Jaikus and Reneeke Join the Guild

by Brian S. Pratt

  The bow that saved his life hung near the desk along with a quiver of arrows. On the side of the bow opposite the quiver was a sword and shield, both of which had the look of having been well used.

  Attention drawn to the opening of the door, Ceryn spied him and gave a nod as the Warden continued slicing vegetables. He indicated the table with a jerk of his head. “Have a seat. This will need to cook a little longer.”

  Hobbling to the table, James looked longingly toward the stewpot simmering upon a hook over a gently burning fire in the fireplace. The mouthwatering aroma caused his stomach to growl. Taking a seat facing Ceryn he said, “I haven’t had a good meal for a while.”

  Ceryn grinned and chuckled. “Whether this will be good or not, you’ll have to decide.” Finishing with the preparations, he dropped the sliced vegetables into the stew pot. Then moving to the counter, he filled two mugs from a pitcher and brought them to the table.

  James took one, looked within and sniffed uncertainly.

  “It’s just ale, lad. You look like you could use some.” Giving him a wink, Ceryn tossed back his mug and took a deep draught.

  Bringing the mug to his mouth, James hesitantly took a sip. When the liquid hit his tongue, he had to admit it wasn’t bad. A little strong for his taste, but not worse than some of the stuff he had tried at Dave’s. Glancing to Ceryn, James noticed that he was being scrutinized.

  “I suppose you have a lot of questions?”

  “Yes, a couple. But your business is just that, your business. You seem a nice enough lad. You needn’t feel obligated to tell me anything more than what you want.” Ceryn set his mug on the table and then returned to the stew pot where he stirred it with a large wooden spoon. “Can’t let it burn.”

  “That’s what my grandmother always said, too.” Remembered times sitting in his grandmother’s kitchen while she cooked made him a little homesick.

  “She must have been a nice woman, a good cook maybe?” He cast a look to James and received a nod in reply. Returning his attention to the pot, he stirred the stew a few more times. Once satisfied that it wasn’t in any immediate danger of burning, he set the spoon on the counter and returned to the table. Grabbing his mug, he downed the rest of it.

  “She was the best. Sometimes there would be little in the house, yet she could whip up the most wonderful dinners.” Memories of fine meals made his stomach growl loudly.

  “It’ll be just a few minutes longer.”

  “Where am I exactly?”

  A surprised look came over Ceryn. “You mean you don’t know where you are?”

  “Not really.” After taking another sip of the not-entirely-unpleasant ale, he added, “I’ve been lost.”

  The Forest Warden studied his face a moment before answering. “You are near the Kelewan River, not far from the township of Trendle. The forest I found you in is called The Dark Forest of Kelewan. Nothing really dark about it unless you come here ill prepared. It’s my job to help people in trouble, like yourself, and if need be get a crew to clear the roads when a tree falls and blocks the trails.”

  “I am very glad you were there for me. Those wolves were after me ever since the night before. I took out one that had wandered into my camp and the others seemed to have it in for me ever since.” Pausing for another sip of ale, he then asked. “How far is it to Trendle?”

  “About a day and a half’s walk. In your condition you’ll never make it. You will need to rest at least until tomorrow. I’m heading there in the morning and could take you if you like.”

  “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

  James was warming to this Ceryn. A rather genial chap, his easy speech and relaxed demeanor put James at ease.

  Ceryn went to inspect the stew once again. Using the spoon to take a taste, he nodded approvingly and removed the pot from the fire. After setting it on the table, he crossed to the shelves and selected two bowls and a pair of smaller, wooden spoons. Returning to the table, he handed one of each to James.

  Following Ceryn’s lead, James dipped his spoon into the stewpot and proceeded to fill his bowl. The stew had a thick gravy and contained many different vegetables, some unfamiliar, with a little bit of meat. While he filled his bowl, Ceryn fetched a loaf of bread. Using his belt knife, the Warden removed off two thick slices and handed one to James.

