Varlarsaga Volume 2 - Recovery

Chapter - 25 Smoke In The Hills

Corin, once the Prince Mylor, self-exiled from Ravenmoor the land of his birth and wretched youth, stood at sun-down on the shores of the strange new Northern Land, watching the waves tumbling and booming in.

At his side was Alluin; Princess of the Elloræ, maiden fair, daughter of King Elberl and Queen Goldal. Her hair unbound swept from her bare shoulders on the wind's breath. Her bright eyes gleamed, set like twin jewels in her rose-blushed face. The gown she wore was of sea-green and girdled about with pale pearls and upon her feet were slippers of delicate fish-mail.

Corin was clothed and shod in the gifts given him by the Queen and Alluin at their last parting; though this time his cloak was turned about so that the forest greens and browns were outermost and indeed at that moment he seemed as rapt in mind as he was in his raiment. His gaze strayed from the incoming tide and the myriad Valdë craft riding at ease and he turned toward the green-clad slopes that rose behind them.

‘And now, that in which we be clad tells much of our ways,’ came Alluin's voice above the ocean's murmuring. ‘I, to dwell here by the sea, whilst my people set about rebuilding the fallen spans that link your birth-land to these shores; and you, to depart in search of that which you know not.’

‘Yes,’ murmured Corin. ‘That is the way of it.’ Then, as if to turn the conversation away from his parting, he said, ‘The Elloræ have chosen a mighty labour, for there seems nought left of the bridge but wave-washed rocks.’

‘A labour of love,’ she assured him. And turning to meet his eyes, she went on, ‘but you must be off on the morrow and whither...’

‘Shall I go...’ he completed. ‘Just as you so spake I cannot tell, or guess. I must go. That is all.’ Corin sighed. ‘Oh, I wish it were so simple.’

He smiled at her and she, with radiance, smiled back.

‘Nothing is simple, but that which we make simple,’ she whispered. ‘Loving can be simple, when not tainted by distrust and faithlessness. Living can be simple, when filled with love and not fraught with hate and fear. Fear can be simple, when one knows well the enemy. Parting can be simple, when one knows the journey's end, and the perils betwixt.’

Corin reached out his upturned hand, and she hers.

Their fingertips touched, resting lightly against each others. ‘Returning might be simpler, if I knew that I was to return,’ he replied. ‘Alas, I am a simpleton lacking the simpledom of life. I am alive. I live. But around me, everywhere, are unanswered questions; riddles. For me, little is simple. My heart is filled with unrest and I do not know the reasons why. I guess, that I here stand on the foothold of a vast and terrible world; rich and dangerous. Somewhere, somehow, herein lie the truths, the answers and the knowledge. Already your folk have sent scouts far and wide, and all have returned with nought but tales of dreary places where the lands be empty. Why? No bird. No deer, fox. No hare, badger, weasel. No wolf. No predator, no prey.’

Corin paused, daring to gaze ever deeper into Alluin's eyes. ‘The Elloræ know much, are wise in very many ways, and still even the wisest glean nothing. As Silval himself said to me, ‘Stone and soil are dumb. Bole and root are mute. Grass whispers not, nor the cavern or grot. And the sounds of the sea, benumb.’

He turned away, to stare at the sands with unseeing gaze. ‘What kind of land have the Elves chosen to dwell in? What are the secrets that lurk hidden in the forests and deep in the mountains? Like enough to the isle from whence I come, this land is wreathed in mystery. So, I must go out, to the utmost shores if need be. I must search and seek, for my mind shall not rest otherwise. The Voices lure me on and I would follow Them unto the end. For I must know Their secret.’

The ocean rolled in, crashing along the shingle where they now stood. It creamed about their feet, though when the tide fell back little sign was there that it had ever touched Alluin's gown.

‘Let us seal our parting,’ she said slowly and gravely. ‘I shall not see you off in the day-light of morrow. Be this our fare-thee-well.’ And she stooped and plucked a live fish from the foam and in its gaping mouth it bore a mother-shell; and this Alluin gave to Corin, and the fish she set free.

