* * * * *
Liam awoke to the sound of soft voices. Tree bark scratched against his cheek. He rolled over and opened his eyes. The morning sun filtered through the leaves tinting the world in a shimmer of pale green.
Sitting up and looking out from the platform he could see why the elves had picked this tree for a safe haven. A vista of treetops stretched as far as the eye could see. Where the sun touched the top most branches, blooms of stunning color burst forth. Each bloom competing for the attention of thousands of flutterbys that danced on the morning breeze. The beauty of the day washed him clean of the night fears.
As he sat mesmerized by the scene in front of him Willow joined him. “A true marvel is it not?” she asked.
Liam’s eyes shone with wonder. “I never guessed all this existed just above my head.”
Willow looked out across the trees. “Yes, we are lucky to be here this time of year. There is always beauty here but the flutterbys are my favorite.” Turning back to Liam she offered him a package wrapped in leaves. “If you are hungry try this. It's mostly nuts and dried berries. The elves call it fruit of the forest.”
Before he could unwrap his breakfast, Mica appeared from the other side of the tree still dressed in nothing but his boots and half of the torn blanket. Liam tried to hide his smile. He knew he looked just as silly, but Mica saw his grin and started to blush.
“It's about time you woke,” he said in a gruff voice. “The rest of the world’s been stirring for hours. Can we begin our journey now or will you be wanting your breakfast in bed?”
Willow gave Liam a wink and a sly smile. “Maybe you can have your breakfast while we walk. I think our friend finds the morning a little drafty.”
Liam coughed into his hand to keep from laughing out loud. He smiled and said, “We will meet you at the bottom of the tree.”
By the time Liam had gathered himself together, Mica had already tossed down the ladder and disappeared through the hole in the platform. He walked to the opening and looked down remembering last night's climb. He was not looking forward to getting back on the ladder, but he was sure he couldn’t just climb down the tree like Willow.
Sitting down, he swung his feet over the edge. Gripping the platform with one hand and the ladder with the other, he transferred his weight to one of the rungs. His breath caught as the ladder swung out dragging his hand free from the platform. With a wild swing he clutched the ladder with both hands. It jerked to the side, but as soon as Liam managed to center his weight the ladder stopped swinging. After that he was careful to keep his weight balanced in the center and the climb down was much easier.
Willow must have been watching him from above because once he moved away from the ladder she hauled it back up to store it on the platform. Soon there was rustling overhead. Willow dropped out of the branches and flowed down the trunk using her boots and fingertips to slow her decent.
As Willow walked towards them Mica said to Liam in a low voice, “The wonders of this grove are pale compared to her.”
Liam turned slightly towards Mica and raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the first time he had ever heard Mica give a girl a compliment. Before he could say anything, Willow had joined them.
“Well, are you boys ready to collect your trousers from the Dryad?” asked Willow.
From her smile Liam could tell that she was enjoying every minute of their discomfort. He was expecting Mica’s temper to flare at her teasing so his response surprised him.
“Nothing could stand before us, with you beside us.” His left hand gripped the knot at his waist, and he made a deep bow. With a sweep of his right arm he said, “Lead on!”
Willow and Liam both burst into laughter. With a curtsey befitting a queen, Willow accepted Mica’s arm and the three of them walked off towards the Dryad’s pond.
With Willow’s help they had no trouble finding the pond. Just as she predicted their clothes lay on a large rock near a gnarly old willow. The boys dressed quickly. Soon they were climbing out of the grove.
Liam was looking forward to getting back on the cart and bumping down the road. One quick check for the door when Willow wasn’t looking and they could be on their way.
He watched the ridgeline expecting to see Little Smoky gazing down at them, but there was no sign of the donkey. They scrambled up the last few feet. Liam anxiously scanned the meadow. His stomach knotted. It was deserted. Dumbfounded, he turned to Mica.
“Isn’t this where we left the cart?” Panic gripped Liam and he frantically checked the meadow again. There was no sign of the donkey or the cart.
“Losing things seems to be a habit with you,” Willow said.
Mica said nothing, but slowly paced the meadow in ever widening circles. Suddenly he stopped and picked up something. “Lit' Smoky’s lead rope.”
Liam followed the rope to where it was still tied to the stake. There lay the ax Mica had used to pound it into the ground.
This was definitely the place. Someone had untied the donkey, and stolen the cart and the door with it. Liam wanted to cry. If only they had kept to the road. What was the Doormaster going to say? What was he going to tell his parents? With the door gone, his apprenticeship was over.
Mica and Willow walked back toward him talking together.
“The tracks lead northward, across the road,” Mica said. “I know of no towns out that way.”
“They have no need of a town. They are heading for a cave.”
“Cave?”
“That’s where you’ll find goblins.”
“How do you know they’re goblins?” Liam asked.
“Can you not smell them? Their reek is everywhere. Unless we find them soon, they’ll be roasting your donkey for dinner.”
Mica’s jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. “We need to find them, and soon.”
“Mind if I tag along?” asked Willow. “The goblins have stolen from me before and I would welcome a chance to even the score.”
Liam glanced once at Mica who gave a faint nod. “We could use the help.”
Mica and Willow followed the faint cart tracks through the tall grass. Liam's stomach knotted. He'd never been in a real fight before, but he wasn't going to let his friends go alone. He gripped the ax and trudged along behind them, determined to do his part.
