“How long ago did they pass the river?” Daegon asked as he reached the final rung of the ladder leading up to the high tree post. Their post was perfectly hidden amongst a clump of high fir trees. It was built beside a tree fastened to two other trees forming a triangle base. From a distance, the post was completely camouflaged.
“Not long,” the soldier on watch answered.
Daegon walked up to the edge of the post and saw the dust rise up like a brown puff of lingering fog.
“They are moving fast,” the soldier commented.
“Very fast. Too fast, in fact, something’s not right,” the commander agreed.
“Look closely just in front of the dust. You can see their nasty flat-back vedoes.”
Commander Daegon pointed to the carriage that was not being pulled by horses, but by four creatures the size of large dogs with flat backs upon which the carriage was carried. They had wings on their feet and were lightly touching the ground as the carriage moved at a great speed.
“Now look just ahead of that, and you will see a few scouts a few miles ahead of them?”
“No, not quite, look at the trees a few miles off of the road to the north and the south of them, more scouts.”
“I don’t see them.”
“You will. Just train your eyes. Elven scouts are the best at not being seen. They are smaller in frame than us and can hop from tree to tree quicker than a horse travelling on the road below them, but because of their speed they get careless and they can’t stay concealed for too long. Just watch the trees. Always watch the trees.”
They watched for a few more minutes before the soldier spotted a scout leaping from tree to tree, occasionally exposing his head out of one of the treetops and then disappearing again into the canopy. “There. I see him,” he said pointing. “Where do you think they are going?”
“Not sure. It is too small for a combat force of any kind, yet their numbers are too great for just a routine a patrol. One thing is for certain, that wherever they are headed, they are in a hurry to get there.”
“And they’re mainly in the wide-open space, not even attempting to travel off of the road,” the soldier added.
“Very true,” Daegon paused, “maybe they know about our force here and want to draw us out.”
Daegon spun around and charged down the ladder as fast as a lizard climbing down a rocky slope. He ran to the encampment where seven hundred soldiers camped and had been training for weeks, awaiting their orders to move out. He went to his command tent and moved open the flaps so hard that they slapped the side of the tent with a crack. “I want our best scout now!”
The watch officer sped out of the tent leaving Daegon alone with his highest-ranking officer. “What is wrong Daegon?” he asked as he stood up from behind his desk.
“The elves are on the move.”
“Coming for us?”
“No, I don’t think so. They are skirting around us; around the eastern side of the Dragon Cross Mountains.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s just it. Neither do I.”
“Do you think they know of our plans to attack them?”
“I don’t see how they possibly could, but I don’t want to assume that they don’t. They may be trying to draw us out.”
“Draw us out? Impossible! They cannot possibly know we are here, as we have been travelling so slowly and discreetly. We have been joining our forces only in small groups and only regrouped three times since we left two weeks ago.”
“It doesn’t matter. We must consider the possibility that they have indeed spotted us. These elves are cunning, and after all, this is their terrain, not ours.”
“I know, but we have worked so hard.”
“Don’t fear. We will succeed, no matter what the set back. If this even is a setback, it may present us with a perfect opportunity to strike.”
The two commanders looked over maps, and discussed their options while they waited for the scout to arrive. After a few minutes a man in full lightweight leather armor appeared. He carried his helm of green and black with a painted red horse on the side signifying that he was a leader in one of the tribe’s cavalry.
“Captain Voll reporting!” he shouted with a brisk salute. “I am honored to be in the presence of the high commander!”
He had such a strong and intimidating appearance, that even Daegon was taken aback by his confident demeanor. Voll had shoulder length dark hair and stubbly facial hair. Evidence of the lack of personal time or rest during the weeks of hard training they had suffered through at the makeshift encampment.
“Captain Voll, we have a mission for you,” Daegon said as he returned his salute. “A small group of elves is heading southeast at a brisk pace. They don’t seem to be aware of us, nor are they headed our way. They will be out of reach soon and I want you to follow them until they reach their destination. Reconnoiter their intentions and return. Stay at a safe distance and use caution, for they have scouts to their rear and flanks. Don’t worry about losing their trail as they are making no attempt to conceal their position.”
“Where are they now?”
“A few miles passed the Ronlorle River.”
“Understood, I will search them out and find you to report my findings.”
“No need. We will not be leaving until we know what they are doing. Simply return here to report.”
“Anything else?”
“That is all. Go, and return swiftly.”
Captain Voll saluted and left the tent.
Chapter 7
Naemyn pushed his patrol hard for five straight days, not caring if he was spotted by any pesky human patrols. He knew they were out here somewhere, as the humans were always active during the summer, but for some reason their attacks were limited this season. He feared that he might run into a patrol or more, but he had brought some of his best elven warriors for this mission. He did not choose from the king’s elite Pathfinders as promised, but he did hand pick his warriors for the mission.
