by C. K. Rieke
Following this figure, was the one holding his scimitar, it knocked against the ground as they ran into the cave. This person was also in furs, of white and gray.
“Hey, careful with that,” Gogenanth said as he raised a hand.
The first figure held up the golden sword. “No sudden movements and don’t try anything.”
Gogenanth pulled his hand back and put it apologetically over his head.
“You hungry?” asked the woman, still with the white hood covering her face. Gogenanth nodded.
She gestured for the bigger one to go over by Gogenanth. “Leave the sword,” the figure said.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” the large man said.
***
Not long after, the three of them sat around the warm fire, out of the icy breath of the mountain, eating warm rabbit stew. Not the best Gogenanth ever had, but better than the mutton, and stale bread he carried with him.
“So, what’s your name, big guy?” she asked. In the warmth of the fire, she’d removed her white furs, and Gogenanth saw she had dirty-blond hair that ran down both shoulders, ragged clothing, and tattoos up both arms. She had a deep auburn complexion with deep bronze eyes. Gogenanth caught a whiff of coriander when she removed her furs.
“Gogenanth. And yours?”
“Ezmerelda. Gogenanth. That is quite a name. Not from around here, huh?” she said, and gave him a wink.
“No,” he replied. He took a spoonful of stew and nodded his head at Ezmerelda’s companion. “Are you from around here?”
“No, not from around here either, but not from as far away as you, I bet. That’s Yule. Say ‘hi,’ Yule.”
“Hi,” he said. Yule was at eye level with Gogenanth while seated. He had a scraggly beard, but shaven beneath his nose. Yule was bald, but had a single, long braid on one side of his smooth head. Gogenanth thought there was something unusual about Yule— later he got it, and realized he had no eyebrows.
“Gogenanth, huh? I suppose you don’t have a surname, do you,” Ezmerelda said.
“Just Gogenanth will do.”
“So, you aren’t from around here. Where you hail?” she asked. He didn’t respond. “I’m betting most people think you look exotic around here, but I’ve seen people like you before,” she said. Gogenanth raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Yeah, sure have. I’ve been to the Arr,” she said, and took another sip of stew. “Ugh,” she grimaced and choked down a bite. “This tastes like shit. No offense, Yule, it’s better than I could do.”
“You have been to the Arr?” Gogenanth asked, he shifted slightly towards her.
“Yeah, bloody crazy place.” She took another bite of stew, choking it down again. “Ugh, at least it’s hot. The damned crazy weather up here. Its spring already! I bet it’s nice and warm down at the foothills. At least the Aterax hasn’t come around here in a while. That can be a real monster.”
“How long ago was it?” he asked. Ezmerelda didn’t seem to notice his question, and Yule stood up, and alleviated himself outside. Gogenanth looked at his scimitar out of the corner of his eye.
“You can have it back, I don’t believe you’ll cause a ruckus,” Ezmerelda said, “Yule,” she yelled outside. “Yule, bring back his sword when you come back in.” He did so, and Gogenanth grasped his sword eagerly, sheathed it slowly, and sat back down.
“I was in the Arr . . .” She scratched her head, her tattered hair fell in front of her face . . . “A few years ago, I suppose.”
“What news do you have?” Gogenanth asked eagerly.
“It’s all the same, I suppose, the desert is still there,” she laughed. Gogenanth didn’t seem amused. “Okay, let me remember. Still got little tribal wars, the cities are still there, they are even getting bigger on the Great Oasi. Damn good food, I do remember.”
Gogenanth sat back and looked outside at the icy snow, then looked into the fire. He had thought about his homeland frequently, but didn’t remember much, as he moved away when he was quite young. “You’ve seen the Great Oasi?”
“Yes. One. So, what brings you all the way up these treacherous mountains in the middle of spring?” Ezmerelda asked.
“I’m looking for someone.” He looked especially pale in the firelight with his cold, white skin.
“Funny place to look for someone,” she replied.
“I’m taking a shortcut, didn’t see the storm until it was upon me.”
