Wrath of the White Tigress

Chapter 16

Two days later, exhausted and covered with small bruises and cuts from rushing across the treacherous terrain, the group stumbled into a farming village. Fog draped the land, even though it was late afternoon. The crops grew brown and limp since the soil of Vaalshimar was poor and full sunlight scarce. At a farmhouse they bought a hot meal and what few meager rations the farm could spare. Zyrella asked the old widow who owned the farm if she knew how they could reach the Farseer.

The woman spat and cursed. "Well, you can find her in the island's center right enough. Head on toward the mountains, two more days of walking, and find the old riverbed. Follow it north and you'll see a canyon that cuts into the mountain and becomes like a tunnel. Somewhere in the dark hollows, her people will find you. Gods rest your souls."

Ohzikar asked, "Are they unfriendly people?"

"If you can rightly call the Arhrhakim people. Not violent mind you, not when they come to us for trade. But trespassers aren't welcomed."

"What sort of people are they?" Zyrella asked.

"Don't rightly know. They come at night wearing hooded cloaks. Their voices are nearly growls and their eyes glow like those of a wolf. Fur on their hands, too. I can tell you no more than that."

They thanked the old woman and marched on with dampened spirits.

~~~

Adynarh and his warriors caught up with them in the canyon as they neared the tunnel. Jaska had observed their pursuers in the Shadowland while Zyrella rested. Once, he had spotted Adynarh there at a distance, but the palymfar commander had fled rather than confront Jaska. He feared what Adynarh's survival meant for Tieros.

The jagged canyon walls closed in and cloaked them in forbidding shadows. What lay in the darkness ahead, they couldn't say. A magic barrier blocked scrying attempts within the hollows of the mountain.

A palymfar arrow hummed through the sky, struck a rock, and skittered across the ground ahead. The group scattered and broke into a zigzagging sprint to avoid arrow fire. The soldiers continued to loose arrows while more than thirty palymfar charged ahead. Ohzikar ran behind Zyrella to shield her, or to pick her up if she fell. The palymfar closed to within fifty yards. Total darkness lay just as close ahead.

Suddenly, Ohzikar grunted and tumbled to the ground, kicking up dust and rocks.

Zyrella paused. "Ohzi!"

Jaska shoved her on. "Go! I've got him."

Bakulus and Caracyn hastily fired two arrows at the oncoming palymfar then flanked the priestess. Jaska lifted Ohzikar to his feet. An arrow had pierced the rim of the shield strapped on his back and had dug into his flesh.

"I'm all right," the templar said. "It's not deep."

As they ran into the tunnel, Jaska activated his darksight and spotted the Arhrhakim. At least fifty tall, broad-shouldered warriors in grey cloaks and armed with long spears and composite short bows lined the walls ahead. Another twenty stood in the canyon's center. Blindly Zyrella and the others ran on until Jaska halted them. He trusted that their pursuers would see the Arhrhakim and pause as well.

"We come in peace!" Jaska called out.

A warrior nearly seven feet tall, though only a few inches taller than the others, stepped forward. His voice was like a growl, his speech archaic and guttural. "You bring evil, Slayer, but we shall take you and your comrades to the Farseer nevertheless."

Having stopped as well, Adynarh shouted: "We have no quarrel with you! We ask only that we may pursue our enemies!"

"Unless you are fleet of foot," replied the warrior, "you will die for trespassing here."