by Dave Skinner
Without bothering the kneeling man, he proceeded to carry the other two bodies, one after the other, gently, to one of the structures he had built. He added two packs to it. He then tied one end of a length of vine around and under the wizard’s arms and the other end to the loaded structure. He had to drag the wizard’s body closer in order to accomplish this. He used the vine to do it, making an effort to not lay hands on the body. Only then did he walk to the kneeling man.
“Bray,” she heard him say. He repeated it, but the kneeling man still did not answer. When the man did not respond to a third call, her companion placed a hand on his shoulder and said something else. This time the man responded violently.
From his kneeling position the man sprang to his feet like an uncoiling spring. His eyes were filled with pain. There was a crude knife in each fist. Mearisdeana thought he was going to strike at the first man, as he had the wizard, but he stopped suddenly, his shoulders sagged, his head drooped for a second. When he raised his head again the eyes held only sadness.
He knelt and lifted the dead body, carried it forward and placed it gently on the empty travel bed. The first man added the two remaining packs and weapons. The man, whom she believed was named Bray, took one end of the structure, lifted it, and set off. The other man did the same, following Bray, the body of the wizard dragging behind. Mearisdeana walked behind the wizard’s body.
Following a well-used trail they were soon into the trees. The travel beds moved reasonably well, but the wizard’s head would tilt towards a shoulder and skew the body until it got stuck. The first time it happened, Mearisdeana stepped forward and kicked the head free. Her wedding slippers had disappeared leaving her feet bare, but her dayskin was as hard as the polished grey granite it resembled. She could kick the body all day without ill affect she reasoned, and she would happily.
Mearisdeana had been apprehensive when they first approached the vegetation. The growth was huge, towering far above her head. It looked dark and sinister, but as they picked up the path and entered the gloom she felt her nervousness ease. It was cool beneath the plants—she was thankful for the cloak she wore. The area around her was amazing. A heavy, damp aroma she had never encountered assailed her. It reminded her of the smell of the spice plants her mother grew in the window box in their kitchen at home, only multiplied one-hundred fold. She associated it with the green colour of the plants. The area was alive with noises, and small, colourful, flying creatures could be seen flittering above her head. Her academic training asserted itself, as she started collecting and cataloguing many things she saw. She had acquired a handful of leaves and flowers before she realized how stupid she was being. She was stuck on a different world, torn from all she knew and loved, at the mercy of strangers with whom she could not even speak. She dropped her samples, kicked the wizard’s head again, and trudged on.
Eventually they broke out of the trees. The sun was starting to climb down the sky as they came in sight of a village. She saw cultivated fields at the sides of the road stretching away to the left and right. Small buildings built from logs were seen scattered about in the fields. The structures became more abundant until they entered an area with buildings on either side of the path which had become a road.
Chapter 26
Bray dragged the pole bed containing Shawn’s body to the village square where he stopped. Clearing the body of the other items, he lifted his brother in his arms and walked slowly towards Kat’s house. He did not know where Ran went with the other bodies, nor did he care.
His mind was replaying his race to save Shawn, as it had been since he regained consciousness. Had there been some way he could have saved his brother … a faster decent of the tree … a thrown knife … a thrown spear … a faster sprint forward? What if he had run towards Ran instead of Shawn? The scene played itself over in his head again and again, and each time he lost the race.
Kat was on the front porch. Her face was white. He could barely make her out through his tears. She held the door for him as he carried Shawn into the cabin and laid him on his bed.
“I could not save him Kat. I tried. Believe me, I tried, but I failed.”
Kat did not seem to be listening. She crumpled to the floor beside Shawn’s bed, her body thrown protectively across his. The anguish of her cries tore into Bray. A number of women came into the house, told him to leave, and then pushed him outside.
Bray sat on the steps, his mind in turmoil. He heard people come and go, but he paid no attention until he felt someone standing in front of him. He raised his head. Lee. Her slap hurt his heart as much as it did his face.
“You saved Ran and let Shawn die,” she cried. “How could you do that? He was your brother … he was your friend … your only friend, and you let him die! You are dead to me. I hate you. I hate you! My mother hates you. Stay away from us!” She ran into the house.
Sometime later Waycan appeared. He led Bray away.
Chapter 27
Waycan was in his garden when his housekeeper, Ta’Char, came to find him. “Death,” was the only word she said while pointing to the front of the house. Ran stood in the road waiting for him, beside a travel bed containing two bodies, what looked like a third body lay in the dirt behind and beyond that was a stranger in a Tawshe hunting cloak.
The person had the hood up so features were not evident, but Waycan knew it was a stranger because no Tawshe would wear a hunting cloak in this heat. The question was why Ran had allowed the stranger to live. It was out of character. He was like his father in that way, but the more immediate concern was the bodies.
“Who?” Waycan asked.
“Afra and Nefty.”
“What about Shawn?” There was hope in his voice.
