The Trees And The Night (Book 3) Read online

  THE SERAPHINIUM

  BOOK III

  THE TREES AND THE NIGHT

  BY DANIEL FRANCIS MCHUGH

  Copyright @ 2012

  Daniel Francis McHugh

  http://www.seraphinium.net

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be

  used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without

  written permission from the author.

  McHugh, Daniel F. (2012).

  The Trees and the Night

  (The Seraphinium Series, Book 3)

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my siblings:

  Ellen Douville, William McHugh, John McHugh, Tim McHugh,

  Chris McHugh & Laura McHugh.

  "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

  -Bilbo Baggins

  THE NEARING WORLD

  Table of Contents

  SYNOPSIS: BOOK II OF THE SERAPHINIUM............................. 7

  CHAPTER 1: PURSUIT BY NOBODY.................................... 11

  CHAPTER 2: THE CROSSROADS....................................... 29

  CHAPTER 3: A FIRE STRUCK........................................ 50

  CHAPTER 4: THE SHABBY MAN....................................... 61

  CHAPTER 5: THE FRENZY OF THE KILL............................... 69

  CHAPTER 6: THE STONE BARRIER.................................... 93

  CHAPTER 7: THE FLOATING PALACE................................. 119

  CHAPTER 8: FAITH REWARDED...................................... 143

  CHAPTER 9: SMOKE OR FIRE?...................................... 149

  CHAPTER 10: STEEL RAIN......................................... 162

  CHAPTER 11: CRIES OF MERCY..................................... 184

  CHAPTER 12: THE SNARE.......................................... 204

  CHAPTER 13: THE FOREST OF STEEL................................ 223

  CHAPTER 14: BLUE SKIES......................................... 251

  CHAPTER 15: SMOKE IN THE DISTANCE.............................. 262

  CHAPTER 16: JERGSON’S WAY..................................... 278

  CHAPTER 17: THE TREES AND THE NIGHT............................ 302

  CHAPTER 18: A GOOD OMEN FOR A BAD DAY.......................... 324

  CHAPTER 19: GREEB THE ONE EYE.................................. 356

  CHAPTER 20: ULTIMATUM.......................................... 368

  CHAPTER 21: FEINT AND PARRY.................................... 388

  CHAPTER 22: THE FOREST’S EDGE.................................. 415

  CHAPTER 23: THE HORN........................................... 439

  CHAPTER 24: WAR CIRCLE......................................... 452

  CHAPTER 25: THE PRECIPICE...................................... 470

  CHAPTER 26: INVITATION ACCEPTED................................ 499

  CHAPTER 27: CAPTURE............................................ 525

  CHAPTER 28: THE VALLEY BELOW................................... 533

  GLOSSARY OF CHARACTERS AND LOCATIONS........................... 543

  GLOSSARY BY LAND OR RACE....................................... 552

  GLOSSARY OF MAPS............................................... 558

  SYNOPSIS: BOOK II OF THE SERAPHINIUM

  Kael and his compatriots reach the military barracks of the capital city of Zodra. The boy is reunited with his father and they share grief over the death of Aemmon. Brelg has resumed his duties as an instructor in the Hold and others in Kael’s group find roles within the military build-up of the Zodrian Guard.

  Kael’s first encounter with his grandfather, King Macin, is a tense one. The treacherous Colonel Udas is exposed to the king by the manipulations of Ader and the Sprite girl called Lilywynn. Udas and his supply corps are removed from their positions of power and replaced by militia recruits from the South.

  An attempt to kill Kael occurs shortly after his arrival in Zodra. Granu thwarts the attempt but is nearly killed in the confusion. Cefiz almost catches the Borz assassin before it flees the Hold by flying from the rooftop.

  Ader offers to help Kael discover more about his abilities and possible purpose in this world. Teeg undertakes his own tutelage of Kael by teaching the boy the secrets of the Master of Spies. After weeks in the capital, Kael overhears Ader and Lilywynn making plans to assess the strength of the Ulrog Horde. The boy determines to accompany them north and into danger. Granu and Cefiz, who have proclaimed themselves Kael’s protectors, guess the plan and join the group as they ride from Zodra.

