Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  Astrid flinched slightly as one of the old woman’s hands found the still-tender crossbow bolt wound. The old woman cocked her head and squinted her eyes. She had noticed the flinch, but said nothing.

  “Thank you,” was all she said, then let the silence hang while she locked eyes with Astrid. The old woman’s ice-blue met Astrid’s hazel.

  A smile opened her craggy face. “I am Elder Popova. Welcome to Argan Village!”

  When she held up her arms, the faces around her brightened. The villagers moved forward in a gentle rush. By the time it was over, Astrid thought she had shaken nearly a hundred hands.

  The crowd burbled and gracefully led Astrid and Vinnie to a well that occupied the central place in Argan.

  “Fitting,” Astrid said, resting her hand on the stone cylinder of the wellhead.

  At that, Popova cocked her head, then turned to the village. “I’m sure we all have work to do,” the Elder raised her voice above all heads. “There will be plenty of time to meet with our new friends.”

  “New protectors!” someone shouted.

  Astrid gave Vinnie a raised-eyebrow side eye. Vinnie shrugged. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” he said.

  “What’s a penny?” Astrid asked.

  “Coin of the new ancients,” Vinnie replied. “It means—”

  “I get it,” Astrid said, placing a hand on his meaty shoulder. “The saying that is. Not the penny thing. For some reason, I like giving you a hard time.”

  “And for some reason,” Vinnie replied, patting her hand, “I like that you do. I don’t afford many people that opportunity.”

  “Noted,” Astrid said with a beaming grin.

  The village dispersed, leaving the original three at the well, plus Popova and one more.

  “This is our village scribe, Jordane,” Popova said with a sweep of her hand.

  A tall, skinny man with gray skin and a long face stepped forward. His words were kind, but his voice was flat, so that Astrid didn’t know what to make of him.

  “It’s a pleasure,” he said, reaching out his hand to Astrid first. “Just looking at you two gives me hope.”

  When he shook Vinnie’s hand, the big man pulled him into orbit a bit forcefully. “The village scribe, eh? Do you have a workshop?”

  “Of course,” Jordane said, face brightening.

  “Can I see this workshop?” Vinnie asked like a child asking for candy. He let the man’s hand go as if he had forgotten he was still shaking it.

  “Of course,” Jordane said.

  “Argan is now your home,” Popova said. “But before you settle in, we must discuss payment.”

  Astrid raised both eyebrows and cast a quick glance at Vinnie, who mirrored her expression. They took note of the rough and rustic surroundings. It was obvious the village had very little extra to pay. After hearing Tomescu tell of the disappearing winter store, she had planned to hunt and forage herself rather than expect to be fed.

  “Ma’am,” Astrid said, “I’ve been wiping my rear with pine needles for three years. I’d fight a whole army for three hot meals and a cot.”

  Popova threw her head back and laughed. “I think we can come to some kind of agreement. We’re not rich, but we don’t use pine needles… ”

  “May I suggest,” Jordane said, sheepishly. “I don’t mean to insult you, ah, Astrid… but you are in desperate need of new clothes.”

  Astrid gave an awkward chuckle. “That’s the truth. Three years in the wilderness, and only my boots survived.”

  She hitched up her self-made ram’s hide britches and displayed the leather boots that had served her for eight seasons, including three in the wilderness..

  “If you call that survival,” Vinnie said, taking in the patched leather.

  “No frostbite,” Astrid said defensively. “They still keep my feet dry.”

  “We can scare up some leather and wool cloth,” Jordane said. “I will talk to our crafters. They would only be too happy.”

  “If you’ve been in the wilderness,” Popova said. “I invite you to stay with me tonight. I will run you a warm bath.”

  Astrid shifted on her feet, lowered her chin toward her right armpit and sniffed. “Ah, it’s been awhile since I had a warm bath. How can I say ‘no’ to that.”

  “Can I sleep in your workshop?” Vinnie beamed.

  “You haven’t even seen it yet!” Jordane exclaimed. Amusement was the first hint of emotion he had displayed.

