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“What happened to your ear?” Ellen asked as she gave Tor the once over, checking if he needed any healing.
“Ask Patrick. I am sure he will be able to stop laughing long enough to tell you.”
Most of the people they had rescued were surprisingly uninjured. They were suffering from lack of proper food, but that was about all. Their treatment by their captors could have been a lot worse. The mental torture they had suffered was another matter. Some of the ‘soldiers’ had taken great pleasure in announcing exactly what they had done, and to whom, each morning when they returned from the villages. It was mainly due to this that, when freed, the villagers and the Lord’s real soldiers attacked with such ferocity.
Not many of the captors survived the fight. The prisoners had made sure of that. The few that had were rounded up and the head of the Lord’s guard promised they would receive a fair trial.
Many horses were milling about, stolen from Lord Dorrik by the fake soldiers. Riding two or three to an animal, the men from the villages commandeered them and returned to their homes as fast as they could.
The real soldiers, who had been forced to become miners, helped the members of Lord Dorrik’s family into the wagon and escorted them to the village where their patriarch was waiting for them. Tor and all of his team followed.
Reunions were happening in the streets by the time they arrived. Thomas Dorrik was in tears when he saw that all of his family, other than his oldest son, were alive and well and could not stop thanking Tor and his people.
Everyone was exhausted, so it was agreed that the Lord and his family would go immediately to their home and one of his guards would return the wagon before sunrise. Tor and his friends went to their assigned rooms in the inn and fell asleep, not caring that many of them were sleeping on pallets on the floor.
The next morning Patrick, Tor and Ellen headed straight to the stables. They intended to load the captured ‘soldiers’ into the wagon, which had already been returned, and transport them to Lord Dorrik’s residence, where they would be put on trial along with their fellow conspirators.
Patrick unlocked then swung open the door and the sound of groaning immediately reached his ears. As he stepped inside the smell of blood assailed him and he called out to Ellen that she should remain outside. Ignoring him, she walked in. The men were still all securely bound, but some were unconscious while others were clearly in a lot of pain.
All had been castrated.
She looked behind her at Quill, whose husband was one of those who had managed to return relatively unharmed. His arm was bandaged where he had suffered a stab wound during the fight, but the other was around Quill’s waist. He stepped protectively in front of her. “She knows nothing,” he said. “And you cannot prove otherwise.”
Ellen glanced into the stables once more and her eyes fell on a bloody pair of shears. “I hope they were blunt,” was all she said before she set to work on those who needed her attention. She did nothing to relieve the pain. Most of the men had already stopped bleeding, their blood soaked trousers sticking to their scabbed over wounds in a way she knew would open them up once more as soon as the clothes were removed. Part of her wished she could be there to see it.
The men were bundled into the back of the wagon, nobody caring if they were comfortable or not. River, Hurst and Grimmel rode in the front with Seth and the young water sprite kept complaining about the smell behind her.
The villagers kept thanking them all for their help and it took a lot longer than expected before they were finally allowed to depart.
They headed straight to Lord Dorrik’s estate and handed over their prisoners, who were locked in the cellar. Thomas was expecting his guests and had his best rooms made ready. Baths were prepared and that evening they had a large feast to celebrate.
All of Lord Dorrik’s family were there to give their thanks for their rescue, even the children. Everyone was relaxed and happy, putting Nosmas’s death to the back of their minds for a while. If they had not been on the quest, they would not have been in their current location and Lord Dorrik’s family and the men from the villages would still have been prisoners. This was the first time since starting the quest that they could celebrate something good coming from it.
Tor asked about plans for the mine and Thomas announced that he would like to keep it open, provided he could find anyone still prepared to work there. Its contents were worth a lot of money and he intended to share the profits with the workers. They had been through a harrowing ordeal and it was the least he could do.
Wine flowed and toward the end of the evening Thomas decided to give a speech.
“I would like to thank my good friends Tor and Patrick, and all of their associates of course, without whom we would not be here celebrating right now. I honestly believe that they saved many lives by their acts yesterday and the debt I now owe them can never be repaid.”
He glanced at Tor then grinned. “I would just like to add that finally Patrick has managed to fulfil his lifelong ambition of shooting Tor. I am surprised it took this long.”
There were laughs all around and the merriment continued long after the children had been sent to bed.
Nobody rose early the next morning and after a late breakfast Tor announced that they needed to leave.
“Where are you headed?” Thomas asked.
“Raven. One of our team is not with us and we have to leave a message for him at an inn there.”
“Well thank you once again for everything you have done. If there is anything I can do to help you out on this quest, just let me know.”
“Actually, now you mention it, do you happen to know a friendly wood sprite who would be happy to join us or have you ever heard of the ezra?”
