The Grey Pearl (Of Caladuin: Volume Two)

5

Ethirost's early years were plagued by attacks by the Dolendrim of the nearby forest. With no defensive walls, the town protected itself with narrow winding streets. It was easy to get lost in this labyrinth and Caladuin admitted that if need be, he would find it difficult to find his way back to the harbour.

Gaeruil led him in the general direction of the southern hill. They turned left then right, up steps, across small squares until Caladuin had no inkling of the direction they were headed. Gradually, a feeling of doubt grew: they seemed to have looped back on themselves more than once. And, assuming that the Governor's Halls were at the top of one of these hills, his guide was making no attempt to climb either.

Presently they emerged onto a large square. It was flanked by large handsome buildings around a large fountain but it was almost deserted. Indeed, the few Elves they passed since they left the harbour had been Dolendrim. Most of the taverns and shops were closed although the smell of cooking filled the air.

Gaeruil led him diagonally across a corner of the square and took an alley between a bakery and a cobbler's shop. As soon as they were cloaked in shadows, he yanked Caladuin by the arm into a recessed doorway. "We are being followed," he hissed.

Now it all made sense: his guide was trying to elude their pursuer. With a gesture, he urged Caladuin to stay well back in the shadow of the recess, even stretching his arm across to bar him in. Intermittently, he peeked around the corner towards the square. After a while he relaxed.

"Come," he murmured and led Caladuin back to the square. The doubt in his mind was growing and now he walked with his thumb tucked into his belt, next to his knife.

After crossing the square, they finally started climbing a long stairway up the northern hill. Every so often the stair levelled out into a wide landing that led off left and right down quiet side streets. At the third such landing, they turned left into a street so narrow that Caladuin could easily reach out and touch the opposite walls with his fingertips.

As they walked, the lamps of the stair started to fade until they were in complete darkness. Here the buildings seemed to lean in towards each other and the thin strip of sky above offered little starlight. It would take a few moments for his eyes to adjust and then he would be able to see shapes and movement. Now he could hear Gaeruil breathing.

Soon, all he could see of his guide was a faint nebulous shape before him. But it was the sound that he reacted to first: a harsh gritty scrape as Gaeruil spun around on his toes. Caladuin threw himself against the wall and felt his attacker's arm brush past him. He brought his fist up fast, hoping to hook the Dark-elf's arm but felt his knuckles brush against his sleeve. Again, instinct took over and he reached across his body and yanked his knife from its sheath, making a wide arc up and across. He felt the tip of the blade snag on something. This Gaeruil was quick and agile: he must've ducked down before the knife could make good. Expecting a parry, Caladuin slid across the street in a small arc so that Gaeruil was between him and the lamps of the stairway. Now he had the advantage. He crouched and jabbed at the silhouette but he evaded him again. Another scuffing sound and Gaeruil's arm rose up. The faintest glint of lamplight betrayed the knife in his hand. Caladuin swapped his own knife to his other hand and swiped at Gaeruil's descending arm. This time there was jarring pain as his forearm rammed into Gaeruil's. He was about to parry when more pain exploded in his wrist. The Dark-elf must've kicked him. His knife escaped from his crippled hand and tinkled on the cobblestones. He felt a strong tugging at his hip as Gaeruil tried to pull the quiver from his belt. Again, he swiped at Gaeruil's arm but failed to knock the knife from his hand. He kicked him in the knee and Gaeruil made a sound for the first time: an enraged grunt. Again, the knife glinted and this time Caladuin's aim was true: his fingers clamped around his opponent's wrist. Another tug at his hip and the sound of his arrows cascading onto the stone. He spun and put all his weight into his shoulder, pinning the Dark-elf's wrists to the wall. In retaliation, Gaeruil headbutted him and the pain spurted from his nose across his face. Caladuin rammed his fist into the side of Gaeruil's head then started pounding his opponent's knife hand against the wall. Once he had the knife it would be over.

At this thought, Caladuin felt Gaeruil's whole body relax. For an instant he didn't understand but then he took a step back. A knife had appeared in the Dark-elf's throat, the tip of the blade on one side and the hilt on the other. He made wet, choking sounds and even in the darkness, Caladuin could sense the helpless outrage in his eyes. The Dark-elf fumbled at his throat with weak fingers. Caladuin eased the knife from his hand and watched him slide down the wall until the choking sounds stopped.

He looked along the street. An elleth was striding towards him, holding aloft a small lantern. In her other hand she held a long-knife and its twin was sheathed across her back. He tightened his fist around the knife.