by Paul Barrett
A trio of men in one corner muttered amongst themselves as they studied the group. Another patron, dressed in the rugged leather and homespun cloth of a road traveler, slid past them with a sidelong glance and exited. The half-dozen or so who remained seemed stuck between a desire to leave and abject terror. They all stared at Erick, and it seemed as if the tavern itself held its breath.
“Have none of you ever seen—” Corby started.
“Don’t bother,” Elissia said. “Now you see why he needs to wait outside?” she asked Erick.
Erick spoke so everyone could hear him. “No, I don’t. He has as much right to be here as anyone.”
“Maybe, but is it worth dying to prove a point?” Elissia whispered as she nodded toward the three men in the corner.
Erick didn’t know what seasoned fighters looked like, but the trio certainly matched his imagination of such people. All were well-muscled, and each bore some manner of scars. One had a jagged weal that ran across his face from forehead to chin, similar to Keven’s but much worse. Erick shuddered to think how the man survived such a blow. Large two-handed swords sat against the wall behind them, within easy reach. “Maybe we should all leave,” he said.
“I’ll go,” Blink said, and several people gaped at hearing Blink’s voice. Either because he actually spoke or because it came out a smooth, rich voice that belied the homunculus’s appearance, Erick didn’t know. “I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”
I’m sorry, Erick thought.
Don’t be, Blink thought back. At least you tried.
Blink waddled out the door, and the tension lessened, although the warriors still eyed them. The others returned to their meals. The proprietor, sweating from either nervousness or his obesity, took their order and served them quickly, as if he wanted them gone as soon as possible.
Erick studied the tavern’s patrons. The warriors aside, these villagers were interchangeable with the citizens of Draymed. The same brown hair, the same drab farmer’s outfit of sack pants, long-sleeved bleached linen shirt, and mud-coated boots. They offered occasional glances at the new group, eyes full of fearful curiosity.
When they finished eating the dull fare of goat’s cheese and boiled chicken, they left the tavern to find Blink missing.
Where are you? Erick thought.
Relax. I’m on the outside of town in a small valley.
Erick connected through Blink’s eyes and figured out his familiar’s location. It surprised him to find Blink in the air.
“He’s this way,” Erick said as he started to walk. The others followed.
The sound of laughter and clapping greeted them before they reached Blink. They found him fifty feet past the town’s last building, in a small dip in the road. He hovered twenty feet in the air, holding a young boy in his claws. On the ground, five other children provided the joyous sound they’d heard, while the lad in the air screamed, “Higher, higher.”
“Melteth’s tits,” Elissia swore. “Blink, what in the name of the Festering Hells are you doing? Get down here.”
Blink glanced at Erick, and Erick nodded. Blink flew down and settled the child gently on the ground before landing beside Erick.
“What are you thinking?” Elissia repeated. “If the townspeople saw...”
“Calm down, ‘lissi,” Blink snarled back, baring his pointed teeth. “The children asked for rides, and I said yes. They don’t have the same problem with me as others do.”
“You idiot. What if you dropped or hurt one of them? What if someone spotted you?”
“What if they had? Am I supposed to spend this entire trip skulking and hiding?”
“Maybe.”
“Like hell.”
“We should leave,” Erick said. He had never seen Blink this irritable, and he found the familiar’s anger toward Elissia disconcerting.
“Fine,” Blink snapped. He rolled his eyes at the children. “The ‘grown-ups’ are making me leave.”
The children groaned in disappointment and watched as the group walked down the road in awkward silence.
What is wrong with you? Erick snarled mentally.
I’m pissed, Blink spat back. We’re wandering homeless toward scary unknown places and most likely getting killed for the trouble.
This is hard for me too. You think I wanted the manor to burn down and be forced to leave behind everything I know? It is scary, but being mad about it isn’t going to make it any better. Weren’t you the one who said I had to do this?
Yes, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.
Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?
