Cave Of Forlorn

by R. C. Rutter

  Robald pointed to Eric’s big toe. “Since when does a rock have a big toe?” The two of them began laughing which relaxed everyone. “So what brings you here?” Robald asked.

  Eric lowered his voice. “I came to warn you. Lydia and the wolves are in town now, probably heading this way. I will cast some spells to try to confuse them but against wolves, I am not sure how effective they will be.”

  Robald told how Gweneviere had glimpsed eyes from the woods and he found wolf tracks. That is why they departed so quickly.

  “I don’t understand how Lydia could be helping the wolves” stated Robald. “I just don’t.”

  “There might be a wolf’s breath potion involved, or perhaps a poison. I would need to be near her and have a snake’s tongue with me to find out for sure. Not much chance of that happening. Of course, another way to break the spell is to have her die.” Eric caught the glare from Robald. “No, that will never do. If you kill wolves, make sure one is still alive to make the antidote.”

  Eric looked around at the group. “I would love to join you on your journey and perhaps in time I might. Right now, I have a demon to deal with so I bid all of you a safe journey. I do have something that might help.” Eric reached into his satchel. “Here, take these singing rocks. Place them around your camp. The rocks will buzz if anyone approaches from outside the camp.” With a puff of smoke, Eric was gone.

  “Alright, time to move” commanded Robald. This was getting to be routine and soon they were on their way.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  Moonlight lit the path as the wolves made their silent way through the forest. They were traveling in a single file with Lydia in the middle. She could certainly take care of herself. She had proven herself in many battles and no wolf would dare fight her alone. Attacking her as a pack might be enough to win but they would certainly not do that. Perhaps another time, but Lydia was in the middle so the wolves could protect her. Without her, they would fail in their journey which was not an option so they kept her safe and alive. The wolves normally kept away from people. On occasion, when they did encounter humans, wolves would attack to maintain their territory and reputation. Scared humans stayed away from wolves and that is how they preferred it. Any one of them would willingly attack and kill a human if given the chance. Not one of them would take that chance with her. They knew her history; they understood their journey and wanted the reward. In addition, there were only twelve of them. Not enough to attack and kill her, the wolves had decided. She was too fierce.

  The group traveled in complete silence. No other sounds were heard. It was as if all the animals around them sensed the danger and fell silent as they approached. The pads on their feet kept them from being heard and Lydia wore soft sandals. They were heading away from the town in the direction of the traveling group. The first wolf halted, lifting his nose in the air and sniffed. The pack waited patiently for several minutes. Turning his head left and right, he sniffed again and again. Finding nothing, he began walking in circles looking at the ground for footprints. He did not pay attention to the large rock on the side of the path. It was strange that he could not gather the scent.

  Lydia walked to the front of the pack. “Well, lost the tracking scent did you?” she said exasperated. I thought you were better than that.” The first wolf snarled at her, showing his fangs. Lydia put her hand on the hilt of her sword, daring the wolf to make a move. She stood there and glared at the wolf. Quest or no quest, she could kill all the wolves right now if she wanted to. She knew it and the wolves knew it. The wolf backed off. He could not risk her wrath. “Loser!” was all Lydia was willing to say. Lydia looked around from left to right, observing everything around them, and then started walking to the east. They pack did not move. She walked about twenty paces then turned back. “Well?” The pack began moving again towards her. Six wolves walked past her then the seventh stopped, waiting for her to follow the first group. Lydia was still looking back where they had just come from when she saw a puff of smoke next to the path. She was startled for a brief second but said nothing to the group. A small smile was on her face as she turned back to the wolves and began walking. She thought to herself, this could be interesting.

  * * *

  “Now, this is a lovely place for a rest” exclaimed Robald as they entered another clearing. Sniffing the air, he looked around. Nothing alarmed him so his gaze relaxed and he threw his pack down. “Rest time, everyone. Thorgon, take the first watch. Wake me in an hour.” Robald froze which caused everyone to immediately stop. He slowly reached for his bow. Snatching it, he shot off two arrows before anyone had time to react. Malcolm screamed as the arrows flew right past his face, turning it white. “Malcolm, get with it. Go fetch the meal. Rabbit and pheasant it is. Don’t cook my arrows. I might need them again.” He turned to Gweneviere “Wake me when the food is ready. Throw the bones and guts into a pile and save them” and with that he stretched out on the grass and promptly fell asleep.

  Seth gathered firewood while Malcolm retrieved the food. He walked over to Gweneviere and stood there looking at her. “Well?” was all Gweneviere could utter. Malcolm just stood there. “Oh give it to me. Sometimes I think you are totally worthless. You would starve without me for sure.”

  In a few minutes, the fire was hot and the smell of the meat caused their stomachs to growl loudly. Thorgon kept up his patrol of the forest edge. It would not do at all to let one’s guard down, not at all.

  Gweneviere called to Thorgon “Supper is ready.” She turned to Seth “Wake up the big guy, why don’t you?”

  Seth walked over to Robald and pushed his shoulder. He was promptly grabbed by the wrist and flung about twenty feet.

