He let some compassion enter his voice. “Felyan, we weren’t properly introduced. I am Sir Edge.”
“What are you doing to me?” she asked. Her voice was dull, but through the emotions he pulled from her, Edge knew that she was shocked by the sudden effects of his magic.
“Your emotions were clouding your mind,” he told her. “I’m allowing you to think clearly.”
Felyan let out a slow breath and Edge could tell that the sword was now pulling away new types of feelings. She was glad for the relief from the pain of her bruised and bound body, but more important was enjoying sensation of emptiness that the sword’s power left within her. This was a person whose mind hadn’t been at peace in a long time.
“I won’t tell you anything,” she said automatically.
“I’m hoping that’s not true,” he told her. “I know you have reasons to hate us, but I also think you understand that your sister’s death wasn’t our fault. She attacked and we acted in self-defense. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that it had to end that way.”
She looked to Deathclaw. The raptoid stood at her feet and stared at her with assessing eyes, his scaled arms folded. He didn’t look sorry.
The sword sucked away the bitterness and rage that wanted to well within her. She would have rejected the truth and focused on her compulsion for vengeance, but Felyan was left with only logic to rule her thoughts. There was no escaping the truth of Edge’s words.
She returned her gaze to him. “You are still the enemy,” she said.
“I don’t think we are,” Edge replied. “Not really. Tell me something, Felyan. Where did you get the elf side of your blood? Your sister was human.”
With her emotions pulled away she could think of no reason to withhold this particular bit of information. “We shared a mother.”
“Are you the oldest? What happened with your father?” Edge asked.
Felyan didn’t understand why he was following this line of questioning. What was he hoping to gain? She kept her mouth shut.
When he sensed her unwillingness to continue talking, he gave her a disappointed look. “You don’t wish to answer? I could let go. Are you sure you want me to return that pain to you already? These are the easy questions.”
She hesitated for a moment, but responded. “Yes, I am the oldest. In her youth, my mother became lost in the forest and spent some time with the Pruball elves,” she said. “They made her leave when they saw that my father had grown fond of her. They didn’t know that she was pregnant when they sent her away.”
“I see.” The Pruball elves were a large and influential sect. Their homeland was in the foothills of the Trafalgan Mountains on the Khalpany side. They did trade with other races but only rarely let humans stay within their borders. “So you are from Khalpany?”
“Why are you asking me about these things?” she asked. “What do you have to gain?”
“That’s a good question,” said the Bash Brothers. The looks on their faces were a mixture of confusion and boredom.
“You do not have to listen,” Deathclaw told them.
They looked at each other and shrugged, but didn’t move away.
Edge smiled at her and replied honestly. “I’m trying to get to know you so that I can have a better idea of what questions to ask next.”
She blinked. “Yes, I’m from Khalpany.”
“And how much older are you than Lana?” he asked.
“Ten years,” she said. “Mother moved from village to village when I was small, but then she met my stepfather and Lana was born.”
“I never had a brother or sister,” Edge said. “You two must have been close.”
Felyan was caught off-guard by the compassion in his eyes. “We were. Our mother died when Lana was young and our step father was taken by slavers. All we had was each other. We learned to take care of ourselves.”
“And you felt responsibility for her?” he pressed.
“Of course, I did. I spent my life watching over her,” she said. Her eyes fell back on Deathclaw and Edge felt that she was trying to dredge that anger back up. The sword didn’t let her feel it.
Edge squeezed his hand tighter on her arm. “Then why is it that she was named by the Dark Bowl and you are not?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “It isn’t possible.”
Edge could tell that her statement wasn’t completely true. There was a mix of frustration and disappointment being pulled away by the sword. She hadn’t known for sure but she had at least suspected.
“There must have been some period of time when you weren’t together,” he suggested. “She was gone for a while and when she came back, she was different. More secretive. More skilled.” He felt her emotions confirm his theory. “That’s what happens when people go to the Dark Bowl. It forces skill into them and gives them new memories. The voices of ancient servants of the Dark Prophet become part of their minds.”
