Two hours later, there was a similar incident when they stopped by the side of the road for a rest. They met by some travelers heading in the opposite direction, a group made up of a farmer and three sons sharing two horses by riding double. At first approach, the travelers reacted with some apprehension, but this changed when they saw Nevin lying in the wagon. They quickly galloped off with a mocking plea for rescue from the “troll.”
As the troupe finished a meal of bread and sweet preserves, they mutually agreed that taking the Public Road was posing some problems they would rather avoid. Faldon knew of an alternate northwesterly route that would take them through more hilly and wooded country. It would be more difficult for the horses, but Faldon thought they could handle it. They all agreed to take the detour.
The change in itinerary turned out to benefit Nevin as the route was far less rutted, plus they often had to slow down to account for patches of woods and shallow creeks. The less bumpy ride allowed for some conversation among the comrades. About an hour before dusk, they decided to stop near a small brook that provided clean water and a pleasant setting for a night’s camp.
Nevin appreciated the quiet and peacefulness of the campsite because it gave him some private time to adjust to all that had happened. His life as a Lecturer at Hempstead College seemed far away in both time and place, almost as if it was another person’s life. Bartram’s rebukes had also made him aware of his intellectual chauvinism, so he wanted to keep an open mind about the scientific plausibility of things that were actually happening. Besides, it would be interesting to see how useful his scientific knowledge would be in a place alleged to have spellcasting and no technology.
Nevin also thought a lot about the deliverance spell he had experienced. It was fascinating how it resembled a physics experiment that could be formulated like an equation. He wondered what other spells there were and whether they suggested similar properties. When he had a chance, he wanted to learn more about spellcasting from Anson. For now, he still tried to believe there was a viable explanation for what appeared to be magic, whether it was science as he knew it or not.
Faldon made a ring out of large rocks and started a small campfire from some dry, downed wood that Orris had gathered. Anson prepared a meal of bread, carrots, peanuts and strips of jerked beef. Faldon and Orris eagerly ate the jerky, which Nevin also found tasty. Nevin kept eyeing Anson’s uneaten share of the jerky. Finally, he leaned over and coyly asked, “Say, Anson...you going to eat your share of that meat?”
“I don’t eat flesh, Sir Nevin.” With a straight face betrayed by a slight smile, he added, “But you may have these extra pieces, since I assume you wish to maintain your large size.”
Nevin huffed at the jest but eagerly snapped up the remaining pieces of meat, savoring the taste. It was all delicious. By the time they finished eating, it was quite dark with only a slim crescent of a waning moon.
Faldon left the campsite to look after the horses. Orris had fallen asleep for the night, worn out from the combined travail of traveling and recovering from his injury. Anson sat on his bedroll, resting his back against a tree. Nevin sat down next to him and used this opportunity to question him about spellcasting.
Anson was hesitant at first to answer Nevin’s questions because he was trained not to divulge the secrets of spellwork. However, Nevin was obviously not a common person, so he allowed the conversation and even taught him the words for the somnolence spell.
Nevin easily memorized the words to the new spell and mulled over them. “Do you think it would be all right if I tried out this spell on Faldon?”
Since it was not a dangerous spell, Anson assented with a word of warning. “If you wish to try it, Sir Nevin, you must contain the force of your mind. This spell does not require much to be effective, so you have to be careful you do not focus too much of your mind’s energy.”
Nevin was gleeful to experiment with a new spell. He agreed to take it easy, which he assumed meant something like a lessened intensity of focused concentration, sort of like solving an easy quadratic equation. He cleared his mind, looked over at Faldon who was currying one of the horses, and uttered the words to the spell. Nothing happened. Nevin repeated the spell two more times, even accentuating the recommended hand gestures, but Faldon kept currying the horses. Frustrated at his lack of success, Nevin grew annoyed while Anson found the situation more and more amusing. Anson tried to contain himself but finally burst out laughing so hard that his sides hurt.
Completely puzzled, Nevin asked his mage friend, “What’s so funny? Did I get the words wrong?”
“No, not really. You missed Faldon and put both horses asleep on their feet. We will need a switch to get them awake.”
Nevin was chagrined, but he was not going to give up. He turned his attention to Faldon and tried the spell again. This time, he accidentally changed one of the words and the last thing he remembered before awakening in the morning was another peal of laughter from Anson. In the morning, he would be doubly chagrined when he learned that he had put himself to sleep. He would later rationalize the incident as something called “self-hypnosis.”
Anson’s sides still hurt as he covered up the sleeping sage with a blanket. He stoked the campfire and added the largest pieces of firewood, carefully placing them to bank the coals so they would have hot embers in the morning. Before the mage would retire for the night, he would take a little stroll around the area.
After tending the fire, Anson casually went a short distance and started to walk a circle around the camp. After completing half the circumference, he heard a rustling noise. He stopped in his tracks, listening for a further clue to the source of the noise. Another rustle suggested someone had taken a step or two on dry leaves. Anson froze in position and quickly canted a spell of indifference. After what seemed like several minutes, he sensed someone approach very close by. Anson remained perfectly still until a creature much larger than himself, as tall as Nevin and more massive, walked directly up to him. Anson shut his eyes in fear as the creature brushed by him without paying notice. The creature stopped and looked around as if it was confused, then moved on. In its trail, the creature left a strong musky odor. Anson knew there were creatures in the land he had never seen, some who might be large and potentially dangerous like a troll. This one, though, did not seem aggressive or bent on harm. If they were trespassing on this creature’s territory, it had a right to check them out.
