Hollow Road

by Dan Fitzgerald

  “Should be there before nightfall,” Carl said, pulling back even with Finn. “I figure we camp about an hour away, behind that foothill there.” He pointed toward a small hill just before Maer Mountain. “What Sinnie saw was probably scouts, and they’ll have alerted the Maer to our presence by now. There’s no sense hiding in the woods at any rate; better to find a spot on the hillside with a decent vantage point.”

  Finn nodded, not sure if any opinion he might have on this sort of thing would be valid. “Hopefully we can find someplace that’s not too rocky,” he said. “We will need a good night’s sleep for whatever comes next.”

  Carl gave him a steady, almost unnerving look. There was something of a gleam in his eye as he nodded and returned to his place near the front, and Finn had to work harder than before to submerge himself in the rhythm of the horse’s walk.

  THEY MADE CAMP NEAR a circle of rocks of such similar size and even spacing that they must have been placed there by some ancient civilization. They had considered camping in the middle of the circle, but it felt too creepy, so they camped about a hundred feet away. Finn did his evening rituals in the circle, hoping to draw some power from it, but either there was no power to be had or he lacked the skill to harness it. As he was concluding his practice, he noticed Dunil watching him, imitating some of his poses, with one eye on Finn at all times.

  “You are...sabra?” Dunil asked, spreading his fingers wide as if he were shooting something from them.

  “I am tired.” Finn gave an exaggerated yawn, which Dunil imitated, smiling. Finn didn’t want to give the boy any information he might share with the Maer, either accidentally or on purpose. As harmless as Dunil seemed, he could have been sent by Grisol to watch each of them and find out as much as possible. Though Finn didn’t share Carl’s paranoia, neither did he fully trust the Maer, and he worried about Sinnie’s comfort level with them. Even if the Maer traveling with them could be trusted, which was not at all certain, the Maer in the castle were another story entirely.

  The stars were bright, and a thin sliver of moon added its pale radiance to the night landscape. Carl reported nothing from his watch, and Finn basked in the utter silence of the mountain darkness. Perhaps down in the woods there would have been some bird or animal sounds, but in the hills, it was as if he were the only being alive, and he relished the feeling of freedom and solitude, knowing that tomorrow would be anything but peaceful. When he went to wake Sinnie, she was snoring softly, and he just couldn’t bring himself to wake her. The mountain air was keeping him fresh, and he did a kind of waking meditation during what would have been her watch, shaking her awake her just before dawn.

  “Let’s keep this our little secret,” he said. She smiled, her face streaked with marks from whatever she was using as a pillow, and blinked her thanks.

  THE MOOD IN THE CAMP was quiet, expectant, and not a little nervous. Carl was sharpening his sword to within an inch of its life, while Sinnie did sprints, much to the amusement of the Maer children, who fell over themselves trying to run along with her. Finn had completed his morning routine after waking Sinnie, so there was little to do but watch and wait, and try not to fixate on the perils awaiting them. He watched Grisol in particular, since she seemed to be the de facto leader of the remaining Maer. Her face was heavy with worry; though she tried to hide it from Dunil and the others, her eyes sank and her face fell when she wasn’t in direct contact with anyone else.

  Finn wondered what relationships she had with the Maer in the castle, and about the partner she had lost. One of the warriors they had killed was presumably her husband or mate, and since she had assumed the role of leader, it seemed logical to think that he was the lead Maer, perhaps the one with the Ka-lar sword, though he had barely drawn it when he was cut down by Sinnie’s arrows. What would be her lot, and that of her son Dunil, now that her mate was no more? The more he watched her, the more he saw her strength, not just in her muscles, which were more than solid, but in her outlook, her control, her determination. She was the one holding the group together. Things were about to change for all of them, and her actions would affect the outcome. Finn did not envy her position, though he wasn’t sure his own was any more desirable.

