Orin The Great Ch. 05

"Orin?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Did something happen between you and Bartram?"

For a moment, the young man's face looked ashen. Very quickly, he dismissed himself and walked off toward the farmers.

Sundri was left there wondering... and festering.

Early in the afternoon, Orin and Bartram took more doses of tea. They wanted to sleep again in order to keep a better watch for later that night. Sundri kept watch, past the time the farmers left at sunset. Only when the night was in full flower did she wake them.

"Sundri, you should have a nap now." Bartram offered. "If anything happens, you most of all needs to have your senses on alert."

"I can keep myself awake."

"If you say it, I will believe it."

Bartram and Sundri were sitting close together, Orin saw. Since he was still on the unsure side over having his candle blown out by the archer, he thought he should keep his distance from both parties. This is when a pressing need made itself known.

"I need to relieve myself." He announced. "Thanks to all that tea I drank."

"Go directly behind this shack, Orin." Sundri directed him. "Do not walk out to the trees or you may disrupt all those threads I put up earlier."

"Don't forget to piss away from the shack!" Bartram kidded. "That back wall has so many holes you will probably leak inside if you went there."

"Stay behind the shack and piss away from the wall." Orin repeated. "I will be back in a moment."

With Sundri's amber magic orb lighting up the space between them, she could see the archer's face watching out toward the edge of the trees. Her gaze, however, was as cold as ice. It took Bartram a few moments to realize this.

"Don't look at me that way." The archer feared. "You look as if you want to turn me into a frog or lizard."

"Oh, I will do worse than that." The sorceress threatened. "Tell me what you did to Orin, or I will turn you into a flea that has no legs."

"Can you really do that?"

"What did you do with Orin?"

"Nothing! I did nothing!"

"What... Did... You... Do?"

Bartram counted his lucky stars that Orin chose that exact moment to return.

"There is a glow coming from the mountain." The young man said, absently. "You can see it clearly from behind the shack. Do you think it might be the demons?"

Sundri didn't answer, because she was busy looking daggers at the archer. In a huff, she started away from both men, walking toward the trees. "I must check on my threads."

"What happened, Bartram?" Orin whispered. "Why did you have to anger her?"

"She angered herself!" The archer said. "Quick, Orin, we must think of a lie to tell her before she comes back! We have to cover up what I did earlier, otherwise she might turn me into an insect and toss me in the fire!"

As the two men got busy thinking, Sundri kept striding further away. She found the first of her threads, which she followed with her senses to make sure it was intact. After a few yards, the sorceress looked to peer deeper into the copse.

It happened suddenly. In one moment, Sundri was seen leaning toward the trees. In the next instant, a ghostly white form seemed to explode out of the darkness and directly at her. Sundri raised her arms up to cast a spell, but the ghost was faster. It stuck at her middle and knocked her to the ground. Just as Orin and Bartram stood to give chase, two more ghosts burst out and pounced. Sundri was seen struggling against all three, as the pale silhouettes snatched at her arms and legs, and began pulling her aloft.

"Quickly, Orin!" Bartram cried out. "They mean to take her!"

As Orin ran, he unsheathed his sword, hoping it would be effective against the phantoms now lifting his lover. By the time the two men reached Sundri, the ghosts had pulled her squirming, ranting form as high as the treetops.

"We can't reach her, Bartram!" Orin screamed. "What if they drop her?"

"Pray that they don't!" The archer replied.

The men felt the magic strands tearing as they ran past the first of the trees. By this time, the ghosts were carrying Sundri at a faster pace, well over the trees.

"They're heading toward the fort!" Orin estimated.

"Not the fort, the mountain!"

They were moving fast through the foliage, when Bartram reached out for Orin's arm. "Not this way! There are too many obstacles here, and it is far too dark for us to navigate through them!"

"But they're taking her, Bartram!"

"I know this! We have to cut across the field and get back on the path. That is a clear walk to the fort and beyond. We have to take that route!"

"Where is she, Bartram?" Orin scoured the sky for signs of the sorceress. "I can't see her anymore!"

"It's the blasted trees." The archer said. "They're blocking our view now." He gave the young man a yank. "Come on! We have to return to the path!"

"We have to save her!" Orin demanded.

"I know. We have to go this way!"

