Stalking the Beast

by Howard Andrew Jones

  When they were through, she lay content with him, his good arm across her, her hair against the stump of his arm.

  "Do you never need rest?" Illidian asked. His voice was groggy, but he was alert, and she wondered if sex were the best way to counter any drug used upon a man. Aladel still lay motionless nearby, and she didn't think he feigned sleep from politeness.

  "I needed you more," she said, attempting to be playful and then realizing it was true. Her expression hardened but Illidian seemed not to notice.

  "I was dreaming that there had been a battle," he went on, "and that many years had passed, but I slept on, and on, and there was nothing left here but the grass and stone and me, beneath the blanket."

  He played with her hair, and she found that she liked it.

  Yet his tone grew bitter. "Do you know, even when I dream, now, I have but one hand."

  "There was a battle," she told him. "We fought and captured the summoner."

  He stopped stroking her hair immediately. Even his breathing halted. She felt the intensity of his gaze even without being able to see his eyes. He tried a short, soft laugh. "That's a strange jest." A note of disapproval. "And I don't really think it's funny."

  "I'm not joking." She regretted saying anything at all to him. Hadn't she simply planned to feel his arm about her? "The summoner attacked the camp. While the druids and Grellen held off the monster, Elyana and I—and Drelm and Melias—found the summoner in the tree. We captured him. He's drawing a map for the druids right now. He claims that there are more like him out there, and that he was going to lure us to them."

  Illidian breathed at last, deeply. "All this happened, and I did not wake?"

  "The druids laced our food with something. To help our healing." She wondered at the lie, until she realized it was because she'd already upset him enough. She didn't care one way or another if the druids' stupid secret was kept. "Those of us who ate only a little, or none, roused more swiftly. You and Aladel didn't wake at all."

  Illidian cursed and sat up, then fumbled for his false arm. She reached up for him. "What's the rush?"

  "The summoner," he hissed.

  For all that he hurried, Illidian was precise. He even allowed her to help attach the false arm as he pulled on his outer tunic. Swiftly, stiffly, he finished the rest of his dressing on his own, asking quietly for additional details, which she supplied resignedly.

  "What are you planning to do?" she asked him. The sun was still down, but she could sense it stirring, for there was an expectation in the air, a stillness as though the dawn held its breath and the night spirits flitted nervously for their deep caves.

  "I shall find out when I arrive." He stood and buckled his sword belt with a snap that rang of finality.

  Lisette quickly threw on her own gear, urging Illidian to wait. But the elf stalked off, and she was forced to hurry after with only her breeks and weapons belt fastened.

  "Crazy elf—Illidian! What are you doing?"

  But he strode on, faster than she. Too late, she realized the mistake was having allowed herself to feel resentful as he dressed, like a slattern fallen in love with her customer. If she'd dressed at the same time...

  She had just pulled on her boots when she heard the first scream, and was dashing forward by the time the second, shorter one, died abruptly.

  paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas , Aug 10, 2014

  Chapter Sixteen

  Death Blow

  Elyana

  Elyana's eyes snapped open at the sound of the scream. She felt the lack of sleep acutely even as she threw herself out of her covers and grabbed her sword. Dressed only in a loose leather jerkin and pants, she ran at full speed with her sheathed sword, arriving at the druids' campfire in time to find a weird tableau.

  Everyone stood before the fire but Calvonis. Hindreck was shouting at Illidian, who held a bloodstained sword. Lisette actually looked shocked: her hair was mussed and her eyes wide. Drelm stared down at Kilvor, and Kilvor was bent beside Calvonis, who leaked a copious amount of blood from two brutal head wounds. As Elyana stepped closer, she observed that one blow had scored nearly through the middle of the summoner's head. Another appeared to have taken off his ear and some surrounding flesh.

  Both wounds bled prodigiously, but there was no helping Calvonis. His eyes were relaxed and unfocused, and he reeked of voided bowels and bladder.

  "There's nothing I can do for him," Kilvor said.

