The Flame Weaver

by Elicker, Tania

  Chapter 7

  The fire hissed and smoked under the persistent rain until finally being extinguished all together. Kazen, nearly numbed by icy rain and trepidation, stared suspiciously at the two newcomers. The smaller of the two stood silent and motionless beneath a tightly drawn hood, while the other quickly gathered up the daggers.

  “Come, friends,” the man offered in a shallow whisper. “We have shelter.”

  Looking uneasily to Ilagon, Kazen followed without a word as they set out in trail behind the two strangers. The rain began to lighten as they sloshed their way through the sodden forest, all the while, Kazen keeping a cautious eye on these new allies. Trotting almost blindly through the dark woods, it was a welcome sight when they finally came upon a faintly flickering campfire set neatly back within a grove of tall trees.

  A tent of leather pelts, stretched from tree to tree, protected the fire and dried a small spot of ground. Packs and blankets, draped over wooden stakes, hung safe and dry beside the glowing coals, and a small black kettle bubbled tiredly over the last of the struggling flames. Ignoring formalities and proper courtesies, Kazen rushed to the fire’s edge to warm his icy fingers.

  “Well, then,” said the tall stranger. “Seems I’m still having to yank your neck out of the noose.”

  Ilagon spun towards the man, his eyes wide with sudden recognition.

  “Shanks! It cannot be!” He grabbed the man’s shoulders and pulled him into the light of the fire. “By the sun and moon, it is you!” Ilagon laughed with delight and hugged the man tightly, slapping him on the back. “Your ugly face is a welcome sight, my friend!”

  Still shivering, Kazen watched with interest as Ilagon talked excitedly with his newly reunited friend. Beneath a scruffily trimmed beard, the man’s face looked to be about the same age as Ilagon. Tall and lean, his long muscles and gangly physique were disciplined for speed and precision instead of brute strength. Dark brown hair, matted and unkempt, tumbled freely past his shoulders, haphazard braids woven through the thick locks. A hardened scar, running from his forehead and across his left eye, dominated his masculine face. He was clad completely in soft green leather. Neatly tucked into his garb, from his forearms and chest, down to the cuffs of his boots, and gleaming in the light of the fire, were countless daggers and throwing knives and many steel-and-leather-hilted daggers. Two long, leaf-shaped shivs, used for close fighting, Kazen guessed, were sheathed over his shoulders.

  “Come, I want you to meet Kazen.” Ilagon ushered the man over to where Kazen stood.

  “Kazen?” The man looked at Ilagon with astonishment. “Not the same Kazen.”

  Ilagon nodded with a clever grin.

  The man dropped to his knee in front of Kazen and bowed his head. “M’lord, I’m humbly at your service.”

  Kazen looked down at the man in puzzlement.

  “No, no. It’s not like that at all.” Ilagon pulled the man back to his feet.

  The man stood and brushed the mud from his knees. “Ah, good then!” He cleared his throat and turned back to Kazen. “The name is Zaris Wyk, but you may call me Shanks.” His accent was thick and gruff, much like that of the seasonal harvesters who’d often passed through Napis Fare on the way to the plains.

  Kazen shook his hand and smiled genuinely. “Hello, Shanks.”

  Shanks gestured over to the cloaked figure on the other side of the fire. “Now, let me introduce you to my lovely assistant.”

  “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

  Kazen was surprised to hear the feminine voice.

  “Come now, darlin’. Let’s not be rude to our guests.” Shanks winked and gave Kazen a friendly nudge. “Feisty as a hornet, she is, but handy with a stick,” he whispered.

  “It’s not a stick!” she scoffed, pulling the hood from her head. “It’s a staff.”

  Her loosely curled hair fell about her shoulders, the tresses a fiery red. She was dressed in brown suede pants and a green tunic that seemed faded next to her emerald eyes. A blue cloak was tossed casually over her shoulder. Though she was young, like Kazen, and her frame was small, she had strength in her body. Nearly as tall as her, a polished white staff lay comfortably in her right hand. She gave the staff a quick jerk, separating it into two halves, which she gracefully sheathed over her shoulder.

