Flash Fiction # 350 -- Connor of Northgate/34

Connor awoke at dawn to the sound of something rustling in the grass nearby, but when he sat up, whatever it had been darted away in haste.  Nothing large, at least.

Connor ached from having hunched over to sleep and barely managed not to moan as he slowly stood.  If something watched him, he didn't want to sound weak.

He breakfasted on dried berries and water from the pack.  He tried not to think about home just then. Friends had died.  Nothing would be the same at Northgate.

The realization hit him harder than he had expected.  He walked with his head bowed and not paying enough attention and only looked up again when he came to a stream that had been hidden in the stands of grass. 

Connor hadn't expected anything so wide and deep and hadn't even noticed the scraggly line of trees that marked the course.

A bridge sat not far down the steam.  It looked like a  steady bridge of solid rock --

As Connor neared, a gnarled, dirt brown face looked out from under the edge.

They both yelped.

"Human!" the creature shouted, and Connor heard the bustle of others in the shadow of the bridge.  "Human here!"

Gnome. Connor had only met only two at Northgate, and while they could be fierce in a battle, they weren't usually a problem.  Connor gave a very proper bow.

"I'm following after my friends, trying to catch up with them," Connor said softly.

"And which are your friends?"

Smart Gnome.

"The ones who are hunted," he admitted.  "And the villagers who didn't give me to the enemy."
The face peered intently, lips pursed as he considered the answer.  Gnomes weren't given to taking sides; they usually only fought out of necessity.  This one considered things at great depth while Connor watched nervously for trouble.

"It's evil what they did to the centaurs.  Go.  Save them."

Connor had no idea what the gnome meant, except that magic must be used to keep the centaurs under control. That might be evil enough.

He crossed the bridge and kept going, aware of the chatter of Gnomes behind him. He glanced back and saw only one gnome face watching him, and nothing following after.

Connor hadn't expected to start catching up with the others, but he soon realized that for whatever reason, Galen had taken the entire village with him and those people were slowing him down. In another two hours, he began to hear them -- and realized he was far too close.  He fell back, stopping by the side of the trail and trying to decide what he should do next.

The night was coming.  Connor knew he would do better to hold back and wait for darkness before he got closer.  He very carefully moved off the trail by a half dozen steps, breaking as few of the stalks as possible.  There he sat down and bowed his head, weary now that he let himself rest.

He was getting too used to resting out in the open, alone in a hostile world.  Connor had no doubt dangerous 'things' were out there not far away.  Just because he had chanced to get away from Ordin and Galen didn't mean he was safe from the rest of the world.

Connor slept in snatches which seemed worse than no sleep at all.  The sudden surge from sleep to wake so often gave him a headache, and he despaired of ever seeing the shadows change and nightfall.

He finally slept for a little longer.  When he came awake, twilight had spread around him, the shadows nearly disappearing in the coming dark.  He stretched a little and slowly stood, trying to listen for any sound of something too near.

Nothing.  Even the sound of those he had followed was lost, though Connor thought he could see a light farther down the trail and maybe to the right.  He suspected the trail twisted there, but he would have to be careful.  Galen and Ordin would put out guards or at least magic to make certain no one came upon them.

Connor went down the trail as far as he dared, listening to the sounds of the camp that were almost clear enough to tell what people said.  Then he again moved carefully into the weeds until he found a path made by animals, though smaller than him.  It provided a little room for him to move and draw less attention.  He even slid along on his side part of the way, pushing his pack ahead of him.

Then he unexpectedly came to a larger, open area; a bubble with the tops of grass above him, and full plants on all sides, but enough room to sit up.  He also found Antisha there, turning with a start and then offering him a bright smile as she waved him forward.

"You are alive!" she said and slapped him on the shoulder, her voice a whisper that couldn't be heard above the nearby sounds.  "We couldn't be certain, you know."

"What are you doing here?  Where are the others?"

"I sent everyone on," she said and glanced out at a camp, barely seen through the grass.  "I have a duty, though.  I can't let Galen and Ordin continue what they're doing.  How did you get past the magic wards they put up?"

"Pure luck," he admitted.  "They didn't go off.  How did you?"

"I was already here when they made camp," she explained.  "There wasn't likely to be another place anywhere else along the road.  Look at the Centaurs.  What do you see out of place?"

Connor crawled forward and tilted his head so he could see the Centaurs.  They stood in a line not far away, their heads up.  Thin, he thought.

"What are those glowing spots on their chests?"

"Seals," she said with disgust.  "Galen and Ordin have full control over the Centaurs, and also drain power from them."

