Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (50 page)

The dwarf frowned, “Open your eyes. Elves are supposed to be able see good in the dark.”

Confused, Flare glanced around at the home site again. House, shed, bushes, it was as he had seen it originally. Small corral for the cows, he could see them sleeping now. Looking closer, he realized the cows were lying on their side, and then it hit him. That was not how a cow slept, looking closer, it became obvious that they were dead.

His suspicion aroused, Flare kicked his horse forward, looking all around as they moved. There were quite a few prints on the ground, and with a start he recognized them. Goblins. “Atock, Philip. Goblins did this. Stay alert.” The other two guardians swore, and Atock even drew his swords.

Arnok waved his hand at Atock, “Put that thing away. This was done days ago and goblins don't wait around.” He pointed over at the cow carcasses. “If the goblins had stayed, they wouldn't have butchered the cows and left them to rot.”

Atock peered in the general direction that Arnok had pointed, but obviously he couldn't see anything. It was getting dark quick. “I'll take your word for that.” He said simply.

Flare had dismounted, and was walking around the remains of the house. Thanks to his elven sight, he could still clearly. “Well, I don't see any bodies. Hey Arnok, does Morley live alone?”

“Yep.” The dwarf called back.

“Flare. I think we need to find a place to set up camp. It's dark, cold, and raining.” Philip said sighing, “It's going to be a long night.

“You're right.” Flare said, moving back over to his horse. “Arnok, any place near here where we could make camp?”

“Preferably a place with some shelter.” Atock interjected.

Arnok considered for a moment, “You know, there is a place on the other hill.” He pointed to the hill that was over to the north, but Flare was the only one who could see his hand. “It's a shed, bigger than this one.” This time he pointed at the burnt out shed just to the right of the house. “Morley uses it for smoking, or at least he used to. I don't think that he has used it in a while.” He paused, “Maybe, the goblins didn't get it.”

Philip's head turned quickly, his eyes searching for Flare. Flare knew what he was thinking, could this be a trap? The thought had already occurred to him, but Flare doubted it of the dwarf, but still, they had to be careful. He nodded at Philip; they were close enough for Philip to see him. “Okay. But everybody be careful. Keep your eyes open.” Philip nodded, and Flare knew that he had caught his meaning.

It took almost an hour to reach the base of the other hill, mainly due to the darkness, although the rain didn't help either. The short distance between the two hills was covered by small trees and bushes, which were difficult to navigate in the dark. Arnok rode in the front, his dwarven sight helped him pick out the best route for them to travel, plus he was the only one who knew where they were going. Flare brought up the rear, his elven sight allowing him to clearly pick out little pitfalls and he kept calling out to Atock and Philip, both of whom rode in the middle of their little group.

Arnok led them towards a small clump of trees, at the base of the second hill. Two oak trees on either side leaned towards each other, and smaller trees grew around in a circle. It reminded Flare of the hollow just north of Helum, where the dwarf had agreed to be their guide, well, except for the fact that this group of trees was smaller.

He scanned back and forth, looking for any movement. The darkness wasn't helping, and the rain was falling harder now, but still he kept looking. He couldn't see anything dangerous to the left or right, and the only thing that bothered him was straight ahead. The bushes and smaller trees grew so close together; that he couldn't make what was in the middle of the trees. Still, this didn't seem the best place for an ambush. If someone was waiting for them, they should have attacked at the house, before the guardians' suspicions were aroused.

Hardly slowing, Arnok rode between the first two bushes and disappeared. Sighing audibly, Philip followed the dwarf, his right hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

Atock and Flare quickly followed Philip and the dwarf through. They passed several bushes and trees. One branch caught on Atock's saddle, and was bent back, until his horse pulled free. The branch suddenly loose, sprang back to its original position, and slapped Flare hard across the face. Cursing and sputtering, they pushed through the last several bushes and into a small clearing. Immediately in front of them was Morley's smokehouse. It was a small poorly built building, and Flare was sure that a good puff of wind would blow the whole thing right over. The wood was old, and seemed half-rotten. There were, of course, no windows, and no lights showed through. As small as the smokehouse was, it still took up almost all of the free space between the trees. There was a small clearing directly in front of the shack, and a tiny porch ran along the front.

Arnok and Philip sat astride their horses, looking about. It was even darker in here, under the tree limbs.

“Arnok. Any sign of goblins?” Flare asked quickly and quietly. He hadn't noticed anything, but the dwarf was closer, and had been here a few extra moments.

The dwarf was quiet for a moment, studying the ground in the darkness. “There are tracks, but I don't think they belong to goblins.” He paused, studying the tracks. “Maybe human.”

Even in the dark, Flare could see the dwarf's face light up.

“Could it be?” The dwarf asked, but before anyone could ask what he was talking about, he spoke again. “Morley? Are you there?” He hadn't quite shouted, but in the quiet of the trees, the dwarf's voice still seemed to echo.

Flare looked around, listening intently for any sign of the trapper. He heard a faint snapping noise, and he looked upwards trying to locate the sound. An oak branch hung down in front of the shack's roof, and as Flare stared at it, he realized that there was someone on the branch staring right back at him. He opened his mouth to shout, but the person on the branch beat him to it.

“Arnok? Is that really you?”

Flare was the only one who had spotted the man, so understandably, the other three jumped like a scalded cat at the man's voice. Philip even half drew his sword from its sheath.

The man on the branch, who could only be Morley, slid back towards the trunk of the tree, until he was directly over a smaller tree, which he used to climb down. He approached them hesitantly, seeming unsure if he should trust his eyes or not. “I never expected to see you here.”

Arnok dismounted, followed quickly by the other three. He grasped Morley's forearm in friendship. It was a good thing, as it looked like the trapper might fall over without the dwarf's support. “Morley, what happened here?”

