The Secrets of the Boggy Marsh
Chapter 13: The Hunt
Mr. Elf sighed at the sight of Boggy Marsh. The ever-present mist swirled lazily around the edges of Hag Head’s house. He stepped out onto the damp soggy earth, with Paddy, Seamus and Mody following right behind him.
“How will we get across the boundary?” he called back to Hag Head.
“A way will present itself,” Hag Head’s voice echoed, as if from far away, although it also seemed to come from within the house. “Good luck to you all,” she said.
Out in the mist, something screeched. All four companions shot worried glances in the direction the noise had come from. When they turned back, Hag Head’s house was gone.
“That didn’t sound good,” Seamus said. “I suggest we don’t go in that direction.”
“Which way should we go?” Paddy asked. “How do we get back to Damanta Mallaithe?”
“Mr. Elf, can you fly up and see which direction to go?” Seamus asked.
Mr. Elf flexed his wings and grimaced with pain. He wasn’t going to be able to fly for some time. He turned to Mody. “Do you know where we are, or how to get to where we want to be?”
Mody shook her head. “I don’t know where we are, and I don’t know where we are going.”
“But you were able to lead us through Boggy Marsh before,” Paddy said.
“That was different,” Mody replied. “I don’t know where Hag Head’s house has left us. If I come across something I recognize, I may be able to help, but even then, I don’t know where we are going.”
Mr. Elf was still recovering from the meeting with The She and the sudden ejection from Hag Head’s house. This was all moving too quickly, he thought. There were so many things he had wanted to talk about with both The She and Hag Head, including how to find their way to the boundary. “Looks like we’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way,” he said. “We know it’s early morning, so the sun will be in the east. Damanta Mallaithe is on the western boundary of Boggy Marsh.” The Aelf peered through the mist, turning slowly in a full circle. “Soooo, … there, the sky is brighter in that direction. That must be where the sun is, and that means we need to go that way,” Mr. Elf said, pointing into the mist.
“Suits me,” Seamus said. “That’s away from where that screeching came from.”
Mr. Elf bent down to Mody. “Mody will you please walk in front of us. If there is anything evil, you will turn invisible and that will be our warning. Paddy, Seamus, keep an eye on your swords, if they start to glow let me know.”
The four companions headed into the mist, with Mody leading. Paddy and Seamus followed close behind and Mr. Elf came last. As they made their way through Boggy Marsh, they had to make small detours around stagnant, filthy pools of scum-covered water. Frequently, the water plopped, giving off bursts of foul smelling gas. Mr. Elf kept them all moving at a steady pace, and made sure they kept the sun behind them.
Then it started to rain.
“Oh, now that’s just great!” Paddy exclaimed. “As if it isn’t hard enough getting through this muck as it is.”
Mr. Elf frantically searched for a clue as to which direction the rain was being blown, in relation to where the brighter patch of sky had been. But it was hopeless. The rain was coming straight down, and there was no way he could tell direction anymore.
“It can’t really get any worse, can it?” Mody asked, hopefully.
In response, the rain doubled in strength, from a light drizzle to a heavy downpour.
“Now what do we do?” asked a completely soaked Seamus.
⚔
The four companions were not the only ones who were unhappy about the rain.
A Fuggly search party was returning from searching the area assigned to them, when they came across tracks matching the description provided by the great Gold Dragon. The rain started, just as the Fugglies discovered the tracks.
The head Fuggly watched with rising frustration, as the torrential rain washed away the footprints. He turned to his second in command. “Quickly, find The Gold One and tell her we have sighted tracks. The thieves are headed for the western boundary, as expected.”
The Fuggly nodded once before running off into the mist, his stumpy little legs chirping as he went. The head Fuggly motioned to the rest of his group to follow him, and their wet, little legs clacked like a castanet orchestra, as they waddled in the direction the tracks had been heading. They might not be able to see the tracks, but they had a good idea of where the thieves were headed.
⚔
The rain continued to pour down, soaking everything. The ground was one great puddle now, and it was impossible to tell safe ground from stagnant pool. The companions huddled together miserably, as they tried to work out what to do next. When the rain had started, they had quickly put on the rain shield coats from their adventurer’s pack. However, the raincoats were never intended for this sort of rain. Mr. Elf made a mental note to upgrade the adventurer kits he sold in his shop with better raincoats.
They broke out some of the dry food from the packs. The food was in the form of dirty brown, compressed, dry blocks. They didn’t look particularly appealing, but they did taste quite good. The companions nibbled at the blocks, while they considered their predicament.
Mr. Elf was very grumpy. He was wet, cold and altogether lost. He grimaced at Paddy, Seamus and Mody, all of whom were eying him expectantly. “What?” he said, rudely.
“Well?” Paddy asked. “What do we do now?”
For the first time, in a long-time, Mr. Elf was stumped. He didn’t have a clue what to do.
Seamus felt a tug at his hip. He looked down at where Grace was hanging in the scabbard on his belt. The sword pulsed once faintly. “What is it, Grace?” he whispered, to the sword. The sword swung a little to Seamus’s right and tugged twice. Seamus frowned and stared in the direction the sword indicated. “Do you want us to go in that direction?” he asked the sword. The sword pulsed again in affirmation.
