Paul Thompson: The Forest King

She decided to put her theory to the test. She called Balif’s name in the dark forest, at first repeating it over and over. It accomplished nothing. Balif could be miles away by now, or he might be unconscious. In his current state of transformation, how well could the general handle his injuries? Mathi had no way to know.

She zigzagged through the trees. Tired of calling, she sat down on a fallen tree. It was very humid in the lowland green. Sweat dripped from her brow.

One last time she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Amaranthe! Amaranthe wants you! Answer me, general! Amaranthe! Amaranthe!”

A low growl rose from the darkness behind the broken tree. Mathi leaped up, groping clumsily for her sword. All her pointless shouting had accomplished nothing but arousing a wild bear. Or was it a bear?

“My lord, is that you?”

She heard heavy panting close by, but could not detect the source. Then a heap of dry leaves heaved up from under the fallen log. Two pin-points of light gleamed, pale white like the face of Solinari. It took Mathi a moment to realize what she was seeing. Balif in his beast form was no longer an elf, but his eyes were glowing with the telltale aura.

Mathi’s heart hammered in her chest. It was too dark for her to make out any details of the creature standing before him. The beast was bigger than before. Standing, it towered over Mathi.

“My lord,” she said carefully, focusing on the twin points of light hovering above her, “the lady Amaranthe has sent me to find you.”

The lights weaved slightly from side to side. Mathi went on.

“She is near! Her ship lies at anchor in the bay.”

The black silhouette abruptly turned away. Apparently Balif did not want to see his lover-or did not want his lover to see him in his current state.

“Wait, my lord! You know the lady is powerful, and has great mages in her employ. The colors you see in the air are a spell she had cast to find you.” She hoped it was Amaranthe, and not Artyrith. “Go to her. There may be something she can do for you-”

The creature charged so suddenly that Mathi could do nothing to dodge. It scooped her up and crushed her close. The smell of beast was strong. Mathi was helpless, her arms pinned to her side, and her feet dangling in the air.

A wet black nose came close to his ear. The beast huffed and sniffed, then leaped over the tree and began to run. It was an awkward, jolting pace, using only three limbs, but the creature still hurtled through the undergrowth. Here and there it bored through a floating patch of aurora, which instantly dissipated with a faint crackling sound. Mathi wanted to yell, but she reckoned if the beast had wanted to harm her it would have done so already. So she held on tight as it ran.

“Do you understand me, my lord?” she whispered, clinging tightly to his furred torso. “I am like you. I know the call of blood you’re hearing.”

He halted in a flurry of churned-up leaves and snapping branches. Fiery pinpoint eyes bored into hers.

“Go to the princess,” Mathi said. “And if she cannot save you, despair not. There is another way.”

She felt the hot breath of the beast on her face. He was weighing her words. Without warning his musing ended, and he sprang through the undergrowth with renewed vigor.

Mathi’s headlong ride through the woods lasted right down to the shore of the bay. Faced with a wide expanse of dark water, Balif dug in his claws and skidded to a stop on the wet clay beach. The bay was dotted with lanterns bobbing on the masts and prows of the elf fleet.

“The biggest one is Amaranthe’s.”

Mathi could feel the beast’s heart thudding hard deep inside its chest. It slowly opened its arm, dropping the girl at the water’s edge. Balif took a tentative step into the water, as if he were unhappy about getting wet.

“Don’t leave me,” Mathi said, rising on numb legs. “I can speak for you. Take me with you.”

The beast looked over its high, muscled shoulders and gave its leonine head a sideways twitch. Mathi recognized the gesture. She climbed onto the beast’s back. There was nothing to hold onto but fur. Mathi grabbed hold.

Twin luminous eyes probed her briefly. The floating bands of auroral colors passed on opposite courses over the bay, their strangely vivid hues reflected in the calm water. Without further ado Balif plunged forward. They splashed loudly into the warm water. As a beast Balif’s stroke was an inelegant dogpaddle, but his powerful limbs carried them quickly into the midst of the idle ships. Clinging tightly to his back, Mathi kept her head close against the beast’s neck. She saw sailors and warriors lounging on the decks of vessels they passed. Though Balif’s swimming wasn’t especially stealthy, wind and waves masked its noise enough that they went unnoticed.

Passing between two anchored argosies, they suddenly beheld the flagship. It was lit up like nothing Mathi had ever seen before. The rail was lined with lamps, lanterns were hoisted from every masthead, and the portholes glowed from within. Tellingly, silent balls of fire periodically erupted from the mainmast. Once clear of the ship the fireballs split open, releasing the rainbow colored auroras haunting the land. Here was the origin of the strange spell. Mathi still didn’t know who was behind it, though she felt strongly it must be Amaranthe. She was still aboard, while Aryrith was inland, chasing nomads and hunting for General Balif.

“That’s it,” she whispered unnecessarily. Balif swam toward the brilliantly bedecked ship.

There was no way to board. The crane that had lifted the rowing bark was retracted. No nets or ladders hung down. Just two cables held the ship at anchor, one off the port bow and the other at the starboard stern.

“The lady’s pavilion was below deck, amidship,” Mathi said.

Coming around the prow, Balif made for the bow line. It was a bronze chain with links as thick as Mathi’s ankle. The beast clung to it while Mathi climbed, slipping her soggy sandals into the links. She kept going until she reached the hawse pipe. It led through to the lighted deck, but it was too small for the beast to crawl through.

She waved until Balif noticed her. Miming with her hands, she tried to convey to him her plan to go up on deck and find an opening large enough to admit him. Unsure if Balif understood, Mathi went ahead, crawling through the dark hawse pipe. It was a snug fit, but she made it. The deck by the hole was empty. She climbed out. Mathi had just stood up when she felt the prick of a spearpoint in the small of her back.

“Stand where you are and do not move!”

Damned alert sentinels. Mathi held up her hands.

“I am here at the request of the August Person,” she said.

The elf sniffed. “That’s why you crept aboard like a water rat, is it?” He jabbed Mathi. “You’ll not get near the August Person, whoever you are! Chief of the Deck Watch!” he called. “I have an intruder!”

An officer in a plumed helmet appeared from the deckhouse, escorted by four soldiers. Seeing Mathi standing there dripping seawater, they hurried over.

“What’s this?” the officer demanded.

“My name is Mathani Arborelinex. I was here earlier today, summoned by Her Highness. She asked me to return if I had news of General Balif.”

“So you swam out here in the dark and boarded by scaling the anchor chain? What kind of fool do you think I am?” The officer called for restraints. A soldier returned to the deckhouse and came back with a set of manacles. Mathi backed away, right into the leveled spear of the guard who first caught her.

Wincing she said, “The princess will be very angry if you prevent me from seeing her!”