"I like the look of the girl--don't you." A short squat man stood his feet wide apart and arms crossed. "I think we need to have a run at that." He eyed Gavin's sword. "How about a wager old man?" He held out a handful of runes worn and greasy as his face.
Gavin relaxed moving his hand away from the sword, "I don't think you carry anything valuable enough against that." Gavin snorted. "Not that she's worth much for your purposes hasn't been out of the nursery and out with the men long enough.
The short man frowned scrunching up his face tight like a pigs. "Really, what a waste, makes her worth less doesn't it? I think we could put enough to match such inexperience." He smiled wide until his eyes folded up into their own flaps.
"More actually, where I am taking her the Shiku's will give common man's wage for ten years ten times over." Gavin smiled his teeth flashing in the flickering light like a wolves.
"One, two," the short man was pointing at his fingers, "three...No one, two..." he looked confused then glared at Gavin, "that's a lot right?"
"More then will flow through your fingers in an entire lifetime." Gavin intoned, "of course to collect you would need the cunning of a wolf, the ferocity of a bear and strength of a dragon. They prefer to cut out the throats of those who visit them and take what they like." He looked down at the man, "you'd likely be buried in sand, covered in honey and sacrificed to ants."
The squat man blanched at this clearly able to follow the last part of the conversation no matter how slow his brain. Gavin reached into his cloak and brought out a small sack letting the coin inside jingle throughout the room. "I've brought better currency in any circumstance." The sight of gold coins clearly mezmerized the crowd. When the inner circle clearly those closest to the fat man were seat they became serious.
Sarah for a moment was uncertain if she should feel insulted at they way they had spoken of her, disappointed that no one appeared interested any longer, or frightened that maybe he was actually telling the truth. She moved closer so she could watch the game as it was played.
There were seven runes: Fire, Sky, Night, Woman, Hero, Wolf, Dragon. Each was cast simultaneously by the players. Everyone it seemed had a place at the table, and there were seven players. Gavin played the dragon. His casts were always higher than every other player his eyes closed and one hand in the air two fingers clenched, the other two skyward. As they fell he dropped his hand, but not with out subtle movements that Sarah barely caught. The rules seemed very complex, two absolutes stood out to her. The first was that to have every player on the table cast your rune was good. The second was to have your rune turn up absent eliminated you from the round. If you cast your own rune up you could use your combination almost as a tool against another player, and possibly eliminate him. Every round it seemed brought up a question on the rules, one player said you could do this, another said it had to be done a certain way. Either they rolled around on the floor fighting while everyone else drank, smoked, or it was put to a vote and the matter was decided, argued about and quickly forgotten.
Money shifted around the table like a ball inside a bowl whichever way the wind turned a large amount of cash rolled their way. Usually it was all lost quickly. No one it seemed was allowed to leave the table with money. That all went to the winner of the final round who having eliminated the reserves of the entire table was left standing. Sarah watched the rune throwing with some interest. No one had ever gambled around her before.
One, by one they left the table...Night, Hero, Fire, Sky. Only the Woman, the Wolf, and Gavin the Dragon remained. Gavin paused as he gathered up his runes. The Short squat man laid a hand on his arm. "What say you we raise the stakes?" He nodded towards where Sarah sat. She became aware quickly of if not everyones eyes their interest laying on her.
"What do you have that you intend to offer?" The short man snapped his fingers and held out his hand. Someone in the crowd slipped him a shimmering sack lined with bright silver and rubies. Inside an object brimming with power lay just beyond the light cloth. Sarah stared transfixed. It was as if she could see through the sack and past the hard outer covering. Something inside was alive. Sarah gripped the chair tighter and glanced nervously from Gavin's chiseled glare to the squat man's smug and confident smirk.
"No, I think not." Gavin rubbed his three runes together. "throw." He tossed high his runes and watched them come tumbling down with a bang and a flourish. "Dragon, Woman," Gavin crowed. The squat man was late to the throw his rolled and spun on the table as the other man called out, "Woman alone." Two runes showed blank. The final rune upright showed Wolf. Gavin took his woman rune and slid it towards the squat man, "Woman chokes the wolf--you're done." The squat man cursed. he fumed for a moment then brought the sack back out. What if I were to wager this as buy--in. Gavin looked from the sack back to the man cheery around the eyes but his hand shook with the rage within him. Sarah cursed him with her eyes. "Let's see whats in there."
The Wolf set the bag on the table and turned it upside down letting the contents slide slowly to the table. A rock dark blue with shimmering patterns of forking light crossed over the surface. Sarah felt drawn to it at once, but as she leaned forward something seemed to the push her back and she drew back hidden and forgotten once more.
"Now, shall we?" His face drew twisted with a grin and his body seemed far more reanimated. They cast once more. "Wolf, Dragon, Woman," Gavin announced. "Wolf, Woman," the squat man replied. "Blanks." A pair of you shall produce no future. The squat man slid his woman towards Gavin. He took his share as well as the Woman's share. "Wolf and Dragon." He announced. It would now end very shortly for either player to draw a blank on his rune would not be difficult and victory would be sealed. The both cast Gavin high the squat man low. The squat drew blanks. Gavin's Wolf turned up, his Dragon tumbled down last spinning on one edge then hoping quickly to the other. Down meant defeat, up was a recast. Gavin's hand seemed to quiver with effort as they watched the piece wobble on its side. The squat man's eyes came up and met Gavin's. The piece fell down. Gavin stared across the table his face unreadable, but his eyes. Sarah could always read eyes. Gavin bowed, stood and walked to the stairs. Sarah slipped after him trying to avoid the crowd on the way.
