Odyssey

CHAPTER 9

The early morning dew made the grasslands a jeweled vista, the sun's rays glittering off the small droplets. The rider nudged the sides of her steed and set it through the tall grass.

The woman looked alertly over the landscape, the slight fold of her eyes hiding some of the intensity of her observation. Her black hair trailed down her back, bound in a long rope by silvered ornaments. One arm rested on her saddle pommel, encased in leather and steel. The bracer's ancient power was temporarily quiescent. A tall asymmetric bow tilted forward in its case, the fine wood of the box repelling the morning moisture.

The unicorn ran easily, its gait almost gentle but covering ground faster than a horse could run. Its horn glinted, the delicate spiral supported by steel laminated and magically bonded to its skull. The mount's saddle was a tangle of straps, and the rider's legs were half-enclosed by the stirrups.

The need for such careful securing was obvious as the unicorn turned at an incredibly sharp angle, altering its run in response to a nudge from its rider's knee. Dirt showered as the steed accelerated, its enchanted hooves casting pebbles and dirt clods up into the air like slings.

The loudest sound was the jingle of the woman's scale mail and the slap of the long cavalry sword against her back. A field of tall wild flowers lay in a depression, and she directed the steed toward them. The tension was obvious in her first strokes as she tried to loosen her muscles. The first cuts took great swathes of flowers as she struggled for precision. She turned the unicorn in a tight circle almost peeling her out of the saddle. Again she went through the flowers. Now the sword strokes took single blossoms, and she nodded in satisfaction at her skill.

"If only the forest beasts were as easily understood and directed," Pianna, Captain of the Order, whispered to herself. For weeks, animals from the west appeared and acted unpredictably. Solitary beasts that naturally subsisted alone now roamed in large groups. Skittish herd animals became insanely aggressive. Beasts plowed through the fields and villages of man doing destruction but only sporadically, leaving some settlements completely alone while only a few miles away numberless herds destroyed everything. She sent messengers to druids and other holders of wisdom, but no answer issued from the forest, only more animals that pursued some unknown path or goal. The purposeless attacks were becoming the Order's crucible.

For years she had extended the Order's message of new unity, and now it was being put to the test. Unfortunately, it was a test the organization was failing. The raids continued despite her best efforts. There seemed to be no plan or direction to the strikes. Animals and monstrous plants appeared at villages and struck out in frenzy. Sometime the attacks stopped before much was destroyed, even if a hamlet had no real defenses. Other times the assaults continued until all was destroyed and the inhabitants were dead.

The Order-sponsored militias were swept away by the unrelenting aggression. For a second, Pianna regretted the lack of war machines imposed by the Strictures. In the past, mechanisms might have turned such assaults without casualties. Her losses were precious members of the Order.

"But such machines breed more destruction and contempt for life because they are so easily replaced," she reminded herself. The legend of Urza provided a chilling lesson of the madness artifacts led to. Armies of unquestioning automatons fought wars for centuries, stripping the world down to a husk from which it was still recovering. Even after a century, there were still vast fields of machines being found, the rusted and crushed instruments of a world's destruction. Each one an opportunity for evil, to be rebuilt until an unquestioning army might march again. The Order might be beleaguered, but it was still a living expression of noble ideals.

She fingered the sword at her side, her hands running over the pommel worn smooth by generations of commanders. It had belonged to one of the original members of the Order, a symbol of authority transferred from leader to leader, its steel in service for hundreds of years. But it acted on the choices of its wielder. It was an extension of her soul, not a free- ranging engine of destruction. Her skill was what controlled it, and before every fight she dedicated her life and ideals to the Order. If it could act on its own, such a servant would dilute her involvement in her soul's journey.

In such a case, she would throw it in the crusher that very second.

