The defenders met at the West Sentinel. Upon them they had a good supply of melini tablets and a blanket made from dureski leaves rolled up and folded until it was no larger than a hand (though thin the blanket was warm and waterproof). Their swords hung from the same belt that carried the woven bag. The Woodlanders had made the swords from various metals that they’d found. They’d melted the metals down and poured them into clay casts making them into swords they carried and tools.
Oak looked at his defenders awaiting their final instructions before departure, he gave a short speech, wishing them speed and safe travel and hastened the split groups to go their different directions at a run.
Oak led his group with Pine close by, he noticed Elm lag a little behind him and he wondered what sabotaging thoughts were going through his head. He stopped himself from going any further, scolding himself for thinking in such a way and reminded himself he was the leader, it was for him to bring out the best in his clan. If he thought negatively of Elm, how could Elm be any different? He had to shake this bad image he had and think of Elm as good. If he encouraged Elm perhaps, he’d surprise Oak and become one of his best defenders. Somehow, he didn’t think that would happen but he pushed that thought aside and concentrated on how he would help Elm to be a better defender.
They ran for twenty kilometres heading north, his group tracking the Citans. Oak stopped them for a short break and a chance to eat a melini tablet. They all sat crossed legged between the bushes and trees, staying as close together and yet with a respectful distance apart as they could. They ate slowly, taking advantage of the rest and enjoying the pleasantness of the summer day, it was not yet overly hot and the temperature was quite perfect for lazing in.
Oak sat a little away from them, he had an uneasy feeling and he wanted to get in touch with his senses to find out why. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his rhythmic breathing. He could hear his heart beating and felt the blood coursing through his veins; his ears were alive to the breeze as it softly brushed against the leaves of the trees and bushes. The smell of wood and scuffed up earth reached his nose and the soundless cracking of twigs. They were close to the Citans. The air sent goose bumps through his flesh.
He could see them now in his head, their feet landing heavy on the ground, he felt the vibrations. Someone stumbled and cursed as they righted themselves. Their leader stopped and turned, they all halted to look at him. He raised his hand into the air, palm facing them, telling them to stay. He turned his head from one side to another, listening. Oak could hear him sniffing the air, raising his chin feeling the breeze upon his face. It was then that the Citan leader's eyes lit up. He knew they were being followed.
Oak started out of his trance. The Citan leader was more than he’d imagined. He thought they would be easy to follow, that they wouldn’t be aware of the Woodlanders but this wasn’t to be the case. Oak realized their observation of the Citans was going to be more dangerous than he’d originally thought. This group was already wary and watching out for anything different in their surroundings. He'd felt their fear escalate, this would make them unpredictable.
He’d have to change his strategy for he had too many with him and so large a group would be sensed quickly. They would have to split up into smaller bands. He didn’t feel comfortable with the idea, even more so when it came to Elm and which band he should be with. He had to stop this and trust Elm, he had no choice. He quickly scanned the group immediately splitting them mentally and deciding where they would go and what they would do.
“Defenders, we have been found out. The Citan leader knows we’re following them. We must be extremely cautious as their fear is now heightened and they’ll attack if they see or hear us.” His defenders looked up in surprise, their faces aghast that their leader had such insight to know these things and they marvelled that they were so lucky to be in his group.
Pine raised a questioning eyebrow but he said nothing. They all waited for Oak to continue.
“We shall split into groups of three, except for my group, that shall include Pine, Elm and Blackthorn.” Going through the names of his defenders he placed them into two other groups.
“Cedar, you shall take your group east of here and travel beside the Citans keeping two kilometres in distance. Beech you will travel west and perform the same task as Cedar's group. My own group will follow behind the Citans.
Do not break your concealment, if you are discovered leave immediately and when safe return to a distance of three kilometres. Be wary, if they find you out and are alarmed and pursue, retreat, making sure you lose them.”
His eyes rested upon each face of his defenders. “Let’s hope,” he continued, “that we’re not found out.” His eyes were upon Blackthorn, he was smaller and wilier than the others, dressed in black he stood out in the sunlight but at night he disappeared like the smoke from a fire vanishing in the air.
