Pain! Sharp. He felt the hammer crack against his other shoulder and his head recoiled, shaken by a stiff blow. The troll kicked him and his neck went numb. Maringar seethed with anger and stifled his desire to curse at the brute. What good would it do? Trapped as he was, the next blow would likely knock him out and then it wouldn’t matter what the troll did to him anymore.
The more he tried to shift and maneuver his legs, the deeper they wedged themselves into the soft, wet ground beneath him. He stopped moving and gritted his teeth in frustration. Taking a deep breath, Maringar envisioned where the troll stood, picturing the malicious grin on its face. Its odor was unmistakable, which made it just a bit easier. He flexed his muscles without moving to make sure his arm wasn’t atrophied from laying motionless all this while. His arm still had strength and he straightened it until his weapon was parallel to his body instead of lying across his chest. Then he waited for the right moment.
He suffered another blow to the head, certain this one drew blood, and his vision blurred. The pain radiated through him like a needle jamming into his skull. He clenched his jaw and stayed as still as he could. Maringar knew the troll could kill him just as easily from a safe distance as he could from nearby, but trolls were dumb. He’d enjoy the torment more if Maringar cried out and pleaded for his life, but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for an opportunity, probably his last. Listening to the snorts and hoots of his tormentor, the anger rose up inside of him with each harassing attack. But so did the pain. It was getting worse.
He focused on the sounds behind him, estimating the troll’s distance at a few feet away. Its wheezing breath was close, very close, he could hear it, smell it, and he could just about feel the hot, rancid air on his face. The last jab to his shoulder ripped right through the leather of his vest leaving a ragged gash in his skin, but he remained still. The troll laughed in its rasping, guttural way. He waited for Maringar to respond, to cringe and cower in pain and fear, but he didn’t and that kept the troll interested. He wanted the satisfaction of getting him to cry out, to plead for his life. Provoking Maringar over and over, he hoped only to see the expression on his face when he finally succeeded.
A soft crunching sound assured him the troll’s big foot was very near the right side of his own head. And the odor! Closer. Closer. Another step. Maringar waited, unmoving. Can’t miss. He shifted his axe in his hand. Swinging it around in a full arc as fast as he could, he caught the creature square on the ankle, slicing through its flesh and shattering the bone beneath it with an audible crack.
Shrieking in pain, the troll’s warm blood spurted out, splattering Maringar’s arm. Jumping away from him, Maringar heard it tumble to the ground with a thud, yelping like a wounded dog. His sharp blade did its damage. The beast could no longer stand on its own. Dragging its bulky body along the ground, it retreated to a nearby tree stump, leaned against it and pulled a string of thick animal gut from the sack that hung upon its belt. Tying it off above its splintered bone, it pulled the tourniquet hard, wincing and moaning. Its pain was turning to rage and all it wanted now was to squash the trapped dwarf’s head under a rock and watch its miserable brains spill out onto the wet surface.
Struggling to its feet, huffing and snorting, it picked up the largest boulder it could get its grimy hands on while hobbling forward, its wounded leg scraping along the ground, it stopped just short of the dwarf’s reach. Maringar closed his eyes and girded himself against the next attack, having only his axe to shield him. His blow wasn’t hard enough. The troll could still walk and Maringar’s arm was too weak to fight back. The beast grunted and snorted, and he knew he had only moments remaining. He closed his eyes and waited.
It crashed down upon him. A ponderous weight lay on his chest, covering his face, crushing his ribs. The stench was unbearable. The pain numbed him and he couldn’t tell where he hurt most. He couldn’t see and it was hard to breathe. Whatever was on top of him was suffocating him and he couldn’t budge it. He felt warm blood running down his chest.
What’s he doing? Smothering me! Can’t feel anything. Numb… He was losing consciousness. His thoughts drifted away.
“Maringar! Maringar!” He heard a voice call out.
Beolan! It was Beolan. “How? What?” he tried to speak but he couldn’t open his jaw enough to get the words out.
He lay there as Beolan pushed the body off of him. As it slid to the side, he felt the arrow that pierced the troll’s throat from back to front, scratching across his chest. In a minute, the filthy mountain troll lay beside him, it’s face a bloody ruin, its beady eyes still open and frozen in a death stare.
“Thank the First, Beolan,” Maringar gasped. “How’d you find me?” He tried moving his arms but they were sore and stiff. Nothing was broken though. He could feel his fingers. He let the feeling return to his upper body, but his legs were still trapped beneath the tree stump.
“It wasn’t hard to follow the troll’s trail. He made no effort to conceal it. Besides, I saw his horse standing in the clearing over there,” he pointed to the dappled destrier scrounging for grass about twenty yards ahead. “They must have been washed to this side when the water wall rushed through. When I climbed over the edge, just before it took you under, I saw the water rising on the other side too. Most of them probably drowned or retreated, but this one wasn’t so lucky.”
“I almost wasn’t either. He would have killed me if you hadn’t shown up. I got him good, but my blow wasn’t fatal,” Maringar said, still unable to move freely.
