Into Forbidden Lands
Thel Drus

With Tanner in the lead, they reached a place along the Inghel Drus where a crossing was possible. The entire party had no trouble wading through the waist-deep water to the opposite bank.

Argolan gave Tanner some supplies, including a bow and a dozen arrows. Malco instructed him on how to tip and fletch new ones and without a backward glance the man went on his way.

The cliff path they followed continued to meander alongside the Inghel Drus, allowing the travellers easy access to water. They soon glimpsed the Meresian town that Tanner had cautioned them about. It spread across the northern bank, where the Inghel met the Thel Drus.

Unwilling to draw attention to themselves the party veered away from the riverbank, intending to meet the Thel Drus further downstream.

They reached it by sunset and camped the night within a stone’s throw of the giant river. They awoke in the morning to a heavy mist that hid all view of the opposite bank.

Travelling south for two more days they reached a village that had to be Aspelant: a cluster of hovels, partly hidden by squat leafy trees in the sweep of a sandy cove. They would have missed it entirely had it not been for the sound of a hammer striking an anvil.

“And this is the greater of the two villages?” Scald sneered. “Makes one wonder what Coldspree is like.”

Illiom was aware that they were being watched as they made their way past the row of houses, but no one emerged to greet or challenge them.

They headed towards the farrier’s workshop, the source of the intermittent hammering.

“Wha’ ya want?” spat a large man, blackened with soot, his barrel chest covered with nothing but a heavy apron. He was pushing a barrow loaded with coal towards his kiln, not pausing to hear their reply. A younger man, thickset and drenched in sweat, hammered away at a red-hot piece of iron.

“We want to hire some boats,” Malco said.

“No boats ’ere,” the man replied, his voice almost drowned out by the racket he was making as he emptied the coal out of his barrow. “Ye’ll ’ave to go elsewhere.”

Scald dismounted to confront the man.

“Scald,” Azulya warned softly.

The blacksmith glared at Scald.

“This is a fishing village, yes?” remarked Scald, ignoring Azulya. “With no boats?”

“Was a fishin’ village. Only fishin’ done these days is from the jetty or the bank. An’ even then there’s no catch to brag about.”

“But surely you still have some boats, even if you do not use them anymore.”

“Maybe.”

Scald grinned.

“Does gold hold any interest for you?” he asked casually.

The man shrugged.

“S’pose,” he conceded reluctantly.

The scarred Chosen held up a gold coin.

“Is anyone else in this village interested in gold?”

The man licked his lips, but made no answer.

“We will pay for passage across the river, or are willing to buy your boats with gold. Tell us who can help us and this gold piece is yours. Easiest gold you will ever make.”

“Cedral,” replied the man immediately, his gaze fixed on the coin. “He was our boat builder. Four houses down.”

“Easy, was it not?” Scald said, and flicked the coin into a barrel of water nearby.

Cedral could easily have been the farrier’s twin brother, identical in build as well as attitude. Sereth took the lead this time.

“Are you the boat builder?”

“Aye, was. No more call fer boats these days.”

“We want passage across the Thel Drus. Can you help?”

The man frowned in response.

“Yer wan’ ta cross the reeva?”

Sereth eyed the great stretch of water beyond the house and sighed.

“Yes, we want to cross the river.”

The man stared, taking in the entire party, then began to laugh.

“Mind sharing the joke so we can laugh along with you?” asked Scald scathingly.

The man’s mirth was replaced by an expression of regret.

“Don’ take no one cross the Thel no more. In fact, ye’ll get no one in their right mind to take ye.”

“What’s going on?” demanded a woman’s voice from behind him. “Who are these folks? What do they want with us?”

Illiom turned to see a wiry woman standing in the entrance of the run-down house, a small child in her arms. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Let me deal wi’ this, Marve,” Cedral answered. “How many of yers want to cross?”

“All of us,” Sereth answered.

“And thirty horses,” added Scald.

The man gaped at Scald, shaking his head, and then puffed up his cheeks before expelling a lungful of air.

“Ain’t possible,” he said with a finality that made Illiom’s heart sink. “Be hard enough to get just yer folks across and ye’ll be needing three, maybe even four boats, just fer that, and I’ve only got two. Anyway, yer can’t take horses in fishing boats. They’re too big, yer see? Ye can’t keep ‘em still. They’ll overturn the boats and then ye’ll all be drowned dead. What yer could use is a barge and ye ain’t gonna find one down this end o’ the river. Ye can try yer luck with them Meresian scum, up past the Inghel, if yer like. But more like than not, they’ll jus’ take yer gold and kill the lot of yer.”

The Chosen exchanged glances.

Malco shook his head.

“Looks like we have a problem…”

“’Sides, what yer wanna cross the reeva fer? Yer won’t find nothin’ there but an early grave.”

“How many of these do you want for your boats?” Malco asked, holding up a golden Eagle.

