by Wayne Mee
"The Horse People, Lady. Wild and quick just like the beasts they ride! Fierce and proud they're said to be too, though primitive."
At this point Timin jumped into the conversation. "Thorn's right, Lady! Proper savages the Ishtar be, living in tents made from the skins of some great animal called a 'bison'. Great herds of them there are, covering the plain for as far as the eye can see!"
Mithdar leaned close to Zoean.
"You'll have to excuse them, Zoean, but Kirkwean will go on and on about the most trivial bit of gossip, especially if it deals even remotely with their beloved Wold."
Zoean smiled back at the mage. "On the contrary, old friend, I find it commendable that these little people know so much about the vast lands that surround them."
She turned and smiled at Timin. "Have you ever actually seen one of these 'fierce' Ishtar?"
The little Kirkwean flushed. "Well, no, Lady, I haven't; but my third cousin Snazle, he had a friend who once went all the way to The Forks! Strange folk live in those parts! Men built the town to trade with the Ishtar. And Kirks live there too, though why I'll never know!"
"'Kirks'", Mithdar said by way of explanation; "is the name given to Kirkwean who live outside The Wold. As a rule they are both larger and, ah, more 'urban' than these two fine fellows you see before you."
"Kirks are right queer if you ask me!", Timin said. "T'aint natural for Kirkwean to live with Tall Folk. Why, they even build their houses on the ground!"
Nobert, who had been sitting his mount scowling, hawked and spit contemptuously to one side. Zoean, knowing well the moods of her life-long servant, turned to the frowning Dryfallen.
"You have some witticism to add, Nob?"
The grizzled bodyguard grunted. "By your leave, Lady Zoean."
"Or without it!", Zoean quipped. "Well, out with it, Nob, for you've always been one to speak your mind!"
A grim smile flashed across his weathered face. "T'is the company I keep, for I but follow your example, m'lady."
Zoean flushed suddenly red, then, just as quickly, flashed a gleaming smile of her own.
Nob plunged ahead. "As to these Ishtar now. I also know a thing or two about them. Long ago it was, in my 'wanderin' days', before I handswore to Agwain, your father."
"Before I was born, you mean," Zoean added.
"Aye, lass, that it were. Comin' west from Toman-Glith we crossed a sea o' grass. The Veld they call it. Goes on for hundreds o' kilvels in every direction. Quent shrivel me, but how I longed for the sight o' a tree or a hill!"
Zoean leaned closer. "You are getting to it, aren't you old twig?"
"That's just it, lass! We DID get to it! Risin' right up out o' that sea o' grass it were! Biggest quiffin' hill I ever seen!"
Seeing Zoean's frown, Nob rushed on.
"Well, to cut it short, we head up this mountain n' we be just into the pines when they hit us! A whole tribe o' the painted demons comes screaming down at us, yellin' n' whoopin' n' riddin' their mounts bareback!
"We killed a few, them havin' no iron and usin' nothin' but bows and lances tipped with flint, but they still got us in the end. Staked out most o' the lads on anthills 'n poured honey on their faces!" The old Dryfallen shuddered.
"How be it they let you live?", asked Erin.
"I haven't the slightest idea, son. But they did. Me n' two others. Took us back to their hide village n' worked us like slaves. Two year I followed those demons. Up n' down The Veld, chasin' the great, hairy bison 'n tendin' their half-wild herds o' ponies. Come the second spring, me n' the other two busted loose. Far as I know I be the only one that made it."
"Nob," Zoean asked, her voice thick with emotion. "How is it you never told me of this before?"
The old warrior shrugged. "Didn't seem like a fittin' tale for a wee lassie to hear. But now that we be headin' in those quiffer's direction, I thought that maybe it should come out."
"Have you ever been to this town called The Forks?", Erin asked.
Nobert shook his head. "Like I said, it was some time ago. Men probably hadn't made their way that far up river way back then."
Mithdar broke the silence by suggesting that an early camp be made and that in the morning they could go down and ask around this town called The Forks for any news of trouble up in The Wold. None argued, and soon Timin had his shiny old teapot brewing over a cheery little fire.
