The Jewel of Turmish (3 page)

BOOK: The Jewel of Turmish
3.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“He’s a druid,” Druz said. “One of the Emerald Enclave.”

Her announcement started a quick chorus of conversation between the other mercenaries. Arvis, eyes straining in their sockets, looked at the man holding him captive with new—and perhaps fear-filled—respect.

Everyone in Turmish knew of the Emerald Enclave and the druids who filled the organization’s ranks. Despite the power that the various cities wielded along the Turmish coastline fronting the Sea of Fallen Stars as well as the Vilhon Reach, no one did anything involving the land without the consent of the Emerald Enclave. The druids’ first order of business was to preserve nature, and if that meant no civilization could invade pristine, sylvan glens or wooded areas that could be harvested by loggers, that was what it meant.

Tethys spat and growled a curse that offended even Druz, as hardened as she was to the ways of mercenary men and battle.

“Is that right?” he asked the forest warrior. “Are you a druid?”

“I won’t allow the killing of any more wolves,” the man replied.

“You can’t stop us,” Forras said.

The forest warrior turned his deep green eyes on the man. The moonlight threw emerald sparks from them.

Druz acted immediately, seeing the druid’s left hand twitch. She shoved Forras away. The man stumbled when he had to unexpectedly shift all his weight to his weak leg. He turned to Druz, lifting his sword threateningly.

“You damned fool!” Druz snapped.

“Are you siding with him, then … ?” Forras’s voice trailed off when he spotted the long, thin wooden dart quivering in the trunk of the tree he’d been standing in front of only a moment before.

“He would have killed you,” Druz said, glancing over her shoulder at the forest warrior. “He still might.” She studied the elf s hand, looking for a telltale sign that he had another dart ready.

Tethys took affront at the druid’s action. “You’d kill a man over a wolf?” he demanded in disbelief.

“Yes,” the druid replied. “The balance of nature must be kept. Your actions here unsettle that balance.”

Forras regained his composure but stayed within reaching distance of Druz. “The wolves are feeding on the herd stock nearby.”

“The cattle and sheep being raised here by the stockmen living in these lands have become—by rights—part of the wolves’ prey,” the elf druid said. “Those creatures, brought in by farmers, unsettle the balance of these lands by grazing. The wolves only make the sharing of the land more equal.”

Druz didn’t agree, but she didn’t offer her opinion either. Since the recent war, many countries and nations around the Sea of Fallen Stars had suffered. With so many ships lost to the sahuagin and pirates, trade had been bad. When countries didn’t have goods for sale, they seldom brought in goods either.

What the farmers and shepherds brought in had become increasingly important to the well-being of the area. Now that Myth Nantar had been opened from its hiding place, many things were being rethought considering the Sea of Fallen Stars. Even fishermen struggled to feed their families, and those territories they traded with were constantly redrawn by the nations above water as well as those below.

“The cattle and sheep are more important than the wolves,” Forras insisted.

The druid’s eyes partially closed in anger then opened again. “You’re a fool. Without the wolves to cut down the numbers of deer in the forests and through these lands, there would be little grass for the sheep and cattle. The deer would overpopulate this area in a matter of years.”

“There are men who would bring the deer down if they ever reached such plentiful numbers,” Tethys said. “They would be glad for the opportunity to fill their larders.”

“Are there?” The druid cocked his head and his tone bordered on sarcasm. “I’ve often noticed that when a city man has to make a choice between hunting, killing, cleaning, and cooking his own meal, he’d rather sit in a tavern and order it already prepared on a plate.”

“You’ve been to many civilized places, then?” Tethys asked.

“More than I care to remember,” the druid replied. His blade never wavered from Arvis’s throat. “I will give you until morning to get out of this forest. After that, I will track you down and kill you as you have tracked down and killed the wolves.”

“The balance you’re seeking to protect is false, druid,” Druz said. “We seek a wolf that has developed a fondness for human flesh.”

The druid shook his head slowly and carefully, without any emotion. “I don’t care. A wolf will hunt those that hunt it.”

“This wolf attacks children, druid.” Druz made her

voice hard and challenging. “Is that the kind of beast you would protect?”

“Children are lost every day. That is part of nature’s balance. Only the strong survive.”

