The Fur Trader

by Sam Ferguson

  A thump sounded in the distance to his right, jolting awake his reflexes and causing him to spin around and put his hands up in preparation of an attack.

  Nothing came.

  Maybe another deer. Seidrif sighed and shook his head. Perhaps it would be better to have some amount of light to use. He pulled the crystal out once more and whispered to it gently, speaking the incantation that brought forth a gentle glow. This time, instead of letting it dangle from a chain around his wrist, he held it firm in his left hand, making only a narrow slit between his left index and middle fingers to allow for some light to flow out. He used this method to shine the light on the spot where he had heard the sound just moments before.

  As he had suspected, a stunned pair of doe eyes looked back at him, head still and neck strained as the deer’s ears twitched back and forth. Then, it bolted off through the forest, hooves sounding like thunder in the otherwise silent trees.

  Seidrif kept the light pointing downward at the snow, doing what he could not to announce his presence to the campers beyond. He crouched low as he moved down the hill and into a small ravine. He fully enclosed the glowing crystal in his fist as he came up over the other side. The fiery red glow was closer now, its light dancing upon the trees and snow.

  The wizard smiled to himself. The rage within him compelled is feet forward. Now he would surprise the traitor.

  He stealthily made his way through the trees. The glow grew bright enough now that he could extinguish his own crystal entirely once more. He moved from tree to tree, hiding behind one for a moment or two before moving closer.

  Soon he could hear the fire popping and crackling off in the distance.

  Seidrif peered around a tree and studied the camp. A lean-to was built up against a small hillock, nestled up against a large, gray boulder. His eyes scanned the area. Where were those dogs? He would have to bring them down first if he wanted the element of surprise.

  As he searched in the firelight, he saw a mass of fur near the fire. It appeared as though the dogs were asleep. The thought occurred to him that if he wanted the dogs to stay out of the fight, he would do better to overwhelm them before they woke. He had the power to obliterate the camp at once. This way he could finish the dogs, the traitor, and the guide all at once. The only problem was the child. If he poured everything he had into the spell, there would be no way to spare the child from the magic.

  He knew his king would not be pleased if the child was hurt. He had almost decided to stay the stealthy course but Seidrif’s anger boiled over his reasoning when he saw a shadowy form move into view with his back to him. A trap hung from the man’s left side, dangling and clanking as it swung on the belt. It was the same kind of trap that had brought his horse down. Had it not been for that trap, he would have been with his brothers, and they would not have died. No, there would be no mercy this night. Better to explain that the battle got out of hand than let his brothers’ blood cry out for vengeance and go unsatisfied. The wizard stepped out from behind the tree and summoned all of the strength he could muster into one, staggering spell. The trees rustled as wind gathered in his hands. The shadowy form turned around to find the source of the noise, but by the time he saw Seidrif, it was too late.

  The bearded wizard let loose his crushing wall of wind. Trees snapped, snow flurried before him as though whipped up into a blizzard, and the man in the camp was thrown onto his back, tumbling over the fire and slamming into the lean-to, which in turn splintered apart.

  Seidrif walked easily through the cleared forest area, admiring his handiwork and studying the fallen branches now covering the camp. He smiled at his power, but the elation was short lived. He walked near a large branch that had landed across one of the dog’s backs. He studied the fur and realized it was no dog, but a wolverine. The mess of fur next to him was a wolf, not unlike the ones that had been at the previous battle scene. Seidrif cursed the night when he saw the tell-tale broken legs and lines of blood on those two animals. These were not the trapper’s companions, they were his prey.

  The bearded wizard lifted the branches and trees from the camp with another spell, letting them hover twenty feet above the fire, which was struggling to rebuild itself after the spell’s bombardment. Along with the trees and branches, the lean-to went up into the air. Seidrif’s fury boiled hot again as he discovered only one bedroll.

  “Who…who are you? What do you want?” a man groaned from the ground.

