Caravan to Kittikin

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Good evening,” Reneeke said with a slight bow.

  “Good evening as well.” Moving her gaze from Jaikus-beast to Reneeke, she said, “Looks like you have a tale to tell.”

  “That is true,” he replied but didn’t expand further.

  Her two escorts eyed him suspiciously and both had hands resting on their sword hilts.

  “I am looking for a caravan that we were part of,” he explained. “It had four wagons and two riders.”

  She thought a moment, then nodded. “I believe we passed one earlier today.”

  Reneeke’s eyes lit up. “It was on its way to Split Oak.”

  “If that was its destination, then I would think it has already arrived.” She turned to the older of her two escorts. “Didn’t we pass it this morning?”

  “I believe so, my lady,” he replied.

  “How far is it?”

  She returned her attention to Reneeke. “If you keep your pace quick, a day.”

  “Is there a temple to Fjerl in Split Oak?’

  As she nodded, she turned her attention to the tied-up Jaikus-beast. “Yes, there is. You will find it in the southeast quarter.”

  “I thank you.”

  Eyes flitting to meet his, she replied, “You’re welcome. May you find the succor you hope.”

  Reneeke nodded again and then nudged his horse into motion. He kept nudging it until he had it up to a gallop. Hope had sprung anew upon learning that Fjerl’s temple was in Split Oak. If anyone could help Jaikus, it would be them.

  The rest of the evening and well into night he continued on. Only when the horses grew fatigued did he stop. Pulling off the road, he did as he had the night before. First he secured Jaikus-beast to a tree, then gathered wood and built a fire. Once he had a bite to eat, he laid out his bedroll, situated the chest next to him, then fell quickly fell asleep for the events of the last few days had done much to sap his strength.

  “…in the name of all the gods is that?”

  A voice intruded upon a dream of home.

  “Don’t get close,” a second voice said.

  Reneeke came full awake upon realizing others were in their camp. He cracked an eye open to see two men standing before Jaikus-beast. One had his sword out. Through a cracked eyelid, he saw the one with the sword turn and point toward him with the blade.

  “He must have captured it.”

  “Bah,” the other replied. “He’s but a boy.”

  “Then explain that,” he said, turning his blade to point toward Jaikus-beast.

  Using the fingers of his right hand, he moved his hand to the side of his blanket and sought a stone. Finding one that fit snugly in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around it.

  “Hey!” the one with sword still in scabbard exclaimed.

  Reneeke opened his eye further and saw the man staring straight at him.

  “He’s awake,” he finished as he drew his sword.

  Rolling, Reneeke grabbed his sword with his left hand and quickly came to his feet with blade held at the ready.

  “Easy, son,” one of the men said. “No one wants to kill you.”

  Eyes flicking from one to the other, he saw how their clothes were on the poorer side and they each had a haggard look. They didn’t look as if they merely wished to share his fire.

  “Just put your sword down,” the other encouraged.

  Reneeke kept the sword at the ready. Though it was in his left hand, he did have some practice with that hand for as Master Leari said, What do you plan to do should your right hand become injured? Die? No, Reneeke, you need to be equally proficient with both hands. He was a long way from being proficient with his left hand, but for the moment it would have to suffice.

  He shook his head. “You two better get on out of here.”

  “Now is that any way for a boy to speak to his elders, Stearen?” the one man asked.

  “My pappy would have slapped me in the mouth for such insolence, Mok,” Stearen replied.

  Mok cast a sideways glance at his partner. “Think we ought to teach this pup some manners?”

  Stearen nodded. “That we shall.”

  Reneeke moved his sword back and forth before the two men all the while bringing his right hand back as if to counter-balance his movement. But in reality was getting his arm in position to launch the stone. The two men were oblivious to what he held in his right hand.

