Whitman sniffed the air. "It reeks."
"That's your upper lip," quipped Tasca.
"Swamp gas," corrected Regdar. He stopped again, peering into the interior. "How do you suppose they got in? The four of us could step tree root to tree root I suppose, but a larger group, especially one with an unwilling hostage, would want a more stable path."
"Maybe Naull went willingly," said Clemf.
Regdar turned and grabbed Clemf by his chestplate, shaking the man.
"Hey now," complained Clemf. "I'm just saying… Let's consider all the possibilities."
Regdar glared for a moment longer, then let him go. "It's not a possibility." His frustration was near the boiling point. The woman he loved might still be alive and captive. He wanted to smash something, kill those who held her hostage, punish whoever kept her from him.
But he couldn't.
He couldn't do anything except look for a needle in a haystack.
But Clemf was right. Regdar wasn't certain of anything, least of all whether Naull was even alive, and his frustration was starting to wear at the edges.
Tasca broke the silence, interrupting the tense moment. "There, just under those hanging vines." The elf pointed to a solid-looking dirt path in the dark interior of the forest, just beyond a large, murky field of water.
Clemf turned away, and Regdar looked to where Tasca pointed.
"I see it," replied the big fighter. "But they'd have to cross the water. Do you think it's shallow enough?"
"There's only one way to find out," replied the elf.
"Yes," interjected Whitman, "but what do you think lives in water like that?"
"Eels," replied Clemf. "Big ones."
Regdar turned to the tattooed human. "Why would you say that?"
Clemf pointed to the water near the far edge.
Regdar turned back. Sure enough, he saw a giant ripple move through the water, pushing away the scum in an S shape.
Whitman was already pulling a coil of rope from his pack. "I'll go first," he said matter-of-factly. "You boys tie off. If one of us falls in, the others can pull him out."
"What if a giant eel gets one of us?" asked Tasca.
"Don't worry," said Whitman with a smile. "If elf flesh tastes as bad as it smells, the eel will spit you back out again." He chuckled as he finished tying the end of the rope around his waist. "Or it'll gag you back up."
Tasca shrugged his shoulders. "He might seem offensive if he weren't short enough to fit inside my boot."
"I'm not short," hollered the dwarf, wading into the grimy water.
Tasca tied off behind Clemf, third in line. "Gets him every time." He laughed and followed the tattooed man into the swamp.
Regdar put his hand on Clemf's shoulder.
"I'm-" started Regdar.
Clemf cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry," he said. "I'd be the same way if my lady were in trouble." He gripped his friend's arm, then waded into the swamp.
Regdar took up the rear, his left hand firmly on the rope around his waist, his right gripping the hilt of his greatsword.
The water was cold, and the muck floating on top smelled like rotten goblin flesh. The bottom of the swamp was squishy, and it made forward movement quite hard. Still, despite the difficulties, the water came up only to the top of Regdar's thigh (right below Whitman's chest), and it seemed the swamp was passable after all.
Whitman made it out the other side and onto dry land without a problem. Clemf followed, then Tasca.
Regdar could feel the bottom sloping upward under his feet when something brushed the back of his leg.
Tasca opened his mouth. Regdar listened to hear what his friend had to say. It sounded like water rushing past his ears. Then Tasca's face disappeared. What was going on? he thought. Fetid swamp water rushed inside his armor, bringing with it the cold and the realization that his feet had been pulled forward from under him.
Landing on his back on the squishy bottom, Regdar looked up into blurry blackness. He reflexively tried to breathe, but the thick water quickly cut off that urge. He had swallowed some through his nose on the way down, and a burning sensation now ran down his nostrils and along the back of his throat. He managed to keep hold of his sword, but it wasn't doing him any good down here.
The creature, presumably an eel, was wrapped around his legs. It continually tightened and loosened its grip. The sensation of being squeezed then released then squeezed again was unsettling, and Regdar struggled against it.
Something squeezed him around his waist. This one was skinnier than whatever trapped his legs, but it pulled with such insistent strength that it lifted him off the bottom. The eel around his legs pulled to his right, and Regdar spun sideways.
Great, he thought, they're fighting over me.
Maneuvering his greatsword as best he could, Regdar twisted the blade and drew it across the eel's flesh. The creature's rubbery hide was tough, however, and the blade's edge slipped right off. The attack apparently angered the beast.
Regdar was yanked through the water. His head breached the surface, and his chest came up into the air. He coughed out a mouthful of foul water as he toppled over. The serpent at his feet pulled him back toward deeper water while the one around his waist pulled him forward.
Shaking the water from his face, Regdar opened his eyes in time to watch the muddy ground come up to greet him. He landed on his chest with a dull thud and a grunt. Immediately, the serpent around his legs strained to pull him back into the water.
"Pull," yelled Clemf.
Regdar looked up.
The human, the elf, and the dwarf leaned back hard on the rope attached to their waists.
Regdar looked down.
The serpent around his middle wasn't a serpent at all but a rope, now with a huge gash where he'd attacked it.
Rolling over, Regdar saw the shiny, black hide of a giant eel wrapped firmly around his legs just above his ankles. He pulled his knees to his chest and swung his sword at his feet. The magical weapon connected with serpent scales and bit deep. A gush of purplish blue blood ran onto the muddy bank.
The pulling at his waist stopped, and Clemf's huge arms wrapped around Regdar's shoulders. To his right, Whitman tumbled into view, coming up on his feet and landing a hammer blow to the back of the serpent. Tasca appeared to the left, cutting into the wound Regdar had inflicted and slicing almost all the way through the creature's body.
The eel recoiled at the assault and loosened its grip on Regdar's legs. Uncoiling, the creature's body slithered over the prone fighter, spinning around and around in a circle like the chains unwinding from a drawbridge. Finally, a pointed tail flashed through the air, and the giant eel swam off into the murky water.
Regdar relaxed his shoulders and dropped back into the mud.
"Are you all right?" Whitman stared him first in one eye, then the other.
Regdar coughed up a bit of thick, black water that dribbled from his hps. "Never better," he said with a burp. Then he rolled over and vomited.
After he finished emptying his stomach, Clemf lifted him to his feet.
"Someone's approaching," murmured Tasca in a loud whisper.
Whitman tumbled into the heavy brush beside the path.
Clemf grabbed Regdar by the back of the arm and shoved him behind a large tree.
Tasca crouched down into a squat, then jumped into the air. He caught a branch nearly three times his height off the ground. Then, swinging his feet, he lifted himself into the canopy of the tree, out of sight.
Not more than a heartbeat later, three black-clad soldiers, all wearing the same spiked scale mail as the men who attacked Duke Ramas's keep, entered the swamp from the plain, following the same path Regdar and his companions had used. Though it had been difficult for Regdar, these men made it look easy, as if they had done it many times before and had no fear of the giant eels.