“Well I hope you find who you are looking for. You are welcome to stay here the night,” she said with a wry smile. “It’s cold out there.”
He smiled back. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
AS they emerged from the cave, the sun rose over the Rion to the east. It was an exquisite soft golden glow over the dark, wicked waters. The air was cool and brisk. Gogenanth stretched his arms out wide, and yawned loudly, almost loud enough to echo through the mountains below. Ezmerelda exited the cave. She wasn’t wearing her furs in the early morning, but rather thin, tanned animal skins. Gogenanth now noticed her body was covered up from her neck down to her toes in tattoos. Her arms and legs were almost completely black.
“You off?” Ezmerelda asked.
“Yes, I’ve got to search for my comrade,” he said.
“You need company?” she asked. “Sounds like an adventure, and its cold up here.” She walked over to him, put her arm around his, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I suppose,” he said.
“Good, I’m really hoping you are a better cook than Yule,” she laughed, and Gogenanth reciprocated with a smile.
“So, who are we looking for? Another fellow like you from the Arr?” she asked.
“His name is Wollen, Wollen Forentooth.”
“A friend?” she asked.
“Something like that,” he responded.
***
As they made their way along the jagged path up and around the high peaks of the mountain, the weather remained chill, and it bit at their exposed skin. The sun was high, directly above, as they walked into the cloud line. Fog appeared all around them, Ezmerelda stretched out her arms and fingers as she walked into the clouds, as if to feel them. She looked like an angel flying through the heavens, half-disappeared in the dense fog.
The three of them— Ezmerelda, Yule and Gogenanth— carefully scaled around the pathways. Their speed had slowed to a crawl, as they could barely see an arm’s length in front of their faces. Warm sunlight had begun to melt the hard ice that covered the rocks, but wet slush and snow had made the trails just as difficult to traverse. Yule, being as big as he was, was surprisingly light on his feet. More than once, he about toppled over, but somehow got his feet in front of him.
Gogenanth walked up to the side of Yule, Ezmerelda trailed behind. “What are you two doing on the mountain?”
Yule continued looking down at his feet. He shrugged his shoulders. Gogenanth didn’t press him, but continued walking behind.
“What are you doing on the mountain?” Yule asked. He didn’t look away from the path set in front of him as he trudged along.
“I’m looking for someone,” Gogenanth answered. He left large snow prints behind him as he took long strides through the snow.
“Oh, I guess we are looking for someone too,” Yule said. Gogenanth continued walking and said nothing. Yule cleared his throat in an abrupt manner. “We came up the mountain to hide.”
“Oh?” Gogenanth asked. Yule’s sudden statement had peaked his interest.
“Bad men down there, bad men,” Yule said, swaying his head from side to side.
“Bad men? Down where?”
“Not on the mountain, down there . . . in the cities,” Yule answered.
“Yes, there are many bad men in the cities. You are right about that.”
“What are you two men talking about?” Ezmerelda asked as she came shuffling up from behind.
“Nothing,” Yule responded. She looked over at him, but
he didn’t return the glance.
“We were just talking about the weather. Weren’t we, Yule?” Gogenanth asked, and he gave a wink to Ezmerelda. Yule smiled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BLACK, thick smoke fell upwards into the sky. Two giant plumes joined to one in the distance. The distinct towers of Garmos Castle sent a shiver down even Gogenanth’s spine, even though it was many miles away. The last time he saw this part of the world, he’d lost one great friend, Gildur.
Yule and Ezmerelda stopped in their tracks, and Ezmerelda seemed to gasp at the site of the dark castle. They entered the foothills at the northern-most caps of the Cascades before hitting the Cariaan River. As they left the great mountain-scape, the green fields of the Aurburn plains felt as welcoming as any landscape could be. Rolling waves of young grass flowed like the rolling sea. Yule and Ezmerelda ran down the foothills, and laid on the soft grass, already forgetting about the foreboding castle on the far side of the plains.
