by Billy Wong
"Not purposefully, I hope."
"Mostly not. Can't help it if some people get careless."
Mark exhaled. "Alright. I'll try to be daring."
"Don't try, do it. Think about it. What if, say... Lena was in danger? Would you want to be all scared trying to protect her, or do you want to fight at your best to do it?"
"My best, of course."
"Obviously. So why worry over getting hurt so much? Risking a wound or two is no big deal, as long as doing so gives you a better chance of surviving the fight. That's all that matters at the end of the day."
"You do give a pretty good lecture," Mark said teasingly. "I'm surprised."
Ann shrugged. "Well, it's not hard to learn... when you get lectured as much as I do."
Laughing, Mark threw an arm over her shoulders and hugged her close.
#
"So I was talking some more to Ulf," Ann said later in the day, "and he asked me if I knew any ways to make fighting those horse archers easier. I said walls before, but I've never actually fought them. You have any ideas, Mark?"
"Not really. We don't see many mounted archers in the city."
"A good first step," Kyle said, "would be to get some proper defensive gear, especially shields. I doubt shortbows would do much against a force equipped with ones like mine."
"Care to test that theory now?" a gruff voice called from above. The trio stopped and looked up, to regard a dark, stocky man training a bow upon them from the slope ahead. He was, naturally, mounted on an equally stout horse.
"What do you want?" Ann asked without much worry. "I hope you don't think you're going to rob us."
"I had not considered that, though I suppose your bodies would make good looting were I to kill you. You are trespassing on Ironhoof territory. Turn back if you do not wish to die."
"Ironhoof territory already? I thought we were still on Moonfang land?"
"They are expanding northward," Kyle said. "No reason why they wouldn't be doing it now."
"Well? Are you willing to turn back or not?"
Ann scowled. "What, on account of you? You think we're scared of one puny bow and arrows?"
The man whistled. At his signal, four more mounted warriors trotted into sight over the slope.
"Five puny bows and arrows. That's not very impressive." She grasped the hilt of her sword and started forward.
"No!" Mark said, grabbing her arm. "You'll be shot down before you can reach them."
"How do you know?" she asked in a menacing tone. "You haven't seen me try."
She probably was scared, Mark decided, and anger her way of masking her fear of being helpless.
Kyle shook his head. "Even if we could defeat them, what will we do when we encounter more of their friends? No, we should try and talk this out if we can."
"What is there to talk about?" the lead archer asked. "Either you leave... or you don't."
"Why will you not allow us to step foot on your land? We do not belong to any tribe that counts you as an enemy, and mean your people no harm. We are here simply to find a person, and nothing else."
"You may not dress like plainsmen, but how do we know who your friends are? We are hardly fools, to be ignorant of the tricks of civilized men."
"Don't you know who we are?" Ann snapped. "You may think you're strong with a bunch of little tribes for enemies, but defy me and you might learn how it feels to face a real army!"
"Oh? And just who, bold little girl, might you be?"
"Me? I'm Lady Ann, princess of Perfia, and the day I can't kick the poop out of five wimpy archers like you is the day I become a nun!"
The lead archer's eyes widened, and he leaned back in his saddle. "Lady Ann? The Demon's Daughter? I believe we should sit down and have a proper talk."
"See?" Ann said with a smug look at Mark. "I told you we had nothing to worry about!"
#
"And then she, the Demon's Daughter, reached into its mouth and tore out its tongue, and the Stone Toad that had terrorized the plains for years was no more!"
"So that's where you went that day you came back covered in slime," Kyle said after listening to the archers' tale of how Ann had become a folk hero even to tribes she had never encountered before. They had sat down where they met, and talked right there. Mark doubted the fact she was a princess alone would have mattered much to the tribesmen, but that she was a great fighter did. "You told me you fell in a hole."
"Didn't want you to worry," Ann said. "Never thought that toad could be the terror of the entire plains, considering how easy it was to kill."