“Let me get this tree off of you and then we can see if those legs of yours still work,” Beolan replied. “We have a ways to go yet before we get to Odelot.”
“Do you have the key?” he asked, afraid of what the answer would be.
“Yes, my friend. I have it,” he reassured Maringar while releasing him from his captivity.
Chapter Twenty
Alemar lay curled up in the middle of the large bed. Giles was sprawled upon the hard wood floor, a musty rug wrapped around him. Teetoo and Premoran were not in the chamber. Alemar awoke with a start and noticed their absence right away. She slid off of the bed and knelt beside her sleeping friend.
“Get up, Giles,” she shook him. “The sun is shining already and the others are gone.”
Giles rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands and blinked away the fatigue. His sleep had been restless, his dreams riddled with images of his friend Clovis. He faced the new dawn with a profound sadness, and he clutched the carpet around him like a security blanket. He’d never seemed vulnerable to her before now.
“Where have they gone, do you suppose, Princess?” he asked, sitting up. His body was stiff and he was still tired despite having slept all night.
“The First only knows,” she replied in as lively a voice as she could muster. “I can’t believe we didn’t wake up when they left.”
“A wizard and a Weloh, my Lady? You’re surprised?” he asked. One was more secretive than the next.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be,” she agreed. “Let’s find them in any case,” she said, pulling a small comb through her hair before tying it up in a knot at the base of her neck, leaving only a few loose strands hanging down over her ears. She glanced at herself in the cracked looking glass that hung upon the wall in front of her, then threw her cape around her shoulders and walked to the door. “Are you coming?”
Giles rubbed his face once again with his hands and splashed some water across it from the basin on the dressing table. He too grabbed his cape, but he tossed it over his arm.
“Must we still conceal ourselves?” he asked.
“Is this morning any different than last evening?” she replied.
“How would anyone out here recognize me?”
“You underestimate your reputation, Giles. Word travels fast when the information is valuable,” she said. “Anyone can see you’re an elf.”
He shook out his cloak and hung it over his back, then secured it with the strings that dangled fr
om the collar.
“Hoods up?” he asked.
“Hoods up,” she replied.
They opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Giles led them down the steps toward the parlor where they had sat when they first arrived. They could smell food cooking and the odor was not unpleasant.
“Will you be joining your comrades for breakfast?” a voice rang out from behind them.
Alemar jumped at the unexpected words and Giles turned toward their source, his expression displeased.
“Easy, my man,” the innkeeper said, stepping out from the shadows with a platter of steaming food in his hands. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. What can I get for you?” he grinned a toothless grin at the big elf but his eyes didn’t smile at all.
“Whatever you’re bringing the others will do just fine,” Giles replied. He disliked this man, and preferred that he didn’t speak as if he was their friend.
“Let me leave this tray with your companions and I will fetch you something from the kitchen. It will only take a moment,” his voice compliant. His whole demeanor was disingenuous and it irritated Giles.
Stepping with care, he led them into the other room where Premoran and Teetoo were sitting around a small table, their heads practically touching.
“Ah, so you have decided to join us,” the wizard mocked them without raising his head. “I thought you were going to sleep the entire morning away. Come,” he gestured to the two empty chairs that stood beside them. “Sit with us.”
The innkeeper set the tray on the table and removed the pair of empty mugs and bowls that sat upon it. After placing them down on the cloth covered surface, he lifted the ornate teapot and poured out a steaming liquid for them both. He laid some rather finely wrought silver utensils beside the bowls, then bowed and backed away.
“I will return soon,” he motioned to Alemar and Giles, the grin frozen upon his face. His eyes flitted from one to the other though he never looked straight at either of them.
“Thank, you,” Alemar replied, as she sat between Premoran and Teetoo.
Giles’ eyes followed him until he was out of the room, and then he too joined the others. The grimy windows allowed little light to pass through, but it was enough for them to see by.
“Another gloomy day,” Alemar observed.
“At least it’s not raining,” Giles remarked, staring out into the gray.
“Those are not storm clouds,” Premoran commented without looking outside. “It’s smoke,” he said with no emotion. He pointed to the half melted candle in front of him and it sparked. A steady flame rose in its center.
“Smoke?” Alemar questioned.
“Yes. It chokes the skies. Smells like wood to me,” Premoran said, sniffing the air unconcerned.
Alemar glanced out of the windows and then focused her attention upon her friends. “It doesn’t bother you? What do you suppose is burning?” She found his behavior odd at the least. Burning trees?
“It could be anything. There is little left in these parts that’s worthy of worrying about,” he replied.
“Have you learned anything from the innkeeper?” she asked. It was obvious she wasn’t going to learn more about the fires now.
“Ah, the innkeeper,” he answered as if he’d forgotten all about him. “Yes, we have. But it was an even trade. He’s learned just as much from us. You need not conceal your heads any longer.” They both looked at him puzzled. Premoran reassured them and they dropped their hoods. “The man favors gold more than you would imagine. But he is as observant as we suspected.”
“So we’re found out?” Giles asked. “This can’t be good.”
