“Is that what this place is called?”
“Yes,” Vincenzo replied as he threw the heavy bag over his shoulder as if it was filled with feathers. He moved out, surprisingly light on his feet.
After nearly three years with only animals and trees to talk to, leaving with such a strange person sounded pretty good. He certainly wasn’t boring.
They climbed back up the bank from the narrow trail. Standing on the wide road again made Astrid feel uneasy.
“How long have you spent in this Protectorate?” Astrid inquired.
“I’ve been in Lungu for about a month. I spent several weeks each in the Protectorates of Vasile, Petran, and Ungur.”
“Those sound like family names,” Astrid observed. “So, the Protectorates are all run by powerful families?”
“Very good guess,” Vincenzo said as if his student answered a question correctly. “This region was chaotic after it emerged from the Madness. Warrior families protected various regions. The leaders of different areas turned on each other as the remnant became less of a threat.”
“The Warrior Houses were formed in my land during the madness,” Astrid remarked, recalling her history lessons. “That’s how my people survived the dark time. Magic also came to our lands soon after it ended. But our houses worked together more often than not.”
“Interesting,” Vinnie remarked. “I’ve traveled far and wide. Everywhere, it’s the same story. Soon after the madness, people start to use magic. In this land, the leaders all practice different forms. They keep their teaching secret and only discuss magical origins among themselves.”
“They select certain people, usually children, from villages to train in these arts. It’s a bit different in each protectorate, but once trained, these mages are given authority and instructed to use it in order to ‘secure’ the lands and keep them ‘safe.’”
Astrid cocked her head. “In my former home, magic brought peace. We didn’t use it to rule over people,” she explained. “But we were at peace so long, we didn’t recognize the threat within until it was too late.”
Vinnie studied Astrid carefully. The pained look on her face told him not to ask any more questions. Astrid would tell him the rest when she was ready. Instead, he continued to explain what he had learned about the Protectorates.
“Once they started using magic, all the fighting between Protectorates ended in stalemates. So, they developed a formal system of trade and diplomacy. Now the Protectors are comfortably in charge of well-organized, little collection businesses.”
“Based on a contribution system, it looks like,” Astrid said. “It was much like this back home… ” she trailed off, looking at her feet before continuing. “The Four Houses were supported by the farms that surrounded them. The Knights and those who fed them were like a huge extended family. The work of either supported both. That’s how we carved out a safe place for people to live after the madness. My grandparents discovered how to draw from the Well and founded the first Warrior House in the region.”
Vincenzo pretended not to notice her sadness when mentioning her home. That was the best way to get her to keep telling her story.
Instead, he said, “The Protectorates are very much like you describe. This type of economic system is very common in this region, all the way down to the Great Salt Sea Between.
“They call it ‘tribute’ here. It’s a form of taxation that appears to pay for the whims of the Protectors more than the common good. I understand from some that it wasn’t always that way. The current protectors seem to squander their wealth. They don’t seem to be building up the region anymore, only their own power.”
“What about this road?” Astrid countered. “There are no roads this well-kept where I come from.”
“It’s for moving goods, mostly—trade between the Protectorates and all the tax from the villages. The villages themselves use the road quite a bit to trade among themselves. The various Protectorates pay for the upkeep, hence the tolls.”
“But they have to pay to use the road,” Astrid added.
“They pay to use the land, they pay to sell their goods, they pay to trade amongst themselves,” Vincenzo said. “The protectors effectively own everything and charge the people for the privilege of using it. I don’t see how this is sustainable.”
“Well,” Astrid declared. “I’m glad we’re leaving. The place seems run by short-sighted fools.”
“I don’t know,” the big guy replied. “These fools kept things going for a long time. The system just might need some adjustment.”
“Maybe we should turn back,” Astrid replied.”Now I feel like I’m heading in the wrong direction.”
Vincenzo stopped short. He looked around with wide eyes.
