by Eric Ugland
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Me? My family?”
“Uh, yes to both.”
“My family is Imperial as far back as we can track. We were, well, I suppose you could call us horse traders. Originally at least. And we still are, to a large degree. My great grandfather was gifted a barony for providing the Empress, at the time, with her mount.”
“She must have loved that horse,” I said.
She blushed, and suppressed a giggle. “Oh, my lord, you are scandalous.”
I was confused, and I started to open my mouth to say something, but I think Eliza realized I knew nothing about the Empress or her, uh, mount.
“Oh, dear, you had no idea?”
“None. Is there—”
“It is only a rumor. Vile gossip really. But there were many things said about Empress Cordia and her affection for her stallions.”
“Ah,” I said, stopping myself before I blabbered on about Catherine the Great. “So I’m guessing you grew up near the capital?”
“Yes, our ancestral home is within a day’s ride of the capital. My uncles are still there, maintaining the family farm while my father takes a stab at being a count.”
“A gift from the emperor?”
“No. From, well, perhaps from the next emperor. His royal highness, Prince Valamir Glaton.”
“Have you met him?”
“Valamir? Gods, no. I have seen him from a distance. He and my father have been business associates in the past, and I believe this title is a gift for my father’s aid in some regard. In what capacity, exactly, I cannot say.”
“Northwoods. Any chance that’s because your lands are to the north of the capital?”
She laughed lightly. “They are. And they are quite wooded. Our horses are known for their ability to run through trees. Smaller stock, but incredible stamina and agility. A better hunting horse is not bred in the empire, I will bet any amount on it.”
I held up my hands. “No need, I believe you.”
“You do not seem much of a rider, my lord.”
“It has not been, uh, among my favorite activities in Vuldranni so far.”
“Perhaps you have not had the right teacher.”
“Sure. That’s probably it.”
“Perhaps we might go riding some time.”
“I’d love that. Some time when there aren’t goblins about?”
She thwocked me with her spoon. “How can you be so cavalier about goblins?”
“Because they’re small and easy to kill?”
“But they swarm. They breed like roaches, they infest any space they can crawl into, and they are able to survive off anything remotely identifiable as food. They are lecherous and cannibalistic, keeping their victims alive for amusement and to keep the meat fresh longer. They do unspeakable acts to anyone and everything.”
“You’re really afraid of them, aren’t you?”
“I would not say I am afraid of one goblin. I imagine one goblin would run away. But there is a saying: if you see one goblin, there are a hundred still hidden.”
“I think that saying needs a little work.”
“It means—”
“Oh I got what it means. Just, you know, a saying is supposed to be quick, pithy. That was a tad cumbersome.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. I was failing at being an idiot. Who would have thought that’d be a problem?
“Anyway, I haven’t much, uh, formal education, so I was wondering if you could tell me about the places outside the empire.”
“Oh? Where do you hail from?”
“It’s a place to the far north, uh, east of here, on the other side of Mahrduhm.”
“So you know of Mahrduhm?”
“Only the slightest bit. I was more, uh, in the mountains than amongst the peoples.”
“It certainly seems like Mahrduhm is one of the most interesting countries outside of Glaton these days. They have been making quite a few, shall we call them diplomatic moves?”
“Sure. Call them whatever, I don’t know what they’ve been up to, really.”
“They have been quite busy lately. Overtaking and exploiting some of the smaller nations in the area. Had you asked me two years ago who the Empire might fear, Mahrduhm would not have been on that list. But now—”
“Who would have?”
“Been on the list? Oh, there has been some discussion of the Centaur to the north. They lack easy entrance to the Empire, but they are exceedingly numerous, and have squelched any attempts for anyone else to take even the smallest foothold in their lands. My father suspected the Centaur nation might march through Mahrduhm all the way around the Wellsatch Mountains that mark our Eastern border. Then they could attack us through the Lannerhorn Plains.”
“That seems like quite the trek.”
“It is an immense distance. Some think that is the only thing which has kept our two nations from conflict.”
“But you?”
She gave me the slightest of smiles, as if she was unused to people asking her opinion on things.
“I think the Centaur are happy where they are. I doubt they are as expansionist as we are, and as long as we remain on this side of the mountains, they will leave us be.”
“You think our borders will remain here?”
“Not for a minute. The Empire lives to expand. But back to your last question, the Empire used to be most concerned with the Kingdom of Pheddaetis. A young king rose to power, and he was incredibly charismatic, strangely powerful, and his people rallied under him. He was so compelling, the neighboring kingdom joined his without blood being shed.”
“But?”
“The king died in a hunt. His queen has shut herself in the castle, and, by all reports, has died as well. The kingdom has fallen apart without the king, and is mostly just a collection of warlords bent on destroying the very country in their competition to take the crown.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Does it?”
“No, I just, I mean, it sounds pretty horrific really.”
