“What does it mean?” Morlonn asked. He rode up a little closer to where they were talking and his horse stomped his feet as if to make a point to Morlonn that he did not want to get any closer to the dead gront.
“I don’t know. I don’t know of any spell that Ra-Corsh could have over this gront that would last once Ra-Corsh left the area. The farther the wizard travels from the area, the weaker the spell, but that doesn’t explain how tough this one was to kill. I hit his head with my sword and it bounced off like I had hit an anvil…this is all too strange.”
“What about Fyaa?” Tharn asked after finally coming to the group for the first time since the fight began.
“I’m not sure. Fyaa is very mysterious. She is not part of this world, so I suppose anything is possible,” he admitted.
“Alaezdar,” Morlonn broke in. “I think I can find this gront’s trail and that can lead us to where he came from.
“Good. Scout ahead and we will wait here. We will rest up and eat before we continue on, but be careful. They could be setting up another ambush. This gront could have been a plant so they would know where we are, or he could be sent just to slow us down. Either way, it seems like they know we are following. Oh, and see if you can find Rivlok’s horse while you are at it.”
Morlonn smiled, jumped on his horse and sped off to the east. While he was away, Alaezdar, Rivlok and Tharn searched the body of the gront. Alaezdar took the animal-hide off its back, but found it useless because it was merely the rough hide of a boar. Their own leather and iron armor would serve as greater protection to them then the gront’s so-called armor.
When Alaezdar pulled the pelt off the gront, though, he found the brand of the Fire-Gront on his chest. The mark had been branded with a hot iron directly on his chest and it had left a scar that was hairless, so the brand was clear and evident. It was the shape of a human hand with a fireball through the center. Alaezdar knew this was a definitive mark of the tribe of gronts led by the wizard Ra-Corsh.
The tribe got their name when Ra-Corsh had stumbled across a small tribe of wandering gronts. They were a small group banished from a much larger tribe. This small tribe had seen him wandering the forest alone, and they decided if they could kill such a wizard, they could bring his body back home and win their places back into their tribe.
In a burst of confidence the gronts took the opportunity to attack the wizard, but the fight did not last long as Ra-Corsh’s magic was too powerful. The final blow was when Ra-Corsh sent a flame spear towards them, catching some of the forest trees on fire. He then cast a freeze spell onto the gronts, so that they could not move, while the fire burned around them.
They pleaded for mercy and Ra-Corsh promised to extinguish the fire and let them live if they would serve him. With visions of revenge upon other tribes, and eager to have such power on their side, the gronts eagerly agreed to the deal. Ra-Corsh extinguished the fire and hammered out the guidelines for his new servants. The first test of their loyalty was to take a brand on their chest to signify their new organization, the hand of Ra-Corsh and the spell that had begun the creation of the Fire-Gronts.
Alaezdar brought the brand to the attention of Rivlok and Tharn.
“For some reason,” he said, “Ra-Corsh holds great power over these gronts. I don’t quite know what that power is, but they seem loyal enough to die for him, even by doing things that are very uncommon for gronts, like this, setting up ambushes in trees.”
“Maybe they know you, Alaezdar,” Rivlok stated with a cocky half smile. “And they don’t like you.”
Alaezdar shook his head. He was not in the mood for Rivlok’s half joking insults.
“Look here,” Alaezdar said and reached for the gront’s pouch on his belt. He opened it up and dumped its contents on the ground. Out came a rat’s head, a half-eaten fish, and a piece of meat wrapped in a large leaf, with maggots crawling all over it.
“Lunch!” Tharn laughed.
Rivlok grimaced and Alaezdar just smiled.
Chapter 13
Throughout the night and long into the next morning they ran.
Aaelie could smell the sweet pinesap as the sun rose silently. The morning dew dripped off the clustered pine trees, and the trees steamed as the morning sun evaporated the beads of moisture from the previous night. The gronts pushed hard through the thick foliage as if it did not exist. Three gronts led the way with their short swords and cut down anything that might block their path or slow down the main group.
A few hundred feet behind was the main group that had Aaelie. Behind them another group followed that made certain that if the one ahead of them slowed down, they were going to make her feel the wrath of gronts with idle time. Gronts were easily bored, so if they felt that they needed something to keep occupied, they knew they might find some entertainment through Aaelie. Therefore, to protect Aaelie, and some of the gronts from getting into trouble with Ra-Corsh, the group to the rear pressed on harder than the others ever would.
As soon as they had captured Aaelie, they tied her hands and waist together with reinforced twine. In the beginning they dragged her for the most part against her will. She fought, kicked and tried to escape while screaming at the top of her lungs, but no avail. No one heard her. The villagers were still fighting the fires, protecting their homes, or hiding and still in shock about what had just happened to their peaceful village. They would be working all night long and into the day licking their own wounds. It wouldn’t be for many hours before any one of the villagers would realize that she had been taken.
Eventually Aaelie gave in and remained silent, but she did nothing to help the cause of her abductors. She let them drag her on her back while she dug her heals into the dirt, if not to slow them down, then at least to leave somewhat of a trail for someone from the village to follow.
