“Well, I don’t know,” mused Thomas. “He was sure expecting you by yourself, but he didn’t say anything about this pretty woman. Come to think of it he didn’t say anything about this other fella either.”
“Perhaps not, but he won’t mind a couple of visitors. Please, sit down with us Thomas, and I’ll make introductions while we get something to eat. How about you, would you join us or have you already eaten?”
The big man smiled with satisfaction as he took a seat at the table. “Well, now that you mention it, I haven’t had much to eat yet today.”
* * * * * It was nearing noon when the four finally left the small village, bound for the low, yet roughly overgrown mountains beyond Cruz Town. Thomas led them to a rock outcropping outside town where he retrieved the pack of supplies he had brought on his short trip. The group then continued on toward the mountains where Everett had made his home for the past few weeks.
“Everett said you would be coming to him because of some trouble you’re in. I’ve been sharing camp with him for the past couple of weeks, and have seen him do some pretty weird things. This time he did that meditating thing he does, and when he woke up he told me about you, and that you were coming. How does he do that?”
If Big Thomas lived most of his life in the wilds it was understandable that he would not be well informed about the art of magic.
“Everett was being truthful when he said he was a magician, Thomas,” began Michael as they walked into the mountains. “He was my teacher at the magician’s enclave, that’s a few weeks travel south of here. I may not have been one of his best students, but there was no doubt that he was the best teacher.”
“If he was such a good teacher,” Sarah asked, a slight edge in her voice, “then why didn’t you do any better?”
“Fair question,” responded Michael. “As Everett will quickly point out, I just didn’t care enough. It was all a game to me.”
“Magicians almost destroyed the world,” grumbled Oliver. “Was that a game, too?”
“Magicians are just like everyone else,” responded Michael without a pause. “There were some evil men among the first magicians, and they had too much power.”
“Go on, Michael,” said Sarah. “You were telling us why you weren’t one of Everett’s best students.”
“That’s really all there is to it. Everett had infinite patience with me, but it never paid off for him. All I wanted to do was have fun. I’d sneak off from my studies every chance I got so that I could meet with my friends.”
“Then there were other people at the enclave besides the magicians?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, but not many. The gardener had a couple of daughters that I was fond of.”
“I don’t think I want to hear about them,” she responded with a frown.
Michael smiled. “Well, anyway, Everett could always find me. Whenever and wherever I would sneak off to, he would find me. It’s like Thomas showing up to guide us. Everett knew when I was coming and where I would be.”
“Is that a talent that Acantha has learned?” Oliver asked sternly.
Michael stopped smiling as he considered the possibilities. “I hope not, but probably.”
“Who’s Acantha?” asked Big Thomas.
Michael sighed and told him about the recent trouble at the magician’s enclave. The day’s travel was finally brought to a halt when Sarah began to show signs that she was tiring. She valiantly tried to keep up with Big Thomas’ determined pace, but she had been through too much in the last twenty-four hours.
Michael had been keeping a concerned eye on her until he noticed she was falling further and further behind.
“Thomas, we need to stop. I must be worn out because of all I went through last night,” he said.
“Oh, please Michael,” panted Sarah. “You don’t have to protect my image to Thomas and Oliver. They can see as well as you can that it’s not you who is worn out, but me.”
“Well, perhaps we’re both ready to stop. How about it, Thomas, is there any place near here to rest for the night?”
“Sure,” replied Thomas. “Just about a quarter-mile from here there’s a clearing with a stream nearby. We can camp there. Everett didn’t say I had to hurry.”
In less than a half-hour they had stopped, and the men had gotten a cozy fire blazing with enough wood in the camp to last through the night. Sarah had stretched out near the fire using Thomas’ empty pack for a pillow and was asleep before they could finish a meal of dried venison and spring water.
Michael spoke to Oliver as he looked at Sarah sleeping by the fire. “I have never asked Sarah how she came to be running a tavern. It didn’t seem like an appropriate question.”
