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DargonZine Volume 14 Issue 04
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 14
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 4
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DargonZine Distributed: 4/28/2001
Volume 14, Number 4 Circulation: 744
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Contents
Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
Secrets of the Spirit Mark Murray and Sy 1017
Rena Deutsch
Spirits Jim Owens Yule 3, 1017
Undermined Hope Mark A. Murray 1016
========================================================================
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 correspondence to <dargon@shore.net>or visit us
on the World Wide Web at http://www.dargonzine.org/, or our FTP site at
ftp://users.primushost.com/members/d/a/dargon/. Issues and public
discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
DargonZine 14-4, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright April, 2001 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>
Regardless of whether or not you pay much attention to who writes
the stories that appear in DargonZine, I'd like you to take a moment to
join me in recognizing one of our heroes: Mark Murray.
After six years with us, Mark has decided to leave the project, and
his stories which appear in this issue will be the last he sees through
to publication. I've already written quite a bit about Mark's history
with the project in DargonZine 11-9's Editorial, which highlights
several of his accomplishments: being one of our most prolific writers,
as well as contributing to the project by establishing our new writer
mentoring program, helping create new maps of Dargon, and hosting our
2000 Writers' Summit.
But beyond all these things, I'd like to celebrate a different kind
of contribution that Mark has made. At a time when our new writers
sometimes feel that their creativity is hindered by the rules we've
adopted and a huge body of existing knowledge about Dargon, Mark
represents an eloquent counter-argument. In a short time, he's been
remarkably successful at introducing new characters and places to
Dargon, integrating them with the rest of the milieu, and encouraging
other writers to make use of those new elements. But what's noteworthy
isn't the quantity of things he's written into the Dargon milieu, but
their consistent quality. His characters are interesting people whom
we'd like to hear more about, and they've become integral members of the
Dargon cast.
There are lots of examples that should be familiar to you. Mark's
most extensive storyline has been the long-running series about Raphael
and his curse-bearing wife, Megan. Along the way, we've also been
introduced to Anam, the wolf they befriended, their streetwise sidekick
Lylle, and the memorable team of Merrif the wizard and Niatha, his
magical familiar.
Mark also has written a series of stories following two young boys,
Matthew and Ben, as they learn about life in Dargon, and in doing so
Mark has created the widely-known brotherhood of urchins called the
shadow boys.
He has, interestingly enough, given us both Dargon's best and worst
taverns. These inns have been widely used by other writers, and thus
should be readily recognized. Spirit's Haven, where Raphael and Megan
stayed for a time, is run by a kindly woman named May. At the other end
of the spectrum is the Shattered Spear, whose owners Jamis and Jahlena
are notorious for their dealings in prostitution, extortion, and many
other types of unsavory behavior.
Most recently, Mark took the point in creating a town called
Northern Hope, which was founded by refugees fleeing their
Beinison-occupied homeland. Mark's "Undermined Hope" in this issue, as
well as his "Beginning Morals" which appeared in our previous issue, are
the first two stories to use this location, setting the groundwork for
another way for our writers to collaborate and learn from one another.
So although Mark wrote a lot and undertook a number of side
projects to help DargonZine thrive, I think the thing that really makes
him one of our heroes is his demonstrated knack for coming up with
memorable characters and places, and his enthusiasm for sharing those
creations with DargonZine's readers as well as his fellow writers.
Dargon is a vastly richer place because of the contributions his stories
have made over the years, and we'll miss his presence going forward.
========================================================================
Secrets of the Spirit
by Mark Murray and Rena Deutsch
<Mashudo@netzero.net> and <Rena3@hotmail.com>
Dargon, Sy 1017
The rat stood on its hind legs and looked around. Acrid smells
wafting on the night breeze caused the rat to sniff and look into the
wind. Intelligence flared up in its eyes, however, and it dropped down
and ran across the alley.
Staying close to a wall, it ran down the street only to stop
suddenly in front of an inn. Looking up, the rat saw a hanging sign with
letters and a picture. Two men walked towards the door and stopped
before going inside. Normally, the rat would have run, but something
else controlled it, and it stood there silently looking at the letters
on the sign: Spirit's Haven.
"Dumb rat," one man said. "Ought to have 'nuff sense ta run."
The rat squeaked as the words penetrated its brain and were
transmitted across the town into the one who controlled it. He was too
late to respond, though.
A swift boot came down. Crunch. The man across town flung himself
backwards in his chair. "Augh!" he screamed, holding his head between
both hands. Breathing wildly, he rocked back and forth until the pain
cascading throughout his brain settled to a dull throb. "I have got to
remember," he wheezed, "to not pick things that are easily killed."
He reached out with one hand and gripped a long, rune-covered staff
that stood of its own accord next to his chair. Blue lightning crackled
along the staff, traveled up his arm, and jolted into his eyes. He
gasped, bunched his muscles, and then relaxed. "If not for magic ..." he
sighed.
Leaning forward, he gazed into a round glass sphere on a table in
front of him. "Once more into the darkness, old friend," he whispered.
The globe swirled with colors and cleared with a view of the inn. "Time
is of the essence. I can't spare any to find a suitable host. Show me
the nearest creature." The picture in the globe moved as if some person
were walking around the inn. There, one building down on the same street
stood a rat.
"Not another one," he sighed in disgust. "Why is there always a rat
around when you don't want one? Straight! As long as I keep a watch out
for people, I should be fine." Looking at the rat, the room around him
faded away. He swept down to the street and into the rodent.
Looking around, the rat saw no one. It ran as fast as its short
legs could carry it to the door of the inn. Unfortunately, there was no
opening for it to enter. Running around the building to the back, it
found the back door. Sprinting past small heaps of garbage, it ran
straight for the slightly open door. It hit the opening like it was a
brick wall. The rat bounced backwards and rolled into the alley. While
there was space to enter, something had kept the rat out. Shaking its
head and looking closely at the inn, the rat squealed.
"Interesting," the man replied as he leaned back into his chair.
"There is more to this inn than I thought."
"Oh, Nai," Simona said. "Someone's killed a rat." She stepped out
away from it as if it might jump up at any time and scare her. She
brushed her long black hair back away from her eyes.
"If it was looking for a haven, it was headed in the right
direction," Kal said, pointing ahead of them at the inn. His long arms
ended in hands with long, slender fingers. Matched to that was a frame
that bordered on skinny. "Spirit's Haven," he said. "I wonder just how
true that is?"
"Everyone names their inn with some phrase out of the ordinary.
They do that to attract people into their inns. It's good business
sense," Nai answered. The ex-smith had not lost any of his muscular
build even though it had been years since he had worked at the forge.
"Come then, let's walk past the dead and find a haven for our
spirits," Simona replied.
"She has a way with words," Kal chuckled and followed her.
"She's a bard," Nai said, shrugging and walking behind Kal.
Simona shifted the pack on her back and reached for the lever to
open the door. Stepping in, she took a quick look around. It was quiet
inside, only a few people were seated at the tables. A large woman was
serving a guest. Simona noticed a kind look on her face as this woman
approached the group.
"Welcome to Spirit's Haven," the woman greeted them. "I'm May. I
own and run this here inn. What brings ya here?"
"We're looking for a place to sleep for the night," Kal answered.
"Do you have any rooms for my traveling companions and me?"
"I have two rooms," May said and guided them to a table. "Be
seated, while I get ya rooms ready. Would ya like something to drink and
eat while ya wait?"
"I'll have some ale," Kal said.
"I'll have one, too," Nai added and sat down heavily on the chair.
Simona pushed a chair closer to the table, dropped her pack to the
floor, and slid onto the chair. "I'll have some spiced wine," she said.
"Ale, ale, and wine," May repeated as she left to get the drinks.
The three settled into the chairs in quiet relaxation.
