Pilgrim of the Storm

by Russ Linton

  Both guards wore conical helms and shirts of woven mail. They held spears with needle-like points perfect for skewering chinks in armor—or between plates of chitin. At their belts hung stout-headed gadas; scepters of solid iron which Sidge imagined could shatter him like a shard of pottery.

  One of the guards approached and Sidge drew the horses to a stop. The sentry came to attention, stomping his foot and angling the spear across the road. His companion shuffled forward next, mirroring the actions only with less urgency.

  With a flick of their wrists, thin banners unfurled from the points of each spear, colors swimming beneath the lantern light. Each banner displayed the silver silhouette of an equine beast with spiral horns. These were the Moonstriders that, according to the Rebellion, led the Attarah to safety as the humans fled Kurath's Sun Palace.

  The first guard scanned the driver's seat. Watchful eyes passed over Sidge then stopped on Chuman; the guard spoke in a deep, commanding tone, "What business do you have in Stronghold?"

  Chuman stared straight ahead.

  Sidge could see Kaaliya stir on the roof, her feet swinging down between him and his bench mate. She nudged Sidge with her boot and began digging through her pack. What was he to say? Shouldn't their business be obvious?

  "We are pilgrims," said Sidge. "We come from the Stormblade Temple so we may follow in the footsteps of the mighty Attarah."

  "A bugman Cloud Born? Nonsense," said the other guard.

  "Pardon me, but I am no Cloud Born. I am an acolyte. My master rests in the wagon, for we have had a long and eventful journey," said Sidge.

  Kaaliya continued to rummage through her pack, offering no assistance.

  "What have you to say?" The unconvinced guard tilted his spear toward Chuman. "Are those even your robes?"

  The giant remained silent as his eyes tracked the fluttering banner at the end of the spear.

  "Well?" The guard jabbed at Chuman, the deadly point stopping far enough away to clearly show the intent wasn't injury. Yet when the guard withdrew his weapon, the banner unfurled, caught in the giant's hands.

  Chuman studied the symbol intently. Shocked, the guard yanked on the spear and the banner drew taut between them.

  "How dare you lay hands on the Attarah's charge!"

  The second spear lowered to train on Sidge while the guard struggled to twist the banner free. For Chuman, the motion appeared to be a minor annoyance as he turned his head back and forth, watching the banner dance.

  "I know this creature," Chuman said.

  "Unhand it or I'll run you through!"

  Sidge rose, his palms wringing furiously. "Please, we—" The second spear pressed dangerously to his chest. He fell back against the cabin, as Kaaliya slipped onto the bench from the roof.

  Her hand touched Chuman's. She smiled at the dull-eyed man and Sidge tensed.

  Sidge would never forgive himself if he allowed her fascination with their clearly dangerous companion to place her in danger. Maybe he could pull her away and leave the dolt to his fate. Sidge scooted forward on the seat, pressing against the spear point, preparing to act. He felt the tension in his limbs relax as the banner slipped from Chuman's grasp.

  Kaaliya turned her attention to the guards. "Peace be upon you." Poised between driver and passenger, she performed the pilgrim's bow on the narrow bench. "I am here as a guest of the Royal House."

  This was new information. She'd said she knew nobles, though that wasn't necessarily the Attarah's house. She bent further, her head tucked low, and she presented a small, silver egg to the guards.

  The egg shifted, and at first the eerie lamplight playing on the surface seemed to be the source. Veins of light turned into dark seams and those seams expanded, clicking into place. Four legs sprouted, and a head, followed by a horn which flicked up from the crown. When it came to rest Kaaliya held a perfect miniature of the Moonstrider symbol on the banner.

  The spear against his chest fell away and the first guard retreated. "My apologies. You've missed the normal festival crowd. The gates are closed at nightfall by the Attarah's order. I believe we can make an exception."

  Chuman slid closer to Kaaliya and hunched over the figure like a man seeking warmth from a fire. He extended a blunt finger. Kaaliya watched with amusement. The tip of his finger grew closer and closer and the giant rose into a crouch, pulled on an invisible thread, muddy eyes squinting. The bench popped under the shift of his weight. He touched the figurine, so lightly it wasn't clear any contact had even been made, and it collapsed into a seamless egg again.

