The Brotherhood (The Eirensgarth Chronicles Book 1)

by Philip Smith

  “You are fortunate the princess has a bleeding heart,” the elf hissed. “Otherwise you’d be dripping wet again, and not with water.”

  “Enough, Din,” Duelmaster said. “I think he gets the point.”

  “Oh, what a mess you got us into, Horrace,” one of the band cried miserably.

  “You’re lucky we caught you when we did,” the dryad continued. “Broadside thought he heard you call out for help, so we rushed down.”

  “We will let no man or beast do her any harm. She is our sister. And now we must decide what to do with you,” Broadside finished. There was an uneasy silence as the dwarf picked up his hand axe and advanced. “Well, no time like the present!”

  “We swear we’ll never set our eyes on yeh again!” one of the trolls pleaded. Broadside glanced at Dinendale. The elf surveyed the other members with a silent question.

  “Din, they’ve seen our faces,” Robert growled. “They could sneak back here and murder us in our sleep. And what’s to keep them from running back to an outpost? Then we’ll have Sharadhens coming at us from every direction. You want to risk that?”

  “We won’t! Honest!” another Bogatroll sobbed. “We was gett’n away from t’east, we was! They was killin’ our kind by our swamps! ’At’s why we was a’runnin’!”

  “And do you want to trust them after what they just tried to do?” Robert hissed, scowling at Dinendale. The elf looked at Paige, but she was unsure. Robert had a point, but could they simply execute these creatures like cattle?

  After another long pause, Dinendale rose, walked behind the troll chieftain, Horrace, and drew his dirk. A few of the Bogatrolls actually began to cry. Dinendale kicked Horrace to the ground and set his boot against his thin, muddy green neck. The troll winced under the elf’s cold stare, and he closed his eyes, whimpering. Paige bit her lip and covered her own eyes as she saw Dinendale plunge the dagger down. She could hear the sound of slicing sinew.

  But when she opened her eyes, the troll was sitting up on his bony backside. Horrace felt his freed wrists and looked up at Dinendale, wary of the large dagger.

  “Go,” he spat, “or I’ll have this dwarf finish what his axe was meant to do.”

  The trolls scrambled up as their bonds were loosed. Without another word, they bolted into the safety of the woods, the pitter-patter of their feet fading into the direction from which the Brotherhood come.

  “I still don’t trust letting them go, Din,” Robert muttered. “Now we’ll have to stay up and keep watch.”

  “We need to be doing more of that anyways. These are dangerous forests. I doubt a couple cowardly Bogatrolls are the only thing lurking in these mountains that will cause us grief.”

  “We should have just—” Robert started, but Dinendale interrupted him.

  “If it means that much to you, I’ll take a double shift tonight,” he said calmly. Robert grunted but apparently had lost interest in arguing any further. Satisfied, Dinendale walked over to Paige and stood before her as she finished buckling on her armour, Klaíohm now securely back in her hair once again and her hunting knife now dried off and back in her moccasin. Thankfully, the ancient piece of leather was once more securely bound around her waist, and she was safe. He gazed down into her blue eyes.

  “I think this belongs to you,” he whispered, as he took her hand and closed it over her necklace. She smiled up at him, fighting to hold back the tears in her eyes, remembering this necklace as her last bit of home.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  “Some things can’t be replaced,” he said with a slight smile. “I’m glad you are alright.”

  “Well, if that’s over, I think I’m going to go wash up,” Jesnake said, laying his bow and quiver down but keeping his belt of throwing knives close to his chest. Twostaves elected to go with him to take turns looking out in case the Bogatrolls decided to circle back. The rest of them set up camp and got a fire going while Paige plopped down on her bedroll.

  She smiled as she watched Broadside and Robert argue about a log and whether it was too punky to burn. Dinendale and Duelmaster went to work skinning a few rabbits they had shot earlier that morning, skewering them on spits to roast for supper. She felt a swelling of gratitude in her chest for each of these friends. They considered her one of their own, though she’d only known them a week’s time. She felt confident that no matter what obstacle they would face, they would face it together. It wasn’t enough to fill the hole she felt in her heart, but having the beginnings of a new family eased some of the empty feeling she had.

