— Chapter Three —
Dead Weight
Iadrawyn gave herself a mental shake, returning her attention to the unconscious elf. She had to move him to shelter, but he was he was a full-grown male, too heavy for her to carry. She couldn’t ask anyone from her tribe for help. They would either imprison him as a possible spy, or leave him to die on the beach. Although Eruvalion would probably be delighted to help her if she asked, she didn’t trust him to keep a secret. He told his meddlesome mother everything. No, it was up to Iadrawyn to take care of the stranger.
It was a strange feeling. The youngest of three children, she had never been responsible for anyone else’s welfare. The other elves didn’t even trust her to watch their children due to her ‘eccentric’ ways. Although younglings seemed to like her when she spoke with them, their scowling parents would soon arrive—warned by some other well-meaning elf, no doubt—shooing them away from her with hollow excuses.
It hurt to be so different from her own kind that they didn’t trust her. They certainly wouldn’t trust her opinion in this particular instance. Iadrawyn was alone. Then again, she always was.
Swallowing her self-pity, she focused on the problem and realized there was someone she could rely on for help. She jogged back up the hill to the edge of the wood and gave a long, trilling whistle. Satisfied, she began gathering some deadfall from the forest floor. A Wood Elf never cut from a living tree unless there was great need. She carried her bundle back down to the beach, laying it in a pile near the unconscious elf.
Grabbing him under his arms, she dug her boots into the sand and dragged him out of the reach of the waves. Even moving his dead weight that short distance was difficult. Once he was clear of the water, Iadrawyn took off her pack and pulled out a blanket, wrapping it around him. She chafed his blue-tinged arms for good measure. Returning to her pack, she also retrieved some leather thongs and a coil of rope. She was glad she was in the habit of always carrying a full pack, in case the urge to run off into the woods struck her.
She laid out the lengths of wood on the beach in a rectangular framework, creating the skeleton of a sledge. She used the thongs to bind the wood together. Once this was done, she tested the strength of her creation. It would hold.
Returning to the elf, she hoisted him once more, dragging him onto the sledge. Once she was satisfied with his position, she used the rope to bind him in place.
Iadrawyn sat back on her heels to look toward the forest. Would her summons be answered? She thought so, but she wasn’t sure. When she glimpsed a shadow of movement among the trees, she walked back up the hill to investigate.
A doe’s head nosed out from between the branches to look up at her with liquid brown eyes. Iadrawyn sighed with relief, reaching out to stroke the creature’s neck. She was tan with white markings like any other of her kind, except for one large, white marking on her left flank. Although Iadrawyn was friendly with many creatures of the forest, this bond was special. Years ago, she had stumbled across the doe’s mother giving birth, but her fawn had turned in the womb. If Iadrawyn hadn’t intervened, both mother and child would have died. She had managed to save them both. The mother was a shy beast Iadrawyn only saw occasionally in her wanderings, but the fawn had become attached to her elven midwife, and still joined Iadrawyn sometimes on her walks even now that she was full grown. She had come in response to Iadrawyn’s whistle.
After greeting the doe, Iadrawyn took a step beyond the trees and beckoned for her to follow. The doe looked around with curiosity. Iadrawyn beckoned once more. The creature looked back at her. Brown eyes full of trust, she took a small step forward. Iadrawyn continued to encourage her until the doe was completely out from the shadow of the forest. The beast’s delicate legs were twitching with nervousness. She, too, had never been out from under the shadow of the trees.
Once the doe was completely out in the open, Iadrawyn put a hand on the creature’s shoulder and walked beside her toward the beach. Every so often the doe would balk in fear and Iadrawyn would have to soothe her before encouraging her to go on. When they finally arrived at the stranded elf’s limp form, the doe lowered her head to give him a cursory sniff before looking back up to Iadrawyn.
