by T. A. Uner
Tullus nodded inquisitively. “I’ve learned more about the Paladins in this one sitting than in the past twenty years combined.”
Hradack continued, “Each Paladin was taught the basic rules of Elemence. Each Elder created spells for defense and offense. After each spell was created, part of the essence of each Elder was passed onto the spell to give it its identity. So, when you cast a spell, the essence of the Elder who created it flows through you.”
When Tullus looked at Hradack strangely, the old man laughed. “This must all seem overwhelming to you. But in time everything will all make sense.”
“Was Paullus an Air Paladin?”
Hradack laughed again. “Gods, no. He didn’t have Gift. But that didn’t stop him from trying to learn all he could about the old ways and prepare you for your training with me.”
“I still think about him from time to time,” Tullus said.
“You did Rome a great service by ridding the world of Camus Scorpio.”
How could Hradack know that? I never told him.
Tullus stood up. “Have you been reading my thoughts?”
“Yes,” Hradack replied. “Forgive me. But you looked troubled. I felt if I knew the root of the problem that I could offer a solution.”
Tullus shrugged. “I still don’t know if you can help me, Hradack. I have many questions that require answers.”
“Life isn’t always about answers, Tullus. Sometimes the questions themselves can Enlighten us. And this,” Hradack said, stretching his arms out, “is a place to ask them.”
“You speak in riddles Hradack; I was raised as a soldier, not a philosopher.”
Hradack stood up. “I think it is time for your next lesson.”
{II}
“I think you should know, Hradack, horses are not my favorite creatures,” Tullus said. Hradack had brought him inside the stable until they stood in front of a stall where a great white horse stood. Its eye alight with stars.
Another Incantra?
Tullus eyed the creature with disdain. It had a frost coat and muscular forearms supporting its legs; a brown star marked its forehead beneath a dusty white forelock of hair, while its dock help up a long, thick tail that twitched nervously.
“Nonsense. Horses have been around longer than people. Wonderful animals. I have a saying, 'Horses are people too'.”
“Haven’t ridden one since I was a child, and don’t care to ride one ever again.”
“Is that so? Time to change that.” Hradack opened the stall door and the horse bristled. “This is Bruticus, Tullus.” The horse looked at Tullus disdainfully and whickered, while the stars in its eyes pulsed.
“Hello, Bruticus,” Tullus said. “Can we go now, Hradack?”
“Tullus, please. Come inside the stall; get to know Bruticus better.”
“I think where I’m standing is close enough.”
“I insist.”
Tullus sighed and inched into the stall. The images of his childhood seeped from his memory.
The stall. The kicking brown horse. His screams.
He shook his head and pushed the memories back into his past.
“Tullus?”
“No…no…I don’t want to….”
He was in that stall again. A bucket of oats lay in a corner. He was crying out for help. He felt so ashamed. The brown horse reared back, its front legs kicking. “No.”
He drew LeopardClaw and thrust it at Bruticus. It startled the white stallion and it whickered restlessly.
“Tullus what are you doing?”
In the background Celestra and Mithras growled their concern.
“Stay away from me, beast,” Tullus yelled as he began waving LeopardClaw threateningly at Bruticus. The horse snorted and shook his head.
Tullus backed away from Bruticus who reared up and whickered again, foam dripping from his mouth.
“Think with your head, Tullus, not with your sword!”
Tullus could not get the image out of his head. But after a few moments, he lowered LeopardClaw and focused on his breathing, erasing that fateful day which began his lifelong disdain of horses. As air flowed in and out of his lungs, the memory began fading, until the only remaining image was him and Bruticus.
“Bruticus is scared too,” Hradack said.
Tullus inched closer to Bruticus. He sheathed LeopardClaw. Slowly, Bruticus’ neighing and kicking ceased. The horse stared at him through starry eyes before Tullus decided to reach out and touch him. Bruticus’s skin felt like soft leather and as Tullus stared into his mirror eyes, the pulsating stars calmed, much like Celestra’s did when her anger ceased. He stroked Bruticus’ back, the horse bobbed its head up and down playfully. Then Bruticus grinned sheepishly (if that was possible for a horse), revealing a set of straight, white teeth.
