"Anyway, as I was saying," Waulox continued. "I sealed the hand in a jar to preserve it, excited to display it front and center in the shop as the main attraction." Waulox stopped and inhaled deeply. "That's when things started to get peculiar. People noticed the oddity in my window and would often collect in groups to gawk at it. Customers would come into the shop and ask about it often. Most would cringe when I told the story and find their way quickly out the door. Soon, it turned into a curse for business, a deterrent to my surprise, even for the unusual tastes of those an establishment like mine seems to draw. Rumor had spread that I had killed a bloodskin and taken her hand. People are frightened about the stories of bloodskin women turning into beasts and to see it before their eyes unnerved them. I decided to keep it hidden away under the counter in a drawer and only bring it out if someone asked to see it.
"This helped a little. Business got somewhat better as the gossip of the bloodskin hand waned. Out of sight out of mind and all. They went on to gossip about other things. However, I noticed a strange pattern of misfortunes occurring more frequently than seemed natural at the counter when I'd count coins and tally up customers' purchases. Also, an alarming number of accidents occurred, always near the counter. My nephew Royne worked in the shop back then and I often let him work the counter and exchange coin with customers. He fell and broke his ankle not once but twice while cleaning the counter and cut his hand several times opening the coin tins and dropping glass jars over the counter. I myself took a puff of fool's itching powder in the eyes trying to bag it up for a group of prankster children. That very week I ripped my thumb nail clean off trying to wedge a copper coin out from the wood crevices of the drawer where I kept the hand. I was highly suspicious at this point, but it wasn't until the next day I was wiping down the counter, and I swear it was as polished as a king's boot but a thick spear of wood splintered off the corner and ran right through the bottom of my palm. I still got the scar from that one. Right here, see?" Waulox held up his hand to show off two raised triangles of scar tissue, an entry and an exit wound both on the lower muscle of his palm that connected with his thumb. "While my hand still bled, I snatched up that jar with the bloodskin hand and locked it down here in that back room."
Kazimir veered off his eyes for a second, staring into space. "Wow! That's a crazy story. So, nothing has happened since? No chain of accidents or strings of ill luck?"
"It's been just fine as long as that thing stays down here. Perhaps being below ground level nullifies the effect. I'm not certain."
"Why keep it then? If it is cursed? I mean I'm assuming you believe there is some sort of magic attached to it?"
"Indeed, there is. No doubt about it. I keep it because I didn't want to pass the curse on to others. I'm somewhat of a caring fellow. It could be dangerous. Also, if you hadn't noticed I have trouble parting with things. My collection upstairs is a rather difficult maze."
Kazimir wanted to put his hands together here, always when he was about to ask for something he probably shouldn't, he would clasp his hands on the table before him. Instead, he chose to grasp his hand around his stump and lean forward. "Wallow, my friend. Would it be an indiscretion if I were to ask if I may take this burden from your cellar? To study. So much could be learned about the ravnaz bloodskin race. I mean it has cost you so much already."
Waulox frowned and started pulling at the whiskers on his chin again. "You want it? To take it with you when you leave?"
Kazimir made a half-smile and turned up his hand in a gesture of mild self-criticism.
Waulox sighed. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. If you were near it, you're fortunate you haven't been afflicted already."
"I know I couldn't pay you the unimaginable price you paid for it, but I thought in light of the advancement of science, you might consider it," said Kazimir. "I couldn't let myself leave without at least posing the question after hearing your story."
Waulox chuckled. "Oh dear, I suppose I left that part out. Mott never returned after that night. He took his one hundred gold and I never saw him again. I began to understand why over time. Possibly he was frightened to be near it again. Possibly the damage of him having it in his possession had already taken a darker turn than it had for me and Royne."
"This doesn't sound very good, master. Maybe you should just leave it here with Mirza Pernudrom," said Xolin. "He seems to know more about it than we do."
"It sounds exciting to me!" Gretta chimed in. "Traveling with something so important."
