The Chronicles of Nevin Reasoner: The Complete Duology

by Thomas Lombard

  When Anson approached the horses, all four of the animals turned their heads toward him and nickered. The other men kept working on the fire. A minute later, they heard a dull thump followed by a muffled groan. Orris jumped to his feet to get his sword, but was halted by a voice to their left.

  “Stand easy, Gents, and no one will be hurt…any further, that is.”

  Out of the trees appeared a man, armed with a long, narrow-bladed sword in one hand and a club in the other. Three men accompanied him, two armed with cocked crossbows and the other holding Corissa with one arm crooked around her neck and his free hand pointing a dagger at her throat. Corissa did not appear injured, but her eyes were wide with emotion. Nevin chafed at the sight of Corissa in danger, but stood frozen with indecision.

  “Let’s take it easy, Gents. None of us wants this fine lady to bleed on her pretty clothes, do we?” The man’s voice had an intimation of malice, accented by a leering smile. He wasted no time in declaring their intent. “Make no move while we search you and your packs for the lovely coin of the realm you bear. We plan to relieve you of the burden—to make your travels easier, of course,” said the leader barking a laugh. He shouted orders to his cohorts, “Kretch! Check their packs and their person for coin and anything of value. Delk! If any one of ‘em makes a threatening move, cut the woman’s throat.”

  Advancing toward the men, the leader asked, “Which one of you would be most disturbed if Delk’s dagger should slip?” Nevin’s glaring expression answered the man’s question. “Ah, the big one. It makes sense. If I could bully the others, I would have the women to myself as well, Big Man. But, then, I am a generous soul and I would share such pretty bounty with my comrades. Would you like to share this bounty, lads?” Delk gave a guttural laugh as he let a hand slip down from Corissa’s neck and grope.

  Orris and Nevin remained frozen. Both men had enough presence of mind not to make a move that would result in harm to Corissa. Nevin seethed with indecision. Part of him wanted to vent his fury, and part of him hoped that Anson would return and do something. Maybe the mage could disable the intruders somehow with a spell, if that were possible. The plausibility of this wish tended to confuse him further, on top of the unbridled emotion that was an awkward experience for him.

  Kretch ransacked the parcels and checked their clothing for whatever coin or other things he thought of value. He notified his leader when he had checked everything, then took a position where he re-aimed his crossbow to guard over Nevin.

  The leader took a step forward, surveying Nevin in a mocking manner, walking slowly around him and tauntingly patting him on the buttocks with the sword. “Now what should we do with the likes of you, Lord Oak Tree, and your companions? Perhaps we could take your horses and some of these fine clothes in your packs, though yours would not fit any man I know. And the woman—we should take the woman as well—although we will keep her fine clothes on her for now.”

  Nevin flinched at the threat to Corissa and took a step toward the arrogant ruffian, his anger at the boiling point. Orris reached out to stop him, the veteran soldier realizing the time was not right for such a move.

  Delk perked up at the suggestion that they would take Corissa with them. He sharply pulled back on her hair to lift her head and leered into her face menacingly.

  Nevin kept his eyes riveted on Delk, not noticing that the leader had walked around behind him and raised his sword with an eye to the tall man’s neck. Orris saw the man’s intent and was about to leap when four horses charged from the trees. The horses ran at the brigands and rousted them, the leader being knocked to the ground as he was about to swing his sword at Nevin. Only a quick recovery kept the interlopers from serious injury as the snorting, agitated horses reared and kicked.

  Corissa ran to Nevin’s side as Delk released his clutch to avoid the horse that threatened him.

  Nevin threw his arms around Corissa, instinctively shielding her from harm by horse or man. The leader lay sprawled next to them, dazed by the unexpected attack from the horses. The horse that had knocked him down, the large steed ridden by Nevin, pawed the ground and whinnied as if daring the man to fight back. The horses continue to threaten and rear over the brigands until all of them fled into the surrounding cover.

  Orris retrieved his sword and went to look for Anson.

