The Improbable Adventures of Scar and Potbelly: Ice Terraces of Crystal Crag (23 page)

Striking sparks, Potbelly set fire to the wood.

“I’ll stand watch,” Scar announced.

Potbelly glanced at him from the fire and shook his head. “I can do it.”

“You’ve only had a couple hours of sleep for I don’t know how long, and all I’ve done is sleep. Doubt if I could fall asleep even if I wanted to.”

He couldn’t deny his body demanded sleep. At the mere thought of it his eyes felt like closing and a yawn broke out.

Scar laughed. “See? Now go to sleep.”

“You be sure and wake me should anything happen.”

“If the wolves come back, I will be sure to wake you.”

Potbelly settled into his blanket close enough to feel the warmth from the fire.

Scar sat against the cave’s inner wall and watched the fire for a time. His eyes drooped a bit and he knew sleep called. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and paced to the back wall where the horses were, and back. He did this several times and had yet to hear the wolves’ howling.

Moving to the entrance, he worked his way around the fire and passed into the cool of the evening. He kept his back to the light in order to maintain his night vision. The shadows danced as a slight breeze flicked the flames to and fro.

He walked around to keep awake, never straying far from their camp. The moon came out and shadows grew slightly more distinct. Finally, a far off wolf’s howl split the night. A minute later a second one sounded, just as far away.

“Not bothering with us anymore, huh?” he chuckled. Not surprised after the thrashing they gave them. Scar gazed out toward where the wolves hunted. For the briefest moment, he thought he had seen a flicker of light. A moment later, he saw it again. The wolves were attacking someone.

“Garrock.”

It had to be him. Who else could it possibly be? But he had to be sure. He returned to their camp and buckled on his sword belt. “I am not going back on my word,” he said to himself. “The wolves have not returned. I’m just going to them.”

Not to fight the wolves to be sure, but just close enough to find out if those out there were in fact Garrock and his men. Quietly, he snuck out and raced down the hill.

Sometime later, Potbelly stirred and in a half-wakeful state, opened his eyes and glanced around. Eyes closed again, he drifted back toward sleep’s realm. But before he passed the gates, his eyes opened. Something nagged at his befuddled mind. Then he snapped full awake; Scar was gone.

“Scar!” he hollered. Getting to his feet, he rushed outside. “Scar!” he called again. All he heard was the rustle of wind through the trees.

“Damn him!”

Scar raced through the trees toward the intermittent flashes of light; brief glimpses that appeared for a moment then were gone. When he covered more than a hundred yards, the light grew more constant. It soon became apparent that over a dozen men stood in an armed ring around as many horses.

He crept forward in order to get a clearer view of those being assaulted by the wolves. Ever mindful that the wolves could turn on him as ready as the others, he darted from one tree to the next, ensuring that each had limbs low enough to the ground that he could leap to and find safety should the need arise.

Voices were audible; though exactly what was said couldn’t be determined. That one voice commanded was unmistakable. He darting to another tree for a closer look and froze when a wolf passed by not ten feet away. He prepared to leap into the tree should the wolf alter course toward him, but it kept going toward the camp to join in the assault. Spying another tree closer to the conflict having low branches, he glanced about to ensure the coast was clear, then sprinted to it.

Once there, he pressed himself against the trunk and worked his way around it to get a better view. Several men wielded crossbows and still more had swords and axes. When one man stepped into view shouting orders and wielding a double-headed battle axe, he knew. Garrock was there. Discovering what he needed to know, he started back to Potbelly.

Tree to tree as before but in the opposite direction, he steadily worked his way from Garrock and his men. He thought he had made it out unnoticed when a growl from behind stopped him in his tracks. A large wolf stood not ten feet away.

“Well, my pretty,” he said, slowly drawing his swords. “Surprised to find me here?”

The motion of drawing his swords sent jolts of pain along his chest. He backed away, ensuring all the while to maintain constant eye contact with the beast.

Five steps away and the wolf hadn’t done anything more than growl. At ten, the wolf continued to remain where he was. Scar entertained the hopes that there would be no battle, but then he saw the wolf crouch and then launched itself forward.

Scar held his swords at the ready as the beast charged. Adrenalin kicked in and thoughts of pain vanished. He weaved a web of steel that brought the wolf up short. Then he lunged forward and the wolf danced to the side. He followed through with a slice that the wolf failed to fully avoid. As it darted to the side, the tip of Scar’s sword racked across its shoulder.

“Ha!” Scar exclaimed. “I scored first.”

The wolf circled and Scar turned as well, always keeping the beast before him.

“Come on,” he said and motioned with a blade for the wolf to approach. The wolf didn’t comply. Instead, it kept circling as if trying to find a weakness to exploit.

Then a second growl came from his right. He turned to look and saw another wolf approaching.
One he could handle, but two? And in his weakened state?
He feinted at the wolf he’d been sparring with causing it to dart back, then raced for a tree with low hanging branches. Sheathing his swords on the run, he leapt for the branches and grabbed hold of one. Instantly, pain erupted along the length of his wounds. Gasping, he swung up and got on top of the limb, then reached for the next one higher up the tree.

A wolf slammed into the branch upon which he sat. Scooting fast toward the trunk, he barely avoided having his leg shredded.  The second wolf leapt and clung to it as well. The limb bowed beneath the added weight and Scar heard it crack.

He grabbed for the limb directly above him as the limb broke, leaving him dangling for dear life. His chest was on fire; it felt like his wounds had ripped open all over again.

