The creature flew through the air and landed with a thud on the path ahead. It got up and dusted itself down, making growly noises that sounded like complaints.
“Minkle!” Albin exclaimed, delighted, and he scooped up the furry bear. “How did you find me?” The creature nuzzled into the boy’s neck and his beady black eyes shot the half-elf a dirty look over his master’s shoulder.
“What’s a Minkle? And why is it looking at me like that?”
Felis chuckled. “He’s Albin’s pet; a bear of some sort. And he probably didn’t like the way you just flung him half way across the forest!”
“Don’t exaggerate,” grumbled the half-elf. “And anyway, he took me by surprise- he came at me from nowhere!”
Much to everyone’s amusement, the bear stuck out his little pink tongue and waggled it rudely.
“As the future King of Elms-haven, I could have you locked away for your insolence!” the half-elf said, tears of laughter in his own eyes, but no-one knew whether or not he was joking.
Now that he was reunited with Minkle, Albin felt able to relax and enjoy the journey again. He was learning so much from these well-travelled men and he wanted to see even more of the Kingdom. He was most comfortable around Felis, who had become something of a grandfather figure to him. He would always be grateful for the way he had helped him resolve his problem with the royal rubies and that got the young boy thinking.
“Do you think the person trying to kill Dannymere stole the rubies first?” he asked, as he rode behind the old fighter through the forest.
“I would bet my last coin on it,” Felis said. “They probably thought the coronation would be delayed –or aborted- without the jewels for the crown. But you should get used to calling his royal highness by his true name- Arius Evergreen.”
The half-elf groaned. “This is daft. I am not Arius Evergreen. Please call me Dannymere.”
“If my liege would like to be known as Dannymere, then Dannymere he shall be… at least until we get him home,” Felis said tightly but when he saw Hugo smirking, the corners of his own mouth began to turn up.
“Anyway,” said Borin, refusing to be drawn into the same debate, “how long until we leave this forest?”
Felis rummaged in his bag and brought out a map. He studied it and his surroundings for a long time.
“How will that help?” Albin whispered to Borin who was riding next to him. “Everything looks the same!”
“Not quite,” Borin replied. “There are clues everywhere if you know where to look. Have you noticed the trees are less dense? We’ve been able to canter a lot today and we’ve been riding two abreast. The path is wider as we approach the edge.”
“Yes, but there are so many paths going this way and that- how does he know which to take?”
“It’s a mighty good map!” Felis called back over his shoulder. “If we keep going, we should be out by nightfall.”
The group rode hard all afternoon, spurred on by the thought of reaching Lenspar. It was the smallest of the twelve regions, and had a reputation for being quaint and backwards-thinking, but all anybody wanted was to escape the forest.
The men were dreaming of open spaces and sleeping under the stars when Minkle suddenly jumped onto a tree branch and began waving his paws in the air. It looked like he was dancing and the mercenaries found it funny but then Felis held up a hand to silence their laughter. He used further hand signals to instruct them to draw their weapons.
In a matter of seconds, they saw dark figures crashing through the trees behind them, hot on their trail. “Not again,” muttered Hugo when he saw their milky white eyes.
“Arius, get behind me!” Felis commanded, as he wheeled around to take the fight to the enemy.
“Who?” asked the half-elf sarcastically, kicking his horse forward to overtake him.
Felis grunted as he realised he could not stop the half-elf from joining the fight. “The King will have my hide if anything happens to him,” he muttered angrily. “Albin, hold on tight- you hear?”
Albin wrapped both arms around his waist and screwed his eyes shut. The clash of steel on steel rang through the air as they engaged the enemy and the shouts of the men echoed between the trees.
The cursed men were on foot so the mercenaries had the advantage of height. Borin tugged hard on Duchess’s reins to make her rear up and kick one of the assailants in the head. She sensed that this pleased her master so she spun around and did the same to another, earning a grateful pat on the neck.
Dannymere was pumping with adrenaline. The last few weeks had been rough on him and he unleashed his pent up frustration at the enemy; making him a force to be reckoned with. He cut and slashed; left and right, hardly aware of his comrades on the path around him.
When Albin finally opened his eyes to chance a look, he was in awe of the half-elf’s skills and strength. Then he saw what he most dreaded. Other figures were appearing between the distant trees and they were carrying bows. “Arrows!” he warned.
“There are too many- make a break for it!” Felis commanded.
Albin experienced a surge of panic as the horse shot into a gallop and the speed took his breath away. He was gripping the horse so tightly that his legs were beginning to burn but to fall off now would mean certain death. All around the arrows were flying.
“Stay low!” Borin yelled.
Albin heard the whistling of an arrow as it whizzed past his ear and then the ‘thwack’ as it embedded itself into the trunk of a tree up ahead. The tree, angered by its injury, pulled up its roots and planted itself in the centre of the path. “Uh-oh,” said Albin, who saw it first.
The tree was blocking the path ahead and the horses had to screech to a halt before they collided with the trunk. The men looked up and watched in horror as two enormous branches started to move like strong arms. Albin was swept up before anyone could save him.
