Once the blade was bared, she turned with tremendous speed and stood ready to fight. An enormous Troll stood not ten feet from her with his club in hand, drooling with anticipation. It hesitated just one second too long and Filaree was upon it. As quick as lightening, she used the sharp tip of her sword to stick the beast twice in the stomach, causing it to shriek in a guttural voice and jump back a pace or two.
“Leave us alone and I will not harm you further,” she said in a deep and serious voice.
The Troll was enraged at the hurt inflicted upon its fat belly, and it moved forward with an unexpected speed. But Filaree was ready, and she spun off to the left, turning and slicing the beast behind its right arm and eliciting another angry and hurt growl. The large animal saw Cameron lying on the ground and he chose to go after the easier prey, while still trying to avoid another stick from the one with the sword. But, once again she was too quick for it. Tapping the brute on the back with the flat of her sword, she caused it to turn momentarily as she maneuvered herself in front of it. Then she thrust her blade upward with both of her hands until it was directly under its chin. The beast was so tall that she was practically holding her sword vertically.
“Do not move another inch, or I will drive this blade home!” she said sternly.
The Troll roared in anger, but held its ground. Filaree saw the wooden club in its right hand and she knew that just one hit from it would smash her skull to pieces.
“Drop the weapon!” she said.
The Troll hesitated and Filaree pushed the sharp tip of the sword into the soft skin of the Troll’s neck.
“Drop it, I said. You won’t get another warning,” and this time, the big brute listened, letting go of its weapon heavily. Filaree used her boot to push it to the side.
Cameron was hardly moving all this time, and she was growing more and more concerned about his condition, wanting only to best this beast so that she could attend to him.
“We do not want any trouble here. We only wish to pass through. Leave us be and we will be on our way as soon as we remount.”
The Troll was surprised by this young woman’s temerity, and it could do nothing other than nod its big head slightly and carefully so as not to impale itself on the sword. Filaree retreated a pace, holding her blade in front of her now and aiming it at the soft belly of the beast.
“Back up, you!” she said, flicking the blade just a bit and causing the Troll to take a few cautious steps backward.
With her left hand, she reached and shook Cameron on the shoulder, while never taking her eyes from the intruder for an instant.
“Cameron! Wake up. You have to wake up,” she repeated. He opened his eyes but he could barely speak. “You must get up. We have to gather the horses and ride out of here. Can you do it?” she asked.
“I think so. I am just very tired,” he responded, and he sat up with difficulty. After shaking his head and attempting to clear it somewhat, he was able to get to his feet and feebly whistle for Trojan. The horse came to him immediately with Nico close behind. “I don’t know if I can get up in the saddle,” he admitted.
All the while, the big Troll was eyeing them and breathing heavily. Filaree was unsure if it wanted to run away or attack again.
“You must, Cameron,” she insisted.
She reached back, grabbed Trojan’s reins with her free hand and then signaled to the stallion to go down on its front knees. Cameron was able to drag himself onto the saddle, though he was positioned more astride the horse than seated, and Filaree let the reins loose.
“Move back now to that tree over there,” she ordered the Troll, as she pointed to a Perridon in the near distance. “And, don’t get any ideas. I’ll run you through with this blade as soon as I would anyone else who comes upon us unawares,” she said with meaning.
The Troll obeyed, not willing to test the nettle of this upstart maiden. Cameron was barely conscious, and she was terribly concerned that he was going to slip from the horse. She pulled her belt from around her waist and secured Cameron to the pommel of the saddle with it, looping it around and through his own belt and then pulling it taught. Finally, she leapt onto Nico’s back and reached for the reins hanging in front of Trojan.
“We are going to ride out of here now and I do not expect to see you follow us,” she warned it as she urged Nico forward. “I am as quick with a bow as I am with a blade,” she admonished.
