by A. Giannetti
“We should boil them,” said Hagar.
“They are already tender enough,” objected Bruscius. “We’ll lose half the flavor of the meat boiling them. I say we spit them and give them a light roast over a fire.”
“Very well then,” said Hagar, “but first we must make them squeal a bit first, eh. It will make the meat tastier.” To emphasize his point, he pinched Flavian hard with his clawed fingers so that he gave a sharp cry of pain. Both the Goblins laughed at the noise he made. Inside the sacks, the children realized for the first time that their captors were not human, and they began to tremble as they realized the horrible fate which awaited them.
Once the Goblins reached their cave, they roughly pulled the children from the sacks. After relieving the pair of their silver, which the Goblins returned to their purse, Hagar and Bruscius tied them hand and foot before roughly dropping them against the wall to the left of the cave entrance.
“I am going out to check the mantraps,” said Bruscius to Hagar. “Don’t touch the two brats until I return.”
“Don’t be too long, then,” warned Hagar. After Bruscius left, he busied himself building up the fire. The two children watched with horrified eyes as he constructed a spit out of green wood. To frighten them even more, Hagar made a great show of measuring the sharpened spit against their bodies as if to make sure it was long enough. When all was in readiness, Hagar sat down next to them and began to whet his knife to a razor sharp edge. At each scrape of the blade across the stone, the children shivered in fear.
Bruscius returned then, empty handed but in a good mood in anticipation of the sport and fine meal he and Hagar were about to enjoy.
“What have you done to the little one?” he asked Hagar angrily, once he had a look at the children. Fabia was very still, her eyes glazed over with terror.
“I never touched her,” said Hagar in an injured tone. “I have been sitting here quietly sharpening my knife.”
Bruscius glared at him. “Whatever you did, it has ruined any sport we’ll have with her,” he said disgustedly. “I’ll warrant she won’t even squeak if I put a knife to her.” He drew his own black blade and leaned over Fabia. As his blade descended toward her tear streaked cheek, Flavian suddenly drew up his legs and kicked Bruscius in the face. The unexpected blow sent Bruscius into a towering rage. His eyes turned crimson, and seizing Flavian by the ankles, he dragged the boy over to the fire. “Hold him down,” he said to Hagar. “He’ll scream himself hoarse before I’m done with him.”
Hagar seized Flavian by the hair and ankles while Bruscius ripped open his tunic and shirt with a clawed hand. The boy went rigid with fear as Bruscius’s dark blade advanced slowly toward his chest.
THE RESCUERS
The sun was lowering in the western sky, casting long shadows across the ground, when the children’s parents returned from their day’s labor in the fields. Julian, their father, was the first to see the front door standing wide open. “The young scamps have disobeyed us and gone outside,” he said in an annoyed voice to his wife, Claudia.
“You cannot blame them overmuch,” she replied tolerantly. “It must be hard for them to stay inside all day with the weather so fine.”
They entered the house, intending to give the children a mild scolding, but there was no one inside. Still not overly concerned, they both went back outside and searched around the house and barn; calling out the children’s names, but there was no answer. “Where could they have gone?” asked Claudia who felt a wave of fear and panic welling up inside of her, for night was coming on.
“They can’t be far,” replied her husband reassuringly. “Remain here in case they come back. I’ll run down the road and ask Balbus to bring his dog. Carbo will soon track them down.”
“Hurry then Julian,” said his wife who was by now in an extreme state of anxiety. “We must find them before it grows dark.”
Julian sprinted down the lane to Balbus’s house and pounded urgently on the front door which was already locked against the coming night. Balbus had just sat down to supper with Elerian, and he started badly at the pounding on his door. After three visits from Ancharians whom he believed were Goblins or agents of the Goblins, Balbus’s nerves were badly frayed.
“Have they returned again?” he wondered fearfully as he leaped up and seized his sword. Cautiously, he opened the door. His relief at seeing Julian’s familiar face on his door step soon turned to concern as he listened to the farmer’s breathless story.
