by I K Spencer
After a while, remembering what had caused the ordeal in the first place, the exhausted guardsman forced himself to his feet. He warily made his way back to his camp. It didn’t seem likely the creature would be about in broad daylight but, after the terror of the previous night, it took no effort to be cautious. He waited for a long time hidden at the edge of the site, looking for any sign of trouble. The camp seemed undisturbed although Lance was nowhere in sight. Finally satisfied, he strode into the clearing.
His first mission was to find his horse. He wasn't overly concerned that the beast had taken Lance, seeing no signs of an attack. He started a circular search, increasing the distance from the camp with each revolution. The inspection turned up all his snatched weapons and finally uncovered his horse, peacefully foraging in a small meadow less than a half-mile from the camp.
Garrick saw to his cuts and scrapes, then quickly packed up his gear. He led Lance back to the opening; he wanted to complete one more task before he could be rid of this place. Locating a good-sized stone nearby, he secured a rope to it, then tied the other end to his saddle. The powerful horse easily pulled the rock loose and dragged it back to the hole. With a satisfying thud the stone lodged securely into the opening. He knew the hole had probably initially saved his life but had also very nearly killed him in the end.
The guardsman mounted and galloped back to the road and turned east again. The sun was already high in the sky and he would have to hurry to reach Gates in time to meet the apprentice at midnight. He was also eager to get out of the area as soon as possible. Suddenly the thought occurred to him that Anthen could have encountered the beast and he urged Lance to quicken the pace.
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Anthen arrived in Gates late that same afternoon. The warm sun felt especially pleasant after the last few days of cold and wet weather and he rode most of the day with damp garments hanging over Rorc's back to dry. He was eager for both a bath and a bed with a roof over his head. It would also be good to see other people. The young guardsman enjoyed his privacy but longed to see and hear other human beings after being isolated much of the time since leaving Verilia. He even looked forward to meeting Garrick that night.
The land had flattened more and more throughout the day and he had seen Gates far off in the distance as he approached, long before entering the edge of town. Trees became sparser throughout the day’s journey and the frontier town occupied the basin of a sizable, shallow valley. Besides the township, large ranches and farms dotted the broad valley, dominated by open grasslands. Anthen was not accustomed to terrain with so few trees and marveled at the distance he could see, guessing it would take two full days to cross to the hazy rise on the far side. Narrow, winding bands of small trees showed the path of the area's waterways.
Gates seemed larger than he had imagined but had the same wild, untamed feeling as Dolonhold; he was surprised to find the main street cobbled. The border town, he knew, existed as a central trade depot for the hardy folk settled east of the mountains. This province, largely self-sustaining, provided very little of value to the rest of Isaencarl on the other side of the mountains; thus, pretty much all trade was local. Any local who produced anything—metals, furs, crops, crafts, or clothing—came to Gates to sell or trade it.
He found a suitable inn and, after stabling Rorc and finishing his exercise regimen, enjoyed a hot bath. It was still well before dark when the apprentice, clean-shaven and feeling clean for the first time in several days, walked out of the inn to survey the area. He walked around the busy town for an hour until sunset, then picked a busy tavern for dinner. He dined on fresh pork before moving to the bar to nurse an ale and listen to the locals.
After finishing a second ale, Anthen’s special proximity sense suddenly kicked in. He began stealing subtle glances around the crowded room and eventually identified the source of his unease—a man with short, fair hair seated alone at a table at the far end of the room. As Anthen watched him peripherally, a pale, narrow face glanced up from his mug every few seconds for a quick glimpse. After memorizing the stranger’s clothing, an easy task because the man was clad entirely in black, the guardsman drained his warm ale and walked purposefully toward the door. He could feel the man’s eyes follow him but the man did not rise to follow.
Anthen did not hesitate as he stepped from the smoky barroom to the dark street. He turned and headed toward the main market at the center of town. After a less than a block Anthen sensed the man again, no doubt following him. Arriving at the bazaar a short time later, he entered the thriving marketplace, still crowded well after sunset, and wandered from area to area, browsing the goods and attempting to keep track of his pursuer. The busy market was the perfect place to lose the stranger and he still had plenty of time before his planned meeting with Garrick.
Anthen had a second reason for visiting the bazaar. It was tradition for a guardsman apprentice to present his new master with a gift so his browsing was not solely for the benefit of his studying his pursuer. He completed his secondary mission first when he spied a jeweled dagger that seemed fitting. As he paid for the handsome blade, elven-made according to the eager merchant, Anthen considered the irony of buying a deadly weapon that might be turned against him in the near future.
About an hour before midnight the crowds were beginning to thin so he decided he'd better find a way to throw off the man in black. He searched the surrounding vendors and when his gaze fell upon a fabric dealer's stand, he smiled. He walked over to the voluble dealer, surrounded on all sides by a square of tables heaped with hundreds of squares and rolls of fabric. Anthen pretended to search through the fabrics until he caught side of the black-clad figure at an adjacent stall, then he moved slowly to the next dealer in the opposite direction, where he paused again. When his pursuer moved to the fabric dealer, the guardsman hurried back to the fabric stand as though he had changed his mind, maneuvering his pursuer so they were on opposite sides of the fabric-heaped tables. He pretended to inspect the fabric while waiting for an opportunity.
