“Then we need to go after them.” Natis decided.
“So much for rest.” Weslocke agreed.
“Where can we buy a pair of horses?” The mage inquired.
Weslocke moaned, “First a ship, and now horses. Why didn’t I just ask Eric to hang me instead?”
“May I suggest another way?” Creel asked.
“Only if it is faster.” Natis answered.
“It is,” Creel began, “there is a schooner that will be traveling up the Balii River tonight. The winds are right and the water is high after the storms of the past few days. Even traveling up stream, it will reach Cathaar before your friends do.”
“Why didn’t they take a ship?” Natis wanted to know.
“It was not offered to them.” Creel replied, “This is not a regularly scheduled passage, and the crew are not exactly what you would consider to be model citizens. But I trust them. For a fee they will take you there with no questions asked, if I put in a good word for you.”
Weslocke rubbed his stomach, “Oh gods, not another boat.”
Chapter Eleven
Landis sat in the Minotaur’s Tavern, in the village of Cathaar, nursing a mug of ale as he casually looked about the room. Trevor Kahn sat on the opposite side of the tavern, near the door. He had entered before Landis and scouted the area before the half-elf came inside. Jordan and Jaylen were each stationed outside, nearby the tavern. The Sword of Alexon had been carefully hidden in the woods outside of the village. Not knowing how to make contact with the kidnappers, Landis resorted to asking the serving girl if she had heard of another half-elf by the name of Trian. The girl claimed ignorance, but Landis watched as she quickly made her way back to the bar, where she spoke to the barkeep and pointed back to Landis’ table. The half-elf was certain that his request had set something in motion.
The next time the serving girl passed by, she dropped off a fresh mug of ale at Landis’ table, with a brief message, “A friend of yours has sent you this drink, and requests that you wait until he arrives.”
Landis nodded in gratitude. It appears that contact has been made, he thought.
Landis sipped on his new drink, waiting impatiently for someone to join him. The second mug sat empty for more than a half hour before Landis’ wait came to an end.
“Hello, friend.” A voice spoke in an accented Eastland tongue.
Landis looked up at the man who was wrapped in a brown cloak. His long black hair and facial features gave him away as Roolemian. Landis abandoned the standard common tongue spoken in the region. “Are you here to take me to Trian?”
The man pulled a chair out and took a seat at the table. “Patience Landis, Half-Elven. Do you have the negotiated price?”
Landis nodded, “I brought it, but I am not foolish enough to bring it in here with me. I want assurance that Princess Megan is alive, and arrangements for her freedom are in place.”
The stranger drummed his fingers on the table. “You are in no position to negotiate anything. My Lord ensures the safe passage for the young lady, as long as the price is paid.”
“How do you suggest we move forward?” Landis asked.
The stranger leaned closer, “There is a place north of town called Brylaan Stables. Be there at noon tomorrow, and bring the sword with you. The young woman you seek will be there. We will make the exchange, provide you with fresh horses, and send you on your way in peace.”
“That simple.” Landis scoffed.
The stranger slid his chair back and rose. “Think what you wish, but no one wants the young lady harmed. All we want is the sword. Do your part and you will be on your way home tomorrow afternoon.”
Before waiting for an answer, he walked away, leaving Landis sitting alone. The half-elf watched as Trevor Kahn stood and headed towards the exit. He reached the door just before the cloaked stranger did. Only after both of them left the tavern did Landis arise and proceed outside. He looked both ways as he exited, but did not see Trevor or the stranger. Seeing Jordan across the street, he motioned for the prince to meet him at their predetermined location. Both of them walked separately to the edge of the village. Landis approached a well and leaned against the stone wall surrounding it until Jordan joined him.
“We saw the man who left the inn after Trevor. Jaylen is trailing him now.” Jordan said.
“Good.” Landis replied.
Trevor Kahn approached out of the darkness. He was wearing a cloak that he had picked up somewhere to cover his identity. “What is the plan?”
Landis went over all that he was told by the messenger. “You need to go find the place tonight,” he instructed Trevor. “Jordan and I will stay in the village and we will go get the sword in the morning.”
Jordan was growing more anxious. “Why don’t we go there now and wait for them?”
“Because it is likely that we will be watched tonight.” Landis stated. “That is why Trevor and my father will not be with us.”
“How will Jaylen know where to go?” Jordan questioned.
Trevor chuckled, “Do not worry, that man from the tavern will lead him there, or to someone else who will. Jaylen will be in place. He has Landis’ bow. I almost pity the poor bastards who will be waiting for the two of you to arrive.”
“You better get going.” Landis told the Sword-Master of Alexon.
“Aye, I better.” Trevor concurred. He sniffed the air and looked skyward. “Rain is coming. I hope there will be a place to keep dry.”
Chapter Twelve
Landis and Jordan plodded through the mud filled street, as the drizzling rain fell upon them. Jordan carried a bundled sword in his arms as they approached their destination. No one watching could see that the true Sword of Alexon was hanging in the sheath at Landis’ side, concealed by his wet, green cloak.
“I hope they are not spotted.” Jordan whispered, as they neared the corral just outside of the city of Cathaar.
