by Rodger Carr
The next morning, Gerrod rode north out of the city, to a glen where he knew he could find Charlena, the local druid. His horse, Misty, calmed noticeably once they got outside the tall city gates. The old mare breathed in deep breaths of cool, crisp air. Gerrod walked her off the side of the stone-paved road, where it was easier on her unshod feet. The air was quite cold, and the winds were slightly breezier than they should have been. Most of the trees were already turning color. The rolling hills surrounding the capital city were ablaze with the golds and reds of oaks and maples. "Too early," Gerrod muttered to himself, feeling the breeze on his cheeks. Everything pointed toward an early winter; not a promising prospect.
The ranger left the road for a path that very few could see, and even fewer would be able to follow. The trees themselves seemed to hide the path with their branches, which parted to let him through. After a few hundred yards, Gerrod came upon the glen. Thick underbrush formed a ring, about twenty-five feet in diameter, around a grassy clearing in the woods.
The grass was a pleasant, burnt brown, autumn color. It reflected the gold and crimson of the trees that overlooked this bald spot in the woods. The sun shone warmly, the clearing protected from the chill winds.
Gerrod dismounted Misty, and left her at the edge of the clearing. He didn't bother to tie her up. He knew she wouldn't follow him into the clearing, and she would never run away. The huge black beast waited patiently.
He walked around the circumference of the small area twice. He searched for any of the familiar signs of passage; but couldn't see where anyone had been in the glen since he had left it a couple of days earlier. However, he knew the popular meeting area would have seen quite a bit of activity.
Frustrated by his failed attempts to find any tracks, Gerrod called out for Charlena. He stopped and listened to the echoing winds roll. Not a sound. He smelled the cold wind several times, though he knew she would never approach from the upwind direction. Truly intrigued by the challenge she presented to him every time he visited, Gerrod stood in the center of the clearing and called again. Silently, he quickly spun around. Still, not a sign of her. He quickly spun around again, in a full, sweeping circle, taking in every bit of the glen. Suddenly, as if by magic, Charlena appeared in front of him as he turned, startling him as always. It was just such an entrance, one of Charlena's favorites, which Gerrod had hoped to avoid by his careful inspections. He failed as usual, sending Charlena into fits of delight.
A druid, Charlena could travel through the woods and natural settings without making a sound or leaving any tracks at all. Her movements were as swift as a bobcat, and as accurate as an eagle's deadly dive. Her giggling laughter chimed in Gerrod's ears like the song of a sparrow. Charlena, an elf, was beautiful to look at. Her skin was pale and her frame was slight. Her long, straight hair was the color of honey. She wore a very light dress, spun from the gossamer wings of a dragonfly. Even though it was transparent, it was more decorative than functional. It only served to accent her toned, nude body beneath. On top of her head, she wore a crown of wild flowers, woven into a wreath of holly and grapevines. She was as beautiful as nature itself, and Gerrod complimented her on her appearance. This only served to send her back into childlike giggles. It was difficult to tell whether her laughter was from modesty, which he doubted, or at his embarrassed compliments. She always sensed that her nudity made him uncomfortable, though he had seen her many times before.
"How's Star?" Gerrod asked, only slightly concerned that he wasn't by her side. The ranger knew that his best friend, and usually constant companion, would be in the best of care with Charlena.
"Your pup be fine. He's been waiting on you," she responded in the melodious tones of the elvish language, even though Gerrod had spoken common. He had been spending so much time with the stone dwarves and in the city lately, that it had become his natural language.
As if on cue, a large winter wolf bounded out of the brush and into Gerrod's awaiting arms. Charlena allowed them some time to simply pet and do the usual roughhousing they did whenever they were apart, which was rare. His warm, soft fur felt so welcoming to Gerrod's touch again. He had almost forgotten how much he missed him in the last few days he had been in Oswegonia.
"What have you learned from your woodland friends?" Gerrod asked while holding Star in an affectionate headlock.
