by Laura Lond
You’ve lost two coins, buddy.
The owner forgot to count, but the crowd did it for him.
“One! Two! Three!”
The young woman clung to the stallion’s neck, clutching his mane, holding so tight that she and the horse seemed to have grown into one. This was where the battle would be won or lost. A horse with its head up cannot buck, and the way she held the stallion’s mane discouraged him from putting his head down.
“Four! Five! Six! Seven!”
She held on.
“Eight! Nine!! Ten!!!”
Make it three coins.
The stallion raged and kicked so hard that even the owner stepped aside.
“All right, that’s enough, somebody help me to hold the horse!” he shouted.
“Stay away!” returned the pirate girl. “Break the deal and I’ll break your neck!”
Now, that was one spunky young woman. I liked her language, not to mention her courage and skill.
I thought she would be thrown off at one stage when she tried to reclamp her legs around the horse, but she managed to turn the stallion in tight circles and reposition herself. Once she had him turning tight circles I knew she had won, and so did the stallion.
Suddenly, the horse just stopped. He stood there, breathing hard, frothing at the mouth, still mad but willing to obey. The crowd applauded.
Make it five.
The young lady gracefully dismounted, stepped up to the stallion’s owner and held out her hand.
“My money please.”
The fellow frowned as he counted off the coins, he clearly didn’t plan on losing this much, but he wisely decided not to go back on his word. It was very likely that the pirate girl was just as skilled with her blade as she was with horses.
Well, this was some good entertainment, but I was on business. Wasting no more time, I went into the tavern and asked the tavern-keeper, a big stocky man, whether he could find me a guide to the hermit’s house.
“Bergel can take you there,” he replied after some thought, “if he is sober. I’ll send someone for him if you’d like.”
“How about someone who isn’t a drunk?”
“Well, there’s Panamack, the shepherd, he knows the way, but he’s old. And he can’t leave the herd.”
It didn’t look like there was much of a choice.
“Find someone to watch the herd for him, I will pay.”
“Very well. I’ll send a boy first to ask whether he’s up to it. Would you like to have a meal while you are waiting? I’ve got excellent fried fish, caught today!”
I ordered a plate. The fish was decent, but far from excellent. I ate and waited. And waited. And waited some more.
“Where is that boy of yours?”
“Still hasn’t returned. He should be back any minute though. Would you like anything else? My beer is the best, it’s a secret family recipe, you’ve got to try it!”
I figured that the crook was trying to sell me more food and drink while the boy either never left or was instructed not to hurry back. For a moment or two, I toyed with the idea of leveling the place to the ground, but decided against it: Triar might find out and refuse to help me.
I rose from the table.
“I’ll go to the shepherd myself. Where can I find him?”
The tavern-keeper reluctantly gave directions. I paid for the meal and headed to the door.
It was not smart of me to wear the king’s golden medallion out in the open, I should have kept it in my pocket. I realized it the moment someone’s quick hand snatched it off my neck.
I dashed after the thief, but two more men blocked my way, one of them with a knife, the other with a sword.
So much for deciding to leave the tavern intact.
I wasn’t sure whether using the sparkling’s sword for this would be justified, so I limited myself to my fists, tableware, and furniture. Having knocked the knife out of the first guy’s hand, I relieved the second one from a couple of teeth and went after the thief again. As I grabbed him, he tossed the medallion to someone else.
Oh, great. How many of them are here?
It wasn’t easy to count, but there were more thugs than chairs. I can tell you that, because when I broke the last one, I still had men coming at me.
Between dodging and giving blows, watching my back and searching for anything usable in the fight, I lost sight of the medallion. Whoever had it could have already sneaked out, leaving the rest of the gang to distract me, and it did not look like I was going to be done with them any time soon.
WHACK!
A large fellow toppled over—a fellow I didn’t hit. The pirate girl stepped on his chest, holding the blade to his throat.
“Give it here.”
Yes, he had the medallion—and he handed it up.
“Good boy.”
She took the medallion, tucked it away, and joined the fight. She was just as skilled with the sword as she was with horses. Her curved blade flashed and whirled, never missing, parrying blows, hitting back, bringing thugs down left and right. Before long, the few who remained gave up the fight and fled.
I looked over the battlefield… Let’s just say cleaning the place up was going to be quite a chore. That must be what the tavern-keeper thought, too, as he peeked from under a table.
The pirate girl stepped up to me and produced the medallion.
“I believe this is yours, sir,” she said, handing it over.
“Thank you.” I took it. “What is your name?”
“Cassandra. And I wasn’t doing this for a thank you.”
“Oh? What do you want, then?”
“Fifty golden coins.”
“Fifty?!” My, she certainly knew how to make a profit. “You probably meant fifteen.”
“Nope. Fifty is what I meant, and fifty is what I want. From my observations, this little piece of jewelry is worth much more than that to you.”
“And what makes you think that I’ve got this kind of money?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I know a nobleman when I see one. I bet you’ve got a title, and a treasury that goes with it.”
