Deathsworn Arc: The Last Dragon Slayer

by Martyn Stanley

  ~

  The Town of Briem

  Being so robbed of his senses, Korhan found keeping track of time difficult. He felt the air grow cooler as they covered several leagues. When they started the final approach to Briem, Korhan had no idea how long had passed or where they were. Votrex was riding at the head of the column, alongside Saul. He pointed at the intricate but damaged stonework that made up part of the town wall. ‘This does not appear to be human work. What do you know of this place?’

  ‘It was a small elven town, a long time ago. The elves abandoned Briem, as they did almost all of their settlements, a short time after humans migrated from the east. You can tell its elvish work if you look at the carvings, and in the wall – look – you cannot see the seam between the blocks. This whole section has the appearance of being carved from one block.’

  ‘Impressive. I’d be interested to know how this is done. No offence Saul, but human stonework is rough and of poor quality. At least most of it is. Good dwarfish stonework is incredibly precise; our seams are so tight you cannot pass a pin between them, but-’

  ‘I suspect this stone was worked with magic rather than tools Votrex. Of course if you’re really interested you should ask Vashni.’

  Votrex glared back at her and snorted. ‘That might give her altogether too much satisfaction.’

  At that point Vashni’s horse trotted alongside, leading Korhan's behind. ‘Master wizard. I wish to spend some time alone with my Ri§ine. Give me your coin purse and I will secure rooms at the inn while you take the others to meet the Berger.’

  Saul raised an eyebrow at her, she sighed, somewhat deflated. ‘I do not intend to cheat you out of your coin, I am trying to be... helpful? If you do not wish to give me your purse, give me two gold coins. I will secure a room for you, Silus, Harald, Brael and Votrex, and a room for myself and my Ri§ine.’

  ‘So, you’ve decided to take him to your bed?’

  Vashni laughed out loud. ‘No silly! Sharing a room does not mean sharing a bed. He will sleep on the floor, in front of the door to my room, ensuring my safety and privacy.’

  ‘Lady Vashni, I cannot understand why Korhan is allowing you to treat him the way you are treating him. I’ll be honest; I worry that you may have enchanted him in some way, or bound him to your will by magical means.’

  Vashni rolled her eyes. ‘Korhan recognises my ability to,’ she made a circular gesture with one hand, as if searching for the correct word. ‘Improve him. The way I treat him is my price, he accepts my price. I give you my word Saul Karza, no enchantments are necessary or in place. Korhan is my Ri§ine by choice and choice alone.’

  ‘I suppose I will have to take your word for that, mistress elf.’

  She reached up and gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. ‘Yes, you will... Now, the coin?’

  Saul took a handful of silver and copper coins and one gold coin and held them out to Vashni, who took them and deposited them in her pocket. By this point they were approaching the stone archway, half built by the elves, half by human hands. Two shabbily dressed town guards, bearing blunt halberds and tarnished armour stood outside, but made no attempt to bar the way or even inspect the riders.

  After passing through the mismatched arch, Vashni led Korhan’s horse off to a large, ruined elvish building, which had been repaired with human building materials. Cut stones that appeared to be fused together, were interspaced with thick, rough cobbles, pointed into thick beds of mortar. The inn was called ‘Freais Folly’, had Korhan been able to see – he would have thought it an unusual name for an inn. There were stables outside, which appeared to be fairly intact elvish stone masonry, but with a rougher, human-made clay tile roof. When the horses drew to a halt, Korhan had no idea where they were or what was happening. Fearing another bandit ambush he tried to sit still in his saddle, though he quivered slightly. Vashni dismounted in her usual elegant fashion. She then pulled up her hood, walked to Korhan and placed a hand on his thigh, making him jump a little. Next she projected an image into his head of the position of the horses, courtyard and stables. It was clear to Korhan what the test was. She was testing his ability to use only his spatial awareness to tie up their steeds, without the aid of his sense of sight or hearing.

  The first challenge was dismounting his horse. Under normal circumstances, he would perform such a simple task without even thinking. He’d dismounted a horse in the dark before with no problem. However, the total lack of any sense of sight, or hearing, made this task difficult, extremely difficult. Seeing that his feet were free of the stirrups and judging his dismount so that his feet landed evenly would be impossible. He also had no measure for how far below him the ground was and he stumbled awkwardly as his boots thumped onto the cobbles. Luckily the horse didn’t move much so he managed to use the orientation of the horses with the images planted in his mind by Vashni to get his bearings. Vashni stepped back to give him space and observed in silence. First he found his horse’s reins, then holding onto them, he worked his way around the beast, until he placed a hand on Vashni’s magnificent steed. Her horse stood submissively while he groped his way to its reins; with both reins in one hand he started leading both animals in the direction of the stalls. Those few steps across the well-worn cobbles seemed to take an eternity, and he breathed a sigh of relief when his groping hand met the edge of one stall. Feeling his way in, he found the tying point and fastened one horse after another to it. Again, such an easy task as tying a horse up, which he’d done more times than he cared to count, proved to be challenging to say the least, without the use of two of his senses. He fumbled for a long time with the reins. Tying them up without sight required guesswork, followed by running the knots through his fingers to check that they were tied. After finally completing the task, he ran his fingers along the edge of the stall to the end, then tried to grope his way across the courtyard towards Vashni.

  Vashni grasped his hand chuckling, somewhat surprised at his success but also a little dismayed at the obvious difficulty he had found in completing this simple task. Clearly she would need to do a great deal more training with him. Leading Korhan by the hand she entered the inn and strode up to the counter. A young girl watched her approach and joined her at the counter. She was younger than the inn keeper’s wife in Trest, but she looked tired and worn out. She stared at Korhan, screwed her face up, and then looked Vashni in the eye. ‘What’s the matter with him?’

  ‘He is temporarily blind and deaf, but do not let his condition trouble you; I would like two rooms for tonight. One small one with one bed and a large room with five beds, please.’

  ‘I can do you the single, with a two and a three.’

  ‘That will suffice; I also require stabling and feed for seven horses. My companions will be arriving shortly; they have gone to meet the Berger. Could you also bring me some fruit, bread, a jug of water and a jug of wine with two cups please?’

  ‘Three rooms, stabling, feed, food, water and a jug of wine.’ The girl did some practiced addition in her head. ’That’s three silver and fifteen coppers.’

  Vashni counted out four silver coins and made sure she received the correct change. The young girl poured the wine and water, then gathered a small bowl of fruit and a crust of bread. Tray in hand, she led them through the inn, up the stairs to a small room at the back, with a single large bed up against the back wall. Vashni stepped in first, leading Korhan, then turned and gestured for the innkeeper to leave. ‘We do not wish to be disturbed. Please tell the others, led by a Saul Karza, we will meet them in the morning.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  Vashni peered at the jug of wine on the small table. Briem was a larger, more successful town than Trest, which had been built on the ruins of an elven city, so things like fresh running water and sewage systems were a reality. It also prided itself on being the last truly civilized city before the barren, northern wastes of Torea. Even so, when she swirled the wine around the jug with her hand, the contents appeared not to be not of t
he finest quality. She wrinkled her nose. She stepped closer to Korhan then whispered in his ear. ‘Ri§ine, cor§ou§a o§u §inair§a orao ta §hui cor§ou§a o§u §inair§a rai’. She watched Korhan open his eyes with a gasp.

  ‘Where are we?’

  Vashni smiled at him. ‘We are now at the town of Briem. Saul and the others are taking the bandits’ loot and Gedric to the Berger, while I have secured us a room at this inn, Freais Folly, and allocated some time to further your mental training.’

  Korhan screwed his face up. ‘Freais Folly? Tis an unusual name for an inn, what does it mean?’

  Vashni giggled. ‘I doubt the innkeeper knows, but I think I do. There’s an old elvish legend that is said to originate from the town of Briem. Back in the olden days there was said to live an elven mage here, who achieved such a mastery of magic that he could transform mass into energy and energy into life on a whim. However, he was lonely and longed for female company. His name was Freai§a, and this story is a perfect example of the power of words. When a spell caster constructs a spell they must be very careful how they word the spell; it is critical the wording is completely unambiguous. Whispers should be the same. This is why you should not attempt to whisper unless you can use perfect pronunciation and diction, or the meaning might be skewed.’

  ‘What happened to this mage?’

  ‘Simple, he attempted to create himself a female partner, shaped in the image of his desire. However, when he came to utter this powerful spell the meaning was skewed. I believe the final incantation translated something like, “Make me the girl of my dreams” and he formed an image in his mind of what he perceived to be a perfect female elf – tall, slender, with sharp features and unblemished milky complexion. Instead of what he expected though, the spell morphed his own portly, male body, utterly changing the very essence of his physical form. He became what he perceived to be, a perfect female elf. The spell was so powerful it drained all of his arcane resources, and the action of the spell in changing his entire body was said to be so traumatic, so painful, that he could not face reversing the process, and he lived out the rest of his days as a female.’

