Hawk looked at him with distain. “You did this?” Dal nodded.
“With Bellak. It was his idea. He said it would give everyone a laugh.”
“Bellak,” Hawk hissed, looking around, unable to see his quarry. “I might have known.” He passed the still shaking Sam to Tor, who carried her to the fire and left the ladies to tend to her. He looked down at Samson who, needing no further instructions, jumped down from the wagon and headed toward the woods to their left. Hawk took to the air, keeping pace with the wolf until he spotted his prey. Swooping down, he picked Bellak up and pinned him to the top of the nearest tree, holding him tightly by the throat. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live,’ he snarled.
Bellak was moving his arms in an intricate pattern and attempting to recite an incantation, but Hawk’s grip was so tight he was unable to speak. “Not so high and mighty now you cannot perform your magic are you,” Hawk continued. “All it takes is one little bite.” He moved his head close enough for Bellak to feel his breath on his neck, then pulled back. “On second thoughts, it would probably take too long to get the disgusting taste out of my mouth.” With that he released his hold, letting the old man fall to the ground, grinning with satisfaction as he heard the thud of him hitting the ground, followed by an agonizing scream.
Tor was the first to arrive, finding Bellak lying on the ground holding his leg. His tibia had neatly snapped in two and was poking through his flesh. Looking up and seeing nothing but empty sky, he asked what had happened, but the wizard was in too much pain to answer. Tor picked him up, disturbing his leg as little as possible, and carried him back to the camp, Samson trotting beside him. Sam had been given a sleeping potion and was just drifting off to sleep, leaving Ellen free to tend to Bellak’s wounds. Once he had drunk a potion to lessen the pain, Ellen had Patrick and Tor pull on his leg, allowing the bones, with a little assistance, to fall back into place. She then applied a poultice to the open wound and attached a splint made from a large stick that Dal had found for her, all the while singing gently.
“You will be fine in the morning,” she informed him when she had finished binding his leg with cloth. “If my magic has worked correctly there should not even be a scar.” Without so much as a ‘thank you’, Bellak laid his head on his rolled up cloak and was soon snoring.
It was not long before Hawk landed in the camp, on the other side of the fire. “What happened?” Tor asked suspiciously.
“No idea,” Hawk replied mildly. “I lost Samson in the dark.” Tor did not believe a word of it, but decided to let the matter drop until the morning, when he could hear Bellak’s version of events.
Tor volunteered to take the next watch and advised the others to get some sleep. Though thoroughly exhausted, Ellen said she would remain awake for a while longer in case either of her patients needed her, then placed a pan of water over the fire to boil. A short time later she approached Tor, who was sitting with his back to the fire, and gave him a cup of the coffee she had just made. She sat down on the ground beside him and stared out into the dark.
They sat in silence for a while, until Ellen quietly whispered, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For bringing him back to me unharmed.”
Tor did not ask who she meant; there was no need. He decided not to mention how Patrick had rushed into Tallon’s room and had nearly been decapitated; she already knew how reckless he was. Instead he placed his arm around her in a brotherly way. “You deserve better.”
“I know,” she replied, standing up and kissing him on the cheek before returning to the warmth of the fire and settling down for some sleep.
The next morning Bellak’s leg was fully healed, though it was a little stiff. He gruffly thanked Ellen for her hard work then walked away into the forest, calling Samson after him. The wolf remained where he was standing, watching the wizard’s departing back. When Bellak stopped and turned around, Samson deliberately looked him in the eye then turned away and walked over to Sam, nuzzling her neck until she woke up.
“Traitor,” Bellak muttered and continued into the trees. When he returned, Tor quizzed him about the events of the previous night, but he refused to talk about it, saying he must have hit his head when he fell as he had no memory of how he got hurt. Tor could tell he was lying, but did not pursue it.
During breakfast, Dal nervously approached Sam. “Please forgive me,” he begged. “I never meant to harm you in any way.”
Sam gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. I know it wasn’t your fault.”
Dal sat down beside her. “What happened? Why did you freak out so much?”
“It’s called claustrophobia. For some reason that I cannot explain I am terrified of enclosed spaces, so you can imagine how I felt being trapped inside a coffin.”
“I am so so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. There was no way you could have known.” Bellak, on the other hand, was a different matter. Had he known or did his cruel prank have more of an effect than he had intended?
Samson spent the entire day trotting by Sam’s side. The only time he left her unattended was when she went into the woods with the other ladies. That night, he jumped into the coffin and lay down, trying to reassure her that he would be there all night to protect her. Hawk also informed her that there was no danger of the lid being put on again; not if Bellak valued his life anyway.
Before retiring for the night, she turned to Tor. “Why does he hate me so much?” Tor did not need to ask who. Bellak had been avoiding everyone all day, even eating his meals apart from them. Earlier in the evening he had walked alone into the woods nearby and had not been seen since.
“He does not hate you. He just has not seen your value yet. He was the same with each member of the team, though maybe not to such an extent, until they did something to prove their worth. He will treat you very differently once you have helped us obtain the next clue.”
