Transcendence
PART 1 TO THE EDGE OF DARKNESS Chapter 1 First Blood
PART ONE TO THE EDGE OF DARKNESS
I cannot begin to explain the tremendous shift that has come to Caer'alfar since the demon Bestesbulzibar left its stain, its growing rot, upon our fair valley. For centuries, we of the People have lived in relative seclusion, peaceful and content. Only the rangers knew of us, truly, and a select few of Honce-the-Bear's ruling families. Our concern with the ways of the wider world ended with the potential impact any happenings might have upon us. Thus the rangers, while protectors of the human settlements on the outskirts of human civilization, were also our link to that world, our eyes in the field.
That was enough.
Bestesbulzibar has apparently changed all of that. Curing the time of the DemonWar, I was.
assaulted by that demon, while transporting some poor human refugees away from the goblin andpowrie hordes. I would have perished in that battle - perhaps I should have! - except that Lady GaSStefoncTamved and took up my battle. She, too, would have perished, but she used her magical emerald to take us back to the place of her greatest power, back to Andur'Blough Inninness, just outside of Caer'alfar. There, Dasslerond drove the demon away, but not before Bestesbulzibar had left its indelible stain upon our fair land, a mark enduring, and growing.
I believe that if Dasslerond had understood the cost, she never would have brought us all back to the valley, that she and I would have died on the field that day.
For then we would be gone, but Andur'Blough Inninness would live on.
That rotting stain has done more than change the complexion of our fair valley, it has changed the perspective of Lady Dasslerond. The Touel'alfar have existed by remaining on the outskirts, passive observers in a world too frenzied for our tastes. We do not involve ourselves in the affairs of humans - how many times have I been chided by Lady Dasslerond and my peers for my friendship with Elbryan andjilseponie?
Now, though, Lady Dasslerond has assumed a more active role outside of Andur'Blough Inninness. She sends Brynn south to free To-gai from the Behrenese, mostly because the nomads of To-gai will prove much more accommodating and friendly toward our people should the demon stain force us out of our home. In that event, we would go south, through the Belt-and-Buckle and across To-gai, to another of our ancient homelands, Caer'Towellan, where perhaps our brethren still reside.
Still, despite the potential gains should that event occur, I am surprised that Dasslerond has sent Brynn Dharielle to begin a war, human against human. If we were forced to journey southward, we could do so, I am certain, whether the To-gai-ru or the Yatol Chezru Chieftain ruled the steppes. But Lady Dasslerond insisted upon this, as much so as on anything I have ever witnessed. She is truly fearful of the demon stain.
And so she undertakes her second unusual stance, and this one frightens me even more than the journey she has determined for Brynn. She took }ilseponie's child, unbeknownst to the mother. She took the child ofElbryan and Jilseponie, right from its mother's womb! True, her action saved the lives of both Jilseponie andAydrian that dark night on the field outside ofPalmaris, for had not Dasslerond intervened to drive away the demon-possessed Markwart, both humans would surely have perished.
Still, to raise the child as her, as our, own...
And the manner of that upbringing scares me even more - perhaps as much as the reason for the upbringing. Lady Dasslerond has plans for Brynn, but they pale compared to her goals for young Aydrian. He will be the one to deliver Andur'Blough Inninness from the demon stain, at the sacrifice of his own blood and his own life. He will become the epitome of what it is to be a ranger, and then, when that is achieved, he will become Dasslerond's sacrifice to the earth, that the demon stain be lifted.
She has foreseen this, my Lady has told me, in no uncertain terms. She knows the potential of her plan. All that she must do is bring Aydrian to the required level of power and understanding.
But there's the rub, I fear. For Aydrian Wyndon, raised without the gentle touch of his mother or the love of his father, raised in near seclusion with harsh treatment and high standards from the moment he was old enough to understand them, will not he complete as a man, let alone as a ranger. There was a side to Elbryan, the Nightbird, beyond his abilities with the sword and his understanding of nature. The greatest gift ofNightbird, the greatest strength of the man Elbryan, was compassion, was a willingness to sacrifice every thing for the greater good. Nightbird's gift to the world was his death, when he threw his wounded form fully into Jilseponie's final battle with the demon-possessed Markwart, knowing full well that he could not survive that conflict, that, in aiding Jilseponie, he would be giving his very life.
He did that. He didn't hesitate, because Nightbird was possessed of so much more than we of the Touel'alfar ever gave to him - because Elbryan the Nigh third was a man of true character and true community.
Will the child raised alone and unloved he as much?
This is my fear.
Chapter 1 First Blood
They were out of the mountains now, and the going was smooth and easy. Diredusk most of all seemed to revel in the softer and flatter ground, the powerful pinto pony striding long and eagerly under Brynn's expert handling. True to his noble To-gai heritage, the pony could trot for many miles before needing a break, and even then, he was quickly ready to be back on the trail, straining against Brynn's hold to travel faster and faster.
For Brynn, riding along quiet forest trails on a late-spring or early-summer day was about as wonderful as things could get, and would have been perfect - except that with every passing mile the young ranger's eyes turned back less and looked forward ever more eagerly. She couldn't enjoy the ride as much when the destination was all-important.
Belli'mar Juraviel rode with the woman at times, Diredusk hardly feeling the extra weight of the diminutive creature. The elf typically sat in front of Brynn, turned to face the woman and lying back along the pony's powerful neck. He didn't speak to Brynn much along the trails, though, for he could see that the woman was falling deeper and deeper into thought about the destination awaiting them. That's what Juraviel wanted from the young woman; that's what the Touel'alfar demanded of the ranger. The goal was all-important, because Lady Dasslerond had said it was, and nothing else should clutter Brynn Dharielle's mind - not the fragrance of the summer forest awakening fully, not the sounds of the songbirds, not even the sparkle of the morning sun on the dewy grasses and leaves.
And so they rode quietly, and sometimes Juraviel leaped from Diredusk's back and fluttered up to the branches of the trees, moving to higher vantage points to scout the road ahead.
Their evenings, too, were for the most part quiet, sitting about a fire, enjoying their evening meal. In this setting, with little stimulation about them, Brynn would sometimes tell Juraviel stories of her homeland, of her parents and their small nomadic tribe, Kayleen Kek. On one such night, with Andur'Blough Inninness a hundred miles behind them, the woman became especially nostalgic.
"We always went to the higher ground in the summer," she told her com-panion. ?Up the sides of the great mountains in the range you call the Belt-and-Buckle, but that we called Uleshon Twak, the Dragon Spines.
We'd camp so high sometimes that it was hard simply to draw in sufficient air. You'd always feel as if you couldn't catch your breath. Every step seemed to take minutes to execute, and a tent in sight might take you an hour to walk to. I remember that at times blood would run from my nose, for no reason. My mother would fret over me, but my father would just say that the high-sickness could do that and it was nothing to bother about."
Juraviel watched her as she continued her tale, her head tilted back so that her eyes were staring up at the night canopy. It wasn't starry that night, with thickening clouds drifting in from the west. The full moon, Sheila, shone behind those clouds, sometimes seeming a pale full light, other times disappearing completely behind a dark and thick blanket.
Brynn wasn't seeing it, any of it, Juraviel knew. She was looking across the years as much as across the distance. She was seeing the crisp night sky from a camp of deerskin tents fiested among great boulders on the high slopes of the Belt-and-Buckle( She was pearing her mother's laugh, perhaps, and her father's stern but loving comrrtands. She was hearing the nickers of the nearby To-gai ponies, so loyal-that they didn't need to be tethered, as they protested the sparse grasses at the great elevation.
That was good, Juraviel knew. Let per recall the feeling of the old days, of her life before Andur'Blough Inninness. Let her remember clearly how much she had lost, how much To-gai had lost, so that her calls to her people to reclaim their heritage would be even more full of passion and conviction.
"Do they still go to the high passes?" Juraviel prompted.
Brynn's expression changed as she lowered her gaze to regard the elf, as if one of the clouds from the sky had dropped down to cross over her fair features. ?I know not," she admitted somberly. ?When I was taken by your people, the Chezru were trying to establish permanent villages."
"The To-gai-ru must walk the land with the creatures," said Juraviel. ?That is their way."
"More than our way. It is our spirit, our path to..." She paused - unsure, it seemed.
"Your path to what?" the elf asked. ?To heaven?"
