The Prophesy: Book 1 - Cave Lupus

 

Centurion Yamato had yet to give his report, this having been delayed by the necessity of water, and the preparation of the meat for curing. As the column started its journey the next day at prime, Dunbar, Annabelle, Yamato and Harold met in the Legate's cart.

"So, Yamato, what do you have to tell us that has you smiling from ear to ear since you have been sent on that expedition, two days ago?"

"Harold, we found that the entrance led to what was once a wide road, that has been severely undermined by the forest's re-growth. However, the big trees are essentially found on the side of the road, and the road itself is covered by a thick cover of bushes, most of them filled with long and sharp needles. Now, they have suffered greatly from the prolonged dry spell we have had. Did you notice that, apart from the storm we had in the pass and the couple of snowstorms since then, there has been little precipitation? Even the stream we got water from was low, and yet the culvert showed it was designed for a volume at least one hundred time the size we observed."

"Yes, that is one thing I have noticed. This is also why I have made it clear to all they must use extreme care with fire. One spark at the bad place, left unattended, and we have a forest fire on our hands. The situation is extremely volatile. I feel like I'm walking in a tinderbox."

"Yes, quite true. We followed the road, on foot, so as not to leave hoof marks and indicate our presence, and after about an hour, we found ourselves on another road that seemed to be in use. I sent two men up and down the road, with strict instructions to stay within the forest parallel to the road. One team came back with the news that the road was indeed the one we are following; the other made it to the stream, but did not go investigate, as there was an important party of orcs there. They are definitely up to no good."

"I would have expected as much from these rascals. They must know that crossing the bridge there is risky and that we wouldn't dare come charging down the mountainside to the bridge, head first. We are vulnerable during attack, from both ends of the bridge," informed Dunbar. "Any idea of what to do?"

Harold, that had been scratching a pup's ears while listening to the report, finally piped up; looking at Annabelle, he said, "Do the unexpected."

"What do you mean?" wanted to know Annabelle, intrigued by this comment.

"They expect us to come down that mountainside, crawling, let's double-cross them and never come down from that mountain, but rather send down our common enemy, fire."

"That's an interesting proposition, Harold, but how do you plan to proceed with this?" asked, intrigued, Yamato.

"First, we must maintain our regular progress, in order to build a pattern of behaviour that will create a false knowledge base for the orcs. Yamato, at our current rate of progression we will reach the place we usually enter the forest to reach the artificial mountain in about two days, right?"

"Yes. That estimate is about correct."

"How long will it take to reach the point where your legionnaires found the old road meets the one we are following?"

"Add another seven days."

"That gives us nine days to create false expectations in the orcs. If we add today, that brings the total to ten days."

"Correct."

"And how long to get to the entrance from the road, if we did it in the day?"

"About until sext to get the first cart in the rotunda, legate, and by vespers, we would all be in it."

"The idea is simple, but must be timed perfectly. I propose this: We follow our current path until the area where we are to enter the forest to go to the entrance. During the day, we push the orcs as far away from the road as we can, clearly telling them we know they are there and that they are up to no good. At night, we fortify ourselves. They will undoubtedly interpret this in a predictable way: we know you are there and we won't give up easily in your trap. The orcs are not dumb, they know they have us, or so they think. They will leave us alone during the day, waiting for us at the bridge. At night they will come closer to check on our progress, just to make sure we are following the timetable they will have estimated. So far, everyone agrees?"

Annabelle, Dunbar and Yamato all agreed, and Harold resumed telling them of his idea.

"One thing I am sure they will not do is cross the road uselessly, because it would divide their forces. They will stay on their side and keep shadowing us. I shall not give them any leeway on the side where the mountain is; any orc found on that side of the road has to be tracked and killed. Any activity we do there must be kept secret."

Changing position so the pup would be a little less interested in licking his face, Harold continued: "The day before we enter the forest, I want a path marked in the bushes, that we will follow with the caravan to the entrance. While some mark the path with white pebbles, others will cut the brushes, but make sure they stay upright and look undisturbed. It will take the centurie responsible for this a whole day, but two more will make sure their work remains undetected. The centuries involved will enter the forest from the position we will be on the road an hour before prime, and will walk silently in file to the road that is to be cleared. Annabelle, I am assigning second, third and fourth centurie to this task; third centurie is to mark and 'clear' the road, the others are to make sure the area is clear of any indiscreet eyes or ears."

"That is a nice plan, but the orcs will realize we're gone by the next evening and they will start searching for us!" remarked Dunbar.

"I count on that, Dunbar, I count on it very much indeed. Annabelle, how many fire pots do we still have from the battle at the Rock?"

"About a hundred."

"More than enough to start a nice forest fire, don't you think? I expect the orcs will be running for their lives less than ten minutes after they trigger the fireworks!"

"But once the fire is past, they will find our trail," replied Dunbar, deciding to play the Devil's advocate.

"Yamato, you bought a piece of that road. Show it to Dunbar, please."

Yamato produced a chunk of hardened agglomerate, whitish on the surface, but where there was a fresh break, black and gooey. Taking the piece from Yamato's hand, Harold passed it around.

