In Sylvan Shadows

by R. A. Salvatore

  “Danica and I wish to go with you,” Cadderly explained, and many expressions crossed Elbereth’s face as he considered the unexpected request.

  “I will not be riding,” the prince said at length, “and I expect to pass far beyond the closest lines of goblins.”

  “More the reason to have companions,” said Cadderly.

  “Perhaps,” the elf admitted, eyeing Danica more carefully. Elbereth certainly couldn’t deny the young woman’s value if it came to battle. “And none of my own People might be spared,” he said, “but I can offer no g—”

  “We need no guarantees,” Cadderly assured him. “We understand the dangers.” The young scholar flashed his boyish smile at Elbereth then to Danica. “Consider it repayment for Daoine Teague Feer.”

  That thought touched Elbereth, and he soon agreed that the two could accompany him. He told them that an elf warrior would also leave for the Edificant Library, an emissary asking for aid, and that they or Rufo were welcome to go along with that elf if they so chose.

  “You have heard our choice,” Danica insisted.

  “And … and I cannot go,” Kierkan Rufo stammered, coming back over when he heard his name. “Back to the library, I mean.”

  Danica looked at the man curiously, thinking it would be more in Rufo’s character to simply run away. Cadderly congratulated his fellow priest on his brave decision to remain in Shilmista. Danica was too suspicious to agree.

  In truth, Rufo would have liked nothing better than to go back with the elf emissary, but he dared not miss a certain meeting he had arranged the previous night.

  “A wise decision,” the imp said, again from behind, when Rufo came down from the hill shortly after sunset.

  Rufo spun on him angrily. “You left me with little choice,” he growled, his volume causing Druzil to look around nervously.

  “Follow!” the imp commanded, thinking it prudent that they get as far from the enchanted hill as possible.

  He led Rufo through the dark trees to the appointed meeting place with Dorigen. Rufo was obviously surprised to find a woman before him, a not-unattractive woman, though she was older than he and sported a severely crooked nose.

  The wizard and Rufo stared at each other for a long while, neither moving to begin the conversation. Finally, Rufo could bear the suspense no longer.

  “You called me out here,” he protested.

  Dorigen let her stare linger a bit longer, let Rufo shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other several times before offering any explanation.

  “I need information,” she eventually replied.

  “You would ask me to betray my companions?” Rufo asked, trying to sound incredulous. “Perhaps I should go back—”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” Dorigen scolded. “You understood the purpose of this meeting before you ever agreed to it.”

  “I only agreed because I was left with no choice,” Rufo argued.

  “You are left with no choice again,” Dorigen said. “Consider yourself my prisoner, if that might ease your pitiful conscience. I need information, Kierkan Rufo, he who aided Barjin.…”

  Rufo’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Yes, I know who you are,” Dorigen continued, apparently thinking she’d gained the upper hand. “You were Barjin’s pawn, and so you shall be mine!”

  “No!” Rufo roared, but when he turned to leave, he found himself facing Druzil’s poison-tipped tail. The angular priest’s bluster flew away in the blink of an eye.

  “Do not be angry, dear man,” Dorigen purred. “I have done you a favor, though you do not yet understand that. The forest is doomed, and so, too, are all who fight beside the elves.”

  “Then why do you need me?” Rufo asked.

  “That does not concern the war,” Dorigen replied. She paused for a moment to discern how she might explain without giving away too much. “Consider it a personal matter, between me and those who accompanied you to Shilmista.”

  “The elf prince?” Rufo asked.

  “Perhaps,” Dorigen answered slyly, thinking it best that Rufo be kept guessing. Not wanting to lose momentum, she pressed on again, her amber eyes flickering with growing delight. “It doesn’t matter. I offer you survival, Kierkan Rufo. When I claim victory, your life will be spared. You might even find a place among my ranks of advisors.”

  Rufo appeared intrigued, but not convinced.