***
The Companions stood on a high hill looking down at the village. A knot of rough, wooden buildings lay clustered together on the southern shore just below where the Nal Verg-Loth branched off northwards from the much wider, eastwardly flowing Nal Torrent. Several river barges were moored to a dock of rough logs that thrust its way out into the swirling river, as was a small single-masted sloop. Tiny figures could be seen loading large bales of what looked like furs onto the waiting barges. Only a few of the buildings were of stone, the largest one being an inn on the edge of town. It was to this structure that the Companions cautiously made their way.
After spending weeks in the high, lonely mountains, it seemed strange to see others bustling about, oblivious to all save their own personal business. Not that the Companions weren't given a second or even a third glance by the inhabitants, its just that The Forks was a trading center, accustomed to seeing strangers from strange lands. Much like the town of Blackwater, far to the south, The Forks was a place to trade or sell your goods fast and with no questions asked. Where either the goods or the one selling them came from seldom, if ever, was discussed.
Onooga reined in her tired mount in front of the two-storied stone building and pointed at the sign over the door. Roary, glancing up, smiled as he read the fading sign. "'The Lusty Bison'! So that's what this fabulous beast of yours looks like! A great, shaggy, pregnant cow!"
"With horns that could rip your guts out, Minstrel, 'afore ye could shout yer mother's name!"
The bard, his feathered hat set at a cocky angle, quipped back at Nob. "That would be a feat indeed, good Nobert, since I never had the pleasure of making the lady's acquaintance!"
"Ho!", retorted the graying Dryfallen, a broad smile on his grizzled features. "I knew from the first, lad, that ye be a right bastard! But I'll not hold that again' ye. Myself was after being birthed on the wrong side o' the sheets as it were, 'n look what a fine specimen I turned out to be!"
As they dismounted, Timin suddenly tugged his cousin's shoulder.
"Look, Thorn! Over by the barn! It's a Kirk!"
Thorn saw a shabby young lad come out of the barn and make straight for them. Dressed in what was obviously cut-down 'manling' clothes, the fellow grinned and hastily pulled off his battered hat.
"Greetin's sors 'n fine ladies! I be Gelf, ta stable-bi. Step doon 'n gimmi yer mounts 'n I'll tend to 'em right proper-like!"
Thorn, seeing that the lad, though over-large and lacking the wide, clear eyes of a Kirkwean, was still at least partways of his own race, spoke a greeting in his own tongue. Gelf, however, merely looked puzzled, then, still scratching his straw-like hair, beamed up at Thorn.
"I know little o' the Old Tongue, sor. Mostly Tall Folk round here. Besides, me mistress don't take kindly ta it." He lowered his voice and stepped closer. "We don'ts get many Wee'ns doon 'ere, though I've 'eard o' some leavin' ta Wold now that trouble's come."
"Then you know about the invasion?"
Gelf's small eyes nearly crossed.
"The trouble up in The Wold!"
"Oh, oie, sor! Great bleedin' Slathers they say! Makin' slaves out 'o all ta Wee'ns they be! But then, beggin' yer pardon, sors, but you'd be knowin' more o' that than me, you just comin' from there n' all."
"But we've not just come from there!", Timin burst in. "We've been..."
"Away!", Thorn said, cutting off his flustered cousin. "Down south on business. We heard something of the trouble, but very little of the details. We'd be willing to pay for what you've heard."
"Oh, oie now, 'n I'd be right glad ta tell ye, but I already told ye all I 'ea
rd. Me mistress now, she might know more. We gets plenty o' strangers 'ear in Ta Forks, 'n most o' em pass through the Lusty Bis'n."
"Then it's inside we'll be goin' to have a wee chat with this mistress o' yours," said Erin, flipping Gelf a copper coin. "Be tendin' to the horses proper, lad, n' there'll be another o' those for you when we leave."
Gelf, catching the chipped coin in mid-air, bit it, grinned, and tugged his forelock.
"Thank ye, kind sors! I'll tend 'em like I would me own sweet ma!"
As Gelf led the horses away to the stable, the Companions entered the Lusty Bison.
Though not yet mid-morning, inside the air was heavy with smoke, soot and sweat. The score or so customers already there seemed more like leftovers from the night before than early, eager patrons. For the most part they were a mixed lot: a few farmers in mud-spattered overalls sat nursing mugs of dark ale; some barge-men with brawny arms and bale-hooks stuck in their belts stood arguing by the bar; two semi-dressed 'ladies of pleasure' fawned over a couple of richly dressed traders at a small table by the hearth. Erin's attention, however, was drawn to the bunch drinking at a long table in the center of the smoke-darkened room. By their clothes and weapons Erin made them out to be coastal sailors from Anon Hep.
