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DargonZine Volume 11 Issue 09
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 11
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 9
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DargonZine Distributed: 11/14/1998
Volume 11, Number 9 Circulation: 681
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Contents
Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
Friendships of Stone 4 Mark A. Murray Naia 6, 1015
Mute's Song 1 Mark A. Murray Yule 1015
Mute's Song 2 Mark A. Murray Yule 1015
========================================================================
DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues
are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
DargonZine 11-9, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright November, 1998 by
the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>,
Assistant Editor: Jon Evans <godling@mnsinc.com>. All rights reserved.
All rights are reassigned to the individual contributors. Stories
and artwork appearing herein may not be reproduced or redistributed
without the explicit permission of their creators, except in the case
of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution.
Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
========================================================================
Editorial
by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
<ornoth@shore.net>
In case you didn't notice the table of contents, this would appear
to be a Mark Murray special issue. It certainly wasn't intended to be
that way, but as an editor with a deadline, you sometimes have to take
what's available, and all too often I find that what's available are
stories from Mark.
Mark Murray joined the Dargon Project in June of 1995, and had his
first story printed before the year was out. In the three years since
then, we've printed 25 issues, and Mark has appearred in an amazing 17
of them, also setting a record of eight consecutive appearances. In
fact, there are only two writers who have had more stories printed in
DargonZine.
Mark has done this through two major story arcs. His longstanding
Raphael and Megan storyline began as a idea about a man whose lover was
cursed; in Mark's words: "an old enemy of his using his love as a way to
torture him". In a lighter vein, Mark introduced two children, Matthew
and Ben, whose adventures continue in this issue's installment of his
"Friendships of Stone" series. Then, after having covered serious, sad,
religious, morbid, and comedy, Mark tries his hand at a love story with
this issue's "Mute's Song".
Before discovering DargonZine, Mark had sent a few of his stories
out to some of the "famous" magazines, as any aspiring writer might. The
rejection letters he received only discouraged him and, he says, "My
writing dwindled to a slow crawl. Then I found DargonZine and my writing
started climbing." DargonZine's purpose, unlike those "famous"
magazines, is to grow aspiring writers by giving them a supportive
environment, encouraging them to write, providing constructive feedback
from other writers, and giving them exposure to a "real" readership. The
volume and improving quality of Mark's writing are a great illustration
of what the Dargon Project is ultimately meant to do: grow writers.
In return, Mark has given back to the group. He is one of the major
researchers and contributors to the collection of maps that are
available on the DargonZine Web site. From the start, he has been
passionate about making it easier for new writers to get up to speed on
the milieu and the restrictions of writing in Dargon, and he volunteered
to take ownership of our nascent mentoring program. And about a year
from now he will begin the preparations for hosting the Year 2000 Dargon
Writers' Summit. So not only has Mark been a prolific writer, but he has
served as a model for other writers by developing his sense of ownership
and taking his share of responsibility for the project's success.
But we all know that enough is enough, and although you can be sure
that there's much more coming, I promise that there'll be no Mark Murray
in our next issue! DargonZine 11-10, the last issue of the year, will
feature three stories from the people who are benefitting from Mark's
mentoring program: three brand-new Dargon writers! So watch for our
Dargon debutant issue, coming in mid-December!
========================================================================
Friendships of Stone
Part 4: Weathered Edges
by Mark A. Murray
<dragonmark@usa.net>
Naia 6, 1015
Part 1 of this story was printed in DargonZine 10-6
Part 2 of this story was printed in DargonZine 10-8
Part 3 of this story was printed in DargonZine 11-2
Rachel was busy fixing two mugs of tea, one for her and one for
Tara, when a knock sounded on the door. As she went quickly to the door
to open it, Tara got up from a chair to stand behind her. Rachel was a
hand taller than Tara but that wasn't the only difference in the two
women. Rachel had short blonde hair while Tara's was brown and long.
Tara was quiet and introverted while Rachel loved being among people.
Rachel worked at the Inn of the Golden Lion and Tara worked for her
uncle, Captain Adrunian Koren of the town guard. What they did have in
common was a concern for two small children: Matthew and Ben.
"Who is it?" Tara asked from behind Rachel. "Is it them?" She had
stopped in to see if Matthew and Ben were home. When she had found out
they weren't, she had informed Rachel of her visit with the boys to her
uncle's office at Dargon Keep. Tara believed that her friend, Sharin,
had been kidnapped, and the boys were the only ones to see the man whom
she believed had done the kidnapping. It was a surprise to Tara to find
that they weren't home, as one of the town guard was supposed to have
escorted them there.
A large man in a uniform entered. On his breast was the ducal
crest. Behind him, Matthew and Ben walked into the house.
"Good afternoon. I am Sergeant Ryal. I was charged by Lieutenant
Taishent to deliver these two to their home and not to let them out of
my sight unless a Rachel or an Eileen was here. I'm hoping one of you is
Rachel or Eileen," Ryal said.
"I'm Rachel. I watch these boys when their mothers are working.
Eileen is Matthew's mother, but she's working. When you return, give my
thanks to Jerid for bringing them home safely."
"I will," Ryal said, then turned and left. Rachel turned to the
boys and said, "You've been all over Dargon, I hear."
"We were," Matthew said, resigned to accept whatever punishment she
gave him.
"I've had a *long* talk with Tara. She's told me how you were there
at Sharin's tent the day before she was kidnapped and how you heard and
saw a noble argue with her. She also told me about taking you to the
keep to see her Uncle. A guard was to escort you home.
"You were supposed to be here bells ago after showing the town
guards where the tent was, but you went to see Jerid instead." She
sighed as if she didn't know what else to say. "From what I've been
told, I can't fault you much." Ben's eyes grew wide and he started to
say something, but Rachel cut him off, "*But* you should have come to me
before going to see Jerid. Who knows what could have happened to you
between here and the keep?" Rachel knelt down in front of the boys to
look at them on their level. "What would I do if something had happened
to you?" she asked them. "What would I have told your mother, Matthew?"
Rachel watched them shift their eyes downward, away from her. She knew
they wouldn't answer her. Sighing, she stood and took a step back.
"Tara wants to keep searching for her friend and asked me if you
could accompany her on her search," Rachel added. Matthew and Ben looked
up and watched Rachel intently. They had been expecting punishment, and
now they held their breath waiting to see what Rachel would say next.
"I'm going to let you go with her," Rachel said, "with one promise.
You have to promise that you'll stay with her and listen to what she
tells you."
"I promise," Ben said, hurriedly. He ran over to Rachel and hugged
her.
"Me, too," Matthew added.
"I've got to go to work soon," Rachel said as she hugged Ben back.
"Your mother is still working, Matthew. Ben, your mother ..."
"I know," Ben said quietly, stepping back from Rachel. "She
probably won't be home all night."
"I'm sorry, Ben," Rachel said softly. Ben's mother was hardly ever
home. When she was, she was usually drunk. There was a small pause
before Rachel spoke again. "If you're with Tara, I don't have to worry
about you, and you're at least doing something worthwhile. Help Tara
find her friend, you hear?"
"Yes," Matthew answered. "We'd know him if we spotted him again.
We'll find him, and then we'll find Sharin." Ben nodded.
"Thank you, Rachel," Tara said. "She's the only friend I have, and
I don't want to lose her."
"Hey, where's Zed?" Ben asked. "I don't see him."
"He's home," Tara told him. "If we're going to be searching all
over the town, I don't want to have to worry about him wandering off.
Plus, he tends to draw attention, and I don't want that noble seeing us
until we find out if he's got Sharin."
"Oh."
"Thank you again, Rachel. I'll have them back by nightfall. I
promise."
"See that you do. Now go on and find your friend." Tara, Matthew,
and Ben walked out the door and started down the alley.
"Where are we going?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know," Tara said.
"Back to Sharin's tent," Ben answered.
"Why?" Matthew asked.
"Because that's where the town guards started. Why shouldn't we?"
Ben replied. Tara looked at Ben and smiled.
"Yes, why shouldn't we?" she echoed.
They didn't find anything new at the tent. Ben looked over the
ground several times looking for something that would lead them to the
noble. It was on his pass inside the tent that Matthew stopped him.
"Ben, it isn't any use. We aren't going to find anything new." Ben
looked up from the ground to stare at his friend. A couple of tears were
forming at the edge of his eyes.
"You heard what they said," Ben cried. "She's probably gone by now!
You heard them!"
"Ben!" Matthew yelled. "That isn't what they meant!"
"It is so! And you know it."
"It isn't!"
"Stop it!" Ben screamed. "It is so what they meant!"
"They said they'd find her!" Matthew yelled.
"Who said she's gone?" Tara interrupted, concern covering her face.
The boys looked like they were going to fight.
"That town guard said some things, but he didn't really mean what
Ben said," Matthew explained. "Did he Ben?" Ben looked at the ground.
"Yes, he did," Ben muttered. "There's no way around it. That's what
he meant even if he didn't say all of it out loud."
