The Time Before

Norral : Preparations

Chapter 18: Preparations


The Elders were connected by that pulsing green tendril. Eyes were closed, lips all moving as one.

Shift.

I'm connected by a pulsing green tendril with the elders sat around me. Their strange, unified, voice drifted through my head.

Shift.

I cower in fear before them, naked and covered in twisted injuries, begging not to be sent back to the Teachers.

Shift.

I stand over them all as they bow to my feet. With contempt I lash out with a kick and laugh as Setundor takes the full force of my booted foot in the face. He collapses to the floor, blood gushing from the remains of a nose.

~

I sat up drenched in sweat and with the echoes of someone screaming still ringing in my ears. Had that come from me? Memories of the strange dreams swept through me. "Nightmares," I corrected in a near whisper. "Some were definately nightmares." One memory stood out, Setundor, a name I didn't recognise, but the face! That ruined face had been the... Leader's!

Pushing aside the blankets, I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. I splashed water over my face from a pitcher in the corner and hurried through a quick wash. I would have warmed the water with just a thought, but the chill was refreshing and helped wake me up. Clearly exhaustion had marred my sleep and was responsible for my dreams I told myself. None of it was real, just the aftermath of the past few days playing tricks on my mind.

I dressed quickly and passed through the curtained doorway to my study. Basic though the room was, it was luxury I had seen little of since joining the Chosen. Lower than a Squadleader meant a tent shared with two others, if you were lucky. The rest were packed into dorms, little more than sheds, with twenty or more inside. I had spent over a year in a dorm and nearly three in a tent. Now I had these two rooms all to myself. I settled down on the padded chair at the desk and began working through the collection of scrolls I'd received the night before.

The first I glanced at was a detailed a map that stretched from the camp to the western edge of the capital. If the scale was accurate then it was over 60 leagues as the raven flies, and probably half as much again by the paths. We'd need horses to make progress at any speed, and then it'd still take nearly two weeks with a clear run.

The next scroll I immediately dismissed. It was a list of spare Chosen available but I'd been told I could take anyone and I'd already decided who I wanted. Kewor would be on his way back from Grenton Bridge in a few days, and I knew the gruff Chosen would jump at the chance to leave again straight away - he was still in the dorms. My second choice, Margn, had been quick with sparkbolts that had torn through the soldiers at the bridge, as well as solid with a shield, but it was his tracking skills I wanted. He had been a part of my squad that had helped bring the captive back, and had been drained completely a few miles from camp. Hopefully he was making a recovery in the healers tent by now.

The third scroll was sealed with dark wax which I cracked with a thumb. Inside was a short, blunt, message written in a flowing script. I knew all the scribes' hands from long experience, but this one I didn't recognise. I would have bet my last coin that one of the Elders had written it, I doubted they wanted a scribe knowing the contents.

"Once in Sosulv, proceed to the inn called 'The Flying Footman' and take a room for three nights. Stay away from the common room until the third evening and then enter and make sure to sit in the north corner. You will be approached by someone who will introduce themselves as 'A night watchman' to which you will reply 'I would take a walk in the night'. Follow their instructions."

Precise enough, but it galled that I wasn't trusted with the full information straight away, and that I wouldn't be in charge once in the Capital. Such secrecy did hint at the true importance of these artefacts though, and if I wasn't completely placated, it helped a little. I had over 300 miles to travel and I could use that time to tie Margn and Kewor to me. I intended to have them jumping before I so much as thought frog, and willing to skin their own mothers on my whim.

The final scroll concerned recruitment. It included what to look out for, how to test a potential's strength in those too young to manifest, and how to approach them. I had put little thought into how I might go about finding any potentials, but there was plenty of time on the journey for that.

A growl in my stomach announced my hunger and put paid to any more planning. I had eaten little since leaving to attack the bridge, and nothing in the last day. I left to find something to break my fast, emerging into the grey light of early dawn to find a surprising number of people around and already busy. Groups of two or three could be seen stood together talking in low voices. No doubt the death of five Chosen had circulated twice already. As I walked through the camp I heard snippits of conversation that confirmed my thought.

"...I've been saying for months that we should always be shielded."

"...soon as I get a glimpse of a whore-spawned Shokun I'll..."

"...heard that they're going to double up some of the squads."

Much was speculation, along with many threats of revenge, but a tinge of worry seemed to weave through much of the talk. The Elders had been correct. The first death, however it was achieved, would damage morale and it had.

