Servants and Followers

by Courtney Bowen

  * * * *

  Monika rode off, furious. “I said you might not like it!” Oaka shouted at her.

  “Oaka, don’t provoke or threaten her. She’s been seriously hurt in the past. She nearly died before I first met her.” Basha said. “I think she might’ve been raped.”

  “What? But—you don’t know what she’s—” Oaka shook his head. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He rode off in the opposite direction of where Monika had gone.

  Basha sighed as Fato returned. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, just some squabbling, again,” Basha turned to the falcon. “Where do you fly off to?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Fato flew away again.

  “Everyone keeps secrets,” Basha groaned and followed after Monika. “I’m sorry for that horrible, stupid story my brother told. He shouldn’t have—”

  “Shouldn’t you go after him instead of following me?” Monika said.

  “I don’t want to lose you either.”

  “Why’re you so certain that I’m good company?”

  “You’ve your reason for coming with us. I believe that. You want to protect us—I believe that, too. You saw my new sword, you know what it could do, and I think you know it was responsible for what happened at the warehouse.”

  “I believe you’re right.”

  “Oaka distrusts you when you haven’t revealed everything you know about the sword and yourself, but that’s no excuse for his story. You’ve had a very complicated life, I guess, though you don’t talk about it, and…what happened?”

  “That story did remind me of something horrible that happened to me, but I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “I’m sorry, Monika.”

  “Don’t be. It’s over now, and you’re not to blame,” She rode off. “That man’s dead now because of me.”

  Basha sat there for a moment on top of Talan, and shuddered.

  * * * *

  Basha and Monika returned to where they’d left Oaka to find him standing there, facing them.

  “Monika, I’m sorry for what I said. It’s inexcusable now that I’ve had a chance to think about it. Please accept my condolences and you can hit me if you want if that’ll make you feel better.” He braced himself as Monika dismounted from her horse and strode towards him.

  Basha watched, a little fascinated as Monika glared at Oaka, who flinched and couldn’t meet her eyes. Monika balled up her fist and swung at Oaka, but barely tapped him on the stomach.

  “That’s for making me feel threatened and uncomfortable. Don’t upset me like that again.” Monika turned away. Oaka relaxed a moment, and then she bopped him on the nose. “Whoops.” She smirked.

  Fato laughed and Basha grimaced slightly, yet he almost wanted to chuckle, too.

  “Ow,” Oaka said and winced, checking to see that his nose wasn’t broken. “Hear you loud and clear.”

  Monika stomped off to get away from the boys for a while as Basha walked up to Oaka. “I know you don’t trust her, but Monika has some issues trusting others. Understandable, given what she’s been through. Whatever secrets she might have, she might’ve a good reason for keeping them. I think we should give her some time to relax, and trust us. Then she might be willing to tell us what she knows. Okay?”

  “I guess you’re right, just as long as you’re aware of what’s going on. I thought—well, I thought she was a Follower of Doomba.”

  “Why, on Arria’s good green earth, would you’ve thought that?”

  “I don’t know, they keep secrets and tell lies? And I heard that prophecy stuff about man and beast. I thought that might’ve something to do with Doomba and his Servants and Followers.”

  “Come on, Oaka. I don’t think she’s one of them and why would Doomba have anything to do with my quest?”

  Oaka grunted and shrugged, not entirely certain of the tenuous connections he’d made between Tigora’l, Tau’s Cup, and Doomba. He didn’t want to share such ill-formed conclusions now.

  Basha shook his head, and eventually things settled down. They continued on together, though Oaka kept clear of Monika for now.

  * * * *

  “A small white bear and a big black bear were in the woods, foraging.” Monika said the next day, telling them about a dream she had. “When Tau’s Cup slid past them, they became unsettled.”

  Basha ate his food, a little bit unsettled as well. Monika was the problem when she’d disturbed him, not because she posed a threat, but because he knew so little about her.

