“Oh, excellent!” Raegith proclaimed, his spirits seemingly raised. “Well, Ebriz Leafcutter, allow me to explain what I am all about. I’m the bastard son of a king and a prostitute who wouldn’t be called a prince by anyone but a buffoon. I have no wealth other than these impressive linens I wear strapped about my person with twine; I have no ability in leadership, combat or manual labor; my only ambition in life is to feel the sweet caress of naked females, simultaneously, preferably… oh, and I am to lead a group of warriors into the very home of our nation’s most bitter enemy and order them to attack my homeland!”
“Speaking of which,” Raegith said, looking around. “I was under the impression there were more of us. Where the hell is everyone?”
“Questing,” Ebriz said, sitting down on some sacks of what appeared to be rice.
Raegith gave the Twileen an absurd look and Ebriz sighed at the prince’s confusion.
“They were hailed a few minutes before you awoke. A villager from a nearby village frantically informed them of a group of bandits raiding her home and they all charged off to go rescue the people from the dastardly culprits and return the village to peace.”
“Why would they do that?” Raegith asked.
“For the experience, mostly,” Ebriz casually replied.
“I feel like I’m going to be saying this a lot in our time together,” Raegith said, flatly. “You’ve lost me.”
“Milord, you are indeed in need of a practical education, I do believe, but fortune smiles upon you, for I am a patient man and education is one of my many skills.”
Ebriz pulled out a long pipe and struck a match to it, puffing it gently to life between his grinning lips.
“You are travelling with a group of adventurers on a long and arduous journey to perform an invaluable service to your kingdom. While the alpha and omega of such a journey is pretty exciting, the in between can get extremely boring and boredom is a total bitch.”
“Okay,” Raegith said, finally comprehending. “So in order to fight the boredom, we jump at any opportunity to go do something challenging that will give us more of an ‘experience’ in our ‘quest’ to save the world, right?”
“Have you gone sour in the head, boy?” Ebriz shouted, nearly dropping his pipe. “What kind of sadistic lunatic would, in Fate’s name, do such a thing? Do you know how deadly raids can be? No one in their right mind would charge off into battle because they’re bored, you fool! That’s insane! Why would you even think such a thing?”
“I don’t know!” Raegith exclaimed, worried that he had just come off as a total idiot. “You were talking about boredom and I just thought…”
“You just thought what?” Ebriz asked, getting even more worked up. “Yes, it’s boring as hell out here, but to think those brave souls would risk their lives just for thrills? Why that’s… that is completely offensive! Totally uncalled for, milord. Not cool!”
“Ebriz, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Raegith started to say before catching a faint twitch of the Twileens mouth. “Wait… Fate’s be damned, you’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”
“Ah, how quickly you are, prince,” Ebriz said with a smile. “I’m a bit ashamed that I gave it away so quickly. To answer your questions honestly, the group has travelled to a nearby village to investigate a raid that happened some time ago, but could mean trouble for us later if we don’t handle it. We are to ride ahead, keeping to this road until they return. How soon that will be, I do not know, but all of them were needed, apparently.”
“So we just keep riding along with all the gear? What if they don’t come back?”
“If they don’t come back, then I’m going home,” Ebriz laughed.
The two spent most of the day riding and talking. Ebriz was a bard tasked with travelling with the company. When asked why the party needed a bard, Ebriz brought up the boredom argument again and Raegith just let it go before the bard could lure him into another intellectual trap. Ebriz was witty and maybe even a bit mentally unstable, from the manner in which he talked, so Raegith liked him right away. They talked about what life was like for a bard and for a Twileen. Raegith, having spent very little time outside the walls of Forster’s Keep, mostly listened and questioned the bard, but Ebriz was extremely talkative and did not mind going on for hours, until the sun waned on the horizon.
The pair passed only a few travelers, who paid them little mind. To Raegith’s disappointment, none of them were young women. As the sky grew dark, Ebriz pulled the cart off the road and out into a field, heading toward a copse of short trees.
