“Whatever. Name’s Grrafft. Smith by trade. If you ever need good Dwarven armor or weapons, come to me.”
“Thank you, Graft. I just …,”
“It is ‘Grrafft’, not ‘graft’. I am honest, I am,” the Dwarf interrupted.
“Oh, sorry there, friend Grrafft; I did not mean to offend,” Dusk apologized.
“None taken. Saved my life, you did.”
“I am Littletail,” the Faun determinedly interjected. “I do not know how I can repay you, but I will someday, too!”
“You are both more than welcome, and no repayment is necessary.” Dusk smiled a small smile. “Now, what I need to know is how far are both of you from your homes?”
“Not too far,” said Grrafft. “Something like a couple of days’ ride at best.”
“A long way for me,” Littletail looked sad. “I live on the plains on the other side of the end of the mountain range.”
Dusk whistled. That was a long way indeed.
“How did you end up here, Littletail?” he asked.
The Faun shuddered. “I was passed over to this wagon from another like it, which got me from the original wagon that had caught me. It seems there was someplace in particular I was supposed to end up. Thank you for preventing me from reaching it.”
“Oh, really?” Dusk raised one eyebrow. “This is getting more and more interesting. Over dinner tonight I would like you both to tell us exactly what happened to you, and then we will split the goods of the bandits with both of you as a sort of recompense for your ordeal. Tomorrow when we are ready to leave, you, Grrafft, can just take your share and go home, though some of us will go with you for protection’s sake. You, Littletail, will probably have to sell your portion to buy passage on a merchant’s caravan to your homeland. Some others of us will take you to Shedaur, the nearest settlement to here, where you can be sure to find somebody who can help you get home.”
Dusk left to inspect the scene. Auraus had done her Priestess duties, the animals of the caravan had been integrated into their own animals, and the warning pyramid was finished. Pleased, the Miscere Surface-elf hand-signaled his followers to create camp in the nearby woods for the night.
A little while later Dusk strode through the camp, double-checking the preparations being made for the evening.
“Everything all right?” Soloug asked casually from where he was sitting on a fallen log, sharpening his sword.
“You already know it is. I am not barking orders left and right like a maniac, am I?” replied Dusk with a grin.
Everyone who caught the conversation smirked to themselves, knowing that Dusk was never a maniac but could certainly get intense—especially if one of his Riders was in trouble. Soloug waved his arm to where the loot bags had been deposited. Dusk went over to them and began deciding how to apportion out their contents. Because of the uncommon circumstances, the best of the spoils and half of what money was found, he decided, were to go to Grrafft and Littletail. The rest of the booty would be spread out among the Riders to replace empty, missing or broken items and to replenish the fellowship’s coffers. While Dusk was busy dividing their gains, Mandor and Kessirithe, two long-mated black haired Gnomish rangers, made a stew that soon had everybody sniffing the air in appreciation.
After dinner Grrafft leaned back, rubbed his stomach contentedly, and addressed Dusk. “A fine rescue, money, and a good dinner. This has ended up being one of the better days I have had recently.”
Chuckles went around the ring of various beings, all eating and relaxing.
“But really, who are you?” Grrafft asked Dusk.
“I have already told you who we are,” said Dusk with surprise.
“Not all of you. Just you. There is more to the story, according to that burly Surface-elf,” Grrafft said, nodding in the direction of Tricoth for emphasis.
Dusk sighed, wishing the Dwarf had forgotten that part.
“You have got that right, Grrafft!” Tricoth said, grinning.
“Tricoth!” warned Dusk, tired of what the blond Surface-elf was about to say.
The Grey Rider ignored Dusk and looked animatedly at the two rescued folk. “His mother is the Goddess Quiris.”
CHAPTER 4
“What?” the Faun and the Dwarf both exclaimed, turning to look at Dusk with some awe.
Dusk glared at Tricoth as the other Grey Riders sat back and enjoyed the looks on the faces of the Faun and Dwarf—except for Auraus, who looked only resigned.
“Did he tell you this?” inquired Littletail of the burly Surface-elf.
