by Alexey Pehov
“So our paths diverge.”
My companion said this without malice, accepting my refusal as a matter of course.
“Hold to the west. After a quarter of a league turn north and you’ll get to the road beyond the village. After about three hours you’ll get to the Al’sgara road. I hope you find Layen, my friend.”
“Good luck. If you change your mind, chase after me. I’ll ride slowly.”
The courier waved his hand, and after several seconds the fog swallowed both him and his horse. I listened to the random ringing of the bell a few more times; then I commanded Stallion, “Onward.”
For some reason I recalled Shen at this moment. Did he survive? Why did he fall behind? Did he manage to escape Bald Hollow? He was an impudent pup, but I didn’t want him to be dead.
Ommm.
Even if everything was all right in the village and they were just getting drunk over someone’s wedding or funeral, I saw no reason to tarry. Gis was an utter fool. What came over him?
The sound of the bell and the density of the fog twisted into a nightmarish specter, and I was glad that I don’t have a healthy imagination. That would be really bad. I’d be expecting something to jump out at me every second.
I’d been riding for quite a while, but I knew that I hadn’t traveled very far. Every now and then we came across wide ditches and irrigation canals, and then the peasants’ fields began. I had to circle around, holding to the right, and twice double back in order to avoid a shallow but long ravine. While I was bobbing and weaving, a light wind sprang up from the south, and the fog began to thin out. It no longer hung in a dense veil; gaps began appearing and the visibility improved. Now I could easily make out what was located fifteen yards away from me.
BOMMM!
The sound was so distinct that I flinched. I looked to the right. A dark spot stood out through the snow-white haze. Without realizing it, I had come far closer to the village than I wanted. I could see the houses on the outskirts.
BOMMM!
Damn that bell-ringer! Why didn’t his kin drag him out of the bell tower? Did they really enjoy it? Cursing under my breath, I directed Stallion back into the field, away from the village. Every now and then I looked over my shoulder; then I couldn’t take it anymore so I paused and strung my bow. Regardless of how large and unwieldy my weapon was for shooting from the saddle, I’d have to manage.
After a few minutes Stallion stopped abruptly and snorted irritably. Our path was blocked by a high fence. Right beyond it I could see some buildings.
BOMMM!
What bad luck! I still contrived to lose my way and once again enter the village. Turns out I was going in circles.
BOMMM!
It seemed I couldn’t avoid Psar’ki.
“Shall we go through the village, my friend?” I asked Stallion.
He made no objection and peaceably jerked his ears.
“Well, so it’s decided,” I muttered and gently squeezed with my knees (my hands were occupied by the bow and I couldn’t be distracted by the reins), causing the animal to move along the fence.
To the right and the left neat rows of low peasant houses appeared out of the fog. The doors were shut, the windows whole; there were no signs of destruction. Not even the flower beds were trampled. The street was empty. No children, no chickens, no cats, no dogs. It was as if everyone disappeared at once. A loaded wagon was abandoned on the dusty road near a particularly nice house. Not even the smallest waft of smoke could be seen over the chimneys.
The gate that led into one of the houses was wide open. I cast a quick glance at the rickety shack, old and untidy, which seemed completely out of place on such a prosperous street. The door was torn from its hinges. The dark gap of the doorway yawned like the wide-open jaws of a demon. I quickly rode away. Just in case.
The fog thinned out more, the visibility improved, and I spied a wooden House of Melot and a bell tower, whose top was lost in the white haze.
BOMMM!
Amidst the deafening silence, the ringing of the bell was unexpectedly piercing. Wrong. Blasphemous. It was like screaming raucous tavern songs in a cemetery. I looked around but didn’t see anything suspicious. I led Stallion to a fence and tied him up. I had to find out who was up there. My hands were itching with a burning desire to throw the idiotic bell ringer from the very top of the tower. So that he’d land face-first on the ground.
The door of the bell tower was wide open.
BOMMM!
