by Andrew Lynch
‘I find it’s best not to tempt fate, friend. Let the wolf be.’
It took a while before he stopped staring at the wolf, but he stayed on the path. Then his gaze went to my saddlebags where he knew the shard lay. I had tried not to remind him of its presence, for I knew it placed a constant pressure on him.
Almost at the caravan, I studied the gaudy vehicle. A sturdy wooden construction with splashes of yellow and red, and a purple tiled roof. The yellow seemed jovial enough, but the blood red put me on edge, reminding me of darker days. It had large wheels that looked newer than everything else, implying they were either well used and replaced often, or never used. Sure enough the ground around me now was churned and the tracks showed that similar vehicles to the one that stood before me now had made them. I couldn’t see why unwieldy caravans would be the ambushers' vehicle of choice, so I felt safer, but I still didn’t know why one would be left behind.
I didn’t bother asking Xly’dia if he knew about nomadic traditions. He hadn’t known much of anything about humans when I found him, and he still hadn’t told me why he had been outside in the middle of a blizzard eating a wolf he claimed he hadn’t killed himself. I suspected the shard I held was involved. I still woke some mornings to find his predatory eyes looking at the pouch in which it was stored.
A man seated by the fire in front of the caravan rose to his feet. ‘Well met, fellow traveller!’ he said.
‘Hail.’ The man wore a black and yellow tunic with loose beige trousers. Impractical for real travel, but it would be fine for someone in a caravan. He wore the hood from his carmine cloak pulled up, and kept nervously tugging it in front of his face. He kept his eyes cast to the ground.
‘A warm day for such a cloak, is it not?’ I asked in idle conversation.
‘Umm... I took a chill a few nights back, and don’t want to risk a repeat. Can I help you gentlefolk?’
‘Gentlefolk?’ He didn’t have the air of a seasoned traveller about him, but if he considered a two meter tall dragon slayer and an Aviq that towered even over me “gentlefolk” then perhaps I had been wrong. ‘You’ve seen an Aviq before? Until a few weeks ago, even I was only vaguely aware they existed.’
‘Oh. Uhh... no. But I treat all who come this way with the same respect.’
‘I do like... respect,’ Xly’dia added approvingly, as he squatted on the floor. The Aviq were not designed for chairs. I dismounted and sat on a scavenged log by the dying fire.
‘It seems you have my friend’s favour. I am Moxar.’
‘And I am Lu... uke.’
Just my luck, I thought to myself. Another unpronounceable name. I would have to avoid addressing the man directly if possible. ‘Well met, friend. We find ourselves in need of direction. We need the fastest way to the great Western city of Saphor.’
L'ook continued to look everywhere but at me. As he told me of forking paths inside the mountain ranges, he became twitchy.
I didn’t need my years of intuition to see that this man was lying to me. I placed a hand on Sharfaas casually, and the man gulped.
‘A series of forking paths in a mountain pass. Where are you trying to send me?’
L'ook coughed nervously and looked straight at the ground. ‘I’m sending you where you need to go.’ At least that had the ring of truth.
‘Remove your hood, and look me in the eyes. I’ve learned not to trust a man that can’t hold my gaze.’
L'ook fidgeted nervously for a few seconds, muttering to himself. It’s possible he wasn’t all there, mentally. Finally he reached his hands into his hood and pulled it back. Eyes still on the floor, his body practically shook with adrenaline. My hand tightened on Sharfaas.
He looked me in the eyes, and repeated that he was sending me where I needed to go. I held the gaze of his one good eye, a deep brown with a golden rim. His hair was a lighter brown and kept at a practical length - perhaps to not be gripped in a fight. His stubble and tanned skin both spoke of a life of travel. A handsome man by any account, but a face marred by an eyepatch covering a missing eye.
Maybe he wasn’t quite as soft as I had first taken him for. I reassessed him. A practical man, athletic beneath his ridiculous clothing.
Having stared me in the eyes his nerves vanished.
‘How did you lose the eye?’
‘Oh, this? No, just something I was trying.’ He removed the pirate’s eye patch to reveal another functional eye. He was an odd one, definitely, but I'd met all sorts on my travels.
