Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
DargonZine Volume 18 Issue 05
DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 18
-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 5
DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
\\
\
========================================================================
DargonZine Distributed: 9/24/05
Volume 18, Number 5 Circulation: 661
========================================================================
Contents
Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
Journey's End 1 Rena Deutsch Yuli 1-27, 1018
Idol Hands 1 Jon Evans 29 Yuli, 1018
========================================================================
DargonZine is the publication vehicle of The Dargon Project, Inc.,
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@dargonzine.org> 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 18-5, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright September, 2005 by
The Dargon Project, Inc. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@rcn.com>,
Assistant Editor: Liam Donahue <bdonahue@fuse.net>.
DargonZine is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs-
NonCommercial License. This license allows you to make and distribute
unaltered copies of DargonZine, complete with the original attributions
of authorship, so long as it is not used for commercial purposes.
Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
To view a detailed copy of this license, please visit
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/1.0 or send a letter to
Creative Commons, 559 Nathan Abbott Way, Stanford CA, 94305 USA.
========================================================================
Editorial
by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
<ornoth@rcn.com>
In my previous editorial, I said that this issue "should appear in
your mailbox near the end of June". Well, before the end of June
arrived, I took a new job, I became primary caregiver during a family
member's long-term hospitalization, my ceiling was destroyed by a
week-long water leak, I fell so far behind in the last class of my
graphic design program that I had to take an incomplete, I threw my back
out, and -- as you might have guessed by now -- I stopped putting any
time into DargonZine.
Unfortunately, putting DargonZine out is still very much a
one-person operation. Our contributors kept plugging away at their
writing, so there are plenty of stories to print, but there's really no
one who can put issues out when I'm not around. It's a problem we've
known about for years, but never successfully addressed. However, we're
hopeful that will change very soon, as a result of Liam Donahue becoming
our new assistant editor. Once he has gotten familiar with the process
of putting out issues, we should be able to avoid lengthy gaps between
issues like the one you just experienced.
But now, three months after this issue was supposed to go out, I've
finally pulled my life back together again and can get back to the job I
love: bringing you some of the best fantasy fiction you'll find
anywhere. And this issue is a great place to start. We began our
long-awaited Black Idol story arc at the beginning of this year in
DargonZine 18-1, and have printed the first of three sections of that
storyline in the four issues that have come out since January.
In this issue we begin the second section of the Black Idol arc,
which follows the bard Simona, the wizard Anarr, and a down on his luck
peasant named Edmond as they travel together. Our earlier stories showed
how Anarr temporarily neutralized the curse on a statue of the god named
Gow. He and Edmond are now carting it off to Dargon, while Simona and
her companion Kal are looking to Anarr to rid her of an old family
curse. Thus begins the second section of the Black Idol, which we hope
you will enjoy.
We've had a number of new readers sign up in recent months, and I'd
like to thank all of you for your interest in DargonZine. If you haven't
read the first third of the arc, I'd encourage you to go back and check
out the stories that have appeared so far. This is a great time to join
us, because we've just begun a lengthy, cohesive storyline, and I think
you'll get a lot more out of the coming issues if you've read the
handful of earlier stories, which began appearing in DargonZine 18-1.
One final thing to note is that during this brief hiatus, we also
held our annual DargonZine Writers' Summit. This year's event was hosted
by veteran author Victor Cardoso, and took place in scenic Traverse
City, Michigan. No, really, it *is* scenic! I won't relate all the
details here, but we had a wonderfully productive yet relaxing time. If
you're interested in seeing the pictures and hearing about what we did,
point your browser at <http://www.dargonzine.org/summit05.shtml>, or
check out descriptions of all of our previous writers' gatherings at
<http://www.dargonzine.org/summit.shtml>.
Let me close by saying it's great to have you with us, whether
you're a longstanding subscriber or someone who just signed up. We've
got another 18 stories left in the Black Idol arc, and with a planned
nine-chapter epic from Nick Wansbutter following on its heels, we'll be
bringing you issues one after another for quite some time to come. So
clear out some room in your inbox, because we're back again!
========================================================================
Journey's End
Part 1
by Rena Deutsch
<Rena3@hotmail.com>
Yuli 1 - Yuli 27, 1018
Summer had arrived in full force with swarming mosquitoes, ripening
fruit on the trees, and days hotter than Simona liked. She had gotten up
early in the morning, helped her mother with the meal preparations and
then excused herself for the rest of the day to spend it to her liking.
Kalanu and Nai, her traveling companions for the past two years, had
offered to accompany her, but she had turned them down. Simona took her
bag of scrolls and set out for the forest, where she knew she could find
a place cool enough for her to escape the heat as well as secluded so
she wouldn't be disturbed. She needed solitude to go over the scrolls
containing her family history and she knew her mother wouldn't approve.
"Simona! Wait up!" She turned to see Kalanu running toward her and
sighed inwardly. "What now?" she muttered, irritated, and then thought,
"Didn't I just tell him I want to be alone?"
"Let me go with you," Kalanu said. "You really shouldn't go by
yourself."
"And be distracted by you?" Simona laughed. "No, Kal, I need some
time alone."
"Simona," Kal spoke softly and took her hand. Their eyes met. The
gentle touch of Kal's lips against her hand made Simona shudder. She
pulled her hand away.
"Go, and don't follow me!" Simona ran towards the forest and didn't
stop until the trees hid her from view.
"Turdation," she cursed out loud and then muttered to herself. "Why
does he affect me so? He's my friend, nothing else!" She sat on a fallen
trunk to refocus. For several menes the thought of Kal stayed with her.
She let her thoughts wander and imagined what it would be like to have
him always close by, without their friend Nai.
"This isn't helping at all! I have to focus if I want to get
anything done!" Angry with herself for letting her thoughts wander,
Simona closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and listened to the
twittering of nearby birds. She concentrated on the chirping and thought
about the birds searching for food for their young.
"The mother bird -- my mother," Simona thought and a deep sense of
joy and belonging flooded over her. She took in a full breath, stood up,
and continued on her path, remembering her early childhood with her twin
sister Megan and the day her uncle Ezra had forcefully taken her from
her mother and Megan. Simona remembered what her uncle had told her
about the family curse that affected the women of the family. If a woman
gave birth to a girl, the baby's father would die on the day the child
was born and the woman would die a forceful death later. Her uncle had
shown her scrolls that documented the family curse.
She recalled the time she had spent with her grandparents,
disguised as a boy so they would think her father had sired a son and
broken the family curse. Simona remembered her travels across Baranur
with her uncle who had given her a flute and taught her to play it. He
had also instructed her in reading and writing. She also called to mind
the years she had spent at the College of Bards. All this time she had
been separated from her mother and sister. She had wanted nothing more
than to be reunited with them.
After years of studying, she had left the College of Bards to find
her sister, and ended up with two traveling companions: Nai, a former
smith, and Kal, a sailor who had decided that the countryside had more
to offer than the sea. From then on, the three had been almost
inseparable. They had made slow progress in locating anyone who knew of
Megan, but when they had reached Dargon and checked in at Spirit's
Haven, the owner of the inn, May, had been able to help them. Two years
after leaving the College of Bards, Simona had finally known where to
look for her sister.
