The Pain of Compassion

by Roland Boykin

  Before they approached the gate, Ronald leaned over and whispered to the young hand-maiden, “Act bored and resigned. Remember, you are being forcibly escorted to a marriage not of your choosing.”

  “But I’m not …” she began, then glanced at the both of them and nodded.

  Ronald paused to tell the guard about the farm where they had stopped the previous night, and the murder that had been committed there.

  “It’s probably them blasted non-humans,” he spat. “The Queen should do something before they kill us all.”

  After leaving the gate, they continued at a walk until a bend in the road hid them from view, and the lieutenant urged the team into a trot. When the team began to tire, he pulled them back to a walk as Sofia rode alongside. They took turns explaining to Floanne what had happened, and their suspicions of who was behind the attack.

  Alarmed, she turned to face her mistress. “But shouldn’t we go back? The Queen may be in danger!”

  “Hopefully, the plan I have set in motion will assure the well being of both my mother and oldest sister. We must continue on to Marlinor and whatever safety we find there.”

  Floanne attempted to hide her giggles at the look on her Princess’s face when Ronald shared the nick-name he had given her, and then laughed out loud as he stuck out his tongue when Sofia shared his.

  He turned sober and asked Sofia, “What did you think of that guard’s comment about the Elder Races? It struck me as very strange.”

  “I don’t know, Ronald, but I sense that something is not right in the world. The Elders have always been our friends and allies.”

  The vista that appeared around the next turn took Floanne’s breath away. As far as the eye could see, there stretched an expanse of dark blue water, along with the occasional white of a ship’s sails, some near and some far away. The specter of terror finally left her eyes as they took in a sight she had never dreamed of seeing.

  Soon, a moisture laden breeze, filled with a hint of salt, ruffled their hair. Glimpses of the natural harbor, and Seaside itself, appeared as the road descended. Once at sea level, the occasional stench from the fish processing houses assailed their noses, but never lasted long.

  One last admonishment from Sofia preceded their entrance into the town. “Floanne, under no circumstances are you to address us as Princess or Lieutenant. Those two no longer exist, and don’t act surprised when we address you as my lady.”

  The streets were filled with heavily laden wagons traveling to and from the docks, and workers either carrying large bundles or pushing them along in hand carts. The three of them made their way slowly toward the waterfront as Ronald kept an eye out for a particular type of inn.

  He paused in front of a large, particularly gaudy inn with guards at the door, before guiding the team around the side and into the yard behind.

  Floanne leaned over and whispered, “Why here?”

  Ronald spoke without turning to her, keeping his eye on the stable boys as they approached. “A successful owner will advertise his ability to broker profitable deals. He receives a percentage of each transaction, and uses that to keep his establishment clean and hire extra guards. We should find what we’re looking for here.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Sofia commented as she dismounted. “There is evil close by.”

  Ronald flipped a silver coin to the stable boys and promised another in the morning if the horses were well taken care of. Huge smiles lit up their faces as they swore the horses would receive the best care in town.

  He had to touch Floanne’s arm and give her a tiny shake of his head when she started to reach for their bags. She had a part to play. Head down in embarrassment for a moment, she turned for the door, a disinterested look on her face. The other two hurried to catch up.

  Floanne entered the inn where she was confronted by a large man whose wide leather belt struggled to hold up a belly to be proud of. A long pony-tail, and a beard that partially hid a face only a mother could love, took her aback until she noticed the small apron that hung from his belt.

  Floanne looked him up and down, and announced, “I require a room for myself and an adjoining room for my guards.”

  Unimpressed by her attitude, he returned her frank appraisal with one of his own. “That’ll be five silver per room… m’ lady.”

  With little experience at this sort of thing, she turned to Ronald and hoped she acted correctly. “Pay the man,” she ordered.

  Knowing that mercenaries rarely carried coin, Ronald pulled out a small gem that he had pried loose from Sofia’s jewelry, and handed it to the innkeeper. “Add three meals to that, and then return the remainder in coin.”

