The three of them made good time then, because the trail wasn’t all that hard to follow. That night, Garth and Tully took turns leading the horses on foot by lantern light. The next morning, they learned just how close they were to catching their quarry, when they came upon a newly deserted camp. They started stalking then, gaining on the squire slowly. The Duke decided to wait until the boy made camp that night. They would take him in his sleep. They learned from the tracks at the camp that there were two men. Duke Fairchild hoped that it was the squire and the conspirator that Lord Brach and King Glendar wanted to learn more about.
Thoughts of praise and grandeur carried the Duke through the long day, but he was never distracted from the scent of his prey. He felt certain that the gods had led him to this very moment in time. A place where he could do what he loved to do, while raising his standing with his liege lord, and gaining the favor of the new King of Westland. He had no doubts that when the boy and his companion finally bedded down for the night, he and his men would overtake them; but as nightfall came and the darkness deepened, he began to wonder.
They dared not light the lantern. They were too close now. The Duke didn’t want to spook his quarry. Knowing that the squire couldn’t move any faster through the darkness than they could, they pressed on. Fairchild had Tully dismount and lead them on foot. The Duke was still reveling in the greatness this capture would bring him, when Tully stopped, and bent down to retrieve something shiny he saw on the ground. The horrible, primal yell the man made when the iron jaws of Loudin’s trap snapped shut on his arm, carried a long way through the forest night.
The bone chilling scream frightened every living thing to silence, but the sound that threatened to scare the trees up out of their roots was the low, menacing growl of rage, that rose up from deep inside of the Coldfrost Butcher.
Chapter 15
Hyden hovered over Little Condlin’s wounded body to shield him from the arrows that were still raining down on them. As strange as it seemed, the three elves formed a protective ring around them as well. One of the elves voiced his displeasure at the deed, but complied with his peers anyway. Condlin’s squirming struggle underneath him let Hyden know that his cousin was still alive.
Talon had narrowly missed being crushed when Hyden had dived on Little Condlin. He was trying to fly away from the mayhem, but his untrained wing muscles weren’t cooperating with his will. He was half flapping, half hopping his way across the turf. Yells and screams, and the sound of battle, could be heard breaking out all around them. The sound of steel clashing on steel and wood was unmistakable, even to Hyden, who had never so much as touched a sword, save for one in an armory shop along the Ways.
“The arrows have stopped,” the elven archer with the blood streaked face said, as he knelt down to look at Little Condlin’s wounds. Hyden would’ve tried to stop the yellow eyed creature from touching his cousin, but the elf’s tone, and the gentleness of his movements, belayed his objection.
Hyden glanced around them. His father, and Uncle Condlin, were both charging toward him. Anger and fear showed plainly in their eyes. Beyond them, Hyden could see Little Condlin’s mother on her knees with her face in her hands. In the last few weeks, she had lost one son and seen another crippled. Hyden couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling, after seeing another one of her children being struck by an arrow. It appeared as if the Redwolf soldiers were torn between joining the growing battle around them, and protecting those few who were still on the tournament grounds unarmed. There were enough of them present on the archery range that the attackers, and the other angry people seemed weary, and were staying away from that particular area.
Hyden felt it in his blood, like a gritty tingle, before he saw the elf’s magic working. It was such a sudden and powerful thing, that he was drawn to it reflexively. The elf had opened the top of Little Condlin’s shirt, and was pulling the arrow slowly out of him with one hand. The other hand was making a slow, circular motion over the boy’s chest. A place, deep inside the child’s skin, was glowing a reddish orange color. The glow moved along the arrow’s path, out towards where the shaft protruded from his collar. They eventually could see that it was the arrow’s sharpened steel tip that was glowing, and it was still glowing when it came free of the flesh.
Harrap and Uncle Condlin shouldered their way into the huddle forcefully. Talon was nearly crushed, and went hop flapping into Hyden’s lap for protection. Little Condlin was staring with a wide eyed, terror-filled grin, and looking up at the elf that had just magicked him.