Night Calls the Raven (Book 2 of The Master of the Tane)

by Thomas Rath

  Helgar reached out a stiff hand and lamely patted his shoulder. “There, there now, lad. Let’s not be getting’ all flustered again.”

  Teek sniffed and nodded his head, visibly forcing himself to regain control.

  “Good,” Helgar smiled. “Now, what to do? We have to be movin’ on to Calandra. We be havin’ business with the king there that can’t be waitin’. And this new threat seems important to be reportin’ too. It would seem that whatever it be that attacked yer home most likely be gone fer good now thinkin’ that it killed everyone. Otherwise, ye probably would have been seein’ it yerself.” Teek sniffed, and Helgar rushed on. “Ye be welcome to travel with us to Calandra and then when we be finished with business there, we will take ye on to yer home. By then, all those that be alive will probably be back and rebuildin’.”

  “And what if there are none?” Teek asked. “Will you let me go back to Thornen Dar and work the mines?”

  Helgar glanced quickly at Bardolf and then nodded his head. “Of course.”

  Teek nodded slightly. What else was he going to do? He had nowhere to go and no one to go to. It sounded like a good idea. Either way, he would have company and be able to appease his people. He tried to hold on to some hope. Maybe there would be someone there when he got back. Looking up at Helgar, he forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Teek marched along, keeping his thoughts to himself as he kept step with Helgar and Bardolf. They walked the dirt road, now turned muddy from the previous night’s rain, and were flanked by the imposing figures of the home guard. Helgar had made his distaste known earlier that morning of being coddled like a baby by the guard, but his argument fell on deaf ears as Rangor, the guard commander, still commanded the black-clad dwarfs to circle their prince when they left. Helgar had opened his mouth to protest but closed it again knowing that to argue was not going to change a thing. Though next in line to be king of the Dwarf people, Helgar could not make Rangor budge in following, what he called, the king’s orders.

  Teek looked skyward and saw Tchee circling lazily high above, knowing her sharp eyes were always watching him. She had squawked at him this morning when they started out, trying to get him to ride with her, but he had been a little more successful than Helgar in getting his way. He needed to walk. He needed to move his body and work up a sweat to help keep his mind off what had happened only days before. The wounds were still too fresh and he needed something to do to keep from falling into despair. Tchee seemed to understand that and so didn’t press too hard. She did, however, snap her powerful beak at the nearest of the home guard as if warning that she was watching.

  After the initial shock from their landing the night before, the guard and Tchee had seemed to settle into an unspoken mutual agreement of protection. Neither trusted the other around their charge but both recognized the added strength of the other should something unforeseen occur.

  “She’s a beauty,” Bardolf said as he marched along next to Teek.

  Teek snapped back from what he was thinking and stared at him blankly for a long moment before answering. “Tchee? Yes, she is. She’s become my best friend in the world. We look after each other.”

  “Aye, lad. And she will fer the rest of yer life. Rocs are rare creatures and to be havin’ one as a friend is somethin’ that not be a little thing.”

  Teek nodded. “I know,” he said softly, not adding anymore.

  Bardolf could tell he was not in the mood to talk, but also knew that to be left alone to think on what had happened was even worse. “How did ye two find each other?”

  Teek looked at Bardolf again almost startled that he’d said something more. “Huh? Oh, uh, well it’s kind of a long story.”

  Bardolf smiled sadly. Poor lad. “Good,” he said trying to sound cheerful and interested. “Because we be havin’ a long road ahead and I could be usin’ a good tale.”

  Teek sighed heavily knowing it was no use in trying to put him off. Dwarfs were stubborn folk and once they put their minds to something it was almost impossible to get them to let go. He spent the next hour going over his story of leaving home for his appeasing journey and how he’d found and rescued Tchee. At first he was rather vague, but Bardolf wouldn’t let him slip by without telling the whole story “right” as he’d called it. Finally, he got more involved in the tale and found that it was helping to keep his mind off of the immediate. Bardolf was careful not to let him get too far along so that it would not bring back the memories of recent days.