‘So, Moxar, Xly’dia, what business do you have in Saphor, oasis of the desert?’
‘Evil stirs, and if I’ve discovered anything in my travels, it’s that evil is a human invention. So to find it, I go to the largest city in the area. Someone there is sure to be involved,’ I told him, not going into the details he didn’t need. He didn’t need to know of the Gods in peril, or of my love sending word that she was in the area.
‘I never... told you my name,’ Xly’dia said.
My grip tightened on the haft of Sharfaas. L'ook froze and began a long “umm” sound as he looked into the sky.
'—mmm, you just have the look of a Xly’dia. Was that right?’ L'ook laughed weakly. ‘My, what a lucky guess!’
‘Someone... who has never seen any of my... people... thinks I look like a... traditional Aviq name?’ Xly’dia asked, rising from his squatting position. He wasn’t ready to fight yet, I could tell - his feathers still lay flat.
L'ook closed his eyes tight for a second. ‘That’s right, I’ve never seen an Aviq before, but I’ve read books. Your markings indicate you come from the central Xly'hein flock. So your honourific was obvious, and, well... you have the look of the subject who was studied and interviewed for the book I read. So I called you by his name. Xly’dia.’
Xly’dia sat back down. ‘It’s... a common name.’
L'ook chuckled nervously and used his cloak to dab his forehead.
‘You know, L'ook, sweating can be a sign of nerves breaking. Do we make you nervous?’
‘Oh, no, no. Perhaps you were correct and this cloak is too much. Lovely weather we’re having.’
Something felt wrong about the situation. So far my host had plausible explanations for everything and might just be a bit odd, but I wanted to leave sooner rather than later just in case. I thanked him and stood. Xly’dia followed my lead, and L'ook stood to wave us off.
‘So, Saphor, great evil. Making any unplanned stops on the way by any chance?’ He continued to probe. ‘Meeting any unexpected guests or fighting any heroic battles, perhaps?’
That was it! He clearly knew something he wasn’t telling. I sprang into action, grabbing Sharfaas at the top of the haft with my right hand, and his neck with my left. Sharfaas stayed at my side, knowing I needed somewhere to escalate to. Evil never gives up what it knows right away.
‘Who are you?’ I said in a low voice, my hand easily encompassing his neck.
‘No... no one,’ he managed to gasp out.
‘No one seems very, very interested in my movements, actions, and friends.’
Xly’dia was making soft cawing noises. I'd learned that meant he was holding himself back from doing something destructive and would shortly need a way to release the adrenaline.
I was sure I could handle one spy on my own. Keeping my grip tight on L'ook’s throat, I said, ‘I’m okay here, go hunt. I'll see you further up the road. Finding that wolf will not take you long.’
At this, L'ook’s eyes went wider, which I hadn’t thought was possible. ‘No, please... pet.’ He was running out of air, so I flexed my hand, giving the impression of tightening my grip, but when I relaxed made sure he could breathe. ‘Do you take me for a fool? You want to know everything about me, and you have a wolf for a “pet”? Familiars are usually crows, but I’ve dealt with evil lords that have forced wolves to do their bidding.’
Xly’dia backed away, but slowly, his interest in the story that was unfolding growing.
L'ook gasped for ai
r but managed to get out, ‘Really. Just a pet. Saved her life in the mountains.’
I was furious at such a blatant lie, and lunged forwards, slamming him into the caravan behind. Xly’dia was instantly at my side, feathers ruffled, Avian beak open wide in a screech. I put the edge of Sharfaas to L'ook’s throat and shouted, ‘You saved a wolf and it became loyal to you? What kind of fantasy do you live in? You’re a spy and I shall end you!’ I pressed Sharfaas into his skin, drawing blood.
I was about to slit his throat and send Xly’dia for the wolf. I realised that the caravan was shaking. Not from the force of me slamming him into it, but from things moving around inside. I heard a sneeze, followed by a voice shouting, ‘You stupid Human!’.
‘Who’s inside, spy?’ At that, bodies spilled out the door, as if they had been leaning on the other side trying to listen, and the impact had sent them flying. I dropped the lying L'ook and readied myself for a fight. With all of them on the floor, this would be easy.
