Darkness enveloped them as they waited for Garinor’s strength to return, but time was not favoring him. As the hours ticked past, Garinor felt only a reverberating chill that coursed through him, keeping him feeling shaky and weak. Song was worried.
The night passed uneventfully, though Song spent much of it on watch, both for enemies and to ensure that Garinor’s condition didn’t worsen. It was a difficult night, for the young man still burned with vigor from the healing he had been given and to sit idle for so long wore at his patience.
When dawn arrived, Garinor found himself alone, though he could hear Song scavenging for food. They ate quietly and though Garinor tried to assure Song that he was feeling better, his pale complexion and trembling limbs said otherwise.
Song was restless. He kept testing Garinor to see if he was strong enough to journey onward, but it was clear that he needed more time to recover. Meanwhile, Garinor realized that Song was worried about his friends in the camp. “Song, I’m fine here. You should go and check on them.”
“I can’t leave you here alone. You can’t even defend yourself.”
For Garinor, seeing his friend so torn was cause enough for him to dig into his inner strength. “I can if I need to.” He drew his sword and clenched his jaw, standing up in a defensive posture that proved he could if the need was great enough.
At last Song caved in. “Okay, but I’ll only be gone for a short time. I promise you.” Garinor kept his smile light and he convinced his body to remain strong while Song prepared provisions for Garinor’s day and then left to check on the others.
Once Song was gone, Garinor collapsed with a deep sigh. He did feel as if he was recovering, but the weariness was overpowering for now. Reviving a man from the dead was a miraculous feat and Garinor conceded that even miracles needed power to work.
The afternoon passed by quietly for the stranded boy. He dozed off a few times and awoke when stray noises alerted him, but they always seemed to be a falling branch or an errant squirrel overhead, which was fortunate, for Garinor wasn’t entirely certain he could fend off a true attacker.
As the sun slipped out of its perch in the sky, a new noise erupted all around him. Footsteps. They were coming in his direction and he pulled himself upright, leaning against a tree for support. He withdrew his sword and prepared his defenses.
“Ho there, you must be Garinor. Song sent us to find you,” called a young woman leading a horse behind her. Two young men were with her and Garinor noticed that they wore the mismatched armor of the Daggerfists and she also withdrew the necklace denoting her membership in the group.
“But how do I know you didn’t claim that off someone else?”
“True, you don’t, but I’m sorry to say that you haven’t much choice right now. I’m Zephyr and here are Chopper and Wobbles. Let me explain what happened.”
She went into a tale that brought a frown to Garinor’s face. “Song came to us after the fighting had ended. The prince has our camp held prisoner, but for a few of us who managed to escape. We intercepted Song before too late. He devised a scheme to free the others and we couldn’t stop him. He seemed driven by some other power. I’ve seen him focused before, but this was entirely different.
“Anyway, he ventured off and freed a few of the others, with our help. They escaped to the north and the prince is determined to pursue them. But Song returned to free another set of us from the prince’s guards. We three followed him back to the camp, and a second set was saved.
“The prince’s guards were angry and they posted well-armed sentries against the others of us. There was no hope for us to free another batch of our friends. But still, Song was determined to try. In that run, we claimed this horse and Song was injured in the process. Some of our others took him to the west to another encampment there, but we had to abandon the rest of our comrades who are in the prince’s clutches.
“Before he left, though, Song sent us to find you and to escort you to your next destination. He also wanted us to assure you that his wounds are not severe and he will recover, but he couldn’t come himself. What he told us to say confuses me, but he was certain that it would make sense to you. He said he wished he had another stone.”
It was that last line that convinced Garinor of the truth of the tale. Even under torture, there would have been no reason for Song to reveal the existence of the stone that had healed him, and the cryptic manner in which he had given the message confided in Garinor that his friend was in his right mind. He relaxed at once and sheathed his sword. “Very well then.”
Zephyr smiled in gratitude at Garinor for his trust. “It’s late now and we’ll watch over you tonight, but know that we might need to move at a moment’s notice if any of the prince’s men venture to these parts. You must rest all you can until we can get you to the home base. I only hope we reach there before the prince can.”
Chopper spoke then. “Zeph, I’m sure it’s fine. All the ones we let free are going to distract the prince, you know it. We’ve all been trained for that. So stop worrying so much.”
