by Blink, Bob
When Kaler returned to the boat, he and Rigo carried their goods to the wagon Kaler had hired to carry them to the inn he had selected. Had it just been the two men, they would have walked, but Kaler hadn’t thought that Daria could make it that far. She did better than he expected, walking almost normally with the support provided by the walking stick, making it to the carriage without drawing attention to herself. Standing almost upright for the first time, Kaler could see that she was a little taller than he’d thought, the top of her head coming up to the bottom of his nose. Once Kaler sat inside next to her, however, he could see the sheen of sweat that dotted her brow. The short walk had obviously been more taxing than she’d let on.
Two days later they left the village behind having successfully completed all the transactions. They had a small wagon which Rigo drove, pulled by two horses that could also be used for riding if they wished. The saddles and associated gear rode in the back of the wagon. Daria rode next to him, or lay in the back on a straw padded mat if the road became too rough and caused her discomfort. Kaler rode along side, often scouting a bit ahead, fully armed now having purchased an adequate two-handed sword and carrying scabbard to strap across his back.
Rigo hadn’t had to gamble for additional coin. They had done better than expected with the sale of the diamonds. Daria had told them to keep all the gold, of which a substantial amount still remained after all of their purchases. She claimed she owed them that much at the very least. Now they looked forward to a month of travel to reach the monastery where Kaler’s brother would hopefully be found. A week before that, they should reach the area where Daria claimed she would be likely to find a band of Wanderers.
Because of the wagon they were restricted to following roads as they traveled. They had elected to parallel the river south because the road was known to be good and because it would involve less back-tracking when they reached the southern border. The inland road followed another river, considerably more west than they would need to go to find the monastery.
They hadn’t seen another traveler in two days when they were suddenly attacked. Rigo and Daria rode side-by-side on the seat of the wagon while Kaler rode just off to the left side. The roadway was relatively narrow and closed in by large boulders and trees. There was no place to turn around or maneuver effectively. Suddenly three men burst out of the brush on the left. Another pair jumped out from behind the rocks on the right. As Kaler drew his sword and pushed his mount forward, Rigo grabbed his staff by reflex. A motion in the distance caught his eye and he detected three archers in the trees well ahead just as they fired their arrows.
Instinctively he thrust the staff out horizontally in front of himself and Daria, giving it a couple of quick jerks as the arrows closed in. Three solid “thunks” could be heard as the arrows embedded themselves in the wood of the ancient shaft. Rigo’s full attention was on the distant archers, who he could see were preparing to fire another volley. He heard sounds off to either side, but couldn’t afford the time to check on what was taking place.
Something shifted in his mind and he knew the staff needed to be employed here. The archers were too far away to destroy their bows. Even had they been closer, he couldn’t deal with three of them at a time. He pointed the staff in the direction of the distant archers and envisioned fire. Immediately a series of fiercely burning bright balls of fire erupted from the end of the staff, swiftly traversing the fifty paces between himself and the enemy archers. The fireballs were easily guided by mere thought. Each of the men were struck repeatedly as the balls of energy ripped into them and ignited the very flesh of their bodies. Within moments three burning crumpled heaps of what had been men were all that was left.
Realizing the danger from the archers was over, Rigo turned to address the nearer danger only to find that Kaler had handily dispatched the three men on his side. Daria hadn’t been idle either, and Rigo saw that the two men who had attempted to approach the wagon on her side were dead with knives buried in their throats. That answered the question of whether she could use the knives she carried.
“Are you all right?” he asked, turning towards his passenger. Her face looked uncommonly bright.
“I’m okay,” she replied, but her wide eyes were intent upon him. “What did you do?” she asked. “How did you do that?”
Rigo realized she had seen him launch the balls of condensed fire. In fact, he didn’t know how he’d done it. Once again, this was a skill he’d never tapped before. He sensed the staff had a hand in what had happened. The need had been there and suddenly he’d known how to respond. If he could survive enough encounters like this he might be amazed at what abilities he uncovered.
He held up the staff with the three arrows embedded in it. He shook it once and the arrows dropped free, the holes they had created vanishing as if they had never been. “This is going to take a little explaining,” he said uncertainly.
“He used magic,” Kaler said as he rode over beside them. “I’ve never seen that particular aspect of his skill, but he’s always full of surprises.”
“Magic?” Daria asked doubtfully. “There’s no such thing as magic.”
“Call it what you will,” Kaler said, “but what he does is close enough for me until someone comes up with a better explanation.”
Daria’s eyes shifted to Rigo. “Is it true?”
“It seems to be,” Rigo said knowing there was little point of trying to deny it. “Don’t know why, but I’ve always had some ability with it. My abilities appear to be maturing though. Kaler’s right. I have never done something like that before.”
“It was a good time to learn,” she noted. “We wouldn’t have been able to deal with the archers without it.”
Rigo nodded, his stomach a bit sour as he looked at the still burning mounds in the distance.
