Fool's Errand

by David G. Johnson

  “Captain, you next if you please. Then Thatcher, Jeslyn, and I will come through last.” One by one they proceeded through the magical portal.

  Goldain found no resistance from the wall past the shadow, but instead, in a single step he traveled from the upstairs room to an empty stall inside the stable. At least from the smell of dung, the crunch of straw beneath his feet, and the sounds of breathing horses he surmised he was in the stables. Truth was, in the pitch black surrounding him he could have been anywhere for all he knew. Wherever he had emerged, he realized he was still standing very close to the shadow-door exit. Taking three steps forward, he gave some room to those who would come behind.

  In the next moment, he heard footsteps behind him. Spinning instinctively he held his sword in a defensive posture in front of him and whispered blindly. His outstretched sword clanged against metal.

  “Who goes there?”

  “It’s Gideon,” came the response. “I can’t see you, but be careful where you point that sword. I don’t intend to be skewered by my own comrade if I can help it.”

  Sensing there was no danger waiting in the stable, Goldain carefully sheathed his sword just as more footsteps and the sound of bumping bodies came from the direction of the shadow door. The companions jostled in the dark until Melizar finally emerged from the shadow door.

  “What are you all doing just standing around the exit for?” inquired the mage. “Why haven’t you started getting the horses ready?”

  “Uh, because it is dark as a tomb in here,” Goldain replied. “We can’t see a thing.”

  “Aah, another oversight in my plan,” replied Melizar. “I forgot you Adami can’t see in the dark.”

  As soon as it was out of his mouth, Goldain heard the snapping of a jaw as Melizar realized his error.

  “What do you mean you Adami?” quizzed Jeslyn.

  “Jeslyn,” Gideon answered in a commanding tone, “this is one of those shut-up-and-follow moments we discussed. No questions right now, just stick to the plan and keep quiet.”

  Melizar was grateful for Gideon’s attempt to save the situation, but realized he had made possibly a fatal error with the Rajiki girl. He would deal with this child before they returned to Stonehold, if possible.

  His comfort level with his companions had grown so recently that he became careless, forgetting the caution that had served him well thus far in his foray into the surface world. Now a loudmouth Adami teenager had a mystery to solve.

  There was nothing to do about it now. If they did not make this escape, Melizar was certain Tarynna would resolve the problem by killing them all if they were captured trying to escape. He reached into his component pouch and withdrew some glowing lichen.

  “This should provide enough light to move about, but be careful with it. This plant cannot be easily acquired outside my homeland and I want it all back. In the meantime, I will prepare the horses and you all will ride out through the shadow door.”

  “How will we see?” squeaked Jeslyn.

  “There should be enough moonlight breaking through the clouds outside but keep your horses quiet until we are well away from the hostel.”

  Melizar busied himself with readying the horses. Once the mounts were ready, the mage moved to the middle stall on the west wall and began to repeat the process of casting a shadow. He drew the charcoal archway big enough to ride the horses through but was nowhere near tall enough to complete the top of the arch.

  “Need a hand?” Goldain asked.

  “That might assist in the expeditious implementation of our exit.”

  “You only had to ask. But next time use smaller words.”

  Goldain smiled as he gave the mage a leg up to complete the preparation for casting. Once the wall of the stable was covered in the same wriggling shadow as they had seen in the room, Melizar addressed the group.

  “Hand me my lichen before you ride through the shadow door. I will once again need to be last as the portal will close once I pass through.”

  He gathered up the handfuls of glowing plants and stood by the archway, holding the glowing vegetation bundle high enough to light the way for the others.

  “Ride through. Once you are out, I will follow. When you get through the far end, continue west, down the alley to the second north-south street you come to. The gate we came in is to the east, but we will circle far north of the hostel before turning toward the gate.”