Brynn looked at him curiously, and then nodded. ?To our heaven," she explained. ?There on the high plateaus.
There in the autumn valleys, full of the golden flowers that bloom to herald the cold winds. There by the sum-mer streams, swollen with melt. There, following the deer."
"The Chezru do not see the value of such a life," Juraviel noted. ?They are not a wandering people."
"Because their deserts are not suited to such a lifestyle," said Brynn. ?They have their many oases, and their great cities, but to wander through the sea-sons would not show them much beauty beyond those denned enclaves. Behren is not like To-gai, not a land of differing beauties in differing seasons. Thus they do not understand us and thus they try to change us."
"Perhaps they believe that in giving villages to the To-gai-ru, they will be showing the To-gai-ru the path to a better life."
"No," Brynn was answering before the elf even finished the statement, and Juraviel knew that he would elicit strong disagreement here - indeed, that was his goal. ?They want us in villages, even cities, that they might bet-ter control us. In villages, they can watch the clans, but out on the plains, we would be free to practice the old ways and to speak ill of our conquerors."
"But the gains," the elf said dramatically. ?The stability of existence."
"The trap of possession!" Brynn was quick to argue. ?Cities are prisons and nothing more. When they run correctly, they trap you, they make you dependent on the comforts they provide. But they take from you - oh, they take so much!"
"What do they take?" There was an unintended urgency to Juraviel's tone. He could tell that he was getting to Brynn, driving her on, which was precisely his duty.
"They take away the summer plateaus, the mountain wind, and the smell.... oh, the scents of the high fields in the summer! They take away the swollen rivers, full of leaping fish. They take away the rides, the ponies charging across the open steppe. Oh, you should hear that sound, Belli'mar! The thunder of the To-gai-ru charge!"
She was breathing hard as she finished, her brown eyes sparkling with energy, as if she were witnessing that charge - as if she was leading that charge. She finally came out of her trance a bit and looked to the elf.
"I will witness it," came Belli'mar Juraviel's soft and assuring answer. ?I will."
Their road remained fairly straight south over the next few days, and Brynn was under the impression that they had but a single goal here: to get to To-gai and begin the process of liberation.
That's what Juraviel and the others had told her, but the elf knew that he and Brynn had other things to attend to before beginning the long process of placing Brynn at the front of a revolution. Brynn Dharielle had been trained in the rigorous manner that had produced rangers from Andur'Blough In-ninness for centuries, but, as fine as that training might be, Juraviel knew that it had its limitations. Even the most difficult trials - for Brynn, one had involved shooting targets from the saddle and at a gallop - were with-out the greatest of consequences, and hence, without the true understand-ing of the disaster that could be failure. For failing a test in Andur'Blough Inninness could mean humiliation and weeks of intense corrective training, but failing a test out here would likely mean death. Brynn had to learn that, had truly to appreciate all that she had to lose.
And so, on that morning when Belli'mar Juraviel took note of some curi-ous tracks crossing the soft ground in front of them - tracks so subtle that Brynn didn't even notice them from horseback - he allowed the woman to move obliviously past the spot, then studied the trail more closely. Juraviel knew the tracks, had seen them many, many times during the days of the Demon War, when he had traveled beside Nightbird and Jilseponie battling Bestesbulzibar's minions. The tracks were like those of a human, a young human, perhaps. But those made by shod feet revealed a poorly crafted boot, and those made by bare feet showed a telltale flatness in the arch and a wide expanse at the toes narrowing almost to a point at the heels.
Goblins. Moving east and in no apparent hurry.
Juraviel looked up and studied the area, even going so far as to sniff the breeze, but then he smiled at himself and shook his head. The tracks were probably a day old, he knew. These goblins were likely long gone.
But he knew the direction.
To Brynn's surprise, JurayieLannounced that they had to turn to the east for a bit. She didn't argue/of cobrse, for he was her guide, and so with a shrug, she brought Dirediisk in line behind the moving elf. When that day ended, the pair had put twenty miles behind them, but in truth, they were no closer to the steppes of Tpai than they had been the previous day, something that Brynn surely/took note of.
"Are we to travel around the world, then?" she asked sarcastically after they had eaten their dinner of vegetable stew. ?Perhaps that way, we can sneak up on the Chezru from behind."
"The straight line is always the shortest distance, 'tis true," the elf replied. ?But it is not always the swiftest."
"What does that mean? What have you seen up ahead?" Brynn got up and looked to the south. ?Monsters?"
"There is no barrier looming to the south, but this road is better, I believe."
Brynn stared hard at the cryptic elf for some time, but Juraviel went back to his eating and didn't return the look. He wanted to keep the mystery, wanted to have Brynn off-balance and wondering. He didn't want her to know what was coming, and likely coming the very next day.
Later on, when Brynn was asleep, Juraviel hopped, flew, and climbed up the tallest tree he could find and peered through the dark night to the east.
There was the campfire, as he had expected. It was a long way off, to be sure.
But the goblins, he believed, weren't in any hurry.
Brynn stared through the tangle of trees, sorting out the distinct and con-fusing lines until she was fully focused on the ugly little creatures beyond.
They were diminutive - not as much so as the Touel'alfar, but smaller than Brynn. Their skin color ranged from gray to sickly yellow to putrid green, and hair grew in splotches about their heads, backs, and shoulders.
Elon-gated teeth, misshapen noses, and sloping foreheads only added to the gen-erally wretched mix. Brynn wasn't close enough to smell the creatures, but she could well imagine that such an experience wouldn't be pleasant.
She turned and looked up to Juraviel, who was sitting comfortably on a branch. ?Goblins?" she asked, for though she had heard of the creatures during her stay with the elves, she had never actually seen one.
"The vermin are thick about these stretches," Juraviel answered, ?out-side the borders of the human kingdoms."
Brynn thought things over carefully, particularly their unexpected change in course of the previous day. ?You knew they were here," she reasoned. ?You brought me here to see them. But why?"
Juraviel spent a long moment looking through the trees to the goblin group. Several of them were visible, and he suspected that more were about, probably out destroying something, a tree or an animal, just for the fun of it. ?You do not know that I brought you here to see them," he said.
Brynn chuckled at him. ?But why?" she asked again.
Juraviel shrugged. ?Perhaps it is merely a fortunate coincidence."
"Fortunate?"
"It is good that you should view these creatures," the elf explained. ?A new experience to widen your understanding of a world much larger than you can imagine."
Brynn's expression showed that she could accept that, but Juraviel added, ?Or perhaps I feel it is my - our - duty to better the world wherever we may."
Brynn looked at him curiously.
"They are goblins, after all."
The woman's expression didn't change. ?Goblins who seem not to be bothering anybody or anything."
"Perhaps that is because there is no one or nothing about for them to bother at this moment," Juraviel replied.
"Am I understanding your intent correctly?" the young ranger asked, turning back to survey the distant, undeniably peaceful scene of the small goblin camp. ?Do you want us to attack this group?"
'Straight out? No," Juraviel answered. ?Of course not - there are too many goblins about for that to be wise.
No, we must be more stealthy and cunning in our methods."
When Brynn looked back to him, she wore an expression that combined curiosity, confusion, and outrage.
"We could go around them and leave them in peace."
'And fear forever after for the mischief they would cause."
Brynn was shaking her head before Juraviel ever finished, but the elf pressed on dramatically. ?For the families who would soon enough grieve for loved ones slain by the evil creatures. For the forests destroyed and dese-crated, the animals senselessly slaughtered - not for food or clothing, but just for entertainment."
"And if we murder this band, then we are no better than the goblins, by any measure," Brynn declared, and she tilted her head back, her expression proud and idealistic. ?Is it not our compassion that elevates us? Is it not our willingness to find peace and not battle, that makes us better than creatures such as this?"
"Would you be so generous if those were Yatol priests about that distant encampment?" the elf slyly asked.
"That is different."
"Indeed," came the obviously sarcastic reply.
"The Yatol priests chose their course - one that invites revenge from To-gai," Brynn reasoned. ?The goblins did not choose their heritage."
"Thus you reason that every single Yatol priest took part in the atrocities perpetrated upon your people? Or are they all guilty for the sins of the few?"
"Every Yatol priest, every Chezru, follows a creed that leads to such con-quest," Brynn argued. ?Thus every Yatol priest is an accomplice to the atroc-ities committed by those followi0|f utieif-?inrnf>n creed!"
