Legacy of Power

Chapter 2

Early morning light was peeking up over the foothills in the distance by the time Jacek and Bandur, with the kid in tow, saw a farmhouse in the distance. They had run through a small forest for the best part of an hour, and even though the kid wasn't showing it, Jacek knew she must be frozen to the bone. He felt a little bad that he had nothing to give her. He wore only his leather hardened armor. She was a tough one, he'd give her that. His brain had been going as fast as his feet while they were running. How had this young elf come to be held prisoner in Krodon's fortress? If all the elves were truly dead, how was she still alive? Based on the stories told about them, he knew that elves aged differently to humans, but surely she wasn't over three hundred years old? She looked barely thirteen. And what was Krodon doing with her?He wasn't sure taking her along with him was a good idea. Considering she was an elf, Krodon would surely send everything he had after them to get her back. Helping people wasn't his thing. And he wasn't the only one. Folk around here generally weren't kind hearted souls who looked out for their fellow man. In this life, if you didn't look out for yourself first you got killed. That mantra had kept him alive all these years. And yet, she could be the key to helping him with his little problem...

Looking back at the girl to make sure she was still following, he saw she was panting, but otherwise didn't look too worse for wear. Her hands were surprisingly free of the blue tinge of frost burns. His own gloves were too big for her. He had to get her some warm clothes somehow. He turned back to eye up the farmhouse.

It looked like a cattle farm, owing to the few skinny cows sidled up to the fence on the other side of the house. The farmer must do alright to keep them alive through the worst of winter. He stopped at the fence surrounding the property and scanned the area, his gloved hands resting on the wooden railing.

"Where are we?" the girl asked, coming to a stop a few feet away, her hands planted on her knees while she got her breath back. She had a strange accent but Jacek guessed the elves didn't speak the human tongue three hundred years ago.

"Nowhere particular. I just figure I might be able to get you some clothes from here. Maybe they have a daughter." He turned to her, pulling off a large black kerchief from around his wrist. During the run feeling had started to come back to his hand, and he flexed it a little experimentally.

"I'm not too cold." She looked worriedly at the house.

Jacek raised an eyebrow at her. Was it an elf thing? He had no idea what their physiology was. There were only folk stories.

"Well, you're making me feel cold just looking at you, so we'll get you something. But first..." He brandished the kerchief.

"What is that for?"

He gestured to her head. "Your ears. Got to cover them up. Not sure if you noticed, but you're an endangered species around here. Money doesn't come easy, and I'm guessing that Warlord back there would probably pay a good reward for your return. Or at least pretend to pay it." Adding the last as an afterthought. Odds were, Krodon didn't pay for much these days. His company of men had grown over the last year. They had waded through the nearby town of Roguevale, taking what they wanted and leaving a lot of dead and disenfranchised in their wake.

"Oh." The girl hung her head. Jacek suddenly realized what his statement actually meant to her. Was she the last of her kind? Were her family all dead? Wordlessly, he passed her the kerchief, and she tied it around her small head, covering the telltale points on her ears.

She then pointed at him. "You have blood on you."

Of course, he'd forgotten. He wiped at his face, but it had largely dried now. He kneeled down and scooped up a handful of snow, rubbing it on his face. It came away with a crimson stain. After some vigorous rubbing, he looked back at the girl for inspection. She nodded. Satisfied, he turned back to the farmhouse and vaulted over the fence. Bandur slipped under the lower rail while the girl climbed through the middle gap.

The house was made of wood and hardened mud, thatched tightly with river reeds. It was as good a structure as one could get in Selendria. The farmer must have some decent resources. A barn sat further back behind the house, while smaller sheds and shelters dotted around a tidy snow-covered yard. The cows shuffled further away as they approached the front door. Jacek rapped on the door, hoping farm people really were early risers.

After a bit the latch clicked, and the door swung inward to reveal a man with a lined face and a surly disposition.

"What?" It was less of a question and more of a warning. Jacek noticed one hand was hidden behind the farmer's back and made a note to not act threatening in any way.