  “And if the elves should somehow escape, and your friends along with them,” Dorigen added, “then none will know of your deceit, and you will emerge with nothing lost.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Must I go into the unpleasant details?” Dorigen replied, her voice so calm and even-toned that it sent shivers up Rufo’s spine.

  “Oh, I might not kill you now,” Dorigen continued. “No, it would be a sweeter thing to see you dishonored for your aid of Barjin and he chaos curse, to lay public those deeds you committed in the library’s cellar.” Dorigen obviously enjoyed the way Rufo squirmed, and she gave Druzil an approving nod for supplying her with such valuable information.

  “How do you know about that?” Rufo asked.

  “I am not without my sources,” Dorigen stated. “And do not think that your torment shall end with disgrace,” she went on, her voice taking a distinctly malign edge. “After your humiliation has ebbed, I will have you killed … in time. Consider the life you will lead if you disappoint me now, Kierkan Rufo. Consider years of looking over your shoulder for assassins.”

  Rufo again shifted from foot to foot.

  “And know that your grave will not be sanctified by the Edificant Library, for certainly your indiscretions with Barjin shall come out in full—and I will see to it that they are not easily forgotten—to dishonor you even in death.”

  The weight of the threat lay heavy on the guilt-ridden man, both because of the deadly imp just a few feet behind him and the fact that he was indeed vulnerable to the wizard’s accusations.

  “But let us not focus on such unpleasantness,” Dorigen offered. “I require very little of you, and you may go on your way, secure that whatever the outcome of this war, you will be safe.”

  Rufo could hardly believe the words as they escaped his thin lips. “What do you wish to know?”

  Cadderly felt clumsy, crunching through the brush beside the stealthy Danica and Elbereth. He didn’t regret his decision to accompany them, though, and neither of them gave more than a slight frown at the young scholar’s loudest crackles.

  They had passed several goblin and orc encampments, the creatures sleeping under the light of day, with the exception of a few bleary-eyed guards. Elbereth’s planned destination was the same grove in which the wizard had appeared, where Ralmarith had been killed. The elf prince hoped he could pick up the villain’s trail from there.

  He never would have imagined that finding the wizard could be so easy.

  They had believed their progress exceptional, for they had moved unhindered long after dusk. The forest grew quiet around them as they rested.

  Too quiet.

  Elbereth sat regarding his sword. “I had thought to bloody it before now,” he whispered to the others. “I did not expect that the resistance would be so meager. Perhaps our enemies are not as many as we have been led to believe.”

  Cadderly had a sickening thought. “Or perhaps—” he began, but never got the chance to finish the sentence.

  Elbereth, detecting movement in the thick brush to the west of their hasty camp, motioned for silence and crept away.

  Danica, too, went on the alert, only she crouched low and turned toward the snap of a twig in the shadows to the east.

  “I have a bad feeling.…” Cadderly remarked under his breath. He quickly loaded a dart on his crossbow and took up his spindle-disks in his other hand.

  “Ogres!” cried Elbereth. Cadderly spun to see the elf engaged with two of the gigantic creatures.

  Danica disappeared into the brush back to the east, forcing Cadderly’s attenti
on that way. He turned again just in time to see an ogre bearing down on him, a net held wide in its long arms. Ten ogre strides away, the monster lurched as Danica burst out of the brush and rammed her shoulder against the inside of the monster’s knee.

  Cadderly heard the crack of the huge bone, but the ogre remained standing, though dazed—until Danica came charging back in, leaped high in the air, and double-kicked it in the chest. It flew down into a patch of brambles.

  Danica had no time to finish it off. A group of orogs appeared, and orcs beside them. Danica went into a fighting fury, spinning and kicking as the creatures flowed around her.

  An orc was the first to get to Cadderly. The young scholar leveled his crossbow to blast it away, but wisely decided to hold that shot until sheer desperation forced it. As the orc came in slowly, measuring its enemy, Cadderly set his spindle-disks spinning down to the length of their string.

  Cadderly was not well-versed in the Orcish tongue, but had picked up a few words and phrases from his readings.

