The sixth man didn’t look like he fit in with the others. He was a small man, even shorter than Rindu himself, and slender. He moved as if he was a warrior, though, and Rindu knew that of the six, he was the most dangerous. He had a single sword, its hilt protruding above his left shoulder where the scabbard was strapped. Based on the worn leather of the handle, Rindu was sure the sword had seen heavy use. This was not a man to trifle with, he concluded.
Five of the men halted twenty feet away, stopping together at some unseen signal from the smaller man. He himself continued on until he was just a few feet away from Rindu. He stood there for a moment, looking over each of them. Rindu could not help but thinking that he was evaluating each, weighing them in his mind.
As the man looked them over, Rindu inspected him in turn. This close, he saw that the man was not so slender as he had appeared when in the midst of the larger, bulkier men. He was compact, but appeared well-muscled under his green clothing. From the glimpse he got of the man’s left palm, he knew he was correct about the sword. The palm was calloused from constant sword-work.
His clothing was of the upper class, finely cut and sewn, obviously tailored precisely for the man to allow him movement and protection. His green pants were tucked into boots that extended to mid-calf. His tunic was half unlaced, and on the belt buckled over it hung a large dueling dagger, crowded by throwing knives. Rindu did not doubt that he had other knives secreted about his person. The collar on his tunic extended up strangely to cover the man’s neck. Rindu did not see a need for that, but perhaps it was just a fashion consideration and not a functional one. On top of the man’s head was a cap that was roughly a triangle, doing nothing more than to keep the man’s hair from his face.
Looking into the man’s brown eyes, Rindu saw that he was evaluating Rindu’s evaluation of himself. His mouth twitched into a slight smile before dropping back into an expressionless line. “I,” the man pronounced, “am Danaba Kemp. And these, my fine companions,” he swept his arm to encompass the entire box canyon, “are proud members of the Red Fangs, the most notorious of bandit gangs. You may be suitably impressed now.” He laughed at his own joke.
Turning to Rindu, whom he had picked out as the obvious leader, he continued. “What have we here? A Zouyim mage, if I do not miss my guess.” He nodded to Rindu.
Looking toward Nalia, he said, “and a Sapsyr, with a mask. The Faceless Sapsyr, if rumors are now being made flesh.” He dipped his head in a slight bow toward her. “But what else, what else? An old man and a young one.” Catching the shift in Nalia’s stance, he raised his arms. “No, no, don’t be alarmed. I will not hurt the grandfather or your friend. Friend, or something more? Hmmmm.”
So, the man was as perceptive as Rindu had feared. This one would not be easily swayed by arguments. They were in a great deal of trouble. “I am Rindu Zose, of the Zouyim, as you surmised. What are your plans for us, Master Kemp?”
“Oh, please, don’t be so formal. You may call me Danaba, or simply Dan. As to our plans, well, that is to be seen. I would talk with you. You may have information that is valuable to us and I never waste an opportunity for learning something new.”
Rindu sighed. “Very well, Danaba, we are at your mercy. Ask what you will and we will cooperate with your inquiry. I have one question first, however. When we have given you information and you are satisfied, what will you do with us?”
“Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it? But let’s not discuss this here. We would be more comfortable back at camp. However,” he looked at the rakkeben, “we will have to do something about them.”
A low growl began in Shonyb’s throat, clawing its way toward the surface. Her lupine eyes shone with promised violence.
“Now, now,” Danaba said. “I didn’t mean it that way. Calm yourself. I would never harm such magnificent creatures if it could be helped. No, I have a much simpler and less violent solution in mind. If you are properly bonded, as I’m sure you must be, then I ask only that you send the rakkeben off to forage or hunt or do as they will, leaving you to our care.” He looked questioningly at Rindu. “And, of course, you four will need to be blindfolded. If we decide to let you live, we can’t have you telling others of our camp’s location.”
