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

by Garrett Robinson

  “Soldier,” said Kun in a cold tone. “The arrow.”

  Chausiku hesitated a moment more, but finally, he handed it over. And on the outside of the parchment scrawled in ink, Kun could see a few hastily written words:

  Chausiku. Give this to the lieutenant for the captain.

  Kun’s grip on the parchment tightened.

  “Do you see?” he said lightly. “It is even addressed to me.”

  He forced his fingers to loosen, seize the string, and untie it. The parchment unfurled in his hands, and he began to read silently.

  Honorable Captain Zhou,

  I, Sergeant Albern of the family Telfer, and Sergeant Mag, tender our resignations. Though she is not here to confirm this letter before it is sent, we feel qualified also to tender the resignation of Yue of the family Baolan. We regret the circumstances that necessitate we leave so abruptly. We regret, additionally and sincerely, the animosity between us at the parting.

  We never intended you or your forces any harm. We love Underrealm. We hope that one day, with enough service on our part, you will see fit to approve a petition of clemency for us.

  Speaking of service, we have spent the last day in pursuit of the enemy, and we have been successful. We have slain two sentries of the Shade army, and we can confirm that they are continuing their westward course towards the Greatrocks. We also have slain the weremage. You will find her corpse in the cave half a league to the northeast if you care to.

  Captain, we are ashamed eternally for every detriment we were to your intention. We hope the squadrons we have trained are of great aid to you in the war. If you see fit to do so, give our love and our apologies to Tou and our units.

  We hope to see you on the other side of the war, and we hope as well that you may think more kindly of us then.

  Regretfully,

  Albern of the family Telfer

  Mag, the Wanderer

  Kun read the letter. Then he read it again. Not once did he take his eyes from the parchment, but he curled the top and bottom ends of it, as though he was preparing to wrap it around the arrow again.

  The letter solved nothing, of course. Mag and I had known what we were doing. We were criminals under the King’s law, and Kun would punish us if he could. Slaying the weremage was good for the cause, but it did not undo what else we had done. Not really.

  But for the first time since we had left him, his smile returned to him. It was not as strong as it once had been. It might never be that strong again. But it was back.

  Tou saw it. “Sir?” he said.

  Kun handed him the letter. “Had I known of his penmanship, I would have retained him as a secretary instead of a sergeant. Remarkable to fit so much on a single sheet. Read this. Show no one else. Relay the sentiments or not, as you will. But burn the letter when you are done.”

  Tou looked confused, but he took the letter. He started to read, and almost at once, a look of fury began to build on his face. When he finished, he looked up at Kun.

  “We must go after them, Captain.”

  “No,” said Kun with a heavy sigh. “We must not. For one thing, I doubt we could catch them without … without a tracker of our own. For another, we simply do not have the supplies for it. We must find somewhere to procure more. Then we must proceed west to the Greatrocks with all possible speed, and find a way to send a message warning our comrades about the mountain passes.”

  “But Mag and Albern—”

  Kun forestalled him with a raised hand. “My order is given, Lieutenant. Besides, while killing the weremage is far from deserving of a pardon, mayhap it has earned them a respite. Mayhap fate meant it to. Let them have a brief time, at least, where they need not fear us at their backs.”

  His eyes fell upon the empty tent door again. “It will not last forever. Their time will come, one day. I promise.”

  And then to himself, he thought, I promise you, Zhen.

  Some time later, we strode into the camp where Yue and Dryleaf were waiting. They were both awake, and they straightened when they heard us coming. Yue stood, and then she helped Dryleaf to his feet as well. Oku came running up to the old man, who reached down to scratch him behind the ears.

  Mag gave me a look before we reached them. We had spoken already, and I knew she wanted me to say nothing of what I had learned. I gave her a quick, small nod to let her know I understood.

  “Rest easy,” Mag told them. “It is done.”

  “Truly?” said Dryleaf. He bowed his head. “After all this time.”

  “And all this long way,” I agreed. “But yes. It is over.”