She was right, I had both. However, while my title was always with me, my treasury wasn’t. I relayed that to the entrepreneurial young lady.
“You did help me quite a bit, and I’d pay you fifty coins if I had them, but all I’ve got is twenty, and a long journey ahead of me. Will you take fifteen? I need to keep at least five for myself.”
She looked me over, thinking.
“I’ll take ten, for now.”
“For now? What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m stuck with you, wherever you’re going. You’ll pay the remaining forty when you get home.”
I laughed. “That’s going to be a while, young lady. We’re talking weeks, probably months.”
She wasn’t dissuaded.
“I’ve got time, I am out of work at the moment. Forty golden coins is nothing to be sneezed at. I’ve got to keep an eye on my investment. Who knows, I might be of service to you again.”
“And bill me for it?”
“Naturally.”
Well, at least I knew exactly where she stood. Besides, she promised to make a fun companion.
I gave her ten coins. Cassandra tied them into a handkerchief and stuffed it into her pocket.
“There’s one other thing,” I said. “I have one condition. You’ve got to promise not to help me when I say so.”
“What?”
“Well, there are certain tasks that I must perform without anyone’s aid. So when I ask you to stay back, you must obey.”
She scratched her brow. “All right. Got it. I don’t help when you want no help. I can even hinder you if you’d like, but that will cost extra. So, where are we going?”
“For starters, to Triar the hermit.” I sighed. “If I manage to find a guide.”
“Look no further. I know the man, I’ll take you to him. That will be ten more coins.”
I couldn’t he
lp laughing again. “The service isn’t worth five, but you know what? I like you, so I’m not gonna bargain. Forty plus ten, I owe you fifty.”
“Fifty it is. A nice round sum, easy to remember,” she confirmed. And I thought she blushed a little.
***
Chapter 3
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“You know my name, and I still do not know yours,” said Cassandra, riding her stout brown mare next to my Onyx. “Not fair.”
She was right, I had not introduced myself yet. After a moment of consideration, I decided that revealing my real name should not create any problems with her.
“I am Lord Arkus.”
The girl’s eyes widened, but that was the expression of amazement and curiosity, not fear.
“Lord Arkus? The Lord Arkus?!”
So she’d heard about me.
“That depends on what you mean by ‘the’.”
“The lord of Blackriver Castle! The one who’d set a big monster on Prince Kellemar of Dalvanna!”
Hmm, I did not know that word about that had already spread so far…
“Well, that’s not how it was. However, if this is what people are saying, I am pleased.”
“People are also saying that you like capturing folks and collecting ransom.”
“True.” I smiled. “You are safe though, I’ve got other things planned.”
“Ha! As if you’d make any money off of me… So what are you doing here, if I may ask, traveling all by yourself?” Cassandra patted her horse’s neck, making it go a little faster. “By the way, you can tell me stuff. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s good. I am here on business, and it does require secrecy. I will tell you more when the time comes.”
She nodded and rode in silence.
“My turn to ask questions. You mentioned you’re out of work, what sort of work would that be?”
“Have you heard of Roderick’s gang?”
“The gang of highwaymen in northern parts of Ulkaria?”
“That’s the one. I was in it.”
So she wasn’t a pirate, she was a highwaywoman. Close enough.
“I suppose that explains your skill with the blade. What happened to the gang?”
“Roderick chickened out. Got scared of that Lakeland Knight fellow and dismissed us.”
Oops. Her job loss was my fault.
“I take it you’re not a fan of the Lakeland Knight, then. Good. Neither am I.”
I looked around. We were riding up the mountainside, moving along a rocky trail in the woods. The pathway was narrowing. Soon enough it was not going to be possible to ride side by side.
“How far is the hermit’s house?”
“Not far, we can actually see it from here. Under that pine tree.”
I couldn’t see it.
“Where?”
“Over there,” Cassandra pointed again, “behind those shrubs. Triar painted his house green, so that it’s harder to notice.”
“Not exactly a people person, huh?”
“No. What do you want from him, anyway?”
“I need his help with something.”
“Help??” She scoffed. “Good luck with that.”
The trail was getting too steep for horses. Just when I was about to point it out to Cassandra, she pulled on the reins, stopping her mare.
“All right, let’s stop here. I’m not going to Triar, we are not on friendly terms. I’ll stay with the horses.”
I had no objections. Having dismounted, I handed the reins over to Cassandra.
“I wouldn’t advise running away with my horse.”
She looked at me in indignation. “Who do you think I am?”
“A highwaywoman.”
“Well, yes, but that does not mean I can’t be trusted. When I work with someone, I play no tricks. Besides, you owe me more than your stuff is worth.”
The latter made sense. I nodded and headed to the green log house, barely visible through foliage.
There was no response when I knocked, so I knocked again.
“Go away,” came an annoyed voice. “Triar’s not home.”
Sure thing. As if I was going to believe that.
“If so, I will wait until he returns. I come from King Osmund of Ulkaria, on important business.”
Slow footsteps made a creaking noise, then came the sound of the door being unbolted. An old man emerged, small, skinny, with long white hair and beard—pretty much what I expected.
