The Beacon: Thorne (4)
Episode 32: "The River Road"
Though tempted to enjoy Duke Thorne’s generous hospitality for another day, Adon decided to leave Brodgar after just one night’s rest. In the pre-dawn darkness, they woke to a warm, humid, already oppressive day, the leaden clouds promising rain at any time. Using the weather as an excuse, the duke argued for them staying until the front cleared out to the east, but Adon countered with the urgency of their mission and the king’s insistence that there should be no delay. The duke dared not argue against his king’s desire for haste.
At dinner the previous evening, Borgond had estimated that Essela lay fifty leagues from his fortress, a trip of at least a week at a wagon’s pace. The distance convinced the captain that his decision to leave was sound. It took little effort to persuade Lieutenant dor Finan and Sergeant Stag to abandon one of the Palace Guard wagons, transferring its remaining gear and food to the other three wagons, and the duke contributed four additional draft horses to speed their journey. Hearing the Guard had lost weapons in the skirmish outside Blayne, he also ordered his armorer to give them a half-dozen spears, an equal number of lances, and a bundle of arrows.
As the sky beyond the Dragon’s Teeth lightened, the company took their leave of the duke, exiting Brodgar through its southern gate and crossing the bridge over the White River to its western bank. Turning onto the North Road, they continued along the increasingly tree-lined riverbank for a few hours before taking the eastern option at a fork, putting them on the less-traveled River Road. It would be their path until it turned into a narrow trail in the distant mountains.
Just after mid-morning, Bandrick halted the company in a shady riverside meadow to rest their mounts and eat. Judging they had made excellent time in the relative cool of the morning, he planned to slow the pace as the day grew warmer, so as not to overtax the animals. The crew and soldiers swiftly unhitched the draft horses and led them down to the water’s edge. In no time, Mast had a small fire burning to fry sausages and potatoes and brew tea for anyone who wanted any.
Gingerly, Mat climbed down from Thistle. He had recovered remarkably swiftly after ejecting the remaining taint of the emanation’s evil as they burst through Blayne’s gate, but the long ride on his horse’s back had reawakened soreness that he thought he had overcome. Resting his forehead on his saddle, he took several deep breaths before turning toward the riverbank.
As Thistle drank, he stretched his back and legs, trying to relieve some of the strain. Afterward, drinking the last of the water in his canteen, he squatted to refill it, gazing across the river at the far bank and the open plain beyond. A slight breeze bent the grass eastward, and his eyes followed it up the slope gently rising from the river. Sweeping it from north to south, he scanned the opposite plain, but it contained little more than knee-high grass, a few trees, and dozens of birds, pecking, skipping, and flying about.
When his glance returned to the north, he looked upriver, watching the water flow toward him. His eye caught a strange shimmer straddling the water and the bank. Standing, he scrutinized it as he corked the canteen. Whatever it was, it was moving toward them.
“Oh, no,” he said, his heart dropping.
Casting his eyes about him, he quickly found a climbable river birch nearby and scrambled up into its branches as high as he could. He cursed when he saw the familiar wave pattern, bubble shape, and steady movement. Yelling a warning as he clambered back to the ground, he vaulted on Thistle’s back and pounded up the riverbank toward Adon.
“Emanation coming! Ride west!” he shouted again. As he pulled up near the captain, he said more calmly, “It’s coming almost straight down the river, heading right toward us! Everybody needs to move now!”
Already moving, the Palace Guard soldiers mounted their horses and cantered away. Ren lifted Artema to sit behind him, and Mia and Gamila also rode double, trotting after them. Placing his pans on nearby stones, Mast left his cook fire and rode bareback on one of the spare draft horses. Adon, Mat, and Bandrick walked their horses, keeping their eyes on the riverbank. Simultaneously, they all saw the emanation flow through the screening trees and begin its sweep of the western bank.
“Captain,” Bandrick said, his voice showing no fear, “we’d better ride now if we want to avoid it.”
Adon nodded. “Let’s go.” He and Bandrick kicked their horses’ flanks and bounded away. Reaching the road, they stopped and swung their horses to look back at Mat. “Aren’t you coming, son?” the captain asked.
Mat shook his head. “I need to get rid of its evil, sir,” he said, his voice and face serious but unafraid. “I can run with you, and no one in the company goes crazy or gets hurt. But it’s headed downriver toward Palisade and who knows what else south of here. I owe it to them to tame it.”
“Are you strong enough?” Bandrick asked, concerned. “You just recovered from the last one.”
The younger man nodded. “Strong enough,” he said, smirking. He tapped his temple. “This is where I need to be strong, and I am. Besides, I know what to do now.” Glancing off to his right, he noted the progress of the emanation and dismounted, handing Thistle’s reins to Bandrick, who had walked Sugar back toward him. “You have just enough time to clear it before it gets here.”
The two others needed no urging and raced after the others.