They both took off their wet boots and let the warm sun beams hit their bare feet, as they stretched their waterlogged toes into the air. Ezmerelda laughed and Yule smiled. Gogenanth walked slowly and methodically down the remaining foothills, as if he were expecting something to jump out at them. Ezmerelda took excess clothing made for the mountains and laid them out on the grass to dry. Yule saw she was doing this and did the same.
Gogenanth stood over them, looking out along the horizon line. He covered his eyes with his callused palm to better look into the distance.
“Take a load off,” Ezmerelda said up to him. He looked down at her on the grass, seeing she had a cloth draped over her eyes. He continued surveying the area. She heard a slight bustle of metal, and took the cloth off to see Gogenanth walking off.
She sat up suddenly. “Hey, where you going?”
“I’ve got to go see something. I’ll be right back,” he said as he continued walking.
She yelled out to him, “Hey!” She yelled out again, and began gathering her scattered clothing, she nudged Yule to follow suit. They ran clumsily behind, but she caught up to Gogenanth, who had remained at a steady pace.
Ezmerelda ran directly in front of him, dropped her haphazardly-packed bag, and they both stopped. “What was that?”
“What?” he asked.
“Are you trying to leave us behind?”
“No, I just need to see something. I was going to return,” he said.
“Well, we will go with you,” she said. “Just hold on.”
“Fine, but I’ve come a long way to get here, so may we continue?” he said and walked around her. She gathered up her clothes again and motioned for Yule to follow.
They followed silently behind for a few minutes, but then they began talking to themselves, wondering where their new companion was heading, so silently, so stoically.
After a small distance of walking across the plains, Gogenanth turned his head to the side, and said, “Wait here.”
Ezmerelda and Yule looked at each other in confusion, but put their bags down and laid against them in the green grass.
Gogenanth walked on, edging closer to the mouth of the Yelden Forest. He dropped his pack and drew his sword. He ducked his head low and moved in smooth rhythm closer to the entrance of the Hillspring Trail that headed back down towards Tarluus and Auracity. He inched closer, and once he seemed sure of his safety, he sheathed his sword and walked at casual pace up to a large fallen tree in the middle of the outlet into the plains.
He stood there in front of the great tree, which in no way could have fallen this far from the outskirts of the forest.
“How’d that get there, ya think?” Yule asked.
Without turning Gogenanth replied, “Zaan Talabard.”
Yule looked confused. Ezmerelda walked over to the side of Gogenanth, “That boy who escaped that Black Cave?”
“Ay, that’s the one.”
Yule scratched his head. Ezmerelda looked back at Yule. “He did it with his magic, I heard he’s a sorcerer,” she said.
Gogenanth didn’t respond but knelt down and examined the ground where Reizenthrōgz, the Great Northern Ogre, was slain by the hand of Gogenanth with his own ax. He knelt for several moments, sifting blades of grass between his fingers, and feeling the dirt.
“What you looking for?” she asked him. He didn’t respond, but stood up, climbed the tree to the other side, and examined the ground there as well. “Hey, Gogenanth, what are you looking for?” she asked louder.
“The place has been ransacked,” he said.
“Ransacked?” Ezmerelda asked. “What would anybody take out here? In the middle of nowhere?”
“An ogre,” he said, and he spit at the ground. He began walking a short distance and knelt at an area, a small tombstone lay before him. Ezmerelda and Yule walked over.
“A friend?” she asked. Gogenanth didn’t answer.
“The engraving in the tombstone looks fairly new. Let’s see, what does it say?” She began to read it aloud. “Here passed Xersha D’len, soldier and friend, who fought valiantly one of the great foes of our time. May she rest in peace.”
Gogenanth stood up tall again, and looked out towards Garmos castle. “You smell that?” he asked Ezmerelda.
She sniffed hard. “No, nothing.”
Gogenanth began to run, dropping his pack and his large cloak. Ezmerelda unsheathed her golden sword and chased after. Yule drew out a steel mace and started running.