  Last night, after everyone had eaten and gone to bed, Basha stirred because of a sweet, sickly scent burning. He rolled over to see Monika crouched by the flames, which she’d reignited, not even moving as she stared into them.

  The flames sort of looked like the colors he’d seen in the Oracle of Mila’s cave when she prophesized. He even heard Monika mumbling in the Old Language, like the Oracle.

  He fell asleep again and woke up this morning thinking it was a bad dream, but now he wasn’t so sure. The experience creeped him out, yet it also fascinated him as he watched her concentrate, riveted in such a trance, and he wondered just how much about Monika he didn’t know, what sort of depths might lie beneath her exterior.

  “The big black bear roared and motioned in the direction that the Cup went,” Monika said now. “The fleas off of his back leapt onto the back of the white bear. However, the white bear only went after the Cup for a short distance before he turned around. The fleas now attacked their old master, the big black bear, in a swarm. The small white bear grew bigger, red eyes gleaming. And that was it, there wasn’t any more.”

  “Not much of a dream. I think you were just replaying in your own mind the arguments we’ve been having.” Oaka winced, remembering.

  “‘Dreams often have a way of truth, if we look so far into them, that we might see the future ahead for us in our sleep.’” That was from ‘A Book of Fay,’ if I recall.”

  “‘A Book of Fay’,” Oaka chuckled. “Prophecies and dreams, and now we’re referencing the Fay! Next thing you know, we might be wishing for the moon to come down.”

  “Oaka, the Fay did exist.” Fato declared.

  “Never figured you for an idealist,” Oaka stared at him in shock. “Or a dreamer. Basha’s the one who would be saying that.”

  “Yes, well, you don’t know the half of it. I believe the Fay did exist, because…well, where would magic have come from?” Fato asked.

  “Magic is—was—it’s a human thing. Maybe it’s from the gods.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s human! What about animals? Unicorns and dragons, don’t tell me magic didn’t create them!”

  “All right, it was magic. It’s a natural thing. But I don’t believe in the Fay because, well, they weren’t natural, were they? Fay were somewhere between gods and humans, right? What’s natural about that? Gods exist if you believe in them, humans and animals definitely exist, but Fay were more of a fancy to me, a wish fulfillment.”

  Fato opened his mouth, but then they heard howls in the distance. “Lowercase wolves?” Oaka asked.

  “No, in the middle of the day? They’re Black Wolves, Hyena Wolves, Wolves uppercase!” Basha exclaimed.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Monika cried, standing up. “Grab everything, and load the horses!”

  * * * *

  Fato had been keeping secrets from his friends, if you could call them friends. They’d ignored him these past couple of days, and throughout this trip.

  Basha had been nice about letting him join up with them, after what had happened to Sir Nickleby and at least listened to Fato sometimes. Fato understood that sometimes grief made people hard.

  Oaka had big problems with trust, which Fato could understand as Oaka apparently had been very upset over the loss of the knight, and Fato might’ve teased him too much. Of course, he wasn’t about to let somebody debase him first without debasing them as well.

  Ah, Monika was a sweet girl, even if she was
secretive and reserved. She petted and scratched him if he landed on the pommel of her saddle and leaned towards her.

  She even took some of the load off him, for besides being the target of Oaka’s dismay for a while, she took over as the main hunter for the group. Now Fato could keep most of his kills instead of sharing.

  But Monika didn’t know what Fato concealed. Fato didn’t carry a vitally imperative message for the king, though it might be of some note. He’d probably relate it to a court orderly who’d deliver it to King Sonnagh.

  Fato just happened to come across the Black Wolves, who’d been resting and then started running off. Against his sane and better judgment, Fato followed to see what had triggered their agitation, if it might be worthy of the king’s notice.

  He became so dangerously curious that he spiraled down to get a closer look. A halted Black Wolf, who seemed not to notice him, caught whiff of something and yelped to alert the pack before he playfully, maliciously snapped at the hovering Fato.

