The unfamiliar trickle of fear rolled up his spine at the memory of watching the Blademaster’s last round in the Pit. The dark elf had faced five well-armed and skilled Highlanders. As soon as they had shifted into their hybrid forms, the werewolves charged. The Blademaster had calmly drawn his twin sabers and proceeded to cut them to pieces with surprising ease.
Recovering his composure, Blackfang glared at the warrior with a conviction he truly didn’t feel and said, “Greetings Blademaster, I assume your mistress is inside?”
Darnac tilted his head to one side as he studied the barbarian with his violet eyes. “She left instructions not to be disturbed.”
Blackfang made to step past but was stopped by the cold edge of a knife at his throat. Swallowing hard, Blackfang stammered, “I…I’m sure she didn’t mean me!”
Darnac grinned coldly. “The mistress is meditating. She will not be disturbed by you or anyone else as long as the blood flows through my veins.”
The dark elf withdrew the knife and sheathed it slowly.
“If you have a problem with that you have two options, wait until summoned or attack me.” Darnac leaned back on the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I’m hoping you choose the later of the two, it is the more entertaining choice.”
Blackfang swallowed hard once again but kept his voice level when answering. “Since she is meditating, we wouldn’t want to disturb her, so I will wait.”
Moving over to sit on a nearby bench, Blackfang tried to regain a measure of his injured pride. “Besides, she would never forgive me if I killed you. Good servants are so hard to come by.”
Darnac just smiled.
The deadly dark elf just pulled out a whetstone and began to hone an already razor sharp knife. However, the grating of the blade on stone was more entertaining than the silence and he knew it would irritate the Highlander.
Chapter 7
Nestled deep in the ravine with the hills and trees around them, the companions spent a relatively comfortable night. The air was brisk with a gentle breeze coming from the west as the sun cleared the eastern horizon. In the dim light of the morning sun, Hawkeye studied his companions. They were a motley crew at best.
Rjurik was showing his age and no matter what the old dwarf would say, yesterday’s flight had taxed his strength. However, Hawkeye knew that the dwarf wouldn’t quit on him as long as there was a breath left in his body. He was as solid as the stone his kin loved. Hawkeye also knew if it came to a battle, Rjurik’s hammer and shield would make a solid dent in whatever foe they faced.
Mortharona, the dark haired twin, was a mystery. He seemed more aloof than the other two elves and rarely spoke unless it was to offer a snide remark. Of course, he had suffered a major head injury and a broken shoulder which he bore without complaint. In Hawkeye’s eyes that was an admirable trait.
Khlekluëllin, the blue haired twin, was his brother’s opposite. He was friendly, inquisitive and non-judgmental. He seemed to be the rock the other two leaned on and the overriding voice of reason of the siblings.
As Hawkeye’s gaze reached Tatianna, he paused to study her lithe body. Tatianna had rolled over onto her side in her sleep, hiding the bandages on her left cheek. She hadn’t spoken to anyone as far as he knew about what had happened to her at the Shrine.
Although he hadn’t seen it, he could read the signs they had left behind. Besides, he knew what despicable acts Blackfang was capable of committing. Judging from her actions, Hawkeye figured Tatianna felt self conscious about her wounds. Yet he found her more than beautiful, not in spite of her wounds but because of them. She had not let her injuries dampen her fiery spirit or even voiced a single complaint throughout their flight north.
With the coming of the dawn, Hawkeye roused his companions, starting with Rjurik. Tapping the old dwarf’s boot he said, “Time to rise sleepy head.”
“Hurmph,” snorted Rjurik. “Me thinks I found da hardest rock in da area ta sleep on last night.”
Stirring at the dwarf’s complaints, Khlekluëllin rolled over. “Impossible master dwarf. That honor goes to the patch of ground I am currently lying on.”
Without opening his eyes Morthrona added, “I’m not sure how anyone slept with the way that old dwarf snores!”
“I do not snore!”
Tatianna giggled as she sat up. “Yes Rjurik, you do.” Seeing that the old dwarf was about to explode she added, “But it’s not as bad as Mortharona says.”