When the gronts got tired of dragging her, they stood her up, beat her and threatened to do worse to her if she would not walk. Two gronts held her from each side with her hands outstretched, and tied them to their waists. She ran along beside them, unashamed, even though her dress was torn to tatters from the waist down and her braided hair had long since come undone.
Two more gronts then tied a twine around her waist and kept it taught so that she could not move in any direction except to follow. If she strayed to one side or the other, they cinched the twine tight about her waist. More often than not that took the air out of her lungs and brought her to the ground. Sometimes the gronts would pull the twine tight out of boredom and for the sheer delight of watching her in pain and listening to her scream. The gronts would laugh amongst each other at the thrill of playing with their new prized toy.
As they ran, Aaelie watched the gronts with disgust. Their awkward bodies and oversized thighs caused their torsos to wobble as they ran, and if she hadn’t been in so much pain, she would have laughed at how utterly pathetic they looked. Even worse, their odd shaped figures caused their bellies and chests to shake and bounce in unison.
How could these creatures even fight effectively, she thought to herself. Amidst all the pain and torture she was going through, she felt even more embarrassed that she had been captured by something so crude and clumsy as these gronts.
The gronts, meanwhile, continued to taunt her every chance they got. She even began to dread the time that they took to rest, for the gronts, not being preoccupied with keeping their wobbly bodies moving forward, found many other fun things to do with their prisoner. The first time they stopped, they decided that she was hungry and tried to force a live frog down her throat. The frog wasn’t past her lips when Aaelie found the opportunity to kick one gront between the legs. She managed to laugh as the gront fell down. The frog, as well, fell unharmed and hopped away to safety.
The second time they stopp
ed, most of the gronts circled around her, ripped what was left of her evening dress to shreds, leaving it barely clinging to her body, and only her undergarments still kept her from being completely exposed. They pulled her hair and punched her face with their pale, milky white fists and waited to see how fast her face would swell and bruise. When it did, they pointed and laughed, proud of their accomplished work.
Aaelie eventually noticed that their leaders did not approve of this action. As she lay in the dirt, bleeding and swelling, the gronts continued to kick her in the ribs and back. She tucked in the fetal position and rolled with every kick, but exposed a new area each time for the gronts to exploit. Coming close to losing consciousness, she heard the demon woman come close and the gronts scrambled and ran away when she approached. None of the gronts wanted anything to do with this witch they knew as Fyaa.
Fyaa’s body tensed up and the small hairs on it ignited. Her tight-knit chain armor turned bright red and was close to melting off. He body seemed to expand from the heat and it looked as if she was floating a few inches above the ground. Aaelie heard her scream a name -- the name of the wizard she guessed, because a man in dark robes then appeared and cowered before her.
“I want no more torturing of our prize!” she yelled through gritted teeth. Her facial features were no longer visible through the flames. “We need her alive! Ra-Corsh, if you cannot handle your gronts, then all of this will be for nothing. You will not get what you need and I definitely will not get what I need. If we fail in this, you will not live to see another day…no, you will, but you will beg me to let you die before I am through with you! Do you understand?”
Ra-Corsh went to one knee before she was finished speaking.
“I will take care of it,” he said and he stood and ran to corral up his gronts while Fyaa stood above the curled Aaelie. In her haze, Aaelie knew that she was in trouble. She had heard tales of Fyaa and her Birds of Fire, and this Ra-Corsh gave her a horrible feeling of dread and heartbreak.
Their last stop was not a planned stop. They had been traveling for a full day when Ra-Corsh and Fyaa began arguing. Fyaa once again engulfed herself in flames, and her now flaming wings sprouted out of her back and she flew away and did not return for nearly an hour. During that time the gronts once again tried to have their way with Aaelie, but Ra-Corsh stopped them every time they tried anything.
In their last attempt, the gronts had surrounded Aaelie, but Ra-Corsh angrily spoke to them in their native language and by the sound of it to Aaelie, and by the way the gronts were reacting, he wasn’t offering pleasantries to them. When he finished speaking, the gronts grunted in fear, but danced about in what looked to be a mix of fear and excited delight. They pushed each other around, knocking some to the ground, and others even kicked the ones that were down and seemed to be laughing as they did so. Eventually three gronts picked up one of the fallen gronts and threw him at the feet of Ra-Corsh.
The chosen gront fell prostrate before the wizard, grabbed the bottom of his dark robe and kissed his feet as he did so. Ra-Corsh raised his hands above his head and pointed to the sky with both hands. Calling upon his Kronn, he felt it surge from the ground into the soul of his being and course through his veins.
The gront stood erect and did not move. Ra-Corsh touched his hands together and sparks began to charge between his fingers, eventually forming a small sphere of sparks. He grabbed the gront’s head, said a few words and then sent the gront running back towards the village.
