Taerak's Void (Fantastica Book 1)

by M. R. Mathias

  Braxton hadn't thought about any of these things and found deep comfort and respect for Vinston-Fret's ability as a leader. Braxton helped where he could with the preparation and loading of supplies, but found he was more in the way than of use. Vinston-Fret, with Captain Pickerell's aide, efficiently commanded the elves and dwarves until everything was ready.

  In his boredom one day, Braxton wandered into a heated conversation between Nixy, Suclair, and her father.

  "He must be stopped, that we agree on," Debain conceded to Nixy. "But to torture or kill him?"

  "Absolutely. He tried to have Braxton killed." Nixy was angry. "He has a standing reward for Braxton's head and has slandered him as a thief all across the kingdom. Torture is too good for him."

  "I'm sure you're right, Nix," Suclair interjected, "but my father cannot determine Reaton-Stav's punishment. That will have to be determined by tribunal after he is charged and captured."

  Nixy put her arms across her chest with a huff. "What if you can't catch him?"

  Suclair shook her head and put her arm around Nixy's shoulder. "Between my father, the other Old Ones, and their three dozen students, they will find him in a matter of days. They will bind him magically and present him to the king's tribunal. That is not the problem my father faces."

  "Then what is the problem?" Nixy asked Debain, whose caterpillar-like eyebrows seemed to take on a life of their own the thinner his patience grew.

  "Undoing what that foul man has done. That is the problem," the old man yelled at no one in particular.

  Braxton almost felt sorry for him. His father had said a hundred times that trying to tell a woman something she doesn't want to hear is like talking to a tree, only a tree might occasion a reasonable reply. Braxton knew for sure Nixy was beyond reason in this matter.

  Tactfully, Debain changed the course of the conversation. "The two of you should be worried about the journey you are about to take, not some errant necromancer. Besides that, the goat-jousting is about to begin, and it sounds like something that we don't want to miss."

  Vinston-Fret announced that the loading of the ship was complete, and then ordered the long wooden dock be cleared for the dwarves’ competition.

  The four humans, Vinston-Fret, Pranthias, and Gruval Rockheart had the best view of the long, plank wood dock, which would serve as the jousting lane.

  Gruval joined them and was followed by Akavias, who carried a tray of goblets filled with the elven honey wine. After serving everyone, Akavias asked a question. "Many of our people are coming to witness this event. They have asked me to inquire about the rules and process so they may better understand this rare spectacle we are about to see. Will you explain?"

  "Yes, please do," Pranthias added.

  "Well," Second Prince Gruval started. "There are only four dwarves who are able to compete. The others were injured in earlier preliminary competitions held in the ship’s empty hold. There will be two jousts, and the winners of each will then joust each other for the honor of accompanying Prince Darblin on the quest for the Sapphire of Souls."

  "But the actual joust?" Braxton asked. "What are the rules? What are the dwarves going to do? How does one win?"

  Gruval scratched his head. "Each dwarf sits atop one of the goats. One dwarf will take his mount to the far end of the dock and the other dwarf will be at the near end. Each dwarf is armed with a barrel stave."

  "What is a barrel stave?" Suclair asked.

  "It is a flat board about as long as your leg and as wide as your hand," Braxton answered. Turning back to Gruval he grinned excitedly. "Please continue."

  "The competing dwarves will ride their goats toward each other, gaining speed until they meet, where upon they will try to whack the other off their mount and into the sea. The winner is the dwarf who doesn't fall in."

  "Blessed Arbor," Pranthias said as Akavias disappeared into the forest to go explain this all to the other spectators.

  "It's really quite fun!" Nixy chirped. "They did a lot of it on the ship on the way over."

  "Do they not wear armor, like the knights of old?" asked Suclair.

  Nixy answered knowledgably, "One of the jousters, they call him Big H, because his name is Hannival Hammer Head or something like that, told me no dwarf worth his salt needs any armor. He told me they were only fighting with wood, not steel."

