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 up his hand.
“I’m good, I didn’t get hurt.”
Keither broke in with a bit of a frantic voice, “So what the hell is going on? Why were those people after us?”
Kovos put his hands on his hips. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Keither, and we’ll tell you all about it later, but for the sake of this conversation I’d say it’s fair to guess that the empire knows there’s someone of Elven descent in Salmont, and the only way I can think that the empire would know that is if someone is trying to finish something they started eighteen years ago.” He let the last bit hang in the air.
Kovos had hit it right on the head. Somebody was here finishing a cleanup job, but what was even more frightening was that it was the queen who was cleaning up, not some no-name Iumenta. Legon didn’t know much about the queen, but from what he did know, making mistakes was not in her nature. And if the queen of The Cona Empire did make a mistake, he assumed she would send in Iumenta to take care of it quietly, not the royal guard. They were not quiet in the least bit. If she had made a mistake then she wouldn’t want anyone in the empire, or out of the empire for that matter, to know about it, so why send royal guard? She had to know that her quarry was part Elf, and maybe full Elf. It didn’t make sense.
Legon started to pace. It didn’t make sense unless she didn’t know where to look in the empire. If that was the case, then she would need to send agents out to large parts of the empire. This helped explain part of the situation, but using humans still didn’t seem to make much sense.
Kovos broke his concentration. “Talk to us! I hate it when you pace.”
“Oh, sorry. Here’s what I’m thinking: the queen is looking for someone who fits my description, someone who may be part or full Elf. But she doesn’t know exactly where I am, because if she did…”
“… then she would send Iumenta for an Elf, not humans. I’m with you,” Kovos continued.
“Right. Now, because she doesn’t know where I am she has to send her men out all over the place to find me, and probably in small parties.”
“And she has to be counting on you not being full Elf yet, or not having been trained in combat, if she sent out royal guard. That’s perfect! The royal guard won’t attract too much attention and would be able to handle an untrained human,” Kovos said.
Both Kovos and Legon started when Keither broke in. They had almost forgotten he was there.
“I bet the men don’t even know what they might be dealing with, because if they did they would have used a little caution when trying to bring you in.”
“That’s probably true, Keither. I bet they think I’m some sort of a fugitive or something.” Legon said.
“Maybe. What about your back? I mean, do you think they would suspect magic?” asked Kovos.
“What’s wrong with your back?” asked Keither
“I have an Elven tattoo that was put there by magic, and now it’s turned from green to purple,” Legon said. He was caught off guard by the casual tone in his voice. Apparently his mind had decided that magic tattoos were old news compared to the current situation.
“A tattoo can be any color, and if the royal guard had suspected magic, don’t you think they would bring magic users themselves?” Keither asked.
Legon did a double take at this. Keither knew a lot more than he let on, or maybe the pain and panic of the day had jolted him into thinking. It was probably the latter. There are two kinds of people: those who fold under pressure and those that focus. Keither had to be the latter because not only was he thinking, but the news of Legon’s tattoo didn’t faze him at all. Keither had taken the news as just another piece of information.
The question was, how much pressure could Keither stand before he caved and lost control? Everyone had a limit, and when they hit it they hit it hard. Keither would need to keep his head for some time to come, because he was now in just as much trouble as Legon and Kovos. He had not only run from the royal guard, but he had also assaulted one, and that meant that he was going to have to come with Legon, Kovos, and Sasha. Legon came to this realization when he was hiding like a coward from the queen’s men, sometime between becoming a bug’s new burrow and a rather large and foul-smelling man almost urinating on him. The look on Kovos’ face also said that he too knew for his younger brother to be able to call Salmont home.