by P. A. Wilson
“I didn’t say I wasn’t charmed,” Madeline said. “It would make me happy to hear what you would do, Jode. Whether or not I’m here, no matter my advice or preference, what is it that you want to do?”
“I am drawn to sing for these New Questers,” Jode confessed. “I am considering accepting Sir Simon’s offer of a position in the group.”
“Then, that is what you should do,” Madeline said. “I will not stand in your way. My decision to stay or go will not change because you have chosen your path. Jode, it will make me the most happy to see you happy.”
Madeline trained with Jode that afternoon during the village meeting. Asla watched from the sidelines giving encouragement as they danced around each other with their practice swords. “I must be getting fitter,” Madeline said during a pause, “I don’t feel any pain in my muscles.”
“You are developing the right muscles for this fighting,” Asla said. “Sir Jode, do you think her form is improving?” He was saved from answering, if not from blushing, by a messenger announcing lunch.
After the meal, the whole group rode leisurely back to the main camp. The mist had dissipated, but the day was still chilly. Madeline watched as the servants ran back and forth, pitching tents, building fires, starting dinner cooking in large pots over the flames. The movement was like a well-choreographed dance; no one tripped or bumped anyone else, tables appeared and were covered in drinks and snacks as if by magic.
“Come, Lady Madeline,” Arabela called. “Let’s watch the guards train. I think you have done enough for today.”
“Who will be training?” she asked as they walked towards the empty space beside the paddock.
“The four guards, Jode, and three of the Eldmen.” They reached a roped off area where several small barrels had been placed as stools. There were a group of people huddled at one end of the row of seats. They were chattering and passing notes back and forth.
“Are they placing wagers?”
“Yes,” Arabela said. “Did you wish to participate?”
“No, I have no idea how to figure out the betting system and I have no money, but thanks.”
“Perhaps in the future.” Arabela smiled. “If you wished to place a bet on Sir Jode, I would be happy to provide the funds.”
“No, thanks all the same. I think it would be better if I didn’t encourage him to foolishness just to win me some money.”
“Ah well, you probably know best. Do not count on him to not be foolish when he sees you watching.”
“I’ve seen him with a sword.”
“No,” Arabela said shaking her head. “You’ve practiced with him. You have not seen him dance with the blade.”
“Why do I think you’ve set me up?”
“Probably because you are a wise woman.” Arabela chuckled. “I challenge you to resist loving him after this contest.”
Madeline groaned. This was not going to help she just knew it.
The first contest was in knife throwing. The Eldmen and one of the guards took turns hitting a target from increasingly further distances. When someone missed, they stepped out. Kapeni was the winner; he threw a blade a distance that was so far that she could not see the target. She only heard the hard thunk as the knife penetrated the wood. The group of bettors rapidly passed paper and coins around, and then sat back for the next competition.
Four guards appeared in the center of the cleared ring. They whistled and two goblins ran out with small colored balls that were placed in a circle around the men. The guards pulled whips out of their belts and cracked them over their heads at the same time. Then each one lashed his whip and caught a ball sending it spinning towards the goblins. The crowd applauded politely. Madeline was impressed with the skill but kept looking around for Jode.
Arabela nudged her. “Pay attention.”
The goblins picked up the balls, then at a shout threw them at the group of soldiers. Three balls were flicked down by the whips. The fourth hit one of the guards. He swore then left the circle. This was repeated until only one guard was successful in hitting the thrown ball. The crowd whistled and yelled their approval, or disappointment, as they settled the round of bets.
Madeline looked around and noticed the audience had tripled during the whip exhibition. As she watched, the heads turned as one to the right. The bettors finished their wagers and settled quietly for the next event. Turning in the direction of everyone’s gaze, she saw a tall man, one of the guards, stride to the center of the arena. He took a staff from one of the goblins and drew a circle in the dirt. When he was finished, he tossed the staff back to the goblin, bowed, then walked to the far side of the circle standing just inside the line.
Jode walked into Madeline’s line of sight. His blond hair tied back in a tail, his sword hung across his back. He wore a white shirt with a black and dark green kilt that swung about high black boots, which rose to an inch below his knee. Madeline sucked in a deep breath. “Damn.”
Arabela laughed quietly. “Yes, he is well presented, isn’t he?”
“Good thing we have a chaperon, I guess.”
“Sir Jode would never be improper,” Arabela assured her.
“It wasn’t his behavior that I meant. That is one fine looking man.”
Arabela smiled and patted Madeline’s arm.
The two men stood facing each other, then at some unseen signal, made a short bow and drew blades. They walked around each other for a few turns. Madeline realized they were looking for the first opening. Suddenly the guard stepped forward and lunged at Jode. Madeline noticed that it was not a practice blade dulled on the edges, but a real blade. If it made contact it would draw blood.
She watched as the two men tested each other lunging and defending, no contact made. Jode spun and dove as though the blade was an extension of his arm. The other man was as skilled as Jode. The fight went on for several minutes before one of them found an advantage. The guard pushed Jode’s blade away and lunged forward to cut his chest. As he passed, Jode spun around, slashing at the guard’s side. Jode’s shirt was sliced open on the side, no blood showed. The guards’ shirt was sliced across the back, no blood there either.
