Oracus: The Lavorian Rider

Twenty-One - Grevlors, Lisors And Prisoners

Later that afternoon, Oracus said goodbye to Eistra and left Lalacia with Kivali and Quent. All day, Oracus had been longing to see Bandor again, and just as they reached the base of the mountains, he felt his Lavorian's mind scratching against his.

"Hello, stranger," Oracus said excitedly.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," Bandor replied, his words echoing in Oracus's head.

"Of course not," Oracus answered. "We just left later than we'd intended."

"Is everything okay?" Bandor asked. "I can feel your anxiety."

"I'm fine, I think," Oracus replied. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you though."

Within an hour, Bandor had rejoined the group and they were following a winding footpath that directed them south between the high peaks. Oracus immediately told Bandor of his dream in the library, and they then spent the rest of the day debating whether it was a real vision or not. Bandor had suggested speaking to Kivali, but Oracus wanted to keep it to himself, at least until he had met Catania in Tallarin and had the chance to compare her to the Catania in his dreams.

Between secret chats with Bandor, Oracus would spar with Kivali. Since his single victory in the Raspian Forest several days ago, he'd been unable to defeat her again, and he was being struck down with boring regularity.

"Come on, Oracus. I haven't needed to use my power once yet!" Kivali cried impatiently as the late afternoon sun was beginning to set.

Oracus hit the ground again, this time holding his knee. When he glanced back up at her, she urged him to attack, and he duly obliged. When he swung at her head, she ducked, and as he stabbed his blade at her ribs, she vanished from sight, only to reappear behind him and hold her sword at the back of his neck.

"Let us hope King Jowra falls onto your sword out of pity," Quent chuckled with delight.

They continued along the mountain path until the sun had fallen behind the peaks and darkness had settled around them. Oracus's legs were beginning to ache, and he longed for a place to camp, but then Bandor stopped in his tracks and ordered them all to be quiet.

"What's wrong?" Oracus asked him aloud.

"I can hear voices coming from the path ahead," Bandor replied quietly.

"Then we need to get out of sight!" Kivali hissed urgently. She ushered them all into the thicket beside the path and they lay very still in the bushes. "Don't make a sound," she ordered.

Oracus peered nervously through the leaves until a strange group of creatures passed them by, most of them chattering in nasal tones. The dozen creatures that were talking were thin and pale, with filthy rags that covered their torsos. Their fingers were long and dexterous, and their faces sharp and cunning, with fangs creeping over their bottom lip. Oddly, Oracus recognised the creatures, because one had served him rotten food during his short imprisonment in Fervia. The memory of the creature sniffing his arm made his shudder. The other three beasts that walked with the spindly creatures, however, Oracus didn't recognise. They were all big and dumb, with darker skin and a huge oval head on top of a thick neck. Their arms were so long their fists almost dragged along the gravel path, and as their stumpy legs plodded forwards, their bare feet scuffed clumsily on the ground. They wore only brown leather shorts, leaving their hairy barrel chests exposed to the cool night air. While they walked, two of the beasts were scratching their heads stupidly, while the other was smelling his armpit.

"Look, they have prisoners!" Bandor observed.

Oracus had been so interested in the creatures he hadn't noticed the two shackled men in the centre of the group. They both looked exhausted, but were being prodded with a sharp stick to keep them moving forwards. Oracus's eyes widened, and he wondered what might happen to the men.