‘No riches of Man's desire, do I to you,’ she breathed. ‘Only a token; a goodwill, that you might recall my face and my thought of you. Our path separates. It is goodbye. Goodbye.’

She stepped away lightly and Corin, his open hand a-glisten with the shell silvered by the newly risen moon, watched her as she went.

‘You are fortunate in your company, Corin Avarhli,’ said the Queen Goldal as she gazed up at the last twinkling star before dawn. ‘Once again you take away my Brother Silval and his ever-companion Huntress Elvra.’

‘Not take away,’ protested Silval, with a smile. ‘He is Ellormel, Elf-Friend; and I have pledged myself to him ever since he drew me back from death's edge. Beside that, we need read the riddles of this land. There is much to learn beyond these strands, I guess.’

‘Perhaps,’ said King Elberl guardedly. ‘But few now can be spared for such expedition if we are to bridge this New Land with that of the Raven Isle. Aneurin Seamaster requires many hands and skills in his service, ere that work be completed. That is why your mounts must return hither once you are come to the last Elf-sign north and east; where lies your chosen course. Noble Cornarian and his family are needed now, and sparing them causes delay for lack of kindred leadership.’

The King of Elloræ paused then, with a hinted amusement in his tone, he added, ‘Also, I do not think the Emar will journey further than can be helped, with one of the ympari for burden.’

‘You wish us to take the ymp Pitrag?’ asked Elvra, dismayed.

‘Yes. I do,’ replied the King. ‘His presence here is disturbing to everyone. No matter how docile he now appears, he is of the nugobluk and, but for intervention by Talba Brighteyes, might well have shared in the downfall of his like. As it is, Master Corin has pleaded to spare his life, taking him far from here and, when the time is right, releasing him to the wilds where he may go his own way.’

Silval turned to Corin, a wry smile coming to his lips. ‘Is it true? You begged for the life of that mischief? Are we to be his caretakers once again?’

Corin nodded and said, with some concern, ‘It seemed the best thing to do. Yes, I know that he is of enemy-kind, but Pitrag himself has done us no wound nor harm. Surely you would not have him murdered? We must set him free, since he was made captive by us and we are responsible for him.’

‘I could have made him as free as his companion, in the beginning, if he had chosen to fight,’ answered Silval coolly.

‘But we both know that is not the way of Elves,’ returned Corin, reaching out to take Silval's arm.

Silval laughed outright, in good merriment. ‘Of course you are right Avarhli. All life is precious, and even at greatest need it is a hard thing to take. The ymp shall travel with us, until we can be free of him. Let us hope that there is room enough for him in this new world, far from Elloræ holds.’

‘Does that mean I am to be his warden, as before?’ asked Dalen, crestfallen.

King Elberl looked down at the pixie and answered kindly, ‘All those who go forth are to be his keepers, Dalen Tree-heart. Especially Falnir, who expressed the desire to accompany Master Corin. He may not admit it, but I suspect that he has grown somewhat favourable toward the creature.’

‘Yes,’ said Corin nodding, ‘I believe that to be true, and it is a wonder. Still, perhaps wild things can be tamed to the good, as well as the reverse. Maybe, with Falnir's careful guidance, the ymp will become less of the savage.’

‘As to that,’ replied the King, ‘I would not place too much trust. Be watchful of the creature at all times, or you may not live to regret it. However you, Master Corin Avarhli, shall not want for company on the next part of your strange road: steeds three, Elves three, a Pecht and a ymp should keep you from loneliness in the wilds.’

‘And a cat, purrhaps?’ growled Bim, curling about Corin's leg.

It was the morrow; far into it, and they had already travelled a goodly distance from the sloping shores of the new land.

The horses: Cornarian, Eiravar and their colt Ebolian covered the broken ground at a brisk trot, finding a way through the tangles of nettles and undergrowth rank with thorny blackberries and sticky creepers. Elvra and Silval rode in the lead on Cornarian, with Falnir and the imp, bound and haltered, trailing behind on Eiravar. At the rear came Dalen and Corin, Bim wrapped upon his shoulder, on Ebolian who, though still a youngster, bore them as if they were mere feather-weight.

