They continued at a faster pace. Obran knew Tori was right; dark elves would likely avoid towns and villages so they needed to get to Narnia as quickly as possible. They rode into the evening and Obran handed out cakes to everyone. They only stopped the carriage after a few hours when they could see the distant lights of Narnia. It would soon be nighttime so Obran decided they’d split up and he and Erkin would wait for Katrina. Luckily, Mara had not seen any elves or soldiers in all her scouting missions.
“Just bribe the guards if they make a fuss about letting you in so late,” Obran said.
“Sure...I got plenty of experience there,” Zico said.
“Soldiers might be waiting for us,” Tori said.
“I know but we’ll risk it,” Obran said.
Better Romans then elves, Obran thought.
“Me and Erkin can camp out with Katrina. You four go to any inn after Mara scouts the city,” Obran said.
Obran didn’t like separating but such a diverse group together would draw attention. Mara returned from her scouting mission and flew to Zico's side.
“I didn’t see the human from last night, only the guards at the gate and more in the inner fortress.”
It was almost dark; they’d have to hurry before the gates closed. There was no traffic now and they would probably be the last one arriving to Narnia. Obran was about to tell them to go when he spotted the wolves racing towards them, three of them. They came from the nearby forest to the west, a good hiding spot with cover where Mara had not see them. The wolves were running towards them at full speed.
“Wolves! Everyone in the wagon!” Obran yelled.
“It has to be the elves,” Obran thought.
Wolves wouldn't attack so brazenly but elves had the ability to influence and control animals and sometimes even the humanoid races as well. Zico, Tomas, and Erkin rushed to get inside the carriage as Mara took off to see the danger.
“Hurry, Torri,” Obran said.
Tori was already climbing the wagon to get into position to use her bow. Obran followed and pulled his crossbow off his back but he didn’t make it; as he climbed the carriage a wolf jumped up and knocked him down. He hit the ground hard and the wolf quickly turned and charged again. Obran instinctively put up his left hand and the wolf’s jaws clamped down on his arm. Thankfully, he was wearing leather gauntlets so the wolf’s teeth failed to penetrate his skin and he felt more pressure than pain. The wolf shook and twisted trying to tear into his flesh as Obran reached for his gladius. He was about to stab the wolf when an arrow struck the animal deep in its shoulder and pierced its heart. The wolf went down and began to convulse on the ground. But as it lay dying, Obran saw another wolf charging and he guessed the elves couldn’t be far behind.
“Shoot the elves!” Obran yelled.
Obran grabbed the crossbow he'd dropped and climbed on top of the wagon as the second wolf just missed him. Tori let loose another arrow before a stone hit her on the chest knocking her down—she was barely able to stay on top of the wagon. Obran reached out to pull her up as he tried to see where the stone came from. They’re using slings and are probably out of range of my crossbow, he thought.
“Get to cover,” Obran said.
Tori let go and jumped down off the wagon while ducked down and Obran loaded his crossbow; he aimed at the other wolf but it was the last thing he saw before a stone hit him on the head.
***
Obran slowly opened his eyes; his hands and feet were both bound and he had been placed against a wagon wheel. At least I’m not hooded or gagged, he thought. We still might have a chance. A sharp pain pierced his left temple and he felt dried blood on his face. But Obran knew whoever hit him didn’t want to kill him, just stun him, since a full force impact from a sling stone would have cracked his skull wide open. Obran hadn’t been wearing a helmet...Careless and stupid, he thought. He felt dizzy but quickly began to regain his senses. Tori was sitting a few feet away, leaning on another wagon with her hands tied as well. Tomas, Zico, and Erkin were sitting with their backs against each other in a circle and were also tied up; Tomas’ nose was bleeding but his brother and Erkin looked fine if only scared. He didn’t see any sign of Katrina or Mara.
Two elves sat in front of a fire. Tori saw that he was awake and spoke in a whisper, “Obran, thank the gods. Are you alright? I thought you might not wake up.”
Obran heard another elf inside their wagon; the elf was going through their things. He would find their weapons, some gold and silver, along with some food, wine, and olive oil, but Obran had hidden Stripe’s package in a secret compartment underneath the wagon. But did that even matter now?