“I can’t watch this,” Madeline whispered. She felt dizzy at the thought of Jode being cut. “I have to go.”
Arabela grabbed her arm and held her to the seat. “Do not distract him. What is the problem?”
“Someone is going to get hurt.” She couldn’t bring herself to say Jode. “They are using real blades.”
“Of course they are.” Arabela squeezed Madeline’s arm. “They are in control. Do not worry. If blood is drawn, the attacker is disqualified. Do you think I would put any of our party in danger for sport?”
Madeline let out a shaky breath. “No, not when you actually say it. But it looked like they were really fighting.” She swallowed the fear in her chest.
“I am sorry,” Arabela said. “I didn’t think. I should have told you the rules. This is a display of control. The winner will have sliced the shirt off the other. If either loses control enough to draw blood, he loses.”
“Okay.” Madeline turned her eyes back to the fight. “Hasn’t anyone been hurt or killed in this type of fight, ever?”
“Not killed.” Arabela shrugged. “A few scars, but no death.”
Madeline watched as the two men continued the contest, each scoring cuts until their shirts were in ribbons. The guard was in the worst shape. Jode had sliced the fabric until only a tie at the neck held it together. Jode spun again and flicked the point of his sword swiftly, cutting the tie and tangling the man’s sword in his sleeves as the shirt dropped over his shoulders. They retreated to their original positions and bowed, grinning at each other as the crowd cheered.
“See,” Arabela said. “No one was hurt.”
Jode turned to the two women and bowed deeply, his shredded shirt exposing his muscular chest gleaming with sweat. He rose, turned, and left the circle.
“Hi, ladies.” Simon appeared at Madeline�
��s side. “He is going to make a great rock star. Don’t you think so, Madeline?”
“He sure knows how to play the crowds.” She nodded toward the bettors. “It looks like he was the favorite.”
“We should return to the tents,” Arabela said drawing Madeline up. “Dinner will be ready soon and Sir Jode and Simon will be hungry I’m sure.”
“Actually,” Simon said. “Jode and I have something else we need to attend to. We may not join you this evening.”
“Then Lady Asla should be told,” Arabela said. “I’m sure she would like to know if she doesn’t need to act as chaperon.”
“Yes well,” Simon said backing away. “She knows already. Have a lovely evening, ladies.”
“Do you know what is going on?” Arabela asked. “I assumed Sir Jode would want to dine with us and bask in his success.”
“I think he is going to be spending the evening exploring his future career,” Madeline said. “I’ll let him tell you about it. Come on let’s get back I’m famished. All this training is giving me a big appetite to go with the new muscles.”
The two women walked back to their tent where steaming bowls of stew waited on the table. The chairs held dry, warm shawls to take the chill off while they ate. “Tell me,” Arabela said. “What do you think you will want to do after the quest is finished? It seems that Sir Simon has found his path and Sir Jode may also be changing his.”
“Yeah.” Madeline put her empty bowl down and picked up the wine mug. “It seems that this quest is leading to a lot of life changes.”
“Surely if you return to your world you can return to the work you were doing there.”
“I could. It would be a pain to figure out how to explain where I was for all this time, but I could go back to being a lawyer. I’m pretty sure I’d make partner this year.”
“Do not worry about explaining your absence.” Arabela waved her hand in dismissal. “Blu can return you to your time shortly after you left. No one will know you were gone. You’ll have to explain what happened to Sir Simon, though.”
“I’ll just say he quit.” Madeline shrugged. “It seems he was going to anyway. So, what if I don’t return? Will people miss me?”
“They will remember you. Whatever usually happens in your world when someone disappears will happen. Is there someone who you care about there? Someone who will worry?”
“I was just curious.” Madeline leaned back in the chair. “I don’t have many friends, and no family. I was an only child of only children. I guess they’d miss me at work for as long as it took to find a replacement.”
“It sounds like a lonely life.”
“Not really.” Madeline realized that was true, at least true before. How would she feel knowing Jode was here missing her? “I don’t want to go back to that life anyway. Wow, it feels good to say that. If I go back, I would do something completely different with my life.”
“Then why not do that here?”
“It’s a big change. I don’t know if I’m prepared to make that kind of decision. What about you? When Sayer is dead with what will you do?”
“You know I have the responsibility that we will not mention.”
“Yes, but that is not really going to fill your time.”
“As you say, these are big decisions,” Arabela said. “I am, perhaps, as unprepared as you to make such large decisions.”
“Okay, I get that.” Madeline felt the weight of the events fall on her shoulders. “If I knew what I was supposed to do, maybe it would help. But then again, more knowledge isn’t always helpful.”
“These decisions we have to make,” Arabela said passing the empty plates and mugs to the waiting servant. “They are decisions of the heart; decisions we feel. They are not decisions of the mind.”
“I’m not used to making decisions that way.”
“No,” Arabela said. “Perhaps it is time you became more comfortable with your heart, and stopped worrying about your mind.”
