by Ben Hale
This man was a fighter, Trin thought.
“Is he alive?” Mae asked as she kneeled beside him.
“Yes, but he needs some care.” He showed her the leg bandage. “Look at the thigh. Something bad did this for sure.”
She shook her head and a worried expression flashed across her elven features. “He looks like death already came for him, but he refused to go.”
“He’s a fighter, this one,” Trin replied, but then he looked at the clothes for the first time. They were worn leather, and the brown and green colors suggested something else . . . “Not a fighter," he mused out loud, "more like . . . a woodsman.”
She nodded in agreement. “Let’s get him below and see what we can do for him.”
Trin lifted the man’s shoulders while Mae grabbed his legs. As they carried him below and laid him on a bunk, Trin cast a prayer skyward that the woodsman would survive . . . and hopefully have some answers when he awoke.
Chapter 20: A Thief in the Night
Long shadows cast by the setting sun blanketed the small copse of trees where Denithir had chosen to camp. Each of the elven guard went about their duties while an air of quiet tension seeped through them, causing furtive glances into the darkening trees. Taryn looked around at the elves and wondered how much more they could take before someone snapped.
A week had passed since the test of loyalty, and the only good occurrence since then had been the acceptance of Taryn into the group. Ren, more than any of the others, had talked quite a bit with him, sharing tales of his own life and young family. It helped to ease the overshadowing tension, as well as pass the time. Sometime over the last mile or two the talk had shifted to their training on Sri Rosen. Upon hearing that Murai had practically raised him, his eyebrows shot up.
“I remember Murai. Is he still as strict as a steel sword?” he asked. “I’d wager that was a rough upbringing.”
Confused, Taryn shook his head. “What do you mean? Murai was like family. I don’t think I can even recall him giving any sort of punishment.”
“Are you certain? I heard tales of him long before even I went to training. Before he went to Sri Rosen he worked for the Home Guard of Azertorn as a Setarian.”
“What’s a Setarian?” Taryn asked, annoyed with himself for never trying to know his adoptive uncle.
“A Seeker, and it’s a special office in the Home Guard. Only two or three are ever allowed the honor at any one time. From what I heard he was one of the best, and they called him Longblade because of his sword. He was renowned for his sense of unyielding justice.”
“What does a Seeker do?”
Liri, who was walking beside him, answered before Ren could, “They work directly with the Queen, and carry a rank only surpassed by the Captain of the Home Guard or the General. When something is stolen from the elves a Seeker is sent to return it—and bring justice to the taker.”
“Did you know he was one?” Taryn asked, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. He couldn’t believe she didn’t tell him.
She flashed an apologetic look. “I thought you knew. Murai hasn’t gone by the name for more than a century, and I’m sure few remember it now.”
Taryn felt the frustration mounting, but couldn’t explain why. Was he angry at Murai for not revealing more . . . or at himself for not asking? He was beginning to wonder if he knew anything at all about his adoptive uncle. Again, he considered the possibility that he had given up a real home for the fleeting prospect of one. The thought chilled his blood, and left him with a shaken resolve.
Liri nudged him and he looked at her. “Huh?” he asked, attempting to pull himself from his swirling thoughts.
“Ren asked if you would like to see an orb of his daughter?” Liri’s lips pursed as she flicked her eyebrows towards Ren on the opposite side.
“Er, yeah,” Taryn said, doing his best to recover from his momentary lapse in attention, but it proved to be unnecessary. Ren apparently hadn’t noticed, and was digging through his pack as he muttered to himself.
“Where is that blasted . . . ah, here it is.”
Withdrawing a small memory orb, he handed it to Taryn. Despite the size of the glass ball, the image of a blond, curly haired elf stood clear inside. Grinning wide, the elf child couldn’t have been more than a few years old.
“She’s adorable,” Taryn exclaimed, and Liri echoed his statement.