"Mean what?" Tara asked, moving to kneel beside Ben. "What did he
say?"
"Ben," Matthew pleaded. He knew Ben was right, but he didn't want
Tara to know.
"She should know," Ben replied, his boyish nature seemingly gone.
"One of the guards said that whoever took Sharin was probably taking her
out of Dargon quickly. He thought she was gone by now."
"Who said this?" Tara asked, her voice hard and edged.
"I don't remember his name. He was one of the town guards that was
picked to search for her."
"Describe him," Tara ordered. "I'll have him thrown in a cell for
even thinking that! I'll have --"
"Tara!" Matthew interrupted. "We'll find her."
"I'll have him whipped," she continued, her voice breaking up.
"I'll ... I'll ..." Her voice trailed off a bit and then she started to
finish her sentence, but instead moaned, "Oh, I'll never find her."
"We'll find her," Ben said.
"No," Tara cried. "It's me. I always lose those closest to me. I
lost my family, I almost lost uncle Koren, and now I've lost Sharin. It
happens to everyone that's close to me!"
"You haven't lost her yet," Matthew said. "But if we stay here all
day, we will."
"Maybe Zed could follow her scent?" Ben asked.
"I don't know," Tara replied, wiping the tears from her face. "He's
never done that before."
"Besides," Matthew added, "he'll draw attention. And if we find the
noble, he might spot us. We don't want that to happen. We need to follow
him to where he has Sharin."
"It's just the three of us, then," Tara said.
"And four of the town guard," Matthew added, "who should have told
the patrols. And Jerid, who has the keep's guards looking. Why, with all
that, this noble doesn't have a chance."
"Unless he's gone already," Ben whispered.
"Ben!" Matthew and Tara yelled at the same time.
"Come on," Ben said, leaving the tent. "Let's go look for this
noble." Matthew and Tara followed him out, and the three of them went to
the marketplace.
It was just after midday when they completed their round through
the marketplace. Tara wanted to eat at a shop there, but the boys wanted
to go home to eat.
"Don't you like eating here?" Tara asked.
"Yes," Ben replied. "Sometimes. Last time we ate here, the food was
really spicy."
"Well, we don't have to get spicy food this time," she told him.
"I'd rather eat at home," Matthew stated.
"But why?" Tara asked.
"We don't have enough money," Ben told her.
"We don't have any money," Matthew corrected him.
"Oh," Tara remarked. "That's a good reason. And I don't have enough
for all three of us." She brought out her coins from a small bag that
hung from her belt. Spreading them out, she realized that she would
barely have enough money for her own lunch. "Would you mind company for
lunch?"
"I don't mind. And mom and Rachel aren't home," Matthew said,
smiling. They left the marketplace and went to Matthew's house to eat.
It was a small lunch consisting of soup and biscuits. Finishing up his
soup, Matthew asked where they should look next.
"Back to the marketplace?" Ben asked, stuffing the last of his
biscuit in his mouth.
"Zed does hunt," Tara replied to some unasked question.
"What?" Matthew asked.
"I was thinking about Zed. He uses his nose to hunt. Maybe he could
find Sharin."
"It's worth a try," Ben said. "Do you have something of Sharin's so
that Zed can smell it?"
"Lots of things. Sharin and I trade clothes all the time."
"Back to the tent again," Matthew sighed. Tara and Ben giggled.
The three of them, accompanied by Zed, walked toward the
marketplace -- again. They took Zed to Sharin's tent and let him wander
around it. Zed was a shivaree and drew attention most places he went.
His body was long with long brown fur covering it. He had a long busy
tail, a long snout, and short upright ears. Shivarees were wild
creatures and sometimes hunted for their fur. Most people had never seen
a shivaree, which was why Zed drew stares. He sniffed the ground around
the front of the tent and then lifted his head high into the air. His
nose twitched and he sniffed quickly. Lowering his head back down to the
ground, he turned and started walking up the Street of Travellers.
"This is a long street, isn't it?" Ben asked.
"Yes," Tara said. "It goes from the docks through most of Dargon on
this side of the river, through the business district, through the
marketplace, over the causeway, and to the keep."
"Why is it called the Street of Travellers?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know," Tara replied. "Maybe because it connects all the
main places that travellers find themselves going to?"
"What's that?" Ben asked, pointing to a painted sign on the front
of a building. The sign showed a trio of candles, of various shapes and
sizes, burning brightly. Above the candles were the words, "Trills
Candles". Zed ignored the building and kept walking.
"It's a place that makes candles, Ben," Tara answered. "There are
several places like this throughout the business district. There are
also tanners, weavers, tailors, herbalists, bakers, and all sorts of
other businesses."
"We are in the business district?" Matthew asked.
"Just like the marketplace, there aren't any real defined boundries
for the business district. It's just a general area that expands or
shrinks depending on the year."
"The year determines if it's big or small?" Ben asked. "That's
weird."
"It isn't the year that does it, but how the year goes."
"Goes where?" Matthew asked. They were slowly walking down the
road. Zed was crossing back and forth in front of them.
"If there are a lot of ships or trade caravans that come here, then
the year goes fairly well for businesses. But if storms or raiders
hinder ships and caravans, then the year isn't so good for trade."
"Why is there a business district and a marketplace?" Matthew
asked.
"It wasn't always that way. When the ships came in and merchants
wanted a place to store supplies, they built the warehouses on the
docks. When they wanted to sell things, they couldn't use the docks. It
smelled bad all the time and there was always some activity dealing with
ships and repairs and such going on, so some merchants moved away from
the docks. That's when the business district started."
"What about the marketplace?" Ben asked. He was looking down at the
street and kicking rocks at random. He kicked a rock and it lifted high
off the ground and he watched its flight.
"The farmers started that, really. When the farmers came in to sell
their crops, they wanted a place to do that. Since they usually couldn't
afford the buildings in the business district, they gathered at an open
crossroads to sell their crops. That's when the marketplace started."
"Look at that bread!" Ben shouted. He had noticed the bread while
watching the rock fall. The discussion of economics was forgotten as the
three of them stared inside an open door of a baker's building. The loaf
of bread was easily twice as large as a normal loaf, maybe three times.
"You'd have to have a big oven to bake something like that," Tara
said.
"And a big belly to eat it," Matthew replied. Ben giggled.
"Straight," Tara said, pulling them away. "We've got a noble to
find, not a loaf of bread."
"And Zed," Ben added. "I don't see him anywhere."
"Get out of there!" a man yelled from somewhere up the street.
"Oh!" Tara snarled. "That's Zed, and he's gotten into something."
They ran, looking for Zed or the man who was yelling. There were
three people staring inside a building. "He's got to be there," Tara
said, heading for the people. When they got there, they found that Zed
had located a place where meat was smoked. It looked as if he had tried
to grab some of the raw meat and the owner had caught him in the act.
"Zed!" Tara yelled. "Get out of there!"
"This is your beast?" the owner asked, anger tinting his voice.
"He's mine. I'm sorry if he's caused any trouble."
"Aye, he's snatched some of my beef from the rack."
"How much?" Tara asked. This sort of thing happened all the time to
her when she took Zed out.
"A Sterling."
"He couldn't have eaten that much! Five Floren."
"It was good beef. Eight Floren."
"Six.
"Seven.
"Done," Tara replied and dug the coins from her purse. "Come on
Zed."
"Was he following the smell of the meat all along?" Ben asked.
"Most likely," Tara answered. "I told you, he's never done this
sort of thing before. I don't think we'll ever find her."
"We'll find her," Matthew said. "Look, Zed seems to have picked up
another scent."
"I know," Tara said, but she didn't sound as if she believed
herself. They continued following Zed up the Street of Travellers toward
the docks.
"Where are we going now?" Ben asked.
"We're going to the docks," Tara said. "Or at least Zed is going
towards the docks."
"We aren't walking towards the marketplace?"
"No. Look up at the sun. See, it is on our left. That means we're
walking north, or somewhat north."
"Oh," Ben said. "And the docks are north?"
"Yes," Tara answered, but didn't say any more.
The docks were fairly large and spread out. Commercial Street
intersected the Street of Travellers in a T fashion near the docks.
Around the docks, the whole area was granite cobbled. Commercial Street
also ran alongside the docks and widened up to become not only a street
but also an area for the loading and unloading of ships.
They searched the open areas next to the actual docks first. It
took them some time as the area was heavily congested, Zed went over
areas several times, and they had to keep out of the way of the workers.
After that, they moved inward some and searched around the fronts of the
buildings and warehouses facing the sea. It took them less time to
search the areas behind the buildings, and in the end, it was fruitless.
"She's gone!" Tara cried out as she sat down on the ground. Zed
curled up next to her and used his nose to pry her hand away from her
body. He moved back and forth under her hand, and she unconsciously
began to scratch behind his ears.
"We don't know that," Matthew said.
"Have we found her?"
"No, but --"
"No, we haven't," Tara sighed. "She's gone."
