He promptly informed everyone how they had extracted the next part of the clue from the altar and what it contained. He deliberately avoided looking at Sam as he spoke and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she did not react. Bellak seemed about to say something but, noticing the look on Tor’s face, opted to remain silent.
“Anyone ever hear of Zeneth?” Nobody had.
“Back to Allias’s library then,” Bellak stated.
There were no arguments so Tor instructed them all to meet in the stables in ten minutes and left to search for Helen. He found her in the throne room, surrounded by petitioners, all looking as though they were expecting her to sign the pieces of paper they were waving. She looked up as a guard announced his presence and a smile filled her face.
“Tor, you are back,” she yelled across the room in the most childish voice he had heard her use since arriving at the palace. Jumping up, she pushed past everyone and ran up to him, throwing herself into his arms.
“Do not overdo it,” he whispered into her ear before moving away from her so he could perform his official bow. Fuzzle was standing in her usual place beside the throne and he noticed she was trying to hide a grin. She looked like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders; Helen must have finally told her the truth.
The Queen turned back to her petitioners as though suddenly remembering they were still present. “I am so sorry. I must speak to the Prince before he departs. Can we continue this tomorrow?” She smiled sweetly at them, reminding Tor of a child asking for a sweet. Everyone left the throne room, grumbling as they went, leaving Tor alone with Helen and Fuzzle. As soon as the door was firmly closed, Helen burst out laughing.
“Perfect timing,” she said. “It was getting to the stage where I was going to have to make a decision. Now I can pretend to have forgotten everything overnight so they have to start all over again. If I can keep this up for a few more days they will give up and leave me alone.”
“Why not just make the decision?” Tor asked.
“Because I should not have to. Their dispute is something they can easily sort out themselves if they just put some thought into it. They need to learn that it is far easier to solve their own petty squabbles and leave me alone to deal with important issues.”
“I am very proud of you,” he said and kissed her on the cheek. He looked at Fuzzle. “She has told you everything I suppose.”
Fuzzle nodded. “I should have worked it out for myself. I feel such a fool.”
“She fooled us all. At least you can now worry a little less.”
“We shall see,” she replied, though the smile remained on her face.
“We have to leave,” Tor announced. “I am here to thank you for your hospitality and to say goodbye. Everyone should be waiting for me in the stables by now.”
“I will come and give you an official send off,” Helen announced. “I would like to say goodbye to them all, especially Patrick.”
“Behave,” Tor said to her in a light tone of voice and held out his arm so he could formally escort her from the room.
Everyone was indeed waiting for Tor by the time he arrived with Helen at the stables. Patrick maneuvered his horse behind Ban, trying to avoid Helen’s gaze and failing.
“Leaving so soon Patrick?” she asked, twirling one of her curls around her finger. “I thought you would be staying a little longer so we can announce our engagement.”
“Sorry your Majesty, but I must leave. Tor could not possibly manage without me.” His voice sounded strained.
“I am sure we can all survive for a few weeks without you. We will leave word of our next destination as soon as we know it if you wish to remain here for a while longer.” Tor winked at Helen. Patrick went pale. Seth, who was sitting atop the wagon, burst out laughing.
It was a much happier team that left Linket that day. Sam’s lack of reaction to the scream of agonizing pain that was needed from the cicerone showed that she was oblivious to the fact the clue referred to her, and nobody chose to enlighten her. Each secretly knew they would regret putting off the inevitable, but tried not to think about it until they were given no choice. Hawk, of course, would have to be warned. Whether he would keep quiet or not was anyone’s guess.
The routine they had adopted for travelling had become second nature to them so there was no discussion whenever they stopped for a break, or even for the night. Each of them knew what they needed to do and immediately started doing it. Boredom soon set in. To combat this, Patrick and Brin started to give lessons involving the sword and the bow. Ban found some large sticks and made up some wooden practice swords while Brin found enough material to make some small bows and arrows. Those who wished to learn were split into two groups which alternated each evening between archery and swordplay.
As the days progressed, Sam realised that, not only was she learning how to defend herself, but her overall fitness was improving. There were some downsides to the training though.
“Every muscle in my body hurts,” she complained one evening as she collapsed by the fire. “From now on, I stick to archery.”
“Of course that has nothing to do with the fact that Brin has to put his arms around you to correct the positioning of your hands,” Liselle teased. Only River and Oak were within earshot so she knew there would be no harm in making the comment.
“No, it doesn’t,” Sam stated. “These are toy swords for Christ sake, they are not supposed to hurt so much when they hit you.”
“If you did not get hurt, you would not have the motivation to prevent yourself being hit, therefore you would not learn,” Oak pointed out.
“There’s no need to be logical. I know you are right, but I want to whinge and moan for a while.”
“I do not know how you can bear to take archery lessons with that elf.” River almost spat the last word.
“Someday you will need to explain to me why sprites and elves hate each other. Something terrible must have caused this animosity.”
Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Oak, with the occasional comment from River, told Sam a little of the sprite history. Water sprites and tree sprites lived together in harmony in Eshden forest. They worked well together, taking care of the trees and the plants, each with their own kind of magic. Their happy life had continued for many generations until the elves invaded. They lived in another forest at that time and, hearing what a wonderful place Eshden was, they claimed it as their own. The sprites were hunted for sport, causing many to flee to find a home elsewhere. No sprite had set foot inside the forest since. The elves used the forest instead of cherishing it and almost caused it to be destroyed.
“That was all a long time ago,” Brin stated as he strode into the campsite, causing River and Oak to start in surprise. There was no smile on his face.
“That may be true, but our people have long memories,” Oak challenged.
Brin sat down beside Sam, ignoring River as she moved closer to Oak and farther from himself. “What you say is true. Our history agrees that our forefathers behaved abhorrently toward your people, but you have failed to mention that it was your Kings that invited us.”
“What do you mean? You elves were not invited, you invaded,” River almost shouted, her voice full of venom. She did not notice Oak shifting uncomfortably next to her, but Sam did.
“Actually, we were requested. The forest was dying. Disease had set in, rapidly spreading from tree to tree. The only way to save the healthy trees was to burn down the diseased ones. Your Kings were too weak to do the necessary task and too scared to explain the situation to their own people; so much so that they asked us to force you out and burn the forest, saving as many trees as we could. In exchange for our help, we were given the right to take over caring for the forest and make it our home.”
“You lie,” she spat, anger flaming through her eyes.
“No, he is telling the truth,” Oak said quietly. River turned her gaze on him, causing him to flinch. “The only part he has wrong is that
the request came solely from the ruler of the tree sprites; your King had no knowledge of it. My people managed to keep the plight of the trees from your people and let the elves believe both rulers were in agreement.”
River stared at him in disbelief. “My people were slaughtered by the elves and you say it was at the request of your King?”
It was Brin who answered. “No. There was supposed to be no deaths. Some of the younger elves got carried away. It is a part of our history that we deeply regret.”
“Young elves disobeying their elders. Nothing has changed there then,” River snapped.
“Everything has changed,” Brin said, somehow maintaining his calm composure. “My people mourned the deaths as much as yours did and we still do. Now we kill only for food or in self-defence. If you returned to the forest you would be welcomed with open arms.”
“Of course we would. You need to get us there before you can hunt us. Do you really think any member of my race would be that stupid?” Turning her attention to Oak, she continued shouting. “And as for you, your race is no better. In some respects they are worse. You betrayed us. It is all your fault.” Tears were streaming down her face as she spoke. Suddenly her anger abated, leaving behind a deep sadness. She turned and ran into the nearby trees so nobody could witness her breakdown. Oak started to rise, intending to go after her.
“Leave her,” Liselle instructed. “She needs to be alone right now.”
“I am sorry,” Brin said quietly. He sounded tired, completely drained as if the argument had sapped all of his energy. “I did not mean to upset anyone.”
“I know,” Sam said, sympathetically. “It is my fault. I should not have asked about the animosity. I have reopened old wounds.”
“You were not to know,” Oak assured her. He looked toward the route River had taken, though he could not see her.
“What is going on?” a gruff voice asked from behind them. Recognising the voice, they did not need to turn around to know that Grimmel had approached. They quickly explained what had taken place.
“And you let her go off on her own,” he said accusingly. “What sort of friends are you?”
“She is better off on her own,” Liselle said, taking the dwarfs hand in hers.
“What would you know?” he asked, pushing her hand aside and striding off in the direction the water sprite had taken.
It was a very subdued meal that evening; nobody was much in the mood for talking. Grimmel and River returned, but sat apart from the others. Oak tried to talk to her, but she just turned her back on him, so he gave up. When most of them turned in for the night, Tor took Seth and Dal on another hunting lesson. Ban took first watch, accompanied by Modo. Hawk went to find his own meal, promising to take over as soon as he returned. Sam, once again, made use of his empty coffin, along with Samson. She had missed having the wolf so close while at Linket. Having him close by made her feel safe; having him keep her feet warm was an added bonus.
Sam awoke to find Brin talking with Oak. Their mutual distrust was still obvious, but they agreed to not let their prejudices cloud their judgement and to assess each other on their individual merits rather than their race. Maybe they would be able to earn each other’s trust, maybe they wouldn’t, but at least they were prepared to make an effort. River continued to avoid them both for the rest of the day.
As evening was approaching and camp was being made, a sound of fast moving hoof beats could be heard. Minutes later an exhausted young soldier in the uniform of Queen Helen’s personal guard rode into camp on an equally tired horse. He slipped from his mount, Tor catching him just before he hit the ground. Ellen rushed over with a mug of water while Seth led the horse to the nearby river and began rubbing it down while it drank. The soldier took a few quick gulps then removed a letter from inside his tunic, handing it over to Tor.
“I never thought I was going to catch up with you,” he finally managed to say. “Her Majesty wanted you to receive this as soon as possible.”
The letter was sealed with Helen’s personal seal, which Tor broke open then began to read, while Ellen set to work on its delivery boy, washing his face and calling for food to be brought over. Quickly scanning the correspondence, Tor let out a groan then reread it more slowly. Everyone was watching him expectantly.