When the companions reached her sister's location, they found
disaster. An old man and a boy lay dead, a cat stood over the dead man's
body as if it were crying, a slain wolf lay next to the boy, and nearby
they had found a dying couple: Megan and her husband Raphael. Simona had
held her sister in her arms, calling her name, and Megan had responded.
With her last breath, Megan had revealed that their mother, Anna, was
still alive and well in Hawksbridge.
After Simona, Kal, and Nai had sent the spirits of the dead on
their way with a traditional cremation, the three had left and traveled
to Hawksbridge, a journey complicated by the snowstorms of winter.
During this journey, Kal had been more attentive to her needs than
usual, seeking to spend time with her alone. If Nai had noticed, he
didn't speak of it.
When the three finally arrived in Hawksbridge, Simona had no
trouble locating her mother. Reunited, she had stayed with her mother,
Anna, bridging the time they had spent apart by telling each other what
had happened. One day, when Kal and Nai had been outside, chopping
firewood, Simona had discussed the family curse with her mother and had
found out that Anna had given birth to another daughter, and on the same
day had lost her second husband. The little girl had since died and Anna
had never remarried.
Simona remembered vividly how upset her mother had become when she
told her she wanted to see the curse ended.
"It's all just a coincidence," Anna had said, brushing her
daughter's concerns aside.
"Five generations, mother, and six dead husbands, and you still
think it's all a coincidence?" Simona had countered. "What about me?
What if I want a husband and children? Do I then have to raise my
daughter alone or grieve for stillborns like you had to? Hasn't our
family suffered enough?"
"It's not a curse," Anna had insisted. "I'm still alive, yet my
mother died early and so did hers and the others before her."
"And for that I am grateful, but it doesn't mean it is over. If it
were, then my sisters and your husband would still be alive!"
"You don't know that!" Anna had yelled.
"Mother, uncle Ezra showed me scrolls, which track this curse. I
--"
"Leave it alone, Simona. Nothing good will come of it!"
Simona had decided then not to mention that she was in possession
of said scrolls and that all previous attempts to break the curse had
failed. She wasn't going to tell her mother that she believed the
scrolls and wanted to see this curse broken and the suffering ended.
Simona reached the clearing in the forest near the creek she had
been seeking. The water bubbled gently over the rocks. Several lizards
sat on stones, baking in the sun. None scurried away when Simona settled
herself into the soft moss. "I found my mother!"
For several menes, Simona dwelled on the thought of being reunited
with her mother. She let out a sigh, pulled several scrolls out of her
bag, and read what Ezra's family had documented over the decades. She
removed her quill and ink bottle and added her mother's story and what
she knew of Megan's. After reading the scrolls a second time, she
realized it would take a powerful mage to help her lift the curse again.
"How many powerful wizards are there?" she asked herself and stared
at the scroll in her hands. "Shanna would know," Simona thought.
"Somehow she always knew the answer or where to look for it." A soft
giggle escaped her as she thought of the girl she had shared a room with
at the College of Bards.
Simona searched her memory for incidences of magic and odd
happenings. She had heard of places north and west of the Darst Range
that had old magic, but those stories were only gypsy truth if she were
to believe her teachers. In one such place rain was constantly falling;
in another the person entering would age within menes and die. As she
thought about the tales, Simona realized that those who had created such
magic were surely long dead.
"Where else can I look?" she muttered to herself and thought: "The
tower in which Megan was trapped? No! I don't want to be trapped there
accidentally.
"Rubel has a mage who helps to protect the island, but I need a
ship to get there. Would he help an outsider?" Simona stretched her arms
and legs briefly and then wrapped her arms around her legs and placed
her head on her knees.
"I could go to Magnus. In the Fifth Quarter are surely magi willing
to help for a price, but my chances of making it in and out alive and
with my possessions are slim. And the magi who don't live in the Fifth
Quarter have already had their laugh, dismissing my claim to be cursed
as an old wives' tale. No, they won't do either. Maybe Dargon has a
magus willing to help me?"
Simona watched as a mouse tried to nibble on one of the scrolls
that stuck out of her bag. She waved her hand and the rodent scurried
away instantly. "Sorry little one," she said softly. "No luck ..."
Simona stopped herself mid sentence and thought: "No luck, Northern Hope
has no luck! That place is supposed to be cursed. Maybe there is a mage
nearby, causing all the problems. The settlement isn't that old. Maybe I
should begin there? Yes! It's a start. And from there to Dargon."
Shouldering her bag, she walked back, her mind made up to search for a
mage. How she would convince her mother to let her go without an
argument was going to be a challenge. Even more challenging would be to
leave alone. She hadn't told either Kal or Nai too much about the curse
and worried about what they would say, but neither would take it lightly
if she'd left without them. "Maybe I can convince one of them to stay
behind?" she muttered to no one in particular. "I have to do this for
myself, without distractions and lots of questions."
On a cool morning four days later, Simona and Kal left Hawksbridge
and set out for Northern Hope. Kal had donned his traveling clothes
again and Simona was wearing her gown and harp-and-stars insignia belt
that identified her as a bard. She had also applied her blue lip color
again and braided her long black hair to prevent it from getting into
her face. Simona felt a sense of purpose: she was searching for a mage
to help her lift the curse. As they stepped outside the house, Anna and
Nai, who remained behind, wished them well.
Simona had already taken several steps away from the house, when
she turned around and walked back to her mother to give her one last hug
good-bye. "I will be back before winter," she promised, released her
mother, and walked down the pathway into Hawksbridge, waving her hand.
Simona had enjoyed traveling before, and now that she was on the
road again, she realized how much she had missed it. She took in a deep
breath and increased her pace.
"How did you ever convince Nai to stay behind?" Kal asked as he and
Simona walked briskly along the road that would take them to Northern
Hope.
"That was the easy part," Simona laughed. "Haven't you seen the way
Nai looked at my mother in these past months? I just suggested he keep
her company and talk about our travels. It was much harder to say
good-bye to mother. I didn't really tell her why we were leaving. I
couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. I don't think she'd
approve, but it is important to me. I'm sure Nai will let her know
eventually. Mother won't stop asking until then."
"What did you tell your mother?"
"That I had to go to Dargon and take care of unfinished business."
"And she didn't inquire to the nature of the business?"
"Not really. I think she was afraid to find out the truth."
"But you told Nai, straight?"
"I told him. How could I not? We've been traveling together for a
long time now. You helped me find my sister, and stayed with me so I
could find my mother. Without you two, I don't know if I would have had
the courage to go on."
"Then why did you leave Nai behind?"
Simona didn't answer.
"Simona?"
"Kalanu?"
"Why *did* you leave Nai behind?"
Simona's thoughts raced. Kal deserved an answer, but she wasn't
ready to give it. Several explanations shot through her mind: "I wanted
someone to stay with mother? I wanted to travel with only one companion?
I wanted mother to have someone to help her with the hard work and Nai
likes her?" None of the answers sounded convincing to her so she
remained silent.
"We'll be back before winter if all goes well." Simona finally
said.
