Into the Desert Wilds

by Jim Galford

  Estin thought through a few lies that he believed might convince a city guard to aid him, but could not bring himself to put them to words. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words just fell apart as the woman stared at him. The truth was the only thing that felt worthy of speaking.

  “My mate and children were taken from me. They may be dead or he may have them. Either way, I’m done playing his games. I need people who aren’t loyal to him to help me. I want to destroy him and it sounds like this town might be willing to work with me.”

  “Mate…wow, that’s a special name for it. A very romantic people, you are. Where are you from, wildling?”

  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yes, you called your wife a ‘mate,’ like some kind of breeding mule, and blabbered about overthrowing the lord of the city…”

  Estin stepped up on the woman, growling angrily as he fought to keep from shouting. “Do not ever speak of her that way again,” he warned the woman, growing still angrier as she smirked. “I adore my mate above anything in this world, other than my children. If I have to go against Arturis by myself, I will. I would prefer not to.”

  “I apologize,” she said, lowering her head slightly and relaxing her posture somewhat. Estin recognized the behavior from the wolves in Feanne’s pack—it was a strategy intended to ease the threat of violence from a superior foe, though he doubted this woman meant quite the same. “My sense of humor does not always come through as intended.”

  The two stood nearly face-to-face, Estin still feeling as though he were on the verge of striking her and the woman looking as though she were torn between amusement and curiosity.

  “I really do want to know where you are from, wildling,” she insisted eventually, her tone far more conversational and less challenging. “I don’t recognize your accent or your animal type. We used to have plenty of your kind around here, but not your breed.”

  “Altis originally. Up in the mountains, far out in the wilds. As for what I am…your guess is as good as mine.”

  The woman blinked and stared. “There are no mountains within a month’s ride, maybe farther,” she told him, her brows crinkling in confusion. “I have never heard of a city called Altis, despite the fact that my mother’s family were all traveling merchants before the mists carved up the region. How long was the journey?”

  Estin could not help grinning. “About five minutes…maybe less, I think. The mists dumped us here.”

  “Now you have my full attention, wildling,” she told him, offering a gloved hand to shake. “Up to this point, I intended to rob you the moment the streets were empty of anyone to hear you yelp. I’d considered turning you over to Arturis’ men to convince them I was loyal and maybe get a reward. Sounds like your stories may be worth keeping you alive for.”

  Taking her hand, Estin nodded grimly. Her grip was incredibly solid, making his knuckles throb. When he became convinced she was trying to intimidate him through strength, Estin pressed his claws into the thin flesh on the back side of her hand. Within seconds, the woman released her grip, rubbing at the small tears in her glove.

  Trying to keep things neutral despite his misgivings, Estin told her, “Thank you for not trying to kill me for acting out in public. I used to think that saying something like that to strangers was silly, but it’s gotten a lot more common in the last few years to feel genuinely happy that someone has no desire to attack me. Also, please call me Estin, not ‘wildling.’”

  “Sirella,” she answered. Sirella gestured toward the thieves’ guild halls behind Estin. “One-time master of the eastern part of town and a group called the Silk Touch, at least until Arturis drove us all out. Now, I’m playing my part as a loyal goon, in service to the idiots that serve the occupiers.”

  “You were a thief? Why become a guard?”

  “I was a guard first, wil…Estin,” she explained. As if unable to relax, Sirella jumped slightly as a man walked down the street outside. “Family brought me up to be a soldier when I proved somewhat unskilled at magic, along with my three brothers. They felt it was safer than sending me off onto the streets alone with no dowry. Always did find it funny that it’s safer to be a woman who tries to fight off invading armies, than it is to be unwed and poor among the unarmed populace.”

  “So why rob me?”

  “I need a reason? If I got caught, you’d made yourself a big target and I could claim I was arresting you for causing trouble in town. No one would ask any questions. It makes me look like a hero.”

  “And so all the remarks about serving the town…”

  “Pretty much overblown,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t get me wrong, I love this town and would die fighting for it. I just won’t be a martyr. Right now, you’re setting yourself up to be one. It makes me want to fetch a seat to watch the show when you get caught.”

  “You’ll have your chance tomorrow,” Estin explained. “Arturis has promised to keep sending ghouls after me until I die or I agree to be like him.”

  Sirella’s smile soured Estin’s mood. “So he’s toying with you? Damn you and your enticing lifestyle. I doubt you could scare me off now if you tried. I would—and have—paid to see Arturis send out his stalkers after someone. Very few people outrun or outlive them.”

  “I’ve worked with some interesting people,” Estin admitted, thinking back on the drunks, womanizers, and traitors he had convinced to join him in battling the Turessians near Altis. “And even I would say that was a little dark for humor.”

  “I’m kidding, of course,” she purred, though her smirk made Estin doubt. “Where do I sign up to get myself and my friends killed fighting an unstoppable force?”

  Sirella took the lead, guiding Estin around to a part of town he had avoided due to the larger crowds just south of the central mist-swept section of the city. There, a high wall with gates guarded a huge area, though there were no guards at the entrances.

