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"It do fill the nooks and cra
The night was surprisingly chilly. While I was on guard, I walked around to keep warm. The air was clear, the sky studded with a wealth of stars for a change, giving me enough light to avoid tripping over my companions. I stayed on duty as long as I could keep alert, then woke A
A
But it didn't come. After a time, I lost the edge of my danger warning, but it didn't fade completely. The danger was still there, close. We settled down and waited. For an hour or more, the feeling of danger ebbed and flowed.
"There's someone out there," I whispered. "They're either trying to catch us off-guard or they're trying to screw up their courage to attack."
"This isn't the best spot to be in, I'm thinking," Lesh said. "We're in a jug, and all they've got to do is cork it." We could have gone over the top, but that would have meant leaving our horses behind, and we were much too far from Varay for that.
"We'll have to make do," I told Lesh.
"A quick charge out in the dark?" he suggested.
"Not unless we have to. But let's pack everything up."
"I don't feel magic out there," A
"Then they're smarter than the trolls in the swamp," I said. I was still having trouble with the nuances of language, even with the translation magic. It wasn't nearly as u
We made noises packing up. That must have made the difference.
I yelled, "Here they come!" as the awareness swept over me-an almost intuitive knowledge that bypassed the normal thinking processes. I had slung the claymore rig over my shoulder again while we were getting ready to leave. The claymore was the weapon I reached for, and I can't explain why. My own sword was at my waist, and I had years of practice with it. And the Smith & Wesson was within reach. But I went for that six-foot cleaver as if it were my customary weapon.
It was the proper reflex, however it came about. As I brought the elf sword over my shoulder, it bisected one of the mountain trolls jumping down from the perimeter of our hole in the wall. I hardly felt a strain. The blade went through that troll like empty air-bones and all. I don't know if it was that "strength of Vara" that initiation as Hero was supposed to confer or if it was some magic of the sword, or a combination. I just know what happened.
The blade glowed in the dark once it had tasted blood. I found myself whistling a strange melody while I wielded the sword. The third surprise was that the elf blade felt almost weightless in action.
There was something else. We were fighting in the dark, but even though I could only make out vague shapes, mostly when they moved, I knew exactly where everyone was all the time. Throughout the engagement, I was aware of positions. Lesh and Harkane were at the exit from our campsite, keeping any trolls from coming in that way. A
And I knew more. Dragon's Death wasn't leaving wounded trolls to pop up and cause trouble later. The elf sword sliced too thoroughly. We got a little more light in the cul-de-sac as the fight progressed. Blood flowing on the blade of the elf sword made it glow more brightly. That happened fairly quickly. By the time I sliced into my fifth or sixth troll, the blade was as bright as a Jedi light saber. The trolls could see me clearly enough. And I could see the trolls that came close enough for Dragon's Death to reach.
The fight went on for a few minutes more-not long, really. I heard words that I couldn't understand and can't duplicate-the first failure of the translation magic. Then a guttural voice shouted, "The elf was masked!" Those trolls who could escape did. A fair number couldn't. The glow of my elf sword faded quickly. My danger sense idled again.
"They're gone," Lesh said.
"Let's get out of here before they come back," I said.
"They won't be back," A
"I didn't, and they may discover their mistake, so let's move."
I used my flashlight to make sure we didn't forget anything. That also gave us a chance to take a better look at our attackers. They were as ugly as the swamp trolls, but not as dirty or vile-smelling. They didn't look exactly the same, but the differences could only interest another troll.
We rode north again, deeper into Xayber's lands. Just after sunrise we found a pass through the lower line of hills and turned east. Beyond the hills, the land was gently rolling, tall grass with occasional wooded stretches. These trees actually looked fairly normal-not the haunted-forest type of trees we had seen farther south along the isthmus. We rode from one copse of trees to the next, worrying more about cover than roads or speed. We stopped once when I felt that unseen presence probing again. It passed, then returned and passed again, more slowly the second time.
"He's closing in," I muttered. It had to be the Elflord of Xayber. I couldn't hope to evade him forever. The others looked at me. Nobody questioned my awareness of someone searching for us with magic. My companions took my magic sense more for granted than I did.
"If we can't find somewhere to strike at the Elflord today, we head back to Varay," I said. "The deeper we get, the harder it'll be to get out in time to meet the Etevar's army, and right now, he's a greater threat to Varay than Xayber." I stared at A
We found our target before noon. We came through a wooded draw between two low hills and saw a riot of bright colors a half mile off.
"Pull up," I said, turning my horse as I spoke. We moved back around the side of one of the hills, away from the bright colors, out of sight. "Let's climb the hill for a better look." We dismounted and led our horses partway up the gentle slope. Lesh and Harkane stayed well below the crest with the animals. A
"Tents, pavilions, six in all," she reported slowly. "People. It looks like some sort of picnic outing."
"A picnic, nor a war party?" I asked.
"Not a war party with women in party gowns."