Wanderer's Song

by P. E. Padilla

  She focused her eyes from her hiding place and realized that the red hair she saw wasn’t the same color as Aeden’s. It was lighter red than his, and it was longer. As a space opened up between the fighting black bodies, she glimpsed a woman, moving with the grace of a skilled warrior, but also casting magic about her, flashes of light and fire burning away at her foes. No, it wasn’t Aeden, but someone else. Someone who carved through her enemies as if they were wheat and she had the sharpest of scythes.

  For a second, Fahtin’s eyes met the red-haired woman’s, but then the warrior looked away, occupied with fighting numbers of the creatures that should have overwhelmed her.

  That was well and good, but Fahtin couldn’t trust that the warrior was on her side just because they shared an enemy. She would take no chances. She crawled as best she could with her arms and legs tied, going farther into the foliage. Once there, she wriggled until she could remove the knife strapped to her leg. When she finally bared the blade, it was only a minute until she was able to saw through the ropes binding her arms. The blood rushed back into them as the ropes fell free. Shaking them out was painful, like a thousand ants biting her along the length of her forearms and hands. She welcomed it, though, dropping her knife and rubbing vigorously at her limbs.

  A few slices of the sharp blade and the ropes fell away from her legs as well. She was free. If only she could get away from the area, find some food, and survive the day.

  By this time, the sound of battle had all but died down. Peeking out from her hiding place, Fahtin saw that the woman, with at least three others, were finishing off the animaru that remained. The big, hairy leader of the band was motionless at her feet, no doubt fallen to her sword and magic.

  Fahtin knew she needed to hide better, get away from where she was, before the group killing the animaru finished their grisly task. She moved as quietly and surely as she could through the choking vegetation, scratching herself on small branches and nettles.

  “I’m going to look for her, Marla,” one of the men said from a few dozen feet away from Fahtin’s current hiding place. “She looked like she was a prisoner.”

  “Leave off, Tirn,” the woman’s voice came. “She obviously doesn’t want us to find her, and we don’t have time to search.”

  “She looked injured, all trussed up like that,” he said.

  “She’s not tied up anymore,” the woman said. “Her ropes are right here. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have to let her make her own way. We spent enough time dealing with these—” there was a spitting sound “—and we have important work to do. You know that.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Let’s go. She’ll be fine. She got the ropes off. That’s the important part. This area is full of roots, vegetables, and fruit. It’s all anyone can ask. Come on. We have work to do.”

  “Fine,” the man said. Fahtin could almost feel him looking around, his gaze passing over her. She heard him turn a circle—a softer sound than walking—and then crash through the foliage back to the path. The sound of their conversation dwindled as they headed off to wherever their important mission required them to go.

  Fahtin sighed and allowed her body to slump. She realized she was clutching tightly at her knife, her knuckles gone white and her forearm aching from the effort. She sheathed the blade and looked around. First she would find something to eat and drink. Then she would start heading back from where they had come. She would find her friends, eventually, and then they could continue with their mission. The Gypta girl would not die today. Not today, and hopefully not anytime soon.

  Aeden dropped his pack near the stream where they stopped to rest for a few minutes. They had been chasing after Fahtin’s captors for nearly five days, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. Raki stumbled and managed a controlled fall to the ground next to him, rolling onto his back and looking up at the sky. The boy had dark circles under his eyes and was paler than normal. If Aeden was having trouble, how much more would Raki be struggling?

  Aila Ven dropped her pack next to Aeden and sat down, drawing her knees up to her chest. She was dirty, her face smudged with dust that had clung to her perspiration, but she was still so beautiful. Aeden figured other women would hate her for that.

  “Damn,” she huffed. “I didn’t know that I would have to work this hard when I agreed to join your little group.” She flashed him a sly, but tired, grin.

  “Yeah, well,” he said to her, his expression grim, “never let it be said that I don’t know how to show a lady a good time.”

  She snorted and made a show of looking to the left and then to the right. “Lady? No ladies here. Only a smelly, sweaty girl who wishes she could soak in a bath for a week.”

  Aeden’s face remained serious. “Sorry about this, Aila. You don’t have to come with us, you know.”

  “Fahtin is my friend,” she said defiantly. “I have as much cause to go after her as the rest of you, more than some.” She eyed Urun and Tere a little further down the stream. “I will continue. She will not remain in captivity while I’m alive.”

  “Thank you,” Aeden said. “I’m sure it will mean a lot to her. It means a lot to me.”

  “Don’t you forget it. When we have her back safe, then we’ll talk about how you can repay me.”

  “How she can repay you, you mean,” Aeden said.

  “No. I think I like the idea of you needing to repay me more.” She winked at him and crawled toward the edge of the stream to splash water on her face. The way her tight britches moved made his face grow hot. Of all the times to think about such things, now was not it.

  She wiggled her behind a bit. “Do you like what you see?” she said, almost purring.

  He promptly moved up beside her and dunked his entire head in the water. For some reason, the day had grown uncomfortably warm. It must have been his exertion. As he came up out of the water, he could hear her laughing.

