Bloodless

by Roberto Vecchi

  “I will keep that in mind when I next decide to pilfer. But I am failing to see how Goblins pertain to my query, which I have not yet voiced,” he said.

  “Sure you have,” Rhashana said with a warm grin.

  “I have?” said Jaro.

  “It is written in your eyes every time you look at her. It is in your speech every time you talk when she is around, a little quicker and yet a little more hesitant at the same time,” she said drawing his attention. “Your affections for her run deep, Jaro. But that is not why you are here.”

  “Is it that easy to see?” he asked worried that Soliana might have noticed.

  “Yes, but only because I have seen your bond to her. Did you not wonder why we needed to find you to save her?”

  “I guess I did, but the circumstance prevented me from asking. I guess I had forgotten to ask once we saved her. It did not seem to matter after that.”

  “Soliana was lost in a Death Dream. When the soul senses it is close to death, specifically a death before its time, it suspends its consciousness inside of a world reflective of its inner most reality,” said the Shaman.

  “How was she close to death? Her body was uninjured was it not?”

  “There are many types of death, Jaro, extending beyond that which our bodies suffer from. In her case, her soul had become overwhelmed with its new understanding and was incapable of sustaining its power.”

  “Power?” he asked for clarification.

  “Yes. Power. It runs deep inside her, deeper than any I have felt before. But it is not completely mortal which is why, I suspect, her soul and mind could not assimilate it completely. So, they tried to reject it and in doing so, inadvertently tried to reject part of herself; and one cannot reject oneself and sustain any form of life. Do you understand?”

  “No, but I will take your word for it. Souls are beyond a thief’s consideration. Largely because we do not have one.”

  “Everyone has one, Jaro. Even you. But in Soliana’s case, hers was being suffocated in an attempt to remove what her mortality did not recognize. That is the best way I can explain it. As it was, she was locked inside her soul’s attempt to protect the part that was being denied. That is where you came in.” She paused allowing for a moment to pass. “Jaro, you were her key.”

  “Key? How could I have been the key?”

  “Not ‘the’ key but ‘her’ key. While our minds are powerful things capable of great reasoning, it is our emotions that ultimately hold supremacy over who we are. All our minds do, when presented with emotions that cannot be ignored, is provide reasoning to justify the actions those emotions dictate. But that is not the point. At least, not really. You see, Jaro, when emotions develop, especially between two people, they form a bond. And it is that bond that can be traversed within the dream realm.”

  “Although I am quite certain you have provided a wonderful explanation regarding all this, I am still not following you. My apologies. We thieves may be quick of finger, but we are sometimes slow of wit,” he said grinning.

  “I rather doubt that,” she responded. “Very well then. Consider this. What did you see when you were in your dream trance?”

  “I was spending time with Jonsia,” he said, distance in his voice.

  “Yes, your bond with her was deep. It was only natural your trance would take you into that reality. What did you see after?”

  “A storm.”

  “Ah, and that was, and still is, Soliana’s reality. She was lost inside the own storm of her life because that was the greatest of emotions she connected with. It was the one that has been constant for her so much so that it has become a part of her. She was lost so deeply that I was unable to find her to pull her out,” she said.

  “How did I find her,” he asked. “I was not even looking for her.”

  “You did not. She found you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe thieves are rather slow of wit. She found you because you possessed the only bond she was able to follow. She found you and instinctively pulled you inside her own dream trance. And because she did, I was able to pull both of you out through your dream trance.”

  “So, her emotions run just as deep as mine?” he asked.

  “That is difficult to say. She did not find you because of anything that was within her, but because of what is within you that was reaching out for her, bonded to her.”

  “Well that does not exactly answer my question,” he replied.

  “No, I am sure it does not. But you must understand this: there is a greatness within her that has been locked away for a very long time. Her life has not been her own, and never will be; however, with her awakening, it will be for a much different reason. You must not interfere with that,” she said gravely.

