by A. Giannetti
THE BADGER
Before starting on his way, Elerian put out the Goblins’ fire and investigated the packs they had left behind. There was food in them, cooking gear, and a few personal items, but he was not inclined to take any of it, especially the strips of dried meat that he found. When he was satisfied that there was nothing of interest to be found, Elerian settled his own pack on his shoulders and returned to the road. As he took his first step west, toward home, the sharp clink of metal on metal came to his ears, and he froze in place, looking all around him and wondering if the Goblin had returned to resume their battle.
Elerian’s searching eyes settled on a gray and white striped head peering at him from around a large oak tree. A moment later, the badger’s squat, powerful body came into full view from behind the tree. Elerian relaxed his tense muscles when he saw that the animal wore an iron collar around its neck that was attached to a chain, undoubtedly the source of the clink he had heard a moment ago. The badger stared at Elerian warily, ready to bolt if he made a threatening move.
“This must be the beast the Goblins were guarding,” thought Elerian to himself. He examined the animal, wondering what value the Goblins had attached to it, for it seemed nothing more than an ordinary badger. Elerian smiled wryly. “One more mystery for me to carry around,” he thought to himself.
“You are fortunate you showed yourself,” said Elerian to the badger as he cast an opening spell at the collar it wore around its neck. There was a sharp click as the lock opened, and the collar fell to the ground. “You are free to go about your business, my friend,” said Elerian cheerfully to the badger. He resumed walking down the road, all his thought now bent toward returning home as quickly as possible.
A rustle of leaves behind Elerian and to his right stopped him in his tracks. He looked behind him and saw that the badger was following along after him, a short distance off to the side of the road. It favored Elerian with a wistful look that seemed out of place in a wild animal.
“Something is not right with this beast,” thought Elerian to himself. He thought back to the conversation he had heard when he was spying on the Wood Goblins. “They were holding him as a hostage,” he said quietly to himself. “That makes no sense unless he is not a real badger.”
Extending his right hand, Elerian cast a shape-changing spell of the same sort he had used on the mutare. He watched curiously with his third eye as a small sphere of golden light left his fingertips and sped toward the badger. The orb expanded when it struck the animal, covering it with a mantel of golden light. The outline of the badger’s body began to shift and change. Elerian closed his third eye and watched, as the badger’s form grew larger, gradually taking on the shape of a naked young man on his hands and knees. His thick black hair and dark eyes marked him as an Ancharian as did his proud features. Slowly, he stood up and looked about him in a confused manner. He was tall and very thin, as if he had not eaten well for some time.
The young man attempted to speak, but no sound came past his lips. It was as if he had forgotten how to speak. Elerian pulled his leather wine flask out of his pack and silently offered him a drink. After fumbling a bit, for he seemed to have forgotten how to use his hands as well as his voice, the young man took a long swallow. The wine seemed to restore his voice. “Am I truly a man again or am I dreaming?” he asked Elerian haltingly, as if his tongue shaped the words with great difficulty.
“This is no dream,” said Elerian. “I removed the enchantment which held you captive. Was it the Goblins who trapped you in the form of a badger?”
At the mention of Goblins, the young man started and looked wildly all around him, as if he expected his guards to jump out from behind the nearest tree.
“The Goblins are gone,” Elerian reassured the young man. “Two are dead and the third ran away and is likely still running.”
“You should have slain him also, for he is sure to return with others of his kind,” said the young man in a troubled voice. “We should both leave this place as soon as possible.” He took a step and promptly fell to the ground when his weakened, unfamiliar limbs refused to support him.
“You need to rest a bit first,” said Elerian taking his cloak from his pack and wrapping it around the young Ancharian’s thin shoulders. Reluctantly, still carrying Elerian’s wine bottle, the Ancharian rose and walked with careful steps to an oak root springing from the base of a nearby tree.