May returned with the drinks and placed a tankard in front of each
of her guests. "If ya want food, there's a few barmaids runnin' around.
Get one and let her know. I'll have someone get the rooms ready for ya."
"Thank you, May," Simona said with a smile. Suddenly, she felt
overtired and wanted to go to sleep immediately. She leaned back in her
chair and closed her eyes. The face of a woman with red hair and green
eyes appeared in her mind. She had seen this face many times before and
had no problems identifying it: it belonged to her sister Megan. Ever
since she had been separated from her twin, she'd seen the face in her
mind. It had happened only occasionally at first, but during the past
few years increasingly more frequently. Simona had no control over it.
Tonight was no different. She took the image in and searched for a
hidden message, but to no avail. Yet something was different this time;
Simona felt it more than she saw it. It left her restless.
Yawning, she opened her eyes and found the inn in a buzz of
activity. Part of the inn was cleared of tables and chairs. As two men
were moving the last table, a man came flipping head over heels toward
it. He did a somersault onto the table and landed with his arms wide
open. The two men holding the table grunted, but didn't look surprised.
Before they could drop the table, the man on top leapt upward and did a
lot of spins in the air, only to land on his feet facing the crowd.
"What's happening?" she asked, shifting in her chair to get
comfortable.
"There are performers here tonight on some special occasion," Kal
replied.
"No one would say what the occasion is, but some of the nobles are
here with their children," Nai said, still watching the performers.
Before Simona could ask anything else, the performer spoke.
"I am Balor Hardwin," Balor said, bowing low. From the bow, he
leapt upwards and did a backflip. Landing, he had pulled a set of small
pipes out and brought them to his lips. Playing a ditty, he leapt and
rolled and did flips. Once he was finished, he bowed and pointed to two
men.
The two men came forward and started juggling all sorts of items.
They tossed around balls and bags while moving around each other. Then,
they started tossing the balls and bags to each other all the while
moving around the cleared space. There was always something up in the
air. They spun around in place quickly while catching all the things in
the air until nothing was left.
"Well met good folk," the first man said. "We are Utal and Zali!"
"I'm Utal," the second man said.
"No, I'm Utal!" the first corrected. "You are Zali!"
"Straight! You're Zali!"
"No, no, no!" the first said, a frown upon his face. "I am Utal and
you are Zali and we are going to juggle for these good folk."
"Yes, let me get this right. I'll be with the good folk while you
perform?"
"Augh!" the first man cried, holding his head with both hands. His
movements were very exaggerated. Some in the crowd giggled. "You're
juggling also!"
"So, I juggle and you watch?" the second man asked, a perplexed
look across his face.
"Zali! Do I have to use hand-speak? We are --"
"I thought you were Zali," the second man interrupted. He shifted
slightly to the crowd and winked. Someone laughed.
"No! I'm Utal," the first man said, pointing to his own chest. "You
are irritating sometimes."
"I am not irritating!" Zali proclaimed in a loud voice, turning
towards the crowd. "I am Zali!" he proclaimed, raising his arms above
his head.
"Enough!" Utal shouted.
"Not enough," Zali corrected. "We have yet to start!"
"Start with this," Utal said, tossing a knife, then another at
Zali. Zali turned and caught the first, tossed it into the air as he
caught the second. Twirling the two in the air, he yawned. Bringing a
hand up to cover his yawning mouth, he could be heard to say, "Is this
all?"
"You want more?" Utal asked, eyes wide. "Why, I have a nice sharp
axe here." He took the axe to some people near them and they ran their
hands over the blade. Murmurs of its sharpness echoed about. "Shall I
toss it to him?" Utal asked the crowd.
"Yes," came the answer from various people. Utal tossed the axe to
Zali. Zali caught it and spun it into the twirling knives.
"Utal, I don't know if I can keep this going," Zali said, stumbling
about trying to keep all three objects in the air. He teetered one way
and stumbled another, but still kept juggling. "Here, you can have them
back." He tossed them one at a time to Utal.
"I don't want them," Utal said, stepping back, but catching them.
He spun them in the air just as Zali had. "If you can't juggle them, how
am I supposed to?"
"You look like you're doing well and good," Zali replied. "I'm just
going to wet my thirst. I'll be back in a bell or so."
"No you are not!" Utal yelled. "Here, take them back!" He tossed
them quickly one at a time to Zali.
"I don't want them," Zali said, tossing them back to Utal just as
fast as they came. It became a blurring motion between them.
"Enough!" Utal said, catching each item and holding it. They both
turned to the crowd and bowed. The crowd responded with shouts of "more"
and banging tankards on the tables.
"One last performance," Utal called out to the crowd. "Something
daring, perhaps?" he asked.
"Not the torches," Zali said, holding both hands straight out and
shaking his head no. He turned to the crowd and said, "We can juggle
knives and axes and mugs; just don't ask for the torches!"
"Torches!" and "We want to see the torches," issued forth from the
crowd. Utal smiled and bowed low.
"The torches it shall be," Utal said, moving to get two lit
torches. Zali had his head down and was shaking it.
"Catch!" Utal yelled. Zali moved quickly into position and caught
the thrown torch. Just as quickly, he threw it back only to catch the
second. Soon, a blur of fire was weaving between them.
"Can I join in?" Balor asked, stepping between the two.
"Can you juggle?" Utal asked.
"Well ..." Balor replied, drawing out the answer. He was between
the jugglers and the crowd and was moving back and forth trying to see
the torches in the air.
"Get out of the way!" someone yelled.
"Aye! Move!" someone else grumbled.
"I can't even see a torch," Balor said, ignoring the crowd.
"Perhaps you shouldn't juggle, then," Zali said. His attention was
focused on the juggling.
"The crowd seems displeased by where you are standing," Utal said.
"I would suggest moving."
"I'm blocking the show?" Balor asked, turning around. "Good folk,
am I in your way?"
"Yes," called several from the crowd.
"My apologies. Let me move," Balor said, turning his back to the
crowd once more. Quickly, he stepped through the weaving torches. The
crowd gasped. Whispers and murmurs could barely be heard.
"What?" Balor called out. "I can't hear you!" He stepped through
the ring of flying torches to stand before the crowd again. "Did you say
something?" There was silence. "Ah, begging your pardon, then. I'll go
back to where I was." He turned and walked between Utal and Zali. The
pattern in the air changed.
"It seems we are one torch short, Zali," Utal said.
"It seems so," Zali replied, catching the only torch left and
holding it. Both turned to look at Balor who held the other torch. The
three of them drew closer and faced the crowd. Bowing low, they thanked
everyone and added that any donations would be most appreciated.
"What a performance!" Kal exclaimed.
"Straight!" Nai agreed, pulled a Bit out of his purse, and tossed
it towards Utal who caught it effortlessly.
"I'm tired," Simona yawned.
"You're tired?" Nai laughed, "You're the one who slept at the table
for half a bell!"
"I did not! It couldn't have been more than a mene or two."
"You sure did," Kal said grinning, "I was contemplating whether or
not to carry you to your room."
"Why didn't you? If I was asleep for that long."
"Why? The performers walked in, and I didn't want to miss any.
Besides, what would you have thought if you'd woken in a strange room?"
"Wouldn't have been the first time," Simona mumbled, turned away
and searched the room for May.
"What did you say, Simona?" Nai wanted to know.
"I'm looking for May, or did she tell you where our rooms are?"
Simona replied, ignoring his question.
"She told us while you were asleep. They're up the stairs at the
end of the hallway." Kal got up and briefly touched Simona's arm, then
took a candle from the table. "Let me show you."
Simona picked up her belongings and followed Kal's lead. When they
reached the end of the hallway, Kal opened a door and gestured Simona to
step inside. "This should be your room; Nai and I are in the room next
to yours."