The crushers were devours of the past, great engines the size of a manor, their interiors filled with swinging hammers and blades. Their power derived solely from the great wheels turned by knights and squires. The engines were an extension of the individuals like a sword, or so the captain told herself. Pianna hoped that the machines were not corrupting the Order even as they tried to save the world. Those artifacts and instruments of the past, which had led the world so astray, were committed to the bowels of the device, ground between wheel until only small scraps remained. What was left was sold to blacksmiths and tinkers. What corrupted the world was devoured by the forge and rendered into simple blades and pots. Those items of unusual lethality were melted down and cast into ingots, the metal bars hidden in Order fortifications or dropped into the deep waters of the ocean. Better to rely on one's own humanity than sacrifice it for soulless fighters.

The unicorn's hooves carried her far as she ruminated, and her shadow on the ground lengthened. On the horizon a line of trees was visible, stretching several miles across. The mount accelerated as the captain used her heels, her hands checking her equipment as they leaped forward. The wood lay in a section of the plain, exposed like an outrunner of the forest. The copse was only a few miles across, but the trees soared hundreds of feet into the air.

Villages grew nearby, and races of all description tried to make a living through the forest's bounty. Those brave enough harvested the wood, depending on the isolated nature of the grove to prevent attacks from dangerous animals found in the forest proper. But Pianna had recently received disturbing reports of animal attacks and missing villagers. A small detachment of the Order followed behind her but farther west. The captain continued alone to question the heads of the villages about these recent occurrences.

The forest was a wall, and she still saw no sign of the villagers. Where was the smoke from cooking fires or signs of timber wagons working the forest's edge? It had been years since she came this way, and perhaps her trail sense had misled her. The road might have shifted or the loggers moved to new ground. She doubted such rationalizations and drew her bow from her case. The laminated layers of wood, horn, and metal were smooth in her hands. She checked the tension of the string, and her pluck sounded almost lyrical as the various components vibrated and provided a rich tone. Her spirit settled, the single note calming her worries. Her quiver was full and her bow strung, her mastery practiced and ready. She moved laterally along the forest edge, the sure hooves of her steed laughing at fallen trees and gullies. Still no sign of life, and she nudged the unicorn to a faster pace.

Howls seemed to rise from the ground as she rode around a green peninsula. The stumps in the clearing revealed a deep cut into the forest. Dozens of dire wolves ran from the forest, joining the giant pack that surrounded an isolated tree. In the branches of a giant pine, a group of loggers waved their distress. A grove of whisper trees sighed softly in the breeze, their branches swallowing the yells of the men and the screams of the horses.

Whisper trees grew in small numbers, and somehow the movement of their branches muffled sounds. Such groves were notorious for traps, but a lively market in paneling that absorbed noise was in high demand in the larger cities. Men of wealth lined homes to cut off the bustle of the town, introducing pastoral quiet in the most densely packed markets. Plotters and conspirators paid a premium to line rooms where their councils might be kept from prying ears. Prisons were said to have rooms where the screams of starving and tortured souls were never heard.

But now the loggers might pay the price of their craft. She knew that there would be guards to protect the loggers somewhere nearby. Harvesting trees from the forest was dangerous and often disturbed creatures that only well-armed fighters could discourage. Her own troops were across the forest, and Pianna doubted they would arrive in time. Only the vagaries of the afternoon air had allowed her to hear anything at all.

There were still loggers scaling the lone tree, trying to get out of reach of canine teeth. Ropes swarmed with men as a circle of wolves around the trunk contracted. The rotten gaping wound on the tree's trunk explained why it had not been harvested. A lurch of the bare branches suggested that it could not bear its current crop of panicked men for long.

Most of the wolves seemed little interested in the men, rooting through the wagon scattered and overturned in the clearing. Red jaws howled silently as the beasts rose from feasting on the draft animals still in their traces.

Members of the pack leaped from the tumbled wagons, dragging away equipment as they worked furiously. Whatever the animals were looking for, Pianna could tell that they were not finding it. Now the mass of animals seemed to find new energy and converged on the few men still fighting on the ground. A few loggers swung their axes and heavy chains, giving their fellows time to ascend the ropes.

The number of men on the ground shrank, but each successful retreat made the rearguard's job more difficult.

