Alarmed, Rone grabbed the rigging of the old horse, pulling the wagon and tugged hard, issuing a sharp command to bring it to a stop.
He shouted for Trish as he climbed into the seat of the wagon and checked to see if the girl was still alive. Thankfully she was only unconscious. He didn’t bother checking on the man in the back of the wagon as the half dozen arrows in his chest left no doubt, he was dead.
Instead, with Traijen's help, he gently lowered the woman to the ground and waited as Trish used her born ability to heal with the sun’s rays. Within moments, the wound on the dark-elf girls’ cheek had become no more than a scar, and the bruising on her arms and face had vanished completely. Rone smiled as her eyes fluttered open.
Upon seeing her rescuers, the girl leaped from the ground in a defensive stance, drawing the small hunting dagger from her waist she held it out before her menacingly.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked fearfully.
“Easy,” Roan said, holding his hands up to show they were empty.
“I’m Rone, and these are my friends, Trisha and Traijen. We only wished to help.” The woman eyed them suspiciously for a moment but then lowered her dagger and leaned back against the side of the wagon.
“I’m Katrina, but everyone calls me Kat.” The woman said, touching the side of her face, her finger tracing the line where the cut had been and feeling the long scar that it had become.
“Sorry, I did the best I could, I’m a mage, not a healer,” Trisha said regretfully.
Kat rubbed her cheek again then nodded,
“I’m just glad you came along, better a scar than to end up like poor Demetri, there,” she said, looking at the man in the wagon. Roan nodded his agreement, then asked what happened.
“Strange to see a DokalFae on this road, at least one that’s not dressed as a mercenary or raider,” Rone said a little more suspiciously than he had planned.
“Well, I’m neither, I am a merchants apprentice, or I was, until them damn brigands killed Dimitri.”
Traijen always the suspicious type looked over into the wagon and back at Katrina.
“Strange, there are no wares in your wagon. What exactly were you a merchant of?” Katrina flashed him an angry look but answered his question anyway.
“Mostly pottery and trinkets, Dimitri tossed everything to lighten the load. That old nag he has pulling the wagon could barely run at all, especially with it loaded.
“How far back did this happen?” Roan asked,
“The last thing we need is a bunch of bandits slowing us down.”
“I’m not sure,” Kat said, looking around.
“Where are we exactly?
“The merchant road between Crag Moor and Dusk Haven,” Rone replied.
“Dusk Haven? I guess that nag could run further than I thought. We were ambushed west of here outside Alderman village.” Roan and Traijen exchanged astonished looks before turning back to Kat.
“Well, we shouldn’t have any trouble with the bandits then, that’s at least eight leagues away. I’m glad you’re safe, but we have to get going.” Traijen said as Rone nodded and climbed back into his saddle. He whistled for Fang, who had blinked into the nearby tree line earlier and started to move away.
“Wait, are you going to Dusk Haven?” Kat asked excitedly.
“Yes, we are on a quest,” Traijen said proudly, only to clamp his mouth shut in embarrassment at the angry glance Rone shot him.
“Sorry, sorry, I know it’s supposed to be a secret.” Trisha sighed and shook her head.
“Could I maybe travel with you to the city then? I’ve lost my wares, my supplies, and my teacher.” Rone wasn’t sure he should agree, but the distressed look on her face softened his resolve, and he nodded his agreement.
“I can’t promise you will like the reception there, but you can come that far with us if you like,” Rone said with a smile as he and Traijen climbed down to help bury the man in the wagon. Afterward, Rone examined the old horse pulling the wagon.
“Going to be hard to keep pace with this mount, the run from the bandits has lamed one of its legs. Might as well set it free and ride with me.” Katrina stroked the neck of the old horse and whispered a thank you in its ear for saving her life, then removed the riggings and let the old horse wander free.
Rone climbed into his saddle and slid forward, offering a hand to help her up behind him. Even as she leaned close, rising into the saddle, neither Rone nor his companions noticed the constant shimmer running across the face of the gem embedded in the broach she wore. A sure sign it held some sort of enchantment.
From the darkened doorway of the ruins atop Grey Ridge, Zannith Daltorea smiled a most wicked grin.
“I judge from your smile your apprentice found her way to the HoloFae?” Gru’Nak asked, sounding almost agitated.
“She did indeed,” Zannith replied as he stared at the churning water inside the silver bowl he held. Studying with great interest, the faces of Rone and his companions.
“Though it was despite your Orcs not because of them. She was to be convincing, not wounded.” Zannith said, whirling angrily to face the big Orc.
“Hmph, one of my warriors must have slipped,” Gru’Nak said, barely hiding his grin.
Zannith’s hand came up in front of his face with the palm turned towards the ceiling, quickly blowing on it as if it held a feather. The gesture released a needle-sized dart of magic that soared through the air with the speed of an arrow. Slicing the side of the Orcs face and causing him to grab his cheek.
“Oh, I must have slipped,” Zannith said with a wicked grin.
“I tire of your game mage. In fact, I like this whole arrangement less every day.” The big Orc growled as he wiped the blood from his cheek.
“You don’t have to like it. You simply have to do it,” Zannith said as he whirled and walked deeper into the ruins.
The big Orc needing some space himself walked out and stood to stare into the forest below, lost in his own angry thoughts, he failed to notice the shadow that was perched in the highest branches of the once beautiful willow tree in the center of the courtyard.
From this spot, Allister De’Lenard smiled quietly to himself. It seems he has found the weak link he needed, now to learn what the exiled prince has planned and the identity of the HoloFae he is using.
19
Inside the Agnar forest, the wilt and decay of the Chimera poison were becoming more evident almost daily. Reports were already coming in of sick villagers and travelers spotting ill or dying animals on the roads through the forest.
Tobias Longbranch stood on the porch of the main house and looked out across Briarthorn village. The anger he felt at the loss of Maximillian was only compounded by their failing efforts to save the forest.
He was still standing there when Decker and the cleric known as Kelenvor came up to him.
“Tobias, me and Kel have been talking, we may have a way to help the villagers of Agnar.”
“Kel, is it? I see you two have made friends quick.” Shocked by his sarcasm, Decker grew angry.
“What difference does that make Tobias? We are all working towards the same thing, to help Agnar and its people. Or did you forget what being a Thorn Caller meant?”
Tobias flushed red with anger at Decker’s words. How dare him to question his conviction to the Thorn Callers’. Tobias reached for his sword, but the sharp look on Decker’s face made him think twice. He may be in command now, but he was no match for the sword master’s skill at combat.