Ruby Guardian (21 page)

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Authors: Thomas M. Reid

BOOK: Ruby Guardian
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Near the top, Vambran began to move out along the limbs of the shadowtop, navigating the narrow branch with ease, thanks to his magical ability. As he neared the end of the branch and felt it begin to sag dangerously low, he transferred his weight to another branch, which happened to protrude from a neighboring tree. Then he scurried across the expanse of that tree’s cover and moved on to the next tree.

Vambran continued to maneuver through the forest that way, crossing from tree to tree by means of the climbing spell, never leaving a trail upon the ground. After he had progressed quite a distance and was certain the magic would fade soon, he hurried down. Sure enough, when he was perhaps ten feet

from the ground, he felt the spell dissipate, and he half jumped and half fell the rest of the way to the forest floor.

Better not wait so long next time, he thought, dusting himself off. Then he set off in the general direction he had sent his companions, expecting to catch up to them after a little while. Part of his plan also took into account the possibility of his little trick failing to mislead the trackers.

If they don’t fall for it, I want them to catch up to me, first, he thought. I can give the others a fair chance to escape by myself.

But his fears did not come to that, and after perhaps an hour of walking, Vambran began to detect motion through the trees ahead. Picking up his pace, the lieutenant issued his telltale bird call. Soon enough, the whistled reply echoed back. Vambran caught up to the rest of the group a short time later.

“Well, we’ll see how much we managed to delay them,” he said as the six of them settled down to rest for a few moments. “I doubt it will hold them up for long, but every few minutes of time we bought is worth it.”

“We tried to tread lightly, sir,” Horial said as he began to pass around some hunks of hard bread and some slices of thick, dried meat. “Don’t know how good of a job we did, though. We’re soldiers, not thieves.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vambran replied, noticing the ache in his legs for the first time all night. “If we can stay ahead of them, that’s good enough.” He bit into a slice of meat and tore the mouthful free. His stomach rumbled with appreciation, and Vambran realized he hadn’t eaten since before noon that day, when they had all still been aboard Lady’s Favor. That seemed like such a very long time ago.

Kovrim, where are you? the lieutenant wondered. What happened to everyone?

In the darkness, he could more than see the rest of the group busily consuming the small repast that Horial had doled out. No one said anything, but Vambran could sense the courage and determination from each of them. He could judge it by the carriage of each soldier’s silhouette, hear it in the way they ate their food. They were professionals, and he was proud of the way they were handling the bizarre and unnerving circumstances of the day.

“Any idea where we’re headed?” Burtis asked between bites.

Vambran shook his head then realized the other soldiers most likely could not see his gesture. “None at all,” he admitted, “though I know that Reth lies ahead of us. We keep walking the way we’re going right now, we’ll wind up hitting either the coast or the road that runs south out of Reth and circles around the Nunwood back toward Hlath. One way or the other, we’ll wind up in the city.”

“Assuming we can get there before our pursuit catches up,” Filana said, her mouth full of bread.

“Well, if you’re so worried about that,” Vambran replied, rising, “then break time is over. Let’s get marching, soldier.”

Filana groaned but did not question her superior. As a team, the six gathered up everything they had and set out again.

As they walked, Vambran took the time to listen to the surroundings. Other than the snakes, they had not been visited by any predators, which surprised him.

Don’t go looking for more trouble, soldier, he told himself. Be glad the denizens have left you alone.

Vambran recalled then some of the stories of the Nunwood, of how most of the more dangerous

creatures had been run off or slain. The forest had been heavily logged for many centuries before the druids of the Emerald Enclave had stepped in and begun making trouble for the folk who lived along its edge. Lumber processing had slowed down considerably once the druids began pushing everyone around, but it had not died off completely. Regardless, both the logging operations—or rather the mercenaries hired by the loggers—and the druids had managed to make the Nunwood a much safer place than other forests in the region.

Of course, that was a relative thing, Vambran realized. Even a safe forest still remained shrouded in mystery and harbored danger. Though the snakes had been unfortunate, he still considered the group lucky to that point not to have encountered more dangerous creatures during their trek.