"This is some type of tar, and it seems to have covered most of the roads the Ancients built. It burns marvellously well, and melts giving a thick black cloud in the process. Any trace of our passage will vanish with the forest fire, as it will destroy this and any marking we may have made on the trees. To make sure the markings really disappear, I plan to use naturally occurring things, like sooth, to mark the area we will actually use. The white pebbles will be covered in sooth as well, by the burn."

"That seems to hold," commented Annabelle. "The trap can be set by the legionnaires during the night before we turn into the forest. The next morning, just before we start moving, legionnaires go orc hunting, pushing them back in the forest, thus matching our previous days' behaviour. They make sure they are back as rear guard by sext, and set the trap by stringing the area. However, Harold, I suggest we limit the number of fire pots to twenty-five. This is a limited resource, and we may not be able to replenish our supply for quite a while."

"Agreed, Annabelle."

***

That day, the Healer came to see Harold to talk about her special customer.

"Legate Harold, I am worried," she started, "Physically, he is healed, but he seems utterly folded on himself. He gives all signs of a deep depression, and I have no idea what to do. The Ancients had drugs for this, medications, but the secret of their making was lost. We need to find something to get him to open up."

"Is he strong enough to receive visitors?"

"Yes, but, unless he wills himself to move around, things will start to deteriorate. I think he is willing himself to death. I suspect he has not yet realized he is no longer a prisoner even if he does know he is no longer with the orcs. It could be he sees us as slavers."

"I think I have the perfect solution, Healer. Harp wants to visit the Elf, and he has just the good disposition to make the child laugh. He even considered bringing one of the pups with him, but I do not know if it is a good idea."

"Pups? What pups?"

"Oh, you have been more busy than I thought if you did not notice we now have two dogs and six pups around!"

"Ah, and where do they come from?"

"They are the family dogs of Sitar and Harp. So far, they have been very nice, and housebroken, except for the pups, but that part is being dealt with by Paschal, Sitar, and Harp. And, I might add, by every child able to walk around!"

"I agree to Harp coming to visit the elf with one pup, it might help the child to open up. I heard about zoo-therapy for the depressed; the Ancients practiced it so I figure it must have some value. I'm willing to give it a try, I am at my wits' end."

"Is your estimate of another ten days before he is healed correct?"

"Not if nothing changes. However, I do not know how fast an Elf heals, once healing begins in earnest."

"I understand. What about Annabelle's condition? When can we expect our child?"

"She is near. I would expect the child to be born near the equinox, which will, this year, be at the full moon. It has been difficult to estimate the count of days lately, if only because the cloud cover has been dense, and now, the forest hides the night sky."

"Thank you, I shall bring Harp and the pup he selects to your cart shortly."

Harold found Harp with Sitar, who was counting the bell tics as Harold's cart moved along the road.

"Sitar, can I borrow Harp and one of the pups for a while? I want to get them to the elf and see if it will help him find interest in life again."

Sitar looked at Harp, who was playing with a nice female pup, under the watchful eyes of her mother. Harp immediately picked the pup up and got ready to go, not waiting for his big brother's approval.

"I figure this is the best vote of confidence Harp can give you, Harold. He didn't even ask me for permission, so yes, he can go."

"Thank you, Sitar, thank you Harp. Come along."

Harold helped Harp get off the still moving cart, and then got the pup yelping from the cart's floor so Harp could carry it with him.

"So, Harp, have you given the pup a name yet?"

"Oh, yes, she is Nefertari; one of her sisters is Nefertiti, and the other is Hatshepsut."

"Strange names for dogs, aren't they?"

"Oh, I thought so, but my brother is a maniac of Egyptian history. He said these were famous queens of Egypt. Where is Egypt?"

"I should have guessed! After all, their mother is named Cleopatra, and is also a queen of Egypt! As for Egypt, it's a long-lost country of the Ancients, a kingdom, that was built along a powerful river that fed the Egyptians by flooding their valley every year, thus keeping the soil rich."

"That must have been messy! I saw a flood, when the stream near our farm overflowed, and the water was all muddy, and carried a lot of broken branches. Mummy told us to stay away from the water, because we would get carried away."

"She was right, you know, floods are dangerous."

By then, Harold and Harp, still carrying the pup, had reached the Master Healer's cart. Harold lifted Harp into the cart with the pup, and then jumped in.

"As promised, I bring you Harp, and the pup, named Nefertari, so they can visit the Elf. I hope this little flea bag will be of help in getting the Elf out of his shell."

"He is not a flea bag, he is a nice little pup!" complained Harp.

"I am just teasing Nefertari, Harp. I know she is not a flea bag!"

"Oh, OK!"

"Come with me and Nefertari, Harp. The elf is in this bed, behind the drapes," asked, gently, the healer, as she opened the wool separation.

Harp slowly came towards the Elf, careful not to scare him by rushing forward, holding the pup in his arms. He crouched on his hips, and deposited the pup on the bed sheets, and released her slowly.

At first, the Elf looked at the approaching boy with apprehension, and at the pup wide-eyed. The pup sat on the bed, not too sure what was expected of her. Harp scratched Nefertari behind the ears, then between the forepaws; immediately, the pup rolled over and offered her belly for a scratch. The elf smiled and put his hand over the bed sheets, waiting on the pup to come forth. After a few minutes, the pup turned on her belly and crawled to the proffered hand, to lick the fingers. To the relief of Harold and the healer the Elf's smile widened.

