The Weight of the World

by G M Archer

  “I think.” Came a reply.

  I began to step away, “Who are you?”

  What group was the real guards? My attackers or these people? Neither?

  I flinched as the archer smoothly slipped from a roof beside them. Face hooded, he was in dark leather armor, bow at the ready but no arrow nocked, the dark maroon rooster on his chest plate barely visible. He slowly held up a raven pierced by an arrow, blue and silver bands strapped across its feet.

  With the other hand he smoothly unfurled a piece of parchment with a simplistic ink drawing of me on it, and Varrick’s handwriting underneath.

  The caption: 1 million gold for the return of Princess Atlas. Alive and unharmed.

  Varrick wanted me back so badly he was offering the funds to build a small army? Seriously?

  “You’re a long way from home, Atlas,” one said.

  “Why does the king and his hound of industry want you back so badly?” The archer asked.

  “Who?” I stepped back, both genuinely interested and trying to stall. I glanced back, weighing if I could outrun them. Surely the archer wouldn’t shoot me if the poster said unharmed.

  “Lafayette” He said flatly.

  They made no move as I continued to move away. Perhaps they didn’t really want to catch me, they just wanted answers.

  Then again, I would do anything to catch me for one million gold.

  “Lafayette? Why? I’ve only met him like once.”

  The archer’s eyes flicked behind me, and as I began to turn something caught me on the side of the head, and with a blinding pain my world flickered and went black.

  An eleborate table was laid out before me, food more pristine than a masterwork painting. I blinked twice, turning slowly to see the masked angel at the opposite end of the table.

  “Icaurus.” I said simply.

  “Atlas,” He nodded, his smooth voice booming out, face cast in the shadow of the mask, making him look even more featurless.

  “Am I seeing you because I’m prophetic or mad?” I asked, eyeing the plate of fruit before me.

  His laugh was only a few exhales of breath, “Insight is scorned because fools fear intellegence, but persistance of such prevails in the end.”

  “How cryptic. So are you a figment of my imagination, or some other device?”

  “If your mind created me then how would it answer that?” his mystic voice mused.

  “I’m not sure if that’s not how my mind would answer that.”

  I could faintly see the corners of his lips lift as he spoke, “I asure you that I’m not a figment of your imagination.”

  “I’m still not sure I beilive you, but fine,” I leaned back further in the chair, “though I question after there was physical proof of your prophecy.”

  He grabbed a goblet, brought it to his lips and sipped thoughtfully, “I am here simply for guidance.”

  “Alright, answer some inquiries with your guidance.What does Lafayette have to do with anything? Why does he want me? Does his Industries have anything to do with you?” I went through several questions at once, quirking an eyebrow as he stiffened after the first question.

  He sit his cup down with a deliberate slowness.

  Suddenly the dream lurched , my vision blurring. Icarus gripped the table in alarm, his wine spilling and cascading down to the floor.

  “You must challenge and fight the bandit leader, Maul. It will be your only escape!” Icarus shouted, but his voice seemed distant and muffled, “You must listen to me, Atlas! It is the only way!”

  I started to open my mouth when the dream fell apart. The warth and welcome of the table full of food vanished as I jolted awake, head pounding. I squinted, shivered, wind and rain buffeting across my face, tree trunks bouncing and blurring by. I jerked against restraints, tied to a saddle beisde a bow and arrows.

  “Hirsh! She’s awake!” a rider beside us called.

  The archer, Hirsh, looked back at me for a moment, a hood drawn over his head, then faced the front again, ignoring my vicious struggling. I leaned up, neck stiff, trying to stop my head from constintatly bouncing on the horse’s hindqauarters. Lights appeared in the dim light and rain. The horses slowed to a canter as we approached the lights, lanterns held by stone faced guardsmen armed to the teeth and clothed in dark leather armor with a rooster stamped over the heart.

  A pang struck me, an aching for Joseph and his state, a sorrow thinking of how he and Alexandra were probably worrying. If he was still alive to worry.