  "What about the druid who's arriving this morning?" Elyana asked. "Can't he resurrect him?"

  "Let him rot in Hell!" Illidian shouted.

  Elyana had no patience for the elf's nonsense. "Get him out of here," she snapped. Lisette put a hand to Illidian's arm and tried pulling on him, but the elf stormed off on his own. After a moment Lisette followed.

  "Kilvor?" Elyana prompted.

  "It is not...our place," Kilvor said, rising. "My order does not interfere with the natural course—"

  "Oh gods—that's all you do!" She felt her lips twist in disgust. "The only thing different is that you impose your order."

  "You're wrong. I will not alter what's come before. What's done is done."

  Elyana cursed and glared over at Drelm. Why hadn't he done anything?

  "Forgive me, Elyana," the half-orc pleaded.

  She could not answer.

  He hung his head, shame rendering him uncharacteristically loquacious. "I was watching the summoner while the elf argued with the druids. There was a whole lot of talking, and I thought Calvonis might try something. I was a lot more worried about him taking advantage of the distraction than...I failed. I'm sorry."

  She knew that this admission hurt him more than a sword blow, yet she couldn't quite stay her tongue. "Illidian had a sword, Drelm, and you didn't see the attack coming?"

  "He was faster than I supposed."

  "Captain Drelm did all he could," Kilvor said. "He diverted the first blow so it only struck the Razmiri's ear. But Illidian is nimble."

  Elyana frowned. Sighed. "Alright, Drelm. Did Calvonis at least finish the map?"

  "He was nearing completion," Kilvor told her, and pointed at a piece of paper lying near the hands, still roped together. One of them clutched a broken stylus.

  Elyana considered bending down to lift the paper, then decided against it.

  "What's on it?"

  "Essentially, there's a wilderness base. A small, hidden fort a few hours east, in Tymon. I don't think we need the map—I can send scouts to find it based on this information."

  "Scouts?" Elyana asked.

  "I'm a druid, Elyana." Kilvor actually sounded amused. "Many birds and beasts are my allies."

  Elyana stared down at the pitiful-looking dead thing below her. It was so much easier to hate when your enemies were alive. "He was lying, Kilvor. Drelm was right. Calvonis believed too fervently to betray his people. He agreed too easily."

  "Then we just need to be cleverer than him. If he thought to ambush us, then we will thoroughly know the area. And we will bring reinforcements. Some are already on their way from Sevenarches, and should reach us come the dawn. And I've sent word to our contacts at Tymon. They will meet us there."

  "Us?" Elyana prompted.

  "I had assumed you would want to go."

  Elyana nodded slowly.

  "Yes," Drelm said.

  "And Lisette has volunteered," Elyana said. "But I'll have to check with the others. They're all volunteers, and what they were paid to do has been done." A thought suddenly occurred to her and she considered Kilvor carefully. "Don't you need to check the elves for your plague?"

  "If any of you had it, we would know by now," Kilvor replied grimly.

  "You do realize you're wanting us to work with people who drugged our food."

  "I explained why that was necessary."

  "What?" Drelm asked.

  Neither answered him.

  "You surely have. You Oakstewards are big on talking and deciding what the right thing is. I'd
like to point out that if Lisette and I had eaten your drugged food we'd all be dead now."

  Kilvor sighed. "You're right about that," he admitted. "And I apologize. It would surely be easier to work with your allies if you didn't mention that."

  "I'll speak with them," Elyana said reluctantly. "I damned well wish that I'd gotten better sleep. Come on, Drelm."

  As they moved off, there was a hint of color on the horizon. Gods, how much sleep had she actually gotten last night? Not nearly enough for her to be on her game and risking her life against untested foes.

  "I apologize, Elyana," Drelm said.

  "Don't. Illidian is fast. And I think we all discount him a little because he's only got that one arm. I'd forgotten how...crazy he is."

  The grass was cool under her toes as she walked.

  "He was practically begging me to kill him," Drelm said, "but screamed like a little girl when Illidian did it."