"I have learned much over the years; and in turn, I hope they've learned much from me. We are always learnin' from each other, as it should be," she giggled. She knew what Gerrod was asking, but preferred to have fun at his expense. "Unfortunately, there's nothing of what you are asking," she responded more seriously. "So far, nothing seems amiss in these parts. I'd be the first to know."
"The winds are stronger than they should be," he observed. "Looks like we're in for a nasty winter."
"Perhaps, but 'tis to be expected. We've had a very warm, dry summer. Seems only right to be making up for it. Without a good, wet winter, we'd bake for sure next summer. We need the water for spring. Have to keep my children growing," she smiled.
"How about any unusual traffic out of the city? It seems a large number of the King's Guard are set to be leaving in the middle of the night tonight."
"There hasn't been much business coming north lately. You might want to check with Illiana, from east of the city. She may know more about that. She keeps track of the King's Highway. Most any one not wanting to leave a clear path with that many men would have to keep to the highway," she explained.
"Sounds reasonable enough to me," he agreed. "I suppose no one's heard of the necklace before either?"
"I'm afraid not. Druids, as a rule, don't wear much jewelry, as you can see." She did a spin, showing off her nude body. Gerrod knew not all druids wore so little, but Charlena seemed to enjoy it. She explained to him once that it helped her stay closer to nature. It certainly helped him want to stay close to her nature. "Besides, here's the only holy symbol we ever need," she continued. With a fast flick of her wrist, she produced a palm full of acorns. "Of course some prefer pine cones, but for me, there's nothing like a big, tall, powerful oak." The thought sent a visible shiver through her body. She could feel the energy from all the oaks around her, and that energy flowed through her very being. "I'm sorry I'm not being much help to you."
"That's okay. It was a long shot any ways."
"There are many others, besides druids, that worship Sero Riema," she reminded him. "While it not be one of our holy symbols, it may be someone else's."
"Well, thank you. Please, let me know if you do hear anything else. I'll be leaving the city tonight, following the King's Guard. You don't usually have any trouble finding me, though," Gerrod commented with a smile.
"No, I be keeping my many eyes on you, Gerrod the Ranger, friend of Star. Don't you two be gone long, now. And try to stay out of those dwarven mines a while, why don't you? You belong out here, with us."
"Fare thee well, Charlena. I think I'll take Star out for the afternoon before I send him back to you. He'll know where to find me once I leave the city tonight. I promise, I'll be back someday." He heard a noise behind him and turned to see what it was. Misty was still there, and he figured it was just her rustling in the sun-dried leaves. But, when he turned back to Charlena, she had disappeared as quickly as she had come. Gerrod stared intently at the tree line around the still quiet glen, but not even a branch moved to reveal her passing. He sure did hate that.
Defeated, he turned to head back for Misty. Right there in front of him, stood Charlena, startling him again. Before he could react enough to even keep from running into her, she kissed him softly on the lips. "Farewell, Gerrod. Please do come back," she beckoned. Then, as if a dream, she skipped away gleefully, and faded gently into the trees as if she was a ghost. Not a leaf rustled with her passing.
By Mya, Gerrod hated that.
He decided the trip should not be a total waste, He breathed deep the cool, autum
n air. It felt good to be out of the city, as it always did. While he tolerated doing business in the city, he knew his place was out in the woods. He felt trapped between the high walls of mud and stone. Here, the tree branches filtered the sunshine. It didn't blare reflections off solid walls. He felt the life of nature all around him, and he drank it into every pore of his body, like a sponge soaks up water.
Gerrod ran and played with Star all afternoon. They ran through the woods and sprinted across the open fields that surrounded the civilized world. Misty ran along with them; the three like a group of children playing in the sun. They played games of tag and rolled in the tall wild flowers. They drank from cool brooks and watched in marvel at the wildlife that gathered around, recognizing them as friends. Gerrod felt wild and free, like a child again. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he last had such fun. Far too long, that was sure, he decided.
