Ian! Stop teasing your sister’, Kenna called out. ‘He keeps throwing deer droppings at me Mother.’ ‘It’s just dirt clods you big toad!’ whined Ian from behind a nearby clump of tall grass. Sorah peeked over the buckboards of the wagon and glared at Ian. ‘I didn’t know dirt could be so green and round. Oh, and the lovely smell too!’ she sarcastically squealed. Another dung missile whizzed past her face.

Kenna leaned into Hemmer, ‘Honey, it’s your turn.’

Hemmer gave out an exaggerated exhale glancing over his shoulder at the deer pellets spread about then turned towards Ian. ‘That’s enough of that son.’ Ian rolled his eyes and surrendered, ‘Yes, Father.’

Sorah sank into the large pile of furs with a smug grin and started tossing the dung overboard.

It was dusk and the fading light of day cast long shadows across the road.

Kenna hummed a soothing lullaby cradling Kip in her arms. As she did the baby cooed sleepily and made the motions of nursing.

Ian angled off and sprinted through the sparse forest dodging branches and leaping over rocks. He hated riding in the bumpy old wagon and it was slow. He preferred to play along side whenever they went with Father on the trade routes.

Hemmer looked over the two roans pulling the wagon and focused up ahead. ‘It shouldn’t be much longer, that large boulder field on the right means we’re almost…’

His speech faded from the air as he reined in the horses to stop the wagon.

‘What’s wrong?’ Kenna whispered without looking at him. Sorah stopped what she was doing and raised up to look over the wooden bench at the front of the wagon.

Hemmer stared at the road just ahead. As a scout for the Monarchy he had learned to notice the earth and all that had transacted upon it as if reading a book. There had been a struggle here not more than an hour ago. Travelers had been ambushed and lives lost. There had been at least a dozen attackers. He translated all the scuffs and marks play by play. He then strained his ears for any betraying sounds that would give warning. Kenna breathing. Horse tails swishing at flies. Creaking of leather straps as both horses settle into a comfortable stance. A warm breeze teasing the leaves of the wood, rustling. Far off a bird calling out. It was odd sounding, he didn’t recognize it. It was the confirmation he needed, trouble was still here. More silence.

‘MAAAA-AAAAMMMMMMM! DAAAA-AAAADDDDDD!’ yelled Ian at the top of his lungs. He was somewhere up ahead of them and to the left. Ian was good at keeping pace with the wagon even out of sight, but he didn’t know they had stopped.

Hemmer let a curse of fear cross his lips. He simultaneously tossed the reins to Kenna and reached for his rifle. Leaping from his seat he ordered Kenna, ‘Turn back and don’t stop for anyone! I’ll get Ian and find you. Now Go!’

The reins cracked like lightening across the backs of roans and the wagon lurched into a surprising speed. The rude awakening was all it took; Kip began to scream.

Pffft! Pfffft! Arrows streaked past the wagon as it raced back down the canyon. Sorah clutched the baby as Kenna whipped the steeds harder.

Hemmer heard the arrows release as he ran for the trees. Confusion billowed in his mind. He felt his ability to help his family spread thin like ice not strong enough to stand on. Horses galloped from the woods carrying cloaked riders after the wagon. Ahead of him, somewhere, was his son. I can’t catch the wagon on foot’ help Ian.

Hemmer chose a path that took him in the direction he last heard Ian call out from. It was a tactically awful choice and would lead him sidelong to the archers, making him an easy mark, but it was the shortest and quickest route. Blood and adrenaline surged through his body and his muscles pumped him forward. He could hear shouting from a bank of trees far to his right. The archers quickly re-tasked themselves on the newly found target.

Hemmer could now hear the smack of arrows against trees behind him. He felt his lungs burn dry and swallowed hard against the lump. Pffft! Thunk! An arrow sunk solidly into the woody flesh of the tree right in front of him. Hemmer countered low to keep from running into it. They know the distance. Hemmer deviated to his left lengthening the gap from the assailants another 15 feet. The strikes were behind him again and he pushed harder over the soft forest floor. He crested a small hill and caught a glimpse of someone to his left. He was trained for this. In one fluid motion Hemmer went prone and raised his rifle, cocking the hammer, bearing the sight down on’ ‘Ian!

