Elf Killers

by Phipps, Carol Marrs

  "Oisin!" cried Olloo as he came running. "We've got to help Kieran!" He paused for a couple of pants. "Lulach slipped over the side of the rock. Kieran has her, but he can't manage to pull her up. He may have hurt his leg. Come on!"

  Oisin sprang to his feet. They found Kieran stretched out on his belly on a narrow ledge, down the face of the east side, straining to hang onto Lulach's wrists. "If I can get down there feet first, I can lean back against the rock and pull her straight up," he said. "You go down at the same time, right over there and help him up."

  Olloo gave a nod. "Hoy, Kieran!" he hollered. "We're on our way down!"

  Soon Lulach was sitting in Doona's lap, shuddering with leftover sobs. Doona looked up for a moment with an admiring smile for Oisin.

  "It'll be a struggle," he said, staring out across the grass. “Tea would be nice. We've got to find water first thing..."

  "Look!" cried one of the older boys as he waved to everyone and pointed off the south end of the rock. "Two shawkyn spooghey, right where we climbed up. They're trying to get up to us."

  "Don't worry, Mayl," said Olloo as he peered over the edge. "They may be long legged, but they can't climb rocks..." Suddenly he fell silent at the sight of two enormous black and white birds, twisting and yanking with their black-crested heads as they ripped off and swallowed great chunks of meat from the carcass of the young strike falcon Oisin had shot.

  "Looks like they forgot all about us, aye Olloo?"

  "I'll bet not," he said with a shudder.

  "Is there more than one kind of shawk spoogh? They're 'way bigger than the one they're eating."

  "No Mayl. The one they're eating is just a young one.”

  "But that means that they're eating their own kind. What sort of bird would do that?"

  "One we'll have to be right careful with, is all I know."

  Dyr was awake just before the shivering owl outside the Hooter Cave gave its first call of the evening. He threw back his quilt of Elf scalps and shuffled outside to the fire pit. He gave a glance about at the heavens. "Tonight we-go jump-bite grab-up-squeakers-at the endless eye-sting-water," he said with a decisive nod. "This-time maybe they no-be hee-hee-gone." He returned to where Fnarry-irrny still lay sleeping and yanked away the quilt, making her sit up with a gasp.

  He knelt over her as she grabbed for the cover. "Aah!" he said, pointing to his open mouth. "Aah!"

  "Has anyone whump-whumped the fire yet?" she said, turning away from him to wrap herself with the quilt.

  "No," he said as he thrust his face at her collarbone, pushing her off balance.

  "If that be your-face, it snuff-snuff like old bird-egg-smears and old-old rump," she said as she shoved him away with her foot. "I need fire for your grab-up-squeaker-meat..."

  "I'll whump-whump the fire," he said as he grabbed her by the hair and licked her neck, "but I be Thunder-man and I can make you see stars." He tramped out to find anything easy which he could toss on the coals.

  Fnarry-irrny thrust out her tongue at his back.

  Dyr stayed out by the fire, pitching in sticks and fuming until sows from further back in the Hooter Cave began arriving with larger pieces of wood to add. He stepped up onto his rock, folded his arms and ignored Fnarry-irrny as she went about muttering to herself, hopelessly scorching the roast.

  "You have diggy-fingered your nose at Dyr more than he can ever hum-de-dumdle, Fnanar," said Fnarry-irrny as she furtively looked out the mouth of the Hooter Cave. "Either giggle-grab one of your old humper-sows and move-out (we've got piles-and-piles of beads for-this) or head-smash Dyr and new-be Thunder-man. You be quick-quick scratchy-head. He'll be-back to thunder-thump you all to head-smash, anytime."

  Fnanar rumbled beneath his beetle-brow. "Old humper-sows no-be swell-out

  milk-sows!" he roared, flinging out his arms and slinging spittle. "No one can thunder-make me giggle-grab ho-hum-sows!"

  Fnarry-irrny stumbled into the cave wall to catch her balance. "Then jump-bite him all to head-smash. Set-loose all Dyrney. New-be Thunder-man and have sows-and-sows right-here, even big-big milk-sow. I'll scoot my-mat and my-beads right-over here. Dyr's rock will-be your rock."

  "Yea!" he said as he snorted, twisting up his face to make believe he was wringing Dyr's neck. A smile spread over his face as he shared a look of understanding with Fnarry-irrny. "She rocky-arm huggy-holds me more than Dyr or even Fnana-fnyr!" he thought. "I always rolly-eye scratchy-chin, but now I big-head-nod." He threw out his chest and pummeled it as the hairs on his arms bristled. "Ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot!"