  Mok stepped forward first and Reneeke acted as if he were scared, which was not far from the truth, and took a quick step back. His action caused Mok to hurry forward at which point he threw the stone. Trusting in his skill, he followed the throw with a quick step forward and a lunge. Before his foot hit the ground, the stone cracked into Mok’s forehead and staggered him. Reneeke’s blade found little resistance as it penetrated the man’s chest.

  Pulling it out, he transferred the sword to his right hand then turned toward Stearen.

  Stearen stood stunned as Mok stumbled backward, a red stain spreading across his chest.

  Reneeke launched into an attack which the man barely parried in time. As the clash of blades sounded in the night, the battle was joined.

  Dancing backward, Stearen knocked aside Reneeke’s attack then followed with a slice of his own. When Reneeke managed to divert it aside with a last-minute block, he initiated a quick series of attacks. Reneeke met them all and came away unscathed.

  A pause in the fight allowed each to reappraise the other. Reneeke was no longer the country-bumpkin Stearen had taken him for. Instead he had proven both skillful and determined.

  Reneeke on the other hand had thought himself lucky to have come away without so much as a scratch. Stearen’s last two blows had almost gotten through. The man was fast and could very well be more skilled than he.

  “You can’t win, boy.”

  Lashing out with an upper right-hand slice, he returned with a thrust. When Reneeke kept his blade at bay, he stepped back.

  “That’s what Mackum the Red said before I killed him.”

  Reneeke then feinted with a thrust only to come at him with a sudden slice.

  Back and forth the two men lunged and parried, hacked and blocked, attacked and defended. Around the campfire their blades danced.

  Reneeke tried many of the maneuvers Larko had taught him but none managed to get through Stearen’s guard. Even the trick of widening the defensive pattern failed to bear fruit. He realized he was still just too green at swordplay. Taking two quick steps back, he held up his hand.

  “Are you giving up?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Raising his sword, Stearen said, “Then let’s get to it.”

  “Wait,” Reneeke said. “I have an offer.”

  Stearen gazed at him calculatingly. “I’m listening.”

  Reneeke pointed to where the chest sat on the other side of the fire. “The chest is not mine and thus I cannot barter it for my life. But, if you would be willing to take the contents in trade for my life, I will yield.”

  “What’s in there?”

  “Three rings of power,” he replied. “If you swear to take the rings, and only the rings, I will not deny you.”

  “How about I just kill you and take it all?”

  Reneeke shrugged. “You could try though we do seem somewhat evenly matched. I for one wish to live another day.”

  He saw the determined set to Reneeke’s jaw. And he had to admit, the boy was a better swordsman than he had thought. Stearen was certain he could take him, but even when facing a less-skilled opponent, there was always the risk of them doing something unexpected. He lowered his sword. “Very well. But if there are no rings within that chest, one of us dies tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  When Reneeke made to move forward, he raised his sword and gestured for him to back away. Reneeke moved back another couple yards.

  Stearen moved backward toward the chest, his eyes never leaving Reneeke. “What’s that over there?” he asked, indicating Jaikus-beast.

&nbs
p; “Something I captured a ways back,” Reneeke replied. “Thought it might be worth something to the right person.”

  “How come you’re out here all by yourself?”

  “Wasn’t,” Reneeke replied, then gestured to the horses picketed off a ways. “I’m all that’s left.” When Stearen glanced back to the chest, Reneeke quickly backed further from the camp only to stop when the man returned his gaze to him.

  Coming to the chest, Stearen knelt before it. As he reached for the lid, Reneeke turned and fled. Releasing the catch, he lifted.

  Reneeke sprinted for his life. He didn’t know how far the curse would extend, but he planned to be nowhere nearby when that lid was lifted. A cry behind him brought him to a stop. He turned to find Stearen thrashing on the ground just as Arno had.

  Waiting a moment just in case, he then hurried back.

  Stearen was on the ground spasming as his body began to change. Cries of pain and terror escaped the man as Reneeke came to stand over him.