“No, but Auraus grew up in the same village as he did, and she confirmed the relationship when I asked her.”
Auraus, never one to lie, shrugged in apology to Dusk as she nodded reluctantly in support of Tricoth’s statement.
Tricoth flashed a mischievous grin. “Remember when Quiris pretended to be a stranger and joined us for an evening, Dusk?” Without waiting for an answer he turned back to his audience. “I saw them together, and when I realized she was not saying Son just to be friendly-like, I saw the resemblance.”
Dusk grumbled, remembering when nearly two years ago his mother had decided to pay him a visit “as a traveler” just after he had started gathering people together for his raiding party idea. Auraus had been there, as well as Tricoth, Geldorin and Festille. Quiris had spent the evening laughing and talking with them all as if she was just a regular being, though she did slip and call him “son” a couple of times. During the conversation, Dusk had eyed his companions covertly and noticed with dismay the intent looks Tricoth had given both him and the “traveler.”
Later, as he had said goodbye to his mother long after the other members of his new band were asleep, Quiris vanished in her familiar way to return to the realm of the Divine. Dusk had sought his bedroll only to see Auraus’ head disappearing under her wings and Tricoth burrowing into his pillow. He had hoped then that they had not seen Quiris’ leave-taking; or, if they had, that neither would put two-and-two together. But it was not to be. Though Auraus had respected his privacy—and as she had grown up in Treestall it was not too far of a stretch for her to have figured out the truth—Tricoth had proceeded to take delight in re-telling the story to the others the next morning.
“And ever since then you have been the one to tell everybody we meet who my mother is,” he said, coming back to the present.
“Guilty as charged.” The smirking expression on Tricoth’s face said he was not in the least bit sorry. “We have a person with a Goddess for a parent in our midst, which makes for great tale-telling around the fire. It also makes me wonder how many other children of the Divine are walking around out there?”
Littletail squealed. “Oh! Is Dusk part Divine, too?”
Grrafft said almost on top of Littletail’s question, “Do you have other Goddesses and Gods dropping in to spend time with you, too?”
Tricoth replied with a wide grin, “He says no, but you never know; and the visit was just the once, but it is exciting to think that it could happen again!”
Dusk had enough at that point. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“What Tricoth said is mostly true, but he always leaves out the part that my mother had me BEFORE she ascended. I am just a regular Miscere Surface-elf,” he stated flatly.
“But …,” started the Dwarf and the Faun together.
Dusk cut them off. “But nothing. I am past tired of this subject, and I will take it as a personal affront if anything more is said on it. I am who I am because of my skills and not because of my birth. I stand on my own. Is that clear?” he said to them, then turned and pinned the burly Surface-elf with a steely glare before sweeping the rest of his band with the same gaze.
“Very well,” chuckled Tricoth, hands held up in mock surrender as Littletail and Grrafft fell silent.
The others, who’d had varying degrees of amusement on their faces, looked down or away in respect, though most still smiled. Dusk, having achieved his des
ired end after a fashion, glowered into the fire trying to recover his equanimity. After a while, Dusk remembered some unfinished business. He stopped staring at the fire and lifted his head to look at the Faun and Dwarf.
“You two owe us a story,” he said pleasantly. “How is it that you both came to be in a cage?”
“In short, the Ogre in charge said that we were now possessions, and that we were going to be taken to some special place,” replied Grrafft.
Dusk waited, but that was apparently all that the Dwarf had to say.
“And?” he prompted.
“And what? That is all we were told. You think that they would bother to tell anything to beings they considered beneath them?” harrumphed Grrafft.
Dusk nodded slowly. “I suppose not. Littletail? Do you have anything to add?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. I already told you how I came to this cart, but the guards at the other cart did not talk around me, either. I do not know any more than Grrafft does.”
“How were you captured?” he pressed her.