"No weapon could pierce its hide," the lead archer Torg pointed out. While the Moonfangs had not really smelled like wolves, the Ironhoods certainly did reek of horse. "But you needed none to slay it."
"I was halfway inside its mouth. Not much time for me to draw one. Now, could we talk about something relevant to now?"
"Yes, yes. You said you were looking for a person?"
"My mother," Mark began, "a tall woman with light blonde hair-"
"-commonly known," Ann finished, "as Brianna the Brave."
"A hero like you, together with a hero's son? This is truly a unique occasion. Yes, she came here a while along, but-"
"You better not have harmed her," Ann said. At Mark's anxious look, she added, "Not that they could."
Torg's nostrils flared, and Mark hoped she would stop irritating him. "No. We had some misgivings, same as you, but she cleared them up. She offered to help us, in fact, but has not returned."
Mark's worry grew. "Help you? With what? Aren't you the ones who've been forcing other tribes north with your strength?"
"We are stronger in warfare than the others at this time, yes, but do you think we want to invade their lands? Fighting costs lives, and moving so far disrupts our community. We were perfectly content with our land the way it was. Besides, if our enemies united we would be hard pressed just to survive. But we've had no choice."
"Why not?" Kyle asked. "If it's some religious or political matter, there must be a way to resolve it peacefully."
"No, it is our land. It is failing, and without its ability to support us we must seek a place to live elsewhere. Worse, the farther north we go the further the dying seems to follow us. It is not a pleasant thought that the end of the world may start with our homeland."
Mark was taken aback. "The end of the world? What exactly is happening, and why does no one else know about it?"
"I think people do, in a way," Ann said. "Ulf said you were migrating because of a drought where you lived, though it sounds more serious than that."
Torg nodded. "We have seen and withstood dry spells before, but this is different. It still rains, yet most of the plants have died and the earth become infertile even where we keep it watered more than adequately. It is as if the very life has been sucked from the land."
Kyle's look turned thoughtful. "Extensive farming can wear out the land, but that is a gradual process and not something I tend to associate with nomads. The only time I have heard of such a drastic change happening so quickly is with the Vorhen."
The Vorhen! The barbaric sorcerers Brianna had led the war against—surely, there could still be some left? With a start, Mark remembered Torg's earlier words. "Wait, you said my mother agreed to help you. Where did she go after that? You said she hasn't come back..."
"She went into our old land," Torg said unhappily, "to try and figure out what the problem was. It appears she may have run into trouble."
"You let her go to fix your problem by herself? Why? What kind of warriors are you, to rely on a lone foreign woman to save you?"
Kyle and Ann stared at his uncharacteristic outburst, but Torg reacted with less anger than they might have feared. "We did not send her alone, but with a team of our best shamans and warriors. I understand your concern, for my brother too is among them."
Mark took on an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry about what I said. It sounds like you're doing the best you can. Did you ever tr
y to figure it out before, though, and if so what did you learn?"
"We did, but never found out much. Some of those who went to investigate did not come back."
"Even if it's not the Vorhen," Ann said, "I have very little doubt something strange is going on."
"Our thanks for telling us all you have," said Kyle. "Do we have permission to travel through your land?"
"Of course." Torg handed him a talisman made of dried bark and horse hair. "Here. If any of my people question your presence, show them this."
"Thank you. Is your old territory due south of here?"
"It is a large area, but yes. I do not, however, know where Brianna has gone."
Ann smiled. "No worries, we're used to finding our own way. We're heroes, right Mark? Good thing you realized that when you did, or I would have kicked your asses!"
Mark frowned at the look Torg regarded her with. It was a rare thing for a man's expression to combine amusement and annoyance.
Chapter 9
"I could have taken those five archers," Ann insisted late that day. "I almost wanted to challenge them to a friendly match before we left, but they probably didn't have any blunt arrows."
