Kaell and Bhask did not look impressed upon seeing the Princess and the Druid returning with another man. They had been intent on keeping their whereabouts a mystery to the world, and moreover, they did not want everyone to know that the Princess was reunited with Wolves of old.
Bhask wasted no time in confronting the newcomer, looming over him even when Von Gillivez was not a small man.
‘Goblins Master Bhask, they are already on this side of the mountain, and we found this man as unexpectedly as the goblins found us,’ explained Metrus.
‘Have you ever seen this man before, Edran?’ asked Bhask over his shoulder.
‘No, Master Wolf,’ answered the Miller.
‘I am new to this valley I admit. My name is Von Gillivez. Call me Gillivez when it suits you. And I know who you are,’ he said to Bhask. ‘I know the Princess by the look of her, and I’ve heard rumours of the Wolves returning to Attoras.’
‘How did you get to this side of the mountain?’ asked Bhask.
‘I was caught between two goblin companies during the assault. When the guard was gaining the upper hand, a group of goblins fled into the mountains. Going the other way was not an option for me, as I would have been dragged down in the crossfire. I followed the goblins into the mountain caverns, as they are too scared to try and climb over it. Underground though they are at home and I used them to come safely out on this side. I would have been hopelessly lost had I not followed them closely and I certainly wouldn't be able to trace my way back if I had to brave the caverns again,’ said Gillivez.
‘We came through just fine,’ said Kaell.
‘It is not like the Dragonwell, Kaell; the caverns he speaks of are dark and treacherous. They were not made for man,’ said Bhask.
‘Indeed!’ said Von Gillivez.
‘What is your profession?’ asked Bhask.
‘A trapper, Master Wolf, and consequently a very good tracker as well.’
‘That at least explains how you kept up with the goblins,’ said Bhask, ‘and I hope your talents will keep you alive. Know that you cannot take refuge with us. Our mission is too important for anyone to ride our coattails. We cannot offer you protection.’
‘I would not need stay with you long, only until I can count on safer roads that I may follow all the way to Nortalon!’
‘He did help save me, Master Bhask, before Metrus could do anything he struck down a goblin that had been hunting me,’ insisted Shala.
Bhask seem to go through the same reluctance Metrus had shown.
The Wolf looked hard at the Trapper. ‘The Princess has a kind heart that would save creatures that once endangered her kingdom. Do not betray that trust.’
Von Gillivez looked relieved. ‘Of course, and I thank you for your kindness. I will put my talents to use for your benefit, and help carry the load until such a time that we part ways.’
Bhask turned to Edran. ‘Do you have spare fittings for our friend here? A tent and some tools at least if nothing else.’
‘And some rope!’ added Gillivez boldly.
‘Of course! I can provide for all the ghosts of the mountain!’ said Edran, who looked pleased that his role had not come to an end just yet.
III
In the morning they were off with heavy packs, lucky that Metrus and Gillivez could help them carry for now, at least until they could get to the stables. They had a brief parting with Edran, Shala fondly saying goodbye to the humble man for whom she had gained a lot of respect in the last few days. Shala hoped he had the sense to stay out of trouble. Staying alone as he did and helping Wolves did not predict longevity.
The westward roads were sorely neglected, and there was little to justify keeping them maintained. For all purposes the Kingdom of Attoras ended on the western edge of the black mountains, being a great physical divide as they were. Very few people made of the west their home. For Shala's sake they marched slowly and did so all through the morning, following the marks that Kaell had laid out the previous day. Evidently he could travel much faster on his own it seemed, as he claimed to have made it to the stables in just half a day previously. ‘So we'll trek all the way back when we turn around?’ asked Shala.
‘Yes, but we'll be on horseback at least. And we'll take a more southern route to the pass around the foothills of Black mountains.’
‘Why did Kaell have to mark the road? Are you unfamiliar with the way?’
Bhask shook his head. ‘Some places hide themselves better than you might suspect. Strange woods like these repel sensible folk and lure institutes like the Arwark stables. They are rumoured to be mystical, or rather, these woods have fooled one too many travellers onto stray paths.’
At midday they stopped for a spell and lunch, which was more or less the same dried food they ate all through the day. After that their road became even slower, both because of the increasing difficulty of the road and their dwindling pace.
At some stage Kaell and Bhask talked at length, almost whispering. Shala did not hear what they discussed, but the conclusion was that they all came to an early stop that day, leaving the rest of the way for tomorrow.
At first Shala thought this was simply practical, as Bhask showed Shala how to set up the tiny tent rolled up in her pack. The Wolf had it up with the efficiency of someone who knew exactly how to operate a loom. ‘A fine demonstration Master Bhask, but I might ask you on the occasion to help me,’ said Shala, not really sure she could replicate what Bhask had just done.