“Just turned four a couple of months ago, so my wife had this made for me. I think the mage overcharged her, but I can’t dispute the results.” He took it back from Taryn and gazed at it with pride before returning it to his pack. “Denithir is about to have his own you know,” he said, reseating his pack and turning back to them.
“Really?” Liri asked, “He’s in his fourth century isn’t he?”
Ren nodded towards the captain’s back and lowered his voice. “They had trouble conceiving for quite some time. I don’t know how they did it, but he found out just a few days ago that his wife was with child. Before he was summoned on this journey they were discussing names. I’ve never seen him so proud.”
—A hurried call hissed from the lead scout, and in an instant they were all on guard. Diving into the brush on either side, the entire command of elves evaporated in a heartbeat, waiting and barely breathing for fear of discovery. A moment later a whisper came back that it was only a deer, but the false alarm had had just as much effect as a real one.
Returning to the trail, they lapsed into silence, their attention focused outward once more. Still trying to calm his pounding heart, Taryn knew the conversation was over. The oppressive feeling of fear had surged back like a blast of hot air, and it would be some time before it would change—if it changed.
The further east they traveled, the more difficult the journey had become.
Traveling through the southern lands had provided a chance for Taryn to see more of the southern kingdom of Talinor, but had proved hazardous on multiple occasions. Heavily armed patrols of humans roamed the country like they were at war—which he had to admit wasn’t far off the elves’ attitude. Villages they had managed to pass boasted makeshift palisades and watchful guards. They had been forced to circumnavigate several times to avoid encountering humans. There was no doubt that if they encountered anyone a fight would be unavoidable—and would result in humans flooding towards them within hours.
Now patrols had increased in size and strength, with many of them mounted on long-legged horses. Avoiding them had become almost impossible, and without Kryll they would have been discovered and killed long ago. Dour and exceptionally strong for an elf, he had lived in the Forest of Numenessee his entire life and felt more at home in the woods than in a city. His uncanny instinct for trouble had more than once saved their skins when they would dive into hiding and watch men gallop by not a moment later.
But the constant vigilance was taking a toll on everyone, including Taryn. With hardly a word spoken for the rest of the day, the tension just seemed to build. By nightfall, nerves had been rubbed raw and tempers were on the verge of explosion as they bunked down a day's journey from the Oracle’s temple.
Taryn gnawed on his dinner of cold meat and dried fruit, wishing he could identify the source of his agitation. What he wouldn’t give for a hot meal, but they couldn’t risk a fire being spotted. Deep down he found he was still grateful for the excuse so he wouldn’t have to start one. Early in their journey, he’d been tasked with both the fire and the preparation of the evening meal. On both counts, he wasn’t asked again.
Laying down, Taryn sighed and looked up at the few stars just beginning to twinkle in the inky sky. He glanced at Liri to tell her something, but on spotting her tense expression he realized she still wasn’t in the mood to talk, so he forced himself to relax and fall asleep.
It felt like only a minute before he felt a silent footstep beside him. In a fraction of a second he palmed his sword and rolled into a defensive crouch before seeing Kryll's arm extended to touch him. Shock emanated fr
om Kryll’s darkened face.
"How did you hear me?" he whispered in confusion, "I made no noise."
Taryn shrugged, not wanting to explain his uncle's teachings. The older elf waited for a second, but seeing Taryn wasn’t going to answer he whispered again, "Denithir said you can take the second watch if you'd like."
Hiding his surprise, Taryn nodded and worked his way to the position on the perimeter that the elf had indicated. Settling into place with his back to a large oak, Taryn checked his surroundings before pausing to consider Denithir. After the battle in the woods he'd still been standoffish, but not overly so. Taryn had volunteered to take a watch every night but he had been politely turned down. This night marked the first that Denithir had relented and allowed Taryn to be one of the four sentries that were posted each night. A glimmer of hope blossomed as he realized that perhaps the strict elven captain had begun to trust him as an asset, and not just as a guest.
