The Eye of Tanglewood Forest (Haymaker Adventures Book 3)

by Sam Ferguson

  “Nope,” replied the dwarf just before he spat over the side. “And I should warn you, all four of these pups were lost several years ago. Their whole litter escaped the pens and ran away into the depths of the mountain. Most of the litter died, but these four survived. I only just found them a couple months ago. They were feral as a bunch of gits, with appetites and attitudes to match, but they’re good pups. Sad thing too, the whole litter had been bred from the best warrior cavedog stock in Shuldern. They were destined to be fighting animals, but, if you miss out on training in the first year, a cavedog is usually only good for labor like pulling carts.”

  “They’re wild?” Jonathan asked Jason.

  “Move out!” a shout came from the front of the caravan.

  Before Jonathan could voice any of the concerns running through his head, the driver let out a holler and a whistle. “All right, here we go. I’ll try to keep the newbies from flipping the cart.”

  “Flipping the cart?” Jonathan asked, but it was too late. The cavedogs sprinted off, yanking the cart forward and forcing the trio to hold on for dear life.

  The smaller carts and wagons went first. There were no whips to spur the animals on. Instead, all of the drivers gave a slight tug on their reins and then made clicking noises with their mouths. The cavedogs moved with incredible speed, easily matching a horse’s galloping pace. Jonathan looked around for something to hold onto, and settled for grabbing the side of the wagon. No sooner had he done so than the wagon lurched forward. The driver clicked with his tongue and the lizards went faster and faster. Soon the trees on either side of the road were whizzing by the wagon as the lizards kicked up dirt clumps with their clawed feet and the wagon wheels churned up the dust.

  “This is amazing!” Ziegler exclaimed. “Military caravans never move like this!”

  The wagons raced down the road, easily rounding the curves and bends without skidding or tipping. Whether the wagons went uphill or downhill, the speed remained constant. Even when they climbed up to the top of a nearby mountain the animals didn’t slow. Jonathan watched breathlessly as they sailed along a treacherous road that had several sheer drop-offs along the side. Some of them opened onto drops of several hundred feet, but the dwarves never slowed. The trees below almost appeared to be one large, green river flowing in the opposite direction. It was as if the animals were so in tune with the route that they were driving the wagons, pulling them along at blinding speeds without regard for the danger. Ziegler and Jason were enjoying the ride, whooping and hollering out like children, but Jonathan made sure to stay on the far side away from the edge, just in case. After a while the road moved away from the edge of the mountain and crossed two rivers via rickety old bridges, then descended down the other side of the mountain.

  In the first day, they had traveled a total of fifty miles before sundown, or so their driver had said. Jonathan was about to comment on how far they had come when the driver apologized for going slowly and assured them that his new cavedogs were doing well since at least they hadn’t flipped the cart. The driver then hopped down and began unhitching his cavedogs and feeding them from a large bucket.

  “What do they eat?” Jonathan asked.

  “Probably don’t want to know,” Jason said. “After all, he did say he just barely found them a couple months ago. I bet they eat whatever meat they can find.”

  After the cavedogs were all fed, the dwarves broke out ale and food for themselves. The dwarves offered the three of them food as well, which they gladly accepted, but otherwise the dwarves mainly kept to themselves. A couple of wagoneers would get together here and there to talk or eat together, but most of them stayed with their wagons, apparently preferring the company of their animals even to that of other dwarves.

  “Strange lot,” Jason said as he stoked the fire the three of them were using.

  “A bit, but then they have a very different lifestyle,” Ziegler commented. “Still, in many ways they are far superior to us, and have a lot to offer.”

  Jason nodded. He checked his sock and pulled out the parchment just a bit to ensure it was still there, and then he tucked it away again.

  “Worried it fell out?” Ziegler joked.

  Jason smiled and stoked the fire again. “Just checking,” he said.

  “Actually, I have a note I am supposed to show you both,” Jonathan said after ensuring all the dwarves were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear. He pulled out Cayda’s envelope and quietly explained the whole situation to them. Ziegler was quick to take the envelope and hide it in his boot after the group knew everything it said.

