Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  Woody and George looked at each other, then turned to Astrid. “We’ve been saying the Protectors have to go for decades. Nobody listens to us, even after our ancestors got kicked out of their homes because they couldn’t grow enough fucking turnips to satisfy some fucking bean counters.”

  “That’s because we stopped them in the process. We have Bluefield. We have Blue Creek. They are still standing. We also have the books. And when we take Keep 52, we’ll have records of their deeds. We’ll show those records to the village Elders. We’ll make them see.”

  “Just make sure they don’t kill my Grandmother,” Woody said. “How about that.”

  “Can you kill Gerty the Grinder?” George quipped.

  Woody whirled on him, fists balled up. George backed off and held up his hands. “Easy, buddy…” he said.

  “Sorry,” Woody said, smiling to Astrid’s great relief. “She’d kill us both if she knew I let you say that. She always hated that name.”

  Astrid was curious. “What’s the story there?”

  “It’s a long one,” Woody replied. “She kind of runs the place—as much as anyone can run a bandit hideout. She did twenty years hard labor for a heist and raised six kids, including my mother, all while pulling capers and keeping the caves hidden.”

  “Sounds like a woman I want to meet,” Astrid laughed.

  “Careful what you wish for,” Woody said. “She just turned seventy, and she still bow hunts deer. Alone.”

  Astrid nodded in appreciation. “OK, she sounds perfect. But let’s do step one and re-evaluate. First, roust a fresh scout and send him to the caves. We’ll send a few fighters to guard the caves while they prepare to move out.”

  “You better have a good second part,” Woody said. “I’ll get this moving.”

  “The most important thing right now,” Astrid said, “is to keep everyone calm. They can’t win if we don’t play into their fear tactic.”

  “Too fucking late,” Woody said.

  “Tell me that. Nobody else. Keep them calm and we will win. I promise you that.”

  George stayed a moment while Woody went to find a fresh scout. “I need to send word to my people that they will have guests. It might not go well.”

  “We have plenty of extra food to send with them,” Vinnie said. “I’ll make that happen.”

  “Hold off on that,” Astrid said. “I’m heading to the caves at dawn.”

  “Which is—” George looked up at the moon “—less than four hours away.”

  “I’ll be meditating,” Astrid said.

  She found a good spot under a massive pine and sat cross-legged until the rising sun warmed her face. Familiar footsteps approached.

  “I felt you thinking about me,” Gormer said, squatting down.

  Astrid looked at him. “How do you feel?”

  “Like warm dogshit that wants his opium. If Moxy’s tea doesn’t work, I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Astrid said. “You’ve been trying to make my life hell since we met. You’re terrible at it.”

  She stood up and beamed at him like the sun itself.

  “I fucking hate chipper people, especially in the morning.” He turned and spat.

  Astrid draped her arm over his shoulders and pulled him in as she led him back to camp. “Come on, asshole,” she said. “Let’s see if Moxy has more tea for you.”

  She did. “Drink this and shut up,” Moxy said. “I’m not in the mood.”

  She handed him the earthenware mug and hurried over to Tarkon. The two spoke for a moment, then walked out into the woods.

  “They’re on recon?” Astrid asked.

  “They’re an item,” Gormer said as he sipped with his eyes closed.

  Astrid laughed. “That’s funny.”

  “No, seriously. They go out on recon, but haven’t you seen the way she looks at him? Lucky fucker.”

  “No,” Astrid said. “Really? No… ”

  “You’re talking to a fucking psychic,” he said.

  “Did you…”

  “No,” Gormer said. “Trickier getting into people’s heads than you think. But I do pick stuff up. More now, since this damn tea. It’s not so nice.”

  “The more discipline you acquire the easier that will be,” Astrid said.

  “Oh, that’s nice, wise one,” Gormer said. “Cheers and go fuck yourself.” He walked away to a second smokeless fire pit where some bandits were preparing food for the early risers.

