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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 34: Out Of Nowhere
Suddenly there was a noise from the trees behind the fellowship. They all turned to look.
“More wolves?” Gib wondered.
But it wasn’t wolves. Stumbling out of trees came what looked to be a Classic LEGOland knight. It was Malder Peregal.
“Peregal?” said Gib, surprised.
“Some friend of yours?” Anardan said turning to Gib.
“Not really.” said Gib. “What are you doing here, Peregal?”
“I was…I got lost.” he replied lamely, “And then I heard your cries in the distance.”
“What? You came in here alone?”
“Not alone,” said the knight in an indignant tone, “I had my horse, Phirian, with me. But the blasted creature ran off in the night and I got stuck in one of those traps.”
“What on earth were you doing in the Neverwood to begin with?”
“Well,” said Malder, looking sheepishly at the snow, “I was following you of course. To make certain you didn’t return. And as for the rest of you characters…” Malder said addressing the whole of the fellowship, “I don’t know what your ties to this man, to this Gib are, but be warned. He is a treacherous man and I will have no part in your doings if you have joined with him.”
The company was silent, dumb from shock at the man’s apparent arrogance.
“You really have no idea what we’re doing here do you?” Shainya practically spit the words out, “We’re trying to save Dametreos!”
“Oh yes,” said Malder with disdain, “I know all about that. I overheard your conversation that first night before I got lost. Sounds like a great hoax if you ask me! I don’t believe a word of it!”
“Now see here!” said sir Dractor, gripping his sword.
Bjarn sighed, wearily. His fellowship didn’t need this. Not now.
“Now calm down everyone. We need to get to some real shelter quickly. I don’t want to be under these trees if that lightning strikes down. I need all able hands to help make a sling for Reno and another for Gib. Anardan already has some materials. Collect what else you need, but don’t leave the path. You!” Bjarn said, turning to Malder, “You can help. We’ll talk later.”
Bjarn turned to Gib. “I get the feeling you have some previous experience with our new arrival.”
“You don’t want to know.” said Gib, “I’m sorry about this Bjarn. I never thought the Neverwood could be this destructive. Anyway, I’ve sent Griffin to see if he can’t find the horse. It may be of some service.”
And the fellowship began to get busy. Bjarn was flabbergasted. More people dropping in? It just was not right. This strange knight had, as his first act, tried to turn the members of the Fellowship against each other!
Anardan returned to the remains of the sled. Taking an axe, he shattered the pikes at the bottom of the pit, then slid down the side. He cut splints for the injured men, and tossed them up to Voolmark, who tied them on. Taking a spare cloak from a bundle, Anardan and Aros fashioned a stretcher for Reno. All of the supplies they could carry were loaded into the back frames. The rest were left with the shattered sled in the pit.
The sleet quickly turned to snow, wet snow, coming down harder then ever. The company found refuge in a copse of spruce, taking shelter under the thick branches. Only then, did they notice. Peregal had disappeared.
“Hey now!” said Sir Dractor, “Where’s that snippy LEGOlander gotten off to?”
“I don’t know.” said Bjarn, “But we can’t go looking for him now. The storms getting worse and we need to get to shelter.”
No one argued. The fellowship had already formed up an extensive dislike for the knight. And Gib, who knew he ought to help his brother, kept silent as well. Doubting that he could convince them to search for the wayward baron.
“There, I’ve got it!” Aros cried, securing the last strap on the littler for Gib, “Here, help me hoist him onto it.”
Gib grunted in pain as they set him down on the sling. And immediately they set out for the ruins. The clouds hung dark over the Neverwood, cutting off any light that might have penetrated through the leaves. The wind whistled hauntingly through the trees, like a school of sirens or a barrow of ghosts. And now and then, there would be a crack of thunder and the forest would brighten for an instant, with a light like the noon day sun.
Gib tried to guide them, but Jackal was the one really guiding the way. They trudged on, time seeming to distort around them. How long had they been walking? Surely they had passed a mile by now.
In the end the fellowship didn’t realize they had arrived until they were right in among the ruins. A flash of lightning illuminated the clearing for an instant, and revealed in the moment, the dark gray spires and crumbled towers of the Neverwood castle. The snowflakes frozen in air. The broken stones of the courtyard underfoot. And everywhere shadows fled from view. Strange and mystical it looked. And yet, dangerous.
“Quick, to that tower on the left!” Gib called through the whirling snow.
The storm was worse in the clearing. And the fellowship turned, heading for the tower they had seen moments ago. The ruins were eerie, but the decimated stone walls of the ancient fortress kept the howling winds of the snowstorm at bay. In a dry corner, the Fellowship lit a small fire which they huddled around, their sodden clothes drying off.
Bjarn reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the scroll Hans had presented them at the archives of Orion. He laid it out on a stone block, the others crowding around as Bjarn struggled to read it in the flickering firelight.
“These ruins are plotted on the map that Hans compiled for us...tyco, we’re nearer the center of the Neverwood then I could have guessed. Nobody has ever gone much deeper than here into the forest and returned. Everything further than this on the map is blank.”
Bjarn was correct. Beyond the dot that marked the ruins, a blank stretch of parchment was unmarred by anything but a small drawing of a dragon captioned in Daner’s spidery handwriting: Here Be Monsters. Bjarn offered a forced chuckle, staring at the parchment that could no longer offer them any aid.
“Hopefully the monsters we meet won’t be much worse than Daner’s drawing.”
Nobody had the heart to laugh. Bjarn folded up the map and looked around at the rest of the Fellowship.
“Tyco.” he said out loud, “Look at us. Nearly all of us are wounded, and those who are not are dead tired. We’re in no condition to search about to find this temple!”
Voolmark yawned. “I’d try to heal some of you guys up, but I really don’t have the skill...I’m not a cleric, after all.”
He yawned again. “Besides, keeping Reno alive has drained me…”
“How is Reno?” asked Anardan, rubbing his own wounds.
“A little better.” whispered Shainya, from where he lay next to him, “But he lost a lot of blood…”
They all fell silent, listening to the howling wind and driving snow. One by one they dropped off into sleep, at last gaining refuge from their woes and the terrible conditions around them. At least for a few hours.
When Bjarn awoke, he saw at once the storm had almost died, and only delicate snowflakes floated lazily down to the gro
und. The old Forestmen stood, and, wandering off a distance into the outskirts of the ruins, emptied his bladder upon the ground. The steaming urine quickly melted the snow, and suddenly a strange stone was revealed. It appeared to be carved, but Bjarn could not translate it. After pouring out his canteen over it to clear the stone of his own urine, he picked up the stone and brought it back to camp. Dractor and Luxus were stirring, and Shainya was frying bacon over a fire started by Gib.
“What do you have there, Bjarn?” she asked.
Bjarn sat on a stone that could have been part of a pillar eons ago and replied, “Some kind of stone with markings on it.”
Luxus crawled out from his stiff blanket and stumbled forward.
“Lemme see…”
Bjarn handed it over to him and Luxus began examining it, careful not to use his burnt hand.
“It’s something in the Ancient Tongue, like Hans teached me…” said Luxus at once, “but I don’t know what it means…”
Bjarn took it back and slipped it into his pack.
“Then it probably will do us no good, but thanks lad.”
Dractor was up now. “Bjarn, I think, after breakfast, you, Aros, and Voolmark should take Gib and search about. These lumps of stone surely can’t be the temple, but it must be near by. The sooner it is found, the sooner we can all go home.”
“But that leaves the rest of you completely exposed and vulnerable,” argued Bjarn, “What if more bloodwolves attack?”
Sir Dractor smiled. “Bjarn, I’ve fought off over thirty Cross Knights singled-handed and been shot by a catapult, but was still able to manage to crawl back to the Allied camp during the Fell War. I’ll protect them.”
Bjarn hesitated, then agreed. Suddenly a scream ripped though the air, sounding hollow and ghost-like. Voolmark awoke with a jump and demanded, “What's that??”
Gib groaned. “That would be Peregal...and I think he just fell down the shaft I did when I helped that lady and blue fellow…”
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