Nochtli said nothing. Kazimir knew him to be the least superstitious of his two pupils. He would want to study nearly as bad as Kazimir did.
"I don't mean to invalidate your story," said Kazimir, "but I'm not a superstitious man, Mirza Purnudrom. Most Belazonians aren't. I don't believe in such things as bad luck charms."
"Well, then, live your life on the edge if you must." Waulox glanced down at Kazimir's stump. "It seems you must be that sort of man. I like you, Kazimir!" Waulox said then with a big smile. "I know it's a bit early to feel this way, but I trust your intentions and you know the risk. You have my permission to take it with you. The one-hundred gold I spent on it is no longer as important to me."
Kazimir could hardly contain his excitement. He wanted to leave out right away with it before the man changed his mind, but he knew he should stay another day at least. Being on the road with his wound so fresh on the mend could create a dire situation.
30
AEILE
Aeile ran into the town square.
She veered left and right, bumping into the morning folk milling about. Familiar fragrances of fresh swordfish and giant crab lingered under her nose. The last time she traveled through she couldn't wait to visit the fresh seafood deli. Now, the smell of it triggered pangs of nausea. This was one more thing gone from the life she once had. She didn't know what to do next, but she knew she needed to find a way home as fast as possible. She had no coin to pay and knew very few people in Red Fish Town enough to ask for that kind of favor.
The sun crested over the eastern horizon off the coast of Eurovoth. It stung her skin. She knew the burn would become more intense. She thought the best thing to do first was find a cloak of some kind.
She scanned across the cobblestone area which spanned about fifty paces from one side to the other. Vendors had thatched their carts in a huge square in the center, leaving the shops and official buildings easy access from passers-by. This early in the morning Red Fish Town was a hive of fisherman, merchants, and craftsman all in a jostle. The people hustled as fishing and trade ships began to port and sail out over the Targuire Sea. Who would be here this early that might know her? She could think of no one's name but often got her boots repaired by a fat little cobbler with greasy black hair. His shop was in the far easternmost corner of the square. As many people there were cramming back and forth, it would take her a long time to get over there.
Did she have that long before the pain became unbearable? It seemed to have happened rapidly when she first emerged from the cave, but she hadn't fed yet. Just thinking about it as feeding disgusted her. From now on she would not call it that. She would think of it as something that would remind her not to become someone who enjoyed inflicting pain. Could she still be herself as de Nekros? She would damn well try.
Her wickedness.
She would think of it as facing her wickedness. A purging of some kind. She had never been all good, anyway, though she's made her best effort when she could. She had done questionable things. Nothing as cruel as de Nekros, but she was not a spirit without fault herself.
Thinking of her spirit gave her an idea. She had never been highly religious, but she had prescribed to the doctrines of the Forest Father when in need of comfort. Her parents had been followers of the Forest Father all her life. There was a Shrine of Nature in Red Fish Town a few blocks from here that they used to frequent. She could go there and talk to a Forest Priest and ask them to take her in a carriage to her home to save her sister'
s life. They would protect her from harm. Should they rise and regenerate, Nazurek and Igneious would never suspect her hidden in a Forest Priest's carriage. They were de Nekros. It was only a matter of time before their flesh mended, and they tracked her down.
After much difficulty slipping through the crowd, she made her way to the south end of the town square and started jogging her way to the Shrine of Nature. Followers had built it over a stream in a waterfall cove on the outskirts of town. She would have to jog about a mile in the sun. The bare skin on her hands, arms and face burned like a hard slap already. Her leg muscles still held strong even though she'd ran about two miles into town already. Another thing she attributed to de Nekros.
There were perks indeed, but at what cost? She sped up her pace more and more until the landscape on either side of her blurred by. Voices and animal sounds like dogs or chickens whirred passed her in brief quips. She must've been running faster than any human had ever run. Within a minute she could see the Shrine of Nature in the cove.
