A Warden Born (The Warden Saga Book 1)

by Paul Summerhayes

  “Finn?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What will we do if we catch up to those thugs?”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully, we will find Kalher, first.”

  “Maybe we should arm ourselves. I don’t want to end up like those dwarves back in Treemere.”

  “I have never been in a sword fight, before. I would be killed by any skilled warrior.”

  “Then you’ll have to stand behind me,” said Anna. Finn looked at her and, in the dim moonlight, he could see her smiling back at him. Even in this stressful situation, she had a sense of humour.

  “How are you so relaxed?” he asked.

  “When I was young, the mayor would say, ‘don’t worry about things you can’t change.’ And he’s right.”

  “The unknown worries me.”

  “That’s because you are always trying to be in control. Relax a little. We’ll find Kalher soon enough.”

  “Okay,” he tried to smile. It felt forced.

  They had walked for only a short time before they realized they were close to the Pick and Shovel. It was past midnight and they could just make out its dark shape in the distance. The lights were out.

  “Do you want to keep walking, or stay at the Pick and Shovel?” asked Finn.

  “It’s too late to wake Martha.”

  “I don’t think she’ll mind. It will give her someone to talk to.”

  “Okay. Let's knock on the back door. If she answers, we’ll stay,” said Anna.

  They left the road and walked up the dirt driveway to the rear of the inn. Before they reached the building’s back corner, Finn grabbed Anna by her arm. She froze.

  They both remained still for many long moments before Finn whispered, “Someone is talking over there.”

  “I can’t hear anything,” she replied in a low voice.

  “There is someone over there, near the stable.”

  Anna strained her ears. “I can’t hear a thing.”

  “Wait here. I will sneak around for a look.”

  “Be careful, Finn,” she said. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  He could see the genuine concern in her eyes. “I’ll be careful.”

  He crept around the corner of the inn and into the darkness, and Anna quickly lost sight of him. She stepped into the building’s shadow and remained stationary.

  Finn stuck to the shadows as he made his way to the back of the inn. The tiled courtyard looked empty, but he could hear low voices. After a moment, he located their direction. Someone was behind the stable. He snuck forward to investigate.

  Moving quietly was a natural ability most eldon developed through hunting the mountainous forests of their homeland. Finn used his skill to move silently along the side of the old timber stable. He waited for a moment and listened to what was being said. There were two voices.

  “Come on, you lazy bugger. Get up!”

  “Relax, Wolfie. What’s the hurry?”

  “The boss will skin us, if we aren’t back by sun up,” replied a voice, which must have been Wolfgang’s.

  “He won’t notice. He’s too busy with that old warden.”

  These are the bandits! They have Kalher!

  “Come on, let's go.”

  Finn peered around the corner in time to see the three bandits fade into the darkness. He was sure one was Wolfgang. They were headed southeast, away from the Kalteberg Road. Finn snuck back to where Anna waited. As he approached, she stepped out of the shadows with a relieved look on her face.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “It’s Wolfgang. He and his friends are probably the bandits who are robbing the merchants and they have Kalher.”

  “What? Is he okay?”

  “They didn’t say. I hope he is,” he said. “He can look after himself. He might be old, but he is one of the toughest people I have ever met.”

  “Do we follow, or get help?”

  “We have to follow them. They said that, if they are not back by sun up, they will be in trouble. It must be well after midnight, now, so their camp can’t be too far.”

  “Let's go, then.”

  They headed off in the same direction as the bandits, following far enough behind that they would not be easily seen. It would be a long night.

  The sun’s golden glow peered over the Cold Heart Mountains as they caught a glimpse of the three bandits just before they vanished into a wooded area. Finn and Anna picked up their pace—Finn did not want to lose the bandits in the vegetation.

  By the time they reached the woods, the sun’s first rays were over the eastern mountains and filtered down on them. The first light made Finn’s limbs suddenly feel weary. The night’s journey was finally taking its toll. He looked across at Anna to see that her normally cheerful face looked fatigued. They entered the woods and paused, listening for any sounds. The morning was quiet, however, except for a few birds that greeted the day with their cheerful songs.

  “We must be close to their camp,” whispered Finn.

  Anna remained silent, but nodded.

  After a brief rest, they continued on slowly and tried not to make any sound. Finn moved quietly through the undergrowth, but Anna’s feet seemed to find a dry stick with every step—she was not a natural woodsman.

  “Anna, you wait here. I will scout ahead for a bit,” whispered Finn.

  She nodded and slumped down beside a large tree.

  Finn stalked forward and carefully watched the ground for any sign of the bandits’ passing. Several animal trails crisscrossed through the undergrowth, but there was no sign of human footprints. After some time, he came to the realisation that they had lost the bandits’ trail.

  We must be close to their camp.

  He was bitterly disappointed with himself. They had followed them through the night, and now they had lost them. He kept low as he walked back to Anna.

  She was still where he’d left her and he smiled. She was curled up like a baby, sleeping soundly. The air was cold, so Finn removed his bedroll from his backpack and gently put it over her. She didn’t move. He brushed a stray hair from her face.

  What are we going to do now?

