Where Darkness Treads: Book Two—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Sixteen: Of Fangs and Ashes

The battle raged wherever the Neeri looked. It was impossible to tell how well they were doing, for the clash was evolving way too fast. Everywhere she looked, seemed to be a moving mismatch of fur, scales, and skin.

One of the black scaled terrors had downed and killed an archer. The same fanged killer slammed into Donovan from behind, knocking him from his horse. Prince Donovan attempted to roll onto his feet, though he was obviously half-dazed from the fall. Somehow, he managed to gather his wits and was able to defend himself from the creature's murderous onslaught.

Abruptly, Brenna unleashed a powerful bluish-white bolt, which impacted black-scaled flesh. There had been no time for half-measures, and she had reacted instinctively. The energy of the blast struck the scaled creature's side, hurling it away. Smoke billowed from the stricken horror, filling the air with the acrid smell of burnt flesh. Noiselessly, the creature collapsed to the ground and lay still.

Girard had dismounted and now spun, while evading a leap from one of their attackers. As the creature hurtled by him in mid-leap, he sliced along its abdomen. In a tangle of intestines, the creature fell heavily. With a loud piercing cry, the creature shuddered and lay still. The crackle and thud of power being released, drew Donovan's attention to Aberith, who had just destroyed one of the black monsters with lightning. Its charred and smoking corpse simply collapsed with a scream where it stood.

Another of the scaled killers spun and prepared to attack an armored knight, who was rising from the ground. It never had a chance, for the great scaled head of a raken darted in and with a sickening crunch, ended the monster's life. As quickly as the attack started, it abruptly ended. Slowly, everyone who had survived, was now warily checking to make sure each of the eight scaled attackers was dead.

Changa approached with sword in hand, while carefully prodding the body of one of the scaled beasts. His arms were spattered with blood which glistened in the sunlight. "Are you alright, sister?"

"I am fine, seeing as we have managed to kill the last of these vile vermin. What in the world are they?" Brenna asked hesitantly.

"Obviously, creatures created by Bemenah, to hunt every last one of us down." Aberith stood, brushing himself off.

"Whatever they are, I have never in all my travels seen a beast leap as far, nor run as fast as these creatures can," Girard said in a matter of fact tone.

"My friend, this day they fought against the wrong people. Through skill, strength, and steel we prevailed. We sent the lot of them to the Great Hag's bag and in the future let us send many more," Sir Alfred commented. With great care, he now was cleaning his bloodstained great sword.

"I could not have said it better, my friend," Changa said, clapping the big man on the shoulder.

"How many men did we lose?" Morgan inquired, while looking around, as she approached Prince Donovan, who was wiping sticky dark-red blood from his face, with a leather gloved hand.

"We lost a total of nine," Donovan said quietly, while reaching for his water skin. He stood still, as Morgan began to wash the gore from his face, with a moistened dressing.

"It appears, the Dreena took the brunt of the losses, this time. We lost twelve of our finest. The enemy seeks to wear us down, to send us away to huddle in the dark, begging for mercy. Little do they know we are fully committed to helping find the sanctuary and what is hidden within." Celete was silently walking towards them, with a grim smile. The warrior priestess, at least for now, had appeared to rid herself of the anger which had held sway over her earlier. Donovan nodded towards her approvingly.

"Seeing as the enemy is determined to ambush and attack us every step of the way, perhaps we should change our tactics," Brenna commented to Prince Everin and Donovan. The Neeri shooed Nadu, who had just landed on her shoulder, away again. With an irritated squawk, Nadu flew to a nearby overhanging branch, where it perched while chattering indignantly.

"What do you propose?" Donovan asked, hesitantly.

"We desperately need to see what is ahead of us, to avoid the enemy, as much as is possible. I am going to provide us with a scout, to guide the way," Brenna said simply.

"Exactly, how do you plan on doing this?" Timitz asked, with a chuckle.

"Like this." Brenna transformed into a henna falcon and launched herself into the air. With mighty beats of her wings, she rapidly gained altitude and left everyone far behind.

Gliding effortlessly, Brenna's incredibly sharp eyesight scanned the land below her, for any signs of danger. It appeared as if the enemy had fled the area, once they had released the scaled killers.

