home

search

22: "All Your Trees Will Be My Forest" (2 of 3)

  22-2Syffox stood on a rise looking out over the arid scrubland plain. In the distance before him, a carpet of black marching soldiers surged out of the hills in a haze of dust. The towering war machines, pulled by bulls, were scattered among them. Behind the troops and machines marched the even more horrific gifts from the gods: brigades of dust devils, fire efreets, jinns, and desert demons of all kinds. Syffox clenched himself against a sinking feeling. He was glad only he could see so far and none of the followers spied what bore down on them.

  Behind Syffox stood his army, a massive throng of men and women with the courage to defend their forest and way of life. Syffox was impressed with the numbers that turned out for the forest’s defence, but he was less impressed with their armaments. Their weapons were mostly hunting bows and axes or clubs. Those that wore armour only wore hardened leather or padded hides. These were hunting and gathering forest people, after all—not trained and supplied soldiers.

  There was no rank or file to the collection of defenders—such notions of organisation were foreign to the forest people. What command structure they did seem to have was found in the bands that gathered behind each of Mackyntal’s clerics. Syffox and the others hoped that with some magic support scattered throughout their numbers, they stood a better chance of surviving.

  Behind them all, boldly towering over the forest, stood Vantaiga, clad in the trees themselves and beaming with the na?ve confidence of a leader who had never been tested. She basked in the prayers of her faithful while sending back her blessings to steady their hearts and courage. Syffox only shook his head and turned his attention to the commanders of his makeshift army. Palatine rode up the small hill, riding from far side of their line of troops. In the other direction Mackyntal and Drael briskly walked towards him.

  Once Palatine joined Syffox, he promptly addressed him. “Do you see their numbers, my lord?”

  Syffox frowned as he peered into the distance. “There are too many to number.”

  Palatine groaned. “How do you expect to fight a battle when we don’t know how many we face?”

  A mix of sadness and frustration swirled within Syffox. He rested a hand on Palatine’s leg, sending a sense of peace and calm over the warrior. “This is not about fighting. This is about standing.”

  Palatine bowed his head. “Yes, my lord. My apologies.”

  The two fell into silence while they waited for the others to reach them. Palatine opened his mouth to say something but stopped for a long moment. He looked about uneasily before straightening up in his saddle to speak again. “Lord Syffox?”

  Syffox started. It was the first time he’d heard Palatine address him by name. “What is it, Palatine?”

  The prefect hesitated. “How do you manage to work so easily with Vantaiga?”

  Syffox chuckled and looked back fondly over his Goddess before replying. “Truth be known, I don’t. I just make it look easy by holding my tongue a lot, perhaps too much. If you want to know a secret—I was jealous of the way you confronted her about the ambush. In all the centuries of knowing her, I have never been able to address her so directly.”

  “But I was wrong to confront her.”

  “And perhaps there is where we could have learned from each other. You see her as a subordinate servant that should listen and do as she’s told. I see her as a superior being who will provide the world and I with salvation. We probably could have both done better to simply see her as someone struggling to do the best she can in the world she’s stuck in.” He smiled sadly. “Our redemption will not be found in pleased governors or divine graces. I see now it will only be found within ourselves.”

  Palatine appeared to struggle with his words. He looked back to the sounds of his commander approaching and only replied to Syffox with, “Thank you, my lord.

  The commander nodded his greeting as he approached. “Our soldiers stand ready and will make use of any flanking attacks that open up.”

  Palatine responded in the more comfortable efficiency of an army captain. “Thank you, Commander.”

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  Syffox joined in the prefect’s thanks. “And thank you as well, Commander, for aiding in the defence of our forest. There are not many outsiders who would choose this battle.”

  The commander merely stretched in his saddle. “We either fight this battle or we fight the next. At least here there is something to fight for.” An uncustomary warm smile came to the grizzled warrior. “And for that, we thank you and your Goddess.”

  Syffox returned him a small bow before the three resumed looking out over the growing horde while waiting for Drael and Mackyntal to arrive.

  After a few minutes of watching the distant dust rise, the two forest clerics finally joined the trio. Mackyntal, slightly out of breath, spoke out on his last steps. “We are as ready as we will ever be, Master.”

  Syffox drew in a breath as he was struck with a pang of regret for his old friend and student. “That’s a good choice of words, Mac, but thank you for getting everyone together.”

  “It’s my pleasure. These invaders wish to fight our Goddess in her own domain. There are not enough soldiers in the world to succeed at that.”

  Syffox found it hard to accept his optimism. “It is not the number of soldiers you have to worry about. It is what they bring with them that will be the real problem.”

  Mackyntal’s face brightened. “Then we will just have to have faith that the forest will provide.”

  Syffox caught himself and realised what he was saying of the efforts of the forest people and Mackyntal’s clergy that were charged with shepherding it. He returned a broad grin to the old priest. “Indeed we will, old friend. Know that I’m very proud of what you and the Order have achieved.” Syffox looked over Mackyntal’s and Drael’s bows. “And I finally get to see your bows.”