Turning her head slightly, she noticed that Hawkeye was watching her and she felt the irresistible urge to stretch. Arching her back a bit more than normal, she grinned as Hawkeye quickly turned his gaze away.
‘Dammit Tatianna,’ she thought, ‘You’re a shameless flirt.’
Reaching into his pack, Rjurik pulled out a bundle of dried meat. Taking a large hunk, he passed it to Mortharona. With a distasteful look, he took a much smaller piece before passing it on to his brother. Khlekluëllin didn’t even hesitate before grabbing a large piece and passed it to Tatianna.
She took the offered parcel but looked up at her companions and said “I don’t particularly like meat. Do we have anything else?”
“This is the Highlands,” Hawkeye said. “You eat when you find food, drink when you’re near water and rest only where you feel safe. Anything less and you’re dead.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back to the north. “Your choice, eat or don’t eat. Either way we have many miles to cover before highsun.” Glancing back, Hawkeye softened his tone. “I would prefer you to eat something. You will need your strength in the days to come.”
Understanding the meaning in his words, Tatianna took a piece of the dried meat and handed the parcel back to Rjurik. Biting into the meat, she nearly choked on the harsh spices that assaulted her taste buds.
Rjurik grinned. “I forgot ta warn ye lass. The first bite tends ta ‘ave a mighty kick.”
Fighting back the tears, Tatianna forced herself to swallow as she moved to the stream. Kneeling down, she placed her lips in the fast moving water and drank deeply. Looking up, she could tell that the spicy meat had a similar effect on her brothers. Still coughing slightly Tatianna asked, “What…what did you put on that meat?”
“Hrumph! Just a few spices. It’s an ol’ dwarven recipe. It’ll put hair on your chin!”
Tatianna snorted. “As if I want hair on my chin!”
Before Rjurik could say anything more, Hawkeye stepped up. “Time to go. The enemy is on the move. I can feel it.” Looking around at the forest, Hawkeye’s impatience was noticeable to all. He whispered, “Something isn’t right”
Hefting his shield, Rjurik threw his backpack over his right shoulder. “We’re wasting daylight standin’ here a yappin’!”
The three elves exchanged looks of uncertainty before Khlekluëllin shrugged his shoulders and fell in behind the dwarf. The other two followed quietly.
The companions traveled through the morning hours, mostly sticking to small game trails but always heading north and east. Walking in single file with Rjurik in the lead, followed by Khlekluëllin, Tatianna and Mortharona a few paces to the rear. For most of the day, the companions would only get a fleeting glimpse of Hawkeye at areas where the trail would be difficult to discern or when cresting a ridge; sometimes he was hundreds of paces to their rear, obscuring any sign of their passage or several paces ahead to mark the proper trail. Just before highsun, the companions were crossing a ridge when they spied a small ribbon of smoke.
Khlekluëllin asked, “What’s that smoke up ahead?”
“That would be the trading post,” Rjurik said. “It’s run by some of Hawkeye’s people. Decent enough folk; outcasts from their tribes but very friendly.”
“It doesn’t seem like they would be able to make a living out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“It ain’t da middle of nowhere,” Rjurik said as he pointed to the west. “About fifty leagues dat-a-way is me homeland.”
“That’s not…”
“Quiet,
” said Hawkeye as he stepped out of the forest and onto the path in front of the companions. “Listen.”
All four companions froze and strained to hear whatever had Hawkeye upset but nothing could be heard even with the enhanced hearing of the elves.
“I don’t hear anything,” hissed Mortharona.
“Me neither,” Tatianna added.
Dropping to one knee, Hawkeye studied the forest around them. “That’s the point.”
Mortharona tossed his hands up. “What is that? Some sort of barbarian joke?”
Laying a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, Khlekluëllin gestured at the forest around them. “No. Hawkeye is correct. There’s nothing. No sounds at all; no crickets or birds, hardly any sounds from the trees moving in the wind.” He pointed to the ribbon of smoke. “Considering the nature of the trading post below, don’t you think there would be some sort of noise?”
