the range.
When he emerged onto a high mountain ledge, coming around the shoulder of a looming peak, he was not surprised to see the griffon of the flying elf tethered in the valley beyond. A saddle of supple leather, studded with gold and gemstones, covered the creature's back, and the beast's hawklike face remained fixed on a scene below.
Next Kagonos saw the House Elf creeping downward. The intrusive rider was a hunter, to judge from his bow and arrows, but a wealthy one-perhaps even a noble. He wore pants of golden silk and gleaming black boots, with a tunic of bright white wool. The fellow's bow was strapped across his back, and in his hand he bore a long- shafted axe with a blade of silvery steel. Carefully the hunter descended, looking toward something in a dip of the mountainside below.
Even before the wild elf stepped forward, he guessed the nature of the House Elf's quarry.
Then Kagonos saw the white fur of the Grandfather Ram, showing in stark contrast to the gray rocks. From a hundred paces away Kagonos could see the crimson stain blotting the animal's heaving flank. The feathered shaft of an elven arrow jutted upward from the wound.
Springing forward, Kagonos took vague note of the ram's proud head, flanked by its triple-spiraled horns. The animal kicked its feet, its long tongue trailing from its mouth as it labored for breath. The elven hunter was barely a dozen paces away, advancing with the axe upraised, fully focused on his prey.
The griffon shrieked a warning-the sound something like an eagle's cry, but bellowed with the force of a roaring lion. Immediately the golden-haired elf spun, his blue eyes flashing as he spied the naked figure lunging toward him.
'Hold, Wild Elf!' shouted the warrior.
Kagonos slowed his advance to a walk, studying the other. The House Elf hunter wore a steel breastplate and carried a small dagger in his left hand. In the right he brandished a long-bladed axe-a mighty weapon. Emblazoned on his armor was a golden shield marked with the crossed claws of a rampant griffon.
'Leave the ram. Go.' Kagonos spoke sharply, without considering the possibility that he would not be obeyed.
The House Elf threw back his head and laughed, a mocking, bitter sound. 'Leave? This is a trophy more splendid than any I have seen. I intend to take this head, use it as my standard!'
The Elderwild did not reply, though he continued his measured advance. He didn't understand what the other meant about a standard, but Kagonos knew that a great wrong was being enacted before him.
'Stop there. Come no closer!' barked the golden-haired elf.
'Who are you?' Kagonos asked, halting ten paces away.
'I am called Quithas Griffontamer! Remember that name, savage-I sit at the right hand of Silvanos, and when the great war comes it will be I who commands his armies, who defeats the ogres and their dragon-spawn allies!'
'Leave the ram, Quithas Griffontamer. He is not your trophy.'
Quithas laughed again. 'Do you intend to stop me? A naked boy, no weapon, no armor? I do not wish to kill vou, Wild Elf, but if you try to claim my rightful prey, I shall.'
Kagonos moved with the quickness of thought. His sleek body flew toward the other elf, then tumbled to the t' RA(30nCAnCЂ Cost histories ground as the keen axe blade whooshed through the air above him. The wild elf hit the hunter hard, both of them going down in a tangle of limbs. Kagonos grunted as the metal hilt of the dagger smashed against his forehead, but the fury of his onslaught sustained him. He threw his fist into Quithas's flank, avoiding the metal breastplate, driving the breath from the House Elf's lungs. Staggered by the impact, the hunter tumbled sideways across the loose rock of the mountainside.
The axe skidded away, and Kagonos leapt forward, stomping one foot on the weapon's long wooden shaft. Up the mountainside, the griffon shrieked in agitation, but the tether prevented it coming to its master's aid. Slowly, precisely, the wild elf reached down and picked up the axe. The weapon was surprisingly heavy, though the edge had been honed to a razor's sharpness. Holding it upward, brandishing it toward the elf who still sprawled, speechless, on the ground, Kagonos trembled under the onslaught of an almost uncontrollable hatred.
'This is a bad thing you have done, to hurt the Grandfather Ram. You said that I could not stop you, for I had no weapon. Now I have a weapon, Quithas Griffontamer, and I send you away.' The wild elf reached forward and snatched the arrows from the other's quiver. Contemptuously he snapped them, casting the broken pieces at the House Elf's feet. 'Mount your animal and fly, or I shall kill you.'
Sputtering in fury, his eyes flashing a hatred that matched Kagonos's, Quithas nonetheless scrambled backward, rising to his feet beyond the range of the axe.
'Give me my weapon!' he demanded harshly. 'It is more precious than you can know-forged by the master smiths, enchanted by Silvanos himself!'
'The axe shall be my trophy!' retorted the wild elf, tautly. 'Now leave, before I claim your head as well!'
The House Elf's eyes flared, burning into Kagonos like a physical assault. Full of menace, the Elderwild raised the weapon, his own eyes narrowing as he watched Quithas back toward the prancing, agitated griffon. The House Elf spoke no further as he climbed onto his gilded saddle, seized his reins, and rode the beast's powerful spring into the sky.
Kagonos watched until the flying creature disappeared over the rim of a nearby mountain. Then he turned to the Grandfather Ram and knelt beside the stricken creature's head. His heart nearly burst with sorrow as he saw the growing crimson stain on that glorious white fur, saw the pleading expression in the gold-flecked eyes, the tongue lolling carelessly on the rocks.
'Water. Bring me water.'
Kagonos blinked, then nodded. He had leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the stream at the base of the slope before it fully dawned on him that the animal had spoken. When he reached that clear brook, he knelt and, lacking any vessel, filled his mouth from the cool, sparkling flow. Racing back to the ram, he allowed the water to trickle over the animal's tongue, watching in wonderment as a trace of luster returned to the eyes.
'Shelter… we must find shelter. There is… a cave nearby. Carry me there.'
The Grandfather Ram spoke haltingly, but Kagonos sensed this was due to the creature's wounds more than to any awkwardness with speech. The voice bore a suggestion of deep resonance and timbre, wrapped richly around his sparely chosen words.
The elf knew that the creature must weigh several hundred pounds, but Kagonos nevertheless reached under the ram and gently eased it upward, careful not to prod the flesh around the arrow. Surprisingly, he lifted the animal with ease. Following the ram's directions, he soon carried it to a small niche in the rocky mountainside-a*cave' only in the loosest sense of the word.
The arrow… can you remove it from my side?'
Kagonos worked the missile gingerly, wincing every time the ram grunted in pain, but eventually he pulled it free of the deep wound.
'It's out, Grandfather. Rest now-do you need more water?'
The ram shook its head. 'That's better. I fear some enchantment, some lethal elixir was laid upon the arrowhead-else it would not have felled me so readily.'
With a grunting effort, the mountain sheep rolled onto its stomach, legs curled underneath. Already the bleeding from the arrow-wound had slowed to a trickle, and the animal's breathing grew stronger, more regular.
But was it an animal at all?
'I have seen you before, Pathfinder,' spoke the sheep. This time those luminous eyes-the orbs that twice before had touched Kagonos from mountainous heights- seemed to penetrate through to the wild elf's soul, and he could only nod at the words.
'You travel the mountains with the grace of one who belongs here. You seek the trails, and you discover them- places where neither elf nor man, not even ogre, have trod before. You are a worthy chieftain of the Elderwild.'
'I thank you, Grandfather-but I am no chieftain. Indeed, there are some in my tribe who think me mad, others who wait only for the time I depart my people and go to live in the hills. Perhaps my true worth may be measured in the tending of you. Can you tell me who you are?'
