“The Shimmerstrand is a wonder in itself. It is made of a living nest of vines. Now it is late fall, so the leaves are drying and many have fallen, but in the spring, it is adorned in full growth and color and it shimmers brightly in the morning light. The base of the bridge is a tightly wound, thick core of vines. It is this core that bears the traffic load across it. The sides of the bridge curve up and help support the travelers as they traverse across. Men, elves, dwarves, horses, even trolls have used it to pass from north to south across the land.”
As Hasdel spoke, Kalo drew closer to hear. The gava’s short history of the Shimmerstrand was fascinating to him.
“You know much about this bridge,” said Kalo.
“The Realmsguard passes by here on its route from Riverlok to Cayleon. I have shared that account with young troopers many times.” His voice faded at the end.
Kalo’s fondness for this good man continued to grow. The company was lying ready to attack a band of gnolls, and still the king’s messenger found it befitting to teach two young thieves from Riverlok the lore of the Shimmerstrand.
As the young companions relaxed and chewed on their portions of dried meat, Hasdel turned their attention to the mission at hand. “Quillen and I went up to the bridge. We found the gnolls camped less than five hundred paces up the trail from the gorge edge. The number of gnolls is greater than we expected. There are at least forty. We tracked less than twenty, so the others must have been camped here, waiting for them.” Hasdel continued. “We could see the dwarf. He is alive.” As he said this, he looked to the south, into the darkness across the gorge. Kalo felt the heavy sensation return deep in his stomach.
Quillen suddenly, yet quietly, came in to join them and sat down next to Hasdel. “Still on?” asked the gava of the hunter. Even in the dark, Kalo could see Quillen nod. “We will make our rescue attempt for the dwarf tonight,” said Hasdel. Kalo heard the word attempt and the uncertainty troubled him even more, though he said nothing.
The four sat together on the cool, damp grass. The hunter had brought more food, and it was welcomed. He passed around a cold broth, for they had not built a fire. Hasdel continued. “Our plan is simple. In the early morning hours while it is still dark, Kalo, you will go alone and cut the dwarf loose.” Kalo went deaf at that moment. He heard nothing else, though he knew the gava was still talking. He began to feel the chill of the night air, and his body shook rapidly, but no one could see him in the dark.
“Quillen and I will follow and cover you with our bows,” Hasdel went on. “If the gnolls are aroused early, Ty will distract them with a display of light that will enable you to escape. We must steal the dwarf back. We will then cross the Shimmerstrand to the south. There are too many of them to confront directly. If we must fight, we will fight for the bridge where the narrows favor us. Quillen and I have discussed this. It is the only way.” Hasdel paused. “It is dangerous, lad,” he warned Kalo. “Can you do it?” Hasdel was asking Kalo if he could do it, not if he would do it. He was assuming the young Riverman would, and that assumption troubled Kalo. He was silent as he pondered the request.
“I don’t think he’s awake yet, messenger,” Quillen said, accounting for Kalo’s failure to reply.
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Ty. Kalo remained silent.
“I am afraid we need you for an even riskier role, Ty,” said Hasdel. “You are the sole decoy. It will be your task to lead the gnolls away if we are detected too soon. No one will be able to help you. You will need to survive on your own.”
Hasdel reassured Kalo. “You can do this, lad. We will be there with you.” Again, Kalo did not respond. Instead he looked down at the earth.
Then the hunter spoke. “It is the dwarf’s only chance, boy.” Quillen had not spoken directly to Kalo since their first meeting, and the young boy from Riverlok felt the strength of it instantly.
“I will do it,” he said softly.
On one knee, Hasdel leaned forward and placed a hand on Kalo’s shoulder. “Remember the dwarven knife you found? You can use that to cut through anything these creatures used to tie the dwarf.”
Hasdel then rose to his feet. He kicked Ty’s boot and said to him, “You, young tracker—we’re counting on you.” Hasdel then addressed both boys, who were still lying on the ground. “Rest a little now. We will be back for you in a few hours.”
Kalo was committed, but very anxious, and he could not conceal his grave feelings. He surprised them all when he asked, “Why is it that we risk our lives for a stranger, a dwarf?”
