The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything

by Susan Skylark

  Chapter 9

  Tristan wandered aimlessly in the darkness and wept bitterly. He found a rocky shelf on the edge of a still pool and flung himself down beside the water. His tears made small splashes in the pond and the full moon hung in mocking reflection just above his tormented face. He lay there for some time weeping for the loss of his best friend and truest companion. He glanced again at the unfeeling reflection of the moon, wondering how it could shine so gaily in the face of such tragedy. When he looked again, he was looking not at the moon but into the face of the Master himself. There was love and compassion in his eyes, but also the authority of one who had the power to make the worlds spin or stop according to his whims.

  “Why do you weep?” he asked.

  “I weep for one I have lost, as dear to me as mother, sister, or wife,” said Tristan.

  “You do not weep for her, for you know you have not lost her,” replied the Master quietly. He continued, “you weep for yourself. You know she runs free in the lands beyond mortal woes: far beyond all pain, care, or worry. You also know you shall meet again when your work is done. Why do you weep? Why do you weep when you have not lost her, you are merely parted for a time? Now gather what strength and courage you have and go. Evil is stirring and the light grows faint. There are many crying out for what only you and your Brothers can give. Find them and stop the fall of night. You do not ride alone, for I ride with you. But the battle is yours to fight, I can lend you strength and aid, but only you can conquer this evil tide. I stepped in once, but I will not do so again until the end of time. Weep no more. Take my peace, my joy, and my confidence, and ride out to conquer the foe that rises in the West.”

  The light dimmed a little, but was still brighter than the moon had a right to be. It was still a unicorn’s head reflected there, but his eyes held only love and concern, not the power to unmake worlds. The horn was shorter and of silver not of gold; it was a unicorn of the mortal race. At first Tristan’s heart leapt for joy at the thought that his beloved Aria had returned, for the noble head held much resemblance to hers, but further inspection revealed a bearded chin marking this a stallion. Tristan turned his head and found a great white stallion staring him in the face. He recognized him now as Taragon, Aria’s eldest foal. He flung his arms around the great neck; the noble animal placed his head on the crying Brother’s back. For some time they held this position each taking comfort in the other’s presence. After some while, Tristan climbed weakly onto the great back and clung helplessly to the mane. The valiant beast ran as swift as the wind and as softly as a shadow through the moonlit woods: splashing through silver creeks and dodging the boles of ancient trees. Not a leaf stirred in their passing. In the early watches of the night, they rode together to the gates of Astoria. They entered the city which stood silent as the grave. Only the guards noted their passing. In the courtyard of the castle stood the Lady. Tears glinted silver in her eyes. Tristan dismounted and she laid a hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head in thanks and together they walked silently into the keep.

  The greatest gift a unicorn can give its master is its very life. Tristan had suffered a mortal blow, but was not quite dead. Aria arrived in time and took the wound unto herself and died from it, but Tristan was completely healed save for being weak and tired. He could not continue in the Order after the night’s events. It was decided that he and Pallin would head west in search of this rising evil of which the Master. The five other apprentices would remain in Astoria under the command of Dresden and would ‘officially join’ the Order and be the first official garrison in Astoria for the Order. Tristan wrote a letter detailing his resignation, the murder attempt by Brisbane who was facing execution under Astorian law, and the decision of the five young men to join the Order. He also requested that Bristol be sent as the new emissary to Astoria and that he be put in charge of the ‘garrison.’ Tristan rested for a few weeks, briefed Bristol when he arrived, said his goodbyes, and then he and Pallin headed into the Utter West.