~

Coincidence brought me close to the Healer's tent, and I ducked under the tent opening, pushing aside my hunger for now. It was just a tent, but huge, almost twice the size of a dorm, although no less crowded. A half dozen herb-women, wearing the large skirts and dark blouses that identified their profession, darted about between the beds. Occassionally one would reach in to the large leather beltpouches they all wore to pull out some bottle, packet or small bundle. A little further down a Chosen walked from bed to bed, tailed behind by an Initiate observing him as he placed hands on the head of each patient. I headed towards them.

"Morning Torra."

The older Chosen removed his hands from someone so wrapped in cotton strips I couldn't tell if it were man or woman, and stepped away from the bed. His face was creased with age, and his hair all but gone; completely white where it remained. Sharp blue eyes belied his age and they fixed on me with an irritated stare.

"Hmph," he grunted. "Tis morning already is it? Time shifts quick when I 'av over half an Eraser squad in 'ere moaning and wailing all night long." His look left no doubt that he blamed me entirely. I ignored it.

"How they shaping up?"

"Hmph, as well as can be expected I suppose: One's began finger twitching, you'll likely lose him. The others just need rest and food. Nothing more I can do for 'em."

I couldn't supress a wince. "Do you have a name for him?" No need to say whom I meant by him.

Torra looked blank and waved away the question, but the Initiate peaked around his mentor and answered instead.

"Er..Teron Tu'dir."

A flash of sympathy for the fate of the fire specialist was burnt up with contempt at the waste. Anyone who allowed themselves to become Emflikar deserved what they got. Suddenly an idea bloomed in my mind and I fought to suppress my sudden excitement.

"Can I see him?"

Torra shrugged, "Olver 'ere will show you 'im, if you want. I'm busy, I don't have time to be flapping my tongue over something done and done." As if to prove his word he stalked past me and laid hands on the next patient.

"If you'll follow me Chosen," the Initiate murmured.

He led me to the far end of the tent and then ducked through a curtain that I hadn't seen. I followed and found even more beds in a section almost half the size of the first. A quick glance around the beds here showed most of my squad. Olver was already stood by one on the far left.

Walking up to him I saw that Teron was the only one with his eyes open, the rest seemed to simply be asleep. Despite open eyes, his vision was glazed as he stared straight up at nothing. His fingers twitched continuously in runes that every Chosen knew and avoided.

"Leave us Initiate."

He looked at me blankly for a second and then nodded and walked back the way we'd come. As soon as he'd ducked behind the curtain I looked down on Teron again, my fingers already tracing altogether different runes. I fed the spell out slowly, warily, I had no idea what effect the pleasure magics might have on it. I felt the pressure and slight block as my magic tried to find a way in, much like when I'd tried it on the unconscious Shokun, yet it eventually pushed through more easily. Interesting.

A faint sound tried to fill my ears; a music beyond anything man could produce, that made the soul weep and jump for joy at the same time. I ignored it as hard as I could, forcing it out my head, knowing I would be as trapped as he if I listened too long. The sudden flow of power made me gasp and almost collapsed the spell but I held onto it like someone clawing at the edge of a cliff determined not to fall. It was incredible; full and fast it flowed into me in waves. It made what I had taken from Karak's body pale to insignificance, and was a raging river compared to the cup of water I'd taken from the captive.

CRASH

The spell collapsed around me and once again I found myself thrown backwards, this time into the wall of the tent.

"Mine, get off, mine."

The heavy duty material had held, and I was still on my feet, but my dazed mind was still trying to adapt to the extra power and it took several moments for me to register the voice. It was a near growl, and full of anger, and it took even longer for me to realise it was Teron that had spoken! I moved back to his bed and jumped back as he tried to lunge at me, with arms outstretched.

"Mine, need it, give it back."

I had traced the runes instinctively and cast them out before he finished speaking. He was flung backwards and landed solidly on his back in the bed which groaned and looked ready to collapse. I hadn't intended it to be so hard, just enough to stop his attack, but the power seemed to course through me uncontrollably. I sank to the ground as I tried to rein in the alien feeling; rein in the power. I pictured the sensation I had felt before, of my mind expanding to accomodate the extra power. It tried, I could feel it swell so much it felt I was surely about to burst. Just as suddenly the feeling was gone, the power no longer seemed to flow through my body uncontrollably. Instead I could feel the normal glow in the back of my head.

"Sir?"

My eyes opened again at the sound, and I looked about for the source as I stood up. Teron's lay there, eyes closed and chest moving; his fingers were still. The speaker was in the bed next to him; conveniently it was Margn. The rest of the beds still showed sleeping forms. With a last glance at Teron I turned to Margn and walked over to his bed. I felt rested, and content, like I'd had three days rest. A quick growl of my stomach indicated the hunger was still there though.

