by John Booth
Don didn’t see things quite the same way. He knew he shouldn’t have committed to the early attack and he didn’t have the time to wonder why he wasn’t dead as a result. As he pressed Jalia back with attacks of increasing ferocity, he believed he was winning.
Jalia had been around moving in a large circle to stay within the light. She had her back to the large wood fire and saw the danger it represented. Don saw that possibility too and renewed his attacks with greater vigor, forcing Jalia back towards the flames.
As her back started to get uncomfortably hot, Jalia considered her options. She flicked a glance at the fire and noticed the end of a log sticking out. The log was about two inches in diameter and at least three feet long. All but the last foot of the log was buried deep in the fire, blazing away.
Jalia tossed her sword from her right hand to her left and continued parrying Don’s attacks without noticeable pause. Don found it difficult to engage as combating a left handed swordsman requires differently placed strokes. Changing mental gears in mid fight is difficult and he found himself taking a step back.
As soon as he moved, Jalia spun and went into a crouch. She reached for the log in the fire and dragged it free. Several of the traders on the other side of the fire scattered as burning logs spilled out at their feet.
A burning branch at night is a formidable weapon. It burned so fiercely that it left afterimages in Don’s vision as he batted it away with his sword. He had to look at it to protect himself, but Jalia didn’t. She kept her eyes firmly on Don’s feet, relying on the heat and brightness of the log to keep Don from being able to strike at her.
The log was starting to burn her hand, only its flaking bark giving her any protection from the heat of the wood at its core. Jalia had no choice but to get rid of it. She flung the log at where she thought Don’s face should be. Jalia tossed her sword back into her right hand and went on the attack.
Don used his left arm to deflect away the flaming log, cursing as he heard rather than felt the surface skin of his arm hiss. A few moments later the pain struck. It was only a superficial burn, but the body tends to resent its owner doing such things and gives out pain to let them know. Worse than that, he could only half-see Jalia for all the purple blotches in his vision.
The strength of Jalia’s attack astounded him. It was only the superior reach of his sword and stronger muscles that gave him any advantage. Even left handed she proved every bit as good as him. Now he felt the force of her attack and he was hard pressed to stay alive. Even if he could have seen properly, he would not have prevailed against her. As it was, his sword was knocked out of his hand and he stumbled over a root and fell to the ground.
“Twice,” Jalia stated as she pressed the tip of her sword against his Adam’s apple. “Yield or die.”
Cara had already made her decision and stepped forward drawing her sword. “Kill Don and you will have to kill me.”
Daniel moved forward even faster than Cara and stood between the two women his hands outstretched as if to push them away from each other.
“Kill me bitch!” Don goaded. He chuckled, despite the pain in his left arm. “I win either way.” A red battle mist was playing around Jalia’s outer vision and she tensed her muscles in preparation to strike.
“Hold!” Daniel commanded. His words floated in a dark void around Jalia and she tasted them in her mind. At the last moment she decided to stay her strike. However, her arm stayed poised as she waited to hear what Daniel had to say.
“You want your revenge, Don, but all you will get for your troubles is death for you and your family.”. A second later, his sword was ripped out of its scabbard coming to rest with its sharp point against Cara’s throat. Even though Cara had her own sword drawn and was ready, Daniel’s move was so fast and unexpected she made no countermove and was helpless and at Daniel’s mercy.
“No big battle, Don. No attack on Jalia, just the death of your sister a second after yours.”
“My Mother will kill you. You won’t live another week before you come to join us,” Don spat out defiantly. He could see that Jalia was breathing hard and there was wildness in her eyes. Better to be dead than defeated, he thought and one more push would do it.
“Hala, would you come here?” Daniel asked in surprisingly gentle voice. Cara didn’t dare move her head but her eyes flicked to the side to watch a hesitant child stand up and walk towards them.
“I just want you to tell these people some things about yourself, Hala,” Daniel continued. “Just speak loud and tell the truth.”
