In Sylvan Shadows

by R. A. Salvatore

  Elbereth took up the lead, pausing often to study new tracks, and Danica fell into line at the rear of the party, watching in all directions.

  They came back into the tree line and grew even more cautious Shadows loomed all around them, possible hiding spots for monsters setting an ambush. They crossed in and out of the gloom, moving under thick trees one moment and coming suddenly into the open sunlight the next as the trail wound across wide stones.

  Temmerisa’s thousand bells tinkled suddenly with the steed’s nervous movement. Elbereth went on his guard, crouching low and looking all around. He moved across the trail, slipped into concealment amid a tumble of boulders, and peered down at the mountainsides below.

  Danica and Cadderly joined him, but Rufo stayed back with the horses, seeming ready to spring upon his roan mount in an instant and fly away.

  “The trail doubles back on itself down below,” the elf explained in a whisper. His observations were evident to Cadderly and Danica, for the trees and brush were not thick below them and the looping road was clearly visible. Elbereth seemed intent on one huge maple tree, its thick branches overhanging the road.

  “There!” Danica whispered, pointing to the very same tree. “On the lowest branch above the road.”

  Elbereth nodded gravely, and Danica blew a quiet whistle.

  Cadderly watched them in confusion. He, too, peered intently at the tree, but all he saw were thick, overlapping leaves.

  “The limb bends under their weight,” Elbereth remarked.

  “Whose weight?” Cadderly had to ask.

  Elbereth scowled, but Danica took pity on Cadderly and continued to point out what she had noticed until he at last nodded in recognition. Several dark forms crouched together on that branch, high above the road.

  “Orcs?” Danica asked.

  “Too big for orcs,” reasoned Elbereth. “Orogs.”

  Danica’s delicate features crinkled with confusion.

  “Orogs are kin to orcs,” cut in Cadderly, beating the elf to the explanation. Orogs were uncommon, but Cadderly had read about them in books. “Larger and stronger than their pig-faced cousins. It is believed that they originated—”

  “What do you think they’re waiting for?” Danica interrupted before Cadderly could make a complete fool of himself.

  “Us,” Elbereth said. “They have heard our horses, perhaps seen us on the open expanses of the higher trails.”

  “Is there another way around?” Cadderly knew the question sounded ridiculous even as he asked it. Danica, and especially Elbereth, had no intention of going around the monsters.

  Elbereth considered the terrain straight from his position. “If I pick my way down the mountainside while you continue along the trail,” he reasoned, “I may be able to take a few of them down with my bow.” The elf prince nodded in affirmation of his own plan. “Come then,” he said, “we must get the horses moving again before the orogs grow suspicious.”

  Danica turned and started back to Rufo, but Cadderly was struck with an idea. “Let me go,” he offered, a smile widening across his face.

  Elbereth regarded him curiously, and even more so when Cadderly took out his tiny crossbow.

  “You believe you can inflict more damage with that than I with my longbow?” the elf prince asked.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to fight them on the ground?” Cadderly replied, grinning Danica’s way. Elbereth, too, looked to the woman, and she nodded and smiled, trusting in Cadderly and knowing that playing a role in the fight was important to the young scholar.

  “Go along the trail,” Cadderly told them. “I shall meet you at the tree.”

  Elbereth, still not convinced, turned back to study the young scholar. “Your hat and cape,” the elf said, holding out his hands.

  Cadderly’s pause displayed his confusion.

  “Blue is not a forest color,” Elbereth explained. “It shows in the daylight as clearly as a fire in the dark of night. We will be fortunate if the orogs have not already spotted you.”

  “They haven’t,” Danica insisted, realizing that Elbereth had made that last statement only to belittle Cadderly.

  The scholar untied his short cape and handed it and the hat to Elbereth. “I’ll see you at the tree,” he said finally, trying to appear confident.

  His firm jaw weakened as soon as the others moved out of sight. What had he gotten himself into? Even if he managed to get down the steep slope without breaking his neck and causing enough noise for all the orogs in the Snowflake Mountains to hear, what would he do if they noticed him? What defense could Cadderly present against even a single opponent?

