by Travis Kerr
Why was I out of position on that attack, he wondered? Did I really lose my balance, as Tara had said?
For some reason he couldn’t quite remember it.
The adrenaline must be affecting me, he thought.
Now that the sparring was over, he barely remembered what had happened during the fight. He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the cobwebs that seemed to be covering his memories like a veil. As much as he tried, however, he found that he couldn’t shake them.
Next time I’ll have to pay closer attention to my movements, he vowed to himself.
The light of the day was beginning to fade, so Tara decided it might be best not to spar any longer. Instead she spent about another half hour helping him with his footwork, which she had said was where he needed the most work. Having the correct footwork was a quintessential part of a proper defense, she insisted.
Malik has been telling me the same thing, he recalled.
"Mind if I ask, why the sudden interest in my training?” he asked Tara suddenly. He had wondered why Malik wanted him to stay with them, but he didn’t think he was going to get an answer from the assassin any time soon.
Perhaps I might have better luck getting answers from her.
"For some reason Malik has taken a liking to you. Judging by what he was saying to you earlier, it looks like he hopes you'll stay with us for a while longer." She seemed a bit reluctant to give him more information, but at the same time understood why he wanted to know more.
"I don't really know why," she said. "Sometimes I have no idea why he does things the way he does. I've known him for a long time, and one thing that I've learned is that there's always a reason for the things he does, even if no one else can understand it until later.
"If he wants you around, I can almost guarantee there's a reason for it, but he's not going to tell you what that is. You'll have to figure it out for yourself. I can suggest one thing you might want to consider. If he thinks you should go with him to see the client, you should listen to him. Whatever you learn there might be important to you someday."
"What about you? Do you like having me around?"
Tara chuckled. "You certainly do ask a lot of questions, don't you? You seem like a pleasant enough person to me. Still, whether or not you stay with us longer is not really my call. Malik is in charge, and I'll go with whatever he suggests. If you're asking for my opinion alone, I can't say I know you well enough to trust you yet, but you seem all right so far. I think that you could find a place with us, and if he wants you to meet the client, I'm guessing he's probably thinking the same thing."
Roland, who had spent all of life with another name, considered that.
A place with them, she had said. Someplace where I could fit in; where I belonged.
He had spent his entire life thinking that no such place would ever exist.
He certainly had never fit in with the sorvinians where he grew up, not even with those his own age. His parents farm had seemed like home to him, but he never felt any desire to become a farmer. He would not have stayed there all his life, even if he could have. Finding a place with people who accepted him, even people living the insane life these two seemed to live, certainly had an appeal to it.
Perhaps I’ll go and meet with Malik's client after all, he thought.
Tara said that it could be important to him, she just didn't know how. Roland certainly didn't either, but he couldn't see how it could hurt anything. He knew only one thing for certain; Malik wasn’t going to tell him anything until he was good and ready to.
He looked over at Malik, who was busy feeding Trick small strips of venison saved from an animal they had killed two days before. The dragonling sat, perched heavily on his shoulder, its thick tail wrapped tightly around the assassin’s neck. The orange crest on its neck was folded down so that only the deep red on the outside edge was visible.
Each piece of meat that Malik fed him was taken gently from his fingers, either by a carefully placed tooth or picked up daintily in one of Trick’s bird-like claws. Roland had watched Malik feed the animal every night the same way. Never once had Trick accidentally nipped his master, and Roland was certain that the dragonling took pains not to.
Tara had walked downstream after their sparring, he had assumed to fish. The feral woman ate any type of meat, it seemed, though in the time they had spent together he had noticed that she seemed to prefer fish or fowl over game. Even when they had meat in their packs she still would often stop along waterways to gain for herself what she wanted most.
Roland was more certain than ever that the packs his companions carried were magically enhanced. He had seen them put fresh meat into the packs, then two days later take it out again without any spoilage at all. No normal pack could do that. He hadn’t known that magic packs could, but then he had not met anyone else who had them, so how could he have known?
Shortly after sundown, before the light had faded completely, Tara returned, her form barely visible in the failing light. In her hand she held a long, thin bodied fish with large, sharp scales and a narrow, long toothed snout. Roland guessed the animal had to be nearly five feet long from nose to tail, almost as long as the woman who carried it was tall. He stood, assuming that he would have to kill and clean the fish, but he wasn't going to have to take care of this one.
Malik glanced up at her return, chuckling as she held up the huge monster triumphantly. "So you've brought us back an alligator gar," he laughed. "You do realize it's going to take half the night to clean that thing? Couldn't you have just brought us back a catfish or two?"
"We can always sell the scales to the fletcher," She replied merrily, her tail twitching back and forth in excitement. "It'll be worth the extra work. Besides, it's just so tasty!"
"OK, I must be missing something," Roland said as Tara dropped the fish, still flipping and flopping, on the ground next to the small fire. "What's with the fish?"
"You must have never seen a gar," Malik answered. "These fish have scales as hard as iron and as sharp as razors. To clean them you have to carefully cut down the belly, and then skin them from the inside. Sometimes they are used as a cheap alternative to iron or steel for arrowheads. They're not strong enough to use against armored soldiers, but they are good enough for hunting.
