The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path

by Douglas Van Dyke

  The young noble quieted but turned a worried look towards the gathering enemies. She was breathing heavy and in shock from the suddenness of the whole ordeal. Petrow lined up a swing at the rope where it was tied around the small tree. He swung the axe but ended up hitting the tree too high on the first try. The young man tried to rally his courage despite the shouts of alarm only several steps away from him. Any moment a big minotaur was going to hit him awfully hard with a huge axe if he didn’t hurry. He steadied his shaking limbs and swung a second time.

  The axe blade cut the rope from the tree. “Run, run, run!”

  Lady Shauntay got to her feet a little too slowly for Petrow’s liking. The blisters, cuts, and pains inflicted upon her on the road from Troutbrook slowed her down as she ran to get away from her captors. Hands still bound, she trailed the length of rope behind her. Through the darkness, she stumbled blindly as tree limbs and brush clawed at her. Her messed hair and rumpled dress snagged a few times.

  Petrow glanced back at the camp as she started to run. The most obvious threat came in the shape of the Tariykan martial artist running right at him. Other humans and mercenaries were near, but Loung Chao moved swift as the wind. Petrow readied his axe for a swing. It would be too late to outrun the Tariykan, but if he got in a lucky hit then at least the chances for both of them escaping would be better. Loung Chao showed no fear and no hint of slowing as he bore down on Petrow. The young handyman yelled, “Troutbrook!”…and promptly lamented his lack of battle cry ingenuity.

  He swung the axe across at Loung. The man jumped over the swing, disappearing from Petrow’s field of vision. The young handyman tried to react to any attack from behind. He dropped to one knee and reversed his swing. Again he connected to nothing but air, but looking behind him the tactics became clear. Loung hit the ground running after diving over the swing. The Tariykan focused on recapturing the fleeing noblewoman.

  That left someone else to deal with Petrow…and that someone else snorted its musky stench down the back of Petrow’s neck.

  Petrow barely held on to his bladder as he slowly turned to face his challenger. Bortun the minotaur stood with his axe casually held in front of him. A ring of human mercenaries formed a wide circle around both adversaries. There were a lot more humans traveling with the band then Mel had seen previously. The armed men appeared threatening enough, but Bortun dominated Petrow’s field of vision. Petrow had to look about two feet up to meet those inky black eyes. The minotaur seemed to be grinning, and on that bullish face the grin was just as much an abomination. Beyond the minotaur Petrow could see the other familiar faces he dreaded. The skull-faced helm of the abbess moved through the edge of the crowd. The handyman worried about what she might do to him, but she only stopped at the side of Red-hair and inspected the man’s wound. He resisted weakly, but she laid a hand on his head and began her healing prayers. As her miracle restored the health of Petrow’s first victim, the second one coddled his burned foot. In another direction, Petrow felt the yellow eyes of Revwar the elf boring into him. The wizard looked at the intruder with undisguised scorn.

  It was Revwar that spoke, “As I am a gracious host to unexpected company, I think we should let this one live until he’s answered a few questions.”

  Petrow sighed in relief, though he feared captivity at the hands of this group. Bortun frowned at the elf, clear disapproval at being deprived of its sport. Even as Petrow smirked at the creature, the dark cleric dispelled his courage with her next few words. Savannah stood after healing Red-hair and spoke coldly, “I will have plenty of healing left after I take care of our two men. Let Bortun have some fun and teach a lesson.”

  The smirk transferred from Petrow to Bortun as the elf nodded his approval. Bortun looked at the waraxe Petrow carried and nodded towards it. “Nice toy you got there.”

  The minotaur hefted his axe, but allowed Petrow to make the first move. Petrow pretended to look over his axe, biding his time before he actually had to fight the creature. Where were Trestan and Cat? If they were out there why didn’t they help him? Petrow looked around the ring of men. He searched for an opening to run for his life, but at the same time he wondered about the noble. He was disappointed to see Loung walking back, Lady Shauntay slung over his shoulder, unconscious.

