Legends from the Warlock's Chair - Book Two - The Chained

Chapter Sixteen - Prisoner of the Wild Hunt

THE DARKNESS GRADUALLY DISSIPATED AND WAS REPLACED by a blinding white light. Bredock Holt opened his eyes and blinked in the dazzling brightness. He tried to move but found he could not.

What was happening to him?

He had been using the Amulet to transport Eldon and the children to the Elven City. But something had gone awry. The last he remembered was being trapped alone in overwhelming darkness. He had walked for what seemed an age, seeking a way out.

But in the end, he could go no further...

Holt shook his head and blinked again. By degrees, his senses began to return. He was chained to the wooden spokes of a wagon wheel. From what he could tell his bag and weapons had been taken from him; worst of all he could no longer feel the familiar weight of the Amulet around his neck.

He was in a camp of some kind. Groups of figures were going about their business.

Mostly Elves by the looks of it, he thought.

But judging by their garb they were not Hunters. Some were practising their weapon skills, others just sat around talking and drinking. While others tended to a pack of wolves.

A large shadow fell across him.

'Ha Gnome, I see that you are finally back with us,' said a gruff voice.

Holt looked up, squinting at the figure silhouetted against the sunlight. Even if he had not recognised the voice, there was no mistaking the hulking form of a Stone Troll.

'Ixil Driz,' he said wearily. 'I wondered how long it would be before I ran into you again.'

The Troll let out a deep booming laugh. 'And I you, Gnome, and I you,' he growled. 'But I am unsure whether to thank you or kill you.'

It was Holt's turn to chuckle. 'You should thank me. The mere fact that you are here means you accepted my advice back in Shabur Varg's stronghold.'

'I left Varg to his fate and made my escape if that is what you mean.' Ixil Driz told him. 'But do not worry. I do not intend to kill you; not yet anyway.'

'So to what do I owe this then?' Holt said nodding towards his shackles.

'My mistress, she wanted to make sure you did not leave before she could have words with you.'

'Well tell, your mistress, that I am ready to talk,' Holt said at once. 'And quickly, I have important business to attend to.'

'I do not think you are in any position to make demands,' the Troll sniggered.

Holt shrugged. 'We will let your mistress decide on that shall we.'

Ixil Driz nodded reluctantly and walked slowly away.

Holt strained at his bonds. It was of no use; he could gain little purchase to test their strength but they looked to be made of the finest steel.

He was worried.

He glanced around the encampment once again. From what he could see, there was no sign of Eldon or the girls.

What had become of them? How long had he wandered in that abysmal darkness? How long had he been comatose?

He required answers to these questions. But more importantly, where was the Amulet. For all his bluster he appreciated the importance of the quest he had been given. He and Eldon had started out to help the girls get back their brother. But he knew this was no longer the case. If what he had been told was true—and he had no reason to disbelieve it—the fate of the Nine Realms would be partly in their hands.