Chapter 20
When the throbbing pain in his head finally ceased, Zeren blinked his eyes open and stared up at a ceiling made out of overlapping copper plates. He had been delirious for a time, and all he could hear were hushed whispers all around him, voices stating he would never wake up, and it was best to put his body into the shroom caverns in order to nourish the crop. He must have inadvertently used his Vis while in that state since he heard screams of alarm and of things being smashed when the voices cried out, saying the belongings around the room were hurtling into the air by themselves. Perhaps it was his way of telling them he still lived. Whatever the case, he had been clearly nursed by someone until he had finally recovered his senses.
Sitting up, Zeren realized he was lying in a fur bed. His clothing had been removed, but he could see the set of brigandine armor at the far corner of the room, along with his sword still hanging in its scabbard. So it seems I am not a prisoner after all, he thought. As his memories came flooding back to his mind, he recognized the surroundings as being the home of Syviss. It was apparent everyone else had left him alone.
He heard a child’s voice coming from somewhere. “You are awake.”
Twisting his head, Zeren noticed Thalena standing in an alcove at the other side of the room. He had not seen her right away because the little girl had been staying by his blind side, silently observing him. Zeren gave her a thankful smile. “Have you been watching me for a long time?”
The child shook her head. “I entered when I sensed you would awaken.”
Zeren wanted to leap out and hug her, but it was clear he was naked underneath the fur and leather covers of the bed. “Have you been reading my thoughts since the eventide when you saved my life?”
Thalena shook her head a second time. “No. I was bedridden like you.”
He nodded. “Well, I am glad we both survived our ordeals. What you did must have been very painful.”
The little girl nodded silently.
“It seems I owe you a debt I cannot really repay,” Zeren said. “Of course, I shall do my utmost to fulfill anything you desire, all you have to do is name it.”
Thalena’s intense eyes locked onto his own. “Find my father.”
Zeren was jolted by her directness. “What? Your father is Fumal Led is he not?”
The girl nodded again.
“I was led to believe he is dead,” Zeren said. “Unless they are perhaps not telling the truth?”
Thalena’s voice was a low whisper. “They believe he is dead, but I can still feel his faint echo calling out to me.”
She had his full attention now. Zeren had heard of Strigas being able to sense thoughts from far away. “Where is this echo you are hearing? Can you give me directions to it?”
The little girl began to cry. “No, I do not know. But he lives, I know it!”
Wrapping the blanket around his waist out of modesty, Zeren stood up, walked over to the little girl, and crouched down beside her. He placed a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder. “Hush now. Do not be saddened. Fumal Led was like a father to me as well. I believe what you have said and I promise you I shall find him. When I do, shall I return him back to you?”
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. “No! When you find him … you must kill him.”
Zeren fell slightly backwards in shock, his buttocks hitting the bare stone flooring of the abode. “What did you say?”
“It is what he desires,” she said softly before turning away and letting out another sob.
The entryway flap parted and in came Syviss and an old man he did not recognize. Thalena’s mother quickly ran over to her daughter’s side and swept her tearful child up in her arms, making soothing noises to calm her down.
“We had thought you would never wake up,” the old man said as he held up an open palm in a gesture of peace. “I am Herrc, a healer.”
Zeren grunted as he walked back over to the bed and sat down. “May I have something to wear?”
Still cradling the child in her arms, Syviss pointed to a pair of leather pants lying near a bronze shelf. “That belonged to my husband, you may wear it. What has my daughter been telling you?”
Zeren took the piece of clothing and began to put it on underneath the blanket he had draped around his waist. He instantly got a thought message from Thalena, mentally telling him to not divulge what she had just tasked him to do. “Nothing, I merely thanked her. And I must thank you all again.”
Syviss narrowed her eyes at him. She remained unconvinced, but she decided not to press the issue any further for the time being.