  “And what are you looking at?” She glowered at Kazen.

  Kazen’s face reddened with embarrassment as he stuttered and shook his head.

  Shanks sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “And this enchanting mistress would be my daughter, E’enna.”

  “Adopted daughter,” she added curtly. “And you should introduce me by proper name, E’enna Nah Giel.”

  “Begging your pardon, your highness,” Shanks groaned impatiently.

  E’enna tipped her head tersely to Ilagon and Kazen, then pulled a blanket out from one of her packs and tossed it to Kazen. “Is this a special occasion, or do you always run around in the forest half-naked?” she commented, then tossed her hair and plopped down on the far side of the campfire without another word.

  Kazen was mortified as he was suddenly reminded he was standing there in naught but his tattered rags. No wonder this girl was acting so hostile; she probably thought he was some sort of depraved lunatic.

  Unable to contain his excitement, Ilagon pulled Shanks aside. “You must tell me how it is you have come to be here on this night. How is it that such old friends have come to cross paths in this, the most unlikely of places?”

  “Surely, divine providence has a played a hand in our fortunes this dismal night,” Shanks said, tossing a dry shirt from his own pack to Kazen. “We have been tracking the largest of those foul-smelling beasts for over two weeks. It killed nearly every person in a small village east of here, just beyond the open plains of Dulhir.

  “We pursued the beast for twelve days as it traveled west. We’d gain on it by day as it was forced to cower in the shadows, and lose ground again at night when it was free to move under the cloak of darkness. We thought we would have to give up the chase when perhaps five days ago the beast suddenly changed course and headed north.

  “With no open ground to run, the beast was too big and clumsy to move swiftly through the forest. We quickly closed in on the hound and pitched our camp with the intention of slaying the creature at first light, when it would be most vulnerable. We were just settling in when we heard all the commotion. Figuring some unwary travelers had stumbled upon the beast, we thought we’d lend a hand.”

  Ilagon smiled. “Most timely, indeed.”

  “And what of you, Ilagon? You must tell me how you escaped Fierra Dell, and how you came to be the minder of such noble company. Last I saw you was upon the walls of Graffis.”

  “You are in the Silver Dragons?” Kazen blurted out.

  “Aye.” Shanks chuckled. “You’d be amazed at the riffraff they allow in such a prestigious order.”

  Stuttering once again, Kazen shook his head. “N-no, I just meant that you are not a . . .”

  “A wizard?” Shanks cut in. “Ah, well, they like to keep a few of us lesser beings around to do the foot work.”

  “Do not listen to him, Kazen,” Ilagon said. “Shanks was our highest-ranked General. Men and wizards stand side by side in our order.”

  “Aye, this is true,” Shanks admitted. “But long has it been since I have seen a familiar face. For many years I feared I was the last. Tell me, Ilagon, have you heard news of Greytok?”

  Ilagon lowered his head, sadly. “It was Greytok who gave his life that Kazen and I might escape.”

  Stunned, Kazen turned and listened more closely.

  Shanks exhaled heavily. “A most devastating loss.”

  A sudden surge of forgotten images and memories flooded Kazen’s head. Gleaming white walls, men in shining armor, smoke-filled corridors, terrifying drumming sounds, and Ilagon carrying him to safety. This Greytok had somehow made their escape possible. Though Kazen could not remember him, his heart ached for hi
s loss.

  Ilagon and Shanks talked for hours. Kazen tried several times to start a conversation with E’enna, but was unable to think of a single thing to say. He’d always end up just stammering out some nonsense and smiling ridiculously. Occasionally she would smile back impatiently, but mostly she would just roll her eyes and turn away.

  Eventually, Kazen found he could no longer keep his eyes open. He pulled the rough blanket Shanks had given him up to his ears and curled up on the damp ground beside the flickering fire. The dwindling patter of rain on the shallow puddles lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

  It was barely light when Kazen was awakened by an apple tossed squarely on his stomach. The morning was shrouded in a misty haze and the pungent smell of wet leaves and pine needles filled the forest. Everyone else was already up and bustling about.

