“It could have easily gotten us killed as well,” Bravic said. “I told you not to pull that one out.”
“No, you didn’t.” Han planted his foot.
“I clearly did.”
“What you said was about as clear as mud.” Han’s hands went out. “Grab a cross tensional blah-blah-blah.” Han’s head wobbled back and forth.
“A Dwarf would have understood.” Bravic’s voice rose.
“I’m not a Dwarf.”
“That’s obvious.”
Dean climbed out. “Can you kids stop fighting until we get out so the giant snake doesn’t eat us?”
“Fine.” Han rolled his eyes. “You could at least say thank you.” He cast a sideways scowl at Bravic.
“For what?” Bravic roared. “Almost getting me killed?”
“How about thank you for letting a huge snake eat me, getting me half drowned and totally slimy so I could almost get you killed . . . I mean, try to help.” Han glared.
“For the first three things that you said, I thank you.” Bravic glared back.
“Kiss and make up, and let’s go.”
Both Han and Bravic made a face before they followed Dean to the edge of the collapsed structure.
“We can get out there.” Dean pointed to an opening in the side.
The creature’s lair was at the edge of the swamp. As they looked out, they saw the forest was only a short distance away.
“Let’s get to land before that thing comes back.” Han hurried out. “I don’t feel like being a piece of bait again.”
Dean let Han climb onto his back before he waded from the little wooded island and headed toward firmer ground. Bravic swore as he sank to his chin in the water.
When they reached dry ground, they hurried on for a little while. They still didn’t want to be too near the creature’s ruined home even if it might not be able to come onto land. The ground was still damp and mushy but a large stone hill rose up off to the right.
As they got closer, Dean noticed a small cave opening. The three crept up the hill and stopped at the mouth of the cave, all of them trying to see inside. The opening was tall enough for Dean to easily walk under, and as he cautiously peered inside, the floor seemed to be made of dry earth.
“Do you want to camp here?” Dean motioned the others forward.
As Bravic leaned into the darkness, a deep, guttural growl came from far back in the cave, echoing out a roar. A foul smell rose with it.
“If you tell me to imagine it’s a squirrel, I’ll beat you both senseless,” Bravic yelled as they raced away from the cave.
They traveled until the ground became solid once again. It was late in the day when they came to a small clearing and decided to camp. Tired and grimy, the three sat around a small fire, drying their clothes. They laughed as they saw they were all covered with dirt and grime, and twigs and leaves hung in their hair. As the night swallowed the faint light, they fell asleep beneath the starless sky in the now strangely silent forest.
CHAPTER NINE
Cowboys and Indians
When the three awoke, they ate a small breakfast since their food had been ruined in the swamp. Han picked some berries but he couldn’t hunt because his bow was lost in the swamp. When Bravic realized they were not far from the Elven forest of Kilacouqua, he decided to pass through it. It was just a few days walk to the north, and they needed supplies. With their spirits high from surviving the snake, their clothes dry, and the sun glowing like fire, they set off.
As they walked, Han sang a song of the Elvana:
With a hi and a hey!
We start along our way
Traveling down to somewhere.
With a hey and a hi!
We make the time fly
Traveling down to somewhere.
With a yip and a yeah!
We journey where we may
Traveling down to somewhere.
With a yeah and a yip!
We enjoy the trip
Traveling down to somewhere.
With a hee and a ho!
We sing as we go
Traveling down to somewhere.
If the road gets too long
Then we’ll just sing this song
Bringing us down to somewhere.
After two days, the forest slowly ended and changed into a sea of emerald green grass. Delighted the grass was the spongy type that felt good underfoot, they quickened their pace. With heightening spirits, they headed for the shadow that marked the beginning of Kilacouqua, the Elven woods. The edge of the woods seemed to only creep closer, no matter how they changed their pace. They began to believe the woods were slowly moving away from them but after three days realized that the next day they’d finally be at the edge of the forest.