“Spitewort is quite a potent venom,” Herrc said. “In small amounts, it is enough to incur strange visions, in large quantities it would normally be lethal. The whore who had placed it in your drink claimed she had put enough of it to kill three men. You have the gods to thank for your life.”
Placing the leather tunic over his chest, Zeren smiled as he ran his hand along the cloak still hanging on a peg by the wall. Thankfully the vial of elixir was still there, hidden among the many folds of his outerwear. “I have learned my body can be quite resilient.”
The old man shrugged. “Perhaps it is because you are a Magus. It could be your health is far more robust than an ordinary man’s. You were in widdendream for a few days.”
“Perhaps,” Zeren said. “So they did question the slut who had placed poison in my drink then?”
Syviss nodded. Thalena had by now fallen asleep, and she had placed the girl gently on a nearby bed. “The moment I saw you and my daughter, others had already came out of their abodes, for the noise of battle was heard all along the cliff wall. The wench you had a drink with was questioned and imprisoned, and she would have been put to death had you died. You were given safe passage by the Council, and any violation of their commands is subject to execution in these lands.”
“I see,” Zeren said. “I think it best to let the poor woman go.”
Herrc raised a silvery eyebrow. “You seem to be quite the merciful one.”
Zeren shrugged. “She is but a poor widow, and no doubt a novice when it came to knowing how to poison someone. She probably placed too much venom into my cup for she did not know any better. And it is clear she had been threatened to do so or was desperate for some barter to support her children. She had no real part of this.”
The old healer nodded. “Yes, it seems the ones who did have a part in it are dead.”
“Not all of them,” Zeren said. “One went by the name of Qarlo, and he fled rather than face me.”
Syviss shook her head. “He is nowhere to be found, most likely fled on a sand trike at the very eventide when they attempted to murder you.”
Zeren sat down on a flattened rock with a sigh. “So if the Council considers this matter to be ended, then I agree with them. Do you know of anyone else in this commonality who harbors ill feelings towards me?”
“Most people here respect you due to your gift of Vis,” Syviss said. “Vlaex was the only one who spoke out against you at the Council. With his death, I do not believe there are any more who would threaten you.”
Zeren gave her a satisfied smirk. “Good, for I had now forgotten all about it.”
Herrc began to shamble towards the entryway. “I shall inform the Council you are well again, and will forgo any vendetta against Vlaex’s kin. I am sure they will be quite pleased to hear that.”
After the old man had left the room, Syviss walked over to the fire pit and began to place some dried manure at its center. A pot of lukewarm algae tea lay nearby. “What shall you do now, Zeren?”
“I will need to speak with my companions from Lethe,” he said. “To tell them I shall be staying on until Fumal Led’s task is completed.”
She made a cynical look. “You seem dead set to follow my husband to the afterworld. What makes you think you could fare any better?”
Zeren held his palms up and chuckled. “I have the advantages of youth in addition t
o my good looks.”
Syviss snorted as she began to rub a piece of flint against steel to light a fire. “You may not realize this, but you have no esteem amongst the people here. My husband gained their trust and respect over many cycles, for he was always helping them. I have heard mocking rumors about you, trying to convince a few of the men here to mount an expedition against the Maker. Let me tell you this, they shall never heed your words until you prove to everyone you are a boon to these people.”
Zeren frowned. “But did you not say they were in awe of my Vis?”
“A Magus is certainly respected by all here due to their sheer power,” Syviss said. “But are you one who would help them?”
“Tell me how I might earn their respect.”
“Fumal Led never fought on their behalf against the Khanate,” Syviss said. “But he did many other things. He led hunting expeditions and smuggled supplies to prevent some families from starving. My husband even rescued a number of unwilling youths from other tribes to be sacrificed to the Maker and brought them to us for sanctuary. It took some time, but he became an honored guest whenever he returned to us.”
Zeren folded his arms in impatience. “Time is not what I have. Tell me how to gain everyone’s respect quickly.”