“I’ll be okay,” Obran said. “What happened?”
“A wolf jumped on me; it used its body to pin me down until the elves got here; I still managed to stab and kill that wolf but there's one me. There are three elves too,” Tori said.
Three elves…The last remaining wolf, a large gray male, was laying down next to his dead wolf companion, perhaps his mate. Now it rose and approached Obran, baring its teeth and growling. It had a glossy look in its eyes as if it was being controlled. As it neared Obran, an elf uttered a command in elvish and the wolf sat down in front of Obran, guarding him closely.
“Don’t cause any trouble gremlin or I’ll let the wolf loose on your companions,” the elf said.
It was the same elf who had approached them before; he spoke with the same hiss and had the same white hair and white skin. By his tone and stature Obran guessed he was in charge. Another elf sat next to him with an arrow sticking out of his left shoulder, inches above his heart.
“We should just kill these three; they are useless,” the wounded elf said in the common tongue and he stared at Obran.
“I will make that decision,” the lead elf responded in the elvish. “However, for the loss to your family I will give you the other gremlin.”
Obran glanced at Tori and knew she understood the elves too. Tori had told Obran she’d learned the elvish language, along with Greek, Latin, and Phoenician too. Obran also told her that gremlins had an intuitive sense for languages as well, same as they did with tools and machinery. And that during the war, since no Roman had wanted to command gremlins, many of those positions were given to dark elves. Obran had served under various elvish commanders and quickly learned some of their language as well.
“Did you find their wine yet? Don't bother with the rest. I want you to take that arrow out as soon as possible;” the elf commander yelled in elvish to the elf inside their carriage.
The third elf emerged with a sack of their wine—it was the younger elf he’d seen with their commander. The younger looking elf also carried some bread, figs, and fruit as well as their gold and silver. They hadn’t bothered with the weapons or armor; elves only trusted their own craftsmanship. The young elf gave the wine skin to the injured elf who quickly drank several large mouthfuls.
“Sir, if he takes the gremlin, can I have the gnome, sir?” the young elf said.
It was hard to guess his age since elves aged very slowly but he had the blonde hair of a youngster. Yet how old was that, Obran wondered, since some even lived up to five hundred years of age.
“Just get to work,” the commander said.
“Yes commander but I can only take the arrow out and dress the wound,” the younger elf said. “I don’t have much skill with healing magic.”
“It is enough for now. He’ll be healed soon enough,” the commander said, still speaking in elvish.
The injured elf had been hit just a few inches above his heart; Just out luck...Obran also guessed the arrow had not pierced the silk undershirt all elves wore. So close, Tori, so close, Obran thought. The injured elf knew enough to not yank out the arrow and he took another large gulp of wine while his young comrade heated and cleaned his dagger in the fire. The young elf removed the arrow, then carefully dressed and cleaned the wound; the wounded elf never even made a sound and only stared at Obran as he was being treated. He hates me. Obran guessed the wounded elf was related to the elves who had attacked him and Tori near his home. Obran started to panic. That elf might kill Erkin for revenge, he thought. Obran tried to loosen and slip out of his bonds but they’d tied him up too well.
“There is still some fight in that gremlin,” the youngest gremlin said in elvish.
“Let him loose and let’s see if he can really fight like they say,” the injured elf said.
“Enough! Rest a bit and eat. We have a long road ahead,” the leader said.
Their commander unhitched the horses from the wagon and checked their condition. Obran saw the elven horses nearby too, three full sized war horses in excellent condition. They probably already had a plan to escape Italia so Obran had to think quickly. But what could he do? He didn’t see anyone on the road. Would Katrina and Mara try to get help? Was there anyone who could help them?
The young elf gave food and more wine to his injured companion. The elves appeared to be traveling light and looked hungry. Perhaps they were too focused on finding him and had hardly been supplied or rested.
“The gnome wasn’t lying; he does know how to make elven bread,” the youngest elf said to his injured companion. “Try some...it's pretty good.”
