by M. M. Perry
Nat looked at the sword. He whirled around, making a few swipes with the sword before pantomiming sheathing it at his hip. He pretended to draw it. He swung it around a few more times, then he thrust it over his shoulder, as if he had a scabbard there, and would have stabbed Gunnarr if the warrior hadn’t taken a quick step back.
“Oh gods, I’m so sorry,” Nat said, flustered as he backed away from Gunnarr apologetically and lowered his sword.
Gunnarr blinked a few times before replying. He was certain he’d felt the wind of the blade’s passage brush his right cheek.
“On your hip it is then,” he said.
He motioned for Nat to follow him. They walked through the village, Nat holding his sword carefully pointed at the ground at all times. Gunnarr stopped at the village blacksmith’s. The smith was there, plunging something glowing into a bucket of cold water. Steam billowed out from the bucket as the hot metal screamed, filling the small area with the smell of iron. The blacksmith waved at Gunnarr when he noticed him approaching.
“I’ve put them over there for you. Take any you like,” the blacksmith said. He gestured toward a table covered in scabbards before he went back to work.
Gunnarr perused the leather belts and harnesses with scabbards attached with a well-trained eye. The leather of the various scabbards was scored with many different designs. Some designs depicted battles with ferocious beasts, others were simply complex geometric designs. Some bore the symbols of different gods. Gunnarr picked one of these up and handed it to Nat.
“This symbol represents the god Tackon. He is the teaching god, responsible for helping all those who wish to learn. You may choose any of these you like, but I think this one would be a good match for you. When you become a master and eventually find the sword you will carry for the rest of your life, then you can choose a scabbard that speaks to your mastery of the blade, and marks you as a full-fledged warrior.”
Nat took the scabbard and slid his new sword into it, which fit it reasonably well. He held both close to his chest as he looked back up at the huge Braldashadian, an expression of sincere gratitude on his face. For a moment, the giant warrior thought he might understand what it would be like to have a younger brother.
“Now, let me show you how to wear it.”
By the time Gunnarr had finished tutoring Nat, taking enough time to show the boy some very basic stances for drawing and sheathing the blade safely, everyone else was ready to leave town. Inez sat in her wagon, still pouting over the previous night’s disappointment. She glared at Cass, thinking of ways she could get back at the warrior. Viola joined the party shortly after Nat and Gunnarr, astride a slender white horse. It was smaller than Cass and Gunnarr’s mounts, but larger than Nat’s pony. Its sleek body and long legs made it look like it was built for sprinting.
When Gunnarr and Nat mounted up, Cass looked around at the group.
“Are we ready to go then?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Callan said stretching his neck, “I didn’t think it was possible to sleep on a bed less comfortable than the one in my tent. Let’s get back to uncivilization.”
Chapter 6
They had been travelling for several hours and the trees were beginning to thin out, letting the sun break through the canopy to shine down brightly on the travelling party. Inez had put up part of the canvas that covered her little wagon at night to give herself some shade. Callan had insisted they stop so Nat could help him assemble a red canopy and affix it to his saddle. The contraption was comprised of poles that fit into little slots around the saddle, and a bright red fabric canopy draped over Callan’s head. The symbol of two birds fighting in midair was emblazoned on the canopy in bright white—Faylendar’s crest.
Cass was going to remark that Callan wasn’t doing a good job of remaining inconspicuous before she thought better of it. She knew he would, if goaded, likely take down the canopy. However, she didn’t relish the thought of him complaining bitterly about it for the remainder of the trip. She decided it was worth fighting off the inevitable highwayman or two who would target them just to keep the king quiet.
Viola rode up alongside Cass. She watched the tall warrior admiringly, but turned away shyly when Cass noticed her.
“Viola. I’d hoped we might get a moment alone. Why so desperate to leave your village? Is motherhood so hateful to you that you’d rather risk your life than face it?”
Viola shook her head.