The sun lingered overhead on its clouded passage toward late afternoon. Its fleeting heat was pleasing to Corin after the bleakness of Ravenmoor, and in it was the definite hint of spring to come. There was little breeze amongst the gaunt branches and the sky stood empty of winged creatures. Since setting forth, not one living thing had they encountered. The only sign that any being had passed were the almost invisible marks left by the Elloræ gone before them. These, the sharp eyes of Silval and Elvra spied out and followed as they wound ever further into the knotted thickets.

When night fell, they halted in a clearing bordered by bramble and there rested the horses, partaking of such fare as they carried with them. In that bright moonlight Corin dozed awhile as the others sat or stood, speaking in quiet tones, about a tiny fire kindled mainly for him. He slumbered lightly, his mind darting, until he came to wakefulness and saw that the imp Pitrag sat before his feet, huddling close to the flames and muttering to himself as he held out his bound claws toward the heat.

‘What is he saying?’ Corin asked of Falnir, who was propped aloft in the fork of a dead ash.

‘That I do not know,’ replied the elf. ‘He speaks in garbled tongue. Probably his own imp dialect. For all we know, he could be begging the fire to burn his bonds.’

‘Or begging for it to burn us,’ added Dalen suspiciously.

‘I wonder,’ said Corin touching the imp upon his bony shoulder. ‘Pitrag, what are you saying? Do you speak to the fire?’

The imp's eyes twitched round to Corin's and he ceased his furtive whisperings a moment before turning again to stare into the flames. There was a change in the creature that Corin and the others had begun to notice ever since his cleansing in the tarn, high upon the Tumberimber mountains. Yet what that change boded was still uncertain.

‘Nar! Yass!’ Pitrag replied as if puzzled himself. He gestured to the fire and then to his mouth with his bound claws.

Corin thought for a time, then said, ‘Surely he does not eat fire? He seems to have survived so far on gnawed bones and any other pickings. Perhaps if I took something that we eat and toasted it?’

Elvra tossed a piece of corn-bread onto the coals and when it was near black Corin drew it out on the tip of a sharp twig. He held the offering toward Pitrag, who sniffed at it and then snapped it up, twig and all. He munched away, spitting out bits of wood, and then swallowed in one great gulp.

‘Yass!’ he said, his fanged mouth hanging open. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, he stood up.

Falnir's knife glittered in the light of the flames as he took hold of the halter that looped the imp's neck.

But Corin said, ‘Wait. Let us see what it is that he wants.’

And so the elf trailed out the leash, whilst Pitrag went scrabbling about amongst the nettles and roots of bushes, digging up and pulling off various things until, at length, he returned with his strange bounty. Grunting and wobbling on his thin legs, he threw the lot into the blaze and sat down to watch. Then, after a short while, he plunged his claws into the coals, heedless of the heat and raked out most of the blackened items. These he proceeded to gnaw at with some relish; tearing open the dank, earth roots and devouring them until all were gone. Soon, his bare, swart belly filled, he lay back and appeared to sleep; mumbling and snoring, his hand-claws wrapped about the halter line at his throat.

‘Best bind his feet again,’ said Silval, stepping into the fire-glow. ‘And look closely to his bonds, lest he frayed them in the flames.’

‘Would it matter so much if he escaped now?’ wondered Corin. ‘After all, we are a goodly way inland and far from your people.’

‘Better we be well prepared and at our pleasure when we release him,’ said Falnir, laughing.

‘And by the light of day, rather than in the shadows of the night,’ added Silval. ‘Let us not forget that he is still a ymp and thus not to be trusted.’

Corin nodded. ‘I suppose so. At least now we know what he will gladly eat: for it seemed to me that he had grown gaunt since his capture.’

