Bloodsword: War of the Leaf

Into the Northlands

Tev didn’t know how long they pelted through the forest at full tilt.  All he knew was that they ran until they were exhausted.  And then they ran some more, until the sun was nearing the horizon to signal the advent of evening.   But all he could think of was the sound of the dragon calling him back from the brink of death.  Almost as if it had the power to deny the Seventh Dragon taking his living soul to the Underworld.  And then came the rain of light, the one that had infused him with strength, restoring him completely.

With an oath, Lax tripped and fell on his face, skidding and rolling in the damp underbrush before coming to an abrupt halt against a weathered oak.  Joran quickly came to the Ajanti’s aid, but the shorter elf slapped the Kensarthi’s hand away with a snarl.

“Get the hell away from me, you traitor!” Lax barked, pushing himself onto his hands and knees.  “I think you’ve helped us all quite enough.”

“It wasn’t his fault, Lax,” Kora quickly reminded her countryman, "You heard that Mardish agent as well as I.  They had a spell cast on him."  That last bit she managed to say as she stumbled to a halt to half turn towards her fellow Ajanti, putting her hands on her knees as she tried to refill her lungs with not only oxygen, but with strength.  But, after a moment’s effort, she sank back onto her buttocks, having failed.

“Burn me, but I’m done for,” she moaned, almost falling over in exhaustion.

That was enough to force Tev to pull up short, the human turning to jog lightly back to where the bulk of the pit team had come to rest.

“As am I,” Feral’Sath added, staggering to a halt just beside Tev.  Although powerful and muscular, he wasn’t the swiftest and had lagged behind most of the time as they ran.  He was just now catching up.  Thoroughly winded, the dark skinned Dolomin bent over at the waist, his chest working like a set of bellows.

For his part, Joran almost slunk away from Lax, the expression on his face sullen.  But the lean Kensarthi didn’t say a word, slumping to the ground without a sound to stare into the darkness.  Even his breathing, as ragged and gasping as Feral’Sath’s, faded into silence.

Recovering more quickly than the others, Tev straightened to look up at the sky through the tops of the trees.  Try as he might, he still didn’t know where they had landed, having formed the jump gate out of shear desperation in Abydos.  And that was by far a more pressing problem than dealing with Joran’s unwitting treachery.  It was only luck that had thrown them so far away from both the Mardish and the Solavar.  Luck that had barely held when the dragon had appeared to save them.

Tev half closed his eyes and let his other senses, the ones that had become sharper and more powerful with each passing moment as he wielded the blood magic, drift off into the darkness.  Yes, they were still there, just keeping pace with their torrid flight.  Tev’s eyes flickered open to narrow in thought.  ‘Mardish.’  The Crimson Shadow, though thoroughly defeated by the dragon back in the glade, hadn’t given up the pursuit.

And it wasn’t a small force that followed them either.  At least five hundred men, with several very powerful sorcerers among them.  Those men shone like beacon fires above the dimmer lights of the more ordinary agents.  Tev’s eyes closed again as he felt out along the path they had just taken.

It was as if he could actually see a map of the land they had traversed, seeing every tree, every hill in exquisite detail.  ‘Perhaps it was something that dragon did,’ Tev mused as he scouted behind them, carefully avoiding the body of Mardish.  With that many sorcerers counted in their number, they would have wards that covered leagues in every direction.  ‘An extra boost of some sort that gives the blood magic more potency.  After all, I have a feeling that that dragon knew more about the blood magic and the Sword of Blood than any other creature living.  Including me.’