Light Of Loreandril (19 page)

Govan and his men must have caught wind of this, surely they would be here at any moment to intervene and put an end to this.

“Will you obey me if I release you?”

Tavor stared at the tall figure, the whites of his eyes showing, a mixture of fear and anger surging through his muscles.

The figure pointed with his blade at the two slumbering boys. “If you run, shout or try to attack us,
they
will die.”

Tavor pondered this for a brief moment, there were too many thoughts crowding his mind, and he could not think straight. Feeling his chest squeezed more tightly by the unseen assailant behind him, pushing out every molecule of air, the clansman gave a nervous, quick nod of agreement. The grip loosened slowly and cautiously; his attacker was ready to seize Tavor again if he made a wrong move.

Tavor turned to look over at the boys. The other two shapes had taken a step away from them, their drawn weapons glinting angrily in the red hue of the firelight. The fifth ambusher still remained at the edge of the clearing.

“Wake them,” the tall figure commanded. He was clearly the commander of a group of renegades. Tavor just looked at him, not wanting to move, puzzled by this command.
Why did they not wake the twins themselves?
 

“Go - over - and - wake - them!” The words were spoken more firmly. “We need to speak to them, but we need everyone’s co-operation.”  

Tavor did not argue but slowly and quietly moved over towards Cradon who lay the nearest to him.

Under the close supervision of the unidentified assailants, he gently shook Cradon. The boy awoke with a start, but Tavor instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth so he did not make a sound that would alert his brother. Tavor motioned to him to be silent. Cradon’s eyes widened in fear as he caught sight of the strangers in the camp, surrounding them. Obeying his friend, the boy sat silently, huddled in his blanket and rocking, trying to stop himself from shaking. He was frightened and confused.
What did these people want? Were they soldiers come to take them away?
 

Tavor now roused Nechan. He was also startled by the unexpected awakening, but quickly stopped fighting Tavor’s grip when he saw the invaders in the camp, brandishing weapons.

The captors quickly bound their wrists and ankles and forced the trio to sit side by side, their backs to the fire. One of the strangers piled on several more logs, stoking the fire as its flames began to lick around, enveloping the new wood. The three captives sat cross- legged, barely daring to breathe or move.

The tallest of their captors, the only one so far to speak, took several steps forward to stand before them.

“You do not need to fear us. We can be friends.”

With these words he removed his hood. The companions gasped at the sight of the pale slender face and graceful, pointed ears. It was an elf. The other assailants also stepped forward into the firelight, removing their hoods and revealing their faces. Before them stood another tall, elegant elf, a young, untidy-looking clansman, and a tall, well-built and black-skinned figure with a gnarled, ridged nose. Their last attacker was short and squat with a face full of wrinkles. The boys had never seen anyone like these last two.

“These are my travelling companions,” explained the elf. “They, too, wish you no ill-will.”

Nechan could not help but stare at the pointed Elven ears, clearly on show, the silver hair smoothed behind. “You say that, yet you have bound our hands and feet, and entered our camp like you are our enemy.”

“Brave words, and from such a boy.” The untidy young man took a step towards Nechan and crouched before him, studying his face intensely. “You’re a Hundlinger, correct?”

Nechan nodded nervously.

“I have passed through your valley once or twice. You are both a long way from home.” He glanced over at Cradon who was now as white as a sheet.

The elf drew himself up a little.  “My name is Eilendan. This is Jaidan,” he said, pointing at the clansman crouched before them. Jaidan leaned forward and to Nechan’s surprise and relief cut the cord that was bound tightly around his wrists, followed by the one around his ankles.

“Is that wise?” The other elf stood over Jaidan, watching as he untied Cradon. Her fine silvery hair glistened in the firelight, with thin wisps caught up in the cool night breeze. Even though filled with fear, Cradon could not take his eyes from her. The stories he had been told did not do Elves any justice.

“You’re not going to try to run, are you?”  Jaidan held his short dagger up in front of Nechan’s eyes, a knowing smile fleeting across his, tanned, bearded face. Although he looked like a wild man, there was something trustworthy about his face, and his deep brown eyes spoke friendliness.