Hemmer got up and ran towards him. ‘Hide!’ he whispered loudly. Ian stood motionless and wide eyed at his father. Fear flowed from his sons eyes wetting his cheeks. Hemmer lowered his gaze on his son, down at the piss soaked crotch of his pants. Son? The gleam of a long blade winked as it slid out from behind the tree to kiss the innocents’ throat. The cloaked figure leaned out from the refuge enough to make eye contact with Hemmer.

‘Aleil Sue Evanne Aru Din!’ the bandit demanded. Hemmer recognized the language but didn’t speak it. He remained in his stance, rifle readied. Again the bandit snarled, ‘ALEIL SUE EVANNE ARU DIN!’ This time the blade pressed hard into Ian’s soft neck choking him. His mouth gaped instinctively from the pressure.

Hemmer got the message.

He slowly lowered his rifle to the ground and held his hands up, palms out towards his sons’ captor.

The bandit sneered and shook his head in a disapproving fashion then began to laugh coldly, victoriously. Hemmer knew, he just knew what it meant and the thought panged his inner soul. Hemmer took a step forward and pushed at the air between them, hands out, in a fruitless motion to stop it.

‘Daddy…help me!’ whimpered Ian.

It was too late.

The bandit whipped the blade back from Ian’s neck, opening it up wide and rushed at Hemmer. Ian dropped, blood gurgling crimson foam from his throat. Hemmer screamed at the painful sight and rage was born. The killer he was trained for possessed him instinctively. The cloaked man closed the ground between them in a flash. Hemmer fell to his rifle just in time.

Click. Click. BOOM!

The murderer caught the full wrath of fire and smoke in his face, blowing him back. Blood and gore erupted from the back of his cowl throwing him back onto the ground, his body convulsing. Hemmer leapt, rushing to his fallen son’s body and cradled it, pulling it close to his chest. Blood soaked his sleeves and tunic as he rocked back and forth in a false motion of comfort. Ian was dead. Hemmer sobbed his name over and over. No! Ian! Ian! The moment was a swirl of confusion. This didn’t just happen! How can I fix this? No! Somebody help me! Please God help me! He begged with his deity for any help. There was no reply. He then glanced over at the other body lying nearby. He could clearly see what was left of the butchers face. The dark, charcoal skin, the almond shaped eyes, the slender, pointed ears. It was an elf. ‘Drow…’ Hemmer whispered aloud. The word alone tasted bitter in his mouth. His mind raced in all directions. ‘What are drow doing this far South?’ He had heard reports in the past, but never in his life encountered one let alone an entire patrol.

A branch snapped breaking Hemmers concentration.

Others were coming. Hemmer laid Ian down and kissed him goodbye. He then reached for his weapon and snuck off, reloading silently as he faded into the trees.

‘Cey Lun Aneil?’ exclaimed the tallest of the four elves in a loud whisper as the small group stared at the scene.

Hemmer quietly waited for two of them to line up.

Fire exploded from the thicket and echoed like thunder. Chunks of blood erupted from the elf’s head, tracing the path of the lead slug into next bandit. Both men collapsed to the ground in a slump. The other two wheeled back, swords already drawn.

The plume of smoke betrayed Hemmer and he knew it. Hemmer burst from the bush in a howling rage. He charged, swinging his rifle at the closest elf roaring a battle cry. The drow parried and tried to block with his blade. It was no match. The butt of Hemmer’s rifle carried through and smashed into the elf’s head squarely ending in a sloshy crunch. The drows’ eyes rolled and his body buckled from the impact. The other elf took the opportunity and lunged in from behind. Hemmer dodged, but was too late. The fine elven blade skipped across his ribs, slicing to the bone. Hemmer rounded, placing his good side forward. He swung at the elf, feeling the wound in his side separate. Hemmer winced at the pain, foiling his attack. The drow bandit stepped aside easily and faked a high drive. Hemmer tried to block and the elf swung in low instead. Hemmer caught the point in his belly and felt it press through him. The blade slid in deep and Hemmer lost his breath. Spasms of lightening streaked in his body as the foreign object burrowed deeper. The drow slowly stood up and placed one hand on Hemmer’s shoulder. He glared into his eyes with sadistic satisfaction and slowly twisted the blade as he pulled on the hilt. It came slowly, making a nasty sucking sound. Hemmer caved to his knees, gripping his stomach.