"That is, if you find a mage to assist you quickly enough. What if
there isn't one there? What if no one in Northern Hope knows of a
powerful mage? What if there is one, but the people don't want others to
know? What --?"
"Kal!" Simona interrupted and halted in her tracks, making Kal halt
as well. "Stop it! We'll deal with that when it comes to it. I do not
want to spend the next few sennights arguing with you whether or not a
mage is in Northern Hope and whether or not he can do what I'll ask him
to do." She gave him a stern look. "You don't have to come along ..."
"As if I'd let you go by yourself," Kal interjected. "I had to
promise Nai --"
"Promise him what?"
"Promise him I'll take care of you and keep you safe."
"I can take care of myself," Simona retorted angrily, turning
towards Kal. "I don't need to be treated like a child. Is that why you
insisted on accompanying me?"
"No!" Kal said and reached out for her, his expression somber. He
spoke softly, "I wanted to be with you, Mona." The use of her childhood
name gave Simona a sense of belonging and warmth. When Kal's hand
touched her face she leaned into it and closed her eyes for a moment.
Her anger vanished. She felt his tender kiss on her lips and responded
hungrily, pulling him close. Time seemed to stop for Simona as a whole
array of feelings swept through her. When they finally separated, they
continued their walk in silence.
Simona kept her eyes on the path before her, thoughts racing
through her mind. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have
responded to his kiss. It's going to ruin our friendship. I want him to
kiss me again -- no, not again. This shouldn't be, can't be! It's been
too long since anyone tried to even come close. Why did I give in?" She
stomped one foot, kept her eyes down, and thereby missed the surprised
look Kal gave her. "I need this curse removed before I let anyone come
close. I care about him. But would he understand? I told him all about
the curse just yesterday. He's seen Megan and heard mother's story, yet
he seems not to believe it. I don't want to lose him. Why didn't I warn
him off?" she asked herself and the answer came as no surprise. "Because
I love him! And I don't want him to think I feel otherwise." Simona
continued walking in silence, listening to the twittering of the birds
and the sound her feet made on the dry dirt to take her mind off what
had just happened. She was so focused that she only heard Kal's voice
when he first spoke up, but not his words.
"Pardon me?" she said apologetically.
"Nightfall is near," Kal said. "We should make camp soon."
Simona looked up and realized he was right. She began gathering
firewood along the way. At the first sheltered place they reached they
set camp. After consuming a small meal, they settled down next to each
other for the night. Simona felt Kal's arm reach for her, as he had done
so many times in the past, resting his hand on her stomach. It meant
comfort to her and a sense of security, knowing he was close. Tonight
though, his hand didn't stop at her stomach, instead it caressed her
side ever so lightly and sent a tingling sensation through her body.
"Stop! Don't!" her mind screamed, but her body didn't listen. Instead it
responded to the caress, turned to face him, her hands returning the
caress on his body. By the time his lips found hers, Simona's mind had
given up any resistance and reservation she had harbored.
The next morning both Simona and Kalanu were slow to rise, each
reluctant to let go of the other. Eventually nature's call needed to be
answered and forced them up. Simona took her own time to return to the
campsite and only did so when she heard Kal call for her. She felt
uneasy and guilty that she had relented to her body's desire and that
she had given in so easily. "I can't take it back. Do I really want to?"
she thought and answered herself. "No."
"Kal," Simona began when she reached the campsite. "I --" Kal
placed a finger on her lips.
"Don't say it," he interrupted her. "Last night was wonderful. I
love you with all my heart. I'm yours ... forever!"
"I love you, too," she whispered and embraced him.
Simona and Kal quickly disassembled their makeshift camp and after
a small meal went on their way, smiling at each other, hands touching,
interlacing. For the next few sennights, they spent their days walking,
but only on a few occasions did Simona succumb to Kal's gentle demands.
She urged Kal to push forward, hoping to find a mage in Northern Hope.
Halfway through their journey, they stayed an extra day at a
roadside inn. Simona spent her day of rest inside the barroom, sitting
at a table, a tankard of ale in front of her, studying a map of northern
Baranur. She was trying to plan ahead should Northern Hope have no mage
in town.
"Maybe Greenmont next," she muttered to herself, "and then across
the Darst Range to Kenna. Stop at Fennell Keep and Shireton on the way
to Dargon."
"Or you could cross the Darst Range, go to Myridon and Tench, and
then make your way to Magnus," Kal whispered in her ear and then kissed
her neck. Simona had been so focused on her map, she hadn't heard him
approach from behind.
"It might be easier to get a ship to take us to Magnus from Dargon,
spend the winter there and with the first signs of spring, we'll
continue on. We're bound to find a wizard in Magnus; besides, it will be
good to spend some time at the College of Bards."
"Then why are we going to Northern Hope, if you know you can find
someone to help you in Magnus?"
"I'm not too keen on searching through the Fifth Quarter. The magi
living outside the Fifth Quarter have been of no help. Besides, there is
some kind of magic going on in Northern Hope that seems to make things
go wrong. Someone must be doing this and I intend to find out who."
The next day Kal and Simona set out for their final days of travel.
Kal had purchased more food and filled his bag not only with bread and
cheese, but also some dried meat and apples. He had also acquired a
second skin and filled it with water. Both had shouldered their bags
again and quickly picked up their usual walking pace.
Two and a half days travel away from the inn, the road to Northern
Hope became steep and less even. Loose stones littered the road and here
and there a gopher had decided to dig his entrance in the middle of the
path. Overgrown bushes on both sides of the road narrowed the way and
weeds had sprouted where usually wagon wheels would roll. It seemed this
road was even less traveled than the innkeeper had let on.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Kal asked after he'd climbed
over a fallen tree and given Simona a hand across.
"There is no other; I haven't seen any crossroads since we left the
inn."
"I'm not so sure about that. I mean, look at this road. It looks
like no one has traveled here in months."
"Just because no one bothered to remove the fallen tree, doesn't
mean that this isn't the right way," Simona replied and continued on.
"I need a break!" Kal stated and pulled his bag off his shoulder.
It was then that the strap ripped, the contents of their food bag fell
out, toppled downhill, and landed in the middle of a small creek.
"Turdation!" Kal cursed. "Our food! I have to go down and get it;
otherwise there won't be anything until we reach Northern Hope."
Simona emptied her bag and gave it to Kal. "I'll repair it while
you collect the food." Kal nodded and climbed down to the creek. Some of
their provisions had floated downstream and he spent the better part of
the afternoon retrieving it. When he finally returned to Simona the bag
contained only half of what had fallen out.
"The bread is all wet. What didn't wash down the creek, the birds
have picked up. Half of the meat was taken by animals. I got most of the
cheese and the apples." Kal sounded frustrated and tired.
"We'll find some berries along the road. I've seen quite a few
bushes with raspberries and blackberries." Simona tried to comfort Kal,
but with limited success. They made camp next to the fallen tree and
continued on their way the next morning.
Even though Simona had seen berry bushes and thought she'd find
berries along the way, she'd been wrong. All the bushes they found had
been picked clean. What was left was either dried up, full of worms, or
rotten. "I can't believe it," she muttered to herself. "Who out here
picks all the berries? It doesn't make sense. A road that's barely
traveled, yet not a single edible berry left."