  The guardsmen waved our group on, one meeting my eyes and watching us move on past massive trees. We entered a huge glade area, rimmed by ancient cedars, but contatining impressive sized trees all the same. My kidnappers led the horses to a tree with a circular stable built around the trunk,taking their horses to stalls and unsaddling them. Hirsh took the bridal off his mount, then causally threw me over his shoulder like a feedsack, my hands and feet still bound.

  “Who are you people?” I spat, not really able to see anyone anymore, facing the ground, “What do you want with me?”

  “Maul has plans for you,” Hirsh answered, adjusting my wheight and walking out of the stable.

  “Elaborate,” I growled.

  “That’s all I can tell you,” he said simply.

  We walked past a blacksmith’s shop, the smell of coal burning there even through the rain, accented by the sound of a hammer on an anvil, and then by a place smelling of meat and bread, some men under a simple canopy playing cards. All the structures we passed were engineered to be hidden within the trees. It was a brilliantly secretive camp, the limbs dispersing any smoke that could be seen in the air, and the settlement was nestled in the glade on top of that, barring any visablility on ground level.

  It gave me a sinking feeling. I wasn’t going to be rescued by somewhere that couldn’t be found.

  It was obviously a prospering settlement, the people we passed obviously all warriors in some way. They carried lethal weapons, damascus swords and axes, along with military grade rifles and pistols- things that made the most unskilled man deadly.

  I looked up at the grey sky, wondering how long I'd been gone and how far we were from Voltaren.

  We entered a clearing, the bottom levels of the trees cut off to accommodate the center of the camp, but the upper branches preserved to still conceal the area. Hirsh waited a moment, watching a man and woman approach us. The new company chatted about hunting conditions as Hirsh walked northward to a cabin. We came around to the back of the structure, Hirsh finally setting me down on a bench secured to the back porch.

  I waited patiently for him to untie my hands, idly conversing with the other two bandits, and the second he got my wrists loose, I grabbed the handle of his short sword. He yelped, swatted me back as the woman pinned me back to the bench.

  "A damsel causing distress, eh?" the other man gave a crooked smile.

  I snarled, the woman starting to tie my hands and legs to the rungs of the bench.

  Hirsh brushed himself off, cleared his throat, "well," he crossed his arms, "that was unexpected."

  "Not after the way she fought those guards," the other man scoffed.

  "Let me go and I'll show you unexpected," I jerked against the ropes for good measure.

  They laughed. I almost blushed.

  "Maul will see you soon," Hirsh gave a quick nod.

  "Tell him that I do relish his hospitality," I said, voice laden with sarcasm.

  They laughed again as they left, disappearing around the edge of the cabin.

  I sit still for a moment, listening to the distorted sounds of the camp, and the ever-slowing raindrops on the tin roof above.

  I patted my pockets with a stiff hand. All my things were gone. I shifted. Even Joseph's little knife I'd been keeping in my boot. I winced. Another painful reminder.

  I looked around, then started struggling, managing to barely loosen the restraints, but severely chaffing my wrists and ankles.

  Slightly winded, I stopped for a m
oment, blowing out a long sigh through my teeth.

  My rumbling stomach accented my frustration.

  The feeling of being watched pierced through me like ice, and I turned slowly, the Journeyer standing on the other side of the porch as if it were a permanent fixture. I was still, this was the first encounter I'd had where I hadn't just caught a glimpse of it and then it fleeing.

  I expected it to do so again, so I was pleasantly surprised when it did not move for quite some time, leaving the two of us in an awkward but peaceful silence with the leftover rain occasionally clicking across the roof.

  "I'm glad other people can see you," I narrowed my eyes.

  It turned away smoothly, starting out into the woods before us.

  No light reflected on the cloth of its cloak, the thing darker than coal, but the mask the purest of whites, and its markings clearly resembling Moontear. Just a few bizarre aspects of the strangeness of the whole.

  I stared at it for a while, then resumed another round of struggling against my restraints. It turned as I did so, head swiveling in the fashion of a bird of prey. It walked over to me with a silent liquid grace, sitting down on the bench beside me.

  I stopped for a moment, giving it a questioning look. It looked at me, then back out at the woods.

