Nekdukarr

by Chris A. Jackson

  "Excuse me, sir, I've come to―"

  "We have all the applicants we need, lassie," the officer interrupted. "All the slots were filled by highsun, and the next openings won't be 'til the dark of the moon. A shame it is, too, for you look like you might make a good guardsman."

  His manner was abrupt, but not unpleasant. It took Avari a moment to understand his misconception. Fengotherond's policy was that all citizens must be gainfully employed. Apparently, he thought her just another out-of-work sword looking for a job.

  "Excuse me again," she said, "but I'm not looking for a position in the guard. I have business with your captain."

  His eyebrows arched skeptically. "You have an appointment with Captain Thallon?"

  "I didn't know I needed one," she answered honestly. "If he's busy I can wait, or come back later."

  "The captain's always busy," he said as if it were a fact of life. "Your name and the nature of your business?"

  "Avari. I'm looking for a guide into the north country. I was told that your captain would be the best person to ask."

  "That he would be, Miss Avari, but he rarely has the time or inclination to act as an advisor for travelers."

  Avari’s frustration mounted; first she could not find a horse, now she could not seem to get the advice they needed. The busy captain’s probably having an late lunch, she thought.

  "Hold on there, lassie," the officer cut in as she started to turn away. "Captain Thallon may be a busy man, but he is also a considerate one." He handed Avari a carved wooden token.

  "This is your pass. It's good for the day. The captain is involved in a training exercise. You can wait under the archway over there. He'll be notified, but whether or not he'll meet with you is his decision. And don't disturb the trainees. It's hard enough to keep their minds on their work."

  Avari's spirits rose; at least she wasn’t being sent away without a chance of meeting the man. With a nod of thanks, she stepped between the now-raised halberds into the vast courtyard of the city's main garrison... and was nearly run down by a squad of double-timing recruits in close-order drill. She hopped out of the way and inspected the troops as they passed.

  Avari hoped, for the city's sake, that these were new recruits. The sweat streaming down their faces, and the drab brown tunics stuck to their damp bodies, testified that they were obviously not accustomed to such exertions. Behind them jogged a soldier in chain mail, as fresh as morning and showering them with an unrelenting stream of criticism.

  Avari grinned at the colorful remarks. Memories of her father's sometimes none-too-gentle instructions brought a warm flush to her face. Breaking a lifetime of bad habits in these poor, soft-fleshed, weak-kneed neophytes might well bring him to the same expressions of disgust that the drill instructor shouted.

  "You there!"

  The bellow fairly snapped her eardrum. Avari whirled to find a fiery scowl bristling with red whiskers approaching. The owner of these features walked with a quick, sure stride, a man confident and accustomed to being obeyed. He wore a suit of mail and heavy breastplate, a sword at his hip and a dagger at his belt, but he looked as if he would be just as dangerous unarmed.

  That was quick, Captain. She squared her shoulders to meet his assault.

  "This is a parade ground," he barked, stopping a half step in front of her, "not a street corner to be standin' on admirin' the scenery!"

  "I'm sorry, sir. I―"

  "Don't call me sir! I'm not a sir, I'm a sergeant. That means I work for a livin'. Now, let's see your pass, and you can tell me how you see fit to just laze about on my parade ground."

  "I'm sorry, si— sergeant," she said, retrieving her pass and handing it over. "I didn't mean to be in the way. I was told to wait over there for the captain. I thought you might be him."

  "Me? The captain?" He barked a laugh. "You couldn't pay me enough." He handed back the token. "The captain's a very busy man, Miss..."

  "Avari."

  "...Miss Avari, but he might be available for a short chat in a moment or two." He pointed to the archway. "Over there's where you'd be most apt to see him. I'll relay the message. And, in the future, Miss Avari, it would be prudent to walk around the parade ground, if you please. Excuse me—

  "Corporal Hensil! Straighten those ranks! Whadaya think this is, a ballroom dance?"

  Avari cringed at the bellow. The sergeant stalked off to vent his wrath on the poor corporal in charge of the errant troops. Avari ducked across the courtyard to the sanctuary of the archway, carefully evading the jogging squads.