"Maybe the guard found her," Ben added.
"And maybe not!" Tara snipped. "She's gone, I said! Don't you
understand that?"
"You don't have to yell at Ben," Matthew told her. "It isn't his
fault, you know."
"If he hadn't wanted that stupid dragon, then maybe that noble
wouldn't have found her," she replied.
"You can have that 'stupid dragon' if it'll get Sharin back!" Ben
said, tears forming on his face. "I never wanted it back as much as
her!" He turned around and began crying.
"You didn't have to say that," Matthew told her. "If he didn't want
that dragon, no one would have gotten a look at the noble. Your chances
of finding her would have --"
"I'm ..." Tara started. "I didn't mean that. Ben? I'm sorry, okay?
I just don't want to lose my best friend. I've lost too many people in
my life already."
"It's okay," Ben whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear.
"I'd feel the same way if Matthew disappeared."
"Quiet!" Matthew ordered.
"What now?" Tara asked.
"Shhh!" Matthew hissed. Tara shut up and Ben turned around.
"It's him," Ben whispered as he heard what Matthew had heard. "I'd
know that voice anywhere."
"Yes, that's his voice," Matthew agreed. "Now be quiet and let's
see if we can find him."
"Without him seeing us, first," Tara added. They crept along the
alley to peer out into the open area of Commercial Street. Zed appeared
curious as to what they were looking at. He started forward to see, but
Tara held him back. Listening to where the voice seemed to come from,
they found a group of men clumped together talking.
"That's him," Matthew said.
"Which one?" Tara asked.
"See the man on the far left?" There were four men with their backs
to the group, and they seemed to be talking about a ship.
"Yes. Is he the one?"
"No, but the one to his right is." Matthew pointed to the second
man from the left.
"How can you tell? His back is to us."
"I just know that's him," Matthew answered. The men turned around.
The man that was second from the left wasn't the noble. However, the man
third from the left *was* the noble. "Well, I knew it was one of them."
"If he's still here, then it's likely that Sharin is still here,"
Tara whispered.
"Do you think she's on a boat?" Ben asked.
"I don't know," Tara replied, turning to look at him. "I hope not,"
she said finally.
"He's leaving," Matthew said. "We've got to follow him." It wasn't
easy for them to follow the noble. He didn't walk, he rode. They had to
walk quickly to keep up with him, sometimes running to keep him in
sight.
"You think he knows we're following him?" Tara asked.
"I don't know. You'd think he'd run or confront us or something if
he did," Matthew said. "He's just riding along as if nothing was wrong."
"I wonder where he's going?" Ben asked.
"We'll find out as long as we don't lose sight of him," Matthew
replied. They managed to keep up with the noble. Zed seemed to enjoy the
fast pace and made a game of it. He would twine in and out between the
three of them without making them trip.
The noble went through the business district and the marketplace.
He rode down the Street of Travellers and just before the causeway, he
turned onto the Duke's Highway. It was the road that ran parallel with
the Coldwell. The local farmers used it to bring their tithings to the
duke, their crops to the marketplace, and the merchants used it because
it was a well-worn road. The main gates to Dargon stood across this
road. No one guarded the gates, though, as they were always left open.
The wall around the city wasn't finished and it was useless to guard the
gates.
The noble rode down this road for a league and turned off onto a
path that led to a medium sized house. There was a small porch on the
front, a few windows around the sides, and slate tiles on the roof.
Overall, it looked like a well kept house. Beside the house was a large
field of newly sprouted wheat, and behind the house stood a grove of
pine trees. After the noble tied his horse to a wooden post, he entered
the house. Matthew, Ben, and Tara looked for a spot to hide that was
close.
Most everything around the area was flat. The wheat was just
beginning to grow, the grove of trees was on the other side of the
house, and there was nothing near the road.
"There's a small ditch over there," Ben said, pointing. Matthew
looked to where Ben pointed and nodded.
"It'll have to do for now," he said. They moved to the ditch. "What
now?"
"We call the guard," Ben said.
"We see if she's in there and if she is, we get her out of there,"
Tara said. "And soon."
"How are we going to do that?" Matthew asked.
"One of us goes to the front door and draws their attention, while
the other two go to the back door and look to see if Sharin is there,"
she explained.
"What's this one at the front supposed to do?"
"I don't know. You'll figure something out."
"Me?" Matthew asked. "Why me?"
"Because Ben is going to go with me," Tara answered.
"I am?" Ben asked. "Why am I going with you?"
"Because I may need someone to help free Sharin once we get
inside."
"Why can't I go in the back door with you?" Matthew asked.
"Because it's my plan!" Tara hissed. "You get to go to the front
door."
"I think getting the guard is a better idea," Ben remarked.
"You can run and get the guard, then," Tara snapped. "I'm going to
free Sharin."
"No, I want to help free Sharin, too," Ben muttered.
"What am I supposed to tell them?" Matthew asked.
"I don't know. Think of something. Give us some time to go around
back and then knock on the front door. When we hear you start talking,
we'll go in the back door," Tara said. "Keep Zed here until we're around
the house. He should stay in the area, but I don't want him following me
into the house."
"Okay," Matthew said as he watched the two of them run around the
house. Zed had found something interesting and hadn't noticed Tara
leave.
Matthew got up, walked over to the front door, and knocked. A
large, burly man answered. It wasn't the noble and Matthew wondered just
how many people were in the house.
"What'ya want?" the man asked.
"Um, well ..."
"Spit it out boy!"
"Have you seen a dog around here?" Matthew said, his voice just a
bit louder than normal. "I lost my dog, and I was wondering if you've
seen it?"
"What'cha yellin' fer?" the man asked. "And I seen lots of dogs
'round here. What's yer dog look like?"
"Well, he's kind of, um, small. He's brown and --"
"Looks like a brown dog over there," the man said and pointed
toward Zed. "Now go away!" the man started to shut the door. Inside,
voices started yelling, and Matthew could hear Ben and Tara. He pushed
the door open and ran past the man into the room. "Hey!" the man yelled.
"Come here, you!"
Matthew ran from that room into the next, where he saw Ben and
Tara. Two men were holding each of them. He was about to say something
when he felt hands clamp around his shoulders.
"What's the commotion?" someone yelled from upstairs. Matthew and
Ben recognized the voice as the noble's. Sounds of feet on the stairs
told them he was coming down.
"Children!" the big, burly man yelled. "I think they were trying to
steal from us."
"Children?" the merchant asked. "What would they be doing here?"
"They look like they've been living in the streets. They're all
covered in dirt and their clothes are torn," the man replied.
"Not all of them are children," the merchant said as he walked into
the room. He eyed Tara up and down. "Not all, indeed. Clean you up some,
and I'll bet you'll fetch a good price at a slaver's auction."
"I'll --" Tara began.
"You'll what? You're dirty, unkempt, and probably don't have a
living relative," the merchant interrupted. "Take her to the food cellar
with the other one."
"What about the other two?"
"Get rid of them," the merchant said. "I don't want them to
interfere with anything else. Understand?"
Matthew and Ben were silent trying to follow the conversation to
find out if Sharin was in the house. Matthew almost asked who the other
one in the cellar was, but held his speech to see if he could learn
anything more. He noticed Ben look over at him with a questioning look.
"I want extra for this," the man said.
"Fine, I'll throw in another Sterling, but get it done. You can
bury them in the pine grove."
"Bury me?" Ben asked. "What do you mean? You're going to bury us?
Alive?"
"No, you dense leech," the merchant snapped. "He's going to slit
your throat first, and then bury you!"
"No!" Ben yelled. "He can't do that! You can't kill me!"
"Oh, shut him up!" the merchant complained. "And take them out back
now. I don't want to hear their whining!"
Ben started to kick and scream. The two men beside him had to
readjust their hold, but they got his flailing arms stopped. Ben's legs
continued to lash out at anything and everything.
Warned from Ben's activities, the two men holding Tara tightened
their grip and led her out of the room. The man behind Matthew picked
him up and carried him outside. The two men and Ben were out the door
already, and down the steps. Ben was screaming, but Matthew was silent.
He knew he couldn't get away, so he didn't fight. He was hoping the man
would relax his grip so he *could* try.
The five of them, three men and two boys, entered the pine grove.
"Kill them," one of the men holding Ben said.
The man holding Matthew quickly plunged his knife into him. Ben
stopped kicking and screaming as he saw his friend fall to the ground.
Matthew groaned as he collapsed. Ben started screaming for help as he
knew he was next.
========================================================================
Mute's Song
Part 1
by Mark A. Murray
<dragonmark@usa.net>
Dargon, Yule 1015
Part 2 of this story appears later in this issue
Duchy of Dargon
A few leagues outside of Kenna
It was a crisp summer's morning high in the mountains of the Darst
Range. Snow had fallen in the night to leave a trace of white on the
ground. Nicodemus opened the door of his one room cabin and swept the
small amount of snow from the doorway. Setting the broom against the
wall, he smiled as he felt a familiar presence draw closer. He walked a
few paces, saw that the snow hadn't covered the ground everywhere, and
stopped to watch the path that went by his home and wound itself along
the top of the ridge. A stag slowly came into view. It was a young stag
with a small set of antlers on its head and it walked calmly towards
Nicodemus. Nicodemus watched as the stag drew nearer and felt its
presence grow stronger in his mind.