  He shook the dark thoughts away and started down, having no other choice, he believed, if he wished to hold any honor at all in Danica’s almond eyes. He stumbled and tripped, stubbed his toes a dozen times, and set several stones skipping down, but somehow managed to get level with the giant maple apparently without disturbing the ambush-intent monsters. He crawled into a crevice between two sharp-edged rocks a short distance from the side of the trail. He could see the orogs clearly then; nearly a dozen crouched side by side on the low branch. They held nets, spears, and crude swords, and it wasn’t difficult for Cadderly to discern their tactics.

  The monsters went quiet. At first, Cadderly feared he had been discovered, but he soon realized that the orogs continued looking up the trail. He knew that his friends would arrive soon.

  He loaded the crossbow, taking care to move the small crank slowly and smoothly so that it wouldn’t make any noise. Then he leveled the weapon—but where to shoot? He could probably knock an orog out of the tree, maybe even kill one if his aim or his luck was good enough. His earlier boasts seemed so foolish now, with the danger so very close and the responsibility fully on his shoulders.

  He had to go with his original plan. Elbereth and Danica were counting on him to get the monsters out of the tree. He took aim, not at any of the monsters, but at where the thick branch joined the trunk. It was not a difficult shot with the accurate crossbow, but would the explosive suffice? Cadderly took out a second dart, just in case.

  The orogs shifted nervously; Cadderly could hear the plodding hoofbeats down the trail.

  “Deneir be with me,” the young scholar mumbled, and he squeezed the crossbow’s trigger. The dart floated in, struck the branch, and collapsed on the vial, and the ensuing explosion shook the tree violently. Orogs grabbed on—one tumbled from the branch—and Cadderly, to his relief, heard a loud cracking noise. The young scholar sent another dart looping in.

  The branch blew apart. An orog screamed as its ankle got hooked on the jagged break, the skin tearing off the side of its leg as it fell.

  Danica and Elbereth, upon their horses, were barely thirty feet from the tree when the orogs tumbled out. Elbereth, concerned, glanced sidelong at the young woman, for only one of the monsters seemed injured and the others were well armed.

  “There are only ten of them!” Danica cried, reaching down to pull a crystalline-bladed dagger from a boot sheath. She laughed wildly and spurred her horse ahead. Temmerisa, bearing the elf, charged right behind.

  Danica came in hard and fast on the closest three monsters. Just before she reached them, she rolled off the side of her horse, caught a handhold on the saddle’s cinch, and pulled herself under the horse, straight through the beast’s legs. The horse blasted through the stunned orogs, all of them expecting Danica on the wrong side.

  Danica hit the ground running, used her momentum to leap into a spin, and connected on the closest orog with a circle kick that snapped the creature’s neck and sent it tumbling away.

  Her wrist flicked as soon as she got her bearings, launching the dagger point-over-hilt. It spun several times, a glittering sliver in the sunlight, before burying itself hilt-deep in the second orog’s face.

  The third monster heaved its spear and drew out a crude sword. Its aim had been perfect, but Danica was too quick to be taken by such a clumsy weapon. She sidestepped and threw out a forea
rm parry that sent the spear flying harmlessly wide.

  The orog came in unconcerned, and Danica nearly laughed at how defenseless she must have appeared to the six-and-a-half-foot, two-hundred-pound monster. Slender and pretty, she barely topped five feet, with unkempt locks flying wildly about her shoulders and eyes that sparkled, to the unknowing observer, with childish innocence.

  Blood quickly replaced drool on the orog’s hungry lips. It stepped in and reached for Danica with its free hand. She caught it with a lightning-quick jab that took out two of its front teeth. Danica jumped back, bouncing on the balls of her feet and feeling good about the beginning of the battle. It had taken just a few heartbeats, but two monsters lay dead or dying and the third stood teetering and trying to shake the stars out of its vision.

  Elbereth’s charge was even more straightforward and more brutal. He led with a single bow shot, catching a monster in the shoulder. Then, drawing his sword and slipping his arm through the leather straps of his shield, the elf trusted in his disciplined steed and crashed right into the main group of orogs. His magical blade glowed with a bluish flame as he hacked at the monstrous throng. He took several quick hits from the orogs’ crude weapons, but his fine shield and finer armor deflected the blows.

