Mikhail shook his head trying to clear the tiredness from his mind. Bakule had slowed from a brisk trot to a meandering walk after Mikhail had felt that they were far enough away from those guys in the stand of trees. He wasn’t sure what they had been trying to do but he knew that it had been of an evil nature. His instincts had told him that. He had quickly gotten back to the campsite and woken Anora. She had protested riding Bakule again, largely due to what Mikhail had done the day before. Something that he now hated having done. The goblin was already skittish as it was. Mikhail breathed the cold morning air deeply, in another effort to stay awake. He stopped short though as he caught the scent of Anora’s red curls. They had a warm and homely smell.
The sky was still dark, the stars shining bright. Anora leaned against his chest, fast asleep as they continued down the road. Mikhail hated that he would have to wake her up soon but it was getting harder to stay awake. He figured that it had to be around four in the morning or so. He looked down at Anora, her body swaying gently with Bakule’s movements as she slept. “By Aran, she is really beautiful.” He thought to himself. After a moment he shook his head again. This time to clear those thoughts from his head. He silently berated himself. “Stupid, you can’t fall in love with a goblin. What would everyone back home think?”
He looked up at the sky for a time, watching some meteors streak through the inky blackness above them but returned his attention back to Anora as he felt her stirring. Looking down he was met with Orange eyes that reflected the moon and starlight back at him, much like those of a predator. He wondered to himself why they had such eyes, figuring that it was mostly due to living inside the caves of mountains.
“You’re awake.” Mikhail said. Anora stared at him for a second then nodded. He had originally put her on Bakule facing forward but soon had her spin around as she kept falling face forward in her sleep and nearly impaling herself on Bakules large antlers. Anora laid her head back against his chest and for a time they rode in silence.
Mikhail could feel himself succumbing to his tiredness again and thought to ask Anora some questions. “Anora.” he started. He could feel her look up at him. “Can you see in the dark?” he asked, not really expecting her to understand what he meant but to his surprise, she did. She nodded yes. “Really?” Mikhail said excitedly. He pointed to something out in front of them, Anora following his finger. “What’s that ahead of us?”
Anora looked ahead for a moment then looked back up at him. She sat up straight and mimed what looked like four legs using her arms and legs, then held her hand to her mouth in the rough shape of a snout and leaned back, trying her best to mimic the howl of a wolf. The sound was a bit off and muted but Mikhail got the gist of it.
“A wolf?” he asked. Anora nodded. Mikhail reached for his spear in its holster on the saddle and pulled it out. Anora watched with concern then placed a hand on Mikhail’s right arm. He looked down at Anora. She shook her head at him, her orange eyes never leaving hers. Mikhail lowered the spear but kept it firmly in his hand as they continued to ride and soon passed the spot where the wolf was. As they neared Mikhail could see that it simply sat on the side of the road, watching them pass by seemingly uninterested in pursuing them. Mikhail had heard tales of lone wolves, outcasts from their packs. It seems that without a pack to back it up the wolf had decided to leave them be. Most likely figuring that two people and a large elk would not be an easy kill for one wolf.
Another hour passed and the sounds of night began to slowly give way to the sounds of daylight as the first rays of sunlight made their way over the peaks of the mountains in the west. The same mountains that Mikhail hailed from. He had asked Anora some more questions such as where she was from? How old was she? But most of them were met with a shrug except for where she was from and her age. She pointed to the mountains for her home which Mikhail chuckled. That was a given and really a dumb question. Then surprisingly to him she tapped his chest eighteen times. He had been surprised because he had assumed that she had no knowledge of counting and because it mirrored his own age.
Mikhail smiled, feeling the warmth of the sun hitting his face. Birds began to chirp, flying from the tall grass and into the ever lighting sky. A small breeze blew through their hair. “So you’re the same age as me huh?” he asked Anora. She only nodded in return. “How long have you been by yourself?” he asked her.
Three taps on his chest was the answer. Mikhail nodded. “Why did you leave your home?” He followed up. Silence. Mikhail looked down, seeing a dour expression on Anora’s smooth green face, he marveled at all of the orange freckles she had then shook his head to clear his thoughts. Anora looked up at him, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention again. When he looked back at her she pointed at the ground. Mikhail pulled Bakule to a stop. “She doesn’t look angry or upset,” he thought to himself. Secretly happy that she wasn’t.
