The Elf and the Amulet

by Chris Africa

  "This boy never killed anyone," Chassy stared at the black wall of trees in front of him. "He ran away from home when his father died. He—"

  "You don’t know what you're talking about," Robert said. "Listen, I chose to not kill a boy once, and I was sure sorry for it later."

  How could you be sorry for not killing someone?

  "That’s right," Robert said bitterly. "We were traveling across Dumacha, this very same group plus Yasmina's sister. We were attacked by a band of desert brigands. Here they hide in the trees; in the desert, they wear cloaks that blend into the sand. When they were upon us, I realized they were barely old enough to grow beards."

  Chassy swallowed hard. "What happened?"

  "I let one go. I saw his face, and I put my sword to his throat, and then I let him go. That night, he attacked us in our sleep." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Slit the throat of Yasmina’s sister. A dear friend, and one of our best guards."

  "Wow." Chassy didn’t know what else to say.

  "They were most likely a group of runaways or orphans trying to make their way in the world, as best they knew how. But it ain't the right way, and you can't let them kill you for it." Robert stood to walk away. "Seems we both learned our lesson. So when it’s us or them, I choose us."

  Chassy paused. "What lesson?"

  "Killing is never easy or enjoyable, only something you do when you must. Best you learn that now, before you grow a liking for it."

  "I will never like it," Chassy was shocked by the suggestion. "What kind of person would ever grow a liking for it?"

  Robert shook his head grimly. "There’s those as go in and never come back out. I pray to the gods that will never be you."

  Chassy sat by himself in the darkness for a few minutes, pondering Robert’s words. He felt a keen sorrow for Yasmina and sympathy for Robert, but he did not feel better. He couldn't stop thinking about the screams of the men dying and all the bodies littering the ground. There had been an overwhelming odor he associated with freshly butchered hog, which he realized now was the blood of men. But the worst part of all was the emptiness of their soulless eyes. He didn't know if he could ever forget the eyes.

  By the time he returned to camp, he was relieved to see that all the dead bodies had already disappeared, presumably dragged into the forest. A few of the guards were nursing wounds. Strato had a gash in his arm that Yosef was carefully stitching shut with horsehair. Nita was sulking by the fire, and Andrev was arguing with Yosef.

  "What did I tell you? Your best weapon is your head. You did not think at all before you charged in there!" Yosef growled.

  "He did use his head—as a shield," Yasmina smirked. Yosef threw up his hands and stomped off.

  Chassy sat down beside Nita. "What happened?" he asked. "It was all over so fast. Last time I saw you, there was a mountain with a club standing in front of you."

  Nita glared at Andrev, who was walking toward them. "I was just about to bring down the ‘mountain,’ when someone shoved me aside!"

  "Don’t be ridiculous, Nita!" Andrev knelt beside them. He had a gash on his head as long as Chassy’s thumb. Blood was matting his hair. "That guy would have squashed you with one hand."

  "I don’t need you chasing around playing hero for me. I can take care of myself," Nita said.

  "I wouldn’t need to take care of you if you would take on someone your own size," Andrev argued.

  "He’s right, Nita," Chassy said.

  "What?" Nita looked like she was ready to hit him, so he backed up a step.

  "If that boy hadn’t attacked me, I would have been the one to shove you out of the way," he said. "You’re smaller than Andrev, and look what he did to Andrev."

  "Size has nothing to do with it," Nita started.

  "It does when you’re an amateur," Yosef said, sounding calmer. "None of you is good enough or fast enough to fight a monster that size. Now pack up. William says we’re to break camp."

  "But we’ve barely slept!" Andrev protested.

  "Can you sleep after that?" Yosef asked.

  Chassy had to admit that he, at least, could not.

  13: Sins of the Nydwon

  Another lackluster day passed, with very little talking but a lot of watching. William allowed them to skip weapons practice that night, and they turned in early, with Nita and Yasmina taking first guard. It was more boring than watching water boil, and creepier than any of their time in the Blackwood so far. She knew the horses should be snorting, chuffing and stamping, but not a sound came from the area where they were tied up. She should be hearing snores and sleep talking, but there was no sound from the fire.