Nechan gulped in fear at the sight of the sharp weapon being held so close to his face, and shook his head, stuttering, “No, sir.”

“What of your friend here?”  Jaidan pointed at Tavor who still sat bound, a gag tied tightly around his mouth.

“He won’t do anything. This is Tavor, our friend and guide. Please untie him!” Cradon babbled, flushing, knowing he had spoken out of turn.

“Tell me this first. How did two young Hundlinger boys end up travelling with a Brathunder clansman? That’s quite unusual, to say the least.”

“We met him four days ago and he agreed to help us travel through these woods safely.”  Nechan was surprised that he was speaking for Tavor, but he felt he owed him this at least. Who knew what these strangers were capable of? Jaidan tapped the dagger on the palm of his hand, pondering Nechan’s words. He glanced at Eilendan, who nodded. Quickly, Jaidan untied Tavor, removing his gag last of all.

“Do I know you?” were the first spiteful words out of Tavor’s mouth. He stared at Jaidan who returned the glare with a stony-faced.

“A fellow Brathunder knows another when he meets one. But, you are not familiar to me.”

“That’s not unusual in this day and age. There are not many of us left.” Tavor stated uneasily, Jaidan’s eyes still fixed upon him. He knew this was going to be a long night.

“Would you mind telling us what you want? Why have you broken into our camp in the middle of the night and tied us up? Who are you?” Nechan felt renewed courage now his bonds had been removed sensng they were not in any immediate danger. Cradon sat in silence, rubbing the raw chaffing marks the coarse rope had left around his wrists and ankles.

The female elf took a step closer towards them, clutching a cloth-covered object in both hands. “There will be plenty of time to answer your questions. First, we have many we want you to answer.”  She slipped off the embroidered, silver cloth, and to the twins’ dismay revealed their silver orb, now shining more brightly than ever in her hands. She must have been ransacking their belongings while they slept.

Tavor blinked in the bright light, hardly believing what he saw.
How could this all have gone so wrong? Where were Govan and his men?
 

“Captain?” Javil whispered. “Captain?”

Govan motioned for Javil to be silent and continued watching the scene. They had got there moments too late.

He had two choices. The first was to charge and ambush the group of heavily armed travellers who had already beaten off an attack from the karzon and an uzgen, not to mention killing the original troop that were carrying the Spirit Star. They may out-number them, but they could prove too much even for his men to take on. The second option was to bide his time and wait for the karzon, and then attack. They would hopefully stand more chance of success. At least now they knew for certain that the Spirit Star was in their possession.

“Captain?” Javil asked again, getting impatient just watching and waiting. “Are we attacking? The men are ready.”

Govan considered their options, tempted for a moment to attack. He dispelled this thought and slid silently down the shallow bank to rejoin the rest of his men. They lay waiting, eager to fight, their weapons already drawn.

“We wait for the karzon. Then we attack.” Govan stood and motioned for the men to follow him back into the depths of the woods.

“Captain, should I set up a watch?” Javil queried.

“Yes.” He paused. “But send Thakon, not Falte.”

Javil nodded and motioned to Thakon who sprinted back to keep watch on the events unfolding at the camp.

As soon as they were out of earshot and sight of the campfire and companions, Govan motioned for Falte to join him. Nervously, the young recruit obeyed.

“We have unfinished business, Falte.” In one swift movement, Govan unsheathed his sword and plunged it deep into Falte’s chest, too quickly for him to defend himself or let out a plea for mercy. Govan pulled the sword from his chest with a spray of scarlet, hot blood. He held Falte tightly around the neck with his other hand, staring into the eyes of the dying boy. Govan liked to watch the last moments before death. It gave him a satisfying sense of power and control.

“You betrayed the Empire. Your punishment is death.”

Falte gurgled, blood and frothing saliva dripping from the sides of his mouth as he exhaled his last breath. The eyes clouded, losing the last glimmer of life. Govan dropped the dead body and walked away to rejoin the rest of his men, leaving it to be ravaged by scavengers. No one questioned his actions.

“We will all make camp here tonight,” Eilendan announced.