  He froze wide-eyed at the clink of one small stone being rolled against another. He raised a finger to his lips and tiptoed to the mouth of the cave. Suddenly he had Fnana-fnyr by the neck on the floor.

  "All right rump-jaws!" cried Fnana-fnyr. "I'm all floppy-arm. You can let-go."

  "You need-be gag-twisty eye-pop for hollow-head hee-hee-sneak!" snarled Fnanar, showering him with spittle.

  "Fnanar!" cried Fnarry-irrny. "Dyr could jump-bite you before you get-up.”

  "Yea?" said Fnanar, sitting back on his haunches to point at Fnana-fnyr. "Well-then keep him all hunker-down and snuffle-shhhh until I head-smash Dyr.”

  "Head-smash Dyr?" cried Fnana-fnyr, getting up on an elbow. "Dyr be your da!"

  "I be your fmoo," said Fnarry-irrny as she tramped him flat again with her heel. "And I say stay out-of this."

  "But that be hee-hee-sneak!" cried Fnana-fnyr.

  "And so-be this-one!" roared Fnanar as he knocked Fnana-fnyr cold with a furious punch in the temple.

  "This is where we must part ways," thought Radella to everyone as she gave a deep curtsey. "This is the very spot where we left your young ones. If all went well, they'll be at Carraig Faire making their first efforts to survive the Great Strah."

  "We're certainly grateful, Radella," said Vorona. "Had you not appeared when you did, we might never have made it out, let alone find our children, since we dropped our lamp."

  "That's been my impression," thought Radella. "Now, can you manage on just a bit of star or moonlight?"

  "By all means, but of course neither gets inside Mount Sliabh."

  "I was merely worried about you all and your children. They insisted that they could manage, but young ones often get carried away describing their own abilities, don't they?"

  "Ah!" said Vorona. "Kids can get windy. They told you right, though. We just don't see nearly as well in the dark as trolls, I'm afraid. And you're right certain that they stay clear of this side of the mountains?"

  "You've no fears about them," thought Radella. "Just make certain that you reach Carraig Faire before daylight. Now we must take our leave. Fates' speed to the lot of you." And with deep curtseys from each of them, the Sprites filed back into the cleft, leaving the Elves to face the Strah.

  Chapter 8

  The sun had just settled out of sight beyond the Eternal mountains as a dickcissel and a vesper sparrow called from somewhere in the grass just below Carraig Faire.

  "After all the darkness in Mount Sliabh, I would never have imagined I'd be relieved to see the sun go down," said Doona, as she felt of her sunburnt nose, "but what are we going to do about water? We used the very last of it when we got up here this morning."

  "Well, I know there's water out there close to the surface because I could tell it when we walked here last night," said Oisin. "All I need is some kind of switch to find where to dig. The real problem is getting it up here." He sat up on his heels and studied the grass. "I think... Doona, we'd better decide right now if we're going to stay here or go on, while there's still enough light to get the little ones down off this rock."

  "Where to?" said Olloo.

  Doona wrinkled her brow and gave a big wave. Everyone gathered 'round and got quiet at once. She nodded at Oisin.

  "We need to use this night," he said, looking down to scratch on the sandstone as he found his words. "We have to decide if we're going to try to live here or if we are going to travel on som
ewhere. At this point, any choice we make will probably be the hardest thing we ever set out to do, so we'll have to have our hearts set beyond doubt..."

  "You mean somewhere further east?" said Olloo.

  "Perhaps, or south, maybe..."

  "We seem to be safe enough up here," said Doona. "Isn't there some way we could settle here?"

  Oisin sighed and returned to scratching the sandstone. "Oh, this is undoubtedly the safest place in the entire Strah, but we're already out of water, we're all sunburnt and we have no shelter at all, and getting anything up here is going to be a poser. We don't have a rope or anything."

  "And no strike falcons," said Lilee as she fiddled with a string she was braiding.

  "Does anyone have anything to add?" he said.

  "We don't exactly have carpentry tools, you know," said Kieran. "And what do we have to build with out here, anyway, grass? Grass huts really ought to keep out the strike falcons."

  "Even those would need timber for some kind of frame," said Olloo.

  "Yea?" said Alister. "Sod wouldn't."

