by Tom Liberman
“I think it was Torrentius Oldhill watched the camp that night when we was attacked,” said Germanius. “He was mostly hobgoblin old Torrentius, he leapt in front of them ambushers and was near chopped in half by the dog-man but held them off long enough for the rest of us to get up. It was quite a scramble I can tell you that. At one point one of them, a little fellow, goblin or some such, jabbed a dagger right up my arse. Now boys,” said the old warrior, “let me tell you straight, don’t ever let a goblin feller jab his dagger up there unless you’re fond of screaming like a little girl every time you take a crap for the next month.”
The three young men burst into laughter, Jon and Sorus clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces, and Mikus rolled around on the ground so much so that he put the tail edge of his leather jerkin into the fire and had to throw it off and stomp it out, which led to more merriment.
After everyone finally settled down Germanius continued his story, “The way that dog fella laughed was enough to chill the bones, sorta half a laugh, half a scream, and a little something else as well. I stuck my sword in his eye and that was that, but we had to bury poor Torrentius in the morning,” finished Germanius and this sobered the boys a great deal.
“He died a hero though,” said Mikus. “I mean he saved the rest of you from getting ambushed in camp.”
Germanius nodded his head in agreement, “Every day I’m alive is because of that,” he said. “I had forgotten about that until you mentioned gnolls,” he went on. “There’s quite a number of good fellas in their grave instead of me. Sometimes I wonder if the Black Horse wanted it that way or whether it’s just the fate of things.”
“Tell me about the Black Horse. I don’t know much about your religious beliefs,” said Jon with a look to Sorus.
Sorus thought for a moment as Germanius poured the hot water off through a strainer and began to dish out piles of vegetables; carrots, onions, cauliflowers that set off a cloud of steam, onto tin plates and passed them to the boys. “The Black Horse is sort of a god to us here in Elekargul but also sort of just a thing to say. Nobody really prays to it and it doesn’t really give bounties to priests or anything,” said Sorus between bites. “We just sort of talk about him and go about our business.”
“It’s like that in Tanelorn, everyone who settles there comes from somewhere else so they all worship different gods, there isn’t anything really common to the gray city,” said Jon and gobbled down his own food in great bites. “My father doesn’t worship any gods at all but some of the gray druids are very religious.”
“Doesn’t worship any gods at all?” said Mikus.
Jon shook his head, “Nope. He says that it’s up to a man to make his own way in life and that anyone who prays for guidance is just fooling themselves.”
“That’s pretty raw,” said Mikus. “I know a lot of men who’d have something to say about that.”
Jon shrugged his shoulders, “That’s my dad. He says what he wants, or at least he used to.”
“Getting soft as he gets older?” said Sorus with a look at his friend, concern in his eyes.
Jon paused the shovel like motion and stared at Sorus for a long minute before he replied, “I don’t know. Right before I left to come here he told me that a nation … what was it … a nation without heroes is a nation run by thugs.”
“What does that mean?” said Mikus and looked at Jon who shrugged his shoulders but Germanius nodded his head and put his hand to his sword hilt.
“It means that ambitious, strong men of action drive a nation, and if those men aren’t heroes then the thugs take over. The only ones who can stop self-interested bastards are the heroes,” he said and stomped his foot. “By the balls of the Black Horse I’d like to meet your father Jon, but I’m too old, too weak. You’ll just have to act like him and I’ll settle for that.”
Jon looked down at his plate for a few seconds, “Big boots you’re asking me to fill Germanius, I’m not sure I’m up to the task.”
“Paint my left leg black and call me a zebra boy,” said Germanius and walked over to Jon and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “It’s the thugs that are sure they’re right, they don’t doubt their capabilities. It’s the heroes that worry if they can do it. That’s what stops heroes and lets the scoundrels into the barn. Get off your arse and start acting like a man.”
“You sound like my father,” said Jon and put his own hand on the old warrior’s shoulder.
“I’m getting all weepy here,” said Sorus and put his arms around Mikus as the two young boys began to sob into one another’s shoulders.
