Light Of Loreandril (18 page)

“Tavor will be impressed when he gets back.” Cradon was taking great care to lay out the three bedrolls evenly spaced around the fire. He had also given Tavor’s horse a quick groom, despite the irritated looks he received from Nechan.

“What are you going to do when Tavor leaves and goes back to his farm?” Nechan mocked. “Who are you going to idolise then?” He laughed at his brother again, but secretly he was starting to feel jealous.

“Well, maybe he won’t leave. Perhaps we can go back to the farm with him for a bit.” He paused and sat down on the bedroll next to Nechan.

Nechan shook his head in disbelief. His brother was more naive and taken in by this stranger than he realised. “Firstly, we still don’t know that much about him, secondly, soldiers have already visited his farm looking for us, and thirdly….”

“What? Go on…..”

“Well thirdly, to be quite frank, I still don’t trust him.”

Cradon leapt up, frustrated with his brother. “I can’t believe how paranoid you get. Honestly, anyone would think you are envious of my friendship with him!” Disgruntled by his brother’s comments he began rummaging through his saddlebags, his back turned to Nechan.

“What are you doing?” Nechan was tired after the long day of riding and did not have the patience to contend with his highly-strung brother. Astonished, he watched his Cradon pull everything out from his saddlebags until he reached the bottom and pulled out the large orb still wrapped in a blanket.

“Put it away…What are you doing?”

“I am going to show it to Tavor…..prove once and for all to you that he can be trusted. Then you will have to let him come with us.”

Nechan scrambled over to his brother and tried to grab the silver sphere from him. They struggled briefly until it tumbled from Cradon’s hands,  rolling across the camp and into the fire. The twins screamed in angst as they watched it stop in the middle of the flames. Surely it would be destroyed or at least damaged. They each hurried to grab a stick, and tried to roll it back out of the fire. The flames cracked and ash puffed as they stabbed at the burning kindling, trying to rescue the silver ball. It was starting to glow white.

Finally, working together, they managed to lever it out. The orb rolled across the ground and came to rest in the leaf litter between the roots of a tree. Nechan snatched up his waterskin, ran over and doused the globe, as Cradon knelt down to inspect it for damage. Much to their relief and amazement, the silver sphere did not appear to be marred; in fact, it was completely unscathed. Still anxious, Cradon reached out and touched the orb with his fingertips. Remarkably, it was cold to the touch.

“Can we put it away now?” Nechan whispered.

His bashful brother nodded in agreement immediately. Carefully, Cradon wrapped it back up in the blanket and stowed it in the concealed pocket of his saddle once more, all under the watchful eye of Nechan.

They sat on opposite sides of the fire, arms crossed, staring at each other while they waited for Tavor to return. Behind them, a covert shadow who had been watching in silence, slipped away to report all he had seen.

Tavor did not return empty-handed. Much to the twins delight he had caught two young rabbits, which he had skinned and gutted while walking back. He was pleased to find the camp was organised, with a good fire blazing and a small cauldron of water starting to boil.

“Looks like I arrived just in time!”  He quickly sliced up the rabbits with his sharp hunting blade and tossed the meat into the pot, adding a variety of herbs and wild mushrooms he had collected during the day.

“You boys seem quiet. Did something happen while I was away?”

“No. We’re just tired,” snapped Nechan, lying down on his side to watch Tavor prepare the stew.

“Cradon?”

Cradon shook his head at Tavor, agreeing with his brother, but unable to hide the furrowed scowl covering his freckled face.

“Well, we have had a long day and covered a lot of distance, which is what you wanted.” Tavor continued to stir the stew, the tasty smell already starting to fill the small clearing. “It will be sometime before it’s cooked. Why don’t you boys get some rest and I will wake you when it’s ready.”

The boys did not refuse the offer. Although they were not really as tired as they had pretended, neither of them was particularly keen on having to make polite conversation with the others. Having a nap seemed like the perfect solution.

Jaidan arrived back at camp out of breath and flustered. He had sprinted the whole way and had not realised how much distance he had covered while scouting. The group were startled and concerned as he fell on his knees panting.

