“Hush child, hush. Mama must do some work now. Why won’t you take a nap hmm?”
Rather than doing it myself, I saw my hand tap the girl’s forehead making her body go limp against my chest. Cradling her with both hands I let myself advance through the town’s gate into the smoke and fire. Black plumes arced into the sky accompanied by the crackling of burning houses and sickening sizzling of mutilated corpses.
Walking through the red sand I paused by a body I knew. Nehora. Old, wrinkled lady with a mouth so foul it made men cove their ears. The first one to accept me. The one who showed me how to cook. The midwife that took care of me. Her eyeless skull stared at me in an accusing manner while her limbless torso sat with its belly torn open. She was first of the many guiding my way towards the town center.
Their presence told me what to expect way before my eyes fell upon the town square.
A sea of corpses spread everywhere. Every inch of free land bore a body with large piles forming on the edges of the square. Chopped off pieces squelched underneath my feet.
“One more step beast and none of you shall see the morrow!”
Somebody screamed. It barely registered within my mind. In front of me a man kneeled with a blade on his throat. His body beaten so badly I would not recognize him had I not felt his aura. What they did to him… Each scar, each bruise and each cut were bought with blood of the attackers and he did not sell himself cheaply. Hundreds of black cloaked bodies littered the town but a single man could not hope to stop an army. There were thousands if not more, circling around the town, weaving a spell to ensnare us.
* I know you’re there, I can feel your fire burning within. *
A feeble thought reached my mind.
* I know you can hear me. *
* Take our daughter and go. Find a better place, away from this madness. *
“No…”
A whisper escaped my mouth. I will Not allow this!
* Don’t. You will die if you stay here any longer. *
* Remember when we met? You said I swapped the executioner’s axe for a dragon. That was the best choice I made in my life. *
* I love you. *
He raised his head and smiled. His last smile etched itself within my soul as I let my fire roar. He kept on smiling as I watch his body burn to dust alongside everything around us. And I let my fire roar, spread, engulf and burn everything to the ground. I let the fire burn until all the screams went silent. I let my fire burn till the sand became glass. I let it burn till there was nothing more to burn around us. All this time he kept on smiling without making a sound.
APATHY: CHAPTER 8–LADY OF THE LAKE
Well, I can’t really say everything went as usual. Most of the time I would wake up in the morning, go shave and wash myself then eat a sandwich. Possibly with ham, sometimes with cheese. After that I would get dressed, go grab a bus and start another day at work with same old crap to do. Now? I woke up with puffy, wet eyes, a milelong snot and a feeling… A feeling I forgot long ago. An alien feeling I should not have. I let it sink within the darkness of my mind while some local variety of creepy crawlies were sightseeing my chest cushions. I flicked those away but there was something missing in this morning silence.
“Erta?”
* These are not cushions you dolt… *
Much better. Although not as energetic as usual, Erta’s voice filled my mind.
* Are you not tired of this joke already? *
“Me? Tired? Never. I just fall flat on the sidewalk. I had so many footprints on my shirt when that happened for the first time. Had to throw away that shirt. Footprints and bubble gum don’t come off.”
She answered with a long and deep sigh. Probably shaking her head as well. That reminds me, I forgot to ask.
“Say, you never told me what’s that flame between your horns do?”
* It is a flash light. *
“Really?”
* No. Now before we go into more in depth discussion, be a good human dolt and go wash your face. Succubae with a runny nose is not a sight worth seeing. And stop playing with your snot. It is unladylike. *
I’m not a lady. Well, I wasn’t earlier but she just had to remind me of my loss and the fact that I was due for another “try not wet your own foot” challenge. In return, If I were to be cruel I would happily call “Yes mom” but logic told me it would only worsen her mood. Dealing with a gloomy dragon is troublesome enough and I had no reason to add anger on top of it. I shut my mouth, crawled out of my rocky bedroom and went behind a bush. Damn. I really need a manual. Today I managed to score both of my feet. Off for a bath we go.
“You still miss him, do you?”
My reflection told me my eyes were leaking again making me look like a pepper spray victim while green snot dangled round my knees. Great. Another point for being a tactful dolt.