“Okay, okay,” said Jon his arm still around Germanius. “I get it. Let me tell you all about what might be up in those hills. You too, Mikus. You’re father doesn’t much like me.” Mikus began to say something but Jon raised his hand and shook his head, “No, no, Mikus. He doesn’t much like me but that doesn’t mean I hold you responsible for the way he thinks. Actually, a lot of people don’t much like me. I’m a spoiled rich kid whose had everything in life go his way and sometimes I get a little full of myself,” he went on.
“A litte?” said Sorus.
“I’m baring my soul here,” said Jon, “and this is what I get?”
“You’ve got a thin hide for someone with such a thick head,” replied Sorus with a smile and Jon laughed.
“Fair enough, Sorus,” said the massive young knight of gray. “Mikus, you’re part of the team and that means you get to hear everything. You can make your own judgment about me. Does that sound about right?”
Mikus nodded his head and remained silent.
“I’m here looking for something called the Staff of Sakatha,” said Jon, “and I when I came over the Mountains of the Orc I spotted a strange mark on a rock up near the peak. It reminded me something my father said about the staff. I’m not getting anything done in town waiting for the First Rider so I thought now was the time to act.”
“That’s the boy,” said Germanius with a nod of his grizzled head. “You can’t wait for somebody else to be a hero.”
“I don’t know about all that old man,” said Jon with a smile on his face, “but I aim to figure out what that thing up on the mountain was and if the First Rider cares to join us then maybe we’ll let him have some of the glory!”
“Let him suck the blister juice off our feet,” said Germanius. “Ours is the glory!”
“Wahoo!” shouted Mikus.
“Who’s going to clean the plates,” said Jon his eyebrows raised.
“Being a hero is sometimes pretty unheroic,” said Sorus, grabbing the plate from Jon’s hand, and walking towards the creek.
“I’ll help,” said Mikus, with a laugh as Jon poured cool water on the fire and began to stomp at it while Germanius limped slowly over to the horses and began to pack up some of the equipment.
They reached the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc that night, but the main trail lay further to the north, so they stopped and camped near a small creek that meandered out of the hills and towards the Frosty Run behind them. Even though it was only their first night together they already seemed to have established a routine as Mikus gathered firewood, Jon and Sorus took care to set up camp, and old man Germanius brushed down the horses and prepared them for the long night.
“Should we let the horses run,” said Jon over his shoulder to Germanius who hobbled the horses with a length of rope.
“Not this close to the mountains,” said the old soldier, suddenly able to hear again apparently thanks to the daylong activity. “Strange critters roam these hills, you’re lucky you didn’t face off agin one on your way over the mountain.”
“I saw a big bear or something one night,” said Jon and walked over to the old man and helped hobble the last horse. “It growled pretty loud but I guess it wasn’t much interested in a tussle.”
“Bears won’t bother ya much unless you’re travelin’ with a lass,” said Germanius. “Them bears can sniff a woman’s blooding from a mile or more
away. Then they come’s and kill’s you and leaves the girl as she was. I seen it happen.”
“Really?” said Jon and patted the old man on the back. “I’ll remember to tell my sister that when I get back to Tanelorn. If I ever get back.”
“You might get back one day,” said the old warrior, and then suddenly a pained expression came across his face as he bent over his hands on his legs and let out a grunt.
“What’s the matter?” said Jon and put his big hand on the grizzled veterans back.
“The leg shoots,” said the old man through gritted teeth. “Like a dagger in the back of the leg dragging up and down. Hurts like the rotted tooth needing to get pulled. I gots the Zosters about twenty years ago and now I get these shooters now and again. They get worse the older I get. It’s time to die, past time to die,” said Germanius, standing up, and looking at Jon, his teeth still clenched. “Find me something good to die for boy. That’s what I ask of you.”
Jon put his arm under the ribs of the old warrior and helped him to the small fire that Mikus got started, “You sit down here old man,” he said and helped Germanius to the ground. “I’ll find you something good, I promise you that. Something that folks will be talking about for years to come. What do you say to that?”
