“How much farther?” asked the female, plaintively raising her hood enough to look at Dram. “I say we should give up!”
“How in blazes should I know how much farther?” groused the dwarf. “We’re going to follow those knights until I say we stop! And we won’t stop until they stop! So shut up, keep going!”
Dram dropped his head and pushed forward, ignoring the whispered complaints exchanged by the two trail-weary gnomes. He was determined, implacable! He was a mountain dwarf, dammit!
In the depths of his heart, though, his determination was beginning to flag. Dram didn’t have the slightest idea how they could possibly rescue Jaymes.
For one thing, the knights, on horseback, made much better time than the three short-legged pursuers. Only by pushing on into the dark of each night, and starting off with the first glimmer of dawn, had Dram been able to keep on their trail.
On yesterday’s trek, it had been nearly sunset by the time they reached the camp which the Knights of Solamnia and their prisoner had departed from twelve hours earlier. Now they were a full day behind the column of knights.
“Why does that guy mean so much to you, anyway?” Carbo had asked the night before in the moments before they fell asleep. “Why do we have to catch up to them and try to save him?”
“He saved my life once,” Dram had said-simply, and truthfully. Only to himself did he admit there was more to it than that. There was a destiny laid upon Jaymes Markham, a cause that propelled him. He was a man in search of vengeance, but it was more than that. The dwarf had embraced the man and his destiny. Win or lose, he was determined to share his friend’s fate.
It was the tenth day following Jaymes’s capture. The jagged crest of the Vingaard Mountains had formed the western horizon, with its skyline to their left. Now the trail of the knights abruptly veered, with those peaks rising before them. The knights were heading west, straight into the mountain range.
“We’re not going to climb those, are we?” asked Carbo hesitantly, as Dram stopped to take a drink from his water flask.
“Nah,” the dwarf said with a lot more assurance than he felt. “There’s a pass right through ’em-High Clerist’s Pass. They’re heading to Palanthas, I’m pretty sure, and it’s a good short cut.”
Of course, he had never taken that road, but he had heard of it. He knew it was guarded by an ancient fortress and tower, the site of many a crucial battle during past wars. How they would pass that castle undetected was a question that bothered him. Perhaps, as some had said, the fortress had fallen into ruin and disrepair. In any event, first they had to navigate the long, winding road leading up to the summit. Dram was certain that it would involve a lot more climbing than the gnomes were accustomed to. Of course he, being a mountain dwarf, was not deterred by the thought of a few miles of steep, uphill walking.
At least there would be the cover of trees, he told himself, as they approached the foothills. He could see that the party of knights had moved onto an old flagstone road, probably one of the ancient highways dating back to the days of the Solamnic Empire. There was plenty of proof that their horses had passed by.
The sun had already set behind the crest of the mountains as the roadway entered a region of forest. They were following a river valley, the highway just a few paces above a rapid, clear stream that spilled between a bracket of frowning cliffs. When Sulfie spotted a patch of blackberry bushes down near the water, Dram agreed to a brief halt, even though they still had perhaps an hour of daylight left. A little rest, coupled with some fresh fruit, might give them the energy to make up some lost ground the next day.
The clouds broke up as the made camp, and the dwarf decided to indulge in the luxury of a fire, hoping to dry out some of their possessions and keep the mountain chill away. The companions camped in a narrow grotto with steep stone walls on two sides. Dram was able to find lots of dry wood under the thick branches of the evergreens. Piling sticks in a makeshift firepit, he struck a spark into dry pine needles and soon had a crackling blaze.
“We can dry out a few of these wet clothes, before they start rotting right onto our bodies,” he remarked, stripping off his woolen shirt and leggings, propping them on a makeshift rack of branches. He settled back, munching a handful of berries that the gnomes had collected, and feeling a measure of satisfaction. His eyelids grew heavy, and he leaned back against a grassy hummock.
“Hey!”
Sulfie’s exclamation had Dram jumping to his feet even before his eyes opened. He looked around, crouching beside the campfire, his stout axe raised, and saw a most unexpected visitor.
“Lady Coryn!” he gasped, as the enchantress in her glimmering white robe materialized out of the surrounding underbrush. His first feeling was of immense relief.
His second was that he was darned near naked.
With a muttered curse he dove behind the drying rack, slipping into his pants while he used the draped shirt as a dressing screen. The wizard smiled and glanced away. The two gnomes, eyes agog, stood near the hem of the woman’s robe, touching it as they reached up at her with slack-jawed amazement.
“Hey, you’re that magician who made the white smoke,” Carbo said, remembering. “Where did you come from, now?”
Her eyes met Dram’s as the dwarf’s head popped through the neck of his tunic. Still flustered, he hastened to pull a stout log up to the fire, wiping the moss and bark off as much as possible.
“Here, my lady. It’s not much, but won’t you use it for a chair?” he asked. He returned to his hummock as she thanked him and sat down.
“Why don’t you go and get some berries for the lady,” Dram suggested to the still-gaping Sulfie. “Carbo, try working your net in the stream. See if you can get us some fish, all right?”
The two gnomes hurried off, and the dwarf turned to gaze upon Coryn. He was surprised at how happy he was to see her.
“So you know about Jaymes?” he asked.
She nodded. “I come from Palanthas. The Lord Regent has just learned of his capture, and I learned about it, as well.”
“Do you know-is he still, well, safe and sound?” the dwarf wondered.
“I have not actually seen him, but it is my understanding that he is perfectly well. Though he is most certainly not safe.”
“What do you mean?”
Coryn closed her eyes and drew a breath through her nose. She looked as weary as he felt, thought the dwarf. And so terribly young. Awkwardly, he reached out a big hand and patted her on the knee. She took his hand in hers and smiled.
“You’re a good friend to him, you know that?” she said pensively.
He shrugged, embarrassed. “Well, I try to be a friend,” he said. “He’s been a good one to me. I know if someone was hauling me around in chains, he’d do what he could to get me out of there.”
“Tell me. You never talk about it. How did you meet him?” asked the white wizard.
Dram leaned forward. “I was bounty hunting in the Garnet foothills, going after goblins wherever I could find the bast-excuse me, the little runts. I was damned good at it, too. Had me over a hundred ears I was going to take to Thelgaard for the reward.
“Only thing was, I went there with my ears, and the duke’s purser said the goblins weren’t their problem anymore. I was expected to go all the way to Solanthus-a hundred miles away-and get the bounty there! Well, I sorta took offense to that, and one thing led to another, and a couple of these knights-the Crown fellows, who follow Thelgaard-got their arms or legs broke. They had me clapped in arms, sentenced to hang, when Jaymes came along and sprang me from the dungeon. Disguised himself as a Rose Knight, he did, and he made a pretty convincing show of it.”