The Key of Creation: Book 02 - Journey to Khodara

by M. D. Bushnell

  And then she did the craziest thing she had ever done. Every bit of her training as a warrior and protector for her tribe screamed against what she was doing. She had to force her body to move, but somewhere down inside she knew it was the right thing to do.

  She slowly lowered her bone bow, until it hung loosely at her side. She let down her guard, and reached out to the curious animals with her mind, and her feelings.

  “Go,” was all she could manage to say, her throat choked with emotion.

  Beyond all expectations, it was enough. The gorg’gron seemed to understand. If she had not known better, she would have thought they almost bowed to her, before turning and trotting off into the darkness of the cool desert night.

  Once they had gone, she collapsed to the ground, her knees trembling. Never before in her life had she experienced something so amazing, so intense. She had wanted the beasts to stop their attack and they had. She had told them to go, and they had. There was no explanation for the strange behavior of the normally vicious predators, and yet it had happened.

  Exhausted, she climbed into her tent and immediately fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

  The following morning she awoke rested and refreshed. Recalling the events of the previous night before, she marveled once more at the strangeness of what had happened. She knew that there was more at work here than coincidence; something significant had occurred the night before. She might not realize all the ramifications of those events yet, but somehow she knew it had been very important.

  Still, she could not waste the day in idle speculation. She had to get to Ae’lax Andretta before her food and water ran out, so that she could get on with the business of finding the ‘lost prince’ that her dream vision had spoken of. She did not know how she was going to find this man, other than the Ae’roya Jost having hinted at a great city, possibly to the north. But she clearly would not find him here in the desert.

  The day grew unbearably hot as she traveled, and Aelianna was eventually forced to take shelter under a rock overhang, which she had been fortunate enough to find. Full summer had arrived, and she would no longer be able to travel during the extreme heat of the day.

  She sat in the shade, sweating and cursing the heat. Her light, cured-leather armor was well suited for protection, but in this heat it had little in the way of ventilation or comfort. She could feel the sweat on her body, trapped within her clothing. She needed a bath. Unfortunately, she was not likely to find anything remotely close to a bath until she reached Ae’lax Andretta, still several days journey ahead. There were no open sources of water to be found in these parts, and she had been trained against the hazards of mirages.

  She forged ahead once the sun had dipped towards the horizon, and the heat had lessened enough for her bor’asin to continue. They trudged along the rocky, barren landscape that way for another two days, hiding from the bludgeoning sun under makeshift shelters during the height of the day.

  On the third day, she leaned back against a shaded rock tucked in against a cliff and closed her eyes. She was exhausted from the arduous journey, and she immediately fell asleep.

  She awoke to the baying of her scared bor’asin, and blinked her eyes in confusion. She caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of her impromptu camp, and realized with a start that she had fallen asleep. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her bow and dashed to the wagon. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized that her sack of dried meat and rations was gone. She could just make out a dark figure running away and launched a hasty arrow after the thief, but it fell short in the shimmering haze of the scorching desert.

  Cursing herself for her inattention, she tried running after the figure, but she quickly realized it was too late and returned to the wagon. With almost no food, she would need to conserve every ounce of strength now. At least she had taken the canteen with her precious water out of the wagon. It would have to do until she was able to do some hunting. She thought wistfully of the family of moush’rin she had so graciously spared. They would probably taste pretty good right now.

  She set out at sunset, after feeding her animal a bit of grain left in the back of the wagon. She felt a pang of hunger, but she knew she needed to save what little she had left for the bor’asin. Without him, this journey would become almost impossible.

  She found no game the rest of that day or the following one, and the complaining in her stomach became much more pronounced. By the time the sweltering heat forced her to stop, her vision had become hazy and she felt as if she could barely stand. She slumped under a shaded overhang. Her thoughts swam in a miasma of turmoil, and hunger pierced her like a knife.

  She struggled to stay awake, but her mind wandered across a barren desert of confusion. She blinked, trying to will her eyes to stay open, as she had willed the gorg’gron not to attack. She slumped back and thought of her childhood pet once more, a smile coming to her chapped lips. Roxin had been its name. How had she forgotten that name?

  She heard a strange howling bark. The sound was familiar, and gave her no reason to be afraid. She looked up and saw a blurry figure approaching through the shifting haze of the rocky desert. No, there were two figures, but one was short and walked on all fours. The animal barked again at her in recognition. It was Roxin!

  The human figure wavered, but came closer, and she thought he looked familiar. Was it Pasha? How could her dead brother and childhood pet be here now?

  The figure placed some food in front of her, a piece of desert fruit perhaps, and asked her to eat.

  “Pasha? Is that you?” She croaked in her native tongue, struggling to get the words out. “What are you doing here?”

  “We brought food, little sister. Eat.”

  “But you are no longer of this world. Either of you.”

