INBORN (The Sagas of Di'Ghon)

by Lawrence, J.

  “Go away.”

  Since the moment they left Ontar Hold he hadn’t uttered one word to her without it being a barb of some sort. At first she knew he didn’t mean any harm. It was just… well… Jorel. Yet, the past few days felt very different. Ever since Thaniel ran off into the woods and gotten kidnapped by the ramphyr he’d been on her every chance he got. Served her right really…

  “You know, with the smell coming from the tannery, people won’t know you don’t bathe.” He sniffed loudly.

  The town, a bunch of dark wooden structures, not a one of them built in a straight line, smelled like rot. A monstrous water wheel, suspended in the gorge that the tannery was built over, never stopped turning. The huge paddles churned a steady mist into the air, coating everything without a roof in a layer of slick moisture. Regardless of the fact that the sky overhead was the brightest blue she’d seen in years, the town was soaked.

  “I thought we were supposed to be keeping an eye out for Thaniel…” She turned to head in the opposite direction.

  “We? I’m not trusting you to keep an eye out for him. Seriously, why don’t you stay here?”

  “I am going to Di’Ghon. No one has to go with me.” She said flatly.

  “Right.” He rolled his eyes. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Thaniel will want to go to wherever you go, whether you deserve him or not.”

  “Di’Ghon is the right place for him.”

  “That’s not what you said at the keep. You said he was a monster. You said it was better he’d never been born.”

  “Things change.”

  Jorel shook his head unconvinced.

  “Why? Why did you change your mind? Because you’ve got the same thing he does?” He asked.

  “Well...” She started to say something but realized she didn’t really know how to finish it. “You make it sound like I’ve got leprosy.”

  “Listen, Thaniel,” Jorel’s voice softened, nearly breaking with the strain, “he’s real strong in some parts, and well… vulnerable in others. I don’t believe everything that old man says about him. And I definitely don’t think he’s some kind of monster.”

  “Telazno…” She started to explain.

  Jorel cut her off with a wave and a harsh glance.

  “Listen, I don’t know everything that happened between you two back in Ontar, but I know something happened, and I know you owe him for it. All I’m saying is that you should keep that in mind before you judge him, especially now that you both have… leprosy.”

  That was the word she used…

  Now that she knew the truth, having experienced it herself, continuing to think of him as a monster was impossible. How could she have ever thought of him like that anyway? Other than him being inborn, when had he acted like anything other than a delightfully charming boy, albeit a really awkward one, who couldn’t keep from tripping himself whenever he was around her? Thaniel climbed that tower three times to get her ice blossoms because he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask her to be his festival kiss.

  He had also done something very wrong. She couldn’t deny that now either. At first it didn’t seem like such a bad thing. I mean how bad could some warm weather really be? But Lars Telazno’s explanation of how horrible the act would turn out to be was based on such simple logic, that it couldn’t be denied.

  The warm weather shouldn’t be in the Anwarian Region. As a result, the vast mountain range covered in eons worth of snow and ice, was melting. Even the great glaciers, some of which Lars said were over ten leagues high would melt. With that much water making its way down from the high reaches, every brook, stream and river would be overrun with walls of raging white water. Settlements, towns, and even cities in its path would be wiped from the face of Arth as if they never existed. People would die by the thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands.

  Elycia remembered all too well how the wind howled through that chamber when he called the dra. Yet, now that she looked back on it all, she knew he hadn’t meant to do any harm. He just didn’t have any idea what he was doing.

  A sweet aroma of pheasant and cooked onions broke her concentration. Jorel was loudly sucking air around a scalding mouthful of meat pie. The way he was gingery shuffling the rest of the steaming pie back and forth, he looked like he was trying to decide which fingers he wanted to burn the least.

  She made a show of rummaging through a pile of brightly colored scarves in a street peddler’s covered cart while Jorel scanned their surroundings. The man had a messy bin full of perfectly hued purple and blue ones.

  “You got money girl?” The skinny gap toothed man’s voice resembled the sound a cat makes when its tail gets stepped on. It was more of a shooing off than a question. The wizened old hawker had sized her up for a beggar already.

  “You know you’d sell more of them if you took the time to fold them,” Elycia went to work without asking, the dirty man looking on while she made quick work of folding them in thirds and fanning them across in the top of the pile, “like that.”

  The man looked down at her handiwork with one eye.

  “Just like I thought. No money.” He waved her off and rumpled them back up and tossed them in the untidy pile. “Get along before you scare away someone who has coin.”

  As if on cue, a rotund lady wearing a dress about ten sizes too small, at least at her bosom that threatened to spill out, sauntered in. She was looking down her nose at his wares with a pursed scowl. Elycia knew the type. She’d already spotted what she wanted and was just stalling, hoping to entice the hawker into lowering his price for a casual walker-by.

  “We’ve got money you no-tooth wretch,” Jorel said, his voice rising in volume with every word, “but we don’t have time to pick out all the lice!”

  The fat lady jumped back from the hawker with a curse. She moved a lot faster than a woman of her size should be able to, back-stepping furiously while she swatted her sleeves with desperate flicks of her hands.

