Chapter ten: Interlude

“Do you know where we are?”

“Of course not; that’s the entire purpose of exploring,” Vernon answered his companion as he added the finishing touches to his sketch. His leather-bound book was filled with drawings and annotations of their travels across the Endless Forest, everything inside never before seen by human eyes.

They would make some money with what they had found so far, nothing life-changing, but enough to get by. But Vernon was out to unearth a priceless treasure, something that would set him up for life, and he could feel that he was close. He just had to convince Nathaniel to keep going. It shouldn’t be too difficult to do so, as long as his gold didn’t run out.

“I don’t see the point in complaining so much,” Vernon added as he carefully stowed away his sketchbook. He had spent quite a bit of gold to get the tome enchanted, protecting it from the elements and ensuring it wouldn’t get damaged easily. “I’m paying you good money to protect me. It shouldn’t matter where we are.”

“Won’t be able to spend any of it if we don’t make it back,” Nathaniel grumbled as his eyes scanned the trees, his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Nathaniel was a slim man. His hands were calloused from years of swinging a blade, and his long arms were corded with the same taught muscle that clung to his lithe frame. He was clean-shaven, except for a bushy mustache that reminded Vernon of a fuzzy caterpillar that squirmed underneath an aquiline nose as the man sucked on his teeth. His mustache was a dirty-brown color that matched his sharp eyes and straight hair that hung freely nearly to his shoulders, blowing in the soft breeze that filtered through the trees.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Vernon weakly reassured him. “I have a keen sense of direction.”

Nathaniel only grunted.

Vernon looked over at the man, shaking his head as he watched him stiffen at the slightest noise. The man was wound too tight, like a compressed spring, ready to explode. He needed to relax; Vernon knew it couldn’t be good to be so worked up all the time. But the man did his job well and was a well-known mercenary with a good reputation, so Vernon decided it was best to keep his opinion to himself.

He adjusted his pack, working out a wrinkle between it and his leathers. He was adorned in soft, leather armor, the same style that his “friend” next to him was wearing, but was much newer and less worn. It didn’t provide the best protection from any monsters they might encounter, but it was light and breathable, keeping sweat from pooling beneath it, and was easy to move around in should he need to run away. He hadn’t had to… yet.

“We should follow the river upstream.” Vernon motioned to the slow-moving body of water, crawling through a shallow valley. It was only ten feet across at the widest point, making it barely larger than a creek, and its banks were meandering, gentle curves covered in wide-bladed grass and tall cattails that bent in the breeze.

They walked for some time, a little more than two days. They didn’t follow the river along its banks. Not only was the vegetation thickest there, making it difficult to walk, but monsters and other vicious predators were known to prowl bodies of water looking for prey. Instead, they kept the river barely in sight through the trees, always moving upstream and hopefully toward something worthwhile.

“Hold.” Nathaniel’s voice was a harsh whisper, wrecking their idyllic hike through the forest.

Vernon stopped instantly, having been with the man long enough to know when to listen to him. He might have been holding the purse strings, but he held no illusions as to who was more experienced. The forest around them looked much the same as it had since they entered it; that was one of the reasons they called it the Endless Forest. Tall trees with smooth, almost glossy bark towered over them with thick foliage of greens, some browns, and light yellows. Autumn hadn’t started yet, but there were signs.

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The wildlife still made their usual noises, chittering and squawking, birdcalls coming from hidden perches, and insects buzzing about in incomprehensible patterns. Everything was expected, and with the amount of noise around them, a predator shouldn’t have been stalking about. It had been quite some time since they had seen any signs of anything with teeth. He supposed that in itself was odd but hadn’t put a significant amount of thought into it; perhaps he should have.

“What is it?” Vernon asked after a breath, his eyes wide and searching as he crouched behind his guard.

Nathaniel held up his pointer finger, motioning for him to be silent. His head cocked to the side as if he was listening, but Vernon was deaf to whatever it was.

“Follow. Slowly.” Nathaniel whispered after a moment, standing into a half-crouch while he pulled the steel from his hip.

Vernon obeyed. They picked their way through the forest, Vernon placing his steps in Nathaniel’s as he followed him. The mercenary was much stealthier than he was, and he knew the best places to walk without making much noise. The animals were blissfully ignorant of Vernon’s frayed nerves and thundering heart beating painfully in his chest. He had been in dangerous situations before; the world wasn’t a safe place for anyone, but every time was like the first time; it never got any easier.

He smelled wood smoke. The acrid tang of civilization was carried on the breeze from further into the forest. It was something he wasn’t expecting; this forest was supposed to be unexplored, a new frontier completely unknown. It wasn’t as if no one had ever ventured into it; many had, and more than a few had returned with wondrous herbs, tall tales of slaying terrifying monsters, or hauling out natural treasures coveted by the mages getting fat in their gilded towers. But nothing he had read or heard about spoke of any people living in the forest.

“Goblins?” Vernon asked, his voice as low as he was to the ground. Those awful little creatures were considered anything but bright but could still bang two rocks together to make a fire.

Nathaniel shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the trees. “No. There’s no stench; it’s something else.” He paused. “Stay here…”

Vernon wanted to protest, but before he could, his guard had already moved away from him, leaving him behind. He wasn’t wholly defenseless by himself, but he was nowhere near as deadly as the mercenary was and felt a little exposed as he knelt there, alone. Still, he was there for a reason, so he swallowed his concerns and opened his sketchbook. He would record the path they took as best he could and be ready to write down whatever Nathaniel managed to find.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Breaking twigs and heated curses nearly caused Vernon to snap the piece of charcoal he held in his hand. His head snapped out of his sketchbook, and his eyes flitted through the trees, looking for whoever or whatever was causing that noise. It sounded like Nathaniel, and if it was him, he was pissed, but he wasn’t able to see anything past the trees.

“Get up and move!” Nathaniel shouted out, his voice brokering no arguments as he came from behind the tree before him, his feet moving quickly and an arrow piercing through his left shoulder. A thick trail of dark blood flowed from the wound and down his armor; Vernon thought it looked severe, but from the way the mercenary moved, he started to doubt his assessment.

“What happened?” Vernon asked as he stood up to run, moving back the way they had come. Indecision was an excellent way for someone to get killed, and he very much wanted to live.

Without stopping, Nathaniel snapped the arrow’s haft just above the wound, leaving only a short stub of wood so it wasn’t waving around in his face as he ran. “If we make it back, we’re going to be filthy fucking rich…”

Vernon looked over his shoulder at the man, noticing the gleam of greed in his eyes. “What did you find? Tell me.”

“Elves.” He said, looking at him with a sneering smile. “An entire village full of ‘em.”