The Staff of Sakatha

by Tom Liberman

  The second goblin stood and stared for a moment as his mouth tried to say something but no words came out. It then pulled out a small dirk from its belt. Sorus tried to pull his sword out of the first goblin’s belly, but the creature had fallen sidewise, and the blade was twisted and wouldn’t easily slide out.

  At that moment Jon came around the corner with a mammoth stone sword, somehow both thick and sharp, in his hand. The gray knight’s eyes were calm, his face bore a cool almost relaxed smile, and his movements seemed to be slowed somehow to the eyes of Sorus. Jon was a good fifteen feet away, yet he covered the distance in three apparently leisurely strides, and was on the goblin before Sorus could even open his mouth. The gray sword licked out and the goblin was in two pieces, cut in half at the waist.

  “Come on,” said Jon his voice quiet and calm. “There might be more up in the hills,” and then leapt off.

  Sorus tried to follow but, while the gray knight appeared to move long, sluggish strides, he leapt from rock to rock with a speed that belied belief and he was quickly up and out of Sorus’s sight.

  “Never seen anyone move like that,” said Germanius’ voice from his right, and Sorus jumped from fright and raised his slim blade which had somehow loosed itself from the goblin boy.

  “By The Mare, don’t startle me so,” said Sorus as he looked up to where Jon had vanished up into the hills.

  “He moves like a ram, or a cougar, and that sword, looks heavy enough to cut iron but he wields it like a toy. If we had a brace of soldiers like that, by the Black Horse, the orcs would tremble!”

  By the time the two arrived fifty yards up the hill Jon stood in a small clearing where a campfire and gear indicated the creatures had spent the night. One of them was dead, his head crushed so badly that it took Sorus a moment to realize that it was a goblin, and a second was on his knees with his hands held up in surrender.

  “One of them put up a fight,” said Jon as he pointed with the mammoth blade, “but his friend thought better of it.”

  “They killed Mikus,” said Sorus.

  “They’re just boys, goblin boys, younger than you,” said Germanius with a shake of his head as walked over to the survivor and talked to him in the guttural language of the creatures.

  “You speak that?” said Jon to Sorus and the brewer shook his head in the negative. “No, not much. Germanius said something about blood but I’m not following it much. The goblin wants mercy, that’s ‘hugara’ that he keeps saying. Germanius is saying something about killing our friend and wanting payment but I’m not sure.”

  At that point the old warrior turned to Jon and smiled. “You were right, there’s something big going on up in the hills. Those boys said there is a dragon up there and a child of the dragons gave orders to the goblins and orcs to come down from the mountain and attack the freeriders,” he said as his smile broadened. “A dragon, can you imagine that. What better way to die than fighting a dragon.”

  “Better than getting killed by a goblin with a sling,” said Sorus. “Poor Mikus. I never liked him much and his father is an ass but that’s no way for a squire of Elakargul to die. Should we kill him?” said Sorus and pointed with his blade to the goblin. “If we don’t, won’t he just head back up to his tribe and tell them what happened?”

  “I don’t like killing in cold blood,” said Jon, his huge blade sheathed. “Let him go. We’ll pile up a cairn for Mikus and follow the little rotter up into the hills. He’ll lead us right to them.”

  “Careful, Jon,” said Germanius in a whisper, his face away from the goblin boy, “he might speak Elakargul better than he lets on although I doubt it. You’re right though, give the bastard a head start and follow his trail. We’ll come up on them at night, take them down, and find out where this dragon is holed up. By the Black Horse, a dragon! Jon, you’re a man true to his word.”

  Jon nodded his head and made a motion towards the little goblin who immediately peed all over himself, “Scat” he said and the creature got the idea well enough and fled headlong up the trail.

  It took the about ten minutes to pile rocks on the body and find a suitable stone to carve Mikus’s name on. Germanius said something over the body but Sorus couldn’t bring himself to take part in the ceremony, more than to stand by with a dazed expression on his face, and soon they were on their way up the hill as they followed the trail of the little goblin. The creature didn’t do much to hide his path in its headlong flight and they were able to follow it with relative ease. By the time they cleared a small crest it was near dark, and Jon and Germanius picked a spot next to a small rise to tie up the horses.

