The Silver Sphere (13 page)

He always tapped an inner strength, which seemed to materialize
when he needed it. Nick never reflected much on it. As dangerous as the action was,
he hadn't thought twice back in the van about saving Emily.

Weary with confusion, his inner strength now rose, and the madcap
laughter ended.

Whatever lay ahead, he would deal with it. He strode forward.

Throg guided the boat downriver.

Zach, his stomach full, nodded off into a deep and much needed
sleep. With the problems he faced at home, he rarely slept. A long while had passed
since his eyes felt as heavy as they did the seconds before they shut.

Hours later, he awoke revitalized. He'd had no dreams or nightmares
this time. The glow of the sun warmed the deck of the ship. He smiled and stood,
but a piercing pain erupted in his head and he doubled over.

"Stay calm. Let the communication happen," Throg said.

A face took shape when he closed his eyes: a man, someone he
thought looked familiar. Smooth skin, dark hair, and glimmering eyes were all Zach
could make out. The image tried to speak to him, but like a car radio under a bridge,
the message broke up.

"We... m-morning... v-valley,"
the man murmured.
He disappeared as abruptly as turning a television off.

Zach's vision dissolved, and then focused as his head captured
the experience.

"Wha-what just happened? I saw s-someone."

"Your link to the Assembly contacted you. He is trying to
send a message. Did he say anything?" Throg asked, as if such correspondence
was commonplace.

Zach rubbed his temples because a slight throbbing remained.
"I couldn't make out most of the words. He did say something about a valley."

Throg patted his back. "The irritation will pass, and the
next connection will be easier. Valley, eh? I hope it's not Tomb Valley. We must
hike through the Cark to get there—a death trap."

"You mean the Cark Forest with all those creepy little men?"

"Aye, the Bogmen. We can't go there alone, though; too dangerous.
Besides, he may not have meant Tomb Valley. We need to trek down the river a bit
more. I passed a large encampment of Meridian soldiers on the way upriver. With
any luck, they're still camping there."

Zach decided to lie back down and gaze at the sky as the boat
chugged along. The blue heavens offered occasional spurts of marshmallow clouds.
He drew in a deep breath of clean air. The aroma was of the river, fishy, warm,
and sweet from the gurgling flow of fresh water.

The throbbing in his skull subsided and he sat up.

Throg smiled. "Head better now, laddie? The transmissions
will become easier as you get more of them. It's a good sign. Your link is attempting
to reach you, and he must be strong to do so. Keep quiet a bit now. This particular
part of the river sports some surly types."

They glided on for a couple miles. Throg slowed the boat and
steered to the east bank. A few bugs swarmed nearby and Zach swatted at them. Gnats
kept flying around his head.

Throg whispered, "This is the last place the Meridian Brigade
encamped when I traveled this way the other day. I stopped in and had some chud
and tea with them. The captain's name is Spiro."

Smoke billowed through the air, hugging the treetops. They drew
nearer and viewed flames dancing along the shoreline. Burning tents mixed with the
fishy river—Zach's brow creased.

"Heathens," grumbled Throg.

The boat pulled up to the rocky shore and Throg leapt over the
side and tied the vessel down to a thick bush. The camp had been pillaged. Several
bloody figures dressed in armor lay still.

Zach stood stunned, eyes wide; he'd only seen dead bodies on
television or in video games. Those men in the mud had once been alive. Flies danced
around the mouth of one soldier.

"Stay on the dang boat, Zach. Should I not return soon,
don't come looking for me. Steer the boat straight down the river. Stop before the
Invunche Lake and walk east to the Dorado Path. The course will lead you to Meracuse,
Meridia's capital."

"No, I'm coming with you. I don't know w-where to go. I'd
get lost in these w-woods without y-you."

"Laddie, take a quick peek. Someone slaughtered this brigade.
Meridia is my home. I need to find out who did this, and I'm not bringing you. Understand?"

Zach nodded, but he hated being left alone. He hoped Throg wouldn't
be gone long.

Throg strode into the encampment. Several of the Meridian soldiers
still had their swords holstered. Most of them had been butchered in their sleep.
To the left, a Meridian lay with his throat slit—like a sick, red grin.

Throg forged on through the grim setting. Someone moaned to his
right, and he dashed over to the downed soldier.

The warrior stirred.

Throg turned the man over and put his canteen to the wounded
soldier's lips. The man guzzled, opened his eyes, and looked into Throg's. Death
was in his blue gaze. He had a black mole under his chin and a thick blond beard.

"Y-you are Throg. You w-were here the other d-day."

"Yes, I'm sorry, soldier. I was not present to fight by
your side."

The fallen warrior gurgled, then grasped the canteen and poured
water over his face. Otherwise, he did not move. His left arm was mangled. Slick
blood wept from beneath the plated steel he wore.

"Many of your brigade's weapons were not drawn," Throg
said in a clear, deliberate manner.

"Aye, Throg, it w-was... they w-wore the a-armor of N-Nightlanders.
They were as s-silent as l-legend says. That m-means...." The trooper gasped
for air.

