The Companions tms-6

by Tina Daniell

  "I knew that the spell required jalopwort," Raistlin continued, "and that jalopwort is rarely found in these parts. Here was an opportunity to obtain some. Sturm and Caramon volunteered to accompany Tas on a journey to Southern Ergoth to purchase a quantity for me."

  "And?" prompted Flint, who was beginning to think that Raistlin was getting awfully long-winded these days. The dwarf knew all about the crushed whatever-it-was and the reasons behind the trip to Southern Ergoth. He took aim and skipped another stone. Nine skips, the dwarf counted with satisfaction.

  Raistlin templed his fingers, staring at both of them with that intensity that so unnerved Tanis. "After receiving Tasslehoff's message, I made the journey to Poolbottom yesterday and consulted with the Master Mage. He reminded me of something that I should have taken into account. Jalopwort grows in abundance only on the island of Karthay, a remote and desolate part of the minotaur isles. According to minotaur law, it cannot be transported or sold outside the realm. Minotaur society deems jalopwort sacred. That indicates whoever killed the minotaur herbalist-"

  "Argotz," murmured Tanis, remembering.

  "Whoever killed Argotz," continued Raistlin, "may have followed Sturm, Caramon, and Tasslehoff and tried to kill them."

  Tanis jumped up, eager for an adventure, eager to be doing something, anything but mooning around in Solace. "Then we must go to Vengeance Bay, track these seamen, and force them to tell us what happened to the Venora. If necessary, we'll go to Eastport and look for clues."

  Flint looked at his elven friend in horror. "Go to Vengeance Bay… Eastport?" the dwarf sputtered. He was worried about his friends, but this seemed a little hasty. Flint had been thinking of taking a summer trip, but somewhere nice and quiet and alone up in the mountains, not to the rowdy, crowded towns of the seacoast.

  "No," Raistlin said flatly. "It has been over ten days since the peddler was in Vengeance Bay. And Eastport would yield nothing. It would be a fruitless chase."

  "Listen to Raistlin," agreed Flint hurriedly. "It wouldn't make any sense."

  Raistlin gestured impatiently. "And remember, the sailors were celebrating with minotaur coin," the mage said. "No, it wouldn't make any sense to head to the west, because if I am right, the danger to my brother and our friends lies far, far to the east. That is where we must go as quickly as possible. To the Blood Sea and the minotaur isles."

  "To the Blood Sea?" gasped Flint. His face lost color. He had to sit down to absorb the shock.

  "The minotaur isles?'' asked a surprised Tanis. "But they're thousands of miles away, several months of arduous land travel. Even if Sturm, Caramon and Tasslehoff have been taken there, if they're in danger, we could never hope to arrive in time."

  "How the devil would they get from the Straits of Schallsea to the minotaur isles in so short a time?" asked a bewildered Flint.

  "I don't know how," admitted Raistlin. "Probably by some highly evolved magic. But if they are alive, that is where they are. This I believe. And I am going to go there and try to find them. The only thing I want to know is are you going to come with me?"

  "How?" asked Tanis again. "How can we possibly hope to cover such a distance?"

  The mage's eyes glittered excitedly. "When I spoke with Morath, he told me of an oracle who lives near Darken-wood and knows of a portal that could take us, in the matter of heartbeats, to Ogrebond on the coast of the Blood Sea."

  "Ogrebond!" muttered Flint disconsolately.

  "From there, we would have to make our own way by hiring a ship and crossing the Blood Sea to the minotaur kingdom."

  "Oh, no!" Flint threw up his hands. "I'm not crossing any Blood Sea! I've heard all about the Blood Sea!" He pointed out across peaceful Crystalmir Lake. "Maybe," he continued, "just maybe, I'd cross Crystalmir Lake to rescue my friends, but maybe I wouldn't, either. It would depend on my mood and which friends they happened to be. But you're not going to get me into a boat to cross the Blood Sea no matter what portal or which friends or how many coppers you gave some shrewd roving peddler!"

  Raistlin paid little attention to the grizzled dwarf, who was making a great show of stomping around kicking rocks and tree stumps. He stared intently at Tanis. The half-elf shifted uncomfortably under Raistlin's gaze. Tanis guessed the mage knew more than he was telling them, but he didn't doubt his genuine purpose. He knew that if Raistlin believed it to be so, then Sturm, Caramon, and Tas were indeed in trouble.