Germanius nodded his head and then grimaced in pain again as he sat down with a thump, “I’ll be fine come morning.”
“You just stay there and take it easy old man, me and the kids will cook up some supper, here, take a sip of this,” said Jon and pulled a small leather flask out from his belt. “I was saving it for a victory drink but we might be dead by morning so why not take a jolt now?”
“I like your thinking on that,” said Germanius, took the flask, pulled out the leather stop, tilted it back, and poured a generous amount down his throat. “Ahhh, by the fifth leg of the Black Horse that hits the spot!”
Jon laughed and turned his attention to the camp where he helped Mikus and Sorus finish the fire, get out the bed rolls, put a roast chicken they brought from Black Dale on the fire, and start the water to boil.
Two hours later they were ready for bed as the fire burned brightly in the night and only a few clouds dotted the sky where a half moon shone brightly. “It’s hard to get used to that sky,” said Jon as he looked up. “It changed when I was sailing from Sea’cra to Tarlton.”
“The stars are different in the north?” asked Mikus with a puzzled expression on his face as the two lay on their rolls and gazed skyward. Sorus sat nearby, his back against a tree, and watched the same sky but still wore his chain shirt with his sword out and next to him.
“The world is round,” said Jon. “So when you get past the halfway point the stars change. They’re all different down here, none of the same constellations at all.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Mikus. “I mean, I knew the world was round, everyone knows that cause you can see a ship’s mast come up over the horizon, I just never really thought about how the stars would be different when you look up.” Suddenly the boy stopped and thought for a long time. “Hey, if the world is round, on the other side, in Tanelorn, up is our down.”
“That’s right, Mikus,” said Jon with a smile. “I bet you’re wondering why we don’t all just fall off?”
Mikus laughed and Sorus gave a chuckle from his seated position nearby. “What are you laughing at, Sorus,” said Mikus.
“Not at you,” said Sorus. “I was just thinking about that too. What is up and what is down? I mean, if people up in the north half look up they see the stars above them, but we in the south half look up and see the stars above us, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Mikus, “but that doesn’t make much sense.”
Just then a heavy snore from Germanius came from under his blanket and was followed by a staccato burst of several more.
“Germanius might have the right idea on this one,” said Jon. “Tarragonius, the gray druid, tried to explain all that to me once but I got a little lost. I’m not sure anyone can figure it out.”
“Yeah,” said Mikus. “I guess there’s not much to be gained in thinking about things you’ll never understand, but, jeez, it sure doesn’t make much sense.”
“Get some sleep,” said Jon and rolled over onto his side. “Wake me up in a couple of hours, Sorus, and I’ll spell you. Let the old man sleep, he’ll be sore in the morning and I’d be surprised if you and Mikus weren’t a little worse for wear yourselves.”
Sorus gave Jon a short nod with his head and looked at the sky for a moment before he gazed out toward where the mountains loomed above them.
The mountains appeared huge to Jon, whose own lands of Tanelorn were plains with long low hills covered by grass. There were massive mountains further north of Tanelorn, in the frozen lands, but Jon never went that far in his travels. When he first came across these mountains he grew to know the cold nights in the heights and he slept comfortably under the heavy woolen blanket given to him by Rhia and Shia.
The night went by uneventfully. The four packed up their camp the next morning, headed along the mountains, and looked for the trail that led up the slopes. It took them all of the morning and part of the afternoon to find the trail and it was the sharp eyes of Mikus who spotted it. “That looks like a bit of trail,” said the boy as he pointed to a small bush that sat atop a rock, “behind that rock.”
“I think you’re right,” said Jon and nodded his head and walked over to the little gap in the rocky foothills. “It looks right and the time we took to get here is about what I remember. What do you say, Germanius, camp here for the night and start up in the morning, or cover some distance with the light we have left?”
