3. The Great Plains


Litam landed with a tumble, some dead grass serving to break his fall. Koshos hit and rolled, winning nothing more than bruises for her troubles.

Behind them, the green vortex of light faded, allowing a single lumpy red stone (larger than the two from the tower) to drop before vanishing completely. It landed in a pile of dry, dusty soil, stirring up a small cloud that wafted away in the light breeze.

What happened to those smaller stones? And do I dare touch this one? asked Litam, looking at the new, large one.

The two fragments have merged into this one. By themselves, the stones—they are called Unholy Stones by the devout—are not dangerous. It is only vhen they are all united that ve should vorry, said Koshos. She knew quite well the legends and stories surrounding the four Higher Beasts.

Litam nodded and swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Overcoming his revulsion, he wrapped a paw in his sleeve and pocketed the stone. After making sure no part of his body had decided to fall off or otherwise succumb to the evil within the stone, he stopped to take a look at his surroundings.

Litam judged his directions by the sun, assuming it was still the afternoon as it had been in Subito. The darkness that had fallen on his home was not night, but perhaps magic; the mouse was unsure. He could see that they had landed on an open plain that stretched off to join a large, sharp mountain range very far to the south. To the north was water. A lake, the ocean; Litam couldn't tell. The grassy terrain stretched to the horizon in the east and west.

Ve go east, said Koshos simply, after examining the terrain for herself.

Why?

Vhen I vas young, I travelled often. Do you see that tall peak vith the two shorter ones beside it? I recognize those mountains. The king's palace vas to the east of them vhen ve travelled. Ve must varn him.

The thought again entered Litam's mind that pretario beans weren't really all that bad.

Who did you travel with when you were little, Koshos? Your family?

Ve vere Roamers, Litam. As a family, ve travelled across the Kingdom. Ve had no village to call home, and that vas vhat ve vanted. I chose to come to Subito vhen I came of age; I had seen it before and remembered it as a lovely town.

Litam mulled over this. He had no family. Well, that wasn't entirely true: he was supposedly a member of the family Witinh Hae, an extensive mouse clan. His parents and a dozen more beasts had fallen before raiding dobers: heretical dogs who cut intricate tattoos into their own throats and believed that everything was their birthright.

That's what Jajma the rat had told him. He knew nothing else about his family; Jajma had found him, his soft suckling fur anointed with blood, after the dogs had left. He raised the mouse to work on the farm, impersonally and coolly, like a wilde trained to pull a cart or a bird raised for its eggs. Merely a tool, no more and no less.

Litam didn't regret this, not much anyway. He wasn't mistreated and he was given room and board for as long as he worked. But he had no money and very little in the way of worldly possessions. He was still young, not nearly an adult yet.

As they walked, Litam's mind raced on, leaving the past and heading toward the future. How where they going to explain to the king what had happened? He went over it mentally. It was a ludicrous story for anyone to believe, let alone a king being asked to—

Halt!

A bush-tailed squirrel jumped out from behind a patch of scraggly trees and touched down in front of the beasts, holding a longsword out toward Litam and taking a defensive stance.

He was grey, with a lighter trail of rosettes running up his forehead, down his nape, and presumably along his back. He had on a loose-fitting tunic, rough-hewn trousers, and muddied leather boots. Overall, he looked as if he had seen far better days.

Why do you come here? Answer me, or I won't hesitate to kill you! demanded the squirrel, stepping forward. Litam quickly ducked behind Koshos.

The raccoon launched into the old tongue within moments. Litam didn't recognize more than a few root words, but Koshos was talking up a storm.

Then there was a chorus of unintelligibles, and the squirrel put down his weapon. He looked past the raccoon to Litam.

My apologies, friend: I didn't know we shared circumstances. My name is Briole of the family Anhurre. What is yours? he said with a bow.

I… I am Litam, and you seem to have already been introduced to Koshos here, stammered the mouse, confused at this change of heart.

Well, we met as foes but can travel as friends, no? I'm headed for the king as well—my village, Lohmla, was destroyed two months ago, and I was forced to flee from the agents of the Dark One. I've been headed this way since then. I've been attacked twice by petty thugs and am not keen to fight off a third attack.

Neither of you carry a sword, and as I have seen, travelling on the Great Plains is always dangerous. Would you object to a companion who knows his way around a blade?

Litam tentatively squeaked, We could use your help. Just promise you're not going to stab me?

The squirrel grinned. I promise.

Litam decided that his story might not be as crazy as he had thought.

They walked. They walked a lot. They kept moving for what seemed to be an eternity. The land had few distinguishing features they could track their progress by: the mountains were far away moving slowly, and the water was water without any features to begin with, except for a few small, distant islands shrouded in fog.

Finally, they came to a large, deep dip in the plains: probably a dried lakebed, and much too wide to walk around.

How far is it to the castle, anyway? Litam groaned as they worked their way down the slope.

It is a large kingdom, Litam… and we are on the Great Plains… Briole said slowly.