“What?” Astrid said, alarmed. She followed his darting looks all around.
Vincenzo squatted down and placed his hand on the road. “Something big is coming,” he said. “I can feel it through the earth.”
A few seconds later, Astrid felt it also. They saw a skinny boy first. He tore down the toll road around the bend, loose-fitting tunic whipping like a flag.
“Wow,” Astrid said. “Some runner. Must be a messenger.”
As those words left her mouth, they instantly made her feel foolish. Not far behind the boy, she could now see the largest brown bear she had ever seen charging after him, drool streaming from its jaws.
“Don’t run!” Vincenzo bellowed. “You will only excite him!” He sighed, taking a step forward, “This big male only wants to protect his territory. I’ll handle this.”
The boy had already blown past them, giving Astrid the distinct impression that he hadn’t noticed them at all.
“Ah,” Astrid said nervously. “Unless you can talk to animals and can tell this thing we’re not tasty, I’m considering a strategic retreat. The last time I fought a bear, it ended in a stalemate… ”
“You’re in luck!” Vincenzo boomed. “For I can communicate with animals—somewhat.”
“Uh, we’re going to need more than somewhat,” Astrid shot back. The bear was getting bigger by the second.
Vincenzo held out both his arms, palms toward the giant beast. “We mean you no harm!” he shouted.
The bear reared up on its hind legs and spread its arms wide as if mimicking Vincenzo. That’s when Astrid noticed it was female. Three small cubs appeared farther down the road, tripping over themselves to catch up with momma.
“Ah, Vinnie… ” Astrid said.
“It’s ok! He understa—”
The roar drowned everything else out and seemed to shake the very ground beneath them.
“Yarp!” Vinnie screeched as a massive claw nearly removed his face. “I was wrong!” he shouted. “I can’t speak with animals! Run like hell!”
Astrid turned and bolted while trying to control the laughter at his expense from bubbling up and stealing the very oxygen she needed for a solid run. And even with as fast as she was—and portly as he was—Vincenzo still somehow outpaced her. How a man that big could run that fast amazed her.
Or maybe it was the fact that she was still fighting the laughter that kept slowing her down.
“You’re a damn fool!” she shouted in spite of needing her breath to flee. Sometimes mortal peril cracked her up, but this was extra special given his absolute confidence and her knowing better. It came in so many forms, and this one was straight-up ridiculous.
“Being wrong doesn’t make one a fool. I was testing a theory—oh no!” Vincenzo said. They came across the collapsed boy in the road.
“I… can’t… run… anymore… ” he said between gasps for breath.
Vincenzo scooped him up like a sack of potatoes and threw him over his shoulder. Astrid shrugged, staring into the boy’s shocked eyes as she ran along close behind them. She flashed the kid a smile, but he was too shocked and scared to smile back.
The ground before the big man rumbled, bringing Astrid back to full attention as the path before him exploded. Chunks of di
rt shot up in a circle, and Vinnie disappeared into a tunnel that appeared from nowhere.
Vinnie’s head popped back up from the hole. His eyes! They looked like glass globes with flowing lava behind them as they glowed bright orange. She’d never seen magic like this before. But the charging bear behind them didn’t give her much time to wonder. “Come on!” he shouted “I can’t displace the ground forever!”
Astrid jumped over a rim of turned soil and barreled down the tunnel. She almost tripped at the crumbling noise behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the tunnel was collapsing. She stayed as close behind Vincenzo as she could. She didn’t want to get buried, and Vinnie’s free hand was the only source of light.
Vinnie made a sharp turn to the left, then suddenly, Astrid saw the forest again. The tunnel took them back down the bank and onto the same trail Astrid had followed the night before. The earth at the side of the hill closed in on itself.
Vinnie carefully set the boy down at the trunk of a tree. He dropped to one knee and fought for breath as sweat streamed down his red face.
“You OK, there big guy?” Astrid asked.