  The uttermost west was a mysterious land between the Western Sea and the Impassable Mountains. While the Wildlands in the North were untamed and sparsely populated, this far western land was inhabited but there was very little exchange of news or goods with the rest of the known world because of the treacherous mountains that effectively isolated that country. The mountains could be navigated during the warmer parts of the year, but the passes were narrow and only men on foot, single file on horseback, or a with a mule train could pass through. The mountains were also home to mysterious and sometimes evil creatures that flourished in wild and lonely country. Bandits often lurked in the narrow places preying on those that dared make the journey. The goods that did manage to pass over the mountains were considered luxuries due to their rarity and were highly sought after by the rich and powerful. Rumors and stories abounded of that far land, but few had ventured forth and even fewer had returned to tell of it. The truth remained elusive, but each tale told was stranger and darker than the last. The Lady had tried sending emissaries over the mountains but none had ever come back and no word had ever reached her of their fate. She was hesitant to send Tristan, but he was determined to go. All could see that evil was growing all over the known world and sense that something worse was imminent though none knew what. The uttermost west was the perfect place for something terrifying to brood and grow until it could sweep the world away into darkness. Someone had to go.

  Tristan and Pallin set out as soon as they could, hoping to pass the mountains in mid-summer when the chances of becoming trapped by foul weather were least. It would take a month of hard riding just to reach the mountains themselves. Each man had a packhorse loaded with the supplies they would need on the cross-country journey. They would restock before crossing the mountains. Bristol had arrived to take over 'the garrison,' though he was not happy to learn that he would have to double-check everything he did with the Lady first. As long as he was leading men on Astorian soil, he had to abide by the laws of the Brethren. He was however very glad to see Tristan again, though grieved about his encounter with Brisbane. He wished Tristan well on his journey (though he doubted the sanity of it) and promised to serve the Lady as best he could. Though Tristan had officially resigned from the Order he packed his spare uniform though he was not exactly sure why. The Lady bid them goodbye and watched sadly as they rode off towards the evening, wondering if she would ever see them again.

  They camped most nights on their trip, but occasionally they had the chance to stay at an inn along the way. Their first such stop was at the very inn at which Pallin had been the stable boy so many months before. It was a strange experience for him to sit in the common room as a guest at table, rather than to sit alone in the dark stable hoping there would be a few scraps left for his supper. Of course no one recognized him as he had grown and filled out and was no longer dressed in rags. Tristan's heart went out to the poor urchin who currently filled Pallin's former post. Pallin could only stare in wonder at the starving boy that had once been him. They spent an uneventful night and were on the road again early the next morning. As they rode, Pallin asked, "why did we not pick up that poor boy and take him with us?"

  Tristan smiled ironically and said, "because he is far safer there than we may be very soon. We help those we can, but there is so much need and suffering in the world that one person cannot do everything, and trying to do everything will only beggar you or drive you mad. Each of us needs to take responsibility for those things we can change for the better, and if enough people acted accordingly the world would be a much better place." They rode on in silence. They arose early each morning and rode as far into the evening as they could. The days began to lengthen allowing more time in the saddle each day. They traveled by main roads as often as they could, and only stopped to water or rest the horses or sleep for the night. Two plainly dressed men crossing the known world from East to West through civilized country cau
sed little comment and no concern. The world was still fairly peaceful and travelers went frequently to and fro on their own business. It was a pleasant ride, though long, and they were weary of travel by the time they reached the Last Chance Inn at the base of the Impassable Mountains.

  Tristan decided to rest a bit before tackling the mountains. The unicorns could go on, but the packhorses could use a rest as much, if not more than the men. The inn was pleasant, though small and the staff very curious (they did not get many travelers planning to head over the mountains). Tristan simply said they had a wish to see what was on the other side and if there really was anything so mysterious about the land between the mountains and the sea. They spent five days at the inn during which they restocked their supplies and made ready to head over the mountains. The innkeeper and all his family and staff gathered to see them off and thought they might be the last living men to do so. Their path had started climbing many days before they reached the Inn as they traveled through the foothills. As they set out on the final leg of their journey, they found the terrain rising steeply towards the summit. They had some semblance of a map, which Tristan had copied from a very faded and aged map that the innkeeper had inherited from kin who knows how many generations back. Whether it was reliable or not was another question, but it was all they had.