  The skeptical guard kept his spear leveled. He shook his head. "How do we know that isn't stolen, too?"

  Kaaliya pulled off her hat, her silken hair spilling over her shoulders, alive in the play of the lanterns. She stood, transformed, more than removing the hat should allow. No longer a dusty traveler, she was a radiant princess addressing her subjects.

  "Very well. I can wait until the morning when the gates open. I shall report to Lord Chakor that you have accused his courtesan of thievery. Perhaps you can have words with the Captain of his guard."

  The sentry closest to Sidge shot his compatriot a murderous glare.

  "That will be unnecessary. Please." His spear again at his side, he spun the weapon, point down and moved to the roadside, gesturing toward the gate with the spear tip and lowering his head. "Seek refuge in the Urujaav's song, gift of the Attarah. May you be protected from the terror of Kurath forever and all time."

  Finally words and actions Sidge understood. It was a recitation of the six hundred and ninth mantra of the Rule. He rose and bowed and Kaaliya did the same.

  The second guard spat, loped to the opposite side and waved them on. Sidge urged the horses toward the bridge while Kaaliya settled in beside him, pressed close due to Chuman's bulk.

  As the vardo rolled past, the more amenable of the two guards leaned forward. "I don't suppose you saw Master Gohala call the Wisdom? Did he tell you what he saw?"

  Sidge stared, dumbstruck, as the horses clomped onto the bridge.

  No. He'd not seen Gohala do anything of the sort.

  They weren't on the bridge long when Kaaliya grabbed his hands and flicked the reins. She was guiding the horses, away from where the Paint had meandered close to the rail, pulling the docile Nag with him. "Wake up. Can't let that one guide the cart."

  Sidge nodded vacantly, the guard's claim echoing in his head, and under a snort of protest from the Paint, he brought the vardo true to the center of the bridge.

  "Did you hear what the guard next to me said?"

  "Him? What about the ass he was working with?" Kaaliya propped on the rail and she bent forward, digging in her boot. "I want to warn you, Sidge. People are going to treat you differently here. Don't put up with their shit." She drew the knife and appraised the blade.

  "Hold on," he replied, drawn from his shock by the dagger's glint. "Violence will not be necessary."

  Kaaliya pouted then wiggled her eyebrows. "I suppose not." She tossed the knife over the bridge and it struck the moat with the sound of a bursting bubble. Water ringed outward where it sank; with each ripple, Sidge heard the song of the city answer.

  "Why did you do that?"

  "There was a toll to enter the city once, to guarantee protection inside the walls. Travelers tossed spare weapons into the moat. I suppose it kept the peace," replied Kaaliya. "Though all those unsophisticated commoners also say the water might rise to defend the city. Best if it's armed."

  Sidge peered into the moat. Even at night, the glassy surface reflected the pin-pricked fabric of the sky in perfect detail. Seeing the bottom would be impossible.

  "I thought you didn't believe in those things. Temple teachings or commoner's tales," Sidge said, as he returned to his seat.

  "Wrong," said Kaaliya. She held up the silver egg. "I said I believe in what gets me through the day. Protection, that's a useful thing. Hopefully I won't need it."

  "Speaking of legends and such, what of the silve
r egg you have? What sort of magic?" asked Sidge.

  As though reminded by Sidge's words, Chuman reached for the silver egg with his enormous hand and Kaaliya pushed him away with ease. She tucked it in her knapsack. "Keep all those eyes on the bridge. I'll show you later."

  Sidge leaned against the cabin. "They did mention the Urujaav. I never knew that was part of the gate ritual."

  "You and your fungus-snorting master make quite the pair. You'll find there's always another side to things, Sidge." Her playful guise faded. "And I'm serious about what I said. Don't let anyone push you around here, got it?"

  He quirked his antennae and nodded.

  They neared the end of the bridge, and the gates groaned open. As impressive as the walls were from a distance, the sprawling city within was even more so.

  A wooden boulevard stretched ahead. Unlike the rough-cut trunks of the outer wall, the boards in the street had been planed and polished. Lanterns hung everywhere, their mysterious sources casting dappled shadows that crawled across the buildings. With the eerie light, Sidge imagined himself floating deep beneath an inhabited sea. Banners, washed in tones of pale blue and green, lined the boulevard.

