Whispering Woods

CHAPTER 20

A sharp peck awoke Gull.

He pried open salt-crusty dirt-mucky eyes to find a sea gull backing away, wings flapping. Beady black eyes snapped, the yellow bill clacked a squawk. The bird had tested if he was dead. Indignant, it flew off.

An omen if there ever was one, the woodcutter thought. He hadn't expected to be awakened by his namesake. Not this side of the heavens.

Sun was hot on his face. His head throbbed because he lay upside down on the slope. Prying free of the mud, for he was sunk a foot, he took stock. Bruised, scratched, gouged, he was barefoot, tangle-haired, empty-handed. He'd even lost his leather kilt, had only his leather tunic hanging to mid-thigh.

But considering he should be dead, he had no complaints.

Rubbing crusted eyes with filthy hands, he peered around.

He wasn't far from their cave, only fifty feet above the surf, which tussled and nuzzled the shore gently, as if the tidal wave had never been. Sunlight sparkling on waves made him squint. Sea gulls perched on the monolith lodged at the shoreline. The black stone absorbed heat, kept them warm. It's serving a useful purpose at last, the woodcutter thought groggily.

He wondered where Greensleeves was, surprised to miss the familiar jolt of panic. He'd lost his emotions somewhere. For now, he just existed, hungry and thirsty, like the sea gull that woke him.

He turned, faced the trough and bluff. Things looked different, for rough edges had been smoothed, large boulders plucked away. Their cave hideout was only a scratch. Gull thought of ants in a hill suddenly pissed on. Gods and nature did as they pleased, and people and animals lived or died, helpless.

Gull staggered up the slope toward a soggy brown and white lump. Stiggur, reborn like a potato dug up. The boy gasped and flexed, and mud crackled off.

Leaving him to peer about, he found a blob higher up. His sister, encased in mud. He chipped dirt from her face, nudged her. She murmured sleepily, as always, then woke up fast, like a cat. "Wh-what…?"

Gull cast up and down the smooth mud slope. No one else.

The three limped down to the ocean, and squatting in the lapping waves, swabbed off mud. The salt tang aggravated their burning thirst.

When he arose, Gull saw Kem.

The ex-bodyguard lay facedown in a rock pool. The woodcutter waded out, brushed off crabs, hauled Kem's carcass above the tide line, laid him facedown so gulls wouldn't pick out his eyes. He told the dead man, "I'll return and bury you. I owe you that, at least."

Gull gazed at the blue vastness. Morven would be out there, under the water. The sea had reclaimed him. "Come," he told the survivors. "We'll see what's left up top."

Not a lot, it turned out.

The top of the bluff was swept clean. All signs of bramble walls and stone spears and walls of wood were gone, even the red earth under them. Crashing onto the shore, the tidal wave had sucked most everything seaward in its retreat.

But not everything.

Lying on the grass, as if dropped by a child, lay the pink stone mana vault. Greensleeves idly picked it up.

They walked inland.

Battered salt-poisoned grass stretched half a mile to a forest of beech and oak, the final barrier to the impossible tidal wave.

Now and then they passed dead barbarians. Their blue berry dye and clothes had been sucked off, so they lay scattered, tanned and tattooed, like children playing a game of statues. But none moved, and flies crawled on faces. Gull wondered if they'd died cursing Towser, the man who'd enslaved them.

Trees had lost leaves in the mad wave, but in some weird exchange, had been festooned with sea wrack. Kelp dangled from oaks. Driftwood had returned to the forest dragging beds of seaweed. A dying starfish clung to a beech tree as if a wharf piling. A codfish gasped in a nest of leaves. Sand glittered everywhere.

From a hollow jutted four pilings like a storm-tossed pier. But these pilings were jointed. Stiggur ran shouting, circled, found the clockwork beast's head half-buried in broken branches. With the energy of youth, he began to dig.

Shifting the mana vault, Greensleeves pointed into the forest. What looked like a white whale in a tree proved to be Liko's rump. Sail smock in shreds, the giant was fetched up in a forked oak twenty feet above the ground. Gull guessed he'd been climbing when the wave caught him. He was just too big to wash away. Too high to reach, Gull peered close, saw a toe large as a bushel basket twitch. They left the giant to wake on his own.

Traveling along the forest's edge, both stopped in shock. Greensleeves's knees gave out, and she sank, mewling like a lost kitten.

At the devastation she had caused.