She started stoking the now smoldering fire with a bronze rod. “If you want that, then you shall have to do something extraordinary to make everyone here take notice.”
“Such as?”
Syviss pursed her lips. “Perhaps being able to take and conquer an entire crew of a sand sail all on your own?”
Zeren stood up and began to buckle the sword belt around his waist. “Very well- I shall do just that.”
She gave him a surprised look. “I was merely jesting with thee. Surely you cannot mean to attack a Khanate land ship and expect to prevail?”
He gave her a wink.”With all due respect for Fumal Led, you have not seen a Magus in his prime. Neither have the others in this hold. Now I shall show you just what someone like me can truly accomplish. You said there are people who owe you some aid, yes?”
Syviss nodded meekly. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Yes, but—”
He held up a finger to interrupt her. “I shall require the services of one of them and one of those little sand sails.”
“We call them trikes.”
“Trikes then,” he said. “Do you know anyone you can call upon who possesses one?”
“Yes?”
He beamed at her confidently. “Good, that is all I shall need.”
Zeren leaned back on the leather chair as the howling winds propelled him at great speed across the sand dunes. He rode in the left side of the trike’s triangular hull while the man beside him continually shifted the rope on the small sail jutting above the three-wheeled vehicle. The ride was a bumpy one, but there were straps holding him in place as the trike alternately careened and dashed across the wastes. The speed of these smaller land ships was astounding, and he wished to learn the nuances on how to pilot such things someday.
The lanky man sitting beside him was named Kelob, and he was a veteran driver of his craft. A number of cycles before, Fumal Led had saved Kelob’s life when the latter was attacked by a poisonous octapede many cycles ago, and Kelob felt a debt had to be paid. Convincing him wasn’t easy, but Zeren had promised he would not have to do any fighting, yet would still reap the rewards of any plunder taken. In the end the offer was accepted.
Kelob grinned as he adjusted the rear rudder, sending the hurtling trike towards a small mountain range in the twilit horizon. The darkness of eventide would help to mask their approach against any of the larger sand sails, for they heavily counted on the element of surprise. He was quite skeptical if this brash Magus would truly be able to conquer an entire fully crewed sand sail all by himself, and Kelob had silently vowed he would abandon this foolhardy Vis user should fortune suddenly go against them.
Squinting his eyes, Zeren noticed something along the edge of the rocky ridges. He pointed so the pilot could see it. “Look, over there!”
Kelob saw it too and he nodded. The rumors concerning large numbers of disparate sand sails passing by the more desolate routes of the flatlands had just been proven true. Thalena had used her mindsense to locate a potential vessel for Zeren, and the young child did not disappoint now they had finally seen one in the very place she had told them to travel to. Zeren felt the young girl would grow to become a very powerful Striga in due time, her Vis giving her the unfair advantage of having foreknowledge with the whereabouts of any sand sails the pirates could prey upon.
Adjusting the trike’s course to veer off towards a side of the ridge where they would not be detected, Kelob glanced at his companion while keeping a careful eye on the opposing vessel. His voice was now at a low whisper in order not to be heard. “It seems to be moored by the other side, no doubt stopping to rest for the eventide.”
Zeren began to unstrap himself from the leather restraints that had prevented him from falling off the trike while they moved speedily across the flatlands. “Just get me to the ridge and I shall do the rest.”
Kelob had a lighter touch as he deftly maneuvered the trike’s sail until the small vehicle got close to the edge of the stone outcropping. “You are fortunate this eventide for it looks to have no more than a dozen crewmen, and I suspect most of them shall be slumbering. I await you here, and I must tell you I shall flee without you at the merest sign of trouble.”
Zeren patted his shoulder before clambering out of the vehicle’s triangular hull. “I would not have it any other way, my friend. I shall see you again in due time.”
Kelob gave him an ancient gesture of good luck by forming a V with his index and forefinger as Zeren began to clamber silently onto the rocks, making his way towards the other side.
