I read the description, ‘The Scavenger is not a battle unit, but used only for recognisance and retrieval. As is evident in the illustration on the previous page, this is one of the Twisted Ones. These poor souls thought that death had brought them their final rest. They are bound to him in death after serving him, often by coercion, in life. They work in stealth and have only rarely been discovered, although often the smell they leave behind is evidence enough of their passage. They will not attack first. If discovered they will attempt to flee, but when cornered or attacked, they will defend. Although strong, they are slow moving and easily killed. Note: beware that an injury sure to be fatal to humans, may only slow it down, therefore, decapitation is the recommended method of eradication.’
I looked up to find Brant with raised eyebrows slowly shaking his head. “This is a book of nightmares. Surely not all these…things, are out there somewhere?”
I sighed heavily. “I think they are. Or, at least I think they are all reappearing somehow. I don’t know where they have been hiding so that no one knows about them, but I know they are all coming back.”
He continued to shake his head as if he simply could not believe that. “They told me of Rakadamon and his servants, but I was told all knowledge of them had been lost.”
I nodded. “Rakadamon tried to wipe out any memory and any trace of information, but this Book survived.”
I started paging through again, but we did not find any illustration to match the creatures that had attacked us. I paged back to the descriptions of creatures that had no illustrations, but again came up with nothing. Brant looked a question at me. “Does this mean that tonight’s attack was completely unrelated to the bigger picture here?”
I frowned thinking it over. “I think we cannot be sure about that, but what that means then is that we cannot accept this Book as complete. There may yet be things lurking out there that we have no idea about.” I carefully stowed the Book back into my bag, shivering at that thought.
We dragged the bodies of our attackers away from where we were sitting. The night had cleared some and in the dim moonlight, I could see Balder and Teeka some way off. I made my way over and brought them back. They became a bit nervous as we drew closer to our haphazard camp, but a few soothing words soon calmed them down again.
We sat on the stone again with our backs together and thanks to the exhaustion that came from fighting off killer animals, managed to get some fitful sleep in this way. Much too soon though the sun rose bright over the horizon. Brant complained when I moved away. I winced as pain flared all over my body. Dragging myself up, I made sure all my belongings were back into my bags. I grimaced with the slight effort of unhobbling the horses and mounting. Brant was clenching his teeth against his own pain.
The day passed in a haze of exhaustion and pain. We stopped frequently to rest. We ate as we rode, hardly tasting the cheese and bread. As we travelled along, the landscape slowly changed as well. We passed the occasional tree, small gnarled looking things. I was relieved when we stopped once more to realise that we were now in the shadow of the looming mountains. The road stretched on as far as the eye could see, but I wondered how difficult the mountain pass would be. We pushed on until we were falling asleep in the saddle.
This night we did not even bother with a fire, simply eating some dried meat and I shared a bruised and slightly shrivelled apple with Brant. I called Markai and she appeared in a heartbeat, obviously fearing that we had been attacked again. As usual, we drew lots to decide the watch. He drew the short twig and so took the first watch. Gratefully I sank onto my bedding and was asleep within moments with Markai curled up against my back.
The warm sun woke me the next morning. I saw Brant half on and half off his bedding, clearly having fallen asleep during his watch. I looked around anxiously for any signs of intruders during the night, but Markai reassured me that there had been no one. I dug out another apple from my pack and sat with my eyes closed while eating. I heard Brant stirring. He jerked up. “No, no! I did not mean to sleep. I was simply closing my eyes for a few minutes.” He scowled at himself.
I held a hand up. “No harm done. I probably would have fallen asleep as well had I taken first watch.”
His scowl only darkened. “Anything could have killed us in our sleep. Careless!” He hissed, shaking his head angrily. I let him be.
After a few hours of riding at a brisk pace, we came upon a small stream and were all too glad to be clean and shaved again. I caught him looking at the brand on my chest a few times. I wondered what thoughts were passing behind his dark eyes at these times. The horses had a long drink and we refilled our water skins. Markai had disappeared again sometime during the morning. Refreshed, we set off.
I looked at the map as we rode along and for the first time noticed that we were not actually passing over the mountain. The road divided with one branch going over the mountain and the other snaking along its base. I was actually relieved. Master Haer had told us stories of crossing the Hewel Mountains. Apparently, temperatures can vary greatly with some nights dipping below freezing point. I shivered.
We were coming around a bend in the road when we came upon a gleeman standing by his wagon. The wagon was teetering to one side with a broken wheel. A man in a long red coat with multi-coloured tassels along the hem jumped up when he saw us approaching.
His eyes went wide with surprise and quicker than the eye could follow, the fellow had whipped out a knife. Nervously, his eyes flickered between me, my sword, and Brant and his dagger. There were also two women hiding behind the man.
I put both my hands in the air to show we were not a threat. “We mean you no harm, gleeman.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he slowly lowered the knife. He did not, however put it away. “Where are you travelling to?”
I smiled reassuringly. “We travel from Predaki and we are headed to Medirea.”
