SongMaster's Realm

by Wolfram Donat

  It had been dark for some time before Frayne called a halt. They dismounted and led their horses for some distance off of the road until they found a clearing. Two of the soldiers, whom Jared reminded him were Oren and Step, built a fire, while Frayne and Gaen tended the horses and a small group disappeared into the bushes, bows drawn, presumably to hunt for dinner. Joel could not help but notice that Athena left with the hunting party.

  The trio of hunters soon returned with four large birds that resembled turkeys, and the birds were soon cleaned and cooking on a spit over the fire. The smell of the roasting fowl made Joel’s mouth water, and he crowded around the fire with the others as it cooked. Fender showed him how to construct a makeshift plate out of a piece of bark, and it wasn’t long before he was greedily devouring the poppil, as Jared called it.

  After dinner everyone had settled around the fire when Frayne looked at Joel. “Prince Jared tells me you are quite a wizard, SongMaster,” he said without preamble. “Could you show us some of this unusual magic he has been talking about incessantly since we left?” The others in the party looked at him expectantly.

  Feeling rather more self-conscious than he ought to, Joel unzipped the case and brought out his guitar. “What would you like to see? I’m still quite an amateur at this thing, though I suppose the practice is good for me.”

  To his surprise, Athena spoke up. “Frayne told us that we were going on a quest to find a magic book. Can you show us this book, or what it looks like?” Next to her, Luana nodded, as the other soldiers.

  Helplessly, Joel looked at Fender. He had no idea how to proceed. Fender shrugged almost unnoticeably, letting him know he was on his own.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll try. I’ve never done anything like that before, so I don’t know what’ll happen.” Remembering the King’s audience chamber, he added, “You might want to sit back a bit.” Nobody complied; if anything, everybody seated around the fire leaned forward as Joel strummed a minor A.

  The colors that immediately surrounded his hands were a muted purple. For some reason, he felt he wanted the color brown, so he shifted finger positions and strummed a C minor. Obligingly, the colors shifted to a light tan.

  Joel smiled slightly but didn’t lose his concentration. Maybe I can get the hang of this, after all, he thought. Now I need to figure out how to play a book. He continued to pick out the notes of the C minor as he thought. The muted lights surrounded his hands and arms, but did nothing more, as if waiting for him to proceed.

  Suddenly he remembered an old medieval hymn he had once learned. Written in a Doric tonality, it had always reminded him of books and scholars and monks hunched over writing tables. He pulled it to the front of his mind. He knew that he only wanted to show the Duran, not to materialize anything, so he began to play, but very softly, and only the melody of the hymn, not the various harmonies. As he picked out the notes, he held in his mind the image of a movie screen, with a book showing on the screen.

  The now-familiar light show changed immediately. Streaks of light shot from Joel’s hands and formed a glowing cloud in the air above the fire. Buried in the middle of the cloud was a brown smudge that slowly began to coalesce into the shape of a book. Since Joel wasn’t sure what to do next, he continued to play and watch the shape grow more defined as he concentrated on making the image grow sharper.

  Without warning, the ‘scene’ buried within the cloud changed. The book shape disappeared and was replaced by the crystal-clear image of a small room. In the center of the room was a small pedestal, and on this pedestal was a large book bound in what appeared to be leather. With a shock, Joel recognized the scene from his dream. He wanted to stop playing, but something compelled his fingers to continue.

  As his playing continued, he and the others watched as a small girl entered the room and walked slowly toward the book. She stopped in front of the book, but then instead of bending to read from it as she had so many times in Joel’s dream, she looked up out of the cloud-scene straight at Joel. Shocked, he noticed for the first time that her eyes had no pupils, and her gaze held him frozen as chills ran down his spine. Her mouth opened as if to say something.

  Something flashed across Joel’s field of vision. Whatever it was knocked his guitar from his hands, and the lights and smoke that had held the group transfixed immediately vanished. As the others stirred as if waking from a dream, Joel shook himself and stared at his guitar lying on the ground as if it were a poisonous snake. He had the uneasy feeling that he had just narrowly missed an extremely unpleasant event.