“Someone find Brin,” he instructed and Samson immediately leapt to his feet, sniffing the ground until he found the elf’s trail. Brin had volunteered to hunt for their supper and was somewhere in the woods behind them. Tor did not provide any information about the contents of the letter and nobody questioned him. It did not take Samson long to find Brin, but persuading him to return to camp took a while.
“What took you so long?” Tor asked upon their return. Samson looked at Brin in disgust then shook his head. The gesture was so human it was eerie.
“My apologies,” Brin said. “It took a while for me to realise what the wolf wanted. If he would be so kind as to take one of you back to where he found me, I was in the process of bringing back a wild boar I had just shot. I left it behind when I realised the urgency.”
Tor nodded his head at Ban, who instantly headed into the woods. Samson went after him, having to run to catch up to the large man. Tor continued addressing Brin.
“You had better sit down for this.” He obeyed, frowning as the letter was handed over. He read it carefully, no emotion showing on his face, then handed it back.
“Thank you,” he said in a toneless voice. “I think I will go and help retrieve the boar.” As soon as he was out of sight, questions started flying about the letter. Tor ignored them all, waiting for silence. He then gave a brief summary, giving only the stated facts, offering no comments or opinions. Illen had escaped. Nobody had thought to check her possessions and she still had the bottle of hemper. She used it to seduce one of her guards and talked him into letting her go while the other guards slept. She was last seen riding a horse north, though her final destination could be anywhere. She took Helen’s letter to the King of the elves with her.
“Shit,” Sam swore before anxiously asking, “Where does that leave Brin?”
“That depends on his King. Are we all prepared to give evidence against Illen?” Everyone agreed they would, even River. “Then nothing much has changed, though the letter giving Helen’s testimony would have helped.”
The soldier, who had been drifting off to sleep, suddenly sat up straight. “She wrote another one,” he declared, taking a second letter from his tunic and handing it to Tor. This, too, had the royal seal. It was addressed to the elven King so Tor took it to the wagon and stored it safely among his belongings, without reading the contents.
“One less matter to worry about,” Ellen murmured.
“So we have a new destination,” Sam said cheerfully. “We accompany Brin to Eshden forest.”
“You must be joking,” Bellak retorted. “Unless the elves can tell us about Zeneth, we go to Vada.”
“But,” Sam started to say, but Tor interrupted her.
“I am sorry, but he is right. We cannot make such a big detour at the moment. Hopefully we will have to go closer to Brin’s homeland before long.”
Anger flared inside Sam. “So what happened to promising to give evidence for him? Do you only support someone when it is convenient for you?” She was overreacting and she knew it.
Tor was saved the effort of having to defend himself by the timely arrival of Ban. He strode into the campsite carrying the boar across his shoulders. Sam looked around as he dropped it on the ground close to the fire.
“Where’s Brin?” she asked.
“Why ask me?”
“He said he was going to help you retrieve the boar. Haven’t you seen him?” Ban shook his head.
“He will turn up soon. He probably just wants to be alone for a while,” Tor said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Now, who is going to prepare the pig for roasting?”
A few hours later Sam was sitting on a fallen log, staring into the trees. Rive
r joined her, carrying a plate of meat and some sliced bread. The aroma coming from the plate was mouth-watering, but Sam had lost her appetite. River handed her the food then sat down next to her.
Without looking at her, she spoke in a quiet, subdued voice. “Words cannot describe how much I hate elves, but I hope that Brin comes back, I really do.”
“I know,” Sam said and put her arm around the sprite, who returned the gesture. Having someone close was comforting. “So do I.”
They sat together silently for a while, lost in their own thoughts, hugging each other tight. As it turned dark, Hawk awoke and was given the full story. Without saying a word, he took to the skies.
It was a few hours before dawn when he finally caught sight of his quarry. As soon as he had left the camp he had found and killed a deer, depositing the bloodless corpse in the wagon for Seth to deal with when he awoke. Then the hunt began. The elf was good, leaving no sign of his passing and Hawk was getting close to giving up when he caught a hint of movement in the trees below him.
“You are a hard man to find,” he said casually as he dropped to the ground beside Brin, who showed no sign of surprise at his sudden appearance.
“When I want to be.” The reply was not unfriendly, but no smile touched Brin’s face as he spoke.
“People are worried about you.”
“As you can see, I am fine.”
“So where are you going?” There was no urgency in Hawk’s tone, but he did keep glancing up, making sure there was no evidence of the sun rising.
“I intend to hunt down that bitch and drag her back to my father in chains.”
“Understandable,” hawk said, nodding slightly. “However, it will be difficult on your own. Having friends to help is always a good thing.”
Brin rejected this. “It is my problem to solve, not theirs.”
“I think you should explain that to them when you return to the camp.”
“I am not going back.”
“Actually yes, you are,” Hawk informed him as he grabbed hold of his shoulders and flew into the air. Brin’s shouts of protest were ignored, but his struggles couldn’t be. “Please keep still or I will drop you.”
The Guide Page 32