The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [31]
“Listen carefully, little sweet one,” Maddyn said to the sprite. “Somewhere in that forest are a whole lot of men like me and Aethan, warriors with swords. They’ll have lots of horses, too, and they live in a stone house. Can you lead me there?”
She thought for a long moment, then nodded her agreement and promptly disappeared. Maddyn decided that either she’d misunderstood or had simply forgotten, but as soon as they were ready to ride, she reappeared, dancing and leaping on the riverbank and pointing to the north.
“I don’t suppose that misbegotten tavernman gave you any directions to this place,” Aethan said.
“Well, he had a confused idea or two. I’ll try to lead us there, but don’t be surprised if it’s a bit roundabout.”
It was a good thing that Maddyn had put in his warning, because the Wildfolk’s idea of leading someone left much to be desired. As soon as the men started riding north, two gray gnomes appeared to join the sprite, but they kept pinching either her or each other and distracting her both ways from her task. Once they were all well into the forest, the Wildfolk disappeared, leaving the men to follow a rough deer track for several miles. Just when Maddyn had given up on them, they flashed back into being, perching on his horse’s neck and saddle peak and pointing off to the west down a narrow and rough track indeed. Although Aethan grumbled (and a welcome sign of returning life it was), Maddyn insisted on following it, and every time the path branched, he faithfully went the way she pointed. By noon, Maddyn was hopelessly lost, with no choice but to follow where the Wildfolk led. Hopping from tree to tree, they grinned, giggled, and pointed in various directions, but Maddyn always followed the blue sprite, who threatened to bite the gray fellows whenever they contradicted her.
“Maddo, I hope to every god and his horse that you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I. I’ve got the ugly feeling I may have gotten us lost in here.”
Aethan groaned with a drama worthy of a bard. Just as Maddyn was thinking that he’d spoken the bitter truth, the sprite led them to a big clearing, ringed round with stumps of trees. Out in the middle was a hut built of logs, piled up whole to form a square structure—a house different from any that Maddyn had ever seen. The roof was neatly thatched with branches, and a wisp of smoke trailed lazily out of the smoke hole in the roof.
“What in the three hells have you found?” Aethan sputtered. “That’s not big enough for a band of mercenaries.”
“So it’s not. More likely it’s some of those runaway bondsmen the taverner mentioned.”
At the sound of their voices, a man came out. He was one of the shortest men Maddyn had ever seen, not more than five feet tall, but he had broad shoulders and heavy arms like a miniature blacksmith, and his legs were in perfect proportion to the rest of him. His long black beard trailed past the round collar of the wool tunic he wore over brigga. He carried a long woodsman’s ax like a weapon. When he spoke, his voice was rough with a heavy guttural accent. “And just who are you, lads?”
“Naught but a pair of lost travelers,” Maddyn said.
“Thieves, more like.” The fellow hefted the ax. “And what brought you into these wretched woods in the first place?”
“We were looking for a mercenary troop,” Aethan broke in. “A tavernman in Gaddmyr said there might be one quartered in this forest.”
“All we want to do is see if they’ll take us on,” Maddyn said. “I swear it, we’re not thieves, and I don’t know what a hermit like you would have that’s worth stealing, anyway.”
The man considered with his ax at the ready. When Maddyn noticed the blade, he nearly swore aloud in surprise. Although the metal gleamed exactly like silver, it had an edge as sharp as steel by the look of it, and it carried not one nick or bite.
“Now, here,” Aethan said. “We’ll be more than glad to leave you alone if you’ll only show us the way out of these blasted woods.”
“Go back