“I will come at once,” he said to Julian. After fastening Carbo’s collar around the dog’s neck and thrusting his knife into his belt, he took up his staff and knife and followed Julian, carrying Elerian in his arms. When they reached Julian’s home, there was still no sign of the children, and Claudia was in tears.
“Do you think it was the venetor?” she tearfully asked Balbus. “The front door was unlocked and open when we returned from the fields.”
“The venetor only comes out after dark,” said Balbus reassuringly. “It is more likely that your children have simply wandered off and have lost track of the time. Julian and I will search for them, but you must watch Elerian for me until we return,” he said, passing Elerian into the arms of Julian’s wife. Turning to Julian, he said, “We will need light, for the sun will set soon and also some article of clothing from your children so that Carbo will know their scent and be able to follow it.”
Julian disappeared inside his house and returned bearing a mage lamp and a tunic that belonged to his son. He had also armed himself with a stout staff and a long knife. It was growing dark by this time, and Julian held the mage lamp uncovered in his right hand as Balbus took the tunic and held it in front of Carbo’s nose.
“Find them Carbo,” said Balbus. “Find the children.”
Carbo sniffed deeply of the tunic and after putting his nose close to the ground, quickly picked up a scent trail by the front door. With growing concern, Balbus and Julian followed Carbo as he led them toward the boundary hedge. They soon discovered the hole that led through it.
“This opening was made with a sharp knife,” said Balbus to Julian after he had gotten down on his hands and knees to examine the ends of the branches around the hole.
“It was not there this morning,” said Julian worriedly. “Because it is so near the house, I check the hedge often to make sure it has not been breached. The hole could have been made by my children, I suppose. They could have taken it into their heads to enter the forest, despite all my warnings. Fabia, especially, is fond of tales of magic and is always talking about what wonderful things might exist in the forest.”
“Let us hope it is nothing worse then,” said Balbus, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. Carbo was already waiting on the far side of the hedge, and Balbus followed him with difficulty, for the opening through the hedge was a tight fit for his sturdy frame. Julian anxiously forced his way through after him.
Claudia remained standing on the doorstep with Elerian in her arms, watching with a sinking heart as Balbus and her husband disappeared from view. If her children were in the forest with night coming on, she might never see them again. The glow of the mage lamp shining through the opening in the hedge faded away as Balbus and her husband walked into the forest.
“My poor children,” lamented Claudia softly. “Will I ever see them again?” she asked, turning sadly to Elerian for comfort. Elerian made no answer. All his attention was focused on the hole in the hedge through which Balbus had disappeared. Elerian did know what had brought Balbus out to this strange farm with night coming on, but from the worried tone of the words spoken by the men and the woman, he was certain that there was trouble of some sort. When the crunch and rustle of leaves came to his sharp ears, telling him that Balbus had entered the forest, he decided to follow him in case Balbus needed his help. Wriggling suddenly like an eel, he slipped from Claudia’s arms and leaped to the ground. Before Claudia could do more than gasp, he landed lightly on his feet, ran swiftly to the hed
ge, and dived through it as easily as a rabbit bolting into its own familiar burrow. The loss of another child was too much for Julian’s overwrought wife. Already faint from uncertainty and grief over the disappearance of her own children, she took one faltering step toward the hedge before fainting and falling unconscious on the thick turf near the doorstep.
By then, Elerian had already run into the forest where he began to search at once for Balbus. The twilight was already deepening into darkness under the trees, and the color was fast fading from the landscape, leaving it in shades of gray and black, but the gathering darkness did not hinder Elerian at all. He saw as well in the dark as he did under the warm yellow light of the sun. After listening carefully for a moment, he heard the men moving in an easterly direction not far ahead of him. Slipping quietly through the trees, he quickly gained on them. Before long, he saw the yellow light of their mage lamp bobbing through the trees.
