Chapter 6
January 30, 2009 at 12:58 PM (Fantasy Stories, Guinivere)
Of Elves and Wizards
I think we should leave
Guin woke with a start to the sound of distant and jerked upright. A dull thud came from behind her. Twisting around she stared in horror at the blade that was now embedded in the ground right where her throat would have been. A boot came into view. She followed it up until she was staring into the eyes of an Elven child-soldier. “Mal!” she called as a hand came from behind, clamping down on her mouth.
Mal was on his feet and running before the soldiers knew what was happening. Hands reached out to grab him but he was too fast. The first soldier had his sword out again and was advancing on Guin who was held tight by another soldier but Mal got to him first. He lashed out with his fist, catching the sword wielder in the jaw. Guin ducked as his fist came toward her and he caught the boy who was holding her full in the face.
As soon as she was free Guin lunged for her sword. She felt the hilt in her palm as a hand closed about her wrist. She reached into her pack with her other hand and grabbed one of her throwing knives just before she was dragged back away from their gear. She threw the knife sideways and the hand on her wrist loosened.
She pulled her sword out of its sheath and it immediately lit up. The woods around them seemed suddenly to come alive with soldiers. They all stood in slight confusion looking to the elf girl with the flaming sword. “Mal?” Guin called, “I think we should leave.”
Mal looked around in awe. “I think you’re right.”
As one they took off toward the packs. It was like the loosing of a bow-string. All the soldiers came to their senses and attacked. Guin’s bare feet dug into the earth, propelling her forward. A sword sprang out of the underbrush and caught Guin in the leg. She stumbled but kept moving forward. Grabbing her boots she jammed them on her feet and threw her pack on her shoulders. She ran off into the underbrush, dodging soldiers and ignoring the searing pain in her leg.
The wolves appeared in the woods ahead of them just as the mass of bodies surged toward them. They took off, running toward the wolves. They climbed on the wolves’ backs and the wolves blended into the underbrush, leaving little to no trail for their pursuers to follow. They traveled until the sound of their pursuers again faded into nothingness before they chanced a rest. They continued on by foot, allowing the wolves a chance to hunt and rest, dodging the sticks and fallen leaves that would give away their trail.
Again Mal took the lead, following some inner compass and never wavering from his path. Before long the loss of blood made Guin falter and stumble. Mal was at her side instantly, supporting her weight and keeping her from losing consciousness. “You’re hurt!” he muttered with worry thick on his voice.
“I wasn’t fast enough,” Guin replied grimly. “I’m fine. It was just a scratch.”
Mal frowned at her. “You’re a lousy liar,” he replied.
“I can go further. In fact, I refuse to stop. I don’t want them to find me like this.” Guin stated.
Mal nodded reluctantly and led her onward. She leaned heavily on him, grateful for the support. They traveled for many miles like this before Guin collapsed. “Ok. This looks like as good a spot as any to stop.” She grinned weakly.
“Now let’s have a look at your leg.” Mal ordered. “We can’t let you lose too much blood.”
Guin, too weak to refuse, nodded grimly. Mal looked at her in worry then pulled off her boot. Underneath, her pant leg was drenched with blood. “Orana’s Leaves!” Mal swore, “Why didn’t you stop me sooner?”
He peeled back the pant leg to inspect the wound. It ran from ankle to knee and was bleeding profusely. Mal glanced up at Guin. Her face was white with pain and her mouth was set in a grim line. Seeing Mal’s glance she shook her head. “I’m fine,” she stated, her voice trembling slightly.
Mal used the rest of their water to clean the wound and bound it tightly with strips from one of his shirts. “We’re only an hour away from our destination,” he muttered, then he turned to Guin, “We can rest here if you need to.”
“Me?” Guin pulled herself up against the trunk of a tree. “What about you?”
“I can go further if you want to.” He replied.
“Well, we can’t stay here, it’s too open.” Guin suppressed a shudder, “What if they catch up to us?”
Mal went out into the woods and shortly reappeared holding a long thick stick staff in his hand. Handing it to her he helped her to her feet. Slowly they made their way onward in the dimming light. The underbrush was thick and seemed to be trying to trip them. Finally, a voice called out in the night. “Mal! Oi! Mal!”
Mal looked up with a grateful smile. “Din!”
Mal ran off into the woods, leaving Brighteyes to lead Guin. At first glance Guin couldn’t see anything, then it seemed as if the ground before Mal was moving. As she caught up to him she realized that it wasn’t the ground but a little man. Only about two and a half feet tall Din dressed all in brown. His brown hair and tanned skin allowed him to blend in with the forest around him. “Lady Guinivere,” Mal said with a smile, “Meet Din.”
