Chapter 07 - Flight

There was a gasp from both elves behind him. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth was open, but no sound came out. "Mother?" Ahriender whispered.

The other five horsemen charged forward while the shooter reloaded. Each of them had a crossbow and a sword. Matner watched Frank in shock, but he did not seem to be moving. The horseman finished reloading. He looked down at Frank and moved on, seeming unconcerned.

Old Fredrickson fired at one of the men, who fell from the charging horse. A few others fired and missed. Just before the horsemen reached the caravan more crossbow bolts flew out of a stand of trees. Matner saw another group of six come charging forward.

"Move back," Matner eventually said, suddenly worried about what would happen if the men decided to just shoot the elves and kill them. He had to hope they needed the elves alive, and that they would not shoot. He also wished he had a crossbow to help the caravan.

He found himself looking over at the others, huddled together with the wagons. Lady Emarelle's face had gone white with fear, and Larissa had an angry look of determination. He was suprised to see her holding a quarterstaff in a relatively battle-ready position, and wondered where it had come from. Shannah had a longbow and appeared to be aiming, waiting for any of the attackers to get past the line of guards, while Fat Ren had a crossbow and Tam stood at the front of the little group, looking strange with a sword in his hands and his wisps of gray hair catching in the breeze.

The men coming down the road hit the caravan hard. Matner watched helplessly while two of them appeared to cut down Sameth and Nelser almost effortlessly. Part of Nelser's arm went flying with his sword and he dropped from his horse to the ground, screaming before the attacker's horse trampled over him as the man moved to fight Kelver next. Matner saw the tip of another man's sword come out through Sameth's back. The man yanked his sword back out and Sameth slumped forward before rollings sideways out of the saddle. His foot caught in the straps as he fell and he dangled, dragging on the ground as the horse tried to buck and get away in fear.

Old Fredrickson managed to take down another of the men with a crossbow bolt before having to abandon the crossbow for his sword. One of the attackers had come at him directly and Matner was surprised at how well the old dwarf was with the shortsword. The remaining men in the trees ran in on foot once their friends were in too close with the caravan to give them easy targets. Most drew swords, although there was one particularly large man with an axe. That man came in and slammed the blade of the axe down into Kelver's back as the twin was distracted by trying to kill the man who'd cut off Nelser's arm. Kelver was screaming as he fought, and the scream just cut short, an expression of suprised horror on Kelver's face before he fell off his horse.

In the distance he could see Frank, struggling to try and get up on the road, too far away to make any difference if he did. Brint, Trevon, and Old Fredrickson were each fighting off two opponents, while Dir Ketten was holding off three of the men. The nomad slashed one of the attackers deeply across the face and chest, causing him to step back out of the fight. He swept his leg around low as he turned, tripping up the one trying to stay behind him and sending him sprawling. He parried the remaining man before turning again and cutting the sword deep across throat of the man on the ground. With another spin, he came around again and brought both swords up and plunged their wide points into the stomach of the remaining opponent. He leaned in and brought his knee up between the two blades to leverage the dead man back off of them before turning to help Old Fredrickson with his opponents.

Dir Ketten distracted one of the men on Old Fredrickson, and the dwarf slashed the man across the stomach. Some of the men were better armored than the others. The man grimaced back from the impact, but clearly the blade did not bite through. Dir Ketten spun completely around, and at the end his whirling blade took the man's head completely off. There was another gasp from Ahriender.

Old Fredrickson pointed off towards Matner and the elves, and said something he could not hear from a distance. Dir Ketten nodded and turned away. He ran off towards the remaining horses, sheathing his two swords on his back on the way.

When he got to the horses he lept up on to his without pausing. He wheeled the horse around and charged over to Matner. He pointed quickly at the three of them and then pointed off towards a large stand of trees in the distance.

"But we can't just leave them," Ahriender said.

"No," Matner said, finally starting to come out of the shock of it all. "Frank said to take you to safety."

"We cannot save them," Sharenellynn said softly.

Dir Ketten pointed again, a fierce look on his face.

"Come on, we have to get out of here," Matner said.

"Maybe if I went..." Sharnellynn's voice was almost lost in the sound of the battle behind him as Matner wheeled his horse around. "If you took Ahriender, and I went back..." Tears rolled down the elf's face as she watched the grisly scene.

"No Mother!" the boy face grew more horrified at her words.

"You both are coming. No time for arguing about it. That decision was made long before now." He tried to sound strict and confident about it as he brought his horse forward between their's. He took the reins of Ahriender's horse in his own and turned the beast the direction they needed to go, touching Sharnellynn's arm with his other hand.

"Those men would do far worse than you can imagine before bringing you back to Tikor, m'lady. I'm sure of it. We need to leave now."

"But what of the others?"

He was sure he heard a grunt of frustration as Dir Ketten grabbed the reins of the elven woman's horse and brought it around quickly. She had to lean in to keep from falling off the horse herself, and didn't have time to protest more. Matner kept a loose hold on the boy's reins and encouraged both horses into a gallop towards the trees that Frank had pointed out before. His mind whirled as he rode, and it was all he could do not to look back to see what was happening to the caravan. He looked forward, towards the treeline, wondering how deep in they would have to get to be safe, and how they would connect with the caravan.

If anyone survives, he couldn't help but think, his stomach churning. Those men had training. It must be quite a bounty on our heads!