Hala nodded. She felt nervous and uncomfortable standing in front of everyone. The tension in the air had the hairs on her body raised and she knew death might follow her words, even if it was not death for her.
“Tell everybody your name,” Daniel suggested.
“Hala.”
“Your full name, Hala.”
“Hala Taldon.”
“Tell the people about the Taldon Clan. How it used to be until a week ago.”
“We lived in a big Fort on the top of a hill. The Taldon Clan has lived there forever. There were lots of us, more than three dozen adults and a few kids. My Great Uncle Mallon demanded tribute from the local villages so we never had to work. We had slaves to do things for us. What we were good at was fighting. My father, Trik, was second in command.” Hala suddenly found she was crying and as the tears rolled down her face. She pointed at Blaze. “That was my father’s horse until he died.”
The camp had been fairly quite since the moment that Jalia sword touched Don’s throat. Now, as Hala spoke and wept, the silence dropped to absolute.
“What happened to your family, Hala?” Daniel asked gently.
“You two killed them all, all of the Taldon Clan, but us little ones. You burnt them alive,” Hala said between gulps. She couldn’t stop the tears flowing as she spoke. “Jalia killed my father with her knife, because he tried to stop her,” she said. She then added with a touch of pride, “He wasn’t a good man, but he wasn’t a stupid one either.”
“Why did we kill the Taldon’s?”
“Adon Taldon, the heir to Mallon, robbed you. You killed him getting your things back and my family tried to take revenge.”
“Thank you. Go and sit down.”
Hala, still sobbing, walked away and sat where she had been before.
Daniel kept his eyes focused on Cara, as he had during the entire conversation with Hala.
“The way I see it, Jalia, once we have killed these two, we go back down the road and kill the other Marin’s. We have no choice, since Don is much too stupid to yield.”
“I yield!” Don shouted, cutting the skin of his throat against Jalia’s sword in his eagerness to be heard. “I yield!”
Daniel dropped his sword from Cara’s throat. She stared at him with a look of horror on her face. Jalia backed away from Don, almost bumping into Daniel. With one smooth motion, her sword was back in its scabbard. She leaned against Daniel and took his arm in hers and gave it a loving squeeze.
“I knew that reason would prevail in the end,” Daniel said cheerfully, putting his sword back in its scabbard.
Jalia let go of Daniel and went to sit beside the weeping Hala.
“Don’t think that because of this you are getting out of knife practice tonight. There is a tree over there that you can throw at.”
Hala smiled, “I might not be very good tonight.”
“All the more reason to practice then.” Jalia smiled back. “You saved a lot of lives tonight, Hala. I’m proud of you.”
“My father used to beat me and treat me like dirt,” Hala said, “But I still miss him, Jalia. I had forgotten how much I missed him until now.”
“I miss my father too.” Jalia sighed. “He was killed by Sand Fairies in the Atribar el’Dou desert a couple of years ago.”
“That’s two more things in one sentence that I was sure were mythical.”
“Most myth has a basis in fact,” Daniel said as he sat on the othe
r side of Hala.
Jalia watched Cara and Don. Cara had gone to her brother and offered her hand to help him up. He ignored her and got to his feet without her help. They started talking in angry whispers, too far away to be overheard.
“Do you think we have solved that problem?” Jalia asked nodding towards the Marin siblings.
“Don won’t try to escape and go home. As for Brila Marin and the rest of her family, who can tell?” Daniel replied thoughtfully. “That will be a bridge we have to cross when we come to it…, if we ever come to it.”
21. Boathaven
At Marin’s Farm
Brila Marin waited impatiently for the adults of the family to gather for the meeting. Seven days had passed since her dead son had been returned to his family, seven long days she had waited for Cara and Don to return to tell her that her son’s killers were dead. Seven long empty days.
