Only twenty minutes had passed and Braden had collected such a large amount of food it required both men to haul it. Braden took off his cloak, folding it to make a handy tote and filled the garment with his vegetable plunder. Lorik, more affected by the cold, kept his wool cloak close about him, but stuffed his satchel to overflowing. When Braden finally sat down on a fallen tree, Lorik joined him and welcomed the opportunity to catch his breath and relax.
“Lorik,” Braden said, “we need to talk about Garam.”
The tone of his voice sent a chill through Lorik, He cast a questioning glance at the dwarf seated next to him. “What about him?”
“Do not think that he can be trusted,” Braden warned. “This escape, this deliverance from captivity, could never have been accomplished without Lord Dunstan’s approval. No one ever escapes from the Hidden Valley; the realm of Brekken Dahl is too well guarded for us to have left it without trouble.”
“Pardon me, but it seemed that we had our share of trouble. We certainly didn’t walk out with a parade,” Lorik said.
“Lorik,” Braden continued, “in the barracks where we lived, twenty guards stood between us and freedom. Do you think that Garam could have dispatched them without incident?” Braden’s voice quivered with his anxious words as he talked of their escape. “Do you think that your weapons were simply lying around for anyone to pick up? They were in Lord Dunstan’s treasury. And what about that wagon, those clothes, they were not simply random findings. I didn’t want to say anything, because my only hope to get out of that dungeon was to leave with you, but we didn’t leave without the approval of Lord Dunstan.”
“What you’re saying sounds like a conspiracy.” Lorik didn’t want to think that they were duped into some trap, but Braden’s words were persuasive.
“Not one for which you are the prize. No, Lorik, I believe that Garam and Dunstan hope to recover the book. It is the only means of conquering your emperor and I believe Garam is here to ensure that the treasure we chase finds its way back to our realm, probably at any cost.”
As the words sunk into Lorik’s imagination, he was taken with a sense of dread at the situation. “Are you sure… do you have any proof of such a plot?”
“Nothing tangible,” Braden said, “just two hundred years of imprisonment without any success of escaping. I warn you, keep your eyes on him; I’m sure his aim is to possess the book and bring it back to Brekken Dahl. And to that end he will not allow anything to get in his way.” Braden’s keen eyes, deep under his heavy brow, looked intently at the sergeant.
“I will keep a watchful eye on our companion, of that you can be sure.” The sergeant’s voice trailed off as they stood and made their way back to the camp.
****
Aaron walked silently toward the river, accompanied by Garam. His thoughts were miles away, as distant as the southern sea. Again his mind turned to the memory of warmer days and easier times, days when he only knew one pursuit: to become a man of renown in the Royal Guard. Now, however, his desire for personal glory faded into the frozen mist of the river before him. He glanced down at Garam; the dwarf was busily looking through the ice-covered brush on the bank of the raging rapids.
The Hoppe River rushed southward, its torrential waters heading to warmer climes. Massive whitecaps hammered against huge boulders that stood against the current, thundering as they broke upon the stone. The heaving waters flung a heavy mist into the air, covering everything in a thick, frozen blanket, even their garments.
The sky was clear and crisp, with the deepening hues of purple and red spreading out from the western horizon. The sun neared the peaks of the mountains, and cast long dark shadows through the woods. For several hundred paces the two walked along the river bank, hoping to discover some relic from their doomed vessel. Nothing—no packs, no gear, not even the splintered remnants of their shattered little boat—remained to be found. Aaron began to wonder if their efforts were in vain, a foolish attempt to try and recover items permanently lost in the maelstrom. Then, suddenly, Garam shouted over the roar of the river.
Aaron hurried as fast as his cold muscles would allow and looked at the discovery that prompted his companion’s outburst. “What do you make of this, Captain?” Garam’s voice carried the tone of a school instructor who already knew the answer to his own question.
There, clearly imprinted in the frost and snow, were the indications of someone who had clawed out of the river and into the woods beyond. Hand and boot prints were obvious and broken branches showed where someone had grabbed them to climb up the embankment.
