Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (49 page)

Enstorion momentarily thought he was going unconscious, but he blinked his eyes and his vision cleared, somewhat.

Garrick looked puzzled, “I thought that you wanted them caught.” He said hesitantly.

“Yes.” The woman magic-user said as she moved up on Kara's left. “We do, but we want them alive.” Her voice was clear and cold, each word rang out as she spoke. With her right hand, she flung a powder into the Kara's face.

Choking and sputtering, Kara tried to spit the powder out of her mouth. She struggled for just a moment, before slumping backward in the saddle. The only thing that kept her from falling off of her horse was the left arm of Garrick, who still held her by the hair.

A moment or two later, Enstorion joined her in unconsciousness.

Chapter 21

Flare re-entered their camp from the north, having just made friends with a leafy bush. This was the end of the fourth day of traveling, since Lord Vinekh had asked Arnok to take them to find this Morley. In those four days, Arnok had kept to himself, only speaking when spoken to, and then only saying what was absolutely necessary. Both Philip and Atock had expressed their concerns about the dwarf to Flare, but he had chosen to ignore them so far. There was a good reason behind it. If this Morley knew the area around the
Black Forest
, then he could be invaluable to them.

Sitting down near the fire, he held his hands to warm them. The weather was cold here, but it still hadn't snowed. The worse had been the morning two days ago, when they had woken up to frost covering the ground. It made for unpleasant sleeping, but they seemed to be getting used to it.

It was Philip's turn to cook, and he handed a plate to Flare. It wasn't much of a dinner, but Atock had managed to catch several trout in a small stream, so they had fresh fish and some bread. “Thanks,” Flare said, taking the offered plate.

“Sure.” Philip said, stretching his lower back. “I'm going to step to the forest for a few minutes to relieve myself.” Then grinning, he added, “Do you want me to bring you anything back?”

Flare grinned in spite of himself, “No, but thanks for asking.” He looked around, seeing Arnok, but not Atock. “Where did Atock go?”

Philip paused, “He went to scout around the camp. He's just checking the area.” Flare nodded, and Philip left through the bushes.

Tearing the hot fish apart, the smell of it was wonderful, he took a bite of the bread. He looked up and caught Arnok staring at him. “Something on your mind?” Flare asked, his mouth full of bread. He didn't actually expect an answer, after all the dwarf had hardly spoken more than was required during the last four days.

“Yes.” The dwarf replied stoically. “I find it hard to imagine that a half-elf is traveling to Golt and it's not related to Kelcer.” He didn't exactly pose a question, but he implied one. His eyes were locked on Flare as if he was trying to dissect the half-elf.

“What is it that you want to know?” Flare asked, not sure how he should answer. He didn't want to lie to the dwarf; that was a horrible way to repay him, especially after all of his help. But then again he couldn't very well tell him the truth.

“Are you the one?”

Arnok spoke so softly that Flare almost couldn't hear him. The dwarf's voice was quiet and what? Was that fear in his voice? Probably it was, and Flare didn't blame him one bit. Kelcer had described the coming destroyer vividly, and only a fool would be able to sit next to the destroyer without feeling fear. 'I can't be the one,' Flare thought. 'I'm not a murderer!' Thoughts came unbidden to his mind. The young soldier whose throat he had cut in front of a room full of soldiers, and why? He had killed because the boy had challenged him, the knowledge that it might have saved Telur only eased the pain slightly.

Callin and Murleen's faces popped into his mind as well. He hadn't killed them himself, but he was responsible nevertheless for their deaths. As always, the thought of Murleen felt like a dagger plunged into his heart, and he tried and succeeded to a small degree, to force the sadness away.

Other faces came to mind. Colonel Holt and the others that had died at Mul-Dune. So much death and it all could be laid at his feet. Was that what Kelcer had meant?

'You did not kill them. They died serving their King.'
That ghostly voice said.

Flare had not heard that voice in a long time, and if the truth be told he wished he wasn't hearing it now. He glanced over at Arnok to make sure that he hadn't heard it, and the dwarf gave no sign that he had heard anything. Choosing to ignore the voice as well, he shifted in his seat to face the dwarf better. “I know that I fit many of the descriptions that Kelcer gave about the coming evil one. But know this; I am not the one that he spoke of.” Flare felt like it was only partially a lie, as there simply was no way that he could be the evil one who was supposed to take all of those thousands of lives. There was no way that he could be that person.

“Are you sure?” The dwarf asked.

Flare's face shot up to meet the dwarf's gaze. “What do you mean?”

Arnok shrugged, “You seem less than sure yourself.”

He sighed and set down his forgotten plate of bread and fish. “Arnok, have you ever killed anyone?” The dwarf seemed slightly surprised, but nodded. Flare nodded his head too, “So have I. Some lives I have taken with my own hands, while others were soldiers who died while serving under my command. Either way, I am in part responsible for their deaths. Meaning, that I could be called a murderer.”

Arnok shook his head, “Those deaths are a part of life. Kelcer was speaking of something much darker. The killer that he spoke of is supposed to enjoy and relish it.”

“Well, then you can rest assured that I most certainly am not Kelcer's killer.” Flare rubbed the side of his face, “There's not a night that goes by, where I don't think about the commands I gave. Wondering if there was something I could have done differently, something where so many wouldn't have died.”

Silence hung in the air for several moments, before the dwarf spoke. “I believe you.” More seemed to be said than just the words. A genuine sense of belief was there, something that had apparently been lacking for the past four days.

“Thank you,” Flare said. Feeling multiple emotions wash over him at the dwarf's words. Relief, gratitude, and perhaps a bit of guilt all took their turns.

The dwarf stood up and moved to put his plate up. “Now, don't go getting all misty eyed on me. Doesn't mean that I'm sharing your blankets tonight.”

