by Blink, Bob
Rigo handed the bloom back to her. “I have to admit they are intriguing, but being around that smell very long would become tiresome.”
Daria nodded and threw the stem into the fire where it quickly blackened and then burned away, taking the last remnants of the odor with it.
“How long to Shyll do you think?” she asked after staring into the fire for a while.
Shyll was the town where they would part ways. The Wanderers passed through the southern town as they made their way into Lopal and back. Daria had hopes that someone among the people might have an answer for the stubborn tightness in her side.
“Perhaps another week,” Kaler replied. “I don’t know much about this part of Kellmore and am guessing based on what the innkeeper back in the village told me.”
They were all silent. They had come to be comfortable traveling together, and both men would miss Daria when she left. No longer was she a charge to worry about, but seemed more like one of them. It would be an adjustment to press on without her.
The following day was not unlike those of the previous week. By noon however, it was apparent that Rigo was getting sick. His eyes were red and he frequently sneezed. As the afternoon wore on he complained of feeling chilled, so they broke early for camp. He was uncharacteristically unable to start their fire, so Kaler had to rummage around in his packs and find the flint. Rigo crawled into his sleeping blankets after picking at his food and fell asleep.
He woke several hours after dark, chills racking his body despite being bathed in sweat. Neither Daria nor Kaler had any idea what to do to help. They had no medicines, nor were they close enough to Shyll, the only village in the area, to go in search of a Healer who might help. Their present location was in an area where even the farms had not spread, despite the abundance of fine land. They kept him cool as best they could and watched over him.
By morning the fever had broke, and a weak and haggard Rigo sat by the fire as Daria prepared him something to eat. He sipped at the broth slowly.
“How are you two feeling?” he asked between sips.
“I’m fine,” Daria said. Kaler nodded his agreement.
“What could I have caught and why only me?” Rigo wondered aloud. “We have been together constantly and haven’t seen anyone in several weeks. I don’t understand.”
Neither of the others had answers either.
“How are you feeling?” Kaler asked. He and Daria had already decided they would be staying in the camp for at least another day.
“It’s a good thing we don’t have to fight anyone today,” Rigo grinned weakly. “I can’t sense my magic at all.”
“Has that ever happened to you before?” Daria asked. “I mean when you were sick and all.”
“Never,” Rigo replied with certainty. “Even when I had the red spots that covered my entire body and itched furiously, I still had the ability to act. Not now. It’s a weird feeling. I have come to rely on it.”
Not knowing what to say, the two friends tried to make Rigo comfortable. He mostly wanted to sit with the sun on his face. By noon he appeared stronger, and put away the blanket he’d kept himself wrapped in all morning. Soon he was walking around the camp, and by dinner he seemed completely normal other than the dark patches under his eyes.
“You appear to be throwing it off,” Kaler noted as they sat around eating the evening meal. For the first time Rigo seemed interested in the food and ate a considerable quantity.
“I’m glad you two didn’t catch it,” he said. “It’s pretty nasty.”
“What about your magic?” Kaler asked.
Rigo replied by picking up a small stone and making it whistle away into the dusk to smack against the stone hillside some distance from the fire.
“I wish you could teach me how to do that,” Daria said earnestly. She had seen him bring down game at long distances using the mentally thrown stones. She could think of cases where it would have applications for her.
“I don’t think it can be taught,” Rigo said, but smiled with the realization his ability had returned. For a while when he was ill he’d wondered if maybe it was lost to him.
“We can press on in the morning,” Rigo assured them. “Unless I relapse, I’m fine now.”
A week later they reached Shyll. As luck would have it, a Wanderer caravan had been in town for more than a week and was preparing to continue on the following day. It would seem they had arrived at the perfect time.
“Let’s go see who’s here,” Daria suggested
Rigo and Kaler walked with her into the camp. The three obvious outsiders earned a number of curious stares from the dark-haired Wanderers, but no one objected to their presence. Unerringly, Daria made her way toward a large colorful wagon near the center of the camp.
“I must speak with the headman alone,” Daria told them apologetically.
“We’ll wait here,” Rigo replied. “Don’t worry. We understand.”
Whatever Daria had told the headman to identify herself, it worked wonders. The three were accepted into the gathering with smiles and warmth. Their wagon was brought from the perimeter where they had parked it and placed in close proximity to the headman’s, a sign of honor they all recognized. While Daria went off to see the Healer, Rigo and Kaler ventured into town to have a look around and to buy items they would need for the rest of their journey.
“What did she say?” Kaler asked Daria later when the trio reunited.
“She said I would have to adapt to the scars and the tightness they bring. She knew of nothing that would change anything. The muscles and skin have been affected and it will never be the same once again.” Daria sighed. “I am going to have to practice and learn what the new limits to my abilities will be.”
“Perhaps someone else might know better,” Rigo suggested, hoping to cheer his friend up.
“It is unlikely that someone would know better than one of the Healers of the Wanderers. We travel the land and learn all that is known of such things. I have known this woman before, and she is held in high esteem among the People. I doubt there is someone better.”