"Enough with you and beating up the horse archers," Mark said wearily. "Why do you keep bringing it up? Do you really hate those men that much? Let's just be glad it didn't come to that."
"I don't hate them. I don't know them very well, but Torg seems like a fine fellow and I have no grudge with his friends. The only reason I keep mentioning it is because you refuse to believe I could."
"Ann might manage to do it," Kyle muttered, "if she had to. She'd be a porcupine at the end, but she might still be able to stand."
Mark could not be sure if Kyle was flattering Ann or being honest. "I believe whatever Kyle does."
"If you value my opinion so much," Kyle said, "I have some advice. When we meet your mother, do not tell her who you are until we have a good sense of things."
"What? Why?"
"The situation may still be dangerous. By distracting her with such a monumental revelation, you could endanger her life and ours."
"I suppose you're right. I'll be happy enough just to find her." If he failed to hide his excitement, hopefully Brianna would take it to be a simple case of hero worship. "The Ironhoofs' territory must be huge, considering the strength of their tribe. How exactly will we find a small group of people in such a large place?"
"The fact there's no one to ask does make things harder," Ann said, "but there also shouldn't be anybody around besides Brianna and her group, except maybe some Vorhen. So once we find any sign of recent human activity, we should be able to follow the trail to them.
"What exactly do you plan on doing when you find her, anyway?"
Mark thought about it and shook his head. "I don't really know. I guess I just want to meet her, first of all. Everything else can wait until after I get to know her."
Ann smiled. "I like your plan."
"How's that? I don't even have one."
"That's the point. You do well to follow your heart."
Not that Mark necessarily disagreed, but life would probably be less frightening if he actually knew what he was doing. "Do you think the Duke of Arrith will send any more people after me? Why did the last one try to kill me instead of capturing me?"
"It would've been pretty hard for one man to sneak you out of the castle after knocking you out. But even though that guy was trying to kill you, doesn't mean the duke necessarily wants you dead. He might not mind much if you were, but if I was him I'd figure that even if the assassin failed, the attack might scare you enough to get you moving again. Once outside, of course, you would be vulnerable to another kidnapping attempt."
Mark hung his head. "So what you're saying is, we may have played right into his hands. Why didn't you tell me to go back before if you knew about this?"
"You think just because some conniving duke thinks he has everything figured out, that he does? It might have been safer to stay in the castle for the short term, but I'm not apt to being intimidated."
Kyle nodded. "I concur with Ann. Why let some villain's greed stop you from doing what you want?"
"I might have wanted differently if I'd thought of this." At Ann's probing look, Mark said, "I don't mind you not telling me, though. I do want to find my mother, and I'd likely be pretty miserable still holed up in the castle out of fear."
She slapped his back and grinned. "Attaboy, Mark, hiding doesn't suit a real man. Besides, you don't have to worry too much about more assassins. Seems our friend the Duke didn't account for how fast we move; whoever he sends after us now will have to get through two tribes' worth of barbarian lands before they catch up to us!"
"Still," Kyle said, "we should be careful. No telling what forces such a powerful man may bring against us."
#
They continued south, past the end of the Ironhoofs' new territory and into their old. The change was dramatic. Where the plains they previously crossed had been carpeted with hardy grass, the barren wasteland that suddenly lay before them hosted no plant life beyond the odd half-dead weed.
Ann bit her lip. "Torg wasn't kidding when he said his land was dying. This really does look like the beginning of an apocalypse."
"It is no ordinary drought," Kyle agreed. Indeed, damp soil gave under their boots from a recent rain, but the moisture seemed not to have helped the local flora one bit.
"Well, at least the ground is soft," Ann said. "Should make tracking a party fairly easy."
"If we're lucky enough to cross their path." At the sight of the vast grim vista before him, Mark's optimism was rapidly abandoning him.
"Patience, patience. That's all it'll take."