  “In that, it seems we are the same, for my life is not now my own either.”

  “I know. And I am sorry,” she said as she placed a hand on his shoulder signifying her understanding of the burden he choose to carry.

  “Thank you, Rhashana. I think I will retire to my chambers now and sleep, though for peace’s sake, I pray no dreams come,” he said as he stood up and exited her room.

  “Now whose drifting off somewhere?” asked Soliana, a familiar playfulness returning to her voice.

  “What? Oh, I am sorry,” he said. “What did you need?”

  “Nothing from you,” she said with a sarcastic wink. “Look, we are almost there,” she said as she pointed to the familiar hill, she disappeared beyond only a short time ago.

  “Are you sure that is the same hill?” he asked, surprised and partially in disbelief that they had covered the distance so quickly.

  “Of course. You are not the only one with a geographical sense. Now, let us hurry. I am sure Dregor is beside himself with worry,” she said as she spurred her horse forward.

  “I am sure he will be relieved when I return with his horse,” he yelled after her. And though it was meant as a joke, he was quite sure it was more than partially true.

  However, any sense of humor or joking or joyous reunion was removed from their hopes as they dropped more quickly than a falcon descending upon its prey. When they reached the top of the hillside and were able to see their camp, they found a wasteland of burnt tents, smoldering fires, and the remnants of tears. Reigning in their horses out of an astonished dread, they paused only briefly before galloping the rest of the way in an effort to see if there was any assistance they could provide. They sped into the center and dismounted quickly.

  “Dregor!” shouted Soliana.

  “They were taken,” said Jaro quietly as he surveyed the broken encampment.

  “Yes, but not all of us,” said a voice to their right. Both Soliana and Jaro snapped their heads in that direction and drew their weapons. When they saw Dregor emerge from behind the remnants of a smoldering tent, they breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Dregor! Thank the Gods!” exclaimed Soliana as she rushed over to hug him. “Are,” she continued but was interrupted by Dregor.

  “Yes, they are still safe. We were able to avoid their notice, but I do not know how. It was only divine intervention that saved us,” he said.

  “What happened here?” asked Jaro.

  “We were attacked,” he said.

  “I can see that, but by whom?” he asked again.

  “The hounds of the Stone Keep caught up to us. Most of us were taken, for what purpose, I do not know,” said Dregor.

  “How many are still here?” asked Soliana.

  “About ten I think, including myself and my family,” he said.

  “Only ten?” asked Soliana out of astonishment.

  “Then I have failed,” she said.

  “No, you have not failed. You provided hope when none existed and a chance for a few to live without the veil of evil over them,” said Jaro.

  “You are kind, and I appreciate the words. But in the end, I have failed. I did nothing but lead them across the countryside only to be apprehended and taken back
into who knows what sort of environment. I am sure they will be seen as outlaws and dealt with accordingly. All I did was lead them to a death sentence,” said Soliana.

  “No, you did not,” said Jaro.

  “Yes I did!” she shouted. “I abandoned them, Jaro! When they trusted me to protect them, I ran off ran on some quest for people I do not know when I should have stayed and tended to those who entrusted me with their lives.”

  “Soliana,” said Jaro, but before he could continue, she cut him off again.

  “No! I will not hear it!”

  “Yes, you will!” he shouted back. His loud and emotional retort unsettled her enough for him to continue before she was able to subvert his attempt before it began. “Your over developed sense of responsibility is noble as far as it goes, but it simply is not true.”

  “Not true? How can it not be true?”

  “Because it is not!”

  “How can you say that? If it was not for my agreement, then these people would never have followed me. And if they had never followed me, they would be in a much better situation than they are now. What right did I have? How arrogant am I that I believed what they said? That I was the only one who could lead them away?” But she knew the reason she led them away was not because of their insistence, nor any persuasive argument they possessed. For at the root of her actions was the bidding of a man, the man, the only man to whom she was still bonded. And now, because she had not fully detached from him, more people were set to suffer. “What have I done?” she said to herself as she looked at her surroundings.

