by Tom Rogal
“Where are we?”
The blacksmith gazed at Levus with a shocked expression, as if he hoped he was joking.
“Has the time under that cart rattled your brain? You’re supposed to be the best hunter in Arnis, yet you are not familiar with your surroundings?”
“No, they're just too familiar to me.”
Divi finally commented, “We’re near Porsita. I remember it being hillier than any place else.”
Cerrapies laughed. “Impressive! That is correct, lass. You should be ashamed of yourself, Levus, my boy. She has only been on this rock for a couple weeks and she knows it better than you. And she doesn’t even know magic yet!”
Levus was glad to see the real Cerrapies beginning to come out. These past few days had been tenuous and stressful as they tried to get out of the plains into the natural cover of the woods. The blacksmith had rarely slept and barely ate, instead making sure he and Divi were strong enough. He must have finally thought they were safe enough to let his guard down slightly.
Divi said, “Well, we did travel for many days in the Woods, so he did make a good guide then.”
Cerrapies, seeing what Divi was doing, smiled and said, “Don’t defend him. Since his father was gone, I’ve tried to make him into a man’s man. Get a little meat on his there bones. Get some hair on his chest.”
“You don’t have any hair on your chest.”
He shrugged and said, “Well, I’m older than you. Besides, the ladies love it. Old proverb I picked up on the mainland: birds hardly ever nest in the bare trees.”
“I tried. By the way, it doesn’t matter to me," Divi added. "I kind of like no chest hair.”
“My, have women changed since I was younger.”
Cerrapies was happy at how well Divi had begun to open up around him. He knew mages tended to be serious and straightforward. Even though she was different from her people, Divi still seemed a little hesitant in front of him. He thought it was something else, though. In fact, Cerrapies was certain he saw a budding bond between his friend and the mage − one that was going to be very dangerous for both if they took it any further. She probably knew the risks if they ever . . . hooked up, as they said in the slums of Tartus. Levus probably had no idea of the complications.
Divi, despite having some fun for the first time in weeks, still tried to be weary of her surroundings. These woods were great at hiding things. She'd learned that much in her time here. The moment they let their vigilance down was the time they were going to get burned. That was something she didn’t want to happen. She tried using her powers to feel for anyone in the vicinity.
“Halt! Don’t move or we’ll cover your body with arrows!”
A small band of men came from hiding behind the trees. Another group was in the treetops, arrows aimed at all three of them. He was right about one thing: they were surrounded. It must have been a band of thieves looking to make a quick set of coin. If it was money they sought, Cerrapies was sad to say that their haul would be quite small. He left almost all his money hidden under his shop.
Levus commented, “They aren’t Dyyros Army.”
“They’re not Night Predators either.”
A man about Cerrapies’ age came out from behind an aged oak. He had more swagger to his step than the blacksmith did when he walked. Then again, that could have been because he was armed only with a sword. Cerrapies’ Twin Vipers did slow him down. The man had a short beard, mainly gray with just a touch of black. He wore chainmail like the rest, but his looked like a different metal than the others. A half mask covered the upper part of his face.
The man drew a dagger from his belt and tossed it between Levus and Cerrapies, embedding it in the wood supporting their backs.
He asked, “What can you tell me about that dagger?”
What an odd question for some common thief to ask. Cerrapies examined it. It was well-made and had a greenish tint. The handle was crafted with a signature symbol on it that distinguished its maker. He would recognize his early work from anywhere. He hadn’t done this design since he lived on the mainland.
Cerrapies demanded, “Show yourself! If I made something this well for you, that probably means I liked you.”
The man gave a hearty laugh before removing his mask. Cerrapies should have known by the dagger alone, but he had to be sure. It had been such a long time since he saw him!
“Well, let the gods be praised! Neronn! You’re still alive after all these years!”
All the archers lowered their weapons as the two old friends met on the road, giving each other a rough hug.
“I’m surprised you're still around," Neronn said. "I heard how you had dueled with Ulcinar in Tartus years back.”