At long last, after an entire afternoon of frolicking in the last of the warm weather for the season, Gerrod reluctantly said goodbye to Star. He returned to the city to meet his dear friends at the inn. He agreed to return to the city only because he knew that he would be spending his next night out under the stars.
Ace confirmed, by his sources, that the troops were indeed leaving the city by the east gates at midnight. They planned to sneak out under the cover of darkness, safe from the prying eyes of the city. That gave the friends time to go over their plans, such as they were.
Corinna used the time to brief them of what happened with Rai'dley at the castle, and what she had learned from her other sources. "I thought the Orb of the Righteous sounded familiar, but then I haven't quite been as fast on the uptake these past few weeks." She pulled out a small scroll and started to read. It was the type of scroll that Gerrod had seen churches use for letters, obviously a response to an inquiry of hers. "Listen to this: 'The Orb of the Righteous is a relic, believed to be crafted by the hands of Veste, god of law and order, as a sign of affection for Aria, the goddess of love and life. Kram, the evil god of jealousy, stole the Orb from Veste and cast the Orb onto Thear. The Orb landed in the Great Sea, where it exploded in the crust of the world, and erupted into a huge volcano. That volcano eventually flowed and cooled to become the four lands of Carrona.'"
Corinna looked up from the scroll to see the stunned faces of her friends. Gerrod had always heard tales of relics, items created by the gods themselves. But he had figured, as everyone else did, that they were just stories told to children.
Real proof of the gods, such as a relic, was extremely rare. Clerics agreed the gods couldn't have any physical, direct contact with Thear. They needed to survive on the faith of their followers alone. The One, the creator of all the gods, dictated it so. Theologians understood that the only way to destroy a god was by destroying all those that believed in that god. Without believers, and the faith they hold in the god, the god would be destroyed. Likewise, the only way the gods can increase their strength and power is to accumulate more believers and followers. Because of this, there was a constant war among the gods for the faith of their followers. Therefore, to be fair to all the gods, The One determined that none should have any physical contact with Thear. Such flagrant displays of power would upset the otherwise balanced war for the faith of the people.
If there was such a thing as the Orb of the Righteous, it would affect not only Carrona, but also all of Thear. Not until this Orb returned to where ever it had come from, would this natural balance of the gods be restored.
"'Return the Orb to its place,'" Gerrod read from their written version of Cy'nan's poem. "Question is, where is its place?"
"Not only that, but if it isn't there, where is it? Where does a thing like that belong? Certainly no place like Carrona, that's for sure!" Ace agreed.
"This is where we're going to need Amanda," Corinna suggested. "Our favorite cleric would know as well as anyone the ways of Veste. She might even have heard of this Council Four. 'Veste forgive the Council Four, set to guard forever more, the Orb of the Righteous,'" she quoted the oracle.
"Those girls should be here any day now. They never miss Reunion," Ace noted. Realizing that what he said could have been insulting, he looked at Gerrod as if to apologize.
"But with the Guard moving out tonight, we don't have time to wait for them," Gerrod pointed out, purposefully overlooking Ace's comment.
"Well, if we're heading east, along the King's Highway, then hopefully they'll go north at the Triangle. Maybe we'll meet up with them somewhere along the way. They'll surely be coming along the Highway from Crystal Meir," Corinna suggested.
"That's if the Guard goes north, and if they stay on the Highway. We don't know where they're going," Ace reminded. "I sure would feel a lot better with our cleric and her sister, in the party. Another strong fighter like Ally never hurts."
"I'm hoping we can avoid too much of a conflict. Even with their help, I don't think we could take the entire legion of King's Guard," Gerrod remarked.
"I'm just hoping that the whole thing isn't a wild goose chase. With our luck, the Guard is probably just going out for a forced march for the fun of it," Corinna admitted, a thought they had all feared. "In any event, we'll just have to leave word here for Ally and Mandy. They can either wait for us or try to catch up. We can't afford to wait for them and lose track of the army. It's our only lead so far."