  At a lull in Robert’s and Broadside’s argument, Dinendale said, “Broadside, why don’t you go take advantage of that creek?”

  “No, no; you go on. I’ll, umm… stay here and work on sharpening! Yes, that’s it! I’ll do some work on the spare swords!”

  Dinendale pasted a smile on his face and walked over to the dwarf, placing a hand on his mail-clad shoulder. “Now, Broadside, it would be unfair to not let the finder of the stream partake of its… refreshing qualities,” Dinendale said, teeth clenched.

  “No, you go on… take a second bath! Won’t bother me in the slightest, I promise!” He forced a laugh as Jesnake and Robert quietly edged to either side of him.

  “No, no, I insist! It’s only right and fair,” Dinendale continued, a slight edge in his voice.

  “Oh, leave it, Dinendale,” Broadside snapped. “What are you going to do? Wash me yourself?”

  Dinendale smirked, leaning in so close that he almost touched the dwarf. “Broadside,” he said softly, “I want you to remember something. I want you to remember that you said it… not I...” Suddenly the dark elf, Robert, and Jesnake all grabbed at the pudgy dwarf and hauled him high into the air.

  “Put me down, you FIENDS!” Broadside screamed; anyone within a mile would have been reminded of a tornado with a bad sneeze. The trio dragged the floundering dwarf down the newly-worn path that lead to the stream. Shrieking and kicking the whole way, the dwarf bucked like a trapped fish while the others chortled all the way to the water’s edge.

  “All right, you lard-laden sack of fat,” Robert snorted, “have a nice swim with the trout!” With that, they flung the hollering Broadside into the stream. The effect was similar to that of a stone catapulted into a still lake—the water flew high into the air with the sheer mass of the fellow displacing it from its proper place. Paige laughed until she felt tears in her eyes. Duelmaster was leaning against a tree, convulsing with gulping, gasping laughter as Broadside thrashed and sputtered as if an army of evil dwarf-eating merfolk were out to get him.

  “Should we… go in… and get him?” Twostaves gasped through his loud, obnoxious heaves of ravenous chuckling. Robert crossed to stand by Paige, nearly choking as he hooted and hollered. He produced a bar of soap from his robe and tossed it into the water. Within moments, Broadside looked like he was drowning in the froth of a giant mug of ale.

  “He might have a slight case of hydrophobia.” Duelmaster laughed.

  “Understatement of the year,” Paige giggled. “When was the last time—”

  “Not since the ‘Log Over Nubly Pond’ incident, I’m sure!” Duelmaster heaved, smacking his chest as he coughed out his now raspy giggles.

  “Y’see,” Robert said with a smirk, “the fool never goes near water unless he absolutely has to. I’d wager good money he hasn’t actually washed in two years.”

  ◆◆◆

  Camp was rather quiet after the bath. Broadside sat on his bedroll, a little damp and cross beyond reckoning, wrapped head-to-toe in Dinendale’s thick woolen blanket. His chainmail hung from a tree limb, and his boots were steaming away by the fire. Outside of the occasional snort, he simply sat there, glaring at everyone from under his bushy black eyebrows in utter dwarven contempt.

  Paige stretched out on her bedding as she gazed at the leafy canopy above her and took a bite of the chewy rabbit the boys had portioned out with some hardtack. Robert wasn’t a bad cook. The meal, however, made Pai
ge long for the culinary genius of her Papa. His skill in preparing wild game had been unsurpassed in Kapernaum. Anytime she’d shot a duck or quail, he’d roast it over a hickory fire with fragrant spices bought from the merchants housed in the spice tents that had frequented the Market. She smiled sadly at the memory of his mouth-watering fried catfish, the best to be had in the depths of the Wild.