The injured elf took some bread reluctantly; he smelled it and took a bite. He didn’t say anything but Obran could see he enjoyed it.
“Sir. Do you want any food?” the youngest said to their leader .
“No,” he said. “Keep a watch. I’ll sleep for a couple of hours.”
The commander laid down near the fire while the other two continued to eat and drink. They will sleep soon too, Obran thought. At least I hope so. He hoped beyond hope that Stripe was right about the poison.
The two elves ate and drank greedily, appearing content that they’d succeeded in the mission. So they were distracted to notice the soft shimmer of dust falling on the wolf guarding Obran. Samara! Thank goodness. Tori noticed it too but Obran doubted she could see Mara gliding high above them in the darkness. Soon the wolf got up and began to pace back and forth and growl. But it was not growling at him or Tori or any of his companions. It had turned its attention to the young elf—no doubt the one controlling it. The young elf stood up, stared at the wolf, trying to use his powers to regain control of the large beast. The wolf and the elf fought and struggled on levels Obran could not begin to imagine. The wolf started to run around in circles, looking both confused and angry.
“Can you regain control?” the commander said. He’d awoken and had unsheathed his sword and looked ready to strike. But the young elf didn’t answer. Instead, he started to gasp and grabbed at his chest and throat, desperate for breath; the young elf fell on the ground as bile poured from his mouth. His injured companion, who had drunk and eaten even more greedily was already unconscious or perhaps even dead. The wolf, now free from control, ran to its dead mate and howled loudly. The commander scrambled to his dying comrade but there wasn’t anything he could do. He turned towards Obran when a stone streaked past his face, missing him by just a few inches. Katrina, Obran thought. The elf looked up into the darkness when Mara struck. She flew so fast Obran barely saw her streak by and jam her small blade directly into the eye of the elf. The elf shrieked but Mara lingered too long trying to dislodge the blade to attack again, perhaps blind the elf completely. But the elf struck Mara with the hilt of his blade and she fell to the ground, landing hard on her wings. The commander regained his composure and was about to bring down his blade on Mara when a stone struck his elbow and shattered his right arm. The elf dropped his blade just as Corvus rushed in from the darkness and pounced on the elf. The elf leader tried desperately to fight off the large dog with his bare hands while Corvus pulled and tore at his face and neck. Mara, unable to fly, ran and grabbed a dagger from one of the dead elves and rushed to Obran. Clever girl, Obran thought. He lowered his arms and she quickly cut him loose.
“Hurry and cut Tori loose,” Obran said.
Yet, the elf recuperated from the initial attack and struck Corvus hard on his snout. Corvus yelped and instinctively ran back to his master. The commander got up just as Obran grabbed the young elf's blade; the young elf was still convulsing and shaking but Obran didn’t hesitate and slit his throat; he then turned and faced their commander.
The elf had a shattered arm, had lost an eye, and was bleeding from his hands, arms, and face, but somehow still managed to grab his blade and run into the darkness just after another stone streaked past him. Obran looked around for his crossbow. No, I won’t shoot him in the back. I want to see his face . In the darkness the elf turned when he heard Obran running after him. The elf swung his blade with his left arm but Obran slid underneath his strike, and slashed at the back of the elf’s knee. It was not a lethal strike, but the elf fell to one left leg, now unable to run. Obran turned back and dashed several times past the elf trying to stab and disarm him, but even one knee, the elf was able to parry several of his attacks. Finally with a final dash Obran pierced his side and the elf fell to both knees.
“I can help you, assassin…elf killer,” the elf said.
The elf struggled to get back on his feet and limped towards Obran.
“The princess could be yours,” the elf said.
Obran didn’t respond—he knew the elf was trying to distract him. The elf then threw a dagger at Obran but he was able to deflect it. The commander fell to the ground, now bleeding profusely from all his wounds. He won't last long. But Obran wanted answers. He carefully approached the elf when suddenly the wolf, the one who had lost his mate, ran past him and pounced the elf in all its fury. The commander, seemingly resigned to his fate, didn't even scream or fight back. Enjoy, Obran thought as he walked back to the camp.248Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdKwao1fprw