"Food?" was the pervading thought from the stag.
"There's some hay left," Nicodemus thought as he turned and walked
around to the back of the cabin. He moved large pieces of bark to
uncover the hay. The stag followed him around the back of the cabin and
nudged Nicodemus' elbow. Nicodemus thought that the stag enjoyed his
company more than the food because food was still abundant in the
forest.
"Eat," he thought and received what he had labeled as a thanks. It
was sometimes hard to tell what animals thought or felt. Even after
"speaking" with them for years, Nicodemus still did not understand many
things. He brushed a scattering of snow off a large log and sat down to
watch the stag eat. He didn't understand why he could communicate with
most animals, but he couldn't communicate with people -- even his
parents. He had to point and show most of the time, since he couldn't
speak. It had been frustrating, especially since the animals understood
his thoughts.
He learned many things from his parents, though. His father helped
him build this cabin and taught him how to take care of it -- fix the
roof, mud the holes in the logs, and various other small tasks. His
mother tried to teach him how to cook, but he was never as good as she
was. She showed him how to patch the holes in his clothes. It never
worked, however, and he always brought them to her. Since the snow
wasn't as deep as he had thought, he decided to make the trip and visit
them. It had been awhile since he was last there and they were always
glad to see him.
A loud squawking startled him. He looked up and watched as a
squirrel descended the large oak tree above him. He felt the squirrel's
happiness at seeing him. It reached the base of the tree and ran over to
Nicodemus.
"Scratch," it said as it climbed into Nicodemus' lap and brushed
against him. He laughed as he scratched the squirrel's back and neck.
"Pushy, aren't you," he told the squirrel.
"Scratch," it said as it enjoyed Nicodemus' scratching.
"Go on," he told the squirrel, finally. "I have work to do."
Deciding that it wasn't going to get scratched any more, the squirrel
twitched its tail and jumped to the oak tree. After the squirrel left
his lap, Nicodemus went back inside the cabin. He packed his clothes
into a small sack and grabbed his walking staff. Shutting and latching
the door, Nicodemus said good bye to the stag and started down the
mountain.
It wasn't a long trip to his parent's home. It took him less than a
day to walk it. The shift in weather as he walked down the mountain was
amazing. The lower he got, the warmer it became. It still filled him
with wonder at how a shift in height could cause such changes in
weather.
As he neared his parent's home, the wind carried the smell of
cooking to him. His mother's food always tasted good, but the only thing
he had for comparison was his cooking. Thinking about the food, he
hurried to the door. As he reached it, he remembered the last time he
had burst into their home. It would not be good to catch them in a
loving embrace again. That had been one of the most embarrassing moments
in his life. His father had turned a bright shade of red that day.
Thinking about it now, he smiled and knocked on the door.
"Nico!" his father shouted as he opened the door. "Come in. Delia!
Nico's here!"
"Nico?" his mother called. She emerged from the kitchen and hugged
her son. "You knew I was making pies today, didn't you?" He shook his
head no, but smiled at the thought of her delicious pies.
"Nico, I heard of a man in Dargon City who teaches languages," his
father said. Nicodemus looked at his father and cocked his head in
question. "Not just any language, Nico. He teaches something called
'handspeak'. I was talking to a traveler some time ago, one thing led to
another and this traveler told me about an amazing sight that he saw. He
saw mute people talking to each other using their fingers!" Nicodemus'
eyes went wide. He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. "Yes,
using fingers," his father said. "We have a small bit of money saved,
but if you're interested, we'll send you to Dargon City to learn it."
Nicodemus looked at his father in amazement.
"They would spend their life savings on me!" he thought. Nicodemus
shook his head no. "I just can't do it," he thought. "Not with their
money."
"Oh, Nico, we don't mind, really," his mother said knowing her son
all too well. "We're happy here and the money hasn't been touched in
years." Nicodemus turned to his mother and shrugged as he pursed his
lips. "You think about it," she replied.
"We're planning on spending some of that money day after tomorrow.
There's a festival in Kenna. Would you like to go with us?" his father
asked. Nicodemus nodded his head.
"A festival!" he thought. "I wonder if they'll have singing
people?" Nicodemus always enjoyed listening to people sing, especially
his mother. She had a beautiful voice. He couldn't believe all the
amazing sounds that came out of her mouth when she sang. It was the one
thing that he wished he could do. He always stood in awe as he listened
to someone sing.
When alone, he tried to make sounds come out of his mouth. All he
ever got was air rushing out. He finally gave up after years of trying,
but he never stopped thinking about the singing.
Dargon City
Home of Gilliam Hytheworde
The room was dark and she hated it. She hated him. She thought
about her last attempt to escape his imprisonment as she waited for
someone to unlock her door. There were still bruises from the beating
she had received from his bodyguard, Darrin. She didn't get many chances
to run, but she took them when they appeared. He always kept a close
watch on her, though.
"Eliza, I'm coming in," Darrin warned as he opened the door. She
sat on the bed and waited for him. Darrin opened the door and peered
inside. When he saw that Elizabeth was on the bed, he entered the room.
He was a large man. Cords of muscle ran down his arms and each leg was
as thick as her waist. She had learned the hard way that he was very
quick for his size.
"He's ready for you. Remember, when you serve the tea, touch the
guy. If he's telling the truth, you don't have to say anything. If he's
lying, then you ask Gilliam, 'Is that all, M'lord?'. Don't mess this one
up. It's important."
"Is that all, M'lord?" Elizabeth asked mockingly. Darrin raised his
hand to slap her, but remembered that she needed to be presentable this
time. He smiled as he reached over and touched her instead. She felt his
finger and a small shock went through her. Then his thoughts hit her.
"Raffenraker scrud sucker! *Whore*!" Before she could recover, his
emotions tore through her. His lust mixed with smug gloating overpowered
her. She could feel his lust course through her. It pried into every
corner of her soul and she tried to shake it loose. She lost her breath
as she fought for control.
"No!" she screamed as she scrambled back.
"You should learn to respect me," Darrin said.
His thoughts and emotions were gone, but the memory of them
remained. She fought to forget them and concentrated on her breathing.
"Breathe in," she thought. "Breathe out."
"Come on! We don't want to be late," Darrin said. She crawled off
the bed as Darrin backed up. He motioned her to the door. She walked in
front of him down the hallway. Opening a door, they walked into the
kitchen. The cook had the tea prepared and ready for her. She took the
tray and went into Gilliam's study. As Darrin opened the door for her,
she saw two men seated at a table. Gilliam was sitting with his back to
her and the other merchant was facing her. She walked into the room and
stood by Gilliam.
"Ah, the tea is here," Gilliam said. "Charles, would you like
some?"
"After that delicious cake, I believe I would," Charles answered.
Elizabeth set the tray down on the table and poured a cup of tea.
"So, Charles, you're not trying to sell me broken merchandise at a
high price, are you?" Gilliam asked as Elizabeth moved to set the tea
down by Charles. As she set the tea down in front of Charles, she
touched his hand. There was a small shock and his thoughts filled her
mind. "... merchandise is of the highest quality. And a high price? I'm
barely making a profit, you old rat ..." His emotions followed next, but
she was prepared for them. "Breathe," she thought. They filled her mind,
but she held control. Injured pride. Pompousness. Arrogance. Vanity. She
straightened and set a cup of tea by Gilliam, careful not to touch him.
Taking the tray, she went back into the kitchen followed by Darrin.
"You did good this time," he told her. "Gilliam should be pleased."
They waited at a table in the kitchen for Gilliam to conclude his
business.
"Splendid!" Gilliam said as he entered the kitchen. "Sweet Eliza,
tell me!"
"His merchandise is very high quality. He's not making much of a
profit on this deal. He's vain, pompous, and arrogant," she stated.
"I thought so, but I needed to make sure," Gilliam said. "Darrin,
put her in the guest room. Let her have a book or two; she deserves it.
Oh, and Darrin, get the carriage ready. We're going to be taking a trip
to Magnus."
Kenna
Main Street
Nicodemus walked with his parents down Kenna's main street. He
remembered a few years ago when Kenna wasn't big enough to have a main
street. The Kenna family had picked a good place to build a stopping
port for the river boats. The place had grown slowly at first, but when
a few of the farmers brought their goods to the Kenna family to sell,
the town grew rapidly. More boats started docking and buying local goods
to take to Dargon City to sell. Merchants opened businesses on Kenna's
land and the area became a village. Now though, Kenna could be called a
town. Nicodemus looked around in wonder as he noticed many new shops,
inns, and streets. "And the people!" he thought. Maybe it was just
because of the festival, but there were a great number of people in
Kenna.
