Donovan had been tracking the enemy in the Wildlands for almost eight weeks when he decided it was time to make a move. He’d had little difficulty tracking the group, but it had been slow work, mainly because he had needed to track them from a long distance. Unlike the Wood Elven forest, the Wildlands were made up of flat, grassy plains, making it difficult to get near without being seen. But Donovan was learning a little more about his enemy’s habits each day as he studied their campsites and tracks, and he was beginning to devise a plan.
He was pleased to find the small footprints of an Elven female amongst the larger human, male prints. The princess was most certainly still alive and traveling with the group. He was even more pleased to find, from the depth and placement of her footprints, that she had a strong, steady stride. She was not hurt, which was a relief, as this would greatly improve their chances of escaping once he had rescued her.
Donovan studied the surrounding landscape carefully. Most of his training had taken place within the forest, and he knew he was at a strong disadvantage here on the open plains. He would have to learn to adjust his tactics, and quickly. He hoped to be able to free the princess before the slavers made it back to their encampment, because once they were encamped, they would gain the home-field advantage with greater numbers and fresh men and supplies, and his chances of success would be much slimmer.
There had been talk at the outpost of a large slaver encampment about four hundred leagues southwest of the free town of Benten, run by a Barbarian who had taken control of much of the Wildlands. Donovan was willing to bet that this Barbarian was the same man he was seeking and, judging by their rate of travel, he expected that they would reach the encampment within the next week or two.
“I will be successful no matter what the circumstances,” Donovan told himself, aloud. “Alayna will not have died in vain, and the princess will not suffer the fate of a slave!”
All that day, he followed the slavers, noticing that they were heading into more scrubby land. The bushes would be helpful. The slavers were traveling about seven leagues each day, and setting up camp late in the afternoon. Donovan knew their patterns, knew how they laid out their camp, and he was ready.
Late that night, Donovan crept to the edge of the camp—closer than he had ever been—and observed one of the guardsmen conversing with a larger man. Donovan strained to hear their words, but was unable to hear them clearly, so he turned his attention on locating the princess.
Using the brush as cover, Donovan inched even closer and made his way around the perimeter of the camp. At the far side of the camp, he spotted the sleeping form of a woman who was being closely guarded by two Barbarian guards. The woman’s clothes were dirty, but on closer observation, Donovan recognized the style generally worn by the hierarchy and Elven nobility. He could not see her face, but there was no doubt in his mind—this was high Lord Aden’s daughter.
He studied her more closely and was relieved to find that her clothes, although dirty, were not torn or damaged, meaning that she had likely not been harassed by the men. This would further improve his chances of gaining her trust and helping her escape, as he would not be dealing with a traumatized hostage when he initiated contact with her.
Donovan turned his attention back to the guard and the large man who were still deep in conversation. He set his sights on a bush near to where they stood and, taking a great risk, he stealthily worked his way over and settled in to listen.
“But Garock,” the guardsman was saying, “if we sold her back to her people, we could raise another army. She would bring a fortune and her ransom…”
“You can’t spend a fortune if you’re dead!” spat the larger man, who was, apparently, Garock. “Our suppliers will already be spitting mad once they know we have failed to obtain the agreed-upon cargo. They wanted a cargo of Elven women, not just one. Although she is a very pretty one, I don’t think she alone will justify our supplier’s initial willingness to fund our raid on the Wood Elves. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I am certain that there was more to this than the money the cargo would bring in. They would only have been willing to lend us the rune crystal artifact if there was something more valuable at stake.”
Donovan was keenly alert. This was not just a casual conversation between soldiers. This was vital information about their plans for the princess. He could hardly believe his luck!
Garock paused, frowning as he tried to imagine what he was up against, but getting nowhere. He sighed deeply and went on. “Now that we have no cargo of women and no plunder, the only option is to appease our suppliers. Hopefully, this princess’ ransom will be enough for them to spare our lives. This is why I gave the order that she not be touched.”
Garock turned serious eyes on his second-in-command and asked in a deceptively calm voice, “You did follow my instructions, I trust?”
“Of course,” said the other man. “I would not dare to disobey a direct order from you. I made it clear to the men that none of them were to so much as look twice at her. Even the bruises she had from her capture are mostly healed now. She will be fit for delivery!”
Garock nodded and replied, “Good. I knew there was a reason why I kept you around for so long.”
An unpleasant smile spread over his face and he sighed as he said, “She is uncommonly beautiful, even for a princess. I had been looking forward to having her for myself. If I had known how this was going to go, I’d have captured that Elven whore who I fought in the last battle instead of killing her. The sight of that feisty little thing made me ache all over.” He laughed out loud in a vulgar manner and added, “Oh, I would’ve had lots of fun teaching her a few lessons about her proper place in my bed.”
