The Fists of Panaria

By John Lasiter III

Chapter 15

“We have a plan,” stated Ahren. “It will not be easy. It will take us off the road though.” She took them all in with a glance. “We will follow a narrow woodsman’s track almost due east. It leads through heavily forested land between here and Cern. We will bypass the town altogether, being somewhat south of the populated areas. We should make Alquabar by late today if we push hard. We still have a small cushion if we get delayed.” She eyed each in turn. “Let us hope we do not get delayed.” She pointed to the map again. “East of Cern is some rocky terrain that Merrick assures me has a wide enough track to accommodate our horses. We will attempt this crossing. The track drops us out a mile from the south gate of Albaquar. Any questions?”

No one answered, but each was hastily rechecking gear and arms. Lorry was buckling his bracers onto his forearms. He had a grim look to him, as did the whole of the company. Wynethra, eyes dry now, watched silently from her wooden bridge. Lorry paused once atop his animal and held Wynethra’s eyes. He nodded and smiled grimly before turning his mount. The remains of the Fist mounted swiftly and at Ahren’s command, rode quietly to the road. Fingers looked each way, as did Lorry. Each looked to one another as they spied no lurkers here. Ahren ordered them to move and the small troop crossed the Post Road and made for the trees upon the other side. A quarter-glass later Ahren had the track and had deployed Fingers as point once more. They moved swiftly trotting or galloping or walking as the track would allow. Perhaps two glasses had passed when Ahren identified the trail marker Merrick had said would denote the route to Cern. She kept going, intending to push quickly on.

Noon was quickly upon them, and the horses were again lathered and huffing. Toady’s mount had taken to snorting and tossing its head in protest. Ahren called for a quick halt to rest. The sky was low, and the slate colored roof of the sky let fall wet flakes heavy with moisture. The wind began to blow out of the north, driving flakes of frozen white into every opening in their cloaks. The trees had thinned some when they had passed south of Cern. But the ground began to fold and jut forth rocky outcroppings. The trail wound through these easily enough, but visibility was beginning to worry Fingers and Lorry.

“We have been set up for an ambush, Lorry,” complained Fingers when the two were scouting ahead. “I don’t think I trust that Merrick chap.” He eyed Lorry meaningfully. Lorry had been thinking much along those lines. Merrick was disciplined in the arts, for Lorry had not been able to read him so well. Wynethra had told him Merrick had joined her for study months ago, and was on good terms with her and the surrounding community. Lorry began to worry. He had not been fully himself, and his wits uncollected in the Grove. He had not even given proper homage to his Mistress. Well, Wynn could take care of herself. He hoped. Even as he forced down his worries about the woman, he stiffened. Fingers spied him flinching.

“What is it, Lorry?” When Lorry simply looked around without comment, Fingers conjured his two longknives. “I’ll tell the others.”

“No,” whispered Lorry. “It’s already too late. Were being hunted by something. It’s familiar, but it’s eluding me…” The hard-eyed man suddenly jerked around to their right. Fingers followed his companion’s quick look. On a rock outcropping, just within bow’s range, was a inky blot in the otherwise gray surroundings. It was unrelieved darkness save a vicious snarl of white teeth and eyes glowing like hearth-coals.

“What the fuck is that?” Fingers voice had raised in pitch, terror gripping his throat and heart. The black beast raised its head and throated a blood-curdling howl. It was immediately answered by four more. “Cor’s balls, we’re surrounded!”

“Warriors of Panar! To me! Fly!” The trailing group blazed forward, the horses screaming in fear. As the group joined them, Lorry and Fingers spurred their mounts forward. Lorry watched the first beast loping to intercept them. He hoped his strength could hold. Five Nightwolves would test him in peak shape. In his current condition, the situation was dire. The group caromed through the narrow passages between boulder hillocks, horses and riders bumping frequently in terror in the close quarters.

“Find open ground!” Lorry yelled to Ahren. The blonde soldier hove left and then right around boulders, intent on finding a defensible position. The thudding of hooves was insignificant next to the rushing thrum of blood in their ears.