Dir Ketten signalled to him as the went into the shade of the trees, and he was able to confirm that the man intended to cover their tracks behind them. He was surprised to find that Dir Ketten seemed to know the various hand signals he'd learned in his training at the academy. He'd always assumed that it was primarily taught for the military and wondered where the man had picked it up. Then he remembered Trevon had been a soldier, and decided it must have been that. He was able to figure out that Dir Ketten would be able to track them in and cover those tracks as he went. Dir Ketten dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to Matner.

Matner led the elves deeper into the woods. He wondered how large the little wood was. He had been able to tell from the start that it was no large forest. He guessed it was at best a mile wide. How deep he had know way of gauging.

Even if it was only a mile square, he reasoned, it would still make it hard for the attackers to know which way to go. It would not be large enough to hide in, but large enough to hide behind, with a little head start. He decided he should get them through it quickly so that they could start making better time once through.

He guided them along, moving through the thinnest areas. Thinner areas made for faster moving, and would make it easier for Dir Ketten to cover their tracks as they went.

None of them talked as they rode. It was just the sometimes crunching of hooves, and the occasional snort. Wind rustled branches laden with big green fingered leaves. It was not eerie quiet, but thoughtful quiet. He noticed both the elves looked more relaxed--more at home. He wondered what their--her, he supposed, since Ahriender had never seen it--homeland was like.

"Are you own lands very forested?" he asked, hoping talking would help distract them from the reason for their ride.

"Much of it, yes," Sharnellynn replied. "Though we had areas of farmland as well."

"How long has it been since you've seen it?" he asked.

"How long since the war? We were loyal to our King, and we honored the arrangement he made with yours. It didn't take long after the victory before we were rounded up and sent away. It seems a lifetime ago. I was still only a girl myself."

Her voice seemed full of loss and sorrow, and Matner found himself silent again for a while afterwards. His mind hashed over the different things that had happened recently until suddenly he decided to put voice to one of his concerns.

"You don't trust me, do you?" He didn't know any other way to ask but plainly, so he did. The question seemed to take her by surprise.

"I..." she paused for a moment, as if thinking of a polite way to respond. "I don't trust many," she finally said. "To be fair, not many have given me reason to."

"have I given you any reason not to?"

"No. Not specifically."

"Good," he nodded.

"Although," she added, "you have not specifically done anything to earn it."

He deflated a bit at that statement, and he had no response to it. Instead he turned away and focused more on the woods ahead of them.

"Trust does not strictly have to be earned, but I will admit that until recently I have been less than impressed by your people. You are younger than I, so, like Ahriender, you have not experienced anything different. Servitude without choice is not the life I want for my son."

"So you'd rather risk a life of fleeing?" he asked. "Since right now that seems to be the way of it. What if it's like this all the time?"

"I would rather a life that is free than a life of slavery, which is like an un-life."

"Is it really--" he broke himself off from asking if it was really that bad. He tried to put himself in her situation. If he were captured by an enemy he would certainly go to any lengths to escape. He supposed maybe she felt the same way.

"Is it really what?" she asked. It occurred to him to wonder if she knew that his family were slave owners. How would she feel about him if she knew that? He did not want it to come up.

"Nothing. Stupid question, never mind," he said. Ahriender, he realized, had said nothing through the whole exchange. He found himself turning back and sparing the boy a glance. He had been listening closely, and his curious eyes met Matners. Matner turned back forwards to guide them under some low branches.

"It won't take long before we're out of these trees," he said, changing the topic. "We ought to veer away from the road more."

He turned them some, hoping Dir Ketten wouldn't have trouble keeping their trail. He worried, however, that it would be hard to cover if the attackers had anyone capable of tracking with them. While tracking had never been his strong suit at the academy, he did know enough to know that they were breaking a lot of small branches and twigs along the way. He suspected Dir Ketten knew enough to hide their tracks from most, but wondered if an experienced tracker would still be able to find the trail.

In the silence as they rode through the rest of the woods, he tried not to think of the battle behind them. He wished there was a safe way to turn back and find out what had happened to the rest of the caravan. In trying not to think about it, he found himself thinking about the two slaves father had owned instead. Raelwyn and Dynedren hadn't talked about themselves to him at all, but then he'd never thought to ask. He realized he'd just taken them for granted, like the rest of the staff. He had to admit that there had been little separation in his own mind between them and the hired help, but he knew that they had often been given the more menial tasks and slept apart from the others. He'd never seen their quarters, so he didn't know if they were different in that regard too. He felt torn between guilt that he'd been a party to keeping elves enslaved, or pleased that his family didn't seem to treat them badly in comparison to many others. As they reached the edge of the small woods, he decided that regardless of how his family's slaves had been treated, he really didn't want the two elves he was traveling with to know about them.

He paused at the edge of the trees, surveying the landscape before them. Most of it was farmland again, with the occasional rows of trees that had been left to serve as a windbreak between fields. Some of the rows were thicker than others and he decided to try and stick to some of them, in an effort to obscure them further from being seen by any pursuers. He wondered at what point it would be good to stop and wait for Dir Ketten, however, since the man was no longer on horseback. He decided to wait just past the first row of trees. In a few more hours it would be dark enough that he didn't want Ketten to lose their trail due to darkness. If he stopped there, Matner hoped that the man would still have just enough light to get track them with.

"We'll just wait here for a little bit and let him catch up," he said, feeling the need to explain. "Out of the woods the horses would make it harder for him to keep up."

"What if something happens to him while he's all by himself?" Ahriender asked.

"He is a very capable man, and would probably at least try to avoid trouble," Sharnellyn suggested reassuringly.

"Oh."

They waited uncomfortably while the sun set.

"Are you sure he's not in trouble?" Ahriender asked.

