With first light Denver was up on his feet and nudging Blackthorn to get up, Oak was already standing and leaning over to help the boy. Denver looked for Detroit and found him once more standing next to Rancor. Today was not a day that he would place any trust in Detroit. He searched the rest for Flint and found him staring back, his face tight. He understood his friend's worries but for now nothing could be done. He called him over, watched him grab a metal mug, pour in cold coffee from the night before and make his way over.
Flint smiled at him but it didn’t reach his eyes, they were hard and drawn. “As much as I hate coffee,” he muttered. “I do enjoy the stimulating effect it has upon me.”
Denver gave a small laugh and placed a hand upon his good friend's shoulder. “I would make you a hot pot of it but we must get moving we’re to be at the point by noon.”
His friend eyed him and nodded, “Do you want me to watch over our prisoners?” he asked. Denver smiled, he enjoyed the understanding and close communication between the two of them.
“Detroit has made plans with Rancor; I wish I knew what they were. I can't pick anything up from Rancor other than his delight in the chance of success and all I get from Detroit is his hunger for power. Nothing that helps me make plans.
“Watch over the Woodlanders, today may be one in which we can expect an attack from the rest of them. Their numbers are probably great and they’ll come as an army so keep your wits about you.” Flint nodded and Denver carried on, “If they come as a large group I will quickly be aware of them and know from which direction they are coming but if they split my time for registering where they are will not be as adept. However, I will give as much warning as I can.”
Once more Flint nodded his head.
“This Woodlander is peaceful though,” Denver continued, “he doesn't want a battle. He wants only the safety of his people even if it is at his expense. I know you feel this in him too.”
“Yes,” Flint replied, “I gained something of an understanding of him during our walk through the forest.”
Denver looked into his friends eyes, Flint respected Oak. He sensed that Flint felt a feeling of betrayal toward Denver because of it. His admiration of Oak tore at his faith in the Citans. Smiling Denver dropped his hand from Flint's shoulder.
“Help bring him onto our side Flint,” he encouraged. “He is more powerful than we are aware.” With this he strode in amongst his group.
“Today we travel to the point. Take what is left of the food and eat whilst we walk.”
Turning he faced Detroit. “Detroit you will make sure that nothing is left behind and kick out the remains of the fire.”
He saw Detroit's face darken at what he thought were lowly orders and Denver smiled as he turned away. He had every intention of making his life the living hell that he deserved it to be; he would make sure he treated him worse from here on.
He watched as backpacks were slung onto shoulders. From the corner of his eye he saw Detroit kicking the ashes and stomping the glowing embers in anger. He smiled again, he needed some form of amusement and he’d enjoy using Detroit as a distraction. The more he made Detroit hate him, the more likely he was to make a mistake, and then Denver would be upon him like a beast on prey.
He led the group with his rifle armed and ready. He carried it in his hand and quickly sent it to his shoulder when he heard a sound. The sounds were always from the band he was with, tripping up and cursing. He wondered how he managed to have such a cumbersome group who were so heavy on their feet. Perhaps in the future (if they had one) he should have one of the girls teach them ballet so they could be balanced and more agile. The vision made him laugh out loud and the boys beside him gave him a sidelong look that insinuated “he's losing it”. Was he losing it? Were they going to lose everything?
He smiled at the boys to placate them and said “I was just thinking of a joke I’d heard–if a girl is alone in the forest is she truly alone, or do the other sides of her personality count as many more?”
The boys laughed and one of them turned to him and said, “That's my girl alright! She asks me if I'm seeing any other girls, I tell her why would I? There are enough of them in you to keep me busy for a lifetime!”
The boys laughed again and nodded, it was an old joke but one that still bound them together in their bewilderment of the female sex. Denver looked at them still chuckling and was glad that the heavy air was lifted even if it was only temporarily.
Denver thought of Boston. She didn't seem difficult to understand, there was nothing mysterious about her. Perhaps that was why she was of so little interest to him. Then again, he didn't think that mystery was what he was looking for. The chemistry had to be there, emotions stirred, senses heightened, making you yearn. Longing for something always made it more special when it was finally yours.