That seemed to end the matter. That night they were treated to a vast feast and celebration. Daria seemed changed by being in the camp of her adopted people, some of her tenseness and reserve set aside. She smiled more and joined in the dancing, dragging both Rigo and Kaler into the party where they awkwardly tried to mimic the steps. By the time they tumbled into their blankets, each was tired and happy, the cares of the journey temporarily forgotten. Only the thought of the inevitable parting the next day kept Rigo awake into the night.
Finally the last of the wagons rumbled away, the dust slowly settling in their wake. Rigo and Kaler were sitting on their horses as they watched the wagons go. They had given the wagon that had carried them from the river to the Wanderers, and would continue their journey from this point on horseback. It would be faster, and they no longer had need of the wagon. They sat until the last of the wagons had made the turn out of view into the trees in the distance.
“She’ll be alright,” Kaler said, as he observed the despondent look on Rigo’s face. “She won’t go after the Duke until she is ready.”
“I know,” Rigo replied emotionlessly. Slowly he turned his horse and headed the opposite way. They would turn south an hour out of town. Kaler followed wordlessly after him.
They had just about reached the turn off when they heard the sound of horses hooves thundering on the trail behind them. Wondering if there was trouble, they spun together to face a possible threat to spot Daria riding hurriedly toward them. She pulled the sweating horse to a stop alongside them.
“I’m going with you,” she said without preamble. She looked from Rigo to Kaler and back again as she gauged their reaction to her pronouncement.
“What do you think?” Kaler said to Rigo keeping a poker face. “She can’t cook you know.”
“Fights pretty good if you recall,” Rigo said, following suit.
Kaler seemed to consider
this. Finally he said. “You’re right. That’s probably the more important thing. I guess it’s okay with me. You decide Rigo.”
“Conversation is better with three,” Rigo observed. “I vote yes.”
Daria had listened to this with a growing smile. Finally she burst out laughing.
“What changed your mind?” Rigo asked. “What about traveling with your people?”
“They’re going back into central Kellmore, and frankly there is nothing they can do to help me. It’ll be better to be out on the trail where I have to work harder. Besides, I want to see how this works out for Rigo. I sense an adventure, and I’ve gotten used to you two.” The last she said almost shyly, an emotion neither would have expected from her.
Chapter 26
The Monastery of Ald-del was nestled into a small, steep-sided valley that backed close into the southern range of mountains that formed the border of Kellmore and separated the rich farmlands from the snake infested swamps known to exist on the far side of the immense mountains. Almost as tall as the Great White Mountains that bordered Branid on the north, these lacked any sign of snow. That wasn’t surprising. The weather had been growing warmer and more humid for many days, and now it was uncomfortably hot. They each had wet patches under their arms from sweat, and Rigo felt the seat of his pants hadn’t been completely dry in days.
The rains didn’t help matters either. Every day the sky would darken as huge black clouds formed in the early afternoon. The billowing clouds would rise into tall towers and then the thunder and lightning would begin. Shortly thereafter, large drops would begin to pelt them. More often than not the rain would become an intense downpour that would soak land and riders alike unless they were able to take refuge under some convenient stand of trees with enough of a canopy to protect them from the worst of the onslaught. As a result of the daily soaking, the ground was damp with frequent patches of mushy ground. Today had looked to be no different, with the clouds beginning to form already, although it wasn’t yet noon.
They came upon the monastery suddenly, after more than a week of travel from Shyll. The traveler that had provided them directions two days earlier had been accurate in his instructions. They made the turn around the large outcropping of gray stone that formed the base of the latest embankment and there it was in the distance.
Situated a short distance up the hillside on a large flat area, they could see the top two-thirds of the structure as it rose over the stone wall and thick brush that enclosed it on all sides. In fact, the wall ran across the narrow valley and effectively sealed off the monastery from any approach. To gain entry, one would have to pass through the heavy gates set into the massive wall. Rigo decided they liked their isolation.
As the three riders approached the wall, more detail began to stand out. The monastery itself was roughly symmetrical. Built mostly of the gray stone cut into large blocks that was common in the area, it had a multi-story tower with a steeply peaked roof at either end. Just outboard of the towers were large circular turrets with arrow slots cut into the walls. The turrets, two stories shorter than the towers, could support twenty men if necessary. Between the towers, a somewhat shorter building stretched at least a hundred paces long linking them. Like the towers, the building was built of stone, with a slanted roof that would quickly shed the rains. Windows were scattered uniformly along the front, and there were a couple of balconies where residents could wander outside and observe the countryside. Those areas that appeared to be made of wood looked to be well cared for, and freshly coated with whitewash. Rigo wondered if the coating was applied annually with the coming of spring. Flying from a post atop each of the towers were large banners. Rigo couldn’t make out the pattern, but the two were clearly different, as one was a bright red and the other a more sedate blue.
“Maybe we can beat the rain,” Kaler suggested as they unconsciously picked up the pace.