Hugo was about to attack the tree when Felis challenged his blade with his own. “What are you doing?” Hugo asked incredulously.
“Saving us,” Felis hissed. “Don’t move!”
Albin was lifted higher and higher until he could no longer see his friends below. The tree raised him up above the forest canopy so that he could clearly see the rolling fields of Lenspar and the wispy smoke of distant dwellings and he badly wanted to get there.
It was so calm and quiet up there that he was not frightened. He imagined that he was a bird, touching the clouds with his wings. He briefly wondered if the tree was intending to drop him and crush him like an ant but he did not really think so: he did not sense a threat.
Albin did not know if the tree would understand him but he felt the need to speak. He took a deep breath then he started to explain how the arrow had come from their pursuers- and not from his friends- and how their pursuers were under a spell cast by an evil sorcerer, seeking to kill the prince of Elms-haven. At the mention of the elven land, the tree gave a shudder of understanding and in the next instant, the boy was going down again.
The other men watched in fascination as the tree lowered Albin back down and gently placed him on the horse, just behind Felis. None of them dared to speak but then the branches were moving away from them. The attackers had caught up and now they were readying their weapons.
The tree gave a mighty shake and swiped its branches left and right, sweeping the enemies aside. Bones cracked on impact and bodies crashed into the undergrowth. One of the cursed men had fitted an arrow and was about to let it fly when the tree picked him up and pulled his arm off. The man screamed as he too was tossed aside.
Within mere minutes, there was no-one left for the tree to fight. It picked up its roots once more and withdrew back to its place at the side of the path, leaving the way free for the group.
Nobody moved or uttered a word. Albin felt the weight of their wonder and decided to break the silence. “Well at least we know our merchant was right about the trees.”
“What h-h-happened up there?” Dannymere stammered.
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“Not a lot. I just told the tree the truth.” Albin continued to feel the burn of their stares as they cantered down the path and out of the forest; into the freedom of the night.
Chapter 12
The Truth of the Matter
Lenspar was a region of fertile farmlands and countryside, and it was the perfect place for the men to boost their dwindling supplies. Hugo used his bow to shoot pheasants, grouse and rabbits while the other men picked nuts and berries. They did not have the equipment for fishing but Albin taught them how to tickle trout right out of the stream.
“I never knew you could get a trout like this,” Hugo said, his arms in the water up to his elbows as he felt around for his next fish.
“Me either,” Borin admitted, impressed.
“There must be elven blood in you,” Felis chuckled as he landed a large trout and watched it flop around on the ground. “I know I’ve said it before but you just continue to surprise me, Albin. You have a bear for a pet; you talk to trees and you can even persuade the fish to feed us!”
Dannymere laughed. “Albin’s more elf than me- perhaps he should be the next King of Elms-haven.”
Everyone, except Albin, found this funny. “Ah stop it,” he said, embarrassed. “I just grew up in the country, that’s all.”
“You must feel right at home here,” Borin remarked later, once they had dried and wrapped the fish, and put them in the saddle bags.
“I guess so,” said the boy, “but my village wasn’t far from town so there were always people coming and going. It’s much quieter here.”
“You’ve been away a long time. If you ever want to talk…” Borin left the suggestion hanging in the air.
“Thanks,” Albin said, touched by the gesture. As he took his place behind Felis, his mind wandered back to his home and his family. He missed his parents but he did not want to return just yet. He felt that his adventure had only just started and that there was a lot more to learn before he could go back and confidently call himself a man.
To his left, just above eye-level, Minkle was jumping from tree to tree, keeping up with the men. The creature smiled to himself. He did not want to go home yet either.
The men made good progress that day for there were frequent opportunities to canter. They barely saw another human being until dusk when up ahead, a shepherd with a crooked staff opened a wooden gate and ushered through a flock of sheep. There was another gate opposite and the group waited patiently for the thirty-something sheep to cross the path in front of them like a woolly blizzard. The shepherd doffed his cap to them in appreciation before disappearing through the gate and securing it behind him. Albin was fed up of riding. He walked behind the horses, watching their tails twitch from side to side, wondering if he would ever be an accomplished rider like the other men.
Borin rode next to Felis as they wound their way down the hill. “So how long have you been an elf-friend?” he asked.
“Many more years than I care to remember. With the events of the last few weeks I can honestly say that I have started to feel my age.”
“I’m guessing that the elves are pretty choosy when it comes to picking their friends. Do you mind if I ask how you earned your amulet?”
“Ah,” said Felis. “To understand that, I must tell you a bit about my past. I haven’t always been a mercenary; I used to be a bounty hunter. King Aspen heard, through the grapevine, that I was good at finding people quickly and he asked for my help.”
“Someone was missing?”
“Not someone but something. A family heirloom had gone from the palace. You may find it hard to believe but I turned him down at first. I didn’t think I could help but Aspen convinced me that finding people and objects were one and the same thing. That was the start of our acquaintance.”
“You found the heirloom and the amulet was your reward?”
“It took a while but I eventually tracked down the heirloom- and the brigand who stole it- but I was paid in gold. It was another forty years before I was named an elf-friend. It is not a title bestowed lightly, Borin. Ours is a long acquaintance.”