Just then Dir Ketten emerged from the treeline. Matner moved forward and waved him on. Dir Ketten quickly trotted over. He lept up onto his horse and turned to point along the side of the little forest. He signalled that there were enemy coming from that way, then gestured that they should go the other way. There was no arguing required to make the point.

They took off quickly. Dir Ketten slowed them from a full gallop, but they made a good canter across the farmland. They came to the first low fence at the edge of one field, but the horses were all capable of jumping it.

They rode for a couple more hours as darkness settled on the fields around them, cooling the night air. Eventually, Dir Ketten spotted an abandoned barn at the edge of one of the fields. It looked as if the farmhouse next to it had burned down at some point and the farmers had abandoned the barn itself afterwards. Birds fluttered out of holes in the roof as they pulled open one of the doors and made their way into the darkness, and Matner could hear the sounds of small animals scurrying for cover. Once inside, he pulled out a candle from his pack and cleared some ground of straw to light it over.

The dim glow of the candle made just enough light to get an eye on their surroundings. There was no chance of getting to the loft, as the barn had been abandoned long enough that about half of it had collapsed down onto the floor. The other half seemed like it would stay up for the night, but the ladder was gone so there was no safe way to get up to it. They tethered the horses in two of the standing stalls, leaving the saddles in place in case they needed to leave quickly.

"We probably shouldn't build a fire," he told them, seeing Dir Ketten nod in agreement. "This candle should be small enough that no one will see it, but the less light we use, the better."

"Next, let's take stock of what supplies we all have," he suggested, sitting down and pulling his own pack open. "Everyone seems to have had their bedrolls on their horses with them, but we're without tents so we'll need to work around that. Most nights we can sleep under the stars if need be, but we'll want to find shelter when it rains." He dumped the contents of his bag out, realizing how little there really was in useful items within it. Most of it was clothes, the book he'd bought, and some basic toiletries. In traveling with the caravan, he hadn't needed to worry about quite a few things. Food, he realized, was going to be the biggest problem.

"We'll need to do something about food," he said aloud, frowning as he looked around at what they had available. The elves didn't have much more than clothes, a couple of books, a small rug, and their bedrolls between them. Dir Ketten, on the other hand seemed prepared for quite a few emergencies. The man had bandages, rope, and a few other basics, including a small metal pot amongst his belongings. He seemed to have everything packed very neatly and tightly into his pack, and arranged it in an orderly manner on the ground so Matner could see. There was almost a smugness in the look he gave Matner, as he pulled out a small pouch of dried beef strips from his pocket and shared them around with everyone. He did frown at the empty bag, however, before tucking it back into the pocket it had come from. Matner thanked him, as did the elves before everyone was quiet for a while, chewing on the tough meat.

"Are we going to go back for the others?" Ahriender asked between bites.

He thought about the mission he had been given: deliver her safely to Eihrwayh. He realized he did not know how to get there. He turned to Dir Ketten to ask if maybe he knew the way there. He stopped before asking, realizing also that he had no clue as to who Old Fredrickson's contacts there had been, let alone in any of the other towns they might try near there. He found it less likely that the nomad knew any of them.

"I think maybe we should," he suggested

Dir Ketten gave him a concerned look.

"I saw a stream at the edge of the farm," Matner said to Dir Ketten. "Let's go water the horses, and fill our skins for tomorrow. Then we can leave earlier."

"I can do it," Sharnellyn suggested.

"No," Matner countered. "We can do it. You take the quiet moment with Ahriender, maybe get yourselves ready for sleep."

"Reasonable enough," she acquiesced.

Dir Ketten followed him out of the rickety barn.

"I don't know where we're supposed to go," he confessed to the silent nomad. "I don't suppose you know who we're supposed to talk to once we get there, do you?"

Dir Ketten shook his head and shrugged, as if to say, I'm not the social one.

"Without the others, we don't know how to get to Eihrwayh, or who to contact when we get there. It seems to me we have no choice but to try to go back for them. Assuming there's anyone still alive." Matner stopped walking, having found the stream, and encouraged the horses he'd been leading to drink. His shoulders slumped as he knelt down to begin filling the water skins.

"I wish you could talk," he admitted, unhappily. "I could really use some advice right now." He sighed, frustrated, as he capped up one full skin and moved to the next. He heard Dir Ketten sigh as well.

"We must look forward. Not back. Back is danger. I know the way to Eihrwayh. Perhaps we will meet the Dwarf there."

Matner looked up at the man, his mouth gaping open for a moment in astonishment. Ketten's voice was thick with an accent Matner had never heard before, but still clear enough to understand.

"But... I thought you couldn't talk!" he blurted out in surprise.

"I never said that, did I?" he asked, looking amused. "But I'd rather it not get around. Don't expect me to make habit of it." Ketten shrugged again and returned to the skin he had been filling.

"But why?" Matner couldn't help but ask. "Isn't it harder that way?"

"Sometimes the easy path is not the right one," he answered, capping the water skin. "That's all you get from me tonight." He stood up and took the reins of the two horses he'd led to the stream and began heading back towards the barn.

He groaned at the strange nomad's back. He hoped Dir Ketten was right and that the caravan would meet up with them. It was, he supposed, at least a plan.

He capped the waterskin he had been filling, hoping that the caravan had survived. If going back was danger, did that not mean that the caravan was still in danger. He supposed what was dangerous for two men and two unarmed passengers might not be as dangerous for a larger, better-supplied group.

He stood up, looking at the farm across the stream. A cow mooed off in the distance somewhere, a sleepy moaning sound. There was food nearby, he thought. It did not, however, seem right to take it, and he doubted that they had anything valuable to trade.

