‘I thought they were legends,’ Sallax said. ‘Fabled monsters that lurked in dark alleys or forests. I never imagined for a moment that they were real.’
‘They are very real, and they are the stuff of legends. There was a time, a dreadful time, long before King Remond’s reign, when Eldarn was overrun with almor. It took the combined efforts of numerous forces to rid the world of them.’ Gilmour sighed. ‘Obviously they weren’t all disposed of. An almor will continue to hunt until it finds its target, and nothing will stop it. Time means nothing to it. We will have to beware every moment of every day until we control the force that brought it here.’
‘What’s that?’ Mark asked.
‘Nerak,’ Gilmour answered, drawing on his pipe.
‘What’s a Nerak?’ Mark was riveted.
‘Right now, that’s not what’s important. I will explain when we have time.’
‘Well, what was that explosion then?’ Sallax was not willing to let the conversation end there.
Gilmour eyed Steven’s cloth pack and, seeing the older man’s interest, Steven handed it over. Reaching inside, Gilmour withdrew a wine skin and a loaf of fresh bread. He took a long swallow from the skin and tore a large chunk from the loaf. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and turned to Sallax.
‘I had to throw the almor off our path. The only way to do that was to dry as much of the damp mud behind us as possible. It will not stop it, but it did cause it to lose track of us for the time being.’
‘Magic,’ Mark whispered to Steven.
‘Oh, nonsense,’ Gilmour chided. ‘Explosions aren’t magic. Anyone can learn explosions. Come now, we must collect Brynne. Daylight will soon be upon us.’ He gestured for Steven and Mark to lead the way.
Despite her fury at having been lashed to a tree all night, Brynne remained calm while Gilmour explained what had happened.
‘Then they were telling the truth?’ she asked in disbelief. ‘They really are from some distant land?’
‘We are,’ Mark said, but once again she refused to look at him, as if he were especially guilty of angering her.
The small group made their way cautiously through the predawn light towards the orchard and their rendezvous with the other partisans. They took cover in the underbrush from time to time to avoid Malakasian patrols. There appeared to be soldiers everywhere, yet in a certain amount of disarray, still confused by the events of the previous day. The failed siege at Riverend Palace, the searches throughout the village and the devastating blast in the neighbourhood near Greentree Square had platoons running back and forth across the area in disorganised chaos.
As they approached the orchard, with its trees lined up neatly like sentries on picket, Gilmour, despite Steven and Mark’s incessant badgering, refused to elaborate further on the almor, his apparent use of magic in creating an explosion, or the sinister force he had called Nerak, promising to explain as well as he could as soon as they were safely out of Estrad.
‘You must trust me,’ the old man told them. ‘I will explain as we go, but right now the most important task we face is getting out of here undetected.’
They found Garec and Versen waiting near a large, crooked tree, with seven horses tethered nearby. Heavy dew coated trees and grass alike and clouds of thick fog blew between the trees like shapeless wraiths hunting for lost souls. Versen waved to the small company while Garec, apparently oblivious to their arrival, aimed carefully into the upper branches. He let an arrow fly and a large red apple tumbled to the ground, pierced cleanly. Garec had retrieved apple and arrow and taken a bite before he realised his friends were on hand.
‘Welcome,’ he said, hurriedly swallowing his mouthful and eyeing Steven and Mark with curiosity. ‘I took the liberty of fetching your horses as well,’ he told Sallax and Gilmour. ‘Brynne, I chose a particularly fiery mare for you. She’s been chasing Renna around Madur’s farm for two days.’
‘That seems appropriate,’ Mark commented under his breath and was rewarded with an angry glare from the Ronan woman.
‘I thought so, too.’ Garec nodded at the two foreigners before adding, ‘This time we meet on better terms, I think.’ He showed the Coloradoans to their mounts.
Steven was given a large brown mare with a white patch around one eye and along both forelegs. He patted her affectionately, then picked up a windfall apple and offered it. The mare plucked it nimbly from his outstretched palm; Steven felt they could be friends. He fixed the cloth pack to her saddle, removed his tweed jacket and tied it fast with a leather thong.
Mark stood watching Steven and waiting for someone to tell him what to do next.
‘What’s the matter?’ Steven asked quietly.
‘I don’t know anything about horses,’ Mark answered. ‘I’ve never even been this close to one before – well, unless you count the pony at the Nassau County Fair.’
‘I don’t,’ Steven laughed. ‘Look, it’s easy. Be nice to him, develop a relationship with him and he’ll take great care of you.’
‘A relationship? I don’t even know how you know he’s a him.’ Mark looked doubtful, but gingerly patted the horse’s neck. ‘Okay, I’ve been nice. Now what?’
‘Now you get on him!’ Steven grinned. ‘It’s honestly not as bad as you think. Just put your foot in this thing – it’s a stirrup, you’ve heard of them, right? – and haul yourself up. You’ve seen enough Westerns; use the reins, use your legs, and make the rest up as you go along.’
He turned to Gilmour and asked, ‘Where are we going?’
‘North,’ the older man replied, and then to everyone added, ‘We mustn’t travel by the Merchants’ Highway; it will be too heavily patrolled.’ He looked about on the ground and found an apple, but instead of feeding it to his horse, bit into it himself. ‘We’ll pass through the Blackstone Mountains into Falkan. From there, it will be up to our new friends which direction we take.’
‘Up to us?’ Steven asked. ‘How will it be up to us?’
Gilmour was suddenly quite serious. ‘Do you have Lessek’s Key?’
‘Key?’ Mark asked, fighting to heft himself onto the horse’s back. ‘What key? What are you talking about? We fell through that cloth rug, landed on the beach and then ran into Garec and Sallax. We don’t know anyone named Lessek – do we, Steven?’ On his third attempt, Mark managed to heave himself into the saddle. He sat there wondering what would happen when the horse started to move.
‘Lessek has been dead for many, many Twinmoons,’ Gilmour replied, ‘but his key is critical. If we don’t retrieve it, we are already partially defeated, perhaps even completely.’
‘Defeated in what, Gilmour?’ Garec asked. ‘You’re not making any sense.’
‘It will make sense, Garec,’ Gilmour said sadly. For the first time, he looked and sounded like an old man. ‘There is much to discuss along the way, but you will need a history lesson before our current plight and mission will come fully into focus. But that’s for later.’ He peered furtively around the orchard before giving the order: ‘All right, let’s go.’
‘What about Mika and Jerond?’ Versen interjected. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for them? Although no one had commented on their absence, the partisans were all thinking the same thing: Mika and Jerond were late, and that could mean they had been captured, or even killed.
‘We need to get moving,’ Gilmour repeated. ‘Mika and Jerond will catch up. They know we’re going north, and it’s many days’ ride to Falkan.’
‘What are our options once we reach Falkan?’ Garec asked, climbing easily onto Renna’s back. He scratched the mare affectionately between her ears. ‘You said it was up to Mark Jenkins and Steven Taylor. That must mean there are multiple options.’
Steven reached out and tapped Garec’s arm. ‘It’s just Mark and Steven. That’s all. Not “Mark Jenkins and Steven Taylor”. It looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so let’s drop the formality, shall we?’
Garec shrugged, unconcerned, before turning back to Gilmour. ‘Without Lessek’s Key, we have only one option.’