  They wound their way through darkened streets back toward the eastern gates of Varynia. Except for the oversight of the darkness, Goldain thought the plan was proceeding better than he expected. Legend said Qarahni possessed a sixth sense that alerted them when the possibility of battle was near. He had never believed the tales before, but without doubt every square inch of his skin was tingling at the thought that any moment they might be discovered and be five against an entire city. A death worthy of skald song to be sure, but if it happened here that song would never be sung.

  As they approached the eastern gates, Goldain could see only a couple of guards on the wall. As Thatcher had predicted, they seemed utterly unconcerned with anything on the inside of the gates. Melizar motioned them forward. The five companions slowly walked their horses up to the wall thirty feet north of the gate. This would be the closest place to the copse of trees, which lay beyond the wall.

  “Gideon,” Melizar whispered, “you are most familiar with the landscape. If you will lead, I can attach the shadowdusk spell to you.”

  Gideon nodded. Melizar silently repeated the steps to create a horse-and-rider-sized shadow door on the eastern wall of the city. After some maneuvering up and down in the stirrups of his fortunately well-disciplined horse, he managed to get a scraggly archway drawn on the wall.

  “It will take a little longer to activate this gate. I need to push my power to the limit to extend the range as far as possible. Thatcher should dismount, readying his repeating crossbow, and the Rajiki girl should ready her bow. If the guards on the wall notice us, there is no choice but to take them out quickly and quietly.”

  Gideon gave Melizar a stern look which Melizar quickly addressed.

  “Yes, captain, I know, and believe me, I will work as quickly and quietly as possible, but we are too close now to risk an alarm. If it is unavoidable, we must act.”

  Gideon nodded reluctantly at the two youths readied their missile weapons and kept their eyes peeled on the area above the gates.

  Melizar took several minutes preparing and mumbling before finally tossing the powder upon the wall. Even after casting the powder against the wall, he continued a mumbled chant, focusing with great intensity at the inside of the charcoal-drawn archway on the city wall.

  For a moment, Goldain thought something must have gone wrong as the wall remained unchanged. Then, slowly, spots of shadowy darkness spread out across the archway as though the wall itself was oozing black shadow from its pores.

  It took another minute or two for the area inside the archway to show no trace of gray stone. Only dark, wriggling shadow stood in front of them.

  Melizar panted as he placed a hand on Gideon’s horse.

  “One moment... must… cast… shadowdusk.”

  The mage swayed under his own weight as he reached once again for his component pouch. He drew out what appeared to be a patch of solid darkness the size of a pocket handkerchief. Mumbling a few words, he gently laid the patch of darkness upon Gideon’s shoulder.

  Within moments, the shadow spread to encompass a radius of fifteen feet in every direction. Goldain noticed that from within the shadow, the world looked normal. He could see outward as though nothing had changed.

  “Mel,” the northerner whispered, “I can see right through this thing.”

  “You are inside. Outsiders cannot see in. Go now,” said the mage, breathing heavily and motioning them through the shadow door.

  Thatcher quickly slung his crossbow and mounted his horse. Gideon bolted through the gate and the rest of the company followed on his heels to s
tay within the veil of shadow.

  As soon as they were through, however, Goldain realized Melizar had not been able to push this end past the copse of trees. In fact, they were five feet from the near side of the trees. There was nothing for it now. As soon as Melizar was through, collapsing the shadow door behind them, Gideon rode forward heading for the opposite side of the copse.

  Atop the city wall, a sleepy guard through bleary eyes saw a hemisphere of shadow suddenly appear forty feet outside the gates. He paused for a moment, rubbed his eyes, and now saw the bubble of darkness moving away. He called to his fellow guardsman on the wall.

  “Hey, take a look at this. What do you make of that? Should we sound the alert?”

  The other guardsman stumbled over.

  “Make of what?”

  By this time, the shadow had managed to circle the small group of trees and had dropped out of sight. The first guard scratched his head.

  “I dunno. I thought I saw something over by those trees. Some kind of big shadow or something. Maybe we should go check.”

