The Home Stone

As they entered the pass, the troll continued his run without slowing. Even with the sharp incline and loose rocks, he never faltered. They moved on up the pass at such a pace that after a few hours the elf felt her horse begin to tire. She knew that the troll would not wait for her if she stopped. If she lost him now, she might never be able to see or speak to the rogue before he was executed. They moved up the pass for the better part of the evening, climbing ever higher into the Crags. Here, so high up, one could see patches of snow scattered about and the air cooled quickly. Way up here in the mountains it still felt like winter. Just before midnight, with her horse on the brink of exhaustion, the path leveled out and the troll called for a short rest. It was so cold up here at this height that the Shannon wanted to start a fire, but there wasn’t any wood around for burning.

“Can’t you slow the pace a bit?” Shannon asked the troll, but he just looked at her and laughed.

“If you want to get there in time to speak to your friend then you’ll just have to keep up,” was his reply.

He then stood up and began his trot eastward. The pass was not wide but with a full moon on a clear night one could easily follow it without danger of falling into crevices or off the cliffs that lined one side. At some places, the path narrowed so that the party had to travel in single file. Shannon traveled the rest of the night just trying to keep up with the giant troll. The cold air prevented her from becoming too sleepy, allowing them to reach the downward part of the pass before dawn’s early light touched the horizon. From here she could see the lights of Agru come into view and where Brendan was being held.

Built on a small plateau about half way on the mountain pass, the village seemed to be teeming with life. Off to one corner, carpenters were busy constructing some gallows. Shannon knew for whom that was for, but did not say a word. She followed the troll to the gate of what seemed to be a small prison. Here he stopped her and entered the gatehouse alone. After what seemed to be an eternity, he reemerged and motioned to Shannon to accompany him.

“This is Captain Groc,” the troll announced to the elf girl. “He will take you to your friend.”

“Thank you,” replied Shannon. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Turning, a slight smile appeared on his almost wooden face. “Rotag,” he answered and walked out of the door.

“What does an elf girl want with the likes of him?” asked the captain.

Shannon repeated the story of the Home Stone as they walked to where the prisoner was kept.

“That’s quite a story,” Groc said as he put a large skeleton key into an iron lock that could hold back even the largest of trolls. There was a loud click as the tumblers were pushed aside. With a mighty pull the captain opened the heavy Ironwood door. Inside Shannon found the rogue hanging from heavy chains attached to his wrists. His feet were about two feet off the dirt floor. There was no need for a stone floor as the chains prevented anyone from digging their way out.

As she approached, Shannon saw that Brendan had been beaten. His face was bruised and swollen. There were also several untreated cuts to his arms and chest. Shannon looked back at the captain and said. “I’m sure that you now have all the proof you need to find him guilty.” Then she got angry. “You tortured it out of him. If I were to return to Evermore with this information you can be sure that the Elders will not be happy. You have violated the peace treaty that exists between the elves and trolls. Why is he in chains?”

“I can assure you that the merchant who pointed him out can prove the loss of a family heirloom and that this man stole it,” the captain explained. “The trial begins soon.”

“Then why isn’t he made ready to stand before his accusers?” asked Shannon.

“No need to,” replied the troll. “He has already admitted to his guilt.”

“Who is representing this man in your court?” asked the elf.

“No one,” said Grog. “No one wants to aid in his defense.”

Shannon approached the rogue and placed her hand on his chest near his heart. She quietly spoke a few elvish words and images of Brendan’s life flashed before her eyes. A moment later she turned and faced the captain and said.

“I must speak to his accuser,” she said in a soft voice. “For this man is innocent. He hasn’t taken anything.”

“And you know all this just by touching him?” the captain asked smiling.

Shannon walked up to him and asked to bend forward. She then placed her hand gently upon his hand.

“You have a wife and four children,” she whispered.

“Anyone could have told you that,” answered the troll.

“Yes,” spoke Shannon, “but does anyone know that you wife is pregnant with your fifth?”

The troll stepped back with a surprised look on his bark like face.