Lying in the bed, the lanky tracker was pale and looked about ready to heave whatever remained in his stomach. Green eyes were oddly matched with dark brown hair, marking him from Krantonea, halfway around the world. The Leader hadn't balked at travelling to gather Chosen, and that still happened. Recruiting envoys were spread nearly everywhere in the North, many wondered if the Leader would ever send one to the South through the DeadZone.

"Good to see you awake Margn, how do you feel?"

"Like the Teachers were bored and held mid-summer celebrations in my head."

I grinned at the humour, he couldn't be feeling that bad if he was making jokes.

"You feel up to a walk and something to eat?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then seemed to catch something in my eyes because he simply nodded and pulled back the blankets. He was a little shaky on his feet but stood up without help. He was only wearing a pair of cotton breeches, but a cloak of his was hung by a peg to a rope along the wall and he pulled it down and wrapped it around himself.

"I'd get fully dressed, but you know Torra won't let me leave for long, even with an order from you."

I nodded and we ducked around the partition. As expected Torra immediately protested, but a combination of reassurances and promises to be back soon from Margn and my insistence that I needed to speak with him alone eventually overcame him, and he let us go with a grunt.

Outside, I hurried along to the cookfires, received two plates of various meats with some bread and a handful of fruit, and guided Margn back to my rooms. Despite myself, I followed some of Torra's advice and made sure Margn ate every scrap of breakfast as I told him my new task. I needed him fit to travel as soon as Kewor was back and got his hand sorted.

"The Capital!" He repeated increduously around a mouthful of bread. "There's enough patrols between here and there to suffocate us in bodies and bury us in arrows. It'd take half the camp to carve a way there."

"I have no intention of carving my way anywhere unless I have to."

He swallowed and nodded. "A small group could probably pass through if we were careful, about ten perhaps. That would give us ample defence if some smug captain decided to pick on the wrong group. How many will we be?"

"Three," I stated simply. "Including us."

A coughing fit racked him as he choked on the water he'd been drinking.

"Only three!"

"We need to move swiftly and quietly, avoiding notice where possible. Three is enough."

He swallowed again, although this time not because he was eating. When he next spoke it was in a voice that said he had resigned himself to a fool's task and was looking for a way to survive.

"Who is the third?"

"Kewor. He'll be here in a few days once he's relieved at the bridge. You have that long to get as well as you can. We need to plan a route too."

Surprisingly the news of Kewor seemed to brighten him slightly although he just nodded in response and finished his meal.

"I should get back. I still feel like someone played a particularly rough game of Ji'ren with my head."

"Certainly, go, and get better quickly." I meant it as an order and he took it that way, even managing a enfeebled salute of fist to heart before he left. He would do well.

~

Teron didn't wake up again in the few days after I'd visited him, although his breathing continued. Torra muttered about people interferring when he was trying to do his job, entirely as if he hadn't said there was nothing more he could do for him the first day. I couldn't get a straight answer out of Torra, but I got the impression there was definately some hope for the fire specialist all of a sudden.

Margn and the rest of my squad were released from the healer's tent three days later. It was a further two days after that before Kewor made it back with the exhausted forms of Harop, Mulim and Shannon in tow. I had made sure I was notified as soon as he was spotted and met him on the edge of the camp. Irritated at the days of waiting I dismissed the three to their dorm and took Kewor to my study before he had so much as considered finding a bed. Once there I went through the same conversation as I had with Margn, with much the same responses. He too eventually conceeded that three could likely get through unseen where ten would be noted. I dismissed him to bed and made final plans alone.

During the last few days Margn had argued persistently that we would be better off taking a direct route through the thickest parts of the forest, with him more than capable of keeping them on track. Not only would it halve the distance and time, he argued, but we could answer any threat from wildlife much more directly than ducking to avoid guard patrols or talking our way past. It would only take one disgruntled Captain with an itchy sword-hand to cause a lot of trouble

Kewor argued differently, prefering to follow the paths. With good horses we wouldn't notice the extra distance, and actually get there quicker if trouble was avoided. We were much less likely to get lost, and if the patrols caused trouble they would be dealt with. Many reports also stated that wildlife was the least of the dangers in the deeper parts of the forest, although he had to admit much of that was peasant ravings and farmer's stories.

There was one other alternative that I could think of. We could leave the forest and travel the road that ran east along the border all the way to the Sosluv Road that ran north/south directly to the capital. There would be just as many patrols on that road as the rest of the forest combined and it would take closer to a month, but we'd be lost in a sea of other people coming to and from Sosluv.

I made my decision.