Kal began setting traps at night, but had to take them down empty
in the morning. The bait was gone, and the traps triggered, yet no
animal was caught in it. Kal's mood went from angry to furious when he
realized that he had lost his flints.
"We must be getting close to Northern Hope," Simona remarked after
Kal told her about the flints.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, whoever is controlling Northern Hope has us in his realm.
It can't just be coincidence that the strap broke, we lost half of our
food, all the berry bushes are empty, no animal finds its way into your
traps, and then the flints go missing."
"And now this!" Kal commented as they walked around a bend and
stared at the road ahead of them. Where the road had been was now a
large gap. It seemed a mudslide had taken part of the mountain downhill
and ripped the road apart. Large boulders and fallen trees were easily
visible below their location. Any vegetation above the road had been
pulled out and sent downhill or been covered with dirt.
"We'll have to climb down and then up again," Kal said after
staring at the new obstacle for a few menes. "I don't think we can get
around it by crawling along the side. It doesn't look stable enough."
"I want to give it a try anyway," Simona said and approached the
western side of the road where boulders and gravel had torn down trees
and covered bushes.
"See here," she called out, "if you use these branches to hold on,
we can make it across. It will save us several bells of climbing. It is
already late in the day. Nightfall is a mere bell or two at the most."
Simona took her first step, reached for a branch to steady herself and
carefully set her foot down on a boulder. She shifted her weight. The
boulder stayed in place. She continued to slowly ease her way forward,
testing each step before she set her foot down and released the other.
Simona was almost across when the boulder she had thought to be safe
broke loose and rolled down hill. She let out a scream as she slipped,
slid down hill behind the boulder, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.
The last thing she heard was Kal yelling her name.
When Simona opened her eyes it was getting dark. She tried to sit
up, but found that most of her body was covered with dirt, gravel, and
broken branches. Slowly, she pulled her arms out and pushed the dirt
away from her chest. It was harder than she thought and soon she was
drenched in sweat, yet she had made little progress.
"Kal? Kal where are you?" she shouted.
"Looking for you! Keep talking so I can find you," Kal called.
"I'm over here and I'm stuck." Simona kept calling until she heard
his footsteps come closer. "Watch out! I'm buried up to my waist. Don't
step on me!"
"Are you hurt?" Kal asked as he sat next to her on the ground.
"I've been looking for you for over a bell and you didn't answer."
"My head hurts. I must have hit it on something. Other than that,
I'm stuck!"
"In half a bell we'll only have stars to light the sky," Kal
remarked, "Not sure that Nochturon can be seen tonight, too many clouds
where he should rise. Digging you out will take some time."
"Then hurry! I'm getting cold and I'm hungry." Simona used both
hands to move the dirt away from her body and Kal used a broken-off
branch as a lever to move a boulder that sat directly over Simona's
legs. She was finally free by the time the last of the daylight
vanished.
"Did you find my bags? I lost both when I fell and I'm not sure
what happened to my water skin," Simona said after she had eaten an
apple, which Kal had given her.
"Your water skin is torn. It can't be repaired. I found it while I
was looking for you. One of your bags is quite a bit further down. I was
about to go there when I heard you calling. The other? I don't know.
We'll have to look for it in the morning. Right now we should get away
from here, before something else falls on you."
"It's too dark," Simona said, afraid to move. "I won't be able to
see where I'm setting my feet. I might slip again."
"We only have to move a short distance to get off the debris. It's
where I came down. There is also some water nearby." Kal said, stood up,
and pulled Simona to a stand. "Can you walk?"
Simona took a couple of careful steps. "Straight, lead the way,"
Simona said, holding on to Kal's hand.
Within a few menes they reached the relative safety of the forest,
settled next to each other underneath the hanging branches of a large
tree, wrapped their blanket around themselves, and went to sleep.
Simona woke the next morning to find that Kal was already up and
gone. He had left his bags at her side. After finishing her morning
ablutions, she went looking for Kal. It didn't take her long to find
him.
"Look what I found," Kal greeted her with a broad smile on his
face. He held his hand up high and Simona could see something dripping
from it. Her eyes went wide when she realized what he was holding.
"Honey! You found honey!"
"Here, this is for you." He gave her a piece of honeycomb the size
of his hand.
"Thank you!" Simona broke it in half and passed a piece of the
dripping gold back. "We'll share!"
"I located your bags, too," Kal remarked after he had finished his
piece. "We'll get them when we cross the debris to get to the other
side. Then we need to climb back up. There might be a path on the other
side, I'm not quite sure though."
"Then let's go. I filled the water skin already." Simona reached
for the bags, shouldered one, and handed the other to Kal.
Even though there were considerably fewer boulders and broken
trees, they had to carefully climb over the debris. Kal had barely
managed to clear the last of the hurdles when he slipped, twisted his
ankle, and got his foot stuck in a gopher hole. Simona had to dig out
his foot. Simona was grateful that Kal could still walk and didn't have
a broken bone, though his foot looked quite swollen and it slowed their
progress. As she looked up the mountain to locate the road they had to
reach, she realized just how far she had slid down and how lucky she had
been. She could have been seriously hurt. Simona paled as she thought of
what could have happened. It was her fault that it would take them the
remainder of the day to climb back up.
Three days later, Simona and Kal arrived in Northern Hope just as
the sun was about to set. Their journey, which should have taken them a
fortnight, had taken them a sennight longer than anticipated due to the
mishaps during their travel.
"Finally!" Kal said as they walked past the first houses. The
streets seemed deserted, the houses empty. Some of the houses lay in
ruins.
"I wonder if anyone lives here?" Kal muttered, looking around.
"I could use a good meal," Simona replied, her stomach growling.
"Our last meal wasn't exactly --"
"You don't need to remind me," Kal grumbled. "If the strap of our
food bag hadn't broken, we'd have had enough."
"There must be people somewhere," Simona said as they walked past
the first houses. None of the windows were illuminated. "It's too early
for everyone to have gone to bed already."
Halfway down the street she spotted a house with light shining onto
the street. The door opened and a handful of people exited and hurried
down the street without giving the two travelers a glance. Simona looked
at Kal in surprise and was about to comment when the door opened again
and a woman carrying a large basket stepped out and walked towards them.
"Good day, mistress. Pardon my intrusion," Kal addressed the woman
when she had reached them. "We just arrived and need a place to stay for
the night. Which is the local inn?"
The woman stared at Simona. "A bard! Never seen a bard in town. Did
ya come to sing fo' us?"
Simona smiled. "I can, time permitting. What town is this?"
"'Tis Northern Hope," the woman said and carefully touched Simona's
arm.
Simona stepped half a step backward and the woman pulled her hand
back. "Would you be so kind to direct me to the local inn?"
"Da Lucky Round's over there," the woman replied and pointed in a
general direction. Simona looked where the woman had pointed and saw the
unmistakable sign of a pub.
"Let's go," Kal said. "I could use a warm meal and a soft bed."
"Many thanks," Simona said and the woman went on her way.
