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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1088385
The adventure of the Jerak Riders of Evergreen.
Tales of the Shylor: Book 1

The Riders



1. Evergreen



The sign read, ‘Welcome To Evergreen,’ although the sentiment would hardly apply to those who approached the village on that particular night. Deep in the southern reaches of the civilized territories, southeast to be more precise, sat Evergreen. A village built many years ago on the northern edge of a swamp, in the shadow of the Aldemaar Hills. Well-traveled dirt and gravel paths wound through the buildings, many of which were either suspended in trees or floating on the boggy terrain. Simple wooden dwellings, green and brown the predominant colors, covered the landscape in no particular pattern. In fact, there was little of great interest about Evergreen, until that night.

The full moon shone through the canopy of trees to expose all the night’s events. Evergreen’s latest guests were now trampling the sign meant to greet visitors. They were uninvited, unwanted guests and with them a sight that had become unfortunately familiar to the local residents. Pushing through the natural underbrush was a large wooden vehicle of sorts, resembling an ocean going galley. Although the craft had wheels, it was still completely out of place in the forest. The masts and huge black sails, standing taller than some of the trees they were bearing down on, created a massive black hole against the starry night sky. Its hull reeked of an overgrowth of mold so thick; the wood beneath could hardly be seen. And the wheels, those huge thundering wooden wheels, mounted on axles that made noises with each revolution like an animal caught in a trap.

“To the ground, to the trees,” barked the Mutari captain. “Take the village, burn ‘em out, burn ‘em all out.” As soon as the orders left his slobbering, spitting mouth his crew responded. Rope ladders unrolled in all directions, the pirates obeyed their commander with the fervor of wild animals. Torches were lit as the massive invaders hit the ground with a singular purpose.

Mutari they were called, pirates and scoundrels, every last one. Seven feet and three hundred-fifty pounds of unfortunate canine resemblance, they were truly suited to their chosen profession.

“Let’s get ‘em, boys,” one howled with a sickly grin that curled across his thick fur-covered jowls. The flash of his fangs was only outshined by the glint of his sword.

“Aye, I’ m gonna skin me a jerak,” said another, pounding his fist on the chest-plate of the tanned hides he wore as armor. Though the source of the hides could be questioned, the helter-skelter manner in which the metal plates were attached to it revealed the Mutaris’ chaotic nature.

Before he could leap from the side of the ship, he felt the stinging smack in the back of his head of a gigantic gloved hand. He turned around quickly to strike down his assailant, but was cut short. As was his air supply, by that same huge paw which was now wrapped around his throat. His eyes opened wide with panic as he met the cold glare of the ship’s captain.

“You’ve not seen the likes of Jeraks. I have. Ravenous beasts, they are. None can get near ‘em, ‘cept the Riders. I seen many a good scoundrel turned into a meal and my orders are to capture this village, not feed it,” the captain explained in eerily calm although gravelly voice. “You can’t take land from no one if yer a late-night snack fer a jerak.” His voice rose with each word, culminating in a spit-filled crescendo of yelling, “And if yer eaten before ya get me my village, I’ll wait till the jerak craps ya out somewhere, I’ll come and get ya and kill ya again!” The captain’s black eyes seemed to glow with anger and disdain.

“Aye, cap’n. Sorry,” the subordinate managed to reply through his constricted vocal chords.

His captain released him and over the side he went, but the words continued to ring in his ears. Jeraks, Ravenous Beasts and Riders.

The captain's warning was well-founded. Jeraks were carnivorous beasts. Perhaps prehistoric creatures that time forgot to erase. Similar to alligators, but they stood tall on their hind legs. They had small forearms and a curved spine ending in long, thick tail. Jeraks were once hunted to near extinction. The early settlers of Evergreen changed that fate .

Those people came to be known as The Riders. A name given them due to the symbiotic relationship formed with their reptilian mounts. Instead of hunting Jeraks, the Riders befriended and protected them. In return, the beasts become formidable allies and steadfast defenders of the village.

A fact soon put to the test. Whether by fortune or providence, a stray hunter happened to be out late in the northern part of the swamp and alerted the village to the ship’s presence. Evergreen was fully aware of the approaching danger. Danger can, however, have a powerful draw for the young, evidenced by the silhouette of the twelve-year-old boy in the second floor window overlooking the village courtyard.

###

The boy was short for his age, he always had been no matter what age he was. His blonde hair was evidence of his Evergreen heritage. His bright blue eyes however, were something unique among Rider children. His name was...