The pup then moved forward slowly, and began licking the Elf's face, eliciting giggles that spread from the Elf to Harp.

"That is a lot better! I had not heard his voice since he got rescued!" exclaimed the healer. "Harp, will you stay with him and Nefertari? This change of mood is better than any broth or medication I can give him."

"Yes, I shall. Harold, can you stay in the cart, please?"

"Yes, Harp, I shall stay with the healer, at the end of the cart, just a shout away."

The healer and Harold retired and sat on a free bed, listening to the attempts Harp made at getting the Elf to talk.

At first, the conversation was limited, since only Harp could be heard. He was definitely trying to introduce himself.

"Harp! Nefertari! Harp! Nefertari! " The pattern repeated itself for a few more times, before another voice was heard:

"Enron."

"Harp, Nefertari, Enron?" to which the same melodious voice replied "Harp, Nefertari, Enron!"

"Well, we know his name, now; it is Enron," commented the healer. "I wonder if they speak the same language we do?"

"I do not know, but leave it to Harp to figure this out," replied Harold. "How long can we leave them together?"

"I shall let this continue for another half an hour, then let Enron rest until sext. By then, I would like Harp to return, preferably with the same pup."

"OK, I shall explain this to Harp when the time comes."

The two tried to communicate for the next half an hour, but, clearly, the elves did not speak the same language as Harp. However, neither gave up and spent their time pointing at things and exchanging object names.

Harold picked up Harp and Nefertari to bring them back to his cart, promising Harp he would bring him back, with the pup, as soon as sext was reached and the caravan stopped for the day.

"Why don't you bring food and your flute as well? Maybe Enron would love to hear you play?" offered Harold.

"Oh yes, oh yes! That is a great idea!" exclaimed Harp. "Do you think that Nefertari can eat solid food yet?"

"More than likely. Her mother will be pleased when the pups are fully weaned."

"You think so?" Harp asked, looking wide-eyed at the healer.

"Oh yes, definitely. Nefertari has teeth by now, and sometimes, sucking must hurt Cleopatra."

"Oh, OK! Come on Nefertari, meat breakfast for you today!"

"Legate Harold, I shall ask that the leather man do a collar and a leash for each pup. They can not go running around between carts while we move, and I suspect it would do for a lot of tears if one of the pups got hurt."

"I agree, healer. Thank you for offering to do this."

The Elf, albeit sad to see Harp go, figured things were not all bad, since Harp seemed to be joyful. He did not understand that guttural language, but facial expressions could be figured out. Anyways, he was feeling tired, and soon after Harp left, he fell asleep.

***

As he was returning with Harold to the Legate's cart, Harp looked pensive, and his unusual quietness did not go unnoticed by Harold.

"Is something bothering you, Harp?"

"Yes, Harold. Why doesn't he speak like we do?"

"Oh, that; first, let me ask you this: Is there nothing common between his language and ours?"

Thoughtful, Harp took a while to answer. "No, there are common words, but said differently; then there are words that sound the same but do not mean the same thing; and finally, there are words that do not sound at all the same for similar objects."

"This tells me Elvin, for lack of a better name, is derived from a common language that is ancestral to both us and the elves. Languages, like people, evolve. If there has been enough time to create the orcs, us, the elves, and the priests, there has been more than enough time for language to evolve as well, given a language is a cultural construct not protected by a genetic binder. And that genetic binder has not been strong enough to keep our common ancestry from drifting apart, so imagine the question of language or, for that matter, social mores."

"That's complicated. You must be very old to know all that stuff!"

"I don't know about being old, as you say, Harp, but sometimes I feel like I've lived many a lifetime! But yes, Harp, I am a lot older than you are, at least four times older than you. Does this make me old? Age is something relative to who looks at it, Harp. For instance, your brother is three times your age, but I am not twice his age."

"You lost me!"

"It's ok, Harp. You will understand later."

"Harold, will you be my daddy?"

That question took Harold totally by surprise.

"I would love to, Harp. You are a boy any man in his right mind would be proud to call his son. But we need to check with your brother first, don't you think?"

"OK, but if you want to be my dad, will 'Belle be my mom?"

"I think so, but don't you think that we should ask her too?"

"Oh, yes, that's true. And if you and 'Belle are my new parents, will Paschal be our big brother? I would love that! He is so kind! And Sitar and Paschal seem to enjoy each other a lot!"

"Paschal in not my son, but I would love to have him too, you know. Maybe we could ask him?"

"Oh yes! I would love to!"

***

The caravan had barely halted for the day that the pups were taken on a potty run along the road by the children and teens of the caravan as soon as it had halted its progress, and Cleopatra had nursed them for a bit before regurgitating meat for them. This behaviour did not go unnoticed by Harp, who promised himself to ask the Healer about it.

Nefertari had been the charge of Harp, while the other females of the litter were handled by two other children and teens; Sitar and Paschal took Caesar, Claudius and Brutus for their potty run, while Blackie and Cleopatra took the opportunity to do their business.

Training and hunting would resume after sext and the accompanying meal. The hunting party included Blackie, but Cleopatra declined and stayed with the pups in Harold's cart.