With three guards to watch over him, Garinor felt completely safe and he let himself fall asleep, hoping that he would awaken the next day feeling much more like his usual self.
The miniature version of the Daggerfist camp operated in the same manner as the larger force. Zephyr, Chopper, and Wobbles all pitched in to split responsibilities without the need for arguments or drawing of straws to select tasks. Each had their own unique skills in which they excelled, but they shared everything else. When Garinor was awoken the next day, the three Daggerfists were already up and about with breakfast ready and makeshift crutches for Garinor if he needed them.
Garinor took only one of the two crutches and he used it as a walking stick, for the sleep had indeed replenished his strength. The four of them led the horse through the trees and they made their way toward the place they intended to take Garinor. He didn’t mind being led about at this point. It was enough to concentrate on walking without tumbling down.
Zephyr walked closer to Garinor and kept her eye on him. “You’re a strong lad. And it makes me feel like all we do might be worth it in the end.”
Garinor blushed. “Er, thank you.”
Zephyr laughed. “Well, I’m not sure I ought to be telling you this, but we know about something that might affect you. See, many years ago there was this prophecy…”
“I know of it,” he admitted, his mind whirling suddenly.
Zephyr’s eyes opened wide. “You do? Then you know about the scepter as well?”
“A little, but mostly just that I need to get there.”
Zephyr bit her lip, debating with herself. “Okay, Garinor, listen, and this might be hard for you to hear, but it sounds like you already know about it anyway. We know that the prince, the heir, and one other are all bound to find the scepter. We’ve also learned that the prince has been taking possible heirs to the scepter to test their claim.” She hesitated for a moment. “We don’t exactly know where it is, but when Song was with us charging into camp, we heard the prince was adamant that they stop the escapees before they went too far north. He didn’t seem to care much about the ones that went west.”
Garinor nodded slowly. “Then it’s to the north.”
“Looks that way. But—” she stopped again.
“Go on, Zephyr, you might as well tell me all of it. I should know what I’m walking in to.”
“You’re a strong lad, you know. Thing is, all we’ve heard is that the prince takes the boy to a cave where the scepter is and none of the boys is ever heard from again.”
These words echoed in Garinor’s ears. “It’s a one-way trip, then. I wonder why.”
“I don’t know. But maybe he finds out they aren’t the one he’s been looking for and he does away with them.”
Wobbles decided to try to lighten the mood. “Nah, they’s bein’ fed to a dragon. I hears they be likin’ fresh meat, ya know.”
Garinor shook his head and stared at the man. “You’re a real help!”
As the morning hours drifted away, Garinor’s mind reeled, but his strength increased further. He was able to ditch the walking stick and he managed well on his own again. He would have accepted a lingering sense of lethargy in exchange for Song’s life, but he was greatly relieved that he didn’t actually have to.
The three Daggerfists were good companions. They traded jovial stories of some of their adventures and, despite all the trials he’d had already, Garinor was excited by the wild events each of them had experienced. He delighted the most in the story of how Wobbles came to earn his name. It was an embarrassing tale and not so much of an adventure, but the four of them enjoyed it all the same.
He had been born the son of an innkeeper and he had worked in the inn since he could walk. He started by wiping tables or washing dishes and later progressed to keeping track of inventory. During that, he was known to nip into the stores of mead and he was often seen staggering about. His younger brother went missing one day and along his journey to find him he had stumbled into a Daggerfist camp after a liberal helping of mead, which had been his primary choice of nourishment for his trip. Staggering into camp had earned him his nickname and it was something he had never been able to escape.
“‘Course it don’ he’p much tha’ I still like me mead,” he ended with a chuckle.
They all laughed and Garinor was thoroughly enjoying himself. Spending time with them was very different than the time he had shared with Song, though he hoped his friend was feeling better and they could be reunited soon to continue their own bantering. Thinking along those lines prompted Garinor to consider his own lifelong friends and he fell to silence as he thought about them.
The rest of the day they continued north to ensure they avoided the prince’s possible sentries, and as evening approached they made camp one last time together. In the morning, they would turn sharply west and then make the last leg of the journey to the larger Daggerfist camp and their final destination.