  "He sounds intelligent," Debain said sarcastically.

  Thaelos stepped out of the woods to join them, his son Cryelos and the elf Sorrell were with him. "This should prove to be very interesting," Thaelos observed.

  "To say the least," Debain added.

  "You said that only four dwarves were able to compete because the rest were injured. How many are hurt?" This came from Pranthias.

  "Not counting the one that got kicked into a wall by Lord Braxton's horse, I think five," Darblin answered, looking at the bottom of his empty goblet.

  "Look, the first joust is about to begin." Nixy handed her goblet to Darblin and pointed cheerily. "It is Big H, but I don't recognize the other one."

  "It looks like Blunter. Yes, I think it is," Gruval confirmed. "He's pretty good."

  "I have five gold pieces on Big H," Nixy said, looking around for a taker.

  "You're on," Debain said, holding out five coins for inspection.

  "These aren't going to disappear or turn to iron later, are they?" Nixy asked suspiciously.

  Debain blushed and then harrumphed, and then pulled out five slightly different looking coins with a sheepish grin. "You're an observant one, aren't you?"

  "A girl can't be too careful these days," she said as she produced five gold coins of her own. "Anybody else?" Nixy asked around. "Last chance."

  "Arbor forgive me," Pranthias said. "You will have to trust me until later for my five coins, but I will take the wager."

  The dwarf called Big H was to their left, and Blunter to the right. About one hundred paces separated one from the other. Captain Pickerell was in a rowboat with several oarsmen ready to pluck the loser from the water in case he was knocked unconscious or couldn't swim. He looked to be getting in a few last-minute bets with the dwarf who was in the middle and about to start the event.

  The announcer called out something Braxton couldn't hear, but both contenders climbed onto their terrified looking goats and were handed their barrel staves.

  "Those poor goats," Suclair said, nervously dry washing her hands.

  "Being a dwarven jouster's mount is certainly better than being meat for an elven stew, dear." Debain unsuccessfully comforted his daughter.

  Silence fell across the island, and Braxton was sure he could see several sets of wide-opened yellow eyes in the tree line along the shore on the opposite side of the dock.

  "Are you ready, sir?" the announcer yelled out to Big H. Big H nodded he was.

  "Are you ready, Blunter?" he yelled to the other dwarf. When Blunter nodded he was, his goat lurched ahead and dumped him to the deck. After a few minutes of reorganizing, Blunter remounted and indicated he was finally ready.

  The announcer yelled, "Charge," then moved to the edge of the dock and huddled with his hands over his head.

  Blunter's terrified goat charged full speed down the dock. Its hooves clipped and clopped loudly as Blunter raised his barrel stave and prepared for battle. Big H's goat didn't take off running like the other one but, instead, prodded along casually, causing its rider to sway back and forth with his barrel stave held high.

  Clop, clop, clop Big H's goat went.

  Clippedy, clippedy, clippedy, Blunter's mount's hooves sounded as they approached each other. Just before they met, Big H's goat stopped, and Big H reared back, swinging his plank.

  Blunter looked to be having trouble keeping his balance. His goat was speeding down the dock, but he raised his staff to swing. Big H's blow caught him full in the chest with a resounding crack. The terrified goat ran right out from under Blunter, bleating madly, and didn't stop.

  From their vantage point, it looked as if B
lunter had been yanked backwards off his mount by a rope. His goat ran straight off the end of the dock, churning its legs as if it was running through the air. It flew a good fifteen feet before splashing into the sea. Blunter ended up flat on his back and motionless.

  Captain Pickerell could be heard cursing furiously. Apparently, he had lost his wager, but he still ordered the oarsmen to row out and try to save the goat before it drowned. The announcer walked over and raised Big H's arm and a small cheer rang out. Oddly, when the goat was hauled into the rowboat, a larger cheer sounded from the edge of the forest where the elves watched.

  Braxton wondered why no one seemed to care that Blunter hadn't moved yet. Everyone was betting furiously now as he was dragged off the dock by his feet so the next two contenders could get into position.

