Windcatcher: Book I of the Stone War Chronicles (43 page)

Corza paced up and down his room. They had been chasing the group for weeks. Sometimes losing track of them for a number of days, but then a patrol would spot them—or go missing—and give them an indication of where the group had been. Then, they would close in on them, once more.

After the stone arch collapsed, Corza and his men had taken the long way round. They fell back to one of the forest forts to get reinforcements. He had taken a moment to inform his dear leader, Lord Rictor, about the unfortunate demise of High General Koltar Wayler at the hands of their enemy, and to ensure that he would not rest until this group was caught and brought to the justice before the Stone King.

After that, they set out to travel round the mountain range. Messenger birds had been sent out, giving orders to scout the remote areas for the intruders. They had no luck until, by chance, the High General ran into the short-haired soldier in one of the forest food storage compounds.

Corza grabbed his Roc’turr and walked over to the slave girl, tied to the side wall in his room, with her hands above her head. She was sobbing, silently, afraid to draw attention to herself.

Corza put his hands on her ragged dress and ripped it from her body.

“A girl as impure as you has no need for modesties like clothes,” he hissed.

The girl whimpered. According to the soldiers in the harbor, she was one of the regular girls, tending to the needs of the soldiers and, apparently, quite good at it.

“How dare you try and seduce me when I’m not in the mood,” Corza continued.

He took hold of her left breast and squeezed as hard as he could. The girl let out a cry, in pain. He had to admit, she had a pretty face. He would have to do something about that later.

“See, I still don’t understand how he could have vanished into thin air that night, out in the forest,” he said, as he dragged the point of the sacrificial dagger across her arms downward. As the point crossed her neck, the girl grew wide eyed and held her breath, in shock…but the dagger moved on, without cutting any skin.

“…unless a Kzaktor actually got hold of him. But somehow, he seemed too smart. For. That.”

He enforced each of his last words by cutting a small gash in the woman’s flesh…two across her stomach and one on her left arm. The girl screamed out, in surprise and pain. Blood trickled down across her skin.

Not wanted to run around, like a madman, after the night he ran into Raylan, Corza had traveled further south to their fallout base. He had to be there to oversee the final preparations anyway; and he could use the time to get some of his strength back, strength he had lost from the march through the White North. The rest was doing him good, but he had to trust incompetent men to track down what he desired most.

After that night, it took them a few days, but eventually they tracked the group all the way to just north of Turaell Lake, which was the size of a small sea, but somehow they had gotten away again. There had been quite a few casualties.

Corza got to his knees and looked up.

“My men say a ferocious beast accompanies them. Larger than any man.”

Putting his face to her lovely soft thigh, he licked the small, dripping stream of blood on her skin.

“It can only mean the egg has hatched. It can be nothing other than a dragon, by what they describe. MY DRAGON!”

Another cut, across her thigh, provoked an agonizing scream.

“Please, sir. Please, no more. I’m sorry that I offered myself to you. Please, let me go…I...uhg…hmpf…”

Corza ripped a piece of cloth from her dress and stuffed it in her mouth.

“You misunderstand, child. You’re here just to listen!”

Tears ran across the girl’s cheeks as she tried to move away from the blade. Two more cuts, this time on her hand and cheek. The cut on her face stung as tears and blood mixed together.

“See, this creature—this dragon—was going to be my weapon. Under my command, it would destroy anybody trying to oppose my will.”

The point of the dragger slid along her skin to her right breast. Corza straightened the blade, and put pressure on the point, as it pushed itself slowly into her skin. The girl’s muffled cries supported the panic in her eyes.

“Just like High General Wayler. That son of a bitch got what he deserved when I threw him off the cliff.”

He dragged the point through her breast, making a large cut on the top of it, across her nipple.

“Oh, sorry, did I accidentally cut your sweet, little pink nipple?” Corza joked, crudely.

“But that dragon will be mine, I’ll tell you that.”

Another cut.

“With it, I will walk up to the Stone King. No shadow will be able to stop me!”

Another cut, and another.

“And, destroy him completely! Or perhaps, just get rid of that devilish arm of his and take a leg or two…I have not decided, yet. But be assured, once I’m done, none will be my equal!”

The girl barely reacted to the cuts anymore; her body was in shock and unaware of any new injury done to her. Blood flowed, rapidly, down her skin, as she let her head hang; she was unable to stand on her feet any longer.

Corza lifted her head and looked her in the eyes.

“It seems like you’ve learned your lesson.”

The girl looked at him, her blank stare slowly turning into hope. Corza smiled.

“Of course, now that I’ve told you my plans, I could never let you walk out of here.”

As he turned around, the girl started to scream. Corza walked over to a chest in the corner of the room and opened it. He took out a scroll and turned back to her.

“Might as well get some use out of your body…” he said, as he approached her and started the incantations.

Chapter 14

Rescue

Raylan put his hand in the crack around the corner of the boulder. Pushing off with his feet, he shifted his weight onto his right leg. This was always the tricky part, but he was getting used to the movement he needed to make—which was not all that strange since he had made the climb multiple times per day for the last twelve days straight.

The first time, it took him several attempts to find a suitable route. He had gotten stuck a number of times, until he finally found the hidden handhold on the blind side of a large, overhanging rock.

They had traveled for six days along the coastal cliffs, before reaching their current encampment. More than once, the group was forced to backtrack as their route led to a dead-end. Taking it slow, they took all the precautions not to run into any patrols.