  "Good point," said Olloo.

  "Even a sod house still needs trusses, purlins and ridgepoles," said Kieran.

  "So what?" said Alister. "Wouldn't sod walls keep us safe until we could get to the woods for timber? And we've got grass for thatch, so we wouldn't need wood for shingles..."

  "Oh go on,” said Kieran. "What kind of tools...?"

  "This spade!" cried Alister. "I hope I didn't drag it all the way out here for nothing. And we've got another one, too. Who asked you anyway, Kieran?"

  "Doona and I did," said Oisin. "It's only fair to have everyone's opinion."

  "Well if you want mine," said Alister, "I think it's real good and stupid to head off into grass full of shawkyn spooghey with no water. How come our ancestors chose to live by the trolls instead of out there, anyway?"

  "Let's take a vote and get this over with," said Olloo.

  Oisin went from face to face. Everyone wanted to stay.

  Kieran caught Doona's adoring look as she nodded her head to Oisin. "Yea," he said dryly as he looked at his feet. "It's stupid to try for anyplace else...now."

  "So how do we get water up here?" said Lilee as she knotted the end of her string.

  "Where'd you get that?" said Oisin with a nod at her hands.

  "This? Oh, there's some kind of plant with spines on the ends of its fat leaves. I kept seeing it in the grass on the way here. When I snapped off the spines, I got these long strings of fibers. They're really strong. They've got to be at least as tough as flax..."

  "Wonderful!" he cried. He stood up to address everyone. "Lilee has found what we need to make ropes. In the meantime, Alister and Olloo are going to come with me and dig a well. As soon as we have water, the rest of you make a queue down the way we climbed up and hand up water bottles from person to person." He turned and pointed out across the grass. "It's getting dark, but can anyone still see the elk way out yonder? We may be stuck with just water bottles until tomorrow night, but I'll bet by then I ought to be able to have an elk skinned for a water tub. For now, don't anyone leave this rock without me being along with this bow."

  The full moon had not yet peeped over the tops of the Eternal Mountains when Dyr and his troll-brutes quietly appeared in the shadows between the red maidenhair trees overlooking the Elven camp across the beach. Calls of purple-ribs filled the air. He studied the camp closely as he waited for the last of the brutes to get into position. Suddenly he saw that there were no ships. His eyes darted nervously over the tents. The corner of one of them had fallen in. There was no sign of unicorns outside anywhere. "Duda!" he murmured as he slowly sat back in the sprangling maidenhair ferns. "Jyga duda, duda. I should have made a sacrifice. Jyga Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne please forgive me."

  Dyr remembered the very night when he took down his uncle Dyyp and became Thunder-man. Thunder-man Dyyp had also made this very mistake. He had raided the great Elven castle of Baile Gairdin, and had gone back the next night without at least paying thanks to Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne by roasting someone's first son and feeding him to the raiding Dyrney-brutes beforehand. Dyyp was trying to blame someone else for there not being any Elves, but Shaman Dyr-jiny called him down in front of his own brutes. Dyyp tried to kill Dyr-jiny to silence him, but Dyr saved Dyr-jiny by killing Dyyp.

  Dyr threw his face down into the leaves. "Forgive me, Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne." he quietly squealed into the moss and the roots of the ferns. "I was crossy-arm wide-eyed big-nod that the Dyrney-brutes juicy-eating Dyyp was still-enough for Your Thunder-big-big-bigness, so-that we-would-have your head-pat to grab-and-run these last grab-up-squeakers."

  The waves lapped lazily against the sand beyond the camp, as a purple-rib took up calling very close by. Dyr flung aside the leaves he had wadded up and sprang to his feet to furiously hammer his chest with his fists. "Ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot!" he roared into the echoing trees, silencing the purple-rib. "Dyrney-brutes!" He pummeled his chest once again. "Dyr-jiny!"

  Dyr-jiny shoved on his bear's head at once, down to his shoulders, as he jogged forth from the shadows to plant his staff in the sand and begin springing up and down, chanting, "Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo..."

  "Ay-ooo, ay-ooo, ay-ooo..." chanted Dyr as his brutes gathered round one by one and began bobbing in time. Suddenly they all froze as he leaped into the air, crying, "Ooot-ooot, ooot-ooot, ooo-ooot!" He pummeled his chest and strutted in amongst them, glaring at each one of them in turn from under his louring ledge of bristling brow. "Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne is thunder-vexed," he rumbled as he tramped about with bristling arms, hissing through his nose. "He says no grab-up-squeakers!" he suddenly roared, flinging out his arms as everyone stepped back. "Dyr-jiny!"