She took several moments to digest that information. “Despite what you say, she was still my sister.”
“Only now she had sudden access to a whole new group of friends?” he suggested. “People with more unsavory jobs? Or were you always assassins for hire?”
“In Khalpany you do what you have to do to make a living,” she said, but Edge knew his words were sinking in. She was starting to have doubts. He chose to let that particular emotion stay in her mind.
“Do you know why my friends and I are out on this road?” he asked. “My wife is missing. One of the Dark Prophet’s servants deceived her and took her this way. We’re trying to track them down.”
Felyan had no response for this.
“I think that servant hired you to attack us to keep us from catching up to him,” Edge said. “Am I right?”
The sword sucked away her reluctance, leaving only doubt. Still, he could tell she wasn’t telling the complete truth. “I don’t know all the details. All I know is that Vern set it up. We work with him a lot and he told Lana he had an easy job. She was to go out on the river and take out as many of you as possible before the ferry reached the shore.” Her eyes shifted to Lenny. “Starting with that dwarf. But the main thing was that we slow you down. Actually, killing you was just one way to dissuade you.”
“Why go after Lenny first?” Edge asked.
Felyan shrugged as much as she could while lying with her arms bound. “Vern hated him. Called it a bonus kill. He gave Lana a special arrow to do it with.” Her doubts increased, and Edge let her feel the regret that came along with it. “I would have gone out on the water with her, but she was the one with range. I just waited with Vern at the shore and watched.”
“You never met the man that hired Vern?” he pressed.
“No,” she said. “Vern went to meet him without us. He just returned to us with bags of gold and gave us the job.”
“I got a question,” said Lenny, his eyes tight with disgust. “Has that no-good, dirt-licker Vern also been to the Dark Bowl?”
“How am I supposed to know that?” Felyan said. “I didn’t even know my own sister had been there.”
Edge nodded slowly. He was disappointed that she didn’t have more information on the mysterious thief. “What happened next? After Vern saw that his plan had failed.”
“After my sister’s death, I just wanted all of you dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “But Vern saw that we needed more help, so he contacted the Specialist.”
“The Specialist?” said Lenny.
Evastus spoke up. “That’s what people call Ghazard. He knows how to put together the right group of mercenaries for the right job. He pays real good too. It’s why we worked with him so much. Usually, he just wants us there to bust heads if something goes wrong.”
“Vern had to pay Ghazardblast extra because we needed him to work fast,” she said. “The wizard was able to use those portal bricks to bring in the people he wanted. Only . . . he scampered away before I could get my revenge.”
Edge began to
gain new respect for the wizard that had fled the scene. In only a few short hours after they had arrived on the Razbeck side of the river, he had somehow put together a crew specifically designed to fight their party. If his plan with the paralyzing orb had worked, they might have all been killed.
“And how do you feel about things now?” Edge asked her. “If I was to free you, would you still attack us?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t know how you’re doing this to me, but the minute you let me feel my emotions again I am going to want to kill that scaly fiend. I don’t care about the rest of you and I’ll probably never work with Vern again.” She gestured at Deathclaw with her chin. “But that thing is dead.”
Edge nodded and sent a message to Fist through the bond. The ogre gagged her with air again, but this time he didn’t clog her ears. Edge let go of her arm and her eyes went wide as her emotions rushed back into her mind. He stood and turned away from her.
“So what do you think we should do with her?” Edge asked his friends.
“You could just cave her skull in and toss her into the trees,” Delvin suggested.
Evastus punched his larger sibling in the arm. “Brother! That’s not how a named warrior acts.”
Unfortunately, the orc was right. While she was in the process of attacking them, Edge would have had no qualms about killing her. But now that she was bound and his prisoner and he had gotten to know her, he couldn’t do it. “We could drop her off at an Academy outpost along the way and have them send her to the Dremald dungeons.”