  On all sides, buildings rose into the night, their details lost in the dimness. Façades glowed with candlelight through oddly opaque windows. Rooftops stair-stepped upward to flat peaks, where many of the grander houses supported open porches beneath columned domes .

  As they passed beyond the gatehouse, a chain as thick as a man's chest and nicked with age reeled into a hidden recess. A soft patter accompanied the metallic clank. His antennae detected an odd familiarity in the sound and he let them focus there, searching for a source. Unable to find it, with the vardo pressing on through the gates, his senses were soon lost to the city.

  Music and laughter drifted from a nearby hall, mingling with a gentle lapping of water beneath the streets. Compared to the persistent song, however, the merriment sounded far away. This was a current which pulled him forward, toward the heart of the city and he nearly released the reins to let his wings carry him there.

  The gates ground to a close, and the aftershock rumbled through the planks under the vardo. Kaaliya had taken the reins out of Sidge's limp hands again and drew the vardo to a stop.

  "Beautiful? Amazing? Marvelous?" she laughed.

  "Inspiring."

  A shout came from inside the vardo. "Have we arrived?"

  "Master!" Sidge tumbled from the driver's bench and sped toward the back.

  The wagon shook and Izhar hopped down to the street in front of him. "Good, I'm famished!"

  "Oh, Master!"

  He examined Izhar thoroughly. The Cloud Born appeared well-rested. No injuries. Nothing out of place. Nothing except the corestone, which should have rested beneath his matted beard. So far, he didn't seem to know it was gone. That would not be a pleasant conversation.

  Izhar gave a quizzical look under the scrutiny. Sidge continued to examine his master, wondering when it had become inappropriate to hug him. Burrow in the matted beard. It was so good to see him unharmed.

  Sidge dropped into a bow. "We need to talk, Master."

  "We eat and talk, acolyte." Izhar dragged him to his feet. He jangled a small pouch. "I've been saving a bit for this auspicious occasion." He smacked his lips. "And tea. When did we have char leaf? Can't get the taste out of my mouth."

  Izhar crossed the street toward the public hall. An aroma of spices and roasted meats wrapped the din of conversation drifting from the building. The smell was intoxicating, but the wagon sat unattended in the street. Sidge saw Chuman dismount and carefully lower Kaaliya to the ground in his powerful arms. She patted his muscular forearm and slung her bag over her shoulder, turning toward the city.

  "Wait!" Sidge yelped.

  "Ah yes, the wagon. See that it's squared away," Izhar called, continuing toward the hall. "And make sure Mistress Kaaliya joins us," he shouted, loud enough for her to hear. "A drink to the journey ahead and behind!"

  "Of course," said Sidge. He started for the vardo and called out to Kaaliya, "You will join us, right?"

  "I'm expected elsewhere. And between here and there, a long stop at a bathhouse."

  The Nag shifted in the harness and let out a soft moan. The poor creature was in dire need of rest. Even the Paint stared anxiously toward the stables. Chuman, in the shadow of the vardo, barely registered. Conversations with Izhar and tending to the horses and stowing the vardo, there was so much to do, but he couldn't let Kaaliya slip away.

  "I could join you." Sidge watched her eyebrows raise over a wicked grin that made his insides flutter faster than his wings ever could. "I mean, I could escort you. Or a ride. Yes. You'd need a ride. I'll put away the horses later. And you promised you'd show me the figurine. Yes. You promised."

  She looked at her feet, and walked to the front of the vardo. Sidge waited, two of his hands wringing beneath his robes. She took hold of the harness. Obediently, the horses and Chuman fell in behind as she walked toward the stable yard. "I don't suppose a drink would hurt."

  "Not at all. One drink." Sidge agreed.

  CHAPTER XV

  They sat on pillows around a low table in the dining hall. Izhar lounged across from him and Chuman occupied the end. The giant man was like a screen, blocking off the rest of the dining hall. Sidge could appreciate the privacy, for Kaaliya had chosen to sit right beside him. Still, the night wasn't going entirely as he'd hoped.

