The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)

by Garrett Robinson

  Her mouth twisted towards a frown, as though she had almost said something but then thought better of it. “That place is anything but important.”

  Just then, Tou approached us. He gave us all a quick nod and touched Dryleaf gently on the shoulder to let him know he was there. “I have returned from Captain Zhou’s war council.”

  I glanced at the sun, which had only barely begun to sink below the horizon. “It seems to have gone rather quickly.”

  Tou nodded, but he looked troubled. “It did. My company will be marching in the vanguard with the captain’s Mystics. He instructed that your squadrons be at the forefront, behind him.”

  That was a surprise, though I quickly realized it should not have been. “He wishes to keep an eye on us,” I said.

  His mouth twisted. “I am only passing down the order.” But I could see in his eyes that he thought I was correct. “When we muster in the morning, you know where to be.”

  “Yes, ser,” I said, snapping a salute where I sat. Tou nodded and left.

  Mag’s eyes were alight with excitement. “Good for us, I say. I would rather be at the front—anything to get to the Shades faster. We can help root out the Shades and end this war, Albern. I feel it.”

  I chuckled. “End the war? Why, Mag. You sound almost as though you are truly committed to the fight now. I thought it was only a cover for us to find Kaita.”

  She did not answer, or even change her expression. But her fist jabbed out and struck me hard in the shoulder. My whole arm went dead, and I cursed and fumed as Mag went to help Dryleaf fetch his supper.

  That evening, a wagon trundled up to the camp as we were almost ready to end our night. It was covered entirely in a brilliant blue cloth of a beautiful weave. Mag and I stopped and watched it approach. Hallan and Dibu were with us, each of them discussing some final matters before the morning’s march. As the wagon drew near to us, I spied the driver—a tall, brown-skinned man with lustrous black hair down to his shoulders, supple, muscled arms, and large, strong hands. He looked like a man of Calentin, which held my attention. As the wagon slowed, he nodded to us.

  “Good eve, friends,” he said. His voice was like warm, smooth liquid pouring down the nape of your neck. “We seek a friend of yours. An older gentleman named Dryleaf. Do you know him?”

  “Is that Nikau?” Dryleaf thrust his head out of his tent. “Nikau, darling boy! You found me.”

  Like a mirror of Dryleaf, a woman poked her head out of the blue front flaps of the wagon. She was a slim, delicate young thing, with pale Heddish skin and hair that flamed red like Hallan’s, but curly and more lustrous. She leaned her elbows on the front edge of the wagon and beamed down at Dryleaf.

  “There he is!” she called sweetly. “We have arrived, dear friend, and we thought to seek a song from you before we slumber. Any journey should be blessed by merriment before it begins, or else who knows what darkness might befall it?”

  “Who, indeed? Thank you, my boy,” said Dryleaf as Dibu helped him climb out of the tent and stand up. “It would be my utter joy to share songs and stories with you tonight, and on the road as well.”

  “Am I to guess that you are from the Guild of Lovers?” I said.

  “We are,” said the man with a knowing smile. “I am Nikau, as Dryleaf said.”

  “And I am Orla,” said the woman, holding a hand towards me. I took it and kissed it. Her fingers were as soft as cream, and almost the same color. “Entirely enchanted.”

  I cleared my throat. “As are we. I am Albern of the family Telfer, and this is Mag. These are Hallan and Dibu, two soldiers in our squadrons. Dryleaf has sung your praises ever since we arrived in the town.”

  Orla climbed down from the wagon and wrapped her arm through Dryleaf’s, laying her head on his shoulder. “If that is true, I feel simply cheated. How could he sing without me there to hear it?”

  “We shall have plenty of chances to hear him on the road, love,” said Nikau with a smile. He kept studying me. I wondered if he was as curious about me as I was about him and if he could see my Calentin features through my lighter complexion. “A pleasure to meet you both. Do not hesitate to seek us out, should you wish our services. It would be our honor to comfort the friends of Dryleaf, who we have come to love so well.”

  “I shall, ah. Certainly consider it,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. “My friend Mag, however—”

  Mag smirked at my obvious discomfort. “I am not a bedder. But your offer is generous and well-spoken.”

  “That is well enough,” said Nikau, giving her a nod, and then me a wink.