Because Orin felt he had no choice, he capitulated.

They couldn't run on the dark path, but they hurried as fast as they were able to. When they reached the fort, them watchmen became so terrified at their clamor they nearly opened fire. Only when Orin and Bartram identified their selves did the sentries lower their bows.

The two adventurers did not stop there. They followed the narrow path around the fort and up the side of the mountain. Heaving and panting, they reached the halfway point on the slope, only to discover they'd somehow ended up before the fort. Again, Orin and his friend clambered up the side of the mountain. This time, they only reached about a third of the way before their legs gave out. When they stopped to rest, again they found they were standing half a stone's throw from the palisade.

When this same wickedness took place a third time, Orin and Bartram gave up. Like defeated men, they walked to the front gate of the fort. The guards did not trust those men were truly who they said they were, but they did allow the adventurers to sleep outside the gate.

When the sun rose and the cocks started crowing, Orin woke up. Bartram was already awake, with his knees pulled up and his head bowed.

"How are we going to climb up that mountain?" Orin wondered. "Every time we tried that, we were magically turned around and set back at the base again!"

"I don't know, Orin." Bartram admitted. "Things look hopeless."

"Not hopeless!" Orin argued. "We will find a way!"

Their voices had stirred up the guards watching from behind the wall. The doors to the fort opened, finally, allowing Nettle, Dunder and the two guards to exit.

"What took place last night?" Nettle asked. "Where is the old woman?"

"You tell them." Orin said to Bartram.

The archer told them the tale. Once the men from the fort were reassured that these were really Orin and Bartram, they let the men inside and fed them.

"We have to go, Bartram." Orin insisted. "We have to go now!"

"It's hopeless, Orin." The archer lamented. "The demons will just turn us around again, like they did three times last night. We'll never make it!"

"We will figure out another way." Orin schemed. "We won't take the path directly. We can stay a few yards away from it and travel through the brush."

"I don't know, Orin. I don't think we can do it."

"Then I will go it alone." Orin resolved, looking to the faces of the locals standing around him. All he saw were terrified men.

Orin started off by his self. At first, no man followed him. When he reached the front gate and demanded to be let out, Bartram finally grew a spine and ran after him.

They climbed the mountain for the fourth time, but on this occasion they stayed several yards away from the beaten path. Instead, they walked on awkward slopes and climbed over rocks and fallen trees. When they tired, they climbed a large boulder and sat there, making sure they weren't whisked back near the fort as they had been before.

"How do you fight against a demon?" Orin asked.

"I don't know. I've never fought one before."

"They looked like ghosts, but they must be able to change into solid beings." Orin speculated. "Otherwise how were they able to pick Sundri up and carry her?"

"I don't know!"

"I suppose we will find out when we get there." The young man's brow furrowed. "For the moment, we have to assume they are solid, and if they are, we can hurt them with our swords. Are you with me, Bartram?"

"Of course I am. I will do everything I can to save Sundri."

Soon after this, they resumed their ascent of the mountain.

Orin knew they were getting close, when the single trail they were on broke off in two different directions. In the distance, they could see one of the trails forking a second time. Each trail led off to a separate mine, the men assumed.

"Which way should we go?" Orin wondered.

"We have to be careful here." Bartram cautioned. "Keep to the edge of the trail. If we set foot on the trail, I would hate to be sent down to the fort again."

At the first split, they saw that a log had been set there, with a flattened top as if it was used for sitting. They didn't have to wait long for company, as the three wicked men they'd heard so much about suddenly appeared on that log. The men were short, reaching up to about Orin's shoulders. They had square faces with strange, large eyes and irises in black and yellow. Their jaws and bodies were also square, while their arms and legs were short. The three wicked men were sitting there placidly, with their hands on their laps.

"You've taken our friend!" Orin shouted. "We want her back!"

"The ancient woman, you mean?" One of the wicked men asked.

"Where is she?" Orin demanded.

"Be careful that you don't anger them." Bartram warned.

"All right." Orin conceded, before addressing the strange men. "Will you tell us where our friend is?"

"We will." The same demon answered.

Orin waited for more words, but they did not come. "What do you want? You must want something, so what is it?"

"We will make a riddle for you." The demon decided. "If you succeed in solving our riddle, we will give you the ancient wretch."

