The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)

by Garrett Robinson

  Kun stopped before us, wearing his usual broad smile. “Well! Good morning to all of you. I must commend you on the presentation of your troops. Few squadrons among our forces show such discipline.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Tou and Mag at the same time. Mag stopped short, her mouth twisting, and gave Tou a deferential nod. He smiled slightly and went on. “Your recognition honors us. We await your order.”

  “Well, I have only one order for you today, in truth,” said Kun with a chuckle. “It is the day of the test! I doubt you have forgotten.”

  “No indeed, Captain,” said Tou quickly. “We are ready.”

  “As ready as you will ever be, I suppose,” said Kun. “I am sure we all hope that it is enough. Well.” His eyes darted to Li. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wandering gaze focus on the captain, her nimble body growing tense. “Who will be your champion?”

  Tou looked at Mag, who took a step forwards. “Captain, I have chosen Dibu to represent the best result of our training.”

  I was gratified to see a look of surprise—on Captain Kun’s face, and Dibu’s. Li’s cheeks flushed red. Meanwhile, Kun’s smile faltered for a moment. He looked past Mag to Dibu.

  “Well, soldier? Your sergeant has spoken. Step forwards.”

  Still, Dibu hesitated, looking at Li as if certain he had misheard. Then, at last, he walked towards us, presenting himself as if for inspection. I noticed his bronzed knuckles were white where they gripped his shield and blade.

  “Ser,” he said. “I am ready.”

  “I certainly hope so,” said Kun. He smiled at the Mystics to either side of him. “And so I suppose it falls to me to select my champion. I have given much thought to the matter.” Again his smile widened. “Let us hope I can surprise you at least as much as you have surprised me. For my champion in today’s bout, I select Tou. I expect you to do quite well, Lieutenant.”

  Beside me, Tou went rigid. My heart sank into my boots. The lieutenant had been sparring against Dibu nearly every day, sometimes for hours on end. He knew Dibu’s strengths and weaknesses. Dibu, meanwhile, had been too busy learning how to fight at all to study Tou specifically.

  But as I looked to my right, my gaze fell upon Mag. To my surprise, she was fighting to suppress a smile. I wondered what under the sky could be going through her mind.

  “And so we begin!” said Kun brightly. “Have you a favorite fighting ring, Dibu? I will let you choose, since I think most would agree you are the underdog.”

  “I … do not, Captain,” said Dibu slowly. He nodded at Tou. “The bout may take place wherever you wish, Lieutenant.”

  I expected to hear defeat in his voice, the apathy of knowing an unfavorable outcome before it arrives. But to my surprise, he sounded thoughtful, as though he was already trying to think his way through it. That lit a new spark of hope in me. It seemed Mag had been right about Dibu’s instincts, at least. I did not doubt that if Li had been chosen as our champion, she would merely be going through the motions now, convinced she could never win.

  We proceeded to the nearest ring. Tou and Dibu traded their swords for practice blades. They spent a few moments at either end of the space, swinging the blades to get the balance. Dibu kept his eyes on his weapon and his shield, inspecting them closely, as though he might find the secret to victory in the grain of the wood or the dull shine of the steel. But Tou’s gaze was locked on Dibu, and his jaw kept working.

  “Now, I expect you both to give your best effort,” said Kun loudly. “But of course, you are ordered not to cause each other any serious harm. You are both assets of the Mystics, after all, and therefore of the High King. Do not deprive her of a loyal sword arm, nor the soldier to wield it.”

  “Of course, Captain,” said Dibu. Tou echoed him as if it were an afterthought.

  “Well then,” said Kun. “Begin!”

  Tou and Dibu stalked close, both turning slightly to the right so that they ended up circling each other. Slowly the circle shrank until they were a pace apart.

  Dibu struck first, his sword arcing around in a powerful side swing. Tou deflected it with his shield. But Dibu seemed to expect it, bringing the blade back around and trying to hit his side. Tou’s blade was there to block it, and then he launched a counterattack.

