by T. A. Uner
The young Stealer bowed her head apologetically. “I apologize, Hero Fabian, I came to find you and say farewell. I am heading back to Paz; the Gold Marshall was kind enough to provide me with an armed escort for my return trip home. I guess he felt grateful when my government agreed to send military supplies to aid against the Reeper’s armies.”
“You’re leaving?”
She nodded. “I am sorry that we cannot complete our Quest; but if you are ever in Paz, I shall make sure you are treated as an honored guest in the Chancellor’s Mansion.”
“You’re not going back to Paz, not unless you want to that is,” Fabian said confidently.
“I’m not sure I understand, Hero Fabian, the Marshall himself has said you’re to begin serving in his army.”
Fabian raised his hand. “I’m not serving in anyone’s army; we have a Quest to resume, and I’m not about to abandon it just because some arrogant Marshall wants me to.”
Marella looked at Fabian with a mixture of surprise and awe. “But…if I am correct, the laws of your country state that any conscript who fails to report to military duty or deserts is subject to firing squad execution.”
Fabian smiled behind his helm. The confidence that he had lacked around both Picotte and Aders had resurfaced. “That’s if they catch us, Marella.”
“I’m not sure I follow, Hero Fabian.”
“Where is Lager?” Fabian said.
“I believe he’s in the command pavilion.”
“Good, go find him and come to the stables, we’re leaving.”
***
When Lager saw Fabian waiting for him outside the camp’s stables his bloodshot eyes smiled as if he had stumbled across a treasure trove of various liquors.
“So I was sitting at my new desk, inside the command pavilion, trying my best to act interested in my new gig, when Marella sneaks in and tells me about how you’ve decided to fly this bird coup.”
“It’s good to see you too, Lager.” The Earthman shook Fabian’s and patted him on the back.
“Although I really don’t know how you expect us to get past the camp’s perimeter.”
“I was hoping we could use one of your holographic images, Lager, you know, to fool them.”
Lager scratched the back of his head. “Sounds like a plan, Ram, but there’s just one problem, and I haven’t told you this before but, we really need to start conserving my bag of tricks.”
Fabian couldn’t help but smile at the strange Earth colloquialism, but having spent enough time with Lager he understood what his friend was trying to tell him. “I understand; we’ll probably be needing that technology once we get to the Darklands.”
Lager smiled sheepishly. “Technology is great and all, but once you become too dependent on it that’s when the trouble begins. Honestly Ram, I hardly ever used it while I was advising the King, and this Picotte, he’s even worse than the King, pressuring me to summon my ship, Star Raven, by remote so he can use it against the Xot Marauder squadrons.”
“Would that be so bad?” Marella added. “It might even alter the outcome of this war; I would think you’d be willing to help your Reklander allies.”
Lager sighed deeply. “I think I need to have a pep talk with you too, little lady; but for the record let’s just say I did summon my ship and it did win their little battle here. What’s to keep Rek from asking for its use again? That’s the drawback of instant power, once you have a taste of it, you want another, it’s addictive—especially for a civilization at Rek’s stage of industrial development.”
They entered the stables and Fabian asked for Starspeed and two other mounts, one for Marella and another for Lager who was done using his holographic horse for the time being. The stable supervisor at first demanded signed paperwork to release Starspeed and issue two mounts. But when Fabian asked again, his tone was quite intimidating, no doubt enhanced by the Spirit Stone’s properties. The supervisor nodded and ordered the horses to be brought.
“No time to get any provisions,” Marella said. “I should’ve thought of that earlier and pilfered the larder; it was barely guarded, which is strange, considering this is a heavily armed military camp for three large armies.”
“What is going on here?”
Fabian and his friends turned around. Major Aders was standing behind them, looking quite flustered. “SilverSword, why didn’t you report to the Quartermaster? And what are these individuals doing here? You Commander are supposed to be part of his Excellency’s staff, and you, Paz urchin, are supposed to be on your way back to your country!”