Sarah frowned when she entered the room hesitating by the doorway. "There is only one bed." Wrapped in the corner and clearly made of the softest down feathers it seemed to call her name with promised lush embraces.
"I'll keep watch, I'll have need of very little in the way of rest." Gavin jumped up into the window ledge and shutting it tightly folded up into a sitting position his hands together. Sarah regarded him for a minute and then closing door behind her dragged the mattress to the far side of the room and let it unravel. It was the first bed of any comfort she had slept in for many years. She had chosen a much harder mattress of matted straw at the castle. The feathers seemed to embrace her body like a lovers arms and sleep called her name while curving a seductive finger deep within her mind.
In the darkness a light emerged, but it was blood red and seemed to cloud everything that she could see. A fox appeared dark brown, crafty and hungry, it ran at her and she scurried away from the spot where her eggs were laid. A hand reached out and she went to it beak open hungry and tired. The hand reached forward but as it did so it turned black and out into ashes. While she pranced around the ashes the fox came from behind to her eggs. Sarah awoke with a snap. Daylight had already come and scattered clouds could not fend back the gathering warmth and light. Sarah jumped upright and scrambled to her feet. He had cracked the window and left while she slept. Dashing towards the door Sarah stopped at the silver water basin by the door. Plunging her hands into the cold water she slapped it across her face. Very much awake she glanced into the basin and stopped. For a moment she thought there was some kind of image on the bottom of the basin, but found to her surprise that it was her own reflection. Dirty matted hair clotted with leaves and sticks stuck out angrily in every direction. She glared at herself and found the smudges which surround her eyes wrinkled and cracked. She splashed her face once more trying to rub away the mire which clung stubbornly. It seemed to smear it around and leave dark blotching stains. The hair was no better.
"Come down to breakfast, we'll make you female again later." Sarah jumped to find Gavin standing in the doorway watching her unsuccessful attempts. With a sigh at her appearance and a silent glare at him she followed. Down in the common room the excitement and revelry of last night appeared to have profited most of the participants in drunken hangovers and empty pockets. Stepping over a pair of drunks parked in the doorway they made their way to a table. This mornings breakfast was glop. It was a gooey sickening mixture created from oats, goats milk, and flavored heavily in Paragi a local spice. The innkeeper explained it was a local delicacy with swiftly shifting fingers and the laughter of everyone nearby who heard his description. It's proper name was gechi-ru he grew red when Sarah asked what they really called it. Several voices quickly filled her in--glop. Sarah wasn't sure she wanted to call it anything.
"Why are we here?" Sarah asked stirring her glop around in a circle considering eating it.
Gavin grunted, "place to rest for a night." He frowned at her turning spoon, "eat...it's better hot than cold."
She giggled, "not saying much though is it?" she took a bite completely uncertain what to think of the tangy aftertaste of Paragi. "You don't like people, or villages, and you hate inns so why here today?"
Gavin laughed, "you think you have me figured out do you?" He arched a brow at her, "you may find many things about me in the future, but you cannot know me as well as you seem to think."
Sarah shook her head, "you have many secrets and a brain that is dark and murky," she pointed her spoon at him the glob hanging down off the spoon in a yellow string which bobbed and stretched as she shook it. "But you came here for something besides a bed, which you didn't sleep in, or food which you don't like any better than I do." She tapped the spoon to her bowl the gooey mess catching the edge and dragging the spoon down faster, "you have eaten all yours though haven't you?"
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
The Inn and its Spider
Morning light brought a dim fog which trailed along the ground and curled itself around their ankles and dissipated along their bodies. It was still dark when Gavin roused her from slumber and her hands and face were cold and wet. She woke without complaint and joined him in the cold breakfast of dried cut meat. She didn't know what it was, and thought better of asking.
Gavin took up the path without a word leaving only the stamped out ashes of the fire and the memory of the place. Their path led quickly to the west hindered by thick forest stands, rushing riverbeds, and villages. Gavin would not enter some villages. They passed three of them in a fortnight, and he knelt to the ground at each worn path running his fingers through the dirt and muttering to himself in a tongue Sarah could not understand. It annoyed Sarah immensely each time he stood shaking his head and moved on. Once she snorted angrily at him and strode down the direction of the path.
"You will not find me again in the wilderness." Gavin did not look back only kept on walking the same measured pace he had always maintained. Sarah stood fuming looking between him and sight of promised warmth and light with the curling smoke rising above the trees. With a sigh Sarah turned away and followed him back into the wilderness. They never wanted for food, and certainly never for shelter or warmth. On the warmest of days they walked among the cool of the trees with soft sunlight trickling down overhead. On cold days they found refuge on the forgotten paths in the mire where warm air filtered up through the bog and pushed back the bitterness of the autumn. Everywhere Sarah looked summer was fading away and the dying colors of the autumn were descending on the land. Bright reds, golds, and dark crumpled brown leaves drifted soundlessly from their perches and stirred themselves unbidden at their feet.
"You have never seen your own country have you?" Gavin sat hunched against a great maple tree his sword layed across one knee while he sharpened the blade. "I daresay they have fall wherever it is in this land you come from."
