by P. A. Wilson
She heard quiet noises on the other side of her room wall. Quickly braiding her hair, she joined the two people sitting around a stone bowl full of water. “Welcome, Lady Madeline,” Blu said beckoning her to sit on the vacant stool. “Thank you for agreeing to join us.”
Madeline sat and peered at the still surface of the water; it was dark as ink. She couldn’t see through the liquid to the bottom of the shallow bowl.
“Do not touch the surface,” Arabela said quickly as Madeline leaned further over. “It is dangerous.”
Madeline drew back and looked around the tent. The doorway was closed, and the light from outside was seeping through the thin fabric walls. The light was so diffused there were no shadows in the room.
Blu laid a thin indigo cloth over the bowl, not touching the surface. “We will scry for our enemy first, before the shadows come. I have placed protections over the tent but they will only last a short while. We cannot risk stronger magic.”
“Isn’t scrying strong magic?” Madeline asked, thinking of the few fantasy novels she had read.
“The magic is minimal,” Blu said, passing a burning stick of incense over the cloth. “It is a matter of focus more than magic.”
“Will I be able to see what is happening?”
Blu muttered a few words she couldn’t hear over the smoke. “I see now why Lady Arabela has such difficulty with you. Please, keep your questions until we are finished here. Now, you must concentrate your thoughts on the bowl. I will direct the vision, but you need to drive all thoughts and questions from your mind.”
“Okay,” Madeline had learned how to meditate a few months ago, at the suggestion of her mentor, something about stress relief.
“You may see things here you do not wish to see. I ask that you school your reactions until the vision is over. Too violent a reaction may draw the attention of Goddard to our work.”
“Got it,” Madeline said. “I need a minute to find my center and then I’ll be ready.”
“One minute, then,” Blu agreed, his face calm and neutral as he waited, fingers pinching the center of the cloth waiting to remove it.
Madeline looked at Arabela. Her face was also calm, her eyes looking towards the cloth covered bowl. Focusing on the center of the cloth Madeline closed her eyes. Slowly breathing in and out, she emptied her mind of questions and thoughts, visualizing them as snowflakes melting on the ground. When she was ready, she opened her eyes and nodded. Blu muttered two more words as he drew the cloth straight up and dropped it on the floor behind him.
Madeline had expected to see misty clouds or something in the water, but it was more like the changing of a channel on a television. The surface of the liquid was dark, and then it was not. On the still liquid, she could see a picture of a room in a castle somewhere. The stone walls were draped in tapestries and the floor covered with straw and fur pelts.
She watched a man sitting at a table eating. He was tall and broad shouldered. His long, red-blonde hair was braided into thin ropes with bones woven in to them. His face was clean-shaven. She could see the detail of the scars on his arms and chest. They looked like badly healed slashes. She almost cried out when he seemed to look up at her, his deep blue eyes moved past her, landing on a black-haired woman sitting on the floor.
He said something to her, but Madeline heard nothing. The woman scurried away on her knees, bent over facing the floor. The man threw the contents of his plate at her and stood up. Madeline realized his proportions were not right for a human; his upper body was too long, his legs shorter in the thigh than the calf.
She could see he was shouting now. His face contorted in rage. Even though she couldn’t hear his words, Madeline felt her stomach tighten in remembered fear of her father’s temper. Her father had been an unforgiving man, a man with standards no one was ever able to meet.
A teenage girl ran into the scene, her hands thrown out in plea. She wore rags and a series of bruises on her arms, legs, and face. She moved between the man and the woman and knelt in a pose of fear. Madeline thought she was offering herself as a victim to spare the woman. The man grabbed the girl and picked her up, throwing her out of their line of sight. He grasped the woman’s black stringy hair and slapped her, hard, across the face. Madeline couldn’t see her face because the woman’s back was to her.
The man laughed and said something else. He reached down and grabbed the woman and lifted her, he ripped her dress, more a collection of rags, and buried his face in her large breasts. The woman’s body went rigid and then seemed to melt against the man.
The edges of the vision started to waver and then the liquid turned back to the black opaque substance.
“Lady Madeline,” Arabela’s voice cut through the emptiness Madeline felt. “Madeline, are you all right? Madeline?”
She blinked and felt tears fall. Someone pressed a white cloth on her face and she felt a hand rubbing her back. “I’ll be okay,” she assured them. “I’ll be fine. That was just a bit intense.”
“I did not expect that you would react this way,” Blu said. “I would not have included you if I had known your sensitivity. Please, tell me what you saw.”
She wiped her tears, and accepted a mug of wine from Arabela. “A man, he was abusing two women, well, really a young girl and a woman.”
“You saw Sayer Goddard,” Arabela confirmed. “The two women were his current lovers.”
“Is that the way these Scree treat their women? It was horrible, but the one woman seemed to willingly participate at the end.”