He’d always wanted to have a gun, had searched and searched, hoping he would at least find one of the military guns but every gun he found had been crushed beyond repair. One day whilst digging through rubble as usual to find supplies, he’d found a basement full of food and clothing, useful goods. It had been someone’s storage. He'd found a locked box, broken it open and found within it a carefully wrapped rifle. It was an old reproduction, garishly fancy with its silver but it worked and it was now his. To him it was like finding treasure, there was nothing else he had ever wanted since his dad had told him of his own trips with Denver’s grandfather to hunt rabbits and deer. He’d told him how good a shot his grandfather was and he, his father, had become just as good. Denver had practiced every day after he found the rifle. For three days he used thirty precious bullets that he had found in the locked box and he too succeeded in becoming a good shot.
They had been trekking through the remainder of the forest for a while when he noticed the thinning of the trees. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, he would be glad to be out of it and in the open air. He picked up the pace eager to exit past the last tree.
When his step took him out onto the grass of the point he felt triumphant, one part of the journey was over, now for the next. He continued to walk to the cliff edge and stared across the broad expanse of the lake. Taking two deep breaths he scanned from one side to the other and saw nothing, nothing but water and the trees they had just exited. His group were beside him looking around them. They too saw only the huge open area of grass with cliff drops on all sides of twenty feet to the lake below and water seeming to stretch to infinity.
“There’s no one here!” Detroit looked at Rancor in question. He wildly looked from side to side, as if he might have missed something the first time. Rancor smiled and sat himself down.
“We shall wait here. All close together if you please.” His yellowed teeth took on a particularly slimy look in the bright light of the sun. Denver indicated to the others to sit down. They may as well rest until whomever Rancor was waiting for arrived.
Some of the group soon fell asleep, snoring loudly because they were on their backs and he nodded to those beside any snorers to give them a push with their boot. This made the offenders wake temporarily and turn onto their sides, rewarding everyone else with grunts and then silence. Rancor continually stared at him with a foul smile upon his lips. He felt like taking the butt of his rifle and hitting him across the head, he found him irritating and obnoxious. Shaking himself inwardly he reminded himself not to let his emotions be at someone else's mercy. He looked away toward Oak and noticed that he sat cross legged in a trance.
How foolish Denver was, he’d become caught up in his dislike of Rancor and hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on in the distance. He could feel it now, air moving, others approaching. Were they Woodlanders? They were getting closer. He looked to the trees, nothing. They were still travelling toward them, they were close but they were not on the ground. His vision was disturbing, he could see clouds.
They were in the air! His eyes shot upwards at the same time as Oak's to see the huge dirigible that was coming toward them; it was dropping through the clouds, losing altitude. The giant airship moved by propellers. The airship was heading in their direction.
He was shocked, he couldn’t believe it. Rancor was being aided by the Aviatilians–the people of the air. Oak too was staring at Denver in surprise. Denver quickly got to his feet, he knew Rancor's eyes were following him but now was not the time to worry; he had to talk with Flint and Oak. By the time he reached them they were on their feet.
Denver looked at Flint and then at Oak. “What do you know of the Aviatilians?” he asked Oak.
“We know very little of them since they cannot land their airship in the forest. I don't know them or their ways, however, they have I hear, always been peaceful. So why would they be bound to Rancor?”
“That, I do not know,” Denver replied. “They only land to pick up supplies; their airship can carry everything they need so their time in our company is usually brief, for a few days at the most. We’ve been happy to share our fruit and vegetables with them and they in return have caused us no problems. Now though, this is a problem if they have joined forces with Rancor or could it be that they are the same as us? That they have no choice but to play the game?”
“And just how bound are you?” Oak questioned, he was watching him carefully and Denver knew he was opening his mind to sense his own reactions and feelings. He rewarded him with nothing, just a small smile and then looked up to the airship. He concentrated on the airship above them but he could gather nothing other than there were many on board.
He watched Oak close his eyes and just as quickly open them again. “They are hard to read but perhaps once we are with them, they will be easier to understand and we can formulate a plan from there?”
Now Denver's eyebrows went up. Was the Woodlander offering to work with him? He could see Flint move uncomfortably, having two people with the gift was unusual but for two of them to be beside him was making him uneasy.
Denver looked at Rancor who was also on his feet and pulling Detroit to his side. “Let’s see what the slime Rancor has arranged for us.” He strode away quickly to avoid the descending airship.