"Thank you, Kal," Simona said as she placed her belongings in a
corner of the room. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Until morning." Kal lit a candle, handed it to Simona, and left.
Simona closed the door, lifted the candle, and took a look around. The
room was sparsely furnished. A bed, a chair, and a table with a
washbasin and candleholder were all, but it was enough. She placed the
candle in the holder on the table. For a moment she thought about the
comfort of the room she'd had at the Bardic College in Magnus and then
dismissed it. "I'm searching for Megan," Simona reminded herself. "Six
long years of searching for any sign of her or mother, and what have I
found so far?" A deep sigh escaped her. Almost automatically her right
hand moved to her head and brushed through her hair. Her fingers grasped
a strand of hair and wrapped it around a finger, only to let it slide
off again. "The place of my early childhood is gone, only ruins where
people used to live. Oh, Megan, where else can I look?"
Simona pulled a blanket off her bed, wrapped it around herself, sat
down, and stared into the candle's flame. She watched as the candle
burned down to half of its original height. Usually, looking into a
candle's flame would help her relax and find sleep, but this night was
different. The vision of her sister had left her restless. She leaned
back, her head touching the wall, and closed her eyes. She could hear
snoring from the room next to hers and smiled. "Only Nai can snore like
that. I wonder if Kal is getting any sleep." Wiggling herself out of the
blanket, she got up and left her room. Uncertain whether to find out if
Kal was awake or not, she stood in front of their room for a mene. She
raised her hand to gently knock, but then decided against it. Instead
she walked towards the main room of the inn. If there had been action
before, no one would have guessed it. The room was almost deserted now.
She stopped in the doorway. May was busy cleaning tables and one of her
barmaids was sweeping the floor. Simona breathed a small sigh of relief.
She wanted to speak with May. Uncertain of how to proceed, she stepped
into the room and approached the woman.
"Ya still awake," May commented as she continued to wipe a table.
"Need anything?"
"I was wondering if I could have something hot to drink and ..."
"Yes?" May interrupted her cleaning and looked straight at Simona.
"I ..." Simona began, not knowing how to ask the question she'd
been wanting to ask May since the moment she'd stepped into the inn.
"This is silly," she thought. "I should be able to just ask her straight
forward." "I ..." she began again, unable to finish her request.
"Ya wanna talk?" May said with a smile on her face.
"Yes, please," Simona nodded.
"Sit down. I'll be back." May gestured Simona to sit at the table
she had just finished cleaning and disappeared into an adjacent room.
The barmaid placed the broom into a corner and followed May. Simona
realized she was alone and shuddered briefly. She felt a brush of cold
air touch her back and turned, but no one was there. "I hope May returns
quickly," she thought, drawing one knee to her chest and wrapping her
arms around it. "What were you trying to tell me, Megan," Simona
whispered to herself, searching her memory for previous visions and
clues, "Why did you appear to me tonight? What is it you want me to do?
Has it something to do with this place? Does it have to do with May?
Does she have answers for me?"
May returned, carrying two mugs containing steaming brew. She
placed one mug in front of Simona. "Here! That'll warm ya." She smiled
at Simona, who took the mug and sipped the hot liquid.
"Thank you." Simona said, looking down into the steam.
May nodded. "Sooo ... Ya gonna talk?"
"I don't know where to begin," Simona finally said after a few
moments of silence. She felt her stomach turn into a knot, drew a deep
breath, and looked at May, who returned her gaze, but remained silent.
Simona took another sip from her mug, then shifted her position.
Summoning all her courage, she started telling her story with a soft
voice. "It's a long story, but I'll try to keep it short. I am searching
for my sister. She's my twin. Haven't seen her since I was six years
old. My uncle came one day and forcefully took me away from my mother
and sister. For a while I was living with my grandparents and then I
entered the Bardic College in Magnus. When I finally left there in
search of my mother and sister, I couldn't find them. There are only
ruins where we used to live. No one seemed to know where they were."
Simona took a deep breath, uncertain whether or not she should continue
on. "I ... I have a connection with my sister. Sometimes I see her in my
mind. She ... I ... I think she needs my help, but I don't know where to
start looking. I came to Dargon hoping to find answers, hoping to find a
place to start looking."
"What's ya sister's name?" May inquired.
"Megan," Simona said and noticed surprise on May's face.
"Describe her! What'd she look like when ya were little?" May
asked, leaning forward. Simona sensed more than curiosity in May's
question.
"She has long red hair and green eyes. Her skin is quite fair and
she has freckles," Simona said, describing the face from her visions.
"She looks like mother," Simona added softly, looking down, and then
spoke up again. "When she was little, she used to get sick a lot."
"She called ya Mona when you were young?" May asked quietly.
"How'd you know?" Simona whispered, trembling. She reached for her
mug with a shaking hand. Several thoughts whirled through her head
simultaneously. "She knows Megan! Seen her! Can tell me about her!"
Excitedly, she shifted her position, leaning slightly forward. "Tell me,
please!" she asked with an undertone of urgency in her voice.
"A young woman named Megan was here for a while, helping me in the
kitchen. We talked about a lot a things. She said, she used to have a
sister, but thought she had died."
Simona stifled a cry of sorrow and joy. Placing her hand over her
mouth and closing her eyes, she fought back tears. "Poor Megan," she
thought, "What must it have been like for her and mother not to know?"
She shuddered when she thought about the agony they must have gone
through and swallowed hard.
"Where is she now?" she asked, looking at May again.
"Megan left here in Firil last year and traveled with my daughter
to Hawksbridge to visit her family."
"Noooo," Simona called out in utter frustration, then mumbled to
herself: "I'm too late." She hid her face behind her hands and let out a
deep sigh.
"Her husband, Raphael, followed her just last month ..." May
continued.
"Megan's married? Any children?" Simona interrupted, wanting to
know more about her sister.
"She is. Quite a story, too. But no children I know of. Now, I
don't have all the details, mind ya. Let me refill our mugs and I'll
tell ya what I know." May returned to the kitchen.
Simona stood up and began pacing, tears of joy running down her
cheek. "She knows! She knows what happened to Megan!" When she heard
footsteps, Simona reached inside her tunic for a handkerchief to dry her
tears. She turned around, expecting to see May, but no one was there. A
cold shiver surged through her body. Automatically, her hands started
rubbing her arms.
"May? Is that you?" Simona called out.
"I'm still in the kitchen. Come join me," May said. Simona didn't
need a second invitation. Quickly, she covered the distance to the
kitchen.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say there is a ghost in your
inn," Simona said as she entered the kitchen.
"It is the Spirit's Haven, dear. Ya never know what old spirit's
lurking around here," laughed May and Simona shuddered. "Here," May
said, handing Simona a mug. "Don't fret the spirits ya can't see, but
guard against the ones ya can.
"Thank you. Please tell me about Megan."
"Straight." May smiled as she gestured Simona to sit down again.
Simona nodded, her fingers clasping tight around the mug.
"I met Megan a few years ago, when her husband, Raphael, brought
her to me," May began. "She was under some kind of curse. She couldn't
walk, 'cept when guided. Couldn't talk or care fer herself. Raphael left
her under my care so he could find a cure. 'Bout two years ago, he broke
that curse. But he got hurt doing it and couldn't walk anymore. We
brought him here and Megan cared for him. During that time she worked in
the kitchen, cooking. Something happened and they had a big fight. Megan
didn't know what ta do, so we talked and she decided ta go home. I sent
my daughter along with her ta keep her company and they left fer
Hawksbridge.
"Raph didn't take that too good. I think he knew he could lose her
and after a few months of exercises and determination, he started ta
walk again. Megan was gone by then and he left the inn. I don't know
why, but I think he didn't want reminded of what had happened here
between them. Through a mutual friend, I kept a watch over him. Last I
knew, him and our friend left here about a month ago ta bring Megan
back. If all goes well, they should be back in the spring."