Because I thought I could handle it. But I don’t know if I can. It’s too much too fast. And if I can’t even enjoy what fun there may be on this ‘adventure,’ what’s the point?
Blink sounded ready to cry. Erick had never seen his familiar so upset. Please, Blink. I’m going to need you to help me through this.
Blink didn’t offer anything back for several seconds. I’ll think about it. Just leave my mind now.
The homunculus broke off the connection, and they crept through a break in the mountains known as Passgate Gap. Even the loquacious Corby remained silent. The peaks of the Keys, covered with mahogany and roble trees that scattered the sun through their large branches, loomed on either side as they walked through the gap. The dimmed light did nothing to improve the oppressive atmosphere.
Erick strained his neck as he tried to see the tops of the hills. He had often seen these tors, barely visible from his manor, but never considered how tall they were. From this vantage point, Corby’s assertion that they weren’t mountains did nothing to convince Erick. He wished he could offer some comfort to Blink, some way to convince him it would all be okay. But he couldn’t, not honestly, and that scared him as much as Blink’s uncharacteristic behavior.
Elissia wanted to boot Blink in his squat gray ass. She also wanted to kick herself for not expecting him to do something so stupid. She watched Erick’s back as he walked, head up, staring at the mountains, no doubt mad at her for being mean to his familiar. They were both so naïve. It gave Erick a frustrating charm, but he and Blink needed to lose it quickly. Guilelessness was inconvenient at best and could turn deadly. Her father had pounded that lesson into her since age seven; it was one of the few she still accepted.
Erick could be taught, and no doubt the unfriendly reception in the tavern opened his eyes. Blink posed another problem. Impulsive as a toddler, he couldn’t be trusted to stay hidden, and it wasn’t fair to expect it of him on such a long journey. But he needed to remain out of sight if he wanted to stay alive. Elissia had to convince them of the situation’s seriousness, a difficult thing if Blink believed she fought against him. She considered the options as they walked.
But the tense silence and dark, brooding faces kept her unable to focus. After an hour, she tired of the sullen mood and halted on the road. “All right, everybody stop.”
The others paused, and she saw their surprise. With nothing planned, she went on instinct. “Blink, I spoke rashly because you startled me. I didn’t mean to spoil your fun, and I’m certainly not trying to be anybody’s boss, but the world is a much harsher place than you think it is. If one of those warriors had left and seen you with that boy in the air, no amount of explaining would have kept them from killing you, or us.”
“But they didn’t see me,” Blink retorted.
Elissia forced herself to not shout at him. “They didn’t there, but what about the next town?” She looked from Blink to Erick. “I thought living in Draymed would have at least taught you that people are frightened by what they don’t know or understand. Blink, you will be the first homunculus anybody has ever seen. You are going to scare everybody. You need to be unobtrusive. Otherwise, someone will kill you.”
“Not without a fight, they won’t.”
“Maybe not, but how is dead with a fight any better than dead without one? And it’s not just you. The rest of us could end up dead, too, because w
e would do everything to protect you. Do you want that?”
“No,” Blink said, raking the ground with his claws.
“Good, because not only do I not want to die, I also don’t want you to die. I like you, you miserable toad.”
After a moment, Blink smiled; his needle-sharp teeth made Elissia shiver, and she knew him. How were they ever going to get him through towns without confrontations?
“I’ll try to behave,” he said grudgingly.
“Be careful. And if you’re not sure, ask. I’m not an expert, but I have traveled outside of Draymed, and so has Corby. That’s worth something.” She offered Blink the expression she knew worked on most of the young men: head lowered, her eyes, lids half closed, peering through the strands of black hair that hung over her face. Making her voice the height of self-mockery, she said, “Forgive me?”
Blink grinned again. “How can I deny a face like that?” He looked over at Erick, still smiling. Elissia followed his gaze and found Erick blushing.
“I still think he could pass as a gargoyle,” Corby said.