  "Maybe he only meant for you to try to kill him. Maybe he meant some kind of distraction. Maybe he didn't want to give up any more information."

  "I'm glad he's dead," Drelm said, and Elyana couldn't help but agree.

  Elyana put the rest of her gear on quickly, then went first to Illidian. When offered the chance to kill allies of the summoner, he agreed with only a nod. Elyana didn't press him for an apology, or point out that his actions were likely to cause greater problems. He was bitter and a little mad, and she had always known it and should never have forgotten it.

  Grellen and Melias, whom she found holding hands at the breakfast fire, looked at one another before pledging they'd bring down the whole of the band that had set this plan in motion. Elyana went next to Cyrelle, who was kneeling by one of her hounds. The animal sat patiently while she examined its right front paw.

  "Cyrelle," Elyana said gently, then knelt to rub behind the ears of Drutha's dog, Emblid, who promptly sat and banged his tail against the grass.

  The huntswoman turned, swaying a little. She must have drunk deeply of the drugged wine. "I don't know what's wrong with me this morning," she said with a little laugh. "I can't shake the sleep fog."

  Elyana remembered the great gusto with which the woman had devoured food the night previous. She rubbed Emblid behind the ears.

  "I can't believe I slept through the fight, though."

  "Neither can Illidian or Aladel," Elyana told her. "It was over swiftly, though. I took your hounds away from the monster. They're the ones who found Calvonis."

  "That's what Grellen said. Thank you." She released her hound's paw and told the animal to relax. It sniffed the air before trotting off.

  "There's something else I want to talk to you about," Elyana went on.

  "I figure you want to go after whoever else is involved, don't you? Lisette said something about it already."

  "That's right."

  "I've lost so many animals. That's hard going."

  "I know."

  Emblid let his tongue loll out, then fell on his side, legs folded in. Elyana smiled to herself and leaned in to scratch his belly. "Are you going to be able to find a home for him?"

  "He's not the kind of dog I usually work with," Cyrelle admitted. "But Emblid's superbly trained. We should probably write Drutha's village and see if someone in the family wants him. If not, I'll be glad to have him." Her voice grew soft, almost wistful. "I think I may be about done with this kind of thing myself. I want some land of my own, but not somewhere out in the wilderness. Someplace where I can raise my dogs and sell them to folk who need good hunting and tracking hounds."

  "A larger city," Elyana guessed.

  "Right. There just aren't enough steady customers out here in the Kingdoms. And I'm tired of living wild all the time. It'd be nice to have someone else do some cooking. To have someone else mend the clothes."

  "So you're looking for a wealthy tailor to settle down with. Who can cook."

  Cyrelle stared hard at her a moment, then chuckled. "You think the druids have one of them handy?"

  "It can't hurt to ask."

  "You're alright, Elyana. I don't think I'm going."

  Elyana stood. She'd guessed as much before she even broached the subject. "I want you to know—I gave your advice a lot of thought last night."

  "I'm glad I could help."

  "Thank you, Cyrelle. For everything."

  By the time she finished talking with Cyrelle, Aladel was waiting to speak with her.

  "I suppose you've heard something about all this already," Elyana asked.

  Aladel didn't answer this. He said only: "Walk with me," and turned from the camp. A half-dozen riders were cresting the hill toward them, four wearing the oak tree tabard of the Sevenarches guard force, and Elyana watched for a moment, tense until she saw that Kilvor recognized and welcomed them.

  They walked south of the camp toward the burned-out tree.

  "You're being awfully mysterious," Elyana said.

  "And you're rightfully wary," Aladel replied. "I want you to put aside your assumptions, though, Elyana, and pretend with me."

  "I'm in little mood for games, Aladel."

  "But you trust my judgment. I've seen it. Trust me now."

  His look was peculiarly intent, and she nodded, once.

  "Pretend that you work for the Kyonin border patrol, and one of your officers has lost two commands while following some kind of beast. Miraculously, he survives each attack. Would you be suspicious?"

  "There are a lot of incompetent officers."

