“I do not go where I want to go,” he would say. “I go where I need to be.”
Since they could elicit no information from the Walking God, one of the Faithful took it upon himself to question Elspeth, asking her in a low voice what was wrong, what she feared. Elspeth might have been deaf, as well as mute, for she did even glance his way. She kept her gaze fixed upon Valthonis and, as the elf later reported to his fellows, her face was drawn and tense.
Already uneasy and nervous about their surroundings, the elven warriors were not quite caught off guard by the sudden attack. Something struck them as wrong as they passed beneath the leaves of the overhanging tree limbs. Perhaps it was a smell; minotaur have a bovine stench that is not easy to conceal. Perhaps it was the breaking of a stick beneath a heavy boot, or the shifting of a large body in the underbrush. Whatever it was, the elves sensed danger, and they slowed their pace.
The two in front drew their swords and fell back to take up positions on either side of Valthonis. The elves following nocked their arrows and raised their bows and turned to stare intently into the shifting shadows in the trees.
“Show yourselves!” one of the elves shouted harshly in Common.
The minotaur soldiers obeyed his command, clambering up out of the ditches and surging onto the road. Steel clanged against steel. Bowstrings twanged and the druid began to chant a prayer to Chislev, calling on her for blessed aid.
Valthonis’ voice cut through the chaos, ringing out loudly and forcefully. “Stop this! Now.”
He spoke with such authority that all the combatants obeyed him, including the minotaurs, who reacted to the commanding tone out of instinct. A heartbeat later they realized that it was their intended victim who had ordered them to cease and, feeling foolish, sprang again to the attack.
This time Galdar roared, “Stop in the name of Sargas!” The minotaur soldiers, seeing their leader striding forward, reluctantly lowered their swords and fell back.
The elves and the minotaurs eyed each other balefully. No one attacked, but no one sheathed his blade. The druid was still praying. Valthonis placed a hand upon the man’s shoulder and spoke a soft word. The druid cast him a pleading glance, but Valthonis shook his head, and the prayer to Chislev ended in a sigh.
Galdar raised his only hand to show he bore no weapon and walked toward Valthonis. The Faithful moved to interpose their own bodies between the Walking God and the minotaur.
“Walking God,” said Galdar, speaking over the heads of those who blocked him, “I would speak to you—in private.”
“Stand aside, my friends,” said Valthonis. “I will hear what he has to say.”
One of the elves tried to argue, but Valthonis would not listen. He asked the Faithful again to stand aside and this they did, though reluctantly and unhappily. Galdar ordered his soldiers to keep their distance and they obeyed, though with lowering looks at the elves.
Galdar and Valthonis walked into the trees, out of earshot of their followers.
“You are Valthonis, once the god Paladine,” stated Galdar.
“I am Valthonis,” said the elf mildly.
“I am Galdar, emissary of the great god known to minotaur as Sargas, known to those like yourselves as Sargonnas. My god bids me speak these words: ‘You have unfinished business in the world, Valthonis, and because you have chosen to ‘walk’ away from this challenge there is new strife in heaven and among men. The great Sargas wants to bring this strife to an end. This matter must be brought to a swift and final resolution. To facilitate this, he will bring about a meeting between you and your challenger.’”
“I hope you do think I am being argumentative, Emissary, but I am afraid I know nothing about this strife or the challenge of which you speak,” Valthonis replied.
Galdar rubbed his muzzle with the side of his hand. He was uncomfortable, for he believed in honor and in honesty, and in this he was being less than honest, less than honorable.
“Perhaps not a challenge from Mina,” Galdar clarified, hoping his god would understand. “More of a threat. Still,” he went on before Valthonis could reply, “it hangs between the two of you like noxious smoke, poisoning the air.”
“Ah, I understand now,” Valthonis said. “You speak of Mina’s vow to kill me.”
Galdar glanced about uneasily at his minotaur escort. “Keep your voice down when you mention her name. My people consider her a witch.”
He cleared his throat and added stiffly, “I was told by Sargas to say that the Horned God wants to bring the two of you together, that you may resolve your differences.”
Valthonis smiled wryly at this, and Galdar, embarrassed, kept on rubbing his muzzle. Sargas had no intention the two should resolve their differences. Galdar had no love for any elf, but he scorned to lie to this one. He had his orders, however, and so he said what he’d been told to say, though he was making it clear he wasn’t the one to say it.
The two were interrupted by one of the Faithful, who called out, “You have no need to parlay with this brute, sir. We can and will fight to defend you—”
“No blood will be shed because of me,” said Valthonis sharply. He cast a stern glance at the Faithful. “Have you walked the road with me all this time and listened to me speak of peace and brotherhood and yet heard nothing I have said to you?”
His voice rasped, and his followers were abashed. They did not know where to look to avoid his angry gaze, and so averted their faces or stared at the ground. Only Elspeth did not look away. Only she met his gaze. He smiled at her in reassurance and then turned back to Galdar.
“I will accompany you on the condition that my companions be allowed to leave unharmed.”
“Those are my orders,” said Galdar. He raised his voice so that all could hear. “Sargas wants peace. He does not want to see blood spilled.”
One of the elves sneered at this, and one of the minotaurs growled, and the two leaped at each other. Galdar flung himself at the minotaur and socked him in the jaw. Elspeth grasped the sword arm of the elven warrior and pulled him back. Startled, the warrior immediately lowered his weapon.
“If you will walk with us, sir,” Galdar said, shaking out his bruised knuckles, “we will act as your escort. Give me your vow that you will not try to escape, and I will not chain you.”
“You have my word,” said Valthonis. “I will not escape. I go with you of my own free will.”
He bade goodbye to the Faithful, giving his hand to each and asking the gods to bless them.
“Do not fear, sir,” said one softly, speaking Silvanesti elven, “we will rescue you.”
“I have given my word,” said Valthonis. “I will not break it.”
“But, sir—”
The Walking God shook his head and turned away, only to find Elspeth blocking him. It seemed she longed to speak, for her jaw trembled and low, animal sounds came from her throat.
Valthonis touched her cheek with his hand. “You need say nothing, child. I understand.”
Elspeth grasped hold of his hand and pressed it to her cheek.
“Take care of her,” Valthonis ordered the Faithful.
He gently freed his hand from her grasp and walked to where Galdar and the minotaur guard stood waiting for him.
“You have my word. And I have yours,” said Valthonis. “My friends depart unharmed.”
“May Sargas take my other arm if I break my oath,” said Galdar. He entered the forest, and Valthonis followed. The minotaur guard closed in around them both.
The Faithful stood on the path amidst the gathering gloom, watching their leader depart. Their elven sight allowed them to keep track of Valthonis for a long while and, then, when they could not see him, they could hear the minotaur crashing and hacking their way through the brush. The Faithful looked at one another. The minotaur had left a trail a blind gully dwarf could follow. They would be easy to track.