* You saw… *
Saw what? A certain, grief stricken dragon roasting a whole valley with her flame? I ain’t going down that route.
“Not really. No.”
* Comforting lie that is. Your thoughts are like whispers in my ears while your memories stand before me. Although it is something I rather keep private, eventually you would learn of it. *
* Yes, I do miss him. The biggest human dolt of them all. There is not a moment when my soul would not yearn for him and even though those responsible are gone, I still have my sin before my eyes. Dreams like the one you witnessed, it is one of many. *
“I am sorry…”
* No, you are not. How can a stone understand what a bird soaring through the sky feels? You were taught how to use that phrase but in your lips, it is meaningless. *
* You feel no sorrow, no pain. Not even anger for your kin I’ve slain. You have a cold, cold heart. *
* Forgive me. I rant like an old woman. *
* Come, let us see the worth of that sword. *
Old woman? Nah, I wouldn’t call her that. Fat? Maybe…
* I am not fat you dolt! Never was! I am very well build and those are all muscles! *
No longer grumpy, Erta burned with anger. Still an improvement over the feelings her soul seeped in the morning. Should I turn it up a notch before we breach another uncomfortable topic?
“Well if you’re not fat then I must be an anorectic.”
Slapping my butt send waves spreading over my rump while my lovely cushions bounced with each step I took. Erta on the other hand…
* One more word you dolt, I warn you. One more word. *
…was a fine dragon. Large magnificent wings. Beautiful shining scales. And the eyes, I cannot describe the beauty of those blue eyes.
* Dolt, the sword. Get to it. *
“Yes ma’am. The sword. I’m on it.”
Dripping wet, my feet carried me away from the shore, back towards the pile of grime where the blade spend yesterday’s storm. It had no beauty to behold, save for the large piece of red tinted glass pretending a precious stone.
“Rust eaten junk. The blade’s bend and dented while the glass in the pommel’s cracked. For all I try, I cannot see why somebody would buy this.”
Nor could I see a reason to drag this junk around. Maybe in a distant past it looked like a decent longsword but right now tossing it back into the lake seemed like the best idea. Only if my puny arms were strong enough to do so…
* Do not give up so easily human. Perhaps all it needs is bit of mana to restore its splendor. With proper care, even this sword might recover its splendor. Grab the hilt and relax. I shall pure some mana into it. *
Pretending to be one of those medieval statues holding the sword, I stood letting my hands rest wrapped around it’s hilt. Whatever the handle was covered with, it disintegrated into a slimy paste that trickled through my fingers under my feeble grip.
“Was that supposed to happen?”
Erta ignored my remark and focused on, I have no idea what. I felt absolutely nothing. No tingling in my palms. No warmth in my hands. Whatever she did passed by unnoticed.
* Look at the stone. It is working. *
The stone? What for? There was nothing interesting in it… except maybe for the fact that it became liquid and meld itself together. No longer I could see the crack that once marked its surface. Fascinated, I watched as strange light spread down the blade. I watched as the blade shed its rust cover and straighten.
* Have I not told you human? With a bit of mana and proper skills, a magic sword shall recover its strength. Can you feel how light it become? Can you see how sharp the blade is? *
A bluish glow seeped from the edges. Something told me, running a finger alongside that edge might not be the best idea.
* Of course not! It can easily cut stone, not to mention flesh. We shall get a fair price off this one. *
Cut stone huh? Somehow the sword looked more on the edge of melting with each passing second although its weight did decrease considerably.
“Think I can try it? Cutting stone that is.”
* Try if you wish. *
Behind me a solid rock about a foot high and roughly circular in shape sunbathed without a care in the world. I pressed the tip of the sword against the top of the stone and watched as it sunk into the rock as if a hot knife sinking inside butter.
* A good sword indeed. Sold to a proper buyer shall fetch us enough gold for our journey. Perhaps if we find a town with an auction house we could get even more from it. Now, let us decide what to… *
“Erta, It’s stuck.”
* What?! Cannot be. Put your back to it and pull like a man you dolt! *
Even bracing myself with both legs against the rock did not help. My puny arms were no match for the stone.
* Try again! I will pour more mana into it. *
But even that did nothing. The rock refused to let go while the blade blacken and the stench of burning steel made my eyes water.