  Nevin turned to console Corissa, but she soon regained her composure and resisted his embrace. “Corissa, are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, yes! Do not fuss over me. Check to see what they took from the packs.”

  “Corissa, I want to be sure you’re all right.” Nevin’s concern went unheeded as Corissa was already busy checking the packs. The curtness of her rebuff made him think he had overstepped his bounds. She was, after all, the King’s consort. He quickly brushed that off because they were still companions and he was dutifully concerned about her welfare. And she did run to him when she broke away from her captor. Nevin was confused.

  Orris returned with Anson, who was sporting a contusion on the side of his head. Nevin hustled over to examine the injury, pronouncing the damage as superficial and should not require special treatment. Relieved that there was no sign of a concussion, Nevin asked the mage what possessed the horses to attack the brigands.

  Anson smiled meekly but shrugged his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he explained, “I would not call it a ‘possession’ exactly, Nevin. The horses seemed to turn to me and…and…demanded an order, so I pointed and whispered to them to pick a bad man and knock him around. The animals seemed to understand my request and decided among themselves which man to take on.”

  “You mean you talked the horses into doing it? Did you use a spell?” Nevin was thrown by the thought of a spell involving animals.

  “No, no. It was not a spell. I used a spell voice, but I implored them much as I talk to you. I cannot tell you why it worked. I have never done anything like this before.”

  “It must be magic, my friend. You are more potent in magery than you credit yourself,” said Orris.

  “It’s not really that surprising and I doubt it was magic,” Nevin interjected. “Horses can be trained to do all kinds of extraordinary feats.” Nevin did not mean that as a put-down because he could have cited many famous examples of remarkable animal behavior in history, like Clever Hans the Counting Horse. He just felt that Anson’s communication with the horses was explainable on some basis other than magic. After all, their horses did not do anything outside of normal horse behavior. They just kicked and snorted and jumped about. They did not do anything really strange, like talk or fly. Still, it was pretty remarkable. Anson had not had sufficient time to train these horses yet they reacted as if they were highly conditioned. It was a puzzle, but if he gave it time he could think of a reasonable explanation.

  Corissa interrupted by suggesting that he and Orris repack their mussed parcels. She and Anson would recover the horses so they could move out right away, in case the intruders decided to regroup and return. She calculated there was about three hours of daylight left and they should use it to put distance between them and any pursuers. Nevin studied her as she moved about. She seemed completely recovered from her experience. Quite a woman, this was. The King was a lucky man.

  They were packed and mounted within minutes and the four riders were off again down the Public Road. Corissa told the others that the coin she had brought was lost in the fray, but no other important things were taken. Privately, she was relieved that the most precious item she carried was still safe. Corissa learned a lesson from this encounter, and she told herself she would have learned sooner had she heeded Orris’ warning about showing off their coin. Her opinion of the King’s soldier had gone up significantly, but the most important thing she learned was that the King’s token entrusted to her could not be safely hidden in her bosom. She chose a new hiding place. Better to submit to a personal violation, she thought, than to lose this possibly precious item.

  Chapter 2


  Dwarf

  It was well past dusk when the four stopped for the night. They had long passed any settlement, so they had to camp outdoors. At Orris’ suggestion, they chose a stopping place not previously used by travelers, some distance off the road and well protected by trees and undergrowth to screen a campfire. Unfortunately, the ground was damp and littered with uncomfortable tree roots.

  They agreed to stay in pairs as they made preparations. They would also rotate guard duty, so that someone would be awake in case they were set upon again. Orris and Corissa took care of the horses and firewood, while Anson and Nevin prepared the campsite and the evening meal. Anson decided to make as good a meal as possible to help offset the impending discomfort of a night on the damp, root-laden ground. He assured Orris their vigilance would allow them the luxury of a fire. Warm food and drink would help them settle comfortably for the night.