“And you said my stubbornness wouldn’t save my hide one day.”
Levus cleared his throat. He hated to ruin this reunion, but they had to get moving in some fashion. The longer they stayed idle, the more time the enemy had to catch up to them. Cerrapies, realizing his error, returned to the cart.
“Neronn, this is Levus Sintar, Jared’s boy!”
“Well, I’ll be! If there was one man I had a hard time seeing become a father, it was Jared. He was a great man. I knew him before his rise to fame. It’s an honor to meet ya!”
Neronn's strong grasp reminded Levus of Cerrapies’. Here was also yet another man who seemed to know more about his father than he did. He wished he had more time with him. It sounded like his father would have had quite some stories to tell. And why was everyone calling him famous?
Neronn finally let go of his hand.
“And this here is Divi.” Leaning closer to Neronn’s ear, Cerrapies whispered, “She is a mage from Myyril. Her father was killed in Porsita.”
Neronn understood the reason for Cerrapies’ caution. Of their group, he was the only one who had spent any time on the mainland. The rest were born and raised here on Dyyros, and thus were born without extensive knowledge of mages and elves. What she was doing in the cradle of humanity was not of his concern. He learned that asking too many questions usually put one in a bad spot. Whatever the reason for being here, she had one and that would be that. Besides, she was very beautiful! He gently grabbed Divi’s hand and kissed the top of it.
“The honor is all mine. You are a flower in these horrible surroundings.”
Divi was flattered by the comment. She even thought she caught a hint of jealously come from Levus. Not that he had anything to worry about. Neronn looked twice her age, although she was technically older. He let go of her hand and looked at the three.
“Well, you probably have places to go, but if you want to rest, you can come to our camp for the night. One of my men who seems to be able to predict the weather says we could get more rain today. It would be my pleasure to host you tonight.”
Cerrapies said, “Of course. We could all use some rest in safety for at least one night. Besides, we have lots to catch up on, old friend.”
Neronn nodded, overjoyed by the answer. He signaled for his men to go on ahead and prepare sleeping arrangements.
He finally said, “If you would follow me. We will put your cart on a side road, well off the track of the main route. As long as you are in our company, I can guarantee you will be in good hands!”
“So, what do you guys do?”
Levus, Divi, Cerrapies, and Neronn sat by a large fire around the huts in their camp that housed the leaders. Because of the delicate nature that Neronn assumed some of the conversation might take on, he had all the other members of his group stay in the main part of the camp. It was much larger than Levus had thought of when they said they had a small establishment. Their "camp" was nearly half the size of Arnis' main street. Instead of easy to move tents, the housing was well-build huts made sound with sturdy foundations.
Before the talking would begin, Neronn insisted that they all ate. They had been going off rations that Cerrapies brought along for the trip. However, they were running very low and would have to soon resort to gathering resourc
es from the land. The food they were served was good, too, an oatmeal mixed with native berries. Divi was impressed with how tasty it was. After they had their fill, it was time for them to talk about everything they could.
Neronn explained, “We call ourselves the Dyyros People’s Front. With the Dyyros army swearing allegiance to Ulcinar and no other, we have found ourselves in a period of lawlessness. People have resorted to thievery instead of good honest work. I’ve gotten folk from all the villages in the Dyyros Woods to form this group. Our mission is to keep the Woods safe from those who wish to make them perilous. Many bandits and marauders have met justice by our hands. We’ve even ambushed army convoys that carried gold so we could distribute it through the villages and towns.”
Cerrapies asked, “What made you come to Dyyros? If I remember correctly, you had quite a happy life in South Cordca. Thought you had the sense to go back after the Battle of Tartus.”