By the time he reached Rancor, he approached a fidgety, excited boy; he was staring up at the airship in awe and admiration. Denver suppressed the disgust he felt for this boy yet again.
“So Rancor, is this the transportation you promised?”
Rancor's smile was almost reaching his ears and Denver could have sworn that he could see demonic laughter in his eyes.
“Yes, yes indeed it is, indeed it is.” he repeated, more to himself than to Denver.
He left Denver with no doubt, that Rancor and probably his leader were both insane. They were one step closer to whatever Rancor and the Lavat leader had planned and it made him uncomfortable to think what reception they had concocted for them.
“Tell everyone to get out of the way so the airship can land.” Rancor ordered and Denver called their attention.
“Move out of the way, the airship is going to land.”
Hastily they moved away as they looked up to see the great airship gradually descending vertically, it was surprisingly quiet.
With the ship on the ground, Denver told his group to follow Rancor who was already waiting for the falling ramp to reach the ground in order to board. They dutifully followed the hunched over figure with Detroit at his side. Rancor was mumbling to Detroit but the words were unintelligible because they were softly spoken. The rest of the group were silent as they waited their turn to step onto the ramp into the huge airship.
He left them to their task and wandered around the large open point. He had a feeling of being watched and he wanted to get an idea of from where and at what distance. He slowly did a sweep from one side of the point to the other, searching the bushes and trees that edged the forest. There was no one that he could see. Turning he looked at Oak, Oak was searching the woods too, he looked confused. Swinging his eyes they rested on Denver and they both turned to look out at the lake.
If they hadn’t both looked at that very instant they would have missed it, the object that they saw at the opposite point as it came out of the bay and disappeared around the corner. It was a small boat and he knew it contained two boys and a girl (he sensed a girl who was there against her will). When he looked at Oak again, he didn’t understand the pained expression on his face, a mix of anger and distress. It was the first time Oak had shown emotion and Denver realized it was because of the girl.
**********
Elm awoke before the first light of dawn had approached the sky. He moved his body to stretch the limbs that had been folded against the tree he’d slept in. He looked blearily about him. He’d heard very little that night other than the usual grunts and growls from the night creatures. Feeling well rested and content with himself, he sat for a while going over what he would do that day.
First he would find the Citans and follow them out of the forest making sure they were gone for good. Although, now he thought about it, he wondered just how they were going to traverse the lake. If they planned to swim they had better watch out for the envillions that would soon swarm them and enjoy such a large meal. The thought of Oak being finished off by the huge vicious fishes brought delight to his eyes but it was soon squashed when he realized that the Citans wouldn't be that stupid and obviously had some other means to get across the lake. He wasn't sure what that would be; perhaps they already had boats waiting there. He didn't really care how they travelled, he just wanted them gone.
In the grey of morning he descended the tree and dropped lightly to his feet at its base. He scoured the forest around him, still curious as to where Pine was. He didn't trust him, he might suddenly pop out from behind the nearest tree and jump upon him. However, Pine didn't and he gradually made his way to where the Citans had last made camp.
It took him a little while to find it, they had done a good job of concealing that they’d been there. Besides the overturned dirt and grass upon the remnants of what had been the fire, there was little else other than depressed leaves and a few broken twigs.
He followed their route, watching carefully for a leaf sunk into the earth and a scuff of soil from a boot. It was a slow process as he didn't want to come upon them too quickly, giving himself away as he almost had the day before. By the time he finally caught up with them they were already at the point. He stared at them from well within the trees, noting where the Citan leader was and dropping even further back and away from him.
He decided to climb a tree and wait to see what would happen. He felt more comfortable from his elevated position as he was well hidden. Although, now his vision was more occluded by the foliage of the canopy he sat in. Still, he saw no sign of Pine. He didn't like how he was feeling, he was uneasy and he knew it had to do with Pine. Where was he? Why didn't he just show himself? He was sure that he would have followed Oak but he hadn't come across him or any sign that he might have been there.
Disgruntled with his un-obliging enemy he continued his vigil of sitting in the trees. He could see the Citans were sat also, waiting for something. He saw the leader move and talk to another Citan. It was then, he espied Oak holding up Blackthorn. His heart lifted at the thought that he would soon be rid of him forever and happily, he himself hadn’t had to lift a finger.