That night, the clouds galloped across the sky. The thunder rolled like the sound of hooves across the plains. As Dean rolled over, just before the sun rose, his ear pressed to the ground, and he heard rumbling.
“Bravic,” Dean whispered as he shook the sleeping Dwarf awake. “The ground is rumbling.”
“That’s my stomach. Let me sleep,” Bravic mumbled as he rolled over.
“No, really. The ground is—” Dean could clearly feel the ground vibrating now. “We’ve got trouble,” Dean cried as he looked up and saw a line of silhouetted figures standing before the forest. It was still so dark all he could make out was there were hundreds of them.
As he spun around to tell Bravic, he saw another line of figures about five hundred yards away. They were also just barely illuminated by the rising sun.
“Han, Bravic, we’ve got big, big problems!” Dean’s voice grew louder as he shook the two fiercely.
Han rubbed his eyes and looked back and forth between the two rows of figures.
Bravic looked left and then right. “We’re in the middle of a battlefield!” He jumped up. “Run to the forest.”
“Why to the forest?” Dean ran after the Dwarf. “We don’t know if that side is the good side.”
“They’re Elves.” Han pointed to the line of figures at the edge of the wood. “Keep running toward them. Half are on horseback.”
While they ran, Dean looked behind them to see the vast line of figures surge forward. As the first dim rays of the red morning drove back the shadows, he saw they were Krulgs.
“I think this thing is about to kick off,” Dean warned, and all three burst into a sprint.
Suddenly, a loud, long horn blast split the air. As it faded, dozens more calls rang out. The Elves spurred their horses forward. The ground shook, and Dean felt his heart beat faster as excitement and fear caused a newfound energy to surge through him.
As the Elves charged closer, Dean looked upon the first Elf he’d ever seen. The warrior was dressed in rich, brown leather armor. Clasped in his bare arm was a small leather shield, and he had a long spear strapped to his back. He was slightly smaller than Dean, and he rode a dappled gray horse bareback. He had long brown hair that flowed behind him and revealed his thin, angular features. Across both his cheeks were two black and red stripes of paint, and on his biceps he wore a circle of leather with feathers that violently waved as he sped to clash with the enemy.
When the three came into the midst of the riders, they had to almost stop to avoid being trampled. Dean looked behind him and saw, only a short distance away, the first of the Elven riders had engaged the Krulgs. Screams and the crash of metal exploded outward as the battle raged just behind them.
Han sprang out of the way of a horse, lost his footing, and fell. He rolled over a few times before he came to a stop on his back. Another horse galloped straight for him. Just as the horse was about to trample him, a Krulg’s black arrow struck the rider. The Elf tumbled from the horse’s back. The horse neighed and shied around Han.
Bravic grabbed Han and ran over to the horse. “Get up on the horse,” he yelled as he lifted Han up and slung him over the back of the mount. “I don’t want you to get trampled.”
“But I c
an fight,” Han protested.
Bravic turned the horse around and gave it a stinging slap, which sent it galloping toward the forest with the Elvana clutching its mane for dear life.
Dean jumped to the side as more horses pushed him farther away from Bravic. He frantically looked around, but he couldn’t see the Dwarf anywhere. He grabbed the mane of a light brown horse and swung onto its back.
The battle now raged all around him, and a group of Krulgs was headed his way. He drew his silver sword. The red rays of the sun streaked across the plains and wrapped around the blade, causing it to flash bright red. The Elven warriors cried in triumph and pressed harder into the foray at the sight of Dean’s raised blade.
The sounds of the Elven cries and the toll the Krulgs had taken were too much for the Krulgs. They fell back. Like a wave collapsing on itself, the Krulgs that tried to turn around smashed into the others that pushed forward. Soon they fought one another as they struggled to retreat.
Dean spurred his horse forward as he saw one Elven warrior hard-pressed against three Krulgs on foot. His sword slashed down and dropped the one that turned too late to face him, while the Elf slew another one. The third’s gnarled hands reached for Dean and grabbed his waist, pulling him down. Dean’s free hand wrapped around his horse’s mane as he tried to fend off the Krulg. Suddenly, Bravic’s axe smashed into the creature’s back, sending it crashing to the ground. Bravic fiercely grinned up at Dean.
