“What are you doing?” Bethany asked, her voice coming from the exact same direction that Shawna’s had earlier.
Shawna gasped and leapt off Dormael so fast that he didn’t have any time to react. She fussed with her shirt and brushed dirt from her pants as Dormael sat up and arranged his own clothing as quickly as he could. Even in the darkening twilight Dormael could see that Shawna’s cheeks had darkened with embarrassment. A smile cracked his face as he tried to answer Bethany.
“Ah…well, dear…Shawna was just showing me a…she was showing me how to…take someone to the ground, and put them in a wrestling hold,” Dormael lied, his mind racing between possible explanations and thoughts of Shawna’s soft skin. Shawna shot him an incredulous look and coughed with embarrassment, and he just shrugged slightly, unsure what to say.
“You were kissing. I saw you,” Bethany giggled, clapping her hands.
Dormael was mortified. If Shawna’s face was any indication, then she was about to have some sort of seizure.
“No! No, dear, we weren’t kissing,” she laughed, her voice shaking with embarrassment as she continued to straighten her clothes.
“Kissing, kissing, Shawna was kissing, missing, missing, now her clothes are missing,” Bethany sang, skipping around in a little circle. Dormael let out a laugh before he could stop himself, and they kept right on coming. He tried to call the girl down for it but the laughs just kept rolling out from his chest. Bethany continued her song, skipping in a circle and clapping in time with the limerick.
Shawna gasped, one hand rising to her mouth and looked to Dormael as if she expected him to say something. When he didn’t, she turned to the little girl and put her hands on her hips with a stern expression. It was somewhat spoiled by the spots of color on her cheeks.
“Bethany! Where did you learn that? That’s a very naughty rhyme, young lady,” she said, trying to sound authoritative. Bethany either didn’t catch Shawna’s tone, or just chose not to acknowledge it.
“I came to tell you that dinner is ready! I came and you were here kissing. That is so disgusting!” Bethany exclaimed, and before either of them could say anything to the little one, she was running back through the grass toward the camp, her laughter ringing out through the night.
Dormael’s laughing fit was just beginning to die off, and Shawna still stood frozen, staring at the path that Bethany had taken back toward the camp. Her mouth worked as she tried to form words, but nothing came out. Dormael almost fell into another fit when he saw the expression on her face. Dusting himself off, he rose to his feet and stepped over to her.
“Well,” Shawna said, raising a hand and indicating the direction that Bethany had departed in, “that was certainly a fine bit of parenting.”
“I’ll talk to her later,” Dormael said, still smiling.
“I should hope so. Now everyone will know…oh, I’m so embarrassed. How am I going to look D’Jenn and Allen in the face after this?”
“The same way you always do. Don’t worry on it. Things will work themselves out.”
“Things will work themselves out? Dormael, sometimes you can be so…” she began, but Dormael pulled her into another kiss, and her words died on his lips. He pulled her against him, and he felt her body melt into his as he disarmed her with the kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away from her and straightened her shirt out once again. Shawna laid her head against his chest and leaned comfortably against him, breathing heavily and quietly.
“Later,” he said, making the word a promise.
“Later,” she agreed.
****
Dinner that night was silent, uncomfortable, and practically loaded with unsaid questions and comments.
D’Jenn tried to hide a smile and pointedly did not look at either Dormael or Shawna, gazing into the depths of his cup of stew instead. Bethany hummed the melody to the dirty little limerick she’d sung at Shawna earlier, and Dormael thought that he could see Shawna’s cheeks growing redder with each note. Allen just smiled openly at both of them, making it a point to chew his stew loudly as he gazed at them, purposely driving their embarrassment home.
Dormael, in spite of it all, couldn’t keep a small smile from his face. He knew that he probably looked like a youth who’d just committed the best prank in the world and couldn’t keep it to himself, but he couldn’t help it. He imagined it didn’t make Shawna feel any better about the situation.