“He’s still an arsehole,” she muttered then went to join Samson in the coffin.
Dal was just getting himself comfortable for the night when Seth tapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lad, time for some more training. Grimmel thought he heard deer roaming about when he collected the firewood and I am going to see if I can find a trail. Wild animals can be used to find water if you can track them without disturbing them.” Tor nodded his approval and both young men headed out into the woods.
There was a track between the trees, just large enough for two horses to ride abreast, but Seth immediately left it. One reason for this was that he planned to start looking for signs of deer near a small lake that they had used earlier in the evening as a water supply. The other was that he was testing Dal’s ability to travel through the forest quietly. Only elves had the ability to move silently, but some of the human rangers and trackers came a close second and Seth had been trained by one of the best. Dal impressed him. While he was making a lot of noise compared to Seth, he was quiet enough that he could creep by most humans without being noticed. Deer would be another matter.
When they reached the water, Seth explained what he was looking for, sending Dal one way while he looked the other. They were at opposite sides of the lake when Seth noticed a stag approaching, half way between the two men. Dal had also noticed the visitor and had crouched down low, moving away from the shore to hide behind a bush.
The stag walked close to Dal, either not noticing him or ignoring him, and put his head into the water to drink. Realising he was holding his breath, Dal exhaled slowly, hoping it was not loud enough to disturb the animal. Seth stealthily made his way around the lake to join him, keeping his movements slow and quiet. “What a magnificent specimen,” he whispered. Dal slowly nodded his head, not taking his eyes off the stag.
When the animal had drunk its fill, it headed back into the forest. “We will see how long we can track him before he notices us,” Seth told Dal quietly before heading off in pursuit. They had not gone far into the depths of the for
est when they heard a loud ring of metal hitting metal, immediately followed by an animalistic scream. Throwing caution to the wind, both young men ran forward, not caring about the noise they created. The sight before them was sickening. The stag was caught in a mantrap, its hind left leg almost severed. It looked about wildly as they approached, the agony the poor beast was suffering evident in its eyes.
“Stay here,” Seth commanded. “I am going to find Ellen. She healed Bellak’s leg, maybe she can help here.”
As Seth ran off, Dal cautiously crept closer, making sure he made no sudden movements and was always within the stag’s field of vision. The animal was extremely nervous, but was in too much pain to do more than watch. When he was close enough to talk to the stag without shouting, yet not near enough for the fierce looking antlers to reach him, he sat down and crossed his legs. He then proceeded to talk to the stag as he would to a small child, keeping his voice soft and low, trying to keep the animal calm.
Time passed and Dal could visibly see the stag weakening. Desperation set in, as well as despair. He could not bear to see such a magnificent creature die so unjustly. Then he heard voices. Seth had easily found the camp and a number of volunteers had returned with him. Sam was the first to approach, introducing herself to the injured animal and explaining that her friends were there to help. The stag was in too much pain to show any surprise at being able to communicate with a human and meekly agreed to let Ellen approach. After a quick look at the injury she looked at Sam and shook her head.
“I will try, but I do not think I will be able to save his leg.” She turned to Tor and Ban. “I need you to open the trap and gently remove the leg. There is nothing I can do while it is still trapped.” While Ellen started to make a poultice, Sam sat close to the stag and gently lifted his head, placing it in her lap, while she continually whispered reassuringly and stroked his soft fur. Ban positioned his legs wide apart, on opposite sides of the trap and placed his hands on the two metal jaws. Tor took hold of the leg then nodded to Ban, who began to pull the jaws apart. It took all of his effort and as soon as there was enough space, Tor quickly pulled the leg free and Ban released his hold, allowing the trap to snap shut loudly, making the stag shudder.
Ellen closely inspected the wound and was stunned to find the bone still intact. Somehow the teeth of the trap had managed to remove most of the flesh while not crushing the bone inside. She washed the wound, applied the poultice and bandaged it up while singing her healing magic. By the time she had finished, the stag was unconscious, so Ban carried him back to their camp. Ellen had not fully recovered from healing Bellak so her efforts on the stag had exhausted her and she collapsed on the walk back to the camp. At Sam’s insistence, Tor carried the sleeping woman to the wagon, placed her in the coffin and gently laid a cloak over her. Sam was more than happy to spend the rest of the night on the ground if it meant Ellen getting a better night’s sleep.
Seth volunteered to take the next watch and Dal joined him. “Why did you do that?” he asked.
Seth was puzzled. “Do what?”
“Save the stag. Why did you not kill it?”
Seth thought for a while before answering. Dal was being trained to hunt and kill wild animals so he understood his confusion. “As a hunter, you have to decide when to kill and when not to. We hunt for survival, never for pleasure. If we had found the stag when we were in need of food, I would have put the poor beast out of its misery. I cannot bear to see animals suffer any more than you can. But as we had no need for meat, I did all I could to help it. Does that make sense?”
Dal nodded. “You are a good man Seth,” he said quietly. They silently kept watch together for the next two hours, both lost in their own thoughts, until they were relieved by Tor and Modo.