After several more minutes, Anson opened his eyes and quietly returned to the campsite. He built up the fire to provide more light and potential discouragement to any more nocturnal visitors. He took guard duty for half the night, then woke Faldon to replace him. Anson asked him to keep the fire burning brightly and wake Orris in two hours to stand watch for the balance of the night. He saw no reason to tell anyone about the night visitor.
Chapter 14
Zael
Three days of travel passed. They met a few people on the woodland paths, but all kept their distance and there were no incidents. Each night, however, Anson thought he detected a presence that kept a safe distance from their camp. It might be a rustle of leaves when the wind was calm, or the faint snap of a twig that gave away a solitary presence. Occasionally there was a faint musky odor, now familiar, that did not betray fear or aggression. Similar to the creature he encountered the first night, it deliberately tried to remain unseen and posed no threat—so far. A few times Anson left the camp to seek out this observer, but without success.
On the morning of the fourth day, Anson was the first to awaken. The others were soundly sleeping off the rigors of upland travel, including Faldon, who had predictably nodded off soon after taking his turn at guard duty. After rebuilding the campfire and brewing an herbal drink, Anson stirred his companions and gathered them together. He had decided to tell them about the night visitor.
* * *
Faldon nearly fell down when he heard the story, more from fright than chagrin over his dereliction of guard duty.
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br /> “It was a damnable troll, it was!” said Orris. After a moment’s reflection, he added, “But I can’t understand why the horses didn’t kick up a fuss when they got wind of its smell. We’re lucky to all be alive, including the horses.”
“A troll?” asked Nevin. “Just what does a troll look like?”
“It depends on its age,” Orris responded. “The biggest ones are taller than you and stout as an oak. They live in caves and wander about, making mischief of all sorts.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“They don’t like humans much at all, except for blood sport, and, some say, meals,” offered Faldon with obvious anxiety.
“I have heard that said about them,” Anson chimed in, as he passed around their morning meal. “If you are caught, either you provide them food to their fill or you become the filling. Let’s be sure to carry enough food with us.” Nevin could not tell whether Anson was kidding.
Orris sounded serious enough. “It is said a troll won’t kill you quick because it likes to squeeze and bounce you about, so it can enjoy your caterwauling. We will have to be on our guard from now on. Strong as they are, a troll will still die by a sword and that is what they will get if they try to take us on.” Orris unsheathed his sword and examined it, frowning over some nicks in the edge. He took out a stone from a small bag of personal articles to restore the blade’s sharpness.
Nevin thought he caught Orris and Anson exchanging mischievous looks, but he asked the obvious question, “Have you ever actually seen a troll, Anson? Have you, Orris?” Both men waited before shaking their heads, then they broke out in laughter at their mutual gullibility. Except Faldon.
Nevin’s willingness to believe this talk about trolls marked some changes in his way of thinking, but he had not completely abandoned his scientific chauvinism, as Bartram had called it. His sore joints made him feel pretty sure he was neither hallucinating nor dreaming this last three days of wagon travel. He accepted as a fact that he was present in a land both unknown and unlike anywhere he thought existed. After extensive discussions with Anson, the notion of spellcasting was also becoming more acceptable. He even came up with some explanations for these magical occurrences. The indifference spell, for example, could work if the spellcaster reduces or ceases giving behavioral and verbal cues and becomes a background figure in the visual field of others. That was a simple enough explanation, but some of the other spells were more of a challenge. Especially Bartram’s demonstration back in Nevin’s apartment. And the deliverance via ley lines was potentially tenable, although transmutation along those lines was a hard trick to figure out.
Anson motioned to Nevin and the others for their attention. “Let’s keep our minds about our business. I have an idea for our route today.” Anson sat down between Nevin and Orris while Faldon remained standing, keeping a wary eye for uninvited guests. Large ones.
The mage continued, “I think we should stay off any roads and keep to lesser used paths or even make our own in the right direction. I have travelled this area before, but not in a long time. A mage known as Worad used to reside some distance northeast of here. If we find Worad’s home, he will provide us whatever comfort he can and safety for a night. This route will take us along the edge of a deeper forest that local people call Elvenwood. I do not believe it is as sinister a place as some think, though I have not travelled into it. I think this is a safe route and we would benefit from a respite with Worad. Are we agreed to this plan?”
The other men readily agreed, then quickly completed their morning necessities, doused the fire and started off under Anson’s direction.
* * *
The terrain changed as the predominant type of tree growth went from conifers to mixed hardwoods. It made for a rough ride as the wagon meandered over tree roots and bumped against low branches and tree boles in narrow spaces. Nevin was glad the wheels were fairly wide and the cargo box had at least a minimal suspension, or the wagon would not have stayed together. It was also fortunate that the weather was pleasant. By Nevin’s calculation, the climatic conditions were comparable to mid-May in a temperate zone.