  “You look like you’ve never been here,” Sirella noted as they slid through the milling people. “Why come to the city if you do not take advantage of the primary destination for travelers?”

  Estin said nothing, his attention mostly on keeping a hand on his bleeding side. The wound had begun to throb badly, but he was far too tired to do much to fix it without rest.

  The area beyond the walls took Estin’s breath away, making him forget the claw wounds instantly. Whereas everything outside the walls was dry and sand-coated, the inside was lush and green, with full-grown palm trees that were just slightly shorter than the walls. Ferns and other plants filled every inch of the open space that had not been paved for the residents to walk on.

  At the middle of the enclosed area was a large pool, from which elves were drawing water into large jugs. The plant life appeared to radiate outward from that water source, dwindling until it ended near the walls.

  “Corraith is the only oasis nearby,” Sirella explained, waving a young boy over. The youth hurried to them, carrying one of the jugs of water, which he set down at Sirella’s feet before running off again. “That pool has kept itself filled for more than a century. Maybe longer.”

  Estin sat down hard on a large flat rock that appeared to be intended as a bench. The damp air in that area was already helping him relax, though doing so was making it hard to stay awake. He could just stare at the full jug of water with its wooden ladle in amazement, realizing that he had not seen that much water in one place in many months.

  “Do you know anything about the leadership of the city?” asked Sirella, pulling the jug in front of Estin. “Before Arturis and the mists.”

  “No,” he confessed, reaching for the jug, but Sirella slapped his hand.

  “Corraith was ruled by a council of traders and craftsmen,” she went on, pulling off her gloves. “The best of their arts. Four of those were wildlings, including the leader of the council. All but one of the council members were executed by Arturis in the middle of town.”

  Picking up the lad
le, Sirella sipped a little water, then refilled the ladle and knelt in front of Estin. He felt instantly awkward, wondering why she would put herself in a position that seemed, at least to him, to be subservient.

  “Most commoners have no idea who is in charge from one day to another. Do you really want to draw Arturis’ attention, Estin? I can arrange it using these people. I am not sure you’ll like the result, though.”

  “I don’t care anymore,” Estin told her, unable to take his eyes off the water. “That man stands between my family and I. I’ll do anything to get them back.”

  Nodding, Sirella picked up the full ladle of water. Looking around at the crowd of elves that filled the area, mostly ignoring them, she gave Estin an evil smile.

  Loudly enough that everyone could hear her, Sirella announced, “I acknowledge your claim to the council, master. I pledge my sword to the council, as I always have.”

  With that, the woman poured the ladle of water slowly over Estin’s head, making him jump in surprise as the cool water ran through his fur.

  “What was that all about?” he demanded, as Sirella put down the ladle and slid the jug over to Estin.

  “That was a recognized town guard captain announcing that she is now in service to the council again,” she explained. “To all of them, you are the unquestionable lord here, until the council says otherwise. The council is dead and gone, so only Arturis can speak against you. He tries to keep hidden, so I am betting this will anger him incredibly, once he learns of it.”

  Estin reached for the ladle of water, but an old elven woman grabbed it from his hand. Pouring the water herself into a mug, she offered that to Estin.

  Looking around, Estin realized that a dozen people now stood around him, waiting to see what he needed. None of them asked anything of him, but all were ready to serve.

  A well-dressed elven man soon knelt beside Estin, examining his wounds. Without asking, the man pushed Estin’s arm out of the way and began tending to the deep gouges, applying ointments, then covering the whole thing with a gauze patch.

  “Don’t let it go to your head, wildling,” Sirella said softly, winking when she failed to use his name. “You may be the shortest-lived member of the council in history and I intend to be there to watch you hang, if it gives me even a moment’s chance at Arturis.”

  *

  The following evening, Estin strode out into the main plaza of Corraith, where the six major roads intersected. He did not hesitate as he went to the broken central fountain and sat down on a fallen stone to wait. From the look of the place, the fountain had once fed from the spring nearby, but had never been fixed after the mists had passed.

  From what Estin had seen, the city frowned on anyone touching the statues or other public displays. Destroyed or not, the fountain appeared to fall into that category, causing many people to give Estin sidelong glances, or steer around him. A few gave him courteous bows, then hurried on. Given Sirella’s actions the day before, some watched him at a distance, as though expecting him to make a proclamation.

  Nearby, Sirella was busier than he was. He watched as the armored woman intercepted several groups of city guards. After brief conversations, the groups would move away, leaving any questions they had about Estin’s behavior to Sirella. From what Estin could gather, she was telling them that he was the new council member and she was his personal guard. Either that or she was bullying them into leaving.

  Estin closed his eyes and focused on the scents and sounds around him. He had chosen this location specifically because of how open it was, hoping that it would lend itself to detecting any attacker before they could reach him. It was a gamble, as such an open place was inherently more dangerous if whatever came after him was human or elven, allowing them to blend in with the residents.

  Still, Estin felt he had little choice if he was going to motivate people to stand against Arturis. They needed to see someone else do it first. They needed to see the dangers within their city.

