Vornur returned an hour later. He ate in silence. Robert let him eat before saying anything. He wasn't sure if Vornur felt awkward now with them and he did not want to risk anything. He valued the Roduran's advice, friendship, and strength. He was relieved when the Roduran finally spoke. His voice was the same as it always was.
"We will need to cross the river. The Argullians will be waiting up and down from our location. It is perhaps half a day to a point farther down where we can cross safely. It will cost us a day."
"There is no other way across?" Robert asked. "No bridge?"
"The Argullians have not allowed it," Mandu said. "They have taken workers and torn down any bridge that we have tried."
"Then finding you has been a great help," Robert replied with a slight smile. "We perhaps would have become victims ourselves had you not been here. It is good fortune for all of us."
There was a moment of silent assent and hidden meaning that then passed. Robert realized then that both Mandu and Vornur were waiting for his next statement. That Mandu acquiesced to him was not entirely unexpected given what Vornur had named him, but that Vornur, who had taught him, now deferred to him made Robert uneasy. He had relied on the Roduran's direction for two years and now found that without it he felt somewhat lost.
"Is it safe to travel along this river?" he asked them both.
"With three of us armed, we should not be troubled," Vornur replied.
"Then let us begin our way. We should travel as long as we can, even after dark, to hasten our journey. We do not know how much time is left."
Vornur stood and began to lead them downstream at his usual pace. Mandu fell in behind him and Robert after her. He thought he was being chivalrous in bringing up the rear and perhaps being there to slow Vornur down if needed, but she seemed in as good condition as the Roduran and he was the one who had to urge them to slacken the pace just a bit, and not just because of the wound in his leg that, though not healed completely, caused him little trouble. It caused him more than a bit of embarrassment, but Mandu smiled at him indicating that it was okay and he felt better. He made a mental note to pick up jogging just in case he ever needed to do this again.
The sun was beginning to set when they arrived at the place in the river where Vornur indicated it was too shallow for the Argullians to get to them. Vornur took to the air to oversee the safety of their crossing, and Robert and Mandu waded across, the water coming about to their waists as they did. When they were across they stopped for a short rest and drink.
"In this area of the forest," began Vornur, "like the forest near the caves, there are few dangers. We can travel as long as we wish and sleep where we stop in safety."
"What about food?" asked Robert, whose stomach noted that they had eaten nothing since the Argullian perhaps six hours back.
For an answer, Mandu stood up and looked around. Seeing something in a tree, she asked Robert for his bow and arrow. She fitted an arrow and aimed. There was a small squeal and then a soft thud. She handed Robert the bow and trotted a short distance away, returning with a small animal that resembled a fat, hairless squirrel.
"Pokombe," she said simply.
"Pokombe," Robert repeated to Vornur, stating it as though it was obvious.
Mandu smiled, apparently understanding the little joke. Vornur simply stared in his expressionless manner.
A few moments later they had a fire going and the creature on a stick. As they ate, Robert asked questions of Mandu. There was so much about her that he wanted to know. Why had she not wanted to marry anyone? How were her parents associated with Kor-Etath? Where did she learn to fight with a sword and use a bow and arrow? And what was it about him that had attracted her? That part had been his own ego, but he asked it anyway.
She had been as honest with him as his understanding of the language allowed. On a couple occasions Vornur had had to provide explanation for words Robert did not understand. Her grandfather had been an advisor to Kor-Etath and had brought his family to live at the palace at Jankor. He had indulged them in the books gathered there, giving them access to all the learning of Andar. In the end, this had brought the ire of Kor-Etath down on him. Apparently the history of Andar beyond the greatness of Kor-Etath had angered him. He had banished the family and killed the grandfather. They had gone to live in a forest village of the dar-Skellians. Even as a dar-Skellian, Kor-Etath was not a favored son, as his demands had become burdensome to all races. Her family had at first been unwelcome in the village, but as time passed her grandmother had achieved a sort of peace within the village so that she could raise her family there. The peace had been at a price. Her family had lived on the outskirts of the village closest to the forest and any danger that might come from there. Her father had been a great hunter and had earned respect from all the village. He had taught his family, including his eldest daughter, how to hunt and defend herself with the sword. He had hoped that her beauty and skills would allow her to marry into the family of a village elder and finally allow the family to become a true part of the village and move away from the edge. On the night before she had come of age, she had had such a terrible dream, a sort of premonition, that she knew she must leave the village. She did not want to leave her family, but she could not stay and there were none among those to whom she might be wed that appealed in any way to her. She finished by stating that she did not know why she had been so attracted to him, an outworlder, but she had, and it had felt right.