  J’Mart was standing next to his guitar, making a great show of brushing himself off. “There! That’s taken care of! Damned if I’m going to let anyone pull that while I’m around.” The little man almost seemed as if he was talking to himself. He looked up as Joel approached.

  “Wh- What the hell happened?” stammered Joel.

  “That,” answered J’Mart, “was somebody’s attempt at trans-dimensional communication, only it probably would have killed you. I assume that’s the girlie that everybody’s seeing in their dreams lately, and I don’t know if that was her way of saying ‘hello,’ but if I hadn’t stopped it I don’t know what would have happened.” The Ramiken paused and looked around. “You might want to talk to your friends there before they think you’re completely loony.”

  Joel looked around. The other members of his group were staring at him, and he realized that they had been watching him apparently talk to the air next to his guitar. “Thanks,” he said to J’Mart. “I don’t know what happened, but I owe you one.” Then he turned to the other members of his party. “I’m sorry. The Ramiken I travel with, J’Mart, apparently stopped what could have been a disaster. For me, at least.” Still shaken, he sat down abruptly and rubbed his face with his hands.

  Frayne stepped forward into the resulting quiet. “All right, I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Let’s get some sleep so we can put some miles behind us tomorrow.” He inspected Joel. “Are you all right, SongMaster?” Joel nodded. “Let’s get some rest, then,” the short leader said, and left him alone with Fender and J’Mart.

  Fender was apologetic. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t realize what has happening until it was too late. Luckily J’Mart saw it too and was faster than I was.”

  “That’s all right, Fender. I didn’t know what was going on. I still don’t know. Could one of you please explain it to me?”

  “I told you before,” answered J’Mart. “Somebody was trying to talk to you, cross-dimension.”

  “And that’s dangerous?”

  Fender broke in. “Trans-dimension communication takes a lot of power, Joel, both for the sender and the receiver. If the receiver is not ready, or isn’t powerful enough, the power involved in the transfer could conceivably kill him or her.”

  “So who’s trying to talk to me? Or kill me? Ysuldur?” Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Joel was feeling a bit indignant.

  Fender and J’Mart looked each other. Finally the wizard answered. “It’s possible. It’s also possible it was from whoever has stolen the Duran. I’m sure you recognized the scene that was showing the same as I did, which is what leads me to believe it was from the Duran’s keeper.”

  “And if Ysuldur wanted to kill you,” continued J’Mart, “He wouldn’t need to bother with trying to talk to you through your bug-eyed girlfriend, there. One well-placed lightning bolt would do the trick.” He smiled at Joel’s expression. “Sorry. Just telling it like it is.”

  “I think that’s enough for tonight, Joel,” said Fender. “We should take Frayne’s advice and get some sleep. Hopefully we’ll make some distance tomorrow.” Joel was only too happy to oblige, and he was soon asleep by the fire, exhausted from the day’s ride.

  The next few days passed without incident as they rode from sunrise to a little after sunset each day. Nobody asked Joel to play his guitar, and he was content to leave it in its case. The memory of his last experience with it and the knowledge o
f what might have happened stayed with him, making him uneasy about opening the case.

  The countryside that they were traveling through was beautiful, and reminded Joel of the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. Broadleaf trees alternated with the occasional conifer, and the terrain was hilly, but not mountainous. There were plants and flowers he didn’t recognize, but he had never been much of a naturalist back home, so it didn’t surprise him that the flora was unfamiliar. The animals he saw in the distance and that he had for dinner in the evening were also unusual, but not grotesquely alien.

  As time passed, he found himself learning more about his traveling companions. He tended to ride by himself, lost in thought and watching the scenery, but Jared and Fender seemed to make a point of riding up to him and drawing him into conversation with the different members of their party. Bowen kept to himself for the most part, but Joel discovered that he was probably the best archer in Asria. Oren was nice enough, but rather aloof. After being introduced to Step, Joel and the little man quickly became friends. Step had a dry sense of humor that appealed to Joel. Even J’Mart seemed to warm up to him, and before long Joel was repeating the Ramiken’s remarks to Step so that J’Mart could join their conversation. Step didn’t seem to find it odd to be talking with an invisible entity that only Joel and Fender could see or hear.