  Breaking off a corner, James dipped the bread into the stew’s gravy. When the gravy- covered bread hit his taste buds, his salivary glands went into overdrive. This tasted great! He took up his spoon and eagerly scooped as much meat and veggies as the utensil could hold. “Oh, man,” he mumbled appreciatively as he chewed. The meat was flavorful without being tough and the veggies were soft yet still firm. Eating with gusto, James soon emptied his bowl and was scooping a second helping out of the pot.

  “Hungry?”

  James realized that he was starting his second bowl while Ceryn still had yet to finish his first. Slightly embarrassed at being a glutton, he replied, “Either I am totally starving or this is the best stew I have ever had!”

  Ceryn chuckled. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both. Eat as much as you can hold, you look like you could use it.” Scooping out another helping, the Forest Warden re-filled his bowl and then cut another section of bread for himself and James.

  Once the meal was over and hunger had been satisfied, Ceryn took the bowls and spoons outside to the river and washed them. Once finished, he set them on the shelf. He then placed a lid on the stew pot before moving it onto a side table.

  Night had fallen by this time; the only light was that from the fire. Ceryn settled into a chair and pulled out his pipe and filled it from a pouch. He set a smoldering stick from the fire to it and puffed several times. He leaned back in his chair as pipe smoke began to encircle his head.

  James brought a chair and sat next to the Warden. The warmth coming from the flames felt good and quickly relaxed him. He watched the flames dance as they consumed the wood, and thought how his life had changed over the past few days. From home, to the woods, and now a friendly Warden’s home, he couldn’t help but wonder what the next day would hold. Though thoughts of the past two days and what may lie ahead occupied his mind, he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. Repeatedly, his head drooped to his chest only to suddenly jerk back up.

  Noticing his problem, Ceryn offered him the bed he awoke in earlier, an offer James was not able to refuse. After thanking his host, he used his spear again as a crutch and made his way to the back room. Climbing into bed, he thought to himself, Lucky to have found Ceryn. Not many would have taken a stranger into their home and fed them. I owe him a lot. A few lingering thoughts about what the next day might hold were all that he managed before sleep took him.

  Thud!!!

  The bedroom door crashing open startled James out of a deep sleep. Sitting bolt upright, he turned bleary eyes toward the doorway. Three sword-wielding men wearing worn, mismatched pieces of armor entered and did a quick look around. Upon seeing him, one of them hollered out the door, “There’s another one in here, a lad hiding in the bed. Ceryn lied!”

  From outside came the reply. “Bring him out. We’ll take care of both of ‘em.”

  One of the men headed toward the bed.

  The man took him roughly by the arm and hauled him to his feet. Pain from his wound shot up his leg as his foot hit the floor. Crying out, he was given little sympathy as he was propelled through the door with a shove. James stumbled into the front room, his injured leg protesting with every pain-filled step. Another rough shove from behind pushed him toward the door leading outside. Despite the throbbing in his leg, he somehow made it through without falling.

  Not far from the front of the cabin were two more men with drawn swords standing next to a bound body on the ground. As James was pushed forward, he discovered the captive to be Ceryn. He was relieved to see the Forest Warden turn his head and glance silently at him. At least Ceryn was still conscious and alert. One of the men who had taken him from the cabin pul
led his arms behind his back and bound them together painfully tight. Once his hands were secured, he was shoved to the ground next to Ceryn.

  “Don’t move and keep your mouth shut!” one of the four sword-wielding men commanded.

  James glanced at the man and nodded.

  Seeing that James planned to cooperate, the guard grunted and then turned to his partner.

  With their captor’s attention, for the moment, focused elsewhere, he scooted closer to Ceryn until they were less than a foot apart. “Who are they?”

  “Outlaws. They’re mad because I brought one of them in and was executed. He killed two women who were traveling through here a while back.”

  “What are they going to do with us?”

  “They’ll probably torture and kill me. You…” Ceryn paused as one of the guards glanced in their direction. When the guard again focused his attention elsewhere, he continued. “You they may kill or they may take you south and sell you to the slavers. Sorry, lad.”

