Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening Book 1) (9 page)

Aedan, unable to move or shout, could do nothing but stare. Kalry
was nursing her father who rested against a log, massaging his ankles. He
drained the mug of water and handed it back to her with what looked like a
request for more. She limped back towards the skins and that was when it
happened.

The shadows all but hid the stealthy form that
darted out, grabbed her from behind, clamped her mouth, and carried her back
into the darkness. Aedan thrashed, but he may as well have fought against the
beams of a cattle crush. Dresbourn had not seen; he was too concerned with his
welts. Nobody else had noticed.

The Lekran grunted his satisfaction and shifted his
grip as he began to turn back into the forest. Aedan felt a finger pressing
against his teeth; it was all the invitation that was needed. He opened his
mouth, the finger slipped inside, and he bit down like a mole. With a yell the
man snatched his hand away and Aedan shot into the clearing, screaming, “He
took Kalry, he took Kalry! After him!”

A few puzzled expressions and bewildered glances
were all he received. He ran over to where Dresbourn reclined and pointed
desperately into the shadows, still shouting.

“Everyone is fine,” Lanor said, misunderstanding
him and gripping his arm. “But where have you been? Emroy gave you the simple
task of marking trees and you only did half the job.”

Aedan ignored him. “In here, we must go now or
we’ll lose her.”

“She’s with us, you impertinent little fool!” Dresbourn
snapped. “She just went to fetch water. I would have seen if –”

“Where Dresbourn? I don’t see her,” said Nulty as
he came trotting up. “I think it would be wise to listen to Aedan this time.”

“Will someone remove this annoying man before I –”
Dresbourn began.

“Listen to him!” Nulty roared. A shocked silence
settled over the scene. Even Dresbourn stared open-mouthed.

“He’s right,” Lanor said, looking around him.
“Kalry is not here.” Several voices called her name and when there was no
response, Lanor’s voice was hard.

“Aedan, you are the only one who saw. Point the
way. Five with us. Murron, you remain and take charge. Set up a perimeter for
the evening and return to Badgerfields at first light. Stay together.”

Lanor, Nulty and another four men followed as Aedan
led the way into the shadows. Dresbourn came after them, demanding forcefully
that Aedan be sent back before he could ruin their chances.

Lanor’s words were swift and sharp. “Sir Dresbourn,”
he said. “Fall in silently or return to camp. But if you raise your voice again
I will have you bound and gagged.”

Dresbourn fell back, trailing at a distance.

Aedan pressed forward into the shadows. After
about fifty paces Lanor whispered, “How do you know where you are going?”

“I don’t,” Aedan replied, whispering. “I’m getting
us away from the noise of the people so we can listen.”

He was worried Lanor might want to take the lead
after this admission, so he moved quickly ahead. In spite of his age, he was
the only one who had been trained by a forester, and this was a forest he knew
well. From the snapping and crunching behind, it was clear that none of the men
even knew how to walk when on the hunt. After the camp noises had dwindled to
nothing, Aedan stopped and whispered.

“There are at least two of them. We need to listen
until we know how many and where.” Then he repeated something his father had
often told him. “Don’t talk when you hear something. Keep listening. Be patient
and very quiet.”

Aedan caught the look on the sheriff’s face. The
man was clearly surprised at what he was hearing; it appeared to be causing
some shift in his thoughts.

They waited.

There were many forest noises. A fruit bat pinged,
crickets creaked, frogs belched, a forest owl hooted. Nearby, a shrew that had
been waiting in fearful silence began to gnaw.

As he drank in the noises, immersing himself in
the surroundings and filtering out the distractions, a part of Aedan’s thoughts
turned back to what Sheriff Lanor had said earlier. Emroy must have seen the
opportunity to win a name for himself and taken it. The thought was dismissed
as swiftly as it took shape. It was a gnat compared to what he now faced.

Crack. Some distance off to the right.

Lanor tapped his shoulder, but Aedan shook his
head. The direction was wrong. He guessed that it was the second man trying to
join up with Quin.

A heavy crunch sounded from the same direction.

They waited.

It was so quiet that Aedan wasn’t sure at first,
but then it repeated – the sharp growl, like the teeth of brambles as they pull
from clothing.

Aedan spoke quickly in a whisper, “Quin is about a
hundred yards ahead, to the left. One of his men is joining him from the right.
I think they are heading west.

“Lead the way,” Lanor said. “You seem to know what
you’re doing.”

Lanor’s respect was not easily earned and Aedan
felt a strange warmth in his chest. His eyes had recovered from the glare of
the fire and now welcomed the sparse needles of moonlight. He threaded a course
between the trees, keeping away from brambles and the skeletons of dry branches
that would defeat any attempt at stealth. They moved at a good pace with little
noise. Even Nulty had contrived to hold his weapons close and tame the metallic
cacophony.

The ground began to slope downhill. Aedan realised
with a sudden rush of panic where they were heading and increased the pace. One
of the men at the back tripped over some unseen object and fell onto the man in
front of him. They came to ground heavily. The thump and snap of twigs would be
unmistakable. Aedan stopped. They listened. Apart from the forest sounds there
was no noise. Then branches cracked and rapid steps echoed through the night.

“They are making a dash for the river,” Aedan
said. “Hurry!”

Stealth was abandoned and they charged forward,
tearing through thorns and creepers in a headlong plunge down the slope. This
time Lanor could not keep up. Aedan flew over the ground at a speed that would
have been reckless even in daylight. Several times he tripped and once he
caught a branch across the neck, but he rolled to his feet and pushed on. He
knew he was leaving the rest behind, but they would find him again at the river
bank. He had a desperate fear that boats were already being launched.

