There were no roads in the wastes of Boeotia. Annon had wandered through many valleys surrounding the kingdoms, but he had never entered such an inhospitable land before. There was no prairie grass, only dirt and rocks and stunted shrubs. The trees were gangly and full of thorns, with wispy leaves and pollen that drifted when the wind shook the branches. There were occasional pockets of denser vegetation clustering around tiny rivulets of water. Annon rubbed the sweat from his neck, craning his head to gaze up at the burning sun.
There were spirit creatures, however, in abundance.
As he walked, Annon reached out to the life populating the prickly shrubs and weed-choked hills. Most were in the form of brown-skinned lizards that concealed themselves and studied him from the shade, or grasshoppers that hopped and flew. He sensed spirits in the millions of tiny red ants that came from clods of cracked dirt. They greeted him warily but deferentially, recognizing him for who he was. They gave him conflicting sentiments.
Welcome, Druidecht. Beware this land. They will hunt you.
Beware, Druidecht. You will not be harmed.
Your friends will all be killed.
One of Nizeera’s ears twitched as she padded near him, sniffing the air and testing it for the scent of Boeotians. His heart was heavy as stones, and he walked with a feeling of ever-mounting dread. He glanced back at the others, watching the order that Tyrus had assembled for their march through the region. Tyrus was in the center with the Kishion and Phae. Aransetis covered one flank and Paedrin the other. Baylen walked with Khiara ahead of Tyrus. Kiranrao and Hettie came up the rear, with Hettie doing her best to cover their trail and watch for signs of pursuit. Tyrus had sent Annon and Nizeera to go out in front and survey the land and find the trail. Should trouble find them, all sides would pull in toward Tyrus and await his instructions.
You are grieving.
Annon glanced down at Nizeera, seeing her saucer-like eyes boring into his. I am.
I fear that you will be reckless because of it. Do not seek your own death, Druidecht.
He sighed deeply, feeling a strange mixture of guilt and denial at her intruding thoughts. Tyrus’s speech had not filled him with dread. If anything it brought a promise of respite from the terrible pain inside his damaged heart. He dreaded the thought of never seeing Neodesha the Dryad again. Was she in Mirrowen at that moment? Was she dead? Was there a way he could be reunited with her? Would death separate them forever? He did not know. Not knowing made the pain all the worse.
The more they walked, the less the gravelly ground and shrubs bothered him. It was dusty, to be sure, and the air was dry and made his throat parched, but he found a strange beauty in the land, especially the shape of the rugged mountains deep to the north. There were no signs of dwellings, but he understood that the Boeotians lived in movable tents. They were wanderers and did not plant or harvest crops. They lived off the land and raided the kingdoms to the south when they needed more. Theirs was a guttural language and he recalled, having faced Boeotians twice in his wanderings, that they were not to be reasoned with. Their warriors were quick to attack and assume danger. Annon did not expect that he would be able to cross their kingdom without stumbling across their clans.
Nizeera, do you smell anything on the wind? Any trace at all?
She growled softly. Nothing but our own scent. The wind comes from all sides. I will smell something if it approaches us.
Annon wondered how far they had penetrated into the Boeotian lands. The day was long and hot and his legs throbbed from the pace of the walk. He glanced back repeatedly to make sure he was not outdistancing the others. He saw several talking amongst themselves as they traveled, but he felt no desire for companionship. Perhaps Tyrus knew his heart couldn’t bear it, that it was one of the reasons he had been chosen to lead the way.
A bird fluttered in the gray-blue sky, soaring overhead. He heard its thoughts come down to him as it passed. Your band is being followed, Druidecht. Others are summoned to join the pursuit. They will come at night when you cannot see them in the distance. Be warned, Druidecht. They will come at night.
Annon felt his heart constrict and stopped, holding up his hand as a warning. He did not know how many were in pursuit, but he got the sense from the bird-spirit that it was a sizable host. He looked ahead, seeing nothing but unending plains with sharp brown rocks and tumbleweeds. Pausing, he stopped and inhaled the air, tasting the dirt on his tongue. He could hear the crunch of boots as the rest of Tyrus’s band approached him.
It was hardly past noon and the Boeotians had found them already.