“I have no reason to fight you,” Luke states as he deflects a flurry of strikes from Conrad’s rapier. “We have mutual enemies, so we shouldn’t risk injuring each other. This fight is ridiculous!”
“I promise I won’t hurt you. I simply want to test your skills,” Conrad assures him. He slashes at Luke’s arm, but the attack merely cuts the half-elf’s sleeve. “All of my attacks are at non-vital areas and I have a healer waiting outside. I trust you to meet me with similarly restrained force.”
Luke leaps over a low thrust of Conrad’s rapier, landing on the bar and immediately flipping off the side. With all of the customers in the street, Luke swiftly backs away toward the entrance, spinning his sabers in preparation for an attack. He is nearly caught off-guard when one of the armored mercenaries charges him with a dull spear. Luke sidesteps the pole-arm and spins back to slam the hilt of his saber into the mercenary’s chin. The man drops to the ground, holding his broken jaw and mumbling curses.
“I believe I’ve lost my patience with you,” Luke happily declares, beckoning the mercenaries with a taunting wave of his sabers. “Let’s see if you can take on a Callindor.”
As expected, Conrad leaps at Luke, using a chair to get extra height for a downward strike at the half-elf’s shoulder. Luke surprises him by jumping off another chair and colliding with the calico. Conrad twists his flexible body, so that he lands on top, but Luke immediately knees him in the stomach. They roll away from each other as the armored mercenaries cautiously advance on Luke. The forest tracker retreats into a corner, refusing to take any of the openings that he sees in their lazy defense. He is sure they are leaving their vitals open because they know he would never attempt a killing strike.
“You’re not that impressive,” Conrad declares while holding his bruised stomach. “I expected more flair from a forest tracker. You’re rather common and brutish.”
Luke growls like a cornered animal and charges the armored warriors. With amazing speed and grace, the half-elf rapidly attacks them with the flat sides of his sabers. Every step and strike flows into the next as he pushes the three mercenaries back. The painful blows rain on their heads, elbows, and knees until all of them fall to the ground in numbing agony. He can see a look of approval on Conrad’s face and makes a dramatic bow toward the calico. The swordsmen rush each other, Luke’s sabers spinning and Conrad’s rapier pulled back for a fierce strike.
“Enough!” bellows an echoing voice from the doorway.
Luke skids to a stop, but Conrad continues his charge. Conrad is about to stab Luke in the shoulder when the half-elf spins aside and punches the mercenary upside the head with the hilt of his saber. The calico collapses at Luke’s feet, holding the back of his head and chuckling at his own defeat. He slowly gets to his feet and pats Luke on the shoulder before groggily walking toward the threatening, slender figure in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, commander,” Conrad whispers, cringing in pain.
“You got what you deserved,” the elven woman calmly replies as her gray right eye examines Luke and her injured men. Her other eye is covered in an eyepatch that is colored to match the horribly burned skin covering the entire left side of her body. The overall effect makes it look like her left eye never existed, which sends a shiver up Luke’s spine. The woman is small, but every muscle of her body has been visibly strengthened and defined by years of training and combat.
“I should apologize as well,” Luke says, sheathing his sabers and extending his hand. “My name is Luke Callindor and I’ll be working with you.”
The woman shakes his hand with her scarred hand, her skin surprisingly warm. “I’m Tzefira and I’ve no interest in you.”
3
The floor of Tzefira’s tent is littered with colorful pillows and finely-crafted rugs that completely cover the natural ground. Delicate paper lanterns dangle from the support beams, their magical cores shining a warm, soothing glow throughout the tent. Sitting in the middle of the tent is a wooden weapon stand where a metal war staff sits, its curved blades nearly touching the ground and ceiling. Luke and Sari keep an eye on the majestic weapon as they sit at a low table and quietly eat the food laid out before them. Pitchers of fresh water and platters of dried meat and crackers have been presented to look fancy, but the pair know they are eating nothing more than high-quality trail rations. They keep their opinions to themselves to avoid taking Tzefira’s harsh attention away from Nyx.