Hasdel did not hesitate to answer the frightened boy. “The dwarf has lost his freedom, lad. We have all chosen to restore that right to him. This is about freedom, not lives. We do this not gleefully, not gladly, and with great fear in our hearts for our own lives, or we would not be men. For we love life, but freedom more.” Then the hunter and the gava left them.
Kalo stared into the dark after Hasdel and thought about what he had said. Why were Hasdel and Quillen so willing to give up their lives for this stranger, this dwarf? Even Ty had said he was ready. In fact, Ty had willingly volunteered for the brazen deed of rescuing the dwarf before he even learned of the perilous task that awaited him, leading the gnolls away from the rest of the company. Did Ty really know what he was offering to do? Kalo shook his head and gazed into the distance, in the direction of the Shimmerstrand. Does everyone so freely offer up their lives? Not me, he said to himself. He wanted to live and was not ashamed of it. Yet despite this, he felt as though he should be embarrassed for his hesitation. Hadn’t the hunter shamed him into agreeing to infiltrate the gnoll encampment with nothing but a knife? Was everyone mad but him? Or was he just fearful of the task before him? And even more important, was he shaking because of the chilly night air, or was he terrified that he might soon die?
Chapter 20
Hasdel and the two boys from Riverlok lay crouched by the Shimmerstrand, hidden in its web of vines. Patiently, they waited for the return of the hunter and the moment when they would launch the rescue of the dwarf captive.
“Relax for a spell, lads. Quillen needs to make a final study of the gnoll encampment before we begin,” said Hasdel. The same pain returned that Kalo had felt low in his gut when the messenger and the hunter first described his role in the rescue. He took deep breaths and tried hard not to think. He was glad it was dark so Ty could not see him, for his friend knew him well and would realize how troubled he was.
The moon was still bright, but a stream of low clouds cast a cover over the land. A cool, gentle breeze filled the night. Suddenly they heard a rustling of grass, and the hunter appeared and slumped down to where the three were lying in wait. “The time has come,” he said.
Hasdel spoke so all could hear, but his message was for Ty. “We have prepared a vessel with hot embers, and here is a powder that scouts and messengers carry. If you receive a signal from us, blow on the embers, toss in the powder, and hurl the vessel high in the air. The gnolls will turn toward the light. You are then on your own.”
“What is the signal?” asked Ty, his voice steady.
“The dwarf is tied to a barren tree. The hunter will put an arrow into the stake above the dwarf’s head. That will be your signal.”
“Will I be able to see the arrow in the darkness of night?” Ty quickly asked.
“I’ll use some of the powder on the head so that the arrow will flash briefly upon impact,” Quillen answered.
Hasdel nodded and continued, “We will send the signal only if we believe the gnoll band is fully alerted. If only a few see Kalo, we will attempt to silence those few quickly and quietly.” The gava went on. “Position yourself on the far side of their encampment. When they come after you, run deep into the underbrush away from them and then circle back quickly to the edge of the chasm. Follow the rim to the Shimmerstrand and rejoin us. Remember, first give them a trail to follow away from the Shimmerstrand. We will wait for you for only a short time. Then we will cross the Shimmerstrand and head south toward Melda. If
you are trapped on this side of the gorge, head east to find a place to cross the Silvertongue River, go south, and join us in Melda three to four days from now. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said the boy with no hesitation.
No one spoke for a moment. Then Hasdel said to Ty, “Young tracker, you are a brave lad. You risk your life for your companions and the dwarf. We have you to decoy for us. We cannot help you once you have ignited the yellow powder.”
“I understand,” said Ty. His voice was quiet but clear.
Quillen leaned toward the boys. He stretched his long arm out and grasped Ty’s shoulder firmly. He held him for a moment and, upon releasing his grip, spoke in his deepest voice. “Now go, son.” The former thief of Riverlok rose and was lost in the night.
“Now, Kalo, are you ready?” asked Hasdel.
Kalo rose slowly. The fear was so overwhelming he could not contemplate it. He stood straight up and began walking toward the camp alone without a word. Hasdel quickly caught up to him and, placing a firm hand on his shoulders, drove him downward into a low profile as the three moved slowly toward the camp of the gnolls. They were a hundred paces from the encampment. The Shimmerstrand was behind them to the east. It would be their path of retreat.