"She isn't a wretch." Orin mumbled. He looked at Bartram. "I hope you are good with riddles, man."

"Not riddles." The archer admitted. "I can keep you in stitches with lewd jokes, but I don't know too many riddles."

"Neither do I." Orin frowned. He called out to the wicked men. "Go ahead and tell us your riddle."

"Our names are Fred, Frod and Frood. Identify us by name and you can have the ancient woman back."

"I have to guess what name belongs to each one of you?" Orin asked.

"You have to identify us by name." The demon repeated.

Orin turned toward Bartram. "Should we try it? What if we lose? How are we going to figure out which name belongs to which demon?"

"Ask them." The archer guessed. "Maybe they will tell you?"

Orin tried this.

"No, that would make our game too easy." A demon replied. "Try again."

"Only three tries!" A second demon said. "And then the game is done!"

"Three tries?" Orin asked.

"You have two tries remaining."

"Blast and spit, Bartram!" Orin squealed. "I've already wasted one of our tries! You have to try next!"

The archer winced at first, before he took a serious, long look at the three wicked men. He pointed at them. "You are Frood, you are Frod and you are Fred."

In response, the demons stood up and shuffled around. They nearly looked to be floating over the ground as they moved back and forth. When they finally halted, they sat on the log and were as relaxed as before.

"You are wrong." A demon said. "That was your second try."

Bartram looked to Orin. "I think they are cheating. You saw how they moved around. Even if I guessed their sequence correctly, they have moved and so my guess is no longer valid."

"How do we take that into account?" Orin looked confused.

"I don't know! I can't keep this up, Orin! You go next!"

"I wonder how close we were." Orin said.

"You were not close at all." The spokesman for the three replied. "That was your third guess."

"What?" Orin called out. "Foul! That wasn't even a guess! I was speaking to my friend, not to you!"

"You asked how close you were." The demon replied.

"I did not! I told Bartram that I wondered how close we were! That was no question! That was a statement!"

"That was your third try." The demon said firmly.

"You have cheated!" Bartram cried out. "And because you cheated, we will give you a challenge you must pass. If you fail, you will tell us where you've taken Sundri!"

"That ancient woman is in our belly now." The demon sneered.

"Give her back to us!" Orin yelled.

"Wait, Orin." Bartram tried to pacify the young man. To the demons, he said, "You are in the right. You have bested us with your riddle. Will you tell us the answer to your riddle, so that we can ponder on how ingenious it was?"

One demon waved his hands forward. A ghost that looked exactly like Orin was created. The ghost-Orin began speaking.

"Hmm, how can I identify these three demons?" The ghost asked. "I know! The riddle is to identify the demons. I must make them identify themselves! I say, sit on that long in this exact order. Fred goes first, and Frod goes second, and Frood goes last. There, now I know which is which! I have guessed the riddle!"

The moment the Orin-ghost stopped speaking, it vanished.

"Very good." Bartram complimented. "That was an excellent solution to your riddle. I would have never guessed that in a thousand years! But, by the same token, we must be allowed to present a challenge to the three of you. If you are so confident in your skill at guessing, you would do good to accept our challenge."

The three demons began to confer among their selves.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Orin whispered to his friend.

"I think I do." Bartram answered. "Demons and witches like to twist the meanings of words around. If this works, you are to follow my lead."

After a short discussion, Fred called out. "We will accept your challenge."

Bartram took a deep breath. "All right. I can prove that I am a better archer than Fred. I challenge Fred to prove me wrong. Do you have a bow and arrows?"

The demon hopped off the log. In a flash of its arms, it held the correct equipment in its hands. "Do you think we cannot pull a string as well as a man? I accept!"

Without saying another word, Bartram pulled an arrow and shot Fred in the chest with it. The demon toppled over, dropping its weapon. For good measure, Bartram sent two additional arrows into its body. The demon crumpled to the ground, while its two fellows jumped from the log.

"You have cheated!" Frod gnashed his teeth.

"What is the challenge in that?" Frood questioned.

"It is simple, really." Bartram explained. "I can now prove that I am a better archer than Fred, because Fred is now dead. Do you see how that works? It is a lot like when you twisted around asking Orin to identify all three of you."

The two remaining demons looked ready to argue, but Orin cut them off.

