by T. A. Uner
Straw hat was wheezing like a man infected with dead-lung syndrome. Lager turned toward the remaining three men who looked at him in disbelief. “Does anyone else want me to get them a brew?” The four men looked at one another before shaking their heads to indicate they didn’t. “C’mon kid, we’re done here.” They exited Vile Offerings and Matilda was waiting for them next to Starspeed. She wagged her tail happily upon seeing Fabian.
Lager’s horse reappeared and he saddled it. Fabian led them away from the tavern as passers-by eyed them strangely. “Listen, Fabian, we really need to talk, if I’m gonna go along with you on this quest we really need to change your image.”
Fabian had his mind on purchasing supplies, but snapped out of his reverie and turned his head in the direction of Lager’s voice. “What do you mean?”
“You really need to be more aggressive, especially with thugs like that, or else they won’t respect you.”
“My parents always taught me to show respect to people.”
Lager exhaled and scratched his stubbly cheek. “Yes, well that’s fine and dandy but we’re not in the country now, are we? You asked me along and I’ve agreed to serve as your bodyguard and advisor for the duration of this trip. So, please, let me advise you.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“First off, when we went into that dirt shack of a tavern, you acted as if you needed those men.”
“But I did need them.”
“Yes, but you should’ve bargained for a price first, to gauge their interest. If they gave you a negative response you just had to act indifferently and move on. Those brutes could smell your inexperience from a mile away.”
“A mile?”
Lager smiled. “It’s a unit of length measuring distances we use back on Earth.”
“I see, so I should’ve been firmer?”
Lager nodded. “Yes! I believe I’m slowly getting through to you, but we’re not done yet, I have to find a name for you.”
Fabian did not understand what this meant. “But I already have a name.”
“I didn’t mean a new name. In the Star Service all Earth Star Pilots have Call signs: it’s a nickname that identifies you during training exercises and combat.”
“What was your Call sign?”
“Rock7.”
Fabian smiled. “You were named after a crag?”
Lager grinned. “Not exactly, that was my nickname at Star School back on Earth, my classmates said I was always there for them, I was their rock. That was before I earned the dubious nickname of ‘Lager’ here in Rek.”
Fabian thought about Lager’s suggestion. This was his quest and he was the leader. The Earthman had clearly stated it earlier before they had entered Ville Offerings. He decided that a Call sign wouldn’t be so bad. But what would I call myself? He wondered.
They were approaching Outville’s lone trading post, beyond that they would take the East Road toward Darklands. He wanted a Call sign before they departed Outville. “I have a suggestion for a Call sign….boulder sheep!”
“Boulder sheep?” Lager shot him a dazed look. “You’re not going to get anyone’s respect with that Call sign.”
“I thought it would be a good Call sign since I’m a shepherd. Besides, I can’t think of anything else.”
Lager thought hard. “Look Fabian, the world is full of sheep, don’t settle for being a sheep, even if you do reside over those creatures, act more like a Ram.” Lager snapped his fingers. “Wait, that’s what we’ll call you…Ram!”
“Ram?” Fabian paused. “But I don’t have any Rams in my flock.”
“That’s not the point. A ram is a symbol of strength. It protects its ewes and never backs down from a challenge. Plus they’re strong and can do serious damage with their horns.”
“Then so it shall be…I’m Ram!”
“Yeah but it’s gotta sound catchy.” Lager Smirked. “Rock is taken, but you can be Stone…Stone Ram: a strong leader his men can count on to lead them.”
They reached the front of the trading post. A sign hung from the eaves of its thatched roof on it read:
Trading Post 4: We enjoy trading, but currency is preferable.
“So what are you going to buy anyway?” Lager asked as he slid off his holographic horse which disappeared as soon as he had dismounted.
“Food mainly,” Fabian said. “I don’t trust that packaged nourishment you ingest. I was raised on Rekian cuisine.”
“Have it your way, kid, but eventually, we may reach a point where my ‘packaged nourishment’ is all we have left to go on.”