‘True,’ said Elvra softly from the darkness where she stood watching. ‘But if his liking is for these things, what might it be for others? Surely you have not forgotten the bone-heaps that we saw within the halls of the mountains?’

‘No,’ Corin replied. ‘I shall never forget that.’

The days went on, one upon another, as their steeds bore them north and east through the rising, thorny brakes. Those places, dreary with sameness, filled Corin with a sadness and a longing to be free of them; of their clutching creepers and sticky weeds.

At last they came to the final elvish marker, cut into the bole of a dying oak. It was the bent arrow sign made by Clovell at the point where he and his group had turned back.

‘My Prince went the furthest of all,’ squeaked Dalen, jigging about the tree, and in fact running on a little way to better that.

Bim, perched on Cornarian's saddle, licked at a paw, saying, ‘Why so gladsome Tree-heart? Here we say farewell to our Emar friends. I alone will be your four-footed company neow.’

Dalen's grin faded and he muttered, ‘No, Master Cat. I had not forgotten. Though I wish it otherwise.’

‘As, for the most, do we,’ returned Cornarian, shaking his great head so that his mane rippled like running water. ‘Though I know my Mare will not miss overly her burden.’

Pitrag slid roughly from Eiravar's back, crouching at the end of his tether and peering about with doleful eyes, hooded by his bony brows.

The mare stamped her fore-hoof. ‘Neigh! I shall not miss the feel of this creature's claws and bony knees, nor the rankness of his hide. But had we not been needed for other tasks, I would have borne him further without complaint.’

Silval lifted his free hand to stroke her neck. ‘Aye, that you would have, we are sure. Yet Elberl King bade you otherwise and you must do as was bid. Your service is highly valued by he and my Sister. Go now, and may you speed swiftly to them and your road be an easy one.’ He held aloft his bow in token of farewell, as the three whinnied and wheeled about.

‘Thankyou for your kindness, friends,’ cried Corin.

Hearing this, Cornarian turned his head, rearing; then he and his family kicked their heels and galloped away in single file.

‘And now we are seven, counting this ymp,’ said Falnir sadly, drawing the halter taut about Pitrag's neck.

‘Soon to be six,’ replied Silval. ‘We will set him free not too long away.’ He turned to the imp, who was squatting, scratching at himself. ‘Let us hope that we never cross roads again,’ he added.

Thence, from that dismal glade, they made off on foot, with Elvra and Silval in advance of the others, moving silently forward into unknown land, wary of stumbling across wild things.

The way offered little change. Only the sky, with its bursts of sunlight and rolling clouds by day and newly patterned stars at night, gave relief to the monotony. During that weary time, Corin spent frequent periods with the imp, even persuading him to sip a little Mellis wine from the horns carried by the elves. Pitrag gagged on it and spat most out but later, on the following evening, tried some again with more success.

That same night, he ate a few portions of meat-fungus which Elvra found growing in huge clumps under the shade of an ancient chestnut. This he consumed, burnt at first, and then raw; tearing through the outer skin to the red inner flesh, so that crimson juice ran from his ravenous jaws.

‘Probably reminds him of folks he had for supper,’ sulked Dalen, who seemed put out by the attention paid to the imp. And when offered the same fungus by Elvra, the pixie turned it down with flat disdain, and went off with Bim to gnaw at a few old chestnuts that lay untouched by squirrel or mouse.

The next day they came to a shallow stream, running down from the north, that crossed their path. The water was bitterish, but not undrinkable, and so they refilled the small casks carried by the elves, and sipped a little to quench their thirst. When it came time to cross the water, Pitrag, much to everyone's surprise, paddled through with hardly a grimace.

‘Grrr...Thinks he is an elf now,’ Dalen growled as they went along.

‘Purrhaps he has changed?’ ventured Bim, who was draped about the pixie's shoulders.

‘Do you really believe so?’ asked Dalen doubtfully.

Bim licked at a paw and yawned. ‘Besst not to guess, but watch and be on guard. Bees keep their ssting as long as they live, yet most never use them.’

