The Savage Realms

by Willard Black

  A frown formed on Mercer’s face. “How do you propose to do that?”

  “Do you have a map?”

  Mercer went up to his room. While he was gone, Beorn came back to ask if they required anything else. Trix ordered more wine. When Mercer returned, he had a soft leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He rummaged around inside and came out with a folded sheet of parchment which he smoothed out on the table. The map was hand drawn in faded ink, and the creases where it had been folded often had nearly worn right through the page, but it was legible. Near the top of the map was a long ridgeline of low hills and a rambling line. Allison pointed to the hard line tracing the hills. “What’s here?”

  “That’s the wall,” Mercer told her.

  She questioned him with a glance.

  “That’s the edge of our world,” he explained. “There is nothing beyond the wall.”

  Allison put her finger on the table where the map stopped. “The money is here.”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Drake asked.

  Allison shook her head. “That is where the coordinates lead.”

  “I told you she didn’t know what she was talking about,” Drake said.

  Mercer held up a hand. “There must be some mistake. There’s nothing beyond the wall. You can’t go past it.”

  “Hell, you’d never even get over it,” Drake added.

  “I’m telling you, the money is beyond that wall.”

  Mercer shook his head. “Maybe you need to take another look at those numbers. Maybe you made a mistake.”

  “I didn’t make a mistake,” she told him. “My numbers are good.”

  Trix sat staring at the map, a small frown on her face. She said, “What if she’s right?”

  “What are you thinking?” Mercer asked.

  Trix said, “What if it’s an expansion?”

  Drake sat back in his seat, looked up at the ceiling, and whistled. “They’ve been hinting at an expansion for a while now.”

  “What’s an expansion?” Allison wanted to know.

  “An expansion pack,” Mercer said, as if that explained anything. Allison only stared at him. He said, “It’s an addition to the gaming world. It would open up new territories and new places to explore.”

  Allison shrugged. “All I know is the money is not on this map.”

  “It makes sense,” Trix said. “What better way to introduce an expansion?”

  “How come no one has discovered it before now?” Drake wanted to know.

  “Because we’ve been running all over the known world looking for the money,” Mercer said. “No one thought to look outside the known world.”

  “And you said it yourself,” Trix added. “The wall is next to impossible to scale.”

  “Which begs the question,” said Drake, “How are we going to get over it?”

  Mercer shook his head. “One problem at a time. We have to reach it first.”

  “So what do we do now?” Allison asked.

  “We’ll need fresh mounts,” Mercer said.

  Trix tipped a nod in Allison’s direction. “And clothes. She can’t go galloping across the Realms in a shift.”

  Mercer frowned and nodded. “Drake and I will see to horses and supplies first thing in the morning. You take Allison for clothes. She’ll need cold weather gear.”

  “How far is it to the wall?” Allison asked.

  “About four hundred miles as the crow flies,” Mercer told her. “A lot farther by land. Do you know how to ride a horse?”

  Allison felt her stomach clench. “I’ve never even seen a real horse.”

  “There’s nothing to it,” Trix said. She glanced at Mercer and a knowing grin played around the corners of her mouth. “It’s just like riding a man. Wrap your legs around him and hold on tight.”

  Drake seemed to wilt, and Mercer cleared his throat. “We’d all better get to sleep,” Mercer said. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

  Allison turned to Trix. “Can I bunk with you? I don’t have any money.”

  Trix glanced at Mercer and then back to Allison. There was an almost imperceptible pause and then she said, “Sure. Of course.”

  The storm didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. Beorn returned with a jug of wine and, after forcing the boys to step into the hall, Allison and Trix dressed themselves. The fire, for the most part, had dried out their clothes. Trix’s leather was still damp. Allison’s simple wool sack dress was dry, but stiff, and she kept the blanket for warmth. The temperature outside was dropping fast. She could feel cool drafts worming through the walls of the inn like ghostly fingers.