“Knowing that makes me even more curious about my amulet,” Borin admitted. “I haven’t done anything to help the elves. Perhaps it’s all just a big mistake.”
“No. The amulet helped you to save Arius. Perhaps it was never intended as a reward for what you had done but a reward for what you would do. Delivering the sole heir back to Elms-haven is a huge task.”
“And what about Hugo- has he worked for the elves before?”
“This is his first time. I told the elves that I would only accept the job if he came with me. His leaf is on loan. It must be returned as soon as we get to Elms-haven.”
“Are my ears burning?” Hugo asked, drawing level with the two men.
“They should be,” Felis said. “I was telling Borin about how we took this job. You know, your mother made me swear- hand on heart- never to get you into any danger that I couldn’t get you out of again.”
“Yes and look how that turned out,” Hugo said drily. “She’d string you up if she knew half of what’s gone on.”
Felis laughed and watched his nephew canter to the front of the line. “He’s not wrong,” he said ruefully.
The sky was bruised with purple clouds, promising tempestuous weather as they crossed the border into Desea. Felis wanted to head on into town. “We might find a tavern where we can have an ale or two,” he said and that was enough to get the others on-board.
The old fighter was pleased to find a bustling market in the centre of the town but he knew that the impending storm would make them close soon. “We must be quick,” he told the others. “So we’ll have to split up to get everything done. I’ll pay for the horses to be stabled then I’ll find a saddler. Riding bareback for so long has taken its toll on me. Hugo and Albin- you stock up on food. We need bread, cheese and ham-”
“What about us?” the half-elf interjected.
“Here, take this silver and buy yourself a cloak with a hood. It’s best if you keep your head covered while you’re here but don’t get anything too thick or you’ll boil in the desert.”
“And don’t stray too far,” Hugo warned them. “If we are separated, meet us at ‘The Cockerel’ at sundown.”
Dannymere looked over at the tavern behind the stalls and nodded. “You won’t have to tell me twice!”
Dannymere found a cloak he liked almost straight away but he did not have enough silver to buy it. He decided to haggle with the stall holder and was close to striking a deal when he was jostled from behind. “Hey-” he began and then he stopped when he saw a beautiful elven face with intense green eyes staring back at him. The woman was wearing a cloak just like the one he was holding but her hood was down, revealing long straight hair, the colour of the sun.
The woman gasped and leaned in close. “Arius, I told you to wait in the apothecary while I got the supplies.”
“Pardon?” said Dannymere. He and Borin exchanged a look and the green eyes opened wide as she realised her mistake.
“I’m sorry,” she said, backing away. “I have to go.”
“Wait!” Borin called as she retreated into the crowd. He watched as she quickly picked up her pace, intent on escape.
“Let’s get after her!” Dannymere shouted and they began to give chase.
The two men dodged and weaved through the market-goers, their eyes locked onto the back of the woman’s head. She quickly realised that her hair was acting as a beacon so she pulled her hood up as she ran.
The woman was quick and nimble and could easily negotiate the maze of stalls. Behind her, Borin charged straight through, knocking fruit and vegetables off the tables. The angry shouts of stall-holders were what alerted Hugo to the problem. He quickly assessed the situation then set off in the opposite direction, down an alleyway, next to the docks.
When the woman realised she could not shake her pursuers in the crowd, she decided to quit the market and rely solely on her sp
eed. She veered left down an empty alleyway. It was a straight run and if she could clear it quickly, she would have ample time to reach the docks and hide on one of the many empty vessels there.
She was almost at the end of the alleyway when a man appeared in front of her with his sword drawn and pointed at her chest. The woman skidded to a halt with her hands up but then she laughed when she realised who it was. “Hugo- what are you doing here? Put that thing away!”
Hugo smiled and lowered his sword. “Talia- long time, no see. Now where would you be going in such a hurry?”
Talia turned at the sound of footsteps thundering along the alleyway behind her. Dannymere and Borin had caught up and she was hemmed in on all sides. There was nothing left to do now but tell the whole story and hope they would understand.
Nearly an hour later, the men met at the tavern as planned. Felis was surprised to see that his nephew had brought an unexpected guest. Talia insisted they take a table at the back of the tavern and, when she was sure that they were settled, she ushered in a cloaked figure who chose to sit in the corner, tucked away in the shadows. When the man eventually pulled back his hood, everyone was overcome by his striking resemblance to Dannymere.
“Whoa,” said Albin, his mouth gaping.
“So… you must be Arius,” Dannymere said smugly. He glanced at Felis to gauge his reaction but the old fighter was giving nothing away. “Oh come on,” Dannymere goaded, “someone could at least have the good grace to apologise!”
“Keep your voice down!” Talia urged him. “We mustn’t be noticed.”
“Sorry,” Dannymere muttered. A loud clap of thunder signalled the start of the storm and rain began to lash at the windows.
“It’s going to get busy in here as everyone takes shelter,” Hugo commented. “That should work in our favour.”
Talia nodded and continued. “Arius- these are the men I told you about. They are Felis and Hugo, friends of the elves. They were sent to find you and take you home.”
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