“Any proof of that claim?” he asked, looking me over.
I produced the medallion. The hermit took it, brought it close to his eyes and inspected both front and back.
“Come inside.”
I followed him into the house. It was dark, dusty, and full of books. Books were everywhere: on and under the table, chairs, desk, stacked on the floor, packed in wooden boxes—all that in addition to bookshelves lining every wall.
“Sorry for the less than warm welcome,” the hermit said. “I’ve got to keep idle gawkers away. Besides, I didn’t move all the way here to be bothered by visitors.”
“I understand.”
“So what does King Osmund need?”
“He asks you to help me, and what I need help with is this.”
I told him about the sword and three valiant deeds. Triar listened, nodding and stroking his beard.
“So you want leads, so to speak,” he said when I finished. “Well, there’s a dragon in Belveran that keeps burning crops, a sea serpent that made its way up the river Flagsha and terrorizes nearby villages, a group of witches that put a spell on a whole town, making it disappear in fog… You might want to write it all down, there’s paper and quills over there.”
I didn’t feel like doing a whole list of this stuff, three was bad enough.
“The king and I were hoping that you could tell me exactly, specifically what those deeds are.”
“Alas, no.” Triar sighed. “If I had my emerald apple, I’d find it out for you, but it was stolen.”
“Emerald apple? What’s that? And who stole it?”
“Swirgs, cunning and thieving underground creatures. My fault, I should have guarded it better. As to what it is, the emerald apple is a priceless tool, it allows to do a variety of things. One of them is getting truthful and accurate information. Once a year, I can ask the apple one question, no matter how difficult. It is also called the Apple of Faradin’s wisdom.”
“Well, if Faradin’s got something to do with it, it’s not going to work. I’ve already asked him my question, and he refused to answer.”
“Ah, but the apple would not refuse. It’s different. Whoever owns it owns the right for the answer. I haven’t used it for questions for several years, so if the apple was with me, I’d ask it specifically about each one of your deeds. But, as I said, Swirgs got it.”
“All right, let me go take it from them and bring it back. Where do I find these Swirgs?”
The hermit chuckled and shook his head.
“You don’t know what you are talking about. They are not going to just give it back. And very few who dare enter the Swirgs’ domain return.”
“Sounds like the stuff I signed up for, anyway. Dragons, Swirgs, what’s the difference?”
Triar gave me a long, thoughtful look.
“Well, now that I think of it, it might actually qualify as the Deed of Pure Hand. Yes, very likely. Not only is the apple hard to retrieve, you would be tempted to take it for yourself. If you keep your word and bring it back to me—provided you manage to stay alive, of course—I think there’s a good chance you’d have the first deed accomplished.”
“Then it’s settled. Give me directions to their place.”
“One of the entrances into their underground caves is not very far from here. Go down to the creek and follow the stream until you see two big oak trees. When you get there, look for a smaller creek that runs from under thick lilac bushes. The entrance is behind those bushes.”
T
hat was easy enough to remember, and I was sure glad I didn’t have to travel far this time.
“Remember this,” Triar went on, “Swirgs are excellent liars. If they don’t kill you on the spot—which they’ll try, as soon as they realize what you’re after—they will try to deceive you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Any idea where they might be hiding the apple?”
“Somewhere in water, it needs to be wet to work best. There will be other gemstones there, Swirgs love them and steal them from everywhere; but you should recognize the emerald apple when you see it: it is the size of a child’s fist, beautiful deep green.”
***
Cassandra waited for me, entertaining herself by throwing daggers at a thin dry birch tree—and hitting it every time.
“So Triar didn’t kick you out?” she asked. “How did you manage to get on his good side?”
“The medallion you rescued helped. Let’s go. I’ve got some fighting to do.”
“Oh? With whom?”
“Some creatures called Swirgs. Have you heard of them?”
“I heard stories when I was little, don’t know whether they’re true or not.” Cassandra untied the horses she had tethered to a tree. “From what I remember, Swirgs are small and harmless, they take care of forest plants and such. Why would you want to fight them?”
“You must be confusing them with someone else. Swirgs live underground, come out at night and steal stuff. Triar says they are rather dangerous.”
“Sounds like fun.” She handed me Onyx’s reins. “I suppose we’ll go back to the village first, to get you a new sword?”
“New sword? Why?”
“You didn’t use yours at the tavern, so I assume it’s broken—unless you are under some strange vow.”
“Ah.” I got in the saddle. “No vows, but I do need to be careful with this blade. It’s a long story.”
Cassandra did not press me into telling it. I liked that about her: having once said that I could “tell her stuff,” she was never nosy, leaving it up to me how much I would share.
We rode down to the valley where there ran a fast, crystal-clear creek. I headed downstream, as Triar instructed. Everything bloomed and flourished here, the valley looked like a carefully tended garden. Low thorny bushes with colorful berries drew my attention. They were everywhere; the leaves looked the same, yet the berries were different: on some of the bushes, they were dark purple, on others red, on still others pink, and on some almost white.