  “Now you’re keeping things in your boot,” Jason teased.

  “When we get to Tyrwyn, I will run down this lead, and you two will go and get those windows ordered. No sense if attracting more attention to ourselves than necessary.”

  “Understood,” Jason said seriously.

  Jonathan nodded. “She said she’d pay us well if we succeeded.”

  “This is less about the money, and more about the fact that Brykith seems to be gathering more power to himself. It would seem that he is trying to speed up his plans. Let’s get some sleep.”

  “Where do we sleep?” Jonathan asked.

  “On the ground, I imagine,” Ziegler said.

  Jonathan glanced around nervously at a pair of cavedogs fighting over a scrap of meat. “Maybe we should sleep in the wagon,” he said.

  Ziegler laughed. “I don’t think that would do any good,” Ziegler said. “I have read accounts of cavedogs jumping higher than a man is tall. If they wanted to eat you, sleeping in the wagon wouldn’t help. Just take comfort that none of the dwarves are going to drug you again.”

  Jonathan shivered and pulled his knees up close as he hugged them and set his head down. He was so intent on watching the fighting cavedogs that he missed the playful wink Ziegler shot Jason after the comment. He also missed Jason’s laugh.

  Neither of them bothered to inform Jonathan about the joke. They went about setting out their bedding and prepared to sleep under the stars. Jonathan kept watching the cavedogs as the dark blanket of night was pulled across the sky. The orange and red light of the fires danced upon the lizards as they tromped around their wagons, but fortunately none of them left the side of their respective master. After a while, Jonathan was surprised to see many of the cavedogs curling up alongside their dwarf masters, or outright laying their heads on them. For all the ferocity Ziegler claimed the animals had, they acted well behaved and docile.

  That still didn’t stop Jonathan from watching the nearest ones until his mind finally quieted enough to allow him to sleep.

  They were woken by their driver the next morning as the sun was coming up. They packed their stuff quickly and then moved into the wagon. Minutes after that, they were racing along the road once more. That day and the day after were like the first. The caravan kept up its quick pace, hitting another fifty miles each day and bringing the group closer to Tyrwyn.

  On the fourth day, however, they met with an unfortunate bit of bad luck.

  Shortly after mid-day, the caravan was careening around a bend in the road that took them along the base of a tall bluff. None of them were prepared for the blockade on the other side of the turn. Jonathan, Ziegler, and Jason were all thrown to the floor of the wagon as their driver pulled back on the reins and tried to steer the wagon away from the pile-up. They went off the road and one of the wheels slammed into a sizeable rock, shattering the wheel and toppling the wagon.

  Jonathan hit the ground, but managed to do so without serious injury as the wagon continued to spin over and over and over, rolling through the grass. At first he could hear their driver shouting and screaming, and then he went silent as the wagon continued rolling until it slammed into a large oak tree and split in two.

  “Bandits!” someone called out from the wagon train.

  Jonathan turned around and saw several figures atop the bluff, raining down on the dwarves with arrows.

  Thos
e who had managed to stop their carts without crashing tried to jump down from their wagons and carts and take refuge underneath. Several of them weren’t fast enough to escape the barrage of arrows.

  “Stay back!” Ziegler ordered when Jason tried to rush toward the road.

  “We have to help them!” Jason said.

  “Jonathan, where’s that unbreakable bow of yours?” Ziegler asked.

  Jonathan didn’t need any more instruction than that. He grabbed his bow and sprinted to a nearby boulder where he could take cover while preparing his attack. Ziegler and Jason went with him, but all they had were swords. It was up to Jonathan to put a stop to the bandits above.

  He readied an arrow and jumped out to the side of the boulder. He let loose and caught the first bandit in the throat. The man dropped his own bow and then fell, his body stiff, over the edge of the cliff and slammed down into the dirt below. Jonathan’s eyes went wide when a pair of nearby cavedogs jumped on the corpse and began tearing at it with their claws.

