Free Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4) by Craig Halloran Page A

something.
    Straight down I went, sliding on the steepness of the crater the final fifty feet. There was no sign of Brenwar. I sniffed the air.
    There was that smell again. The one from earlier. The one Brenwar mentioned.  What was it? Not as bad as Orcs, but bad. Ew! I felt as if I should know, but I’d forgotten somehow.
    I scanned the ground. The trees. Looking for heat. Anything. I could see small creatures nesting. Some scurrying through the night, but not much of anything else. I ran my hands over the ground. My touch was sensitive. So sensitive I felt like I could almost taste the ground with it.
    “Come now,” I said, “a crusty old Dwarf couldn’t have gotten too far.”
    On hands and knees, I searched. I sniffed. I was an excellent tracker. But it took a while when I was dealing with new terrain. The out of the ordinary wouldn’t be as plain.
    “Ah, there it is. There it is , indeed.”
    Whatever it was had tossed a net over Brenwar and dragged him away. But what? That was the question. I looked for prints. I found them, and they weren’t at all what I expected.
    “Oh no,” I said. I readied my bow. Snap. Clatch. Snap . And darted along the trail. Brenwar was in trouble.

 
    CHAPTER 17
     
     
    “Are you alright?” Sasha said.
    Bayzog nodded, but his face was drawn up tight. His dark eyes looked through her, up ahead, past the Ettins. He was worried. Sasha could feel it. It left her unsettled. Her stomach fluttered. She’d never seen Bayzog out of sorts before.
    She brushed his hair out if his eyes and h eld out a canteen of Wizard Water.
    He pushed it aside, gently. “No,” he said, “It doesn’t seem right. Not with them out there at risk. And here I am, doing nothing.” He looked at her, then looked away, fists balled up at his sides.
    Anyone who didn’t know Bayzog would see nothing but a part Man, part Elf who oozed with confidence. Chin high. Speech polished. Impeccable in character. But he was rattled.
    “You saved the woman, Bayzog. You’ve battled Ettins. We guard them as we speak. We march them over the plains, our prisoners.” She tried to sound reassuring. “You’ve done well. The others, they can take care of themselves.”
    He kept riding. Focused.
    Up ahead the Ettins lumbered over the ground. Their four heads glanced back, then muttered to themselves.
    They were up to something. Sasha could feel it. But surely they could not break the bond s that Bayzog had cast on them. Bright green shackles bound their wrists behind their backs.
    Sasha didn’t know if she felt good or bad. She didn’t know how to feel actually. It was thrilling and dangerous all at the same time. What was to be a simple trek south towards the Elven lands had become a full blown adventure. And it had all happened in moments. She didn’t know whether she should fell proud, or scared to death.
    “Sasha,” Bayzog said, looking back at her, “come.”
    She caught up. “Yes?”
    “I’m sorry.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his palm. “ I didn’t even take the time to ask you how you were. Are you alright?”
    “Just a little edgy.” He eyes drifted to the Ettins. “Do you think they can get free?”
    “No, no, my dear. Ten Ettins couldn’t break those bonds. And if they try,” he said, offering a grin, “they’ll be in for a shock.”
    “I hope they struggle then,” she said, glowering.
    “Sasha!”
    “Well, it’s true. The y’re evil. I can feel it. I get chills looking at them. And those eyes. So big and dark.” She tore her stare away and looked at him. “I hate them.”
    “Strong words, my dear.” He cleared his throat, lifted his brow. “ Try to ignore them. They’re ignorant of their actions. Born that way. It’s a shame. I used to think there was good in everyone, but over the centuries, I’ve come to know better.” He squeezed her hand. “But what I have learned is even worse.”
    “What’s that , Bayzog?”
    “I’ve learned about the evil that reside s in