‘Ay,’ replied the pixie glumly, ‘still, for the most, I shall be pleased when he is no longer with us, even though he seems to have come around a little from evil doings.’

They journeyed on for another day, the tenth since setting out, and yet it appeared that they were toiling up a very slightly inclined slope. Even after Silval and Falnir had climbed several trees along the way, the best they could report was that those ahead grew taller and were filled with thicker foliage. This proved to be so; and with healthier trees there came a corresponding improvement of food supply. Here and there along the way Elvra gathered to her many toadstools that were edible, and with them, morels and truffles, as well as the juicy meat-fungus. In addition there were berries of all sorts: wild plums, and some nuts from a tiny tree discovered by Dalen and Bim. Of these, Pitrag would touch only the fungus and a nut or two which he devoured unshelled.

And so the company ate as they went along until, in the mid morning of the eleventh day, they came through to the edge of the trees and gazed out across a broad expanse of tall grass, waving in the wind. Upon the further side stood a wide forest of beech, and beyond it again green hills and the far blue smudges of hinted mountains.

‘Ho ho!’ called Silval. ‘A beech-wood to rest in tonight. It is long since my feet have felt such as the carpet of those leaves. Put behind us now the tiresome way we have come. Once beneath those eaves it shall be worth the weary work.’

‘And what of the hills beyond?’ asked Corin.

‘We will climb them of course, dear Avarhli,’ said the elf, laughing. ‘But for now, I think it best that we free the ymp that he may choose his own way. We are far enough from the coast and our people there, and I deem it safe enough.’

‘He may follow,’ said Falnir, doubtful.

‘Then he will find us watching and ready,’ answered Elvra. ‘He is one and we are several. Only death would he earn for any foul deed or ympish trickery.’

‘Very well,’ said Falnir, with what Corin guessed to be the slight trace of a sigh. ‘Stand away whilst I loose him from his bonds. He may do the unexpected.’ The elf set about freeing the imp; removing the loops of marline from the bony wrists and the halter about the creature's skinny neck. Then he stepped back, leaving Pitrag crouched and motionless.

‘Pitrag! You are free to go. We keep our bargain. Go now and make your way alone. Go!’ commanded Silval sternly.

For a moment or two the imp made no move, seeming confused and uncertain and blinking in the sunlight as if newly awakened. Then, with a suddenness that surprised all, he bounded forward, bowling Dalen over in his onrush. The pixie's knife flashed out even as he regained his feet. ‘Where is he!’ he demanded, vexed and looking sharply about, brandishing the little blade. ‘I will slice him for that. And then I shall dice him and sprinkle him out for the birds to get! I'll carve off his ears and tail! I'll...why, I'll snip off his impudence at the neck!’ He glared wildly at the others, who by now were all near to laughter.

‘Off you sally then, Leafen Tree-heart,’ smiled Silval. ‘Though you needs be swift.’ He gestured in the direction from which they had travelled, but of Pitrag there was no sign.

Dalen lowered his weapon and stumped off a little way in sheer annoyance. ‘Good riddance to him, and just as well for the nasty creature,’ he exclaimed, and his curly hair seemed to flame up in anger. Then, as was the pixie's good nature, he turned about beaming. ‘I cannot say why, but I almost miss that little mischief already,’ he chuckled.

‘And I too,’ added Falnir, coiling the marline about his shoulder.

Silval nodded, searching the thickets with keen eyes. ‘Well, he is gone now, into a new land far from his old haunts. Who can say if any of his fell kindred yet abide here? Still, I have no doubt that Pitrag will find some dank hole to make his lair; albeit I pray, far from the walks of elves.’

‘He was changed though,’ reflected Corin. ‘Ever since the High Hall in the mountains, where first we came upon him, there has been a growing difference in his nature. He learned to endure the sun-light and water, and to eat of foods that never would he have touched before.’

‘And he saved my life on the great stairway,’ said Falnir wistfully.

‘Of course he would have fallen to his own death, had he not,’ added Elvra, musing.