  The man pulled out a jeweler’s glass to inspect the gem, and grunted in surprise. He set up scales on the counter, reached for his money chest, and counted out a stack of silver and gold coins. Placing the coins in Ronald’s hand, he jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. “First floor, last two rooms on the right. There is a private dining room for the young lady, but you two will eat in the common room.”

  The coins safely tucked away in his leathers, Ronald led the way to their rooms. Floanne followed closely while Sofia brought up the rear. A quick glance inside the first room verified the existence of a connecting door. They continued on to the second door and entered the room together.

  Opening the connecting door, Ronald tossed his small bag inside. “I will sleep in there, if that’s alright. Anyone planning mischief will assume Floanne is in a room by herself, but will discover either me or Sofia.” Turning to the Princess, he asked, “Do you still feel the evil presence?”

  “It’s not inside the inn, but close nonetheless.”

  “I’m hungry, and I imagine Floanne is starving. Let’s eat and then come back here to discuss our next move.”

  They escorted Floanne to the private dining room, and took a table in the common room where they could keep an eye on her and the rest of the inn. Upon returning to their room, Floanne laid down and immediately fell asleep. Sofia and Ronald went round and round, trying to agree on what to do next. She wanted to maintain their disguises and depart in secret, but Ronald was concerned about the time it would take to find a ship.

  Unable to come to a decision, they went back down to the common room where Ronald would approach the innkeeper, and Sofia would glean what information she could from overheard conversations. Floanne should be safe enough for the time being as the Princess felt their connection even stronger than before.

  Ronald and the innkeeper had their heads together in hushed conversation at the counter when a sudden silence in the common room caused them to look up. Three men stood before the corner table where Sofia sat sipping her ale. The lieutenant moved to draw his sword, but the innkeeper stopped him with a look. A prearranged signal brought four guards from their places along the wall, joining the innkeeper as he approached the three men.

  “I will not tell you again, Roushal. You and your lies and rumors are not welcome in my inn. If you force my hand, you will not live to trouble me again.”

  A young, well dressed man turned to face the owner. A forced smile twisted a handsome face as he sneered, “I will go where I please, and leave when I am ready, innkeeper. Maybe you will sing a different tune when word gets out that you are harboring agents of Marlinor and are in secret negotiations with non-humans.”

  Before the owner could respond, the sound of Sofia’s chair scraping across the floor rang out, and her voice filled the room.

  “Look closely my friends, for you are seeing the face of evil. The Scarred Mage is once again sending out his sorcerers to poison the world with his hatred.”

  Roushal spun to face the Princess, a mocking laugh burst from his lips. “Oh, come now! The Scarred Mage is a myth to scare children, and sorcerers no longer exist.”

  He swallowed his laughter as eyes, black as night, froze him in place, and his mage sight picked out the tendrils of power that writhed up and down her arms.

  “Tell m
e sorcerer, how does your power compare with that of a Deluti?” At which point she raised a hand as if to attack.

  A visible aura of power surrounded him in an instant as he sent one fireball and then another screaming toward her. Sofia calmly caught each fireball, joined them together, and returned a stream of liquid fire. A flash and a thunderclap followed. The sorcerer simply ceased to exist.

  His companions shared a look of disbelief, then turned and ran from the inn. Ronald ran also, but in the opposite direction. He had seen the utter despair and fear that filled Sofia’s eyes just before she squeezed them shut.

  With an arm around her shoulders, he guided her toward the stairs. The gathered crowd parted to let them pass, as whispers of “Deluti”, and “Scarred Mage” began to circulate throughout the inn. Entering the first room, she sat down on the nearest bed while he sat on the other and waited.

  After what felt like an eternity, she lifted empty eyes and focused on his. “Did you know my father, Ronald?”

  “Yes, I knew him well. He and my father were very close, and I was there the day they died.”

  The fear in her eyes flared as she begged, “Please tell me what happened, Ronald. Mother refused to ever speak of it.”