“Erta enough. I’m getting dizzy. Let it go.”
With a thud the ground hugged my panting body. There was no way to pull that thing out of the rock and besides, the more we tried the worse the blade become.
* Perhaps it was not a magic sword. *
Yeah, perhaps….
Leaving the smoldering remains behind, I gathered my meager belongings and marched towards the water. Morning toilet brake let me ascertain we were stuck again upon a tiny island, overgrown by more of the familiar poisonous shrubs. The smoke coming off the sword raised up in a tall black column and the fumes of molting iron made me cough.
“We should relocate, shouldn’t we?”
* Yes, that would be a prudent choice unless you wish to meet the owners of the boat coming from the east. *
A tiny black dot floated upon the lake in the direction Erta indicated.
“Back into the waves we go…”
We reached the shore by the evening of seventh day, a week after Erta roasted that junk grade sword. I swam with a backstroke and the duffle bag affixed to my chest while Erta made the necessary corrections to our course. Outside the fact that this body can remain awake for as long as it has access to mana, nothing interesting happened.
Erta brooded somewhere within. I can’t blame her. Before the “knife accident” I had my share of bad dreams.
“Hey skipper, think we can take a nap out here in the open? After a week of swimming those puny legs don’t seem too keen of the solid ground.”
Emerging from the water my body plunged face first into the sand.
* If you must. I cannot sense anyone within considerable range so it should be safe. *
I closed my eyes and a week of sleepless nights caught up with me within a heartbeat.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
* Recently you come here an awful lot, you dolt. *
“Well, you know what they say, you can’t suffer alone, somebody has to rub the salt in.”
I pat her large, scaly back. With a sigh Erta rolled over. Her large dragon arm swept me up and held pressed against her chest like a teddy bear.
“How’s the gardening going?”
* Why, just lovely. We have a perfect understanding. I ignore it and the crack doesn’t seem to spread. *
She might say that but I knew she spend hours, upon hours watching the weed grow. She was there when the sprout rolled out its first leaf and I am not surprised. There is nothing else to do within this hellish place. You either let your memories torment you or you may watch the sprout grow.
* Hush there. Teddy bears don’t talk. Or think. Your thoughts are too laud. *
“For an ancient, overgrown lizard, you suck at pretending.”
I rub her arm. The big baby wanted a hug so badly my mind had trouble deciding whether it were mine or her feelings. Suddenly Erta’s arm pressure increased considerably.
“Okay, okay. I got the memo. Please don’t turn me into a pancake.”
The pressure did not ease but in overall I could feel her mood lighten up.
* I like pancakes. They’re soft and squishy. *
Okay… Bad choice. Bad choice.
“Say, you’ve been experimenting with that enchant ever since my mana flow stabilized. Any progress?”
* Oh, it is done. Everything was in place, the witch left out only the trigger. I substituted that for an internal switch. With a bit of practice, you should be able to transform at will. *
“That’s the best news of this evening. I’ve started to miss the ability to aim…”
* Perhaps, but I would advise you against using that form unless it is entirely necessary. The design is subpar. You will lose access to many of the traits supplied by your current body, such as night vision. *
* Also there is something else I don’t like about it. A curse is mixed into the transformation spell. A very well hidden curse. *
* If I were to inspect you from the outside, I would not realize. I noticed it only because I tinkered with the spell itself. *
* I know not what it does nor why and the trigger conditions are one of the most complex I saw on a hex of this magnitude. *
“In short, there is a bottle of nitroglycerin mixed in the cogs of a machine, that may or may not explode upon turning it on. Am I correct on that?”
* I would say, more like a truck than a bottle but yes. Your assortment of the situation is correct. Now, be a good teddy and hug me already… *
Women and female dragons, I will never understand them. Pressing my cheek against her arm I pat her gingerly with my free hand. A sniffling dragon was squashing the rest of my body.
* Thank you. *
Lost in her arms, the night found me. Bearing whispers in the wind the dream crept upon us. Songs of the nightingale trilled through the calm of the night. For the warden came and grabbed her pain locking it deep, deep within the darkness of my heart. After so many years there was still space within that cold, cold place.
“Tell, tell, tell… You’re gonna tell her won’t you?
