CHAPTER 10

Aenarion concentrated on the figure moving before him.  The rest of the group was locked in mortal combat and he knew he would only have one chance to make this shot.  The Orc was huge and powerful probably a Boss.  He steadied his hand and just as he let loose the arrow an Orc lunged at him.  As he used his bow to ward off the blow, he heard a scream of pain come from across the room; unfortunately, though, it sounded surprisingly human.  "Damn!  Not again," thought Aenarion, as he dispatched the closest Orc, "I will definitely have some explaining to do later."

Aenarion had just finished applying the last of his healing salve to Gilchrist, whilst explaining that the Sure Fire Bow only increases his chances and of hitting the target isn't perfect.  When Garrick motioned them to continue, they walked down the dark corridor.  Shadows danced along the walls as the flames from the lantern flickered taunting them to go further into the depths of the dungeon.  "Damn you Aenarion!" Enrico could hold it no longer.  "I'm going to take that bow and shove it down your throat."  "Think twice before making such boasts," Aenarion said coldly.  "Besides who was it who set off the alarm, looking for more booty to spend at Lugis & Salvos or whatever the name of that place is."  "It is no boast," Enrico returned the Elf's glare.  "I'm sure Gilchrist would be more than willing to help me, and anyone else who has felt the shaft of your arrow going into their backside."  Just then Gilchrist stated flatly, "We just have to hope that it won't happen again."  "That can be arranged," Enrico said under his breath, not realizing that the Elf, with his keen hearing, had heard every word.

They walked on, part of the corridor had collapsed many years earlier and there was only enough room to walk single file.  Finally, the corridor widened and Garrick came to a rusty door.  With much effort they managed to push it open.  Inside was a big empty chamber.  Aenarion could feel a presence in this room and felt that they were close to finding the tomb of the ancient hero they had come to revive and was glad he hadn't had to use any of the power of the crystal that the Ice Queen had given him to revive Heinrich, for he knew it would require a powerful spell with far more power than he could master on his own.

They stepped into the room and began searching it for clues to the location of the Tomb, signs of recent passage, and, of course, gold.  Aenarion was checking the far wall when he tripped over something.  He fell forward, slamming hard into the wall.  But the section of wall under his left hand gave way and his arm went through.  He heard the grating of metal on metal and looked up just as the guillotine came crashing down.  The pain was nothing like he had ever felt before.  He screamed in agony, it felt as if all the nerve endings in his hand were on fire.  He opened his eyes and to his horror, he saw a hand lying next to him in a pool of blood.  He quickly looked at his wrist and screamed again as he realized that it was his hand he had been staring at.  He cursed himself for showing weakness and gritted his teeth against the pain.  Blood was pouring out of his arm.  He tried to cast a healing spell but the pain clouded his mind and he collapsed back to the floor.  Suddenly, Lyndryell was standing over him wrapping his arm with bandages.  Aenarion sat back up and went over the words to the spell one more time in his mind and was able to successfully cast it.  He felt the magic course through him.  The pain immediately lessened and he was able, with Lyndryell's help, to stand.  "Thank you my brother," he smiled at Lyndryell "that is much better."

He looked over to where his hand had been and saw Garrick lifting it gently off the blood-soaked floor.  Then, the strangest thing happened.  Garrick proceeded to look around cautiously as if to see if anyone was watching him, put it in a leather pouch, and appeared to be placing it in his pack.  But upon meeting Aenarion's gaze, he quickly handed it to him and proceeded to explain that he had heard of some accomplished healers who could reattach severed limbs.  Aenarion shook his head, his mind must be playing tricks on him.  What reason would Garrick have to keep his hand.  He began thinking about the events that had just happened  He had tripped over something, but what?  He looked around the room but found nothing.  He began thinking about his earlier conversation with Enrico.  Had he tripped him in spite.  He couldn't have possibly known about the trap, but it does not matter.  The end result is still the same.  He thought back to the three weeks he had spent at Drizzt's School of Archery, Rangership, and Herb Lore.  The master had warned him about how others in a group could turn on you in a moments notice for the tiniest little mistakes.  He would think on this matter further before he came to any rash conclusions.

Suddenly, he was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of feet coming from the corridor.  Aenarion quickly drew his sword with his one good hand as 6 large Orcs charged into the room.  Garrick took the first one out immediately, but was pushed back by the surge of the ones behind it.  Aenarion braced himself for the onslaught to come.  Lyndryell stood next to him, a grim determination on his face.  Enrico, Garrick, and Gilchrist headed off the first three, the other two rushed past.