Sarah frowned at him wrinkling her nose in consternation. "Yes, but we haven't very many trees." She raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, "A servant girl doesn't require time to go out and dance among the ever dying trees. She has her duties and is expressly forbidden any beauties."
Gavin laughed at that his great voice booming across the valley and startling all the birds. "You will do well, you will indeed."
The sun had failed in the western sky and a wind hard and unyielding as it was playful and boisterous swept across the wooden thatched roofs only to be rebuffed by solid doors and well guarded chimneys. Their feet crunched unnoticed down the deserted street. Very few windows had not been closed against the wind, but those that did flickered merrily with the fires inside. Sarah's body was weary with the walk. They had not seen signs of war since they had first struck out, but the journey was hard. For a servant girl perhaps it would not have been so trying. Sarah had been a lady of the house of Targoan. This was a new thing to her. She drew the scarf tighter around her face. Gavin pounded on the door to the inn his voice only drowned in the rush of wind. From behind her Sarah felt the creeping cold and knew the anger of the storm that crackled in the distance. She turned back and saw in a flash of lightening the falling rain. This was the first time all things had not seemed bent to Gavin's will.
The door opened just a crack and then pulled half-way back. They tumbled in through the door way and helped push close the heavy oak door behind them. A tall wisp of a man was behind the door. His long tree like arms were carefully brushing the dust off of his suit with a dignified air.
"I suppose you've come for dinner then," he turned gracefully his body long and spidery with movements like a willow tree. He led them down a long hall past all the rooms. Some doors were closed and Sarah let them pass, but a few were open. On one a man sat staring out the window, in another only slightly cracked she saw a man and woman who were better left undisturbed, in the last one a little man sat cross-legged on the bed grinning like a fool jester. Sarah stopped after she had past it certain she had seen the man before. She took a step back to look at him again but found no one there. She took a step forward puzzled. Looking back and forth around the room she found nothing.
"You don't want that room," the man from the door shook his head. "Where can I put you tonight?" His long fingers tapped each other eagerly stroking his hands with a practiced air. "You'll want the room at the end of the hall. That's where I'll put you." Reaching into the depths of his coat he pulled out a key and handed it to Sarah. He looked her squarely in the eyes his steady blank stare unnerving. "You're key ma'am." He opened he door with a flourish. "Now, dinner."
He led them through the inner courtyard lush in ivy, fruit trees and bright happy flowers. Over the dark earth tiles he touched lightly the door to the inner dining area and bowed letting them walk first into the inner sanctum. As they walked the sounds of merry making and laughter grew near and louder. As they entered the dinning area they found a dance floor already occupied with two odd dozen people, and on one of the tables a jester standing on his head juggling one handed with both hands.
Gavin caught Sarah by the elbow and guided her towards the back where a small table was open. The long limbed man found them there and brought a plate to each of them. Steaming stew. Most of the vegetables were either old or not nearly ripe. The meat was tough and stringy. Sarah refused to complain--her stomach had been through much in the past fortnight. It was filling though, and it certainly beat Gavin's stabs at what he referred to as cooking. Tearing at the meat she realized briefly that two weeks again she never would have let it get in stomach. The world had rotated and now she was on a very different path.
"Eat slowly," Gavin rebuked, "you'll live longer." he turned and winked at her. Sarah blushed and returned her concentration to her soup. Gavin stood his plate already wiped clean.
Gavin took up the path without a word leaving only the stamped out ashes of the fire and the memory of the place. Their path led quickly to the west hindered by thick forest stands, rushing riverbeds, and villages. Gavin would not enter some villages. They passed three of them in a fortnight, and he knelt to the ground at each worn path running his fingers through the dirt and muttering to himself in a tongue Sarah could not understand. It annoyed Sarah immensely each time he stood shaking his head and moved on. Once she snorted angrily at him and strode down the direction of the path.
"You will not find me again in the wilderness." Gavin did not look back only kept on walking the same measured pace he had always maintained. Sarah stood fuming looking between him and sight of promised warmth and light with the curling smoke rising above the trees. With a sigh Sarah turned away and followed him back into the wilderness. They never wanted for food, and certainly never for shelter or warmth. On the warmest of days they walked among the cool of the trees with soft sunlight trickling down overhead. On cold days they found refuge on the forgotten paths in the mire where warm air filtered up through the bog and pushed back the bitterness of the autumn. Everywhere Sarah looked summer was fading away and the dying colors of the autumn were descending on the land. Bright reds, golds, and dark crumpled brown leaves drifted soundlessly from their perches and stirred themselves unbidden at their feet.
"You have never seen your own country have you?" Gavin sat hunched against a great maple tree his sword layed across one knee while he sharpened the blade. "I daresay they have fall wherever it is in this land you come from."
Sarah frowned at him wrinkling her nose in consternation. "Yes, but we haven't very many trees." She raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, "A servant girl doesn't require time to go out and dance among the ever dying trees. She has her duties and is expressly forbidden any beauties."
Gavin laughed at that his great voice booming across the valley and startling all the birds. "You will do well, you will indeed."