“I’ve found it……They have it………over……..” He pointed in the direction he had just come from, still trying to catch his breath.

“What? Slow down.”

“Tell us again.”

“Who have you found?”

They all crowded round him asking frantic questions, trying to make sense of Jaidan’s babbling. They gave him a drink, and allowed him a few moments to calm down, taking deep breaths.

“I found the Aeonorgal. I saw them holding it,” he panted, wiping his sweaty forehead with the edge of his green cloak.

“Who has it?” Eilendan clutched Jaidan’s broad, thin shoulders, feeling the urge to shake sense into him.

“Two boys.”

“Two boys! What do you mean two boys? Who are they?” Eilendan voiced the confused they were all feeling.

“I don’t know who they are. I didn’t stop to ask. I came straight here first!”

“Well, we have to go there now!” Nymril demanded, drawing her blade.

“Wait…. There’s more you have to hear first.”

Eilendan grasped Nymril by the arm, restraining her from running off in the direction Jaidan had come from.

“They seem to be unaccompanied, but, I’m sure there are Imperial soldiers close by. I don’t believe they are following us. It looks as though they are on the trail of the boys. I just can’t work out what they are waiting for.”

With this news the whole group collapsed in stunned silence on the ground, each contemplating Jaidan’s words. Something more devious was at work here and there was clearly a storm brewing. They had expected another fight on their hands, but only with the karzon, not Imperial troops as well.

There was also the added problem of the two boys who had somehow become entangled in this.
What was their role? Did they know and understand what they carried? Were they decoys of the Empire, or were they just innocent bystanders caught up in this fight for survival?
 

“Look, we cannot wait here for the solution. I vote we just go and introduce ourselves to these two boys.” Gaular now stood, holding his war hammer, tapping its heavy head in the palm of his large hand. His face was scowling, accentuating the ridges at the top of his nose.

“We should at least go and have a look at what we are up against.” Gomel was quite keen on investigating these boys and getting it all over and done. The sooner they retrieved the Aeonorgal the sooner he could go back to his hidden, underground kingdom.

“Eilendan?” Nymril looked at him, waiting for the final decision.

The elf sighed and rubbed his worried brow with his forearm. He had not ever imagined this would become so convoluted. “We will go quietly. We should move on them quickly before the troops realise, and then run. But we must not harm these boys if they are innocent.”

“Even at the risk of losing the Aeonorgal again?” Nymril was surprised at Eilendan’s words. They had already lost it once and none of them could bear the thought of that happening again.

Eilendan did not answer. Instead he saddled his horse and began packing up their belongings, preparing to make a move.

“Captain! Captain!” Falte came crashing through the undergrowth into the camp, scattering pots, bedrolls and burning embers as he fell onto the ground at Govan’s feet. He was breathing hard after his long, frantic sprint.

“Compose yourself, soldier! Speak!” Govan barked, looking disdainfully at the wreck of a trooper slumped before him.

Slowly, Falte got his breath back and stood to attention before his commanding officer. “Apologies, Captain. I bring urgent news!”

The rest of the men began gathering round to hear what Falte had to say. It was not often that they saw one of their own acting like this. Something was definitely wrong. Still, he was young and new to the troop, having been chosen solely on the merits of his tracking and scouting abilities.

“They are making their move, Sir.”

“What?” bellowed Govan.

The woods sprang to life with the sudden disturbance of his voice.

“Somehow, I lost sight of one of them, and, he must have stumbled across the other camp.”  

A silence fell over the soldiers. The only noise was the sound of Falte’s heavy breathing as he admitted his mistake.

“You
lost sight
of one of them!” Govan did not even have to give the command. Javil, his trusted second officer, punched Falte hard, the blow landing squarely on his jaw and sending him flying into a tree trunk behind him. He landed hard and fell on his knees, holding up a hand to feel his jaw. Immediately it began to swell.

Falte shook himself and stood to attention again, eyes straight ahead, hoping that this was the end of it. The rest of the men took a step back in silence, watching Falte take his punishment. Javil thrust another punch into Falte’s stomach. It rippled through the sturdy leather armour and across his torso, easily winding him as he fell once more to his knees. He struggled to hold back his cry of anguish, as Javil kicked him several times in his side, his iron-toed boot punching through several ribs. Falte rolled onto his back gasping for breath, holding up his hands as a sign of surrender.