Harp got Sitar and Paschal together in the healer's cart to visit the Elf, along with Nefertari. The three boys collected food for the elf and themselves, along with tidbits of food for Nefertari, and hurried to the Healer's cart. They got in quietly, and proceeded to where Enron was laying in bed. To Harp's surprise, Enron was sitting up, rather than lying down. This brought a wide grin to Harp, and an equivalent grin from the Elf.

The ritual of introduction repeated itself, and the exchange of linguistic terms and rules proceeded apace, creating raucous laughter from all parties. The sound was so loud none of the boys noticed the arrival of the healer. She peeked inside the Elf's room and smiled; she was quite happy at the activity she was seeing. The elf was eating the food the boys had brought with them and the pup was playing with everyone, running around trying to beg tidbits of food from everyone.

Finally, the Elf asked with some explicit motions, for the potty, and Paschal got it for him; meanwhile, Harp got to the back of the cart and found the healer writing in her logbook.

"Healer?"

"My name is Francesca, Harp. What can I do for you?"

"Is it normal if Cleopatra throws up and the pups eat it? That seems so disgusting!"

"Yes that is all right, Harp; she is preparing them for total weaning by giving them their first taste of meat."

"Oh, OK, I didn't know!"

"That's all right, you can't know everything. When you don't know, just ask. Maybe I shall not know the answer, and I shall tell you so."

"Then I can ask Harold?"

"Yes, you can ask Harold," she replied, laughing.

***

Meanwhile, Harold had gone to visit Annabelle, who had moved to another mobile hospital cart, so as to rest more.

"How are you doing, Annabelle?"

"I'm doing fine thanks, Harold. And you?"

"I'm doing fine too. Harp took me by surprise this morning."

"Oh, isn't this becoming a habit of this little terror?"

"Well, that terror, as you say, would take you by surprise too. He asked me if I could be his dad!"

"And what did you answer?"

"That I would love to, but that he had to ask his big brother about it."

"Nice way of turning around the tree!"

"Well, it didn't stop there. The little imp wants to know if, me being his dad, you would accept being his mom 'Belle?"

"'Belle? Where does that come from?"

"Oh, I think he has problem saying your full name, or he tries to let us believe so, but something tells me it's more a trick than anything else. Anyways, 'Belle, you are as good as me at turning questions around! What do you make of this?"

"I find the idea appealing, if you want to know, and it's not because he calls me a beauty, either. I find the boy fascinating, to say the least."

"It doesn't stop there. He wants us to 'adopt' his brother Sitar, not that he used that fancy word. And he wants to know if Paschal is our son. If we follow his lead, we will have our family almost completed before you even give birth to our child!"

"I find the idea very moving, Harold. These three boys have had horrible lives so far, and I, for one, would love to have them as my sons; however, would Sitar and Paschal agree?"

"That, to be honest, is yet undetermined. However, leave it to Harp, and I'm sure he will be able to convince the two others it's the brightest idea since someone invented the wheel."

"Yes, he seems destined to be a great orator. I was listening to him talk with some of the older boys, and I'm sure he would have convinced some that leafs were money if he put himself to it!"

The two laughed at the idea of money made of leafs. Why not from paper? After all, who had ever heard of money not made out of precious metals such as gold, silver, bronze, or mithril? Especially mithril, since it was so rare and dated from the Ancients.

***

The next days were spent implementing Harold's plan, while the boys kept learning Elvin and teaching Franca Lingua³⁴³⁴ ("Franca Lingua: A derivative of English spoken at the time of the story.") to the Elf. They took turns keeping him company, and gradually introduced him to the pups and the adult dogs.

A few days before they reached their intended change of path, a decade of legionnaires caught a scout following them too close for comfort, so they disposed of him and left his head on a spike in the middle of the road, with the body hanging by the feet from an overhanging tree branch.

"They will slow down some, and stop tailgating us like hounds on a trail," commented the decurion to Harold. "We need to create a buffer between us and them if our next moves are to go unnoticed."

"Agreed. Tomorrow is orc-hunting season, so get your weapons ready. We need to act pissed at being boxed in. A show of fighting spirit will inspire some fear and respect while giving us the peace we need to set up the trap."

The next day, the usual contingent of legionnaires went out to force the orcs to retire further in the forest for the day. The engagements were brisk, noisy, and bloody, but the legionnaires only pushed them the usual two miles back from the road and then kept up to the column making sure the orcs could not come closer to spy during the day. As soon as the security distance was reached, the assigned centuries moved forward to the target area and spread out, two to keep away nosy visitors, and the other to prepare the path for the caravan the next morning. Another group went back on the road to verify that none of the orcs were any closer than deemed secure for the plan, and set up the first trigger. After long discussions, it had been decided to set a series of traps to make the road a little less engaging for the orcs. After all, walking in the forest was both slower, and a lot more treacherous. Forcing the orcs to walk off-road would slow them further, and let the legionnaires set up silent hidden triggers, something immensely more difficult on a road.

At sext, the caravan again halted, conforming to the orcs' expectations. At vespers, some legionnaires, wearing black masks and clothes, entered the forest, and monitored the movement of the orcs around their camp. A few scouts came, but none crossed the road, and none ventured close enough to be a threat. As soon as the spies left, the legionnaires set up the firetraps, and kept watch just in case an inopportune orc came to pass by and trigger the fires too early.