Simona took a deep breath and tried to control her trembling hands.
She needed some time to herself to sort the information she'd received.
A single tear streaked down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. As
much as she wanted to probe May for more information, Simona decided to
save this for another day. Bidding May good night, she returned to her
room to lay down. She could still hear Nai's snoring through the wall.
Smiling, she fell asleep, the face of her sister in her mind smiling
back at her.
========================================================================
Spirits
by Jim Owens
<Gymfuzz@yahoo.com>
Yule 3, 1017
The air in the storeroom was thick with odors when Pudlong pushed
open the heavy door and stepped inside. In his right hand he carried a
sturdy metal mug, and as he stood in the open doorway he took the
liberty of drawing a hard pull from its contents. He then wiped his
mouth with the sleeve of his left arm as he carefully surveyed the dimly
lit room. Dust specks lazily spiraled upward in the slanted light from
the single, high window. Once he was satisfied that he had seen what the
small warehouse had to offer, Pudlong drew himself up to his full height
of sixteen hands and let out a belch.
A more reflective man might have pondered the wonderful quirks of
life as he picked his way through the casks, sacks, and crates that
littered the warehouse floor. Pudlong's sudden rise to position in the
southern province of Mandraka certainly gave pause to many of his peers,
and indeed to many of his betters. But Pudlong himself was not a man to
engage in undue reflection. He pushed and shoved his way through the
dusty items stored in the keep's smallest storeroom as he made his way
to the wall at the far end of the long, narrow room. He took pains to
ensure that the beverage in his mug was not spilt, even stopping several
times to drink down the level when it came close to sloshing. Once he
reached the far wall he carefully kicked an opening in the clutter, and
shoved a crate against the wall. He retrieved an old blanket from the
floor where it had lain since he had last visited this sanctuary, and
draped it over the crate. Then he sat down and took another drink.
It would be incorrect to say that Pudlong had enjoyed growing up a
peasant. The life of a dirt farmer was hard, and the idea that there was
a better life occurred to Pudlong and his wife many times as they
scratched at the soil of their bean farm. But both were simple folk, and
their concept of ease tended to run mainly toward warmer weather and
fewer weeds. The avenues of Pudlong's mind were straight and short, and
lined with green trees, grassy knolls, and the plain homes of friends
and family. When a magic beanstalk seized Pudlong by the metaphorical
seat of his homespun pants and dragged him into public prominence, his
simple concepts of success followed. The magical power that the
beanstalk granted him had been temporary, meant to last but a season. As
Pudlong was a farmer, that meant a growing season. By fall Pudlong was
as magical as the fields of dirt he used to plow. His master, Lord
Farley, had already elevated him to the local office of high mage,
however, and so that was where Pudlong had stayed.
Having arranged his seat, Pudlong leaned his back up against the
wall and relaxed. He took a swig from the hefty flagon, and knit his
heavy brows together on his forehead. He stared down the length of the
dim warehouse, dully examining the shelves and mounds and piles of old
magical wares. The previous occupant of his high office had been a
mighty mage in deed and name, and had asked that this room be set aside
to store the provisions needed by the province's fledgling magi. The
apprentices in the keep had dragged all their surplus magical supplies
into this room, but had not really organized it. That had been years ago
and the clutter in the room had been steadily added to, not reduced. As
titular head of that corps, Pudlong was looked up to as leader and
guide. The lead apprentice had long ago assumed the role of teacher,
after the former master's passing, so Pudlong was only expected to act
as a shepherd, not sage. Pudlong was comfortable with this role. In so
many ways, tending young magicians was not so much different than
herding goats.
A more learned man might have felt a tremor or two of unease in the
storeroom. Some of the crates were clearly marked with symbols urging
caution in their handling in general, and their opening in particular.
In the far corner, under a heavy pile of blankets and protective
amulets, a collection of especially virulent items were housed. But
Pudlong had only recently been introduced to the concept of reading, and
even then had only made a passing acquaintance with it. He was ignorant
of the exact contents of most of the containers in the warehouse, and in
fact probably wouldn't have cared had he known.
A more educated man might even have been tempted by the legends
emblazoned in the wood of the casks and boxes around him. There was
power in the room. Someone more in tune with the ethereal aspects of
nature might have tread lightly entering it, but Pudlong wasn't
sensitive in that regard. His ears and eyes were trained to detect a
different sort of magic: the magic of growth and sun, of hard work and
joyful laughter. Pudlong needed no road to fame and fortune. He knew his
place in the world; his place was wherever Lord Farley put him. Farley
had made him high mage, and so that was what Pudlong was, regardless of
whether he actually knew what a high mage was or did. Life changed
around Pudlong, but Pudlong himself stayed the same. With Lord Farley
above him, and heaven above Lord Farley, Pudlong was nestled cozily in
the smothering weight of custom and duty. He was right where he
belonged.
The thick stein was half full now to Pudlong's practiced eye. His
lips parted to allow displaced gas to escape. His eyes were heavily
lidded, and his shoulders were slowly rounding as the ease of the brew
filtered through Pudlong's frame. He had finished his daily inspection
rounds, checking to be sure that the apprentices were working, that they
had enough of whatever they needed, and that their offices were neat.
The lead apprentice had accompanied him, as always. Pudlong was fond of
him. The lad was very helpful, and always deferential, in a helpful sort
of way, like a good herd dog that understands the sheep better than even
the shepherd does. Pudlong had then run his daily errands for Thully,
his wife. Thully had really taken to life in the keep. In many ways she
was more urbane than Pudlong would ever be, fitting quite neatly into
the local circles of gossip and fellowship. She was currently in the
adjoining room doing laundry, leaving Pudlong to tackle the "problem" of
the warehouse, a task he felt he was handling more than adequately.
A flicker of movement caught Pudlong's eye as he took another
drink. Over the lip of the mug he saw something tiny scaling the side of
a cask immediately in front of him. He let the arm with the flagon fall
into his lap and he slowly cranked one eyebrow up his wide forehead. The
thing was small, smaller than a rat, but moved slower than a rat. It was
colored vivid green and gold, and didn't quite seem to fit into the
dusty motif of the warehouse. Pudlong gathered up his ambition and
leaned forward, squinting at the sight.
It looked like a tiny man. As Pudlong watched, the creature reached
the lip of the barrel and scrambled over, tumbling down onto the lid
with an almost imperceptible thump. It got up and dusted itself off and
strutted to the center of the small wooden circle. Pudlong's lips
flapped as he let off a surprised burp. The little person turned to him
and raised its little arms.
"Hail, o mighty Pudlong!" it squeaked. Pudlong saw that his initial
idea that it was dressed in green and gold wasn't quite right. It, or
rather he, was actually quite naked, with hair of shining gold, bright
green skin, and brown, hairy feet. It was just larger than his thumb,
with a surprisingly loud, high-pitched voice and bottomless black eyes.
It was not proportioned as an adult human, but flattened like a dwarf.
It faced him with arms raised and continued its speech.
"I am come to bring you good news, o Pudlong!" Pudlong's eyebrows
lowered over half-closed eyes, and he pushed out his lips in a slight,
almost puzzled frown as the man went on. "You are favored by the realm
of the spirits, and have been chosen to be a vessel of power and glory!"
Pudlong pushed back off his knees and settled back against the
wall, taking another drink, his heavy gaze never leaving the man. His
left arm fell to lie limp in his lap, his right holding the mug to his
lips. The diminutive herald didn't seem to care.
"The spirits of this place have chosen to grant you the power to
fulfill your wishes and desires," the little man continued. "We have
seen your simplicity, and have decided to give you the desires of your
heart. Whatever you wish will come true! You can become whatever you
want to become!"
Pudlong nodded to himself and raised one drowsy eyebrow, his
expression slack, his gaze unfocused.