  Soon Teek was asking questions of his own about Bardolf and his life. A long conversation ensued that took all of the day and ran into the night where around the camp fire Helgar joined in with the reminiscing and all had a good laugh together. Though still feeling a great void within him, Teek started to feel a bit better and even laughed at some of the fool things Helgar and Bardolf had done as children.

  At night, Teek slept curled under a blanket and Tchee’s outstretched wing. She stayed aloft during the day and would disappear for short stints before returning to her circling high above. Usually, when she landed for the evening, she gifted the company a deer or a boar or an occasional fish, which lightened everyone’s mood and did wonders to their appetites.

  They stayed to the road during the day and camped next to it at night. The trees that were thicker around the mountains were thinning now as they headed in a northerly direction and the mountains started pulling farther and farther away to the west. The ground had become hilly, rising and falling about them and then spreading out on long flats before rising again. The countryside was filled with new life as the grass and flowers drank in the spring rains that fell off and on as they traveled along. Quite often, on the flats, the slightest trail of smoke could be seen in the distance signaling a farmhouse nearby but they met no one on the road. Teek asked about that, finding it strange that there was a road but that no on else was using it.

  “Ah,” Helgar explained, “most folk other than dwarfs don’t take to this road on account that it leads through the Underwoods, and no one wants to be going through there. Those wanting to get to Gildor from ahead take the road leading off west to Tigford and then take a ship around instead. It be much longer and cost more gold, but the risk be far less great.”

  Teek just nodded, remembering the story his mother had told him of her experience in the Underwoods. It gave him a chill just thinking about it.

  At noon on the third day, he could make out what appeared to be a large, lonely mountain jutting out of the ground ahead of them. “Is that Calandra?” he asked Bardolf, pointing to it in the distance.

  Bardolf laughed. “Oh no lad, we have quite a few more nights in the cold before we be reaching Calandra. That there be Bedler’s Keep.”

  “Oh. Why are we going there?”

  “It be in the middle of the road we be on, that’s why,” Bardolf answered with a grin. “It once was where the human king made his home. Then years and years ago, before I were even born and for no apparent reason, the king up and moved to Calandra. It be a massive place but not too many be livin’ theres about now. They still keep a number of troops holed up inside and a small town circles round it, but it ain’t a large city like be Calandra.” Bardolf winked to him. “And, of course, there be nothin’ to compare to Thornen Dar.”

  Teek smiled back and shook his head. “I haven’t seen anything other than the swamps but I would be willing to agree with you Master Bardolf.”

  “We’ll be stoppin’ fer a short time there when we gets there tomorrow so we can be resupplyin’ our packs fer the longer run to Calandra.”

  They reached the town commanding the east side of Bedler’s Keep just after noon the following day. Bardolf was right when he had said that it was not a large town. Though, to Teek’s inexperienced eyes it was somewhat formidable. Shops and houses were scattered about in a hapless arrangement, most pressing right up against the mountain wall where there was space, and the rest sprawled out in a slipshod conglomerate that lurched
forward under the protection of the silent keep above.

  The mountain and the keep, on the other hand, were massive. All day, Teek watched as the mountain rose higher and higher into the dark, clouded sky as the small band approached the massive structure and the tiny town dwarfed beneath. It was a huge peak that shot proudly into the heavens bursting right out of the flat valley floor.

  Teek scanned the castle on their approach and was bewildered by the rock walls, jutting spires and massive parapets that seemed forced together to create the great keep. It was beautiful and dark all at the same time. The keep’s color almost matched exactly with that of the mountain giving it the appearance of having been carved right from the stone. The sharp peaks and odd angles mixed with wandering stairways and walled buildings coalesced into a chaotic mass of stone and mortar that somehow appeared symmetrical and beautiful while at the same time speaking of death and foreboding. No colored flags or bright banners waved in the brisk wind in greeting as they approached, and by all senses it appeared that the massive keep was dead. How anyone entered he could not see, which only added to a growing feeling of confinement and dread.

  Tearing his eyes from its dull, lidless windows, Teek tried to concentrate instead on the village that clung to its base but his eyes seemed to always wander back up as if expecting the keep to suddenly drop down on him. It gave him a claustrophobic feeling.

