Oath Keeper

by Jefferson Smith

  A moment later, a slow smile crept across his Gnomish features. “No, truly,” he said, as the smile grew. “Power is sometimes not where it looks to be at all.”

  With excitement in his eyes, the Ambassador turned and rushed from the room to summon his servants. The time had come at last for the game to change.

  Chapter 14

  For the next two days, Eliza’s cock-eyed Flame of the Dragon team did their collective best to raise an army from among the Wasketchin villages, but no matter how hard they tried, they were never able to repeat the success they’d had on that first night with the boys. They tried repeating the hiker-berry ritual, they tried heart-felt speeches, they tried commanding obedience by daylight, they tried begging for help by firelight. Yet in two whole days, and in half a dozen villages or more, they never once picked up so much as a single new follower. The only thing they’d managed to attract was pity, and one badly worn pair of boots for Eliza, that were at least one size too big and made the cuts on her feet hurt even more when sweat pooled inside them, making everything damp and salty.

  She felt pathetic.

  After watching yet another group of wide-eyed villagers gape at her in embarrassed disinterest, and seeing that once again, nobody was going to step forward, Eliza simply nodded, mute as ever, and strode majestically off into the Forest, which, with the lowering sun, was now dark and ominous. They had agreed earlier that it would be better to sleep in a tree with mystique and dignity intact rather than accept the hospitality of pity. Not because their pride was too great, but because Eliza was pretty sure that people would never join a cause led by pathetic hobos. Their plan to spend another night wedged into a tree however, was abandoned when Scraw flapped back out of the darkness after scouting ahead.

  There is an empty traveler’s dehn just a little ways further on, Mardu sent, and Eliza was only too happy to alter course toward it.

  Like the hut the boys had been tending, these simple shelters were scattered throughout the Forest as part of a network of way-stations, free for the use of any traveler who came across them. They weren’t as fancy as the dehns that were maintained in the villages, but they were decent shelter, and best of all—

  “A bed!” Eliza shouted, when she pulled the door-flap open to reveal the low, moss-filled luxury inside. The Body of the Flame flopped herself down onto the moss and groaned in tired satisfaction as the earthy scent of clean soil and greenery puffed up around her. She hadn’t actually seen the bed, of course. Not at night, in the shadowy interior of a leaf-covered hut. But Scraw had seen it for her, which was almost the same. Over the last few days, the group had worked out a way to share some of Scraw’s sensory perceptions with her directly, and it turned out that the crow had better night vision than she did, which they’d been using to good advantage by traveling later into the evenings than would have been possible relying on Eliza’s vision alone. They’d covered a lot of ground in two days.

  But not anymore.

  “That’s the last time I’m doing the spooky prophet routine,” she said, as she pressed her cheek against the cool, dry moss. All she could think about was how nice it would be to sleep tonight on a pillow that was not made of bark-covered oak.

  Scraw pecked at the ground, digging between the roots of one of the wall trees. Suddenly, Eliza got an image of a fat, juicy grub in the soil, along with the sensation of delight. Culinary delight.

  “Eww! Scraw, you are so gross!” Eliza dialed down the flow of imagery coming from the hungry bird and rolled over onto her back.

  Why are you here? The simple question caught Eliza off guard.

  “No idea,” she said. “I’m still not even sure I believe in here.”

  “K-k-keh!” Scraw laughed.

  It is a serious question, Mardu sent. Why have you come to this world?

  “Come?” Eliza sputtered, rolling back over to face Scraw’s general direction in the darkness. “Sister, I did not come here. I was brought here. Sincerely Yours wasn’t even consulted.”

  Truly?

  “One hundred percent, truly. One minute I’m following the scariest nun in history out to the car, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up in some dark wet stink-hole with a monkey-perv leaning over my face.”

  A Gnome.