"Think of it," the mite said, turning to pace back and forth.
"Everything you have ever wanted." Pudlong seemed to consider this. His
expression became almost thoughtful, musing. The small orator seemed to
pick up on this and spread his hands modestly. "You need do nothing at
all, save for a small ceremony which we will describe to you. One simple
act of acceptance, and your wishes come true." The sprite walked to the
edge of the cask and leaned on the lip, his chin coming even with the
rim. "Think what you could do with such power! Think of how far you
could go! You are the high mage. What is preventing you from becoming
duke? Or even king!?"
Pudlong said nothing, taking a swallow from his cup, then wiping
his mouth on his damp left sleeve. He never took his eyes off the
apparition. The little man spun away, turning to face the long, gloomy
warehouse, gesturing out at the objects stored in the narrow room. His
voice began to change subtly, seeming to grow and fragment, almost as if
many voices were speaking, some thin and reedy, others dark and deep,
coming from far away.
"The world awaits you! All that this civilization has to offer we
can give you, if you accept this offer! The will of the magics in this
place has been focused on you, sending me as a message to you. We can
give you power! We can give you long life! We can grant you revenge on
those who have wronged you! We can give you the love of beautiful women,
and the fear of powerful men! If you do as we bid, we will make you
ruler of all you see, possessor of all you desire! No more to toil, no
more to do as others demand! Do as we direct, and you will answer to no
one else after today! We will lift you up on high! We will make you
strong!"
Pudlong lifted the mug to his lips and drained the last from it.
Then, with one smooth motion, he brought the heavy metal stein down on
the little man with a smack. A brief squeak was followed by a tiny flash
like lightning and a puff of smoke. Pudlong squinted his eyes and tilted
the stein up carefully. Of the little man there was no trace, save a
black smudge of soot on the cask and on the bottom of the stein.
"Thully!" Pudlong bellowed.
"Ayess, luv?" Her voice drifted in from the adjoining room.
"'mind me ta mix up a batch of that rat poiz'n!" he hollered back
to her, the slur of the drink not really harming his thick southern
brogue. "We've got varmints agin!"
"Ayup," she called back.
Pudlong lowered the mug down onto the cask and leaned back against
the wall, arms crossed on his chest. He paused a moment on the way down
and exclaimed a loud belch, then settled back, closed his eyes, and
after a long moment of meditation and careful consideration, began to
snore.
========================================================================
Undermined Hope
by Mark A. Murray
<mashudo@netzero.net>
Northern Hope, 1016
A thunderous crash echoed off of the wooden buildings in Northern
Hope. The ground shook as dust and dirt and smoke billowed into the air,
covering a small section of town. Horses neighed and reared while people
jumped.
"Not another one," I sighed, setting my hammer on the forge. I
wiped my hands on my apron and then untied it from around my waist. As I
left my shop and stepped out into the street, I saw friends and
neighbors running towards the other end of town. Pieces of conversation
snapped my way as people shouted, gasped, murmured, and cried. Looking,
I saw a cloud of dust tinged with speckles of something, but couldn't
make out what.
"It's Othra's shop," someone yelled.
"Not good," I muttered, walking towards Othra's. If it was Othra's,
then we had lost a good part of our winter stores. My pace was a slow
deliberate one. I'm not built for running, but for swinging a hammer all
day on an anvil. I could feel my chest move in and out in a relaxed
rhythm in tune with my steps.
"What happened, Darvale?" Kael asked, running to catch up to me.
Kael was about two hands taller than me, but his pace was the same as
mine. He had long black hair that was tied back by three strands of
leather and he wore a simple sleeveless tunic that fit tight over his
muscular chest.
"Sounds like Othra's building fell down," I replied.
"Not another one?" Kael sighed.
"That's what I said," I replied. "But, yes, it seems to be. I heard
someone say we should change our town's name to Northern Curse."
"I heard that, too," Kael said. Being the town leader and the
regent for the lands we all occupied, Kael took to heart most things
that were said. We all had moved from Pyridain after the war because
Beinison had still occupied our lands. King Haralan had given us a grant
of land between three duchies: Dargon, Narragan, and Asbridge.
"It's gone," someone said ahead of them. The dust covered most of
the area and it was getting hard to see anything clearly.
"Was anyone in the shop?" another asked.
"Othra and his family are out harvesting. The shop was closed,"
someone answered, coughing.
"The wind will clear this soon," I said, treading carefully into
the cloud.
"Part of this is dust and part is grain and part is flour," Kael
said, covering his mouth with a cloth. "Looks like we lost some of our
winter stores."
"Straight," I agreed, coughing. "But it's a good thing we listened
to you at the last meeting and stored our supplies in several buildings
and not just Othra's."
"There," Kael pointed. "The ground breaks up and it looks like a
hole." They passed several people who had stopped. Everyone was coughing
and some turned around to leave. A gust of wind blew across them.
"The building is gone," Kael said.
"No, it's down there," I told him, looking down into a large hole
in the ground.
"Illiena's sight!" Kael swore as he carefully stepped to the edge
and looked down. Othra's shop was a mess of broken boards and barrels
that looked small compared to the hole it was in. Littered over
everything was grain, flour, and dirt. The edge started to collapse and
we both jumped back.
Something wasn't right about the ground, so I knelt down and thrust
my hand into it. "Feel this," I said. "The ground is soft and very dry."
"It wasn't like this when we first built the shop," Kael said as he
gathered a handful of dirt and tossed it into the air. The dirt flew
apart into small granules and lazily floated to the ground. "Everything
here was hard. We had a terrible time driving stakes into the ground."
"I remember," I said, standing. "How can land change so quickly?"
"I don't know, but it is as if something doesn't want us to be
here. My barn burned, one whole wall of Harra's house collapsed, the
cattle ran off --"
"Heh," I snorted, partly from disgust and partly from the dust.
"Took us three days to get them back and we still didn't get them all."
"Let's get out of this," Kael said, turning and walking away from
the hole.
"What do we tell the council?" I asked, following him. The wind
picked up and blew against us as if it wanted to push us into the hole.
"What happened?" a man named Lewis asked as he and John Harra ran
toward us. Lewis was short and fat and I could never understand how he
was able to run, but he seemed light on his feet. He and his family were
responsible for trading with the closest towns.
"Othra's shop fell into a hole in the ground," Kael answered.
"I saw it!" John Harra added. Harra was the oldest of us all. His
stringy grey hair ran down his head and over his shoulders. A large
bushy beard filled out his face and its grey added to that of his hair.
He and his family ran the local shop for clothing, quilts, lamps, and
whatever else we needed. Harra and Lewis were close friends.
"Saw what?" Lewis asked.
"Saw the whole thing," Harra replied. "Felt the ground tremble
right under me. It was as if something ran under the ground straight
towards Othra's. Could almost see it going down tha street. Then the
shop pitched to one side and rocked back ta the other. And whoosh, roof
fell in, front fell in, and it was gone in a cloud of dirt and grain."
Other people had gathered around us. "Don't seem like we're welcome
here," Vern said. He and his family looked after all the livestock.
"What are we going to do, Kael?" Lewis asked.
Kael looked around at the people gathered. "Looks like most of us
are here," he said. "We might as well discuss this now instead of
waiting. Here's as good a place as any."
"We can rebuild the shop, but it looks like we lost most of the
grain," I said. "It's going to be a tough winter." I wanted them to
understand that our situation was grave. Everyone here had traveled from
Pyridain and most thought that trip had been the worst thing that had
ever happened to them. Most had not seen any of the fighting, though.
Losing their homes had been tough, but the trip here had been long and
arduous. Winter was going to make them wish for the days before the war,
if they survived.
"We made it here from Pyridain!" Harra said. "What's winter
compared ta that?" I sighed, but before I could explain, Kael spoke.