  They drank from the stream, ate a few pieces of dried meat and stale bread, and began moving again. They all knew they couldn’t match the pace of the animaru, but every step they took brought them closer to wherever the creatures were taking Fahtin. The urgency was palpable, a living thing, one of their companions. Aeden mentally nodded toward it in respect and set his mind to his task.

  Late that day, Aeden’s little party ascended a rise. It was a hill bald of trees for the most part, strange in this area where most of the landscape was carpeted with trees of different types. As they neared the top, movement caught Aeden’s eyes.

  As tired as he was, his swords were out in a blink, and he set his legs in a stable stance on the tilted terrain, ready to do combat. In the fading light of the sun, which showed barely half its shape above the horizon, the Croagh saw a shimmery vision. Its long, dark hair, matted and dirty, floated on the breezes blowing at the top of the hill. Its bright, loose clothing rippled in that same wind, tears showing through in places, stains visible in others. The apparition stumbled as it walked, almost like it would fall down the hill toward them.

  Aeden sheathed his swords in one motion and found that his tired legs had the strength for one more sprint. He had covered half the distance before the others noticed, and then they joined the chase.

  He made it to the figure ahead of him and swept it up into an embrace. Fahtin collapsed in his arms, all strength gone from her legs. As he held onto her as if he might lose her again, she whispered to him, “I knew you’d come for me.” She coughed weakly and then added, “But you took too long, so I had to do the job myself.” Bedraggled, dirty, and exhausted, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He laughed, the first real laugh in days, and cradled her to his chest, whispering soothing things into her ear. She was asleep before he had even been able to gently lower her to the grass.

  Urun healed Fahtin of the cuts, bruises, and scrapes she had acquired. Though exhausted himself, Aeden carried Fahtin down from the hill to make camp in the trees at the base of it. They gave her water, as m
uch as she could drink, and fed her small morsels of food. The priest cautioned against too much food. She had been starved, he said, and it would be a few days until she would eat normally. Until then, a little food would do.

  She slept for half the night, ate and drank a little more, and fell into exhausted sleep again for the rest of the night. In the morning, an hour after sunrise, she stirred and sat up.

  “You look much better than when we found you yesterday,” Aeden said. “I was concerned for you.”

  “I was concerned for me,” she said. “So what are you saying, that I was ugly yesterday but presentable today?”

  Why did women do that? Why did he have to be careful about how he phrased things all the time?

  “No. You are beautiful, and you were beautiful when we found you. You just looked tired, worn out.”

  “I was beautifully worn out looking?” she said.

  “Daight daedos ist,” he muttered, and then said, more loudly, “Yes, exactly.” His comical smile made her giggle, a wonderful sound.

  “Oh, I’m just teasing you,” Fahtin said. “You look tired yourself. Maybe we should just rest until we both look fantastic.” She ran her palm along his cheek. “I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw you. You were the best thing I had ever seen.”

  He smiled at her. “Well, get used to looking at me. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Ahem,” Aila came up to them. “How are you, Fahtin? We were all so worried about you.”

  Fahtin dragged her eyes away from Aeden’s and looked toward the shorter woman. “I feel much better, Aila. Thank you so much for coming for me. I had hoped everyone was all right, but was relieved to see you all yesterday.”

  “Some of us had some nasty wounds from the battle, but Urun healed us before we set out to find you. Handy thing, that healing.”

  The others came over, and Tere Chizzit told Fahtin their account of the battle and the chase. Fahtin explained to them her ordeal and the way she was able to escape.

  “A woman and a few men took on the entire group that abducted you, hundreds of them?” Aeden said. “I wonder who they are, how they’re able to kill the animaru like that. I’d like to meet them.”

  “They used magic, and fought with great skill,” Fahtin said. “Maybe I should have talked to them.”

  “You did the right thing,” Urun said. “There’s no telling who they are or what they’re after. Maybe we’ll meet them in the future, but for now, we’re just glad you’re back safe with us. Now we can get on with the mission.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Aeden said.

  53

  “What do you mean you changed your mind about it?” Urun Chinowa said, a scowl forming on his face.

  Aeden looked at the priest calmly. “I think we have a valuable opportunity here, one we should take advantage of. These animaru were sent by whoever is in command. They would not be expected to fail. I think we are probably closer to their headquarters than we are to the Academy. We could finish this now, while they are not expecting us. They had to have sent most of their troops with the two animaru who were leading them. How many more could there be?”

  “Are you saying we should go to where these things came from?” Urun said. “Attack the heart of them? Are you out of your mind?”

  “What do you think will happen, Urun, if we take the time—maybe a month or more—to get to the Academy to seek help? What happens if we get there and they won’t help us, or can’t? In the meantime, whoever sent those forces against us will find out we defeated them. They’ll make plans, prepare, at the very least be on guard. When we finally get around to attacking their headquarters, they’ll be ready for us.”

  “Yes, but if we have the help of the Academy, maybe even some of their heroes to aid us—”

  “We’d still be fighting a more prepared foe,” Aeden interrupted. “Maybe they will bring more of the creatures over from their world. They may be doing so now. Time is the important factor here.”

  Urun didn’t have an answer for that. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Aeden.

  “You want to…attack the main force of the animaru?” Fahtin asked, filling the silence.

