The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (19 page)

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Authors: C. Craig Coleman

BOOK: The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3)
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* * *

“This seems a prosperous land, Tournak,” Saxthor said.

“The people of Sengenwha’s northern plain have always cared deeply for their lands and livestock,” Tournak said. “They herd beasts on these rich pastures. Like the people of Heggolstockin, the Sengenwhan have enough prosperity they try to avoid wars that might disrupt their trade.”

“Sengenwha doesn’t have the desolate and desperate feeling Prertsten did,” Bodrin said.

“King Calamidese has no reason to deal with the evil that dominates Prertsten.” Saxthor was admiring the rich, dark green pastures and the sprawling oaks that dotted them. “It’s a relief to see prosperity in northern Sengenwha.” He turned to Hendrel. “I’ve not heard much of this country. Even as a boy at court, I heard little mention of Sengenwha. Do you know anything current about the king or the country politically?”

“I must confess I’ve spent my time between Neuyokkasin and Hador and have had little reason to travel through Sengenwha,” Hendrel said.

“It has a long history of failed competition with Neuyokkasin,” Tournak said.

Saxthor kicked a noxious weed growing up in the path. “Neither country wants another war, but after generations of animosity, neither side trusts the other either. Is that what you’re saying?”

Tournak turned to Saxthor. “Well, having been away for seven years, I can’t say for sure, but it’s doubtful King Calamidese will be particularly happy to see you.”

“The Sengenwhan have traded with Hoyans for as long as I can remember,” Tonelia said. “I don’t know much about the king, but the people are peaceful and quite willing to do honest trading.”

“If they have commercial success and a stable economy, they shouldn’t be hostile,” Hendrel said.

Astorax walked up beside Saxthor. “Before my accident, the people in the Heggolstockin Mountains traded our ceramics, high-mountain wool, and timber for Sengenwhan livestock, produce, and metal tools. The Sengenwhan are handsome people and fair in their trading. They care little for politics.”

“Yes, and remember that in Botahar, the wharf was long and shop business brisk. That wasn’t bad activity considering the lean times early last fall,” Tournak added.

“If Sengenwha is prosperous, and the indications support that, we shouldn’t encounter too much hostility,” Saxthor said. He stepped out in front of the troupe and turned, walking backward to face them. “Don’t reveal who I am. If the king still harbors ancient resentment, it’ll surface because of me and not with the rest of you.”

Saxthor turned again and led his troupe down the path toward the hills, which divided northern and central Sengenwha. He reached down and patted Delia who devotedly walked along beside him, panting with the pace.

“You’ll keep an eye out for trouble, won’t you, Delia?”

-

Sitting in the higher vantage point of Astorax antlers, Twit noted the attention paid to Delia.

Keep an eye out for trouble indeed, Twit thought, in communication with Delia.

Delia kept pace, but glanced up at the wren. Twit flew down on Delia’s head, flapping his wings to keep his balance, as she trotted along. You lumbering beast, he thought, how can you stand this rattling? How is it you don’t fall apart? Your whole body is bouncing and shaking. Why can’t you move gracefully as I do? How does Saxthor expect a slobbering dog to keep an eye out for trouble from down here?

Delia shook her head, throwing Twit off, making him fly up onto Saxthor’s shoulder. The bird looked down at Delia. People shake when they walk, too, but not as bad, Twit thought, fuming. At least wrens have the good sense to fly, or hop at the very least. You lumbering oaf. How dare you shake me off?

Twit looked straight at Delia for some sign of an answer, but she just kept pace with Saxthor, panting as she went along.

Well, if I were the size of a bug and pooped constantly, maybe I, too, could fly around in a feather coat all summer in the heat, Delia thought. You aren’t even big enough to smell trouble.

Twit caught the thought and flew up in a fluttering rage. How dare you, you lout, you can’t even walk or hop on two legs!

-

“What’s suddenly gotten into Twit?” Bodrin asked.

“You know how he is,” Saxthor said. “These days you never know when he’s going to have a conniption fit.”