  An outlaw a little larger than the rest and bearing a tattoo of a snake on his left forearm stormed over to Ceryn and kicked him in the side. “I told you to be quiet! Another word and I’ll cut out your tongue.” To emphasize his point he kicked Ceryn hard in the side twice more before walking off.

  Two outlaws continued to stand guard over them with their swords drawn and ready. James leaned closer to Ceryn and in a barely audible whisper asked, “Are you ok?”

  A sleight nod of Ceryn’s head was his only answer.

  “I’m going to try and loosen your bonds.”

  Ceryn met his gaze and shook his head. “Too risky.”

  “Just be ready.”

  Their gazes met and there must have been something in James’ eyes for Ceryn nodded.

  Concentrating on envisioning their bonds coming apart, James whispered:

  Ropes that bind me and you

  Come apart in pieces two.

  James felt a slackening in the rope binding his arms together as the fibers parted. Ceryn gave him a look full of surprise as his wrists were once again free.

  Whispering so only Ceryn could hear, he said, “Now for the outlaws, be ready.”

  The Warden paused only a moment before nodding. He understood.

  Looking around he searched for something that could be used to hurt, maybe even kill the outlaws. His gaze came to rest on the fire and an idea took shape. Speaking softly, he cast his spell.

  Fire that’s hot

  “Hey, the boss said no talking.”

  Ignoring him, James continued,

  Fire that’s bright,

  The guard took a step toward him. “I said to shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

  Send balls of flame

  “Ok, you asked for it” Taking two more steps, the guard reached his side, and prepared to kick him in the head.

  Before the guard could complete the maneuver, James looked him in the eye and shouted:

  To burn outlaws this night!

  At the final utterance of the spell, magic streamed from him as the fire erupted in an explosion of shooting fireballs. The outlaws had only a moment to realize their danger. One such fiery projectile nearly singed James’ hair as it slammed into the man standing before him. The resultant explosion knocked the outlaw back and showered James and Ceryn with sparks. Similar bursts flared throughout the area.

  The spell used far too much of his unreplenished reserves, draining what strength he had, caused him to lose consciousness. Ceryn saw James pass out but couldn’t take the time to determine if he was okay.

  Screams of pain and confusion filled the night. Rolling to the side, Ceryn kicked out with his foot and brought a guard whose clothes were afire to the ground. He deftly avoided the flames as he took possession of the guard’s sword. Upending it, he plunged it through the man’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

  Quickly getting to his feet, he placed a foot upon the dead outlaw’s chest and pulled the sword free. A nearby guard cried out as his hair ignited and went up in flames. Moving toward him, Ceryn struck out with his sword and an outlaw’s head went flying. The head hit the ground and rolled like a flaming ball until it came to a sizzling stop.

  Another outlaw lay smoldering on the ground. Still another raced through the forest, a pillar of flame in the darkness. The man’s screams echoed through the night. Scanning the area for any others who may have escaped James’ flaming attack, Ceryn found no sign of the leader. Counting those taken out by the fireballs, he realized two of the leader’s henchmen also remained unaccounted.

  Returning to James, he found him still breathing but was unable to rouse him. Using one hand, he grabbed his shirt and dragged him toward the cabin. With his other, he retained the bloody sword which had taken out two of the outlaws. He didn’t get far before the man with the tattoo appeared from the direction of the river. Behind him walked the remaining two outlaws, only one seeming to have emerged from the attack unscathed.

  “Ceryn,” the tattooed man shouted, “I’m going to gut you and let the animals eat your entrails while you’re still alive to enjoy it. And then I’ll cut the heart out of that demon damned mage.” Covered in burns, clothing charred nearly beyond recognition, he made a frightening sight. The tattooed man came for Ceryn while the other two moved to flank him.

  Knowing they would follow him and ignore James as long as he was unconscious, Ceryn left him on the ground and approached the outlaws with sword at the ready. Three to one would be bad odds in a normal situation but after what James had done to them, the outlaws would be slowed by the pain.