“So, you are the powerful caster this city has been whispering about,” Tzefira says as she maintains a firm grip on Nyx’s jaw to examine the half-elf’s face. The bald mercenary is still wearing her chainmail, which rubs against her bare neck. “I’m not impressed. You dress like a common girl with a love of the color red instead of a lady of magic. I smell no spell components on you and the lack of ink on your fingers tells me you have no spellbook. Though, I guess you could have not learned a new spell in months, which is unprofessional and lazy. So, how did you get the people of Hero’s Gate to believe you’re a real caster?”
“I don’t need any of that stuff to cast magic. I concentrate on a spell and I can cast it as long as I have enough magic,” Nyx calmly states. She turns her face into mist and steps out of Tzefira’s grip. Her face solidifies with a challenging grin aimed at the stern mercenary. “Why did you agree to have me here if you doubt my power?”
“The simple answer is that I want you for your influence and damaged reputation,” the mercenary coldly replies while taking a seat at the head of the table. “The people of this city are obsessed with you. Most believe you will return to finish them off or curse them further. This obsession has made them paranoid and unruly. I worry about another strong faction appearing to cause trouble. I’ve wasted a lot of time and resources keeping the citizens under control instead of focusing all of my power on our enemies. With you in the city, these groups will stay in hiding out of fear of your magic.”
“Are we your prisoners or are we here to help?” Luke asks as he chews on a tough piece of meat that he thinks is beef.
“You and the gypsy are free to do whatever you want until I find a use for you,” Tzefira claims, her gray eye glimmering with annoyance at the interruption. “I asked only for Nyx, so I made no plans for a forest tracker or a gypsy. Though, I should have prepared for you after hearing the stories coming out of the northeast. You three are responsible for destroying Kalam and defeating two Sword Dragons, which is very impressive.”
“Guess we aren’t useless,” Sari happily declares. She takes a drink of water and cherishes the cool feeling running down her parched throat. “You don’t happen to have anything sweeter than water, do you?”
“I never said you were useless, little girl. I said that I didn’t have a use for you right now, but that’s already changing,” Tzefira says. She pulls a red decanter out from under the table and slides it to Sari who can already smell the juice inside. “My original plan was to use full military force and Nyx’s magic to handle everything. Conrad was going to be in charge of settling the internal threats that plague Hero’s Gate. Now, I can use him to handle the hunting parties because I believe Sari would be a better agent for the internal issues.”
Luke laughs gently, immediately stopping when Tzefira glares at him. He clears his throat before saying, “I’m sorry, but Conrad makes for a strange second-in-command. He’s obviously trying to find a way to take control of your army.”
“I know and I have dared him to try his best,” Tzefira admits, amused by the stunned looks on everyone’s face. “Conrad is a highly skilled swordsman and a wise strategist, but he is extremely ambitious. His ambition is what drives him to success, so I maintain it with a high position and an open invitation to attempt a revolt. In the meantime, I reap the benefits of his abilities.”
“What if he wins?” Sari asks. She shrinks away from the mercenary’s wolfish grin.
“All of my men are loyal to me, so Conrad won’t get very far unless he uses outside agents,” Tzefira confidentl
y declares. “He has tried several assassins over the years, but they rarely get through my defenses. He’s unwilling to bankrupt himself by hiring skilled help, so I enjoy the danger of amateur killers. I even reward him for his attempts with a monetary bonus, which keeps him sharp and hungry.”
“You are a . . . I can’t think of a kind word to say here,” Sari mentions as she takes another quick chug of sweet juice.
“Then, it’s best that you keep your mouth shut,” the mercenary politely states.
Nyx sits next to Tzefira and grabs the nearest goblet of water, immediately heating the water. She rummages through her magic satchel and pulls out a pinch of dry herbs. The smell of herbal tea fills the tent, giving everyone an overwhelming sense of calm and clarity. Nyx quietly sips at the strong tea while she gathers her thoughts. She tries to enjoy the silence, but she is unnerved by Tzefira’s expectant stare. Nyx rubs at her amethyst necklace to clear her head of the anxiety caused by the mercenary’s cold eye.