A crowd had gathered in the middle section of main street.
Nicodemus grabbed his father's sleeve and pointed to the crowd.
"I'd like to see what's so popular, too, Nicodemus," his father
replied. "Delia, are you coming?"
"I'm going to the store. I haven't seen Mariel in some time, and
since I don t see her around, she's most likely to be there," Delia
answered.
"We'll be over here, then," Hank said pointing to the crowd. "Come
on Nicodemus, let's see what's so exciting." Nicodemus and his father
walked to the outside of the crowd. It took them a few moments to make
their way far enough in to see. There was a man in the center. The crowd
had given him some space, and he was jumping around. No, Nicodemus
corrected himself. He was doing more than just jumping around.
Nicodemus' eyes opened wide in disbelief as the man jumped, rolled, and
did many flips in the air. Nicodemus couldn't believe that anyone was
capable of doing what the man did. He would run a short distance, jump
in the air, and do two or three flips before landing on his feet. The
man moved to one side of the crowd. He flipped forward again and again
until he was right in front of the crowd on the other side. The crowd
tried to move back, but Nicodemus saw that there was no need. The man
flipped to his feet right in front of the crowd and instead of flipping
forward, he did a high backward flip to land on his feet. The crowd
cheered.
"Truly amazing, isn't it Nicodemus," his father said. Nicodemus
nodded assent as he tried to hear what the flipping man said.
"... jumps, flips ... show, another one is set for tomorrow ...
Balor ..." was all Nicodemus could catch because the crowd was noisy.
Nicodemus watched as the man -- Balor something, he guessed -- left and
Elijah Kenna stepped in. The crowd quieted.
"What an amazing show! That was Balor Hardwin, friends and folk. I
want to thank everyone again for coming to our first annual anniversary
of becoming a village. Now, we didn't have a set day that we started
calling this place the village of Kenna, but me and the wife decided to
celebrate the growth of this place with our marriage anniversary.
"The next performance that we have for you is from three very
special young women. They've traveled all the way from Magnus to sing
for us ..."
Nicodemus couldn't believe his luck. There was going to be singing.
He wondered what kind of songs they were going to sing. He had heard a
man sing in an inn one day, but the only woman he had ever heard sing
was his mother. She sang short verses of songs that her mother had
taught her. She always had trouble remembering all of the song, so she
mostly sang the chorus and a small bit of the verse. Nicodemus'
attention shifted back to the center of the circle as the three women
entered it. Two of them looked a lot alike, and he concluded that they
must be sisters. The third woman stepped in front of the other two.
They hummed separately, briefly, before they started. Their humming
blended together and then the woman in front began to sing. Her voice
was rough and a little deep, but she sang well. She was singing a ballad
of some sort and the two sisters were echoing some of the words behind
her. It was a song about some people and their deeds in the war. The
ballad suited her voice Nicodemus decided. When the song ended, the
crowd haloo-ed.
One of the sisters stepped forward. She was thinner and taller than
the other one. He wished he would have listened more closely and gotten
their names. "Silly chipmunk," he chided himself. The sister cleared her
throat and began. She sang a quick tempoed ditty. Her voice was high and
sharp. She danced around as she sang. The two in the back twirled around
and grabbed each others hands as they danced.
When she was done singing, the three of them sang a ballad
together. Nicodemus couldn't quite hear what the last woman's voice was
like. The other two covered her voice up most of the time. When they
were finished, the crowd haloo-ed again. The third woman stepped forward
and the other two took a step back behind her.
When she started singing, Nicodemus was instantly enchanted. Her
voice was soft and melodious. There was a haunting echo in it and she
sounded like two people singing at the same time. The other women were
humming in the background to match her singing. Her voice seemed to
stretch from her soul and waft out to embrace him. She was singing a
slow sad song about the children caught in the attack on Magnus. Her
voice cried out in tears as she sang about children dying. She sang of
Stevene looking on Magnus and of his sadness at the cruelties of men.
She sang from the depths of her soul and when she was done, silence
covered the area.
Nicodemus sighed and found himself leaning forward as if to catch
her every word. He settled back and knew that if he could speak, he
would ask her to sing again. The crowd shuffled and whispers could be
heard. The woman turned and walked away. The crowd parted to let her
through and the other two women followed. Elijah walked into the open
circle.
"Brings tears to yer eyes, it does. While we set up for the
wrestling, we have horse races on the other end of town that are going
to start soon. There's gambling on the ship from Magnus -- sorry, I
forgot her name. You can't miss it, though. It's the biggest one there.
And for you young, strong men, the wrestling contest starts right here
as soon as we can clear the crowd out some."
The crowd slowly broke up. Nicodemus stood where he was and let the
woman's last song replay in his mind.
"That was sad," Delia said from behind them. Nicodemus turned
around and saw his mother with a basket in her hands. His father turned
also, and then took the basket from her.
"There's horse races starting up," his father said. "Care to watch
them, Delia?"
"Yes, but no gambling," she replied. "And we can t stay long into
the night."
"No, I don t want to stay late, either."
Kenna
North side of town
"There's something going on in Kenna, sir," Darrin said.
"What?" Gilliam asked.
"I don't know. There are a lot of people standing in the middle of
the road. We won't be able to get through them, though. There should be
side roads to go around them, sir," Darrin answered.
"No, I'm curious," Gilliam said. "Kenna was just an annoyance on
the road before. If there is something here to draw these people, I want
to know. I had heard some merchants mention Kenna before, but they
weren't important people and I dismissed their conversations. I remember
them and it looks like I may have to pay them a visit when I get back."
"Shall we stop the carriage here, then?" Darrin asked and at a nod
from Gilliam, he turned to the driver and said, "Mick, we'll stop here."
"Eliza, would you like to accompany us," Gilliam asked. Elizabeth
looked at him and decided that his request was genuine.
"Yes," she answered.
"You'll give us no trouble?" Gilliam asked.
"No," she said.
"Good! Darrin will accompany you as always, though," he told her.
The three of them climbed out of the carriage and walked toward the
slowly dispersing crowd.
"Whatever it was, we must have just missed it," Darrin said.
"Excuse me, what happened," Gilliam asked a man who had come from
the crowd.
"You didn't hear that?" the man asked incredulously.
"No," Gilliam said impatiently. "We just arrived."
"You missed the most beautiful singin' I ever heard," the man said.
"This is Kenna's annual festival and Elijah's brought in some performers
from all over --"
"Thank you, Gilliam said interrupting the man. Is there an inn
here?"
"Two of them. The River's Edge is just over there," he said
pointing. "The other one's on down the road. It's a little more costly,
though. The name of it is the Wayside Retreat."
"I believe that's the one we want," Gilliam said as he started
walking down the road. "Darrin, take Eliza and bring the carriage. Get
rooms for us. I'll be along shortly. I want to find out more about this
Kenna. It may prove a better route for shipping our merchandise."
Elizabeth walked back to the carriage with Darrin. She looked at
the village as they rode to the Wayside Retreat. It was a small village
but there were so many people here that she wondered what was special
about it. She could only guess that being on the Coldwell river at the
edge of the Darst Range brought in farmers and trappers with their
goods.
The Wayside Retreat was a fairly nice inn for being in a small
village. It wasn't as nice as some of the inns in Dargon City or Magnus,
but it had an air of home about it. The only problem was that all the
rooms were taken.
"I'm sorry sir, but all the rooms are full," the innkeeper said.
"You know of no one leaving soon?" Darrin asked.
"No sir, I don't. Most of the guests are here for the festival."
"I need two rooms. One of the rooms must have two beds in it. I'll
pay you a silver more if you can get two adjoining rooms for me," Darrin
told the innkeeper. The innkeeper's eyes widened slightly.
"If you can wait but a moment, I'll check on some of my guests. I
think a few of them are almost ready to depart." Gilliam showed up
before the innkeeper's return and found them sitting at a table waiting.
"The inn is full?" Gilliam asked and Darrin nodded. "How much?"
"A silver," Darrin answered. Gilliam sat and contemplated Darrin's
answer for a moment.
"Acceptable. It's an interesting town and may prove useful. Offer
two silver if you need to," Gilliam said. "Have you ordered food?"
"Yes. They had a busy evening and had to prepare more food. I've
ordered us some stew. And a wine for you," Darrin told him.
"Wine?" Gilliam asked in surprise. "They have wine here?"
"Only one kind. A local farmer makes it. I thought you would want
to try it."
They were halfway through their meal when the innkeeper finally
returned. He told them that two guests had suddenly decided to stay
elsewhere and two adjoining rooms had opened up. After paying for the
rooms plus a silver, the innkeeper sent a boy to take their bags to the
rooms.
"The food was rather good," Gilliam said as he finished his meal.
"The wine, however, was not. Eliza, shall we retire for the night?"
"It wouldn't matter if I said no, would it?" Elizabeth asked.
"No, it wouldn't," Gilliam answered. "Would you rather have me just
order you around?"