Finishing his stew, D’Jenn cleared his throat loudly and reached to the side. He picked up the leather scroll case and opened it, pulling out the documents and undoing the ribbon once again. Everyone settled in to listen as D’Jenn’s eyes scanned the pages, looking for the place where they’d left off.
“Alright,” D’Jenn sighed, straightening one of the pages, “We’ve already established that there is a piece believed to be in Thardin.”
“Yes,” Allen said, still smiling openly at Shawna and Dormael.
“So what is the next piece of this little puzzle?” Dormael asked, ignoring his brother’s smile.
D’Jenn murmured as he read one of the pages, and finally blew out a breath, “You won’t believe it.”
“I hardly believe any of this,” Dormael muttered in response. It was true – a lot of what the Mekai had said was hard to believe. It all sounded like some grand old tale to him. He’d have laughed if he hadn’t seen proof.
“Regardless, this one is going to raise a few brows. Want to hear what it says?” D’Jenn asked, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth.
“Read on,” Allen said, still regarding Shawna and Dormael with a wide grin.
D’Jenn cleared his throat and read, “ ‘There are no existing records indicating the possibility of a piece of the Nar’doroc resting in the Kansil’s home in Farra-Jerra, save an old accounting of heirlooms resting in the Conquest Hall. In an essay about the history of the office of the Kansils of Farra-Jerra, one Bedesar Gesariel wrote that there existed only three artifacts in the possession of the Kansils of Farra-Jerra for which there was no known history or origin. One such was described as “a silver bracelet too large for a wrist, possibly meant to be worn about the upper arm, set with a yellow gem and for which no record exists”.
‘Though there is no hard evidence to attest to the possibility, I did come across a book about the life of a famous Kansil in our history: the man you know as Tirrin Demantael. It was written that Tirrin enjoyed wearing the artifacts of his family and the office into battle, believing that the practice granted him the “luck of his ancestors”. I believe some credence should be placed upon the multitude of stories and songs that account the famous expedition Tirrin led into the Gathan Mountains, from which he, nor any of his heirlooms, returned.’”
“Oh, come now. Are we to chase Tirrin’s Lost Treasure now? Entire generations of Sevenlanders have chased that tale, only to return empty handed. It’s a lie!” Allen laughed.
“This is written in the Mekai’s own hand,” D’Jenn shrugged, “He wouldn’t have mentioned it if he did not feel it had some credence.”
“It does sound a little thin, D’Jenn. Perhaps the Mekai was simply making connections where only fables exist,” Dormael said.
“There’s more,” D’Jenn said, “Should I read on, or are you both going to keep on scoffing?”
Dormael shrugged and gestured for D’Jenn to read on. D’Jenn regarded Allen, who only shrugged and snorted. Finding his place on the document once again, D’Jenn kept reading.
“ ‘I understand this may only be conjecture, but upon searching through our archives here I came across the account of an Eastern adventurer who went on many expeditions into the Garthorin territory in order to study the creatures who live there. In his memoir was a strange account of how he came unexpectedly upon a winter gathering of the creatures and observed something interesting.
‘According to his story, he observed the Mountain Madmen gathering to offer pieces of meat and strange idols constructed from twigs and vines to a totem they had c
onstructed. He found it odd because it bespoke of a level of intelligence in the creatures that had previously been believed to be absent in the Garthorin. This was the matter he concentrated upon in his writings, but his description of the idol was what caught my eye.
‘In his account of the event, he described the totem as a vaguely man-shaped construction made of sticks, leaves, and uncured hides. Upon its head were a pair of deer antlers, and it was wearing piecemeal clothing apparently gathered over the course of years. He also described that tied around the neck of the strange totem was what appeared to be a piece of old, dirty jewelry set with possibly an amber or topaz gem. This description of the jewelry is very close to the account of the Kansil’s heirlooms in the previous essay I spoke of, and I believe that the strange behavior exhibited by the Garthorin may indicate that the piece has some strange power over them. It is worth investigating, I believe.’”
The companions grew quiet around the campfire. Dormael hadn’t studied the Garthorin very much, and hadn’t known that they had what appeared to be some strange religion. The thought of that was a little chilling. It made his skin crawl to think of it.
