The Lengthening Shadow

Everyone may be wondering how Samuel got there. This is how:

The storm was raging fiercer than ever on Ecerlind. Samuel pressed against the storm, wiping snow out of his eyes. The chanting never stopped, and if he looked into the distance he could make out a red glow in a tower.

Morgan and the lizards had burrowed into the snow, making a small cave, and had lit a fire. The chanting continued, and the snow gradually worsened...and worsened...and worsened. Morgan pushed his way to Samuel. “Sam! We need to get off Ecerlind NOW!” Samuel grabbed a bow. He rushed to the edge of the cliff and aimed at the glow. He shot.

The arrow hit its mark. The figure let out an unearthly wail and fell. The chanting fell silent and the snow started to let up. Samuel led the group away from the cliff and down a narrow path. They ran down the ledge, jumping across gaps and sprinting to get off Ecerlind. After a few days of running, they reached the outskirts of Brushtipp. Samuel ran towards the fortress and found a smoking ruin. He wiped a tear from his eye and turned to Morgan. “We’re too late,” he said in a soft voice choked with grief. At that moment he spotted smoke to the south. He ran there, saw Uldrich raising the spike, and shot. That brings us to where we are right now.

Uldrich cried in pain and turned to Samuel. “You stoopid mouse! I’ll get yer…” Morgan hurled a rock, knocking Uldrich unconscious. They charged down into the pirates, slicing their way through to Aidan and Co. Greddez drew a knife and cut the ropes holding the squirrels to the posts. Samuel put his arm around Aidan’s shoulder. “What’s your name, lad?”

Aidan blurted out a quick “Aidan, son of Sedi,” before requesting a weapon. Samuel tossed him the sword of Brushtipp, and rushed off into the crowd. Morgan, Samuel, and Aidan crashed through the crowd of pirates, followed by the rest of the squirrels and Samuel’s crew. Two minutes later, they had escaped the pirate camp and had reached a safe haven, about half a mile away from Brushtipp.

Aidan recounted the events of the previous night, to the interest and grief of Samuel. The mouse drew his sword. “I promise you that I will protect you and keep you from harm in any way I can, even at the cost of my life.” Then he noticed Aidan’s wound, which was turning a sickly green. “What happened?” Aidan grimaced and tapped his arm with a finger, wincing at the pain. “It’s only a pain-inducer; it’s not fatal.” Samuel thought otherwise.

“In that quantity, that poison is fatal. Wyrm Spit is used for torture purposes, but also for killing. We need a Vrandeyl, or some similar talisman, but we don’t have any. My friend Glid Swiftbrush had one, but he’s away at Fernwood.” Swoop flew down, holding a letter. “Hooooo! I think otherwise. Most of Fernwood’s finest are away on the ocean on a mission. You know that Vrandeyls are very scarce, and there is no known animal around here with one, besides Glid. You’ll have to go find him.”

Glid and the rest of the Oak Limb’s crew had fought and killed the rest of the invaders. They had passed through relatively smooth seas to the southern coast of Greenbloom. They had reached the tip of Certaria when Maria shouted “Wreckage! I see wreckage of a ship!” They sailed to the shore and saw the old wreckage of the Vengeful. Glid, Gharris, Maria, and Malcolm came ashore and searched the ruins for anything. Malcolm spotted Maria standing over something. Malcolm looked, and started vomiting.

The nearly dead form of Havaraa was lying on the beach in a circle of dried blood and bowels. They called for the other two, and for a minute, everyone looked at the body. Suddenly, it moved. Havaraa stirred and opened his mouth, coughing up blood. “I...know why you’ve...come. You...want the location.” He coughed some more, and even Glid could see that this was beyond the power of the Vrandeyl. “It’s...the treasure is at…” His heaving breaths started slackening and his eyes began to cloud over. “Dead...Deadbeast...Deadbeast Bluff.” With that, his head lolled to one side. He struggled to get up again. “Please...help me pass.” Glid understood. He drew his sword and stabbed the ferret, not out of enmity, but out of pity. A look of peace crossed the Seer’s face as he died. Suddenly, Maria remembered Brushtipp. “Quick! The pirates are still loose! My home is in danger!”

Gharris looked sad. “I’m sorry, Maria. I received a letter yesterday. Brushtipp is no more. Your parents are dead.” She burst out crying. “No! That can’t be! They’re all safe at home!” The Maow tried to console her. “Aidan is not dead. Think of your brother! Would he want you to be crying like this? No! He would say ‘Maria. Buck up and fight! Don’t waste your life crying!’.”

The squirrelmaid wiped tears off her face. She drew her sword and looked to the west. “You’re right. I will go and find Aidan. He must be alive!”

✝✝✝

It had been three months since Samuel and Morgan had left Fernwood. Every day, Marigold had ran up to the walls, always looking for Samuel’s return. And every day, she had been disappointed, never seeing his face or hearing his voice cry out in greeting.

