After lunch they met again with Gaen to plan the next day’s departure. Fender led Joel to the troop barracks, a large building a few blocks away from the royal house, where the Warmaster was conferring with a serious-looking man. Gaen introduced him as Frayne, a scout who had spent much of his career on the Western border.
Frayne was short and squat, and obviously in excellent physical condition. He was completely bald, and his scalp was crisscrossed by scars, both old and new. He shook Joel’s hand gruffly and gestured toward a map laid out on the table. “This is the route we’re going to be taking through the Northern Wastes,” he said as he showed the magicians a route laid out in red ink. “We’ll hold to the main road until we pass through Gerund, where we’ll restock our provisions and see if we can find a guide willing to take us through the Wastes.”
Joel interrupted the man cautiously. “A guide? I thought nobody went into the Wastes if they could possibly help it.”
Gaen snorted. “Nobody sane, you mean. The border towns in the North are populated by all types, including would-be hunters and guides that travel in and out of the Wastes fairly regularly, tempting fate. Most don’t survive for too many journeys, but there are a few that have, I’m sure. We’ll try to find one of them. Most will be happy to take a party into the Wastes for a price.”
Frayne continued. “After we’ve restocked, we’ll leave from Gerund and make our way through the Wastes as quickly as possible. Wizard, you’ll have to lead us, since you can’t point us in the right direction currently.”
Fender nodded. “I shall continue to try the locator spell at regular intervals. I can only hope that as we near the Duran’s location, the spell will become more specific. Until I know better, however, your route looks as good as any other.”
“Good. Meet us here at first light tomorrow morning.” Without another word, Frayne turned back to Gaen and continued discussing the journey as if Fender and Joel had ceased to exist.
Fender turned to Joel. “I think you and I are as ready as we’re ever going to be. Since we have some time, and you are a stranger here, after all, how would you like to see Beláin?”
Joel practically jumped. “That would be awesome, Fender! I’d love to see the sights!”
J’Mart, who up until then had been relatively quiet, chimed in as well. “I would like that as well, magic man. It’s been a long time since I was here last. I’d like to see what’s changed.” Fender smiled, and led Joel and the Ramiken into the city.
Joel soon discovered that Beláin was a thriving metropolis. The city was very similar to what he assumed cities during the Middle Ages on Earth had looked like. As they walked, Fender told him that the city’s population numbered about fifty thousand. It wasn’t long before Joel was hopelessly lost as the wizard led him through winding streets, pointing out different districts as they passed through. There was no centralized business district; rather each district seemed to be concentrated on one of several skills, such as weaving or metalworking or woodworking. All the stores in an area catered to that particular skill, with the exception of food. Food merchants were everywhere, from fresh fruit vendors to women hawking some sort of meat on a skewer that smelled like venison to Joel. They stopped at a few vendor’s stalls to eat, Fender treating Joel to the skewered meat (which tasted like venison as well) and a few different kinds of bread, all unlike anything he had ever tasted before. Everything was washed down with ale, which was also readily available.
As they continued to walk through the late afternoon, the appearance of the surrounding houses and businesses gradually changed, and Joel became aware of the odor of salt and fish in the air. He identified the smell and asked Fender, “You’re taking me to the docks?”
The wizard nodded. “No visit to Beláin is complete without seeing the docks and the Meringian Sea. Much of Asria’s wealth comes from the sea, after all. The Fisher’s Guild is powerful and populous, with members numbering in the tens of thousands.”
“So Asria’s economy is dependent on fishing?”
“Not completely. We have farming communities farther inland as well. But we border the Meringian Sea all along our eastern border, so fishing is a big part of life here. You may have noticed the many different types of fish for sale in the food stalls.” Joel hadn’t, but he had been overwhelmed with all of the things to see as they walked.
“How many wizards do you have?” asked J’Mart, who until then had been unusually silent during the tour.
“As far as I know, I am the only one in Beláin. There are eight others scattered throughout Asria and the surrounding lands that I know personally. Why?”