The next morning the stag allowed Ellen to remove the bandage. The wound was perfectly healed. The stag gingerly placed some weight on his injured leg, then took a few hesitant steps. Feeling no pain or discomfort, he called out to Sam, asking her to thank Ellen for him, then ran into the forest and out of sight.
When they had finished their morning ritual, the group continued travelling north until they reached a fork in the road and Tor called a halt. Signposts showed Petra was north-west and Linket north-east. “Which way do you suggest?” he called to Bellak.
“Linket is probably the quickest route, so long as we do not get held up at the border into Janton. I know that Allias never bothers to patrol his side and I have never heard of any Jantonian soldiers stopping travellers that far outside of the capital, so it should not be an issue.”
Upon hearing the mention of Janton, Patrick pushed his horse forward until he was close enough to talk to Tor without being overheard. “I need to talk to you,” he whispered. Indicating with his head that he should follow, Tor walked his horse a short distance from the rest of the party.
“I would rather avoid Janton if at all possible,” Patrick informed him, a little embarrassed. “Queen Helen suggested we get married a few years back and I turned her down. She did not take rejection too well. She threatened to remove parts of my anatomy that I would rather keep intact. She has probably calmed down by now, but I know she is still unmarried and I would prefer not to meet her again until she has a wedding band firmly on her finger.”
Tor laughed. “In that case, my friend, Petra it is.”
As Tor led the way, Ellen rode closer to Patrick. “What was that about?” she whispered.
“Nothing that concerns you.” For some reason, since his conversation with Ria, Patrick found himself slightly ill at ease whenever he was around Ellen, especially when certain topics came up in the conversation. His past love life was definitely one of those topics. “I would just rather not travel through Janton at the moment.”
Ellen smiled. “So what was her name?”
“What makes you think it has anything to do with a woman?”
“I know you.” When he refused to answer, she decided to let the matter drop, but stored it away in the back of her memory in case she could use the knowledge at a later date. She had noticed that he had been behaving strangely toward her ever since he had returned from Kinfen. He had started to ask her if she would mind cleaning and mending his clothes and was even saying ‘thank you’. She made a mental note to ask Ria about it next time they were alone together.
A few days later they arrived at the desert’s edge. Ahead of them they could see nothing but sand, stretching for more miles than Sam cared to imagine.
Tor looked at Bellak. “Are you sure the place we are looking for is in the middle of that?” he asked, doubtfully. Bellak just nodded.
Later that evening, after the sun had set, Tor voiced what everyone had been thinking. “Any suggestions as to how we cross?”
“If it helps,” River said in a quiet voice, “we do not all have to go. Only two of us; Sam and one other.” She looked at Sam, her face suggesting she was sorry to remind her of her task.
“Can Hawk fly her across?” Dal piped up.
Hawk shook his head. “Unfortunately not. The distance is too far. I will never be able to get to the centre and back again during the hours of darkness. We do not know for certain that there is anything out there or, if there is, whether I would be provided refuge from the sun if Bellak’s theory proves to be correct. The risk is too great. Having to carry someone makes it doubly impossible.” Bellak muttered under his breath but refrained from speaking any louder.
“Ban, Grimmel, have any of your people ever managed to cross?” Tor asked the tayman and the dwarf. Both shook their heads. “River, Oak?” Again the same response. “Patrick, you know more about history than anyone else here. Anything spring to mind?”
Patrick thought for a while, tugging on his collar. It was hot this close to the desert and sweat was trickling down his neck, irritating him. “There used to be a group of people called the shaten who lived in the Loden desert. They were a near-human species of nomads who spent their lives travelling from water hole to water hole,
rarely leaving the desert to venture into civilisation, but there has been no report of human contact for a very long time. It is widely believed that their race died out long before you were born. That is all I know. Sorry.”
“At least we know that there are water holes out there,” Seth commented.
“Were,” Patrick corrected him.
“If they are still there, could River find them?” The young water sprite nodded. “So load the wagon with food and water bottles and send out the two young ladies.”
Bellak liked Seth’s suggestion. River, Tor and Sam did not. “It cannot be done,” Tor explained. “It is next to impossible to get the wagon through the sand. On top of that, they will be exposed to the sun for too long. Sam and River may be able to sleep under the wagon and only travel at night, but the donkey will be dead within a day. We will have to think of something else.”
“I have an idea,” Sam said suddenly, surprising them all.
“Of course you do,” Bellak sneered. “Let me guess. You think I can use magic to transport us all across the desert while not knowing an accurate distance or what our destination looks like. You have no idea how magic works girl so keep your stupid theories to yourself.”
Sam shrugged. She was past being offended by the old wizard. “Suit yourself.” She sat down on a nearby rock. “I’ll just sit here and wait for you to come up with a solution shall I? I hope there is a good hotel around here; I don’t feel like spending the next few days sleeping on this patch of ground.”
Tor glared at Bellak. “Ignore him Sam. What is your idea?”
“I say we call for some help. Anyone fancy flying across?” While everyone looked at her, confused, she called out as loud as she could, “SALABINE.”
Chapter 19
The Guide Page 24