  “You are coming with us?” said Dibu. “On the march?”

  Nikau gave him an easy smile. “We are. And if it means I get to see those arms of yours each day, I, for one, will do so with pleasure.”

  Dibu thrust a tongue into his cheek hard to fight a smile, and he shook his head. “I thank you for the compliment. But … we are marching to war, or so we all believe. Is it not safer to ply your trade here?”

  “Ye need not worry for that, boy,” said Hallan, folding his arms. He gave Nikau a nod, and Orla a wink. “Lovers are much as safe in war as they are in any town or city. Their laws forbid them from taking sides, and so why should anyone seek to harm them? Their trade’s neutral, and a help to either side. And I can say from some experience that a lover can hardly find better clientele than when traveling along with an army.”

  “All very true,” said Orla, smiling at him from Dryleaf’s side. “And I do love a soldier with experience.”

  Hallan bowed low, his beard pressing into his chest. “I’ll recommend some to you, then.” His eyes flitted to Nikau. “And mayhap you’ll make some recommendations as well.”

  “I am sure they will hardly be necessary,” said Nikau, placing a hand on Hallan’s arm. “But for now, we had better see to our arrangements. Come, Orla. I will not build your tent for you.”

  Orla laughed, and it was like music. “Of course you will, if I ask it,” she said. “But I am coming.” She leaned in to give Dryleaf a quick peck on the cheek. “Await my return, dear one. We will come to hound you for a song as soon as we may.”

  She danced away towards the back of the wagon. Behind her, some other lovers descended to the ground, and they began to see to the horses’ needs and set up tents near the army’s. I noticed Mag’s and my squadrons looking at them with interest, and I strongly suspected they would be glad for Dryleaf’s presence during the long march before us.

  Mag was shaking her head with a slightly amused expression. “At least our march shall not be dreary—wherever we end up marching to.”

  “No, it certainly will not,” said Dryleaf, beaming.

  We all sang and spoke and laughed and drank that night, and the next morning we set out from Taitou before dawn. Tou’s company marched just behind Kun’s Mystics, as ordered. Dryleaf found a place in the army’s train near the lovers, among the wagons and carts of the camp followers that accompany any force on a campaign.

  Mag and I were marching to war for the first time in many years. Though we walked in grim company, for the first time in a while, I found myself excited to take the next step in our journey.

  The rider was headed south towards Taitou on a narrow, little-used hunting trail. The day was cold, and the warmth of her mount was little comfort against it. Sharp hills cracked the land around her, like broken fingers arching towards the sky in pain. Dark mutterings poured in a steady trickle from her lips, promising baneful revenge against Mag and me when at last she caught up to us.

  To the south, a flight of birds launched itself into the air, screaming.

  The rider stopped. Her eyes narrowed. She moved off the trail into the hills, hiding her horse behind some boulders. Retracing her steps, she found a place where she could watch the path while keeping herself hidden.

  It was not long before a column of soldiers came into view. The rider leaned forwards, narrowing her eyes.

  At the head of the column, she s
aw Mystics. Some were on horseback, but most were on foot. Behind the redcloaks were other folk. They looked like artisans and farmers, and almost none of them were mounted. But they carried weapons and shields, and sometimes one or two pieces of armor, though it was ragtag and scattered among them.

  Militia, thought the rider.

  And then she saw Mag and me. We were close to the head of the column, riding our horses in plain sight.

  The rider froze. But only for an instant before she was cursing under her breath and racing back towards her horse.

  “Dark-damned, steer-loving, slipshod nuisances,” she said, and carried on in like manner as she mounted. The moment she was in the saddle, she dug in her heels with a great cry, riding towards the hunting trail at a gallop.

  Kun and his Mystics spotted her while she was still spans off. Immediately the Mystics formed up, drawing weapons and hefting their shields to form a wall in front of Kun. Knights barked orders, directing more of the column to advance and join them.

  The rider slowed her horse to a walk, throwing empty hands into the air.

  “Hail!” she cried. “My weapons are stowed, and I bear no ill intent. Kindly do not shoot me.”

  Mag and I came marching forwards with our units. The rider studied us, eyes narrowing in a glare, but she could see that we did not recognize her. And why should we have? She was wrapped head to toe in clothing against the cold. Not even a shock of hair stuck out from her hood and mask.