“I believe I can live with being a weapon and symbol under your command, Tzefira,” Nyx says, letting go of her necklace. “I’ll consider it part of my punishment for casting the genocide spell. Now, what problems do you have besides thieves and goblins?”
“You’re a smart one,” Tzefira chuckles in amusement.
“Luke and Sari figured it out too, but I sense they are letting me work at my own pace,” Nyx explains. She grins when Luke and Sari nonchalantly looking around the tent to avoid her piercing gaze. “If I’m being blamed for this then the remaining goblins must be involved. I’m going to assume they’re attacking the livestock and outer farmlands. This forced the already strained guards to focus on the outskirts instead of the city, which gave an opening for thieves to set up a guild. The thieves in Gaia try this every time there is an incident that requires full military action, but they’re always undone by the Grand Counselors. Feel free to interrupt me and fill in the blanks or correct me, Tzefira. After all, you’re supposed to be in charge.”
“Show some respect, child,” the mercenary snaps, shifting on her pillows until she is more comfortable. “You’re right about the goblins and how they unintentionally helped the thieves gain a foothold. We’ve been hunting the goblins, but only within the first two miles of the forest. Even then we’re trying to minimize casualties by using wooden weapons because we know this is retaliation for your spell. Our goal is to push them back into their territory without wiping them out. Unfortunately, the thieves infiltrated our hunting parties to create more bloodshed and chaos. This practice stopped abruptly about a week ago and the thieves are now focused on the city than the outskirts. We assume they no longer need the distractions.”
“What are the thieves after?” Luke asks, unable to hide his brewing curiosity. “Is there a hidden treasure or artifact here?”
Tzefira is about to answer when Sari politely raises her hand. The gypsy smiles as she says, “With Hero’s Gate in chaos, the thieves are planning to corrupt the unstable government and transform the city into a second Rodillen. I’m sure an ambitious thief killed the mayor, but that’s a dangerous move so early in their plans. By now, the guild founder has had that thief killed and the body tossed in the river with weights. You see, Luke, the distractions were needed until they secured a hidden lair and their spies integrated their public identities. With all of that in place, the thieves have sunk into the shadows to build a treasury to use for bribes. They are going to keep an eye out for human resources. This includes guards and mercenaries that can be bought as well as any independent thieves that come to town for the easy plundering. Basic guild development stuff, so don’t get your hopes up on a hidden anything.”
Tzefira stiffly nods at Sari and pulls out a small pot of white ointment. With a cringe of pain, she casually dips her fingers into the cool gel and slathers it on her scars. The ointment sinks into her skin, leaving a faint, medicinal vapor in the air. Tzefira takes a deep breath as she feels the magic erase the incessant itching that plagues her ravaged flesh. Ignoring the disgusted faces of the three adventurers, she wipes her hands on a napkin and places the pot under the table.
“Was that really necessary?” Nyx asks, staring at the mercenary’s scars.
“My scars feel like they’re on fire if I don’t apply this ointment every six hours,” Tzefira answers with a furious edge to her voice. “If you have a problem with my actions then I suggest you turn away next time. I didn’t survive the fire that nearly took my life in order to be judged and gawked at by sensitive children. If you plan on being an adventurer then I suggest you get used to people with scars tending to their pain and discomfort within your dainty presence.”
“I’m sorry,” Nyx mutters, lowering her gaze to her lap.
Luke opens his mouth to ask a question when Conrad enters the tent and clears his throat. Instead of speaking, the calico jerks his head toward Nyx, to which Tzefira slowly shakes her head and holds up three fingers. Conrad glances at Sari with a worried expression and holds up two fingers, his short claws extending. His leader strokes her chin, turning to eye the gypsy for a few silent minutes. Eventually, she turns back to her second-in-command and holds up three fingers again. She gestures at Luke, which causes Conrad’s tail to quickly twitch in the air. The calico backs out of the tent, keeping his brown eyes on the forest tracker.