  “Get out the food but no fire,” said Jon to Sorus. “Germanius, you help him. I’m going up to find their cave or village or whatever. It shouldn’t be hard once it gets dark. I’ll be back in an hour at the most. I’ll call out like that little thrush bird that’s always around town, the trilla trilla sound so as you don’t kill me, right?”

  “Got it,” said Sorus and suddenly felt his heart beat at a normal pace for the first time since the attack. He looked at Germanius who busily set up the camp and then he suddenly cried, great sobs shaking his shoulders and tears streaming down his face. The old warrior didn’t even look up and continued about his business while the strange episode continued for quite some time. Sorus tried to stop himself but each time broke more deeply into tears until after ten minutes he finally regained control of his emotions and began to help the old warrior. “I’m sorry about that,” he said and pulled open a tin of flat biscuits good for sustenance but not particularly tasty.

  “It’s just fine,” said Germanius with a pat on the boy’s back. “First time you’ve killed anyone?”

  Sorus nodded, “And the first time I’ve seen one of my friends get killed. It happened so fast, Mikus was just walking along and then he was dead, that could have been me. I could be dead right now.”

  Germanius looked at the boy for a moment and then nodded his head, “Or me, or Jon, but it wasn’t, and that’s the way it is. Either you’ll get used to it or you’ll be the dead one, either way there’s not much to be done.”

  Sorus sat for a moment on his haunches. “I always thought it would be more glorious,” he finally said.

  “It’s never glorious in the doing,” said Germanius. “It’s in the remembering. That’s what’s glorious. Mikus is dead but he died helping us survive and we have to remember that. If we don’t then it was a wasted death. Jon’ll be back soon and then we’re gonna go up there and kill a bunch more of ‘em, maybe find a dragon, maybe find that Staff of Sakatha thing that Jon talked about, or maybe not. Maybe we’ll all die. Do you think you’re doing it for a reason?”

  “I thought I was doing it for me,” said Sorus and thought for a long moment his eyes shut as he listened to the crickets that began their nightly song. “But, maybe I’m doing it for Elakargul, maybe wanting to be a knight isn’t about me at all, it’s about our country, about being free from the orcs, the old masters. I guess being a knight is good for me too, Shia might love me, people might respect me but being a hero, doing things, getting famous, that really helps the country more than me, I guess. I’m not sure. I have to think about it, I guess.”

  “You’re a good lad,” said Germanius. “You keep with Jon there, maybe when this is all over you head north with him back to Tanelorn, make yourself a life. You fought well back there but I’m not going to knight you yet. You can do better and you will, and then I’ll knight you before I die. Even if that damned dragon grabs me in his talons the way the great black had Tractus Brokenhand the day he saved Simious Coppercoin, I’ll live long enough to make you a knight.”

  “Thank you, Sir Germanius,” said Sorus. “I’ll … I’ll try and do better next time.”

  Germanius nodded his head and pursed his lips, “You will boy, you’ll do fine, but remember what I said, you stay with that Jon Gray, that boy is something special. I’ve never seen his equal, not among the best of my old friends. That Tanelorn he t
alks about, his father, and now he’s down here to collect that thing, there is something going on in the world Sorus. I don’t know what it is and I won’t live to see what comes out of it, but there is something going on and you should be part of it. Promise me you’ll stick with Jon no matter what.”

  “I will,” said Sorus. “He moves so fast and you didn’t see it, but he cut that goblin in half with a flick of his wrist, he didn’t even swing hard, the blade moved so fast I didn’t see it. That sword is thicker than my leg, how can it cut like that?”

  “Magic, Old Imperial magic,” said Germanius. “I’ve seen enough of it over the years to recognize it.”

  “Jon said his father was collecting relics from the Old Empire, putting them away where they can’t influence people,” said Sorus as the darkness slowly deepened. The air was noticeably cooler even just this short distance into the mountain. “Here, we should put on our woolies and thick socks,” said Sorus and moved over to the horses. “And get out Jon’s also, he’ll be wanting them when he gets back.”