Down below, the wolves leapt for him, forcing him to pull up his legs. It was about this time he thought that perhaps he may have gone a bit too far in heading out in the dark by himself. Both wolves leapt and one caught the end of his trousers. Claws grabbed hold and tore six inches off the right leg.

His chest a mass of agony, the limb he hung to felt like it was going to break off and two deadly wolves waited below to rip him to pieces. “Potbelly,” he said, “where are you.”

A shadow darted from the greater darkness. “Right here.”

Using both hands, Potbelly thrust his sword into one of the wolves’ back. As the wolf collapsed, he pulled it free, turned toward the other and lunged forward. It caught the wolf in the side but didn’t go in very deep. The beast growled, darted back, then turned and launched itself forward.

Potbelly raked his knife across its face and then as the beast tried to backpedal, his sword came in from the side and caught it full on the jawline. Fur parted and bones cracked. Yelping the beast raced off into the dark.

Scar let go the limb and landed on his feet with a groan.

“What in the name of all the gods do you think you are doing?” Potbelly demanded. “Of all the foolish things you have ever done, this has to be the most lame brained, idiotic…”

“Garrock is here.”

Pausing in his diatribe detailing Scar’s foolishness, he asked, “What did you say?”

“Garrock, is here.” He then pointed toward where he last saw Garrock and his men fighting the wolves. “That way, maybe a hundred yards.”

“And you think that makes it all right for you to be out here alone in your condition?”

“No, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Let’s get back to camp before either more wolves come or he discovers we’re here.”

“I think he may already know,” Scar said. “Else why be here now?”

Potbelly cast him an irritation-filled look. “You went back on your word.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You promised to wake me if something happened.”

“No,” Scar clarified, “I didn’t. I promised to wake you if the wolves returned. They didn’t. I went out to them.”

Potbelly muttered to himself the entire way back about brainless idiots and how some people care nothing for their lives.

The fire had burned down to a soft glow by the time they returned. It was decided to leave it that way so as not to have a beacon telling Garrock where they were. Lots of wood was piled next to it in case wolves came by and they needed to create their fire barrier.

Potbelly inspected Scar’s wounds in the glow of the embers.

“Doesn’t look like you broke them open,” he said. “They are red and enflamed after your acrobatics, but otherwise look okay.”

“So, all’s well.”

“Nothing is ‘
all’s well!
’” Potbelly exploded. “Garrock is just down the hill, wolves are trying to kill us and we still have a ways to go. So don’t go saying that
‘all’s well.
’”

Scar leaned against the side of the cave and closed his eyes. He fell asleep listening to Potbelly’s muttering and knowing that he only complained so much because of the friendship they shared.

The morning dawned glorious. Potbelly had breakfast ready for Scar when he woke.

“Any sign of Garrock?”

Potbelly shook his head. “No. Nor of the wolves. They didn’t come round last night.”

“That’s at least one positive happenstance for Garrock’s presence,” Scar said.

“I’d rather fight the wolves than know he was nearby.” He inspected Scar’s wounds. “How do you feel?” Though red and a little puffy from last night’s adventure, they looked to be healing nicely.

“Like the first time in the pit.”

Chuckling, Potbelly said, “I bet.” He secured the bandage back in place then sat next to Scar. “What are we going to do about Garrock?”

“Kill him if we can, avoid him if we can’t,” Scar replied. “But at the very least, beat him to the treasure.”

“We should get going. Stay ahead of him.”

“What we really need to do is find a way to throw him off our trail. What good will it be to get to the treasure first if he and his men simply take it from us. Now I’m not one to back down from a fight, but with him having crossbows…”

“I know,” agreed Potbelly.  He got the horses that were already saddled and led them from the cave. “We’ll keep an eye out for what possibilities present themselves.”

Moving out, they headed up the mountain. Crystal Crag loomed beyond the mountain farther back in the mountain range. They worked to maintain a heading that would take them to the northern slope of Crystal Crag, and the cavernous opening foretold by Matlin.

By late afternoon they hit the snowline and thanked the gods that they had the good sense to acquire warmer clothing.

Scar spied an overlook farther up that would provide a commanding view of the valley they had recently left.

“I bet from there we could discover where Garrock got to.”

Potbelly nodded. “Let’s go.”

Hooves crunched in the dusting of snow deposited days ago as they worked their way up to the overlook. Once there, they dismounted and strode out upon it. The view was breathtaking.

The entire valley unfolded before them. Framed by mountains on either side the view was nothing short of spectacular. Of Garrock there was no sign. But there was one thing they noticed that caused worry. Their tracks through the snow were clearly visible.

“No way around that,” Scar said.

“Yeah,” Potbelly replied. “If they come across those they can follow them right to us.”

Scar nodded. “We’re going to have to deal with this or the next time we camp they’ll be on us.”

“How do you feel?”

He stretched. “A little stiff and in some pain when I move.”

Potbelly glanced to his friend. “It’s times like this when I wish I was proficient with a bow.”

“You got that right,” Scar agreed.

“Last two nights, when the wolves came they hit Garrock.” He glanced to Scar. “Wouldn’t it be reasonable to think the same would happen tonight should they come?”

“Possible.”

“So tonight, instead of camping we forge through these mountains with as much speed as possible.” He glanced to the horizon. “Moon should be up soon and with it reflecting off the snow, we should have enough light to see.”

“It’s a gamble. If the wolves hit us out in the open, things might not go well.”

“I think it’s a chance we need to take. Then perhaps by tomorrow we’ll be able to figure a way to deal with Garrock.”