The Dawning of Power

Chapter 7

Beyond the civilized lands exist wild places, inhabited by creatures both curious and deadly. -Rianna Goresh, trapper

It didn't take long for the group to gather their belongings since none of them had allowed themselves to get comfortable. At the end of the upstairs hall, Orman waited. He took them through a door that led to another stairwell. "Watch your heads," he said as he climbed.

The roof sloped down on both sides, and the attic ceiling was not high enough for even Catrin to stand straight. Orman opened a massive wooden chest that sat in a corner and took out the old blankets that filled it. After fighting with it for a tense moment, he removed the bottom of the chest, revealing a hidden shaft with a ladder descending in to the darkness.

"Down ya go," he said.

Strom went down first since he knew the way, and he lit a torch that waited below.

"I need you to send a message," Brother Vaughn said to Orman before he left. "I need a ship where foxes roost. You know who to contact."

Orman nodded.

Catrin waited until only she, Benjin, and Orman remained in the attic. "Thank you for all you've done. Good-bye, Orman," she said as Benjin urged her into the shaft.

The tunnel below was dark and cold and smelled like nothing else. Walls of rough stone and dirt cut a meandering course, but the tunnel was relatively short. At the end, another ladder led to a hatch that was already open. Looking down were the faces of the two stable boys, and their visible anxiety demanded haste.

"Thanks, Wilmer, Jidan; you've done well," Brother Vaughn said as he climbed from the tunnel.

Catrin followed and emerged in the feed room behind the stables. In the pasturelands beyond, their horses waited, saddled and loaded.

"By the gods, are those pyre-orchids?" Brother Vaughn asked.

"Yes," Catrin said. "We found them on our way, and Benjin insisted we harvest them."

"Bless him, but we won't have the time to dry them properly. They'll surely mold, and I cannot let such a treasure go to waste. Is Mirta still the healer in these parts?" he asked Wilmer, who nodded, mute. "Take these to her. It's very important. She'll know what to do. Understand?"

The boys nodded and quickly unloaded the pyre-orchids. Brother Vaughn went to one of the bundles and removed a single orchid. After marveling at its beauty for a brief moment, he carefully tore the delicate petals off, one by one, and pressed them into a book he retrieved from his pack.

After reaching into her purse, Catrin tossed each boy a gold coin then waved good-bye. The boys talked excitedly about how they would spend their new fortune.

Whether by design or luck, the evergreen trees lining the pasture gave them perfect cover during their escape; Catrin suspected it was by design. Riding double, they had to move more slowly, but they still managed to cover a lot of ground before nightfall. No pursuers revealed themselves, but that didn't mean they weren't there, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Constantly alert, Catrin scanned the trees around her as they moved through lightly forested foothills.

"We'll be heading north and west through the forest for most of the way," Brother Vaughn said.

"Where are we going?" Chase asked.

"To my ancestral home. It was abandoned generations ago, but I know the way."

The northern forests were untouched by fire, and Catrin reveled in the glory of the undisturbed land. Concentrating as hard as she could, she tried to hear the dryads. The song she heard was so soft, she wondered if she were imagining it, but its incredible beauty and complexity argued otherwise.

When they camped for the night, she went to her bedroll early and spent hours listening to the song of nature. The next day brought warm, gentle breezes that stirred the turning leaves. Many succumbed to the call of the wind and drifted to the forest floor below, and the group rode through a rain of color.

With all the movement, it was difficult to remain watchful, but Catrin spotted a dark shape moving through the trees ahead, and she held up her fist to call a halt. In a moment, she knew it was already too late for stealth. The dark shape stopped, and a low whistle split the air.

"They've seen us," Benjin said, and the pounding of hooves gave additional proof. "There's no time to run. Arm yourselves."

Catrin pulled her staff from the stirrup. Mounted men, in gear similar to that of the elite troops they had encountered in the past, charged through the trees. Benjin and the others formed a protective ring around Catrin. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne dismounted, so passengers would not hinder those who rode.

Chase made first contact with the enemy when he stepped from behind a tree and used a fallen branch to unhorse one of the Zjhon. Torn from the sight by a rider bearing down on those who surrounded her, Catrin wished she had a bow. Instead, she drew her belt knife and threw. It struck the soldier's helmet but did little besides distract him. The distraction was enough for Benjin, though, and he landed a killing strike.

