Treachery's wake

5

They shuffled through the forest as fast as Malthooz's wounds would allow. Vadania held an arm under the half-orc's shoulder, letting him rest some of his weight on her. The burns on his skin looked to be superficial, but the druid knew that they were probably agonizing to bear and that they were made more so by each step he took. She didn't have time to stop and administer a healing spell.

From somewhere behind her, Vadania heard the underbrush being trampled aside. Whatever was after them was moving through the forest with abandon. She heard branches snapping and could just make out the rhythmic booming of massive footsteps. Whatever she heard, the druid realized it must be huge, considered the spacing between its thumping footsteps. She pushed Malthooz harder as she sensed the sounds gaining on them. She could almost feel the monster's breath on the back of her neck. Vadania glanced back over her shoulder but saw no sign of any pursuer. Twigs brushed her face as they fled, leaving fine traces of blood on her cheeks. She urged Malthooz on, alternately dragging and pushing him. The half-orc's eyes were wide with fear.

Vadania knew the general direction of the camp, but not precisely how far she'd come. Malthooz's call had set her in motion and she'd been too intent on finding the half-orc to notice the distance she'd covered reaching the pool. Her legs burned as she drove them for all their worth.

In the distance, Vadania saw a flicker of fire. She headed straight for the light, dragging the half-orc beside her. Malthooz looked as if he was near the point of passing out. All color was drained from his cheeks and his breath came in ragged gasps. The druid shouted as they neared the circle of the camp, though she was certain the others must have heard the sounds of their crashing approach.

Mialee rushed to Vadania's side as the fleeing pair stumbled into the clearing. She grabbed Malthooz from the druid's grasp and tried ineffectually to support his bulk, but they both spun into the brush on the far side of the camp and collapsed in a tangle of branches.

Krusk was on his feet, moving to the edge of the firelight as the grayish mass of a troll burst through the underbrush on the heels of the druid. He extended his axe in front of himself as the creature rolled over him. One enormous arm swept across the barbarian's side as the troll lumbered past, the knuckles of its other hand dragging along the ground. Krusk doubled over from the impact of the monster's fist slamming into his side and he reeled into the trees.

Lidda grabbed a burning branch from the fire and shoved it into Vadania's hand.

"Take this," she said. "They hate it."

The troll stopped at the sight of the flames and batted at the druid with two bulky hands as it tried to get at her. It moved its misshapen and hunched body awkwardly. Vadania knew that its mortal fear of fire would only discourage the beast for a short time. She held the makeshift torch in front of herself, waving it in the troll's face. The sputtering tip of the branch highlighted the creature's rubbery skin and a putrid, green mass of writhing flesh atop its head. It looked more like folds of leather cord than hair. A long bunch of the stuff dangled in front of the creature's mouth, a cruel approximation of a nose. Stubs of teeth lined it's jaw, worn smooth from gnawing through the bones of its prey, and yellow, syrupy saliva dripped from its chin.

The troll sprang. Vadania dodged to the side and it flew past her. The monster landed on the far side of the camp and spun around. Vadania's shoulders heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Before she could blink, the thing was coming back at her. It covered the ground between them in seconds, moving with a sudden grace that belied its clumsy appearance and its earlier attacks. She dived aside again as the thing came at her, swinging massive, clawed fists.

Krusk used the handle of his weapon to lever himself onto his feet. A quick shake cleared his head and he charged the beast, a yell blasting from his throat. His axe slashed down, severing one of the troll's arms below the elbow. The limb spun to the dirt, but it did not simply lie there. The detached claw scrabbled through the damp leaves of the forest floor, scooting along the ground in a wide arc. The troll swatted Krusk aside and grabbed for its severed body part. The beast held the wriggling limb up to the stump at its elbow. Green blood dripping from the end of the wounded arm bubbled as the missing part touched it. With a sickening, squishing sound, the two halves fused together.

"How can we fight such a being?" Vadania yelled as she rolled to her feet.

She cast the torch aside and drew her scimitar, stepping around to the far side of the fire, keeping the flames between herself and the troll. She wished that she hadn't wasted her own fire spell on the mephit.

Mialee came to the druid's side waving a torch in one hand and sending a barrage of magic missiles into the troll from the tip of the other. The wizard's bolts sizzled through the tough skin of the troll's side.

"We'll never outrun the thing," Mialee gasped.

She whipped the flaming branch around and caught the monster in its side, just below the blackened holes where her magic struck.

The troll lashed out at Mialee with its clublike hands and claws, grabbing at her neck. Mialee ducked under the troll's swing, but saw the thick, razor-sharp nails sail over her head and shred the bark of a nearby tree.

Lidda scampered nimbly between the legs of the troll, hacking at its ankles as she passed. The size of her opponent dwarfed the halfling, making her appear no more than a child. A line of blood marked her weapon's path across the monster's stringy calf.

The four of them surrounded the thing, hacking with a renewed fury, trying to gain an advantage against flesh whose wounds healed before their eyes.

Vadania's stomach churned at the thought of the abomination they faced. It was a vulgar affront to the natural world, a cruel and twisted play on the eternal cycle of death and rebirth. The creature's metabolism was sped up to the point that harm was irrelevant. If that was the case, the druid thought, she must take the battle to the core of the process.

