Chapter 1
The Highwaymen
From the next day onwards the company's mood was greatly improved with Kaell's face washed clean. Shala in turn had gotten away from their scuffle with Von Gillivez with some swelling to her face that was already subsiding to a degree where it was barely noticeable. He had said nothing, but Shala saw in Bhask a relieved and happy Master, whistling slow tunes as he rode, not caring that his big old steed had a habit of veering from the road and grazing amounts of grass that would shame a cow. For the time being they rode but slowly, having given the road a good pounding in the morning hours. Shala had been greatly worried that Kaell's painted mask of vengeance would be a commitment that had them part ways, and worse for her, she so feared never seeing him again. When he allowed her to remove the mask by the river stream her spirits were lifted considerably; she had not seen herself making it all the way to the Crimson City without him.
That was not to say things had turned dull for them. As much as Shala enjoyed Jingles's disciplined manner, Warrock turned out to be a different animal entirely, Kaell's hope of choosing a fiery horse having undesired consequences. Warrock was prone to what Shala of thought as mood swings and seemed to detest bearing a rider for too long. With jerks of its head it reached back and took bites at Kaell's kneecaps.
‘I can't ride like this, I'll walk the beast for a while,’ announced Kaell grumpily, getting off and leading the horse by the reins.
Yet this didn't seem to appease Warrock either.
As Kaell led the horse, Warrock kept biting Kaell in the small of his back, pinching a part of flesh and then quickly pulling its head back and blowing through the lips, as though it didn't approve of the taste. ‘You blasted mule!’ he shouted in pain, turning and striking the animal with a back hand. The horse simply shook its head in annoyance at the half-hearted blow, and again Warrock nipped at Kaell’s sleeveless shoulder, pinching the skin so hard it turned red and would later be blue.
Kaell yelped and Shala laughed. Kaell, in anger, turned again and wrapped his arms around the horse’s face and neck, and with a sideward's jerk and swinging his hips he threw the entire stallion to the ground, the great horse pulled helplessly into the direction of its head.
‘Take that! As much as you deserve! I should be done with you!’ shouted Kaell at the downed horse.
But the fiery Warrock stood up in a flash and charged, bowling Kaell completely off his feet and onto his back. Warrock didn’t stop and fled into the woods, whinnying and whickering sporadically like a taunting laughter of some kind.
Kaell sprang to his feet, grass and leaves stuck to his hair. ‘Hai!’ Where are you going!?’ he shouted after the horse, and set in a chase, disappearing from sight in the pursuit, their sounds quickly growing faint to leave Shala and Bhask in silence.
‘I’ve never seen anyone throw a horse down like that,’ said Shala.
‘It’s all technique Highness, and besides young Wolves are often put against wild animals bare-handed.’
Shala was no longer laughing. ‘Isn’t that cruel?’ she asked in shock.
‘Highness,’ said Bhask laughingly, ‘that was sometimes the least of what the boys had to endure. The young Wolves are made hard in fashions not seen anywhere else in the world. They are subjected to cold and hunger, and they wrestle each other to build strength in every muscle. They fight wild animals and fight each other until their knuckles are bared to the bone. With the old Masters on their heels with whips in hand they are set running until they vomit or cry or beg for it to stop. They are lashed with thin bamboo to instil discipline and are taught mantras until they mutter them in their sleep. That is how Wolves are made, nothing less suffices.’
‘You say it as if you were never exposed to it yourself. Or were you simply one of the Masters chasing them with whips?’
Bhask chuckled, ‘I was both my Lady, but after spending many years to make young lads animals they become fine men later on. Kaell may not be matured, but he’ll become worthy I’m sure. I have known people to look down on our way of training, but if applied correctly the best of the man is revealed. They know pain, so they want to spare others the same fate, they fight things bigger than they are and so are opposed to bullies and tyrants, and lastly they know looking out for another is saving one’s own life. It is all principals of the pack, and we are better for it.’
‘So you are a fine man then, self-anointed as it is?’ asked Shala in amusement.
Bhask laughed. ‘Hardly, Your Highness. I simply meant that many of the great men I knew in my life were all Wolves. Not that I’d come to suggest the upbringing isn’t harsh. Why, if we gave such a life to every newborn we would sit with nothing but soldiers, and all the craftsmen and artists and philosophers might be lost.’
Right then Kaell emerged again riding atop Warrock, looking haggard, and it took Shala a moment to notice the spatter of blood on his clothes. Metrus the eagle also appeared above the tree-line and with him landing to become a man again Shala's heart hammered. Something is wrong, and Metrus had seen it from on high.
‘Pack of goblin scum. Stupid horse ran right past them and I was left hunting them before they could hunt it. Although when I slowed them down and he turned around Warrock gave them a taste of hooves they won't forget even in death,’ he said proudly.
‘You're alright?’ asked Shala, already holding her urn on her lap.
‘Yes Highness, I'm fine. It's not my blood,’ said Kaell, his excited voice cooling down.
‘We have a greater problem however,’ said Metrus, ‘that group of goblins weren't waiting in the area; they were being chased by Highwaymen. They have the area tightly secure. We might need to consider another route.’
‘You'll have us trek all the way around to Nortalon?’ suggested Kaell.
‘No, we'll just stay off the main road mostly and try to avoid them as long as possible,’ said Bhask.
‘And if they corner us?’ asked Metrus.
‘We'll play it safe and not initiate hostilities. Also, keep all valuables out of sight as best possible. These men are notoriously greedy and more importantly, they must not know we escort Her Highness!’ urged Bhask
Dream of Embers Book 1 Page 34