“Hold on, you louse,” I hissed. I put my bow in my left hand, as it would be useless in such a cramped space, pulled the axe from my belt, and began to climb the narrow spiral staircase. The boards under my feet creaked treacherously, and I winced, annoyed at the old building. Whoever was on the bell platform could probably hear me.
All that remained was one flight of stairs. I scaled it in three jumps, burst out onto the landing, and nearly crashed into the bell ringer. Or more precisely, his legs.
Some clever prankster had hung the unfortunate man by a rope attached to the clapper of the small bell. Gentle breezes caused the body to sway slightly. That’s where the ringing of the bell was coming from.
It was all so much worse than I had thought. If you go around hanging bell ringers in Melot’s House, then you are a very daring and fearless person indeed. What had they done with the others?
I had to tinker about before I could cut the rope from his scrawny neck. The corpse thudded down onto the boards below and the bell finally fell silent.
I stood on the platform, visible to all. Unfortunately, below the railing the fog was thick and I couldn’t get a good look around. I’d have to ride onward blindly, but I had to get to the road as soon as possible. The people who so thirsted to hear the ringing of the bell might show up here at any moment to find out why it had been silenced. I needed to get back to the fields to avoid the people who hanged that poor soul. I started to make my way down, hoping that Gis was still safe and sound. While I was fooling around up top, nothing had changed on the village street. Stallion was waiting for me where I’d left him. The horse trod lightly, the fog muffling the sounds of his hooves so well I had no fear of being overheard.
A saddled horse suddenly jumped out from behind the tall fence and almost flew right by me, but at the last moment I managed to grab it by the halter. The beast belonged to Gis. Melot! What had befallen the courier? Fly could have escaped if she was poorly tied up. But there was a worse possibility; Gis could have been killed. The whole question was, who or what did it? The courier had clearly fallen on some bad luck, but he had only himself to blame for it. I wouldn’t search for him to find out what happened. He had his own concerns, and I had mine. I didn’t need to lay another’s idiocy on my own head.
I had almost exited the village when I spotted figures in the fog. I sharply reined in Stallion and slipped from the saddle.
Had I been seen?
I led the animals backward, praying to Melot that they wouldn’t inadvertently start neighing. Now the sound of their hooves didn’t seem as quiet as before. Leaving the horses in the care of the nearest fence, I armed myself with my bow and, not taking my eyes off the foggy veil, walked forward.
There were six of them. Swarthy, with black mustaches and shaved heads. Wearing saffron-colored robes and turbans. Costly, wide belts, curved sabers, small composite bows. I hadn’t expected an encounter with Sdisian warriors in the heartland of the Empire. There was no time to think about how they came to be here or what they wanted. I saw Gis in the midst of the six soldiers. He was lying on the ground, bound hand and foot, and the bald men were standing over him, apparently having a lively debate in their guttural, melodious language about the best way to finish him off. The men were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice me in the slightest. It would be a sin to throw away such a chance.
Before they came to their senses and realized where the arrows were flying from, I killed one and seriously wounded another. Two of them rushed t
oward their horses, and while a third reached for his bow, the fourth drew his sword, clearly intending to finish Gis off. I had to hurry.
My cheek felt the momentary brush of feathers and a soldier dressed in saffron fell to the ground next to the courier.
One less.
I outpaced the archer by a second. He had just about completed taking his aim at me, but my arrow caught him in the chest and he didn’t get me. His short bow, which was no match for mine, trembled in his enfeebled hands.
Meanwhile, the two horsemen were rushing at me, howling and waving their sabers. It was useless to run, too late to shoot. At the last moment, right before I was crushed by a charging horse, I jumped to the side and ducked to avoid a blade. Both my opponents flew by me and disappeared into the fog before I had a chance to take aim.
Of course, they did return.
