Chapter 3
The desert sands reflected the radiant beams of afternoon light, its glow spilling through the forest along the border of the Mayahol. Trees thinned where dirt gave way to desert, and thick swaths of sand poured further into the woods where the sandstorms had blown. There were scattered bushes here and there where the sand had yet to smother the leaves. Occasionally a lizard would dart between them in a streak of dull green. The edge of the forest felt the wrath of the desert heat, and the assorted weeds and vines that would've thrived deeper into the woods were reduced to nothing more than dried roots at the border.
Eaisan Lurei paced back and forth, his feet going from dirt to sand to dirt again. He had yet to draw his weapon, though it certainly looked as though he wanted to. He wore his green wraparound jacket and flared brown pants to blend in with the rest of the forest. Behind him, no more than thirty feet away, Arus and Vultrel sat in branches of one of the larger trees, confident that they'd found a spot where the remaining leaves were thick enough to mask their presence. If Eaisan knew they had disobeyed his order and followed him, they would certainly receive a tongue-lashing . . . Perhaps more.
Arus grimaced as he remembered the last time he and Vultrel had disregarded his master's orders. A pack of wolves had been reported just outside the walls of Keroko, and he and Vultrel had gone to investigate despite Eaisan's stern order to stay away. In little time, the boys found themselves scampering away from seven wolves, and it was only by the grace of the Maker that they managed to get back into the village safely. But both Arus' mother and Vultrel's father put them hard at work on the Lurei farm for the next month through searing sun and pouring rain. Arus certainly had no interest in repeating that punishment, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him, and Vultrel didn't have to push the idea much before he agreed.
"What's he doing?" Vultrel whispered from his position on two thick branches to his right. "He's acting like he sees something. Can you tell if there's anything out there?"
Arus squinted as he shifted his attention to the desert itself. "I can't see. It's too bright."
"I wonder what those cursed Mages are up to," Vultrel thought aloud. "They wouldn't have attacked Keroko without reason, right?"
"Doubt it." Arus was looking at Eaisan again. The wind blew, brushing the leaves against him. "You don't think they want to start another war, do you?"
"I don't know. Father said that their numbers were greatly reduced during the last one. I'm not sure they could stand against us."
Below, Eaisan disappeared behind the trees to the north. They waited for a moment to see if he paced back before Vultrel pulled himself onto a higher branch and began climbing northward. "Come on, Arus. Let's follow him."
They scuttled from tree to tree, following the desert border northward behind Eaisan. He stopped every so often, staring into the distance or examining tracks in the sand, but then he would continue on in search of whatever it was he had yet to find. Arus moved with the experience of a hunter, rustling no leaves and breaking no branches. Eaisan's hearing was sharp, but Arus had spent many summer days hunting in the woods. The years had taught him how to move virtually undetected. Vultrel was always close behind, his natural agility aiding him in matching Arus' speed and silence.
"How far is he going to go?" he muttered as they crawled across the branches. "We've got to be close to Narleaha by now."
Arus wasn't listening. The formation of the trees was leading them closer to the Mayahol, and with it, Master Eaisan. He stopped short of climbing onto the tree just behind where Eaisan had stopped. In their current position, they sat little more than fifteen feet from him. If they continued forward, they'd be practically on top of him. "We're getting too close," he whispered. "If we climb onto that tree, he'll notice us for sure."
Vultrel's eyes wandered in search of another route. "How about that one?" He pointed to a much higher area where branches intersected with those from another tree of the same height. "We can cross up there and then come around the other side."
It seemed like a long journey to Arus, but it was better than being caught. "Alright," he agreed. He kept his eyes on Eaisan as he stepped up onto the next branch, a limb no thicker around than the handle of his sword. It sagged under his weight, but held. He had begun to reach for the next limb when Eaisan's hand moved to his coat. A thick knife appeared in his grasp, and he let it fly with a firm flick of his wrist. The blade lodged in the branch beneath Arus' feet where the limb met the tree's trunk. There was a loud crack, and splinters of wood sailed from the joint as the branch tore away. Arus grabbed onto Vultrel's tunic as he fell in a frantic attempt to catch himself, but his weight pulled them both down, and they tumbled to the ground with crash.
"If you are hunting an enemy," Eaisan began as he approached, "it's probably best to be sure that your enemy isn't hunting you."
Arus rubbed his neck and grimaced as he sat up. "Well spoken, Master. I apologize, we just wanted—"
"We'll discuss it when we get back," he interrupted, offering the boys a hand. "If your mothers find you missing they're likely to come looking for you, and it's dangerous enough for you two to be here, let alone your mothers. Come."
Eaisan started into the forest, but Vultrel held his eyes on the desert. "What were you watching, Father? Did you see any of them?"
"I'm not sure if they were Vermillion Mages or not, but I saw several figures heading in the direction of Narleaha. Perhaps they're raiding all the local towns. Maybe they need food or supplies."
"Shouldn't we head for Narleaha, then?" Arus called, chasing after Eaisan. Vultrel reluctantly followed.
"I'll speak with Mayor Randolf," he replied, "but I doubt we have the extra men to spare at the moment. We want to keep Keroko well-defended for now, and the militia only has but so many members."
"I think we should just go up there and handle the Mages ourselves," Vultrel grumbled, smacking a clenched fist into his palm.
"Discipline, Son," Eaisan warned. "You must learn patience. Without it, all else you have learned will crumble under the rigors of battle."
"I don't understand, Sir," Arus shook his head. "The people of Narleaha could be dying while we're out here being ‘patient.' What good can come from that?"
"We don't know that the Mages are attacking Narleaha," Eaisan explained as he climbed over a fallen tree. "We know they harbor ill feelings toward Keroko—and me in particular—because of the events of the war. What if they are simply headed north to try and launch a surprise attack from that direction? Perhaps they're intending to test our defenses in different areas until they find a weakness. Or perhaps they aren't attacking anyone at all. As I said, they may not have even been Mages. We don't know enough to simply run off to Narleaha. We have to return to Keroko, warn our people, and we can decide what to do from there."
"I see," Arus nodded.
Vultrel shook his head. "I just . . . I don't want them to hurt anyone else."
"I know, Son," Eaisan's voice was almost a whisper. "I know."
They continued through the woods with nothing but the occasional chirping of the birds to break the silence. It was frightening to think that the Mages could wage war upon Asteria again. Then what would Father have died for? If the Vermillion Mages attack us and finally defeat us, my father's death would've been for nothing.
But the battle would give me a chance to avenge him.
No, I can't think like that. Vengeance isn't a good reason to kill a man. Still, if they attack the village again, it would be the perfect opportunity for me to settle the score . . .
"No, can't think like that," Arus muttered, shaking his head.
"Did you say something, Arus?" Eaisan looked back at him.
The blood drained from his face. "Uh, I was just wondering if we had to tell our mothers about any of this."
To his surprise, Eaisan shrugged. "I won't tell them if you don't," he said. Arus let
out a sigh and exchanged a relieved look with Vultrel. "However," Eaisan turned, and his lips formed a sly smile, "that doesn't mean your disobedience will be forgotten. After all, I've been meaning to take some time off from working on the farm, and I'll need a couple of fine youths to care for my tomatoes while I do."
Arus and Vultrel hung their heads. "Busted," Vultrel grumbled.