“Garam,” Aaron said, dejected. “That is where I pulled myself and Rayn out of the water.” He shook his head as his mind turned again to the private, who now roamed alone in the dark woods. Alive or dead, Aaron did not know and it stung his thoughts. He had lost men in battle, but never in betrayal. In the fading light, Aaron gave one last glance at Rayn’s footprints that disappeared into the forest, and just hung his head.
“Captain,” Garam said, “your young private was building up to this moment. He never intended to go with us to find the Book of Aleth.”
“How can you know that?” Aaron’s discouragement flamed into anger.
“Captain, think about it,” Garam calmly continued. “He never wanted to pursue this course. He questioned your mind in this and would not trust either Braden or myself. Since our escape, his desire had been to return to your capital and inform your emperor of our situation. He didn’t turn against you when you determined to find the lost book. He was never with you. Think about it… why attack you? Why denounce you as a traitor? No, young captain, the private had always intended to leave our company if he could not coerce you to return to the capital.”
Aaron fell to his knees, despair rising in his thoughts. He knew Garam was right, that Rayn had abandoned them. Rayn was opposed to the idea of seeking the book, opposed to anything less than a war against their captors. He looked up, and in the fading light of the day he could see Rayn’s footprints haphazardly rushing through the trees.
Aaron’s determination to recover the book was foremost in his thoughts. And then he realized that he was no longer impeded by his duty to Therion or his oath to the Royal Guard. His heart stirred with a new resolve, a glimmer of freedom like a spark that sets a forest to blaze. Kneeling there, he gazed through the woods. If Rayn was able to make it to North Village, the four of them would need every moment to keep ahead of any potential pursuit. The North Village was only three days away on foot, according to Lorik, and he was certain that Rayn would go there for help. He determined that at first light they would set out.
Standing and brushing the snow from his trousers, Aaron turned to his dwarf companion, a new determination flashed in his eyes. “Garam, I don’t think we are going to find any trace of our equipment. Rayn will send soldiers after us, so we will need to move swiftly. It is only three days to the nearest contingent of troops and, if they’re mounted, they could overtake us before we have a chance to disappear in the wild.”
“Captain,” Garam interjected, “Rayn is aware of our intention to skirt the edges of the Shattered Hills. He would not easily overtake us if we could take a road that he doesn’t know.”
“What are you proposing?” Though he knew Garam was right, Aaron was hesitant about changing his plans.
Garam continued, “There are paths that lead through the Shattered Hills, an underground network that links the entire region. An entrance remains and is not far from here, only two or three days at the most. It will take several days to journey through the labyrinth, and it is a difficult path, but the only ones who are aware of it are the dwarves. Not even the trolls enter into the caverns.”
“Tell me truthfully, why won’t trolls enter?” Aaron was not impressed with the suggestion.
“What you call the Shattered Hills is known to dwarves as the Desolation of Charis. It was an ancient city, long ago destroyed in the Great War, but the underground labyrinth survived. These tunnels were once used by the dwarves to travel unseen from our northern lands to the southern reaches. It is said that the tunnels have been invaded by dark spirits… wraiths, to be exact. The trolls are easily frightened and superstitious creatures, but there is no evidence that these wraiths really exist. The only problem is that I don’t know the tunnels, I’ve never ventured out of Brekken Dahl. Braden has been to the southern realms of our ancient lands, and he might know the way. I just don’t know if we can rely upon his willingness to remain with us.”
“What do you mean?” Aaron questioned.
“Braden is a coward. He is determined to prove himself, but in his heart he will never change… he will remain a coward and will abandon us at our time of deepest need.” Garam’s voice was strained in his effort to speak over the roar of the river, but his tone carried a definite note of alarm.
“Garam,” Aaron responded, “I’ve led countless men who panicked at their first taste of battle. It doesn’t make them a coward. One mistake in a person’s life doesn’t determine his entire course. I am willing to trust him until it is proved otherwise.”
“Very well, Captain. We shall see.” Garam turned his back on Aaron and began hiking toward the encampment.
