by Tom Liberman
With that the four rode out of Black Dale to the cheers of the spectators although in the background many other people went about their business with barely even a look up at the commotion.
“How far is it to the mountains?” said Sorus as he rode next to Jon while Germanius went ahead with Mikus.
“Not more than two days of easy riding,” said the tall knight with a heartfelt smile for the young brewer. “Getting nervous already?”
“No, not at all,” said Sorus and sat up taller in the saddle although Jon still towered over him.
“It’s all right to be scared,” said Jon. “My father says that everyone is a coward before the battle but that once the fighting starts you find your inner strength.”
“Really,” said Sorus. “Are you afraid?”
“Well, I’m not all that sure there is anything to be afraid of up in the mountains. It was near the peak when I spotted the strange markings on the rock. They sort of looked like a crocodile and that’s something I’m here to talk to the First Rider about.”
“A crocodile?” said Mikus his faze screwed up in puzzlement, “In the mountains? That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“It might make a great deal of sense,” said Jon quietly and looked ahead to Mikus and Germanius who cantered a few hundred yards ahead. “The old man rides well.”
“What do you mean it might make sense,” said Sorus. “You came here for a reason, but then the mayor wouldn’t listen to you, and now you haven’t said anything to anyone in the rest of the time you’ve been here. Why did you come to Elakargul?”
Jon looked at Sorus for a moment and then nodded his square jawed head, “I trust you, Sorus, but I don’t feel the same way about Mikus.”
“I understand,” said the young brewer, “But Mikus is ok, his dad is a bit of an ass, but Mikus just wants to be a knight. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“If you say so,” said Jon. “I also don’t really trust Germanius,” he went on.
“What?” said Sorus. “He’s a fine knight and as trustworthy as they come. His generation, they take being a knight very seriously although there aren’t many left his age. Most die in battle, that’s the way of our people.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust his integrity but he’s old. If I say something to him about my real mission and he lets it slip to Thorius or one of his allies that might hurt my chances of doing what needs to be done,” said Jon his face somber as his eyes looked ahead to the old man.
“What is it that needs to get done?” said Sorus and pulled his little horse next to Jon’s. “You can tell me, I’m on your side.”
Jon nodded his head, “I know, I know. My father is a stubborn man and he thinks things must be a certain way.”
“He built an entire city, right?” said Sorus.
“He founded it at least. He traveled the world slaying monsters, saving maidens, doing all sorts of heroic deeds and then he just decided that it … it was futile.”
“How can doing heroic things be futile?” said Sorus. “That is what any man wants to do, be a hero, save the girl, get married, have sex!”
“I hear you,” said Jon as a smile crept onto his face. “That Shia is quite a little beauty.”
“Yeah,” said Sorus. “But you saw who she baked cookies for, you. She’ll only marry a knight and not some stupid brewer boy.”
“But, you can be knight if you’re brave enough. Germanius can knight you,” said Jon.
“I know, but sometimes I think I’m not cut out for all of this. I like brewing and I get scared. Maybe I’m just not meant to be a hero,” said Sorus, hanging his head, and patting his horse on the neck.
“Bird droppings,” said Jon. “You don’t know if you’re going to be a hero until you face real danger for the first time. Some people who think they are brave run away and the ones who are scared stand up and fight. My first time in battle I was a bit younger than you, we were fighting remnants of the Five Nations after the war, cleaning up pockets of resistance. My father took me along and I was so scared I peed myself,” went on Jon and noticed the look of astonishment on Sorus’s face. “Yep, it’s true. But, when the fight started, I pulled out my sword and did my duty. Once you’ve been heroic it’s easier the next time. It’s like that with everything. If you’re a coward the first time it’s hard to break out of the habit.”
“So, this first time will be my test?” said Sorus looking at Jon with wide eyes but a firm jaw.
“Well, you can always redeem yourself even after failing,” said Jon. “You have those Brokenshield fellows here in Elekargul, right? They get stripped of their knighthood for cowardice but they can get it back.”
“Mostly they give up their knighthood because they can’t perform the duties. It’s usually to raise children when their wives die in childbirth but sometimes it happens because of cowardice, you’re right Jon,” said Sorus, looking up into the morning sky as the ground slowly went past. “But, what about your father giving up being a hero, does that have anything to do with you being here?”
Jon smiled, “My father started lecturing me when I was still in the crib, so I’ve heard the stories many times. My father, he set out to save the world, to be a hero, to destroy evil, and bring good to everyone. He did that for a few years after he left home when he wasn’t much older than you. He traveled with some other fellows, a paladin of the sun god, a nature wizard, a rogue, sort of your typical adventuring party.”
“Then what happened,” said Sorus as he leaned forward in his saddle, eyes darting back and forth between Jon and the road ahead.
“They killed a blue dragon that was terrorizing a village,” said Jon, “and when they went back to its lair there was a baby blue in the nest.”
“Did they kill it?” said Sorus.
“Well, my father’s friend, the paladin, wanted to kill it. He said it was evil by its very nature but my father thought they could raise it, or turn it over to someone to be raised, and it could be a force of good. There was a big argument,” said Jon. “At least that’s the story I’ve been told.”