“Jaydon!" A woman’s voice startled him with a tone that could only be produced by a mother’s concern. "Get away from that window! Suppose an arrow or spear goes astray. Do you need an extra hole in your body?!?” He clunked his head on the window frame before turning to answer.

“No…, mom. Sorry, but I…” Jaydon winced and struggled to catch his breath.

“But nothing. Do as I say! I swear, between you and your father..." She stopped herself, but it was too late.

"What?" Jaydon asked. "What's going on?" His mood changed dramatically as the reality hit him. His curiosity gave way to concern.

His mother, Elisa, stepped forward. Her expression softened beneath her long, blonde hair. Though her eyes were dark, more in keeping with Rider ancestry, the rest of her features were very similar to his. She place her hand atop Jaydon's head and smiled as she rubbed the newly formed bump she found there.

"He's just going to help. That's all. Just stay away from the window, alright?"

She turned and began to descend the stairs. She paused and without turning to look back at Jaydon said, "don't worry, he'll be fine." She then continued down the stairs.

Jaydon waited a moment, then quietly made his way to the staircase. He was careful not to be seen. Though eavesdropping was frowned upon by his parents, this was no ordinary circumstance. He laid on the floor, leaned down the first few steps and peered between the railings. He could see his mother then his father, Valyn, came into view

He had a rope coiled across his chest and was carrying a large wooden mallet. Valyn was a Rider as a result of his marriage to Elisa. He had brown hair, blue eyes and a slight, sinewy build. He was not a member of the militia, not even native to Evergreen. Yet there he was preparing to meet... whatever it was.

"Delvar's on his way," Valyn began. "I know how to stop this."

"I don't doubt that, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," Elisa replied. "There's something about this, about these creatures, that's beyond simple poaching or thievery. It's something very unnatural"

"Look, the council should've listened to you before and I should probably listen to you now, but..."

"There are other things you need to consider," Elisa motioned toward the stairs. "You need to be aware of others effected by this."

"That's exactly why I have to go," Valyn replied as he looked to the staircase. He offered up a crooked smile and a kiss on the cheek. Though the conversation was harsh and short due to the current situation, there was never any doubt of the feelings beneath it. Before exiting, he had to add the one comment that had become all too familiar in their farewells.

"And I won't do anything stupid."

Upon hearing this, Jaydon headed straight for his bedroom window. Since the definition of something stupid was always under speculation by his father, he was compelled to witness the latest interpretation. His window overlooked the main courtyard of Evergreen. Beyond sight, the creaking and crunching of the invaders' ship was getting closer.

His father met up with Delvar just outside the house. Delvar was a Shylor. Three-feet-tall, a muscular build and dark skin were typical of Shylors. They ducked into the shadow of a tree. Though he could not quite hear them, he could easily see Delvar's white-blonde hair.

Valyn knelt beside Delvar. Time barely permitted a brief conversation and some crude scratchings on the forest floor. After only a couple of moments, they moved quickly to implement whatever plan they had concocted. They ran across the courtyard and split up at the other end. They climbed the two largest trees that lined the northern entrance to the courtyard.

Jaydon watched as they both tied ropes onto the tallest part of the trunks. Then, each in turn, they made their way out to the farthest branches that extended over the road. Though Jaydon knew where they were, he was sure they were hidden from the enemy's view.

As he studied the area, he realized there were other figures in the shadows of the houses beyond the courtyard. The leader of the Riders’ militia had also gotten word of the invasion. He quickly rallied his men and got them into position.

###

“Look sharp,” whispered Beryl. “When they reach the first house, we ride. Follow me and stay close. These things are ruthless and I don’t want any unnecessary heroics.” His group silently acknowledged and waited while Beryl delivered a series of hand gestures to another yet unseen group of Riders.

The Riders were tense. Sweat ran down their brows. Many wiped their hands numerous times to keep grip on the reins. The Jeraks were restless as well, less restless than the men, but they could definitely smell the events that were unfolding. Their powerful hind legs flexed and their claws scratched at the ground in anticipation.

“Ride now!” Cried Beryl. With that, he drew his sword and led the attack. His Jerak lowered its head, lunged forward and sprinted toward the enemy. The two charging as one embodied the Riders best traditions. Beryl, the Guardian Defender of Evergreen, inspired his men in deeds as well as in words.

“Break their ranks! Do not let them reach the courtyard!”

