by Garon Whited
“Thanks, Firebrand.” I rubbed her between the eyes. “I’ll be fine.” She nodded at me and looked to my right. I looked, too.
People were watching. Not staring, but watching me. Children were still playing, women were still turning and stirring and tending, the guy with the thing like a violin was still playing… but absolutely no one made eye contact.
It wasn’t so much they were watching, but that they were paying attention. Casually.
I wasn’t sure I liked it. But if I were in a wagon with a wasp, I’d want to know where it was. I guess they felt the same way.
“Excuse me?” I called. Several people did look at me then; it was only polite, I suppose. “I could use a little help in finding a stout walking stick. Anyone?”
One of the men rose the shade of a wagon and approached me. He made a sweeping, theatrical bow. It was nicely impressive; he was tall and graceful.
“I am Alivinus, and I would be most pleased to be of aid to you. Shall I fetch you a stick, or will you wish to select it for yourself?”
“I would be pleased to accompany you,” I replied. More quietly I added, “Especially if we might also find a convenient hole in the ground.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. This way,” he replied, gesturing for me to precede him. I walked in the direction indicated and he fell into step beside me; I went slow and took it easy. Every step was a small, dull pain in my shoulder, even though I walked lightly. He led me out of sight to a sort of latrine, obviously a new one, and I did my business there. Back the other way and we came across a stream; I drank and rested and washed my face a little.
“Have you a preference?” he asked, eyeing the nearby trees.
“Something stout enough to walk with.”
“You’ll be using it as a wizard’s staff?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” I answered, remembering the dryad-gift. “I have one, somewhere, and I’ll find it sooner or later. Right now I just want a walking stick. Without making any forest spirits angrier with me.”
“Well said, well said. But I recall a lengthy limb, new-fallen; not a staff in length, but longer than a mere cane. Will that serve you?”
“I think so, yes; let’s go look at it.”
“And shall I find a sling for that arm?” he asked.
“That might be a good thing,” I admitted; my shoulder was aching something awful.
We went back to the camp proper and he rummaged in the firewood for a moment. A few quick strokes with his knife and I had a serviceable-if-short staff. And Utai.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, glaring at me. “You should still be in bed, resting.”
“I needed to get up for a while,” I answered. “Besides, if I’d stayed there, I would have missed meeting this fine gentleman.” Alivinus grinned at Utai.
Utai, flustered, took my good arm and tried to lead me away. “You should still have stayed where you were.”
I held my ground. “But Alivinus was going to get me a sling for my arm,” I complained. “And besides—I can smell the food. And I’m hungry.”
That stopped her. Maybe it was the idea of a wounded man needing food, or maybe it was the idea of me being hungry now and getting hungrier… later.
“Oh, very well. Alivinus, fetch a sling for that arm of his and I shall bring him food.” He grinned and turned his head to wink at me, then strolled off. Utai watched him go for a moment, glared momentarily at me, then went off to find me something to eat. I, for my part, sat down on a convenient keg of something and rested.
Or tried to. With my guardians gone, a trio of children appeared before me as though they’d sprung out of the ground. Two boys and a girl, spread out between eight and ten years or so.
“Utai says you’re a wizard,” said the girl.
“—and a nightlord,” said the first boy.
“—but nobody’s suppose to say anything about it, ’cause you’re a guest,” added the second.
I looked them over. If there was mischief in them, it was honest and without malice. I could live with that.
“I am known as Halar,” I answered. “And yes, I am a wizard and a nightlord. And I don’t mind if you call me a nightlord, as long as you don’t let anyone else know about it. Who are you?”
“I am Anni,” said the girl, pronouncing it ann-EE, and bobbed a curtsey.
“I am Andel,” said the first boy, and bowed.
“I am Aramon,” said the second boy, the youngest of the lot. He bowed, then asked, “Can you do magic?”
“He’s a wizard,” scolded Anni. “Of course he can do magic!”
“But I want to see,” Aramon replied.
“He’s tired, you lackwit,” Andel answered. “It’s not polite to press.”
“I’m just hurt a little, not really tired,” I interjected. “I could do a few simple things, if you like.”
This was met with unanimous approval, but Anni and Andel tried to be casual about it.
“Well,” Anni mused, “if you want to, I suppose.”
I chuckled. She’d break hearts and slit purses when she was older.
“I feel like it. Can you find me a rock about the size of your clasped hands?” I no sooner asked than the trio disappeared with all the speed and energy of children. Was I ever really that young and energetic? How did I get so old?
In a trice, they were back, each with their own rock. I accepted Anni’s and looked it over; it was smooth and rounded and still wet. Andel’s was rough, while Aramon had apparently wrenched his right out of the ground.
“Well, Round Rock, what do you think?” I asked, weaving spells tendrils into it.
“I think I’m a superior rock,” it replied, in a piping, little-girl voice. “I’m all rounded and smooth, although I’d rather still be in the river.”
Mouths dropped open.
