Into The Ruins

by Blink, Bob

  They had gathered everything and were about to return to Oasis Five when Rigo suddenly spoke up. “I think I can make a Bypass,” he said softly.

  “To where?” Lorl asked.

  “That’s the thing,” Rigo replied. “The image just popped into my mind, but I don’t recognize where it is. I suspect it is a memory of Daim’s. But why it would come to mind now is rather odd, and normally without the staff I can’t sense in advance whether I can make a Bypass. I have to try to see. This feels like it did with the staff. I can sense it is possible even before making the attempt.”

  “Perhaps that’s because you have been using the ability with the staff so often lately. You said you were once linked with the staff. Perhaps it passed some ability to you.”

  “Is this place in the Ruins?” Orna asked.

  “I have no idea where it is,” Rigo replied honestly, but it looks to be a small village.

  “Let’s try it,” Lorl said urgently.

  Rigo looked at the others. Orna nodded her agreement.

  Ash’urn said. “Our situation could hardly become more desperate than it is at the moment.”

  “No promises,” Rigo said, but concentrated on the vision and used his inherent magic to open the Bypass.

  They all looked at the glowing arch uncertainly, then at one another.

  “It worked,” Orna said softly. “But where does it go?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Rigo said. “I can’t see any other way to get away from here. I say we go for it.”

  The others hesitated, then slowly nodded. Rigo lead the way, stepping into the arch. The others followed moments later. They exited onto a large patch of grass in a village commons. Rigo noted two teenaged boys a short distance away, and shouted a question at them.

  From the boy’s brief undecipherable answer Rigo knew they still had problems.

  Chapter 23

  Western Sedfair

  Present Day

  “We’ve crossed the Ruins,” Ash’urn said softly to Rigo as they hurried away from the grassy field where they had arrived.

  “What do you mean, crossed the Ruins?” Lorl demanded. He was on Rigo’s far side as they marched toward the village. Orna was on Lorl’s opposing side.

  “The Ruins are along the eastern border,” Rigo reminded Lorl. “Opposite Lopal,” he added for clarity.

  “Of course. So what?”

  “Here they’re to the west,” Orna said. She’d already figured it out as well. “Look at where the sun is setting. Rigo’s brought us to a place where the Ruins are on the wrong side. That suggests we are somewhere farther east. He didn’t open a pathway home, we went the other way. That’s why we couldn’t understand what the boy was saying. There’s a different land here. They speak a different language. The people look the same as home, but this is going to be completely foreign to us. I just don’t understand how Rigo, or Daim, could have a memory of this place.

  Rigo had wondered about that as well, but he had no answers and there was too much else to think about at the moment.

  Lorl still looked doubtful. “If this is where you say, how long since anyone from our side has been here?” he asked.

  “Daim didn’t know of it,” Rigo said after a short pause. “I’m pretty sure the vision I had wasn’t his, and there are no other memories that suggest he was aware this place existed. That was from 2600 years ago. He had memories of their history that went back at least a thousand years before that, so more than four thousands years I’d guess. Maybe all the way back to the time the Ruins were formed.”

  As they’d been talking they had left the grassy commons and entered the village itself. Several people stared at them as they passed, more than likely as much because of their worn appearance as their clothing. The styles were distinctly different, but given the human shape there were certain things that had to be similar. The biggest difference was the surprising range in colors and patterns. The local taste ran to the more garish with ornate accessories.

  “For a small village along the borderlands, this place is very nicely laid out,” Ash’urn noted. “I’ve never seen buildings with this kind of architecture, and the uniformity in the wood used in construction is remarkable. They must use magic in some way to obtain the effect.”

  The others had noted the differences as well. The use of metal in signs and posts was more common than back home, and an awareness of capabilities they weren’t familiar with was created everywhere they looked. One man passed by on a cross street ahead of them riding on an unusual contraption. It had four very large wheels, set in two pairs, fore and aft. Each pair of wheels were separated by only a hands width, Rigo guessed for stability, and the man sat on a small seat between the fore and aft pairs, using some kind of mechanical linkage to propel the vehicle with leg power.

  If there had been any doubt that communication was going to be a problem the signs they saw in windows or hanging above doors made it very clear. The letters and markings were unlike anything any of them had seen before.

  “After thousands of years, the language would have had to have diverged completely,” Ash’urn noted. “That’s assuming the language here and back home might have had any commonality even back then.”

  “How are we going to find out where we are or find a way back?” Lorl asked.

  “It isn’t going to be easy,” Rigo agreed. “For now, let’s see if we can figure out a few basics. If we can get something to eat, and a place to stay, maybe we can get in touch with whoever is in charge and try and work this out. If something happens and we get separated, we meet back at the oasis we just left.”

  “Why would we want to go back there?” Orna asked. “I’ve seen enough of the Ruins to last me the rest of my life. We’ve already decided we can’t get back that way.”

  “We might need a place where we can’t be followed,” Rigo said softly. He was eyeing a small band of guardsmen well down the street. “That’s the second group of guardsmen I’ve seen since we arrived. That suggests they have some kind of problem here and we might not be welcome. We might be mistaken for whomever they are worried about.”

