by A. C. Cobble
The desert warrior had merely stated, “West.”
Under his breath, he’d also muttered something about Raim. Ben recalled that his friend Raim was going to do business with the strangers. Ben asked about it, but Thyr merely shook his head and changed the subject.
As he watched Thyr’s back disappear into the harsh landscape, Ben pondered whether the strangers and the Purple were one in the same. If so, what kind of business were the Dirhadji doing with them that they would be so closed-lipped about?
“He turned out to be a good man,” remarked Amelie to Ben.
Ben frowned. Thyr had helped them but not for their sakes. The Dirhadji had his own motivations. They weren’t the only ones keeping secrets.
O’ecca snorted. She’d never forgiven the man for his initial drunken attack.
Milo caught up to them and they all turned his way. It was rare that the shy apprentice did not hide at the back of the party.
“Do you see his hammer?” he whispered, cutting his gaze toward Gunther.
Ben glanced at Gunther then back at Milo. Of course he’d seen the hammer. It was the size of a small person.
The giant mage had the huge black-iron weapon resting on his shoulder. Flickers of red and orange curled across it like slow-moving tongues of flame.
“There’s more light on it today,” murmured O’ecca. “I do not understand magic. What does it mean?”
Amelie shrugged. “I am no expert on magical devices.”
“It’s gathering energy,” claimed Milo.
Ben looked at the timid young man. “How do you know?”
Milo shook his loose mop of curls. “I can feel it. A growing sense of… potential. It’s not coming from him, though. He’s somehow tapped another source of energy, something stronger than anything I’ve felt before.”
“The void between the worlds?” wondered Amelie. “That is what the Purple were after.”
Milo adjusted his pack and kept his gaze fixed on Gunther. “I don’t know. Keep an eye on him, and let me know what you sense. Maybe you’re right, and there is a reason he knows so much about the Purple’s weapon.”
The former apprentice fell back to his customary position at the tail of their group.
Amelie met Ben’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged.
O’ecca adjusted the turban she’d wrapped around her head and complained, “Frisay did not have the comforts of home, but in a short time, I’d gotten used to being out of this sand and heat.”
“It hasn’t been easy, has it?” agreed Ben.
“This better be worth it,” grumbled the lady. “If not, I will hold you responsible. There is much I could be doing at home to help my father.”
Ben sighed and kept walking.
* * *
That evening, they erected a handful of tarps to create a rough wind-break. They sat around their sparse campsite, watching the sun fall below the horizon.
There was no wood for fire so no hot meal. Nothing to prepare except to fiddle with the tarps and spread out their bed rolls. They’d restocked in Frisay, and had an ample supply of travel rations. Ben chewed morosely at a tough piece of ostrich jerky. An ample supply of the stuff may not be a good thing, he thought.
He jumped when Gunther settled down next to him and Amelie.
“Mistress Albie told me she’d seen you before in the north.”
Ben nodded slowly, swallowing a half-chewed wad of meat.
“Tell me what happened there,” instructed the mage.
Ben glanced at Amelie before answering. “We passed through Free State on the way to the Wilds. We were up there looking for a rift, which the Purple created to meter the flow of demons into our world. We thought we could shut it off and help protect Northport.”
“I’m familiar with the Rift,” responded Gunther. “Tell me about the people in Free State. What happened to them?”
“They died,” Ben stated simply.
“I was worried about that,” rumbled Gunther. “The Wilds is no place for a colony. By the time I heard they’d left for there, it was too late. The younger generations are overly eager sometimes. They do not think things through. There is no point running away from the lords if you head directly into peril. I wish I could have stopped them.”
“Stop them?” asked Ben.
The mage nodded.
“Would they have listened to you?” queried Amelie.
“I would have made them listen,” declared Gunther softly. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
“I thought the point of Free State was that they made their own decisions,” remarked Ben.
A bitter smirk crawled across Gunther’s face. “That is true. Maybe you are right. Maybe they wouldn’t have listened, even to me.”
“Did they know who you are?” asked Amelie.
Gunther shook his head in the negative.
“In my experience,” added Ben, “the people of Free State are highly independent. If anyone told them what to do, they’d be more likely to do the opposite.”
“Your experience with Free State?” questioned Gunther. “Mistress Albie told me you spent one night there.”
“We stopped in a Free State outside of the City too,” stated Ben. “It was also just one night, but we spent most of the time speaking to a man named Myland. He seemed to the be the leader, though, he wouldn’t let anyone call him that. He explained the philosophy of Free State to us.”
“Myland,” murmured Gunther. “I haven’t seen him for years, not since he went off to start his colony. That fool loved the idea of building it in the shadow of the City. That’s what I’m talking about. Directly into peril.”
“You know Myland?” asked Amelie.
Gunther chuckled. “I’m the one who gave him that name. You don’t think his parents did that, did you?”
Ben sat back, thinking.
“How is he doing?” wondered Gunther.