"It is what you do normally, be it a question or a command," she
replied.
"In the years that we have been together, you still impress me.
There's a fire in you that I doubt I could contain. If you weren't so
valuable, I would try, though there may come a day when you aren't so
valuable, Eliza. Remember that," Gilliam warned. "Now come, we're
retiring for the night." Gilliam got up from the table and went to his
room. There were two beds in the room. He moved his bed to where it was
in front of the door.
"It is the same as always when we're on the road, Eliza. You have
your own bed as long as you don't try to escape. If you do try, you'll
sleep next to me. Are we clear on that?"
"Yes," she said as she crawled into the bed in her clothes. She had
gotten used to sleeping in them rather than give him any pleasure. It
was awhile before she heard Darrin enter his room. She could tell he was
drunk and that he wasn't alone. She decided that there was one advantage
to being in Gilliam's room while they were traveling.
The next day turned out beautiful. They had gotten up late and
Gilliam had even given her some privacy to freshen up. She washed and
changed clothes while Darrin stood outside the door.
"Eliza, I'm coming in," he told her. She smiled as she waited for
him to open the door. Ever since she had hit him with a table leg, he
was cautious entering her room. She was sitting on the bed as the door
swung open. Darrin looked in at her and then waved her out. They ate a
large breakfast and then went outside. The activities had started and
they made their way toward it.
They made their way to the crowd, and Gilliam seemed genuinely
interested in the town. She could tell he was thinking of how to turn
the town into a profit for him. As they approached the center of town,
she saw a man doing flips and rolls to one side. He wasn't part of the
main activity (she couldn't see what that was because of people), but he
looked to be practicing for it. She watched as Gilliam walked toward the
man. Darrin was looking at some woman in the crowd and he didn't notice
the man, either. She didn't know what to do. Should she warn Gilliam
that he was walking right into the flipping man's path? She decided not
to and waited for the outcome.
Gilliam walked right into the man as he landed from a flip. Both
went down tangled together. She watched as Darrin reacted and reached
for the man. Her brain screamed, "Run!". She did. She ran as fast as she
could.
"After her!" she heard Gilliam shout. She glanced back and saw the
flipping man and Darrin get tangled up just as Gilliam had. She had no
time to wonder about her strange luck as she turned a corner and ran.
There weren't many buildings, but she used them as cover as she headed
out of town. She didn't know where to go, but anywhere was better than
with Gilliam. She gave a silent thanks to the flipping man when she
stopped running. She didn't know where she was, but she knew that she
was safe. More importantly, she was free.
The Thorne's Farm
A few leagues outside Kenna
It was late when they reached their home, and Nicodemus decided to
stay overnight. His parents readied themselves for bed quickly, and he
was awake long after they were asleep. He replayed the songs in his mind
over and over again until sleep finally overtook him.
"Nicodemus?" his mother called and the sound brought with it the
smell of freshly baked bread. He smiled, stretched, and got out of bed.
Standing, he realized that he had slept in his clothes from yesterday.
"There's water in the basin for you," his mother said. She must
have checked on him earlier this morning. He found the basin of water in
the main room and took it to his bedroom. After washing, he changed to a
clean set of clothes and joined his mother in the kitchen. His father
had gotten up earlier to get ready for work in the fields and was gone.
Nicodemus knew that both of his parents had eaten then, so he ate
breakfast alone while his mother sewed.
"Nico, are you leaving today?" his mother asked. He nodded yes.
"Your father thought you would. He gives his love," she told him and
stopped sewing to look at him. Nicodemus nodded and placed both hands
over the middle of his chest. "I'll tell him," she said and started
sewing again. He watched her sew as he ate breakfast. She looked like
she was making a shirt for his father. It was a sturdy, rough material
and she cut out large sections of it to sew -- much too large to fit
her.
When he finished, he went to his room and packed. His mother came
in and gave him some biscuits and smoked meat. She hugged him once and
then went back to her sewing. She never did like good-byes. Nico took
his pack and walked outside. The sun was just above the horizon and it
looked to be the start of a beautiful day. He started walking for the
foot of the mountains, mentally humming the songs from yesterday.
The ground was getting hilly, and he followed a stream that came
from deep in the mountains. He had traveled this way back to his cabin
many times and it was almost second nature to him. Because of this and
because he was remembering the singing, he wasn't watching where he was
going very carefully. As he topped a hill, he almost ran into a woman.
She was looking back over her shoulder and didn't see Nico in front of
her. Her clothes were dirty and torn, her hair was tangled with bits of
leaves in it, and her arms had long, thin red scratches. Nico was about
to step out of her way, but she tripped in his direction. He put his
arms out to catch her when she turned her head around. Her arms went
forward automatically to protect herself, but when she saw Nico, her
eyes went wide and she tried to pull her arms in. She got them halfway
back to her body before she fell into him. Nico saw fear and horror in
her eyes as she fell. He didn't mean to scare her, but he couldn't just
let her fall on the ground and hurt herself. As he caught her, he
watched the terror leave her eyes and then she passed out.
The Darst Range
A few leagues outside Kenna
Elizabeth knew she had been lucky to get away from Gilliam, but now
she was in the wilderness and lost. She had never been in the forest
before and she jumped at every sound. When a deer had bolted from right
beside her, she screamed, tripped, and fell down the hill into a briar
patch. Cursing her luck, she picked the thorns out of her skin and
continued on in a direction that she hoped was away from Kenna.
Night fell and she found a level place to sleep. She curled up into
a ball and settled in for the night. When an owl hooted, she bolted
upright. Just when she settled back down, a branch broke close to her.
She could hear something walking in the darkness, but she couldn't see
it. As the noise of the animal faded away, Elizabeth relaxed slightly.
When she started to fall asleep again, the owl came back and woke her.
It continued throughout the night, and when morning came, she hadn't
gotten much sleep.
When the sun came into view, she started walking again. She didn't
really want to go out of the mountain because she knew that Gilliam
would be in the valley looking for her, but she knew that she couldn't
stay here long, so she started making her way down to the valley. As she
walked through the forest, she felt like she was being watched. She
looked around, but didn't see anything. The feeling never left her, and
she would periodically look around. It was at one of these times that
she tripped. She started to fall, and when she turned her head back to
the front, she saw a man standing there. His arms were out to catch her.
More than the fear that he was connected to Gilliam was the fact that
she was going to touch him.
"No!" her mind screamed. She tried to pull back but it was too
late. She felt the familiar jolt go through her. "... can't let her hurt
herself," she heard him think. She prepared herself for what was to
follow next -- his emotions. A wave of something washed over her, but it
wasn't what she had expected. Instead of rough, raw emotions, she got
something warm, soft, and relaxed. It was as if she was floating on a
cloud that softly wrapped itself around her to protect and comfort her.
She felt safe in that cloud, so she gave in to it and passed out in its
loving embrace.
========================================================================
Mute's Song
Part 2
by Mark A. Murray
<dragonmark@usa.net>
Duchy of Dargon, Yule 1015
Part 1 of this story appeared earlier in this issue
The Darst Range
A few leagues outside Kenna
Nicodemus cradled the woman in his arms and then gently laid her on
the ground. He didn't know who she was or what she was running away
from, but when she tripped into his arms, he saw fear in her eyes. As he
knelt beside her, he felt a presence in his mind. It was an animal -- a
very dangerous one -- that was near. It was hungry and was watching
them. He wondered if this animal was the cause of her fear. Nicodemus
looked around and did not see anything in the forest, but he knew that
the animal was close.
"Friend," he thought hoping that whatever was out there would leave
them alone. He had always been able to hear what an animal was thinking
and to send his thoughts to the animal. He didn't know how he talked to
the animals, just that he thought of images, he thought of the animal,
and it understood him.
As he looked around, he saw several birds flying around and
singing. A tree rat hopped out from some brush and started moving toward
Nicodemus. He jumped, because his first thought was that
it was
dangerous. He knew differently, though, since the thoughts he got from
the dangerous animal were separate from the thoughts he got from the
tree rat, and the tree rat was very small and skittish. It couldn't
possibly be dangerous.
Suddenly, there was a blur of movement. Nicodemus stood frozen in
amazement as he stared at a very large wolf. He hadn't heard or seen the
wolf move; there had been just a blur as the wolf had snapped up the
tree rat in its mouth. There was a crunching of bones as the wolf chewed
and then swallowed the rat.
The wolf had black fur with grey streaking through it, especially
around the muzzle, scars on its body, and one torn ear. As it turned
toward Nicodemus, he saw intelligence behind the wolf's eyes. The wolf
growled and walked toward him. It was challenging him in some way, but
Nicodemus didn't fully understand how. He could hear no thoughts coming
from the wolf, but he could feel its presence in his mind. He watched as
the wolf walked closer. The wolf growled, wrinkled its muzzle back, and
bared its teeth.
"Friend," Nicodemus thought hopefully as he stared into the large
jaw. He knew he had no chance against the wolf, but he didn't shy away.