The man eyed the coin greedily.

“Er, let me see,” he said, hesitantly. “I ain’t gonna get them boats back, so yer can’t be hiring ’em. Ye’ll have ter buy ’em outright, like … so I reckon maybe thirty…”

“Fifty gold, fer each!” the woman called out.

“A hundred gold for two rotting logs?” ridiculed Scald. “Are you out of your mind?” He turned to Argolan. “Do we even have that much?”

“Wants to see the rest too,” Marve demanded.

“The rest are just like this one,” Scald spat, pointing at Malco’s coin. “Do you want to sell your boats or do you want to starve?”

“Wait, Scald,” Azulya said, stepping up to rest a placating hand on his arm. “We need to talk about this.”

“Anywhere we can get more boats?” Malco asked Cedral.

“Maybe down at Coldspree,” the boat builder answered. “But they’ll be a lot smaller. I’ve got the biggest boats in these parts.”

“Azulya is right,” the Shieldarm spoke quietly. “It is getting late. We should set up camp somewhere and discuss this, then come back in the morning.”

Malco conveyed their decision to Cedral and the party set about finding a suitable place to spend the night.

They discussed their situation as they sat by the fire.

Azulya summarised. “If what Cedral said is true, then we seem to have three options. We undertake the crossing, leaving the horses behind; we travel down to Coldspree but will still need to abandon the horses; or we go back upstream to the town we skirted and see if we can find more suitable transport.”

Scald shook his head.

“I do not think it wise to go anywhere near Mereas.”

“And I do not want to abandon Black Lightning,” said Illiom. The others agreed, feeling the same way about their steeds.

“There are too many of us,” Scald concluded. “Perhaps it is time for our original party to go it alone, and leave the Shakim and the horses behind.”

“Except that now there are only fifteen of us,” Elan offered. “What with Angar mending his broken leg in Stonecress, and Mist…”

Her voice faltered, unable to continue past the mention of her lover’s name.

“I will come,” said Z’essh. “One more Shakim and that will make you seventeen again.”

“He has a point,” said Azulya. “Maybe this is the course we need to follow.”

Together, the Chosen and Argolan pored over Faer’s map by the campfire.

“We are in fact closer to our destination than I thought,” mused Illiom. “Look, this is where the Inghel spills into the Thel. So we must be around about here.”

She pointed at where she imagined Aspelant to be.

“Near enough,” Scald agreed.

“What on west side?” asked Undina.

“Of the river?” Elan asked. “Must be that Werewood that Maest spoke about.”

“According to him, the Werewood is also on this side of the river, just further south,” Illiom said.

“Wherever we get our boats from,” Sereth piped in, “we can go quite a way downstream. Look, the river goes pretty much west until it veers away and heads south towards the sea, but back up here – before it changes course - there is this smaller tributary that flows down from these mountains in the north-west.”

“More north than west,” objected Scald.

“Yes, but if we manage to get into that tributary, we can go even further west before we disembark.”

Scald frowned.

“You do not know much about going against the current, do you?”

“Actually, I have been doing it all my life,” the other replied, “so I may be even more competent than you.”

Scald raised an eyebrow, but after a moment he chuckled.

“In any case, we are ahead of schedule,” Azulya said. “If Sudra’s Orb is where that symbol appears on Draca Sconder’s map, then we still have seven moons to reach it. Since crossing into the Forbidden Lands we have covered more than half the distance to our destination in how long?”

“Slightly over three moons,” Sereth replied.

Azulya smiled.

“So how do we feel about going north into Mereas territory to see if we can find a larger boat to get us all across, including the horses?” Malco asked.

“I do not like that idea at all,” Illiom admitted.

“We could be walking into more trouble than we can handle,” Scald mused.

“I agree.” Argolan joined the discussion. “We should investigate the next village. I don’t really trust Cedral’s word that there are no larger boats to be had.”

Pell was preparing breakfast when Grifor broke into the camp at breakneck speed.

“Argolan! Where is Argolan?”

“Here,” replied the Shieldarm, stepping out from behind her horse. “What is it?”

The Rider was panting heavily.

“A large force, heading south. Half an hour.”

“Krodh be cursed! Riders, we leave now!” Argolan instructed, seizing Grifor’s arm. “How many?” she questioned.

“I did not wait to see the whole group, but many hundreds!”

The Shieldarm turned to the Chosen.

“Choice is a luxury no longer ours,” she said. “The north is blocked, the south is unknown. Cedral has two boats we can use.”

Illiom was suddenly overwhelmed by panic.

“Two boats not enough…” started Undina.

“No time to discuss, Undina! We must leave. Now!”

The Shieldarm turned and ran.

Illiom sought Tarmel and found him almost immediately. Their gaze locked and, although she saw apprehension in his eyes, she calmed instantly.

She was not going anywhere without him.

It was as simple as that.

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