Mat strode toward the fire to ensure the wave’s center would pass over him. The soreness of the ride had vanished, but an approaching, defiling sensation of evil had replaced it. It really does feel like bugs crawling all over my skin. Involuntarily, his body shivered in disgust. Then the emanation engulfed him.
Although he braced himself for the expected attack, it still staggered him when it hit him full force with jarring suddenness. Like the previous times, he smelled the sharp, overwhelming odor of decay, and lashings of extreme hot and cold burned across his skin. The same old tricks, eh, Azuri? he thought contemptuously. You’ve had millennia to imagine torments on weak humans, and this is the best you can do? He laughed aloud.
The last time he had entered an emanation, the evil spirit had laughed at him, derided him, but this time, the demon did not laugh, remembering his defeats by this insignificant young human—this cocky, persistent ant. Instead, he raged, his anger terrifying and pitiless, hammering on Mat’s defenses. Manifesting himself as a huge, tattooed warrior with war paint gleaming fluorescently across his cheeks and chest, he threw countless spears, axes, lances, swords, arrows, knives, and pain at the young man, piercing every part of his body, ripping his flesh, and breaking his bones. He crossed massive, muscled arms over his broad chest, satisfied with his prowess.
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Caught off guard, Mat stiffened, his breath hitching, his face contorting, and his body beginning to spasm. Then, as if a switch were thrown, he relaxed and smiled, shaking his head. Really, Azuri? Don’t you realize I’ve figured out that your only power in these emanations is to deceive me with illusions? All I need to do is ground myself in reality, and even your greatest efforts melt away.
“Stupid child!” the spirit roared, ruby-colored eyes blazing. “You cannot conceive of the vastness of my power! I am the strongest of spirits, unmatched on Osegra!”
Mat laughed again. You have no power except what Neböath allows you to use, and it appears, for now, He has limited you to mind games.
As if in pain, Azuri shrieked when he heard the name Mat used. He had not heard his enemy’s name in many centuries, and indeed not since he and his brothers had claimed Osegra as their own domain, as far away as possible from the worshipers of Neböath. “The Unjust Creator has no claim or power over me!” he bellowed, though Mat heard a childish whine in it. “I am no servant! I am sovereign of my domain!”
Keep on deceiving yourself, then, Mat said. I will stick to the truth. And the truth is that Neböath, God of the Penthori, has enabled me to siphon the evil from your emanations. And while you have been throwing a tantrum, I’ve just about finished.
The Leitan deity screamed curses at Mat, filling his mind with unbearable sound until he fell to his knees, clutching his head as if to keep it from exploding. But, in an instant, the sound cut off, and Mat crumbled to the ground, rolling onto his back. Breathing heavily, his head throbbing and his whole body feeling weighed down, he gathered his strength, and with focused effort, flung his right fist into the sky, shouting, “Get out!” as loudly as he could. He lost consciousness, his arm falling limply beside him.
For a long moment, all was still but for the now-benign emanation creeping southward. The rest of the company began riding back, led by Mia, whose face betrayed her worry for her brother lying supine and unmoving on the grass. But no sooner had they reached the road when a tremendous boom resounded from the gray mass of cloud above them. Several bolts of lightning struck simultaneously nearby, causing the horses to rear in terror and try to sprint away. As the thunder continued to roll, heavy sheets of rain plummeted to the earth, soaking everything in seconds. The suddenly angry clouds above them roiled and rushed away as a stiff wind roared from the west, chasing the storm across the river. Lightning crashed repeatedly in the east, its thunder shouting back at them, and the downpour persisted, unslacking. The river began to swell, rushing by.
Woken by the rain, Mat struggled to sit up, finally getting an arm under him to push his torso upright. He laughed aloud and could not seem to stop. Tipping his head up to the sky, the rain pelting his face, he howled with laughter.
Mia found him like this when she finally brought a quivering Thorn to him through the sodden grass. Gamila, who had somehow hung on when Thorn had reared, jumped down, and Mia followed, both rushing to him. “Mat?” Mia asked, kneeling beside him, her voice quavering, her brows lowered in worry. “Have you lost your mind?”
He laughed a moment longer before looking at them with a crooked grin. “No, I’m just crazy happy,” he said. “Neböath be praised, I think I know how to stop Azuri!”
A note:
Many hours later, the people of Shipton received their second emanation, far broader than the first. Its sighting provoked utter mayhem and terror. Many townsfolk tried to outrun it, coursing down the road to the plain below. Of course, many of the older folk could not get away, and the new mayor, Standish Parado, his wife, Amulee, and their children bravely stayed behind with many of them gathered at the Town Hall. Holding hands, they all watched the wave flow through and looked for signs of aberrant behavior. When the back edge of the emanation slipped past, and nothing untoward had happened, the people shouted with amazed relief, not knowing a courageous young man in faraway Thorne had saved them from sure disaster.
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Yay, Mat! What an act of sacrifice and heroism!