  He'd told Izhar about the stolen corestone first. After that, his tight-lipped, flushed master had begun tapping his finger on the table in furious silence, an action which terrified Sidge more than it should given his earlier vision. Kaaliya had suggested a game, and Sidge wholeheartedly agreed. Izhar hadn't so much agreed as declined to say otherwise. While her idea had improved the mood at the table, Sidge was regretting the decision as he tried to describe the vision to Izhar.

  "And I turned and it was you, Master, urinating in the pond!" Sidge slammed the porcelain cup on the table with one of his eight arms. Maybe nine. He wasn't sure why he'd grown so many. But this was nothing compared to Kaaliya's four breasts. His fellow acolytes who'd been so taken by the carved images on the arch of Cerudell would be quite pleased.

  "Again, you're staring." Kaaliya filled his empty cup. "Drink."

  "By Vasheru's urine-tainted waters, glorious be their golden shores! How do you do that?" Most of his arms shot outward with his proclamation and a few more fumbled for the cup. Kaaliya's crooked grin was the only thing not kaleidoscoping in the facets of his eyes. He also wasn't sure if the few patrons he could see past Chuman's broad shoulders were looking his way or if it was one angry-looking man, repeated, like a chain of mirrors.

  Izhar choked off an explosion of laughter, his belly jiggling over crossed legs. "Sidge," he managed to stammer, "Decorum."

  Both of them burst into a drunken guffaw and he remembered why he'd agreed to the game in the first place. He'd wanted to change Izhar's dark mood after he'd told him what had happened to his corestone. Also, it had meant Kaaliya would stay longer.

  Kaaliya chuckled noiselessly. "Quite a story, Sidge."

  "Not a story," Sidge slurred. He spread his upper arms to try and encompass the scope of everything he'd seen. With his middle arms, he maneuvered the cup to his mouth, drained the contents, and grasped it between his mandibles. Leaning over the table, he tried to set the cup down without using his hands. He bumped the pitcher as he struggled and Kaaliya snatched it before the tarry liquid sloshed out.

  Sidge ignored the near-disaster and waved his cup in Chuman's face. "Take it! Cry in it so I can swim! I'll show you all!"

  Chuman peered deep into the hollow space but didn't cry.

  "Alright," Izhar said, wiping tears from his eyes. Sidge let him take the cup from his mandibles and upturn it on the table. "You've had your fun." His master gave Kaaliya a look.

  "I like him this way!" protested Kaaliya. "He's much more relaxed. And his storytelling is vastly improved.
"

  Sidge's antennae drooped. This was not how he envisioned this conversation. Not at all. With a series of sharp breaths, he tried to clear his mind. He threw his hood over his head, huffing in a steady rhythm.

  He felt the over-sized pillow they were sitting on shift. Kaaliya placed a hand on his forearm and scooted closer. He let loose a much too audible sigh.

  "Are you meditating?" she asked.

  With her so close, he let his antennae swim in her presence. She had mentioned a bath and she did smell of trail dust and even a faint, bitter tinge of weathered copper—a smell he'd grown familiar with while trying to remove the sap from the roof. A hint of the sap was there, too, but under all these subtle scents was an aura distinctly hers.

  He tried to lean into her and fell backward on the pillow as the whole room spun.

  "Why did you do this to me?" Sidge groaned.

  "Me?" Her reply dripped with feigned innocence.

  Izhar tottered to his feet. "Perhaps it's time for tea," he said and wandered into the hall.

  "No! No tea!" Sidge shouted, again, much louder than he intended. "I won't drink that bloody swill!"

  "Shhh," said Kaaliya. She pulled him upright and slid her arm between his wings and back. He let his head drop to her shoulder.

  "Don't worry, the tea here is fabulous," she reassured him.

  "Blood. Flesh. In a cup." For a moment he was sure he would vomit. Kaaliya kept her arm around him but scooted away and swiped an empty bowl from the table. The feeling passed and she hesitantly put the bowl in his lap.

  "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Your vision?"

  "No!" Sidge flung back his hood and scooted away. No longer doused in solely her presence, the air felt sticky and volatile on his antennae. "Nothing. And it wasn't a vision. He was there!" Sidge pointed at Chuman, whom he'd nearly forgotten was at their table. "This strange naked man was there! If I had a vision, why would he be there?"

  The muddy eyes left the empty cup. "I am no longer naked."