  Korhan laughed loudly as he imagined this. ‘Hah! Poor wretch! Imagine how that must have felt!’

  ‘Poor wretch? What precisely about being female warrants your pity Korhan? Elvish culture is not like human culture, females and males are generally treated equally. The only matter of importance for gender is that certain work requires more physical strength, and our males tend to be a little stronger, so they get selected for this work and of course breeding requires one elf of each gender. Had he been a human mage, then it may have been appropriate to pity him, or her I suppose. Human society appears to favour males quite noticeably, but do not assume that is true for all the races.’

  ‘Well, whether tis merely a human trait or not, I should care dearly if I were to be magically transformed into a female.’

  ‘Hah! You, Ri§ine, base too much of your identity on being “male”, just as you rely too much on your sense of sight. I do not believe it is possible or safe to whisper you into a female, but if I could I might. Perhaps it would do you good to spend a spell as the opposite gender; it might teach you something.’

  Korhan sensed a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She was jesting, but he did not want to put her to the test. He bowed his head slightly. ‘My apologies Mir§a Vashni. I meant no disrespect.’

  ‘Good. Now observe, I have ordered us wine and water, but the wine here is not good. It contains excessive sediment; too much of the sugar has fermented. This wine is barely drinkable. Try some.’

  Korhan took the jug, poured himself a small cup and sipped cautiously. It tasted acidic, and left a nasty after-taste. He was not a regular wine drinker, but even to his crude palate, this was awful. ‘This is not good wine.’

  ‘No, it is not. But watch, something can be done about this.’ She leaned close to the jug and took a deep breath, taking in the full aroma of the wine. Then she took a small phial of white powder from her nearby satchel, and dropped a pinch of it into the jug. Slowly the sediment settled on the base or clung to the inside of the jug. As it did so, she opened a phial of green powder and dropped a pinch into the jug. The liquid contents bubbled and fizzed for a few seconds, then went quiet.  Vashni poured two cups of the wine this time and handed one to Korhan. ‘Try some now. The powders caused the impurities to settle or stick to the jug and the sugar and alcohol levels to become more... correct.’

  Korhan took the cup and sipped some. The difference was phenomenal – now the wine tasted smooth, fruity and sweet. It was now such a fine wine that for once in his life, Korhan thought he preferred wine to ale or mead. He began gulping enthusiastically. Vashni gave him a patronising smile. ‘You like?’ He nodded, and as he drank he took in the room they were in. Exquisite carvings, dulled by time, were scattered about the walls. The only window in the room was large but slender, and of ornate stained glass.

  Korhan sighed. ‘This place is amazing. The architecture here is too-’

  ‘Tis of elvish construction, though poorly maintained. Note the sigil above the doorway; that is the mark of House Beali§. The warrior in the stained glass window, on the winged mount – that is Or§alon Beali§. Now eat, drink. I have returned your senses to you for a short break, before I remove them once more. The exercise in the courtyard went well, but not well enough. You do not know your own mind Ri§ine, let alone your own body! I will need to double my efforts if I am to sharpen and hone your mind to its maximum potential.’

  Korhan took a seat on a small wooden stool, thankful to be in possession of his sight and hearing again. He took his time, breaking bread up and eating it with the fruit. He drank some wine and some water, lingering over the tang and texture of what he was eating. His brief time without hearing or sight seemed to have sharpened his senses of smell and taste. Vashni took a little fruit and bread and sat away from him on the bed, eating. With his mouth full, Korhan looked up. ‘Mir§a Vashni, something strange happened when I was riding, I thought I sensed my horse’s mind. Is this possible?’

  She frowned. ‘A human, untrained in mental warfare, embrace the mind of another? Well, this would be surprising. It may have been your imagination Ri§ine, but it is possible you reached out and touched the equine mind of your steed. What was it like?’

  Korhan paused, in deep thought about how to describe the alien presence. ‘It felt alert, sharp, but simple... trusting. Its flank was sore. No words, just feelings.’

  Vashni bit a chunk out of an apple, and chewed for a moment. ‘I must admit, I believe you may have achieved something which I did not think was possible for you! You must be careful though. When your mind is straying it is more susceptible to being attacked or infiltrated. Defending your mind whilst wandering is a special skill. I would advise against probing the minds of others except when you are certain your mind is not going to be invaded.’

  Korhan paused for a moment. ‘I did not try to probe the horse’s mind. I just – Mir§a Vashni, I wish to collect some cured meat from my saddlebags. Though the bread and fruit is good, I need something more substantial.’

  She paused, turning her apple over and over in her fingers, a thought having occurred to her as to how she could test his obedience. Her lips formed a crooked smile.

  ‘Ri§ine, you do not need anything more substantial. While you are my Ri§ine, you will not eat meat, poultry or fish. You will eat only fruit, vegetables, bread, and dairy products.’

  Korhan almost spat his food out. ‘Mir§a Vashni! I shall waste away without proper sustenance! Are there no exceptions to your rule? Why do you wish to impose this restriction upon me?’

  ‘Ri§ine, I am amazed you question this. Sometimes I find you surprisingly perceptive and interesting for a human, but other times, such as now you seem very dull. You accidentally touched the mind of your horse; you sensed its feelings. If you kill animals for meat, they suffer. And despite what you think, you do not need meat in your diet. Ther
e are a few exceptions to my rule – oysters are one. They are of course an animal, but they do not possess a mind, not even a simple one, they are as mindless as a plant, so are incapable of suffering. Any other beast, is off the menu for you while you are my Ri§ine, are we clear?’

  Korhan’s face dropped in dismay. At every turn, maintaining this situation became less and less tenable. Was she trying to subdue him into breaking off their agreement? His stubbornness made him stiffen his resolve. He could always go back to eating meat later. He decided after careful consideration, he could try it; even this unexpected privation could be managed. ‘Yes, Mir§a Vashni, I will refrain from partaking of meat.’

  She gave him an appraising look. ‘Good. It will do you good to lose a few pounds anyway, you are heavy and slow. Have you finished your meal and drink? I am tired and wish to rest, but before I do I shall whisper to you again.’

  Korhan chewed for a few moments, wolfed down some more bread and fruit, then drained his cup of wine. He thought about this situation, and found himself torn. Being robbed of his senses was a terrifying experience, but he knew he’d learned from it. He thought about calling the whole thing off, but a glance up at Vashni’s lithe form, and he changed his mind. He found himself not simply attracted to her, but interested in her too, her strange ways, her ancient culture, her enigmatic mind. If nothing else he wished to learn all he could both from her, and about her. Besides which he could not allow her to best him.

  Korhan smiled. ‘I am ready.’

  Vashni pointed to the floor in front of the door. ‘Lie on the floor against the door, blocking the way.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Questions again, Ri§ine?’

  Korhan obediently got on the floor against the door. ‘Sorry Mir§a Vashni.’

  She knelt on the floor next to him and moved her head near to his ear. ‘I’m going whisper to you again now. This is a special whisper though. I am going “lock you in”.’

  ‘To the room? What do you mean?’

  ‘Shhhh, I am going to stop all your senses, your sight, your hearing, your smell, your sense of touch, everything. I am going to cut your mind off from the physical world completely.’

  Fear gripped Korhan, this sounded too extreme - he started to get up. ‘No, you cannot do that to me!’

  She pressed him back down gently with her hands. ‘Shhh, do not worry, I will allow no harm to come to you while you are locked in. I want you to explore and know your own mind, without the distractions of the physical world. I appreciate this may seem hard, but you can learn much from this experience, and I have a task for you; I want to you try to ascertain how much time passes between me locking you in and unlocking you. Will you do this for me, Ri§ine Korhan?’

  At this point he was more torn than ever. She’d given him no indication of how long she intended to keep him in this state, trapped inside his own body with no means of even communicating with the world until she had undone whatever she did. He considered that actually they should be leaving the next day, so he couldn’t be locked in for longer than twelve to sixteen hours. The fact she seemed to want him to act as a sort of doorstop while he was prone suggested it would be at least ten hours. Perhaps he could sleep for some of the ordeal.

  Resigning himself to her care, he nodded and lay still. She placed her mouth near his ear and began whispering. ‘Ri§ine, §hui abelk o§u §inair§a rai, §hui abelk o§u §inair§a oreo, §hui abelk o§u §inair§a mak§i §a §i overuisha.’

  As she whispered, Korhan felt his senses dull, then vanish. He tensed as his eyes closed against his wishes. The experience of his hearing, smell, and touch senses seemed stranger as they faded into nothingness. He was immediately paralysed, his ability to move and sensation of touch quickly fading. The touch of the stone floor beneath him diminished, until he felt like he was floating, adrift in a void. He was left with nothing but silence and darkness.

  Vashni stood, and smiled at her ‘project’. Working on him was proving far more interesting than being a thief or assassin. She had begun to hope was that she could evade her pursuers for long enough that she could see this experiment through to its conclusion. Leaving Korhan alone, trapped in the well of his own mind, she disrobed and hung up her leather and suede over clothes, then climbed into the bed and began willing herself to sleep.