  “You’re right son,” said Germanius. “I’m an old fool. My blood is a boil from the battle and I’m not thinking clearly,” he said and moved over to help Sorus unpack gear from the horses.

  “That old magic is dangerous,” mused Germanius as they grabbed the mountain gear. “They could do things in the old days, you’ve never been to Doria, have ya?”

  Sorus shook his head and said, “I hope someday.”

  “The towers there, so high they’re in the clouds, and walkways between ‘em. It’s all magic, Old Empire magic from before men remember, from before Akiona I, before everything,” said Germanius and nodded his head as his voice slowly tailed off into silence.

  “I heard that kings once ruled in Doria,” said Sorus, “is that true?”

  Germanius shrugged his shoulders, “If so, it don’t much matter to you and me. It’s queens now and has been for as long as anyone remembers.”

  “I guess,” said Sorus pulling out the last of the winter gear. He began to take off his clothes and put on the light wool underthings one layer at a time. “Gets cold quick, eh Germanius?” he said with a smile as he hopped into a pair of thick denim pants.

  “It’ll be colder yet, but first it’ll be hot and bloody,” said Germanius as Sorus suddenly heard the call of the Ridgewayia Thrush and Jon Gray appeared around the corner, a narrow smile on his face.

  “I found them,” he said, spotted the woolen clothes laid out on a rock and began to quickly change. “I thought we’d wait for a few hours until they’re mostly sleeping and then ambush.”

  “How many are there and what’s their defenses?” said Germanius his hand on the hilt of his sword, “and was there any dragon sign?”

  Jon shook his head. “I didn’t see a dragon but I saw a child of the dragons, big fella with wings and the rest of the dragon look, not a swamp reptile man by any stretch, or one of them little ones either. He was six foot at least and mostly green and white scales. They’re holed up in a cave about a mile from here. I watched them for a bit but there’s no telling how many are in there. I’d guess no more than a dozen judging by how many came out to piss while I was watching, but maybe they’ve got strong bladders.”

  “A dozen?” said Sorus looking back and forth between Jon and Germanius. “That seems like a lot, we’re only three.”

  “Surprise is the difference,” said Germanius. “Besides, you saw the goblin fellow run earlier, we hit ‘em hard and they’ll fold up sure enough, and then we find the dragon.”

  “Don’t kill the dragon child,” said Jon. “I want to talk to him about the Staff of Sakatha, if any one knows it’ll be him.”

  “I’ve don’t know much about them,” said Sorus, “does it really have wings?”

  “We’ve got some south of us in the swamps,” said Jon. “Mostly they are just scaled folk with tails, not really much like a dragon, more like a lizard with two arms, two legs, and a head. The tough ones can have wings and sometimes they breathe fire or lightning so you gotta watch out. A bunch of them attacked Tanelorn a few years back when I was just a kid. I remember riding out with my dad and some of the gray druids but I didn’t do anything in the battle. Anyway, this one looked like he might be one of those tough ones with wings and lightning breath maybe.”

  “A couple of years ago a snake looking one came through Black Dale but I was just five or six. I remember it had a forked tongue and a head like a snake but a body like a man except with scales,” said Sorus, his eyes half closed as he remembered the story.

  “There are all kinds of children of the dragon,” said Germanius with a smile and shrug of his shoulder. “They die when you stick a sword in their belly just like everyone else.”

  “Don’t kill him,” Jon repeated as he pulled on the last of his mountain clothes. “I want to talk to him about the staff.”

  “You kin speak with the children of the dragon?” said Germanius and eyed the boy closely.

  “My brother gave me this amulet,” said Jon, reaching beneath his woolen cloak and pulling out a small dragon shaped pendant. “If I wear this I can talk their lingo I guess,” he went on with a shrug of his shoulders. “If he knows where that staff is then I’ll have it out of him one way or the other.”