  A cheer from the men was the only warning Petrow received. A solid hit with the flat part of the massive axe sent an explosion of pain through Petrow even as it knocked him aside. His breath rushed out in a huff. The youth rolled into the circle of men, though they quickly moved out of the way as Bortun followed. Petrow used rage to retaliate, even though he knew he had been seriously hurt. He swung his axe towards the minotaur, but there wasn’t much strength behind it. Bortun brought a cloven hoof down hard on the waraxe and pinned it to the ground. The young handyman let go of the handle as the larger battle-axe came down and sundered his weapon. He tried crawling away from its splintered remnants, gasping for air. The minotaur tossed aside his own axe and reached down to pick up the human. Bortun held him upright and steady, then punched him hard with one muscular arm. All the wind burst out for a second time. Bortun spun around once with the human lifted over his head, then slammed Petrow’s body down hard on the ground.

  The young man was in no condition to fight back. He hurt from broken bones and bled from the mouth. He glanced up and saw a couple figures through a haze of blurred vision. Lady Shauntay was dumped to the ground at the edge of the circle. Revwar was talking to Loung, “A pity you knocked her out, Loung. She might have had some entertainment watching this.”

  Large, rough hands grabbed Petrow and flipped him onto his back. Bortun leaned over the bruised human and spoke, snorting through some of the words. “I recognize you, human. You stood up for the half-elf back in that bar, and you tried rather badly to stop us from riding out of town. You might remember this favored move from the streets of your hometown.”

  Then the minotaur raised one muscular leg over Petrow, and stomped down real hard.

  * * * * *

  The light slowly made its way to his vision, only for him to close his eyes tightly against the brightness. He awoke rather disoriented, not sure where he was. He was floating on the edge of his dreams, trying vainly to return to them. He vaguely remembered the sensation of pain, which assaulted him once again. Trying to sneak a look, the light again proved too much and he tried to cover himself with the warm blanket that was over him. His body sought the relaxation of sleep.

  A voice came from nearby, “Look at him! He’s finally waking up.”

  Another, deeper voice answered in return, “Finally we’ll get some answers. I was getting sick and tired o’ waiting to find out what happened up there. To hell with the half-elf and her story.”

  Trestan returned to some awareness. He was lying under a warm blanket; a bright sun glared overhead. He heard movement nearby recognizing Mel’s and Salgor’s voices. He tried to sit up, though tiredness and a headache delayed him from rising off the ground. He was aware of Mel taking a seat next to him and lending a hand.

  “Easy lad,” Mel said, in his tiny voice, “Whatever happened gave you bad welt on the head. I used up my home recipe trying to ease the swelling. No more salve left until I get to mix some up.”

  Mel and Salgor helped him rise. Salgor’s strong arms left Trestan little choice but to allow himself to be pushed up into a sitting position. The young man felt the nozzle of a bottle near his lips and drank a large gulp. It burned down his throat, and suddenly he was coughing and spitting it out.

  “Salgor! You have to give him water! Don’t give dwarven spirits to a human in this shape!”

  “Bah!” The dwarf huffed, “Dwarven spirits will wake him up faster, and put fire in his belly.”

  Trestan felt worse, but also more awake. The young man took in his surroundings. He was in the ravine where they had made camp. Mel and Salgor were beside him helping the smith sit upright, each one looking a little concerned about his health. Cat and Petrow were nowhere to be see
n. Cat’s horse stood in the shade. The sun was midway through its heavenly course. It seemed odd to wake up so late in the day, and Trestan found his memory of the previous night to be incomplete.

  “How did I get back here?” Trestan asked.

  Salgor held out a hand to silence Mel’s inevitable and lengthy response, then spoke, “I dragged you down partway after Katressa came back for me. She had already dragged you a good distance off o’ that bluff. What I am wondering is what happened up there that you got hit in the head and Petrow ended up missing?”

  “Oh gods,” Trestan recalled the image of Petrow getting ready to throw an axe into the enemy camp. “I remember Petrow was getting ready to stir up a hornets’ nest. I wish I knew what happened. What did Cat say?”

  Mel and Salgor exchanged confused looks. The gnome replied, “She didn’t say anything about a hornets’ nest did she? I thought it was a larger animal.”

  “Animal?” Now Trestan wore the confused expression. “What are you talking about? What animal?”