“The strong,” Druz agreed, “and the clever.” She paused for the briefest moment, knowing her decision, but not knowing how the druid would respond. “I won’t suffer to let that creature live. I saw three of the children who were mauled by the wolf. They are neither strong nor clever. That’s why the wolf has singled them out.”

At Druz’s side, Kord shifted nervously, anticipating the scimitar’s stroke that would open his brother’s throat.

“Damn it, woman,” Kord snarled anxiously.

The druid’s eyes remained locked on Druz’s, and for a moment she thought he was so cold and intent that her words wouldn’t touch him.

Druz placed her hands on her hips, only inches from the hilts of the throwing daggers she had hidden under her leather armor behind her back. If the druid walked away, she intended to try to kill him. Maybe killing the other wolves they’d encountered hadn’t been on her agenda, but slaying the one they’d come to find definitely was.

The time passed almost unbearably.

Druz was acutely conscious of the small sounds in the forest around them. She couldn’t help wondering what kinds of creatures might be there, and if they were under the druid’s thrall. Warriors who lived outside forests and drank in taverns told horrible stories about the vindictive ways and practices of druids in general and the Emerald Enclave in particular.

“One wolf?” The druid spoke softly, his attention riveted on Druz.

“Yes.” She held his gaze full measure.

“He has a pack at his heels,” Tethys said.

“But there’s no evidence that any wolf except for the one has been part of the attacks,” Druz said. Tethys was striving to keep the scalps they’d taken, as well as freeing up the way to more. “One wolf.”

“Has this wolf harmed any of your kith or kin?” the druid asked.

Druz considered the question, knowing it would be easy to he, but she felt certain that somehow the druid would know. She’d never been that accomplished at lying.

“No.”

“You hunt this wolf for gold,” the druid stated.

“That’s not the reason,” Druz replied. “I saw those children. Their lives will never be the same. No matter what else happens to them, they will live with fear. I believe the wolf needs killing. Perhaps the wolf’s death will give them some measure of peace.”

The druid cocked his head slightly. “There is more.”

“I gave my word to the shepherd when I took his gold,” Druz said, not knowing if the druid would even understand the concept of payment for services.

“One wolf?” the druid said.

“Yes.”

“Do you know which wolf it is?”

“He’s full grown, starting to age. He has an old wound on the side of his muzzle.” Druz touched the right side of her face, dragging a finger from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth. “It was made by a blade—”

“Or a trap,” the druid suggested. “The shepherds and stockmen put out traps. A few years ago, they were successful with them, but wolves are clever and patient. They soon learned how to trip the traps then take the bait.”

“Perhaps,” Druz agreed, because she didn’t know and because agreeing with the theory was the easiest course to pursue. “At any rate, the scars left by the wound still show, and white hair has grown from it.”

“I will kill the wolf,” the druid stated simply. “All of you can leave the forest.”

“The hell we can,” Tethys blustered. “The man who hired us expects to see proof that we carried out our assignment.”

“I will kill the wolf,” the druid repeated. “Not because you say it is necessary, but because the wolf may teach the rest of his pack to start hunting humans.”

“You’ll protect people?” Forras asked, gazing at the elf druid in open distrust.

“Not people,” the druid admitted. “The wolves. If the wolf that has done this teaches his pack to yearn for human blood, they won’t live long. Warriors will hunt them out of fear, or if the gold is right. There could be good traits—size, strength—that the wolf leader and his pack could pass on to the next generation if they’re allowed to live. I won’t have that chance lost if I can prevent it.”

Tethys and Forras cursed belligerently.

“Don’t act like you’re doing us a damn favor,” Tethys snarled.

“It would be easier for me,” the druid stated, “to kill all of you than to kill the wolf.”

The lantern light flickered in the silence that followed the elf s words.

Druz knew the warriors among the group would have a hard time accepting the challenge that the druid’s mere presence offered, much less the sting left by the elf s words.

“What will it be?” the druid asked.

The warriors shifted.

Arvis spoke next, his voice hollow and filled with fear. “Kord, I am tiring.” His blood seeped slowly down the druid’s scimitar. The druid held his position.

“Let him go after the wolf,” Kord said.

“You don’t speak for all of us,” Forras said.

Kord turned to the smaller man, who wasn’t small at all. “I will in this matter, or I will stand with the druid.”

