The Grim Wanderer

The Grim Wanderer by James Wolf Page B

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Authors: James Wolf
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ahead,’ Taem passed the reins to Baek, ‘take my horse?’
    ‘I don’t have the strength to hold on,’ Baek grimaced.
    ‘I will hold you then,’ Taem put a hand on Baek’s back, as he led Storm eastwards.
    ‘It’s ten miles to my village,’ Baek gasped with pain. ‘They will catch us for sure, by
    the sound of that drum they’re almost on us.’
    ‘Save your breath,’ Taem said. ‘You will need the strength later.’
    Taem led Storm on for an hour, and twilight descended on the forest. The drums still pursued them, and Taem was ever glancing behind, expecting Krun to burst from the forest. Baek lay on Storm’s back, with his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain. Taem saw how every jolt the horse made was agony for the injured man. Taem examined the wound and frowned, the bandages were soaked with blood. Taem tore more strips from Baek’s cloak, and wrapped them round the injury, replacing the blood-stained makeshift bandages.
    ‘My people will welcome you with open arms…’ Baek said laboriously. His eyes were clamped shut as he clung onto the horse’s back. ‘You should see the great trees in the heart of the forest, Taem… they are truly a wonder to behold. We Aborle live in their boughs… At night, our lanterns rival the stars in the sky… It is a mystical place.’
    ‘You will show me the beauty of your home, my friend,’ Taem held the Aborle on Storm’s back. ‘But for now you must rest.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Baek murmured. ‘There is good in the world, if an outsider will risk his life to save mine.’
    On they trudged through the forest, and the endless sea of green faded into the darkness of night. No drums pursued them now, but Taem was concerned Baek was drifting away. The Aborle had gone silent, and Taem kept nudging his shoulder and talking to him to keep him awake. Baek’s breathing had become shallow and ragged, and Taem knew he would soon die without a healer’s aid. The bandages were soaked in blood, and Taem had run out of cloth to replace them.
    Taem realised there were lights in the dark, in the distant trees ahead. He scanned from side to side, a hand on his sword hilt, searching for Krun. Dark figures stepped out of the undergrowth, twenty yards in front. Taem drew his sword.
    ‘Who goes there?’ One of the figures called, and Taem realised it was a woman’s voice.
    ‘Taem Dratana,’ Taem sheathed his sword, ‘and I have with me Baek Malaran on my horse. He is wounded.’
    Taem now saw figures surrounding him in the dark forest, and he saw the glint of drawn steel.
    ‘Step forward, outsider,’ a harsh voice said to Taem, ‘make no sudden movement. We have arrows drawn on you.’
    ‘He speaks truth,’ Baek gasped, ‘he is a friend.’
    On hearing Baek’s voice, the surrounding Aborle rushed forward to check him. Two of them got between Taem and his horse, watching him, standing in bladed fighting stances, with swords drawn.
    ‘Step away, outsider,’ One of them said to Taem.
    Taem considered dropping into a fighting stance himself, and drawing his blade.
    ‘No Hanrel!’ Baek said to the Aborle facing Taem. ‘He saved my life.’
    ‘A Krun Horde approaches,’ Taem glared at the Aborle facing him, ‘five hundred strong.’
    ‘Is this true, Baek?’ Hanrel touched Baek on the shoulder.
    ‘Yes,’ Baek gasped, as other Aborle led Storm and him towards the lights of the village.
    ‘Alert the village,’ Hanrel ordered the woman next to him, who went sprinting off. He gestured for other Aborle with longbow to turn and face the dark forest.
    ‘Where are the other Warders?’ Hanrel said to Taem.
    ‘Gone,’ Taem murmured, ‘into the last embrace of the Light.’
    The dozen surrounding Aborle all put their hands on their hearts, and dropped their heads. Taem found it bizarre that they would take their eyes off him, after treating him with such wariness.
    ‘My name is Hanrel,’ the Aborle extended a hand towards Taem. ‘Forgive my suspicion, our

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