  Korhan experienced an intense sensation of claustrophobia at this point, being able to think, but unable to act seemed like a cruel torture, one worse than death itself. Even his sensation of breath had faded to nothing. Fear struck him, and he longed to feel air rushing in and out of his lungs. He was a disembodied mind, trapped in a sea of black. He felt frustrated and helpless, lost in a dark wilderness. Eventually these feelings began to subside. Nothing happened, and continued to happen. Boredom crept in, but he did not want to sleep. The panic did not ease. Eventually the panic morphed into a terrified sense of dread. Vulnerable and helpless his feeling of unease forced him to seek a distraction. He found himself exploring old memories. The absence of the physical world, and his absence of senses made these memories all the more vivid. After revisiting most of his past, he began running through possible outcomes of their quest. Was it really a draconis nobilus? Would they all be vaporized by dragon fire before they got to the lair, as Silus had described? Even if they made it inside, would they be able to harm the beast? From Silus’s account it didn’t seem likely. These thoughts, coupled with the unease of his situation began to forge a growing feeling of impending doom. But these fears, too, subsided eventually, as his grip on the practical and physical world slipped, even in memory. He was left with the horror of being alone in the dark, helpless to do anything about it.  Loneliness crept in, he began to think about Vashni. Ever since he’d agreed to their ‘Mir§a, Ri§ine relationship’ she’d had him at her mercy and had been inflicting greater and greater tortures on him, almost as if she wanted to take him to breaking point. Yet already he was sure he knew himself better. He considered himself mentally stronger for the experiences, difficult as they were to endure.

  While this had been transpiring, Saul Karza led the rest of the group to the administrative building off the town square. All of the riders were quite astonished at the difference between Trest and Briem. Trest was typical of backwater towns, but Briem seemed clean and orderly, the air didn’t carry a foul aroma like Trest and the streets weren’t awash with mud and excrement. As they rode through the streets they noticed various indicators that the town was in a state of disrepair or decay, but the streets were surprisingly clean. Had Vashni been with them, and they’d cared to ask her, she would have explained that a complex system of pipes and gullies under the cobbled streets brought clean water into the city and flushed waste away. Some parts of the city had large chunks of incomplete elvish architecture, but in many parts only the foundations of the grand, ancient buildings remained.

  An exception to this was the Berger’s residence, which was also the great hall responsible for the running of the town. Most of the ancient elvish architecture was intact, and that which wasn’t appeared to have been restored with some care, in a genuine attempt to blend in with the fine, but weathered workmanship of the elves.

  The guards outside the administrative centre cast nervous looks at the band of warriors approaching; Saul remained on his horse to address them. ‘Soldiers of Briem, greetings. I am Saul Karza, emissary of Empress Jade, blessed be her name. I would speak with the Berger if he is available.’

  The guards exchanged a nervous glance, then the younger of the two scampered inside. After a brief pause a man who appeared to be the Berger appeared, flanked by several crossbow-wielding guards. He wore fine furs and well-tailored clothes. Like the Berger of Trest he was crowned with only a simple iron band. He was young for a Berger too, not quite clean-shaven, but with his hair cropped short. He sported a sullen, serious expression, as if he felt the weight of time and worry on his shoulders. He strode up to Saul’s horse, his guards training their sights on the companions. ‘Well now,
what might this strange group be riding up to my door for?’

  Saul raised his hand, palm upwards. ‘My Lord Berger. We are performing an errand for Empress Jade, which requires our presence at the foothills of the Sky Cleavers. However, whilst on the road we found ourselves waylaid by bandits. I regret to inform you Berger, but most of the bandits were slain. We were only able to take the leader captive, named Gedric I believe. We brought him here to face your judgement, as we have brought the bandit’s meagre takings.’

  As he finished talking, his horse shuffled sideways, revealing the cart with the battered wooden chest on board, along with Gedric. The Berger took one look at the mindless wreck. ’What foul fate befell this man, to leave him in this wretched state?’

  This left Saul with an uncomfortable decision – to reveal the presence of an elf in their party or not? The Berger had thus far made no comment on the presence of Votrex or Brael, but there seemed little to no reason to reveal her, too. ‘A work of magic Berger, used in self-defence, appears to have left Gedric with this strange malady. I cannot say how long it will take for him to recover.’

  The Berger immediately cast a suspicious glance directly at Brael. ‘Magic? Are we safe from your spells?’

  Saul paused for thought. ‘The member of our party who inflicted this curse upon him acted as I said, in self-defence. We mean you no harm. What will you do with Gedric, and the bandit’s loot?’

  The Berger studied the crouched form on the cart for a moment, before raising his head. ‘I think we shall relieve Gedric of his burdensome life. Tomorrow perhaps. I will add the loot to the town coffers. I have a hard time acquiring enough coin to pay the Empress’ tithe at the best of times, so this will help. Besides which, finding the loot’s original owners would be impossible.’

  Votrex spat in disgust. ‘Is human life so worthless here, too, that you execute people without even a trial?’

  The Berger looked up at the dwarf. ‘He needs no trial, Gedric is well known to us. For a long time he was constantly in trouble for not paying his taxes. Recently we learned he’d taken to banditry. As for the value of life, what value do you suppose his life has now? Look at him! He has no mind; any fool can tell. It will be a kindness not an act of cruelty.’

  Votrex pleaded. ‘He may recover in time! Besides, what of his family?’

  ‘He has a wife and a child, but he is clearly not in a fit state to support them. She struggles to feed her family as it is, and releasing him to her will only give her an additional mouth to feed. It may seem harsh, but in the long run this is for the best.’

  ‘Hah! You tax a man into ruin,’ Votrex spat, shaking with rage, ‘you force him into criminality, then execute him when he is handed to you helplessly! You consider this for the best? The best for whom? How do you know he will not recover and be a better man for his experience?’

  Throughout Votrex’s rant Saul sat nervously in his saddle, his unease growing. The Berger’s guards had their hands on their weapons. He braced himself for a repeat of Trest.

  The Berger looked a little offended by the time Votrex had paused for breath. ‘Tax a man to ruin? I suggest you widen your vision dwarf. I have a town to maintain, soldiers to pay, buildings to repair, beggars and homeless to support. Do not take me for a tyrant, for I am not. Gedric was perfectly able to pay his meagre taxes but he chose not to. He spent all he earned in the alehouse, either drinking or gambling. His family will mourn him, but they may also be relieved that he is gone. On many occasions he returned home, having drunk too much ale and lost too much at the gaming table, only to take it out on his wife. I swear by Ishar, there were times when he would have beaten her to death; had not his son ran and fetched the soldiers. People need to see that justice has been done.’

  Votrex shuffled uneasily in his saddle and muttered under his breath, looking at the broken man on the cart and thinking about Vashni’s description of her exploration of his mind. An evil, brutish man. Then you had to consider what he’d tried to do to Vashni. However, one also had to accept that this man became what he was through the life that shaped him.  Increasingly, Votrex began to think of Durgheim Holt, where life had seemed so much more straight-forward. Not easy, but rational, predictable. These humans seemed to continually pervert what they called good and evil, life and death. Someone had to play the judge, but who, and how? He plucked at one of his braids unhappily. These things were complicated.

  The soldiers helped Gedric from the cart, and more soldiers took the chest and the cart away. Silus trotted closer to the front. ‘Are we not to be rewarded for bringing these vagabonds to justice?’

  The Berger gave a deep sigh. ‘Alas, Briem is an expensive town to maintain and I cannot afford to fill your purses. I will however, invite you to feast with me tonight. I know it is little recompense for risking your lives, I wish I could give you more. What I will do is ensure you are given all the food and ale you desire.’

  Harald smiled. ‘That is kind of you Berger, two further members of our party have retired to the inn, are we to extend your invitation to them too?’

  The Berger nodded. ‘Of course. Come join me in our feasting hall, an hour after sunset.’

  Saul nodded. ‘Good, we will stable our horses and organise our provisions, then meet you there.’

  The Berger turned and walked up the stairs back into the administrative building, looking troubled. Saul, turned his horse around and trotted back to the ‘Freais Folly’, the others following. They spotted where Korhan had stabled his and Vashni’s steeds and installed theirs alongside.

  As they strode into the inn, the maiden who had served Vashni eyed him suspiciously. ‘Saul Karza?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Your friend asked not to be disturbed; she has secured your rooms though. Would you like me to show you to them?’

  ‘Yes please, and I would speak with her anyway. The Berger has invited us to feast with him tonight.’

  ‘You are to feast with the Berger!’ she gasped, ‘Very well, follow me.’ The maiden, flustered, showed them to two rooms, where they deposited their bags. Afterwards, Harald, Votrex, Silus and Brael went to wait outside and Saul followed her to Vashni and Korhan’s room.