Each of them was anxious to put the riding behind them and find quarters indoors. Some place with a bath to wash away the sticky accumulation of dirt and sweat and the smell of damp horse.
As they rode up to the massive gates which remained closed despite the fact they had obviously been seen, Rigo wondered if the journey would prove fruitful or whether this was going to be another dead end. Without some guidance to the contrary, he was running out of options and would more than likely have to submit to the nagging urge to turn toward the Ruins, now to a location east and actually somewhat north of their current location.
“What might ye be seeking at the Monastery of Ald-del?” queried a voice from the protected inset in the wall just off to the right of the top of the gates. They could make out a pair of identically dressed men looking down at them.
“We have come to seek consul from the scholars,” Rigo shouted back at them. “Also, my friend has come to visit his brother who is one of your number here.”
“And who might ye be?” the guard shouted back.
Rigo provided their names.
“And what is the name of the Novice who you wish to see?”
Kaler shouted out his brother’s name.
“You will have to wait while I send word to the Subprior. He will decide if your visit can be approved.
Without waiting for their response, the robed man disappeared from sight back behind the wall leaving them sitting on their horses.
“Friendly bunch,” Kaler noted.
Daria said little. She scanned the skies and noted the clouds were forming up and experienced now by days of being rained upon judged they had less than a glass before it would begin again.
They waited for a surprisingly long time and Rigo was beginning to wonder if they were simply being ignored when the massive gates suddenly split in the middle and begin to draw back providing them entry into the courtyard beyond. Waiting a short distance inside stood another man in one of the tan frocks. The only identifying feature that Rigo could detect was the presence of a purple sash rather than the tan worn by everyone else he could see. That must be some indication of his authority.
The uniformity of the men went beyond their clothing. Each had his hair closely cropped along the side and front, but wore it long in the back held in place by a leather thong. The range of ages varied from his own age to those with gray hair. With the exception of the man waiting for them, all wore the standard garment with the tan sash. No women were in evidence.
“Welcome to Ald-del,” the waiting man said once they had approached and climbed down from their horses. “I am Subprior Taent and will be your contact for the moment. Depending on how your inquiry is judged, you may be assigned someone else to be your guide during your stay.”
“How our inquiry is judged?” Rigo asked.
“Many come to Ald-del seeking something,” Taent explained. “Not everyone can be accommodated. The decision is for the Prior to make.”
Now that they were closer, Taent peered more closely at Daria.
“You’re a woman,” he said surprised. “Women are not common here. You will not be allowed in the inner court. This is a sanctuary for men and contemplation. I will have to ask that you restrict your stay to the guest compound and the chapel. This is very important. In all matters, violation of the rules here by any member of your party will mean immediate expulsion from the monastery.”
Subprior Taent then turned his attention to Kaler. “I see that you are heavily armed. Weapons are not allowed in the inner area either. We realize the dangers posed by the world outside and the need to carry such weapons. However, they must remain in the guest compound when and if you are admitted to the inner area. That includes all belt knives as well.”
He turned his attention to Rigo. “If you require your staff to walk properly, you must make a special request of the Prior to bring it with you. Otherwise, like other potential weapons, you must not bring it inside.
Having disposed of the matter of their armaments, Taent asked which of them had a brother here. Kaler identified himself.
“You have c
ome at a good time,” Taent informed him. “Soon it will be the Sixth day, the only day set aside for a Novice to meet with another from outside the monastery. It is also fortunate that Brother Nyll has recently been advanced to a second level Novice, otherwise he would be unable to speak with you. Novices who have not advanced beyond the first level are forbidden to speak at all. The restriction is an important part of their training in obedience and acceptance. I will arrange for you to meet with him in the chapel on the appropriate morning.”
“What of my desire to meet with the scholars here at the monastery?” Rigo asked.
“You will have to present your case to the Prior. He will decide if your investigations are something the monastery can support. He will meet with you soon, probably the day after tomorrow.”
“There is no way to advance the time of the meeting. We have traveled many weeks and I am understandably anxious to see if the monastery can help me.”
Taent looked back at Rigo with disapproval. “The reckless pace of the outside world is not a matter of concern within the sacred walls of the monastery. You have come seeking our assistance. You will have to be comfortable with our manner of dealing with these matters.”
“I see,” Rigo said slowly, clearly not happy with the casual way his request was being treated. “While we are waiting then, might you arrange for your Healer to visit us?”
Taent let his eyes wander quickly across the group. “Is one of you injured? I didn’t detect any sign of such.”
Rigo held up his hand. “An older injury, but we were hoping that someone here might know something of this kind of wound and be able to help. It is mostly healed, but has left behind stiffness and a lack of mobility we were hoping could be improved.”
“I see,” said Taent. “I will have a Healer sent to you once you are settled. Come, I will show you to the quarters you may use. If there is anything you need from your mounts, you should collect those items once we reach the cottages. The mounts will be taken by Novices to the stables and cared for during your stay.”
