Once the light from the torches vanished in the darkness behind them, Jaikus called for a halt. “Hold up a second, Rene.”
Panting hard, Reneeke asked, “Why?”
“You took a beating back there and I want to make sure you’re all right.”
Reneeke didn’t reply. He merely found the trunk of an accommodating tree and leaned wearily against it. From the darkness he heard Jaikus rummaging around in his pack, then the familiar sound of striking flint. In a matter of moments, Jaikus had lit another of their torches.
“Now, let me take a look at you.”
Moving the torch close, he examined the various wounds of Reneeke. Deep furrows lined his side, neck, face and chest. Hardly an inch of him had escaped unscathed.
He then peered into Reneeke’s eyes. Not really knowing what to look for, he only knew that priests did it when examining the injured. “How do you feel?”
“Sore, exhausted.”
“Ready to collapse?”
Reneeke shrugged.
“Here.” Producing one of the two flasks containing healing elixir Lady Kate had given them, he held it forward. “Drink it all.”
Reneeke wasn’t about to argue. Pulling the stopper, he placed the flask to his lips and upended it. He held it there until every last drop had crossed his tongue and slid down his throat. Immediately, warm sensations spread outward as the potion entered his bloodstream and carried it throughout his body. Strength returned, aches diminished, and his head cleared.
“Better?” Jaikus asked.
“Oh man, yes,” he grinned. “I could get to like this.”
Wounds closed as the elixir worked its magic. By the time the potion had run its course, all but the very worst had healed over completely, some to the point where it looked as if there had never even been an injury. The deeper ones were still red and tender to the touch, but much improved over the bloody furrows of a moment before. Jaikus concluded that magic potions were a wonderful thing, and vowed to always carry a supply on all subsequent adventures.
“It doesn’t look as if there will be much scarring.”
“That’s a relief.”
Very faintly, the troll’s roar reached them from far away. “It must still be on the sandbar,” Reneeke commented.
“Maybe it can’t get off.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” Now reinvigorated by the healing properties of the potion, Reneeke pushed himself away from the tree. “Let’s get going before it fords the water.”
Jaik looked around the forest, confusion and uncertainty written across his face.
Reneeke pointed off toward a section of dark shadows. “Reakla’s that way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fairly sure.”
At that moment, the roar of the troll reached them again from a point almost directly opposite to that which Reneeke claimed Reakla laid. “Whether you are right or wrong, at least it will get us away from that.” Jaikus took two of Master Hymal’s packs to allow Reneeke less of a burden with but one. The odors coming from within filled the air with aromas neither had encountered before. The combination was less than appealing.
Jaikus took the lead, his torch pushing back the darkness as they hurried toward Reakla.
Less than ten minutes had passed before Jaikus’ left arm spasmed in pain. “Gods!” It had been throbbing ever since the glow-moth sank its barb into it. But now, the pain had suddenly spiked in its severity. The spasming caused the torch to slip from his grip.
“Damn,” he groaned, hugging his throbbing arm to his chest. “It hurts.”
Reneeke came to a stop and turned to his friend. Jaikus stood hunched over his arm, face twisted in agony.
“The glow-moth?”
Jaikus nodded. “Same spot. It hurts bad, Rene.” Perspiration dotted his forehead.
Reneeke picked the torch up from off the ground and had Jaikus hold out his arm. As he pulled the sleeve back, Jaikus’ arm began trembling.
“It’s getting worse.”
Red, inflamed and swollen, the site of the attack oozed a bloody discharge. A finger’s length of dark purple extended from where the discharge emerged, then made its way up the forearm toward the elbow. Another swelling, about an inch in length and the width of a pea, marked the end of the dark-purple discoloration. It looked almost as if… Reneeke gasped when the swollen area moved.
“What?”
Reneeke ignored the question as he brought the torch closer. Something moved beneath the skin. “Uh, Jaik.”
Turning his eyes upon the swollen area, Jaik felt a spike in pain that coincided with the movement of whatever was beneath his skin. There was something alive in his flesh! His voice took on a tinge of hysteria as he shouted, “Get it out!”
Knife appearing in his hand, Reneeke wrapped his arm around Jaikus’ injured one to immobilize it, then pinched the area to either side of the internal intruder.
