“Why tell you?”
She shrugged. “This old man had a grudge against the enchanters. Something about an exile. He thought I possessed the skills to steal it, figuring it would drive them crazy to know it was out in the wild and the wizards might discover its existence.”
She paused. “Enough about me. Tell me why you are after it.”
The man sighed. “Fine. I accepted a contract to steal the amulet, but you beat me to it. I later agreed to retrieve it and follow the entire job through, although it’s crazy.”
“What job? Why Fastella?”
“I am to kill a man. A wizard.”
All was silent, save for the man’s breath in Rawk’s ear.
Rhoa replied, “Which wizard?”
“I am to kill Lord Taladain, the ruler of Ghealdor,” he said before adding, “I told you it was crazy.”
Rhoa stepped out of the trees. “We should talk, but let’s move farther away first so we aren’t captured. You can free him. Don’t worry. I won’t run.”
21
Journey
With the moon hidden by the clouds, the gravel road appeared as a faint, pale ribbon in the darkness. Rhoa and the mysterious man followed Rawk, who led them in a relaxed manner and behaved as if it were mid-day. She had previously noted Rawk’s ability to see in the dark, and the stone-shaper navigated the night with ease.
The fields to the east ended at a railed fence. Inside the fence were rows of dark, shadowy trees.
“Apples,” Rawk said.
“Where?” Rhoa asked.
He pointed toward the fenced area. “There. Those trees are covered in apples.”
“Wonderful,” the other man said. “I’m starving.”
“Lead us into the orchard, Rawk,” Rhoa said. “We can stop there for a bit.”
They ducked through the fence rails and followed Rawk into the shadows, Rhoa walking with arms extended before her, hoping to avoid running into something. A couple rows in, Rawk stopped, and Rhoa collided with him, barely able to see his silhouette. The branch above her shook, the leaves rustling as the other man tore an apple away and took a bite. The crunch in the silent orchard was like a crash of thunder.
Rhoa frowned at him, but it was unlikely he could see the expression. “Isn’t that a bit noisy?”
“I told you, I’m hungry.” His words were garbled by the food in his mouth. He swallowed audibly. “Besides, we will hear anyone approaching before they hear my chewing. Since we are alone and far from prying ears, it’s time to talk.”
Concern for the troupe members was Rhoa’s first worry. “Who are those soldiers at the troupe camp? You seem to know of them.”
“The Midnight Guard,” the man replied. “They work for Lord Malvorian. Despaldi, the man who was doing the talking, is their leader.” He took another bite.
“Is the troupe in danger?”
“Hmm.” He swallowed. “Difficult to say. If they comply, Despaldi is likely to leave them alone. However, he is looking for you and the amulet. When he discovers you have disappeared, he will continue searching. The man is known for his persistence.”
Rhoa considered the situation, attempting to reason through it. “Malvorian rules Farrowen. This is Ghealdan land. Isn’t he worried about upsetting Lord Taladain? A foreign armed force harassing citizens inside his borders seems like an act of aggression.”
The man chuckled. “You don’t know Despaldi. He might work for the ruler of a nation, but he isn’t known to be a rule follower. If he is committed to a task, he will do anything to see it through, regardless of the repercussions.”
Her lips pressed together, realizing she couldn’t go back to the menagerie, not without risking her plans or bringing more trouble to the troupe.
“Enough of Despaldi for now,” the man said, tossing the apple aside. “Let’s talk about the necklace.”
Rhoa wondered why Rawk had followed her and feared how he might react. She hadn’t told him anything about her plans. She hadn’t told anyone.
“First, introductions. My name is Rhoa. You already know I am a member of Stanlin’s troupe.” She put her hand on Rawk’s thick shoulder. “This is my friend, Rawk.”
“Rawk,” the man replied. “Interesting name.”
“And you are?”
“I have many names. You might know me as Jerrell Landish.”
She shrugged. “Sorry. Never heard of you.”
