by Ben Cassidy
Chapter 3
With a start, Kendril woke up.
For a moment he could not remember where he was. Then it came back to him. The forest. Jade. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In the trees around him he could hear the first birds, greeting the rising sun. He listened to them for several moments, and pushed back the last lingering traces of his dream.
When he opened his eyes again, he sat up, his back instantly protesting the movement. He quickly surveyed his surroundings. Simon was tied to a nearby tree, and was chomping on something in the undergrowth. Sunlight was glinting through the trees, painting the world around him in a red and orange glow.
Jade was sitting on a rock a few yards away, tending a small fire and watching Kendril intently.
He gave a heavy sigh, brushing some loose grass and dirt from his clothes.
“Good morning,” she said.
Kendril nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning.”
She leaned back on the rock. “I made some coffee, and got a fire started. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to wake you.”
He threw a disapproving glance at the fire.
“I tried to get dry branches,” she said quickly. “I don’t think anyone will see the smoke. The forest is so thick here, it’s hard to see through the trees anyway.”
Kendril was about to respond, but bit back his comment. The idea of a hot beverage right now made a fire seem worth the risk. He stretched his arms, then his neck. “Thanks. I see you haven’t forgotten everything.”
She gave a half smile. “No.”
Simon sniffed the morning air, then issued a plaintive whine.
Kendril gave the mule an irritated look. “No,” he said.
Simon whined again.
Jade gave the animal a confused glance. “What does he want?”
“Coffee.” Kendril moved closer to the fire, grabbing a tin cup and sitting down with his back to a tree. “He doesn’t actually like it. He just wants some because we’re having it.”
Jade raised an eyebrow. “Because we’re having it?”
Kendril poured some coffee into the cup. “He’s just jealous. He thinks he’s missing out.”
The girl laughed. The sound seemed somehow refreshing.
“What a peculiar creature.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Kendril took a sip of the coffee. “Did you sleep well last night?”
Jade glanced down at her cup. “Not really. You?”
Kendril watched the steam rise from his mug. “No. I never do when I’m out in the wild.”
There was a brief silence. The birds continued singing, their cheerful music echoing across the treetops.
“You were talking in your sleep,” said Jade quietly. She lifted her eyes from her mug, fixing Kendril with a questioning glance. “Just now, before you woke up. It sounded like you were having a bad dream.”
Kendril didn’t respond, but took another drink instead.
Jade looked as if she was going to say more, but stopped. She looked away for a moment, then smiled. “So what exactly is it that you do, anyway? When you’re not out saving damsels in distress, I mean?”
Kendril rested his head back against the tree. “Oh, nothing in particular. Odd jobs here and there.”
“Anything illegal?”
He lifted his head, giving her a funny stare.
She blushed. “I’m just curious. I mean, you’re out in the forest, with just a donkey and a lot of…” her eyes flickered down to the pistols just visible beneath his cloak, stuck into his belt. “Well, weapons.”
Rubbing a hand over the dry stubble on his chin, Kendril smiled dryly. “No, nothing illegal. Not generally, anyway. I—” he paused for a moment. “You might say I do a lot of mercenary work.”
She nodded. “I see. A soldier, then?”
“Kind of.”
Jade sighed heavily, a smile half-forming on her face. “For someone with nothing to hide, you sure are being evasive.”
Kendril chuckled. He took a large swallow of coffee. “Personally, I never trust someone unless they’re hiding something from me. A person who is completely open is almost always up to something.”
“Is that why you trust me? Because I’m hiding everything?”
“I thought you couldn’t remember anything,” said Kendril. “That’s different than deception.”
She smiled. “I could be lying, you know. Maybe I do know everything. Maybe I just don’t want to tell you.”
“The thought had occurred to me,” said Kendril lightly.
“Then why are you helping me? Why risk your life for a complete stranger?”
Kendril shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Jade shook her head, resting her chin in her hands. “You’re a strange man, Kendril.”
He smiled again, but there was a sudden flash of sorrow in his eyes. “We should change that bandage before we get going. It shouldn’t take too long.”
The young woman touched the cloth wrapped around her head. “Thanks.”
Kendril got up, and knelt by the fire. He grabbed the kettle of water. “This should do,” he said. “It’s cooled down a bit. Come here and I’ll wash out the wound. How’s the pain?”
Jade shrugged as she got down off the rock and knelt next to him. “Much better than yesterday. My head isn’t pounding quite as bad.” She laughed. “My back’s killing me, though.”
Kendril smirked, pulling out his thick black gloves from his belt. “That’s what you get when you sleep on pinecones and rocks.”
To Jade’s surprise, he put both leather gauntlets on, then carefully began to remove her bandage.
“It doesn’t look too bad. Not infected or anything, at least.” He pulled a new cloth from the nearby saddlebag, and dipped it in the warm water. “Now hold still. This will probably sting a tiny bit.”
He worked quickly and quietly, dabbing at the wound and washing the area around it.
Jade winced occasionally, but her eyes continued to follow Kendril’s gloved hands. As he was finishing tying the new bandage around her wound, she summoned the courage to speak.
“Why the gloves?”
Kendril leaned back for a moment, shaking some of the water off his fingers. “What?”
Jade tenderly felt her clean bandage. It seemed pretty secure. “Your gloves. I noticed you put them on before you changed my bandage. Wouldn’t it have been easier without them?” She smiled. “Or are you just afraid to touch me?”
Kendril hesitated for a moment. He slowly began taking his gloves off, shoving them in one of his trouser pockets. “Well—“ he began, then stopped, his face flushing slightly. “Actually…” he started again.
Jade brought her hand up to her mouth as the truth hit her. “You are afraid to touch me? I’m so sorry. I was just joking. I didn’t think—”
Kendril gritted his teeth, rising and walking over to the mule. His shoulders seemed to slump a bit, and then he turned back around.
Jade continued to watch him, stunned into silence.
Kendril paused, as if considering each word carefully. “I made a vow, a long time ago, not to touch a woman. Any woman. Not just you.” He shuffled uncomfortably. “I’m forbidden from experiencing the pleasures of the flesh. No skin to skin contact at all.”
Jade stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Why would you make a vow like that?”
His face turned dark. He stared silently at the saddlebag. “Penance,” he said simply.
Jade felt a shiver run down her spine. “Penance for what?”
Kendril lifted his gaze to meet hers. For a moment she could see a depth of pain and anguish in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before.
“I’d rather not say.”
“I see,” Jade said in a small voice, even though she really didn’t. She rose to her feet, brushing the grass off her dress. “Anything else I should know?” She tried to keep her tone lighthearted, but the w
ords somehow came out flat.
Simon stomped one of his feet as Kendril tightened the strap on the saddlebag, buckling it into place. “I have also vowed never to ride a steed, nor use a gentleman’s blade.”
Jade picked the blanket up off the ground, wrapping it around her shoulders. “A gentleman’s blade?”
Kendril glanced back at her. “A sword more than two feet in length.” He finished tying off the saddlebag on Simon, then turned to face her once more. He scratched Simon behind the ear absently as he spoke. “We should get to the Outpost by this afternoon. Once we’re there, hopefully we’ll find someone who will recognize you, or who can help you with your memory loss.” His voice grew suddenly weary. “Either way, I think we should probably part ways there.”
The words surprised Jade by the sudden stabbing feeling they created in her chest. She turned her face away, staring into the brightness of the rising sun.
“I certainly don’t want to be a burden to you, Kendril—”
Kendril shook his head quickly. “It’s not like that, Jade. I’m—“ He stopped mid-sentence, biting his lip in thought. “I would be the burden for you.”
She looked back at him, her face betraying her confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said simply.
Kendril pulled out a pistol, and carefully checked the flint with practiced moves. “I’ll stay with you at the Outpost until we can find your family or friends.” He gave a hollow smile. “After that you’ll probably be happy to be rid of me.”
Jade tried to respond, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Kendril glanced at the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees.
“Come on,” he said. The sudden softness in his voice was gone, replaced by the steely hardness of before. “The sun’s well up. There’s some cheese and bread in the saddlebag. We can have breakfast on the way. Are you ready to travel?”
She nodded, her head abuzz with questions she couldn’t find the courage to ask.
“Good,” said Kendril in a crisp tone. “Let’s get moving.”
The Outpost, much to Jade’s disappointment, was just that, and not much more.
They arrived at what passed for the western gate in the late afternoon. A slight drizzle had begun to fall again, and they were both damp and cold by the time they reached the entrance to the post. A wooden stockade surrounded the motley collection of buildings and trading posts inside. The gate itself was standing wide open.
One miserable-looking guard stood under a makeshift shelter, a pole arm slouched across his shoulder. He was huddled in a ragged poncho, water dripping intermittently from the rim of his steel helmet. He didn’t even bother to raise his weapon as Kendril and Jade drew near.
“Who goes there?” he called, then broke into a short coughing fit.
“Bandits,” replied Kendril, his raised hood hiding his face. “We’re here to storm your town and carry off your women.”
Jade stared at him in horror.
The guard gave another rattling cough. "Joke’s on you,” he said with a chortle. “We don’t have any women.” He waved his arm for them to enter.
Kendril gave a mock salute, then led Simon by the bridle into the compound.
Jade looked over with concern at the guard, but he had already settled back into the driest position he could find.
The muddy street stretched ahead for about a hundred yards or so before ending at the eastern wall of the stockade, where another gate was standing wide open. Various wooden buildings stood along the street on each side. Some horses were tethered out along the street, standing patiently in the wet weather. From several chimneys smoke drifted into the sky, curling over and over as it disappeared into the air.
A group of men were sitting out under the overhead protection of one of the porches, talking and laughing. All were dressed in animal skins and rugged clothes. Another man staggered across the puddle-strewn street, singing loudly to himself and taking occasional swigs from a bottle in his hand. To the left was a particularly large building made of stone and wood, with smoke pouring merrily from its chimney. The sound of laughter and clinking dishes came from inside. Several horses were tied up outside, including a magnificent white charger.
“Welcome to the Outpost,” said Kendril. “Not much, is it?”
Jade glanced nervously back at the gate. “You could have gotten us both killed back there with that little joke of yours.”
“Oh, I doubt it. Things tend to be pretty low key here.” He halted for a moment, pointing ahead. “That’s our first stop. The Laughing Dragon. Closest thing resembling an inn we’re going to find here, I’m afraid. Their ale’s not bad, and at least they have a fireplace where we can dry off.” He turned, his boots squelching in the mud. “Any of this look familiar to you?”
Jade looked around, trying to focus on each building. “No. As far as I know, I’ve never been here before.”
Kendril nodded. “Right. Well, let’s get something to eat.”
They tied Simon up to the post in front of the inn. At first he wasn’t at all happy about being left in the rain, but Kendril managed to dig around in the saddlebag and find another carrot, which Simon took eagerly. Holding out a gloved hand, he helped Jade down, and the two of them walked up the stone steps to the entrance. A sign hung over the door, with a carved and crudely painted figure of a dragon. Underneath it was written, in even cruder script, The Laughing Dragon.
Kendril wiped his boots off on the mat lying on the porch, then pushed the door open, causing a little bell to tinkle inside.
They stepped in, the door closing out the sound of the rain behind them. The room was large, reeking of beer and sawdust. Gray light from outside shone through the windows and onto the warped floorboards beneath their feet. About half a dozen tables were set up around the room, and several people were sitting around them, talking and drinking. A crackling hearth stood against the left wall, and a large moose head was set directly above it. A simple wooden staircase was in the far left corner, leading up to the second floor. Ending by the staircase and running along the length of the far wall was a bar, made out of wooden planks set on empty barrels. To the right and behind the bar a door led back into the kitchen, from which a constant clanging and clanking could be heard. To the right was a closed door, and along the right wall were a number of hooks on which were hung several wet cloaks and hats.
“Well, at least they have a fire,” said Jade.
“Right,” said Kendril slowly, eyeing a group of men playing cards at one of the tables. “You can dry out by the hearth, if you want. I’ll try to get us some rooms.”
Jade nodded. “Sounds good. I’m drenched.” She skirted between two of the tables, and took a seat by the fire, rubbing her hands briskly and then holding them to the warmth of the blaze.
Kendril stepped up to the bar. The bartender glanced over at him, and furrowed his eyebrows.
“What’ll ya ‘ave?”
“Two rooms for the night. I have a mule outside.”
The bartender wiped down part of the counter with a filthy towel. “Only one room left,” he said without looking up from his work.
Kendril continued to stare at the bartender. “Just one?”
“Take it or leave it.” He flipped the towel over his shoulder.
He gritted his teeth. “I’ll take it.”
“Claus!” the innkeeper cried, clapping his hands together. A young boy came running out of the kitchen.
“Yes?”
“This here fella’s got a mule out front. See to im, will ‘ee?”
The boy nodded, then turned for the door. The bartender sniffed loudly as the lad disappeared out the front. “Stable’s in the back. Your room’ll be the last on the left, top o’the staircase.”
“Thanks,” said Kendril. He turned to go.
The bartender caught a brief glimpse of the pistols stuck in Kendril’s belt. “Hold it,” he said. Kendril gave him a questioning look. “I’ll ‘ave no trouble here, and no fights, u
nderstood?” He gestured to Kendril’s weapons. “I run a clean an’ honest place.”
Kendril fixed the bartender with a penetrating stare for a few tense seconds, then turned again and walked away.
Jade looked up as he approached. “Did you get our rooms, Kendril?”
He nodded. “Your room’s up the stairs, last on the left. I’m going to go outside for a moment, get our bags and make sure that Simon gets settled.”
The girl raised an eyebrow. “Settled?”
Kendril shrugged. “He gets skittish in new places. Think you’ll be okay for a few minutes?”
Jade cocked her head and smiled. “Go take care of your mule, Kendril. I think I’ll be all right for five minutes without you here. I am a big girl after all, even if I have lost my memory.”
Kendril cast a suspicious glance at the group playing cards a couple tables over. “I’ll be back soon.” He moved to the door, then stepped out into the cold and wet.
The fire crackled merrily as Jade leaned back in her chair, staring at the flames. The warmth seemed to soak its way through her fingers and toes, filling her entire body with comfort and security. She closed her eyes, feeling the heat against her face.
“Excuse me,” a sudden voice said. “May I join you?”
Jade opened her eyes to see a tall handsome man standing between her and the fire. He was dressed in expensive-looking clothes, with a purple cape hanging from his shoulders. His hair was dark, and a neatly trimmed goatee covered his face. At his belt hung a large sword in a scabbard.
“I would love some company,” said Jade, gesturing to a chair. “And you are?”
“Maklavir, at your service.” The man moved smoothly into the chair, whipping his cape out of the way. “And may I have the honor of your name, madam?”
“Jade,” she said without thinking. She hesitated for a moment. The fact that she couldn’t remember her real name came back to her with a painful stab.
Maklavir tilted his head slightly. “Something wrong, Miss Jade?”
She sighed. “No, no. And please, just Jade is fine.”
The man gave a warm smile. “Just Jade it is, then. I was playing cards over there when I noticed you sitting here by yourself.” His eyes flashed to the bandage around her head. “You’re injured. Nothing serious, I hope?”
A tavern maid arrived at the table before Jade could answer.
Maklavir glanced up at the woman. “Ah, yes. Nothing for me, thank you, but perhaps for the lady?” He looked over at Jade.
“Oh…no, no thank you. That’s very sweet, but I couldn’t—”
Maklavir waved his hand. “Don’t be silly. It would be my pleasure. Some stew, perhaps? You look positively drenched.”
Jade hesitated for a moment, then finally gave in and nodded her head.
“Splendid,” said the man brightly. “Some of your stew for the lady, then. On second thought, I’ll have some as well. A beautiful woman should never have to eat alone.”
The tavern maid took the order, then disappeared towards the back.
Maklavir stroked his goatee, giving Jade a thoughtful look. “The man you were with before,” he said, “is he…?”