"I understand, soldier. Biskara's son. It has begun again."

"Then G-God-speed, dear Th-Throg. Do not let our d-deaths
be in vain. You must w-warn Lord Achernar."

The soldier coughed, a spray of blood coming up. His eyes closed,
and Throg knew it would be for the last time. The body went limp in his arms.

Throg set some chud on the man's breastplate and said a prayer
over the soldier, "May Horologium be your guide and your shield, the truth
seekers your armor, and Eridanus give you wisdom." He unfastened the dead man's
sword and walked back toward the boat.

Grim remorse settled over him. These soldiers were friends of
his. Families would miss them, but he could not spare time to bury any of them.
Nightlanders were in the area. He had to get Zach to safety, and fast. No telling
when a Nightlander might strike.

He approached the craft and Zach's head popped up.

"Who did this?" Zach asked, sounding rattled.

"The Nightlanders. They've returned."

"W-what?"

"What we spoke about earlier—that you are a Kin and Biskara
returning—is true. The Nightlanders are wearing armor, which means they are ready
to battle. They would never do such a thing unless they were close to full power.
The skills they possess, coming into a Meridian Brigade camp undetected, and your
presence, can only mean they are back and will come again."

"What now?"

"Here is a good soldier's sword. He was about your size,
and I possess few extra weapons."

He handed the sword to Zach, who paused before accepting the
gift. Throg watched the Kin hold the hilt across his body with both hands and study
it. The scabbard had been stained with blood, but the blade shimmered clean.

"I need to go through the area now to make sure I do not
leave any survivors behind. Stay low and keep the sword ready. I will return in
a short time." He turned and started back toward the camp.

"Throg?"

"Yes?"

"I've never held a sword before."

"Don't worry. We've all lived other lives."

Throg gazed at the scattered bodies and burning soil, and pursued
the dreary business of confirming no one remained alive. He made his way through
the camp, inspecting each body, and pulled a piece of chalk out of a pouch on his
belt to mark the armored bodies as he moved along. After he was done, he counted
fifty-three fallen.

Not one had a pulse.

Some are missing,
he thought. At least sixty men had been
in camp when he'd supped with them. Captain Spiro had not been among the dead, either,
which heartened him a little. Perhaps his companion had escaped.

Another option loomed. Spiro may not have been with his men.
The Nightlanders may have captured him and taken him for questioning. Such an outcome
would not have surprised Throg. The thought made him sick with fear for his friend.
He removed a piece of chud from his satchel for each of the fallen men, and rested
it on their chests or in their hands. They would need it in the afterlife.

His work done, he returned to the boat.

Zach leapt over the side to meet him. The Kin didn't say anything
as he helped Throg untie the vessel. Zach took the rope from him and wound it.

"Get on," said Throg.

Zach nodded and hopped inside.

Throg paused, giving one last look at the destroyed camp and
dead bodies. Would that he had time to bury them, but with Nightlanders on the move,
they couldn't afford to stop for long. With a heavy heart, he pushed the boat out
to the river and hoisted himself aboard.

"I'm not quite sure what to say," Zach mumbled.

"Nothing to say. I was hoping we would have more time to
organize, to get back to Lord Achernar, and reunite with your Kin. The Nightlanders
have wiped out a Meridian Brigade. We are at war. I'm not certain who's in charge
of this army of the Nightlanders, but I recall last year a fellow by the name of
Malefic Cacoethes creating quite a stir up in the Canopus Hills. I heard his name
a few times when I stopped to sup with Meridian soldiers, but I sensed no fear of
a Nightlander uprising."

He paused. "We'll need to abandon the boat soon. This river
is a main path and leads to the Invunche Lake. Both are too easy for an ambush.
Time to go on foot."

"How dangerous are these woods?"

"Well, outside of the prowling Nightlanders, the woodland
is as perilous as any on Earth. Instead of bears, the wealds offer some other creatures,
monsters and such, which we need to avoid. Not like the Cark, of course, but we
must be careful just the same."

They traveled without speaking for a while. Several Pegasi erupted
from the brush to the right. They neighed, their bright white wings flapping as
they soared into the woods. Half a dozen otter-like mammals emerged to the left,
scrambled to land, and scampered away.

"Something's out there," Throg whispered, raising his
brow.

They cruised a few more minutes. Disliking the silence, Throg
shifted. He grabbed one of his weapons, a sturdy long-shafted pike, and scanned
the thick brush on the east shore of the river.

"There's a good spot to cast," he said and pointed
to a clearing ahead. He steered toward the place.

The boat jerked and knocked Zach to the floor.

"Dang it all. A wishpoosh," Throg called out in disgust.

"A... a w-wishpoosh?"

"A man-eater. We need to get to shore, now!"

"How can you tell? I can't see anything," Zach said
as the craft continued to shake.

Throg couldn't reply. A loud crunch echoed as the vessel flipped
over and they were hurled into the cold river.