Her arrow was laid and launched in a heartbeat, the shaft driving through the ribs of a wolf to drop it in its tracks. Others followed, her shoulder muscles rolling as she sent missiles flying. The wolves did not turn as she killed the rear animals. The whisper trees masked her attack, allowing her to slaughter at will. However, the wolves did not cease their attack, and she watched a logger get dragged down. The dire wolf was the size of a small pony, and the man came apart like a sickly rabbit as the canine head tossed his body. Pianna could hear no screams thanks to the surrounding trees.

Power flowed through her veins and into the threads of metal in her bow. Her bracer glowed brightly as she let loose another arrow. This one flew to the head of the pack, and its discharge was blinding, the flash leaving wolves writhing as their eyes tried to adapt. The loggers were blind as well, and one went down, tripping over a rolling wolf. The animal did not attack, but the man's own axe laid his leg open. His enemy's lolling tongue lapped at the blood as everyone's vision cleared.

Pianna drove the unicorn closer, more magic singing through her bow. Now the projectiles swelled until they seemed javelins, nailing the wolves to the ground. The animals still did not react, bizarrely intent on the men on and around the tree despite the ample carrion everywhere. The captain drove her steed into the rear of the pack. The unicorn's horn dipped and punctured sides as the pair tried to turn the attack from the loggers. Finally, her slaughter made the wolves react in self-preservation. The beasts spun and tore at her, but the Order leader's magic rose as a shield.

Golden light encased Pianna's legs and the unicorn's sides as she tried to draw the pack away.

Her steed was a kicking and screaming demon, its hooves shattering skulls and ribs as the wolves tried to overwhelm them. The captain swore as she saw there were still loggers on the ground. She rose in the saddle and fired back toward the tree, killing a beast tearing off a logger's leg. Two wolves leaped as she provided covering fire to the final men. Power still flooding her bow, she swung it like a stave. It struck, destroying the animal's ribs. The other beast's jaw stopped inches away as the unicorn twisted its neck with a sinuous grace, stabbing its horn deep into the wolf's side and piercing the heart. The weight of the forest hunter nearly toppled her steed, and the equine weapon flared with power as it shook the corpse free.

The pack was converging on her, and Pianna spun the unicorn on its rear legs to ride free. She killed an attacker as it tried to duck under her steed. Another wolf tried to hamstring her mount, but the invoked armor defeated its teeth. More converged, but the unicorn's acceleration stopped them from being buried by the pack. One beast nearly defeated the captain as it clambered on top of its fellows and leaped to snatch Pianna from the saddle. The unicorn reacted to the captain's sudden signal and turned again, flattening into an all-out run. The wolf's outstretched paws hooked her quiver and tore it open. It was only the strength of the unicorn and the semi-locking stirrups that prevented the leader of the Order from being dragged to the ground.

The unicorn's pace took it out of danger, but Pianna hauled her steed about, looking to see if the pack still followed. The wolves were turning back to the men at the base of the tree. The branches looked overloaded, and desperate loggers cut the ropes to the ground, spilling a few straggling climbers. One person in the crown had a light crossbow and loosed a bolt. The projectile did nothing more than return the wolves' attention back to the encircled woodsmen. Pianna cursed the man's vain attempts even as she circled her steed and raised more power. She was not as strong as her lieutenant in the mystic arts, but bursts of power left her bow despite her lack of arrows.

More of the canines dropped, the shafts of energy burning away limbs and exploding inside the animals. Many of the crippled animals were torn apart by their fellows as the beasts raged out of control. In a second, the circle around the tree was breached, and the men on the ground died, despite the captain's flurry of arrows and rain of impromptu weapons from the loggers above.

The animals were insane killing machines, snapping at everything. Pianna turned her steed to ride out of danger now that the men on the ground were dead. A branch broke, and two men fell to their deaths. Each extracted a measure of vengeance as they crushed the wolves they landed on, but they died by the jaws of the others. The captain's arrows swept the successful killers away, but the pack did not turn. The animals threw themselves against the tree, which shuddered, revealing the rottenness at its core. Pianna saw the despair on the loggers' faces and sent the unicorn forward once more.

