Aftermath of the Ambush in the Delta
The night after the battle with the Iron Claw patrol was a busy one. With the help of Raven’s people, led by a warrior named Red Snake, the bodies were dragged off to the far side of the islet and dumped into the murky waters, an offering to whatever carnivores might inhabit them tonight.
A large portion of the Golana Rethmani left then, taking the sole surviving Darikazi soldier with them, to what fate Mariala didn’t care to think about. They had learned what they needed from the man – that the Darikazi had been led by a cantor of Korön who had fallen out with the military leader of the troop send to track the “interlopers.” While the majority had continued on to the ruins of Vindar, Cantor Ejesu had led his small band south, certain they were seeking some lost mage’s redoubt.
A handful of the tribesmen remained behind, including Raven. They helped the group move their campsite away from the scene of the battle, the better to avoid any predators attracted by the blood. They also provided food to add to the interrupted supper Drake had been preparing, and 12 people sat down around the fire to enjoy the meal.
Most of the Golana spoke an intelligible enough, if strangely accented, version of Yashparic that communication was easy. Indeed, during the meal both Drake and Vulk made them laugh several times, and themselves had no trouble understanding the bawdy tales told by their guests.
Devrik and Raven sat close to one another, sharing his mess kit, at the far edge of the campfire. She had witnessed Devrik and his flaming battle-sword as he slew the evil cantor of Korön. Already impressed by his earlier dispatch of the charging aurochs bull with a single blow, her attraction to the muscular fighter was obvious. It came as no surprise to anyone when the two of them slipped off into the dark after the meal towards Devrik’s tent (which he had set up rather farther from the others than he usually did, Vulk noted to Drake). After a few crude comments and whistles from the tribal warriors, the conversation turned suddenly serious.
“You are foolish to go to the haunted isle,” Red Snake said to Vulk, frowning. “Over the years, many have gone in, but few have ever returned. For a time, it was considered by the young men to be a sign of bravery to dare a night on the island… but we lost so many that the wise women have made it a taboo place.”
“Not that it stops all hot-heads,” added one of the other warriors, an older man. “A few still skirt the edges of the forbidden area, risking banishment to prove their courage and skill… they are occasionally also lost.”
“Yes,” agreed Red Snake. “She feels it is bad luck to speak of it, but Raven’s older brother, Black Hawk, disappeared so, three summers past… I myself, when younger and foolish in my pride, came within sight of the cursed island. What I saw… the trees were green with leaves, though it was winter; an otter the size of a wolf; and most horrible, marsh spiders larger than my head. I am not ashamed to say I was glad the place is taboo, and I could turn back without dishonor.”
A grim silence settled over the group.
“You are not of the Rethmani,” Red Snake continued, “so it is not for us to forbid you; but you are brave and skilled fighters, and you aided one of us at some risk to yourselves. I would not see you die for a fools quest.”
“It is a fool’s quest,” Vulk agreed. “But it is our friends that have been lured into it, by one who wants to take the power on the island for his own; he is either a fool himself, who doesn’t understand the danger, or he lied to our friends. Either way, we must try to save them and stop Ardath from meddling with this deadly power… even if he fails to seize it, he may cause it to spread beyond the confines of the island.”
The tribesmen shuddered at this prospect, and although it was obvious they held little hope for their success, they murmured to one another in solemn acknowledgement of the burdens of loyalty and friendship.
“Very well,” Red Snake said at last. “If this is your jhehara, then so be it. We will lead you to the sorceress’s island in the morning.”
With that the party broke up, and everyone turned in for the night. The Golana insisted on taking the night’s watches, to leave the group as rested as possible for whatever lay ahead tomorrow. The companions gladly agreed.
At dawn they broke camp. Drake nudged Mariala as they worked on folding her tent, nodding to where Devrik and Raven stood beneath a tree at the edge of the clearing, apparently arguing hotly. “Maybe he’s not as good in the lists as his… sword work… might imply,” he smirked after watching the heated exchange for a few minutes.
“I doubt that was the problem,” Mariala replied with a sardonic smile, looking over his shoulder. Drake turned to see the two now locked in a passionate embrace. He shrugged and gave a laugh as he tugged the last strap on the tent-roll tight.
The boats were soon loaded, and after a quick, cold breakfast, they were pushing away from the shore, led by the Golana in their small coracles. Raven traveled in the boat with Devrik, her own coracle towed easily behind.
As they wound through the maze-like channels of the marsh it grew steadily more humid and mist-shrouded, and it was less than two hours past dawn when they emerged into a large lake amidst an even larger island. In the center of the lake lay Baylora’s Island, a jungle of dense foliage down to the shoreline; but what caught and held their attention was a massive oak tree that towered over the other trees, apparently at the center of the island.
“By the Lady’s luck,” whispered Vulk, “that thing must be 200 feet high!”
“We have come further than we should already,” Red Snake said quietly, paddling up beside the boats. “Come Raven, it is time to go.”
Reluctantly, with a last kiss for Devrik, Raven slid smoothly into her coracle. “Goodbye my friends,” she said sadly, “I shall pray for your safe return!” She spoke to the group, but her eyes were solely on Devrik.
With quiet, quick good-byes the Golana Rethmani turned and paddled swiftly back up the channel to the relative safety of the mundane marshlands. The group turned back to the mysterious island ahead, and began to move slowly toward it.
Power throbbed in the air, and played on the nerves of Mariala, Devrik and Vulk… even Drake seemed to feel the oppressive hush that blanketed them. Only Marik seemed oblivious to the uncanny energies they were gliding into…
As they neared the shore they could see, shrouded in slowly swirling mists, the foundations of a ruined tower at the water’s edge, and a stone dock crumbling into the murk at its foot. The hulks of three partially sunk boats could be seen in the water near the dock, and one seemingly undamaged boat, dragged half ashore.
As the Golana had claimed, the trees on the island seemed larger and more robust, the vegetation thicker and more lush than they’d seen elsewhere in the Delta, with great twisting vines twining through everything. Spring, barely begun in the outside world, seemed greatly advanced on the island…