"The goblins have visited more grief upon the world than ever did the Yatol priests."
"Being a part of that group, gobliris, is not a conscious choice, but merely a consequence of parentage.
Surely you of the Touel'alfar, who are so wise, can see the difference."
Belli'mar Juraviel smiled widely at the compassionate young ranger's rea-soning, though he knew, from his perspective garnered through centuries of existence, that she was simply wrong. ?Goblins are not akin to the other thinking and reasoning races," he explained. ?Perhaps their heritage is not their choice, but their actions are universally predictable and deplorable. Never have I seen, never have I heard of a single goblin who goes against the creed that is their culture and heritage. Not once in the annals of history has a goblin been known to step forward and deny the atrocities of its wretched kin. No, my innocent young charge, I'll not suffer a goblin to live, and neither will you."
Brynn winced at the direct edict, one that obviously did not sit well on her slender shoulders.
"I brought you here because there before us is a stain upon the land, a blight and a danger, and there before us is our duty, clear and obvious."
Brynn glanced back as she heard the commanding, undebatable tone.
"We will search the forest about the encampment first," Juraviel went on. ?Thinning the herd as much as possible before going to an open battle."
"Striking with stealth and from behind?" Brynn asked with clear sarcas.
But her accusation, for that is what was obviously intended, was lost on uraviel, who replied simply and with ultimate coldness, ?Whatever works."
Less than an hour later, Brynn found herself crawling through the brush south of the goblin camp, for she and Juraviel had worked themselves around the location. The ranger moved with all the stealth the TouePalfar had taught her, easing each part of her - elbow, knee, foot, and hand - down slowly, gradually shifting her weight and feeling keenly the turf be-low, taking care to crunch no old leaves and snap no dried twigs.
A dozen feet before her, a pair of goblins labored noisily, one of them breaking small sticks from the trees and tossing them back to its ugly com-panion, who was hard at work with a small stick and bow, trying to start a fire. Brynn and Juraviel had overheard a pair of the creatures a short way back, and Juraviel understood enough of the guttural language to relay to Brynn that the goblins were planning to set great fires to flush out easy kills.
Brynn paused as she considered that conversation, for she had argued against JuraviePs clear implication that the goblin plans proved his point about the creatures' temperament. Humans hunted, after all - the To-gai were particularly adept at it. Perhaps this was only a difference in method. Lying there, Brynn understood how weak her argument had been. The amount of kindling that was being piled and the sheer joy on the face of the goblin who intended to set the blaze told her that this was about much more than a simple hunt for food.
Still...
Juraviel had given Brynn his sword for this unpleasant business, though in her hands it was no more than a large and slender dagger. That would work better than her staff or bow for now, though, for this had to be done quickly and quietly. Especially quietly.
She continued forward another couple of feet, then a bit more. She could hear the creatures clearly, could smell them. With mud streaked about her face, and leaves and twigs strapped to her clothing, Brynn understood logi-cally that she was somewhat camouflaged, but still she could hardly believe that the goblins hadn't taken note of her yet!
The one bent over trying to start the fire yelped suddenly and started to stand. Its companion, closer to Brynn, looked to regard it, smiling stupidly, apparently thinking that the fire was starting to catch.
But there were only wisps of smoke, then the goblin, halfway upright, yelped again, and then again, and its companion's expression shifted to curiosity.
And then Brynn was behind it, her hand coming around to clamp over its mouth, her dagger, Juraviel's silverel sword, driving deep into the creature's back, just to the side of the backbone, sinking deep to reach for the goblin's heart. Brynn felt that keenly - so very keenly! She felt the flesh tearing, the varying pressures as the dagger slid through, and then felt an almost electri-cal shock, as if she had touched the very essence of the creature's life force, the point of the weapon acting as a channel to let that life force flow freely from the goblin's body.
The other goblin yelped again and fell over. Then it yelped - or tried to - yet again, and clutched at its throat.
The goblin in her arms went limp and she eased it to the ground, think-ing that she should go and finish the other. It was a forced thought, though, for all that Brynn wanted to do at that horrible moment was fall to her knees and scream out in protest. She growled those feelings away and steadied herself for the necessary task at hand, pulling free the bloodied sword and considering her next kill. Belli'mar Juraviel was at the other gob-lin before her, though, standing over the creature, his small bow drawn back fully.
He put another arrow into the squirming^gdblin, then another. And then a third, and the creature seemed as if it would not die!
The next arrow drove through the side of its head. It gave a sudden, vi-cious spasm, and the light went out of the goblin's eyes.
It was all Brynn could manage to keepjteafs flowing from her eyes, to keep from crying out in horror and revulsion, and pain.
So much pain.
Was this why she had trained as a ranger? Or was ?ranger" even the proper word? Was it, perhaps, merely a cover for the true intention of her training, the true title she should drape across her shoulders: assassin?
"Come, and quickly," Juraviel said to her, drawing her back from her in-ner conflict. Hardly thinking, she followed the elf along the circuitous route, until they happened upon another goblin, out collecting kindling.
It was dead before it even knew they were there.
The perimeter was secured then, and so the pair focused their attention on the encampment itself, where a band of more than a half dozen of the creatures milled about and sat around the smoldering embers of the previ-ous night's fire. They had a large, rusty pot sitting atop it, and every once in a while, one went over to it and ladled out some foul-looking stew.
"We could wait to see if others wander out alone," Juraviel said to her. ?Take them down one or two at a time."
Brynn winced visibly at the thought, wanting all of this to be over as quickly as possible.
"The time for stealth is ended," she said determinedly, and started to rise, intending to charge straight into the band.
Juraviel caught her by the arm and held her fast. ?What is a To-gai-ru war-rior's greatest weapon?" he asked.
"Even beyond courage and the bow?"
Brynn nodded and handed him his small sword, then turned about, understanding. A few minutes later, the goblins in the encampment stood and looked cu-riously to the north, to the crashing and thumping echoing out of the forest.
grynn Dharielle, astride Diredusk, came through the last line of brush with bow drawn. She took the goblin farthest to the right first, dropping it ?with hardly a squeak, then got her second arrow away, knocking a goblin away from the cooking pot, a bowlful of stew flying over it as it toppled backward.
A quick and fluid movement had the bow unstrung, and Brynn tucked it under her right arm like a lance as she guided Diredusk to a course right past a third, stunned creature. The goblin's face exploded in a shower of blood, the sturdy darkfern bow smashing through. Brynn cut Diredusk hard to the left, the pony trampling the next goblin in line, then running down yet another as it tried to flee. Now Brynn swung the staff like a club, whistling it past another goblin's face, a near miss that had the creature div-ing back to the ground.
By then, though, her momentum had played out. She reached the far end of the encampment, leaving three goblins standing, no longer surprised, and collecting their weapons. Where was Juraviel? Why hadn't she heard the high-pitched twang of his small bow or the yelps of stuck goblins?
Brynn tugged hard on the reins, bringing her pony to a skidding stop and quick turn. She flanked around to the left, going to a half seat and bending low over Diredusk's neck as the horse easily leaped a pair of logs set out as benches.
Brynn yanked him hard to the left as he landed, lining up a second run at the center of the camp. The three goblins, though, had wisely retreated to the fringes of the forest, using brush and trees for cover, and the only target she found was the goblin she had narrowly missed on her first pass, the creature stumbling as it tried to rise. Her aim was better this time, the swinging bow smacking it across the back of the head as she thundered past, launching the creature facefirst. It crashed against the cooking pot, knocking it over, then it tumbled down right onto the hot embers. How that goblin howled and thrashed! Its scraggly hair ignited, its skin burned and curled!
With movements so fast and so fluid that they defied the goblins' com-prehension, Brynn bent and strung her bow as she lifted her leg over the horse's back, then set an arrow as she dropped from Diredusk into a charge.
She pegged the closest goblin right between the eyes, dropped into a roll to avoid a thrown spear from a second, set an arrow as she rolled, and came up firing.
Then there was one.
A flick of Brynn's wrist had the bow unstrung as she charged.
The goblin, obviously unsure, obviously terrified, started to run. Then it changed its mind and turned, crude spear presented before it. It thrust out as Brynn came in, but the skilled ranger slapped the awkward attack aside and started forward for what looked like a quick victory.