Stark moonlight poured down into the valley and revealed
his small form as he leapt out between clusters of ferns onto boulders. The
river bent away upstream and he could see nothing but rocks. Downstream, all
was still. But then the shapes of two canoes emerged from cover a hundred yards
from him. He bounded over the tops of boulders, but by the time he reached the
spot, the canoes were well into the river and sliding away.

“They would have needed more than two,” he said to
himself, and raced up to the trees where he found several more canoes. They
were light, the kind that could be borne along trails between men, so he was
able to drag one to the river. He launched it, but dark water welled up from a
splintered gash in the hull. Dismay welled up too, threatening to choke him. He
ran back to the other canoes and searched. They had all been staved in.

“Aedan,” Lanor called, scrambling over the
boulders, his gasping men in hot pursuit. “Where are they?”

Aedan pointed, unable to speak.

The sheriff looked at the fast-flowing river and
then his eyes dropped to the ruined hulls that ended the pursuit. “You did
well,” he said, putting his hand on Aedan’s shoulder.

But Aedan was not listening. “We can cross,” he
managed. “We can use clothes to plug the holes. We just need to get to the
other side. The ground is open there and we can outrun them if we go over the
spur.”

Lanor followed the direction of Aedan’s arm, and
turned back to look over the canoes.

“Maybe, just maybe,” he said. Then he straightened
up. “Each man find a boat that will get you across. If you can’t swim I suggest
you remain here and wait for us.”

They dragged canoes to the water, but after
testing them, all except Lanor and Nulty drew back. Aedan had stuffed his
jacket into a punctured hull and was already paddling. Lanor and Nulty
followed. The current was swift and carried them downstream faster than they
had expected. Aedan made it most of the way before he had to jump into the
shallows and wade. Lanor was heavier, but he rowed more powerfully and made a
similar landing. Nulty was as heavy as he looked, and though he made a
courageous effort, thrashing about him with the oar, he was in the middle of
the current when forced to abandon the sinking canoe and swim for his life.
Fortunately he had remembered to throw off the chain mail and heavier weapons,
so he was not dragged straight down to a watery death. Aedan and Lanor jogged
along with the current until the storekeeper was able to reach the ground and
fight his way to the shore.

“Are you able to run?” Lanor asked, his voice
betraying a touch of annoyance.

“Quite,” Nulty spluttered, “Yes, quite able.” He
shook off the excess water and pushed in front of the sheriff at a jog.

The hill was murderous, partly due to the
steepness and mostly due to the urgency. Lanor, who had perhaps expected to be
cracking a whip at Nulty, found himself wheezing and straining at the back.
That a small boy and a man so round and mild could leave the sheriff behind was
not something anyone would have expected. Lanor was a fearsome man, but the rage
in Aedan’s face and the dogged resolve in Nulty’s made the sheriff seem the
mild one.

They crested the hill and were faced with another.
Lanor groaned as the others pushed on. All three were blowing hard. But the
burning in Aedan’s chest and the agony in his thighs were nothing compared to
the panic in his heart.

What had Nulty said? Stay with her, Aedan. There
had been a deep worry in the storekeeper’s eyes back then, and as Aedan turned
now, he caught a look of stark dread. He began to whine under every expelled
breath and tore at the ground beneath him with hands and feet, surging upwards.

He scrambled over the shoulder of the hill where
the ground levelled. Without a word, Aedan broke into a steady run, Nulty and
Lanor following close behind. The dark forest was behind them now and only isolated
stands of small trees speckled the hilltop. Long grass was all they had to
contend with as their feet drummed towards the far end of the spur where the
river turned back.

A shriek sounded in the night and a herd of forest
gazelle bounded away in high, hanging leaps. Gradually the slope began to drop
as Aedan passed the watershed. He lengthened his stride, approaching the second
valley.

Something warned him that the drop ahead was more
than a slope, and it was fortunate for him that he slowed down, for his last
stride carried him to the edge, not of a bank, but of a cliff. He peered over
the lip as the sheriff drew up beside him.

Deep craggy lines scarred a face that plummeted a
hideous distance to the churning current beneath. The cliff extended up the
river, to the left. But to the right, where the river bent away, the cliff did
not bend; it continued towards the forest, effectively cutting off any descent.
They could go no further. The only way to reach the river was to head back all
the miles they had just run.

 Nulty arrived, his boots striking the rocks
heavily. He collapsed and crawled to the edge where he stared with round eyes
and open mouth at the horrible drop. All were wheezing with the desperate
effort at breathing. Aedan coughed and something salty and sticky filled his
mouth.

“Even if possible, it would take us till morning
to climb down there,” said Lanor, when he was able to speak, “and the chance of
surviving a jump like this has got to be very small.”

“It … cannot …,” Nulty gasped, in snatches,
“cannot … cannot be …”

Aedan stared in disbelief at the empty river
churning far below. Lanor was looking at him. Once the desperation had left his
breathing, the sheriff spoke.

“It was all your plan, Aedan, wasn’t it? Burning
the barn, marking the trail, setting the tree alight to guide us?”

Aedan nodded but he was still looking at the
river.

“Why did you leave us to get lost?”

“To drug their food, so they wouldn’t be able to fight.”

Realisation flooded Lanor’s face and he stared
anew at the young boy before him.

“They always said you had a commander’s brain in a
boy’s head. I just took it for farm stories, but I see now that there was no
exaggeration. The town will learn of this. And Emroy will learn the price of
lying to the sheriff, regardless of who his father thinks he is.”

Aedan stiffened, eyes locked on a small shape that
drifted from the shadow of the cliff.

“Kalry!” he bellowed with all the force of his
young voice.