Fabian dismounted and took his crook in hand. Lager bringing up the rear. Matilda, decided to wait outside with Starspeed. “C’mon dog, you’re with us,” Lager said. “Worst that can happen is they tell you to stay outside.” Matilda barked her response and licked Lager’s hand in appreciation. The Earthman wiped her saliva on his sleeve and followed Fabian into the trading post.
***
Inside the trading post was bustling with activity. The sounds of an aggressive patron negotiating prices with a floor clerk reached Fabian’s ears while the mixed smell of spices hung beneath his nostrils. Fabian knew this was the last trading post before Rek city and all the frugal commoners frequented the establishment to avoid the pricy goods of Rek City’s markets.
“I’m gonna have a look around, Fabian, but I’ll have one eye on your back the whole time.”
Lager looked at Matilda and motioned for her to follow him. “Let’s see if I can find some biscuits for you pooch.” Matilda eagerly followed the Earthman down an aisle packed with various rolled carpets from the far reaches of the planet.
On his own, Fabian absorbed his surroundings, using his smell and hearing to guide his way. Truth was, most people didn’t even realize he was blind; he was that good at concealing his shortcoming. Then he remembered what Tildon had told him about his blindness and pushed his feelings of inadequacy out of his thoughts.
The sales counter had patrons waiting to be served and Fabian waited for the counter clerk to complete his transactions with the various customers that were there to purchase provisions and brew. Fabian sensed the line growing smaller as one by one patrons obtained their goods and moved off. Then he stepped up to the counter and presented himself.
“Good day sir,” Fabian said. “I’d like to purchase some supplies for my trip.” There was no sound, except for the sweet smell of pipe tobacco. “Hello?” He heard the sound of someone striking a small tinder and taking a seat in a squeaky chair.
“Can’t you see I’m taking a break, boy?” the clerk said. “Come back later, in the afternoon.” Fabian could not believe his ears, here was this clerk, who had been attentive to previous customers, acting rude towards him, another buyer.
“Then may I speak with the owner of this establishment?”
Fabian heard a cackling noise. It sounded like a crow chocking on a piece of carrion before a series of coughs followed. Fabian heard the clerk get up and he sensed the man leaning over the counter staring at him, while the sweet smell of smoke crowded his nostrils. “I’m in a hurry sir. If you could kindly help me I shall be on my way.”
“Well I’m not in a hurry boy so you’ll just have to wait.”
Fabian felt a blaze of energy rise from his chest and with one swift motion he dropped his crook, leaned over and grabbed the man by the front of his apron. “I said I need some supplies you lazy oaf, I’m on an urgent mission for the King and cannot be delayed any longer!”
The man’s pipe dropped from his lips, spraying sweet fumes over the counter. Fabian kept his firm grip on the man’s apron and exhaled bursts of air into the clerk’s face.
“Yes…yes…my young lord!” the man replied. “What can I get for you…anything, just ask!”
Two floor clerks ran up to Fabian and tried to separate the two, then Lager appeared and pried the two clerks off and grabbed Fabian’s hands. “Easy now, clubber.” Matilda barked at the two men and growled, ba
rring her teeth.
Fabian released his hold. “It’s alright,” the owner said to his two employees, “I was simply apologizing to this young man.” The two floor clerks eyed Fabian and Lager, who was attempting to calm the young upstart.
“I’ve got this under control,” Lager said, “you two can go about your tasks.” The two men turned around and returned to the sales floor.
“I need travel provisions for two weeks,” Fabian said, “also a field tinder box and a tent. The owner nodded obediently and disappeared through a beaded curtain to fetch the goods.
“I leave you alone for a moment and you manage to get into a fight?”
“Just doing what you taught me, being aggressive.”
Lager rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t mean like that, Ram. And I surely didn’t imply for you to use violence.”
“But I asked him very politely and he was ignoring me, even though he had just helped a slew of customers before me.”
“What I saw was an angry young, Ram who was trying to get his way by bullying.”
“Bullying?”