Far ahead, in the distance, lay the three mountains which had appeared in her dreams, for some time now. Brenna immediately flew straight for them, taking care to look for any sign of the enemy.

Sometime later, Brenna was approaching a vast swamp, which sat at the base of the mountains. The swamp extended for miles upon miles, in either direction. Nothing stirred in the great soupy wasteland, not even a bird. Trees, which grew along the bogs edge, were grotesquely twisted and sickly. "So, here, lies the dreaded Great Black Thorn Swamp. The sight made the Neeri shiver, as the black fetid waters, were briefly roiled by something which remained hidden beneath the dark foul surface. Tales and rumors surfaced in her mind, forcing her to recall horrors, spoken of by her mother and father, and visitors, who sat around flame shrouded wood of a blazing campfire."

Patiently, the Neeri crisscrossed the great bog below, intently searching for any sign of the enemy or the sanctuary. No matter how hard she searched, Brenna could not locate any signs of a structure. Finally, she decided to return to the others, who would be anxiously awaiting her return.

Approximately two hours later, Brenna returned. Prince Donovan and Prince Everin were standing on the edge of their encampment, observing their force setup camp. The sky overhead was overcast; not a star could be seen in the sky. Indeed, there was not even a breeze to rustle leaves or grass. The Neeri landed in a rush of feathers and transformed back into human form. Immediately, a look of relief filled both Prince Donovan and Prince Everin's face. It was obvious the hardships of the day were weighing down on both, immensely.

"I've seen the Great Black Thorn Swamp its festering presence is less than a week’s ride from here. I saw no trace of the enemy they must have withdrawn again." Brenna rubbed her arms, to ward off the chill she felt, while recalling the roiling of the black waters.

"What of the Sanctuary of the Living Waters, did you spot it?" Donovan inquired.

"Curiously enough, no, I didn't. I searched and searched and could find no trace of any temple, or structure. Nothing but a huge swamp which extends for many miles, and three mountains which tower over it."

The sound of multiple footsteps announced the approach of Morgan, Girard, Sir Alfred, and Changa. "That's pretty much what I expected. This quest has presented us with more than our fair share of challenges, and it's not going to proceed any easier," Sir Alfred commented.

"You know what? I think you're right," Brenna stated, before she began walking toward the roaring campfire. Once more, the black surface of the swamp stirred, in her memory, filling her with fear, and loathing. Approaching the vast swamp was the last thing the Neeri wanted to do, yet first thing in the morning, after breakfast, all of them would mount up, and continue their journey to finish their quest. Fervently, she began to whisper a prayer.

Six days later, all of them finally arrived at the Great Black Thorn Swamp. The rest of the trip had proven to be uneventful, for no sign of the enemy, was to be found. Brenna knew Bemenah would not wait long, before sending in his underlings, to once more attack them. He had to know they were close to completing the quest. The enemy was sure to attack with everything they had.

Silently, Brenna stood upon the top of a ridge, studying the darkness of the swamp, below her. Moonlight revealed small patches of fog silently drifting along. Each momentarily cast portions of the immense bog, into deep shadow. An owl hooted in the distance its cry was strangely distorted by the Great Black Thorn swamp. Of all places, Brenna dreaded these vast wetlands, the most. Beneath your feet, the surface quaked with every move, as if a ravenous beast, lurked below. Old tales, spoke of ancient evil, which dwelt beneath these ageless pits. Ever hungry, for the warmth of life it could not possess, the evil waited silently below the surface, for its next unfortunate victim.

Donovan and Prince Everin, walked over to stand beside Brenna. Their presence, served to help calm her down, somewhat. All the talk of swamps and bogs in Donovan's room had served to fill her with dread. It, was all just silly superstition, wasn't it?

"Deep inside, I fear what we may awaken from the depths of this swamp. There must be another way to reach what we seek," Donovan said in a lowered voice.

Brenna turned toward them, while a cold chill ran down her spine. "I do not like this place at all, it stinks of death. Surely, Elliana would not ask us to risk our lives by venturing into this bog."

"For the sake of our sanity, let's make camp upon the ridge, near the stream over there. At least up there, we will stand a chance of getting some fresh air," Prince Everin stated.

"I agree entirely," Brenna replied. The wind had changed, and the air was filled with the odor of rotting things.