“When any changes in plan are to be made I will send Blackthorn to tell you. Good luck!” With his last word he jumped to his feet and set off at a run with a startled Pine, Blackthorn and Elm following as fast as they could.
Oak had dispelled the thoughts of his own defenders; he was too entranced with the vision in his head as he quickly followed it. The Citans were travelling faster, they were more on edge and some of them were stumbling more because they were unsure of what was going to happen. Their leader was annoyed at them for slowing the procession down. His face was tight and drawn; his fingers kept reaching inside his coat touching the rifle hidden inside there. Oak knew it was loaded and ready.
Their heightened fear made them easier to feel but he couldn’t tell what the Citan leader felt. He didn’t fear, nor was he angry, Oak knew he was frustrated since he shouted orders to his uncoordinated band but that was all, only strong emotions were easy to pick up. This Citan was difficult to read, Oak would have to be very careful around him, and he wasn’t to be presumed to be the same as the others.
Abruptly Oak stopped and the three following him had to make a concerted effort to stop their own bodies from crashing into one another in a domino effect and all end up on the ground. Pine smiled, he enjoyed how Oak always kept them on their toes. Oak had no tolerance for laziness or lapses in concentration; you couldn’t slip up ever as it was too dangerous for everyone. Now, standing still, they all looked at Oak to see why he’d stopped so suddenly. He immediately dropped to the floor and they followed, looking left and right to see what danger they were in.
Oak listened, softening his breathing to hear more. They were not far from the Citans and the Citans knew they were here. Their leader had stopped and dropped to the back of the group. He was scanning the forest right now with his rifle at his shoulder, looking over the sight, scanning from left to right, searching, his finger resting upon the trigger. He’d already taken off the safety.
Oak crawled along the ground, silently indicating to his defenders they should do the same. In single file they followed him, when he stopped they stopped. He gave a motion, letting them know that they were to stay where they were and Oak continued to crawl on his belly through the undergrowth. Roots and twigs brushed against him but he didn’t notice he was getting closer to the Citan leader.
**********
Denver, the Citan leader stood still, halting his group to do the same. Slowly, he left them and as quietly as his big boots would allow (which was not as quiet as he’d hoped) he traversed the roots and bushes, avoiding twigs as best he could, whilst scanning over the top of his rifle. He knew they were being followed by Woodlanders and knew they were much closer now. Soon he would be within sight of them but his senses didn’t tell him what direction they were in, just that they were close. He stopped, realizing that he was foolish to leave the other boys and be out here on his own. He didn’t feel that they were many but they were still more than one and because he didn’t know who or what he was dealing with he thought he’d better not to stick around.
He knew some details of the Woodlanders who lived here in the forest but the details were holed and unreliable. How dangerous they were he had no idea, sightings of them had always been brief. He knew they were smaller and lived a very basic life in the forest and that they were territorial allowing no-one anywhere near their camp. Carefully, he stepped back, still watching, observing, and looking for anything different in the forest, any sight, sound, breath.
He heard a mumble from one of the boys and turned his dark, sharp eyes upon him, he immediately became quiet. Such disobedience didn’t help his search for the trackers that followed. Indicating that they should keep going with a wave of his hand, he continued his vigil behind them of scanning the forest, whilst walking backwards for a while and then swiftly turning he followed his band.
Denver accepted there was nothing he could do. Whoever was following was too good at hiding for him to find. They were also careful enough to comprehend that he could shoot them should they make the slightest mistake of making a sound or being seen. They would fall back to a safer distance now, so he and his group may as well keep on travelling.
He would keep paying attention to how close they were for now but tonight he’d find them and discover why they were following and exactly what they wanted. For now they would keep covering as much ground as they could. They still had a long way to go and their food and water supplies were diminishing too rapidly. Denver was very uneasy about this whole endeavour.