Jake had been sending out letters far and wide, asking for news of the pair. So far, no answer had come. One day, an owl flew into the courtyard, holding a letter. The Maow king hurried into the yard grabbed the letter, and ripped it open.

Dear Jake,

I know you have had no news of me for three months. I am all right. We have a band of several hundred sand lizards whom we defeated in battle and who now aid us. However, we came too late. Brushtipp has been burned to the ground. Only a score escaped, including Aidan, son of the king.

He has been poisoned with a fatal amount of Wyrm Spit. I estimate he has about two days to live. Please, he needs healing. Send any antidote as quickly as is possible.

I beg for your immediate reply.

Samuel

Jake looked up from the letter, handed it to the owl, and rushed inside. He ran to the highest tower in Fernwood. Opening a drawer, Jake rummaged through bottles, powders, and sacks until he found what he needed. “Aha! Thazancian Gold dust!” He ran outside again while scrawling a reply. He stuffed it into an envelope with a sack of the dust and gave it to the owl. “Here. This should help. Speed well!” The owl, who was obviously Swoop, flew off.

✝✝✝

Swoop returned to Samuel a day later. Samuel ran up to him. “Swoop! Aidan’s in severe pain. I think he’s dying!” Before Swoop could give Samuel the dust, Maria and Co. arrived on the scene. She saw Aidan and grabbed Glid’s Vrandeyl. He whispered something into her ear, and she pressed it to Aidan’s arm. “Hasr thrant vran. Thrana rentsa vran, alorna! Deya yonwë honlera vran unu!” As it had with Malcolm’s wound, the bauble sucked the poison from the gash.

“What in the world are you doing here?” exclaimed Samuel in surprise. “Gharris! Glid! What are you here for?”

“We were searching for any survivors of Brushtipp. It seems like you are the only ones,” answered Glid, “And what are you doing here?”

“We’re running from the pirates. They’ve taken the southern area and are pressing north to Fernwood.”

The little band swelled with the addition of the Fernwooders. They decided to journey south, unknowingly traveling to the dark power at Deadbeast Bluff.

✝✝✝

“I want REVENGE!” shrieked Uldrich Onefang as Vinsley yanked the arrow out of his paw. “That stupid mouse shot me paw! And the otter, e’ it me wid a stone an’ knocked me out cold!” Alrack remained a bit cooler, sitting on a large stump nearby, sharpening his sword on a rock. “So yew say. But let me tell yer sumfink. I. Don’t. Care. A mouse shot yer paw. Big deal,” he rolled his eyes, “Everyone’ll git hit wid an arrow sometime or other. How ‘bout yew stop complainin’ and git on wid bein’ a cap’n!”

Uldrich fell silent and sat grumbling as the ferret wiped his wound clean and bandaged it. Then, the black weasel stood up and spoke again. “Wasn’t our goal ta git that Fernwood place? Well, now that Brushtipp’s out o’ our way, what’s stoppin’ us? Nothin’! I say, we strike while they’re still blubberin’ their ’earts out over the squirrels!” The rest of the pirates nodded in assent, Alrack’s emphatically and immediately, while Uldrich’s corsairs agreed more reluctantly. After a few hours of preparation, the crews moved northward.

✝✝✝

Contrary to Alrack’s prediction, the Fernwooders were not ‘blubberin’ their ‘earts out’ over the destruction of Brushtipp. Actually, they were doing quite the opposite. Knowing that nothing stood between the pirates and Brushtipp except a few small towns, they quickly prepared for war.

With Samuel gone, Marigold joined the Fernwood Knights. As Samuel’s girlfriend, she took his place in all matters. As the mousemaid marched along the walltops, she figured out what it was like to be a knight. Suddenly, Jake got news from northern city of Wheatlock: the forces of Thazanc had overrun Norsän-Ran. A quarter of the Fernwood garrison and local militias were called to Wheatlock to stop the advance, Marigold among them.

Two days later, the four hundred-odd soldiers reached Wheatlock. When they arrived, they got the reports from Dresdin, Mayor of the city.

“The Thazancian troops have taken the hills north of the Ancún River. If we take their post on Erden Hill, we can flank them and win. I need you to take the hill. Can you do it?” Marigold nodded.

An hour later, the Fernwooders and their allies had stationed themselves in a series of narrow gullies on the southern side of the river, and were trading fire with the Thazancians. Marigold grabbed a telescope and peered out at the enemy. Seven large hills on the opposite side of the river had been fortified with wooden barricades.

She could see the flash of fire from their muskets and make out the sun glinting off their helmets. Then she saw it. “Tomhas!” she yelled. Lieutenant Tomhas Kandaro, an experienced fighter, hurried over. “You see those barricades? If the Thazancians hold the higher ground, we don’t have a chance. We need to have just one of those hills. Then, we can take the equipment they left, and haul our small cannon up there. We’ll blow them off the hills!” Tomhas nodded. “Aye, Marigold. Let’s go!”