“Have no fear. We will be gone from here soon enough,” Premoran replied as if it didn’t matter.
“He won’t betray us to our enemy?” Alemar asked. She at least was disturbed by the news. Premoran had gone to all that trouble to stop the messenger birds, and now his entire attitude had shifted.
“Of course he will, Princess, if the opportunity arises,” Premoran replied. He spoke to her like a child. “But rest assured, we have learned what we needed to already.”
“What exactly would that be?” Giles asked.
Premoran looked into the elf s eyes. “Others of your kind were here, right before us,” he said, his tone serious for the first time since they’d entered the room.
“Elves, you mean?” Alemar asked.
Premoran nodded. “They departed only days ago.”
“Did he describe them to you?” she questioned, wondering who it could be in this part of the land.
“Yes. He gave me all the details. They came from the south, from the water.”
“Sea elves!” Giles said, surprised. He thought the water was too rough to cross these days. So did Alemar.
“Yes. Two females and one male. One of the females appeared to be the guardian of the other two,” Teetoo explained.
“That’s the custom there. The most ruthless of the protectors are women,” Alemar replied. “Where did they go when they left here?” she asked. Kinsmen. She wondered what could have brought them to the mainland.
“He didn’t know for certain,” Premoran said in a soft voice. “What he did tell us is that they were not exactly in a position to make that decision themselves.”
“What do you mean? They were not alone?” Giles asked.
“Not only that. They were captives, shackled to one another at the ankles. Those who held them were vagabonds or thieves, he was unsure. Coarse and crude, he said, so unlike himself. They needed directions to Peltaran, and they were in a rush, a great rush.”
“And he obliged them?” Giles asked, his anger mounting. He knew the innkeeper’s allegiance wasn’t to the elves, but he was offended nonetheless.
“Naturally. They paid him for the information of course,” Teetoo said. “What would you expect of him, Giles?”
The big elf shrugged and grumbled under his breath. He would have strangled the innkeeper then and there if he could have.
“What else did he tell you?” Alemar asked. It was clear to her by the wizard’s tone of voice there was more to learn of his conversation. Who could be holding a protector captive? They either succeeded in their job or died trying.
“We have come to know one another far too well,” Premoran sighed. “I can’t keep secrets from you any longer, can I?” he lamented. He fingered his beard, twirling the long hair between his thumb and pointer.
“Well?” both Alemar and Giles asked at the same time.
“They were followed soon after their departure from here. Another group arrived on their heels and they roughed the innkeeper up a bit, which accounts for why he was forthcoming with this information to us,” Teetoo said. “He seemed revolted when he spoke of them. They showed him little respect.”
“Hunters from Sedahar,” Premoran added. “Vile, evil men. They asked him specifically about the elves. It seems they were dispatched in order to locate just such a party,” he said, though somewhat circumspect.
“Did he provide them with what they wanted to know?” Giles asked.
“Of course he did!” the wizard replied. “This man is no hero. He was lucky they allowed him to remain alive, despite the fact that he stated the truth.
“There is more to tell, is there not?” Alemar questioned.
“Perhaps,” Premoran said, pausing for a brief moment, looking at the ceiling. The cracks ran from end to end. “It may be that the ones who departed from here were not the ones the hunters were seeking.”
“You mean there are still more elves wandering around in this forsaken territory?” Giles asked. As soon he uttered the words he realized the meaning of the wizard’s comment, and he looked at Alemar with a sheepish grin.
“Yes, Giles. It must be us,” she said, catching his eye with her own.
“Indeed, it must be you,” Premoran agreed. “Though they set off after the others, thinking they were on the right path. I suspect they will be sorely disappointed.”
“
I hope we haven’t been the cause of anything terrible for them,” she said. “They were already prisoners. What chance will they have to escape Caeltin’s hunters if they’re captives? They’ll find them.”
“You cannot be responsible for what you have no control over, my dear,” the wizard said. “Besides, the situation they were in was not of your making.”
“How many hunters were there?” Giles asked. It troubled him also that they would be set upon while unarmed and easily overtaken.
“Seven.”
“The innkeeper sent them only in the direction in which the others had walked, with a description that wasn’t entirely accurate,” Premoran smiled. “He was quite angry at the way they treated him. He allowed them to hear what they wanted to hear. He’s cunning and apt at deception.”
“But, they are hunters,” Teetoo interjected, cancelling whatever hopeful sentiments Premoran had generated. “They searched the inn and the rooms where they stayed. They will be able to track them without difficulty.”
“Should we try to find them and warn them?” Alemar asked. “How can we abandon them knowing what we do?” They were elves. And even if they weren’t, they were in danger.
“It’s too late for that, Princess. We couldn’t catch up to them now if we tried. Too much time has passed. We must trust that they will be able to take care of themselves,” Teetoo replied.
“We cannot remain here any longer. It’s clear we are not safe. If my brother does not care about me, he most certainly cares about the two of you,” Premoran said. He spoke softly but his concern was pronounced. He wasn’t being casual any longer. They mistook his mood before too.
The Revenge of the Elves Page 18