  Astrid laughed and shook her head. “Keep trying,” she called after him. “The dying tiger roars loudest.”

  He flipped her off without looking back.

  “You take that mouth from him?” George asked.

  “Nothing but a little boy lashing out in pain,” she said. “Seen it a thousand times.”

  “He needs his ass kicked,” George growled. “Talking to you that way…”

  “I can handle myself, thanks,” Astrid said with a smile.

  “I mean… I just…” George stammered.

  “Where’s Woody?” Astrid inquired.

  George turned away gratefully, and they headed over to Woody, who was just getting out of his hammock.

  “Hungry,” he rumbled as he rubbed his face. He emptied some water from a skin into a bowl and carried it over to the long table. Astrid and George followed. “God damn it,” Woody growled. “Am I a fucking mother duck or what? Let me fucking wake up!”

  “Sorry,” Astrid said. “I want to head to the caves to meet this… Gerty?”

  “Gertrude,” Woody said. “Call her Gertrude. If you act too familiar, she’ll shut you right down.”

  “We’ll ride out right after we eat,” Astrid said.

  He shook his head. “Fuck that. We eat while we ride. I have a feeling she might need some convincing to pack everyone up and go.”

  They got two fresh horses from the stables and geared up for a hard ride to the highlands. Astrid found Gormer before she left.

  She told him, “You’re going on recon tonight. I need you to be ready.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and moved in close. “I need information. Without it, people are going to die. Not just fighters, but defenseless people. Do you understand?”

  The defiance and anger left his face for just a moment. He nodded. Astrid turned away and got on her horse.

  24

  Gerty the Grinder at the Caves

  The ride through the mountains was as hard on the horses as it was on Astrid. They picked their way over steep, rocky inclines and crossed a low range before they reached anything strongly resembling a trail.

  “You are well-hidden up here,” Astrid observed as they neared some jagged peaks.

  It appeared that the signs of passage weren’t as well hidden there. She had to look hard to find broken branches and footprints before this point.

  The path rose up to a low ridge that was reasonably flat as it lead them to a rock face partially obscured by trees. Bandits came out to meet them with axes and crude maces over their shoulders. Some of them carried bows. All of them had hard eyes.

  “What’s this about you wanting us to run away, Woody?” the oldest, largest of the bandits said.

  “Shit,” Woody muttered. “It’s starting already.”

  “But who is this fine slab of woman?” the man asked with a big smile that was short a few teeth.

  “My name is Astrid,” she said with an easy smile. “Who might you be?”

  “Might be someone who wishes he was younger,” the man boomed.

  The other bandits boomed with laughter, even the women among them. Astrid got off her horse and headed over. She extended her hand for the man to shake.

  He squinted at her and shifted his weapon to his left hand. They shook hands and locked eyes for a good long while.

  “So, you are the one we heard about,” the man said. “The one who makes Assessors piss themselves—the woman who wants to be the new Protector.”

  Astrid register
ed shock. “I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

  “Is it right that you put us in danger by drawing us into your fight?” a high, clear voice rang out.

  The bandit man let go of Astrid’s hand and stepped aside. The other bandits made way for a slender old woman in a long, hooded, brown robe that covered her ankles. Her arms were crossed in front and covered by baggy sleeves.

  “This has been coming for a while, so far as I can tell,” Astrid answered her firmly. “I just happened to find it.”

  The woman shed her hood, revealing silver hair pulled back into a tight, short ponytail. Her face was like a topographical map of the mountains themselves. Her eyes, matching the color of her hair, shone like moonlight on water.

  “Now we have to run because of your strategy,” the woman said.

  “If you want to live, yes,” Astrid said.

  At that, the bandits looked offended. The big man brought his mace back to his fighting hand.

  “We can take care of ourselves. We were fine before you came,” Gertrude said.

  “You call living in caves ‘fine?’” Astrid asked.

