The Seeker - Finna's Quest

by E L Russell

  She hadn’t gone more than twenty paces when she sensed someone watching. The sudden absence of birds chirping down the path ahead reinforced her feelings. She ducked low and stepped off the path to take cover behind a moss-covered boulder.

  Methodically, she scanned the terrain and found two figures wearing leather helmets and knee-high boots furtively making their way toward her. They moved like seasoned warriors and both carried cross bows and long swords. Although short, she could see, even under thick brown robes, they were muscular.

  Finna re-counted her arrows, adjusted her knife, and waited. Her fighting experience had taught her many things and she used it all to evaluate the situation. No doubt the two men coming down the trail were a diversion, while others got into striking position. She heard the soft tread of two pairs of boots to her right, deeper in the woods. Behind her, planning to outflank her, two more pairs of footsteps approached. She approved. They were fighters with a solid plan.

  Finna countered with a plan of her own and returned to the path. She adjusted her stride to meet the three pairs where they would converge. She made a mental map of every boulder and tree within fifty paces and was confident her surprise counterattack and exceptional fighting skills would equalize their greater numbers. Leeth’s words rang in her ears that this was to be a test.

  A test for what? And why did she need their respect?

  The next move would be theirs, but she vowed no one needed to die this day.

  Finna closed the distance to her chosen spot at twenty paces and stopped, feet slightly apart, arms hanging loose at her sides. The two men approaching on the path halted within five paces. They kept their swords sheathed and their cross bows at their sides, obviously anticipating little danger from her. She sensed movement and heard breathing from the remaining two pairs thirty paces to her left and right.

  The man about her height said, “I am Knosh.” The slightly shorter one leered. “Be ye man or woman?” While he held his crossbow at his side, the bolt was loaded and the crossbow engaged.

  Not too subtle.

  Although surprised by their English, she avoided the question. “I intend to fill my water bag, no more.”

  Without warning, the shorter man raised his bow and loosed an arrow. Finna drew her own bow and sent a response that met his arrow tip-to-tip, slicing it in two. Before both arrows hit the ground, she had charged the pair, drawing one arrow after another from her bow hand and putting a shaft in each man’s leg. Then she sharply changed direction with no loss of speed and disappeared into the thicket, where she was no longer fenced in between hostile groups. After she caught her breath, she showed herself and ran just fast enough to be followed deeper into the woods.

  Breathing hard, she tossed the empty water bag over a low branch and within seconds the familiar thwack of arrows striking leather, told her men were close. She ran in a large circle and the men followed her, thus giving her a shooter’s edge at the trailing line of targets. Her labored breathing thundered in her ears and she worried she’d be heard.

  God’s Bones, she was out of shape. Leeth was right on that score. She willed her tired legs to run faster and closed the gap behind the last man. Within thudding heartbeats, she dispatched four arrows into a leg of the last four men. She’d aimed for their thighs to hit more flesh and generate less blood, but all her arrows unexpectedly made contact low in their calves. At least her first arrow traveled true.

  Returning to the path, she slowed to catcher breath before silently approaching the first two men she’d met, from behind. “Fellow warriors, I had hopes of getting water today. Instead, I was forced to give up six good hunting arrows.” Holding her bow and remaining arrows in one hand, she removed her knife and approached the taller man who’d first spoken to her. “You may keep the water bag you ruined, but I want my arrows returned.”

  Knosh yanked the shaft from his thigh without a sound, examined it with some ceremony, and extended it to her. “I see you hunt us without barbed tips. He grinned with good humor. You make your point most effectively. I will return what is yours.”

  Once she took the offered arrow, he dashed into the woods toward the angry sounds of his men beyond the thicket. In the process of rearranging her arrows in position for quick release, she was interrupted by the cold tip of metal between her shoulder blades. While she’d exchanged words with the taller man, the shorter man took advantage of the diversion. A beginner’s error.

  “You never said if you were a man or a woman. Turn slowly and open your shirt.”

  38

  Finna Makes a Point

  A Lesson in Manners

  Angry with herself for such a lackwit mistake, Finna turned with no intention of lifting her shirt. She lowered her chin to stare into his eyes. “I hadn’t planned on killing anyone today.”

  He sneered and opened his mouth to speak, but she cut short his words slapping her hands together and trapping his sword between her palms. He wiggled his blade with no success and swore in frustration.

  Predicting his next move was a no-brainer.

  He yanked hard.

  She opened her hands.

  The lack of resistance and the pull of his arms landed him hard on his ass and Finna followed him with a short jab of her sword to his groin.

  The would-be bully howled and covered his wound.

  Finna sneered. “Not such the big-boy, now, are you?”