  More deadly were Elbereth’s thrusts. The unarmored orogs simply couldn’t afford to swap blows with the elf. The closest monster, the one with the arrow in its shoulder, learned that well when Elbereth responded to its spear thrust by lopping off its head.

  Temmerisa reared and danced about, keeping in perfect balance and harmony with the elf prince. One orog slipped behind the shining white horse, its spear held high for a throw that would have taken Elbereth squarely in the back. Temmerisa kicked with both hind feet, connecting on the orog’s chest and launching it many yards away. The broken monster crumpled to the ground, gasping futilely with lungs that had collapsed.

  Elbereth’s battle would have been a rout then, for only two monsters remained—and one of those could barely stand, leaning against the huge tree with one of its legs torn apart—but when the limb had broken, a single orog had managed to keep a handhold in the tree. Grasping a net in its free hand, the monster swung out on the higher branch and timed its leap perfectly, coming down on the slender elf’s back and bearing Elbereth to the ground under it—and under the net.

  A deceptively swift sword cut forced Danica to hop and throw her head backward. She knew that a monster as powerful as an orog could not be taken lightly, but she found herself distracted, for off to the side, Elbereth had gone down and Kierkan Rufo had not yet entered the fray. Just as unnerving to the young woman, two of the orogs had fled toward Cadderly.

  Another slice made Danica drop almost to the ground, and a third sent her rolling to the side. The orog, confident again, advanced steadily.

  It swung again, but Danica, instead of backing away, charged straight ahead. She caught the orog’s sword hand in her own and stepped toward it, hooking her free forearm so forcefully around the orog’s extended arm that she heard the monster’s elbow snap. Fierce Danica barely gave the monster time to cry in pain. Still holding fast to its sword hand, she whipped her other arm back, free of the monster’s, and threw her elbow up and out, slamming the creature in the nose.

  Danica’s elbow came back tight to her side and her backhand went snapping out, scoring another solid hit. When the arm recoiled, still before the orog had time to react, Danica straightened her hand tightly and chopped across the orog’s throat.

  She dipped under the monster’s trapped arm. Her grip turned the muscled limb half a circuit as she passed under it, and Danica turned to face the creature.

  The weakened orog reached for her, but Danica paid the lame attempt no heed. Her foot shot up under the orog’s reach and slammed the monster in the chin, then again, and a third time, in rapid succession.

  “Cadderly,” the monk breathed, looking down the trail. The two fleeing monsters must have been close to her beloved.

  Cadderly, acting on pure instinct, didn’t hesitate to consider the moral consequences in the least as the first orog bore down on him, pointedly shifting its course when it noticed him lying between the stones.

  An exploding dart abruptly halted its charge.

  The monster’s surprised roar came out as a wheeze, for the dart had put a hole cleanly through one lung. Stubbornly the monster came on, and Cadderly shot it again, in the belly.

  The orog doubled over, growling in agony.

  “Die, damn you,” Cadderly moaned when it straightened and came on again. His third shot blew off the top of the orog’s head.

  Cadderly himself was having trouble finding his breath, and his revulsion turned to stark horror when he looked up to see the second orog towering over him, straddling the stones with its very big sword angled to split Cadderly in half. There was no time for another dart, the young scholar knew, so he grabbed his walking stick and tossed it up to the monster.

  The orog’s face contorted in confusion as it batted the walking stick aside, but Cadderly’s ruse was not without purpose. In the split second the orog’s attention was stolen, Cadderly turned himself around and rolled to his back, looking up to the orog’s backside. He curled up in a ball, hooking his calves behind the orog’s knees and straightened and pulled with all his might.

  For a long moment, nothing happened, and Cadderly thought that he must look ridiculous indeed, as though he were straining against an immovable object. Then the orog did fall forward, but not heavily, and with no damage done. Cadderly scrambled forward over the orog’s back, and he hooked one arm around the orog’s thick neck and pulled for all his life.