“Really? Are you sure?” The surprise was evident in his voice.
“Pretty sure.”
“Fine. You can call me Jace.” He sounded disappointed. “Since we are all acquainted, explain why you stole the amulet.”
A sigh slipped out when she realized she had to reveal her secret – a secret she had held close for years. “I plan to kill Lord Taladain.”
“You? How is a little thing like you going to kill the most dominant wizard in Ghealdor?”
“The amulet will protect me.”
“I am aware of the enchantment tied to the amulet. It might protect you from magic, but Taladain lives in a stronghold filled with hundreds of loyal guards. The amulet’s magic won’t save you from an arrow or blade.”
Rhoa grit her teeth, her frustration rising. “I’ll find a way,” she said, determined.
He laughed. “Great plan.”
“I was able to steal the necklace, wasn’t I?”
“True. However, you got to it only minutes before I would have.”
“Wait.” Rhoa thought back to the tower. “You were the man dressed as a woman?”
“My plan would have worked if you weren’t there.”
“Perhaps it proves I am more capable than you.”
Jace snorted. “Please. You got lucky. What else have you stolen? Have you ever even killed a person?”
Rhoa had no response, but she was determined. “I will see Taladain dead.”
The orchard fell silent. Rhoa sensed Rawk staring at her. She turned away and wondered what he thought of her now. Will this destroy our friendship? Why is he here anyway? She couldn’t ask him to risk his life for her own selfish plans. The mere thought of him dying because of her sparked a pang of guilt.
“Rawk…,” she said past a lump in her throat. “What I am planning is dangerous. You should go back to the troupe. They are good people, and you can have a good life with them.”
Heavy, tense silence followed her request. She desperately wanted him to remain at her side. It was a selfish desire, but she feared the path she had chosen and didn’t wish to walk it alone.
“You may be right, Rhoa,” Rawk said. “Life with the troupe would likely be a good one, but it is not the life I would choose.”
She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Swallowing, she tried again. “What life would you choose?” The words came out as a whisper.
“I cannot say. There is much I am still learning about the outside world. What I do know is the value of friendship – a rare thing to touch my life. You are my only friend. You gave of yourself when I needed help. I would do the same for you. If you will have me, I prefer to remain at your side.”
Guilt-tainted relief ran through Rhoa. “What about my plan? Would you be part of an assassination?”
“I cannot say, because I know nothing of this man,” Rawk said in an even tone. “But I do know you are a good person, Rhoa. If you wish this man dead, I suspect there is just cause.”
Jace cleared his throat. “While this is quite touching, we still haven’t resolved the matter of the amulet.”
Rhoa turned toward him. “You said you wanted the amulet because you planned to kill Taladain.”
“I said I was hired to kill him.”
“Doesn’t matter. Only results matter.”
“Of that, we can agree.”
“So we have the same end goal in mind. I have skills that might be of use to you, and I suspect you have experience that would be beneficial to me. I suggest we work together to increase our chances of success.”
Jace crossed his
arms. “Should we succeed, you aren’t getting a cut from what I am owed.”
“I don’t want your coin. I just want to see Lord Taladain’s rule end.”
The orchard fell silent again, and a beam of moonlight filtered down through a gap in the trees as the clouds parted.
Finally, Jace nodded. “All right. It’s not often I work with others, but I have done it before. Perhaps we can make it work. However, if you end up dead, it’ll not weigh on my conscience.”
“Fine,” Rhoa said as she turned and walked toward the road.
Rawk and Jace followed, all three ducking through the fence and stepping onto the gravel.
“I have a horse waiting back in Starmuth,” Jace said.
Rhoa turned toward him. “It’s not safe for me to go back. You said it yourself.”
“I know.” He looked back toward the city. “I also don’t trust you enough to leave you and go back for it. You might run off without me.”
“So we walk.” Rhoa turned north, while the other two hurried to catch her.