  Dibu blocked three strokes in a row, and he did not give ground, but held Tou off where he stood. My heart leaped as he went on the offensive again. Tou was the first to fall back one step. Then he pressed Dibu, who took two steps back.

  Each blow clanged harder against shield or sword. Every swipe came faster. Gradually Tou stepped up his speed. But Dibu matched him blow for blow. His mouth was a grim, determined line.

  Then Dibu did something I had never seen from him before, something Mag had not taught him. He launched forwards with his shield, which crashed against Tou’s. Tou held, but then Dibu’s leg swept out, kicking Tou’s feet from under him.

  The Mystic fell to the ground. Our squadrons gave a great cheer.

  But Tou did not lose his head. He rolled away quickly, and Dibu brought his sword down on the ground where he had been. It put Dibu ever so slightly off balance, giving Tou just enough time to regain his feet. Now his brilliant red cloak and black hair were soaked with mud, and he was breathing heavily.

  I glanced at Kun, and I saw his smile turn icy.

  “Enough, Tou!” he barked. “This is a test, not training. End it!”

  Tou’s jaw clenched, and I felt my hopes plummet. He had treated this like a practice bout, gradually fighting harder to teach Dibu as much as possible. But he was a military man first and foremost. He would obey his captain’s order, and his captain had ordered him to win.

  Tou lunged to attack. I heard a gasp ripple along our squadrons. Few among them had seen him unleash all his skill, but they could see it now. Every swing of his sword was as fast as blinking. He struck his shield against Dibu’s with every other stroke, knocking it aside, trying to find an opening.

  Dibu was on the defensive now. Almost every blow forced him back. But whenever I feared he would step out of the ring, he sidestepped to keep himself inside. Every time, it gave him a new lane of retreat, more room to work.

  I realized what he was doing. He was trying to tire Tou out. He knew he could not win an even match. But if he could hold off Tou’s attacks long enough, he might conserve enough energy to balance the odds.

  Mag had been right. Not only was Dibu a natural fighter, but he was smarter than I had expected.

  Yet his wits did not seem to be enough. Twice he almost went down as Tou battered his shield. The third time, Tou brought the edge of his shield against Dibu’s, cracking it down the middle. The next swing knocked the shield clean off Dibu’s arm, and he winced with pain.

  Tou’s foot lashed out, catching Dibu in the gut. He stumbled back, dropping his sword a pace away. Even as he tripped, Tou caught him in the shoulder with the flat of his blade. Dibu’s padded armor held, but he cried out with pain as he spun and slammed face-first into the ground.

  Without thinking, I clutched Mag’s arm (which was like seizing an iron bar). But when I looked at her, she still wore the smile she had had before.

  “Wait,” she whispered.

  I looked back just in time to see Tou glance at us. There was an apology in his eyes, but there was also a resolution.

  He lifted a foot to step towards Dibu and demand the yield.

  Dibu’s hand flashed out, seizing his broken shield where it had fallen. He flung it across the mud, and it cracked into Tou’s shin. The Mystic slipped on the slush and went crashing into the ground. Dibu sprang, and when he came up, his sword was in his hand.

  In an instant, he was standing with one foot on Tou’s sword wrist, the tip of the blade at his throat.

  Everything went completely silent. I believe I was even holding my breath. Dibu, on the other hand, was panting heavily, and his close-cropped hair was soaking with sweat and mud.

  “Do you yield?” said Dibu, between ga
sps.

  Tou looked up at him, brows raised in surprise, clearly impressed.

  “I yield.”

  Our squadrons erupted in cheers and yells. They flooded into the ring, surrounding Dibu and pounding him on the back, ignoring the winces they drew through his embarrassed smile. I half thought they were going to lift him and carry him out of the ring on their shoulders.

  “Troops!” barked Mag suddenly. “Attention!”

  Everything fell silent again as our squadrons turned, hands slapping to their sides.

  All eyes went to Kun, who still stood on the side of the ring. His eternal smile had returned. But I saw ice in his eyes as he looked down at Tou, who still lay on the ground. A long moment passed.