Ra-Corsh walked over to Aaelie as he removed the hood of his cloak. Aaelie turned her back to him, but the gront that was holding the rope to her waist snapped it and she bent over in pain. Realizing what the gront meant by whipping the rope like that, she turned to face Ra-Corsh.
“My name, as you may have heard, is Ra-Corsh,” he said as he scratched his black tightly shaven beard with his knuckles downward repeatedly. His hair was thin and had a slightly receding hairline. His mustache formed the shape of a T beginning above his upper lip and continuing down from the center underneath his lower lip to his chin. He looked at Aaelie with mock compassion in his dark brown eyes. “I assure you, no more harm will befall you from my crude grontish friends. I sent the one who beat you on a very crucial mission. He will either succeed or die.”
He paused and looked at Aaelie for a response, but got nothing from her.
“I suspect that we are being followed. During our raid I noticed among your villagers is a swordsman. Who is he? Where is he from? He surely is not a typical farmer, native to your village.”
Aaelie turned her head away to show her defiance.
“Look at me!” he shouted.
Aaelie did not turn her head, but instead clinched her eyes as tightly as she could. She expected him to strike her for her defiance. Instead, Ra-Corsh began to mumble and twist his right hand until Aaelie began to feel an urge to turn her head.
Unable to resist, she turned and looked at Ra-Corsh.
“Ahh, isn’t that better my love?” Ra-Corsh gushed. “Now tell me, who is following us?”
Aaelie tried to turn her head away, but could not and the rage inside her made her eyes water. Ra-Corsh mistook her tears as fear and placed his hand on her cheek.
“It will be fine, little sweet one. You have no reason to fear me.”
Aaelie turned back around to spit in his face.
“I don’t know who it is!”
“How can you not know?” he said, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and taking the spit and rubbing it back on her lips. He smiled and he flattened out his palm and ran it past her neck and around to the back of her hair. He pulled hard and forced her to look upwards.
“I am sorry that this may hurt. You are so very beautiful and your friends must care about you very much.”
Aaelie bit her bottom lip to keep herself from releasing any sound that might give him some satisfaction in thinking she was showing weakness.
“Please, tell me, and maybe I will have some idea if my servant gront that I just sent back will live or die. You must understand that this is his punishment for harming you. He can redeem himself by killing your friends, or even wounding and slowing them down. Otherwise he will be punished by sacrificing himself when they kill him.” Ra-Corsh let go of Aaelie’s hair and smiled at her. “You see, either way, I will gain valuable information. If my friend dies and does not return, I may not know exactly who is following us, but I will know that the swordsman is with them.”
“I…truly…do…not know,” Aaelie managed and glared at Ra-Corsh.
“Oh, but I think you do,” he responded mockingly. “I also do not think you know the severity of the situation you are in. You see, Fyaa is very angry with me and if she harms me, then nothing will stop the gronts from tearing you to pieces. Trust me, they would love nothing better than to do that. It would not be a quick death for you.”
“I do not know!” she snapped. “Probably the newcomer to village, but I do not know him!”
“Now we are getting somewhere. Where did he come from?”
“I don’t know. He never said.”
“You are not being very helpful. You need to help me, and I think in time you will.”
Aaelie lowered her head and began to sob.
“I will not. My father wouldn’t help your kind the last time a wizard like you came to our village, and I won’t help either.”
Ra-Corsh almost could not hear her, but he bent down again and lifted her chin. “So you think you know of my type? Curious. Who do you think we are?”
“A sorcerer came to our village and harassed my father and others, and then another group of swordsmen who were looking for them followed a few days later and killed my father. Now you and this witch come to our
village and destroy it.”
Ra-Corsh smiled.
“Yes, terrible things happen wherever we go, but we have a just cause. That man who came to your village is my mentor, Torz, and he will change this realm for the better, you will see. Do you know why he came to your tiny little village?”
“He was looking for somebody he thought was hiding in our village.”
“I see.” Ra-Corsh rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “Yes, we have been looking for this man, in fact, I believe the man I am looking for is following us. I have decided to take matters in my own hands. Instead of killing to find him, I have decided to steal something he cares about and make him come to me.”
“Why me, why?” Aaelie screamed at him.
She covered her face and began to cry heavily, her chest heaving out of control.
“Well. We need to move on. Maybe we can finish this conversation later and you can tell me if this swordsman really is who I think he is, after you’ve tired out from running.”
Ra-Corsh turned around and commanded the gronts to move on. Aaelie once again followed at a slow jog, but the gronts did not ease up with their occasional taunts or with hitting her as she ran.
Chapter 14
Alaezdar and company continued trekking east, slowly following the trail Morlonn had left them, when Morlonn himself returned. They still had a few hours of daylight left so they were encouraged when he returned with news that he found their tracks. He reassured Alaezdar that the ones they pursued were still on foot and were only a day ahead of them, if not less.
Alaezdar and the others mounted up. Since Rivlok’s horse had abandoned them, he rode with Tharn. They took advantage of the rest of the daylight and ran hard, but they stopped shortly before the sun went down.
The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1) Page 17