Jaikus cried out at the pain Reneeke was causing. When his friend looked questioningly at him, Jaikus gritted his teeth. “Just do it.”
Reneeke nodded. Bringing the tip of his knife close, he made an incision. A pale, wormlike body writhed within the newly formed opening. Blood oozed forth as Reneeke dug the tip of the knife into the wound to draw forth the invader.
Jaikus moaned from the pain and clutched Reneeke’s shirt. He buried his face in his friend’s back as the knife dug deeper.
“Almost got it.”
Fine, hair-like cilia covered the parasite’s body, and wriggled under Reneeke’s ministrations. The head had burrowed deeper within the forearm’s muscle and thwarted every attempt at dislodging it. “Brace yourself,” he told Jaikus, then dug deeper.
The pain was excruciating. Jaikus reflexively tried to withdraw his arm, but Reneeke had too firm a grip. Deeper the knife point went, and just when Jaik thought the pain would force him to heave all over Reneeke’s back, it stopped.
“I got it.”
Reneeke let go of the arm and pointed to a small, white, worm-like thing writhing on the ground. Jaikus shuddered.
“I think it might be a glow-moth larva of some kind.” Reneeke then proceeded to grind the parasitic invader beneath the heel of his boot.
Jaikus’ arm was a mess. Blood covered his forearm. The hole Reneeke had been forced to create in order to expel the parasite continuously oozed more. “There’s another healing draught in my pack.”
“Right.” Reneeke quickly retrieved the flask and poured a small amount on the wound itself, just as he had observed Lady Kate do with Seward, then had Jaikus drink a quarter of what was left. Almost immediately, the wound cleared of blood, and began to knit together.
“Now I can see why Charka insisted that the mesh was so important.”
Reneeke nodded. “I still don’t understand why the glow-moths avoid it. Perhaps it’s made of something they don’t like.”
“Or it possesses a magical enchantment?”
“Perhaps.” Restoppering the flask, Reneeke replaced it within Jaikus’ pack. “Either way, I think we should keep them handy in case we encounter more.”
Both lads kept their mesh netting out, but had it rolled up and tucked beneath their arms. As Reneeke took the lead to resume their trek to Reakla, Jaikus fell in beside. He couldn’t help but shudder anew at the thought of how the larva had been wriggling around beneath his skin. He couldn’t wait to return to Reakla. How he could use a hefty mug of ale right about now.
Sunrise was imminent, and Charka paced impatiently before the Swamp Gate as he had for nearly the last hour. Nearby stood two Guild members who had volunteered to aid in the rescue of his two Springers. One was a bear of a man with twin axes strapped to his back, the other, an identical match except for the pair of swords in place of the axes. They were the twin brothers Khuodari, formidable fighters who had adventured with Charka a time or two. The promise of a night of debauchery upon their return had helped seal the deal.
Upon his Troupe’s return to Reakla, Charka’s first
order of business had been getting Seward to a Temple. Once satisfied that his man would not only live, but make a full recovery through the ministrations of the priests, he left Lady Kate to keep an eye on him while he set about to gather a few cronies who wouldn’t mind a quick jaunt into the Swamp to save a couple of lost pups. Now, he and the Khuodari brothers waited for the sun to strike the Gate, for it was law that the Gate would not open until that time.
Only two instances would permit the Gate to be opened. One, of course, would be the appearance of a returning band of adventurers. The other necessitated procuring a letter from the Town Council which would allow it to be opened. But since the eastern sky had already begun to brighten, Charka knew better than to try and round up that lazy band of miscreants. By the time he succeeded in corralling enough councilors to make a majority, it would be dawn and their aid would no longer be required.
A glance to the ramparts above the Gate revealed Master Hymal pacing about in similar impatience. He’d been there since shortly after their return. Charka knew the reagents in the packs his Springer’s had volunteered to recover constituted the bulk of his profits for the next few months. Without them, Master Hymal faced some lean times until the moon would once again rise in proper fullness to make another trip to Sythal worthwhile.
Charka caught sight of the Watch Leader, the man whose primary responsibility was to oversee the area in and around the Gate, and to ensure the safety of the populace the wall protected. Coming toward the man, he said with no small amount of impatience, “Surely you can open the Gate now. The sun is almost up.”
