Evil Within

by Richard S. Tuttle

  "And it would be days before we can get one from Anatar," interjected Monte. "Will he die?"

  "He will die unless we get help for him," nodded Horst. "Who would do such a despicable thing? The old man would voluntarily give up his gold to any bandit rather than incur something like this."

  "Someone who Kerzi must have recognized," answered Jared as he brought a bowl of water and a cloth and kneeled beside the old man. "They did not want him to live to tell others their identity."

  "That makes sense," nodded Gunnar as the lad started to clean the old man's face. "Bandits do not attack in town. They always spring their ambushes on the road because they do not want their identities known lest they become victims themselves."

  Horst relinquished the wounded merchant to Jared's care and started boiling some water. Gunnar paced in anger, and Talot moved into the trees to take up a sentry position. Monte stripped the old man and then searched his pack for some clothes that would fit Kerzi.

  "His body is beaten almost as badly as his face," Monte said softly to Horst. "He is not going to make it, but at least he will be buried in decent clothes."

  Gunnar suddenly felt a tingling in his body, and he whirled expecting to see someone sneaking into the camp, but there was no one behind him except Jared and Kerzi. He stared at the old man and saw a faint nimbus surrounding his body. The Arin prince stood silently, his mouth agape, as the wounds on Kerzi's face began to close, and the blood welling out of them appeared to cease. Monte also saw what was happening, and he tapped Horst on the shoulder. Horst cleared his throat to speak, but Gunnar's hand shot up quickly to halt any conversation.

  The three warriors stood transfixed as the cuts on the merchant's face turned to thin white lines and then finally disappeared completely. As the old man's face healed completely, the cuts on the rest of his body began to shrink. Jared continued to wash Kerzi's wounds as if he was unaware of the healing going on before his eyes. As the lad cleaned an area of the body, the blood seeps halted, and the cuts closed. The warriors stood silently and watched, as if afraid that any sound they made would break whatever spell was doing the healing. Unexpectedly, the old man's eyes opened, and he stared at Jared attending to his cuts. For several long minutes, Kerzi remained speechless.

  "I made it," smiled the old man. "I knew I would."

  Jared turned and blinked at the merchant's uncut face. His eyes clouded in confusion, and he shook his head as if to clear his vision. Gunnar hurried to his side and knelt next to him. He put his arm gently around the lad and held him comfortingly.

  "You made it, old man," Monte smiled. "Who did this to you?"

  Kerzi stared at Gunnar and said nothing.

  "What happened?" pushed Monte. "You are safe now. You can tell us."

  "I am happy to be alive and safe," Kerzi smiled weakly. "That is all that matters."

  "That is not all that matters, old man," growled Gunnar, "and you know it. Who did this to you?"

  "You had best tend to the lad," Kerzi said softly, "and let me deal with my own problems."

  Gunnar frowned in confusion and turned to look at Jared. The lad's eyes were like two bright moons in a dark sky, and his mouth was open in an expression of horror. Only then did Gunnar realize that Jared was shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm. He scooped Jared into his arms and rose to his feet. He walked to a large rock next to the campfire and sat down with his back against it, holding Jared's head in his lap. He ran his hand soothingly over Jared's face and watched as Jared's eyes began to grow smaller. His eyes finally began to focus and he stared up at Gunnar.

  "It's magic," cried Jared. "It can be nothing else. I did it. I am cursed."

  The lad burst into tears, and Gunnar silently cradled him. After several minutes the cries turned to sobs, and the Arin prince let the lad work it out of his system.

  "I don't know why your father taught you that the Talent is a curse," Gunnar said softly when the sobs had diminished, "but it is not. The Talent is a skill like any other. It can be used for good or for evil. How it is used is up to the individual."

  "Father said it was a curse," argued Jared. "Why would he lie to me?"

  "Is it a curse to have saved Kerzi's life?" Gunnar asked softly. "You do know that he would have died but for you, don't you?"

  "I only meant to clean his wounds," explained Jared.

