Light Of Loreandril (16 page)

“Of course. Why?” Nechan did not look at his brother, he just plucked at the grass about his feet.

“You seem on edge. You still don’t trust him, do you?”

Nechan did not respond.

“He knows so much about the woods. We could learn a lot from him, if you would just  trust him.”

 Nechan grunted.

“After all, we don’t know how long he is going to be with us. We should make the most of it!”

“I guess you’re right. I’m just worried about what we’re carrying. He keeps doing things that make me suspicious.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing really. Sometimes he says things in a strange way. And, he keeps staring at me!”

Cradon pulled a face.

“I know, you think I am being
paranoid
.” Checking Tavor was not on his way back, Nechan pulled out the silver orb hanging around his neck.

His brother watched him. “Do you think I should check the other thing?”

“I am sure its safe. You wrapped it up properly. Just make sure you keep it hidden from Tavor.” Nechan carefully tucked the necklace back under his shirt, ensuring it was hidden.

Cradon did not reply. He knew that there was some truth in his brother’s words; after all, they had only known Tavor for four days.

Tavor returned shortly afterwards, carrying bulging waterskins. Neither twin queried what had taken him so long. He must have been mistaken about how far away the stream actually was.

It was cold and dark when Tavor rolled over to check the twins had finally fallen asleep. He had spent the past two hours waiting for them to drift off, and now he could hear their faint slumbering sounds. It was safe for him to make his move.

Careful not to make a noise, Tavor unwrapped himself from his blanket. Cradon snorted, and pulled his blankets closer up around his chin as he rolled over. Tavor froze, but when Cradon made no further sound, he crept out of the abandoned mine, away from the smouldering embers of the fading fire.

Silvery strands of mist hung in the air, winding around the grey-green tree trunks, illuminated by the shimmering moon high above. He had not walked far from the camp, wading through the mist silently, when he heard a sound behind him. Tavor instinctively melted into the shadow of a large elm tree, his back pressed against the smooth trunk. Silently, he unsheathed his hunting knife and gripped it firmly in his hand. Barely breathing, peering into the gloom, he waited and listened.

Despite his skills, Tavor did not hear the person sneak up behind him. The first he knew of him was the touch of cold steel pressed under his chin.

“Drop it!” the voice hissed.

Tavor raised his arm, dropping the knife into the decaying leaves.

“Are you carrying anything else?” There was a second voice, this time to his left.

“No.”  Tavor choked, the blade jabbing even harder into his throat.

Out of the shadows the second assailant revealed himself. He was dressed in Imperial armour, the moonlight glinting on the silver studs of his breastplate and leather gloves. The moonlight also made the nose ring and earrings shine. Raising his hand, the commander signalled for Tavor to be released. As soon as the blade was removed, he was kicked to his knees. Rubbing his neck, Tavor turned, but the first attacker had already blended into the shadows. He could sense there were more than two out there, and was certain he was surrounded.

“You’re alone?”

“Of course I am, Govan!” Tavor snapped, getting back to his feet. “What do you think I am? A
novice
?”

There was a rustle, and Tavor suddenly found himself at the receiving end of six blades. Govan snapped up his hand, signalling his troops not to advance. ”Lower your voice!” he hissed, the whites of his eyes flashed in anger. He took a step closer, and Tavor could now clearly make out the harsh, chiselled features of the man’s face, the meticulously shaved beard and head, and the glint of his nose ring.

“I came to find you earlier. You’re late.”

“We met some delay on the road. Nothing that concerns you, Imperial business. Do they suspect anything?”

“No,” Tavor smirked. “I convinced them you went the other way in search of them. But they will start to suspect something, especially the blonde one, if I keep having to sneak away because you’re
late!
”

“I assume it is nothing you can’t handle.” Govan took a step even nearer, standing face to face with Tavor. Neither man flinched, each determined to stand his ground.

“I know what is required of me.”

“Good.”

“When will you make your move?”

“When you can prove without a doubt they have they Spirit Star in their possession, and only when we are joined by the karzon.”