  “No matter. I can tell you are a person with a fantastic workshop!” Vinnie said, and roped his arm around the skinny man’s shoulders before walking off. The two began discussing technical things that went straight over Astrid’s head.

  “Where did you find that one?” Popova asked as she turned toward her hut with Astrid in tow.

  Astrid saw Jordane break off from Vinnie for a moment and speak to a young girl. The girl nodded her head vigorously and ran off.

  “He found me,” Astrid replied. “And not a moment too soon. He’s a good sort.”

  “No doubt,” Popova said.

  The Elder reached her house and pushed open the door. Inside, it smelled like lavender and boiling vegetables. The Elder moved quickly to the fireplace where an iron pot hung above red coals. She filled a wooden bowl and brought it to Astrid with a wooden spoon.

  “Oh, no, I… ” Astrid stammered.

  “Learn to say ‘yes,’ more often, my dear,” the Elder scolded. “Have you forgotten how to sit at a table?” She placed the bowl and spoon on the rough wooden planks supported by uncut logs and put her fists onto her hips.

  Astrid gave a tight grin and felt her eyes go misty as she remembered her Nana feeding her brothers and sisters after hard training. She looked around, first at the chair, then to her leather pack and rope. It was hard to let go of her gear.

  “Just drop that on the floor, Astrid. You can find a place for it later.”

  With great reluctance, Astrid did just that. The gear helped her survive for so long, it felt like part of her, especially the rope. When she was forced into exile, Kostoff had given her a choice of eight items to take with her. It was his way of taunting her, but in the end, it saved her life. That move let her survive. That would be Kostoff’s fatal flaw.

  If it took decades, she would make that right.

  “Where did you go just now?” Popova’s gentle voice came at her shoulder.

  “Far away over time and mountains,” Astrid said, making brief eye contact.

  “Well, you are here now,” Popova said, sitting down with a small loaf of hard, rye bread.

  She broke the bread in two and handed half to Astrid, who dropped it in the stew immediately. Astrid let out a sigh of content at the smell, and a soft moan came moments later as she took a bite of sopping bread.

  “You have been in the woods far too long, if stale bread delights you so much,” Popova said, gnawing on her half.

  Astrid could only smile through a mouth full of food.

  The door opened suddenly and Astrid didn’t jump. That’s how she knew she was at home. The sound was friendly. The girl who spoke to Jordane before now labored behind a wheelbarrow with a large barrel in it.

  A boy about the same age joined her once they got the barrel into the house. Popova jumped up from the table while Astrid ate. The kids followed her up a short, steep flight of stairs to what must have been the smallest attic in the world. They forced a copper bathing tub back down the stairs.

  “Oh, no,” Astrid said, wondering how she had even fit in that thing.

  “What did I say about you and the word ‘yes?’” Popova said, taking liberties with her advanced age to force Astrid into something good for her.

  One of the kids fetched a pump from a cabinet, and the boy popped open a cork on the barrel. They’ve done this before, Astrid thought. She wished she would have slowed down with her meal. She had no more excuses.

  The three dragged the tub over to the barrel, and the girl started pumping. The tub was half-full i
n just a minute or two.

  “Off you go, children,” Popova said. “You do good work.”

  The two kids waved and took off. The boy shot Astrid a not-so-secret glance before he left.

  Astrid sighed. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

  She stood and pulled off her ram’s hide shirt and then the tattered wool tunic beneath.

  It was Popova’s turn to display awkwardness as Astrid removed the rest of her clothes.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Astrid said. “Am I being rude?”

  “Not exactly,” Popova said, unable to keep her eyes from taking in Astrid’s well-developed arms—strong from years of training and living on her own—and her taut belly. “My people are just a bit more… ”

  “Modest?” Astrid helped.

  “I guess you could say that. Shy, maybe?”

  “I get it,” Astrid said, then stepped into the tub. She slid down until her knees squished her breasts and the water reached her muscular shoulders..