  Tristan checked the map occasionally but for the most part they let the unicorns find their own way; they had a remarkable path finding ability. On the eastern side of the mountains they traveled through sagebrush, weathered grasses, scrubby pines, and such plants as could grow in rocky soil where little rain fell. On the western side, they expected to find the slopes heavily forested, but for now there was little cover for those who wished not to be seen. For several days, they traveled without incident. The going was slow as the trail wound up and down, back and forth seeking the easiest path; scree slipped and slid under foot, large rocks and fallen trees further slowed their passage. One night a large, dark shape was seen prowling among the rocks and shadows just outside of the fire's light. Whatever it was sniffed the air, wheezed as if it had caught an unexpected and unpleasant scent, and quickly shuffled off into the darkness. It had apparently smelled something it would rather not tangle with; Taragon seemed rather proud of himself. Tristan could only scratch his head in wonder. After that encounter, they were not bothered by any of the local wildlife, but there were still human predators abroad.

  One morning as they were beginning their descent, they were forced to travel through a narrow valley that zigzagged out of sight. It was a perfect place for an ambush, but it was their only choice at the moment. Slowly they entered with Tristan leading and Pallin following. Nothing happened. They rode on for half an hour and all remained silent save the crunching of stone beneath hooves. They were nearing the far side when the unicorns' ears perked up and their nostrils flared; they had caught some faint sound or scent that was out of place in the silent pass. The men unsheathed their swords and prepared for flight or battle.

  "Now, now gentlemen," said a voice from above, "I would not want to have to kill you just because of a slight misunderstanding. Put those away before you get hurt." Tristan looked up at several men perched above on either side of the pass with bows bent and arrows ready to fly. The leader and spokesman was an unshaven, weedy fellow with a triumphant smile on his face. Tristan nodded to Pallin and they sheathed their weapons. "Good, good," said the leader, "now ride on out of that crack and once you get out into the open you will find some of my lads who will take your weapon. Remember I have you covered so no funny business."

  They quietly complied, Pallin only reluctantly; he seemed ready to go out in the blaze of glory rather than surrender. They reached the end of the little valley and where it opened into a wide meadow they found half a dozen men waiting for them. Half of the men wielded swords and the rest had bows held at the ready. The weedy fellow had followed along the ridge and stood on the rocky hillside above them; the rest of his henchmen covered them with bows on both sides of the opening. "Now if you will be so kind as to dismount and hand your weapons to these helpful chaps, we would much appreciate the effort." They handed their swords and daggers to their captors. The unicorns tossed their heads in defiance as several men came forward to take their reins but quieted as Tristan signaled them to cooperate. The horses were led off and secured to some small trees; the men started to rifle through packs and saddlebags. "Now anything you carry of value please hand to my friends as well. Purses, coins, jewelry, that sort of thing," said the weedy man. They carried little of value save their coin purses and these were handed to the bandits. They were then escorted to a fallen log and told to take a seat.

  As they sat and waited for whatever came next, the weedy man came over and began snooping about their persons hoping to find any as yet hidden valuables. He walked away disappointed. After his men had gone through their things twice and found nothing of any great value the weedy man said, "now gentlemen, it appears you have nothing I really want. You have some food, equipment, and supplies that might come in handy and a little coin in your purses but nothing that really perks my interest. I am desperately trying to find some reason to spare your lives, but you have nothing to trade for them. And you know you cannot get anything for free. Perhaps you have some useful information that would bring a good price if whispered in the right ear?"

  Tristan said, "we are just simple travelers wishing to see what lies on the other side of these mountains. We have nothing with us but that which is required for our journey. We know little of use to a learned man such as yourself. We are simple men of little importance in the world, but why must you kill us just because we carry nothing of value? You would kill us anyway, even if we had something to 'trade' for our lives."

  "I see you are no fool," said the weedy man, "you are right in thinking I would kill you regardless of what you carry if I meant to kill you. I was just hoping to discover if you did have anything worthwhile.”