“Hey, do you feel like getting out and walking a bit?” Ebriz asked as they pulled into the less steady dirt and grass.
“If this cart sways much more, I might not have a choice.”
“Exactly,” Ebriz laughed. “Here, walk behind the cart and fix the grass that gets smashed by the wheels.”
“Fix the grass?” Raegith asked, clearly perplexed.
“Pick the blades back up, mess them about with your hands…” Ebriz instructed. “Just, you know, fix the damn things. We don’t want just anyone to see a set of tire tracks leading off the road and right out to our camp.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Raegith said, blowing him off. “If you’re worried, why don’t you do it?”
“And you’ll drive the cart out to the trees?”
Raegith paused a bit. He had no idea how to drive a cart and most likely did not have the night vision that Ebriz did, being full Twileen and all. “Okay, so I’ll just fix the grass then?”
“Sure, milord, whatever you feel like doing,” Ebriz replied comically.
The next day was more of the same riding along the road. Raegith had only slept a little that night, as Ebriz kept him up for the first half of the night talking and then, a bit past midnight, suddenly yawned and declared that his half of the watch was over and it was Raegith’s turn. He then lay down, pulled a blanket over him and quickly dozed off. Raegith complained that he didn’t even know they had started watch, but Ebriz admonished him for trying to shirk his half of the duties and that if he fell asleep during the night they might both be killed by the Demonic Fire Monkey who raged about the countryside at night.
“Demonic Fire Monkey?” Raegith asked, disbelieving his partner. “Bullshit, there is no Demonic Fire Monkey around here, or anywhere else for that matter!”
“Shhh,” Ebriz chastised him. “Do you want the monkey to hear you? Just because his ears are unholy flames doesn’t mean he is without exceptional hearing.”
“You are so full of it! Forget it, I’d rather stay up all night than put up with this nonsense. Just go to sleep, you crazy little man.”
“I can’t sleep now,” Ebriz grumbled like a child. “Not when I think you’re completely underestimating the hearing capabilities of the Demonic Fire Monkey. No, milord, I will not trust my life to sleep if you will not promise to alert me the moment you suspect the presence of such a horrendous beast.”
“You know what, I think I can do that, actually,” Raegith replied, exasperated. “If you will shut up and go to sleep, I will promise to tell you the very second I see a flaming monkey on the loose. Surely on this moonless night, such a spectacle could not possibly go unnoticed.”
“Well… you might be surprised.”
As the cart slogged along, despite the brightness of the Spring morning, Raegith dozed infrequently, until a bump in the road or some noise brought him back from his upright sleep. While at first having the sun on him in such an open space was exhilarating, the glowing sky orb was quickly becoming his enemy.
Within a few hours, a pair of men on strange mounts approached from behind the cart. As they got closer, Ebriz called out to Boram and Tavin. The pair were returning from the village, with the rest of the party following an hour behind them. It was the first time Raegith had seen either of them aside from the night he was brought into the camp.
Boram wore an odd assortment of armor, with plate armor ove
r his chest, held together by leather and fur. On his shoulders were massive skulls of some vicious-looking beast and strapped across his back was the giant sword. He rode upon a large, armored ox with wicked horns that curled out in front of it. Tavin was dressed like a hunter, in green and brown clothing, a leather vest with several pouches and pockets about it and high, leather boots. An elegant recurve bow was at his back and a large, fat-bladed knife was sheathed at his waist. He wore an archer’s hat on his head and a wooden whistle on a string about his neck. On his shoulder rested a fearsome bird or prey that stared sideways at him and flexed its enormous talons. It must have been the “Carver” the man referred to the night before. Unlike Boram, his steed was horse-like, but with a wider body and padded paws instead of hooves, making it much more noiseless than his partner’s beast.
“You two managed to make it through the night alright, it seems,” Boram bellowed. “The kid looks a little disheveled. What did you do to him?”
