The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (8 page)

“You stupid moron, you shot me!” the orc in the tree screamed.

“I didn’t do that, I shot into the reeds,” the second orc said.

The orc in the tree fell. There was a thud, then silence.

Hendrel and Saxthor poled into the reeds again just far enough for Saxthor to slip his pole through the horsetails and see what was happening.

The second orc rushed to his companion, who was on the ground, dead. The second orc was distracted, scratching his head, apparently worrying how he shot his companion, and what to do with him.

The crew on the boat pulled themselves closer to shore using the reeds, careful not to attract the orc’s attention. The tops of the horsetails waved as the boat passed among them, but the orc was preoccupied.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna dump you in the swamp,” the second orc said to the dead one. “I don’t wants them others to know I done missed the deer and shot you. I gotta get rid of you and tell them others you run off.”

The troupe froze, then gently backed out beyond the reeds.

A rotting log stretched from the shoreline through the reeds. The orc picked up his dead companion and hoisted him over his shoulder careful not to get blood on his uniform. He climbed up on the log, and holding onto the twisted branch stubs, edged his way out to the deeper water. There he dumped the dead orc into the swamp.

The body bobbed in the black water. A reptilefish chanced by and began to bite chunks out of the orc with its razor sharp teeth. The surviving orc looked at his companion one last time as the worms began attacking the remains. The second orc turned to work his way back along the log.

“Orcs are too muscle-bound for delicate footwork or balance,” Tournak said to Saxthor. He suddenly jumped up in the boat and shouted at the orc, while waving his arms. The other crewmembers realized what he was doing and joined in.

Caught out on the fallen tree without his bow and arrows, the surprise commotion startled the orc, who lost his balance. He fell backward into the water, where the ooze ended and the deeper water began. The orc struggled to climb back on the tree trunk. The swamp worms, waiting at the water’s edge, wiggled out from the ooze and chewed off small chunks of the struggling soldier.

“That’s sickening,” Tonelia said. Fascinated, her grimaced face watched spellbound.

“The orc’s short, stocky legs are keeping him from getting back up on the log.” Hendrel said. “His thrashing and struggling are exciting the swamp worms, triggering a feeding frenzy.”

“Here come the reptilefish,” Tournak said.

“They were already drawn to the dead orc’s blood,” Saxthor said. “More food will be welcome.”

Within minutes, both orcs were gone, leaving only a skeletal hand on the log. The crew worked their way over to the tree trunk and walked along that to land without having to step in the dark ooze, where the worms had just feasted.

“Bodrin, climb up in the tree and keep an eye out for more,” Saxthor said. “The rest of you take short walks, but keep a sharp eye out for more orcs looking for the missing pair.”

After eating and cleaning up the site, they climbed back aboard their boat and backed their way out of the horsetails to deeper water.

“Be careful to close the reeds as we pass back through so there’s no sign of our landing,” Saxthor said.

When dusk turned to night, they were again out on open water. That night they rowed along beside the weeds for cover.

“It’s a long cold night, but at least we ended another orc encounter without discovery,” Bodrin said to Saxthor. “This swamp is infested with evil.”

“The invasion of the South can’t be long in coming,” Saxthor said. He leaned forward and tapped Tournak on the shoulder. Tournak leaned closer. “Good shooting this afternoon.” The others nodded agreement.

Next morning Hendrel, who was steering, noted a bit of a current. Off in the distance, the two sides of the broad swamp converged to form the unmistakable beginnings of the Akkin River. Hendrel shook Saxthor, pointed to the sight, and dropped a leaf in the water. The leaf floated in the new current.

“We’ll have to be especially careful now,” Hendrel said. ”There’ll be Dreaddrac orcs, Prertstenian border guards, and Heggolstockin soldiers – all watching this three-way border junction.”

Saxthor nodded, then turned to look at the beginnings of the Akkin and his first sighting of Prertsten. He put his hand in the water to enjoy the current, but Hendrel jerked it out. A huge fin sliced the water and a wake boiled up, where his hand had been.