  “Watch!” he said to the orc, trying to sound excited, and he sent the disks into a wide, looping circuit.

  The orc did watch, almost mesmerized.

  Cadderly snapped the disks back into his hand, continued his arm’s circular motion to confuse the stupid monster, and waded ahead a long stride.

  The orc’s head went back up, expecting the disks to go flying up into the air.

  Cadderly snapped them straight out instead, where they slammed under the orc’s raised chin and into the creature’s throat. The creature went down on its back, clutching at its crushed windpipe.

  Cadderly had barely registered that the orc was down when he heard a rush behind him. He spun and fired his crossbow point blank into an orog that had charged in to tackle him. The dart hit the mark and exploded, but the heavy creature slammed into Cadderly anyway and bore him to the ground.

  Cadderly struggled and thrashed for many moments before he realized that the orog’s chest was blown wide open and that the creature was quite dead.

  Elbereth spent a long time parrying, keeping out of the huge ogres’ tremendous reach and the paths of their monstrous clubs. For some reason, the monsters seemed to be only half-swinging, as though they didn’t want to crush the elf completely.

  Elbereth wasn’t about to let them hit him in any case.

  An orc sprang up from a bush to the side, just a couple of feet from Elbereth, and readied to throw a net. Elbereth was quicker, though, and his side-cut opened a gash in the monster’s face and sent it tumbling.

  The battle had begun in full behind the elf—he heard one of Cadderly’s darts go off—and he knew that he could afford no more delays. He waited for the exact moment then charged between the ogres, slashing and sticking as he passed.

  More harmful to the beasts, though, were their own clubs. They turned to swipe at the elf, but couldn’t match his quickness and wound up slamming each other instead. One of the unfortunate ogres caught its companion’s club in the head as it bent low to grab the elf. It spun two full circles before winding down to the ground.

  Elbereth was back on the other before it could recover from the force of the clubbing and the shock of downing its companion. The elf leaped right up the creature’s chest and drove his sword hard into its neck. The magical blade bent as it slipped into the thick hide, but its steel proved stronger than ogre flesh.

  The doomed monster did manage to slap Elbereth from it before it died, sending the elf flying into the brush between two wide elms. Elbereth was not badly hurt, but he knew he was in trouble. He looked up to see the tree full of waiting orcs. He scrambled as the first of the monsters dropped on him.

  Danica met the monstrous charge head-on, though she feared straying too far from Cadderly, still back in the original camp, and Elbereth, all the way over to the other side. She kicked one orc in the throat and took another down with three quick punches to the face.

  There were too many targets.

  Danica blocked one orog club between crossed arms and quickly snapped her arms back out wide, tearing the weapon from the monster’s grip. Her foot came straight up, catching the orog under the chin and launching it head-over-heels backward. Another orc rushed in from the side, and Danica, frantically turning, sent her foot flying out to meet it.

  A club smashed into her back, blasting her breath away. Danica resisted the urge to fall and stubbornly turned to meet this newest orc attacker, but an ogre crashed out of the brush suddenly and locked its huge hand on her head, twisting her neck dangerously to the side.

  Danica started to counter, but the orc’s club hit her again then orogs grabbed her arms and pressed against her.

  She thought her head would burst as the ogre’s great hand clenched and twisted some more.

  Warm blood dripped over Cadderly’s face and neck. By the time he was able to push his way out from under the dead orog, he was drenched with the gruesome stuff. He scrambled to his feet and loaded another dart.

  A large group of orogs, orcs, and a single ogre approached from the east. Desperate, Cadderly didn’t know who to shoot first. Then he saw the ogre’s cargo: Danica, held firmly by the head, with two orogs loosely holding her arms. The ogre eyed Cadderly and gave a quick twist, and Danica’s face contorted in pain.

  “Enough!” roared an orc from behind the lead rank. The creature moved cautiously around its ogre companion. “Surrender or me ogre breakses the girl’s neck!”