Rjurik tightened the grip on his warhammer. “Now tha’ ya mention it, I don’t ever remember seein’ smoke from their homestead before.”
Mortharona shrugged his shoulders. “Bah! That could mean anything.”
Hawkeye could see that Rjurik was about to explode onto the dark haired elf. Stepping in between them, he spoke in a low calm voice. “What it means is that we need to be extra careful during our approach.”
Gesturing to Rjurik, Hawkeye commanded. “Take the rear guard position. The rest follow me slowly and as quietly as possible. We may find that our enemy is already ahead of us.”
Tatianna felt compelled to ask. “And if they are?”
It was Khlekluëllin who answered. “Then we make sure that there won’t be anyone left alive to report on our location.”
Hawkeye nodded his agreement before leading the way down the valley. Reaching the outskirts of the clearing, he raised his right hand and quickly closed it into a fist. Knowing this was the universal signal to stop; the elves stepped off the path and melted into the foliage of the forest. Hawkeye raised his head and sniffed the air; calling on the magical nature of his race, he transformed into a white wolf and loped off into the forest.
Khlekluëllin looked over his shoulder at Rjurik. The old dwarf just shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against a tree. One of the first things a warrior learns is to rest whenever possible.
Turning his attention back to the trading post, Khlekluëllin watched as Hawkeye moved slowly through the homestead. No other living creature stirred within the clearing.
The thin ribbon of smoke that they saw from the ridgeline wasn’t coming from a chimney but from a large bonfire in the center of the clearing. Seeing Hawkeye transform back into human form as he stepped out of the closest building, the companions moved cautiously into the clearing.
None of the elves were ready for the carnage that confronted them. The doors and shutters had been completely ripped off the buildings. The livestock, horses, chickens and sheep, had been slaughtered in their pens. The traders, the men at least, had been crucified around the bonfire. The women had been gutted and left to rot but it was the fate of the seven children that affected the companions the most. Tatianna froze as she came upon one of the children, a young girl who would’ve been about six or seven. The head had been hacked off the body and then hurled against the closest wall.
Tatianna felt her stomach lurch as she realized someone had also urinated on the headless corpse. Turning away, she could see that the remains of the other children had also been similarly mutilated.
All three elves paused, overwhelmed by the carnage around them. Elves have the oldest surviving empire on Terreth and can trace their heritage back ten generations before the dark times, before the war of the gods. Elves have earned the reputation as fierce warriors for their nation has been under siege nearly its whole existence. But this wanton destruction and callous slaughter of animals and people alike went beyond all reason.
Turning north, Rjurik and Hawkeye moved toward the forest with heads bowed low. Glancing back Hawkeye said, “Come we must go.”
“But… but we must bury them,” Tatianna said. “We must put them to rest.”
Hawkeye shook his head. “Nay. They stay as they lie.”
Placing her hands on her hips, Tatianna’s face became flush with anger. “How can you be so cruel?”
“Do you believe in the spirit?” Hawkeye asked.
“What? What does that have to do with the matter at hand?
“It’s a simple enough question. Do you believe in the spirit? Do you believe in some form of the afterlife?”
“Yes.”
Hawkeye pointed at the corpses. “If you believe in an afterlife, then what is lying here are empty shells, broken vessels that are nothing more than food for scavengers. The force that animated them has fled to a better life. Nothing beneficial can be gained by taking the time to bury them.”
Tatianna’s jaw dropped. “That’s so cruel!”
Turning back to the forest, Hawkeye spoke over his shoulder. “Be that as it may, they stay as they lie, undisturbed and unburied. Now, we must move.”
With one final look at the bodies, the three elves fell in behind Hawkeye and Rjurik.
Chapter 8
The weather began to turn colder as the companions travelled further north. Snow had begun to fall constantly, covering the Highlands in a white blanket which complicated their journey. The elves were still nursing wounds and couldn’t travel far without rest. They had covered less than seven leagues over the past two days due to the numerous raiding parties that were roaming the area. Hawkeye took extra precautions in selecting their paths; ones that would hopefully avoid any trouble.