  He sat down beside her and lent against the tree’s trunk. Despite his efforts, he could not fight his closing eyes, and he drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  The young eldon awoke and looked around. It was late morning, and Anna was still asleep. Nothing moved.

  “Morning,” Anna said.

  “Good morning. I thought you were still asleep. How do you feel?”

  “Good, except that I am still tired and more than a little hungry.”

  “Me too. What I wouldn’t give for a bowl of Martha’s porridge, right now.” His stomach rumbled.

  “They will hear your stomach coming for miles.” Her smile was back. Finn looked at Anna. Even dirty and tired, she was still beautiful.

  She pulled some of their travel rations out of her pack and gave half to Finn. It wasn’t the tastiest meal, but it filled them up enough that they were no longer hungry. Finn washed the meal down will a long drink from his water bottle.

  “Let's have a look around and see what we can find,” said Finn. “It will be easier to track them now that the sun is up.”

  He rolled up his bedroll and tied it to his pack. Shouldering the pack, Finn point in the direct they should go. Anna followed behind him as he led the way through the vegetation. He looked at the tracks on the ground, as his grandfather had shown him many times during his childhood. Even the most sure-footed beast made mistakes and left traces of their passing. It would be almost impossible for two humans and a dwarf to totally disappear.

  They walked for some time before Finn stopped suddenly and held up his hand. A horse neighed not too far away and Finn’s heart rate sped up.

  Horses! That means people!

  They crept forward slowly through the undergrowth. The woods started to thin, a
llowing Finn to see more of the sky.

  We must be at the wood’s south-eastern edge.

  They stopped at the edge of a small gully. The edges were gentle slopes covered with small, thorny bushes and a few trees. The gully’s southern end looked like it had been a quarry at some time, as a large section of the wall had been dug out and sand- coloured rocks were scattered about. A dark mine shaft led down into the ground.

  Not far from the mine entrance sat a crude timber hut and five white, canvas tents. A covered wagon was beside the hut, and two grey mules were corralled in a pen nearby. Several people sat around a large campfire near the tents, talking and laughing.

  “This must be the mine that Martha spoke about,” Anna whispered.

  “Yeah,” said Finn. “I count eleven bandits, and Wolfgang and his two friends are lounging over there by the fire.”

  They watched for some time, observing the bandits and their activities. They were a rough-looking group of mainly humans and a few dwarves. No eldon could be seen. The bandits spoke and laughed freely and appeared to be quite relaxed. They did not seem to mourn the death of their two friends killed in Treemere the night before—the bandits’ code.

  Anna seemed to have a realization. “Why would Wolfgang travel to The Bronze Perch? If they wanted a drink, the Pick and Shovel is a lot closer to their camp.”

  “Maybe they were meeting someone, or recruiting.”

  Anna thought for a moment. “Where do you think they are holding Kalher?”

  “Probably in that hut.”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “Well, we have no weapons, except my knife, and they outnumber us,” said Finn. “We are too far from home to get help. I think we should wait for dark, sneak in there for a look, and hopefully free Kalher. What do you think?”

  “This may be our only chance of rescuing him,” she agreed. “I don’t see their leader, the eldon, anywhere.”

  “He might be in the hut as well,” said Finn. “We can take turns watching. I’ll go first and you can rest. Try to sleep—it maybe another long night.”

  Chapter 11

  Anna snuck back into the woods and rolled out her bedroll amongst a large clump of ferns. She lay down and waited to take her watch. Even though she was tired, she felt unable to sleep, there were so many things running through her head. She was worried about Kalher and she wanted Finn to think she was pulling her weight. Her pride kept her going, even though she was physically and mentally exhausted. If Finn saw hope, so could she.

  Finn crawled on his stomach through the undergrowth to a position that allowed him to see as much of the camp as he could. Many bandits walked over to a fat dwarf, who ladled out a thin soup into wooden bowls, and the men and dwarves sat around the fire and ate their midday meal. The cook filled two bowls, carried it to the hut, said something, and the door opened from inside by someone Finn couldn’t see. A few moments later, the cook returned empty-handed to his duties at the fire.

  After their meal, the bandits cleaned up their dishes. Finn noticed that no one put the fire out and guessed they weren’t worried about being discovered.

  I guess anyone in the area would think it is the miners’ fire and wouldn’t investigate.

  Finn watched the bandits move around the camp and saw that Wolfgang had some kind of authority among his peers. He barked an order and the bandits jumped to their assigned tasks. After he finished his meal, he dropped his bowl into the washing tub and entered the closest tent to the hut. He did not come out again.

  As the afternoon wore on, Finn continued to watch the bandits. Some sharpened their weapons or repaired their equipment, and others just lay around and slept. There was nothing happening and Finn could not see any reason to wake Anna. She looked so tired that he thought she should sleep longer, so he continued to watch. It would give him time to come up with a rescue plan, anyway.

  How do we rescue Kalher? I can’t fight all these bandits.

  Finn was full of self-doubt and he worried about his ability to save his friend and mentor.

  He awoke with a start. Something felt wrong. He was disoriented and unsure of where he was.