Mikhail dismounted and stretched his legs. Then once finished he turned and reached up. Anora looked at him a bit confused until he said. “I’m helping you down. You’re short.” he gestured the height from the ground with his hand. “I’ll grab you so you don’t fall. Okay?”
Anora took a second then nodded, allowing him to reach up and place each of his outstretched hands on her sides. He blushed as his hands brushed her breasts and quickly apologized. Anora smiled and nodded at him as her feet touched the ground. Bakule shifted his weight, snorting as he did. “Yeah buddy. I’m sure it feels good.”
After her feet had touched the ground Anora had run off and Mikhail took the chance to relieve himself, stepping on the other side of Bakule. A problem that Mikhail was noticing about the plains was the lack of trees and other fauna to hide oneself. After finishing he looked around the area for any sticks that might be used to make a fire. The spring air was a bit chilly and if it had bothered Anora she showed no signs of it when she returned from the bushes. He expected that she had done much the same as he had except preferring a more private spot which made sense as she was a woman but from what little he knew of goblins it seemed a bit strange. They weren’t a bunch that seemed to put much stock in manners and decorum.
Reaching into a pouch he pulled out some bread and cheese wrapped in cloth. “Want some?” he asked her, holding some of the food in front of her nonchalantly. She nodded and he handed her a chunk of bread and cheese each. Together they sat on the ground on the edge of the road and began to eat. The sun was peeking above the mountains when they finished eating and mounted Bakule again. The elk, a bit perturbed by being drawn away from his grazing.
To Mikhail’s surprise Anora had gotten back on Bakules back with little fuss. Either she had started to get used to him or she realized that walking would be a terrible idea. Either way it made traveling much easier and enjoyable. The morning trudged along as the sun climbed ever higher into the sky. The breeze on the plains whipped the grass back and forth, causing it to ripple across the land. They watched meadow larks and other foul flutter from one spot to another. “This place is beautiful.” Mikhail said aloud. Anora, now facing forward in the saddle, looked back at him for a moment, nodding in agreement. Off in the distance a farm stood defiant against the vast and open expanse, some farmers out tilling the ground but too far away for them to see them very well. Mikhail thought it an odd place to have a farm, so far away from a town but continued on, clicking his tongue and spurring Bakule into a trot.
Anora quickly looked back at him with a concerned expression but Mikhail only smiled and muttered. “Trust me.”
Only slightly convinced she sat straighter against him in an effort to find a safer position waiting for him to make Bakule run. The moment never came and the elk held himself at a decent trot. Not that the elk didn’t want to run. It was in his nature to run swiftly but Mikhail kept him under control and would tug at the reins anytime Bakule tried to take more than he was given. They strode through the plains for a time just enjoying the sights and each other's company until the sun had passed its noon zenith.
Coming to another small stand of trees and a stream they stopped for lunch. Mikhail was glad to see the tree’s even sparse as they were. Tree’s meant firewood and firewood meant a hot meal. He had steered Bakule near the stream dismounting quickly and then helping Anora down once again, leaving Bakule untied as the elk drank from the stream, its ears twitching back and forth as it drank.
Soon, with Anora’s help they had a small fire going and some meat cooking. Anora sat underneath a tree watching Mikhail cook the meat, the scent of it searing over the fire making her mouth water and stomach grumble. Mikhail would glance up, chuckling to himself everytime he saw the look on her face as she watched the meat cook. He wagered that she hadn’t gotten much meat out in the wilderness by herself since she had been very thin when he had first met her, which would have been a week ago by now.
He pulled his knife from his belt and sliced off a piece of the meat. “Here.” he said as he handed it to her. She leaned forward and grabbed it from him, Quickly biting into it with her sharp and pointed teeth. He watched her consume the meat with gusto, seemingly ignoring her burning fingers and the meat had been very hot.
“Back home.” Mikhail started as he sat, now chewing on a piece of meat himself. “We let the children and women eat first.”
Anora looked up at him, tears in her eye’s now. “Wait. What’s with the crying?” he asked. “Was it too hot?”
Anora wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and shook her head. Mikhail leaned forward and cut another piece. “You want some more?” he asked, tentatively.