The sun had failed in the western sky and a wind hard and unyielding as it was playful and boisterous swept across the wooden thatched roofs only to be rebuffed by solid doors and well guarded chimneys. Their feet crunched unnoticed down the deserted street. Very few windows had not been closed against the wind, but those that did flickered merrily with the fires inside. Sarah's body was weary with the walk. They had not seen signs of war since they had first struck out, but the journey was hard. For a servant girl perhaps it would not have been so trying. Sarah had been a lady of the house of Targoan. This was a new thing to her. She drew the scarf tighter around her face. Gavin pounded on the door to the inn his voice only drowned in the rush of wind. From behind her Sarah felt the creeping cold and knew the anger of the storm that crackled in the distance. She turned back and saw in a flash of lightening the falling rain. This was the first time all things had not seemed bent to Gavin's will.
The door opened just a crack and then pulled half-way back. They tumbled in through the door way and helped push close the heavy oak door behind them. A tall wisp of a man was behind the door. His long tree like arms were carefully brushing the dust off of his suit with a dignified air.
"I suppose you've come for dinner then," he turned gracefully his body long and spidery with movements like a willow tree. He led them down a long hall past all the rooms. Some doors were closed and Sarah let them pass, but a few were open. On one a man sat staring out the window, in another only slightly cracked she saw a man and woman who were better left undisturbed, in the last one a little man sat cross-legged on the bed grinning like a fool jester. Sarah stopped after she had past it certain she had seen the man before. She took a step back to look at him again but found no one there. She took a step forward puzzled. Looking back and forth around the room she found nothing.
"You don't want that room," the man from the door shook his head. "Where can I put you tonight?" His long fingers tapped each other eagerly stroking his hands with a practiced air. "You'll want the room at the end of the hall. That's where I'll put you." Reaching into the depths of his coat he pulled out a key and handed it to Sarah. He looked her squarely in the eyes his steady blank stare unnerving. "You're key ma'am." He opened he door with a flourish. "Now, dinner."
He led them through the inner courtyard lush in ivy, fruit trees and bright happy flowers. Over the dark earth tiles he touched lightly the door to the inner dining area and bowed letting them walk first into the inner sanctum. As they walked the sounds of merry making and laughter grew near and louder. As they entered the dinning area they found a dance floor already occupied with two odd dozen people, and on one of the tables a jester standing on his head juggling one handed with both hands.
Gavin caught Sarah by the elbow and guided her towards the back where a small table was open. The long limbed man found them there and brought a plate to each of them. Steaming stew. Most of the vegetables were either old or not nearly ripe. The meat was tough and stringy. Sarah refused to complain--her stomach had been through much in the past fortnight. It was filling though, and it certainly beat Gavin's stabs at what he referred to as cooking. Tearing at the meat she realized briefly that two weeks again she never would have let it get in stomach. The world had rotated and now she was on a very different path.
"Eat slowly," Gavin rebuked, "you'll live longer." he turned and winked at her. Sarah blushed and returned her concentration to her soup. Gavin stood his plate already wiped clean.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Darkness, Light, and darkness
It was the final hour before dawn. In every direction the fires of the city burned brightly. The castle itself the last and highest point in the city was still standing, but now it held a very different set of soldiers. "You are certain she is nowhere in the castle." The bent man's voice was cracking from the strain, "I do not bring back false reports to our master." He turned to the man beside him. "It would not do to disappoint him unnecessarily." He frowned and drew deeply on the pipe which jutted unceremoniously from his lip. "Take the men out. The destruction is done." Alone in the tower he watched as the first rays of the sun poured over the castle. Beside him the body of a soldier served for his used ashes as he tapped his pipe on the helmet. "Now she will go to him, that will be just as well. This was the plan after all." He frowned looking back at the castle. "I think we missed something though--can't say what." He climbed the stairs one by one his bent body contorting at every step.
The forest was lush with the sounds of morning life. In the west the silence of the castle lay cold and stiff, but beyond the trees a softer silence emerged no longer bound by emotions but only of the busy work of regretless life. Overhead the soft twitter of a morning thrush echoed off trunks and slid peacefully over swaying leaves which listened without comment. Sarah stirred amidst the pile of leaves brown and crackling and rolled over her body warm and her mind at ease. It was the sound harsh angry voices which woke her. She sat up shaking her head of the cobwebs of now forgotten dreams her hand found only air and she sucked in a gasp of shock. Rubbing her palm with thumb she counted three under her breath her father had taught that to her long ago.
"You'll hand what you have over, or we'll cut it from you--simple as that." She turned down towards the ravine. There below her three men stood facing a fourth weapons drawn. They were wearing the coat of arms of Nagasia--a dark lion on a yellow background standing rampant. That was the same symbol she had seen on the soldiers as she had escaped the castle.
"There are three of you and one of me, it doesn't hardly seem like a fair fight," the man stood straight and ridged his sword swaying lightly at his side. "I do not think this is how we should conduct our business." His voice was hard and lined with an edge of darkness Sarah did not understand. Behind him she saw now a child lay in the grass his leg torn and bloodied. "I don't think he will be helping any."
The three men charged in their weapons flailing in the air with a rush and clash as he thrust them backwards with a glancing blow of his arm. Two of them he knocked backwards off balance and followed quickly his sword driving the way forward. The last man went for the child. Sarah screamed. All three glanced upwards to where she stood fists clenched her body quivering with anger oblivious to the danger of revealing herself. The third man stepped backwards laying his hand on the head of child. Sarah felt the rage overwhelm her red seemed to flood her vision. Her foot slipped and she felt trees pulling at her skirt, arms, and face. She came to sudden halt at the bottom of the hill and fell back with a thud. Someone screamed, she didn't know who. Blood splattered across her face, warm wet and filled with terror and pain. She looked upwards to find the man standing over her. The vision was blurred and she tried to focus. Only darkness and shadows.