‘But still and all,’ went on Falnir, ‘I wonder if the likes of Pitrag are completely evil, and powerless to change?’

Silval considered a moment. ‘They might change, or something might change them, for better or worse. It is said that all things in the long ago were neither good nor evil. They were, and that is all. It is how they acted upon each other that moulded and shaped their being. Perhaps the moulds are set, unchangeable now. Perhaps there is no going back.’ He turned and bent his sharp, blue eyes toward the distant forest of beech. ‘Still,’ he mused, ‘for the Elloræ there is no going back to Elfame. And we are changed; changing. Yet not, I think, from good to evil.’

‘But there were the Daræ,’ said Elvra.

Silval's eyes dimmed. ‘Mayhap we shall never know about the Black Elves.’

‘And nought more shall we know ever if we do not make a beginning for yon trees,’ chirped the pixie, a measure of impatience and excitement in his trill voice.

Elvra laughed, and it seemed a bird-like song that swept away their thoughts and doubts as leaves on a swift flowing stream. ‘Aye, let us be off,’ she smiled, her eyes full of the sun and her limbs light to the breeze. ‘And ware ye Falnir of Niniath,’ she continued, ‘you may have fought the nugobluk on the shores of our home-haven an age or more ago, but now there is one of their lower kin at our backs. Keep close watch behind as we go.’

Falnir smiled in return, though in his heart he hoped not to catch sight of the imp again, for he had no desire to kill Pitrag. Indeed it seemed, as it did to Corin, that the creature had become a part of their company; as if some kind of inexplicable bond had formed between they and he.

For a time Corin puzzled over this as they passed through the tall grass, but then had to put it from his mind as they neared the forest. Suddenly he was aware of a feeling, a wonderful feeling that appeared to grow from the passing of drawn-out winter, dead in its own tangled remains, turning into spring; springing alive with young, vigorous shoots. ‘It's like a glistening butterfly emerging from her cocoon,’ he thought, filling his lungs with the fresh air that stirred through the trees beyond.

Swiftly now they went forward, the elves threading their way amongst the waving grasses, leaving no trace of their footfall. Only Corin, who was not as adept as they, occasionally bent a stem or two here and there; but Falnir repaired the damage with nimble fingers, mingling the stalks with others so that they stood again upright. And whilst he halted on this errand, he listened for any sound of pursuit. None came and, satisfied that the imp was not trailing behind, he went on.

Meanwhile, Silval and Elvra had broken through the broad band on the furthest side, and stood in the lee of the forest on a lawn-like green that ran beneath the very eaves.

‘Can you feel the change?’ Elvra whispered as Corin reached her side.

‘Yes. There is some thing here,’ he nodded. ‘Something that promised when the Valdë ships drew nigh the coasts of this country. I thought it lost as we travelled, but here it is again; only now it is different. Earlier, when we first landed, it was like a dream of the past. Now it is like, well like life; a living springtime newly come.’

Silval touched Elvra's arm. ‘Hasten. Let us cross the threshold and be a part of this spring. Come, the forest draws me to it.’

They stole forward in the late noon sun, until the first trees closed over them. Then they halted to gaze about, the sunlight but a glimmer through the branches. Around them rose young, smooth-barked beech, and further off their older, darker parent trees whose aged arms were laden with oval leaves: yellow and pale green. Beneath their feet the company felt the pillowed softness of many fallen leaf-coats, and ahead now they spied a sudden sparkle of sun's rays, as if beckoning them onward. A moment more and, some little way off, there came the faint ‘Proo croo, croo-croo,’ of a wood pigeon.

‘Proww!’ Bim appeared head-first from a drift of piled leaves, his tail switching rapidly from side to side, and as he did a grey moth went up before him and he tumbled after it in a flurry of yellow and brown.

Falnir twined himself amid the lower trailers of a nearby vine. ‘We are out of the dead lands,’ he said contentedly.

‘And into the realm of the living,’ sang Dalen, covering himself with a blanket of leaves.