  Dyr-jiny started a choppy rattle with two small terrapin shells, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... as he began a dignified shuffle into their midst, shick, shick, shicka-shick, shicka-shick... Directly, he had backed everyone out into a circle and was furiously rattling, shickity-shick, shickity-shick, shickity-shick, shickity-shick, shickity-shick... By the time two burly hands were smashing stones into the trunk of a nearby red maidenhair, boont shickity-shick, boonk shickity-shick, boont shickity-shick, boonk shickity-shick, boont shickity-shick... the bright moon had risen, revealing his rivulets of sweat. On he danced, rattling high, rattling low, shickityshickityshickityshickityshickity... until suddenly he collapsed in the sand.

  "Ay-ooo!" boomed Dyr, "What-say?"

  "Juicy-champ," woofed Dyr-jiny into the sand. Boont-boonk, boont-boonk, boont-boonk, boont-boonk... went the stones. "First-kid. Dyrney-brutes juicy-champ first kid right after birth-grunts."

  There were alarmed glances amongst the brutes at this.

  "Whose first-kid?" said the wide-eyed brute with the stones.

  "Your kid, Gyrn," said Dyr-jiny. "You be Dyyp's kid, and when the Dyrney-brutes juicy-champ Dyyp, it no-be enough so..."

  "But my sow not-yet birth-grunt," he stammered, dropping his stones into the leaves.

  "She will," said Dyr-jiny as he got to his knees. "You and I will make her eat aoo-i-fnnt-nru-yuyf-yu-yuy, baby-out root until she clamp-teeth howl-out birth-grunt."

  Gyrn looked horrified, standing there, working his mouth.

  Dyr-jiny got to his feet. "You-be Dyrney-brute of standy-tall big-nod," he said, putting a fatherly hand on Gyrn's shoulder. "You not only get to juicy-champ your bite of debt-baby, but you-get to juicy-champ the whole after-birth. After that, Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne will give us grab-up-squeakers, grab-up-squeakers, grab-up-squeakers."

  Oisin took Olloo, Alister, Mayl and the two spades and set out into the dark in search of water. It took almost as long to find a forked willow sapling for a switch as it did to find water near enough to the surface to reach in one night's digging. There was indeed water nearly everywhere, but it was much too far below the surface. At last they found a nice stream of it, not much more than six feet down, nearly four fur
longs west of Carraig Faire. "If you two don't mind," he said as he took his bow off his shoulder, "I've just got this feeling, you might say, about those elk I saw from up on the rock. I want to take Olloo and see if we can't get one. Do you all feel safe here unarmed? We'll stay if you don't."

  "How would we know?" said Alister.

  "We'll stay..."

  "No. We've got this well to dig. You've got a brute to bag. We'll be right here. Don't forget us."

  Oisin handed Olloo his claymore and made off through the grass for where he thought he had last seen elk from atop the carraig. Each time they stopped, they only heard the rustling of the grass in the breeze and could see nothing more than the stars and the moon above grass taller than someone astride a unicorn. They had been discussing turning about for some time when the grass thinned out enough for them to see large dark rocks nestled in the grass ahead. Suddenly one of the rocks stood up and began to graze, yanking off mouths full with wise nods here and there as it sauntered forth. As the others got to their feet, it slowly ambled about to face Oisin and Olloo, snuffling as it grazed. Without warning it looked up. Oisin immediately loosed his arrow, planting it in the creature's brisket. With a loud snort, it toppled onto its side as the others vanished into the tall grass. Olloo was astraddle it at once, cutting its throat. Oisin nocked another arrow.

  "Oisin! Behind you!" cried Olloo, as two ghostly white strike falcons jogged out of the grass. The instant the first one of them crouched to spring, Oisin shot it in the breast, dropping it onto its keel to flap and kick, flinging blood from side to side from its beak. The second bird sprinted straight for Olloo only to dance aside at the last moment, rushing to the aid of the first one. Olloo gave a whistling swing with Oisin's claymore, slicing its thigh, causing it to stumble and weave as it made for Oisin. Oisin's last arrow went awry, spearing its other thigh. As it struggled to keep from falling, Olloo stepped up with a furious swing of the sword, neatly cleaving its head with a ping.