“He kept me up all night, is what he did,” Raegith proclaimed, sitting up to meet his comrades. “Feeding me some nonsense about a flaming monkey demon to keep me awake.”
Boram and Tavin both looked at each other in surprise. Suddenly Boram spurred his mount up to the side of the cart and had Raegith by the collar, pulling him halfway out of the cart as it rolled down the road.
“Didst thou see the Demonic Fire Monkey?” Boram asked. He reached back and gripped the hilt of his sword. “Does the demon follow us even now? Speak boy, before my sword determines your true worth!”
“What? No!” Raegith exclaimed. “He’s not following us, he… wait, the monkey’s real? There’s really a flaming monkey out there? I thought Ebriz was telling a joke!”
“Why would he joke about something like that?” Boram screamed at him, his booming voice nearly deafening the prince. “Do you have any idea how strong a monkey is? Well this one is possessed and made of fire! Picture that, bitch!”
Tavin was busting up with laughter and Ebriz simply sat on the edge of the cart with a grin on his face. A moment later even Boram was smiling widely and Raegith was just entirely confused.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked.
Boram let him back into the cart before releasing him, laughing the entire time.
“You couldn’t resist, could you?” Boram asked Ebriz.
“Who else could I play that story off on but a boy who’s spent most of his life in his room?” Ebriz replied. “Look at him, he actually believed it for a moment when you grabbed him.”
“Yeah, real funny,” Raegith said, thoroughly humiliated. “I knew there was no fire monkey.”
The group got quiet again and exchanged light sheepish looks at each other, as if they had heard something funny, but didn’t know if they should laugh or not.
“Guys, there is no such thing as the Demonic Fire Monkey, right? Why are you looking at each other like that?”
“No, there is no Demonic Fire Monkey, prince,” Tavin said, his smooth voice much more even-toned than Ebriz. “That monkey had an exorcism a long time ago. He’s completely himself now.”
It was another two hours before the rest of the group caught up with them. They were pulling another cart, this one much fuller of gear and items. There were cabinets on the sides with jingling bottles and containers and all manner of instruments. Beside the cart were Hemmil and Zakk, the sun reflecting cleanly off of their plate armor. To the other side was a tall Faeir in dazzling orange and red robes riding atop a strange and colorful beast. Walking in front of the cart and leading the horse that pulled it was another Faeir, dressed in grey pants and a short robe.
This Faeir was much different than the other. The mounted Faeir was of orange skin and looked like fire, while the walking one had pale blue skin and wore bland clothing. The blue Faeir held a different stance than the other, in much more of a submissive posture and looked at the ground while walking. As Raegith watched the group approach in the fading day, he realized another grave difference between the two Faeir. The blue one was a female.
“Have you been riding in that thing all day?” Hemmil asked Raegith as they came up on the cart.
Raegith had to break his gaze away from the woman that led the cart down the road. “Of course. What else would I do?”
Zakk sighed and Hemmil eyed Raegith hard.
“Get off, now,” Hemmil ordered the prince. “I would expect a lay-about like Ebriz to overburden this poor beast, but by the Fates Raegith, you’re supposed to be in training! When we travel, you will walk!”
Raegith got off the cart, feeling embarrassed in front of the Faeir woman who was now close enough to hear him being admonished. She did not even look up to notice him. He tried not to pay an overt amount of attention to her, but she was such a lovely creature. She was taller than him, with slender Faeir features and black hair that hung loose in front of her face. He tried even to pull her scent into his nose as she passed by, but she was too far from him and Hemmil was already barking orders at him.
“…and I’ll be damned if you’re going to try and… are you even listening, boy?” Hemmil growled.
Raegith felt the blow to the back of his head and he stumbled forward, barely keeping his footing under him.
“Pay attention, damn you!” the man yelled.
