“Are we alright?” Patrick asked her, a little timidly.
“Of course we are,” she assured him.
“Good, because my shirt needs cleaning.” She threw the rock she had in her hand, narrowly missing his hip as he swerved to his right.
“Your aim is a little low today,” he teased.
“That depends on what I am aiming at.” Working out exactly where the rock would have made contact had he not moved, he swallowed and made a hasty retreat, though not before throwing the shirt at Ellen.
“Everything is business as usual between those two I see,” observed Seth quietly, removing the head from one of the rabbits.
“No thanks to Patrick,” Tor replied. “I love him like a brother, but there are times when I want to throttle him. I do not know what I would have done if Ellen had refused to stay with us because of him.”
Late that night, while everyone else was sleeping, Brin sat alone, staring into the distance. He had volunteered to stand guard during the darkest part of the night. Not only did he have the better night vision than most of the others, but he also enjoyed being alone with his thoughts, surrounded by darkness. It gave him chance to think about things that were troubling him without the risk of interruption. His thoughts drifted to Sam, as they had most nights since they had first met. She fascinated him, and had done from the very beginning, though he was not sure why. He had met girls who were a lot prettier or had better figures or sweeter voices or eyes you could find yourself falling into, but none of them had enthralled him the way Sam did. There was something about her that he found amazingly attractive, but, try as he might, he could not put his finger on exactly what it was.
He almost managed to convince himself it was nothing more than curiosity about her world; it was purely her strangeness that attracted him. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t true. He knew that she had not spent the night with Hawk, and that they were nothing more than friends, but the thought of him touching her made Brin’s blood boil. Elves were a peaceful race, but he knew he would not think twice about killing the vampire. Brin was worried, very worried.
He was still lost in thought when something landed beside him. He showed no sign of surprise, though he had not heard any indication that someone was approaching. “Hello Hawk,” he said, without turning around. It crossed his mind that he would now be dead if Hawk had desired it, but he banished the thought from his head. Vampires, well this one at least, were more honourable than that.
“Come with me.” It was more than a request, but not quite a command. He could be being led to his death, but Brin did not hesitate in jumping to his feet and following. He was heading toward the wagon. He did not question where they were going, or why. Hawk would explain in his own time.
“Wake Sam. I need her help. And yours.”
Brin jumped onto the back of the wagon. Sam lay peacefully sleeping in Hawk’s coffin, Samson asleep at her feet. He stretched out a hand and caressed her cheek. She stirred slightly, but showed no sign of waking. Resisting the urge to kiss her, he leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “Wake up.” No reaction. He put his hand forward to shake her, but was prevented from making contact when her arm suddenly raised, her hand grabbing hold of his arm.
“Planning on taking advantage of me while I was asleep?” she asked, all sign of sleep evaporating as she spoke.
“No, but thank you for giving me the idea. Hawk needs us.” She, too, did not question why. Instructing the wolf to stand guard in Brin’s absence, she held out her hand and Brin helped her out of the coffin. He did not release her as they jumped down, and she made no effort to shake him off. Hawk noticed, but said nothing. He looked at Brin.
“I will take Sam by air,” he stated. “I know you can keep up on foot.” Brin nodded. Hawk pointed in the direction he would be taking and Brin set off. Hawk swept Sam up in his arms and took to the air. He cradled her gently as he flew, looking down occasionally to make sure the elf was still with them.
He landed in a clearing in the middle of the wood. Seconds later, Brin arrived. In front of them was a huge black bear, pacing up and down in obvious distress. The new arrivals were ignored.
“I spotted her as I was flying in search of food,” Hawk said, keeping his voice low. “She is standing in front of a hunter’s pit. Her cub is at the bottom. I do not think it is injured, but it is too deep for it to get out. I have tried to get closer, but they both became even more agitated in my presence.” He turned to Sam. “I need you to talk to the mother. Explain that I am here to help and that I will not hurt her cub. Bears can sense what I am so she may take a lot of convincing.” He turned his attention to Brin. “Elves seem to have good relationships with animals. I want to drop you in the pit. Your job is to calm the cub down enough for me to fly in and rescue it.” They both nodded. They knew what they had to do and the risks involved, but their own safety was the last thing on their minds.
Taking a deep breath, Sam walked toward the mother bear. Bears are extremely dangerous. A mother bear trying to protect her cub is even more deadly. When she was within earshot, she started speaking. The bear looked at her in surprise. She walked a little closer, explaining who she was and why she was there. The bear stared at her. She spoke about Hawk, emphasising the good in him, making light of the almost irrelevance of him being a vampire. She was close enough to be attacked. Brin tensed. Sam continued talking, keeping her tone calm and slow. The bear raised her paw as if to strike, claws extended. Brin began to move forward, but Hawk held him back.
‘Wait,” he whispered.
Against his better judgement, Brin remained stationary, but alert. The bear’s paw did not descend. Sam continued speaking, pausing occasionally to listen to a reply. After a tense few minutes Sam returned.
“She has agreed to allow you to drop Brin down. I am to remain by her side, within striking distance. If the cub shows any sign of distress, she will attack.” She returned to the bear, watching as Hawk lifted Brin into the air and flew him toward the pit. He started to lower him, when Sam called out.