“Well there’s been a change in plans, Addy,” Lager said. “We’re leaving this party, and we’re headed for an exciting rave out east.”
The stable hands brought the horses but Aders ordered them to hold. “Where are you taking those horses?” he asked Fabian angrily.
“Away from here, Major,” Fabian replied. “So if you’d step aside we shall be leaving.”
Aders drew his pistol and pointed it at Fabian. “There is absolutely no way I am about to permit that—you will return with me and these two will go their own separate ways.”
Fabian felt a surge of anger rise in his throat before he was able to force it back down to wherever it had originated. “You do not command me or my friends, Major.”
“We’ll see about that, young fool, I am the one holding the gun.”
With one swift arc Fabian’s Ram staff knocked the weapon out of Ader’s hand. The Major gasped and rubbed his hand. “You savage, I’ll have you locked up for insubordination.”
Fabian threw an upper-cut and it knocked Aders backwards. He landed in a drinking trough with a splash. Marella giggled loudly while Lager, the supervisor and stable hands looked on in disbelief. “Consider that my resignation, Major!”
***
Without any further interruptions they rode off from the camp. Once they reached the checkpoint the two guards on duty drew their rifles but then held their fire when they saw that Fabian and his friends were headed toward the battle zone. “You’ll never make it out alive!” one of the guards called out.
As soon as the military camp was out of eyesight Fabian slowed Starspeed to a trot and Lager and Marella followed suit. “I don’t suppose you plan on going through the battle zone, do you Ram?” Lager asked.
“You know me better than that; how about using that scanner of yours to plot a new route that allows us to circumvent the war zone.”
Lager took out his scanner and eyed the readings on its screen. “This new course will save us half a day.” Lager looked up from his device and gritted his teeth. “You’re not going to like this, Ram.”
“What is it?” Both Fabian and Marella drew closer to Lager, flanking his horse atop their mounts, trying to get a glimpse at the readings.
“It’ll take us through the Caverns of Gomorrah.”
Fabian nodded. “A necessary task we must complete.”
“What’s so bad about it?” Marella inquired.
“Pretty much everything,” Lager said. “I’ve never been there but even I’ve heard stories about that place…bad stories.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question, Lager.”
Fabian flipped lifted his faceplate and scratched his nose. “Everyone from Rek has been told ghost stories about the Caverns of Gomorrah, Marella. Usually horrific tales meant to scare misbehaving little children; to frighten them into behaving better. The ancient fables say the caverns are filled with negative spirits that takes hold of travelers who attempt to traverse them, and that’s not all, there are also strange beasts that are rumored to reside within it.”
“Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me, Hero Fabian,” Marella said.
“Perhaps.” Fabian eyed Lager’s scanner again. “And there’s no other way around them?”
Lager shook his head. “Not unless you want to head deep south, and I’m detecting massive Xot lifesigns; they probably control the airspace down there.”
“We don’t hav
e time to waste; Rek could be under the Reeper’s rule by then.” Fabian exhaled. So this is what leadership is all about? He thought. “The Caverns it is then.”
Neither Lager or Marella looked excited.
***
After resting the horses for a few tocks they resumed their journey. The temperature seemed to increase the deeper they penetrated east. Lager regularly scanned the horizon with his digital binoculars.
“Anything?” Fabian asked. Matilda watched the Earthman from her travel sack as he surveyed the landscape. Then they heard a noise from above. At first it sounded like an explosion before it switched to a shrieking sound. Lager shifted his observations to the sky and grimaced.
“Hmmmmm.”
“What is it Lager?” now Marella’s voice was filled with apprehension, something Fabian never expected from the placid Stealer.
“At first they looked like old-style Earth jets, but then I realized there are none on this planet. But I think it’s something bad…real bad.”
“Let me have a look,” Marella said. Lager gave her the binoculars and she swept the sky. The shrieking noise returned and this time it was her turn to grimace. “Ohh demon’s curse,” she cursed. “Its two Xot scouts.”
