Notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:
Solshigtr turned his attention to two older people and a woman his age and conferred with them. Solshigtr resumed his composure and walked towards Ahearn. Ahearn was considered tall, but the Witchleins were more than a foot taller. The chieftain towered above him. Looking down upon Ahearn, Solshigtr spoke, “How will you save our lives?”
Ahearn said one word, and so very softly so that only the chieftain could hear him. He spoke that word gingerly, as if uttering it revealed a great and awe-encompassing truth. “Magic.” He said as he let the word linger on his lips.
Ahearn followed his hushed utterance with a louder pronouncement, “It is your own fault if you get hurt by the dwarf or anyone else with weapons. But you have no defense against the magic of the maiden.” He lingered on the word, “magic.” The Witchleins stirred uneasily. They did not like what they heard and disagreed. They did not belief the maiden was capable of magic.
Ahearn quieted them after he reminded them the maiden carried a powerful staff. No one could argue the truth of that statement. Since a female held it, they had not focused upon the possible purpose behind her control of the staff. It seemed to them, Ahearn might have a point.
“Alright, what is your bargain? Solshigtr asked at last.
“Yes!” Ahearn congratulated himself, letting out a small sigh of relief. In that moment, Ahearn achieved success. He became a person to these tribesmen. For all that, he merely bargained safe passage for himself and the “magic maiden” while the rest were left to fend for themselves.
“So we feast on the bones of your companions, while you and the female go free?”
Ahearn nodded grimly. “They are not persons to me.”
Satisfied, a time and place for the ambush was set. Not surprizingly, they chose their usual ambush place, a large cleared, inviting spot, near the location of sacred land on the other side of a gully connected by an old bridge. The main road continued onward past the bridge. The site happened to be a little more than an hour further up the road from where they stopped for the night. In fact, the Witchleins expected the party of travelers to have made it all the way to their ambush site that night.
The cannibals carefully kept the road trimmed with thorny bushes and brambles. They were massively disappointed when Jasmine’s party decided to travel no further and set up camp where they stood. This was unexpected. The Wichtleins could not conceive of anyone camping in the middle of the road. Attacking during the day was never their preference. Mid-night attacks were so much more effective to carry out, and much easier — especially when their victims were asleep.
After striking his bargain, the Dark Elf returned to where Jasmine and Glynn rested for the night. Once he settled in, he slept so soundly, he scarcely heard Rogan arrive.
© 2018 DARLENE