Allison and Amanda were sisters. Orphaned at birth, the clerics of Crystal Meir found the elven babes and took them in. The Church of Corellon Larethian, the god of the elves, practically raised the sisters. It was their destiny to serve the Church that had given them so much.
Amanda, the younger and slighter built of the two young girls, quickly rose in the ranks of the clerics of their Order. She learned the ways of the Church and adopted the strict discipline of the religion as her own. She was a fairly good fighter, with a heart as big as all the outdoors. Her gentle, non-threatening manner helped soothe the pain when she had bandaged their many wounds during their earlier adventuring days. Gerrod had heard, after Wefpub split up, that Amanda continued to do missionary work for the Church. He hadn't seen either girl since. They all knew Amanda was destined to become High Priest of her Order someday.
Ally was the older sister, though they had always looked close in age. Unlike Mandy, who had fair, blonde hair, Ally had dark brown, almost black hair. Both were slender elves with lithe figures; but under her delicate features, Ally hid a strong spirit. For Ally, her ministry to Corellon took on a different angle. She developed a great interest in fighting and warfare. The power and strength of fighters inspired her. At an early age, she pledged to dedicate herself to Corellon in this way.
Her body was her temple, and she built that temple into a fine fighting machine. She piled muscles onto her slender frame, and honed them to a trim perfection of strength and endurance. She learned the ways of many weapons, and studied the strategies of combat. Whether it was a slender sword or a powerful mace in her firm grip, she pounded her way through hordes of evil creatures that threatened the people of the Church of Corellon. Gerrod had always admired her dedication to the fighting arts. She was but thirty-five winters old when she joined their party, still a child in elven years. Still, Gerrod could see promise in the young child that had joined their gang. She was certainly able to take care of herself.
Above anything else, Ally was a big sister to Mandy. As such, she swore it her duty to protect her younger sibling at any cost. They all knew, and eventually came to rely on the fact, that above anyone else, Ally would protect their cleric. Whenever the Church sent Amanda out on a mission, they understood Ally to follow as her personal bodyguard. Mandy, understanding this loyalty, rarely protested, though she was most often capable of protecting herself. Together, they made a powerful team.
"So it is settled, then. We'll try to get a bit of rest before the Guard heads out. I'm not sure if I can, but I'm going to try to get a fe
w spells down tonight. We don't know what we'll be getting into," Corinna warned. "It'll be best to be as prepared as possible."
Ace and Gerrod headed off to their rooms, leaving Corinna with her spell books and the first watch. One of them had to stay awake. It wouldn't do at all to miss the leaving of the Guard. After studying her spells for a couple of hours, she came and got Ace for his watch. Gerrod's watch came last.
The sun shone warmly upon their faces. Corinna and Gerrod were in a field he knew well, just outside Oswegonia. He'd convinced Corinna to take a day off her studies to join him in frolicking in the warmth of the new spring sun. Corinna had even managed to shed her nauseatingly warm black velvety robe. While she was rarely without it, he persuaded her this was a special occasion. Gerrod had bought her a sundress, made from finely woven cotton cloth, and it bounced lightly on her frame as she ran through the bright wild flowers. Her dark brown hair mimicked the free movement, bouncing about her slender shoulders. He teased her awfully, and she gave him chase about the daisies and the black-eyed susans. They both laughed and giggled like children, and they were happy. More than that, they were in love.
After several feints to the left and the right, throwing her off his trail, Gerrod allowed her to reach out and catch him. He fell to the ground, pulling her down on top of him. Together they plunged into the long grass and flowered weeds.
Gerrod looked up at her from his prone position; at those soft curves of her face and into those wild eyes. Her silky hair hung in his face and tickled his nose. It wove itself in with his blonde mustache and short beard. She reached out with a delicate, thin-fingered hand, and stroked his face, pulling her hair from his mouth. She laughed at the sight, and he couldn't think of anything more beautiful in all the world.
