Days passed as they marched to the east toward the city named after the demon, Ergrauth. Their trek through the badlands was uncomfortable, at best. Aside from the sparse vegetation, packs of wild Del’Unday roamed these lands. Periodically they were spotted standing motionless on the top of a mesa, watching the travelers pass below.
“They are called the Kewtall,” Santorray informed his companions. “Insane ones. They stand perfectly still up there on those ridges to mark their territory and intimidate outsiders. They plan to scare us away or devour us should one of stray off from the group.”
The Ergrauthian guards had frequently tempted Santorray to fight his way out, to no avail. They simply couldn’t get him irritated enough to attack. The guards also provided the Nums and Grewen with opportunities to escape for freedom if they wished to attempt to travel on their own in these lands.
Santorray shook his head at the Nums, ensuring them that it was a foolish choice. “The wild Dels of these lands are like pack animals. They wait for a few to break off from the main group and then they attack. You’d never survive half a day out here on your own.”
“But if we all escaped together, we could make our way back past the Guardians.” Thorik looked up at another Kewtall on the ledge above them.
“I could, but you Nums wouldn’t stand a chance. These aren’t Fesh’Unday. They are tribes of Dels who hunt travelers for survival. They are skilled and savage warriors.”
Disappointed in his response, Thorik grimaced at the Blothrud. “Haven’t we proven ourselves to you yet? I think we can support our own.” Glancing back up at the Kewtall, he found they were no longer there. A quick scan back at the other mesa tops showed that all of the recent Kewtalls had disappeared. “Where did they all…”
Grewen glanced back at the ledges above them and noticed the same thing. “We’re just being watched.”
“Or hunted,” Thorik said.
“They’re stalking. Waiting to see a weakness. Looking for a wounded member or a smaller one they could easily drag off from the rest of the group,” Santorray replied.
Thorik swallowed hard and took a quick inventory of his group’s whereabouts. “Perhaps, you’re right. Maybe we don’t want to take the guards up on their offer for freedom.”
Periodically, the captive party would spot more Kewtalls on the upper flats of the desert badlands. It was obvious that they would be under their watchful eye until they had left their lands.
After hours of walking in the hot sun, Avanda thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. One of the motionless Kewtalls began to swing about, but by the time she pointed it out to Thorik, it was gone.
It was nearly an hour later, when she noticed it happening again. This time, she kept an eye on it and watched it thrash about as some type of bird pecked away at it. This Kewtall moved away from the overlooking ledge as well, but the bird remained as it fluttered down to the edge and watched the travelers walk past.
Avanda struggled to see the bird as the sun burned her eyes to look up, but she was able to see the bird lift off and fly above them. Circling for several minutes, it slowly lowered itself closer to the marching prisoners.
Nudging Thorik to look up at it, she noticed that it had disappeared. Thorik wasn’t in the mood for games as he attempted to develop a plan of escape.
Frustrated that no one else had seen the bird except her, Avanda scanned the skies to see where it had flown. She watched for Kewtalls, as well as the possibility of it resting on a ledge, but found no evidence of it.
“Idiot!”
Avanda heard the voice of Bryus and looked over at Thorik. He had heard it as well.
“Leave me alone,” Bryus’ voice said again.
Brimmelle heard it and spun around. All three Nums were looking for Bryus after hearing his voice with his typical condescending tone. But he was nowhere to be seen.
“I have to do everything myself,” It was clearly Bryus’ voice, but this time Avanda saw where it was coming from. The bird she had seen earlier was now waddling along with them as it blurted out comments it had obviously heard Bryus say more than once.
Bright red, green and orange colors coated its feathers except for its orange and white face. With eyes way too large for its head, it looked like someone had squeezed its neck so hard that its eyes had popped out of their sockets.
Abrupt swipes of the bird’s head back and forth nearly caused it to lose balance, as it limped along with a talon missing from one claw. “Idiot! Out of my way,” it said as it walked past Brimmelle and up to Avanda.
Brimmelle grimaced at the comment. “Great, I was just getting used to the idea of Bryus not being around.”
“It’s Bryus’ pet.” Avanda knelt down and showed the bird a piece of rag with Bryus’ scent on it.
“How is that possible?” Brimmelle asked.
“I performed the summon swap spell on Bryus and his pet before I left him at the Guardians. He told me that his pet would find us by following his scent.” She reached out to pick the bird up. “I wonder what her name is?”
“Idiot!” the bird blurted out.
Brimmelle smiled. “Good enough for me.”
Thorik laughed. “What use could this crippled bird be for us? Why would he send her to us?”
Lifting the bird up, Avanda began to pet it. “I don’t know if she does have a purpose for us. I think the idea was just to get Bryus back to his family. I hope he made it.”
“Hi, Idiot.” Brimmelle then reached over to pet it.
Idiot snapped at Brimmelle’s fingers, nearly taking one of them off. “Leave me alone!” it squawked.
Chapter 45
City of Ergrauth
Essence of Gluic Page 57