Fool's Errand

by David G. Johnson

  “The Cyrian knight fell in the battle?” Field Marshal Bonecrusher interjected, with a look of genuine surprise poking out from beneath his reddish beard. “ It must have been overwhelming odds indeed to take down such a mighty knight. I expected the whole of the company to fall, our own bezrek included, before an enemy should take down such a powerful captain.”

  “No!” Arreya, letting her emotions get the better of her, snapped snarkily. “Prince Goldain killed him. He was a traitor who turned on us in battle along with the cook.”

  She looked truly maniacal with her derisive snarl and her teeth oozing with porcine blood from her evening meal.

  “A traitor?” Bonecrusher asked.

  She quickly regained her composure and explained.

  “Captain Gideon feels there is some connection between the increased humanoid raids in the free lands east of here, the ambushers, and Garan’s betrayal. A mage called the Blue Mystic is at the center of things. Captain Gideon expects to find some more answers in the Cyrian capital.”

  The field marshal looked pained. He scratched his chin as if thinking through some deep battle plan.

  “So how did the rest of the battle go? How numerous were the enemies? What were the losses?”

  “Thirteen of Captain Tropham’s troopers and eleven Durgak under Captain Donovan’s command fell in the battle. We were outnumbered two-to-one at least by a combined force of Adami bandits, Ogres, Hobgoblins, and Orcs, not to mention the traitors within our own midst. We also lost one of the hirelings—the Shade, Ohanzee.”

  “Steep odds indeed,” remarked the field marshal. “Good to know that even against such long odds, our bezreki and the troops from Aton-Ri gave a bold accounting. Doubtless it was a victory worthy of song. And what of the survivors not accompanying Captain Gideon to Cyria?”

  “Captain Tropham’s men were burning the enemy bodies and clearing the disabled wagons from the pass. He should arrive here tomorrow afternoon with the bodies of the fallen and a request that guest tombs be made available for the departed soldiers.”

  “This is sad news,” began the chancellor, “and hard to bear for the loved ones of those who were lost. Guntur will see to it that a security detail is dispatched tonight to assist Captains Tropham and Donovan as soon as we are done here. Rest assured the fallen will be given a place of honor within the walls of Stonehold.”

  High Priest Othblest seemed to be growing impatient with the lack of response as to the fate of Duncan, and was not the only one.

  “Do you have any news of priest Duncan? Was he injured?” queried Farris Stonebender.

  She knew that he was related to the young Durgak and was looking for news to give to Duncan’s father.

  “He is fine,” Arreya continued, “and many more would have been lost had it not been for priest Duncan’s bravery and healing oth.”

  This seemed to greatly please the minister of mining, whose face shifted into a contented smile.

  The remainder of the meal passed quietly as the Durgak had said all that needed to be said. This was fine with Arreya, who was not much for conversation when she was gorging in preparation for a long journey. After finishing her meal, she bid the council members a good night and retired to what would be her only real sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

  Arreya was already preparing to leave by the time the Durgak servant came to awaken her. She slung two swollen water skins over her shoulders and across her chest. Her dagger hung at her side and her trusted spear, Huntress, was in her right hand. The water she carried would have to last her the long and swift journey as there were no dependable water sources between Stonehold and Aton-Ri along the main road, unless one happened to have an oth-calling Durgak priest along for the trip.

  She was well past the east gate of Stonehold by the time the sun peeked over the eastern horizon. The fiery ball beamed down the corridor of Dragon Pass and straight into her eyes as she ran. She would need to be very careful the next few hours until the sun was up enough not to obstruct her vision of the road ahead. She slowed her pace considerably, squinting to catch as clear a glimpse as she could of the road eastward. The last thing she needed was to sprint headlong into any enemies heading westward in the pass.

  As she ran, her mind drifted to an even longer run she had made to Aton-Ri several months ago. That journey brought her from her home in the Djarmangara to the great melting-pot of the northwest. It occurred to her that her life had been one long journey to lead her here. She could never return to the Djarmangara, but must now find a new home in the urban jungle of Aton-Ri. As she ran, she drifted into a dazy daydream of that fateful day months ago that changed her future forever.

