"Yes," said Eesha. "He actually encouraged it. Said that if we have to turn this campaign into an all-out war against the forest, we'll need every warrior the Order can offer."
"At least he understands our value," said Dinell. "Perhaps he can be trusted after all."
"I still have my doubts," said Eesha as she unbuckled her sword belt and placed the crystal sword of leadership on the table. "That negotiation was too easy. I believe the mer wants me out of the way to make it easier for him to exert control over our forces. But I will beat him at his own game. Before I leave I will officially place you in command of the Order forces. You will cany the crystal sword as a symbol to our troops. Laquatas will find it very hard to exert influence over our warriors while you carry the sword."
Dinell straightened his back even further and saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."
"Good morning, my friend," said Seton as he nudged Kamahl's shoulder with his hoof. "The forest is awake, and so should you be. Come, I have prepared a meal for you."
Kamahl rolled off the pile of furs, stood up, and raised his hands above his head, stretching his arms backward until he heard a loud succession of pops. He had not slept that well or that long for quite some time, and the aches of many months had finally settled into his body. A hearty breakfast and a good, long run. That's what he needed. That's what Balthor would have called for on a morning such as this.
As the barbarian's thoughts turned to his stalwart dwarf friend, he remembered Jeska as well and went to her side. The operating table had turned into a cot, and she seemed to rest peacefully. Kamahl reached out his hand to brush an auburn lock from her face and was surprised to find her skin warm, not burning hot. Her face was no longer flushed. In fact, it seemed almost too pale, and her hands were actually cool.
"Is she… Will she be all right?" Kamahl asked as he turned to face Seton.
"I have done all that I can," said Seton. "Now it is up to Jeska. She will live, or she will die. Either way, the choice is hers to make. I have removed the fire that was consuming her. Whether there is enough left of her will to return, we will know in time. Now she must rest."
Kamahl walked over to the table where Seton stood, eating nuts and berries from a bowl. The barbarian concentrated on the floor and raised up a crude-looking chair of brambles and vines and then, gingerly, took a seat at the table.
"I don't remember you talking in such riddles when we met in the pits," said the barbarian as he filled his own bowl with nuts.
"The byproduct of a contemplative life I'm afraid," replied Seton. "With no one to talk to for weeks on end, I tend to start talking much like I think. Phrases, sentences, words come out in a jumble as my mind races ahead of my mouth. I apologize."
"I never saw you as the contemplative type," said Kamahl as he crunched down on a nutshell to get to the meat inside.
"That was another person you met in the pits," said Seton. "I played the part I was assigned at the time. This is the real Seton you see here today. I have given my life to Thriss and spend my days serving the forest."
"Then why did you leave the forest to enter the pit battles?" asked Kamahl.
"It was the will of Thriss," replied Seton. "When the orb appeared, Thriss could feel its power. I was sent to determine its nature and, if need be, fight for it. I failed to retrieve the orb, but Thriss has watched you and the progress of the orb for a long time. He believes it is in good hands now."
"Well, I don't believe that," said Kamahl dropping the shards of his nutshells back in his bowl and pushing it away from him. "Look at what I did to my sister-what I almost did to my people. I don't want it anymore. I want to bury it in a deep, dark hole."
"I know," said Seton. "That is why Thriss believes you to be the proper wielder of the orb. You are the only person to have ever rejected its power."
"I will not wield it," said Kamahl, stomping his fist on the table. "So your Thriss, whoever he may be, will just have to find another champion."
"The storm is coming, Kamahl," said Seton, cryptic again. "You can either face it with knowledge or run from it in ignorance. Either way, your path lies through the heart of the forest, through the domain of Thriss."
"What in Fiers's name is that supposed to mean?" said Kamahl. "Who is this Thriss, anyway?"
"Thriss is the spirit of the forest," said Seton as he clomped around the table back toward Jeska. "The guardian, if you will."
Seton grasped the sword, which he'd stowed in a natural sheath in the wall. Backing up and turning to face Kamahl once again, he brought it over to the barbarian.
"You will find Thriss in the heart of the forest itself-in the sacred grove. And that is where you must go, whether you wish to bury the Mirari or embrace it as the champion of the forest."
"What about Jeska?" asked Kamahl.
"I will care for her," said Seton holding the sword out to Kamahl once again. "She needs rest and nutrition, both of which I can provide for her. She will be fine, my friend. She is strong willed. I will take care of her. You must take care of yourself, and for that you need Thriss. I cannot help you here."
"Fine," said Kamahl. He took the sword. "I will go see your guardian spirit, but I promise nothing. I will bury this sword in the ground and return for my sister. I am no champion."
"That is your choice and your path to find," said Seton. "But remember one thing as you journey into the heart. The cycle of life is sacred and must not be broken. Predators kill to survive and prey only lives on when consumed."
"More riddles," grumbled Kamahl. "Great."
The barbarian moved to the wall and opened the doorway to the forest, but turned back to his friend. "One last thing, Seton."
"Yes, my friend?"
"When you looked into the Mirari, what did you see?"
"The heart."
"Yours or the forest's?"
"Both."
"When do we enter the forest?" asked Traybor as he walked beside Braids through the Cabal camp.
"At first light tomorrow," came the reply, but Traybor could tell by the way Braids looked straight forward as she talked, and by the swirling cloud surrounding her forehead, that she was not completely in this conversation.
Perhaps she was conversing with the First. Perhaps she was just having some fun with her own personal demons. He did not know. Wherever the summoner was right now, it was not in the abal camp on the edge of the Krosan forest, and he would just have to wait for her to return to get his answers. Traybor continued to walk beside Braids as she wove through the camp toward her tent. Her mouth moved, but he could not hear her words. just outside her tent, the cloud lifted back above her head, and Braids's eyes cleared. "You had a question Traybor?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," said Traybor. "If we wait until morning to begin our hunt for the barbarian, he will be two full days ahead of us. Shouldn't we enter the forest now, tonight?"
"The Order troops are afraid of the dark," she replied. "They wish to wait until daylight. I can't say I blame them. Krosan is a forbidding and dark place even in the full light of day. Keep your senses trained on the trees for attacks while you are in there. And don't worry about the barbarian. Nobody can move quickly through Krosan. You will catch him."
"I will? Where will you be?"
"The First requires my presence," replied Braids. "Some new developments must be discussed. I can't say more."
"The empress? Laquatas? The Order? What?"
"I can't say more," said Braids. "But beware of Laquatas while you are in the forest. He will try to betray us-us and the Order. That much you can always count on with that sea snake. You have my authority to deal with him as you wish if he turns on the Cabal."