  At first, she was on edge, but after a while she started yawning. Nita almost was dozing when she heard a rustling in the underbrush. She kicked the alarm.

  "To arms!" she shouted. "Attack!"

  Raggedly dressed men poured in, surrounding the camp like a hoard of angry ants. Once discovered, the brigands abandoned stealth in favor of speed. Knives flickering in the firelight made their movements seem all the faster. It was all Nita could do to block two blows from her opponent's short sword before Yasmina stepped up to dispatch her attacker.

  Once again, it was over in a matter of minutes, with half the brigands on the ground and the other half fleeing into the trees. William frowned.

  "Search the bodies," he ordered. "Remove their shirts. I want to see if they have any tattoos or brands to indicate their affiliation."

  Chassy and Andrev hung back and tried to look like they were having a serious conversation about the trees, but Nita knew them well enough to know they were just embarrassed. The rest of the guards stripped off shirts without formality, and Nita pitched in.

  "They aren't carrying anything, but the women have marks on their stomachs," Bruno said. With the end of his dagger he scraped the symbol into the bare earth: a lightning bolt with a broad curve on the end. "Looks something like this."

  "Death to the undeserving," William muttered.

  "What?" Bruno asked. The company gathered around them.

  "One of the four crimes of the Nydwon, 'Death to the Undeserving.'" William waved away their questions. "The others will probably be marked as well. I need to know whether it’s the same markings."

  Grumbling, Bruno and Dalshess hauled the bodies away from the camp and proceeded to strip and check them.

  Chassy plopped down by Nita, who was nursing a scrape on her forearm.

  "They weren’t very well-trained," she said, "otherwise he wouldn’t have missed so badly."

  "He hit you," Andrev pointed out.

  "He was aiming for my throat," Nita said. "This isn’t even close."

  "How do you know he was aiming for your throat?"

  Quick movement came from the side, the flash of a blade. Andrev had barely raised his bo when a sword crashed down on it. It glanced off the bo and tore down across his shoulder, leaving a clean slash in the fabric of his shirt without breaking the skin.

  "Hey—you almost—"

  "What was I aiming for?" Yosef interrupted.

  "For my head," Andrev said.

  "Wrong. If I were a brigand, I’d have been aiming for your head. I meant to tear a hole in your shirtsleeve and I did," Yosef said. "These murderers don't aim for the shoulder, they aim for the throat. Either he was poorly trained, or she parried well. Regardless, she’s right."

  Andrev turned and stalked off to sulk instead of apologizing. Nita felt only a small satisfaction at his humiliation.

  "What do you think William meant about that ‘death to the undeserved’ stuff?" Chassy asked Nita, pulling her aside.

  "I don’t know, but it’s pretty strange that we just met a Nydwon and now here’s a mark having to do with the Nydwon. These are creatures from legend," Nita said. "A lot of strange stuff has been happening. Chassy, I've been meaning to ask you—"

  Bruno's voice interrupted. "The men got them, too, all on the inner right thigh."

  "Asa’s curse!" William pounded the
end of the wagon with his fist.

  "What is it?" Nita asked. "What does it mean?"

  William threw up his hands in disgust. "The tattoos marked them as servants of a Nydwon, but she's a corrupted one from the look of it. There are only four crimes that can cause a Nydwon to be shunned by her own kind. One is giving death to the 'undeserving.' She may not kill an enemy for anger alone, but she may kill a friend out of compassion. This one kills for the wrong reasons. Those who serve Nydwon are magically marked until their bond is broken."

  "These Nydwon are strange folk, " Chassy said softly. Nita nudged him.

  "What do you know of the Nydwon?" William's eyes narrowed.

  "Nothing," Chassy said. "We were just talking about the stories of the Nydwon before we left for our journey."