“I will rest, but not for long,” he said as he sat on the root, all the while darting nervous glances around him as if he still expected Goblins to spring out from between the trees at any moment. Elerian sat across from him on another root. For a second time, the Ancharian drank from Elerian’s bottle. The wine seemed to calm him and also loosened his tongue. “I may as well tell you my story while we sit here,” he said, speaking with greater fluency than before. “My name is Tamas, and my father is the leader of one of the last remnants of our people who still dwell in the eastern part of our country. Recently, we were unexpectedly visited by an emissary from the Goblin King. He was an Uruc, accompanied by a handful of Wood Goblins. He told us that war is coming again, and he offered to renew the old ties that once existed between his people and mine. My father refused the emissary’s overtures, saying we had no desire for war and wished only to be left alone. The Uruc accepted my father’s decision without argument and left, but that night, his Mordi returned and kidnapped me. The next morning, from a safe distance away, the Uruc changed me into a badger before my father’s eyes and the eyes of my people. He told my father that he would return in a month. If he still refused to make allegiance with the Goblin King, I was to be flayed alive before his eyes. Threatening to kill me immediately if there was any pursuit, the Uruc and his followers took me away. When we reached this place, the Uruc rode away north, leaving behind three of his Mordi to guard me. Before he departed, I heard him say that he would return soon with reinforcements from Calenus.
My guards chained me to a wooden stake. They tormented me constantly for their amusement and, only rarely, gave me something to drink or eat. Each day it was harder and harder to remember that I had once been a man. When I saw you, my memories of being human returned, but lacking the power of speech, I could not tell you about my plight. After you freed me, I followed you, not knowing what else to do. I had no idea you were a mage, and I was overjoyed when, unexpectedly, you changed me back to a man,” said Tamas as he ended his story.
“Where do your people live?” asked Elerian curiously. “I have traveled this land for days without seeing another man, woman, or child.”
“We live east of here,” said Tamas, pointing to a gap in a mountain range which rose in the distance to the east of them. “Who are you and which country do you hail from?” asked Tamas in turn. “You appear to be a Hesperian, but I had not heard that they produced mages of any great power.”
“Nonetheless, northern Hesperia is where I make my home,” said Elerian, carefully skirting Tamas’s question, for he was not willing to admit to anyone in this land that he wore a disguise. “I followed the Via Magna north from Esdras.”
Upon hearing Elerian’s words, Tamas’s eyes widened. “No one travels that road in these troubled times,” he said in a surprised voice. “The country to the south of us is the abode of Trolls and water dragons. You must truly be a powerful mage to have passed that way unscathed,” he said in a respectful voice.
“Say rather that I have been very lucky,” said Elerian with a rueful smile as he thought back to his adventures of the last few days. “What will you do now that you are free of your enchantment, Tamas?”
“I can walk to my home in four days from where we now sit,” said Tamas. He stood up and took several shaky steps before he lost his balance and fell again. Evidently, he was still more used to going about on four feet than two.
“You will need a staff to help you walk, at least for a little while,” said Elerian rising to his feet. He sent a parting spell toward a branch overhead, separating it c
leanly from the larger branch it sprang from. It fell almost at his feet, and Tamas watched in wonder when Elerian picked up the branch and ran his fingers over it, the bark and small twigs falling away at his touch. Soon, Elerian held a smooth, crooked staff about five feet long and two inches thick in his hands. He passed it to Tamas, who took it gingerly, as if he was afraid that it might bite him. He took a few cautious steps, using the staff for support. This time he did not fall.
“I will be able to make much better time with this staff,” he said to Elerian. “Thank you for all you have done for me,” he said, somewhat stiffly, as if it bothered him to be in someone’s debt.
“No thanks are necessary,” said Elerian. “I think, however, that I should accompany you for at least a day or two. You will have difficulty walking, even with the staff, and unarmed, you will be easy meat for the first beast of prey that comes along.”