  Jonathan then ducked back behind the rock and nocked another arrow. This time he stood up straight, not wanting to leave his cover the same way two times in a row. He fired his arrow and took a second bandit down.

  Three arrows landed in the ground where he had fired from the first time, another couple of arrows bounced off the top of the boulder just a second after he ducked back down.

  “How many more?” Jason asked.

  “Seven more on top,” Ziegler said. “I would wager they have some coming down the mountain to close the caravan in though.” Ziegler leaned out around the other side of the boulder for a brief moment and then jumped back just as two arrows zipped by. “Elves,” he said grimly. “We’re being attacked by elves.”

  “The dwarves don’t have any bows,” Jason commented. “They’re going to be picked off unless we do something.”

  Ziegler nodded. “There isn’t much we can do from here.”

  Jonathan jumped up again and fired. This time he didn’t stand long enough to see whether he hit his mark. He popped back down to take cover as a flurry of arrows came sailing at the boulder. A few hit the rock, others sailed over them and stuck in the dirt. A heavy crashing sound followed by angry snarls told Jonathan that his third arrow had caused another enemy to fall from the top of the cliff.

  “Now six,” Jonathan said.

  Terrible growls rose up in the air and the dwarves shouted. At first it was a confusing mess, but as Jonathan focused his ears, he understood what was happening.

  “More in the front!” a dwarf called out.

  “Ten at our backs!”

  Angry snarls followed by hooting and howling.

  “They’re letting the cavedogs loose,” Jonathan said.

  “Quite right,” Ziegler said. “Those beasts will take down anyone foolish enough to get close to the caravan now.”

  “Then let’s go help,” Jason said as he started to move. Ziegler grabbed his arm.

  “No, we fight from here. I can’t promise that the cavedogs will look at us as friends right now. They are fighting to defend their masters, and we look nothing like dwarves.”

  A pained howl went up in the air.

  Jonathan peeked around the boulder to see a cavedog with three arrows in its back. It took another step toward an enemy, and then collapsed on the ground. With the archers now concentrating on the cavedogs, Jonathan saw his opportunity to weaken the bandits for good. He walked out from behind the boulder and aimed up at the archer on the far right. He fired his arrow and then turned on the next. Three archers were down before any of them stopped focusing on the cavedogs and bothered to turn their attention to him.

  His hand reached up for another arrow just as the three atop the ridge were grabbing theirs. He fired, but the elf he aimed for dropped into a sideways roll, dodging the arrow. Two arrows were loosed at Jonathan, followed moments later by a third. Jonathan ran out to his right, easily escaping the arrows and heading for a tree fifty yards away.

  “Over here!” Jason called out. Jonathan glanced over to see that Jason was trying to draw the archers’ attention as he went out the opposite way. Jonathan stopped just long enough to fire another arrow, aiming for the archer that was trying to get a bead on Jason. Just as the archer drew his arm back, Jonathan’s arrow took him down. The archer shot out wide, his arrow sailing far out over the group and into the forest.

  Jonathan then dove out of the way as two arrows came at him. One managed to graze his shoulder, but the cut was shallow and short, hardly worth worrying about. He drew another arrow and fired back. His target evaded. Jonathan ran for the tree, barely making it before two arrows whizzed by, taking bits of bark with them. He slung the bow over his shoulder and climbed up into the tree. Arrows came at him any time his hand or leg popped out from behind the trunk as he ascended through the branches, but nothing managed to hit him. Finally he came to a spot mid-way up the tree where he had a pair of branches to use as a platform. They joined at the trunk in a perfect V, so he sat on one and put his feet on the other without showing himself to the enemy. He carefully pulled his bow and nocked another arrow. He drew it back, and then leaned out from behind the trunk. He let loose and the arrow exploded out from the pine needles to bite deep into one of the archers, striking him in the chest. He then sat upright as an arrow came back at him and thunked into the tree.