He nodded. He slid his knife in behind his belt, but still kept a hand on the hilt. “Medirea is where we travel to also. We have had some trouble with ruffians on the road so you will excuse my caution.” He said it as a statement not a question. The women slowly stood up behind them. They wore plain dresses. They looked as if they could be mother and daughter.
The elder of the two had a protective hand on the younger’s shoulder, who looked to have seen around 12 cycles of the season. She had the expression of a scared rabbit.
“I am surprised to hear of your trouble on the road. I thought this area was usually quite safe.”
He nodded. “Ah, it was. Times are changing though.” He paused briefly, giving us measuring looks. “I am Nassarit and this is my wife, Harrit and my daughter, Mai.” He gave a small bow and the women gave curtsies.
I bowed in return, saying, “I am Kadin Aken and this is Brant Almeer.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him give such a small bow that it almost seemed a nod. “I assume it was the trouble makers who did this to your wagon?”
He scowled darkly. “And only a day outside Medirea. I thought of walking the rest of the way to fetch supplies, but I did not want to leave Harrit and Mai unprotected seeing as they very nearly carried Mai off the last time.”
I nodded. I saw Mai hunch in upon herself as if trying to hide. “May I have a look at the wheel?”
He gave me a disdainful smile. “You may, but do you not think having travelled all my life, I know how to fix my own wagon?”
My temper flared at his tone, but I said, “I am sure you are fully capable, but perhaps we carry the tool you require to repair it.”
He shook his head. “Doubtful.” I ignored his remark and knelt down beside the broken wheel. Brant was standing tight lipped behind me. I was surprised at his silence, although I was sure that had some of the gleeman’s remarks been directed at him, he would not have refrained from rebuking him.
The rim of the wheel was broken with a piece missing as well as two of the spokes. The gleeman came to look over my shoulder. “A broken spoke is no probl
em to fix, but the rim…”
I knew what the problem was. As a temporary fix, he could have replaced the spokes with some stout wood if there were some to be found, but for the rim, it needed to be the right curvature. This required either unbelievable luck in finding a piece that was just right, or having to bend a length of wood after heating it over a fire. No mean feat. I put as much conviction into my voice as I could muster and said, “I will have a look for a replacement piece for the rim.” I strode off before he could make some sort of disparaging remark.
Brant stared after me in disbelief for a moment before following me. I was ready to rebuff any comments from him, but he simply followed in silence.
After some searching, I found what I was looking for. The stick was about the right thickness. I pulled out my waterskin and poured a liberal dose over it.
I sat down, holding it in both hands and focused my Navitas on it. I became aware of every groove and grain along the wood and of the forces holding it together. Blue mist started floating from my fingertips and around the stick, covering it completely.
I closed my eyes and stretched out my awareness searching for any heat energy sources. They were bountiful for every blade of grass every stone every leaf of every tree had been warmed by the sun this day.
I extracted small amounts of energy from each. Not enough to affect the sources, but added together, it was like holding a flame in my hand. I first heated the water on the surface of the wood and used the heat energy to force the water into the structure of the timber. Then I pushed the heat into the wood, weakening the bonds that held it together. While these bonds were weakened, I slowly bent it into the desired shape and held it there before then releasing the remaining heat.
I opened my eyes to see tendrils of the mist creeping back to me. I smiled, satisfied with the result. I looked up and saw that Brant had been watching intently.
He had something very close to admiration in his eyes, but he said, “You are a fool and we are wasting our time with these people. I shook my head and walked back to the gleeman’s wagon.
When he saw what I was holding, his eyebrows rose and his mouth opened in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally saying, “Where did you get that? I have searched this whole area and did not find anything close to what we need.”
I shrugged. “Just lucky I suppose. Let’s see if it fits.” I held out the now half circle shaped wood to him.
It was a little too big, but the gleeman quickly trimmed the size down and hammered together the pieces. When he was done, he had a wide grin on his face. “I owe you a drink when we reach Medirea. I do not know how you did it, but thank you.”
The women gathered all their belongings and climbed into the back of the wagon. Nassarit jumped up on the driver’s seat and we set off together. I rode next to the gleeman chatting about small things. Brant stubbornly rode out in front. I wondered at his behaviour, but let him be.
He regaled me of tales from his travelling. He cheerily told me about visiting a lively town called Granidea in the east where they held a festival to celebrate anything and everything from birthdays to marriages to pregnancies. A good town for a gleeman to visit. “I made a whole three months’ wages in the three weeks I was there.”
I smiled. “Why did you only stay for three weeks?”
His mouth pulled down at the corners. “Even a gleeman needs rest and there is no rest to be had in Granidea. Had it been only me on my own perhaps I could have stayed a bit longer, but with the wife and daughter along...” He shook his head. “It was time to go.”
He told me of their time travelling. It sounded as though this was not the first trouble they had run into, although it was the most serious. Previously, the worst that had happened were thieves coming in the night. Stealing a pouch of money and some food from the wagon.