Midnight of the fifth day out Naemyn decided to set up camp on a hillside at the edge of the forest just a few miles off the road. The clouds had been rolling in for most of the day and a foggy blanket shrouded the tops of the Dragon Cross Mountains. The elves needed some much overdue rest after rushing towards the human territories at a forced, quick pace. Naemyn felt confident that the rest of the journey would be uneventful, for the rest of the road between them and their destination was on mostly plain lands, and they had quickly skirted passed the human claimed territories, which meant that the threat of humans and even the dragons lay mostly to the rear of their position.
“Send the scouts to secure the perimeter,” Naemyn commanded to the highest-ranking officer.
“The hawks are already in flight,” the scout answered.
Naemyn winced at this response. Hawks were a crucial element for the success of the elven scouts. Scout trainees were trained with experienced Hook-feather Hawks so that training would be fast and efficient. As soon as their initial training period was over, the scouts would be assigned a hawk chick to train as their own. The chicks would grow to become theirs for life in order to form a bond between the pair so strong that they become inseparable.
The bond was often so strong that if the scout died, the hawk would be rendered useless, and would not be able to recover. The hawk would therefore be released into the wild. Conversely, if a hawk dies, the scout would be pulled out of commission for service until a new bird could be assigned, and retraining completed. The connection so strong the hawks could communicate all they saw to the elves.
Naemyn knew the importance of these hawks, and
he heavily depended upon their use, but he also had a great fear and hatred of them to the point that just mentioning them made him uneasy. Turning on his heels, he decided to take a short walk in the woods.
The hillside oaks and sporadic evergreens covered the low rolling hills under the evening overcast. The moon was high in the sky, but a few clouds were moving in, periodically blocking the moon, which created intermittent shadows on the ground. The smell of fresh dew was in the air as the evening temperature dropped. The oaks were beginning to shed their leaves so a thin layer lay scattered on the ground. Nothing seemed to be alive in these woods, which had Naemyn’s senses piqued, both in curiosity and caution. He reached a small stream with a wide rocky bed that showed watermarks on the banks from when the snow caps melted and ran off into the valley below. Naemyn knelt down and listened for any sounds, he still heard nothing but the sound of the stream splashing by. He began to think he should not be here by himself when he heard something.
A loud thrashing sound reached his ears as if a huge animal was tearing in between the trees snapping branches as it ran. Naemyn stood and listened intently. His sensitive ears picked up sounds that helped him determine that the sound was moving away from him. Feeling confident, he ran toward the sound. The other side of the stream was rocky and uphill, but Naemyn charged through the rocks, bounding from one to the other like a jackrabbit, and grabbing limbs and bushes to pull himself up the steeper portions of the hill.
The thrashing was louder when he heard a scream, followed by a deep guttural growl, almost like a roar. The scream was elven, but the roar he suspected might be a beast of some sort. Realizing that the beast might be a dragon, he froze and knelt down and waited so that he could determine what to do next.
There was a short thrashing, followed by silence. He waited many moments before his curiosity got the best of him. Standing up, he ran toward the last sound he heard.
After running a few hundred feet, he came upon a small clearing of only low-lying bushes and shrubs. Then he saw what he had heard. First, he only saw the backbone of a dragon that led to its head devouring something. Sneaking around to its side he saw that it was tearing into the carcass of a freshly killed horse. It ripped through its belly, tearing muscle and flesh into large bite-size chunks. It raised its head slightly, tossing its head back as it swallowed the large chunks after only a few, quick chomps.
It was swallowing its meal as if it had not eaten in years, but Naemyn knew that could not be the case. He knew that the dragons had been feasting on humans and their livestock ever since the humans had made their home near the Dragon Cross Mountains, and starvation was never a problem for the dragons.
Naemyn crouched down behind a clump of bushes and watched the beast eat. He wondered what happened to the elven scout, if he had been eaten first, or if he had gotten away. However, what he saw next answered his question.
A hawk flew straight down towards the dragon’s head and began dive bombing, hitting the dragon on the crown of its head. The hawk flew up, and back down again at the dragon many times before it began to recognize the hawk as a nuisance. The dragon snatched up the horse carcass by its breast and took flight at a speed that Naemyn found incredible. It stayed low to the ground and sped in between the trees and bushes like a snake weaving in and out of the bushes while keeping the horse carcass dangling from its mouth.
The sound of the dead horse hitting and snapping the top branches of the oak trees as it flew was almost too much for Naemyn to bear. Meanwhile, the hawk continued to pound the backside of the dragon’s head as they flew together. Eventually the dragon tired of this distraction and dropped the horse carcass to concentrate on this nuisance. The dragon flew in a circle searching for an angle to attack the small hawk, but the hawk continued to pester the dragon hitting it in the head and flying out of the snapping range of its massive jaws repeatedly. The dragon tilted one way, then the next, trying to get sight of the hawk, but the hawk was too small for the dragon to see clearly as it flew.
