Abuud: the One-Eyed God

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Taming the Shrew

  Master Khatama guided the wagon eastward along the narrow, seldom-used trail. Niki sat alongside him as she combed her red hair.

  "Why were Azmet's men after you?" Boris asked nonchalantly.

  "What makes you think he was after me?" Niki asked coyly.

  "When I see someone running for her life I just assume that someone is after her," chuckled Boris.

  Boris's jovial attitude put Niki at ease and she laughed heartily. "He is really angry," she chuckled. "First Wylan stole the Sword of Heavens. Then Arik and Tedi escaping threw him into a fit. I thought his heart would stop beating right then. I would love to see his face when he discovers his poor statue."

  "The statue of Abuud?" questioned the merchant. "What happened to the statue?"

  "I broke it," laughed Niki. "It ended up in thousands of pieces."

  "What of the eye?" inquired Boris.

  Niki immediately stopped laughing and glared at the merchant. It told Master Khatama exactly what he wanted to know. He knew that Niki had the diamond and that he had just sent the boys on a dangerous trip for nothing.

  "If that does not stop his heart nothing will," Boris commented. "That statue is his claim to fame. Nobody will believe that Abuud made him the prophet without that statue."

  "He will just replace the statue," Niki shrugged. "People like Azmet don't give up easily. I managed to get him to promise to make me queen of Tagaret, but I don't think he would have kept his bargain."

  "How can he replace a statue given to him by Abuud?" Boris asked. "No, his people will start to drift away without the statue."

  "How can you say that?" queried Niki. "You know that Abuud did not give him that statue. I heard you telling Wylan about it when he hid in your wagon."

  Master Khatama recalled his conversation with Wylan. He had noticed Niki at the time, but it was obvious that she had been lurking nearby. He wondered what she had heard.

  "Yes I did," smiled Boris. "The statue Azmet had was not even the real statue."

  "I know," laughed Niki. "You should have seen his face when I told him that. He chased the guards out of the room so they would not overhear us talking about it."

  "Does he know where the real statue is?" inquired the merchant.

  "Oh sure," nodded Niki. "That is how I got him to promise to make me queen. I told him that Arik and Tedi were going to the Island of Storms to get it. Now he will probably take his army down there to retrieve it. I hope they stay down there. I don't like him very much."

  Boris turned off the trail and started taking the wagon through the woods.

  "What are you doing?" asked Niki. "You missed the trail. You better get back on it before you bust a wheel."

  "We have to head south as swiftly as we can," Boris said seriously. "The trail we are on does not intersect another trail for over half a day."

  "What difference does it make which way we go?" asked Niki. "As long as it is not towards Azmet, we will be safe."

  "But the boys will not be," explained Boris. "I sent them to the Island of Storms to get that statue. It is the one thing that Azmet would trade the Diamond of Edona for."

  "But I…" Niki faltered.

  "I know that you have it," smiled Boris. "The point is that the boys do not know, and Azmet does not know. They are both after the real statue, and I do not think the boys stand much of a chance against a thousand raving fanatics with swords."

  "You knew I had the diamond and did not try to take it from me?" asked Niki. "Why not?"

  "It does not belong to me," Boris said simply. "It belongs to the Sword of Heavens. Either you will see that it goes where it belongs, or you will try to sell it. If you need to sell it, then I will buy it from you."

  "I wasn't going to sell it," replied Niki. "I mean I thought about it. It probably could make me queen somewhere, but what I really wanted was to be important. I wanted to be the one that got the Diamond of Edona instead of Arik."

  "Well you did get it," Boris smiled tautly. "I think that we are talking about that painful feeling you almost discussed last night. Do you want to talk about it?"

  Niki was quiet for a long time. Boris did not press the issue, but rode on in silence. After a while he looked over at Niki and saw the tears in her eyes. He turned and plucked a clean cloth from inside the wagon and gently handed it to her.

  "I suspect that people do not ever give you credit for things," suggest Boris.