“Yes,” Lager replied. “A term we use back on Earth for those who try to get what they want through force.”
“But how can you say that after what happened back at the tavern, when you hit that giant?”
“That was different, that man was a bully and he was trying to intimidate me and possibly cheat you. I took preventive measures; it comes from experience, Ram.”
Fabian leaned on his crook. “I’m so confused.” He felt tired, as if his body had been stretched on a torture wheel.
Lager patted him on the arm. “I know, but you’ll learn. One thing about anger though is that it should be used sparingly, or not at all. It gives you a burst of energy and strength but it clouds your mind and can make you do stupid things.”
“What would you of done, Lager?”
“It doesn’t matter what I would’ve done, Ram. But I wouldn’t have grabbed someone who was ignoring me, perhaps raised my voice at the most, to get my point across, while remaining calm. When you’re calm, you think much clearer and can react faster.”
The owner returned smiling sycophantically at Fabian and Lager. “Here you are my young friend,” he said, placing the supplies on the counter. Fabian paid the merchant and Lager helped him gather the supplies. A pile of finely-cut platinum stone slabs displayed on an aisle endcap caught Lager’s eye. “What exactly is that?”
The owner smiled. “That my good man is Spirit Stone. I bought those off a man claiming to be a merchant from the Tork Hegemony, who was passing through Rek on his way toward the Southern Empire. He says it is the strongest alloy on the planet. Tork’s elite sky troops, The Assaulters, use it to craft their weapons and armor. It is supposed to protect the user against evil. Since you are a good friend of this young lord here I can give you a generous discount on it.”
“I’ll take all of it; and a nice juicy bone for the dog here.”
Fabian looked at the Earthman confusedly. “What use would Spirit Stone be to you?” he asked.
A thin smile spread across Lager’s face. “You’ll see.”
Four
The sky darkened as the day drew to a close. Fabian was still thinking about what had happened at the trading post and how he had attacked the owner. He had been raised by his parents to be a respectful young man, but now, on his own, in the real world, it seemed that his fine manners would be useless and hinder his cause.
He was grateful that the Earthman had come looking for him. At first he had his doubts, but now it seemed like an excellent addition. Lager and his magical Earth devices would be more than a match for any adversary or challenge they faced.
The walls of Rek City came into view and Lager began sipping from his canteen again. The light evening winds ushered the smell of alcohol toward Fabian, and he wondered what tribulations the Earthman carried on his conscience that made him drink.
“We should make it to the East Road in three hours,” Lager said in between gulps. “Or as you Rekians say, three clocks.”
“Then, we can make camp,” Fabian added. Matilda barked to express delight with her owner’s decision.
They made camp in a small wooded clearing outside. The great walls of Rek City, watching them from a distance. As darkness settled across the heavens Matilda helped Fabian set up his tent by unfolding the tent roll with her front paws. Being a herder dog, she was used to working alongside Fabian. A roasted smell drifted across Fabian’s nose and he saw Lager brewing something over a kettle. “What is that amazing smell?”
Lager looked up from his campfire. The yellow glow from the flames casting highlighting his solemn features. “It’s called coffee.”
“I’d like to try some.”
“Sure. I wasn’t going to drink all of it by myself.” Lager brought over a cup and handed it to Fabian who reveled in the aroma of his newfound love.
“This is heaven,” Fabian said. “And I thought berry juice was delicious; this is by far the best hot drink I’ve ever ingested.”
“You and hundreds of billions of Earth residents since the dawn of time, Ram. I figure I’d brew a pot. Since I’m going to be up all night.”
“I can take first watch if you like; my ears are quite sharp.”
Lager removed the heavy slabs of packaged Spirit Stone from his holographic horse and took out some tools while Matilda chewed on her new bone and Starspeed chomped on dry oats. “That’s alright, I’m going to be working on something so I can cover, you get some rest. Me and Matilda will hold down the fort.”
Fabian chewed on a dry biscuit before finishing up with a juicy slice of Blue Apple Tart. He broke off a piece and fed it to Matilda. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that strange Tork stone, would it?”