I’ll poop on each one of you, if it takes me an hour, Twit thought.

He flew over and landed on Delia, deposited her remark on her head, then flew up again. Delia shook off the black and white bead and continued on, smiling with her left lip curled slightly up and under. Twit was beside himself and returned to his refuge in Astorax’s antlers.

“Well, I see Twit’s settled back down,” Bodrin said.

“Settled down,” Saxthor said. “I think he’s sulking about something. He does that a lot.”

Saxthor thumped off the pellet Twit left on his shoulder as the troupe traveled on across the northern plain of Sengenwha.

They kept to the forests and wooded streams, where cover prevented their discovery before it was necessary. Pastures and well-kept small farms dotted the countryside between the woods and groves confirming the earlier discussion of Sengenwha’s prosperity.

“I’m certain the orcs are heading to Sengenwha,” Saxthor said that evening around a sheltered fire under a cliff. He stirred it with a stick then tossed it into the fire. “We need to determine whether the king sanctions their movement through the kingdom, or he’s forced to accept them. That will affect how we approach the capital.”

“In either case, I can’t imagine the country people liking orcs creeping across the landscape. Remember how they abused the Prertstenians,” Bodrin said. He sharpened his sword blade, carefully wiped it with oil and lovingly slid it back into the scabbard.

As they went through the countryside, they saw neatly thatched, whitewashed cottages, where the people lived comfortable lives. The adventurers saw no orcs. The people didn’t seem frightened from a distance but increasingly suspicious.

“Where could the orcs be if they aren’t also traveling along this route?” Saxthor asked. Eventually the band worked its way to the hills that divided northern and central Sengenwha. “We must be careful in these hills. Wherever the orcs pass through Sengenwha, they’ll come to passes in these hills and mountains. The coast is too heavily populated, and the plains people we saw from a distance don’t appear troubled. If the orcs are hiding, it has to be in these hills.”

One day, they came to a steep ravine that ran as far as they could see between two low ridges of hills. The band lined up along a cliff edge and studied the gorge below.

“What an unpleasant surprise,” Bodrin said. “It’s so narrow I can almost throw a rock across it.”

“I don’t suppose we’re going back?” Tonelia asked. The men frowned, but said nothing. “Never mind, forget I asked.”

“We’ll have to cross the valley,” Saxthor said. “It’s so steep; no plants grow on the sides. We can’t climb down and up those cliffs, and there’s no cover, if we could.”

“Looks like that 'small' river down there cut the canyon ages ago,” Tournak said.

The rest looked over the edge at the tiny trickle way down at the bottom.

“That’s a river down there?” Bodrin asked.

They all looked again, then looked up and down the valley, but saw no bridge or means of crossing the chasm in either direction. Finally, off through the afternoon sun’s haze, they saw a dark shadow.

“That might be the rock closing together,” Hendrel said, pointing to the shadow off in the distance. “It could be a natural rock bridge there.”

The rest of the afternoon, the group worked their way along the north ridge and just reached the converging rock area at dusk.

“We’ll stop here for the night and camp back from the ridge in case orcs or other hostile creatures come this way. It won’t be safe to have a fire after dark here,” Saxthor said.

Tonelia passed out dried foods and skins of water while she could still see what was what. She repacked as the quarter-moon cracked the horizon. Saxthor posted a guard in the rocks, and the group slept early to be rested and ready to cross the hoped-for bridge as soon as possible the next morning.

Before long, Tournak was snoring, tucked in his blanket beside a rock, still warm from the afternoon sun. Before going to sleep, Tonelia was snuggling with Bodrin on his watch up in the rocks overlooking the path below.

Without warning, Astorax put his hand over Tournak’s mouth. He tossed a pebble at Bodrin, who was whispering with Tonelia and not paying attention. Bodrin looked up and saw Astorax hunched down in the rocks. The deer-man pointed to the trail below.

Coming along the path was a cohort of orcs led by an ogre. The sound of orc boots on the rocky path had alerted Astorax. They were approaching the rocks, where the adventurers hoped to find a bridge across the chasm. Astorax pointed to Saxthor asleep behind Bodrin, and Bodrin put his hand over Saxthor’s mouth, awakening him.