Litam groaned again. Can we stop to eat? I would do anything for some roast kalay meat. Maybe with some salad and a mug of good pennyfruit ale… he salivated, lost in his thoughts.

Slowly, he was brought out of his inner revelry by a low-pitched noise, beyond what he could hear, but not beyond what he could feel. It began to get louder, it started to rise, and then the ground itself began to shake.

That's when he heard the voices, and the pounding of hooves on dry soil, and the war cries, and…

Quickly! We must hide, an army comes! Briole shouted, and started to dart toward a small overgrowth of green grass at the very deepest part of the dead lake, distant but hopefully reachable in time. The others followed after him, and they disappeared in the brush just as the army thundered over the edge of the depression.

Immediately, the sky was overcast, and where dust would normally have been stirred by an army, a wraith-like cloud of blackness swirled instead. The three travellers kept deathly quiet, not wanting to betray their presence.

Litam cowered as at least two hooves crashed down so close they brushed his whiskers. Something sharp clipped his tail and sent shooting pains up his back, but he didn't dare let out a peep.

When the last soldier was over the other side of the lakebed and safely out of view, the three beasts stood up.

That was the Army of Darkness, headed for the capital city! Briole said, mortified.

The threat gone and the adrenaline rush ebbing from his body, Litam felt exhausted. He fell to his knees and passed out.

He awoke several minutes later to the feeling of water being tossed in his face. That was the strangest dream I've ever had, Litam thought. He got up and looked around. It was dismaying then that he saw the ground rising up to form the dead lake, and he knew it hadn't been a dream.

Was that the same army that attacked Subito? Or Lohmla? Litam asked. It was Koshos who replied.

Who can be sure? Legends of the Dark Army say it alvays travels in darkness, for the light vill break its power and destroy it from vithin. They do not say if it travels only as a whole, the beast told him, her attention focused on cleaning a cut on Litam's arm with a soaked strip of cloth. It was apparently saltwater, because it stung.

Litam winced, jerking back and yelping in protest. Koshos mumbled some matronly words to him to calm him down. Briole wasn't even looking at Litam. He was instead at the rim of the lakebed, staring into the distance toward the east. He said something in the old tongue and Koshos turned to follow his gaze, placing a paw over her eyes to block out the sun.

I think so, Briole. Litam! It looks as if ve are closer than ve thought, she replied in plain Mitarian, turning to the puzzled mouse with a slight smile.

Where do you mean? the mouse asked.

The Royal Palace of Mitaria, of course! The capital city of Dallia, vone hundred thousand strong. Vhere else vere ve headed? I only hope that ve are not too late. Her smile turned grave again.

Litam looked too, and saw a shape off in the distance. He squinted and could make out the tops of towers and spires, glinting brightly above the horizon.

As they approached the city and the castle it clutched, Litam could make out more and more details. After yet another eternity of walking, first through grass, then cobbled streets, finally through a stone gate and over a wooden drawbridge, they arrived before the palace. It was heavily guarded, and the moat was filled with something that was too murky to be water, but the palace was well-kept and beautiful, the white stone tinted rose under the setting sun.

Briole approached the guard tower, knocked on the door, and bowed when the porthole opened.

We seek an audience with the king about a matter of the utmost urgency, the squirrel declared.

The guard inquired further, and Briole explained their situation to him. There was some muttering from within the tower, and the drawbridge slowly opened. They crossed into the gatehouse.

King Nikros the Third is not busy and will give you a brief audience. Lower any weapons you may have and enter slowly, barked a harsh, guttural voice from the other side of an arrow slit. The three beasts complied and the inner gate opened.

They were searched for other weapons, then guided up a winding staircase to private rooms, where they were told to bathe thoroughly and to wear the clothes set out for them: an affectation of the king's, for he had never looked upon peasant clothing in all of his life and he didn't want to ever have to. Litam took his time—there was no such thing as overdoing it when it came to meeting the king—and yet he was still the first one to finish.

He left his suite feeling thoroughly cleansed and delighting in the courtly green doublet and white hose with which he had been provided. He felt faintly like nobility in the fine clothing.

Koshos was the second one out, and the velvet gown she had been given was dark red with gold trim. She swirled it around and chuckled to herself, finding a distraction from recent events.

Briole took by far the longest. Litam was sure he could hear singing coming from the squirrel's room, but he didn't mind the wait. The luxury of the castle was startling to a simple farmhand.

Then the squirrel came out, seemingly several shades of grey lighter. Like Litam, he had been given a doublet and a set of hose, but the doublet was deep blue instead of rich green. He looked happy to have had a chance to clean up after travelling for so long on his own.

Three guards came a few minutes later, instructing the beasts to follow and keep their heads slightly bowed as royal protocol required. They were escorted through several sets of tall doors, each painted in a different hue and inlaid with gold and silver.

They kneeled as ordered, heads still down. Koshos muttered a quick prayer.

Welcome to the throne room, Briole whispered to Litam.