“To me, Warrior, to me!” cried Thork, riding into view.
And Elyn veered slightly, racing toward the place at the edge of the forest whence had come the call, and now her eyes saw the pony sidle-stepping in panic, held only by the strong hand of Thork.
And behind her, soil ripped upward, sod rending as something below rushed through the earth, driving to overtake the fleeing steed.
Thork turned the pony, spurring him forward as Elyn drew nigh, and together they plunged into the Skög, Dwarf leading, Warrior Maid following, twisting through the wood.
Yet behind them trees fell crashing, as the thing below came after, uprooting forest giants and saplings alike in its quest to kill. While before it fled the twain, now drawing ahead, Dwarven eyes and agile pony leading the way.
Steadily they left the pursuit behind, yet both knew that it still followed, the thing perhaps slowed by roots and rock, or mayhap now it could not as easily sense the whereabouts of its victims here among the trees. Even so, still the two did not slow their pace, for any number of things could cause them to come to grief: a ravine, a bluff, anything to block the way. Yet Thork was skilled in the lay of land, and followed an uphill route when choice was given. At last they came to a great granite outcropping, shield rock, scarred ages agone by the endless ice that then covered the north.
“This way,” rasped the Dwarf. “It is bedrock here in this high clearing.” And he led them out of the woods and onto the open knoll, steel-shod hooves of the steeds clattering upon the stone. They rode to the center and stopped.
“Dismount, Warrior,” grunted Thork. “Yet be prepared to ride. For I know not whether stone will stop that which follows.”
“What is it?” asked Elyn. “Know you what it be?”
“Nay, Warrior, I do not,” answered Thork, shaking his head. “No lore, no knowledge, no myth speaks of a thing that pursues under the soil. And to my mind, only the Utruni live deep within the earth, though tales tell that other things dwell deep within as well.”
“Utruni? Do you mean the Giants?” asked Elyn. “Could it be one of them that follows? I always thought them to be allies, at least in the Great War, or so I am told.”
“Aye, allies,” responded the Dwarf. “And you are right: they are not evil, the Utruni, the Stone Giants-this thing on our track cannot be one of them. Even so, still it splits the earth; let us hope that whatever it is, it will not be able to get at us upon this stone hillock.”
And off in the distance they could hear the rending of trees, the sounds drawing nearer.
To the east the Moon sailed serenely up the star-spangled night, its argent light glancing down upon the huddled four: Elyn, Thork, and two steeds. No notice did the silvery globe seem to take of the desperate drama unfolding below, and it shed its platinum radiance as always, as it had done since the world and Moon were made.
Elyn examined Wind, and then the pony, cooing softly as she did so, Thork listening to her gentle words. “What name you this stouthearted steed of yours?” she asked the Dwarf.
“Digger,” answered Thork after some hesitation, as if the naming of a pony somehow revealed a weakness.
“Well, Digger,” she said to the horseling, “you are weary, as are we all, and needs must rest; yet stand ready, for we may have to flee again, and without you and Thork leading the way, tcha, Wind and I would be in the clutches of that monster, if clutch it can.”
The sound of uptorn trees falling to ground caused the pony to shudder, yet Elyn’s voice seemed to calm it some.
At last the earth heaved and trees toppled at the very edge of the stone, first this way then that, as if the unseen thing quested for a scent, a track, but could find none. Elyn and Thork held tightly the reins of their steeds, keeping the animals calmed in the face of this vile hunt, the horse and horseling flinching and shying with each crashed-down tree. And still the earth swelled and split, wherever the seeker turned, the tortured sound of upthrust soil grating through the night. Once or twice the rock hillock trembled, as if it had been struck a heavy blow, perhaps blundered into by a leviathan creature, yet nothing came upon the stone to get at them. And in these moments Elyn reached out and tightly gripped Thork’s hand, seeking comfort from an honorable foe, giving comfort in return.
A long time passed, and the Moon rode up the sky, and still the earth hove and buckled; and once Elyn thought that she had seen hideous ropy things writhing up out of the ground among the trees, but when she called Thork’s attention to them, they were gone.
At last the thing turned and made its way from the Skög, timber falling in its wake.
They spent the night upon the shield-rock tor, taking turns dozing, taking turns at watch, for they knew not whether the thing had truly left them, or was merely laying a trap. And when the Sun rose at last to an overcast day, they girded themselves and mounted up, preparing to leave the protection of the stone hillock, preparing to venture out upon the soft earth.
“Follow me,” Thork said quietly, pacing the pony forward. And when they had come to the eastern edge of the shield rock, “Yah!” he cried, kicking Digger in the flanks, and the small steed sprang forth from the stone and onto the soil of the Skög, racing once more among the trees, Elyn and Wind chasing after.
They ran this way for some distance, and nothing pursued, the forest quiet. And so at last they slowed to a walk, saving their mounts, hoping to come across water and a place where they could camp.
Eventually at the foot of a hill they came upon a stream. As their steeds took on water, Elyn unlaced the waterskin from the cantle and squatted at streamside, uncorking and submerging the leather, a thoughtful look upon her face. She spoke at last: “Thork, it is clear that the evil which pursues us was not shaken off by our sunlight trek. I deem that these attacks are directed-Adon knows how-by some malevolence I cannot name, but nevertheless is real. Whether it seeks you or me or the both of us, I do not know. Yet this I do know: I would now be dead if it were not for you, and you can say the same. So I propose that we stay in each other’s company till our paths come to a natural parting, then will we go our separate ways; for the quest I am on is mine to do, and the road you follow, your own. Foes we are, yet we can be friendly, until it is time to become enemies again.”
Thork’s response was a long time coming. “You have travelled with me in honor. You have shared your food and skills. You have saved my life more than once, and I am in your debt. And at last you call me by my name.
“Would that I could call you friend, Elyn, and perhaps I will for a while, for in other circumstance, friends would we be. And you are right: the evil that dogs us is real, yet together we have managed to defeat it. I will ride in honor with you till our paths part.”
Elyn capped her waterskin and stood, and for the first time there was a smile on her face as she looked at Thork. “Then let us find a campsite, friend, for I am weary beyond reckoning. My bed of last night was rock hard, yet I did not wish to step from it for I think a monster lay ’neath.”
At these words, Thork burst out in laughter, shaking his head. “Monster under your bed indeed.”
This day in camp, neither stood watch, for they had decided that the evil came only in the darkness, and they were bone weary. They had found an open glade within the woodland, grown with clover for the steeds to crop, and had pitched camp there. Tethering horse and pony upon long ropes-Elyn using the line flung at her a time apast by Thork-the warriors had eaten a bit of crue, falling asleep thereafter.
Throughout the day they slumbered, now and again waking, though all was quiet, to fall asleep once more. Overhead the skies grew darker as the daytide waxed and then waned. Now the black clouds roiled above them-though, sleeping, they knew it not. Far off came a distant rumble, thunder from the approaching storm.