“Sorry, Son. There’s no outposts along this road that I know of,” said Lenny. He stopped in the road and bent to pick up the spent paralyzing orb. He stowed it in a pouch at his waist. “Closest one to us is out by Coal’s keep, but that’s durn near a full day’s journey from here. We could maybe swing by Castle Razbeck and hand her off to the king. I’m sure he’d imprison her on your word.”
Edge shook his head. “Either of those options requires us to veer too far away from Jhonate’s trail. We can’t afford to lose that much time.”
“If you won’t kill her while she’s a prisoner, free her,” suggested Deathclaw. “Let she and I continue our fight. I will kill her in battle.”
Edge sighed. “I think you have the kernel of a good idea there, Deathclaw,” he said and gestured to Fist. Let her speak and when I signal you, remove her bindings. The ogre once again removed the gag of air and Edge pulled her roughly to her feet. “Alright, Felyan. I can’t take any more time with you. It’s time to decide. What are you going to do if I let you go?”
“I already told you,” she said, her teeth bared. She glared at Deathclaw with open hatred. “It doesn’t matter that we were in the wrong. I’ll never be able to forget that thing attacking my sister. I like its suggestion. Let me loose and I’ll settle this with it right now. You can do whatever you want with me after I kill it. With Lana gone I have nothing left to live for.”
Edge nodded slowly. “You’re wrong, Felyan, but I see that you can’t believe that right now. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to have the two of you fight at the moment. What I care about right now is finding my wife. I’ll need Deathclaw’s help to do that.”
Deathclaw hissed and was about to protest, but Edge sent him a message through the bond asking him to hold back.
“You have two options,” Edge told the half-elf. “The most efficient one is the option Delvin gave me. It’s true that I won’t kill you in cold blood myself, but if you won’t cooperate, I’ll let Deathclaw drag you out into the woods and do it.”
The raptoid gave her a grim hiss.
“And your second option?” she said, her eyes never leaving Deathclaw’s.
“The second option is that I set you loose and you promise to leave us alone to complete our task,” Edge told her. “I know you’ll still want your revenge, but you’ll have to wait until after I have my wife back.”
“I prefer this idea,” Deathclaw said. “I can always kill you in honest battle at a later date.”
She glowered. “Fine.”
Edge gripped her arm, making sure his rune was touching her skin. “I’ll be able to tell if you lie to me. Do you swear to leave us for now?”
Felyan turned her gaze onto him. “I’ll give you a month to find your wife, but I will come for him after that.”
Edge could feel her sincerity. “Okay, Fist. Let her go.”
The magic bindings fell away, and Edge waited until she was steady on her feet before he let go. She turned on her heels and picked up the weapons she had dropped when Fist had bound her. Then she stood still as if about to say something else. Shaking her bald head, she strode away.
Lenny stepped up next to Edge and put a hand on his shoulder. “You sure this was the right thing to do?”
Edge watched her disappear into the trees. “No,” he said, already doubting his decision. “I just hope that over time she’ll come to terms with her sorrow and understand that seeking revenge won’t help anything.”
“I think she’ll show back up more dangerous than before,” Deathclaw said. He smiled. “I will be ready.”
Chapter Twenty
Sar Zahara – Wildlands
“Camel hump?” asked a shriveled man with very few teeth. He was gesturing at the largest cut of meat on his table. It looked like a huge lump of fat and meat, sitting on severed bits of spine and ribcage. He seemed quite proud to have it for sale.
The man wore the plain gray garb of a western pilgrim and the wide-brimmed hat on his head had a blue band across it to identify him as a merchant. He stood behind a table just inside his tent, where a number of different cuts of meat were laid out for sale. His sleeves were rolled back, and he wore a long blood-stained apron.