Towser's entourage was spilled amidst trees like a shattered bird's nest.

For the first time that morning, Gull felt a spark in his breast. Surveying the wreckage, he breathed, "Lily…"

In her yellow clothes, Jonquil lay on the sward as if napping. A frown creased her coarse farm girl's face. She had no pulse, sleeping forever.

Stepping over Jonquil, they counted four wagons. Towser's, the heaviest, lay on its roof against an oak bole, one side splintered, four wheels smashed to pointed stars. The women's wagon had broken its back against a lichened boulder. The astrologer's wagon lay flat upside down, the hoops for the canvas roof crushed. The cook wagon had split, spilling ironware and soggy foodstuffs.

Horses and mules, left in the traces, were equally smashed and broken. Two of the horses, broken-backed, were still alive. Knothead and Flossy, Gull's mules, were dead, tangled in harness, wrapped around a tree. Gull stared a while, pronounced their epitaphs. "Flossy was sweet. Knothead was stubborn and cranky, but a good puller."

Searching, almost idly, for this new disaster was mind-numbing, Gull bumped a wine jug that sloshed invitingly. He hunted up a grill spike and chipped out the cork. He and his sister drank the sweet wine greedily, saved some for Stiggur.

Gull spiked the throats of the wounded horses.

Then counted the dead.

Felda, the fat cook, was wedged under her wagon, pierced by a broken wheel spoke. The bard, Ranon Spiritsinger, was nearby, horribly twisted, one arm rammed through her lyre strings. Rose and Peachblossom were dead inside the women's wagon, where they'd sought refuge. Under the astrologer's wagon, blue-clad legs marked Bluebonnet. There were no traces of the nurse, Haley, or the astrologer, Kakulina. Gull figured they had washed away, could be anywhere from deeper in the forest to deep in the ocean.

He tried to summon sorrow for these folks. He'd known them, eaten with them, talked of small things. But in the end they'd betrayed him, guarding their soft positions in the wizard's employ. They'd hunkered over a cooking fire and ignored a human sacrifice carried out by their master two hundred feet away. Ultimately, their master had failed to protect them.

Gull peered inside Towser's overturned wagon, all ajumble. Tangled blankets had fallen from the ornate bed, books and artifacts had rained from niches in the walls.

No trace of the three bodyguards, who would have stayed near Towser.

And, of course, Gull thought bitterly, no Towser. He might have been killed, but the woodcutter doubted it. A wizard protected himself first and foremost.

And, finally, no Lily.

Then he heard a sigh.

The noise issued from under the collapsed bed.

Praying, pleading, Gull yanked aside salt-sopping blankets and tapestries.

His prayers were answered. It was Lily.

She lay on the upside-down roof, only an arm and her head showing. Face pale as her sundered clothes, she struggled to free herself.

"Lily! I was so worried!" He grabbed her arm to tug, but she shrieked.

"My arm!" Sweaty and cold, her body and voice shivered. "It's broken! I felt the bones grind together!"

Gull mopped his face, squatted to see inside the dark wagon. Up front, amidst smashed luggage and supplies, lay Knoton, the clerk. The woodcutter wondered how, with all these dead, Lily had survived.

Then he remembered. She too was a wizard.

"Don't fret, honey, I'll get you out! Lie still!" Greensleeves set down her mana vault and helped. Gently, tugging and winkling, they slid the dancing girl out, learned one leg was also broken. Lily hissed in agony, yet gasped they should search for green bottles in the red-lacquered case. Greensleeves poked in the wagon while Gull comforted the dancing girl.

"I thought I'd lost you." Gull cradled her head on his lap, smoothed her tousled hair. "I thought I'd lost you. I realized I didn't want to lose you. I want you with me forever. I want you to be my wife. I love you, Lily."

Grimacing, crying, smiling at the same time, the girl pressed a finger on his lips. "Hush, Gull, please. Things aren't the-oh!-same all of a sudden."

"What?" Gull frowned, wiped his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly… It's just… How shall I explain-ah, it hurts! I-I never liked myself, Gull. I always thought I was unworthy, born of a whore, never knowing my father, a whore myself-"

"I don't care about that-"

"Hush. I know. You're a wonderful man, kind and loving. But things are different. Suddenly I'm a wizard. I don't know what that means."

"You don't have to be a wizard."