Started forward, but stopped abpaptry\as the brush to the side parted and a second goblin burst through,/ chargingxat the ranger with a small and rusty dagger.
Brynn turned sidelong and started to bring herbow-staff to bear, but the first goblin came back in hard. The ranger adeptly changed the momentum of her weapon, grabbing it up high with her left hand, reversing the grip, then thrusting the staff right back to the side in an underhand movement, guiding it with her right hand, holding on with her left. The charging spear-wielder had its weapon back, trying to gain momentum for its thrust at that moment, and so there was nothing in place to block Brynn s stab before the staff connected with the goblin's face.
Brynn let her weapon drop then, confident that the goblin was out of the fight for a while at least. She wove her hands furiously before her to set a defense against the goblin with the knife. Her balanced and precise move-ments slowed the goblin just a bit, as it tried to find some hole in the sud-den defense, and that was all Brynn needed. She sent her left hand out wide to the left and lifted her right hand up above her head, giving an apparent opening.
And the goblin dove into that hole, thinking to sink its knife into her chest.
Up snapped Brynn's right foot, smacking the goblin's lead arm out wide. She caught the back of the goblin's wrist in her left hand and yanked it down, twisting to lock the creature's elbow, its palm and Brynn's facing up-ward. The ranger turned right inside the hold then, bringing her left arm over and around, then down under the caught arm, turned her back right before the goblin's torso as she went. Brynn ignored the expected punch from the goblin's free hand, keeping her momentum, locking her forearm under that trapped elbow, and yanking up, while throwing her weight far-ther out over that trapped hand and tugging down hard.
The goblin yelped in pain, though it still managed to throw a second punch into Brynn's back.
It couldn't maintain its hold on the dagger, though, as Brynn's fingers worked the hand of the pained arm to force it free. As it fell, Brynn pulled straight out with her left hand, keeping the goblin off-balance, and released the arm from her right arm's hold, stepping forward and snapping out her right hand to catch the dagger before it ever hit the ground. She flipped it over in a sudden reversal and, even as the goblin slugged her again, thrust out straight and hard behind her, planting the dagger deep into the goblin's chest.
The goblin punched her yet again, but there was no strength in the blow. Brynn pumped her arm once and again, tearing up the goblin's chest and guts, then turned hard and shoved the dying creature to the ground.
The goblin she had smacked in the face was up by then, but not charg-ing.The creature had seen enough of this fighter, apparently, and started to run off into the forest.
Hardly even thinking of the movement, Brynn launched the dagger, hit-ting it in the back of the leg. The goblin howled and went down hard, then kicked and thrashed, trying to tug the dagger out, but in too much pain even to grasp it.
Now Brynn was thinking again, and watching every terrible movement. As much in horror as in pragmatism, she picked up her staff, rushed over, and smashed the goblin in the head.
It just yelled and thrashed even more.
Brynn hit it again, and again, just wanting this nightmare to be over, just wanting the wretched thing to lie still.
A long while later, after what seemed like many, many minutes to Brynn, the goblin finally stopped its thrashing and its whining.
Brynn slumped to her knees. There were still goblins about, some hurt, others perhaps not so, but she couldn't think of that right at that moment, couldn't think of anything except for the dead creatures about her, the gob-lins she had killed, and brutally so. She fought against the tears and against the urge to throw up, trying hard to steady her breathing and her sensibili-ties. She reminded herself that danger was all about her, told herself that a goblin might be creeping up even then, ready to drive a spear into her back.
Brynn glanced over her shoulder at the unsettling thought, but all was quiet behind her. Even in the encampment, nothing seemed to be stirring, though she knew she had not killed all of the creatures back there in her ini-tial charge. She noted Diredusk off to the side, standing calmly, tugging at some low brush, then lifting his head with a great haul of small branches and leaves in his munching mouth.
Brynn took up her bow and strung it, then pulled the dagger out of the dead goblin's leg and set it into her belt. Fitting an arrow, she crept along a circuitous route, gradually working her way back in sight of the camp.
None of the goblins was moving. Belli'mar Juraviel walked about them, kicking at them, and when any showed signs of life, the elf bent down and slashed open its throat.
Brynn hated him at that moment. Profoundly. Why had he done this to her? Why had he taken her off the straight trail to the south and toward To-gai, only to slaughter these creatures?
It took the young ranger a few moments to realize how tightly she was gripping her bowstring about the set arrow, or the fact that she had inad-vertently begun to pull back, just a bit, on the bow. She eased it to rest, then grabbed it up in one hand, clenching the bow at midshaft and wrapping one finger about the arrow to hold it steady. Then she determinedly, angrily, strode back into the encampment. Juraviel looked up at her. ?A bit sloppy," he said. ?Your first charge through was beautifully executed, efficient and to the point. But you spent far too long with the pair in the brush. Three of these were not dead, and two could have soon enough gathered their witsand strength enough to come in at you. What would you have done if I had not been here to clean up?"
His voice trailed away at the end, his expression showing Brynn that she was correctly conveying her outrage with her steely look.
"Is there a problem?" the elf asked, his condescending tone alone telling Brynn that he knew well enough what was bothering her.
"Was there a purpose?"
"Need I give you another lecture about the wretchedness of goblins? How many examples should I provide you to settle your guilt, young ranger? Should I tell you about the forests they have burned to the ground, about the human settlements they have raided, slaughtering even the children, and eating more than a few?
Should I recount for you again the great De-mon War and point out the hundreds of instances of misery the goblins per-petrated upon the land and upon the humans in that dark time? ?
"Raided human settlements," Brynn echoed, looking about sarcastically.
"Yes, and took pleasure in every kill."
"As did you!" Brynn knew that she was moving over the line even as the words left her mouth.
"Not so," Juraviel answered quietly and calmly, seeming to take no of-fense. ?I, we, did as we had to do. With expediency and efficiency. Without true malice, and with actions spawned from pragmatism. Did I enjoy the killing? Not really. But I take heart in knowing that our actions here just made the entire world a bit brighter and a bit safer."
"And seasoned your ranger a bit more." There was no mistaking the heavy sarcasm and anger in her tone.
"And that, yes," the elf answered, unperturbed.
Brynn quivered on the verge of an explosion. ?And do rangers often gain their first battle experience against goblins?" she asked. ?Is that where they draw first blood, where they first can enjoy the sweet smell of death?"
"Goblins or rabid animals, likely," the elf was quick to respond, and still he seemed completely unshaken.
"Though it could be argued that they are much one and the same."
His tone as much as his words only brought even more tension into poor Brynn, and she wanted to scream out in protest at that moment more than she ever had since the murder of her parents.
"As worthy an enemy as can be found, if not so worthy as an opponent," Juraviel went on.
Brynn turned away and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, then opened them and stared off into the forest. She felt Juraviel's gentle hand upon the small of her back.
"How steep are the mountains you must climb if you cannot scale this tiny hillock?"
"I did not leave Andur'Blough Inninness to become a murderess," Brynn answered through her gritted teeth.
"You left Andur'Blough Inninness to begin a war," Juraviel reminded, with even more intensity. ?Do you think that your revolution will be bloodless?"
"That is different."
"Because the Chezru are deserving?"
Brvnn, her eyes narrowed, turned to face him directly, and said with an air of confidence, ?Yes."
"And only the deserving Chezru will die?"
"Many of my people will die, but they will do so willingly, if their sacrifice helps to free To-gai!"
"And many innocents will die," the elf pointed out. ?Children too young to understand what is happening. The infirm. Women on both sides will be raped and slaughtered."
Brynn worked hard to hold firm her gaze, but she did wince.
"War is not fought along clear lines, Brynn. The Yatols at war will call upon the fierce Chezhou-Lei warriors, and they, by reputation, will not suf-fer any of the enemy race to live. And will your own people be more gener-ous? How many of the To-gai-ru have suffered horrible tragedies under the press of the Yatols? When you press into Behren, as surely you must if you are to force the people of the sand kingdom truly to allow you your freedom, you will overtake Behrenese villages, full of people who know nothing of To-gai and the plight of the To-gai-ru. But will not some of your own warriors take revenge on those innocents for the wrongs of the Yatol occupation?"
Brynn didn't relent in her stoic gaze. She could not, at that moment of dark epiphany. But she heard well Belli'mar Juraviel's every word, and knew in her heart, if her head would not yet admit it, that he was correct.
