Chapter 12

The spring thaw had begun in earnest. Pardin and Adray stayed away from the snow packs high on the mountain ridges. Three resounding crashes of tons of snow and ice in the last week had made everyone wary of the snowmelt. Otherwise, the warmth of the early spring was a welcome respite from the biting winds of winter.

Adray had spoken wistfully on several occasions of hiring dwarves to dig a geothermal tap for a hot tub for the next winter. Pardin had listened dutifully but without comment. He could only wish they would be safely tucked away in the caretaker's cabin next winter.

In his head he was already calculating how many days of peace he had left. Early spring meant the lord's men were already on the road seeking conscripts for the spring/summer offensive. They were coming. Deep down in his gut, he knew they were coming. While the tunnel offered instant relief from his troubles, he had made a pledge to the wolf. In much the same way Adray was bound to him, Pardin knew he was bound to that pledge. The tunnel's offered escape was an illusion to him.

Pardin finished the morning with a practice bout with Adray and her battle axe under the supervision of Shmor. He was washing up for a midday meal when fairies came rushing through the trees below sounding the alarm.

"Humans are coming! Humans are coming!" they said as they zipped inside.

About a dozen of the fairies were pregnant and showing. Pardin had wanted to send them back through the tunnel for their own safety but Adray and Fuster were both adamantly opposed to his suggestion. Fuster because she was the madam of her flock and Adray because she believed in the safety of their little plot with trolls next door and wolves in the woods. Pardin worried because neither of them had dealt with a mob of humans.

The time for worry was over and the time of action had begun. Pardin slipped back into his shirt and tied his sword's sheath around his waist. Adray stepped out onto the porch with her battle axe. She let the head rest on the wood floor while balancing the end of the shaft in her right hand. The trolls were nowhere to be seen but Pardin knew they were near. As he drew close to Adray, several pods of fairies buzzed past them and slipped into the woods in different directions.

Pardin heard the grousing of human voices before he saw them emerge from the trail. They must have thought of themselves as highly secure to move with such lack of stealth and Pardin hoped to turn that mistake to his advantage. He kept his sword hand loose and relaxed.

"Oh ho," a man called out as he came into view. "What do we have here?

There were nine more men walking up the path behind the first. They were not well dressed and they carried a motley collection of weapons on their backs or on their belts. A few were large and most of them were of average size and height. None of them looked particularly wholesome.

"We had heard that some conscripts were shirking their duty to lord and land by hiding in the mountains. What do we find but another stout lad running away from his duty," the man said.

"I am the caretaker of the northern tunnel," Pardin said. "What is it that you want?"

"Oo, a caretaker," the speaker said to the man next to him. "It sounds like an important job. Too bad Lord Hinderblast doesn't need a caretaker."

At that moment, Adray stepped out of the shadows of the porch and stared down at the assembled men. "Are you calling my husband a liar?"

"Sonofa..." one of the men exclaimed.

"She's a fucking elf," another said.

Adray was unmoved by their comments as she hoisted her battle axe. "Answer the question, human. Are you calling my husband a liar?"

The speaker seemed to be taken aback by the confrontation. His eyes were drawn to the axe and back to her face several times. Finally he came to a decision. "Seeing as there are ten of us and only two of you, calling your husband a fucking liar doesn't make for much a threat to my person."

"Blessed be the magic, the air suddenly smells most foul," Shmor said, coming around the corner. In his right hand was an inhumanly large mace with studs around the head of it. Skor was walking alongside him with a larger weapon, a war hammer.

She took a whiff. "Yes, some of these humans smell most foul. Even an orc would be hard pressed not to hold his nose. No wonder the magic is so scarce in this land. Look at the scavenging beings that are given leave to run around with tiny little pointy things in their hands. It breaks your heart."

They approached closer to the gang of men. Skor pointed to one man with greasy black hair down to his shoulders. The man had a thin mustache that turned downward at the corners of his mouth and to meet a patch of hair growing on his chin. "Do you smell that one, Shmor?"

Shmor took another long snort and nodded his head.

"He's got the smell of blood and murder on him," Skor said. "Male to be sure and even female I smell." She took another sniff. "This one has slain children. I can smell their last fear upon his clothes and upon his hands."

"Lies!" the man said, reaching for his sword.

Skor was swifter. In the time it takes to snap one's fingers, she was behind the accused and had placed her large hand over his head. With a turn of her wrist, she snapped his head to the side, severing the skull from the spine.

"O dear," Skor said. "Humans look so swarthy and yet they are so fragile."