  Robald started to get up. “Sorry about that. Are you okay? Did it ever occur to you to just call my name? A lot safer to do that too.”

  Thorgon could wait no longer. He turned and started walking toward the fire but stopped suddenly, reached in his satchel and pulled out the rocks from Eric. Walking around the camp, he spread out the rocks. At least it would give them some warning.

  There was no conversation while everyone ate. They were too hungry to do anything else. In just a few minutes all the food was gone. Everyone stretched out to relax but Robald, who stood up, grabbed his sword, and headed to the forest edge.

  The rest was well appreciated and needed. It seemed like only five minutes had passed when Robald started waking everyone. “Time to go, quietly, NOW!” Seth started to question Robald. He just pointed to the rocks from Eric. They were not buzzing, they were glowing red. “I don’t know what that means” whispered Robald “but it can’t be good. Let’s go.”

  A few minutes later, the group left their campsite. Nothing was left behind except the crumpled grass and the pile of bones and guts. Malcolm had gathered the rocks without anyone asking which was remarkable. The rocks were still glowing red but they were very cold to the touch. Malcolm put the rocks in his bag. Robald looked at the edge of the forest, then at the sky. He whistled. It was a screeching sound like that of a hurt animal. Animals and birds began appearing, more and more of them. As they left the clearing, the hungry scavengers converged on the leftovers.

  “Robald, I am very impressed with you. That was a very generous thing to do” beamed Gweneviere. She thought she saw a soft side to him.

  “On the contrary, I did it for us. Their footprints will mask ours and the mixture of their scents should be enough to confuse anyone tracking us.” Robald winked at her. It would not be good for anyone to see his compassion. He did have a reputation to uphold.

  * * *

  It was early morning. The Freedom Fighters led by Captain Artemus were lined up in the town square. Well fed and rested, they stood tall. The mayor and his assistants approached the soldiers and were greeted with a salute by the captain. “Good morning, Mr. Mayor. The troops are ready for your inspection.”

  The mayor walked up and down the rows of soldiers, stopping randomly to ask a question or two. He a
lso thanked the soldiers for their service and protection. “Well, yes, yes, Captain Artemus. Fine looking Freedom Fighters you have here. I can speak for the entire town when I say we have complete confidence in you. Thank you for all that you do.” With that, the mayor abruptly turned around and quickly walked to his office, followed by his assistants.

  “Platoon, right face” came the command from the captain. “Forward march.” The Freedom Fighters were back on patrol. At the edge of town, Captain Artemus halted the patrol. “Stay alert. Our scouts have reported that several groups of travelers are all moving to the east. That is the direction we shall travel. Stay on your guard as we will be getting closer to the Royal Army. Some of you have been anxious to fight. You will probably get that chance very soon. Stay alert! Forward march.” The patrol took the road to the east.

  They had not traveled very long when they came upon a lone figure in the road. Wearing a hooded cloak, it was difficult to tell who it was. The soldiers slowed their pace, they remembered what happened the last time they met someone like this. Several put their hands on their swords, ready to fight. Captain Artemus halted the platoon.

  Captain Artemus proceeded to walk directly to the stranger. Too far away to hear, the soldiers could only observe the action. It was obvious that they were having a conversation as both figures nodded their heads. Then the captain took out a few coins from his pocket and gave them to the stranger. They both turned and walked towards the soldiers.

  “Men” said the commanding voice from Captain Artemus. “As you know, it is quite likely we will encounter wolves and possibly fight them. Who has experience fighting wolves?” When no one raised a hand, he continued “This is Shabb. He has agreed to help us. He says he has knowledge of the wolves and their methods. Pay attention closely.”

  Shabb removed his hood. He had a dark complexion, dark hair, brown eyes, and several scars on his throat. Tall and lanky, he did not look like a warrior. “It is best to avoid fighting a wolf.” He said as he looked at each and every one of them. “That is, if you can avoid it. If you have to fight, do it quickly. If you hesitate, several will gather around you. Once that happens, you will die. Avoid the fangs. If you are bitten, there is an antidote but it is hard to make. Best to wear your armor. The most effective way to kill a wolf is to cut his throat or slice his belly open. Any other wound would probably just piss the wolf off and make him meaner. Any questions?” Shabb waited by no hands were raised. “Well then, I bid you success.’ He turned to leave but was called by Captain Artemus. “Shabb, I don’t suppose you would consider joining us?”

  Shabb hesitated then spoke “I appreciate the offer but I have my own journey to make. Perhaps our paths will cross again.” With that said, Shabb silently vanished into the edge of the forest.

  “Strange” said Captain Artemus to no one in particular, “Strange indeed that he would show up just as we need help to fight the wolves. Makes me wonder what his agenda is. Anyone feel differently?” The captain looked at the fighters and waited. No response at all. He was going to have to come up with a plan to boost their morale.