  Joel soon learned that Luana was engaged to a blacksmith in a town called Spannung, but that she had joined the King’s Scouts before meeting the man, so she could not marry him until she had served her assigned duty. Membership in the Scouts was entirely voluntary, but contractual: upon signing up, you were required to serve for at least ten years. Joel also learned that Athena was unattached, a fact that pleased him immensely for some reason. Riding with her, he learned that she had joined the Scouts after her family was killed by a contingent of Sarth’s warriors when she was fourteen. She had served for thirteen years and had no plans to retire.

  For her part, Athena was curious about Joel’s world and his music. She quizzed him endlessly about Earth and its society, and about how he had made a living with his music. Joel could tell that she wanted to see and hear more of his magic but didn’t want to ask. He was still leery of bringing out his guitar again, however, so he didn’t volunteer, either.

  It was the afternoon of the fourth day of riding, and Joel and Step were laughing as if they were simply riding through the woods on a pleasurable day ride. Joel’s initial soreness from riding had disappeared after the first day, and he felt comfortable in the saddle again. Step, however, likened his riding to a sack of potatoes and often gave him grief about it. When the two of them became too disorderly, Frayne had a tendency to turn in his saddle and frown slightly at them, and it was this fact they were laughing about.

  Suddenly Joel heard a strange hissing noise. This was closely followed by a ‘thud,’ as if someone had hit a sack of grain with a two-by-four. Joel was trying to place the sound when, directly in front of him, Oren slumped in his saddle as if he had suddenly gotten very tired. Joel barely had time to register the fact that an arrow shaft with wicked-looking black fletching was protruding from Oren’s back when the woods behind them seemed to explode with movement.

  He frantically wheeled his horse around as the others in the party did the same to face this unexpected threat. Coming at them was a group of about twenty creatures that looked like a cross between a snake and a man. Their sharp teeth were bared in various forms of snarls and war cries, and they were dressed in black leather armor that covered them from head to toe. He had the presence of mind to duck as another arrow flew past his head, and then the melee was all around him.

  He had been given a sword upon their departure, but had no time to draw and wasn’t sure how to use it. He barely had time to register the fact that he was in danger when he found himself face to face with one of the creatures. It snarled at him and drew its sword back, readying a killing stroke. Suddenly a look of surprise registered on its face and it looked down at an arrow buried in its chest. As it slumped to the ground, Joel risked a look over his shoulder to see Bowen lowering his bow. The archer nodded at him, then notched another arrow and let fly at another creature.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Joel drew his sword, feeling rather foolish. Another one of the things was running at him. Remember what he could from movies he had seen, he somehow managed to parry its first thrust and sliced at the creature’s head. His blade bounced off the leather helmet it was wearing, jarring his arm badly. The creature returned the blow, and he ducked, feeling its sword cut through the air inches above his head. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he saw an opening and thrust blindly at the thing’s chest. Somehow his sword found a seam in the leather armor and slid through. Blood gushed forth, and the creature slumped and collapsed.

  Joel felt bile rise in his throat, but there was no time to think. Something told him to duck, and he threw himself forward off of his horse’s back as another creature swung an immense axe at him from behind. He rolled and landed on his back, sword held in front of him. The thing advanced with its axe held high over its head. Joel knew he would never be able to block a blow from the immense blade but held his sword in the most defensive posture he could. Just as the thing began the downward arc of the blade there was a blinding flash of light. For a moment Joel could see its skeleton, as if he were looking through an X-ray machine. The creature froze, locked in position like a statue. Then it toppled over and landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

  The body was heavy and smelled like the bottom of a dumpster. After catching his breath, Joel struggled, but was unable to move anything more than his fingertips. He couldn’t feel his legs, and he began to fear that he was seriously injured. The sounds of battle – clashing steel, curses and screams – washed over him. He closed his eyes and wished he were somewhere else.