  Cadderly wanted to swing his bow around and destroy the arrogant orc, but he couldn’t deny Danica’s predicament. He looked to his love helplessly. He thought of his ring and poisoned dart but dismissed the notion. He didn’t even have his walking stick and doubted that the dosage on the tiny cat’s claw would even affect the large ogre.

  Then another thought came to him.

  Danica eyed him curiously then flashed him a wistful smile, and Cadderly knew she understood.

  Slowly, Cadderly lowered the crossbow toward the ground. It swung back up suddenly and the young scholar fired the dart into the ogre’s shoulder. The ogre hardly flinched at the explosion, but Cadderly knew he had hurt the creature badly.

  Danica knew it, too, could tell from the way the monster’s grip suddenly loosened. She dipped free, snapping her arms from her orog captors as she continued to drop. Her crouch brought her to the ground before she reversed her momentum and leaped straight up.

  The stunned orogs stared dumbfounded as the powerful monk soared into the air, rising above them. They had only barely begun to react when Danica kicked out to the sides, each foot smashing an orog in the face and sending it flying away.

  Danica hit the ground and whirled, punching straight out at her shoulder level, which was the same level as the wounded ogre’s groin. The monster bellowed and went back on its heels, and ferocious Danica pounded it again.

  “Stop them!” the orc to her side screeched. Another explosion sounded and the monster fell silent—several feet from where it had been standing.

  Cadderly wondered if their last ploy had been worth it as he watched Danica batter the ogre’s midsection. Would death be preferable to capture at the hands of such vile monsters?

  Orogs came at the young scholar slowly, fearing his deadly crossbow. Cadderly knew he was doomed, though he didn’t even realize that Elbereth was no longer fighting and a host of orcs was rushing in from behind.

  He felt a hot explosion as a club slammed against the back of his neck. His last sensation was the taste of dirt in his mouth.

  ELEVEN

  THE TROUBLE WITH TRAPS

  The goblin kept its back pressed against the tree for a very long time, not even daring to breathe. A dozen of its companions lay dead, their lives snuffed out in the blink of an eye, it seemed. The frightened goblin heard the steadily diminishing screams of its only living companion, the terrified creature putting more and more distance between itself and the site of the massacre.

  Finally, the remaining goblin mustered the courage to slip out fr
om behind the tree. It peeked around the trunk’s huge girth, and looked at its hacked and battered companions.

  No sign of the murderous monsters.

  The goblin crept out a bit farther and glanced all around.

  Still nothing.

  Still hugging the trunk, it moved around one more step.

  “I knowed ye was there!” cried a yellow-bearded dwarf.

  The goblin fell back and looked up to see a swiftly descending double-bladed axe.

  That business finished, the dwarf turned around to see how his brother was doing.

  The last living goblin screamed, running full speed away from them, knowing that the dwarf with the nasty club was just a few steps behind.

  “Oo oi!” the dwarf answered happily.

  With another pitiful scream, the goblin made straight for a row of enormous bluetop trees, thinking it might find an escape route through the massive trunks and thick roots. It saw, then, a beautiful human female, tan-skinned and with green hair, beckoning it her way. The woman pointed to the side, revealing a tunnel leading right into one tree.

  With no other options, the goblin asked no questions. It bent its gruesome head low, ran full speed, and hit the tree like a ram. The little creature bounced back two steps, perhaps still not understanding that the tunnel was no more than a dryad’s illusion. Blood flowed from a dozen gashes on the goblin’s face and chest. It nearly swooned, but stubbornly held its footing, stupid thing.

  The dwarf, lowering a club that more resembled a tree trunk, never slowed. The club hit the goblin, and the goblin hit the tree again, with considerable weight behind it. That impact hurt less than the last, though, for the wretched creature was dead before it realized what had happened.

  Pikel Bouldershoulder spent a moment considering the squashed object between his club and the great bluetop, honestly wondering how it once might have resembled a living goblin.