“No-one knows that,” he said in an anxious tone. “I haven’t said anything to anyone yet. So how could you know?”

“The same way I know that this man here hasn’t taken anything from anyone here in this city,” answered the elf. “Now will you allow me to speak with his accuser before his sentence is carried out?”

The troll captain stared at the elf girl in astonishment, but then finally agreed and told her that the sergeant who brought her here would take her to the merchant.

“But be as quick as you can,” warned the captain. “I cannot hold off the execution for too long.”

A short time later Shannon found herself standing in front of an old troll who went by the name of Bolam. He was not as tall as the sergeant, or the captain. This troll belonged to another troll race that lived in the forests and grew to a normal six to seven feet tall, but no taller. Shannon’s eyes looked around and found a gold chalice standing on a shelf behind the merchant. Placing her right hand on the arm of the troll and pointing to the chalice with the other, she asked if she could see it. This calmed the merchant, for he seemed disturbed when the sergeant accompanied her into his shop. Again, flashes of the troll’s past sped through her mind. Quickly the smaller troll realizing what was happening, pulled his arm away, but it was already too late. Shannon had seen what she needed to see. Turning to the sergeant she said. “If you look in that basket there. At the bottom, under the cloth, you’ll find the broach that supposedly had been stolen.”

Before she could finish, the merchant ran from the room and escaped out a back door. The sergeant could not move fast enough through the small room and Bolam was out of sight before he reached the back door. Returning, he found Shannon holding the so-called stolen broach. She handed it to him and accompanied him back to the jail where the captain was waiting. She explained that the merchant had plans to rescue Brendan and then take him out of the city where he was to be sold into slavery. For the Valcorans had put a hefty price on his head. After collecting the reward, the merchant would be free to sell the broach, retire and live out his life as a rich person in his home village in the eastern forest.

When the sergeant confirmed Shannon’s story the captain ordered that Brendan be brought up from the dungeon. He then ordered the sergeant to scour the city and arrest the merchant.

“You are a lucky man to have such a friend here,” said the mountain troll as he handed the rogue back his weapons and pouch, which contained a few coins.

Brendan, squinting through his swollen eyes, smiled at Shannon and bowed.

“I thank you,” he said, “and now I shall be on my way.”

He turned to go, but a gentle hand held his arm fast and turned him around to face the elf girl.

“Not so fast. I didn’t come here by accident,” Shannon said grasping his shoulder and turning him around to face her. “I’m here because I need your help.”

“What is it you want of me?” the rogue asked.

She repeated the story of what had happened to the Home Stone and why she needed his help.

“And if I said no, what then?” answered Brendan.

“Then I will let the captain keep you here test out those gallows with your neck,” she spoke in a firm tone, leaving no mistake that she intends to leave here with him.

Rubbing his neck with his free hand, Brendan agreed to go with her.

Strapping on his sword and checking his money pouch, the door opened and Rotag stepped in from the dark and cold outside. He made his way over to where the captain was seated and in a low whisper said something to his superior.

Looking up and at the elf and her friend he said. “It looks like the merchant has left the city, but the guard house here is being watched.”

He took some time to think of what could their next move be, when Rotag broke the silence.

“If you were to stay here for the night, I might be able to make it look as if you have already left. Then the way would be clear for you to return to Laggin.”

“Why should we return to Laggin?” interrupted Brendan. “The fastest route from here would be to cross the desert and to my village where we could sail in my ship to Evermore.”

“But how can we bypass the spies that the merchant has out there?” asked Shannon.

“There I might be of some help,” answered the captain.

He then leaned over and said something to the sergeant who quickly turned and left. Then Grog called to one of the other guards to have some food and drink brought in and to prepare one of the upstairs rooms for his guests. The two were escorted a short time later after they had eaten, to a small room. To one side stood two large cots and against the other wall was a small table with two chairs. The window was heavily curtained so that the light from the candles that lit the room could not be seen from the outside. The rest of the room was bare, with no other decorations. Shannon sat down on the cot and bounced a couple of times, testing the mattress. Exhausted from the day’s events, she lay back and in no time, was asleep.