She smiled, winced with pain. Behind them, Greensleeves bustled, shifted boxes. "And a bird with wings needn't fly? Gull, when that giant wave hit us, I scrunched down and prayed not to die. And something-some tingling power-enwrapped me like a mother's arms. And I didn't die. Though I-ow ow ow-didn't protect myself that well. Still… oh, I love you so, but I can't marry you just yet. Do you see why?"

"No." He sounded petulant.

She sighed a feminine sigh, and suddenly Gull felt like a boy addressing a woman. "I need time. To think."

"You'll adopt wizardry, then." He was bitter. "And leave us mortals in the dust."

She shook her head, grunted as her arm moved. "No. I'll leave Lily in the dust, and find who I really am."

It was Gull's turn to sigh. "And that's not my wife? Ah, well. I shouldn't have let you dangle all this time. I should have reeled you in when I hooked you."

She chuckled, put a finger to her lips and kissed it, laid it against his lips. He smiled down at her.

Greensleeves crawled backward out of the wagon. Skirts more mud-stained and tattered than ever, she looked like a six-year-old making mud pies. But beholding the two lovers, her gaze became a woman's calculation. She offered an unstoppered beaker. "P-poppy seed e-extract and feverfew, I th-think. 'Twill e-ease the pain."

Lily nodded, drank the whole beaker. Before long, she nodded off and snored gently.

Greensleeves rummaged, found some slats, used scissors to cut a blanket. She handed them all to Gull. "Wh-while she sl-sleeps, you must s-set-s-set-"

"I know," said her brother. Strongest of the family, he'd been the one to set broken bones. "I'll tend her."

Late that afternoon, Lily lay in the shade of a chestnut tree while Gull and Greensleeves toted food and supplies.

Salvaging the wrecks, including Gull's woodcutting tools, they camped a half mile from the wagons. They couldn't bury the bodies today, so needed to move off before nightfall brought wolves and coyotes and raccoons. And ghosts.

As Gull arranged rocks for a firepit and Greensleeves aired blankets, Liko joined them. They'd heard a tremendous crash when he awoke and tumbled from the treetop. The earth shook as he staggered up, leaning to the one-armed side, sail clothing trailing in rags. Saying not a word, he flopped on his back, dozed off again. The humans had to talk above his dual snores.

Once the fire sent up smoke, thick gray because the branches were damp, a duo of voices hallooed. Helki and Holleb the centaurs trotted up, their shiny finery clattering, unaccustomed grins on their grim faces. Gull was so pleased to see them alive, he hugged each one, lifted clean off his feet by the forbidding Holleb. Everyone talked at once, including Greensleeves, and it was some while before the stories became clear.

But simple enough. From their greater height, the centaurs saw the water recede, and having lived near the sea, knew what it meant. They'd galloped inland, raced into the forest fast enough to burst their hearts. Seawater had lapped at their heels, but they'd topped a ridge and escaped harm.

"So we celebrate victory!" growled Holleb in his harsh accent.

Gull shook his head. "There's no victory, not with Towser escaping, not with all these dead. We survived, is all."

"We see. Is true," said Helki. "But where are others? Your friends who help you?"

Gull nodded down the tree line. "Stiggur has been digging and prying all day, trying to reach the controls for the clockwork beast, to see if it still works. Or is still alive. As for the others, there aren't any."

The centaurs looked around, saw only Lily, Liko, and Greensleeves. Helki said, "Oh."

By sundown, Gull had a meal together. He'd rescued an iron pot and unbroached cask of salt pork, put it on to boil. He'd found some flour, salted it, twined the dough in strips around green sticks to roast. They'd found several barrels of beer in the women's wagon, and crocks of Felda's pickles.

There was also plenty to feed the giant. Liko sat cross-legged and gobbled raw horseflesh while the centaurs nibbled from Towser's silver plates and tried not to watch. Greensleeves used twist bread to sop gravy. Gull fed Lily with clumsy fingers. She used her good arm to sip brandy for pain. Her other hung in a sling. Stiggur wolfed pickles and sniffed, remembering Felda's kindness.

After a night and day of privation, heartache, struggle, and sadness, it was a feast, though a quiet one. Everyone felt the absence of friends.

When people were sated, had fathomed one beer cask, Gull leaned back on his elbows, stared at the dancing campfire. "So what's-Hey!"

The woodcutter snapped down his flagon, hopped around the stack of supplies. Stabbing into darkness, he grabbed something that squealed, hoisted up the goblin thief, Egg Sucker. "What are you doing here? I threw you off the cliff!"