The Fernwooders aimed at Grotto Hill. It was next to Erden Hill, and seemed to be the most fortified. Tomhas and Marigold, side by side, charged up. In about two hours, they took Grotto Hill. The cannons succeeded in blowing the Thazancians off all of the hills. Except one. Sergeant General Khaizev, one of Smake’s best officers, still held Erden Hill. Marigold mustered about one hundred soldiers, and charged Khaizev’s forces. At the first charge, they were blown back by cannons, but the Fernwooders hauled up their own, and blasted back.

Inside the stone barricades of Erden Hill, Khaizev held a planning session. He laid out a plan: let them come and smash themselves against our walls. We’re strong enough, they’ll never get in here. At that moment, Marigold’s sword impaled him.

Her forces had snuck up to the walls while the Thazancians were lounging around. Their cannons had blasted holes in the barricades while the Fernwooders stormed in. In just a few hours, the Battle of Erden Hill was over.

Militia had fended off other Thazancian troops, but more were practically at Wheatlock’s gates. Marigold and Tomhas were called back to the city on a cliff. Thazancian soldiers had nearly smashed through the outer wall, and were firing shells into the city. Marigold and her troops ran in through a secret entrance and raced up to the walls. She ducked as a huge cannonball came hurtling past her head and exploded in the street below.

She packed several bombs into a cannon and fired, hearing a satisfying explosion and several screams. Dresdin came with more news. “The Thazancians have about six hundred soldiers to our four hundred. The outer wall has been breached, and our outer defensive hill has become their forward position. It has a weak spot, though. See that batch of cannons? If we hit that just right, it might explode and kill the officers and most of their forward artillery. But, if they…”

Marigold did not wait to hear the rest. She grabbed a cannon loaded with explosives, aimed, and fired. There was a huge KABOOM! as the cannon batch blew up, taking the forward position with it, and about a hundred Thazancians. The enemy ran, leaving everything behind. In a minute, Wheatlock was saved in what would become known as the First Battle of Wheatlock. Ra’vok had plans for it in the coming war. But for now, the Thazancian approach would be stopped, as long as Wheatlock held the hills.

A day later, the army came marching back in triumph to Fernwood. Jake walked out to greet them. “I have heard of your courage in battle, young Marigold. Samuel would be proud.” She bowed and answered, “Thank you, your majesty. It was my duty.” They made all the necessary arrangements and settled back into Fernwood life.

✝✝✝

Samuel would have been proud, but he was busy right now. They had been marching for a day and two nights. They had changed course and started northeast from the ruins of Brushtipp. Then, both Aidan and Malcolm’s wounds had opened up again. Crackwillow’s diagnosis confirmed the mouse’s fear.

“Yes, the poison has come back. This is beyond my healing powers. We need a more powerful Verdancer.” Suddenly, Aidan remembered a conversation he had overheard one night at Brushtipp. If you travel northeast for a day and a half, you will come upon the cave of Tarsch. He called weakly to the rest. “I know...where one...is.” He told them what he remembered.

Crackwillow looked surprised and glared in mock anger. “You young scamp! You weren’t supposed to be listening to that!”

“Sorry.”

Samuel noticed a flaw. “We were going south for a day and two nights, and we only just changed our course. We’ll have to go northeast for the equivalent of four and a half days. Crackwillow, do you think Aidan and Malcolm can survive that long?” The squirrel scratched his chin. “Maybe, maybe not. There is a chance that they may, but I can’t be sure. Let’s just try, and hope for the best.”

Aidan smiled. “Well...that’s reassuring.”

The company turned northeast and started making their way to the cave of Tarsch. There were many obstacles, and it might take a while longer than four and a half days.

Tarsch, sitting in his cave, felt something changing. He sensed the trouble in the north; he heard the screams and the burning villages; he knew the pain they were feeling. He had seen the great battle of Râdalerdê, when the Wizards fought the armies of Mist. He had been in the final confrontation with Admiral Mist.

The pain of loss was something he had felt before. He had seen Mist give his last strength to wound Ra’vok and turn him to darkness. Ra’vok had not been evil in the beginning. It was the blade of Mist, stabbing into his heart, that had turned him to evil.

The malice and demonacy of Mist had been passed on to Ra’vok, so that even now, the Admiral was still fulfilling his purpose of destruction. Mist’s remains had been put to good uses, but there was still an evil in them. The Vrandeyls had been made with his scales, but they could, every thousandth time they were used, kill instead of heal.

He knew a group was coming, a group that would require his healing skill. He spoke the words and looked in his scrying mirror. He could see a mouse and a squirrel lying on stretchers. He knew that they were the sick ones; he knew Wyrm poison when he saw it. He turned his view to what lay ahead of the group. It was not good.

He saw a regiment of Thazancians, led by Captain Ordinv. They had been tracking the company since their journey up Ecerlind. If the company was waylaid, Aidan and Malcolm would die. He grabbed his wand. Ordinv and his soldiers were blocking the last stretch to his cave. If the pair died, well, he didn’t like to think about it.