The Guide

by Trudie Collins

  “This is something I brew myself,” he explained, removing the stopper and handing her the bottle. Sam sniffed it. It reminded her of brandy. Putting it up to her lips, she was about to take a mouthful when Seth yelled out. “Stop. You are supposed to take just a sip.”

  Sam did this and instantly regretted it. It felt like she was swallowing liquid fire. It burned its way down her throat, leaving her coughing violently. By the time she had finished, tears were rolling down her face and she found she could not talk. She did, however, feel a lot warmer.

  “Not ready for that I guess.” Then Seth looked slyly at Salabine and grinned wickedly. He got up and casually sauntered over to the dragon, who had been listening to the conversation with interest.

  “Do dragons only drink water, or are you up for trying something a little stronger?” he asked, offering the bottle.

  Salabine had seen the effect the drink had on Sam, but just smiled down at Seth. “I prefer ale, but will give anything a try.” With that she took the bottle in her claws and proceeded, much to Seth’s horror, to pour the entire contents down her throat. “Not bad,” she said, her voice slightly strained, as she handed back the empty container. Nobody heard Seth’s mumbled comments about it being his only bottle as they were drowned out by Salabine belching loudly. Fire flamed over the camp, making everyone dive to the ground for cover. The poor dragon was mortified and, when she had apologised numerous times, she slunk off into the trees in embarrassment.

  Shortly a sound could be heard, coming from the direction that she has set off in. “Is she singing?” Ellen asked, incredulously.

  “She is drunk. Serves her right for drinking so much. She was only supposed to take a mouthful. I hope she has a hangover in the morning.”

  Seth was not at all amused when it was pointed out to him that she had only taken a mouthful. Her mouth was large enough to fit five times the amount, without removing the contents from the bottle first.

  For a while they all sat in silence, listening to Salabine singing. It was a beautiful sound. Sam looked around at her companions then sighed. “If you had told me a month ago that I would be spending an evening sitting around a camp fire with a dwarf, a knight, a pleasure slave, an acrobat, a witch, a vampire, a Prince turned woodsman and his servant, a giant, a blind man, a wizard, two sprites, a kid, a walking corpse, a wolf and a creature the likes of which only exists in fantasy novels, no offence, while listening to a drunk dragon sing, I would have said you were crazy. Just before coming here I was told I would be going on a journey. Looks like Sally got that right.”

  Suddenly the sound stopped and the silence was broken by a thud, like something hitting the ground, followed by a noise so loud the ground was actually shaking. Samson put his paws over his ears.

  “I do not bloody believe it,” Seth exclaimed. “Now she is bloody well snoring. How is anyone supposed to get any sleep with that noise in the background?” Grabbing his fishing gear from where he had placed it in the back of the wagon, he stomped off, muttering. Dal leapt up and ran after him.

  They returned in the morning, with enough fish for breakfast. The fire had died down during the night, so Salabine relit it for them, before bidding them a fond farewell and flying off to find her own food. She was muttering about her head hurting, much to Seth’s pleasure. Samson lay by the fire, pretending to sleep, though everyone noticed him eying the cooking fish whenever he thought nobody was looking. He was not very impressed when Ellen informed him that there was only just enough to go around so he had to find his own food. He looked at her with such a mournful expression on his face that Sam almost gave up her own breakfast for him.

  “No,” Ellen told him. “You never show any gratitude; you leave your hair all over my clothes and you slobber all over me. Go catch your own meal for once, you lazy mongrel.” The wolf slunk slowly away, toward the river. “And take another bath while you are at it,” she yelled after him.

  They were just finishing breakfast when Samson bounded into the campsite, dripping wet. He ran up to Ellen and shook himself, sending water flying in all directions, mostly over her. Screaming, she threw her empty bowl at him, just missing as he danced out of its way. It almost sounded like he laughed.

  “That will teach you to not show a wild animal the respect he is due,” Tor told her, grinning.