Glancing at the moon, he guessed it to be about midnight. He had to keep watch for three hours, so he shifted to get more comfortable and checked his body to ensure that he was completely in the shadow of a massive oak. Rather than continue to ponder the host of questions that had been bombarding his mind, he focused on the darkness in front of him. Time crawled by as he checked and rechecked his quadrant for any sign of intruders.
—Without warning something caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Casting about for the source, he neither saw nor heard anything—but the feeling persisted. Something or someone was out there. A trickle crawled up his spine as he felt an alien presence nearby.
There! Behind him? He'd heard something so quiet he almost doubted it, but in his gut he knew what it was . . . the whisper of skin on leather. Taryn whipped his head around and looked into the camp, scanning for anything out of place. One of the elves sat up and stretched—perhaps that had been it? But it wasn’t.
Then he saw it. His bedroll was occupied! Maybe another elf had taken his spot . . .? His instincts screamed otherwise, but he had to be sure. He scanned the camp to find what didn’t sit right. What was it? As the elf laid down again, Taryn realized what it was. There were twenty-one prone forms in the clearing. Denithir commanded a score of elves plus Ren. With Taryn and Liri that came to twenty-four . . . and there were four sentries. Who was the extra person?
Taryn's eyes snapped to his own blanket beside Liri and he suddenly saw a slight movement of a hand moving in Liri's direction.
Adrenaline kicked in and Taryn charged into the camp, leaping over still forms and arriving at Liri's sleeping form a split second later. Amazingly the person had already gotten to his feet and leapt away, almost as if he'd sensed the sudden approach. How would that be possible?
Taryn wasn’t about to let him go. With the speed of thought Taryn raced across the clearing to overtake the intruder at the edge of the woods. Reaching out to him he snatched his hand back as a dagger flashed out and almost sliced into his palm. Without stopping he lunged and wrapped both arms around the figure's chest, pinning his arms. The intruder struggled and tried to bring his dagger up to cut the entrapping arms, but Taryn twisted his body in midair and tried to slam him into the ground.
Somehow the intruder got his feet under him and darted into the shadows with Taryn right behind him. Realizing his opponent had training in combat, Taryn sped after him more cautiously and began to overtake him again.
Whirling, the intruder flung an arm up, sending something spinning towards him. Instinct kicked in and Taryn reached out his hand without slowing down to snatch the throwing knife right out of the air. Flinging it straight back at its thrower, he heard a low chuckle from the fleeing form as he also caught it.
Out of nowhere an arrow zipped past Taryn and caught the thick cloak on the intruder’s shoulder, pulling him up short as it pinned him to a tree. Taryn bounded straight forward, knowing what was coming. Only Liri had the skill to shoot into darkness and hit a speeding target. He wasn’t disappointed. Two more arrows sped past Taryn’s head to embed themselves, further fastening the intruder to the tree—until he shrugged out of his cloak and bolted.
But Taryn had caught up.
Without preamble he drew his father's sword and smacked the flat of the blade against the side of the man’s head, expecting it to end there, but he managed to roll with the blow so it didn’t knock him out. Dazed, he struggled to keep moving.
Despite himself, Taryn was impressed by the person's sheer tenacity as he bounded after him. The man had dodged behind trees and begun to run in a zigzag to avoid more arrows. He certainly would have escaped then—except Taryn was faster.
Instead of chasing him directly, Taryn leapt to the side and raced parallel to his path. Seconds later the intruder passed Taryn and dodged in front of him. Coming around a tree, the man ran straight into Taryn’s outstretched arm, and the force caused him to do a back flip before landing flat on his stomach with a low "Ooof."
Not wanting to give him another opportunity, Taryn used the knife edge of his hand to knock the man out. Even then he'd already begun to roll over and get to his feet.
Taryn reached down and lifted the unconscious man to his shoulder. Checking to make sure he was truly out, he carried him back to the camp where Liri had roused everyone to full alert. When he entered the clearing he laid the man down and motioned for someone to tie him up before he could come to his senses.