  Seidrif turned and narrowed his eyes on the trapper. “The traitor and the child, where are they?”

  “The who?” the trapper replied as he held out a hand. “I work alone, no one is with me!”

  Seidrif could see the truth of the situation in the trapper’s pained, terror-filled eyes. This was not the right trapper. The bearded wizard snarled and flicked his wrist. All of the rubble circling in the air above coalesced into one massive pile of wood before dropping down and burying the screaming trapper. The wood crashed and splintered and the man’s screams were cut short. The bearded wizard then levitated each of the burning logs from the fire and sent them to the tangled mess of wood. The fire took some coaxing, but it caught onto the rest of the pile soon enough.

  Within minutes, there was a fire roaring to life in the forest.

  The wizard put his back to the destroyed camp, and continued his search for the child.

  *****

  Garrin put his hand out suddenly and halted the group. “Did you hear that?” He turned around and scanned the forest.

  “Avalanche?” William posited.

  Garrin shook his head. “Those aren’t very common in these parts.” He strained his eyes. Off in the distance he could see the glimmer of a camp fire. “Perhaps the wizard has given up for the night and decided to set up camp.” The trapper pointed to the fire and Richard and William turned to look.

  Something bumped against Garrin’s hand. He looked down to see Kaspar pushing against the canister’s lid, which was blocked by Garrin’s hand.

  “Sorry,” Garrin said as he moved. Kaspar came out and climbed up to sit upon the trapper’s shoulder. “What do you see?” Garrin asked.

  Kaspar watched the fire, the light reflecting in his eyes, and then he chattered low and quiet.

  Garrin nodded. “It’s the wizard.”

  “Look!” Richard gasped.

  Something large rose up in the darkness, nearly covering the fire’s light.

  “What in Hammenfein can that be?” William asked.

  Garrin shook his head. As he watched the scene unfold, the dark shape fell once more. A few moments later, the fire seemed to jump in the darkness. Then it grew. A chill ran down Garrin’s spine as he watched it.

  “I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to find out either. Let’s move.”

  Fortunately, they had already come to the mouth of a cave. The crystal was hovering a few yards inside, waiting for them. Garrin instructed the others to head into the tunnel a ways while he stayed near the entrance and set up a few surprises of his own for the wizard.

  His first set of traps wasn’t overly elaborate. In fact, it was only a series of tripwires. He tied them across the floor of the cave, just a few inches above the ground and secured to roots or other stable objects he could find. It wouldn’t kill the wizard by any means, but if he managed to trip the man, then the split-tails would for sure hear it and the camp would be alerted. If he got extremely lucky, maybe he could get the enemy to knock himself out.

  Once he finished with four tripwires, he moved down into the cave, inspecting the walls as best he could for other ideas. He found one more area that was perfect for the last bit of small rope he had. It took some doing, but he was able to thread the rope along the floor for a tripwire, and then up the wall behind a large root and then across the ceiling. He used the slack to tie a long piece of wood he found and then hoist it up to the ceiling. Lastly, he pulled all the remaining rope back through the tripwire so that it was snug. When he was done, the trap hung next to the
ceiling, waiting to fall upon any invader once tripped.

  Satisfied that he had enough to at least slow the wizard, he moved to catch up with the others.

  He found them another fifty yards in the tunnel, standing before a large door carved from stone.

  “What is this place?” William asked.

  Garrin shook his head. “I have found a few ruins during my time in the mountains, but this is not one I am familiar with. This must be one of the larger ones that Brent had been searching for.” The door was easily ten feet wide and half again as tall, made entirely of stone and covered with a light layer of dust and a couple of cobwebs spanning the upper corners. Garrin stepped in front of the others and inspected the strange runes in the door. It was not a language he recognized.

  “Do you know what it says?” Richard asked.

  Garrin shook his head. “I only speak Common Tongue. It could be Taish or Peish for all I know.”