The raiding units they saw were well organized and usually numbered about ten gnomish soldiers, five goblin scouts and one or two barbarians who acted as commanders. One unit passed within fifty feet of their hiding spot even had a cyclopean enforcer along.
Thankfully, the companions heard the raiders coming long before they could be seen. They had given up hope on finding help in this region of the Highlands. It wasn’t very populated in the best of times but since the raiders were patrolling the area, they had found only empty or burnt out homesteads.
On their third night out from the destroyed trading post, Hawkeye led them off the game trail they had been using, out of the protection of the trees and up the snow covered ridge. Scrambling over the broken rocks that littered the area, the companions were buffeted by the cold north wind. Soon they reached a point on the north-western slope where two large rocks stood like silent sentinels.
Hawkeye stopped and motioned his companions to a small opening behind the rocks. Stepping into the crevice, they discovered a small cave with a campfire already laid out and ready to light, along with a pile of sleeping furs and several boxes stacked against the back wall.
Moving inside, Rjurik immediately set aside his shield and backpack and began to light the fire. Mortharona stumbled in and promptly collapsed on the furs. His head wound had begun to seep again and he had found travelling the last few hours extremely difficult. Khlekluëllin and Tatianna paused at the cave entrance and studied their surroundings.
Khlekluëllin noticed that Hawkeye had not entered with them. Glancing at his sister, “Where did Hawkeye go?”
Tatianna’s eyes widened at the realization that he had left them. “I don’t know.”
A flash of light illuminated the cave as the campfire flickered into life. Putting away his flint and steel, Rjuirk spoke softly. “Now don’t ya be worryin’ about da pup. He’s gone off scoutin’ the area.” He pointed at the crates. “Now lass, make yourself useful and go through them crates and find us something to eat.” He handed Khlekluëllin an empty bucket. “And you can get us some water.”
“Where is the closest stream?” asked Khlekluëllin.
“Probably the bottom of the ridge,” Rjurik said turning away. “Personally, I would just fill it with snow but you can hike all the way to the bottom and back if you want.”
Khlekluëllin turn
ed and moved toward the cave entrance as Tatianna opened the first crate and asked, “Rjurik, what is this place?”
“This is one of our campsites. Many a time, da pup and I have had to travel this far north, either hunting game or goblins. If you want to live a long life in the Highlands, you tend to scout out defendable campsites long before you may need them.” He gestured at the supplies around them. “Then you outfit them the best you can and try to prepare for any situation.”
With a shrug, Rjurik pulled out an old battered pipe. “You never know when you will get caught in a blizzard or behind enemy lines.” Pointing with his pipe at one of the sacks Tatianna had just removed from a crate. “Would ya mind passing me that bag o’ leaf?”
Hefting the small leather bag, Tatianna raised one eyebrow. “Leaf?”
“Aye lass, leaf from da tobacco plant. That bag came all the way from Southfields.”
“Southfields? Isn’t that a halfling community near Asylum?”
Rjurik nodded and began packing his pipe. “Aye, it’s a small farming community mostly halfling families but a few dwarves have settled there also. My cousin Gram has a farm on the west side; every year he sends me several bags o’ leaf.”
Lighting his pipe from a coal out of the campfire, Rjurik took a deep pull. “Of course, this is the last bag. For some reason, Gram didn’t send a shipment this year. I hope nothing has happened to him.”
Khlekluëllin returned with his bucket of snow and Tatianna discovered some dried beef and beans. Rjurik pulled some potatoes out of his backpack and proceeded to combine everything into a stew. The small cave became filled with the wonderful aroma making Khlekluëllin’s stomach rumble loud enough that everyone awake could hear it.
Giving the stew another stir, Rjurik flicked a glance at the blue haired elf. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re hungry.”
Sitting cross-legged, Khlekluëllin smiled. “Until you began cooking, I’d forgotten how hungry I was.” Scratching his chin, he added, “Which doesn’t make sense. We have eaten rather well these last few days all things considered. I never knew that rabbits were so abundant in the Highlands.”
Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf Page 6
