The Travelers' Song

by Brendan O'Gara

  Adrenaline was surging at full power in Darr’s veins. He felt the strength within him grow with every pound of his heart. Darr had missed his first strike. He saw what he believed to be Gadlin on top of the pinned spider. The spider pulled right in an attempt to flee. This would be the perfect time for an over the head, two-handed crushing blow, thought Darr. He was unaware of the spell Wandalor cast on him. His vision narrowed, so he only saw the landscape of battle, a place of familiarity, of home.

  Wandalor and Charlotte stood there, awe-struck at the glistening of the spider as it shone in the sun. To be such a brutal creature, it was dazzling. The vial Wandalor had tossed mixed with the sheen on the skin. As they watched, a nine-foot, celestial, blazing sword split into the spider’s carapace, igniting the beast. The animal’s muscles inside the exoskeleton flexed to escape the impending doom. Darr, having an increase in mass and strength, was no match and easily overpowered the spider. The dead body of the spider lay hissing in flames from the oil and Darr’s blade.

  Darr paused, took a breath, looked around, and realized his stature was much larger than a moment ago. He left his burning sword in the spider, looked at his hands, and then glanced over to Gadlin. He finally gazed over his other shoulder at Wandalor.

  Darr pointed down at his own chest. “Is this you?”

  Wandalor nodded.

  “How long am I going to be like this?” Darr said.

  “An hour, give or take.” Wandalor spoke with a wave of his hand as he turned to go check on Gadlin.

  Darr immediately took a knee over Gadlin and prayed to the God of Light. His hands held the holy symbol on a chain wrapped around his hand: a five-pointed star with a cross bar top to bottom and a second cross beam left to right. He extended his other hand and held it over Gadlin. The healing power of the God of Light fell over Gadlin and the giant barbed spider hair that had impaled his leg fell from him, its solidity lost before it hit the ground, turning to dust. Gadlin instantly felt better. There was no wound. Not even a hole in his armor. Gadlin felt like he had awoken from a full night’s rest. “I love your Paladin spells, Darr.” Gadlin grinned.

  Wandalor wasn’t impressed. His eye caught the eye of Charlotte, who saw that Gadlin was all right and rushed over to check Thalin. He was conscious, and not happy about it as pain seeped through him.

  Johan looked down the spider hole and considered investigating the lair. He looked over at his friend Thalin, and at the wounds. Johan remembered a lesson he had learned from Gadlin. Gadlin’s wise lesson was simple yet efficient: “Spiders, burn them.” Johan moved over and reached into Thalin’s pouch. He picked up two vials, one with a recognizable black oil inside and the other with a strange metallic yellow mixture. Like tossing coins into a wishing well, Johan let them loose one after the other. The oil went first. When he heard the breaking of glass Johan released the second vial. The second vial fell, sending up a bright light as it exploded when it hit the bottom of the trap. It held a substance made by alchemists to create fire that grows with air. Johan said as he walked away, “The woods have spiders—burn the woods down.”

  Still enormous, Darr scooped Gadlin up off the ground and walked over to the back of the wagon. He gently placed Gadlin in the back. Johan lifted Thalin up over one shoulder and looked over at Darr. Darr made a quick nod in his direction. Thalin was still woozy and appeared light- headed, yet Johan stepped away from his friend.

  “What are you doing?” Charlotte yelled at Johan.

  Just then, Thalin began to fall but Darr’s giant hand caught and cradled him. Charlotte saw that, like a well-oiled machine, these five worked in a seamless motion. Each knowing the others’ strengths and weakness. The abilities of each one was in the mind of the others. From how fast they moved to what made them sluggish. Without words, they communicated with their movements.

  Wandalor picked up everything that belonged to the group and placed it on the wagon. He then reached for Charlotte as Johan mounted the seat of the wagon and grabbed for the reins. “I am hoping you will keep an eye on these two as we find a place to camp for the night.” Wandalor helped Charlotte into the back of the wagon as she climbed up and sat herself next to Thalin.

  Darr reached for his now extinguished bastard sword, removing it from what was left of the charred spider. He took a few hesitant steps around the area before looking at Johan and Wandalor. His new size and stride length would allow him to keep up with the wagon even at a slow walk. “Hmm...at a moderate pace, in about an hour we can travel some distance. If I remember from the map, there’s a place relatively close to a lake system near the road,” Darr said as he walked. “We will need to put some distance between us and here. This land can be dangerous at night.”

  “At night!” Johan exclaimed. “This place is dangerous in bright daylight, at night indeed!”

  Chapter Three

  The night was warm and humid as the band of travelers decided that it was time to stop and rest. As Wandalor predicted, an hour passed and his spell wore off of Darr almost on cue as the wagon took a turn toward an area Wandalor directed. The hour healed the wounds as well. As the group made camp the men moved about, each knowing what they needed to do to prepare meals and a fire for the evening. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon as they sat around the fire, not for warmth but for light and protection. They didn’t to put up tents, as both Thalin and Gadlin said that there was no sign for rain. Instead, they pulled out bed rolls and marked an area for sleep. Most night creatures shy away from fire light, so they placed the sleeping gear close to the firelight.

