Wanderer's Song

by P. E. Padilla

  “Stop,” Tere Chizzit said. Aeden was dragging the litter, and he halted so abruptly that he almost fell over. “If he is present, the one we seek is just through those trees, in a small clearing. I need to warn you that he may seem…odd. He is a good man, but living alone in the forest for so long has made him act a little differently than others you might have met. Just keep that in mind.”

  Aeden looked at Fahtin and she looked back. He shrugged at her and started following Tere. As the blind man said, they soon passed through the vegetation into a small clearing, almost a meadow. Long grass covered most of it, with the tops of a few rocks and the long profile of a fallen tree peeking out from the tops of the blades.

  At the edge of the space was a small, well-constructed house. It had two windows, one on either side of the doorway, and smoke curled up from the chimney near the back of the building. It was the oddest structure Aeden had ever seen. It looked as if it had grown up from the ground in one solid piece. The lines of it were smooth and without joint, rounder than a typical house. The roof seemed to be branches with thick foliage, still living and vital.

  A man opened the door as they approached. His black hair was messy, reinforcing the image the several days’ growth on his face gave. He was slender, but fit looking. His shoulders slumped slightly, making him look almost slovenly. When he caught sight of them, his gray eyes flashed and a smile leapt onto his face.

  “Ah, visitors,” he said, but then the smile disappeared. “And me with no bread in the oven or cakes to offer. My, my. I am failing at being a host. She will not appreciate that. No. ‘Set an example,’ she would tell me, ‘bring glory to my name.’ No, she will not be happy at all.” His eyes seemed to be looking at something far off as he got caught up in his introspection.

  “Urun,” Tere Chizzit said firmly. “Urun,” he repeated when he did not get the man’s attention.

  “What?” the young man said. He swiveled his eyes to the blind man and tightened them to focus. “Ah, Tere Chizzit. Well met, my friend. How is it you find yourself here at my door?”

  “Urun, we need help. This boy has been attacked by a barb plant. He was injected with poison from more than a dozen of the thorns.”

  The man blinked and then caught sight of the others, Fahtin and Aeden standing, Raki in his litter. “Barb plant? Nasty things, those. Have you used yellow wort?”

  “We have, along with Hunsen’s nettle and draw weed to remove as much of the poison as possible. It’s too much venom for the herbs to counteract. He needs you, or he will die.”

  “Yes, yes.” Urun said. “Of course. Well, bring him in. I will see what I can do.”

  36

  Tere picked up one end of the stretcher and Aeden the other. They brought him into the house, the Croagh stumbling three times before he was finally able to set his friend down on the table. As he passed the owner of the house, he heard the man muttering something.

  “Visitors. Yes, it has been a long time. It surely has...”

  Urun trailed off as he eyed the others and raised an eyebrow. Tere Chizzit snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face and pointed to Raki. “Take care of the boy first. I will give introductions later. He needs you now. He’s dying, Urun.”

  The strange man turned his attention to Raki. Tere pointed toward a pair of large upholstered armchairs and the other two sat down. Once he was still, Aeden’s eyes began to close. He could just make out the man, this Urun, chanting or singing something, and then he lost all sense of time and space before sleep took him.

  When Aeden opened his eyes again, there was a smell of food in the air, fresh bread and some kind of stew. His mouth watered, and he realized it had been more than a day since he had a real meal. Probably much longer than a day by the light slanting in the windows.

  He stirred and found that someone had put a blanket over him. Fahtin, curled up in a chair nearby, was still sleeping, her breathing regular. She looked peaceful there. And safe. Tere Chizzit was sitting at the table where they had lain Raki the night before. He was talking to a man.

  Yes, that’s right, the man they had come to see. It was coming back to him now. How long had he slept? Where was Raki?

  Tere Chizzit’s head swiveled to Aeden. “He’s sleeping in the other room,” he said, answering the question Aeden hadn’t had a chance to ask. “And you slept for the rest of the night and most of the morning. Come, have some breakfast. Or lunch.”

  Aeden got up and walked to the table, keeping the blanket wrapped around him.

  “Aeden of Clan Tannoch of the highland Croagh, meet Urun Chinowa, High Priest of the goddess Osulin, and all-around good guy.”

  The man, not quite so young as Aeden, but no more than a few years older, stood and put his hand out. When Aeden looked into the other man’s gray eyes, he saw power dancing there. The man shook his hand firmly.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Aeden.”

  “For me as well. Thank you for helping us.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Nasty bit of work, that barb plant poison, but we got it all sorted out. I have removed it from your friend and he sleeps now to allow his body to recover from the shock. He will be fine, though when he wakes he will be as hungry as three men.” A curious look passed over the man’s face, as if he had forgotten where he was. “Oh,” he said it so abruptly that Aeden jumped. “Food. How rude of me. Forgive me, Aeden. Would you like something to eat? I have fresh bread and a nice vegetable stew.”

  “Aye, that would be much appreciated.”

