The Arrowstone

Chapter 20 - The Trees of Anuvie

CHAPTER 20

THE TREES OF ANUVIE

Gem sped desperately on, half-stumbling as he tried to escape his enemy. He heard the shouts of the madman behind him, and attempted to increase speed. But the man was gaining fast. Suddenly, with what was left of his wits, Gem remembered the small arrow given to him by Engarn at the River Houses; the substitute arrow given as a cover to the real Arrowstone.

'It's now or never,' thought Gem as he flung himself to the ground, rolling over and pulling the quiver from his sack in one complete movement. Scrabbling the arrow from its holder, he rose, bringing the arrow up behind him, and taking aim. The man was almost upon him, and skidded in his tracks as Gem let the arrow fly. It was a good throw, but quickly perceived by the man who ducked to avoid it, falling on his stomach. The arrow sailed over his head and landed point down in the hard soil behind. Yet this caused the delay that Gem needed. Doubling back, he ran past the man and towards the place where Gorthlob lay trussed up. He grabbed Allarade and started slashing at the sack cords. But there was no time, for the attacker was on his feet again.

'Hold on Gorthlob!' cried Gem, and he hoisted the sack onto his shoulder, ready to run. But to his relief, the man was more interested in the arrow that stood lodged in the ground. 'He thinks it's the Arrowstone. Good!' thought Gem, and bolted off as fast as his legs would carry him. Behind him remained the figure of a man prodding victoriously at the air with his sword, before stooping to pull the arrow that was stuck at his feet. 'He's not chasing us - he thinks he's got it!' thought Gem as he ran. 'Let's hope he doesn't realise too soon! Run for your life, Gemrol!'

And so they were spared, for the moment at least. Gem heard a shout of triumph from the man as he pulled the arrow up and held it before him, but the frightened Burrite did not dare even to look over his shoulder. Sinews fit to burst, half-blinded with sweat and fear, he ploughed on.

Finally Gem could go no further, and collapsed on the ground. The wriggling bundle fell with him. Gem hacked at the sack and netting until a relieved Gorthlob shook himself free. Looking back, there was no sign of the man. Gem looked around and realised that, near to where he was sitting, there stood a strange tree. The tree bore no visible roots, but rose from the soil, grey and leafless. For a moment Gem forgot the man, and wandered over to the tree.

'Look, Gorthlob - a tree!' he exclaimed, wandering slowly around its thin, gnarled trunk. 'It must be the first tree we've come across in days! It's not very tall, but at least it's a tree. Any sign of life is encouraging in these places, and we may need firewood before long. Perhaps we should break some of its branches; I am sure nobody round here would object. Quickly, Gorthlob - come and help me.'

Meanwhile, the thief had wandered perhaps half a mile, perhaps a mile, revelling in his victory. He came across a rock, and sat down to examine his prize. It appeared quite a beautiful arrow, although plain. Its silvery tint caught his eye, and he smiled unsurely. Was this the Arrowstone of Troch? He turned it between his fingers. Suddenly a thought occured to him. Why had it not flashed or sparked, or shone like a thousand lights as the tales tell? The thief shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps it would perform its wonders only for the Dunildow. Still, it was a treasure beyond price or value, and now it was in his possession. So blast the Bredunil and his little tag-along creature! Let them wander in the Wastes until they starve! He cared not, for he had achieved that which he had set out to accomplish.

But then, as he ran his finger along the head of the arrow, the thief thought he felt something that worried him.

'Wait a minute,' hissed the thief under his breath as he took a closer look. 'The point is notched! No stone or weapon can dint the blade of the Arrowstone of Troch - no metal or substance in all Feliach is as strong! That is what they say! This is no Arrowstone! I've been had!' Enraged, his blood boiling up in a fury, the thief sprang from the rock and looked about like one devil-possessed. 'And I let them get away!' he roared. 'Not for long!' he spat, and his lips curled into an evil grin as the slaver dripped from his mouth. 'I'll find them, Arrowstone or not!' and away he sped with death in his eyes.