First Comes The One Who Wanders (68 page)

Did their leader want them dead or did he want prisoners? Leilas deflected another near miss and caught one of the darklings in the thigh. They appeared to be fighting cautiously and Leilas decided they were to be taken prisoner. But who had sent them? And why was he so intent on finding them? Unless it was Rengailai, why would anyone care about a lone crafter and elf traveling through Crogmanland and Sylphia?

Step by step, the darklings were backing them up toward another cliff wall. They fought as well as their full-blooded brother elves and Leilas could feel herself growing weary. Of all the people here, she was the one seriously out-manned. Stepping back again, she slipped on the loose gravel and went to her knee. Her opponent took the opportunity and placed his sword against her neck. So, she'd been right, they didn’t want to kill them. Erion looked in her direction and dropped his sword, raising his hands. The darklings surrounding him looked as if they would have liked to finish the fight, but they refrained.

The darkling holding Leilas pulled her to her feet. "My master wants to see you." Pulling her pack off her back, they rummaged through it and grunted in satisfaction when they found the orb and the shaft. Placing them back in the sack, they kept it in their possession. They didn’t force Leilas to attempt a downward climb on the cliffs. Instead, they headed for the Merchant’s Highroad. Leilas was sweating from the exertion of keeping up when they finally reached the pass that crossed the Sea Witch Mountains. She'd expected them to head back toward Glorian, but instead, they headed up the mountain pass, toward the city of Jovan’s End. It was said the land on the Western side of the Sea Witches was Jovan’s and very few had ventured beyond the foot of the mountain range. Other than being a prisoner and not having the pieces of the staff in her possession, Leilas was content to let the darklings lead her across the pass. They weren’t being cruel and hadn’t bound them or kept her from talking to Erion. The Temple of Sylph lay over these peaks and it was a relief not to have to stay one step ahead of these men all the time. She wasn’t certain Erion felt the same. A look of grim determination had settled on his face and remained there since the battle. It couldn’t be easy to acquiesce to his sworn enemy, when he could easily escape and disappear into the mountains. The darklings might even appreciate it if he did. She doubted they were happy having to deal with an elf, especially a light elf. They wouldn’t kill him unless he gave them just cause. Leilas knew that as long as she was alive, Erion wouldn’t give them a reason.

They allowed her a few moments rest before they continued up the mountain pass. The darklings moved quickly and she was hard pressed to keep pace. Even when the light faded into evening, they kept moving. Soon, Leilas was stumbling with fatigue. She wasn’t an elf or darkling and she wasn’t used to the thin air of the mountains. Still, she didn’t ask them to stop. She would have appreciated some of the jerky in her pack, but it was in the possession of the darkling leader.

Stumbling in the dark, she pitched forward and landed on her hands and knees on the dirt path. The leader of the darklings muttered an oath and brought the group to a halt. Erion was at her side as soon as she'd fallen, unstopping his water skin and giving her a drink. "You should have said you needed a rest," he chided her, giving her some of his food.

"Like our darkling leader up there would have cared," replied Leilas. She hadn’t tried to regain her feet. Instead, she sat in the middle of the road and chewed the jerked venison Erion had offered her.

The darklings stood several feet away and whispered among themselves, but unlike her previous captors, they respected her privacy and didn’t punish Erion for taking care of her needs. "He would have stopped," said Erion, looking in the direction of the half-elves. "He might not have liked it, but he would have stopped."

"I’ll remember that next time. How far have we come?" She peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint where they were.

"We're about halfway up the pass. It's fortunate they are headed in the direction we wished to travel."

"I was thinking much the same," replied Leilas. "My only concern is that they have the pieces of the staff. They're useless in their present state, but so are the last two pieces without the ones we've already retrieved."

"I'm working on that problem," replied Erion. "Let’s get over the pass first."

"My thoughts exactly," said Leilas. "Getting over the pass will be much easier now that we’re not being dogged."

"Just don’t underestimate them, or the person who sent them to find us, replied Erion. "Obviously, they've had some type of magical help or else I would have lost them."

Leilas smiled at his confidence, though she had no doubt had he been on his own, he'd have lost their pursuers. It seemed she was always putting her companions in danger. Should she have asked Erion to come with her? Had she just been satisfying her selfishness wanting his company? She shrugged off the question. It was too late now to reconsider.

"You’ve rested long enough," said the leader. "We need to reach Jovan’s End before the third day is gone."

Leilas sighed and rose tiredly. "I’ll do my best, but I’m not an elf. I do need food, water and rest."

"You're a crafter. You can travel almost as well as an elf," replied the leader. "We've traveled with your kind before."

Perhaps they knew something about crafters she didn’t know. Because she hadn’t felt rested and well fed in so long she couldn’t remember the last time. They were in the wilderness region of Sylphia. There hadn’t been any cities or towns to visit and enjoy a hot meal from the inn. Each day, she felt more tired and more hungry. She was traveling on sheer willpower. So, how was she supposed to keep up with elves who could travel for weeks without feeling fatigue or hunger? Gidron had never told her about any secret spell that gave her extra energy.

At the thought of her previous master, a strange feeling came over her. All at once, it made sense. The feelings in the forest, the reason the darklings hadn’t killed her. She knew who they were going to see. She also knew that they needed to escape before they rendezvoused with Gidron Frey.

She tried to get Erion’s attention without attracting the attention of the darklings. It took several tries as Erion was quite far ahead of her. Luckily, the darklings preferred to travel together, leaving their two prisoners to travel together. They doubted she would get far should she try to escape. "Erion," she hissed a little louder. This time she saw him tip his head slightly. He slowed imperceptibly until he was almost even with her.

"Leilas?" he answered her call.

"They are taking us to Gidron. We can’t meet him."