  “Well, I am glad,” said Yue. “For the sake of avenging Lan Shui, if nothing else.”

  Mag went to Dryleaf and took his hand in hers, placing her other hand on his arm. “Come, my friend. Sit with me.”

  “Of course,” said Dryleaf. He hobbled beside her and sat on the blankets when she helped him down, and then she took her place by his side. I was pleased to see that his head seemed to be getting better. Yue had changed the bandages, and the new ones hardly showed any blood at all. I walked up beside Yue and put my arm around her waist. She did the same to me.

  “I am sorry,” said Mag. “I know I have said it before, but I say it again now. By my actions, I placed you in danger, and that is nothing a friend should do.”

  Dryleaf straightened where he sat. His hands released his walking stick, and he placed them on his knees instead. Suddenly he looked quite regal.

  “Mag,” he pronounced, “my darling girl. You really must deflate your head, at least a little bit.”

  Mag’s brows arched. “I … what?”

  “You are a remarkable person,” said Dryleaf. “You always have been. And because of it, others naturally look to you for guidance and leadership. That is a heavy burden. It gives you a mighty responsibility, and you must take that seriously—but you should not let it become too familiar. Sometimes it leads you to take choices away from others. You rob them of the power—and, yes, the pain—of making their own decisions.” He gestured vaguely with his hand towards me. “I think Albern was reminded today that he is your partner, not your sidekick. Yue and I are the same way. We are not your followers, and it is not solely within your power to determine our fate. Mag, it was my advice that you and Albern join Kun’s army. That is what led us all down this dark road. You are allowed to make mistakes and to feel the burden of them. But so am I. And you are not allowed to take that from me or from any of the rest of us.”

  I could see the chagrin in Mag’s eyes. She, like me, could hear the truth in his words. With Mag around, it was easy to feel yourself starting to revolve around her, the way the moons spun around the world.

  “You are wiser than I will ever be,” she said. “And I will heed your wisdom. In that case, let me rescind my apology.” She planted her hands on her hips like a scolding mother. “What were you thinking, you old fool, suggesting we join up with the Mystics? You sent us all headfirst and heedless into danger. I may never recover. Albern certainly will not.”

  Dryleaf’s solemn countenance broke into a wrinkle-ridden grin. “There. You understand, now.”

  Yue rolled her eyes. “Such pleasantries aside,” she said loudly, “what is your plan now? We cannot exactly return to Kun.”

  “We cannot,” I said, smiling. “Though we sent word to him that we hope may alleviate at least a bit of his ire towards us. But as for us, now we mean to find the children.”

  Mag’s expression dampened, though I did not know why. Yue only looked confused.

  “The children?” she asked.

  “Our friends from Northwood,” I said. “Four of them, and then there is the wizard, though he is grown. They were my companions on a long road. Last we knew, they were making for a stronghold in Feldemar.”

  “Fortunately, that kingdom is not far from us now,” said Dryleaf.

  “Yet they could have gone anywhere since,” said Mag. “We should listen for rumors as we go. If they have turned in another d
irection, we may hear of it. You remember how Gem was spreading legends of Loren. Mayhap they have spread far by now.”

  “Mayhap,” I said with a nod. It seemed plausible, but I was still confused by Mag’s strange behavior. I did not know where these words came from.

  “In any case,” said Yue gruffly, “if your road to this point has been any indication, I am certain something else will come up along the way. A village that needs saving from wurts, mayhap, or a farmhouse infested with imps.”

  “Why, that sounds like a pleasant respite after the trials we have endured,” said Dryleaf with a broad smile. “I would be grateful to lend my advice in such an endeavor.”

  “But not today,” said Mag. “Today, I would like to rest, and then to sleep for the first good night’s sleep I have had in a long time.”

  “A long time,” I agreed softly.

  And so we did. The day passed without incident, and then we bedded down for the night. I was too weary even to make life interesting for Yue, though of course, it would not be my last chance to do so. And the next day, we readied ourselves for another journey. Not a hunt this time, but a search for friends.