Amelie shrugged. “He seemed pretty content to me. The people there respected and listened to him, despite his assurances that they did not. The community appeared to be thriving, though, it was pretty rough. Logs, thatch, and mud mortar. They’re far enough into the wilderness that I don’t think they’ll have problems with the Sanctuary. They had plenty to eat, but if we see Myland again, I’d rather drink lantern oil than the foul spirits he’s distilling.”
A broad grin split Gunther’s face. “That’s the Myland I know.”
“You founded Free State, didn’t you?” guessed Ben.
Gunther winked. “I founded a Free State, the first one. Each of the colonies you found were formed by their members. I have very little to do with establishing new colonies these days. When it started, I had no desire to continue living within the power structure that the leaders of this world have thrown across us. Everywhere I went, I had to hide who I was for fear that the locals would try to conscript me into whatever petty cause they had. I didn’t want to fight their pointless wars.”
Amelie gestured to Gunther’s hammer. “Certainly, they couldn’t force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
Gunther picked up the massive weapon and cradled it in his lap. “No one, not even the Veil, has the strength to force me to do something. A cruel enough person can always find leverage, though. They could damage my property, harm the ones I love. They could harm ones I don’t know but am too good of a person to let suffer. There is a lot someone can do to influence you if they are willing to go far enough. You can ask your friend the assassin about that. Sometimes, it would take years, but always, someone would decide to manipulate me. Usually, they didn’t understand who I am. They saw me merely as a very large man with a mage-wrought hammer. I was able to hide what I’m really capable of, and that just made it worse.”
Ben ignored the jibe at Rhys. “You left to get away from that?”
The huge mage nodded. “I left. I looked for the most remote place I could find, and I lived there. I lived there for years by myself. It was te
rrible. Almost as bad as being under some lord’s boot. People are not meant to be ruled and treated like peasants, but they aren’t meant to be alone, either. I returned to the edges of civilization and built a small village. I traded with those near me. Over time, more and more of them came to join me. After enough years, they realized I wasn’t aging. They suddenly wanted something from me too, more than I was willing to give. So again, I left.”
He turned the hammer in his hands, his fingers drifting over the swirling patterns of yellow, red, and orange.
“That time, I didn’t go into isolation, but I didn’t stray too close to the seats of power either. I found another area on the fringe, and I started another community. Every decade or so, I did the same. These days, there are enough communities that when it’s time, I return to places I’ve been. Only a few members of the communities know the truth about me. Mistress Albie and Myland, those like them who I can trust. To most, I’m merely the biggest, meanest, strongest, and fastest worker. That’s more than enough to gain respect. When necessary, I protect the communities, but they’re so spread out now it’s become difficult. I regret I couldn’t be there to help the people in the Wilds.”
“Why do you do it?” wondered Amelie.
“To give people a place to go. There are so many who are oppressed but have nowhere to turn. This is my solution.”
“You have the strength to build a real city, a place with rules that make it fair to everyone. You could lead it, and set the example for your people,” challenged Ben. “You could turn it into a new land, one where people are treated fairly, and no one is artificially elevated over the others.”
Gunther shook his head. “No, if I tried that, I am certain I would end up just like the others. King Argren in Whitehall, Lord Jason in Irrefort, Lady Coatney in the Sanctuary.”
“Lady Coatney?” queried Ben.
Gunther nodded. “The Veil.”
“I haven’t known you long,” stated Amelie, “but I think I already know you well enough to understand you wouldn’t seek power like them. You are a good man. You could do so much for the world. If you were in Alcott standing against the demons, standing against the wars of man, think how many people you could save!”
Gunther set his hammer on the ground beside him. “None of those leaders started out thinking they would do evil. They all thought they would do good for their people. Maybe even for Alcott and the world. That’s not the way it worked out, though, is it?”
Ben frowned.
“Good intentions do not always lead to good actions,” continued the mage. “The more powerful someone is, the easier it is to slide down the slippery slope into darkness. Compromises to advance your vision seem worth it, and only too late does one realize how far they’ve fallen. Remember that as you continue your quest. Remember that both Argren and Jason meant to do good when they started, and I’d gamble they still believe they are on the side of right. What difference does it make for most people, though? Countless lives will be crushed when those two sides come together.”
“We know people will die!” exclaimed Ben. “That’s what we’re saying.”
Gunther held up a hand to stall Ben. “Whether it is those rulers or me, it doesn’t matter. Whoever is involved in the conflict, it doesn’t matter. The best intentions do not justify war. Nothing does. Those lords would march to battle against me, just like they will against each other.”
“Someone has to stand up for what is right,” argued Amelie.
“Who decides what is right?” retorted Gunther. “As I said earlier, Argren, Jason, even Coatney all believed at one point they were there to do good. Are we so confident that we can say with absolute certainty, they are wrong?”
Ben and Amelie frowned at the mage, at a loss for words.
“Look at it this way,” added the man. “Are the Alliance and Coalition any different? Does it matter to the common man who wins that battle? They say they are different. They have slightly different laws they impose on their populations, though, most people would have difficulty telling you which ones. At the end of the day, to the majority of the population, they are the same. The words even mean the same thing! A coalition is an alliance.”
Ben blinked, his mind swirling.
