Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [72]
Ren senses something strange, too. I can tell by his posture. There's no question he's on the defensive. Let's follow his lead, Evaine silently told her comrade.
The wolves continued to growl at Miltiades, all the while shooting wary glances at Gamaliel.
"Brutus, Tog, Garf, shut up! These fine people have invited us into their camp. The least we can do is be civil. Wuldor, take those curs away and settle them down."
Wuldor smelled like wet fur. Ren couldn't help but crinkle his nose as the man passed.
"I don't think I've ever seen wolves used as mounts before. Are you druids?" Ren tried to break the uneasiness between the two sides.
The three men laughed in an odd, barking manner.
"Druids," Donar said, choking with laughter. "No disrespect to those two over there, but even druids couldn't tame our three pets. We live with these beasts, and they do what we tell them."
"Your friends don't talk much," Artur said, warming his hands by the fire.
"They just woke up," Ren said evenly. He walked to the opposite side of an already blazing fire and added more logs. He felt compelled to get these men on their way as soon as possible. "The paths to Vaasa are clear-I just came from there. Phlan has suffered the wrath of the gods and has disappeared. Only a patch of tents marks the place where the city once stood. But you shouldn't have much trouble passing through. What do you know of Zhentil Keep and Yulash?"
"I heard that Phlan was gone," said Artur, "but I figured it to be a rumor. You've seen it, then?" Ren nodded. Artur's gaze shifted about the camp. "You people seem a little tense. Let's share some food. There's no reason we can't be friends, eh?" he said, trying to act more congenial than he looked. All the companions instinctively felt he was hiding something.
Wuldor, still tending to the wolves, spoke to Ren. "If you're traveling south, stay away from Zhentil Keep. Something has stirred up the evil in that gods-cursed city. We lost a brother there when we tried to conduct some business for our master. Some frenzied priests of Bane attacked us without reason."
None of this surprised Ren. Zhentil Keep was always a place to avoid, and Wuldor described what might well have been daily events.
Wuldor was slapping the wolves and casting strange glances toward the campfire. "Something is odd about the forests and trails to the south of Zhentil Keep. We tore through them because they didn't smell or feel right. There's a growing evil."
"Yulash, on the other hand, is fine. No problems," Donar said, taking packs of meat from his saddlebags. He quickly whittled a branch into a spit and hung some meat over the fire for roasting.
Do you see what kind of meat that is, Gam? Evaine silently voiced to the barbarian.
I smell what kind of meat it is. Should we attack now? The barbarian's eyes shifted from pale green to a deep golden color.
Let me get Ren away from them. When I give the signal, I'll go for the humans-you attack the wolves. Maybe we can disable one or two of them before they have a chance to metamorphose, she told the barbarian. She raised her voice and spoke to the druids. "Talenthia, I think you should prepare your new chalice for our friends' visit. You know, the one that makes that wonderful wine." Evaine hoped the two would pick up on her hint.
The sorceress mentally readied a spell. "Ren, could you help me for a moment? That clumsy barbarian has the straps of my backpack all tied in knots."
The ranger arose, giving Gamaliel a puzzled look. He pulled a dagger from his boot and stepped toward Evaine. But as he did so, she rounded the campfire and yelled, "Attack!"
Eighteen missiles of magical energy shot from her hands and struck Artur's chest, albeit with little effect. The camp was suddenly filled with the shouts of the companions and the flash of spells. But the three strangers and their wolves reacted almost in slow motion.
Artur rose from his place by the fire. As he stood, he transformed, as did his cousins, into a