The Questing Game f-2

by James Galloway

  "What's the matter, Tarrin?" Keritanima asked, putting her hand on his shoulder.

  "Just thinking about Aldreth," he sighed. "If Daltochan did invade Sulasia, then it's probably being occupied. I hope everyone's alright."

  "I wouldn't worry about it too much," she assured him. "If your villagers are anything like you described them, they're all probably hiding in the Frontier. I don't even think the Dals would dare to go in there after them."

  "I hope so," he said.

  The ship suddenly lurched slightly to the side, and Tarrin felt someone-three someones-using Sorcery above decks. They had joined in a circle, and Dolanna was using weaves of air to move the ship. "Sometimes Sorcery can come in handy," Keritanima chuckled. "I wish I could be helping."

  "They can handle it, Kerri," he told her.

  "It's still not the same."

  "You just want an excuse to use your power."

  "Well, you didn't have to put it that way," she said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "You make me sound like a braggart."

  "I'm so sorry that you can't handle the truth," he said absently.

  Keritanima stuck her tongue out at him.

  "Brat," he said to her.

  "Count on it," she replied.

  With the help of Dolanna and her pupils, the Star of Jerod slid out into the narrow harbor and through the inlet, and out into the open sea. The ship's departure was very much noticed by Roulet, both in that a ship was somehow sailing out to the sea directly into a headwind, and that it was the Star of Jerod that was doing it. The ship turned southward as soon as it cleared the shallows around the head of the inlet fortresses, angling on a southerly track that would take it out to the horizon. As soon as the ship passed sight of the fortresses of Roulet, the non-humans and Azakar were allowed to come back up on deck, come back up to a rather dark night. A cloud bank had moved in, and was concealing the light of the Skybands and the moons. Yet Kern continued on his southerly course confidently, using a device called a compass, that pointed towards magnetic north all the time. Tarrin was rather intrigued by the device, and Kern explained how it was done to him after he followed the captain into the navigation room.

  "It's easy, Tarrin," the captain said in his raspy voice. "As long as we know what direction we go in and how long we go that way, we can figure out where we are on this map. Then we can change our heading so we can travel to specific spots."

  Tarrin nodded. "My mother taught me all about that, but the Ungardt don't use that little compass device. They use the stars."

  "Any navigator worth his salt can navigate by the stars, but the compass makes it much more precise," Kern told him.

  "I don't know, Kern. Some Ungardt navigators can put you within spans of where you want to go."

  "That's because they're experienced," Kern said. "You can say that about anyone, if he has enough time doing it."

  "I guess. How does this thing work?" he asked, pointing to a second compass that was mounted beside the map table.

  "Well, near as I can figure, that little needle was exposed to lodestone," he said. "Lodestone sticks to metal, I'm sure you've heard, but it also always points to the north if you hang it from something. Metal that's been stuck to a lodestone for a while can make other metal stick to it, just like a lodestone. Well, it passes on that point to north trick too."

  "So, they make a needle, then stick it onto a lodestone, then when it's absorbed the lodestone's magic, they put it on that axle," Tarrin said.

  "Just about," Kern said. "I ain't never seen them make a compass before, but that sounds like the way someone would go about it."

  Tarrin touched the compass' protective glass with the tip of a claw, tapping on the glass gently to see if the needle would react. But it didn't. "Be careful," Kern warned. "That compass cost me five hundred gold."