Of us, us, us…”
Whispers of red storm crept about within the red mist swirling around us.
“Be gone or I let loose the jailer.”
“You threaten us… She shall know!”
“Be gone.”
And the warden came with his frost covered boots. He went were the voices hid and the reddish mist split before him.
With my eyes closed I slept perched against Erta’s chest, warmed by her fire. There were no voices out there. There never been. Logic told me that, pouting out her black lips while a mane of red hairs covered eyes so scary even the jailer avoids her.
“Get to sleep already.”
Yes. I think I’ll do just that.
Sinking deeper into the Erta’s arm, I saw nothing and I heard nothing. Never again shall I set foot within the red mist.
The night passed without me noticing and like the morning bird greeting the dawn, the dragon’s voice recalled me from my slumber.
* You are not a morning person. Are you? *
“Don’t know. Why?”
* Because noon is fleeting and your bum had enough time to recover. Also, could you please take more care of your breasts as these are not cushions and your current pose brings a great deal of discomfort for your body. *
My assets were spilling sideways, crushed by my own weight.
Well, puny arms don’t fail me now! Starting with half a pushup I raised my torso, pulled my legs beneath me and gods know how I managed to attain more or less upright position. Good. Now only if the puny legs won’t fold…
“So, which way do we go?”
* Skipping breakfast, are we? *
“If you are implying I should go back into the lake and find myself another serving of that delicious green slime excrement then thank you but I’ll abstain. I may not be bothered by the taste but I do prefer my food looking like, well, food. Also, I do believe it is easier to digest when your meal stays still inside your stomach and doesn’t jump around.”
I could see it moving inside from the outside… As if I haven’t seen enough traumatizing stuff already.
* A fussy eater you are. Aquatic, green slime contains many vitamins and minerals. *
“The last one escaped out of the back. Alive and wiggling...”
And possibly looking for revenge.
* Your own fault. You should chew your food more carefully. *
“Pout all you want, I am not putting anything green and slimy in my mouth ever again. Which way?”
* West. *
“Okay, and the west is?”
* To your left. No, too far. Bit to the right. No, no, no. You are turning too fast… *
There must be a better way. As far as Erta could sense a proper direction, guiding me there proved difficult.
“Say, are you able to use illusion magic? Is there even something like this?”
* A magic to trick senses? Yes, there is. Basic and very popular. *
“Good. Can you show me an illusion?”
* Yes, I am able of such feat but what would be the purpose? *
“How should I break it to you, your directions suck. We’ve been walking in circles for the past hour, I can see our footprints in the grass.”
It would also explain why we spend a week swimming…
“Anyway, if you could show me something like a mini-map with our position marked by a dot or something, it would increase our chances.”
Of getting anywhere within a reasonable time. Or getting anywhere at all. I wouldn’t mind getting back into the safety of civilization.
* A mini-map? Ah yes. The so-called games of your world utilized this kind of ability. *
“Not only that, we had something called GPS that could guide you anywhere in the world. Now that I think of it, a GPS and some satellite maps of the area would ease our journey.”
I had to sit down as a sudden headache overwhelmed me. Erta took her sweet time sweeping through my memories, researching basics of navigation. Or rather whatever I knew of it. A rather profound nosebleed occupied me before she came up with a solution.
* Fascinating, I would not realize so much could be attained without magic. Indeed, some of the tools from your world would come in handy in our situation alas, this is a different world. *
“No mini-map for me?”
* No. I am afraid not. That what you ask for is beyond my current capabilities. Creating a reflection of our surrounding world in a form you could use as a map requires deep concentration and constant, active scanning of the area. Sending out that much of energy would equal to screaming, here I am come get me. It is something we should avoid. *
“So, we’re back to walking in circles…”
* Not necessarily. We may try to summon a spirit guide. Spirits have access to knowledge hidden from mere mortals. For a price, they are often willing to share it. *
“Is that safe? Eating those slimes was your idea and look how that ended.”
* It ended with you no longer being hungry. Your body recovered to a point where sparing some mana for a spirit will do us no harm. *
“All right. What do I do?”
* Nothing. Sit still and let me do the talking. A spirit is already here. *
“But I wish not to talk with you old hag, off you go.”
