Meadow Country

Lontel dropped from the tree. He joined Davlena gathering the nuts he had shaken from the branches. Both loaded their nearly empty packs.

"Arlin was right about all of the trees being nut trees," Davlena said as she cracked open the shell of one and pulled the meat from it.

Lontel laughed. "He didn’t mention most of them would either not be bearing at this time or too green to eat, though." Davlena shrugged. She didn’t need to tell Lontel that such a minor inconvenience was of no consequence to Arlin. Nothing had ruffled the wizard.

Lontel began helping Davlena on with her pack when she suddenly fell against him. He grabbed her before she could slip to the ground. Gently he sat her against the tree. Her face was set in a hard frown. Sweat formed and trickled down her face.

"What’s wrong?" Lontel asked anxiously.

"Oberon," she whispered raggedly as she tried to control her shallow, gasping breath. Lontel quickly looked around. He couldn’t see anything in the surrounding country but scattered trees.

"I don’t see him," Lontel said as he knelt beside her again.

Davlena regained some of her composure. "He has cast another control spell over me. It isn’t as strong as the others. This chase must be taxing his powers as much as ours. I can control the urge to go to him, but I can’t force myself to flee him. My body is stalemated between my will and his magic."

"Do you mean you can’t walk?" Lontel practically cried. Davlena smiled weakly. Lontel plopped down beside her. He sighed unhappily. Now what was he going to do? He couldn’t carry her. She didn’t weigh much, but she weighed more than he could handle for a very long distance. If Arlin’s description of the country they had to travel was anywhere close to being accurate, they still had more than half of their journey ahead of them.

"You can leave me," Davlena said. "All I ask is that you kill me first. I can’t stand the thought of becoming a willing pawn of Oberon’s." Lontel looked at the helpless elf. She couldn’t even turn her head to meet his gaze. He was glad because he didn’t want her to see the tears welling out of his eyes.

Lontel took a deep breath and stood. "I can’t leave you, and I certainly can’t kill you." He walked around the tree studying it. It has two branches that would work. He also had the two cloaks Arlin had given him and the twine. No doubt it would be crude, but he could make one. Setting his jaw, Lontel shimmied up the tree again.

When he got to the two branches he unsheathed Wizbane and stared once more at the green metal of the sword. It seemed to glow even in the sunlight of day. "Too bad it isn’t an axe," he thought as he swung with all of his might to begin chopping through the stout limb. The sword whined through the air and sliced easily through the limb, so easily the force of his swing threw him off balance and he fell. Limbs lashed him and he tumbled to the ground cursing. He felt the impact of hitting, then the world went black.

Lontel opened his eyes. Stars twinkled at him. Leaves rustled somewhere. A chill ran through him. He started to rise, and a sharp pain shot through his right arm. He gasped at the sudden agony.

"Lontel?" Davlena called. Lontel looked around in the gloom. Why was it so dark? "Lontel?"

"Yes," he answered.

Davlena sighed. "I thought the fall had killed you."

"What fall?"

"Your fall out of the tree. You climbed it for some reason. I think you were cutting a limb."

"Oh, yes," Lontel said. He was going to cut two limbs to make a travois. Wizbane sliced through the limb so easily he had been thrown off balance. He had fallen, and the fall must have knocked him out.

Gently he eased himself up with his left arm. He saw a green glow not too far away. He grabbed Wizbane and sheathed it. He moved his right arm. It worked well enough. Hopefully, he had just bruised it. He would have to wait until morning to find out because he was too tired to do anything but sleep.

He dug the cloaks out of the packs, covered Davlena with one, then covered himself with the other and soon fell asleep next to her. The next morning his throbbing arm woke him. Lontel tested the arm and found it worked. It was just badly bruised from him falling on it.

While Davlena slept, he worked his way back into the tree and cut his second limb. In an hour he had the travois made. He picked up Davlena and started carrying her to her new riding accommodation. The movement woke her.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked sleepily.

"To your coach, mistress," Lontel said as humbly as he could.

"A coach?" Davlena said perplexed.

"Well, not really, but the closest thing you will find in this country." Lontel laid her onto the travois and hefted one end. He adjusted the straps made from their packs onto his shoulders and began walking. Behind him the travois scraped through the ground. Davlena gasped as she bounced along with Lontel’s strides.