  “What is this world you speak of Aelli?”

  She smiled at the nickname that only her departed brother had ever used. Roxin approached her and rubbed its snout on her face, giving her a lick. As if by magic, she opened her eyes and sat up with a start.

  Rather than her brother and Roxin, she was startled to see two wild gorg’gron in front of her. Whether they were from the pack she had confronted several nights earlier or not, she could not say. She felt wetness on her mouth, and when she touched it, she saw blood staining her hand.

  Panic set in. Were these creatures here to finish the job? Had they already bitten her, and she could not feel the pain because of delusion and exhaustion? Where was her bor’asin? Had they devoured her poor animal already?

  And yet, she could see the gorg’gron were not attacking her, instead they only gazed at her with concern. One approached her with a piece of torn flesh in its mouth. Before she could react, the creature shoved the meat into her mouth and quickly backed away, putting a safe distance between them before sitting back on its hind legs. Without thinking, she began to chew the raw meat. So hungry had she become that she hardly noticed the taste of the bloody, uncooked piece of meat, and with every bite she felt more revived.

  Apparently satisfied, the two animals backed away and howled. The cry sounded to her like a benediction. They turned and trotted away.

  She finished the piece of meat, eating voraciously. Once she was done, she rested for a while as her strength returned. After a short time, she looked around and saw the remains of the carcass they had left for her, a short distance away. She had nearly killed these creatures, considering them dangerous enemies as all her people did, but they had saved her life. These strange gorg’gron, dangerous predators of the desert, were now her greatest allies. She owed them her life.

  She could not imagine how any of this was possible. She contemplated the mysterious event as she started a fire and cooked the remaining meat they had left for her. She ate a bit more, before packing the rest away for later and preparing the wagon to depart. She needed a bath now more than ever, but her belly was full, and she surmised that she had enough meat now to make it to Ae’lax Andretta.

  Anothe
r two days of travel brought her to the edge of the fertile valley surrounding the capital city of Kemett. The only major city in a land of nomadic tribes, this port on the great Tianna River served as both the primary supply hub of the area and the focal point for trade with other nations.

  A refreshing breeze from the direction of the river provided both a brief respite from the baking heat of the desert behind her, as well as to remind her that she had not had a bath in several days. She wrinkled her nose at her own smell. A warrior she might be, but she was not normally one to ignore proper hygiene and cleanliness.

  She came across a cool bubbling stream, come down from the mountains to the distant north, and stopped to take a long draught. She followed it for a ways down into the valley, until she came to a place where it had formed a small pool. The swirling oasis was not in a place that was particularly hidden from the view of anyone who might happen to pass by on the way to the capital city, but she was so sweat-covered and grimy that she simply no longer cared about decorum.

  The slight breeze from the river produced tiny bumps on her skin as she stripped off her soiled leather armor. She took the bands out her hair and shook out her ponytail, letting her long hair flutter freely in the breeze. She knelt down and splashed water on her face, enjoying the cool feeling on her skin. Bracing herself, she jumped into the pool, gasping as the cool water abruptly enveloped her naked body.

  Using sand, she scrubbed her skin to clean off the dirt and grime accumulated from her long journey. The sensation was rapturous after what she had been through.

  So absorbed was she in the ecstasy of the cool, refreshing water, that she failed to hear the approach of a group of men passing through the valley. She only became aware of their presence when a couple of them began making rude noises in her direction.

  She whirled, dropping further into the water in an attempt to cover her nakedness. A wild group of four men, barbarians from the southeast from the look of them, were approaching her pool, leering and calling to her in their own language. She only knew a few words in their tongue, so she did not understand much of what they said, but the few words she did recognize, she did not like very much. From their leers and obscene gestures however, she would not have needed to speak their language to interpret their intent. Clearly, they did not mean her well.

  The images shown her by the shaman during her Ae’roya Jost had not prepared her for the obstacles she had encountered so far on her journey. She sighed in frustration; she was not in the mood for this. An impossible hope sprang into her mind that these men might be satisfied with a quick look at the naked woman, and then be on their way. As soon as the thought came to her however, she squashed it with a frown. There was no hesitancy in the approach of these men; they meant to do more than look.

  She sneaked a peek at her bow, half-hidden behind a russet hued rock. To successfully defeat all of them, she would need a diversion; they were too close now to take them all with the bow. She blushed as the only diversion available to her came to mind, but what choice did she have?

  Without bothering to cover herself at all, she stood up out of the pool and sauntered gracefully out towards the rock. The barbarians came to a halt, their eyes widening and their mouths stretching into wide grins. They devoured her body with their eyes like a man dying of thirst would fresh water.

  She bent flirtatiously near the rock concealing her bow. The men started forward, believing her erotic advances to be their lucky day. In one fluid motion she grabbed her bow and knocked a loose arrow she always kept at the ready for just such an emergency. She spun towards the approaching men, whose grins faded as soon as they saw her weapon.