  The town was busy with life as they approached, leaving the road and stepping onto its winding, anarchic streets. Though declared small by Bardolf, and shadowed by the imposing mountain, Teek was quickly caught up by the amount of activity and seemingly endless flow of people that greeted them as they wound there way around the shops and buildings. Everywhere they went, people called out from shop windows, doorways, and alleys offering a myriad of wares and services. He felt that he may have felt excitement by the experience but, like the castle, the people and the buildings seemed dark and menacing. He glanced at Helgar and Bardolf but neither seemed bothered or concerned, and he knew that he shouldn’t either, especially surrounded by twenty of King Thorne’s house guard and Tchee circling protectively in the skies above. But something itched at the back of his neck that made him uneasy all the same.

  Down a dark side alley, a muffled cry was suddenly cut off by the deft stroke of a well-placed knife as Teek and his party of dwarfs passed on. The pitiful gurgles of a life being ended were lost in the shouts of street venders leaving the murder unwitnessed and the passing group unaware as a pair of wild eyes suddenly caught sight of the Waseeni boy.

  Cutting away the purse of his latest kill, a disheveled and dirty figured slipped from the alley and onto the street quickly falling in step behind the passing band, careful to keep his distance but with a crazed excitement that almost went unchecked. “Well,” a high-pitched voice cackled, “look at what’s jis dropped outta the skies.”

  They didn’t stop but continued through the maze of buildings until reaching another road that led out of town in a northeasterly direction. Teek opened his mouth as if to question what they were doing but was cut off by Helgar who seemed to have read his thoughts and concern. “We won’t be stayin’ in the town this night lad. We’ll be settin’ up camp a mile or so down the road and then come back later fer supplies.”

  The crazy eyed man smiled, catching the conversation and watching as Teek and the dwarfs continued down the road and away from the town. “And I’ll be waitin’ when yous do,” he squealed. “And then I’m gonna cut ya like I promised. He, he, he. Cut ya and take ya’s eyes.” Looking at the stump where his right arm used to be his eyes rolled back and his body shook with anticipation. “And ya arm, too.”

  Teek stroked Tchee’s chest rubbing his hand along the soft feathers and soliciting a gentle coo from the large bird as the home guard busied themselves with getting the camp set up. True to his word, Helgar halted them about a mile and a half out of town in a small grove of willows that were just beginning to bud with the first weeks of spring. They had not been stopped for more than two minutes when Tchee’s large body dropped gracefully from the dark skies landing feet from Teek and cooing out a greeting as she did so. Both were happy to see each other after what seemed a lengthy day and spent long moments with squawks and hellos.

  When camp was set, Helgar called for two of the guard but four stepped forward. “Are ye daft then?” he ranted, knowing all too well that it was useless and that he would lose this battle just like he had all of the others since leaving Thornen Dar. “I called fer two guards only!” None of them blinked or moved to turn away.

  Helgar glared at Rangor who just smiled and said, “Ye should be givin’ thanks that I ain’t called for twelve, me prince.”

  Helgar just harrumphed into his beard and muttered something about his axe, Rangor’s head, and when he became king before turning away and almost bumping right into Teek. “Now, what be this?” he asked, his voice still gruff.

  “I was wondering if I might go with you,” Teek’s tiny voice replied. “That is, I have never really been in a city before, except of course my walks through Thornen Dar, but those don’t really count because I was blindfolded most of the time, or it was dark, and then today when we came through this one, but I really didn’t get much of a chance to look around, so I thought I might come with you and see what it’s really like.”

  Though having experienced more than his share of tragedy and sorrow on his appeasing journey, a feeling of wonder still gnawed at him when he came across something that old Twee had talked about in any of his many stories. The large towns Twee had visited and revealed to him in his tales had always amazed Teek, and though, according to the dwarfs, this was a mere village, he still wanted to see it for himself.

  Tchee made a loud squawk of protest but Teek was not persuaded. Eyeing the young Waseeni and then looking past him at the giant bird, Helgar sighed. “Don’t be worryin’ yerself,” he finally spoke to the bird. “We’ll be watchin’ after ‘im.” Then under his breath, he added, “There be enough guards fer him, me and a large group of criminals.”