A ring of nine large white granite stones surrounded the dome structure. Each stone stood over twenty feet high. Intricately braided trees made up the dome. The trees grew denser as they spiraled and entwined their leaves all the way to the top where they exposed a circular skylight opening.
The rocky stream broke right through the center of the braided tree dome. It was the only entrance to the Shrine of Nature. She placed each foot carefully onto the stepping stones in the stream that led one inside. It was a symbolic act of cleansing to walk upstream into the Shrine. The water was perfectly clear, and she watched orange and blue fish zipping away from each rock as she landed her foot. Once within, she marveled for a moment at the beautiful scenery of the living tree dome above, glinting with tiny specks of sunlight that wiggled with the breeze.
The Shrine of Nature was scarcely populated today. Among the stones scattered across the black soil, only three followers sat entranced in meditation: an elderly man, and two women dressed in the traditional grass weave garments. Near the bank of the stream, she found a middle-aged Forest Priest dipping a ceremonial wooden bowl into the water and drinking. He had on a robe made from knotted grass lace and trimmed with gray rabbit pelts. He had let his sandy blond hair grow out past his knees and mat up into dreadlocks.
"Greetings forest sister!" he said to her when she was near. "What brings you to the Shrine? The Forest Father is here and caresses our hearts to heal you beneath the leaves. I am Noth, Forest Priest, a First Root of the Wisdom." He offered her a drink from his bowl.
"Um, no thank you, but I do have a need, a very desperate one, and it's urgent," she said. Aeile kept rubbing her forearms, trying somehow smooth away the pain.
"How can I be a service, forest sister?" Noth curled an arm around her shoulders. He smelled of mint and tree resin.
She winced and said, "My little sister is dying of a terrible disease. I have traveled far and found the remedy, but I fear she will die soon if I cannot find a faster, less draining method than my feet." If only he knew what she meant by 'draining'.
Noth tilted his head as if listening to the gentle babbles of the water breaking over rocks in the stream bed. "How far is your sister from here?"
"It's just outside of Kilawon. At least a day's travel on foot. A carriage could make it by dusk, I think."
"Actually, I'm scheduled to leave out on the morrow for Kilawon to pick up a Forest Adjunct transferring from there. She is trying to move up to the next Root of Wisdom. It would be well-to-do if I left out early, I suppose to help save a sapling sister. I would be glad to do it in the service of the Forest Father."
"Really?" She smiled, making slight frowns when she got another flash of pain. "That's so--," she groaned through clamped teeth. The tiny speck of sunbeam needled her skin. "That's so gracious of you! I will come to service as much I can from now on. I've fallen lax in my devotions and I've not meditated in over a year." A small lie. It had been a few years.
Noth gave a slight nod with a sluggish blink. "I understand, sister. This is what happens with many, but they always return in time. The Forest Father reaches out to them in many ways. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Aeile took a deep breath. "A cloak maybe?" She blushed. "I have a very sensitive skin condition to sunlight."
Noth eyed her neck and hands. His brows knitted together, the tendons in one side of his neck tight. "You appear to have some hives. Might you be susceptible to hay fever? It is spring, you know. There are those who get seasonal colds and skin rashes."
"Possibly, I suppose." She shrugged, fanning herself. "I just deal with it most times, I guess."
"Well, we can't have you in a straw cloak then for sure. I think I have a nice linen cloak in my lodge upstream. It's a bit faded but still a nice olive color."
This seemed too good to be true. But maybe it wasn't as she couldn't deny the inner flashes she was having of his reddened face in tears or thoughts of hearing his voice bellow for mercy. My wickedness, she thought. There it whispers and taunts me.
Just under an hour later she sat within his carriage in the olive-green linen cloak he'd given her. The carriage had enough space for six within and the windows had shutters which Aeile had latched when she got in. Noth sat atop the carriage driving six brown and gray spotted horses. They were beautiful animals, and she had told him so.
