Kaylia squared her shoulders and took a step forward. “I know you think me a traitor. I know you believe that your actions are justified.” Her tone was imposing. “But ask yourself this…who is it that you serve? Is this the will of the elders? Or is this the will of the King in Angraal? You are pawns in his game of conquest. Surely, at least some of you sense this.” A few elves stirred.
“If this is not so, then why are you traveling with a Vrykol? Do you really believe that creature will allow you to take me to your elders? It will never let that happen. I am to be used as leverage against the one being that can challenge the power of Angraal.” Tears began to well in her eyes, but her voice remained steady. “You have killed your own kin based on a lie. You have led your brothers and sisters to their death in the process. How many of you have died in your attack? Twenty? Thirty?”
Angry murmurs and tearful stares told her that it was far more.
“Fifty-seven,” whispered Freistal. “And your deceptions will not make us believe they died for nothing. You accuse us of being weak. We are the pawns of no one. Not the Reborn King…and not you. While you and your kin have made alliances with the humans and the Gods, we have remained true to our traditions and ways. We have not diluted our blood with that of lesser beings, and we will never do so. The armies you gather against us will fall.”
“Armies?” Kaylia cried. “We have raised no armies. It is Angraalwho raises armies. It is this ‘Reborn King’ that threatens to march. Not us.”
“You lie!” shouted Freistal. “I have seen them. Your ships have been spotted many times by my own eyes. And your war council we attacked will no doubt hasten your plans, now that they know that we are aware of their treachery.”
“You speak nonsense,” said Kaylia. “Your mind has been twisted by the power of the Dark One. Can you not see this? I did not accuse you of weakness before, but I do so now. You have been touched by the power he wields. The Sword of Truth has bent you to his will. Certainly some of your own will remains.”
“I told you to keep her silent,” hissed the voice of the Vrykol, as it came from behind the outlying brush. “Her words are poison. She seeks to deceive you.”
The Vrykol moved to grab Kaylia, but Freistal stepped between them.
“She is our responsibility now,” said Freistal. “You need not concern yourself with her any longer.”
“Fool,” said the Vrykol. “If I were not here, her mate would have already found you, and slaughtered you like sheep.” It took a step forward. “She will remain with me until I am certain we are no longer pursued.”
“You are not master here,” said Freistal. “And she remains with me. I have no fear of any human.”
Freistal and the Vrykol stood mere inches from each other, but neither made a move to draw a weapon. Though his features were hidden, Kaylia knew the Vrykol was scowling with fury.
“Very well,” relented the Vrykol after a very long moment. “She will remain with you…for now.” It spun around and vanished into the forest.
Freistal called two elves to him and commanded them to watch over Kaylia.
“Do not mistake my defense of you as a sign that your words have swayed me,” said Freistal. “I will not see you brought to Angraal, and I believe you are right about one thing. That creature out there has no intention of allowing you to be delivered to our elders.”
Once the party had finished their meal, they packed and started out again, at an even more desperate pace than before. Kaylia repeatedly tried to reach out to Gewey, but found that her bond was being somehow blocked… by the Vrykol, she assumed. She could only hope for a chance to escape.
By midday, Kaylia began to sense further unrest among her captors. The Vrykol made occasional appearances, each time its foul gaze fell on Kaylia, then it disappeared again into the forest. Kaylia could feel the tension rise with each encounter. Clearly the elves found the presence of such an evil creature difficult to bear and were becoming more vocal in their displeasure.
“Why tolerate this?” Kaylia asked Freistal, who was running just behind her. “Nothing good can come from such a being.”
“We are commanded to allow it to be with us,” grumbled Freistal. “And so long as they make no move against us, we shall obey that command.” He shoved her roughly. “So keep moving and mind your tongue.”
Just then the Vrykol appeared ahead of the band and motioned for them to halt.
“What is it?” asked Freistal, clearly annoyed. “Why are we stopping?”