"You had quite a spell there, don't sit up." Sarah groaned as strong hands lifted her head and held a bowl to them. "Here, drink." She let the warm liquid run down her throat and fill a place she had almost forgotten that screamed and raged with joy as it accepted the nourishment. He held her there letting her guide the bowl with her head until the soup was gone and the bowl empty. He lay her head back down and moved away. Sarah opened her eyes. Stars shown overhead, even more numerous than she had seen above the city. Suddenly she felt very small. Beside her she could hear the soft crackling of the fire snapping and popping in the cool night air. Around her the forest was dark and quiet, but she could almost feel it moving about her. Trees dark and mysterious loomed all around, and creatures of the night danced their daily dance. The man beside her was only cold and hard. Sarah frowned. "Where am I?"
"You are in the forest of Tagui. It is only a handful of league from the castle you escaped from." She heard the sharp rasp of steel as he began working on the finer edges of his blade. "The child is gone. I left him in the care of a good man. He will grow strong and well." The rasping stopped for a moment, "or they will find him and force him to join their league and he will become twisted and bent."
"Cheery aren't you." Sarah snapped sitting upright far too quickly to escape the wave of nausea which washed over her. "You know if I hadn't distracted those men you could be dead by now." She cocked her head to one side, "I think you owe me now."
"Owe you," he turned to look at her his face unreadable in the darkness. "Hmmph." He turned back to his blade. "What need would you have of me even if I did owe you."
"You may not be able to take on three soldiers alone with your blade, but you have courage." She pursed her lips together. "I will require an escort, you will do."
"Escort," the word seemed to roll off his tongue uncertainly as if such an idea was unheard of. "Where are you going princess lips." He laughed his sides shaking as he did so.
"To the kingdom of Nagiosa. That is as far as I require."
There was a dark brooding silence. Sarah waited impatiently.
"The debt will be paid," he stood up his back to her, "sleep now, we will depart in the morning." He walked away from the fire slipping into darkness. She lay back down watching the flames dance like dragons on the smoldering wood. "I will take you as far as my path leads. The way is not straight, but I will go to Nagiosa." Sarah layed her head back down.
"What's your name?" Sarah asked.
"Gavin, my name is Gavin. Sleep now Sarah we travel hard and fast." Gavin leaned back against the tree and looked up towards the moon only a small crescent in the sky he watched the shimmering edges as it danced silently for him. He rubbed his hands together their surface rough and pocked with wear and use. As he rubbed they grew warm and the palm on the right glowed a deep firey orange in the night. He thrust it suddenly against the trunk of the tree a thin wisp of smoke trailing away from the edge. He slumped back against the wide broad base and fell into dreams and nightmares.
The forest was lush with the sounds of morning life. In the west the silence of the castle lay cold and stiff, but beyond the trees a softer silence emerged no longer bound by emotions but only of the busy work of regretless life. Overhead the soft twitter of a morning thrush echoed off trunks and slid peacefully over swaying leaves which listened without comment. Sarah stirred amidst the pile of leaves brown and crackling and rolled over her body warm and her mind at ease. It was the sound harsh angry voices which woke her. She sat up shaking her head of the cobwebs of now forgotten dreams her hand found only air and she sucked in a gasp of shock. Rubbing her palm with thumb she counted three under her breath her father had taught that to her long ago.
"You'll hand what you have over, or we'll cut it from you--simple as that." She turned down towards the ravine. There below her three men stood facing a fourth weapons drawn. They were wearing the coat of arms of Nagasia--a dark lion on a yellow background standing rampant. That was the same symbol she had seen on the soldiers as she had escaped the castle.
"There are three of you and one of me, it doesn't hardly seem like a fair fight," the man stood straight and ridged his sword swaying lightly at his side. "I do not think this is how we should conduct our business." His voice was hard and lined with an edge of darkness Sarah did not understand. Behind him she saw now a child lay in the grass his leg torn and bloodied. "I don't think he will be helping any."
The three men charged in their weapons flailing in the air with a rush and clash as he thrust them backwards with a glancing blow of his arm. Two of them he knocked backwards off balance and followed quickly his sword driving the way forward. The last man went for the child. Sarah screamed. All three glanced upwards to where she stood fists clenched her body quivering with anger oblivious to the danger of revealing herself. The third man stepped backwards laying his hand on the head of child. Sarah felt the rage overwhelm her red seemed to flood her vision. Her foot slipped and she felt trees pulling at her skirt, arms, and face. She came to sudden halt at the bottom of the hill and fell back with a thud. Someone screamed, she didn't know who. Blood splattered across her face, warm wet and filled with terror and pain. She looked upwards to find the man standing over her. The vision was blurred and she tried to focus. Only darkness and shadows.
