“I haven’t actually seen you change from one person to another,” she said, shamefaced. “I’ve just seen your ears like an elf’s, and that fuzz on your face from today. Oh, I do recall your nose being very wide at one time. I don’t mean to be ignorant, but you’ve never explained it to me. You leave a lot for me to ponder.” She looked back at him and gasped.
“Is something wrong, Maefon?” Lord Darkken said in his own voice, but he had the face and body of an orc.
CHAPTER 48
“How did you do that so fast?” Maefon said, marveling. She let go of his arm and stepped away. Lord Darkken’s entire appearance had changed. He was a full orc, wearing a suit of ringmail covered in a black tunic. He carried a lash and a club just like the ones Maefon saw in Slaver Town, through the Pool of Eversight. “Your power astounds me.”
“It is impressive, and it should be. After all, I have dragon blood in my veins, and with dragon blood comes magic, which has allowed me to master many mystic things.” Lord Darkken shimmered, returning to his normal self. “Do you understand how I did it?”
“I’ve been studying your tomes, but I’ve yet to come across a spell such as that, at least one that you command with thought and not words.” She hugged his arm. “That was a very powerful illusion, but I thought that you transformed and it faded gradually.”
“I can do both. The illusions are quicker to execute, but easier to detect. A full transformation spell has the more lasting and realistic effect. But I like the illusion. It gets me through in a pinch.”
Maefon squeezed his arm. “I want such power.” Her mouth watered at the thought of being able to change form at any time. She would be the ultimate Caligin then. “Will you teach me?”
He lifted the index finger of his free hand. “Some things cannot be taught. Like faeries and pixies who are born of magic, it all comes very naturally. As for you, well, you are elven, and very adept in drawing from the mystic river, but it will take much more study and years of hard work. It comes much easier to me, but I’ve worked for it.” His eyes narrowed. His angular jawline clenched. “Very hard for it. Centuries’ worth.”
“I have the time and the devotion,” she said. “And I’ve grown so much in a short time.”
Lord Darkken looked down on her with an arched brow. “Show me something.”
“I’d be happy to.” She stepped away from him to the other side of the road. A stone the size of her head lay at her feet. She spoke quickly, weaving magic elven words. Her body sucked in energy from the earth. A brisk wind came. The grasses alongside the road bent. Her hands showed a purple aura. The stone rose from the ground. With a flip of her left hand, she flung it high in the air. Pointing at it with her right hand, a ray of fire shot from her fingers, striking the rock. The stone exploded into debris and dust that the wind spread over the grasses.
Lord Darkken applauded. “A fine execution of a very offensive spell. I like it. You could kill many with that when the time comes, but I want you to try spells that are subtler but every bit as dangerous. We’ll need it.”
She nodded as the glow on her fingers went out. “It would be my pleasure.” It felt good unleashing her power. Her body trembled. A hunger grew inside her to use more magic. She tired of holding it all in. She wanted more.
“Come along, now,” he said, twisting one of the copper rings on his fingers. “I still need to finish telling my story about Nath. You see, as I observed him, suffering in the stockades, pounding rocks with hammers, and starving in his cell…” With his fingers adorned in copper, he spread them out before him, palms up, and shrugged. “I became bored. It happens to me, very often. Anyway, as I’m in the midst of gaining his confidence by feeding him cream cakes—”
“Cream cakes?”
“Yes, I enjoy baking, don’t you know that?”
“Nooo,” she said, stretching out the word. “I’ve never seen you do anything more than open a bottle of wine, and even that is beneath you.”
“True, but I have to act the part from time to time. Anyway,” he said, nonchalantly, “this dryad comes along. Or, a portion of a dryad. Now, listen to this, she has fallen in love with Nath and had herself, and a bugbear comrade, become captured, just to free him.”
Maefon’s heart hopped in her chest. “Fallen in love with Nath.” A spark ignited the blood in her veins. Her breath quickened, and the palms of her hands glistened with new sweat. “A dryad?”
“Yes, women born of the trees in the wilderness, but I believe this one was the result of one mating with a human at some point.” He glanced at her. “Maefon, you look pale. Did you drain yourself with that spell?”