She nodded yes and grabbed the piece from Mikhail. This time eating the meat a bit more slowly. Seeming to savor the flavor and taste of the meat, tears still falling down cheeks. “Are..are you ok?” Mikhail asked after watching her for a moment. In his experience with girls, which wasn’t as much as some other men in his village, he knew that they didn’t just cry for no reason. Anora swallowed the chunk she had been eating, looking at the ground she wiped her face again. Before Mikhail could say anything she looked up and smiled at him before breaking down into sobbing. Mikhail frowned. “I need to do something,” he thought to himself. Something in him made him feel compelled to stop the crying. Although he didn’t know what. He stuck the knife into his belt and rose to his feet and stepped over to the spot where Anora sat.
Mikhail sat down, an uncomfortable nervousness rising in his gut. It felt as if butterflies were tumbling around in his stomach. “Why am I nervous?” He asked himself mentally. “I’ve touched her before.” he thought further as he placed his left hand on her back and rubbed it, trying to comfort Anora. The goblin woman looked up at him with her orange eye’s, wet with tears as she sobbed. Mikhail’s heart wrenched at the sight. “Hey,” he began. “It’s alright. I think I get It. You’ve been by yourself for a long time and judging by the scars that you have, especially that one on your neck, you’ve had a rough time at it huh?”
Anora sucked in a sob that made her shudder. Then nodded yes. Mikhail turned his head and looked down for a moment, seemingly making up his mind. “Tradition be damned.” he thought as he settled on the decision. “Listen!” he said sternly, getting her attention. “I don’t know all that you have gone through but I want you to stay with me from now on. I promise to keep you safe.” As he said that he could hear his mothers voice telling him a piece of wisdom that she had given him a couple years ago.
“Don’t make a girl a promise you can’t keep. They take them to heart and will hold you to it.” Mikhail smiled at the words.
Anora stared back at him, still sobbing as he rubbed her back, hoping it would make her feel better. Anora studied his face and blue eyes for a second, trying to detect any deception. He only smiled back, his face radiating trust and confidence. Anora threw herself into his chest and wrapped her small arms around him, hugging tighter than she had hugged anyone before. Mikhail threw his arms back in surprise as she buried her face in his tunic, sobbing harder. Mikhail didn’t really know what to do so he just placed one arm around her and rubbed her back, comforting her as he let out the emotions that she was feeling. “It must be damn hard to be a mute goblin in this world.” he thought as they sat next to the stream underneath the trees. “I’m gonna make it easier for her.”
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A couple hours passed as the two of them sat by the stream. Anora had stopped crying after a time and would sniffle every so often but other than that they continued their meal. Anora now sat much closer to Mikhail as they ate and conversed. Or rather as Mikhail talked. Anora simply listened as he told her tales of his village Aldenhor. Tales like the time he and his sister climbed a big tree as high as they could go only for his sister to lose her grip and fall. He had grabbed her just in time and saved her from breaking her legs or arms. He told her of the time that he and some of his friends had stolen a pie off the window sill of old woman Gerdur’s. He laughed as he told of how old Gerdur had nearly caught them as they ran to the woods, just escaping and then of him and his buddies had burned there hands and mouth eating the hot pie then getting a beating by his father after he returned home, finding out that the old woman had went straight to their parents house and tattled on them.
Mikhail chuckled and shook his head. “Boy we were pretty dumb, thought that we had gotten away with it but didn’t think about her telling our fathers.” they were silent for a moment then Anora tapped on his arm. He looked down at her, the look on her face seemingly more relaxed than it had been before her crying. “What’s up?” he asked.
Anora pointed at him then at Bakule followed by a walking gesture. Mikhail thought for a second then realized that she was asking why he was traveling. “Oh that. Well see my people have a tradition, something we do every year.” he explained. “The young men like me.” He pointed at himself. “Have to go on a pilgrimage for seven years. We can’t return until the seven years are up.” He told her, her eyes locked on him and filled with curiosity.
Mikhail cut another slice of meat from the chunk and handed it to her. Then he cut him a piece. The flavors of salt and the juices combined to make a unique taste. He glanced back at her. She seemed to want to know more. He smiled and continued. “While we are on our pilgrimage we are encouraged to find some skill to learn that will be useful to the village. Something like new building techniques or blacksmithing, things like that.” He took another bite of the meat. “I chose blacksmithing. Like my father.”