Lager began inspecting the surface of the Spirit stone. “Maybe, maybe not. Good night Ram.” Lager then started slicing into the Spirit stone with a laser scalpel.
Fabian looked up at the sky, he longed to see the stars again. Like he had in his dream with Tildon Crossmark. “I wish I could gaze upon the moon,” Fabian said.
“You’re not missing much; the night sky is crowded with Montgolfiers. Your king’s got half his air force guarding Cloud Cathedral. It’s a tactical mistake I warned him of.”
“And how is taking precautions a mistake, Lager?”
Lager deactivated his scalpel. “The Xot have already come and gone, this Blood Reeper fellow has already got what he came for. But the king no longer listens to me, he just keeps me around as a hanger-on and for show.”
“What happened between you and our Gold King?”
“One day he asked for me to remove some of the components from my wrecked ship and have his State Sorcerer study Earth technology; I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because that technology can be dangerous in the wrong hands, what if someone in Rek, someone dishonest, wanted to seize control of the Kingdom? With the technologies available on my ship a handful of zealots could easily conquer this entire planet, and become a menace for many years. No. I already let enough people down; I don’t need that on my conscience as well.”
Fabian nodded before stroking Matilda’s back and hugging her goodnight before retiring to his sleeping pallet. Inside his tent, he closed his eyes, and dreamed of the night sky.
***
The next morning they set off in the first hour of light. Not wanting to waste precious time Lager had urged Fabian to wake during the last hour of darkness to prepare for the last stage of travel on the Crescent Road.
Fabian led his small band out of the woodlands and they pushed their horses to the limit,
in order not to lose Matilda, Fabian had placed her in a make-shift travel bag behind his saddle and, judging by her constant howling, did not enjoy horseback riding.
They continued on the Crescent Road well past the third hour of light. Lager pointed to a road marker shaped in the form of a Crescent moon. Underneath a sign gave the distance to the
next stop on their journey, Diamond Town. After that Crescent Road would merge with the East Road, and take them towards Rek’s Eastern Frontier.
“I’ve never been to Diamond Town,” Fabian said. They allowed their lathered horses to rest and drink and Fabian removed Matilda from her travel bag, much to her relief.
“It’s the center of commerce and trade, and home to Rek’s Stock Market,” Lager replied. He had started his daily drinking again. Fabian wondered how one man could survive on alcohol alone. Lager rarely ate, and when he did it was modest portions. Yet, despite this his Earth Friend rarely exhibited signs of illness or disease. Except when he spoke of himself, it was then Fabian realized that not all scars were physical. “It’s a very wealthy city that supplies most of the minerals for trade and luxury. Just like its name implies they mine diamonds in the hills.”
They journeyed without incident until they reached the outskirts of Diamond Town. When they arrived in Diamond Town they navigated a narrow road that cut through a series of homes and buildings. The people went about their business and paid them no heed. It was a stark contrast from Outville, where everyone had stared at the strange duo of a modestly-dressed adolescent boy traveling with one of the King’s advisors, the enigmatic Earthman who had fallen from the stars.
“Not a very lively bunch,” Lager said. “Strange, the last time I came here it was party central.”
“What do you mean?” Fabian inquired. “Do you detect something odd?”
“No there’s nothing physically wrong with the place, Ram, if that’s what you mean. I’m talking about the people themselves. They look like their souls have been sucked out; I can see it in their faces.”
Fabian nodded. “Perhaps we can obtain information at the nearest Inn. My father always visited them for information, and to gamble sometimes,” Fabian said dolefully. He realized that since he had run off he really hadn’t thought about his parents. They would probably be worried sick about him and no doubt his father would be asking for help in locating him. A pang of guilt washed over him and he started feeling homesick. I’ve caused a mess back home, he thought. But if I come back with the Mane I’ll become a legend. He focused his thoughts to the promise he had made to himself when undertaking the Gold Quest and slowly, the pain in his heart lessened.