Savage Rising: Eternal Forest Saga - Book 1

Chapter 18

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The plan was in place, but none of them liked it. The long journey to Tranquility seemed like the best course of action, but it meant crossing right through the heart of the dwarven territory, which was still crawling with balisekt soldiers. There was no going around the hoard. Their best option was to cut right through the decimated dwarven marketplace and keep moving south.

The area would likely be abandoned, so the soldiers would have no reason to patrol it. All of their efforts would be concentrated in the city where the dwarves had retreated. They could be in the southern Wilds before the army was any the wiser, but only if they moved fast enough. From there, it would be on to the elven city of Moon-hollow, a quick pass through faerie territory, and lastly the Savage Lands to the south, where Tranquility, the Temple, and a massive army would be waiting for them.

It was a risky plan, but it was all they had.

Heeska led the way through the trees as they descended the rolling hills of the Wilds towards the small clearing where the marketplace once stood. If they accidentally came across a balisekt patrol, it would be better for them to see one of their own than a wondering human, elf, or faerie. The forest had an eerie chill to it, despite the warmth of the spring sun.

"I hope you realize that this is suicide," Cherin whispered loudly.

"Be quiet," Zehlyr insisted while ducking under a low branch.

"We're marching right back towards the army," Cherin retorted. "What part of any of this makes it a good idea?"

"If you don't like it then run back to Meadowgold," Zehlyr snapped. "You're being more of a nuisance than a help anyway."

"Lively conversation isn't the best thing for sneaking around," Heeska reminded everyone. A twig snapped under the balisekt's foot, causing everyone to suddenly stand as still as the trees. When only silence filled the air, they continued onward.

The trees thinned considerably at the bottom of the small hill. Even before they came out from under the foliage, their senses were bombarded by the aftermath of the slaughter. The air stank of blood and smoke. There were bodies, too. The fallen corpses of fleeing dwarves lay scattered at the base of the trees, growing more and more numerous as they marched onward. Altogether, it told the chilling story of the sudden battle better than any words could hope to.

The sight made Azalea's stomach turn. These weren't soldiers or warriors. These were merchants and shoppers. These were farmers and miners; innocent men, women, and children, all dead for no reason and she couldn't help but feel that it was all her fault.

The trees and shrubs were especially thin just before they entered the trampled marketplace, forcing them to spread out and each find their own cover, but still remain close enough to communicate in whispers. Azalea crouched down behind a low bush next to Zehlyr and peered out upon the carnage. The dry ground was so saturated with blood that it looked like clay. Dying fires still smoldered in the debris piles.

Azalea had never seen anything so horrible before. She cupped her hands over her mouth as a faint whimper came up from her throat.

"This isn't your fault," Zehlyr said warmly. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. Azalea reached up and put her hand on top of his. Zehlyr knew her so well. She didn't know what she would do without him. It still amazed her how he had sacrificed everything in his life for a complete stranger he'd met in the woods. He could have easily left her and Heeska to Lord Sansehr's wrath and gone back to his home, to his family.