Fabian looked up at the sky, hoping he could spot something with his helm sight. He focused his eyes and saw two black streaks cruising through the sky. “I see them,” he said, “but why would they fly so high?”
“Probably to avoid detection,” Marella said.
Lager took his digital binoculars back from her. “Dollface is right. They probably don’t think anyone can spot them that high, after all Rek doesn’t have anything as advanced as digital binoculars that can pick objects out of the sky with as much detail as this can.”
“I don’t like the sound of these Xot scouts,” Fabian said. “We should get moving.”
“If they did pick us up it won’t matter how fast we move,” Lager added. “Remember what Picotte said—this is occupied territory. Besides we’re still at least a day away from the Caverns, better to find some sort of terrain to take refuge under till the danger passes.”
“I am somewhat familiar with this terrain and I can tell you we won’t find anything except flatlands, nothing to take cover under,” Marella said.
Fabian made up his mind. “Lager you mentioned saving energy until we needed it, well, I think now is a good time to draw up some of your Earth technology and make us difficult to detect.”
“I knew the time would come, Ram, but, I didn’t think it would be this soon. But if I may make a recommendation, let’s wait a little bit longer, at least until we really need it.”
“Very well.” They continued, this time pushing their steeds harder. Fabian did not like wearing out the animals, especially a horse of Starspeed’s pedigree, but they had to get to the caverns. And if they could accomplish this without being detected, then so much the better.
The East Road soon expanded to two lanes, one for opposite direction of travel, but war had come, and apart from them there was no activity. Lager continued to scan the area while riding his horse, Fabian prayed that his friend would not pick up signs of enemy pursuit. Be it Xot, Wasp, or whatever foul minions which served the Blood Reeper. Soon black pock marks began dotting the landscape around them. As they continued pushing their horses, they encountered a large smoking crater that had destroyed a sizeable section of the East Road. “What the hell?” Lager said. He dismounted and looked at the charred ground. “Looks like the Reeper’s air force has been busy.”
“Destroying our roads,” Fabian said. “We’re a peaceful Kingdom, no threat to him, why must he feel the need to conquer us?”
“Because without war he would have nothing.” Lager eyed the smoking section of East Road with contempt. “Earth’s history has been littered with such individuals: Attila the Hun, Napoleon, Hitler, Genghis Khan. All these men brought death and destruction upon foreign lands to further their own interests, or the interests of their nations. It’s the only way they can stay in power; the Blood Reeper is of the same flawed stock.”
“I’m going to make him pay.” Fabian clenched his fist and punched his palm.
“You mean, we’re going to make him pay, Hero Fabian,” Marella added.
“I like your thinking Marella.”
“Be careful what you wish for kids,” Lager chimed in. “This Blood Reeper is one nasty operator, if his troops are under orders to commit such atrocious acts against another nation.”
“Perhaps we should continue, Hero Fabian; standing around here will do us no good, and expedite our being detected by Xot.”
They navigated around the damaged sections of the East Road, and continued onwards. The flat terrain they were traveling on began gaining elevation until it became a sloped hill. Fabian’s ears picked up the same sound of bombardment he had heard back at the military camp. After they had crested a ridge they gazed upon the scene in the distance.
An attack wing of Xot Marauders were doing battle with a Cloud Squadron of Golden Montgolfiers. While the Montgolfiers were heavily armed. The Xot were much faster and their fiery attacks were inflicting considerable damage. Before his eyes Fabian witnessed two of the King’s finest erupt into flames. Two Xot easily evaded sunfire bolts and used their scythes to inflict damage. Even with their armored surfaces the Montgolfiers were no match for such an agile opponent, and when they realized their defeat was imminent they began retreating west, closer towards unoccupied airspace. The Xot were relentless though and followed them, managing to shoot one more Montgolfier down. It spiraled out of control like a wayward comet before crashing into the terrain before erupting into a ball of fire and black smoke.