  After a long silence, Tanis stood and extended his hand in agreement. "They would risk their lives for us," said the half-elf solemnly, "and we owe as much to them."

  Raistlin gave him a nod of thanks.

  "What about Kit?" Tanis asked, thinking of her all of a sudden. "Don't you think one of us should make an effort to contact her?"

  "I have already sent her a message," said Raistlin. "Don't worry about Kitiara. If she can meet up with us, she will."

  "But where is she?" persisted Tanis. "Maybe I-"

  Raistlin cut him off with a look.

  Flint stood near the shore, glowering, holding a perfectly round, flat stone in his hand. He sailed it out over the water. It skipped once, twice, then sank. A bad omen, he was certain.

  The stocky dwarf came over to Raistlin and Tanis, who were waiting for his decision. He looked them both in the face, certain he was staring at two fools.

  He extended his thick, right arm and laid his knotty hand over Tanis's and Raistlin's. "I just want to make one thing clear," the dwarf growled to the mage. "I'm doing this for Sturm and your brother, not for that blasted kender!"

  Raistlin had told them to pack food, weapons, clothing, climbing equipment, and other essentials. Flint got little sleep that night, packing and repacking his haversack, sharpening his axe and knife, and muttering to himself about what a fool he was. Just before dawn, a knock sounded at the door, and there stood Tanis, all packed for the trip and grinning broadly. What put the half-elf in such a blasted good mood? Flint wondered.

  They were supposed to meet Raistlin at a bend in the road leading out of Solace. Hurrying out the door, Flint remembered something, then raced back in and brought out the piece of bark. With a stub of charcoal, he scribbled something and hung the sign on his door as he and Tanis hurried out into the gray dawn.

  The sign read, Gone Hunting-Indefinitely.

  Chapter 3

  Uncle Nellthis

  For six days, Nellthis's hired men had been trying to pick up the trail of the elusive leucrotta that was rumored to be preying on denizens of the forest east of Lemish near the foothills of a small, saw-toothed mountain range.

  Of all the unusual creatures of Ansalon, the leucrotta was one of the most rare, so rare that Nellthis doubted the reports of its existence so near his fiefdom.

  He sent a loyal subordinate, a broad-shouldered worthy by the name of Ladin Elferturm, his best hunter, to lead the band of a dozen stalwart men who would stalk the creature.

  Around women and at feasts and small gatherings, Elferturm seemed a bumpkin whose thick tongue was somehow stuck in his square jaw. But in the forest or the mountains he was in his element, his senses alert to the slightest nuance of sound or smell. No one had better aim with a longbow-no one except Nellthis himself, that is.

  Even accepting that the rumors were correct and a leucrotta was in the vicinity, tracking it would be tricky. A leucrotta's hoofprints were virtually identical to those of a stag, and the woods in these parts were rife with mature deer. By the second day, Ladin Elferturm believed the peasant accounts because he had found several carcasses of doe and stags, ravaged and torn by sharp, jagged teeth, then left half-eaten. By the fourth day, he felt certain that he could distinguish the tracks of the leucrotta from the other wild animals in the area, and that he and his men had the huge, dangerous creature on the run.

  On the morning of the sixth day, Ladin Elferturm squatted on his haunches and, with his fingertips, felt the moist-ness of the spoor on the ground at his feet. His almond eyes, framed by short black hair and a well-trim
med beard, lifted up to note the steep, winding gorge ahead. He knew that the gorge, a narrow, straight-walled canyon with a seasonal streambed, had only one other opening, less than a mile to the north.

  With a signal, Ladin Elferturm separated his men into two groups and sent the splinter group around to the other end of the gorge, through a sloping forest, to guard the way out. Then he gave one of his men a message to take to Nellthis. After that, Elferturm and his men made temporary camp. With some pride, the hunter waited for his lord.

  Nellthis arrived at the camp less than four hours later, accompanied, as Ladin Elferturm knew he would be, by his niece, Kitiara Uth Matar and several loyal retainers. All wore jerkins and carried assorted hunting and trapping gear. With her cropped, raven hair and easy swagger, Kit was virtually indistinguishable from the men who hurried over to confer with Elferturm.