The dragon, in frustrated desperation, flapped its sleek wings and ascended straight up before stopping in mid flight, then floated almost weightlessly for a moment before turning downward. Spotting the hawk, he puffed his throat, arched his head, and spit a stream of fire at the hawk, incinerating the valiant hawk instantly.
Naemyn saw the hawk’s life extinguished, and beside all the fear of seeing the dragon, he could not help but to smile at the hawk’s demise.
He knew the dragon would be back for its meal, so he turned and ran back toward the camp. As predicted, the dragon did indeed return, but it saw Naemyn running down the hill, bounding in between the rocks heading back to the streambed. The dragon, now active and excited, was encouraged to play chase.
The dragon landed in the stream in front of Naemyn, who stopped suddenly upon jumping atop a rock, and stood on its hind legs before lowering its head level to his. Frozen, and not willing to move a single muscle, or even breath, he saw its yellow eyes as they glared deep into him. Oddly, the dragon appeared to be smiling, as though it were in a playful mood. Sensing this, Naemyn knew he had to get away, so he did exactly what the dragon wanted him to do, and ran.
Naemyn jumped from the rock he was standing on, but slipped and fell in between two boulders. The dragon jumped above him straddling the two rocks and stuck its snout just inches above his head. It exhaled a tuft of smoky breath that filled the crevice, causing him to cough. At the sound of his coughing, the dragon backed away and twisted its head in curiosity. Naemyn took this advantage to leave the spot, scurrying forward to exit the crevice, and ran down the rocky hillside before the dragon regained itself. Losing his footing, Naemyn slid on his butt the rest of the way down, landing feet first into the rocky streambed.
The dragon jumped, flapped its wings once, and again landed facing the frightened elf. This time Naemyn was flat on his back in the stream. Water began to roll over his legs and chest as the dragon made a temporary dam, and the water began to rise. Naemyn slowly lifted his head out of the water, propping himself on his elbows.
The dragon lifted a claw and tried to grab him, but Naemyn stood up and attempted to make a dive for the dry ground. With lightning speed, the dragon pinned him down before he could make it. He felt the padded palm of the dragon on his back, and was surprised that he felt little pain, only the weight pinning him down upon the rock bed of the stream.
Counting down the last moments of his life, Naemyn wondered how long the dragon would play with him before killing him. Water began running into his mouth and nose as he struggled to lift his head, and he contemplated drowning as a way of dying. A death far better than the torture he was about to endure with this dragon.
The dragon gave a long, low growl, it sounded almost like a purr. This beast truly was enjoying himself, Naemyn thought. He spat water, using what breath remained to push the water from his nose and mouth. Then the dragon roared so loud that the water vibrated violently, splashing over his body. Shockingly, the paw lifted. Sensing this as a possible chance to escape, he crawled away toward the rocky slope. Turning quickly to take a curious glance, he noticed that the dragon was in pain. It roared again and twisted, turning its body around.
That was when he understood what was happening, for the dragon’s back had a few dozen arrows lodged beneath its thick scales. Many arrows fell into the stream, but a few had found their target under the dragons slick but near impenetrable scales. Within the trees, a dozen elves relentlessly pelted the dragon with their arrows.
Not wanting to tolerate this annoyance any longer, the dragon jumped and lifted into flight, heading back to the Dragon Cross Mountains. As the dragon flew away, the elves rushed to Naemyn and helped him to his feet. “I’m fine. Let me go!” he snapped.
“You shouldn’t have wandered off alone,” one of the elves said, reprimanding him.
“I know. I was concerned for one of our scouts. The dragon got one of them.”
“We will know for sure when all of the scouts report.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I know it got at least one.”
“Well, regardless, we have to get you back to safety. The dragon may return.”
“It may. Let’s move on. Break camp, and move a few hours down the road and set up camp again,” Naemyn commanded, walking away and feeling confident in grabbing his authority and confidence back.
* * *
Voll saw a flash of light in the darkness and knew instantly that there was a dragon nearby. He had seen many dragon blazes in his lifetime to know one by sight and by smell, when he was so unfortunate to be that close to one. This one, he figured, by its brightness, was maybe five miles away. “So, now the elves get a little taste of dragon-fear,” he said to his horse patting it on its neck. “Let’s wait here and see if he finds elves as tasty as humans. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll like elven flesh better,” he said, smiling.
Chapter 8
Destroying the flowers made Traelyn reflect on how much she enjoyed gardening. It was flowers and plants such as these that she attended to at her home when her father was alive centuries ago. She found herself thinking of the elven prince as she pulled the plants and re-worked the soil, and it reminded her of the first time she spoke to him. She found him attractive, and was fascinated by the fact that he was an elf from a distant land.
It was later in the evening when he came out of the meeting with her father that she saw him again. She was standing atop one of the battlements watching the sun as it dipped behind the green-forested mountains, when Jaerick, the elven prince, walked up behind her. “Beautiful country,” he said.
Quarterstars Awakening Page 5
