Chapter 22

1.2K 130 18
                                    

Where there are old forests, there are yoab. In these later years, the great blind beasts survive only in the mountains of the north and east. House Pelion's trophy hall boasts a skeleton said to be from the largest recorded yoab at a length of thirty paces and crest-height of three fathoms.

—From Natural History of Arkendia, Sir Alhimbror Green

*

*

YOAB RUN

*

Harric dismounted when they reached the place in the fire-cones where Geraldine lay chewing her cud with Kogan passed out on her back.

"Wake him," said Willard. "Can't wait all day. And you might as well wash his face a bit while you're at it."

Harric handed Spook and his reins to Caris and took down his waterskin from his saddle. The long-suffering musk auroch watched through woolly bangs as he approached, waterskin in hand.

"This should be entertaining," said Brolli.

"If it works at all," said Harric. "He's pretty far gone." Standing outside the priest's considerable reach, he squirted his waterskin into the priest's face, and jumped back.

"Time to wake, Father!" Brolli crowed.

Kogan's eyes fluttered. His bleary gaze found the Kwendi on Idgit. "Lead on, fair damsel!"

Brolli looked to Harric, "What is this damsel word?"

"It means 'brave warrior," said Harric.

Brolli grinned. "I am the damsel, then."

"Har! Me too," said Kogan. "We're damsels together."

Caris gave Harric a look.

"No way I'm telling him," Harric whispered. "Too funny."

Willard drew the map from its tube. Instead of unrolling it, he beckoned to Harric. "Mudruffle isn't...awake...yet, so since you read Iberg, you'll keep the map."

Harric walked to Willard and accepted the map. It was an impressive document; wound about a pair of staves as long as his arm, it felt heavy and sturdy in his hands, and much too large for Mudruffle to pack around with him on his map-making expeditions. As Harric understood it, the little golem had used rough parchments for notes and drawings on each expedition, and then transferred them to this fine "master map" when he returned.

"Show it to us, Harric," said Willard. "Since we haven't looked at this map together since before the attack on the fort, I want everyone to take a good look. That way if we're separated at least you'll be oriented."

Harric climbed onto a high knot of roots and unrolled the map from first the lower stave, then the upper, until the whole map hung from the top.

As he held the map to his side, the others leaned forward in their saddles to study it. Harric examined it and quickly recalled its orientation. "We are here," he said, pointing out the tiny sketch of a silver tower in the center of the map. "Over there to our west—" he pointed to a blue line running north-south along the left edge of the map "—is the River Arkend, and the gray line shadowing it is the Free Road to the northlands. This drawing of huts must be Gallows Ferry."

Willard nodded. "We need to get back to the river so we can get a ship to take us up through the Giant's Gap up into the northlands, but Bannus and his men cut off the routes west. Our only choice is to flee east and find another way back to the river before he catches up."

"It's a race," Brolli said.

"It is," said Willard. "Harric, point out Mudruffle's route north on the map."

The Knave of Souls - Fantasy - Sequel to The Jack of SoulsWhere stories live. Discover now