Chapter 52: Lying Low

As they walked on, Alcar pondered over the experimental enchantment he had carried out on the caterpillar back at the bunkhouse. He recalled the phrase, and the gigantic growth of the creature was interesting. Would it be possible to grow himself in a similar way?

Or Brutus?

It was certainly worth considering – especially given the danger he was currently in. He felt very strongly, however – deep down – that his magical power was becoming exhausted. Master Maluhk had warned him that this could happen, and now he could feel it, without being able to explain how.

“We need to lie low, I think,” he murmured, running one hand over Brutus’s back as they walked side by side. “I need to rest if I’m going to get us out of here alive and catch up with the others. Those bastard kobolds will be coming after me, and there could be more of the little shits up ahead.”

“Wuff?”

“I know, I know. I’m not abandoning the group. But Etienne is stealthy, and Olynka’s already a fine archer. I’m just a big bright-green idiot with a stick.”

“Wuff.”

Just then, Alcar spied a dark area low down on the rock across the stream. It was partially covered by a clump of ivy that hung down, but it looked darker than he expected. Not a cave, perhaps, but a hollow. It looked very much like someone could shelter there. If so, it promised to be the perfect place to wait until the trouble died down – or until his friends came back to look for him.

Alcar paused, glancing both ways, and then peered around at the ground near his feet. He knew that he was no tracker, but if kobolds regularly crossed the stream at this point and made use of the hollow, then there would surely be some mud and prints on both sides, wouldn’t there? At present, he could only see prints of people moving in both directions alongside the stream, but not across it.

“Come on, boy... I’m gonna try something.”

Raising his robes as he had done before – even though this stream was no more than six inches deep – Alcar tentatively waded across. On the other side, there were two lage boulders, each semicircular, at the foot of the cliff. Behind was the area of ivy. He stopped and used his staff to raise the leaves up.

“Yes!” he murmured. “It’s big enough.“

Sure enough, there was a gap behind the hanging tendrils. It was around the same size as the area underneath a small table, such as the one in the taproom where he and the others had sat the previous evening. Tucking inside there with Brutus would be cozy to say the least... but certainly not impossible.

Not wanting to waste any time, Alcar got down on his knees, crawled in, and settled down to wait. Brutus straight away lay down on his master’s knees, and Alcar then arranged the ivy to cover them both up as best he could.

A few minutes later, a small group of kobolds approached, following the line of the stream. Looking out from the darkness, Alcar could see them clearly enough, but he remained sure that they couldn’t see him.

Or at least, fairly sure.

Brutus was alert, and Alcar stroked the dog’s neck and murmured “Shh...”. He was concerned that Brutus might growl and give them away. Fortunately, the big hound responded quickly to his calming noises and settled further, laying his droopy head back down on Alcar’s lap.

Alcar’s heart began thumping louder, however, as the kobolds paused just a couple of yards away, chattering in their language. As he didn’t speak a word of kobold, he had no idea what they were saying.

It felt as if it was purposeful – urgent, even.

Soon, though, the small gathering moved on. Alcar noticed that one of them had several scorch marks upon his clothing and patchwork armor. He grinned to himself as they passed by and began to move on towards the next section of the gulley.

Around ten minutes later, two further kobolds moved past the same way without stopping, and shortly after, Alcar spied a single kobold archer up above, patrolling the tops of the cliffs to the south. Unlike the kobolds he had seen before, however, their patrols appeared routine and unhurried. If they were hunting for Alcar and his companions, it was hard to tell. They were no doubt aware that the adventurers had moved through, but gave no indication of knowing where to look – even approximately.

Better still, the kobolds that he had seen showed no signs of being able to track him. If they had, he would have been found and probably killed already. Previously, Alcar had vaguely assumed that all of the sentient non-humans that lived in the wilderness – goblins, orcs, kobolds, kreebs, lizardfolk, and more – were good at tracking and hunting.

But apparently not.

So far, none of the groups that he had seen appeared to be have the skill to even begin trying to hunt him or his companions.

As Alcar waited on, the area in front of where he had sheltered became more shaded as the sun moved further west. After a while, he began to wonder to himself how long had passed since the last time he had seen a kobold. Half an hour? An hour?

Perhaps it was safe for him to move on at last. There was clearly nobody around. The search must have died down.

Brutus looked up, and Alcar nodded, shifting his legs. “Right, boy,” he said softly. “Time to go.”

Together they crawled out from under the ivy and stood, Alcar leaning back slightly, feeling the discomfort in his lower back of having been hunched up for an hour or more. As he did so, Brutus lapped at the stream again, moved over and urinated against one of the rocks, and then squatted and began to shit.

Just then, Alcar heard more kobold chattering on the trail just to the west. He was in the shade now, but also in full view. They couldn’t miss him.

Gripping his staff tightly, he took a couple of steps back and pulled in to the rock face once again, watching and waiting. Would the creatures walk on by? He was at least in the deep shadow now.

So far, the kobolds didn’t seem to have noticed anything. But then, as they reached a point just three or four yards away, one of them spotted Brutus. The creature paused and pointed, whacking his companion kobold on the arm. They both stood for a moment, as the big dog completed his shit, turned, and sniffed at it. Then, one of the kobolds pulled out a crossbow and raised it, pointing it at Brutus’s rear end.

“Nooooo!” cried Alcar, charging forward and splashing through the water towards the pair. Shocked, the nearest kobold raised his crossbow slightly as he took the shot; the bolt flew out harmlessly well above Brutus, pinged onto the rocky surface behind, and then deflected out into the gulley.

Alcar, meanwhile brought his staff down hard upon the shooter’s back, sending the creature stumbling forward, and then kicked sideways at the other.

Soon, though, the pair had recovered from the surprise and had drawn short-swords. They stood on either side of him, and began to approach him slowly but purposefully, hunched low and grinning as they moved.