Chapter Twenty
The united Elf and Dwarf forces set out from the rendezvous point an hour before sunrise, some on foot, others on horseback. The retaking of Kevello had not gone as smoothly as the liberation of Calendenny, and one of Doren’s men, Arno, had suffered a vicious sword wound. Mirta had volunteered to stay behind and look after him, while the remainder of the able-bodied men and women of Kevello and Calendenny were quickly marshaled into a makeshift army armed with bows, swords, hunting knives, wood axes, and assorted farm implements. One of the Elf women raised an improvised battle standard, made from stitched-together bath linens.
Tony and Caroline walked side by side near the head of the assemblage as it made its way across the rolling landscape towards the castle. No signs of pursuit or any reaction from the Wolf King were evident; it was almost disconcertingly quiet. The only sounds were occasional muted birdcalls and the rustle of feet and hooves moving through grass. The morning air was chilly, yet somehow invigorating when drawing breath, as if charged with some electric, eldritch energy.
Caroline turned to Tony.
“Am I supposed to become some kind of butt-kicking, monster-slaying warrior babe now?”
“If we stick close to Rumil and Doren we should be alright. The Wolf King’s men aren’t real soldiers. They’re no different than he is, probably -- just a bunch of nerds playing soldier. Once they realize their weapons are useless they’ll surrender. I hope.”
“Got any ideas if that dragon shows up?”
“I thought I might try screaming my head off, but I’m not sure if that would help.”
“Ha.”
Rumil trotted his horse up to Tony’s side.
“Not losing your nerve, I trust, Anthony?”
“I’ll be okay.”
“It was once prophesied at Kevello that two Other Worlders would come to liberate us from the tyranny of the Wolf King.”
“Are you being serious?” asked Caroline.
“No. I just thought that I’d say something to bolster your courage. Never mind.”
Rumil guided his horse up to a lead position ahead of the army and Tony returned to his morose musings.
“Hold!” commanded Vanaya. “The scout.”
A man dressed in Elf camouflage materialized out of the early morning gloom and swiftly walked to the vanguard of the Elf and Dwarf army.
“There is still no sign of enemy activity,” he reported. “The land bridge is clear. No army marches out to greet us.”
“Could we still have the advantage of surprise?” asked Vanaya.
“That would seem unlikely,” replied Doren. “I fear there is somethin’ else at play here.”
“I tend to agree. We must quicken our pace. The sun will soon arise.”
***
The first rays of the morning sun streaked across the sky as Selwys Castle loomed into view. The pointing claw of rock stood just ahead. The Elves and Dwarves fell into uneasy silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Foster Children of Time
Science FictionTEMPORAL AFFAIRS Tony Marco doesn’t have his driver’s license yet but he has a ticket to ride a bus – a Time Bus. Soon after the start of his sophomore year at Diaz High School, he and his irrepressible friend Caroline Montano catch a free ride to...
