Howart crossed his arms. "You see, Hastra? It's decided. Eloch has chosen the protector." He gazed at Limbreth. "And by the looks of it, a good one, if she's an ax-maid." He turned to the dwarves. "Is that true?"
Tordug, still wide-eyed in the glow of the white arrow, nodded. "Yup. She's even got death-grip." He patted Makwi on the shoulder. "Makwi's composing all her exploits, and she just keeps adding to them." He shook his head. "Protector of the prophesied arrow? That's a good one, Makwi."
Zelma cackled again. "Sister, what's done is done. We need a plan to move."
Limbreth let her sword point drop a little. "Are we settled then?" She peered at Hastra.
The old Withling frowned, then sighed and nodded as she slouched. "I suppose it's out of our hands now. Literally."
"Good choice." Limbreth sheathed her sword. Sudden joy erupted from her in laughter. "It's so wonderful. What are we to do now? Go find Athson?"
Hastra shook her head. "No, he'll come here if he's smart. But I think we should get to the city as quickly as possible. We'll leave word with Marston for Athson to come to the city." She shifted her gaze between Howart, Zelma, and then Limbreth. "We'll need more than just us in case word somehow gets back to Magdronu's agents." She motioned to Limbreth. "We need to stay ahead of them. Let's find a way to hide that." She turned to the dwarves. "One of you, please find Gweld and Marston. We need to know if these elves can be our escort."
Makwi left in search of the two elves.
Hastra sat and rubbed her face with her hand. "This is just a fine thing. We get the arrow and nearly have a fight over it." She eyed Limbreth. "So it's the White Arrow, is it?"
Limbreth snickered, then answered with sudden seriousness, "It is. And I'll guard it with my life."
Hastra closed her eyes and held her forehead with a sigh, then eyed Limbreth. "It might just come to that."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Magdronu-as-Gweld took a deep breath as he considered what he'd just seen. The prophesied arrow, this White Arrow as Limbreth had named it, created from the blessing of Withlings. He touched the quiver of arrows that lay on his bed in the room. They'd used one from his supply. How neatly and ironically done by Eloch. He should destroy Marston's Station this very night in fire. Magdronu-as-Gweld shook his head. He couldn't risk revealing himself. He needed Athson to give him the Bow of Hart. Ownership by blood permeated the nature of the relic from its creation. That much he'd sensed long ago. Mere theft of the bow transferred nothing to him so his magic wouldn't work on it. But the arrow had been his and that made all the difference.
"We go morning, eh?" Ralda's voice rumbled like thunder in the small room.
"Yes. Have you ever traveled on a boat?" Magdronu-as-Gweld glanced at the giant. He knew the probable answer. Best not to destroy the place tonight, but he needed a plan.
"No. River small at Ralda's home. Giants walk in them." Ralda's hands and fingers told more.
Magdronu-as-Gweld didn't care what Ralda meant otherwise. "Well, as you remember, the river is wide and deep through the forest. Boats will carry most of the ranger garrison back to the city. We'll go with them for the best speed. Boats don't get tired, you know." They didn't, but even trolls did. But what mattered now was the arrow. And the bow.
Magdronu-as-Gweld turned back to his gear. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the quiver again. Hastra had taken the last remaining arrow he'd had when Athson had recovered the Bow of Hart. That was when that magic escaped him. He scratched his ear. Strange, that it should be used for the blessing. He stood and paced. No, it wasn't strange. Eloch twisted everything to his benefit all too often. Why had he not seen it coming? No matter. He just needed a plan to take it.
"Uh, Ralda?"
"Hmm?" The giant looked up from his packing.
Magdronu-as-Gweld wanted to laugh at the giant's deep voice. One day soon he'd show Ralda, and everyone else, the power and terror of his roar. "Mind if I have some time to meditate alone?"
The giant quickly finished stuffing his belongings into the expansive pack he carried. "Go hear elf song." He patted Magdronu-as-Gweld's shoulder with surprising gentleness and left the room.