“Thanks. Ten o’clock,” Dean warned as a small group of Krulgs rushed them.
“O’what?” Bravic cocked an eyebrow as he raised his axe.
“Back to back.” Dean leaped from the horse and moved next to Bravic.
Bravic’s face went white. He remembered Braga saying the same thing.
“Get back on the horse,” Bravic screamed. “I will hold them this time.”
Bravic’s axe swept out in huge arc. He planted his feet and swung back and forth, smashing anything in his way to the side. Krulgs fell before him, and he screamed in unbridled rage. The Krulgs parted around the Dwarf who attacked them with a fury none had seen before.
Seven Krulgs broke away from him and went straight for Dean. Dean desperately blocked blow after blow as he backed up. A group of Elven warriors came to shield him from being swallowed by the undertow of the tide of the battle. Dean lost sight of Bravic as he fought off these new attackers. He fought side by side with the Elves, and as a group, they managed to drive those Krulgs back.
Bravic’s axe swept down again and again. Each time, a Krulg fell to the side. As he stood unmoving against the sea of Krulgs, a Varlug grabbed him from behind. Its burly arms wrapped around his chest and pinned his arms to his side. Bravic struggled to break its hold as a Krulg with a barbed spear rushed forward to impale him. Bravic tried to turn, but just as the Krulg got ready to drive him through, a horse raced up, and a small, snarling form vaulted onto the Krulg’s back.
The Krulg turned to fight off this unknown beast; Bravic panicked when he saw it was Han. One of Han’s arms wrapped around the Krulg’s neck while he punched the creature in the face with the other.
The Krulg struck Han with the side of its spear and, with a heave, flung Han from its back. Han rolled across the ground. At Han’s feet lay the broken shaft of a spear. He scrambled forward and grabbed it as the Krulg lunged at him. Han closed his eyes and pushed forward with the spear. The Krulg screamed, landing on the spear. As the creature fell over, Han looked at Bravic, who was still grasped by the Varlug.
“Bravic, duck!” Han screamed as he pulled out one of his little knives.
Bravic put his head on his chest. He heard the blade fly by and strike the Varlug in the throat. The beast gasped and staggered back. It ripped the knife out then fell dead.
The battle had turned. The Krulgs were retreating across the plain, but the Elves did not pursue them.
“I told you it was a good weapon.” Han grinned.
“Thank you. I owe you my life.” Bravic picked up his axe.
“Well, maybe this will teach you not to go throwing me on horses and sending me off just when things are starting to get interesting.” Han stood toe-to-toe with the Dwarf and glared up at him.
“Well, the next time you want to jump in front of a charging horse, I think I’ll leave you there.” Bravic thumped his finger against Han’s chest.
“You didn’t get me out of the way. I moved myself. Ow,” Han cried as he jammed his finger against Bravic’s chest, and it bent against his armor.
“Hail!” A loud voice cut them off. They turned as a mounted Elven warrior approached with his hand held in the air. “Stop your talk. Now you ride.” He gestured to two horses whose reins he held in his hand.
“I’m Hanil—” Han began to say.
“No talk. Ride.” The warrior’s jaw clenched as he leaned down and pushed the reins into their hands.
“How very rude,” Han whispered rather loudly to Bravic.
“Quiet. They’re Kilacouquen,” Bravic whispered back with a glare.
They got up on their horses and saw Dean approach on horseback. He was flanked by Elven riders. Dean greeted his two friends with a smile, but said nothing because of the stern looks of Bravic. Han got up on the horse behind Dean. They rode in silence, surrounded by Elven warriors, across the grassy plain, toward the forest.
Dean whispered back to Han, “Is this like Cowboys and Indians, or what?”