“How far is it to Fastella?” Rawk asked.
“Far,” Rhoa replied.
“On foot, yes,” Jace added. “There is a village about thirty miles north of here. Perhaps we can find a ride there.”
“Do you have any coin?”
“Some,” Jace said.
“Good. Because I don’t have a copper on me,” she replied.
“How do you expect we are to pay for a ride or even for a room at an inn?”
She stopped and turned toward Jace. “Aren’t you a thief?”
“I prefer to think of myself as an entrepreneur.”
Rhoa snorted. “Fancy term for someone who steals stuff.”
“So, you want me to spend my hard-earned coin on you and rock-head here?”
“How is your coin hard-earned if you stole it?”
“I don’t just steal, you know. I have been known to accept a variety of contracts. Besides, I also earn coin from gambling.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my. Your job is such back-breaking work. You must be so proud,” she said sarcastically.
“Hey, I do have feelings, you know,” Jace replied in a pained voice.
Rhoa smiled. She had discovered a weakness.
They walked for two hours before stopping to rest beneath a copse of trees not far from the road. Rhoa’s attempt to sleep came in short, fitful stretches, her dreams troubled, her body uncomfortable. She grew cold and did her best to cover herself. Her coat helped, but she longed for a cloak. Jace seemed to sleep fine, and she suspected his cloak added enough comfort to make a difference. As usual, Rawk was quiet and sat still. Rhoa wondered if he ever slept.
They rose with the sun and resumed their journey. A few wagons rode past them that morning, as did a cluster of Ghealdan soldiers, identifiable by the dog-shaped helmets and purple capes attached to their armor. The wagon drivers paid the trio of travelers little heed, but the soldiers eyed them warily. Rhoa wondered if anyone else knew of the necklace. Am I now a known criminal? The worry of Despaldi’s pursuit already hung over her like a shadow. She was also concerned for the welfare of the troupe. If any had been injured or died because of her…
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. After Taladain was dead, none of the rest would matter. She didn’t expect to survive anyway.
As the day reached mid-morning, the sunlight darkened, despite the clear sky. Through the cloth over his face, Rawk gazed up and to the east.
“What is happening to the sun?” Rawk croaked, worry in his voice.
She turned to the eastern sky. It was clear for the first time in days. The moon blocked a portion of the sun, a partial eclipse signaling the impending Darkening.
“It’s an eclipse, Rawk.”
“What does it mean?”
Jace twisted his face as if Rawk were daft. “This happens twice a year. Why are you acting so odd about it? Were you raised underground or something?”
Rhoa gasped and looked at Jace before she realized he was teasing Rawk. “Leave him alone.” She then turned to Rawk. “It’s the Darkening. The moon will briefly block a portion of the sun every day for the next week until it reaches a full eclipse. After that, it will recede until the sun and moon no longer cross paths.”
Rawk appeared to consider the information until Jace interrupted.
“Why do you have that thing covering your face anyway?”
Irritated, Rhoa turned toward Jace. “Can’t you just leave him alone?”
He held his hands up in front of him. “Easy. It was a harmless question. Besides, we need to avoid attracting attention.” He pointed at Rawk. “Having this one wandering around with a rag over his face makes us difficult to forget.”
A retort stopped just short of bursting out. She looked at Rawk, realizing the thief made a fair point. She considered the situation and turned back to Jace. “Give him your cloak.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it has a hood. With it, he can shield his eyes from the sun and won’t need the cloth.”
Jace scowled at her before removing his black cloak and shoving it into Rawk’s chest. He then turned and stomped down the road. Rhoa grinned at his annoyance. It was petty, she knew, but she enjoyed seeing him humbled. Rawk slipped the cloak on, pulled the hood up, and removed the cloth from his face before resuming the journey.