Although, he himself had left no-one behind at the city, many of them had and he knew they were not happy about it. However, he felt no pity for them; this is what they’d trained for, hours and hours, week after week to be the protectors of the city. They were the strongest, largest, most undefeated fighters in the city. They could be quick, ruthless and break a neck within seconds if they wanted; they were bodies of muscle and strength. He doubted that anyone could beat them in a fair fight. In a fair fight he thought but there were other ways to kill a person and they weren't always fair.
He’d watched the long kisses of farewell as they’d readied to leave the city. Tall, athletic girls holding tight to their loves with fear in their eyes fear that they wouldn’t see them again. He sincerely hoped that they would all return alive but he couldn’t guarantee it.
Boston, a lovely brunette, had stared at him sadly; her usually thrown back shoulders slumped slightly. Her eyes had looked bright and he wondered if she was going to cry over his leaving and was surprised at the thought. He changed his mind thinking he was being foolish. Boston was all good sense and efficiency; she had no time for silly emotions. She was the one who organized, sorted things, gave the right people the jobs they needed and would be happy attending to. She seemed almost robotic at times the way she worked and made everything run smoothly. He admired her but he didn’t love her.
Denver knew she loved him and he wondered why. He’d never encouraged her, never talked to her any differently than he did anyone else. He was polite and friendly as he would be to anyone but he didn’t flirt with her as some of the others did, she never flirted back with them. She didn't even flirt with him; he doubted she even knew how to flirt. Boston was too practical. He could envision what their relationship would be like.
“Denver,” she would say. “We are both physically attractive to one another; we have similar interests, are organized, comfortable in each other’s company and communicate well enough. Our chemistry works together both mentally and physically, so it is only natural that we should form a relationship.”
He could see it develop in a few years to...“Since we’re in a relationship Denver and physically healthy, being good specimens of the human race, we should procreate for humanity and have a child.” Everything would be practical, logical, functional, the way she believed a relationship should be. Not the way he believed it should be; filled with passion, emotion, flares of wanting, desire, even dispute, anger, jealousy, and all the things that made a relationship unpredictable.
As he moved away he'd smiled back at her and given her a wave. She'd lifted her elegant hand and given a slow wave back with a small smile that barely touched her lips. He thought he saw that aquiline nose twitch and cheekbones raise a little. He sometimes wondered if she would ever be passionate, she wasn’t the emotional type, her feelings ran as smoothly as a Swiss watch.
He’d never seen her show any sign of emotion, other than annoyance at a job that was poorly done. Obviously, he was wrong now if he thought she was upset by his departure. He’d scanned the rest of the people and turned, indicating to his group that it was time to go, he hadn’t looked back.
He was now taking huge strides onwards as he went over his thoughts and returned to his group. He sensed someone retreating and knew they’d now keep a greater distance to prevent themselves being caught. He needn’t worry about the followers until tonight. He’d other things to concern him right now, mainly his group who were worried that they’d never return to the city again. Perhaps some of them wouldn’t but as long as they followed his orders their chances of getting home were higher than they thought. He shook his head, they should have more faith.
*********
Oak saw him but there was little he could do, it was too late to retreat. His breath caught in his mouth as he wished his heart to stop and any other noise that his body made to live. The Citan leader was large like Fern had described and he was not twenty feet away from where Oak hid in between two bushes. He could see the Citan's finger squeezing and releasing upon the trigger of the rifle as he was searching, he was sniffing the air. Could he smell Oak? The Woodlanders smelled very much like the forest just because they spent all of their time in it, he hoped that was all the leader could smell. The Citan leader's group stood still waiting for him, they were curious as to what changes he’d noticed and Oak could sense that some were impatient to get on.
Oak's brain was on fire going through scenarios of what could happen next and how he would respond. He was ready to leap to the right should he be seen and shot at, his body was tight and ready to make the spring into the air. Hopefully, he would be quick enough to be missed by the bullet, he knew the chances of the second bullet missing him would be less once he was up and running, unless he could weave through the trees. He scanned the forest for what trees he could use to block the shots at him should he be quick enough to get up and away. His only chance would be to zigzag making it difficult for the Citan to target him. His fingers were clenched on the ground waiting to push him up quickly.