Aaron followed at some distance, watching the aged, burly dwarf as he moved through the underbrush. His thoughts were on his young private. Three days to North Village would be dangerous for any lone traveler, especially for one who was injured. He feared that Rayn would not survive the journey.
****
The two found their way back to the camp; Braden and Lorik were already waiting for them, dividing up the plundered food for each one to carry. The sun had set beyond the peaks of the Shadow Mountains while long, wispy shadows swayed to the rhythm of a gentle breeze blowing through the pine boughs. The fire snapped and flared with a wonderfully intense heat, warming up the companions and helping to cheer the somber mood that struck the group.
Aaron looked around at his small band. He knew that Lorik would go with him to whatever end, they had faced many conflicts together already. Braden seemed to have developed a kinship with the sergeant, which was encouraging to the captain. The only one whom Aaron was troubled about was Garam. Could he trust this stocky companion? Time would reveal it.
Aaron called the others to him. He looked at his three companions as they gathered around. The fire crackled and small embers drifted through the air, lazy and unconcerned for the troubles that weighed upon Aaron’s heart. “I’ve been reminded that Rayn was fully aware of our plans to cross over the plains north of the Shattered Hills. We must believe that Rayn will betray us to the guards and, ultimately, to the emperor.”
“Sir,” interrupted Lorik, “is this something that we need to concern ourselves with? We will have at least a week’s head start on any pursuit. If he makes it to North Village, he will still have to gather men to come after us. I doubt that he could mount a pursuit soon enough to find us in the wild.”
“You might be right,” Aaron replied, “or it may be that no one will believe his testimony or they will be too disorganized to form a pursuit. He has no insignia declaring him to be of the Royal Guard so he will be hard pressed to solicit help. If that’s the case, we should simply stick with our plan.” Aaron paused to allow any other comment, but none came. “However, I’m convinced that if and when Rayn gets to civilization, he will be able to mount a pursuit. If they do come after us, it would be foolish for us to stay on the same course. Garam has an idea that might provide greater secrecy, if not greater safety.” He looked to Garam to continue.
Garam stood and took a deep breath. “There is a passage through the Shattered Hills that, though it may be dark, will allow us to pass southward without any fear of exposure.”
Lorik immediately spoke, “You have to be out of your mind!” His passionate objection rumbled through the trees. Turning to Aaron he continued, “Captain, I barely made it out of that hateful place. Our men were slaughtered in the Shattered Hills by a gang of trolls. That way can only lead us into trouble.”
Before Aaron could respond Garam spoke again, “There is a passage that leads us through the hills, a passage that no troll has entered. It is an underground network of tunnels and will take us beyond the southern border of the hills.”
“You’re referring to the Desolation of Charis.” Braden spoke with hesitation. Turning to Aaron he continued, “Sir, there are creatures that live in the ancient catacombs that will cause the heartiest warrior to fear! For hundreds of years, now, the ancient city was forbidden. I would rather face an armed squad of malicious trolls than attempt to navigate that ancient path.” His eyes narrowed under his furrowed brow as he glared at Garam. He turned to face Aaron and his expression softened as he spoke, “Captain, I will follow you, but I hope you decide against those catacombs.”
“Captain, I’ve been in those hills. Even if there is a way under them, I don’t see how we will make it to the entrance,” Lorik spoke
Aaron considered the comments. “I can understand your hesitation. However, I believe that speed and secrecy are imperative. We must reach the Kanton Mountains and soon. I have made up my mind to allow Garam to lead us into this underground passage, and avoid all suspicious eyes as long as possible. This will give us five days where we drop out of sight. If Rayn betrays us, I want him searching for us where we are not. We will go to the Shattered Hills.” Aaron’s tone allowed for no further discussion, and the other three companions did not offer another alternative.
“Captain,” Lorik responded, his hands crossed over his chest. “If that is your command I will follow you to the end of this journey. You’ve certainly earned my trust over these many years.”
“Well, you’ve not earned a penny from me,” Braden interjected, “but you’ll need someone with common sense on this little escapade… so you can count me in.”
“All right, Captain,” responded Garam, “we’re a team. Now we just need to find an entrance into the underground passages.”