  “Torture mostly don’t work,” said Germanius as he sat down on a nearby rock, pulled out a small knife, and began to whittle on a piece of wood.

  “Works just fine from my memory,” said Jon as he paced back and forth and smacked his fist into his palm.

  “Nope,” said Germanius, his old hands still skilled, as the stick slowly became a long, four legged, creature with a head full of teeth. “They just tell you what they think you want to hear, which is mostly just lies. After they tell you so much you pretty much don’t know what is a lie and what is true.”

  Jon was silent for a while and Sorus looked at Germanius, “It sounds like you’ve seen something like that before?”

  “When I was a kid, I wasn’t born in Elakargul,” said the old man. “I was a slave to the insect men; we worked the hives, us little ones with small hands were good for rooting out the bugs that got into the leaf farms. They’d whip us if we tried to eat any of the produce instead of the bugs. So, we’d mostly just lie but if the beating got too bad we’d say anything, say anyone was doing it whether they were or weren’t, it didn’t much matter, you just say anything to stop the pain.”

  Jon and Sorus were silent as the old warrior continued to carve at the stick and it began to take the shape of a crocodile. “I won’t be part a no torture,” he said as he neared the end of his project.

  Jon nodded his head, “I won’t torture anyone. Not now, not ever again. You’ve got my word as a gray knight on that Sir Germanius,” he said and looked at the old man with steady eyes.

  Germanius said nothing but continued to whittle away until the thing looked just like a crocodile, “Show him this and see which way he looks,” said Germanius. “That’s one good way, another is to be nice, sometimes folks is glad to have a friend and they’ll say things.”

  “How long before they’re asleep?” said Sorus and looked back and forth between Jon and Germanius.

  “Hours,” said Germanius. “Sit down, do something, take your mind away, I like to whittle.”

  “I like to make beer,” said Sorus with a smile on his face.

  Germanius nodded, “I approve.”

  Jon smiled as well, “I don’t think we’ve got the right ingredients or the equipment for that, too bad though. That’s a mighty fine brew you’ve got at the Smooth Stride. You didn’t bring a jug along by any chance?”

  Sorus laughed, “Not a jug, no malt, no mash tun, not even a keg,” he said and held his arms out and shook his head. “Still, when this is all said and done I’ll brew us all up something tasty and we can drink it together.”

  “Say a toast for me,” said Germanius. “I won’t be there, but I’ll be there.”

  “We’ll do that,” said Jon and loo
ked at the old warrior, “and we’ll find that dragon for you to fight as well. I can’t promise you anything too big but it’ll be a dragon at least.”

  “Now, you boys,” said the old warrior pulling out a couple of more long sticks he had picked up along the day’s journey, “What’d ya know about whittling?”

  Hours later they stood together outside a small cave a bit further up the hillside and watched the firelight from inside flicker in reds and oranges against the walls. A single creature, goblin, orc, or a mix between, stood at the cave entrance half asleep as he tried to keep his head up. He was so heavily bundled in woolens that he could barely move his arms, and Sorus had to keep from laughing as the beast tried to go to the bathroom without soiling itself. It was a near thing and they weren’t sure if he accomplished the mission or not.

  Jon nodded to Sorus who fingered a long dagger as they watched, “Behind him and through the throat so he can’t cry out, just like Germanius showed you. Hold his head back so the blood has free flow.”

  Sorus nodded his head and his hands were steady as he slowly moved down the rocky slope to where the creature stomped his feet for a moment, walked a few steps before it leaned back against the cave wall, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Sorus came up to the sentinel quickly, slipped the blade under his neck, and slit his throat with a quick motion. From even the short distance away that Germanius and Jon stood, they couldn’t make out the flow of blood, and the creature’s legs immediately gave way as the young brewer lowered him silently to the floor. A few seconds later all three of them stood outside the cave together.

  Jon drew the massive stone sword from its scabbard and nodded his head in approval to Sorus while Germanius drew his own steel blade and the three moved into the cave with quick steps although not quite at a run. A few screams rang out a moment later, there was a strange little tinkling sound as blade hit blade, but only seconds later it was over.