  The others looked where Rigo indicated, seeing the men that had him concerned.

  “Maybe we should try here,” Ash’urn suggested, drawing their attention away from the armed men.

  He pointed to a sign hanging above a doorway. The name was impossible to read, but the artwork was not unlike what they had seen over a thousand taverns. It looked like that kind of place.

  “Let’s have a look,” Rigo agreed, and Ash’urn took the lead by heading inside.

  The guess had been a good one, and they found themselves in a large room with a bar along one wall with several patrons drinking something from mugs. The opposite side of the room was crowded with tables, only a few of which were occupied at the moment, but the purpose was clear. They chose a table away from the door and settled in.

  “How do we order, and what can we use to pay with?” Lorl asked.

  Rigo slid a gold Royale onto the table. “Gold is gold,” he said. “It might look different, but I’ll bet they will accept this.”

  “Where did that come from?” Orna asked.

  “I used to carry a couple of gold coins inside the staff,” Rigo explained. “When it broke back at the oasis, three of these fell out. It isn’t much, but let’s see what it’ll buy us.”

  “This will be interesting,” Lorl said, looking behind Rigo as a young woman approached.

  She was dressed more formally than most serving girls, but the manner in which she addressed them was so identical to waitresses everywhere, that they could guess what she was asking even though they couldn’t understand a word. The speech was rapid, with words that seemed to flow together.

  Ash’urn took the lead, and held up four fingers. The girl nodded, and pointed to a board on the wall behind them that listed the menu. Several different items were listed with what had to be prices. There was also a separate listing headed by a large tankard, so th
at had to be beverages. Ash’urn stood and pointed to the second item on the list, and the first item under the drinks. The waitress looked at him oddly, but nodded.

  She then quoted a price, at least that’s what Rigo guessed she was saying. He handed her the gold Royale. She looked at it oddly, turning it over in her hand several times. Finally she shrugged and smiled, then turned and wandered off.

  “That went better than we might have expected,” Orna said after the woman had walked away. “What do you think she’s telling the folks in back?”

  It was only a short wait before the woman returned carrying four large tankards which she placed on the table in front of them. Then she reached into her dress and extracted a handful of coins, some silver, some copper, which she dutifully counted out to Rigo.

  “Let me see,” Ash’urn asked after the woman had left again. He carefully examined the coins Rigo handed him. “Never seen the like,” he said finally. “These are mostly silver. If the relative values are the same as back home, then our meal cost about a third of the Royale. That’s a bit pricey.”

  “We might want to sleep in the oasis just to conserve our funds,” Rigo suggested.

  “That’s not bad,” Lorl said after taking a cautious pull at the drink. “It’s a bit strong, though. They must like their drink here, wherever we are.”

  The others sampled the drinks and agreed. After nothing but warm water for days, the cool ale or whatever it was, was a welcome change. While they were drinking, the girl returned carrying a platter on which she balanced four large bowls that she placed in front of them along with metal spoons. When Ash’urn nodded, she smiled and wandered off.

  They had ordered some kind of stew, which steamed and gave off a mouth-watering aroma. Once again, Lorl was first to try, and he pronounced the food satisfactory. “I don’t recognize the meat, but they’ve got a nice mix of vegetables in there.”

  They dug into the meal, discussing what to do afterwards. It would be good to have a look around, but it was getting late which would make it more difficult to learn anything.

  “There were four of them, Sergeant,” Fen said respectfully as he recounted the sighting of the odd strangers he and Garss had made a short time earlier. They had hurried to the guard station after watching the four walk off toward the village.

  “One of them was a Baldari,” Garss added when Fen completed his report.

  “She wasn’t a Baldari,” Fen objected.

  “Was so,” Garss countered. “She was small and dark, just like everyone says they look. I’m certain of it.”

  “Baldari?” the Sergeant asked, suddenly more interested. He looked at Fen and Garss. “This isn’t some kind of game, now is it? It will go poorly with you if you are making a false report. Where did these people come from? Where did you see them?”

  “They appeared out of a Doorway in the village commons,” Fen explained for the second time.

  “A Doorway is it?” the Sergeant asked. “How would you know about a Doorway? Not many can make one of those.”

  “I’m an apprentice Caster,” Fen explained. “I have been chosen to attend the Guild’s University for Casters in Nals. I know what a Doorway is and how difficult they are to create.”

  “If they came through a Doorway, then they must be members of the Guild or work for the Queen in some way,” the Sergeant said.

  Fen was shaking his head before the man finished. Fen wished his father were here. Then they would be able to get this man’s attention. “They were dressed oddly, not in the kind of robes one would expect from a Senior Caster. Their garments were worn and dirty. And they didn’t appear to understand our language.”

  “You spoke with them?” the Sergeant asked.

  “Only from a distance. The first one through the Doorway saw me and yelled something. It was in a tongue I’ve never heard before. When I asked him to repeat what he said, I could tell he didn’t understand me.”