Ran indicated no. “Bray took his body to Kat.”
Waycan’s shoulders slumped noticeable as his complexion greyed.
“Who did this?” He wanted the whole story, but there were too many things to do.
Ran pointed at the other body lying in the dirt. “Wizard. Some sort of spell involving sacrifice, ours not his. Bray killed him.”
“And the stranger?”
“That might be better explained indoors.”
“Okay, come with me.” He saw Ran motioned the stranger to come as he followed Waycan into the house. Once inside, he motioned for the stranger to remove her hood. As it fell back Waycan felt awe. He had never seen a creature like this in all his years of travel, and had rarely seen anything this strange. It was definitely female, and covered in what looked like gray stone scales. Despite the scales or perhaps because of them, the creature was striking.
“She does not understand our language, but appears to be intelligent,” Ran informed him.
“Is she a servant of the wizard?”
“No, I believe she was brought here by the spell the wizard was performing. I would swear she was not there when I first awoke.”
Waycan considered what he had heard. He was anxious to hear Ran’s story, but first he had to deal with the deaths.
“I want you to stay here. Use the back bedroom and have Char fix some food. I will return as soon as I can.”
It was late by the time he had soothed the emotions caused by the loss of life, retrieved and brought Bray back, searched the wizard’s corpse, and then witnessed its cremation. Bray and the stranger were both asleep.
“Ran, let us leave the telling of your story until the morning. Return here for breakfast and we will review the happenings.”
Ran nodded and made his way out into the night.
***
Ran walked blindly back to the small house he and his friends had used. It was dark and silent. He found some ale in the cold room. It had belonged to Nefty. He drank a large glass and then went to bed. But sleep eluded him.
The death of Nefty, Afra and Shawn was painful, but should not be causing the anxiety he was feeling. He had grown up with them. They had been classmates, and then squad mates. Over the last year th
ey had fought skirmishes and battles together. They had always won. He was their leader; they should not be dead, because he was the best.
He got back up and poured the rest of the ale. It didn’t help. His mind and body felt empty. He didn’t believe it was the deaths that caused it. The Tawshe often saw dead. Since childhood he had been taught that death was only one false step away. The Tawshe value life, but they are also realists. Death happens. Ran had faced death before, but for some reason this was affecting him differently. There was emptiness inside of him, something missing, like a weasel had chewed a hole in his chest.
For years Ran had been told he was one of the elite. He had come to believe it. The Tawshe were the finest fighters in the lands around the lakes, perhaps anywhere, and he was one of their best. Aside from Bray, no one had ever stood against him and won. In The Games he had beaten fighters with twice as much experience. On the Bearclaw frontier he had fought and killed some of their fiercest warriors. He had come to think of himself as invincible.
Was that the problem?
Today he had stared death in the face in a way he had never before experienced. He had been without control, unable to defend himself, unable to move, unable to fight, and that was something he found frightening.
The wizard had defeated four Tawshe with a wave of his hand. Shawn had recommended caution when approaching, as was his way, but Ran had dismissed his concerns. He saw only one intruder in a place where others could not hide. Four Tawshe against one man, the result was assured, or should have been. If one man could defeat four of the finest warriors, then what did it mean to be a Tawshe? Always before, Ran had known the answer to that question. There had never been doubt in his mind. Now … now he had no answer… now he was lost.
Chapter 28
“Are you well?” Waycan asked when Bray stumbled.
“Feeling a little weak,” Bray replied. “I am probably just tired. I have not been sleeping well.”
“Has the feeling happened before, in the last few days?”
“No, this is the first time. I will be fine. We should continue on.”
“How about you, Ran?” Waycan asked. If anyone was feeling ill, he would have thought it would be Ran. For the past three days he had looked drawn and disturbed. Waycan put it down to losing his close friends, but perhaps it had something to do with the spell that had knocked them out.
“I feel fine,” Ran answered in his usual brusque manner. He turned and started leading the three of them along the trail again.
The boys had told Waycan their stories three mornings past. He had studied the scroll they had found in the wizard’s cloak before he burnt the body and all of its possessions—the advised practice for dealing with those involved with the dark art, and this was definitely the dark arts.
After three days Waycan was still at a loss as to the true nature of the wizard’s spell. It had been in a language he had not encountered, and had not been able to decipher. From the boy’s stories, he had to conclude that Ran’s assumption was correct. The spell had caused Mearisdeana to be pulled across the void to this world, but why? He had heard of wizards enslaving demons from other dimensions to do their bidding, but Mearisdeana was not a demon, despite her strange appearance.
Char had been teaching her the common tongue for three days now. She was a fast learner, and could already carry on a broken conversation. But she had more questions than answers. She had no idea why she had been pulled here, and had added little to his understanding of the problem. He had left her back at his cabin with Char while he and the boys returned to where the incident had happened.
Ahead of him, Bray stumbled again and fell to his knees. “I cannot go on, Waycan. I have no strength in me. Leave me, I will rest here, and then return to the village.”
