The Godling Chronicles 02 - Of Gods And Elves by Brian D. Anderson Page B

“Wait here.”
With that, he disappeared into the brush.
    “ I'm hoping for merchants,” said Maybell,
rubbing her arms. “We can barter for a place by a fire.”
    Millet nodded in agreement.
    By the time Malstisos returned, the snow was coming down
in earnest. “Merchants,” he announced. “Ten wagons
strong. And something else...” His face wore a strange
expression.
    “ What is it?” asked Millet.
    “ There are elves among them. I didn't notice their
presence until I was nearly upon them, but there is no mistake.”
    “ What difference does that make?” asked
Jacob. “At least you don't have to hide.”
    “ You don't understand,” said Malstisos. “In
the west, there are places we have dealings with humans. But as far
as I know, no such alliances exist here.”
    “ Did they know you were there?” asked
Millet.
    “ I don't think so. But I cannot be certain.”
    “ What should we do?” asked Maybell.
    Malstisos shrugged. “What choice do we have?
Winter has come early, and we are not prepared for this type of
weather. If we don't seek shelter we will freeze to death.”
    Millet sighed heavily and urged his horse forward. The
caravan was camped a quarter of a mile away in a large clearing on
the north side of the road. Several large canvas tents stood in a
semi-circle, and a half dozen cooking fires flickered in the center.
At least three dozen men and women, wrapped in thick coats, were busy
preparing the evening meal. As they came closer, two cloaked figures
walked towards them. They were tall, lean, and wrapped in heavy wool
blankets.
    “ Elves,” said Malstisos under his breath,
and looked to Jacob. “Do not speak until we know why they are
here.”
    Jacob scowled. “I'm not stupid.”
    “ I did not say you were.” The elf turned his
attention to his approaching kin. He jumped down from his horse and
raised his right hand in greeting. The other two elves returned the
gesture.
    “ Greetings brother,” said the elf on the
left. His voice was deep and rough, unlike the elf voices Millet and
Maybell had heard before. “I am Grentos and this is Vadnaltis.”
    Malstisos took a step forward. “Greetings.”
    The two pushed back the blankets from her heads,
revealing their features. Both had honey blond hair, pulled tight in
a long braid that disappeared into the folds of the wool. Their skin
was ivory pale and flawless.
    “ I see you are from the Northwestern Steppes,”
remarked Malstisos. “I have not seen those of your tribe in
many years. I am Malstisos of the Finsoulos clan. What brings you
here?”
    “ It has been long since we have had dealings with
our southern kin,” said Grentos. “What brings us to this
frozen land is a discussion to be had over a hot meal and good wine.
You must be near death in this frigid cold.”
    “ We were hoping to take shelter with the caravan,”
admitted Malstisos. “But I did not expect to find elves among
humans.”
    “ Nor did we expect to see the same.” Grentos
smiled broadly. “But you need not fear. The humans here are
from the shores of the Abyss. Elves are not unknown to them, nor do
they fear us. A tent has been erected to shelter the horses near the
tree line. Vadnaltis will show you the way. I'll prepare a meal and a
place for you and your friends to rest.”
    Malstisos bowed low. “I thank you.” He
motioned for the others to dismount. They followed Vadnaltis around
the outskirts of the camp to the horse tent. Two boys sat next to a
fire near the entrance. They sprang to their feet and took their
mounts. Millet gave both boys a copper and their eyes lit up.
    “ I promise they'll be well tended sir,” said
the older boy, a dark haired, scraggly youth, barely eleven years
old.
    Once they removed their packs, Vadnaltis led them
through the heart of the camp to the far end of a large, red tent.
Smoke rose from a small opening at the top. A few people had turned
to see the newcomers, but most ignored them. Vadnaltis held open the
tent