As soon as a dark splotch appeared in the white shroud, I shot and a Sdisian fell from his horse. The last of this bizarre company was a cunning fellow. He did not rush right at me, but dismounted and almost got me, leaping out from a completely unexpected direction. Only Gis’s outcry warned me of the danger. I didn’t have time to use my bow. I had to scamper away from the saber of the dark-skinned freak in the most comical manner. He charged after me, bellowing challengingly, but I have to say that the bandy-legged klutz didn’t run nearly as fast as he should have. As soon as there was enough distance between us, I shot the man easily.
“I didn’t expect to meet you here,” said the courier in lieu of a greeting.
I silently cut the rope from his hands. Then from his feet.
“You dispatched them handily.” He nodded toward the dead men. “Something you’re used to?”
“How were you caught?” I ignored his question.
“Uh…” My companion paused to rub his wrists. “They nicked me with a stupid arrow, and took me down like a duck. I fell off my horse, and they trussed me up. Your help was most welcome. Thank you.”
“Not at all,” I said dryly. “I wasn’t planning to look for you.”
“I understand,” he said, and chuckled. “I can only thank Melot that you saw the light.”
“Get up. We have to leave.”
“I’d be happy to, but my head’s still buzzing.” He groaned, taking out a flask of reska.
“Do you know what happened here? Where everyone went?”
“No. Perhaps they ran, perhaps they were chased, killed, eaten, turned into butterflies, who knows,” Gis said morosely. “There’s no one here except the Sdisians. No bodies, no traces.”
“Well, on the matter of bodies—you’re way off. There was one ringing the bell.”
I quickly told him about the hanged man.
“That’s just the kind of trick they like to play.” The courier looked at the dead archer with hatred in his eyes. “They say they are masters at arranging such nastiness.”
“Nonsense. The Highborn of Sandon could put them to shame. And our lads from the frontier garrisons played such tricks on the bastards from the House of Butterfly (one of the Houses of the Highborn. Notable for their cruelty toward human prisoners of war) almost every day.”
“You were involved in that war?” he asked with interest.
“I had to be,” I replied reluctantly, waiting for a barrage of questions. But he only nodded.
“Right now we are fighting in the north and east, and I didn’t expect to see a Sdisian patrol so far to the west of the Empire. How did they manage to penetrate so deep, and to bypass all the patrols and outposts?”
“That’s easy. Through the fields and forests. Another thing—what do they want here? Why in the Abyss have they wandered in so far, and just six of them?”
“They could be a preliminary reconnaissance squad. They are marching not far from Crow’s Nest. Al’sgara hasn’t been attacked yet; perhaps it’s her time. We don’t actually know how many of them there are.”
“And I don’t plan to find out.” I pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t go anywhere until I find Fly. She gave me the slip.”
“You’re lucky. Your mare didn’t run far. I’ll be right back.”
Having left Gis, I went after the horses and stopped in my tracks when I saw that two more animals had appeared next to Stallion and Fly.
Before I could figure out where such a miracle had come from, something struck my legs and I fell straight on my back, so hard that my teeth clacked. Ignoring the pain, I rolled to the side, began to get to my feet, and once again got a whack to the legs from the invisible something. I fell again, tried to jump up again, simultaneously turning my head in the hopes of seeing my unseen enemy.
This time I was lucky and I saw a man running out of the fog. I raised my bow and almost instantly tossed it aside with a yelp. My weapon flashed with a bright flame and it was only by some miracle that I didn’t burn my hands. Meanwhile the stranger was right in my face. He once again struck me down to the ground, and then he pinned me there with his weight and began clawing at my neck with his hands.
“Gotcha!” he wailed in a sepulchral voice.
I tried to resist, but some strange force wouldn’t let me move a muscle. Steel fingers squeezed relentlessly at my throat.
“Where are they? Where are the boy and girl? Speak!” yelled the lunatic. He obviously didn’t grasp the fact that in just a little while I would never be able to speak to anyone again.