“Maybe,” Elissia conceded. “Once we get off the island, into a bigger city. But for now, let’s keep him hidden. Deal?”
They all nodded, Blink the slowest to respond. She nodded back. “Let’s walk. We’re wasting time.”
The Keys gave way to a small band of foothills and then rolling grassland. The lighter, adventurous mood returned to the travelers. Corby continued telling stories and jokes, and once even burst into a tavern song.
The grass eventually turned into farmland. Stalks of corn taller than Erick surrounded them on both sides of the road. Birds flittered through the vegetation, ignoring scarecrows staked high above the plants.
With everyone in better humor and the sun descending, casting a beautiful orange light across the corn, Erick almost forgot about the possibility of pursuit. It slammed back to him as the sound of hooves overtook Corby’s singing.
“Someone’s coming,” he said.
“Shit,” Elissia said. “We should have had Blink watching from the air.”
“We need to hide.”
Elissia looked back the way they had come. “Too late.”
Erick turned and spotted two horses in clear view. He stopped since running was useless and hiding no longer an option. Fear buzzed through him.
The horses drew close to reveal two soldiers from Draymed Erick recognized from the night that changed his life. They wore the blue and gold tabards of the royal guard, and Erick caught the glimmer of chainmail beneath. Sweat beaded their foreheads, the part not covered by their leather caps. They wore similar clothing, so Erick could barely tell them apart, except that one had a crooked nose.
The one with the nose spoke in an authoritative voice. “Erick Darvaul, Elissia Torin, and Corberin Scolis of Draymed, I am here on the orders of Brannon, Captain of the Royal Garrison of Draymed. You are to surrender your arms and return with us.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Elissia said.
Before anyone could react further, the corn shook like a wind storm had descended upon it as a group of armed men leapt from the vegetation and surrounded them.
12
The Necromancers are anathema to all we stand for. They take the gifts of Krinnink, Talan, and Caros and pervert them for the foulness they call magic. Herbs meant to preserve life are mixed with blood to create mockeries of life. Grasses intended to heal are debased to bind unwilling souls to corrupted flesh. The oath of all healers must be to offer no succor to Necromancers. Though we are sworn not to harm, nowhere is it written that we must aid. Those who practice the Foul Arts are to be left to die.
-Balana Noreth, Prime Chirurgeon of the Holy Order of Healers
Ten swordsmen sprang from the corn on either side of the roadway and scrambled to block any retreat.
Blink leapt into the air, tail arched over his back, and hovered above Erick. The wind rustled Erick’s hair. The guardsmen drew their swords. Erick backed up, expecting to be ridden down, but the two men turned to face the new arrivals.
Elissia whipped a dagger from her boot. She shrugged off her pack. Her nimble arms slipped under the straps until the bundle fell away. Corby readied his blowpipe and placed himself between Erick and the ambushers, pipe in one hand, iron-tipped staff in the other. He also slipped his pack, although dealing with the blowpipe and staff made it much less graceful.
The men carried broadswords and wore loose-fitting leather jerkins covered with crisscrossed strips of metal rings. Half of the men had splintered wooden shields. Two wore dented metal pot helms. Erick recognized one of them as the road-worn man from the tavern who had left after the farmers.
A burly man with tremendous arms, greased brown hair, and a missing left ear stepped forward. “Put your packs back on. We want the curly-haired one and the animal. The rest of you may go.”
“Animal?” Blink bristled from above.
Elissia rose to her full height, still half a foot shorter than the smallest bandit. “You’d do best to let us pass unmolested if you wish to see the sunrise tomorrow.”
Erick goggled, astonished at her defiant attitude.
The crooked nosed guard spoke up. “You are interfering with the business of Queen Alekita’s Royal Guard. Be on your way.”
The bandit chuckled, revealing a mouthful of stained teeth, two of them capped with silver. “There’s always someone who wants to be disagreeable.” He pointed at Corby with his sword. “How about you, young one? I’m not fond of killing children or men of learning, but you wouldn’t be my first of either.”