Mica stopped at the bottom of a small green hill. The grass was matted down and chunks of sod had been torn up.
“What happened here?” Liam asked.
Mica examined the ground. “Lit' Smoky is putting up a fight.”
“It would appear your donkey is in no hurry to become their servant. If she continues to slow them down we may be able to catch them before they reach their cave.”
As the hours passed they continued to find evidence of Little Smoky’s distaste of goblins. Freshly torn sod and scuffed earth made it clear they were closing the gap.
Lacking Mica's skill to read the signs, Liam followed behind with the ax weighing heavily on his shoulder. So far he had been of little use on the trip. Mica was the one who knew how to handle the donkey cart and was skilled with a bow. Willow had provided shelter, understood the dryads, and was proving herself an accomplished tracker. All he had done so far was to talk Mica into visiting the grove. Look how that turned out. He shifted the ax and hoped he wouldn't fail when they met the goblins.
His foot struck a rock and he stumbled forward. The landscape had changed while he was lost in thought. Stony ground now replaced the grass. They had tracked the cart into an area of giant rocks. A well-worn path twisted among large boulders, each bigger than the last. They skirted around one of the rocks, and heard the faint sound of angry voices. Cautiously, they crept forward. The voices grew louder until they could make out the words.
“Can’t you turn that stupid beast around, Morris?”
“Shut your gob, Philip. We’d have been there by now if you could drive.”
Willow peeked around the boulder, then quickly pulled back. “I believe we have found o
ur quarry,” she said in a low voice. “Your donkey is still putting up a brave fight, but it’s only a couple hundred yards to the cave.”
Mica pressed past her to survey the scene. He ducked back and thought for a minute. “The cave is too close. They'll have reinforcements before we can get the cart.”
“Let’s split up,” Willow said. “You go right. I’ll go left. We’ll have them in the crossfire. Liam, you take care of the cart. We’ll take care of the goblins.”
Before Liam could protest or ask questions, the two slipped off in opposite directions. Timidly he pressed his face against the rock and peered around.
One goblin yanked at Smoky’s bridle. A second goblin sat in the cart whipping the reins. Sweat lathered the donkey’s neck. Her wild eyes rolled in terror.
In a fit of rage the goblin in the cart threw down the reins. “Just slit the throat of the stupid beast, Morris. It’s less work to just drag in the carcass.”
Sun flashed off a dirty blade as Morris pulled a dagger from his ragged clothing. Liam’s hands felt clammy. Mica and Willow would never get in position in time to stop the goblins from killing Smoky. Rage filled him. Raising the ax over his head, he flung himself around the rock. A wild scream tore from his throat as he ran toward the cart.
Hearing the cry, Philip jumped up on the seat facing the back of the cart. Both goblins drew their swords. Morris dropped the bridle and turned with a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. From their throats came a series of short explosive barks.
The noise startled the donkey. Braying, Smoky threw her head in the air and bolted. The cart lunged forward, crashing into Morris and pitching Philip face down onto the bed of the cart. The fallen reins caught in the seat jerking Smoky's head to the right. Liam caught up to the circling cart just as Morris struggled to his feet.
Liam swung his ax in a wild arc. It glanced off the goblin's helmet with a loud clang. Morris slumped back to the ground. Dropping the ax, Liam caught Smoky’s reins.
“Easy girl. Whoa there.” He patted her neck. The donkey stomped and snorted. Finally she stood still, but the cart began to rock. Over the side rail appeared Philip’s angry face. His nose was bent. Blood flowed from a gash over one eye. Liam followed the goblin’s gaze to where the ax lay on the ground. Philip grinned showing a mouth full of sharp, yellowed teeth.
Throwing one leg over the side, Philip began climbing out of the cart. Muttering an oath, Liam dove for the ax scaring the donkey. The cart jerked forward. Something whizzed overhead. There was a loud thunk. Liam turned to see an arrow with green fletching imbedded inches from Philip’s leg. With a snarl and a sharp bark, the goblin dove out the other side and bounded toward the cave.
Mica and Willow dashed up.
“Another inch and I would have had him,” Willow said. “Nice job with this one. He’ll be out for hours.” She shoved Morris with her foot rolling the goblin over. “A sliver scabbard?” she said. She slit the rotting leather belt and pulled it off. “Now why would a goblin need a silver scabbard?” She stepped over the body and picked up the sword. She rotated the blade. Green slime trickled down the metal. “Poison,” she muttered, and sheathed the magic blade in the silver scabbard.
Mica ran his fingers over the donkey’s head checking the bridle. “Enough talk. There’ll be reinforcements soon.” He jumped up in the cart.
Liam darted to the back and raised the back panel. The edge of the door was visible. He ran his fingers over it to reassure himself it was real. The cart started to move. He dropped the panel back into place and with a grin hopped into the back.
The trip to the road was hot, the cart reeked of goblins, and Liam was exhausted. None of that mattered. The door was safe and they had survived.
Liam lay in the back of the cart and listened as Mica and Willow discussed how the goblin might have gotten the magic sword. Hot sun shone on his face and he closed his eyes. The gentle rocking of the cart proved to be too much for him, and he fell asleep.
The Doormaster's Apprentice Page 4