“Try not to upset the cub please. It’s my neck on the line, not yours.”
Brin winked at her. “Trust me.” Hawk lowered him down until he was close enough to the bottom to safely jump, then Hawk immediately ascended again. The mother bear watched closely, poised to attack Sam if she felt the situation warranted it. All three looked down into the pit, watching Brin’s progress.
The cub had moved to a far corner, watching the elf in terror. Brin remained calm, sitting down with his legs crossed, talking quietly to the frightened animal. He made no sudden movements and never changed the tone or pitch of his speech. Eventually the posture of the cub indicated that it was calming down and a few minutes later it cautiously approached Brin, sniffing him all over. Brin continued his monologue. From the top of the pit, Sam could not make out what he was saying, but the words were irrelevant; the cub could not understand anything he said. It did not take the cub long to finish its investigations, then, to everyone’s surprise, it climbed into Brin’s lap, making him grunt as he braced his body to take the weight. Hawk looked at the mother as Sam asked her a question. The bear replied and Sam gave Hawk the go ahead. He suspended himself above the pit and, with one last look at Sam, slowly descended. He made almost no sound as he landed. Brin heard, but did not react.
Without warning, the cub was grabbed from behind and lifted upward. The squeal it emitted was deafening in the pit. Its mother looked on anxiously, the claws on the paw nearest to Sam unsheathing. Hawk landed without incident and released the cub, which immediately ran to its mother. After a brief reunion, they wandered off into the wood. Just before disappearing from sight, the mother turned back and spoke to Sam.
“What did she say?” Hawk asked.
“That maybe not all vampires are vermin.”
“Vermin!” Hawk thought for a minute. “Actually, that is probably a very good way of describing us. Come on, time to get back.”
“Aren’t you forgett
ing something?” Sam asked, looking down into the pit.
“I thought we could leave him there for a while.” Sam could not tell if he was joking or not.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned. He shrugged, leapt into the air and disappeared, returning moments later with Brin in his grasp.
“Can you find your way back?” he asked. Brin nodded so Hawk rose into the air and was out of sight before Sam could protest.
“It looks like we are in for a long walk,” Brin said, grabbing her hand. All protests died in her mouth as he squeezed it gently. The walk back suddenly became very appealing. Neither spoke until they reached the edge of the camp.
“You did good tonight,” Brin said, lifting her onto the wagon.
“You too. You’re good with animals.”
“Some,” he replied, looking up to make sure Hawk was not returning. Sam, reading his mind, punched him on the shoulder, laughing. When she was comfortable inside the coffin once more and Samson had laid his head across her calves, Brin leant over, kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Goodnight.” Raising her hand, she covered the spot where his lips had touched, protecting it from the elements. She was still holding her cheek when she fell asleep.
The next day they crested the top of a small hill and they were, at last, out of the trees. Before them lay a vast stretch of grassy plains with nothing taller than a shrub to spoil the view.
“Oh wow,” Sam exclaimed. Brin rode up next to her.
“Breath-taking, is it not.”
“You can say that again. I was beginning to think that everywhere was full of trees.”
“And what would be wrong with that?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Nothing,” she said hastily. Trees were obviously very dear to an elf’s heart. “It is just good to be totally out in the open.” She breathed in deeply. “Just smell that air.”
Brin did as she requested, breathing in then exhaling slowly. “It is the trees behind you that you can smell.” He grinned at her. She hit him.
“Can I run?” Thresnine asked. It had been a long time since she had had the opportunity to canter across open fields and missed it greatly. Sam gave her permission and horse and rider galloped away. Thresnine had spotted a small stream in the distance and the need to jump it overwhelmed her.
“She must be a very competent rider,” Brin observed to Tor as he approached, “to take a jump at that speed. I trained in this area. You cannot see it from here, but the other side of that river banks steeply. Many riders fall.” He suddenly lowered his voice. “I lost a close friend when his horse fell, throwing him. He broke his neck.”
“Actually she had hardly ridden before joining us, and never without some sort of riding aid she called a saddle and bridle. She has probably never jumped a horse before.”
Brin cursed loudly and took off after her, his heart pounding and a sick feeling in his stomach. Tor called after him, but was ignored. Thresnine was quicker than he had expected and, seeing that he would be unable to catch up, he instructed his horse to halt. His heart was in his mouth as he watched Thresnine take off. The landing was good and Sam remained in place. The relief that washed through him was instantly replaced by fear as he watched them turn around for the jump back across. While the jump they had completed had been dangerous, the one back was doubly so. The landing area was exceptionally boggy and many horses had fallen, often breaking their legs.
An excited laugh filled the air as they took off for the second time. One of Thresnine’s hooves began to slip, causing Brin to inhale sharply. The horse quickly recovered and within minutes both horse and rider were approaching the elf, who was still visibly shaking.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, noticing how pale Brin’s face was.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that jump was?” he demanded. “Never, ever do that to me again.”
Sam looked at him, puzzled. “Thresnine warned me of what she was planning to do and assured me that she had done it many times before without unseating her rider.”