“You’d have been lucky to survive the first night with that one in your bed,” laughed the guard.
“Yes, it would have been a delightful challenge to break in such a strong one. Oh well, I guess I should just be glad I made it out with my life. If it hadn’t been for the artifact, I’d never have escaped once the Elven Army surrounded us. Luckily, it was still in my bag and I was able to activate it and get out of there without any of the Elves knowing I was ever there.”
Donovan growled low and had to control the urge to leap out and slay the man right there and then. There was the man he’d been hunting—Alayna’s killer—standing mere feet away. It took a great effort to quiet his mind and continue listening.
“The princess, along with the safe return of the artifact, should persuade our suppliers not to take this issue any further. If we are lucky and still have our lives, we’ll eventually build up another army, even larger than the one we lost,” suggested Garock.
Garock’s second-in-command hesitated, then replied, “If I may offer a counter suggestion, perhaps we should keep both the artifact and the Elven princess. We could use the ransom money to rebuild our forces and the artifact would be highly useful for future campaigns.”
Garock smiled and shook his head. “If only it was that simple. Unfortunately, our suppliers are powerful enough that I don’t dare cross them. I am fairly certain that they’re involved with the Shadow Elves and, if that’s the case, any double cross will be repaid tenfold.”
The guard’s eyes widened. “Shadow Elves! Well, that does change things. How do we know that they’ll be satisfied with the prisoner and the safe return of their artifact?”
Garock shrugged his shoulders and replied, “We don’t.”
There was a long silence between the two men. Donovan smiled. This might be easier than he had thought. The artifact from the Shadow Elves explained how Garock’s army had been able to get through the forest without being detected. And now, if he could take away their one hope of redemption by helping the princess escape, the Shadow Elven retaliation would wipe out the enemy encampment and Garock with it, without Donovan or any of the Rangers having to lift a finger. It was almost too perfect.
Donovan made his way back to his small camp and pondered the situation until well into the early morning hours. It didn’t sit right with him to not be the one to personally deal out the justice that was coming to Garock, but he was realistic enough to know that this was the most effective means he currently had at his disposal. Even if he involved the other Rangers, the Barbarian’s numbers were still too great and this way, the job could be done without risking any more of the human Ranger’s lives. He started to formulate a plan of action, but sleep finally overtook him. His last thoughts of that day were of Shadow Elves and Garock begging for mercy. If the rumors about the Shadow Elves were true, he would not die a pleasant death. Donovan hoped the Shadow Elves would be swift and brutal in their retaliation against the slavers.
Less than a week later, the slavers reached their encampment. Donovan had been following as closely as he dared and waiting for the right opportunity to act, but it had never come. The princess was very closely guarded and the camps were too exposed. He would have to find a way to get to her now that they were settled, and he knew he wouldn’t have much time before Garock made his next move.
Donovan spent the night of their arrival studying the encampment and he soon discovered that it was going to be a real problem. The camp was well designed, with high walls made of sharpened tree spikes on all four sides. A series of platforms on the inside of the wooden walls allowed the guards to walk around the inner perimeter of the structure and keep a close watch for anyone attempting to approach the encampment from the surrounding area. All the shrubs and bushes within a hundred feet of the outside wall had been cleared away, making it doubly hard for an intruder such as himself to approach the encampment without being detected. Stealth was not going to work this time. He would need to find a way to enter this place directly.
With the dawn came a flurry of activity around the encampment, and the beginning of a plan for Donovan. As he observed, slaves began to move outside the encampment, emptying waste and filling water bags and buckets from a nearby creek. Several slave men wandered farther, scouring the scrubby plains for anything they could use for their fires.
Here, Donovan thought, is the weakness. If I could “convince” one of the slave men to assist me, I could find a way in. If I were wearing their clothes, I might be able to just walk in directly. It would be the perfect disguise.
For the rest of the day, Donovan studied the movements of the slaves and the Barbarians and formulated his plan, all the while hoping he wasn’t too late.
Late that night, he bundled all of his weapons, save his Elven dagger, into his blanket and buried them underneath one of the scrub bushes where they could not be easily found. He lashed his Elven dagger to his lower leg with strips of his cloak, and headed back toward the encampment.
When he had made it as far as the hundred-foot clearing, he began darting carefully from bush to bush, until he reached the upper, northern point of the creek. Donovan silently slipped into the deep, cold water and swam to where the creek came closest to the encampment. The steep banks of the creek offered him some cover and he was able to watch the sentries as they patrolled the platforms. They seemed to focus their attention on other, more exposed sections of the clearing and rarely looked his way. Donovan decided that this would be the best place to rest and wait for daybreak.