“Cow Boy? Is that like a minotaur? Part cow and part boy?” Han asked, wide-eyed. The lead Elf turned and glared. “Sorry,” Han mumbled with a shrug.
As they entered the edge of the forest, the three rode in the front of the procession of warriors and just behind the Elf who had greeted them. They traveled until almost noon, resting only twice, before they saw wooden buildings rise before them. As they came closer, they could see the structures stretched out among the trees.
Elves came out of the buildings and stood in silence, watching the return of the warriors. They were all dressed in similar forest shades—deep brown and rich green. Most were slender, with angular facial features and light brown skin tones.
Dean saw individual faces light up when they saw a warrior they recognized. They didn’t move, but he could see relief ripple through their bodies.
As they passed one home, however, a teenage girl stood in the doorway. Tears ran down her face as a warrior held out the spear of a fallen comrade. Her hand trembled as she received the weapon. She turned her head, and her green eyes locked with Dean’s. He could see pain there. He knew that pain well. Dean bowed his head and she did too.
He gripped the horse’s mane tighter and stared straight ahead. Dean remembered Panadur’s words. Unless he stopped Volsur, there would be more death. More tears.
Finally, they came to a stop before a very large building. The outer walls were flat and covered in bark that seemed to be part of the building itself. From the large archway in the center came an older Elf, dressed in a dull, green robe with long gray hair tied back in a braid. As he walked forward, a hush descended on the forest.
“How fared the Lords of the Woods?” His silver voice split the silence.
“The Lords of the Woods were victorious, as we’ve always been.” The lead Elf raised his spear and cheered loudly.
His battle cry was answered by all in the village, their voices becoming one.
“Then tonight we feast,” the older Elf proclaimed. He looked at Dean and the others. “You’ll be prepared to be received at the feast tonight, carrier of the sword of Panadur.” He turned and addressed a warrior who stood at attention at his side. “Before the feast, bring them to me.”
The warrior led the three to another wooden building, much smaller than the first. As they dismounted, a young boy took their horses, and the Elf led them inside through an open archway.
The room was brightly lit. Dean looked up and saw large canvas flaps on the roof were thrown back to let in the light. Painted leather tapestries depicting scenes from Elven life
and various weapons hung on the walls. There was no furniture in the room, only padded mats in the middle of the room and against the far wall.
“My name is Manitu.” The Elf that led them to the village bowed his head slightly as he crossed his right arm over his chest. “For now, rest. The feast will begin shortly.”
“Manitu, thank you for your kindness.” Bravic bowed low. “My name is Bravic Volesunga. This is Hanillingsly Elvenroot,” he held his hand toward Han, who bowed too, “and this is Dean Theradine.”
Before Dean could bow, Manitu stepped forward. “Dean Theradine? You not only bear the sword of Panadur but his name as well? Your father was a friend of the Kilacouquen; it is with honor I meet you. Ahulata will wish to know this.” Manitu turned and rushed out the door.
“I didn’t expect that.” Han grinned and held his hands out toward the doorway.
As Dean gazed at the opening, three Elven women entered with flasks of water and clothes, and one carried Dean’s pack. They set the water down between the mats in the center of the room.
“We are sent to see that you are ready for the feast,” the youngest of the women said in a high, golden voice. She held out his pack to him. “Manitu said this belonged to you as well.”
“Great. Our stuff is long gone, but you have yours?” Han pouted.
Dean shrugged. “Sorry.”
The girl grinned. “We have brought new clothes for all of you. We will lay them out in the baths.” She pointed to an opening in the far wall. “Is there anything else you need?”
“I’m starving.” Han moved around Dean. “Can I can get something to eat? You see, we didn’t have breakfast because we woke up in the middle of that fight. Then we had to run a long way and all that, and if this feast isn’t going to happen for a while, I’d like to get something to tide me over.” Han grinned up at the girl.
“We’ll come back with something, Hanillingsly.” She smiled sweetly and then turned and walked out the door. The other two girls moved into the other room.
PURE OF HEART Page 9