In less than an hour Lontel had to stop. His shoulder ached terribly. The travois hadn’t been as hard to pull as he had expected, but the constant pressure on his shoulders was killing him. Not only that, but his injured arm throbbed unceasingly.

"I’m too heavy," Davlena sighed.

Lontel laughed. "No, I’m just not used to this sort of work. I am more used to carrying a small purse of gold on my hip." He strapped into the travois again and began walking. He made it more than an hour then.

His shoulders quit complaining and turned into dull aches. Even his arm quit throbbing quite so badly. Unfortunately, his legs felt obligated to be heard. His shins felt like they had piercing needles stabbed into them with each step. Again he lowered the travois. He sat beside Davlena and began cracking nuts to get his mind off his tired, complaining body. He fed her until she told him she could eat no more. He then devoured all of that remained.

Just before nightfall Lontel stopped at a tree full of nuts. He sat next to Davlena and stared over the country they had traveled. He didn’t know whether he should cheer because he had gone all day despite all of his aches or cry because he didn’t have a muscle that wasn’t sore. He decided either would take too much energy, so he just stared into the distance. His eyes slowly closed.

He woke the next morning with the sun warming his face. He was snuggled next to Davlena with his arm over her. He felt the slow rise and fall of her chest. Quietly he got up stifling most of the moans fighting to escape. He stretched his stiff body as best he could. After that he gathered enough nuts to make them a decent breakfast with some left over for the trail.

"How are you?" he asked when he woke Davlena.

"Tired," she answered. "Oberon is working on me constantly. His spell isn’t getting any stronger, though, so I think I will be able to withstand it." She ate a few nuts and gratefully accepted the water offered. "How are you?"

"I haven’t felt worse in years," Lontel laughed. "But I have never had such beautiful, friendly company for so long, either."

Davlena smiled. "Thank you, kind sir."

For five days they advanced slowly towards their immediate goal, Sprite’s Forest. Lontel’s shoulders went from raw slabs to callused muscle. His legs quit hurting as they strengthened to meet the demands no facing them. The swelling in his arm dropped to be replaced by the ugly yellow-brown of a healing bruise. His hopes dropped with each passing day, though, because Davlena seemed to be slipping further under Oberon’s spell. She hadn’t talked to him for two days. She hadn’t accepted any food or water for the last day. Twice she had even attempted to rise only to fall again. Lontel knew it was Oberon willing her to join him. He bound her securely to the travois that night. She struggled with them briefly several times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks as he listened to her struggles. Lontel felt so helpless. He had tried everything he could think of to help her, but to no avail. There wasn’t anything he could do. When she finally quit struggling for the last time, He lay down beside her and stroked her hair tenderly. He sang her a lullaby in a broken voice.

Suddenly he heard a twig snap and what sounded like muffled cursing. He stopped singing and listened intently. After a few moments he thought he heard slow, cautious footsteps approaching. Slowly he pulled Wizbane from its scabbard. As the glowing sword emerged, the footsteps stopped.

As he pulled out his sword, Lontel could see nothing in the black night, but when Wizbane was free of its confinement completely, Lontel could instantly see a huge manlike creature glowing in the night. It was hidden behind a tree. Not only that, but it was behind him! How could he see it? He stared at his sword.

Could it be giving him some sort of power? He saw the creature was unsure, so Lontel decided to chance sheathing Wizbane for a moment. As he began to put the sword into its scabbard the image of the intruder disappeared. Quickly Lontel pulled out the sword again. He saw it was creeping closer.

As it approached, Lontel could make out its definition better. It stood at least eight feet high and carried a huge war axe and large shield. It wore ragged pants, and all of its exposed body was covered by coarse, dark hair. Its ears were large and pointed on the top and bottom. Its teeth looked small and pointed.