More riders circled and scored hits of their own. Samda was pulled from his horse, and only Osbourne's intervention kept him from being killed. In saving Samda, though, Osbourne turned his back on another rider. Samda's shout warned him, and he ducked just in time, getting only a slice across his face.

Samda grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the eyes of the rider's mount as he charged past. Blinded, the horse fought his rider, and they went down when the horse tripped on a rotting stump. Chase appeared a moment later on a Zjhon horse, which matched strides with the horse beside him. Shouting a battle cry, he leaped from the saddle and grappled with the other man, pulling him to the ground, but the soldier's boot caught in the stirrup, and his mount dragged him. Chase held on for a moment but then let the panicking horse finish off the soldier.

Riders passed so quickly and in so many directions, Catrin could not keep track of where all the attackers were. Three men rode in close and occupied Benjin, Chase, and Brother Vaughn. Catrin winced at every blow they took. Unwilling to sit idly by while her companions fought, she opened herself to the power. Like drawing a deep breath before diving into the water, she inhaled the energy and held it within herself until she felt she might explode. The sound of hoofbeats from behind said she would have her chance to fight.

Turning just as the soldier closed the gap, Catrin held her staff high and prepared to unleash her stored energy. He pulled his sword back for a mighty swing, and time seemed to slow as it arced back toward her, slicing the air and singing the song of death. Before it reached her, though, Samda shouted her name, and time seemed to accelerate. Catrin opened her mouth to shout, but she had not even formed the words when Samda jumped between her and the blade.

He crumpled to the ground soundlessly, the soldier's sword protruding from his chest, and Catrin was so shocked that she failed to deliver her own attack. Deprived of his sword, the soldier punched Catrin in the face as he rode by and unhorsed her. She tried to brace herself but still hit the ground hard. Her horse pranced around her, and she had to roll to keep from being trampled.

Chase pulled her from the ground. "We're in trouble," he said, but then he had to defend himself as the attack raged on.

In a desperate attempt to protect her party, Catrin drew, once again, on the energy around her but could not focus, and the energy refused to do her bidding. After a desperate effort, the floodgates opened, and the river of power washed over her, unchecked. Sucking in deep breaths, she struggled to keep her footing lest she be swept away.

Three riders wheeled in unison and weaved through the trees as they charged. One flew from his saddle when Strom released the branch he'd been holding back; it struck the soldier across his nose with a crunch. Osbourne released the branch he'd been holding but to little effect; the leaves just raked against his target's face.

When Brother Vaughn ran with astonishing speed toward the momentarily stunned soldier's charging mount, Catrin shouted, but he did not hear. The thought of seeing him run down tore at her heart, but to her surprise, he sprang at the horse's head and latched onto the bridle. Using his weight, he brought the animal's head down until he touched the ground; then he rolled clear. The horse, carried by its momentum, flipped forward and sent its rider crashing into a nearby tree. The horse pulled itself from the ground and disappeared into the trees.

The last soldier continued forward, and Benjin rode to meet him. Overwhelmed with power, Catrin tried desperately to find a way to release it. The song of the dryads grew stronger in her mind, and she could feel their presence as they bolstered and guided her. With a terrified shriek, she cast out her energy, trying to connect it with the soldier. Just as his sword arced toward Benjin, a visible tendril of energy reached out to him. With a blinding light and a sharp crack, her energy connected with him and flowed violently between them.

The soldier was thrown from his horse and landed, smoking, on the ground. Benjin moved in to finish him off. Catrin, though, felt as if she had been the one struck, and she crumpled to the ground. Chase arrived at her side. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No. I don't think so. Samda?"

"I'm sorry, Cat. He's gone."

Lowering her head to cry, Catrin vented her impotent rage and sorrow. Nothing she could do would bring him back, but that didn't lessen her anguish, guilt, or her poignant sense of loss, which had become all too familiar. Only the need to tend to the wounded kept depression from claiming her.

Benjin had several deep wounds, and Catrin helped Brother Vaughn close and bandage them as best he could. Chase walked with a limp, and Osbourne's face was covered in drying blood, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Using a damp cloth, Catrin wiped the blood from his eyes.