The Ramiken shrugged noncommittally. “Just wondering. I worked once with a wizard named Ged… Gef…”
“Gephram?”
“Yup! That’s him!” J’Mart perked up. “Do you know him? How’s he doing? Does he still have that annoying bird that won’t let you get a word in edgewise? Did he ever shave his beard? I told him he’d look much younger and maybe have a shot with the ladies if he did, but he didn’t want to listen.”
Fender paused meaningfully, a somber expression on his face. “I’m sorry, J’Mart, but Gephram died over three hundred years ago.”
The little man’s face fell noticeably. “Damn. Has it been that long? That is the problem with living for eons. All your drinking buddies die.” He was quiet for a moment. “That, and the term ‘lifetime guarantee’ takes on a whole new meaning.” He was quiet again, and then seemed to snap out of it. “Okay, let’s go. What’s next to see?”
Fender gave them a tour of the docks, and by the time he was finished it was almost dark. As they headed back to the royal house Joel noticed that the torches that were prevalent as street lights throughout the city did a good job of keeping the streets and alleyways well-lit. He saw a few unkempt, unsavory looking characters, but overall the impression of Beláin was of a relatively crime-free place. Joel also noticed frequent groups of soldiers patrolling the streets, presumably doing their part to keep the streets safe.
The wizard led them back to his quarters by a more straight-forward route than the tour he had given them, but it was still well after nightfall by the time they arrived at his tower. Joel was exhausted again, and was well aware that he had an early morning start the next day. He knew that the expedition leaving in the morning was a dangerous one, but he was unable to summon a sense of fear or panic. Maybe I’m just too tired, he thought. I’ll probably wake up in the morning and panic. He followed Fender upstairs with J’Mart, lay down on the couch, and was soon fast asleep.
It seemed he had barely closed his eyes when he awoke to J’Mart jumping on his chest. “Come on, magic man! Time to go! We’ve got books to find and worlds to save and princesses to rescue and –”
Joel sat up and groaned. “What princess? I don’t remember there being any talk of a princess.” He rubbed his eyes. “There should be a label on your rock: ‘Warning: Contents may not let you sleep.’”
“Ha! There’s always a princess in these things! If you’re lucky, she’ll even be human! And being your alarm clock is just one of my helpful features.” The Ramiken did a little dance on the back of the couch. “I also offer dancing lessons, if you’re interested.”
“No, thanks. How about coffee? Or mirpoix?” After J’Mart helped Joel scrounge up some of the Aleran equivalent of coffee, Joel and Fender gathered their packs and the three of them headed toward the barracks. It was still dark and the air was a bit brisk. As they walked, Joel found himself looking up at the sky, looking for some familiar constellations. As he half expected, however, there were none he recognized.
When they reached the barracks, Frayne was waiting for them. The short man looked like he had already been awake for hours and was very alert. “Good. You’re here on time. Let me introduce you to the team that’s coming along and very likely helping to keep your asses alive.” He called into the darkness, and a group of five people materialized silently in the pre-dawn shadows. Frayne introduced th
e men as Bowen, Step and Oren. Joel could barely see them, much less remember who was who. Then Frayne introduced the two women, Athena and Luana. Despite the darkness, Joel could not help but notice Athena. She had brown hair to her shoulders and striking green eyes that stood out even in the darkness. Though she was attractive, there was no hint of softness about her; both she and Luana looked as rock-solid as any of their male colleagues.
Dragging his attention away from the striking woman, Joel looked around the barracks. As soon as the scouts had been introduced they returned to work, packing knapsacks, loading packs onto horses and various other tasks. Some were even sharpening swords methodically. The building was a bustle of quiet activity, and all of the scouts seemed to know exactly what to do. Fender had disappeared somewhere, and Joel was left standing by himself. Even J’Mart had vanished as they approached the barracks, muttering something under his breath that Joel hadn’t heard.