  “One of the reasons they were best friends was my father’s ability to deflect the King’s anger, and never take his words personally. It was rare for them to argue, but on that day, father was either unable or unwilling to back down, and the King killed him in a fit of rage. Your father fell to the floor, sobbing, lifted my father in his arms, and voiced a cry of anguish such as I’ve never heard from a human. Before anyone could move, he pulled a knife and slit his own throat.”

  “Oh Ronald, I am so sorry! I never knew.” Tears streaming down her face, Sofia turned unseeing eyes to the window. “I am my Father’s daughter, Ronald. That same rage burns deep inside of me. I lied to you when I said that I feared nothing. The fear that I will kill someone I love is second only to my rage, and just as strong.”

  The door to the other room opened as Floanne appeared with eyes closed, and a voice not her own ghosted from her lips. “Master your rage, Princess, and the Eyes of the Deluti will be yours. If it becomes master, you will die and the amulet will go to another.”

  Ronald rose from the bed as the door closed silently behind Floanne, sat next to the Princess and took her hand in his. “You are not your father, Sofia. Believe me, I know. You are stronger than your father, and the anger. I will always be there until you find a way to master it.”

  ***

  Far to the south, high atop his tower, the Scarred Mage dismissed the vision with a wave of his hand, desire clouding his thoughts. The Princess’s little message of rage, sent along with Harlo’s returning life thread, had awakened a lust buried deep inside him for centuries. The loss of two minor sorcerers in one day was nothing compared to the prize revealed, a female Deluti. Let that pathetic Navon play with his animal friends, Scorpios now had a new focus. A smile literally cracked the skin on his face as plans began to form.

  Chapter Eleven ~ An Ogre at Court

  As Sebastian guided the team toward the crowd of angry men blocking the West Gate, the villagers exchanged confused and uncertain glances. They were not expecting a single ogre driving a wagon with a sergeant of the King’s Guard sitting beside him. Several large rivermen with clubs stepped forward to block the path of the wagon.

  Emma carefully slipped out the back before the wagon came to a stop. She hoped the extra movement did not alert the sergeant, who was still unaware of her presence. A figure in a long dark cape, the hood covering part of his face, stood slightly apart from and behind the crowd. Her senses warned her that an agent of their enemy was present, but she needed to get closer to be sure.

  Sebastian took a moment to watch her ghost through the crowd, unseen by all eyes except his own. He turned his attention back to the men who continued to smack their clubs against their palms. Careful not to make any move toward his weapons, he hoped Emma would control her constant desire to use those knives she was so fond of. Any injuries resulting from this confrontation would do irreparable harm to their mission.

  Sergeant Tuttle leaned towards the ogre and whispered, “Remember, the truth,” then stood to face the men.

  “Is there a reason you men are interfering with the duties of the King’s Guard?”

  “By the Eyes, Sergeant! It ain’t you we be interferin with, it’s that vicious animal that be sitten next ta ye.”

  It took all of Sebastian’s self-control not to smile and show his fangs at the man’s compliment. Struggling to keep a straight face, he looked away and noticed a man in a dark cape making his way towards them, Emma at his side, unseen. The crowd parted as if a giant hand gently moved them aside. Sebastian turned back to the men blocking him to keep from laughing at Emma’s antics as she mimicked every move the stranger made while making faces at him.

  “I assure you,” the sergeant retorted. “I am not in the habit of sitting next to vicious animals. Ogres have been honored citizens of our Kingdom for many generations, and are entitled to travel anywhere they desire without interference.”

  “Then why he be here now if not ta spy on us?” the largest of the men shouted.

  Sergeant Tuttle started to answer, but was interrupted by the man in the cape.

  “Let the spy speak for itself, if it’s able.”

  Tuttle nodded to the ogre, and then jumped from the wagon, his attention on the stranger. From the reports he’d received, here was the man responsible for most of the rumors.

