The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) (31 page)

Another large figure crashed from the tree line. However, this Ulrog moved from south of the river. Vieri blinked as she recognized the huge Scribe that followed the boy’s group. He was an Ulrog for certain, but Rada had sworn all Scribes, no matter their background, were free from any affiliation in the great struggle. Vieri frowned. She wondered if even the Scribes played a hand in the conspiracy surrounding the boy. This whole business was bound to end badly for the Shan tribe.

The Ulrog pack surrounding the Elf girl froze as the Scribe waded into the shallow river. The group spun in unison and faced the Scribe. They visibly tensed. The huge, gray robed figure approached to within two yards then dropped his hood.

Vieri cursed her positioning. The sound of the flowing river coupled with the distance hampered her ability to hear the exchange below. The Scribe appeared to be directing the Hackles. The Ulrog priest stared at the Scribe then barked orders to his underlings. The Hackles quickly gathered the girl in and fled from the river into the ravine to the North.

The Scribe followed their progress from his position mid river, then turned and reentered the tree line from which he had appeared. Vieri waited a time then stood and slowly stepped from her spot on the cliff. The silken wings snapped open and the Windrider floated to the ravine’s opening below.

Vieri was confused. Her plan for the girl’s quick death had failed. Certainly the girl revealed her identity and affiliation with the boy by this point. She must have told the Hackles that the old man and the boy were within their reach. They would release her and seek out the boy. Perhaps they were unwilling to believe her tale and waited for corroboration.

Whatever the reasoning, Vieri saw her opportunity. The Ulrog held the girl. This situation would satisfy Vieri’s needs as much as the girl’s death.  The Elf girl’s  smaller counterpart was somewhere out there, but Vieri would risk it. She determined to follow the Ulrog into the mountains to ensure they held the girl, then she would finish her plan. Vieri turned from the river and slid in amongst the pines moving North up the ravine.

Had the Windrider remained only a few moments longer, she would have seen a gray haired Zodrian picking his way along the river’s southern edge looking for a suitable crossing.

Cefiz kept one eye on the woods to the north of the river and another on his footing. The river swirled  two yards below but slowed and grew tamer a league East of the campsite. Ahead the river widened and slowly churned around boulders and debris washed in from a northern ravine.

This would certainly be an access point to and from the Scythtar for the Ulrog. The ravine climbed steadily to the heights of the cliffs towering above the Frizgard.

The Guardsman slowly worked his way along the rugged embankment then halted in a clump of thickets just West of the crossing. In the low light he intently surveyed both shorelines, then the river itself. His eyes locked on movement in the middle of the crossing. A boulder rocked gently back and forth, buffeted by the current. Cefiz crept from his cover and moved into the water. It wasn’t a boulder. A large Hackle lay face down in the icy flow. A brightly feathered dart protruded from the thick neck of the beast and the hide around the dart discolored to a purplish black.

Cefiz’s eyes shot up to the northern shoreline. He sensed no movement or sound. If the Ulrog watched him, surely they would have set upon him by now. Cefiz assured himself of his momentary safety, then inspected the crossing.

Tracks were everywhere. Overturned rocks, their slime covered bottoms turned up to the moonlight were strewn about the center of the river. Some of the rocks were rather large. Cefiz found it hard to believe anyone other than an Ulrog’s big clumsy feet could have stumbled through the river and created such disarray.

The dart demonstrated explicit evidence that Lilywynn passed this way. The Guardsman didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he feared the worst. He moved to the southern shore to get a better read on what occurred. There he found the fresh delicate tracks of Lilywynn slowly creeping into the crossing. However, he also found nearly identical tracks from a day or two previous. The tracks were old yet were surprisingly vivid. The person who made these tracks came and went several times over the last few days and appeared to move without a care of discovery. The Windrider.

Once again Cefiz turned his attention to the northern tree line as he made his way across the river to the shore. The embankment was less pronounced here and the wash from the ravine created a sandy shoreline. The Ulrog had entered the crossing from the ravine and dragged Lilywynn ashore. The erratic gate of the delicate footprints showed Lilywynn’s struggles.