Feeling somewhat useless, Joel spotted Prince Jared talking quietly with Gaen and wandered over. The two men looked up as he approached. “Good morning, SongMaster!” said the Prince heartily. “Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough, I suppose,” answered Joel. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this, but I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” The Prince smiled, though Gaen’s face remained unreadable. Joel continued, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Jared shrugged. “Actually, I think the experts here have it all under control. I offered to help, myself, but they pointed to this” – he gestured to his wounded bicep – “and very diplomatically told me to get lost.” He grimaced. “Damn thing does hurt, but I can still pack and fight with the best of them. Oh, well.”
“Can I ask you something?” asked Joel.
“Ask away.”
“How long is it going to take to get to where we’re going? I mean, Fender’s shown me maps and routes, but how far is it to Gerund and the Northern Wastes? I haven’t gotten a good sense of distance yet.”
Jared thought for a moment. “Well, it’ll probably take about a week of riding to get to Gerund. When we get there, as Frayne said, we’ll look for a guide, and after that it’s anybody’s guess, since we don’t really know where we’re going. We will have to leave the horses behind in Gerund, though. There’s no way to take horses into the Wastes.”
“Why not?” Although he wasn’t a strong rider, when he saw the horses Joel had been slightly relieved to see that he wasn’t going to have to walk across this new world on foot.
“The ground is too unpredictable. There’s no way I can describe the landscape to you that does it justice, so just believe me when I tell you that no horse could navigate through it with any speed. It’ll be faster to do it on foot, and that’ll be dangerous enough.”
Joel thought back to the maps Fender had showed him. It seemed to him that the Northern Wastes stretched considerably farther than the distance from Beláin to Gerund. As if reading his thoughts, Jared continued, “I know, it’s quite a distance, but it can’t be helped. Perhaps if you talked with your wizard friends and had them either move the Duran closer to us or move us closer to the Duran…” He smiled infectiously when Joel looked at him, not sure if he was serious. “Just kidding, SongMaster. I’m sure if that were an option, it would have been mentioned already. I’m just trying to make light of a difficult time ahead of us. I have a habit of doing that. Now, let’s see how close we are to actually leaving, shall we?”
With that, he and Joel walked into the midst of all of the activity and found Frayne cinching the strap on a chestnut horse. The short man looked up as they approached. “We’re about ready, your Highness. If you’d be so kind as to mount up, we can make ready to leave.” He looked at Joel. “This is your horse, SongMaster. His name is Adre, and he’ll treat you well. You are not an experienced rider?” Joel shook his head. “Then Adre is perfect for you. Mount up!” As Joel clumsily struggled into the saddle, Frayne turned and yelled to the others. “Mount up! We ride!” Before he knew what was happening, Joel found himself in the midst of the company as they rode away from the barracks.
He was just accustoming himself to riding again when Fender rode up next to him, mounted on a white mare and looking as if he had been born in the saddle. “Joel? How are you doing?”
“Fine, I guess. I haven’t ridden a horse in more than ten years, so I’m seriously out of practice. I’ll catch on again, I hope. It’s like riding a bike, right?” The wizard looked at him strangely. “Never mind. I’ll be all right. Just keep looking in on me to make sure I’m still in the saddle, okay?”
Fender chuckled and nodded, and the two men rode in silence for a while. Joel was beginning to get used to the rhythm of the horse as they rode through the streets. The sound of the horses’ hooves was the only thing that could be heard, and it was a little eerie. Before long he realized that he could see Fender and the others without straining, and then the sun broke the horizon behind them and lit the streets with a reddish gold light.
Although he wanted to look around at the city as they rode, he had to concentrate on the mechanics of riding. He was starting to feel more comfortable with the motions when there was a ‘Pop!’ and J’Mart appeared, perched on the saddle in front of him. Joel jumped in surprise, and Adre spooked. It took an immense effort to get the gelding calm and under control again, and the other riders looked at him curiously, as if waiting to see if Joel could pacify the animal without help.