It suddenly charged and shrieked loudly. Lontel sprang to his feet to meet the charge. He stood his ground boldly until the last second. When the monster got close and he saw how it towered over him, fear raced through Lontel’s veins. He sprinted away from it into the night. The giant shrieked again as it lumbered after him. Lontel tripped over an exposed root and fell onto his face. His nose crunched and tears burst from his eyes. He rolled just in time to see the grinning beast standing over him swinging down with its axe. Lontel rolled again and felt the ground shake as the axe slammed into it. The giant grunted as it yanked the axe out of the ground. Lontel scrambled away and got to his feet. He was shaking badly when the giant screamed again and charged. He gritted his teeth and prepared to get bowled over by the lumbering monster.

It swung it axe. Lontel jumped out of the way. He caught the return swing with Wizbane. The impact sent him sprawling. Again he scrambled to his feet. Only then did he see that a large chunk of the giant’s axe was gone. It swung again.

Lontel ducked under the blow and tried to chop at its stomach. The giant caught the blow with its shield. It bellowed in agony as Wizbane cut through the shield and sliced its arm nearly off.

"Now you die worm!" it roared in a deep bass voice. Lontel almost fell to his watery knees to pray for mercy, but instead went sprawling as he caught another crushing blow from the axe. He hit and rolled as the axe whumped into the ground where he first hit. He rose to his knees and ducked under a swiping blow. Frantically he swung out with Wizbane at the giant’s feet. He hit an ankle and the sword cleanly sliced off the foot.

Blood spurt from severed arteries. Howling in pain, the giant fell to the ground clutching at the stump where his right foot had been. Quickly Lontel sprang on his opponent and chopped open its chest. He watched mesmerized as it exposed heart pumped huge gouts of blood high into the air.

Lontel staggered back towards Davlena. He couldn’t find her for hours as he stumbled around in the dark. Finally, he stubbed his foot into the travois and fell over her body. Shaking from the adrenaline and chill of fear, he cuddled next to her and fell into a fitful sleep.

Every small noise brought him to his feet with a gasp. After endless hours of waiting, the sun finally brightened the land. As soon as it was light enough to see, Lontel harnessed himself into the travois straps and started away from the dead giant.

He moved, as one possessed for hours, ignoring the pain of his body. Only at noon did he finally stop to rest his cramping legs. He stopped under a nut tree and flopped down beside Davlena. He had just started to doze when he heard giggling overhead.

Quickly Lontel looked up. Sitting in the lower branches of the tree were tiny, winged people. They twittered and fluttered their wings when Lontel saw them. He smiled at their cute antics. They giggled back, and then one picked a nut and threw it at him. It barely missed. Another grabbed a nut and threw it. Lontel had to dodge that one. Soon they were all throwing nuts at him. They giggled even harder when some found their mark.

"Hey, quit that!" Lontel yelled. His anger made the tiny people giggle even harder and spurred them to throw even more. His anger getting the better of him, Lontel ignored the nuts pelting him gathered handfuls and began throwing them back. These creatures were larger than the rats of Sepultha, and they weren’t nearly as quick. He hit one, and it yelped. The others twittered gaily at their friend’s pain.

Soon nuts were flying back and forth. Lontel saw one of the little creatures struggling with a particularly stubborn nut. He threw a nut, and the projectile smacked against its head. Instantly it slumped and fell to the ground. Everyone froze. Silence blanketed the area. For an instant Lontel stared at the tiny, lifeless body, then he rushed to it and gently picked it up. As he did, the other three flew around frantically twittering then rocketed north as fast as their wings would carry them.

Lontel stroked the small person’s golden locks. It looked so small and helpless. He felt like an oaf for hitting it. He didn’t need to have thrown the nut as hard as he had. The nuts they had thrown at him hadn’t hurt much.

He saw its chest moving, so he carried it to the travois and tucked it into the cloak that covered Davlena. He then gathered nuts and ate. He filled the small pocket he had made on the travois and started north again.

Three hours later he heard a small moaning. He stopped and checked his new ward. It was awake and cringed away when it saw Lontel towering over it. He saw it cowering, so he slowly cracked a nut and offered it the contents. Hesitantly it took the morsel and ate it. He then offered it some water. It drank greedily. Lontel then carefully withdrew it from its bed and released it. It started to fly, but got only a short distance when it hesitated and drifted to the ground. Lontel hurried to it and carried it back to the travois. It didn’t struggle any. In fact, it fell asleep almost as soon as he tucked it in with Davlena. It nestled in her hair and was soon snoring peacefully.