He returned his attention to the meat and cut a final piece from it, grabbed the stake he had used to skewer the meat and handed it to Anora. “Here, this is usually the best part. Has a lot of flavor and you could use the extra meat.”
Anora grabbed the skewer and smiled, taking a large bite from it. The flavor was unlike anything she had ever experienced until earlier. Salty and juicy.
Mikhail stood up and stretched, his belly full for the time being, he kicked dirt on the hot coals then offered his hand to Anora smiling. “Come on, it’s time we get back on the road.”
She took his hand and he gently pulled her to her feet. Soon they were back upon Bakule, Anora sitting in front of Mikhail as he pulled the reins to the left and right and bringing Bakule to a brisk walk. The rolling hills of the plains becoming more and more flat with each passing mile. The sun trudged along in the sky as the hours melted away. Every now and then Mikhail would catch glimpses of Anora looking back at him. As soon as he would go to acknowledge her she would turn her head straight and act as if she hadn’t looked at him. It perplexed him a bit but he chuckled to himself.
The sun had begun to fall in the west and Mikhail figured that it had to be around five in the evening. Soon he would have to find them a suitable place to make camp. But his searching was interrupted as they crested a hill and saw a long caravan of wagons before them. He pulled Bakule to a stop atop the hill, counting the wagons. There were only ten, being pulled by an assortment of animals. One was being pulled by a large ox, a man walking beside it with what looked like a long stick. Behind him were a few wagons pulled by horses. The rest seemed to be pulled by animals that looked like horses but were shorter and had longer ears. The wind blew from the wagon's direction over them. Bakule snorted and shifted underneath Mikhail and Anora.
“Got a bad feeling eh buddy?”
As an answer the elk turned its horned head and looked at Mikhail. “I’ll be careful.” Mikahil replied as he reached out and patted the elk’s thick neck. He clicked his tongue, the elk surged forward. Anora looked up at Mikhail. Hooked down and smiled. “Trust me.” was all he said.
As the two parties closed the distance between them Mikhail could see more details. They looked to be merchants of some sort which was good. He would be able to replenish some of the supplies he had used. He could see women sitting in the front and children running around the wagons, or playing in the tall grass of the plains. Once more the wind blew from the south. This time carrying a scent with it that Mikhail did not like. It must have been the scent that Bakule had picked up earlier that had made him uneasy. It smelled of fear and death, tangy and metallic. Mikhail reached down to his right and pulled the metal spear from its holster. He held it beside him as they rode closer.
Soon they were upon the first wagon and he could hear the wagon masters yell. “HALT!!” as they came upon him.
“Hail, well met.” Called the man beside the ox. Mikhail pulled the Bakule to a stop once more. The man wore a simple green tunic and brown breeches, his leather booths looked scuffed and weathered. He wasn’t very tall and of average build with a face that looked like it had seen too many years in the sun. Mikhail looked him in the eye and returned the greeting. “Hello there. Who might you fellows be?” He asked, gesturing with his spear at the rest of the wagons.
He watched the man's reaction to the use of the spear. Mikhail had meant it as a show of strength. To show that he wouldn’t be a pushover. The man seemed to ignore him though, only staring at him, Bakule and mostly at the goblin that sat before Mikhail in the saddle. He seemed to be flabbergasted at the sight before him.
Anora took in the sight of all of the wagons and people. She watched the children running around and playing with each other. Then she looked up at the women who sat in the seats of the wagons or underneath the white coverings that stretched atop the vessels. She watched as they pointed and talked amongst themselves, some leering at her and Mikhail. She tried her best to sink into Mikhail as much as she could in an effort to hide herself.
Mikhail could feel Anora sinking lower in the saddle against him but paid it no mind. Bakule shifted nervously under them. “Hey, I asked who you are.” He said boldly. The man seemed to snap out of a trance and replied.
“My apologies, elk rider. It’s not everyday one comes across your kind and with a goblin no less. I am Nerdef Stersk, a simple merchant trader. Who are you elk rider?” the man replied with a question of his own.
“I am Mikhail of the elk riders.” Miklhail answered. “My last name is not important.”