  “That is far enough,” Kun called out amiably. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “Two things,” said the rider. “The first is more important. I have come looking for you, for I guess that you are the Mystic garrison from Taitou. I have news for you about the Shades.”

  The effect on all of us was immediate. Mag and I glanced at each other, and most of the gathered soldiers gripped their weapons tighter.

  The woman’s voice instantly struck me as familiar. But it was far away and muffled, both by her mask and by the heavy snows all around us. My mind raced, trying to place it, but I could not.

  Kun’s smile only widened.

  “I am curious about your news, as well as why you think I should trust it,” he called out. “But you said you wanted two things. What is the second?”

  The rider’s voice went sour. “I am looking for three people in your company.”

  Kun’s smile vanished. “Are you now.” It was not a question, but more of a statement of annoyed anticipation.

  “I am,” said the rider. “I seek Dryleaf, an older man. And two whom I see before me: Mag, called by some the Uncut Lady, and especially Albern of the family Telfer.”

  Mag frowned, and a flush crept up into my cheeks. Yet still I could not place her voice.

  The rider smiled to herself, drawing a dark enjoyment from our reactions.

  Kun, meanwhile, had turned a baleful glare on us. “I see,” he said. “Why does it not surprise me that the two of you are connected to this stranger, who rides out of the wilderness with knowledge of the Shades?”

  Mag never took her eyes off the rider. “I do not recognize her, Captain.”

  “Nor I,” I added. It did not seem wise to mention the familiarity of her voice, for I did not think Kun would be much pleased. “Who are you, stranger? Show your face.”

  “Stranger?” The rider snorted. “How would a stranger know your names, or recognize you? You know me, wanderers, even if you do not know that you know me.”

  She dismounted before removing her mask and pulling back the hood of her cloak.

  I had nocked an arrow. Now it dipped immediately. Mag put her spear up at once. Both of us took a tentative step forwards, unable to believe our own eyes.

  “Yue?” I gasped.

  Sun stopped dead in the street, her mouth agape.

  “Not Yue from Lan Shui?” she said.

  Albern’s smile was broad and smug, and Sun knew he was immensely enjoying the look on her face. “The very same. Come, keep walking. We have a ways to go.”

  “But … but she …” Sun struggled for words, trotting at Albern’s side. “What on earth was she doing there? What about Lan Shui? She was a constable!”

  “She was, but she—”

  “Now hold on,” said Sun. “I learned much about Yue from you. And if there is one thing I know, it is that she would never have abandoned her duty to Lan Shui. She took it so seriously that she was ready to arrest you and Mag just for looking suspicious!”

  “Oh, her duty to her king was her highest priority,” said Albern. “And that had not changed.”

  “But she abandoned Lan Shui!” cried Sun. “Why would she do that?”

  Albern stuck a tongue in his cheek, biting down on it as if he was trying desperately to quell the grin plastered on his features. “You see,” he said slowly, “I was telling you a story, in which I was just about to relay my conversation with Yue, and during which time I asked her these questions, and Yue—”

  “All right,” growled Sun. “Get on with it.”

  Mag and I stood there staring at Yue, our mouths hanging open. Or at least, mine was. It is difficult for me to imagine Mag being so flabbergasted, though I know it must have happened at least once.

  “Careful,” Yue told me after a moment. She could not entirely banish a sardonic smirk. “Winter it might be, but there are still enough flies to be caught in that gaping hole in your face.”

  “Yue,” I breathed. “What under the sky are you doing here?”

  Mag arched an eyebrow. “And what in the dark below, while you are answering questions.”

  “Ha,” said Yue.

  “Pardon me,” said Kun. His smile had returned, but it was sharp as a razor’s edge. “You are carrying on a conversation as though you are the only ones invested in its outcome. Let me kindly remind you that you are not.”

  “Of course, Captain,” I said at once. “Forgive me. This woman is a friend.”

  “Though how in blazes she found us is another matter,” said Mag. Suddenly she frowned. “Albern …”

  Her voice trailed off, and I realized what she was thinking. Kaita would have known Yue from Lan Shui, and she might know—or have guessed—that we were friendly. As a weremage, Kaita could hardly ask for a better opportunity to get within striking distance of us.