  Half-frightened out of his wits, Fato inadvertently glided away in the same direction as their quarry, thinking they were after him. He glimpsed Black Wolves sprinting round pine trees, howling in gory anticipation, right behind.

  He even passed by a human hurrying to get away from this formidable force, Oaka with his long legs flying, and didn’t make the connection. When he passed over a gap in the forest canopy, he spotted another human directly below him, Basha, and decided to warn him about the danger he’d brought.

  He didn’t see most of what happened next. He flew up high, then realized that he wasn’t being chased and that the boys were the Wolves’ quarry. The rest hadn’t even noticed him.

  He decided to go back down to see if the boys were still alive. Coming down, he spotted the Wolves surrounding and attacking someone lying on the ground. But then they scattered when a puff of smoke or gas billowed up into the air.

  Coughing, Fato avoided that spot, knowing whomever he found there would be dead. He went ahead, and spied on Basha and Oaka crying about the loss of Sir Nickleby and worrying about why the Black Wolves had been chasing after them.

  Fato was concerned, for he’d been carrying not one, but two messages. Over a month ago, Fato had taken off from Old Fort Ca, near Coe Jaja south of Coe Kiki, with his first message. It was from a Major Lupo to a Sir Nickleby in Coe Baba, basically saying, ‘Keep Basha safe,’ amongst other things.

  Fato had stopped at a couple of places along the way, including Coe Aela where he’d received his second message to be delivered to Coe Kiki. But he still had to deliver that first message, so he’d continued north toward Coe Baba, just in time to meet Basha personally.

  Sir Nickleby was dead, he wouldn’t receive his message, but ‘keep Basha safe’ remained lodged in Fato’s head. He also wanted to know more about them, why the Black Wolves were chasing them, so he decided to stay with them, find out more, and help them if he could.

  Because they needed all of the help they could get in their pitiful, weakened state. At least he’d done something noble for once, if not exactly smart, for all of the good it’d done him now.

  He was a royal messenger bird, but he wasn’t the only one. It was hard for him to stand out amidst the flocks of different birds of all shapes and sizes. He might’ve been one of the raptors, able to survive long flights and fend for himself, but he wasn’t the greatest.

  He had dreams about being the noblest bird amongst them, kept by the king of Arria and trusted to deliver the most important messages. What glory that would be for him and his future hatchlings.

  Unfortunately, that meant risking his neck, and the necks of his future hatchlings in turn, by traveling with these bozos now being chased by Black Wolves again. And the second message he’d received at Coe Aela, to be delivered to Coe Kiki after Sir Nickleby’s message, wasn’t meant for the ears of Basha and his friends. But it might’ve been important to them at this point.

  Of the many rules of being a royal messenger bird, rule number twelve was ‘don’t delay with flocks, keep on task.’ Why hadn’t he followed that, instead of traveling with this group?

  * * * *

  As Sir Nickleby went down amid the wave of Black Wolves swarming over and lashing out at him, Nisa caught up just in time. Wearing a gas mask, she threw one of her gas grenades into the pack, choking the animals with its poison and killing them off as she charged into their midst.

  She grabbed Sir Nickleby and jabbed a few of the livelier Wolves with an electric baton as she dragged him out. She lugged him into the forest a short distance away as he cried out in pain, bleeding from numerous wounds.

  Nisa did her best to staunch what she could, grimacing as she couldn’t control what was happening and couldn’t help him. Suddenly she heard a horse approaching and looked up in shock as she recognized its rider.

  “What’re you doing out here?” Nisa asked.

  “Stand aside, please.” Mirari said, dismounting.

  Nisa retreated as Mirari bent down beside Sir Nickleby and laid her hands upon his body, concentrating as hard as she could. Wisps of spirits appeared in the air above their heads as Mirari worked her magic.

  Part Two:

  Coe Aela

  Chapter 8

  Welcome

  We come from all around, we come from every

  Town. We seek food and shelter, warmth and hearth,

  Happiness and safety too. Well, you’re in luck, for you

  Have found it here, Welcome to the Smiling Stallion inn!