“It appears you made a new friend,” Hradack said.
Tullus smiled at Hradack. “I cannot believe…he’s…friendly.”
“That’s the most tranquil state I’ve ever seen that horse. I guess he needed the right person to come along,” Hradack replied.
“It seems I learn something new about myself every day.”
“It’s all a part of the human adventure, Tullus.”
Sensing an opportunity to cement his relationship with Bruticus, Tullus was eager to test his horsemanship.“Where’s his saddle?” Tullus asked. Hradack nodded at Vespillo who had been observing from the shadows. The Pygmy brought over riding gear and Tullus saddled Bruticus before leading him outside from his reins. Outside the cool, crisp air awoke something within him that had lay dormant for years. Endless possibilities existed. He climbed onto Bruticus’s back and Celestra padded up to him. Instinctively Tullus prodded Bruticus’ flanks, urging the great horse forward before they took off like a chariot.
Behind him he heard Hradack’s laughter howling like wind. “Ride Tullus! Ride like the Gods!” he called out. As Bruticus picked up speed he caught a glimpse of Celestra.
She streaked alongside him, a comet of gold and black rosettes.
I guess now she won’t get angry when I can’t keep up with her on foot, Tullus thought.
Bruticus’s speed continued to increase until Tullus felt one with the horse. The wind’s resistance became irrelevant as they raced along a road extending from Hradack’s stead, passing a reed-filled field were stalks waved at Tullus and the two Incantras.
Bruticus’ mane danced across his shoulders as Tullus felt the mighty creature’s muscles working tirelessly pushing itself to its limit and beyond.
Seeing his new friend lathered from the run, Tullus slowed Bruticus to a walk before they stopped under a barren tree to rest a few moments. Afterwards they headed back to the stead.
Tullus was eager to share his riding experience with Hradack.
{III}
The tiny cabin Norbanus shared with the livestock smelled like a sack of arseholes, but after a day or so he had grown accustomed to the foul stench. Taurus had rigged a hammock for him in the corner of the hold where he was greeted by the doleful stares of the filthy beasts. Bulls, cows, donkeys, and mangy horses that looked so old their heads were always sagging as they slept standing up.
Can my life get any worse? he thought. Perhaps I should have stayed in Rhegium and continued to fuck that barmaid. There at least he wouldn’t be smelling shit and breathing cow farts every moment. The door to the room banged open and Taurus walked in carrying a trencher of gruel and a flagon of wine.
“How yoo be doin’, Nor’ba’nuz?” he asked before placing the trencher on a small table squeezed into the corner of Norbanus’s living space.
“Apart from the constant shifting of this ship beneath my feet and the noise from my smelly four-legged companions, quite fine really,” Norbanus said. He seated himself at the table and eyed the thick, sloppy gruel and dried oat bread before him.
“Nobody told yer it wud’ be an easy voy’agz to Tunis. Besides ye got yer wish. We’re goin’ ta Africa, where tre’sures a’wait.”
&
nbsp; “So you say,” Norbanus said as he drank from the flagon while a streak of wine dribbled down his chin. He wiped his mouth and tucked into the gruel. It tasted much better than the sardines he had eaten yesterday. They had given him a mild case of dysentery he would rather forget.
“It was yer idea to come with us, Sir. Itz not like the cap’tin forced yer ta go ter’ Africa.”
“When will I be able to come on deck?”
Taurus picked a tick from his hair, flicked it away, and grinned. “Ohh, ye best be safer down here, Nor’ba’nuz. Capt’in says wer still in the storm. Would be diff’cult for ya. Ye might git sea sik’nis.” Taurus laughed.
The Sea Sparrow bounced up and down. Norbanus spilled a glob of gruel on his breeches while Taurus looked out the window. “Storm’z getting wil’der. Best I left yer ter yer food.” He ambled off while the animals began emitting noises that reeked of fear.
