The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 57: Buying Time

They set off as soon as Tia felt the storm fall. Enlil reached the target much quicker than either of them had anticipated; Tia supposed all of his physical training had effectively moulded him into a warrior. Contrast to the spindly, half-starved runaway from before, he was now broad and sturdy, with bulking muscles. Mommu had grown, too. Where he would have struggled to keep up with lithe, energetic Tia not two years ago, he now was riding his carrier at the same speed as her, his thinned face turned ahead with grim determination. His bumbling innocence had gone, too.

It made Tia rather sad seeing how much everyone had changed, as if she had lost something. The speculation puzzled her. Putting it aside, she urged her creature on, screwing her eyes up against the sand flying in the air. Her cloak, which was a magenta and shorter version to the apprentice’s one that she used to wear, rippled behind her.

The geography of their surrounding was becoming increasingly familiar as they rode on. She started to recognise some of the rock faces, fallen trees, and sandstone structures. This was the scene before her eyes every morning and night during her year at Ptarmigan Fortress, Hearing twice daily with diligence.

The sense of having returned home was strong, even if this was not quite Mooncliffe. The high stone walls stood proudly along the top of the cragged cliff edge; the lookout spots in the sides staring like eyes as the pair rode past. The fortress had always been busy whenever Tia had been there. The sounds of people barking orders and of marching feet would frequently be heard, but at that moment all they could hear was eerie silence. They had all but left the cries and clangs of the battle behind.

“I will Sing to you from ahead, Tia,” said Mommu, giving her a wobbly smile. She nodded.

“Be safe, Mommu,” she answered, gripping her staff in her right hand and guiding her carrier to an overlooking edge. Mommu urged his animal ahead in a canter, his curls bouncing in the wind. The sounds of hooves died away in the distance. Tia’s carrier snuffled, eyeing the precipice.

The wind had weakened to just a slight, chilly breeze. It was still cold; the high spot where she was standing gave her little shelter. Her face tingled as the air wafted past her sweaty face. Her gloved left hand tightened around the reins as she shivered. The coral stone at the top of her staff glistened in the sunlight; where the colour of the Wind gem flowed deep blue and gentle, the Gwentian stone appeared to burn with fire. There was no doubt that Mister Kishar’s staff was different to her original one, but this one appeared to be more powerful, and she was grateful for that.

It was a long way down. Just peering over the edge gave Tia a rush of adrenaline. Mommu would probably have felt dizzy, but the sheer drop was exhilarating. She could see each individual, tiny piece of rock and sand at the bottom, far below.  The small desert creatures crept around the bottom, darting from shadow to shadow. The dried river bed ran from the far right, where Mommu had gone, to the far left, along the Dernexan-Gwentian border where it would eventually emerge on an incline, opening up to the Nabudice Desert at the Gwentian-Mawlinese border.

Her gaze ran along the vertical surfaces of the walls over the edge. She needed to find something to impede the marching army. The dried riverbed below revealed a narrow path, only wide enough for four men to stride abreast before it rose steeply on either side. She could see tiny holes in the rising wall, which had allowed pitiful levels of air passage for the prisoners in the underground dungeons of the city. All they would have been able to see were the shadows cast by the cliff overhead and the sandstone surfaces.

Piles of rocks littered the edges, both on her side of the crevice and on the other side. This area was so prone to rockslides it would not be a huge challenge to cause an avalanche, permanently blocking the path. The soldiers would have no choice but to retreat back the way they came. The long and winding path would delay them for several hours, but not permanently.