Not once in my life had I fallen into such a bind. Even being led to the gallows was easier. Lungs burning, I tried to pull in just a drop of air. My ears were buzzing. It was just at that moment that I recognized my enemy—it was none other than the half-wit Pork from Dog Green. He had changed greatly, and his eyes were glowing with a white light.
Coming to my rescue, Gis kicked the idiot in the face, and this forced him to let go of my neck. I immediately took the opportunity to fight back, and threw my opponent off of me. He snarled, jumped at me, and then something unheard-of happened. The courier took a short, twisted wand inlaid with red stone from his bag and pointed it at our assailant. Pork twitched once and then froze. His face contorted, and the next second he fell facedown on the ground, twitching with convulsions.
“You alive?” Gis asked me as if nothing were the matter.
I coughed desperately and rubbed my poor neck. The fool was surprisingly strong. I considered it a miracle that he hadn’t broken my spine.
“Hey! Are you alive?” Gis asked again.
“Thanks to your efforts, wizard,” I croaked. “Thanks to your efforts.”
“Well then,” he said after a pause. “I’m glad I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“Only a fool … would not understand … what kind of people … carry twisted wands with rubies.”
Gis grinned and suddenly asked, “Do you know him?”
“Yes. Pork. From the village where I lived for the last few years. I can’t imagine how he came to be here.”
At that moment the fool groaned, sat up, shook his head, and looked at us. His eyes were no longer white, but had become blue once again.
“Well, now we’ll have a chat.” I turned toward him with a determined air.
The cowherd, realizing that he would be beaten, squealed thinly and clasped his hands.
“No! Don’t! It wasn’t me!” he whined. “Please! I’m good!”
“Ness!” Gis called to me quietly.
“What?” I stopped halfway and looked at him angrily.
“Leave him alone. He’s not to blame.”
“Not to blame!” agreed Pork and for some reason began looking around cautiously. “It’s all Mistress. She made me. Yes!”
“How do you know?” I asked Gis, ignoring the fool’s words.
“It’s obvious. Your acquaintance shows all the signs of possession. And it’s very strange.”
“Do you mean to tell me that one of your friends has taken up shop in him?” I asked him incredulously.
“Well, first of
all, demons are not my friends. Get that into your head. And secondly, the one bound to him is not a demon. I’ve never encountered anything like it.”
“But now he looks…” I wanted to say “normal” but I realized that such a word didn’t really fit the village idiot.
“Not possessed?” continued Gis. “That’s not at all surprising. I managed to save the young man from his companion in time.… Hey! Hey! Stop!”
I turned around and saw that Pork was running away from us so fast that his heels were on fire. Well sure, why would he wait around until we were done chatting and decided to give him a drubbing? Gis and I ran after him.
The cowherd was quick. He disappeared into the damned fog and for some time we ran aimlessly, hoping to catch him.
“It’s useless!” I said finally. “He must have turned aside and we ran past him. Shit! It’s like looking for wind in a field!”
I was beginning to regret that I hadn’t stabbed the fool in the back with my axe. I wanted to take him alive, and this was the result. Gone, like water in sand. No way would I catch him now.
“I don’t mean to upset you, but we need to get out of here as soon as possible.” Gis had not parted with his wand.
“Why such haste?” I asked irritably, angry at both him and myself for having lost Pork. “An hour ago I couldn’t persuade you to pass this place by.”
“You’ve got to understand the situation, lad.” He drew out the words, staring into the fog. “Of course I am not at all averse to staying here, but your friend, or rather, the one who controls him, is weak for the moment, but has quite a bit of real magic. And I, for all my considerable experience, would not want to face him when he finally takes control of that poor man again. So I ask you kindly, stop baring your teeth at me and let’s go.”
His expression was very troubled, and I decided not to argue.
* * *
Less than three hours later we found the road, and by evening we were sitting in a decent roadside tavern and everything that had happened that morning might have seemed like a dream if not for one thing—the fingerprints of that hapless strangler on my neck.