An hour before prime, the caravan lifted camp and engaged slowly in the abandoned road. The sentries around kept watch and no orc activity was detected. Just in case some orcs were tracking the road they had been following an oxen-drawn cart was pulled about fifty feet beyond the change of direction and then carefully backed up to take the last position in the convoy.

By sext, the first cart was, as planned, entering the rotunda and proceeding towards the hallway that led to the top of the T. As each cart entered, torches were lighted at the end of the previous cart, to indicate distance and guide the next one in the proper direction. By vespers the rear guard was closing in, and hiding the disturbance caused by the carts' passage. The traps were set on both sides of the roads and the centuries entered the rotunda, following the last cart, and repositioning the bushes.

It was decided that, after an hour of rest, the caravan would resume moving forward. It was expected that by matins, the first cart would be at the exit at the other end. A group of legionnaires went forward to verify that nothing had triggered the alarm, while the caravan rested. The rest period was used to water the animals, and dismantle and store the disguises.

***

The caravan had been progressing in the long hallway for about two hours, and it was around tierce when Harold, who had stayed with the rear guard, saw two legionnaires riding hard their horses catching up on the much slower caravan.

"Hey, what's the rush? I thought you were to monitor orc activity until we exited?"

"There is a lot of orc activity, Legate! A lot of leg activity! They are running down to the stream like all hell broke loose. The wind has picked up considerably, and the forest fire is moving on them at breakneck speed."

"I must also report that we heard the captains of the orc army argue. It seemed they are mystified by our tracks suddenly disappearing just at the top of that sharp descent! They called their trackers steel-faced idiots, and rotten lizards. I figure orcs and priests do not mix well, not even in a stew!"

"Anyways, some sustained the dragons had taken flight, taking us with them, while the others sustained it was only illusions and make-believe!"

"By the time we left to come back, the fires were pushing on their rear guards, and we decided not to overuse our welcome in the nice company of orcs. We moved back to the entrance and sought cover in the rotunda."

"It was long time overdue, if you want my opinion! Conifers were exploding from the heat across the road, and the roar of the fire was deafening from where we observed the inferno."

"The forest fire jumped the road like it wasn't even a hurdle. We saw it coming along the road, creating bellows of black smoke, as the tar burned and bubbled before vaporizing. We moved back inside the rotunda to the beginning of the hallway and surveyed the progress of the fire from there. At some point there was a huge tongue of flames that engulfed the bushes hiding the doorway and the fire propagated to all the garbage found on the rotunda floor. We moved back further, and saw from our new vantage point all traces of our caravan go up in smoke. There must be a huge hole somewhere, because there was a huge updraft at some point, and the intensity of the fire and its heat redoubled. We had to move further back because of the heat, and we decided we had seen enough. We decided to catch up with you."

"Don't worry about any marks whatsoever. The gale force winds the fire induced in the rotunda sucked in air with such force that anything not tied down was pulled into the flames. We saw dust moving out of these storerooms like an army of ghosts going to battle! Any coprolites left by the animals got swept off and pulled into the inferno. In fact, we had to use our shields to protect our faces from the debris coming from the long hallway we are following. There must be a huge volume of air in here, and probably on the other branch of the T, because the noise it made as it got sucked in was definitely out of this world."

"Thank you for your so descriptive report, legionnaires. I'm sorry I missed the show, from what you tell me. Given the noise the caravan makes we heard nothing."

"I figure the forest's predators will have a lot of precooked orcs for lunch, assuming they aren't reduced to bones by the fire," remarked the first legionnaire.

***

Harold decided he no longer needed to stay at the rear guard and moved forward to his usual position with the cavalry. As he caught up with them, he was greeted by the legionnaires sent forward to verify the exit had not been disturbed.

"So, legionnaires, what are the news?"

"All is fine, Legate. The poniard is still up and we pushed to the rotunda, it has not been entered. All is as we left it last, including the set of sticks and other trinkets we disposed to verify any suspicious activity."

"Good. We still have three hours of travel to go, before we reach the rotunda."

"Yes, two of us are at the entrance, hidden behind blocks, two more have taken position inside the rotunda, out of sight, two are holding position at the entrance of the hallway, on horses, ready to come riding hard if anything suspicious should occur before we reach them."

"Fine. Let us hope that nothing untoward shall bother our exit. Has there been any report of the weather?"

"Not yet, Legate. It is night, and we are still under forest cover, so it is a bit difficult to guess what the weather is or will be. All we know is it was not raining."

"OK. Thanks. Go rest!"

The report from the rear guards had propagated like wildfire along the convoy, and it raised the spirits of the caravan members more than a barrel of ale would have ever done. As expected, the caravan reached the exit at matins, and decided to halt its progress while still inside. Legionnaires spread around the rotunda, verifying that all was clear and that no hidden threats were lurking.

The next day was very busy. The water source found earlier by the first exploratory team was put to good use in replenishing the reserves. The tubing that had been used to siphon water from the stream was now used to carry the water from the Ancients' source, as it was called, to the barrels. A centurie went out to explore and verify the situation outside the rotunda, while the caravan's animals were checked and healed, and those in need of farring got things fixed. The rest was sorely needed, and welcomed by everyone, man or animal.