“From the little news that has come out of Pheddaetis recently, it is, indeed, horrific there now. Then there are the Carchedons. They are across the sea, but possess an empire nearly equal in size to our own. Every few years, they invade us, and a year or so later we invade them. Occasionally a city is taken, then there’s a great siege, and the city is retaken. It’s a sad and bloody affair, but it appears to be the cycle we are forced to live within.”
“You just fight back and forth? Seems pointless.”
“I believe it is pointless. But we cannot abide them and they cannot abide us. So we are locked in conflict until something changes.”
“Saved by the sea?”
“I suppose.”
“Have you ever been there?”
“To Carchedon? No. My father has. During one of the peaceful spells, he traded some horses there. It is a minor secret,” she said with a sly smile, looking around to see if anyone was listening to us, “but my father brought back some Carchedonian mounts. My uncles have been evaluating them for a few years, breeding them and studying them, trying to decide if they are worth bringing into our breeding stock.”
“You’re really into horses.”
“It is the family business.”
“Are there horses out here?”
“Wild ones? Perhaps. I know if you head north, you will hit the Great Plains, and there you will find wild horses. As well as a host of other incredible creatures.”
“Do you ever think there are better animals than horses to ride?”
“If you ask my father, he will call you a fool, that there is no other creature meant to be ridden but the horse. He is utterly devoted to the horse. But my uncle, Willam, he believes different. He and I are looking at alternatives. Willam thinks we could tame and breed the pegasus, have flying mounts. But I have my doubts. I feel there is more to be gained looking at some of the more armored beasts. Hunting is where our fortune was made, but war wil
l be where our names are cemented into legend.”
“You have plans.”
“I do,” she said, taking her glass from me and draining her wine. “Plans which I would like—”
“Lady Eliza,” a voice called out.
I looked over and saw a heavily armored woman looking directly at my dinner companion.
Eliza stood to address the woman.
“I was just speaking to our host,” Eliza said.
“It is time for you to return to your tent, my lady,” the armored woman said.
“You will have to forgive me,” Eliza said.
I stood up. “Nothing to forgive,” I said.
She handed me her bowl, spoon, and glass. “I fear my chaperone can be overprotective at times.”
“Seems like that isn’t the worst thing to be around here.”
“I enjoyed speaking with you this evening.”
“Ditto.”
“Ditto?”
“It means, uh, the same. I enjoyed it as well.”
“Oh. Well, then, ditto.”
“Yeah. Good night.”
She gave me a smile, lingered for a moment, then walked off, her dress swishing and swaying behind her.
“Lovely girl.”
Startled, I had the spoon to Tarryn’s throat before I knew what I was doing.
“Easy now,” the warmancer said, pushing the spoon down until it was against my side. “I know you are probably able to skin me with that, but I would prefer to keep all my bits where they started.”
Tarryn sat down in the spot Eliza had been sitting in. “Have a seat, my lord,” he said. “I have something I would like to chat with you about.”
Chapter Five
Most everyone had drifted off to bed. Once the sun set, there was little activity around the holding. We didn’t have much in the way of candles or any other artificial illumination yet. Also, the shared quarters limited other entertainments after dark. If you know what I mean.
But a few of us were still awake. The two lutra were on guard, unwilling to let anyone else cover the ‘town’ after the kidnapping. A little work remained going on in the barn, and the Northwoods tent spilled light out of its flap. Perhaps a strategy session was going on inside. Then, there was me and Tarryn. We sat next the fire, in relative silence. I was waiting for him to tell me what he’d wanted to talk about. He was, I don’t know, waiting.
“This is a strange spot for one such as me to find myself,” he said, finally talking. Just too bad he wasn’t making much sense.
“Tell me about it.”
“I am.”
“I meant— please go on.”
“It is partly confusing for me to be this open with anyone else, but you are the leader of the hirð I joined, so I feel there should be no secrets between us.”
“Are you implying I have secrets?”
“I know you have secrets.”
“And you want me to tell them to you?”
“I want you to admit them to me.”
“So you already know my secrets.”
“I have theories.”
I took a deep breath and held it a moment while I thought about how to reply to the man. I knew, in a way, that this had to relate to me not being a natural born Vuldrannian.
“No one has told you?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
“The secret you’re thinking of, is it, I mean, does it have to do with me coming from somewhere else?”
“Aye, that is the one.”
He held his hand out for me to wait. Then he did a quick chant and a little flourish with his hands. I saw a dark series of runic letters rush out and fall into a rough dome shape around us.
“Just a little help to keep us quiet,” he said, with a wink.
“Hey, do you think you could teach me magic?”
“No. Now—”
“Why not? I can cast a spell.”
I reached inside, and pulled my mana together and cast humus. The cubic foot of dirt came together, holding its shape for a mere heartbeat before collapsing to the ground in front of us.