  "I don't even know what I'm doing," I groaned, "In more ways than one. But for now this being tied down thing is the first problem to address. I'd say the next issue is the fact that I wouldn't know where to go even if they turned me loose," I talked to myself and it. Did mythical spirits talk?

  Its head suddenly jerked towards the edge of the cabin, it startled, jumping up and taking off into the woods, gone in a flash of black and blue.

  It was a little bit before Hirsh walked around the side of the cabin, regarding me. I glared at him and he simply rolled his eyes.

  He called something around the building about my continually restrained status, the sound of his voice lost as he walked away.

  I was alone again for a time. The Journeyer came weaving out from between the trunks of the trees, mounting the porch and sitting down directly in front of me.

  "You're kind of . . . menacing you know," I wasn't exactly sure how to express my feelings on it. It was a somewhat frightening creature.

  I gave a half-hearted grin, "You wouldn't want to help me get out, would you?" It was more my own self musing than a purposeful request.

  It was incredibly startling when it did actually speak.

  "No," it was an odd accented rasp of a whisper, something I couldn't determine the gender or origin of.

  "You- you can talk?" I stammered.

  "No," such a peculiar voice.

  "Great, you're sarcastic too," I rolled my eyes, "Or is that the only Common you know? Are you from Viafinis? Are you a person?"

  "No."

  I grumbled, "To which question, oh great owl stalker spirit?"

  "No."

  "Stop," I tensed, stretched in frustration at my bonds, "Are you stupid, or sarcastic? And don't you dare say 'no' again."

  It stood, gave a 'humph' and turned away from me, starting to walk off the porch.

  "No, wait, don't leave me!" I struggled. As strange and frustrating as it was, it was the closest thing I had at the moment to someone I knew.

  It turned back around, circled around one of the support beams on the porch and then watched me.

  "Are you the same Journeyer off my nursery wall? Why won't you help me? Whose side are you on? “I spit off several questions at once.

  I guess I should have expected the answer.

  “No.”

  I wanted to scream, “You are so incredibly helpful.”

  It cocked it’s head, watching the edge of the cabin again. It spooked, took a few bounding leaps into the woods, and then effortlessly jumped multiple stories high, landing in the top branches of one of the trees. It shuffled back rather humorously to the trunk, hidden in the shadows with just the white of its mask barely visible in the dying light.

  Hirsh and his companions came around the cabin, I resisting the urge to keep my eyes on my follower above.

  “We’ll let you walk if you won’t try to kill us,” Hirsh offered.

  “Sure,” I said flatly.

  He untied my hands, only to retie them independent of the bench.

  The woman pointed to my reddened wrists, “You’d be free if I could tie any less of a knot,” she gave a smug grin to the others.

  “Yeah, yeah,” the other man rolled his eyes.

  “If only you’d tied them that well on the horses last month,” Hirsh said pointedly.

  The woman started in on some defensive speech about how it wasn’t her fault that a storm came as Hirsh finally untied my feet, leaving the rope on the porch. He watched me defensively as I stood and stretched my legs, popping my neck with a grunt.

  I jerked towards him and the others, laughing as they flinched.

  “I’ll tie you back up again,” Hirsh threatened, “and carry you.”

  “Alright. Alright. I’ll behave,” I stepped off the porch, starting to follow them around.

  I took one last glance up into the trees, Hirsh following my gaze, and thinking he saw nothing, he gave me a quizzical look. I smirked knowingly at him, the suspension in his gaze intensifying as we stepped around the cabin. Our group walked through the main square area, people gathered on porches and stopping to watch us go. I faced forward, face indifferent, behaving as if I were walking the castle gardens and not a vagabond camp.

  They led me westward between two houses and into a fenced in clearing, the roof only that of the cedar needles above. Wooden benches rimmed a smoldering fire, and Hirsh motioned for me to sit, throwing a few more logs in to fuel the flames. I obeyed, sitting down.

  “Where is Maul?” I demanded, “He has much to explain.”

  “He will see you soon,” Hirsh said dismissively.

  An old man with thick spectacles entered the area.