Jhonate had first seen camels several years back while traveling with Edge to Alberri. She had been curious about the nature of the large humps on the beast’s backs, but this was the first time she had seen one offered as food. She wondered how it would taste but had no need for a cut so large.
“No,” she said and pointed past the man to the floor of the butcher’s tent where a canvas tarp had been laid out. Many different cuts of meat were on display including some decent-sized roasts. “Is that all camel meat?”
“Oh yes. All from the same beast,” the man assured her. “It was a young camel. The meat is very tender and very fresh.”
She believed that the meat was fresh, but she had doubts about the camel being young. In this part of the world, camels were usually too useful to slaughter unless there was something wrong with them. This animal was likely either very old or injured and in need of being put down. She had a feeling that most of the cuts would be tough and take a lot of cooking before they were edible.
Jhonate pointed to a fatty roast. “I shall take that one.”
“Very good choice, madam! Four copper pieces.” The butcher picked up the meat she had pointed to and set it onto the table next to the hump. “Are you taking this to cook for your husband?”
Her upper lip curled unconsciously at both the high price and the man’s assumption. She pulled out the coins and let them clatter onto the table in front of her. “No.”
“Travel companions, then?” he asked as he wrapped the meat in a bit of waxed paper.
“Yes,” she said, though even admitting that made her tongue feel leaden in her mouth.
Nodding and grinning, the man tied the package with twine and left a long loop for her to carry it with. “Do you need spices? My friend Laseer is just two tents down. In my most humble opinion, camel is best flavored with turmeric and coriander.”
She stuck the tip of her staff through the loop of twine and lifted the package off of the table. “I shall keep that in mind. Good day to you.”
Jhonate turned to leave and let the wood of her staff form around the string to hold it in place, then rested the staff over her shoulder as she walked into the narrow street. She was wearing a gray pilgrim’s robe over the top of her leather breastplate
and a hooded gray cloak covered her braided hair. The disguise was useful for more than just hiding her identity. It also helped to keep her cool in this place. The Wildlands were terribly hot all year round.
The area known as the Wildlands was a stretch of unclaimed land north of Razbeck. It reached all the way westward to Corntown and northward to the Whitebridge Desert and beyond, continuing up to the barrier at the outer edge of the Known Lands. The area was rocky and barren, unfit for farming or ranching. It had been long known as a place of refuge for bandits and other undesirables. This made it a perfect place for a pilgrim tent city.
The tent city, known locally as Hoolahan Crossing, had formed at this crossroads nearly five years ago. The size of the city shifted and evolved as pilgrims came and went on their various journeys. At the moment there were a thousand tents spread across a quarter mile of flat scrub-brush laden land.
Jhonate had been surprised by the sheer number of pilgrims she and Nod had passed on the road to this place. The only pilgrims she had seen before meeting Nod had been the ones that came to the Mage School to see the Bowl of Souls, but they were mostly fighters. These people were part of something else, a new religious movement.
The Pilgrimage Movement had begun in Khalpany years ago and had spread across the Known Lands as people travelled from holy site to holy site. The way Nod explained it, there was no central dogma that was part of the movement. They didn’t seem to be worshippers of the Creator or the Prophet. Each individual had their own reasons to undertake a pilgrimage, be it a life they wished to escape, or a curse they wished to break. There was a sense of community among them though. Every pilgrim Nod and Jhonate had met along the way had been kind and willing to share their fire for a night.
The tents that lined the central street of Hoolahan Crossing were large merchant’s affairs, each one with brightly colored entrances and signs proclaiming services. These merchants had spread like leeches among the pilgrims, each one proclaiming to be a devout person, pausing in the middle of a journey of their own.
Jhonate paused at the spice tent that the butcher had recommended and took one look at the trays full of multicolored powders before shaking her head and moving on. She had no idea which spices were the ones the butcher had mentioned and even if she did, she had no idea what quantity to buy or what amount to put on the meat. And she had little desire to draw attention asking foolish questions about it.
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