By the time they had decided to camp, Raegith was tired and hungry. He couldn’t believe something as simple as walking could drain him so badly and the pain in his heels was nearly unbearable. He looked around for Onyx and found her beside the larger cart, pulling out poles and canvas to set up the tents. She yanked and tugged, having a seemingly difficult time with her task. Out away from the cart, the other Faeir was sitting cross-legged and resting his back against a tree. His eyes were closed and he paid no attention to his companion toiling away at the set up. Hemmil and Zakk already had taken off to scout around the area and it did not look as if Boram, Tavin or Ebriz were too concerned with setting up a tent and they certainly weren’t helping out the woman. Raegith eyed her, contemplating going to aid her, despite the weariness in his feet and shoulders.
“Don’t”
Raegith looked down to where Tavin was sitting, a pipe glowing near his face. Boram and Ebriz were doing something with their gear that seemed overly noisy, but Tavin simply sat on a log and puffed his pipe, looking over to the Faeir woman, as well.
“Don’t what?” Raegith asked, playing dumb.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the man said, staring forward instead of looking up at him. “I’m telling you not to act on those thoughts.”
“Is no one going to help her? Is she some kind of slave or something?” Raegith asked.
“It’s just a different culture,” Tavin said. It seemed like his voice never changed inflection. Everything he said was given calmly, in an even tone, as if he were stating facts. “The Faeir are not like us. They don’t like mingling and they don’t have any compassion for those they consider inferior.”
“You said they are not like ‘us?’” Raegith asked.
“Saban.”
“You may have noticed, I’m only half Saban,” Raegith replied.
“Half isn’t too bad,” Tavin said, continuing to puff on his pipe. “Besides… you can’t hunt, you can’t run on trees and you probably couldn’t even fit in those dinky tree houses they live in out in the West. You’re a Saban with a little Twileen in ya. But you sure as hell aren’t Faeir, so keep clear of them.”
Raegith turned back to look at the female Faeir. She had her gear out of the cart and was busy setting it together to raise the tent. Her companion had not moved from his spot and may have even been sleeping. Raegith wondered what the relationship between the two was. Was it a master and servant, or something more intimate? He briefly thought about disregarding Tavin’s suggestion that he keep away from the woman, but before he could make a decision on his own, Hemmil and Zakk had returned and were already calling for him.
Chapter 4
Ebriz had not b
een joking in the slightest when he talked about how boring it got on the road. Raegith was accustomed to down time, having lived most of his life in a keep with nothing but the walls and some books to entertain him. He tried to keep his body fit during that time, knowing that someday he might be released or, at worst, he would have to escape. However, doing calisthenics that his mother taught him in an old dungeon and walking all day in second-hand boots were two very different exercises and Raegith was doing the latter for as long as the sun was out, every day. His morning training began before dawn each day as Hemmil barked out commands and Zakk assisted by continually out-performing him. Then he would help pack everything up and load the cart only to walk beside it the entire day. As soon as they found a spot to camp, he would unload the cart, set up their tent and eat his evening meal before passing out on a cot across the tent from Zakk.
Ebriz was the official entertainment of the journey, singing songs and telling tales during the cooler times of the day, but hiding out under a tarp in the back of the cart through midday. Boram was a close second in keeping the attention of the group, having nearly as many stories as the Bard.
The huge Saban was an ex-soldier of the Fifth Regiment and now spent his time leading the local militia of his home in the East and running around with Tavin. He was a veteran of the Stampede War, where a group of ungodly hideous monsters crossed into Rellizbix from beyond the World Edge Mountains in the East and wreaked havoc. It was their leader, Nogrin the Behemoth, that Raegith’s father had slain to end the war before he was born. Boram was a young private in the army when he was deployed to hold a pass that would let the monsters through to the central plains and all the farmland within.
The battle waged there was one of the bloodiest of the entire war, with three entire battalions lost. Boram, though barely a man at the time, was still a Saban giant and stood toe-to-toe with one of the monsters, as the lone survivor from his platoon.
Beyond the Hell Cliffs Page 4