To my surprise the link between our minds shattered the moment I heard the cold voice. Behind me a spirit floated inches of the ground, her hairs sweeping grass all around her. With a figure even more tempting then mine, she sized me up with her inhuman eyes and spoke.
“Well, hume child, tell me your wish. What do you desire from the ruler of the seven winds?”
Ruler of the seven winds. Okay. That sounds important. She knows of Erta’s existence and is powerful enough to separate us. Not good.
“Can you take us where the Erta’s daughter is?”
“No. I cannot. That one does not wish to be found. She had formed a pact which precedes your wish. I cannot break it.”
Well it was worth a try and since she is not willing to break previous commitments I just might survive this.
“Before I tell you my wish can I ask you some questions?”
“Ask your silly questions human but do not measure my patience for I starve.”
“How come you’re here. I did not call you, o ruler of the seven winds.”
“I came to eat.”
Eat? What? As if already knowing my next question, she raised her arm, pointing at me.
“Delicious human. Speak your wish and sate my hunger.”
A sudden wind gripped me and swirling like a leaf brought my face before her. Okay. Not good at all.
“How did you find me, can others do so as well?”
“Yes, others can. You are a heavy burden upon this world. So much delicious mana… Your wish hume? Do not make me wait any longer!”
Restrained only by laws much stronger than her own power the spirit writhed inches away from me. Both pain and pleasure radiated from her face twisted in anticipation.
A way out of this mess. How should I…
“Actually, I have three wishes. Can you fulfill them all?”
Her eyes widen in ecstasy.
“Yes! Yes! Speak them all hume! I Shall grant them all!”
“Well then, my first wish is: You will refrain from granting me any wishes if paying the price would kill me or bring any harm to me.”
“My second wish is to protect me. Hide my mana from the others.”
“My third wish is for a spirit guide.”
“Hah cunning hume! You are mine! I will eat now! The price of three wishes I shall collect.”
With that she assaulted me. Her body warped itself around me as she pressed her lips against mine and sucked. Mana rushed out of me in a rapid stream. For a moment, she broke her kiss and let out a bone chilling laugh.
“Delicious hume, you are mine!”
Like a puppet, my body danced within her grasp as she played with it. Feasting upon me until I blacked out.
* Galen? Are you, are you all right? *
“No.”
I curled up in a ball trying to erase the memories of past few days the spirit took sating her hunger.
“Erta, No more spirits. No more slimes. No more anything that have even an ounce of “a bad idea” attached to it. Are we clear?”
* Yes. *
“How much mana did we lose?”
* Most of it. She left only enough to keep you alive. *
“What of the remaining wishes?”
* She fulfilled her part of the bargain. *
“Is that so? Good.”
* Galen, I am sorry. *
Tears were rolling down my cheeks. This time, were they mine?
* Is there anything I can do for you? No living being should experience… *
“Erta, please stop. I don’t… I don’t wish to discuss it. Let me rest for a bit.”
My eyes were heavy with tears and fatigue.
“Just for a bit…”
Nightmares of wind came and go, bringing me a night of restless sleep. Dirty, how dirty this body felt. So, dirty. And the merciless wind raged all around me.
Morning came like a thief when I least expected it, dousing my skin with a warm summer light. I stretched feeling light chested and… holy bananas… That’s the biggest wood I ever saw. And it’s mine. My precious.
* Forgive me Galen. I had to trigger the spell without your consent. You were… sleeping unsoundly. The change calmed you. *
“What? I don’t mind.”
I was busy marking a tree, aiming like a man should. It was refreshing.
“How long do I have?”
* Three or four days at best. There is not much mana left. *
“Then let’s get going while it lasts.”
Walking was much easier without the constant bouncing and, much safer. A naked male’s butt wasn’t as tempting as the one I previously had.
“How do I use the spirit guide or whatever else we got from that perverted entity?”
* Use the ring. It became an anchor for that spirit. Call upon it for directions and… something will happen. I think. *
“Something will happen. You do realize how that sounds.”
* Fear not. You are protected under a seal of the ruler of seven winds. No spirit will harm you. They wouldn’t dare. *
Erta spoke as if trying to convince herself. Call upon a spirit’s help eh?