  Mackyntal beamed at the chance to show off. “Yes, indeed, Master.” He unshouldered the bow and held it out for Syffox to examine. “Please.”

  Syffox took the bow and felt its warm heartbeat. He could feel the bow regarding him with confident wariness. It did not like being held by him, but it was also not tensing to strike him—not yet anyways. “It is very patient and steady. It will serve you well.”

  Mackyntal’s smile broadened. “Thank you, my lord. I am very grateful you shared with us the secrets of building it.”

  “You’re welcome… Master Bowyers.”

  The two men quaintly smiled at being granted their long awaited final titles. They both nodded with a “Thank you Master.”

  Syffox returned to look out over battlefield. “You know, I’ve always found my bow to be impatient and impetuous.”

  Mackyntal coughed. “Excuse me, lord? You find your ‘bow’ impetuous?” Beside him, Drael began to snicker.

  Syffox shot a disapproving look to them both. “Yes. My bow.”

  “Your bow is impetuous?” Mackyntal’s eyes shifted between the men. Drael clamped his mouth shut while Palatine looked on in confusion. Mackyntal composed himself to finally reply, “Yes, of course, Master.”

  They all resumed watching the growing mass of black on the horizon. Each drifted into their own thoughts until Mackyntal broke the silence. “I am glad to be here with you, my oldest friend.”

  Syffox’s expression faltered. “I am glad you are here as well.” There was a long pause before he continued, “Drael? Did Mac ever tell you what my father’s last words to me were?”

  Drael shook his head. “I’m afraid he never has, Your Grace.”

  “He said, ‘No one truly dies as long as they are remembered.’”

  Mackyntal nodded as he reflected on the old story. His smile faded as its significance pressed on him. Syffox placed his hands on the shoulders of his two brethren and whispered, “Goddess guide me.”

  Mackyntal shot a startled look at Syffox. “No! Wai—”

  His words were cut off as the air about them swirled inwards and the three, along with Vantaiga, disappeared in a reverberating thump across the plain.

  A surprised silence fell over the crowd that slowly gave way to rising murmurs. Moments later, Vantaiga returned and resumed giving her blessings and apologies for the brief departure. Syffox returned as well, next to Palatine, alone and hanging his head.

  Palatine reached down to clasp his shoulder. “That was a good thing to do, my lord. They will come to understand in time.”

  Syffox wiped away a tear and clasped his hand. “Yes, you are right. They will have the time to understand and remember the ways of the forest.”

  Puzzled, Palatine queried, “But can’t Mackyntal magic his way back here?”

  Syffox shook his head. “No, he is too far away. I took him to my homeland.”

  Palatine nodded as he looked around at the desolate landscape. “Is it nice there?”

  Syffox reluctantly replied, “Wwwell, it’s not hot and dry.” He looked up at Palatine with a confident grin. “But that is not our problem. We have a job to do.”

  Palatine and his silent commander sat at attention in their saddles. “Of course, my lord.”

  Syffox pulled out from his quiver his finger and arm guards, speaking as he strapped them on. “When the enemy falls forward, withdraw to the forest. Lead them in and use the trees to protect you. Vantaiga will cover you from the artillery and hopefully the demons.”

  “And you, my lord?”

  Syffox unshouldered his bow and let it string itself. He looked up at the two with a mischievous glint. “I’m going to reduce their numbers a bit.” He began walking out into the stony plain to greet the oncoming horde.

  As Syffox limped away, Palatine called out to him, “I wish we had more time together, Lord of the Range.”

  Syffox looked back as he continued to walk. “As do I, Champion of the Forest.”

  Palatine watched him leave before finally turning to his commander. “Let’s see what these forest people can do, shall we? We have the privilege of fighting with women on this day.”

  The commander grimly replied, “Yes, sir.”

  As the two men returned to the forest defenders, the commander asked, “Have you any words for me from your father?”

  Palatine thought for a moment. “Don’t join the army?”

  The commander nodded. “Good advice.” After a few more steps of riding, he spoke up again. “Are you going to magic me away now?”

  Palatine only shook his head. “Nope.”

  SOMETIMES TO FIGHT THE DARKNESS, YOU MUST EMBRACE IT.

  It’s 1951. The United States, still recovering from the Second World War, is already fighting another halfway across the world. Cold War paranoia grips the nation, a dangerous new drug craze spreads through the streets, and magic isn’t just real—it’s big business. Corporations mass-produce enchanted devices like modern conveniences, selling spellwork the way others sell toasters.

  And oh yeah—monsters are real, too.

  They just prefer to be called Mythics.

  WHAT TO EXPECT:

  
  • Urban fantasy with noir grit and epic stakes
  • Monster FBI + magical bounty hunter duo
  • Case-driven arcs, long-term payoffs, sharp humor
  • Dark themes balanced with heart and banter


  ? NEW CHAPTERS EVERY TUESDAY & THURSDAY ?

Recommended Popular Novels