During those days, Galirras often took flight below the cliffs, playing with the wind currents swirling around the rocky shore. An animal unable to see the wind would have trouble navigating the swiftly changing currents of air smashing into the stone. Anything flying too close would risk being thrown into the rocks, or being swallowed by sprays of seawater.

The only animals daring enough to fly near the cliffs were small, arrow-like birds. They appeared to have nests built into the rocks, and feasted on small insects living on the forest’s edge. The speed and agility of these little creatures allowed them to quickly adjust to any changes in the unpredictable air currents. Their flight patterns were very reactive, filled with sudden movements; unlike Galirras, who was learning to read the wind and to anticipate its changes before they happened. Nonetheless, the little creatures were a treat to watch, and Galirras highly enjoyed trying to imitate and to chase them, even if it would take a thousand of them to fill his stomach.

On the third day they had come across a sea lion colony, much to the pleasure of the hungry dragon. He was amused by these animals that had no real legs and flopped around on land, rather helplessly—until they hit the water and suddenly darted in every direction at lightning speed. He had grabbed one on land, fairly easy, but then made the mistake of diving into the water to see if he could catch one there…it had cost him, dearly. Going into the water had not been the problem; dismissing the fact that he completely missed his prey, it took him a great amount of energy to get out of the water again.

It gave Raylan some terrifying moments; he had been afraid he would be forced to watch as Galirras drowned, without being able to help him. With no ground under his feet, Galirras had relied on his wings to get out of the water, but he could not raise high enough out of the water to use them.

As Galirras used all four limbs and his tail to push himself forward, wave after wave crashed over him. After what had seemed like ages to Raylan—who watched from the cliffs—the desperate, water treading dragon finally reached some small rocks to climb on. Exhausted, Galirras had pulled himself onto damp ground, grateful he had a moment to catch his breath. It had taken quite some time until Galirras was rested enough again to get back onto the cliffs. The remainder of that day, the dragon had stayed very close to Raylan, only traveling on foot. From that moment on, whenever they saw the sea lions, the dragon gladly focused on the ones he could take, by surprise, on land. Raylan also noticed Galirras would not fly as low to the water as he did before.

When they approached the end of the landmass, they had ran into a large rock wall. It blocked them from reaching the most western point, where the Drowned Man’s Fork was located. So, they decided to move along the wall toward the south, to see if another path would allow them to continue. Following it for the day only led the group to the south side of the landmass, but the rock wall never lowered or gave way. It was like someone had knocked the entire western point upward with one giant kick, lifting the ground everywhere, at the same time.

The south cliffs had not offered a better view of the Drowned Man’s Fork, which left them with two options; they could place a lookout at both the northern and southern coasts of the landmass to keep an eye on the ocean, or they would have to come up with a way to get up there.

They had surveyed the wall for possible climbing routes, which took them another day to map out. After many attempts, Raylan had been the one who managed to finish the climb, successfully, for the first time. His discovery of the hidden handgrips had allowed them to reach the top of the wall. From there, it was just a short journey to an excellent lookout point. It provided a full view of the three mighty pillars and allowed Raylan to see the water of the Great Eastern Divide from a wide angle. No ship would go undetected from up there.

And so it came to be that Raylan made the climb, at least once—but more often multiple times—per day. Their group had established a small campsite, which was hidden from view…unless one accidentally wandered right into it.

Rotating small scouting parties, they kept an eye out for any enemy patrols; but, they had not encountered them on the landmass, yet. A direct confrontation would be disastrous, as they would not have a lot of places to run, or hide, if they were to be discovered.

Gavin had not liked their options; every day the chances of being discovered increased. But, it could not be helped. If they wanted any chance of getting home by ship, they had to stay here and signal the ship when it arrived…and Gavin hoped, with all his heart, it would arrive.

As Raylan pulled himself over the top edge, he heard Galirras approach and land a small ways from him.

“
I did not see anything, yet. I do not understand why you do not just let me fly around the pillars, from time to time, to check out the water for any ships
,” Galirras remarked, “
it would save you a lot of energy by avoiding these climbs
.”

“I’m fine,” Raylan said, while catching his breath. “Besides, a dragon flying around a well-known landmark is bound to draw attention…from the wrong people…which we
don’t
need. I promise, when we leave these lands behind, there will be less sneaking. We can go see places, explore. I will show you the far corners of Aeterra, and Shid’el, of course. I think you’ll like it there.”

“
Tell me again what it is like
,” said Galirras.

“Well, the kingdom itself is vast. Spanning from sea to sea. Shid’el, where I was born, is built against the face of a large mountain that is part of the Crescent Moon Massif. They call it that because the mountains rise up from the coastal area in the west and run both north and south like the points of a sickle moon, bending off toward the east. The city lays on the southern side of the northern moon point, bathing in as much sunlight as the seasons can give.”

Raylan had told the story a dozen times now, but he saw Galirras’ eyes swirl around, excitedly, as if it was the first time.

“When you stand on the walls of the city, you can look across the tremendous grass plains with patches of forests and yellow farmlands that reach as far as the eye can see. Beyond it, on the far horizon, the mountain peaks of the southern moon point can be seen, but only on a clear day,” continued Raylan.

“It takes a horse and rider just under a week to reach the southern end of the crescent moon ridges…but I bet you could fly it in a day or two.”

“
What else
?” said Galirras.

“The lands that go east are filled with rolling hills with grass and trees. Turn north, and you get to the thick forests of Dahales. That’s where Kevhin and Rohan are from, by the way. Dahales guards the north, but the northern wilderness holds no real threats, nothing more than a few scattered outposts…or so we thought, up till now,” said Raylan, as he pictured the large Doskovian force that had traveled the northern regions.