It was a long time before Denver indicated it was time to rest. Oak had been practically carrying Blackthorn for quite a few kilometres. His arms were tired as he sat Blackthorn down upon a rock and checked the boy's leg. The wound was still closed which was good. Oak had been concerned that the travelling would re-open the wound. Blackthorn was still pale and Oak wondered if he’d be able to continue for much farther at the pace that Denver was setting for them.
Denver had been leading the way having left Detroit in charge of watching them and telling him to make sure there were no attempts to escape. Detroit had gloated at the opportunity to play jailer and threatened them further in an effort to intimidate. Oak ignored his words but he knew they bore heavily on Blackthorn and he whispered to him in encouragement to pay no heed.
“He’s weak minded. Ignore him, he isn’t worth any thought. His fate will be brutal and vicious in the end, yours won’t.”
Blackthorn had looked at him in surprise. “You can foresee the future?” he asked.
Oak smiled and replied, “no, but I can read his character and certain types follow definite paths. His is a path of evil, yours is good.”
He looked at the boy at his side wavering dangerously backwards. “I won’t allow anyone to harm you anymore, trust me.”
“I’ll always trust you Oak.” He gave a weak smile as he continued, “I’ll follow you anywhere and into any danger, there’s no better defender to fight alongside.”
Oak looked at Blackthorn, his eyes were serious.
“Let’s hope Blackthorn that a fight isn’t where we’re heading.” His voice was low and his face was set into firm lines. “Fighting isn’t the answer, we must communicate; only with communication can we dispel fear, its fear that causes the fighting.”
He was quiet now as he sat taking a much needed rest. Oak looked around to see where the other Citans were. He was considering how he was going to handle the situation he and Blackthorn were in and knew he had no choice but to trust the Citan leader. Detroit was to be avoided as much as possible, his mind was set and there would be no changing it, but the others were more open than him and not as inclined toward physical action as he’d first thought. There was still one that caused him great concern.
Every now and then the evil boy would move beside Denver and say something in a low voice so Denver had to tilt his head to the side to hear. He could see Denver's look of distaste at being near him. He was much shorter than the rest of the Citans, although he was still taller than Oak, who assessed him to be less than six feet tall. He was thin, in a wiry way, possessing no muscle and very little fat; his skin was pale bordering on almost yellow and sallow. Everything about him was repulsive but worse was the evil that emanated from him. Detroit was nasty and looking for trouble but this boy was evil to the bone and not stupid either. He was a thinker and a planner, he would bide his time to get what he wanted and he would do it in a way to cause the most injury and damage.
It concerned Oak that he could read little else about him, couldn’t sense what he was up to. Of everyone in the group this boy was the most dangerous and the most malevolent. Oak gave an involuntary shudder. He’d never been around anyone that carried so much evil within him and Oak didn’t know how to deal with the feelings he evoked.
He took a few deep breaths and brought the wall up further in his mind, the wall that protected him. He cleared his head and prepared himself for a simple meditation, concentrating on his breathing, relaxing his body, removing himself from the present. He hadn’t had his eyes closed for long when he was aware that Denver was beside him. He looked up as the shadow of the large boy enveloped him.
“We need to talk!” Denver strode off expecting Oak to follow him. Oak took a quick look at Detroit who’d overheard and was staring after Denver. He checked Blackthorn who was laid down beside him and almost asleep then arose and quickly followed.
He caught Denver up near a couple of particularly large trees and Denver went behind them so he was out of view of everyone else. Oak was a little confused as to why he should do that but he followed.
“What do you want Denver?” he asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Tell me who makes you the most wary from our group?” asked Denver looking at Oak intently.
Oak stared back and waited a little while before answering.
“The thin boy in black with the black slicked hair and dark brown eyes, the one who isn’t a Citan.” He saw a flicker of a smile from Denver and continued, “I don’t know who he is, or where he comes from but he brings evil with him and he encourages evil within others.”
He saw another small, smile surface on Denver's face then it was gone and a grimace took its place.
“He is evil!” Denver spat out in disgust as he looked away. “He’s the vilest creature on earth. Not even the monsters that were created in the laboratories compare to him.” His huge chest heaved as he said the words and Oak could see that Denver was keeping his emotions in check.
Denver looked back at Oak and leaned in toward him.
“He’s like a demon following orders from the devil.” He rubbed a thumb against the side of his mouth as if the words he was saying left him with a bad taste. “He brings fear, distrust, anger, greed; he works on every unethical motive there is and he brings them out in anyone he is around who is weak enough to succumb.” He swallowed and went on, “he is a nasty manipulator.”
Oak looked back at him confused. “I don’t understand. If he is all you say and someone else guides him, then why are you with him?” His eyes were locked with Denver's.
“We have our reasons,” was all he received in reply but Oak could see that there was more, a mix of emotions from concern to anger upon Denver's face. He held his gaze waiting for more.