  Mag and I had one last conversation that is worth recounting now. As we were strapping our saddlebags to our horses, she glanced over at me.

  “We are in the after.”

  For a moment I did not know what she was saying. Then I recalled the desperate words she had spoken the last time we rested in Kun’s camp. “We are. How does it feel?”

  “Unfamiliar,” said Mag. “I never had a beginning in Shuiniu. Then it seemed I was in the middle for a very long time. And then, after Sten died, Kaita felt like the ending. But now that end has come and gone, and a new story has started. My first beginning. I hope we make it a good one.”

  “I am sure we shall,” I told her. “As long as we take care of each other. And of Dryleaf.” I chuckled. “Especially now that we do not have Nikau and Orla to help us. I will miss them more than most.”

  Mag blinked at me. “Who?”

  “The lovers. From Kun’s camp. You remember them.”

  Her lips parted, and I could see the lost look in her eyes.

  I frowned at her, exasperated. “Sky above, Mag, we ate with them often enough. Do not tell me you—”

  “I lost them,” she said, cutting me off as if she had not heard me speaking. “I lost them when Kaita …” Her voice trailed off, and she looked over her shoulder to make sure Yue and Dryleaf were not within earshot. “When I died. I lost them.”

  She strapped her last saddlebag in place and went to help Dryleaf.

  A chill crept down my spine.

  It was late in the day now, and the sun had set. Albern had lit a fire in the hearth sometime during the tale, but Sun could not remember him doing so. She had gone through another mug of ale, and though the taste was no less sour, it was beginning to turn her head fuzzy. At first, she thought she had misheard him.

  “What did she mean, she lost them?” said Sun.

  “That answer is a complicated one,” said Albern. “But to put it simply—whenever Mag was badly injured, or when she died, some part of her memory vanished, never to be recovered. The worse the harm, the more she lost.”

  Sun shook her head. “Why?”

  He gave her a sad smile. “That, too, is an answer I am not willing to give. At least not yet.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” said Sun. Then she had a sudden thought. “Is … is that why she forgot everything before the forest? Before Shuiniu?”

  Albern looked mildly surprised. “Yes. That was remarkably quick of you.”

  “She forgot everything?” Sun felt a sudden chill creeping down her back, just as Albern had described in the story. “What happened to her? It must have been bad to make her forget everything.”

  “It was bad,” said Albern softly. “But you shall learn. One day.”

  Sun took a deep breath. But she did not argue. She had learned her lesson by now, that Albern chose the order of his story carefully. And this one would not have been nearly as captivating if he had mixed it up in the telling.

  “I am sorry for my anger earlier,” she said. “You did not deserve that, and I was wrong. I thought you were lying to me. But everything you have told me so far … it was merely a beginning. The introduction to a larger tale.”

  Albern smiled, but it looked a little guarded. “You are not wrong.”

  Sun snorted. “I notice you do not say whether I am right. Very well. Can you give me your best guess of when we will reach the end of the story?”

  “End?” said Albern. “Who said the story has ended?”

  “I mean the end of Mag’s story, you twit,” said Sun. Then her eyes went wide. “Albern … has she died? I mean in truth, not the way she ‘died’ when Kaita killed her. Is she still—”

  A knock came at the front door. Sun jumped, but Albern’s mouth twisted.

  “There is my friend,” he said.

  “No, wait!” cried Sun. “Answer me. You must tell me before you open that door.”

  “It is too hard to answer,” said Albern.

  “Say yes or no!” cried Sun. “Why is that hard to answer?”

  “I suppose we shall have to see.”

  He went to the door and peered through a viewing hole before turning and winking at Sun. “I am happy to report it is not your family’s guards. This is the tavern’s owner—or former owner, I should say. And, of course, our third partner in this venture.”

  Third partner? thought Sun.