  “Bah, I don’t know too many elves who live underground,” William said. “Has to be Peish. Only the dwarves would live down here in a tunnel like this.”

  Garrin shrugged. It seemed like a logical enough answer. He glanced up to the crystal, which was hovering and spinning in the air nearby. “The woman who gave me this was no dwarf,” he said. “Maybe this is something from her people. She called them the Punjak.” The trapper turned to see a visibly shaken William. The man glanced nervously to the crystal and then back to the door.

  “Is that a problem?” Garrin asked.

  William took in a breath and shook his head. “No.”

  The answer came a little too flat for Garrin’s liking. There was something William wasn’t saying. The trapper looked to Richard, who was yawning wide and shivering in the cold. There would be time to understand William later. Right now, Garrin had to get the boy to a place where they could rest and warm up.

  “Let’s open it,” Garrin said as he reached his hand for the large, iron ring. The door didn’t budge.

  “Yeah, we tried that,” William said. “I may not know the mountains, but I can figure a door out.”

  Garrin sniggered at the quip and let it roll off his back. He bobbed his head around, looking for a keyhole, but he didn’t find anything. He tried pressing on the door next.

  “Tried that too,” William said.

  The trapper took a step back and looked up at the door. “Maybe it requires a password, or a magical spell.”

  “Well, none of us can use magic,” William replied.

  Garrin nodded. “Nor can we read the runes to try passwords,” he said with a sigh. “I suppose we can try to sleep in here. Kiska and Rux will wake us if the wizard comes in.”

  “What if he takes his fireball and burns us out?” William asked. “By the looks of the fire we saw, he might be able to do that. We’d be safer behind these stone doors.”

  The trapper nodded. “True.” He looked around the area, but didn’t see anything he could use. There were no levers, gears, or clues for opening the door. Kaspar, who had crawled back into the canister before entering the tunnel, reemerged and leapt up onto the stone step in front of the door.

  “Oh, look, the rat will open the door for us,” William scoffed.

  Kaspar turned back around and offered what sounded like a high-pitched dog bark in William’s direction, then he turned back to the stone door and walked up to it slowly. He put the top of his head against the stone and began chattering quietly.

  “Look!” Richard called out.

  Garrin smiled as the runes began to emit a soft, maroon light, starting from the left-most character and going through one by one until they all glowed bright. The door swung in as easily as if it were made of paper. Kaspar turned back to William and looked as if he stuck his tongue out at the man before turning back around, tail held up triumphantly in the air, and walking through the entrance.

  The crystal dipped in the air and went in after Kaspar.

  “What did you say that weasel was again?” William asked Garrin.

  The trapper slapped William on the shoulder. “Kaspar is a Dryfoot mink. Come, let’s get inside.”

  Garrin led the others in, with Rux and Kiska bringing up the rear. The door slowly swung closed after them, leaving them inside a large, square tunnel of chiseled stone with round, wooden pillars lining the sides. Each of the pillars had runes carved into the wood, and was crowned with a ring of gold.

  “That’s real,” William said noting the golden rings.

  Garrin nodded. “Perhaps I will have to stop by here on my way back,” he said.

  “Aren’t I paying you enough?” William poked sarcastically.

  “Call it a tax for fighting wizards, you did fail to mention that particular aspect of the job you know,” Garrin quipped.

  William stopped and put a hand on Garrin’s shoulder. “You must understand, I was in a tough spot, and I have to make sure Richard is safe.”

  The trapper could see the sincerity in the man’s eyes. He nodded and let the subject go at that. William, on the other hand, continued to explain.

  “Besides, I had hoped we were far enough ahead that we wouldn’t get caught by them.”

  “It’s all right,” Garrin said as he turned and began walking again. The crystal was now hovering in place, waiting for them. Kaspar also seemed impatient, standing on his hind legs and chattering away angrily. “Pipe down, Kaspar,” Garrin said. “Or I’ll feed you to Kiska for dinner.”