Another thing that had been dealt with was any trace of orcs and their despicable activities. Harold had set an entire centurie to this task, explaining to the centurion that he did not want Enron to see anything remotely reminding him of his ordeal under their dirty hands. The cross was dismantled and carried out as soon as day broke; the floor was swept clean of debris, and anything remotely reminiscent of orc activity or existence destroyed and disposed of.

The centurie came back at vespers to signify they had found no traces of orcs, and that the exit led down a gentle slope out of the forest cover to a more open area. From there, three roads left in different directions, one being of particular interest, since it led due south but seemed also to be going down the valley wall towards a river.

"Is there any sign of villages, farms or other groupings? Enron must have come from somewhere, and I sure wish we knew where his family is," wondered Harold, as dusk settled on the outside world.

"No, but this may change. After all, the river seems to meander a lot south, and the valley seems fertile. There is a thick forest cover on its banks. We have not seen traces of bridges or crossings, and we have a rather clear view for at least five miles down river. However the valley side is grassy for a while, probably indicating a change in the nature of the soil."

***

The evening found Harp, Sitar, Paschal, and Enron sitting around the fire. Enron had finally accepted to accompany the boys outside the Healer's cart, and was with his new friends. It had taken a lot of urging, from all three boys, for Enron to finally walk with them to the fire. The sudden emergence of Enron from his self-imposed cloistering had made sensation, but by then, all knew his presence. The reaction was a polite bow from each person they met on their way to the fire. No one blew the thing out of proportion, afraid that any excessive exuberance might be perceived as a threat by the shy Elf.

Sitar and Harp began playing, and, shortly, Paschal's voice could be heard accompanying the boys in a poignant song. Enron listened, and when the chorus added its voice to Paschal's for the second time, his beautiful voice rose to accompany them.

The evening lasted until matins, and everyone retired to their cart for the night. Tomorrow would be another day, and the caravan would leave early the shelter of the rotunda for new adventures. Paschal and the boys insisted that Enron come with them to Harold's cart for the night, and Sitar made a run to the healer's cart to retrieve the elf's belongings, including his weapons.

***

The next morning was sunny and bright, even under the forest cover. It promised to be a warm day, and the caravan had to wade its way through a thick forest of mixed essences. The roadbed had been severely uprooted, clearly indicating that it had not been in use for quite some time, much like the one at the other side of the tunnel they had followed.

The process of mapping the road was still going on and Paschal incorporated the underground roadway to his notes and maps, drawing what he knew of the system of tunnels to scale. The process clearly interested Enron, as he watched Paschal draw a map on a piece of deerskin.

Finally figuring out what Paschal was doing, he searched his pack and brought out that tiny box which had so intrigued Harold and the legionnaires when they had searched the backpack for the first time.

Enron called the little needle to Paschal's attention, and rotated on himself slowly, pointing to the needle. Paschal immediately noticed it kept pointing in the same direction, whatever the position Enron was. A magic needle, which never changed direction? What was it pointing to? Enron invited Paschal to add an arrow to the top of his map after carefully positioning it so the tunnel entrance was in the same relative position as it was to them. Once this task was done, Enron drew a line parallel to the needle, and, at the top, he wrote a fancy B, and another fancy A at the bottom. Carefully, he added a perfectly perpendicular line to the first and added two more fancy letters, a L and a C. Paschal did not really understand the importance of this, but figured it might be useful, if only because by positioning the deerskin so the B pointed in the same direction as the magic needle, he would be in the same relative orientation as the tunnel.

Enron pointed to each letter and indicated their meaning in his language, "B, Borealis³⁵³⁵ ("Borealis: Latin origin, meaning north."), A, Australis³⁶³⁶ ("Australis: Latin origin, meaning south.") , L, Levant³⁷³⁷ ("Levant: French origin, meaning where the sun rises, east. Sorry for the purists, but I couldn't keep to Latin, since the words for East and West both start with the same letter, O.") , C, Couchant³⁸³⁸ ("Couchant: French origin, meaning where the sun sets, west.")."

Paschal repeated the words for a couple of times, until Enron was satisfied with his pronunciation and understanding of their relationship to each other.

The caravan resumed its daily routine of travel until sext. As it halted after the first day off the tunnel, Paschal was talking to Harold about what Enron had done with that magic box. The sun, although still quite high in the sky, was declining, and Enron found them near the fire. He had brought that magic box which so intrigued Paschal, and now, Harold.

Enron placed the box on a portable table and called Paschal's attention to the needle again. Pointing in the direction where the sun would set, he repeated the word he had used: "Couchant!" Then he pointed to where the sun would rise the next morning and said" "Levant!"

Harold finally figured it out! "Paschal, this needle, for some reason, points north, always points north! The words that had you so confused mean north, south, east and west!"

Dunbar, who had seen the demonstration from the other side of Harold, looked at the compass with bugling eyes. "This is so marvellous, Harold! I can't believe I'm seeing one of the great losses of the Order with my own eyes! We lost the secret of making these things a very long time ago, and it was considered lost forever! This, alone, pays for a hundred trips empty! It is a magnetic compass, although I do not know what the true meaning of these words are. All we know is the name, and what was the behaviour of the box! I can barely contain my joy!"