She twisted her fingers against each other. “I was out collecting herbs with a couple of others from my tribe, and I had ranged a fair distance away without realizing it. I had been singing to myself because it is just something I do when I work, when the next thing I know Goblins popped up out of nowhere, grabbed me and muffled my mouth to prevent me from crying for help. I dropped my herb basket as they whisked me away to their cage cart, which looked a lot like the one you pulled me out of here. As I was bundled away, I saw one Goblin pour some blood and scatter some chunks of what I swear was meat on the ground by my basket—probably to deter the others from looking for me by making them think I had been eaten by some wild creature, like a Field Catamount. Anyway, we travelled slowly for about eight days up into the mountains, and then I was transferred over to a second cart, which brought me to the cart you found me in. Two days ago, Grrafft joined me behind bars.”
Grrafft took up the tale. “That is right. Before I was stuffed into that cage, I had taken some gems from the mine I work with my family outside to charge them with sunlight. They were for a special item we have been hired to craft. The next thing I know, this blasted capture net falls down on top of me and practically immobilizes me. Oh, sure, I fought against it, but the thing stuck to me like glue and was stronger than I could believe. Then Goblins came, took the gems and threw them on the ground, and unpeeled the net from me just enough to get my hat off. Then they threw it plus some chunks of meat into the gorge beside us, then re-wrapped me and bundled me down the mountainside like I was a sack of coal. And they left the gems behind! Can you believe it?! Those were high quality gems, and they were just abandoned like they were dross!” The Dwarf shook his head disbelievingly. “The Goblins threw me in with Littletail like she said; two days and two mountains ago.”
He pointed in a westerly direction.
Dusk frowned. “Hmmm. And we came across some bodies, whose souls Auraus helped to the afterlife, and she had said that they felt somehow wrong to her. I had wondered if it was a first sighting of banditry, but this looks like it goes much deeper. It seems there is some kind of an organized operation behind the ones who go missing. It is almost too fantastical to believe—but evidence for it sits right here in our camp.”
He fingered the blue wave tabard hanging at his belt. “Did they say nothing to either of you of the symbol they all wore?”
The Dwarf and the Faun shook their heads.
The raiders murmured among themselves as Dusk fell into deep thought. It seems that Auraus’ gut reaction at the Rite for the hunters was indeed correct. We are where we need to be.
Littletail shyly spoke up. “How about some entertainment?” she suggested, eyes focused on her hooves.
“Are you offering?” asked Auraus, glad to seize a conversational change. “We often sing or tell stories around the campfire at night, but we always have the same ones. Let us hear something new!”
For answer, Littletail stood up and without preamble launched into a ballad of Longhorn and Surefoot. It was the story of two star-crossed Fauns lovers who had died in each other’s arms rather than remain apart and who were then set amongst the stars as a testament to their enduring love. The entire camp listened breathlessly as the sure, sweet notes poured out of the Faun in a virtual torrent. The firelight lightened the pale white blonde of Littletail’s fur even more, until Dusk could imagine that she was a candidate for the stars herself. When she was through everyone gave her a standing applause.
“That was beautiful, Littletail. You have quite a talent!” Geldorin applauded.
She stood there, somewhat flustered by the attention as the entire camp gave her a rousing cheer. Dusk sent up private thanks to Caelestis and his mother that he had been in the right place at the right time to save her from whatever her fate was to have been. To get the bandit raiders to stop their compliments to her, Littletail launched into another ballad of a Faun who had gone traveling far for what she wanted only to find it back at home again. When she was through, everyone broke into applause again. Dusk smiled and handed her a waterskin which she took and drank from thirstily. She sat down while the Miscere Surface-elf took her place.
“Thank you most kindly, Littletail!” said Dusk. “That was wonderful. Now, while you all are still listening ….” He then launched into the duties of the morning and how the escorts of their guests would be handled, to the cheerful grumbles of his band.
Minutia taken care of, the Grey Riders and their guests wended their way to their bedrolls. Dusk made sure the next set of guards on the duty roster were in position before making himself comfortable in his own sleeping space.