The gleeman frowned over worried eyes. “I have spoken to some other travellers. They told me stories of not only robbers on the road, but that these criminals do not shy away from violence. And in some cases become violent without any provocation.” He grimaced. “I did not believe these tales. At least, I was sure that the stories had been somewhat exaggerated. That was until it happened to us.”
He shivered and his hands went tight on the reins. “It was sheer luck that saved us. I fought them off as best I could, but I knew that I could not win against the two of them. One was keeping me busy while the other had gone for Mai. He was heaving her over his shoulder when all of a sudden he dropped her like a bag of potatoes. It was the strangest thing. They both stopped what they were doing, almost as though they had forgotten what they had been doing the moment before. If I had been a different type of man I could have killed them both before they started moving again. They just stood there. Their eyes were empty. Just as suddenly, they got on their horses and galloped away. Tell you what, that there gave me the chills.”
I chewed over what he had told me. What could that have been? To make determined criminals stop in their tracks and leave people that were ripe for the picking. I wondered if this had something to do with Rakadamon and his followers. I shook my head and dismissed the thought. I simply did not know enough to make that assumption and I could not go looking for the Dark Master in every shadow. I filed the information away. If I heard any more such tales then perhaps I should pay it more mind.
I steered the conversation back to lighter topics and soon the gleeman was again wearing a broad smile and enthusiastically telling me of the last town they had visited. They had nearly caused a town wide argument when he had sang a cheeky song about a long forgotten affair between the farmer’s daughter and the mayor’s son. Apparently, it was not long forgotten and the song had dug up the hatchet. They had made a speedy exit after that. He laughed softly to himself.
That night we all camped together. Harrit cooked a stew for us. It was much better fare than what we had been cooking. I even helped myself to a second portion and got a broad smile from Harrit. Mai was still very nervous and had not said a single word within our hearing.
During the evening, I took out my sketchpad and drew the human-like creatures that had attacked us. I tried to put as much detail into it as possible. I drew a separate sketch of the retractable claw that I had a look at. I was careful not to let the strangers see my drawings. Nassarit mumbled softly about eccentric artists and I was happy to let him believe that was all there was to it.
Nassarit took a watch as well, which meant more sleep which I was grateful for. The women slept in the wagon, but he joined Brant and me outside. We sat around the fire talking long into the night with Brant even warming up a bit and joining in. The gleeman also treated us to some music, playing his flute. It turned out to be the most enjoyable evening I had spent since leaving Predaki.
We were travelling again early the next day. The wagon meant that our progress was a bit slower, but I was enjoying the company enough not to mind. I was well pleased that the wheel seemed to be holding up very well.
The sun had reached its zenith when Medirea came into view. We passed crop fields along the road. Row upon golden row of corn stood soaking up the midday heat. There were workers in the field, filling their baskets. They did not even look up when we passed by.
As we entered the town proper, I stared at the buildings. They were made of large light coloured stones the like of which I had never seen before. Nassarit informed me that the stone was called sandstone and commonly used in many towns and cities. I thought it was beautiful. The roofs were nearly level with only a slight incline to drain rainwater. The streets were wide and clean and bustling with people going about their business.
We walked through a market area with stall keepers calling out what wares they had for sale. This was the biggest town I had ever been to. Everything looked different and exciting, but when my thoughts turned to the reason for coming here, it made me worry. In this whole town, how was I to find someone without having the faintest idea of who they may be?
Nass
arit pointed to a building across the road. “That is the Rose Inn. It has the best ale in town and the beds aint half bad either. We have already made our arrangements, but I will come by and buy you that drink tonight.” I smiled and shook his hand. We turned our horses toward the inn.
It quickly became apparent why it was called the Rose inn. There were roses painted everywhere. I even saw one on the stable door when handing over Balder. We were met by a slender woman of middle years when we walked in. She was quite pretty, but not a beauty. Her large eyes gave us an appraising look, but what she concluded was hidden by a smooth expression and a smile showing gleaming white teeth.
She wore a rose in her hair and she touched it subconsciously as she greeted us. “Good sirs. I am Rose, the innkeeper as you may have guessed.” She gave a giggle more suited to a girl still wearing knee high dresses and absently fingered the rose in her hair again. “Will it be one or two rooms for you today?” She raised one eyebrow quizzically and had a light mocking smile on her face.
I thought it a strange question, but told her we needed two rooms. Already I started disliking her. She gave a small curtsy and snapped her fingers in the air. A lanky young lad came scurrying out from one of the back rooms.
His gaze was cast down to the floor and his mouth pulled down at the corners. “Das, show these good men to their rooms please. Two rooms mind.” She snapped her fingers again making Das jump as if he had been struck. He took our bags from us, insisting when I tried to refuse. He struggled slightly going up the stairs with his heavy load, but again declined when I tried to take my bags from him. He led us to our rooms carefully setting our bags down.
I offered him a copper for his trouble, but he refused. I had not stayed at many inns in my life, but this seemed rather odd to me. I shrugged. “Thank you, Das.” He gave a tight nod and disappeared down the hallway.
Book of Remembrance: The Forgotten Gods: Book One Page 13