“Where is Lepolis?” Essdra inquired of the assembled elves.
“This soldier felled him over there.” Lyrak tipped his head in the other elf’s direction.
“Bring him here.” Essdra’s command was promptly obeyed and a couple elves helped the barely sensible elf into the clearing.
“How did a human manage this?” Essdra asked Lyrak who flushed a shade of red to the tips of his ears.
“He was fast. Extremely fast. It was all both Lepolis and I could do to hold him off before he weakened. When he knocked Lepolis out, I thought he was going to finish me off as well. I have never seen a human move as fast as he did.” Lyrak was still flushed as he explained. Essdra pulled back the slashed cloth and revealed the armor beneath. White frost contrasted with the red blood stain. However it seemed that the blood flow had been stanched by the mysterious freezing of the wound.
“It’s not so surprising when you consider that he has a soul forged blade. My guess is that it is Skeln’den'hal all things considered. If that is the case then this must be the Asgare. Strange that he should be here after so many years of silence.” Essdra stepped back and pinched her chin as she thought.
“He was with a youth. The lad escaped while we were fighting him. If he is the Asgare then that explains a lot.” Lepolis’ head had cleared enough for him to follow the conversation. A purple bruise was already forming where the bow had connected with his cheekbone.
“Hmm. Indeed it does. We should take him to the city. Skeln’den’hal would not protect someone unworthy.” Essdra still observed Urake’s supine form thoughtfully.
“What about the sword?” Lyrak still held his sword at the ready. Essdra glanced over and nodded.
“Skeln’den’hal, soul forging of Eld’or, hear me. We will not harm your bearer.” Essdra cautiously placed a gloved hand on the silver sword’s hilt. When no thunderclap struck her she carefully pulled the sword out of Urake’s grip. Looking at it closer she was able to see the bluish tint to the metal and the dwarven engraving that declared this blade to be the mighty Skeln’den’hal. Wrapping it in her cloak she gave the order to move out.
The elves traveled into the night in the direction of the Elder Forest carrying their captive. Lyrak assisted the wounded Lepolis and followed the elves that carried Urake. Suspended as he was on a cloak tied to two poles he was bound hand and foot but hadn’t awakened yet. The elves marched single file for hours before Essdra called a halt.
“We are being followed.” Essdra closed her eyes and focused.
“How? We have been covering out trail and haven’t sensed anyone other than...” Lepolis paused and stared at Urake’s litter.
“I can hardly sense him either. Someone is out there though.” Lyrak peered off into the dark foliage.
“Shall we eliminate them?” Lepolis straightened up.
“We only know that something is out there following us. Lepolis stays here. Lyrak take three rangers with you and capture whoever it is if possible. I want to know how they are following us.” Essdra quickly gave the orders. Lyrak pointed to his choices and disappeared back down the trail. Essdra waited patiently for a couple minutes before Lyrak reappeared with a struggling young human in tow.
“Is that all there were?” Essdra looked the lad over critically.
“He almost got away as it was. On top of that he doesn’t even have one of those blocking helms on.” Lyrak shoved the lad to the ground at Essdra’s feet.
“Who are you?” Essdra scowled down at Emeck.
“Let me go!” Emeck tried bolting but was easily apprehended by one of the surrounding rangers.
“Answer me human! Who are you?”
“No one.” Emeck struggled futilely against the ranger.
“Then we will have to do this the hard way.” Essdra removed her gloves and had the ranger hold Emeck still. Placing the tips of her fingers on his temples she connected her mind and Emeck’s. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body shook with convulsions as he resisted the invasion. The first thing she sensed was his name and fear. After that she felt his mind drawing in on itself. Pushing harder she tried to pry more information free. Suddenly everything became silent. Realizing that she was losing the feeling in her extremities Essdra broke the connection. Already her hands and legs were numb. Sinking to her knees she gasped for breath. It took conscious effort to maintain consciousness. After she had managed to steady her breathing she realized that a ranger was calling her name.