“So we are going off to search for Tirrin’s Lost Treasure,” Allen said, his tone no longer sarcastic.
“It appears so,” D’Jenn said, “I’m not sure what I think about it, but it does seem that the Mekai has gathered sufficient evidence to warrant a trip into the mountains.”
“Dangerous place,” Dormael commented, looking to Bethany, who had fallen asleep against Allen’s saddlebags.
“We’re well equipped to deal with it,” Allen said, “We’ve fought bandits, Necromancers, and demons so far. The Mountain Madmen should be easy to deal with.”
D’Jenn laughed, but he didn’t look any happier about the prospect of it than Dormael felt. Shawna looked back and forth between the three Sevenlanders, her brow furrowed.
“So, these Mountain Madmen…what are they?” she asked.
“You’ve asked about them before, if you remember,” D’Jenn commented.
“Yes, but we didn’t talk much about them. Why are they so dangerous? What is known about them?”
“Well,” Allen said, “They’re big, they’re ugly, they stink, and their favorite thing to do is hunt people down and eat them. Does that about sum it up?”
Shawna shot Allen a withering look. Allen only smiled in response, glancing between Shawna and Dormael. Shawna’s look faded into embarrassment and she looked to the ground.
“Not much is known about them,” D’Jenn said, “There are many theories as to their origins, but what you need to know is much simpler. If you see one, hide. If it sees you, run. If you have to, kill it.”
“Gods, thanks for the enlightenment, D’Jenn,” Shawna muttered.
“They’re strong,” Dormael put in, stopping the sarcastic interplay, “Their bodies are deformed, stunted in a way. They have large arms and shoulders, and are agile. From what I’ve heard and read about them, their senses aren’t as strong as a normal person’s. Apparently their sense of smell is not particularly acute, and their daylight vision isn’t as sharp as their night vision. And Allen is right – they grow enraged at the sight of humans. They’ll hunt you until they’re dead, and they have something like a loose pack mentality.”
“Do they look like people?” Shawna asked.
“Vaguely,” D’Jenn answered, “But only in the way an alley cat looks like a lion.”
“I’ve never seen a lion, D’Jenn.”
D’Jenn only shrugged helplessly, unable to explain.
“They have two arms and two legs, and they walk upright,” Allen explained, “But their arms are longer and larger than the average person, and they have larger hands, too. I have a friend that went on an expedition into the Gathan Mountains, and he told me that they have fingernails too, but they’re so tough and large that they might as well be claws.”
“Aye,” Dormael said, “And they’re mad – hence the ‘Madmen’ part of the name. Their faces are apparently animalistic – they have sharp teeth and snouts, almost.”
“Almost?” she asked.
“Gods, Shawna,” Allen sighed, “Why don’t you just wait until we get up there and you can have a look at one if you want. I’m sure it will be delighted to answer all your questions.”
“I’m only wondering what it is that we’re up against,” Shawna said.
“Everything and everyone,” Dormael said quietly. Everyone grew silent at that comment, and D’Jenn tucked away the scrolls and closed the leather case around them once again.
“I think we should all get some sleep,” D’Jenn said, rising, “We should reach a town where we can buy passage upriver tomorrow. Good night, all.”
“Good night,” Allen said, rising to his feet and turning toward his bedroll. He made to step in that direction, but paused as if something had occurred to him and turned back to Dormael and Shawna. “Are you two going to need some privacy tonight? I was only wondering because it gets awful cold out here at night during this time of the year, and there’s only one fire, you understand. But then, I guess the two of you will be keeping each other warm, yes?”
Shawna’s cheeks turned a deep red, and her eyes grew wide. Even Dormael felt a little embarrassed by his brother’s frankness – and irritated that if he’d had a chance at sneaking off with Shawna tonight, it was certainly ruined now. Dormael picked up a rock that was lying nearby and chucked it at his brother, who ducked and went laughing to his blankets.