"I trust I can live up to your feelings and experience," Robert said softly.
"I do not doubt it, Kor-Eln," she said, staring into his eyes.
The faith she had already put in him made Robert both giddy and embarrassed. It was also uncomfortable to be called 'Kor-Eln.' He knew at some point he would have to speak to Vornur about it. He was certain that the mantle of 'Bringer of Light' was one he did not want to wear.
He wasn't sure how to respond to Mandu, but was saved when Vornur stood up.
"It is time to go," he said. "We have lost many hours."
Relieved, Robert quickly got to his feet. Mandu stood next to him. They fell in line and began their trek through the dark forest. They moved for about four hours before they became too tired. Despite their relative quiet, it had surprised Robert that they had not seen or heard any animals. Vornur assured him that there had been animals about, but the three of them, being in a group and larger than most, were entirely safe. They found a small area that was obscured from view by bushes and settled down to sleep. Robert lay next to Mandu, feeling her warmth. For the moment his thoughts were not on fighting a duel with a ruler who had only been wounded once in a thousand years or finding a legendary jewel that would protect him from a magic spell; he only wondered if he snored and if Mandu would mind. Then he was asleep.
They woke shortly after sunrise, refreshed themselves, then set off again. Vornur said if they quickened their pace they would leave the forest by the end of the day and be on the Great Plains of Andar. They could sleep at the forest's edge, then begin the longest part of their journey after that. Robert thought to himself that a quickened pace was one of the last things he needed, but he nodded. Then they were off.
Near midday their pace made them burst onto a herd of animals in the forest that were akin to small deer and stood about knee high. The animals began to scatter in all directions as Robert quickly fitted an arrow to his bow. He was able to get off one arrow that hit one of the animals in the left rear flank as it ran off. Vornur went after it. He returned about 15 minutes later with the creature. It had a fresh slit on its throat.
"Too slow," Vornur said to Robert when he returned. "We have more work to do with the bow and arrow. Perhaps it is best if Mandu takes them as she is more familiar with them."
Vornur's flat tone as he finished didn't make the words any easier for Robert to take. In fact, the words would have been a blow to Robert's ego had he and Mandu not already spoken of it while Vornur was gone. She had, very gently, told him that his aim was good but that it seemed he was not comfortable with the weapon. She had been so sweet about it that all he could do was concede that the bow and arrow was his least favorite weapon. It was he who had asked her to take them.
They cooked the ornam and ate it quickly, then rested for a few minutes. Mandu asked Robert, Kor-Eln, about his world. It was hard to explain it to her. There were so many things in it that he took for granted that were not present on Andar. Cars and airplanes were concepts that she could almost understand, though they were fantastical. Not having ever been mechanically inclined himself, Robert could find no real way to communicate to her how they worked. Computers were something that just did not even enter into something she could comprehend. When he compared them to a combination of books and Vornur that sat on a table, she had laughed delightedly. She did not understand, but the idea was extremely funny to her. Robert laughed with her. After over two years on Andar he found many of the things he had occupied his time with were simply unimportant. If he ever did rule Andar, he would make sure that technology remained a fantasy.
Feeling rested, the three stood up and began to move again at Vornur's pace, a near run. They covered the ground swiftly and once again surprised a herd of ornams. Robert had been focusing on the fleeing creatures when he thought of Mandu. As his head turned to her she already had an arrow fitted. An instant later it flew out, striking an ornam just behind its front leg as it turned to run. The shot was almost perfect. A moment later the orman lay dead on the ground. Robert had to admire her ability. She was tremendously gifted with the bow and arrow. They field dressed the creature, slung it over Vornur's shoulders, then were off again.