Cefiz looked deeper at the signs and again discovered older, almost identical tracks from the Windrider throughout the area. They led into the mountains and out again several times. These tracks also bore the attitude of surety, as if the assassin didn’t care if she were discovered, or held the Ulrog’s blessings for her movements.

Cefiz could only reach one conclusion. The Windrider moved in and out of the Ulrog’s territory with their approval. Perhaps the Windrider met the Ulrog here to help guide her. The Ulrog probably captured and killed Lilywynn then retreated.

Either way, Cefiz settled on one conclusion. The Windrider would make another attempt on Kael’s life, possibly tonight.  The assassin craved the kill herself. Teeg said they never gave up, and this assassin followed her orders. The Windrider was nothing if not thorough and her preparation was something to be admired. Cefiz looked to the south shore where the group’s encampment lay, then to the cliffs rising above the Frizgard. He prayed he wasn’t too late. He prayed the Windrider once again waited on the dead of night to make her assault from the cliffs above.

Nostr stood in a grove of trees on the southern shore of the Frizgard. The Scribe stood impassively watching Cefiz scale the slope of the northern ravine heading to the heights of the Scythtar. The Guardsman struggled over a few steep patches, but within the hour he reached the ravines top and moved into the trees along the cliff line. Nostr turned and hefted a small bundle that lay at his feet over his shoulder. The Ulrog Scribe turned West and headed from the crossing.

Vieri tracked the Ulrog for several leagues into the mountains. The beasts neither posted sentries, nor did they leave Hackles behind to cover their retreat. They were within their own territory and showed no fear. They assumed they captured the assassin who killed their priest and eliminated any threat. Vieri came close enough on several occasions to witness the retreat. The Elf girl was bound and gagged to stop her struggling. This suited Vieri. If the Elf could not talk, she could not reveal her role in bringing the vessel to Izgra.

Vieri turned from her path and moved back toward the river. If the Windrider executed her plan correctly, the vessel would be dead before the Ulrog ever had time to properly question the girl.

CHAPTER 19: FREE FALL

Cefiz heaved from the exertion of his climb. The steep grade proved difficult and even more so with the unsure footing of the broken rock. The cliff top ran East to West into the blackness of the night. No trees grew on the granite surface of the cliff’s ledge. Instead, the pines and spruce huddled thirty yards from the drop-off on slopes rising toward the mountain’s peak.

Cefiz crept along the edge of the cliff trying to hear any sound of danger. This proved nearly impossible. The wind stripped the Guardsman of his ability to hear anything out of the ordinary. He gauged that he traveled far enough West to be approximately due North of his group’s camp. Cefiz turned and looked to the churning ribbon of black and white below. The wind whipped and the moon shadows of the clouds raced across the treetops. Cefiz strained his eyes. There in the distance, on the floor of the plains below, he caught a glimpse of twinkling flame from the camp.

A trio of large boulders lay a few yards from the cliff’s edge, the byproduct of some massive landslide ages ago. The weather scarred their surface and left them cracked and torn. Cefiz wedged himself between their broken sides and hunkered down. If he were right, he need only wait.

Vieri trailed back along the ridgeline for nearly an hour. Finally she reached her destination. The cliff top was the perfect location to access most of the plain below and the wind here was strong. No matter where the vessel’s camp lay on the southern bank, Vieri would easily reach it. The old man and his group would make it easy for her. Their campfires would tell her exactly where to go.

The Windrider crept down the broken slopes above the cliff and surveyed the windswept granite slab. There was still the girl’s comrade to think of, but Vieri was confident the Elves had only intended to scout the river this evening and not the cliffs above.

The Borz girl scrambled down the remainder of the rocky slope and slid to a halt just inside the trees at its base.

Cefiz started from slumber. The journey North had been strenuous and the Guardsman’s last memory was fighting sleep from his eyes.

The noise came from the slopes above. Keeping his movements to a minimum, Cefiz trained his eyes on the stunted pines. There in the dark shadows Cefiz barely discerned the familiar black figure. The assassin hugged a pine trunk and scanned the cliff top before her.  The Guardsman held his breath. She wasn’t close enough yet. If he betrayed himself now, she would disappear.