"You had quite a spell there, don't sit up." Sarah groaned as strong hands lifted her head and held a bowl to them. "Here, drink." She let the warm liquid run down her throat and fill a place she had almost forgotten that screamed and raged with joy as it accepted the nourishment. He held her there letting her guide the bowl with her head until the soup was gone and the bowl empty. He lay her head back down and moved away. Sarah opened her eyes. Stars shown overhead, even more numerous than she had seen above the city. Suddenly she felt very small. Beside her she could hear the soft crackling of the fire snapping and popping in the cool night air. Around her the forest was dark and quiet, but she could almost feel it moving about her. Trees dark and mysterious loomed all around, and creatures of the night danced their daily dance. The man beside her was only cold and hard. Sarah frowned. "Where am I?"
"You are in the forest of Tagui. It is only a handful of league from the castle you escaped from." She heard the sharp rasp of steel as he began working on the finer edges of his blade. "The child is gone. I left him in the care of a good man. He will grow strong and well." The rasping stopped for a moment, "or they will find him and force him to join their league and he will become twisted and bent."
"Cheery aren't you." Sarah snapped sitting upright far too quickly to escape the wave of nausea which washed over her. "You know if I hadn't distracted those men you could be dead by now." She cocked her head to one side, "I think you owe me now."
"Owe you," he turned to look at her his face unreadable in the darkness. "Hmmph." He turned back to his blade. "What need would you have of me even if I did owe you."
"You may not be able to take on three soldiers alone with your blade, but you have courage." She pursed her lips together. "I will require an escort, you will do."
"Escort," the word seemed to roll off his tongue uncertainly as if such an idea was unheard of. "Where are you going princess lips." He laughed his sides shaking as he did so.
"To the kingdom of Nagiosa. That is as far as I require."
There was a dark brooding silence. Sarah waited impatiently.
"The debt will be paid," he stood up his back to her, "sleep now, we will depart in the morning." He walked away from the fire slipping into darkness. She lay back down watching the flames dance like dragons on the smoldering wood. "I will take you as far as my path leads. The way is not straight, but I will go to Nagiosa." Sarah layed her head back down.
"What's your name?" Sarah asked.
"Gavin, my name is Gavin. Sleep now Sarah we travel hard and fast." Gavin leaned back against the tree and looked up towards the moon only a small crescent in the sky he watched the shimmering edges as it danced silently for him. He rubbed his hands together their surface rough and pocked with wear and use. As he rubbed they grew warm and the palm on the right glowed a deep firey orange in the night. He thrust it suddenly against the trunk of the tree a thin wisp of smoke trailing away from the edge. He slumped back against the wide broad base and fell into dreams and nightmares.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Sarah
In the darkness of the night there is no one so lonely to be near than yourself. Sarah wrapped the blanket tighter around her body and turned away from the moonlight which broke and split along the cracked window. Winter was cold. She had no one left to run to. Her mind tried to return to the days of comfort and warmth, but there was nothing there. Once, she knew but could not feel, she had been loved by warm strong arms. Once, she had a place to which she could run and hide and know what security was. Now, there was no one left. In the darkness she pulled the warmth of the blanket tighter and tried to dream of what she could not remember.
This was the castle Tanvia. Built seven hundred years past by a man they called her ancestor. Now he haunted the castle by night and day. Tanvia was a mighty warrior, cunning, proud, and unbeaten in combat. He had secured the future for his people, and for his family. Now among them all--all the Tanvia's she hid. His image was carved many, many times in the peace that followed. The freedom he had brought was doom to the stone of the mountains, and gold to the pockets of the stone carvers. In every hall, and for every one of the noble families his image had been carved once, twice and again. The silverware bore his mark, and the walls his symbols. Sarah could escape none of it, even the wool wrapped around her slender frame to keep it warm was bound with his name, and the likeness of his outline. It did her no more than warmth, and to remind her once again that she was the last of his kin. The line had been shattered and attacked time and again. With the passing of Tanvia there was none who remained to keep alive the name, the image, or the strength. Her family had ruled for thirty-five score years and now she was the last.
The feudal lords seemed to close about her. Sarah stood her body no longer cold, but angry. In every direction she could feel them like leeches, two of them now slept down the hall from her chamber. She drew the black cloak about her shoulders and slipped down the hall her footsteps barely whispers on the cold of the floor. She passed their doors and pushed back at the thoughts of gold, women, and gambling which seemed to creep from their corrupt minds and leek through the walls and underneath the door. in the darkness she nearly ran into the patrol. Throwing herself silently against the wall she waited her breath hard and fast as he passed by. Something dark was amiss in the castle tonight. Turning downwards she followed the twisting staircases of the servants. No one traversed them tonight. The servants were undeniably lazy when there was no one around to watch them. She passed by Garron the head masters door. She heard nothing, leaning close to the door she pressed her ear to it. Not even a slightest breath. She frowned, how unlike Garron, he never woke once he had drunk his fill. The house would have been a bustle with activity if he were awake no matter the hour. If Garron did not sleep no one did.
Passing through the kitchen she saw the cooks passed out on the table an empty wineskin at their elbows. Barely a rustle her robe made as she slipped into the pantry. She had come for food, but she felt uneasy. Turning away from the door and the drunken cooks she went to the shelf. Bread baked that morning, as well as a handful of onions she reached upwards drawing a sack from the shelf and began to fill it.
"Leave the turnips."
Sarah slammed her hand to her mouth and bit down dampening away the scream which threatened to emerge.