The young recruit tried to push himself up once more to his feet, but was not given the chance. Javil drew his blade; the sound of ringing metal resonated around the glen. Grabbing hold of Falte by his scruff he held his sword high, preparing to dispatch his final punishment.

“Enough!” Govan shouted, stopping Javil mid-swing. The blade was just touching Falte’s neck. “We do not have time for this. We need him…..for now!”

The rest of the soldiers fell into an orderly line behind Govan. Javil spat at Falte’s face then sheathed his sword. Still holding Falte by the scruff of his neck, he joined Govan at the head of the column. At Govan’s command, Falte, bleeding and hardly able to breathe, was forced to lead the troop into the woods towards their unsuspecting prey. Their captain had not yet decided what to do; he needed to assess the situation with his own eyes first, an ambush could be too hasty.

“Come now boys, you can’t be that tired!” Tavor was stirring the aromatic stew that was bubbling merrily in the small cauldron suspended just above the flickering flames. He took a sip, wincing at the temperature. “This is ready! Do you want me to plate some out or are you going to continue pretending to be asleep?”

Cradon and Nechan lay on opposite sides of the campfire, facing outwards towards the woods. Neither had said a word since wrapping themselves up in their grey, woollen blankets, but Tavor knew they were not asleep. He had spent his time banging pots, stoking the fire, singing to himself, and generally making as much noise as possible to keep the boys awake. He knew they had obviously had some kind of argument while he had been away and he was intrigued to know what it had been about.

Cradon finally rolled over and sat up. Wide-eyed, he had obviously not been asleep, but had spent the whole evening mulling over everything his brother and Tavor had said during the past few days. Even so, he could not fathom how Nechan did not trust Tavor. There was nothing he could think of that gave him reason to doubt the truth of Tavor’s words or actions.

“At last! Life in the camp!” Tavor grinned. He began ladling out some of the hot rabbit stew into a small wooden bowl and handed it to Cradon. “There you go, lad. Nechan, are you going to join us?” Tavor turned to look at Nechan who still had his back turned towards them.

“No!” came the muffled answer. Nechan was still too angry with his brother to eat. He felt helpless and did not see a way out of their situation. They were becoming dependent on Tavor, and this was only going to get worse with every passing day.

“Fine, suit yourself. More for the two of us!” Cradon sniped back.

Nechan continued to lie completely still, not attempting to sleep, but listening to every quiet, mumbled word between Tavor and his brother, mixed with the rustles and woodland noises all around him.

Several hours passed before Tavor and Cradon eventually turned in for the night. The fire still burned, slowly sinking into its own ashes, the embers glowing brightly. They finally all fell asleep, tired after their long day of travelling.

Something made Tavor stir, waking abruptly from his dream. He did not open his eyes, but instead lay perfectly still and listened. To the unknowing eye he appeared tol be fast asleep. Straining his ears, Tavor could hear nothing, not even the nightly sounds of woodland creatures, or the faint hum of moths dancing in the fading firelight. It was eerily quiet. A dark thought consumed his mind.
Perhaps Govan and the karzon were about to attack?
It would all be over in an instant. He rolled over, sat up, and opened his eyes, expecting to see Govan standing over him.

To Tavor’s astonishment it was not the captain. Strong, black arms grabbed him from behind, clamping around his chest and face, stifling his cry. Through hairy fingers, he looked up and saw a second figure, tall and cloaked, standing over him
. Was this a karzon?
He could not tell; the hood was pulled too tightly around his face, hiding it from view.

Tavor struggled, with little to show for his effort, but out of the corner of his eye saw two more forms crouched over the twins. A fifth, unknown person stood in the shadows, just out of sight. Again he looked at the person before him. Tavor was scared.

“We mean you no harm.” The voice was calm and eloquent, but had a tone that commanded obedience. The figure came closer and leaned down over him. For a moment Tavor thought of kicking out but wisely reconsidered, still held from behind in a vice-like grip.