  Tarrin watched the navigator, a slim man with gray hair named Luke, make some notes on a chart. The map was a map of the coastline of Shace, from Den Gauche to the town of Roulet, all the way down to the southwestern tip of the western continent, where the large island just off the Cape of the Horn held the island-city of Dayise, one of the largest and best known port cities in the world. Dayise was utterly devoted to ships, trade, and cargo, from shipping companies to the famed shipbuilders on the north side of the island to the independent captains that called Dayise their home port. No ship that sailed the Sea of Storms of the Sea of Glass, to the south of the continent, had missed docking in Dayise. It was said that all roads led to Suld, which sat at the hub of an ancient road system built long before any of the modern kingdoms were forged, but it could also be said that all ships sailed to Dayise. The coastline of Shace, it seemed, was rather irregular and jagged, with a multitude of tiny inlets and bays and coves, as well as innumerable small barrier and shore-hugging islands. Those islands were the reason that the Star of Jerod was sailing so far out to sea. That, and those islands were reputed to be the haunting places of some of the smaller bandit and pirate operations in Shace. Only the small ones. The Pirate Isles, some two hundred leagues southwest of Dayise, were infamous as the home base of many a famous pirate.

  Shace was something of a lawless place, his father had told him once. Because of the weakness of the king, the local Marquis, what Tarrin would call a Baron, actually ran the kingdom. Because of that decentralized government, bandit gangs and organized crime were rampant all over the kingdom. That lawlessness occasionally spilled over into other kingdoms, which was why Sulasia maintained the Line of the Hawk, a series of forts along the border of Shace that discouraged armed parties from trying to slip into Sulasia. Shace also had trouble with the Free Duchies to the east, the remnants of what was once the kingdom of Tor, as well as a few desmenses of former Shacean Marquis. That was one of the most dangerous areas in the west, which was nothing more than a series of independent city-states, which controlled only the land around them. The land between the city-states was often a no-man's land ruled by whatever warlord had the upper hand at the time. More than once, a warlord had tried to reunite the Free Duchies, but the intense enmity between the city-states made that almost impossible. The Free Duchies had been embroiled in a series of wars over the centuries that would have done Tykarthia and Draconia proud. The only reason that the place didn't explode into all-out war was because that region of the Western Kingdoms was the richest, most fertile farmland to be found. The Free Duchies were often called the bread basket of the west. There was war and struggle, to be sure, but it always happened to occur after a harvest. Not even the most maniacal ruler of a free city would march his army over the food that ran his city. That huge production of food also tended to keep the citizens of the city-states content, and content citizenry rarely found the energy to support a war with some other city.

  "What is this place?" Tarrin asked, pointing to a strange triangular symbol on the map. It was on the coastline, probably about twenty leagues from Roulet.

  "That? Oh, that's Bajra Myrr," Luke replied, looking at the map. "One of the Seven Cities of the Ancients."

  That was a name that he recognized, because they had talked about it in the Novitiate classes. The Seven Cities were cities built and abandoned long before Suld was built. Nobody knew who built them, why, or what happened to them, they just knew their names. They were so ancient that even those that Tarrin referred to as the Ancients had no idea who they had been. Though the old katzh-dashi were considered the Ancients, the peoples who built those seven cities were also called the Ancients. But the two peoples shared nothing in common more than that term, because the true Ancients disappeared long before the katzh-dashi Ancients had settled in Suld. To a Sorcerer it may seem confusing, but when one considered that only the katzh-dashi and those who had studied them called the old Sorcerers the Ancients, it made more sense. Sorcerers called their ancestors the Ancients, but often called the denizens of those forgotten cities the Old Ones to separate them.

  According to those lessons, there was very little left of those seven cit
ies. Just piles of mossy stone, a few foundations, and a sense that there had once been something built upon those spots. That was why it was so hard for scholars to even discover who had once been there. There just wasn't anything left to use to learn more about them.

  "I didn't realize that it was on the coast."

  "Yeah, but nobody goes there. It's said to be haunted, and sailors are too superstitious a lot to risk it."

  "Hmm," he sounded absently, but by then his attention span had dissolved. He stalked out of the navigation room quietly, going back out onto the deck.

  It was later that day, nearly at sunset, when Dolanna sat Tarrin down near the bow. From her scent, Tarrin could tell that she was a little agitated, but as usual, her appearance gave no clue as to her inner feelings. "Keritanima tells me that you had something happen yesterday," she began.