“I wonder why they brought the light?” he wondered to himself, for he did not realize then that the men could not see in the dark. Quietly, he closed the gap between himself and the two men, taking care never to glance directly at their light lest it spoil his night sight. When he was scarcely a dozen yards behind them, Elerian slowed his pace to match theirs. He took every precaution not reveal himself, knowing that Balbus would probably return him to the arms of the farmer’s wife if he were discovered. Out of sight in the wall of darkness that lay at the edge of the pool of yellow light cast by the mage lamp, he followed after the two men like a small shadow, his light steps making so little noise that not even Carbo was aware of his presence.
Nose to the ground, Carbo was following the scent trail of Hagar and Bruscius downhill toward the lower forest. His sensitive nose told him that they carried the two missing children Balbus wanted him to find. Behind him, the two men were forced to run to keep him in sight. As he followed Carbo, Julian thought of little but his missing children, but with each step he took, Balbus grew more uneasy. He began to question how the children could have come so far and so quickly through the dark forest. Even more disturbing was the change that had come over Carbo. His hackles were raised, and occasionally, he growled softly, telling Balbus, as clearly as if he had spoken, that something was amiss.
“I hope they have not been taken by Goblins,” Balbus thought to himself. Without being aware of it, he tightened his grip on his staff and touched the handle of his long knife with his left hand. He said nothing to Julian about his suspicions, for as yet, there was no real proof that the children had been kidnapped. The fear of Goblins preyed on his mind, however, and he began to fancy that he could see dark shapes slipping through the trees on either side of them. He started badly when pale eyes suddenly gleamed in the darkness to his left before vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. Balbus became so absorbed in keeping watch on their surroundings that, for a moment, he failed to notice that Carbo had stopped at the bank of a swift mountain stream.
“Why has he stopped, Balbus?” asked Julian worriedly. “Has he lost the trail?”
Shaking off his fears, Balbus watched as Carbo waded to the far side of the shallow stream, cast about for a moment, and then came back. He whined uneasily, for he was at a loss as to what he should do next. His keen nose told him that the Goblins had entered the stream, but they had not crossed to the far side, leaving him uncertain as to which way they had gone, upstream or downstream. He sat down by the side of the stream and looked to Balbus for guidance.
Balbus felt his heart sink, for he was now certain that the children had been kidnapped. It seemed unlikely to him that they would enter the swift stream on their own. The water was cold, for it was spring fed, and the far bank was almost twelve feet away. His fears were confirmed when he searched the ground and found a booted footprint in a patch of soft earth near the bank of the stream. Wading to the far bank with Carbo at his side, he and the dog made another search, but there was no sign that anyone had left the stream. Filled with uncertainty, Balbus waded back to where Julian waited on the far bank.
“Do you think someone carried them off?” asked Julian. He had also seen the footprint and was entertaining suspicions of his own.
“It is hard to tell from a single boot print, but it would seem so,” said Balbus. “There are no signs of any children’s footprints, which leads me to think that they are being carried. Their abductors must have waded either up or downstream to hide their trail.
“What do we do now?” asked Julian hopelessly.
Balbus knew that he could discover the direction taken by the kidnappers by using the finding spell in his walking stick, but he had begun to regret not bringing more men to help them with the search. If the children were in the hands of a number of Goblins, there was little that he and Julian could do to rescue them. Despite traveling through the forest in the dark, Balbus knew that Tullius’s house was not far away, for he and Julian had reached almost to the end of the hill on which Balbus lived. Notwithstanding the need to move swiftly, it suddenly seemed like a good idea to enlist the help of the mage.
“Tullius does not live far from here,” he said to Julian. “If you are willing to wait here to mark the trail, then I believe I can fetch him in a short time. It will be better to confront these outlaws with three men instead of two, and an extra pair of eyes will help in the search.”
“Hurry then,” said Julian anxiously. “Even now my children are no doubt being carried farther and farther away.”