  The second joust was brutal. The contenders knocked each other from their goats on the initial charge, and then stood a few paces apart, trading blow after crunching blow. This went on for quite a while until finally one of the bloody dwarves was knocked from the dock into the water. By the time the announcer reached the winner to raise his hand, he'd fallen into a bloody heap.

  A long discussion followed, and there were a few heated arguments among the dwarves. But then it was finally announced that Big H would be the winner by default because the winner of the other joust couldn't continue.

  "I won thirty pieces of gold," Nixy told Braxton, who was still in shock after watching the two stubborn dwarves pound the sense out of each other for so long. He smiled to acknowledge he had heard her, and then followed her and the elves to the feasting table. It wasn't yet dark, but sunset was approaching quickly. The elves were celebrating again to honor the departure of their brave kindred. Braxton, like Suclair, felt so sorry for the jousting goats he wasn't sure he would be able to eat any meat, but he wanted to discuss some things with Thaelos before he left, and the feast was no doubt where he would be found.

  Braxton was surprised to see so many elves crowded around the feasting table. He had known they were all there on the island somewhere, but hadn't yet seen more than a dozen. There looked to be a few hundred of them. Only four dwarves were in attendance, for only four dwarves remain uninjured. Braxton was formally introduced to Hannival Harmon Hammerhead, the champion of the joust, and his goat, who had been named Prism II, in honor of Braxton's dwarf-kicking horse. The only thing more insane than all this goat jousting nonsense was the fact someone had gone and painted a white triangle on the goat's forehead just like the triangle on his horse's.

  Braxton thought it was just silly he was introduced to Big H as if the man was one of the legendary dragon slayers from the Old World or some great battle hero. It wasn't long before he had to excuse himself from the company of the dwarves because it was just too much for him to handle.

  Braxton found Debain and Suclair and politely pulled Debain to the side, leaving Nixy to chat with Suclair.

  "I wanted to ask you about some maps I have," Braxton said. "Master Bee, I mean Master Beatrice, said you might be able to help me figure out what they are of."

  "Ahh, Master Bee.” Debain sighed. "She is quite…quite—"

  "Taxing," Braxton blurted out.

  "Exactly.” Debain smiled knowingly.

  "She also told me that some of the elves who made the original journey from the Old World might still be alive, is this true?"

  "It is." Debain said. "Come, I will introduce you."

  As they spoke of the maps, Braxton was led to a fairly isolated spot at the edge of the clearing where an elven woman stood. She was unlike any of the others he had met. This woman actually showed signs of aging. She had wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and drooping cheeks. Her skin was slightly ashen, and when she smiled at him, he caught a depth in her jaundiced orbs unlike any he had ever seen before.

  Debain introduced her as Zuniper-Starlos, the eldest of the elves.

  "I would like to thank you, Lord Braxton," she said in a soft, musical voice that could have been a child's. "This quest has restored hope to the dying spirit of my people. Not to mention what Thaelos told me you did for the dragon."

  Braxton blushed deeply. He didn't know what to say in response. Thank you just didn't seem appropriate, for he hadn't actually done anything for the elves, and they had nothing to do with why he did what he did for the dragon. Instead of speaking, he nodded his head in acknowledgment of the compliment and tried desperately not to drown in the liquid depths of her pale eyes.

  "Lord Braxton has come across some maps that are not of this land," Debain said to her.

  Her curiosity was immediately piqued. "Tell me of them."

  "if we can go somewhere more private Lady Zuniper, I can show them to you."

  "Lord Braxton, please call me Zuniper. The term lady is so, so human."

  Debain shuffled his stooped body impatiently.

  "You have the maps with you?" Zuniper asked.

  Braxton nodded and noticed Debain's eyes sparkle with curiosity.

  "Then follow me, and we will go somewhere more private to have a look."