"And you told me earlier that he used this compass to orient your map in a specific way, Paschal? Do you have your map with you?" asked Harold.

"Yes, here it is!" Paschal spread the deerskin scroll on the table, and carefully aligned the arrow with the B on top so it would be parallel to the needle. "See, Dunbar, we know from today's travel that the sun was behind our back, so we were travelling west. The entrance to the tunnel is therefore east of us. The map I am drawing, along with this compass, tells me the relative position of the tunnel, and the compass confirms that it is locates eastward from where we are now."

Dunbar looked around camp, and had to confirm Paschal's analysis of their situation. "I agree, Paschal, you have a remarkable sense of orientation for someone not of our trade."

"There will be a lot of advantages to this box. Up to now I had to estimate changes of direction from visual cues. Now, I can actually measure them by reading how much the needle moves as we rotate in space. This will add a whole order of magnitude to the precision of the map from now on. We had distance, now we have direction of travel. Notice the tiny numbers on the surface behind the needles? I counted one hundred, so there are twenty-five between each major axis. I shall have someone note the changes as we travel. I'll have to borrow another couple of your apprentices, Dunbar!"

"Borrow, borrow! As far as I'm concerned, you can take them all! This is worth it! All of it!"

***

The evening was very clear and the stars clearly visible. The month of Mars was at its apex, the moon full. A brilliant comet was visible, its tail covering the entire sky. It would pass close, very close, to the Earth³⁹³⁹ ("Halley's comet, by all accounts, will pass at its perihelion close to Earth on the spring equinox, the 19th of March 7998. Scary, isn't it? But don't worry this is only a story!").

"Isn't this a beautiful show of nature?" commented Harold, as they observed the spectacle offered by the sky.

"Yes, indeed, it is," replied Annabelle, from her seat in Harold's cart.

"We are close to the spring equinox, I think. The days have been lengthening regularly, and the nights growing ever shorter. Although estimating time using an hourglass is not easy, by combining the hourglasses carried by each of the caravans now merged to mine, I think we have a fairly good estimate of it," commented Dunbar.

"And you need to rest, Annabelle, your child is due any time now," added, in a no-nonsense voice, Francesca, the Master Healer.

"I wonder," asked a concerned Sitar, "will it hit us?"

"I can't answer that question," replied Harold, "Maybe the Ancients would have been able to, but we no longer know enough to do so. All I can tell you, Sitar, is that the comet has been around a long time. It probably has passed close to us numerous times, and never did hit us, or we probably wouldn't be around talking about it, if only because it would have been destroyed."

"But that only tells us about the past!" piped up Paschal.

"Yes it does. What will happen tomorrow, who is to say?"

"I feel like if I lifted my hand, I could touch it! It seems so close!"

"Yes it does, but one thing encourages me in believing we will not be hit by the comet this time is that it seems to be going to pass behind us rather than in front. We are still early in the night, and the rotation of the planet around the sun combined with the Earth's own spin on its axis tells me we will be past when it crosses our orbit. It isn't the case every time."

"This seems like a collision course where bits and pieces of rocks try to hit each other, much like when I use my slingshot to hunt. If you want to know, I don't like particularly being the rabbit for a piece of rock coming my way at some speed!"

"Speed?" asked Harp, who had been listening quietly. "It doesn't seem to move very fast to me?"

"It's because it is very far, Harp," explained Dunbar. "Have you ever noticed that trees far away seem to move more slowly than those that are near when you ride the cart?"

"Yes, I noticed, but I just thought that was it. I never figured it might have other meanings!"

"The distances are very, very huge, Harp. We are on a wet rock, called the Earth, that runs around the sun at speeds we cannot even imagine; yet it takes the Earth a year to complete its trip. The stars do not move because they are so far away they seem fixed. They probably move relative to each other at speeds far exceeding the one our own planet accomplishes its orbit, but yet we do not see any change, not even in our whole lifetime."

The other boys were as fascinated by the explanation as Harp was.

"When one of these bits of rocks hits the Earth, it must dig a big hole!" exclaimed Paschal.

"Yes, definitely," replied Harold. "But I think most of the pieces of rocks that come down on us are so small they melt and vaporize before ever reaching us. See all these falling stars we see tonight?"

"Yes, I have counted a lot, but I lost count."

"I think these are tiny rocks that fall on us, but burn in a flash. All we see is the flash of light."

"And they choose the night to hit the Earth?" asked Harp, "I didn't know rocks could be sneaky!"

Harold and Dunbar laughed, and Harold explained: "No, they aren't sneaky. There are as many that fall during the day as during the night, but the sun is so bright that his light hides theirs from our view."

"Anyways, boys, we better head to bed, prime comes early. I see some of you could be used as bird traps with all these wide mouths!"

"Come on Harp, Enron, let's go to bed," said Paschal. "Let's collect the pups and bring them in."

***

The next few days continued as usual, and the language lessons the children kept giving to each other progressed in leaps and bounds.

As the third day of travel came to a close, Enron wanted to visit Harold. He needed the help of Paschal and Sitar to make himself understood by Harold. Enron had figured out that this was one of the most important persons in the caravan and that he was close to the boys.