Vambran’s musings were interrupted by the appearance of a glow from ahead. The others saw the emanations about the same time he did, and the whole group drew to a halt. Though they were still too far removed to be certain, to Vambran’s eyes, the glow seemed to be the remnants of some dying fires, barely visible through the trees ahead of them. Almost as one, the five other mercenaries crouched down and huddled together, waiting to see what their leader ordered.

Vambran leaned in and whispered, “stay here while I move ahead to see what’s what. Don’t make any sounds because whoever this is might have sentries posted in this direction.”

Though he could not see the other mercenaries’ responses, he could sense that they understood. Quietly as he could, Vambran rose to his feet and began to creep forward, noting a few conspicuous trees that he could use to navigate back in that direction once he was finished scouting. As he drew closer to the glow,

he became more and more certain that it was from multiple campfires, and they were all positioned in a clearing ahead. The lieutenant stopped at one point and peered around, searching for telltale signs that guards stood watch there in the edge of the woods, but he did not see anything, so he began to move forward again.

When Vambran reached the underbrush that marked the edge of the clearing, he saw that it was a military camp. Tents were clustered in orderly groups around the fires, and there were indeed sentries positioned around the perimeter of the encampment, but none of them was stationed very close to the edge of the woods. The lieutenant did notice, however, that several of the guards were standing watch over an old barn near where Vambran crouched. He could see that a fresh door had been built into the side of the barn, and a log was used to bar it shut. The mercenary officer had a pretty good idea that prisoners were inside. He wondered if they were Sapphire Crescents.

Knowing he was risking capture, but burning with the need to know, Vambran circled around until he could approach the barn from the back side and, he hoped, unnoticed. He crept very carefully out of the trees and right up to the wall, which was made only of rough logs, so there were plenty of gaps. He peered inside, but the glow of the firelight was not enough to see by.

Taking a deep breath, Vambran gave a very soft whistle, the birdcall signal he was so fond of using. A form stirred very near where he crouched and mumbled something soft. Vambran whistled again, still keeping the sound very light and soft.

“What the—?” the figure grunted, sitting upright. “Who’s there?” the man mumbled, trying to whisper. “Lieutenant Vambran. What’s your name?”

“By Waukeen, Lieutenant, it’s sure good to hear your voice!” It was Hort “Old Bloagy” Bloagermun, and he was speaking too loudly.

“Shh!” Vambran warned in a whisper, glancing around to see if the sentries had heard anything. “Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry, sir,” Hort whispered back, obviously fully awake by then. “What’s going on?”

“A few Crescents and I are in the woods, just beyond the camp here. How’d you wind up in there?”

Hort told Vambran the tale of his capture, along with the others. He did a quick listing of the men included, and when he named off Kovrim, Vambran felt his shoulders sag in profound relief.

“That’s great news, soldier,” he whispered. “We’re going to figure out a way to get you out of there, but sit tight. Don’t even wake the rest of the men up, yet. Do you understand?”

“Aye, sir,” Hort replied.

“I’ll be back soon,” Vambran said then turned and crept away. Elation made the man want to move quickly, but he dared not let it get the best of him, so he very carefully backtracked to the point where he had left his companions.

“I found more Crescents,” he began, but before he could finish, he realized that the other five were not alone. Numerous figures rose up from behind trees or bushes, surrounding Vambran and his companions. Instinctively, Vambran reached for his sword.

“Don’t,” came a soft voice from behind him, and a curved blade was laid across his neck at an angle. “You won’t make it.”

Vambran froze. At first, he thought the trackers had caught up to them, but as he turned slowly to get a better look, he realized that all of the newcomers were covered in plants and branches. The blade at his throat was a scimitar.

Druids!

Before Vambran could reveal his observation,

however, a large shout rose up from the camp.

“It’s begun,” the figure still holding the scimitar

against the lieutenant said. “We must hurry.”

“What’s begun?” Vambran demanded.

“Your doom,” the druid replied.