  Saul rapped on the door. ‘Mistress Vashni? Lady elf? Korhan?’ After a pause Vashni’s voice echoed from within. ‘What do you want wizard? I asked not to be disturbed!’

  ‘The Berger has asked us to feast with him tonight. Will you join us?’

  ‘No, now please do not disturb me again unless it is of the utmost importance!’

  ‘My apologies. Can I take the answer to be the same for Korhan?’

  ‘Yes, he is doing an exercise, which occupies him completely. His training is far more important than debauching with some local lord. Leave us!’

  ‘As you wish, lady Vashni.’

  With that Saul left, feeling a little troubled. Korhan of course had heard nothing of this; he was trapped in his body, cut off from the world, trying to fathom how long she had kept him in this state. He was also panicking; he thought he’d been in this state for far longer than he had in reality, that something might have happened to Vashni and it could be that he would never escape this torment.

  Walking outside, Saul shook his head at the others. ‘Korhan and Lady Vashni are not joining us. Come, let us go.’ The companions followed Saul through the streets. Dusk had since fallen and the streets were lit by the occasional lamps. Most of the inhabitants of Briem had retired for the night and the streets were quiet and peaceful. When they got to the administrative building, the table was already set. The feast was taking place in the main hall, which made up the majority of the front of the large building. A roaring fire had been set, and fruits, meats and ales were already in place along the table.

  The Berger appeared to be hosting several other guests – merchants with influence and high-ranking soldiers. As they entered, one of the servants approached them, a young girl. ‘Saul Karza and company? This way please, the Berger will be down shortly, he i
s tending to his daughter.’

  Saul followed the girl towards the head of the table. ‘The Berger’s daughter? Is that what has been troubling him recently?’

  ‘Yes. She was bitten by a snake, an adder I believe, while out hunting several days ago and she suffers greatly for it. We fear the worse for her. If the Berger seems unkind or troubled then this will surely be why.’

  Saul nodded and took his seat. The companions sat at opposite sides of the table, next to the Berger’s chair at the head. Serving girls brought jugs of ale, mead and wine around and filled their mugs. Plates were brought back and forth with apples, pears, grapes, warm, freshly baked buns, steaming chicken wings and drumsticks, cuts of beef and roasted vegetables. The centrepiece was a whole roast hog, born forth by four burly men and placed on the table. Silus, Harald, Votrex and Saul began to gather food to their plates and accepted mugs of ale and mead. While they were eating, the Berger, flanked by two guards, entered down a flight of intricately carved stone steps at the edge of the hall.

  As he wolfed down his food, Harald pointed up to a great sword hanging over the fireplace. The weapon was unusual in that it was long, with a long two handed handle, but it had a curved, painstakingly carved blade and a yellowish hue. ‘Why would a fine weapon like that be left on display instead of being put to use?’

  Silus eyed the blade for a moment before answering. ‘It may be not a weapon for using, but merely a ceremonial sword, to be taken down for some special occasion.’

  Votrex chuckled. ‘It’s elvish. That’s why it’s there... The elves are known to “lock” their weapons to an individual or group, so that only they may wield them.’

  Silus snorted. ‘Humph! How can you tell?’

  ‘Everything about it! The engraving on the blade, the shape, the metal... Tis elvish, there’s no other possibility.’

  At that point the Berger sat down; instead of picking food for himself, one of his servants filled a plate for him and handed it to him. Saul paused eating and leaned towards the Berger. ‘How fares your daughter, Berger?’

  ‘Not well, Saul Karza,’ he replied, mechanically picking at his food. ‘I fear she will die within days if not hours.’

  Saul stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘Have not your healers and magicians tended to her? The servant said it was an adder bite. Surely this should not be fatal?  How many years has she?’

  ‘My mage, alas, succumbed to the pox last spring. Inept as he was, he was unable to save himself. So I doubt he could save her, even if he were still with us. The apothecary has prescribed various herbs to soothe her, though none appear to be effective.’

  ‘That is sad to hear. I am an acolyte of the Cormarothian College of Wizardry, and have studied many texts on the healing arts. Would you like me to see if I can do anything for her?’

  The Berger forced a smile. ‘If you believe you have any chance of helping, then I would be eternally grateful.’

  Saul nodded. ‘As you wish; I am fed and watered well enough, take me to her.’

  The Berger rose from the table and headed for the stairs. Saul followed, his expression turning grave as he climbed the steps. The rest of the administrative building was also quite richly furnished; it took several minutes to get to the upper floors at the back of the building where the Berger and his family resided. His apartment was a large room with living area; kitchen and dining area all within, bedrooms were separated from the main room by doors.  The Berger headed to one of the doors after they’d crossed the threshold into the apartment. ‘This way...’

  Saul followed him to a carved oak door. The Berger pushed it open gently, revealing a small bedroom, lit by soft lamplight. On the bed lay a young teenager, on top of the covers, her right leg swollen and red, but her face looking pale, gaunt and clammy. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed mopping her brow with a wet cloth.  The Berger gestured towards her. ‘Saul, my wife, Elaine... How is she?’

  ‘She fares worse, Karras. Much worse, I fear she will not last the night.’

  Saul approached the bed. ‘Please, let me examine her.’ They parted a little and Saul stepped right up to the bed. Her leg and her torso were swollen; she seemed to be struggling to remain conscious. The site of the bite was clearly visible, infected and putrid looking. Any hopes Saul had of helping the girl were shattered as soon as he saw her properly. Her wounds had festered and she was in the grip of a terrible fever, sweating profusely.  He paused, thought about remedies he could administer and gave a deep sigh. ‘Berger, I can do nothing. She is dying. Had I been here but a day sooner I may have been-’

  ‘Is there nothing you can do?’ The concern in Elaine’s face pulled at Saul’s heart, but he couldn’t deceive her. ‘No, I fear not though, perhaps...’

  The Berger peered at him, questioningly. ‘Speak Saul Karza, what is on your mind?’

  ‘I cannot help her, but I know one who might, might be able to. I do not want to give you false hope though; even if I can get my esteemed colleague to help, she may not be able to save your daughter. Your daughter is weak and the infection appears to be spreading.’

  The Berger grabbed his shoulders. ‘Do it! Please do not tarry. Fetch this person at once and I will make it worth your while.’

  ‘As you wish; wait here.’ He turned on his heel and stormed out of the apartments and through the great hall.

  The others cast him a concerned glance as he exited, but he waved to them to continue eating and padded down the shadowy streets as fast as his tired feet would carry him, back to the ‘Freais Folly’ inn. When he got to the inn he rushed straight to Vashni’s room and rapped on the door. ‘Mistress Vashni, Your impressive abilities are needed! Lady Vashni!’

  After much knocking and pleading came a reply, ’Go away Master wizard! I told you quite clearly, I do not wish to be disturbed until morning!’

  ‘Lady Vashni, the Berger’s daughter has been bitten by an adder. In addition to the venom the wound appears infected; she is weak indeed and I doubt she will last the night.’

  ‘That’s a shame; give my condolences to the Berger, wizard. Oh, and leave me in peace!’ Saul felt deflated; he’d not considered the possibility that convincing her to come to the Berger’s daughters’ aid would be difficult. He’d hoped she’d come running and work her magic without question, and everything would be alright.

  ‘Vashni, please, she is going to die and I believe you can help her.’

  The voice from beyond the door sounded increasingly annoyed. ‘What an astute observation wizard! I could help her, but I choose not to; I wish to sleep, now go away.’

  ‘Please! I will be in your debt!’

  ‘You are already in my debt, wizard. Do you wish to become even more so?’

  ‘I am sure your assistance would please the Berger.’

  ‘I am sure it would, but my experiences thus far of your so called Bergers are that they bear a tendency for tyranny.’

  Saul racked his brains, he needed something to would spark her interest, her curiosity. Value or morality seemed secondary to Vashni – amusement, entertainment, interest seemed the currency most likely to sway her. ‘I am sure that this man is more honourable than most, and would reward you with something worthy of your skills.’

  ‘In this shoddy excuse for a town? I doubt they have anything they could offer that I would care for.’

  ‘Oh, I do know that the Berger possesses an interesting elvish artefact. A sword, I believe. I wondered if maybe helping the Berger in this way might persuade him to-’

  ‘What sort of sword? How do you know it is elvish?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not entirely sure I’m afraid, but I heard Votrex say it was elvish, and a very fine piece. He seems knowledgeable about these things. Anyway, seeing as you are unwilling to help I will go and tend to her myself, I can’t save her but I might be capable of easing her pain.’

  He’d thrown his lot into the gambit; the sword seemed the best thing to peak her curiosity, he hoped it was sufficient; there seemed little m
ore he could do. Vashni was lying in bed considering her options. The promise of an elvish artefact had aroused her interest, and despite her desire to continue sleeping, thinking about the situation made her consider ways in which having a town Berger in her debt might provide scope for further sport. After a short deliberation she threw back her covers and climbed out of bed. She quickly dressed, having slept in her delicate undergarments. She pulled on her fitted leather shirt, trousers, boots, then her cloak and black gloves. Kneeling on the floor she placed her lips near Korhan’s ear and began whispering.

