A half hour later, Donovan was out of arrows. He had managed to reduce the small army by eleven men and held off the others, giving Brandela a chance to get away. Now, he picked up his broadsword as the first of the remaining soldiers rushed toward him for a direct attack.
Donovan held his ground until the first man drew near, then stepped out of the soldier’s path at the last minute, flicking his blade down toward the enemy’s unprotected ankle at the same time . Donovan’s sword sliced deep, through muscle, tendon, and bone. The man collapsed under his own weight and Donovan quickly took advantage, plunging his blade point directly into the back of the man’s neck.
His next opponent came at him from behind. With a blinding burst of speed, Donovan twirled out of his way and clipped the man’s foot while he passed. The soldier stumbled and lost his balance, giving Donovan an opening. Donovan swung his blade downward across the enemy’s unprotected back, cutting deep.
Donovan turned and parried a sword thrust that had been aimed at his back. He batted the blows of his new opponent aside and, with all his strength, rammed his body directly into the soldier’s shield, driving the man backward and causing him to stumble over one of his comrade’s bodies. As the soldier fell, Donovan delivered a well-placed sword thrust into the man’s throat. He twisted the blade and pulled it out of the enemy’s now lifeless body.
Donovan spun around, seeking his next attacker, but found none. There were about a dozen men left, but they stood back, watching him and waiting. For what…, or who? Donovan wondered. He took advantage of the lull to catch his breath and refocus. He had a feeling that whoever they were waiting for would put him to the test.
Moments later, a giant of a man came marching into the passage. Donovan recognized him at once. It was Garock! Garock had a grin on his face, as though he expected to take great pleasure in what was coming. Garock charged towards Donovan without hesitation, his shield directly in front of him. Donovan knew exactly what he intended to do; Garock was going to try to ram him. Donovan smiled. Here, at last, was his chance to avenge Alayna’s murder at the hands of this evil man. He, too, welcomed this battle.
Donovan quickly sidestepped Garock’s attack and spun his blade downward, only to have it clip Garock’s shield. Garock, although large, was remarkably agile, and had turned towards Donovan at the last possible moment. Garock began to hammer ax blows towards Donovan. Donovan sidestepped most of the attacks and batted aside the others. They were well matched and the fighting was fierce between the two men.
The watching soldiers began to place wagers on the outcome of the fight. Donovan knew that he was in the fight of his life. It was a fight he had every intention of winning. Still, he realized that even if he won this fight, there was no way he was getting out of this alive. The others would be much too eager to finish the job. For a moment, his mind went to Brandela. Could she “feel” what was happening? He hoped not. If only he could see her just one more time.
An ax blow narrowly missed his face, bringing Donovan back to the moment. He could not afford to let his mind wander. He put all stray thoughts aside and focused all of his will and energy on killing Garock.
Garock was impressed. Never before had he faced an enemy with so much skill, except for the Elven woman during that last fateful battle. He hated to admit it, but he wasn’t sure he was going to come out of this alive. Garock knew he could not be matched in strength by any man, but this Ranger’s speed and skill with the broadsword was like nothing he’d ever seen. Garock would attack with an ax blow and the Ranger would bat his blow aside or completely avoid it, and then counter with two additional blows on his shield. Without his shield, it would be much harder for him to fend off this Ranger’s attacks, but he was confident that the iron-plated shield he was using would hold up against anything the Ranger could offer. It would come down to stamina, and when this Ranger tired out, Garock would have him.
Donovan was beginning to come to the same conclusion. His maneuvers were having little effect on Garock. He would have to come up with something more clever if he hoped to win this battle.
Donovan started to make his blows a little less swift and began to act as if he were tiring. Garock noticed the slight change in the speed of his opponent’s attack and flew, full force, at Donovan, hammering ax blow after ax blow without letting up on Donovan for one moment.
Donovan stumbled, deliberately, and feigned signs of fatigue and Garock came on even more fiercely, using every ounce of energy in his belief that the end was drawing near. But Garock was also tiring now and starting to get sloppy in his attacks, paying less attention to defending himself.
Finally, the moment came when Donovan saw his chance. Garock tried to ram Donovan up against the canyon wall, but Donovan had been reserving his energy for just such a moment. With blinding speed, he leaped aside, causing Garock to run directly into the wall. It stunned the man for a precious second, but that second was all it took for Donovan’s blade to pierce through Garock’s shield arm and thrust into his side.
Garock, now bleeding heavily, dropped his shield. Donovan knew it was only a matter of time now. With a roar, Garock tried, in one last, desperate attempt, to ram his body into Donovan, but found himself hitting nothing but thin air. Donovan stepped aside and brought his blade across Garock’s upper leg. The giant man collapsed. Donovan swiftly thrust his sword into Garock’s upper back, piercing straight through his entire body.
Donovan saw the other soldiers charging toward him, but he didn’t care now. He had slain the man who had murdered Alayna and now he could die in peace. His last thoughts were of Brandela and how he wished he had more time to say goodbye.
Brandela ran frantically, as fast as she could. She cleared the passage and charged into the waist-deep water of the river. The water, pulling at her legs, slowed her down, but soon she was at the other side and picking up speed again as she raced for the tree-line. The Wood Elven forest—her home!