Tamas hesitated a moment, looking uncomfortable. Clearly, it pained his proud nature to accept any more help. There was also a hint of suspicion in his face.
“He does his best to hide it, but he does not trust me, even if I did help him,” thought Elerian to himself. He was tempted to leave the stiff-necked young Ancharian to his own devices, but decided to offer his help one more time. “I will leave you as soon as you can manage on your own,” he reassured Tamas, “for I am in a hurry to return to my own home.”
“Very well then,” said Tamas reluctantly. “We will travel together then for at least a little while.”
They returned to the road together and set off at a slow pace toward the east, away from the ruined city. Bearing in mind that Tamas could not see in the dark, Elerian led the way, but the Ancharian followed him easily enough, for the path that had been cleared in the center of the road was level and free of obstacles. When they came to the place where Elerian had slain the Mordi, he stopped to hide the bodies of the Goblins at some distance from the road. He also removed one of the dead Goblin’s clothes and brought them back for Tamas. The Ancharian reluctantly donned the leather shirt and pants, which were several sizes too small for his tall frame. The Goblin’s boots were hopelessly small, however, and Elerian cut them up to form a pair of crude sandals.
They continued east, their pace dictated by Tamas’s uncertain strides. “The Goblins have begun to clear this road with their slaves in order to reach the eastern part of my country more easily,” said Tamas pointing to the stumps of several freshly cut trees. “Mile by mile, they will work their way into our country, hoping to entangle us once more in their wars,” he said angrily. They traveled in silence after that, for Elerian wished to concentrate on the forest around him, and Tamas had his own thoughts to think about. Several times Elerian stopped to give Tamas a much-needed rest, for he was still not fully accustomed to his newly acquired human form.
Twelve miles east of the ruined city, they crossed a small river, walking across on an old stone bridge. Tamas’s pace slowed even more, and he leaned heavily on his staff, his thin face lined with weariness.
“He will not last much longer,” thought Elerian to himself. He left the road and began to range in the forest on either side of it, looking for a place where they might rest for a few hours. Before long, he discovered the ruins of an old farmhouse in the forest south of the road and fetched Tamas there. Wrapped in Elerian’s cloak, the young Ancharian fell asleep at once on a pile of leaves in a corner of the building.
Elerian did not feel especially tired. Dawn was not far off, and, instead of sleeping, he decided to hunt while Tamas rested. For the first time since starting his journey, he took his short hunting bow from its leather case and strung it. A slim leather case holding a half dozen arrows went over his left shoulder. Before setting out, he stood for some time in the ruined entrance to the farmhouse, questing with every sense for danger, but he saw and heard nothing to alarm him. Entering the forest, he walked silently among the trees until he came to a small meadow fenced in by saplings and bushes whose dense leaves formed a wall of green around the glade.
Elerian peered stealthily through the network of leaves and branches that separated him from the meadow. The golden rays of the rising sun sparkled on the silvery dew that covered the thick meadow grass. On the far side of the clearing, Elerian saw a fat, spotted buck standing with its left side exposed, and its head down. Instead of fading into the forest as the sun’s light spread across the glade, it had stayed late to take its fill of the lush meadow grass.
Noiselessly, Elerian set an arrow to his bowstring. In one motion, he drew back on the bowstring and released the arrow, which sped across the meadow and struck the buck behind the left shoulder. The buck leaped into the air and then fell lifeless onto the meadow grass. Cautiously, without exposing himself, Elerian walked around the border of the meadow to claim his prize.
When Tamas woke later that morning, the fine, toothsome smell of roasting venison filled the air. He sat up and saw that Elerian was cooking a haunch of meat over a small, almost smokeless fire that he had built in a protected corner of the farmhouse.
“Come and have breakfast,” said Elerian cheerfully when he saw that Tamas was awake. While Tamas ate, Elerian sliced the rest of the venison into thin pieces and after using a transformation spell to change them into hard, dry strips, stowed them in his pack. He had already made a pair of soft boots for Tamas from the buck’s skin. Once Tamas was done eating, the Ancharian donned his new boots, and after Elerian hid all signs of their presence as best he could, they set out at once.