  William didn't seem to believe him, but it was true at a very basic level. William didn't need to know that they had met a Nydwon or that she had spoken prophecies.

  "They were looking for something particular," William continued, staring hard at Chassy. His voice sounded cold, threatening. It hadn’t even sounded that menacing the first day they met. Chassy backed away. "They rummaged the wagon but didn’t even take the smallest valuables. What do you have that Nydwon would want? And how did you get it?"

  "Stop it!" Nita ordered suddenly, stepping in front of Chassy with her hands on her hips. Men and their silliness! "We don’t know anything about these thieves or their master. How dare you accuse us? We fought against them. We could have been killed, just like you!"

  William backed away, appearing slightly abashed, and the coldness melted from his eyes. Nita felt herself blushing at his reaction.

  "Perhaps so, but I have to be cautious. You would ask the same questions in my place."

  "Well, I wouldn’t accuse my own company of consorting with criminals!" Nita raised her chin, just enough to seem like she was looking down on William. Which, of course, she couldn't possibly do given their height difference. But her mother had always said, "A raised chin and a firm glare will bring any man down to size."

  "I apologize and humbly beg your forgiveness, in the witness of the company which I have demeaned by my rude behavior." William bowed slightly to Chassy and then to Nita. Nita wondered if he was mocking her.

  "He gives a gentleman’s apology." Yasmina raised an eyebrow.

  Whatever did that mean?

  "You're... forgiven," she said, puzzled by this little ceremony. "So, what does this mean? Why would these bandits work for a Nydwon? And what is a Nydwon doing here, in Ayzwind?"

  "I think it means that the recent attacks on travelers are part of an organized effort," William said. "An effort, not to loot and kill, but to find an item of great value to a Nydwon."

  14: Strange Times

  Chassy ducked away from hanging branches, straining his ears for any sound at all. He would have given anything to hear wild animals.

  "I’ve heard that undead men live in the blackest parts, men who live from the blood of small game," Strato said suddenly.

  Someone laughed, and Strato made a rude gesture with his hand. Chassy shivered.

  "I always thought undead men were just in stories," he said.

  "Oh, they're real enough. They are dead creatures that walk the earth as though they were living. They are the servants of Erise in the world of the living, though some among us require their own sort of proof to believe it," Strato said, nodding at Dalshess.

  "Yosef and I have both seen strange creatures in these woods," Yasmina said. "One time we ran into some goblins. They are short, hunched, and very pale as though they spend all their time in holes and caves. Their eyes are round as saucers, and they hunt only in packs at night. If you corner one alone, it will beg for its miserable life and tell you anything you want to know, but in packs they are fierce fighters. I know nothing of these undead men that Strato describes, but I can believe it to be true."

  Chassy moved a little closer to the wagon. He believed almost anything could come out of these woods.

  "I have also seen the goblins Yasmina describes," William added. "Erise created many such horrors before he was cast into the underworld. I cannot vouch for the blood eaters, but there may yet be creatures we have not encountered. Who is to say? In any case, Dalshess, any creature that can live in this wood is not to be laughed at."

  Chassy was thinking of his vision. "What do these blood creatures look like?"

  "According to my reading, and the drawings I’ve seen, they’re taller than regular men but thinner," Strato said. "They have long black hair which they wear loose, and they have long fangs that they used to puncture the neck of their prey, where the blood runs thickest. But some say you would never know them from regular men if it were not for their eyes."

  "What’s wrong with their eyes?" Nita asked.

  "They’re unnaturally white," Strato said.

  Chassy's head snapped up. Perfectly white eyes? His first vision returned to him, of the man in chainmail standing over Nita, with eyes so white the moons were a pale reflection by comparison.

  Then a red line stretched across the knight’s throat, and a look of horror replaced his grin, as he fell backward.

  But if this man in his vision was a blood eater, why would he be carrying a sword? And why would such a creature wear chainmail? Chassy shook his head to clear it.