Near sunset the forest began to thin out. Vornur signaled them to stop. They gathered wood, made a fire, and began to cook the ornam.
"We are near the Great Plains," Vornur said as he slowly turned the animal. "It is maybe another hour away. Our travel will be much easier then. The way is far. Five days in the Great Plains."
"And then Gundoon," Robert said softly.
No one said anything. The city was lost not because of its location, but because no one had ventured to go there in many decades. Of those that had attempted the journey, the very few that had returned to tell their tale had never made it to the city.
"We will need to conserve water," Vornur said after a while. "It will be hot and dry. There will be one stream that we will encounter two days from now where we can drink. That will be all until we reach the forest of Gundoon."
"How safe are the Great Plains?" Mandu asked. "Can we travel at night? That will help to conserve water."
"There is little to fear there," Vornur replied. "If we sleep during the day and travel at night we need not worry."
"Then we should travel as much as we can tonight," Robert stated.
Mandu and Vornur both nodded. Filling their skin pouches at a stream and drinking their fill, the three set off. An hour later, as the light of the two suns left the sky, they exited the forest and came upon the Great Plains of Andar. They paused in the starlight, looking out over the great expanse of almost level ground filled only with small bushes and grass. There was nothing to be seen, only vast emptiness.
They were able to travel for about six more hours before exhaustion took over. They each took as small a drink of water as they could to slake their thirst, then curled up to sleep using the skin of the two ornams to cover their heads throughout the day. They endured the smell knowing that the midday sun would be too draining on them otherwise.
Two nights later they arrived at the stream. Their skin pouches were empty at this time, as were their stomachs, and they drank with abandonment. Then they sat still and waited, Mandu with an arrow at the ready. An hour after the two suns had risen she had managed to shoot four creatures. Each was about the size and shape of a large gopher and made meager fare, but far better than nothing. They were cooked over a fire made from grass and eaten quickly. The three slept through the day, drank one last time from the stream, then began the trek once more toward Gundoon. Two nights later the forest, a blackness looming against a starlit horizon, came into view. Vornur halted them.
"We must not enter the forest at night or get too close," he said. "We will sleep here and enter during daylight."
Neither Robert nor Mandu said anything. Over the last several days they had asked Vornur what he knew about Gundoon. He had told what he knew, though it seemed very little. As they looked at the darkness ahead of them, Vornur's tales of the forest of Gundoon filled their minds and it seemed that even at a distance the forest gave off an aura of malice. The three sat down.
"Many years ago," Mandu began quietly, "when I was a child, I read of an adventurer who had gone into the forest of Gundoon. With him were 20 others, all brave and strong. They were seeking the lost city. It has been rumored for generations that the lost city is that of the first Andarans, the Manturs, the lizard men. They were the only race strong enough to survive in the forest. There, safe from the other races, they hoarded their treasures. That is what the adventurer believed. Only three men came out of the forest. Half were lost on the first night, devoured by the creeping mist. Four others were killed the next day by Pantuens. Not the Pantuens that we know; a taller, stronger race of them that lived on the ground and moved with great speed. The remaining seekers retreated from the forest. The story does not say how the other four died."
"The story would have us believe the Manturs killed the other four," Vornur said after a pause.
"Who are the Manturs?" Robert asked. "I do not recall reading anything of them."
"There is little written of them," Mandu said. "They are spoken of only as images from a time long past."
"In truth, there is little known about them. Many times they were mentioned as a myth to scare younglings into behavior," Vornur continued. "They were a powerful race and tolerated none. Yet for all their strength, the teachings that mentioned them tell that they chose not to rule Andar and instead kept themselves secreted away. Those that saw them were lucky to live. Little more than tales, Kor-Eln. There are no records of anyone having ever seen a Mantur since before the Skellians ruled Andar."
"But if they were still alive," Robert said slowly, "Gundoon would be the best place for them to live. Is that why Kor-Etath has not ventured to the forest? Does he believe the Manturs still live?"
"If they do, they would still be the most powerful race on Andar," Vornur answered without truly answering.