“The elf woman's mate is drawing near. She must come with me,” the Vrykol hissed. His black hand reached out to grab Kaylia.
Freistal jerk Kaylia behind him, drawing his long knife. The ringing of elven steel sliding free could be heard from all directions.
The Vrykol let loose a harsh rasping laugh. “You think to stop me?” It took a step forward, then let out a high, piercing cry. The elves couldn't help but to cover their ears. “Alone I could take her.” he said. “But did you really think my master would send only one servant to guard his prize? You are a pitiful fool.”
Just then, six more Vrykol stepped into view, each holding a long blade.
“You will not be taking her anywhere, demon!” Freistal roared.
Kaylia heard the snap of a bowstring, and the whiz of an arrow. The Vrykol hardly had time to react as the arrow buried itself deep in its chest. The creature stepped back, then pulled the arrow free and tossed it carelessly to the ground. The air grew cold and still as the Vrykol turned to its comrades and slowly nodded. With astounding swiftness, it then spun back around and charged at Kaylia. The elves erupted in response, some rushing at the other six Vrykol, and others to aid Freistal.
Freistal slashed at the Vrykol's neck, but the beast easily blocked the blow with his own blade and brought the hilt up, crashing into the elf's jaw. Freistal staggered back, barely able to keep his feet. Several more arrows pierced the Vrykol's flesh as it brought its blade down attempting to hew the elf in twain. Freistal raised his knife just in time. Sparks flew as the sound of metal on metal reverberated.
Kaylia knew this was her chance to flee. Quickly, she looked at her surroundings. Six Vrykol had engaged the bulk of the company, and though they fought with ferocity, were falling one by one to the wicked swords of their foes. Five elves had joined Freistal in the fight and were driving the Vrykol back, but their blades were useless. Clearly they did not know how to kill the creature. The arrows had ceased, and the elf archers filed in from the forest, blades drawn.
Kaylia turned and ran, bereft of hesitation. The last thing she saw of the battle was Freistal clenching at the Vrykol's blade that had run through his gullet, only a moment before.
She felt anger and regret, but there was no time to dwell on it. She needed to get as far away as possible. The Vrykol had said Gewey was near, but she still couldn't feel where he was through their bond. She hoped that if she got far enough away, the Vrykol’s influence would wane and she would once again feel the reassuring presence of the bond she shared with Gewey. The trees were a blur as she ran faster and faster.
As she focused on her flight, a dark figure appeared a few yards ahead and Kaylia slid to a halt. A Vrykol loomed, sword drawn. Its cloak was shredded from the battle with the elves, but still she could not make out its form beneath the tattered rags. Instinctively, she reached for her knife, only to realize she was unarmed. She looked around for signs of other Vrykol, but there were none. Her legs tensed for a moment, then burst to action with the rush of battle as she ran straight at the creature. This apparently surprised it, and it side-stepped, slightly lowering its blade. Just as Kaylia was in reach, she ducked and slammed her fist into the Vrykol's knee.
It was like hitting iron. She felt pain shoot through her hand and up her arm, but her blow was enough to part the Vrykol's legs wide. Kaylia thrust her body upward burying her shoulder into the beast’s chest, sending it stumbling back.
Kaylia knew she had no hope of defeating the Vrykol without a blade, and trying to disarm it would mean certain death. It was far too strong. Her only hope was to outrun it. But could she? She had seen how fast they could move. This one had caught up with her, even with several minutes head start. Fear gripped her chest, but she fought it back and ran as fast as she could, not bothering to look back. She had unbalanced it, but she knew only for a few seconds at best. “I must move faster,” she thought.
She had only run a few yards when she felt something hard strike the back of her head. She tried to keep her feet, but felt herself losing consciousness and tumbling hard to the ground. The world began to turn dark as she heard the footfalls of the Vrykol approaching and the hiss of its foul breath. She wanted to cry out, but the light faded from her vision, as the blow to her head overcame her.