  Ceryn feinted at the one on the right; out of the corner of his eye he saw the one on his left coming in to his exposed flank. When the one on the left sliced toward Ceryn’s head, Ceryn dropped to the ground and rolled toward him, striking a serious blow to the outlaw’s thigh, opening an artery. The Warden leaped back to his feet as the outlaw gave out with a cry and dropped to the ground.

  The leader came in with a swift thrust aimed at Ceryn’s chest which he deftly blocked. He was forced to jump back when Ceryn counter attacked with a slice to the leader’s leg. Unable to avoid his attacker, Ceryn’s sword opened up a shallow cut on the tattooed leader’s upper thigh.

  Seeing an opening created by Ceryn’s attack, the remaining henchman leaped in and thrust. Ceryn twisted just in time and managed to receive only a small cut along his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he feinted at the leader and then came back with a backhanded slice which caused the henchman to stumble backward and trip over the outlaw writhing on the ground, doing his best to keep his life’s blood from leaving his body.

  Seeing his chance, Ceryn pressed the leader who was becoming weakened from the loss of blood and the trauma of having been burned. Slash, block. Block, slash. He needed to finish the leader before the remaining henchman regained his feet and rejoined the battle.

  Ceryn sliced at the leader’s head, at the arm, the head, back and forth. The leader successfully blocked each of Ceryn’s maneuvers.

  “Ceryn, you cannot win. I am the better swordsman!”

  Undaunted by the taunts, Ceryn doubled his efforts.

  Having regained his feet, the henchman moved to rejoin the battle. Ceryn saw him approaching and with a burst of speed and skill, continued his attacks upon the leader.

  The henchman pressed Ceryn hard, which gave the leader time to drop out of the battle to catch his breath. The henchman hammered away. Hack, hack, slash; his attacks had very little skill, trying to bull his way through Ceryn’s defense with naught but brute strength.

  Using skill acquired through dozens of conflicts, Ceryn successfully blocked each of the attacks and began to understand the rhythm of the henchman’s attacks. Hack, hack, slash. Hack, hack, slash. Timing it just right, he blocked the next two hacks and when the henchman came in with the slash, Ceryn dropped under the incoming blade and thrust with his own sword, taking the outlaw upward through the chest. Ceryn kicked out with his foot to dislodge the outlaw from his blade and tu
rned to find the leader coming straight for him, a wild look in his eyes.

  With a primal scream, the leader charged. Wielding his sword in both hands, he brought it down with all his strength, attempting to hew Ceryn in half. Striking the leader’s sword, Ceryn succeeded in deflecting it away, throwing the leader off balance. Ceryn kicked out with his foot and connected with the leader’s knee. With satisfaction, he heard the bone snap. Off balance and with his knee broken, the leader cried out in pain. He twisted and dropped face first to the ground. Moving to finish it, Ceryn sliced through the leader’s back and severed the spine.

  Paralyzed, the leader stared with hate filled eyes at Ceryn as the blood flowed out of him first bringing unconsciousness, then death.

  Panting, Ceryn wiped the sweat from his brow as he surveyed the battlefield and found only smoldering, dead outlaws. He tossed the sword down and returned to James. He lifted him off the ground and carried him into the cabin where he laid him upon the bed.

  Waking the next morning, James found a blood-soaked Ceryn next to him. Checking to make sure the Forest Warden was still alive, he discovered that most of the blood staining Ceryn’s clothes was not the Warden’s. Even though he had a head that felt like it was being used as an anvil, James managed to rise and investigate the situation outside.

  The area in front of the cabin was a scene of carnage. Bodies littered the ground and blood was everywhere. His respect for the swordsmanship of Ceryn was high. He moved from one outlaw to the next. Not finding any that still lived, he returned to the cabin and built a fire to ward off the morning chill. Not with magic for after last night he could not even think of magic without his head hurting. The spell with the fire had been far too draining. In fact, it had almost killed him. He was determined to refrain from using magic for the time being, at least until he regained some of his strength.