  “Sorry about this,” Reneeke said. Drawing his sword, he raised it high with both hands then brought it down hard. The blade slid between two ribs and punctured Stearen’s heart. Raising it again, he stabbed several more times until the man grew still. Then he removed the head just in case.

  He saw Jaikus-beast staring at him with red eyes. “I had been half hoping that being hit a second time with the curse would change you back.”

  No response.

  He cleaned and sheathed his sword then dragged the dead men into the trees. A glance to the east showed dawn hadn’t even started to break. “Still a couple hours, Jaik.” He turned to his friend. “What do you think, should we try to sleep, or head out?”

  Growl…snarl…

  Nodding, Reneeke said, “I agree. There’s no way I’ll be going back to sleep tonight. Let’s go.”

  Once Jaikus-beast had been put on the horse and the rest of their equipment secured to the horses, Reneeke pulled himself into the saddle.

  It remained quite dark as they returned to the road. He kept their pace slow for the next several hours until the sky began to lighten. Once it did, he picked up the pace. He had every intention of spending the following night at Split Oak.

  Late morning found them out of the Pass and into the hill country. At noon he took a short break to rest the horses and grab a bite to eat. Not long after resuming travel he reached where the hills transitioned into forested plains. A road heading east came into view and a lone traveler emerged about the time Reneeke came abreast of it. He flagged him down.

  “Excuse me,” Reneeke said. “But could you tell me how much further Split Oak is from here?”

  Eyeing him warily, the man pointed northward up the road Reneeke had been following and said, “Half a day that way.”

  “Ah, thank you.” Reneeke then glanced down the road where the man had come. “What’s down there?”

  “Village of Kith.”

  His eyes lit up. “Kith you say?”

  The man nodded.

  Reneeke thanked him, set the placement of the road in memory so he could readily relocate it, then nudged his horse back into a gallop. Once Jaikus was restored at Split Oak, they would return to Kith to see about their Adventure. Pushing hard, the leagues flew by.

  Chapter 18

  Night had fallen some time ago when the lights of Split Oak appeared through the trees. Farms and houses had appeared intermittently the last few leagues. Most had been dark though a few had windows aglow with light from within.

  The town was rather large, probably due to its position as the first one encountered upon arrival in Kittikin. It boasted a formidable wall with towers spaced at regular intervals. The gate was open and the gate area was awash with light. Four guards kept an eye on those entering.

  A few hearty souls braved the late hour as they made their way through the gate. All but a pair of slightly inebriated farm boys was headed for the safety of the wall. Reneeke slowed before he gained the notice of the guards and then proceeded at a much less harried pace.

  The two farm boys reached him before he got to the gate. They staggered along with each other’s help and when they came abreast of Jaikus-beast they broke into laughter. Reneeke ignored them.

  His greatest worry was that they would not allow him to pass with Jaikus being how he was. When it came his turn to pass through the gate, he nodded to the guards who at first waved him through.

  “Hang on there,” one hollered when he spied Jaikus-beast secured to the horse.

  Reneeke came to a halt then turned his horse to look back at the guards moving toward his friend. “Is there a problem?”

  “Problem?” one muttered. “You could say that. Lord Edward does not allow dangerous beasts within the walls.”

  “I don’t see why that concerns me.”

  The guard pointed to Jaikus-beast. “What do you call that?”

  “A friend of mine fallen on some hard luck,” he explained. “We were on an Adventure and he got himself cursed. We’re here to see if Fjerl’s priests can help him.”

  “He looks dangerous,” another guard said.

  Jaikus-beast didn’t help matters by glaring at them with red eyes and growling most menacingly through the gag.

  “I assure you gentlemen that he is not. He is merely not himself at the moment.”

  “If he ain’t dangerous, why tie him up?”

  “So he won’t run away.”

  “Ah,” one guard said.