As the day wore on, Rhoa’s hunger grew worse. A rumberry tree and a field full of ripe carrots provided some sustenance, enough to keep her and the others going. With only Jace having a waterskin, they had to share, and when the liquid ran out, she began to lag, her body longing for food and water. Her feet grew heavier and heavier until they came upon the village of Fortran’s Crossing beside a small creek. By then, the sun had started sinking below the horizon.
The trio stumbled into town, hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. It was a small village, consisting of no more than twenty buildings. At the heart of it all was Fortran’s Inn, a two-story building with a wooden exterior, the boards gray and weathered. Jace stepped onto the front porch and held the door open, bowing to Rhoa with a smile. She walked past, ignoring him, stopping just inside the entrance to survey the interior. The scent of roasting beef captured her attention.
The dining room was dark, the only light coming from lanterns hanging from the posts along the middle of the room and the waning light of dusk through the windows at the front. Half the tables were occupied, and many of the guests faced the corner. Sitting there, beneath another lantern, was a familiar face – a face Rhoa had not seen in a decade.
The old man was dressed as she remembered, his brown robe full of patches and stains, his beard gray and resting upon his chest. He lightly strummed a lute while telling a story Rhoa had heard long ago. The man looked up. His gray eyes locked on her in surprise, his story stopping in mid-sentence. She approached to stand only a step away while resisting the urge to reach out and touch him just to see if he were real.
“Rhoa,” the man said.
“Salvon,” Rhoa muttered in shock. “You’re alive.”
22
Twist of Fate
Ten Years Ago
Nine-year-old Rhoa sat on a chair her father had crafted. The man had built every item in the shop. In fact, there wasn’t a piece of furniture in the upstairs apartment that had not been lovingly fabricated by his hands. She read aloud as her mother listened. Reading was among her chores, something none of her friends were forced to do. Rhoa had resisted and complained at first, but after a year and a half, she began to secretly enjoy the stories. They reminded her of the tales Salvon told – tales of magic, wonder, and adventure from another era. Some of those tales were even written in Hassakani, the language of her ancestors. Rhoa had been taught to read both languages and could speak each fluently.
Her mother sat nearby, leaning over a desk while recording numbers in a ledger. She was good with figures and calculations, another thing Rhoa had been forced to learn.
“Knowing num
bers is important, Rhoa,” her mother often told her. “If you can’t count coins, you will find yourself cheated by those with an education. We aren’t wizards, so you can’t attend the University, but I can teach you what I know, just as your grandmother taught me all those years ago.”
Like the reading, figuring numbers was a challenge that grew easier with time. To the annoyance of her friends, Rhoa could now add and subtract most things in her head. She would turn ten in the next year, then she could begin an apprenticeship. Her mother hoped Rhoa would consider learning from her so she could help her future husband run a successful business. Rhoa’s father hoped she would turn to carpentry so she could work with him and take over his business someday. All she wanted to do was go out and play with her friends.
That very thought lingered in the back of her head as she finished reading a short story about a girl who had befriended a dragon. The idea of a giant, flying lizard excited Rhoa and filled her with a sense of wonder. The end of the story, however, left her more than a bit unsettled. She closed the book and turned toward her mother.
“All finished.”
“What did you learn?”
Rhoa considered the story. “Well, the dragon told the girl she could trust it, but then it ate her anyway. That wasn’t nice at all.”
“What did she know about dragons?”
“They eat people.”
“And what happened?”
“She got eaten.”
“Think, Rhoa. What does it tell you?”
Thinking about it, Rhoa said, “The girl knew the dragon’s nature, yet forgot to remain careful. The dragon did what dragon’s do and ate her. Even though the dragon was friendly, she should have been more cautious.”
“Very good, Rhoa. The same goes for humans. If you know someone is untrustworthy, you had better prepare yourself for them to betray your trust. You do that, and you won’t be hurt.”
Rhoa nodded, set the book aside, and slid off the chair. “Can I go out and play now?”
Wizardoms- Eye of Obscurance Page 16