Iadrawyn stroked her flank in reassurance and reached down to grab the rope harness she had made to pull the sledge. The doe stood completely still as Iadrawyn fastened it to her, watching in curiosity, her fears forgotten. Once Iadrawyn was satisfied the rope would hold, she coaxed the doe forward toward the forest. The doe took a tentative step, looking back over her shoulder to watch the sledge drag behind her. With Iadrawyn’s encouragement, the doe continued to pull her burden all the way up the hill to the edge of the forest. At one point, Iadrawyn had to help pull due to the incline, but they made it.
Iadrawyn grabbed a fallen branch from a pine tree, shaking it to remove any dead needles. Once she was satisfied no more would fall off, she went back down to the beach where she had met the Sea Folk and worked her way backward up the hill, using the branch as a broom to sweep away their trail.
Now that they had cleared the first obstacle of getting the elf away from the beach, they had to get him to safety. Iadrawyn had several places hidden throughout the forest where she had created shelters for when she didn’t want to be found. Some were even up among the bare branches of the trees. Since she couldn’t possibly carry the limp body of the elf, none of those shelters would do. She needed something close by, far from the village and patrols of the guard…
Iadrawyn knew the perfect place. She went ahead of the doe, leading her onward. She had to stop every so often to sweep out their tracks. The trusting creature followed her without any further hesitation, quickly growing accustomed to her strange burden. Iadrawyn kept alert for any sounds or signs of being followed.
Although they were traveling in a different direction from where Eruvalion had found her, he was relentless in his efforts to follow her everywhere she went. If he stumbled across her now, she didn’t know what she would do. There was also the risk of drakhalu wandering about, since one was in the village. The thought of coming across one of them when she was vulnerable and alone terrified her. Even though the air was crisp, Iadrawyn’s nerves soon had her in a cold sweat.
When they finally reached their destination, Iadrawyn threw her arms around the doe’s neck in gratitude and relief. She would never have been able to get the wounded elf this far by herself. The doe nuzzled her face with her wet nose. Iadrawyn pulled away with reluctance to investigate the security of her hiding place.
It was an enormous, wayward pine, thick with needles. Its long branches reached all the way to the ground. Iadrawyn circled it on light feet, not even leaving an impression in the snow. Her knife drawn, she checked for any tracks leading to or from her shelter. There were none. Crouching, she pulled one of the bottom branches aside and crept under the tree’s skirt.
It was pitch black underneath. Iadrawyn stood completely still for several moments, waiting for her eyes to adjust and listening for signs of movement. Her shelter was empty.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached into her pack for some flint. She needed to warm the wounded elf. The tree would hide the light of her fire. Iadrawyn hoped she was too far from the village for anyone to notice or investigate any resulting smoke.
She struck the flint with her knife over a pile of tinder she always left prepared. A spark leaped onto the wood and flared to life. The smoke was drawn up through the giant tree’s branches. It was a perfect natural tent. She went back out to retrieve her charge.
The doe was still waiting patiently. Iadrawyn untied the sledge while stroking her with words of thanks. Once the sledge was free, Iadrawyn gave the beast a light slap on the rump. The doe startled and ran a few steps before looking back. Iadrawyn smiled and gestured for her to leave. The doe sprang off into the darkness.
Bending over to grasp the frame of the sledge, Iadrawyn dragged it under the shelter of the pine. She untied the rope binding the elf and
lay him down as gently as she could near the fire on a bed of dried pine needles. She tucked the blanket around him once more. He still gave no sign of life, save for his shallow breathing. She left him only to wipe out the last of their tracks around the base of the tree before returning.
Iadrawyn sat across the fire from her charge, lost in thought. She could treat his wounds and nurse him, but he was in bad shape. He might never wake up. If she had not been near the beach when the Sea Folk had dragged him to shore, he would be dead for certain. Iadrawyn knew she had done the right thing, but she craved the sense of certainty she had felt earlier.
Was she really meant to do this? This question was immediately followed by another she hadn’t even considered.
What would she do if he woke up?