  “Yue,” I said slowly. “You remember what we were seeking when we left Lan Shui.”

  “Of course,” she said, irritated. “You left to find the werema—ah.” Her brows lifted. “The weremage. And now, here I am.”

  “A weremage?” said Kun. “What is this about?”

  Yue turned to him and bowed. “Captain. I was formerly a constable in the town of Lan Shui. It is a modest place, some leagues southeast of—”

  “I know it,” said Kun. “Go on.”

  Yue nodded towards us. “These two traveled through the town some months ago. There was a weremage who caused some local trouble, and they helped me resolve the issue. But the weremage was never found.” She scowled at the two of us. “They are afraid I might be her, which is an uncommon display of good sense.”

  Kun’s brows shot for the sky. “You certainly seem familiar with their antics.”

  “And I guess that you are as well,” said Yue, bowing again. “But they are right, ser. I could be the weremage in disguise.”

  Mag opened her mouth to speak, but I gripped her arm to stop her. She could offer to test Yue—she had learned how in Calentin. But I did not think it wise to reveal that knowledge to Kun, for it might lead to awkward questions.

  Fortunately, Kun solved the problem for us. “Prudence is always a wise course. Zhen—forgive me, Lieutenant Zhou? Test her, if you would.”

  Zhen, Kun’s nephew, stepped forwards. He sheathed his sword as he approached Yue and stood before her, a pace away. Yue held her ground, but her jaw clenched as she looked at him.

  “A test?” she said. “I have never heard of this.”

  “Most have not,” said Zhen. “It is taught to s
ome within the order, and it is quite foolproof.”

  Yue lifted her chin. “Very well. What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing,” said Zhen. “But I must strike you. Nothing too damaging, I promise, but it will daze you for a moment.”

  She fought a scowl. “You are certain this works?”

  “I am,” said Zhen.

  Yue sighed. “Very well. Do what you must.”

  Zhen nodded. Then he stepped forwards and slammed his hands into Yue’s temples with two powerful chops. Her head reeled back, and she blinked hard against the pain. But her eyes did not glow, and soon her vision seemed to clear. She glared at Zhen.

  “That hurt.”

  I laughed out loud. “Yet it was worth it—at least to me.”

  I went running forwards to embrace her, Mag only a pace behind me. I struck Yue hard and wrapped her in a hug.

  “But why are you here, Yue?” I said quietly.

  “To find and aid you two, of course, you great idiot,” she growled.

  “Excuse me,” said Kun. “You keep forgetting the rest of us are here, and it begins to border on offense.”

  “Apologies, Captain,” said Yue, stepping towards him. “I have sought these two across Dorsea. If they have joined your efforts in this civil war, then I would pledge my service as well.”

  “Would you now?” said Kun. “Sky save me. I am nearly drowning in recruits, seemingly whether I wish them or not.”

  “You could hardly ask for a better sword arm than hers,” I told him. “Mag and I will vouch for her.”

  “That is no surprise,” said Kun. “I imagine you have friends scattered all across the nine kingdoms, turning up when one least expects it.”

  I did not miss the subtle dig. That could also have been a description of the Shades. I thought hard, wondering how I could convince him to let Yue stay on.

  Yet I need not have worried, for Yue stepped forwards. The Mystics beside Kun tensed, but Yue stopped while still two paces away. In a tone I had never heard her use before—proud yet deferential, strong but respectful—she spoke.

  “Captain Kun,” she said. “I am Yue of the family Baolan, former constable of the town of Lan Shui. I am kin to Constable Aroha in Opara, to Constable Pinti in Yota, to Constable Zho in Danfon, and to Constabular Captain Stubhart on the High King’s Seat. If letters can be sent to them, they will all vouch for me, as will Constable Ashta in Lan Shui itself. Also, my uncle Joshin serves the Mystics with honor in the city of Bertram, and my grandmother Brinna was a chancellor in Pinkeng in the south until her retirement five years ago. Long has the family Baolan served the King’s law, and I have no greater aspirations in this life or any other. I am the servant of Jun of the family Fei, the true king of Dorsea, and his kin, and through them the High King.