  The sun was just hitting its stride and bringing them some real warmth when they got on the road, riding as before with Grisol and Dunil beside Sinnie and Anbol, with Carl behind, then the other two Maer with their children, and Finn in the rear. He wouldn’t have minded holding one of the children, but he was glad not to have one, as it allowed him to focus on drawing what energy he could out of the horse’s slow trot. It was late morning when they saw the group approaching in the distance, moving down from the mountain and onto the road, heading in their direction. As they got closer, Finn was able to get a better look at them.

  The group was made up of a half-dozen Maer warriors armed with spears, led by a large, fierce-looking Maer whose spear bore a bladed tip that shone gold like the Ka-lar sword. At his side walked another Maer in a long, elaborate robe made of various skins and furs, sewn together in intricate and unusual patterns. Two large mastiff-type dogs followed the larger Maer’s every move, their black eyes focused intently on Finn’s group. The robed Maer, whose facial hair hung down around his chin and jaw in tiny braids, radiated calm, while the larger Maer looked ready to gut someone with his spear. The warriors walked in two neat rows, then spread out in a line as the two groups got close. Carl dismounted, and motioned for the others to do the same. The robed Maer motioned for the warriors to lower their weapons, then walked forward alone to meet Finn’s group, a faint smile on his friendly face.

  When he got about ten feet away he stopped, spread his arms wide, and said a few words. It took Finn a moment to realize that he was not speaking in the Maer tongue, but in Southish, which Finn knew somewhat from study, though he had never been particularly adept at it. Everyone in his group looked around, confused, and Finn stepped forward. “It’s Southish. I can speak it, a little anyway. He says welcome honored guests, at least I think that’s what he said. He might have said his name, but I didn’t quite catch it.”

  “He is Fabaris,” Dunil piped up. “He is...good Maer.” He tapped his head. “He knows...many things.” Sinnie patted Dunil on the shoulder, and Finn cleared his throat.

  “Hello, great friend,” Finn said, or thought he did. “Thank you for your kind hello. I am Finn, and this is Sinnie, and Carl,” he continued, pointing to his friends, who stepped forward and waved awkwardly. “We are friends. We are here to...take your...people and children home.” He turned and motioned to Grisol and the others, who moved forward cautiously.

  “We are most...” Finn couldn’t make out the rest of what Fabaris said. Fabaris made eye contact with Grisol, then turned his eyes back to Finn, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with his role as spokesman. “And where are the others?” He rattled off what seemed like a list of names. Finn looked at Sinnie and Carl, relaying the information to them. Before they could say anything, Grisol stepped forward, bowed to Fabaris, and began speaking. She started slowly, with what seemed like formulaic greetings, then picked up speed and urgency as she spoke, occasionally pointing to Finn, Sinnie, and Carl. Fabaris listened, nodding, maintaining his pleasant smile, and when she was done, he pressed his hands together toward her, and she repeated the gesture.

  “Grisol has said you are not enemies,” he said. “She asks that we let you in, to speak with Karul and...” Finn missed some of what he said next, but he got the gist. They were not to be killed right away, but their fate would likely lie with whoever or whatever Karul was. “Do you accept our invitation?”

  Finn looked at Grisol, who nodded, then Finn told Sinnie and Carl what he had heard. Sinnie looked at Carl, who paused for a moment before nodding, and Sinnie followed suit.

  “We accept, mister Fabaris,” Finn said. “Thank you for your kind welcome.”

  He must have said it right, for Fabaris smiled and said a few words to the other Maer, who turn
ed and began walking down the road toward the castle, but not before the larger Maer gave Finn, Sinnie, and Carl each a long, hard glare.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Carl studied the Maer named Melka, who seemed to be the lead warrior, as the group sat at the worn stone block they were using as a table, eating what Carl believed must be mountain goat. Melka was young and squat with thick muscles, and the hair on his face had a streak of light blond running along his left cheek. He never smiled and seldom spoke, and his watchful eyes moved from Carl to Sinnie to Finn and then back to Carl. Unlike Fabaris, the scholar, whose mouth seemed tattooed into a permanent half-smile, Melka’s expression was a mix of scorn, mistrust, and thinly disguised hatred. He looked to be stronger than Carl, and he did not lack for confidence, so Carl was sure when the time came, he would prove a worthy opponent. But for the moment, an odd peace reigned in the sunny open space of the bailey. The six warriors who had accompanied them back to the castle sat around another rock, and all weapons, including the Maer’s, had been hung on a makeshift rack just inside the rough wooden barricade that had been erected to fill the gaps where the gatehouse had crumbled with time.