  Albern swung open the door. Two people entered. First was a large woman, with as much fat as muscle on her body. She had a thick jaw and a missing finger on her right hand. But the second woman caught all of Sun’s attention. She was much slimmer, and the hood of her green cloak was cast back to reveal Dorsean features, hair cut a few fingers above the shoulders in a practical style.

  Her skin was flawless, without a blemish or scar to be seen. She looked to be around twenty years old.

  Sun froze.

  Albern fixed her with a careful look. “Sun,” he said, indicating the larger woman, “this is Zhaojia, the former owner of the tavern. And this here is Chao, a brewmaster who has graciously agreed to partner with me in purchasing and running this place.”

  Chao. Sun’s wildly racing suspicions were confirmed in an instant. That was the false name Mag had used in the tales.

  This was Mag. The Wanderer. The Uncut Lady … or at least, as far as anyone knew.

  She could not speak. She could hardly breathe. This was not like meeting Albern in that tavern far away. This was like meeting an Elf, dangerous and extraordinary and entirely debilitating, for what could one do in the face of such incredible power?

  Her mind began to work again, but slowly. If Mag was going by the name Chao, that meant she was pretending to be someone else. And she and Albern also seemed to be pretending not to know each other very well. Sun did not know why, but of course, she would not give away the scheme.

  “I am very pleased to meet you, Chao,” she said. “And you as well, Zhaojia.”

  “Pleased, I am sure,” said Zhaojia with a nod. Then she turned to Albern. “You got my gift, I see.”

  Albern raised the mug of ale he had been in the middle of. “We did, and we thank you kindly for it. A fine concoction indeed.”

  Zhaojia scoffed. “You need not try to save my pride. I did not brew it, after all. It was what I could find that was fast and cheap, and that means it is not good, as a rule. We both know our mutual acquaintance here makes far better stuff than that swill. You have the rest of the money?”

  “Of course.” Albern reached to his belt and pulled out one of the thick purses he had received earlier. Then he paused and looked to Sun. “Sun, I mentioned before that you might find good use for your money by the end of the day. Would you like to join Chao and me in purchasing this tavern?”

  An hour ago, this might have rendered Sun insensible, or mayhap caused her to faint straight away.
But now, with Mag herself standing in the room, the absolute absurdity of the situation barely registered. “Why not?” she said. “I have no other plans.”

  “Wonderful,” said Albern. “We shall sort out the details later, and I shall recover your portion of the payment.”

  Zhaojia and Mag both looked at Albern like he was sun-touched. But Zhaojia took the purse, opened it, counted the contents, and closed it up again.

  “Very well,” she said gruffly. “May you find better fortune here than I did. But then again, with her crafting your drink ….” She tossed her head at Mag. “Well, I wish you good fortune, in any case. And I am off.”

  She strode out the door, and Albern went to close it behind her. The whole time, Sun could not stop staring at Mag. Once the door was closed and they were alone again, she finally tore her gaze away to look at Albern.

  “What in the dark below—”

  “Now, calm down,” said Albern.

  Mag, meanwhile, stood with her arms folded. At Sun’s outburst, she arched a brow. “And who exactly is this?” she asked Albern.

  “Chao,” said Albern, “this is Sun of the family Valgun.”

  “Valgun?” said Mag. “That is a name of Dulmish nobility. What are you doing purchasing a tavern halfway across the world?”

  Sun barely glanced at her, but kept her gaze locked on Albern, awaiting his answer. Albern gave Mag a weak smile.

  “Though both of your manners seem to have fled, let me assure each of you that the other is pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Albern, what is going on?” said Sun, very nearly in a shriek.

  Mag frowned at Albern. “I thought your name was Kanohari.”

  Sun waved a hand. “Of course, you are using your fake names. Kanohari, I need answers.”

  Albern’s expression grew troubled. “Sun—”

  Now Mag was looking stern. “A fake name? Why would you give me a fake name? If you are not Kanohari, then who are you?”

  That froze Sun in place. Albern shook his head slowly.