Brila waited for her family to come to the Meeting Lodge, the last building her husband constructed before his untimely death. It was a large stone walled thatched roofed building, thirty feet by twenty with a tiled floor. The only furniture inside was a large table with benches at each long side and two massive chairs, one at each end. The table was twenty feet long and eight feet wide. Planks of hardwood had been cut and fitted together so artfully you could hardly see joins between them. The wood had been stained and varnished until it shone a purple red, like a sunset after a storm.
The table was dominated by three massive wooden candelabra that squatted on its polished surface. There was still enough light coming through the open windows so the candles did not need to be lit.
Brila had given birth to thirteen children. Ten of them entered the room; seven of them brought their spouses with them. They took up positions, according to their age, relative to the chair at the end, the chair that Brila sat upon.
Brila waited until they were all seated before she spoke.
“I have gathered the family together because it is seven days since Bril’s body was brought home to us. It is seven days since Cara and Don were sent on their mission from which neither has returned. Anton returned this morning, and now he has had a few hours rest, we can begin.”
All eyes turned to Anton Stone when Brila named him. Anton was in his mid-twenties, a handsome man with fair hair and a winning smile. He was respected within the family for his brains and integrity. Anton was happily married to Marta Marin and they had three children at Brila’s request. At that moment, he looked haggard and everyone knew he returned along with two exhausted horses that very morning, after nearly a week away.
“Mik,” Brila said and Mic jumped up at her call. “Tell us once again what happened at Pegars Ford.”
Mik hesitantly retold the story of how he, Cara and Don decided to ambush the traders when they completed the crossing of the ford. He described Daniel and Grilt in some detail, telling how they crossed the ford without incident. He described how Jalia had stumbled with three horses in tow and how her own quick thinking and that of the young girl on the biggest horse of the three had saved her life.
He described how Jalia took Cara prisoner and how he went to her rescue.
“Jalia told Cara outright that she killed Bril with her own hands and how he deserved to be dead,” he stuttered. The room was silent for a moment except for the impatient drumming of Brila’s fingers on the massive table.
There were some titters of disbelief as Mic explained how Daniel defeated him in unarmed combat. Brila’s glare silenced their laughter and Mic stopped talking, unable to think of what to say next.
“I should have killed Gef and Tom Fasser years ago,” Brila said coldly. “We knew they were up to no good, but since they left us alone we left them alone. They should be thankful they did not survive that raid.”
“Tom was shot through the eye with an arrow. You don’t want to know where the arrow hit Gef,” Mic said, indicating with his hands the exact point. “And poor Torin was separated from his head as neat as if he’d been executed.”
“Enough!” Brila shouted through gritted teeth. “Jalia al’Dare and Daniel al’Degar killed my beloved Bril and now they have killed Cara and Don.”
“You don’t know that for certain, Mother,” Tobe, Brila’s oldest son and heir to the farm said hesitantly. His mother was seething with a cold anger and Tobe knew just how painful it could be to oppose her.
“Be quiet!” Brila shouted, cowing her oldest son into submission. “Does anybody believe that Don would not be back here by now if he was still alive?”
Everybody around the table shook their heads reluctantly. Don hated to be away from home for even an hour longer than necessary. He doted on his mother and would never have kept her waiting if he could have prevented it.
“I sent Anton to Sweetwater and beyond to find out about these two child killers,” Brila continued. “He went as far as Telmar before returning to us.”
There were gasps around the room. To ride to Telmar and back in seven days was quite a feat, even riding two of the family’s finest horses in relay. No wonder Anton looked tired.
Several of the young women looked at Anton with covetous eyes. They thought that it was a crying shame he was so devoted to Marta.
“Tell us what you learnt, Anton,” Brila said quietly, sitting down to let her son in law take center stage.
“What I am about to tell you is unbelievable, but I swear that every word is what I was told myself,” Anton began. “These people, al’Dare and al’Degar have been traveling from the west for the last two years. People tell stories about them in Telmar that are hard to believe. That they ended the rule of the mad King of Ranwin, killing an army of his men single-handed. That they took on and killed slavers wherever they found then, freeing their slaves. These stories must be exaggerations and lies, they cannot possibly be true.” Anton paused.