  “You go chasing shadows if you want. There is barely a sliver of moonlight tonight, heck, the whole countryside is covered in shadow. I’m going back to my post.”

  The second guard’s post was the tidy corner, where he had been snoozing before being rudely awakened by his cohort. The first guard rubbed his eyes again. Checked one more time to see that everything looked as it should, and then settled back into his watch of the road. Twenty feet below him and thirty feet to the north along the inside wall, the last remnants of a writhing veil of shadow winked out of existence, leaving only a smudgy gray arch drawn on the wall.

  A Long, Hard Road

  Once they were far beyond the line of sight of the city gates, Gideon turned in a large arc back toward the northwest.

  “We cannot ride for two days through the heart of Cyria. Even if we somehow avoid the villages along the way, we still would never get across the bridge without a writ of passage. Our only choice is to cross the delta and into Parynland.”

  “Won’t they be guarded as well?” Goldain asked.

  “We might encounter more random patrols that way, but as last I knew there was no standing force at the delta. The region of Parynland that lies north of the delta is call the hardlands. The terrain is rugged and stretches for many miles. While spies might slip across that way, there is little danger of an army with heavily armored troops or siege engines traversing the hardlands and crossing the delta. Cyria has never considered it a particularly vulnerable border crossing.”

  “Kind of the same reason we couldn’t come this way with Garan and his warhorse in tow, right?” inquired Thatcher.

  Gideon nodded.

  “Well, Captain,” Thatcher continued, “as I said, I can’t swim any better than I can ride, although after several days I am getting passably better at that. Are we going to have any problem crossing?”

  “We shouldn’t,” Gideon replied. “It is the dry season now so there should be several sandbars peeking out of the lowered waters of the river. We will dismount when we get to the delta and walk the horses across. The Westbrook River shouldn’t be more than waist deep at the delta this time of year, and fairly calm in flow right now. Late summer, once the heavy rains come, it is a different story. Right now, with these lighter horses, we should have no problems getting across.”

  Gideon was extremely grateful for Melizar’s D’zarik night vision. Four times during the twenty-five mile ride to the delta, the keen-eyed mage spotted patrols long before they had any hope of noticing the fleeing fivesome.

  Once, had Melizar not been with them, they surely would have been caught. One patrol had stopped and camped among some small trees for the night. No human eyes could have made them out amongst the shadows of the trees.

  “I can’t believe you see a patrol in those shadows,” Thatcher said softly to the mage.

  Gideon was close enough to overhear as the mage leaned in and softly spoke his answer.

  “To my eyes, lad, they may as well be on fire and waving banners saying, ‘Here we are.’”

  They gave the camping patrol a sufficiently wide berth and continued their ride northwest. Gideon was grateful that the curious young Rajiki, the only one of their company who did not know of Melizar’s secret, was either oblivious to the mage’s ability to see enemies so well hidden at night, or her mind was consumed elsewhere. Given Jeslyn’s curious and cantankerous nature, Gideon doubted the matter would be forgotten, but perhaps the youth was gaining some sense of timing. For now, he would give her the benefit of the doubt, but doubted Melizar would be so understanding if he became convinced the girl posed a threat to his secret.

  There was not another soul even within the mage’s extreme sight as they approached the delta. As Gideon had expected, there were a number of sandbars. With a bit of jumping here and there, the nimble youth Thatcher managed to cross without so much as wetting the tops of his boots. The others got through with little more trouble than the rogue had, and soon they were on the northern banks of the Westbrook River and outside the borders of Cyria.

  “Where to now, captain?” Goldain asked.

  “While no doubt we have business in Paryn’s Gate, we first need to regroup with the others, share what we all have discovered, and then decide who goes where.”

  “Shouldn’t we camp and rest now that we are safely inside Parynland?” Thatcher asked, rubbing his backside.

  “What’s the matter, hero?” Jeslyn taunted. “Are you saddle-sore or something?”

  “Well…it’s just…” Thatcher stumbled along, flushing red again. “Oh, shut up, Jeslyn. Nobody asked you.”