Thomas expressed his regret at having to say no to both questions, but Tor was not disappointed. He had not really been expecting to hear anything else.
The journey to Raven was quiet and uneventful. After the events of the past few days, quiet and uneventful was good. It was late by the time they arrived, so they went straight to the inn called the Rose to find out how many rooms were available.
If they were prepared to sleep four to a room, they could be accommodated. Seth and Ban volunteered to sleep in the hay loft above the stable, allowing Torrick and Liselle some privacy, and the innkeeper had no issues with this.
While the ladies went to bathe and Seth and Ban took care of the horses, the rest of the men ordered a few jugs of ale and retired to an empty table. Food would not be ready for another hour or so, so they decided to relax for a while.
It was Patrick who first spotted the wood sprite, sitting on his own in the corner. He seemed deep in thought as he gazed at his ale without drinking it.
“You are not going to believe this,” he said to Tor, “but take a look over your left shoulder.”
Tor did as instructed and stared in surprise. “My luck could not be that good.”
“There is only one way to find out. Go and speak to him.”
Tor decided to follow his advice and took his tankard of ale with him when he crossed the room.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Feel free.” It was not said in an overly friendly manner, but it could have been a lot worse.
Tor took one of the empty seats and carried on speaking. “It is not often we see one of your people out of their homeland.”
The wood sprite looked at him, a bored expression on his face. “We both know you did not come here for idle chit-chat. What is it you actually want?”
Tor studied the creature before answering. He was small and thin, like most of his kind, and his hair looked like it was full of twigs. His skin was an earthy shade of brown and his dark brown eyes were full of curiosity.
“Would you believe that I am looking for a wood sprite?”
Instantly his demeanour changed. He tensed up and his eyes filled with hostility. “Why?”
Tor held up his hands, palms forward, in a placating motion. “Please, hear me out. I meant no offence. My name is Prince Tor, from Remeny. You may have heard my name before.”
“Go on,” the wood sprite instructed.
“You may also have heard that I am on a quest. The latest clue stated that I need to find a wood sprite to join me and I am on my way to the nearest tribe of your people to see if I can persuade one to do so.”
“And by pure coincidence, you happened to see me sitting over here.”
“As unlikely as it sounds, yes.”
The wood sprite looked at him for a moment, then held out his hand. “My name is Oak. Tell me more.”
Tor shook the proffered hand, then pointed to the table he had just left. “Why not come and meet some more of my team and we will tell you everything we have been through so far and why we believe we need you.”
Seth and Ban joined them as introductions were being made and soon the conversation turned to describing their adventures so far. They were still only part way through when the ladies arrived.
Oak’s eyes went wide when they fell upon River. “You managed to persuade a water sprite to join you? Maybe you are worth listening to after all.”
He joined them for their evening meal, though he stuck to eating nuts and salad along with River instead of trying the slow cooked beef. He found it hard to believe everything he was being told, but they were such an assortment of people and they all spoke about their travels so enthusiastically that he could not bring himself to call them liars.
When they explained about Hurst being the ‘blind man who could read’, he refused to shake hands with him.
“Nothing personal, but we all have our secrets.” Hurst did not take offence and nobody minded that Oak wished to keep some things private.
One by one the reason for each person being with them was explained until eventually they got to the wording of the latest clue.
“So now you see why I was so interested in making your acquaintance,” Tor said. “We believe you fill the criteria for a ‘moving tree’.”
“I think you are right and you are indeed a lucky man,” Oak informed him. “It just so happens that last night I concluded the business which was the reason for me being away from my people. I was just debating what to do next when you came along.”
“Does that mean you are prepared to join us?” Grimmel asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Before you make your decision, though,” Tor warned, “we should point out that we cannot be certain what part of the clue actually means. We do not know if ‘kill one if you think you can’ refers to an ezra or a moving tree.”
Oak smiled. “I appreciate your honesty, but I had already worked that out for myself.”
“Yet you are still prepared to think about coming with us?”
“Let me put it this way; right now it might be best for me to be travelling with others rather than on my own. I just need to decide if you are the people I want to be with.”
“How long do you need to think about it?”
Oak drained his tankard and placed it on the table. “I will let you know in the morning.”
“He seems a man with a lot to hide,” Torrick commented once Oak had left.
“A lot of us do,” Patrick pointed out. “It does not mean that Oak should not be trusted.”
“Why not wait for his decision before we pass judgement on him,” Torrick suggested. “If he does agree to come with us, it will save us a lot of time and effort.”
The next morning Oak was in the dining room waiting for them when they went down for breakfast.
“Today really is your lucky day,” he said before Tor could speak.
“You have decided to join us I take it.”