  “Up ya go then, lad!” Shanks said cheerily.

  Kazen took a bite of his apple and joined Ilagon beside the smoking cinders of the night’s campfire. Shanks was taking down the tent and E’enna was in a small clearing, diligently swinging her quarterstaff about.

  “I don’t think she cares much for our company,” Kazen whispered to Ilagon.

  Ilagon looked up from sharpening his sword. “Indeed. Well, she will have plenty of time to warm up to us over the next few weeks.”

  “They are coming with us?” Kazen sounded more surprised than he actually was.

  “Yes. Shanks has agreed to escort us to Crenin Non.”

  Kazen looked over warily at E’enna, who was swinging her staff viciously over her head.

  “Just try not to get on her bad side.” Ilagon smiled wryly.

  Shaking his head, Kazen whispered back. “I think I would be hard-pressed to find a good side.”

  Ilagon stifled a loud chuckle and patted Kazen on the back. “Come on then, let us help collect the camp.”

  With two new overstuffed satchels on their backs, Kazen and Ilagon set off with their new companions. Talking and laughing loudly, Ilagon and Shanks kept to a quick pace while E’enna and Kazen dragged behind in uncomfortable silence.

  The murky haze lifted as the afternoon sun pierced through the gray clouds, though the still air remained thick and humid. Tangles of brush and thistles gradually gave way to more open ground, and the dense thicket of trees thinned considerably. The ground was soft from the heavy rain and the company soon found themselves splattered and crusted with mud.

  Trailing farther and farther behind the others, Kazen fidgeted uncomfortably in the clothes Shanks had given him. The shirt was tight around the chest, and the pants were too long, the cuffs bunching up beneath the heel of his hand-me-down shoes. The green cloak he had been given was comfortable enough, though it was a bit scratchier than his old one and was maybe a little tight around the neck. But he was thankful for them, nonetheless, for at least now he didn’t feel quite so exposed.

  Quickening his pace, he caught up to the others, though he made a point to stay far enough behind E’enna that he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with her. He was determined that he would not be the first one to initiate any kind of conversation. She had snubbed his efforts last night and he was certainly not about to give her another chance to do so again. They both made a point to look in opposite directions, feigning interest in the passing scenery. The hours passed and the silence became agonizing.

  By the time dusk came upon them, Kazen was eager to stop for the night. He sat by Ilagon and listened with interest to him and Shanks reminisce about their younger years. It seemed that Shanks and Ilagon were quite a pair in their adolescence. The duo, apparently, had somewhat of a reputation and they delighted in chatting about their devious escapades.

  Kazen was going to offer to take first watch that night but since the two men showed no sign of ending their conversation he figured he would let them wake him if they felt the need. He huddled down beside a weathered stump, peering over the fire at E’enna, who sat alone, staring into the dancing flames. In the light of the fire, her young age shined out from under the permanent scowl she wore on her face. She was no older than Kazen, but her eyes seemed to reveal a profound sadness too great for such a young girl to carry.

  Perhaps feeling Kazen’s gaze, she pulled her hood up over her head and turned away from the fire. Kazen began to think that maybe she wasn’t just a spoiled girl with no manners. Maybe, like Kazen, she bore some burden that she did not wish to share with strangers. Tomorrow, he decided, he would try to talk to her again.

  The party set off early again the next day. Like before, Ilagon and Shanks took the lead, with Kazen and E’enna trailing behind. The thick heat and stagnant air were more noticeable that morning and the thinning trees more twisted and stunted. A strange, musty smell lingered in the air, and the sun seemed bleached an unpleasant, pasty white.

  Much of the morning had passed as Kazen loitered behind the rest of the group. He had tried a dozen different ways to start a conversation in his head and all of them seemed painfully trite. Figuring nothing could be worse than traveling another day in silence, he shrugged his heavy pack over his shoulder and hastened to catch up to E’enna.

  Clearing his throat, Kazen blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Certainly is hot today.” He flinched as he heard the pathetic words slip from his lips.