She sat in near-complete darkness. Tiny slivers of light flickered between the cracks of the shutters. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and the interior of the carriage sharpened into a strange colorless view. She had enhanced vision. She wondered if it was costing her to use it. She hadn't incited it. Her eyesight had simply adjusted. She wished the seats had been a little more comfortable. The entire carriage had been chiseled and assembled from crudely cut wood. She kept pulling splinters up from the edges of the bench seat. There had been no, or very little, sanding. Ass shaped dips in the wood polished by years of seated passengers were the only comfort.
She thought about trying to sleep, but her mind would not let her. She mostly thought of Sheile, the bag of white mariheema on the bench to her side. She kept the top of the bag laced tight and in her fist. She wouldn't let go after coming this far. She tried not to think about Nazurek and Igneious though the noise of passing carts and travelers on the road became more frequent as they neared Kilawon. She had a terrible thought then. She had been in such trauma; she had forgotten that she still would need to make a tincture from the mariheema. She knew a bit about how to do it, but Nazurek had said it was a delicate process. What if she ruined it?
As her craving swelled within her, her mind flooded with anxious thoughts. She began to wonder suddenly if Nazurek could see through her eyes the way she looked through Sheile's. He would know where she was, or at least that she was in a carriage. He'd said something about it being someone you loved, but how did she know he couldn't do it anyway? They said de Nekros manifests differently in everyone, with different side effects. She hunched over and held her gut, the bag of mariheema still in her clutches. An intense stabbing pain jabbed behind her eyes, and she discovered she was grinding her teeth.
The carriage slowed. Noth shouted a yep at the horses, and they came to a stop. There was no way they had made it close enough to Kilawon for him to be questioning her for further directions. She had already gone over it with him before they left, and he'd seemed to understand. This stop was for something else.
"Well, what's the tree fucker doing out'n about on the road in the middle of nowhere?" called a male voice echoing from far ahead. "Who ya got in'a carriage? Any sweet young pussy for us poor hard workin' lads? Or old pussy, either will do, we've been stressed out all day and wouldn't mind a granny sucking all our cocks for passage on our road here!"
Aeile bit down on her lip. She imagined the male voice screaming.
"Good forest brothers, please!" said Noth. "We have a desperate situation! Lives are at stake and time is against us! Please allow us to pass!"
"We will! No probl
em at all! But if you ain't got no pussy in there, then you might have'ta suck our cocks!" said the man. "We've a desperate situation as well! If time's against ya, you'd best muster up some spit and get down off that carriage!"
Aeile sighed and stepped out of the carriage. She had the mariheema in one hand and her dagger in the other. She saw five dirty looking men no older than mid-twenties standing across the road, four of them with bows nocked with arrows and one holding an arming sword. They all wore mismatched banded and ringmail armor. She could smell them and almost taste their imminent suffering. "I got the best pussy you'll ever have right here! Come and get it!"
31
IVANOS
Vendronia approached the cage with Borlin towering at her side.
It was mid-morning. The seagulls squawked in droves overhead. There seemed to be more of them than previous mornings. Ivanos had counted many more fish splashes near the shore. His eyes hurt from squinting in disgust every time he glanced at the horde of buzzing flies breeding in Vendronia's dried vomit. They had released her the night before.
"Good morning!" said Vendronia. She stood just outside the cage with her arms crossed. She seemed in healthier spirits than when Ivanos had seen her last. "I've talked to the Varl and Yurka and all the high-ranking commanders of the trog army. We're letting you out!"
Ivanos perked up his brows.
"It is true, cuck," said Borlin. "But you must walk with the guards at your side for a while."
"V... V... V... V-Very well," Ivanos said, his voice scratchy. He'd finished his waterskin late last night and slept little. He needed more water and a bath. A bath sounded so nice.
Borlin unlocked the padlock securing a chain wrapped several times around the crude sapling door, removed the chain and pulled the cage door wide open. "Come on out--"
The Vanguards of Scion Page 20