“Guide me to the nearest town.”
Nothing happened.
* You need to say it with an intent. Also, the spirits love it when you add in some pleasantries. Be courteous. *
Courteous a?
“Yee who governs over seven winds, mistress of the gentle breeze, queen of the raging storm, hear my plea, guide me to the nearest town.”
Much to my surprise a ball of light gathered just above the ring and after a space no longer than a heartbeat, transformed into a fancy looking compass. At least that’s what it resembled. It had a large white shield with a meticulous dial painted on it, suspended within a set of spinning rings. As I turned, the dial kept on pointing in the same direction.
“What do you think?”
* That is about the way we should aim for. There is a large collection of individual mana gathered there. A town or perhaps a larger city lies in that direction. *
“Sounds good to me.”
With the arrow pointing me through the woods, we marched in silence. I could feel my companion was torn between being angry at me for calling her directions useless and between feeling guilty of what the spirit did. As much as her feelings annoyed me, I did not wish to breach the subject. We walked without passing a word.
About noon we came by a road going roughly in the same direction the arrow showed.
* Someone is approaching from the back. *
“A threat?”
* I do not believe so. A human, perhaps two, moving at a slow pace. Some sort of animal accompanies them. *
Two humans and an animal, moving slowly. Some villagers riding a wagon perhaps? Well, time will tell. I made sure the bag hung securely over my shoulder and marched on.
Later that afternoon as I was sitting on a stone, chewing a stringy plant Erta recognized as edible, the wagon caught up with me.
“What on ‘evens ‘appened ta ya lad?”
The driver yelled, stopping his wagon near me. On his lap a heavy crossbow rested, cocked and aimed at my chest. I raised my empty hands. There was only one reasonable answer.
“Bandits, sir. Stripped me of everything and had me run through the woods. Sir.”
The man burst out with laughter.
“Who yer callin ser, lad? Ma body ‘ave bout da same blue blood as da ‘oat shit.”
“Were ya hedin lad?”
“To town, sir. There is a town that way sir?”
“ Not for a day lad. On foot two days at last. Yer bag, ‘ave ‘nough supplies for two days there?”
“No, sir. Just a book and a knife.”
The sound of “a book” made him tighten the grip on his crossbow.
“Yer a magician?”
“No, sir. I am, I was a scribe in training. Reading, writing, counting.”
“Was?”
“Yes, sir. Master had a horny daughter and a busty wife. One day after giving his daughter green gown just outside the town I went drinking with pals. Drank too much, mistook the room. Half the night I’ve been ploughing the wrong field and realized only when master barged in with his daughter.”
“He wanted to loose me my head but the lady said she will loose him his flappy if he lay a finger on me.”
“The daughter cried but they kicked me out the next day. Lady insisted I stayed and finished what I started.”
“I grabbed what I had and skipped towns. Last one I been to had no work for me. Too many friends of the old master.”
“Thought I try in another one but along the track bandits happened and here I am, sir. Flapping my spear in the wind.”
The crap I can tell with a straight face…
“You plough ‘em both lad?”
“Till they screamed, sir. Hard and steady.”
He studied my face then his eyes traveled down to my groin.
“Yer one lucky...”
Overtaken by an uncontrollable laughter, he put down his crossbow.
“H’ere, Cover that birdie lad or it might fly away.”
“What yer yappin at? Tuck it in and hoop on. We ain’t got ‘ol day.”
“Sir, thank you sir!”
The leather pants he thrown at me fit to a degree while a strap prevented them from sliding down. I think I could squeeze in my twin brother, if I had one, into those pants with me but a given horse, even toothless is still a gift. So, no complaining.
“H’ere.”
He pat the bench next to him. Riding shotgun it is.
“Thank you again, good sir. I don’t know what would I do without your help.”
“Ye’d rot by da ‘ol road and feed da birdies yer scrawny ass. Got any name lad?”
“Lansam Fetherbutt.”
Because why not. A scribe needs some feathers. Erta chuckled enjoying the show. We had come to an agreement earlier. In case we meet someone, the less people knew about us the better. No real names whatsoever. According to her, real names had real power in this word.
