The Soul Forge.

Chapter Six: Selected Survivors.

  The frigid morning air bit into Tauren as he saddled T’hune.

  The night before, Detrick had shown Tauren the route he planned to take to get to Duke Cazerones fortress far to the south, deep in the massive plains that covered much of Caraca. It was, for sure, a roundabout way, one that Detrick was hoping the Halavardes hunting him wouldn’t suspect him to take.

   They would have to get out of the forest first, and then they would head down the mountains bordering the ocean, staying to the inland slopes, after some seventy-five miles they would reach a canyon by the side of which ran an ancient road, long since abandoned. They would follow it for another 40 miles or so before they finally reached the Dukes fortress capital; Vaetrion.

   From the map that Detrick carried, Tauren guessed it would take them another four or five hours to get out of the forest and another three days at least to get to the massive canyon, going hard. Then, at the same pace, it should take another day or two to reach the Dukes fortress.

   That added up to six to seven days, if all went well.

    And chances where against everything going well, it appeared.

    After getting out of the forest, which, in that area, was filled with all kinds of mysterious beasts, that, it was rumored, fed on innocent travelers passing through; they would have to leave the relatively easy forest trail and make off into the Great Eastern Plain of Caraca.

    And the plains where hilly, rocky, and would give them a hard a time as their enemies could wish for.

    After the plains they would have to find an ancient road that was practically a legend, and follow it, should it actually exist.

    Needless to add, thought Tauren to himself, the entire journey would be constantly harried by the Halavardes hunting them, trying to keep them from getting their message through.

    But Detrick seemed confident that they could do it, no matter how bad the odds seemed, and Tauren had reluctantly agreed to the plan after a few minutes of debate.

    But they couldn’t stay in one place long, or a squad of roaming Halavardes might catch them un-aware, a squad much like the one that had attacked them the previous night. . .

   That morning they had quickly packed up the few necessities that they had taken out, and then had gone and searched the dead, stinking bodies of the Halavardes, taking all that was worth taking.

   He sighed, thinking of the corpses; he didn’t like the thought of having killed them, the thought that they probably had families that would now wait for husbands, fathers, and sons that would never return. . .

   It shocked him that, hardly a week ago, he had been afraid of how he would react to having to kill other living, thinking beings, but that the previous night he had killed those men so easily. He had done what was right in his eyes, and he didn’t regret it, a fact that disturbed him.

    T’hune nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie. Rubbing the horse’s velvety black nose, he leaped up onto the saddle, grabbing the reigns and steering them through the thin underbrush and onto the road where Detrick sat astride his massive black racehorse.

   Detrick nodded to him, grinning as he always seemed to be, and they turned down the trail without a word and set out on their days journey.

    By previous agreement Tauren rode as far ahead of Detrick as he could without losing sight of him, that way they could have as much warning against an ambush as they could, and hopefully, should they be ambushed, only one of them would be surprised, leaving the other to help his companion.