“Should I say the same thing to you?” Madeline refused to be pushed. “Should you let your heart decide your future?”
“Perhaps.” Arabela chuckled. “Then again, perhaps the problem is that neither of us really knows what our heart wants. It is because the choices we have are all good.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Madeline pulled the shawl around her. “I think I would like to walk around before I go to bed. Would you like to join me?”
“No, I need my rest.” Arabela headed towards the tent. “Talk to Blu. He may be able to help you. Goodnight.”
Madeline nodded and walked towards the edge of camp, the pent-up stress of watching Jode fight was making her restless. She found Blu staring at the flames of his campfire, yellow robes pulled tightly around his small frame. He looked up as she walked into the circle of light.
“Lady Madeline, please, join me I have been waiting for you.” He pointed to a stool on his left. “I fear the time is growing short. We will be at our destination in two days.”
“I’m not ready,” Madeline said.
“I think you are overly worried. How is it that you know you are not ready?”
“I don’t know what to do. What if I don’t have the right skills? What if I hesitate at the wrong moment? What if I rush in too soon?” The questions poured out of her with no thought.
“Do you have such little faith in the prophecy?” He paused. “Or are you talking about something else perhaps?”
“I don’t know.” Madeline shrugged. “There are so many things coming to a head. I think I’m talking about the prophecy, but it is also about my own choices.”
“Let us walk.” Blu stood pointing to the edge of the camp. “I find it sometimes helps to move the body while you try to sort the mind.”
The priest only came to her shoulder. Madeline was not used to being the tallest person in any circumstance. She tried not to bend over as she talked to the priest while they walked towards a lighted area. People were practicing with bows and arrows. The archers stood in the last slice of sunlight. Fires lit the targets, but between them, there was growing shadow. Soon they would be shooting through full dark.
“See the arrows,” Blu said. “They are made for the one purpose, to fly through the air.”
“I thought arrows were designed to kill things,” Madeline said.
“No,” Blu said. “Their purpose is to fly straight and true. The archer chooses to aim at a target, or at a living being. It is neither the arrow nor the bow that makes the decision about the where the arrow lands.”
“Are you comparing my situation to the arrow?” Madeline expected a Zen-like answer, no answer at all really.
“No.” Blu shook his shaved head. “You are the arrow, the bow, and the archer.”
“Great.” Madeline looked to the sky. “Let me figure that out. So, I have been made for a specific purpose, the arrow. I am able to make that purpose into action, the bow. And I can direct that purpose to more than one end, the archer.”
“I am impressed.” Blu turned to her, looking surprised. “Not many of our own people would have made that connection so quickly.”
“I spent a year trying to be a Buddhist,” Madeline explained. “I didn’t have the patience to really be one.”
“Patience is not always a virtue in this world we inhabit.” Blu nodded, apparently, Buddhist translated to something here.
“You said I may have magical talent,” Madeline said.
“Yes.” Blu paused to watch a flight of twenty arrows rise and fall in their progress to the targets. The sky was still light enough to follow the path, but only barely. “I sense that you have power, but it is sealed away. Would you like to pursue the path to unlocking it?”
“I don’t know what that means. I don’t wish to become a priest, or priestess.”
“Priest, the word does not denote gender. You do not have to become a priest. Lady Arabela possesses power and is not a priest.”
“So, if I stay here I could study magic?” Madeline
added that to her list of choices. “Having more options isn’t really helping me make a choice.”
“In the end, when you make a choice, you will realize there are no options, only the one path.”
The sound of a flute rose from off to the side of the archers. It seemed familiar to Madeline, but she was not able to name the composer. Simon’s work she thought. He had eclectic taste and a perfect memory for music. The flute was joined by a single drum sound. She looked over to the side and saw a group of five musicians standing in a circle. She waved at Jode, Simon, and Asla who were standing a little apart.
“Sir Simon has chosen his path,” Blu said. “He did not seem to find the decision difficult.”
“Simon seems to be able to take leaps of faith that I cannot.”
“The path to the right decision does not always have to be a smoothly paved one. Sometimes the path must be difficult because there is so much at stake.”
“I guess I have to make this choice on my own. No one can tell me what to do, and if I’m honest I wouldn’t really listen.” She looked over at the band.
“Join your friends,” Blu said. “I will contemplate the arrow’s flight for a time.”
Madeline walked behind the line of archers to join the musicians, her skin heating suddenly. “I can’t be having hot flashes,” she muttered shaking off her wrap. The wind picked up and the archers started to put away their bows. A sound like a creaking tarp rose from the far side of the clearing, to the right of the targets. The archers turned quickly re-stringing bows and pulling arrows from the quivers on the ground.
Madeline drew further back allowing the archers room for whatever they needed. She was about half way between the priest, now sitting alone just at the edge of the fire light, and the band who were drawing closer together, instruments silent. Dread rose from the people like a damp chill finding its way into her bones.
The archers drew their bows and held the pose. The sound changed to a screeching call that cut through the night. Madeline watched as Blu suddenly rose and started to move towards the crowd. A pair of clawed feet appeared. She stared as what looked like a pterodactyl swooped down and caught the priest between its talons.