  The castle must have been a wonder to behold in its prime, and Carl marveled at the feat of its construction atop the mountain. The winding road leading up to it would have taken ages for horse-drawn carts, and the sheer amount of labor and time required to build anything that high up was hard to wrap the mind around, especially considering that it had been built a thousand or more years ago. To enter the castle, they had passed through an arch carved out of the mountain itself, through a short tunnel to the remains of a gatehouse, of which only a few partial walls remained. Rows of heavy logs had been propped and reinforced around a movable gate made of the same materials, which had to be moved by four Maer to allow entry. From what he had seen, the Maer did not seem to have the means to forge steel or any other metal; everything was made of stone, wood and rough rope made up of some kind of plant fiber. Melka’s spear tip was the only metal item he had seen, and it had the same golden hue as Carl’s Ka-lar blade. Perhaps Melka too had defeated a Ka-lar, which made the prospect of trading blows with him all the more enticing.

  The keep was also in shambles, with huge gaps in the walls fortified by wood. Carl had to admire the industriousness and ingenuity of the Maer, who had managed to cut and haul scores of trees all the way up the mountain and fashion them into solid barricades without any evidence of horses or other beasts of burden. None of it would hold up long to a modern assault with siege machinery, but they could defend themselves against a small army for some time if they had sufficient warriors and weapons, though their supply of the latter looked paltry at best.

  The Maer and children traveling with them had been spirited away to the keep upon their arrival, with only Melka, Fabaris, and the six warriors staying with Carl and his group. Fabaris made lively conversation with Finn, who seemed to be getting his footing in Southish, though he only occasionally shared tidbits with the group. Carl knew only a few words of the language himself, so he followed the tone of the exchange and kept an eye on Melka, who was doing exactly the same thing. Apparently, Fabaris and Finn talked about the weather, about the animals that lived in the mountains and nearby forests, about the approach of fall, about anything and everything except for the important things that weighed on everyone’s minds. Would the Maer leader, whoever that was, be more like Fabaris or Melka? Carl and his companions had killed six Maer warriors, along with three caretakers and two children. In a human court of law, they could plead self-defense easily enough on the warriors. Nicolas had done most of the carnage among the innocents, and even his actions might be judged defensible in a human court. But would the Maer see it the same way? Carl decided he needed to put his mind onto something useful, so he told Finn to ask about the creatures that had hurled boulders at them on the road.

  Fabaris nodded and smiled broadly at Finn’s retelling of the adventure, which involved a lot of gestures and fumbling for vocabulary. Fabaris relayed the information to Melka, who perked up and seemed to flex his muscles a little bit as he barked a response, gesturing and pointing. Fabaris translated for Finn, who shared with Carl and Sinnie.

  “He says this castle was inhabited by creatures like this, which he called grosti. He says the Maer chased them away, killing two in the process. He seemed a bit proud of the whole thing, I have to say.”

  “It’s typical male puffery,” Sinnie muttered. “They’re just trying to show their strength, in case we might get ideas about trying to take them on.”

  “I don’t know, I’d be pretty proud if I took down a giant,” Carl admitted, unsure if it was the right word but he liked the heft of it.

  “Well you’ll fit right in here,” Sinnie replied.

  “I’m just going to tell them we are impressed,” Finn said. “Or try to, anyway.”

