David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 149
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 19:47:40 +0000 UTCChapter 149: The Airaduinë
Just north of Calder’s Landing, where it met the ocean, the long river that ran east out of the interior jungles was broad, splitting into a delta that covered miles of the coast. The further inland you travelled, however, the narrower the Airaduinë River became, fed as it was by scores of smaller streams along its course.
Keri paddled from the back of one of the strange, dugout river boats that Soaring Eagle and his people had crafted for the Eld. Once an agreement had been made to guide their forces to the great bridge on the river, matters had progressed quickly. The warrior had decreed that marching overland through the jungle would take too long, and that the group would instead use the river itself as a road.
Over the course of mere days, the hunters of the Red Shield tribe, working with the Elden warriors, had felled what they called ‘bitterwood’ trees, which were just beginning to show yellow flowers amidst their thin leaflets. Those leaflets - and all of the bark, as well - were set aside because, as Calm Waters explained, they made good medicine.
“Use it to brew a tea,” the woman explained, carrying a toddler on her hip. “It will treat blackwater fever, from the mosquitos. Or if you warriors become sick from drinking bad water.” Keri had dutifully commanded his people to pack a supply of the bark and leaves, and set it aside for future use.
The great trunks of the trees, themselves, were then split in half, so that two boats could be made from each. The crafters of the Red Shields set to work first with short chopping blades, of the kind used for clearing brush, and then with a sort of small axe of a type Keri had never seen before. The rate at which chips of wood flew out of the trunks was astounding, as was the confidence with which the crafters moved, clearly earned through long practice and repetition.
The river-boats that resulted from these efforts were small, and pointed at each end, as well as so shallow that Keri constantly worried the wrong motion with a paddle would result in being swamped. Despite his fears, however, the river-boats proved to be well shaped for use in the Airaduinë, and the warriors quickly learned the proper use of them from Soaring Eagle and his hunters.
Airis Ka Reimis, in the meanwhile, had asked Calm Waters to show him the best place for replacement trees to be grown, and there he had set the children of the tribe to the game of planting seeds. When a seed had been buried for every tree that had been felled, the magic of House Keria easily spurred the germination and growth of replacements; the children of the tribe clapped and laughed with glee at the sight of seedlings poking up out of the earth and then growing into sturdy saplings over the course of only a few moments.
All told, by the time the flotilla of river-boats set off west along the Airaduinë, Keri no longer felt any misgivings about leaving potential enemies behind them. The Red Shields who had left Ractia by their own choice had, by that time, countless opportunities to betray the Eld if they had wished to do so, but they truly seemed to desire only to be left alone. He could not help but notice the small splinter tribe was made up of a much higher proportion of the very old and the very young than might otherwise be expected, and Keri suspected the warriors and hunters itching to prove themselves in battle had mostly remained with the Lady of Blood.
Even with a skilled guide and the river-boats, the journey upriver had been neither quick, nor easy. Paddling against the current was exhausting for the unpracticed Eld, and from speaking with Soaring Eagle, Keri had worked out that they were lucky to cover a dozen miles in a day of travel. It was more important to maneuver the river boats carefully, and not suffer accidents, than to press for speed.
For one thing, the river was deep, with a powerful current, and a soldier who fell into the waters might be easily swept away. For another, the dugout river-boats carried all of their supplies, including not only food but arms and armor as well. But the worst was the schools of Pirãîa, or ‘biting fish,’ that swam in the river. According to their guide, a group of the horrifying creatures could strip the flesh from a man’s bones in a matter of moments. Out of an excess of caution, they hadn’t yet learned whether that was true firsthand.
Every evening, they pulled their dugout boats up onto the bank and made camp. During the day, some of the soldiers made attempts to fish, and whenever they managed to catch a bass or catfish, they would cook it over a fire. Unfortunately, they were far enough from any nearby rifts that their catch never contained anything but a negligible density of mana, and was good for little more than filling their bellies. Instead, they relied on the stores of jerky, nuts, and hard bread they carried with them.
“Our supplies are getting low,” Keri had mentioned again to Valtteri ka Auris the evening before they came in sight of the bridge. “If we were to turn around now, we’d be starving by the time we made it back to Calder’s Landing, even paddling with the current.”
“We won’t be turning back,” Liv’s father said, stirring the coals of their cookfire with a branch he’d taken from the forest floor for this very purpose. “According to Soaring Eagle, we’re nearly at the bridge. We’ll clear out whatever mana-beasts are in the shoals, fortify a position around the waystone, and then use it to bring supplies back from Al’Fenthia.”
“My kwenim has been stockpiling supplies since we left,” Airis added. “The moment we connect with her, all of it can be moved here, along with fresh troops. Most of the soldiers with us now, we should rotate back to the north for rest and recovery.”