  "Excuse me, Miss."

  Avari had waited no more than five minutes before the voice startled her. A boy no older than sixteen stood in a down-sized coat of mail and green surcoat.

  "Forgive me for alarming you, Miss," he apologized. "Captain Thallon is engaged in a training exercise, but has agreed to speak with you briefly. Follow me, please."

  Avari smiled at the youngster's rigid formality and followed him through the passages of the garrison. Her smile grew even wider as she picked up the smell of manure and the vibrations of galloping hooves. The hoof beats became deafening when her escort opened the thick double doors at the end of the hall.

  Beyond was a long, narrow court with a packed dirt floor. Four fully armored horses and riders rode by close enough for Avari to feel their breeze. The pounding hooves grabbed Avari's heartbeat and forced it into their rhythm. The four skidded to a halt, wheeled in unison and returned at full tilt, still perfectly abreast. Toe and heel signals were all that guided the powerful mounts, as each rider held a shield in one hand and a naked sword in the other. Avari almost screamed with delight; this was what she had been looking for all day.

  She followed the young man toward one end of the court, where eight horsemen attended the instructions of a ninth. This one was older, with braided gray locks down his back and a simple green tunic emblazoned with a winged horse. He wore no hat or helmet, and sat astride his mount so comfortably that they appeared to be one and the same beast.

  This, she surmised, must be the captain.

  Avari watched the man, assessing his temperament and mentally practicing her request. She barely noticed the horseman at the end of the line who urged his mount away from the others and trotted over. Dismounting, the man removed his helm, dropped his reins to the ground and ordered his mount to "Stand". The horse stood shock still as its master turned to her.

  One more lackey to go through, Avari sighed.

  She was determined to talk to the captain now that she had him in sight. The horseman bowed slightly before her, but before she could begin, he turned and spoke to the squire.

  "Thank you for retrieving our guest, Logan," he said, clapping the youth on the arm. "Now, back to your duties."

  Avari's eyes widened. Surely this can’t be... She gauged him to be about forty, with only flecks of grey at his temples. He was tall and fit, lithe rather than muscular, with an easy smile, and did not fit her expectation of a captain of the city guard.

  "Excuse me for having you fetched by one of my squires, Miss Avari, but as you can see, we are in the midst of training."

  "You're Captain Thallon?" she blurted before lowering her eyes with a blush and shaking his extended hand.

  "I certainly hope so, Miss, else the emperor's paymaster has been making a terrible mistake every fortnight!"

  "I meant no offense," Avari said. "I just assumed the older gentleman giving instruction was in charge. I thought captains were supposed to know everything already."

  "Oh, no! It's the sergeants who know everything. Besides, it's not us being trained here. Stablemaster Arryx is assisting us in training these mounts." He led Avari to his steed.

  "This is Gargantua," he said in introduction, patting the immense animal's lathered neck. "I call her Gar. She and the others in this group are near the completion of their training. But forgive my digressions; you obviously didn't come here to discuss training horses for battle. You seek information about travel in the north c
ountry?"

  "Oh... yes," Avari answered as she stroked the other side of the horse's neck; she had almost forgotten her errand. Her gaze was riveted the horse's sleek coat, tousled mane and intelligent eyes, while her hands expertly assessed its strength. This was one of the most beautiful animals she had ever seen.

  "But actually, I love nothing more in the world than training horses. I've spent most of the day looking for a horse just like this, and now I find you have a corner on the market." She looked excitedly at the Captain. "How much can I pay you for one of these fine animals?"

  Captain Thallon's eye-brows arched at Avari's interest in Gargantua, but he grew serious at her offer to purchase.

  "War-trained horses are not for sale. The emperor prefers that the secret of their skills and training remain his own."

  A shout from Stablemaster Arryx summoned Captain Thallon to his duties. "I am sorry," he said as he remounted Gargantua. "But I'm afraid I have no time at the moment to advise you on a proper guide for your travels."