Din smiled and bowed a low and comical bow. “Self to meet Guin-veer is very happy.”
Guin felt some of her strength failing her and she leaned more onto her staff. “Is Guin-veer alright?” Din asked anxiously.
Guin smiled reassuringly. “I have walked long with no rest. I just need to sit down.”
Din frowned. “Self is stupid!” he cried. “Mal and Guin-veer are tired! Self take them should to self’s house.”
Din led them on into the woods, chattering away to himself as Mal dropped back beside Guin. :Are you alright?: He asked her quietly.
:I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.: Guin replied, catching herself as she tripped on a root. :My strength is fading.:
Mal frowned in worry, looking up at Din. :Just last until you get to bed.:
Guin sucked in a steadying breath, fighting the urge to faint. The pain in her leg had grown so that it was almost unbearable. She was leaning more on the staff than Mal would have liked but she was still able to put some weight on it. They followed Din to a cabin nearby. Guin was surprised to see that it was made to house up to thirty average sized elves. “An Elven Outpost was this.” Din said with a grin. “Yes, yes. Before their borders did the folk of the wood expanded. Yes, yes. Nearest town now is just sunset from here five days.”
Guin started in surprise. “We’re that close to an Elven town?”
Din looked at her quizzically. “Yes, yes. But fair is it no more. Evil there lives now, yes, yes. Dark Evil. Killed the fair ones they did.”
“They’ve reached Mythias!” Mal gasped.
“Yes, yes.” Came a voice from behind Guin.
Guin jumped and whirled around, her hand going to her sword. There in front of her stood a little woman, no taller than Din, with a smile so big it was overwhelming. “Hi Min.” Mal greeted.
“Very pleased self is to see Mal and… friend. Self has dinner prepared for self and life-mate. Shall make more yes, yes.” Min grinned, leading Guin into the outpost.
The inside of the outpost was old, ragged and dusty. There was no inch of the place that was not dirty and in disrepair. Shelves needed fixing, dishes were old and cracked, doors squealed on their hinges, and the stairs were worn and weak. Guin sat down in a big dusty chair by the fireplace and rested her leg on the footrest.
Mal appeared at her side, a pair of Elven boots clasped in his arms. “I found these upstairs.” He grinned. “There is an old store room up there. You could wash up and change.”
Guin smiled gratefully and did as he suggested. After washing up and changing the bandage on her leg she found an old elven jerkin and a pair of pants that fit her. She brushed her hair and pulled it back into a braid. Mal and Din were setting the table and Min was still cooking when she returned downstairs. Just as Guin entered the room Min poked her head out of the kitchen. “Supper ready is. Friends sit. Life-mate come and help self.”
Guin watched Din disappear into the kitchen. “Do they always talk like that?”
Mal was frowning at the door to the kitchen. He shook himself slightly. “That is the way of their kind. Come to think of it, I don’t even know what their kind is, nor if there even is more of them. Very timid creatures, they hardly ever show themselves.”
“You seem worried.” Guin told him, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He muttered, turning his gaze away from the kitchen. “I’m just being foolish.”
Guin would have pushed him further but just then Din and Min came back into the room carrying steaming cauldrons of soup. When supper was served Guin found she wasn’t as hungry as she thought. The soup in a bowl in front of her was filled with strange herbs and contained long string-like things that she was pretty sure weren’t spaghetti noodles. She was sure that one of them had moved. A strange aroma filled her nose. She glanced over at Mal and saw him lift his spoon to his lips. She also noted that the spoon returned to the bowl with the same amount of soup as it had left with.
After dinner Mal showed Guin to a spare room. As she set down her cooma he handed her a small package about the size and shape of a granola bar. She unwrapped it to find a bar of what looked like dried fruit and smashed berries. “A ration bar.” Mal said with a grin. “Not everyone can stomach Min’s cooking.” Guin accepted the bar gratefully and sank exhausted onto the bed. “Keep a knife under your pillow.” Mal warned. “They tend to get curious and greedy.”
Guin smiled and did as he bid. Then she fell into a deep slumber. Her dreams were once again filled with voices. Some voices frantically calling her name as terror or worse engulfed them; others as if searching for her; and yet one voice rang through the rest, familiar and beckoning. Guin followed the voice through endless waves of darkness until hushed tones caught her ears. These new voices seemed out of place and closer than the rest. A sudden searing pain flared about her neck and she awoke with a cry of pain. Her cry went unheard as a shrilling shriek resounded by her ear.
Mal burst into the room and yanked the shrieking, wriggling shape off of Guin. It loosened its hold on her necklace and the pain about her neck eased. A high shrill voice screamed. “Pretty shiny. Self wants it! It hurt self, it burned self!”