  “Yeah, I know that. Now. But we don’t have Gnomes where I come from. We don’t have anything—just us and animals. So imagine waking up, thinking you’re safe in your own bed, in a world that has nothing that could possibly be standing over you except another person, and seeing that reaching for you instead.” Eliza sent Mardu her memory of that terrifying moment. She knew now that Gnomes weren’t anywhere near as big as he had seemed at the time, and she knew they didn’t really have glowing eyes or fangs dripping with blood either. The only thing accurate about the image was the matted fuzz on his face, and the size of his nose. But it was an honest memory. It really did show what she had first seen—and felt—when she’d opened her eyes. Eliza felt oddly satisfied when she felt Mardu shudder in understanding.

  How did you escape him?

  “Using Eliza’s patented Pylon Law of Threat Management and Information Gathering: when you get confused, just stand still. Pretend to be a deaf mute and wait. People aren’t very careful around someone they think is an idiot, and sooner or later, they’ll slip up. Monster boy didn’t speak my language, so he couldn’t exactly tell me anything useful, but I did convince him I was hungry. So when he went off to find something disgusting for me to eat, I hunted around for anything big enough to hit him with that didn’t go squish when I touched it—not an easy task in a Gnome hole, let me tell you—but I did it. And when he came back, I clobbered him and took off.”

  Which is when I found you.

  “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  So you were truly a stranger here. You knew nobody, you had no stake in the people or in the events, yet you agreed to assist me. Why?

  Eliza shrugged in the darkness. “I got tired of playing pylon in this perv-infested wonderland, I guess. You seemed to know what was going on, and you looked like you could use the help.”

  I looked like a crazy crow fighting for control of his own body. And losing.

  “K-k-k-keh!” Scraw said. Eliza laughed with him.

  “See, that’s the reason right there. You speak Eliza. And I guess I kind of needed that. I’m used to being a second banana. Lone banana never really worked for me.” Eliza couldn’t help leaking images of Tayna and her own warm feeling of happiness, knowing that T was enjoying her new freedom. Probably somewhere exciting.

  “Besides,” she added. “Once it started to look like I might have to topple a king or two to get out of here, step one became finding a partner. One who speaks the same language, and ideally, one who could point out which kings I need to topple. So see? We were made for each other. How could I resist?”

  Then in your mind, it is me who is helping you.

  “My agenda, your agenda. Pfft! Who cares? We like each other and we’re both getting what we want. Isn’t that what great partnerships are all about?”

  But if you really do not wish to continue in our efforts…

  “Right.” Eliza sighed as the wind came out of her sails. “But if I don’t, I won’t really be much help to you anymore, will I?” Then she shrugged to herself. “Okay. I get it. So I guess we will be repeating the carny barker and her silver-tongued crow act. But it’s not getting us anywhere. Why keep trying?”

  Because we have not finished, Mardu sent. But there was something else too. Eliza could sense it as a sort of flavor, underneath the words. Mardu was waiting for something, but when she asked, the Flame of the Dragon was not sure. She knew only that there was… something, still to come.

  But if you had to guess? Eliza sent.

  A sign, Mardu replied. I would say I am waiting for a sign.

  But of what, or to what purpose, she could not say.

  * * *

  Mehklok wriggled himself deeper into the soft, damp soil along the edge
of the stream and sighed. It felt so good to have its oozing caress around him once more. For two days he had been tracking that blasted sky witch, and where had she gone, first thing? Why, straight up out of the Throat and into the crop-starved trees, that’s where. Selfish witch didn’t have the decency stay in a place where he could at least find some real food.

  It was getting harder and harder to track her too. As the ground had become flatter, the witch had started making better time, and she no longer seemed to be wandering aimlessly either. Her track now moved in straight lines, as though she had rediscovered some forgotten errand and now hurried to attend to it. But it still made no sense. She was moving quickly, yes, but in seemingly random directions. First to one squalid little skyfolk village and then to another, but crossing back over her path time and again. It was like she was hurrying to find something, but had no idea where it might be. And the faster she moved, the faster he had to move too. To keep pace. No consideration at all for his aging legs or his Gnomileshi complexion that couldn’t be out in the air all day without some decent mud breaks.