With a single, quick motion, Gerrod shifted his weight and rolled Corinna over, placing himself on top of her. He held her tightly, and she wrapped her arms around him. They kissed a long, passionate kiss -- the kind that stops time. Their lips fused, as if they would never part.
Suddenly, Gerrod felt a hand grip his shoulder. Startled, he rolled over, away from the unseen person invading their personal romp in the wild flowers. As he rolled, he felt the ground fall from under him. He awoke on the floor of his room at the inn. Ace stood on the other side of his bed, a bemused look upon his face. Gerrod held a dagger in his right hand, drawn with instinct.
"Nine bells. It's your watch," Ace said calmly, the smile still spread across his face. "At least you haven't forgotten how to dream, boy." He chuckled as he wandered out of the room, not waiting for a reply. He slowly made his way down the hall to his own room, closing the door behind him. Gerrod wondered how much his sleep had revealed to the dwarf.
Recovering, Gerrod sheathed his dagger and straightened up his room. He made a half-hearted attempt at covering his bed with the furs and blankets there, before leaving them for the housekeeping staff to finish. He washed his face in the basin, pouring a bit of water from the pitcher on the nearby stand. Just the mere basics furnished the room.
Gerrod fumbled through the backpack slung over the post on the footboard of the bed. He fetched out a small can of oil and a cloth. Also, from the other footboard post, he pulled his trusty longsword from its sheath. In a mindless routine, he put some oil on the cloth and began rubbing down the blade of the sword. The oil kept moisture off the metal, and kept its fine edge free of rust. Taking proper care of his weapons was a duty of a fighter. "The weapon is an extension of a fighter. If he takes care of it, it will take care of him," so taught his mentor. Sometimes it would take years to condition a blade to the perfection of a great weapon.
Flicker was such a blade. With a particular thirst for the blood of orcs, Flicker had served Gerrod well over its many decades of service. With its magical ability to locate orcs, it was a fantastic weapon in the dwarven mines of Argunthu. It sought to seek out and destroy the foul invaders as much as he did. It cared nothing for the saving of any dwarven people, though. An insatiable thirst for the blood of orcs motivated its hatred. Gerrod held it by its well-balanced hilt, and softly spoke the command word, "Sh-zot." It glowed with a magical blue light that out shone the dimmed lantern Ace had set on the bed stand. One more oration of the command word, and the light quickly faded out of the blade. Of all that he owned, which was just about all in the backpack, this was his most prized possession.
In falling into the ritualistic cleaning of his sword, Gerrod had hoped to forget the dream Ace had awakened him from. That routine task completed; thoughts of the dream rudely crept back into his mind. It frightened him that there was once a time, too long ago, that Corinna and he could have been so happy and so much in love. It all seemed so far away, and he found a nostalgic tear working its way into the corner of his eye. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her.
He'd kept himself busy, refused to think about it. He'd tried to forget. He refused to let himself get upset over something he didn't have any control over. It was Corinna who had been in control. It always was. Part of him liked it that way. The other part was terrified.
It was somewhat like that when she left, too. While part of him knew why she had to do it, the other part wanted to fall endlessly into a rage of passion that would keep her close. Gerrod loved her so much. He had to let her go; even though it was against everything he wanted. Corinna had a way of tearing someone up like that.
For Corinna, her magic was her life. The two were inseparable. All that Corinna was, was in her magic. Nothing in the world -- not anyone or anything, Gerrod or even Corinna herself, could ever be more important to her than magic. It wasn't surprising when she was offered, what for her, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The elves, traditional guardians of the arts, as they call it, have always held a special bond with magic. They called it 'The Gift.' It was truly remarkable that Corinna, a human, seemed to have been able to possess this gift. She surpassed, in her short lifetime, the achievements of many long-lived elves five times her age. Corinna was magic, and magic was Corinna.
