Chapter 19: Encounter in the Forest

By midmorning the following day, Makareta and I are back on the north shore with all the supplies from the island safely transported across. The news from the two groups sent to recover the mules is less encouraging. None of three mules swept into the river made it to either bank before succumbing to the cold waters. The body of one eventually washed up on the north bank, and the salvageable remains of the supplies the mule carried have been recovered. The other two mules sank below the surface in a deep channel and no trace of them has been found.

I tell Cassandra what Makareta told me about the elves escape from Lord Graves property while we are waiting to resume our journey. I also mention that during the escape, Lord Graves and his guards were killed. Cassandra seems less shocked than I was at the news of elves killing Thurnian men.

“Elves hunt and kill animals for food,” says Cassandra. “Most elves are skilful with weapons, so it only needs enough provocation for them to use those weapons on a man.”

“Yes, I can see that now. It just didn’t occur to me before Makareta told me. What about Lord Graves? Do you know anything about him?”

“If he is the man I think you are describing, then Sidney Graves was no lord. He was exiled from Thurn city after he tried to embezzle state money. He was lucky not to have been executed years ago. I suspect these business associates you mention are nothing more than his henchmen and sycophants.”

In a city where corruption and embezzlement are a way of life, Sidney Graves must have exceeded the accepted norms of dishonesty by a comfortable margin. His cruel treatment of Akenehi and the other elves who escaped probably confirms that Cassandra and I are talking about the same person.

“If that’s so, then I can’t see them approaching the emperor for justice,” I suggest.

“Neither can I,” replies Cassandra. “Nor can I see his associates troubling themselves chasing a handful of escaped elves when they have scores still enslaved in their mines and farms. More likely they will simply divide up Graves’ fiefdom between themselves and carry on.”

Cassandra and I share our thoughts with Akenehi and Makareta. While our news doesn’t remove Akenehi’s concern entirely, it at least means she doesn’t order more extensive searches of the riverbank for the lost mules.

By midday we are ready to resume our journey north. As before, Makareta and two adolescent elves act as trailblazers, while the rest of us take turns in guiding the mules and carrying the six infants who are too young to walk. I soon lose my sense of direction in the gloom of the dense forest around us. The occasional glimpse of a tree’s upper branches in the sunlight are my only guide as to our direction. The ground is generally level with only gentle rises and falls. Fortunately the undergrowth is sparse as insufficient sunlight penetrates the tree canopy for plants to thrive at ground level. While there are plenty of birds and other tree dwelling animals, there are fortunately no signs of bears or wolves this deep into the forest.

Makareta, or one of the adolescent elves, climbs a tree to scout our surroundings each time we stop for a rest and a change of duties. Akenehi is told what the scout sees, but she doesn’t share that knowledge with the rest of us. While I would like to know what is going on, the elves in our commune are content to remain in ignorance.

We continue through the forest for the next five days, stopping each night by one of the numerous streams. Despite it only being early spring, there are edible berries and nuts to be found on some of the trees. We only need to use our carried food supplies to provide variety in our diet. The mules are less fortunate, and finding enough fodder for them is becoming problematic.

Each day, our journey resumes as soon as there is enough daylight, and continues until late in the day. It’s a gruelling regime that is starting to exhaust the younger elves. Our rest breaks last only a long as it takes for one of the elves to climb to a tree top and report back to Akenehi. I’ve no idea how far we have travelled since the river crossing. On our sixth day after crossing the river we find a place to camp as evening approaches.

“We shall camp here overnight,” says Akenehi. “Stay close to the stream. We haven’t seen any traces of dangerous animals for the last couple of days, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any nearby. The scent of the mules will attract any predators towards us.”

Even though just under half of our commune are infants or preadolescent elves, Akenehi makes surprisingly few allowances for their youth. The older preadolescents even take their turn at standing watch overnight. It’s one such young elf who alerts us all to the approach of a pack of wolves in the middle of the night. I can’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary, but Akenehi quickly confirms what the sharp hearing of our sentry has detected.

Each elf who is tall enough to carry a spear takes up her position in a protective circle around the rest of us. Drew, Seamus, Cassandra, Egbertha and I are tasked with protecting the infants and those elves too young to defend themselves. Unfortunately several of our spare spears were lost during the river crossing. Only Drew and Seamus have spears. Cassandra, Egbertha and I must content ourselves with knives and a few fiery brands that we can rescue from our camp fire.

By the time I can hear the approaching wolves, the Elf Maidens have collectively determined that it is a large pack of about twenty wolves. The usual elven tactic when facing a wolf pack requires two groups of defenders; one to protect those that need protecting, and a second group to drive off the wolves. The elves natural body odour is a potent nonlethal weapon, but among the strong smells of the forest, the elves need to operate in small groups. But with a pack of twenty wolves, the twentysix armed elves don’t have sufficient numbers to form more than a token second group.

“Release the mules,” orders Akenehi to two of the adolescent elves. “If any of the wolves get past us, it will be better for us to lose the mules than any of us.”

We quickly stack some of the supplies into a small redoubt inside which Cassandra, Egbertha and the six infants take shelter. Fortunately the wolves don’t seem to be in a hurry to attack, and they seem content to watch us from a distance.

“Why don’t they attack?” asks Seamus, who has probably never seen elves tackle a pack of wolves before.

“They must have come across elves before,” I say, dismissing the idea that it is a previous encounter with Thurnians that is causing a sudden hesitation in the wolves attack.

No Thurnian military expedition has been sent this far north, and Thurnian hunters rarely operate in groups larger than four men. Any deterrent odour from a previous encounter with Thurnians would likely be from men soiling their pants. The wolves seem reluctant to attack us, but they equally show no sign of leaving us alone.

The impasse between the wolves and our commune last for several minutes. Then, much to everyone’s surprise, the wolves are joined by four humans. From this distance I can’t see whether they are Thurnian or elven. Their hooded cloaks disguise both their race and their gender.