The Dark and Forbidding Land

by Wesley Allison

  “That’s right. If he’d called Hertzal a dog in front of me, I would have popped him in the breadbox.” The quickest way to anger Graham was to threaten his friends. “Besides, Ma’s grown quite fond of Honor, really. They’re in the Ladies’ Auxiliary together.”

  They arrived at the Hertling home in short order, but when they knocked on the door there was no answer.

  “You don’t suppose they’re at shrine, do you?” wondered Graham, looking around.

  “Only if they’re the only ones.” Senta pointed to neighbors working on their houses or in their yards, all of whom were Zaeri.

  A moment later though, the mystery was solved. The three Hertling siblings came walking down the road from the east. Hero and Hertzal carried large baskets filled with foliage, while their older sister had something that looked like a cricket bat casually slung over her shoulder. The twins saw their friends and waved, calling out greetings. Hero ran ahead and Senta met her at the road, giving her a great hug. Though he waved to his friends, Graham’s eyes were fixed on the instrument that Honor carried. When she was close enough that he could see it clearly, he found that it was not a cricket bat at all, but a lizzie sword. The main hand to hand combat weapon of the lizardmen was a thick sword made of wood but encrusted all around the edges with flint, obsidian, or sometimes even shark’s teeth. This one had shiny black obsidian flakes that appeared razor sharp.

  “Where’d you get that?” asked Graham enviously.

  “It was a gift,” Honor replied. “The chief of Tserich gave one to each of the members of the Colonial Council. I imagine most of them are hanging on display somewhere, but I like to carry mine when I have to go away from the town.”

  “So where have you all been then?” asked Senta.

  “We went to gather winter berries,” replied Hero.

  “Perfect, we can have them for tea.”

  “Oh, you can’t eat them,” said Honor. “They’re for decoration only.”

  “We had loads of them hanging all around our house,” said Graham. “But it’s way past Kafira Mass now.”

  Senta shot him a frown.

  “What?”

  “As a matter of fact,” continued Honor. “I got the idea from your mother, Graham. I think the red and green will brighten up the house and as I understand it, according to Brech tradition, they are often kept over the winter and not just on, um… holidays.”

  “Can we go inside now,” asked Hero. “I’m just frozen.”

  Honor opened the front door and they all stepped inside the home, which was only marginally warmer than the outside. Hertzal, with Graham help, got right to work lighting a fire in the stove, while the girls went into the other room and exchanged damp clothing for dry and wrapped up in thick blankets. Hero lent Senta one of her two housedresses, which was only slightly baggy and only slightly too short. The boys removed only their boots and socks, which they dried by the stove once the fire was going, but Hero brought each of them a blanket, and in a few minutes they too were feeling warm and cozy. The four ten-year-olds sat around the stove, Senta and Hero sharing a chair, while Honor placed the green branches filled with red berries festively around the small room.

  “I brought bread and butter for tea,” said Graham at last.

  “That’s his way of telling you that he’s hungry,” said Senta.

  “No it isn’t.”

  “That’s lovely Graham,” said Honor. “I was going to make some butter this week, but we’ve all been so busy that I just haven’t found the time. Hero, come help me prepare tea.”

  “Let me help instead,” said Senta. “Hero’s not warmed up yet.”

  “I’m fine, really,” said Hero, though she made no move to unwrap the blanket from around her.

  “It would not be passend… um, proper. You are a guest in our house.”

  “Please.”

  “Very well then. Join me in the kitchen.”

  Joining Honor in the kitchen meant taking three steps from where she was. Once there, Senta helped the eldest Hertling by slicing the bread that Graham had brought, which was then toasted on the stove. Then they sliced cheese and apples and sausages, and these were served along with the toast and tea at the table.

  “What has you so busy this week,” asked Senta, when they were halfway through the meal.

  “Hmm?”

  “What has you so busy that you weren’t able to make butter.”