The density of tree growth steadily increased as the day wore on, until it became quite difficult to navigate the wagon in any semblance of a straight line. The men sometimes walked to lighten the load so the wagon would be easier to maneuver among the thick-trunked oak and maple trees. To make up for their slow pace, they decided to forgo any meals until they stopped for the night. Only once did they stop at all, so that Faldon could water the horses at a shallow brook. At that stop, and a half dozen other times while moving, Faldon reported seeing something large among the trees. The wagon driver was admittedly anxious from the talk about trolls, but no one else saw signs of any two-legged creatures, large or small. Faldon would not be calmed by their attempts to console him. Each man admitted he had never actually seen a troll, nor knew anyone who did; that offered no consolation to Faldon, who was convinced that no one encountering a troll would live to tell about it. The only way they could get Faldon to relax a little was for Orris to strap on his sword.
About two hours before sunset, they reached a knoll where Anson stopped to get his bearings. Using the wagon as a step, Anson climbed an oak tree to look to the north where Worad once resided. He shinned down and reported that he smelled a faint odor of wood burning but could not see any smoke. “It is unusual for a mage to light a hearth fire by day. They seek seclusion. Let us move more quickly.”
Anson took off by foot in the lead, followed by Nevin, Faldon driving the wagon, and Orris following up in the rear. It took less than hour to near their destination, though the wagon suffered considerable buffeting as it squeezed through a thick population of burr oaks. To Faldon’s relief, Anson finally held up his hand and ordered them to stop.
The mage waved for his comrades to come closer and be quiet. “Something is wrong. The smell of smoke is too strong for a hearth fire. Leave the wagon here and let us walk the remaining distance together.”
Orris drew his sword and Faldon a dagger as they walked on carefully. The smell of burning wood grew stronger. When they reached a little clearing, they saw the fire’s source: A large cottage was in ruins, burned to the ground sometime in recent days. They cautiously walked up to the charred remains of the structure.
Orris bent down on one knee to survey the ground, his training and instincts taking over. “There has been a struggle. And blood is spilled here and in a spot over there.” He continued to sort through signs that the others did not see, bits of debris in the form of broken twigs and torn blades of grass. “This is not the handiwork of our troll friend but of men,” he said. “These tracks show at least five, one of them likely the victim of treachery from the others. There are burnt remains of two bodies, one wearing soldier’s gear. Sorry to say, Anson, but the other probably was the man who lived here.”
Anson was saddened at this news, but not surprised. This was not the first time he came across an attack of a mage by a group of rogues. They looked around for any further sign of Worad or others, but came up with nothing. All but Faldon thought the attackers would not return, since their business was accomplished and there was nothing left to loot.
After returning to the wagon and finding it just as they left it, they prepared a camp for the night. All agreed it was wise to avoid a fire and rotate guard duty every three hours. Anson would be first, followed by Nevin, Orris and Faldon. Orris gave Faldon a stern warning to stay awake this time; the wagon driver flinched at the rebuke.
Nevin found a spot upwind on even ground. After the long day of hard travel, he went to sleep immediately without waiting to eat. When his turn for guard duty came, he nibbled on some bread and cheese that Anson set out for him. Nevin’s watch went quickly and he woke Faldon to replace him.
* * *
With the first light of dawn, Nevin blinked open his eyes and saw two figures standing over him, one to his right and the other to the left, both with swords pointed at his throat. A thir
d figure came into sight, stood over him and spoke in an unusual, high-pitched voice, “Do not move, large one, or you will be dead before your bung leaves the ground.” The figure looked away and quietly ordered, “Wake the others. If they threaten you, kill them.”
Nevin heard his friends being rousted followed by exclamations of surprise. A brief but noisy struggle ensued from one quarter. The figure standing over Nevin spoke again, this time directing a sharp command over to Orris, “Cease, Armsman! If you fight us, each of the others will lose his head where he lies!”
Orris quieted and Nevin was allowed to sit up. He saw the camp surrounded by a group of twenty or more men, somewhat taller than Anson but very slender. They were dressed in multi-hued clothing that blended so well with the forest backdrop that some were difficult to see unless they moved. Most brandished a sword that appeared to be made of wood. The band included both males and females; their faces were grim with the unmistakable look of veteran guerrillas. The one who shouted orders was dressed similarly but carried a long bow with a quiver of arrows with a short sword belted at the waist.
Nevin and his companions were crowded together and told to sit with their backs against a large oak tree, surrounded by several guards with drawn swords. Nevin wondered how easy it would be to overpower these fellows carrying wooden swords. The four men were told to sit on the ground and the order-giver introduced himself. “I am Zael, sovereign of this wood. You have entered our domain without invite or permission and most likely for a sinister purpose. Tell me quickly and directly who you are and why you sully elven soil.”
Anson explained their mission, without mentioning that he was a mage. Zael listened intently and asked several questions. Anson replied with what Nevin knew to be the truth, but the answers did not appear to ease the tension of the situation.
The Chronicles of Nevin Reasoner: The Complete Duology Page 11