As Lontel sat against the tree thinking of the comforts of Sepultha, comforts he doubted he would ever see again, a hawk cried overhead. He stood, and shielding his eyes against the sun spotted it. It was circling around them. It came lower and lower until he could almost see its eyes studying him. It called again and flew south gaining altitude as it went. Something about it made Lontel uneasy, so he shouldered his burden again and started north.

He walked until dusk, then stopped under a nut tree. That night, the stars disappeared behind a thick blanket of clouds. Near midnight a chill raindrop splattered on Lontel’s face waking him. Several more hit him, so he slipped under the cloak covering Davlena and fell asleep. The booming thunder and flashing lightening barely roused him as his body insisted on getting one decent night’s sleep.

Lontel awoke the next morning to the sound of pouring rain. Only with the greatest of efforts could he force himself out from under the relative dryness of the cloak and into the wet world awaiting him. Soon he was wet to the bone and shivering from the wind that was starting. He gathered nuts and cracked some for his small patient then ate his fill. He filled his water bags from puddles and started north again.

He stopped seldom and for only short periods because only constant moving kept him warm. The wind increased so that by mid-afternoon it was a gale hurling the rain droplets with such force they felt like thousands of bee stings. To worsen matters, the wind had slowly shifted from the east until it was blowing directly out of the north and into Lontel’s face. Lontel knew he had to find some protection. The wind and rain were chilling his exhausted body so he shivered now even as he walked.

Through the sheets of rain, he saw small copse of trees. They were growing thickly together. Slowly he pulled his sodden load into the trees’ protection. They were large trees with full canopies. The gale howled through the upper limbs, but on the ground, there was a relative calm.

Chopping lower limbs covered with leaves, Lontel built a lean-to. He covered it with uprooted grass and brush, piling it up until he had a waterproof top. He dragged, pulled, and pushed the travois into the lean-to’s protection. The little creature peeked out from under the cloak; its wet hair matted, gave Lontel a brave smile, then disappeared under the cloak again.

Lontel tried to return the smile, but his teeth were chattering too badly. He slogged around gathering all of the deadfall he could find and carried it back to the lean-to. He picked several smaller sticks from his soaked cache, stripped the bark from them, and with shaking hands cut them until they looked like they were small feathered poles.

A chill shook him. He pulled out a large wad of tender from the pouch Arlin had given him. He tried to hit the back of his dirk to the flint but couldn’t make contact his hands were shaking so badly. Cursing under his breath, he took several deep breaths, concentrated on steadying his hands and struck the steel to the flint.

A spark jumped onto the tender, which quickly burst into flame. Lontel jumped back in amazement. Quickly he added the feathered sticks. When they caught he added the bark which soon caught. Lontel smiled. Arlin had done something to the tender to make it burn so readily and so long. He fed more small sticks into the fire. Soon he had a cheery blaze going the warmed the entire lean-to.

Lontel spent the rest of the day and night dozing, adding fuel to the fire, and listening to the unceasing rain and wind. The fire slowly dried everything in the lean-to, and Lontel began to again believe he would see another tomorrow.

The next morning he began cutting limbs from trees to use as fuel. He disliked using the green wood, but he had already used all of the deadfall. The rain was now only a steady, light shower, and the wind had died to a stiff breeze.

He was chopping limbs from a tree at the extreme edge of the copse he from the lean-to when he heard scuffling and some excited whispering. Lontel looked towards the lean-to and saw two giants with a smaller one sneaking up to the shelter. The smallest one peeked inside and said, "There is a sprite and elf asleep. Not only that, but there is already a fire going." Lontel crept up behind them.

"Wet day, isn’t it?" he said. The three intruders turned abruptly. They saw the green sword glistening in the newcomer’s hand. Lontel could see these giants weren’t like the one he had fought two days ago. They were dressed more fully. Also, they had human looking ears. Their irises were so large that no white showed in their eyes. They lacked the hair the other giant had. Their teeth were small and pointed just like the other’s, though.

"Aye, that it is," the burliest and largest said. "I have never seen a storm like this at this time of year. Must be the work of some wizard." Lontel could almost feel the smallest one’s teeth sinking into his flesh.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Oglo. This is my woman Elgi and my young one Ogli. Who are you? You don’t look like no elf. You don’t have the right eyes. You’re too big, too."