I cannot begin to explain the tremendous shift that has come to Caer'alfar since the demon Bestesbulzibar left its stain, its growing rot, upon our fair valley. For centuries, we of the People have lived in relative seclusion, peaceful and content. Only the rangers knew of us, truly, and a select few of Honce-the-Bear's ruling families. Our concern with the ways of the wider world ended with the potential impact any happenings might have upon us. Thus the rangers, while protectors of the human settlements on the outskirts of human civilization, were also our link to that world, our eyes in the field.
That was enough.
Bestesbulzibar has apparently changed all of that. Curing the time of the DemonWar, I was.
assaulted by that demon, while transporting some poor human refugees away from the goblin andpowrie hordes. I would have perished in that battle - perhaps I should have! - except that Lady GaSStefoncTamved and took up my battle. She, too, would have perished, but she used her magical emerald to take us back to the place of her greatest power, back to Andur'Blough Inninness, just outside of Caer'alfar. There, Dasslerond drove the demon away, but not before Bestesbulzibar had left its indelible stain upon our fair land, a mark enduring, and growing.
I believe that if Dasslerond had understood the cost, she never would have brought us all back to the valley, that she and I would have died on the field that day.
For then we would be gone, but Andur'Blough Inninness would live on.
That rotting stain has done more than change the complexion of our fair valley, it has changed the perspective of Lady Dasslerond. The Touel'alfar have existed by remaining on the outskirts, passive observers in a world too frenzied for our tastes. We do not involve ourselves in the affairs of humans - how many times have I been chided by Lady Dasslerond and my peers for my friendship with Elbryan andjilseponie?
Now, though, Lady Dasslerond has assumed a more active role outside of Andur'Blough Inninness. She sends Brynn south to free To-gai from the Behrenese, mostly because the nomads of To-gai will prove much more accommodating and friendly toward our people should the demon stain force us out of our home. In that event, we would go south, through the Belt-and-Buckle and across To-gai, to another of our ancient homelands, Caer'Towellan, where perhaps our brethren still reside.
Still, despite the potential gains should that event occur, I am surprised that Dasslerond has sent Brynn Dharielle to begin a war, human against human. If we were forced to journey southward, we could do so, I am certain, whether the To-gai-ru or the Yatol Chezru Chieftain ruled the steppes. But Lady Dasslerond insisted upon this, as much so as on anything I have ever witnessed. She is truly fearful of the demon stain.
And so she undertakes her second unusual stance, and this one frightens me even more than the journey she has determined for Brynn. She took }ilseponie's child, unbeknownst to the mother. She took the child ofElbryan and Jilseponie, right from its mother's womb! True, her action saved the lives of both Jilseponie andAydrian that dark night on the field outside ofPalmaris, for had not Dasslerond intervened to drive away the demon-possessed Markwart, both humans would surely have perished.
Still, to raise the child as her, as our, own...
And the manner of that upbringing scares me even more - perhaps as much as the reason for the upbringing. Lady Dasslerond has plans for Brynn, but they pale compared to her goals for young Aydrian. He will be the one to deliver Andur'Blough Inninness from the demon stain, at the sacrifice of his own blood and his own life. He will become the epitome of what it is to be a ranger, and then, when that is achieved, he will become Dasslerond's sacrifice to the earth, that the demon stain be lifted.
She has foreseen this, my Lady has told me, in no uncertain terms. She knows the potential of her plan. All that she must do is bring Aydrian to the required level of power and understanding.
But there's the rub, I fear. For Aydrian Wyndon, raised without the gentle touch of his mother or the love of his father, raised in near seclusion with harsh treatment and high standards from the moment he was old enough to understand them, will not he complete as a man, let alone as a ranger. There was a side to Elbryan, the Nightbird, beyond his abilities with the sword and his understanding of nature. The greatest gift ofNightbird, the greatest strength of the man Elbryan, was compassion, was a willingness to sacrifice every thing for the greater good. Nightbird's gift to the world was his death, when he threw his wounded form fully into Jilseponie's final battle with the demon-possessed Markwart, knowing full well that he could not survive that conflict, that, in aiding Jilseponie, he would be giving his very life.
He did that. He didn't hesitate, because Nightbird was possessed of so much more than we of the Touel'alfar ever gave to him - because Elbryan the Nigh third was a man of true character and true community.
Will the child raised alone and unloved he as much?
This is my fear.
Chapter 1 First Blood
They were out of the mountains now, and the going was smooth and easy. Diredusk most of all seemed to revel in the softer and flatter ground, the powerful pinto pony striding long and eagerly under Brynn's expert handling. True to his noble To-gai heritage, the pony could trot for many miles before needing a break, and even then, he was quickly ready to be back on the trail, straining against Brynn's hold to travel faster and faster.
For Brynn, riding along quiet forest trails on a late-spring or early-summer day was about as wonderful as things could get, and would have been perfect - except that with every passing mile the young ranger's eyes turned back less and looked forward ever more eagerly. She couldn't enjoy the ride as much when the destination was all-important.
Belli'mar Juraviel rode with the woman at times, Diredusk hardly feeling the extra weight of the diminutive creature. The elf typically sat in front of Brynn, turned to face the woman and lying back along the pony's powerful neck. He didn't speak to Brynn much along the trails, though, for he could see that the woman was falling deeper and deeper into thought about the destination awaiting them. That's what Juraviel wanted from the young woman; that's what the Touel'alfar demanded of the ranger. The goal was all-important, because Lady Dasslerond had said it was, and nothing else should clutter Brynn Dharielle's mind - not the fragrance of the summer forest awakening fully, not the sounds of the songbirds, not even the sparkle of the morning sun on the dewy grasses and leaves.
And so they rode quietly, and sometimes Juraviel leaped from Diredusk's back and fluttered up to the branches of the trees, moving to higher vantage points to scout the road ahead.
Their evenings, too, were for the most part quiet, sitting about a fire, enjoying their evening meal. In this setting, with little stimulation about them, Brynn would sometimes tell Juraviel stories of her homeland, of her parents and their small nomadic tribe, Kayleen Kek. On one such night, with Andur'Blough Inninness a hundred miles behind them, the woman became especially nostalgic.
"We always went to the higher ground in the summer," she told her com-panion. ?Up the sides of the great mountains in the range you call the Belt-and-Buckle, but that we called Uleshon Twak, the Dragon Spines.
We'd camp so high sometimes that it was hard simply to draw in sufficient air. You'd always feel as if you couldn't catch your breath. Every step seemed to take minutes to execute, and a tent in sight might take you an hour to walk to. I remember that at times blood would run from my nose, for no reason. My mother would fret over me, but my father would just say that the high-sickness could do that and it was nothing to bother about."
Juraviel watched her as she continued her tale, her head tilted back so that her eyes were staring up at the night canopy. It wasn't starry that night, with thickening clouds drifting in from the west. The full moon, Sheila, shone behind those clouds, sometimes seeming a pale full light, other times disappearing completely behind a dark and thick blanket.
Brynn wasn't seeing it, any of it, Juraviel knew. She was looking across the years as much as across the distance. She was seeing the crisp night sky from a camp of deerskin tents fiested among great boulders on the high slopes of the Belt-and-Buckle( She was pearing her mother's laugh, perhaps, and her father's stern but loving comrrtands. She was hearing the nickers of the nearby To-gai ponies, so loyal-that they didn't need to be tethered, as they protested the sparse grasses at the great elevation.
That was good, Juraviel knew. Let per recall the feeling of the old days, of her life before Andur'Blough Inninness. Let her remember clearly how much she had lost, how much To-gai had lost, so that her calls to her people to reclaim their heritage would be even more full of passion and conviction.
"Do they still go to the high passes?" Juraviel prompted.
Brynn's expression changed as she lowered her gaze to regard the elf, as if one of the clouds from the sky had dropped down to cross over her fair features. ?I know not," she admitted somberly. ?When I was taken by your people, the Chezru were trying to establish permanent villages."
"The To-gai-ru must walk the land with the creatures," said Juraviel. ?That is their way."
"More than our way. It is our spirit, our path to..." She paused - unsure, it seemed.
"Your path to what?" the elf asked. ?To heaven?"
Brynn looked at him curiously, and then nodded. ?To our heaven," she explained. ?There on the high plateaus.