"Do you think the people in this inn know if a mage is here?" Kal
asked quietly after they'd entered the sparsely populated barroom. Three
old men in dirty clothing sat at a table, drinking ale. A plump woman
with brown hair tied in a bun, wearing a yellow dress, was cleaning
tables. Nonetheless, she had heard him and answered before Simona could
reply.
"Of course we would know!" the woman said with confidence.
"Everyone here knows him! My name is Dora. I'm the barmaid here."
"Him?" Kal gave Dora a quizzing look.
"He promised to get rid of the curse in town. Folk are curious to
see if he can."
"Where would the mage be?" Simona asked.
"I think Anarr is either at Lord Araesto's Cat or somewhere in the
mountains," Dora replied after a few moments of thought. "Don't know for
sure."
"Did you say Anarr is the mage in town?" Simona couldn't believe
her ears. It was more than she had hoped for. She had heard about Anarr
during her studies at the College of Bards. He had managed to use his
powers to extend his own life many times, even after being on his
deathbed. She thought, "He should be able to help me!" She felt
relieved. A bit of luck after all the mishaps of the past few days felt
good.
"Maybe we should go to that inn and stay there," Kal suggested.
Before Simona could answer the barmaid answered for her.
"You won't get a room there. 'Sides, we've got the better beds."
Simona grinned inwardly. She liked the woman. "We'll stay!" she
decided and sat down at a table. "Why don't you bring us some ale and a
bowl of whatever the cook made today?" The barmaid scurried away and in
no time returned with two bowls of stew, placed one in front of Simona
and handed the other to Kal.
"Are you going to eat standing?" Dora said indignantly. Kal shook
his head and then seated himself, picked up a spoon, and ate.
"Not too bad," he commented when the barmaid seemed out of earshot,
but she'd heard him again.
"What'd you mean, 'not too bad'?" Dora quickly moved back to their
table and stood in front of Kal, hands on her hips. "That's the best
stew in town! And there better not be anything left in the bowl when I
come to pick it up!"
Simona had to bite her lip not to burst out laughing. She turned
her head instead and coughed. Kal swallowed hard. "Of course not," he
managed to reply and Dora stepped away from their table. Kal and Simona
finished their meal in silence.
When Dora returned, she inquired, "What brings you here? We've
never seen a bard in town. Are you going to sing for us?"
"Not tonight, Dora. I'm thirsty and in need of rest," Simona said.
"Maybe a short song? While I get you some ale? Please?" Dora's eyes
begged even more than her voice. Simona gave in and pulled her lyre from
her bag. She gently plucked the strings on her instrument and began to
sing, telling the story of her sister Megan as she had heard it from the
people who had known her.
"What a sad story." Dora wiped tears from her eyes and placed two
tankards of ale on the table.
"Would you mind telling us where our room is?" Simona asked and
packed her lyre away. She then reached for one of the tankards and took
several sips of ale.
"You two married?" Dora asked. Simona looked at her in amazement.
"What does it matter? We only need one room," Kal said before
Simona could speak up.
"T'is a respectable inn," Dora replied and pointed towards a wooden
door. "You can sleep on the second floor. Through this door here, up the
stairs, first door on your right. And you," Dora pointed at Simona, "can
sleep in my room. I only have one empty room anyway. All others are
taken."
"It's quite alright --" Simona said, but Dora didn't let her
finish.
"He might take advantage of you. You'll stay with me." Dora
wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, Simona had no doubt about that. Taking
one look at Kal's face, she grinned. He seemed overrun by superior
power.
"I'll see you in the morning," Simona said, placed a quick kiss on
his cheek, and picked up her bag. "We'll try to find Anarr then."
"Straight," Kal replied and downed the contents of his tankard
without stopping. "I'll see you in the morning."
========================================================================
Idol Hands
Part 1
by Jon Evans
29 Yuli, 1018
Edmond was not considered a learned man by any means. He could not
read, could only write an approximation of his name, and had no skills
that he could use to make a living. While it was true that he had
apprenticed as a blacksmith, there was no work for another smith in the
small town of Northern Hope. Furthermore, every single business venture
he had attempted had failed miserably. Many of the townsfolk were in the
same predicament: the curse of Northern Hope had struck both noblemen
and paupers. So as he sat at the table, staring across at the man who
had just offered him a job, it didn't take him long to make up his mind.
"I'll do it," he said.
"I thought you might," Anarr said. "There is a certain desperation
in your eyes, though I suppose that can be said of most of this town's
inhabitants; the curse of Northern Hope seems to have had that effect on
everyone." Anarr reached into his robes and produced two Rounds. He slid
them across the table, the silver metal tinted red by the waning
daylight coming through the window. "This is for expenses, and as a
retainer. You'll get three more in Dargon. Tomorrow, we shall travel to
the ruins, and return here the day after. After that, prepare for rough
travel; we go to Dargon via Kenna, across the Darst Range."
"Kenna?" Edmond screwed his face up in confusion. "Why not take the
Asbridge River to the Cirr--"
"Too long," Anarr replied. "I want to get this package to Dargon as
quickly as possible, and the route over the Darst Range is faster."
Edmond silently acknowledged that going through Kenna would be
faster, though he was leery of traveling through the Darst Range. The
ill-fortune that ran rampant through Northern Hope and its environs was
dangerous on level ground; combining it with mountain travel could be
devastating.
Edmond glanced casually around Lord Araesto's Cat -- or the Cat, as
the inn was commonly known. Dusk was approaching, but it was not quite
dark enough to light the rush lamps. A dim haze settled in the air, as
two score patrons enjoyed an evening drink at their tables or seated at
the bar. Behind the counter, Moritan busied himself by wiping mugs with
an old towel, smiling proudly, and serving orders. In front of him,
burned into the wood of the bar, was the reason Lord Araesto's Cat
enjoyed its increased popularity: the hand prints of Anarr the mage. It
had only been two days, but already the hand prints were legendary, and
everyone wanted to see the mark Anarr had left on their town.
Anarr reached out to the pewter mug on his table, and wrapped his
hand around it. He scowled, then closed his eyes and muttered something
under his breath. Edmond saw dew gather on the outside of the pewter and
a thin layer of ice form over the ale inside. Anarr opened his eyes and
looked up at Edmond. "Wine, I enjoy at its natural temperature; ale, I
prefer chilled."
In the corner, gaming dice rattled and clicked as two patrons
entertained themselves. Edmond felt a familiar urge to investigate, to
see who was playing, and to find out what the stakes were. Could he join
in? Then he firmed his resolve, tightened his jaw, and gripped the table
with his hands. "I should be going," he said.
"What prompts you to leave so quickly?" Anarr asked.
"Nothing, really," Edmond lied. Again the dice crashed against the
corner. Edmond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I have some
things to do," Edmond said. He rose from his seat on the bench. "I'll
meet you here at sunrise."
Anarr scowled again. "Don't spend it all on one whore."
"You did what?"
Isabelle stood at her window, her blond hair turned fiery-red by
the sun setting in the mountains. With the light behind her, Edmond
could not make out her eyes, but he was certain they were focused in his
direction with intense displeasure.
"I took a job," he repeated.
"In Dargon," she stated. He could hear sadness and frustration in
her voice.
"Only going to Dargon," he replied. "I'll be back in three
sennights."