  E’enna rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m flattered, really, but you’re just not my sort.”

  Kazen wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. “Not your sort?” Then a sudden look of astonishment fell over him as he gawked at her. “Of all the conceited—! I was not trying to court you! I was trying to start a pleasant conversation!”

  “Really? Do you always start your conversations by stating the obvious or do you just save that for new acquaintances?”

  Kazen’s face flushed with anger as he fought not to yell. “You are truly something. From the moment I met you, you have acted like a childish imp, but this really does it. If you were not a girl—”

  “You’d what?” E’enna interrupted. “You’d have at me with your sword? Ha! You couldn’t even take down those scrawny hounds without our help.”

  “I do not recall ever asking for your help.” Kazen said, trying to sound equally sarcastic. “We had already killed one of the beasts by the time you interrupted us.”

  “Oh, please!” she scoffed. “Any fool with one good eye could flail a pointed sword around and expect to get a lucky hit in.”

  “And I suppose it takes a special talent to wave around a shiny stick.” Kazen snipped with a mocking grin of his own.

  E’enna became visibly angry at the remark. “It’s a quarterstaff and it takes years of dedication to master! And I have more talent in one freckle than you do in that whole frosted head of yours!”

  “You would not stand a chance against a sword in a duel.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  Kazen stammered for a moment.

  E’enna chortled under her breath. “That’s what I thought, too afraid to go up against a girl.”

  Kazen steamed at the insult. “All right! Have it your way! Tonight we shall have a friendly sparring match to settle it. That is, of course, unless you would like to back down now and save yourself the humiliation.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine!”

  E’enna stormed ahead, leaving Kazen behind to stew in anger. Kicking at the ground, he cursed himself for getting into such a mess. He wondered how things had gone so wrong so fast. How could such a pristine-looking girl be so unpleasant? It was all too infuriating to even think about. He scooped up a handful of pebbles from the ground and flung them at passing trees while he walked.

  The humidity got worse as the day wore on. By the time they stopped to set camp they were all drenched in sweat. The late sun was not particularly hot, but the muggy air made every breath labored and every task more tiresome.

  After supper, E’enna began walking away from the camp. “I think I’m going to stre
tch a bit before bed. Would you care to join me, Kazen?” She peered mockingly over her shoulder.

  Kazen sighed and put down his plate. “Yes, I think I will,” he answered with an unconvincing smile.

  Shanks stroked his beard absently as he watched the pair walk off to a nearby clearing. “Now what do you suppose they’re up to?”

  Ilagon smiled. “Well, provided they do not kill each other, I would imagine they are on their way to becoming fast friends.”

  Shanks laughed and slapped Ilagon on the shoulder. “I guess there’s no better way to get to know someone then to try to take a chunk out of ’em!” He winked, touching his thumb to the scar across his eye.

  Ilagon tried to keep a straight face. “Well, you did have it coming.”

  Both of the men chuckled and went back to their meals.

  Kazen had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he followed E’enna. Sparring with someone to hone your skills was one thing, but sparring to prove who was the better fighter could only lead to trouble. They stopped in the middle of the open field, and E’enna turned to face Kazen. She wore the same smug look on her face she’d had the first time he met her.

  “We don’t have to do this,” Kazen said.

  “Scared already?” she teased, twirling her staff gracefully between her fingers.

  “No. I just don’t want this to end badly.”

  “Either draw your sword or admit defeat and you can go run and hide behind Ilagon.” She tapped her foot impatiently.

  Kazen shook his head slowly and reluctantly pulled his sword from over his shoulder. E’enna smiled devilishly and crouched slightly, passing her quarterstaff from one hand to the other.

  “Are there any rules?” asked Kazen asked.

  “Yes.” She lowered her gaze. “Don’t let me hit you.”

  And with that, she lunged at Kazen, who was barely able to parry the surprise attack. The burnished quarterstaff flickered in the late sun as she whirled it about with shocking agility. A low humming sound emanated from the weapon as she twirled it from side to side with incredible speed. Her eyes were fixed on Kazen’s, never wavering as she circled around him.