Nerdef looked slightly annoyed at that but made nothing of it. By now a commotion from the back had begun to grow. Mikhail turned his attention from Nerdef and looked down the line of wagons, noticing two large men stalking toward them at a brisk pace. Mikhail frowned, he didn’t like the looks of them. Bakule snorted and shifted once again under them. Mikhail turned his attention back to Nerdef, seeing him take a step back, his hands in the air. Mikhail brought his spear over Anora and pointed it at Nerdef. “It would be wise of you to keep to yourself.”
Nerdef looked at the spear point, swallowing as he looked back up at Mikhail. “As you wish.”
Mikhail kept the spear pointed at him however as the other two men made their way into the group, eyeing Mikhail menacingly, their eyes going wide at the sight of Anora on the elk's back. Mikhail did not like the look. Anora liked it even less. “What in the seven hells is going on here Nerdef!?” the taller of the two yelled. “We have a schedule to keep you fool, and this is not a scheduled stop.”
Nerdef looked even more anxious now. Taking his eyes off of Mikhail and confronting the taller man. “This boy stopped us, Lark.” he said pointing at Mikhail. The man named Lark followed Nerdef’s hand. Looking Mikhail straight in the eye then looking down at Anora as she did her best to hide herself from sight. His eyes were black and beady. Set in a cruel looking face that had seen many years of sun and squinting along with other horrors that Mikhail could not make out. He smiled, showing yellow teeth with the ones that remained in his skull. “What do ya want, boy?” he asked with venom laced in the last word.
Mikhail frowned but replied as he lowered the spear a bit. A mistake that he would soon regret. “I was just looking to trade. You lot look like merchants. He even said as much.” Mikhail said and pointed at Nerdef. Lark looked back at Nerdef then back at Mikhail. Throwing his arms wide he laughed, an unnerving sound it was.
“Sure boy, we are merchants. Ya looking for supplies?” He asked as he smiled. Mikhail nodded and brought the spear back over Anora and him to his right side.
“I am. I’m looking to replenish some meat and to inquire about a town known as Sablewood.” He told Lark. “Maybe some grain for my elk. If you have any.”
As Mikhail spoke with Lark he hadn’t noticed the man that had come with him stepping around to his right side. But Anora had. She had watched him the entire time as the man crept ever closer to them. She tapped Mikhail, trying to get his attention but he was too engaged with the conversation with the tall and mean looking man called Lark. The man crept closer but stopped.
“Why don’t ya climb down from that elk.” Lark said to Mikhail. “And we’ll get ya those supplies. I hope ya got coin though, boy.”
Mikhail grinned but kept his eyes on Lark. His gut was telling him to not trust him. “No thanks. I’m comfortable up here.” he said, feeling Anora tap on him again. “Not now Anora.” he said under his breath but never took his eyes from Lark. He watched as the man looked past him, past Bakule and Anora and smiled before yelling. “NOW!” Before Mikhail could react he felt the spear being yanked from his hand. He turned his head, everything seemingly happening in slow motion as if time had decided to stand still.
Mikhail watched as the spear flew through the air and landed in the tall grass, then the culprit, the other tall man that had come with Lark reached up and grabbed Anora as another set of hands grabbed him and pulled him from Bakule. As he fell he yelled. “Bakule, Yaahhh..”
The elk reared up on its hind legs and kicked out with its front legs. In a flash the elk was running alongside the wagons then out into the field of grass. Mikhail hit the ground and rolled, a foot falling hard on the ground where he had been an instant before. Now a loud cheering and jeering came from the women in the wagons. Mikhail righted himself, pulling his knife from it’s belt. This was the kind of thing that his father had trained him for and he would not fail his training. Anger blossomed inside of his breast and he allowed it to wash into him, but kept it at bay enough to be controlled. The man that had grabbed Anora struggled with her as he held her in a bear grip and did his best to run to the back of the wagon line.
Mikhail roared and charged Lark with his large knife. He was going to gut the man for his actions. As he closed in, the man chuckled and stepped into Mikhail’s charge. Mikhail, surprised, dashed to the side and thrusted the knife towards the man's chest. Another feint from Lark and the blade sunk into his side instead of his chest. Lark grunted but then laughed. “Ya foolish boy.” He spat. “Just as green as that damned goblin wench.” He taunted as he grabbed Mikhail’s arm in a tight grip, locking him and the knife in place. Lark pulled Mikhail in close. “I’m goin to kill ya, boy. Then I’m going to have my way with that pretty little greenskin. After that I’ll sell her to the highest bidder.”