  “I am called Sebastian, not animal or beast,” he addressed the crowd. “I am sent by the Ancient One with a message and warning for our King. The Scarred Mage is alive and sending his sorcerers throughout the land spreading rumors about the Elder Races.”

  “Nonsense!” the man in the cape laughed out loud. “The Ancient One and his brother are long gone and sorcerers are a fairy tale made up to frighten children.”

  “Maybe you have forgotten that an ogre can sense those who use power. You, human, are a sorcerer and a liar!”

  The stranger’s face twisted into a mask of hatred as his hands shot out from under the cape, a ball of flame forming at his fingertips. Only Sebastian saw Emma stick out her foot to trip the sorcerer and the small flame that sprang from her finger to the back of his cape. He fell forward onto his own ball of fire while flames quickly spread over the cape. Writhing and screaming in agony, the sorcerer rolled back and forth in a vain attempt to extinguish the flames. It was over quickly.

  Except for the crackling of the flames that consumed the body, silence hung over the crowd like the smoke from the fire. People began backing away from the corpse while the men blocking the gate moved aside.

  The first riverman, to have spoken, handed his club to another and approached the wagon. Looking up at Sebastian, the man offered up his hand.

  “Your pardon, friend ogre. Ye be speakin da truth like all your kind. We will see to it all da folks in town know da sorcerer be tellin lies. May the Eyes watch over ye on yer way to da King.”

  Sebastian leaned down and engulfed the man’s hand in his own. “Thank you, but be warned, there will be others like him.”

  The gate swung open at the sergeant’s command as the ogre flicked the reins to get the team moving again. Sergeant Tuttle smiled and waved the ogre through the gate, both unaware that the children they had met earlier were already spreading the tale of the generous ogre and what had happened at the gate.

  Just outside, Sebastian felt the wagon dip and glanced back to see Emma climbing into the back. She came up and sat beside him, a satisfied look on her face.

  “You would think that a man who plays with fire would know better than to weather proof his cape with the most flammable oil around. I would rather have used a knife instead of my finger, though.”

  Sebastian shook his head and smiled at his blood thirsty partner. Thinking of the road ahead, he wondered what their reception would be upon arrivin
g at the Capitol.

  ***

  The forest gave way to more and more farms with an occasional orchard separating the fields. The number of folks traveling the road increased also. Most were friendly and wished them a good day, but a few eyed the ogre with suspicion and passed by quickly. With every unfriendly face, Sebastian’s shoulders slumped a little further. Not looking down at the little assassin, he sighed.

  “Worried I be, little one. What we do if guard not letting me see King? I only one ogre be, humans are many.”

  Emma ignored the ‘little one’ for now, knowing how upset he was. Sebastian had never experienced this kind of prejudice before. “I’m worried too, but we’ll do what we’ve always done and find a way to complete our mission. Now quit slouching, you’re an ogre and a good one, even if you are hairy and ugly.”

  The ogre sat up straight and smiled down at her. “Thank you, Emma. It is even more important now for me to talk right. Tell me more of these humans.”

  The sun shot up in to the morning sky, and soon hung directly over their heads. They had separated on uncertain terms years before, and took this opportunity to renew their friendship. An inn appeared strategically located halfway between the Capitol and Brighton Ferry. Seeing the look of apprehension on Sebastian’s face, Emma grabbed his arm.

  “C’mon, let’s stop for a bite to eat. The more we learn about how people feel, the better prepared we will be once we reach the Capitol.”

  With a sigh, he guided the team into a field next to the inn where other wagons sat awaiting their owners. At the front door, Sebastian reached out to push it open, motioning for Emma to enter and quipped. “Age before beauty.”

  She stuck out her tongue, kicked him in the shin and then hobbled inside followed closely by the chuckling ogre.

  A look of surprise crossed the faces of the patrons as the two entered, but no fear. The innkeeper rushed forward while wiping his hands on his apron. “By the Eyes, it has been too long! I’m honored, friend ogre. Be welcome in my establishment.”