  Undaunted, the creature stood back up, taking Cadderly with it. It looked around for its sword, which it had dropped in the fall, then spotted the weapon and made for it.

  Cadderly realized that the monster could easily jab the weapon behind it, right into his vulnerable torso. Frantic, the young scholar considered letting go and making a run for cover, but he knew he would never get out of the monster’s reach in time.

  “Fall, damn you!” Cadderly growled, tightening and twisting his arm.

  The orog, to Cadderly’s astonishment, dropped its sword back to the ground. As though it had noticed the choke hold for the first time, the monster’s thick hands came up to grab at Cadderly’s arm, but by that time, there remained little strength in them.

  Eyes closed, Cadderly desperately held on, still pulling with all his might.

  Finally, the orog tumbled to the ground.

  The last orog, near the tree, favored its right foot. It wanted to go with its two companions, one lying atop the netted elf and the other waving a sword menacingly and looking for an opening, but the creature winced whenever its toe came near the ground. The beast looked up and saw the flesh from its leg hanging grotesquely from the jag on the broken tree branch.

  Cursing its luck and ignoring the burning agony, the stubborn creature hopped on its good foot out from the maple’s wide trunk.

  Right into Kierkan Rufo’s path.

  Rufo rode one horse and held the other beside it, and his charge came powerfully, if a bit late. The man hadn’t meant to run the orog down with his own horse—he had purposely placed the riderless steed closer to the tree—but the orog’s unexpected movement had put it right between both horses.

  The monster got tangled in the worst possible way and was stepped on several times, but when the horses passed, it was still alive, lying helplessly on its back. Its spine was crushed, leaving it staring straight up at the dripping meat of its own ripped leg.

  The riderless horse crossed the broken branch without trouble, but Rufo’s horse, stumbling from the tangled orog, flipped headlong, sending the man on a long, bouncing roll. Rufo spat dirt, shifted, and sat looking back at the battle.

  His attack did much to aid Elbereth’s cause, for one of the three orogs moving to engage the elf was down and a second had broken away from the fray.

  It seemed little comfor
t to poor Rufo, though, for the orog had only run because it had spotted an easier target: Rufo. It charged down the trail, its huge sword waving and its tongue hanging hungrily between broken yellow teeth.

  Danica, over to the side, reacted. She snapped off one more kick, which sent her orog’s head jerking backward, then broke free of the monster. She hesitated, glancing at Elbereth, but apparently figured that the elf had the situation under control, and ran after the orog approaching Rufo.

  Elbereth squirmed around to face the heavy orog. He worked his hand to his belt, using his other arm to keep the ugly monster’s snapping mouth from biting at his face. The elf prince’s arm moved in three rapid jolts, the orog heaving with each. The fourth time, Elbereth held his arm tight against the monster and began twisting his wrist back and forth.

  The monster rolled off the elf’s slender stiletto and thrashed in the road, trying to hold its entrails inside its opened belly.

  In a single movement, the agile Elbereth slipped out from under the crude net and came up to his knees. Merciless and grim-faced, he whipped his dagger into the squirming orog’s leg so that it couldn’t run while he retrieved his sword.

  Danica was swift, but the orog’s lead was too great. Rufo pulled his mace from his belt and tried to stand. He was less skilled with weapons than even Cadderly and couldn’t hope to hold out for long. Even worse, Rufo’s ankle, twisted in the fall, would hardly support him, and he fell back on the seat of his pants. The orog was almost upon him, and he seemed certain he was about to die.

  The orog’s head jerked suddenly to the side, though, and half of its face blew off, showering Rufo and Danica, as she rushed in, with blood and gore.

  Rufo and Danica stared at each other in disbelief for a moment then turned in unison to the side, to see Cadderly standing between the rocks, crossbow in hand and a horrified expression splayed across his face.

  SIX

  THE QUALITY OF MERCY

  Cadderly stood perfectly still for a few moments, too immersed to even notice his two friends’ approach. All of his thoughts were focused on what had just occurred, on what he had just done. Three orogs lay dead by his hand, and worse yet, he had killed one of them with his bare hands.