There in the autumn valleys, full of the golden flowers that bloom to herald the cold winds. There by the sum-mer streams, swollen with melt. There, following the deer."
"The Chezru do not see the value of such a life," Juraviel noted. ?They are not a wandering people."
"Because their deserts are not suited to such a lifestyle," said Brynn. ?They have their many oases, and their great cities, but to wander through the sea-sons would not show them much beauty beyond those denned enclaves. Behren is not like To-gai, not a land of differing beauties in differing seasons. Thus they do not understand us and thus they try to change us."
"Perhaps they believe that in giving villages to the To-gai-ru, they will be showing the To-gai-ru the path to a better life."
"No," Brynn was answering before the elf even finished the statement, and Juraviel knew that he would elicit strong disagreement here - indeed, that was his goal. ?They want us in villages, even cities, that they might bet-ter control us. In villages, they can watch the clans, but out on the plains, we would be free to practice the old ways and to speak ill of our conquerors."
"But the gains," the elf said dramatically. ?The stability of existence."
"The trap of possession!" Brynn was quick to argue. ?Cities are prisons and nothing more. When they run correctly, they trap you, they make you dependent on the comforts they provide. But they take from you - oh, they take so much!"
"What do they take?" There was an unintended urgency to Juraviel's tone. He could tell that he was getting to Brynn, driving her on, which was precisely his duty.
"They take away the summer plateaus, the mountain wind, and the smell.... oh, the scents of the high fields in the summer! They take away the swollen rivers, full of leaping fish. They take away the rides, the ponies charging across the open steppe. Oh, you should hear that sound, Belli'mar! The thunder of the To-gai-ru charge!"
She was breathing hard as she finished, her brown eyes sparkling with energy, as if she were witnessing that charge - as if she was leading that charge. She finally came out of her trance a bit and looked to the elf.
"I will witness it," came Belli'mar Juraviel's soft and assuring answer. ?I will."
Their road remained fairly straight south over the next few days, and Brynn was under the impression that they had but a single goal here: to get to To-gai and begin the process of liberation.
That's what Juraviel and the others had told her, but the elf knew that he and Brynn had other things to attend to before beginning the long process of placing Brynn at the front of a revolution. Brynn Dharielle had been trained in the rigorous manner that had produced rangers from Andur'Blough In-ninness for centuries, but, as fine as that training might be, Juraviel knew that it had its limitations. Even the most difficult trials - for Brynn, one had involved shooting targets from the saddle and at a gallop - were with-out the greatest of consequences, and hence, without the true understand-ing of the disaster that could be failure. For failing a test in Andur'Blough Inninness could mean humiliation and weeks of intense corrective training, but failing a test out here would likely mean death. Brynn had to learn that, had truly to appreciate all that she had to lose.
And so, on that morning when Belli'mar Juraviel took note of some curi-ous tracks crossing the soft ground in front of them - tracks so subtle that Brynn didn't even notice them from horseback - he allowed the woman to move obliviously past the spot, then studied the trail more closely. Juraviel knew the tracks, had seen them many, many times during the days of the Demon War, when he had traveled beside Nightbird and Jilseponie battling Bestesbulzibar's minions. The tracks were like those of a human, a young human, perhaps. But those made by shod feet revealed a poorly crafted boot, and those made by bare feet showed a telltale flatness in the arch and a wide expanse at the toes narrowing almost to a point at the heels.
Goblins. Moving east and in no apparent hurry.
Juraviel looked up and studied the area, even going so far as to sniff the breeze, but then he smiled at himself and shook his head. The tracks were probably a day old, he knew. These goblins were likely long gone.
But he knew the direction.
To Brynn's surprise, JurayieLannounced that they had to turn to the east for a bit. She didn't argue/of cobrse, for he was her guide, and so with a shrug, she brought Dirediisk in line behind the moving elf. When that day ended, the pair had put twenty miles behind them, but in truth, they were no closer to the steppes of Tpai than they had been the previous day, something that Brynn surely/took note of.
"Are we to travel around the world, then?" she asked sarcastically after they had eaten their dinner of vegetable stew. ?Perhaps that way, we can sneak up on the Chezru from behind."
"The straight line is always the shortest distance, 'tis true," the elf replied. ?But it is not always the swiftest."
"What does that mean? What have you seen up ahead?" Brynn got up and looked to the south. ?Monsters?"
"There is no barrier looming to the south, but this road is better, I believe."
Brynn stared hard at the cryptic elf for some time, but Juraviel went back to his eating and didn't return the look. He wanted to keep the mystery, wanted to have Brynn off-balance and wondering. He didn't want her to know what was coming, and likely coming the very next day.
Later on, when Brynn was asleep, Juraviel hopped, flew, and climbed up the tallest tree he could find and peered through the dark night to the east.
There was the campfire, as he had expected. It was a long way off, to be sure.
But the goblins, he believed, weren't in any hurry.
Brynn stared through the tangle of trees, sorting out the distinct and con-fusing lines until she was fully focused on the ugly little creatures beyond.
They were diminutive - not as much so as the Touel'alfar, but smaller than Brynn. Their skin color ranged from gray to sickly yellow to putrid green, and hair grew in splotches about their heads, backs, and shoulders.
Elon-gated teeth, misshapen noses, and sloping foreheads only added to the gen-erally wretched mix. Brynn wasn't close enough to smell the creatures, but she could well imagine that such an experience wouldn't be pleasant.
She turned and looked up to Juraviel, who was sitting comfortably on a branch. ?Goblins?" she asked, for though she had heard of the creatures during her stay with the elves, she had never actually seen one.
"The vermin are thick about these stretches," Juraviel answered, ?out-side the borders of the human kingdoms."
Brynn thought things over carefully, particularly their unexpected change in course of the previous day. ?You knew they were here," she reasoned. ?You brought me here to see them. But why?"
Juraviel spent a long moment looking through the trees to the goblin group. Several of them were visible, and he suspected that more were about, probably out destroying something, a tree or an animal, just for the fun of it. ?You do not know that I brought you here to see them," he said.
Brynn chuckled at him. ?But why?" she asked again.
Juraviel shrugged. ?Perhaps it is merely a fortunate coincidence."
"Fortunate?"
"It is good that you should view these creatures," the elf explained. ?A new experience to widen your understanding of a world much larger than you can imagine."
Brynn's expression showed that she could accept that, but Juraviel added, ?Or perhaps I feel it is my - our - duty to better the world wherever we may."
Brynn looked at him curiously.
"They are goblins, after all."
The woman's expression didn't change. ?Goblins who seem not to be bothering anybody or anything."
"Perhaps that is because there is no one or nothing about for them to bother at this moment," Juraviel replied.
"Am I understanding your intent correctly?" the young ranger asked, turning back to survey the distant, undeniably peaceful scene of the small goblin camp. ?Do you want us to attack this group?"
'Straight out? No," Juraviel answered. ?Of course not - there are too many goblins about for that to be wise.
No, we must be more stealthy and cunning in our methods."
When Brynn looked back to him, she wore an expression that combined curiosity, confusion, and outrage.
"We could go around them and leave them in peace."
'And fear forever after for the mischief they would cause."
Brynn was shaking her head before Juraviel ever finished, but the elf pressed on dramatically. ?For the families who would soon enough grieve for loved ones slain by the evil creatures. For the forests destroyed and dese-crated, the animals senselessly slaughtered - not for food or clothing, but just for entertainment."
"And if we murder this band, then we are no better than the goblins, by any measure," Brynn declared, and she tilted her head back, her expression proud and idealistic. ?Is it not our compassion that elevates us? Is it not our willingness to find peace and not battle, that makes us better than creatures such as this?"
"Would you be so generous if those were Yatol priests about that distant encampment?" the elf slyly asked.
"That is different."
"Indeed," came the obviously sarcastic reply.
"The Yatol priests chose their course - one that invites revenge from To-gai," Brynn reasoned. ?The goblins did not choose their heritage."
"Thus you reason that every single Yatol priest took part in the atrocities perpetrated upon your people? Or are they all guilty for the sins of the few?"
"Every Yatol priest, every Chezru, follows a creed that leads to such con-quest," Brynn argued. ?Thus every Yatol priest is an accomplice to the atroc-ities committed by those followi0|f utieif-?inrnf>n creed!"