"We need to replenish some of the lost stores," Kael told him. "We
could butcher all the livestock, but what would we have next spring?
Where do we get more calves, chickens, hogs? The game around here is
sparse! The land is next to impossible to use for farming. And we are
farther north than most of us have ever dreamed about. Winter here is
harsher than ... Ah ..." he said, tossing his hands in the air and then
letting them fall to his sides.
"Home," I said.
"What?" Vern asked.
"Home," I repeated. "Kael was about to say it and realized that
where we are now is home." It was finally sinking in to some. Kael, for
all his wisdom, had not comprehended the finality of our move here. Or
perhaps he did, but was pushing it aside with hopes of returning to
Pyridain.
"We didn't ask to be moved here," Kael said, looking out and
staring at each person, one by one. "We didn't ask for our homes to be
taken from us." The wind stopped blowing and silence settled into our
group. "We weren't given a choice of where we would live, but we have a
choice on how we'll survive."
"How?" Lewis asked, shifting his weight and trying to find a
comfortable position to stand.
"We have some stores left," Kael answered. "We'll dig through
Othra's and scavenge every last grain that we can. We'll rebuild the
shop. And we'll continue with the plans we've already made."
"We don't have enough people ta do that!" Harra complained.
"We'll find a way," Kael replied. "We'll take what we can from
Othra's and use it to rebuild the new shop. Darvale's son can help with
that. Othra's family, too. Vern, you can lend your youngest. I'll send
my youngest. It'll be slow, but we'll rebuild.
"As for finding the missing cattle ... Lewis, you can lend a son. I
see you back there, Jev. Your girls can help, too."
"Girls?" Vern complained.
"Jev's girls have helped me plant a field or two," Kael said. "I
think they can handle a small herd of cattle."
"What about my trading trip?" Lewis asked.
"We might have to postpone it for a week. We don't really have
anything worth trading right now that we can spare. And the money we
have might be needed for something else."
"Like what?" Harra asked.
"Like the next disaster that strikes us," I answered. They all
looked at me in shock. "Are you all so naive to think that this was the
last?"
"Osiniana bless us," someone prayed.
"Also, Lewis," Kael said. "There might be local villages closer to
us. Remember that girl I accidentally shot while hunting? Her --"
"I forgot about her!" Lewis interrupted.
"Yeah, but Kael's wife never has," Harra said, laughing. I saw
Kael's eye twitch once before he continued his speech.
"As I was saying, her village can't be that far away. I'd guess
that they've lived here for some time and if they can, then so can we.
And maybe we can find some trade between us to help both our towns
prosper."
"Are you still going into the mountains, then?" Jev asked.
"Yes," Kael answered. "We'll check the traps we've set, we'll check
the trot lines, and we'll explore some of the caves for coal. But maybe
not all in one trip.
"Once Othra returns, we'll plan for the rebuild. Tomorrow, Vern,
you can get your group together and search for the cattle. Lewis and
Harra, I expect you to help fill in for anything that needs to be done.
I'm sure Vern's family will need help feeding and watering the
livestock. Help will be needed to sift through the wreckage of Othra's
shop and carrying the good pieces out of the hole. My wife could use
help in the fields. There's more than enough to do. Darvale and I will
set out tomorrow to check a few traps and if there's time, explore part
of a cave. We won't be gone for more than a few days."
"Unless you trap another pretty young lady," Harra said, laughing.
I saw another twitch and whispered to Kael, "It's something that
gives everyone a reason to laugh in the face of dire events and not
something against you personally." I saw his shoulders drop as he
relaxed a bit. The wind played a bit with his hair, but I couldn't feel
the wind on my face. This place was definitely strange.
"We might as well get started on Othra's," Harra said. "C'mon." He
motioned for people to follow him as he walked away. The crowd broke up,
some following Harra and some drifting off to the work they'd been
doing.
"We should talk," Kael said, heading toward my smithy.
"We need one more person, but I'm not sure we can spare anyone
else," Kael mumbled.
"Why do we need another?" I asked. "And for what?" We entered my
shop and I tossed a small stool to Kael.
"It takes two to pull one man out of a hole should we fall in,"
Kael answered, sitting down. "I don't diminish your strength, but I'd
rather have two men to pull me out rather than just one."
"Hole?" I said, confused. "Oh! You're thinking of exploring a cave.
Heh," I spat. "I can pull two men out." I reached out with both hands
and grasped my anvil. Holding it tight, I grunted and started to pick up
the anvil from its perch. I could feel my muscles bulge and I ground my
teeth against themselves. Heat flooded my face.
"Muskadon's breath!" Kael said, standing. "Enough. I stand
corrected. You have the strength."
"Augh," I exhaled as I set the anvil down with a thud. "It is a
good thing you spoke quickly," I laughed. "I couldn't lift it much
longer."
"What happens if I have to pull you out of some hole?" Kael asked.
"Eh?" I muttered, shaking my arms out. "You mean you can't lift
that anvil?" I teased.
"With a hoist and two men, yes, I can lift it," Kael replied,
chuckling.
"You underestimate yourself. Still, you bring up a good point. Who
will pull me out? My son will be here helping to rebuild the shop. Your
sons are too young. Othra's boy should be there with him."
"What about Jev's girl, Erin?" Kael asked. "Jev's got four girls, I
think he can spare Erin to go with us."
"That little thing?"
"Little?" Kael smiled. "Have you seen her lately? Especially when
she's out there wrestling with the other boys? She bests Othra's son
every time."
"Heh," I muttered in slight suprise. "I haven't seen her much, no."
"She doesn't look it, but she's fairly strong, quick and a good
fighter. I'd wager on her against most of the men here."
"Will she go?"
"I'll ask her," Kael answered.
"Your home is closer to the caves. I'll meet you there at sunrise
or so," I said.
"I'll talk to Othra," Kael said, turning to leave, "and let him
know what we have planned. I'll also stop by Jev's and ask Erin." As he
left, he said, "See you at sunrise."
"Where is he?" Erin asked, pacing just outside Kael's barn. An
impish light glinted in her light brown eyes as the morning sun shone
down upon her. She was a few hands shorter than Kael and looked thin,
but underneath her clothes, her body looked well toned and muscular. Her
nose had been broken, she had high cheekbones, and her lips were small
and somewhat chapped. She brought up callused hands to run through her
straggly dark hair. No one had seen, or heard, me walk around the barn,
yet, which was good because I found myself staring at Erin and wondering
what it was that drew my attention to her.
"He'll be here," Kael replied, leaning against the barn door. Two
packs sat on the ground at his feet.
"I still don't understand why I can't go," Jerial said. He was
Kael's oldest son, but not yet into his teenage years.
"I don't know what the caves are like, Jer. We may need to haul
each other over chasms, rivers, or holes. You aren't old enough yet to
do that. We've gone over this already," Kael said.
"You're taking Erin," he pleaded.
"Ha!" Erin laughed. "I can twirl you around me with one hand."
"Can not!" Jerial stomped.
"Jerial!" Kael said. "I said 'No' and that is the end of the
matter."
"I'm old enough," Jerial muttered as he ran to the house.
"Not a good start," I said from behind them. Erin jumped, whirled
and swung her arm. I calmly reached up and caught her fist. After going
through some nasty battles in Pyridain, nothing has yet caused me to
react out of surprise.
"You didn't say she was jumpy and fiesty, Kael," I said, smiling.
"Don't scare me!" Erin yelled. "And let go!"
"Erin," Kael said, softly. "Relax and he'll let go. What were you
saying, Darvale?" Erin relaxed and I released her.
"Not a good start when you're already turning down help," I told
him.
"He's just a boy," Kael replied, picking up his pack.
"I see a young man near bursting out of a small body," I said. "You
should give him a chance to prove himself."