“Better than that. Not only will I agree to go with you as your ‘moving tree’, but I also know where to find the ezra.”
This comment stunned Tor and for a moment he was lost for words.
“Are you serious?” Ban asked.
“Sprites do not lie,” River said before Oak had a chance to reply.
“Where?” Ria asked. She was idly playing with one of her knives as she spoke. Whether this was meant to be a threatening gesture or whether she did not realise she was doing it, Tor was not sure.
“North Remeny, close to Emvale. There is a small wood there that houses an elite force of my people. They guard and protect the ezra.”
“So that is why we need a wood sprite,” Patrick said, with sudden understanding. “We will not be allowed entrance without one.”
Oak nodded his head. “So do you want to start heading there this morning?”
“I do not see why not,” Tor told him. “But first, you need to give me the exact location so that I can leave a message for a friend who I hope will manage to catch up with us.”
The innkeeper was more than happy to look after the message and it was still early morning when they set off. As they travelled they asked Oak more about himself and, while he seemed happy to talk with them about his home and his family, as soon as Seth asked about his reason for leaving them he clammed up and refused to talk any more. This did not bother anyone and they asked no more questions along those lines, respecting his privacy.
They set a fair pace, but not fast. Having the wagon slowed them down and they stopped every few days to resupply their provisions. They could have moved quicker, but having Oak with them and knowing where they needed to go made them feel like they were making good progress in the quest and the need to hurry did not fill them. They also wanted to give Bellak every opportunity to catch up with them.
This he finally managed to do when they were about half way to their destination. It was the middle of the night and Ban was standing guard with Modo when a large dog ran into their campsite.
Modo cried out in alarm, but instead of attacking anyone, it went straight to the fire and lay down beside it.
“Do not worry about Samson, he is with me,” a familiar voice called out. Bellak rode into the clearing that had been chosen as the place to camp, looking like he had been riding non-stop for weeks.
“Any chance a of drink?” he asked as he slid off his horse’s back.
Ban handed over a water container and Bellak glared at him. “I meant a proper drink,” he grumbled. He accepted a wineskin, took a few gulps, then handed it back. “I need sleep. I will tell you everything in the morning.”
With that he found an almost comfortable spot by the fire, laid down and closed his eyes.
The next morning he was woken by rough hands shaking him. “Go away,” he said and pulled his cloak tighter about him.
“Get up,” Tor ordered. “Breakfast is ready.”
Those three magic words roused the wizard and he was soon sitting up, eating a bowl of porridge and telling everyone what had happened to him while he had been away.
After they had left him alone, he buried his son. He found a spot he could easily remember so that he could return there one day, hopefully with his wife. He then wandered aimlessly for a few days, not knowing where he was going, nor caring. He ended up completely lost in a large forest and would have died if it had not been for Samson.
“Samson, as I have named him, is a wolf not a dog, though the way he acts it is sometimes hard to tell the difference. If not for him I would have died of thirst or starvation. He led me to water, then out of the forest. He has travelled with me ever since.”
“Do you know why he helped you?” Ellen asked.
Bellak shook his head. “No idea, but I am glad he did. I then made it to the Rose and I read your note. As soon as I knew your destination I rode as fast as I could, almost without rest, to reach you. Now, where is this wood sprite who allegedly knows where to find the ezra?”
“Oak is currently out looking for nuts and other edible things. He will be back shortly.”
“Well I hope he hurries up,” Bellak said in a gruff manner. “We should get moving as soon as possible.”
“What is the rush?” Liselle asked. “We have not finished eating yet.”
“Then eat faster. My son died for this quest and now all that matters is winning it.” Those listening in on the conversation were shocked. They had never heard Bellak be so rude before.
“Do you not want to hear about what we have been doing since we left you?” Seth suggested, but Bellak glowered at him.
“Only if you can talk while driving.”
“I know you are eager to be moving,” Tor said in as placating a voice as he could manage, “but you will have to be patient. The breakfast things need to be washed up, everything packed back into the wagon and some of us would like to wash ourselves before we head out.”
Ria sniffed at Bellak theatrically. “You may want to join them.”
Eventually everyone was ready to leave. Samson jumped into the wagon beside Seth and was not very politely told to get out. He hung his tail down low between his legs and gave such a sorrowful look that River caved in and invited him back up. He curled up at her feet and went to sleep. Seth gave her a disgusted look, then told the donkey to start moving forward.
Not until they took their first break did Bellak introduce himself to Oak. Even then he was not polite. He did not want to know anything about him other than the fact he knew where the ezra could be found.
That evening, while sitting around a blazing fire, everyone told Bellak about their adventures rescuing Lord Dorrik and his people, but the old man did not seem interested. He appeared to be barely listening most of the time. As soon as the tale was over he announced he was tired and promptly curled up in a ball and went to sleep.