He walked back to the ratty barn with his two horses. Inside he put them back into stalls, looping their reins around posts. Dir Ketten pointed one finger at himself and then two fingers at Matner. "First watch, second watch, got it," Matner said quietly.

Sharnellyn was singing softly in the beautiful elven language, and he did not want to disturb her. He assumed it was some form of lullabye, or perhaps a sung prayer. He said his own prayers silently in the night, hoping that he was doing the right thing.

It took him a while to fall asleep, and then it seemed like no time at all before Sharnellyn woke him.

"Where's Dir Ketten," he asked quietly, alarmed.

"Sleeping," Sharnellyn said. "I told him it made no sense for the two of you to each only get half a night sleep when three of us could share the burden. Besides, I have better night eyes than both of you, and probably better hearing as well. I'm just as capable of watching for trouble."

"And he let you?" Matner asked. "I wouldn't have expected him to do that."

"He did not argue," she stated.

"No, I don't suppose he would have," Matner admitted, reminded again of the surprise conversation earlier. "But what would you do if we were attacked?"

"Wake the two of you," she replied. "It is possible I might even hear them coming before one of you would, especially if you are too tired from not getting enough sleep."

"It's our job to protect you," he countered, rolling out of his bedroll and pulling on his boots.

"It's your job to protect my son," she said, softly casting a glance over at Ahriender's sleeping form.

"And you," he said, trying to read her expression. "We'll protect both of you."

"Of course," she said, with an odd sigh. "Now that you're awake, I'd better return to sleep myself."

She seemed strangely sad as she moved away to her bedroll. He watched her out of the corner of one eye as he buckled his swordbelt into place, and she knelt down next to her son and brushed hair off of his face before lying down on her blankets next to his.

The small candle had gone out a long while before, and he was surprised at how well his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He stepped outside the barn and made a quick circuit around it, stopping to listen now and again, before stepping back inside. Moon and starlight filtered in through some areas of the roof, helping visibility inside. He found a bale of hay that was still halfway intact and tried sitting on it. It gave enough under his weight to make him reconsider, and the sounds of small squeaking critters scurrying out from inside the hay decided the matter. Instead, he folded his bedroll and sat on that instead of rolling it up.

It was a nice night outside, and it was not long before he found himself pacing over back to the big doors. Sharnellynn shifted in her sleep, but did not wake. She had, of course, fallen asleep almost immediately.

He listened to the sounds of the cool summer night. Night birds called to each other in the distance. He heard the triumphant shriek of an owl catching some wriggly prey, and remarked to himself that the sound was much as it had been described.

There were different owls in farmlands, he knew, than anything he would have ever encountered back home. He had never seen an owl, and wished that he had just been outside to maybe see the bird. Country folk had apparently always thought them good luck. He hoped that applied tonight, as well.

Between the chirping crickets and the random bird sounds everything seemed very normal outside. He wondered if there were pursuers out there still, waiting until the sunlight returned to track them by. Naturally, he also worried that there were dark figures stalking through the night, creeping up to surround them even now. But a crow-like bird call made that seem less likely. A bird in the area would respond to intruders, wouldn't it?

Even still he resisted the urge to go outside of the barn, and he wished that the horses were even quieter in their sleep than they were. Each little snort seemed loud to him, and he desperately hoped that if there were anyone out there that they would ignore the ratty old barn.

The few hours before the sun began to lighten the sky on the horizon seemed to take forever to pass. He found himself missing Sameth's company, as the two of them had been partnered for watches almost the entire time he'd been with the caravan. Then he found himself replaying the battle he'd seen before leaving the caravan behind.

Sameth is surely dead, he told himself, remembering the limpness of his friend's body as it had dragged from where it had snagged on the saddle of his horse. Kelver is dead too. He couldn't have survived that axe wound.

He forced himself to admit that it was likely Nelser was dead too. Although he might have recovered from losing his arm, it was unlikely he survived being trampled. He wondered what had happened after they had left, and if anyone had survived at all. His mind wandered back to Lissa and Tam, both looking determined to fight if the battle got past the front line, and he closed his eyes for a moment, praying that they were alright.

He cast a glance over at Dir Ketten's sleeping form, wondering if the fight wouldn't have gone better if the nomad had remained to finish it with them instead of escorting Matner and the elves away. He had to admit that Ketten fought better than anyone he'd yet seen, and managed to seem both precise and relaxed in a fight. He'd somehow expected the man to fight more in a more brutal, primal manner, and yet the man had made it seem like it was more of a dance than anything else.

Old Fredrickson, on the other hand, fought more like an old sea captain might, with a lot of obvious experience under his belt and a determination that made Matner feel a little more confident in the Old Dwarf's survival. He suspected it would take a lot more to take Fredrickson down, and wondered once again just how old the caravan owner really was.

Frank, he was unsure about, as the man had not looked good trying to stagger to his feet the last time Matner had seen him. Brint and Trevon seemed to have been fighting well, but Matner couldn't be sure if it had been enough to ensure their survival. The men that had come at them had seemed a lot more experienced than the previous group had been. It made Matner wonder just how high the bounty on them was.

He sent more prayers their way before the edge of the sun was about to break over the top of the horizon. Then he stretched his legs and took the chance to relieve himself again before waking the others. As he made his way back to the barn afterwards, a different sound caught his ear. It was one he hadn't expected, out of the different sounds he'd been preparing himself for throughout the watch. It was the sound of two children, laughing and talking as they headed towards the barn.