  ‘Ri§ine, cor§ou§a o§u §hui abelk o§u §inair§a oreo, §hui abelk o§u §inair§a mak§i §a §i overuisha....’

  Korhan had been mentally in tears. He’d drifted off to sleep once, maybe twice, only to wake in terror, paralysed and cut off from the world. The truth was, he’d lost all sense of time and had been trying to reach out to Vashni with his mind, to plead with her to ‘unlock’ him. As he heard her faint whisper in his head, relief washed over him.  He regained sensation in his limbs and his ability to smell and hear returned. These senses seemed more vivid, perhaps because of their brief absence.  He gasped, shocked at his lack of sight as much as the return of his other senses. Slowly he unfolded and tried to sit up. ‘Urgh! Mir§a Vashni, why has my eyesight not returned?’

  ‘Silly, because I haven’t restored it yet! I want you tell me how much time has passed first, how long would do say it has been since I locked you in?’

  Korhan sighed exasperated. ‘I... I don’t know... I...’

  ‘Shhhh, keep calm, make a guess. How much time do you think has passed?’

  Korhan paused, deep in thought. Finally he sighed. ‘Is it the next morning?’

  She sighed in dismay. ‘No, tis later the same day! Only dusk has fallen. Perhaps we should repeat this exercise?’

  Korhan whimpered at the suggestion. ‘Mir§a Vashni, please, no.’ instinctively, he reached out for her and gently held her, pressing his head onto her chest.

  She held him and wrapped an arm around him and stroked his hair with her other hand. ‘Shhhh, there, there, Ri§ine. Do not fear, we shall not repeat this exercise until you are fully recovered. I shall give you some time to reflect on your experience. Now, we will join the Berger’s feast and I will allow you to keep your senses for a spell. At the feast, remember what I said, you are not to partake of any meats, only fruit, vegetables, bread and dairy, and you shall only drink one ale. I do not want your senses dulled. I am going to restore your sight now.’

  She placed her lips near his ear and whispered. ‘Ri§ine, cor§ou§a o§u §inair§a rai.’

  He opened his eyes with a gasp; he was still in Vashni’s gentle embrace. Her frame felt strange and inhuman, she was so incredibly thin, and light, but strong and powerful. She was a web of paradoxes – small but powerful, young but old, friendly but... His early aspirations of forming a relationship with her were disintegrating, she seemed too different, and she seemed to treat him more like a child or student, than as an equal. She gave him a gentle but firm push away and stood. ‘Come Ri§ine.’

  He groggily climbed to his feet and followed her out of the room, through the inn and out onto the cobbled street. Leaving the inn she pulled her hood up, hiding her face and long, pointed ears. By the time they had stridden to the administrative building Saul Karza had already entered. Vashni leapt deftly up the steps, with Korhan close behind. As they entered, few faces turned to inspect them; those that did, paid them little or no attention. Vashni studied the room, the big open fire, the torches, the guests... Her eyes rested on the great sword hanging over the fireplace.

  Unseen to the room her eyes lit up and she headed straight for the sword, beckoning Korhan over her shoulder. Drawing closer she scanned her eyes over the elegant sword, reading the elvish writing carved onto the blade and the pommel. She chuckled softly as she did, then pointed to the benches where Brael, Votrex, Silus and Harald were seated. ‘Sit Ri§ine, eat. Remember; one ale and no meats.’ With that she darted towards the steps. At that point Saul appeared at the top and gestured for the guards to let her pass.

  Korhan sat and glanced about his companions, who were all giving him a bemused look. Brael was chewing on a roasted chicken leg; he pulled it away from his mouth. ‘How fare you, Avil? Has Vashni trained you in the art of mental defence?’

  ‘No. Though tis not for want of trying. Her lessons are hard, but I feel somehow, different, I am changing; she is changing me.’

  Harald smirked. ‘Into her hand maiden?’ This brought a round of good natured sniggers.

  Silus, busy munching a thick slice of pork, paused. ‘If you ask me Northman, she is making a fool out of you, and she is doing so for her own perverse entertainment. You should cease fawning over her and following her instructions like a servant girl. Start acting like a man.’

  Votrex nodded. ‘Aye, she’s made fool enough of you Korhan, son of Brian.’

  Brael shook his head. ‘You are all correct, she is making a fool of him, but I do not believe she is not fulfilling her part of the deal. She is teaching him, I can tell. Korhan may appear witless now, acting like her servant, but if he can endure her service and learn her lessons, he will become a far more formidable warrior than you can understand.’

  Korhan nodded. ‘The gravian speaks the truth.’ As he spoke he reached over to fill his plate with some bread, fruit, vegetables and cheese. He did not add any of the pork or chicken to the pile. This caused looks of confusion, particularly from his old friend Harald, and Votrex, who had been riding with Korhan since they’d met in the capital Cormaroth. Both of them had come to perceive Korhan to be a man who was extremely fond of meat.

  Harald screwed his face up at Korhan. ‘Are you not well, Korhan son of Brian?’

  Votrex reached over with his knife and cut himself several thick cuts of pork, placing them on his plate. ‘The Berger’s meat is a finer meal than any we’ve had since leaving Cormaroth, will you not have some?’

  Korhan gazed at the meat longingly, the pork and chicken drumsticks appeared to be roasted to perfection and dripping with juices, succulent and tender. The aroma alone, the salty, greasy aroma of perfectly cooked pork teased him further. He gave a deep sigh. ‘Alas, I cannot, Mir§a Vashni has forbidden me to eat meat.’

  Silus reached over and grabbed his arm firmly. ‘Korhan! She is trying to make you an elf; you are a man! This is good food! We will not eat this well again until we ride triumphantly through the gates of Cormaroth! Or if we are killed in battle, when we take our seat in Kirkfell, the banqueting hall of the dead! Do not waste this rare opportunity to eat a good meal.’

  Korhan gazed longingly at the meat as he munched bread and cheese.

  Votrex pulled a tray of steaming chicken drumsticks towards him. ‘Here; where’s the harm in one? She need never know, you might waste away not eating any meat!  One drumstick won’t hurt. I would hate to watch you starve, Korhan son of Brian.’

  Korhan glanced at the others for approval, he saw Harald, Silus and Votrex nodding. Brael appeared more uncertain.  When Korhan’s eyes fell on him, Brael sighed deeply. ‘Do what you must Avil, but beware, if she has commanded you thusly, and you disobey her, she will be angry with you.’

  Silus rolled his solitary eye. ‘Don’t listen to him, how can she even know? Here, eat one, wash it down with a mug of ale, and some bread and cheese and she’ll be none the wiser!’

  Korhan’s mouth was watering. Harald pushed the plate of drumsticks towards him. ‘Have one. You can tell her we bullied you into eating it, if she discovers your action and scolds you.’

  Korhan reached towards the plate and grabbed one drumstick, then without pausing took a big bite. They were right, the meat was cooked to perfection. It truly did melt in his mouth. Using both hands he rolled the leg and stripped all the meat and skin off. When he spoke, his mouth was still full. ‘One drumstick can’t hurt can it?’ The others smiled, and they continued eating and drinking. By the time Vashni returned, Ko
rhan had eaten a little more meat than the one drumstick he’d originally intended. Less than he would under normal circumstances, though given the fact that for many days he had been living on dried and cured meats, he considered himself to have shown significant restraint...

  Vashni meanwhile had darted up the stairs and pushed past Saul. The guards parted for her when she entered the Berger’s apartments. The Berger and his wife had stayed with their daughter who was sweating profusely; her condition appeared grave. The swelling had gotten worse if anything and her flesh looked red and raw around the swollen area. Vashni beckoned Saul in, then closed and barred the door behind her. The Berger stared at her. ‘Who are you?’

  Saul introduced her. ‘This is Vashni. She may-’

  Vashni pulled back her hood causing the Berger and his wife to gasp. ‘Elf!’ Vashni gestured for them to give her some room, which they did. She stepped closer and examined the girl, the bite wound, her limbs her torso.  After several minutes she turned to the Berger. ‘She is dying. I can save her, but at a cost.’

  The Berger looked at her. ‘Name your price! I would pay you a thousand gold piece-’

  ‘Pffft! I am not interested in your coin. I want Harbinger.’

  The Berger formed a puzzled expression on his face. ‘Harbinger? What do you mean?’

  ‘The elvish great sword hanging up in the main hall. Give me the sword and I will ensure she lives.’

  The Berger spat. ‘Hah! That weapon is useless anyway; none can wield it due to some enchantment placed upon it. Many mighty warriors have attempted to wield the blade without success.’

  ‘So we have a deal? I need to know your daughter’s name. Also I would like some time alone with her. How long I cannot say, this task will take as long as it takes.’