  “So you are going to let us go?” asked Pallin hopefully. Tristan smiled ruefully at his apprentice’s naivette.

  “Let you go?” laughed the other man, “do not be ridiculous. You two are worth a lot to the right people.”

  “Slavery!” said Tristan vehemently.

  “Not exactly,” said the man, “think of it more as being drafted. They are building an army west of the mountains and a couple sturdy lads like yourselves will bring a good price, especially you,” he said pointing at Tristan. “I found some sort of military uniform amongst your baggage and I am assuming by the look of it that you had or have some sort of significant rank in whatever outfit you were or are part of,” he looked questioningly at Tristan.

  “I was once a Captain, but I have resigned my commission and taken up adventuring,” said Tristan, “the rigors of service proved too much for me and I needed a break.”

  “Well, I hope you are well rested,” sneered the other man, “because you are about to reenlist.” He walked away laughing. Pallin glanced at Tristan worriedly, but he did not seem concerned in the least.

  They camped in the meadow that night, and half of their new ‘friends’ were to take them down to the foot of the mountains on the morrow and put them safely into the hands of whoever it was that was building this army. The next morning before they were to leave, Earl (the weedy looking fellow) had a small chat with them, “now gentlemen, I am sending you down the hill with my best men. They have been instructed to kill first and ask questions later so I suggest you cooperate. Behave yourselves and you will be well treated. I am going to give you back your weapons, as you may need to defend yourselves on the way down. There are scary things about. Once you get out of the mountains, you will meet up with our contact and he will take you from there. Any questions?”

  Tristan asked, “what exactly do you get out of this?”

  “I will answer that just because I feel in a chatty sort of mood,” said Ea
rl. “I get to keep any valuable trinkets my ‘guests’ might have in their possession and for every sturdy gentleman I turn over to my contact I get a nice ‘finder’s fee’ if you get my meaning. Now off with you and remember to be good boys!” he laughed as two men came and escorted them to their horses. Their weapons were returned and they were allowed to ride as long as they cooperated, otherwise they would be forced to walk behind the riding men with a loop of rope binding their hands and held by the rider ahead of them. They wisely chose to cooperate.

  It took several days to ride down out of the forested slopes. One night in camp, Pallin quietly asked Tristan, “how are we going to escape?”

  “We are not,” Tristan replied, “we were sent to find whatever evil is stirring in the West. This may be the quickest way to find it.”

  Pallin looked at him nervously but had to trust his judgment and no more was said of escape. Nothing very eventful happened during the journey out of the mountains. Once they finally reached level ground, they traveled for half a day and came to a very small village. At the tiny inn, two of the bandits and their captives went inside. Within, sat a huge man at a tiny table. “Hector!” said he, “I see you have brought me two fine specimens.”

  “That we did sir,” said one of the bandits, “both can stay on a horse and will not accidentally stab himself with his sword.”

  “Good, good!” smiled the large man.

  “The older one even claims to have been a captain or some such,” said Hector.

  “Really?” said the man, “I will give you the regular price for the boy and twice that for the other.”

  “Earl says not to take less than three times the price for the older and double for the younger as they are both experienced,” said Hector.

  “Do they have horses?” asked the large man.

  “Yes, two look like war horses if I have ever seen a charger and two pack animals,” said Hector.

  “You drive a hard bargain my friend, but I will give you one and a half for the younger and two and a half for the older; you keep the pack horses and I will take the chargers. Otherwise you might as well keep them all,” said the man.

  “It is a deal,” said Hector. The large man motioned and a stubby secretary appeared with a chest of coins. Hector double counted it and seemed happy, “they are all yours sir.”

  “Keep’em coming Hector, keep’em coming,” laughed the huge man. “Take a seat gentlemen,” said the large man to Tristan and Pallin after Hector had left. They sat across the table from their new owner.

