The Trolls eventually lost the war, the end brought about much sooner thanks in a large part to the humans’ interference. But, even in their defeat, the tribes still spoke of returning to the Southern Forests one day to complete their rampage, and to exterminate the Elves from Tir’an. The Trollish people were beaten, but they were far from defeated. Warriors from birth, the Trolls were killers, plain and simple. Death, either their own or others, meant little to them.
Smash was the exception. He had never been able to understand his own people. He could never understand the need to kill and to hurt for no reason, for no purpose. He understood that it was sometimes necessary to kill to protect oneself or one’s family. He understood the need to kill to survive. But, killing just for the perverse joy it gave, the need to bathe in the blood of your enemies? These were things he could never understand. It was one of the reasons that he had chosen not to return to those mountain tribes when he was freed from slavery. His people would take his capture as weakness. A true warrior fought to the death. He knew that he could never go back, that his survival and his views would leave him ostracized and apart from his people, if they didn’t just kill him outright. No, better to live amongst creatures he understood. And, as he thought of his companions, he knew deep inside that he had made the right choice. Unfortunately, none of that wisdom made the stories any less difficult to hear.
No, thought Smash. Better to excuse myself quietly than listen to the horrors my people brought down upon their neighbours. Besides, it’s a nice night for a walk in the forest.
Logan watched his friend excuse himself from the fire and he understood the big man’s motives. The Elfin stories had to be hard for him to hear. Even Logan was finding them a little much, but then warrior tales were often embellished. Yes, the Elves spoke of his father, and their obvious respect for the man was an honour, but they also gloried in the battles, in the victories and the blood. Logan didn’t think his father would have approved. Hagar had never spoken of his time in the war, though Logan and Tanel both knew that the things he had seen and done had haunted him for the rest of his life. They had heard him wake crying out in the night, listened to Tess calm him. Their father had believed that he had done what was necessary - necessary to protect his people and his family, necessary to push back against an aggressive and deadly foe. No more, no less. It seemed to Logan that these stories of his heroics would have made his da uncomfortable, might have even saddened him. A glance at Tanel told him that she felt the same.
In an effort to be social, Logan tried to push such thoughts away and listened with interest, but as the fire burned down and the night wore on, he started to grow restless. There were still several projects at the forge he had yet to finish, things he didn’t think Smash was quite ready to take over, and unless he completely missed his guess, Lan was going to be asking him and El to return to the Elfin village with him, and that meant time was of the essence.
Do you think he will? came El’s voice in his mind.
Glancing toward her he flashed a smile.
Why else would he have come back with an entourage? he thought back.
El nodded from the other side of the campfire.
You’re probably right, she replied with a mental sigh. I guess it was too much to hope that it was just a visit.
Logan snickered to himself as he rose to his feet and circled around the fire, stopping behind El and placing a re-assuring hand on her shoulder he spoke to the group as a whole.
“My apologies, everyone!” he announced. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to call it a night. I still have a bit of work to do before bed.”
Amidst a cacophony of good nights he left the fire and made his way across the yard to the forge.
The Hunter Or The Hunted?
Le’land sat at the edge of the fire watching Logan intently, his eyes tracking him all the way to the smithy. As far as Le’land was concerned, he still had a score to settle with the short little runt of a man after the way he had humiliated him earlier. Lan’thor had told him to let it go, but what else could he be expected to say. Logan was his friend and besides Lan’thor’s judgement and choices seemed to be more than a little questionable, consorting with Trolls and such.
No, Le’land thought. I will prove to everyone that I am right.
There was no way that he would allow anyone to think that some half-breed freak could be the equal of any of the Elfin race in anything, particularly not in war craft. Elfin warriors were the elite. They were superior to all others. It was his job, his duty, to prove that fact.
Soon after Logan left, things began to quiet down around the fire. The older warriors stayed up listening as El’dreathia and Lan’thor recalled their adventures into Tael, while Tanel followed her brother’s lead and opted to call it a night. She was just in time to catch Smash as he returned from his walk in the woods and the two retired to the house together, chatting amiably.
Le’land excused himself announcing that he had to answer the call of nature and headed for the trees. No one really noted his departure, lost as they were in tales of past glory. None that is, except a solitary figure clad all in black. She had kept herself apart from the fire, had avoided the festivities and effectively slipped from the immediate awareness of the others. She moved like a ghost through the shadows as she followed the young warrior. Raeth didn’t trust the young Elf. He was too brash for his own good and, though she knew that Lan had a soft spot for him, she figured it was in everyone’s best interest if someone kept an eye on him.