“My back hurts like an old bear that fell out of a tree trying to get honey,” said the old warrior. “Damn that Odellius for giving me such a fine horse, I’da been better off on a donkey, they ride smoother and not so hard to climb in the morning.”
Mikus looked at Jon, “Did he answer your question?”
Jon laughed and shook his head, “I’m not really certain but I think he means we should get to where we’re going as quick as possible so he can get himself killed.”
“That’s about right,” said Sorus. “If we’re lucky that’ll be me and you someday, Mikus.”
Mikus nodded his head and dismounted to lead his fine horse up the path. “I’ll scout ahead and if I find something dangerous I’ll tell Germanius!”
The stone projectile caught him directly on the temple and he was dead before he hit the ground. His horse reared, wheeled around, and headed back towards town at a gallop.
“Where did it come from,” shouted Sorus as he gazed wide eyed in all directions.
Jon dove for cover behind a large rock just to his right when he heard Sorus’s words, “Get off your horse, get to cover!” he shouted and then looked around to find that Germanius not only already lay under cover, but had also pulled his horse along with him to provide protection from a second side.
Two more rocks sailed past Sorus’s head just as the boy leaned down to dismount and a third hit his steed in the foreleg which sent the beast skyward with a kick. The young brewer managed to dismount with a thump, fell to one knee, then pulled his horse down, and quickly hustled to the cover of the rocks near Jon. “Where is it coming from?” he said and looked around until his gaze came across Mikus dead on the ground his eyes open and sightless. “Is he dead?”
Jon nodded his head, “Killed outright, lucky shot. Bastards. We’ll kill them, don’t you worry,” he said as a trio of rocks skittered off the boulders just above their heads. “There,” said Jon and pointed off to his right. “Three of them at least, maybe five, slinging from just up there. If they’re smart they’ll have a couple of swordsmen protecting their flank if we try to get around them. Germanius, what do you see?”
The old knight was a good ten yards from them, behind a group of three large angular rocks and had his horse positioned to his left to cover any enfilading fire. “They’ll try to come ar
ound us to your side,” shouted the old warrior and pointed behind Jon. “I figure three slingers, maybe four. Either they’ve got no swordsman or they’re cowards; they should have attacked us right when the slingers fired. That’d been their best chance.”
“Sorus,” said Jon. “Grab the horse, run about ten yards out, when the slingers fire, dart back and take cover in those rocks between Germanius and me,” said the gray knight as he pointed to a clump of low rocks between the two. “I’m going to go to where the slingers are headed and beat them there.”
“Got it,” said the brewer, immediately following Jon’s commands and heading back into the open. “After five long strides two stones ricocheted on the ground, neither one coming with five feet of him, and he quickly turned and retraced his steps as another stone hit his horse in the flank, which caused the beast to jump, but he was able to control it and lead it to cover. When he looked back to where Jon was a moment ago he saw the trotter but no sign of the warrior. He then looked towards Germanius who had his long steel sword drawn and was in a low crouch.
“We charge the bushwhackers as soon as Jon hits them, we’ll catch ‘em as they run. Gut ‘em straight through and don’t think about it,” said Germanius in a low shout and with a clenched fist.
Sorus nodded and a moment later a huge bellow came from Jon followed by a terrible shriek. Germanius was up, he ran to the boulders, tried to leap the first one but his foot caught on vines from bush and sent the old man face first into the ground where he jammed his hand as he tried to catch himself. Sorus was up right after him and paused to help the old warrior, but Germanius spat out, “At ‘em you fool, I’ll get there!” so the brewer continued with a bound over the fallen knight.
Just beyond Germanius the trail led back and around to where Jon pointed earlier and suddenly two young goblin boys, not more than teens, each with a sling in their hands appeared around the corner looking over their shoulder and running at a full gait. Sorus jumped down from a rock into their path, and the first one ran himself onto the boys slim blade which pierced deeply into his belly. The creature opened his eyes wide in shock, looked up at Sorus, spat out something in a strange language before his gaze lost its focus, and fell to the ground.