As Anthen hoped, the other man chose not to move farther away and after a few minutes, the right moment came. The man's attention was diverted momentarily as the vendor tried to engage him and the guardsman knelt as if inspecting his boot. After a quick glance to make sure he was not being watched, he rolled beneath the table, where hanging cloths draped across the table hid him completely from view.
Anthen remained quiet and listened as the man in black abruptly disengaged himself from the merchant. Moments later he recognized the stranger's black boots just beyond the fabric curtain where he’d stood moments ago, shifting nervously back and forth. The feet then disappeared for a few minutes but Anthen did not stir, knowing the man would be back. Besides the hiding place was warm and cozy and the fabrics gave off a pleasant, homey aroma. Less than a minute later Anthen heard the man angrily ask the textile merchant if he had seen anything. Apparently dissatisfied with the response, the man stomped away. Anthen waited another few minutes and, sensing the man was gone for good this time, rolled from beneath the table and walked casually in the opposite direction.
He left the marketplace by a different exit and made his way back across town by a circuitous route. Remembering the instructions from that first night that seemed a lifetime ago, he continued to the south end of what appeared to be the main north-south roadway in Gates. He leaned against a lamppost and waited.
Only dark shops occupied the area and, with no tavern in the vicinity, the streets were empty and quiet. Fifteen minutes later he saw the unmistakable bulky figure of the elder guardsman approach. As he neared, Anthen could see bruises on the older man's countenance.
"Greetings, Master Garrick. I see you have met with trouble on the road."
"Aye, more than you know. Let us move into the shadows and take a seat for the palaver."
Garrick moved from the lamppost to the step of the nearest shop and sat with a groan. Anthen followed and sat at the other end of the step. Both men's eyes continuall
y scanned the area, never even glancing at the other.
"Master Garrick, are you not well?" Anthen could tell the older man was in pain and he looked absolutely exhausted.
"I will be fine and I will answer to Garrick. You are no apprentice as far as I am concerned."
"Were you accosted by highwaymen?"
"No, you dealt with them most ably." Garrick glanced at Anthen and winked, then his face grew more serious. "No, it was some manner of beast ... an unearthly beast."
Garrick recounted the details of the previous night's attack and his escape from the cave that morning. He watched the younger man's face during the tale for his reaction. The cool apprentice betrayed no emotion.
"Did you encounter anything of the like?" asked Garrick when he had finished.
"No," answered the younger guardsman, "But do you recall the one-eyed wayfarer's tale?"
"Yes," replied the older guardsman without hesitation, "The similarity between his tale and mine are great."
"I agree." Anthen nodded, recalling the tortured visage. "I thought the one-eyed man insane but after your account I now think he may have spoken the truth."
"Crazy he might well be, after witnessing such terror," replied Garrick, "but I do not doubt his tale now. The demon toyed with me also and that is unnatural."
"Do you think Cidrl may have a hand in this?"
Garrick shrugged. "Who may say. We must not rule it out though. What say you?"
"A man who can steal a guardsman's will must have great powers. Either way it is an evil omen."
The pair sat for several minutes, sharing pertinent information each had learned from their journey. For the first time, they exchanged thoughts freely and openly, like equal comrades. Anthen guessed they each had more respect for the other plus both were lonely after the long, isolated journey. The barriers of age and experience had diminished somewhat. Thrown in a dangerous and unfamiliar land and faced with a difficult task, the former strangers now had a lot more in common.
After a while the conversation naturally turned to what lay ahead. Garrick resumed the role of master more but it bothered Anthen less.
"I have secured lodging, a room with a separate entrance and a suitable place for us to meet." Garrick explained where to find the lodging and how to enter. "We must convene as often as possible. You may not recognize the spell so I must keep a close watch."
Anthen nodded. "I will form a relationship with the woman from Verilia and that will give me cause to come to Gates often enough," he answered automatically. The idea had just come to him and he couldn't help wonder whether using the maiden was his true motive for seeing her.
Garrick scowled at the thought of Anthen seeing the young woman again but had to admit it was a good excuse for regular visits to Gates.
"I will watch you as best I can without risking discovery. If you feel as though you are losing control, flee." Garrick winced as he recalled the vision of the vehement hatred of the wagoneer back in Kaslow. "Flee and we will deal with Cidrl together. If you are discovered or are unable to escape for any reason, display this somehow so it is visible from a distance."
He handed Anthen a small red pennant. "If I see this flag I will come to your aid." The thought occurred to the older guardsman that the banner might be used to lure him to a trap but that was a risk he would take.
The two guardsmen continued to discuss their situation for some time until, as with all meetings, there was nothing more to say. Both were apprehensive and didn't really want the meeting to end but neither would ever say such a thing or betray such emotions, a sign of weakness in their minds. Instead, the two warriors rose, clasped hands and wished each other good luck. Garrick felt helpless and guilty as he watched the younger man's form disappear in the darkness.