“Were it up to me I wouldn't bother with it. We won't get much for these scales. Unfortunately for me, this fish is Tara's favorite food. She'll eat this entire fish in one meal if I let her. Tara doesn't ask for much. Helping her with this is a little enough thing to ask for."
Roland couldn't disagree. He had been traveling with the pair for a month and, aside from an irritable disposition when hungry, he had never seen her act demanding, or really ask either of them for anything. Now she seemed positively giddy with the prospect of having this creature as a meal. The monstrous fish did not seem pleased with the idea of becoming her dinner, however, and it turned this way and that, snapping its long jaws together loudly.
Malik turned the fish on its side and plunged a dagger directly into the underside of its head, being unusually careful to avoid its sharp teeth. The animal thrashed hard one last time before finally going still. Malik didn't waste a moment. As the creature breathed its last breath, he slowly and methodically slit it vertically down its belly.
Roland could see it was a difficult procedure. Malik had to cut through the meat and the skin from the inside, then carefully part the scales as he cut. Roland understood what Malik had meant when he said that the scales were as hard as iron. On the rare occasion that Malik's dagger tried to go through one it stopped as if it had hit a reinforced shield. As hard as the scales on the fish’s belly were, the large triangular scales along its back and sides appeared to be far worse, being both larger and thicker.
Roland was grateful that his companions didn't make him clean this one. Once Malik had finished gutting the giant he had set to work removing the meat from the inside, cutting it off in thick slabs. Tara started cooking the first piece o
ver the fire, while Trick seemed quite happy gorging himself on the soft organs.
Roland finished off his own meal, a generous plate of the various, delicious vegetables that he had picked while they collected herbs, and lay down heavily, his broad back to the fire. He tried to ignore the sound of sizzling meat behind him. It didn’t bother him really, not like it had before, but it was rather loud for someone who was attempting to go to sleep. Exhaustion can ignore most things, however, and in no time at all he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Long after Roland had fallen asleep despite the rank smell of fish, Malik was still cleaning the beast. Finally finishing after nearly two hours of work, he laid the heavy scales out near the fire to dry. Tara munched happily on the cooked fish steaks long into the night, while Trick lay curled in a nearby tree, snoring loudly. Malik pulled a generous portion of the meat off of the fire, savoring the strong taste.
"So why is it that you want to keep Roland with us?" Tara asked between bites.
"I have my reasons Tara," Malik answered. "There's more to him than what you might think, at least if I'm right about who I think he is."
"I have a feeling that you're not going to tell me," She laughed, tossing a thick rib bone into the water behind her.
"Not until I know more," he said mysteriously.
"I've known you long enough to know that there's more to what you've been doing than you've told me. Are you ever going to let me in? Roland is right about one thing. You have so many layers covering who you really are, no one can ever figure out you out. Do you even remember yourself?"
"I know exactly who I am," he responded defensively. "I have my reasons for keeping that hidden."
"Well, when you're ready to tell someone else, I hope you know you have at least one person you can talk to. I would like to think that the two of us are friends. You might even be my only friend. You're the only person I've trusted with the secret of my past, the whole thing anyway. You can trust me with yours too you know."
"I do think of you as a friend," Malik said softly. "Sorry if I've sometimes been a little sharp with you. There are things in my past I'm not comfortable talking about. Someday I'm sure that I'll be ready to talk about everything. When I'm ready, you'll be the first to know. For right now, it's probably safer for both of us if no one knows, not even you."
"Should I assume that the reason you want to keep Roland with us has something to do with your past then?" Tara asked quietly. As she expected, silence was the only answer she received.
Chapter Six
When Roland awoke he was surprised to find, for the first time since they had started traveling together, that Tara was still asleep. Normally his companions were already awake and ready to go before he opened his eyes. The feral woman had her face tucked into the inside of her elbow, shielding her eyes from the light of the morning sun. As he looked at her one of her ears twitched involuntarily, as if brushing away some unseen insect.
"She ate nearly half of that fish last night," Malik said from behind him. He turned to find the man leaning against a tree, meticulously running a dagger across a small whetstone. Roland noticed that it was the same dagger that he had used the night before to clean the gar, though he knew that the assassin had several daggers hidden on his person. "She'll probably be asleep for at least another hour or two. She doesn't normally eat like that, but when she does it takes her a while to sleep it off. You might as well relax for a bit."
Roland reached into his pack, pulling out the last orange he had left. He had been able to refill his pack with more fruit only a few days before, but he was already starting to get sick of them. The night before had been the first time in nearly a week that he had been able to eat a meal of cooked vegetables. Every night before that had been fruit, mostly oranges.
On the farm he had grown up eating more green vegetables than any thing else. Tart citrus fruits were more of a treat than a staple, but it seemed as if on this road the opposite tended to be true. He tossed the fruit back into his pack, not hungry enough to really want to eat it.
"I would have thought you would still be asleep as well," he commented instead. "I remember you said it would take half the night to clean that fish. Aren't you still tired?"