Magdronu-as-Gweld sat on the bed and crossed his legs beneath him, assuming his feigned meditation, and called to Corgren and Paugren for the second time this night. He waited for their response to the summons, imagining their rings flashing his urgency. It was fortunate that they now had magic from the shrine in Rok. Without that supply, meager though it was compared to the lost one in the Drelkhaz, their power to act over such distances, to carry out his plans, would be far more limited. He needed them for the new shrine and more now.
"M-master, we answer," the brothers stammered in unison as their communication spell opened.
"We have a problem." Magdronu-as-Gweld let his displeasure at the situation flow along the spell. "The arrow has come on the words of Withling blessing." He avoided telling them it was from his own supply. "I have the Bane in position. Paugren, you and one of the sisters continue after Athson and this other Withling. Leave the other two sisters at work creating the new shrine. Corgren, bring the troll army with all haste to the city. We travel by boat."
"We obey, mighty one."
Magdronu-as-Gweld felt the brothers’ obedience over the spell, but still the wandering doubt from Paugren. As expected. His concern for Corgren, perhaps.
Corgren stirred in the spell. "What will you do with the Bane?"
Magdronu-as-Gweld opened his eyes and stared at himself in the mirror across the room. "Steal the arrow." He let part of his true form loose, and his eyes flared like flame for a few moments before he released the communication spell with a casual snap and summoned the Bane into the room.
The spirit, a manifestation tied to Athson's familial curse, darkened the room. He must move quickly in this, before the Withlings or Limbreth were alarmed. He whispered, "Go into the night. Follow the princess from along the river and steal the arrow she carries."
The Bane stepped through the outside wall into the night beyond. Magdronu-as-Gweld leaned against the wall. He'd still win. He'd still beat Eloch's prophecy, arrow or not.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Limbreth sat up in her bed and fumbled in the dark for a sword. It was close. The Bane. Darkness shrouded the room, so she snatched the blanket off the White Arrow. The blessed arrow's light lit the room in an instant. She drew a sword and stood, waiting for the Bane. But the presence faded. She whirled, lit a candle, wrapped the arrow in cloth, and shoved it into her pack. She needed to be ready to leave. Ready for anything. Somehow, Magdronu or Corgren knew it was at the station.
Voices sounded outside her door, and Limbreth's heart leapt into her throat. She stood on guard with her swords when someone knocked.
"Who is it?"
"Hastra. Are you well?"
Limbreth sighed at the muffled answer. She threw the bolt and opened the door, then stepped back into on-guard position again. Just in case something else was going on. "It was near."
Hastra motioned to Makwi, her face tight with concern. "Stand here and watch. Give a call if you see it."
Makwi saluted dwarf-style. "I know what to do and what not to do with it."
Hastra entered the room and shut the door behind her. "I know it was near. I woke Makwi to stand guard. At least a little warning will help. I should have stayed with you, but I wanted to see my sister." She sat on the opposite bed and cleared her throat. "Where is it?" Her eyes fell on Limbreth's pack.
Limbreth lifted her chin. "I have it safe." She sheathed her swords and turned back to the bed. "Thanks for coming." Protective, that was what she felt. That, and giddy from joy without the mention or feeling of threat. Even now, Limbreth wanted nothing more than to gaze on the wonder, such was the attraction. The arrow and protecting it, giving it to Athson, kept all her attention. She swallowed, opened her pack, and checked for the wrapped arrow. Keep it safe for him.
Hastra rolled onto the bed and crossed her arms. "Get some sleep. We
'll leave early for the landing on the river and the boat trip to Auguron City. It will be a safer trip, fewer ways to get at us."
Limbreth rolled into her blanket and sighed, one hand upon a sword-hilt and the other touching the arrow in her pack. She watched the Withling in the waving candlelight. "You're angry with me for taking the arrow."
The Withling swallowed, then shrugged. "More of an issue that you weren't in the plan to be its keeper. But there is some disappointment after working all these years to see it come to fruition."
Limbreth gripped her sword tightly. No one but Athson should truly possess it. "Well, things happened differently, I guess."
Hastra crossed the room to Limbreth and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Limbreth, I'm not your enemy in this. I'm on your side and not a threat."