“Uh-huh,” Vinnie grunted, shucking off his bag again. He drank the rest of his wine skin and drained half of another full skin while Astrid watched.
The boy recovered enough to push himself upright with his back against the tree.
“You’re… magic users,” he said, breathless now from amazement.
“What gave us away?” Astrid asked with another crooked grin. “Was it the human mole thing?”
The boy snorted. “I’m just a really good guesser… ”
Astrid was glad to see the boy had a sense of humor.
Vincenzo lifted his chin and sniffed the air. “Is that fruit in your bag?”
“Yes,” the boy said. “And some cheese.”
“So, not only did you step between a mother bear and her cubs, you did so with a bag full of aromatic food,” Vinnie boomed.
“Well, I… ” the boy stammered.
“Ease up there, Mr. ‘I can talk to animals,’” Astrid quipped.
It was Vinnie’s turn to be embarrassed, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.
“So, what’s your story, kid?” Astrid asked, squatting down beside him. She offered her water skin with the last of her tea.
The boy gulped it all down, then wiped his chin. “Then it’s true. There are no coincidences.”
“Just as I suspected,” Astrid said, standing up. “I came here for a reason. We draw from the Well, but sometimes, the Well draws from us. Do you need something?”
“Yes,” the boy said. “Our village is being taxed literally to death. Assessor Pleth came and took his quota, even though it meant we could not put enough away for the winter.”
“Pleth… ” Astrid trailed off. That’s what the guard called the man with the watermelon-gut giving commands. “I saw him on the Toll Road yesterday afternoon.”
“That must have been just after he left our Argan,” the boy said. “There are no coincidences. This more than proves it.”
Vincenzo sighed. “Firstly, what is your name?”
“Tomescu,” the boy said.
“Well, secondly, Tomescu,” Vinnie said, “coincidence exists. Not everything happens for some divine reason. It may be just our subconscious mind that guides us toward things. It may be some form of intuition.”
“What the hell is a subconscious mind?” Astrid inquired, shaking her head.
Vinnie opened his mouth to reply, but Tomescu rushed in with his request.
“We need you to protect our village from greed. We need to stand up to them and tell them they can’t keep taking from us and keeping us in poverty. The Protector doesn’t care about us anymore!” the boy blurted all this out as he stood up on shaky feet. His face was splotchy with redness as he stood there with clenched fists.
Astrid stood there, staring at the teenager for a long while. Finally, she looked up at the sky and said, “Respect all weakness and always defend the weak.”
“What?” Tomescu asked, shaking his head.
“It’s the Knight’s code,” Astrid replied. “My code. And you’re right. Everything happens for a reason. I should have seen it when Pleth and his merry band of dipshits tried to arrest me.”
“Pleth tried to arrest you?” the boy stammered.
Astrid just smiled and cracked her knuckles. “Obviously, it didn't go well for them.”
“So, you’ll help us?” the boy asked.
“I will,” Astrid replied. “Vincenzo,” she turned to the fat man. “Are you in?”
“Certainly,” he replied. “Why not?”
“Can’t argue with that line of reason,” Astrid said. She turned to the boy and stuck out her hand.
As they shook hands, Astrid discovered the boy gave her a firm grip with calloused fingers. “I’ll take you to my village,” Tomescu said.
4
The Village of Argan, Lungu Protectorate
The three decided to stick to the winding, narrow path that lead along the creek. Every now and again, the path crossed the clear, running water by way of a fallen log or some shaky planks thrown across it. While it took longer than the Toll Road, Astrid enjoyed the view.
“The forest is healthy,” Astrid observed.
“Even before the world fell,” Tomescu said, “these mountains were wild.”
“This path looks well-traveled,” Vinnie observed.
“Yes,” Tomescu said, jumping over a thick snaggle of tree roots in the path. “It’s mostly used by bandits and people who want to avoid the Toll Road.”
“Bandits?” Vinnie asked, suddenly on alert. He looked around.