"I tried to save him, Cat. I tried so hard. I'm sorry I failed."

"You did the best you could do, and you helped save all of us that live. Samda gave his life for me, and there was nothing any of us could've done to stop him," she said.

"He kept his word," Brother Vaughn said as he pulled a blanket over Samda. "It may not make up for everything he did, but Samda died an honorable death. People can indeed change. I underestimated him."

Still wary, they gathered the Zjhon horses still in the area, giving each of them their own mount. Making better time, they rode in somber silence. Samda's body, tied to the saddle of a Zjhon horse, was a painful reminder of the dangers they faced and the losses they had suffered.

When they reached a field dotted with small mounds that were laid out in an orderly fashion, Brother Vaughn stopped, motioned for everyone else to remain where they were, and walked into the field. For a few moments, he stood silent, but then he turned back to them, "Here lie my ancestors. Samda has earned the right to lie with them."

Though he had once been an enemy, he had also been a friend and protector. With hearts encumbered by grief, sadness, and regret, they laid Samda to rest. Before they left the burial mounds behind, Catrin found an acorn and planted it near where Samda lay, so that, from his death, new life could spring.

Mirta bent over little Becka, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Becka breathed shallow, ragged breaths, and Mirta could do nothing to help her. Becka was among the first, but it would spread, and Mirta began to cry, certain what she saw was the beginning of a plague.

As she wiped her tears, the bell rang, and she moved to the front of her shop, most of which was serving as a temporary sick house. When she saw two young boys, her heart sank. Would they, too, succumb?

"Miss Mirta?" one boy said meekly. "We have something for you, but it's kind of big. Where d'ya want it?"

"I don't have time for tricks today, boys," Mirta said. "I'm not expecting anything, and I don't have any room. If you're not sick, then run along."

"But, Miss Mirta, won't you at least look? The man said you'd want it. I can't remember what he called it. Fire lily? No, that wasn't it."

"Pyre-orchid?" Mirta asked, astonished, but her feet were already taking her through the door. There, on a simple wood cart, sat enough pyre-orchids to treat half the Greatland, but they were starting to rot. "Thank the gods! You must help me get this inside right now. You're Orman's boys, aren't ya?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Wilmer and this is my brother, Jidan."

"Good," Mirta said. "Your father won't mind me borrowing you for the day. Once we have them unloaded, I'll send one of you back with a message for him."

"Yes, ma'am," Wilmer said.

"There isn't much left," Brother Vaughn said as they rode into a secluded valley clogged with underbrush. Here and there, though, evidence of what had once been a glorious home could still be found. Fluted columns and crumbling walls struggled for existence as the land reclaimed them. "Be watchful. There are unmarked wells and other dangers beneath the growth."

Beyond the valley waited the sea, and the waves called to Catrin like an old friend. Her time aboard the Slippery Eel had been an experience she would never forget, and though she would never have called herself a sailor, a part of her was at home on the seas.

"A ship should meet us here soon," Brother Vaughn said. "Until then, we wait." When they reached an area relatively free of underbrush, he led them to a rough archway at the base of the mountains. Beyond the archway was a natural chamber large enough to hold them and their mounts. "This cavern was once used for storage, but it should serve us well. There is a river nearby where we can fish."

His mention of fish reminded everyone of their hunger. Brother Vaughn led Catrin, Chase, and Strom to a likely fishing hole. They did their best to fish without the proper gear, but their efforts yielded only two small fish before nightfall. On the walk back, though, Brother Vaughn gathered tubers and roots he said would make for a fine stew. It was not the best meal any of them had ever eaten, but it greatly improved the mood.

Chase constructed a wall of branches to cover the archway, and they huddled around a low fire as the evening chill set in.

"I must thank you again, Catrin," Brother Vaughn said, "for having the courage to locate the library at Ohmahold. The treasures within have provided inspiration for every member of the order, and I look forward to sharing much of what I've learned with the farmers and craftsmen of the world. Gustad has examined some of the weapons and armor and claims to have learned more about metalworking in one day than he had his whole life."