When Le’land reached the tree line, he took one final look back towards the fire to assure himself that none had remarked on his absence, and then disappeared into the underbrush, prowling around so he could use the forge building itself as cover. He doubted that anyone around the fire would see him, distracted as they were, but he was an Elfin warrior and he had been taught that it was always best to be careful. Reaching the smithy he carefully prowled around the building towards the open door. Heat radiated through the walls of the small building and the sound of hammer on metal was nearly head splitting.
Reaching the open door, Le’land peered in. Before him, illuminated in the fire’s red glare, was his adversary. The short man was shirtless now and Le’land could see the muscles tighten across his back as he lifted a massive hammer in one hand before smashing it down on the glowing metal he was working. Sweat poured off of him as he maintained a steady rhythm to his hammering. The thought of working with metal repulsed Le’land, as it did any true Elf, but even he could not help watch in amazement as the metal Logan worked took shape.
But even more than the work itself, it was the man performing the work that truly amazed Le’land. He was short, shorter even than the few humans Le’land had seen, but he was very, very wide. The strange man’s shoulders were at least twice the width of his own. Earlier in the day, Le’land had thought that Logan’s clothing padded his shoulders, making the man seem wider, larger than he really was. But now, seeing him without his shirt, Le’land realized that it was just the opposite, the clothes had actually hidden him. They had worked to make Logan seem somehow smaller than he really was. What was this creature, Le’land wondered to himself?
Le’land shook his head, shaking off any doubts before they could take root. There was no doubting that the man before him was strong but that didn’t change what had to be done. Carefully reaching down, Le’land’s fingers touched the hilt of the bone dagger at his waist. Elfin honour would be defended.
“Please, don’t.”
The voice was gruff and it caught Le’land by surprise. How had he known that he was there? Had he heard him approach?
Impossible, Le’land thought. There was no way he could have heard me, not with all that clanging.
Putting on a brave face Le’land covered his surprise as best he could.
“Afraid to die?” He sneered at Logan’s back.
Logan casually lowered the metal he was working with a pair of tongs, quenching it in a ne
arby barrel of water. He held the large forge hammer loosely at his side and turned to face the young warrior, his face was stony as he spoke,
“I wasn’t speaking to you, lad.”
Gesturing with his chin, Logan indicated to something behind Le’land. Eyeing the large hammer apprehensively and afraid he was being tricked, yet too curious to resist, Le’land carefully moved to steal a glance behind him. What he saw stopped him cold. Suddenly dry, his mouth fell open in shock and his face went pale. A black clad figure with midnight eyes stared back at him - Lan’thor’s pet assassin. Her gaze was cold and deadly. If Le’land had felt fear before, now he was terrified.
Gods, he thought. How did she get so close?
“It’s all right, Raeth,” said Logan. “I think Le’land just came here to talk. Didn’t you, Le’land?”
Le’land swallowed hard and finally just nodded dumbly.
“You see, nothing to worry about,” Logan continued. “You should probably get back before Lan starts to wonder what happened to you.”
Raeth kept her gaze on the young Elf for a few more moments before moving it to Logan. She nodded quickly at him and Le’land saw a flash of metal as she returned something to her sleeve. Le’land’s eyes went wide again.
“Was that…” the Elf trailed off in disbelief.
Logan chuckled and the Elf shot a quick glance in his direction. When Le’land returned his gaze to the assassin he found she was gone. Le’land tracked left and right trying to find some sign of her. Again the man at the forge chuckled.
“Good luck. She’s long gone.”
Le’land turned to face him.
“But, how?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say she’s likely been following you since you left the fire.”
Le’land stammered as he tried to make his thoughts clear.
“That’s not possible! I mean... I’m an Elf, she would never have been able to follow me all that way and definitely not without me hearing her!”
Logan started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself. He just couldn’t keep it in any longer. It had just simply been one of those days.
Logan, what’s going on? came El’s voice sharply in his head.
Nothing, dear, he replied teasingly and attempted to pull himself under control. The young Elf before him looked positively stricken to find himself the object of ridicule.
“I’m sorry, Le’land,” Logan managed sincerely. “I don’t mean to laugh. Come and sit, I think you and I need to talk.”
The Elf hesitated.
“Don’t worry,” he added with a smile. “When we’re done if you still want to teach me a lesson you’ll get your chance.”
Pulling out two rough stools Logan sat and gestured for the other to take one. Cautiously, Le’land sat, warily watching the shorter man.
“You’ve probably heard the story,” Logan began. “But, when Lan’thor and I first met, there was no love lost between us. In fact we ended up in a pretty vicious fight that nearly cost us both our lives.”
Logan was silent for a moment, lost in the memory.
“Anyway, thankfully we survived,” he finally continued with a smile. “That fight taught us a lot. It took both of our egos down a few pegs. Taught us that different did not automatically mean bad and it taught us to respect each other. From that respect, a friendship was built. Lan’thor joined me on my quest and we crossed most of Tir’an together. We fought side-by-side and that tentative friendship became forged in stone. To this day, we’re more like brothers.”