Bhask smiled, ‘Of course Highness, I was only showing you out of interest's sake. You can leave it to either me or Kaell to prepare your tent every evening.’
Spreading her blanket roll herself inside the tent, Shala realized the thing was so tiny it was really only fit for a person to crawl in and sleep, and really nothing else other than that. Not that she was in any mood to carry a heavier tent's fittings during the day. No, this is just fine.
Leaving her tent ready for the night she saw Kaell by the stream, vestiges of the same mountain river having followed them all the way. Shala frowned as she came closer and then stopped entirely: He was sitting on his knees, and using the last light of day to paint his face as he stared down on his own reflection. She then knew why he wanted to stop for the day.
There was a foreboding feeling about it all. He had a collection of clay jars spread open around him, filled with different pastes that he used as paint. The jars of paint he must've obtained from that trunk of Edran's, but the idea of what he was doing Shala knew not.
The paint on his face was mostly black; the shapes intricately pressed over each other, around the fierce blue eyes were thin linings of white, and from the temples down the cheek to the jaw were slashes of red paste, looking truly as though his skin had been split open and the flesh peeled to either side. It downright scared Shala, and her companions’ silence about it scared her even more. It was a mask of death Shala decided. Was this a thing of the Wolves? She had never heard or read of such a tradition. There were of course the silver masks they wore made in the likeliness of a wolf's head, but this seemed wholly strange.
‘What’s gotten into the lad?’ asked Von Gillivez, ‘does he do this often?’
Shala shook her head. She wished she was in a position to answer him.
When Kaell was done their eyes only met once that evening and it was abundantly clear he wasn't going to discuss what was going on. It wasn't long after that, that she retreated into her tent. She felt suffocated and morbid, but it had little to do with the tent she would have to get used to. Outside some of Bhask's berry flavoured pipe weed reached her inside the tent. She would count on him to explain to her Kaell's behaviour, because she was not going to ask him herself.
IV
The next day the Arwark stables were truly not far, and so they did not have to carry too heavily for too long. Bhask carried the heaviest load and seemed not bothered by it at all.
Kaell was even more silent the next day, as though forgoing all conversation now. There w
as a determination to him and Shala could swear she knew the look of rehearsal on the man’s face, as if he was reliving something, or more troubling, planning something. After a while she tried to avoid looking at him altogether.
Shala wondered at the stable’s purposes, for the buildings were grand and could house many stalls. It seemed too big to simply be there to equip a runaway Princess with a steed. On top of that it was remote, removed from the network of roads that connected the cities of the Attoras kingdom. Here there was little traffic of other men, and most were not of the kind to buy expensive horses.
‘They were here when the kingdom was established and they’ll be here when the kingdom is undone,’ answered Bhask to Shala when she asked about it. ‘It’s a common phrase answered to your question.’
‘Is it supposed to answer my question at all?’
‘I don’t know Highness and good luck getting a better answer from the proprietor.’
They took awhile to find this proprietor, a man named Jenody. Stable boys and grooms pointed them in the supposed direction of the man until they had almost circled the entire premise.
Kaell threw down the heavy packs like a child on the verge of a tantrum.
‘Enough of this! You! Fetch us the horse master! And you! Bring us drink now, and enough of it to fill our skins as well!’ He shouted at two nearby stable boys. They obeyed and scurried away, looking ready to soil themselves at the command of Kaell with his painted face.
There they waited, and being tired they had no will in them to talk amongst themselves. At least I'm tired, thought Shala, having found her companions sparse on conversation at the best of times.
Jenody the proprietor arrived no sooner than the boy who brought the water in two large pails accompanied by cups. They quenched their thirst while greeting the man. Jenody was courteous and well dressed, wearing a rugged tailcoat over a white linen shirt, his boots clean and shiny even for a man who supposedly spent his days managing stables. Because of this Shala realized Bhask wasn't nearly as warm toward this man as he had been toward Edran, who had been underdressed even for a country bumpkin. She decided to give it little thought, after all, Bhask would not consort with those he didn't trust would he?
‘You're one man more than you said you would be, Master Bhask, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised,’ said Jenody as he approached.
‘I had thought the west devoid of movement, and we found this Trapper and a cohort of goblins. Lucky for us the Trapper was kind enough to prevent the Princess' demise.’
‘There is always movement in the west Master Bhask. Fools and runabouts that flee from civilization and get lost. Mostly convicts and other unsavoury types, even a Highwayman on the occasion. The latter likes to buy a horse every now and then, the others of course can't afford what we have.’
‘What of types that pose a danger?’
‘Convicts and Highwaymen are not considered dangerous? Why Master Wolf if a host of dark purpose rides our roads I assure you they too are quite lost. Men don't come west willingly, even the Druids seem to prefer Groves that are surrounded by cities,’ said Jenody, casting a glance at Metrus at the last bit.
Metrus did not seem to appreciate the remark.