A glow was developing on the horizon, but his eyes were still adjusted to the mostly dark. The children were oblivious to the world around them, not having any reason to expect others were around. It was a boy and a girl. They looked to be about the same age, maybe three or so years younger than him.

They were walking along quickly, coming from off to the side. He quickened his pace and got to the barn door the same time they did. They started at seeing him. The girl gave a small shriek. Her face immediately took on a guilty expression. His face looked immediately worried.

"Excuse me," Matner said. "My friends are sleeping in there. I'd appreciate it if you let them be. We're not out for trouble, just passing through. Now, are you two supposed to be out here this early in the morning?"

Neither of them answered right away. The boy's expression turned to one of guilt as well. Matner guessed at what they had come out to the abandoned barn to do, thinking that he would certainly have never been that bold three years ago.

"I'm guessing your parents don't know you're out here, then?" Both stammered a bit trying for a response, but neither really succeeded. He hoped it meant that neither of them would say anything to families about having seen him, since they would have no good way of explaining their own presence at the barn just then. "Why don't you go on home and we'll be gone soon, no harm done."

"We... I mean, I..." the boy stammered, obviously trying to think quickly. "Hey! This is my pa's barn!"

"Mich..." the girl whispered, starting to look frightened and touching his arm as she backed behind him. Her eyes were going back and forth between Matner's and the sword on Matner's belt. Meanwhile, the boy seemed to be trying to look tough.

"Doesn't look to me as if he's using it right now," Matner replied, trying to sound as confident as he hoped he looked. "No animals being kept here, and half the roof's caved in. I hardly think he'd mind if a couple of travelers stopped in it overnight. Looks as if he's already gone and built himself a new one." Matner nodded off in the direction of the house and newer barn, guessing that it was were the boy lived since they had come from that general direction. It appeared he was right, since the boy glanced worriedly back at the house as if he expected his father to show up and catch him.

"Now then," Matner continued, attempting to take hold of the moment while he had it. "As I said, my friends could still get a short bit of rest yet before we need to move further on. We've had some long, hard travel behind us and more to come yet so we all appreciate the chance to bunk down somewhere out of the wind for a bit. I'd rather you didn't wake them. Of course, if you're concerned about your father being upset that we're in his barn, I'm sure I could accompany you back to the house and explain it to him instead..." he let his voice trail off, raising an eyebrow at the boy and waiting for an answer. He could tell by the boy's expression of alarm that he'd won. The boy had no idea that Matner was bluffing, although Matner did entertain the idea that he might have been able to convince the boy's father, depending on what kind of man he was.

"N - No, that's okay Mister," the boy stammered, confidence gone. "Yer right, I'm sure pa wouldn't mind when ya put it like that. Sorry ta disturb ye. C'mon Lizzy, let's go."

The girl looked visibly relieved as the boy ushered her away, back towards the house. Matner waited, watching the two of them until they were well out of sight within the cornfield. He watched for a while more, keeping an eye on where the corn waved in their wake before he was satisfied they were gone. When he moved back into the barn, he found Dir Ketten waiting, just inside, leaning against the door as if he had been listening for a while. Matner wondered just when the man had woken up. Dir Ketten said nothing, merely nodding and moving to his bedroll, where he began rolling it up.

The elves woke up before Matner had finished rolling his bedroll--such as it was--up. They started rolling up their own things without a word being exchanged. They had no more food, so there was no question of arranging breakfast first.

Matner suggested they could try asking at the farm, in case there was something they could trade. Dir Ketted looked skeptical for a moment before slowly shaking his head no.

It took very little time at all before they were up on horses and moving. They decided to skirt around the edge of the farm entirely. A couple of hours into the day Dir Ketten stopped them and led them into the edge of another small wood. This one was not more than a quarter mile across, and likely not much deeper.

Inside and out of sight, Dir Ketten gestured to an area of ground and indicated that they should wait here for a while. The nomad pointed to a run of animal tracks, and pointed in the direction they led.

"Dir Ketten's going to try and see about food," he told the elves. "We should be safe waiting here out of sight."

"Why doesn't he ever say anything?" Ahriender asked after Dir Ketten had been gone a while and they had settled down to wait in the clearing.

"I'm not sure," Matner admitted. "He's from different lands, with different ways I guess."

"But he's like you," the boy pointed out. "Human, I mean."

"Yes, but not all Humans are alike," Sharnellynn tried to explain. "They tend to spread out more, and so they have developed many cultures over their years."

"Not like Elves, then?"

"No, not like us."

"Which am I, Mother?"

Matner looked up from the twig he'd been absentmindedly inspecting to see Sharnellynn looking thoughtful for a moment before responding.

"You're special, Ahriender. You have both Human and Elven blood in your veins."

The boy sighed, looking frustrated by the answer, and Matner realized that Ahriender didn't consider himself to be of either race. He wondered what it might be like to not fit in like that.

"You're sure the other Elves will let me stay right? When we find the free ones?"

"Yes, my son. Don't worry yourself so."

"Of course they will," Matner piped in, trying to help. "You certainly look Elven to me."

He'd meant it to be helpful but regretted it when he saw their faces. Ahriender looked sad and looked down at his hands in his lap, and Sharnellynn seemed to cringe at his words. He knew he'd said something wrong, but had no way of knowing what it was.

"I - I'm sorry," he stammered, unsure what else to say.

"It's alright, Matner, you don't know," Sharnellynn said softly. "Show him, son. It's alright."