“No one will see my father unless he wants to be seen.” Landis insisted. “Trevor may be another story.”
“This feels like a trap.” Jordan muttered.
Landis agreed. He had not been comfortable with this plan since it had been explained to them the night before. Landis had no doubts that they were walking into a trap, but hoped that their own trickery would provide better odds of rescuing Princess Megan. The wrapping of a plain sword in a blanket was only to prevent someone from riding up and taking it prematurely. Perhaps they would get lucky and end up trading a normal sword for the princess, but Landis doubted that. It was his hope to offer it, and himself, while Megan was permitted to ride away with Jordan. It was not the best way to get the princess back, but it was the only option that they had at the moment.
Landis knew that Jaylen was somewhere nearby, with Landis’ white bow ready. Trevor Kahn was to be waiting within view of the corral, with his own horse. His job was to get Megan and Jordan out of town as quickly as possible. They had already established an escape route to the river, and had two small boats hidden in the brush. The idea was to cross the river and continue down the opposite side, until reaching a small village, where Eric’s contact had promised that they would find help. It would be difficult navigating a small row boat in this weather, especially with the waters high, but that would be safer than taking the road south with possible pursuit. Landis doubted that anyone would suspect that they would have had prior information of the river or the village.
It would be up to Landis and Jaylen to kill off as many of the kidnappers as possible, and hopefully retrieve the sword. If not, then Jaylen would attempt to track them down and finish the task on his own.
The sound of someone pounding a hammer in the forge could be heard over the rain. Landis looked across the way and saw a short, stocky blacksmith banging away at something on an anvil.
“Is that them?” Jordan asked, pointing off in the distance.
Landis looked up ahead. Six mounted riders waiting, three abreast on either side of what appeared to be a cloaked female s
itting atop a seventh horse. Landis observed a seventh man sitting upon a horse a short distance away from the others. Near him was a saddled horse that was tethered to the fence post. Landis recognized him as the man he had met in the tavern the night before.
“It is about time,” the man shouted, “I was beginning to think that you had changed your mind.”
“Let me see the princess!” Landis insisted.
The man motioned to his compatriots. One of them reached up and yanked the hood from the female’s head.
“Megan!” Jordan shouted upon seeing his daughter.
Landis grabbed Jordan’s arm with his right hand, “Easy.”
“Father!” Megan called.
“Let her go!” Landis yelled.
The man at the gate chuckled, “Really, without seeing the sword first? Do you believe that we Eastlanders are that stupid? Bring the sword to me.”
Landis and Jordan approached the gate.
“Unroll the sword.” He ordered.
Landis opened his cloak, causing the man to shift in his saddle. “Relax, I have it here.” Landis explained, as he slowly withdrew the Sword of Alexon.
The man’s eyes went wide. He turned to look at the others. Landis followed his gaze, looking at the faces of each man, doing his best to assess the opposition, before permitting his eyes to rest on Megan, the daughter that he had never seen before.
“Let the girl go before I give you the sword.” Landis reminded the kidnapper of their arrangement.
The man motioned with his hand, and Megan was permitted to trot her horse up to the gate.
“Your horse.” The man pointed to the rider-less animal tied to the fence post.
Jordan laid the spare sword—still wrapped in the blanket—against the fence before climbing atop the horse. Megan rode up along side him.
“Are you okay?” Jordan asked his daughter.
“I am fine,” she replied softly, “let’s get out of here.”
Jordan gave Landis a look of sincere concern and thankfulness, before leading Megan away.
“I’ll take the sword now.” The man said to Landis.
“Not until she is safely away.” Landis insisted. “I would not want someone to shoot the girl in the back with an arrow.” He declared, more loudly than necessary.
“You have my word.” The man said.
Landis handed the sword to the man sitting upon the horse. As the kidnapper reached down for it, the half-elf grabbed his arm and pulled him down from the saddle. At that same moment, Jordan cried out in alarm after an arrow struck Megan in the back. The princess toppled from the horse, but was miraculously back on her feet in an instant. Then a second arrow struck her between the breasts. She backed away, but did not fall.
The six riders spurred their horses into a charge. Landis kicked the downed rider in the face and spun about, readying the Sword of Alexon to face the attackers. He watched as one of the riders was felled by another arrow.
A battle cry erupted from the forge as Weslocke Blademender ran out into the opening, holding his battle axe high over his head. He hurled the blade, sending it flying end over end until it struck the rider closest to Landis, knocking the man off of his horse. Trevor Kahn appeared, galloping in on his horse from his place of hiding to join the fray.
Jordan stared at his injured daughter, unable to fathom how she was still on her feet after being struck by the arrows. Then he saw her eyes. Megan was seething with anger. She screamed in rage as she charged after Jordan, only to be stopped by a ball of fire that struck her; exploding in an instant and sending her tumbling to the ground.
“That is not your daughter!” Natis shouted.
Jordan was stunned to see both Natis and Weslocke, but after seeing what Megan had already survived, he did not have to be told twice to believe that this was not his daughter.
Landis stepped to the side of a charging horse just before being run down by it. He swung his sword, slashing the rider’s stomach open. Another rider dropped to the ground after an arrow pierced his neck.
