Of Gods and Elves - By Brian D. Anderson Page 0,53

a stern look that told him there would be no argument.

“Can you travel?” asked Jericho.

“Yes.” Haldrontis spoke with fierce determination. “And we will fight if need be.”

Jericho turned to one of the knights. “Give him a dagger.” The knight obeyed and Jericho gave Stintos a dagger from his own belt. “I wish I could arm you better...”

“This will be fine,” said Stintos. “An elf with a dagger is a thing to be feared.”

The elves struggled to their feet.

“What was that thing?” asked Selena. “It called itself Vrykol.”

“I'm not certain,” Haldrontis replied. “But they fight like they are possessed. And the only way I know to kill them is to remove their head.” He looked at the smoking corpses. “And it would seem they do not like fire either.”

The entire group erupted in uneasy laughter.

“Let us go,” said Selena, still chuckling. “It's many miles to Althetas.”

Despite their injuries, the elves easily kept pace. By the time dawn pierced the darkness, they had traveled many miles. To everyone’s relief, there was no sign of pursuit.

Chapter Fourteen

Several days had passed since Millet and Jacob parted with Malstisos, Maybell, and the caravan. In Manisalia, Maybell discovered that the Oracle had fled more than a year before, and no one knew where she had gone.

Malstisos had arranged for Maybell to have her own tent, and they purchased enough provisions to last the journey. It was a bit more difficult to procure horses and a wagon, but thanks to Maybell's remarkable bargaining skills, they managed it.

Though it was bitter cold, the blizzard had not reached far west and the roads were clear after only a few days. The nights brought cheer and laughter as Maybell and Malstisos made friends among the merchants. Maybell instructed the men in manners, and the women in how to keep a man in his place. Soon she became viewed as a sort of caravan elder, settling disputes and advising the merchant leaders.

Malstisos spent a great deal of his time with Grentos and Vadnaltis, exchanging stories and news from their tribes. Maybell checked in on them from time to time, but her new-found duties kept her busy.

On the eighth night, Maybell was preparing for bed when Malstisos came to her tent, looking worried and anxious.

“What is it?” asked Maybell.

Malstisos' lips pressed tight and his brow furled. “I fear my kinsmen are not what they seem.”

Maybell's back stiffened. “How do you mean?”

Malstisos knelt near the entrance to the tent and peered out. “First of all, they are seekers.”

Maybell looked confused. “Why is that odd?”

“Because seekers do not hide who they are,” he explained. “And they have attempted to mask what they are from me.”

“Is that all?” asked Maybell. “There could be any number of reasons for that.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “And if it were only that, I wouldn't be as concerned. Seekers can be an odd bunch, and the ways of my kin in the steppes are different. But these two have been probing me for information, the kind that can only be for one purpose. And they have underestimated me. I am not a seeker, but I am a worthy diplomat. Much more so than either of them. I know when I am being manipulated.”

Maybell tensed. She knew how vulnerable they were. “What do they want to know?” she whispered, suddenly afraid that they were being spied on.

“The identity of allies that are hiding their sympathies, the location of Valshara and its strength... things of that nature.” He fingered the knife on his belt. “The thing is, if they had asked me directly, I wouldn't have become suspicious, but they hid their questions behind other, seemingly innocent questions. Their poor attempt and subterfuge has made it clear to me that they are not what they seem.”

“Should we run?”

Malstisos shook his head. “No. We are better off remaining with the caravan, for now. I do not think the humans are aware of their deception, and I doubt they will want to draw attention to themselves so far from home. If we run, we are vulnerable. They are seekers. They will hunt us down and kill us both.”

Maybell's eyes brightened. “I know what to do.” She stood and began to pace the tent. “We will be near Farmington in two days. I have friends there that will give us shelter. We should say that we need to pick up extra supplies, then take refuge.”

“Good plan,” said Malstisos, nodding in agreement. “It is unlikely they will openly attack a human village. Until then, behave normally. I