M. Mathias: Through the Wildwood

“What in all the nine hells was that?” Trevin asked as he fumbled for his sword.

“I don’t know,” said Darbon with a voice full of concern. “But it went toward Matty.” He pulled the dagger from his belt and strode into the forest in the general direction of the pool. Trevin started to follow, but Vanx blocked his way.

“Stay with Gal,” Vanx said, and before Trevin could finish blinking, Vanx was gone.

Vanx could see as if it were a typical overcast day. He couldn’t so much make out the distinguishing colors of things as he could discern the textures of what his eyes took in. The rough bark of the trees contrasted with the silky blackness of open space. The uneven, yet relatively smooth forest floor appeared as a deeply shadowed carpet before him. He moved quickly and quietly, like a predatory animal seeking to flank its prey. In a matter of moments he could see Matty ahead standing thigh-deep in the pool, cupping water in her hands and letting it run down her glistening body. Her hair was wet and hung over most of her face, concealing her ugly bruises. The moonlight accentuated the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips, causing Vanx to have to look away.

“Matty,” he said an urgent whisper. “Get out of there.”

“Hmmm,” she sounded with a seductive giggle. “I knew you’d come to your senses sooner or later, pretty man.”

“I’m not out here to dally with you, woman. There’s danger about and Darby has gone off in the dark to save you.”

“Darbon?” She glanced around, attempting to cover her body with her arms. “Where are you, Vanx? What’s going on?”

“I’m over…” Vanx was about to step into the open so that she could see him, but the strange beast darted out before he could take a step. Vanx decided that it was a Kobalt, a stunted sort of half-troll that was supposed to be semi-intelligent. The tales Vanx had heard said the creatures roamed in packs like wolves. This thought only served to increase his alarm, as Matty, who apparently thought the thing was him, went wading toward it.

The Kobalt froze at the sight of her. Vanx decided then and there that very few creatures, sentient or not, could keep from pausing at the sight of a well-rounded woman bathing naked in the moonlight. Her scream came as Vanx realized that he had no weapon with him.

“Matty!” Darbon’s voice called out from not far away. “Maaaaa-teeeee!” he yelled again. “Where are you?”

The Kobalt looked toward the sound and hesitated. Vanx used the moment to make a move. With deft swiftness he took two strides, scooped up a club-sized piece of deadfall and hurled it end over end at the creature.

Matty froze, trembling in knee-deep water, but when the chunk of dried oak hit the Kobalt and splintered, she screamed again. The Kobalt howled out too, as it pitched forward into the shallow water.

“Maaaaaatt-eeeeeee!” Darbon yelled again.

The Kobalt staggered to its feet.

“Over here, Darby. Hurry!” Matty yelled as she pushed herself back into the waist-deep water.

The Kobalt lurched away and disappeared into the trees. Vanx had concerns that it might rejoin its pack and come back for revenge, but in the late spring, a lone male of any species wandering around usually meant an alpha was culling out his pack.

After the Kobalt was gone, Vanx spoke from his place in the shadows. “That boy is smitten with you, Matty,” Vanx told her in a severe whisper. “He came to save you like a knight would a princess.”

Matty kept her arms over her breasts and moved to the shore where her clothes were piled. “Is he lost?” she asked, trying to cover herself.

Vanx cocked his ear and could hear Darbon’s footfalls closing in on the pool. “Call him again, Matty. He’s close.”

Before she did, she whispered a heartfelt thank you to Vanx. He heard her, but didn’t respond. He was already on his way back to camp to warn Trevin of what had happened.

A short while later, Matty and Darbon came back into the camp arm in arm. Matty, with her head on the young man’s shoulder and Darbon with a huge, satisfied grin on his face. Neither seemed to notice the leaves and twigs that were stuck to their clothes and in their disheveled hair.

“Get some sleep, Matty,” Vanx ordered. “You’ve got second watch with Trevin. Darbon, go get a bow.”

The night passed uneventfully. Late the next day, as they hurried through the forest, Vanx felt as if there were eyes upon them. The day’s travel went well, even the crossing of a rough-flowing spring thaw river. The haulkattens, being feline, didn’t like getting wet, but Vanx and Darbon, along with Matty’s soothing voice, managed to coax them across.

While they were at the river, Trevin spent the time trying to cool Gallarael’s body with strips of cloth soaked in the frigid water. It was there that he voiced his extreme concern over the band Vanx had tied around her bitten arm.

“Vanx, I’m afraid,” Trevin said with tears pooling in his eyes. “What if taking it off of her makes it worse?”

“There is no worse, Trev,” Vanx said calmly. “I’ll do it so you’ll not have to live with the guilt if it goes bad, but she will lose the arm if we don’t let it get some blood.” Already Gallarael’s limb was pale and purple-green. Though it wasn’t as swollen as it had been on the first day, it was still twice the size of her other arm.

“I think I’d rather have a one-armed lover than a dead one with two.” Matty threw her two coppers in without being asked.

“Her arm needs to have blood flowing,” Vanx said plainly to them all. “If it doesn’t, then it will start to rot and infect her whole body. If there is any poison left in her, I’m sure it’s lost its potency.” Then, as if to punctuate the certainty of his statement, he leaned down and yanked at the knot.

“Ahhh!” Gallarael’s whole body shivered and she sighed loudly. After that she lay still, as still as stone. For a moment Vanx thought she’d died. In the silence, Trevin sniffled, and Darbon pulled Matty away before she could say something else inappropriate. In the few heartbeats of relative silence that followed, Vanx heard a branch snapping. The sound came from a distance, but it was on their side of the water flow. An icy tingle of alarm ran up his spine, but Gallarael muttered something, causing Trevin to rush close to her and start talking in comforting tones.

Throughout the rest of the evening Gallarael seemed no better, yet no worse, than before. With every mile they traveled her arm seemed to improve, but Vanx found no relief in it. His keen Zythian senses were telling him that they were being followed, or maybe hunted. Finally, after a late-day rest break, he told Trevin and the others of his suspicions. Not sure whether to follow Vanx’s instinct, or call him worrisome; the two men followed his lead and took up bows and quivers from the pack.

“I think you’re right,” Trevin whispered a short while later. “I thought I saw a flash of movement far off to the left.”

“Probably just a bird,” Matty chuckled at them. “Or a big squirrel.”

“Or another one of those peeping freaks we saw last night,” Darbon joked, causing Matty to harrumph to hide her fear.

“If it’s one of those things, Kobalts, I think they are called,” Vanx said in a quiet voice, “there will be more than just one of them this time.”

“What I saw was bigger and grey-colored,” said Trevin. “It was low to the ground like a big fox, or maybe a small wolf.”