"I could be dead in three sennights." She looked down at the dirt
floor of her room, the strands of her hair falling loosely to the sides
of her face. "You know this town is cursed." The words seemed to come
from behind a mask.
"Isabelle." He crossed the room to her. She turned her back to him,
but allowed his arms to enfold her. "Anarr has removed the curse."
"He says he removed it," she replied. Her voice was sad and tired.
Northern Hope had done little to make her happy, and Edmond's gaming had
done less. "How do we know he's even capable of that?"
"I saw him use magic to chill his beer at the pub."
"Oh, well!" she exclaimed. She turned around to face him then,
breaking out of his embrace. "If he can chill his beer, then certainly
he's powerful enough to break a curse!"
Edmond sighed. This was not going according to plan. Not that he
had actually formed a plan, but if he had, it would not have included
arguing with his betrothed. He looked around the small home they shared.
It was barely more than a shack. It had four walls and one window. The
floor was packed dirt, and they shared a straw-filled mattress. She kept
her dresses and a hairbrush in a chest by the side of the bed. He kept a
spare shirt and coat on a hook nailed into the wall. He was quite aware
of the poverty they endured. He was also aware that it was his fault.
"Isabelle, we cannot afford to marry without any money, and there aren't
any jobs for me in this town."
"When we lived in Pyridain, you apprenticed as a blacksmith," she
stated.
"We've had this conversation before. Northern Hope has a blacksmith
already, and there's barely enough work to keep him in business. And the
crops didn't take. The cattle got sick and died."
"If that was all part of the curse," Isabelle started, "and the
curse is now lifted, then why can't you try those things again?" She
turned to him, her eyes pleading.
"I can. We can," Edmond insisted. "But we need money to start, and
we don't have any."
"We did," she said softly.
It was his turn, now, to drop his eyes to the floor. He was sure
she had not intended to hurt him, but he was all too aware of his
problem. He'd given up the dice over the past month, but it was as much
due to circumstance as any promises he had made: they had nothing left
to sell.
"I need to take this job. I was lucky to get it!"
Isabelle sighed, and stared down at the dirt floor. "Alright," she
conceded. She looked up into his eyes. "But three sennights, no more."
"No more," he agreed.
"And no gambling," she added, and he heard the warning in her tone.
"No gambling, either," he promised.
"Good," she said.
Edmond folded his arms around her again, this time to comfort her.
He smelled the scent of flowers in her hair. The warmth of her body
pressed against him. His mind seemed to go blank while his heart beat
faster. Isabelle looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded. Her stare
swallowed him. She tilted her head slightly, then softly pressed her
warm lips against his. When she next spoke, her voice was deep, smooth,
and sultry. "If you're going to be away for a while, give me something
to remember you."
Edmond had delayed visiting his parents' home as long as possible.
Isabelle had given him good reason, but it was also because he simply
did not want to face either of them. He did not think he had the courage
to ask them for anything more.
Edmond's parents ran a dried goods store in Northern Hope, and
Edmond had nearly caused its ruin. He owed them money -- money that he
had gambled away in the dark corners of the Cat -- and he could not pay
them back. They had covered his losses on more than one occasion. They
were his parents, after all. But the last time he had come home to them
with empty pockets and beer on his breath, instead of the sennight's
profits from the till, they had thrown him out.
Edmond's mother met him at the door to her home, she on the inside
and he outside. The door had two sections, allowing the top to open
while the bottom stayed closed. Thus his mother guardedly greeted her
son.
"It's late," she stated, but Edmond did not tell her what had
delayed him. She frowned. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I've come for some of my things, mother."
She tilted her head sideways, sizing her son up with a skeptical
squint of her eyes. "Can you pay for them?"
Edmond lowered his gaze. "Some," he replied. "And more, when I
return."
"We've heard that before, Edmond. Your father and I are not
throwing our coin away again."
"They're my things!" he insisted.
"Not anymore. They're all we have to cover our losses. Your
losses," she added.
Edmond reached into his pocket and withdrew one of the two Rounds
that Anarr had given him. "There's more to be earned, but not if I can't
have my things."
"One Round is only a beginning for what you owe us," she said in a
soft and dangerous voice.
"Then let me make that beginning," he pleaded. "I need my sword,"
Edmond begged.
"Why?"
"I have a job. Real work."
"Who would hire you?" his mother sneered.
"Anarr the mage."
Edmond arrived at Lord Araesto's Cat promptly at dawn. Anarr sat
waiting in the common room, the remains of his breakfast on the table.
The proprietor looked haggard and sleepy, unaccustomed to visitors
actually waking before dawn. When Edmond waved hello, the proprietor
scowled and went into the kitchen.
"Incompetent bumpkin," Anarr muttered. "I look forward to eating in
a respectable establishment." Anarr's hawkish eyes peered at Edmond, his
long nose sniffed the air, and his bushy eyebrows rose as he said,
"Surprising. She wasn't a whore, after all."
Edmond twitched. "How --?" he started, and then shook his head.
"Isabelle and I are betrothed."
Anarr rolled his eyes. "Surprised again," he said dryly. "My brief
respect for you has dwindled already." Anarr waved his hand in the
direction of the stairs. "I have some supplies in my room. Bring them to
the mule out back."
Edmond hesitated, but did as he was told. He had never been a
mercenary by profession, but he was reasonably certain that carrying
goods like a merchant's stock boy was not part of the job. However, this
was his first assignment. He owned his sword and nothing more. If he was
going to make a living as a mercenary -- at least for the time being --
it was in his best interest to make sure his employer was happy. He
therefore went to Anarr's room to retrieve the supplies.
Edmond held the reins of the mule as he followed Anarr along their
path. They had traveled up and down hills, into a heavily forested area,
and finally into a sink hole at the base of a mountain. Edmond was
surprised that Anarr had been able to find it, as the nearby terrain hid
the entrance from casual observance. The walls of the pit were dotted
with steaming cracks that drained hot liquid down their edges. The steam
also made the surrounding rocks slippery and dangerous, though somehow
Anarr picked a dry path for their descent. Sweat poured down Edmond's
back, soaking his shirt and pants. He trudged along on weary legs, and
his tentative steps were evidence of the blistered feet within his
boots. His sword hung from his waist, as he had no scabbard for it, and
slapped against his aching thigh with every step. He was, in a word,
irritated.
Anarr, on the other hand, strolled along as if he were walking in a
clear field instead of into a hot pit of steam. He kept his beak-like
nose pointed steadily towards their destination: some point up the
canyon as far as Edmond could tell. Edmond wondered at Anarr's apparent
age; he had the smooth skin and muscle tone of a man with thirty
summers, yet tales of his adventures were many decades old. Was this the
same man? Perhaps, Edmond considered, this mage had simply taken Anarr's
name. Not that it mattered to him; his money was as good as anyone
else's.
Edmond looked at the sun. "Are we there yet?" he asked.
"You remind me of a child," Anarr stated, not pausing in his pace.
"There's a reason I never reproduced."
"Well, it's bloody hot down here, and I'm tired. We've been walking
all day."
"We've only been walking for six bells," Anarr replied. "And the
heat you are suffering is brought on by the exercise, of which you are
in desperate need."