“Perhaps,” she said, wiping her palms on the side of her pants. But her heart was racing like a charging horse. The thought of Nath being with another woman infuriated her. She played it off by saying, “It was the first time I unleashed that spell. I think the excitement got the best of me, but I’m fine. Please, continue.”
He patted her back with a heavy hand. “I understand. You work very hard to impress me, and I appreciate it. As I was saying, this dryad, an astonishing woman of great beauty, risked her own life to save Nath’s. Or at least free him.”
Maefon stumbled on the loose stones on the road.
Lord Darkken steadied her. “Are you well? Elves are always surefooted.”
“Just finish the story,” she fired back. “I’ve taken countless steps in my life; can’t I slip once?”
“That is an interesting point. You’ve probably walked thousands of miles in your life, and the odds are that you are bound to slip once.” He massaged his clean-shaven chin. “You’ve given me new perspective. Continuing. This dryad, Calypsa, as moony-eyed as a farm girl seeing her first legionnaire bristling in his shining armor, hatched a plan to free Nath. This little woodland minx turned Slaver Town inside out. She caught the orcs with their trousers down past their ankles, and made fools of them all. It was a total riot. Surprises like that make the best entertainment. There was a battle in the quarry, a wagon chase, skirmishes of slaves and prisoners against the guards and the slaver lords all over the town. It was a complete debacle. This dryad, whew, what she did that day made for great work that would rival that of the Caligin.” He elbowed Maefon. “The elves couldn’t have made a better mess themselves.”
“So, what happened?”
“Eh, well, they escaped the city, only to crash a few miles from the town. Nath, they reported, was whisked away. The dryad and bugbear were captured.”
“Good,” she said, speaking of the dryad.
“Good to what?”
“Uh, that Nath escaped, how you wanted him to escape?”
“Yes, but it sounded like you were more concerned about the bugbear and dryad. That would be odd, seeing how they are irrelevant.”
Maefon pushed in another direction. “So, you teleported Nath elsewhere? And you know where he is?”
“Not exactly, I just know where I left him, but I’m confident that I know where he is going.”
Aggravated, she tried to stamp her own jealousy down. Why did the thought of another woman in Nath’s life infuriate her? She felt cheated somehow, which didn’t make any sense because she loved Chazzan, who Lord Darkken killed. For some reason, she just wanted that dryad, Calypsa, dead. At the same time, Lord Darkken angered her. He still hadn’t told the entire story about what he did with Nath. She wasn’t even sure if any of it was truth. Just play along. He’ll only show you what he wants to show you. “So where is he going then?”
“The same place we’re going now. Riegelwood.”
CHAPTER 49
On a chilly, breezy day, Nath and Hacksaw hunkered down in the woodland. Nath had Hacksaw’s bow in his hand. His eyes were fixed on a deer that stood prominently with a rack of horns with twelve points that almost touched the lower branches. Hacksaw reached an arrow over to Nath and under his breath said, “That’s a long shot. We need to get closer before you take it.”
“I don’t think we are going
to get any closer than this,” Nath said, taking the arrow and notching it on the string. They were downwind, surrounded by the rustling of leaves. The deer stood at least seventy-five yards away. It bent its neck to the grass, then its eyes twitched. It froze and looked their way.
“Take it,” Hacksaw said. “Quick.”
Nath pulled back the bowstring and aimed.
The deer sprang away, vanishing into the willowacks.
“Ah, barnacles!” Hacksaw slapped his face. “Well, you wouldn’t have hit it anyway. It was too far, and those lower branches would have altered the trajectory.” He slapped Nath on the shoulder as he rose. “But, it’s always a joy to try.”
“I would have hit it, for certain,” Nath said.
“No, you wouldn’t have. Besides, how long has it been since you fired a bow?”
If Nath were to guess, it must have been over thirty years ago. Master Elween and the Trahaydeen worked with him when he was younger. He learned about most kinds of weapons and how to use them. “It’s been a few years, I guess. I was younger.”
“Yes, well, next time I’ll take the shot.”
“I would have hit it.”