“I'm fine.” Essdra’s legs were still numb but they responded to her commands well enough to stand.
“He is dead.” Lyrak was stooped over Emeck’s motionless body.
“He almost took me with him. His name is Emeck and he was trying to save his friend. He was following us by himself.” Essdra tried rubbing feeling back into her fingers.
“How was he able to follow us?” Lepolis questioned as he stood looking down at the lad.
“He is gifted. Rather talented to say the least. It is a pity he killed himself. Lured me in then simply stopped living. I have never heard of anyone doing that. Bring his body with us. I'm sure command will want to know about what he did.” Essdra staggered a little as she walked but feeling had almost entirely returned. Her head on the other hand felt like someone had hit it with a warhammer. She gave up her position at the lead of the line and assigned someone whose senses weren’t impaired.
Essdra took up a new position right behind the litters carrying the dead human and the senseless Asgare. She had a lot to think about. One thing was why the Asgare had returned from whatever place he had been hiding in. Another thing was how close she had been to death. It was quite the quandary as to why Emeck would have killed himself rather than submit himself to the interrogation. She was puzzling over what he must have felt was worth dying to hide when she sensed a flash of consciousness. She then saw the litter carrying the body begin thrashing. The startled rangers dropped their poles and Emeck staggered out of the tangled cloak. Essdra smashed the flat of her blade down on the lad’s head rendering him senseless as soon as she recovered from her surprise.
“Tie him hand and foot and whatever you do, don’t try getting in his head.” Her orders were promptly obeyed and the procession moved on again.
*****
Urake felt the pain first. It was always the first sense that returned with consciousness. His side and shoulder were on fire. Needled by the sensation he was forced to leave the comfortable darkness and return to the light. A light headed sensation with his first movement threatened to send him back into the darkness. When the sensation of spinning left he was able to open his eyes and make out the double form of an elf holding swords defensively. A shake of his head didn’t dispel the duplication and it wasn’t until one moved independently of the other that he realized that there were indeed two elves on the other side of the bars. A few minutes later a lady elf appeared and looked him over.
“Asgare?”
“I have been called that in the past. Might I know your name?” Urake rubbed his temples in an effort to bring clarity to his thoughts and recollections. He remembered the fight and then feeling weak but had not expected to wake.
“Essdra. Why were you fighting against us?”
“If you ask anyone that was present they should tell you that I was only trying to escape with my life. The only elves that I fought were trying to deprive me of that life. If you are wanting to know why I'm in the army, it was because I had been drafted involuntarily and hadn’t escaped yet.” Urake squinted as he tried to get a better look at Essdra.
“Your life? I seem to remember you trying to clear a path for a youth to escape.” Essdra moved so the light was directly behind her head rendering Urake’s attempt at identifying her useless.
“So he got away?” Urake sounded relieved.
“Yes and no. He escaped the ambush but then he followed us into the Elder Forest. He almost killed me when I tried interrogating him.” Essdra sounded like she held a grudge.
&
nbsp; “He is not that physically fit.” Urake had a hard time picturing Emeck as being able to pose a threat to an elf.
“No! I was in his mind and he died. Then he came back to life.” Essdra stopped herself.
“Oh. That. He did that once before. I had wondered why that tracker hadn’t come after me again.”
“Emeck hasn’t been cooperating with us.” Essdra stepped out of the light and Urake caught a glimpse of her face.
“He’s alive then.” Urake’s relief was evident in his voice.
“There are... things that need understood before we decide what to do with you both.”
“I have no quarrel with the elves. I was only trying to find my son.” Urake had not much left to lose.
“Emeck is your son?” Essdra raised an eyebrow.
“No, he has been helping me in my search. By the way, what happened to my sword?” Urake saw Essdra flinch.
“Skeln’den’hal hasn’t been cooperating either.” Essdra scowled and walked away leaving Urake to ponder his predicament.