"My name is Lontel. I am a man." The eyebrows of the others lifted perceptibly. "I am the caretaker of the elf and sprite you saw in my shelter. What are you doing out in this weather?"

The three giants laughed. Oglo said, "We are ogres. We don’t need shelter. What we are doin' is huntin' food. It has been too long since last we ate. My woman has another growing in her, so she needs meat, not the nuts of these trees."

"And what kind of meat might you want?"

"Rabbit, mouse, fox, and wildcat are good. I have only had sprite once. It was okay. I have been told elf is delicious. No one has eaten man in centuries. That would be something to brag about. Troll is the best meat I have eaten. They die hard, though. They are as liable to end up eating you as you them."

"Do trolls have pointed ears, stand as high as you, and are covered with hair?"

"That sounds like a troll to me. Why?"

"I killed one three nights ago. It came after me in the dark. It carried a battle-axe and shield. It needs neither of them now. Not that they are worth anything. Both of them got destroyed in the fight." Oglo studied Lontel. If what the man said was true, he certainly wanted to avoid a fight. Something about the green sword scared Oglo. It wouldn’t hurt to see if what the man said was true. He whispered to his mate. If the man was lying, they could easily catch him and his companions.

"We had best take our leave. We shall follow your tracks and see if we can find the troll. If he is there as you say, we shall feast in your honor, Lontel." Oglo led his family away. Lontel could hear the youngster complaining vehemently. A loud whack was followed by silence.

Lontel smiled. He hoped they found the troll. It should keep their bellies full for quite awhile. If they didn’t, the little one would be sure to want to come after this easier prey. He went back to his wood gathering.

Two more days passed with the rain and wind never stopping, only slackening at times then picking up in ferocity until it was as bad as the first day. Lontel found the rest welcome. He spent most of the time catnapping or eating nuts. The sprite, who recovered completely, kept him busy. It couldn’t help but be a pest. It was fascinated with fire and had to see what all would burn. It learned quickly that its tiny hands would. After catching Davlena’s hair on fire, Lontel started making it go out in the rain with him whenever he gathered wood. It was sad for only a moment, then continued its unceasing chatter and giggling even in the wind and rain.

Lontel woke suddenly. Every nerve was on end. He listened to the night. Something was wrong. After several minutes it occurred to him. The rain and wind had stopped. He crawled outside and studied the sky. Stars blinked from behind the thinning clouds. The moon was beginning to wax again. Lontel smiled. They had survived.

The next morning, the sprite flittered about for awhile as Lontel prepared to resume his trek. Suddenly, it kissed him on the cheek and flew north. "Good bye, little friend," Lontel hollered. He thought he heard it answer, but knew it was probably just his imagination. He lifted the travois and slipped into the straps. Soon he was trudging north through the mire the rains had created. He sang all of the songs he could remember. It was good to be on the trail with the sun warming his bones.

Late that day he heard and saw a hawk again. This one also circled lower as though ensuring it was looking at the right thing then flew south. It left Lontel with the same uneasy feeling the other had. Lontel walked well into the night. When he did finally stop, Davlena was tossing violently in the travois.

He sat next to her and tried to stroke her hair. She snapped at him with her teeth. Her eyes popped open. They had a crazed look in them. "Let me go to the master," she said in a deep rasping voice. It sent chills down Lontel’s spine. She turned her crazed eyes to Lontel and smiled evilly. "You can have me, but let me go to the master. Untie me so I may open my waiting legs for you. I ache for your touch," she mewled. Shocked, Lontel slapped her across the mouth.

"Shut your vile mouth," he ordered. She cackled.

"Impotent pup. The master wants you to have me. Feel my breasts. They need you to caress them." Davlena strained against her bonds. Lontel stormed away. Oberon had finally broken her. Well, he still didn’t have her. Lontel looked back at the pathetic figure squirming and ranting. There was only one thing left to do. Lontel choked back a sob as he drew Wizbane.

The green image of Oberon suddenly materialized just beyond Davlena. The wizard was busy chanting and waving an enormous phallus at his quarry. "Ahhh!" Lontel roared as he charged his hated enemy.