  “How could you have known this would happen?” he asked her.

  “It is not that I could have known this would happen, but that I should have known this could happen,” she said with the edge of anger in her voice fading. Jaro was left without argument. As much as he wanted to spare her from the self-condemnation she was battling, he knew there was nothing he could say that would deter her from placing blame squarely on her shoulders. As it was, both of them stood silently across from each other, each defeated, but each defeated by differences neither had acknowledge to the other. Jaro by his feelings for her, and Soliana because she had not fully broken from being controlled by a man.

  “What do we do now?” asked Dregor breaking the silence when it had become thick enough to cut with any of their blades.

  She did not hear him. She was too lost in the consumptive nature of her failure. Really, it was no different than her failed attempt to protect Torrick by marrying Matteos. She had placed her and her son’s future in the potential of his promises because she believed him, as she had believed all men, beginning with her father to be a good father, continuing with Eriboth to return, and finishing with Matteos to be a good husband. In each of those cases, she waited long past the time she should have waited, hoping their words would be proven true by their actions only to find they were anything but. Even the decision of Psumayn, the one leading her to participate in the tournament, contributed to her current doom. However, while the actions of her father, Matteos, and arguably Psumayn affected only her, the latest regarding Eriboth set into motion consequences on a much broader pallet darkening the sunrises of many more than just hers. But what to do now?

  She heard Psumayn’s words echo in her mind over and over, “If you get struck, you get struck. There is no shame nor defeat within a single strike, even one leading to death, because the only true deaths we face are those compromising who we are,” she heard the familiar words of her combative instructor echo in the annals of her mind each and every time following her defeat in training. So ingrained had they been that she was unable to avoid their voice. In fact, they were the only words she heard.

  “Soliana, what is it we should do now,” asked Dregor again, his words falling on the persistence of her self-pity induced deafness.

  Indeed, she had been struck a fatal blow. And while it would have been easier to desist her current mission, leaving each of those remaining to their own fates, she realized that if she did that, she would have taken on the mantel of every man in her life forcing her followers to bear her failures. And that was a consequence she would not and could not allow, even if it meant persisting on a mission from the very source of the doom and misery she and the rest of them had come to know. North. It was to the north that gave her purpose and the reaching of her intention in the very beginning when she was first approached by Dregor. And it would be to the north that she would adhere, for in the north she hoped she would find her freedom.

  “M’lady,” said Dregor more loudly than before, “what is it we are to do now?”

  Perhaps it was the loudness of his voice, or perhaps it was the urgency and loss it contained driving its loudness; regardless, it drew her attention from within. She focused intently on him for a moment, then began to notice that the others had gathered around her in a very small circle, just like they had at the Stone Keep. But this time, instead of uncertainty in their eyes, she saw hope mixed with sorrow and gratitude. And while the sorrow they felt tore at her heart like the desert vultures tearing at a dead carcass pulling it apart piece by piece, she would not allow it to paralyze her. They still depended on her for much.

  “When we began our journey, I did not know any of you, nor you me, though we have grown to know each other over these last long months. And over that time, I have seen each of you display a faith and trust greater than I was capable of giving and greater than I was deserving. It has been said by some of you that I was the reason we got this far, but in truth, it was you who carried me when I doubted, and for that, you all have my gratitude and respect,” she paused allowing her tears to well in her eyes. After a necessary moment to compose herself, she continued, “I will be heading into the north, and it is my hope that I do not continue that journey alone. Should you accompany me, we will need to make for the city of Sombren where Jaro assures me he will be able to secure transportation by boat.”

  “A journey like that would cost more money than we have,” stated Pitros.

  “Can we not go through the pass?” asked Dregor.