In Kalo’s mind, the plan seemed simple enough. Free the dwarf, retreat across the Shimmerstrand, and head south to Melda. But they had no plan if something went wrong, at least not one that had been told to him. They had given Ty a backup plan, but not him. He thought about that. Perhaps he was not given a way out because he didn’t need one. Or maybe he didn’t need a plan because he wasn’t alone and would never be alone. He was and always would be in the company of the gava and the hunter. That must be why, he thought as the gava’s firm hand steered him closer and closer to the gnolls.
Suddenly Kalo saw his first live gnoll. The sight awakened him from his trance. He fell to the ground and held still. The gnoll was walking between two fires in the center of the encampment. Kalo slowly raised his head to look.
The light of several campfires illuminated the sky. Kalo could see the gnolls clearly. The sight of the first moving gnoll sent an icy chill through him, but he held it in. The moving gnolls reminded Kalo of huge upright boars. They walked slightly bent forward and moved from side to side with each stride. They wore enormous plates of protective armor tied about them. The plates looked like a mixture of thick leather and metal sheets that had been crudely assembled into individual suits of armor. They were strapped about their arms, legs, and torso with a type of strand, possibly leather strips, he thought. Every one looked different.
Quillen and Hasdel were at Kalo’s side. Without words, Quillen pointed to the near side of the camp. A small fire at the edge of the encampment revealed a hulk of a figure lashed to a barren tree. His hands were bound together by rope and then tied over his head to a limb of the tree. It looked painful to Kalo. This must be the captured dwarf, he thought. He had seen dwarves before in the streets of Riverlok, and he had seen their bodies at the massacre. This was a dwarf for certain, but he was larger than any dwarf Kalo had ever seen.
Two gnolls sat in front of the dwarf, looking away, and next to him lay a small heap of hides. The gava, the hunter, and the young thief inched their way toward the camp of the gnolls, crawling through the high grass. The fires at the far end of the encampment were much larger and brighter. Kalo could now make out the bodies of a few sleeping gnolls scattered about.
A small group near one of the fires was making loud growling sounds, as though they were arguing or threatening one another. He could see small mounds of armaments. As the three men watched, a noticeably smaller gnoll staggered up to a pile of armaments and began sifting through it. The gnoll drew out what appeared to be a fine dwarven crafted sword, looked at it, and then began walking away. He was immediately set upon by two other gnolls. A small melee ensued. Six or seven gnolls began to push one another about. The deep guttural sounds grew louder.
“Now,” said Quillen quietly, tapping Kalo on the shoulder. This was Kalo’s signal to make his move toward the dwarf. “Cut him free any way you can,” the hunter added.
“We are here to back you up,” said Hasdel. Then he put one hand on Kalo. “Remember what you told me you used to do for a living? Well, now put those skills to good use.”
The young thief began to crawl, slowly at first, but an innate commitment to his word drove him steadily on. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. The salt from the perspiration burned. As he stopped to wipe his eyes and looked back over his shoulder at his companions, a great fear struck him. Where were they? Positioned between the light of the gnolls’ fire and his companions, he could not see them. Kalo had come to know that he could see in the night far better than most men could. But when he looked into a bright light in the dark, the contrast rendered him helpless. Blinded and alone, Kalo fought the panic, drove himself into the ground, and crawled ahead like a snake, inching forward to within feet of the gnolls guarding the dwarf.
As he stared up from the ground at the gnolls, the unmistakable sound of an arrow in flight whizzed overhead. It was followed immediately by the sound of one of the gnolls in front of him grasping his throat, with the hunter’s arrow protruding from it. Kalo impulsively rolled over to look back in the direction of Quillen and Hasdel. He caught sight of an oncoming flash in the firelight followed by the same sound of an arrow in flight. He rolled back to see a second gnoll clutching his throat as he fell to his knees. The brawl of the half a dozen gnolls near the main fire continued. The first gnoll who was struck lay motionless with his face to the ground. The other was trying to stand again with the arrow still in his throat. The gnoll made it to his feet. Still holding his throat, he stumbled toward the archers. He stood over Kalo, who lay motionless in the tall grass, looking up. A third arrow caught the gnoll in the neck a second time and knocked him back. The gnoll toppled and fell into a small fire, and sparks flew into the air.