  "True enough. But not, usually, among Kyonin's rangers."

  Elyana agreed with a nod.

  "Then Illidian lost a third, Elyana. You saw it happen."

  "Wait a moment. I thought he'd only lost one command prior."

  "He had divided his first command to investigate some strange tracks. His squad went one way, and the other got sent straight into a massacre. Then he lost almost all of a larger patrol sent to follow up. Then he came on across the river."

  Elyana halted, and for the first time in a long while, she studied Aladel closely. On the surface, he didn't look so different from other elves, although there was a certain ease of manner when you saw him among other races. That was to be expected from an elf that'd been out wandering in the world.

  Or from a spy.

  "Do you know why Kyonin sent only a small force with Illidian on this expedition, Elyana? It's because we suspected his involvement. We feared he was leading the patrols to slaughter."

  They reached the tree, and the scent of the burned wood was almost pleasant. "If you doubted him," Elyana asked, "why not compel answers from him with a spell? In my experience, if Kyonin's leaders want something, they make it happen."

  "I suggested that very thing. But Illidian's family has powerful connections. And then there was the loss of his arm, which certainly seemed to leave him in the clear. After all, who would deliberately do that to themselves?"

  "Right. So why are you telling me this? You can't still suspect him. His blood cousin died, too. Are you saying he pretended grief about all of this?"

  "He killed Calvonis. Before Calvonis could be forced to talk."

  She couldn't believe it. "You really think he's been pretending all this? I was there when he was wounded. When he lost his arm, and when our camp was attacked. Either time he could have died if a healer wasn't on hand. Or if I'd been a moment too late."

  Aladel nodded. "And he and Calvonis had to have known you were there, and who you were. Everyone along the border knows about Elyana Sadrastis. As long as you were left alive, you could heal him. And among all those injuries you weren't wounded either time. It's as if they wanted to make sure you lived, to heal people."

  She shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. My magic is extremely limited. Any spellcaster would know that. Suppose I'd already used mine up for the day? It seems a stupid risk just to get us to trust Illidian."

  "I think getting him wounded was more to remove any of the border patrol's lingering suspicions."

 
She couldn't believe it. Her gaze drifted back up to the camp. The shadow of one ruined wall stretched down the hill, cast by the upper half of the rising sun. "There are all kinds of holes in your theory, Aladel."

  "Think about it, Elyana: Calvonis wanted us to get to certain places. He never wanted everyone dead. He could have killed the people he trapped in the pit instead of dropping the dead dwarf on them."

  "There had to be survivors," Elyana agreed, "to spread fear. We've been over that."

  Aladel shook his head once more. His manner had begun to irritate her. "There are some spells that require blood."

  "I know that," Elyana snapped.

  "And there are some spells that require a certain sort of blood."

  "I've heard the tales, Aladel. Children. Virgins. Certain family lines. Get to the point."

  "Heroes," Aladel finished.

  And at that Elyana froze.

  "Where better to find heroes than in the Kyonin border patrol?" Aladel said. "Unless perhaps you arrange to summon the best and brightest in all the River Kingdoms?"

  "Gods. Blood for what, though?"

  "I don't know yet. They want nothing good, you can be sure. Remember Hindreck saying it was in some kind of a pattern, but he didn't recognize it?"

  She did, but she still couldn't accept Aladel's theory. "What would compel Illidian to kill his own people? His own cousin? Subject himself to the pain of that amputation?"

  "There are healers gifted enough to restore that arm, Elyana. You know that as well as I. It's temporary. And it's a dramatic show. He refused transfer to Iadara to see it tended, saying he deserved the wound."

  "That sounds like something he'd say."

  Elyana turned from the elf and looked once more toward the camp, where one of the newcomers was leading his horse toward the rest of the herd. Another, a slim feminine figure, seemed to be looking down at them.

  Aladel seemed almost to read her mind. "Calvonis was an inspired actor as well. Razmiri are known for that kind of thing."

  She shook her head. "You're saying that they deliberately led us to all these places so that blood would be shed."