  “That mutt is no more a wild animal than you or I are,” she replied sternly. “If I get my hands on him we will be having a nice meat stew tonight.”

  “He was only playing.” Tor reached out his arm to place it comfortingly around her shoulders, yelling out as she smacked the back of his hand with her spoon.

  “Looks like you had better apologise to the lady, Samson.” The wolf looked at Tor, barked once then ran dancing off into the woods. Ellen sat on the ground with her legs crossed and started to sing gently. Her dress began to glow slightly and Sam could see the water actually rising from it. Within minutes her clothes were dry and clean again.

  “She wouldn’t really hurt Samson would she?” Sam asked Seth, who had just walked up.

  “Let me put it this way. The last time she threatened to cook someone, Patrick stayed away from the camp for a few days, deciding not to take the risk. She only wanted to boil certain parts of his anatomy from what I recall.”

  The next few days were uneventful. They ate the remaining fish for breakfast, bread and cheese for lunch and whatever game Hawk managed to capture was either roasted or turned into stew in the evenings. They ran out of vegetables, so River and Oak found some wild roots, which turned out to be surprisingly tasty. They looked a little like parsnips, but tasted far better, both fried and in the stew. Salabine returned each evening and left again the next morning. Hawk continued to sleep all day and keep watch at night. They spent many hours talking around the fire after the sun had set and Sam learned a lot about the people she was travelling with and about the way of life in general in the strange world she was now a part of.

  During the journey, Tor had been teaching Seth how to track and the lessons continued while everyone else made camp. It was still just light enough and they were back in plenty of time to help prepare the food. Dal went with them, though Sam was not sure why, as he seemed to take no interest in the lessons. Maybe it was just an excuse to get away from the others for a while, or perhaps he just thought he could avoid work. He came back the first night grumbling that Tor had made him put his hand in animal droppings, as the temperature could indicate how long they had been on the ground and, therefore, how close the animal may be. The second night, however, he came back very excited, shouting and yelling as he ran into the camp.

  “We saw a stag. We saw a stag. He was pure white with the largest antlers you can ever imagine. He looked straight at me and I am sure he nodded, before turning away. He was beautiful.”

  Tor followed him, with Seth trailing behind. “The lesson went well. It would have gone better if this young fool had not scared the poor animal away by showing himself. We had been tracking it for at least half an hour. Would be tracking it still if we had left Dal behind.” He turned to Seth. “You are becoming a pretty good tracker. You should be ready to start lessons in hunting soon.”

  Dal looked crestfallen. “Hunting,” he said, incredulously. “Here I am describing one of the most magnificent beasts I have ever seen. Present company excepted of course,” he quickly added, spotting Salabine watching him out of the corner of his eye. “And you talk about hunting. You amaze me.”

  Gently placing his hands on Dal’s shoulders, Tor explained. “What do you think we would be eating if Hawk was not with us to provide meat each day and if Seth did not manage to catch all those fish? When travelling you have to be able to take care of yourself and that includes finding your own food. While River and Oak are happy eating fruit and nuts, you and I need our meat and unfortunately, that is all that a beautiful creature like that stag is when you are hungry.” Cuffing him gently round the head he added, “Now grow up.” Dal pouted. This was not a good lo
ok for a boy who was in the process of becoming a man, but Sam decided not to point this out to him. He was, after all, still a teenager and she remembered how sulky teenagers were back home. They were probably no different here.

  The next day, when they stopped for lunch, Salabine honoured them with a surprise visit. Landing gracefully, she walked over to Sam to say goodbye. They were as close to civilisation as Salabine was prepared to go, but she promised to keep an eye on the group from afar and all they had to do was call her and she would answer. They were all sad to see her go; she had changed everyone’s opinions of dragons. They no longer saw them as the savage monsters that most people believed them to be, but as intelligent creatures with as many varied personalities as humans. While some attacked farms and stole cattle, others were calm and gentle and would never dream of harming a human; just the same as one man would beat and rob you while another would treat your wounds.