  The little Gnome reached out and plucked a centipede from the rotting stump that jutted from the bank beside him, and popped it into his mouth. Without the convenience of the sky crop, nor any time to scavenge, he’d been reduced to eating wild bugs as he could find them, but it wasn’t enough. He’d been feeling dizzy and dreamy lately. A good mud soak was just what he needed. Just an hour or two. Just until the sun was up high enough that the forest leaves would shade him properly. Then he would find her. But until then… Mehklok closed his eyes and sank blissfully into a damp and happy dream of dead things.

  “Scraw!”

  “Mago spiss, barg flummic ambusgarrent!”

  The sound of feet crashing through the brush and an argument of some incomprehensible kind dragged Mehklok back up from his slumber. Just his luck. He’d closed his eyes for no more than ten seconds before some local bird harvester… Then his eyes snapped fully open.

  It was her!

  Mehklok struggled to sit up, but the squelching mud resisted his sudden movement and held him firmly in place as the witch woman stormed by along the opposite bank. A crow swooped past her, squawking and garbling at her, and she spouted back some gibberish or other in turn. As though either one could understand the pox-rotting blather they were spewing. But there she was! Almost close enough to touch!

  Oh curse her and all her sorcery! She had done this on purpose, he just knew it. She had waited, just out of sight, until he’d gotten himself good and properly buried in his lovely little muck, and then she’d popped out, just to tease him with her damnable proximity.

  Mehklok didn’t want to draw her attention though. No. Now that she’d gotten the surprise on him, he’d have to wait, let her think she’d gotten away with it. But he was a Gnome with a mission now. He knew where she was, and he could see what direction she was heading. As soon as she was gone, he’d hop up out of this hole and go after her. Crow or no crow, by high-sun he would catch her and get his world back in order. And by day’s end, she’d be safely back in that blasted merchant’s cart he’d found her in. Let that cloud-strutting skite have her, for all the trouble she’d caused. And the sooner done, the better for it.

  Yes sir. Tomorrow, Mehklok would be a free Gnome. Of course, he still had to redisanimate her. Couldn’t return a live body where a dead one was expected now, could he?

  As the sorceress disappeared into the trees, still squabbling with her bird, Mehklok lifted himself up from out of his hole, as quickly as the mud would allow. There was no time to waste. He had work to do. The little Gnome reached down and patted the harvesting blade that still hung from his belt. At least it would be happy work.

  With the sounds of distant crow calls leading him on, Mehklok took up the pursuit, and plunged on into the disgusting forest.

  * * *

  “… and together we shall restore the Oath of Kings!”

  Mehklok watched from cover as the witch-girl lowered her arms. His mouth hung slack with the revelation he’d just heard. This changed everything! He could scarcely believe his own eyes and ears. Such power! The bird had actually spoken for her! Not only was she a terrifying sorceress, as he had suspected from the beginning, but an actual warrior queen as well, come back from death to lead her people into battle in their hour of need! Mehklok had to lean against a tree for support. His head was swimming with awe. And to think he’d been planning to redisanimate her and return her body to the f’znat he’d stolen it from. What a fool he’d almost been!

  The villagers surged forward at the end of her speech, gathering around the woman as though transfixed by her message, but what did they know? Only one such as he could appreciate… Wait a blink. Had she said she was a queen? Returned from death? That stirred a memory somewhere. What was it about dead queens… ? Mehklok massaged his nose with his fingers, squeezing the flesh, trying to force more blood up into his brain, to make it think harder. There was a memory in there, buried deep, and it had the taste of something important. What was it?

  The girl smiled at the ignorant peasants pressing in around her, yet despite their enthusiasm, Mehklok noticed that she remained silent. A smiling mute, gesturing, pointing— That’s it! The prophecy! The sky reeled around the little Gnome and the trees spun. His knees melted into water and his heart hammered in his chest. Delirious with hope, the Gnome chaplain lurched forward out of the underbrush.