  “Very well, then. Platoon. Attention! Forward March!” The soldiers resumed their shuffle, each one keeping an eye on the road ahead as well as the edge of the forest. They marched for about thirty minutes with no sign of trouble. The soldiers began to relax and started talking amongst themselves. They were approaching the Red River and would soon get wet as they crossed. It would knock some of the dust and dirt off so it was not such a bad thing.

  They rounded a curve in the road and saw the edge of the river. On the far shore was a solid black chariot. The horses were still hitched so the rider could not be far. No one had ever seen a real chariot before. Most people walked, rode a horse or a wagon.

  Captain Artemus called “Halt” as they had reached the riverbank. “Now then, who is first? The current looks strong but looks passable. Depth looks about three to six feet. Who shall be first?”

  “I will” replied the voice from the rear. Captain Artemus turned to see who the volunteer was, definitely not one of his soldiers. “Who are you?” he inquired.

  “If I were you, I would be more concerned about the driver of that chariot” was the reply. “In fact, if I were you, I should be running now, very quickly, in the direction you just came from.”

  The men were starting to whisper. A figure had emerged from the water near the chariot and was looking at them.

  “RUN, YOU FOOLS, RUN!” Eric yelled as he threw off his cloak and raised his staff. He twirled it and aimed it at the driver. A flame of light emerged from the staff and shot towards the driver. The driver yelled as he was thrown in the air and landed on the bank.

  The soldiers were still standing there. Eric glared at them. ‘Fools they are!’ he thought. He decided to ignore them. If they were not smart enough to run, maybe they deserved to die.

  The figure stood and yelled. Eric twirled his staff again but was not quick enough. A bolt of lightning struck Eric right in the chest and he fell to the ground. Several soldiers around him were also hit and were now laying motionless on the ground. Eric shook his head and stumbled to his feet. He quickly twirled his staff and fired. The figure was again knocked to the ground.

  The remaining soldiers were now running back down the road except for Captain Artemus who was hiding behind a rock. “What can I do to help? What is that?”

  “A demon” Eric said with a shortness of breath. “Likes to be called Michael, I would prefer to call him dead and I am trying my best.” Eric shot another bolt at the demon which flipped him through the air again.

  “Can I distract him? How do you kill a demon?” asked the captain.

  “I don’t know, I have never killed one before.” Another bolt was shot at them. It hit the captain’s shield and bounced off. The full force of it hit Eric. Captain Artemus could not move. He felt frozen. His left arm was on fire. Eric was on the ground writhing and moaning with his eyes closed. The demon had now crawled back to his chariot and climbed in. He grabbed the rope and was about to beckon the horses when he was attacked from behind by a dark figure. The captain could not quite make out what the unknown shape was. He could see the two of them struggling. Michael held onto the rope as the attacker bit his head and neck. He started to fall and pulled the rope as he did. The chariot moved into the water. The current was strong and the horses lost control. Michael and the attacker fell out of the chariot and were now struggling to stay afloat. The three of them were washed away in the swift current and disappeared from view.

  Captain Artemus remained still. Unable to move, he was powerless. He stood there for what seemed like hours but was actually just minutes. He could hear footsteps behind him but could not turn. The steps were getting louder and louder. “Please, end it quickly; give me a soldier’s death.”

  The captain heard several snickers from behind him. His remaining soldiers now walked around to the front of him and stared.

  “Morons, cowards, the lot of you” yelled the captain. “Tend to the old man here. See if he is wounded. Check your comrades; see if any are still alive.”

  Eric was given some water, owls’ root, and his face washed. He began to stir. “Help me up, please.” Eric was helped to his feet and looked around. The chariot and rider were gone. “What happened? Where did he go?”

  Captain Artemus replied “The demon was attacked from behind. They fell into the river and were carried away by the current. That is all I know.”

  “Who attacked him?” Eric demanded. “Did you see? Describe him to me. What did he look like?”

  “As best as I could tell, it was not a he. It appeared to be a large dog and”

  Eric interrupted “No, not a dog. Could it have been a wolf?” How many wolves did you see?”

  “One” said the captain.

  “One? Did you see any more? In the trees perhaps?” asked Eric.

  “Nope, just one. Attacked the demon from behind. It was so quick the demon did not know what to do.” />
  “One wolf” murmured Eric and he stroked his beard. “Unheard of. Wolves always attacked in packs and hated water. Strange behavior indeed.” Eric stroked his beard some more. “Unless of course, it was..” and his voice trailed off. “No, could not be. He would not be here, not now, and for what? Revenge?” Eric stared at the other riverbank for several minutes, then at the water. “Troubling times, indeed.”

  Eric looked at the captain. “Oh, sorry” and with that he raised his staff, twirled it, and struck the ground three times. The captain immediately relaxed and fell to the ground. His men rushed to help him and did the same for him. Water, owl’s root, and his face washed.

  Eric walked to the river’s edge and poked his staff into the water. A bridge made of water appeared and Eric quickly walked onto it. He turned to the rest “Come, make haste now. No time for regrets.” He hesitated and turned back “And sad to say, no time to bury the dead. We must move now.” Eric walked quickly over the bridge. Captain Artemus and the soldiers followed.