Norbanus cursed his luck. Well I’m not going to let some shit-head lackey tell me where I can and cannot go. He finished the wine and staggered over toward the pens. Around him, cows continued to emit loud noises while the bulls and horses snorted and bucked wildly in their stalls. Norbanus trudged up the staircase until he came to a door. This must lead to the deck, he thought. The door rattled and he heard loud whistling noises coming from under it. A puddle of water had formed on the top step.
When Norbanus opened the door he was hit with a powerful gust of wind that nearly blew him backwards. He gripped the wooden handrail and climbed onto the main deck. A rush of cold water doused his chest as salty drops dripped from his lips. “Fuck!” He heard men yelling and scrambling around on the deck as Sea Sparrow continued to pitch up and down.
“Hey! You!” called out one of the older sailors, “we could use some assistance here!”
“I’m not a sailor!” Norbanus replied before two deckhands grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him toward the sailor. Norbanus felt a surge of anger rising in his chest before he broke free of their grip. Around him waves pounded the sides of the ship and spilled on deck. He felt his feet sliding out from under him, the water was slippery as oil. Within a few moments he was already drenched, his body felt like it had been dipped into an icy pond. Above him the sails of Sea Sparrow resembled tattered strips of fabric as they fluttered violently in the storm’s gale.
“If you don’t help us we’ll all die here!” the old sailor said into Norbanus’s ear as a gust of wind nearly knocked him down again. “Help us get the new sail up the mizzen-mast.”
Norbanus grimaced. It appeared he had little choice. He followed the sailor’s order; his drenched clothes made it difficult to walk as they weighed him down. He arrived at the mizzen-mast where two other men were trying to rig the sail. Captain Scamios was barking orders behind them.
“The old sail blew off!” the old sailor said into Norbanus’s ear. “We have to get this new one secured!”
He handed Norbanus a bolt rope and told him to thread it through the holes of the sail. Norbanus cursed the water that hit him in the side of the ear, filling it with water.
What did I do to deserve the gods' wrath? he wondered.
Another gust of wind hit him and blew the sail out of his hands. He yelled, cursing the names of all the gods as his head hit the side of the Sea Sparrow’s rails. He felt warm piss running down his frozen legs before he was punched into the sea by another fist of water which threw him into the ocean.
He was plunged into a world of darkness as he felt his body numbing. Soon he had lost all feeling in his limbs. His lungs filled with water and he felt them expand until he could not breathe anymore.
So this is how I am to die? Drowned to death? Perhaps my cock will serve as a meal for a sturgeon.
Just as his brain was shutting down, he felt something rising in his chest, like a newborn flame, as if someone had lit a fire within him. His recent failures made him burn with rage. He wished he could disappear from this watery grave and find himself inside a warm bed with a naked courtesan waiting for him. Yes. He channeled his anger into his final wish. After all, what other choice did he have?
He felt his limbs heating up as a surge of Vigor tore through his body. Yes. He could see it. Red Vigor. It gave him power. The first bit of power since Caligula had banished him. Since the Leopard King had made a fool of him. He moved his fingers and hands, then, tried his feet and toes. Moments later, he felt himself dissolving before the fire enveloped him.
{IV}
His eyes opened. Slowly. Painfully. Eyelids and nostrils, sore. He gazed at the ceiling and eyed a taper swooning above him. He took a deep breath. Even that hurt. He lifted his head up. Sitting across from his bed in a wicker chair was Captain Scamios.
“Good morning, Norbanus.” Scamios stood up and walked over toward Norbanus. He rang a small brass bell and a man in a white smock, peppered with brown bloodstains, shuffled in. He stared at Norbanus as if he had never seen a human before.
“Can you speak?” asked Scamios. Norbanus tried to open his mouth. He couldn’t.