  “Besides council business,” replied Honor, “I’m spending quite a bit of time at the base trying to help those poor people off the ships get themselves situated. I barely have time to see to Hero and Hertzal’s schooling, let alone make butter or darn clothes. Fortunately my brother and sister have stepped up to do their part.”

  “I could help.”

  “That won’t be necessary, I’m sure. Besides, you must have plenty of your own work to keep you busy.”

  “Not really,” said Senta. “Everything pretty much gets magiced at our house.”

  “That must be nice,” said Honor dryly.

  “Is that why you don’t like me much then?”

  Honor silently opened and closed her mouth twice before she found her voice. “Who said I don’t like you? What gave you that idea?”

  “Nobody said it. It just seems that way.”

  “Did I do something when you were here last week to make you think that I didn’t like you?”

  “No.”

  “I do like you Senta.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really…um… well I suppose that I’m a little bit frightened of you.”

  “Frightened of me?”

  “Yes. Everyone is to some extent.”

  “I’m not,” said Graham, his mouth full of sausages.

  “Most people are,” continued Honor. “You have your own dragon. You can do magic. People have seen you do some pretty amazing things, and now there’s a story that you killed two utahraptors with a lightning bolt.”

  “It was only one,” said Graham, and then swallowed. “And I helped.”

  “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” Senta turned to the twins.

  Hertzal shook his head.

  “Not really. Only when you do magic,” said Hero in a small voice. “But it’s exciting too.”

  After the meal, Honor left for town, carrying her lizzie sword with her. The four children gathered back around the stove, this time with steaming cups of cocoa.

  “Alright,” said Graham. “Tell us about this secret mission.”

  “What secret mission?” wondered Hero.

  “Well, you all know that I’ve had a couple of run-ins with that Freedonian”

  The other three nodded.

  “Zurfina wants me to find out exactly how powerful he is. She told me that if he proves to be a threat, I have to neutralize him.”

  “They only do that to cows and pigs,” said Graham. “Not people.”

  “I said neutralize him—not neuter him.”

  “Oh.”

  “And,” continued Senta. “Another party has asked me to keep an eye on him too.”

  “Was it the governor?” asked Graham. “You know she’s scarier than you are.”

  “No, it wasn’t Mrs. Government, but you’re close.”

  “This really is frightening,” said Hero. “I’ll help if I can though.”

  Hertzal nodded.

  “I’ll let you know when I need you,” said Senta. “In the meantime, if you see Streck around town, keep an eye on him and let me know if he’s up to something strange.”

  When Graham and Senta left the Hertling home and walked back toward Town Square, Senta was quiet.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I didn’t know everyone was frightened of me,” she said.

  “Well get used to it. If you become a really powerful sorceress like Zurfina, everyone will be scared of you.”

  “Even you?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Graham. “Obviously I’m not going to be scared.”r />
  “Not even a little bit?”

  “My Da say’s that all men are a little afraid of women. But only that much and no more.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.

  They parted ways in Town Square, as usual simply turning down different paths without a wave or a verbal “goodbye.” Noticing that Finkler’s Bakery was open, Senta started across the square toward it. She wasn’t hungry, having just finished tea, but was interested to see what service at Port Dechantagne’s first eating establishment looked like. Halfway there she suddenly stumbled, sprawling across the gravel, wet and muddy with melted snow and scratchy with rock salt and jagged pebbles. Looking toward her feet, she spied a large rock that had obviously been the cause of her tumble. But how could she have missed it? Looking toward the pfennig store, she saw Streck laughing heartily. Jumping to her feet, she aimed a spell at him.

  “Uuthanum,” she said, and six or seven gallons of water appeared in the air above the Freedonian’s head, dousing him.

  Senta could see him mouthing the magic word even though she couldn’t hear it. Her feet flew out from beneath her, plopping her onto her bottom in the wet gravel. She fired right back, causing the pfennig store door to fly open, smacking Streck in the back of the head. With a shout in Freedonian that was no doubt profane, he made half a dozen determined strides toward her before remembering himself and coming to a stop in the middle of the square.