Denithir darted to his side. "By Skorn, what was that all about?" he hissed.
Taryn took a moment to catch his breath as he shook his head. "I have no idea. I spotted him in the camp and ran him down." He glanced at the elf tying him. "Watch him, though, he’s wily and a good fighter."
A light touch on his elbow drew his attention to the opposite side. Liri looked up at him, her eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you so much, Taryn. He'd taken my mother's pendant!"
She bent and rifled through the man's clothes until she found the thin gold chain and reverently returned it to her neck. "I hope it hurt when he took you down," she said to the still form, her tone uncharacteristically venomous.
Questions bubbled around Taryn as more elves gathered around the thief, preventing Taryn from saying anything to Liri.
"Who is he?"
"What was he doing here?"
"How did he get into camp?"
"He didn't get past me!" Three different elves said in unison.
Denithir cut through the chatter with a growl, "He got past somebody." He glared at his soldiers for a moment. "Get back to your posts or back to sleep, we will figure this out in the morning. Kryll, put two on our guest. I don’t want him leaving us before we can have some answers."
Taryn slipped to Liri's side and whispered, "Thanks for the support earlier. It's always nice to know that you're watching my back."
She smiled and stifled a yawn. "You know I'll always be right behind you."
Unable to resist he added, "Thanks for missing me, too. A couple of those arrows came pretty close, you know."
Liri furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, but that only made her look cute. "Not close enough," she said in exasperation. Then she lightly punched him in the shoulder and laid down.
Taryn chuckled and returned to his sentry position. Their playful banter really had been their way of ensuring that each was all right. But their light conversation hadn't been able to dispel the tension that still blanketed the night like a fog. As he settled into his previous position behind the oak tree, he asked himself the same questions the elves had, and added a few of his own. Who would enter a heavily armed group of vigilant elves to steal something? And what was more, who had the ability? To Taryn, the latter question would be far more important.
*****
A light touch woke Taryn from a dream-filled sleep. Recognizing the touch made him smile before he opened his eyes. "Do I have to get up, Liri?"
A small fist slugged him in the shoulder; then its owner chuckled. Sighing, Taryn opened his eyes to the dim, early morning light. Stretchi
ng and yawning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. His watch had ended around four in the morning, so he'd only been asleep for a couple of hours.
Automatically his eyes sought out their prisoner and found him at the edge of the camp, bound and gagged.
"Why is he gagged?" he asked Kryll.
The elven soldier shrugged. "They said he wouldn’t shut up. I think he got on their nerves."
Taryn smirked at his response and caught Liri’s eye, knowing she wanted some answers as well. She caught his raised eyebrow and nodded towards the food that had been laid out. Food first, then answers, he understood her unspoken suggestion, so they quickly ate a breakfast of dried fruit and nuts before approaching the prisoner. The two elven guards nodded in his direction, with newfound respect in their eyes.
Crouching in front of the man, he took a moment and looked him over. For a human he'd been incredibly agile the night before, and his instincts and speed had been more like an elf than a human—but his features held no trace of elven blood. A strong, firm jaw, handsome face, and the dark blue eyes of the human race looked back at Taryn without fear. Short black hair, at the same time trimmed and a little wild, hung freely without cap or armored helm.
Taryn unbound the gag, and he immediately spat out the cloth. "What's with all the hostility?" he said and then pretended to glower at Liri. "I thought the elves were supposed to be peaceful?"
Taryn couldn’t help but smile at the true statement. "You could say that the times have called for more . . . caution than normal."
Liri leaned towards him, her expression intense. "Why did you steal my necklace?"
He shrugged even though his hands were tied behind his back. "It was pretty; I thought it would fetch a price."
Surprised by his frank honesty, Taryn exclaimed, "You're a thief!"
"Guilty as charged," the man said with a wide grin. "My name is Jack Myst, one of the best thieves you'll ever meet." He winked and smiled roguishly at Liri.