“What happened?” said Sorus.
“They agreed to turn it over to someone they knew, a woman who was good with animals. That night the paladin slew the thing in its cage, slaughtered it,” said Jon. “The next morning when my father found out he got into a fight with the paladin but lost and was almost killed. My father’s friend, the druid, Tarragonius, intervened and saved him. After that my father and Tarragonius left the others and set out on their own.”
“Blue dragons are evil, at least that’s the way it is down here in the south,” said Sorus. “I kind of see where the paladin was coming from; I don’t mean to say anything bad about your father,” went on the young brewer one hand spread out as he shrugged his shoulders.
“My father thought about that, and he and Tarragonius talked about it all the time. My father finally decided that maybe there wasn’t such a thing as good and evil.”
“Sure there is,” said Sorus. “Look around, there are lots of evil things in the world.”
“Do they think they’re evil?” said Jon and turned to the boy with a suddenly hard edge to his gray eyes. “Don’t we all do what is in our own best interest?”
“Well, yeah,” said Sorus. “But sometimes I do things that hurt other people and I know that’s wrong.”
“Why is it wrong if it’s in your best interest,” said Jon. “At least that’s what my father would say. I don’t really believe everything he says but sometimes it makes a lot of sense. Let’s say you were starving, would killing and eating your horse be a good thing?”
“Yes,” said Sorus. “Otherwise you’d starve.”
“But it’s not good for the horse,” said Jon.
“The horse is just an animal,” replied Sorus.
“That’s true, but every day you have make decisions about what is good for you and a lot of times that isn’t so good for someone else. For example, Thorius is doing what he th
inks is best for him and for the town of Black Dale by trying to get rid of me. I’m doing what I think is best by staying and trying to complete my mission, which one is good and which evil?”
Sorus shrugged, “Well, I guess it depends on who I’m talking to.”
“Right,” said Jon. “That’s my father’s point. Anyway, my father decided to take himself out of the equation.”
“How’s that?” asked Sorus.
“He decided to stop trying to influence other people and remain neutral in all things,” said Jon.
“That’s impossible, how can he be the king of Tanelorn if he doesn’t make decisions?” said Sorus.
“He’s not the king, he’s the Gray Lord,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn people don’t tell other people what to do. People decide what is best for themselves and do it. At first it was just my father, Tarragonius, and a few others but over the years the city grew as other men and women who were tired of fighting, of deciding right and wrong, joined him. Now it’s a city full of people like that.”
Sorus rode along in silence for a long time, “It doesn’t seem like a very efficient system, I mean how does anyone get a well dug if they can’t tell anyone to dig it?”
“They dig it themselves and if someone else thinks it is a good idea they join them,” said Jon. “But, you’re right, it’s not very efficient and sometimes things don’t go so well. Do you know what I’m supposed to say when I meet someone who might be tired of deciding good and evil and would be a good candidate to come to Tanelorn and live?”
“No,” said Sorus and shook his head.
“Tanelorn has few luxuries to offer other than peace of mind. Some have found that allure enough and perhaps you might be among those so inclined,” said Jon looking intently at the young brewer with gray eyes and a firm jaw.
Sorus sat in the saddle for a long time and thought as the two young men rode side by side in silence for several hours until the young brewer broke the quiet, “I think your father might be on to something,” he said and Jon nodded silently.
“What about this mission of yours?” said Sorus. “We’ll be stopping for lunch soon and I’d like to hear about it before we catch up to those two.”
“My father thinks that relics of the Old Empire are influencing people unduly,” said Jon.
“The Old Empire?” said Sorus. “That’s big stuff! There are all sorts of old stone circles that are still magical from those days, people say that Doria was built in those times.”
“My father wants to collect these old relics, store them away so that they can’t influence people, so that people can make up their own minds about things, so their judgment isn’t clouded,” said Jon.
“Why doesn’t he just destroy them then?” asked Sorus.
“Dad would say that he doesn’t have the right to make that decision. I think he’s a little crazy sometimes about neutrality. You have to make a stand somewhere but my father doesn’t think so. So he just collects these things and hides them away.”
“What is it you’re here to collect?” said Sorus, the truth of Jon’s mission beginning to become clear to him.
Jon smiled, “You’re on the right track,” he said. “In the ancient empire there was a great child of the dragons, a king, or something like that and he had a powerful relic called the Staff of Sakatha.”
Sorus shook his head and partially closed his eyes, “Hmm, I’ve never heard of it and there aren’t many reptile men around although there are some way up north in Darag’dal.”
“My father seems to think the staff has reemerged,” said Jon. “I don’t know how my father gets his information, but he is almost always right about these things. He thinks it’s down here near Elekargul somewhere, he wants me to collect it and take it back to Tanelorn.”
“You should just tell Thorius that,” said Sorus. “I’m sure if he knew he wouldn’t be so dismissive towards you.”
“I’m to talk to the First Rider about it and the First Rider only,” said Jon. “My father was very clear on the subject. Those old relics, when you hold them in your hand, when you taste the power they carry, they can corrupt you,” said Jon and his eyes grew dark and cold and his hand clenched at his side. “It isn’t easy to fight off that sort of temptation, that sort of power.”