  She carefully wiped her short sword and the arrow retrieved from Knosh’s leg with a fist full of leaves while keeping a close watch on the whimpering aggressor.

 

  Was it possible she detected an unfamiliar tone in his voice? Respect?

 

  She reached into her pocket and found the container just as he promised. Why was she even surprised?

 

  Knosh returned with arrows in both hands. “I had the men clean them. They bled slightly, but if you discount their embarrassment, all are well.”

  She stifled a grin of satisfaction. “I have a salve to treat their wounds.” Taking the medicine from the downed man, who groaned in pain, Finna gave the jar to Knosh. “Have each man dip enough salve to cover his wounds. It will end the bleeding and prevent putrefying. Be mindful as it can—” The man on the ground squealed.

  “Sting.”

  “In your case, it will save your life.”

  Knosh choked on a laugh and after offering the other men the ointment, went to stand next to Finna and spoke so his men couldn’t hear. “The little bastard will live. His name is Tood and I shouldn’t have left you alone with him. The women in our village shun him now know why.”

  She introduced herself. “I am a guest of the one who lives in the keep. Are you the leader of the Torg?”

  “You are with Leeth?” His brows furrowed. “He is our long-time friend, but I am confused by your question. The Torg are all people who live on the planet, but we call ourselves The People. We are civilized and live in the valleys near running waters. We defend this forest from the other Torg who we call the wild ones. They live in the mountains several leagues away and they raid our villages taking all they can, including our women and children. I think Leeth planned for you to fight them as part of your training exercise.

  Why did he know of her training when she had just learned of it herself? She pointed to the men treating their wounds. “These men, are they part of your army?”

  “Everyone in our community fights our e
nemy. I’m trying to instruct this group how to fight and survive.” He stepped back and looked at her from toe to nose. “I think you could teach them a few things, yes?”

  “If my host allows it.”

 

 

 

  She knew quite well what she wanted never influenced what Leeth did. She turned to her companion. He looked, not quite civilized with his longish beard and long tangled hair, yet he was handsome in a dark hairy sort of way.

  “I would be glad to help if I can. In what direction do we travel and how far is it to your village?”

  Knosh twitched his chin toward the left path. “That way, less than two leagues. Not far.”

  A strange foreboding filled her and she frowned.

 

 

 

  ‘Settle my work with Jamal.’ What did that mean?

 

 

 

  Leeth’s words conveyed urgency and she took off running in the direction Knosh had indicated. “The wild ones are attacking your village. Hurry.”

  Leeth was right. The men she shot had healed and they followed close behind her. Although she often ran miles just for pleasure, her heart pounded and her lungs struggled for air. What was the matter with her? She felt embarrassingly weak and willed her burning legs not to collapse. All the while, impressions of trouble jammed her mind and she pushed herself to keep moving.

  Drawing in as much air as she could, she prayed she had the stamina to fight. She’d not seen Knosh in combat and she hoped he would prove himself strong. He would need to be.

  “Trouble ahead, Knosh. How do you want to approach the village?”

  “We cross the footbridge shoulder-to-shoulder and stay on the path to the left.”

  “What weapons will we face?” the noise of her labored breathing filled her ears, yet Knosh gave no indication that he’d even been running. The man had stamina, that was sure.

  “They throw and hit.”

  “No arrows?”

  “Not usually in close quarters.”

  “No swords or knives?”

  “Just throwing and hitting. They are very strong. Don’t let one get an arm around you.”

  “Stronger than you? What about speed?”

  “Not so fast, but they are clever. Smart.”

  She inhaled deeply to ask, “How far is the village?”

  He waved his hand toward a second footbridge. “Close.”

  The path followed the river upstream. The many turns through thick shrubs and trees didn’t provide space for an advanced warning of someone about to jump out at them. Leeth interrupted her thinking.

  < Around the next bend, stop to relieve yourself behind the large black tree.>

 

 

 

 

  < You are completely mad? I’m headed for battle. You told me to fight and I’m ready.>

 

  When they rounded the turn and a huge black tree filled the landscape, she wanted to disobey the directive with all her heart. As if he knew her thoughts, his command rang sharp in her head.

  Startled, she obeyed then felt like a fool.

  “Hold, Knosh, I must pass water.”

  He stopped without making judgment. “Very well. We’ll need a minute for the men to catch up.”

  Stepping over the decomposing remains of a fallen tree, she swore under her breath. Stopping to pee on the way to a good battle when you don’t have to go was about the dumbest most embarrassing thing she could imagine. She hid behind the tree and leaned against the black trunk with one hand and slapped it with the other.

  Damn the man.

  She pulled her hand back for one more hit when the tree switched to stone. How had she to gotten to the sarding keep and courtyard?