The captain's bow shot shards of pure energy, but she paid a steep price for each shot. Pianna's skill as a archer created arrows that enhanced her power in concert with her spirit, bow, and bracer. Now the magic flowed like a river and drained away the mystic armor from her legs and steed.

She was surrounded now, using her magnificent bow as a club until it was dragged away by foamy jaws. Her sword arced out and cut down the wolf that thought her helpless. Now bare steel carved into the pack as Pianna directed all her power into armor. The mesh of power over her and her steed grew as tattered as lace as her last reserves of strength drained away. The silence of the battle made it seem a dream as she readied herself for death.

A shower of javelins and spears fell from the sky, promising life like spring's first rain. Pianna drove toward the tree, her sword cutting through the snarling wall as more weapons plummeted from above. At last she was through and turned her steed, backing into the rotting cavity of the trunk. The armor on the unicorn flanks evaporated. Now only a thin web of armor on the unicorn's neck and fore-quarters offered resistance to the dire wolves' teeth. But that thin protection was enough as an Order aerial unit came to the rescue.

Griffins dived from the sky, their shrieks of rage lost in the whisper trees. Another flight of javelins stabbed into the wolves as the soldiers used the last of their throwing weapons and closed with the pack. Talons flashed. The fliers snatched up the maddened animals. Beaks and swords were red with blood, and the flying steeds and their riders pulled clear. Other griffins landed out in the clearing and advanced on the tattered edges of the pack.

The elite soldiers swung long flails and maces. The wolves turned to overwhelm the reinforcements. Bones exploded as the enhanced weapons swatted the animals away. Some of the animals tried to run, but most closed with the fighters. The fresh mages were encased in magical power and nearly immune to the dire wolves. The detachment reaped the clearing free of their opponents, the furry bodies pinwheeling away. A few mounted archers overhead unleashed waves of mystic arrows, peppering the wolves in front of the tree that still tried to reach Pianna. The loggers overhead might have screamed with joy, but the captain could only guess, for the whisper trees smothered every sound. Pianna's magic faded away, but the battle was over, and the pack broke apart.

A few remaining wolves fled deeper into the wood, the trees preventing aerial pursuit. Many of her command dismounted, but Pianna sent her tiring beast in front of her rescuers. Using battle sign, she directed them to help the wounded woodsmen. They obeyed, the power that armored them fading as they prepared to heal those still hanging onto life.

She waved for the leader of the griffin riders to follow and took the unicorn away from the whisper trees, the sounds of the plains once more in her ears as she left their sphere of influence.

"Sergeant Paige," Pianna said, her arms feeling the burn of her archery, "what of the villages nearby?" The griffin riders, due to their speed, were the premier scouts of the Order.

"Captain," he replied, coughing up dust, "the villages have all been set upon by creatures of the wood. Bears and other monsters are common, and there are rumors of great beasts annihilating everything in their way. We escorted those willing to come to the fort before returning to check on you." The soldier showed the irritation that all sergeants had with too-brave officers. "You were fortunate that we arrived to…" He paused, his lined face working as he considered her bland expression. "… support your charge, Captain. I am sure you were moments from victory." "In protecting those under my care, there is no choice, Paige," Pianna answered. "We need to get these people back to the fort if their village is evacuated." She considered the wagons rolling away now from the whisper trees. "But how many we can move away from danger, I just don't know."

Despite its crude construction, the fort looked like heaven to Pianna. The walls were nothing more than upended logs, standing only fifteen feet high. Clumps of longer trunks provided cover for archers, but it was nothing compared to the mighty ramparts of other Order fortresses. The fort was on a broad rise, surrounded by a dry moat and the wooden wall. An artificial hill rose some seventy feet, and it was capped by a large tower providing the final refuge from assault. The tower was constructed of treated timbers, and the Order's sigil flew from the top of pole.