  His legs tucked under him and his tail wrapped around his body twice to then lie in his lap, Estin waited until he had very nearly fallen asleep. The air had begun to cool rapidly as the sun disappeared, making him shiver and tighten his tail around himself. Offhand, he wondered if he should have brought Feanne’s cloak, but it was safely hidden away in the house Estin had secured as his own.

  A whiff of rotting meat made Estin’s mind race and his eyes pop open. He looked around frantically and then muttered angrily at himself when he spotted a cart of animal remains being dragged from a nearby butcher’s shop toward the gate where refuse was routinely dumped. He was getting jumpy.

  Closing his eyes again, Estin waited for the stench of the cart to fade, but instead of getting fainter, it grew stronger.

  “I’m sorry, master,” said a man’s voice, followed by quick footsteps.

  Estin opened his eyes slowly and found that the cart now sat in front of him, no more than ten feet away, having been abandoned by its owner. A quick search of the streets revealed the owner running hard toward the east.

  Turning his attention back to the cart, Estin realized that the few remaining townsfolk were hurrying out of the center of the plaza. Those that approached where he sat would stop, then turn and rush back the way they had come.

  Estin looked around until he saw Sirella on one side of the plaza, arguing with a pair of fellow guardsmen. She appeared not to have seen the strange delivery.

  He stood up slowly, unwinding his tail like a snake uncoiling as he got his feet under him. Knowing he was not going to like what he found, Estin put his hands on his swords as he inched closer to the cart full of cow bones and chicken heads.

  As he neared, a sickening slurp of movement within the animal remains preceded the entire cart toppling over as something—he almost immediately recognized it as one of the ghouls that Arturis had sent after him previously—stood up.

  Estin reflexively chattered a cry of challenge at the creature, drawing its attention. He had as a child tried to abandon the somewhat embarrassing and almost cute noise in favor of more ferocious sounds, but in panic moments, it would slip out. Thankfully, it was still enough to draw the snarling creature toward him and away from the fleeing elven residents.

  In that first moment, Estin believed deep down that the citizens would stand with him against the creature that served their conqueror. The ghoul appeared to have the same belief, stopping atop the cart to look around for additional attackers. Neither of them saw anyone heading their way, and the ghoul turned back to Estin, growling loudly as it stretched its claw-like fingers.

  “My mate is far scarier than you,” Estin told the ghoul, flipping the sword in his left hand to test the balance. “She has a better growl, too. You have to try a lot harder to frighten me.”

  The ghoul snarled again, stepping to the ground and facing off against him, moving off to his right in a slow circle. The creature was clearly smart enough to evaluate his defenses, which did not sit well with Estin. He would have been far happier with it stupidly rushing him. Idly, he wondered if the trick of hiding in the animal remains was the ghoul’s idea, or another’s.

  Without warning, the ghoul shifted from a slow circling to a lunge at Estin’s left side. Claws flashed across Estin’s vision as the creature flailed at his shoulder and neck.

  Twisting hard, Estin deflected the attack with one of his weapons, while thrusting his other at the ghoul’s exposed stomach. His attack went wide as the undead monstrosity moved easily out of his reach. Just as Estin began to relax to wait for the next lunge, the ghoul kicked out, startling Estin with its reach. The creature’s foot slammed hard into his already-injured side, driving the breath from his lungs as pain tore through him. He had tried to heal the wound, but he had ended up spending more time resting than using his magic in the last day.

  Stumbling, Estin nearly dropped the sword in his left hand, backing into the lip of the fountain. He searched for a way around, but the ghoul kept advancing, preventing him from getti
ng enough room to do more than keep his sword between the two of them.

  “Is this the best you can do?” shouted Sirella, kicking the cart over with a crash, making the ghoul snarl at her for a moment. “I’m disappointed, Estin. So much bluster, but I’m seeing too little to back it up.”

  Estin took that second of the ghoul’s inattention to get some distance between himself and it by leaping backward, using the length of his tail to give him momentum to flip himself onto the main platform of the old fountain. His feet nearly slipped on the loose stones, but he came down in a crouch, raising his swords as the ghoul turned back toward him, letting out a deafening shriek.

  Shifting his attention toward the magic that was always at the distant reaches of his mind, Estin drew forth power from the spirits. He pushed back against their whispers, trying to stay focused on the creature bearing down on him. With just a second or two before the ghoul was on him, Estin channeled his magic into one of his weapons, causing the blade to glow faintly.

  Estin lashed out with the sword as the ghoul scrambled up the fountain to reach him, the blade carving through its chest like water. Pushing past the ghoul, Estin raked its entire side, praying that it was enough to bring the ghoul down.

  A roar of anger and agony behind him told Estin his initial attack had been insufficient. Turning part way, he thrust his sword as hard as he could, even as the ghoul leapt at him again. The weapon buried itself to the hilt as the ghoul slammed into Estin, then took a shaky step backward to stare at the metal grip embedded in its chest.

  Estin waited, expecting the ghoul to fall at any moment. The last few he had fought had been difficult to catch and thus harm, but once he had gotten a few good hits on them, they had fallen easily. This one seemed ready to fall, but then its eyes refocused on Estin and it acted as though it were unharmed.