“Cutpurses?” he asked Kaler, indicating the bodies scattered around them.
“No. From their dress they look like they’re from Lopal. I’d guess it is part of a raiding party.”
“You mean there might be more of them nearby?” Rigo asked, quickly scanning the trees.
“Can’t say. We should be more alert as we continue.”
“Is there anything on them that identifies them?” Rigo asked. He climbed down from the wagon to have a look.
Rigo checked the bodies of the men that Daria had killed, finding nothing of much value. He recovered her blades, wiping them on the clothes of the deceased men. He handed the blades up to her and she calmly slipped them back out of sight. He could tell she was still watching him uncertainly.
“Nothing on these two,” Rigo said.
“Just a few items on the others, “ Kaler said having completed his own inspection. He handed Rigo a few loose coins and a small leather pouch one of the dead men had been carrying.
Rigo handed the coins back to Kaler after noting they bore the imprint from Lopal, and proceeded to check the contents of the purse. Several small coins fell into his hand, followed by a silver colored chain and a pendant with a blue stone.
His hand froze momentarily as he spotted the necklace. Carefully he extracted it from the coins and let it dangle at the end of the chain. It was the crossed circles of Risos. It was the twin of the one he’d had taken from him by the Duke’s men. He examined it carefully and came to the inevitable conclusion this was actually the same necklace he’d owned before, not a copy. He’d worn it for many months and was familiar with each dent and scratch on it. This was without a doubt his.
“What’s that?” Kaler asked noting his intense scrutiny of the object. “Valuable?”
“Not really,” Rigo replied absently. “But how did it get here?”
“What do you mean?” Kaler asked.
Rigo looked up at his friend. “It’s mine. It was taken from me back in Branid when the Duke had me arrested. How could it be here, so far away and in the hands of men from Lopal?”
“It’s just a copy,” Kaler replied. “I’ve seen many like it.”
&n
bsp; Rigo silently shook his head. He knew it wasn’t the case. Like his staff, the necklace had found him again. He slipped it over his head. It was something to think about.
He climbed up into the wagon next to Daria. “You know one of my secrets. How about telling me one of yours?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You are damn good with those knives. Both struck absolutely perfectly and in the same location. I’ve never known of anyone who can consistently throw and hit with knives. You did it unprepared and while still stiff and sore from your wound. Who are you?”
Daria was silent for several moments. Rigo could see the calculation going on behind her normally unrevealing eyes. He expected a lie when she suddenly said softly.
“Sometimes I’m called KalaBhoot,” she said, watching for his reaction.
The name meant nothing to Rigo and he showed his confusion.
“What’s a KalaBhoot?”
“It’s from the ancient language of the Wanderers,” she said.
Kaler who had been listening asked softly, “the Black Ghost?”
Daria’s eyes shifted to Kaler and she nodded.
“What’s the Black Ghost?” Rigo asked, the new name meant no more than the other to him.
“I heard rumors while in Pagner,” Kaler said. “KalaBhoot is whispered to be the most deadly assassin in the known world. Most thought him to be just a legend.”
“There’s a lot the stories have wrong, but I’m real,” she said. “I guess I owe you the whole story, huh?”
Chapter 25
They made camp early that evening, once they were well away from the scene of the ambush and in a spot that was well concealed and defensible. They had not seen sign of any additional threat, but that didn’t mean that someone might not be nearby. The woods were thick here and could conceal a small army. The spot selected, in this instance by Daria herself, allowed for a fire that was well concealed against being discovered. Even so, they passed the night without a fire, since it was already summer and warm enough in this latitude. They made do with a cold meal from their supplies, and relied on the light from the moon. The night was half over when they had finished their respective tales, speaking softly in the security of the hideaway. Among other things, Rigo explained how his magic had been able to purge the infection from Daria allowing her own resilience to bring her back from near death. Daria had told her tale earlier, holding back only her real name. That was something known only to a very few and linked her to her past. She could see no reason it was important and chose not to reveal that one private fact.
“You really have no idea how you came to have these marvelous abilities?” Daria asked Rigo when he had finished his story.
“None at all,” he replied. “I have no memories of the time before my adopted father found me. I can only assume there must be others, and I hope to find some evidence that can point me to them.”
“You mentioned in your telling that you feel compelled toward the southeast. That would seem to be a call that should not be ignored.”
“I am coming to believe you are right. At first I thought it a meaningless whim, but given what I have seen I am starting to believe there is substance for it. I had hoped to learn more before venturing in search of what the call might be. Besides, the direction is so vague I am not certain it would be able to direct me effectively. It is also certain the journey would require passing through Lopal, which we appear to be at odds with at the moment, and beyond, into what is known as the Ruins. I am not sure I am up to such a venture. I had hoped to find answers without venturing into such a desolate and unforgiving place as it is said to be.”
“It would be an expedition not to be taken lightly,” Daria agreed. “But it may be the only way to find the answers you seek.”
“Hopefully we will learn something at the monastery which will decide the matter for me,” Rigo replied.