“It’s just two sides of the same coin,” rumbled Gunther. “You can flip the coin to either side and it looks different to someone who isn’t paying attention. Front or back, coalition or alliance, ass or elephant, it’s the same damn coin!”
The huge mage stood, dragging his hammer up with him.
“No, I don’t trust myself to be a leader. I’ve been alive too long. I’ve seen people make too many errors. I can’t believe I’m better than all of the leaders who’ve come before. It’s the conceit of man to think that he is wiser than all other men. That’s why I’ve continued to promote Free State. A man does not need someone else to give him permission to live. No one should stand in judgement of another man’s choices, to tell him what is right and wrong.”
The mage retreated to the other side of their camp and busied himself by shaking out his bed roll. While he’d spoken, the sun had fallen below the horizon, and the warm desert air was rapidly cooling.
Rhys settled down beside them, taking Gunther’s place. He passed a wine skin to Amelie who drank deeply, a pensive look etched on her face.
“He’s right, you know,” stated Rhys. “Too much power inevitably leads to darkness. I’ve seen it more times than I care to recall.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What do you suggest then?”
Rhys drew his longsword and placed it on his knees, just like Gunther had held his hammer.
“Draw your sword, Ben,” requested the rogue.
Eyebrows knit in confusion, Ben drew his weapon and placed it on his knees.
Rhys slid a finger down the length of his blade. Silvery runes sparkled beneath his touch. A wisp of silver smoke drifted off the blade, barely visible in the low light of the moon.
“In the past, when I disagreed with someone, I killed them,” stated Rhys bluntly. “I used either this sword or my long knives. I considered it a simple, even elegant solution. Because of that, I got my way most of the time. I did what I wanted, and it was pretty rare someone was able to oppose me.”
Ben and Amelie watched their friend silently.
“Over the years, I got even better at it,” continued the rogue. “Killing people grew easy, and I loved the power it gave me. I found myself finding reasons to eliminate someone. For the most part, I think they actually were bad people. Gunther was right, though. Who am I to judge? How could I call someone else bad when I was an assassin? I have no moral right and no ground to stand on. I didn’t know how to stop, though. When you have a sword, it’s easy to use. I joined the Sanctuary, thinking I could make sense of things, thinking that in her years, the Veil had improved. It seemed the Sanctuary was doing good in the world again. I found out, though, the Veil had just gotten better at keeping secrets. She was up to the same machinations as her predecessors.”
“You’re trying,” said Amelie. “That counts for something.”
Rhys shrugged. “I’m not sure it does.”
He stared down at this sword, fingers following the etchings in the blade.
“Something changed when I met you two. You don’t fight your battles because of what you think you will gain, or because they are easy, or because you’re certain you can win. You fight because you believe it’s necessary. Whether you will win or lose is a secondary concern, and I’ve grown to respect that.”
Amelie passed the wine skin to Ben and he took a sip.
“Back in Indo, Ben,” continued Rhys, “you wanted to stay and fight the Red Lord, to help protect the people there. We talked you out of it, but should we have? Maybe we would have failed. Maybe we would have been successful. I don’t know. I do know that had we tried, it would have been the honorable thing. You asked what I suggest you do, and my answer is that you don’t give up. You continue to fight the battles y
ou think are necessary.”
Rhys pointed to Ben’s sword.
“You no longer have a mage-wrought blade. You can’t call the wind at will. That wasn’t your strength, though. Your strength is your conviction. You don’t need a magical sword or the ability to manipulate energy with your mind. The true power you possess, Ben, isn’t in your arm. It’s in your heart. Do not seek power. Seek to do what is right.”
The rogue stood and held out a hand for his wine skin.
Ben passed it back quietly and watched his friend walk away from camp into the dark night. Corinne stood and followed him. Towaal leaned against her pack, eyes open, staring at the stars above them. Milo appeared to be asleep.
Across camp, Ben saw Gunther lying on his side, the flickering light from his hammer subtly illuminating his face. His eyes were open, watching them.
* * *
The next morning, the first rays of sunlight beamed down on them, heating the dry air and burning the moisture from the parched land.
Ben stood and stretched, glancing around the blasted landscape. They were away from the sand sea and hadn’t ventured into the deep desert, but the terrain wasn’t any more forgiving than what they’d seen on the way to Frisay. With cracked rocks, red sand, and only a few scraggly trees poking up in the distance, it was a harsh land they would travel.
The mage Gunther followed Ben’s gaze. “We should be there in a week.”
Ben looked at the man, their guide, and wondered whether he would help them or not when it came time to decide. He thought about the conversations the night before and decided Amelie was right. Rhys was right. They had to fight the battle because it was necessary. They couldn’t be one more sword in the army if they wanted to permanently stop the demons. Even if no one else saw it, Ben knew the hordes of life-draining creatures were the biggest threat facing the world. He wouldn’t stand by idly while they ravaged unchecked.
“You’re looking fresh and energized,” remarked Gunther.
Ben grunted. “As fresh as I can be after spending the night rolling from one rock to the other. Will it get any better as we go west?”