"Which is why they are so thin?"

Flash Fiction # 349 -- Connor of Northgate/33

Chapter Nine
 
By midmorning of the third day, Connor finally felt well enough to leave the cave.  He gathered a few things he could carry; some dried fruit, a jug of water and a blanket.  He'd pay them back for the loan.

Connor's arm still ached, but not with the constant pain that had threatened to make him ill and weak.  The fever had passed as well.  He felt clear-headed for the first time since the attack on Northgate.

For the first time in his life, Connor really considered that he might not have the ability to think like the fae.  He began to suspect there were aspects of magic involved that he couldn't see or feel and that they were so inherent to --

Inherent.  Inherit.

Lord Northgate had not named an heir.

Connor stopped at one of the crossroads in the little maze and considered how that affected what had happened. He'd read histories about how Lords had sometimes taken the lands of another.  He'd never heard of it done with the Gate Lords, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.  Was there anything that would stop someone?

The Gate Stones?

The stone in the High Tower held a special power connected to the keep.  When a Lord named an heir, that person must feel the pull of the stone, though not so strong as the Lord did.  The power passed when the Lord of the Keep died, or when he was removed from power by the High Court.  Smaller pieces of the Keep stones were kept at the High Court, and if the Lord died without an heir -- or the heir died at the same times, as had happened in battle -- then the new person was named at court. The piece of stone held untapped energy that returned to it when no one else took up the power.

Were Galin and Ordin following them, or were they already heading for the Royal Court to claim the keep?  Was Lord Northgate already dead?

The thought angered and chilled him.

Connor knew nothing of the Royal court.  Would they accept Ordin and Galen?  Would they be able to convince the Royal Court that one of them should be Lord of Northgate?

Connor suddenly realized he didn't know how fae thought.  He could live among them, and he felt he understood much of what they did -- but at this crucial break, he couldn't say if the Royal Court would give over the keep to Ordin and Galen since they had won the battle.

Could it be that simple?

Connor didn't want to think so.  He also had to believe Lord Northgate still lived.

By the time Connor reached the village, he could tell something had gone wrong.  He couldn't hear a single sound, as he waited at the edge of the maze, crouched over and staring out at the corner of the buildings.  Nothing moved, and he could see signs of trouble even from here.

Connor carefully removed the stand of grass and as carefully put it back into place.  Then he crept into the village and looked around.  There was no one around and no sign of bodies -- but then there wouldn't be.  When fae died, the magic that held them together dissipated, and took the thin shell with it.
 
He could see they had put up a fight against the enemy, including the centaurs which had apparently trampled through, their hoof marks plain in the mud.

This would have happened with or without Connor being here.  The others would have come this way anyway, so it was stupid for him to feel any guilt.  Still, he thought about Liam's sister and wished he had at least asked her name.  He thought about Liam, too.  Lord Northgate.
 
This was fae business, he thought suddenly.  This was the fae world and their troubles, and there was nothing a human could do to help.

Especially if he crawled away and didn't try.

Connor found a few more bits of food and packed them away in the blanket he used as a sling.  He still had no idea how far he had to go or what trouble he might find.  Connor knew that some of the fae creatures considered it stealing to take so much as a berry from their bushes.  He'd counted on the others knowing what was safe and what wasn't until now.  He'd have to be very careful after this.

Connor had no trouble finding the path that the others had taken away from the village.  In fact, they had knocked down grass and made a new trail heading almost due south.  He found the tracks of fae with the centaurs; enough of them that he thought they must be a good part of the villagers.

Connor followed after them through the silent grasslands where everything had seemed to disappear.  He didn't hear a single bird and nothing rustled through the brush.  All the creatures of the area had been spooked.

The villagers hadn't given him away.  Some had seen Liam's sister take Connor to someplace safe.

He didn't understand what was going on and that left him feeling uneasy.  This wasn't his place.  He'd spent very little time away from the Keep, but at least he knew some of the basics of survival.  He even knew what creatures to watch out for, and kept an eye open for any griffins sailing almost silently through the sky.  However, he saw nothing at all.

Connor was better for the days of rest, at least. The trail was easy to see, though he walked long into the night without spotting any of those he followed.  Connor did find an area where the grass didn't grow and settled down under his blanket by the side of a boulder, hoping he would be less noticeable there.  He even slept, too exhausted to keep awake and listen for things that didn't seem to be around anyway.  Even the breeze was nearly still.

Flash Fiction # 348 -- Connor of Northgate/32

Connor wondered if they should argue with these people because going to the village might not be safe for any of them.  On the other hand, they were going to ride which meant no more walking for a while.