Ahriender looked more timid than Matner had seen him as he pulled the hood back from his head. Matner wasn't sure at first what he was looking at, and it took him a few moments to realize that the only difference between Ahriender and any other elf he'd seen was that Ahriender's ears were not the longer, pointed ears of an elf. Once he realized it, they did look a bit odd on the boy, who otherwise looked Elven in all repects.

"It's not a very big difference," he pointed out. "I almost didn't even see what was different."

"It's important to Elves," Sharnellynn replied, and Ahriender quickly yanked the hood back up onto his head again.

"So how are other elves likely to treat him?" he asked. He tried to come up with something similar with humans, and about the closest thing he could think of was if someone had no ears. He had seen plenty of people around the city with one form or another of deformation. They often enough became beggars. He had seen beggars missing an eye, or an arm or a leg. There had been one man whose ear had been bitten off by a dog, but none of that was related to birth.

"I am honestly not entirely certain," she eventually answered. Ahriender shrunk down a little more. "There will be some that will be accepting no matter what. There will be many who will reject him outright. I expect it will be a matter of finding the most tolerant community. It may take a few tries, which will not be easy, but I think we are prepared for it. We will find such a group."

"But I thought matings between elves and humans was supposed to be impossible. Something about not not being compatible."

"It is supposed to be extremely unlikely. Nothing is impossible," she stated flatly. She said it with a finality that left him with nothing else to say, and thus the conversation ended. He found himself returning to the twig he had been fidgeting with.

He was peeling the twig into smaller and smaller pieces when Dir Ketten returned with a pig over his shoulder. He dropped it down with a triumphant thud, although there was no look of triumph on his face.

Matner had no idea how to butcher the animal, but Dir Ketten didn't hesitate in getting started. Without a word, the nomad began skinning the pig and cutting strips of meat off of it in large pieces. Meanwhile, Matner had Sharnellynn and Ahriender gather nearby wood and make a small fire for them to cook over. Dir Ketten showed Matner how to wrap some of the meat in leaves while some was also cooked over thin, flat stones that were heated on the fire. The rest was boiled in Dir Ketten's small pot, along with some leaves and berries that Sharnellynn had gathered while finding wood for the fire. Matner was sure he wasn't the only one who's stomach rumbled at the smell of the cooking meat, and it seemed to take forever before some of it was ready to be eaten.

They still ate sparingly, and salted much of the rest to preserve it. Once they were done, Dir Ketten took care of spreading the fire out and dousing it well before covering it with loose dirt and stone to conceal it. He sent them on ahead again, remaining behind on foot to conceal their tracks once more. By mid-afternoon, the nomad had caught up to them again and they made some faster progress on the other side of the woods. That night they made camp in another, slightly larger wooded area, at the edge of a small river. Dir Ketten indicated that they would have to follow it until there was a place to cross.

"Ahriender and I need to bathe," Sharnellynn said after they had eaten. "That stream is clean and clear, and we cannot be certain when we will have the opportunity again."

"That's probably true," Matner agreed.

"It means you will not be able to watch over us," she pointed out.

"But if something happens..."

"Is it likely that someone will sneak up on us here?" she questioned.

For his part, Dir Ketten looked up thoughtfully from the little pan he was cleaning. He shrugged a little but looked rather doubtful.

"It seems like a risky chance to take. We need to at least be close by, I'd think."

"Then Dir Ketten should sit not far away at the bank with his back turned. Will that satisfy you?" she asked.

Dir Ketten shook his head adamantly, with almost a look of alarm on his face.

"Do your people have specific rules about bathing?" Sharnellynn asked. Dir Ketten nodded. "And, of course, you aren't going to tell us about them," she added. His breath chuckled through his nose in reply, and he shook his head.

"Very well," she said with a small sigh. "Then Matner shall be the one at the bank."

Dir Ketten seemed relieved and suddenly preoccupied himself with cleaning up after their dinner. Matner stood up, wondering what the nomad's bathing rules were.

"I will alert you if there should be any trouble," Sharnellynn told him as they walked to the edge of the river. "Otherwise, you may sit here and please keep your back to us." She pointed at a spot a few feet away from the water.

"Of course," he nodded at her before taking a seat where she had indicated.

The riverbank was littered with small stones and he picked one up, idly inspecting it. Behind him, he could hear Sharnellynn and Ahriender taking off their clothes and stepping into the water. The river flowed slowly here, but made gentle burbling and lapping noises as it passed over rocks along it's edge. One large tree nearby hung particularly low, leaning in so it's branches dangled into the water. It creaked with the strain of the slight pull of the water and the breeze in the air and small insects buzzed and plopped betweeen the leaves and the surface. He also noticed he could hear the occasional birds and honking of geese here as well the rustling of leaves around him. There was more breeze here, by the river, than there had been even by their small campfire. The evening was warm enough, however, that it made the breeze feel welcome across his face. He loosened the buckles on a couple areas of his armor so that more air could pass under it, thinking that he could possibly use some bathing himself.

He could hear them moving in the water. There were the little splashes and the sounds of water being dropped back into the stream. Sharnellynn warned Ahriender not to lose the soap, it was the only piece they had. "I know, Mother," the boy responded. Matner could tell from the tone that they had traded those particular comments regularly.

He supposed there had been a number of things, like soap, that Matner had probably taken for granted that slaves just did not have easy access to. Did Father's slaves have to buy soap, or did Father provide it for them, he wondered. His own life had been very different from those of these two elves. He felt sure they would become at least a little bit bitter towards him if they realized the extent. Technically, Matner had come from a wealthy family. He wondered to himself if perhaps he had been a bit spoiled by that.