  At that moment, the bandits looked ready to fight. Astrid stepped forward. “Since I got here, two villages found peace with the woods people. Those who were dispossessed are finding proper homes again.”

  Gertrude spat. “How can you be so arrogant? You say this is not a proper home?” Astrid realized her mistake. Her mind reeled trying to recover.

  “What I’m saying is that you don’t have to hide anymore. I’m not asking anyone to fight unless they want to fight. I take full responsibility for my actions. The bottom line is that your people are in danger here, and I aim to kill that danger. Kill it dead.”

  “Big talk,” the woman said, removing her arms from her sleeves. “Why should I believe you?”

  Astrid saw the outline of some weapon beneath the woman’s robe. She knew what was coming.

  “Try me, old woman,” Astrid said, giving Gertrude the perfect opportunity.

  Astrid didn’t want to smile as her perception of time slowed. Gertrude moved even faster than expected. Astrid was already spinning when the hatchet came out. The rope dart whipped out as Astrid closed the gap.

  Clang! said the dart as it struck the hatchet meant for Astrid’s forehead. She stopped her spin and let the rope wrap around her waist again. She held a section by her side, ready to strike out again.

  “I was wondering why you tied yourself up in that rope,” Gertrude said with a tight smile. “Thought maybe you were trying to hide a gut or something.”

  The bandits laughed uneasily. “I didn’t see where your hatchet went,” Astrid said. “I was more concerned about you trying to kill me again.”

  Gertrude smiled harder. “Come,” she said. “It went into the woods. You can help me find it.”

  “Only if Woody comes along to stand between us,” Astrid said.

  “Smart girl,” Gertrude replied.

  The three formed a group and headed into the trees. The rest of the bandits were already laughing and making a legend out of what they just saw.

  Astrid saw exactly where the hatchet flew and both she and Gertrude knew it. The old woman parted her robe and slipped the little axe in a loop of leather around her belt.

  “You are a troublemaker,” Gertrude said. “The caves are home to our old and our young and those who need to be cared for. We’re not fighters.”

  “Not fighters? Could have fooled me,” Astrid said.

  “Don’t flatter me, girl,” Gertrude growled. “You’ve already made your point.”

  Astrid was humbled again. “I didn’t—”

  “No matter,” Gertrude said. “I’m convinced. We will go along. But know that I’m trusting you not because I want to, but because I have to.”

  Astrid hung her head. “For that, I am truly sorry.”

  “I know,” Gertrude said. “I can see that. So, promise me you know what you are doing, and I will feel better.”

  Astrid locked eyes with the old woman. “I will not fail you, or Woody, or the villages, or anyone I pledge to protect.”

  “You better not,” Gertrude said. As she walked away, she called back. “I’ll do what is necessary. You better head back south. Take care of my grandson. He’s a good man, and I don’t want to lose him.”

  Woody stood blinking back tears. “Did you hear what she said about me?” He seemed to be six inches taller.

  “She happens to be right,” Astrid said as they headed back to the horses.

  The bandits had already slipped away, back to wherever their caves were. It was obvious that Gertrude didn’t want Astrid to know. She knew the general location. That seemed to be too much.

  Keep 52, later that afternoon

  Clarence and Jank stood over the long table studying the mosaic of map pages compiled from meticulous recon missions.

  “My two men were killed here,” Jank said, pointing to the trail where the bodies were found. “They were smart enough to take the map, so we can assume they know we are looking for something.”

  “The question is, whether they’ve figured out we’re looking to take out the bandit’s home, or their base of operations,” Clarence said, pinching his chin.

  “It’s unclear. We’ve chased some bandits who seem like scouts. They’re always on foot, but they somehow get away,” Jank replied.

  “That almost seems like it’s intended,” Clarence replied. “It was all-too-clear that your dead men didn’t see it coming. That leads me to believe that they are far better at hiding than we thought.”

  “We have underestimated the enemy, haven’t we?” Jank said, locking eyes with Clarence.