They began their wandering search of the land, and despite her words Ann soon proved her own impatience. Before the day ended she voiced her first gripe, then her second and her tenth. Kyle on the other hand soldiered on without complaint, attentively looking out for the clue that never came.
Though frustrated by the aimlessness of their quest, Mark did not complain. He was too busy mulling over the worries and doubts in his head to do that.
"I wish they'd have left some kind of markers for if their allies wanted to find them," Mark said eventually.
"Most markers can be recognized as such by a savvy foe," Kyle replied, "and they would not have wanted their presence known. Nor would I expect they were counting on anyone's help."
"Yeah, but we're here, aren't we?"
"Even if they did leave markers," Ann said, "those wouldn't cover a very large area. Besides, even assuming we were lucky enough to stumble onto them, that probably wouldn't help us much more than if we found the regular tracks they'd leave."
"You two agree pretty often for people who don't like each other," Mark observed.
Kyle shrugged. "We share the knowledge that comes with being a warrior."
They continued like this for days, and found that staring across identical-looking lifeless expanses for hours on end created a dreadful boredom. At the same time, Mark's fear he might never find his mother grew and grew. Wasn't there any better way to search?
The third day's rainstorm drenched the trio and left their pants weighed down with mud that splashed up around their feet, not to mention drove Ann to express her displeasure with increased volume and frequency. Mark only hoped the rain wouldn't wash away any signs of their passing his mother and her companions might have left.
Not until their fifth day of exploration did the trio encounter a clue, and a huge one at that. Lying under the skeletal branches of a rotting sapling, on its back with arms spread, was a body.
For a terrifying moment Mark wondered if it could possibly be Brianna, but a glance revealed it to be short and male. One of the Ironhoofs? Then he noticed the vertical scars of ritual disfigurement down the gaping face. A Vorhen?
"He was alive not long ago," Kyle said. "His body has barely started to decay."
Ann's face crinkled in disgust at
the corpse, which had begun to stink. "I wouldn't give him more than a couple days dead, though this wetness has sped him along. But I wonder if he's the sorcerer or one of his lackeys?"
In either case, the man appeared to have died from a wide wound in his chest like the sort made by an axe. Brianna used an axe. Kyle picked out faint tracks in the dirt presumably made by his killer, and followed them past the tree towards a cave at the foot of a low hill. Was she in there? Mark's heart pounded, and he reminded himself that he ought to somehow hide his excitement.
The initial tunnel sloped downward, but not for long before opening up into a sparsely furnished chamber lit by a fiery glow. Simple shelves stuffed full of rolled up parchments lined the walls. Sitting on a chair in front of a scroll-laden desk, with her back facing the entrance, was a woman with blonde hair.
"And who are you three?" she asked without turning.
"My name is-" Mark began without thinking.
"I'm Ann," the princess interjected smoothly, "and this is my bodyguard Kyle."
The woman turned, confirming her identity as Mark's mother. Her height equaled his, and she shared with him the bright blue eyes Lena were so fond of complimenting. Viewing her face clearly for the first time, he estimated her to be in her early forties, with features lined more deeply by decades of hardship than a typical noblewoman her age. She wore her traditional blue lioness surcoat over chain, and under that armor her figure looked solid as granite.
"I remember you," Brianna said warmly to Kyle. "You're Lady Lindy's squire, aren't you? You were much smaller then, though. And you must be Leo's daughter. You look as bold as I'd heard. But who's the other one?"
"This is my squire Ashley," Kyle replied. He was pretty quick-witted, Mark thought, for a big, quiet knight.
Brianna's eyebrows rose. "Really? He looks rather soft for a Perfian youth. And you're training him to be a knight?"
"Er, well, I've taken a liking to him," Ann said. "But any man of mine needs his share of manhood, which is why I ordered Kyle here to help me find his."
Mark sighed at the unfavorable first impression of him his companions were fostering upon his mother. Ann probably found it hilarious, but he didn't. Couldn't they have come up with a better explanation, like that he was a scholar or diplomat?