“I see. Well, Anni will be happy to help you with that. Andel?” I handed the round rock back to Anni and accepted Andel’s rock, addressing it. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Eh. I’m a rock. What do you want? I was lying there, minding my own business, thinking rock thoughts, and this young gentleman snatches me up and off I go to see you. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m very sorry. Shall I chuck you into the forest?”
“If you’d be so kind.”
I lofted the rock, left-handed, hard, up over the treetops. The movement gave me a twinge in my bad shoulder, but it was worth it. There was a faint, diminishing “WHEEEEeeeeee!!” as it vanished into the distance.
Three pairs of eyes looked pretty wide, too. I took Aramon’s dug-up stone and examined it.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” it asked back. “I had the good sense to be in the ground, but this kid still digs me up and hauls me over here.”
“Maybe we could put you in the stream?” I hazarded.
“Eeew!” said Anni’s rock; she almost dropped it. “He’s filthy!” it protested.
“And you’re so round, you’re practically worked,” replied Aramon’s. Anni’s rock gasped in shock and outrage.
“Hush, the both of you.” I handed Aramon back his rock. “Make sure this one winds up well downstream from Anni’s. I don’t think they get along.”
Aramon nodded frantically, accepting his rock with considerable care.
“I’m not going to bite you, kid.”
Aramon dropped the rock. Andel picked it up for him.
“All right,” I said, “go put them down where they belong. I’ll be here.” They dashed off, wordlessly, obviously amazed. I was pretty pleased, myself. Making a stone speak isn’t that hard, not really; it just vibrates, like the speaker in a stereo. Reshaping rocks into mouths that speak—that would be a lot harder. But just vibrating to make sound? No problem.
Utai came back with a bowl and a wooden spoon; I accepted these and set the bowl on my lap to eat. She hovered for a bit, as though she wanted to feed me, but I managed fine. Eventually, she
sat down next to the keg, her skirts billowing around her like a washed-out and scrambled rainbow. The food was okay; I’m not as partial to onion as the cook, though.
Alivinus returned before I was halfway through the bowl; Utai took charge of the cloth he’d found and shooed him off. She tied my right arm up in a very good sling. The arm was out of my way, or mostly, and unlikely to swing and bump and be a nuisance. I thanked her and went back to eating; I was hungrier than I’d thought.
When I finished, she took back the bowl and spoon, saying, “Will you have more? There is enough and then some for you.”
“I’m fine for now, thanks. I don’t suppose that anyone has found, ah, game? For later?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. But we will slaughter something for you, if you need it. Tonight.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
She fidgeted with the bowl for a while. “I watched you with the children.”
“Yes?”
“Do you… are you always like that? With children?”
I shrugged. “I can be as impatient and snappish as the next man, I guess. But I like kids.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think it’s because they haven’t lost the ability to find wonder in little things.”
“Such as speaking stones?” she asked, smiling.
“Or even skipping stones,” I replied. “Kids make me think hopeful thoughts.”
She nodded. “I can understand that. Will you return to my wagon and rest?”
“I think I will. Thank you.” She helped me up and I used my new stick as a cane; I felt tired.
“I see you have your sword,” she noted.
“Of course. A knight always has his sword.”
She smiled. “Of course. Does anyone… else… know about you?”
“As a knight, or a nightlord?”
“A nightlord.”
“A few have found out, yes. But they are people I trust, and nobody I trust is running a loose mouth.”
“Wise of them.” She opened the door for me and I went in, carefully. A brief walk, a full meal, and I was tired again. Being chewed on by demons really seems to take it out of me.
“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” she asked.
I settled down in the pile of cushions that served as a bed. “No, I think I’m good. Thank you, though. I’m going to try and nap some more.” She nodded again and plumped a couple of cushions for me.
“I will return after nightfall to see to your needs. Please, wait for me?”
“I will,” I promised. I don’t know why she asked, but, well, okay…
“Good. I will see you then.” She kissed my cheek and left.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22ND
Nightfall was worse than sunrise. Everything seemed to catch fire inside me and burn. It hurt—it hurt like having my bones dipped in molten metal and my blood brought to a boil. The worst of it was my shoulder. Every puncture the Thing’s teeth made were lines of pain, drawn deep in the fabric of my being with acid and fire.
When the sunset was over, the pain diminished, but it did not go away.
Then came the thirst. The hunger. Oh, yes. I was hungry. My body was demanding blood to fix the problems it was having, and demanding it now.
But I laid there and waited, breathing deeply—I didn’t need to, but it’s a calming thing—and tried to keep the upper hand on my hunger. It wasn’t as bad as I’d felt in the magicians’ circle. That had been starvation. This was intense, moreso than I’d ever felt as a mortal, but not beyond my strength to endure.
At least, for a while.
It was distracting, though, and made the minutes crawl by. Where was Utai? Why hadn’t she come yet? Come to that, where was everyone else? Why was I waiting here? I could be out in the dark, hunting rabbits, foxes, deer, those big cats—what were they called?… tuva, that’s right…
The door opened and Utai came in.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Hungry. Very hungry. Is there anything for me?” I asked; I know I sounded eager.
She nodded. “Yes. Will you come out?”