“I did, but had to go where the work is. Came to the capital to take care of the horses, instead got recruited by the Royal Guard to lead their cavalry. I only wish I got out when Jared did. After Ulcinar took over, everything changed. When Tartus was overrun, my wife was trapped there. Barricaded the entrances and exits, he did. As soon as we found a place of safety in the Woods, I came back for her and her sister. One of ours was supposed to help them out. He instead turned coat and killed them in front of my eyes. I could never forgive him or Ulcinar after that. To this day, I go through the villages, seeking out those who wanted to exalt and produce justice in a time when there is none.”
Divi felt sorry for Neronn. She knew how he felt to an extent. When her mother died, it was the hardest moment of her life. Watching her father die in front of her was equally difficult on her. It was the action afterward where they contrasted. Then again, the kind of love each had was radically different as well. She began to wonder if she would ever feel that kind of love Neronn and his wife had shared, one seemingly very powerful.
Neronn continued, “Well, I should ask you the same question. You gave me the impression that you would never leave the mainland. You must understand my surprise when I heard you lived in Tartus during said battle.”
Cerrapies took a large gulp of the wine provided by his friend before answering. “Well, I mainly left for Jared. A couple years after his great victory in the Tournament, he came to me asking if I would join him in Arnis. Harrin Ferrud moved there and he wanted me along. With my Master Trainer murdered by you-know-who, I had no reason to stay. I was always a big city person, so I told him I would come, but only if I could live in Tartus.”
Neronn laughed. “Big city person. That is because it's where your taste in women lies. Did you know that your friend here likes the ‘unclean’ ones, the non-virgins?”
“Oh, stop it.”
He continued, “Don’t be ashamed. You had that one filly that was prettier than the gyzag tree in full bloom. I’m surprised you never married her.”
Cerrapies only commented, “It is not a story for young ears. Neither is that part of my life.”
Levus was curious. He had never asked his old friend much about his past, so he himself knew very little. Whatever it was, it appeared to be a past that he wished to forget.
“Don’t tell me you're getting soft, old man? Listen, the Cerrapies you know today is one of the most intelligent people you ever met. I remember a story. Our friend here was at a tavern. Big surprise, huh? He was being restless and rowdy. So, the owner came to him and asked him to leave. Cerrapies makes a bet that if he can outdrink his best man in a contest, he can stay. Now, the owner knows he has been there nearly all day, so he’s wasted . . ."
“Not wasted,” added the blacksmith.
“Wasted. Who’s telling this story here?”
Cerrapies laughed, gesturing for Neronn to continue.
“So, the owner gets the largest man he can find. I mean, the muscles on him were like an ogre's. Cerrapies, however, is not as drunk as the owner believes he is. He has a plan. One thing the owner didn’t know about my friend is that he becomes a different man, craftier, when he is influenced by the drink. The owner, after the first few drinks, thinks Cerrapies isn't going to last much longer, so he ups the stakes. He tells him that if he can beat his man, not only could he stay, but he will also give him the tavern free of charge. If he loses, he won’t be able to enter ever again. Those were the words Cerrapies was waiting for. Thirty glasses later, Cerrapies becomes the proud new owner of the tavern. Now, he doesn’t want the tavern, so he sells it back to the original owner for double the price. With that money, he was able to buy the shop he has in Tartus.”
Levus and Divi were entertained by the tale, clapping as Neronn bowed. Levus wanted to compare Neronn to a bard, minus the singing, as he told the story well. Cerrapies laughed, shaking his head.
“Now, although it's true, the money I got did help fund my Tartus shop, the number of glasses of ale seems to get larger and larger each time you tell this.”
Neronn replied, “I just report it as it happened. Enough of the past for now, though. Let us talk about where you are going. Can the Dyyros People’s Front help?”
Levus was going to answer, but Cerrapies stopped him. “I was taking them to Arnis. Those two individuals Ulcinar is looking for are them, believe it or not. I want to hide them in Arnis until things settle down.”
He didn’t have to say anything else, but Ulcinar’s name to get Neronn’s blood boiling. First, he takes my wife’s life. Now, he hunts two innocents. This dictator was truly a madman that had to be stopped.