“Against your own?” Tethys asked. “I’ve fought with you, Kord—you and your brother. I can’t believe that you would—”

“If we live,” Kord interrupted, “well have the chance to fight together again.”

“He won’t kill Arvis,” Tethys replied, glaring at the druid. “He won’t dare. He knows we’ll track him down.”

“Track a druid?” Druz said. The tone of her voice mocked them. “I’ve been told that even rangers can’t track druids through their homelands.” She took a step toward Tethys. “He will kill Arvis.”

“You’re afraid of his words,” Forras accused.

“Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of the promises the druid has made tonight,” Druz said. “Kord and I will side with the druid.”

Traitors!” Tethys snarled. “All we have to do is stick together and this dandelion-sipper will back down.”

Something large shifted in the forest at the tail of Tethys’ words. The men looked behind him, turning slowly.

Though Druz felt relatively safe standing in front of the druid, the skin across the back of her neck tightened and prickled, and it felt like ice water ran down her back.

A huge brown bear followed its nose from the brush at the back of the clearing. The animal looked ponderous and heavy, but Druz knew the mud-splattered brown pelt covered rolling muscle.

Once, when she’d been in Chondath—protecting, under protest, a shipment of exotic wines bound for the Crying Claw—Druz had seen a bear and a bull fight to the death. She’d felt certain the bull would easily disembowel its opponent, but she was amazed by the speed and power of the bear. As it had turned out, the bear had beaten the bull as well as a pride of war dogs that had been loosed on it afterward.

The druid’s bear growled, and the barking, howling sound echoed through the forest. It surged to its hind legs effortlessly, standing almost twelve feet tall. Druz guessed that the animal might weigh a ton.

Cocking its head, the bear seemed to glare at Tethys in particular. Its black hps twitched back from fangs white as pearls. Massive claws glinted dully in the lantern light.

Tethys flinched and stepped back involuntarily.

“I already have someone who stands with me,” the druid stated quietly.

The bear roared again, and birds settled in the trees for the night took flight around them, daring the darkness rather than stay in the vicinity of the great creature.

“I will go now to kill the wolf,” the druid said. “If I find you here in the morning, I will kill you as well.” He drew the scimitar from Arvis’s throat and slung the blood onto the dirt.

Almost completely exhausted, Arvis collapsed to the ground. Kord started forward, but Druz stopped him, catching his arm with one hand.

“Wait,” she urged quietly. “Arvis is still alive. Work to keep him that way.”

“How do we know you’ll keep your word about killing the wolf, druid?” Forras demanded.

“Because I gave my word.” The druid halted at the clearing’s edge, almost out of sight in the shadows. “Just as I give my word that I will kill you if you’re still in this forest in the morning.”

“Your word isn’t good enough.” It wasn’t until after she’d spoken the words that Druz realized how barefaced they sounded.

The forest seemed to grow still around her. The druid stared at her. Druz stayed ready to move, realizing that she was trapped between the elf and the bear. Her throat felt cottony and dry.

“You doubt me,” the druid stated flatly.

“The shepherd who retained our services,” Druz said quietly, “isn’t a man who’s going to be easily satisfied. His oldest son was horribly disfigured by the wolfs attack. Even with clerics and healers, it’s going to be years before the boy is returned to his full health. The shepherd wants revenge for that.”

“This is not about revenge,” the druid said.

“That’s what I was paid for.”

Druz held her head up defiantly. She stepped toward the druid.

Arvis glanced around quickly then pushed himself along the ground as if afraid the druid would punish him first. He stayed down as he moved.

Druz kept walking, closing in on the druid. He flicked his eyes past her warily, looking to see if the others would come to her aid. Druz wasn’t surprised when they didn’t. The bear was easily the biggest she’d ever seen.

“Fm coming with you,” Druz said.

Swift as a bird on a wing, the druid brought his scimitar up to Druz’s throat. She steeled herself, stopping her

Other books

Mother and Son by Ivy Compton-Burnett
Dead and Breakfast by Kimberly G. Giarratano
Bishop's Folly by Evelyn Glass
Vexation Lullaby by Justin Tussing
Something About Sophie by Mary Kay McComas
Sabotaged by Margaret Peterson Haddix
Washington Deceased by Michael Bowen
Orchestrated Death by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles