The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm)

by Brian C. Hager

  The captain’s eyes widened at sight of the ring. “Very well. I am Hansard. I’ll see if His Grace will talk with you.” He gestured to Drath. “Come with me. Your friend stays, and he can hold your sword.” Saying this, he turned and marched toward the mansion behind him.

  Drath hurriedly unbuckled his sword belt and handed his weapon to Merdel, who took it and moved to lean against the wall.

  * * *

  Thorne tried for what seemed the hundredth time to arouse Vaun’s interest in what they’d discussed the previous day. He wanted to hear more about the history of Vaun’s world, finding it quite interesting how closely his own resembled the ancient history of the other. But the youth didn’t respond or even acknowledge the dwarf’s presence. He just followed Thorne wordlessly and did as he was told, barely noticing the crowd he walked through. His only sign of life came when he bought another belt to hold his other daggers and his pants in place. Oddly, he paid what the seller asked without bargaining for a lower price. The merchant had stared at the youth when he just gave him the money, then looked to Thorne for an explanation, answering the dwarf’s shrug of incomprehension with one of his own.

  Ever since the fight last night, Thorne hadn’t gotten a word out of Vaun. He himself had returned to normal after the ale had dulled his headache, but Vaun seemed to withdraw even further into himself. Frustrated, the dwarf gave up and led his mute companion through the streets, wondering why the gods had cursed the youth with a conscience.

  * * *

  Dart spied Merdel leaning against the walls of the Baron’s estate and turned to elbow his cousin beside him. The blond elf turned to him, and Dart nodded in Merdel’s direction. Rush looked to where his cousin nodded, then turned back to him and nodded as well, and they hurried to where the mage stood.

  Merdel stood with his staff leaning against his left shoulder, his arm draped casually around it. Drath’s sword leaned against the wall to his right, and he regarded the two elves curiously as they approached him.

  The mage smiled wryly when the elves stopped in front of him. “And to what do I owe this wonderful visitation?”

  Rush grinned. “We just thought we’d come see you.”

  “Aye.” Dart nodded in agreement.

  Merdel lifted a brow, obviously believing the cousins had a much stronger motive.

  The two elves hesitated, nervously shuffling their feet. Merdel usually prompted them more than this. It made them wonder if the bearded mage cared what they wanted to tell him.

  Finally, Rush swallowed his uncertainty. Talking with Merdel was like picking a complicated lock. You never knew if the next twist would release the lock or break your pick. “We have something to tell you.”

  “I figured that.”

  “From what we’ve been able to gather, those five men arrived about a day before we did, and in quite a hurry. They had galloped up to the gate and nearly trampled five or six people. Needless to say, the guards weren’t happy. But a quick and fairly large bribe kept them from reporting it. Those two survivors from before were not with them. So we’re safe. At least for now.”

  “And where did you find this wellspring of knowledge?” Merdel seemed surprised at how much the elf knew.

  “Someone sees everything, and that someone always wants to talk about it. All you have to do is find him and act interested.” The blond elf seemed pleased with himself, as did his cousin.

  “Well, that certainly is a comfort. Anything else?”

  “No, nothing of interest. What’re you doing here?”

  Merdel gestured toward the wall behind him. “I’m waiting for Drath. He entered the mansion almost an hour ago and hasn’t returned. Either he’s dead, in prison, or he’s talking to the Baron. As to which is true, I’m sure we’ll find out shortly. Have you purchased all we’ll need?”

  “Aye, we just finished.”

  “Good. We bought our last horse, and I’m sure Thorne will be through today as well. If Drath does his job right with the Baron, we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Now…” The wizard stopped as Drath exited the gates and came over to where his three companions stood waiting.

  “Nice to see I’m so popular that I have a welcoming committee.” He bent and picked up his sword, asking the reason for the elves’ visit while he buckled it on.

  Merdel told him, then asked if he was successful with the Baron.

  “Oh, aye. Baron Hugo was quite pleased to learn that the five men were some of Elak’s mercenaries. He even thanked me and gave me a reward that he insisted I give to Thorne and Vaun. All in all, I’d say it went pretty well.”

  “Did you have any trouble getting to see him?” Merdel led the way as they headed back into the streets.

  “No more than usual,” Drath explained. “Even with the signet, they questioned me thoroughly before admitting me to the Baron. I guess Hugo’s still paranoid after that last attempt on his life.”

  “Aye. You would be, too, if one of your own aides tried to kill you. And he does run the town that sells the world’s best horses.”

  Drath nodded, then turned to the cousins. “Have either of you seen Thorne and Vaun today?”

  “Aye, briefly.” Rush nodded. “We saw them as we finished storing the last of the provisions we bought. Vaun looked much like he did this morning.”

  “Fire and water, what is wrong with him? I wish he weren’t so sensitive. He should know better than to let this bother him. I barely got a word out of him last night, and he said nothing to me at all today. I know he’s dealing with difficult things, but he’s much more mature than that. He should be able to handle it. He could be a hindrance if he stays like this.”

  Merdel bobbed his head. “Aye, but I doubt he will. I foresee a change in the youth’s spirit, and I think it will solve this crisis he faces.” He said that to encourage Drath, but he still harbored doubts it might be true.

  * * *

  When Drath and Merdel walked into The Prancing Horse with their two elven companions, they saw that Thorne and Vaun were already seated. The four moved through the crowded tavern and seated themselves across from the other two. Thorne sat holding his head up with his fist, and sighed heavily when his friends sat, not hiding his boredom or frustration.

  “At last. I finally get to talk to someone.” He lifted his head and glanced sidelong at Vaun, hoping his comment would arouse his interest. It didn’t.

  Merdel smiled. “I see you two decided to avoid trouble this night and get here early.”

  Thorne laughed and agreed, but Vaun only sat as he had for the last hour and a half, his head down and his eyes staring into his tankard, unseeing.

  Merdel squinted over at him. “What’s troubling you, Vaun Tarsus?” He hoped he could help the young man overcome whatever bothered him. The wizard knew Drath could never hope to conquer the young man’s low self-esteem alone.

  The youth shrugged slightly but said nothing. The wizard turned toward Thorne, his eyes reasking his question.

  “I’ve no idea,” Thorne admitted. “He’s been like that ever since the fight last night. The only sign of life I’ve seen in him was when he spent over an hour cleanin’ and inspectin’ his sword, and that was after he’d already done it once. Never seen anyone pay more attention to a sword than his companions. He barely offered to help me walk with a sore head, either.”

  Merdel nodded but said nothing as the serving girl brought them their dinner. Thorne and Vaun had politely waited for the others before eating. Vaun ate mechanically, just as he had the night before. The wizard was glad his companion hadn’t lost his appetite and found it only mildly comforting that he wasn’t trying to eat out of an empty bowl this time.

  Impatience overtaking him, Merdel stopped eating and prepared his mind for a spell. He concentrated, picturing Vaun’s face in his head. Praying silently for guidance, he then incanted softly, pulling forth the magic from inside, and reached out with his awareness toward his companion seated across from him. This time, he planned to probe deeper into Vaun’s
thoughts, hoping to find some clue as to what bothered the youth. He still retained a faint hope that fate had led him to this young man.

  He entered Vaun’s mind, and immediately a loud noise assaulted him. It so surprised him he nearly lost contact, but he quickly overcame the shock and tried to define what he heard. Concentrating harder, he realized that he heard music, not just noise, and it was very similar to what he’d heard before. It was beautiful, yet it had a stronger, harder edge to it and was extremely loud, much more so than last time. What he found even more strange was that he could almost feel it.

  Curious, he probed deeper, but once he did something slammed into him and ejected him from the youth’s thoughts. The contact broke so severely that he winced and rubbed at his temples, his mind aching.

  “Headache, Merdel?” the wizard heard Drath ask. Merdel opened his eyes and looked at the tall man. He decided to keep what he’d found to himself, both to prevent further argument and to give him time to figure it out on his own, and only nodded.

  Thorne laughed heartily. “Well, I’ve just the cure for that.” The dwarf showed his meaning by refilling Merdel’s cup with ale from the pitcher. Filling his own, the dwarf raised his tankard, grinning broadly. “To your health, and the expulsion of all things that bring the head pain.” The others raised their cups to him, and all drank deeply.

  Drath then gave Thorne the reward the Baron promised, withholding Vaun’s for a time when he was in a better mood, and Thorne toasted to the Baron’s health, the others joining him again.

  * * *

  Vaun, however, did not join the reveling. He only listened to the song in his head and wondered what had tried to disrupt it. The song told him it was unimportant, so the youth forgot about it and again let the sweet music pour over his consciousness and into his soul. If it wanted him, then he decided not to fight it anymore and just let it take him. It seemed the only way to retain his sanity.

  * * *

  Six horses traveled the grassy plains. The wind pushed at their manes and tails, and blew cool autumn scents into their nostrils. Since they rode almost due south, the six adventurers had experienced only a slight drop in temperature, while it had become noticeably cooler in places north of them, even as close as the town they had left a day and a half ago. The air had a definite coolness to it, but the party’s wool clothing kept them warm enough.

  They rode in pairs one behind the other, with the elves leading and Thorne and Vaun in the rear. The dwarf again instructed Vaun in history and geography, since he had revived an interest in learning what Thorne could teach him.

  He talked now of the lands founded after the human immigrants had crossed the Kalt Mountains. He said the dwarves and elves had already been in those areas for thousands of years, but the humans came and took parts for themselves. There had been battles and small wars over certain parts, but since the humans had not wanted all of the forests and very few wanted to live in the mountains, the elves and dwarves let them fight each other for the rest.

  The dwarf seemed amused at the way humans acted, and he didn’t condemn them for the wars they had fought against his people. He laughed outright when Vaun told him of some of the wars fought in his world and what they were about. It appeared people were the same no matter where they lived, the urge to conquer and rule able to drive any race. The more serious wars he didn’t make light of, even commenting on how he was glad the people had rebelled against tyranny and cruelty. Happy that Vaun had finally broken at least part of his depression, for at times he would lapse into silence and his face would go blank, Thorne very much enjoyed the journey. The others, too, had a lightening of spirits.

  * * *

  They were topping a low rise on the otherwise flat grassland when the horses began to nicker and falter. Wondering at the cause, Vaun tried to calm his restive mount, a roan gelding, and asked Thorne what could be bothering them.

  The dwarf gestured to his right across Vaun’s mount. “’Tis the ruins. Probably smell something unpleasant that lives there. Best we stay as far away as possible.” Vaun turned his head and saw what the dwarf meant.

  Someone had built a structure of some sort—it wasn’t obvious what—on top of this hill many ages ago. Now only crumbling walls and gaping entranceways remained. What looked to have been a short tower had been built in front of and to the left of the main building, but now it stood half fallen. Its ruined, still-standing remains pointed a stone finger up towards the sky, as if accusing the Great God of cursing the place.

  The hill was very small, the building not much more than fifty paces away, and Vaun had to guide his horse over stones half-sunk into the earth and covered with weeds. An outbuilding must have stood here when the place was in better repair. When he peered at the structure again, foreboding overcame him, coupled with a sense of anticipation or expectancy, and he wished fervently to pass by the ruin quickly, while at the same time he wanted to stay.

  He had slowed his horse while gazing at the fallen structure and gazed ahead to where Thorne descended the hill. The others had already disappeared down the other side. Taking a last look, his mind and body yearning now for…something, the youthful rider kicked his horse forward. He rode no more than five feet when a creature came screaming out from the ruins, long arms outstretched as it charged directly at Vaun and his mount.

  The horse reared high, neighing in panic, and Vaun feared to be thrown. He clenched the horse’s sides tightly with his knees and clamped down hard on the reins. He glanced over and saw the creature approaching him rapidly, so he changed his tactic and decided to dismount.

  Reaching down to his sword resting at his left knee, he pulled the weapon free as he rolled out of the saddle to his right, his left leg swinging over the saddle. He landed in a crouch facing the creature. Now free of its rider, the gelding bolted down the hill, where the others were returning, having heard the creature’s throaty cry.

  The beast took two more steps and launched itself at Vaun, both of its clawed hands reaching out towards the young adventurer. Vaun dropped and rolled to his right out of the thing’s path, and it had to skid to a halt to avoid extending too far past its victim or going over the edge of the hill. It spun back to face him with a growl.

  The tall, brownish-red creature had long arms ending in oversized, five-fingered clawed hands. It stood taller than Drath by at least a foot, and had a muscular tail tapering out behind it. Running swiftly on claw-tipped feet as large as the young man’s stomach, it had no hair, and its slick skin was mottled black. Its lizard-like head sat atop broad, powerful shoulders, and it bellowed with a sound a little lower than a lion’s and far more terrifying, exposing a mouth full of long, sharp yellow-white teeth. Its long ears swept straight back on the sides of its head. It smelled of death and ruin, and it advanced upon Vaun slowly and hunched over, regarding the adventurer with baleful yellow cat’s eyes as it growled deeply in its throat again.

  Vaun wondered what dark powers had created the creature, but gave up inquiring as the thing attacked again, astonishingly fast for its size. Vaun barely avoided being gutted by its claws as he again rolled away, this time to his left.

  Timing the creature’s next attack, Vaun leapt forward at the same time it did, turning sideways at just the right moment and swinging his sword upward to knock away the claws that threatened to rip out his throat. The razor sharp, woven blade bit through the thing’s flesh and bone, severing its right hand. Through the sword, Vaun could feel the skin and bone separate, and this time it didn’t bother him as much. That sickened him more than the sensation itself.

  Landing solidly, Vaun spun the sword over his head, gripped it two-handed, and slashed downward across the thing’s back. The song began to pound heavily in his head as he felt the thing’s flesh peel back again, and the rhythm matched the speed of the battle. It seemed almost as if the two forces tried to take over the fight.

  The creature howled in pain, turning swiftly and advancing with madness in its eyes, determined to shred its
enemy into bloody pulp.

  The others had topped the hill by this time, but because of the narrowness of the hill and the uneven terrain, none could get close enough to aid their young companion.

  The combatants dodged and jumped at and away from one another, both seeking an opening. Vaun began to feel not only his opponent’s body when it touched his sword but also the air moving over the blade as he swung it around. Strangely, he found that provided refreshment from the heat of battle.

  Dart uncovered and strung his elven longbow, which to a human would have been a shortbow or even a horsebow, then nocked an arrow half the size of a clothyard shaft. He had to wait to loose upon the creature so as not to endanger Vaun, managing to hit it in the neck and just below one shoulder blade, though to little effect. Frustrated, the five adventurers watched helplessly as their youngest party member battled one of the deadliest creatures of their world, though all stood ready to attack if an opening came.

  Vaun ducked as the creature swung at his head with its one claw and slashed across its midsection. The youth felt the skin part beneath the razor edge of his sword, and he could feel its heart beat through the blood vessels he severed. The beast roared as blood flowed from the wound, but it did not slow, and the other half-dozen cuts the young warrior had given it had just as small an effect.

  Realizing the thing would easily outlast him if he continued to fight as he did, Vaun measured out his tactics, moving only enough to avoid its slashing claws and biting teeth, letting the rhythm wash over him completely. He’d been unconsciously fighting it because it scared him. But he discovered it would aid his victory if he let it, for it allowed him to sense his opponent’s movements before it performed them. The song guided his sword blade to nick or cut the creature when he could, and the rhythm moved his body out of harm’s way when it tried to claw him.

  For almost a quarter of an hour Vaun and the creature struggled back and forth, and even though the thing was cut several more times, it still showed little sign of weakening. Vaun had been clubbed by the thing’s stumped right arm and tail a few times but had yet to be seriously injured. The song and the rhythm guided him too well for that to happen. He guessed his luck would run out if he did not end this quickly, and he feared that the song and rhythm would abandon him at any time, leaving him vulnerable to all attacks. He wasn’t sure he could fight without them now.