The elf turned and whistled out, bird-like. Soon others appeared and Hemmer felt the kicking blows come from all sides. The raiders cursed and spit in his face. Hemmer felt a darkness sweep over him and everything started to go black. ‘Kenna! Please God, keep her safe’’

Hemmer awoke lying next to the large rear wheels of his wagon. His vision was a blurry kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. He closed his eyes for a bit and reopened them. He could barely make out the shape of two people lying with him, but that was all. Voices were behind them and he tried to discern the words. He couldn’t make sense of it. Hemmer blinked the dirt with his eyes again. He focused hard and his vision cleared into a nightmare. He was met with the sullen empty faces of Ian and Sorah staring back. Their lifeless bodies were lined up next to his. He quickly shut his eyes and mix of nausea and pain overwhelmed him. ‘Let it end… let me die.’ His head was swimming between consciousness and memory. The rotten taste of his own bile burned in the back of his throat. He impulsively reached for his belly, the warm muddy mix of earth and gore clung in a clump to his wounds. Then the wagon creaked next to him and someone climbed off the back to stand next to the row of bodies. The elf pulled tight on the drawstrings around his breeches and equipped his belt and sword and walked off. Hemmer appeared to be dead, or so they thought. Soon another came walking up and climbed into the back of the wagon. Hemmer could hear him disrobing.

Frenzy kindled inside Hemmer like a caged monster as he became aware of the situation. Hateful rage fueled a new strength from deep within. He reached up and gripped one of the wheels spokes and slowly pulled himself up. Coming to his feet he carefully peered over the buckboard at the horror before him. Kenna lay stripped, bound and beaten on the pile of furs. Her blood soaked hair and limp body clung to this world by a thread. The thug was preparing himself and had laid his scabbard right in front of where Hemmer now stood. Hemmer reached down and fingered the hilt slowly pulling the blade out. He was weak and unsteady, but a demon was about to be unleashed. Raising the sword high over his head he howled out, increasing his strength. The steel fang sunk into the animals back easily. The bandit arched and let out a searing scream. Hemmer pushed again, harder until the point protruded from the elf’s chest. Cries arose from the nearby camp and Hemmer felt the sting of an arrow dig into his back. He pushed the defiler’s body off Kenna and looked in her face. She didn’t look back. She was gone. Another arrow burrowed into Hemmers’ shoulder and his muscle spasmed and locked up tight. He slipped to the earth and closed his eyes. He felt the last bit of his life being tugged on. A feverish flash of complete loss washed over him. Everything important to him had been stolen. He had nothing left and wished for a swift death. In his final moments it dawned on him he didn’t know where Kip was?

It was too late’ his time had come.

Hemmer’s spirit floated into the Ether. He immediately felt orientation to up and down, but gravity had no place here. Hemmers’ soul hovered and glanced around. The fog was muted in hues of white and gray. Others appeared and disappeared here and there in the mist. Hemmer eyed something intriguing and familiar. He began to make out fuzzy shapes and objects that he knew. It was his wagon. His wagon was here’ or rather it was there. He moved sluggishly toward it and could see it as though looking through a sheet of ice. Hemmer melted through the wagon, passing to the other side. There was a curtain hung here, suspended. An eternity passed before the decision came to him. Hemmer drew it back. The action was symbolic of his acceptance to return. Hemmers’ soul made the voyage and reunited with his body.

The calling of the healers’ spell had worked. Hemmer felt the rain wash over him as he looked up into the gentle face of the man kneeling above him. ‘My name is Olio’, said the sage. ‘You have been brought back from the dead and I’m here to help. We are in danger and need to leave this place. I will explain everything later. Can you walk?’ Hemmer felt better than he should have. The old man had harnessed the most powerful healing rituals in Hemmers behalf and it showed. The hermit cupped his elbow and pulled him up. Hemmer looked around. The area was deserted save only the wagon with the broken axle.

Hemmer gave a questioning glance at the stranger. “As I said, I will explain it all later, we must go before we are spotted. Hemmer nodded and they quickly disappeared into the dark, wet night.

Hemmer awoke in his cell and immediately flew into a rage. He hated these dreams and the loss of his family recurred more than any other. Hemmer let out a howl of lamentation. ‘Arrrrrgh! God damn those elves! Damn each and every one of them to depths of Hell!’ he wailed.

When Hemmer calmed enough to open his eyes again he was met with the shocked stares of all the villagers within earshot. The elves just stood there and stared at him.