  The closest man leapt towards her with a scowl, but slammed hard into the ground with an arrow buried deep in his eye socket. The next two yanked barbed daggers from their belts and rushed forward with a yell. The lust that had clouded their eyes was gone, replaced by a gleam of rage and murder.

  With no time to fetch another arrow, Aelianna tossed down her bow and grabbed a pair of gleaming daggers that lay propped up against the rock. She darted low between the two screaming barbarians; taking cuts from their daggers on both sides of her body. She grimaced at the sudden sharp pain from the wounds. The men tried to turn, caught off-guard by her quick movement, but the warrior was already there behind them. She slammed her daggers into each of them simultaneously, grunting at the effort. As they went down screaming in pain, she yanked the blades free and quickly cut their throats.

  The fourth attacker grabbed her from behind, but made the mistake of trying to grab and fondle her exposed flesh rather than subdue her first. She had dropped one of her blood-soaked daggers after dispatching the last attacker, but with one still in hand, Aelianna quickly ended his attempt to grope her, permanently.

  Aelianna grimaced again as sharp pain from the cuts on her sides flared. She dropped her remaining dagger into the sandy dirt, still dripping with the blood of her unfortunate attackers. She stumbled back to the refreshing pool and slipped back into the water with a curse. Gasping at the pain, she worked quickly to wash out the cuts. When she was done, she climbed back out again and retrieved bandages from the wagon, applying them to the wounds.

  She realized as she dressed that she should be thankful to be alive, but she was still angry. Angry at the stupid barbarians for attacking her, angry at the shaman for calling her to the Ae’roya Jost and setting her on this dangerous journey, and she was especially angry at the ‘lost prince’ for needing her help with the Clavis in the first place.

  With an especially wicked curse, she climbed back into the wagon and set off for Ae’lax Andretta, leaving the bodies of the barbarians to rot in the desert sun where they belonged. With any luck the gorg’gron would find the remains, a small repayment for their aid to her.

  ***

  Garrick sat with his mouth open, as her story ended. After a moment he blinked and muttered, “Wow. No wonder you act like you hate me, if you blame me for all that.”

  “I do not blame you for all these things,” Aelianna corrected. “Only for some.” She spoke seriously, but the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile.

  Garrick grinned. “Oh well then, that’s a relief. What happened after the oasis?”

  Aelianna took a sip of ale. “I search in Ae’lax Andretta, but not find you. I take boat north on river. I search at every port, but these places not right. Until I arrive here. I want sign, and name of inn tell me I find you here some day.”

  “I’m glad the rest of your journey was less…terrifying,” Garrick said with a wink. “But let’s keep those daggers of yours tucked away where they belong, shall we?”

  Chapter 17

  The next morning the newly formed group prepared to leave for their journey north, in search of the mysterious sorcerer Ra’jahankar. Although Garrick had essentially prepaid their stay at The Wayward Prince for several days, they were already trailing the mage and did not wish to fall any further behind than they already had. With no information on which to base their destination other than the map and the word of a thug named Navin, they decided to pursue Ra’jahankar towards Khodara in the hope he and Jahann were in truth one and the same man.

  To follow the mage was something of an all or nothing proposition; if he was indeed Jahann, they had an opportunity to catch the man who had absconded with the artifact, and retrieve it. Yet if he was not, they risked losing the Clavis forever.

  Greta, for all of her counterfeit smiles and mumbled ‘mi’lords’ was clearly anything but upset to see them leave. At least she was so, once she had determined she would receive no further gold from them. She bustled about, helping them prepare for the journey as best she could, short of physically putting them on their horses. The surly innkeeper did make a small effort to give Garrick recompense for his gold in the form of food and ale, much of which Aldrick suspected would have gone to waste by the time she could reopen the inn to the public anyway.

  Yet by the time they were packed and ready to lea
ve they were well supplied, and every available pocket and saddlebag was bulging with foodstuffs.

  It turned out to be providence that they had brought the two half-starved horses they had recovered from the ‘ghosts’ in the Kannes region with them, since with the addition of Dathan and Aelianna to their party they would have been short two mounts. Although the animals were not fully recovered, they appeared more than capable of carrying the newcomers at an easy pace for the next few days.

  Warren and Dathan brought the saddled and laden horses around to the front of the inn. Aldrick was checking his pack and finishing preparations when he noticed Aelianna standing in front of her horse with her hands on her hips, and a quizzical look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I must ride this...beast?” Aelianna asked in an exasperated voice.

  “We have a long way to go.”

  “My people nomad, we not ride beast like this. We use wagon pulled by bor’asin. They like this...horse, but small. But only child, or old one ride Bor’asin. Warrior run, hunt with bow, not ride. Many story say we ride beast long ago, but no more. They not live long in desert.”