  The hawker glared at the two of them.

  Jorel was at that point of growth where nothing seemed the right size. He was either the gangliest stretched out boy or the scraggliest man she’d ever seen. His neck seemed too long to support his oversized head. His wrists seemed to go on forever. His legs were too long and skinny. But none of that slowed him a bit as they bolted up the street away from the irate hawker.

  “He gave up.” Jorel peeked around the edge of a small shop entrance. He was still giggling.

  “Serves him right.” The man would definitely sell more if he kept things neat and displayed them right. Father had always made her tend the wagon’s displays. Every time a customer came through messing things, her job was to slip in after they were done and tidy back up. He was always saying that without her touch he wouldn’t sell a thing.

  “So tell me, do you really like him?”

  “He’s a nasty peddler.”

  “Not him.”

  Elycia stiffened. He was talking about Thaniel.

  “That’s none of your business.” The truth was she didn’t know what to feel. For the entire crazy race down the pass her mind had been swimming in circles.

  “Are you saying you don’t?”

  “Listen Jorel, if a girl doesn’t like a boy, then that’s it.”

  “Just like a girl to not really answer the question. You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at him in the courtyard? I saw that blossom the same as he did.”

  “So what?”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of girl to wear a blossom for a boy she doesn’t like.”

  “Things change. People change.”

  “So, you like him if he’s not an inborn.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “First, he’s good enough for you in Ontar. Hence, the blossom. Then when you find out he lights up some statue thing, he’s no good, which you don’t seem to mind as long as you’re on your merry way to Navi
llus. Then he supposedly changes the weather and he’s even worse. Then you find out you’ve got what he’s got and now, what? He’s good again and everybody’s going to Di’Ghon?”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? I think it was like that. And you know what else? I’ll bet my pants that once he finds out you are going to Di’Ghon he’ll be going there too.”

  “I am not making him go. He needs to.”

  “You’re cracked. If we find him he’ll go wherever you want and all you can do is look at him like he’s a monster. You want to see a monster? Maybe you should see if one of these shops is selling a mirror.”

  Elycia studied the paving stones.

  Suddenly it got very quiet.

  “When Thaniel first got to the hole.” Jorel started, his head hanging low, “I heard him cry. He used to call out to his mother and little sister in his sleep.” His lips twisted a little to one side, “Other than snatch a few honey cakes now and again from the kitchen I haven’t seen him do anything wrong. Ever. Especially not to hurt anybody, especially not you, whether you deserve it or not.”

  “Thanks.” It was all she could think of to say.

  “You know how we became friends?” It was hard to tell if there were tears in Jorel’s eyes because of the mist in the air, but they were red and watery.

  Elycia waited.

  “You know Ghile?” He asked.

  Elycia stiffened.

  “What about him?”

  Jorel kicked a pebble off into the middle of the street. He looked like he didn’t want to tell her anymore.

  “The day Thaniel came I was picking on Ghile in the courtyard.”

  Elycia’s eyes narrowed.

  She had to remind herself that she alone knew Ghile was really a ramphyr. A lot of people mistreated Ghile in Ontar Hold. It wasn’t just the children who were ruthless. It seemed the whole place dumped their frustrations on the pitiful man. The Ghile that Jorel knew was just a simple minded bent back cripple limping around Ontar Hold.

  “Well, Thaniel saw me with a bunch of kids all gathered round. We were having some real fun rubbing horse dung on his face.” Jorel’s mouth twisted up. “You know what Thaniel did?”

  Regardless of what she knew about Ghile, a spark of anger bloomed in her heart. People who picked on the helpless were the worst. Elycia shook her head, waiting. She could imagine a newcomer, in the hopes of blending in, jumping at the chance to join a bunch of kids picking on a helpless cripple like Ghile.

  “He kicked the crap out of me. That’s what he did. Called me every dirty name he could think of while he did it too. Made me apologize in front of everybody and sent the lookylews packing. Little Thaniel. Half my size.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how we were friends after that, but we were. I never picked on Ghile again. None of those kids did, at least not around Thaniel. Or me.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve, “If it wasn’t for Thaniel, I’d still be smearing horse dung on a cripple in Ontar Hold.” He spit onto the paving stones. “Question is, where would you be?”

  Shame poured on her head like he’d dumped it out of a flagon. She wanted to run away, but her feet felt like they weighed a ton. She knew exactly where she would have been if not for Thaniel. If he didn’t show up in the cistern room right when he had...

  “That’s what I thought.” Jorel shot her a disgusted look before he walked away at a furious pace.

  Elycia tried to fight back the trembling fear that still raced through her when she thought of Keriim. Not wanting anyone to see the tears running from her eyes, she hung her head and hoped the shaking would stop before she made it back to the others.

  When she finally looked up it was to the sound of horseshoes striking stone. She recognized the garb they wore immediately. Three riders, all wearing the crimson robes and armor of the First, were stopped in front of the dirty hawker.

  Instinctively she ducked around a corner. At first she thought maybe they were just some distant patrol, but there was something about the way the gap-toothed hawker grinned as he pointing up the road the way Jorel and she came.

