know what to do; they could stay in the empire or they could make a run for the Elves, but either way they would need to be careful. Sasha knew that Brack and Margaret were doing the same thing for Kovos and Keither. They all needed to leave the town for at least a few years, if not for the rest of their lives. She knew that all of the citizens of Salmont would be more than willing to help them leave; after all, one of their own had been killed. She also knew that if the men hadn’t been royal guards they would have probably been killed by the townspeople, but they were royal guards. That meant you didn’t do anything in the open because that was treason. That also meant a whole lot more people would be killed. Sasha spent the remainder of her day preparing to leave home for possibly the last time in her life, and hoping beyond hope that Legon was safe.
Safe was not how Legon saw himself at the moment. He found himself instead scared out of his mind and laying in mud. The men had been in the forest for hours looking for them. They had finally managed to track them to about ten feet from where Legon lay in the mud. He was right to think they were easy to track; even he hadn’t thought about what he was doing when he was running, so he figured a blind man could see the tracks they’d left.
But the soldiers were having a bit of a hard time now. They knew that the three fugitives were someplace in these woods, but the tracks ended and so they’d been branching out looking for them, and then returning to this place to start over again. One man always stayed behind, giving the others a point of reference. Legon was fine. He had spent many hours stalking deer while out hunting, so his muscles wouldn’t cramp for a long time yet. He knew how to move his weight without being seen.
However, he knew Kovos and Keither couldn’t do this, so he had put them somewhere they could just lay and not have to move. Legon was curled up in the roots of a tree and with the moss he had on himself he just looked like another root. The only problem was that this moss was full of bugs, one in particular that was trying to burrow its way into his back. After a few hours of this he didn’t know what was worse: the thought of being killed like Moleth, or having this bug spend another few hours burrowing into him. The more he thought about it and the more the irritation and pain in his back grew, the nicer the knife looked.
The bug bit into something sensitive. Pain shot through him and he gave an involuntary twitch… the soldier turned and looked right where he was but he didn’t do anything. He could see that the man was looking for whatever had made the noise, but was confused at the lack of anything other than moss-covered roots. Legon heard the sound of a bird landing on a branch above him.
The man relaxed and shook his head. Legon heard him mutter something but couldn’t make it out. He couldn’t see much. He needed to keep his head down, but after listening to the men he figured out who everyone was. The man in their area now was the one who had killed Moleth, which was something that the guard had spent a lot of time laughing about. This made Legon want to stand and fight the man, but he couldn’t. He needed to keep his head in this. He had to get Kovos and Keither out of here and then he had to make sure that his family was ok.
After a bit, the man started over to the tree and Legon felt the fear of knowing that while he might look like a root, if stepped on he wouldn’t feel like a root. The man’s feet stopped on either side of his head. Legon had his body contorted to look more random and sprawled out. He had most of his back against the tree. He wasn’t in a good fighting position. He couldn’t look up without giving away his location. He heard cloth being moved above him… the man was fumbling around with his cloak. He wasn’t making much noise, as if he were slowly and carefully getting something. It had to be a dagger. Probably the same one that killed Moleth.
He heard a soft chuckle. “There you are. You couldn’t hide forever.”
Chapter Eight
“Some say that when something ends, it’s just the beginning. Does this mean that nothing ends? No. Sometimes the end is just that-the end.”
Arkin thought of the years of planning that had just gone out the window. They were early, way too early. It was probably the blasted star that had made them anxious. If only they had waited just two more months, everything would be going according to plan. At least one plan, anyway-he had three. He had always planned for this day but had hoped it would never come. Still, there was excitement coursing through him. The fact that they were here meant the prophecy had to be true, and they weren’t going to stop him, not after this long. All was fine for now. He had time to pack and get ready, but first it was time to report in.
Legon’s nose crinkled again at the pungent smell of urine. He had thought he was a goner. One of those bastards had been standing right above him fumbling around for something that Legon had thought was a knife. But it wasn’t a knife, or anything like a knife. He was only able to lie there motionless as the soldier urinated on the tree he was hiding under. It was humiliating. Nothing got on him, he thought, but still. In truth, he would have laughed if it had happened to someone else, but not him. This wasn’t funny.
He fought back his gag reflex and focused his mind back on the present. They were in a better position than before. The men were heading back down the mountain and would presumably set up camp on the outskirts of town or get a room at the tavern. The tavern was more likely. People in town would be looking to get revenge for Moleth’s death, and a room at the tavern would be easier to defend.
The sound of the men walking through underbrush was getting faint, and Legon thought it would be safe to stand up soon. Kovos and Keither were still motionless, waiting for Legon to make the first move. As soon as the sound of tromping feet faded to silence, he began to stand up. His muscles were reluctant to move after spending the past few hours cramped and motionless. The sun was all but gone and the moon was starting to rise overhead, casting the forest floor in shifting light that made everything blend into one speckled image.
“Get up quietly,” he said in a whisper.
There was the soft rustle of leaves and twigs as Kovos and Keither emerged from their hiding places. Kovos seemed to have developed a limp and was rubbing his leg.
“Leg fell asleep about a half hour in,” he said.
Keither also had a slight limp from the knee he fell on. Legon motioned the boy over. “Come here, Keither. Let me take a look at that knee.”
The boy came over and Legon bent to look. It was hard to see in the dark. He felt the area around the knee gingerly, telling Keither to lift his leg so Legon could move the joint. He rolled Keither’s muddy pants up past the injured knee and began to feel around the joint. He moved it in all directions and was amazed at his knowledge of it. Having his mother as the town healer helped, and being a butcher gave him a working knowledge of anatomy, but the thing that seemed to tie it all together was Arkin’s detailed lessons on anatomy and physiology.
Everything felt like it was in order. There was only slight inflammation of the knee, which suggested that the ligaments were intact. As he ran his fingers over the kneecap Keither started a bit, but the bone felt fine. There was a small gash that would take a few days to heal, but other than some bruising that was the extent of the damage.
“Everything seems to be fine, just try not to hurt it again in the next few days. That was a nasty fall, and you took it like a man. You did well today, Keither.”
A look of pride and astonishment crossed Keither’s face at the praise, and Legon realized that it was probably rare if ever that the boy was told that he did something well. Perhaps Keither was just in need of motivation.
“Do you have any other injuries?”
“No, no I’m fine I think… I don’t know,” said Keither timidly.
“I know what you mean. I don’t know up from down right now,” Legon said as he turned to Kovos, who held