“You need some practice first, but I don’t want to waste arrows. You never know when you might need them.” Hacksaw peered about. “But I’ll give you one shot.” He jabbed two fingers in the direction of where the deer once stood. “Can you see that red elm just behind where the deer once stood? It has a knothole in it. Aim for that.”
“I see it.” The red elm’s bark had a crimson-like stain on its trunk. Nath closed an eye, took aim, and stretched the bowstring back.
“Whoa now, you need to ease your breathing. Only hold a little bit in,” Hacksaw advised.
Nath exhaled through his nose and softly said, “I know.” He pulled the string back farther, altered his aim a little upward, and focused on the knothole.
“Nice and easy.”
“Do you mind? I’m trying to aim.”
“Sorry.”
Nath released. The arrow zipped across the woodland and vanished.
“Did you hit it?” Hacksaw said, squinting his eyes. “I didn’t hear it hit.”
“I hit it, dead center. But I’m not so sure that I killed it, and I don’t think trees are very good for eating.” He handed over the bow to Hacksaw.
“Let’s take a look,” Hacksaw said.
They marched across the forest, making a straight line for the red elm tree. Nath hopped over a dead tree and ducked underneath the low-hanging branches of another. He came right up to the tree that he shot. The feathered shaft was sunk almost dead center in the knothole. He opened his hand to it and smiled. “See, I wouldn’t lie to you. And I could have made that shot at an even greater distance. I have great eyesight. Like a hawk.”
“Yes, it’s a fine shot. Perhaps a lucky shot.” Hacksaw yanked the arrow from the tree and eyed it. “The tip is still good.” He slipped it back into his quiver. His eyes narrowed. He placed one hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Is something wrong?” Nath asked.
“I have a feeling that it was something else that spooked that deer. Not us.” Hacksaw’s head turned, eyes slowing scanning the woods. “Do you hear that?”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Clatch-zip!
A crossbow bolt struck the red elm tree.
Thunk!
The surrounding woodland came to life. Small men with hatchets, wearing armor made from hide and skins, raced right at them.
Hacksaw drew his sword and screamed, “Goblins!”
CHAPTER 50
Standing just over four feet tall, the wiry, fiendish-looking goblins were like smaller versions of Rond the bugbear, with large pointed ears and broad mouths with sharp teeth. Their ruddy skin was greenish brown, and their eyeballs were yellow. They attacked with the ferocity of wild dogs.
“Don’t hold nothing back,” Hacksaw said, brandishing his sword. Green Tongue’s blade glowed with a rosy amber hue. “They’ll tear you apart.” He thrust his sword into a charging goblin’s belly. “No mercy!”
Three goblins rushed Nath at the same time. Weaponless, he jumped over top of all three of them, doing a somersault in midair. The moment he landed, he kicked a goblin in the back, knocking it into the other two. “I could use a weapon!”
“You should always carry a spare, or two!” Slashing back and forth, keeping three goblins at bay, Hacksaw tossed him the bow. “Try this!”
Nath snatched it out of the air. He swung the bow downward, clocking a rushing goblin on the middle of the head. It winced, growled, and swung its hatchet at Nath’s knees. The nasty, dirty little men, with their tangled hair tied up with bones, encircled Nath. One darted in, chopping, followed by the other. Nath parried with the bow, twisting left and right, catching their swings one at a time.
“Quit dancing with them and start killing them!” Hacksaw roared with a wild look in his eyes. He slashed with a long, broad stroke. Green Tongue removed a goblin’s head from its shoulders. The goblins let out a frenzied schreeeeeel sound. “And remember, it makes them madder when you kill them. They take it personally.”
“Good to know!” Nath said, blocking another attack. He’d left Stone Smiter with the horses when they went out hunting. He didn’t even have a dagger on him. Never again! He jabbed the tip of the bow’s edge into the biggest goblin’s neck. It fell to its knees, clutching its neck. Suddenly, everything seemed to slow down for Nath. The moment of surprise passed. His natural speed and instincts kicked in.