  "And you did much more," smiled the Arin prince. "I never knew your father, and he sounds like he loved you very much, but his words regarding the Talent were not accurate. I cannot suppose to understand the motivation for what he said, but I suspect he may have had an encounter with someone who used the Talent in an evil way. I have come to know you rather well in a short period of time, Jared. I know you well enough to know that you would never do such a thing. You are not an evil person."

  "I don't want to be evil," Jared declared, "but I cannot control what is inside me. It does what it wants. I want to cut it out of my body and cast it away."

  "No," Gunnar shook his head. "You just saved a man's life, Jared. Think about that for a moment. For all of our skills, there was nothing the rest of us could have done to save Kerzi. If you did not have the Talent within you, that poor old man would have crawled all night only to die by our fire. I cannot tell you how thrilled I am that the Talent resides within you."

  "Thrilled?" echoed the lad. "Do you mean that?"

  "I do," admitted the Arin prince. "Kerzi has become much like a second father to me. I would have mourned his death forever. There is nothing I would not give you for saving him. Do not look upon your Talent as a curse. It is a powerful blessing, but you must learn to control it."

  "How can I do that?" asked Jared.

  "I do not know," admitted Gunnar, "but I will promise you that together we will find out. I am already in search of a master of the Talent, and I will keep you with me until we find one. Together we will learn about the Talent within you, and you will learn to control it and use it for good purposes. Will you trust me in this?"

  Jared looked up at Gunnar and smiled thinly. "I will try," he promised. "You are like a second father to me. I know that you will never hurt me, and I trust you."

  "I don't know about being a father," chuckled Gunnar, "but maybe a big brother. There is only about five years between us."

  "A brother then," smiled Jared.

  Horst and Monte had helped Kerzi to his feet and helped him to dress in the clothes that Monte had donated to him. They brought him over to the fire and sat him down. Horst made him a cup of hot tea and Monte gave him a chunk of bread and a hunk of dried meat. The merchant devoured the food and sipped his tea as he listened to Gunnar and Jared talking. He smiled as they finished and Jared sat up.

  "How do you feel?" Monte asked the merchant.

  "Like I was run over by a wagon," the old man grumbled, but with a smile on his lips. "I don't know how to thank you, Jared, but I owe you my life."

  "You owe me nothing, Kerzi," smiled the lad. "You helped me when I needed it. We must all help one another."

  "That is exactly correct," interjected Gunnar. "We are all one here, and that is why I want to know who beat you, Kerzi."

  The old man frowned and shook his head. "I know you too well, Gunnar. You will march into town and murder a bunch of people. You will probably get yourself killed in the process, and I am not going to have that on my conscience. I am alive and that is all that matters. I do not want to talk about it any more."

  "Do not play the fool, Kerzi," scowled Gunnar. "Those people tried to kill you, and they did so for a reason. You know who they are, and they don't want you to live to tell anyone."

  "And that is exactly why I will not tell anyone," Kerzi declared adamantly.

  "You miss the point, Kerzi," Horst said softly. "You are alive, which means that you are threat to these people now. They will continue to try to kill you as long as you are alive. They will do so out of fear that you might tell someone."

  "They are right," agreed Monte. "You will never be able to ri
de a wagon through Capri again without fear of being recognized."

  "That doesn't matter," shrugged the old man. "I no longer have a wagon, nor the gold to buy the one I ordered. What they didn't steal, they destroyed."

  "And you will leave them free to kill another innocent merchant?" asked Horst. "What they did to you is beyond anything that any civilized person can accept. I know that you are trying to protect Gunnar by keeping this information to yourself, but you are wrong in doing so."

  "I don't think it is wrong," Kerzi said adamantly. "I am avoiding bloodshed. That is never wrong."

  "Yes it is," argued Gunnar. "When a man sees evil and averts his eyes rather than get involved, he sanctions that evil and raises it to a level that makes it acceptable. I will never be such a man, and I don't think you are that type of person either. We can settle this one of two ways, Kerzi. Either you can tell me who your attackers were, or I will march into Goodland and demand to know, and I won't leave until I find out."