Nico was prancing now, and Filaree had her advancing sideways as she moved out of the circle of trees to the clearing. Once beyond the bevy of trees, she picked up the pace a little, hoping to gain as much distance between her party and the Troll as she could without unseating Cameron. The beast walked to the edge of the shelter and silently watched them trot away. Then he raised his snout to the air and bellowed and the alarm echoed throughout the hills.
“Well,” Filaree began, “they will all know we are here now. Cameron? You better hold on if you can. We must make it to the lake as fast as possible,” she said, and she clicked Nico to a faster pace.
She could hear the hills resounding with the sounds of other Trolls thundering in response, and she hunched down on her mare’s haunches and urged her forward. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see in the distance what appeared to be a dark wall moving toward them at a very fast pace. Ahead, she thought she saw the reflection of the sun off of the water, and she wasted no time in steering directly for it.
The black mass was gaining on them, as Trojan was unable to travel too quickly with Cameron hanging over him, but Filaree did not lose hope. The water was getting closer now, and she knew that if they did not stumble and if Cameron remained secure on Trojan’s back, that they would make it. With only a hundred or so yards left to traverse, Filaree let caution to the wind and broke into a gallop, with Trojan following right behind.
The Trolls sensed they were about to lose the entire group, and ten of them crashed through the brush, raging across the hills in a frightening display of abandon. They were gaining on the horses, and Nico’s ears twitched nervously. Trojan kept up with them the entire way, but he seemed to be falling back a little bit now. Filaree slowed her pace a fraction and Trojan rode up to her. She grabbed hold of Cameron’s tunic, and together the two horses and the two travelers approached the bank of lake Everclear at a full gallop.
Into the water they crashed, creating a huge splash as they entered, and they immediately began to swim briskly away from the shore. The Trolls came only to the embankment, and there they began to beat their clubs against the ground, and jump up and down and trumpet with rage in their guttural voices, making a commotion that could be heard for miles around. But, no matter how much they wanted to capture the humans, they would not dare to venture into the water.
Filaree thrust her head into the cool liquid of the lake and let it wash away the sweat and remaining fear.
We are safe and Pardatha is just across the water now, she thought and sighed with relief.
Clenching Trojan’s reins and making certain that Cameron’s head remained above the water, she led the exhausted horses toward the distant shore.
Chapter Thirty
Elion mounted the spotted pony that had always been his choice when he had an errand to run or a task to complete, and he smiled to himself at the coincidence. Fate was playing with the pieces of his life once more, for out of all the ponies in the stables, his father had chosen this one for this particular journey, his favorite. He was the one meant to bear this message, and all of the signs reinforced his belief in that regard. The fabric wove of its own will, he mused.
The scroll with the dispatch for Baladar was safely tucked away in the saddlebags as his father promised earlier, and all of the provisions that he would need were packed carefully and stowed in the satchels attached to the saddle. He bid a mental farewell to his home and his parents, regretting the scanty amount of time he was able to spend in Seramour, but knowing that what he was doing was the only thing to do. The guards were atop their ponies an
d already prepared to depart. He led the way onto the large platform nearest to him and the all others followed behind. The captain beckoned to the sentries and moments later the platform began to descend.
Once it had reached the ground and they all disembarked, the lift rose quickly back up. Elion shivered briefly, knowing that what he was about to do could not be undone, and hoping at the same time that his parents would understand his actions.
“Captain, follow me,” he ordered. “I know the way to where I must enter the woods. I was there just a short while ago and the memory of my path is still fresh upon me,” he stated ominously.
The party of fifteen armed, Elfin fighters and one troubled Elfin Prince galloped off, out of the shelter of the woods and onto the hills which were now shrouded in darkness.
Elion wanted to travel with as much speed as possible for a number of reasons. He hoped to get as far away from Seramour as he could before his father discovered his ruse and sent someone after him, or even worse, came for him himself. He also hoped to escape the wolves this time, or at least he hoped to have the upper hand in the next confrontation with them. Unlike before, this group was well prepared to protect itself.