“No,” Blu answered. “Sayer Goddard treats his wives more respectfully, the way most Scree treat the women who carry on the bloodline. What you saw was how he takes his pleasure. Not all Scree are so vile unless they are in the middle of a battle. Most are harsh but fair masters to the women they capture as slaves. You must remember that being Scree is not evil, just as being a human is not good. The evil here is Sayer Goddard, not Scree.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure if I have to, I can find the motivation to kill him. That’s a good thing, I guess.” She sat taller on the stool. “I won’t let what I saw weaken me. I will do what it takes, don’t worry.”
Blu carefully poured the contents of the bowl into a flask and then rinsed the bowl with clean water before wiping it dry. “It is good to hear. You should know that I saw only Goddard. Lady Arabela, what did you see, exactly?”
“Goddard,” she said, spitting out the name. “He was at table; he threw his plate at someone I couldn’t see.”
“I must think on why Lady Madeline saw so much more. It is possible she is touched with some power. If that is the case she will need a teacher.”
“What do you mean?” Madeline watched the tiny man as he packed away all the equipment.
“You saw much more than we did, and the vision lasted longer for you. I think that if I had not broken your concentration you would still be watching the scene.” He placed the bag with his equipment by the side of the door curtain. “It is curious that someone from a far world would possess any magical talent at all, and yet, if you do have talent, it is powerful.”
“Great, now I’m a witch,” she said rolling her eyes.
“We will see,” Blu said not matching her sarcastic tone. “I must meditate on this. I will speak with you about it when I have an answer. In the meantime, please do not try any magic.”
“I will try not to.” She laughed. “It’s not as if I will suddenly find a way to use it even if I have magical powers.”
“True, but before this you did not know about your talent, if talent it is, knowing changes things,” Blu said, pulling aside the curtain. “Until we know how you express your magic, please do not wish for anything.”
“Well, it’s not a wish, but I am starving, is it time for dinner?”
“Yes, we were in the vision for over an hour,” Arabela said, “Or rather, you were. I’ve been trying to wake you for most of that time. And I, too, am hungry. Let us join the rest of our party.”
The rest of the party consisted of Jode, Simon, and an Eldman. They were standing in a clearing at the edge of camp, snacking on food from a long wooden table. On the other end was a black cloth on which lay seven knives of varying sizes, none of them had more than a cloth wrapped tang for a handle.
Jode stepped forward from the group as the two women entered. “Madeline, I hope your time with Blu was fruitful. I would be happy to hear the story later if you would be kind enough to tell me. For now, please allow me to introduce the Eldman knife master, Kapeni. He will train you today.”
The Eldman bowed deeply, hands together in front of his chest. “It is indeed my honor Lady Madeline.”
“I am pleased to meet you Sir Kapeni,” she responded.
“Not sir, just Kapeni.” He pointed to the row of knives. “If it is convenient, we can spend the remaining daylight increasing your knowledge of the silent killer.”
Madeline judged there was only about a half hour of light left and decided she would wait to eat rather than cut short her training. “Where are the targets?”
“We will aim first at the trees.” He led her to the table. “Do you see the white tree standing alone?”
Madeline saw what looked like a birch tree, about ten feet away. “Yes, will I be throwing that far?”
“At first, it may seem close, but throwing accurately is the point of the exercise. When you have that distance perfected, you will be able to adjust your technique to up to four times that distance. It will be enough for this purpose that you are proficient at these short ranges.”
The blades of the knives were unsharpened, only the point had any edge. The weights ranged from a light knife of around four ounces to a heavy knife of over half a pound. Madeline reached for the lightest knife. Kapeni lifted it out of her hand and replaced it with one that felt like it weighed around seven ounces.
“I don’t know if I can throw this more than a couple of times,” she said, lifting her hand up and down to test the weight.
“The lightest knives are the hardest to control. This one will serve you for training.” He laid a rope on the ground to the side of the table. “This is where you will stand. You will throw from the back of the rope until you hit the tree. Then you will throw until you consistently hit it.”
Madeline watched as he demonstrated how to hold the knife, sort of like a hammer. Then he raised the knife until his elbow was in line with his shoulder, the knife slightly behind him. He released it as he brought his arm down in a smooth motion. The knife rotated in the air and sank into the tree.
“I’m sure it’s not that easy,” she said as he motioned her to try. He nodded in agreement and corrected her grip, and then he tsked and corrected her stance.
“Now do not release the knife yet. Simply move your arm forward and down slowly.”
Madeline did her best to mimic his earlier moves.
“You see where in that movement you are pointing at the target?”
Madeline raised her arm back to where she thought he meant. “Here?”
Kapeni nodded. “Take your arm back to the top. Release the knife at the right point. We will see how far you can throw and then correct your movements until you get it perfect.”
Madeline released the knife and it went in the right direction, but fell short of the target. “Damnation.” She had hoped it would come naturally to her. It looked like she was in for some long training before she became proficient.
They walked to the tree together to retrieve the two knives. As they returned to the rope, Kapeni said, “You are aiming correctly, but you release the knife a little too late. You also absorb the strength of your throw into your body by leaning back.”
“Really?” She didn’t remember leaning back. “Okay let’s try again.”
Madeline followed his instructions through several more attempts until she finally made the throw to the tree.
“Well done. Now, do you know why that worked?”