“Nonsense, boy, rest and then we will return with you. Tomorrow is another day.”
Waycan had to help Bray back to his feet and had to support him as they started the return trip to the village.
“I am starting to feel better,” Bray announced after a small time had passed.
“Should we continue towards home?”
“I think I can make it to the meadow now. Let us try again.” They turned and headed off in their original direction, but again Bray was overcome.
“We will try again another day,” Waycan decided. “This may have something to do with the knockout spell the wizard tried to use on you; if so, a few more days may see the effect gone.”
***
Mearisdeana’s discomfort had been growing for most of the morning. She was dizzy and weak. Char had given her water, something that usually made her feel marvelous, but not this time. It had seemed to work for a short while, but then the illness returned. She had to excuse herself from the morning language lesson and return to her bed. She was asleep when Waycan arrived for the midday meal. When she awoke, Mearisdeana felt recovered so did not mention the incident to her host. She decided it was probably caused by one of the strange foods she was eating. It might be best to go easy on the unprocessed fruits and vegetables, a shame really because she enjoyed those most of all.
Bray worked with her on the language lesson in the afternoon. For some reason she felt good when he was around. She liked him. His easy manner reminded her of Adamtay. When he was close, she could think about her lover without her thoughts leading to feeling hurt and alone. She felt a link with Bray that she did not feel with Ran, although physically Ran reminded her more of Adamtay than Bray did. Adamtay was large and powerful. He radiated strength in the same way Ran did.
“You are different from the other Tawshe,” she said to Bray during a break.
“I am not Tawshe. I am Nadian.”
“Nadian?” She was getting the hang of asking a question.
“It is a city on North Lake. I was adopted by Kat when I was stranded on Tawshe lands after my father was killed.”
Mearisdeana had asked about the term ‘lake’ numerous times, but could not understand the answer. “How old were you?”
“I was eight years. I have been here for ten now.”
“Was there no way for you to return home to … Nadian?”
“Nadia is the city. Nadians are people from Nadia. And, to answer your question, I believe my grandfather would have sent a ship for me if he knew I was alive, but Waycan refused to inform him.”
“Do you ever think about returning to Nadia?”
“All the time and I will some day when I am a trueone and have retrieved my father’s swords.”
“Where are they, these swords?”
“A pirate has them, I believe.”
There were too many unknown words in the last few sentences for Mearisdeana to understand exactly what Bray was saying. ‘Ship’, ‘trueone’ and ‘pirate’ were all unknown to her. She was trying to figure out the correct way to ask about them when Bray asked a question.
“Do you think about returning to KaAn?”
“Yes, that thought is with me at all times. I am sure that my beloved will come for me.”
Bray must have sensed the discomfort his question was causing because he asked something different. “What did you do on your world?”
“I was a … scientist. I do not know your word for it. It is someone who looks for answers to questions about all kinds of topics. I specialized in the growing of food plants—agriculture—we call it.
Bray looked puzzled. “How many questions can you ask about growing food? Every home has a garden here. There are many discussions over the garden fences, but not many deal with how the plants grow.”
“My world is different. Plants do not grow easily anymore. I believe they did at one time, but our sun has become hotter and harsher. All food is now grown under defused sunlight using small amounts of concentrated fertilizers. I figure out what combinations to use to get the best growth.”
“What will you do when you answer that question?”
“I will ask another question.”
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“And that is how you will spend your life, asking questions?”
“Finding answers to questions we do not know the answers to. I cannot think of a more fulfilling way to spend my life. I am sure there are things you do not understand about your world also.”
“It is a strange concept to me. I’ll have to think about what you’ve said.”
“That is the first step.”
***
“Afra was in that circle, Nefty in that one. Shawn over there and I was here,” Ran explained.
“And where was the wizard? How did he move?” Waycan asked. He was trying to picture exactly what had happened and how the design had been used, hoping it would help him understand more than he did.
“I think he woke us all at the same time. All of the sudden I could hear mumbling. I looked and saw the wizard standing in front of Afra who was probably telling him his thoughts on his lineage. He always had quite the mouth on him, that boy.”
“And the wizard was doing what?”
“He was saying something in a sign-song manner. Then he … cut Afra’s throat and started walking towards Nefty. He started the sing-song thing again, finished as he reached Nefty, cut his throat and started towards me. He was part of the way to me when he got distracted. He made the same hand motion he had used to stun us and continued on. He was in front of me when he finished his chant or whatever it was, but instead of cutting my throat he disappeared. That is all I saw until Bray knocked me over. I landed on my side and saw Bray kill the wizard. Some sort of force knocked me out. When I came around, I couldn’t see anyone. I was struggling with my bonds when I saw Bray stand up and walk over that way. I know now he was going to Shawn’s body. A short time later I saw Mearisdeana stand up. She retrieved the dagger from the wizard and freed me.”