Free Bastion of Darkness by R. A. Salvatore Page A

hadn’t been up in the mountains often, just a handful of times over the course of the years between the Battle of Mountaingate—wherein an open alliance and friendship had formed between the humans and the elves—and the larger war with Thalasi’s talon minions. On those occasions, he had hunted with Arien Silverleaf and his daughter Sylvia, and with Andovar. This was the ranger’s first high view of these peaks since the war with Thalasi, and now it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, full of fond memories, but with regrets in the clear knowledge that two of his companions on those previous occasions had been lost to him forever.
    The ranger leaned back against the mountain wall, eyes locked on the view, seeing the present majesty as he was imagining the past. He found peace there, a serenity against which he had to guard closely, lest he fall asleep before he set his fire, in this open exposure where the mountain night winds would not ever let him wake.
    With a great sigh nearly an hour later, Belexus forced himself up and went to the wood. The wind had begun to swirl, but not too strong, and the wall of the plateau was neither flat nor even, affording some protection. Just as the ranger put flint to steel, something distant caught his eye, a soaring form crossing an open expanse in the not-quite-dark sky, a black silhouette that quickly disappeared against the dark face of yet another mountain.
    Belexus straightened, then went into a cautious crouch, slipping to the edge of the flat stone, then falling flat to his belly. He peered intently out from the ridge as he slowly readied his bow. Likely it had only been a bird, a large one to be sure, but with thoughts of a dragon cave fresh in his mind, the ranger was certainly more than a bit wary!
    He continued his scan for several minutes, as the skycontinued to darken. Belexus blew a deep sigh; soon it would be so dark that even if the flying creature came out from behind a mountain background, it would remain invisible to him. A few minutes later, with the sky turned to blackness, he found himself faced with another decision: to retreat back down the mountain or to risk his current position, for though he would not see a flying creature’s approach, it would certainly spot the glow of his fire.
    “A bird,” Belexus decided, and so he went to the kindling and struck his flint to steel, and soon had a warm fire blazing. He wrapped his blanket about him and put his back to the mountain wall, thinking to get some much-needed sleep, but he also placed his trusted sword, unsheathed, across his lap, and had his strung bow, arrow resting across string and wood, right beside him.
    He sensed the approach soon after, his eyelids just beginning to droop, and all sleepiness flew from him in a rush of adrenaline. He forced himself to hold steady, though, slumped against the wall, and kept his eyes half closed, feigning sleep, with one hand clenched tightly about his sword hilt.
    Up Belexus sprang as the creature glided in, his signature cry of “Oi Avalon!” issuing forth, his mighty sword flashing in the firelight.
    And then Belexus nearly toppled in surprise, as Calamus, winged lord of horses, lighted easily on the plateau, stomping his hooves with delight at the sight of his ranger friend.
    Belexus blinked many times as he viewed the unexpected, and not unappreciated, sight, as he noted the bulging saddlebags draped across the magnificent steed’s back, right behind the saddle in which Belexus had sat so many times. He went to the pegasus at once, stroked the muscled neck and flank, then moved to the saddlebagsand was not surprised at their contents of wrapped foodstuffs and warm clothes.
    “Brielle,” Belexus reasoned, for someone had saddled the pegasus, and no one in all the world held a closer bond to Calamus than the Emerald Witch. “Brielle sent ye.”
    Calamus snorted and stomped a hoof.
    The ranger smiled warmly, glad for the company this cold night—but