Rindu looked to the others, seeing the affirmation in their eyes. They knew as well as he that they had no choice in the matter. Better to send the rakkeben away in the chance they could help rescue them at an appropriate time. Better that than letting harm come to them now. “It is agreed.”
Soon after, the rakkeben departed, with Skitter still snug in his litter on Shonyb’s back. The litter looked much like the other panniers and saddle packs the other rakkeben wore, so the bandits didn’t notice the hapaki. The party was blind-folded and led through a series of twists, turns, and even a few tunnels. Rindu could “see” where he was going with his rohw, of course, but finding his way out again would have to be hit-and-miss, using his abilities like a compass to give a general direction. First, though, he had to determine how to escape.
In less than an hour, the party was marched into an area where the sound of people inundated them. When the blindfolds were removed, Rindu saw that they were in a large clearing with at least fifty people walking around, doing various types of work or sitting around fires eating. The clearing was almost completely obscured from above by a dense canopy of large trees surrounding it, shading it and hiding it from detection at the same time. Tents were scattered throughout in an apparently random configuration. If Danaba Kemp was half as clever as he seemed, Rindu knew that the placement of the tents was not random.
“Here we are, then,” Danaba Kemp stated, leading them to a nearby fire and sitting on a large fallen tree trunk. “Sit, and tell me what you are about. Be careful, though. If you lie to me, if you try to deceive me, it will mean your death. Though we have no set law about it, it is generally recognized that those we come across should be made incapable of ever spreading information about us. A good half the men wanted to just kill you in the box canyon and be done with it. So, what say you? Who are you and what is your purpose for trespassing in the Grinder?”
Rindu looked to each of the party members’ faces, checking to see if any of them wanted to speak. He saw written on each one that he should continue in dealing with this man. “I, as I have said, am Rindu Zose. I am perhaps the last of the Zouyim. Nalia, my daughter, is perhaps the last of the Sapsyra. Dr. Walt is a historian and scholar. Sam is merely our companion, one who had no others and so joined us. We are heading north.”
Danaba Kemp considered Rindu for a moment, locking eyes with the Zouy. “Now, why would you be heading north?” he asked. “And have a care, mage. If you mince words with me, there will be dire consequences.”
Without looking away, Rindu answered. “We are going to the Gray Fortress. We have business with the Gray Man.”
A flicker or anger passed over the bandit’s face and then disappeared quickly. “What business?”
Rindu looked again to the others, not so much looking for affirmation as stalling, putting off answering the question for just a little while longer. “He has something we need and we will attempt to take it from him.”
“Are you friends, then? Enemies? Common thieves? What is your purpose? Answer me plainly, Zouy. I’m growing tired of the games.”
Letting out a small sigh, Rindu said simply, “We will try to force him to give us information we need. If he does not do so, we will take his life. If we can.”
The bandit broke out in a hearty belly laugh. “Aha! My instincts were right about you and your friends. Any enemy of the Gray Man is a friend of mine.” He slapped Rindu on the back companionably. “If I could, I would kill the fiend myself, but I have grown much too attached to my head to let him take it off for me. Still, maybe I can help in some small way.”
Rindu stared, speechless. Of all the responses, he did not expect this one. Help them? “You have…issues with the Gray Man?”
“That I do, my Zouyim frie
nd, that I do. I will not bore you with the whole sad tale, but suffice it to say that I owe him as much pain as I can give him. I was an upstanding man from a good family. I had a fair amount of land and my life was good. My wife was expecting our first child and my only interests were bringing in profit and adding to my family’s wealth. The Gray Man’s minions swept through my ancestral home and the villages nearby. He didn’t make demands, didn’t offer to parlay, didn’t give us any choice.
“His chief soldier, Shordan Drees, broke in the door to my bedroom himself. While I watched, he raped and beat my wife, then slit her throat in front of me. I broke free from his men who were holding me, attacked him, but was no match for him. He didn’t even bother to draw a weapon. Instead, he beat me bloody with his bare hands. He beat me and left me for dead, but I survived. Over the next few years, I recovered, trained, became the magnificent specimen you see before you.”