  AFTER THEY HAD EATEN, they were led across the bailey, half of which was filled with gardens growing an impressive variety of vegetables. An older Maer with gray hair on his head and face was busy weeding, and he looked up and smiled as they passed. There was also a beaten dirt area with benches and racks full of sticks, spears, and bows, which Carl took to be an arena or a practice ground. Next to that was a kind of wooden cage, but with holes too big to reasonably keep anything in; perhaps it was a training obstacle, or a play structure for children? The Maer’s castle was anything but what he had expected. They were clearly here for the long haul, though what exactly they hoped to achieve was far from clear.

  As the group approached the barricade leading to the keep, Fabaris waved, and part of the barricade swung slowly open, pushed by four strong Maer. Fabaris entered first, followed by Melka, then Carl, Sinnie, and Finn, and the six warriors followed behind them. Whatever chance they might have had to simply make a run for it disappeared as the barricade slammed shut behind them.

  Past the barricade, they entered the ruins of the keep, whose walls were still standing in places, but the sky peeked through between a patchwork of wood and thatched roofing. Based on the height of one of the standing walls, the keep would have been two or three stories high at one point. It was now more of an open courtyard, with rooms of various sizes separated by weathered stone walls, reinforced with wood in some places, separated by reed curtains in others. The place bustled with activity. In one room a mother nursed a newborn while a male slept, his hand over his eyes, and Carl noticed a bone knife and a spear lying next to him. In another room four Maer men played dice on a tree stump, knives at their belts, spears lined up against the wall. A third room had a Maer female holding up what might have been a cylinder scroll, speaking in slow, clear tones to a group of attentive children below the age of ten. As they passed further into the keep, they saw a kitchen, a pantry, an armory, another classroom, a nursery, and a number of sleeping quarters, some of them occupied. In total, Carl estimated he had seen at least fifty Maer, which meant there could be as many as a hundred or more in total.

  At last they were led into a large space, open to the sky, where a tall, wiry Maer sat poring over a map and consulting with two females. One was short and thin, with taut muscles and an intense gaze, and she wore a fitted vest of fine black leather overlaid with metal scales, quite unlike the rough fur and skins worn by the other Maer. A short sword hung from her belt in a woven leather scabbard decorated with threads of gold and silver. The other female was of more rounded shape, broad-faced, with big, expressive eyes. She wore a robe made of thick fur, with a variety of shells and scales sewn on in mesmerizing flowery patterns. When she glanced at Carl, her eyes lingered for a moment, and he felt seen, in a way he had not from any of the other Maer. Her mouth curved into a half-smile as she turned her gaze away, and Carl’s head felt fuzzy for a moment. The male in the chair stood up, half a head taller than Carl, with broad shoulders and a proud, confident expression on his face. The two females stepped to the side as he approached the group, spreading his arms wide and flashing a tense smile. He
uttered some words that sounded formal and not unfriendly. Fabaris nodded and turned to Finn, speaking in Southish.

  “He says welcome great warriors, I think,” Finn said. He listened as the tall Maer continued, followed by Fabaris translating. “He thanks us for bringing the parents and children back. His name is Karul, and the women are Ujenn and Luez, though I’m not sure which is which.” The Maer woman with the big eyes stepped forward, reaching a hand out slowly toward Finn’s cheek. Finn accepted the touch without moving a muscle. The woman spoke to Finn in Maer, and his eyes grew wide.

  “She says...she says she can see I am a mage, but...she was speaking in Maer, but somehow I could understand her perfectly. Her name is Ujenn. I don’t...”

  “I guess she knows her own kind,” Sinnie said.

  Ujenn then stepped toward Sinnie, who shrank back for a moment, then let Ujenn touch her face and speak to her. Sinnie’s face froze in something like wonder as she listened, and she took in a deep breath when Ujenn withdrew her hand. Ujenn then moved to Carl, her hairy hand reaching out ever so slowly. He had to work hard not to recoil, but when she touched his face, everything else fell away, becoming blurry and distant, and he sank into her gaze, a great calm settling over his body, nestling deep within his chest.