Emeck on the other hand was pacing his cell in frustration. He felt strange being surrounded by people who had the ability to hide their minds. He was able to sense Urake briefly but then even that was gone. He was frustrated being so helpless. None of the elves that he tried talking to responded. In fact they even seemed afraid of him for some reason. It wasn’t until the woman that had tried getting into his mind on the trail appeared.
“How did you come back from the dead?” Essdra inquired after looking the agitated lad over for a minute.
“I wasn’t dead.” Emeck laughed.
“I beg to differ. You had no pulse and didn’t breathe for a good ten minutes.”
“I don’t know how it happens.” Emeck really didn’t.
“You almost killed me.” Essdra snarled as she wheeled and walked away.
“Then stay out of my head.” Emeck muttered as he watched the elf walk away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cero had spent the last few weeks moving from fishing community to fishing community assisting where he could. Most of the work he picked up was that of being an extra hand during a fishing trip or mending a net that had been caught on a rock during a haul. The work was backbreaking but his young body was adapted to exercise and it kept him busy. The last few days had been spent mending nets but today Cero had gotten a job helping a fisherman whose son was recovering from a broken leg.
The sun was out bright and warm and the sea was a calm slow series of swells. Cero had been pleasantly surprised to discover that he was virtually immune to seasickness. It comes in handy when you were subjected to a day on a choppy sea. Today wasn’t that bad. They had already managed to catch their fill of fish for the day so they were waiting for the afternoon inland breeze to pick up and save them the effort of rowing back to shore. The combination of the fisherman’s snoring, soft rocking of the boat and the warm sun was enough to lull anyone to sleep.
Cero had fallen asleep before too long. Suddenly he got the eerie sensation that he was being watched. Jerking upright he saw that the fisherman was still sleeping. There wasn’t anyone else around to be watching. Cero had felt the sensation before so he didn’t dismiss it.
Unable to sleep any longer he moved to the prow of the boat and stared down into the rippling blue depths. Occasionally he could see the distorted shapes of fish swimming below. The afternoon drifted endlessly on until the breeze began to pick up. The water began developing a chop and the fisherman awoke. Together they lifted the simple canvas sail and began the landward trip.
The sandy shoreline approached at a quick rate as the breeze increased in strength. Using their forward momentum the fisherman ran the flat bottomed boat up on the sand. As full of fish as it was, it didn’t get very far. Once it had been unloaded it would be easy to move up above the surf line. Cero promptly began the chore of unloading the boat. The larger fish were moved to the bigger baskets and the smaller seconds were placed in the baskets marked for drying. The rest were tossed back to the surf where the seagulls seized them gleefully in the growing breakers. Looking up at the sky he saw that a number of clouds were building.
Cero had just finished filling the last basket when a chill ran up his spine. Glancing up and down the beach he caught sight of a couple men in black robes questioning the fisherman he had spent the day with. The sensation of being watched again asserted itself. Picking up the basket of fish Cero ducked behind a pile of nets. Working from pile to pile he tried to keep out of sight. This tactic worked right up to the point when Cero ran right into one of the black robed people while he was looking over his shoulder. Fish flew all over everyone and curses filled the air. Cero took the opportunity to run. Glancing over his shoulder he was relieved to see that the man was more concerned with his robes. Just at that moment the other two men came around the corner and started yelling.
All three strangers then took off running in his direction. Cero took that as an encouragement to accelerate to top speed. He made for the woods behind the village as fast as he could run. Several more men in black joined the chase at the edge of the village. Cero didn’t need the added encouragement. He had almost reached the edge of the woods when a blast of heat exploded on his left. The surprise caused Cero to stumble. Looking back over his shoulder he saw a smoldering patch of soil. The dozen black robed men were not far behind.
Ignoring their shouting he charged onward into the trees. The forest here on this side of the Garoche was different than that of the western side. This side was subjected to copious amounts of rain year round. The trees were larger and moss covered. Green vegetation was more prevalent than grass. Thorny brush, giant ferns and berry plants were scattered in the vines and dogwood. Worse yet a light rain was starting to filter out of the growing clouds.