“There is no open ground here!” she screamed back, fear thinning her voice. Her braid whipped this way and that as she searched vainly for a sizeable hill, a wide open piece of terrain, anything. But to no avail.

Lorry gathered his will. He could feel the ring of evil beasts closing in like a noose. There were two in front of his fleeing comrades. In that instant he made the decision that he knew would mean his very life. He urged his mount faster and the horse shouldered its way past his companions at a dead run. He put some distance in front of the group before summoning power from the surrounding rock. He drew it until he was quaking under the strain. The ‘Wolves in front slowed, sensing the threat. Being no natural creature, they could feel the impending threat. Lorry released two great sheets of sparkling emerald lightning. One struck the Alpha ‘Wolf squarely in the chest and burned a hole clear through its carcass. Steam hissed as flesh was vaporized and the animal collapsed in a heap of carrion in mid-stride. The second sheet cut through the second ‘Wolf just behind the ribcage and the beast was severed cleanly in half, its respective parts tumbling to a stop in a smoking heap. Fingers reigned up beside him, as did Ahren and Teniel.

Lorry nearly collapsed under the strain. Dimly, he was aware of the pause he had caused in the beasts. “Go! Fly! I will hold them. You must get through!” His shout Spurred Ahren on. But Fingers remained, as did Teniel. “Get the hell outta here!” cried Lorry in fury. Ahren, Toady and Quiet instantly passed out of view around a boulder.

“I choose my own path, Lorry!” hissed the muscular woman. She unlimbered her bow and let fly as a Nightwolf leapt from the top of a nearby pile of granite. The shaft transfixed the beast’s throat, but its momentum was unabated. The heavy creature, nearly as big as the horse upon which she rode, raked into the flesh of both animal and rider’s leg. Teneil screamed, but had the presence of mind to draw dagger and bury it in the creature’s skull. It howled as its claws fell from the horse and it pulled the mount down in a rain of blood and thrashing. Teneil disappeared in the frantic mass of horse and black beast.

Lorry Picked out the remaining beasts and, to make sure he had their attention, sent much weaker bolts at each. Fingers ducked as emerald light dazzled his eyes, radiating out in two directions and beyond his field of vision. Lorry slid gracelessly from his saddle, nearly passing out. He kept his feet only by holding onto his stirrups. Two enraged howls bracketed Fingers, who dismounted immediately. He shed his cloak and freed up his arms for better movement. He saw the last twitch of the enormous tail of the slain beast that had taken Teneil down. It was enormous. His eyes sought Lorry’s.

“I salute you, comrade,” he said soberly. “May we meet again in another life.”

Lorry merely nodded as he looked quickly around. They were in a low depression which meant the two remaining beasts could come from anywhere. He pushed his senses out to locate them. “Behind you!” he cried.

A Nightwolf bounded atop the rocks behind Fingers, its claws resting above his head. Fingers sighed and set his teeth. His blades began an intricate pattern in defense. The Wolves ears went flat and a growl rumbled from between its bared fangs.

“Well, come on you sonovabitch!” cried Fingers. The horses reared in terror and bolted. As they passed between two head-high boulders, the second beast arrived and pounced on them. Lorry’s mount went down with the sickening snap of bone and ripping terror. Fingers mount bolted, leaving behind a significant weight of clawed flesh. Lorry doubted the thing would make it far. It would bleed to death.

The second Nightwolf called to its mate and the two yowled angrily. Lorry could barely stand. He grasped the amulet at his chest. Well, he thought, the time is upon me.

Fingers and Lorry backed into one another. Lorry summoned the final ball of energy he could handle. Nearly in that same instant Finger’s knives flashed and took the nearest beast in the shoulder and the neck. It shook its body as it yowled and a blade came free, one remained. Fingers drew his stabbing sword and his poniard.

“It is time,” was all Lorry said as he gritted his teeth and let the energy loose.