Within a league of the pass, the Dark Forest began in earnest, and Garth soon understood how the name had originated. The forest was fairly dense, and the old giants culminated in a broad expanse of branches that intermingled with the braches of neighboring trees. The canopy was so dense that little light filtered through it to strike the ground. The dimness within the forest gave the impression of twilight even during the high sun portion of the day.
There was no other traffic on the Zinbar Trail, and Garth figured that word of the closing of the Ramaldi Pass had halted attempts to cross the Barrier. With the halting of caravan traffic along the Zinbar Trail, the bandits appeared to have moved elsewhere. While Edmond still demanded security procedures to be followed, the nightly encampments were more peaceful and festive than they had been in the West Woods. Garth and Tedi joined the caravan warriors each evening in sparring matches and soon Edmond's men began to develop new fighting techniques based on their bouts with the Knights of Alcea. By the third evening, the daily festivities had grown so much like a gypsy caravan that Natia and Kalina, as well as all the wagon drivers, gathered around the bouts and shouted encouragement to the contestants. The activities had spread from sparring to other tests of mettle. Warriors wrestled, threw knives, and shot arrows, and the men began to wager on the outcomes.
"It's like a festival," chuckled Edmond as he sat down between Garth and Natia. "I haven't seen the men have so much fun in many years."
"It has probably been a long time since bandits took a holiday," replied Garth. "Maybe they should keep the pass closed indefinitely."
"The Dark Forest would be a far better place if they did," agreed Edmond. "This road would never be traveled were it not for the pass. There is nothing else up this way. Sidney told me once that caravanning used to be like this, but I could not imagine it. The men are happier than I have ever seen them."
"It won't last," interjected Natia. "Sooner or later the pass will reopen, and the bandits will hear of it."
"No doubt," agreed Garth. "When did bandits become such a daily experience?" he asked Edmond.
"Before my time," answered Edmond. "Sidney said it started shortly after the day the world shook. That is when the Gloom began, and the fields and streams began to whither and die."
"The Gloom?" asked Garth.
"It was a perpetual shading of the sky," explained Edmond. "I always thought that was just how the sky was until I was already a young man, but in my youth I never saw the sun or the moon. Suddenly, about three years ago, the Gloom just disappeared. It was an amazing sight for those of us who had never truly seen the sky before, but according to Sidney, the damage had already been done. My father talks about fat cattle and game so large that I know he is exaggerating, but I have seen animals in the last three years that are larger than I ever thought possible."
"I don't think Sidney was exaggerating," Garth replied. "In our land we called it the Darkness, but it was the same thing. I have seen some of the animals in your land, and they still have a ways to go before they are what I would call normal. Your deer are thin and small, and the few cows I have seen could grow by another half easily. I am surprised that your horses are so healthy."
"Horses are valuable," stated Edmond. "Many times they are cared for before their owner's needs are met. A man can go without food for a fair amount of time, but he dare not lose his horse."
The crowd was fairly loud and boisterous, but one voice rang out over the others, and Natia took immediate notice of it.
"You throw like girl," laughed one of the caravan warriors. "You are not even competition for me any more."
Garth also heard the taunt and turned to look at the gypsy princess. There was a gleam in her eye and her hand was extended towards Garth with her palm upwards.
"Give me some gold," she said softly.
Garth laughed and slid his small money pouch into her hand. Natia rose casually and moved towards the crowd of men throwing knives at a tree. She moved up next to a large man who had joined the caravan in Waxhaw. Natia knew the man's name was Tavitor. He had been the source of the taunt, and Natia had her mind on teaching him an expensive lesson.
"And just how does a girl throw?" she asked Tavitor.
Tavitor looked down at her and laughed. "Well, you should know now, shouldn't you? I bet you could probably throw better than him," he added as he pointed at his latest victim.
"I don't know," shrugged Natia. "Is he the one you said that threw like a girl?"
"He's the one," chuckled the boaster.
"So," smiled Natia, "he is a better thrower than you?"
"Are you daft?" balked Tavitor. "I just said that he threw like a girl. Haven't you been listening?"
"I heard your statement," replied Natia, "but I guess I am confused by its meaning. I thought you were complimenting him."
"Now that's a laugh," chuckled Tavitor. "I could throw better than him with my eyes closed. What is the confusion in that?"
"Well," Natia replied as she saw Cobb grinning at her from the other side of Tavitor, "you obviously threw better than him, but you said he threw like a girl. That is confusing to me, because you can't throw as good as a girl, yet you boast about your abilities."
The group of men around the throwers rolled with laughter at the expense of the big man, and his face grew red with embarrassment.
"Now, miss," Tavitor said without humor, "I don't mean to be belittling anyone here, but girls just don't have the same level of skills that a man does."
"I know," smiled Natia, "but I admire men for trying to be as good as a woman."
Howls of laughter and streams of taunts rippled the air, and Tavitor's face grew darker. The contestants in the other bouts stopped their competitions and gathered around to watch. Many of them had heard the story of Natia's help during Cobb's stand, but not all of them, and some assumed it had just been luck.
"Perhaps you would care to show us all how wonderful a woman can throw a knife?" asked Tavitor.
