Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [41]
Ondeth looked into his eyes, and then back to his work. Framed by a well-clipped red beard, the stranger's mouth was a thin line, for all the syrupy, mannered nature of his voice.
"Help you?" asked Ondeth in level tones, hauling the larger of the two halves onto the stump.
"Perhaps," replied the stranger. "Can I ask why you're here?"
"Have to split the logs," said Ondeth. "They won't do it by themselves."
The stranger gave the burly Obarskyr farmer a brief, amused smile and said, "I mean, it looks like you're settling here in the wolf woods."
"Aye," said Ondeth. "Is there a problem with that?"
"The elves claim this land for their hunting."
"I've heard that. And I intend to leave them to it. I'm a horrible shot with a bow. I lost an older brother to a boar hunt back in Impiltur. Let the elves have their hunting, I'm a farmer."
"So they've noticed. Other men have come into these lands, and when they chased off the deer, the elves had to act. You haven't taken any of their prey, but you are on their land."
Ondeth's brow rose. "You are not an elf," he said flatly. The lean man shrugged and held out a hand. "I am Baerauble Etharr, a friend to the elves."
Ondeth returned his own name and shook Baerauble's hand. The man's grip was limp and unpracticed, as if it had been some time since he'd last used it. A small silence fell between the two men.
"May I ask why you settled here?" asked the thin man, his voice still pleasant. "I mean, both in the wolf woods and in this particular place?"
Ondeth shrugged. "Some bad times have come down on the land we came from. Plagues. Tyrants. Bad kings. The usual. When it becomes easier for a man to face goblin attacks than pay his taxes, then it's time to take his chances with the goblins."
"There are few goblins, and they keep well to the north of here," said Baerauble.
"I take it your elves keep them at bay," said Ondeth.
"We guard this land," said Baerauble simply. "That is one reason I'm here."
Ondeth thought of his wife's talk of ghosts and watchers. How long had this rail-thin stranger been watching them?
"As for settling in this particular place," said Ondeth, "we struck west from Marsember, following the hunting and game trails along the coast, looking for enough open space to farm. We found this spot, open to the sky, with some ancient trees already felled. It's easier than cutting timber on our own."
He swung one muscular arm south. "The shoreline is close… nothing but sharp-toothed rocks, but we can build a small dock if need be… eventually. The soil's rich here, and it should bring in a good crop. Have you claimed this land already?"
The farmer hefted his hammer, as if to indicate he would contest any such claim.
The newcomer surprised Ondeth. He gave a thin, worried smile. "No, I was a… guest of the original inhabitants."
"Your elves killed those original inhabitants." It was a statement, not a question.
The lean man started. "You know?"
"I've found bits of bone and broken swords when I was plowing. You don't have to be Sage Alaundo to figure out there were other inhabitants here earlier. Haven't told Suzara, she'd just worry."
Another pause between the two. Ondeth broke it finally with a direct look up from his hammer and the gruff question, "So-are you here to kill us as well?"
Baerauble started again. Ondeth wondered if he was being too hard-tongued with the stranger, but this one had called himself a friend of the elves and had probably not been near humans for a decade.
Baerauble blinked and then said slowly, "Perhaps. They sent me to determine your intentions."
Ondeth nodded. "I intend to farm. My sons do a little snaring. Brother's going down to Marsember tomorrow to fetch his wife and family. If you want to kill us, I'd appreciate your doing it before the younger folk arrive."
The stranger did not-quite-smile. "How many folk do you intend to have here in this settlement?"
Ondeth shrugged. "I know of a dozen, maybe two dozen folk who'd trade Marsember for some dry land." After a moment, he