There might be another problem.

"I am a human," Connor said before anyone had mounted.  "Is that a problem?"

"None for us, Connor of Northgate," the man in charge said, and he who took Connor up behind him.

Connor hadn't ridden much in his life.  He was grateful for it now as he looked back, trying to spot the enemy.  Were they close?  Would they catch them on the run?

They galloped along the trail towards the village, though at one point the man signaled a few -- those not carrying the refugees -- to head off on another path.

"They'll go to the Centaurs and tell them the trouble.  We get along well enough with them.  They were the ones who spotted you and sent us running this way."

"Good," Connor said.  He didn't waste any more words.

They rode for far too long, and dusk had reached the world before Connor saw the village.  It was no more than a few huts with no walls and no defenses.  He looked around with worry as he slid from the horse, grateful to be back on his feet again.

"Trolls," Connor said, looking at the others.  "This place won't stand up to the trolls.  We dare not stay --"

"We have magic, Connor.  And we'll use it here.  You need to rest, all of you, for at least a few hours.  We'll go on before dawn."

That sounded like a perilously long time, and yet not nearly long enough to sleep.  Connor didn't know what to think.

The others took matters in hand.  Connor went with Erlis to a hut of brightly woven cloth, the door open to the fading sunlight.  There he threw himself down amid soft, fragrant blankets too tired to even care what happened next.  He felt ill and feared the fever was coming back again.

Didn't care.

"He shouldn't travel," someone said.

Connor awoke slowly, his throat aching, his body trembling.  He blinked, looking around at the crowd of faces.  He didn't know many of them, but he focused on Nylia and Druce.  They both looked haggard and worried.

"Connor?" Nylia said softly.

"Go," he said softly.  "Go on.  Need to get to the others."

"We'll keep him as safe as we can," a stranger said.  She had a lovely voice, and Connor wanted to believe her.

"Connor's right," Antisha said.  She sounded worried, but he couldn't say it was about him.  "We'll send someone back for him as soon as we can."

"Connor --" Nylia said again.  Then her hand tightened on his arm.  "Get well.  We'll see you soon."

He watched, weak and narrow-eyed, as they left.  Then the others went out of the hut, whispering things he couldn't quite hear.  He wanted to follow, but he couldn't even sit up.  Connor dropped back down, worried about being among strangers, but too weak to do more than close his eyes.

A day passed.  Part of another.  He sipped broth and worked at conserving his energy and thinking of ways to escape if he needed to.  They didn't seem friendly, these Wildlanders, but he'd heard all his life that they were quiet and reticent people.  He tried not to take their reactions to him personally.

Late on the third day, a young woman came in who looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't say where from.  She seemed nervous.

"The Centaurs are coming, and they have riders," she whispered.

He shook his head.  Centaurs did not take riders -- not of their own free will.

"Magic," he whispered and started to get to his feet.  He was wobbly but able to stand.

She nodded, glancing nervously at the door.  "Come with me.  We'll hide."

He didn't argue, letting her lead him outside and behind the hut.  He only barely glanced at the little village and noted that everyone was at work as though nothing were going on.  Wise people.

"Take me where I can hide," he said softly.  "Then go.  They can't trace me since I'm human."

"Oh."  She looked at him, her eyes wide.  "You know Liam?  He's my older brother."

Don't forget me.

"I know him well," he said, trying not to sound winded, only a few steps away from the building.

"I worry about him.  Everyone else says he can avoid trouble, but he never did, you know.  He always did what was right.  Though I do wish he would have told me who I'll marry.  It would save so much trouble."

He smiled a little.  They were already at the edge of the grass, but if they headed into it --

She bent and pulled several stalks straight up.  The ground came with them, revealing a small tunnel within the stems on the other side.  Connor went in first and started to tell her not to follow, but she had already crawled in and put the line of grass back into place.

"Careful now.  If you brush against the plants, they'll move and give us away."

"You should go back."

"Not until I'm sure you are safe."

He crawled as fast as he dared, hoping they didn't have to go far.  It turned out there was a maze of little paths through the tall grass, and from the prints, they were used by more than just the Wildlanders.  He hoped they didn't run into anything that might give them away.

She directed him down to a stream bank and into a small cave.  It had supplies -- a place where they must take shelter sometimes in a dangerous area.  Or maybe this was their winter home.  It had a well-lived look.

"Stay here.  I'll come back for you."

He nodded and settled in.

He waited a day.  And another.

She didn't come back.

