Elf Lords: 02 - Last of the Elf Lords (10 page)
Read Elf Lords: 02 - Last of the Elf Lords Online
Authors: Richard Saunders
“That is good to know.” Doogal said. The thief felt naked without his sword.
Seebaul giggled like a child, “This is just priceless, Seth; your sister has been rescued. You have no idea how much that upset the Warlord’s plans. Now we must get moving if we are going to reach safety before sunrise.”
Weslocke plopped down onto the wooden chair, grateful that they were no longer onboard the ship that had brought them to the Eastland. “My stomach is still spinning.” He complained.
“You cannot still be sick,” Natis proclaimed, “I have never seen so much come out of someone so small. I am surprised that you did not spill your heart and lungs over the side of the ship.”
The mage ordered a mug of ale from the barmaid.
“Nothing for me,” Weslocke informed the girl, “I couldn’t keep it down.”
“You need to drink something.” Natis cautioned. “Besides, the trip wasn’t that bad.”
Weslocke glared at the mage. “Easy for you to say; you can probably use magic to prevent seasickness. That storm last night came right out of the abyss. I thought for sure that we were going to capsize or get washed overboard.”
“Only one man was washed overboard, Weslocke, and they were able to rescue him.”
“He was a human.” Weslocke reminded Natis, “Humans do not sink like rocks; dwarves do. You have never seen a dwarf swim have you?”
“I cannot say that I have.” Natis concurred.
Weslocke rubbed his stomach. “How long do we have to wait here? I would like to find someplace to rest.”
“Eric said to come to this inn as soon as we disembarked, and wait for the contact he has arranged. If no one meets us by noon, then I am to start asking for a man named Creel.”
“You called?” Someone said from behind them.
Natis turned around to find a wiry man in loose fitting clothing standing there. His hair was disheveled and he had a jagged scar on his left cheek. “I am Creel, and you must be the mage seeking a guide to the old Wizard’s Keep in Rooradan.”
“That I am.” Natis replied. He offered Creel a seat.
The newcomer sat down and waited for the barmaid to bring him a drink—at Natis’ expense—before continuing in a low voice. “Your friends arrived yesterday afternoon. Their ship was slowed down by storms.”
“We got the tail end of them.” Weslocke said.
Creel continued, “They wasted no time in purchasing horses and heading for Cathaar. I wish that they would have waited the night. Then I could have told them the same news I have for you.”
“What is that?” Natis asked.
“I just received word from a very reliable
Network
source that the princess has escaped.”
“Escaped?” Weslocke spoke a little too loudly.
“Rescued would be more accurate; but yes, she has been freed, although no one knows where she is now. What we do know is that her captors are actively searching for her. So she is not safe just yet. We have also learned that she was being held by one of the Lardashen Warlords.”
“She was taken by one of the rebel groups?” Natis queried. “Have you sent word to Eric?”
“Of course,” Creel answered, “but I cannot be certain when he will receive it.”
Weslocke breathed a sigh of relief, “The girl is not being held prisoner. Now all we have to do is find her.”
“Easier said than done.” Natis reminded him.
Creel continued, “I have also heard that whoever it was that kidnapped the princess is planning on trying to trick your friends into handing over the ransom anyway. They will probably be murdered in Cathaar if you do not get word to them.”
“Have you sent word to warn Landis?” Weslocke asked.
Creel shook his head, “By the time that I learned this, they were beyond my reach. We have no contact within Cathaar, it is a very close knit town. We have placed two spies in there in recent years and both were dead within a month’s time.”
“Then we need to go after them.” Natis decided.
“So much for rest.” Weslocke agreed.
“Where can we buy a pair of horses?” The mage inquired.
Weslocke moaned, “First a ship, and now horses. Why didn’t I just ask Eric to hang me instead?”
“May I suggest another way?” Creel asked.
“Only if it is faster.” Natis answered.
“It is,” Creel began, “there is a schooner that will be traveling up the Balii River tonight. The winds are right and the water is high after the storms of the past few days. Even traveling up stream, it will reach Cathaar before your friends do.”
“Why didn’t they take a ship?” Natis wanted to know.
“It was not offered to them.” Creel replied, “This is not a regularly scheduled passage, and the crew are not exactly what you would consider to be model citizens. But I trust them. For a fee they will take you there with no questions asked, if I put in a good word for you.”