Suddenly he did not hear the elves moving in the water. He waited for an anxious moment, hoping it would pass. It did not. He had to turn and check, but if nothing was wrong? Another long moment. If they were in trouble, and he did not turn, that would be worse than checking if nothing was wrong, right? It was not like he was peeking on them... He turned.

"Matner!" Sharnellynn yelled. Matner immediately turned back. The water was about waist high on Sharnellynn, who was standing. It was higher than that for Ahriender, but he had lowered himself into the slow-moving water to his chin. Elven breasts seemed no different than human ones, he noticed--at least not from what he had seen in paintings.

"I didn't hear anything, I had to make sure you were alright," he tried to explain.

"You could have asked," she angrily pointed out.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said quickly, his face reddening with embarrassment.

There was no response from the elven woman and he distracted himself, making a small pile of the river stones while he waited. He listened intently, however, trying to focus on the area around the river, in case any footsteps or the sound of hooves became apparent. After a while, it sounded as if the elves were done and making their way through the water, back towards the beach.

"I love the water, Mother," Ahriender said, sounding happy. "Watch this!"

Matner heard splashing, and a lilting laugh from Sharnellynn.

"We shall have to find a place to live where there is plenty of water then," she told him. "Come now, we should dry off and get dressed."

"Yes, Mother," the boy replied. "Are there many -"

Ahriender's voice cut short with a splashing sound, causing Matner to sit up straight, worried.

"Ahriender?" Sharnellynn's voice sounded concerned as well, and Matner stopped caring whether or not he upset her by turning around. He spun to a half-crouch, and began looking for Ahriender in the water.

Suddenly the boy's head and arms came up from the water, as he gasped for air and flailed his arms before disappearing again.

"Ahriender!" Sharnellynn screamed and Matner was running into the water, diving forward as quickly as he could.

It seemed to take him forever to get to where he'd last seen the boy, and the water felt thicker to him than he'd ever remembered when he'd been swimming in the past. He could see ripples and disturbances in the water near where Ahriender had been, and they seemed to be traveling away from him, downriver. From what he could tell, something had hold of the boy and was pulling him to the bottom and away. Matner drew his sword and dove down into the water trying to see. Despite the clarity of the water itself, dirt was being kicked up from the bottom and clouding visibility. He could barely see the boy, still struggling agains some sort of dark beast with a long tail and snout. It seemed as if the thing had him in it's teeth. That was the most Matner could be sure of before he had to come up for air again.

"You'll stab him!" Sharnellynn cried as he took another huge lungful of air. "You can't use your sword!"

She was making her way towards him, as if trying to reach to stop him. He ignored her and dove forward into the water again, pushing as hard as he could with his feet to propel him towards Ahriender and the creature.

The creature was long, maybe half again as long as Ahriender was tall. It was spinning around, churning with water with the struggling boy, which it held gripped in a long snout.

At first he tried once at banging on the beast with the pommel of the sword, hoping the beast was let go. It did not. He could not get leverage to swing the sword under water. He was forced to go up for air before he could try stabbing at it. The water had not been deep where they had started, but the creature had moved the boy to water too deep for Matner to stand in.

His armor was making it harder and harder to move about in the water, and it became a struggle for air. A quick gulp of it and he was back down in water growing darker and murkier the more churned up it became.

He stabbed at the creature, but the point skipped off the creature's tough, scaly hide. Starting to panic he stabbed again, and again got the same result. Ahriender's movements were weak, and Matner knew it was now or never to save him. He stabbed one last time with everything he had. This time the point found a weaker place, and pierced through. He kept pushing until it was hilt deep in the beast.

Red blood stained the already murky water. The beast stopped its spinning and let go of Ahriender. It jerked away, threatening to take Matner's sword with it. He gave it a yank and it slid free. The creature, no longer bound in place, darted away with a powerful wriggle of a long tail that seemed half the creature's length.

His lungs screamed for more air, but Ahriender had stoped moving and was still being pulled away from Matner, caught in the undercurrent. Matner pushed himself forward, with the current, until he was able to snag the boy's foot with his free hand. He then struggled to move upwards his sword flailing against the water in one hand and Ahriender's body pulling him back in the other. The dimly lit sky seemed more like a reflection at the surface of the water above him, mocking him from what seemed like so far away.

His head pounded almost as hard as his heart beat in his chest by the time he broke with the surface of the water and was able to gasp air into his lungs. He got a mouthful of water with it too, however, as he bobbed back down, pulled by the weight of his armor and Ahriender. He sputtered when he rose to the surface next, and managed to clear his mouth of water and stay up long enough to get a decent amount of air. Then he struggled to put his sword in it's scabbard again so he could use both hands to pull Ahriender up. He nearly gave up and dropped the sword, knowing he didn't have much time to mess around, but suddenly it slid into place and he was able to let go of the hilt and pull Ahriender towards him.

He grabbed the boy under both arms, as his friend Leyeb had taught him when they'd gone swimming once. He pushed the boy upwards in front of him, getting both their heads above water. He felt Ahriender's chest, however and it didn't seem as if he was trying to breathe. His mind raced through the other things his friend had shown him, on what to do if someone was drowning.

I need to get him to shore first, he realized. Suddenly the rocky bank seemed to be impossibly far, especially with the weight of his armor pulling him down. But he knew he didn't have time to try and get free of the armor either. His muscles protested as he grit his teeth and started swimming towards the shore and the two people waiting. Sharnellynn was still in the water, swimming towards them, while Dir Ketten waited at the bank, having only waded in to about waist-high. He held a coil of rope in his hand, hefting it. Matner wondered how far he'd have to swim before Dir Ketten's rope would be long enough to reach. The thought gave him hope, however, and he found it in himself to kick even harder.