  “Clearly, I should have chosen another champion,” he said at last. “But, well. What can one do in the face of such disappointment?” Then he turned to Mag and me. “Congratulations. The terms of our agreement have been satisfied, and you are now militia serving under the Mystic order. And what good fortune for all of us, for we march to war tomorrow.”

  He gave Tou one last look. “There will be a council in my tent at sundown. I expect to see you there, and not covered in mud.”

  Kun turned on his heel and strode off, his two Mystic guards at his side.

  We waited a respectful length of time—mayhap not until he was out of earshot, but certainly until he was out of sight. Then I turned to Mag and arched an eyebrow. She smiled, and together we turned back to our squadrons.

  “As you were,” I said.

  The cheers resumed. Now they did lift Dibu by the legs, hauling him into the air and carrying him off. Dibu let out halfhearted cries of protest. He turned back as they bore him away, looking at Tou, who had not yet risen. It seemed Dibu wanted to help his opponent to his feet, for honor’s sake, but the rest of the squadron would not have it.

  Well. Dibu deserved his celebration. And so I walked to Tou and reached down. Tou sighed, took my wrist, and let me haul him to his feet. He did his best to dust himself off, but with the heavy mud and slushy snow clinging to him, I am afraid it did not do much good.

  “It shall be a while before I recover from that,” he said.

  “He barely touched you,” said Mag.

  “It was not my body that suffered injury, but my pride.” He stopped wiping the mud off and gave us both a stern look. “It is important to me that you both know: I did not let him win. That was a clever ploy on his part.”

  “Trust me, I am aware,” I said. “I saw the look on your face when you went for him. And neither of us holds your effort against you. You were following your captain’s orders.”

  “We are only happy Dibu prevailed,” said Mag. But she could not entirely hide another smile. “And if we are being honest with each other, I think you might be somewhat happy about it, too.”

  Tou’s cheeks flamed, and he cleared his throat as he turned away. “It will certainly be good to have the two of you around for the coming fight,” he said, absently running a hand through his goatee, which streaked it with mud.

  “Hm,” said Mag.

  “In any case, thank you,” I said, and held out my hand. Tou took my wrist, and we shook firmly. “You have been of immense help during the training, and our squadrons have reaped the benefits. Though you lost the match, you also shared in the victory.”

  Tou shook his head slowly. “I do not know what madness is upon you that makes you want to be part of this war so badly,” he said. “But the High King’s forces need all the help we can get, and yours more than most. I only ask that you do not make me regret it.”

  “I promise,” said Mag. “You will be glad we are here when it comes time to fight.”

  After Dibu’s trial, we had little time to celebrate. Kun had ordered a march for the next morning, and that meant the rest of our day would be spent in furious preparation. Before setting our squadrons to their tasks, Mag and I conferred with Dryleaf.

  “Where do you think we are going?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” said Mag. “I am sure Kun would not tell us even if we asked.”

  “Yet he may have told others,” said Dryleaf. “You two must see to your preparations, but I will be of little use in that. Let me instead see what I may learn. I should tell the Guild of Lovers, in any case—I am certain they will want to know, and doing them a small favor may repay us all in the end.”

  “An excellent idea,” said Mag, nodding. “Let us know if you learn anything.”

  Dryleaf gave her a smile and set off towards Taitou, Oku trotting at his heels. Mag and I went to our squadrons and began prodding them into action to pack their things.

  Now, even as we had been preparing for Kun’s test, the rider had been making her way across the land in search of us.

  Her road had grown much more difficult since the civil war broke out, but she was smart enough to keep from being seen. She avoided cities and the major roads, as we had done. Some time ago, she had visited Taitou and learned that we had been there, but she left before we returned. Now she guessed we were lurking somewhere in the nearby wilderness. That was where she had been searching for the past week. But she did not have my skill at finding paths through the wild, and so the going had been slower. She slept in ditches and under trees, muttering complaints about the fact that Mag and I would not sit still and let her catch us.