  (three months earlier)

  Arreya woke from her slumber as the din in the village became a living crescendo heralding the events of the day. Today would change her future. With the challenge irrevocably issued, no one in the village doubted the outcome. Their beloved queen would die today, and control of the village would pass to the usurper Hrassa. Queen Sumara had ruled their village well for nearly thirty years. Today that rule would end, and since the challenge was within the bounds of pride-law, none would lift a claw to stop it.

  Long had Hrassa’s mother, a former priestess of the village and a leopard pride Zafirr, held a grudge against the panther pride Zafirr, Sumara. The old priestess, Ihita, had always argued the Zafirr should not mix blood with the human races. Fortunately, for Arreya, Sumara saw things quite differently.

  This disagreement sprouted seeds of jealousy in Ihita. She raised and groomed her daughter Hrassa her entire life with a single goal. Hrassa’s purpose from birth was to bring about the events that would transpire this day.

  Soon after the young queen Sumara had been chosen to lead the village nearly thirty years ago, a young Adami wanderer ventured into their territory. The Tamueai, a short-statured Adami people who shared the Djarmangara with the Zafirr, and the diminutive Qatoni, relatives of the Mitsar, were tolerated as trading partners. This tolerance came because each group knew their own territories and respected the borders of the others.

  This Adami wanderer, however, was no Tamueai. His pale skin and dark-brown hair marked him as an outsider to the Djarmangara. He said he came from a city called Aton-Ri, far up the western shore of the Sea of Zimri. He was a chronicler writing a history of the northern peoples of Ya-Erets. The journey to the jungle in search of the Zafirr was a result of hearing tales of the cat-men from the Tamueai traders in the port city of Babani Alaua. He found what he was looking for.

  It was Zafirr law to kill those who crossed the Zafirr borders in hostility. Tamueai and Qatoni traders were allowed if escorted by Zafirr scouts but never before had anyone entered Zafirr territory unescorted yet with peaceful intentions. There was no law for this. The decision of what to do with this stranger was up to the new queen.

  The man’s name was Rey Kaltir. The queen decided that this was a momentous opportunity to embrace the outsiders and to open their world to what existed beyond the lush greenery of the Djarmangara. She assigned a young warrior, Azula, a female black panther Zafirr, to be both a guard over the stranger and also to share their histories with him. Azula was one of the warriors responsible for trade excursions with the Tamueai, and she spoke the Adami tongue better than anyone else in the village did.

  For a few years, the young man lived among the Zafirr. He learned their language, although no Adami could quite master all the subtleties of the growls and hisses common to the Zafirr tongue. He also taught the Zafirr children who wished to learn the Adami tongue. Many adult warriors also studied with their furless and tailless guest. Over time, the man also became closer to his unwed Zafirr guardian, Azula. They both came to realize that their care for each other went far beyond their language and cultural sharing. They had fallen in love.

  In an unprecedented act of courage, both Rey and Azula presented themselves before Queen Sumara and requested her permission to become bondmates. This was a very serious affair since, unlike
the Adami culture where physical mating and life-mating was not necessarily permanent, the Zafirr mated once for life. If the queen permitted this, and for some reason the Adami decided later to run off in pursuit of his own life, Azula would still be bound to the union and could never re-mate.

  The priestess Ihita, who sat on the village council, objected vehemently to the suggestion. Never had one from their village taken a non-Zafirr mate. This might not be unheard of among tribes living closer to Babani Alaua, but none of the deep tribes had ever done this. The council divided, with Ihita’s influence swaying the minds of several other elders, but the young queen and those who shared her desire to reach outside the confines of the Djarmangara supported the request. Finally Queen Sumara granted permission for Rey and Azula to become bondmates for life.

  There was joy and awe in the village when word came that Azula would bear a kit within the year. Ihita continued spreading hatred and fear that a demon child or offspring of the Ayabim would be the fruit of the union, and that this child one day would rise up to destroy their village. Her raging was soon squelched by the second blessing of news that the new queen herself was also with kit and would soon bear an heir to the Sumara pride.