I grabbed my cloak, clasped it, and followed her, still favoring my right arm. Outside, there were six men, each holding an animal or two. Rabbits, yes, still alive and kicking. But the prize was a six-point buck with a crossbow bolt sticking out of one lung; it was still alive, but not by much. Three men were with it, looking haggard around the edges and extremely tired. I would guess they had dragged it back—still alive and kicking—from wherever they shot it. I hoped they wouldn’t get in trouble with any local lords.
“These are for you,” Utai said, gesturing.
I gestured, and the tendrils lashed out, sinking into the still-living creatures. They immediately ceased to struggle or twitch. A moment later, I had my fangs sunk into the neck of the buck, feasting on the blood like a starving thing. That took the edge off. I paused to remove my shirt and the bandage. The wound was still open and looked raw. I seized a rabbit and poured blood into the hole.
It wasn’t all I needed, but it was enough. My shoulder still hurt, but the rest of me was feeling fine. Even the stinger-cuts were gone.
Then I became aware… Surrounding me, there was the entire gata, silently watching. I stood up and looked back at them, turning to regard them all.
“Thank you,” I said.
Utai dropped a deep curtsey, and all the women and girls followed suit. The men bowed deeply. I took it for a “you’re welcome” and let it slide.
“The meat is edible,” I said. “Please, take it.”
Utai curtseyed again and the men who had been holding the prey/offering/animals moved to take up the carcasses. Gutting and cleaning them would be a lot less messy than usual.
“Will you remain with us, Lord of the Dark Hours?” she asked.
“Not tonight. I have a lot to do.”
“You are not entirely well,” she observed. I rubbed my shoulder gently; it still hurt.
“That is so. But I thank you for your aid. It will not be forgotten.”
The whole gata bowed/curtseyed again. It was eerie and unsettling. I’m not sure if I like it.
“Then we bid you good journey and safe return.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Utai. For everything.” Then I took her hand and kissed it. She blushed like a sunrise and I heard a group gasp.
It’s not easy being from another world where the rules of etiquette are different. I wondered what the hell I’d just done. But I ignored it, let go of her hand, and moved to mount Bronze.
“Lord?” asked Alivinus. “Will we see you again?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “If I can, I will send word of my coming.”
“As you will, lord.”
With that, I rang my heels against Bronze’s sides and we vanished into the night.
Well, okay, we just went away really fast, but it sounds good.
We covered ground for a few leagues before I pulled over and got my crystal out of a saddlebag. A few minutes later, I had a good image of Tamara; she was not yet asleep, although she was wrapped in a blanket. She sat up, looked out of the crystal at me, and waved.
“I’m headed your way,” I said, projecting my voice to her. “I don’t know where you are, though.”
She nodded and cleared a patch of dirt. With a stick, she sketched the northern keep and the river, then a road southward, one village, and then a little more road.
“Okay. I’ll probably hit the village and backtrack… but I’ll find you.”
She smiled at me again and blew me a kiss. I blew one back and waved a hand over the ball to shut it off. After that, Bronze and I headed north at speed.
To make a long trip short, I did eventually find them. I wound up going all the way to the keep to do it. I asked which way they’d gone, got pointed in the right direction, then just followed the road.
Where’s a road atlas when you need one?
I re
ined up when I saw the smoke from their campfire and Bronze and I walked the rest of the way. When we got closer and I could actually see them camped out by the roadside, I drew Firebrand and held it up, over my head.
Blazing or just bright? it asked.
“Just some light. I don’t want everyone leaping to their feet and screaming.”
Gotcha, boss. Firebrand lit like I’d dunked it in gasoline, shedding enough light to make us easily visible. The man on watch looked startled; I suppose that’s reasonable, considering I was still far enough away to be invisible in the dark. One second, there’s an overcast night in a lightly-snowing forest; the next, there’s a man on a bronze horse with a sword of fire illuminating him. I think I’d be a trifle startled, myself.
We went forward at a walk while the sentry kicked into a tent to wake someone. Even at that distance, I could see Raeth stick his head out—I’ve got sharp eyes, especially at night. Sharper than I’d realized; I could count his eyelashes. While he was blinking.
That was better than I remembered. Still, as I get older, I should expect changes… right.
A dragon’s eyes can see better than an eagle’s, boss.
“Good to know,” I muttered. I wondered what else was going to be odd.
Raeth, Bouger, and Tamara woke up to greet me, quietly. Tamara had warned them I would be arriving sometime tonight. Raeth and Bouger clasped forearms with me, then Tamara kissed me hello.
I was surprised at the number of people with them. Hellas and her son, Esmun, of course, but there were at least two dozen more men and a dozen women. It was a sizable party, complete with tents, a few horses, several mules, and a trio of wagons for goods and supplies.
“What’s up with all the people?” I asked, softly—we spoke in whispers to let people sleep—and gestured at the encampment.
Raeth grinned at me. “They are your people, my lord.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They have pledged themselves to your banner, my lord,” he clarified, nodding at a pole in the middle of the camp. I looked at it and thought I recognized a familiar piece of cloth. I went over to it and held it out.
Yep, that was my banner all right. Circle, dragon, and sword. I let it hang again.