Edmond muttered to himself, "This steaming pit of hell might have
something to do with it."
"I beg your pardon?" Anarr asked.
"Nothing," Edmond replied. But a moment later he asked, "If you're
such a powerful mage --"
"Magus!" Anarr shouted. He stopped and turned to face Edmond. "The
word is 'magus', not 'mage'."
"What's the difference?"
"A magus is a man who has been trained in the arcane arts, who has
wisdom and power beyond regular men."
"And a mage?"
"A mage is nothing," Anarr sneered. "It is a made-up word; it is
slang spoken by some cretin whose sole capacity for speech lay in
monosyllabic banter, and worked its way into popular vocabulary by
virtue of the laziness ever present in the uneducated mass of society."
"Oh," Edmond said. Anarr turned around and began walking again.
"Well if you're such a powerful *magus*, perhaps you could do some
tricky magic thing and get us there already. My legs are breaking."
Edmond said.
Anarr stopped again and turned to face him. "Your legs are
decidedly not breaking. I could, as you say, perform some 'tricky magic
thing' to rectify that situation if you like. Hmmn?" Anarr's eyebrows
rose with the question. "No, I thought not. Nor did I think you would
realize that I have, in fact, already eased our travels through this
day. Did you fail to notice the complete lack of obstacles on our path,
or the ease with which we traversed the entrance to this canyon? Or did
you think that an ancient path, unused by man for many years, would be
as easily trod upon as a cobbled stone street?" Edmond opened his mouth
to answer, but Anarr did not give him the opportunity. "No, let me
guess. You didn't think about it, did you? You simply didn't think at
all."
Edmond sighed and lowered his gaze.
"I can offer you one comfort, however, that you may not be
expecting, though why I bother is beyond even my cognizance." Anarr
said. Edmond lifted his eyes toward Anarr, expecting very little after
that last tirade. Anarr was pointing at a pool of water in the base of
the ravine. "Where these two water sources meet -- the one hot from the
walls of the gorge and the other cold from the mountain spring -- there
is a pleasant medium, worthy of revisit. We shall take a brief respite,
and wash the grime of travel from our bodies."
Edmond thanked the gods.
Edmond had seen broken or burned down homes in the past. He had
seen half-destroyed castles, and had experienced the destruction of an
invading army first hand as Beinison soldiers forcibly occupied
Pyridain. The ruins Anarr had led him to, however, were hundreds of
years old, their form deteriorated by the slow decay of time. Edmond
would not have even recognized them as part of a settlement. They were,
for the most part, circular mounds that merely hinted at buildings. A
few remnants of stone walls were knee-high, indicating where sturdier
dwellings once stood. The long shadows of the approaching evening added
their darkness to the surrounding decay.
A few conifers grew in the area, assisting in dismantling and
hiding the remaining structures. Only one building looked to be in the
least bit habitable, and it had saplings growing out of the disheveled
thatching of its roof. But there was a feeling in the air, a crispness
that seemed to sharpen his senses. His curiosity was piqued; the
presence of a roof on that structure made it stand out. He wanted to
know more about these ruins. Who had lived here? Why had they left? What
did they leave behind? Was there any ... treasure?
Edmond pulled the mule into a flat square of grass bordered by
stones that looked to be the remains of a former structure. He relieved
the mule of its burden, and tied it off to a small tree. The mule began
to munch the grass contentedly.
"Come," Anarr called to Edmond. "There remains work to be done
today."
Anarr then led Edmond past the stone remains, and down a narrow
dirt path. The path ended abruptly against a stone wall where the mouth
of a small cave was partially covered with ivy.
"Here," Anarr offered Edmond the lamp. "This is the entrance. Take
the lamp and enter."
Edmond stopped short. "Excuse me?" he asked. "There could be
anything in there. Wolves. A bear."
"There are none within, I promise you," Anarr said.
"Then what is in there?"
"The statue of a god, finely wrought, ancient and beautiful. Worth
a small fortune. It is a rare and wondrous find," Anarr stated
reverently.
Edmond smiled wryly. "No, really, what's in there?"
"Enter!" Anarr commanded, and Edmond suddenly felt a compulsion
that outweighed his fear to enter the cave.
The cave was low at the entrance, its ceiling slanted sideways with
the angle of the mountain. Edmond ducked to avoid knocking his head
against the stone. Once inside, the ceiling slowly took on a more
rounded appearance, with occasional circular swirls ascending into
shallow domes. Thin, tubular rock formations hung down, dripping water
onto small rounded growths on the ground. The humidity in the cave was
noticeable, though not oppressive.
Down the tunnel, something glinted. It drew Edmond forward, shining
brightly one moment and dully the next. He couldn't quite make it out
from where he stood. He held the lamp in front and walked slowly toward
the object. When he saw it for the first time, he could hardly believe
his eyes.
Anarr had not lied. In front of him was an ornate statue of a man
-- perhaps a god, perhaps a demon -- sitting cross-legged with a sword
flat across his lap. The statue was jet black, its head thrown back, its
mouth open as if yelling at the sky, revealing sharp teeth. The sword
was made of pure silver, and its eyes glinted red in the lantern's
light. When he looked closely at the statue, he realized the man was in
agony. A sense of pity overcame him, then. He felt sorry for the statue.
It seemed a ridiculous thought, to feel pity for a statue, and yet he
could not help himself.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Anarr asked. Edmond jumped, not realizing
the magus had followed him in.
"Yes," Edmond admitted. "But who is it?"
"Gow," Anarr replied, "distorted by Amante. He suffers, and so the
land around him suffers."
"Who is Gow?" Edmond asked.
"Gow is the Beinison god of love and honorable battle. Mark the
difference: chivalrous battle is not necessarily war."
"And Amante?"
Anarr smiled. "Amante. Once a god of love, turned to lies and
thievery by his jealousy. There is much more to the story, but I don't
have time to educate you on religious and mythological matters."
"Then this statue is the source of the curse?"
"In a manner of speaking," Anarr replied. "Amante's curse is the
source, but the curse has been placed upon this statue. I only recently
discovered the proper supplications to bind the curse, but they are
temporary, at best. Eventually, a means of removing the curse must be
found, or, barring that, destroying the statue."
"That seems ... unfortunate," Edmond said. The statue was a work of
art, despite depicting the god in pain.
"Come," Anarr said. "We
must get to work and move the statue
outside the cave. Tomorrow, we shall load it onto the mule."
"That statue looks heavy," Edmond said. "The mule won't be happy."
In fact, the mule was *not* happy.
At first, Edmond did not think moving the statue would be possible.
It was not so much that it was too heavy, but it was bulky and difficult
to maneuver in the cramped space of the cave. Edmond did not wish to
damage such a finely-wrought sculpture. He soon found, however, that the
statue was virtually indestructible. While trying to lift it, Edmond had
dropped it onto the solid stone of the floor. Any item dropped onto the
rock floor would have displayed a dent, a mark, a scratch. The statue
did not; it was completely unblemished by the fall. Anarr had suggested
making a row of log rollers on the cave floor, and then pushing it
slowly out of the cave. However, that would have been a lengthy process
in and of itself.