"Powerful enough to help overthrow Kor-Etath?"
"The Manturs allied with none," Mandu said. "If they are in Gundoon, it is on purpose."
"If they even exist anymore," Robert added, a little disheartened. A powerful ally was what he felt he really needed.
"Let us hope they do not," Vornur said. "That is a danger no living creature has known."
There was little more said. If Gundoon was every bit as dangerous as the tales would lead them to believe, then the Manturs were the most dangerous of all races on Andar. Encountering them would be the stuff of nightmares. The three lay down to sleep. Despite his exertions during the last week, Robert found it hard to go to sleep.
"What is it, Kor-Eln?" Mandu whispered. "Why do you not sleep?"
"I don't know for certain," he whispered back. "Part of me wants to jump up and run into the forest, to get the Jewel of Andar, and rush back to face Kor-Etath. Part of me is afraid that we will all die at the hands of the Manturs."
"You believe the Manturs live in the forest?" she asked quietly.
"I believe Vornur does as well. I have lived with him for more than two years and know a little of his ways. I have not heard him deny anything that he did not have reason for. Yet he has not ever said the Manturs do not still live. If he thought they were gone, he would say so. Mandu, when I first learned of Kor-Etath from the Skellians, they told me he had been wounded but once in a thousand years. They have been fighting him for a thousand years, Mandu, but have only wounded him once. Yet even he has not dared to enter the forest. The mist and creatures of the forest would not frighten one such as he. If I would face them, certainly he would as well. But how am I, are we, supposed to go into the forest where he would not? He must know that we have gone, and he has not tried to stop us. He is certain either that what we seek does not exist or that we will never return to face him. He is certain that the Manturs still rule in Gundoon."
She sat up and looked at him. Despite the lack of a moon in the Andaran sky, the stars were many and shined down bright enough for Robert to make out the concern on her face. She looked at him for a moment, saying nothing, then raised a hand to his cheek.
"What else?" she asked. "You have fought in The Contest, facing races that would not have hesitated to kill you. I do not believe that the Manturs are your greatest fear."
He looked at her and managed a thin smile.
"Yes, you are right, Mandu. I wish I knew the words in your tongue to explain it."
"Think of the word," she said.
Robert fixed the word in his mind.
"Destiny," she said in Andaran. "Why do you fear yours?"
For some reason her ability to penetrate his mind did not bother him.
"I am afraid that you and Vornur are right, that I will have to rule Andar, at least for a time." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I'm not a ruler, Mandu. On my world I was just another person, one of many. I'm not special. I'm not as afraid of failing as I am at succeeding."
"You will not be like him, Kor-Eln."
"How do you know that? How do you know what I will become if I succeed? I've never done this before. I might be worse."
She smiled at him so broadly that he thought she was about to laugh and wake up Vornur.
"I know," she began in a voice that resonated as much in his head as in his ears, "because I have chosen you and you me. Your heart does not beat for the throne or long for killing. You did not choose this quest for glory or honor or even to appease the Skellians. Vornur does not travel with you because he seeks to be an advisor to the next ruler of Andar. What you were on your other world does not matter here, now. It may even be of benefit in that you know how it is to be ruled and not the ruler. I do not know what the future holds, Kor-Eln. I only know that you, I, and even Kor-Etath cannot run from our destiny. Every path we take is the one we are meant to be on. Just as I thought I was running away from being wed, only to find you, you shall find that whatever lies in the forest of Gundoon is there for you."
Robert could only look at her. He wondered how he had lived as long as he had without her, and how he would ever live if she were not with him.
"I love you, Mandu," he said in English.
She looked quizzically at him. He said the words again in his mind, focusing on them. Her look changed and softened.
"I love you, Kor-Eln," she said in halting English.
He held her in his arms and together they fell asleep.
Early the next morning Vornur woke them. The Roduran said nothing as the three stood and stretched. Robert sensed the unease within his friend and mentor. He turned to Mandu.
"We will go together," she said firmly, reading his thoughts.
He smiled at her, thankful for her companionship, skill, and support.
"Let us go, Vornur," he said. "We must travel as far as we can before sunset."