  Eidyn has fallen in love with Lilywynn and follows her North after he discovers her missing from Zodra. Teeg accompanies his prince.

  On the road North the group come across a mysterious figure, Nostr the Ulrog. Nostr is the head of an order of scribes charged with keeping a written record of all that occurs in the world. The order also has shown the ability to see into the future. Ader does not trust the Delvin Scribes and certainly does not trust Nostr their Prelate. Ader believes the scribes have alerted Amird to crucial information and he is unsure of their motives.

  Manfir remains in Zodra outfitting his newly formed army of Southern militiamen. Brelg and Flair remain with him and begin to mold the new army into a fighting unit.

  Kael and his group camp beside a butte with a pool near its base, the Pedestal. The Borz assassin makes another attempt on Kael’s life and is stopped by the vigilance of Cefiz.

  Vieri Shan of the Borz is nothing if not persistent. Her discovery of Lilywynn and Sprig of the Sprites shocks her, but she devises a plan to remove Lilywynn from the equation in hopes that Kael will become more vulnerable.

  Manfir is alerted to the news of the Keltaran Anvil on the march. Granu’s brother Fenrel leads the army of giants on an attack of Zodra. Flair proposes a newly outfitted militia army rush toward the attackers and confront them at a line of hills known as the Bear’s Knuckles. No better plan can be devised and Manfir agrees.

  Vieri Shan lays a trap for Lilywynn and the Sprite girl is quickly captured by the Ulrog and dragged into the Scythtar Mountains. Vieri trails the beasts with the intent to double back and kill Kael as his group camps near the Frizgard River. Cefiz ponders his group’s choice of campsite and guesses Vieri’s intent. He scales the Scythtar cliffs and lays in wait for the assassin.

  Cefiz confronts Vieri on the cliffs. She is trapped but begs for death when the Ulrog stumble upon the confrontation. Cefiz realizes the woman and her people have been manipulated in some way. He offers her freedom in exchange for Kael’s life. She puts a hold on Kael’s death sentence and flees, only to return and save Cefiz from the stone men.

  On the riverbank of the Frizgard revelations are made. The Borz have been manipulated and Lilywynn is being taken to Kel Izgra. The group decides to break apart. Teeg is sent south to warn of the Borz threat. Vieri joins Cefiz and Granu on a trek into the Scyhthtar to save Lilywynn. Eidyn, Kael, Ader and Sprig are sent across the Northern plains to attempt to cut off Lilywynn’s captors at the Valley of Mnim.

  BOOK III OF THE SERAPHINIUM

  THE TREES AND THE NIGHT

  CHAPTER 1: PURSUIT BY NOBODY

  Ader drooped on the back of the giant gray stallion as he navigated the breaks and cuts of the Northern Eru grasslands. Further south the plains flattened into a wide expanse of flowing prairie, but this close to the Scythtar, the mountain’s winds and weather shaped the land. It had been nearly a full day of running. The group attempted to rest several times, but a warning signal
from Sprig cut each attempt short. The Ulrog behind did not slow.

  The Seraph turned and looked over his shoulder. Kael trailed by a few yards aboard his sturdy chestnut. The boy’s face betrayed his deep concern for the Seraph. Ader smiled at Kael to allay those fears.

  “I am simply weary, Kael,” said Ader. “I used much of my energy on the lead priest. I will regain my strength within the next few days.”

  Kael nodded in reply to his mentor, but his expression remained unchanged. Within moments the rapid pounding of hooves announced the arrival of Eidyn. The Elf prince appeared from behind a low hill charging hard to catch his comrades. As Eidyn slid alongside the Seraph, Sprig darted from beneath the nearby grasses and leapt onto the back of Tarader. Ader scowled at the Elf.

  “Prince Eidyn, you will remain with the group,” demanded Ader. “We need to put distance between ourselves and the Ulrog, not bait them forward.”

  “I attempt to buy us some time by harassing the beasts,” frowned Eidyn. “Each time I encounter them, they slow.”