Paschal figured something important was up and decided the best would be to involve everyone, including Dunbar and Annabelle. Figuring Annabelle was not in shape to leave the Healer's cart he asked Sitar to get Harold and Dunbar, while he sent harp to get Williams and the Healer.

The group met at sext, as the caravan came to a halt. Enron drew a sketch of the immediate area, indicating the road ahead and behind them, and the river to the side, whose glow could be seen in the distance. He then placed a mark a bit west of the road and joined the main road they were following to the X with a dotted line. Then using his fingers, Enron pointed repeatedly from himself to the X.

"I think he is trying to tell us he comes from that place, Harold," suggested Paschal.

"I think you are right. Can you ask him how far he estimates things are?"

After an exchange of signs, words, and counting with Enron, Paschal came up with an estimate of the time to travel, if not the distance.

"I think he is telling me that by tierce, tomorrow, we need to turn off the road and enter a narrower trail, and that by sext, we will be in view of his village."

"Ask him if we will be well received."

Another exchange of words, and moves trying to convey the notion of peace or aggression were used. Another half-hour passed before Paschal felt assured enough of his understanding to translate Enron's answer.

"He suggests we stop at the entry to the trail, and that he and a few of us could go there, rather than the whole caravan. It would be less threatening for the villagers."

"I understand the suggestion, but whom should we send?"

"I think I need to go, and maybe you, Harold. And, naturally, Enron."

"Why is that?"

"Because you need me to translate; you need Enron as a sign of good faith; and you need to come because you are the bearer of Mitsuko. For a reason I cannot yet fathom, I think this is very important. Enron doesn't know about Mitsuko, and somehow, I think this sign of the light will be critical in establishing good relations."

"I would also suggest we give Enron his whole complement of weapons," added Sitar. "I noticed you have cleaned and repaired his weapons, and further repaired his backpack. Let us make sure he looks as unharmed as possible."

"And we have cut him a full clothes set from the last deerskin the hunters killed. It is not the finest of work, and is a bit rough, because we could not effectively tan it properly, but it is still better than being nude on horseback in the cold breeze," added Annabelle.

"OK. Tell Enron we will go, you, him, and me, to his village, after sext, tomorrow."

The exchange was shorter this time, and everyone resumed his activity. Enron verified his weapons, tried on the clothes that had been cut for him. He didn't show what he felt about the clothes, but recovering his weapons brought a big smile to him; he carefully verified Harold's work on them and found it very satisfactory.

***

At tierce, the caravan halted at the embranchment, and Harold brought up his destrier. The horse dully impressed Enron, who had never seen such a huge animal up close. Harold sat on his saddle, lifted Paschal behind him, and Enron in the front. Finally, Mitsuko was tied to the saddle. The three left the anxious caravan behind and engaged themselves under the trees, following a narrow trail.

The travel to Enron's village was a lot faster than what Enron had envisioned, because the destrier took bigger strides than a man or a boy could ever envision taking. It took them an hour to reach an area where Enron, by sign language, asked Harold to slow down.

As the trio came slowly forward, a voice was heard, speaking the language that Harold and Sitar had come to associate with Elves. Harold halted his horse and waited.

An exchange of yells was heard, and finally, Enron yelled back at them. There followed a quick exchange between Enron and a hidden figure. Enron's voice finally took a cold sound like he was giving a command, and the hidden voice answered with a sneer. This definitely infuriated Enron, because, before Harold could do anything, he had fired an arrow at the offender, and a surprised sound was heard from the bushes.

Harold just had enough of this situation and decided to intervene. He took Mitsuko out of its scabbard, and, pressing on the side of the horse, charged the bush, yelling "Mitsuko!" as he did so.

The sudden appearance of a blazing blade headed towards them at neck level made the Elves disperse on the double. Harold halted his charge at the prone figure, nailed on a tree by the arrow Enron had so expertly sent into the bush.

Enron looked at the person with disgust apparent in his face, and gave him a piece of his mind in no uncertain terms. Even Harold blushed, and he did not even begin to understand what was said. Sitar, on the other hand, kept giggling, because he had caught the gist of what Enron was saying.

Enron then called out, and gave a series of brief orders, then pointed forward toward the village. Even Harold understood what he wanted, and he pressed the horse forward, leaving the figure still nailed on the tree. Mitsuko was shining bright and created unnatural shadows in the forest as they made their way over the last few hundred yards to the entrance of the village.

Its palisade doors were closed, but another command by Enron promptly got them opened for him. The horse and its three cavaliers strode into the village at parade pace. Enron then guided Harold by movement to the center of the village where an agora was found.

Halting the horse in the middle of the village, Harold waited, while Enron sought in his backpack something peculiar. It has a silvery look, and when he blew in it, it made a resounding crystalline sound.

The villagers slowly congregated towards the agora. Enron grew impatient at their slow response and blew again in the instrument, furiously. He meant business.

Finally everyone was there, even the offender who had so infuriated Enron in the forest. Enron signalled Harold to show Mitsuko in plain sight for all to see, and requested with an unequivocal sign, that he make the horse rotate in a circle so everyone could see the sword clearly.

Finally satisfied that everyone had seen this, Enron stood up on the saddle and began a harangue that must have been effective, because everyone kept totally silent. No one moved, not a breath could be heard over Enron's strong and harsh voice. It was the voice of command, the voice that meant business.