Weslocke rubbed his stomach, “Oh gods, not another boat.”
Landis sat in the Minotaur’s Tavern, in the village of Cathaar, nursing a mug of ale as he casually looked about the room. Trevor Kahn sat on the opposite side of the tavern, near the door. He had entered before Landis and scouted the area before the half-elf came inside. Jordan and Jaylen were each stationed outside, nearby the tavern. The Sword of Alexon had been carefully hidden in the woods outside of the village. Not knowing how to make contact with the kidnappers, Landis resorted to asking the serving girl if she had heard of another half-elf by the name of Trian. The girl claimed ignorance, but Landis watched as she quickly made her way back to the bar, where she spoke to the barkeep and pointed back to Landis’ table. The half-elf was certain that his request had set something in motion.
The next time the serving girl passed by, she dropped off a fresh mug of ale at Landis’ table, with a brief message, “A friend of yours has sent you this drink, and requests that you wait until he arrives.”
Landis nodded in gratitude.
It appears that contact has been made,
he thought.
Landis sipped on his new drink, waiting impatiently for someone to join him. The second mug sat empty for more than a half hour before Landis’ wait came to an end.
“Hello, friend.” A voice spoke in an accented Eastland tongue.
Landis looked up at the man who was wrapped in a brown cloak. His long black hair and facial features gave him away as Roolemian. Landis abandoned the standard common tongue spoken in the region. “Are you here to take me to Trian?”
The man pulled a chair out and took a seat at the table. “Patience Landis, Half-Elven. Do you have the negotiated price?”
Landis nodded, “I brought it, but I am not foolish enough to bring it in here with me. I want assurance that Princess Megan is alive, and arrangements for her freedom are in place.”
The stranger drummed his fingers on the table. “You are in no position to negotiate anything. My Lord ensures the safe passage for the young lady, as long as the price is paid.”
“How do you suggest we move forward?” Landis asked.
The stranger leaned closer, “There is a place north of town called Brylaan Stables. Be there at noon tomorrow, and bring the sword with you. The young woman you seek will be there. We will make the exchange, provide you with fresh horses, and send you on your way in peace.”
“That simple.” Landis scoffed.
The stranger slid his chair back and rose. “Think what you wish, but no one wants the young lady harmed. All we want is the sword. Do your part and you will be on your way home tomorrow afternoon.”
Before waiting for an answer, he walked away, leaving Landis sitting alone. The half-elf watched as Trevor Kahn stood and headed towards the exit. He reached the door just before the cloaked stranger did. Only after both of them left the tavern did Landis arise and proceed outside. He looked both ways as he exited, but did not see Trevor or the stranger. Seeing Jordan across the street, he motioned for the prince to meet him at their predetermined location. Both of them walked separately to the edge of the village. Landis approached a well and leaned against the stone wall surrounding it until Jordan joined him.
“We saw the man who left the inn after Trevor. Jaylen is trailing him now.” Jordan said.
“Good.” Landis replied.
Trevor Kahn approached out of the darkness. He was wearing a cloak that he had picked up somewhere to cover his identity. “What is the plan?”
Landis went over all that he was told by the messenger. “You need to go find the place tonight,” he instructed Trevor. “Jordan and I will stay in the village and we will go get the sword in the morning.”
Jordan was growing more anxious. “Why don’t we go there now and wait for them?”
“Because it is likely that we will be watched tonight.” Landis stated. “That is why Trevor and my father will not be with us.”
“How will Jaylen know where to go?” Jordan questioned.
Trevor chuckled, “Do not worry, that man from the tavern will lead him there, or to someone else who will. Jaylen will be in place. He has Landis’ bow. I almost pity the poor bastards who will be waiting for the two of you to arrive.”
“You better get going.” Landis told the Sword-Master of Alexon.
“Aye, I better.” Trevor concurred. He sniffed the air and looked skyward. “Rain is coming. I hope there will be a place to keep dry.”
Landis and Jordan plodded through the mud filled street, as the drizzling rain fell upon them. Jordan carried a bundled sword in his arms as they approached their destination. No one watching could see that the true Sword of Alexon was hanging in the sheath at Landis’ side, concealed by his wet, green cloak.
