The Fall of Dorkhun (8 page)

“Save your energy,” the leader said, staggering to his feet. “It’s time to practice.”

***

Leinjar stared south as the wagon wound up the mountain road. He hadn’t thought about his children in many years. After a few years in the cage, he had found it easier to pretend he had never lived anywhere else, and after several more years, he had convinced himself it was the truth. If they had survived, they would be close to adulthood. He imagined them as strong, young warriors, and the thought comforted him. He took a deep breath and savored the air of the western mountains. Even though these weren’t his mountains, he was glad to be back in dwarven lands.

Chapter 5

An Unexpected Ally

Suvene awoke with a start and almost fell from his branch. The moonlight shone through the trees, illuminating more than he expected, and the shadows around him danced from a light breeze. He reached for his daggers, but they weren’t where he had left them. Then, he grabbed for his pike, but it was missing, too. He looked down and saw all three weapons on the forest floor, reflecting moonlight. His heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught in his throat. If he dropped from the branch, he might be able to grab them before the predator got him, but the drop was far and the slope was steep. There was no telling if he might twist his ankle or worse.

“Why do you look so scared?” a soft voice asked from the darkness.

Suvene held as still as he could. Whatever this creature was, it knew the civilized tongue, and though the voice seemed gentle, he knew from the marshes that predators often lured prey with such ruses.

“You’re far from home, aren’t you?”

This time, Suvene located the voice came, and it was in a branch above him. He scanned the ground for a soft place to land and readied himself to roll off the branch.

“Do I scare you?”

The creature sounded as if its feelings were hurt, and something about the tone stopped him.

“Yes,” he said, taken aback by his honesty.

“Why?”

“I want to finish my mission.”

“What’s your mission?”

“I’m tracking a villain,” he said, still focusing on the ground, but he was no longer contemplating going for his weapons.

“You look hungry,” the voice said maternally.

Suvene clutched the branch and turned himself over. Above him, in the branch where he had tied his pike, a female elf sat just out of his reach. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen her before. In his life, he had never thought of an elf as pretty, but there was no denying this one was beautiful. Her black hair was streaked with silver, and her features were both delicate and sharp. In the moonlight, her eyes danced with playful mischief.

“I am,” he managed, peering into her eyes.

She reached into a small pouch and produced a handful of nuts. Gently, she extended her hand, and cautiously, Suvene held up his hand to receive them. Their fingertips brushed against each other. Electricity shot through his arm at her touch, and he had never known any feeling like it. He lowered his eyes and mumbled thanks.

“You’ve not slowed down much to find food,” she said.

“Why have you been tracking me?” he asked before tossing several nuts into his mouth. They tasted more rich and hearty than the finest piece of meat he had ever eaten.

“You’re on my mountain,” she said, giggling as if his question were absurd.

“I’m sorry,” he said between bites.

She shrugged and returned, “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Suvene stared at her, puzzled.

“We don’t get many orcs in these mountains,” she continued. “And there are dangerous creatures you don’t want to meet alone.”

“What sort of creatures?”

“Too terrible to talk about,” she whispered, leaning closer. “But I’ve been watching. There aren’t any close.”

Suvene glanced around the forest. In the moonlight, he imagined all sorts of strange beasts lurking in the shadows.

“My home is close. Would you like a warm meal?”

“Yes,” he said, wanting out of the darkness.

“Follow me,” she said, standing on her branch. “My father is expecting us.”

Effortlessly, she stepped from the branch and caught the one on which Suvene sat and then dropped. She landed without a noise and looked up. Suvene gripped the branch and rolled until his body was dangling. Then, he let go and fell. He landed with a thud and rolled backwards, sliding a short distance down the incline. The elf laughed as he got to his feet.

“You’re funny,” she said.

“I’m okay,” he snapped. “Thanks for asking.”

“Come. This way.”

Suvene grabbed his weapons and hurried after her. She moved silently, gliding through the underbrush as if it were mist. Suvene had to strain his eyes to keep her in sight, and he nearly had to run to keep her pace. After a few minutes, he was coated in sweat and panting. Finally, she stopped at the base of an ancient oak, its base over twice as wide as the one in which he’d slept. She made a sound like a nightingale and was answered by a hooting owl. She called again and a rope ladder was dropped. She motioned for Suvene to climb, and for a heartbeat, he hesitated, wondering if this night would be his last, but then she smiled softly, a look that melted his fears. He slid the daggers into his belt, refashioned the pike to his back, grabbed the ladder, and climbed.

The ladder reached high into the tree, passing dozens of thick branches, and when he reached the end, a slender but muscular arm reached out to him. Still gripping the ladder with his left arm, he extended his right and grasped the offering. He was lifted onto a small platform and stood face to face with a male Loorish elf whose eyes ached with the sorrow of ages. Furrowing his brow, the elf stared at him, an expression somewhere between curiosity and hatred. Suvene looked away, suddenly unsure of his decision to climb up.

Without a sound, the female appeared on the platform, rising from the ladder without assistance. Once she was there, the male turned a small handle and wound up the ladder. The female stood between them, facing the male, and Suvene had never felt more out of place. He had been foolish to follow her, and now, there was no telling what horrors he would face. The female must have sensed his fear, for she turned to him and smiled.