Flash Fiction # 347 -- Connor of Northgate/31

Connor could see a few stands of tall trees that rose like islands in a sea of sun-dried grasses.  Things moved there, in the shadows of the trees.  Soon something charged off in haste, bounding through the tall cover, though he could not see clearly.

"Centaur," Erlis warned.  "And I have to wonder where he's running and to whom he will report."

Druce stared ahead. "I see a trail just ahead, but it must lead straight to the stand of trees where the Centaur ran.  I don't think we want to walk right up to them."

"Not wise," Antisha agreed.  She tried to push hair back out of her eyes and snarled when it wouldn't stay back.  "The centaurs sometimes go wild if something upsets them.  We don't want to walk in uninvited -- and no, Connor, you would not make a difference in this.  I've known many at court."

Connor had never met a centaur and wasn't going to argue.  He and his companions kept going, and within the hour they found another path, leading into the tall grass that rose up to their waists and higher in places.

"Here looks like a good place to cross," Druce said.  "I can't say where this path goes, but at least not straight to a centaur camp."

"What about my friend here?" Connor said with a hand reaching towards his pocket.

The fairy leapt out onto his palm and looked around as he gave a little stretch.  Antisha came closer, and the fairy spoke in a quick rush of words and pointed to a taller tree a few feet away.  Connor got the idea and limped over to it. The fairy leapt up onto the trunk and scrambled upwards, soon sitting in a clump of leaves and looking content.

"He'll be all right?" Connor asked.

"Yes.  His people can find him," Nylia explained with a gentle hand on Connor's shoulder.  "And he's strong enough now to get to cover."

"Safer here than with us," Druce added.  "Fairies are woodland creatures.  There's not much cover out in the grasslands."

Connor took one last look to make sure the fairy was safe, and then he started away.  Connor wanted to rest, and if they stood still for too long by the tree, he was going to climb up and sleep as well.

Druce led them into the grass.  He glanced back once after a few steps, but he couldn't see the fairy so he had to think the little guy would be safe enough there.

Connor concentrated on the path instead.  While this one didn't have as much debris as they had to avoid in the woods, and while it took a relatively straight course, it was still not easy.  Ruts were worn into the soil, and burrs attached themselves every time he brushed against the tall grass, clinging to hair, arms, and clothing.  There was no relief from the sunlight which beat down on them all through the day.

Connor fought to keep his temper in hand.  Druce occasionally cursed softly and then shook his head as though he regretted the outburst.  They would have to rest soon; Connor wasn't the only one limping.  The sun passed overhead, noon and beyond, but nothing different showed in their westerly direction, though sometimes the path turned a bit south, giving them their only hope of reaching anywhere.

But not today. 

The heat and sunlight made his head pound.  No -- that was the sound of hooves, and they were coming far too close!

Druce signaled everyone to stop as he looked frantically around, but there was nowhere they could hide that wouldn't leave a clear trail.

"We could split up," Erlis suggested, but then he shook his head.  "None of us would get far.  Can you see them, Druce?"

Druce, at the front of the line, was looking up over the taller stalks of grass.  "I can see shapes.  At least a dozen of them."

Nothing more to do except to rest and wait.  Connor seriously wanted to sit down, but since none of the others did, he stood his ground, so to speak.  He did bow his head and close his eyes.  That proved to be unwise.  He almost fell asleep on his feet.

Nylia caught him by the arm and gave him a nod of commiseration.  She didn't look any happier.  He tried to worry about what would happen now.  Were they going to fight?  Magic would call even more enemies to them.

Could Antisha talk their way out of this?  She was trying to look presentable, even daring a few touches of magic.  Centaurs were big on show, he remembered.  What would they think of the human in the group?  Maybe he should hide since he might not be noticed --

He looked around, but there was nowhere to go that wouldn't be noticed.  Best, he supposed, just to face this with the rest of them.

There was a bend in the trail not far ahead.  Connor hadn't noticed until now, but it kept the new group from sight until they turned --

Not centaurs.

"Wildlanders," Nylia said, relief in her voice.  "Horses."

He hadn't quite believed it until they had neared, and the people dropped down from the horses.  The Wildlanders looked almost as stunned to find the group here as Connor, and his companions felt.

"He said we should watch for you in the late summer," someone said and sounded shocked.  "He said there would be trouble."

Connor recognized the man.  "You were one of the people who brought Liam to Northgate."

"Yes," the man said, nodding emphatically.  "And he told us to watch for you.  He said that we must get you to safety.  I didn't believe him because he couldn't say what was wrong."

"Northgate Keep came under attack," Antisha explained.  "It happened at the close of the Testing.  Galen and his son brought in trolls.  We are not safe company."