The wolf stopped in front of him, lowered its head, and sniffed the
woman. Nicodemus froze and watched it from the corner of his eyes. The
danger was still there, Nicodemus knew, but he also knew that the wolf
would not attack them. While he still couldn't hear any thoughts from
the wolf, he noticed that the wolf wasn't outright threatening them. Its
ears were forward and alert to sounds, it wasn't baring any teeth, and
it moved in a smooth relaxed manner. The wolf gave a low mumbling growl
as it turned to walk back to where it had appeared. It looked back
before it moved into the brush. Nicodemus saw that it looked at the
woman and not him.
Nicodemus watched it disappear into the woods and felt its presence
fade as it moved away from them. Only when he could no longer feel the
presence, did he move. Standing, he wiped the sweat from his face.
He had come across bears, devil cats, packs of dogs, and other
predators before, but none of them had been as dangerous as this lone
wolf. All of the predators he had seen had shied away from him and he
had sensed their fears of him. This wolf had shown no traces of fear. He
had even come across a small pack of wolves, but they had run from him
before he got very close. He hadn't even seen the wolf kill the tree
rat. It had all happened in the blink of an eye.
The woman moaned and began to stir. Nicodemus looked down and
watched as her eyelids opened. He smiled and stepped back as she sat up.
"Who are you?" she asked. Nicodemus pointed at his throat, opened
his mouth, and shook his head. A whisper of air escaped his throat.
"You can't talk?" she asked.
He nodded yes.
"Do you live around here?"
He nodded.
"I got lost in the forest," she said as she stood. "Could you show
me the way to the nearest village?"
He nodded and pointed in the direction of his parents' farm. He
turned and began walking that way with the woman following him. They got
to the house and Nicodemus opened the door. Hearing the door, his mother
came from the kitchen to see who it was.
"What are you doing back -- Oh!" Delia broke off the question when
she saw the woman beside Nicodemus. "Who are you?"
"I don't normally look this way," Elizabeth said, taking a twig out
of her hair. "My name is Elizabeth. I ... I was lost in the forest. I
guess I wasn't watching where I was going when I tripped and fell into,
um ... I don't know his name."
"Nicodemus, and I'm Delia. Come in to the kitchen and I'll fix some
tea. There's a wash basin in here where you can wash some of that dirt
away." Elizabeth followed her into the kitchen with Nicodemus right
behind.
"Some men came by here not long ago," Delia said fixing the tea.
"They were looking for a woman, and offered a reward for her return.
They were looking for you, weren't they?"
"Yes."
"Why are they looking for you?" Delia asked.
"I was being held against my will by a wealthy merchant from
Dargon," Elizabeth replied. "I know it sounds bad, but it's the truth. I
want you to know why I need help. I escaped from Gilliam -- he's the
merchant -- in Kenna, and ran into the forest. He wants me back, and I
doubt he'll ever stop looking." Elizabeth sighed as she looked down into
the water in the wash basin. She caught her reflection and stared at it.
The dirt on her face and her matted hair made the reflection look like a
stranger to her.
"I don't know what to do or where to go," she said finally. "He has
contacts in most towns. No matter where I go, he'll eventually find me.
I think my safest choice is to stay outside of the towns. He rarely goes
into the fields or mountains, but he'll send other people to search
them."
"I'm not going to stop working just to go to Kenna and tell those
men you are here. If there's no dinner, I'll never hear the end of it
from Hank -- my husband. You're welcome to stay the night," Delia said.
"That is, if you don't mind helping me out with some of the work around
here. Stevene knows I could use it. Can you cook or sew?"
"Both," Elizabeth answered. "Thank you for letting me stay."
"When Hank gets home," Delia replied, "he can decide to let you
stay longer -- or not. Nicodemus," Delia said turning to him, "go clean
up your room and get the blankets. We'll wash them and Elizabeth can
sleep in there. You ... well, we'll find someplace for you to sleep."
"I'll help wash the blankets," Elizabeth said, and followed
Nicodemus to his room. They gathered the blankets and went outside to
the back of the house. There was a small well where they gathered
buckets of water to pour in a large wooden tub.
"You caught me as I fell, didn't you?" Elizabeth asked. Nicodemus
nodded yes and dumped a bucket of water in the tub. Elizabeth remembered
the feelings she had before she passed out, and started to reach for
Nicodemus. She remembered a peaceful and warm feeling when she was in
his arms, yet she couldn't remember what he was thinking. Ever since she
was a child roaming the streets of Dargon, she had always known what
people were thinking and feeling when she touched them. But she couldn't
remember his thoughts before she passed out in his arms, only the
feelings.
Before she could touch him, she jerked her hand back in fear. "What
if those feelings weren't from him?" she thought. "What if it was just
my being exhausted?"
Nicodemus watched her in puzzlement, and then turned to get more
water. Elizabeth sighed and started to soak a blanket. As Nicodemus got
the water, Elizabeth instinctively kept out of his way and his touch.
While washing the blankets, she did the same. After hanging them to dry,
they both returned to the house. Two cups of tea were on the table
waiting for them, and Delia had returned to her sewing.
"The garden needs to be hoed," Delia told Nicodemus. He sighed,
took his cup, and went back outside. He knew she wanted him out of the
house so that she could talk to Elizabeth alone.
"You want to know all about me, don't you?" Elizabeth asked after
Nicodemus left.
"Yes," Delia answered. "I want to know so I can decide what to do
if those men come back."
"A merchant in Dargon was holding me against --"
"What merchant?" Delia interrupted. "Why was he holding you?"
"His name is Gilliam Hytheworde. He kept me because there were
things I could do that no one else could. Things that helped him in his
business."
"Nothing is simple with you, is it?" Delia asked.
"No," Elizabeth said. "I can tell what people are thinking when I
touch them. That's the curse that I've been carrying ever since I was
little."
"Thoughts?"
"Yes."
"I ... I'd like to know for sure," Delia said. "Do you mind?"
"Let me have your hand." Elizabeth said, moving over to where Delia
sat. She braced herself for the rush of emotions she knew she would get
and then touched Delia's hand. She jumped slightly at the initial shock.
"Does she really know what I'm thinking?" Delia thought.
"Does she really know what I'm thinking?" echoed Elizabeth, and
then Delia's emotions flooded her. She was braced for them, but what she
got wasn't what she had expected. There were no invading emotions, but
instead there was calmness, wonder, and a trace of fear. She missed part
of what Delia had thought in her own amazement.
"... husband's name is Hank," Delia thought.
"Husband's name is Hank,"
"No," Delia hissed. Her chair upset as she backed away from
Elizabeth. Delia's eyes were wide and she rubbed her hands against her
apron, trying to clean them of some invisible dirt. "No more," she
repeated.
"Gilliam kept me and used me," Elizabeth tried to explain. "He used
me," she reiterated. "I would find out what the people he was dealing
with were thinking. If I didn't comply, he would lock me in a small
empty room for days. Sometimes he would let Darrin touch me. That was
worse than the room."
"I'm sorry," Delia said. "It's just that I don't like magic, and
... and I was rude. You seem to have been through enough that I don't
need to add more suffering to it." Delia smoothed out her apron and
moved the chair so she could sit in it once again. The chair wasn't as
close to Elizabeth as it had been, though.
"Thank you," Elizabeth replied. She went around the table and sat
across from Delia.
"How long were you there?"
"I don't remember how long, but I do remember that I was a child
living on the streets when Gilliam found me. I was begging and not doing
very well. I could always tell what people thought when I touched them,
so I thought I could make some money that way. For a Common, I'd tell
them what they were thinking. Gilliam came to me and I did what I said.
He was impressed enough to give me five Commons. That evening, he sent
someone to get me."
"To get you?" Delia asked.
"Two men came and dragged me off the street."
"You didn't fight back?"
"I tried, but it was useless. There weren't any town guards around,
either."
"You never ran away from him?"
"He kept me locked in a room most of the time. I would run away,
and he would catch me. The punishments always came ... quickly. But when
I was good, he would reward me in some way -- nice clothes, good
dinners, things like that -- but I still tried to run away. He finally
bribed me -- he told me that if I didn't try to run away, that he would
teach me to read and write and that he would give me a job in his
business; something other than touching people to find out what they're
thinking."
"Sounds like a merchant," Delia snapped. "Bartering and bribing is
all they know how to do."
"I believed him," Elizabeth said. "For awhile, I ... did what he
wanted, and in return, he taught me to read and write. Much later, I
finally realized that he wasn't going to ever let me go. I was too
important to him, and that's when I started trying to run away again. I
finally made it, and now I don't know where to go."
"We'll talk to Hank when he comes home," Delia said. "I'm not
promising anything. Hank's a bit of a hard man, except where Nico is
concerned. But I think he'll let you stay for a bit. Nico seems to like
you." Delia smiled when she saw Elizabeth's eyes widen.
Kenna
Wayside Retreat
"No one's seen her," Darrin told Gilliam.