Caught in the current, the boat picked up speed moving toward the Akkin River at the junction of the three states. Saxthor grabbed the tip of a submerged tree branch just beyond the reeds, stopping the boat’s progress and swinging the stern around with the current.

“We need to appraise the situation,” Saxthor said. “How’s the best way to slip by the heavily watched border junction without being caught.”

“We need to eat, too,” Bodrin said.

“I have to stretch my legs soon, they’re cramping,” Tonelia added.

As they spoke, an orc arrow flew over the reeds.

“Stay clear!” the orc voice said. “That be the onliest warning you’re gonna get.”

Saxthor heard the muffled thud and looked to see what the arrow struck. Bodrin’s white lips pinched shut locked in silence in his drained face. He bent over, gripping his leg with both hands. The arrow’s shaft protruded from his right thigh above the knee.

The crew froze and remained silent so the orc couldn’t get another fix on them. Saxthor pointed to the opposite shore, Heggolstockin, and at the steering oar, Tournak nodded. Saxthor released the tree branch. Tournak steered the boat into the current and across the open water to Heggolstockin.

“Who goes there?” a guard said. “You can’t land here.”

“The warning not to land is serious,” Hendrel said.

“No one wants us to land.” Tonelia was tightening a tourniquet on Bodrin’s leg. “Well, we have to get help for Bodrin – we’re not equipped for this.”

“We’re men from the South,” Hendrel called out. “An orc shot one of our crew and he needs immediate attention. We seek refuge.”

They heard the guard talking with his comrades: “Orcs are nasty creatures. Their arrows are no better, and a wound from an orc arrow is likely to fester. You may land, but don’t touch your weapons.”

When the boat broke through the cattails, the soldiers saw the Astorax and whipped out their swords.

“What’s that?”

“I’m the Astorax,” Astorax said, in language peculiar to the mountains of Heggolstockin. Some guards recognized it.

“It’s not from Dreaddrac,” a soldier said. He kept his sword drawn and watched the deer-man.

Bodrin drifted into shock, lying on his side, shivering with Tonelia wrapped around him to keep him warm. She rocked Bodrin as if a baby.

“I brought you to this, my best friend,” Saxthor said.

When the Heggolstockin guards saw the sailors’ plight, they decided to lend a hand. Using the staffs from the boat, the crew made a litter and carried Bodrin up the hill to Feldrik Fortress, Heggolstockin’s border castilyernov. In their infirmary, Tournak took charge. “Bite down on this stick, I have to get the arrow out,” Bodrin nodded his understanding. Tonelia held Bodrin’s hand, Saxthor restrained his arms and Hendrel lay across Bodrin’s lower legs. Tournak gripped the arrow and looked at Bodrin. Bodrin’s twitching wide eyes looked from Saxthor to Tournak - he nodded.

Tournak held Bodrin’s knee down and jerked out the arrow. Bodrin’s bite snapped the shaft. He doubled up in pain, then fell back, unconscious. Tonelia wiped the blood from the wound with a clean wet cloth. Tournak sewed up the wound to stop the bleeding. Tonelia knew herbs, and Tournak knew medicinal magic, so the two of them dressed Bodrin’s wound and cared for him for the next week. Saxthor maintained a vigil beside his friend while he was recovering.

“I feel responsible for Bodrin. It should have been me,” Saxthor said. “The journey has been longer and more dangerous than I wanted to face. Only luck has saved us from serious injury before now.”

Tournak stopped Saxthor, faced him, and put both hands on his shoulders, making Saxthor look him in the eye. “It’s not your fault. We all knew this was a dangerous undertaking before we came along of our own free wills.”

*

“How’s your leg feeling?” Saxthor asked on the second morning at Feldrik. “Tonelia’s herbal poultices have prevented it from festering.”

“It’s much better,” Bodrin watched Saxthor. “I’m going to be fine.”

“I know. We’ll have to go fishing on the Nhy, when we get home,” Saxthor said, staring at the floor. He turned to Bodrin, hesitated then spoke. “I should have sent you home and not dragged you along on this dangerous journey.” He forced a smile.