"Be keepin' an eye on that lot!", he said under his breath.
"Why?", Flynn asked. "Do you know them?"
"I be knowin' their kind," Erin replied. "A Coast Patrol from Hep. Probably off that sloop down by the dock."
"Anon Hep be a far piece from here, laddie," Nob whispered, loosening his sword in his scabbard. "What be that lot doin' in this pest-hole? Still lookin' for you?"
"Two years be a long time, Nob."
"Aye, laddie, but the 'long arm o' the law' also has a long memory!"
"Gentlemen!", said a booming voice. "How may I serve thee?!"
The owner of the large voice came towards them from a door in the rear. A mountain of flesh, swathed in a tent of costly fabric, came to a quivering rest before the wide-eyed Companions.
"I bid thee welcome to my humble establishment, most gracious lords and gentle ladies. Madame Spinette, at your service!"
The quivering mass of flesh sketched a bow, while her heavily made-up, bird-like eyes swiftly sized up her new customers. The all-seeing gaze swept appraisingly over both Zoean and Onooga, glanced quickly over Nobert and Kel, lingered for a moment between tall Flynn and handsome Roary, flitted over Mithdar, raised in sudden surprise over the two Kirkwean and finally came to rest lustfully on Erin's tall, muscular form.
"Wayfarers from several distant lands I see!," she said lightly, sliding a ponderous arm through Erin's. "The Lusty Bison is honored by your presence!"
Though her words were sweet, like her breath, her beady eyes showed none of the false joy painted on her wide smile, especially when her gaze returned to Thorn and Timin.
"But come in, come in! I've a table by the window for you all, and I dare say even two small stools and a low bench can be found for your Wee'n servants! Or would you prefer they ate in the kitchen?"
Mithdar stepped forward, his grey brows knitted in sudden anger. "They are neither our servants nor our slaves, madam, but true and trusted friends, and as such, will sit at the head of our table as befits their station!"
The massive owner of the inn took a startled step back, for suddenly the tired old man in his threadbare robe and battered hat had taken on a new visage; one of power and might and that would brook no quibbling with either his wishes or his words.
'A wizard!', Madame Spinette thought to herself. 'And not the soft-speaking, snake charmer kind either!' She covered her surprise with a courtly bow. "Your pardon, honorable mage. I meant no offense. Come! Nothing but the best for you and your, er, distinguished friends!"
As Madame Spinette showed them to their table, she bellowed out orders to the cook and the serving girls.
"And what would your lordship be wishing first? A horn of mulled ale perhaps, or a glass of wine? I've several bottles of Helmar Red and one very old cask of amber-white from Toman-Glith. Worth a king's ransom it is, but for you the price is only twenty gold anons."
Erin's grey eyes opened wide. "Twenty anons in GOLD did ye say?! Faith, woman! For that price I could buy that sow-bellied sloop anchored out yonder! Aye! AND a crew to sail her!"
The large woman's face drained of all its colour, leaving instead a painted mask of pasty white dough. "I pray thee, sir, kindly lower thy voice! And speak not poorly about yonder ship, for that bunch from Hep are over touchy at best, and their leader be the worst of a bad litter!"
She glanced quickly at the large table in the center of the room. The weapons-men were still eating and drinking. The largest of them, a hulking, red-bearded man, had one of the serving girls on his knee and his paw-like hand down the front of her blouse.
Erin, never one to take advice, good or bad, turned and looked over at the men from Anon Hep.
"What, those Coasters? Fear not, fair lady, both yourself n' your fine inn be in safe hands now that me friends n' meself be here! Now, be a darlin' girl 'n bring on both the red and the amber-white, n' its later the 'honorable mage' here will be settlin' the bill!"
Caught between her fear and her greed, the mountainous matron rationalized that 'gold outweighs caution' and, knowing full well that all wizards could, with a wave of their hand, conjure up and endless stream of the precious metal, decided to through caution to the wind.
"Blina! Tell the cook to dump the stew and bring out those two roast duck he was saving for my dinner! And the leg of lamb as well! Jazmin, Sasha! Leave go fondling those second rate traders and come see to our new guests! Though they've two fine ladies with them, I'll wager your charms will still be wanted by a few of them!"