  "How do we know they even exist? They seem to be more folktale than proven fact," Andrev challenged.

  William shrugged. "Because you have never seen a thing does not invalidate its existence. Take for instance, the wind. You cannot see the wind."

  "What about the gods?" Chassy tried to help. "You can’t see them either."

  "Are you mad, boy? Have you never been to the temple?" Strato laughed.

  "Those aren’t the gods," Chassy insisted. "Those are statues."

  "Chassy!" Nita’s shocked voice cut the sudden silence. "What are you saying?"

  The wagon and horses had stopped, and everyone was looking at him. Chassy looked around, suddenly realizing his mistake. These people had never seen a living god. How were they to understand?

  "I meant Tesha and Tivates and the others. No one sees them, and yet everyone believes in their existence," he amended.

  William was giving Chassy a strange look. Maybe he had also seen a living god. Maybe if Chassy ever started trusting William, he'd ask.

  "Those are the lesser gods. Everyone knows they live as humans among us. Why, you could see one every day and not even know it," Bruno said.

  "Besides, the gods leave evidence, too," Dalshess added, and other voices joined in agreement.

  The conversation trickled off, until the companions were engulfed in black silence again.

  It seemed they passed weeks that way, sleeping only briefly, always nearly overcome with exhaustion, taking only short breaks to rest the horses and change guard. Talk was becoming rare, cheerful talk even rarer.

  Chassy rode along in a fog, wondering whether he would even remember to defend himself if attacked. He saw Nita riding with her eyes half closed a few times. Now and then one of the walking guards would stumble, right himself, and looked around wildly, as if preparing to fight an invisible enemy. At some point, the wagon stopped, but the sound of horses' hooves continued in his head.

  "These are strange times," William announced.

  This was certainly a strange enough journey, but life in Waet was probably going on pretty much the same as always. Chassy missed the bland comfort of his own bed, the boring and exhausting work of the harvest. Not for the first time, he wished he could have a few minutes alone with Nita and Andrev. In the midst of all these people, he felt lonely not having anyone to talk with. He had considered telling William everything and seeking his assistance. The merchant’s group was certainly brave and skilled enough to find Lyear and get him to Death's End. But why would William and his crew want to help them? They had nothing to offer.

  Besides, Chassy reminded himself, they knew nothing of William, not even whet
her he was actually a merchant. Each time Chassy got up the nerve to ask a question, William ignored or rebuffed him. None of the guards were any better. Each of them, in his or her own way, was secretive and protective of William's privacy.

  Toad's voice broke into his thoughts. "You’re wondering what is so strange about the times." Chassy nodded. "You lived in a small town, yes? Well, perhaps you were insulated from these things, but you will soon see what he means. These events—attacks on travelers, strange tattoos, people disappearing—are not so unusual as we would like."

  Chassy had always thought the world outside of Waet would be a place of excitement, with new people to meet and things to learn. He had never imagined that he would have to travel armed, always fearful of strangers and unable to trust anyone.

  After making camp one more night, they rounded a curve in the road and came suddenly out into the sunlight. The long night had ended, and all had survived. They had reached the outlying farmland around Sunoa.

  Toad gave a whoop, Nita did a little dance with her arms outstretched, and Yasmina closed her eyes reverently. Nita took a deep breath of the warm morning air, which smelled distinctly of freedom and honesty. Cows mooed in a nearby pasture, and somewhere not too far away, young children giggled, squealed and shouted. Sounds and smells overwhelmed Chassy, as his senses struggled to adjust.

  On either side of the road stood last season's grass up to their shoulders, with new green shoots pushing up between the stalks. The road curved sharply ahead of them, making the surrounding fields nearly as confining as the Blackwood had been. Somehow, though, it felt welcoming, like being wrapped in his mother’s arms.

  That thought nearly set Chassy to tears. How long had he been in the wood? It certainly seemed like a lifetime. What was happening back home right now? The harvest would be in motion, the weavers spinning like mad.