The Orc Shaman stared at them in disgust.  "You tak da gimp.  I tak da big hared un."  "The gimp," Aenarion screamed as he charged the Orc, hacking and slashing in all directions with his good hand.  The Orc was totally overwhelmed at the ferocity of the attack.  He tried to defend himself but went down in a flurry of blows.  Aenarion turned and heard the Shaman uttering some arcane words that he knew were the beginnings of a powerful spell, but he could do nothing to stop it.  The Shaman pointed his finger at Lyndryell and a cloud of mist appeared above his head, it took the form of a giant foot, and smashed down into Lyndryell with such force that it knocked Aenarion off his feet.  Aenarion struggled to his feet and saw Lyndryell's body lying limp on the floor.  He tried to form the words of a healing spell in his mind, but he was so tired, the pain was coming back, his arm ached, and he was losing more blood.  He just wanted to lay back down.  Trying to clear the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him, and knowing how urgently his friends needed him, he concentrated, further opening his mind to all the colors in the spectrum of magic.  The words flowed across his tongue and the healing power surged forth.  He saw Lyndryell stir as the power coursed through him.  Aenarion jumped toward the Shaman to keep him off of Lyndryell until he could recover his strength, but the exhausted, one-handed Aenarion was no match for the powerful Shaman.  Lyndryell got up and fought valiantly darting steel left and right, but could not bring the Shaman down.  Aenarion felt the Shaman start another spell and knew that Lyndryell and he were doomed.  Suddenly, from nowhere came a flash of steel and the Shaman's head rolled to the floor.  Garrick kicked the Shaman's body to the side and rushed to the Elves to see if they were okay.  Lyndryell shook him off and turned to see Enrico and Gilchrist finish off the Orcs they were fighting.  When Garrick got to Aenarion, it was just in time to see him collapse to the floor in exhaustion.

Aenarion walked out of the healer's surgery flexing his newly reattached hand.  His trusty dog, Chay, was waiting for him  as Aenarion walked through the streets of Barlow.  He thought back to when he'd rescued Chay from the streets of another town a few months ago.  The dog was a flea bitten cur and a storekeeper was in the middle of kicking him into the street when Aenarion spotted him.

Aenarion being a Ranger and a lover of all animals could not stand by and watch one being abused.  He marched arrogantly over to the storekeeper, who was drawing his foot back to kick the dog again and said, "Touch that dog again and I'll personally cut your legs off."

"What business is it of yours if I do anything to a dog that keeps hanging around my store," he said pointing to his butcher shop.  "I'll make it my business.  Now you go along with yours; but first bring out a cut of your finest meat for this dog in payment of the trouble that you've caused me."  The butcher looked startled and then sputtered, "I'll do no such thing."  "Aenarion's hand reached for his sword.  The butcher turned pale as he tried to back away.  The butcher's wife, who had been listening, rushed out with one of the finest cuts of meat Aenarion had ever seen and gave it to him.  Aenarion smiled, "Thank you good lady and the dog thanks you for your kindness."  Aenarion turned to leave and heard the butcher mumble under his breath, "Good riddance to you."  Aenarion chose to ignore him.

He went a short distance away from the shop and started to feed the dog.  As the dog was eating, Aenarion start-ed walking back toward his lodgings thinking, "I've done my good deed, helping that wretched dog," and then thought no more about it.

When he reached the Blue Mermaid Inn, he heard a dog barking behind him, and he turned.  There was that mangy mutt again.  Before Aenarion could do anything, the dog rushed past him inside the inn and as Aenarion rushed in behind the dog, he found the innkeeper in the act of kicking the mutt.  Aenarion said threateningly, "I wouldn't do that again if I were you."  The innkeeper glared at him, he hated dealing with this arrogant Elf.  "Get this cur out of my Inn."  Aenarion glared back with a deadly gleam in his eyes.  "You'd better watch what you call my dog."  The innkeeper pursed his lips, but prudently kept his mouth shut.

"Come my good man, take my dog to the back room, he needs a bath."  The innkeeper glared, but said no more as Aenarion slipped him an extra coin.  "Also, Aenarion continued, fetch me an ale from the taproom, I'm parched."  The innkeeper hurried away so he wouldn't have to deal with that Elf anymore.  Aenarion smiled at the memory.  Now he'd had the dog for a few months and the only problem with owning him that his appetite is so large that Aenarion's living expenses had doubled.

Aenarion spotted Enrico amidst a crowd of adoring peasants.  His regal bearing and easy ways made him a favorite with the crowd.  Aenarion had to laugh.  "Knowing Enrico, he'll probably have a new title by the time he's left town.

Suddenly, Aenarion's attention was diverted by the sound of a dog yelping pitifully.  Ahead in the road, a gang of street thugs were terrorizing the poor mutt by tying the dog to a post and taking turns throwing rocks at it.  Aenarion became angry at the cruelty being displayed and rushed toward the bullies.  His faithful dog went and hid behind the nearest rain barrel as Aenarion confronted the bullies.  Aenarion grabbed the nearest bully and threw him into the barrel.  Then, he grabbed the next one and threw him into the others, knocking them all down.

Aenarion snarled at them, "Don't ever let me catch you treating an animal this way ever again, otherwise you may not live to see another day."  His fingers twitched next to his sword.  The bullies ran for their lives.  Chay, his faithful dog came from behind the barrel, shaking his wet fur, spraying everyone around him with water.  He'd gotten pretty wet when Aenarion dumped the bully into the almost full barrel.

Aenarion knelt down next to the terrified animal checking to see if there were any injuries, there didn't seem to be any, but the dog was malnourished.  He opened his pack and fed the dog some of his provisions.  The dog gobbled the food down and looked up expectantly for more.  Aenarion felt a sudden wave of dismay pass through him as he realized that now he was the owner of two pet dogs.