Excerpt



Finding she could not relax enough to fall asleep, Catre Nightshade rolled from her warm bedding and stood. Instantly, the cold air sent a depressing chill all the way down her willowy frame. She hurriedly added several logs to the smoldering fire and was relieved when they finally ignited. Even so, the rekindled flames had no effect on the main cause of her shivering.

For much of the day, she and her sister, Hark, had tended the wounded. Despite their diligent efforts to ease the suffering, too many patients achieved only a temporary stay from their suffering. In the end, a score of Dwarves succumbed to the wounds. Among the victims were Tempest Stoutframe, the king, and his courageous brother, Thrall. This tally might have been significant higher had the dreadful Werebe not been driven off by the magnificent Steed and its determined rider.

Again, Catre shivered in recalling the horror of the morning and the subsequent heroics.

Never had she seen beasts so intent on slaying whoever was in their way, regardless of their own vulnerability. Utterly relentless in their aggression, the Timbersnarls simply ignored the swords and spears swung at them. Finally, their own blood flowed too freely to continue. But even as the Darkness dimmed their Lights, the Snarls had lashed out at the nearest soldier in hopes of inflicting yet another wound.

Deciding she did not care to dwell on the horrific battle any further, Catre wrapped her coat against the chill and walked away from the fire. She weaved her way between the various bodies sleeping nearby and approached a solitary figure standing upright against the night. It whinnied softly as she neared but made no effort to move away. Hesitating only briefly, she reached up to pat its forehead.

The Steed responded by lowering itself to the ground in order to make itself more accessible. Stroking its fine hairs gradually allowed a release from her anxieties. As the days terrors eased from her thoughts, she closed her eyes and rested her head against its hide. She might have fallen asleep had a voice not sounded behind her.

"A wondrous beast, is it not?"

"Verily, it is," Catre answered. "I did not hear your approach. You are Kee Redheart, are you not?"

"Yes," the Elf answered. "And you are?"

"Catre Nightshade. I am grateful you came when you did. There is no telling what would have happened had Tempest led his soldiers against us. Your appearance caused them to engage the Timbersnarls instead."

"Given how many were injured or Faded as a result, do you think the Dwarves hold me responsible for bringing the beasts into their midst? I had no intention of involving them in my flight. Although in rounding the point and sighting the soldiers, I briefly held out hope the armys size would discourage the Snarls.

"I think Thurgood Rocksalt understands the situation. He is the leader of the Golden Caverns now, or at least he should be with the Fading of Thrall and King Tempest. Think no more of it. What is done cannot be changed. We must hope better days lie in wait. This mornings bloodshed will fade from our dreams eventually."

Kee sadly shook her head.

She did not share Catre's optimism. Too well she knew the terror spreading its violence across the land. No matter how horrific this battle felt to the ones involved, it was but one part of the brutality taking place all over Chardon. Until a way was found to rid the land of the Evil being spawned by the dark Magic, havoc and destruction would be the norm rather than the exception.

"I fear your youth blinds you to the truth, Catre," she said. "This morning is only a portent of the horror to come. I do not know what reasons carried you here, but you would be wise to flee while you can. No one is safe from Cojartim the Beast or his terrible army. Better to retrace your steps now than continue onto Home, as is your intent from what I learned during the day. There is no guarantee you will be safe there. But as my friends are within its walls already, I can only hope the war passes them by. And you as well."

"I heard you knew of Home," Catre answered. "If time permits I would like to learn more about it."

"You are the second to make this request."

"Who was first?"

"The tall companion of yours named Loren Sojourner," Kee responded. "His name suggests we share an ancestral link. Unfortunately, we exchanged only a few hurried words before he was called elsewhere. Still, what he said intrigues me. Loren seems to have knowledge of my journey. How he came by it, I do not know. Even so, had my friend Ollm escaped injury, I probably would have left by now. My concerns dictate I continue my flight without delay."

"Where will you go?"

"I do not know. The Evered Forest is the logical choice, yet I feel my future lies elsewhere. I do not know how the tall Elves would greet my return."

"It is a shame Elfmaster Fovom is not here to reassure you. Only recently did he leave us to rejoin his Elves. His word can be trusted, of this I am sure."

"You have met the Elfmaster?"

"Oh, yes," Catre responded with a nod of her head. "Elfmaster Fovom was in the Golden Caverns when we arrived. Again, I believe he would welcome you to his Forest, especially given how well you fight. If King Tempest had listened to his and Lorens warning of dire times to come, much grief would have been avoided."

"Not avoided, Catre, only delayed. Come. Let us return to the fire. The night is cold and your eyes are weary. We will speak again. Should you wish, perhaps time might be found for you to ride my Steed. It seems to mind you better than it does me. Such a panic I had trying to capture it."

"I would not dare mount its back," Catre answered. "What if I fell?"

"Ha! If Ollm can ride the Steed, anyone can. Do not worry. I will be there lending what help I can."