  “I’ve also never seen a woman built like you,” Popova said, almost apologetically. She recovered, “I mean that… in a good way… ”

  Astrid laughed. “I think you mean just about everything in a good way, Elder Popova,” Astrid smiled.

  “When you’re done… ” Popova said, placing a chamois and a robe on a chair.

  She brought over a bar of lye soap and a washcloth. The water turned murky quickly as Astrid scrubbed.

  “The robe belonged to my husband,” Popova said. “And it might be a bit small for you. Maybe I can find something more suitable… ”

  “I’ll just wear what I had on,” Astrid said casually.

  Popova glared at her. “You have the sensibilities of a farm hand,” she said. “A woman should have decent clothes, especially a warrior woman with a figure like yours.” She paused. “Especially a woman like you.”

  Before she could object, Popova left the little house with Astrid’s filthy clothes.

  “I could get used to this,” Astrid said to herself and the tub.

  Another, silent voice in her head replied, But you shouldn’t.

  5

  Argan Village, Later In The Afternoon

  Popova left Astrid alone in the little house to bathe. When the water grew cold, and Astrid felt she had scrubbed enough to erase three years of grime, she rose, dried off, and put on the robe.

  She felt instantly ridiculous. There was no room in the shoulders, telling her that if she reached out for something, the cloth would tear. The hem came down to just below her knees.

  “This isn’t a robe on me,” she complained bitterly to the walls. “This is a dress.” Astrid did not wear dresses.

  She half-dried her hair, taxing the chamois for all it was worth. All the while, she hoped more suitable clothes would come, or she would be stuck in the house. She would rather walk around nude than wear this thing in public.

  She turned to Popova walking in and stopping short. “Oh… that’s terrible…”

  Astrid laughed and replied, “I’m glad you said it. I mean, I’m grateful for the clothes and especially the bath but… ”

  “I didn’t mean to do that to you,” Popova snickered.

  “I talked to our stitchers—a very nice couple. They make most of our work clothes, but most families make their own. Anyway, they—” Shouting interrupted Popova mid-sentence. Her brows creased as she looked toward the door, listening.

  “What is it?” Astrid asked.

  “Wait here,” Popova said and bolted back outside.

  Astrid cursed mightily as she did the best she could putting on her boots, donning her pack, and slinging her trusty rope over her shoulders. Eventually, she would need a better weapon, but she had done pretty well with the rope so far. She patted the coils as if they were a pet.

  Popova showed back up just as Astrid was about to go outside, donning silly attire or not. Astrid knew whatever was happening was serious. As dumb as she looked with damp hair while wearing a man’s worn-out nightgown, Popova still managed to look at her with a straight face.

  She was deadly serious.

  “It’s the compliance officers,” the Elder said.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  She shook her head. It didn’t matter. The fear in the old woman’s eyes told her all she needed to know.

  “Clearly, we’re not ready for trouble.” Astrid gestured at her get-up. By ‘we,’ she meant her and Vinnie.

  “The root cellar.” Popova grabbed her arm and pulled her to a small back room that served as a pantry that in its current state, was bare. Astrid got to the rough-plank door first and pulled it up.

  “If they hurt anyone, I’m coming out,” Astrid said.

  “It won’t come to that,” Popova whispered.

  The plank door closed and left her in darkness. A few minutes later, the ground began to tremble. Dust danced on the hard-packed floor, illuminated by shafts of light coming through the rough plank door. Astrid smiled and looked around, trying to guess which wall he would come through.

  A mud-brick crumbled behind her, and a chubby hand reached through. Astrid grabbed it and pulled. The mud bricks fell away as Vinnie stepped through. Had she grabbed brick? It was hard to tell in the dark. She had little time to dial in her night vision.

  “Oh, look,” she smiled. “It’s the mole man.”

  He revealed himself by the strange ball of white light glowing in his opposite palm.

  Vinnie returned the smile and looked her up and down. “The fashion sense in this town is… rather unusual.” She glared at him, and he recovered. “But you carry it like the Princess of the Ball.”