  Chapter Twenty Two

  As the Isle of Jolin slowly faded in the distance, Braxton found it hard to be disappointed that his maps had been meaningless to Zuniper and Debain. Neither recognized the strange text written on them, nor did they have a clue of what they might be of. The rush of excitement that coursed through his veins as he stood at the ship's rail in the early morning sun, washed away the few negative feelings he had about them and the journey ahead. He felt fresh and hopeful.

  "It's very wide open, isn't it?" Vinston-Fret asked from behind him.

  "Yes, it is.” Braxton smiled, trying not to let his unease over the way the sun caught the elf's yellow eyes show. "Captain Pickerell said the plans have changed?" Braxton asked.

  "Yes.” Vinston-Fret took the rail beside him. "We can save three days by going to Ardis to replenish our supplies instead of Halden. From there, we can sail nonstop to New Scarlee. Debain will meet us at Ardis to take your horses and give his daughter some things she may need. Lady Nixalia said this new route may avoid some other complications but did not elaborate."

  "How will he get to Ardis before us?" Braxton asked curiously.

  "How did he get to Jolin?" Vinston-Fret smiled. "He is an old and powerful man, and he knows many means of magical transportation, though I couldn't begin to describe, much less understand any of them. So, to answer your question truthfully, I have no idea how he will be there before us, but I have no doubt he will." The elf looked out at the rolling blue sea, then added, "He is probably already at the Sorcerious in Halden, as we speak."

  Braxton thought silently about this for a while. He had forgotten Debain and Suclair arrived on the Isle of Jolin without a ship. He decided he would ask Suclair about it later and let it go for now.

  "Vinston-Fret —" Braxton started, but the elf cut him off.

  "Please, just Vin," said the elf. "There is no need for formalities anymore."

  "You're right," Braxton agreed. "From now on, call me Braxton, or Brax. And I think Lady Nixalia would rather be called just plain Nixy."

  "Just plain Nixy?" She said from behind them. "Do you find me just plain, Lord Braxton."

  "No, no, no," he stammered and felt his face flush. He raised his hands palms out in supplication. "We are getting rid of the formalities. No more Lord Braxton and Lady Nixalia, just Braxton and Nixy and Vin." He pointed at the elf and was relieved to see by the smile on her face that she was only teasing him.

  "Well, that's much easier then." She grinned and slid close to him.

  "You were about to ask something," Vinston-Fret said.

  "Oh yeah,” Braxton had been about to ask if the elf thought they even had a chance of surviving the notoriously brutal Wilderkind forest, but since Nixy had arrived, he rephrased the question. "Do you think we will find the Sapphire of Souls? I mean, it could be anywhere."

  "I cannot give up hope that we will.” The elf sighed. "If there wasn't hope
then there would be no need for this journey, so my answer has to be yes. I think we will find it. Though I do not think it will be easy. The creature who swallowed it could very well be long dead. I'm hoping, that like most forest dwellers, it was a territorial beast, and a systematic search of the area will reveal its location to us. Otherwise, we will have to search blindly and pray for Arbor's guidance."

  "The Sapphire is an item full of powerful magic," Suclair said as she joined them. "It will radiate an aura I will be able to detect if we can get close enough to it."

  "How close do you have to be?" The elf asked.

  "I'm not sure," Suclair answered and scratched her bald head with a look of troubled thought on her face. "I could sense where Braxton was by his medallion, at least in general, the whole time we were on the island. All save for the night he went and healed the dragon's wound. On that night, it was as if he disappeared for a while, and then suddenly came back." She looked at Braxton and Nixy in turn. "My father said that the Sapphire of Souls is far more powerful than the medallion, so it should be easier to detect."

  "That night," Braxton started curiously. "The night I dreamed I healed the dragon. You say you felt me disappear?"

  "Dream or no, Brax,” Suclair put a hand on his shoulder, "Thaelos saw the dragon's wounds were closed with his own eyes, as did you. You did heal it. And yes, I felt you, or more accurately, the magic of the jewel in your amulet, leave the range of my detection for quite some time."