“I have nothing against being a mother. I… just wanted to have one last journey is all. Once wed, an enchanter never leaves the village again. My life is… well it has been so exciting and unpredictable. I’m not ready to give that up yet,” Viola said.
“Hmmm,” Cass looked down at the redhead.
She remembered the desperation in the young woman’s eyes. It spoke of more than just a desire to have one last adventure. But Cass could tell Viola didn’t want to discuss it, at least not yet, so she let it drop, and they cantered along in silence for a while.
Viola struggled with something to say to the warrior. She wanted to start up a conversation, but could think of nothing that she felt wouldn’t sound mundane or juvenile.
“You must have been to the Village of Light before,” Viola said, “you seemed to know the decorum of dealing with the elder.”
“I’ve been there twice before,” Cass said thinking back, “The first time, you would have been quite young then, maybe even too young for your people to offer your aid. That had to have been… more than ten years ago. And…I was there again about five years ago. But I haven’t been to the Village of Light since then. I usually go to the Magister’s Mountain Keep if I need an enchanter. I would have gone there this time too, if Nat hadn’t been willing to go through with the ceremony.”
“The Mountain Keep?” Viola said questioningly, “That would have added quite a detour to your trip, perhaps weeks if the weather was bad.”
“Yes, it would,” Cass said simply.
“Is it so hard to find a virgin these days then?” Viola asked.
“Well, the boys who want to… couple, surprisingly, have usually managed to figure out how to get a woman to themselves for a few minutes and done away with that pesky virginity,” Cass said dryly, “when they are well younger than most would assume such things happen.”
“But,” she continued, “you can still find those old enough to partake of the Village’s ceremony that haven’t. It is difficult, but there are some young men out there who have yet to have a go at the four-legged frolic. Often though, many boys that make it to manhood untried wouldn’t think it much a gift to be given as tribute to your village. Some of them have plans for their future that don’t include sex,” Cass said.
“I see,” Viola said thinking, “You gave an unwilling man to our village, is that it?”
“I did not,” Cass bristled, “He was brought there without my knowledge. I was accompanying a young woman who needed a dragon’s heart. She told me a young man would meet us at the village, but she didn’t tell me he was one of the Clear Men.”
“But our people would never take one of the Clear Men if they did not wish it!” Viola protested.
“He was not unwilling at first. The young woman had convinced him she loved him, and that they would marry after the ceremony. I knew she had no such intention. She was ruthlessly devoted to getting that heart for the potion she was trying to make. I tried to persuade the Clear Man she was lying, that she was only using him, but he wouldn’t believe me. He thought he was in love. He went through with the ceremony. He woke the next morning to find that the young woman had already left, taking the enchanter he’d paid for with her. Knowing how I felt, she wisely slipped away without informing me either,” Cass said, “I did my best to console the poor man, but he had given her everything, and been left with nothing.”
Viola frowned, “I hope she died getting that dragon’s heart!’
The right corner of Cass’ mouth lifted in a small smile.
“I’
ll tell you just this. She never did retrieve her dragon heart,” Cass said.
“Good.” Viola said. “I may not agree with the Clear Men’s beliefs, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s right to trick them in to turning their backs on them.”
Viola thought for a moment.
“That’s why you don’t come to our village any more, why you go to the Mountain Keep instead?” she asked.
“Pretty much. I swore it was the last time I would be tricked like that. The best way to ensure that was the last time is never to put myself in that situation again. The magisters don’t request anything in return for their services other than gold,” Cass said.
“Why come to our village this time?” Viola asked.
“Callan’s wife is ill. He says it’s serious. A delay to travel to the Magister’s Keep could cost her life. Nat was willing, and knew exactly what was being asked of him, so I decided not to risk the delay,” Cass said.
“Well then. I guess I’m lucky Nat was willing,” Viola said.
