Chapter 104

The Ocelix

The Twin Garde remnants eyed Baroc worryingly. Tar shifted his position so that he could keep the beastman in his field of vision.

“You lads sure we can trust ‘im?” Tar asked.

“He was a prisoner of the rak,” Daegan replied, “just like the rest of us.”

“Why’s he helping us though?” Tar pressed.

“We did free him,” Yaref pointed out.

“Doesn’t look like there’s some much love between his kind and the rak,” Daegan concluded.

“Some of the scouts at Twin Garde claimed to have seen his kind before… although dogman doesn’t seem to be a good description up close,” Puck put in, “never thought I’d ever actually see one myself.”

“Ushtek vin kin?” Daegan said in Old Esterin, directing the question towards Baroc. The creature’s ears twitched and his eyes fell on Daegan, he responded in a low rumble. He and Daegan exchanged a few more words before Daegan turned back to the group.

“His people call themselves the Ocelix,” Daegan revealed, “he seems reluctant to tell me where he actually comes from, but he claims that his people do often travel these forests.”

“Does he know how far he travelled as a captive?” Tanlor asked. Daegan promptly relayed the question.

“He was captured in a place he calls “Shadow Valley,” about two months before they came to Twin Garde. He says that there’s been more rak travelling south with larger war parties.”

“We’d noticed the same,” Yaref replied, “one of the main reasons that there was mutiny at Twin Garde, lot of lads were jumpy about the increasing number of rakmen in the forests.”

“They’ve pushed south before,” Tanlor stated. He was more than a little surprised—angered even—that the higher numbers of rakmen had led to an actual mutiny in Twin Garde. How could the Dukes have allowed it to get that far? Tanlor remembered from his tenure as a bodyguard for the Archduke how many warnings had come from the northern outposts. He didn’t recall Edmund ever doing anything about it, claiming it was Duke Garron or Nordock’s Duke Rivers domain.

Of course Garron and Rivers were staunch rivals and could never agree on anything let alone decide who should maintain the garrisons north of Nortara. It seems that the feud between Garron and Rivers had been going on for more than decade, all the while the outposts dwindled in resources and manpower.

“Where do they come from?” Daegan asked, “the rakmen?”

“The Jolkuvver—the frozen wasteland beyond the mountains—and the Black Sands,” Yaref answered.

“Doesn’t sound very pleasant, no wonder they’re trying to push south,” Daegan noted.

“Shame they kill everyone else they come across,” Tanlor spat. It frustrated him that his own cousin—Boern Garron—was one of the primary reasons the rakmen had managed to get this far.

“Ask him if he knows how many camps the rak have set up in the forest,” Tanlor instructed and Daegan relayed it.

“More than a dozen,” Daegan said after Baroc spoke.

“What was he doing out in the woods to get captured?” Tar posed, again Daegan translated for Baroc.

“He says he was looking for a ferrax,” Daegan replied.

“He was hunting ferrax? On his own?” Tanlor gasped. Ferrax were enormous and ferocious beasts. He couldn’t fathom how Baroc could think to hunt one on his own.

“Vim karesis dun ferrax, solim jut?” Daegan relayed Tanlor’s question. Baroc’s demeanour shifted abruptly. The beastman’s shoulders tensed, the fur rising on his back.

“Karesis?!” Baroc barked his response at Tanlor, rising from his position in an aggressive posture, “Nim karesis dun ferrax! Nim! Nim!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Daegan shouted, his hands raised. The rest of the group were jumping to their feet, hands reaching for sword hilts. Daegan spoke quickly and urgently in Old Esterin, keeping his palms exposed in an appeasing gesture.

Tanlor himself had his fist clenched tight around the hilt of his greatsword, poised for action. He took steady calming breaths to maintain his heart rate.

Daegan and Baroc exchanged words quickly. The beastman growled at them, but his hackles were slowly lowering. His voice still seemed laced with anger.

“I think I may have mistranslated,” Daegan said to the rest of the group apologetically. “You did say hunt, right Tanlor?” Baroc’s yellow eyes watched Tanlor with intensity.

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“I did,” Tanlor answered, nodding. Baroc bared his teeth.

“Hevek vim karesis?!” Baroc bared his teeth as he spoke.

“But you’ve never hunted ferrax before yourself have you?” Daegan said hurriedly, “this is important. It seems his people revere the ferrax. He called them the ‘Guardians of the Forest and Mountains’.”

“No, of course, never,” Tanlor shook his head, keeping his gaze fixed on Baroc.

He had only ever caught a glimpse of one of the creatures once, years ago with his father. He, Rowan and their father had tracked the thing for days. When they did eventually spot it, Taran had gently placed a hand on Tanlor’s bow, indicating he was not to shoot.

Oddly enough, Taran had said the same thing about the creature. The ferrax are the Guardians of the Wood. They are beautiful and honoured creatures and are worthy of our respect. After it had disappeared into the forest, they had returned back to their own camp. At the time Tanlor had found the whole trip strange. Why had they tracked the creature for days to not kill it when they finally found it?

Daegan was using soothing, reassuring gestures, speaking to Baroc for a time until eventually Baroc sat back down. He didn’t seem like he wanted to engage in the conversation any longer but at least he didn’t look like he wanted to attack them anymore.