  “Yes,” Aeden said.

  “How will we even find their lair, though?” Aila asked. “We don’t know where they were going. It still may be hundreds of miles away.”

  “Tere?” Aeden turned to the tracker. “Could you figure out where they came from, where they were going?”

  “I might be able to find an old trail from when they left their base,” Tere said. “But I don’t think I need to. I am pretty sure I know where they were going, based on how they were traveling. Their path is a fairly straight line to some old fortifications to the east. The area is called Broken Reach.It was important in a war many centuries back, when this area was more heavily populated and hotly contested. It would be the perfect place to stage assaults. No one goes there anymore. Not many even know there’s anything there. The land is rugged and difficult.”

  “Could you lead us there?” Aeden asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Will you lead us there?”

  Tere Chizzit looked at the others, spending several seconds facing Urun, though his white eyes didn’t change or focus in any way. He nodded. “Yes, I will lead you there.”

  Urun threw up his hands. “Really? We’re going to give up the mission we have been working so hard at completing to go haring off in a new direction?”

  “Urun, we’re not—” Aeden started.

  Fahtin interrupted him, stepping between the two and blocking their vision of each other. “Urun. We’re not changing the mission. All along, it has been to find and destroy the black creatures that have been terrorizing villages and towns. It seemed that going to the Academy was the best way to accomplish that, but now it seems that we can do better.

  “I, for one, would still like it if we had some heroes from Sitor-Kanda on our side, but Aeden is right. We need to take this opportunity and attack while our enemies are unaware that we live. Even the ones that captured me seemed to be in a rush for some reason. Can’t you see that this could be a better option than trying to get the help of the Academy, help we might not even be able to obtain?”

  The young priest ran his fingers through his hair. “I can understand all that, but you are all avoiding one key point. What if we run into a force of double or triple the size of the ones we have already encountered, or even more? What if the ones we met were only a scouting party or a small raiding force to them, and they have tens of thousands of the creatures sitting around their headquarters, waiting for an excuse to kill humans? What of that?”

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Aeden said.

  Urun stepped to the side to look past Fahtin at Aeden. “Do you truly want to die? Does the end of your life mean nothing to you?”

  Aeden locked eyes with the priest, blue eyes meeting gray. He didn’t speak for a moment, pausing as if thinking about the question. “No. I do not want to die. But neither do I want to make a decision based on fear of dying.”

  “What does that even mean?” the priest snapped.

  “I believe our best chance of ending the conflict, of completing our quest to eliminate the invaders from another world, is to find their heart and destroy it. There are too many ifs in going to the Academy, and too much time will be taken. Take the fear of defeat out of the decision, and it becomes clearer.”

  “But you can’t take the fear of defeat out of the decision. There is a greater chance of losing if we go in blind and attack now.”

  “I don’t believe that is true,” Aeden said. “I think that if they have time to prepare, we are more likely to lose. Surprise gives us the edge.”

  Urun opened his mouth to say something else, but then closed it. He looked pensive, his eyes seeming to focus inside himself. His brow furrowed. He raised a finger and opened his mouth again as if to make a point, but then
lowered his hand and remained silent. After a moment, he sighed and said, “I just don’t know. What about the rest of you?”

  “What he says makes sense,” Tere Chizzit said. “Either way, we’ll probably die, but I think this plan will give just a little bit better chance that some of us may survive and that we can cut the head off this beast.”

  ‘I agree with Aeden,” Fahtin said, giving Urun a sympathetic look.

  “I will go with Aeden, whatever he decides to do,” Raki said, looking at the ground as if embarrassed.

  “Aila?” Urun looked toward the black-clad woman.

  “I’m not all that excited about either option. Both seem to me to have a pretty good probability that I’ll die.”

  “You don’t need to go with us, Aila,” Aeden said. “You can leave anytime.”

  “Now just hold on there,” she said. “I wasn’t saying I wasn’t going to go. I’m just wondering, you know, what’s in it for me? I mean, something like this, putting my life on the line, that should be worth something, right?”

  Aeden found himself staring at her with his mouth open. Did she just ask about a reward, some kind of payment for helping to save the world? “There is no reward, Aila. No gold, no treasure, nothing like that. We’re trying to save Dizhelim from invaders, for Codaghan’s sake. What is wrong with you?”

  The diminutive woman stepped back and flinched as if struck.

  “Now, Aeden,” Fahtin said. “Don’t be so harsh. Aila’s had it rough all her life. You can’t blame her for thinking about getting something for her efforts.” She turned to Aila. “Aila, let me put it to you plainly. There is probably nothing that any of us will get for this other than the knowledge that we saved the world we live in from invaders from another world. That’s it.”

  “Oh, okay,” Aila said, taking up a handful of hair and fiddling with it. “I was just checking. I’ll do whatever Aeden thinks is right, then.” She winked at him, and he wondered how much of everything she did at any time was an act and how much was real.

  “Fine,” Urun said. “I seem to find myself doing things against my better judgment since I met all of you, but I do have a charge from my goddess, so I’ll go with you. My only regret is that as we die, I probably won’t have time to tell you I told you so.”