  But because she was being so careful, and quite by accident, she discovered the Shades.

  She was leagues north of Taitou, creeping through a wood called the Brackenbough (which, I am sure, would have amused Dryleaf greatly). Day was fading to night. Sheer luck kept the Shades from seeing her. She was only a few spans from the edge of their encampment deep in the woods, but she did not know it.

  Suddenly a thought struck her. We might have set up a camp and built a fire, and mayhap she could see the smoke from far off if she climbed a tree. She tied off her horse and found the tallest tree she could. Grunting and cursing, she hauled herself up hand over hand until she had cleared the tree line surrounding her perch. And just as she had hoped, she saw the smoke of a campfire.

  But then she saw many more columns of smoke. Not just one campfire. Nearly a dozen.

  The rider frowned. She knew the fires were not from Mag and me. But now she was curious why so many people should be camped deep in the Brackenbough.

  She made her way back down to the ground, but she did not mount her horse again. Instead, she set off into the woods on foot. From her belt she drew her short sword and her club, one in each hand. Then she moved forwards with every bit of stealth she could summon.

  But she never reached the camp. Two figures appeared in the forest ahead, forcing her to stop.

  The rider drew up behind a tree. She stuck out one eye, taking a few moments to study the figures before her. They stood a span apart so that they could just see each other through the woods.

  Sentries. But what were they guarding?

  Then the rider noticed their outfits of grey, with blue cloaks pulled tight about them.

  She knew what that meant. She had seen Shades before. From the campfires, it seemed to be a decently sized force. Mayhap two hundreds. That was more than the rider had ever seen in one place.

  “Dark below,” she grumbled.

  She slid behind the tree again and then snuck away south, quiet as a rather large mouse. Soon she had rejoined her horse and untied it from the tree branch.

  Now she had a choice to make. This discovery troubled her, and she could not simply ignore it. Such a force of Shades moving through the kingdom could threaten all of Dorsea, and that was more important than Mag and me.

  Taitou was to the south, and she knew that town held a small garrison of Mystics. If anyone could deal with this situation, the redcloaks could.

  The rider blew out a loud, exasperated sigh, sending it misting up into the wintry air. Then she climbed into the saddle.

  “Come on, boy,” she said, patting her horse’s neck. “We make for Taitou. One more delay
I will take out on the wanderers’ hides, whenever we find them.”

  Dryleaf went about his business in Taitou, while Mag and I set to ours in the encampment. We had drilled our squadrons on packing their kit, but they still needed our attention and an occasional sharp word. By the time the sun was lowering towards the horizon, I was nearly worn out. Dryleaf found Mag and me just as we had reunited and started supper.

  “I hope your day was fruitful,” he said.

  “The only fruit borne today was a thistle,” I said, “and I feel its needles all up and down my back. Why is it I can travel hundreds of leagues with the two of you and feel fine, but after spending one day helping others prepare for a journey, I feel ready to quit?”

  Dryleaf chuckled. “Ask any parent if they were ever as tired before children as they were after.”

  Mag smirked. “We are their officers, not their parents, and they will have a rude awakening if they forget it. But what of you? What were you able to learn?”

  The old man shook his head with a smile. “I should have predicted this, but the Guild of Lovers already knew about the march. They have a wagon ready to follow the army with some half-dozen lovers. Two of my friends, Orla and Nikau, will be coming along. In any case, the lovers must have heard of it from some of the Mystics who are closest in Kun’s council—who I would have difficulty befriending, of course. It appears the march was a complete surprise to most of the redcloaks. Even Tou had not known of it.”

  I met Mag’s gaze. “That means Kun was afraid of word getting out,” I said.

  “And that likely means he is going after the Shades,” said Mag, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “This is something, at least. You could learn nothing else?”

  “Only that we are marching north,” said Dryleaf. “No one knows exactly where.”

  “North,” I mused. “I know of nothing important that way. Other than the town where you grew up, Mag.”