Eventually, Anarr tried magic. Edmond said that any magus of
Anarr's reputation would have tried that earlier, and was then subjected
to a long and tiring discourse on the dangers of magic and its misuse.
Edmond was also instructed that, in Anarr's opinion, there were not any
other magi of his reputation. Eventually he had admitted that the
curse's influence had recently hindered his magic. However, now that the
curse had been abated, his magic seemed to work fine. Anarr had been
able to simply lighten the weight of the statue, which made it easier
for Edmond to maneuver.
In the morning, they placed the statue in a rucksack and fastened
it onto the mule. Therefore, the mule was not happy. Anarr, on the other
hand, seemed happy that his task was nearly complete. Edmond found
himself somewhere between the two as they began their return trip to
Northern Hope.
Edmond smiled as he and Anarr walked down the center of Northern
Hope's main street. It was good to be home, even after only one day
away. Strangers and friends alike whispered and murmured to each other
as they glanced in his direction, at the mule with the large pack on its
back, and especially at Anarr, who walked with more than his usual
amount of obvious pride. Anarr's self-importance was bad enough; the
additional awe and honor Northern Hope would shower him with would make
him unbearable.
As they approached the Cat, Edmond recognized Kael Forester and two
others walking toward them. "Greetings, milord Anarr, and welcome on
your return to Northern Hope!" Kael nodded as he spoke. He seemed
uncertain of himself, but that did not surprise Edmond. Most of the
town's leaders were uncertain of anything, after the past two years of
bad luck. "I am Kael Forester, the regent of these lands. I wonder if I
and my fellow councilmen might share a word with you?"
Anarr paused, then smiled and replied, "Gentlemen, I am at your
service."
Kael leaned forward and whispered. "It would be best if we could
speak privately. We would like to discuss your ... ah, expedition before
rumor sets the town in an uproar."
Anarr nodded. "Milord Forester, I appreciate your discretion, and
will place myself at your disposal. However, I have spent the last five
days trudging back and forth through the forest and performing magics
sufficient to bind the very gods." Edmond sighed and rolled his eyes. "I
must see that my cargo is safely secured, and then I am going to enjoy
the best meal that this backwater hovel can prepare. I hope that you and
your councilmen will find it convenient to seek me in my quarters here
at, say, second bell of evening?"
Kael met Anarr's gaze and nodded back. "Indeed. Very well. Second
bell."
As they retreated, Anarr swung back toward the tavern, only to bump
into a woman who had appeared at their side during the conversation. She
was a black-haired woman, attractive enough, but it was her blue-painted
lips that made her stand out. She was a stranger to Northern Hope, as
far as Edmond could tell. "Anarr, I need to talk to you," she said. "I
need your help to lift a terrible curse which has afflicted my family
for gen--"
"Silence!" shouted Anarr, and her words were choked off, though her
mouth still tried to form words. Anarr was suddenly bristling with
annoyance, though Edmond could see no reason for the outburst.
"I am here because I choose to be here," he said. "I am not here to
cure your affliction, or those of your family or your god-forsaken
village! Nor am I bound by some silly creed to help every diseased or
misbegotten peasant who crawls up to me. I have far more important works
to do. Be gone!"
Anarr turned, his eyes smoldering. "Edmond! Bring the artifact up
to our room."
"But ... but the room's on the second storey! You hired me to guard
the statue, not carry it everywhere you go ..."
Anarr spat back at him. "Then get one of your local buddies to do
it. Or hire someone; I already gave you two Rounds! I don't want that
thing out of your or my sight until we're safely in Dargon." Then he
left, storming his way into the Cat, and probably, Edmond thought,
throwing people out of his way as he did so.
"'I don't want it out of my sight,'" Edmond mimicked Anarr, adding
a whine to his voice. "And what's with the 'our' room? It's his, not
mine," he continued speaking aloud to himself while he removed the
package from the mule's back.
"Excuse me," asked a woman, "is that, or is that not, Anarr, the
famous mage?"
"He's no mage," Edmond replied. "He's a pain in my ass."
The mule snorted its agreement.
Edmond's guard duty started early the next morning when he awoke
next to the statue. Anarr had gone for a morning walk, and then off to
the main street; the town elders had declared a festival day to
celebrate Anarr's accomplishment, and he was expected to make an
appearance. There was no one else at the inn, Edmond was certain, but
Anarr had assured him that if someone were going to steal the statue,
the festival would be an excellent distraction. So he kept awake,
despite the pleasant drumming of the rain against the roof.
And then he heard the front door open and close. Someone was
walking along the floor on the lower level. Whoever it was, they were
being quiet. He heard the sound of a chair scraping briefly against the
floorboards, then a creak on the steps. Edmond held his sword in his
right hand and looked around the room. Where should he attack from?
Behind the door? No, then he wouldn't be able to see who was coming into
the room. He crept to the door and quietly slid the bolt. The metallic
click sounded as loud as a drum. The festival music drifted through the
window, in time with the beating rain. Edmond's heart was racing; the
leather handle of the sword felt sticky against his sweaty palms.
Perhaps it was just another guest? Then the stranger tried to open the
door, only to find it bolted. Edmond knew it was no accident this person
was trying to get into the room. If they somehow managed to break the
bolt, then Edmond knew he was going to have to fight.
Then the stranger knocked on the door.
"Edmond?" a woman's voice called to him.
Edmond dropped the sword and slipped the bolt, sighing in relief.
"Isabelle!" he shouted as he opened the door. She stood in the doorway,
wearing her best yellow dress. It was spotted with raindrops, but her
soft blond hair had been kept dry by her green shawl, now draped around
her shoulders.
"The hero of Northern Hope," she said. She smiled warmly and her
blue eyes shone as she stepped through the doorway.
"Not quite," Edmond said. He blushed bashfully, and took her into
his arms.
When Anarr returned to the inn, he was accompanied by the woman
with blue-painted lips, whose name was Simona. Anarr dismissed Edmond
and Isabelle, and they willingly left his company to enjoy the festival.
Despite the rain, musicians filled the streets: flutists and pipers
lined the muddy roads, fiddlers and drummers played under tents. Vendors
hawked food, speeches were made, and dancing ensued. A fight broke out
between Gaston the Elder and a farmer named Hendrich, over a matter of
little importance, but due to the nature of the celebration, neither was
impounded in the stocks.
The time Edmond and Isabelle spent at the festival passed all too
quickly. Edmond received many compliments and good wishes from the
townsfolk for being involved with removing the curse. Even his parents,
who were the gruffest of his critics, wished him well. Ultimately,
however, Anarr summoned him back to duty. "You are in my employ to guard
this statue, not frolic with women," Anarr stated. "Celebrate when you
return. We leave for Dargon."
"Dargon," thought Edmond. He had heard great tales of Dargon, but
had never visited the city. Dargon had repelled the Beinison invaders,
something the people of Pyridain had failed to do. Clifton Dargon, the
duke, was said to be a great captain, and his fleet had defeated the
Beinisonians during the war. How magnificent the harbor must be! How
imposing the fortress! How proud the people! Edmond began packing
supplies for the journey, momentarily forgetting his life in Northern
Hope.
========================================================================
