They were still congratulating themselves when they came upon the mutilated corpse of a woman who had been killed only hours before. Just beyond the body was a well-beaten trail that ran north and south.

Chapter 23

"Losels!" little shad exclaimed in horror as he saw the awful remains. He ran away to the bushes, and shortly thereafter the others heard sounds of vomiting.

Chert looked at the body and felt sickened himself, even as hardened to such things as he was. "What do you think, Gord?" he asked.

"Gellor is the one to ask," said the young adventurer, averting his eyes from the blood and gore.

"Why did he mention 'lost ones' – losels – when he viewed this terrible thing that's been done?" the bard asked Thatch.

The boy stood and stared at the gruesome sight as if transfixed. If he heard Gellor's question, Thatch made no reply. The bard took him firmly by the shoulders and turned him so that he faced away from the body and had to look at the man, whose kind expression bolstered him. "Come now, Thatch my lad!" said Gellor softly. "It is terrible, I'll grant you, but as a hunter and treasure-seeker you'll have to grow to accept such sights – just never like them!"

"Yes… sir," Thatch gulped and stammered, tears springing from his eyes. "I… I can stand butchering and dressing, Master Gellor, but… but what was done to that woman…"

"Never mind that now. There's nothing we can do to save her. She is dead, and that's a fact. I want to know why Shad cried 'losels' when he saw the body. Do you know why?"

"We've heard it before, sir, in the village. We didn't see anything – they wouldn't show us – but just a week or so back two of the local folk, a woodcutter and his wife, were found butchered most terribly. The priest of Pholtus told us that losels did such work. What with the devil-pig and the losels, nobody's wanted to go far from Tusham lately."

Neither lad knew exactly what losels were, although Shad said he had heard one of the village elders state that they were part man and part ape. Gellor set all of them straight.

"I have some small experience with them," he told his companions. "They are hybrid things, these losels are, that much is true. They're not human at all, though. The losel is a mixture of ore and boreamandrill – the thick-furred northern baboons of vicious nature and sly cunning. Once we encountered a small tribe of them in the Fellreev Forest, but at that time I thought them a sport confined to that place."

"How do you know that the perpetrators of this… foulness… are actually losels, as the lads seem to believe?" Gord asked. "There seem to be no clues here."

Now Shad had sufficiently composed himself to volunteer information. "It's the fingers – the losels take them," he managed to stammer. "That's just as we were told!"

"It's what I've seen before, Gord," agreed Gellor. "It seems that these fiends are here in the Vesve now too, and that points directly at a purpose. If Iuz didn't want these losels here, they'd never have crossed westward to this woodland from distant Fellreev – it's a hundred leagues and more from fl there to the beginning of the upper forest, and we're no more than in the center of the place now."

"Let's bury the remains," Chert said harshly, "so we can be looking to even the score a bit with these ore-apes."

Not long thereafter they were moving rapidly up the hard-packed earth of the trail. The five went northward, Chert trotting now well in advance of the others, Gord, likewise dismounted, served as the rear guard. Thatch and Shad rode behind the bard, clutching their weapons and looking grim. They were rapidly changing from carefree village lads to hardened men, and the three adults didn't like the manner of their forced maturity. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do to soften the shock of such experiences, and they knew that worse was in the offing.

About an hour after noon Chert ran back and signaled a halt. Gord hurried ahead to join the group and hear what the barbarian had to report.

"I got a glimpse of a foraging party ahead," said Chert. "About five or six rogues wearing forester's green. They didn't see me at all, though, for they were busy toting a stag they'd brought down. One of them was bitching about not getting a fair share of the kill, so I'd say that there must be a big bunch of his pals up ahead – not too far ahead, either."

Gellor didn't seem surprised. "This path is too hard and beaten to reveal much, although the marks of the horses some ride stand out clearly enough. Any idea how many there might be?"

"Not really," the barbarian said, "although the way the tracks are spread to either side of the trail, I'd make a stab at a party of more than a score – could be two or three times that many, though."

"Let's stay back for now," Gord suggested. "Tonight I'll see about finding a member of that bunch who'll tell us what we need to know."

Shad was puzzled. "How you do that, Master Gord? There aren't going to be any of them who'll want to talk to us to help us."

"They will after I bring them back here and persuade them a bit," Gord said in an offhand manner.

"Persuade?" queried Thatch.

"Sure!" Chert said to the boy with a wink, and then made a stabbing and twisting with his hand. "Persuade!"

Both boys looked greenish until they recalled the corpse of the woman these outlaws had left behind. Then they nodded sagely in agreement. "That sounds like a splendid plan," they chimed.

The five resumed their march, going more slowly now. Chert was on full alert for other foragers, stragglers, or a squad coming south to make certain the back trait was free of enemies. Whether by luck or carelessness on the part of the band they followed, there was no incident. Near dusk Chert and Gord changed places. The barbarian stayed behind with the horses and the two boys while Gord and Gellor moved on up the track to determine how close their enemies might be. Neither was unaware of the danger into which they were heading, but this didn't slow either one or inhibit their determination. At last they were coming to grips with the enemy, and it might well be the one whom they had sought so long at that. Only let it be sot

About a mile from where they had left their comrades and their horses, the two scouts heard noise, albeit faint sounds, that seemed to come from ahead and above. Gord peered in the direction of the rustling and muttering, being careful to conceal his body behind a tree bole. He saw movement. "Damn!" he said softly, pointing toward the leafy branches ahead as he did so.

"I see them," Gellor whispered in reply. Several manlike shapes were visible amid the upper portions of a pair of trees that stood on either side of the trail. "Losels – must be sentries," he mouthed.

Gord motioned, and both men retreated a few yards to where they couldn't be seen or heard by the arboreal guards.

"The main party must have called a halt for the night," Gord commented. "Even though most of them can probably see as well in the dark as in daylight, the dangers of attack by predators are great enough to make those bastards take shelter until dawn."

"I agree," Gellor said to his friend. "Do you still want to try grabbing one of them?"

Gord nodded resolutely. "Let's see about their precautions elsewhere. We can circle around to the left and work our way back here if possible. In the process we can take advantage of any weakness we find."

"Should we wait for full darkness?" the bard asked.

"That will come soon enough," Gord said, "and I am no more eager than those outlaws are to meet some night-prowling monster out after brigand or ore meat for a snack. You've more experience in woods such as these than I do, Gellor. What are we likely to meet?"