"The goblins have visited more grief upon the world than ever did the Yatol priests."
"Being a part of that group, gobliris, is not a conscious choice, but merely a consequence of parentage.
Surely you of the Touel'alfar, who are so wise, can see the difference."
Belli'mar Juraviel smiled widely at the compassionate young ranger's rea-soning, though he knew, from his perspective garnered through centuries of existence, that she was simply wrong. ?Goblins are not akin to the other thinking and reasoning races," he explained. ?Perhaps their heritage is not their choice, but their actions are universally predictable and deplorable. Never have I seen, never have I heard of a single goblin who goes against the creed that is their culture and heritage. Not once in the annals of history has a goblin been known to step forward and deny the atrocities of its wretched kin. No, my innocent young charge, I'll not suffer a goblin to live, and neither will you."
Brynn winced at the direct edict, one that obviously did not sit well on her slender shoulders.
"I brought you here because there before us is a stain upon the land, a blight and a danger, and there before us is our duty, clear and obvious."
Brynn glanced back as she heard the commanding, undebatable tone.
"We will search the forest about the encampment first," Juraviel went on. ?Thinning the herd as much as possible before going to an open battle."
"Striking with stealth and from behind?" Brynn asked with clear sarcas.
But her accusation, for that is what was obviously intended, was lost on uraviel, who replied simply and with ultimate coldness, ?Whatever works."
Less than an hour later, Brynn found herself crawling through the brush south of the goblin camp, for she and Juraviel had worked themselves around the location. The ranger moved with all the stealth the TouePalfar had taught her, easing each part of her - elbow, knee, foot, and hand - down slowly, gradually shifting her weight and feeling keenly the turf be-low, taking care to crunch no old leaves and snap no dried twigs.
A dozen feet before her, a pair of goblins labored noisily, one of them breaking small sticks from the trees and tossing them back to its ugly com-panion, who was hard at work with a small stick and bow, trying to start a fire. Brynn and Juraviel had overheard a pair of the creatures a short way back, and Juraviel understood enough of the guttural language to relay to Brynn that the goblins were planning to set great fires to flush out easy kills.
Brynn paused as she considered that conversation, for she had argued against JuraviePs clear implication that the goblin plans proved his point about the creatures' temperament. Humans hunted, after all - the To-gai were particularly adept at it. Perhaps this was only a difference in method. Lying there, Brynn understood how weak her argument had been. The amount of kindling that was being piled and the sheer joy on the face of the goblin who intended to set the blaze told her that this was about much more than a simple hunt for food.
Still...
Juraviel had given Brynn his sword for this unpleasant business, though in her hands it was no more than a large and slender dagger. That would work better than her staff or bow for now, though, for this had to be done quickly and quietly. Especially quietly.
She continued forward another couple of feet, then a bit more. She could hear the creatures clearly, could smell them. With mud streaked about her face, and leaves and twigs strapped to her clothing, Brynn understood logi-cally that she was somewhat camouflaged, but still she could hardly believe that the goblins hadn't taken note of her yet!
The one bent over trying to start the fire yelped suddenly and started to stand. Its companion, closer to Brynn, looked to regard it, smiling stupidly, apparently thinking that the fire was starting to catch.
But there were only wisps of smoke, then the goblin, halfway upright, yelped again, and then again, and its companion's expression shifted to curiosity.
And then Brynn was behind it, her hand coming around to clamp over its mouth, her dagger, Juraviel's silverel sword, driving deep into the creature's back, just to the side of the backbone, sinking deep to reach for the goblin's heart. Brynn felt that keenly - so very keenly! She felt the flesh tearing, the varying pressures as the dagger slid through, and then felt an almost electri-cal shock, as if she had touched the very essence of the creature's life force, the point of the weapon acting as a channel to let that life force flow freely from the goblin's body.
The other goblin yelped again and fell over. Then it yelped - or tried to - yet again, and clutched at its throat.
The goblin in her arms went limp and she eased it to the ground, think-ing that she should go and finish the other. It was a forced thought, though, for all that Brynn wanted to do at that horrible moment was fall to her knees and scream out in protest. She growled those feelings away and steadied herself for the necessary task at hand, pulling free the bloodied sword and considering her next kill. Belli'mar Juraviel was at the other gob-lin before her, though, standing over the creature, his small bow drawn back fully.
He put another arrow into the squirming^gdblin, then another. And then a third, and the creature seemed as if it would not die!
The next arrow drove through the side of its head. It gave a sudden, vi-cious spasm, and the light went out of the goblin's eyes.
It was all Brynn could manage to keepjteafs flowing from her eyes, to keep from crying out in horror and revulsion, and pain.
So much pain.
Was this why she had trained as a ranger? Or was ?ranger" even the proper word? Was it, perhaps, merely a cover for the true intention of her training, the true title she should drape across her shoulders: assassin?
"Come, and quickly," Juraviel said to her, drawing her back from her in-ner conflict. Hardly thinking, she followed the elf along the circuitous route, until they happened upon another goblin, out collecting kindling.
It was dead before it even knew they were there.
The perimeter was secured then, and so the pair focused their attention on the encampment itself, where a band of more than a half dozen of the creatures milled about and sat around the smoldering embers of the previ-ous night's fire. They had a large, rusty pot sitting atop it, and every once in a while, one went over to it and ladled out some foul-looking stew.
"We could wait to see if others wander out alone," Juraviel said to her. ?Take them down one or two at a time."
Brynn winced visibly at the thought, wanting all of this to be over as quickly as possible.
"The time for stealth is ended," she said determinedly, and started to rise, intending to charge straight into the band.
Juraviel caught her by the arm and held her fast. ?What is a To-gai-ru war-rior's greatest weapon?" he asked.
"Even beyond courage and the bow?"
Brynn nodded and handed him his small sword, then turned about, understanding. A few minutes later, the goblins in the encampment stood and looked cu-riously to the north, to the crashing and thumping echoing out of the forest.
grynn Dharielle, astride Diredusk, came through the last line of brush with bow drawn. She took the goblin farthest to the right first, dropping it ?with hardly a squeak, then got her second arrow away, knocking a goblin away from the cooking pot, a bowlful of stew flying over it as it toppled backward.
A quick and fluid movement had the bow unstrung, and Brynn tucked it under her right arm like a lance as she guided Diredusk to a course right past a third, stunned creature. The goblin's face exploded in a shower of blood, the sturdy darkfern bow smashing through. Brynn cut Diredusk hard to the left, the pony trampling the next goblin in line, then running down yet another as it tried to flee. Now Brynn swung the staff like a club, whistling it past another goblin's face, a near miss that had the creature div-ing back to the ground.
By then, though, her momentum had played out. She reached the far end of the encampment, leaving three goblins standing, no longer surprised, and collecting their weapons. Where was Juraviel? Why hadn't she heard the high-pitched twang of his small bow or the yelps of stuck goblins?
Brynn tugged hard on the reins, bringing her pony to a skidding stop and quick turn. She flanked around to the left, going to a half seat and bending low over Diredusk's neck as the horse easily leaped a pair of logs set out as benches.
Brynn yanked him hard to the left as he landed, lining up a second run at the center of the camp. The three goblins, though, had wisely retreated to the fringes of the forest, using brush and trees for cover, and the only target she found was the goblin she had narrowly missed on her first pass, the creature stumbling as it tried to rise. Her aim was better this time, the swinging bow smacking it across the back of the head as she thundered past, launching the creature facefirst. It crashed against the cooking pot, knocking it over, then it tumbled down right onto the hot embers. How that goblin howled and thrashed! Its scraggly hair ignited, its skin burned and curled!
With movements so fast and so fluid that they defied the goblins' com-prehension, Brynn bent and strung her bow as she lifted her leg over the horse's back, then set an arrow as she dropped from Diredusk into a charge.
She pegged the closest goblin right between the eyes, dropped into a roll to avoid a thrown spear from a second, set an arrow as she rolled, and came up firing.
Then there was one.
A flick of Brynn's wrist had the bow unstrung as she charged.
The goblin, obviously unsure, obviously terrified, started to run. Then it changed its mind and turned, crude spear presented before it. It thrust out as Brynn came in, but the skilled ranger slapped the awkward attack aside and started forward for what looked like a quick victory.