‘Humour me then, let's suppose that the dangers that drove us here start searching in the west.’
‘Not to worry Master Bhask, the minute I set you out on the south road you will be well covered, or at least until you set foot again on the main roads. But first let's get you these horses that would carry you there, wherever there may be. Walk with me.’
Jenody wore fingerless gloves, often snapping his fingers and pointing at the grooms to indicate them toward some duty, orchestrating effortlessly even as he talked to Bhask.
‘What have you in mind for your horses, Master Bhask? The horse must fit the purpose. Might I ask where you will be heading?’
‘I'd rather not say.’
‘Fine, describe the horses you would have, bearing in mind the terrain and distance you wish to cover.’
Bhask was thoughtful. ‘A strong steady horse for myself who can bear heavy saddlebags and more. For the Princess, a fine horse, well-trained and light to the touch, with a temperament that is both patient and resilient. For Kaell…’ he looked at the young Wolf, ‘A fast horse that will relish being pushed, and will not shy away from dangerous roads. They must all be ready for a long road.’
‘And the newcomer?’ asked Jenody, ‘or will he be going on foot?’
‘Any fine horse you can spare,’ said Bhask.
‘Very good, I already have three particular horses in mind, and a spare as you say,’ said Jenody as though not any one of his horses could be considered a spare.
Jenody led them to stables detached from the others, the building set in a lengthy hall that made a cross shape. ‘Here we hold our finest horses, fit for Kings and warriors of renown. Only in the south do they have horses of our stature, and still then some of those come from our stock. No one admits to it of course, they'd rather keep the source of our horses secret.’
‘We will not be able to pay,’ said Shala quietly as they entered the stables. She had only just realized this problem.
Jenody looked at Shala, at Bhask, then back at Shala with a querying eyebrow that lifted toward his hairline.
‘Our method of payment has already been discussed long before this day Highness,’ said Bhask. Jenody took a parchment from his tailcoat, and brought out a writing quill as well, handing Shala the parchment to read while he held to the quill, ready to give it to her.
Shala shook her head. ‘I can't sign this. It expects an unspecified favour from the throne, or in such case that I do not comply a sum of gold to be paid once I sit on the throne again. Only the amount you disclose is worth half of Attoras' treasury!’
‘Which is why I assure Your Highness that most in your position sign in hope of returning a favour to us,’ said Jenody.
‘Princess, we have little other choice. We need these horses and the passage out on the south road. Jenody is a reasonable man, and the favour he will come to ask will not cripple the kingdom.’
‘You should have told me this was going to happen,’ said Shala angrily at Bhask.
Shala was flushed. This was just another matter that felt beyond her control. Snatching the quill from Jenody she signed the parchment with a stroke that almost pierced through at the bottom. ‘These better be enchanted horses Jenody, if I fail to recapture my place on the throne you will not have favour nor gold from me.’
Jenody smiled. ‘No enchantments Highness, only the magic of vigorous training and proud genealogies that can be traced back at least ten generations.’
‘Lead on,’ said Shala.
‘First, a horse for Your Highness,’ said Jenody taking them to a snow white mare. The big-eyed face peeked out curiously from the cabinet, the fringe of the well groomed mane covering one eye like a patch. The mare had all the charm of a well-proportioned pony, without being as small as one.
‘She's beautiful,’ said Shala, in awe, for the moment forgetting the contract she had just signed.
‘From the line of the best troupe horses, very finely trained as a rule. The grooms called her Jingles, as they often work bells into her mane and saddle, and have her prance around. Of course I would not advise that kind of decoration on your quest.’
‘Certainly not, no bells,’ agreed Bhask, laughing huskily.
Jenody snapped his fingers at the grooms and indicated to them to prepare Jingles.
‘To you, Master Bhask, I give Dompel,’ said Jenody, showing them what must've been the largest horse in the stables, its coat brown and its mane and tail dark. ‘Don't let its sleepy look fool you. Strong and steady as you ask, from a line of the strongest draft horses.’
‘It'll do just fine,’ said Bhask, giving the horse a pat on the cheek, its flat ears writhing in acknowledgement.
Then, for the Trapper, a horse I believe is fitting that can tie a knot and leap free from dan
gers! Merrigold is her name, a fine beast of convincing swiftness. Although if she does illustrate any skills with a rope it will be entirely coincidental.’
Gillivez laughed. ‘As long as she runs hard and strong then I'm appeased,’ he said as they brought him a horse with a brownish-gold coat and a yellow mane. ‘She's a pretty one also,’ said the Trapper as he inspected her closely.
‘Come along, come along, we are not done yet!’ said Jenody.
With a flourish that made his tailcoat sweep the floor Jenody showed them the final stall, a groom opening it up even as he spoke.