Balbus feared the same thing, and hoping he was not making a mistake, he set off into the darkness, leaving the mage lamp and Carbo with Julian. Angling to his right, he raised his staff when he was out of sight of Julian and pictured Tullius’s home in his mind. At once, his staff began to pull on his right hand. Balbus followed the tug of his staff at a cautious pace, for the moon was dark, and the starlight did not penetrate under the trees. He never suspected that Elerian was following along behind him like a small shadow. Elerian, for his part, could have followed Balbus with his eyes closed now, for he was constantly tripping and saying things like, “A curse on these roots,” under his breath.
“One would think he cannot see at all in the dark,” thought Elerian to himself as Balbus stumbled over another raised root. Breathless and sweating, Balbus finally arrived at Tullius’s clearing. The mage cautiously opened his front door after Balbus banged on it with his staff and identified himself.
“What are you doing here at my door at this hour,” Tullius asked querulously, for he had just awakened out of a sound sleep and was still wearing a baggy nightcap.
“Julian’s children have been abducted,” said Balbus anxiously. “The trail brought us near your house, and I decided to ask if you would join us in rescuing them.”
Tullius narrowed his eyes. “I have felt that something was amiss in the forest, lately. Two woodcutters and a hunter have recently disappeared without a trace”
This was the first Balbus had heard of the disappearances, and it seemed to confirm that his fears for the children’s safety was well justified. “Will you come then?” he asked anxiously.
“It seems I must, before you get yourself into trouble of the worst sort,” said Tullius grumpily, but he hastily dressed himself and pulled on a cloak. He took no weapon but his staff as he followed Balbus out the door. After locking his front door, Tullius said, “Lumen,” and a small mage light about the size of an acorn appeared above his head, casting a small pool of yellow light about him. It was something that Balbus had never seen him do before, and he was exceedingly glad of the light. Off in the shadows, Elerian watched the light with fascinated eyes and wished that he could create one himself.
With the aid of the mage light, which always stayed in the same place above his head as he walked along, Tullius and Balbus made good time. Balbus’s staff soon led them back to the stream where Julian waited. When Tullius saw Julian’s light in the distance, he extinguished his own. “No use in causing talk,” he said softly to Balbus. Mages were generally viewed with sus
picion, and Tullius was careful to conceal his powers when he could.
When they rejoined Julian, he was impatient to resume the chase. Although Balbus had been gone only a short time, it had seemed like hours to the distraught father. “How are we to find the trail?” he asked Tullius at once.
“Carbo lost the track here by the side of the stream,” said Balbus to Tullius by way of explanation. “Perhaps if we both search, we will have better luck.”
Keeping in mind that Tullius had asked him long ago to keep the powers of his staff a secret, Balbus motioned toward his walking stick with his eyes, and Tullius nodded slightly, to show that he understood that Balbus was about to use the finding spell contained in the staff.
Balbus pictured the missing children in his mind, and his walking stick immediately pulled him upstream. Keeping his eyes on the ground as if he were searching for tracks, Balbus followed its gentle tugging. Carbo ranged slightly ahead of him, nose to the ground, aiding him in the deception. Tullius remained on his left side, also pretending to search for tracks. Julian followed impatiently after them.
After he had followed the stream for several hundred feet, Balbus said suddenly, “I think Carbo has found a scent.” He continued to follow the staff, but Julian assumed Balbus was following Carbo and never suspected that magic was now involved in the search. With Julian’s mage lamp illuminating their way, they hurried along in single file. Balbus now feared the worst if they delayed much longer in finding the children.
The staff led them along the bank of the stream which began to narrow as it climbed back into the foothills. Its banks began to rise steeply, forming the beginnings of a ravine. Carbo suddenly stopped, growling softly, and the men bunched up behind him. The children must be nearby,” said Balbus softly to the others. “We should put out the light so that it does not give us away.”