He laughed, but then suddenly his face grew cold, his eyes hard chips of stone. “I have planned my vengeance on Drees all this time, but in the meantime, I had to make a living. Thus the Red Fangs. Many of my men are simply desperate souls such as I, though some are bandits at heart. We are ruthless and we are thieves, but we try only to dispense violence upon those who deserve it. In the meantime, we are building a reputation that the Gray Man, and his dog Drees will soon not be able to ignore. When they seek us out, then I will get my revenge.
“Or so I thought. It seems that the Gray Man has bigger plans, plans that include taking over the world. I am merely an insignificant insect that he will swat when he gets around to it.”
Sitting down and deflating, shoulders slumping, he continued, “But maybe by helping you, I can help put an end to that. The one thing I ask is that you promise you will kill Shordan Drees if you have the chance. Even if you don’t kill the Gray Man, I want Drees dead. The world will be better off without that monster.”
Rindu looked into the man’s eyes and saw the pain reflected there. “I agree. If it is at all in my power, I will put an end to Shordan Drees.”
Danaba Kemp clapped his hands. “Great! Then we have a deal. Come, eat and drink. You may call back your rakkeben whenever you like, but I suggest you not do so until you’re ready to leave. The big wolves make the men nervous. We wouldn’t want any accidents. When you are rested and fed, I will share information with you that may help in getting to the Gray Fortress. And, of course, we will guide you out of the Grinder. We know where the dangers are and how to avoid them. I must ask your word that you will not reveal our location, however.”
“You have it. No one will learn of this place from us.”
“Wonderful. You are now honorary Red Fangs. Congratulations!” he laughed his booming laugh, which seemed much too loud for a man of his size.
Chapter 46
While they rested, Sam listened to Danaba Kemp as the bandit explained to the party some of the things he had learned over the last few years. The Gray Man, he said, had taken over the old Arzbedim fortress, but he had made some improvements. Ever paranoid, the villain had created and installed many defenses in the area surrounding the Gray Fortress. Kemp described those he knew about and suggested ways to bypass or disassemble them. Some of his information was old, but should still be valuable.
“I’m sorry I can’t help more,” he explained as they were leaving camp, “but betting against the Gray Man is never a good bet. He has grown too powerful for me to want to risk a head-on assault like this. My soul burns for vengeance upon Shordan Drees, but there is a difference between rushing in to attack Drees and doing so with a magic user like the Gray Man. I hope you understand.”
“We do,” Rindu said. “We appreciate the help you are giving us. Thank you for your hospitality and your help.”
With that, the party left, meeting the rakkeben at the outskirts of camp, having called for them earlier. A nameless bandit brusquely motioned for them to follow him, not saying a word for the three hours it took them to reach the end of the area known as the Grinder. With nothing more than a perfunctory wave toward the exit, he disappeared back into the maze of canyons and the party was alone again.
Soon after leaving the twisting passages of the Grinder, Sam looked ahead to the horizon. Not sure if what he was seeing was true, he waited until the party crested a hill and stopped in his tracks. Looking out as far as he could see, he could make out clearly a roughly circular area that had to be more than fifty miles in diameter. Inside it, nothing seemed to grow. The distinction between forested land and the barren area was a sharp line describing a perfect circle.
“The Dead Zone,” Dr. Walt told him, coming up alongside him. “Apparently, sometime during the last days of the high science era of this world five hundred or so years ago, some type of weapon or energy source created widespread devastation. So devastating was it that things still don’t grow here. At least, no normal things grow here. Life adapts, and it did so here. A hardy type of scrub grows sparsely in the dead zone, but it’s good for nothing but for feeding fires.”
Sam’s incredulity was plain on his face, he knew. “What could do something like that? Nuclear weapons, maybe?”