“I hope they are not spotted.” Jordan whispered, as they neared the corral just outside of the city of Cathaar.
“No one will see my father unless he wants to be seen.” Landis insisted. “Trevor may be another story.”
“This feels like a trap.” Jordan muttered.
Landis agreed. He had not been comfortable with this plan since it had been explained to them the night before. Landis had no doubts that they were walking into a trap, but hoped that their own trickery would provide better odds of rescuing Princess Megan. The wrapping of a plain sword in a blanket was only to prevent someone from riding up and taking it prematurely. Perhaps they would get lucky and end up trading a normal sword for the princess, but Landis doubted that. It was his hope to offer it, and himself, while Megan was permitted to ride away with Jordan. It was not the best way to get the princess back, but it was the only option that they had at the moment.
Landis knew that Jaylen was somewhere nearby, with Landis’ white bow ready. Trevor Kahn was to be waiting within view of the corral, with his own horse. His job was to get Megan and Jordan out of town as quickly as possible. They had already established an escape route to the river, and had two small boats hidden in the brush. The idea was to cross the river and continue down the opposite side, until reaching a small village, where Eric’s contact had promised that they would find help. It would be difficult navigating a small row boat in this weather, especially with the waters high, but that would be safer than taking the road south with possible pursuit. Landis doubted that anyone would suspect that they would have had prior information of the river or the village.
It would be up to Landis and Jaylen to kill off as many of the kidnappers as possible, and hopefully retrieve the sword. If not, then Jaylen would attempt to track them down and finish the task on his own.
The sound of someone pounding a hammer in the forge could be heard over the rain. Landis looked across the way and saw a short, stocky blacksmith banging away at something on an anvil.
“Is that them?” Jordan asked, pointing off in the distance.
Landis looked up ahead. Six mounted riders waiting, three abreast on either side of what appeared to be a cloaked female sitting atop a seventh horse. Landis observed a seventh man sitting upon a horse a short distance away from the others. Near him was a saddled horse that was tethered to the fence post. Landis recognized him as the man he had met in the tavern the night before.
“It is about time,” the man shouted, “I was beginning to think that you had changed your mind.”
“Let me see the princess!” Landis insisted.
The man motioned to his compatriots. One of them reached up and yanked the hood from the female’s head.
“Megan!” Jordan shouted upon seeing his daughter.
Landis grabbed Jordan’s arm with his right hand, “Easy.”
“Father!” Megan called.
“Let her go!” Landis yelled.
The man at the gate chuckled, “Really, without seeing the sword first? Do you believe that we Eastlanders are that stupid? Bring the sword to me.”
Landis and Jordan approached the gate.
“Unroll the sword.” He ordered.
Landis opened his cloak, causing the man to shift in his saddle. “Relax, I have it here.” Landis explained, as he slowly withdrew the Sword of Alexon.
The man’s eyes went wide. He turned to look at the others. Landis followed his gaze, looking at the faces of each man, doing his best to assess the opposition, before permitting his eyes to rest on Megan, the daughter that he had never seen before.
“Let the girl go before I give you the sword.” Landis reminded the kidnapper of their arrangement.
The man motioned with his hand, and Megan was permitted to trot her horse up to the gate.
“Your horse.” The man pointed to the rider-less animal tied to the fence post.
Jordan laid the spare sword—still wrapped in the blanket—against the fence before climbing atop the horse. Megan rode up along side him.
“Are you okay?” Jordan asked his daughter.
“I am fine,” she replied softly, “let’s get out of here.”
Jordan gave Landis a look of sincere concern and thankfulness, before leading Megan away.
“I’ll take the sword now.” The man said to Landis.
“Not until she is safely away.” Landis insisted. “I would not want someone to shoot the girl in the back with an arrow.” He declared, more loudly than necessary.
“You have my word.” The man said.
Landis handed the sword to the man sitting upon the horse. As the kidnapper reached down for it, the half-elf grabbed his arm and pulled him down from the saddle. At that same moment, Jordan cried out in alarm after an arrow struck Megan in the back. The princess toppled from the horse, but was miraculously back on her feet in an instant. Then a second arrow struck her between the breasts. She backed away, but did not fall.