  ~ The Smiling Stallion Inn song, Arria

  Iibala raced down the road, not even riding when the horse would only mess her perception up. Somewhere up ahead of her, someone was dying, and she had to stop it.

  She could usually sense a faint trace of death, living so close to the cemetery with the standing stones, but this time it was different. The person wasn’t dead yet, and if she could save them, then the feeling would go away.

  Yet at the same time, she’d been running for two miles, and wound up leaning against a menhir, huffing and puffing. She recoiled in disgust, trembling as the sense of death was growing stronger.

  “Iibala, what’re you doing here?” Sisila asked.

  Iibala turned around, surprised to find the baron’s youngest daughter, her former friend, sitting on top of a rock. “I might ask you the same question.”

  “I was trying to reconcile...have you ever had a strange dream, a vision of sorts? So vivid that you can’t believe it’s not real?”

  “I’ve had dreams of horses and men, some of them intertwined with me.” Iibala smiled wickedly.

  “You’ve been around too many stallions, though I’ve had dreams like that as well, though not with any horses and just Oaka.”

  “Then you don’t have a very good imagination.”

  “Anyway, last night I had a dream unlike any other, which haunted me. Of people standing around an open grave, waiting to lower down an empty coffin. Jawen, Geda, Habala, Lapo, the mayor, my father, even you and I were out here, dressed in black, not far from the grave of Kala, Basha’s mother. I wanted to scream at them to stop.”

  “It’s not unheard of to have such a horrible nightmare, considering my father, your beloved Oaka, and dear, sweet Basha are gone. But my father can protect them, nothing bad will happen.”

  “Do you love Basha?”

  “No, I might be attracted to him, but I’m not in love with him. I was trying to get to him at the Courtship ritual because—well, he’s improved a lot since I dated him. You know what I did to him then?”

  “Dumped him for an older man, laughed in his face.”

  “Right, but Basha has great potential.” Especially as the tiger of light, Iibala thought, but didn’t say. “I wasn’t about to let him go to Jawen without a fight. I didn’t like the idea of Jawen getting any more than she already has, because of her father.”

  “Well, if you’d felt true love for Basha, you would’ve known that means sharing a soul, of sorts.” Sisila face
d the graveyard. “In my dream, I felt that I was in the coffin as well as standing amongst the mourners. I felt my soul connect to Oaka, and I knew where he was, that he was still alive, though in grave danger. He’s still alive and standing right next to me almost three hundred miles away.”

  Iibala opened her mouth, but then they spotted movement from the main road close by, and she knew what it was. “Father!” she cried, running toward the familiar horse with its rider draped across its back.

  She barely noticed the other rider keeping pace alongside as the sense of dying was stronger than ever before, coming from her father. She reached the horse, and examined the barely healed wounds all over his body. Skin and muscle had been torn off in some places, almost revealing bone, and he appeared to be in agony still, a pained expression on his pale face.

  “Is he okay?” Sisila caught up with her.

  “Are you Iibala?” A voice asked, and they looked up at a brown-haired woman in her thirties, as hard as the rocks that surrounded her, riding alongside him.

  They recognized her as Mirari the healer from Coe Ryn, who usually came to Coe Baba during the Plig and Suma months to tend to laborers and fieldhands for extra work. What was she doing here so early and how’d she possibly come across Sir Nickleby when he needed her?

  “Yes, what happened?” Iibala asked.

  “He was attacked by wolves as far as I can tell. I’ve done the best I could, but he needs rest. I’ve brought him back as fast as I safely could.”

  “Iibala?” Sir Nickleby moaned, opening his eyes.

  “I’m here, father,” She grasped his hand as carefully as she could, though he flinched. She didn’t blame him. “Can you come with us back home?” Iibala asked Mirari. “We may need some help getting him inside.”