

Mate wondered what his task would entail.  Battles?  Strange places?  He was so happy that he sang to the trees and rocks around them.  Tinker listened for a while, then she joined in, and the two traveled that way for many leagues.

***

Taggart awoke and bathed.  He considered shaving, but after looking into the small polished mirror, he decided he liked the beard.  It more clearly marked his difference from the Olvionis and other humans here in that none of them had blonde hair.  Or blue eyes for that matter but that was not why he liked it.  He would never admit it to another soul, but the truth of the matter was that he thought it made him look like a Viking.  Before his supernatural transportations to Olvion, Taggart and his brothers had sent in a DNA sample to an online genealogy site and discovered they were descended from people of the area that had been populated by Vikings.  For some reason, they’d always been extremely proud of that fact.  His two older siblings had gone so far as to have the word “Viking” tattooed on their arms.  So anything that made him look even more like a Viking was attractive to him.

Meena had sent a messenger to awaken him early so he would have time to take breakfast with her and Toria.  Taggart did not look forward to seeing the young woman again.  He knew she would try to make him feel guilty for leaving her in the city.  What else could he do?  He didn’t want to take her into a war situation, he’d already seen far too many friends die.  He absolutely would not endanger her like that.  He also wondered what would happen to her.  What if her cousin did not return?  Would he need to leave Dwan right after finding her again in order to return to Olvion and escort Toria back to her farm?

No.  Whatever happened, he decided he would never again leave the woman he loved.  He might have to persuade her to take the trip with him, but he would not leave her behind.

Leaving the little apartment that he and Dwan had shared while he was first in Olvion, Taggart walked happily through the familiar hallways and arches.  It was still early, and the castle staff was still waking up.  His footsteps echoed as he clomped up stairways and along richly decorated walls.  The castle of Olvion was not like the ones that appeared in hundreds of Earth movies about medieval times.  It was more like a combination of that architectural influence combined with more modern styling. 

As he walked along, Taggart wondered again how much different the castle and everything else on this world would be if the planet were more like his Earth.  The discovery and exploitation of fossil fuels and explosives had completely reshaped his old world.  It was an interesting and intriguing fact that no such elements had been found here.  There was no oil that Taggart was aware of.  He had heard tales of farmers hitting patches of sticky black substances while developing their fields.  These discoveries were few, and the farmers involved had sectioned those areas off from their fertile producing fields.  Taggart had decided that it was entirely possible, even probable that such elements must exist here, only in much smaller quantities.  The two worlds were far too similar to believe otherwise.

What, he wondered, could he change for the better if he were to search out and locate oil fields or pockets of natural gas?  Would any such changes actually be better for this world?  He truly did not know.

Arriving at the Queen’s reception chamber, he entered as a new set of sentries opened the doors for him.  Meena was at a round table in the middle of the room.  The walls were a bright yellow, and blue curtains hung from the many windows.  It all had a cheery effect.  Meena herself was dressed in a plain uniform, which was no different than any warrior in the field except that her collar bore a silver pin in the shape of a crown. 

The queen was talking with two other warriors, and was holding a piece of toasted bread in one hand as she studied a map or some other type of document.  There were two stewards waiting quietly on the side of the room.

Meena looked up as the doors opened and smiled at her friend.  Taggart walked up, and she stood briefly while he kissed her cheek, and she responded in kind.  The two warriors at the table did not find this odd.  Displays of affection were not hidden among friends, unless they were at a formal function and one outranked the other.

“I apologize for the early hour, but there is much to do and much for you to catch up on before you leave,” she said.  “We received another set of messengers before daybreak,” she indicated the two warriors at the table.  Meena seemed to notice that they were standing.  “Sit, sit,” she ordered, pointing to a pair of chairs.  “You must be exhausted.  And famished.”  She beckoned to the stewards.  “Can you please bring our brave couriers something to eat?  Oh, and something for my dear friend here as well?” 

The stewards nodded and headed for the kitchen.

Taggart sat, as did the two messengers.  They wore the colors of Aspell albeit somewhat dusty.  He nodded to them.  “Thank you for risking your lives,” he said.  “I hope your kingdom is not running short on avenues in which to sneak away.  I am Tag-Gar, by the way”

Both couriers almost laughed and started to stand for introductions, but Meena beckoned them to stay put.  The oldest one was in his mid-thirties, the youngest barely eighteen or nineteen.  The oldest one spoke for them.  “Yes, you hardly need to be introduced.  It would be difficult, indeed, to confuse you with another.  I am Tau and this is my apprentice, Dalan.  As to your question regarding exits from the stronghold; we really have none.  We are blessed by the fact that the invading force is not at all disciplined.  They rely wholly upon a simple surrounding of the redoubt by groups of men.  We have been able to lower runners on ropes and slip through their lines.”

Taggart nodded as the man talked, but he was not listening as much as he was thinking.  The fact that the Aspell stronghold had never developed clandestine routes out of their walls was unfortunate.  It was another indication of just how much the three Coastal Kingdoms had depended upon Olvion for their defense.  He thought back on the numerous night raids in which he and a handful of brave young warriors had visited death and destruction upon the Grey Ones that were laying siege to their city.  Meena’s voice pulled him from his musings.

“Tau has brought word that a small number of ships has left the Aspell shore, but more are arriving.  I'm afraid that the early estimates of the enemy’s numbers have been revised upward.  We now expect them to have perhaps double what we had been told of before.”