  "Something, but I don't know what." With slow attention to detail, Tarrin told Dolanna about what had happened with Sheba the Pirate. He was careful to explain the way it felt. When he was done, Dolanna was pursing her lips, her brows knitting together. "I do not know if it was Sorcery or not," she finally concluded. "You are right about that, dear one. Since your cat form is so radically different than your humanoid one, perhaps the way Sorcery works while in that form is also different."

  "I don't know," he said.

  "Do you think you could do it again?"

  "I think so," he replied. "It was something like a reflex, but I remember the way it felt. It may take a while, but I should be able to do it again."

  "Well, we will work with that once we reach Dayise," she said. "Because of the confines here, we dare not experiment."

  "Yes, we may sink the ship by accident," he agreed.

  "Now then, how do you feel?"

  The way she said it made no doubt as to what she was asking. Tarrin closed his eyes and turned away from her, and sighed. "I don't feel anything, Dolanna," he told her in a quiet voice. "Nothing. I know what I did, but it's like it wasn't as serious as pulling out a splinter." He looked at her. "If I was put in that position again, I'd do the same thing. Without regret."

  "That is your survival instinct talking," she told him. "Once we are off this ship, and you are in a less stressful environment, we will see how you feel then."

  "No, Dolanna, this goes beyond that," he said, rubbing the metal of the manacle on his wrist. "I'm just not the same as I was before. I don't know if that's good or bad. To be honest, it scares me half to death. But I just seem to accept it, the same way I accepted this when it happened." He held out his paw, pads up, for her inspection. "I think back to what happened with the female, and what I did, and it doesn't even make me twinge. Not even a bit."

  "Dear one, I told you long ago that you had to explore your feelings," she told him. "I rather doubt that you've grown that heartless. You would not still be wearing those manacles if you had."

  "I wear these for an entirely different reason, Dolanna," he told her, rubbing one of them. "To me, these represent what happens when I let my guard down. I did once before, and Jula used that collar to enslave me. I paid dearly for that mistake. It's never going to happen again."

  "I think you are too hard on yourself, dear one," she said soothingly, putting a hand on his paw, then grabbing hold of it and placing it between her hands. "Do not dwell on such negatives. It can only depress you. Concentrate on the love you have for your sisters, and the friendships that you hold with many of us. Even Kern and the other sailors are starting to relax around you. They are beginning to understand you."

  "I don't trust them," he said in a blunt tone. "Not one bit."

  "Kern says that you saved his life."

  "Out of respect," Tarrin replied. "I respect Kern. That doesn't mean that I trust him."

  "I would not find many that would take such an opinion, Tarrin," she said. "How can you respect someone, yet not trust him?"

  "Easily," he replied in a blunt voice. "I respect him, but I wouldn't turn my back on him."

  "Tarrin," she said in a chiding, slightly exasperated voice.

  "Think what you want," he said, pulling his paw away. "I trusted someone once, and I had a collar put around my neck in return. Never again."

  "You certainly do not act like they would put you in slavery," she said.

  "It's a small ship, they don't have the tools, and they couldn't get away from me if they tried it," he said in an ominous voice. "That makes me a bit more relaxed about it."

  "Then why not use that to build friendships among the crew? Kern told me that you took interest in the navigation charts today. Why do you not go down there tomorrow and learn about navigation?"

  "No," he said. "I won't be friends with someone I can't trust. And I can't trust anyone I don't know."

  "Then get to know them."

  "I don't want to know them," he replied, giving her a steady look. "I just want them to get me to Dayise, then leave me in peace. Nothing more, nothing less. Until then, I'll help defend the ship, but they better stay out of my way." He stood up. "I think I'm done talking," he said, clenching a paw into a fist. "I'm starting to get worked up talking about things like this."

  "Go on then, dear one. Have a good night."

  "You too, Dolanna," he said, putting a paw on her shoulder fondly, then turning and stalking away.

