Sons of Ironstorm - Book 3: New Alliance

Chapter 12: Shadow and Fire

"In flame and darkness they reign, beasts of the earth,

Unholy rulers of subterranean caverns of rock and stone.

Children of the Abyss, they consume order and life,

yielding only chaos and death, destruction their ally.

Scaly monsters of the deep, Scions of Shadow and Fire."

- from 'Dragons', author unknown

The Chalis sun burned out of the early autumn sky with a fury that wilted leaf and seared flesh, though it had yet to reach mid-morning. The young man who sat beneath it, looking up through the canopy at Ri'im's southern strength, felt that fury only lightly through skin darkened from long days in the dry desert air. The fire of need that burned inside him, however, seared at his very soul; a need to quit this newfound prison he now was in and range across the remaining leagues between him and his destiny.

Yet, as he did for the hundredth time this morning, Patrik Ironstorm sighed and stifled the need to once again scan the neat and tidy campsite they had been brought to after their capture.

To say the Chalis Hornsmen knew how to survive in the jungles of the Chalis would've been a gross understatement. They not only survived, they thrived. The wiry men in their camouflage clothing, swaddled head to toe in what appeared to be layer after layer of airy linen, seemed as much a part of the jungle around them as the colorful birds overhead, the croaking amphibians hidden in treetop pools and the ever present humidity. They moved swiftly and confidently through it without a noise, could read the slightest sign and know instantly where they were. And, instead of being drained by the humidity, they appeared to be fueled by it; drawing strength from the lung-weakening moisture to push even harder.

Unfortunately the tolerance the Hornsmen had for the withering extremes of the southern jungles didn't extend to strangers: after their capture, Patrik and his company were driven hard until they were virtually collapsing from exhaustion, their path obliquely away from Earthforge to the northeast. Only the Chain Island soldiers, Master Charon and Patrik had strength enough to not drop suddenly to the ground when, noting a growing need to drag prisoners who had collapsed, the Hornsmen reluctantly called a halt.

This added resilience only meant they were then used to carry those who did collapse after the Hornsmen resumed their forced march through the jungle. Not a few times did Patrik find himself carrying either Jaeda, or Inureah, sometimes even both in an attempt to keep up with their captors' demands.

Only when night finally fell did the Hornsmen pitch camp, swiftly and efficiently, slinging camouflaged tents between trees with a speed that impressed even Morningwhisper's hardened Chain Islanders. After sticking pointed sticks smeared with a number of different plant juices into the ground at strategic points to keep out insects and other larger predators, the Hornsmen bundled their prisoners together in a big heap in the center of camp and calmly went to sleep.

When morning returned, not a few of the captured company heaved sighs of relief, after hearing the tumult of the jungle become a cacophony of roaring, hooting and screeching after nightfall. Several times they thought they heard large animals crash by the camp mere paces from the stakes the Hornsmen had placed, their breath snuffling and testing the air as they went only to continue on after a heart stopping pause. It seemed at any moment something would hurtle into camp to devour them where they sat, helpless and roped together, unable to defend themselves.

So it was with a great deal of relief that morning finally arrived and it found none of them eaten. Still, as Patrik tested his bonds once again, their situation wasn't much improved. 'That is, until I do something to change it,' he thought darkly.