“This is my father,” she said, her eyes gleaming. Suvene melted again.

“Let’s get inside,” her father said sharply.

He turned around and lifted a dark curtain, then stepped from that platform onto another. His daughter took Suvene’s hand, warning him to watch his step, and followed her father. The new platform was built in a ring around the tree, extending fifteen feet out. A solid rail four feet high surrounded the platform and had branches fastened to it from lower limbs. The branches were alive and well-pruned, and even in the darkness, Suvene saw they offered good camouflage. On the floor of the platform, various herbs and flowers grew in pots of all sizes, and their aromas mixing in the cool air was pleasant and relaxing. The father reached a doorway covered by another dark curtain, stopped, and turned to Suvene.

“Leave those here,” he said, pointing with one hand at the daggers and then the pike and a small table against the base of the tree with the other.

Suvene hesitated but then relented. Once the daggers were placed on the table and the pike was balanced against the trunk, the father went through the curtain inside. The daughter smiled at Suvene again and then moved after her father. The young orc, still hungry despite the handful of nuts, braced himself and followed.

Inside, the room was lighted by several candles, and the lights danced and leapt from the curtain’s movements, casting strange shadows. The father went to the far end where a modest iron stove sat away from the tree trunk and the wooden walls. Suvene marveled at the effort it must’ve taken to hoist even that stove this high into the tree. The father stirred a pot, and to the starving orc, the smell was as intoxicating as the daughter’s eyes.

“Have a seat,” she said, motioning to one of the two chairs.

Suvene sat on the modest chair. It had been fashioned from branches woven together, and the seat and back were covered in cloth stuffed with feathers. The chair reminded Suvene of a bird’s nest, but as he settled, it was quite comfortable. He thanked his hosts, and the father grumbled a reply. The daughter went to another area and poured water from a bucket suspended from a branch that ran across the room and held up that section of ceiling. She glided back across the room and held out the wooden cup to Suvene. Reaching for it, he caught her eye and quickly glanced down. He took a sip, and the water was cool and refreshing after following her along the mountainside and climbing the ladder. The father strode across the room and handed him a wooden bowl of soup.

“It’s meager, but it’s what we have,” he said, a hint of shame in his voice.

“It smells wonderful,” Suvene returned, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon.

He lifted a bite that steamed in the night air, so he blew on it. Thick chunks of onion, tomato, celery, herbs, and spices lay on the spoon. Suvene looked closer in the bowl for meat but saw none. He touched the spoon to his lip to test it and, satisfied that it wouldn’t burn his tongue, ate. Much like the nuts, he had never tasted such delicious vegetables. He took another bite and then another, and before he knew it, the bowl was empty.

“More?” the father asked, his brow unfurrowing for the first time since Suvene had made it to the platform.

“Please,” Suvene responded.

“We grow our own vegetables higher up in the tree,” the father said, dishing out more into the bowl. “The sun is good up there. Alysea gathers nuts and mushrooms from the forest. She’s got a good eye.”

“Daddy taught me,” she said.

“Please, forgive me,” the father said, returning to Suvene with the second bowl. “We don’t get many visitors, and I completely forgot my manners. I am Stahloor, and this, of course, is Alysea.”

“I’m Suvene.”

The father poured himself and Alysea cups of water and then sat in the other chair. She sat cross-legged in the floor, facing them. Suvene offered her his seat, but she declined, saying that she preferred the floor most of time. Suvene ate the second bowl of soup as quickly as the first, and for the first time in several days his stomach was full.

“I’m gonna tell you what I already know,” Stahloor said. “Then, I want you to tell me what I don’t.”

“Okay,” Suvene said, running his finger around the bowl to scrape up a few more onions that had stuck.

“First, an orc alone this far north is in some kind of trouble. Your people do not leave home alone often. Second, by the look of you, you’ve been on the run for more than a couple of weeks. More like a couple of months. Finally, you are a soldier by trade. These things I know. Now, why are you on the run?”

“I’m tracking down someone,” Suvene said, staring at the elf. “Before I answer another question, I want to ask one.”

“Fair enough.”

“How does a wild wood-br...uh...elf know the civilized tongue?”

“I was born a slave. I speak orcish better than elfish, so I also taught my daughter. My turn. Why are you alone?”

“I caught him among the Marshwoggs, but he tricked me and got away. My people do not treat failure lightly, so I fled to find him and redeem myself.”

“Curious. Where do you think he’s gone?”

“My guess is to the dwarven lands in the west. My turn. If you’re a freed slave, why are you feeding me?”

“Good question,” Stahloor said, laughing to himself. “My daughter has a good heart.”

“I don’t understand,” Suvene said, glancing at her.

“We were at the base of the mountains a few days ago and saw you,” Stahloor continued. “I wanted to let whatever was to happen happen, but Alysea was worried about you. She was born free and has never known your kind. I’ve taught her to respect life, all life. That’s why we don’t eat meat. She reminded me that you’re a living creature, too, and as such, we have a duty to protect you while you’re on our mountain. It seems I’ve taught her too well.”

“Don’t let Daddy fool you,” she said, grinning at her father. “He has a good heart.”

“But I have no love for your people,” Stahloor said. “You have tormented too many of my kin.”