“The wounded, certainly,” Valtteri agreed. “But we’ll need to keep soldiers with us who’ve learned something of the jungles, to teach what they know to our reinforcements.”
“We don’t have any wounded,” Livari ka Reimis added, tentatively. “Unless you count Saana’s snakebite. But that’s healing up nicely, and she can rest it on the boats tomorrow.”
“We don’t have wounded yet,” Keri corrected him, having taken Valtteri’s meaning himself. “But we will, by the time we’ve seized the waystone.”
It had been a sobering note to end the evening on, and Keri slept restlessly. He longed to escape the damp heat of Varuna, the heavy air that was so different from the mountains of his home. He wondered how his son was, and resolved once again to spend more time with his family once Ractia had been defeated.
He couldn’t help but think of Livara, as well, and how much she had wanted to come with them. Keri couldn’t help but envy her: at least at Coral Bay, she could enjoy a cool sea breeze, and would have a real bed to sleep in at night. He could understand why her father hadn’t wanted her in Varuna yet, however. If it had been Rei asking him, he would have said no as well.
Still, he could have chosen not to come. There was no one to blame for the constant sweat that covered his skin, the stinging of the mosquitos, and his own restless sleep but Keri himself. The thought, however, only stiffened his jaw. Sending someone else to fight and perhaps die in his place would have been the decision of a coward.
He’d been up before dawn, restless and eager to get on their way. Perhaps the mana on the wind had whispered something to him while he tossed and turned the night away, because Keri wasn’t even surprised when the soldiers in the first river-boat called out that they’d sighted the bridge.
It was no simple structure of wood pilings - not that anything of that sort would have stood for over a thousand years. No, the bridge was as imposing as it was graceful: a gentle curve of white stone, nearly an artificial cliff in the middle of the river, with four arched gates through which white water tumbled and roared down to the flowing water below. No vine or creeper had managed to secure a foothold on that stone, nor could Keri see any cracks or breaks. It appeared perfectly preserved despite the vast span of time that must have passed since it was built by the hands of the old gods.
To either side of the river, however, the jungle loomed. Whatever road might once have let up to and away from the bridge had long been consumed by the trees and the undergrowth, and no sign of it remained.
The Eld pulled their dugout river-boats off to the north side of the river, onto the sandy banks, and Valtteri sent out scouts while the rest of them made camp. For the first time in their long journey upriver, the men and women pulled on their armor. With a shoal so close, everyone knew there would be mana-beasts about.
“This is the place you sought,” Soaring Eagle said, standing with Valtteri, Airis and Keri in a semi-circle, all of them gazing out from the riverbank to the bridge in the distance. Livari had been sent with the scouts. “I have kept my word to you.”
“So you have,” Valtteri said, “and we thank you.” He extended his hand, and clasped arms with the Red Shield warrior.
“I would stay the night with you,” Soaring Eagle said. “And hear the words of your scouts. If any of my people are here, I want to know.”
Valtteri nodded. “You are more than welcome to remain among us as long as you wish,” he assured the other man. “But I know that your people wait for you. Once we take the waystone, my own people will build a fortress here, to protect it. The True Red Shield will be welcome to come and trade with us, should you wish it.”
“Perhaps,” Soaring Eagle said. “We will take no part in your war, however.”
“I can pass a message to Wren Wind Dancer, if you wish,” Keri offered, before thinking better of it. After all, he knew where the woman was - at Coral Bay, with Livara. It would be no great difficulty to visit them. Perhaps after he’d taken an evening to see Rei and Rika again.
“If you see her before I do,” the Red Chief said slowly, considering his words, “tell her that she is welcome to return to us. As are all who turn away from the bloody-goddess’ service.”
☙
It took the rest of the day for the scouts to return, and the rest of the force set about fortifying the camp into something that might serve for more than a single night. Depending on what word Livari and the rest brought back, it might yet be days before they launched an assault on the bridge.
Elden hunters brought down jungle birds that had grown fat and large on the mana of the shoals, as well as nuts and fruits that Soaring Eagle had taught them were edible. By the time Livari emerged from the trees with two other scouts at his shoulders, a trench had been dug and a palisade of sharpened wood erected beyond that. Keri, who was supervising the construction, stepped forward to greet the boy as he approached.
“Livari ka Reimis.” He nodded his head. “It is good to see you’ve returned safely. Your father and Valtteri will be eager to hear your report.”
“Vari,” the boy said, falling into step at Keri’s side to accompany him into the camp. “My friends always called me Vari.”
“After half a year or more at sea and in the jungle, I hope we are at least that,” Keri agreed. “It makes things easier in other ways, as well.”
“My namesake,” the boy grumbled. “Or rather, our shared namesake. You can’t imagine how uncomfortable it’s been to have that hanging around my neck for my entire life. Even worse since Father brought back word of Valtteri’s daughter.”