“No mystery,” responded Oliver quietly. “My best friend was her Uncle Gus. He started the tavern over thirty years ago, long before Sarah was born. Her parents died of a fever when she was only five years old. She had the same fever, and old Gus took her in and nursed her back to health. She has lived with him ever since.
“Gus died last year. Huntin’ accident,” Oliver continued, as he gazed into the fire. “Sarah stayed on in the tavern, not because it’s the kind of life she wants, but because it’s the only life she has ever known.”
The three men were silent as they thought about the gentle young woman and the heartbreak she must have felt when she lost the last of her family.
“What about Charlie?” Michael asked softly.
“Ah, Charlie,” Oliver responded with a smile. “You know, the seamen that came into port in Monterey all eventually wind up at old Gus’s tavern. Once they were there, some of these gruff men couldn’t help but make advances at Gus’s beautiful niece. Old Gus would toss them out the front door where they would land face-down in the dusty street outside.
“The word was eventually spread not to tamper with Gus’s niece. When Charlie showed up he was instantly smitten with Sarah. Naturally he found himself rolling in the dust outside. What separated Charlie from the rest of the riffraff was that he was enchanted with Sarah in an innocent way. He’s a bit simple, you know. And then his integrity was shown when he picked himself up from the dust and re-entered the tavern to apologize to Gus and Sarah.
“After that, he remained in Monterey to work the fishing boats. When Gus died, Sarah gave him work. Charlie eventually became capable enough to be left in charge of the bar at night, freeing Sarah from the long hours she had been working.”
“Sounds like a real good man,” offered Thomas. “I hope I’m lucky enough to meet him someday.”
“I hope you do too,” answered Oliver. “But right now I think I’m going to do like Sarah and get some sleep.”
Michael stayed awake into the night as those around him slept. He was lost in thought about Sarah and the life she had led. He felt even closer to her now that he knew of some of the hardships that she had had to endure.
* * * * * While Michael’s group was relaxing, Acantha was railing in her keep. The former magician’s enclave, now Acantha’s keep, took on the appearance of a mystical castle as the sun shone its last rays of the day on the towers. In her laboratory, in the highest part of the castle, she stalked across the floor to the far wall, only to turn about and stalk back.
“They’re still trying to stop me,” she yelled at one of the simple men she kept as an enslaved servant.
The hapless flunky ducked and cringed as she grabbed a nearby foul-smelling flask and hurled it at him. If only she would immerse herself in her scheming and planning again, then maybe he could escape the room unseen. Perhaps another luckless soul would suffer her next tirade, but he would be free until it was his turn to be called again.
“You!” she screamed, pointing a dagger-like finger at the cowering man. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing Mistress, I swear it! Nothing!”
“Get out of my sight! You disgust me, cowering there like an idiot. Must I do everything myself?”
“Yes, Mistress. I mean, no, Mistress. I mean, I’m leavin
g, Mistress.”
The fortunate man turned on his heels and fled the room before the enraged woman could change her mind. When the offending man was finally gone, Acantha sat at her workbench and with a sweep of her hand angrily brushed the multi-colored beakers half-filled with fluids, paperwork, jars laden with dust, and various roots, herbs and dried animal parts to the floor.
She leaned over one of the few remaining items on her bench. It was a large shallow-bottom crystal bowl. It was filled to the brim with fresh dark-red blood. It had taken her most of the day to draw this much blood from two of her servants without killing them. They were needed too much to perform the mundane tasks around the castle for her to kill them needlessly.
Slowly she passed one hand over the bowl repeatedly. On that hand was the ruby ring. As she passed her hand over the ornate crystal bowl, the richly colored blood began to clear. As it cleared, the ruby grew even darker red than before. She could see them now, Michael sitting on a wooded hillside next to a campfire. Asleep next to him was the girl she had seen in her bowl two months earlier. Now two others were added to the scene, an old weather-beaten man, and a huge man covered with hair.