“We have to get out of here!” Natis yelled, as he watched Megan struggle to her feet.
Landis grabbed one of the horses and flung himself into the saddle. He passed Weslocke—who had just retrieved his axe—and bent over to grab the dwarf. It was not easy, but he managed to swing the dwarf up onto the horse behind him.
Natis was on a black horse. Landis was not sure where the mage had appeared from, but he was happy to see him here. Natis held his hand outward and spoke a few words that none of the others could understand. When he finished, a string of bluish colored lights shot forth from his fingertips, striking the remaining horses and killing them.
“They cannot ride after us now.” He announced.
“What about Jaylen?” Jordan called out.
“He knows where to find us!” Landis yelled.
Trevor Kahn was already leading the way down the muddy street. Landis—with Weslocke behind him—rode in the rear, with Jordan and Natis ahead of him. He looked back at Megan. The girl’s features were changing; her skin was becoming scaly and her eyes black as night. She raised her arms as if attempting to cast a magical spell at them; then she stumbled forward as an arrow struck the back of her skull.
* * * * *
“How did you know that it wasn’t Megan?” Jordan asked, as he rowed.
Landis, Jordan, and Weslocke were all in one of the row boats that they had stashed along the riverbank the night before. Trevor, Natis and Jaylen were in the other. Jaylen had appeared out of the woods just as they began to cast off.
“A number of reasons, really,” Landis began, “when the man in charge looked at the sword, he turned back, as if he was seeking approval from someone. I could clearly see that all six of the other men were simply waiting on orders to act upon. Then I looked at Megan. She was grinning; not the ‘I’m about to be rescued’ kind of grin either. She then made a motion in something very similar to thieves cant to the man who appeared to be in charge. I somehow doubt that you and Petra ever taught Megan how thieves secretly communicate with hand gestures.”
“The other warning I had came from Weslocke.”
“Weslocke?” Jordan asked.
The dwarf was holding on to both sides of the row boat so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “I was sending Landis a message with the hammer I was using in the forge.”
Landis continued his explanation. “I heard an oddly familiar tapping pattern coming from the forge. When I saw the blacksmith, I knew at once that it had to be Weslocke.”
“I was counting on your elven eyes to see what the humans could not.” The dwarf added.
“I made out the code that Weslocke and I had used for the word trap many years ago. That had me suspicious at first. Seeing the Megan imposter’s reaction convinced me. When she fooled you, I knew that it had to be magic. So I signaled my father to kill the imposter.”
“How did you signal that?” Jordan asked.
“He used the words ‘shoot the girl in the back with an arrow!’” Jaylen yelled from the other boat. “I told Landis to signal any target that he wanted taken out by name in some manner. When he said ‘the girl’ instead of ‘Megan’ as part of the comment about shooting her with an arrow, I knew that he was giving me my first target.”
“Otherwise I would have never used the word ‘arrow’.” Landis added.
Jordan paused to wipe the rain off of his face. “How reliable is this information about Megan’s escape?”
“It comes from Eric’s operative.” Natis called from the next boat, “I believe that what happened back in Cathaar proves that they no longer have her.”
“Too bad that we did not get that agent’s message beforehand,” Landis commented, “we could have bypassed this event entirely.”
“How are we going to find her?” Jordan wondered out loud.
“We travel to Ducaine and begin our search there.” Landis decided.
Chapter Thirteen
Trian
opened the cloth bag containing his clear crystal orb. He removed the orb and sat it on the table. He used his mind to control the magical properties of the ancient communication device. As he did so, he rubbed the back of his head. The pain was still there. This was a new experience for him. Trian was not accustomed to feeling pain for anything more than a fleeting moment. Dragon Magic, he thought.
The crystal ball lit up. He saw the stern face of Captain McRawl, who was using the black orb that Trian had given him. Behind McRawl stood Alister Marlow. The tanned, bald, man had an expressionless look on his face. His dark eyes were glassy and distant. The Supreme Commander of the Lardashen Rebels looked nothing like the man who had heroically broken ranks with his distant cousin—the Emperor—to lead this rebellion. Instead, he appeared tired and worried.
“Did you find them?” Trian asked.
McRawl shook his head. “We did not. I had the men continue the search throughout the night after you departed. Most of them became hopelessly lost until sunrise.”
“Magic.” Trian spat. “Seebaul is still able to shield himself, even from me.”
“Did you get the sword?” Alister Marlow asked.
“I did not.” Trian replied.
Marlow cursed. “This is not good. We have lost the princess. The Westlanders have no reason to turn it over to us now. General Kadoola is traveling to Ducaine for the summit that you negotiated. Without the power of that sword, it will be difficult—if not impossible—to influence him into uniting with us to fight the Empire.”
Trian snapped at Marlow, “Do you not think I already know that, you fool? Need I remind you that if you kept your house in order, instead of drunkenly frolicking with wenches, the princess would still be under lock and key? I have already sent messages to that bitch queen of Alexon, putting the blame for her daughter’s kidnapping on the Empire. I cannot risk having word reach her that we are the ones responsible.”
Elf Lords: 02 - Last of the Elf Lords Page 8