Diving into a tunnel he felt the brush tearing at his thin shirt. He had not dressed for a trip into the woods and the thin shirt had been more than sufficient for a day on the sea but not near thick enough to fend off the sharp foliage. The tunnel opened through the brush into a path frequented by the forest denizens. The pursuers cursed as they were forced into the brush that Cero had disappeared into.
Running for all he was worth Cero wasn’t prepared for the creek that blocked the trail. His foot tangled in a patch of tall grass and he fell face first into the water. Struggling to escape he pulled himself out on the other side. Spitting out a mouthful of sand he heard them slashing their way through the brush. Forging onward Cero felt another wave of heat. This time it was so close he could smell scorched cloth but surprisingly nothing felt burned.
A moment later and the forest closed behind him. The men in black could still be heard but they were slowed by the creek more than Cero had. He couldn’t think of any way to escape other than to keep going. When his lungs were burning and legs felt too shaky to move predictably he fell to the ground and gasped for air. No longer could the strangers be heard but he had left a trail wide enough for a blind man to follow.
After catching his breath he decided to hide his trail. The forest had changed from the rainforest to a drier climate. Moss still grew everywhere but the damp smell wasn’t as permeating. The trees were taller and straighter and the brush less dense. When he started moving again he was more careful about the signs that were left behind. He had made probably a mile when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. The sensation of being watched made his skin crawl. Realizing that his pursuers were probably gifted in some way. This meant that hiding his trail was useless. What was important now was putting as much distance between himself and the black robed men as possible. Hopefully the rain would slow down the pursuers.
Evening made the task of traveling through the forest considerably more dangerous. With the darkness the sensation of being watched became even more persistent. The brush tore at his face and arms mercilessly. One of the moons was high enough to shed a little light through the drizzling clouds. What little light was available was quickly absorbed by the rain soak
ed vegetation. A little glimmer off of a wet leave here and a flicker of light through hole in the canopy made navigation difficult in the extremes but not impossible.
Cero stopped short and strained his eyes at the yawning darkness ahead of him. He could make out the trees ahead but there was nothing in between. A sound behind him caused his senses to sharpen. Searching the woods he thought he could see flickers of torchlight and the sounds of brush being stomped through. Picking the direction furthest away from the sounds and light Cero began skirting the dark pit. Unfortunately it seemed to be stretching on forever. The jagged edge of the crack in the earth on one side and a wall of vegetation on the other he tried to find a way over. He was elated to discover that his side suddenly veered towards the opposite side after a distance had been traversed. Just then he heard more brush snapping and curses directed at the falling rain. Inching onwards in the dark Cero discovered that the crack had played him false. This was not a crossing but a jagged peninsula. As he turned around he saw the light of a couple torches appear out of the trees at the base of the peninsula.
Cero knew that there was nowhere to go. The only option left was to catch them by surprise. Standing up he took a step back in preparation for a surprise charge at the cloaked men. Unfortunately the rock he had stepped on was not as solid as it should have been. The wet slippery rock slide sideways and Cero fell backwards. There was nothing to catch him but thin air.
“Did you hear something?” One black robed initiate asked.
“Probably just a rock shifting because of the rain. He has to be here somewhere.” The other initiate responded.
“He has to be. There isn’t anywhere else to go without being caught by the mountain crack. We will find him eventually. Hopefully sooner than later. I just want to get out of this rain.”
*****
“Taric, you moron. Granite’s Bane is going to kill you when he finds out that you’ve been making eyes at his daughter.” Roild was not the usual Garoche Dwarf. He was taller than most but this rarely worked out to his advantage. The dented helm on his head was a testament to this frequent troubles. Taric on the other hand was shorter than most and had the scars and bruises as record of his frequent altercations. It was not uncommon for a brisk fist fight to break out over perceived slights concerning his stature.