The forest was two hours away, which had given them a chance to hunt a couple simems, the gopher-like creatures, and eat before entering. Though the food did not fill them completely, within the forest they did not want to risk hunting. At the edge of the forest they slowed their pace and entered at a walk. The sounds were like any other forest, with birds, insects, and other creatures making noises in the beginning of the day. Robert caught himself more than once holding his breath and turning at every sound with a hand on his sword. Mandu walked between them and seemed the most calm. Her dar-Skellian vision let her see past the trees and other obstacles to help avoid ambush.
"We are being watched," she whispered about an hour into the forest.
"By what?" Robert asked.
"A small Pantuen, to the right. It has been following us for several minutes."
Robert and Vornur slowly turned to the right. The trees had already become so clustered together from the edge of the forest that seeing any distance in any direction was difficult, but as they moved they caught a glimpse of a fast-moving Pantuen, on the ground, about 50 feet away. They continued walking. A few minutes later there was a space among the trees. Vornur suddenly stood straight up and turned toward the Pantuen. It froze in open view, then turned and ran at amazing speed deep into the forest.
"They will be more wary of us," Vornur said softly. "If they cannot surprise us, they may not try to come for us at all."
Robert left unsaid what he was thinking. There was another option. If they could not surprise them, they would come in force. He wondered if Vornur and Mandu thought the same thing.
They encountered only one other creature of significance that day. While resting under a tree, Robert happened to look up toward the sun when the thing came into view. It blended in so perfectly with the dark green leaves of the tree it was on that at first he thought he was seeing things from hunger or exhaustion. When it was seen it paused, just long enough to allow Robert time to tense up. When it came at him, he dodged out of the way. The thing landed with a thump where he was. A tail whipped out toward his legs. Robert jumped back from his prone position on the ground, but the tail hit his left leg, leaving a series of small scratches. The thing pulled its tail back to make another swipe as Robert quickly scrambled to his feet, unsheathing his sword as he did.
The thing paused, giving Robert an opportunity to look at his attacker. It looked, in many respects, like a large snake, but a closer look showed a difference. Instead of just sliding along, the thing had numerous small legs at its sides, like a centipede. Some of them were tucked in, while others were out. Robert understood what had made the scratches on his leg. As the thing coiled up to get in position for a strike or charge, Robert looked to Vornur and Mandu. He saw Vornur with a hand on her arm, restraining her. The Roduran was testing him.
"I get it," Robert said loud enough for them to hear.
Robert pulled his dagger out with his left hand. Doubly armed, he approached the creature. It reared up at him, much like a snake, and hissed, its arms waving at him. Robert let fly with his dagger at the creature. His aim was true, even though it had little force. The dagger stuck in perhaps an inch, but it was enough. As the creature looked down at it, Robert moved in with his sword. He severed the head with one swing and then backed away as the thing, headless, writhed in the throes of death. A minute later it was over.
"Well done," Vornur said as he stood. "I have not seen the likes of this animal before. How did you see it?"
Mandu walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. She looked at his leg. There was no sign of any poison, only scratches.
"Chance, luck," Robert answered.
"Destiny," Mandu whispered. "Had it moved for one of us, our party would be one less now."
Robert shrugged.
"Maybe," he answered back.
He walked over to the creature and retrieved his dagger. He wiped the blade in the grass, then wiped his sword and sheathed them both.
"Do you think this thing is edible?" Robert asked Vornur.
"All creatures are edible," Vornur replied. "Let us cut it and take it with us. Before nightfall we can make a fire to cook it. I do not wish to attract attention at this time."
They cut three pieces from the creature, each about eight inches long. The girth of the creature was such that each piece, when cooked, would still weigh more than a pound and would be enough to give them a good meal for the first time in days. The rest they left, hoping the smell would distract other creatures in the forest that might not be as easy to dispatch.
