Vognar several months earlier…Part 3

The brush and scrub of the Mierani forest cut and scraped the big Ulfen man hunched over as far as he could without crushing his unconscious elven passenger. His horses breathing more labored than normal due to the poisoned bolt in the mares rear rump.

The venomous dark elven darts meant for Vognar missed him, but one struck exhausted mount. Collapsing to the ground in a heap the horse toppled falling to the ground unconscious. The passengers were flung wide of the mount, down a ravine side, to a stream bank below. Cold muddy but alive the young Ulfen warrior got up and spotted a cave up stream behind a cascading waterfall about hundred yards ahead.

Checking on the elf, she appeared to not have regained consciousness during the fall and her wound would need seeing too soon if she were to survive.

If his instincts about the dark elves where correct, they would be excellent trackers like the surface ones, they needed to hide, heal, pray that they passed this area bye. Then he could head for the coast and then north with his elven prize. An elven witness, as both a prisoner and prize, would make him renown among his kin.

“If I survive” chuckling quietly and ironically to himself.

Drawing his fathers huge two handed sword the Ulfen warrior strode cautiously in knee deep cold water of the stream and under the waterfall, into the cave that was deeper than it originally looked from the outside.

Curving in for some twenty paces to the left and opened up larger area. To the right another smaller tunnel where one would have to crawl on all fours to proceed further inside seemed to go for farther than the human could see.

Something stirred to the left and growled annoyed, at its rest being disturbed, Vognar froze as something large and brown rolled over and yawned. A huge brown bear lay resting in the left cave, apparently getting a jump on its winters nap.

Cursing himself a fool he tried to retreat out of the cave but the she bear woke rolling up on all fours with speed that belied its large girth, revealing three small cubs, who now cried out at having their breakfast interrupted. The momma bear roared with rage and Vognar flew from the cave, not before slipping on the mossy rocks to fall into the stream he left earlier face first.

Vognar managed to hold on to his sword thankfully. He jumped up and spun around as the angry bear emerged from the waterfall-covered cave, angrily striding towards the soaked Ulfen warrior.

“Lower your weapon, your head and step back slowly human, on your life” a weak feminine voice spoke behind him.

Looking to his left, the elf maid knelt weakly on the ground leaning against the bank. “Do it or she will kill us both”, she hissed with as much energy as she could.

Although against his nature, Vognar did as he was instructed. As he did the wounded elf began to speak soft soothing tones to the mother bear in a language the Ulfen did not understand, for it was not the common tongue or the language of the elves, ‘some other magic perhaps’, he wondered.

The she-bear roared at the two for some time but eventually it calmed to a grumpy growl, only wanting to protect her young and drive out intruders. The mother bear did not want to fight and leave its cubs unattended.

“Now … open you pack and toss her the food in it”, Elordria stated as even toned as possible.

“Are you INSANE that is all the food we have” the young human, scolded the elf woman, to which the bear roared loudly at the sudden movement by the large man who froze and looked at his feat again.

“Please do not make any sudden movements or yell” the elf said quietly still keeping her tone lilting and sweet towards the bear, but clearly talking thru her teeth at the human. “Just do it”.

Annoyed but in no position to argue with a bear that weighed nearly a thousand stones, Vognar pulled out some meats, cheeses and breads he had packed for the long crossing. Tossing them on the riverbank, the brown beast’s sensitive sense of smell and hunger got the better of her and she began to eat. After all the food was gone, the bear satisfied the pair meant no threat, had calmed down to heavy sighs and lumbered back into her cave to tend her young.

The odd pair both breathed a sigh of relief. “How did you do that”? “What language was that”? Vognar said turning on her his curiosity getting the best of him.

Elordria swooned from the energy used to calm the bear, her wound and poison, “sSstupid human, it’s amazing you have survived this long”, and she began to loose consciousness.

Running to catch her he slapped her face to trying to keep her awake, Vognar pressed, “Which way is the sea? Where are your people”?

Her eyes, rolling back now head lolling about, opened one last time, “You will need more food to get in there …” eying the cave, slipping back into black oblivion.

Piecing together a plan Vognar laid the maiden down and covered her in his fur cloak. Removing the sleep dart from the horse and rousing the animal he pointed the horse in a direction and smacking its wounded rump so that it would run on for miles. Hopefully leading pursuers off after he animal. Then he cleared the trail as best as he could of their decent into the ravine.