Kalo rose to a squat and rushed to the side of the hanging dwarf, shielding himself from the sight of the brawling gnolls. He inched his way around and from behind the tree, reached up for the dwarf’s tied hands. The cord that bound him hung from a limb over the dwarf’s head. The young Riverman could not get his arms around the tree to reach the cord. Kalo then exposed himself to the gnolls and moved in front of the huge dwarf. He saw clearly the thick cord forcing the dwarf’s hands into the air. Kalo reached up with the dwarven knife and, with a single thrust, sliced cleanly through the bindings. The dwarf’s bound arms, now cut free from the stake, fell heavily to his sides before Kalo. A terrifying cry rang out in the distance. Kalo had never heard a gnollish scream before, but he had no doubt of its meaning. He had been discovered—his worst nightmare. Now what?
Chapter 21
The dwarf was alert. His steely eyes peered at the frightened boy sent to free him. He seemed oblivious to the buildup of the roar from the gnolls as their numbers rapidly became aware of Kalo’s presence. He calmly held his tied hands outstretched before the terrified young Riverman. Kalo quickly cut the ties clean with the dwarven knife. The dwarf rubbed his wrists slowly as the bindings fell loose.
Kalo saw that the captive was as huge as Quillen had speculated. He was larger than the dwarves they had buried. He was shorter than Kalo, but easily as broad as two men. The dwarf’s face was covered with a thick rust-colored beard, braided down to his chest. His hair was the same cast, and it covered his head like a large red bush jutting out from under a crafted headpiece, a dull metal helmet made of triangular pieces seamed together. Leather straps bound his thick arms and legs, which were covered in heavy links of mail. With his stocky build, he resembled a moving pile of armor.
The fleeting sound of Quillen and Hasdel’s arrows overhead continued. Hearing a solid thud in the tree, Kalo looked up. One arrow, flared to life from the gava’s powder and still vibrating from the impact, had been well placed at the highest point of the barren tree stake that had held the bound dwarf. It w
as the signal Hasdel promised to send if the plan to steal the dwarf away unnoticed had failed. Moments after the arrow hit its mark, a loud boom echoed from the opposite side of the camp behind the gnolls, and flares of light began to explode across the sky. Ty had seen the signal and done his job. The basket thrown skyward by Ty returned to earth and exploded in a brilliant ball of light. The glow cast long shadows across the camp. The gnolls froze at the sudden spectacle. Even Kalo stopped to stare.
Then he was back in the moment. “Follow me!” cried Kalo to the dwarf over the drone of the gnolls.
The big dwarf grabbed his young rescuer’s shoulder as Kalo turned to run. “There is another,” he said in halted common speech, pointing to a pile of skins nearby. There, lying on his back, was a young man gagged and bound. Kalo went to his side. The dwarf harvested two of his countrymen’s swords from the dead gnolls lying at the foot of the stake with the hunter and messenger’s arrows protruding from their necks. The dwarf warrior stood and looked about, oblivious to the battle sounds that were building. He strode a few paces to a pile of stolen dwarven armor and began to outfit himself far beyond what Hasdel and Quillen wore. He slung the two swords over his back and chose two axes to fit his belt on each side and a shield that mounted over his huge left arm. He inserted a long blade into a scabbard alongside his calf and a shorter blade on his right hip.
One by one, gnolls recovered from the light flash and charged toward the stake. The dwarf warrior, now in full armament, slashed at the onrushing beasts. Arrows continued to fly from the two concealed archers.
The bound young man was dressed as a Realmsguard, and Kalo recognized the leather strap around his neck. Another gava! He took his knife and quickly cut the bonds off the young soldier. Kalo’s eyes grew enormous as he looked up and caught sight of the dwarf slashing open the neck of a charging gnoll.
“Get up and come with me!” shouted Kalo to the soldier over the sound of gnolls howling the alarm.
The Ruins of Melda Page 12