Brian Kittrell - The Immortals of Myrdwyer

“I suppose.” She stretched her back, rubbed her side, and sat next to Marac. “It’ll take me some time to get used to sleeping on the ground. Feels like I slept on a root.”

She’s taking this a bit too far , Laedron thought, watching her sitting at Marac’s side. Is she trying to irritate me, or does she desire a change?

Marac stood, then began taking down his tent. “According to the map, we can make Laslo by nightfall. If they have an inn, you’ll be spared the discomfort.”

After helping Marac dismantle the tent, Laedron did the same to the other, then carefully packed his belongings onto his horse. With all the commotion, Brice woke from his slumber, dagger in hand, as if he’d had a bad dream. He quickly returned the knife to its sheath, then rose.

“Antsy?” Laedron asked, looking over at Brice while strapping his bedroll to his horse.

“Noises in the night. I never worry about them when I’m behind a locked door, but out here, every creak and rustle puts me on edge.” Brice cleared his throat and straightened his clothes, then worked on packing his own gear.

Once the horses were loaded and the campfire had been stamped out, they mounted up and followed Marac to the road. Seemingly without a second thought, Marac took off across the bridge, leading them over the stream and into the thick wood beyond. Although the sun had risen and taken its place high in the sky, the canopy over the road made it seem like dusk. To Laedron, traversing the bridge and entering the wood seemed like crossing over into a whole other world, a place of danger and unknowing.

Like the previous day, Laedron heard little more than hoof beats on the trail, for he and his party didn’t speak. With the little survival training he’d had, he knew that engaging in conversation would dull their wits, making them less alert to their surroundings, and give away their position to anyone nearby who might be listening. It made the traveling harder, though, and they rode until noon without as much as a word between them.

“Whoa,” Marac whispered, pulling on his reins to stop his horse. He leaned forward in his saddle, squinting at the path ahead.

Laedron stopped next to him. “What do you see?”

“Something blocking the road. Either that or it turns suddenly. Hard to tell.”

Closing his eyes, Laedron listened to the forest, trying his best to ignore the horses’ idle stirrings. The fluttering of wings. Chirping of birds. “We can only go forward from here. ‘Tis the only road to Laslo.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open,” Marac whispered, turning to Brice. “Be ready for anything.”

Like Marac, Brice pulled the shield from his back and affixed it to his arm, then Marac inched forward, peering at either side as he went. When they reached the block in the road, Laedron climbed down from his horse. A huge pine several feet in diameter had fallen there, prohibiting passage beyond that point.

“It’s recent,” Marac said, pointing at the limbs. “The leaves are still green.”

“Maybe we can find a way around. Surely there’s a way through.” Brice glanced at the trees. “There, to the right. An opening.”

Laedron walked alongside the tree to its trunk and found scratches and cuts at the base. Fresh cuts. Sap flowing from the nicks. His eyes widened, and he drew his scepter. “Too recent!”

Marac and Brice drew their weapons. When he raised his shield, Marac jerked his arm from the impact of an arrow strike. He hopped to the ground. “Down! Down! We’ll not withstand them on horseback.”

Laedron leaped from his horse. “Val, through there! Get out of here. We’ll find you after.”

Without a word, she snatched the reins and rode hard northeast. Laedron watched an arrow fly past her and strike a tree. He breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the cover of the woods. Brice landed on the ground, scurried to Marac’s side, and hid behind his shield. “A steep hill to our left. I saw an archer atop it.” Marac shoved Brice. “Why didn’t you tell me, Thimble? Want to see my head taken off?”

“I didn’t see it until you jumped down. Quit pushing me!” Brice shoved him back.

“Both of you stop it, or we’ll be killed for sure,” Laedron said, peeking over them.

Another arrow struck Marac’s shield. He stared at the point mere inches from his eye. “We’ve got to do something.”

Laedron couldn’t tell if Marac bore contempt or fear in his eyes. Probably both .

Another arrow dinged against Marac’s shield. “Damned bandits. They’ll hit us eventually.”

“I think they are hitting us,” Brice said.

“You know what I mean, Thimble.”

Laedron clenched his jaw and sneered at them. “Enough. What are our options?”

“Advance on their position.” Marac braced his shield arm with his other hand. “It’s uphill, but we can’t stay here and do nothing.”

Presenting his scepter, Laedron said, “Or escape.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Keep your shields up, and I’ll set a fire.”

Marac sighed. “You’ll burn the whole forest down that way.”

Brice dropped to his knees, and an arrow sailed over his head. “Better to lose the forest than our lives. Do it, Lae.”

“Wait,” Marac said, his eyes shifting, a plan clearly forming in his mind. “Can you summon a winter storm?”

Laedron took his head in his hands. “It’s unlikely to harm them. We don’t have time for theatrics.”

“Yes, but it’ll get them off of us. Summer suddenly turning to winter? It’d make me second-guess attacking whatever could do that.”

“If you like, but it’ll make things harder to burn if they keep shooting.” Laedron readied his scepter. “It won’t take them long to figure out that there’s a sorcerer over here, either.”

“I don’t care if they know we have a sorcerer. I don’t care if they think Azura herself has come down from on high.” Marac gritted his teeth. “Do it. It’s better than setting fire to half of Lasoron.”

Standing up halfway to see over his shield, Laedron pointed the rod toward the woods and chanted a spell of wintertime. Marac and Brice crowded in front of him, doing their best to shield him from the oncoming barrage. From the large ruby, silver and blue light erupted, draping the trees and the ground all around them with ice. Even though he could see little through the canopy, he noticed the sky changing from a vibrant blue to a somber gray. Snow clouds , he mused, waving the scepter from side to side.

Fewer arrows came their way the longer Laedron held the effect, and after a while, the snow flurries were the only things flying around. He strengthened the blizzard with his finishing words, then took hold of his friends by the shoulders. “Best get moving now. It will last a while yet, but not forever.”

Barely on his horse, Laedron yanked the reins to the right and took off in the direction he’d sent Valyrie. He drove the horse onward until its hooves flung dirt and pine straw, the cold air replaced by the hot summer haze beyond his spell’s reach. When he cleared the trees, he felt the sting from the branches that had struck him in the face and the wetness of the blood on his skin. Funny. I hadn’t noticed them hit me on the ride here. His thoughts were cut short when he spotted her horse.

Riding over, Laedron first realized that Valyrie was nowhere to be found. The cliff was the second thing he noticed. He climbed down from his horse and ran to the ledge. If it weren’t for his eagerness to find her, Laedron could have spent hours staring at the breathtaking landscape, the rolling hills in the valley and the lush green treetops extending to the horizon.

“Val!” His voice echoed into the distance. “Valyrie!”