"They went bad this morning you see," out of the darkness of the corner a face appear shrouded by a dull red hood, "you should find the forest you know. It isn't safe here tonight." The man hopped forward. He stood only half a man's height and his face was covered in dark scarring as if his head had been held to a fire. "Hurry." He scampered past her his movements shockingly swift for someone his size.
Sarah leaned against the shelf her breathing slowing from its ragged pace. She looked down to where her fist was tightened against the shelf--the knuckles were white and blood dripped from one finger. She let go. Grabbing the sack she started for the door. This was her castle after all, what was she afraid of. A voice at the door stopped her. Curious she slipped forward into the kitchen and dropped in the corner by the stove, here the shadows from the fire made it seem as if there was only wall but a child could fit, or a small woman. "Check the pantry, I don't want anyone listening." A gloved hand smacked the door with an authoratiave slap. Sarah winced as the man strode through the door. "The plan is in place then Morgrid." He shoved the cooks aside letting them fall with a crack to the floor.
"Drugged," Sarah whispered silently.
"Yes, mi'lord it is. They are going for the girl now." A tall bent man circled around the table and began to scratch on the table with his long white knife. "Here is the castle, our forces converged from the west and south. The gate has already been opened we can thank their master," he looked with a sneer at the two cooks on the floor. "they are already flooding through the town going door to door. All who do not cede are killed or taken captive." The last part rolled off his tongue with a distasteful grimace. "Your men are effective at that. The purpose of this mission is of course the lady of the house. Her blood is necessary for what lies ahead." The bent man cocked his head to one side his mouth going flat and curled in a smile sick and putrid. "Keep her alive will you? I have other business." He turned and walked away his cane dragging the floor with each step." He stopped looking back at the fire which still blazed in the oven his eyes flickering madly, "Kar'no, alive mind you, but other things were not expressly forbidden. Except one--you know what--so be careful."
There was a silence as all that remained was the crackling of the fire along side two heart Kar'no did not turn back as he left leaving the door cracked open.
Sarah waited for a full sixty heartbeats before she emerged stepping over the bodies of the cooks she turned to the pantry and slipping back through the door crawled over the sacks and past the barrels of wine and mead that lined the back wall. There where very few knew where to look an empty barrel was shoved tight to the wall. She tapped it once hard wood against her soft knuckles the barrel opened in half and Sarah slipped inside and through the opening on the other side. The barrel closed of its own accord and there was only silence and small black rat with one ear chewed half-off and a chipped front tooth.
The passage was long and dark unused in the five years since she had last loved the secret passages of the castle. Dust and spiders covered her back and her hair as she slipped and crawled and climbed through the passageway. She emerged barely twenty of a man's height from the outer wall of the castle. She pushed once, then twice against the trapdoor now overgrown in weeds and brush. It was well that men in war do not move quietly in the night or it would have been heard. She emerged to find soldiers marching in the darkness past the place where she lay panting and cold in the forest floor. She closed the trap door quietly and crawled backwards into the brush. There were shouts and a one of the night patrol died with a shout and scream. She ran. Branches tore at her dress, an owl hooted overhead in the darkness, and from behind she heard the sound of footstep which only made her run faster. Soon only her own ragged gasps and the pounding of her own heartbeat were all she could hear. She leaned heavily against the great oak tree listening vainly for the sound of pursuit. No one, she reasoned, could have known so quickly that she had escaped the castle. She stumbled forward only to find herself at the edge of a deep ravine, she tripped and fell. The ledge which hugged tightly steep wall it sprouted from was deep in leaves and dead brush which had gathered from the wind or chose stubbornly to live their despite how unsuitable for any form of life it was.
Sarah looked up wondering how hard it would be to climb up. The way down was manageable, but she was so tired. The leaves felt suddenly warm and soft. After all this she found that she was tired and could have hoped for no better place to hide. Drawing her cloak tight about her shivering frame she burrowed into the leaves until her face poked only barely above the surface. For the first time in many years she felt protected and safe. Sarah slept.
This was the castle Tanvia. Built seven hundred years past by a man they called her ancestor. Now he haunted the castle by night and day. Tanvia was a mighty warrior, cunning, proud, and unbeaten in combat. He had secured the future for his people, and for his family. Now among them all--all the Tanvia's she hid. His image was carved many, many times in the peace that followed. The freedom he had brought was doom to the stone of the mountains, and gold to the pockets of the stone carvers. In every hall, and for every one of the noble families his image had been carved once, twice and again. The silverware bore his mark, and the walls his symbols. Sarah could escape none of it, even the wool wrapped around her slender frame to keep it warm was bound with his name, and the likeness of his outline. It did her no more than warmth, and to remind her once again that she was the last of his kin. The line had been shattered and attacked time and again. With the passing of Tanvia there was none who remained to keep alive the name, the image, or the strength. Her family had ruled for thirty-five score years and now she was the last.
The feudal lords seemed to close about her. Sarah stood her body no longer cold, but angry. In every direction she could feel them like leeches, two of them now slept down the hall from her chamber. She drew the black cloak about her shoulders and slipped down the hall her footsteps barely whispers on the cold of the floor. She passed their doors and pushed back at the thoughts of gold, women, and gambling which seemed to creep from their corrupt minds and leek through the walls and underneath the door. in the darkness she nearly ran into the patrol. Throwing herself silently against the wall she waited her breath hard and fast as he passed by. Something dark was amiss in the castle tonight. Turning downwards she followed the twisting staircases of the servants. No one traversed them tonight. The servants were undeniably lazy when there was no one around to watch them. She passed by Garron the head masters door. She heard nothing, leaning close to the door she pressed her ear to it. Not even a slightest breath. She frowned, how unlike Garron, he never woke once he had drunk his fill. The house would have been a bustle with activity if he were awake no matter the hour. If Garron did not sleep no one did.