He noticed sudden movement within the band and wondered what all the scrambling was about as they jumped up to their feet, but then he couldn’t see everything because his view was blocked by the leaves. When he finally saw the huge airship descending to land, its movements slow and steady in its descent, he was surprised. Its giant size was not encumbering at all as it landed as lightly as a falling leaf.
He hadn’t thought fully about how they were going to travel from the point. He hadn’t even taken in the fact that there were sudden cliff drops from all sides of the point and no direct access to the water. The airship made sense and he smiled at not having figured out that it was their only means of travel. They would’ve gone to the bay if they were travelling by water.
He was shocked at the sight of the large airship. He would not have thought that the Aviatilians would be involved. He’d considered that the Lakellers might have been coerced into helping them travel. They would do anything for goods and antiquities but the Aviatilians had rules that they followed and one of them was to allow no-one, other than Aviatilians onto their ship.
He patiently waited until most of the Citan's had boarded the airship. His eyes were piercing through the forest when he saw Blackthorn gingerly climbing up the ramp with Oak's aid. Elm saw them vanish into the ship with the Citan leader. The ramp was raised and finally the door closed. The airship ascended until the canopy obscured it from his view. Nothing was left except the open point and the depressions in the grass that had once held a massive airship on its ground.
He remained in the tree for a further five minutes curious as to where the Citans and Aviatilians were going. The curiosity was brief, he had other things to arrange now and one of them was to make himself leader. He’d almost forgotten Pine as he was descending the tree and halfway down he stopped and peered about the forest below to make sure he was not suddenly going to be accosted by him. He reached the ground with no problems, no Pine, only the quiet of the forest.
Tying his rope back about his waist he gathered himself together for the run back to the defenders. He had his story already in mind having gone over it many times. They’d become well rehearsed lines. The day seemed fresher to him than any other and he took deep breaths of the woodsy scent that pervaded the air. His body was tingling with his excitement. He would never forget this day; he would record it in the historical archives that Oak kept. They would be his now, he would be the writer of the events and this would be marked as one of the most important, the day he became leader.
He’d been running for a while perhaps almost an hour when he became aware that something was different in the forest, he came to a halt and scanned the trees and bushes around him. He saw nothing, no movement, no sound but he knew that he was not alone.
“Pine!” he yelled, “I know you’re there. Stop this foolishness and show yourself immediately.”
Pine stepped out from behind the tree that obscured his presence.
“I’m here, Elm.” Elm smiled, his mind was already planning the demise of Pine and his sad tale to tell the defenders. ”Why are you hiding?” he asked, indicating that Pine should move toward him.
“Perhaps, to watch you, Elm, to see what you are up to, what game you’re playing. What game are you playing, Elm?” Pine was warily moving toward him.
“What game? Why would I be playing a game? There is much at stake here, we have lost two of our clan members, our great leader...” he almost choked on the words but recovered himself. “We are in a difficult situation, we have no guidance, and we need a new leader.”
Pine was coming closer now and Elm was itching to grab his sword to pierce him through but he knew he must wait, wait until he was near, unsuspecting, keep talking, and keep him distracted.
“And who do you suggest we promote to be our new leader, Elm?”
Elm, didn’t like the way he said his name, the sarcasm and sneer upon Pine's face was goading him and it took an effort to brush it aside.
“That is for the rest of the defenders to vote upon and who puts himself forth to be considered.”
He was watching Pine's every move carefully, checking to see if Pine was as ready to reach for his sword as Elm, himself was. He saw Pine cock his head to the side quizzically and show a slow sardonic smile.
“And would you be putting yourself forward, Elm?”
He was getting irritated at the way Pine was using his name at the end of every question, saying it as though it was something repulsive.
“If the defenders should want me to be their leader I wouldn’t refuse them. They’re my clan and I respect their choices.”
“You think they would choose you, Elm?” Pine was almost within striking distance now and Elm's fingers were twitching in eagerness.
“I have been a faithful defender, I have proved myself. Yes, they would choose me.”
Pine stopped and gave an acerbic snicker. “So you want to be leader do you, Elm?”
Elm was becoming frustrated at the game that Pine was playing with him, he was still out of reach for a fatal blow and Elm was not going to take the risk of being beaten by him. He may be a better fighter than Elm, he wasn't sure. He had to rethink what he was to do, Pine was one step ahead of him so far, and he needed the advantage.