Something slammed hard against the back of Vambran’s head, and the world turned upside down before fading away.

0

CHAPTER II

Kovrim was startled awake by sudden noise, but for a moment, he could not remember where he was. Then the

foggy remnants of sleep began to clear, and the mercenary recalled how he’d come to be locked inside a very old barn with several other soldiers. As he sat up and peered around, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the priest could hear shouting and the beginnings of some sort of scuffle just beyond the walls of the barn, and he realized that the fighting was what had awakened him.

“What’s going on?” Kovrim asked of no one in particular, standing and stretching as he observed many of the rest of the dozen Crescents standing or kneeling, peering through gaps in the log wall.

“Lieutenant Matrell is out there,” Hort Bloagermun said, turning toward Kovrim. “He said he and some other Crescents were in the forest, and they were going to try to free us!”

“What?” Kovrim said, not sure he had heard correctly. “Vambran’s here?”

“Aye, sir,” Old Bloagy replied, still pressing one eye to the wall. “He crept up to the wall here and spoke with me just a few moments ago.”

Kovrim realized his knees were shaking in relief. Vambran was alive! He was mounting a rescue attempt!

But then, Kovrim began to frown, for he could see no way for such a plan to succeed. The old mercenary knew how many soldiers had been with the company aboard the ship, and how many Vambran was likely to have remaining under his command. It was a pitiful number to take up against the entire army gathered in the clearing where he and the other Crescents were being held. It was foolish to try a head-on assault, and Vambran would know that, too. Kovrim’s nephew was no fool.

“No, something else is happening,” Kovrim announced, moving to the wall to get a look. “Vambran may be out there, but this is not his work. He wouldn’t try to attack the entire silver raven contingent this way. They must have been spotted out in the woods.”

“Those aren’t Crescents out there,” another soldier reported from the opposite wall. “Someone else is attacking the camp.”

Kovrim switched positions to get a better look. In the dim light of the embers of the many fires, he could see very little, but the motion all around the clearing was continuous, and he could occasionally make out a figure leaping up from the shadows, pouncing on a soldier of the silver raven group. The sound of the

fighting grew louder as more of the attacking force poured into the camp.

Nearby, the guards standing watch at the door to the barn cried out, and Kovrim raced over to see what had become of them. Three silhouettes were arrayed against the pair of mercenaries, all of them dressed in crude, natural clothing and swinging curved blades. One of the figures was an elf.

“Druids,” Kovrim said, understanding at last. “They’re attacking the logging operation.”

“Maybe they’ll free us,” another soldier said. “We should shout to let them know we’re in here!”

Kovrim started to protest such a notion, figuring the druids were well aware of the Crescents’ predicament and unlikely to do much about it. The veteran soldier had campaigned against the druids during his years of service, and he knew that the woodland people did not distinguish between rival bands of mercenaries, and the Sapphire Crescents certainly appeared to be a rival band. To them, every soldier was an enemy of the trees, and it was doubtful those attacking the camp that night would have any concern for the plight of the dozen prisoners inside the barn. If they escaped, the woodland folk might even turn on them, as well.

Kovrim was forming up a plan to get the men out himself, but it would require good timing. “Get ready to flee when the right moment comes,” he ordered, causing a stir all around him as he moved toward the door. “You’ll know when that is,” he promised them.

The three druids overwhelmed the pair of guards in front of the barn, but they did not turn their attention to the prisoners, as Kovrim had suspected. Instead, they melted into the shadows again, leaving the men inside to grumble and wonder aloud why they had been ignored.

The fighting raged on, with shouting, horses whinnying in alarm, and the ring of steel on steel everywhere. Kovrim began to think that the druids would win the contest, for it seemed to him as he watched that there were more and more of them and fewer of the silver ravens. That’s when he decided it was time to act.

Uttering a simple phrase, he instantly found himself on the opposite side of the door, standing next to the bodies of the downed guards. The priest grabbed the log that had been used to bar the door and shoved it aside, prepared to open the portal and lead the Crescents into the woods beyond the camp.

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