“What can you tell us that is true?” Brila asked.
“They helped destroy the Miners Association control at Brinan, becoming the leaders of a popular uprising. No one knows what became of all the Association’s gold. People in Telmar claim these two assassinated the rest of the Miners Association when they reached Telmar. I met a guard who swears he walked into a room to find all the remaining members dead in their chairs, with those two in the process of robbing their bodies.”
“And recently?” Brila probed.
“They arrived in Sweetwater covered in blood and weaponless except for a single dagger. They killed the two men that robbed them. One of those men was Adon Taldon.”
There was another gasp. Every member of the family knew of Taldon’s Fort. It was a dark legend parents told their children to stop them straying too far from home.
“Are the Taldon’s after them?” Mic asked in awe.
“The Taldon’s are no more. Only a few of their children and their freed slaves now occupy the fort.”
“I met Mallon Taldon once,” Brila told them. “Your father and the six other men we were with persuaded him we were more trouble to rob than it was worth. He would never tolerate his son being killed.”
“All the adult Taldon’s, every single one of them, were burnt to death at Sweetwater. It was difficult to get the locals to tell me anything about it. They pretend it never happened. I got one of them drunk enough to talk. Al’Dare and al’Degar did it; virtually single handed, if the man I spoke to is to be believed.”
“We will have to go after them in force,” Tobe stated firmly. “They will have reached Boathaven by now and the boat to Slarn will leave before we can get there. I don’t know how the family remaining behind will manage the harvest. Its mid-summer now and we will be gone for at least two months…” Tobe’s voice faded as he considered the enormity of the task ahead.
Brila smiled at Tobe. “It is good to see that you know your duty to family, my son. Sometimes I think you are too soft to be my heir and it is good to hear otherwise. However, I have decided on another course of action. I will not risk more members of my family against these demon
s.”
The family stared at her in surprise. It was unthinkable that she would not seek revenge and what other course of action could there be?
“Tobe and Anton will set off tomorrow morning for Bagdor. They will take four of our best horses and ride them in relay. When they reach Bagdor, they will go to the Assassins Guild. They will take this with them.”
Brila slammed a heavy bag of gold onto the table where it thumped so loud one of the younger women let out a yelp.
“They will ask to speak to Allin Grogal. If I know Allin. He will be high in the guild by now. Perhaps he has already achieved his ambition to become Chancellor. Tobe and Anton will place a contract with the Assassins Guild to kill al’Dare and al’Degar. To make sure they do their job swiftly, you will inform Allin of this.”
“Two more bags of gold await them on the successful completion of the contract, provided that the heads of al’Dare and al’Degar are placed upon my table before the first snows of winter. Tell Allin that Mic has seen them and will recognize them when he sees their heads.”
“Mother, isn’t Grogal your family name?” Mic asked.
“Allin Grogal is my younger brother,” Brila said without emotion. “Set off at dawn and ride like you were a Magician King with the Fairie hot on your trail.”
“So that is what Boathaven looks like,” Jalia said with satisfaction. She and Daniel had ridden ahead of the traders that morning. They looked down at a large town in the distance. It might contain several thousand people, as it was certainly big enough.
From where they stood, they could see the waste expanse of the River Jalon as it wound its way down the valley towards Telmar. Another river, dwarfed by the Jalon, but still big in its own right, lazily snaked its way to join the Jalon. That river passed straight through Boathaven. Four large ancient bridges spanned its banks until it reached a large and unnatural bay.
A semicircle of stone, half a mile across created a massive basin of water in the side of the river. The western half of the basin was clogged with mud washed down from the mountains, but the eastern side was clear. From their position, high on a ridge, Jalia and Daniel looked down on a working harbor, with jetties and cranes for loading and unloading goods. At one end of the harbor, a massive boat was moored. White wood smoke curled lazily from its funnel.