“They don’t grow on trees,” Astrid said with a snort.
“No,” Tomescu replied, “but they do hide in them to make ambush.”
“Seriously?” Astrid said, suddenly concerned herself.
“No joke,” Tomescu said. “They mostly rob the wagon trains and only sometimes hit us villagers. It depends on the harvest, usually. Living in the forest isn’t easy. They take far less than the Assessors.”
“It sounds like they rob to feed themselves,” Vinnie observed.
“Stealing is stealing,” Astrid growled. “Being hungry doesn’t make it right.”
Vinnie sighed and marched along. It took more than an hour to get to the village. They emerged from the forest by pushing aside some brush. They stepped out into a freshly harvested and half-turned field.
Astrid stopped at the edge of the field and breathed in deeply through her nose. “I love harvest season,” she exclaimed.
Vinnie eagerly stepped out a few paces into the field and planted his feet wide. His eyes turned black, then clear. This time, the lava behind them glowed a mild shade of red. Both Astrid and Tomescu gave a start when the earth trembled.
His eyes widened and turned green this time. Vinnie’s feet sank half-way into the soil. He crouched down and picked up two hands full of soil and squeezed. He opened his palms, then brought them together. He crumbled the soil by rubbing his hands back and forth.
“This is excellent soil,” Vinnie said. Then, to Astrid’s shock, he licked his right palm. “It is a bit stressed, though.” Vinnie stood to two sets of wide, blinking eyes staring at him. “What?” he said, brushing his hands on his baggy green pants.
“You can tell the condition of soil by taste?” Astrid asked in disbelief.
“My people practice an art called ‘Irth Magic,’” Vinnie explained.
“Is that why the earth shook when you put your feet on the soil?” Tomescu asked in wonder.
“Yes,” Vinnie said as the three began to cross the field. “I was tuning myself to the place.”
The village had already noticed them, or at least a scruffy farm dog had. It was the dog that called the rest of the village to attention.
“I thought you didn’t believe in magic,” Astrid huffed.
“I didn’t say that,” Vinnie replied. “I
only said that what we call it does not describe what it truly is. It’s just a word.”
Astrid walked in silence with that statement as they left the field. Tomescu led them to the center of a circle defined by low mud-brick huts with straw roofs.
An old woman with a bloody bandage wrapped around her forehead stepped forward. She was short and slight, but she had a presence far larger than her appearance. Everyone seemed to angle toward her. What felt like the whole village had stopped working to approach the strangers.
Vinnie gasped and cursed mightily in his native tongue. “Did they strike the Elder of this village?” Vinnie stared at the woman’s bloody bandage, made a fist, and bit his knuckles hard.
Vinnie lurched forward and Astrid stepped toward him subtly. “I admire your concern friend,” Astrid said. “But let’s not intrude on her dignity.”
“I have a salve perfect for scalp wounds,” Vinnie said, but backed off.
“I’m sure you do,” Astrid said, then hurried forward a bit.
The crowd stopped about ten feet from Astrid, who stood in front of Tomescu and Vinnie. She lowered her eyes and bowed low at the waist with her right hand over her heart. When she rose, the faces that met hers were still, proud and strong.
“My name is Astrid Sala. Tomescu here tells me that you could use some help.” She swept her right hand toward Vinnie. “My friend and I will help you. It is my honor to serve.”
Vinnie stepped forward, but stayed a pace behind Astrid. She appreciated the deference, but made a slight twitch of her hand until Vinnie stood directly beside her.
Vinnie clapped his heels together and bowed low, one hand at the small of his back, the other at his waist. He rose and said, “Astrid speaks for me, also. I pledge right here and now to defy anyone who would strike an Elder.”
The village faces remained stern. The old woman stepped forward. She stood inches from Astrid, her head reaching the center of Astrid’s chest. The old woman looked Astrid over from head to toe, then clamped both of her thin, hard hands on Astrid’s shoulders. She had to reach up to do it.
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