  “Why don’t you shoot a lightning bolt?” he called to her. “Or perhaps a fireball?”

  “I don’t want to burn down Mr. Parnorsham’s store.”

  He sneered, then raised both hands toward her and said. “Talik Uuthanum.”

  It was the first magic above the most basic cantrip that Senta had seen him do, and because the spell was an unfamiliar one, she didn’t know what to expect.

  “Prestus Uuthanum,” she said, throwing a shield up around herself. She felt the magic bounce off and she saw Streck’s eyes widen. She mentally flipped through the spells with which she could counter-attack, but she didn’t use any of them. She waited to see what he would do. He stared at her for a moment, and then turning on his heel, he strode swiftly from the Town Square.

  “Too right,” she called after him. “And don’t come back.”

  Brushing off her coat, Senta turned to see about twenty people watching her from in front of the bakery. Their expressions were not difficult to read. There was concern, curiosity, and yes there was definitely fear. Some turned and went about their business, but most continued to watch her as she slowly crossed the square toward them.

  “How’s the food?” she asked, when she was just a few steps away.

  “It is of course, excellent,” said Aalwijn Finkler, stepping forward from the back of the group. “Would you like me to wrap up a couple of sandwiches and some soup for you to take home for dinner?”

  “Um, I don’t have any money.”

  “I will be happy to extend you credit.”

  “Alright then.”

  Senta waited outside the bakery, half watching to see if Streck would return. By the time Aalwijn came out with a small box loaded with wrapped packages of food, most of the gawkers were gone.

  “I added a nice large piece of strudel—my gift for anyone who fights the Reine Zauberei.”

  “So you know about them, eh?”

  “There has been much talk of them and of him, among the Zaeri colonists.”

  “Well, don’t get your corset in a twist. He’s just a wanker.”

  “No doubt,” agreed Aalwijn. “But they are bad, very bad, and I’m worried about more of them coming here. You could have done more magic on him, couldn’t you? Your magic is better, yes?”

  Senta made a derisive sound. “You just watch and see. I’m going to teach him a little something about real magic.

  When Senta got home, she saw no sign of either Zurfina or Bessemer. She put the food away and went upstairs to take a long hot bath. The large claw-foot bathtub sat across the room from her bed and quickly filled with hot, scented water. Undressing, Senta submerged herself up to her nose and floated until her fingers and toes turned prune-like. Afterwards she slipped into her silk nightdress, even though it was not yet dinnertime. When she went downstairs, she found the lower level toasty warm from the stove, and the aroma of baking food filling the air. Zurfina sat nude in the comfy chair, one leg slung over the arm. Her clothing hung near the stove. Bessemer was curled up in his corner, but his eyes were wide open.

  “Hey,” said Senta.

  “The whole family together,” said her guardian. “We must celebrate.”

  “Who started the fire?”

  “I did,” said Bessemer.

  “Are you cooking too?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Zurfina. “I’m baking a turkey pot pie.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you could bake.”

  “I can bake it; though I had someone else assemble it.”

  “Well it smells good. I brought sandwiches though.”

  “We can eat them and save the pie for tomorrow.”

  “Turkey pot pie,” said the dragon.

  “Fine. We will save the sandwiches for tomorrow.”

  “I finally saw Streck do some real magic,” Senta informed the sorceress, stepping from the staircase to the stove. “Not very impressive, but at least the real thing.”

  “I thought I detected some art earlier. Which spell did he cast?”

  “It’s one I didn’t know. I blocked it, so I didn’t feel its effect. He said ‘Talik Uuthanum’, and the magic looked like this.” Senta drew a shape in the air with her finger.

  “What do you mean, ‘the magic looked like this’?” asked Zurfina, getting up from the chair and walking across the room to her.

  “That’s what the magic looked like when it came out of him.”