Sharnellynn was moving towards him as well, wading into the deeper water. He ignored her seemingly otherwise forgotten nakedness and focused on the boy he was trying to keep above water. He was still warm but not breathing. He tried to remember what he was supposed to do to get him breathing again. The first priority, he remembered, was getting the water out of his lungs. He could not do that until he got to the bank.

Sharnellyn got to him about the same time that Dir Ketten got his rope within reach. The rope pulled Matner while Sharnellynn pulled on Ahriender, taking some of his weight and making it easier to hold him up enough. The boy just did not float as well as he should have.

They got him to land, where he flopped to the ground like a bag of wet laundry. Matner kept his head from hitting the ground. Matner took in details in the strange detatchment that came over him as he turned the boy the spill out the water. Ahriender's proportions had the over-lean elven shape, and his hair was quite a bit finer than the human norm.

The beast had snagged him around the waist with teeth that had sunk into soft stomach flesh and rent it with a score of little gashes. None of them seemed very large, although he could not tell how deep they were. All were oozing blood, however. More blood came from what Matner realized was a stab wound in Ahriender's thigh. He realized his sword had gone through the creature on the final stab, and had found a second target all on its own.

"You've stabbed him!" Sharnellynn exploded, moving in and pushing Matner aside. "I told you that would happen!"

"Would you rather I had let the thing take him away?" Matner demanded. "Now I've got to get him breathing again or none of it matters anyway. Get out of my way, I know what to do." He was surprised when she did back away. Dir Ketten turned away from her nakedness, but Matner forced his attention back on reviving Ahriender.

He finished getting the water out, and set him on his back again. Leyeb had practically drilled Matner on the procedure, and he found it coming naturally. He pushed on the boy's chest, making sure air could flow in and out. He leaned close and forced what he could of his own breath into Ahriender, and the little chest rose with the air. Suddenly the boy was coughing and awake and trying feebly to sit up. It had worked.

Matner sat back, relief flooding through him. He was exhausted and drenched, and he just watched as Sharnellynn swooped down on her son, a flurry of concern. Dir Ketten handed out blankets to both of them, and seemed to be going out of his way to not look at the elf as he handed her one. The Nomad almost seemed more relieved when she covered herself with it than he had over Ahriender's breathing. Then Dir Ketten pulled out his bundle of bandages and began helping her clean and dress the wounds.

Ahriender seemed tired out by his experience, but the boy was in surprisingly good spirits despite what had happened. His eyes almost sparkled that he'd had an adventure, rather than worry over what had happened. Sharnellynn, on the other hand, seemed overwrought about the details. After the third time she brought up the sword wound in the boy's thigh, Matner just got up and walked away. He didn't understand why she couldn't just be grateful that her son was alive, instead of browbeating him over his methods of rescuing him.

He went to his bedroll and bag and changed out of his armor and into fresh, dry clothes. he dried his armor off as much as he could with a towel before setting it near the fire to help hasten the drying of the leather straps. He emptied out his boots and set them by the fire as well, changing into his shoes for the moment. Then he spent some time cleaning his sword and scabbard and oiling the blade. He spent some time thinking as he worked, realizing he felt very alone in his current company. He missed the conversations around the fire with the caravan. He suddenly felt as if he had no one to talk to.

Dir Ketten carried Ahriender over and tenderly set him near the fire to better warm him. Sharnellynn came back from the piled up bags with another blanket she wrapped around her son.

"Will it come back?" Sharnellynn worried. She looked at Dir Ketten as if expecting an answer, and he shrugged.

"I don't think so," Matner suggested, not feeling any less alone. She glared at him, still angy.

"What?" he started to ask, then stopped himself.

"Thank you, Matner," Ahriender said. "You saved my life."

"I'm sorry about your leg, Ahriender. Obviously I didn't mean for that to happen."

"I think it was gonna eat me," Ahriender said. They boy looked sore. "I think it was just waiting for the water to kill me first. My whole body hurts--a cut leg I can live with, I think. You were trying to save me, Matner, just like you promised you would. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Ahriender. Try to get some rest, though, alright?" Matner said, impressed with the boy's attitude. He could not help but think of his younger brother, wondering how he would react to such an event. Not as calmly and lucidly, he supposed.

"You need to rest, my son," Sharnellynn told him, tucking the edges of the blanket in tight around him.

"I'll be fine, mother," the boy assured him, all but rolling his eyes. "I think we should -"

"Hush now, Ahriender," she said, putting a finger to his lips. "You need your rest. We'll need to keep moving tomorrow."

"Yes, mother," he sighed.

She smiled at him before returning to her bags again. Matner kept track of her movements from the corner of his eye as she put her clothes back on and then brought their bags back to the fire. Ahriender wasn't asleep yet when she returned, so she unrolled the small carpet she had and sat next to him on it. Then she began singing, softly at first, in the strange Elven language. Her eyes watched Ahriender as she sang and he slowly seemed to drift off to sleep. Matner found himself growing tired as well, and finished up his work cleaning his sword before unrolling his own bedroll.

He listened, silently, as she sang a second song. Both seemed filled with emotion, and he found himself wondering what the songs were about. He wasn't interested in dealing with more of her displeasure, so he didn't ask. Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep as she finished singing and climbed into her own bedroll next to Ahriender. Dir Ketten remained on the first watch, silently writing in his little book.