Watch Leader Reggie understood all too well Charka’s impatience. Having, in the last hour, suffered no less than three separate bartering attempts and one threat of mayhem, his patience had worn thin. “I’m through talking, Charka. When the sun hits the Gate, we’ll open it. Not one second before!”
“But my Springers might be dying out there!”
Reggie was unmoved. “Adventurers are always ‘dying out there.’ It goes with the territory. Besides, the law is the law.”
Charka felt like smashing in his face, but knew such an action would not get the Gate opened any sooner.
“Hey!” cried a lookout atop the wall. “I see something!”
Charka hollered, “My Springers?”
“Can’t tell for sure. But there is definitely movement in the deeper shadows along the fringe.”
A second later, Master Hymal yelled, “It’s them!”
“Open that demon-damned Gate!” Charka shouted.
Visual contact of approaching adventurers constituted one of the few instances whereby the Gate could be opened before the rising of the sun. “Open it up!” shouted Reggie. One of his men rushed to the gatehouse. Shortly thereafter, the sound of the massive, internal locking mechanism filled the courtyard as the man threw the lever releasing them.
“Looks like one is hurt,” Hymal shouted down to Charka. “The big one is leaning on the smaller.”
“Reneeke?”
“I think so.”
Just as the final “clank” signaled the Gate to be unsecured, a guard from atop the wall shouted, “Troll!”
In the early dawn, a time of day when night began rolling back in deference to the morn, two lads made their way through the Swamp. One had suffered grievous injury and leaned heavily upon the other.
The effects of the potion had worn off an hour ago, reminding Reneeke that the worst of the injuries inflicted by the troll still had a ways to go before it could be said they were healed. He suffered no great amount of pain, merely a dull ache and weakness. The healing properties of the potion had used a great deal of his energy to do its work. Reneeke had already consumed the last of the second healing draught, its revitalizing effect no more than a pleasant memory.
Legs wobbly, head pounding, and body aching all over; it was all he could do to merely put one foot in front of the other. He desperately needed a hot meal, warm bed, and a lengthy stretch of uninterrupted sleep.
As the sky began to brighten with the dawn, the protective wall of Reakla appeared through the trees.
“Look, Rene,” Jaikus said. “We’re almost back.”
Weary eyes turned toward the towering walls. Nothing had ever looked so good. “We did it, Jaik.”
“Yes, we did.”
Three packs filled with reagents were slung over their shoulders, Master Hymal should be pleased. Jaikus could think of little else than the reward promised by the apothecary. Reneeke, on the other hand, was simply satisfied by a job well done. That, and the fact they had returned with their lives intact. Although considering the amount of discomfort inflicting him, he amended that sentiment with “almost intact.”
Clearing the tree line, they started across the final expanse of open area toward the Gate. It remained closed, but hopefully that would change once the guards atop the wall became aware of their presence.
“Come on, Rene. Not much farther.”
With Reakla’s wall now an immediate goal, a small measure of strength returned to him. Although, not so much as to enable the putting aside of Jaikus’ aid. He still required a supportive shoulder to remain upright.
The snapping of a branch prompted Jaikus to glance over his shoulder to the trees from which they had recently emerged. His eyes widened when he saw the troll. “Gods!” He increased their pace dramatically, but such fear-induced acceleration across uneven terrain only caused his weakened partner to take a misstep. Reneeke hit the ground with a groan, taking Jaikus with him.
Jaikus immediately sprang back to his feet. Grabbing Reneeke’s arm, he strove to get him up. “Come on, Rene!”
Reneeke saw the troll coming and knew that though he might be able to regain his feet, he would never sustain an effective flight. Pulling his arm from Jaikus’ grip, he said, “Get out of here, Jaik. I’ll never make it.” He tried drawing his sword, but the maneuver was beyond him. His strength was gone.
“No!”
“Go. There’s no point in both of us dying.”
Jaikus reached out once more to try and pull him to his feet, but Reneeke batted his hand away. “Go!”
“I’ll not!”