“Why would I think of being leader Pine, when we already have a leader, alive with the Citans?”
He could see his new course took Pine by surprise and his face was suddenly occupied with other thoughts of disquiet. Pine's face was rigid now as he stared back at Elm and Elm had to stop a tick of a smile that wanted to place itself at the corner of his mouth. He’d baited him.
“Why do you stand there when there is much for us to discuss about Oak and how we are to save him from the Citans. Come Pine let us put our heads together and consider all the angles that we can use to make an effective rescue possible.” Elm's voice had softened in what he hoped was a coaxing and encouraging invitation.
Pine's eyes narrowed as he studied Elm but still he didn’t step any closer. Elm was thinking he would have to step forward himself but he didn't like the idea. What if Pine suddenly pulled out his sword and impaled him upon it? He would have no time to save himself and Pine could tell the defenders that it was in self defence that he’d killed Elm, since that was what he was going to tell the defenders after he killed Pine.
He was in luck, Pine was stepping toward him once more, and he would soon be within striking distance. With eager eyes he stared into Pine's, wondering if he had any inkling that he might be walking to his death. Elm tried to quiet his heart, as it beat faster, preparing his body for the rush of action it was about to take. He watched Pine approach the invisible mark that Elm had set for himself to withdraw his sword and strike Pine down. He waited.
Drawing in a breath at the very point he’d imagined his attack and Pine standing no more than a sword and arms length away, his hand hovered above his sheathed sword. With a quick movement he went to the hilt and was suddenly grasped in a painful hold from behind. Swinging around in agitation whilst he fought off the burdensome object upon his wrist, he came face to face with Cedar.
The gratified smile on Cedar's face made Elm want to spit at him.
“What are you doing you fool?” he raged.
“Saving the life of a fellow defender.” Cedar replied, leaning toward Elm as he twisted his hand back, watching Elm wince in pain.
“I was not going to attack Pine! What would make you think such a thing?” Elm had to bluff; there was no other way as he was now afraid that he would be struck down by either Cedar or Pine.
“Then why were you going for your sword Elm?” came the words of Pine behind him.
Elm stopped his fight for his hand and twisted his head to look back at Pine, his mind scrambling for ideas.
Defenders were coming forth from all sides of the forest now and they were all looking at him with distrust. Elm felt a surge of panic rise within him and quickly suppressed it. He had to keep calm, he had to keep the bluff going or he’d lose his life.
“You’re mistaken Pine! I wasn’t going to my sword but to my bag. I’m hungry and felt the need of a melini tablet to aid my discussion with you. My need for food was fogging up my brain.”
“There was more than that fogging up your brain, Elm!” Again, Elm cringed at the disdain in the pronunciation of his name from Pine's lips.
“I assure you there was not!” he spat back at him.
“We have no time for this!” Pine retorted giving a wave aside with his hand. “Your fate will be decided upon later. It will be brought before all the defenders to discuss. After which a vote shall be taken as to what is to be done with you!” Pine's eyes were filled with hatred and Elm took a quick deep breath to quiescent his fear.
“Cedar, place Elm with one of the other defenders. I need you with me. We have little time and a lot to discuss.” Pine was walking away and indicating to the other defenders to gather around him.
“Hemlock!” Cedar shouted.
Elm smiled, a chance he thought, I have another chance. Who said they can prove anything, he could tell them their view of what he was doing was askew, that he’d no intentions of injuring Pine. He could sway them to think that Pine's own intentions were to be leader and Pine was trying to get him out of the way so there would be no opposition. Pine wanted control and wasn't he taking control now? Ordering the defenders around like he was already their leader? Pine was the one who wanted to lead the Woodlanders Elm would say he was the victim here.
New ideas presented themselves one after another as he watched Hemlock walking toward him. Pine’s words barely came to his ears.
“Tie his hands behind his back and never take your eyes away from him. He is cunning and will escape at any opportunity.”
Cedar had released his hold on Elm's wrist as he saw Hemlock nod his head. Cedar left him to join Pine, whilst Hemlock tied a rope around one of Elm's hands. Looking at Elm he gave him a knowing smile, then he took Elm's arm behind his back and grabbing the other wrist tied them loosely together.