Tavor spat in disgust. “Karzon. Filth. We could do this without them.”

Govan punched Tavor hard across his jaw, filling his mouth quickly with the iron taste of blood. He stumbled back, but steadied himself against a tree.

“They are still several days ride away. They were delayed after their last attack. So we wait.”

Tavor wiped the blood from his chin and ran his tongue around his tender teeth and cheek. His jaw began to burn, throbbing with pain, as his lip started to swell. “How am I going to explain this to them?”

“I’m sure you can be creative! You will not need to wait with them much longer.”

“If there is nothing else, I should get back to them.”

Govan nodded in agreement.

“Brother in arms.”

“Strength in Brotherhood!”

The two men beat their chests once, as a sign of honour and the conversation was over. Tavor watched as Govan disappeared, slinking back into the milky shadows. Within seconds the entire company had vanished like ghosts. Tavor stooped and rummaged in the fallen leaves for his knife. He did not take his eyes off the direction Govan had taken, assuming he was still being watched. Picking up his knife, he wiped it clean and sheathed it before returning to camp.

“Do you trust him?” Javil watched as Tavor disappeared into the shadows back towards the mine and the twins.

“I don’t trust anyone,” Govan smiled, patting the hilt of his sword.

“All right, let me rephrase that question. Do you think he can complete his mission?”

“The man has no choice. This is his only chance to quash his exile. It’s this or death.”

Tavor had completely disappeared from view, and satisfied that he had returned to continue with his deceitful mission, they turned back to their men.

Thirteen men accompanied Govan and his second in command Javil. All were expertly trained in a variety of weaponry, each man individually picked for his skills. This was a Karvathan platoon. They were the most feared armed forces of the Empire. Although they were no match for the karzon or some of the other dark beasts, they executed the Rjukhan’s law with an iron fist.

Together they would wait in the shadows for the signal, lurking close, but out of sight of Tavor and the twins. Once the karzon joined them they would launch their attack, but only when they had received confirmation that the boys carried the Aeonorgal. There was always the possibility that they had buried it for safe keeping. This time, no one could afford to make a mistake.

When Tavor returned to the mine, the twins were still curled up in exactly the same positions. Taking his earlier advice, Cradon and Nechan were using their saddles as pillows. Their saddlebags however were piled up beside them.

Before leaving the farm Tavor had tried to rummage through their belongings, but these boys had brought so much with them. He had joked about it but it was going to cause him a problem. He was certain they had the Spirit Star. Something had told him right from the start they were keeping secrets from him, and of course there was the fact he had watched Cradon dig something up just before they left. He just had not managed to find it yet. These boys were proving to be more wary than he first gave them credit for. They just needed to provide him with one quick moment with all of their belongings unattended, then it would all be over.

Neither twin stirred as Tavor slid back into position on his bedroll. Even the horses barely twitched their ears. With a sigh of relief he pulled his woollen blanket up around his head. Part of him hated doing this to the boys as they reminded him of his younger self, but unfortunately their lives were about to take a sharp turn for the worse. It was a pity they had become embroiled in this. Slowly, still clutching his dagger, he drifted into a restless sleep filled with dark memories of the Empire and his living nightmare.
It would all be over soon
, he kept reassuring himself.

The comrades awoke, cold and damp in the early morning air. A fine mist still hugged the ground and draped the trees. They were all relieved that the night had passed without incident. Jaidan tried to encourage their small campfire back to life, but the embers had fizzled out in the damp air. Even the wood he had collected the night before was sodden and unusable.

“I suppose it’s cold, dry meat again. How I’m looking forward to more days of this!” Gomel moaned sarcastically. He was the last of the group to remain wrapped in his blanket, missing the normal comforts of home life. The gnome huddled in the middle of the camp staring at the damp ashes, his hood pulled up over his head. They were all miserable that morning, but only Gomel had the cheek to complain. Over the years spent underground he had forgotten how foul the weather could be in the outside world.

“Take it or leave it. It’s all we have!” Nymril dropped a small slither of cold brown meat into his lap. At one time it used to be succulent beef but now it was stiff and tasteless apart from the overwhelming tang of salt.