“F‘eather-Butt! Ya ‘eard him? Ha! Yer ‘ol man a ducker? Fair trade. Me gramps been a ducker his ‘ol life. Fair trade I tell ya.”
“Don’t know sir. Never met him.”
“I piss on yer ser!”
He spat sideways.
“Da name’s Tansen, Ir Tansen. No dam sir! I piss on da caked up Sers. L’in bunch a thieves ‘n ‘ores. Sold ‘er mother fer gold if da could.”
So far silent, the man sitting behind us cleared his throat.
“What?! Ever met a fair noble ya tin can?”
“Pay him no heed. Da man a pala-din-ding… Noble ass lickers.”
“I serve only the Gentle Lady and her holy light!”
The paladin rose as if from a whip smack and stared daggers at Tansen. His knuckles crackled round his weapon’s handle.
“Ya serve ten silver a day coz yer O’der want squat with you! Sit on yer rusting ass and do what ‘em paying ya for!”
Grating his teeth the paladin sat and watched over the horizon. In silence we left the woods and rode along through endless grasslands.
* Beautiful, is it? *
Everywhere around us, knee deep grass swayed and danced in the wind. Waves after waves rolled over the silent green sea. Above us a lonesome, puffy cloud sailed through the azure sky. There were no cars, no planes to break this charm. Lulled by the sweet breeze and rhythmic clomping of the oxen, I dozed off.
“Lad,”
A hand with an iron grip shook me out.
“mind da road.”
He shoved me the rein as if it was something natural and scrambled over the wooden boxes towards the back of the wagon where he dropped his pants and shat.
Accompanied by an orchestra of farts and groans we drove onward, silently praying the wind would not change its direction. The oxen did a good job minding themselves and followed the white sandy path without any input on my side.
“Ha! N’ottin better than freeing a big one on da track, eh?”
He elbowed me in the ribs.
“Sure is. Sure is.”
I returned while Erta added few words of her own. Even though no one else heard her, the paladin’s face spoke the same thing.
“They’re slowing down. Should we take a rest?”
We drove nonstop since they picked me up and the day was already ebbing. Erta complained about my ass going numb while the oxen rancid sweat condensed and became an entity in its own right.
“Yer, gimme that. We ain’t stoppin till the stone.”
He pulled the rein and cracking a whip made the oxen summon their reserves.
Pushing through the evening we arrived within a small stone circle crowning one of the many hills. Although if I were to be correct the name of the place did not come from the circle itself but rather from the enormous boulder sitting in the center.
Many years ago, somebody no longer remembered, hollowed out that stone. Or maybe it was hollow to begin with and humans adapted it for their needs? A small square entrance been cut in a smooth side of the oval stone, large enough to fit a wagon.
Tansen fiddled with the iron grate barring the entrance. Once he whacked the old lock into submission, he pushed the iron bars aside and pulled the wagon in.
“Make yer self useful lad.”
He tossed me a pouch and nod at a pile of wood under the wall. The logs looked rather heavy. All I could do was hope the male version of the puny arms would fare better. Not so much.
Clearing the fireplace and setting up the wood took me long enough to earn a scorn look of the paladin as he climbed the ladder cut in the stone to the opening in the roof.
* Do you not find peculiar the behavior of our companions? Look at the thickness of the bars in that gate. Without magic even I would have trouble ripping it out of the stone. *
That and the sudden haste they put into securing the entrance. Why would it need triple locks and the chain atop of it? Why would they seal the only gate with a leather curtain? To block the light? What for?
* That is an answer I would not seek. Whatever can make a paladin reek of fear is nothing we should meet. For our own sake, make that fire started. *
Easier said than done. Instead of tender and flint I expected, the fire starter kit I received contained a mushroom shaped wax seal and a tiny hammer with a ball tip.
* Place the seal against a log with the rune facing the wood and strike it with the hammer. Pick that short log in the middle. It will use less mana and should get the fire started. *
Not sure what to expect, I did as ordered and to my surprise, the moment the hammer met the seal a warm yellow flame engulfed the log then quickly spread over the rest of the wood. Nice. Beats matches every day. Especially in the windy ones.
* Yes, and burns so much mana that nobody does it unless he or she has to. You’ve been cheated by that old fox. *
Well if she knew a head’s up warning would been nice.
