The Elder's Curse Andrew Walbrown (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📖

one motion Ulam lifted his belongings from the ground, swinging them over one of his massive shoulders. He then grabbed Amantius’ backpack and hefted it over the other. “Grab your things; it cannot have gotten too far with him in tow.”

Ulam did not wait for Nilawen to retrieve her gear before he sprinted back into the grass. Within seconds he was crashing into the wall of broad-leaved trees surrounding the oasis, following the trail of blood and crushed plants left behind by whatever was dragging Amantius’ body. He followed the path all the way to the last set of trees, hesitating before he ran into the open desert of the Alakuum.

“Hooves?” Ulam said as he traced the set of tracks embedded into the ash. “Are there horses out here?”

Nilawen kneeled down and traced the prints with a finger. “It’s not a hoofprint, but the footprint of a camel. I’m guessing you’ve never seen one before, but they are similar to horses.” She straightened her back, looking Ulam in the eye. “Amantius was abducted.”

Ulam growled in anger, white-hot fury began to burn inside. At the very least he could respect the carnivorous nature of a wolf or other predator; the Ashlands of the Alakuum were a barren wasteland where meat was extremely scarce, and something as big as Amantius would be a bounty for an entire pack. But to be set upon by a kidnapper, who he assumed had been watching them for at least a day, ignited a rage born from his fraternal instinct to protect his younger foster-brother. Ulam gripped the handle on his axe and ran into the Ashlands, Nilawen shortly behind.

They followed the tracks long into the night, stopping only for a few minutes at a time to quench their thirsts. Ulam was pushing himself dangerously close to exhaustion carrying so much extra weight, but there had been no time to rest. The kidnapper had the advantages of a multiple-hour head start as well as the use of a pack animal; the only way they were going to make up lost ground was by running hard all night.

“We are getting closer,” Ulam said as he kneeled by a pile of wretched smelling brown balls, “this dung is fresh.”

Nilawen chuckled. “I could have told you that by looking at the tracks. But good job.”

From the other side of the hill came a moan unlike any animal Ulam had ever heard. The most similar beast he could compare it to was a cow, but even that was a far stretch. “What was that?”

“A camel,” Nilawen whispered. “They must be on the other side. Be quiet; I don’t think anyone knows we’re here.”

They crawled on their stomachs as they ascended the hill, silently observing the valley on the other side. Four strange-looking creatures were resting on the ground, horse-like in their features but with a long neck and a single hump on their backs. Ulam found them to be a little absurd looking with their big eyes and perpetual smirks, but he could not deny their usefulness in such a harsh environment. Two of the animals had an assortment of goods resting beside them, tightly bound by ropes, most likely the possessions of their owners. Beside them were two white tents separated by a campfire, the flames of which still burned brightly in the night. Using the firelight Ulam was able to spot two figures sitting nearby, still unaware they were being watched from afar.

“Do you see him?” Ulam whispered. He grimaced at the taste of ash that entered his mouth as he spoke.

“No,’ Nilawen replied. “He might be in a tent or tied to the other side of one of those camels.”

Ulam grunted. There were two of them, and to the best of his knowledge, only two people in the camp below them. He assumed they were armed, and if alerted they could be a real threat, but if he took them by surprise he could dispatch both without either having a legitimate chance to defend themselves. I cannot count on Nilawen to fight; if they have swords or spears and she only has a dagger she will be in too much danger. Yet, I know if I try to leave her behind she will only want to help even more. Is violence the only way? I have enough money that I could perhaps barter for Amantius, but that assumes they are willing to trade. Not only that but if they are not willing to do business, then I surrender my advantage of surprise. No, I must assume they are hostile.

“What are we going to do?” Nilawen broke the silence.

“You go for the camels and tent, I will take care of the two by the fire,” Ulam mumbled. “Take your dagger; it has been a few years since I have been in combat and my skills may be diminished.”

Nilawen made for the camels, her footsteps absorbed by the shifting ash at her feet. Meanwhile, Ulam continued crawling in the ash, strafing across the surface like a sidewinding serpent. He waited until he was behind the tents to stand, using them as an obstruction to keep out of view. He approached carefully, always keeping an eye on the ground for twigs or other hazards that would betray his presence. As he drew nearer an indescribable excitement grew inside him, not one born from fear, but from some unknown parts of his soul. It was the same rush he felt in the Sanctuary when he battled and beheaded the corrupted fiend, the same bloodlust which overtook him as he defended Count Aldamar from the Mad Raven’s army. He did not understand why he was so excited, only that the emotion was so strong within him he nearly charged into the camp screaming a wordless battle cry.

But then, as a lion can be scared away a moment before she pounces, Ulam too was overcome with doubt. The nearest camel stood and bellowed a hideous sound, causing the other three to stand