  The three adventurers sat around the table, pouring over the map, discussing the best possible routes north while Allison curled up in her seat and listened, trying to soak in as much information as possible. She felt like a third wheel. They spoke of mountains and canyons and factions that had no meaning to Allison. It was late when they finally decided to turn in.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The bedroom on the second floor of the Grey Havens was a spacious chamber with a pair of windows shuttered against the storm. The room looked like something from ancient memory and reminded Allison of a fairy tale populated with lords and ladies, knights in shining armor, and dragons. In the four corners of the room stood pillars carven in the shape of heroic men with their heads bowed, the ceiling resting on their stout shoulders. The furnishings were more modest. The bed was a lumpy feather down mattress on a low pallet and the rug was a threadbare straw mat.

  Trix lit an oil lamp and the flickering light drove back the shadows. Outside, thunder rolled, and lightening flashed across the sky. Rain lashed the stout wood shutters and Allison saw flashes of light lime the wood slats. A cool breeze whistled around the window frames.

  “Bit drafty,” Allison observed.

  “Get used to it,” Trix told her. “This will be the last night we spend under a roof for several days.”

  “Do you think we’ll run into any more pirates?” Allison asked. “On the road north?”

  Trix shook her head. “We’ll be on land most of the way. But there are worse things in the Realms than pirates.”

  Allison went to the bed and sat on the corner. It was surprisingly comfortable, but maybe that was exhaustion setting in. Her eyelids felt heavy and her legs were lead.

  Trix barred the door before unbuckling her belts and hanging her knives on the corner of the bedpost within easy reach. She sat down on the opposite side of the bed and worked off her boots.

  “How long will it take?” Allison asked.

  “Hard to say,” Trix told her. “Four or five weeks if we don’t run into any complications.”

  “What are the chances of complications?”

  “About as good as the chance for rain.”

  Allison sighed. They were quiet for a while and then she said, “So . . . You and Mercer?”

  Trix stopped with one boot in hand and turned to face her.

  “I’m sorry,” Allison said. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought I detected a vibe.”

  Trix dropped the boot on the floor with a thunk and went to work on the other. “Yeah, sometimes.”

  “He seems nice,” Allison said.

  “He’s an asshole,” Trix told her. “He’s dumb as an ox and twice as stubborn.”

  Allison laughed. “Sounds like most guys.”

  “He’s also loyal and good in a fight,” Trix added.

  “What about Drake?”

  “What about him?”

  Allison said, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  “Drake doesn’t like anyone very much.” Trix stood up, worked the buckles on her leather armor, and shrugged out of it. Allison had been hoping Trix would sleep in her clothes, but that apparently wasn’t going to happen. Trix started in on her leather pants and Allison turned to face the wall.

  “What’s his problem?” Allison asked.

  “He was born with a stick up his butt,” Trix said. She
stripped out of her pants and said, “Drake thinks he’s better than us. He sees himself as a baron at the very least. Truth be told, he’s one of the best sorcerers in the game. And he knows it. But without a team, he’s nothing. He needs us to survive and it rankles him.”

  Trix doused the lamp and stretched out on the bed.

  Allison laid down next to her and stared up at the dark ceiling. “So Mercer is a fighter. Drake is a sorcerer. What do you do?”

  “I’m good at stealth, daggers, and bows,” Trix told her. “I’m also a fair hand at lockpicking.”

  “I guess I’m kind of a third wheel,” Allison said.

  “You won’t be here long.”

  Still staring at the dark ceiling, Allison asked, “What’s that mean?”

  “It’s not like you’re going to stick around after you get the money,” Trix said. “You’ll leave the Realms and live on the profit.”

  Allison thought about it and nodded. “Sure. Won’t you?”

  “This is my home.”

  Allison turned onto her side and propped her head on her elbow. “You mean you wouldn’t leave if you were rich?”