"Come.  We'll get you to the village."

Flash Fiction # 346 -- Connor of Northgate/30

Chapter Eight

The others were more used to traveling in the woods than Connor who hadn't been cognizant of the first few days.  He found his nerves frayed by every odd sound. The others appeared to be more resigned to the state of their lives, and Connor did his best to copy their attitudes -- and not to snarl in disgust at dirt and snarled hair.

They made good time pushing through the brush and following along the edges of streams while creatures watched from the woods.  Somewhere dangerous enough that they chose a different path for a few hours.  As long as the fae did nothing to provoke trouble, neither did the woodland creatures.

And so a pair of nesting griffins let them pass with barely a snarl, and a unicorn looked askance at them, a single bright eye blinking in the cover of leaves, and the tip of his horn glittering with magic.  They all gave him a cautious bow, and he snorted once but didn't move.

The fairies helped.  They traveled along with the group, and Antisha thought they might have sent word ahead that the refugees were not trouble. 

Connor felt better again as sunset neared. The others said they were not far from the grasslands, though that was no place of safety.  It was a destination, though. After eight days in the woods, they were finally going to reach somewhere. The sight of the woods had started to feel claustrophobic to Connor, and the fear that he -- not the others -- would trespass where he shouldn't plagued him when he should be resting.

Trouble came at sunset on the eighth day.  Connor hadn't heard the sounds of the fairies, but they arrived in a rush, the call of frantic voices startling him.  One, he saw, was carried by others, one wing mangled and the other gone.

"What happened?" Connor reached out with his hands and hey deposited the injured fairy into his palms.  Connor made no sharp movements.

Antisha listened to the battle of voices and shook her head with a little dismay.  "I think it must be Galen or Ordin.  The fairy's don't see people the way we do; it's all scent and colors to them. I can't think of anyone else who would have done such a thing to fairies, demanding news about us."

"How far away?" Erlis asked.

"Half a day back.  There are several more of them than there are of us, and better supplied."  She frowned and looked to the south and home, but shook her head.  "We wouldn't have made it that far anyway."

The fairies swarmed up into the air again and began to dart one way or another in frantic haste.  The one Connor held lifted his head and then dropped back down, clearly too exhausted and weak even to be carried.

"Shall I keep him?  I can put him in my pocket for now."

"Yes, good," Anthisa said and talked to the fairies again.  They gave shouts, loud noises for them, and then headed into the woods at a slight angle to where they were going.

"We better keep moving.  The fairies were right -- they dare not stay anywhere too long for fear it will attention.  They're heading to a spot near the grasslands where an old ogre lives in a cave.  If they can lead Galen there, he's going to have his hands full for a while."

"Brave little creatures," Erlis said with a smile.  He tore off some cloth from his tunic and helped make a bed for the fairy in the front pocket of Conner's vest.  The fairy settled in, looking over the edge as they moved on, and seemed content enough.  "It will take a while, but his wings will grow back.  I think we're going to have to keep going through the night.  You up to it, Connor?"

"I'll go for as long as I can. If I can't keep up, take our friend here and keep moving."

"We will not --"

"Yes, you will.  He can't find me.  Come back later if you have to, but the rest of you have to stay far enough ahead that he can't sense you.  That's the problem, isn't it?"

Antisha sighed.  "Yes, it is.  We'll see what happens.  We aren't slowing yet."

Connor didn't argue.  He didn't want to be left behind because some of the creatures of the woods only tolerated him while he was in the company of the fae. He didn't say so, but his friends were not stupid.  They'd have thought of it, too.

They rested for only a few moments during the long night.  A lone fairy came to tell them the others had followed the false path, but it wouldn't hold them for long, and their anger might well give them strength.

Connor and his friends had to reach the grasslands, though they wouldn't be safe out in the open.  At least, though, they would have a chance to see what was coming, and they could make better time, which might help.

They were all exhausted. Connor wasn't the only one stumbling at every step.  The sounds grew louder around them, and he feared something was coming --

It was.  Sunrise turned grays to greens and a gold ahead of them that made him blink and think the sun was very bright --

The trees had begun to thin. The gold was the grasslands in the distance, beyond a range of scrub brush.  Connor stared in silence, still moving forward.  No one else said anything either, until they came to a stumbling stop near the edge of the taller trees, the vista still broken by young growth trying to take the edge of the grasslands.

"Here," Antisha said.  She stared ahead and then shook her head.  "We made it here.  Now?"

She appeared almost too shocked to do anything more. 

"Keep to the edge until we find a trail," Druce said and started out heading southward along the line of trees.