Jade stared at him for a moment, then gave a short laugh. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
Maklavir’s face brightened a bit, but darkened just as quickly. His voice lowered. “I see. You’re not in any kind of…trouble, are you?” He left the sentence unfinished, and lifted his eyes to the bandage.
She looked down at the table and shook her head. “Oh, no. He’s done nothing but help me.” She smiled. “In fact, he won’t even touch me. Some kind of vow that he’s made.”
Maklavir gave her a curious look. “What kind of vow?”
She thought for a moment, trying to remember. “He told me he was forbidden from touching a woman, riding a steed, or using a gentleman’s blade.”
“Hmm.” Maklavir nodded slowly, as if in thought. “Sounds like the kind of vow a Ghostwalker would make.”
“A what?” The man sighed, tracing a carved line on the wooden table with his fingernail. “A Ghostwalker.” He looked up suddenly. “How well do you know this friend of yours, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Unexpectedly, a flash of doubt entered her mind. “Well—” she paused, the reality of the situation hitting her once again. “Not long. Only a day, I think.”
Maklavir lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t sound very sure.”
Jade stared down at the table. She didn’t know this man, but then she hardly knew Kendril, either. Without her memory she felt completely lost.
“I can’t remember anything,” she said finally. “Nothing before yesterday, anyway. It’s all a blank.”
Maklavir was silent for a moment. He leaned back in his chair, and Jade noticed a sudden kindness in his eyes. “I see,” he said simply. “I’m sorry. Amnesia, eh?”
She looked up with a start. “You’ve heard of this before?”
Maklavir nodded. “Most assuredly. I knew a stableman’s boy who was kicked in the head by a horse once. Couldn’t remember a blessed thing for several months.”
Jade felt a flood of relief, but it was quickly followed by a cold thrust of fear. “So he remembered everything eventually?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes.” Maklavir paused uncertainly. “Of course, there was a chance he wouldn’t. At least that’s what his father told me the physician had said. Apparently in some cases the condition is permanent.”
Jade felt her heart sink. “You mean I might never remember who I am?”
The man lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Jade. There’s just no way to tell. Not yet, anyway. Of course, I’m no doctor.”
Jade shook her head, willing the tears away. “What were you saying about…Ghostwalkers? Why are they called that?”
Maklavir shook his head. “They consider themselves dead to their friends and their family. At least that’s what I’ve heard. They’re a rather secretive group. Tend to keep to themselves.” He glanced at the fire as a log split from the heat. “They’re doomed men. Some would say damned. Most seem to take their vows as some kind of penance for a terrible sin or crime they’ve committed. They spend their lives seeking redemption for it.”
Jade thought about her secretive companion. What Maklavir was saying certainly seemed to fit. “What exactly do they do?”
Maklavir shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. A lot of people seem to think they’re nothing more than a band of thieves or assassins. Others believe them to be in alliance with…darker powers.” He folded his hands, tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully. “Truth is, no one really knows. I’ve heard stories of Ghostwalkers showing up at the strangest places at the oddest times. Sometimes they have been known to come in the middle of the night to a village or town and confiscate books or papers, or even people.”
Jade shuddered. “Why?”
“Eru only knows.”
“Are they…” she hesitated, looking for the right word, “dangerous?”
“Undoubtedly,” Maklavir replied without hesitating. “I would also add mentally unbalanced, psychotically violent, and extremely paranoid.” He raised his eyes over Jade’s head, looking behind her. “Did I leave anything out?”
Jade turned and saw Kendril standing ominously behind her.
“Kendril,” she said, feeling vaguely embarrassed, “I didn’t hear you come up.”
He pulled up a chair that faced the front door, then sat down, his eyes on Maklavir. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” he said quietly.
“Maklavir,” the man responded easily. If Kendril’s steady gaze unnerved him, he certainly didn’t show it. “You must be Kendril, I presume?”
Jade felt suddenly awkward. She tried desperately to think of something to say, but nothing would come.
“Ah,” said Maklavir brightly as the tavern maid returned with two steaming bowls of stew. “Splendid. Our food has arrived.”