“I am suitably impressed,” Tarryn said. “But there are a number of reasons I am unable to assist you on this unwise course of actions—”
“Like?”
“Like you have no room left in your body for anything but muscle. Mana and muscle are not friends, my lord duke, not unless it is a partnership you have engaged since your very birth. And a discipline you have mastered in balance. You have not built any such pathways for mana to flow. So no matter how large your storehouse might be, you will never cast spells with any ease. Even that, which is a piddling thing, took you effort, did it not?”
It did seem to require more exertion for me to cast a spell as opposed to any of the other magic users I’d seen.
“Have you more advanced spells?”
“One, greater tame.”
“Oh? I am legitimately impressed you managed to learn that.”
“It, uh, maybe knocked me out.”
“And have you attempted a casting?”
“Yes.”
“How did it go?”
I thought about Barry the mimic, and felt a pang of sorrow. But I also thought about how I’d definitely passed the fuck out after casting it.
“Not that well.”
“So there you go. Perhaps, if you had been using magic this whole time, it would not be quite as big a deal as it is now. I can see the look in your eye — you want to know why. You want to say that it is not fair. But it is just the way the gods have chosen to make this world work. Perhaps it is to keep such monsters as yourself from also casting spells.”
“Monsters such as myself?”
“You are a bit monstrous of late. But, before you push us further down a path of tangents, you have asked your question, and were about to tell me a truth.”
“I’m from another world.”
“Ah, yes, there it is.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Once one knows to look for the tells, yes. It is.”
“Yeah, I’ve tried to tone it down.”
“What is your world like?”
“This is my world now.”
“But of course it is. Just—”
“You want to know what my old was world like?”
“I am a man of infinite curiosities. Perhaps you could tell me a few things about the place.”
“If you promise to help me figure out how to do all this, uh, leveling stuff better in this world, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about my old world.”
“We are tied together, big man,” Tarryn said. “If I can help you be better, I help myself.”
I sighed, looked at the fire, then up at the sky. The stars spread out across the darkness, both beautiful and terrifying. I still hadn’t gotten used to the breadth of them. Or how different they were. I still expected to look up and find the Big Dipper and follow its point to the North Star. I still searched for Orion’s belt, looking in vain for the Pleiades. But nothing like that was here.
“It’s a different place, very different,” I said. “There’s, uh, a lot more people there.”
“You have big cities there?” Tarryn asked.
“Oh yeah. Plenty. Everywhere. Many filled with millions of people. Some with ten million people. Hell, there are more than I can count with over twenty million.”
“Million—?”
“But, you know, there’s no magic there, so—”
“Wait. Stop talking. There’s no magic?”
“None.”
“Then how did you come here?”
“Magic, I guess.”
“But—“
“Dude, I don’t know.”
“No magic,” he said, staring into the fire. “That is most distressing. A world where I am completely and fundamentally useless.”
“Nah, we’d find a use for you.”
“I could not— cannot imagine it. It is so, I mean, how does it, I—” he stammered out some syllab
les, but he’d run out of words.
“We don’t need to talk about it, man,” I said. “It’s a very different place, with a whole different set of rules. And no, like, leveling stuff.”
“How do you know how much health you have?”
“You have to just, you know, guess.”
“But that is so barbaric.”
“It does add a certain measure of mystery to the place, I guess. But it’s just the way the world works there. You don’t have Choices or skills, no abilities or nothing like that. I have to say, I prefer a lot of what’s here.”
“Even though that is your home?”
“Even though. I tend to think the best home is the one you chose, not the one you’re born into.” I patted his knee. “Get some sleep.”
He was so flummoxed, he just stared into the fire and did nothing to stop my leaving.
Chapter Six
I walked into the longhouse, fully expecting to get a night’s sleep amongst my people, but a single step inside revealed two very important things. One, most of my people snored. Two, I was too big to squeeze into that place. Laying my giant butt down would force at least two others into a standing sleep, and that just wasn’t going to be okay.
Instead, I turned around and headed back out. The community fire still burned, and Tarryn still stared into the flames, still shocked learning about Earth and the lack of magic. I couldn’t see the lutra, but I assumed they were out and around somewhere. I skirted around the firelight, sticking to the edge of the darkness until I got to the mountain. I climbed up the cliff wall until I got to a small shelf. I plopped down and looked around at the world spread out before me. I was up higher than I’d anticipated, but it meant I could see a massive amount of the valley.
Straight down below, I could see the village. And by village of course, I mean our two buildings. I tried to visualize the town growing. Where things would need to be, efficiency wise. I thought about what Lee had said, and mostly ignored everything Essie mentioned. But, at the same time, I also found her refreshing in a way. She was just so different than most of the others I’d met in Vuldranni.
I knew I needed to make some decisions about the base and the building thereof. Up here, I figured I’d be safe from anything looking to eat me, and any of my underlings who were looking to throw things at me.