  The one who looked to be in charge of the guard detail eyed Reneeke, then took in Jaikus-beast. He considered it a moment then nodded and waved them through. “Go on,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I better not hear how your friend there has caused any mischief or there will be serious repercussions.”

  “I give you my word that such will not happen.”

  “Very good, then.”

  As Reneeke passed through the gate, he hoped there wouldn’t be any mischief. Now, on to Fjerl’s temple and some much needed healing.

  Those still on the street at that late hour at first paid him little heed. It wasn’t until they came abreast of the horse carrying Jaikus-beast that the commotion began. People shouted for others to come see and before he made it more than a hundred feet from the gate, a crowd had formed crying out for the tale of what happened.

  Reneeke felt acutely uncomfortable with everyone gathering around. Some got within arm’s reach of Jaikus-beast and he had to shoo them away.

  “Where did you capture that?” a man called out.

  “What’s your name?” another hollered.

  “What is it?”

  And the questions continued.

  A street kid came up to him and offered to show him to a place with the prettiest ladies. Reneeke declined. Others approached to suggest a plethora of establishments running the gamut of food, drink, women and those of a more illicit nature. He declined each and every one.

  “So where are you going?” one boy asked.

  Reneeke looked down and saw a youth of less than ten summers. “Fjerl’s temple. Know where that is?”

  The boy perked up. “Do I! Just follow me.”

  “Lead on, then.”

  As the boy started to show him the way, a couple of the older lads tried to muscle him out of the way but Reneeke came forward and broke it up. “He and I have a compact. I’ll treat anyone who interferes with that compact most severely.”

  That caused the other boys to back off. The young lad glanced up at him with a look of profound thankfulness. It would seem the younger boys didn’t often get the gate traffic when the older boys were near. As the boy took off down the street, he gave his fellows a smug look of satisfaction.

  Reneeke followed him toward the southeast where the lady he met upon the road had told him Fjerl’s temple would be. It turned out that the southeast quarter was Temple Quarter there in Split Oak. The boy took him past several temples to the more common deities. Spying Fjerl’s symbol, a tree rising from f
resh-tilled ground, he hollered to the boy.

  “This will be fine,” he said. Taking out two coppers, he flipped them to his guide. “Appreciate it.”

  The boy caught the coins and they quickly disappeared into his ragged shirt. “Anything else I can help you with?” the boy asked eagerly.

  “Not at the moment. Though if you happen to be around later, maybe.”

  At the prospect of more work, the boy grinned. “I’ll be here.”

  Reneeke dismounted and thought a moment then said to the boy, “Could you watch my horses while I see the priests?”

  The boy nodded vigorously.

  “Okay, but don’t go near…” he said then pointed to Jaikus-beast, “him.”

  Eyes widening as he noticed for the first time what was strapped to the back of the horse, he nodded again, but more slowly.

  “Be back in a bit.” Reneeke headed for the stairs then paused. He glanced to the boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Borj,” he replied.

  Reneeke nodded. “Thank you, Borj. You can call me Reneeke.”

  He then went up the steps and entered Fjerl’s temple.

  It was a grand temple decorated in earth tones and for someone raised on the farm, it had the unmistakable scent of fresh-tilled earth. Lamps hanging throughout the temple kept the shadows at bay. The area where people interacted with the priests was a large cathedral-like room with a statue of Fjerl standing at the far end. The god was portrayed as a large man dressed in a long flowing robe. His right hand extended outward with the open palm holding a mound of earth from which grew a single stalk bearing two leaves. Legend had it that the two leaves represented man and woman. A ring of leaves wreathed his head. Benches were scattered about and more than a dozen people were present.

  Reneeke paused just within the doorway as he searched for a priest. Spying one emerging through an archway from the back, he made his way to him.

  “Excuse me, Father,” Reneeke said.

  The priest paused and turned toward him. He was an older priest and his facial characteristics marked him as a native of Kittikin. “Yes, my son?”

  “I have a matter which requires the services of your temple.”