She was about half way there when she was stopped in her tracks by a sudden, heartwrenching sense of loss. She felt as if the fabric of her subconscious had been torn in two. She could no longer sense Donovan’s presence. She fell to her knees and let out an agonized moan. Sobs wracked her body for several minutes before she was able to regain any kind of control.
She was brought back to her senses by the sound of someone splashing through the river. She turned, praying against all hope that she would see Donovan coming toward her. But the man close behind her wore Garock’s uniform.
She stood and for a moment she was torn. What would her life be like now without Donovan? Was returning to the noble life what she really wanted? She didn’t want to be a slave to Garock and his men—that she was sure of. She would not dishonor the memory of her beloved by letting his sacrifice be for nothing. She turned, and with a renewed determination, she began racing toward the forest line. She made it in, paused for a moment to get her bearings and began running in what she thought to be a northwesterly direction.
Garock’s second-in-command was giving the orders now and he wanted Brandela for himself. Now that Garock was dead, he was the boss and he would do whatever he had to do to get the princess back. When he had her in his possession, he would use her as he pleased. And once he was done with her, then maybe he would ransom her back to her people and start a raiding band of his own. He watched as she slipped into the cover of the forest. She was so close. He couldn’t let her get away now.
He hesitated at the edge of the forest for only a moment before he and his men followed. Surely, he could catch her before any of the Wood Elven scouts had even been alerted.
Brandela ran until she thought her lungs would burst. She knew she would not be able to keep up this maddening pace for much longer. Still, she continued to push herself, willing her body to take her deeper into the protective arms of the forest.
Brandela ran until her legs gave out, but as she was picking herself up off the ground, she could hear her pursuers closing in behind her. She couldn’t escape them. They were much too close. Part of her did not care if they killed her. Now that Donovan was dead, she felt she had nothing else to live for. And yet, she would not let them take her as their prisoner again. She would fight with every ounce of strength she had left.
Unknown to Brandela or her pursuers, a large, cloaked figure was observing the chase from a distance. Akenji saw the moment when the trespassers entered the forest, and he watched now as the small group of men pursued their prey. His men were already in position and surrounding this whole area; all he had to do was give the order and all these intruders would die. He would wait, though, and see if they would leave peacefully when they had captured the one being pursued.
Akenji watched as the young woman was knocked down by a larger man, and dragged back to her feet by her hair. He didn’t like what he was seeing, but he could not interfere with human activities. If they approached the humans, they would have to kill them. It was Lord Aden’s rule. So, for now, he watched, ready to give the signal if it became necessary.
The woman was much smaller than her attacker. Something about her stature reminded him of Alayna and a jolt of sorrow ran through him. He wondered what had become of Donovan. Not a day went by that he didn’t miss his friend and hope for his safe return.
Akenji was surprised by what the woman did next. She kicked the man between his legs, sending him to the ground in a crumpled, groaning heap. As Akenji looked on, the woman took out a thin-bladed short sword and began frantically hacking at the downed man. She slashed and prodded any vulnerable place she could reach. Soon, the downed man stopped moving altogether and, right at that moment, five other men crashed into the clearing.
When they saw their leader down and dead, they stared at the woman in shock. They couldn’t believe that she had been able to kill such a skilled warrior by herself. Akenji couldn’t blame them for their disbelief. He wouldn’t have believed it himself if he had not seen it with his own eyes.
The woman turned to face her new attackers with her short sword raised. Her entire body was splattered with the blood of the man she had just killed and she had a furious, wild-eyed look on her face. Akenji thought she looked like she was ready to face her death. She had no fear.
Right at that moment, a gust of wind blew away the headscarf the woman was wearing and Akenji saw the pronounced, pointed ears. She was an Elf! He raised his fist in the air and gave out rapid fire hand signals to his watchmen to not harm the woman. He waited a moment longer, then gave the signal to attack.
The attack was swift, silent and deadly. Brandela didn’t know what was going on. All of a sudden, arrows came flying out of nowhere and, within minutes, all five men were on the ground, dead or dying. She looked around frantically for the source of the arrows but could not see anyone at all.
Then a man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, walking through the trees towards her. He was a large man and he wore a green cloak like that of Donovan. A Ranger! She was amongst her own people and was finally safe now. Before he could reach her, she collapsed with fatigue and emotional exhaustion. It would be late the next day before she regained consciousness.
She woke to the sound of a strange voice with an accent that was somewhat similar to the way Donovan spoke. She opened her eyes and saw the biggest man she had ever seen. He had brown skin and gray eyes and was human. She immediately thought she had been captured again by the Barbarians and she cried out in despair. But another man spoke, using the Elven language and said, “It’s okay. Akenji always has that effect on people at first. Don’t worry about him; he won’t hurt you—except if he’s hungry enough, he might eat you.” The other men in the room laughed, but Akenji gazed at her seriously.
In a deep voice, he told her, “You are amongst friends here. I am Akenji. I can tell from your looks that you are obviously a Wood Elf, but I don’t understand why you would be all the way out here in the wilderness, away from your people.”
“You are Akenji?” gasped Brandela. Donovan had told her so much about this man, his best friend. This must be Donovan’s band of the Elven-trained human Rangers. How could she tell them that Donovan was gone? She began to weep once again for her loss. She could hardly believe how much she already missed him.