Chapter 15
Anthen returned to the inn and slept fitfully, the short night filled with nightmares of the man he would meet the next day. Never having seen Cidrl, his imagination filled the dream with horrible images, combining the man with the terrible beast described by Garrick and the wayfarer. He awoke before dawn feeling as though he hadn't slept at all.
After following up his normal morning exercise routine with a hot bath, he forced down a large breakfast. Butterflies filled his stomach and he had no appetite but the nervous guardsman also didn't know how hungry he might become later; since Garrick had warned that Cidrl might put something in his food. Anthen was armed with an ingredient to help neutralize the effects of any such poison but even so he knew the prospect wouldn't do much for his appetite for any food from his new master’s kitchen.
A warm and sunny morning greeted him as he rode from the stable, a fine spring day that promised the approach of summer. The nice weather was completely wasted on the young guardsman, however, since his mind dwelt solely on the looming meeting. There had been such build-up and so much rode on his young shoulders that even an experienced guardsman would be feeling the butterflies. Though his calm exterior gave no indication, the apprentice's nerves were on edge from the tension.
Although Anthen did not appreciate the fine weather, his training was such that he remained ever vigilant, all senses monitoring his surroundings for potential trouble. The previous day's adventures with the man in black were fresh in his mind and likely the same man or another could be watching him that very moment. He discerned nothing unusual though, as he moved through the streets of Gates, quiet and empty in the early-morning light. Once the he passed the edge of town, the land quickly turned to open grasslands, with few trees and even fewer dwellings to be seen. He spied some small hills but he sensed the elevation was generally decreasing as he moved further eastward. Some might find this flat, open landscape comfortable but Anthen preferred broken terrain with more trees. He felt exposed and knew that he and Rorc could be seen from miles away. He could certainly see why the prairie was so popular for raising cattle, though; he had never seen so much grass.
Cidrl owned a sizable estate and raised cattle as a cover. Few guardsmen became landowners and such a fixed cover was unusual but not as odd as his many years handling this same region. As a cadet, Anthen had been warned that field agents moved often and it had shocked the apprentice to find out that this purported traitor had held the coveted Gates assignment for more than a decade.
The sun still hadn’t reached halfway to its peak when Anthen reached the outer fence that marked the beginning of Cidrl's land. He entered the empty gate and closed it behind him. Soon he was riding through Cidrl's herd and from just the number of cattle he could see, he guessed his new master must do quite well for himself.
A short time later, Anthen came in sight of the main house and paused, letting Rorc feed on the plentiful grass for a few minutes. He briefly enjoyed the thought of turning around but the joy was fleeting since his determination didn’t waver. He just needed a few moments to collect himself. He had come a very long way, his personal journey much greater than the mere distance from Carael. Finally he would come face to face with the man supposedly responsible for crushing his dream.
Actually the guardsman couldn’t see the house itself. Ahead was a small hill, completely covered in trees. The unnatural cluster of trees rose from the vast prairie like an island from a sea of grass. Cidrl's main dwellings, he had been told, lie at the heart of the forested rise. He pulled Rorc away from delectable greens and in just a few minutes, he halted the bay stallion at the edge of the tree line. The woods seemed thick, dark and impenetrable, especially after the open plains. The apprentice skirted around the hill until he found a cave-like entrance in the thick woodland, the limbs threaded a few feet above his head like a thatched roof.
Inside, Anthen shivered with the dramatic temperature change. The warm spring day out on the prairie was lost to the chilly, damp, grayness inside the cave of trees. The tree branches on either side of the trail twisted together so thickly he could only see a few feet. Privacy appeared important to his new master. He followed the narrow road as it wound its way up the hill, meande
ring more in the places where the grade became steeper. Shortly, the road crested and the trees fell away to reveal a tall wall and an open, arched gate.
The wary apprentice passed through the gate and came to a large, flat field. He could see that the wall completely enclosed a good-sized compound with several dwellings. He saw stables, small huts with grass roofs, and in the center stood what could only be described as a small castle, the master's home no doubt. On the far side of the complex were livestock pens and a small pond. He could see a few cattle grazing contentedly in some of the pens.
Anthen heard pounding from inside one of the nearby huts and he approached. He stopped in front of the open side of the dwelling, which looked to be a smithy from the manner of tools hanging on the walls.
"Pardon sir, could you please direct me to your master?"
The man was hunched over his anvil wielding a large hammer, his back to the newcomer, and appeared not to have heard. His filthy tunic was soaked with the sweat from his labors. Anthen dismounted and moved closer before repeating the question more loudly.
"I have no master," the man muttered without looking up.
"I am seeking Cidrl," Anthen responded neutrally, taking no offense.
At that question the black-faced smith jerked his head up and advanced toward the young guardsman with the hammer raised.
"State your business pup!" the man snarled in obvious anger.
"My name is Anthen and my business is with your master" the guardsman shot back in a menacing voice.
To the apprentice's amazement, the smithy rushed forward, swinging the sizable tool.