“Have you held them in your hand?” asked Sorus his voice almost a whisper.
“The Gray Horn and … the Black Sword, Banisher,” said Jon as his body suddenly trembled and a haunted look came to his eyes.
“What are they?” said Sorus, his voice became quieter if anything.
Jon suddenly shook his head and laughed out loud, “Enough of this talk, Sorus the future knight of Elekargul,” he said and clapped the boy on the back. “I hope you brought a small keg of your finest for the journey and my belly rumbles like I haven’t eaten in week.” He spurred his horse which leapt off in a gallop and he called out to the riders far ahead, “Sir Germanius, Mikus, my belly tells me we must stop for lunch!”
Sorus spurred his own steed and quickly caught up with the others as they settled on a spot where a small creek flowed into the Frosty Run River. Nearby bunches of purple flowers interspersed with green grass dotted the landscape and Jon spotted several small gray rabbits that nibbled on the bounty.
“What sort of flower is that?” he asked no one in particular, as he and Sorus unpacked two of the horses, while Germanius filled a kettle with stream water and Mikus gathered wood for a fire.
“Those,” said Sorus as he pointed to the purple bunches. “They call them Aubrieta I think, my mom likes them. They grow around here a lot, near creeks. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” said Jon. “My mother is always telling me that it’s important to know the animals and plants of a region.”
“You have a mother?” said Sorus and laughed aloud. “You talk about that father of yours so much I figured maybe you dropped from the sky or something.”
“No,” laughed Jon. “I guess I don’t talk about her as much, but I think about her a lot.”
“I feel sorry for the poor woman,” said Mikus who returned with an armload of wood and caught the tail end of the conversation. “Having to give birth to a boy with that giant of a head must have been a traumatic experience.”
“You don’t know the half of it, Mikus,” said Jon as he got up to help dig out a small fire pit. “I’m a twin.”
“There’s two of you?” asked Mikus and shook his head in disbelief, “I can’t believe a woman could survive such a birthing.”
“My sister is not as big as me,” said Jon, “she only comes up to here,” he said pointing to his lips.
Sorus, knew his own height of six feet and realized the girl was half a foot taller yet. “Yeah, a real shorty I bet.”
Jon laughed, “She always complains there aren’t enough tall boys in the world but I don’t think she means it. She loves to fight more than me and is already a gray captain.”
“Aren’t you a captain in your army,” said Mikus as he turned to face Jon.
Jon shook his head sadly, “My commander says I have to learn discipline before I can be a captain. I think he’s still mad about me and his daughter.”
“I don’t even want to know,” said Mikus as they put the kindling in a pile and the young squire began to scape his knife over a metal plate, which instantly produced a shower of sparks that caught light to the kindling, and soon a roaring little blaze was going.
“Those rabbits good eating?” said Jon with a motion of his head to the bunnies that romped all over the field.
“Three Maria’s,” said Sorus with a grin. “I don’t know why they call them that but they’re fine eating. They’re all over the foothills like this,” he went on. “There’s another kind too called Mountain Rabbits that are a little bigger with big white tails. We’ll bag a few this afternoon after lunch if you want to try them. Do you have rabbits up north in Tanelorn?”
Jon smiled, “I don’t think there’s anywhere with rabbits. Speaking of
rabbits do you have gnolls down here,” he continued.
“I’ve heard of them,” said Mikus. “Great hairy beasts, ten feet tall and they like to laugh in this crazy way, right?”
“They are big and they are hairy but I don’t know about ten feet tall,” said Jon, “at least not where I’m from anyway. We have an expression up in Tanelorn that the bunnies made me think about. Rabbits breed like gnolls!”
“There must be a lot of them then,” said Mikus with a smile. “How come they don’t just overrun Tanelorn?”
“I fought a dog-man once,” Germanius rumbled up from the depths as he stirred some vegetables into the water not yet aboil. “Not much bigger than Jon there,” he went on, “but a wild creature he was, he fought with an obsidian blade, the stone swords are sharp but brittle. He smashed it against my shield and near broke my arm but I managed to best him in the end.”
“Where was this?” asked Jon.
“Eh?” said Germanius as he went back to the vegetables.
“Where … did … this happen?” Jon said in a loud voice.
“No need to yell,” said Germanius and then gave Jon a wink. “The old man is only mostly deaf, not completely.”
At this all three of the youngsters laughed aloud and Sorus urged the old knight to continue, “Come on Sir Germanius, tell us the story.”
“You youngsters always humoring an old knight,” said Germanius with a smile as he attended to their lunch with great diligence. “It was well west of here, in the territories of the orcs, Grelm it is now, but before that it was something else, I can’t remember. I couldn’t have been much more than twenty or so years old. There were reports that the old masters were stirring and me and some of the fellows went into the orc lands looking for any them.”
“Old masters?” whispered Jon to Sorus who replied with a nod of his head.
“I’ll tell you about them another time. Brutus Brokenhand was their slave and he escaped and founded Elekargul,” said Sorus and turned his attention back to the old man who himself had paused in his story for a brief moment to fish out a small onion and pop it into his mouth.