  “You exasperate me. Why can’t you simply accept an order without question?” said the old man shaking his head. “Very well. You do not know the Ulrog as I do. Your attempts to slow them will have little effect. You waste the energy of your mount by sprinting back and forth. Energy the animal will need if we are to stay alive.

  “Eventually your horse will tire, but the Ulrog will not. The Hackles will dog us until we can find allies or we are dead. It matters not if you thin their numbers by two or three. The remainder will press on without stopping. Our only escape lies in finding the roving Erutre camp or heading south to the Zodrian lines.”

  “But if we head south...” protested Eidyn.

  “We leave Lilywynn to a desperate fate,” interrupted Ader, “and so you see why our only option is to outrun the Ulrog, and with luck discover the Eru encampment?”

  Hnarg rumbled forward crushing the tall grasses beneath his stony feet. The Ulrog priest held out hope. The occasional appearance of the Elven archer fed that hope. It confirmed that his quarry toiled not too far ahead, not out of reach. His gamble to chase the Seraph might yet succeed. If it did not, Woil or even Sulgor himself would tear the priest apart.

  The Elf’s ambushes rarely succeeded. Several Hackles fell, but often the archer’s arrows halted within the stony hides of Hnarg’s brethren. The Hackles howled in pain then simply ripped the steel tipped darts from their flesh and charged on.

  Hnarg’s packs slowed as they neared an unusually tall band of waving grasses. The ripe seed heads swayed a full foot over the lead Hackles’ heads. Hnarg sensed their fear. The Eru horsemen used such locations as a means of ambush when the Ulrog ventured south. They laid their well trained beasts low in the cover, then sprang up as an Ulrog pack wandered close. When effective, the maneuver devastated many an Ulrog pack.

  Hnarg pushed past his men toward the lead. Usually the priest chose to motivate through pain, but this circumstance was unusual. Hnarg spun on his Hackles.

  “There will be no stopping,” shouted the Ulrog priest. “We have no choice but to pursue the Seraph. Once we left the Scythtar we were committed. If we do not return with the old man’s head, Lord Woil will take ours!”

  Hnarg turned back to the high grasses and plunged in amongst them.

  “Do not fear the Eru.” called the priest as the tall grass rustled in a display of his movement ahead. “Fear your masters!”

  The remaining Hackles quickly glanced to one another then plunged forward themselves.

  Kael could not be sure how long they languished in the saddle, but he knew his chestnut neared exhaustion. The signs were far too evident to ignore. The animal’s gait grew stiff and tentative. Foam gathered about the horse’s mouth and she snorted, fighting the bit placed there.

  “Ader,” called the boy. “We need to rest.”

  The Seraph spun and quickly appraised the boy’s mount. Immediately he nodded his head. The signs were obvious. If they pushed any harder, Kael would lose his horse, and the small group would lose its advantage of speed. The old man waved ahead.

  “The next sign of water,” stated Ader. “Make sure you tend to the horses before yourselves. They are our only salvation.”

  Shortly, they came upon a small pond surrounded by the high grasses of the Erutre. Animal trails ran to and from the water. Kael dismounted and led his chestnut down a trail to the water’s edge. He removed the horse’s reins and allowed it to drink. As the chestnut stood near the pond, Kael retrieved some of the fresh water and sprinkled it across the animal to cool it.

  Sprig slid from Tarader’s back and darted into the grasses. Ader and Eidyn also dismounted.

  “I have led us east, but have edged south as well,” began Ader. “I hoped this might dissuade the Ulrog from following. The more we journey south the more uncomfortable they will become. They do not like to roam too far from the Scythtar.”

  “It does not seem to have effected their goal,” replied Eidyn. “When last I encountered them, they moved forward unhesitatingly.”

  Ader grimaced and nodded his head.

  “Death is the great motivator,” returned the old man. “The priests drive them forward with threats and in turn are driven forth by the threats of the Malveel. I fear that their leader has everything to lose if he abandons the chase.”

  Kael’s chestnut shook its head and snorted. The water helped, but the beast wearied.