Donovan was startled out a light doze the next morning by the sounds of the main gate opening. He moved back into the water without making a sound and hid himself beneath an overhanging shrub. He would need to wait for just the right opportunity. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait for long.
Slaves came and went over the next hour, mostly women, and mostly in groups. It was difficult to wait, to know that every minute that passed might be one too late. But Alayna had trained him well and he forced himself to be still and patient and cleared his mind of everything but the task at hand. If he started to doubt his plan now, it would surely fail. He could see Alayna’s patient smile as she consoled him after an unsuccessful hunt when he was a boy. He’d always had a hard time waiting, always moved too soon and startled his prey before the time was right. She had worked with him, long and hard, on control and timing, and that training had paid off many times over the years. Now, it was nearly second nature and would pay off once again.
Donovan spotted a man heading his way, carrying two water buckets. The man approached the creek slightly downstream from where Donovan hid and carefully made his way down to the water line, turned his back on Donovan and stooped to fill his buckets. When he straightened, Donovan was there, behind him, and quickly clamped his hand over the man’s mouth.
Gradually, the startled slave ceased struggling and trying to yell, and Donovan spoke to him in the human tongue.
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” he asked.
The man nodded.
“I’m going to release you,” Donovan told him. “I mean you no harm and as long as you cooperate, you will be safe. Do you understand?”
The man nodded again, vigorously, and Donovan slowly released his hold on him. The slave turned toward him and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
“I’m looking for a very important prisoner,” he told the man. “I’m here to get her back.”
The slave looked around as though expecting more men to appear. “I don’t know how you’re going to do that by yourself— unless you have some kind of hidden army or something?”
Donovan smiled. “No, it’s just me,” he answered.
“Well, you’ll never get anyone out of here on your own. It can’t be done. And even if you did, you’re hundreds of leagues from any free towns or settlement. They’d track and hunt you down before you made it three days away. It’s impossible to leave here. Believe me, I know. I’ve tried it before—a few times.” The slave looked at him sadly and added, “The best thing for you to do is to disappear back from where you came and forget about rescuing anyone. I would do this before they discover you’re here, because if they find you, you’ll end up a slave just like me, or worse—dead.”
“I’m sorry, friend, but I just can’t do that. I could use the advice of someone with your experience though. What’s the best way for me to get into this camp without being detected?”
“I just gave you my best advice. Leave before you wind up dead!” repeated the slave adamantly.
“And I just told you that I’m not going anywhere. Now, how do I get into this encampment?”
The slave looked at Donovan long and hard, and finally replied, “Well, I know of a way to get out but I don’t know about getting in. Still, it seems to me that where there’s a way out then the same can be said in reverse.”
Donovan frowned at the man, his patience growing thin. “Speak clearly,” he warned. “I don’t like riddles and I don’t understand your meaning.”
“There’s a tunnel that runs underneath the encampment and out into the creek on the southern bank. The warlord had it dug out, secretly, by a small group of slaves. Once it was done, he slaughtered them all and buried their bodies within the tunnel.”
“How do you know about this?” questioned Donovan. “How is it that you are alive to tell about it?”
The slave looked down, the pain of old memories fresh on his face. He glanced around, nervously, and spoke in hushed tones when he told Donovan, “One of the slaves who worked on the tunnel was a good friend of mine. He told me what was going on down there and swore me to secrecy about it. He only worked on it for a couple of days, and then he was killed with the rest of them. Garock would kill me, too, if he suspected that I knew anything about that tunnel.” He paused for a moment as though to collect his thoughts, then looked at Donovan.
“Along the southern bank, there’s an opening to a cave of some sort—that’s the start of the tunnel. The tunnel comes up under the armory. I don’t know any more than that, but that’s likely your best bet for getting inside. The slaves are never allowed on that south side, so you won’t be disturbed.”
“Thank you, my friend. Is there any way I can repay you for your kindness?”
The slave grinned, showing his black and yellow, broken teeth. “There’s nothing you can do to help me,” he answered, “except, forget you ever saw me when they capture you. No point getting us both killed.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” joked Donovan. “I have no intention of getting captured, but if I do, you’ve got a deal. Be safe, and may the blessings of the Elders shine down upon you.”
The slave looked puzzled and said, “I doubt the Elven Elders would notice a lowly human slave like me, let alone shine down any blessings on me.”
“The Elven Elders were wise enough to know that we all have our roles to play in this world. I think no matter how desperate the situation or how unlikely it may seem, if you look to them, they will reach for you.” And with that, Donovan turned and headed across the creek, heading for the south side of the encampment.