  Orris and Corissa returned with a large store of firewood, but all of it was wet from the recent rain. Orris seized upon the opportunity to remind his companions that this problem would not deter a good Armsman and he promised them a snug fire. He unsheathed his dagger, sharpened it and proceeded to whittle some of the sticks down to their dry centers until he had amassed a large pile of dry, thin shavings. He arranged some of the shavings into a carefully designed pyramid and proudly announced, “We have kindling enough to roast a pig. Well, a piglet, maybe.”

  “Now all we need is sufficient spark and a pig,” replied Corissa, though Nevin was not quite sure whether this was a jest or a complaint.

  “I should be able to provide at least half of that request, My Lady,” said Anson as he knelt over the mound of wood shavings. In a low voice, he uttered a few short phrases that no one understood, except Nevin, if only partially for its energy accordance. In less than a minute, a small flame appeared at the base of the kindling. Orris fed the flame with more shavings until the fire could accommodate the damp twigs and eventually larger sticks. Before long, a campfire rose with welcome heat and light and the four erupted in applause and good cheer at their success. A spirit of camaraderie had surfaced again amid the miserable conditions.

  The meal of smoked fish, brown beans and honeyed hardcakes was tasty and everyone ate their fill. The meal and the travail of their day left them all sleepy. Corissa worked out the order for guard duty. She would take the first shift and Orris should have the last one, since he could use that time to prepare the horses for the coming day’s ride. Despite the shortcomings of the damp ground, all except Corissa were sound asleep within minutes.

  Corissa observed her three companions as they slept. Orris snored loudly and drew her attention first. To her, this man was easy to understand. Even wearing a common surcoat and breeches in place of his uniform, his military bearing was plain to see. He was a career soldier with sworn fealty to King Lucan, and, like her husband, his duty would come first in his life. Her husband had always put his duty first, and in the end chose death over retreat in a hopeless battle. Her own unwavering loyalty to Lucan was in part a tribute to her husband’s full measure of duty. The other part was her dislike of her homeland, Gilsum, where she could not settle comfortably in the trivial aristocratic expectations reserved for women in King Meire’s court.

  Anson slept quietly by comparison, which in her eyes befitted his mysterious ways. Even his dress was uncommon, with a long dark tunic and patched woolen leggings. He was a mage and no one knew much about them. Based on what she did know, it was remarkable that a mage should care so deeply for the land and its people. At first, she did not believe he was truly a mage and advised Lucan to send him away, but now she was certain of this gentle man’s sincerity. She knew that he was not here for Lucan’s sake, as she and Orris were. It was his love of Antrim that held his devotion—a love that was matched by King Lucan, who had grown desperate for some way to save his people from the disastrous long war with Gilsum.

  Nevin was another matter entirely. He slept restlessly and often mumbled audibly about unknown things, as if he was arguing with himself. He was such a contradiction: so large and obviously much stronger than other men, yet he seemed completely absorbed by intellectual more than physical matters. He proudly thought of himself as a scholar and there was little doubt it was true; at the same time, he was uncommonly gentle for a man of such physical advantages. Could a normal woman ever love a man of such size? She found herself mentally comparing her height to his own, and laughed at the prospect of telling him that the extra clothes she brought for him were costumes for two men acting the part of troll in a comic play. She conceded that he was somewhat appealing, although the reasons why were not clear. He was tall among the men of Antrim, but so was she. She found the men in Lucan’s court did not like to look up into a woman’s face, and additionally resented her because of her Gilsum heritage despite the King’s favor. These were among the reasons she had no suitors, but Nevin seemed to be above such petty foibles. Though he was somewhat clumsy in his manner and overly sensitive to personal remarks, he had a comforting presence. She had doubts about his alleged high magery, especially since he claimed he was only a teacher before touring to Antrim. While he spoke of great marvels in his land, he was merely a “professor” of such things and not a conjurer. However, Lucan was more certain that Nevin possessed great powers, whether through vast knowledge or magery or both, and that Nevin could play a vital role if this meager plan was to succeed. It was evident that they were becoming increasingly reliant on him, yet this troubled her. Nevin seemed trustworthy, but enough so that should she tell him about the ring that Lucan had entrusted to her in secrecy? He might have some knowledge that could reveal potentially useful properties and know better when or how to use it, although Lucan said she would have to figure out when the time was right to reveal it. She looked again at Nevin as he stirred in his sleep. She had found other men attractive but could always divert her attention from them. It was more difficult for her to ignore Nevin; he seemed to need her help and took such pleasure at her company. In the midst of today’s attack she had sought his side, but wasn’t that born of fear more than romantic feelings? She had not sought a man’s embrace since her husband died, and, like many widows she had known, struggled with guilt over looking to another man for comfort. She could tell at first meeting that Nevin was not a man with much experience at intimacies with women, but such an intelligent man would surely be a quick learner if he stumbled into an opportunity.