  He didn’t know how long he was trapped, but after what felt like hours it grew quiet. “Help,” he whispered, too weak to do more and hoping that he was not the only survivor from his party. There was some commotion, and soon the body was rolled off of him. Someone offered him a hand up, and he took it. It was Step, blood pouring down his arm.

  “Thanks,” Joel managed to croak. “Everybody all right?” Then the bile rose in his throat again, and he could no longer hold it in.

  After he had retched, he felt slightly better and straightened up. The dust was settling, and Joel looked around and surveyed the damage his party had suffered. It was humbling and saddening. Oren was dead – the arrow that announced the creatures’ arrival had probably killed the man instantly. Four of the horses were dead. Step was wounded, but it was impossible for Joel to tell how badly. Luana’s face was covered in blood from a scalp wound, but she seemed alert. The others, Joel included, were scratched, bruised and battered, but not seriously wounded. J’Mart had disappeared as soon as the battle started, and was nowhere to be seen.

  Frayne immediately set Joel and Step to work piling the goblins’ corpses on the other side of the road from where he had decided to make camp for the night. A pungent, entirely unpleasant odor had already begun to emanate from the bodies, so the two men wrapped handkerchiefs around their faces and went to work. While they performed that grisly task, Frayne, Fender and Jared set to work ministering to the wounds of the others. J’Mart reappeared halfway through the task and kept Joel and Step company, though he refrained from helping.

  When everyone was bandaged and resting around the fire, Fender conjured a kettle of soup to save anyone from having to hunt. Everyone was quiet as they ate. Joel hadn’t known Oren well, but he felt the scout’s absence keenly. He had never been so close to death before, and it was a sobering feeling. Even the deaths of their attackers felt distinctly wrong to him, though it was obvious that they had held no such qualms about killing Joel or his companions. He was relieved that nobody else had suffered serious injury. Bowen had a sprained arm and probably some bruised ribs, but would heal well; Luana’s head wound looked much wo
rse than it actually was. Even J’Mart was quiet, making Joel realize how much he had grown used to the Ramiken’s constant rambling.

  Gaen was the first to speak after dinner. “What the HELL are goblins doing this far inside our borders?” he growled. He was looking at Frayne as he spoke, but it seemed like his question was directed at nobody in particular.

  “I don’t know, sir,” answered the short warrior. “We have had no reports of skirmishes or infighting this far in before now. All goblins have been contained on our northern and western borders.”

  “So you thought. How do you explain a band that size slipping past our border patrols and going this far inland? For that matter –”

  “For that matter, why did they slip this far inside without attacking any other groups, guards or otherwise?” broke in the Prince. “Maybe it’s just me, but I’m finding it kind of odd that we encountered them at all. It’s almost as if they were looking for us.”

  Fender was stroking his beard slowly, a habit that Joel had come to recognize as a sign that the wizard was deep in thought. “Your highness is correct,” he said slowly. “Their behavior, while distinctly goblin-like in many respects, is unusual. Normally, and I ask my friend the Warmaster to back me up,” he nodded at Gaen, “a band of goblins will simply attack any humans they come across and continue to do so until they are killed, and I find it exceedingly difficult to believe that this band happened upon no other humans before us.”

  “They’ve come halfway across the kingdom,” said Bowen, wincing in pain. “They didn’t come this far without slipping past more than one patrol.”

  “Aye,” said Gaen. “I don’t like it – not at all. This is something I’ve never seen, and I don’t like things I’ve never seen. Do you have any thoughts, SongMaster?”

  Joel, taken by surprise, sat back and thought for a moment as he nursed a particularly painful scrape on his arm. “I don’t think I’m the right person to ask, here,” he answered. “I’ve never even seen a goblin before today, much less been acquainted with their normal goblin-ish way of doing things.” Athena laughed quietly at that, and it distracted him enough to make him lose his train of thought. “I’m still having trouble dealing with Oren’s death. I know you all are soldiers, and you’re probably used to it, but even though I barely knew him, I miss him. How do you all handle it?”