  A little later, as they rode out of a clump of trees, Tor called a halt. “You see that hill over there,” he said, pointing ahead of him. “Once we are past that, you will see Vada.”

  Unconsciously, they all quickened their pace slightly. Sam could not speak for the rest, but a hot bath was calling to her; at least she hoped the city had such things as a bath and hot water. As they crested the hill, the city appeared. It was much larger than Sam had been expecting and was surrounded by a huge wall. The South gate could clearly be seen, currently standing open. Tor had already explained that there was an identical gate on the other side. These were the only ways into the city. History had shown that the walls were impenetrable and the gates had been reinforced by magic. Only a few spires, belonging to the palace as Sam later found out, could be seen as all other buildings were hidden by the wall. As they slowly urged their mounts forward they heard a voice behind them.

  “Hello Tor. Long time no see.” Sam swung around, as did Tor, and they found themselves staring at a short man, with a long red beard, on top of a large black horse. He was in full armour, including helmet with full face plate, fully obscuring his features. “What are you doing here?”

  Tor smiled, visibly relaxing. “Hello Sabastian. It is good to see you. My friends and I are just passing through. Hopefully we can spend some time in the library on our way.”

  “I am afraid not, old friend. I am under orders to escort you and your friends to the King. He would like to talk to you and will not take no for an answer.” While talking, Sabastian had waved his arm forward. Before he had finished speaking, nearly a hundred fully armed knights and their warhorses trotted out of the trees and surrounded the group. They were prisoners.

  Chapter 8

  As Bellak started muttering, Tor just shrugged his shoulders. “I was planning on visiting Allias anyway. How is he?”

  Sabastian shook his head slightly and removed his helmet, revealing a stern face with a scar running from his left ear to the bridge of his nose. Though his voice was gruff and he spoke with a slight rasp, his light brown eyes sparkled with his genuine pleasure at seeing Tor. “Not good,” was all he would say on the subject. As they rode toward the city, Tor pressed him on the rumours of war, but Sabastian was very evasive in his answers, leaving Sam wondering if he was really friend or foe.

  Realising that further questions would not reveal anything more, Tor introduced Sabastian to the rest of the group. Ponnat Sabastian was an old friend, whom Tor first met while still a boy. Sabastian had been his tutor in war tactics and they had kept in touch after he had been recalled to serve in Vada. He was now Commander of the Royal army in Emvale, reporting directly to the King. He should have retired a few years ago, but whenever the conversation came up, the King always replied, “maybe next year”.

  “My successor has been selected and his training is almost complete,” Sabastian explained. “I am dreaming of living a quiet life in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by goats and sheep. The only thing the young commander-in-training is lacking is actual war experience, which is hard to come by when no wars are currently being fought. Yet,” he added ominously.

  Torrick urged his horse forward until he was level with Sabastian. “May I be of any assistance Commander?”

  “Captain Torrick? My apologies, but it is hard to recognise you without your armour, though I should have realised when Tor introduced you. Your skills are well known in Amenia.” He inclined his head slightly, with respect.

  “No apologies are necessary Commander. I am, after all, no longer a Captain.”

  “Not serving in an army does not stop you being a Captain. I bet you still polish your armour every day and go through the standard sword practice routines every night.” Sam smiled at this. Most evenings she has seen him wander off by himself with his sword. She had always wondered what he had been doing. Seeing Torrick blush slightly, Sabastian continued. “If you are planning on staying for a while, you may be of great help. I have been organising mock battles, but it is hard to get any real benefit with me having to organise both sides. If you took the other side, plans would have to be changed as the battle progressed. It would be a great learning experience for all of the soldiers.”

