Of Gods and Elves - By Brian D. Anderson Page 0,4

couldn’t help but look worried, watching Maybell’s hands tremble as she lifted the flask to her lips.

“I’m fine,” said Maybell. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But please understand I’m only thinking of your well-being. Even a young man couldn’t stand this cold for long.”

“Then worry about yourself,” she said. The warm rush of brandy filled her, putting color back in her cheeks. “I may be an old woman. But, you’re no spring chicken.”

Millet laughed as Maybell passed him the flask. “Point taken.”

Neither of them was able to sleep. The fire and the brandy kept them warm, but soon the howl of wolves mixed with the howl of the wind.

“How close do you think they are?” asked Maybell, trying her best to hide her fear.

“Not far from the sound of it,” he answered. “But don’t worry. Wolves rarely trouble travelers, and they won’t come near the fire.”

Malstisos returned just as the sun broke the horizon. “There is a garrison due east of here bearing the same standard as the other soldiers,” he said. “But I found a way around that should keep us out of sight.”

“If they have built a garrison this close to Hazrah, then it’s likely they’ve already taken the city itself,” said Millet. “The king would never allow a foreign army to go unchallenged this close to the capital.” He turned to Maybell. “There is a mining village a day’s ride from here. I have a friend there that can shelter us while we gather information and form a plan. I don’t want to march headlong into the sights of Angrääl unless there is no other choice.”

“If Hazrah has fallen, this trip may have been for naught,” said Malstisos. “The garrison is organized, and they are well prepared. Whoever leads them is no fool. Entering the city unnoticed may be impossible.”

“If getting into the city unnoticed isn’t an option then we’ll hide in plain sight,” Millet replied. “This is not my first dangerous mission.”

“I may be able to help,” said Maybell. “If your friend can get word to the Hazrah temple then perhaps they can find us a way in.”

“There may not be a temple to contact,” said Millet. “Remember what Salmitaya did to the temples in Kaltinor?”

Maybell’s heart ached at the thought. “I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

“Don’t second guess yourself,” replied Millet. “Your actions were correct and merciful. I, for one, am glad you spared her. Once her masters discover her failure I’m sure they will be less than pleased. I doubt that her comfortable life in Kaltinor will last much longer.”

“I hope you’re right.” Maybell wiped a tear from her cheek.

Millet explained to Malstisos their position relative to the mining village so that he could scout it for patrols. They were forced to change direction three times to avoid detection. When they reached the edge of the village, they hid behind some bushes and watched for a time. When no soldiers were in sight, Millet told Maybell and Malstisos to wait while he entered and made contact with his friend.

“I don’t like you going alone,” said Maybell.

“Until we know what’s going on we can’t risk being taken together,” he replied. “I'll need to talk to Markus and make sure it’s safe.”

“Don’t worry, Maybell,” said Malstisos. “If he is taken, I will free him.”

“Fine,” said Maybell, scowling. “Who is this Markus person anyway?”

“He’s the foreman of the Kessel copper mine,” said Millet. “He and I were good friends when we were young.”

“How do you know you can still trust him?” she asked.

“I don’t. But when we were young he was the most honest and dependable man I knew. Besides, it’s either this, or we ride blindly into danger. I’d rather try to escape from here than from the city gates.”

“If you are captured be certain to make enough noise so that I know to come get you,” said Malstisos.

“Absolutely,” Millet agreed.

Millet scanned the area one last time, making certain he wasn’t being watched, and then hurried to the nearby street. Malstisos handed Maybell the flask of elf brandy, which she gratefully accepted. An hour later Millet returned.

“I spoke to Markus,” he said. “He offers us food and shelter.”

“What news of Hazrah?” asked Malstisos.

“It’s not good,” he replied. “We can discuss it at Markus’ house. Keep your hood on until we’re inside. Markus knows you’re with me so there will be no reason to hide your identity once we get there.”

Millet led them to the street and into the