Limbreth sat up on the bed and shrugged Hastra's hand away. "Agreed. But I'm the keeper of this arrow now, and you can't just order me about either. We'll have to work together. You know the most about this, you and the other Withlings, but you need to hear my thoughts too."
"That's what Howart said." Hastra laid her hands in her lap and blinked at Limbreth. "It is hard to listen, I suppose, when I've been responsible for doing so much." She crossed her arms. "Very well, then, do you have a suggestion?"
Limbreth ran her fingers along her braid and felt for the arrow in the pack where it was wrapped. So Howart spoke for her already. She liked him. A patient, kind man. She needed to stick closer to this Withling if Hastra listened to him. "Well, perhaps we should create a ruse. We can switch boats when we can, or act like the arrow is with a different person at times. If someone about is up to no good, it will keep them guessing. Also, the Bane won't know where to start, and that will keep it off me."
Hastra lifted one hand to her chin and stroked it. "A good idea, I think. We can get other arrows and wrap them up to carry out the ruse. The more packs to check, the better." She paused and pointed at Limbreth. "We'll pair up in different boats with the fake arrows on each one. It will be harder to find. Are you ready to face the Bane, since it's already been near?"
Limbreth swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. The Rokan dagger descended and stabbed her. She blinked at the remembered fear and pain. But then, she'd fought the Bane on the altar. Her death-grip was some defense against it. She grinned and narrowed her vision as one hand squeezed the arrow and the other a sword. She lifted her left hand into Hastra's field of vision. "I have the death-grip, and it helped me at the Funnel. I can fend it off until you Withlings come." She closed her hand to a fist. "I am the keeper, and I'll face this enemy again as necessary."
The Withling nodded. "Good. We'll play the ruse for the sake of confusion, talk openly about who has it at times." She raised her eyebrows and wagged a finger at Limbreth. "But just remember, you can't defeat it alone, only hold it long enough for assistance to arrive."
Limbreth grinned. "Let it come." She was the keeper of the White Arrow until Athson arrived. They'd keep moving and throw off the enemy, but she'd do what was necessary for Athson's sake and the prophecy.
Hastra went looking for more arrows, and Limbreth withdrew the holy arrow from her pack, unwrapped it, and gazed in wonder at it, as awe swelled in her chest and her breath accelerated. This was the hope of the prophecy. She'd die to protect it if necessary.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The elven ranger garrison of Western Auguron continued its retreat in the face of superior numbers by marching to the river landing north of Marston's Station. Magdronu-as-Gweld went with them and his companions. The Bane awaited well out of the way near the river. He watched Limbreth often. They played their little game with several arrows, but she really carried the one that mattered to him. He'd have the arrow sooner or later.
He rode with his friends along the line of troops to the river and considered his various moves. He'd recovered from the setbacks in Rok and at the Funnel. His magic flowed once again to his servants. As for the bow and Athson, he'd have to take that when the opportunity arose in Auguron, since he'd not arrived. But Paugren hunted the other Withling. That one had proved disruptive for a while now, and Magdronu would see the problem removed, permanently. This Apeth Stellin, long presumed dead, bore no chance against his servants now. Of that, Magdronu was certain. The shrine and his growing power would tip everything his way in the coming days.
"You can see it this evening, dear." Hastra fended Limbreth away as a ruse that she held the arrow.
Magdronu-as-Gweld smirked as his gaze prowled among the others. Ralda might be watching again. Magdronu wondered if the giant suspected something since Ezhandun. He showed no sign of it. Practice care with him. Just a while longer. But Hastra's ruse didn't fool Magdronu.
Limbreth sighed. "Yes, Withling." She feigned being disappointed, but the Grendonese woman was a poor actress. She rode with her chin up, her eyes searching, and a hand ready to a sword. She carried the so-called White Arrow, if anyone. So protective and yet so vulnerable to the Bane.
Magdronu-as-Gweld roved the forest for several days, feigning his scouting duties. He needed freedom to shift forms, to hunt. He'd have precious little time on those boats. He couldn't attend sacrifices in Rok, but he needed blood regardless. Perhaps a few victims on the boats might help. There was always a bit of mishap among troops. He'd add his own quiet mayhem to the mix.