  Richard shot Garrin a look that made the trapper laugh.

  “Not to worry, I threaten him all the time when he gets like this,” Garrin said. “Besides, Kiska won’t go for him anyway, not enough meat on the bone.”

  Kaspar squeaked shrilly and then turned and ran down the tunnel ahead of even the floating crystal. Garrin soon understood why when he saw a second door. The Dryfoot Mink was already setting his head to the stone and the runes were beginning to glow.

  “Handy little friend,” William said. “Where’d you say you found him?”

  “I didn’t,” Garrin replied evenly. The trapper quickly changed the subject by pointing out a large set of stalls off to the right. “Looks like we stable the horse here.”

  “Look, there’s even hay here,” Richard pointed out.

  Garrin looked to William, who only frowned and scrunched up his brow.

  “How long can hay last, a few years maybe?” William asked.

  Garrin shrugged. “I don’t raise cattle or horses,” he replied. “So, I wouldn’t know. But I wouldn’t think it would last centuries. If this is a Punjak ruin, then there shouldn’t be hay or anything here.”

  The horse pulled away from William and went to the stable and began munching on the crisp hay with pleasure.

  “Well, I suppose it’s better than foraging through the snow,” William said with a shrug.

  Kaspar stood up on its hind legs and chattered, his teeth clicking and his tail switching behind him.

  “All right, all right,” Garrin said to the animal. The three of them went into the next doorway, which was only large enough for humans and wouldn’t have allowed the horse through in any case, and then they stopped dead in their tracks.

  “Icadion’s beard,” Garrin muttered under his breath.

  Before them was a rectangular chamber, filled with wooden tables that in turn had open crates upon them. Some of the crates were filled with spider webs and dust, but others had candlesticks, short swords, bucklers, or jewelry. It looked to be some sort of market. Each table appeared to have items of a similar type grouped into the crates on top. Garrin surmised that the crates filled with dirt and old mold had likely started out holding food of some sort. He skipped the first table and went to the next, which had four boxes of knives, arrows, and short swords.

  William and Richard went to look at other tables. Richard went to a box and pulled out a wide copper bracelet with a turquoise stone set into it, while William tugged at a dull buckler and held it in his left hand, swinging and pushing it around as if in a fight.<
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  “It’s solid,” William said. “Well made.”

  Garrin nodded and pulled up an obsidian dagger. He turned it over in his hand and scrutinized the edge in the red light of the crystal. “Age has not dulled their weapons much either,” Garrin commented over his shoulder. He smiled as an idea came into his mind then.

  “Look around for some rope,” he said.

  “Rope?” William echoed.

  “I can set a few fun traps for our wizard friend, then we can get some sleep for the night.”

  “I’m hungry,” Richard said.

  “William, you have the bag from the bear hang, give it to the boy and then come give me a hand.”

  Richard frowned when William opened his pack and handed him the bag of food.

  “There’s nothing but oat rolls and dried meat in here,” Richard whined.

  “Better than a kick in the backside,” Garrin said.

  Richard ate while Garrin and William hunted down some rope and then built a web of swords and knives behind the door they had just entered. Once they had the tangled contraption rigged to stab through the doorway upon opening the door, they took another length of rope and hung three crates filled with bucklers above the doorway and set them to be activated by stepping on a loose stone in the floor, which would in turn pull an iron pin out of a mechanism off to the side that would then allow the crates to fall. Given the tripwires he had already set at the cave entrance, Garrin wanted to use a pressure plate further in.

  “You learn these traps up here in the mountains?” William asked once they had finished.

  Garrin shook his head. “I wasn’t much use with a sword or a bow, but I was a deadly spearman, and if I had any time on my side, I was a trap master. I slew far more Tarthuns with my traps than I ever ran through with my spear.” Garrin turned to William and grabbed the man’s shoulder to drive the next point home. “And I killed a lot of Tarthuns with my spear.”