The elves had let them go. The forest buffalo were not the prey they were hunting.
Ondeth started to form a question over the tumult, but he got no further than opening his mouth before there was a greater crashing from the forest. In the dim distance, as the earth beneath his boots trembled, an old, massive shadowtop tree toppled slowly over. Then the cause of its fall burst into view, and Ondeth’s words died in his throat.
It was an owlbear, that dangerous predator of the woods all over Faerun, but this one was larger than any owlbear he’d ever seen, looming as tall as two men or more as it lumbered along. Its fur was scorched in places, and it snapped its birdlike beak as it came nearer, slashing and raking the trees as it passed. Its claws were like rows of daggers, each as long as Ondeth’s forearm, and it shredded the leaves around it in sheer rage as it advanced.
The farmer watched it, fascinated. The creature’s fur became longer and finer toward its head, resembling brown feathers, which framed wide, watery eyes, golden orbs filled with a deep and mighty fury
The great owlbear checked its rush only for a moment when it saw the line of hunters ahead. It reared fully erect, its triangular head grazing the spreading branches of the largest trees, and wheeled around to glare at the lights bobbing behind it.
Then it snarled, made its decision-and charged.
There was a slight gap in the elven line, between the human farmer and the elven maiden who had smiled at Baerauble. The owlbear went for it as fast as it could move.
The wizard took a step nearer Ondeth, raised his hands, and barked a string of twisted, clacking syllables that should not have been possible for a human mouth to form. Radiances burst into being around his hands, flared to a blinding brightness, and left his fingers as a crackling, crawling arc of lightning.
The wizard’s bolt seared its way along the great owlbear’s flank, then died away. Smoke curled up, and the air suddenly smelled of summer storms and burning fur. The owlbear did not slow down.
The elves were running from both ends of the line now, but they’d spaced themselves out too far. The owlbear would be on top of the two men before the hunters could bar its path. Ondeth swallowed.
This forest monster would likely kill them unless the mage had another lightning bolt up his sleeve. Kill them-or slay the elf maiden with the radiant smile.
Ondeth’s imagination offered him a brief, vivid scene of her being torn apart by those great claws, blood spraying in all directions, and he roared out a denial, hefted his sledge, and stepped in front of the elf maiden. The owlbear swerved, not to pass through the gap he’d opened up but to attack, claws glittering, and Ondeth Obarskyr brought the heavy hammer around in a single, solid blow, smashing into the beast just below its shoulder.
The owlbear howled, a keening wail that drowned out the blaring horns, then lowered its head in pain-and slammed into Ondeth, butting him with its fur-covered head. it felt like a pillow wrapped around a building stone.
Ondeth was aware he was flying through the air, flung backward to land hard, dropping his sledge as he bounced bruisingly and fought to find air. Tears of pain stung his eyes, but through their blur, he saw the owlbear break through the elven line.
The elf maiden was there. She’d driven her spear into the monster’s other shoulder and used it to pull herself onto the beast’s back. She shouted something in the elvish tongue and brandished a long bone-colored knife. The owlbear roared as she drove the blade into the back of its neck, but still the creature did not slow down. Coming to his knees, Ondeth saw it charge on into the forest beyond, the elf maiden whooping and shouting as she clung to her spear, riding the owlbear as it disappeared.
Baerauble reached down a hand, helped the farmer to his feet, and handed him his hammer. Ondeth started to say something, but the wizard shushed him with the words, “One more thing to be seen first,” and turned back to face the trees whence the owlbear had come. Ondeth looked in that direction, too.
The beaters were appearing through the trees. Without question, they were the most radiant beings of beauty Ondeth had ever seen. Without saddle or bridle, they rode the sleek backs of deer, graceful beasts that sprang along lightly and effortlessly. Most of their riders wore the same fine chain as the hunters, but some were clad only in diaphanous robes that trailed behind them like smoke. Their battle horns curled about in large, sweeping circles, and were tipped with huge-mouthed bronze bells.
The riders were surrounded by the flying lights, spheres that bobbed and darted playfully around them, casting half a hundred shadows. Ondeth could see these strange, beautiful radiances rippling with energy across their otherwise featureless surfaces.
Then came the elf nobles, Ondeth knew their exalted rank at a glance. Their mounts were huge stags whose gilded antlers were laced with silver filigree and flew more than bounded. Proud riders bestrode them, lords and ladies of the forests in fine, flowing outfits of silklike finery, their silver and corn-colored hair streaming behind them in long braids.
The most ornately robed figure, obviously the leader of the elves, passed close by the two humans. Baerauble bowed low and tapped Ondeth’s shoulder, indicating he should do the same.
Ondeth stayed on his feet, hammer in hand, and regarded the lordly elf with calm admiration.
Elf and man locked eyes for a moment. The elf lord had a long, ragged scar down one cheek and carried an ornate golden scepter topped with a glossy-polished amethyst. He wore a simple crown of some silvery metal. It consisted of a circlet with three spikes along the brow, each spike topped with another purple gem.
The elf lord held the man’s eyes for a measured moment, then smiled, a great, toothy smile that dimmed even that of the elf maiden.
And then he was gone, his stag bounding away through the underbrush, and the elven hunters on foot were sprinting away after the nobles, spears held high, racing off into the forest after the echoing, fading wail of the gigantic owlbear.
Ondeth watched them pass out of sight, staring after them in wonder. He started when the mage touched his shoulder.
“I think Lord Iliphar approves,” Baerauble said gently.
“Approves?” asked Ondeth, not understanding. Then he turned to face the wizard and said slowly, “You brought me here not to show your elves to me… but to show me to your elves.”
A half-smile touched the wizard’s lips. “First meetings are important. If Iliphar’s Hunting Court first saw you as a human intruder disputing some forest kill with an elven hunter, your dealings with elves would probably follow the trail of most humans-a long, descending spiral of testings that would end in the destruction of your homestead. This time, they’ll remember a brave human who helped in the taking down of one of the last giant owlbears in the eastern reaches.”
“That woman…” Ondeth said slowly. “She didn’t need my help, did she?”
“My lady Dahast is a show-off,” said Baerauble with a smile, stressing the word ‘my’ ever so slightly but clearly. “No, she did not. I can tell you she appreciated it, however.”
Ondeth nodded. “It was so-” he searched for the right word-“beautiful.”
The mage arched his eyebrows in surprise.
“Beautiful,” repeated the farmer. “The lights in the trees, the horns, the elves themselves.” He spread his hands out in the direction the elves had gone. “Beautiful.”
Ondeth turned to Baerauble. “This is a wondrous land a land of startling beauty. It is better even than Impiltur, and a palace compared to swampy Marsember or the other rough holds of men on these shores. If the elves seek to keep this as their hunting place, I will respect that and see to it that any who settle with me respect it as well… if they’ll allow us to remain.”