How could he leave? To abandon not only the best friend he ever had, but his only friend? Reneeke had always been there for him. When Jaikus left to join the Guild, he agreed to come along. He didn’t have to. Reneeke would have been much happier on the farm. But he did it, because Jaikus was his friend.
Drawing his sword, Jaikus placed himself between the oncoming troll and the single most important person in his life.
“Jaik.”
Glancing back, he saw that Reneeke had managed to draw his sword halfway from the scabbard. “Here,” he said, straining to move the hilt closer. “Yours won’t do any good.”
Jaikus didn’t even hesitate. Transferring his sword to his left hand, he drew Reneeke’s with his right. Wielding the two swords helped to drive back his fear to a more manageable level. It gave him a feeling that all was not lost. Then, the troll attacked.
“What’s going on?”
As the Gate began to open, a familiar voice drew Charka’s attention. It was Viruloxi, a Guild magic user of some power. “I got two Springers in trouble.”
“A troll’s after ‘em,” added the sword-bearing Khuodari brother.
“Need some help?”
Moving toward the opening Gate, Charka asked, “Cost?”
“Say, a third?”
“Done.”
Racing through the opening, he broke into an all-out run. Flanked to either side by the Khuodari brothers, with Viruloxi following on their heels, they raced across the open grassland. Charka saw Jaikus bearing double blades as he faced off against the troll, willing to defend Reneeke with his life.
“Your Springer’s got grit,” said the sword-wielding brother on his right.
“I guess he does,” Charka replied, with just a touch of surprise tingeing his voice.
From his other side, the axe-wielding K
huodari brother said, “May we be in time.”
There was something odd about the troll. Jaikus couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it didn’t roar like before. Its mouth opened as if the troll wanted to, but naught more than a gurgling sound issued forth.
“Back!” he shouted in mimic of Reneeke’s earlier battle with the mossback. Much to his surprise, his voice was strong and sure. A remarkable feat considering that inside he was a quivering mass of nerves.
Charka’s words came back to him in the fleeting moments before the troll’s attack
…Keep your wrist in line with your elbow and the blade. Think of the area from your shoulder to the tip of your blade as one.
The sword moved into proper position.
I’m trying!
A dead man tries, an Adventurer does. Or don’t you want to be an Adventurer? What if your buddy’s life depended on you being able to take out your opponent? Is he going to want you to try and help him? Or would he want you to help him?
Jaikus was through with trying. I am an Adventurer! Firming his resolve, he braced for the attack.
The troll launched itself forward.
Bringing up Reneeke’s sword, he struck with all his might. Before the blade could connect, the troll struck it aside with a mighty swipe.
Snap!
His wrist had twisted slightly out of position, and just as Charka had prophesized, the blow snapped the bone. Reneeke’s sword, the one weapon with which Jaikus could have dealt damage to the troll, slipped from his non-responsive fingers.
An explosion of pain erupted from his broken wrist, followed a second later by even worse as talons ripped into him.
He tried bringing his other sword into play as the troll plowed another set of bloody furrows across his upper body, but it merely bounced off the beast’s hide. His legs gave way, dropping him to the ground as deadly talons again penetrated his flesh.
Time seemed to slow as he gazed at talons stained with blood, his blood, that were being drawn back to rip into him again. Unable to look away, he braced himself for what he knew would be his end.
Thunk!
An axe appeared as if by magic to embed itself in the beast’s skull. A split-second later, the crackle of electricity preceded the blinding explosion of a lightning bolt. The troll’s blow never fell.
As his eyes recovered from the flash, Jaikus saw the charred and blackened section of the troll’s chest. Through vision growing ever more obscured, Jaikus watched the troll yank the axe from its head and stepped forward to continue the attack, only to be hit by another bolt. The lightning strike knocked it from its feet and sent it reeling backward.
The last thing Jaikus saw before his vision failed completely, were Webs of Binding appearing to encase the troll from the neck down.
“See to the troll!”
Somewhere on the edge of consciousness, he heard Charka’s voice.
“Jaik! Come on, lad!”
His mouth was forced open and a sweet liquid passed between his lips.
“We’re too far from town. He’s not going to…”
The last thing he knew before slipping away into oblivion, was being raised from the ground by many hands.
Chapter 16