  Jonathan readied another arrow, but he felt something in his gut tell him to stay still. He waited for just a moment, deciding whether to take another shot, and then another arrow sailed by him. The final archer was now trying to guess when Jonathan would reveal himself, and was trying to time his shots. Another zipped by in front of his feet, just inches away. A third smacked into a branch. Jonathan was pinned down. Several more arrows flew by in only a few seconds, and then they stopped. There was no way to be sure whether the last archer was dead, out of arrows, or just waiting.

  Jonathan carefully bent forward and pulled off his left boot. He readied an arrow, putting it in his mouth in such a way that he could grab it quickly. Then he balanced himself and slowly stuck the toe of his boot out with his right hand, trying to mimic a climbing movement with his boot while he thrust his bow up to rustle a branch overhead with his left hand.

  The archer took the bait and an arrow snatched the boot from Jonathan’s hand.

  Not wanting to lose the two-second advantage he had, he leaned back, took the arrow out of his mouth, and fired. The missile sailed straight and true, slaying the last archer by entering the elf’s skull at the eye socket and knocking him backward to the ground.

  Jonathan then clambered out of the tree and went to join in the fight at the base of the cliff, but saw that the dwarves had everything well in hand. Dwarves and cavedogs were routing the enemy, and Jason and Ziegler were cutting down those bandits who were trying to escape to the forest. It was over in a matter of seconds, with Ziegler running the last bandit through with his sword.

  The dwarves then made their clicking noises and the cavedogs stopped running and went back to their wagons.

  Jonathan watched for a moment as those cavedogs fortunate enough to reunite with their masters cuddled into them much like a dog might do. Those animals whose masters had been slain, went to stand next to the dead bodies and began to nudge them with their snouts. It was both sad and endearing at the same time, and suddenly Jonathan found himself liking cavedogs all the more.

  At that thought, Jonathan turned around and bolted to the broken wagon he had been riding in. Along the way he found one cavedog, its body a mangled, bloody mess of broken skin still hitched to a snapped piece of wood and its head bleeding out onto a rock. He went past it, running to see if he could help the driver. Unfortunately, the dwarf was in worse shape than the mangled cavedog. Jonathan could tell just by looking that the dwarf’s neck had been broken. The driver’s leg had been caught between the bench and the side of the wagon, which was why he couldn’t get free as the contraption crashed. Blood was all over the grass and the fron
t of the wagon. At first glance, Jonathan was sure the other three cavedogs were dead as well. One of them had broken legs that had managed to rip through the skin. Another was lying limp over the neck yoke.

  He turned around, unable to do anything for them. Then, as he walked away, he heard a faint sound. It wasn’t quite a hiss, more of a gasping breath. Jonathan turned around and went to the cavedogs. He saw that one was underneath its yoke, but the reins had gotten wrapped around its neck. As Jonathan inspected the tethers, he found that they had actually tied the cavedog to the falling tongue, the center piece that ran out to all of the yokes from the wagon. In a stroke of luck, being tied to that part had spared the cavedog the trauma the others had suffered. The only problem now was that it couldn’t breathe.

  Jonathan dropped his bow and grabbed his knife. He rushed forward and then reached out for the tether. His hand stopped just as the cavedog’s eyes caught his and the creature flicked its tongue out through the muzzle.

  “I cut you free, you don’t claw me to pieces, agreed?” Jonathan asked.

  The cavedog flicked its tongue out again.

  “I can do this,” Jonathan told himself. “It’s like any other animal, right? If you find a sheep stuck in a bush, what do you do? You calm him down.” Jonathan reached up with his left hand and ran it down the back of the cavedog’s head as he tried to soothe the animal while moving his knife into place. “Shh, it’ll be all right,” Jonathan said as he slipped his knife into place and began sawing the tether. “Easy now.”

  He continued to pet the animal as he worked the tether. His blade was sharp, but the leather cords were not easy to cut through. It took nearly a minute of sawing to cut the first cord free. The cavedog lifted its head and took in a great breath as the tether around its neck fell to the ground. Jonathan then moved onto the next cord around the animal’s body while still petting and stroking the animal with his left hand.

  Within a minute, the cavedog dropped harmlessly from the falling tongue and was free of the yoke.