  “Knock it off you two, before I stuff you both into a sack and let you fight it out in there.” Goldain snapped.

  Gideon, ignoring the exchange, wheeled his horse pointing eastward.

  “We will want to put as much distance between us and the delta as possible, and be out of sight of the river long before we near the bridge. Once Tarynna discovers our disappearance, there is no telling what the reaction might be. It is well after midnight now. Normally we would be about three days from Stonehold, but the horses are fairly well rested and these Cyrian mounts look strong.”

  Their bandit horses had been exchanged for horses kept for the Cyrian Express riders. They were fit and well-trained for traveling fast and hard.

  “If we give them rest stops regularly,” Gideon continued, “we should be able to shave a half-day at least off the journey and arrive on tired mounts around dawn day after tomorrow. It will be a hard sixty hours or so, but if there is any chance that there are elements within Parynland mixed up in this, we cannot delay gathering our companions from Stonehold and speeding to Paryn’s Gate to warn the king.”

  “Captain if I may?” Goldain interjected.

  “What is it, Goldain?”

  “Nobody knows more about horses here than Jeslyn. Jes, from what you have seen of these mounts, can they push on for two and a half days at that pace?”

  “The horses are strong enough, and seem well conditioned. But traveling like that will require frequent rests and something beyond just grass in their belly.”

  “We have some oats in the saddlebags,” Gideon answered. “And there will be a number of farms near the river where we can trade for more on the way. We can rest the horses during those stops so it won’t cost us any time. It will be a while until we get out of the hardlands, but they are narrower east-west than north-south. Melizar, I will need you out front picking as level and clear a trail as possible.”

  The mage nodded and started out at an easy trot. Gideon and company followed behind. They cleared the hardlands after two hours and pushed on with the horses until well after dawn. Resting under the shade of some trees the horses grazed in the grassy Parynland meadows. Both the adventurers and their mounts caught the chance for a short rest.

  Melizar waited until Jeslyn settled down and dozed off before approaching the others.

  “Yo
u all get some rest, I will cover the watches.”

  “Won’t you need sleep as well?” Goldain asked.

  “D’zarik sleep differently. Like the V’rassi, we only need real sleep once every week or so. I slept on the trail from the bridge to Varynia. I won’t need to sleep again for several more days.”

  “You are full of surprises, Mel” Thatcher said shaking his head and preparing his bedding. “Full of surprises.”

  While his daylight vision was severely hampered by the light of the sun, him being awake and watching was better than the whole company being caught unawares. Fortunately if pursuit was underway, they were far enough away not to show any signs just yet. Melizar felt a strange sense of accomplishment that they had escaped a city full of hostiles without killing anyway. It definitely was less bloody than the way he would have chosen to do it, but he could not argue with the results. Before midday, they were back on horseback and pushing onward.

  “I wonder if I will ever be able to use a chair again,” quipped Thatcher as he stood up gingerly in the stirrups to relieve the soreness of his backside.

  “Hah, are you kidding?” Jeslyn chided. “I’m better rested on a ride like this than any night in a stuffy hostel on a creaky old bed.”

  “I wish I could shove her out of that saddle,” Thatcher whispered to Melizar as they rode on.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I’d probably unhorse myself trying.”

  “Hmm,” Melizar pondered. “I somehow thought your answer would be that it would be the wrong thing to do and Gideon would get upset.”

  “Well, yeah, that too. But mostly because I don’t think I could pull it off and get away with it.”

  “I find your honesty refreshing,” Melizar chuckled.

  Melizar mused that the surface dwellers were not all the same. Thatcher seemed to be morally closer to him than the honor-driven Qarahni Prince Goldain or the holy warrior Gideon. Humans were free-willed, as the legends went, but even within the circle of his fellow adventurers, Melizar could see a wide spectrum of behaviors. The surface world was a puzzling place, very different from the clear-cut self-interest that prevailed in D’zarik culture.