‘Now, now,’ cajoled Elvra, ‘no time to stop. Gambol as we go, if you please. The way winds on and sights, I deem, there are for us to see. Forward. In we trip-tread. Yet be wary, lest we spoil the fun and fright the flighty.’

‘So away with us at once,’ laughed the pixie. ‘Bows drawn for terror at charging woodmice!’ And with many a mock flourish he strode off; for all his pretend bravado, making no sound amongst the mouldering forest floor.

Then, in a clear voice which was not much above a whisper, Silval began to recite, ‘What does the tree care of the bird, or the cat, for that matter? The tree is above most worldly concerns: green in the sunshine, grey in the rain, black in the night, white in the hoar. Gay, drab, bare, blooming. Glistening with drops glowing in the sun shower. Tossed in the wind, naked in winter, clothed in spring. Leaf crowned, rounded bole, darkened root, strengthened heart. Hardened limbs reaching ever upward to the arch'ed sky; arms full-wide, enriched of life's joy.’

It was near to another morning's dawn when Corin awoke with a start. In fact this was the first time in several days that he had slept so soundly and so long, since it seemed that he required less and less sleep. A hand was on his shoulder, rousing him. A voice in his ear said, ‘It is I, Silval. Awake Avarhli. Leave your resting place and follow me.’

Half in a mist, Corin arose and stumbled after the fleeting figure of the elf. Almost at once they came upon Dalen, strangely silent, perched in the twain limbs of a grey beech.

‘This will do us,’ whispered Silval, drawing Corin behind the tree. ‘Elvra is away there in that dark clump of greenery, and Falnir lies hidden in the highest branches above our resting place. From here, with the dawn coming, we can watch unseen.’

For a while nothing happened. All remained still but for the faint rustle of the breeze in the tree tops. Then that too died and a drizzle of rain seeped through the mantle above. Faintly, but quite near, a sound caught Corin's attention. It was the noise of a creature's tread; though whether animal or otherwise, he could not be sure. However, a moment later a dark form, crouched and stealthy, appeared for an instant at the base of a huge beech, then darted out of sight with amazing speed and silence.

‘Pitrag!’ exclaimed Corin in a hoarse whisper that made Silval round upon him.

‘Your voice is like the rough slide of stones down a mountain scree,’ he hissed, and turned back at once to watch.

The imp was now very near to the place where Corin had slept, still remaining out of sight where possible amongst drifts of leaves. For a time he stayed thus, occasionally peeping out to lift his head as if smelling the air. Then at last he emerged and, bent low to the ground, came to the cushion of leaves that had pillowed Corin's head. There, for the first time, Corin saw the imp clearly.

‘Look what the creature carries,’ breathed Silval, nodding toward the thing clutched in Pitrag's claw. ‘A club mayhap? Foolish weapon against bow and sword.’ He began to draw the arrow he held strung.

‘Wait,’ said Corin urgently, laying his hand upon the elf's shoulder. ‘Wait a moment longer, please.’

‘Very well,’ murmured Silval. ‘Though Elvra and Falnir may not be so patient.’

Meanwhile, after staring bleakly around and sniffing at the earth thereabouts, Pitrag abruptly squatted down and began tearing with his fangs at the branch and gnawing on the sappy soft-wood beneath.

‘There,’ smiled Corin, ‘since when do imps breakfast on their own weapons? I believe he has come seeking us, but not to do harm. Look, he is curling up as he did when our captive. Could it be that he knows we are watching him? Perhaps he is waiting for us to show ourselves?’

‘Perhaps,’ returned Silval with some reservation. ‘And then perhaps he is more cunning than we guess.’

‘Well I shall find out now,’ replied Corin, stepping out from his hiding place. At the first sound Pitrag jerked his head up, ready to take to flight on the instant. Corin, however, made no attempt to hide his coming as he crunched through the drifts, instead calling out, ‘Pitrag, it is I, Corin. Why have you followed us? Did you not understand that to do so could mean your death?’

Pitrag gulped, blinked, and stood up, casting his furtive eyes about the trees as he did.