  Finna shouted in frustration. “God’s Bones, Seeker. I’ll never get used to your freaking magic.”

  “Yes, you will.” Leeth’s voice softened. “I promise.” When you’re ready, and I mean ready to take on the wild ones and survive, then and only then will you return to the black tree and complete the passing of your water before joining Knosh on his mission.”

  She knew it. Leeth wasn’t quite right in the head. She’d suspected it all along. “That sounds like time travel, Lackwit. People do not travel in time.

  “Some do and you are now among them.”

  39

  The Ambush

  Time to Time Travel

  Finna looked about. The keep had undergone repairs and had she not been trained as her father’s apprentice, they might have gone unnoticed.

  “Finna, you’re just in time for training.”

  “Jamal?”

  From over the wall, Leeth’s command followed. “Hurry, we need to get on with it. There’s much to do.”

  “What about the village and the savage wild ones? Knosh needs me.”

  Jamal said, “Different training now. You did well on the last one, but it’s time to move on.”

  “What the sarding hell do you—”

  “Come o-o-on, Finna,” Jamal pleaded. He appeared through an arch that wasn’t there when she left to get water a few hours ago. “There’s a clearing over here and I’ve been training with Leeth for three weeks. He’s really good.”

  “Explain how—”

  But the boy had taken off. She followed him to a training ground resembling the area the squires used for practice in the tournament in Vézelay. Leeth, flanked by two heavily muscled men carrying large hammers, unfolded his arms and beckoned to her. “Come, I think this new game will please you.”

  She recaptured her anger when his white teeth flashed in a smile. “You took me away from a perfectly good fight to spar with blacksmiths? And why does Jamal thinking he’s been training for three weeks?”

  Leeth put both hands behind him and shuffled his feet. “Actually, it’s been four.”

  “What?”

  “It’s been four weeks of training. I worked him very hard the first two days. He must have miscounted.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She stepped as close to his face as she dared. “What’s the matter with you? You tell me I have to fight the Torg, but Knosh tells me only the wild ones are the bad ones. Then they prove how bad they are and you remove me. You said I was supposed to gain respect. How’s that supposed to happen now? How many days will you keep me from helping Knosh fight the wild ones. I think he needs me.”

  “You aren’t yet good enough”

  “What? You saw me defeat six men.”

  “You were lucky. You are not yet a competent warrior on this world.”

  “What the sarding hell are you talking about? This world? I have done everything you told me to do, including going behind a tree to relieve myself, for god’s sake. Knosh will think I ran like a degenerate coward. He’ll never speak to me again. Show me some respect, dammit. I’m an agent for the Queen of France.”

  Leeth’s voice took on a tone she’d not heard before. “The Queen of France,” he sneered. “I remind you that your queen rules a sarding country. Not even a continent. I, Leeth, am Lord of this entire world.”

  Finna squeezed her fingers into tight fists and was far too angry to be impressed. “Yes, my lord, Sir Seeker. Are you saying you want respect?”

  “And I don’t have the time for your hysterics or to explain quantum
physics.” He turned away and pulled his hood over his head.

  “No matter how strange your actions, Sir Seeker, I gave my word, my word as a crusader, to help Knosh. It was after you said I could. Damnation, in fact, you told me I should. And what is this physics thing? Don’t talk gibberish to me.”

  “I’m talking about time travel. Get off your damn high horse. You will help Knosh fight the ones who attack his village, but you have to train more, first. I told you once, you must fight and survive. You will have your chance to help Knosh.”

  Time travel. Again? What Leeth said was preposterous. “You are telling me he won’t even know I was gone?” Finna snapped her mouth shut and mentally eviscerated the damn man. She felt like a fool to have given his words enough credence to ask the question out loud. She was finding it hard to swallow. “I could be gone for days?”

  “No more time will pass for him than for any man who has ever waited for his woman to relieve herself in the woods.”

  * * *

  Finna’s the run up the gentle slope was much longer than the distance she’d run with Knosh. “How much farther to the top of this mountain, Jamal?”

  “We’re about halfway, but it isn’t a mountain. It’s a mere hill. There are no mountains on Torg.”

  She shook her hands, trying to get more circulation going. God’s Bones. She thought she’d be completely recovered by now. Jamal’s long, comfortable strides began to annoy her.

  “Are you ill?” he asked.

  “With all the medicine Sir Seeker poked in my mouth, how could I be?”

  “He’s only trying to help you.” With no apparent effort, he leaped over a low flat rock covering the path. “In a few more weeks you’ll be in shape. This planet’s slightly larger than Earth and that’s why you feel slower . . . heavier . . . you know.”