The black shied away from the stable door and Philip put a reassuring hand on the horse’s back. It was the middle of the night, and he knew that the ruffians could easily shoot a man off his horse and drag him into some hole to be left, no questions asked. The thing was, Philip was not a man but a Tor! Quietly, he crawled out of the back door of the stable. He had heard someone loitering around the bales of hay on the other side of the lawn, in good view of the back door; but he slipped quickly behind a water trough and was not seen. Peeking around the corner, he could see the two scoundrels that he had heard from inside the stable. Pulling his cloak around him, he waited for the men to look away, and he crawled around the edge of the building.
Captain Philip Taer stood up slowly, as not to be seen, and then walked quickly but quietly toward them. Seeing the Tor, the first ruffian put an arrow level with Philip’s chest. The blade of the Ancient Forest Folk sliced the shaft and man in half. Seeing the other two men closing in on the sides, he ran to the tree next to him. He lifted himself quickly and quietly into the branches. It was very dark and to them it seemed as if he had disappeared. Taking a large pinecone from the tree he then proceeded to launch it into the distance. One gullible man ran off to see what there was to be seen, but the other stayed. Phil threw another pine cone, much more softly, hitting the stable’s back door. The man, thinking that he was so smart, padded softly toward the stable’s main door. As the man passed underneath Philip, he received a sword through his back. Philip mounted the black and left.
Nothing much happened that night, and Philip slept the day through, hidden in a dried-up riverbed, covered with many bushes and a large log above him. He once heard someone pass by, a ways away, but nothing else either that day or the next. Night came once again, and Philip took to the Western Road once more. Finally, when dawn was first in the sky, he came within view of the great city of Angor. Its white towers rose high into the air, and its great wall stood fast, watching over all. Philip entered a tavern in one of the many villages on Angor’s fringes. It was a good place, so he told the barkeeper that he was on business concerning the King, and that he should not tell anyone anything about Philip. The man nodded vigorously when he received this news and left Phil to his slumber.
Loud noises from the common room woke Phil up sometime around mid-afternoon, and he drew his sword. Putting his ear against the door, he listened.
“Yes, I did see a Tor as a matter of fact!” said a high-pitched voice, the innkeeper.
“Where is he?!” came a deep gruff response.
“I-I don’t know! He left a few hours ago.”
“We saw him enter here and no one saw him leave! Now where is he?!”
“He could have left when I came to get you,” said a third, evil sounding voice.
“Shut up, let me deal with this!” yelled the gruff one.
“We are wasting our time!”
“Now, innkeeper, you have one last chance: where is the spy from the forest?!”
“He already left…he said he was going to the guard house,” stuttered the frightened but dutiful innkeeper.
“Going to report us is he!”
“I can deal with this one!” said the evil voice as their footsteps receded back to the street.
Philip let out his breath and returned to bed.
The evening was cool, and a fresh, soft breeze blew in from the sea. The black had wanted to come along, but Philip parted with him at the stables, for the Tor wished for secrecy. It had been said by the warriors of the Forest Guard that Captain Philip Taer was invisible to the eyes of his foes, and after all he was a Forest Wraith . Still, Philip knew he was not in his forest and was surrounded by thousands of strange eyes around every turn and in every window. He was extra careful.
Through the Garden of Kings went his path. He climbed a small wall to get in, and then he weaved his way through the statues and many types of vegetation. The weak light left in the sky revealed many kinds of beautiful, exotic flowers. Yellows, reds, blues, and all shades of greens adorned their soft petals of varied shapes. Philip looked up to see a large wall, adorned with ivy. The white castle loomed behind it. He knew that if he could climb the wall, he would be in the King’s personal gardens and then chambers. Philip had climbed many large trees in his life and some by simply using the vines that grew along certain tree’s sides. He did the same with the ivy covered wall.