When the horse had settled and had resumed his trot, Joel glared at the Ramiken, who had sat through the entire process without saying a word. “Do you have to do that when I’m riding a horse?” he hissed.
“Hey, control your steed, magic man. Come on, that was funny!” The little man was actually grinning. “You’ve gotta be ready to handle anything! Spooked horses! Troubled fundargs! Rabid Republicans!” Seeing the look on Joel’s face, he quieted. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t think the thing would spook that easily.”
Joel gritted his teeth and fell back into formation with the rest of the group. “Where have you been, anyway?”
“Oh, here and there. Looking around, scouting ahead. I really wasn’t interested in meeting your soldier buddies, so I’ve been playing tourist.”
Joel thought for a moment. “Do you think it’s possible that not all soldiers are bad? I don’t know what makes you hate them so much, but making the blanket assumption that a soldier is an idiot or a bad person –”
“Blanket? What, are you cold?”
“I mean, if you automatically assume that any soldier is evil or an imbecile, you might be missing out on meeting a nice person.”
Fender, who had been listening to this whole exchange, spoke up. “J’Mart, this may not be the time or the place to discuss this, but I am curious as well. What is the root of your great hatred for soldiers?”
The Ramiken shrugged. “You’re right. This is not the time or the place. I will tell you sometime, but not now.” He held up a finger. “However, since it seems to bother you two so much, I will make an effort to be cordial. And not just to the ladies. Deal?”
Joel nodded. “Fine. It’s all I can ask. That and please don’t poof into existence on the saddle of my horse anymore. It’s all I can do to stay up here as it is.”
J’Mart snickered. “But you gotta admit, you did look funny.” He settled into place on Joel’s saddle, and the two men and the Ramiken rode on in silence. Joel was soon able to divert some concentration from remaining astride his horse to looking around at the city. Some things began to look familiar to him as they rode.
When the party reached the wall of the city and rode out of the gate with barely a nod to the guards, Joel realized what he was seeing. “This is the same road I traveled to get to Beláin,” he said to Fender. “I recognize the gate, and I recognize the road leading to the city.”
“You must have arrived west of the city,” Fender replied. “We’re heading west now, before the road curves to the north, toward Gerund, if you remember the map. H
ow long did it take to you get to Beláin after you arrived?”
“A little more than a day. I got here in the morning, and I got to town about lunchtime the next day, when I found you. But I was walking, too, and looking around quite a bit. I expect we’ll reach the point where I arrived sooner than that.”
“Most likely today,” agreed the wizard.
The morning passed without incident as the group rode. The others in the party, for the most part, were silent, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Joel conversed a bit with Fender, and Jared when the Prince dropped back to join him every so often. For the most part the Prince stayed in the lead with Frayne.
Lunch was a short stop and consisted of jerky and some rolls. Joel took the opportunity to walk around, stretching muscles and tendons that were unused to horseback riding. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow it won’t be funny,” he said to J’Mart. “How are you at making pain go away?”
“That’s a healing spell,” said the little man. “Only Healers can do those, and they’re an uncommon breed. I’ve only met three, and I’ll bet your wizard friend there has never met one at all.”
“Why are they so rare? A spell’s a spell, isn’t it? And I thought you were basically made of magic.”
J’Mart shook his head. “Healing spells are different. Something about messing around with the life-force of a living thing makes it a whole different ball match.”
“You mean ball game?”
“Right. A wizard and a Healer aren’t the same thing. Healers can’t do most magic, and wizards can’t heal. Sorry fact of the multiverse, but that’s the way it is. You’re right – I’m practically a walking ball of magic, and I can’t do a healing spell.”
Joel resigned himself to feeling sore the next day and finished his lunch. Frayne only gave them a half hour or so to eat, then he was urging everybody back into the saddle, and the journey continued. Hours passed as they traveled. Joel tried to determine where he had connected with the road after his arrival on Alera, but all of the trees began to look the same soon after they left the outskirts of Beláin.
SongMaster's Realm Page 13