‘Why have you come here?’ Corin persisted as he stepped closer. The imp took a pace backward, still clutching at the remains of the branch. ‘Give that to me and stay very still,’ said Corin in a low voice.

Pitrag hesitated a moment, and then held it out.

‘Now tell me,’ went on Corin, as he took the branch from the imp, ‘why have you followed us?’

‘Yass,’ replied the imp, screwing up his mask of a face as if trying to find the answer without success. He scratched at his leathery neck with long claws, but his jaws remained firmly shut; only the lower fangs protruding upward. Then, with an impulsive movement, he reached out toward Corin, squatting down before him. Taking Corin's hand, he placed it upon his shaggy head, which he bowed, saying, ‘ErGas, erGas. Ichtar Pithrug, mugga!’

There came a sudden laughter from above that made the imp pull away to peer into the heavy screen of green. ‘Ho Avarhli! What is there about you that makes even the likes of him wish to serve you?’ Falnir appeared from the furthest side of the trunk, balancing lightly upon one of the lower limbs, bow still drawn.

‘A question for a question,’ countered Corin. ‘Why did you not shoot Pitrag? I am sure that you could have.’

‘To that, I do not rightly know,’ answered the elf truthfully, smiling all the while.

‘Then that is my answer too,’ laughed Corin, whilst Silval and Elvra emerged from their hiding places.

‘The ymp appears to want Avarhli as his master,’ said Falnir as the others joined them.

‘He is fortunate to live so long,’ said Elvra coolly. ‘One hostile movement would have ended his errand no matter what his intentions.’

‘Well, what is to be done,’ pondered Silval. ‘Do we trust him with us, or make him go away again?’

Falnir considered. ‘We could bind him, I suppose.’

‘Or make him a head shorter,’ growled Dalen, jesting.

Corin waved a hand. ‘Let him loose, I say, to travel with us if that is his desire. Do not bind him, for you are all watchful; but allow him not near any weapons or gear of travel.’

‘Nor near you when you are drowsing,’ added Elvra.

‘It is somewhat against my better judgement,’ nodded Silval, ‘yet if you trust him that much Avarhli, we will risk it. And if he takes it into his head to wander off, all well and good.’

Corin turned to the imp. ‘Do you know the meaning of what has been decided?’ And for the first time, he saw the nearest thing to a grin creep across Pitrag's black face. It was rather akin to a grimace more than a grin, and it held much concealed within it: base animal cunning was there, as was slyness and prankster mischief; the kind that might begin with a twisting pinch and end with the bite of fangs to a throat. Yet also, deep within the dark pits of the imp's eyes, Corin thought he glimpsed something else. Something almost honest; perhaps a genuine savagery, a wildness that held motives that, maybe, were not all evil.

‘If you plot toward our downfall, if you plan some secret harm, the Elves will slay you, or at the last, I shall,’ said Corin. ‘Obey them and I, and you may walk our path,’ he commanded.

The imp gave him a sly look, grunted, and fetched his piece of branch from Corin's hand. Then he lay down, mouthing at it like a dog mumbling on a haunchbone.

All at once there came a sudden scattering of leaves as Bim pounced into their midst. ‘Elloræ cat, where have you, this past?’ Elvra asked, reaching down to stroke his shiny fur.

‘I have been a way through the forrest, almost to itss farr side,’ answered Bim. Then, catching sight of Pitrag, he arched his back and spat. ‘Charrr! What iss that wretch doing here? Syyss... But wait! I bring news! Haste, follow!’ He turned and scampered off in the direction of his coming.

At once Silval and Elvra sprang after him, though Corin hesitated.

But Falnir said, ‘You go Avarhli. Dalen and I will watch over Pitrag and bring him along presently.’

When Corin reached the others they were already standing at the edge of the beech line, staring out from beneath its shadows. Beyond them rose green, pine clad hills still moist with morning mists.

‘Up there,’ said Silval without turning. ‘At the crest of the eastward peaks. Smoke! There may be folk beyond those hills!’

Chapter 26 [next]