"I, for one, am looking forward to meeting him," replied Erion, fiercely. "He has a great deal to answer for. I haven’t forgotten the scene in the Forest of Furlin."

"Nor have I," said Leilas glancing ahead to the darklings, making sure they weren’t interested in their conversation. "But this isn't the time to confront him. I don’t have all I need to be able to defeat him." Erion turned his head to face her at this admission. "If I meet him now, I'll die and won't complete my task."

Erion sighed. "I thought you'd be able to face him. But I understand that it's more important to do what Sylph has instructed you to do. That leaves us with the problem of retrieving your pack from formidable foes who'll be expecting us to try and steal it and then evade them in these mountains when this pass is the only way across them."

It didn’t escape Leilas’ notice that he didn’t include killing their captors as an option. He was an elf and they did have a code by which they lived. So, they would have to evade them or overcome them and incapacitate them. The only question was how and when. She had no idea where Gidron Frey was waiting. Only that they were to meet him in less than two days. Could they afford to wait until they were near Jovan’s End or did they need to flee as soon as possible?

The questions quickly became moot. The darklings veered off the road and led them to a small clearing. Waiting there for them were six more darklings and two captives. Leilas studied them, without appearing to be interested in them. Erion was listening to the conversation between the two groups of half-elves. Their fellow prisoners were a young man dressed in messenger garb and an elderly looking dwarf. The dwarf was eying the axe that was hanging from one of the darklings' belts.

"Sit down there," one of the darklings pointed to a spot near the young messenger. "I'll bring you something to eat." Leilas obediently sat next to the young man. She could see that the other two prisoners were bound. It appeared the dwarf and messenger didn’t have anything that would keep them bound to the darklings.

"I’m Leilas," she said, sitting next to the young man. His eyes opened wide at her name. The dwarf just snorted. "We seem to be in the same predicament."

"I don’t see that you are in our situation," growled the dwarf. "Our hands are tied and they haven’t offered us anything to eat in days, just water to drink."

"Nonetheless, we're prisoners," said Leilas, ignoring the urge to unbind them. She didn’t need the darklings making it more difficult for her to escape.

"I've heard of you," said the messenger, "in my master’s house."

"Who's your master?" asked Leilas.

The dwarf frowned at his companion, but the young man ignored him. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Adrian Cheran. I was on a mission for him when I was captured by the dwarves. Now I'm obligated to them until we find what I helped them lose."

"The Duke is doing his best to fight the Dredracians," said Leilas, sadness creeping into her voice. "He's a good man."

"He thought highly of you, my lady," replied the messenger. "I'm Jakob and this is Thorston." He indicated the dwarf.

"You're a crafter, aren’t you?" asked Thorston. Leilas indicated she was. "Then why don’t you lose our ropes and cast a spell on these filthy creatures and help us get out of here?"

"It isn’t quite that simple, Thorston. There's more at stake here than you know. Also, my magic is of no use against darklings."

"Get me near that axe and you won’t need magic," said Thorston. "How did they get hold of the axe of Thurmmond?"

"It's my weapon," replied Leilas. "I received it from the council."

"You should take better care of such a treasure," complained Thorston. "But then, who am I to say?" His chin dropped into his beard.

"I'll help you escape," whispered Leilas. "But you must be patient. The timing must be perfect."

"We'll do as you say, my lady. After all, you're the Chosen One," said Jakob. Thorston’s head jerked up in surprise and his eyes studied her with more interest.

"That knowledge might be better kept among the four of us," said Leilas, looking around to see who was listening. Assured the comment hadn’t reached the darklings’ ears, she relaxed a little. She didn’t know if Gidron Frey had told them who she was, but the fewer people who knew the less trouble she'd encounter.

Jakob turned red. "Forgive me, my lady. I do seem to put my foot in it lately. That’s how I ended up here."

"That also is better not talked about here," said Thorston.

Leilas had to wonder what had brought these two into the wilderness of Sylphia that was better not talked about. However, she refrained from probing the young boy’s mind. If they wanted to tell her, they would. Right now, she had enough problems of her own.

Erion came to sit next to them. "They can’t quite decide what to do with us," he said, handing his water skin to Leilas. "The darklings who captured our friends want to get rid of all of us. The ones who captured us are telling them you must be taken to their master. They're still discussing it. My guess is anyway we look at it, three of us are in great peril at this point."

"I was hoping we could get over the pass before we made a run for it," replied Leilas. "And we're at a decided disadvantage with all our weapons in their hands. We didn’t do especially well when we had them."

"Why don’t you cast a spell," asked Jakob.

"Perhaps I could cause a diversion with magic that might divert their attention," said Leilas.

"Anything would help, my lady," said Erion. "Although I’m sure the three of us could comport ourselves well, it would be easier if they weren’t concentrating on us."

"There are four of us," said Jakob, reacting to the unintentional snub.

Erion looked at the young man sitting next to the elderly dwarf. "So there are," he said, nodding his head in Jakob’s direction. "I must confess, I didn’t realize Duke Cheran trained his messengers as warriors, too."

Jakob’s chin went up defiantly. "That doesn’t mean that I can’t hold my own in a fight. I've learned some watching the soldiers and Thorston has been teaching me as we travel."

Erion inclined his head in acquiescence. Leilas placed her hand on his arm to keep him from saying more. "We'll need everyone, if we want to have a chance of any plan succeeding. Let me think about it for a little while. It isn’t enough just to sneak away. I must retrieve my pack."

"Why is your pack so important," growled Thorston. "Retrieving your gear will almost certainly ensure a fight."

"I must have my sack," said Leilas, indicating there would be no discussion on that point. Thorston grumbled, but didn’t try to dissuade her.

"I could perhaps sneak around and steal it back, if I weren’t bound," volunteered Jakob. "I’m pretty good at sneaking around."