  “The prophecy was true!” he wailed, as he fell to his knees in the dirt before her. With hands raised up in divine supplication, Mehklok shuffled forward on his knees. Tears streamed down his face. Real tears! Spontaneously wept! Yet another miracle to prove the truth of this revelation. “You’ve come back!” he cried. “Oh holiest of days! You’ve come back to us! Tell me how I may be of service.”

  The witch woman screamed and hit him with the bird.

  * * *

  For the first time since they had started making these speeches three days ago, trying to drum up support, Eliza lowered her arms and looked out at the crowd to see something she hadn’t seen before. Hope. Not on every face certainly, but it was there. Most of the villagers still stuck to the usual script, wandering away quickly when she was finished, and refusing to make eye contact—the kind of behavior most people reserved for crazy folks encountered on a sidewalk. But this time, two or three of them actually came closer when she was done. Mardu did her best to interpret their words for her as they all spoke at once.

  “Is it true? Can the Oath really be restored?”

  “Don’t we need all the kings to agree?”

  “My sister and her boys were taken. I-I’d like to help. Somehow.”

  What’s different today? Eliza sent.

  You are, Mardu replied. You sounded different today. Like…

  Like what?

  Like you believe. It is no longer a game you play to fill your day.

  But that was a bit more truth than Eliza wanted to think about, so she changed the topic.

  We better get to the ritual then, before they change their minds.

  Turning her attention back to the villagers pressing in around her, Eliza gave them a silent smile, and gestured toward a small sack lying on the ground behind them. It had been given to her at one of the previous villages, although more out of pity than any urge to support their cause. To its supply of dried travel foods, Eliza had also added a handful of hiker-berries, earlier that morning, but people were pressing so closely to her now that she couldn’t step past them to reach the sack. She finally managed to make herself understood to one young man, who turned and looked back where she was pointing.

  “The sack? Why of course, Prophetess. Let me just—”

  But they were interrupted by an terrifying shriek that rose from the shrubbery behind her. From the corner of her eye, Eliza saw a shape lurch out of the undergrowth and then fall to the ground. She turned slowly, hampered by the press of bodies around her, but at last she managed to get a clear look at the
newcomer.

  “It’s him!” she cried. And then, acting on pure reflex, she grabbed the heaviest thing she could find, and threw it at him.

  The monster Gnome-perv had found her.

  * * *

  In the ensuing confusion, three things happened, more or less on top of each other. First, Scraw bounced unceremoniously off the Gnome’s face. In his haste to get away, the terrified crow managed to beat the little creep mercilessly with wild, flapping wings, and he didn’t hold back on the scratching claws, either. But Eliza didn’t see much of that, because she was already looking around frantically for something bigger and heavier to hit him with.

  The second thing that happened was that, upon seeing a Gnome come stumbling out of the bush at them, the villagers ran. All of them. Most ran away, toward the forest or back toward their huts, but the man who had talked about losing his sister did not. He made a beeline for the Gnome, and the look on his face spoke plainly. Eliza saw no reason to interfere.

  And then the third thing happened. It was a voice. An exasperated, irritated, frustrated, and above all, an angry voice, that barked an unintelligible command.

  As though he had been shot, Scraw folded up and dropped to the forest floor, where he lay unmoving. The little Gnome pitched forward onto his face, whimpering and whining, either unable or unwilling to look up. The villagers also collapsed, as though they had suddenly changed their minds about fleeing, and had called a spontaneous stage-dive practice on the forest floor instead.

  Through the confusion, Eliza stood tall and did her best to not look shocked by what was happening. The voice had been Mardu’s, of course, speaking some mystic command directly into the minds of everyone in sight. But since everyone thought the command had come from her, Eliza had to play the part. Quickly drawing her face into a fearsome scowl, she glared around in all directions as she took one large step toward the Gnome and drew back a foot to kick him.