Common tongue was an evolved language that had its roots in Old Esterin and Tanlor was beginning to pick out words here and there of what Daegan was saying but not nearly enough to follow the conversation. He’d decided he would need to learn some phrases to be able to interact with Baroc—and potentially rakmen—himself. Can’t rely on always having Daegan around.

From there the conversation moved towards the rakmen camps. If Baroc was to be believed there were more than a dozen of them in the surrounding forests. Rowan and the others could’ve been taken to any one of them.

The night wore on. The overcast sky provided no illumination from either moon. The only light came from the flickering flame of the campfire that danced and leaped in a hypnotic display of orange and yellow. The faces of the men around Tanlor were drawn and weary from previous days. From the battle at Twin Garde, to imprisonment, to a hard day of travelling, there was a deep weariness set into each face around the fire.

But they were unified in their goal—or at least most of them were. Ardy was already sleeping next to the warmth of the fire, and Baroc’s eyes were closed not far off.

The odds were not in their favour for the task ahead, each of them agreed on that much at least. And then there was the daunting prospect of having to fight their way through the rakmen camps to free their comrades. Exhausted as they were, it seemed impossible to find them, let alone fight them.

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts and fears. Eventually Tar spoke up. Tanlor hadn’t noticed before how many scars crisscrossed the young man’s face. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty yet he had more scars than a veteran.

“Seems like we need to know more about the camp defences,” Tar said, “we can’t just charge in blindly.”

“No one here’s suggesting that, no?” Yaref replied. The wiry, ageing healer had seemed to elect himself as Puck and Tar’s senior and the pair had accepted that without argument.

“I think Baroc’s the best chance we have at scouting, he knows how to move about the woods far better than any of us,” Daegan suggested.

“He got caught by the rak before,” Tanlor pointed out. He still had a lot of difficulty trusting the beastman—ocelix as he called himself.

Yaref, Puck and Tar had the invaluable experience of being garrisoned at Twin Garde, and had, arguably, more practical background of fighting rakmen than anyone else in Rubane. Both Daegan and Tanlor listened to their suggested strategies and tactics with respect as they discussed what they might do once they found a rak camp.

All of them agreed that any kind of direct assault on a rak camp would be folly—even considering Daegan’s newfound skill to negate runewielders. Their faces were drawn and serious, eyes flicking back and forth to each other as they weighed the risks and benefits of each strategy.

Daegan had a surprising amount of insight, despite having never been in a military campaign before. He was trained young. Tanlor reminded himself. He’s a prince. Before his malady became known they would’ve been grooming the lad for command.

Eventually the group had unanimously decided that the best approach was to use stealth, slipping in undetected and taking key positions, freeing their comrades and then launching a surprise attack.

Puck leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

"We’ll need to move quickly and quietly," he said, his eyes scanning the faces of the group. "The rakmen are cunning and fierce. They’ll have scouts around the camps, we’ll need to deal with those and then act fast." Puck, as a grenadier, would rarely ever have been involved in stealth operations. His skillset was all loud and flashy explosions in an assault.

"After we deal with the scouts,” Daegan picked up, “we'll need to take out their sentries and sabotage their defences." His voice sounded more authoritative than usual. "If we can do that, we'll have a chance. Tanlor, would you be up for that?" Daegan asked.

Tanlor had ample experience in this kind of assault against both men and rak. He knew that Daegan wasn’t questioning his skill,rather his ability after his recent injuries.

“I can handle it,” Tanlor said, “Tar’s a stonebreaker, he and I should take point.

“If I can get close enough to a rak to get a hand on them, I can stop their hearts with bloodstone,” Yaref put in, “I’ve not done a mission like this since I was a young lad though.” Most healers that Tanlor had met were reluctant to use their bloodstone in this way. Yaref himself seemed to have a lot of respect for human life, but that evidently did not extend to rakmen.

“I’ve been on this side of Nortara a long time,” Yaref disclosed, “it’s impossible to not get involved in the fighting sometimes. But I’m not as young as I used to be,” Yaref said with a hint of reluctance.

“Your skills as a healer are far more valuable to our mission than to risk it,” Daegan said, “you should be part of the rescue team, with myself and Puck. While the others—Tanlor, Tar and Baroc—are taking down the sentries, we should be freeing the captives.”

The rest of the group listened intently, nodding in agreement and offering suggestions of their own. They knew the risks they were taking, but they also knew that their comrades' lives were on the line.

As they spoke, the fire crackled and hissed, casting long shadows over their faces. The forest was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, but the men paid them no mind. Their attention was focused entirely on the task at hand. Tanlor kept an ear out for anything that sounded unusual in the surrounding woodland and let the others—primarily Daegan—drive the discussion.

There was something very different about Daegan that concerned Tanlor. He was acting decisively and determined. He seemed the opposite to the terrified, lazy and drunken man he had been, almost three months before in Rubastre.

While Tanlor could appreciate the change in Daegan, he didn’t like the way he kept his hand always on the bloodstone dagger. It was an unknown that Tanlor was distrustful of. But Daegan was right, it was too useful a weapon for the task ahead to ignore.