“Shut up.” Mal growled. “I knew you would try something like this. Where is Din?”
“Self is here.” Came Din’s voice softly from inside Guin’s cooma.
“Get out of there you little-“
“Milady!” Mal warned.
Too late. Guin leaped out of bed and lunged at Din. A shooting pain up her leg reminded her of her injury. With a soft cry of pain Guin fell to her knees. Din curled himself up into a little ball reminiscent of a hedgehog and would have appeared comical at any other time. Mal leaned over and picked Din up out of the sack. Din shrugged uncomfortably. “What were you thinking? Going through Guin’s bag. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked.
“Self sorry is, friend. Self mean not to!” Din stuttered, shivering with fear.
“Didn’t mean to steal?” Guin asked, struggling into a standing position.
“Yes, that too.”
“’Too?’ What do you mean ‘too?’” Mal asked.
Just then the door burst open, sending a shaft of bright light into the room. There in the doorway, surrounded by light was a black-cloaked figure. Din looked at Min. Min looked at Din. Then they both started to yell.
The cloaked figure glanced around the room, its gaze shifting over Mal and the little people and coming to a halt on Guin. It raised its hand, a human looking hand, and pointed at Guin, a soft mutter escaping from its lips. “Down!” Mal yelled as he tackled her.
They fell to the floor just as a blast of ice-cold energy zoomed over her head. “We have to get out. Now!” Mal yelled and lunged at the cloaked figure.
The figure leaped out of the way as Mal’s knife flashed in the air. A clang of steel on steel rang as Mal’s blow was blocked by the figure’s own knife. The figure uttered a curse, its voice coming in a low croak that was definitely male. Mal ducked as fire roared over his head, motioning for Guin to move. Guin hesitated, unwilling to leave a friend in a crisis. Mal unsheathed another knife, keeping his opponent too occupied to mutter any more spells. Guin used the time to slip through the door and was partway down the winding stair before Mal caught up to her. “Keep going.” He said as they burst out the door and into the woods. “He won’t be far behind.”
Sure enough the figure burst from the bedroom window and drifted lightly to the ground. He raised his hand, letting loose a string of fireballs. The woods around Guin burst into flame. She ducked and dodged, covering her face as she pushed through the burning underbrush in her wild run. Trees exploded beside or behind her, but still she ran on, with the pain in her leg temporarily forgotten in her fear of her opponent.
The cloaked figure stopped shooting at her. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a handful of fine red dust. “Garik ast mein.” He snapped and threw the dust into the wind. Guin ran on. Not even the trees and bushes could slow her down. She ran and ran deep into the forest. Looking behind her she saw Mal was slowing down. “He vanished!” Mal muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion and disbelief. “Just disappeared! Why though?”
Guin felt suddenly exhausted. It was as if her adrenaline had suddenly run out. Her head started to spin and her legs started to shake, then they gave out and she was lost in darkness.
~Ψ~ ~Ψ~ ~Ψ~ ~Ψ~
Mal saw Guin crumple to the ground. He rushed to her side and rolled her gently onto her back. Anxiously he felt for a pulse and found one. Mal glanced behind him but could see nothing. The cloaked man had simply vanished. His ears and inner senses could pick up no trace of him. “Since when did dark-elves employ wizards?” he shook his head and looked back to Guin. “I need to get her somewhere safe.”
Whistling softly Mal called Wolf to his side. Mal picked Guin up and set her on Wolf’s back. He secured her with a length of rope from his pack. “Don’t knock her too much.” He told Wolf sternly.
He then mounted Brighteyes and they took off. Mal was now completely lost. He relied on the wolves to guide the way. :Just find people.: Mal told them. :Find someone to take care of her.:
Wolf sniffed the ground and leapt at a trail. :The sent is faint. Very old,: He said. :But it is human. We may be able to catch them.:
They followed the trail for hours but it never got any fresher. No matter how fast they went the person always seemed to stay ahead of them. Mal looked around in frustration. Finally, he called a halt to the chase. He slumped to the ground with a frustrated sigh. “It’s no use Wolf. No matter what speed we take the trail just doesn’t seem to get any fresher.”
Wolf made no reply. Mal glanced over to him. Wolf was crouched low to the ground, his ears drooping. A soft whine escaped him as Guin’s hand fell limply to the ground. Mal rushed over and lifted Guin quietly off of Wolf’s back. He lay her gently down and checked her over for injuries. After changing the dressing on her leg he made sure she was comfortable and then started to make supper. “Maybe we should risk detection by the dark-elves in a town in order to get her a healer.” He muttered. “Yet, something tells me that it’s not a good idea.”