"You should see the swords, Cat," Strom said. "The metal shimmers and Gustad said one sword had been folded more than a thousand times. Milo let us look at it with his lenses, and you could actually see it!" Strom said.

"Yeah, and those new lenses came from things Milo found in the library," Osbourne added.

"I'm glad," Catrin said. "Did you find anything to help me?"

"I assembled a team of trusted colleagues," Brother Vaughn said. "We found as much as we could. It was distressingly little, and much of it was difficult to understand, but I'll do my best to help you. We found a text written in the oldest form of High Script, and then we found a more recent copy that had been translated. Using this text, we have been able to translate much more of Om'Sa.

"As I told you before, the first men fled the Firstland because they were losing the war against the Gholgi. Before the war, we believe man used the Gholgi much as we use horses for transportation. The references we've found indicate that they were intelligent creatures, and they learned fast. When they had gained a certain level of understanding, they revolted. The tales of the carnage are horrifying."

"You don't think the Gholgi are still there, do you? I mean, if they are, won't they just kill Belegra and his men?" Osbourne asked.

"We don't know. I'd never heard of them before translating Om'Sa, but I must assume they still exist."

"Hopefully, if any are still there when we get there, they will have forgotten what the first men taught them. Maybe they'll be afraid of us," Osbourne said.

"I'm not sure what to hope for," Catrin said.

"Many of the things we learned are of no consequence here," Brother Vaughn continued. "But Sister Annora found some things that might be helpful. Though I'm not certain I'll get it right, I'll try one with you," Brother Vaughn said, looking at Catrin.

"What do you need me to do?"

"If everyone else could remain quiet for a few moments, please. Catrin, I want you to stare straight ahead and remember exactly what you see, every detail. Then I want you to close your eyes and picture exactly what you saw."

"I see it."

"Now open your eyes. Does it look any different?"

"No. Is it supposed to look different?" she asked, but he did not answer.

"I want you to close your eyes again, and picture exactly what you saw. Do you see it?"

"I do."

"Now I want you to keep your eyes closed, and open this one," he said, and he smacked her hard on the forehead. Catrin sat back from the surprise and the impact, her eyes still squeezed shut, but it was as if someone had thrown open the shutters; a world of energy was revealed to her. She could see everything around her with her eyes shut, but it all looked very different. Rather than seeing colors or texture, she saw ever-moving patterns of energy both intricate and beautiful.

Around each person's wounds, she saw disturbances in the energy fields and areas where nothing moved at all. Oddly she saw a subtle but similar disturbance around Brother Vaughn's ears and head.

"Do you have trouble hearing?"

"Yes. Sometimes I do. At times I get a terrible ringing in my ears. How can you tell?"

"I see disturbances in your energy field."

"It worked?"

"Yes. It worked," Catrin said, and as she opened her eyes, her new vision overlaid what her eyes saw. Though initially disorienting, the combined senses gave her a much clearer picture of her companions' health. When Benjin turned, she saw the injury in his shoulder that pained him so much, old as it was. The more she looked with her new senses, the more natural they became, until she could no longer imagine life without them. Colors were richer and more vivid. Scents on the breeze told stories, and even the caress of that wind felt more personal.

"I'm so very happy," Brother Vaughn said, beaming. "I didn't think it was going to do anything, and then I would've looked quite the fool, smacking you in the forehead and all. Do you see anything else? Is there anything else you can do with your new sight?"

"I can see the disturbances caused by all of your wounds, and I can sense your overall well-being much more acutely now, but I'm not certain there is anything I can do with it besides maybe identify illnesses."

"Give it time," Benjin said. "Some use will present itself."

"Well said," Brother Vaughn added.

"Is there anything else you could teach her?" Osbourne asked, excited by their success.

"There were two more things we could try. Do you feel up to trying something else?"

"I do."

"Are you gonna smack her again?" Strom asked. "I'd like to see that again."

Catrin stuck her tongue out at him and closed her eyes.

"I want you to put your ear to the ground and tell me what you hear. Cover your other ear if that helps."

Catrin did as he instructed. "I think I hear my own heartbeat and a hollow echo."

"Now I want you to listen for words," Brother Vaughn said. "Do you hear a song or melody?"