Passing through the kitchen she saw the cooks passed out on the table an empty wineskin at their elbows. Barely a rustle her robe made as she slipped into the pantry. She had come for food, but she felt uneasy. Turning away from the door and the drunken cooks she went to the shelf. Bread baked that morning, as well as a handful of onions she reached upwards drawing a sack from the shelf and began to fill it.
"Leave the turnips."
Sarah slammed her hand to her mouth and bit down dampening away the scream which threatened to emerge.
"They went bad this morning you see," out of the darkness of the corner a face appear shrouded by a dull red hood, "you should find the forest you know. It isn't safe here tonight." The man hopped forward. He stood only half a man's height and his face was covered in dark scarring as if his head had been held to a fire. "Hurry." He scampered past her his movements shockingly swift for someone his size.
Sarah leaned against the shelf her breathing slowing from its ragged pace. She looked down to where her fist was tightened against the shelf--the knuckles were white and blood dripped from one finger. She let go. Grabbing the sack she started for the door. This was her castle after all, what was she afraid of. A voice at the door stopped her. Curious she slipped forward into the kitchen and dropped in the corner by the stove, here the shadows from the fire made it seem as if there was only wall but a child could fit, or a small woman. "Check the pantry, I don't want anyone listening." A gloved hand smacked the door with an authoratiave slap. Sarah winced as the man strode through the door. "The plan is in place then Morgrid." He shoved the cooks aside letting them fall with a crack to the floor.
"Drugged," Sarah whispered silently.
"Yes, mi'lord it is. They are going for the girl now." A tall bent man circled around the table and began to scratch on the table with his long white knife. "Here is the castle, our forces converged from the west and south. The gate has already been opened we can thank their master," he looked with a sneer at the two cooks on the floor. "they are already flooding through the town going door to door. All who do not cede are killed or taken captive." The last part rolled off his tongue with a distasteful grimace. "Your men are effective at that. The purpose of this mission is of course the lady of the house. Her blood is necessary for what lies ahead." The bent man cocked his head to one side his mouth going flat and curled in a smile sick and putrid. "Keep her alive will you? I have other business." He turned and walked away his cane dragging the floor with each step." He stopped looking back at the fire which still blazed in the oven his eyes flickering madly, "Kar'no, alive mind you, but other things were not expressly forbidden. Except one--you know what--so be careful."
There was a silence as all that remained was the crackling of the fire along side two heart Kar'no did not turn back as he left leaving the door cracked open.
Sarah waited for a full sixty heartbeats before she emerged stepping over the bodies of the cooks she turned to the pantry and slipping back through the door crawled over the sacks and past the barrels of wine and mead that lined the back wall. There where very few knew where to look an empty barrel was shoved tight to the wall. She tapped it once hard wood against her soft knuckles the barrel opened in half and Sarah slipped inside and through the opening on the other side. The barrel closed of its own accord and there was only silence and small black rat with one ear chewed half-off and a chipped front tooth.
The passage was long and dark unused in the five years since she had last loved the secret passages of the castle. Dust and spiders covered her back and her hair as she slipped and crawled and climbed through the passageway. She emerged barely twenty of a man's height from the outer wall of the castle. She pushed once, then twice against the trapdoor now overgrown in weeds and brush. It was well that men in war do not move quietly in the night or it would have been heard. She emerged to find soldiers marching in the darkness past the place where she lay panting and cold in the forest floor. She closed the trap door quietly and crawled backwards into the brush. There were shouts and a one of the night patrol died with a shout and scream. She ran. Branches tore at her dress, an owl hooted overhead in the darkness, and from behind she heard the sound of footstep which only made her run faster. Soon only her own ragged gasps and the pounding of her own heartbeat were all she could hear. She leaned heavily against the great oak tree listening vainly for the sound of pursuit. No one, she reasoned, could have known so quickly that she had escaped the castle. She stumbled forward only to find herself at the edge of a deep ravine, she tripped and fell. The ledge which hugged tightly steep wall it sprouted from was deep in leaves and dead brush which had gathered from the wind or chose stubbornly to live their despite how unsuitable for any form of life it was.
Sarah looked up wondering how hard it would be to climb up. The way down was manageable, but she was so tired. The leaves felt suddenly warm and soft. After all this she found that she was tired and could have hoped for no better place to hide. Drawing her cloak tight about her shivering frame she burrowed into the leaves until her face poked only barely above the surface. For the first time in many years she felt protected and safe. Sarah slept.
Of Mortals
This will be the uncut and raw beginnings of Mortals in a Dragon's Eye. The first parts will be finished live in the month of November updates happening as they are written. The final form will be much edited and be prepared for much that is to be wiped away and much to come that will not yet have been crystallized.
All work is copyright 2009 Peter Karth. Doom and Dire Tidings will come to any that should bend the pen's ink afoul.
All work is copyright 2009 Peter Karth. Doom and Dire Tidings will come to any that should bend the pen's ink afoul.
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