“Stop worrying. You’re looking at the danger as an adult, maybe for the first time. All of us accepted the risk when we came along.”

Saxthor nodded and looked away. All his friends were here with him. I exposed you all to hazards that could, and most likely will, get you killed, he thought.

“Stop blaming yourself. I can see you’re hurting as much as I am,” Bodrin said. “It upsets me to think you’re taking it all on yourself. We chose to come with you. I’m going to recover and kick your butt if you don’t let go of that guilt.”

“I know you volunteered; but I don’t think you realized what you were getting yourselves into. I should make you all go home,” Saxthor said, his boot scratching at sunlight on the floor.

Bodrin laughed, and Saxthor looked up at him. “And now you think you’re big enough to make me go home?” Bodrin asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Look, you could’ve been killed! Prertsten is loyal to Dreaddrac, and if Prertsten’s Prince Pindradese captures us, he’ll have us killed. I’ve no right to let you take a chance like that; you’re my best friend. What kind of a person would let his friend be killed wandering around on a hopeless mission?”

Bodrin sat up on his forearms, “What kind of a friend would let his buddy go off to Prertsten without him?”

“I can’t bear being responsible for your getting hurt.”

“Life is a journey, Saxthor. You think I want to sit home safe, while you have the adventure of a lifetime. I’d resent your preventing me from sharing this journey. Whatever happens, it’s an experience we’ll share and relive in our old age around the fireplace. You can’t deny me the experience and memories. Understand this; adventure gives life its richness. It paints the color and texture of life’s pattern. It’s risk that adds the depth and brilliance to that pattern.”

“Yeah, like you’re going to remember the arrow in your leg.”

Saxthor looked up at Bodrin, and the two of them looked at each other for a moment. I guess this is as much Bodrin’s fulfillment of his life’s purpose as it is mine, he thought. They’ve all chosen to come on the mission. They think it’s worth the risk and live for the excitement, being part of something important. Saxthor thought.

He nodded. “Your wounded self better get well soon. I understand the Prince Pindradese doesn’t take wounded prisoners. Besides, we’d look pitiful charging into Prertsten with you on a stretcher.”

Bodrin laughed. “I’ll be able to kick your tail all the way to Prertsten Palace in a week or so. You’d better go get some exercise and keep in shape. It’s more likely I’ll have to haul
your
butt to the capital.”

Saxthor squeezed Bodrin’s shoulder.

“You’re right about that, you’ve always looked out for me.”

“How about telling Tonelia I sure would like something with meat in it tonight, so I can build up my muscles to chase you out of here.”

Saxthor laughed. “He reads me like a book.”

“Get out of here before you have me bawling and we both look stupid,” Bodrin said.

“Thanks, my friend.”

*

Saxthor found Tonelia.

“Tonelia, would you fix the invalid something with extra meat tonight so he’ll heal faster?”

Tonelia nodded, “Of course I will. He’s recovering well.”

“Thank you for all you’ve done for us, and for making Bodrin so happy. You mean so much to us all, tending to our needs, while being dragged through every horror without a serious complaint.”

She looked up at Saxthor and returned a smile, then flushed. “What you mean ‘without a serious complaint,’ I’ve tried hard. You just weren’t listening.”

“Tonelia, you’re a treasure.”

“I’m not used to compliments, you know. Does this mean you want extra food too? Cause I can only handle one pitiful at a time on this journey.”

Saxthor said nothing, but chuckled, then left, shaking his head. He walked with Delia out onto the battlements, where he looked out over the Edros Swamp. In the breeze, there was no other sound, and his mind cleared. Delia licked his hand and he petted her.

I couldn't have better friends, he thought. These people, half strangers, have stood by me through the worst of times. How could I ever express how much I appreciate them? Tournak has been a parent, having raised Bodrin and me on Helshia. Hendrel, and this extraordinary man Astorax are the rarest and truest of friends. The fires of danger forged these family bonds. We’ll always support each other when most alone or endangered.