He had thought about wearing his brigandine armor, but Zeren figured it would only slow him down. All he had on was a thick leather gambeson on his shoulders and chest, along with the ubiquitous steel vambraces on his forearms. Zeren had brought along two bronze daggers, each one in a small sheath at the sides of his boots. Despite being offered a flintlock pistol to take with him, Zeren declined, thinking the noise the weapon made when it fired would eliminate any chances of surprise on his part.
Sure enough, there was only one guard standing on the deck, sitting by the ship’s wheel. Zeren continued to make his way in between the rocky boulders that jutted out along the ridge until he could get close enough to launch himself onto the top end of the vessel. A single, smoldering torch was attached along the lower base of the main mast. Approaching from the opposite direction, Zeren slowly sneaked his way towards the side of the land ship’s hull as he kept to the shadows.
The guard seemed to be wearing a different set of clothes compared to a typical Khanate crewmember, giving Zeren a moment of pause. The man looked to be a member of another tribe, one not normally crewing a vessel belonging to the Khanate. Zeren had briefly contemplated making a silent kill, but now he felt it might be better to spare the man’s life, perhaps earning even greater prestige amongst the pirates if he could take the whole sand sail without any blood being spilt.
Zeren noticed the bronze turnbuckles used to hold the rope pulleys together on the main mast could be loosened. He narrowed his eyes, using the technique that had been taught to him by Rion. By using his Vis to untie the knots keeping the mainsail furled up, he could free the large, metallic pulleys as a sort of distraction. It wasn’t quite as precise as being able to open locks which the boy could do, but Zeren felt it was within his power to do succeed at a simpler task such as this one.
Raising his hand slightly, Zeren began to concentrate. He could feel the invisible waves of mental energy slowly emanating from his right hand as the mindforce began to manifest itself. During his time with the Magi Order, he had only been taught to generate as strong a Vis as possible, and to either use it to propel himself in battle, or to hurl it against his enemies to throw them back. Wha
t Rion had told him was to use a deft touch; instead of attempting to produce Vis akin to a sandstorm, the boy suggested it would be more prudent to create something subtle, like a soft breeze that could be hardly perceived.
The guard himself seemed to be in a drowsy state while standing listlessly by the gunwale, leaning against it for support. Zeren gritted his teeth as he coalesced the force waves into a sort of phantom limb, an extension of his own physical self. Projecting his Vis outwards, he focused its effects upon the turnbuckles, slowly untying a large knot holding one of the larger pulleys close to the mast. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as the intense fixation put undue stress on his mind. The simple matter of keeping the mindforce into a concentrated, constant stream of Vis was mentally taxing, and he wondered just how the boy was able to do it with such apparent ease.
The knot in question began trembling, as if some unseen hand had begun pulling at the lines, doing its best to untangle the bond holding it in place. The lone sentry sensed something in the air, but failed to turn around, falling back to his usual state of lethargy while keeping an eye on the far dunes at the opposite side. Before mooring the sand sail that afternoon, the crew had thoroughly inspected the small tangle of boulders in case of anyone being hidden on it and found nothing. It was therefore prudent that any guard for the eventide would be concentrating their alertness towards the wastes, watching out for any vessel approaching from that side.
After what seemed to be a number of anxious moments, the knot began to finally unravel, allowing the pulley to slip out as the tying bond underneath it had finally given way. Zeren couldn’t help but smile. Now the heavy pulley was suspended by a single heavy line from above, he could now use the mindforce in a looser sense, no longer constrained by the nuances of precision.
The eventide wind was fair, and the bronze pulley began to sway slightly back and forth, a testament to the strong air currents in the area. Zeren began to deftly add to the fluctuation, using the mindforce to strengthen the pulley’s swings as the loose block began to violently move back and forth like a tall pendulum.
The Maker of Entropy Page 22