Dormael sighed and looked over at Shawna, shaking his head. She smiled at him, but it was forced and conveyed a deep embarrassment, and Dormael thought there was some regret there, too. Yes, there was definitely no chance, not now.
“Good night, Shawna.”
“Good night,” she said, and she rose and moved off to her blankets.
Dormael sighed. He felt a little frustrated that he’d been interrupted with her, and definitely wanted to finish that little spot of business before long. But honestly, he felt better, too. He knew that it may not make things any easier between the two of them, but he no longer cared. Things have a way of working themselves out, and he’d needed the release of tension. Kissing Shawna had helped with that. It suddenly didn’t seem like things were so bad.
Bethany gave a little sleepy grumble when Dormael picked her up and moved her to her own bedroll. She looked so serene in her sleep, the way all children did. He placed a small kiss on her forehead as he tucked her in, then moved to his own bedroll and climbed in.
He slept contentedly that night for the first time in days.
****
Chapter Twenty Five
Easy Run
“I don’t understand,” Bethany said, scrunching up her face.
“Just reach out toward the rock with your senses, dear, through your Kai,” D’Jenn explained, while Dormael held a large rock in the grip of his magic. The rock floated about ten hands above the ground, spinning slowly. The three of them stood a few links away from the rock, Dormael standing beside D’Jenn, who was crouched down to Bethany’s level and was speaking quietly to her.
“Alright,” Bethany said, “now what?”
“Can you feel the magic holding it in thrall? Can you hear the song that’s holding it there?”
Bethany scrunched up her face, and Dormael felt her Kai brush against his experimentally. He was surprised at the amount of strength the girl had gained in the short time that Dormael and D’Jenn had been training her. Her strength in the magic rivaled his own, and given a few years would surpass his own strength and D’Jenn’s put together. He couldn’t remember ever hearing of any wizard that strong – at least one that hadn’t gone off into the wilds like old Kreslin.
Bethany’s head tilted to the side and she squinted at the rock, “I think so.”
“Good,” D’Jenn nodded, “Now, what you have to do is to feel the spell with your Kai. You have to get a good sense of the makeup of the spell and the tones in use. Then, when you thin
k you’re ready, you just send your own magic at your opponent’s magic. You have to imagine it like a spike, or a knife, that you’re going to use to pierce the fabric of the magic you’re attempting to defeat.”
“Alright,” Bethany sighed.
“Are you ready to try again, dear?” D’Jenn asked. It was the third time this morning that Bethany had tried to Splinter Dormael’s spell. She’d failed on the past two attempts.
Bethany nodded, and then she narrowed her eyes and stared at the rock. Dormael felt her Kai push against his, slowly and inexorably, attempting to force his magic away from the rock. He held it with little effort, resisting the girl’s attempt. Bethany let out a great sigh, and he felt the pressure abate.
“It’s not working,” she complained.
“You tried it a little too slowly that time, Bethany,” Dormael said, “Try again, only this time do it fast and strong, like you’re trying to stab something with a knife.”
Bethany grumbled under her breath, but suddenly Dormael felt a pressure on the rock that he hadn’t been ready for. The rock spun more quickly in the air, and almost flew off into one of the trees that surrounded the little clearing they were using for the lesson. Dormael was able to hold on to it, if only barely, and the rock resumed its slow spinning and came to rest in the same spot.
“That time you attacked the rock itself instead of my magic,” Dormael said, “D’Jenn, show her how it is done one more time.”
D’Jenn nodded, “Alright Bethany, pay attention. Listen to what I’m doing and watch me with your senses. It’s your turn again, after this.”
“Yes, D’Jenn,” she said.
Suddenly D’Jenn’s Kai shot into the spell, and Dormael felt his magic unravel from around the rock like a bubble that had been burst by a needle. His magic rebounded against him with a feeling like having a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, and it took him a second to regain the focus he needed to summon his magic once again. The rock suddenly spun violently and froze on one side, then dumped heavily onto the soft ground.
The Sentient Fire (The Seven Signs) Page 80