As the suns drew close to the horizon and were lost amid the trees, they gathered wood for a fire and cooked the meat. It had little taste and even fully cooked was the consistency of jelly, but food was food and they ate it without much complaint, though without enthusiasm. They moved for another half hour or so to get them clear of the fire and the smell of the meat, then found sturdy trees and climbed into them. They used strips of cloth and branches to make sure they were lashed securely to the trees, then tried their best to get comfortable. A short time later, after the suns had fully set, the forest was dark.
They had started to get comfortable when a noise woke them. In the stillness of the dark forest it sounded like a small stream, but it was moving and coming closer. They watched as a mist came slowly over the ground. It moved in and around the base of the trees, always coming back into a thick whitish cloud.
"The creeping mist," Mandu whispered.
They watched it in silence. It moved toward them, its shapeless form seeming to send tendrils out to the sides in search of prey. It was perhaps 30 feet from the front to the back and at any point in time at least another 10-15 feet wide in any of several places. It came to the tree where they were and seemed to pause. Part of it seemed to begin coming up the tree. Robert reflexively moved, trying to get away from this silent killer. But it apparently wasn't solid enough to support itself and could get no farther than about a foot up the trunk. Curious, Robert broke off a small twig and tossed it down. With a speed that startled him, the entire mist converged on it in a solid white glob. A moment later it returned to its previous form and slowly moved away. The twig was intact but glistened now in the starlight.
"How does one kill something like that?" Robert asked Vornur. "It has some substance, but no shape."
"When it chased the twig, it had substance then. I would think that would be the time to strike."
"Strike where?"
Vornur looked at him without answering, the Roduran equivalent to so many things, but in this case a shrug of the shoulders. Robert turned to Mandu.
"As many places as you could," she answered. "As quickly as you could."
Robert found more reason to love her every minute. Her sense of humor was refreshing, and her calmness in the face of danger was reassuring. For the first time Robert allowed himself to believe that with her at his side he might just succeed.
Robert slept little that night. The forest was so quiet that every noise woke him from his almost comfortable position. Three more creeping mists passed beneath their tree during the night, though Robert was only sure that one was different from the others, being much smaller while the others were all about the same size. He was also slowly being overcome by a sense of closing danger. By the time light began to permeate the foliage around them he was feeling like a great weight was on him.
"Let us go," he said in a hurried whisper.
"What is wrong?" Mandu asked.
"I do not know," Robert replied. "I just feel that we need to go, fast."
They were quickly down the tree and heading off into the forest. Mandu took a moment to look around but could see nothing.
"He has a sense," Vornur explained. "We must hurry."
They went off at almost a dead run. Branches scraped them as they went, but they did not slow down. They paused long enough for a drink at a stream and to refill their skin pouches, then were running again. An hour later Mandu spoke.
"Pantuens are behind us," she said through breaths.
Robert glanced behind them. The trees were thick, but every few seconds he caught a glimpse of a dark brown shape. They were gaining.
"We cannot outrun them," Vornur said over his shoulder. "We must find a place to make a stand."
As they looked and continued to run, Mandu informed them every few moments of the situation. There were at least a dozen of them. They had come in strength.
An opening loomed ahead and when the three got in it they stopped. With Mandu between them, Robert and Vornur pulled their daggers and swords and stood back to back. Mandu told them the Pantuens were arranging themselves in a circle around them. There were more than twenty now.
"Stay low," Robert said to them. "And strike at the stomach."
One came out of the trees. Like the other Pantuens it was dark brown and hairless, but it was much larger, perhaps eight feet tall as it stood on its hind legs. The arms were shorter while the legs were longer. These were not arboreal. Robert hoped they had not developed too much more density in their bodies from their cousins. If they were as strong as they looked and tough, this was going to be a short battle.
Robert reacted, swinging his dagger above his head even as he ducked. It caught something, stuck for a moment, then continued moving. A Pantuen had moved in from the side. As the creature howled, Robert kicked at its stomach. It was not as soft as the stomach of the one he had fought, but the kick was still greatly effective. The creature doubled over. A thrust from Vornur found its heart. The bushes and trees around them began to rustle.
"They will rush us now," Vornur said.
Robert put his hand behind his back and handed his dagger to Mandu.
"Strike as many as you can," he said without taking his eyes from the Pantuen in front of him. A tear came