Although not particularly wise Vognar was smart and new how to fish and hunt. By midday he had speared a half dozen salmon from the river down stream using the water to travel hiding his scent and tracks. Living on the edge of the cold north his father had taught him many such lessons on how to survive.

Using the fish to bribe the bear, he now called ‘Norga’, into the letting them stay in the smaller cave to the right. Able to leave and enter as long as he had food for his new land liege, of course not without receiving a customary growl from the surly mother bear each time he passed the entrance reminding him that he was a guest at her good graces.

Removing her dart, cleaning the wound, Vognar made a low fire to warm them both as he tended to the noble elf girl for three days, she lay unconscious and feverish.

With a start in the low light Elordria woke unsure of her surroundings a huge human barely dressed save his leather breeches reclined by a dim fire. The stench of him, wet bear, moist earth and fish assaulted her nostrils, as did her aching wound and ringing head.

“By the gods what did you do to me”, the elven girl croaked, weakly trying to sit up, she noticed her wrapped chest wound, made from his shirt. He used layers of his own clothes used to keep her warm.

Vognar just stared at her popping some cooked trout in his mouth and chewed deliberately. She gazed at the young man who stared at her so intently, barely twenty winters old, but so many scars covering his body for one so young she mused. He had to recline in the low, dark, cave where she could actually sit up and not hit her head. Easily as big as the war leader, Vognar accompanied at the ruins, he was covered in muscles well defined from hard work or from raiding peaceful elven towns she thought sourly.

Motioning to the food on the fire Vognar wondered how he would get her to be his prisoner. She although looked younger than him was most certainly his senior by sixty years and crafty. His mother had told him that the long lived elves where once fey and tricky. In this situation there would be no way to take her across elven and drow lands by force without them getting them both caught and him killed by either race of elf.

“My name is Vognar, son of Kursk and Ulga and you are my prisoner. Eat you will need your strength.” Popping another piece of fish into his mouth and spitting the bones into the fire.

Elordria nearly laughed aloud, “I am no one’s prisoner you smelly savage and when you sleep I will slit your throat” she lilted playfully, in elven, smiling as if to insinuate thanks for the food.

“You ARE my prisoner, Elordria of Crying Leaf, I saved your life and your virtue, although I offend your sensitive nose, and have no doubt that our destinies are entwined”.

“Both your life and your virtue belong to me now”. He spat back at her in her native language for emphasis.

“How far will either of us get in this forest with so many of your dark kin about?” The reference to the drow along with the shock of hearing it in her own language jarred Elordria. The thought of what the dark elves would have done, caused a shiver up her spine that calmed her ire towards her new captor.

Grateful to be alive and introspective about her situation she began to regard the Ulfen youth more appraisingly than before. As she ate, fish from the river, silently noting it was not some animal killed so he could not be tracked back to their cave. If Vognar knew elven then also was able to assess that they did not usually eat many animals so he was considerate and intelligent, despite his rash and savage exterior. ‘We have the humans all lumped together, but this one is different’ she musing at his long unkempt blond locks and beardless chiseled jaw she had never seen a human before lest be left alone with one. Her brother would boil with anger if she saw this Ulfen.

Smiling to her self, ‘With a bath he might even be handsome’.

Noticing her amusement Vognar scowl grew deeper only drawing the smile out of Elordria into a giggle, who thought, he looked more like the grumpy bear that slept in the cave next to them.

“What do you laugh at elf”, the Ulfen tried to sit up but hit his head on the low stone ceiling, causing her to blurt out laughing even more.

“I am serious, you’re my prisoner. This is no laughing matter”, the big man stated wincing and rubbing his sore head, looking less dangerous and more humorous to her as before.

Shaking her head in apology but unable to contain her giggles which hurt her wound. Vognar thought how he must look to her, probably as odd as she looked to him causing him to smirk and then join her in laughter.

The over the next week two sparingly exchanged stories of their lives. The elf maiden corrected his elven and he explained his customs to her but kept the secret of why the Ulfen had come to the Mierani forest in the first place figuring plunder of her elven ancestors would dampen her spirits. As Elordria kept her own private thoughts about the alarming number of dark elves in her peoples ancestral home.

Vognar began to care for her more like a comrade and less like a prisoner or a prize. He even bathed freqently in the waterfall that was growing cooler with winter approaching. Elordria’s wound grew better each day but she feigned a slow recovery biding her time as to get to know her ‘captor’ better for her people. Originally planning to escape, but soon she discovered that when he left for food, she missed their talks and his company, so she recovered slowly that their time together would not stop.