As they continued on, the trees thinned to the point that a break in the woods stretched to both sides of them, offering a vista of rolling hills covered in high grasses and wildflowers. The grasses were taller than a man mounted on horseback. Sounds of prairie life filled the air, the cacophony of the insects, birds and small animals that called the grasslands their home.
Cass’ horse pulled back a bit, suddenly alerted by something. Cass quickly hopped off her horse and could immediately tell why. Years of traveling this area had left them both acutely receptive to the subtle vibrations she could now feel through her boots; a rhythmic pattern in the earth alerted her to the presence of a herd of gordonnas. Cass ran her hand down her mount’s flank, soothing it as best she could.
“Watch your horses. They might try to bolt. Calm them, and we should be fine,” Cass said as she hopped back up on her horse.
“What is it?” Nat asked looking around curiously as his little pony snorted apprehensively.
Viola rode her horse forward a little, its sure feet steady and its head held high. Of all the mounts, Viola’s was the only one that didn’t seem troubled at all by the vibrations.
“Gordonnas,” Viola said looking to the north, “a large herd by the look of it. We could wait them out.”
“No,” Cass said, her mount dancing sideways, ready to bolt at her mistress’s lightest touch. Cass continued to pat her side. “They might go right past, or they could graze here for days. We can’t wait to see if they will leave. We have to make a run for it and beat them across.”
Gunnarr kicked his horse forward and looked north. Just coming in to view were several dozen massive creatures lumbering across the land. Their feet were huge and round, easily twenty feet across. They towered up into the sky, their huge bodies shaking with each step they took. Their legs were not long, compared to the rest of their bulk. Their wide flat heads swung from side to side. Their skin was dark green, soaking up the sun as they moved and warming their blood.
The gordonnas at the front of the herd occasionally stopped to tear huge mouthfuls of the fifteen-foot-tall grass up from the ground. As the leaders were grazing, those who had run out of things to eat behind them pushed past to fresher pastures. It was easy to see where the gordonnas had already grazed. Huge paths of grass shorn down to a few inches off the ground trailed behind the massive beasts.
“We need to take the goatherd’s path,” Gunnarr said, looking down the narrow path. It marked the passage of nomads who travelled these grasslands, letting their goats graze on the endless supply of fast growing grass.
“It’ll have to be one at a time,” Cass said looking at the approaching gordonnas, “you lead. Your horse is a stallion. The other mounts will more readily follow his lead.”
A mile certainly looked like a long way, but if the gordonnas were on the move and motivated, they could clear that ground in a matter of minutes despite the illusion of slow, languid movement their bulk created. Each step they took spanned at least fifty feet, and Cass had once seen a rutting male do a half-mile dash at a hundred feet a stride. Not to mention the fact that the closer the huge beasts got, the more nervous and uncontrollable their mounts would become.
Gunnarr turned to Cass, concern wrinkling his brow.
“I’ll be waiting for you on the other side,” he said.
As Gunnarr moved his horse to the front of the party, angling towards the narrow path through the field, Cass turned around and shouted.
“Everyone, follow Gunnarr! I’ll be close behind. Don’t stop for anything. Just ride!”
Gunnarr gave his huge mount a nudge and it shot off, full speed, into the narrow gap in the grass. It let out a triumphant whinny as it plunged in, which had the effect that Cass wanted. The other mounts echoed his cry and followed after. Cass had to hold her horse in check to keep it from charging into the grass right then. Viola, Callan and Nat’s mounts all sped after Gunnarr, even as the sounds of the huge gordonnas came ever closer.
Inez’s donkey just sat there stubbornly. Inez jangled the turnip in front of its nose, but the creature did not move.
“Blasted beast!” Inez screeched.
Cass rode over to the cart and smacked the animal on the rump. It jerked into action and bolted after the others, Inez’s little wagon bouncing along crazily behind it. Cass had to hold her mount back as it tried to push past Inez’s wagon. She glanced up at the herd of gordonnas and flinched. They were far too close. She led her mount around the wagon and slapped the ass again. It gained a little speed but Cass could see it was not enough. The gordonnas were closing in on them fast.