  Impatient these last several days, Nellthis had ridden out from his small castle immediately after receiving word that the leucrotta was trapped. Now his manner was brisk and authoritative. He barked out orders. The men hastened to take their positions, some near and others distant, posting sentries at several points above the gorge.

  Elferturm's job was done and done well. The hunter stole a glance at Kitiara, her face flushed and eager, her dark eyes watching her uncle as he hurried about, readying his men for the kill. Kit did not so much as give Elferturm a nod.

  Within minutes, the hunting party was ready and mounted again. Nellthis had chosen two men, as well as his niece, to accompany him below. The four cautiously began to descend into the gorge.

  Elferturm's task was to keep watch from the high ground. He wasn't surprised to be left behind, but he couldn't help being annoyed. Elferturm fancied himself a better shot than his master, although everyone knew otherwise, and he had hoped against hope for a chance to demonstrate his skill in front of Kitiara by slaying the leucrotta.

  Nellthis and Kitiara, followed by two others whose principal responsibility was to carry weapons and supplies, eased their horses down into the narrow gorge. As Kit watched, her uncle dismounted and checked a trail of hoof-prints, still fresh in the sand next to the shallow stream. He grinned up at her with fierce satisfaction. Nellthis signaled Kit and the others to tie up their horses and to proceed, as stealthily as possible, on foot.

  Nellthis of Lemish carried only his favorite ornamented longbow, made of hemp and yew, its width the equal of his height. Over one shoulder he wore a sling of arrows, their shafts of birch with feathers of goosewing and arrowheads of poison-tipped iron. Kitiara carried the longbow with which she had been practicing, shorter than her uncle's for easier handling, with a heavy leather grip.

  They stepped lightly among the stones, moving along the gorge, doing their best to stay hidden, weaving from clumps of bushes to outcrops of granite. Nellthis and Kitiara split up, one on each side of the gorge, each followed by one of the retainers.

  Nellthis kept slightly ahead of the others. As they moved down the gorge, they could spot the other men, far above, posted at intervals. Kit knew that her uncle relished this moment. A great hall in his castle was set aside for his animal trophies. Nellthis prided himself on his vow to have assembled one day a perfect stuffed specimen of every beast on the face of the continent. His eagerness for this hunt was all the keener because months had passed since Nellthis had been able to add to his already impressive collection.

  Now Kitiara watched as her uncle pressed against the wall opposite her, straining his eyes and ears for any indication of the creature trapped in the gorge. To kill a leucrotta, Kit knew, would keep her uncle satisfied for many months.

  In some respects, Nellthis was a comical man. Hopelessly short and chunky, with an incongruous rapier mustache, he was nonetheless vain and fussy about the way he looked. Like a spoiled princess, he would spend hours choosing the color and trim of his garments. He kept a seamstress on the payroll solely to provide him with the latest in fashionable wear.

  Kit knew that, behind his back, Nellthis was mocked for his temper tantrums, his gluttony, and his habit of drinking too much, falling asleep early, and staying in bed most days until early afternoon. Nellthis was wealthy enough to be able to afford anything he wanted, not only the best food and drink and a vast retinue, but also a routine of comfort and indulgence.

  No admirer of sloth, Kit still respected her uncle's power and ability to exercise his slightest whim. Even more, she prized Nellthis as a link to her father, even though he wasn't a blood relation. Nellthis was the husband of Gregor Uth Matar's sister. Kit had never known her aunt, who had died in childbirth along with the baby. But she knew Nellthis had maintained loyal contact with Gregor while he was in Solace, and she suspected that her uncle was one of the few family members Gregor had been able to call on for "temporary loans" on behalf of his wife and young daughter.

  After Gregor disappeared, Nellthis had kept in touch with Kit through the years. And now, bored with Solace and disenchanted with Tanis, Kitiara had come to stay with him for the time being.

  As Uncle Nellthis edged cautiously ahead, flattened against the wall of the gorge, Kit marveled at his skill as a marksman and master hunter despite his profligate lifestyle.

  A crackling sound put them both on alert. Waving one arm, Nellthis gestured to Kit. Like him, she notched her bow. Slowly, moving on opposite sides of the gorge, they edged around a zigzag bend that opened into a broader section of the canyon marked on Kit's side by a large needlebush.