“More importantly, are there still goblins around?” Flare interjected.

“No. At least, I don't think so.” Morley answered, shaking his head. He seemed confused, almost stumbling over his words. “Let's, let's get inside, out of the rain.” He led Arnok to the door of the decrepit building, and opening it with a loud creak, the two disappeared into the darkness beyond.

“I don't trust him.” Philip stated flatly, dismounting his horse.

“Hey, but you don't trust anyone.” Atock retorted in a jovial fashion, “I mean to say that you probably don't trust Flare and me.”

Flare was more inclined to agree with Philip on this one. Not that he thought the trapper was lying, but he seemed confused and disorientated. “Let's just be careful.” He said dismounting, just because they haven't attacked this building, doesn't mean they have left the area.”

Atock nodded soberly, “Okay, why don't I see if I can scratch up something to eat?”

Philip sighed, “I guess that means that I have to take care of the horses.”

Smiling, Flare handed his reins over to Philip. “Remember, stay alert.”

Entering the small shack, Flare was pleased to see that Arnok had wasted no time in getting a small oil lamp lit. Glancing around, it was obvious that Morley hadn't used this place as a smokehouse in years. The bland rectangular room was cluttered with old broken furniture, half-rotten clothes, and other odds and ends. But there were several bright spots as Flare saw it. One, the roof seemed to be holding, and if not completely, it was at least keeping the leaks to a minimum. Two, the smokehouse floor was big enough for at least six grown men to sleep, well, it would be as soon as some of the junk was tossed out. Three, the stone fire pit in the middle of the room could still be used, not to smoke something, but to keep them warm and to cook their dinner over.

Arnok and Morley sat on the edge of the fire pit, and they looked up as Flare entered. Morley was just finishing taking a drink from a small flask, which he promptly handed back to the dwarf. Seeing Flare's raised eyebrows, the dwarf mumbled, “for medicinal purposes.”

Smiling, Flare moved over to join them. Offering his right hand, which Morley took warily, he introduced himself. “Morley, my name is Flare, and I really need to know how long ago this all happened.”

Morley studied Flare for a moment, before he spoke. “Never met an elf before.” He mumbled quietly. “Seems nice enough, though.”

Flare was a little taken aback by the trapper talking about him like he wasn't here, but perhaps that was due to his age. Now that he could see the old man better, he realized just how old the trapper was. His hair was solid white, without an ounce of color; at least the old man was lucky enough to still have a full head of hair though. His skin was brown, tanned by the sun, and very leathery looking. Another thought occurred to Flare, perhaps the old man wasn't all there, or perhaps the attack had set him off. There were several holes in his clothes, and he was awfully thin.

The whole time that Flare had been studying the trapper, he had been studying Flare. “What? You don't like my clothes?” He demanded, half trying to rise from his seat, but Arnok grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down.

“Morley!” Arnok said, partially raising his voice, “Lord Vinekh personally asked me to bring them to you. They need your help, and Vinekh was hoping you would help.”

The trapper had quieted down, and he quit trying to pull free of the dwarf. “Morley,” Flare said, feeling like he needed to smooth things out. “I am disgusted,” both the trapper and the dwarf froze at Flare's words, “but not at your appearance. I am disgusted that the goblins would raid the home of a man such as yourself, and that no one ever bothers to check on you.”

The trapper watched Flare for a moment, and then apparently deciding that Flare wasn't being coy, he relaxed; the tension seemed to melt away from him. Arnok, also relaxed.

“Two days ago.” Morley finally said, breaking the silence. “They came two days ago, when I was in the woods trying to find my dog. I was cussing him for making me look for him, but I guess he saved my life, it wasn't the first time that the old fleabag saved me.” He paused for a moment, and there was a definite welling of tears in the old man's eyes.

Flare felt sorry for the old man. He probably had lost everything in that attack, including his dog, which was probably his only true friend.

“Anyway, I was headed back to the house, I couldn't find Prince anywhere, and I heard the cows making a noise.” He paused to adjust his position, and froze as the door opened again. Atock entered, carrying several of their packs.

Flare motioned Atock to the far end of the fire pit. “Go ahead and get us a fire going.”

Atock nodded, “I'll get us something to eat, too.”

Flare nodded and turned back to Morley, “Please, go ahead.”

Morley watched Atock, as the fighter walked passed them, and then he continued. “Well, as I said, I heard the cows making a hell of a noise, so I rushed back. I got to the edge of the forest, and I saw the shapes in the darkness. I've seen a few goblins in my day, and I recognized them easily enough. There was too many of them, and there was nothing I could do. I watched them slaughter all my animals, and burn my home.” Once again there were tears in the old man's eyes, and his voice cracked. “Everything I had went up in that blaze.” He leaned forward, and rested his head in his hands.

“You old fool; you should have enough pelts to sell by now. You should be able to rebuild easy enough.” Arnok grumbled. “You'll get through this okay.”

Morley shook his head, “No. I haven't been able to hunt in the
Black Forest
this year.”

“You haven't hunted there at all?” Arnok blurted, his surprise evident. “But, I thought that you hunted there every year.”

“I do,” Morley retorted, “but this year, the whole forest is overrun with them damn goblins. I can't track animals and look over my shoulder at the same time.”

Goblins in the Black forest? “Are there normally goblins in the
Black forest
?” Flare asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

Morley shook his head, “No. I mean, there are some near the mountains, but this year, they are everywhere.”

This could be a problem. He had planned on entering Golteranth through the forest, but if that was not an option, then how would they get through the mountains? Flare kneeled down on his right knee in front of the old trapper. “Morley. My friends and I were hoping to hire you as a guide.”

“Really! How much were you paying?” Morley asked quickly. His eyes had lit up at the offer of money.