  “Hello, sleepy head,” said a voice beside him. Finn relaxed when he saw that it was Anna, who sat beside him and smiled. “You must have dozed off.”

  “What time is it?” asked Finn.

  “It’s almost dark.”

  “Crap! How long have I been asleep?”

  “I’m not sure. I have only been awake for a short time,” replied Anna. “There’s no problem—I would have woken you if there was. I haven’t seen Kalher or the eldon leader, but the bandits have just started moving about. It looks something may be happening.”

  As they looked down into the clearing, the sun dipped below the treetops, creating long shadows. The bandits moved about the camp and many of them pulled on leather vests or readied their weapons.

  “Looks like they are preparing for a fight,” whispered Finn.

  The dwarf cook had harnessed one of the mules to the wagon and brought it around to the front of the hut. He stopped the wagon near the fire.

  The door of the hut opened, and Finn subconsciously held his breath. Although the light was fading, he could clearly see that the person was a tall, thin eldon. He was middle-aged, and his long, black hair had just started to grey. A heavy cutlass hung from his belt and he wore a vest of chainmail.

  The eldon leader left the hut and walked to the fire to stand with his men. He spoke with them for a short time, when a shout from the darkness alerted the bandits that someone was approaching their camp. The bandits looked uneasy and many of them rested their hands on their weapons. The air was tense.

  Three large shapes moved out of the growing darkness and into the firelight. Finn was surprised to see that they were brown-skinned orcs. They were massive, compared to the humans—not as tall as Garm, but heavily muscled. Their round, ugly heads contained large mouths with stained teeth. Their thick necks were made of large cords of muscles, and their shoulders were broad and powerful. The lead orc had a hideous scar that ran from his chin, up his left cheek, and under a leather patch over his eye.

  Finn had seen very few orcs in his life, and they were known to be bloodthirsty and dim-witted savages. They were never welcome in any civilized place, and only the most ruthless men would have any dealings with them.

  “This is not good,” said Finn.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think that orc is Krulta One-Eye.”

  “Who?”

  “In my village, Krulta One-Eye is a well-known orc war chief,” said Finn. “He’s a brutal killer and kills for pleasure—including women and children.”

  “What’s he doing here? We’re a long way from the mountains.”

  “Not far enough, it would seem.”

  From their vantage point on the ridge, it was obvious that the bandits feared or mistrusted the orcs, they kept their distance as the outsiders moved into the camp. The largest, Krulta, carried a broad, two-headed battle axe, and his two companions had heavy cleavers—the preferred weapon of an orc—hanging from their belts. All three wore heavy chainmail shirts.

  They could not hear what was being said, so Finn nodded to Anna and they slowly crept closer, crawling from bush to bush down the side of the clearing.

  The bandit leader stepped forward and greeted the orcs. “Well met, Krulta.” He extended his hand for the orc to shake.

  “What news do you have, Tharr?” demanded Krulta, who ignored the eldon’s outstretched hand.

  Tharr lowered his hand and looked nervous. “It all goes as planned. We are about to rob another merchant for the last of the ingredients.”

  Krulta leant forward and brought his face close to Tharr’s. “If you fail, the master will not be happy.” It sounded like a threat.

  “We won’t fail. We haven’t, yet.”

  “Luckily for you, eldon,” Krulta looked around the camp. “Where’s the spy you caught?”

&n
bsp; “Wolfgang, bring the warden,” commanded Tharr.

  Wolfgang walked quickly to the hut and disappeared inside. A moment later, he reappeared with Kalher, who was gagged and had his hands tied in front of him. Wolfgang half-dragged, half-walked Kalher to Tharr and Krulta, while the rest of the bandits looked on in silence.

  The orc roughly ripped off Kalher’s gag. “Who sent you here?”

  In the firelight, it appeared that Kalher had been beaten. His lips had been split and his right eye was black and swollen shut. He did not appear to have heard the orc, as he did not respond.

  Krulta grabbed the front of Kalher’s shirt and drew him close. “Who knows about us?” The orc shook the warden and the old man’s legs went wobbly.

  “No… no one knows,” Kalher managed to say as he struggled in the orc’s grip. He grabbed at Krulta’s neck with his tied hands.

  “You old dog!”

  In one swift action, Krulta swung his axe, one-handed, through the air and beheaded the warden in a single stroke. Blood sprayed into the air as the orc released his grip on Kalher’s corpse, it slumped to the ground. His head landed several yards away with a wet thud.

  “No!” someone screamed. It took a moment for Finn to realise that it was Anna.

  Krulta pointed his bloody axe in their direction. “More spies! Get them!”

  The bandits hesitated for a moment before jumping into action and running up the slope toward their hiding spot. Finn was not sure if they could be seen in the semi-darkness, but he quickly formed a plan.

  “Hide here. I will draw them away.” Without waiting for an answer, he stood and ran into the woods. He hoped the bandits would not find her.

  “There he is!” someone shouted. Finn ran harder.

  Kalher, I have failed you. I should have found you sooner.

  Finn ran wildly through the dark woods. He tripped and fell several times, but sprang his feet quickly and kept running. He ignored the branches hitting his face and body. He felt numb.

  Kalher is dead!