  “For me,” Trix said, “the real world is the illusion. Why would I want to go back to traffic jams and pollution? So I can check social media every five minutes and see pictures of cats and someone’s lunch? Why put up with all the mundane bullshit? The real world is all about keeping up with the Joneses. People in the real world go into debt buying houses and cars, getting boob jobs and hair implants, trying to prove to strangers they’ve got it made. It’s all bullcrap. Things here are simple. Either you live or you die. No one here cares how many followers you have on Twitter, what kind of car you drive, or what brand handbag you’re carrying.”

  Allison laid back down and thought that over. After a moment she said, “True, but the real world has a lot fewer pirates.”

  “There’s that,” Trix said. She reached down and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. “Get some sleep. You’re going to need it. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was noon before Allison and her new companions rode through the northern gates of Tanthus. Mercer had pounded on their door before sun up and Allison came awake with a start, a scream dying on her lips. Wicked men with bloodstained knives and leering faces had chased her through kaleidoscopic nightmares. Trix went to the door, still naked, drew back the bolt, and told Mercer they’d be down shortly.

  They breakfasted in the same private dining room, then Trix had taken Allison out to buy riding clothes while Mercer went in search of fresh mounts and Drake purchased provisions. Trix bought Allison a pair of suede riding breeches, leather boots, and a thick woolen cloak, which Allison would need as they got further north. It wasn’t the best the shopkeeper had to offer, but it wasn’t the worst either. Allison thanked Trix profusely and promised to pay her back when they found the money.

  “If we find the money,” Trix corrected.

  The sun was high overhead as they rode beneath an arched passage in a massive stone wall which protected Tanthus from invaders. Men at arms stood by the open gate and archers patrolled along the wall. Beyond the defenses lay a sprawling village of half-timber houses with thatched roofs and hard-packed lanes. Chickens ran underfoot, clucking and pecking at the dirt.

  Allison sat atop a small blonde mare, clutching the reins tight. It was her first time on a horse. She squeezed the animal’s flanks with her knees, praying the beast didn’t decide to buck or take off running. Trix had given her a few quick pointers, and then Mercer helped her into the saddle. For several minutes, despite Allison’s best efforts, the animal had refused to budge. She shook the reins, kicked with her heels, and clicked her tongue, but the horse had stood stolid and immovable as a stone statue. Finally, Mercer had swatted the animal on the behind to get it moving.

  They passed through the village and soon were riding through a pleasant green countryside dotted with thick stands of oak and swamp ash. Mercer rode at the front of their little column and Trix took up the rear, with Allison and Drake in the middle. Trix rode with a curved bow across her saddle and an arrow notched. She said they had nothing to worry about so close to Tanthus—bandits rarely operated so close to the city—but no sense taking chances. Mercer set an easy pace, giving Allison time to get the knack of horseback riding. Drake rode slumped in the saddle with a leather-bound book open in one hand and a look of concentration on his face.

  “What’s that you’re reading?” Allison asked.

  “A book of spells,” he told her without looking up from his reading. “Don’t interrupt me while I’m concentrating.”

  He muttered to himself and made a notation with a stub of pencil. His saddlebags were laden with jars of powders, small potion bottles, scrolls, and strange devices.

  Allison mumbled an apology. They rode in silence for several hours. Her rear end was numb, her stomach was rumbling, and the sun was far into the west by the time Mercer finally reined in. “We should eat and make camp.”

  Allison twisted in the saddle. The vast city with its towering spires and fortifications were lost to sight. She said, “How far have we come?”

  “Twenty miles,” Mercer told her. “Give or take.”

  “We should press on,” Drake said. “We could make several more miles before nightfall.”

  “This is Allison’s first time in the saddle,” Mercer said. “She must be saddle-sore.”

  Drake rolled his eyes. “We’ve got a long road ahead. Every minute we waste is a minute lost and every player in the game is after that money. I say we press on. Allison will have to toughen up.”

  Trix started to shake her head.