Denver gave Oak a look of resignation and continued. “I think he’s mad. I don't know for what reason we’ve been coerced into this journey. I know that this creature, “Rancor” as he calls himself, is an abomination. He came into my city and killed five protectors with what seemed to be little effort. No one saw what happened. I don’t know how he managed to defeat such a number alone.
“They were all peace keepers, the guards that watch and welcome strangers. They wouldn’t have attacked him of this I’m certain, so why did he kill them? I can only conclude to show his strength in heinous crimes. Rancor had no regret for what he did. Be wary of him he’s not all that he seems.”
Denver was chewing on his lip, “Rancor calls his people Lavats–people of fire. They live in the volcanic caves and hot springs.” Taking a pause he bent his head toward Oak, “a game is going on here and we are the pawns that are being controlled by the black knight and his black king.”
Denver leaned back against the tree watching Oak digest the information. “We follow him, possibly to our demise. I don’t know what awaits us. We’ll stand firm if it comes to a fight but we have a problem...” he stopped and looked intently at Oak, “he’s gained Detroit`s service.”
Denver gave a disgusted laugh after he said this. “A service not worth anything anyway but Detroit had gained the respect of Washington our leader. How I don’t know but Washington had trusted him and placed him third in command of our group and now he takes his orders from Rancor more so than from me, he tries to keep his alliance secret but I know.”
Taking a deep breath Denver looked at the forest around him. “We may be going to our deaths, I don’t know where or to what we travel so it’s hard to prepare. We must plan along the way from whatever information we can gain.”
Oak was wondering why Denver was telling him so much. Did he want an ally? Or was he using Oak as a pawn just as he’d inferred that Rancor was doing. Oak was aware that Denver had almost taken Blackthorn's life in a brutal way. It now left Blackthorn very weak with an injury that may always prove to lesson his abilities and he’d bear the scar forever. Denver had been the one to take Blackthorn down not Rancor. Was Denver playing him or attempting to recruit him.
Soon his defenders would come and descend upon the Citans. Then there’d be the possibility of a battle. He knew that Denver was aware that Oak would have many defenders, he was no fool, and he expected a fight. Was he trying to become a confidant so as to stop his band being swarmed? Or was he befriending him to gain the knowledge of how many defenders he had and how soon they would come so he could prepare to defeat them? This Rancor, was he really who Denver said he was, or was he a ploy to distract Oak from his defenders being in danger from the Citans themselves? If only he could read this Rancor better and read Denver's mind, he would be more prepared on what to decide.
Oak also leaned against the tree absorbing everything and slotting it into areas of his brain to be retrieved for future reference.
“If you expect me to suddenly become your friend you can think again!” His voice was hard with his own conviction. “You almost killed Blackthorn and now you take us as hostages. You’ve shown me nothing that suggests I should trust you.” He turned to Denver as he uttered his last words. “Or believe you.”
His face was set and his eyes cold as he looked at Denver. He wouldn’t let Denver believe that he was weak and easily persuaded. He’d need to give much more information than that to gain his trust.
Denver gave a grunt and stared aggravated into Oaks eyes. “I warn you Woodlander I’m not your enemy here. The trap I set was due to Rancor's demand.” His eyes lay heavily upon Oak's whilst Oak went over what was said. “I believe that that was part of Rancor's plan. To entrap the Woodlanders along the way and involve you in this confusing venture.”
He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation as though he’d exhausted his powers of persuasion. “We must get back. Rancor knows we’re here and suspects us but then he always suspects and he trusts no one.” With that Denver strode away toward the Citan group. Oak followed mulling over in his mind everything that Denver had told him.
As Denver passed Blackthorn he gave him a kick to wake him up. “Get up! We’re leaving.” He continued on toward the group where in a loud voice he expressed, “The Woodlander is stupid, he’ll give me no information as to how many more of them there are but I’ll get that from him in time. I have more persuasive methods that I can use.” He gave the rest a brutish smile before continuing, “For now we must make haste. We need to get more kilometres under our feet before we rest for the night. Tomorrow we'll leave the forest and travel by more relaxing means.”
Oak caught the last words and repeated them to himself. That meant they would be travelling on the lake. They would be reaching the lake soon and he wondered why he hadn’t realized that earlier. The lake was where they’d been heading all along.
Denver walked to the front of the group and beckoned that the group move on with him. They followed some more heartened at the last few words and the idea that they’d no longer have to walk but would travel in comfort which meant transportation. Once more Detroit was at Oak's side pushing him roughly forward to get Blackthorn up. He bent down and pulled Blackthorn to his feet slipping his shoulder and arm beneath helping him to return to the trek they were on.
Detroit followed pushing at both of them unbalancing Blackthorn, whilst he muttered, “you should use your feet better”.
Oak closed his mind to him and instead he watched Denver's determined face as he ploughed on through the forest. His thoughts were suddenly filled with Rancor and he quickly looked toward him. He was watching Oak and he saw Rancor start to smile, as Rancor turned away to look at Denver the smile curved into a malevolent grin. Denver had not fooled Rancor.