* Sometimes the best way to learn you should not touch a hot kettle is to get burn by it. *
Learn by experience. Nice old idea, trouble is some lessons could kill you.
* That I would not allow. Also abstain from talking to me. That paladin sure feels something is off. He does not like us. His intuition or his gift from his goddess is at play. So far his fear of the outside is clouding his judgment but that may change. I will be watching but do not seek me. *
* Sleep soundly and do not exert yourself. *
Her presence faded away.
“Good job lad”
Tansen pat my arm and freed my hands of the pouch he had given me.
“Yer should work on yer stamina lad. Yer pale as a frozen tit! Here, drink.”
He tossed me a slushing sack. Inside contained a sweet smelling liquid. I took several gulps and felt the heat spreading through my body. Mead. Not the one I’ve used to drink with Sam but still mead. Spiced up with some herbs I could not name and terribly sweet. I took one more mouthful. A trace of walnut perhaps?
“On me balls lad! Leave some for others!”
Maybe I should. The stuff turned out much stronger than anything I had in years. My memories of that night in the stone end with me chewing a piece of some badly burned meat.
“Get up lad, wer livin.”
Tansen’s bear like hand slapped me out of my slumber.
“Tuck yer woody in and eat. Wer movin when da mist lift.”
He dumped a bag of armor next to my head.
“Orsen, get yer ass in ‘ere and help the kid.”
I pulverized the remains of a fat chicken leg and let the paladin dress me. The leather pants I received were soon joined by a leather vest and a sturdy boots. Atop of that came chain mail. Pants and a shirt. Orsen took a great deal of time securing all flappy parts with leather straps so there was nothing dangling left to grab on. Last came the full plate gloves and a helmet. He also wrapped a stinking fox pelt tightly round my neck.
“They love biting that part from behind. Keep your neck hidden.”
“If we have to fight, stick to the road and open space. Do not wander off. We deal only with those close by.”
“They are slow and stupid but their strength comes in their numbers. Take only one at a time.”
“They won’t bite through the mail but a hundred of them will stomp you into the ground and squeeze your guts through your ears.”
“Do not allow yourself to fall. You fall, you are done. You’ll stay behind.”
“If they grab your shield, break their arms away with your club while you still can.”
“If They surround us. Get on the wagon.”
“Also, as tempting it may be, do not kick them. Do not stomp on them and don’t even try to headbutt them. You have the club, use only that. It’s tied to your wrist so you won’t drop it. Aim for the head or anything else that glows blue.”
He affixed the iron club to my wrist and tugged at the shield to make sure I knew what to do when the time came. Meanwhile, Tansen finished dressing up his oxen. We all looked the same, covered with half an inch of iron and as much leather as possible. The added weight made my movements cumbersome but I scrambled onto the wagon, panting. The oxen on the other hand behaved as if nothing changed. The added mass of their armor did not bother them. They found the road and set out in a light trot.
Noon came and went by in complete silence. Compared to yesterday my companions were tense and alert to the point that every occasional rustle in our surroundings made their heads turn. There were no jokes cracked, no stories told. We rode watching the emptiness of the grasslands, scouting for danger.
“Lad, beyond da hill ‘es citty of Ever’oot. Yer ain’t shat yer pants yet so, me thinks yer do good but be warned at what yer see beyond that hill.”
Tansen spoke as we crept over the hill.
The first that reach us was perhaps the smoke followed closely by the stench of hundreds of burning bodies. Beyond the hill indeed a city stood. Surrounded by tall walls with heavily armored gates and a moat. Around the moat, here and there a large pyre blazed, sending columns of smoke over the island.
* I remember that stench! *
Erta’s feelings of disgust filled my mind. We stopped. There were people shambling about the bridge we were to pass.
“Yer see lad, Ever’oot a fair place. But it ‘eve an itsy trouble issiue.”
“That is not what you said!”
Orsen yelled from the back.
“The whole place is overrun with the undead!”
“Nah. The city’s fine. The town’s watch ‘eeps clearing ‘em over. They set up the pyres where they burn ‘em. All yer need ta do ‘es get us near da gate.”
“Now off yer go yer morons. Do yer job and clear that fookin bridge!”