‘Last and best of our ensemble is Eigmar, for our... masked friend here. Fast as the wind and tireless altogether! If you wish to brave the high places of the world then this is your horse. It goes without saying that it comes from the finest line of race horse and destrier charger. And its value is beyond measure.’
Bhask and Shala nodded at the splendid horse, but Kaell looked at it indifferently. ‘It prances,’ said Kaell in dismay.
‘A gesture of greeting and courtesy,’ said Jenody.
‘I want a fiery horse, one that will not frighten off.’
‘Kaell just take Eigmar, we are not off to the under-earth you know,’ said Shala, infuriated that he did show gratitude at what was being offered.
Kaell did not respond, looking unimpressed at the chestnut horse before him. With her being tense since the very minute Kaell had painted on the mask, Shala was just about ready to confront him there and then about his change in behaviour. Quite bizarrely though another horse barged in at the far end of the stables, putting halt to all such thoughts, and came to them with an ear piercing whinny, a groom desperately trying to hold it back.
Jenody froze and the other grooms took panicky steps backwards as it approached, the horse as dark as night, the mane wild and somewhat tangled. It whinnied frantically as it circled them, like a charger in battle.
‘Having trouble with this one?’ asked Bhask in amusement.
‘We’ve never come across an animal we could not rein in,’ assured Jenody, although pulling nervously at his collar as the horse stood ever closer, barely kept in check by a growing number of grooms.
‘You have not broken him?’ asked Bhask.
‘We tried,’ admitted Jenody shaking his head, ‘and still he terrorizes the other horses, and none of the boys here take to him. We care only for it at a distance.’
Metrus studied the animal. ‘He is not from around here.’
‘That is correct sir, the brand on his rear signals him as a horse of Avandar. But he was a lone and wild horse when he came to us. We took him in as we do for stray horses and since no one had come to claim him we simply kept him, sometimes to our regret mind you.’
The black horse stamped a hoof impatiently as though trying to have its say.
‘Such a long journey and such daring escape to flee Avandar stables,’ said Kaell
‘Indeed, the horse is proficient at opening locks and doors, which is the very reason it stands here I guess. We let it wander as it wills on most days, but to save us from hurt to our reputation we prefer to keep it locked up when we have guests. Properly locked up mind you, yet it seems someone has forgotten that anything less than a chain and a padlock are insufficient,’ said Jenody, with a stern look under which the groom wilted, the one that had arrived with the horse.
Then, as though to demonstrate Jenody's point the black horse reared and made a show of flying hooves, aimed at Eigmar and the chestnut gelding Jenody favoured panicked and jolted, running for the stable doors, a host of grooms after him.
‘Warrock!’ cried Jenody in dismay.
Kaell walked to the horse, a fire still in its eyes. ‘His name is Warrock?’ he asked.
The owner nodded. ‘It is the name of a cursed horse. That is the nature of the other mark you see on him. It is warning from his previous owners and since we did not have a name for him we simply called him by his mark. When a steed returns time and again from battle, unhurt and alive, but its rider lost and dead, it becomes the Rock of War, or else called Warrock! Undying and preposterously lucky, but its rider always doomed to perish,’ explained Jenody.
‘That's alright, I'm a Wolf and ill-fortune does not plague those familiar to the cold.’
Jenody looked unconvinced. ‘We’ll have Eigmar back in a moment,’ he said.
‘I don’t want a scared horse,’ said Kaell, ‘we have not even taken to the road yet and it bolts off in fear.’
‘I assure you, he is a fine steed and not at all skittish! It is just Warrock has made such a nuisance of himself that the other horses fear him...’
‘Then give me the horse everything else fears,’ said Kaell.
‘You would take a cursed horse?’ asked Jenody in such surprise it sounded like an accusation.
‘I don’t bother myself with curses or superstition. A horse is a horse, and this one can be great beyond reckoning. You call it wild? Well, I need a horse that would charge at the gaping maws of death. Besides, this horse has already chosen me as much as I have chosen it. Look at it, it will follow me even if I do walk away here with another horse,’ said Kaell.
‘Very well, it would be good to have him off our hands. He was testing the limits of our patience as it is. Be wary, he will test you as well, and if his reputation is anything to go by, I pray that you do not succumb as his previous riders did.’
‘Maybe his previous riders were simply unworthy, and the men that attended to him here, clueless.’
‘Enough Kaell, we have no reason to spark animosities here,’ said Bhask.
‘No worries, I am happy as long as he is happy,’ said Jenody, who now looked more than appeased to keep Eigmar and send Warrock off.
‘Well then, we have the majority of the day open to us and I would have us gone as soon as we can. Jenody, if you'd be so kind as to show us the south road, we'll saddle up the horses ourselves.’
The Proprietor nodded. ‘A pleasure as always Bhask, although you always seem to arrive with the strangest of happenings at your heels.’
Dream of Embers Book 1 Page 28