The Elven (The Saga of the Elven, #1)

by Bernhard Hennen

flesh, as the man himself would be soon enough. In anger, he kicked at the rock outcrop. Nothing. As if his feet were not even there. But he could still walk. It was just a matter of will, and of being very careful where he stepped. He looked back fearfully. The manboar had moved out onto the snowfield. It seemed to be in no hurry. Did it know this was the only way to the cliff top? There was no way for Mandred to escape, but he had never intended to get away with his life anyway. If he could just light the fire, then nothing else would matter. A noise caused him to start. The beast emitted a deep growl. Mandred had the feeling that the manboar was looking him straight in the eye. At this distance, of course, that was impossible, but still . . . something brushed his heart like a chilly draft. The jarl hurried. He had to hold on to his lead. To light the fire, he would need time. His breath was whistling. When he exhaled, there was a light, tinkling noise, like icicles jangling against