  “You could see it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, you are a precious girl,” said Zurfina, wrapping her arms around Senta and pulling her close.

  “Thanks,” said Senta, enjoying the rare closeness for a moment. Then she realized that her face was pressed into Zurfina’s bare and ample bosom. “That’s enough. I don’t like hugging a naked woman.”

  “Really? Mr. Jex informs me that he quite enjoys it.”

  “Well, I’m not Mr. Jex,” said Senta, rolling her eyes. “And who the hell is Mr. Jex?”

  “He’s a new friend. He arrived on the ship last week.”

  “Never mind, I don’t want to know. So what was it?”

  “What was what?”

  “What was the spell that Streck tried to use on me?”

  “Oh, that was a simple fear spell. It’s quite low if you ask me. I much prefer it when people are naturally afraid of me.”

  “Talking of which, were you aware that people are afraid of me too?”

  “Are they?”

  Senta nodded.

  “Well, congratulations.”

  “Only I’m not sure if I want them to be afraid of me.”

  “Of course you do. That’s the best part about being a sorceress. Now be a good pet and take that pie out of the oven in, oh, say twenty minutes. I’m going to take my bath and then we can all partake at the table.”

  Whether Zurfina meant it that way or not, Senta took her words to be an indicator that she should set the table. As she laid out the place settings for three, she turned to the steel dragon.

  “What have you been doing then?”

  “Watching.”

  “Watching what?”

  “Watching people.”

  “Watching what people?”

  The dragon lifted up his head and propped it up on the palm of his hand, making Senta laugh. If he had only been peering over a pair of glasses, he would have looked very human indeed.

  “Watching the people in town,” he carefully enunciated, ignoring Senta’s laughter.

  “What are you doing that for then?”

  “To learn.”

  “To lea
rn what?”

  “Talking.”

  “Graham is right. You talk a lot already, especially considering you’re only two years old. You’re saying whole sentences.”

  The turkey pot pie was delicious, filled with large chunks of turkey, steaming gravy, tender potatoes, onions, and carrots, and topped by a thick flaky crust. It was baked in a cast iron skillet fourteen inches in diameter, from which Senta and Zurfina each cut two large wedges for themselves. Bessemer ate the remaining fifty percent himself, repeating “turkey pot pie” to himself several times. Afterwards, the dragon went back to his corner, the sorceress went upstairs to her room, and Senta cleaned up the dishes and then went to bed.

  The next morning Senta headed out onto the peninsula to the dockyard. The Windermere was due to leave port and she expected to run into Graham, who liked to watch the ships sail in and out whenever he could. As she passed the rows of apartments that stood just southeast of the bay, she noticed people staring at her. She had over the past year and a half, grown used to the attention she received. But it seemed now even more people stopped to watch her. And now she noticed fear in all their eyes, whether or not it had been there before. She didn’t find Graham at the docks, but those people that were there all seemed to be watching her. Even the lizzies kept one of their yellow eyes on her at all times.

  “Hey Senta,” said a voice behind her.

  Senta turned around to find Corporal Saba Colbshallow. He too had a strange expression on his face. Not fear. Maybe concern or anger. Maybe both.

  “What’s up?”

  “I heard about your row with Streck. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to teach him a lesson. The nerve of him picking on a girl.” Senta was at least glad he didn’t say “little girl” or “child”.

  “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  “Sure you can. Sure you can. Well, I’m going to the bakery and try their food for lunch. Would you care to join me?”

  “I’m not hungry. I had a Finkler’s sandwich for breakfast,” said Senta. “On the other hand, I don’t have anything to do here except be stared at.”

  Saba looked around. “Well, you’ve got to expect it a bit, decked out like you are.”

  Senta’s outfit fit a theme that Zurfina apparently enjoyed—a floor length black dress with a white collar and a black ceramic rose right below her chin. Black gloves and a black bonnet completed the outfit and combined to make her already light complexion look very pale.