‘A group of spies? Then this will be a good day for the Gods!’ I raised Sharfaas, ready to end them.
As with all of my victims, I took a moment to remember the toll I would one day have to repay. In that split second where time slows before my first blow lands, I always realise the tragedy of what I’m about to do. They were scrambling to stand, defenceless. If they had been ready, they seemed a capable group. The dark skinned man was my height, typical of his people. The other man seemed formidable in his own way, lithe, a dancer’s body - landing a blow would have been hard. The Elf radiated beauty and death, her garb picking her out as a skilled magus - never something I relished fighting. At the bottom of the pile lay a small pasty looking man. I didn’t know what he was bringing to the otherwise capable group, but as his face turned my way, I realised that on second glance, despite being short and not conventionally handsome, even he had some redeeming features. He may not have been as well conditioned as the others, but I’ve been impressed by lesser men. A wildcard.
Then everything connected. L’ook’s nerves, trying to hide this group, the lone caravan. I strained at Sharfaas, pulling the blow short, biting into the dirt next to the wildcard’s head. The pile made a collective gulp and finished getting to their feet.
More proof for my realisation. they all had weapons but not a single one readied themselves. They wouldn’t fight me.
‘Hold back,’ I said to Xly’dia before he could savage them. ‘I know what this is. These aren’t spies.’
They all stood in collective silence. Apart from L'ook who was clutching at his throat, shocked at the blood he found there, gurgling, his breath heavy.
‘First, I want to make sure that everyone is here by choice? If not, I can take you away from here.’ They all looked confused but nodded, too afraid to talk. ‘Very well. Then I apologise, but perhaps next time, you should do this sort of thing away from the main road.’
Still none could bring themselves to speak. I addressed L'ook. ‘It was only a small cut. A shaving nick, nothing more. You’ll be able to enjoy your day with them still.’
L'ook was clearly still scared, but as he saw the flow of blood was already lessening, stood up.
‘A simple mistake, L'ook. Again, my apologies. You were just acting so suspiciously that my gut felt something was wrong. But now I understand what was really being concealed.’
‘Umm, no problem. My fault,’ L'ook replied, not wanting to admit the obvious.
‘These desires are natural, friends. What one man from Karagar, an Elf, three men from the Empire, and a wolf, want to get up to when everyone’s a willing participant is nothing to be ashamed of.’ Their faces screwed up in embarrassment, still not willing to confess. ‘I’ve travelled since the summer I turned fourteen. I know how lonely the road can get.’
I could tell they weren’t ready for others to know of their actions. I thanked them for the directions, and quickly made my excuses and left them to finish up.
On the road towards the mountains, Xly’dia and I had a new topic to discuss.
Chapter 14
‘He didn’t!’ Lucian shouted in frustration.
‘I’m telling you, I saw a spark of recognition, and—' Darrius protested.
‘He looked me straight in the eye and saw nothing,’ Lucian said, tired of the same argument over the past day of travelling.
‘Probably the eye patch threw him off,’ said Khleb.
‘Yes, but this is your first time. We’ve been following him for years!’ Darrius continued.
‘Then why didn’t he say anything?’
‘Remember the hints in the Lodge? Now this? He must know. He must be playing along,’ Darrius reasoned.
‘He doesn’t know.’ Lucian stopped himself from saying more. He quickly scanned the tops of the mountains, but yet again, no Company men were visibly spying on him. ‘Jess agrees with me, Gar is with you, and Khleb hardly noticed because he was flying on a cloud of sex. Let’s just drop it.’
‘Well, Jess hardly counts. She openly admits to not paying attention to human affairs,’ Darrius said.
‘Correct,’ said Jess.
‘Fair point, but Gar doesn’t count either, as he admits to just backing up his friend in an argument he doesn’t care about,’ Lucian said.
‘True,’ Gar agreed.
‘Darrius, I know you’d hoped for more.’ Lucian tried to break this to him gently, as he had learned that Darrius had a very idealistic view of certain things. Despite being the group’s professional “bard” - who had never played a song - Darrius fooled himself into believing some of the tales the spun by the Company. Even when he knew they weren’t entirely accurate. ‘But I think he really didn’t recognise any of us.’