Any cover would be welcome, for madness seemed to grip almost every animal of the forest. Large predators attacked, even though instinct should have sent them miles from such a large gathering. Groups of normally solitary hunters erupted from the grass and were fought off only when almost all were dead. The villagers' accompanying herds of livestock were ignored, their owners the targets of tooth and claw.

The gates were open, and Pianna and her party rode into the fort. It became nearly impossible to move, the numbers of refugees filling the enclosure. Soldiers stood on scaffolding along the walls, runners moving on the elevated paths rather than daring the tangle of people. Many of those seeking shelter inside the walls were woodsmen and loggers. Their glassy faces showing the shock of being driven from their homes. Children ran and played among the tumult with the easy care that youth could bring, while their parents and guardians were too numb to rein them in. Traders and merchants of all descriptions sat with their goods piled high. Pianna resolved to cache such cargoes outside the walls. A group of hunters stood by, their clothing and manner marking them as Cabal minions. They laughed at the crowd, and each shocked face going by provoked a new burst of merriment.

The keys and chains in their stack of gear told the captain they were pit hunters. The Cabal paid well for a fresh flow of creatures from around the continent. Pianna had, in scouting the forest edge, come across the leavings of such beast caravans. Starved and sick animals were abandoned without even the benefit of death. The predators trailing such columns lost their fear of people and associated them with food.

The group noticed her regard and grew silent, then turned and looked in other directions until her attention was diverted. The Order was pledged to protect all peaceable people on the plains, and the Cabal was careful to obey the letter of the law.

Orderlies made their way through the crowd, moving toward the wagons of wounded to conduct them to the healers. Pianna wondered bleakly how many had died on the way to the fort. Her warriors tried vainly to magically heal wounds when the bulk of their training was inflicting them. She was unable to have a healer flown out because of the current crush in the other Order holds.

The captain dismounted, her hand pressing against her steed's side as the unicorn was finally led away. The stables were full of refugees, so the animals were being picketed outside. The griffins screamed, so all could hear their displeasure at being refused their own stalls.

Pianna headed for the gatehouse. The officer in charge of the fort rose to his feet, giving her a salute that she returned absently. A sack of beer lay on the table, and she filled an empty flagon and washed down the dust of the road.

"Sergeant Sumer," she said, her voice raspy from herding a column of refugees, "what news?" She wiped her eyes, clearing away dirt and wondering if the bathhouse was plugged with asylum seekers as well.

"Not much of a change since this morning," the sergeant answered, a long scar down his face created the illusion of a leer. "The refugees are still coming in, and all reports confirm widespread attacks." He turned to the map behind the table, a cluster of pins showing attacks and sightings of animals. It appeared random, and the sergeant tapped the blank spaces representing the forest's interior.

"These attacks might presage an attack by the western tribes," he opinioned. Pianna's snort of disbelief punctured the soldier's theory.

"I see no benefit to the forest folk in arousing our defenses and clearing the villages of hostages against our behavior," she said, reining in the temper which the journey had roused. "The random nature of the attacks mean we are looking everywhere. Whatever is directing these attacks is doing so for no benefit other than destruction." She walked around the desk and considered the map more closely.

"The only pattern these attacks have is that they radiate from the Krosan forest." Pianna thought of the patrols that scoured the edge of the woodlands. "Perhaps the focus of these troubles lies elsewhere." She looked to the southern reaches of the map.

"Is there any word of Lieutenant Kirtar?" she asked, thinking how valuable he and the other aven would be.

"There was a dragon attack which he defeated, and he says he will be back after sweeping the southern sectors." The sergeant's faint tone of distaste reminded Pianna that many considered Kirtar and his bird warriors to be arrogant and abrasive.

"He is your superior officer, and he and his people have power we need." She regretted that most of the lieutenant's people were far to the northeast and insular except for those taking service in the Order. "He should be able to rally the south. I know that he hoped to impress the Cabal and Mer Empire in the pits, but we need him here. Once again she considered the map. The concentration of her forces along the forest was drying up her information sources.

"Maybe Kirtar will discover something in the south," she said finally. "We need to know what is going on, but for now we must protect our own."