Jeraks and riders began to fill the dark and empty streets. From behind houses and trees, they appeared as if from nowhere. Their numbers hidden by the natural advantage afforded them by their swampy domain.

The Mutari captain, looking down on the scene from the ship’s bridge, was neither surprised nor impressed as his enemy revealed himself.

“There!” He pointed. “Take down their mounts and we’ll crush these bugs! Fire!” As if the words themselves launched them, a flurry of spears was released from the invaders’ ship.

At that same moment, somehow, on a night that had no wind to speak of, the black sails filled. The ship lurched forward and the battle was on.

Already outnumbered, the Riders immediately felt the toll taken by the Mutari spears. Jeraks and men fell, however not as many as the pirate captain had counted on.

“You dogs take the left, you take the right,” his orders to the ground assault echoed through the night. “Cut ‘em down, don’t let any get away!”

Beryl’s sword and armor quickly gained a distinctive red tint as he cut his way through the hoard.

“You’ll regret the day you washed up in Evergreen. You mangy pack of mutts will regret the day you crossed The Riders!” He shouted, as his blade found its mark again and again. As long as the men could hear and see him, they would fight on. On into the next lifetime, if he wished them to.

That did not change the fact that they were looking at a force of numbers that rivaled their own, at least three to one. It also did not include those raiders still aboard the dread ship that loomed ever closer, like a wave that would eventually break, and so would the Riders. Unless something altered the tide, simple attrition would be Evergreen’s undoing.

The Mutari ship was nearing the courtyard. It forced its way through the trees that lined the road like a dog pushing its head into a rabbit hole. The ship was a towering paradox to the dark and quiet homes of the village.

Below, Beryl continued to command his men and the Jeraks matched bite for strike with their Riders. It was clear however, they were being driven back. Many had fallen by now and many more still would. By the time the enemy’s vessel reached the courtyard, the pirate captain’s incessant barking of orders was the only noise that drowned out the bone chilling creaking of its axles.

“Ready on the bow,” the Mutari leader’s voice carried out above the din of the battle..

The Riders could pay no attention to the ship itself other than to avoid the huge amount of area it occupied. Their focus was on the beast-raiders that it had delivered into their midst. The growling and biting from their canine jaws would have struck fear into the heartiest of men.

From their vantage point in the trees above the ship, Valyn and Delvar could see just what the captain had planned with his ‘Ready on the bow’ command. It was another squad of the Mutari pirate-beasts, preparing to charge over the front of the ship to ambush Beryl. Valyn knew that if his plan failed, Beryl, the militia and Evergreen itself, would be overwhelmed.

With the flash of a hand signal, he grabbed hold of his rope and leapt from his perch in the tree. Drawing his weapon in tandem with his partner, Delvar did the same. Both swung hard toward the deck of the land-ship. Valyn had determined their target and even a near miss was not an option.

The wind, Delvar thought. Where is the wind coming from? On an otherwise calm night, he found himself in the midst of the icy gale that drove the vessel onward. The closer he got to his target on the ship, the stronger the wind became. Delvar shook the wonder from his mind. He had to concentrate on the assignment he was given.

Strike at the back of the leg, the armor does not cover there. Valyn’s last words to him echoed in his mind as Delvar struck his blow. His sword found its mark as he came to the end of the rope’s path and he found himself tumbling across the deck.

“Aaah!” The Mutari captain howled as his body convulsed and the pain coursed through him. That would, however, be his final sound. Valyn struck the next blow a second later. This one was higher, in the small of the captain’s back, sending him reeling forward. Valyn had hoped to strike with the large wooden mallet he was brandishing, but being a larger target than Delvar he was blown off course slightly by the eerie wind and was forced to strike with his feet. It turned out to be quite effective. The momentum carried the beast-captain from his post, on the bridge overlooking his hoards, flying over their heads and over the bow of the ship.

When the giant form of the Mutari captain hit the ground, it sounded as though a mountain had fallen. Being one of the largest and fiercest of his kind made him captain, but it also made it impossible for him to survive a fall from that height. It was as if the will to fight was drained from the invaders’ sword arms by the thunderous sound of their leader’s crash to earth. Suddenly, the Jerak Riders found themselves driving back their uninvited guests. The beasts were scattered, confused, running and even dropping their weapons. The strange land galley that had brought them to Evergreen stopped its hideous creaking noise; in fact it stopped altogether.

Beryl took control of the turning tide.

“Drive them out men,” he commanded. “Run them down ‘til none remain in the village.”