It wasn't even really surprising when she accepted the position. "Apprentice to the Arch-Mage of Midkemia." Besides the knowledge of magic she would glean off the Arch-Mage, which was the only thing that interested Corinna, she would gain fame and fortune. She would develop political contacts at the highest level, influences that would help her the rest of her life. This was her chance to prove herself and to be someone. Gerrod couldn't have asked her to give up an opportunity like that.
It was just surprising she would leave him to do it. There would be no place for him in Midkemia. With nothing but buildings busting up out of the desert sands, there would be nothing to offer a ranger. Gerrod may have even been able to endure that for her, but that wasn't all. There would be no place for him in the life of Corinna, Apprentice to the Arch-Mage of Midkemia. She would have no time for things like running in the daisies, and there would be no place in her mind for him, as she fully dedicated herself to the arts.
It was the very next day, after that romp in the wild flowers, that she bid goodbye to Gerrod the Ranger.
Just then, bells tolled in the distance, ripping into the silence that was the night. Gerrod counted ten bells. Had it been an hour already?
Gerrod sheathed Flicker, and stored the oil and rag back into his pack. (He tossed them in.) He went to the window and opened it. His window looked out over the front of the inn, and he climbed out onto the roof of the porch below. From here, above the glare of the torches and lanterns that burned all night long, he could see the stars in the clear sky above.
The frigid cold lapped at his leather greens, numbing his body. Soon he lost feelings in his fingers and limbs. "Ah, that's better," he thought, giving into the serenity of the numbness. But still, he thought of Corinna.
Now, she was back in his life, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. She was back in control, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for this. It h
ad taken him a very long time, and the meaningless lives of thousands of orcs, to find himself again. He had to learn to take control of his own life, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to give that up, especially to Corinna.
Gerrod remembered how those embers of passion he'd fought so hard to extinguish, had so easily re-ignited at the sound of her voice and the touch of her skin. It would be so easy to go back to the way it was; to give her all the self-control he had worked so hard to regain. He could hand everything back over to her again, and he would be happy.
He would be happy until something came up again. There would always be more opportunities. There would always be magic, and it would always come first. She would never need him, and even though it would be fun and it would be love, he would never be the most important thing in her life. She would never love him the way he loved her. For that, he would always be empty.
The stone dwarves needed him, and they loved him, but then why shouldn't they? He was their hero; come to rescue them whenever they needed. He had saved their lives, the mines, their world, countless times. His blade paid for that love. They would love anyone who swung Flicker in their favor. They did not love him -- they loved what he could do for them.
Gerrod breathed in deep another breath of frozen air. The air was so still, so calm and peaceful. He could hear the clumsy, clamoring noises of the armor of the guards as they made their way up and down the length of the walls on their weary watches.
He could see glint of their all too familiar, polished bronze armor and their red-crescent helmets, reflecting in the clear moonlight. His familiarity with the pale globe told him that it was not completely full, despite its circular shape. Most people may not have been able to tell, but the moon was a friend of his. "Full moon tomorrow," he thought to himself. The moon had risen from below the western horizon, and was just now starting to climb into the darkness of the night sky. It glowed brightly, a silvery-blue, against the velvet of the diamond-studded sky. Now that was something he could trust.
On many nights, the cold pallor of the moon had been his warmest companion. Its regularity, its predictability, made it an inviting mistress. It would rise when it should and set when it should. The moon bathed the naked land with a cold shower of light, even during the darkest of long winter nights. It was safe, and it was kind. It was a guide that allowed him to follow it; it didn't demand he do so. The moon could cause him no pain. It could not break his heart. There was truth in the clarity of its light. There was clarity in its truth.
He would follow Corinna on this quest, Gerrod decided, not because she held a spell over his heart, but because he wanted to. There could be no more romance. He could not allow her to sweep him away like the raging currents of a flooding river. They would do this thing, but on his terms, not hers. That way, if she decided to go running off, he would be left with more than a shattered heart in his empty arms and the look of a dumb boy on his face.
A single tear formed in the corner of his eye, and slowly trickled down his cheek. He had never felt so lonely in his entire life.
Chapter 7
Twelve Bells March