Such a thing had never been heard of before, surely.
They kept off the path but kept it in sight, staying near the bushes where they could easily hide if they saw anyone. But the road remained clear for five whole days, save the odd deer or warthog that Villid hunted and roasted.
The rainstorm had caused large sources of water to collect in the forest, but after a few days the puddles dried and Aya didn’t know where there was another river. They drank warthog blood, but it tasted awful and made her sick.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed after she had vomited in a nearby bush for the second time that morning. Villid shook his head. “We’ll find a river,” he reassured her. “Let me carry you for a while. ”
At first Aya had refused, disliking the idea of showing Villid weakness, but eventually agreed after realising that she slowed them down.
It wasn’t until late one starry night that they met anyone. Villid was woken by the sound of clopping hooves and hushed voices; it sounded like two or three men travelling on a horse and carriage. Villid gently shook Aya awake, and they crouched and listened.
“... shouldn’t be much farther,” said a deep voice over the horse’s hooves. “We’ve seen no one who’s recognised us so far...”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” said a second voice which was almost the opposite to the first; high and wheezy. “Nobody knows about it, it’s better if we don’t see anyone, that means no one can see us.”
“I think I did see someone whilst you were sleeping,” said the first voice. “Elf women. Beautiful creatures.”
“You saw E lves?” the wheezy voice whispered. “Real Elves? You’re not serious?”
“Of course I am,” the first voice sounded pleased. “There was one – she must have been a lady or countess for sure – beautiful long hair and silver robes that glittered. I was going to talk to them, but they looked terrified and sped off before I could stop them.”
The second man gave an impressed grunt. The voices sounded dangerously close. The sound of hooves suddenly stopped. There was an eerie silence. Aya and Villid froze for a moment – had they been found?
“Let’s stop here for the night,” said the first voice, and Aya exhaled in relief. Villid edged towards the bushes and peered out of the leaves. Two human men, both crouched and dressed in dark tunics and capes, were edging themselves off a huge brown carriage and opening bedrolls at the side of the road, barely ten feet from where he and Aya knelt.
They watched as the shorter of the two men disappeared into the carriage for a moment, then leapt out, holding dusty-looking bottles over his head in triumph. “Let’s celebrate,” he smiled to his companion, who gave a loud laugh and took a bottle.
“To a successful catch!” said the deep-voiced man.
“To getting away!” said the second.
“To a fine collection of scrolls and gold that will last a lifetime!” said the first.
“Not to mention a fine horse, a beautiful carriage and more liquor than we can hope to ever drink,” said the other.
Liquor, a carriage, gold... they were definitely humans. Aya and Villid waited a while; the men sat with their backs to them and started a large fire, singing old folk songs merrily as they drank through several of the dusty bottles, toasting to everything they could think of, and roaring with laughter at nothing. Villid put a finger to his lips, and when Aya nodded, slowly crept out of the bush behind them.
Neither human had noticed him. He wasn’t planning to kill them – this was no battle, and although it was two-on-two, there was no need for them to die. Instead Villid crept so close to them that they must have felt his breath on the backs of their necks, then suddenly knocked their skulls together with a sickening crack. They both fell to the floor, completely stunned, their eyes lolling to the backs of their heads and their mouths gaping open stupidly.
Aya, desperately thirsty from days without
They kept off the path but kept it in sight, staying near the bushes where they could easily hide if they saw anyone. But the road remained clear for five whole days, save the odd deer or warthog that Villid hunted and roasted.
The rainstorm had caused large sources of water to collect in the forest, but after a few days the puddles dried and Aya didn’t know where there was another river. They drank warthog blood, but it tasted awful and made her sick.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed after she had vomited in a nearby bush for the second time that morning. Villid shook his head. “We’ll find a river,” he reassured her. “Let me carry you for a while. ”
At first Aya had refused, disliking the idea of showing Villid weakness, but eventually agreed after realising that she slowed them down.
It wasn’t until late one starry night that they met anyone. Villid was woken by the sound of clopping hooves and hushed voices; it sounded like two or three men travelling on a horse and carriage. Villid gently shook Aya awake, and they crouched and listened.
“... shouldn’t be much farther,” said a deep voice over the horse’s hooves. “We’ve seen no one who’s recognised us so far...”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” said a second voice which was almost the opposite to the first; high and wheezy. “Nobody knows about it, it’s better if we don’t see anyone, that means no one can see us.”
“I think I did see someone whilst you were sleeping,” said the first voice. “Elf women. Beautiful creatures.”
“You saw E lves?” the wheezy voice whispered. “Real Elves? You’re not serious?”
“Of course I am,” the first voice sounded pleased. “There was one – she must have been a lady or countess for sure – beautiful long hair and silver robes that glittered. I was going to talk to them, but they looked terrified and sped off before I could stop them.”
The second man gave an impressed grunt. The voices sounded dangerously close. The sound of hooves suddenly stopped. There was an eerie silence. Aya and Villid froze for a moment – had they been found?
“Let’s stop here for the night,” said the first voice, and Aya exhaled in relief. Villid edged towards the bushes and peered out of the leaves. Two human men, both crouched and dressed in dark tunics and capes, were edging themselves off a huge brown carriage and opening bedrolls at the side of the road, barely ten feet from where he and Aya knelt.
They watched as the shorter of the two men disappeared into the carriage for a moment, then leapt out, holding dusty-looking bottles over his head in triumph. “Let’s celebrate,” he smiled to his companion, who gave a loud laugh and took a bottle.
“To a successful catch!” said the deep-voiced man.
“To getting away!” said the second.
“To a fine collection of scrolls and gold that will last a lifetime!” said the first.
“Not to mention a fine horse, a beautiful carriage and more liquor than we can hope to ever drink,” said the other.
Liquor, a carriage, gold... they were definitely humans. Aya and Villid waited a while; the men sat with their backs to them and started a large fire, singing old folk songs merrily as they drank through several of the dusty bottles, toasting to everything they could think of, and roaring with laughter at nothing. Villid put a finger to his lips, and when Aya nodded, slowly crept out of the bush behind them.
Neither human had noticed him. He wasn’t planning to kill them – this was no battle, and although it was two-on-two, there was no need for them to die. Instead Villid crept so close to them that they must have felt his breath on the backs of their necks, then suddenly knocked their skulls together with a sickening crack. They both fell to the floor, completely stunned, their eyes lolling to the backs of their heads and their mouths gaping open stupidly.
Aya, desperately thirsty from days without
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