  Urun set about gathering the food. He brought a full loaf of bread on a platter—still steaming from the oven—a variety of cheese, bowls of thick stew, and a pitcher of milk. The two guests set about eating, but Urun just sat there staring outward, his eyes unfocused.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you have recent wounds,” the priest said, “some of them with a kind of taint. They are not infected, but I could wipe them away from you, if you would like.”

  Aeden stopped mid-chew. He looked over at Tere Chizzit and found the man’s white eyes pointed toward him.

  “Urun serves Osulin. She is a nature goddess. Her domain is the entire natural world. She provides him with a measure of power, of magic. He’s a healer.”

  Aeden swallowed. “Oh, I see.” He turned toward Urun. “I thank you, but the wounds are small. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you after everything else you have done for us.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, Aeden,” Urun said. “It won’t take but a few seconds. I offer it freely, with no obligation. Really, it is my desire just to help.”

  Tere nodded and Aeden figured that his not accepting would be insulting to his host. “Very well,” he said. “Thank you.”

  He had thought that the man would touch him, lay hands on him, or perform some ritual. Instead, he muttered a few words and waved his hand toward Aeden. A wash of cold went over him and soaked into his body. It felt like he was being dipped slowly into a pool of cold water. It was unsettling, but not unpleasant. It passed through him starting at the head and moving along until it exited his feet. When the power left him, he felt wonderful. His wounds were healed, but so was his soreness from the last few days and even his aches from sleeping in the chair. It was fantastic.

  “That feels marvelous,” he said to the priest. “Thank you. It is a great gift.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  “I explained to Urun about the creatures following us, and the small group of them that attacked us,” Tere Chizzit said. “A scouting party, no doubt, or it would have been much bigger. He is aware of the animaru, though they haven’t dared to come near his home. He thinks it’s because of the nature magic he wields.”

  A soft groan from the other side of the room announced that Fahtin had awoken.

  “Good morning, sleepy-head,” Aeden said to her. “Do you fancy something to eat or drink?”

  She lifted her head and nodded. Her long, black hair was tangled and held a strange shape from sleeping, and
her eyes squinted, trying to focus, but she was still beautiful. Urun noticed that fact immediately.

  “My Lady,” he said, “please allow me to get whatever it is you desire. Bread, milk, stew, the moon? Just ask and I will bring it to you.”

  She laughed as she got up from her chair, wrapping her own blanket around her as Aeden had. She shuffled to the table and sat down next to the Croagh. “You are very kind…?”

  “Urun,” the priest said, “Urun Chinowa, at your service.”

  “You are very kind, Urun. Whatever the others are having would be wonderful. Thank you so much for helping us out. Oh! Raki. How is he? Where is he?”

  “He’s in the other room,” Tere Chizzit said, frowning as if perturbed to have to repeat himself. “He’ll be awake soon and you can talk to him then. Until then, let’s just eat.”

  They did so. Soon, they had their fill and sat chatting and waiting for their friend to wake up.

  When Aeden mentioned Urun was a priest to the goddess Osulin, she smiled and her eyes lit up. “Osulin?” she said. “The same Osulin who is the daughter of Mellaine and the human Trikus Phen?”

  “You know of her?” Urun said, obviously proud.

  “Oh, yes. I have heard the story of Trikus and Mellaine many times.” She turned to Aeden. “Don’t you remember? We heard it not more than a few months ago.”

  “I remember, now that you mention it.”

  “I love that story,” she said. “It’s one of my favorites. When the other gods left Dizhelim, she stayed because she loves humans and out of respect for her father. How did you come to be her priest? Were your parents in her service?”

  “No, oh no,” he said. “They are farmers. I am actually the first priest of Osulin for more than a thousand years. She never did go in for the whole setting up a priesthood thing. It was more happenstance that made her take me in.”

  Fahtin leaned forward, elbows on the table, and opened her eyes wide. “Tell us the story. We have to wait for Raki to wake anyway. I would love to hear it.”

  “I…I suppose I could tell you about it. Yes, I could.” He sat across the table from Fahtin. “Where to start? Should it be a long story or a short one? Hmmm.”

  “Maybe just give us the bones of it, Urun,” Tere Chizzit said. “Elsewise, you’ll be speaking still when the sun goes down, and we all starve to death.”

  The younger man looked to Tere, stared at him for a moment, and then looked away as he was raising his chin. “I really do not know what you are talking about, Tere Chizzit.” He smiled and looked toward Fahtin. “But I will give you the bones of the story.”

  He settled into his chair and began his tale.

  Khrazhti had seen many victories in her three thousand years of existence, and she had seen a few defeats. She preferred victories. The news she had just received was not of a victory.

  “Another search party has gone missing?” she asked General Daosa.

  “High Priestess, it was not even a score of searchers. They are easily replaced.”

  “No, General,” she said. “You don’t seem to understand. This one we are hunting, he is the Gneisprumay, I have no doubt. His power is such that he can destroy animaru. Actually destroy them. Not send back their essence to their spawning ground if they have the twinkling, but actually end their existence forever. Do you understand that, General?”

  “I do, My Lady. Forgive me. I do not mean to minimize the value of our troops. I merely mean to say—”

  “General Daosa, I will be very clear. We have a limited number of troops in this world. We cannot afford to lose them endlessly. You must control them. Give them orders. If they detect the One, they must request reinforcements. A sufficient number can overcome our foe. We must do this intelligently.”