  “We will reduce our speed,” stated Ader with a look of concern, “but we cannot afford to rest. Ready your mount, Kael.”

  Within moments they abandoned the pond.

  Hnarg eyed his tracker critically as the stony creature hunched over the water’s edge.

  “Well?” snarled the priest impatiently.

  The tracker rose and bowed to the priest.

  “The group remains intact,” growled the tracker through broken teeth. “They halted here for a brief time. Refreshed their mounts, then sped on.”

  “They did not tarry?” snapped Hnarg.

  “No, my lord,” answered the tracker. “They were here only a few moments.”

  Hnarg cursed and spat into the pond. He needed to wear them down. Each moment they endured became another moment the Seraph led his group into the damnable lands of the horsemen. He felt the resolve of his pack wane with each stride through the tall grasses.

  The Eru were to be feared, and for good reason. The horsemen owned great successes against the Ulrog. The Eru were nomads, constantly on the move. Unlike the Zodrians, the Eru possessed no towns or villages to protect. The horsemen kept scouts roaming the Northern plains and simply melted into the tall grasses when the Ulrog ventured within their lands, only to surprise the stone men when the Ulrog attempted an exit.

  Hnarg’s tracker read the anger in his leader’s eyes and like most of his brethren he knew the importance of currying favor with his superiors.

  “However,” added the tracker, “one of their mounts grows lame.”

  Hnarg turned on his subordinate.

  “The beast’s gait has become stiff and short,” continued the tracker pointing to markings in the mud and grass around the pool.

  “How long?” questioned Hnarg.

  “I cannot be certain,” replied the tracker, “one, maybe two days, but its usefulness cannot last beyond that.”

  Hnarg grimaced. Two days more in the grasslands was far too much. However, his packs were a small party and their quarry even smaller. With luck they might avoid the nomads and bring the head of Ader before Izgra. The priest scowled knowing his alternatives were limited. He turned to face his pack. They milled about glancing nervously at the tall grasses surrounding them.

  “You heard,” shouted Hnarg. “One of their mounts grows lame. Within a day we will have Ader DeHartstron in our hands.”

  A low growl of anticipation ran through the pack, but it remained listless. Hnarg charged forward and slammed his balled fists into the hunched shoulders of a particularly lifeless Hackle.
The creature howled in pain and gnashed his broken teeth as the priest’s stony hands locked around his head and drew him forward.

  “Think,” hissed Hnarg. “Think of the reward you will find in Kel Izgra if we return with the head of the Seraph.”

  The howls of pain were replaced by roars of approval as the Hackle’s face twisted into a maniacal expression of fervor. Hnarg released the Hackle and addressed the pack.

  “We are NOBODY!” shouted Hnarg. “Without the head of the Seraph we are all condemned. The Malveel will waste no time disposing of us. They will make us examples for leaving our post.”

  The priest turned and pointed to the muddied tracks about the pond.

  “Here lies your hope,” growled Hnarg. “Once this animal falters, the Seraph must slow, and even the Eternal Horse cannot carry three upon its back. We must push them. Keep them running and they will be ours.”

  The pack howled. Hnarg motioned east and the Hackles turned and sprinted from the pond.

  The air grew thin and cold. Vieri fought to catch her breath. The climb proved difficult and as the Borz Windrider looked up she realized they were nowhere near the top of the ridge line. A muffled cough from behind turned her head. Cefiz struggled up the slope behind her, keeping one hand over his mouth. When he reached her, the Guardsman looked up.

  He didn’t appear well. The fall into the Frizgard and the subsequent beating against its rocks did great damage. His face grew ashen and he shivered uncontrollably. Anger entered the Windrider’s thoughts. This Keltaran giant drove them to their deaths. Vieri turned back north.

  “We must stop and rest,” called the Windrider.

  Granu already outstripped her by thirty yards, highlighting the insane pace at which he pushed the trio. The giant halted and turned down slope, narrowing his eyes.

  “The heights are safety, girl,” growled the big man. “To tarry is folly.”

  “The Ulrog packs race across the plains in search of Holy Berbati,” argued the girl. “No one follows us.”