"Is that a wager I hear getting stuck on the tip of your tongue?" retorted Natia.
"As much as you care to lose," countered Tavitor. "Make it easy on yourself. I don't care too much for taking money without a real challenge."
"I'll hold the wagers," volunteered Harker.
Natia nodded and tossed Garth's pouch to Harker. "There is more than enough in there to match anything that Tavitor can wager," she said. "And if he has a horse that he wants to wager, I will match that, too."
Harker opened the pouch and whistled loudly. Tavitor's eyes widened at Natia's statements, and he turned to glance at Harker.
"There is more than enough in here to cover your life's savings, Tavitor," Harker declared. "How much do you want to lose?"
"Lose?" balked Tavitor as he tossed his own purse to Harker. "Have you all gone mad? I will wager all of it and teach the young lass not to interfere when men are at play."
"I've got ten gold on Natia for anyone willing to match it," shouted Cobb. "Any takers?"
The whole camp erupted in shouting as the men made wagers on the outcome of the match. When all the bets were placed and the crowd calmed down, Tavitor explained the rules to Natia.
"The circle on the tree is our target," he said as he pointed to a large circle chalked on a tree twenty paces away. "We each have three attempts to put two knives into the circle. If we both manage to do it, or neither of us does, we get our knives and try again. The first person to get two knives into the circle in a round, when the other one does not, wins. It is that simple."
"That could take all night," declared Natia. "Do you mind if we change the rules a bit?"
"To what?" Tavitor asked with narrowed eyes.
Natia smiled and walked towards the tree. She picked up the piece of chalk from the ground and drew a smaller circle inside the larger one. Tavitor raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but he didn't object. Natia walked back towards Tavitor, but she kept on walking when she got to him. Men moved out of her way as she paced off another twenty pa
ces. She turned around and smiled at Tavitor.
"This should make the match a little more challenging and shorten the contest," she said. "Are you agreeable?"
Tavitor shook his head in disbelief as he walked the additional twenty paces to Natia and turned around to look at the tree.
Still shaking his head, he shrugged in acceptance. "It will make the contest quicker," he said, "but if you are game, I am."
"Then start throwing and show me how a man does it," taunted Natia.
To Tavitor's credit, he was a good thrower. His first knife entered the small circle and several of the spectators applauded him. His second throw was within the larger circle, but it didn't count as it failed to enter the smaller circle. Beads of sweat formed on Tavitor's brow as he prepared for the third toss. When he finally released the knife, it sailed into the inner circle and the crowd erupted in applause. A broad grin split Tavitor's face, and he bowed mockingly to the spectators.
"Don't be nervous," Tavitor coached Natia. "It's only gold."
Natia ignored the taunt and pulled a knife from her belt. She hesitated a long time, changing her grip on the knife as if she was unsure how to hold it. The crowd fell silent, and finally the gypsy threw the knife. It sailed true and struck the tree just inside the smaller circle. Scattered applause rang out, and even Tavitor nodded in appreciation. Natia pulled another knife from her belt. While she still moved the knife nervously in her hands, the delay was shorter. She released the second knife, and it also struck just within the small circle. Loud shouts of congratulations broke out as the two contestants walked to the tree to retrieve their weapons.
"You are far better than I thought," Tavitor said softly at the tree.
"The same can be said for you," smiled Natia. "I find that most boasters are usually short on skill."
Tavitor laughed in response, but it was not a humorous laugh. As Natia walked back to the throwing position, Natia caught Cobb's eye. Cobb had a puzzled look on his face as if he had thought that his bet was on more solid ground than it now appeared to be. Natia smiled and winked at him. Cobb's eyebrows rose in response.
Back at the throwing position, Tavitor threw his first throw of the second round. The knife struck the tree just outside the smaller circle and was scored a miss. His second throw was far better and landed well inside the small circle. Once again perspiration dampened Tavitor's brow, and he hesitated a long time before releasing the third knife. It also just missed the second circle, and Tavitor scuffed the ground with his boot in disgust. Someone shouted a taunt that the match was over, and Tavitor whirled to face the man.
"My misses are not far away from where her hits were last round," snapped Tavitor. "This match is far from over."
Natia had already sheathed one of her knives during the walk back from the tree. She now sheathed the other knife and Tavitor frowned in confusion.
"Those are not good throwers," smiled Natia. "I use them mostly for hacking and whittling, but don't worry about it, I will tell Harker to give you your gold back."
Natia crossed her arms with her fingers reaching into the sleeves of her tunic. Each hand retreated from the tunic holding a knife that had been secured in an arm sheath. One of the spectators whistled in appreciation. Natia flipped both knives in the air and let them fall back into her hands in perfect position to be thrown. Without delay, the gypsy hurled both knives at the same time, and the pair of them struck the tree in the very center of the small circle. For a brief moment the entire camp was stunned by the display of accuracy, but soon the shouts of congratulations split the still night air. Natia glanced at Tavitor and found the man staring at the tree. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were as wide as coins.
"That is how a girl throws," grinned Natia.