  Fen was still explaining to the Sergeant when another group of guardsmen came into the building. With them was a short man in robes, carrying an engraved staff. Fen knew it had to be Ferkle. His father had described the man to him more than once. Anxious to pass the responsibility, the Sergeant called to the Lieutenant.

  “Sir, you should listen to him,” he said.

  Fen was forced to repeat his story, and when finished, Ferkle was the first to speak up.

  “We should look into his story. I know of Fen. He’s not the type to make something like this up.”

  “That was very good,” Orna said as they exited the tavern after finishing their meal. A bounce had returned to her step after the satisfying repast.

  They hoped to have time for a brief look around before it became completely dark. If they could find a barn or some such where they could spend the night, so much the better, otherwise they might have to return to the oasis until morning. As they stepped into the street, they noticed a band of a dozen guardsmen blocking the street in both directions. Ash’urn noticed the two youths they had encountered in the commons. Obviously, they had detected something wrong with the strangers, and had reported them to the guard.

  “Trant!” shouted a large man who stood at the front of the group. He held a sword with the bright white blade that Rigo now recognized as being created from Hoplani bones. Even not able to understand the language, the sharp, single syllable command was self-explanatory.

  “Rigo?” Orna asked. “What should we do?”

  “Let’s be real careful,” Rigo warned. “They are armed, and we can’t afford any trouble. We might be stuck here for a long time, and we can’t afford difficulties with the locals.”

  “Maybe I should try,” Ash’urn offered, but Orna was already raising out her hands toward the officer and speaking softly.

  Fen was watching from behind the soldiers. He knew he would have some explaining to do when he got home, but the Lieutenant and Ferkle had been insistent they come along to identify the strangers. He heard one of the guardsman mutter a curse, “Murdering Baldari,” just as he released his crossbow bolt toward the short woman. “That’s for my brother,” he said as he fired.

  The distance between the guardsman and the strange woman was short, and the arrow was swift, but somehow she had time to react. To Fen’s surprise a ball of bright red fire seemed to jump from her extended hand, a hand that had seemed peaceful to Fen a moment before. The ball of fire intercepted the arrow before it had covered half the distance between her and the archer, burning it out of existence in a flash.

  Seeing the magic fire, four more archers on the far side of the strangers released their own arrows. Fen knew enough from talking with his father that they shouldn’t have done so without orders from the Lieutenant, but the fear of a Baldari attack had put everyone on edge, and the men were obviously surprised by the display of magic. Everyone had claimed that the Baldari didn’t know magic. Perhaps that was just the men. Fen had never heard of a Baldari woman being seen during the attacks, and wondered if their women could have capabilities not witnessed in the men.

  The four arrows in flight suddenly stopped abruptly in midair, then they dropped harmlessly to the ground. Fen didn’t know why, but he was certain the dark haired man that had been the first to step out of the Doorway in the commons earlier was responsible for stopping them. Fen realized that Ferkle was stepping forward, the crystal atop his staff starting to glow with power.

  Rigo could see the situation was rapidly growing out of hand. Without the ability to communicate, their words sounded like meaningless shouts. There was no easy way to bring the situation under control. They had to get out of here and hope to repair the damage this encounter would cause at a later time. He was about to make a Bypass when he noticed the small man with the staff stepping forward. Unlike Rigo’s staff which had been plain and worn looking, this one was ornate, covered with a multitude of symbols and topped with a gaudy colored crystal. As Rigo watched the crystal began to glow. Rigo realized that the crystal was somehow important to t
he magic the man was about to call forth, and as a bright band of Brightfire erupted from the staff, Rigo instinctively called upon the skill that Daim had transferred to him so long ago, and wiped the Brightfire from existence. He could sense the shock that traveled through the group of soldiers.

  The wizard, for that was clearly what he was, was mumbling something incomprehensible and the staff was starting to glow once again. Obviously, he was preparing something new. Rigo couldn’t be certain he would be able to handle anything this one might be able to conjure up. They knew nothing about the magical skills here. Seeing no option, he brought forth a narrow but extremely intense beam of Brightfire of his own, which he targeted toward the staff. The beam of magical energy struck the staff just below the base of the crystal. Almost instantly the entire staff was encased in a bright white light. The wizard released his staff in shock, and stepped back. A second later the staff flashed brightly and disappeared, consumed by the magic Rigo had released.

  The soldiers stepped back nervously. Given a moment of respite, Rigo called up a Bypass back to the oasis in the Ruins. “Let’s go,” he yelled, and stepped into the arch, followed moments later by his friends.

  “Did you see that?’ Fen asked Garss unnecessarily. Garss’ eyes were wide with amazement at the fighting that had so abruptly broken out. The strangers appeared to have gotten the better of the engagement, and had escaped unharmed. Fen could hardly wait to relate the event to his father. Whoever they had been, they weren’t from the Guild as the sergeant had been trying to tell them. What Fen couldn’t help remembering, however, was the magic that had been released and controlled so expertly, had all been accomplished without a staff to focus the energies. He had seen no use of runes or glyphs, nor had he seen any of the strangers vocalizing their spells. He had watched with an expert eye, and while Ferkle approached the encounter as Fen would have expected, the magic the strangers employed required none of the usual preparations.