The men cheered and yelled as they took back their home. Jeraks snapped and growled at the fleeing enemy.

“These pirates will think twice before taking on The Riders again.” Beryl’s words echoed beneath the canopy of the swampy forest. The men were routing the enemy out of the village. “North,” Beryl shouted. “Back to where you came from,” followed as more of a sigh than a command. A sigh of relief, perhaps, knowing that something played a part in this victory; something that he could not explain, nor could he count on again. He scanned the length of the ship as though searching for the answer.

On the deck above, Delvar scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, he knew the sort of numbers still waiting on board the ship. Valyn was already standing; his unwavering glare sent a shiver down Delvar’s spine.

“Clear.” He thought he heard Valyn whisper, which returned his attention to the enemy.

Surely, the combination of flickering torch and fading moonlight was playing tricks on his eyes, as he surveyed the deck that lay before him. The hoard he had seen preparing to leap from the ship to deliver the crushing blow were doing just that; leaping. Leaping, not in an organized attack from the bow, but in a chaotic retreat from wherever they could. They were pushing, shoving, and even knocking their comrades to the deck in their madness to escape.

Valyn and Delvar looked at each other, then back at the retreating mass.

“What do we do?” Delvar asked.

“It looks as though we’ve already done it,” was the reply he got from his equally relieved partner. “As the head goes, the body will follow.” Valyn concluded, as the last of the enemy beasts scurried over the side.

“Not even one?” Delvar remarked as he looked across the now empty deck. “Who’d have guessed it?” He then paused and looked at Valyn. “Well, you, I suppose.” This time he did not receive a response, just an odd look. Through years of friendship, sometimes a look can say as much as an entire speech.

“Well, that has to be the strangest thing I’ve ever been through,” he continued. “Did you see the way they crawled all over each other to get out of here? I mean, you would’ve thought we were the walking dead. They couldn’t leave fast enough. And what was with the wind? Now it's gone?” Again he received no response.

As the two walked over to the rail at the side of the bridge, Delvar continued his rant. It was not unlike him. He was often guilty of dealing with stressful or tense situations this way. His mouth firing words in rapid succession, his brain fighting to keep up. Rare was the occasion that he ever said anything hurtful or unkind, but he had suffered the consequence of accidentally volunteering himself more than once. Tonight was a good example.

“I really think that I’m cut out for this kind of thing. Uh…I mean we, of course.” He then flexed the muscles in his arms. “Your brains, my brawn.” He changed his voice to sound as formal as he could. “They must have sensed their imminent demise.”

Valyn was only half listening as he surveyed the battlefield from his perch high atop the mighty warship. Even so, he could recognize his friend's search for reassurance.

“Perhaps,” Valyn quipped, in an equally proper manner and without actually looking at Delvar. “They had never before encountered an adversary who was half the size of the kitchen knife he was carrying.”

Valyn’s words had done their job. Though he did not see it, he knew a smile had grown across Delvar’s face. His focus was on Beryl, far below, whose attention had been drawn to the ship by the hasty retreat of its former masters. The two men nodded in acknowledgement of each other and the victory that each of them had helped to secure. Valyn then turned to look across the courtyard. The invaders had been defeated, but how far into the village had they gotten?

In the pale backlight of Evergreen’s many lanterns and torches, Valyn could see his home clearly. Two large shapes moved in front of the house. His jeraks, the girls as they referred to them, were feasting on something that he could not see. Nor did he want to. Jeraks were renowned for their voracious appetite and fierce devotion to their riders. So, he could only imagine the events that led to this particular feeding frenzy.

He then spotted another figure at the top of the steps into his home. It was a more shapely form, a form he knew better than his own name. She stood in the doorway like a beautiful sentry to his own little kingdom. He was reassured to see that Elisa was all right and as she turned to enter, he continued to scan his home.

There, in the window of the second floor his gaze stopped and was returned. His son, Jaydon, was staring back at him. He had seen everything that had happened and would require more than the quip that it took to contain Delvar’s exuberance. However, Valyn would be more than happy to deliver all the explanations required, now that he knew his audience was safe.

“Well, now…” Jaydon began, as he sat back in the chair by his window. He was almost as out of breath as if he had been in the middle of the fray. “That was awesome. I can’t wait to…”

“I can’t wait to hear this one either,” a chill ran up his spine as his mother’s voice cut in from behind him.

© Copyright 2006 Billy O (billyo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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