  The Berger looked worriedly at his wife, then to Saul who shrugged, suggesting that the choice was theirs.

  Elaine seemed to take the initiative; she stood. ‘Come Karras, she will die if we do nothing. We have nothing to lose. Her name is Angela.’

  Vashni unbarred the door and gestured for them to leave. ‘Good. Now, please go, I have work to do.’

  The Berger and his wife cast uncertain glances at the diminutive, leather-clad elf as they left, then Vashni beckoned Saul towards the door too. ‘You too wizard. To remove the venom, cure the sepsis, heal the infection and repair all the damaged tissue is going to be a long and difficult task. I need to be able to concentrate, and you hanging around prying and analysing what I am doing will hinder me. Go!’

  Saul gave a reluctant bow to her and scurried out after the Berger, flashing Angela a brief, longing glance as he left. He would dearly loved to have stayed to learn something of the elf’s healing powers. Vashni pushed the door shut after him and threw the bar.

  Quietly, she retreated to Angela’s bed, sitting herself on the side of the bed. The girl was beyond communication. So Vashni pressed her fingers on the girl’s temples and entered her mind. What met her was terrible, a world of agony and sorrow. Angela for her part was delirious, enduring a nightmare of hurt and suffering. A silken, hypnotic voice entered her head. ‘Shhhh, my name is Vashni... I am here to help you... Try to relax and listen... If you hear what I say, embrace it; cherish my words... And you will make my work all the easier.’

  Her voice was calm and soothing; when she exited the girls mind, the girl already looked slightly better. Next Vashni leaned closer, placed her lips to Angela’s ear and began whispering, after some time she moved her lips down to the point of the bite and whispered some more.

  The process was long and tiring, Vashni alternating between whispering into Angela’s ear and whispering to various parts of her body. As time drew on, foul smelling ichor oozed out of the bite wound, venom, infected blood, dead tissue. By the time Vashni was satisfied the wound was safe to close, the bed sheets were stained a browny red and smelled foul. The task took over two hours to complete and when she had finished, she uttered a final whisper into Angela’s ear commanding her to sleep for twelve hours.

  Drawn and extremely weary, Vashni rose and took a final look at the patient. The sweating had stopped; she looked healthy and happy, but asleep. Vashni unbarred the door and pulled it open. The Berger, his wife and Saul were sitting outside.  They looked up when the door opened, their faces full of concern. Vashni shrugged, and let out an exhausted sigh. ‘She will live. She will sleep until lunch time tomorrow and she will be weak for many days, but her life is no longer in danger.’ She wiped her hands on a towel in a business-like manner. ‘Now Berger, I am tired. I will collect “Harbinger” and my Ri§ine, then retreat to my bed. Tell nobody I am here. I do not wish the presence of an elf in Torea to become common knowledge, particularly one that is skilled in the art of healing. I do not care for the possibility of every hapless individual in the land chasing around for me, pleading with me to tend to their ailing relatives.’

  The Berger considered questioning her, could he trust her? But then he rushed to the door and peered in, it was clear she spoke the truth and he let out a long sigh of relief. As Vashni walked wearily away, pulling her hood up as she went, Saul pressed a palm on the Berger’s shoulder. ‘Lord Karras, will you reconsider executing Gedric?’

  Karras turned to Saul as Elaine rushed past crying tears of joy.  ‘Saul, I could reconsider, but for what purpose?’

  ‘To save a man’s life?’

  ‘What life? Did you not see the expression on his face? There is nothing behind those eyes now, he seems unable to fathom the simple task of walking - so what kind of life can he look forward to? Are his wife and son likely to thank me for bestowing this burden upon them? Ask yourself this Saul Karza: if you were in this state, a mindless shell, little more than a lump of meat, what would you prefer? To wile away your days sitting in your own excrement, being spoon fed by your carer, unable to speak, or communicate, unable even to think, only able to suffer? Or to have your life ended in one swift stroke, and not by your own hand, thereby giving you safe passage into the next life, keeping you fit for Avanti’s judgement? I visited him Saul, after you had left. I tried to get through to him, to reason with him – but there was nothing there. He is an empty shell now, unable even to make eye-contact.’

  Saul listened, heavy hearted. The man had a point, especially if Gedric’s condition turned out to be permanent. It was despicable to think this, but perhaps true mercy lay not in withholding the axe, but in allowing the axe to fall.  On the other hand, did the Berger possess the right to decide the worth of Gedric’s life? Surely it was Avanti’s place to judge. Saul smiled at the Berger. ‘Would you at least allow his wife and son to visit him before his execution?’

  ‘And would you, were you in his position desire that?’ Karras asked quietly. ‘Would you wish your family to see your empty shell?’ He looked down at his hands. ‘Though perhaps, you are right. They have suffered enough at Gedric’s failures and under his whip; I believe they at least have the right to decide whether they wish to visit him before he meets his demise.’

  ‘And if they wished for him not to be executed?’

  ‘I would not offer for them to change his fate. In doing so I would place his fate in their hands and guilt may force them into a decision that is bad for him and bad for them. Better, that I relieve them of that responsibility.’

  Saul watched the Berger gaze fixedly towards his daughter’s room. ‘You are a wise man Karras, cold, but wise. Thank you for considering my requests. May your daughter recover well. I believe she will. Though perhaps you should pray for Ishar’s guidance this evening, after all – if he sent Vashni to save your daughter, maybe there was a reason.’

  ‘There is wisdom in your words Saul. The people will want to know justice has been served, but perhaps Gedric’s condition is justice enough. Goodnight Saul.’

  At this point Vashni was trudging down the stairs; healing the Berger’s daughter had been tiring. It always was when trying to heal old injuries – not simply removing venom and sealing, but calling o
ut deep rooted infection and dead flesh; it had taken a great deal of energy and concentration to complete. Nearing the bottom of the stairs her eyes drifted over to where Korhan and the others were sitting, looking a little sheepish. She strode straight over, examining the table in front of them. She noticed the nibbled chicken bones on Korhan’s plate and scowled. ‘I see you’ve chosen to disobey me Ri§ine!’

  Silus looked up. ‘Leave him be elf! A man cannot sustain himself on bread and cheese alone, he needs meat!’ She placed her hands on the table and leaned close to Silus. ‘You are wrong dragon slayer, besides which, tis none of your business what he eats and doesn’t eat. He is my Ri§ine, he is under my care. He will eat what I deem fit and nothing else!’

  Korhan felt terrible, he pleaded at her. ‘Mir§a Vashni, I am sorry, I-‘

  ‘Silence Ri§ine! We shall discuss your insubordination back at the inn. Remove the sword from the wall, carry it by the blade, do not touch the handle.’

  ‘But-‘

  ‘The weapon is now mine; acquired from the Berger for services rendered. Pick the weapon up and follow me. Now!’

  He stumbled quickly to his feet, shying away from the venom in her voice. As he took the sword down the Berger appeared at the top of the stairs with Saul and waved to his men that it was okay for the sword to be taken.

  Soon Vashni was storming down the street, her face twisted in a vision of rage. Korhan was stumbling and ambling along behind, the elven blade in his hands. She didn’t pause at the inn, but walked straight in and up to their room, closing and barring the door behind them. Immediately she approached Korhan and whispered to him. ‘§ara Shoriuda di§airm §uisquira shom.’

  Helpless to resist he knelt down and kissed her boot. Then he rose, but before he could straighten up she whispered to him again. ‘§ara Shoriuda di§airm §uisquira shom.’ and again he grovelled on the floor and kissed her suede boot.

  ‘You are pathetic Ri§ine! You show no willpower or fortitude of mind. I give up, I release you from my service. Your training has ended!’

  Korhan looked at her in desperation. ‘Mir§a Vashni please! I tried to resist. The others, they... They were sure you would not mind a small amount! I-’

  She cut him off by stepping forwards and clamping her fingertips onto his temples. She gripped harder and forced her way into his head. He could sense her entering and he tried to build false memories, emphasising the coercion of his comrades, but her voice echoed out in his head, ‘Do not try to conceal anything from me barbarian! If you put up barriers to the truth in your mind, I shall tear them down... Painfully if needs be! Relax and allow me to examine your memories lest I leave you in a similar state to poor Gedric!’ Begrudgingly, fearful of the damage she could inflict on him even if her threat was more for effect than true intent, he lowered his mental barriers and allowed her to probe his memories. He experienced the conversation at the table being replayed, over and over again, he could almost sense her considering the implications of what was being said. It felt invasive, more so than before, he found himself cringing and finding it hard not to resist her mental probe.

  Eventually having examined his memories in detail, she exited his head, leaving him feeling shaken and disorientated.

  ‘You speak a grain of truth Ri§ine. You did make a rather half-hearted attempt to resist your temptation. Perhaps the best that could be hoped for from a weak-minded human. Though I am still disappointed in you. I do not know what to do with you Ri§ine. Should I release you from my service and end your training? Or should I punish you and continue our relationship?’