Jaidan pulled Eilendan closer, holding his forearm firmly. “Are you sure? With the others out there would it not be better to move on?”

“I’m not sure of anything at the moment,” Eilendan whispered in reply. “But we are all tired. Besides, we can keep a better eye on these three if we stay here, rather than lose them in the woods.”

Jaidan nodded, agreeing with his friend. Something inside was gnawing at his nerves about Tavor. Instincts told him this clansman could not be trusted.

Jaidan and Gaular left the camp following Eilendan’s instructions but returned a short while later leading five horses. The twins and Tavor still sat with their backs to the fire, they had not wanted to move, unsure of their captors’ intentions.

“Pssst…..” Tavor discretely half turned to the boys and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell you had that thing with you?” It was obviously that he was referring to silver sphere which the female elf had wrapped up in the embroidered cloth. The two elves and Jaidan sat deep in deliberation.

“Ask Nechan,” mumbled Cradon his head hung low.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t trust you enough. I thought it was important to keep it secret.”

“Well it might have been useful to know. I’d have been more careful if I had known what you were carrying,” Tavor snapped. He was irritated by the night’s events, and still confused and concerned that Govan and his men had not yet made an appearance.
Were they watching them, somewhere out there in the dark shadows?
He hated the fact he was no longer in control of the situation.

“Would you boys like a drink?” The short, gnarled man came over to them and offered Nechan his brown leather waterskin. Nechan looked at his dirty, hairy hands with blackened, chewed fingernails, then studied the shiny head and crinkled face.

“Go on then, take it.”

Nechan took the waterskin from the man, still staring at him.

“Ahh, I understand,” he laughed. “You haven’t seen someone like me before, have you?”

Nechan shook his head and the strange man sat cross-legged before him.

“Let me introduce myself. I am Gomel, loyal servant of the Gnome king, Gorthel.”

“A gnome?” Tavor was more shocked about meeting a gnome than an elf. Even Barnon had agreed gnomes were wiped out long ago. “But……”

“Let me guess, you thought we didn’t exist! Common mistake….easily made…..if you don’t know where to look!” Gomel lay down on his side and removed a small wooden pipe from the pale leather pouch on his belt. He proceeded to fill it with dark, strongly scented tobacco.

“So where have you all been?” Cradon asked. Even he had become intrigued and no longer looked so solemn and nervous, the colour returning to his cheeks.

“In hiding. Deep under the mountain roots in our kingdom, Ghornathia!”

“Is it dark?”

“Omph!” Gomel laughed raucously, slapping his thigh. “Dear boy! What a question! I guess all your stories about gnomes tell you we live in dirty holes underground!” He could not stop his laughter, genuinely amused by Cradon’s question. “We build the most splendid chandeliers; far more beautiful than you could imagination. We make calcite and halite glow with the light of a thousand candles. You have to see it to truly appreciate it.”

“It sounds exquisite!” Nechan was fascinated. He could not stop studying Gomel’s mannerisms and strange facial features, hanging on his every word, still in disbelief. A real, living gnome was talking to him; it was like a bewildering dream. If only Barnon could be here to witness all of this. “Do you mind me asking, but who’s that man over there?” Nechan discretely pointed towards the large, dark-skinned man, not wanting to make it too obvious.

“Man?” Gomel chuckled to himself again, and took another puff on his wooden pipe, the smell of the tobacco filling the small glen. “
That
, or should I say
He
, is a dwarf.”

“But….I thought Dwarves were, well……
short
?” Cradon said, in as much confusion about this as Nechan. The twins both looked over at the strange being who was meticulously inspecting and sharpening the edge of his comrade’s sword, holding a whetstone in his large hand.

“Well, my friend over there…. Gaular ……is a Dun dwarf. He gets quite uppity about it, just so you know. Make sure you watch your words and mind your manners around him.” He smiled with teasing pleasure as the faces of the two boys dropped. “You’ll find he’s quite quick tempered, whereas I am quite calm and friendly by nature!” Gomel was enjoying his conversation. It was along time since he had talked to any clansman other than Jaidan, and he had forgotten quite how gullible they could be, especially the youngsters.