“Who are you talking to?” Mr. Elf asked.
Seamus’s face went red. “Umm … Grace,” he stammered.
“Why?” Paddy asked.
“Grace and I can communicate, in a simple sort of way,” Seamus advised. “It first happened when I froze the Fugglies, when we were going after the Dragon’s egg. I asked Grace not to glow so brightly and Grace responded. I think Grace wants us to go in that direction,” Seamus said, pointing in the direction the sword had tugged towards.
Mr. Elf studied Grace in the scabbard at Seamus’s hip, and saw that it was indeed tugging gently in the direction Seamus had indicated. In all the 85 years Mr. Elf had been carrying Grace and Favour, he had never seen either sword behave in such a manner.
More than that, in all the time the Aelfin people had cared for the swords, there had never been any indication they could communicate. Then he remembered, the object the swords had been made from was supposed to have been sentient.
Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Mr. Elf reacted to this change of events quickly. “Right, let’s go where Grace wants to lead us. Seamus, get Grace out of the scabbard and lead the way, with Mody beside you. Paddy and I will follow.”
Seamus did as he was instructed, and Grace gently tugged him in the direction the sword wanted to go.
Paddy got Favour out of its scabbard, examining it suspiciously. “So, can you do that, too?” he asked, not expecting a response. Favour pulsed gently in response.
Mr. Elf shook his head in amazement. Caught between a sense of disgust and a sense of wonder, he chuckled to himself. This just kept getting better and better. He had no idea what the meaning of the sword’s actions was, but he was sure it would only lead to more trouble for him.
Seamus led the companions steadily through Boggy Marsh, with Grace tugging him gently, zigzagging on a seemingly random course. Mr. Elf was somewhat reassured that none of them suddenly sank into a deep pool of filthy water.
The rain gradually eased and then finally stopped.
“I’m getting t
ired,” Mody said, to Mr. Elf. “How much further do you think we have to go?”
Mr. Elf was starting to formulate a reply, when he noticed Mody was beginning to fade.
Paddy and Seamus spoke at the same time. “Mr. Elf, trouble is coming.” The swords were glowing in response to something evil close by.
The companions stopped where they were, each searching the swirling mist for signs of danger, or attack. Soon, a feint chirping noise came from behind them. It started quietly, but grew gradually stronger, as something approached through the mist.
“Fugglies!” Mr. Elf exclaimed, “and they’re coming straight at us. Quick, get behind those tree stumps,” he ordered.
The four companions scurried and sloshed their way to a series of blackened tree stumps. The stumps were quite wide and the tops were lost in the mist swirling slowly above.
“Why are all the trees in this place black” Paddy whispered, to Seamus.
“They all look like they’ve been badly burnt at some point,” Seamus whispered back. “Can’t see how that’s possible, though, given how wet it is in Boggy Marsh.”
“Would you two kindly shut up!” Mr. Elf said, in a low voice. Mr. Elf moved up behind Paddy and Seamus; if there was going to be trouble, he wanted to keep them close by. “Where’s Mody?” he asked, casting around for some sign of the bird.
⚔
The leader of the Fugglies had kept pushing his group hard through the rain. He knew this part of Boggy Marsh very well. They knew the safe paths through the marsh, and could move at a speed the companions could not possibly achieve. He and his group had kept to the major paths leading towards the western boundary, and in doing so had made good time. The leader was excited; he knew very well that the Dragon would greatly favor those who captured the thieves for her.
The Fuggly leader stopped, raising a hand to signal the group. The group stopped. The leader drew a deep breath and scanned the bushes. The mist, as always, made it difficult to see very far. Off to his right, he saw a clump of blackened tree stumps protruding through the mist. He knew from that landmark, the western boundary was less than an hour away.
“What now, group leader?” asked one of the Fugglies, with a high-pitched, girl-like voice.
The Fuggly leader scratched his soaking head, while thinking. “The boundary is less than an hour away. I’m not sure whether we should keep going, or double back and check some of the lesser paths.” He also spoke with a high-pitched whine. All Fugglies had high-pitched feminine voices. It came from having no neck.
⚔
Paddy, Seamus and Mr. Elf hid behind the blackened tree stumps. They heard the chirping of the Fugglies’ thighs rubbing together, as they came closer. Then the chirping stopped.
Mr. Elf snuck a quick look around the tree stump, and saw a group of ten Fugglies. The lead Fuggly looked right at the tree stumps the companions were hiding behind.
Mr. Elf froze. He knew if he moved, the Fuggly might notice the movement and come to investigate.
“What now group leader?” they heard one of the Fugglies ask, in a high-pitched voice.
Paddy slid around the other side of his tree stump to see what was going on. He saw the lead Fuggly scratch his head.
“The boundary is less than an hour away,” the lead Fuggly said.
Mr. Elf smiled grimly. They were a mere hour away from safety.
“I’m not sure whether we should keep going, or double back and check some of the lesser paths,” he said.
Paddy couldn’t help himself. Hiding in terror, behind blackened tree stumps, in a misty swamp, hearing high-pitched voices coming from the neck less Fugglies, was just too much. To Paddy the whole situation was suddenly, ridiculously funny. Despite his fear, and the very real danger they were in, he started to giggle.