  Korhan looked at her, she appeared, beneath her anger, a touch triumphant. The outrage had faded a little. He remembered being locked in and shuddered. It was possibly the most horrible experience of his life. At the same time he couldn’t shake his infatuation with her, and the monopoly on her company this arrangement seemed to promote. He also knew that despite his evident failure to succeed at her tasks he was becoming better, more aware of himself. It was early days yet, mere hours since he’d embarked upon this endeavour, yet he knew he was changing.

  ‘Mir§a Vashni, what punishment had you in mind?’

  ‘Hah! Tradition would dictate that I should take you over my knee and beat your rebellion out of you, but I am not inclined to waste precious energy and tire myself out giving you corporal punishment. Hmmmm, what to do with you...’

  She paused, rubbing her chin and cocking her head to one side. In time a subtle smile grew on her thin lips and her facial expression softened. ‘I may have a solution, Ri§ine. I have set myself the task of improving you, so that is what I shall do. I must take care of my Ri§ine, not punish him! Here is my condition to continue our relationship: you shall allow me to place a “resonating whisper” upon you. This is much like any other whisper, except all whispers to people will wear off in time. The grains of flesh in your body are constantly renewing themselves and dying, so in time any whisper that is given to an individual will fade as the flesh dies. A resonating whisper is different, it reinforces itself all the time to ensure it is permanent and stays with you for life. Or until such time as you can resist a whispering.’

  ‘What do you intend to do to me?’

  ‘Do to you? I wish to give you a rare gift, placing a resonating whisper upon someone is a tiring, difficult task, only possible by the most skilled whisperers. The function I have in mind, is a whisper that will cause you to dislike meat. No more than that. The mere thought of eating meat will make you feel ill, a little sick. If you do partake of any meat, fish or poultry, then you will vomit it back up.’ She stepped closer, reaching up and gently gripping the side of his face in her gloved hand. ’You will no longer be physically able to eat meat. The only exception is bivalves, oysters, which I deem appropriate to consume. Anything else will cause you to be violently ill. This will save you the trouble of having to test your willpower at the dining table.’ She lowered her hand and turned her back on him sharply. ‘It will do you good Ri§ine. Do you accept my condition?’

  Korhan looked uncertain. ‘Permanent? And if our relationship for whatever reason ends, before such a time as I am able to resist whispering, you will remove this whisper?’

  ‘No, removing meat from your diet will do you good regardless of whether you continue as my Ri§ine or not. Meat is heavy and full of protein; it slows you down and dulls your senses. If our relationship ends, then I will have left you with one thing which has improved you at least and my time with you will not have been a complete waste.’

  Korhan sighed. Permanent! He remembered the meal he’d just been eating, he imagined never being able to enjoy such a feast again. He’d always been fond of meat, eating it at every opportunity. It was part of his culture, surviving in the steppes of Silavria would be hard indeed if one had to rely on grains and fruit, at the same time he could understand why she had such a strong opinion about this. He’d touched his horse’s mind. Or what it had of a mind. And though his steed was not able to think in a coherent way, the animal suffered, feared and trusted. The minds of the beasts which he’d so often consumed would perhaps be similar. Cows, chickens, sheep, pigs; he was finding himself torn. He understood why she wanted to enforce this rule, but his love of meat pulled at him, urging him to refuse. He licked his lips, the taste of roast chicken still clinging to his tongue.

  After much silent deliberation his growing fascination with Vashni got the better of him. He considered that their relationship coming to a close could cause her to leave the party. The thought that he would never see her again was like a stab in his ribs.

  ‘I accept this condition. Perform your whisper.’

  Her face glowed with triumph. ‘Good. This whisper will take a long time to implant, I must embed it deep in your subconscious; you must embrace my words and accept them wholeheartedly. Now, lie on the bed, on your side, facing the wall. I wish to get comfortable.’

  Gingerly he lay prone on the bed, gazing at the wall. He felt Vashni lie behind him, her bre
ath on the back of his neck. Her leather trousers and shirt came into contact with the back of his tunic. Then her velvet-gloved hand cupped over his exposed ear and he felt her breath on him.

  ‘Shhhh, try to relax Ri§ine. I am going to begin.’

  She began slowly, her whispering sounding unlike the former incantations. It took a different rhythm to the previous ones too, it had a penetrating quality, the syllables and words sliding together and rolling around in his head, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He did as she’d instructed, and embraced the words, accepting them with all his heart, though he didn’t understand their meaning. On occasion she would go back into her normal voice and urge him. ‘Open your mind to me Ri§ine, I wish to go deeper.’

  When she said this, he could feel himself inviting her deeper, whispering not only to his physical form but his innermost consciousness. It felt intimate, caressing, the words penetrating him and imprinting themselves on his memory.

  At some level the words started to resonate. She’d been performing this for over two hours, and her voice slowed and died down, but he felt the power of her words working their way through his mind, reinforcing and repeating themselves.

  With a deep sigh she pulled away. ‘There Ri§ine, we are done. Now go and lie in your place on the floor against the door. I have a surprise for you tomorrow.’

  He was tired, and sleepy by this point, her voice still echoing around his head. ‘Mir§a Vashni, can I not sleep alongside you on the bed?’

  ‘Do not question me Ri§ine, your place is on the floor. Now go before I decide to you punish you further.’

  He sighed. ‘Yes, Mir§a Vashni.’

  He rose sleepily out of bed and took his place on the floor blocking the doorway, while Vashni spread herself out more comfortably.  She did not change out of her clothes. She’d intended to remove his sight again, then disrobe to her undergarments, but placing the resonating whisper had been too tiring and difficult, and all she could think of doing was sleeping.

  Back at the administrative building, the feast was dying down. Saul had re-joined his companions. The fire had burned down to embers and the torches were growing dim. There’d been some banter and chuckles about Korhan being ‘under the thumb’ of the elf and Saul had told them about the Berger’s daughter and Gedric. The Berger himself had greeted them all again, thanked Saul and retreated to tend to his daughter, who appeared now to be making a slow recovery.

  Votrex drained the last jug of ale into his mug and threw it back in one gulp. Then he wiped his lips with his sleeve and stood. ‘Come, we’ve tarried long enough, we should get some sleep.’

  Harald rose next. ‘Aye, we should rise early, re-stock our saddlebags and fill our flasks, then leave. I do not wish to watch Gedric’s head roll.’

  Silus drained his mug and pushed his plate away, then stood wobbling as he dried his lips with the back of his hand. ‘He wanted to rob us,’ he slurred,’ and kill us! He clearly intended to ravage the elf, Avanti help him. To lose his head is a more merciful fate than he deserves. His pitiful life may have shaped that swine, but in the end they were still his choices, regardless.’

  Brael was already striding away from the table, muttering over his shoulder. ‘The loss of any sentient life is a tragedy, but better a vagabond’s than our own. Enough of this moral debate, let us sleep.’

  And so the warriors filed out and returned to the Freais Folly Inn, and took their beds for the night.

  As the sun rose, illuminating the stained glass window in Vashni and Korhan’s room, Vashni was already on her feet. She strode up to Korhan and gave him an undignified prod with her foot. ‘Come Ri§ine! Wake up!’

  Korhan woke; he still had the taste of last night’s feast on his breath. It should have made his mouth water, but instead the lingering flavour made him want to wretch. ‘Urgh, Mir§a Vashni. What did you do to me?!’ He tried to spit out the sickening flavour.

  ‘Excellent! I see my resonating whisper has taken. Hopefully that should prevent any further temptation for you to partake of meat. Get up, it is time I announced your reward for your obedience. My surprise.’

  He struggled wearily to his feet. ‘Surprise? Reward?’

  ‘I have decided not simply to train you in the art of mental offence and defence, but in physical offence and defence. I have decided to advance your skills in swordplay.’

  He smirked at this. ‘Hah! With respect Mir§a Vashni, I doubt there’s much you can teach me in that area. I am a renowned swordsman. I have fought in several battles. My name is not only feared by men, but by the orcs of Gharzbad and th-’

  ‘Pffft! We shall see Ri§ine. Come, bring your sword into the courtyard. I wish to test you.’

  Pleased to finally be set a task he understood, and felt sure he would win, Korhan picked up his great sword and slung it over his shoulder. Vashni strode out of the room with a confident swagger and he followed her all the way to the courtyard. From somewhere within the folds of her cloak she mysteriously drew a sword, as if it had been hidden in the lining. The blade was strange – curved and thin, longer than a short sword but shorter than a great sword, and with a handle suitable for single or double-handed combat.

  She stood apart from Korhan and swished her blade in a complex pattern. Korhan drew his mighty blade and held it upright alongside him. ‘I do not wish to hurt you, Mir§a Vashni.’

  ‘Hurt me? Touch me with your blade Northman, and I shall allow you to bed me. I swear this by Orion, the Master Creator!’

