By the time the two boys were back in camp, the others were sleeping soundly. Only the lieutenant who had drawn first watch with one of the archers was awake. Even Telgra, who had protested the trickery vehemently, was asleep.
Later, when Jicks and the other archer were on watch, the youngster found that, without Oarly’s constant snoring to keep him awake, his eyes kept sliding closed. Sleep eventually overcame him. Luckily for the group, the archer stayed alert and the night passed uneventfully.
Oarly woke to a warm, moist smell that was as out of place as the low, rumbling growl he could hear. He opened his eyes to find a curious mountain cat in his face. It wasn’t nearly as frightening as the sea serpent or the dragons he’d been face to face with of late, so he managed to stay calm. Seeing Oarly’s eyes move, the cat’s hackles stood on end and it reared back to pounce. It bared its teeth, and its growl became insistent.
Oarly’s first thought was that the others were in danger, but as he felt his hip for his utility dagger, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t in the camp anymore. The cat was easily as big as he was, and it was pouncing to attack. Oarly’s dagger wasn’t there. He rolled quickly to the side and found himself in thin air. As he fell, he saw that he was high up the valley slope, above the camp. His heart was in his throat when he hit the rocky ground half a second later. He’d only fallen a few feet. The cat bounded off of the shelf where he had just been and leapt down at him as he rolled through the undergrowth to the valley bottom.
Oarly managed to roll to his feet, stop himself, and turn to meet the beast head on. The cat got a good claw in and opened the dwarf’s shoulder, but Oarly muscled it down and sank his teeth into its nose. In a wild fit of utter terror, the wildcat wiggled and scrabbled and tried to get free. In the process, it sliced Oarly to ribbons with its razor claws. Oarly finally roared and twisted at the wildcat’s neck until it snapped in his grasp.
After a moment, he rolled off the dead animal and inspected himself. He wasn’t dying, but by Doon he had a dozen long, bleeding furrows torn through his chest and thighs. He made a mental reminder to relentlessly pursue his revenge for those who were responsible for this jest. He didn’t consider it anything more than that. He would much rather be shredded by a wildcat than endure a day of feeling the effects of squat weed.
Oarly got to his feet, grabbed the dead beast by the scruff of the neck, and dragged it into the camp. He was pleased to find everyone, except for the wide-eyed, open-mouthed archer, sound asleep. The poor archer didn’t even try to protect Jicks or Phen. The sight of the bloody dwarf dragging the mountain cat was enough to leave him awestruck.
Jicks, who should have been awake, was Oarly’s first victim. He knew Jicks would have helped Phen. He was the only one with nards enough to buck Welch. Oarly had been expecting the two of them to pull something. He threw the mountain cat on the sleeping boy and then leapt on top of the pile, keeping the wild animal’s head in Jicks face while he screamed out in terror. The camp came alive then. Only Lord Gregory’s sharp eye kept the waking archer from loosing arrows on the hairy, bloody thing on top of Jicks.
“Phen, you’re in for a horribly long trip,” Oarly yelled. “Remember the cinder pepper? You will beg for that kind of pain.”
“By the gods, Master Oarly, you need attention,” Lieutenant Welch said, trying to calm the wild-looking dwarf.
“No, sir,” Oarly yelled, holding the wildcat’s carcass over his head. “This here wildcat needs the attention. How did you do it, lad?” Oarly asked Phen, blowing bloody spittle from his mouth as he spoke. “Did your blasted little lyna tell the mountain cat to get me? How did you do it? Tell me lad. Tell me how you did it?”
“I didn’t have a wild animal attack you,” Phen said defensively. “We only took you up there because you were snoring so loudly at night.”
“All right then, lad, don’t tell me how you did it.” Oarly threw the wildcat back on top of Jicks. “It was a good trick, I’ll grant ya. But of all of these people, you know the revenge I’ll be exacting on you. It’s a matter of pride now.”
Everyone in the group was speechless. None of them, not even Phen, who knew Oarly better than anyone in the realm, could imagine the dwarf killing the wildcat with his bare hands. And to believe that he thought it was all some elaborate jest was baffling.
Phen mumbled another apology about the wildcat, but Oarly wasn’t trying to hear it. Telgra glared at Phen until he was shamed.
“Come, Master Oarly,” Telgra said sweetly. “We need to tend your wounds. Let these fools clean your kill and make our morning meal.”
Oarly looked at her stupidly for a moment, then down at himself. He was dripping blood from the slices in his skin and breathing quite heavily. “I need me flask, Lady Telgra,” he said in a calmer tone.
“Of course you do.” She gave Phen a look that pierced him deeply. “Phen will fetch it, won’t you, Phen?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Phen said, looking at his marble-colored boots.
Jicks was sitting up now, wiping the tears from his face. It wasn’t clear what had scared him more, the wildcat, or the wild-eyed dwarf. Either would be terrifying to wake up to.
“If you’re done crying like a babe,” the lieutenant said, “then you can explain to me how Master Oarly got close enough to you to scare you to tears. You were on watch duty, boy.”
Jicks flushed bright scarlet and looked away.
“It’s my fault, lieutenant,” Phen insisted. “I talked him into helping me trick Oarly.”
“That has nothing to do with the fact that Jicks was sleeping on his watch,” the lieutenant said. “He put every single one of us at risk, and I’m not about to let him forget it.”
“Latrine duty for the duration of this quest is a start,” Lord Gregory said. “I fell asleep on watch duty once, Jicks. My captain had me shoveling horse shit out of every stable he could find for a year.” The Lion Lord smiled, seeing that Jicks understood the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sure Lieutenant Welch will come up with a comparable punishment for you. As for Master Oarly’s mishap, I think that we are all to blame for that. I just hate to think about how he will get us back. According to the High King, Oarly is one of the most ruthless tricksters in the realm.”
“Aye,” Phen agreed. “I’m sort of afraid of him now.”
Chapter 20
The thirty-two wood cutters, mill workers, and loaders who had deserted Glendar’s army and wound up on the Isle of Salpahel congregated around the large table of the company cabin. Master Wizard Sholt had already prepared his spell and dusted the table with a silvery powder reagent that was required to make it work. The gathering men were nervous. Lord Spyra banged a goblet on the table, loudly drawing everyone’s attention. The large, imposing form of the former general standing beside the wizard helped bring about a sudden hush.
“In a moment, Sholt here will relieve you of the curse that you’re under, but I have a question I want to ask first.” Spyra began pacing back and forth as if he were about to make a pre-battle speech to encourage his troops. “Have any of you had an urge to go east? Or have any of you heard voices in your head?” He paused in his stride to listen for an answer. “I know nobody wants to sound like a raver, but this is important. Speak up now, and be honest.” He stopped and clasped his hands behind his back and surveyed the men. None of them said a word, but none of them looked away either. He sighed with relief. “Very well then,” he finished with a nod. He opened an arm to the wizard, indicating for him to take over, then made his way outside the cabin.
A few moments later the light of the afternoon sun was challenged momentarily by a surge of bright lavender light. A collective gasp from inside the building coincided with the flash. Lord Spyra shivered involuntarily. The idea of being spelled with magic, even in order to be rid of a curse, was enough to make him cringe.