  Teek refrained from hugging the stout dwarf, knowing it would have only embarrassed him, and shook his hand instead. “Thank you, Helgar. Thank you. I’ll be well behaved, I promise.”

  “Jes keep near me and yer eye on Helgar, here,” Rangor said in mock seriousness. “He be havin’ a way of getting’ himself into messes.”

  “You be goin’ too?” Helgar’s face turned a deep red and Teek was certain he would pull his axe and turn on the captain but, surprisingly, he didn’t say anything more, only waved his hand to Teek and then started toward the road headed for town. Teek said goodbye to Bardolf who had opted to stay behind and then gave Tchee a reassuring pat on her chest before chasing after Helgar, Rangor, and the four guardsmen who were already putting distance between them. Tchee screeched after him as if in warning and then gracefully lifted her great body into the evening sky.

  The village was just as wonderful and frightening as Teek imagined it would be. The crowds had not dissipated much since their passing earlier in the day and more than once Teek found himself bustled by a passerby. Helgar eyed the crowd dangerously and whispered a warning to him to keep his eyes open for trouble. “Many that be bumpin’ into ye will be havin’ their hands all through yer pockets and takin’ what they can find without ye feelin’ any the different.”

  Teek’s eyes bulged at the revelation and quickly felt for his dagger and the ornament Twee had given him before his death. He breathed a sigh of relief. All was where it should be, but from then on he was more careful and alert.

  Their first stop was to outfit Teek with some warmer clothing. His simple loincloth was plenty for use in his swampland home, but out in the early spring weather, he needed something more to protect him from the elements. A small shop run by a skinny man and his fat wife outfitted him nicely. The woman fretted over him, pinching his cheeks more than once and exclaiming what a cute little boy he was while her husband maneuvered deftly around her measurin
g his arms, waist, chest, and legs. It was like a dance they had spent years perfecting. Teek looked at Helgar for help but the dwarf merely smiled, a mischievous twinkle to his eye. Rangor and the guard, of course, were no help, standing to the side all business and threatening. Teek just sighed. This was not the type of excitement he was thinking of when he came to the village. Being mauled by a plump woman was definitely not what he’d been looking for.

  After innumerable pinches, pats and giggling comments, he was finally suited in some fine brown leather pants matched by soft, calf high boots and a white wool tunic that he cinched at his waist. A dark green, hooded cloak tied snuggly around his neck finished the ensemble along with more patting and pinching from the large woman.

  Though grateful for the warm clothes, he was happy when they were out of the store and away from the woman’s busy fat fingers. “Thanks for the clothes,” he said to Helgar as they exited with a last little pat to his rear and a wave goodbye from the chubby wife. “I think.”

  Helgar chuckled, his mood much more jovial now. “Now lad, what in the world are ye fussin’ about? Ye should be flattered. That were a fine specimen of a woman in there. If not fer her being already hitched, I might have asked her along as a companion to ye.”

  Teek stared at him in shocked disbelief. “What!”

  Helgar just howled with laughter, pleased with himself and with Teek’s reaction.

  Their next stop was to find the marketplace that was already beginning to wind down as the village became dark and the farmers started leaving for the night. The market was no more than a large, open area circled by small shops on the perimeter and crowded with carts and tables in the middle. A stable on the far side held the farmers’ mules and oxen that were used to pull the carts in and out of the city.

  Helgar and the guard quickly busied themselves with grabbing what they could from the remaining sellers to fill their empty food sacks and packs. The best vegetables and foodstuffs were sold in the early morning when the farmers first entered the village and set out their goods. Then they were fresh picked and hadn’t passed through so many hands in search of the best produce. But, for a bargain, the evening was the best time of day. The more sold today meant more room in the cart tomorrow for fresher goods that would sell quicker and easier than day old wares. Dwarfs were not that picky about what they ate, as long as there was plenty of it. So, shopping at dusk was ideal for them. Plus, the crowds were smaller so the guard could concentrate more on helping with the supplies than on codling Helgar.