“Perhaps. There is little known about what technology was like on this world during that time. It doesn’t necessarily need to be like our own world. Where we on Telani spent our time and resources harnessing the power of the atom for nuclear power, they may have gone another direction entirely. History, at times, pivots on the razor edge of a decision or on serendipity. I think personally that it was something unfamiliar to us. Regardless, here is evidence of man’s penchant for destroying himself.” Shaking his head, the grizzled scholar made his way down the other side of the hill, going into the Dead Zone.
As Sam caught up to the others, Rindu told him, “We are within a hundred miles or so of our goal. Ready or not, the most difficult and dangerous part of our journey is ahead. We will stop to get supplies in Patchel’s Folly and then head directly toward the Gray Fortress. Be on your guard, Sam. We are in the midst of our enemies, now as never before.”
Throughout the rest of the day, Sam’s vision scoured the landscape, searching for anything that appeared to be living besides the dull brown bushes that hunched low to the ground, appearing to be dead and dried already. They passed streams, rivers, and lakes, having to cross some of them. Twice, they had to strip down to their underclothes, bundling their clothes on top of the rakkeben in oiled cloaks while they swam the deep but slow moving rivers. Luckily, the weather had not turned too cold yet. It was not quite the fall of the year, so the temperature was mild and though it should have been raining, it seemed that they were in a dry spell.
As much as he looked, though, he could find no sign of life. Even with all the water, nothing but the stunted brown bushes were in evidence. He knew he should probably have been happy that no enemies could sneak up on them in terrain like this, but he felt uneasy, as if he, as a living creature, didn’t belong here. When he saw a dot on the horizon slowly resolve itself into a large block of differentness over the course of a few hours, he was happy for the change in scenery.
The party stopped their rakkeben and dismounted. Digging into their packs for dried meat to feed the wolves, they sat down and ate a light lunch of dried fruit and some of the few remaining loaves of bread.
Rindu turned to face the rest of the party. “We will need to get supplies in Patchel’s Folly. It is too close to the Gray Man’s stronghold for us to be seen together. We would certainly be captured or attacked if recognized. I will go alone in less recognizable clothes. Without some supplies, we will not have enough food to continue. The Dead Zone extends almost to the Gray Fortress so foraging and hunting will not be possible.”
The humans simply nodded, and Skitter’s assent drifted into Sam’s head. Looking at the others, Sam saw that they appeared to be drained of energy, depressed, and apathetic, just as he felt. Eating didn’t seem to help, and he just did it mechanically because he knew he had to. Even the rakkeben seemed affect
ed.
What about you? Sam sent to Skitter. Do you feel it?
The oppressive mood of the land and the sapping of energy? Yes, I feel it too. I don’t like this place.
I agree, Sam responded, but I think we’ll like the Gray Fortress even less.
After they set out again, they diverted their path to the east slightly, away from the town. “There is an area with some rock formations off that way,” Nalia pointed toward where they were headed. “We will stay there while waiting for my father to get supplies. We do not want to be too close to the town.”
Sam looked her over. The set in her shoulders, the slight change in her posture told him all he needed to know. Guiding Shonyb closer, he took her hand, lifted it up, and kissed it lightly. “He’ll be all right. I don’t think the Gray Man himself could harm Rindu.” He smiled at her, though she probably saw that it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She squeezed his hand. “I know, but I do not like staying behind. We must do what we must do, though.” They rode like that for several minutes, holding each other’s hands until the terrain became rougher and they had to allow their link to be broken.
Rindu had been gone for several hours. Sam was sitting with Nalia, chatting softly about her childhood, wondering anew at his good fortune in finding her, even if the circumstances were not ideal. She had her mask off and he was delighting in her facial expressions as she related a funny story about how she got in trouble for cutting her own hair as a child. They laughed together and Sam almost forgot about his concern for Rindu. Almost.
As their laughter ghosted away, replaced with concerned looks, Dr. Walt spoke up. “So, Patchel’s Folly. Do you know why it’s called that? Or even why it exists?”
Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set Page 31