  “The pass has been sealed by unseasonably strong storms with more on the way. We will not get through and could even perish during our attempt. To answer your concern, Pitros, it will not require money. I am told that Jaro has leverage which will purchase our passage,” she answered.

  “Leverage? That does not sound very reassuring,” said Dregor.

  “Nothing is reassuring in these times. Each day is a blessing. Each moment is beyond a solid conviction to another. We have but one decision to make: trust in Jaro’s leverage, or be hunted the rest of our lives as outlaws,” she said.

  Having their situation explained so concisely quelled any further debate. Dregor was the first to voice his assent, “Then there is no decision for us to make. I will not live as an outlaw and I will not have my family live as outlaws either,” he said as he hugged his daughter who was standing in front of him.

  “Nor will I,” answered Pitros.

  “Nor will we,” answered Resaria as she, too, put her arm around her three sons.

  “Then it is decided. Salvage what you can. We leave in half an hour,” she said. When Jaro walked up to her while the others were searching for supplies, she turned to him and said, “You had better be right.”

  When fortune often spoke into her life, it did so with a harsh temperament much like the granite walls of the ancient dwarven cities. Hard, solid and unrelenting to forgiveness, all of her journeys had been wrought with peril requiring her to access her vast resources of determination and fortitude. There had never been a time in her life that was easy or smooth. So, when their trek across the land presented with very few natural obstacles, she was unable to truly rest because she feared what was lurking behind the invisible horizon. She could feel it, just beyond her detection, a doom, a foreboding as palpable as a lingering bruise or an old battle scar. Yet, in spite of her doubts, each night that passed saw their bellies reach a close approximation to full
, at least as close as they could when living off the land over an extended duration. Yet, with each passing day, her fear grew larger and larger as his sorrow grew smaller and smaller. What if when they reached the city, Jaro’s contact proved insufficient, or worse yet, turned nefarious? How would she face the costing of the lives of those who had remained to follow her? Though doubts like these would often insert their dominance into her thoughts, she refused to allow them ownership of her mood and behavior.

  But such could not be said of Jaro. Since their departure, he had adopted a rather melancholy disposition. As much as her other companions maintained their positivity through the constant compliment of advantageous weather, the more unseasonably warmer it became and the stronger the sun had shone, the more brooding he had become. Jaro always preferred seclusion to inclusion when they traveled, but he had even abandoned engaging Dregor in the pseudo-arguments he drew amusement from. And though she was still able to engage him in conversations, they were short, direct and lacked the sarcastic humor she had learned to enjoy. When she confronted him regarding his malcontent, he shrugged it off by saying, “Oh, it is nothing, m’lady. I am just anxious to reach our destination. It has memories I thought had long since died, and their rebirth has caused a mix of emotions.”

  Though he did not lie to her, neither did he tell her the truth. It is true that the memories of this city, the city he lived in with Jonsia before he was a thief, and continued living in after he became one, still held a modicum of sway over his emotions, they were too long in the past to assert any substantial control. Yet, since his dream trance, when emotions entombed within him were resurrected, emotions he had thought were indeed dead and buried with Jonsia and his daughter, he felt guilty, as if he was betraying her in some way. Indeed, his growing attraction to Soliana, well past the physically obvious, had become real enough that it could not be dismissed or ignored. They had become so real that the part of his heart he kept reserved for only Jonsia was becoming infiltrated. And though the awakening of those emotions, at least their beginning, provided him with the same exhilaration he felt while they were both riding away from their present and into their future on the backs of her father’s thundering horses, he could not help but feel regret, and worse, ashamed. So, he held his shame close, so close that he withdrew from everything but necessary contact. To avoid her, he excused himself by scouting ahead and taking opposite watches than her. But he could not altogether avoid conversation, their numbers were now too little to get lost in the crowd. So, when she was finally able to confront him regarding his isolation, he offered her an excuse that was neither truth, nor lie, at least not completely to which she responded, “I hope you find peace. If there is anything I can do, please ask.”