"She can't be too far," Gilliam said. "She doesn't know the area,
she's not used to being on her own, and she doesn't have anywhere to
go."
"Do you want me to make another search of the farms?"
"No. I want you to find help here in this area. There has to be
hunters and trappers. Find them and use them to track her down."
"I don't understand?" Darrin asked.
"Hunters track animals in the woods, don't they? Trappers do
sometimes when an animal gets away from a trap. Tracking an animal isn't
much different than tracking a lost woman in the forest."
"I understand now."
"Good! There is one more thing that I want you to do. You are to
break her spirit. I don't care what you do so long as you don't kill
her."
"I'll find her," Darrin said, smiling as he left.
The Darst Range
A few leagues outside Kenna
Darrin had found two people in Kenna who hunted and trapped for a
living. One of the two men in front of Darrin had a large dog on a
leash. The dog kept its head to the ground as it ran.
"You sure that dog can find her?" Darrin asked, trying to keep up.
"She'll find her. My Ferra can find anything, anywhere," Petyr, the
man holding the dog, said. Petyr was a tall man with many scars and
scratches on his body. He had brown hair that was cut short and his face
was clean-shaven.
"It's been near two days since she ran," Darrin said.
"Ferra's found men five days after a thunderstorm covered their
trail. Don't you worry, we'll find her."
"Heh!" Garett spouted. "Twas two days after a light rain." He was
the second man that Darrin had found. He was a big man, although not as
large as Darrin, and wore a sword and long knife on his belt in worn,
well-used scabbards. He had light-colored hair with a scraggly beard.
"We'd better find her," Darrin replied. The pace they kept was a
near run. Ferra only stopped when she seemed to lose the scent, and even
then it wasn't long before she started off again. They climbed into the
mountains and followed Ferra as she led them to a place that looked like
it had been a small camp. It was old, but the sticks and rocks were
still brushed aside and a pile of branches lay in the center, unburned.
"Could have been her," Garett said. "Someone tried to make a fire.
Doesn't look like they did, though. No ashes or burned wood anywhere
around."
"Looks to be a week or so old. Not more'n two weeks, I'd guess,"
Petyr said. "It'd be about the right time. I'd say it was her that was
here. Come on," he said as Ferra pulled him along, "she's got the
scent." The two men had little trouble keeping up with Ferra. They'd
done this many times. Darrin, however, wasn't used to running through
the mountains and had a rough time keeping up with them.
They ran through the woods as Ferra followed the scent up and down
the mountain. There was no pattern to the trail they were following.
Petyr and Garett knew that the girl had been lost -- experience told
them so. It was on a downward slope that Ferra stopped. The woods had
cleared a little on top of a small hill. Ferra circled around a clump of
grass, sniffed left, right, and then went down the hill a bit. She came
back up to follow a second trail around the hill.
"At least two trails here," Petyr said. "Looks like she's been in
this area more than once. Which one, Ferra?" The dog looked up at Petyr
and cocked its head.
"Which one's freshest?" Petyr said, unleashing the dog. "Scent!"
Ferra stood, looked both ways, put her nose down, sniffed at two trails,
and then sat back down.
"Looks like we'll have to decide," Petyr told them. Before anyone
could choose, they heard a female voice off in the distance. They
couldn't make out the words, only that it sounded female.
"Could be her," Petyr said. "Not many females out in these woods.
Chances are it's her -- or some high pitched boy."
"Trail along the hill?" Garett asked.
"I think so," Petyr replied. "Let's go." Petyr started Ferra on the
trail and she took off with Garett and Darrin following. The trail wound
along the hillside through the forest to open into another clearing. As
Petyr broke into the clearing, he saw two people in front of him -- a
man and a woman. The woman, he hoped to be the one they were after, but
he didn't know about the man standing to her right.
He told Ferra to sit, but didn't get to do much more as Garett and
Darrin ran into the clearing behind him. He saw the girl's eyes go wide,
and she ran.
Petyr, Garett, and Ferra chased after the girl. Darrin, not wanting
to be left behind, took off down the path where the others had run. The
man, who had been standing to the girl's right, looked puzzled and
confused.
Petyr and Garett raced through the brush. The girl wasn't watching
where she was going as she ran into a large patch of thick brambles. She
was just getting free of them when Petyr grabbed her. They were binding
her hands when Darrin found them.
"Eliza," Darrin huffed. "You shouldn't have run away. Gilliam is
not happy with you. In fact, he's quite angry. Angry enough that I get
to teach you a lesson. A lesson that you will never forget." He started
toward her when Garett stepped in front of him. "What --?"
"You will not touch her," Garett told him. "I don't go for harming
women. You wanted us to bring her back to Kenna. That's what we're going
to do."
Darrin's face turned slightly red as he turned away from Garett to
lean close to Elizabeth. "Later," he whispered to her. "Let's get her
back to Kenna, then," he disgustingly said to Garett.
Nicodemus couldn't believe what he had seen -- what had just
happened. Those had to have been the men searching for her. "But how did
they find her so fast?" he thought. "She must be very important to
someone." He stood there, fixed to the ground, undecided on what to do.
They were going to take Elizabeth back to Dargon, and he knew he
couldn't let them do that. The short time he had spent with Elizabeth
was enough to let him know that she was special. Although she never
talked about her past to him, she also never treated him like he was
dumb because he couldn't talk. She spoke to him as an equal -- as
another human being. He couldn't let them take her away; he was
beginning to like her. Like her more than just a little, he realized.
But there were three of them. Before he could decide on a course of
action, though, the men returned.
"Are you going to try to stop us?" Garett asked as he stepped in
view. Petyr, Darrin, and Elizabeth were behind him. Nicodemus nodded
yes.
"Just you?" Garett asked smiling. "You're a brave one, I'll give
you that. You do realize --"
Nicodemus wondered why he stopped in the middle of his sentence
until fur brushed his elbow. He looked beside him at the large wolf
standing there. Hackles raised, lips curled back to show large curved
fangs, and a low rumbling growl, the wolf inched forward.
"*Ol's balls!*" Petyr hissed. "Where did that come from?" Garett
grabbed the hilt of his sword, and the wolf's growl grew louder.
"Are you trying to get us killed?" Darrin asked.
"Don't move, Garett!" Petyr pleaded. "That thing'll tear you in two
before you can scream in pain."
"Look at it!" Garett hissed! "It's going to kill us no matter what
we do." Garett started drawing his sword from its scabbard. The wolf
sprang with a loud snarl. It knocked Petyr down and then turned to
Garett. Darrin moved out of the way as fast as he could and prayed that
Garett would kill it, but not wanting to stay and find out, he kept
running.
The wolf started to jump as Garett stabbed at its head. Faster than
Garett could react, the wolf dropped low, turned a bit, and lunged. Its
mouth closed around Garett's side and there was a crack as its maw
closed, crushing ribs. Garett cried out and dropped his sword from the
pain. The wolf snapped again and tightened its grip. Garett screamed and
tried to pull away. The wolf twisted and knocked Garett down where it
ripped open his throat.
Petyr got up, looked at Garett's bleeding body, and started to run;
Ferra was nowhere to be seen. He ran a few steps before a large weight
crashed onto his back. Dirt flew into his eyes as he hit the ground. He
didn't see the large jaws go around his head, but he felt them as they
crushed his skull.
Nicodemus watched everything in horror. The wolf had torn the two
men to shreds with little effort. It could have been Elizabeth and him
when they had first encountered the wolf. He hadn't realized just how
close to death that they had been until now. The wolf turned from where
Petyr lay and walked towards Elizabeth. She stood there paralyzed with
fear. Her hands were tied, but her feet were not -- still she didn't
run. She knew she could not outrun the wolf.
Nicodemus watched the wolf and saw its features change. The hackles
went down, there were no bared teeth, and it seemed more relaxed. He
hoped that they were in no danger, now. The wolf got close to Elizabeth
and sniffed. It licked her hand once and then turned to look at
Nicodemus.
"Friend," he got from the wolf, but there was something about it.
It was in a tone laden with sarcasm and contempt. It was like the wolf
was far above him, knew more about the world, and was laughing at him.
Sarcasm, contempt, and a deriding tone -- but no anger. He started to
reply, but the wolf was gone. It had slipped back into the forest
quietly and quickly.
Nicodemus walked over to Elizabeth and started to untie her hands.
She jumped slightly as he touched her, but he was too busy with the knot
to pay attention to it. He got the knot undone, freed her hands, and
looked up into her face. She was crying. He lifted his hand to wipe the
tears from her face when she took his hand in hers. He saw her jump
slightly, but then she smiled as she held his hand in hers.
"You are so beautiful," he thought. "I wish I could say that I love
you."
"You can," she said.
"What?" he thought.
"I can hear what you're saying," she told him. "It's a curse that I
have. I can feel people's emotions and hear their thoughts when I'm
touching them."
"You can hear me?" he thought, incredulously.
"Yes. And I love you, too," she said as she hugged him close.
========================================================================