  "People don't even like me," Niki bawled. "I have never been praised for anything. Everyone is always better than me. It has been that way my whole life. Just once I wanted to be the one that everybody praised. Just once."

  "I certainly find you likeable," Boris said softly.

  "You are just saying that," Niki sobbed, but Boris saw a glint of hope in her eyes.

  "Niki," calmed Boris, "a person's worth is not something that someone else gives them. Mostly it is in your attitude. It is a reflection of how you see yourself and I think that you are shortchanging yourself. You are not required to live up to the expectations of others. It is your own expectations that matter most. When you are trying your hardest at something, you know that you are doing the best you can. Nobody can ever ask more of you than that."

  "But I try hard and still can't do anything right," complained Niki. "I can't use a sword or a staff. They let me throw knives and stars, but they all move away when I am doing it. Like they expect me to hit them instead of the target. I can't even do magic right, and I know that I am a powerful mage."

  "Just because you travel with warriors does not mean that you are expected to become one," responded Boris. "I have no warrior skills at all, but it would not bother me to be with them. I bet I could cook better than the lot of them."

  Niki smiled. "That was a very good meal last night. I guess you have had a lot of practice traveling all these years."

  "Yes, a lot of practice," nodded Boris. "The point is, everyone has skills they need to develop. Not everyone has the same skills. You need to find out what you are good at and develop your skills to your satisfaction, not to someone else's satisfaction."

  "But even at magic I was a failure," Niki began crying again. "Having Fredrik better than me was bad enough, but then being in the company of the great Jenneva was humiliating. I know they were laughing at me."

  "Perhaps magic is not your specialty," suggested Boris. "Just because you have some magical talent does not mean that you do not have a greater talent somewhere else."

  "Jenneva thinks I have some special talent in healing," Niki said, "but even that was failure. I heard them talking about how I hurt Tedi by trying to heal him. They blamed me for him almost going insane."

  "What of your parents?" asked the merchant. "Perhaps knowing what they are good at can tell us where your skills lie."

  "I am not sure who my parents are," answered Niki. "It is all so confusing. Jenneva thinks that Sarac and Aurora were my parents. Dalgar say that Aurora and he are my parents. Other than that, I have known three sets of parents. My first parents had too many children to feed. I was the lucky one to get abandoned."

  Boris saw new tears forming at the corner of Niki's eyes and knew how painful this must be for her.

  "Another couple took pity on me and took me in," she continued. "All they really wanted was a slave to clean up after them. They worked me until I could not stand it any more. I ran away and lived on the streets. Finally I found a nice mother. She worked in a market and caught me stealing fruit. I thought she would have me beaten, but instead she took me home with her. She is the only person to have ever liked me."

  "What happened to her?" asked Master Khatama.

  "An army came through town one day," Niki sobbed. "They smashed the market up and destroyed my mother's stall. When she tried to complain they beat her and gave her to one of the officers as his slave. It was horrible what they did."

  Niki started bawling and Boris reached for another clean cloth. He let her cry herself out in silence. After several
minutes, Niki continued.

  "They handed her off from man to man," sobbed Niki. "When that was not degrading enough, they started handing me off. That is when it ended. My mother found out what they were doing, and she knifed the officer in his sleep. They hauled her out into the street and tore her apart by tying her to four horses and riding them in opposite directions. I escaped and ran away. I did not stop running until I could not run any more."

  Niki lapsed into silence. After a long period of meditation Boris smiled at her.

  "We will find something that you are good at," Boris said with a fatherly smile. "I know we will."

  Master Khatama pushed well into the night before stopping. He had eventually come out near a north-south trail that would run past Southland. He took advantage of the good trail to make up for the time he had lost going eastward. Boris pulled the wagon into a small clearing off the trail that had seen recent use. There was already wood piled near a fire ring, and the merchant quickly started preparing a meal.