Flare laughed, it was the first joke the dwarf had made since they had met him at the inn.

The next day was overcast, and Flare would have sworn that it was going to snow. He hadn't completely adjusted to the warmer southern weather, and at this time in Telur, it had to be snowing. As it was, the overcast weather simply made it cooler, but not unbearable. They each just pulled their cloaks tighter around them and rode on. The weather did affect their camaraderie, though, as they were each much less talkative than normal. Which was a shame, as the dwarf had just started being friendly.

They rode through the day, each absorbed in their own thoughts, and Flare fought to keep alert. It wasn't easy, though. Between the cool weather and the boring scenery, a nap began to sound wonderful to him.

The lands they were passing through were monotonous. At first, the lands around Helum had been grasslands, quite a few farmers had taken advantage of those flatlands and for the first couple of days they had passed farm after farm. But around the start of the third day, the farms had started disappearing fast. The land was becoming hillier, and copses of trees were now scattered along the roadside. The road itself changed from a well maintained road to little more than a dusty, partially overgrown trail. This morning, the trees were growing much closer to the road, and the surrounding countryside was definitely becoming wilder.

They stopped for a brief cold meal around mid-day, but by then the weather had taken a toll on their moods. Cold and miserable, Flare was sitting against a small tree and thinking longingly of digging out a blanket, when Arnok walked over and squatted down. “If we pick up the pace a little, we should be able to reach Morley's by sundown.” He shrugged, “Or, perhaps just a little after.”

Wincing at the idea of getting back on the horse so soon, Flare looked up at the sky. “You think the weather might slow us down? It kind of feels like rain to me.”

“Nah.” The dwarf said in his usual gruff voice. “I don't think so. Maybe to the west, but that shouldn't affect us.”

Silently hating the dwarf, Flare climbed back to his feet, stretching to loosen the soreness in his muscles. “Okay!” He called out, clapping his hands. “Let's get going.”

“What's the rush?” Philip grumbled, as he too started to stand.

“Arnok thinks we can reach Morley's by sundown, or a little after.”

“If we don't get there till after dark, then how are we going to get our camp set up?” Atock asked, pulling his cloak together as he stood. He too was in a foul mood.

As the three guardians turned to face the short dwarf, a smile broke out across his face. “Well, I don't know about you,” he said with a cheeriness no one else felt, “But I would much prefer to sleep indoors tonight.”

“What?” Flare exclaimed, hearing the other two echo his question. “Does this Morley have room for all of us?”

Arnok nodded, “There's room for all of us. Now, it's not a palace, but it will be warm and dry. Oh, and Morley is an excellent cook. I'm sure that he won't mind fixing us something, even if we get there after dark.”

Smiling and feeling his spirits lift, Flare turned to the other two guardians, “Come on! Let's get moving.”

They too moved with a new spring in their step, as they rushed to pack up and get mounted.

Flare's mood was only slightly dampened by the drizzling rain that started to fall as they mounted their horses. As always, getting on the horse was a struggle for the dwarf, but he managed it somehow. Glancing up into the drizzling rain, he turned to Arnok, “I thought that you said it probably wouldn't rain.”

Arnok didn't even look over, but Flare could hear him cursing and grumbling quite clearly.

They rode throughout the rest of the day, each man thinking about a warm and dry bed to sleep in. The rain continued to fall, although it was just a constant drizzle it still managed to get their cloaks and horses soaked. Luckily, the cloaks were water-proof, which was the only thing that kept them from getting soaked to the skin. To top everything off, however, the temperature was dropping as the sun edged to the horizon. “How much farther?” Flare called to Arnok. Whether or not they reached Morley's home tonight, they needed to find shelter soon, or they could freeze to death. The cold by itself wasn't too bad, but the rain was going to make starting a campfire difficult if not impossible. They were wet, the temperature was dropping quick, and chances of a fire were not good. Every time they rounded a bend in the road, Flare kept hoping to see a small farm house off to the side of the road, but so far, nothing.

In answer to the question, Arnok pulled the cowl of his cloak down and glanced around. The countryside had become much hillier, and it made difficult to see a good distance. As it was, though, Flare had asked his question as they topped a small hill, thereby helping with the visibility. “Not far.” The dwarf called back, “See those two hills.” He pointed to two rather large hills that were completely covered in trees, just off of the left side of the road, maybe a mile ahead of them.

Flare covered his eyes to keep the rain out, and stood up in his stirrups to get a better view. “Yeah.” He called back.

“It's at the base of them, in between them.” Arnok quickly pulled his cowl back up, but his hair and face were already soaked. The damage was done.

Flare nodded, his spirits rising. With any luck they would be inside, all nice and warm, within half an hour. Grinning, he kicked his horse to a faster pace.

It took about twenty minutes to get from the small hill to the base of the two tree covered hills, and the sun was almost down, making it harder to see. All the while, they were thinking of warm clothes, warm blankets, and warm food. Almost shaking with excitement, they rounded the base of the hill, and followed a small trail to the trapper's house. Actually, they followed the small trail to the remains of the trapper's house.

The house sat in a small clearing slightly nearer to the southern hill, and several large trees leaned out over the roof. Chickens were roosting in and around several large bushes that grew between the house and the small shed that was just off to the right. Their attention was caught by the house. The entire structure had been burnt to the ground. Several walls that hadn't burnt, had collapsed inwards, thereby adding to the devastation. The shed had also burnt down; probably embers had blown over and landed on the shed's roof.

The four travelers sat on their horses, almost in shock, looking out over what remained of Morley's house. Flare was slightly ashamed that his first thought was sorrow for his loss of a warm place to sleep.

“Do you think that Morley was here?” Arnok asked.

Flare glanced over in surprise. “I would imagine so; I mean the house didn't burn itself down.”