The smallest goblin chopped at Nath’s chest. Nath stepped into it. The hatchet banged off Nath’s breastplate. Nath punched the goblin hard in its broad nose. The goblin staggered back, shook its neck, and came at Nath again. While blocking the blows of the third goblin, Nath quickly jabbed his fist into the smallest goblin’s face half a dozen times. It fell flat on its back, holding its bloody nose.
Using the bow, Nath swept the legs out from underneath the third goblin. He kicked it in the ribs so hard they cracked. Rising to their feet, all three of the goblins who had attacked him scurried away, clutching their noses, necks, and ribs.
“Why did you let them get away?” Hacksaw said angrily. His face was covered in sweat, and he puffed for breath. Goblin blood dripped from his sword. “You’re supposed to kill them!” He pointed two fingers at three dead goblins sprawled out on the forest floor. “See! Like that!”
“They fled. I’m sure they won’t be back.” Nath pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’m pretty sure we scared them.”
“Oh, they’ll be back, and there will be more of them. You can count on that.” Hacksaw cleaned his sword on the fur armor of the headless goblin. “You just can’t let evil things like them go. It always comes back to haunt you. Come on, let’s just get back to the road and ride toward Quintuklen. The greater the distance, the better.”
“Am I supposed to apologize that I didn’t kill them?”
“Those are goblin raiders. They hunt in small packs, but they are a part of a much larger one. I have to admit, I’m surprised that they are lurking this far north in the woods, but they move about like nomads, killing and stealing anything that they think they can overpower. And because they got away, they’ll end up killing someone else.” Hacksaw took his own dagger from his belt and handed it to Nath. “So, yes, you should apologize, not to me, but to the family of the dead that they will kill later.” He slammed Green Tongue back in his scabbard. “Let’s go.”
As they made their way back to the horses, Nath pondered Hacksaw’s words. He’d never deeply considered the ramifications of inaction. What if Hacksaw was right and the goblins did kill others and he could have stopped it?
I can’t be responsible for that, can I? But it makes sense.
Ahead, Hacksaw walked with a limp. There was a bloody gash on his upper thigh. “Hacksaw, you are wounded?”
“Yes, that’s what happens most time
s in a fight. I’ll stitch it up.” The bearded man pushed through leafy branches. “Huh! I’m just glad that my sword didn’t freeze in my scabbard.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s an expression that soldiers sometimes say. Sometimes, when battle erupts, some men quake in their boots. With tongues cleaving to their mouths, they stand as still as a post. Their extremities lock up, and they can barely breathe. Those fellas don’t last long in a fight. I’m thankful my body didn’t fail me today.”
“You seemed more than prepared for those goblins. You made quick work of them. You’re a fine swordsman.”
“If you only saw me in my prime. I would have downed all six of them.” Hacksaw stopped. Twenty yards away in a clearing, the horses nickered. “Nath, don’t hesitate in a fight. If I ever second-guessed myself when I fought those little monsters, I’d be as dead as those little monsters. Do you understand me?”
Nath nodded.
“Good. Have you ever stitched a wound?”
“Uh… sort of.”
“Well, today you are going to become an expert. I’d do it myself, but it’s best that you learn as well. Besides, I’d like to smoke my pipe. It’s a tradition I practice after battle, especially with no pumpkin cider around.”
CHAPTER 51
The rest of the journey greeted Nath and Hacksaw with warmer weather. They switched roads a few times, passing by caravans of people. Nath greeted them with a smile. Several women and young ladies giggled as they turned away from him. A little girl in a blue dress with flowers sewn all over it gave him a sunflower. She skipped away laughing.
Hacksaw shook his head at him. “You draw too much attention to yourself. Try frowning, keeping your head down or something.”
“But I don’t want to frown. I did enough of that in Slaver Town,” Nath said, shifting in his saddle. He urged his horse forward alongside Hacksaw. “Listen, this is the most peace that I’ve had since I left home, and I want to enjoy it. So far, Nalzambor has been nothing short of a horrible place. How can this beautiful world be that way? The trees are filled with life that hums with its own special song. The water is fresh, the fish ample in supply, but just about everyone I’ve met has been a terror.”
Enslaved: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 2 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles) Page 15