  “Yes, My Lady.” The general saluted.

  “Begone,” Khrazhti said. “Find the Gneisprumay and destroy him. Our god is waiting. We must do our part.”

  “Yes, My Lady. I will see it done.” The general saluted again and left the room.

  Was it too much to ask for her orders to be carried out? She thought not. She had never had trouble tracking her foes and defeating them, not in thousands of years. Of course, that was on her own world, one she knew well. This place was too strange, too different. Not for the first time, she wondered if she would have preferred not having the privilege of commanding her forces here.

  But, of course, that way of thinking brought no glory to S’ru. She had been shown great honor in being allowed to make way for her god to come to this world. She must remember that. She would learn how to manipulate things in this world as she had in her own. She would not fail.

  “They are here, My Lady,” the attendant said.

  “Good. Let them in.”

  The attendant opened the door and two of Khrazhti’s finest resources entered.

  Koixus strode in first, as was typical, being more assertive than Maenat. One would never know that they were exactly opposite when it came to battle.

  Koixus’s tall, thin form was much lighter in color than most of the others, a gray to their black, but if anything, she reveled in being different. Khrazhti, with her light blue skin, knew exactly how the other felt in that respect. As Koixus walked, her grace and fluidity had a mesmerizing effect. Her yellow eyes, another rarity, blinked only once every few minutes and always seemed to be staring. As one would expect, she was very observant. And, of course, very dangerous.

  Maenat was half a foot shorter than Koixus, and whereas she had not one strand of hair on her entire body, he was covered in coarse black hair from head to toe. His red eyes blazed with the magic he used—and used well—against his foes. He meekly followed Koixus into the room, but when it came time to attack, he took great pleasure in being first in viciously pushing against his enemies, the more the better. The only time Khrazhti had ever seen him smile was when he was in battle.

  “You have been briefed on the situation,” she said to them. There was no use wasting time. “The Gneisprumay has been located and must be destroyed. He is proving to be difficult. I want you two to hunt him down and end his opposition. It is the first and most important step in bringing S’ru to this world.”

  Koixus stretched her finger until it resembled the blade of a knife. Then she used it to pick at her teeth. “Is this one truly so powerful that the army cannot take him?”

  “He uses the magic of life and light,” Khrazhti said, “as was foretold. His magic can actually destroy the essence of the animaru. Not respawning due to the twinkling. I mean truly end the existence of any animaru he overcomes. It is unthinkable, but it is true. We have lost scores of soldiers already.”

  “Hmmm,” Koixus said, stretching two of her other fingers into long ovals and slapping them together, making a clanging noise.

  Khrazhti was irritated by her habit, but said nothing. If she kept her skill at elongating her form useful by playing these little games, so be it.

  “I wonder how this one’s life magic would fare against my death magic,” Maenat said. “It would be an epic battle indeed.”

  Khrazhti watched his red eyes as they glazed over. He was running through scenarios in his mind again, a grand battle of death magic versus life. Warfare was everything to Maenat. He was a master at the use of the death magic, and he had jumped at the opportunity to come to this world.

  “Imagine,” he had said to her while still in Aruzhelim, “an entire world full of creatures we have not battled before. How many can I battle there?”

  “As many as you like,” Khrazhti had said. “Our primary goal is to end life on that world so that S’ru can take it for his own and the animaru can populate it. There are many things there that have life. Not just humans, but animals and even plants.” That last word was one not native to their tongue. She had to learn it in the imitation language that had been used on the new world, this Alaqotim. They had no such things on their world.

  Maenat’s eyes focused again and he sighed. “How many troops will be assigned
to us?” The two were assassins, and so usually worked alone or with one or two others. This time it would be different.

  “As many as you think you might need,” Khrazhti said. “They can travel with you or follow you. You have complete command of them. I will draw them equally from the generals’ troops. Let me be clear. I know you enjoy playing with your foes, but I want this Gneisprumay killed as quickly as possible. There are plenty of other things for you to play with in this world. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Koixus said.

  Maenat just nodded.

  “Good. Start immediately. I want you and your forces out of this fortress by the end of the day.”

  The two assassins saluted and left the room, leaving Khrazhti alone once again. This time, the One would die. Everything would become easier after that. She knew it would.

  37

  Urun Chinowa had been a curious child. Not only that, but he was unique among those he knew for his adoration and devotion to nature and all the things of the natural world. Plants, trees, rivers, rocks, all the animals and the insects, he took joy in seeing all of them. His earliest recollections were of fighting with other kids to prevent them from killing insects.

  While other children his age played war and fought with sticks, Urun was exploring, marveling at the wonder of the nearby woods bordering the Grundenwald. He was expressly forbidden to enter that ancient forest because of the many dangers, but the more civilized bordering trees were fine with him. The more he explored, the more the desire burned in him to learn more about the natural world.

  When he was nine years old, he found Magda, the healer in his small village of Brausprech. He had seen her before, of course, but did not know the role she played in the village. When he found out, he was amazed.