Slowly the figure crept from the shadows and moved across the open space. With each step he watched her confidence grow. She craned her neck to see the floor of the plains below.

Cefiz smiled to himself. Her plan impressed with. This assassin felt so sure of herself. She knew her target. She guessed correctly that the riverside would remain unguarded. She removed Lilywynn. She held confidence that her task would be completed tonight. Cefiz knew otherwise.

The Windrider closed to within ten yards of the cliff’s edge when the Guardsman rose and stepped from his hiding spot. He trained the crossbow on her and she froze. Once again Cefiz smiled. He stood between the assassin and her usual method of escape. He let her get close, but only close enough so his crossbow was assured its target. For the Windrider to leap from this cliff she would feel the steel of his bolt in her chest first.

“That is far enough, Borz!” called Cefiz over the gusting wind. “The boy will not fall victim to your blade tonight!”

The assassin’s dark brown eyes bore into the lieutenant. Her entire body tensed. Slowly the eyes shifted from Cefiz to the cliff’s edge and back again.

“You are ten yards from the bolt I aim at your chest.” stated Cefiz calmly. “I can assure you that I am an excellent shot with this device. Your first step will be your last.”

The Windrider assessed her situation and accepted her fate. Her muscles relaxed and a slight smile played in her eyes. Slowly her left hand moved toward the top of her head. Cefiz raised the crossbow in warning. The Borz wrapped her fingers around the top of her silken hood and slowly pulled it from her head.

As the hood came free, her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. Cefiz was taken aback by the beauty of something so sinister. The assassin lightly shook her hair from her eyes and laughed.

“You are a thorn to me, Guardsman.” said the assassin. “A thorn I cannot shake.”

“My wish is that all believers continue to be a thorn to you and your kind, assassin!” growled Cefiz.

“Believers!” scoffed the Windrider. “Is that what you call yourselves?! Believers in what? Death? Destruction?”

“Yes, destruction!” snapped Cefiz. “The destruction of what you and your master plan for this world! I have faith that one day we will overcome you.”

“Do not stamp your beliefs with the term ‘faith’, Guardsman!” shouted the assassin with fire in her eyes. “You degrade the idea! Do you honestly believe you are motivated by some twisted faith, or are your actions derived from fear, stupidity and greed? Will Amird the Deceiver reward you for your service with the riches of the spirit, or the riches of the flesh which you so desperately crave!?”

Cefiz remained stony faced, yet questions raced through his mind. What was she talking about? Amird? Who did the Windrider think he was? Was this a last desperate attempt to save herself?

“Don’t talk in riddles, woman!” shouted Cefiz. “You won’t march to Kel Izgra with the head of the boy tonight, or ever!”

“Now you talk in riddles, traitor!” accused the Windrider narrowing her eyes and standing tall. “I care not for your games! I’ve failed my people and accept my death. Do it now so I may be done with you and stare into the eyes of my Creator!”

Cefiz couldn’t hide his confusion. This proud creature spoke like a martyr of Avra. She defied him and challenged him to take her life. A servant of Amird carried no such belief in the afterlife. They greedily clung to this world thinking it all there was for them.

Cefiz heard a clatter up the slope behind the Windrider. His vision shot past the tree line and discerned the hulking shapes of Ulrog Hackles clambering down the rocky incline toward his position. The Windrider followed his stare and locked eyes on the Ulrog. She turned back to Cefiz and the Guardsman recognized shock and fear in her face. Once again her body tensed and she shifted her sight to the cliff’s edge. Cefiz clenched his teeth. His fate was sealed. He would not be able to escape the Ulrog and would find death here on the barren cliffs.  However,  he couldn’t allow their ally, the Windrider, to fly to the camp and kill Kael. He must finish the girl before the Ulrog finished him.

“I thought you proud, Windrider. I guessed you would desire the boy’s death for yourself and would not willingly share it with these foul beasts!” shouted Cefiz. “I must have guessed incorrectly.”

The Ulrog neared the bottom of the slope and moved slowly within the tree line. Cefiz braced himself for their attack but hesitated on killing the Windrider in cold blood. The confusion of their conversation nagged at him.