Chapter 30
Special Agent
On the fourth day of the trip from Ramaldi Pass to Zinbar, the caravan passed over a bridge on the Zinbar River. The bridge was an ancient stone structure, and while it showed signs of neglect, it was still sturdy, and the wagons rolled over it without problems. On the northern side of the Zinbar River, the nature of the forest changed. Gone were the tall dark giants with the foreboding canopy. The trees of the Kyber Woods were primarily mahogany, and Edmond explained that the country of Candanar owed much of its economy to sales of the hard, dark wood. The largest purchasers of the mahogany were the numerous shipyards downstream in Giza. Mahogany was also widely used in the manufacture of furniture, and the furniture makers of Zinbar were among the finest in all of Zara. It was to those wealthy furniture makers that Edmond hoped to sell his wagonloads of Vinafor wine. With no ready cargos available in Waxhaw, Sidney had purchased as much wine as he could fit into the wagons. It was now Edmond's task to produce a profit from the journey.
Two hours after crossing the river, Edmond called a halt for the night. There was no convenient clearing for the wagons to create their defensive circle, so Edmond had them pull to both sides of the road, leaving a narrow passage through the center. As there had been no traffic on the Zinbar Trail, campfires were set in the middle of the road, and nightly contests commenced a short while later. Edmond sat between the two couples from over the sea, as had become his custom. The head warrior spent a good deal of time speaking of his life and his travels. It was the type of conversation that the Knights of Alcea needed to hear if they were to pass themselves off as people from Zara, and Edmond enjoyed the retelling of his youthful adventures. Garth learned that Edmond had seen most of the developed portions of Zara, and he held a wealth of information that he was not even aware of.
"What of the horse countries?" asked Garth. "Did you ever visit them?"
"No," replied Edmond. "They are the only countries that I have not been to."
"Surely you are mistaken," interrupted Kalina. "Weren't you born and raised in Tyronia?"
"I was indeed born in Tyronia," Edmond grinned widely as he knew that Sidney had probably boasted of his homeland to Kalina, "but I was mostly raised on the road with my father's caravans. Sidney likes to think of Tyronia as one of the horse countries, as most Tyronians do, but they are the only ones who believe that. The Tyronians do supply most of the world with their horseflesh, but that is only because the horses of the horse countries are not available. The horses from Zarocca and Korocca are magnificent beasts to behold. I would give a year's wages to own one, but I would never find a willing seller to please me."
"Why is that?" Natia asked as the conversation turned to her favorite subject.
"Since the day that the ground shook," answered Edmond, "there is no real access to the horse countries. In fact, there used to be a third horse country named Sirocca, but it was obliterated in an instant. Where Sirocca once stood is now the Sands of Eternity. It is a vast desolate desert with sand dunes that tower higher than these trees over our heads."
"The Collapse," Kalina said in awe. "The loss of life must have been devastating."
"I was not around when it happened," replied Edmond, "but I have heard the tales of the old men in the cities. Thousands of people in the two major cities of Sirocca disappeared without a trace. Their herds of magnificent horses were obliterated, and the only road to the other two horse countries was buried under a league of sand. Even the course of rivers was changed that day. The Aranak River used to flow through the city of Aranak before ending in Giza. With Aranak buried under the sand, the river changed its course and now empties into the Zinbar River halfway between Zinbar and Giza. Some of the people who managed to survive the devastation that day built a new city where the two rivers intersect. Olansk is now the second largest city in Aerta."
"Surely there must be a way around the desert?" Natia asked hopefully.
"There is none," Edmond replied sadly. "The desert stretches clear from the Forest of Death to the ocean. Sirocca's second major city, Cyranak, used to be a major port on the ocean. It too is buried deep under the sands of the desert."
"The Forest of Death?" asked Tedi. "Why can't they build a road throu
gh there?"
"You must never enter the Forest of Death," Edmond warned in a serious tone. "It is a place where evil dwells. Very few people have left the Forest of Death after entering it, and all of them were stricken with a madness so severe that they died shortly after leaving the woods. Most of them committed suicide, but a few were executed when they embarked upon murderous rampages."
"That sounds like a place we need to investigate," stated Kalina.
"You must not," Edmond pleaded, his voice increasing in pitch and tone. "These stories are not told to scare children. The stories are true. Evil spirits and demonic creatures inhabit the Forest of Death. I have spoken to men who lost loved ones to the forest, and just the loss drove them close to insanity. People who lived near the edges of the forest spoke of living trees and rocks as if the very land was alive. You must not risk your lives with such foolishness. How will the information that you have gathered so far reach those who need to hear it if you are dead?"
Garth was concerned about continuing the conversation about the Forest of Death, and he decided to move onward.
"What about the sea?" Garth asked. "Surely, the horse countries can be reached by ship?"
"Korocca does have a city on the coast," Edmond replied, his tenseness beginning to ease. "Herinak is not much of a port, though. I am told that fishermen ply the waters of the river delta, but the shifting sands make navigating the harbor very dangerous for a ship of any size. I do not think that any Federation ships make a regular journey to Korocca, but there is a monthly boat from Tyronia. It is a small craft run by a merchant who supplies luxury items to the horse countries, but even it does not go as far as Herinak."
Final Voyage of the Remora Page 37