  Avari stepped back from the horse, her fingertips lingering on the soft, damp coat. Her face fell in disappointment, although more because she could not get a horse than because Captain Thallon could not help her hire a guide.

  "However...." His word brought her eyes to his. "I have a court function that I must attend tomorrow night. There would be ample time there to discuss your trip to the north, and I would very much enjoy the company of a fellow equestrian."

  "You mean me?" Avari blurted, taken aback by his request.

  "I could ask Master Arryx, but he hates these functions more than I do." Captain Thallon smiled disarmingly. "Besides, it's formal, and Master Arryx looks awful in an evening gown."

  "But I―"

  "Tut tut," he forestalled her argument, replacing his helm on his head and drawing his sword. "I'll have a carriage to your door tomorrow at sunset. Where are you staying?"

  "The Kindly Ki-rin, but―"

  "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Remember, it's formal."

  Gargantua wheeled away to an unseen command before Avari regained her composure. Back in line, the Captain and his mount prepared for another run. All eight thundered past this time, their great hooves throwing clods of dirt high behind them. Avari backed from the training yard, her heart hammering. She knew not whether to be angry at the Captain's irrepressible manner, or encouraged that she would have another chance to talk to him... concerning a guide for their trip, of course.

  She wound her way back through the garrison to the courtyard while her thoughts tossed and turned within her head, confused, hopeful and scared all at once. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, she walked straight out into the parade ground, earning another scolding from the same irate sergeant.

  The sisters Darkmist sauntered behind the impatient Captain Kurekk, deliberately taking their time. They would not encourage their brother's ego by answering his summons promptly; besides, Calmarel enjoyed watching the rock troll squirm as he wrestled to control his agitation.

  "Sisters!" Iveron called out as the door to his chambers swung wide. "Come in. I am preparing to inspect my newest troops, so I must be brief."

  His mood was nauseatingly cheerful, much to Calmarel’s disappointment. Iveron held out his arms as two orcs fasten the buckles of his black breastplate. Another attended to his sword belt and empty scabbard.

  "Ah, there is something about being garbed for war that sets one's blood to racing, do you not agree, sisters?"

  An orc approached bearing his master's sword flat across his leveled palms, the naked ebony metal gleaming red in the subdued light of the braziers. Iveron tested the sword's edge on the orc's upraised palms, then wiped it clean on the creature's collar. Smiling with satisfaction, he sheathed the blade.

  Iveron whirled, scattering his startled servants, but he only strode to his desk to retrieve an encased scroll. He bowed low as he presented it to Lysethra, saying, "Bear this carefully, my sisters. Much information within it could be used against me."

  "Rest easy, Iveron," his elder sister assured him. Her gaze to Calmarel over their brother's bowed head was triumphant. "The mediator alone will lay her eyes on its contents."

  "Yes, I know," he agreed. Iveron waved forward the servant who carried his heavy steel gauntlets on a black satin pillow. "My only concern is that the plans could—through no fault of yours, of course—fall into the wrong hands."

  The gauntlet bearer knelt before Lord Darkmist. As Iveron reached out his hands, Calmarel's onyx spider golem darted across the floor and swarmed up the back of his leg. The servant tried to brush the small creature away before it could hide in the folds of the master's black cape, but the movement unbalanced the pillow. The black gauntlets hit the floor with a discordant clang-thud, drawing gasps from the other servants.

  Silence hung heavy for several breaths, Calmarel's barely-restrained snicker the only sound. The hapless creature cringed in fear, clutching the empty pillow with shaking hands. Iveron Darkmist looked to his sisters and inclined his head in apology.

  "Please excuse me for one moment, sisters. I have a matter to which I must attend."

  "By all means, brother. We underst—"

  Doom Giver flashed like black lightning, severing the tips of the orc's pointed ears while neatly cleaving the skull that separated them. The commander retrieved his gauntlets and jerked them onto his hands, ignoring the servants who scrambled to remove the corpse.

  "I am sorry for the interruption," the dark paladin apologized, "but there is no substitute for proper discipline." He strode toward the door, but turned back as if the unfinished conversation had just been recalled.

