T Lain - City of Fire

Green, Naull thought, but Early’s actions reminded her she had work to do, too. She did a quick inventory of her spell pouches and sighed. She still had everything she needed to cast her remaining spells, but her “big bangs” were gone, used up in the ambush that afternoon. Her web spell had snared most of the orcs at one swoop—all but their leader, who sacrificed his troops to make his own escape. They were tracking that lone orc through the darkening woods, hoping it would lead them to its lair, what remained of the raiding party, and their spoils.

Scanning the woods, Naull tried to locate Ian and Regdar. She found them both quickly. Regdar, the burly fighter who led the group, was easy to spot in his plate armor. He stood almost motionless over Ian.

The half-elf, on the other hand, was an enigma. Except for his chosen vocation—his woodcraft spoke to his part-elven background—he didn’t act like any half-elf she’d heard about or met before. An abrasive mercenary by his own admission, the slight, short man still had a compelling, almost intense, nature. Even his name was strange. Elves, in Naull’s limited experience, usually had longer, more sing-song names. “Ian” seemed too plain, somehow.

Ian’s light hair and white skin, however, went along with Naull’s image of elves. The fact that his clothes somehow stayed inexplicably clean as he searched the dark ground for tracks fit, too. His sharp, ice-blue eyes pierced the darkness and turned toward Naull. He’d sensed her staring at him, she knew suddenly, and he held her gaze for a moment, then turned back to his work.

It never crossed her mind that Ian wouldn’t find the tracks, even in the dark, even after the brief rain shower, and that proved a good instinct. After only a few minutes, the ranger stood up again and motioned the party in.

“He’s gotten away,” Ian said flatly. Early cursed, but Regdar waited and watched the half-elf pause. “Or so he thinks.”

A rare smile graced the ranger’s features, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. The smile was that of a hunter who enjoyed the kill and who knew his quarry had been run to ground.

“I wanted to make sure he hadn’t gotten clever, but I’m convinced he thinks we’re still back at the ambush site, picking through the wagons and his fellows’ gear. It’s what he’d be doing, probably.” Nothing disguised the disdain in Ian’s voice. But the half-elf grew professional again, turned toward a nearby slope, and said, “He paused here and looked around. He didn’t hear us coming.” A sharp look made Early blush, but Ian continued, “and he couldn’t see us. We were just far enough behind to make him feel confident, so he headed down there.”

“Back toward the path?” Trebba asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “The path probably leads right up near their lair. Nobody comes this deep into these woods anymore,” he added. “They didn’t have to hide.”

Regdar nodded and asked, “Should we go back to the path, or do you want to follow him directly?”

“The orcs obviously didn’t think they’d be followed far into the forest. We found the path after only, what, two days of looking?” Ian continued, not waiting for confirmation. “They stayed careful until they got into the woods, but then they relaxed. I’m guessing they got sloppier the nearer they got to home.”

“So we should go back to the path,” Early drawled confidently, “find ’em quick, and kick some orc tail. Heat up the oven ’cause we’ll be back for breakfast.”

He patted his long sword and grinned.

“Well,” the half-elf drawled, mocking the farm boy’s accent until Regdar’s sharp glance cowed the ranger. “If we go back onto the path, we’ll almost certainly find the orcs’ lair—and probably quicker than if we follow the tracks of a single orc through the forest at night, in this drizzle, but then we’d be coming at them from where they expect. As I’ve already said, this one we’re tracking thinks he fooled us. If we go back, we’re doing what he expects—and night is orc time.”

“So what?” Early asked, a tiny bit of belligerence creeping into his voice. “There’s just the one o’ him left. We already killed over a half-dozen orcs in the ambush. If you’re thinkin’ about Yurgen, well, I’m sorry he’s dead, too, but he did a foolish thing, charging into the woods alone after this brute. If he’d done like Regdar told him, he’d still be alive. I don’t care how tough this orc is, I’m bettin’ the five of us can take one more.”

As Ian opened his mouth for a scathing reply, he found it hard to talk with two hundred and fifty plus pounds of plate-armored human standing on his toe. The half-elf gasped and Regdar stepped back.

“But consider this, Early,” Regdar said as if nothing had happened, “there may be more than just the one we’re tracking.”

“There certainly will be,” Ian grumbled, flexing his mashed toes. “They’ve been operating out of that lair for a month now. This isn’t just a hit-and-run raiding party. I’d guess that at least a couple of warriors stayed behind to guard the other loot, plus whatever others tagged along—young and such. They could still be strong enough to cause us some trouble if they catch us by surprise, or if we just stumble into their midst in the dark.” Ian waved back toward the ambush site, several miles behind them and grinned. “Remember how well it worked for us.”

Early nodded in understanding and grinned back. Naull looked between the two of them, thinking perhaps the half-elf wasn’t as cold as he seemed, and the farm boy wasn’t as dumb as he acted.

We all put on our little shows, she thought.

“Hey, Naull,” Regdar asked. “What about you? What’s our wizard got?”

“Well…” she started, fingers automatically going to her component pouches, even though she’d just sorted them out moments before, “not a lot. Don’t worry about light. I can take care of that in a hurry, when we need it. And I might be able to distract one or two with some sounds.”

“What about the big stuff?” Early asked impatiently.

She realized suddenly that her web spell may have been the most magic he’d ever seen. A lot of country folk had clerics to tend to their ills, but wizards preferred the city life. Books didn’t grow on trees, after all.

She chuckled at her inadvertent joke. Early took it to mean she had something nasty prepared and he nodded.

“Got it. You don’t wanna spoil the surprise. No problem.”

He gave her a thumbs up and started off. Ian and Trebba already followed the orc’s tracks, but Regdar hung back.

“Seriously, Naull,” he asked in a low voice, “what do you have left?”

She sighed, “Well, I’ve got another magic missile, but everything else is pretty defensive. Not everybody can walk around in their own private golem, you know.” She slugged his armored side in an attempt at playfulness and was rewarded with a dull clang. “Ow!” As she pretended to suck her knuckles in pain, Regdar grinned.

“Can’t blame you for that. I wish we had a healer with us,” Regdar sighed. He pulled off one of his gauntlets and put his hand on her back, gently guiding her over and around the underbrush as they walked. “It wouldn’t have done Yurgen any good, but…”

He went quiet as the two of them followed the rest of the party.

“You couldn’t have stopped him, Regdar,” she said. She reached around and gave his bare hand a squeeze. “He shouldn’t have done what he did, but he died fighting.”

“That’s the best we can hope for, I suppose,” Regdar said.

“Not me! I’m going to die in a big bed at the top of my own wizard’s tower, surrounded by dozens of spellbooks and served by hundreds of apprentices!” She smiled lazily and winked. “Maybe you can be captain of my guard, if you play your cards right.”