No matter, she knew where he was again. It was the same area she had seen when she had spied on Everett, the old man that had warned Michael in the first place. If he was going to Everett, it pleased her greatly. She could be rid of them both at the same time. She would need to contact Croom. Once he was on his way to where they were hiding, she could relax for a while. When he finally reached them, she would be ready for battle. This time there would be no mistakes. This time she would control Croom’s every movement. It would be she who would stop the meddlesome old man and Michael.
With a wave of her hand, the scene in the bowl changed from the wooded hillside to the beaches just north of Monterey. Along this darkening beach walked a short man in new leather boots and coat. Although the clothing was new, Croom’s appearance had deteriorated. The stench followed him wherever he went. Acantha could see in her ensorcelled bowl that he would not be able to pass among the living any longer.
“You are a mess, Croom.”
He stopped his plodding steps and looked around. “You invade my mind again, Acantha.”
“You have no mind, Croom.”
“What do you want of me now? Have I not suffered enough?”
“I am not concerned with your suffering! Fail me and you will suffer forever!”
“What must I do? Tell me so I can do it and finish this walking hell!”
“Michael is in the mountains in the north. He is going to that old teacher of his, Everett. I want you to go there and finish what I had you begin months ago. I want them both dead! I want that ring!”
Croom turned to look towards the mountains. It would be about a three-day walk just to approach the beginnings of the mountains. No matter, he had all the time in the world.
Acantha peered deeper into the bowl. “Croom,” she hissed. Croom jerked as though struck. “Again, I warn you...Don’t fail me!”
Acantha once again waved her hand over the crystal. Her ring had absorbed all of the life-giving force of the blood, and now it was just a pool of clear lifeless fluid. She grasped the now useless bowl in her hands as she went to the window to dump the contents.
“Your future, Michael,” she whispered to herself as she tossed the contents from the window. “Yours and the old man’s. Just dead, useless garbage.”
CHAPTER 7
Michael and Sarah woke at the same time to the delicious aroma of meat cooking on an open fire. When the sleep finally left their eyes, they saw Thomas and Oliver tending to what was to be their morning meal over the campfire.
Oliver turned as he became aware of them. “About time you pups woke up,” he remarked. “I told you two I could keep up with you. Seems I’m doing better than that.”
“What is that wonderful smell?” asked Sarah as they approached the fire.
“Roast pig,” answered Thomas as he busied himself over the cook fire. “How about some ham steaks for breakfast?”
Michael braced the small of his back with both hands as he bent backward to stretch the kinks loose from sleeping on the ground. He deeply inhaled the damp, early morning air. “I give up, how did you manage roast pig for breakfast?” he asked.
“I live in the mountains, Michael, I can’t just go to the nearest tavern for my meals. You live in the wilds like this, you learn to fend for yourself. Oliver and I got up early and tracked for game. Didn’t take me long to find this fella. One flex of the bow, and we have breakfast. Oliver helped me lug it back here so that you two sleepy heads could feed your faces.”
“Well,” Michael said with a chuckle, “it’s lucky we have the two of you with us. I don’t think either of us thought ahead to our next meal.”
The four enjoyed ample fare of ham steaks and mushrooms, washing it down with fresh spring water that Oliver had taken from the stream.
Sarah was enjoying what was a totally new experience for her. She had never slept under the stars before, let alone waking to the smell of wild boar roasting on an open fire.
She did not give much thought to the danger that had so recently passed. She felt quite secure with these capable men. She put her problems behind her, and enjoyed licking the flavorful grease from her fingers.
The morning hunt seemed to help bring the old fisherman and the mountain man closer together, as they were deep in animated conversation while eating. Thomas was living up to the needs of his girth by consuming as much of the roast pig as did his three companions put together.