  Boris smiled to himself as Niki grabbed the bucket under the wagon and began brushing the horses without prompting. He watched her as she put effort into the grooming and his mind started thinking about her potential talents. By the time Niki was done taking care of the horses, Boris had completed the meal. He served it into two bowls and handed Niki one as she joined him by the campfire.

  "You certainly do that job well," smiled Boris.

  Niki gave Boris a puzzled look and began eating.

  "I saw you tugging on the mare's tongue," commented Boris. "Why did you do that?"

  "She likes it," Niki said simply.

  "That she does," nodded Boris. "Strange like for a mare. How did you know she liked it?"

  "I don't know," Niki frowned. "I just knew."

  "Think about it while we eat," suggested Boris. "Maybe something will come to you."

  The meal was quiet and peaceful. Master Khatama lit his pipe, and Niki rose and gathered up the bowls and utensils. She took them to the stream and washed them and placed them in the rear of the wagon. When she returned to the campfire, Boris looked up at her.

  "Thank you," Boris said. "That part is really my job, but it was very thoughtful of you to do it."

  "I didn't mind," smiled Niki. "I like traveling with you. I can talk when I want to talk, and I don't feel obligated to talk when I don't want to. It makes me feel peaceful."

  "Have you thought about the mare?" asked Master Khatama.

  "Yes," nodded Niki. "I cannot determine how I knew. I think I understand why you are asking though."

  "Do you?" quizzed Boris.

  "Certainly," nodded Niki. "You think I have some type of intuition."

  "Not exactly," smiled Boris. "I could be wrong, but I think she told you."

  "Told me?" asked Niki. "She is not a unicorn is she?"

  "No," replied Master Khatama. "Just an ordinary mare. I am wondering if you have some type of capabilities in animal speech. Have you ever had thoughts about animals? Have you developed close bonds with any?"

  "Animals do like me," smiled Niki. "I guess they always have. I always used to feed crumbs to the birds and the squirrels. The squirrels used to run around me in circles. It used to make me laugh so hard. Do you think they knew it made me happy?"

  "Perhaps," Boris remarked thoughtfully. "I will try to think of some way of testing this theory. It is a rare talent if you do possess it, but I am hesitant to get your hopes up. Promise me that you will not fantasize about this talent until we determine if you have it."

  "I promise," stated Niki. "I am not sure what good such a talent would be anyway."

  "Every talent has a use," instructed Boris. "Many make the mistake of only valuing certain talents that are common in life. Often it is the undiscovered talents that matter most in life."

  "I am beginning to understand you, Master Khatama," smiled Niki. "At first glance you have practically no talents at all, but I am beginning to realize that I will learn a lot from you. The exciting part is that I will be learning about myself."

  ***

  Konic Clava walked into the Palace Shadow and scanned the dining room. He saw Duke Graves and his allies in the far corner and walked purposely towards them.

  "Councilors," greeted Lord Clava. "I couldn't help notice you here and wanted to stop and thank you for your support of my resolution to change the makeup of the Council. I truly think it will help alleviate these assassinations, although I imagine it might have made myself a few enemies."

  "Enemies?" questioned Duke Graves as he waved to Konic to sit. "Join us please."

  "Yes what do you mean that it will make you enemies?" asked Duke Zalski.

  "Well," frowned Konic, "there were three councilors opposed to the resolution, but worst of all is that whoever is calling for the assassinations will no longer gain from it. It is bound to make that person or persons quite angry."

  "I hadn't thought of that angle," admitted Duke Graves. "I trust you have security in place."

  "Of course," nodded Konic. "Koman mercenaries. They are very professional. Have you ordered dinner yet?"

  "Yes," answered Duke Tredor. "It is just several plates of various meats and cheeses. There will plenty for you. Wine?"

  "Yes please," smiled Konic.

  "Uh oh," frowned Duke Tredor.

  Everyone at the table followed Tredor's gaze and saw Mitar Vidson approaching. He walked up to the table and everyone waited for the bad news.

  "Lord Clava," said Mitar, "might I have a private word with you please."