  “My name is Rolf and I am a Captain in her majesty’s service,” said the large man, “I am the one who is going to decide what course your life takes from here on out so I suggest you cooperate.” Tristan and Pallin nodded their agreement. “Very well,” Rolf continued, “is what Hector said true?”

  Tristan spoke, “yes Captain. Our horses are war-trained though they will never bear any riders but us. I was once a Captain in a military unit but resigned my commission some months ago. The boy has had some training with weapons and is a promising young soldier.”

  “Good,” said Rolf, “the way this works is you will be evaluated on your martial skills and then assigned to further training or to active duty in one of her majesty’s military units. You will receive pay, uniforms, equipment, food, and housing. In exchange, you will obey orders and do as you are told. If you disobey, you will be sent to the slave mines to quarry rock for the rest of your miserable days, if we do not just kill you on the spot. The length of your service will depend on how well you serve, how many men we need, and how long this war lasts.”

  “Sir,” said Tristan, “exactly what war do you speak of?”

  “You do not know?” asked Rolf.

  “No sir,” said Tristan, “we are from the other side of the mountains and this is our first time in these lands.”

  “Why her majesty is going to war against all the lands beyond the mountains. She hopes to conquer everything between the eastern and western seas. Not all at once of course, but she is truly a woman with a vision,” finished Rolf, “now let us eat a light lunch and then I want to see what you can do.”

  They had a light meal of bread, wine, and cheese and then were allowed to rest for an hour. The unicorns were tied to a tree outside the inn and relaxed visibly when they saw Tristan and Pallin come out. The Captain had them run through a variety of drills to evaluate their skills and what he saw seemed to impress him. He then set about questioning them extensively about military tactics and theory; their knowledge surprised him. “Now,” said Rolf, “you two have impressed me greatly with your skills and knowledge. I definitely got the better end of this deal. Things being what they are I think I shall send you both directly on to her Majesty the Queen and her generals can decide what to do with you. It would be a waste to stick either of you in the infantry, which is where most of our ‘recruits’ end up. But before I send you on your way I am dying to try a quick ride on that magnificent stallion of yours.”

  “No sir, please,” begged Tristan.

  “I will give the orders, thank you very much,” said Rolf stiffly. Tristan closed his eyes and could not bear to watch. Pallin smiled in anticipation; this was going to be fun. Rolf walked over to Taragon, untied him from the tree, and led him out onto the village green. The beast looked at him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye but stood patiently. Rolf launched himself into the saddle and the minute his weight settled in the seat the great stallion screamed in fury and set to bucking with a ferocity usually reserved for battle. The Captain was on the ground immediately and the unicorn resumed his unflappable calm the second Rolf was unseated. He stood patiently on the grass staring benignly at the fallen Captain. Rolf picked himself up and walked painfully back to where Tristan and Pallin stood. Pallin was trying very hard not to laugh. “Yes,” said Rolf, “you might as well eat supper and then retire. You leave early in the morning for Capithia.” The little secretary magically appeared and led them to their room.

  Capithia was the capital city of Westria: the country that covered all the land between the mountains and the sea. Westria’s Queen had once been content simply to rule her own country, but some years ago, a shady little man had washed up on the shore, apparently the victim of a shipwreck. Some local fishermen found him and nursed him back to health. Over the next few years he worked his way into the very highest levels of the government to become the Queen’s most powerful advisor. It was he who had convinced her that it was her destiny to conquer all the lands between the Eastern and Western Seas. Some feared he had too much sway over the Queen, but many of the more vociferous objectors had quietly disappeared; the rest were too frightened to say anything upon the matter. Now she was mustering an army to fulfill her so called destiny and at the current rate, she would soon bankrupt her country. This would then force her to go to war in hopes of conquering other lands thus enabling her to bankroll her war effort. Every able-bodied man available was being begged, bribed, or shanghaied into the military. Tristan and Pallin were just the latest victims. Had they simply walked into Westria as free men, they very soon would have found themselves in a similar situation. At least this way they found themselves immediately en route to Capithia and the heart of the matter.