  Hirsh turned and addressed him, “What are you doing here, doc?”

  The man didn’t look like a doctor except for his age and glasses, dressed in a long black coat with the camp’s signature dark leather armor underneath. He gave Hirsh a narrow eyed displeasure that reminded me of Alexandra, and spoke, “You knocked her out and tossed her around all the way here, don’t you dare ask me why I’m here.”

  Hirsh shrugged, “It wasn’t like she was coming willingly.”

  The doctor shooed him, sitting down beside me. A woman walked in and handed him a tray of food and a cast iron kettle, then exited with Hirsh’s group.

  The doctor took out a dagger from his boot and casually cut away my bonds. I eyed him as he took his time pouring a cup of tea. I stretched gratefully, rubbing my wrists. He then handed me the metal cup, and a plate of seared meat, cheese and bread.

  I eyed them and him for a moment, stomach assuring me that I wanted the food presented.

  The doctor clasped his hands on his lap, leaning back contently, “Hello, Atlas, I’m Doctor Tombstone, but most everyone around here calls me Doc. I’m supposing you’ve got quite the headache, and that you’re probably hungry as well, the food will see to the latter, and the tea will help the first.”

  I looked skeptically at the food, and he caught my gaze, “Do you think it’s poisoned? If they wanted you dead by now, they would’ve. You saw the bounty on you, they’re not going to damage something of that worth.”

  I gave into his logic, shoving basically the whole chunk of bread in my mouth, and downing it with a swig of tea. The tea was sweet but bitter, and had a very pungent smell. I overlooked it, starting on a piece of meat, thinking of how infuriated Alexandra would be that I was eating it with my hands.

  “Dr. Tombstone?” I said between bites, “That’s fairly ominous.”

  He gave a breath of a laugh, “In the town I lived in I ran the graveyard and the clinic, it wasn’t a very big place. You could imagine that being good at the second job made the first one easier on me, but the
combination of the two earned me an odd nickname.”

  I scoffed, “I bet you’ve had to explain its origin more than once as well.”

  He smiled warmly, “Indeed.”

  People started entering the area, taking seats and filling up the benches around us. I quickly finished eating, and took a final swig of the tea. Doc noticed, and took the empty tray and cup from my hand.

  “Would you like more?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, watching the seats fill to almost capacity, “I was told don’t eat till uncomfortably full, give yourself a good edge.”

  “By whom?” Doc said.

  “A good man,” I said simply.

  He sighed and put the tray beside him, looking me sternly in the eye, “Being an honest man, I’m going to tell you the truth. While the tea will help you head, it contained Verum as well.”

  I stiffened, “Verum?! What is that!?”

  Several gazes turned to us with my outburst.

  He held his hands up, vainly encouraging me to calm, “It’s simply a truth serum. It’s aged sap from a certain tree in these hills. It was outlawed long ago, due to it’s . . . over-effectiveness, but the knowledge of how to make it was not lost. It does you no harm, it will just make you speak all that comes to mind.”

  “Screw you, you deceptive old man! Acting kind to gain my trust, just to get me to drink some stupid potion!” I clamped a hand over my mouth, but Doc didn’t seem offended, instead he was actually laughing.

  “I’m actually sorry for that one, I didn’t mean to take the insults that far, but I’m still extremely angry,” I crossed my arms.

  “I like you, Atlas, you are not what is expected of when one thinks of a Princess,” Doc continued to grin.

  “That supposed to be an insult? I’ll fight you here and now. I’ll fight anyone here. Not that I’d win, but I like to at least try. I think it’s because I hate feeling helpless. Who are these people? What do they want with me? Money? Why are they having a meeting about it?” The words tumbled out of my mouth not much on my own accord.

  A few of the men around us laughed.

  “You sorry deserters! Bandit scum! Kidnapping an innocent girl! Taking me away from Joseph and Alexandra! That’s my knight and maid, they’re not just those titles though, they’re more like parents to me. And now the knight, well, he’s an ex-knight I guess, he’s branded. He was part of the Guild,” I managed to stop myself as one man started talking.