Le’land blanched at the thought and Logan smiled at him.
“I know what you’re thinking. An Elf from a pure and noble family like Lan’thor’s connected with a whatever-the-Hades I am, it goes against everything your people are taught about the rest of the world. But, regardless, it’s true,” Logan idly spun the heavy forge hammer in his hand as he spoke. “You fight beside someone long enough, you bleed with them and save each other’s posteriors time and time again and that feeling grows. It has to, if it didn’t you would never trust them at your back. And, when all the odds are against you, you can’t afford to doubt your friends. That’s a lesson Lan’thor and I learned well, and it’s a lesson that has kept us alive.”
The Elf before him was still rigid, clearly uncomfortable with this line of conversation, but Logan hoped that he was starting get through to him.
“Now, Lan’thor has told me that he sees promise in you, that you remind him of himself from once upon a time. To be fair, I can definitely attest to the fact that you’re about as pig-headed and stubborn as he used to be.”
Le’land opened his mouth to retort but Logan waved him off as he continued. “But, if you have anything close to the talent he thinks you have, then you have the potential to be a great warrior. And, between you and me, and don’t ever tell Lan’thor I said this, but, he is just about the best teacher you could have.”
Le’land frowned and prepared to disagree but again Logan continued before he had the chance.
“That Elf you so carelessly call a coward has fought Goblin hordes, Trolls, human soldiers and mages in helping me to complete my quest. He has had my back countless times and has saved it on more than one occasion, and I’ve done the same for him.” Logan smiled reassuringly at the Elf. “It’s a big, nasty world and there are plenty of people in it who would gladly see you come to harm. Stop trying to alienate the ones who wouldn’t.”
Having said his piece, Logan sat back and regarded the Elfin warrior beside him. Le’land simply stared back at him. Logan had no idea if any of what he’d said had gotten through to the boy.
Well at least I tried, he thought to himself.
Getting up from his chair he stretched out his back and looked back at the Elf.
“So, still wanting to teach me that lesson?”
Le’land continued to stare at the man before him, his eyes searching though Logan had no idea what he was looking for. Finally, the young warrior got to his feet.
“No,” Le’land said slowly. “Not tonight.”
Logan nodded at the Elf and watched him leave. As Le’land reached the doors to the smithy Logan spoke again.
“Lan’thor and I will probably train come morning. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
The Elfin warrior turned and looked back at Logan, nodding once before stepping into the night.
Well, came Hephaestus’ deep rumbling voice in Logan’s head. You handled that much better than I was expecting.
Logan simply smiled, picked up his forge hammer and turned back to his work.
Training!
Despite staying up late the previous night, Lan’thor and Logan immediately fell into their old routine. Both were naturally early risers and this day was no different. They were up with the rising sun and began their morning workout as they usually did, fully armed. They set off on a good run through the forest trails that surrounded the property. The two friends maintained a steady pace along the trails managing, for the most part, to stay side by side. Both knew that Lan’thor, with his much longer legs, could easily outdistance his friend, but that wasn’t the point of the run. They ran for the benefit of warming their bodies in preparation for the workout to come and as an opportunity to catch up with each other’s lives. Both had long since left their competitive tendencies behind them, at least when it came to running.
They were only a few minutes into their run when they heard a third set of footfalls on the path behind them. Logan smiled at the sound.
“I asked someone to join us,” he said quietly to Lan. “I hope you don’t mind?”
Lan’thor cast his friend a quick quizzical glance before shrugging his acceptance. Within a few minutes Le’land had caught up with them. Lan flashed Logan another look, this time in surprise. Logan smiled again before addressing the young Elf.
“Glad you could join us.”
Le’land nodded his greeting to both as they kept running.
The run through the trails took abou
t thirty minutes and by the time the threesome had reached a small clearing in the forest, all glistened with a light sweat. The clearing was a good size for the their purpose, not so small as to inhibit movement but not so large that they didn’t have the advantage of the large surrounding trees for shade. A small creek burbled along the clearing’s edge, offering a source of clear, fresh water which both Lan and Logan had been extremely grateful for on more than one occasion. Lan’thor and Logan had found the clearing months ago, shortly after their arrival to the old Hammersmith home, during one of their many forays into the surrounding forest, and both had decided it would make the perfect training spot. Unfortunately, with Lan’s early departure, they hadn’t gotten to make as much use out of it as they’d wanted to.
With the running portion of the warm up completed, the three placed their weapons to the side of the clearing and Lan’thor took the lead, working his two companions through the warrior forms, checking and correcting their technique as necessary and offering suggestions as they went. The forms offered an opportunity to stretch out the muscles and ligaments before the heavy work began.
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