  The three men turned their heads, letting her get a look at their faces. Elycia blinked through the mist. She didn’t want to believe her eyes.

  Her breath caught in her throat, threatening to choke her life away.

  One of the soldiers was Keriim.

  He was grinning from ear to ear.

  Chapter 43

  Lanky Stride

  Thaniel crouched in the cover of the bushes as they watched a small band of Ontar soldiers ride into the tannery. Six men in all thundered past, their horses and the lower portion of their uniforms covered in mud, as if they’d ridden hard all the way from Ontar.

  While some people might have a hard time telling one crimson clad soldier from the next, Thaniel knew the First when he saw them. The cut and weave of the crimson garb they wore was the finest available. Almost every soldier in Ontar wore armor of some kind. But the First were the only ones who wore highly decorated plate mail, every inch of which shone like gleaming silver.

  Thaniel cocked his head. It was very possible that a patrol would head this far south. After all this was still Ontar land, but the First usually let the standard troops run the more distant patrols.

  When he was travelling with the others he hadn’t seen any tracks out in front of them. That meant that the soldiers must have left after they had. Thaniel grit his teeth, thinking that it all could only mean one thing.

  Lisella Ontar wanted him back.

  “You’re a popular boy.” Ghile said with a smirk.

  The men followed the same set of wagon ruts that had told them Lars Telazno and Gabril had somehow beaten them down the mountain. They obviously thought he was still with them. The soldiers rode into town three abreast right up to where the cobblestone started and the ruts disappeared. Three soldiers stopped by a hawker’s wagon. The rest split up, every man heading in a different direction.

  “Stay here. I’m going for a closer look.” Ghile said and he walked casually out onto the path. His gait was a shifty saunter that favored one leg more than the other. His arms swung a little too far in the front and his head bobbed up and down like he was keeping the beat to a tavern tune.

  Thaniel took the opportunity to get a better look at the place. Even from this far back the thing that instantly demanded his attention was a giant water wheel that poked over the rooftops of most of the low squat structures in the town.

  Off to the right a forest of long leather hides hung swaying in a light warm breeze. A mist rose into the sky over the place. There was a fair amount of activity going on in the town. People were about the business of life. This close he would have been able to hear at least snippets of what was going on, but the rumbling of rushing water drowned everything else out.

  Ghile turned and gave him one last look before he disappeared around a corner.

  One of the soldiers hung back on this side of town an extra minute or so, keeping an eye roving back and forth. Finally the man rode into an alleyway.

  The moment the soldier passed, a figure slid into the street. He came out from behind a stack of crates and was moving fast.

  Thaniel recognized the long lanky stride immediately.

  Jorel.

  Chapter 44

  Safe

  “Jorel.” Thaniel whispered.

  His lanky friend turned around like he’d been slapped. Jorel stared at him for a moment as if he didn’t believe his eyes. Then he ran over to him and lifted him into the air with a bear hug.

  “You escaped!” Jorel set him back down and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean not exactly? You got captured by a ramphyr.”

  “A ram-what?”

  “Half man-half monster…” Jorel grimaced.

  “Did you hit your head?” Thaniel stopped him before he had an episode of it.

  “Telazno and Gabril said you were taken by a ramphyr. Sucks people�
�s blood and stuff through their hands…” Jorel was looking more worried by the second. He glanced down at Thaniel’s hands like he expected to see claws.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “It’s the truth. It took me forever to calm Elycia down after she saw it sucking the life out of the ox.” Jorel peeked out the windows again nervously.

  “I never saw any ramphyr. I got hurt running back to the keep and all of a sudden Ghile’s there, but it’s not Ghile. It’s like a.. Super Ghile.”

  Jorel started to laugh.

  “I thought you said Ghile,” He said with a grin that changed a little when he looked Thaniel in the eye, “the cripple…” Jorel chuckled nervously as he considered him a little closer.

  “I did say Ghile.”

  “You’re serious aren’t you?”

  “Jorel, it’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got one of my own from Lars and Gabril.”

  “I’m sure. Look, I don’t know who to believe, but things have gotten more complicated. Where’s Elycia and Harkanin?”

  “Harkanin’s waiting on the back side of the next street with the wagon.” He said as they both ducked into a shop selling rows of tallow candles and honey. “If we see you, we’re supposed to head across the dam in the wagon first to let them know you’re coming. Kind of like a big yellow and green flag.” Jorel ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to dislodge something. “Nobody figured you’d escape.”

  “Where’s Elycia?”

  “Did you see the First?”

  Thaniel noticed he changed the subject. Jorel was a tough one to nail down. He decided to let it go for a moment.

  “Six of them. There’s only one reason they’re this far south.” Thaniel grimaced. Every day further away from Ontar Hold made it easier to believe they were actually free of Lisella’s reach. Dread clenched his stomach at the thought of going back to Ontar.

  “All that for a lit up statue?” Jorel asked, suspicious.

  “So, where’s Elycia?”

  “After all that, you still…” Jorel looked a little sheepish.