  “Well, I’m in dire need of some sword practice!” Duelmaster said as he stood, strapping his two rapiers to his back. The dryad moseyed to the center of the clearing and stood there as if expecting a challenger to pop out of the soil. After a second, Twostaves stood, his two signature staffs in hand. The dryad grinned and drew his swords.

  “All right, let’s see if we’ve still got it,” the lowland giant leisurely replied. After bowing low to one another, the two began to circle, each looking for a strike.

  The giant attacked first with a wide swing of one staff. Duelmaster retreated with nimble steps, parrying with a twirl of his rapier. Twostaves swung the second staff with enough force to crack a boulder in half. Paige winced in anticipation of the head-ringing blow she was sure Duelmaster would receive, but at the last second the dryad ducked, rising with a barrage of quick and fierce blows. Right and left, up and down the quick tree nymph struck. Although he bellowed with laughter, Twostaves barely kept up to block the rapid swings. The dryad twisted into a leap, landing with one boot on top of each of the staffs, balancing between them. Quick as a falcon diving for prey, he brought a rapier to the giant’s thick neck.

  “All right!” Twostaves panted. “I surrender!”

  He dropped his staves, throwing his hands up in the air, which caused Duelmaster to topple backwards on his now unsecure stilts, landing on his posterior in the dirt with a heavy “OOF.”

  The boys erupted into laughter as Duelmaster stood, rubbing his smarting backside with the hilt of his rapier.

  “Well, I’d say you still have something, that’s for sure!” Duelmaster said with a signature grin.

  “Got ya!” the giant bellowed, picking up his staves out of the dust. As he leaned over, the dryad whipped his sword back up and put it at the giant’s throat once more.

  “And that something is a complete lack of situational awareness!” the dryad teased, removing his blade with a flourish. As everyone clapped and laughed, Broadside remained huddled in his blanket, muttering something about the giant’s clumsy size and how big people would always fall harder in the end. Dinendale stood, still applauding the two. The dryad grinned slyly at him.

  “Care for a ‘bout with the foils, Faoris?” Duelmaster enquired. Dinendale chuckled and shook his head.

  “I fight with only one blade and ye with two? That hardly seems fair.”

  “Only because you know I can beat you!”

  “Oh, I meant unfair for you.” The dark elf laughed.

  “Ah, bravely lying in the face of danger, I see! Then permit me to let one drop at my side, thus,” Duelmaster replied, dramatically spearing one of his elegant swords into the dirt.

  “For me?” Dinendale said, stepping closer with a lopsided smile. “You’d need a third arm for another toad-sticker, eh?”

  Like lightning, the elf drew his bastard blade, whipping it downward with the momentum generated from his superb wristwork. Duelmaster immediately pulled his second rapier from the ground and crossed the two weapons above his head, catching the heavier blade. The two spun and parried, jumped and ducked. Despite the dryad’s advantage in his twin blades, able to simultaneously block with one blade and stab with the other, the elf remained more confident in his footing. Paige was sure one of them would be killed at the pace they were swapping blows. Nevertheless, she cheered with the other boys who urged the two warriors onward.

  In a brilliant maneuver, Duelmaster stepped into Dinendale’s vigorous overhead swing, catching the hilt of the elf’s sword at the last moment. Twisting his own pommel between Dinendale’s hands, the dryad wrested the heavy blade out of the dark elf’s grasp. Instead of surrendering to the dryad, though, the elf ducked the next blows. As Duelmaster advanced, Dinendale swept the dryad’s feet from under him with a low kick. Duelmaster stumbled, desperately trying to regain his footing. The elf took his chance to grasp Duelmaster’s wrist, twisting it so that he dropped one blade into the dust. Before Duelmaster had time to react, Dinendale swung around and held him in a headlock from behind. The dryad squirmed and kicked, so the elf simply threw himself onto his back and held tight, wrapping his boots around Duelmaster’s abdomen.

  “Give?” Dinendale gasped. Duelmaster smiled, despite his predicament.

