(Image provided by Erin Elizabeth)

It was not a good day. In fact, it had been several days since Adrick had had a good day. Was it too much to ask for even a few hours without something major taking place that needed his attention? It was midday and he hadn’t had more to eat than a handful of berries, hastily picked on his way to a birthing. The mother and child were both doing well, and he would never complain about that, but he just wanted a few minutes of peace.

Hence the reason he was hunched down in the corner of their camp where tools were stored, a hunk of bread in one hand and half a cucumber in the other. He wasn’t eating slowly but he certainly wasn’t trying to rush himself. The bread was stale, having been left over from last night’s evening meal he’d been too busy to finish and the cucumber was the only other thing he’d been able to find as he sneaked his way through camp.

“Druid Adrick?”

It was Chemoise calling for him. She was the closest thing they had to an elder but since Adrick was older than her, she deferred most problems to him. Adrick managed to get two more mouthfuls of food down before he felt the familiar sensation of magic running over him.

“Druid Adrick, there you are,” Chemoise said as she strode over to him.

He tucked his food out of sight and stood up as the woman approached.

“Chemoise, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“The flocks have broken out of their pen and need to be found.”

“Certainly you don’t need me for that,” he frowned. “You found me easily enough, I’m sure you and a few of the youths would be more than enough to gather the animals.”

“Yes,” she acknowledge, “but where it would take us hours, you would be able to do it in half that time.”

Adrick’s frown deepened.

“The youths need to learn how to gather their flocks, do they not?”

“In times of peace I would agree with you, Druid Adrick,” Chemise nodded, “but we are fleeing the desolation of war. We do not have hours to spend. We need the animals found so we may continue our trek.”

It was true. It was also the reason why he was so busy of late. They were moving as quickly as they could to get away from the fighting. For better or worse, the war had nothing to do with them. The opposing armies had just met in the valley Adrick’s community used to live in and they got caught in the crossfire. Over half the village was dead and several of the survivors were wounded. He was healing as many of them as he could but his powers were limited. If the head druid of their village hadn’t been killed in the first volley of arrows, things might have turned out differently. Unfortunately, an unexpected arrow through the heart was just as deadly to a powerful druid as it was to a new born baby.

“Druid Adrick, wait!” a young voice called from behind as Adrick strode out of camp in pursuit of the wayward animals.

He turned and saw little Hol running after him. Her limp was almost imperceptible as she ran on the wooden leg he’d carved for her.

“How are you, Hol?” he asked as she reached him.

“I only cried during morning meal,” she replied solemnly.

“Your parents are sorely missed,” Adrick sighed. “Your father was our best herdsman. I don’t think he ever lost a flock.”

“You’re going to get them back?” Hol asked.

“I am.”

He already knew where they were. He could sense them running about, confused and uncertain by the sudden attack and then escape. There was still a lot of fear in them, hence their unwillingness to remain pent up in the makeshift fold. As he focused on them, he called them to him and slowly they were beginning to turn and make their way back to him.

“I’ll help,” Hol said and she screwed up her face in concentration.

“Are you a little druid now?” Adrick chuckled.

He couldn’t feel any power coming from her though perhaps with time she’d develop the talent.

“Druids help people and can do magic,” Hol replied.

“You don’t need to be a druid to do either of those things,” Adrick told her, “but if being a druid calls to you then perhaps one day you’ll become one.”

“Druids are better at helping than normal people,” Hol grumped.

“Hmmm, I think everyone helps in their own way.”

“You’re better at finding the flocks than anyone else because you’re a druid.”

“A skilled herdsman can keep the flocks from ever wandering so no one has to go looking for them in the first place.”

“You can heal people.”

“A watchman, or a soldier, or a guard, or an herbalist can keep people from getting hurt or sick.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I do, but I also disagree with you. Is it better to solve a problem or to prevent it from ever happening? I am good at solving problems, but I wish we did not lose so many who could have prevented them.”

They were both quiet for a while after that comment. The first of the animals were coming into view and as they reached them, Adrick patted them on the head and pointed back towards their camp. Reluctantly, the animals began to trickle on back towards the fold.

The terrain was quite hilly and heavily forested but every once in a while they found a clearing and could see the smoke still rising from the direction of their village.

“Are they still following us?” Hol asked as they took a short rest.

“I’m sure that they are,” he said.

“How close are they?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked in a couple days.”

“Why not? Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on them?”

“Possibly,” he admitted, “but when I find them, I feel their thoughts and their emotions and…”

“And?”

“And it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Are they really that bad?”

“No,” he assured her. “In fact, they’re mostly normal people, afraid like us, just trying to survive.”

“Why’s that so bad?”

“Because they killed so many of us. I want to hate them, but it’s hard to hate someone who’s so much like your friends and neighbors.”

He found the army, camped near their old village. As he’d told Hol, they were ordinary people. They’d won their battle and were pursuing after Adrick and the villagers. They thought they were in league with their enemies, though no one was certain exactly how. Rumors swirled about and fear drove them onward. They were fighting a losing war and this one small victory had inspired them. Adrick saw visions of their homes from far away and could not fathom why they’d come all this way to fight and die.

“Are they going to catch us?” Hol asked quietly, gripping Adrick’s hand.

“No,” he assured her. “We’re already several days ahead of them and they have no druids to help them walk through the trees.”

Hol smiled at last, one of the few he’d seen in the last few days.

“So we can slow down our march?” she asked with increased eagerness.

Adrick forced himself not to lower his smile. It was difficult, as he focused his attention on someone in particular within the army camp. This was someone Adrick could hate. They knew Adrick and his people weren’t connected to the other army and yet he was directing the army to pursue them with all speed. His goal was actually to get away from both warring factions. He’d lost all hope and saw only death behind him. He thought they could make a new life for themselves out here in the wilds. But first he needed to catch and capture the villagers. They knew how to survive out here, not the soldiers, so they were needed to help that man build he new city.

Well, Adrick wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Pests were on their way already to begin tormenting the army. Insects, rodents, even wild boars had answered Adrick’s call for aid and they would harass the army for as long as they remained in pursuit of the village. It wouldn’t stop the army, but it would slow them down.

“Why can’t we slow down?” Hol asked. “It does still hurt to walk,” she added as she looked down to her amputated leg.

“I know, but we need them to lose our trail and give up. Even with my magic it takes time for our trail to disappear. Once we’re far enough ahead of them, we can rest. In the mean time, how about you and I sneak back to our friends as cats?”

Hol grinned broadly and a moment later a pair of cats bounded away through the woods. The smaller of the two only had three legs but it wasn’t that difficult for it to get around and it pounced on the older cat a number of ties before they reached the villagers. This was a common prank so no one was all that surprised by the strange cats leaping out at them and frolicking around. Caring for Hol was one of the few responsibilities he didn’t begrudge. She had suffered more than most, having lost her leg in addition to her entire family, and yet she was doing remarkably well.

“Druid Adrick!” Chemoise called after him and he slowed.

Not everyone was doing as well as Hol, but Adrick was all they had. He felt too young, too inexperienced to be in this position, but who else was there? With a sigh, he was back as a man and Hol limped along on her wooded leg.

“Let’s get camp packed up and get moving,” he told Chemoise. “Another two or three days should be enough and then we can take an easier pace.

The woman noticeably relaxed as the orders were given and she began to go throughout the camp relaying them. Both she and Chemoise were inexperienced and not yet ready for the responsibility they’d been handed. He supposed the least he could do was to stop avoiding her.

“Come on, Hol,” he said with a smile, “let’s go help people.”