“He has hopes of a match,” Keri commented, keeping his voice light and even as he spoke. He would be certain not to show any of his feelings on that subject. Still, when Vari snorted in response, Keri felt a flush of relief.
“I’ve never even met the girl,” Vari said. “It’s an obsession with him, and I can’t believe my mother allows it to continue.” Whatever he might have said more, Keri didn’t learn, because they’d come within earshot of the fire where Valtteri, Airis, and Soaring Eagle sat waiting.
“Good,” Liv’s father said, standing up to clasp the boy’s arm. “Come, have something to drink and tell us what you’ve learned.”
For all of his youth, Keri reflected, Vari had been well trained. He spoke efficiently and succinctly, sketching out a map of the bridge and the surrounding environment in the bare earth that had been cleared around the fire pit.
“It is not only a bridge,” Vari explained. “It is a dam. The water level of the other side is forty or fifty feet higher than it is downriver, where we are, and the entire valley past the dam is flooded to create a reservoir. There is a road along the top, that much is true, and signs that the road once extended both north and south, though it's been swallowed entirely up by the jungle.”
“Not surprising with all the time that’s passed,” the boy’s father remarked.
“We’re only perhaps a hundred yards from the edge of the shoals now,” Vari said, marking their campsite, and then drawing a round circle around the bridge. “We’ve sighted some of those biting fish in the water, grown to the size of a pig,” he continued. “There are also great lizards with long tails and long, toothy snouts, sunning themselves on the rocks at the foot of the bridge. Those are thirty or forty feet long. We’ve seen wildcat tracks, paw prints as big as a grown man’s head.”
Soaring Eagle nodded along with every word. “There will be snakes, as well,” the Red Shield warrior told them. “Even if you have not seen them yet. Great constrictors. We call them water mothers.”
“On top of all that,” Vari continued, “we counted half a dozen Antrian war machines.”
“You’re certain they are active?” Keri asked, frowning.
Vari nodded. “Oh, yes. They were patrolling the top of the bridge. No sign of rust or other corrosion, no damage. They seemed to be guarding a doorway.”
“The descent into the rift,” Valtteri said, sharing a glance with Airis. “We know that Ractia re-activated at least one of the things up in the mountains. Perhaps she found more here.”
“Karis,” Soaring Eagle said. “That thing was terrifying. Utterly devoted to her, and devoid of any conscience or mercy.”
“Where is the waystone?” Keri asked. That was their priority: once the waystone was secured, they had a route for supply lines and reinforcements from the north.
“Here.” Vari drew a small circle on the southern bank of the river, off to the western side of the bridge. “It’s on an outcropping of rock that extends over the flooded valley. Just at the edge of the shoal.”
“We’ll have to cross to the other side of the river,” Valtteri said, tapping one finger on his knee as he thought. “We can do that in the morning, once our people have had a chance to rest. The mana-beasts will make attacks of opportunity, but we must assume that the moment we move to secure the waystone, the Antrian war machines will respond in force.”
“Six of the things,” Airis murmured. “Our people haven’t fought so much as one since the days following the war, Valtteri.”
“Six that we counted,” his son pointed out. “There could be more down inside the depths. We wouldn’t have been able to see those.”
“We still have the advantage,” Valtteri said.
“How do you figure?” Airis asked, frowning. “We have sixty warriors, and ourselves. At best, that gives us ten for each war machine, but we will need to leave men to guard our camp from mana beasts – in fact, we will need to keep a reserve to deal with any mana beasts that attack from the flanks while we are fighting. Call it eight warriors for each Antrian. An enemy that hardly anyone alive can remember fighting.”
“We have the advantage because we can lure them in,” Valtteri said. “We move swiftly to the waystone, before dawn breaks. Say that we take all of tomorrow to move our camp across the river and prepare, then move the morning after that. We make our best speed and take the waystone in a rush. Then, we set defenses and let them come. Ramparts of ice and wood and earth, with our soldiers positioned above. Everyone with a word that can kill from a distance. Make them advance under assault from our magic - wear them down before they even get to the ramparts. Storm winds to blow them down off the bridge, and grasping roots to trip and slow them.”
“And in the meantime,” Keri pointed out, “we activate the waystone. Send one or two people through to Al’Fenthia, with a drawing of the sigils on this side of the stone. We don’t need to hold forever, only long enough for reinforcements to come through. At that point, we’ll have all the numbers that we need.”
The men shared a glance, nodding one after the other.
“The second dawn, then,” Valtteri said. “And then we will have our foothold in Varuna.”
Comments
John Koor
Keri no longer felt and misgivings > any
Ike5421
Gloss
Dave N
Also, I put this on Patreon, but here too: do you want to see the battle at the bridge on screen, or gloss over it?