"Aye! And near broke me head!" Dangling again, the little pest rubbed his skunk-striped hair. "But you can let go, kind sir! I wasn't stealin'! I only saw a rat digging at your sacks, and-"

"Oh, hush up. Don't give me any stories. I should have let the elves feather you with arrows. Come here."

Back in the firelit circle, he propped the goblin on his feet, handed him his beer mug. Confused by kindness, Egg Sucker could only clutch it like a cask in his small crooked hands. Gull gave him a hank of salt pork, which the goblin tore into. But as soon as Gull sat down, he dashed into the night as if beset by dogs.

Gull sighed, reached for his mug, remembered it was gone. "Well, never mind. Where was I…? Ah. So, what do we do tomorrow? After burying the dead, that is."

"We need get my clockwork beast upright. I tugged a lever and his leg kicked." Stiggur mumbled around a mouthful of bread, added suddenly, "I'll name him Knothead, if that's all right with you."

"It's fine," Gull chuckled. "If he has a name, he must be alive."

"We must find town," said Holleb. "Not much food here."

"Aye," Gull agreed. "There's somewhat else, too. Greensleeves or Lily, someone with magic, should figure how to conjure, or summon, or whatever you call it, to fetch Tomas and Neith and Varrius and that paladin Bardo, and even those miserable orcs, off that tropical island. They deserve a chance to walk home, if they can find it." The women agreed.

"Home," sighed Helki. "Holleb and I need learn where is so can go there. Have been away long time… We miss it."

Greensleeves arose, walked over, laid her small callused hand on Helki's shoulder. "D-don't be s-sad, Hel-ki. We'll f-find your h-home. Y-you too, Li-ko." The giant nodded both somber heads. "M-maybe some of T-T-Towser's booty will h-help us." Probing the wagon, they'd found many bottles and artifacts smashed, but still acquired a stack of magical-seeming books and whatnots to study.

"Greenie's right. We'll see you all get home…" Gull was quiet a while, then murmured, "We lost our home… A whole village wiped out… in a quarrel between two wizards out to steal each other's power. They didn't care who they stepped on, as if we were ants on their battlefield… That's what we should do! We should stop all wizards from running roughshod over common folk!"

His voice had grown more animated, yet taken a hard edge.

Helki looked puzzled, as did the rest. "How?"

"I don't know." The woodcutter stared at the fire. "But there must be a way to halt them. If you could- assemble an army, and keep it together-a volunteer fighting force, not slaves-we could track these wizards down, somehow, then scatter their makeshift armies and make them submit. Then if you could, what? take away their power…? I don't know. But there must be a way…"

Greensleeves had been toying with the pink stone box, which glinted in the firelight. Now she stopped. "I'll h-help, Gull."

Lily put her free hand on Gull's. "And I."

"And us!" shouted Holleb, as if accepting a challenge to a duel.

"Aye! Us too!" screamed Helki. The two sent a rollicking whinny war cry to the heavens.

When the echoes died, Liko's two heads spoke in unison for the first time. "Me too."

"Can I help?" asked Stiggur. "I can bring Knothead!"

Gull tousled the boy's hair so hard he fell over. "Of course, Stiggur. And bring your whip. We'll need that too."

Lily nodded toward the darkness. "What about Egg Sucker?"

Gull laughed. "Oh, aye. We'll need him for-something. But I wasn't proposing we form an army to stop wizards."

"Yes, you were," replied Lily. "It's something we've all wished, but couldn't voice."

Gull looked around the tiny battered group. "How odd. We were just a handful of strangers, each brought to grief because of wizards' greed. Now we're-an army, I guess. Wizards and warriors and-and clockwork beast riders and-woodcutters…"

A knot popped in the campfire, and sparks crackled into the air. Gull watched them climb to join the stars that swept from horizon to horizon. "My father used to say the sky was never so clear as after a storm."

"So our future is bright," said Lily.

"I suppose. But are you all sure you want to do this? Dedicate yourselves to an army-a crusade-with no clue how to proceed? Battle wizards and thugs and fiends and hellions, risk life and limb, just to stop them razing villages and mucking up folks' lives, folks you've never even met? When you could instead just go home?"

He looked around again, searching each face, but everyone just nodded.

He reached out his toe, jiggled the fire brighter.

"Well, then. That's what we'll do."