Of Gods and Elves - By Brian D. Anderson Page 0,25

but I sensed no deception.”

“Then we should keep to our plan,” said Millet. “It's several hours until dawn, so we should try and sleep. Maybell can be told of this in the morning.”

Malstisos nodded in agreement and drew his blanket tightly around him. Sleep came slowly and his dreams were troubled.

The morning brought the smell of crisp bacon and fresh bread. Gerald was busy setting the table and humming.

Millet was first to rise and helped with breakfast. At first, Gerald protested but soon realized Millet wasn't one to be deterred. The duo had the table prepared a full ten minutes before Malstisos and Maybell stirred. Jacob was last to awaken.

“Things are in order from the smell of it.” Maybell yawned and stretched. She looked over to Malstisos who was just waking up. “I always imagined elves to be early risers.”

“My sleep was troubled... and eventful,” he replied. “But we'll discuss it after breakfast.”

About halfway through their meal, Gerald excused himself and left them alone at the table. Malstisos informed Maybell and Jacob of his dream experience.

“Amazing,” remarked Maybell. “Well, I'm happy that you'll be met in Baltria.”

“I'm not,” Jacob growled. “I have no need of my father, and have no intention of seeing him.”

“If you intend to go to Baltria, you won't have much of a choice,” stated Millet.

“According to Malstisos he will certainly be there, so you had better get used to the idea.”

Jacob folded his arms. “He had better stay out of my way.”

“Calm yourself,” said Malstisos. “First you must arrive at your destination, and that may not be easy.”

“We'll get there,” said Jacob. “If I have to kill every soldier I see on the way.”

“Young man, you would do well to take Millet's lead,” said Maybell. “He has seen much more of the world than you. If getting to Baltria means saving your mother, then you'd do well to keep your mouth shut, and your eyes and ears open.”

Jacob glared at Maybell but could find no words to reply.

“I do not think you should take time to speak to the Oracle when we arrive in Manisalia,” said Malstisos.

Millet nodded. “I agree. In fact, I would have you avoid the city entirely if it's possible.”

“I'm sure I can find a way around if need be,” said Malstisos. “But, I intend to leave you with the remainder of the provisions. Sister Maybell and I will need to resupply once you're away. There is no way we can avoid the city, at least for a few hours.”

“Good,” said Maybell. “And I would like to consult the Oracle--if she's still there.”

The front door opened and Gerald entered, smiling. “I see you've nearly finished. I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Very much.” Maybell returned the smile. The rest nodded in agreement.

“I've readied your horses,” said the boy. “I'll bring them 'round front whenever you'd like.”

“We'll be leaving shortly,” said Millet. “You can bring them now.” Gerald nodded and dashed off.

They gathered their belongings and filed out the front door. As promised, Gerald had saddled their horses and had them lined up a few feet away. Gerald bowed to each in turn, handing them a cloth wrapped around a piece of roast lamb and a loaf of bread, thanking them for their kind donation. Maybell embraced the lad tightly and whispered into his ear. Gerald smiled sadly, turned and entered the hospice.

Travel that day was slow and miserable. By noon, the wind howled through the trees and the sky filled with clouds that promised snow.

Malstisos stopped periodically to check for signs of pursuit but found none.

“I think perhaps whatever that creature was, he must have been alone,” said Malstisos during one of their stops. “That is not to say that more are not waiting for us ahead.”

Millet shivered at the thought. The monster’s distorted features still burned in his mind.

“Let them come,” boasted Jacob, “I don't fear them.”

Malstisos snorted loudly. “Then you're a fool. Fear may keep you alive. You are no warrior. That I can clearly see. If you encounter one of them, you should run if you can.”

Jacob leaped from his horse and drew his sword. “I have had enough of your insults, elf.”

Malstisos stared down at the boy for a moment, then casually slipped out of the saddle. “Come then,” he said. “Let us see what you're made of.” He didn't bother to draw his blade.

Jacob's mouth grew into a malevolent grin. In an instant, he lashed out at the elf, his blade seeking flesh, but it found only cold, winter air.