"I didn't sleep," Malik answered. "I stayed up last night and kept watch. There are dangerous animals that live out in these swamps and waterways. The people that move up and down the road we’re on can be even worse. Tara and I have been switching off watches every night. So far we haven't seen a soul, and we should consider ourselves lucky for that. Tara and I can take care of ourselves, but you can still use a bit more training before testing your skills on the type of men who would frequent that road."
"Why haven't you given me a watch?" Roland asked. If he was going to be a part of the group he wanted to pull his own weight. Tara had suggested the night before that he might have a place with his two companions.
How can I hope to really be a part of the group if I don't take part in all aspects of our travel?
"The type of men that would risk attacking a group of people along this road, even a group this small, know how to stay hidden in the dark. Tara and I have both been doing this for a long time. We've dealt with those type of people before. We know what to watch for, and how to deal with them. Many of them would recognize me in this persona as well, especially this close to the city. Anyone who's given us trouble before and survived won't bother us a second time. They wouldn't know you."
"Tara told me yesterday that she thinks you want me to stay with you two permanently, or at least for a while longer. Was she right?"
Malik paused for a moment before answering. "That would be up to you," he said finally. "I told you that once before. I'm not going to tell you to stay. If you stay it will be because you chose to."
"That wasn't what I was asking. What I'm asking is, do you want me to stay?"
"I do, though my reasons are my own. I don't think it would be wise to divulge them, at least not yet. I want to know you better before trusting you with my secrets. If you choose to stay you may, in time, learn those reasons. I'll leave that choice to you." Malik turned away, and Roland knew from the time he had spent with the man that he would say no more on the subject.
"Should I be worried about anything when we reach the city gates?" he asked instead.
"We shouldn't have any problems," Malik answered. "Just let me do all of the talking and we'll be fine."
"What about the Thane? I know none of us will be dressed in their uniforms going into the city, but couldn't someone have seen us on the road? If word somehow got back to the city, they might be expecting you to have a Thane guard. Should I keep my eyes out for trouble?"
Malik chuckled. "I like the fact that you're thinking ahead, however there's no need to worry. If anyone came within sight of us I would have known. Trick would have seen them. His eyes are better than ours ever could be. If he had seen someone on the road he would have warned me. He knows we are trying to keep a low profile."
"You act as if he can understand every word you say and knows what it is that you do," Roland commented jokingly.
"That's because he does," Malik replied lightly. It took Roland a moment to realized that the man was completely serious. "Dragonlings aren't like normal animals. They were created by magic, and like many magical beings they don't really fit into the mold of other animals. They are as intelligent as humans are, or very nearly so. They just lack the proper vocal ability for speech. True dragons are said to be the same way, though I wouldn't want to get close enough to one to ask."
"How do you know that they are that smart?" Roland asked, amazed. "Is that why you keep one as a pet?"
"Hardly a pet, though I can see why someone might not know the difference. I had no idea that Trick would be that intelligent when I first found his egg. I wasn't even planning on keeping him originally. I was going to take the egg to the market to sell. He hatched along the way. When a dragonling egg first hatches they look for their mother, wh
o would under normal circumstances be there to greet them. They would stay with the mother for the first few months, until they are old enough to care for themselves.
"When Trick hatched he saw me as his mother. I could see it in the little creature's eyes. So I kept him. I fed him and kept him safe. Later, when he had gotten older, he watched as I hunted and in no time was joining me in the hunt. On one hunt I started talking to him, just giving instructions on what I wished I could get him to do. To my surprise he followed them word for word."
"Couldn't that just be a coincidence?" Roland asked skeptically. "It would, after all, be in his nature to hunt, and if they learn from their mothers naturally he could have just been learning from you."
"Which is exactly what I thought at first. However, since then he has proven time and again that he can understand at least some of what is said to him. Certainly more than any animal I have ever heard of. Dogs can be trained to understand some commands, but have you ever heard of one that can understand complex strategies? He has even come up with a few on his own, though I admit I didn't understand them really until afterward. I wasn't looking for it, so I didn't see his intelligence for what it really was. Now he's a valued member of our group. His eyes and ears are both better than Tara's, and hers are far better than mine, or yours for that matter."
"What do you mean when you say he came up with strategies?"
"Well, as a perfect example, I once had an unfortunate run in with someone almost as skilled as I am. The man had been sent to kill me. I didn't even know I had a contract out on me at the time. As soon as the man walked in, Trick knew what he was about. How he knew I couldn't tell you. He was sitting in the rafters of the bar I was in at the time. Just as the man pulled out his dagger, which he could easily have tossed into my back, Trick flew down and bit him right in the ass. Probably the second funniest thing I've ever seen.
"Trick had done a great job distracting the man, at least that's what I think he meant to do. As soon as the man turned he flew directly into his face. He tore off the man's fake beard, grabbed his glued on mustache, and flew back up to the rafters with it. Then he put it on his own face and started chirping loudly. It might not have been the greatest impression of all time, but it was without a doubt the absolute funniest thing I've ever seen.