“You certainly have skills that I have never seen the like of before. They should serve you well if you elect to go. The way you were able to catch those arrows in flight was something to behold. We would have died if not for your quick actions.”
“That was not me,” Rigo answered her. “That was the staff acting to protect me, or I guess us, in this case.”
“Your staff,” she said in surprise. “That’s absurd. It’s just an old piece of wood.”
“It’s far more,” he countered. “Can you find any sign of marks from the arrows that were imbedded in it? asked Rigo. “I can leave the staff behind, and it will find me before long, and immediately if its presence is required. I do not know the origin of the device, but it is somehow linked to me and what I am to accomplish.”
“You believe you have some purpose you are meant to accomplish?”
“Something is prodding me onward. There has to be an explanation for the staff and why it is tied so closely to me. Also this,” he said as he pulled the necklace out of his pouch. “I bought this by sheer chance. It has never revealed its purpose to me. It was taken by the Duke, and now it appears once again. It is beyond me to think of how that could happen.”
“You don’t know its purpose?” Kaler asked, looking at the dangling ornament.
“Not at all. Only once did it seem to turn warm against my skin. I still don’t know if that was real or imagined, and have no idea of what it might have signified. I suspect its purpose is important, or it wouldn’t continue to find me.”
They were silent for a moment, then Kaler spoke up. “What about you?” he asked, directing the question to Daria. “What about the Duke and the contract you have in Lopal? Are you really intending to go back there?”
“Both will have to wait. I am in no shape to function at a level that would have much chance of success. The Duke represents a personal debt, and I have made a solemn promise to myself that he will feel my blade at his throat. I may have to forfeit the contract in Lopal. I will have a message delivered through the contacts that initially forwarded the request and negotiated the terms. If the matter can wait until I am functional again, then that may still go forward. Otherwise, the requestor will have to look elsewhere. It is the first time KalaBhoot has failed, but I cannot see any other way. I took the contract as much because it was a real challenge as anything, and now I am simply not up to it.”
The next morning they continued their journey, alert to any sign that others were in the area. At the first crossroad that headed inland, they turned away from the river, assuming the path south would be safer the farther they ventured from the border with Lopal. They would have to pass through the wild, an area of rugged hills that separated the flatlands along the southern section of the river from the vast greenbelt of the interior. Rigo demonstrated to Daria’s amazement the staff’s ability to follow him by jamming it firmly into a soft spot beside the trail and then continuing on without it. An hour later they came upon it similarly positioned in the center of their path many miles down the trail.
No other encounters marred their journey, and a week later they came upon the first village since leaving the boat back at the river. Anxious for a chance to enjoy real beds and a warm bath, they checked into the larger of the two inns available. They met in the evening in the common room for the evening meal, something far more varied and flavorful than they had been accustomed to on the trail. The break was pleasant, even the background chatter from the other diners, making them feel they weren’t alone in the wilderness. Having passed through the wilds, they were back in settled lands where vast farms spread as far as the eye could see. Rigo’s enjoyment was marred only by a nagging sense of being observed the entire time they were in the village. When he asked Kaler about this, the other indicated he had detected no sign of anyone. Daria similarly was unaware of any interest in them, and her senses were far superior to their own in this manner. Nonetheless, Rigo was unable to shake the feeling, that only passed after they left the village to continue onward.
Days became weeks as they continued heading south. Daria became
stronger, the angry redness fading from the wound in her side. While she said the pain was far less, the stiffness and restricted movement did not seem to be getting better. That concerned her far more than the unsightly scar that covered the entire left side of her torso. She accepted her condition stoically, and spent an hour every morning and evening performing stretching exercises in hopes of improving the situation. For a couple of hours every morning she sat astride one of the horses pulling the wagon. Finally she declared herself fit enough to ride all day if needed. Should the need arise, they could abandon the wagon and travel overland, departing the established roads.
One night while they were camped in a small canyon with a crystal clear stream flowing gently through it, she came back to camp from washing at the stream carrying a small glowing flower. She sat next to Kaler and passed him the bloom.
“What is that?” he said, marveling at the soft glow from the blossom.
“The People call them “twinklers”,” she told him. “They are very rare and resist cultivation. I’ve seen them from time to time spread all over the lands I traveled. They appear to choose for themselves where to grow.”
“Was this one growing in bison shit?” Kaler said, pushing the blossom away from him after attempting to smell it.
Daria laughed. “I should have warned you. One of the sad things about them is the foul odor they carry. With such a remarkable flower, one would expect just the opposite.”
Rigo reached over and accepted the bloom from Kaler, careful to keep it away from his nose. He could already smell enough for his taste.
“Are they good for anything?” he asked, twirling the single flower to examine it from all sides.
“Not that I know of,” she answered. “They are too rare to spend much time on, and those of the Wanderers who have tried, have found nothing of value in them. They appear to be just a curiosity. I just thought you might find it interesting if you hadn’t encountered them before.”