Turning back to the Companions, she smiled sweetly, inwardly counting the profit she would make. "I'll fetch the wine myself. You did say the red AND the cask of amber-white?"
"To begin with, darlin' girl," Erin beamed. "N' be givin' all the lads n' lassies here a free round o' whatever their particular poison be, 'n be puttin' that on the 'honorable greybeard's bill' as well!
With that the room erupted into a hive of shouts of thanks and scurrying excitement, all centered around the long table of the Ten Companions.
Zoean leaned over to Erin. "Did you HAVE to draw so much attention to us? Or are you just naturally stupid?!"
Erin's grin flashed around the room. "Faith, lass! We came here as strangers seeking information. Tongues loosen after a horn or two, 'n strangers soon become 'fast friends' when men are in their cups. Why, before long they'll be fairly trippin' over themselves to tell us anything we want!"
"And what do YOU want, m'lord?", a husky, feminine voice purred from behind Erin's chair. Turning, he was confronted by one of the 'ladies of pleasure', the scantily clad upper portion of her body pressing against his shoulder.
"Your name, for a start, Sweet Thing!" Erin chose to ignore the dark look Zoean cast his way.
"Sasha", breathed the semi-nude creature, coyly curling a strand of her long, brown hair round a ringed finger ."But I like 'Sweet Thing' better!"
"And what about me?", asked a second, sultry voice.
Erin turned to see yet another transparent vision leaning seductively over the table beside a slightly flushed Flynn.
"Faith, lass! With all that fire-colored hair what else could you be but the 'Goddess o' the Flame'!"
"Ooooo!", cooed the buxom red-head. "Aint you the silver-tongued devil!"
"Forked-tongued goat fits better!", Zoean muttered, turning away in a huff. Flynn shrugged at the Nim-Lothian princess as red-headed Jazmin slid uninvited onto his knee.
The wine arrived and the food shortly after and soon all but Zoean were hard at the feast. At Erin's urging, most of the other patrons had gladly joined in, all that is, save the crew from the Hep sloop.
Roary had just finished his second song when the burly, red-bearded leader of the Coasters loudly banged down his mead-horn.
"Minstrel!", he shouted. "Know ye the one about the randy Delgi and the naked Nim bitch?!"
The silence that followed was so sudden that the low crackling of the hearth-fire seemed to fill the room. Nobert, his weathered face gone suddenly white with rage, was about to rise, but Zoean held him back.
The large captain of the Coasters grinned slyly. "Or perchance you know the one about the slant-eyed grunt and the yellow-haired whore?!"
Slowly the farmers and dockworkers backed away from the long table, all thoughts of free food and drink suddenly gone from their minds.
A tall, thin man at the Coasters' table said something to the grinning red-beard, obviously urging caution, but was shouted down by the others from Anon Hep, all now eager to see their fierce captain continue baiting the Companions. A swarthy, heavy-set sailor laughingly joined in.
"Aye, Cap'n! See if'n the pretty player knows the one 'bout the Nim hunter n' the two woodland sluts!
"Or", cried another; "the dity 'bout the tall Nim witch n' her two pet Kirks!"
The course laughter of the Hep Coasters grated on the Companions ears, and as Erin and the others began to stand, Roary struck a resounding chord on his harp.
"Sad I am to say, good sirs, that I know not any such Heppish tunes as your obvious great and gracious wit calls for, but I do know one that should serve." The bard leaned forward from his perch on the table and winked at the burly Coaster. "It deals with a certain red-bearded captain who, being to ugly of face and foul of tongue to please any maid, and finding his cargo of swine too high-born for his taste, turns instead to his slow witted but always willing crew!"
Now it was the Coasters turn to fall silent. So shocked were they by Roary's cutting sarcasm that they all sat with mouths agape. Then the swarthy, heavy-set one lurched to his feet and drew a wicked looking knife from his belt.
"A bloody ass-quiffer be you calling me, boy? Why, we'll soon see just how 'smart' you'll be when I ram this here shiv up your smart ass!"
As the Coaster began his advance across the empty floor, Erin suddenly turned, raised his small hand-held crossbow and fired. The tiny shaft struck high up on the inside part of the sailor's thigh, causing the startled man to scream and clutch his privates.