The sky was a clear, cloudless blue, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, it became quite warm. Tamas seemed quite recovered from his ordeal. He used his staff only a little, and shod in his new boots, made better time than the day before. When it grew dark, he was still in good spirits and helped Elerian search for a campsite. They chose to spend the night in an open space between three close growing chestnut trees. Elerian and Tamas each sat with their back to a tree and ate cold venison. Elerian passed over his wine bottle, which he had filled from a small stream they had crossed earlier in the day. He smiled at the puzzled look on Tamas’s face as he took a drink.
“This tastes like wine,” said the Ancharian.
“It is wine,” said Elerian. “I made it when I filled my bottle.”
Tamas took another long drink. “There are advantages to traveling with a mage,” he said appreciatively. Returning the bottle to Elerian, he said quietly, “One more day will see me home. If you wish to resume your own journey in the morning, I can make my own way from here.” Without waiting for a reply, he wrapped himself in Elerian’s cloak and soon fell asleep.
“He wishes to be rid of me,” thought Elerian to himself with an amused look in Tamas’s direction. “I thought Urbanus was an exception, but it would seem that all Ancharians are aloof, proud, and suspicious of outsiders. He has told me nothing about himself or his people in spite of the fact that I saved his life.” Notwithstanding Tama’s desire to be rid of him, Elerian decided to accompany the Ancharian for one more day, just to make sure he reached home safely. “Then, I will happily leave this wild country and its stiff necked inhabitants,” thought Elerian to himself.
While Tamas slept, he stood watch most of the night, sleeping lightly for a few hours just before dawn. When he woke Tamas, the Ancharian seemed much refreshed. “I will leave you at the end of the day if all is well,” said Elerian to Tamas. After a cold breakfast of venison, they set out once more. The eastern mountains were close now, and by evening, they entered a wide gap between them, steep slopes rising up on either side of them. The road was in better repair here. Brush and grass had been cleared away to expose all the great, flat stones of the road bed, and the shoulders on either side were cleared of brush and grown over with short turf. Several miles later, the forest ended, and an open, gently rolling country that was divided into fields, pastures, and small woodlots began. Spaced out at long intervals along both sides of the road were farmhouses built of logs. Nowhere was there any sign of people o
r animals. Elerian turned to Tamas and saw fear and uncertainty on the young Ancharian’s face. Clearly, he had not expected to find the countryside deserted.
Elerian sensed Tamas’s thoughts as clearly as if Tamas had spoken them. “He believes that his people have fled, leaving him to his fate,” thought Elerian to himself. Feeling sorry for the young Ancharian, he decided to stay with him a little longer. “I think I will go on with you,” said Elerian casually. “Having come this far, I would like to see you safe with your people once more before I leave.”
“The choice is yours,” said Tamas, obviously relieved that Elerian was staying by his side. Side by side, they followed the road east. They stopped to look inside several houses, all of which had the look of having been hastily abandoned. They saw no sign of life, human or animal, and Elerian became certain that most of the inhabitants had fled the countryside, taking their livestock and possessions with them.
“Perhaps not all of them, however,” thought Elerian to himself. He had the uneasy feeling that he and Tamas were being watched by unseen eyes, but he said nothing to the young Ancharian, whose worried face betrayed his bleak thoughts.
They reached a small, rustic town set back several hundred feet south of the road, just as the sun was setting behind them. It was surrounded by a twelve-foot high palisade made of tree trunks with their ends sharpened into points. The wooden double gates were wide open, and when Elerian passed through them with Tamas, he saw an empty street made of hard packed dirt before him. It was lined on both sides with a number of log houses with thatched roofs. Everything was neat and well ordered, but there was no sign of any inhabitants.