Chapter 4 The Passing Horde
The Road of Shadows
The fourth day after leaving the lake began peacefully. Cold northern winds swept across the grasslands. Gray clouds drifted overhead. The land itself was changing. The further north they traveled, the wilder Elyria became. Roads grew rarer. Villages vanished. Ancient forests stretched across the horizon. The signs of civilization slowly disappeared. It felt as though they were leaving the world of men behind.
Toivo rode upon his marble horse beside Gret Ironwolf. The northern warrior watched the horizon carefully. His massive greataxe rested across his back.
Kev slept atop Moon's palanquin in cat form. As usual. Or at least he appeared to be sleeping. Moon sat quietly within the shrine-like palanquin. Daylight had reduced him to his smaller form. His long black hair spilled across the cushions like silk.
The childlike lunar god stared toward the north. Silent. Watching. Then suddenly Moon spoke.
"Stop."
Everyone halted immediately.
Gret frowned.
"What is it?"
Moon slowly stood.
Silver eyes narrowed.
"The wind."
Kev's ears twitched.
The cat opened one crimson eye.
Then both.
"Oh."
That was never a good sign.
Toivo immediately reached for Frostfang.
"What?"
Gret dismounted.
His expression darkened. The ground was shaking. Very slightly. At first. Then stronger. Stronger. And stronger.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The earth trembled beneath their feet. A distant sound rolled across the plains. Like thunder. Except thunder did not continue endlessly. This did.
Gret climbed a nearby hill.
The others followed. Then they saw it.
Toivo froze. The horizon was moving.
No.
Not moving. Walking.
Thousands. Tens of thousands.
An endless sea of figures stretched from one side of the world to the other.
Orcs.
An entire migrating horde. Massive wagons pulled by beasts larger than elephants. Thousands of warriors. Hunters. Shamans. Children. Tents. Livestock. War banners.
The horde moved like a living continent. Smoke rose from hundreds of traveling campfires. The sound alone shook the earth.
Toivo stared.
"I've never seen so many..."
Gret folded his arms.
"Neither have most people."
Even he looked impressed.
"This is a Great Migration."
Moon watched silently.
His expression unreadable.
Kev's tail flicked.
"We leave."
Immediately. No argument. No discussion. Moon simply raised one hand. The palanquin dissolved into silver light. The white golems carrying it collapsed into dust. Both vanished into his shadow.
Toivo blinked.
"You can do that?"
Moon nodded.
"I would rather not advertise my existence."
Gret understood instantly. An entire orc horde noticing a divine flying shrine would be a disaster. Especially when Moon was trying to remain hidden.
The group quickly moved away from the hill.
Unfortunately Fate had other plans. One of the scouting parties spotted them. A horn sounded. Several riders broke away from the main horde.
Charging directly toward them.
Gret cursed.
"Scouts."
Toivo counted.
Eight.
No.
Ten.
Mounted orcs.
Large. Heavily armed. Fast. Too fast to avoid.
Moon sighed.
"Try not to attract attention."
Then he sat on a nearby rock.
Like this was somebody else's problem.
Toivo stared.
"That's all?"
Moon nodded.
"Yes."
Kev yawned.
"I believe that means good luck."
The cat curled up and went back to pretending he wasn't interested.
Toivo groaned.
Gret laughed.
Then grabbed his greataxe.
"Come on, boy."
The old warrior grinned.
"Training opportunity."
The orcs arrived moments later.
Huge. Muscular. Covered in furs and iron armor. One pointed a spear toward them. Another shouted something in the orc tongue.
Gret didn't even wait for translation. He charged. Like an avalanche. The first orc barely had time to react.
CRASH.
The greataxe struck.
Horse and rider flew sideways.
Toivo immediately followed.
Frostfang flashed silver.
The young warrior leapt from his marble horse.
His axe cut through an orc spear. Then buried itself in the rider's shoulder. The orc screamed. Toivo kicked him from the saddle.
Another attacked.
Toivo spun. Frostfang's spear form emerged. The moon-silver blade pierced armor. The rider crashed into the dirt. Nearby, Gret was having entirely too much fun.
His runic axe rose and fell like a siege weapon. Every swing shattered armor.
Every strike sent enemies flying.
One scout attempted to flank him.
Gret simply punched the orc off his mount.
The sound alone made Toivo wince.
The fight lasted less than a minute.
The survivors fled. Blowing warning horns.
Gret's smile vanished.
"That's bad."
Toivo understood immediately.
Scouts existed for one purpose. Finding threats. And now they had. Far away, dozens of new horns answered. Then hundreds. The horizon shifted. The horde was noticing.
Moon immediately stood.
"Leave."
No hesitation. No argument. Everyone moved. Fast.
Marble horses galloped across the plains. Faster than any living animal. Behind them the sound of drums echoed across the land.
The horde was changing direction. Not fully. Not yet. But enough. Too many scouts were now searching. Gret looked back once.
Only once. Then swore.
Several hundred riders were spreading outward.
Looking for them.
"We keep moving."
Toivo nodded.
No heroics. No glorious battle. No victory. Some enemies were simply too large to fight.
Even Gret knew that. Even Kev looked serious.
The group rode until sunset. Only when darkness finally arrived did the sounds of pursuit begin fading. The horde continued northward. Their migration uninterrupted.
Their true destination unknown.
When they finally stopped for the evening, Toivo sat beside the campfire. Exhausted.
Gret handed him a waterskin.
"You fought well."
Toivo smiled.
"Really?"
"You didn't die."
The old warrior grinned.
"That's improvement."
Toivo laughed.
Nearby, Moon watched the northern horizon. Silent once more. His expression thoughtful. The moonlight slowly restored his older appearance. Silver eyes reflected distant stars. Then, far away in the darkness A familiar shape stood atop a hill. A black fox. Watching. Motionless. Its glowing eyes fixed upon Moon. Kev saw it immediately. The cat's fur bristled. Moon saw it too. Yet said nothing. The fox remained until dawn. And when morning came It was gone.
Again.
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