“Fella’s quick for his size,” Ezmerelda said to Yule as they ran after Gogenanth.
They ran for almost a full mile, then Ezmerelda slowed to find Gogenanth hiding in a tall patch of brush. Yule came running in and hid with them, he huffed heavily as he tried to calm his breathing.
“What is it?” Ezmerelda asked.
“Campfire,” Gogenanth said.
“How many?” she asked.
“Not sure, but we need to be careful. A sorceress was slain here. Who knows what evil remains.”
“We are ready,” she said.
“No. You stay here,” he said, and began a subtle chant she couldn’t make out. Blue smoke started rising through cracks in the dirt, and began to swirl around him. She looked down at his feet, which disappeared. As the blue mists rose, they hid his body and white robes, eventually his face faded into the background.
Ezmerelda looked back at Yule and dropped her jaw. “Did ya just see that?”
Gogenanth walked slowly toward the remnants of the campfire with his scimitar drawn. He looked around and found footprints and impressions from tent poles, but he found no sign of anyone around. The blue wisps twirled around him, and he re-appeared standing by the light trail of smoke from the prior night’s fire. Ezmerelda and Yule came running over and stood by the fire pit.
“Nothing?” she asked. Then the rustle of grass brought the three of them to attention, and all three drew their weapons.
“If it is the sorceress, we need to kill her quickly,” Gogenanth whispered to the other two. Ezmerelda twisted her grip on her sword, and it sounded like leather being pulled taught. Yule held his mace in both hands, out in front of him. Gogenanth held his scimitar pulled back, as if ready to throw it at a second’s notice. He chanted again, and they all drifted out of view.
Beads of sweat dripped down Gogenanth’s brow and a drop fell off his chin. Yule looked out at the grass and back as Gogenanth repeatedly nervously, unsure of the next move.
“What do we do?” Ezmerelda asked.
The rustling sound began again and started getting closer. As it approached, Yule started swaying back and forth, impatiently waiting to see what monster would emerge from the tall grass. The grass split and a figure with broad shoulders emerged. He had a short brown beard, bushy red eyebrows and auburn eyes.
Gogenanth dropped his sword to his side. “Wollen,” he said, and they re-appeared quickly.
“Gogenanth, what in the devil are you doing here?” Wollen said.
“I’d ask you the same,” he responded. “I’m looking for you.”
Ezmerelda looked at Gogenanth, “So this is your comrade?”
Wollen walked over. Gogenanth and he put their hands on each other’s shoulders, and hung their heads slightly.
“I’m sorry you lost Gildur. If only I had gotten over there sooner,” Wollen said.
“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should have protected Xersha and him,” Gogenanth said, hanging his head low still. “Have you found any evidence the sorceress still lives?”
“No, it looks like she may have perished. Rumors from Garmos are that she never returned into the gates of the castle,” Wollen said, looking back at the black smoke stack rising high into the sky.
Gogenanth sheathed his scimitar back into its scabbard. Ezmerelda and Yule put their weapons away as well.
“It looks like both sights of the battle were ransacked by scavengers,” Wollen said.
“Yes, the corpse of Reizenthrōgz has been moved,” Gogenanth said.
“Ay, I hope whoever took it broke it up and burned it. Good riddance,” Wollen replied.
They stood there for a moment. “You heard rumors from Garmos?” Gogenanth asked, with a surprising tone in his voice.
“Yes, ramblings and gossip from a wretched man there. And I also spoke with a group of monaters collecting taxes up there for the House of Publica and Excise.”
“What did they say?”
“One of the monaters told me King Rôagn of Garmos is claiming Angela Dragus the Righteous met with an accident, and is unable to pay tax, as she is most likely deceased,” Wollen said.
“Hmm,” Gogenanth said, “and what of the wretched man you mentioned?”
“The wretched man mostly spoke about the hunger in his stomach, repentance, salvation, and so forth. He was hanging on my clothes and hard to understand. However . . .” Wollen raised a curious eyebrow.