‘He’s seen us, multiple times, at his own home!’
‘Maybe he just doesn’t have good face memory, you know?’ Khleb rallied to play devil’s advocate.
Lucian could see this argument circling around again, for the fifth time this day, and it wasn’t even midday yet.
‘Quiet!’ Lucian called. Thank Gods for potentially life threatening danger. The ogres could be hours away, but as the path ahead was narrowed by encroaching cliffs, and their voices were beginning to echo, they couldn’t take any chances.
After leaving the Great Road, taking Suzie’s shortcut to stay ahead of Moxar and skip the traps, the clearly marked road had become gradually more treacherous, little more than a rarely trodden path. The scenery had certainly taken a hit since the caravan site, swapping the luscious greens for bountiful greys. Lucian hadn’t really appreciated how many shades of grey there could be to gravel, stones, boulders, and mountains, but that didn’t make the shades of grey exciting.
As the path got narrower still, their horses were forced into single file. It wasn’t that Lucian really wanted to encounter the ogres, life threatening danger didn’t do much for him, but being overheard by bloodthirsty, giant monsters was a great reason to stop the argument.
The wolf clearly wasn’t happy with the lack of greenery, finding rock a poor hiding substitute. It was also getting progressively more unhappy with every footstep, and Lucian suspected it was a stroke of good luck that they couldn’t hear the wolf’s thoughts. It would probably do nothing but complain that it wasn’t built for walking on sharp pebbles, jagged rocks, and slippery gravel. It wanted to strike out in front and lead its pack, but in fact was lagging several minutes behind the team as it carefully picked every step to avoid cutting its paws.
When Gar had taken pity on her and tried to pick her up, she had nipped him. Lucian suspected it was, again, a stroke of good luck that they couldn’t understand a word of what Gar then said, as the stream of foreign language had been long, guttural, and, even though no one understood it, offensive.
As they continued along the narrow chasm, their horses none too happy with the confined space, the path opened onto a large circular area. All semblance of a path had gone, but the jagged caltrops underfoot continued their campaign of terror on unprotected hooves an
d paws.
Lucian reined his horse to a halt and surveyed the arena. His eyes couldn’t escape the large cave mouth, several Gars in height, to their left. Animal bones were piled up outside, and rotting carcasses were scattered around a fire pit in the centre. It would take precisely one second longer to reach the other side on horseback, than it would take an ogre to run the same distance. A rent in the cliff walls was the only ogre sized entrance or exit to the world at large. The only way out if they weren’t going to turn back. And they couldn’t do that, as this was the only way to the next Company assignment, and the bandit camp. Also, running from ogres was neither heroic, nor likely to look good to any of Lucian’s unseen watchers.
Lucian had never been a great horse whisperer, but even he knew that the beasts would refuse to go full pelt on this ground. They could leave them behind, but it was an assured death for the horses as there was little edible grass behind them, and ogres in front. Also, it would make things harder for the group.
He could hear vague rumblings coming from the cave, but saw no movement. He whispered the information down the line, and let everyone know that they were going to have to hug the wall of the arena, so there was less chance of being seen or heard. Or smelled. He just hoped Goddess Luck was with them. He didn’t pass that second part down the line, as Goddess Luck was a fleeting Goddess, and even mentioning her name would have the opposite effect it would have with any other God. Normally belief held a flicker of power, occasionally summoning the Gods’ attention even if only in a very theoretical, non noticeable way. Mentioning Goddess Luck, however, would cause her to see your plight, and general location, as a blind spot in her normally vast and overwhelming power.
Lucian set off, yanking his horse to the right, following the wall. Halfway round the arena, he noticed that the exit heralded the coming of soft ground. Ground the horses would gladly stretch their legs on and run like the prey animals they were. This good news was slightly tempered by a loud roar coming from the cave mouth. Lucian jumped, almost falling from the saddle, but luckily his horse was as unflappable as any Hero’s. Beating the fight against gravity, he could do little but squeeze his horse’s flanks, urging it forwards at a pace that was somewhere between glacial and continental drift.