  “I’m no damn princess,” Astrid growled. “But nice save. What’s the plan?”

  “I have enough energy to tunnel into the forest. Tomescu told me a place to meet.” With that, Vinnie turned and ran…forward?

  Underground, Astrid had no idea how Vinnie chose his directions, but choose them he did. He turned left and then right to avoid thick tree roots. “We don’t want to kill any trees now, do we?”

  Then he tunneled down and left to avoid a vein of granite. “I wish I had the energy to go through that,” he quipped.

  After a few minutes, his tunnel angled upward and they climbed out of the hole. Astrid watched in amazement as Vinnie waved his hands above the hole, and the ground covered itself back up.

  With shaking hands, Vinnie removed his bag and tore into it. He cursed as he threw two empty wine skins on the ground. “Where is it,” he growled, voice desperate. More items flew around until he found a large, black bottle. “My last one!”

  Vinnie bit the cork off with his teeth and drank the mead in great gulps until his eyes teared and his hands stopped shaking. Then, he drew out the cooked leg of some kind of large bird. It was covered in lint and leaves, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

  “I’m feeling so much better now,” Vinnie said with a mouth full of gray meat.

  “Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” Astrid asked.

  “It’s smoked,” he shrugged, taking another bite. “Should be OK. I think.”

  Tomescu stood there the whole time just staring on with a slack jaw and unblinking eyes.

  “What’s the matter, son?” Vinnie asked. “Have you never seen a four-hundred-fifty-pound man burrow through the earth, then drink a quart of mead?” He belched for emphasis.

  Astrid slapped him hard on the shoulder. Then she gaped in surprise herself. His flesh was hard as rock, somehow maybe harder. She pulled back her painful hand.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Best not to touch me for a while after I displace mass like that. Can be a bit dangerous. Should have warned you.”

  “OK… ” Astrid said, smiling in spite of the magic that should have terrified her. She had never seen nor heard of anything like it.

  Vinnie busied himself stuffing items back in his bag. He pulled out some dried fruit and devoured it along the way.

  “That was… ” Tomescu said. “Amazing an
d kind of scary.”

  “That’s magic,” Vinnie replied. “Described perfectly.”

  “But what’s going on with the village?” Astrid asked.

  “Compliance officers. They’re looking for you. They say you robbed the tribute shipment from Pleth.” With that, the boy looked at her with questioning eyes.

  “I’m not a thief,” she grumbled. “Pleth is a liar. I left a note saying I’d pay my toll. I only fought off an unjust arrest.”

  “Justice works differently here,” Tomescu said.

  “Then it’s not justice,” Astrid shot back hotly. The boy shrank back. “I’m sorry, Tomescu. I get upset at things like this, in spite of my training.”

  “A passionate woman,” Vinnie said, crunching bird bone between his teeth. He tossed the last scrap of… whatever it was into the woods. “You get better all the time.”

  She gave him a wink and blew him a kiss. He covered his heart with his hand and pretended to swoon.

  “It’s Compliance Officer Jank,” Tomescu said. “He’s a bastard. He’s demanding room and board in the village for his men.”

  “How many men?” Astrid asked.

  “I counted at least a dozen, but it’s probably more like fifteen? I ran to meet you before I could get close enough to hear.”

  “Why the odd number?” Astrid asked.

  “It varies, depending on what Jank means to do. It looks like he means to comb through the forest looking for you, starting with the village.”

  “Weapons?” Vinnie asked.

  “Clubs, crossbows, daggers,” Tomescu answered.

  “How many of each?” Astrid asked.

  “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t count,” Tomescu said.

  “It’s OK,” Astrid said to the boy. “You’re doing great. About how many crossbowmen usually come?”

  “I saw at least two, but for something like this… he probably has something closer to ten,” Tomescu replied, his eyes darting back and forth between the two strangers. “Compliance officers sometimes contract guards from the local keeps to do their dirty work. Jank has his own company, though—one of the biggest…and the meanest.”