:Mal, you should see this.: Brighteyes called from Guin’s side.
Mal ran over to where the wolves stood over Guin. At the young elf’s neck the stone of Alëndril was pulsing with a dim blue light. Grabbing her wrist Mal found her pulse. It matched the pulsing of the stone. “I don’t get it.” He whispered. “There are no visual injuries on her with the exception of her leg. Why is this happening?”
As he sat hunched over Guin he heard footsteps in the brush behind him. He drew his sword from its sheath silently and waited. The footsteps drew closer and still Mal waited, tense and listening. When the footsteps sounded directly behind him he struck out with his sword. There was a soft thump as sword hit wood. And Mal found his blow blocked by a long wooden staff. “I wish not to hurt you. I only wish to know the reason you are following me.” Said a soft voice from the shadows.
“If you mean us no harm then who are you?” Mal asked just as quietly.
“I am Samson of Mystra Abbey. But with all due respect good sir. You are the one following me. I would know my tracker.” An old man in a brown habit and leather sandals stepped out of the shadows and sat on the ground.
“I am Malroy of the Riths. I was tracking you in hopes that you would be friendly and able to help.” Mal glanced at Guin.
“Bless my soul!” Samson gasped, “It is the young one! What happened? I would know.”
Mal sighed. “I know not. We were running from one wizard, hired by the Dark Elves no doubt. He just disappeared and shortly after she collapsed. Only recently has her condition appeared thus.”
Samson frowned. “This is serious. Well beyond my knowledge. We should get her to the abbey post haste. Father Eli will know what to do. Come, we are not far.”
Mal put out the fire and buried the still un-cooked food. Then he lifted Guin lightly off the ground and followed. The old man had grabbed their packs and started off already. Mal glanced at his tracks and frowned. Even his freshest tracks appeared hours old. Samson laughed haughtily and said, “It is a spell meant to throw off pursuit.”
Mal grinned despite himself. “It damn near worked!” He said, dropping all propriety.
Samson grinned back. “I’m very experienced with keeping ahead of my pursuers. I am what my brothers call a Scavenger. I get medicines and supplies from nearby villages. I am the only one who will do so.”
“Why’s that?” Mal asked as he shifted Guin to get a stronger hold on her.
“We frown on contact with others. Contact leads to change and vicious or indifferent behavior and in our way of life such things aren’t needed.”
Mal frowned again and Guin groaned in her sleep. “You mean to tell me there is no outside contact of any kind?”
“None,” Samson said sadly. “And the few of us who have to leave do so reluctantly and spend many hours in seclusion late at night.”
“If there is no outside contact then will there be a problem with us taking Guin to see this Father Eli?” Mal asked.
In his concern he didn’t even realize he had just referred to her informally. He had been trying to keep their relationship one of strict formality, believing it would help to keep him distant from her. It hadn’t been working anyway so he didn’t know why he still bothered.
Samson pushed the brush aside and stepped into a clearing. “Father Eli will help.” He assured the Rith calmly. “It’s getting into the abbey that might present a problem. After we are inside we shall have no trouble.”
There in front of them rose the great abbey that they had been seeking. The moss covered walls stretched twenty feet high in the air and the crumbling buildings stood tall and proud inside. It was like stepping into a bard’s tale of ancient and wondrous times. The front gate was shut tight and the only life to be seen was the monk that guarded it. Samson stepped up to the grand oaken doors that made up the gate. “I come leading weary travelers in need of medical help.” He called.
The gate keeper looked down at them. “Take them to a nearby village.” He replied, “We have no use for outsiders. You know this well Samson. Why do you waste my time?”
“They can not go to the villages for they are hunted.” Samson called back. “They need the help of Father Eli. Let him then judge if they should be allowed inside.”
The gate keeper looked from Mal to Samson and back again before his gaze settled on Guin. The stone at her neck still pulsed strongly with her life force. “Father Eli is busy.” His gaze returned to Samson. “Take them to the villages.”
Guin gave a feeble cough and the light at her throat flickered and died. “Guin?” Mal whispered in concern, “Milady, wake up.”
She groaned slightly and the light flared back to life, continuing its endless pulsing. Mal glanced at Samson. “We must hurry, she is weakening.”
“I must request that you disturb the Revered Father in whatever practice he is partaking in at this point.” Samson called to the guard. “This is of the utmost importance.”
The guard grumbled and left. Twenty agonizing minutes later the gate was yanked open to reveal and aged man leaning on a staff. “Hurry now.” He said to Samson as they entered the abbey. “Get her to my chambers. She has been left in this condition for far too long.”