  Konic nodded and rose. Mitar Vidson led Konic a short ways away from the table. They spoke briefly with Konic nodding repeatedly. Konic withdrew a small book from his pocket and scribbled something and then handed a page torn out of the book to the Koman mercenary. Mitar Vidson nodded and left the dining room. Lord Clava returned to the table.

  "You found out that your fears were justified?" asked Duke Graves.

  "Yes," frowned Konic. "There is a verified threat against me. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

  "My condolences," Duke Tredor said. "Did you agree to boost your mercenary force?"

  "Certainly," nodded Konic. "Only a fool would refuse to."

  "You should get financing immediately," suggest Duke Graves. "Do not wait like Lord Gelman did."

  "I had already arranged for the financing through Stafa Rakech," declared Konic. "All I had to do was give a note to Mitar Vidson, and he will collect the funds directly for Rakech."

  "How did you arrange that if I may ask?" questioned Duke Zalski.

  "I put up my estate for collateral," stated Konic. "Stafa Rakech will lend me money up to its value. If I do not need to borrow then I don't, but should I need funds quickly, it merely takes a note from me."

  "Excellent," Duke Graves said. "Will he do this for anyone?"

  "I assume that he would do it for any councilor," answered Konic. "I have no special relationship with him. I merely asked if he would do it and he said yes."

  "You don't suppose that these verified threats could be a ruse to extort more money from us, do you?" posed Duke Tredor.

  "No," Konic shook his head. "These mercenaries are professional and honest. I trust them with my life. I expect that most of the councilors will probably receive threats in the next few days. Especially if the assassins fail in their attempt to kill me. I probably should get back to my estate and oversee the new mercenaries. I hope you gentlemen will excuse me."

  "Certainly," smiled Duke Graves. "I wish you well."

  "I wanted to talk to him about joining our little group," sighed Duke Graves after Konic left, "but today did not seem to be the right time."

  "I hope he lets us know if the attempt is made on his life," remarked Duke Zalski, "but I guess we will know when the army is called to remove the body."

  "These mercenaries will never inform the army of it," advised Duke Graves. "They will dispose of the body themselves and never say a word to anyone."

  "We will know about it
," smirked Duke Tredor. "I have a spy in his home."

  ***

  The six Koman mercenaries entered the servants' quarters at the Clava estate with their swords drawn. The servants were ordered to ascend to the main floor. The dozen servants hurried up the stairs and into a hallway that was lined with mercenaries.

  "What is going on?" the servant named Handershiv asked another servant. "I am new here. Does this happen often?"

  "Never happened before," a servant answered. "I heard there are assassins coming."

  "Assassins?" echoed Handershiv. "You mean more than one? How do they know?"

  "These mercenaries know everything that goes on in this city," declared the servant. "I wouldn't get in their way either."

  "All of you servants sit down on the floor and don't move," ordered a mercenary. "Do not speak unless you are spoken to."

  Mitar Vidson entered the hallway and gazed at the servants before turning to his men. "Are all of the servants accounted for?" he asked his men.

  One of the men nodded.

  "Good," stated Mitar. "Our intelligence reports that all three of the assassins intend to attack at once. I have three squads set out to deal with them. You men are to remain here unless you are called for. The servants are not to move, and nobody is allowed to access the stairway. If anyone steps on those stairs, kill him."

  "Where are our three squads located, Sir?" asked one of the mercenaries.

  "One is in the servants' quarters," answered Mitar. "Another is in the study, and the third is at the rear entrance. You men are one of three groups to react to any changes in plans that the assassins might make. Stay ready."

  The hallway fell silent for a long period of time. The guards were absolutely motionless and glared at the servants anytime one of them fidgeted. Suddenly, the sounds of battle erupted downstairs in the servants' quarters. Within seconds, battles could be heard in the study and at the rear entrance. Within a minute, the silence returned. Mitar Vidson walked calmly towards the study and then towards the rear door. As he returned to the hallway, he stuck his head in the stairwell and talked to someone. He pointed to the four servants on the end of the row.