The Citan leader stopped, he was stepping backwards now, retreating to his band. Oak slowly relaxed as he saw the leader take more steps back and then turn and walk to the group. The crunch from the Citan’s heavy boots was loud to Oak's ears. The Citans had no stealth in this environment, that was a bonus for the Woodlanders, also, the Citan leaders long coat caught on branches causing distraction and this slowed him down too, another plus for Oak.
He was dressed in black jeans and a tight knit shirt; he’d be much quicker without the coat and would blend well into the dark. Oak noted he would be dangerous at night. At the moment the leader was encumbered and weaker, except that he had a rifle and they only had swords. His rifle wouldn’t work for him in the dark but Oaks eyes had seen the strap on the calf of the Citans right leg, a sheathed knife. At night he would be very dangerous.
Oak breathed normally again, he relaxed his tense muscles and stretched. He lay there for a little while before retreating to his waiting defenders. He had a lot to go through in his mind and none of it was good. If they should get into a fight with the Citans the chances of survival would not be in their favour. With the leader being so conscious of everything around him he would quickly alert his group and unless the Woodlander's had the advantage they would be defeated by the power and size of them.
He knew the Citans had trained hard just as his own defenders had, these boys were the best from the city he had no doubt of that. He could see the muscle tone under their tight shirts. They were at their physical peak. He’d have to keep his own defenders tightly under control; they couldn’t afford to make even the slightest mistake, as it would cost them too dearly.
Once he reached his defenders he signalled for them to sit. They were all looking at him in concern; they could see he wasn’t happy. Gathering his thoughts he told them of the Citan Leader and his telepathic abilities. He told them of the rifle and the sheathed knife on his calf.
Resting his gaze on each of them individually as he spoke he continued, “He’ll keep travelling with his band during daylight. He knows he is safe because of the rifle he carries, he can shoot anything at a great distance, so we must be careful to stay well back.” He paused for a moment and then with an intense gaze upon them all he continued, “We will be in the most dangerous position tonight.”
All eyes looked at him in question. “He’ll come to find us tonight, probably with a few of his best hunters. He’ll either kill us or he’ll question why we follow him, then he might kill us anyway. I don’t know for sure, he’s difficult to read, I can't tell if he’s evil.” He stared at the anxious faces before him. They didn’t like this development. Everything was riskier, their one plus of being unknown was gone and they were also dealing with a Citan that could sense presences.
Blackthorn looked at Oak in shock. Oak could tell the young defender was bewildered at how Oak knew all this. How being one of them, he could sense so much more than anyone else. Blackthorn had even told Oak one day, that Oak was like Hercules from the very old stories–myths from Greece about men being of human mother and having a god for a father. Oak had laughed and patted him on the shoulder telling him that he was indeed only mortal and nothing more.
At fifteen years of age Blackthorn looked up to Oak and Oak realized that he was his mentor, the person whom he aspired to be most like. It was quite a burden for someone only a few years older. He knew Blackthorn would gladly die for him, so Oak worked hard to prove to be everything that Blackthorn thought he was. He would guide and protect him as best he could.
Oak gave Blackthorn a smile. He was a faithful, unquestioning defender and he made Oak feel proud of him.
“Don’t be alarmed.” Oak continued, not directing the words at Blackthorn even though they were meant for him. “He will seek us out but he won’t find us. As soon as dusk arrives we’ll travel back three kilometres and each climb a tree at a distance of fifty feet between each of us. High in the branches we shall settle unseen for the night. We shall take turns on lookout, I starting the first shift, Pine the second, Elm the third and Blackthorn the final.” He stopped to make sure they were all good with the instructions.
“Let’s continue but at a good distance from the Citans. Let’s keep a bit of distance between ourselves also and be silent at all times, understand?” All heads nodded in acknowledgement and Oak and his defenders were once again running in pursuit of the Citans.