  Salgor wore the customary scowl that indicated he didn’t like something that was going on. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Trestan. “She told us the two of you were almost to the camp when you ran into Petrow. She was very general about it, but she said you had somehow enraged some animal the size o’ a large boar. She didn’t answer specific, direct questions, but by the time it ended you had gotten butted in the back o’ the head and Petrow had run off into the woods. She said she took out the creature with her crossbow…I found her explanation odd since she wasn’t willing to show me where the battle had been when I asked her. I told her I wanted to help find Petrow, but she waved me off and said wait ‘til it was light, after I had taken care o’ you back here at camp. She kind o’ wandered off again and said she would look while we guarded you.”

  Trestan’s confused look showed. He recalled all the events leading up to his loss of consciousness, which were nothing like the tale told to Salgor. The young man listened to the whole story roll by and wondered why Cat had made up such a thing. Salgor saw the look in Trestan’s eyes and his own suspicions were confirmed that the half-elf had been lying. The dwarf looked sternly into the eyes of the young human. “Lad, tell me exactly what happened during the night.”

  Trestan related what they had seen in the camp. As soon as he mentioned spotting the cleric Savannah and mentioned the hostage Lady Shauntay, Salgor stomped his feet in disgust. The dwarf roared in rage, “I knew it! She lied! She didn’t want me running in there and taking my vengeance out on the sorry bunch o’ worthless bone weapons. That darned half-elf lied to me so I wouldn’t get my revenge in last night.”

  Mel interrupted, gesturing wildly with his little hands as he awaited answers. “Well what happened next? What did you see? And where is Petrow?”

  Trestan told them about how they had spotted Petrow getting ready to attack a couple men in the camp. Even as he said it he became extremely worried about the fate of his old friend. What had happened after he had been knocked out?

  While Salgor still fumed, Mel spoke out loud. “Petrow shouldn’t have done that by himself. We were all waiting here ready to help. Did anything happen to him?”

  Trestan answered, “I don’t know. I didn’t see what happened. I saw him about to attack, I told Cat we should help. Cat looked like she was reluctant to do so, but she had her rapier out and ready. Then she saw something, I turned around.” Trestan tried to remember everything that came next. “Something hit me and I went out.”

  Salgor narrowed his eyes again, “That was when you got hit on the back of your head?”

  Trestan nodded.

  Salgor spoke again, “So, what did Cat see? Who hit you?”

  Trestan replied with a helpless shrug. “I’m not sure. She looked past me and said ‘Look there’. I turned around and didn’t see anything, but then I got hit in the back of the head.”

  Salgor growled and took up his axe. He paced furiously back and forth a bit, though the young smith watched silently. Mel observed quietly for a short period of time, but eventually he made an observation. “There was a mark on the back of your head. Aside from the swelling, there were a few straight red lines from whatever hit you.”

  Salgor stopped and answered. “You figured out who hit you yet? She was reluctant to fight, even thought it was suicide to do so. The half-elf has been against any straight fight against that group since they almost killed her in the last fight. She’s scared like the rest o’ you. She turned your attention away when she saw you were about to charge in with your friend. Then the basket hilt of her rapier left that bruise Mel saw.”

  Trestan shook his head, then winced when that brought back some of his headache. “Nay, I don’t believe it.”

  Salgor leaned on his axe and stared right back at the young smith. The dwarf’s eyes scowled at the young human. “You know who hit you.”

  Trestan thought it over, as well as the lies Cat told to his two companions. He remembered the reluctant look on Cat’s face, and thought it odd that she had drawn out her rapier instead of her crossbow. The young man had to get past his feelings for Cat and admit what his logic had figured out. “Cat knocked me out.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The three of them sat impatiently around the camp waiting for Katressa to return. As much as the dwarf wanted to head up the hill and find out what happened, even he had to admit it would be better to wait for the half-elf’s appearance and find out more. Trestan rested quite a bit while they waited. Mel’s healing salve helped his head but a lingering headache remained. During this time Mel still talked about anything and everything, but his audience didn’t pay much attention.