"I can prove I am a better swordsman than Frod." The young man dared. "Do you accept my challenge?"

Frod caused a short sword to appear in his grip. "I accept!"

Orin and the demon ran at each other. The demon held his weapon up high and brought his arm down in a fast streak. Orin dodged the blow and lashed out a return strike, only to see the faster demon parry it away. They clashed swords again, with Orin soon understanding that the demon was a formidable opponent. He also began to see how he might twist his words around in the same way Bartram had.

"Wait!" Orin stepped out of the shorter demon's range. "I am already a better swordsman than you are! This is because I am a man, and you are a demon! You can never be a better swordsman than I am, because you can never be a man!"

The demon paused to follow that line of reasoning. This proved to be its undoing, as Orin gave it such a blow as to cut the demon's head off. The headless body fell back into the dirt with a thud.

"There, I have proven this twice!" Orin told the last demon. "I have bested your fellow both in skill and in wordplay!"

The last demon scrutinized its two fallen kin. It gave the adventurers such a wicked look that caused them both nearly to flee in fright.

"There were three of you, and only two of us." Bartram said shakily. "There is no one left among us to challenge you, Frood. You must release our woman so that she can give you a challenge. That is the fairest way this can be done."

Frood made another ghastly face, this one causing Orin and the archer to both take strides back.

"That's the trick, isn't it?" Bartram asked. "You can change things around when you are asking the riddles, but you don't like it when we turn the tables on you! Release our woman and see what challenge she has for you!"

"You can have your ancient one!" Frood spat out. He waved his arm and cast a bolt of white light.

Orin and Bartram both jumped, as they feared the bolt was aimed at one of them. Instead, the bolt went to strike a thick tree that stood only a few yards away. Right after, the demon turned and hopped away from the log and the men. It ran down the path toward one of the mines, but after several short strides, the demon was seen to disappear into empty air.

"What lousy aim that creature had." Orin spoke up, once he was back on his feet. "He wasn't even close to hitting either of us."

"No, he wasn't." Bartram agreed. He took a few steps toward the struck tree, but halted when he saw he would have to cross the cursed path. Taking a chance, the archer darted across to reach the tree. "Why would that demon attack this tree, and not one of us?"

"Because he has lousy aim." Orin reiterated.

"That can't be the reason." Bartram refuted. "He could have easily aimed at us, but he didn't."

When Orin saw the archer begin to examine the tree more closely, he said, "Leave that alone. We have to find Sundri!"

"Orin, you don't know much about magic." The archer replied. "Perhaps we've found her already."

"What do you mean?" Orin asked.

Bartram was still examining the tree. He glanced around, finding a large rock a short distance away. After picking the rock up, he began pounding against the tree with it.

"Bartram, what are you doing?" Orin questioned.

"It's hollow!" The archer cried out.

Only when Bartram had unsheathed his sword, and was hacking away at the tree trunk, did Orin figure out where Sundri was hidden.

Thankfully, the sorceress was alive when they got to her. It wasn't an easy task, however, as they first chopped into the tree with their swords, and later chipped at it with their daggers. The men ran back by a few strides, when Bartram's dagger poked into the hole they'd created, puncturing some hidden sack and causing it to spill out a thick and sickly orange sap. The last of the sap bubbled out, as if air was eager to invade into the hole within the tree.

"Sundri, are you in there?" Bartram called out.

"Yes, I am!" The mage's faint voice was heard.

"Can you get yourself out?"

"I cannot!"

The archer looked perturbed. "Why not?"

Orin could not catch much of her answer, save that the tree was in some way ensorcelled.

"Can you breath now?" Bartram asked.

"Yes, I can!"

"Blast and spit." The archer grumbled. "Orin, see if you can find an axe or two. We will be needing them."

While Bartram set out widening the hole in the tree, Orin cautiously wandered about in search of the needed tool. At the foot of a mine, he discovered a sack of hammers and chisels, and also Sundri's sandals sitting on the ground. Hoping the demon would not come sneaking up on him, the young man hurried back. He emptied the sack out for Bartram to see its contents.

The archer was sweaty and panting, but he had managed to open up the tree far enough for Sundri's lips and mouth to be seen. "Those tools will not do, Orin. One of us must head back to the fort. We need more men to finish this job!"