  From not far away, Keritanima approached Dolanna, and then sat down where Tarrin had been. Dolanna's expression was worried, brooding, and her scent betrayed her unsettled condition. Keritanima had learned long ago that scents told the only truth about some people that there was, and she depended on her sensitive nose nearly as much as Tarrin did. It was a rarity among Wikuni to have an animal sense, but she had never regretted having the gift. "So," she said after a moment. "What do you know?"

  Dolanna sighed. "I would not tell anyone other than you or Allia, Highness," she began.

  "That's not a good sign," Keritanima said.

  "No, it is not," she agreed. "Tarrin is turning feral."

  "Feral? What does that mean? I heard someone say that once before."

  "It means that he is withdrawing from civilization," she replied. "At a more personal level, he is hardening to others. He will not open himself to strangers, and he is developing a distrust of anyone he does not know."

  "That describes any number of people I know, Dolanna."

  "It is a very difficult concept to explain, Keritanima. It has much to do with his Were nature. When a Were-creature becomes feral, it will not trust anyone except those it trusted before turning feral. It makes a Were-creature moody and potentially violent when it is exposed to civilization, or people it does not know. Right now, Tarrin has around him people that he trusts. If we were to die, or he were separated from us, he would most likely simply disappear into the forest, and never be seen again. He would never trust anyone again, he would probably only speak to others of his own kind, and even them he would not entirely trust. And he would never leave the place he considered his sanctuary unless forced."

  "That doesn't sound like much of a problem," Keritanima said. "It's not like we're going to abandon him, and I don't have any plans on dying anytime soon."

  "It is very much a problem, Keritanima," she said. "Tarrin will have to function in civilized surroundings. And do not forget, Dala Yar Arak is the largest city in the world. If he turns truly feral, his ability to control his violent tendencies will be greatly reduced. He will strike out in anger or outrage much more quickly, and he will have little or no remorse about his actions."

  "So he scratches a few people. They'll learn to leave him alone."

  "No. Do you remember what he did to Azakar a few days ago?"

  "Yes, but what difference does that make? Zak had it coming. He should know better."

  "Azakar is his friend, someone Tarrin trusts. Imagine what he would do to someone for whom he has no feelings."

  "A-oh. So, you think he'd leave a trail of bodies behind him?"

  "I am saying it is very possible. Tarrin cannot
reconcile his feral nature with his human morality. It will certainly unbalance him, and make him even more violent. And that will start a pattern of slow but certain degeneration."

  "What can we do to stop it?"

  "Nothing," she sighed. "It is something that he must work out for himself."

  For three days, the Star of Jerod moved generally southward in front of a stiff tailwind, a cool wind that propelled the old ship towards Dayise much faster than Kern and his navigators expected. The wind also carried upon it scents of the sea and land, of birds and salt and water and occasionally vaint traces of grass and trees. Tarrin stood on the steerage deck with Allia early in the morning, greeting the rising sun coming over a horizon that Allia said held the edge of land. Tarrin couldn't see it himself. Allia's amazing eyesight was as inhuman as the shape of her ears. She could read an open book from five hundred paces away, and her night vision was probably just as acute as his own.

  It was an asset that the captain had noticed. Allia now spent some time each day in the crow's nest, where she used her eagle's eyes to watch for other ships, land, and possible dangers. It had taken some serious goading from Keritanima and Kern to get her up there, because the raw truth of all the water around them was so blatant, but once she and Keritanima went up a few times, Allia developed enough of a tolerance against her fear of water to be able to look out over the vast expanse of ocean. She still wouldn't go up if the seas were rough enough to make the crow's nest sway, but on a day like that day, with the seas generally calm and the skies clear, Allia would go up.

  Allia's strength never ceased to amaze Tarrin, and it made him feel a bit guilty. His sister was willing to stand up in the face of her fears, and yet he still seemed to be struggling with his own. But on the other hand, his fears were a bit more tenuous, dealing more in possibilities and conditions than physical things. Allia was a wellspring of strength, and he always felt more comfortable, more confident, when she was near him. That strength did help in its own way, mainly because he always felt more confident, calmer, much more relaxed around his quiet, unassuming sister.