Brin choked on the reply. “You risk your life because a damn horse said it was safe.”
Sam placed her hand over his, but he pushed it away. “I’m okay. I was never in any danger,” she said soothingly. “I’m sorry if I worried you.” She put her hand over his once again. This time, he let it remain.
Tor rode up to them, closely followed by Ria. “I did try to tell you. The first time Sam rode Thresnine, the mare promised to take care of her. We all knew she would be fine. We would have stopped her if we had any doubt.”
“It was very sweet of you to try to protect her though,” Ria piped up, trying her hardest not to laugh.
“Ria, drop it.” Sam’s voice contained a warning undertone. Ria went quiet, though her smile did not fade. Her eyes fell on Sam’s hand, which was gripping Brin’s tightly, and winked at her before riding off, laughing loudly. Tor looked at Brin, gave an apologetic shrug, then galloped off after her.
As the group progressed through the seemingly endless plains, the atmosphere slowly changed from relaxed and carefree to slightly tense, a mixture of excitement and trepidation. They were approaching a large hill, almost like a small mountain. Their destination was about a third of the way around it, just hidden from view. The plan was to skirt the base rather than climb it. Distance-wise it was longer, but would be a lot quicker and easier on the horses.
Evening approached and Tor called a halt. For the first time since Sam had joined them, they made camp in the open. Though a spell would protect them from the elements, Sam felt strangely exposed. Brin and Oak looked slightly uncomfortable as well, having spent their lives almost entirely surrounded by trees. Sam looked longingly at the coffin. It would go a long way toward making her feel like she was in a bed, but somehow she felt a little selfish as the elf and the tree sprite would have no way of easing their discomfort. She therefore, reluctantly, opted to spend the night in the open.
Everyone went to sleep early that night. The open terrain had allowed them to travel much faster, but the additional speed was more tiring. Nobody complained when Sam volunteered to take first watch. Hawk had not yet arisen and she wanted to speak with him. He hunted each night, easily finding sources of blood, but she was a little concerned about the lack of wildlife in the plains. When Hawk finally awoke and she voiced her concerns, she heard a laugh from behind her. Brin, unable to fall asleep, was laying close by and had overheard what she had said. Between them, the vampire and the elf explained that the plains were teeming with life; you just had to know what signs to look for.
Brin took over watching the camp so Hawk could take Sam out and actually show her what they meant. The moon was nearly full and shone brightly in the clear night, enabling Sam to make out most of what she was being shown.
Hawk found a rabbit hole and explained the signs that had led him to it. Tracking backward he could follow where its occupant had gone on its nightly excursions. Sam could easily make out the hole and understood how it had been located, but it was too dark for her to see the tracks left by the rabbit. Hawk assured her Brin would show her in the morning, when it was light.
She was also taken down to the river. Herds of deer roamed the plains and evidence of their passing could be seen on the banks. A decent tracker could follow the trail to their current position. Although Sam could see where the river had been used as a watering hole, again it was too dark for her to see any more.
When her lesson was over, Hawk returned her to the camp and went hunting. Tor soon awoke and took over guard duty with Ban. Sam went to sleep lying close to Brin, who used all of his self-control to resist the urge to put his arm around her. It was a long time before he was claimed by sleep.
Next morning they headed out early. Most of them had slept well and, after an unusually large breakfast, were rearing to go. They were continually heading toward the hill, which seemed to increase in size as they approached. When they reached the base, they changed direction, following around to the eas
t. The day passed uneventfully, a slight breeze cooling them sufficiently to prevent travelling being unpleasant. As Hawk had promised, Brin showed Sam the animal tracks in the daylight. Once he had pointed them out, they became obvious, though she would never have spotted them without his help.
They set up camp in the middle of the afternoon when Tor announced they had reached their destination. The surrounding features resembled those describing the location of Duke Philliat’s burial chamber. Of course, there might be absolutely no connection between the Duke and the legendary Zeneth and they might be completely wasting their time, but it was all they had to go on. The worrying thing was that they needed to find a cave. If they had been beside a mountain, finding a cave would not have been a problem, but they were next to a large grass covered hill. Hawk said he would take a quick look around during the night, but he did not hold out much hope. The search would begin in earnest in the morning.
The cave entrance was found in a surprisingly short time. Brin, Tor, Patrick, Modo, Ban and Seth, with Dal in tow, headed out at first light, leaving the rest to prepare breakfast and tend to the horses. They returned, jubilant, while the bacon was still frying. Having gone in pairs in different directions, they covered a lot of ground in a short space of time. It had been Seth who had noticed the unevenness in the side of the hill as he passed. He had almost missed it. He sensed something out of place so he turned back for a second look. It was by pure luck that he was at the correct angle to be able to make out the indentation of a doorway. He called the others over to him and none of them could spot the irregularity as they approached, but once they stood beside him they could see it clearly.
“So we think we have found where the next clue is,” Tor announced once everyone had eaten their fill, “and we are certain that Ban and Grimmel fit the criteria of the short and the tall. Before we go any further, we need to decide who will be going through into the cave, once we get the door open.”
The Guide Page 38