“Understood," Neronn said. "I assure you that our group will do whatever we can to keep the Dyyros army at bay. Thank you for informing me. It at least shows what we can expect in the upcoming future. We’ll have more than bandits to be wary of. Are you being pursued right now?”
All three shrugged their shoulders. They didn’t think so, but they weren’t sure how long it took the guards at the gate to realize they let them slip their grasp, if at all. They wouldn’t have reported their failure, as it would have meant their death. It might not be a bad idea, though, if this group was willing to keep tabs on, and maybe delay, the army if they did decide to pursue.
Divi asked, “Would the Night Predators know about us?”
“The Night Predators are a concern only if you travel at night. They usually never cross the main road. That is why we have camp here on the western side of it. They seem to not like the water too much. If a group tried to attack us, we just run a few miles west and they will retreat when we reach the Gulf. Can I ask you one thing, Divi is it? What is a mage doing here on Dyyros? I know it’s probably not the first you were asked of this, but you understand my reasons.”
She certainly did. Levus had explained it to her all too well at the sancaratis. As it was obvious Cerrapies had told him about her race, she felt okay talking about it.
“I really don’t know the reason. My father was the leader of Myyril. He and some mages on the council came here to see a man. He wouldn’t tell me why or who they were meeting.”
Neronn placed his hand on his chin. He was glad he did decide to ask why she was here. This was truly odd.
Cerrapies asked, "Who on Dyyros would be so important that the leader of the mages would come here to meet them in secret?"
“Well, it could be anyone, from a local mayor to Ulcinar himself, though I doubt the latter. There are many groups other than mine here fighting for similar causes. I will try to ask if any of them know anything about it.” After a short silence, he continued, “Listen, if I were you, I would leave early. Just inform any of my group members and they will guide you to your cart. Before we turn out for the night, let’s have a toast.”
Neronn poured each person a glass of wine, half a cup full.
Cerrapies sniffed the contents, knowing instantly what it was. “You know they’re too young for this stuff. It’ll knock them out for hours.”
“Yes, I figured they could use it after what they've bee
n through.”
Cerrapies nodded. Neronn was never a large drinker since he got to Dyyros, mainly because their beverages here didn’t contain much alcohol to begin with. Since Dyyros didn’t grow most of the ingredients and trade was virtually non-existent, they fermented alcohol from fruits or other plants that produced a similar buzz. Sure, it was less harmful to the body and allowed one to drink for days straight without dying from having too much. Yet, after having the real thing for the first part of his life, it was hard to drink this weak stuff. This wine was of his own concoction, mixed with a strong imported Rudannian wine and local berries, making it doubly potent.
Neronn raised his glass, and the others did the same. The fire almost reacted in the same way by raising its flame a couple inches higher.
“Let us toast to the return of peace to Dyyros, as well as the fall of the cruel dictator, Ulcinar!”
Levus commented, “I’ll drink to that.”
All drank their cups empty. Divi seemed to have a hard time getting it down, as she was unfamiliar with the strength of this wine. Levus tried to match Cerrapies, but it was not as easy as his blacksmith friend made it look. As they finished, the two were already starting to feel its effects. Just as Cerrapies predicted, they were out within twenty minutes. Cerrapies and Neronn continued to talk for another couple hours about the old days.
What neither one knew was that they were being watched. The same Night Predator observer who Cerrapies scared a couple days earlier, was right on them again. This time, he got the information it was looking for. What used to be pure speculation was now fact. It was time to inform his superior and reap the rewards it would bring.
***
Keth sat patiently in his seat. The throne was entirely of stone and interestingly made. The seat seemed to lean to one side, with the armrest at the same height. The back of the chair was short. Keth sat back when the echo of footsteps grew closer. All the other Night Predators that formed his higher command looked in the direction of the incoming sound. Within seconds, the Night Predator that had watched Cerrapies’ cart came rushing toward the throne. Keth stood up in anticipation of the news his messenger brought. The messenger stopped dead in his tracks in front of the leader.
