Scent of Magic

While the tribesmen had the advantage of numbers, Kerrick’s troops had experience with fighting in the woods. He hoped it would be enough.

Kerrick returned to their temporary headquarters near the edge of the forest to consult and coordinate with his four majors one last time. They had erected a small tent for their use.

“The tribesmen will be settling in soon,” Kerrick said. “The moon will be just bright enough tonight. When the leaves shake, that’ll be my signal to launch the attack. By the time they realize what’s going on, we should have the upper hand.”

“Uh, Kerrick,” Danny said from behind him.

He rounded on the boy. “Shouldn’t you be helping feed the soldiers?”

Standing just inside the tent’s flaps, Danny swallowed. “We’re done. Cold rations take half the time to serve.” He held up a handful of beef jerky. “I brought this for you.”

“Sorry.” Kerrick took the jerky and studied the boy.

Danny and Zila had been helping with the cooking in Major Sondra’s unit since they’d been discovered. Although Kerrick had wanted to send them back to Orel immediately, he couldn’t spare the men and horses at that time. However, tonight they would be sitting on a horse along with two guards at a safe distance away from the fighting. If Kerrick’s army failed, he would signal them and they would take off to warn Izak.

“What do you need?” Kerrick asked him when he didn’t leave. Despite disobeying him, Danny had proven useful these past six days. Danny reminded him of Avry—a good and bad thing.

“Shouldn’t you make sure the tribesmen plan to attack us? Maybe they’re not looking for war, but for food or warmth.”

Major Volker snorted with amusement. “The tribesmen are always looking for war, son.”

“But that was before the plague. Maybe they changed.”

Volker gave Kerrick a pointed glare. Kerrick didn’t like the stout man but did admire his military savvy. He was about to explain to Danny the reasons for the ambush, when he reconsidered.

Instead he asked, “What are you suggesting?”

“That we send in someone with a white flag of truce and find out what they’re doing here,” Danny said.

“Ridiculous,” Volker said.

“If they’re here to fight, then we lose the element of surprise. It’s our biggest advantage,” Kerrick said.

“So you’re just going to kill them without learning more? What if they’re here for another reason?” Danny asked.

“The tribes don’t travel south unless they’re on the warpath, son. Our history books are filled with their heinous acts,” Volker said in a condescending tone.

“Sometimes history books are wrong.” Danny appealed to Kerrick. “Look at what everyone said about the healers refusing to heal those with the plague, but it turned out to be all wrong.”

And that did it. Kerrick had been about to agree with Volker, but Danny made a valid point.

“If the army is already in the attack position, we can react right away if the response to our flag of truce is negative,” General Zamiel said.

Kerrick agreed, despite knowing the majors wouldn’t be happy at all.

* * *

Striding toward the warriors’ camp, Kerrick wasn’t happy about the situation either. If, by some miracle, Danny had been right and the tribes weren’t on the warpath, then this encounter would save many lives. It was worth the effort.

Even though the majors wanted to send one of the soldiers, Kerrick volunteered to go. It made the most sense. After all, he could use his forest magic to escape, but not his sword. He’d left it nearby, tied to a vine so he could retrieve it from a distance with his magic.

The forest’s displeasure over the sheer number of intruders hummed in Kerrick’s veins. Through his connection with the living green, he sensed the locations of all those irritants. At least his army had reached their positions with only minor rustling. They waited for his signal.

Now or never, he thought. The tribesmen had settled down for the night. Holding a white handkerchief in his right hand, he approached the outer guards. Kerrick stopped when two of the warriors spotted him. He spread his arms wide, showing them he was unarmed.

They pulled their swords and scanned the forest behind him. The man on the left yelled a warning, and soon Kerrick was surrounded by six armed warriors. More shouts and loud crunchings meant the rest of the warriors were being roused. Uneasy, Kerrick sent his magic into the vines growing near their feet and into a tree with a broken limb just in case.

He waved the handkerchief. “I’d like to speak with your leader.”

His circle of guards escorted him to a tall muscular man. Kerrick hadn’t noticed how slight the others were until he met their leader. The man rested his hand on the hilt of his dadao. The blade seemed longer than the ones carried by the others. Ice-blue eyes stared at him with such coldness, Kerrick felt a chill brush his skin.

“Who are you?” the leader asked in a thick accent.

“I’m Kerrick of Alga Realm. And you?”

“Noak. Why are you here?”

“To ask you the same thing.”

“You cannot stop us.”

Kerrick ignored that. “You don’t belong here.”

Noak’s expression didn’t change, but Kerrick’s heart filled with an icy dread.

“No one here now. You all...gone.”

“Not all. Our people fled when you arrived,” Kerrick said.