Later on Tor and Ellen were on guard together. “Does Bellak seem different to you?” she asked.
Tor nodded his head. “He no longer seems interested in anything other than the quest. It is understandable. He has lost both his son and his wife. Maybe he just wants it over and done with so he can concentrate on finding Vicky and winning her back.”
“If that was true, why did he re-join us? Why not leave us altogether and go searching for her?”
It was a good question and Tor thought he knew the answer. “Vicky went off with Vitkin. My brother will be heading to the same place we are, if he has not already beaten us to it. Sticking with us is probably the quickest way of finding him and therefore of finding Vicky.”
“Well whatever his reasons, if he does not change his attitude, he is going to make the journey very unpleasant.”
While people’s feelings toward Bellak began to change from sympathy and understanding to annoyance and anger at his new attitude toward everything, Samson was doing a great job of winning everyone over. He soon managed to get all the females to sneak him bits of food and eventually Seth started to put down a bowl for him every evening.
Time passed and they gradually got closer and closer to their destination. One evening Bellak acted very strangely. He kept glancing up into the sky and as soon as he had finished eating he said he was going for a walk, calling to Samson to go with him.
“If he does not return by morning, can we go without him?” Patrick asked.
“No of course not,” Ria said, springing to his defence. “I have grown fond of Samson.”
There was still no sign of either of them when Seth and Ellen took over guard duty from Tor and Modo. Light could be seen in the distance, but sunrise was still an hour or so away.
They sat quietly talking, their backs to the campsite and the fire, looking for any movement ahead of them. They did not hear the creature approaching as it stealthily walked on its six legs toward them. It was not very large, about the size of an iguana, and its skin colouring blended in perfectly with its surroundings.
Sensing something nearby, it raised its tail, its stinger pointing forward. When Ellen moved her leg it froze and probed the air with its tongue, trying to gauge if the thing in front of it was prey or not. It liked the taste of the air around it and slowly moved closer.
Just in time Seth caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and grabbed hold of Ellen, rolling her across him and away from the creature. It sprang forward, planting its stinger into his unprotected back, making him scream out in pain.
“Seth,” Ellen cried out and almost instantly Patrick was by her side, sword in hand. Spotting the creature, he stabbed at it, pinning it to the ground where it squirmed about until death finally took it.
Tor ran over. “What is it?”
“A krait,” Ellen told him. “Get me light, now.”
Seth lay on his side, panting and trembling as pain coursed through him. Tor brought over a burning torch and held it up high, lighting the area. The sting from the creature was still in Seth’s back and Ellen quickly pulled it out.
“Get me my bag,” she ordered and Patrick immediately obeyed. By now others were awake and volunteering to help. Soon she had a mixture boiling over the fire while Tor and Torrick tried to make Seth drink some water. “Where is Bellak when you need him?” she hissed through gritted teeth as she stirred the pot.
Once it was the colour she desired she added more water to cool it then handed it to Tor. “This is a pain killer. Make him drink it all.”
Tears were flowing down her face as she watched Torrick hold the still trembling Seth in position so Tor could pour the liquid down his throat. He stopped when Seth started to choke, but most of it had been drunk.
“Put him in the wagon,” Tor instructed, “and cover him over with some blankets.” Then he turned his attention to Ellen. “Talk to me. What do I need to know?”
“Seth saved my life. He saw the krait and pulled me out of its way. He protected me instead of himself and got stung as a result. It is all my fault.”
Tor took her hands. “It is not your fault. Try to calm down. You removed the sting from him very quickly.”
“But not quickly enough,” she sobbed. “It has injected its venom into him.” She seemed scared when she looked up into his eyes. “I do not know how to cure him.”
“Then we need to get him to the nearest town and hope that they have a healer who does know.”
In a remarkably short space of time everyone packed up and mounted their horses. Bellak and Samson arrived just as they were about to depart and were told the news. The wizard could offer no help. He knew of no spell that would work and as far as potions went, he admitted that Ellen’s knowledge far outweighed his.
“If we continue on this road and keep heading toward our target destination,” Tor announced, “we will reach a town in a little over four days. If we detour east, it will take us just under two.”
“We cannot afford a detour if you want to get to the ezra before your brothers,” Bellak told him.
“How long does Seth have?” Patrick started to ask, but Tor interrupted him.
“It does not matter. We are going to the nearest town, regardless of what direction it is in.”
Bellak started to protest and Tor rounded on him. “I have lost two people to this quest already. I will not lose another one.”
Bellak glared at him, but remained silent. Tor ignored him and turned to Ellen. “Can you keep Seth alive for two days?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”