What happened to me? He remembered getting blown off the deck of the Sea Sparrow. Then his body heating up. Images of the Leopard King. Then. Nothing. His temples throbbed as he tried piecing together what had happened.
“Well, if you cannot talk then best I speak for you.” Scamios cleared his throat and spat a line of phlegm into a small spittoon next to Norbanus’s bed. “My crew claim you were blown over the side of the ship.”
Norbanus nodded. He hated lying in this bed. Docile. Like a trapped sheep waiting to become someone’s mutton. The anger he had felt when he was drowning returned; a silent fury stirred within his chest. Burning. It felt good and the pain in his body receded. He moved his lips and mumbled, “Yes. I was.”
Scamios’ eyes expanded before they returned to their former, tranquil state. He asked the man in the smock to leave. After the door closed they were alone again.
“I’m glad to see you’ve found your voice again.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
Scamios smiled. “Shortly after you were blown off of the ship, one of my men found you sprawled out on the deck, unconscious. Care to tell me how you managed that?”
“How long was I unconscious?” Norbanus repeated, suddenly jerking out of bed.
“Two days. You’ve been resting here since. The ship’s medicus cannot find anything wrong with you physically. Except when my men first found you they claimed you were glowing.”
Glowing?
“Where are we?”
“Less than a day out of port. My crew managed to get us back on course after we survived the storm. We shall arrive at our destination soon.”
Norbanus stood up from his bed. “Good.” He felt his soreness rescind.
“Are you a sorcerer?” Scamios asked.
Perhaps I am, Norbanus thought. He laughed. When he did his body hurt all over again. Damn I felt fine a few moments ago. What is happening?
“I still would like to know how you managed to get back on board after getting blown off deck.”
Fuck if I know myself. But I need to say something. Or else they may suspect that I am a sorcerer. The last thing I need is to be under suspicion for heresy.
“I was stationed by the mizzen-mast. You can ask your men, I was helping them. As a precautionary measure, I tied a piece of rope around my waist, to keep me secured to the mast,” Norbanus lied. “Soon afterwards I was hit by the wave, but the rope kept me secured to the ship. Instead of going overboard, I bounced against the hull and managed to swing myself over onto the deck. After that, one of your men found me and helped me get below deck.”
Scamios studied Norbanus.
Will he believe my fabricated story? Norbanus wondered.
The captain smiled. “Of course. Of course. That what must’ve happened. And for a moment I thought you were a sorcerer!”
He smiled back at the Captain.
Perhaps I am.
Norbanus gathered his belongings as the
Sea Sparrow made its final sprint toward the quay. He made his way out of his make-shift quarters below deck and cast a final glance at his animal companions.
Goodbye you four-legged shit fiends.
He hurried up the stairs to the main deck.
As Sea Sparrow began docking procedures near the wharf, Norbanus felt it come to a halt as it settled against the dock. The crew were yelling at one another to secure the ship’s lines to the quay’s wooden mooring bollards as they scurried around like ants, each tending to their respective tasks. Norbanus eyed the port. What awaited him here in North Africa? Treasure? Or more failure? Would he find allies? Or more enemies? Maybe death.
“We’ve arrived at Tunis. I’m glad we could safely get you to your destination.”
Norbanus turned around. Behind him was Scamios looking at him with a curious look in his eye.
Yes. I’m glad I no longer have to live aboard this fucking ship. But I will miss smelling animal shit night and day. Ohh, and how could I forget nearly pissing myself every time this rickety scow bounced upon the waves.
“I guess this is where I take my leave,” Norbanus said. Scamios extended his hand which he shook, reluctantly.
“Farewell, Norbanus. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Norbanus nodded and headed for the gangplank. As he descended it, he saw Taurus speaking to one of the other sailors. Their eyes met.
“Good luk’ Nor’ba’nuz,” he said, and when Taurus smiled he revealed a set of moldy, yellow teeth.
As Norbanus walked along the pier, a gull squawked and danced above him. He made his way inside the wharf where people were making their rounds. Some walked orderly, while others pushed against one another.