“He doesn’t like me,” Sari guesses, watching the shadow of Conrad briefly move across the tent.
“On the contrary, he was worried you would be in danger during our excursion. Conrad puts on a believable act of being a jerk, but he’s very protective of women and children,” Tzefira says, reaching over to gently pat Sari on the leg. “I assured him that Luke will protect you. Conrad has taken a liking to your swordsman, which means he will eventually ask Luke to help overthrow me. I trust Luke will deny his request because it would be a conflict of interest and this isn’t the time for games.”
“I’ve no interest in you,” Luke states. He grins at Tzefira, who barely holds back a chuckle. “So, what are you going to show us?”
“I know you saw the smoking crater in Hero’s Gate because I asked Timoran to show it to you,” Tzefira explains. She gets to her feet and takes her war staff off the rack, holding the weapon over her shoulder. “A new type of undead appeared a few days after Nyx’s spell went off. The priests believe these creatures were created from the spirits of the deceased goblins and the lingering aura of the genocide spell. They are ravenous eaters that hide in the eastern swamplands, which has begun encroaching on the forest. At night, these monsters come to the city to beat at the walls while howling and screeching. Thankfully, we’ve only had two incidents of them getting inside Hero’s Gate and they have been contained each time.”
“What about the river side? Can’t they get into the city from the docks?” Luke asks. He shudders as he feels the griffin spirit grow uneasy at the thought of fighting something so unnatural.
“They can’t swim,” Tzefira answers while adjusting the collar of her chainmail shirt. “Running water breaks them apart and purifies the pieces. The aura that keeps them together appears to be very fragile, which has the local casters and priests stumped. We use this weakness to our advantage when we fight them near the river, but it’s rare that we find them on the shoreline. Do you have any skill with water magic, Nyx?”
Nyx snaps out of her trance, caused by being ignored for so long, and shakes her head clear. “It’s not my strongest area, but I can do it if I have to. Sari has always been better with ice and water magic, but she doesn’t know anything strong enough to mimic a running river. That is unless she’s been holding out on me during our practice sessions.”
“Sorry, but I’m self-trained in magic, so my spells won’t be much help,” Sari sheepishly admits. “I’m sure Nyx’s magic will be more than enough. She’ll wing it and end all these problems by breakfast.”
“I still demand that you hone your skills in case we need you. A second water caster could be a battle-changing advantage,�
�� Tzefira insists, her gray eye suspiciously examining the gypsy again. “Now, if you three are fed and rested, I would like you to come with me. Conrad and some men will be coming with us.”
“Where are we going?” Nyx asks, gulping down a lump in her throat. She watches Luke and Sari stand, their hands already slid toward their weapons.
Tzefira roughly grabs Nyx by the arm and hoists the caster to her feet. “We’re going on a krypter hunt.”
*****
“I have a question, Tzefira,” Nyx whispers as they walk in front of fifteen armored warriors. She turns back to see if her friends are still at the rear of the hunting party. She can see Sari is protectively flanked by Conrad and Luke. The gypsy happily waves, patting the jittery warriors on the shoulder.
“Ask it now,” the mercenary states. She makes several clicking noises that echo throughout the trees.
“Why don’t the krypters attack your camp when they attack the city?” Nyx asks. A foul-smelling breeze wafts over the warriors and Tzefira quickly reaches out to catch Nyx, who becomes light-headed.
“There is evil aura in the wind here, so steel your stomach and mind,” Tzefira warns the caster before letting go. “To answer your question, we have defensive orbs along the camp’s perimeter and they create a dispersion barrier. It’s only dangerous to undead, so you never noticed it when you passed through. The krypters stopped trying to get through the barrier after ten of them died during their first, and only, attack the camp. They may appear to be mindless monsters, but they know when they’re outmatched.”
“You’re hoping that my magic scares them off,” Nyx says with a nervous grin.
“It has crossed my mind, so feel free to put on as big a show as possible,” Tzefira suggests while tucking her bandana behind her pointy ears.
Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune Page 8