"I don't want him along on this trip," Kael said, picking up the
second pack and handing it to Erin. I already had a pack on my back.
"Not this trip, no," I agreed. "We've enough on our hands with
young Erin, here. But soon I think you should give that boy some
trials."
"Let me teach him how to fight and wrestle," Erin said. She and
Kael shouldered their packs as they started towards the mountains.
"And have him beat up his younger brother even more?" Kael laughed.
"I think not."
"More likely you're afraid he'll best you," I retorted, chuckling.
"That would be a sight," Erin laughed. "A small boy atop you,
pummeling you until you cried yield."
"Let's hope your caving skills are as good as your jokes," Kael
said, walking ahead of them.
"Looks dark in there," Erin spoke, standing in front of the mouth
of the cave. The opening was large enough to fit two people side by
side, but there was a twist just a few strides in it. Nothing could be
seen after that turn. Cool air wafted out from the entrance.
"We have lanterns," Kael said as he unpacked his. "Can we leave the
game here?"
"Yes, we'll string them all up and tie them to a tree," I answered.
"We didn't get much from the traps, but it's a start and a good one. We
could have gotten nothing." I slipped off my pack to dig for my lantern.
"We should have brought a bird," I said.
"A bird?" Erin asked, striking flint to light her lantern. Kael
tied the dead animals to a tree limb. They swayed to and fro in an eerie
silence.
"Yes," I answered, turning my attention to the lanterns. I lit
Kael's and Erin's lantern.
"Why a bird?" Kael asked, picking up his light and heading into the
cave.
"There is death in caves. Places where everything dies. We carry a
bird to alert us of these places," I explained. Kael stopped.
"You're just now remembering this?" Kael asked, peering into the
cave. "Or am I the bird?"
"Yes," I laughed and lightly pushed him onward. Kael frowned and
bunched his eyebrows as he carefully stepped further into the cave,
lantern held at full arm's length in front of him.
"You are next," I ordered Erin. Silently, she took her place
between us. The darkness seemed to swallow all words. As Kael led the
way, Erin gulped and tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Sweat
beaded upon her brow and she wiped it away with her sleeve. Her palms
were clammy and she brushed them against her breeches. She continuously
looked around at the softly-lit walls.
"I don't like this," she whispered. "It's getting tight in here."
"You should hope not," I said, my voice just loud enough to hear.
"Caves and mines often get so small, one has to squirm like a worm to
wriggle through them. And so long that one wonders if he'll starve
before breaking through the earth."
"Eeep," Erin cried in a high, tight voice. "You jest?" she asked,
stopping. Kael quickly noticed the change in lighting and stopped also.
He turned his head and looked back, also wondering what the answer was.
"No," was all I said. Let them think the worst so that if it did
come, it wouldn't be a shock.
"You do not give us much hope in here," Kael said. "If we have to
crawl like that, how do we ever bring anything of value out of here?"
"We dig and make the hole bigger once we find something of value,"
I replied. "Continue on or we won't ever find anything."
The cave twisted and turned, but for the most part, the floor was
easy to walk. I looked over the walls and floor and ceiling of the cave
as we walked it.
"This opens up," Kael called back. "It looks to be a large cavern."
Erin and I added our lights to Kael's as we stood beside him.
"Walk carefully around the sides, Erin, Kael," I ordered. "I shall
walk the middle and we'll see how large this place is. It isn't very far
from the opening. Look for dark black veins running through the walls or
for glittering rocks speckled throughout. Finding something here would
be the best of luck."
"There are holes in the walls," Erin noted as she started walking.
"Aye, there are holes here also," Kael echoed.
"Holes?" I asked, walking over to Kael. We shielded our eyes from
the lanterns as we tried to peer into a hole. It wasn't very large, two
hands or so wide, but it twisted and turned such that nothing could be
seen inside it. "I haven't seen anything of the like. I count seven here
in our light."
"There's a lot of them over here," Erin called. "Augh!" she
screamed, suddenly. We rushed over to her. I found myself wanting to
protect her from whatever frightened her and that frightened me more
than the unknown.
"What happened?" Kael asked, seeing that she was physically fine.
"Something moved over there," she said, pointing into the far end
of the cavern.
"It's dark. How can you see?" I asked, looking.
"I saw the darkness swirl," she replied. "I did!" she emphasized
when she saw Kael's disbelieving face.
"These almost look natural, yet ... something about them is wrong,"
I muttered as I studied the holes in the cave wall. I ran my hand around
an opening and then pushed my arm inside. All I could feel was dirt and
rock, but it wasn't as solid as I expected. There must have been clay
mixed in with it.
"Osini!" Erin hissed. "What are you doing?" She reached out to pull
me away from the wall. Her hand grasped my shoulder and pulled, but I
did not budge.
"Darvale, there could be anything in there," Kael warned. He stood
watching.
"Unlike tales told to frighten children," I said, reaching deeper
into the hole, "caves rarely hold any danger of the animal kind. Most
people die from rocks falling or from falling into crevices or rapidly
flowing rivers. Occasionally, one will find a bear or devil cat making
their home in a cave, but there are always signs for that. We have
nothing to fear from these holes."
"Osiniana?" Kael asked, turning toward Erin. The light from his
lantern lit his face from below, casting shadows over his raised
eyebrows and tilted head. "You fight and wrestle and war with the local
boys and you call out for the goddess of bliss?"
Erin dropped her hand and turned away, but not before red flushed
her cheeks. "Shouldn't we be moving deeper, looking for something?" she
asked, trying to change the subject.
"Aye," I spoke with finality, extracting my arm from the hole. To
myself, I thought, "Onward so that I can think of something else besides
her warm hand on my shoulder." The lantern in my other hand rocked as I
turned, casting shifting and moving shadows of the three of us into the
middle of the cavern.
We carefully moved deeper into the cave, taking a right turn at
every intersection. I explained that this was to keep from getting lost.
On the return, we would merely take every left and be out of the cave.
Erin asked what would happen if we didn't see an opening. I shrugged and
said we'd be lost.
"What glints ahead?" I asked from behind the other two. Kael peered
into the darkness beyond our light, but couldn't see anything. As we
moved closer, I said, "Swing your light slowly."
Kael rocked his lantern. "I
see it now," Kael said. "Something is
shining at the edge of our light."
"How did you see that from back there?" Erin asked, looking around
Kael. We were amid sparkling walls.
"I've been caving and mining for longer than you've been alive," I
answered. "It is a metal ore of some sort." Bits of the metal stuck out
in the walls. Pieces littered the ground as we walked deeper into the
vein. "I've never seen the like," I said, stopping to pick up a rock
filled with the ore.
"Looks like a fairly long vein," Kael said from a few steps ahead
of them. "Do we go on?"
"No," I replied. "It will be late enough when we return that we
don't need to go deeper on this trip. Gather some of this and we'll head
back." We took off our packs and started picking up rocks. We set our
lanterns around us to shed light where we worked.
"There!" Erin shouted, pointing into the darkness down the
cavernous hallway. "Did you see that?"
"The air shifted, but I saw nothing," I said, placing my pack on my
back.
"I saw things," she said. "Things moving in the dark." She hefted
her pack. "I want to leave." Her voice quivered.
"Something does not feel right," Kael said. "I think we should go
now, too."
"It is her fear," I retorted. "You feel that. There is no danger in
--" Something black, swift, and feline rushed out of the darkness. It
bounced off the wall, landed between Kael and Erin, and then pounced
upon me. My mind yelled to swing at it, but it was too late. I went down
on my back and then the black thing was gone into the darkness. Erin
screamed and pushed herself against the wall.
"Illiena save us," Kael rasped, taking a step back. "What was that
thing?"