  "You would be throwing your life away," scowled Kerzi, "and what would you accomplish? I'll tell you. You would accomplish nothing because that whole town is a den of thieves. Just about every one of them would cut your throat just as soon as talk to you. You go ahead and march into Goodland. They will tell you nothing, and you will end up leaving. That's better in my eyes than your dying for something that is already over."

  "I told you yesterday, old man," retorted Gunnar. "I always keep my promises. If I said I would stay there until I found out who attacked you then that is what I will do."

  "And he won't do it alone," interjected Horst.

  "I agree," nodded Monte, "and I know that Talot would also agree."

  "You are all crazy," cried Kerzi. "I should have died in Goodland, and this would all be over with and forgotten."

  "Who did it?" pressed Gunnar. "Tell me. I will not let them do it to another innocent merchant."

  Kerzi stared at Gunnar, and tears poured down his cheeks. Gunnar wanted to run to the old man and hug him, but he refused to let Kerzi stonewall him on the identity of his attackers. He stared at the merchant and waited for an answer.

  "They did not kill me," Kerzi said softly. "They tried, and they came close, but they didn't kill me. If I tell you who they are, I want you to promise not to kill them. If you cannot promise that, I will tell you nothing."

  Gunnar gritted his teeth in frustration, but he knew that he had pushed Kerzi as far as the old man would go. Slowly, he nodded his head.

  "I will not kill them," promised the Arin prince, "unless they try to kill one of us. That is as fair as I can be."

  Kerzi nodded in acceptance and looked to Horst to make the promise. Horst hesitated for several minutes. The Odessian was not a bloodthirsty man, but he hated to go into battle with such a restriction. Sometimes it was wiser to kill before being killed. To arbitrarily wait for them to strike first was asking for trouble. Finally, the Odessia prince nodded.

  "I agree to your terms," he said softly.

  "Monte?" asked the merchant.

  "I agree," the Caroomite said quickly. "I will relieve Talot so he may deliver his promise."

  Monte slid into the trees, and Talot soon appeared.

  "I will follow Gunnar's lead," stated the Lomite giant. "His word is my word."

  Kerzi looked at Jared, and Gunnar shook his head vigorously.

  "The lad stays with you," Gunnar declared. "Just the four of us will go to town. Tell us what we need to know."

  "The leader is a big man," Kerzi sighed. "He is called Babul, and his assistant is a weasel named Alan. There were about a dozen of them, Gunnar. Now that you know, I beg you to let it be. Let's just move on."

  "I will keep the promise that I have given to you, Kerzi," declared the Arin prince, "but I truly hope that Babul tries to kill me."

  Chapter 26 - The Unexpected Archer

  The Unexpected Archer

  The four warriors rode into Goodland and dismounted before they came to the broad avenue where the merchants hired their warriors. They walked through an alleyway and came out across the street from the tavern. Three merchant wagons were already lined up along the broad avenue, but the contest was still some time away. The merchants stood lazily talking amongst themselves as they waited for more wagons to arrive.

  Gunnar walked over to the pile of staffs resting against the inn and picked one up. He left Horst, Talot, and Monte leaning against the wall of the inn and stepped into the street where a large bell hung from a post. He took the staff and slammed it into the bell causing a loud peal to shatter the silence. Men came running out of the tavern, pushing and shoving those in front of them. Gunnar waited patiently in the street for the crowd to assemble. One of the last to leave the tavern was Babul. Alongside him was a shorter man with a rodent face.

  The warriors gathered outside the tavern and looked around in confusion, but Babul's eyes focused on Gunnar. The Arin prince walked into the center of the street and spoke loudly.

  "My name is Gunnar," called the Arin prince, "and I have a job available."

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Gunnar knew that he had their attention.

  "I need a thief and a despicable bully who beats old men with the intent to kill them," shouted Gunnar. "This man must be of the caliber to resort to robbery within the town of Goodland, and he must be the sort to require a dozen additional warriors for the beating so that he doesn't get hurt himself. The job pays in spent blood and bruises."