They charged down the hill and broke into a full gallop once they reached the flat terrain at the bottom. Elion led the way, dashing across the very spot where he was so recently rescued by Treestar. His sharp hearing picked up the cries of the wolves in the distance, but they instilled no fear in his heart this time. He thought only of reaching Baladar and Pardatha, and of imparting the news to him about the boy he stole right out from under his nose. The brigade made remarkably good time. They raised a thick cloud of dust as they flew across the plains, which obscured whatever remaining visibility the moon had previously provided.
By the time the tree line was in sight at the far edge of the plain, the angered wolves were nipping at the hocks of the ponies’ legs, attempting to cripple them and tumble the animals along with their riders. Captain Perian drew his long, slim blade out of its sheath. Holding it high in the air, he leaned halfway to the ground with his pony galloping at full speed, and while hanging from one stirrup he slashed at the oncoming wolf causing it to cry out in pain. It retreated yelping, with a huge gash across its snout. Another enraged member of the pack came upon him on the opposite side, and the accomplished rider swung himself over the pommel and repeated his amazing acrobatics, sending another beast scampering away with blood pouring from its neck. The other riders, though neither as gracefully nor as deadly as their captain, fended off attack after attack while inflicting crippling wounds on the maddened brutes until the remaining ones began to give up, tired and hurting from their numerous cuts and bruises. The bodies of their dead littered the plains.
The party entered the woods unharmed though fatigued from the fight. Once under the cover of the trees, Elion pulled up and let his pony rest.
“You are quite the rider, Perian. That was indeed an exhibition out there!” Elion said with sincerity.
“Thank you, my Prince. I have always found fighting to be best accomplished while astride my pony. He knows my body language, and he would never see me unseated,” he replied proudly.
“You made that perfectly clear this evening. I think that you could have kept the wolves at bay singlehandedly,” he said as he slid from his saddle to the soft, mossy ground. “You will have another opportunity to hone your skills on your return, for I must depart on my own now. Thank you, Perian. I am in your debt,” he said before turning to the others. “Each of you, I thank with all my heart. First speed and may the Gem of Eternity light your way home,” Elion said earnestly. “Please, tell my father that I will send news as soon as I am able. And Perian, tell him for me that I am grateful for the opportunity to carry his message to Baladar under the circumstances. He will understand my meaning,” he said seriously.
“Surely, Prince Elion, I will do as you wish. And First speed to you too. May the Gem of Eternity guide you on your journey. Farewell!” he said, saluting the Elf Lord.
The group of fifteen followed their leader to the wood’s edge, and with a final salute they broke through the trees one behind the other, and disappeared across the Plain of the Wolves. Elion watched as they faded into the darkness and he was not surprised that the beasts made no new effort to attack them. They had enough of Elfin warriors for one day. He smiled to himself and walked his pony deeper into the shelter of the forest.
Elion wanted to get to Pardatha as soon as he possibly could, and without the burden of his previous companion, he was able to travel quickly. He decided to follow the line of trees eastward and thus avoid anyone his father may dispatch to find him and bring him back to Seramour. He knew that it would take him dangerously close to the outskirts of Sedahar, but he believed that a single Elf on a small pony could easily avoid the eyes of the Dark One. Once he reached the ridge above the Valley of the Spirits, the barren and desolate river bed, he could remain in the shelter of the trees while traveling northeast to Pardatha.
His father, if he did send a search party after him, would not look for him near the Dark Lord’s domain, and he was determined not to be waylaid on his way toward making right what he felt he had done wrong. Jorda, his pony, was strong and healthy and could ride straight through the night. What took him three days to travel before would take him no more than one and one half days this time.
The young elf took a deep drink from his pouch and allowed the Lalas leaf mixture to circulate throughout his body. He then offered a diluted mixture of the same liquid to his pony, who lapped it up enthusiastically. It provided both travelers with the sustenance they required to complete the journey. Climbing atop Jorda, he directed the animal down the narrow pathway through the trees. Once the trail widened, Elion encouraged his pony to ride faster and he guided him carefully and avoided the low hanging branches. He made excellent speed, covering many miles in only a few hours.