  Before much time had passed they saw a familiar figure walking down the hill from the bluff. Although she picked a course that hid her from above, she didn’t try to avoid the eyes of the companions in the ravine. Cat slowed when she saw Trestan awake and staring up at her with the other three. Hesitation became apparent in Cat’s steps, but she resumed the walk to camp. The half-elf knew the others would know she lied to them. She had trouble looking at any of them in the eye. Since her attitude already conveyed her guilt and wrongdoing, Trestan dropped his gaze as well. The young smith stared blankly into the sand and dirt of the ravine. Trestan felt a sting of betrayal from Cat’s actions. He tried to remember all the good Cat had done for them, but his mind lingered on questions of Petrow’s fate.

  Salgor had his axe across his lap when he addressed the half-elf. “You lied to me you worthless sneak! My enemy is sitting up on that bluff, waiting for the sharp side o’ my axe, and yet he lived to breathe the air o’ another dawn.”

  Trestan had his eyes down, but he could see Cat’s boots at the edge of his vision. He had the urge to say something harsh, but he couldn’t bring himself to any words yet. Cat replied to the dwarf’s accusation. “It’s not like I thought you all wouldn’t find out. Some story was needed to delay you from doing something rash. I apologize for making up a tale about last night but everything I did was for your own good.”

  Mel started to speak, but Salgor drowned the gnome’s words with his own tirade. “And was it for Petrow’s own good? Was it for the good of the lady they still hold captive? We dwarves don’t mix words and step lightly…if there is a problem we stand right up and take care of it. Don’t worry about protecting me next time.”

  Cat angrily shot back, “Fine, you could have charged in last night. It would have been without me! I knew if I had told you the truth that you would have stormed right up there and gotten yourself killed. I might have had a chance to snatch her from their captivity last night, alone and easily. Thanks to Petrow’s foolishness I know how that would have ended! She screamed when she saw him and woke the whole camp. What good would we have done if we charged in blindly, especially after they were awakened to the possible danger? They are tough, organized, and they outnumber us by several. I counted heads last night and there were quite a few more than what Mel saw on the road. It broke my heart to
stop Trestan from helping his friend, but I wasn’t about to see him get killed foolishly.”

  Trestan raised his gaze to Cat, and she caught his eyes. She saw the sadness and tears welling up, and she had to avert her gaze. “And what happened to my friend?”

  The half-elf also started to water at the eyes. He could see that she cared for Petrow as well. Trestan could feel some sympathy for her, but did not believe that she had a right to deny him the chance to help his friend. She spoke through strained words, trying to keep a steady voice as she recalled the scene of torture. “He’s alive. He actually put up a good fight before they caught him. They hurt him but they healed him after. Then they stuffed him and Lady Shauntay into the same tent under guards. I think they questioned him a bit. Apparently he hasn’t told them where our camp is.”

  Trestan muttered, “So at least I have a chance to save him. You shouldn’t have stopped me Cat. I respected you. I trusted you at every turn. It was my choice to get involved last night.”

  “And accomplish what?” Some of the iron returned to her voice as Katressa replied, “To get yourself killed for nothing? To charge and die gloriously for what you believe, even if that doesn’t free the noble? To help a friend that bit off more than he could chew? I saved your life last night!”

  Salgor scoffed, “Bah! We’ll head up right now and get those kids out o’ there.”

  Cat turned to Salgor, but before she could speak Trestan interrupted, “This is about your father isn’t it?”

  Everyone, especially Cat, turned curiously to Trestan. Cat asked with a slight tremor to her voice, “What do you mean, about my father?”

  Trestan told her, “I remember the story that night before the goblin attack, even though I was almost asleep…

  “My father was concerned about the holy items that had been stolen, while various elders were more concerned with shutting the portal and ending the threat of the demons. Eventually, several stepped forth to brave the portal and retrieve the stolen goods. Reatheneus Bilil, my father, proclaimed loudly, ‘Yestreal’s gift was a relic, it should not be abandoned so easily!’ He looked to me and touched a hand to his ear, whereupon he wore a gold unicorn earring I had given him as a gift. He and those brave few went into the portal. We waited for hours. More demons attacked from the forest around us as well as through the portal itself. Finally, the elders conceded they could wait nay longer, and I watched numbly as they called forth a miracle and closed the passage between dimensions.