  "Oh, yes. I was mentioning my fears concerning my battle plans." Iveron’s bluish lips curved into a smile below his helm’s grim visor. "I took the precaution of placing wards on the scroll case. In the event that someone other than the mediator tries to open it, the plans and the perpetrator will both be destroyed." He whirled from the room with a billowing cape and a broad wave of his arm.

  "Fare well, my sisters! And thank you for your efforts on my behalf. I must be off now, so I bid you a hasty goodbye."

  Calmarel and Lysethra stared helplessly at their brother's retreating back. Neither had predicted this: their brother was growing sly.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Of course I'm not going!" Avari said as she eyed Lynthalsea's stance. She straightened a crook in the elf's arm and stepped back. "Keep your wrist straight, and don't shift your grip. Firm, but not strained. Too tight and you lose control; too loose and you lose your sword. Now, again through the strokes."

  "Why not?" Shay protested. "We need the information about the northlands. It’s an utter wilderness. The maps I saw of it were pretty sketchy; undoubtedly there are important details missing. Captain Thallon seems to be the person to talk to."

  Avari adjusted her pupil's arm again, and jumped out of the way as Lynthalsea swung the shortsword. The lesson was going well; the elf was strong and agile and was quickly overcoming the common novice mistakes. Avari, accustomed to long hours training stubborn horses, found the lesson stimulating, but Shay's constant yammering was wearing on her patience.

  "I don't see why one of you can't—"

  "We've been through that already, Avari." Shay rubbed his eyes and took another sip from his steaming mug of blackbrew. "We all have our own tasks to perform, and you are the best suited for this one. You might even enjoy it."

  "You've got to be kidding! Me, at a fancy court function, all wrapped up in lace and finery? Ha!" Avari rotated Lynthalsea's blade until the flat was horizontal. "There, that way it won't jam between ribs. Besides, I wouldn't know how to act."

  "Act like yerself, o'course," DoHeney said. His bare toes wiggled over the arm of a deeply upholstered chair while he sipped his own beverage, which, in contrast to Shay's, was cool and foamy. "One thing me gram always said was ta ne'r put on airs fer nobody, be they kings, queens er beggars. I gotta agree; ye should go. Besides, ye jist might have some fun.
"

  "Fun?" Avari snapped, her temper flaring. "I didn't get into this to have fun! I got into this to stop a murdering Nekdukarr from waging war, not go to some fancy dress-up ball with a smooth-talking guard captain!"

  "Aye, lass, as did the rest o' us," DoHeney pointed out. "But, as usual, yer not gettin' me point. Ye gotta remember that if ye let all the bad things that has happened to us get ye down, its jist gonna make it worse. Ye got to let yerself loosen up a bit, girl. Ye've been as tight as me crossbow string fer nigh-on a month. If ye don't relax a little soon yer bound to lose yer fightin' edge, and that'd put us all in a fix."

  Avari stared into space as she thought about the dwarf's words. You could not run a horse all day and expect it to stay fresh into the evening; she had not stopped pushing herself since they had first entered Zellohar those many weeks ago, and the few simple pleasures she had allowed herself had brought on waves of guilt. She thought only of pending disaster; if something happened to her friends while she was out enjoying an evening with Captain Thallon, she would never be able to live with it. But DoHeney's words struck home.

  "Do go, Avari," Lynthalsea said as she lowered the sword and relaxed her stance. "You deserve it, and none of us would begrudge you the enjoyment."

  Avari slumped; so much for this swordsmanship lesson. She felt her resolve slipping, but refused to let it go without a fight.

  "But—"

  "There is no reason for you not to go, Avari," Shay interrupted, "and every reason you should."

  "But, I—"

  "No more o' yer 'buts', lass! Ye'll be goin' ta this here ball if'n the three o' us have ta hog tie ye ta make ye do it!" DoHeney drained his tankard and bounced to his feet, his beard bristling in determination and his eyes glinting with mischief.

  Avari looked at her friends. She was tired of arguing.

  "Okay, I'll go! I'll go. But... it's just that..." She balked once again, crossing her arms as she shifted uncomfortably.