  “I’m okay,” Allison said. In truth she wasn’t just saddle-sore, her thighs were on fire, and her bottom was so numb she doubted she would ever feel again. But she didn’t want to be the center of a fight. She said, “Let’s press on.”

  Mercer turned to face her. “You sure?”

  “She said she’s fine,” Drake drawled.

  Allison pressed her lips together and nodded. “Let’s make up some miles before dark.”

  Mercer looked to Trix, who only shrugged. The big warrior nodded and shook his reins. The sun rode slowly toward the horizon. Allison tried to ignore the pain in her bottom and willed the fiery red disk to move faster. Night came on slowly. The shadows stretched, and the sky turned from brilliant reds and orange to deep purple and blue. It was fully dark by the time he reined in again. This time no one argued.

  Allison stumbled out of the saddle. Mercer reached out a hand to catch her, but she said, “I’m okay.”

  They led their animals off the road to a copse of hardwood trees on a small knoll with a view of the surrounding countryside. Allison was grateful for the chance to stretch her legs. She held the reins in one hand and knuckled her back with the other. A groan escaped her lips. The road-weary beast plodded along behind her on heavy hooves.

  Drake stumbled over a root in the dark and cursed.

  At the center of the copse they found a small clearing and a ring of stones with the ashes of many fires.

  “Looks like someone has been here,” Allison said.

  “Yeah,” Drake said. “Us and just about every other adventuring crew who’s ever passed through these parts.”

  Trix showed Allison how to lash her horse to a low-hanging branch and attach a feed bag. They had brought enough cornmeal for three days on the road and then the animals would have to survive on grass. Fortunately there was plenty of that. While they tended the mounts, Mercer got a fire started. Drake was busy muttering to himself and sprinkling ashes from a small jar around the clearing.

  The first flickering tongues of orange licked at the kindling. Mercer bent down and blew gently on the young flame until it caught and started to crackle. Allison was just about to drop down next to the fire when she heard a rustling sound, followed by angry snorts. Her heart crowded up into her throat. She spun around in time to see a m
onster the size of a small car crash through the trees.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A hairy beast burst from the underbrush and thundered across the clearing. The horses shrieked and pulled against their tethers. Allison screamed in terror, tried to backpedal and went down on her bottom, biting her tongue in the process.

  The massive creature resembled a mutated boar with vicious tusks and bristling hair covering a leathery hide. Ropes of yellow foam hung from the creature’s jaw, and its cloven hooves tore divots in the turf. It let out a high-pitched squeal, lowered its head, and charged. Beady black eyes locked onto Allison. She felt rooted to the spot. Her arms and legs weren’t taking commands from her brain. The air caught in her lungs. She tried to scramble to her feet and back up at the same time and only managed an awkward scuttle.

  Mercer snatched the broad axe from the loop on his belt and gave a shout, trying to draw the monster’s attention, but the giant boar was focused on Allison. It covered half the distance in seconds; powerful haunches propelled the hairy body with frightening speed. It let out another snort and ducked its massive head to gore Allison to death.

  A dagger flashed past Allison’s head. Trix had launched the blade with unerring accuracy, but the edged weapon bounced off the giant beast’s thick leather hide. Drake shuffled away from the fire, getting a clear line of sight, spread his arms wide, and intoned a series of commands in a strange language. The air around him charged with unseen electricity and a smell like ozone filled Allison’s nose.

  She would have been trampled and gored to death, but Mercer stepped in front of her and swung his axe low. At the same time, Trix grabbed Allison’s sleeve and jerked her out of the way. She rolled through the dirt and narrowly avoided a stamping foot. Mercer’s blade hit the monster’s foreleg with an awful crunch, and the beast let out a pitiful shriek. Inky black blood spit from a deep gash. The boar veered off course. It stumbled on a wounded leg, but was far from finished. It reared and snorted. Mercer followed his attack with an overhand swing and his axe blade cleaved a grisly trench in the boar’s flank, spilling more blood.