Cass turned her mount around to face the gordonnas and tried to think of something to buy Inez some time. She could see that the little wagon would soon be right in the path of one of the approaching gordonnas. If that happened, the donkey pulling the little wagon would panic. He would very likely be caught up in his own harness and crushed as he tried to flee.
Cass steeled herself, worried her horse would sense her agitation. She didn’t want her mount to be any more nervous than it already was. She knew this would be tricky enough without her horse sensing her fear. Cass prodded the horse into action, barreling straight for the oncoming feet of the gordonna that was headed toward Inez. The horse’s gait faltered just once, for only a moment, but it had been with Cass since it was but a foal, and it trusted her enough to ignore its own fear.
As soon as Gunnarr and the rest of the group made it to the edge of the tree line, he turned around to look for Inez and Cass. He knew the gordonnas would avoid the trees, preferring the grasslands. He could see Inez trying desperately to coax Barnaby, her donkey, into moving faster. A gordonna was within a few paces of her, oblivious to the old woman, cart, and donkey ahead. Gunnarr could not see Cass. He scanned the field and caught a flicker of some of the long grass shifting against the direction of the breeze. The disturbance was moving straight towards the gordonna. With a shock, he realized that was Cass. As much as he wanted to aid her, he knew he could not. He realized that more than likely he would only get in her way.
Cass plowed through the thick grass. She saw nothing in front of her other than grass whipping past, since the blades were so tall, but she could see the gordonna looming above her as she got closer to its legs. Its huge mouth came crashing down towards her and Cass had to juke away from the gaping maw as it clamped down on the swatch of grassland she’d been in just a moment before. The gordonna effortlessly wrenched the tall grass up and away into the air, bits of plant and clods of dirt raining down in a trail behind. An enormous glop of saliva landed on Cass’ arm as she urged her horse through the newly cleared area.
She maneuvered herself under the legs of the beast and pulled out her sword. As the beast began to take another step forward, Cass kicked her horse closer to one of the front legs and swung as high as she could, her blade biting deep into the creature’s impossibly thick hide. Her first attempt at trying to get the gordonna’s attention didn’t work. The hu
ge herd animal’s right foot came down so close to the rear of Inez’s wagon that it tipped precariously as the ground shifted beneath it. Inez gripped the sides of the wagon as it tilted back and forth. Only Barnaby’s forward momentum kept the wagon upright.
Cass could see that the next step the gordonna would take would put the little wagon directly between its front two legs. She knew Barnaby would not be able to think straight when he found himself trapped like that. Cass shot over to the left leg, which was just now beginning to lift off the ground. She pointed her sword and thrust with all her might. It sank in half a foot before Cass let go of it and pulled her mount around and away from the deadly leg. Her sword was now firmly embedded in the beast’s foot like a metal thorn.
The gordonna finally took notice of Cass. It lifted its leg at the annoyance and saw the small creature running around near its feet. It stepped backward, irritated, then lifted a massive leg high up in the air, ominously. Cass pushed her horse into action as the foot came crashing down to crush her. The horse, snorting and sweating, bolted away from Inez and the rest of the party in the tree line. Cass could feel the wind from the foot stomping behind her and feel the shock of it through her mount. She tried not to look behind her as the sun was blotted out completely by the beast’s head as it lowered its nostrils to inspect her.
The gordonna was now more curious than angry. Cass doubted the prick she had given it would even draw blood. But with its bulk, even an inquisitive sniffing would send Cass and her mount flying end over end. She knew she had to gain some ground before that happened. Cass spurred her mount on, circling in a wide loop back through the grass to the goat herder’s path, and the gordonna shifted, taking a step to follow. Cass could see Inez just now entering the wood beyond. She could also feel the heat of the gordonna’s breath as its head came ever closer to her.