She concentrated her attack on the troll's neck, slashing with the tip of her scimitar at the corded muscles connecting the troll's head to its body. Living flesh closed around her blade, sticking it fast. Fighting against her own revulsion as much as the troll's flailing claws, she dug her weapon into the base of the monster's skull. She hammered the heel of her hand against the hilt of her sword, driving the blade through layers of tissue and bone, probing for the soft brain beneath.

She felt something give and realized it was the sword's tip piercing the back of the cranium. The troll dropped to its knees. Its arms still flailed, but without conscious control, only reflex. Vadania jumped back, leaving her sword in the troll's head.

The beast clawed at the scimitar. Its scaly grip locked around the weapon's cross hilt and tried to pull it free of the bone, but its strength was failing fast. Krusk stepped directly in front of the beast and raised his axe. The troll's horrid screech drowned the whistle of the axe until the blade sliced through the neck, just below Vadania's sword. The headless body tumbled sideways as the head, its eyes still rolling and the jaws snapping, rolled to Krusks's feet.

"The fire!" Vadania yelled.

Krusk picked up the head and held it at arm's length. The mass of skin writhed around his fingers as he carried it across the clearing and tossed it into the blaze. The stink of burning flesh fouled the area as flames licked up the troll's face. The flesh blackened, smoked, and split before the troll's eyes finally stopped rolling from side to side and only a blackened skull remained.

The others quickly hacked the body to pieces as it thrashed on the ground, knowing that within minutes it could regenerate even its lost skull and brain. The oozing parts were dragged or kicked into the firepit. Within minutes, all traces of the beast were gone, except for bloodstains on the ground and an unbearable stench in the air.

"What manner of beast was that?" Krusk asked as he shoved his axe into the fire.

Orange flames engulfed the blade, spitting and hissing as the thick, green blood coating its surface was consumed. Lidda moved about the camp, looking for bits of the creature.

"Troll," she said. "The bad news, there's likely to be more."

Vadania knelt by Malthooz's side. The half-orc was wedged into a tangle of roots where he lay all through the fight. His pupils were huge and his skin was even more ashen than its normal, gray hue. She waved her hand in front of his face. Malthooz stared past the druid, as though he was looking at something in the distance, or nothing at all.

"He's in shock," Vadania announced, placing her palm on his forehead.

She muttered softly over the half-orc's body and he relaxed, the calm spreading downward from his face as the druid's healing magic took effect.

"That should calm his nerves," she said, and she joined her companions near the fire. Looking at the charred ends of bones lying amidst the embers, she added, "I've no mind to pass the night here, but he needs to rest before we press on. He's had quite a scare."

Krusk pushed past Vadania and grabbed Malthooz, lifting him from the ground.

"I'll carry him," Krusk said. "We can't face another of those things."

He wrapped his arm under Malthooz's and heaved the limp form over his shoulder, then moved off. Vadania started after the barbarian but Mialee's hand pulled her back.

"He's right," she said.

Lidda passed by the druid, her backpack over her shoulder, her short sword and crossbow slung over her back. Vadania watched the rogue follow Krusk into the darkness. She lifted Mialee's hand from her own and grabbed her things.

"We've got to do something about that one," the druid said.

"Krusk or Malthooz?" Mialee asked as she started down the trail.

Vadania thought for a moment before answering, "Both."

They moved as fast as the situation allowed. Krusk was not slowed much by the extra weight, and Vadania knew that he was still working off the steam of battle. For all his outward gruffness, the druid did notice that the barbarian shielded Malthooz from the branches that hung across the trail and moved him carefully around the fallen trees that lay across the path.

She felt a growing affinity for Malthooz even though he was proving to be more trouble than he was worth. She also understood the frustration that he felt with Krusk. It was a frustration all of them dealt with from time to time. They'd learned to take the barbarian's temperament in stride. Vadania couldn't imagine the brute without his crotchety attitude. It was his essential characteristic, even if it was an exhausting trait. Still, for all of his grouchiness, Krusk was a rock of reliability in a world of shifting alliances. His dependability was unwavering and his bark far worse than his bite, provided you were on the right side of his axe.

Malthooz was a different matter. Something about his stubbornness reminded the druid of Krusk. There was no reason why he should be with them, and he was learning that the world of hired swords was more dangerous than he ever imagined. Yet he had chosen to come along, still believing that he could get Krusk to go home with him. The druid admired the principle behind Malthooz's determination. He was putting his own neck on the line for the sake of his people.

Vadania thought that she understood the kinship between the half-orcs. She would never call it love, at least on Krusk's part, but it was certainly real. The barbarian showed no genuine need for close emotional ties. His quick temper, however, sometimes betrayed something deeper. The only people who ever felt it were bitter enemies and close friends. Malthooz had to fall into the latter category.

As the night pressed on, Vadania sensed that the forest was changing around them. She caught the scent of salt in the air and knew that the ocean was not far off. She was tired beyond belief and needed rest if she hoped to use her magic in the days ahead. Waves of fatigue moved through her muscles and her mind was clouded with the strain of their flight.

She moved ahead to confer with the others, and they decided to pass the remaining hours of darkness on the edge of the coast away from the forest and another attack from its numerous dangers.

The druid used the promise of rest to keep her moving the final few miles. Even Krusk looked as if he needed sleep, she thought, as they cleared the edge of the forest and collapsed on the sand.