Mikhail’s eyes widened at the revelation that these men were slaver’s and that most of the women were most likely slaves on their way to be delivered. But at the mention of the man having his way with Anora, Mikhail lost his temper. Lark pulled back a massive fist. At this range Mikhail knew he couldn’t dodge it and prepared himself mentally for the blow a second later. It was powerful and landed square on his jaw but it hadn’t been anything that he hadn’t experienced before in his training or fighting with the other guys.
He allowed the force of the blow to knock him back a few feet, inwardly grinning as he acted out that it had been more than he could handle. Lark howled with laughter. “Not as strong as you thought you were, Eh boy!?”
Mikhail faked a trip and fell to the ground, turning over and crawling backwards into the tall grass as the tall man trudged toward him. Murder on his face. Already Mikhail could feel his face begin to swell from the blow but he ignored it. As he entered into the gras Lark towered above him. “I’ve gotcha now, boy.”
Mikhail grinned, blood flowing from his busted lip as his spear found its owner. “No, I have you.” The spear was a blur as Mikhail thrusted it up into Larks chest. The large man now howled with pain as Mikhail pushed against his weight and got to his feet. As he pushed he yelled out. “BAKULE!!!”
In an instant the weight became less on Mikhail as the elk ran from the grass and used his antlers to push the large man up, impaling him as he did. Lark screamed from the antlers impaling him then quickly turned to gurgling as the antlers had clearly punctured his neck and other vital areas. Hot blood poured down onto Mikhail as they pushed the man to the ground. Mikhail stood up tall, catching his breath as Lark gurgled and tried to throw curses at Mikhail. Mikhail raised the spear and thrusted it down into the man's head. “Stronger than you thought, eh?” He said as he spit blood on the ground and pulled the spear from Larks head. He looked up at the women, who shrank back in fear from his look. A thought crossed his mind but he quickly dismissed it. He didn’t harm women.
Bakule stepped up beside him, pieces of gore dripped blood as they hung on his antlers. Mikhail wasted no time. He mounted the elk and spurred him to run, quickly disappearing around the wagons. There ahead of him he could see the man that had grabbed Anora. Rage burned in his mind as Bakule was at a full gallop. The coward must have heard them coming as turned around, Anora writhing in his arms trying to fight herself free. Her face lit up when she spotted Mikhail and Bakule. “Damn. I can’t get a good shot on him with her like that.”
By now other men in the caravan had heard the commotion and had took up arms. An arrow whizzed by Mikhail’s face. He glanced over and saw some men kneeling down, reloading what looked like crossbows. “By Aran this is annoying!” he yelled more to himself. He rode past Anora and the man that held her and circled around. Trying to figure out how to get an opening with his spear all the while doing his best to evade the crossbow bolts. His tunic and leather armor wouldn’t stop one of those.
As Mikhail completed his circle he lined up Bakule and grasped the spear tighter. He had an idea that he hoped would work. If it didn’t then he would be dead quickly, Anora would become a slave and Bakule would most likely be dinner. He urged Bakule faster and felt the animal pour on more speed as he grabbed the saddle and quickly jumped up, placing his feet beneath himself. There he crouched until the opportune time where he could leap from the elks back. Another bolt whizzed past his head, then another. Bakule scrambled in pain as one lodged itself in his neck. The elk kept his heading though.
“By the grace of Shay, please don’t let me not miss.” He prayed to himself as leapt from Bakule’s back. The elk veered off and Mikhail soared through the air, a blood covered demon as he yelled a Battle cry. Rage had finally taken his mind. He watched as Anora bit the man's arm with her sharp pointed teeth, taking a chunk as he dropped her. Before he could react Mikhail’s spear point pierced his chest as Mikhail thrusted it down into his body, riding the man's body to the ground. As they hit the ground, the man now dead, Mikhail rolled and pulled his spear with him. As quickly as he could he grabbed Anora and pulled her into a sprint. Bakule came onto their left side, shielding them from any more crossbow bolts.
Mikhail, still running, threw Anora onto the saddle and as they passed behind the last wagon he climbed on himself. Noticing two more crossbow bolts protruding from Bakules side. He made a mental note to pull them out but for now he urged the elk to run, Anora hanging on as tight as she could.