“Not really, I just stopped thinking about it so much. I had the movement all down and I finally felt myself leaning back and forth while I threw. I stopped doing it. I guess I was trying too hard. I decided to just let it happen.”
“Good.” Now there is still enough light for you to throw ten more times. Please use these knives and I would like the target to have ten knives in it when you are done.” He stabbed the knives blade first into the grass at her feet.
Madeline was getting very hungry. “I might throw better if I had something to eat.”
“You will throw better if you know you will eat after,” Kapeni said. “Besides, the light will go soon.
Madeline accepted defeat and bent for the first blade. She stood holding it for a moment as she remembered the feeling of throwing the blade perfectly into the wood, the sound that it made, a hollow thunk, and the position of her body when she was done the throw. She raised the knife and swiftly brought her arm down releasing the knife at the right point and following through.
Thunk.
She picked up the next knife and repeated the movements.
Thunk.
Seven more times the knife went directly into the tree. The last knife clanged and bounced back because there was no more room for it to sink into the wood.
“Well done.” Jode handed her a mug of wine. “Go and eat something. I will retrieve your blades.”
Madeline thought of protesting but didn’t, she was too hungry and her arm ached, not having to pull the knives out would be a blessing. She walked back to the table shrugging the pain out of her shoulder. Platters of meat and bread with a salad of bitter greens had replaced the snacks. She filled a plate and sat with the rest of the group.
“The knives you threw are now yours,” Kapeni said. “Please practice each day until you can place each blade in the target. As you become proficient, move one foot length away from the target and extend your reach.”
Madeline swallowed a mouthful of salad and said, “Thank you, Kapeni. I am not familiar with your customs. Do I need to give you a gift in return?”
“It is not necessary.” He bowed again. “If you would honor me with a visit to my home after the quest is complete I would consider it gift enough in return.”
“If it is possible, I will be happy to do so,” she said, hoping it would be, even if she decided to go home. These grave Eldmen interested her and she wondered how they had come to be who they were.
Kapeni took his leave. Jode rolled the knives in the cloth giving them to a passing server to take back to the tent. The camp torches were lit as the light finally faded; groups of people drifted to gather around the campfires.
“If you find you need a refresher on how to throw, I am a serviceable knife thrower,” Arabela said. “It is sometimes difficult the second time one trains, particularly without a master.”
“I think I remember,” Madeline said. “I just hope my arm and shoulder are not too stiff to work out tomorrow.”
“You should wake early and warm up with the sword before you start throwing,” Arabela suggested.
Madeline noticed that Simon and Jode were watching the two women carefully. Probably waiting for us to start arguing, she thought.
It was true Arabela’s offers to help were grating on her nerves and it felt like orders, not like suggestions. She pushed the irritation aside and smiled her biggest, sunniest smile.
“That’s a great idea.” She laughed when even Arabela expressed surprise. “I admit I need some help with this. I’m not sure I would be able to actually use a sword, or a knife, against another person, but I do need to know what to do in case it turns out I have to defend myself.”
“I will have to excuse myself from you, ladies.” Simon rose from his seat. “I have a meeting I need to attend with some friends.”
“Good night,” both women responded.
Jode excused himself and promised to meet Madeline at dawn for sword training. He followed Simon towards the left side of the camp.
�
�I think they expected us to disagree.” Arabela laughed. “I think it frightened them when we did not.”
“They’ll get used to it,” Madeline said. “Well, I guess if we give them the chance to. I’m trying not to lose my temper. If it unsettles the men, then it’s just more reason to be agreeable. Do you need to go anywhere or should we head back to the tent?”
“The tent sounds the best.” Arabela handed her plate to the woman clearing the table. “Perhaps we can have a glass of wine and, if you wish, we can talk about the vision.”
“I’d rather not dwell on it,” Madeline said, trying to push aside the sudden memory of Goddard looking into her eyes.
“Then you can tell me about the men in your world. It seems they are not so different there, if Sir Simon is any example.”
They walked back to the center of the camp gossiping about inconsequential things, winding down so they could sleep. When they arrived, it became apparent that drifting off to sleep early was not going to be in the cards. Two Sylph males waited for Arabela, two armed men and Blu accompanied them. The Sylph prostrated themselves when she walked towards them.
“What is this?” Arabela looked to Blu. “Why are Caver and Light here?”
“They presented themselves to your guardsmen,” he answered. “I was summoned after they arrived, at their request apparently. I am as unenlightened as you. Perhaps now they will tell us what has brought them here.”
Arabela told the two Sylph to rise and they did, keeping their eyes on the ground. Madeline tried to excuse herself, but the two green-haired men asked her to stay.
“Please,” Arabela said her worry clear in her tone. “Tell us why you have come.”
Light spoke, “A grievous error, my lady, one that may have repercussions beyond this night. This inattentive Sylph has imbibed too many glasses of the strong brew of the Eldmen. He became melancholic for his lover. She stays in the home cave while we adventure with you.”
The other Sylph was rocking slightly back and forth, muttering quietly. He suddenly dropped to his knees and raised his eyes to Arabela. “I do not know how to apologize or how to undo this thing.”