A few tocks later the air battle was moving northwestern, away from the East Road. Fabian wished he and his friends could help the Montgolfiers and their brave crews, but they would have more than enough battles to fight in their future. Just as they were about to resume their Gold Quest a cloud of dust exploded around them. They heard the sound of a tremor before six heavily-armed cavalry soldiers appeared behind them. They sat atop Blood Bulls, creatures indigenous to the Darklands. He had never seen one in real life, but once Fabian had spoken with one of the other shepherds that had once served as a border guard at The Last Outpost, which was located near Rek’s border with the Darklands. The shepherd had described him the creatures, which were as red as their name implied. Black curved horns and muscular legs added to their imposing stature. The soldiers atop them wore black masks that remarkably shone as if they were made of brighter metals and was forged in the shape of a wasp head. They carried shields and swords, javelins and spears, and wore black leather armor. The red-eyed skull sigil of the Blood Reeper appeared on their shields.
“What have we here?” said the lead Wasp. “Travelers in occupied territory? What business do you have in the Reeper Lord’s domain?”
You mean the Rek lands you wrongfully invaded, Fabian thought, but he decided to keep that opinion to himself. For now. “We’re traders,” Fabian said.
“Traders?” the Wasp said. Two of his charges snickered at Fabian. “What business do Traders have in a war zone? Unless, you are here to sell weapons?” The Wasps all stared at Fabian, Lager, and Marella for a few ticks. Fabian wished he could read their expressions, but their battle masks did not reveal any secrets.
“I think they’re lying,” one of the other Wasps said. He urged his blood bull forward, closer toward Marella. “This one looks too delicate to be wandering around in a warzone; but I just might claim her as spoils.” He sniggered again and Fabian clenched his Ram Staff and put himself between the Wasp and Marella. “Don’t get to close, simpleton,” the Wasp said insolently. “I may just take your head off for fun.”
Fabian bit his tongue to prevent a retort from slipping through his lips. “Excuse me sir, but me and my other companion here are not arms dealers but dealers in women and wine. Marella here is from Pazland. She is a dancer and singer of the highest caliber, and persona
l favorite of the Chancellor.” Marella smiled upon learning of her newfound occupation.
The lead Wasp scoffed. “A dancer from Paz? Bah! Paz is known for only one thing: espionage—are you a spy…wench? Come here to collect information on our Master’s new dominion?”
Fabian’s heart rose and fell in his chest. It felt as if his armor was tightening across his skin. But Marella kept calm. She had undoubtedly been extensively trained in espionage, so being an expert liar under adverse conditions was to be expected. “If you gentlemen would allow me, I would be happy to demonstrate my talents.”
“Are you sure you wish to expend your skills on these fellows, Marella?” Lager said. His horse trotted toward her and he raised his hands non-threateningly toward the Wasps. “I mean I seriously doubt they would appreciate the delicacy of one of your fine performances, why waste it here?”
The lead Wasp raised a gloved finger and pointed it threateningly at Lager. “You speak too much, alien; say…where are you from anyways? You don’t look like anyone that resides on this planet.”
“I’m from a little archipelago in the Great Sea,” Lager replied before helping Marella dismount. She began stretching her muscles, preparing herself for…what? Did her plan have any chance of working? Fabian didn’t doubt her ability to play the part, but would the Wasps fall prey to her subterfuge?
“Be quick about it, wench,” the lead Wasp said, “me and my brothers have a battle to return to; more Reklanders to kill.”
I bet you do, Fabian thought. I wouldn’t mind ridding these lands of your filth, you cursed creatures.
Marella took out some feathers from her waist pouch and began twirling them around with her delicate fingers. Lager started clapping and after pressing a button on his belt strange music began playing. The Wasps grumbled at first but then grew cataleptic as the performance continued. “She’s a regular whirling Dervish, isn’t she?” Lager said, smiling.