  “I suppose!” the dryad choked out. Dinendale released him, laughing. They both rose, shook hands and retrieved their weapons, dusting themselves off as they laughed and clapped each other on the back. The lot cheered at the duo, except for Robert, who handed coins to Jesnake. The Western Elf quietly smirked in satisfaction as he pocketed the winnings.

  “So, does the great Dinendale fight like that against all that crosses his path?” Paige teased. “Tossing about in the dirt like a common school boy?”

  The group’s laughter faded as Dinendale turned to look at her, an intrigued mirth dancing in his brown eyes. This was something Paige had never seen in him, so she rose and advanced to the middle of the clearing. The others stood in silence, awaiting his reaction.

  “Against men, yes,” he replied with a slight smile. Paige took another step, arms folded.

  “And not against women?” she asked.

  “Well, no! They’re women,” the elf retorted, as if it was as simple as that. Paige felt her temper flare up and she clenched her fist. The nerve. She was not just some simple creature that would sit around like Matildra and her flock of followers. She wasn’t sitting and hiding, waiting for someone to ride in and save the day. She had been prepared to march to Aschin regardless of whether or not this elf came along.

  “So we’re dainty? Fragile? Not up to your standards?”

  The elf seemed to think this humorous, and stepped toward her.

  “What would you do if I said yes?” he asked, smirking. Paige narrowed her eyes and the group gaped in disbelief, giddy with anticipation.

  “Brother, when you step in it, you go all the way up to the belt,” Robert said with a shake of his head. Dinendale looked at Paige’s indignant face.

  “Well, what would you do?” he repeated, cocking a dark eyebrow at her. Instead of giving a reply, Paige punched him in the chest as hard as she could. He winced, winded and surprised. There was a chorus of “Ooh!” from the spectators’ gallery.

  “You want to take all that back, or shall I prove I’m no damsel?” she asked through now gritted teeth.

  Dinendale inclined his head. “After you, m’lady,” he replied, drawing his sword again. Paige refused the boys’ offers of weaponry, instead whirling around and marching to the edge of the woods. When she returned, she carried a large piece of well-seasoned oak, about twice as thick as her thumb, that had been lying beside a fallen tree. She snapped the twigs off the branch and broke it down to size over her knee. She smacked her stick threateningly against the clay earth as the two met at the center of the clearing.

  “I want a solid entertaining fight!” Robert shouted. “None of that ‘clean fight’ rubbish, you hear?”

  Dinendale began to bow to Paige in a mocking chivalric gesture, but the princess didn’t feel like playing anymore. She swung her weapon, striking him a resounding blow against the side of his lowered head. He reeled and fell amid the shocked cries of the company. He sputtered, gasping in astonishment and pain. Paige brushed a stray hair out of her eye and pounded her staff on the hard-packed earth.

  “Come on, sword-master,” she taunted. “Duelmaster couldn’t have worn you out that fast!”

  She spoke too soon, as Dinendale leapt up to his feet and lunged at her. He slipped his right heel behind her ankle and leaned forward abruptly, causing Paige to trip over his leg and hit the dirt. She coughed as she hit the f
orest floor.

  “Are you okay?” the elf was in the process of asking, a hint of genuine concern in his brown eyes.

  “Build a bridge and get over it!” Paige snapped, rolling to the left and sweeping the elf’s leg out from under him. He hit the ground as Paige rolled to her feet.

  Dinendale stood, shaking his head, but Paige didn’t give him the time to regain his footing before thrusting her thick stick into his gullet, knocking the wind out of him once more. When she followed up with a blow to his back, he was down again.

  “Get up, Dinendale!” Robert mocked. “Don’t you realize a damsel is beating you!”

  The elf staggered to his feet, managing to block Paige’s next blow. She spun out of the way of his attempted swing, whacking his hand as it passed before throwing all her strength into one well-aimed shot at his shin. He shouted in frustration, but as he reached down to rub the pain out of his leg, the princess reared back and let fly a forceful kick that caught him right in the fork of the legs. She turned smartly as Dinendale hit the dirt with a thud, gasping for air as if it had been ripped out of his body.