The sky was brightening in the east, and Elion needed to dismount not only to relieve Jorda for at least a moment, but also to stretch his legs and refresh himself. The woods narrowed at this point, forming a funnel of dense trees and brush. To the west was the wide open area he sought, lower in altitude than the woods, and parched and desolate, not succoring to any traveler. The once raging river dried up hundreds of tiels ago and left this barren gully behind; a wasteland that lead directly to Sedahar.
Elion preferred the warmth and shelter of the forest to the exposure of the range, even though he knew that he could travel much faster in the open. Stealth was almost as important to him as speed, for if he was caught by any unfriendly aggressor then his efforts would all be for naught. Suddenly, his ears picked up a faint sound which he ignored at first, it was so slight. When it persisted and grew louder, Elion walked toward the source, westward. He let Jorda graze for the moment and he crept to the outer trees, making sure that he concealed his movements from whomever or whatever was out there. The sounds were increasing in volume as he neared the edge of the tree wall, and he hid behind a large bush wherefrom he could observe the range below. The sun was just over the eastern horizon, rising above the treetops, and the gorge was fully exposed.
To his utter shock and dismay, he saw what appeared to be a black swarm in the distance, coming closer to where he now was by the second. He could not believe his eyes as he continued to witness the horrifying picture unfold before him. An army, larger than any he had ever seen before, was massing and preparing to move up the valley toward Pardatha. He still could not make out the banners that fluttered in the morning breeze, but he knew in his heart that it was not a friendly force. Elion watched in awe with his sharp, Elfin eyes locked upon the advance guard. When he could finally see the flag clearly, he wretched in revulsion. Before him flew the colors of Caeltin D’Are Agenathea, a burning red sun on a black background!
Elion sat stunned, his eyes transfixed upon the moving mass, and he attempted to remain calm. He surveyed what he saw, making mental notes of the numbers and makeup o
f the invaders, until he could keep count no longer. He was about to sneak back to Jorda when his heart froze. Amidst the advancing army were beasts, the likes of which he could not have envisioned in his worst nightmare. They were huge and their skin shone green in the dawn light, lizard like and terrifying in appearance. Every few moments, one of these horrendous freaks of nature would raise its ugly head and belch flames into the slowly brightening sky.
Elion stood near the edge of the wooded enclosure, lost in a ghastly reverie. He had heard about the hell hounds of Sedahar and he remembered being told of the ugly, stone eating beasts that Colton cherished, but he never believed that they were real. He thought they were merely legends, designed to frighten young children like the tales about the ghosts in the valley of the dead. More frightening even than the beasts themselves were their riders, red cloaked men with long arms, gloved hands and eyes as dead as the city of Odelot. Even from this distance, from the safety of his hiding place, he felt their eyes boring holes deep into his very soul, and he felt vulnerable and exposed; naked before these beasts from the underworld.
The surrounding marchers kept their distance as best they could from this repulsive group, out of fear no doubt. He counted thirteen of them in all. The riders sat far back on the haunches of the beasts, and it soon became apparent as to why. After each belch of fire, a stream of steam shot up from behind the animals head, perhaps ten feet in the air, sizzling as it rose, and then dissipating after a few moments.
He attempted to count the numbers and study the enemy, but the advancing army was far too large for that. It seemed to be endless as it swarmed into the valley, blackening the ground with its presence. He made a mental note of what he could; Trolls, Orcs, Giants, those hell hounds and their dark, blood-red riders. Elion had seen enough and the urgency he felt before was magnified a thousand fold by his observations. He had to get to Lord Baladar now without another moment’s hesitation! The city must be warned, and his journey suddenly took on a new and vital significance.
The Twins Page 27