  The two cubs were born within a week of each other, a very rare white-panther cub to Queen Sumara, who she named Sutheera, and the black-furred chats-enash whom Rey and Azula named Arreya. Arreya, pronounced in Zafirr with rolling Rs means two tribes, a fitting name for a child of two peoples. Within the name itself was imbedded the name of Arreya’s Adami father.

  The joy of the dual births would not last for long. Soon after Arreya’s birth, a terrible plague swept through the Djarmangara. It affected the Tamueai and Qatoni as well, but it took a far more devastating toll upon the Zafirr. Nearly half the village died from the plague, including Arreya’s mother, Azula. That Arreya’s father was not infected was all the fuel Ihita needed to fan her rage into a full-fledged inferno.

  She blamed the Adami outsider for bringing the plague even though he had already lived for years with the Zafirr without incident. Ihita said that the One Lord was displeased with them for allowing the union. She called for putting things right by executing Rey as they would any other according to the law who killed a Zafirr. An eye for an eye was the law of the Zafirr and a life for a life.

  Despite appeals from Queen Sumara that these accusations were unfounded, fear of the devastation of the plague wracked the village council, and Ihita’s poisonous words swayed the village elders. Over the objections of the queen, a group of Ihita’s followers dragged Arreya’s father into the center of the village and slit his throat.

  Arreya had been much too young to remember these events, but they had been relayed to her many times over the years by Queen Sumara. As Arreya’s mother had been pride-bound to serve Sumara, the young queen took her daughter Arreya under her protection. Sumara adopted Arreya as her own kit, to be raised with her daughter, the white-furred Sutheera.

  As Arreya grew, it became apparent that despite the ridicule and shunning propagated by Ihita and her leopard kit Hrassa, the young chats-enash would grow to be a mighty warrior indeed. Something in the blending of her Zafirr and Adami parentage formed a catalyst that made her faster, stronger and more enduring than any pure Zafirr, even the queen’s own daughter. The two kits grew up together and became the first and second best hunters in the village. While most Zafirr didn’t make their first solo kill until their late teens, Arreya brought down her first wild boar the week of her thirteenth birthday. It was less than a year later when Sutheera made her own first kill, the village record for any pure blood Zafirr.

  When the girls were nineteen, there was a problem with amphiboid raiders. A large groups had ventured out of their territory in the southeast of the Djarmangara and began hunting on Zafirr land. Their leaders were terrible Trolls who could heal quickly and even grow back limbs like the salamanders they so resembled. The rest of the raiders were a combination of the hard-shelled Sythys, somewhat resembling humanoid turtles, and the slick-skinned Skaahk, a frog-like humanoid race. The amphiboids had already killed several Zafirr scouts and taken much game in their intent to expand their territory into the Zafirr hunting lands.

  One day, as the group of warriors led by Sutheera and Arreya battled a large force of amphiboids, the queen’s daughter was slain by a vicious blow from the Troll leader. Arreya went on to lead the Zafirr warriors to victory, and the amphiboids were turned back from further advances into Zafirr lands, but the cost had been the queen’s only blood heir.

  The village fell into turmoil over the following two years as the debate raged over whether the queen, who was now beyond kit-bearing years, could name her adopted kit Arreya to succeed her. Although Ihita died several years before, her daughter Hrassa kept alive the vehement objection to any half-blood serving as queen.

  The elders, torn between the strong arguments of Hrassa and the clear leadership ability of the young Arreya remained locked in indecision. For her purposes, this served Hrassa just as well as their endorsement, as it prevented the council from either accepting or denying the queen’s bid to name her adopted daughter an heir to the throne.

  Finally, the moment arrived that Hrassa had been waiting for. Whether from weariness at arguing the point or some other unseen pressure, a number of the elders yielded Hrassa objections. The decision was finally made. Since Arreya’s mother had been a pride-bound warrior to the Sumara pride and thus permanently a servant, she could never be eligible to challenge for the throne. A majority of the elders ruled that her kit would fall under the same pride-bond. Arreya would serve the Sumara pride as a warrior but could not be named an heir or successor to the throne either through adoption or through challenge.