Of the travelers, only Michael was deep in thought about what had happened two nights earlier. His main concern was the future. He was sure Everett could help, but Everett wanted to return for the ruby ring. Michael fervently hoped the old magician would help them escape, and not try to persuade him to join in the quest for the ruby. He wanted no part of any quest; he only wanted a normal life. As they doused the fire, being sure it was totally out to avoid what could become a devastating wildfire, Thomas explained to them what to expect next on their trip through the mountains.
“We’ll head east from here toward that summit over there,” he said as he pointed to their destination.
“Before we get there, a couple of hours from now in fact, we’ll meet up with the weed people. They’ll capture us and take us to their camp. We’ll stay there for the night.”
“Weed people? Capture us?” exclaimed a startled Sarah. “What do you mean we’re going to be captured by weed people? Michael, what’s he talking about?”
Michael seemed as puzzled as Sarah over who, or what, the weed people were.
“I don’t know,” responded Michael. “Who are the weed people, Thomas?”
“Oh, sorry,” said Thomas with an embarrassed grin. “Not being mountain folk you probably don’t know about the weed people. Let’s get on our way and I’ll explain.”
The four travelers began their early morning trek farther into the lush green mountains. Although the going was rough in places, the fresh spring air helped to invigorate them as they walked.
There were places along the way that showed the mark of the mysterious past society shown in Michael’s books. One moment they would be pushing their way through heavy undergrowth, the next they would break free into a clearing where the ground would be covered with the broken concrete Sarah was so used to seeing in the village.
Even out here in the wild, she thought. They must have been able to go anywhere with ease.
As she was thinking of these past people, she was also listening to Thomas’ explanation of the weed people.
“The weed people are a tribe of mountain folk. Totally harmless, but don’t tell them that. They try very hard to be a fierce lot. They’re just so fumbling and ineffective that they are hard to take seriously. They’re called weed people because they smoke weeds that they grow up here in the mountains. The stuff really addles their brains though. Just smoke this stuff of theirs a few time
s and it does strange things to your mind...and they smoke it all the time.”
“Is that what makes them so fumbling?” asked Sarah as she struggled to keep up with Thomas’ steady gait.
“Yeah, it’s like that stuff has fried their brains. They have always used it. Their parents used it and their parent’s parents. They get forgetful at times, so they may forget to bring us back to their camp once they capture us, so we have to be ready to remind them.”
“I must be missing something here, Thomas,” Oliver interjected. “Why do we want these weed people to capture us?”
Big Thomas threw his massive arms out to the side in a gesture of helplessness. “It’s that Everett. He does some strange things. Actually, he just likes these people. They think he’s some kind of prophet or something. So, the weed people capture us. Then they’ll send someone to Everett telling him about the four people they caught trying to reach him. This way they get to feel useful to him. He says it gives them purpose, if you get what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do,” Oliver muttered to himself.
“It sounds as though you’re pretty fond of Everett,” said Michael. “Do you do everything he asks of you?”
Thomas stopped his steady pursuit of the summit. The stop was greatly appreciated by Sarah. Although they had been traveling just a little over an hour, the steady uphill grade and Thomas’ milegrinding pace was taking its toll.
She took the opportunity to pull off the unfamiliar boots Oliver had found for her. They had last been used by a boy from the village who would occasionally help him on his fishing boat. She began rubbing her tired feet, enjoying the relief as Thomas answered Michael’s question:
“Yeah, I reckon I’d do just about anything that little old man wanted me to. He saved my life you know. That’s how we met.”
“What happened?” asked Sarah as she looked up at the large man from her seat on a fallen tree.
Thomas sat next to her on the log, giving the cue to all that they could take a few minutes for rest.
“Well, it’s a bit embarrassing to me,” he answered sheepishly. “After all, I live in these mountains. I’m supposed to be in control all the time; but I guess everyone slips up once in a while. It’s just if you slip up too badly here, it can get you killed.
The Enchanted Emerald (The Enchanted Stones Book 1) Page 5