John Flanagan - The Ruins of Gorlan

This time there were no dreams. Exhausted, he slept soundly until the gray light of dawn.

They saw the Stone Flutes by midmorning – a gray and surprisingly small circle of granite monoliths that stood at the top of a rise in the Plain. Their elected course took the riders a kilometer or so to one side of the Stones and Will was content to go no closer. The depressing song was now louder than ever, ebbing and flowing on the tide of the wind." ext flute player I meet," said Gilan with grim humor, "I'm going to split his lip for him." They rode on, the kilometers passing beneath their horses' hooves, hour after hour, one the same as the next, with nothing new to see and always with the faint howl of the Stones at their back, keeping their nerves on edge.

The Plainsman rose suddenly from the grass some fifty meters away from them. Small, dressed in gray rags and with long hair hanging unkempt to his shoulders, he glared at them through mad eyes for several seconds.

Will's heart had barely recovered from the shock of his sudden appearance when he was off, bent double and running through the grass, seeming to sink into it. Within seconds, he had disappeared, swallowed by the grass. Halt was about to urge Abelard in pursuit, but he stopped. The arrow he had selected instantly and laid on the bowstring remained undrawn. Gilan was also ready to shoot, his reactions every bit as sharp as Halt's. He too held his shot, looking curiously at his senior.

Halt shrugged. "May mean nothing," he said. "Or maybe he's off to tell the Kalkara. But we can hardly kill him on suspicion." Gilan let out a short bark of laughter, more to release the tension he felt as a result of the man's unexpected appearance. "I suppose there's no difference," he said, "whether we find the Kalkara or they find us." Halt's eyes fixed on him for a moment, without any sign of answering humor. "Believe me, Gilan," he said, "there's a big difference." They had abandoned the forced march pace now and walked their horses slowly through the tall grass. Behind them, the sound of the Stones began to fade a little, much to Will's relief. Now, he realized, the wind was carrying it away from them.

Some time passed following the sudden appearance of the Plain dweller, with no further sign of life. A question had been nagging at Will all through the afternoon.

"Halt?" he said experimentally, not sure if Halt would order him to silence. The Ranger looked at him, eyebrows raised in a sign that he was prepared to answer questions, so Will continued. "Why do you think Morgarath has enlisted the Kalkara? What does he stand to gain?"

Halt realized that Gilan was waiting for his answer as well. He marshaled his thoughts before he replied. He was a little reluctant to verbalize his thoughts, as so much of the answer depended on guesswork and intuition, "Who knows why Morgarath ever does anything?" he answered slowly, "I can't give you a definite answer. All I can tell you is what I assume – and what Crowley thinks as well."

He glanced quickly at his two companions. It was obvious from their expectant expressions that they were prepared to accept his assumptions as ironclad fact. Sometimes, he thought wryly, a reputation for being right all the time could be a heavy burden.

"There's a war coming," he went on. "That much is already obvious. The Wargals are on the move and we've heard that Morgarath has been in contact with Ragnak." He saw the puzzled expression flit across Will's face. Gilan, he knew, understood who Ragnak was. "Ragnak is the Oberjarl, or supreme lord, if you like, of the Skandians – the sea wolves. " He saw the quick flash of comprehension and went on.

"This is obviously going to be a bigger war than we've fought before and we're going to need all our resources – and our best commanders to lead us. I think that's what Morgarath has in mind. He's seeking to weaken us by having the Kalkara kill our leaders. Northolt, the supreme army commander, and Lorriac, our best cavalry commander, have gone already. Certainly there will be other men who will step into those positions but there will inevitably be some confusion in the changeover period, some loss of cohesion. I think that's what's behind Morgarath's plan."

Gilan said thoughtfully, "There's another aspect as well. Both those men were instrumental in his defeat last time. He's destroying our command structure and getting revenge at the same time." Halt nodded. "That's true, of course. And to a twisted mind like Morgarath's, revenge is a powerful motive."

"So you think there'll be more killings?" Will asked, and Halt met his gaze steadily. "I think there'll be more attempts. Morgarath has sent them out twice with targets and they've succeeded. I don't see any reason why they won't go after others. Morgarath has reason to hate a lot of people in the kingdom. The King himself, perhaps. Or maybe Baron Arald – he caused Morgarath some grief in the last war." And so did you, Will thought, with a sudden flash of fear for his teacher. He was about to voice the thought that Halt might be a target, then realized that Halt was probably well aware of the fact himself. Gilan was asking the older Ranger another question.

"One thing I don't understand. Why do the Kalkara keep returning to their hideout? Why not just move from one victim to the next?"

"I suppose that's one of the few advantages we do have," Halt told them. "They're savage and merciless and more intelligent than Wargals. But they're not human. They are totally single-minded. Show them a victim and they'll hunt him down and kill him or die themselves in the attempt. But they can only keep track of one victim at a time. Between killings, they'll return to their lair. Then Morgarath – or one of his underlings – will prime them for their next victim and they'll head out again. Our best hope is to intercept them on the way if they've been given a new target. Or kill them in their lair if they haven't."

Will looked for the thousandth time at the featureless grass plain that lay before them. Somewhere out there, the two fearsome creatures were waiting, perhaps with a new victim already in mind. Halt's voice interrupted his train of thought. "Sun's going down," he said. "We may as well camp here." They swung down stiffly from their saddles, easing the girths to make their horses more comfortable. "That's one thing about this blasted place," Gilan said, looking around them. "One spot is as good as another to camp. Or as bad." Will woke from a dreamless sleep to the touch of Halt's hand on his shoulder. He tossed back the cloak, glanced at the scudding moon overhead and frowned. He couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour. He started to say so, but Halt stopped him, placing a finger to his lips for silence. Will looked around and realized Gilan was already awake, standing above him, his head turned to the northeast, back the way they had come, listening.

Will came to his feet, moving carefully to avoid making any undue noise. His hands had automatically gone to his weapons, but he relaxed as he realized there was no immediate threat. The other two were listening intently. Then Halt raised a hand and pointed to the north. "There it is again," he said softly.

Then Will heard it, above the moaning of the Stone Flutes and the soughing of the wind through the grass, and the blood froze in his veins. It was a high-pitched, bestial howl that ululated and climbed in pitch. An inhuman sound carried to them on the wind from the throat of a monster.

Seconds later, another howl answered the first. Slightly deeper in pitch, it seemed to come from a position a little to the left of the first. Without needing to be told, Will knew what the sounds meant. "It's the Kalkara," Halt said grimly. "They have a new target and they're hunting."

THE THREE COMPANIONS SPENT A SLEEPLESS NIGHT AS THE hunting cries of the Kalkara dwindled to the north. When they first heard the sounds, Gilan had moved to saddle Blaze, the bay horse snorting nervously at the fearsome howling of the two beasts. Halt, however, gestured for him to stop. "I'm not going after those things in the dark," he said briefly. "We'll wait till first light, then look for their tracks." The tracks were easy enough to find, as the Kalkara obviously made no attempt to conceal their passing. The long grass had been crushed by the two heavy bodies, leaving a clear trail pointing east-northeast. Halt found the trail left by the first of the two monsters, then a few minutes later, Gilan found the second, about a quarter-kilometer to the left and traveling parallel-close enough to provide support in case of an attack, but distant enough to avoid any trap set for its brother.