  Almost simultaneously, both saw the deep cut in the ochre-colored rock that formed a cave. From the shallow depths, two feral red eyes bored out at them. Nellthis, on the same side as the dark opening, froze. Kitiara crouched low to the ground.

  The two watched, half in awe, as a giant creature stepped out into the daylight, seeming to dare them. The leucrotta stood over eight feet tall and nine feet in length, its body similar to that of a great stag, its head like that of a monstrous badger. The head was as black as tar, while the rest of its body was a deep tan. Its hooves were cloven. Its tufted tail was like a lion's.

  Its jaw hung open, drooling slime and revealing bony ridges of pointed teeth. Even from a distance, Kitiara could smell its fetid breath. The breath of a leucrotta was as notoriously foul as its appearance was ugly, perhaps one of the reasons why it lived a solitary life, preferring desolate places.

  As the leucrotta stood there, watching them ominously, Nellthis beckoned the two men behind them to move forward on Kitiara's side. One of the men stayed near Kit, holding swords and various hunting paraphernalia at the ready. The other had the perilous task of crawling forward on his stomach, clutching a large, thick net that could be thrown over the creature to ensnare it.

  The leucrotta appeared to take note of all four of its adversaries, but surprisingly it didn't make a move to charge. With its overwhelming size, it probably could have bounded past them in either direction and escaped. But instead it just stood there, waiting for the human predators to make the first move.

  In one swift, liquid motion, Nellthis rose, nocked an arrow, aimed, and loosed it at the leucrotta. As he did so, Kit rose also, nocking one of her arrows, while the man with the net started to rush forward to toss it over the dangerous beast.

  Everyone was a half second later than the leucrotta, which had already chosen its first prey. With a startlingly sudden movement, the beast leaped forward and caught the man with the net as he threw it and turned to retreat. With the net half-draped over its head, the leucrotta loomed over the man, opened its huge, powerful jaws, bit through the net, and severed the man's head with one brutal snap. The body gushed blood, spattering Kit and Nellthis, as the leucrotta shook its victim wildly and tossed the body like a rag doll against the wall of the gorge.

  Nellthis's arrow stuck out of the creature's left flank, looking puny and inconsequential. Kitiara's shot had missed. Both of them had nocked second arrows by the time the leucrotta ducked behind the needlebush, partly protecting itself from attack.

  Nell
this and Kit hesitated, warily watching the huge animal, whose eyes bore down on them.

  Suddenly the creature opened its maw and made a loud, cluttering, high-pitched noise that blocked out all other sound and was almost painful to Kit's ears. Working its jaws rapidly, the leucrotta continued the shrill sound for several long moments without budging from its sheltered position.

  "What is it doing?" Kit hissed to Nellthis, across the canyon.

  "It's taunting us," Nellthis replied in a low voice. "Bragging about its victims." Crouched low, Nellthis spoke without a trace of fear.

  "You understand its tongue?" asked Kit, startled.

  A merry light danced in Nellthis's round eyes. "No," he admitted, chuckling. "Just guessing."

  The leucrotta worked its jaws again, emitting another long blast of high-pitched, unintelligible sounds. High above, Kit could see Nellthis's archers, drawn by the sound, taking up positions on the ridges of the gorge. Although they took aim with their weapons, they knew better than to shoot unless absolutely necessary. This was to be Nellthis's kill.

  "I think it said, 'I'll eat the fat man first, then the tasty female,' " Kit hissed to Nellthis, wrinkling her face into a crooked smile. Nellthis grinned back.

  Suddenly, from the top of the ridge, a stream of screeches sounded, echoing the leucrotta's.

  Eyes wide, Kit scanned the ridge, certain a companion beast had appeared on the scene. Nellthis, too, his concentration thrown, started up. The leucrotta itself paused in its tirade and raised its head, sniffing the air for the scent of an intruder.

  Kit’s gaze finally latched on to Ladin Elferturm, grinning proudly at his imitation and motioning Kit and her uncle to move in for the kill while their quarry was distracted.

  Unfortunately, the beast had already shifted its focus back to the hunters. And before Kit or her uncle could collect their wits, the leucrotta leaped from its hiding place.