  Many of the assembled warriors were laughing, thinking the whole thing was a joke, but Babul's face reddened with rage.

  "Who wants to send forth Babul, the old-man killer?" shouted Gunnar.

  A hush fell over the crowd as they realized a challenge was being issued, and there was no joke to be had. Many of the men glared at Babul, but others shook their head in disbelief.

  "Stifle your tongue, Gunnar from up north," shouted Babul. "One does not go around spouting such sick jokes."

  "This is no joke, Babul," glared Gunnar, "and you know it. Kerzi crawled on bloody knees all night to reach my campsite. It is only a miracle that he did not die, a miracle for him, but a tragedy for you, Alan, and the rest of your gang. I grew very fond of Kerzi on the journey we recently shared, and it took a great deal of effort to promise him that I would not kill you today. Let me warn you up front. I promised the old man that I would not kill you unless you tried to kill me, but I am going to beat you so hard that you might wish you were dead. Get out here and take what you have coming."

  The crowd grew boisterous, and although Babul tried to shrink back into the crowd, he was propelled into the street. Alan came tumbling after him as someone shoved the mousy man forward. The warriors in Goodland were a thieving bunch, but even they had standards, and killing a merchant in town was not allowed. Babul turned and looked back at the glaring crowd. He knew that he could not avoid the fight, so he whistled loudly, and ten men shoved their way through the crowd and stood beside their leader.

  "You picked the wrong way to go about this, Gunnar," snarled Babul as he nodded to his group of warriors. "You may have promised the old man not to kill me, but I have no such qualms."

  Gunnar stripped off his sword and placed it on the ground. He walked to the stack of staffs and began throwing them into the street until he had delivered twelve of them to his opponents.

  "Remove your weapons," instructed Gunnar. "We fight with staffs only. If you touch a weapon, you die."

  "You going to kill all twelve of us?" laughed Babul.

  Gunnar smiled thinly and waved his friends forward. Horst, Talot, and Monte walked into the street and laid their weapons on the ground. They grabbed staffs and flanked the Arin prince.

  "Not kill," smiled Gunnar, "not unless you invite me to it by keeping your weapons. I would prefer that, but I do keep my promises. It is your choice."

  One of Babul's men in the rear of the group had a bow, and he took an arrow and nocked it. A spectator stepped forward and knocked the bow and arrow ou
t of his hands.

  "You either fight with swords to the death," snarled the spectator, "or you fight with staffs."

  The crowd roared its approval, and Babul looked around nervously. He was a capable fighter, but he didn't believe in fair fights. As he looked at the crowd in front of the tavern, his eyes rose skyward, and he saw two of his men on the roof with their bows. That was what he had been waiting for. He grinned broadly and nodded.

  "Drop your weapons," ordered Babul. "There are only four of them."

  The men put their swords and bows on the ground and picked up the staffs. The twelve men moved forward and spread out in arc.

  "Three apiece," Horst said softly. "Spread out and concentrate on your three only. Strike to immobilize the weakest first so there are fewer opponents. If you get into trouble shout it out."

  Gunnar and his three friends spread out as they walked forward. Gunnar and Talot took the center. Horst moved to the right of Gunnar, and Monte moved to Talot's left.

  "You start on the very end of their line," Talot whispered to Monte. "I can handle more than three."

  "Thanks," Monte replied nervously. "I have never done this before."

  "Then you are a courageous man," smiled the giant.

  The two opposing groups stopped in the middle of the broad avenue about ten paces apart. Babul mumbled something unintelligible and his men rushed forward. The bandit leader purposely lagged a step behind so he would be able to mop up after his men had inflicted their damage.

  "Backstabbing time," Horst called to Gunnar as he suddenly jumped far to his right.

  The three opponents of Horst had to turn to their left to attack the Odessian. Gunnar suddenly dove to his right and came up behind the men attacking Horst. Together the two princes lashed out from in front and behind the three men. Gunnar slammed his staff into one man's legs, causing him to stumble into the man next to him. The Arin prince immediately turned around to confront his original opponents as Horst slammed his staff into the head of his remaining opponent.