Oberon looked up and fell back at the sight of the approaching human with the glowing sword.

"Wizbane," he muttered. He dropped the phallus and withdrew his own sword. Lontel didn’t notice the phallus inching along towards the eagerly whimpering Davlena. "So you visited Arlin, and the old fool has lost Wizbane to you, human. It will do you no good. I have spent centuries perfecting its master." His sword suddenly glowed a fierce yellow.

Lontel could feel power surging through him from the sword. He stepped over Davlena who had worked herself to a position where she could spread her legs slightly. She was panting like a bitch in heat. The wizard approached him. The yellow sword streaked through the night. It clanged against Wizbane, and sparks of every color showered high into the air. The wet ground hissed where they landed. Soon the night was a kaleidoscope of colors as the two fought. Animals scurried into any cover they could find and lay there shaking.

Leagues to the south, Arlin saw and heard the booming of the clashing swords. He sighed with resignation and went to his cellar to prepare.

Lontel parried another thrust. His power seemed infinite. He feinted a thrust. Oberon blocked and was barely able to escape the slashing blow of Wizbane. It sliced through his roves and cut the ancient skin. Oberon screeched and stumbled back. Before Lontel could press his advantage, a huge owl the size of a horse attacked and buffeted him back. Lontel struggled forward through the powerful gusts of the owl’s beating wings. Oberon scrambled onto the bird. Their swords met again. The yellow sword burst into flame engulfing Oberon’s hand. He screamed in agony and the owl took flight.

"Coward!" Lontel yelled at the retreating sound of the owl’s tremendous wings. He heard Davlena squeal excitedly and turned to see the green glowing phallus begin disappearing under the cloak between Davlena’s legs.

"No!" he screamed and rushed after it. He thrust Wizbane through the cloak and phallus then flung them away from Davlena who cursed at him then swooned. Lontel cut her free of the travois and dragged her away from the vile stretcher. He returned to the still squirming phallus and hacked it into hundreds of bloody pieces. When he finally stopped, blood covered him everywhere. He gagged at the sight and stench of it and vomited uncontrollably. On the owl Oberon cursed and clutched his groin with his remaining hand.

"Lontel." He opened his eyes. Staring down at him was a haggard Davlena. She smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He flinched and scurried away from her. She laughed. "Don’t worry, Oberon’s spell is broken. I am not that shameless harlot you saw last night. Thanks to you I remain pure and may still participate in the Passage of Life if we can make it to Shangri-La." Lontel smiled and sat up.

"Will you be able to walk now?" he asked.

"I am weak from the struggle with Oberon, but I can walk. If you could get me something to eat and drink, I would feel much better." Lontel gathered nuts from a tree and brought them to where Davlena waited. He couldn’t help but notice the smoldering remains of the travois. There went their packs and cloaks.

"I have never seen such hot blood," he said.

"You should see your face. It looks like someone took a hot brand to it," Davlena said. Lontel felt his face. Everywhere the blood had touched, he had a blister. They covered his hands, too, and his clothes were sprinkled with holes.

Davlena ate more than Lontel had ever seen her eat. Lontel ate only a few. He wanted to get away from here. The place felt like death and rotting to him. He led the way north. By the end of the day, they could see a solid green horizon in front of them.

"That must be Sprite’s Forest," Davlena said studying the edge of the forest.

"Arlin didn’t say much about it, did he?" Lontel said worriedly. He remembered the curious, almost sympathetic look the wizard had given him when the forest was mentioned.

Davlena was still talking. "… then once we’re through the forest, we will have to head west until we find the Passage Road. From there it should be easy to reach Shangri-La. All we will have to do is stay on the road, and it should take us to the heart of the city."

Lontel didn’t answer. He hadn’t seen a part of this journey yet that had been easy. The Passage Road he doubted would be any different. It had been a road only in a more civilized time.

When they were half of a mile from the forest’s edge, Davlena heard the giggling begin. Lontel saw the sun sinking in the west. He had no desire to enter the forest at night. Four sprites were a problem. He didn’t want to imagine what a whole forest full of them could be, and from the sounds reaching them the entire forest was filled. He convinced Davlena to wait until the next day to enter by refusing to go any farther.