"Strong," I breathed out in a huff. The hair on the back of my neck
stood on end as I sat up. "Erin is right. There was something in the
dark." I put a hand down and then stood. My pack slipped from my back as
I did so, the straps cut neatly in half. A high-pitched wail echoed
throughout the cave. Others joined in.
"Go! Now!" Kael ordered, turning to pick up a lantern. Black,
powerful forms flooded out of the cave. Two hit Kael mid-stride and
knocked him forcefully to the ground, where he bounced and rolled past
me.
Erin seemed to fly to the other side of the passageway, where she
smashed into the wall. Another form hit her and pushed her to the floor,
before bouncing off of her and disappearing into the dark.
"Ol's Piss," I swore, wishing I had brought my war hammer. It was
the only sound to echo around us. I moved to Erin and knelt beside her.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, no, I'm fine, I think," Kael replied, groaning as he sat up.
"Oh. My thanks for wondering," he said when he saw I wasn't next to him.
"Darvale?" Erin whispered. "I don't want to die," she pleaded to
me.
"Neither do I," I said, helping her to stand. "We are not seriously
injured. That means something."
"Yes," Kael said. "It means we'll have a lot of bruises every step
of the way." Erin smiled, but it looked forced. "Did you get a good look
at them?"
"No," I said as I grabbed a lantern and handed it to Kael. Erin
kept close to me.
"Neither did I," Kael said, picking up the remaining lantern and
handing it to Erin. She took it, but didn't hold it very far from her
body. The light shone brightly into her eyes.
"Walk between us, Erin," I instructed her as I picked up my pack.
"You will have to hold this," I said, handing the pack to her. "As well
as carry your own."
"It's gone," she said.
"Yes," Kael said, looking about. "Mine is here." He shouldered it.
"At a fair pace, let's get out of here."
"Left," I said. We moved quickly down the hallway and started to
retrace our steps.
"I can't hear anything," Erin said, her voice pitched high and
quivering. "Except our own echoes. And I can't see anything anymore."
She sounded like she was about to bolt.
"You blind yourself with your lantern," I said, trying to calm her.
"Hold it away from your body a bit more and turn it thus." I moved the
lantern out a bit to show her.
Dark, sleek, bodies struck me from behind. One tore the lantern
from my grasp and sent it spiraling out and upward over Kael. Another
landed square on my back, thrusting me forward. I tried to turn around,
but couldn't. Erin screamed and I saw her jump sideways into one of
them. Large, furred arms wrapped themselves around her. The light glared
off long, curved, sharp claws. She dropped to the ground and her lantern
hit hard and broke. Fire flared upwards, burning her and her assailant.
They both screamed in pain and she rolled on the ground away from it.
With a whoosh of air, the creatures were gone, leaving us battered and
bruised once again. The fire crackled on the ground, snapped and popped
for a mene before going out.
"Time to run," Kael blurted out. "One lantern left."
"My pack is gone," I said, standing. "They frighten, but do not
injure seriously."
"Not to you," Erin hissed. "I nearly died! I saw those claws and
felt that deathly body! Osiniana save us!" She was splotched red in a
few places from the flames.
"Come!" Kael ordered. "We do not have the time to argue." We shut
up and followed him. At each step, we peered forward and backwards. At
openings, we glanced right out into the darkness, waiting for another
attack. It wasn't until we reached the middle of a large area that we
realized where we were. Wispy shapes moved throughout the cavern all
around us. Fear caught in my throat.
"The holes!" I spat. "They've been playing with us all along. They
knew we would return here! Go! Run!" Kael broke into a run.
A muscular feline-like form landed in front of Kael, causing him to
suddenly stop. Erin and I managed to avoid crashing into him from
behind, but we stood next to him.
The thing in front of us growled, showing two large rows of
triangular teeth. A set of curved fangs extended down from the upper
jaw. Fur covered most of the body and the face looked somewhat like a
dog's with its ears flattened back. It crouched on two legs while one
front arm helped to balance itself, and the other arm was held a bit out
from it, claws extended. Snarling and curling its nose, it showed more
of its teeth.
"To Eilli-Syk with you!" Kael screamed as he surged ahead, swinging
the lantern. He swung it back and forth, but only hit air.
"Dar--" Erin screamed, but was cut short. A creature sat atop her,
raking small furrows down her back with its claws. She screamed in pain.
"Ol banish you!" I yelled as I jumped for the creature. Other black
forms hit me in mid-air and tackled me to the ground. I huffed as the
breath left me. I could still see Kael, but not Erin. The creatures held
me down with claws at my neck, threatening their use.
"Father?!?" a boy's voice called from ahead. "Are you in here? I
saw the game hanging outside."
"Jerial?" Kael cried aloud. "Run!" Kael started forward, but two
creatures blocked his path. "You'll not have my son!" Feinting left, he
turned quickly right and swung the lantern. Wind and fur brushed past
his left side, but he still did not hit anything in front of him.
Light broke brightly from the other side of the room. Jerial ran
forward, only seeing his father. "Father, I came to help!" he yelled,
smiling. "I tracked you all the way here!" He sounded proud of what he'd
done.
"Oh, sweet Illiena!" Kael pleaded. "Go Jerial! Run!" Jerial
stopped, sensing something wrong. His father started toward him, but
something stepped between them. Jerial shrieked as his father's light
showed what he had not seen. He turned to run, but one of the creatures
stood in his way. "Father!" he cried, freezing in place. Small hands
trembled and shook while light danced and flickered upon fangs and fur
and claws.
"No!" Kael screamed as he surged forward. His legs were cut out
from under him and something hit him in the shoulder, spinning him in
the air. He landed roughly upon the hard, rocky ground. His lantern
moved swiftly through the room to disappear somewhere in the blackness.
"They are smart," I thought as Kael started to rise painfully. He
was hit again and rolled over and over. The light from Jerial's lantern
barely touched Kael, but it was enough to see. Landing on his stomach,
Kael looked up and saw his son. A creature landed on Kael's back and
sharp claws pierced his flesh.
"Father?" Jerial called. The creature blocking his way leaned in,
nose twitching as it sniffed the air. It stepped forward and sniffed his
clothes, his face, and his hair. Jerial was frozen in place by fear. It
stepped back and cried out in sharp barks that hurt the ears.
The creatures on Kael disappearred and he rushed to his son. We
watched the thing in front of Jerial look up at Kael with clear,
intelligent eyes. I saw something flash across those eyes and then it
was gone. All the creatures were gone.
"Go Kael!" I yelled. "We are right behind you!" Erin had reached me
and we were running for the entrance. Reaching his son, Kael urged him
onward. The four of us fled towards the opening, not looking back or
left or right. Turning a bend, the light of day blinded us and we slowed
enough to make it outside without tripping or falling. Some menes later,
we stopped running to catch our breath.
"You said there was no danger!" Erin cried, turning to me. She beat
her fists against my chest. "No danger!" Her words turned to sobs and
she collapsed into my arms.
"Aye," I said, softly, holding her tightly to me. "I was wrong."
"What was that?" Jerial asked, standing close to his father.
"I don't know," Kael replied. "They could have killed us easily,
but didn't. I thought surely my death was close when I felt the claws
dig into my back."
"It sniffed me," Jerial said. He sat down on the ground and pulled
his knees up to his chest. "I couldn't move I was so afraid. I wanted to
run and I wanted to stay and I wanted it to all be a trick of the light.
But it wasn't."
"No, son, it wasn't. I don't know why they let us go. But I saw
something in its eyes before it vanished. It was as if your smell was
familiar and ..."
"And what?" I prodded.
"Recognition. That was what I saw," Kael said. "Something changed
in its eyes and it looked at me as if it knew me."
"Osiniana blessed us," Erin spoke, turning around but still in my
arms.
"Someone or something did," Kael said. "Let's not test our blessing
overly long. Let's go home."
========================================================================