  Torrick looked at Tor, who nodded. Addressing Sabastian, he said, “I do not know how long I will be here, but it will be an honour working with you. You are also well known throughout the lands and studying some of your greatest victories was part of my training.” Before Sabastian could respond, Torrick saluted and fell back, to join his wife.

  “Speaking of retirement, I hear Hetta is slowly pulling Allias toward his own. How is she?”

  Sabastian looked at Tor and grinned. “With child.”

  Bellak, who was close enough to hear the conversation, rode closer. “Old fool. Why anyone would want a baby at his age, especially when he already has sons to carry on his line and a daughter to dote over, is beyond me.”

  Sabastian looked offended. “His wife wanted to have children and he loves her very much. Now if you will excuse me, I need to ride ahead to announce your imminent arrival.”

  “Warn Allias exactly who is coming to visit he means,” Bellak muttered, staring at his retreating back as he galloped into the distance. As he moved forward, Tor put out his arm to stop him.

  “Is there anything I should know before we get any closer?” he asked. Bellak shrugged, though whether that meant no or that he was pretending he had no idea what the younger man was talking about, Tor had no idea. He persisted anyway. “If you had warned me about your, let us call it a disagreement shall we, with King Fidel, we would not have spent two weeks in jail, we would not have had to escape without any of our belongings and we would not be in last place. We cannot afford unnecessary delays. So I ask again. Is there anything I should know?”

  Bellak looked at him fiercely. “No there is not and it is about time you started to show me the respect a wizard deserves.”

  “Men have to earn respect, wizards included.” Tor looked him straight in the eye. It was Bellak who looked away first, lowering his head and muttering as he rode away.

  “What’s his problem?” Sam asked when Bellak was out of ear shot. Tor sighed.

  “He was not always like this. When we started out on our journey he was very enthusiastic, eager to do anything to help. He even brought his wife and son along, both of whom could do magic. However, last year we got into a nasty little fight when we arrived at a clue at the same time as one of my brothers. His son was killed and his wife refused to have anything more to do with him, blaming him totally. She told him that their son would still be alive if they had not all been dragged away on a fool’s quest and that she would never forgive him. She left with my brother. Bellak has not been the same since. Now all that seems to matter is being the first to the next clue, as though maybe winning would make all of the pain and loss he has suffered worthwhile.”

  “That explains a lot, but it doesn’t justify him acting like an arsehole.”

  Tor laughed out loud. “I have never heard anyone described like that befo
re. It does seem rather fitting at the moment. Hopefully Bellak will be a bit more agreeable once he is allowed into the library.”

  They soon arrived at the entrance gate and were waved in. Sam noticed that everyone else entering were stopped and questioned. Having an armed guard obviously had some advantages. There were many houses on either side of the street, all three storeys high with balconies on the top floor. Washing could be seen drying on many of them.

  The main street was busy, mainly with farmers’ wagons carrying produce into the heart of the city, or returning empty to their lands. All moved out of the soldiers’ way, though whether out of respect or fear was not apparent. After nearly an hour they arrived at the central market square, which was filled with stalls selling everything from meat pies to lace. Seth told Sam that it was rumoured that nearly everything could be brought in the great market square in Vada, except for slaves, of course. You had to go to Kinfen for that. Sam had thought he was exaggerating, though now she could see the size of the market, she wasn’t so sure.

  Some of the smells coming from the various stalls made her mouth water and her stomach loudly told her how long it had been since she had eaten. Much to her embarrassment, one of the soldiers looked around and told her they would shortly be arriving at the palace, where refreshments would be available.

  It was not long before their destination came into sight. Sam was not sure what to expect, as the only palace she had ever seen was Buckingham Palace, which she always thought looked more like a stately home than somewhere royalty lived. She was impressed, very impressed. It was huge. It looked a lot like a castle, with twin towers at the front. The surrounding wall was high enough to prevent anyone climbing over it, yet small enough to allow most of the palace to still be seen, as though it was situated on the top of a hill.