“I still don’t know why you couldn’t have brought that fox back. I am sure it was edible and far better meat than this!” He scowled at Jaidan who was refilling the group’s waterskins from a small trickling spring.

“Trust me, it was tainted meat. You would not have been able to stomach it,” reasoned Jaidan.

“I think we should speak no more of this animal. It will only serve to help its evil linger here.”

“Always the voice of doom, eh, Gaular?” Gomel mocked as he tugged on the dry meat with his teeth. “Besides, what’s the likelihood there are more?”

Jaidan stopped filling the waterskins to turn and answer the question, “Very likely.”

 “We might not be their primary target any more, but they will still want to know where we are,” added Eilendan.

Nymril had perched herself on the end of a fallen tree trunk, and was studying her aeonthel. Its bright light radiated throughout the camp as the internal rings began their dance around one another. “They pursue it while we follow them,” she whispered despairingly, almost as if she had given up. Her hand was still bracing her ribs as she breathed, and even the slightest movement was a chore.

“How far away are we, do you think?” Eilendan now stood at her side.

“Not far…..” Nymril’s voice trailed off as she continued watching her aeonthel.

“Will you be able to fight?” He was concerned about her welfare but also that of the entire group.

“That’s a very good question. I don’t know whether any of us iis fit to fight just yet.” Gomel began rocking himself in his blanket, his arms hugging around his body wishing he could get used to the dampness that made his joints ache.

“Stop this! We are all tired, or injured, but we cannot give up.” Gaular now stood defiantly in the centre of the camp. “Our Elders sent us on this mission because they believed in our ability to complete it. I will not fail them whether I have you fighting at my side or not.” Making a point, he patted his hammer with his huge, hairy hand.

“Gaular is right. We must finish this, or die trying.” Jaidan began tidying the camp and scuffing the burnt embers of the fire into the undergrowth, destroying any evidence of their presence. Inspired by Gaular and Jaidan’s words, finding new strength and energy, the rest of the group began doing the same, except Gomel.

“Brave words from a Dwarf who has never seen combat!” he griped, emerging resentfully from his blanket.

“Then stay here and see if your conscience will let you fall back to sleep. Perhaps Gnomes have become soft with their centuries underground.” Gaular had slung his hammer over his shoulder, objecting to the gnome’s insults.

Eilendan stood between them. “The past few centuries have been hard on all our kin, even those too young to have fought in the last war. It’s up to you whether you wish to continue with this mission or not. Either way, we are leaving now, so it is your choice.”

The two elves mounted their horses and began to trot from the clearing, leaving Gaular and Gomel to their bckering.

“Gaular? Gomel? We cannot do this without you.” Jaidan said before spurring his horse to follow Nymril and Eilendan.

Gaular grunted and nodded to the gnome. Slinging his hammer onto his back, he mounted his horse, leaving Gomel alone in the clearing.

Still disgruntled, the gnome watched as his friends began to disappear one by one from sight, lost in the sea of tree trunks and brush.

“Of course they can’t do this without me!” muttered Gomel to himself. “Come on, you need to show them what Gnomes are made of, they appear to have forgotten!”

Gomel waited stubbornly for a few moments, assuming one of his companions would come back for him. When it became clear that they were actually leaving without him, he quickly rolled up his blanket and took several attempts to mount his horse. He kept glancing in the direction his comrades had taken, hoping they would reappear. With one foot in a stirrup, Gomel hung in mid air as the horse began trotting off. Clinging on tightly, bumping up and down awkwardly, he finally managed to heave his old body properly into the saddle.

Some distance away across the woods, the twins had also awoken, their camp also smothered in a white mist that dusted everything with silver dew. Tavor had been awake for several hours and had successfully rekindled the fire. It was the smell of hot tea and a fried breakfast that woke the boys from their deep slumber. Neither of them suspected anything about Tavor’s activities in the night, his demeanour seemed the same as ever, greeting them both with a warm, hearty smile as he handed them each a mug of tea.