CHAPTER 5
The next morning the camp split into four: one company to escort Grrafft to his mountain home; one to escort Littletail to the settlement where she could buy passage home with her share of the spoils, and one to fan out to find and warn the nearest settlements of the possible problem in their midst. The last group was comprised of only Dusk and Auraus, who would remain in the area to scout for more signs of the organization with the blue wave symbol. When the other three groups had gone, Auraus and Dusk started out by heading up the trail the cage wagon had come. By evening Auraus was flying not far above Dusk, exchanging ideas with him as he rode his horse through a narrow scrub-filled rocky mountain pass. The setting sun and the jutting rocks alternated bands of light and darkness around them in a pleasing pattern.
Above the wind made by the sound of her own wings, the Wind-rider heard a strange whistling sound. She looked up to see a large weighted capture net plummeting down towards her from the mountain’s ridge not far above her. She screamed in reflex and folded her wings to drop in an attempt to evade it, but she did not have much room since she was already so close to the ground.
Dusk looked up, whipping out a sword at the sound of Auraus’ distress. He saw both the falling capture net and her dive, but the Wind-rider had heard the net too late. It landed squarely over her, covering her body, sticking to her wings and her arms and legs, and forcing her to choose between either landing or falling to the ground. She started to land, but her awkwardly altered trajectory made the edges of the net brush the hindquarters of Dusk’s horse, startling it. The black gelding reared in panic, and the amber-eyed Surface-elf slid backwards off the saddle and onto the net and Auraus, his weapons and arms and legs sticking to the net’s outside strands on contact. They fell together the rest of the way to the rocky ground in a bruising thump. Dusk’s elbow landed on Auraus’ solar plexus, and her sudden outrush of breath made him realize he had just knocked the wind out of her.
But that was not the worst. His stallion continued to jump and rear in panic. To avoid them getting hit by flying hooves, Dusk used what slack he had in the net to roll himself and Auraus to the side. But hauling the Wind-rider over him across the rocky ground only served to entangle them even further in the sticky strands. A scrabbling noise behind them alerted Dusk they were not alo
ne and why the horse still panicked. Five Goblins wearing that same blue wave insignia on their uniforms charged at them. The horse, squealing its terror of the oncoming Goblins, took off down the pass and left them behind. Auraus could only gasp for air while Dusk cursed a blue streak at the horse galloping away, at himself for not paying attention to his surroundings, and at the net he struggled to get away from before the Goblins reached them.
The Goblins leapt on and immobilized the pair of Grey Riders before either of the prisoners could find a way to defend or free themselves. Carefully, the Goblins poured a solution that allowed them to peel away in stages just enough of the net away from Dusk to take his weapons and bind him tightly with leather strips. They also took the tabard still hanging from his belt and argued over what to do with it. Auraus they chose to leave entangled. Though Dusk, and to a lesser extent Auraus who was still somewhat stunned, struggled furiously, it was to no avail. One Goblin turned and ran after the runaway horse while the other four paired up to carry the two bound prisoners; Auraus being carried in a blanket so the Goblin didn’t get stuck to her themselves.
“Let us go, or there will not be enough of you left for flies to dine on when I am through with you!” Dusk shouted, amber eyes snapping in anger as two of the Goblins hoisted him between them.
The Goblins looked at each other nervously but ignored him. Auraus had not yet gotten her breath back, so her pair had an easier time of it. The Goblins carried the two Grey Riders awkwardly to where horses had been picketed behind what looked like the remains of an old avalanche but turned out to be a well-established camping place. They were tied belly-down, side-by-side, over one of the unsaddled horses, where the sticky strands of Auraus’ capture net served to further hamper Dusk. The Goblins mounted the other horses and, leading the mount to which the prisoners were bound, headed up the pass in the direction they had been travelling.
Not too much later another canyon campsite was reached. Auraus lifted her head as best she could from the horse’s back to look around. It had taken her far longer to regain her breath than usual, but she suspected that was because of her position on the horse. The barren, flattish rocky site she and Dusk been taken had two wagons and a couple of tents parked in a circle around a large fire pit. Beside the fire pit was a pole with a blue pennant in the shape of a wave blowing gently in the late afternoon breeze. Two horses and two donkeys that were meant to pull the wagons were hobbled nearby.
The Grey Riders' Search Page 2