  Corissa’s turn for sleep finally came. She woke Anson and retrieved her bedroll from the tree branch where she stored it to stay dry. She selected a spot and spread out her bedroll, smoothing it to locate twigs and stones that needed removal. Without thinking about it, she placed her bedroll between Orris and Anson.

  * * *

  Anson’s watch went by without incident, as did Nevin’s which followed. Nevin rousted Orris about three hours before sunrise. As Nevin curled back into his bedroll and fell asleep, Orris put more wood on the fire to bring some heat to counter the late night chill. The Armsman hunched over the fire, careful not to block the heat from radiating to his comrades, his soldier’s ear alert for unusual sounds.

  Nothing unusual happened until the first light of dawn when Orris heard a twig snap. He slowly rose and stepped away from the light of the campfire flames, then unobtrusively pulled his sword from its sheath. It was best not to raise an alarm until he was sure it was not just a deer or some other innocent animal wandering too close to their camp.

  Another noise, accompanied by a grunt and labored breathing, came from the area of trees off to the right. That was the place where they stored their food up a tree to keep it away from mice and other critters. Orris was sure it could not be an elf or a troll, since an elf would probably not make any noise and a troll would be noisier yet. As Orris stealthily stalked in the shadows toward the sounds, he could make out a two-legged body rifling through their parcel of food. The body was stout for a man, but Orris would take no chances. He crept close to the figure and smacked it
hard on the back with the flat side of his sword.

  “Stand fast, you blasted thief!” shouted Orris. The figure fell forward and spilled the contents of its arms, landing face down on the ground. It immediately got up and charged Orris, bellowing an awful yell, butting the Armsman square in the groin. Orris fell backward, his sword flying from his hand. The creature jumped on Orris and pummeled him with short stubby arms. Between the punches, Orris made out a hideous face marked with scars and scabs and a toothless scowl. The breath and body odor of the creature was awful and made Orris gag as he tried vainly to get up and shield himself from further blows.

  By this time, the others awoke from the commotion and came to the scene. Nevin pulled the little man off Orris with no trouble, but was kicked in the shin for his effort. Anson took control of the situation and said sternly, “Be off with you, dwarf! Go before I cast a spell that will turn your hair to fire. You’ll not get a second warning!”

  The dwarf scowled at Anson, but took no chances that this man could carry out his threats. The dwarf pulled loose and ran huffing and wheezing into the nearest cover of shrubs and trees where they could not easily follow. As he passed Orris’ sword lying on the ground, he scooped it up as he ran by.

  Orris was upright by now, brushing himself off and trying to restore some of his military bearing. He was not seriously hurt, except for his pride. Anson told him he was lucky to be alive since a rogue dwarf would kill a human, given the opportunity. Orris waved off the danger as insignificant and looked around for his sword. When told the dwarf had taken it, he erupted in a stream of curses and only Corissa could calm him. After the others went about picking up the mess and repacking their parcels, the four convened around the fire. Corissa was the first to speak. “We should move off the Public Road, since we have no coin to pay for lodging or other needs. We should alter our course to a path even less traveled.”