“He’s my friend, and I’ll protect him,” Corby answered. He held up the blowpipe. “You’ll be the first to die.”
The leader sighed. “I hate having to do extra work.” He waved a hand.
The bandits attacked, rushing forward with swords raised.
The assailants had taken no more than two steps when Elissia let her dagger fly. Corby blew into his pipe, sending the dart sailing toward the leader.
Elissia’s knife slammed into an unprotected throat. The bandit went down gurgling. No sooner had the dagger left her hand than another appeared. She backed away, aiming for her next target.
Corby’s dart hit low. It sank into the leader’s leather armor but failed to penetrate the cured hide.
The crooked nosed soldier charged forward, while the other remained frozen. With an awkward tug, Erick pulled his sword from its sheath, head and heart pounding.
He retreated from three men, waving his sword at them in full, slow arcs. Noise and movement surrounded him, forms hard to distinguish in the long-shadowed light of the low sun. Cries of pain and the whinny of horses reached his ears.
Blink flew toward the attackers. He barely avoided a nasty slice across his leg as one leapt and made a quick upward slash. Blink flapped his wings, lifting higher into the air.
Keep them busy, Blink thought to Erick.
Do I have a choice? Erick thought back.
The attackers spread and surrounded him on three sides. He retreated as they advanced. Trying to watch all three at once, he was focused on the man at his left when the one on his right attacked.
DROP! Blink screamed in his head. Erick collapsed. The sword passed over with a terrifying whistle. Roll back.
Erick rolled, losing his weapon. Three swords thudded into the dirt around him.
Run.
Erick jumped to his feet and fled through the high corn as fast as he could.
Erick disappeared into the grass, pursued by three bandits. Elissia couldn’t do anything for him. He had Blink to help him. She found Corby in more immediate danger. As promised, he had taken the leader out first. His second poisoned dart had pierced the man’s cheek and put him down, screaming in agony. Before Corby could reload, another attacker slammed him to the ground, his sword cutting a deep notch in Corby’s staff. Elissia ran in behind the man and delivered three rapid stabs to his kidney, punching the sharp blade through the leather armor.
Roaring, the man staggered forward and whirled to face her. He swung his sword in a wide, wild arc as dark blood gushed from his back. Surprised at his resilience, Elissia tried to retreat. The flat of the blade caught her across her upper arm. Pain, instant and staggering, flashed across her arm. The blow’s force sent her skidding several feet on the dirt road. She fell. On instinct, she dropped her dagger and cradled her injured arm. The pain dimmed her vision.
“Elissia,” Corby screamed from far away.
The bandit stood over her, ready to kill her. She had given her life to save Corby. Her last thought, as the sword descended, was how disappointed her father would be that she had turned out so noble.
But the blow didn’t land. The bandit’s forearm fell to the ground, sword thudding across the dirt. Blood sprayed from the stump left by the Royal Guardsman’s sword and spattered Elissia. She rolled away with a grunt of disgust and wiped at her face. The man wheeled on the mounted soldier with a disbelieving stare. The cavalryman drove his weapon through the bandit’s chest. His face went vacant and his eyes glazed. He fell to the ground with a watery sigh.
“Look out,” Elissia shouted as another bandit ran toward the guardsman. Too late. The bandit launched himself into the air. He slammed full body into the soldier, unseating him from his horse. They crashed to the ground. The horse fled with a terrified whinny. Elissia rolled away to avoid being trampled. She shielded her eyes from the dust thrown by the animal’s hooves.
When she uncovered them, she found the soldier with blood gushing from his mouth. The bandit yanked a sword free from the man’s chest and turned toward her, a leer on his ugly face.
“Leave her alone,” Corby screamed as he charged the bandit. Holding his staff like a spear, he smashed the rounded butt into the man’s face. His nose crunched and scarlet blood spattered. The man fell back. Corby followed and slammed the staff against the man’s head.