  That decision led quickly to this day. The aging queen failed in a kill for the first time in last week’s hunt, making her eligible for challenge. The much younger Hrassa wasted no time in issuing a combat challenge to Sumara for the right to rule the village.

  The custom was that an heirless queen who missed a kill would be allowed to rule out her days, served in the hunt by her pride-bound warriors. After her death, the village council would elect the next queen from among the able warriors. Hrassa knew, however, that her political stirrings had not endeared her to the elders and that much more capable warriors existed in the tribe. Even if Arreya had been eliminated from contention, Hrassa would never rise through popular support of the tribe. She was a strong enough warrior, however, to best the aging queen for control of the village.

  Within the law, it was permissible for a hunter to challenge a queen who had missed a kill for control. Most young hunters and even village elders would not disgrace a queen who had ruled so well for so long with such a challenge. Hrassa’s ambition, however, drove her to push the law fully and challenge Sumara. The queen’s failing health and age would all but guarantee her doom in a fight with the much younger Hrassa.

  Zafirr tradition further dictated that any pride-bound warriors in service to a challenged queen would be exiled should she lose the challenge. That would be Arreya’s fate. She had known this day would come when Sumara missed her kill.

  She had decided days ago that after the challenge, she would bid good-bye to the warriors who she had served with and would head to Babani Alaua in the morning. From there, she would begin the arduous trek up the western shore of the Sea of Zimri, through the edge of the great western desert, through the goblinoid-infested wild lands, and through the swampy delta of Darkmoor in search of her father’s home—the city of Aton-Ri.

  Arreya snapped out of her reverie as the eastern mouth of Dragon Pass drew into sight. How long had she run, locked in her memories and unaware of her surroundings,? Fortunately, her drifting mind had not led her into any dangers in the well-patrolled pass, but as she peered ahead, she realized that was about to change.

  Large rocks from an ancient slide near the southern slopes provided ample cover and she quickly availed herself of their presence. Fortunately the sun had
risen enough in the sky as to not greatly impair sight. Focusing her sharp, half-Zafirr eyes to the edge of her vision, she spotted a large group of beings just rounding the lip of the pass and heading her way. With any luck, they had not yet seen her.

  The fur on the back of her neck stood on end as they drew closer. A large group of goblinoids and amphiboids, led by a brutish-looking Ogre, now stood between her and the open plains of Rajik just beyond the mouth of the pass. She carefully counted and assessed the oncoming enemies. Three Hobgoblins, five Sythys, nine Orcs, and a dozen Skaahk all traveling as though they were some type of organized group.

  The amphiboids did not bear any armor or markings. Even in the Djarmangara, they seldom did. The goblinoids, however, carried what Arreya assumed were tribal or clan markings. One Hobgoblin and four Orcs bore shields bearing the signet of a single broken femur bone, while the other two Hobgoblins and five Orcs bore the sign of a red skull on their shields. The Ogre wore a large iron cuirass, which also bore the mark of a red skull in the center of the chest piece.

  Arreya was the greatest warrior of her Zafirr village, but on her best day, she could never take out thirty enemies, especially with Ogre leading them. She considered her options.

  First option: flee. The enemies were now already within archery range and the three Hobgoblins all had bows. There was no way to make her way up the southern slope without being seen, and any retreat back toward Stonehold would also expose her to the arrows of the goblinoids.

  Second option: evade. If she stayed hidden, there was a small chance that they might pass her by without noticing, but there was no guarantee of that. The only other ranged weapons were the spears carried by the Skaahk and the Orcs, but she was sure she could duck and dodge her way around those even while running away.

  Spear-dodge was a game that the Zafirr played from childhood and was one of the things they used to develop their hunting and combat reflexes. Of course children started the games when young with blunted spear shafts, but by the time they were ready to join the hunt, they practiced with deadly hunting spears.