"I have heard songs of nature, but I don't hear anything like that now. No."

"Try asking a question."

"Ask the ground a question?" Strom snorted, but Chase shushed him.

"Will a ship come for us?" Catrin asked. There was no response, nothing at all. "I don't hear anything."

"Ah well, I suppose it was worth a try," Brother Vaughn said, clearly disappointed.

"What else can you try?" Osbourne asked, his enthusiasm unabated. "C'mon, Cat, you're good at this kind of thing. You can do it."

"The last exercise was said to be the one least often achieved, but I am willing to try if Catrin is."

"I can try one more."

"We have to go outside for this one. Pick any tree that calls out to you."

"Trees call out to people?" Strom asked; Osbourne elbowed him in the ribs.

Catrin ignored him and walked through the trees, listening for the slightest contact. With her new vision, she saw energy fields around the trees and just about everything else. A nearby tree showed signs of disease, its leaves riddled with spots; most had already fallen off. "This one."

"Put your arms around it and pull yourself close. Don't turn your head to the side; look straight into the tree and press your nose and lips against the bark."

"You want her to hug and kiss a tree?"

"Shut up, Strom!" everyone else said in unison.

Catrin didn't let it bother her, she would do almost anything to increase her powers, and that realization was exhilarating as well as frightening. Approaching the tree, she reached out her arms and embraced it. Pressing her face against the jagged bark, she waited. Nothing happened.

"I don't feel anything," she said, her voice muffled against the bark of the tree. Disappointment coursed through her.

"I'm sorry. That's all the ancient druid text said to do. I don't know anything else to try."

"This, too, was worth trying," she said, still hugging the tree. "Thank you, Brother Vaughn. Thank you, tree." Just as she was about to pull away, she heard a faint melody. Pressing her face harder against the tree, it grew louder and clearer. Harder she pressed and louder it grew.

"Catrin?" she heard someone ask, but she ignored him and everything else her ears heard; she listened, instead, with her heart. The melody grew louder and took on more intensity. The bark her face was pressed against began to feel warm and soft, and slowly her face slid forward, into the tree. It was a bizarre sensation, but she did not feel threatened; instead she felt like an honored guest.

Before her third eye, a figure materialized. Childlike in build, the figure had a beautiful face, full of wisdom and the serenity of ages. "Greetings, heart of the land."

"Greetings, tree mother," Catrin replied, unsure where the words had come from. Like the echoes of a distant past, she felt as if she had done this before; it felt natural and right.

"It has been so long since your kind has spoken to us. I suppose we stopped listening."

"The knowledge was lost," Catrin said. "It was only recently rediscovered."

"Speaking to you makes me weary. I am so very tired."

"I see a disturbance in your energy. Can I help you?"

"Thank you, heart of the land. You are kind, but it has been so long, I don't remember how. I've forgotten the old songs. But I'll try."

Wrapping Catrin in a warm embrace, the dryad began to sing. Her energy flowed against Catrin's, and slowly they began to merge. From deep in Catrin's mind, a new melody came, playing harmony to that of the dryad. Together they sang until their energy vibrated and undulated. Like dark spots in the dryad's aura, the disturbances swirled and coalesced, but the melody seemed to vibrate them apart, and Catrin began to focus on them. Some she took into herself, trying to make order from chaos. A feeling of nausea and weariness overwhelmed her, and she thought she might lose consciousness.

"You are tired, heart of the land. You must go now, but I thank you. I send you away with a gift. Live well, heart of the land. Live well."

In the next moment, Catrin was back in her body and the bark was biting into her flesh. She pulled away and steadied herself; her legs wobbled and shook. "I don't know your name. Please, tell me your name," she said, and in the back of her mind she heard a voice whisper: Shirlafawna.

"Are you well? Catrin! Talk to me!" Chase said.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired," she said, but then she gasped. From behind each tree peeked a dryad in their physical forms, and they greeted Catrin as friends. Shirlafawna had given her a glorious gift indeed. Looking at Shirlafawna's tree, Catrin sensed the energy field recovering even if her eyes still saw disease; her senses showed a return to health; the physical would follow. Somehow, that she knew. Despite her exhilaration, she was truly weary, and she returned to the cavern to rest.