Started forward, but stopped abpaptry\as the brush to the side parted and a second goblin burst through,/ chargingxat the ranger with a small and rusty dagger.
Brynn turned sidelong and started to bring herbow-staff to bear, but the first goblin came back in hard. The ranger adeptly changed the momentum of her weapon, grabbing it up high with her left hand, reversing the grip, then thrusting the staff right back to the side in an underhand movement, guiding it with her right hand, holding on with her left. The charging spear-wielder had its weapon back, trying to gain momentum for its thrust at that moment, and so there was nothing in place to block Brynn s stab before the staff connected with the goblin's face.
Brynn let her weapon drop then, confident that the goblin was out of the fight for a while at least. She wove her hands furiously before her to set a defense against the goblin with the knife. Her balanced and precise move-ments slowed the goblin just a bit, as it tried to find some hole in the sud-den defense, and that was all Brynn needed. She sent her left hand out wide to the left and lifted her right hand up above her head, giving an apparent opening.
And the goblin dove into that hole, thinking to sink its knife into her chest.
Up snapped Brynn's right foot, smacking the goblin's lead arm out wide. She caught the back of the goblin's wrist in her left hand and yanked it down, twisting to lock the creature's elbow, its palm and Brynn's facing up-ward. The ranger turned right inside the hold then, bringing her left arm over and around, then down under the caught arm, turned her back right before the goblin's torso as she went. Brynn ignored the expected punch from the goblin's free hand, keeping her momentum, locking her forearm under that trapped elbow, and yanking up, while throwing her weight far-ther out over that trapped hand and tugging down hard.
The goblin yelped in pain, though it still managed to throw a second punch into Brynn's back.
It couldn't maintain its hold on the dagger, though, as Brynn's fingers worked the hand of the pained arm to force it free. As it fell, Brynn pulled straight out with her left hand, keeping the goblin off-balance, and released the arm from her right arm's hold, stepping forward and snapping out her right hand to catch the dagger before it ever hit the ground. She flipped it over in a sudden reversal and, even as the goblin slugged her again, thrust out straight and hard behind her, planting the dagger deep into the goblin's chest.
The goblin punched her yet again, but there was no strength in the blow. Brynn pumped her arm once and again, tearing up the goblin's chest and guts, then turned hard and shoved the dying creature to the ground.
The goblin she had smacked in the face was up by then, but not charg-ing.The creature had seen enough of this fighter, apparently, and started to run off into the forest.
Hardly even thinking of the movement, Brynn launched the dagger, hit-ting it in the back of the leg. The goblin howled and went down hard, then kicked and thrashed, trying to tug the dagger out, but in too much pain even to grasp it.
Now Brynn was thinking again, and watching every terrible movement. As much in horror as in pragmatism, she picked up her staff, rushed over, and smashed the goblin in the head.
It just yelled and thrashed even more.
Brynn hit it again, and again, just wanting this nightmare to be over, just wanting the wretched thing to lie still.
A long while later, after what seemed like many, many minutes to Brynn, the goblin finally stopped its thrashing and its whining.
Brynn slumped to her knees. There were still goblins about, some hurt, others perhaps not so, but she couldn't think of that right at that moment, couldn't think of anything except for the dead creatures about her, the gob-lins she had killed, and brutally so. She fought against the tears and against the urge to throw up, trying hard to steady her breathing and her sensibili-ties. She reminded herself that danger was all about her, told herself that a goblin might be creeping up even then, ready to drive a spear into her back.
Brynn glanced over her shoulder at the unsettling thought, but all was quiet behind her. Even in the encampment, nothing seemed to be stirring, though she knew she had not killed all of the creatures back there in her ini-tial charge. She noted Diredusk off to the side, standing calmly, tugging at some low brush, then lifting his head with a great haul of small branches and leaves in his munching mouth.
Brynn took up her bow and strung it, then pulled the dagger out of the dead goblin's leg and set it into her belt. Fitting an arrow, she crept along a circuitous route, gradually working her way back in sight of the camp.
None of the goblins was moving. Belli'mar Juraviel walked about them, kicking at them, and when any showed signs of life, the elf bent down and slashed open its throat.
Brynn hated him at that moment. Profoundly. Why had he done this to her? Why had he taken her off the straight trail to the south and toward To-gai, only to slaughter these creatures?
It took the young ranger a few moments to realize how tightly she was gripping her bowstring about the set arrow, or the fact that she had inad-vertently begun to pull back, just a bit, on the bow. She eased it to rest, then grabbed it up in one hand, clenching the bow at midshaft and wrapping one finger about the arrow to hold it steady. Then she determinedly, angrily, strode back into the encampment. Juraviel looked up at her. ?A bit sloppy," he said. ?Your first charge through was beautifully executed, efficient and to the point. But you spent far too long with the pair in the brush. Three of these were not dead, and two could have soon enough gathered their witsand strength enough to come in at you. What would you have done if I had not been here to clean up?"
His voice trailed away at the end, his expression showing Brynn that she was correctly conveying her outrage with her steely look.
"Is there a problem?" the elf asked, his condescending tone alone telling Brynn that he knew well enough what was bothering her.
"Was there a purpose?"
"Need I give you another lecture about the wretchedness of goblins? How many examples should I provide you to settle your guilt, young ranger? Should I tell you about the forests they have burned to the ground, about the human settlements they have raided, slaughtering even the children, and eating more than a few?
Should I recount for you again the great De-mon War and point out the hundreds of instances of misery the goblins per-petrated upon the land and upon the humans in that dark time? ?
"Raided human settlements," Brynn echoed, looking about sarcastically.
"Yes, and took pleasure in every kill."
"As did you!" Brynn knew that she was moving over the line even as the words left her mouth.
"Not so," Juraviel answered quietly and calmly, seeming to take no of-fense. ?I, we, did as we had to do. With expediency and efficiency. Without true malice, and with actions spawned from pragmatism. Did I enjoy the killing? Not really. But I take heart in knowing that our actions here just made the entire world a bit brighter and a bit safer."
"And seasoned your ranger a bit more." There was no mistaking the heavy sarcasm and anger in her tone.
"And that, yes," the elf answered, unperturbed.
Brynn quivered on the verge of an explosion. ?And do rangers often gain their first battle experience against goblins?" she asked. ?Is that where they draw first blood, where they first can enjoy the sweet smell of death?"
"Goblins or rabid animals, likely," the elf was quick to respond, and still he seemed completely unshaken.
"Though it could be argued that they are much one and the same."
His tone as much as his words only brought even more tension into poor Brynn, and she wanted to scream out in protest at that moment more than she ever had since the murder of her parents.
"As worthy an enemy as can be found, if not so worthy as an opponent," Juraviel went on.
Brynn turned away and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, then opened them and stared off into the forest. She felt Juraviel's gentle hand upon the small of her back.
"How steep are the mountains you must climb if you cannot scale this tiny hillock?"
"I did not leave Andur'Blough Inninness to become a murderess," Brynn answered through her gritted teeth.
"You left Andur'Blough Inninness to begin a war," Juraviel reminded, with even more intensity. ?Do you think that your revolution will be bloodless?"
"That is different."
"Because the Chezru are deserving?"
Brvnn, her eyes narrowed, turned to face him directly, and said with an air of confidence, ?Yes."
"And only the deserving Chezru will die?"
"Many of my people will die, but they will do so willingly, if their sacrifice helps to free To-gai!"
"And many innocents will die," the elf pointed out. ?Children too young to understand what is happening. The infirm. Women on both sides will be raped and slaughtered."
Brynn worked hard to hold firm her gaze, but she did wince.
"War is not fought along clear lines, Brynn. The Yatols at war will call upon the fierce Chezhou-Lei warriors, and they, by reputation, will not suf-fer any of the enemy race to live. And will your own people be more gener-ous? How many of the To-gai-ru have suffered horrible tragedies under the press of the Yatols? When you press into Behren, as surely you must if you are to force the people of the sand kingdom truly to allow you your freedom, you will overtake Behrenese villages, full of people who know nothing of To-gai and the plight of the To-gai-ru. But will not some of your own warriors take revenge on those innocents for the wrongs of the Yatol occupation?"
Brynn didn't relent in her stoic gaze. She could not, at that moment of dark epiphany. But she heard well Belli'mar Juraviel's every word, and knew in her heart, if her head would not yet admit it, that he was correct.