Several days passed until they came to the landing, a river wharf that extended into this wide section of the Auguron River gliding west. Several barges and larger transport boats lay assembled to ferry people escaping west. The rangers boarded in orderly detail. Limbreth and Hastra found one boat to their liking, large enough for them to sleep below the deck in the storage space. Their other companions took to other vessels as planned. Horses lined other barges for the trip.
One of the other Withlings, the man Howart, gazed at him, and Magdronu-as-Gweld nodded toward him. "Withling, I hope you like travel on boats."
"It's been a long while since I was on water. I think I'll spend a few hours gaining my balance." Howart shook his head. "Not like you elves. You seem to always have your balance in all situations."
Magdronu-as-Gweld offered a respectful salute. "Indeed, we are blessed with long life that gives us practice in many settings like this. Lean on a ranger's shoulder, if you need it."
The appearance of these other Withlings represented a slight change in Magdronu's plans, but he'd adjust for them. Kill them all in the end, and he'd be rid of the entire order. He cupped an elbow in one hand and raised the other hand for a speculative scratch on his elven-disguised cheek. He'd have them all soon. Not soon enough, but soon. Thankfully, Howart and Zelma boarded another craft with Danilla.
The barges and boats cast off and weighed their anchors as they were filled. Boatmen poled and guided the little fleet into the deeper current with the morning sun glistening off the dark blue water. The craft smelled of the river mingled with that of horse. The sound of water sloshing and lapping against the boats formed a cadence to the calls of the crewmen and the rangers. Magdronu grinned inwardly. A seemingly simple retreat from overwhelming numbers of trolls on the march. They never guessed their worst enemy stood among them. He resisted a snort of derisive heat and leaned against the rail while the crewmen did their work and Limbreth acted out her part of the ruse in another boat further back from his own.
Magdronu lost sight of Limbreth's vessel. A boat limited his prey's movement, but not the Bane’s. He'd move his piece of the game and capture that important item soon enough. He almost chuckled at the despair the capture of the arrow was certain to cause. He'd run through his necessary act until that occurred. Necessary until Athson handed over the Bow of Hart, and then he'd reveal himself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Athson and Apeth Stellin arrived late in the day at Marston's Station amid the hustle and scurry of travelers escaping the oncoming troll army. Within the station, Athson found turmoil as people barked demands for supplies and Marston's workers busied themselves with their own eva
cuation while also selling their supplies.
"Panic's setting in." Apeth Stellin stepped out of the doorway before two scrambling merchants and other travelers trampled them. "I wonder if you can make it east now."
Athson hid his irritation for the moment. He'd head east, trolls or not. "I can swing north through the forest, maybe take a boat upriver."
A Grendonese merchant paused in passing. "There aren't any boats to be had now. The ranger garrison took most downriver to the city. Most other vessels have fled or withdrawn in either direction at the command of the rangers, lest the trolls get their paws on them. They want to hold them up in the forest so they have to forage and travel slower."
Athson regarded Apeth as the merchant rushed away on his own affairs. He cast a word at the departing man, "Thanks for the news."
The merchant waved and kept going.
"Everyone's on their own, I suppose." Apeth beckoned Athson after him. "We'd best speak with Marston, if he's around."
Athson veered toward the counters. "I need supplies. You watch the mule for me. I've no news for Marston, except the obvious and my own."
"What's this?" Marston stepped out of the crowd.
Athson sighed. Another delay in his quest for his mother. He needed to gather supplies and push east faster than these empty conversations allowed.
The tall elf eyed Athson, his pointed ears almost erect like Spark's. "I guess you'll join the guards protecting travelers evacuating to Auguron City?"
That reminded Athson of his invisible dog, and he glanced around for the mountain hound, catching sight of his fur through the bustling crowd near the mule. Maybe the mule was safe with the dog.
He opened his mouth to answer Marston’s question, but Apeth spoke first.
"We've news from further east."
Marston's blue eyes fixed on the Withling. "Don't I know you?"
Apeth Stellin shrugged and tilted his head so his hat brim partially hid his face. "I pass through here on occasion. But I've had the recent acquaintance of this ranger. We were attacked by several troll scouts as we came east."
The White Arrow Page 9