  Korhan grinned at the prospect of this prize and stepped forward.  He considered his options. After a short deliberation, he decided a playful smack on her bottom with the flat of his sword would be best. He shifted his weight one way as a feint, watched for her reaction then slipped his blade in. Of course by the time his blade was where he intended it to be, Vashni had slipped sideways, raising her blade to gently press the tip into the bottom of his chin.

  ‘You fight like a child Northman. So slow...’

  He growled and pulled away whipping his blade up. Instead of contacting her blade she lowered it and performed a back walkover in a fast, fluid motion. He glared at her, and adjusted his grip. She was smirking at him. He moved in, gesturing that he was going to tap her on the shoulder with his blade, but sweeping it around to her rump. Vashni spotted the strike and leapt high above the blade, and sideways, landing with her blade gently pressing against his stomach. If she’d used force and the edge of her blade she could easily have slashed him across the torso.

  ‘I’ve seen the Dead move faster, Ri§ine, are you alive? You appear to be moving in slow motion.’

  Korhan glared at her and renewed his attacks, swinging high, low, alternating and shifting his weight around to vary the attacks. Vashni seemed able to predict everything he tried and counter all his attacks with ease. Korhan continued his efforts, working up a sweat and fighting until the muscles in his arms burned. Every effort, every attack failed utterly. Vashni was simply far too fast and skilful for him to even trouble her. After another flurry of failed attacks, Korhan slowed, and stood panting. Vashni was not in the least out of breath. ‘Your offence is almost non-existent Ri§ine, you could not best an elf-child! Now prepare yourself, let us test your defences.’

  Vashni raised her blade and strode in, bobbing left and right.

  She was fast, so fast at times her movements were a blur, and she moved unpredictably. When she shifted her weight onto her front foot and started to rain blows on Korhan, he found himself giving ground and desperately blocking and parrying, while she laughed as she fought. Eventually her rapier-like blade swirled his hefty sword and sent it free of his grasp, clattering across the courtyard floor.

  ‘Have I proven my point Ri§ine? Do you yield?’

  He thought about gathering his blade and trying again, but he could not imagine any way of beating her. When she was moving fast, he could barely track her with his eyes, let alone land a blow on her. The speed and ferocity of her attacks
had been greater than any warrior he’d ever faced, despite her slight frame. ‘I yield Mir§a Vashni. I will accept your tutelage with the blade.’

  ‘Good. The first thing you can do is stop wielding that lump of metal you call a sword. Your weapon is crude and unbalanced, and it is not right for you!’

  ‘What? Tis the finest blade I have ever wielded, forged for me by Hangmar, Master of the Star Forge!’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m sure. It is still crude and unbalanced. You would find it more useful for splitting logs than fighting with.’

  ‘What do you suggest then?’

  ‘Well, first I shall measure you up. Pick up your sword and wait while I gather my tape measure.’

  Wearily, Korhan gathered his blade. His arms shook with exertion. Vashni darted to her saddlebags and returned carrying a small tape measure. ‘Now Ri§ine, hold out your sword, I want to examine your grip.’

  He did as she asked, holding the sword in an offensive pose. While he held his weapon she took the tape and measured the circumference of his wrists, his grip, the handle of the sword, the length of the handle, the length of the blade, his shoulder span, arm length and leg length. The measuring became quite intimate when she was measuring his inner leg. At times he would quiver, and she would scold him. ‘Keep still Ri§ine!’

  After the long and tedious measuring session, she stood up and eyed him from head to toe. ‘Your sword is too long, and too heavy Ri§ine, I am amazed you have not been killed in battle trying to fight with such an unwieldy weapon. I will customise “Harbinger” for your height and build. You will feed our horses and prepare me a light breakfast now.’

  ‘Yes, Mir§a Vashni.’

  Korhan went about tending to their horses, while Vashni wandered back inside. She’d neatly stored the measurements in her head. The first task was to ‘unlock’ the sword. To do so she returned to their room and laid the elvish blade on the bed. Then she leaned close to the weapon and began whispering quietly. Almost invisible to the naked eye, the engraving started to glow. Gradually the handle altered its angle subtly with the blade, and the blade altered its width and length, slowly reshaping itself. Eventually her whispers died down, but the blade continued the slow, subtle changes.

  Korhan returned in time, bearing a wooden tray with bread, butter, cheese and some fruit. Vashni was curled up at the head of the bed and she gestured for him to bring the tray over.

  ‘Good Ri§ine, once I am finished, you may sit on the floor and eat my leftovers.’

  Korhan sat on the floor and leaned his back against the foot of the bed. He’d seen ‘Harbinger’ lying on the bed and had mixed feelings about wielding such a weapon. On the one hand it looked like an amazing sword, the craftsmanship seemed to be without equal, but it also seemed unusual and alien compared to what he was used to. With its curved edge and curly engravings running along the length of the blade, it seemed almost feminine. Harbinger did not bear the hard, practical look of his great sword. Surely such a delicate object would be a liability. He sat listening to Vashni munching away, his thoughts and feelings a whirlpool. Despite her domination of him and her strange ways, he found himself becoming more and more attracted to her. He wondered if she’d subtly enchanted him with one of her whispers, but then she showed him no affection at all. She showed him little but disdain and disappointment.

  He was roused from his thoughts by the tray nudging the back of his head. ‘Here Ri§ine, you may finish.’

  He reached up and took the plate. She’d left him a little of everything. He knew he’d be hungry later, trying to sustain himself on such a light breakfast, but at the same time he was careful not to think about his desire for meat, as doing so would make him feel ill.

  After they had finished eating they left the room, Harbinger still configuring itself, following Vashni’s instructions. Saul and the rest of the party were already waiting for them in the courtyard, horses loaded with fresh supplies purchased from the innkeeper, and ready.

  ‘Good morning Mistress Elf, Korhan. I’ve secured some supplies and refilled our flasks at the inn, we’re ready to go.’

  Vashni cast her eyes accusingly around the group. ‘Good morning all. My Ri§ine received a stern warning for his transgressions last night. I would thank you all not to interfere with my plans for him again.’

  This brought a round of mumbles and muttering, but they all climbed into the saddle and started riding. Korhan fetched Vashni’s horse and watched her tie Harbinger loosely at the side of her steed.  Korhan took his place at the rear, riding a respectful distance from Vashni.

  As the riders left the courtyard and rode through the town towards the north gate they spotted a small crowd gathering in the town square. It appeared to be execution time. The Berger had only one candidate, an unknown individual. Gedric, for whatever reason appeared to be absent. When they drew level, Karras trotted up to Saul on his horse. ‘Good morning Saul Karza.’

  ‘Berger. How fares your daughter?’

  ‘She sleeps, yet we can tell she is recovering. I only wish I could find the means to thank you and the erm, young-‘

  ‘I see Gedric is not among the condemned. Has his family been to visit him?’

  ‘Aye, I have decided to spare Gedric Avanti’s judgement for now. His son refused to visit, though his wife came. I believe she is the one he let down the most. She had no words for him, she slapped him and spat in his face.’

  ‘Hmmm, I hate to say so, but maybe you are right. A good woman should not be shackled to one who has thrown his life away, always failing to provide for his family and forever making bad decisions in the name of stupidity or selfishness. Perhaps when Gedric recovers his senses, his ordeal will have shaped him for the better.’

  ‘Will you stay to watch the execution?’

  ‘No. I am not so voyeuristic as to enjoy watching men butchered, whatever their crime or the walk of life they have taken.’

  ‘You still sound critical Saul! You are too sentimental and not pragmatic. This man is a thief and a murderer. The people of Briem will expect justice to be served. I may spare Gedric, because his ordeal might be justice enough, and he has not had the benefit of a trial.’

  Saul sighed. ‘Farewell, Berger.’

  ‘Farewell Saul Karza.’

  As the riders filed past the Berger towards the north gate, the Berger held out a hand to stop Vashni, who had raised her hood, hiding her face and pointed ears. ‘Thank you Mistress Elf.’

  ‘Humph. Think nothing of it. But speak of my presence here to no one, lest you incur my wrath.’

  Saul snapped his reins. ‘Come, we ride for Duramer. It is the last village before Brunwelt.’

  Trotting across the square, they couldn’t help but notice the condemned being helped from the cage and laid on the chopping block. Turning their backs and riding for the gates, more than one warrior winced when they heard the thud of the falling axe and the cheer of the crowd. Approaching the north gate, they noticed a greater number of guards than there had been at the south – a stark reminder that this gate was a portal to the wilder, near lawless northern region of Torea.

  Clear of the city gates they were soon back in the forest, though not as green or densely wooded here, as it had been on the southern side of Briem.  After the encounter with the bandits everyone was on edge. The knowledge that they were riding ever closer to the dragon filled each of their hearts with a sense of impending doom, except Vashni who was amusing herself by mimicking bird whistles. Gnarly trees shaded the churned forest path. By the time they’d lost sight of Briem, half of the companions rode with one hand on their weapons.

  Chapter 8

  ~

  The Road to Duramer