No one spoke. The orcs were just below them. Astorax turned from looking at the orcs to see Bodrin, slipping back from the edge. A pebble rolled down the ledge onto the path between two orcs. Astorax ducked as an orc looked up but didn’t break stride. Astorax watched the soldiers pass and disappear around the clump of boulders just down the path. Then the sounds tapered off. If the orcs camped in the rocks, I’d still hear them, Astorax thought.

“There must be a land bridge over the gorge or the orcs wouldn’t have come this way,” Astorax said. No one slept for the next half hour, but then, all but the posted sentry fell asleep. Next morning the group packed up fast.

“I’m anxious to find out what’s beyond the rocks, and to get off this trail,” Bodrin said. “I’ll go first and have a look beyond the boulders; the rest of you stay here.” Bodrin left and returned soon after. “As we suspected, there’s a natural stone bridge on the other side of these boulders, but beyond the gulf, there’s a tunnel we have to pass through.”

“Tunnel,” Tonelia said. “Remember the last tunnel in the Talok Mountains? I can’t face those monster crickets again. I don’t know if I can go into another tunnel.” She shivered. Astorax saw the goose bumps.

Seeing her fear, Bodrin put his arm around her, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll fight off any crickets to protect you.”

She flashed a trembling smile and pulled his arm tighter around her, holding his hand in hers.

Astorax was agitated. It might have been the deer in him, but he was apprehensive of going into a tunnel, too. Hendrel put his hand on the Astorax’s shoulder, as did Tournak.


Astorax you’re as much a part of the band as any one of us, as you’ve proven many times,” Saxthor said. “Every one of us will protect you.”

“Saxthor’s our leader; let’s tie a string to him and send him in. If we don’t pull back a foot, we’ll follow. How’s that?” Tonelia asked with a twinkle in her eye. She looked around the huddle for a response.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Bodrin said. They shared grins.

The humor relieved Astorax’s tension.

Saxthor nodded. “Great, you’re all volunteering
me
to go in there. So much for friends. Why not just tie me up neck to feet and toss me in the chasm as a sacrifice?”

“Tie a string around both legs,” Astorax said. He had the biggest grin of all. “If he doesn’t come back, I’ll want both boots.”

They all looked at each other, then at Astorax’s hooves and burst out laughing. Bodrin looked back up the trail to be sure no one was around.

“You ready to take on the tunnel?” Saxthor asked. He checked his sword and staff and saw the others do the same. Tonelia tested her finger torch. Bodrin mussed her hair and she brushed him away.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Saxthor said.

“The orcs travel mostly at night,” Tournak said. “We can travel in the daylight, too, and that gives us a great advantage over wraiths that can’t stand sunlight.”

“Wraiths can commandeer a body and move about in diffused light,” Hendrel added.

“Yes, but exposed wraiths evaporate in direct sunlight, just as dwarves and trolls turn to stone.”

“Not rock-dwarves,” Bodrin added.

“Enough, time to go,” Saxthor said. “We should be safe traveling during daylight, but keep an eye out for the orcs that passed last night.”

Saxthor led the band along the path to the boulders. He crept slowly around the great rock pylons in case there was an orc guard on the bridge. The others stood behind him with hands on their swords or staffs. Even Astorax carried a sword now. Tonelia chewed her lip.

*

Saxthor saw the trail narrowed between the boulders, but there was no guard in sight. He inched toward the bridge. A small contingent here could control who travels south into central Sengenwha, he thought. There was no sign of orcs or any resistance, though orc tracks lead into the tunnel.

With Saxthor in the lead, the group crossed over to the natural rock bridge to the other side and faced the tunnel entrance. Saxthor peered into the darkness; he couldn’t see the light from the other end. “Something is blocking the passageway. I can’t see in far, and it can’t be that long a shaft, judging from what we saw from up on the ledge this morning. Since the tunnel can’t be that long, there must be an obstruction.”

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