  “I hate to admit it, but yes,” Clarence said. “That is why I’m going on the raid to find the bandit stronghold,” Clarence replied.

  Just then, the latest scout team appeared with another addition to the map.

  The men stood in rigid postures and addressed Jank and Clarence formally. “Sirs, we have a lead. We followed the trails past where our men were killed the other night. We did find evidence of horses.”

  “Shit?” Clarence said. The man looked surprised. Clarence glared at him. “Did you find horse shit?” Clarence clarified, putting emphasis on every word.

  The man cleared his throat. “No, sir. We found hoofprints on a back trail. It seemed like they covered their tracks.”

  “We know they stop to pick up horse shit,” Jank said. “They leave no traces.”

  “That’s what bothers me. They leave no traces, but suddenly, when we need to find traces, there they are,” Clarence said.

  “So, how do we know if the signs are real or a false clue?” Jank asked.

  “If I may, sir, it seemed like a legitimate mistake. We had to look hard for more tracks further up the trail. It appears that they leave a major trail across the backwoods at random. There is a whole system of trails that aren’t even connected to the main arteries.”

  “Clever,” Jank said.

  “They’ve been doing this for generations,” Clarence said. “It’s been going on too long, and I mean to stop it. That’s our goal here. When we exterminate this vermin, we’ll go after every other bandit camp we can find. We’ll do it quietly and swiftly.”

  The two men nodded their heads and smiled. “I can’t wait,” the first one said. The second agreed heartily.

  “Good men,” Jank said. “They’ll never know what hit them.”

  “I hope their women are pretty,” the second merc said as he left the room.

  “What did he say?” Clarence demanded.

  “Sometimes, the men—” Jank began.

  “He stays behind. This is a mission of extermination, not a brothel tour. I didn’t think your men lacked discipline.”

  “They don’t,” Jank said. “I will see that he is corrected. Discipline is harsh and certain in my ranks, I assure you.”

  “Have him report to me after he is disciplined along with any other men who share his…
predilections. I will have words with them,” Clarence said, adjusting his black leather gloves. He flexed his fingers and the leather creaked ominously.

  “I’ll send them to you in proper condition,” Jank said.

  Back at Argan, Evening

  “Why does it feel like you’re asking for a last meal?” Astrid asked Gormer as they rode the wide trail to Argan side by side.

  “Maybe I am,” Gormer said. “I wanted to see Charlie again, if you gotta know.”

  She smiled. “I don’t have to know, but I’m glad you shared that with me.”

  “Shared that… Don’t get all fucking soppy on me. I didn’t think you were the type,” Gormer said.

  She shook her head and rode faster up the trail, leaving him behind with his snark. She saw through it now. She knew there was no going back for Gormer. She wasn’t about to reward his lashing out with attention. She left him with his waning residual adolescence.

  The ground began to shake as soon as Gormer got off his horse. Charlie barreled toward them and Astrid got out of the way. He scooped up Gormer in his arms and spun around in circles making one of his enchanting, wordless songs.

  Gormer slapped him on the back and laughed. Astrid nearly dropped back on her heels at the sound. The flashes of happiness on his face she had never seen before.

  “OK, OK, you can put me down now!” he shouted as he had trouble breathing. Charlie just let him go, and Gormer ended up on his ass in the dirt. “Aaand, he dropped me…”

  Charlie laughed and picked Gormer up by the armpits, then nearly knocked him down again trying to dust him off.

  Gormer swatted at his hands and laughed harder. “I get it. I’m glad to see you, too. Slow down! I can’t process all those images at once. You love it here. I can see that. Ooh, where is Moxy?”

  “What?” Astrid said.

  “He says that he’s happy I’m better, and Moxy and Vinnie made some medicine for me. He said something about the burning water…”

  “The pepper spray,” Astrid said. She started walking toward the Scribe’s workshop.

  “No way. Fuck that. I’m not going near that shit again,” Gormer said.