Saxthor felt peaceful and secure, standing with the breeze in his face, free of the festering swamp. No matter how the mission turned out, no one could take away the journey’s extraordinary experiences or the friendships formed. The sound of footsteps on the stone stairs behind him broke his thoughts.

“When’re we leaving, Saxthor?” Tournak asked. He stood beside Saxthor on the battlements staring out across the moon-sparkled Akkin River with its icy lace fringes.

“Looks like Bodrin will be well enough to travel in about a week. We’ll leave as soon as we can without endangering him. I hate for him to move so soon but it’s a race against time, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and now we’re hunted.”

Saxthor looked to Tournak. “We have to find the jewels and get back to Memlatec before these infiltrations turn to open war, and with each day, Dreaddrac’s minions gain on us. Some of these enemy penetrations into the kingdoms make it appear the war is already underway.”

“Hendrel and Astorax are getting fidgety, too,” Tournak said. “It’ll be good to get moving again. By the time we secure the Prertstenian jewel, the Dark Lord will know what we’re up to. He’ll be frantic to catch us before we get back home and the journey back to Konnotan will take a long time.”

“Yes, but Bodrin must be well enough to withstand the journey’s strain. If they discover us, we’ll have to move fast to escape. We all need this rest; it’s the first we’ve had since Hador.”

“What’re you two up to out here on the battlements?” Hendrel asked, walking up from the stairs.

“We’re discussing when we’re leaving,” Tournak said.

“Soon, I hope.” Hendrel rubbed his hands together in the chilly air. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we get to go home.”

“I think he’s enjoying the adventure,” Tournak said. “His shop will seem dull now. Are you in such a rush to get home?”

Grinning, Hendrel made a punching gesture at Tournak’s shoulder.

They started back down the tower stairs savoring the camaraderie they seldom had time to appreciate. Astorax and Twit met them on the stairs. Twit now seemed to enjoy bobbing along perched in Astorax’s antlers.

“Did we miss a conference?” Astorax asked. “Not to spoil the fun, but I hope we’re leaving soon. These Feldrik people are worrying me. They can’t seem to get used to the fact I’m the legendary Astorax. Some of these men have heard tales of me from their relatives back home. They can’t decide whether to shake my hand or shoot me for a trophy.”

All four men laughed and returned to their quarters.

Later that day, Saxthor met with Feldrik’s commanding general in his office, his thick graying mustache and bushy eyebrows reinforced the general’s stern expression. He looked up from behind his desk hearing Saxthor approach. His paperwork framed the general and set off his dark green uniform with its gold braid and metals.

“General, we need to leave as soon as Bodrin is well enough. That should be in about a week. Is that permissible?”

“I sent word to both the duke and King Grekenbach when you arrived. By the time you’re ready to leave, we should know if your story is valid or not. Meanwhile you’ll continue to be our guests here at Feldrik.”

When Bodrin was mostly healed and able to walk with only a slight limp, Saxthor became anxious to resume the mission. He’d seen the Dark Lord’s activities had increased since they began the quest. It wouldn’t be long before Dreaddrac’s armies would march. I’m running out of time, he thought.

Bodrin was well enough to travel when the general sent for Saxthor. This time, when Saxthor reached the general’s office, the commander was standing in front of his desk, almost at attention, focused on his visitor.

“Prince Saxthor,” the general said, bowing deeply. “Forgive my not recognizing your position sooner. I had to verify what you said. King Grekenbach has sent word that you're indeed a prince of Neuyokkasin. We're to provide any and all the assistance you request within our means. Apparently you made quite an impression on his majesty.”

“Thank you, General. You’ve been most kind, and our stay with you has been most refreshing. However, we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“I understand, Your Highness. You’ve but to tell my aide what you need and we’ll put our resources at your disposal.”

“If we’re able to outfit our boat, we’ll leave tonight,” Saxthor said. “Though the Dark Lord’s creatures are more active at night, we have a better chance of crossing the river in the new moon’s shadowy light.”