  Johan held his blade in his hands and methodically slid it across a whetstone. He paused only slightly every few minutes to pour water out of his canteen to moisten the stone as it dried. Thalin sat to Johan’s right, organizing the contents of his satchel and taking inventory of his potions and herbs. Across the other side of the fire was Darr, reading the map. He looked for possible routes to continue the journey at dawn. No later, as orcs would be looking to find them in the daylight. This part of the land, just on the outskirts of Blackweb, was orc country.

  Gadlin lay flat on his back, meditating and listening to the laminations of the forest as he tried to rest. He wanted to regain his strength from the day’s trials.

  Wandalor was sitting on Gadlin’s left, reading a found book of spells. Every few minutes he would humph at the simplicity of the crude incantations. He needed no such book to perform Eldritch acts. He thought it humorous that the human from whom Johan stole the book believed it such a prized possession.

  “I am going out to scout the surroundings before we completely settle in for the night.” Gadlin said, and got up. He noiselessly slipped into the trees.

  “I need to, um,” Charlotte started, then hesitated. She looked around at the men. “I need to go to the river and bathe.” She turned a pleading eye to Wandalor. He nodded.

  Darr looked up sharply at her from the map. “Go straight to the water’s edge. Do not wander about looking for posies, as you woman are prone to do. This forest isn’t safe, and after dark it will become more perilous.”

  “I do not recall asking your permission, Darr,” she hissed. She rifled through her bag and chose a simple cotton chemise. Then, on second thought, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She walked towards the water.

  “All the same, stay on the path and come back to the fireside quickly.” Darr looked back down at the map and mumbled, “Women.”

  Thalin settled his satchel, folded his legs, and started his meditations. As he begins to sense the water and the land around him, he saw in his mind as Charlotte undressed and slipped silently into the water. He turned his attention to the current and the movement as the river slid along the confines of the clay bank. He sensed something in the distance breaking the calm of water. He reached over for Charlotte’s cloak that she had tossed by where he sat and worked the fabric in between his fingers. With his other hand he picked up a small clump of earth and sprinkled it across
the top of his hand. He reached for his canteen and opened it. He lightly poured a small amount of water to wash away the dirt from the top of his hand. He squeezed tightly with his left hand and forced out his will.

  A blue essence rolled out of Thalin’s hand, perceptible only to Wandalor, whose attention was on the book in his lap. The ground around Thalin seemed vibrant. There was a swish of heavy wings in flight above him as some large bird took to the air. Around the perimeter of the camp, flower heads perked up and the crickets’ song paused. After a few seconds the insect chorus returned. Darr glanced up from studying the map. “That was strange.” He noticed that Johan wasn’t sitting as he was across the fire. Darr shook his head.

  Gadlin emerged from the tree line. “We got...” Darr interjected, “Stop! The girl has gone to take a bath and Johan is gone.”

  Gadlin huffed, “Fine, but why is it always me who has to stop him from giving girls green dresses?”

  Charlotte wasn’t worried to go into the woods alone to bathe. Her father had made sure from an early age that she was prepared to take care of herself. As one noble-born, she had the expected servants at her fingertips. However, often she would choose to do things on her own. Bathing and dressing were two of the things she would do alone every chance she got. She wasn’t ashamed to be nude in the presence of her ladies. In her station of life, modesty wasn’t something that was expected. The only exception was in the company of men. She looked back over her shoulder and didn’t see any sign of the travelers. She saw just glimpses of the firelight flickering through the trees. She heard the familiar hoots and coos of an owl above her.

  She made her way down to the river and removed her boots and stockings. She dipped one toe into the current to find out if the water temperature was worth disrobing completely. The water, while cool, was not intolerable. The ripples caressed her feet. How long had it been since she had had a real bath with soap and oils? Too long, she thought.

  With that she removed her petticoat, over-dress and undergarments, settling herself into the water just above her waist. She craved the scent of lavender and cream that came from the fine soap she had at home. She groaned, “Home.” She knew her assignment was an honorable one and a necessary one, yet she missed home. As she relaxed, she closed her eyes and let the water envelop her. She sank down and let her hair float around her like a coppery brown cloud. She emerged and lay back to float, a bit careful as not to let the current ease her downstream.

  She thought of these men who had graciously offered to accompany her to Blackweb. She was thankful for the protection. She didn’t want to admit that she had been a little frightened to travel alone.

  The truth was she had started out with two of her father’s men, who she had ditched in a tavern three days ago. They would reach her father’s throne room by tomorrow afternoon. The two guards would be lucky if the king didn’t execute them for losing her. She tried not to smile at the thought of how easy it was to escape them. She had told her father she wanted to travel to Blackweb to purchase new silk for gowns. She couldn’t tell him the real reason for her visit to the city. She wouldn’t tell these traveling men her real intent either. She would pull the same escape trick on them as soon as she arrived at the first inn or tavern in Blackweb. When she finished what she needed to do, she would charter a ship home. She sighed and sank back down into the water as she devised her plan.

  Johan stepped lightly, looking for places to softly place his feet. He squatted down and leaned forward over a large stone, wearing only pair of pants; his torso bare. His shoes and shirt he’d left fireside. All his weapons but a dagger that he kept at his back were with his shoes. He gazed through the brush at the woman in the river. He began to crawl low across the rocks, keeping his head down so he could just see Charlotte bathing. He sighed. Her skin glowed milky white in the darkening light as the moon rose behind her in the sky. Johan had bedded many women, so he knew that this woman was a rare beauty. As far as he could see from a distance, she was unmarked. Then she turned her back towards him. She untied the leather cord from her hair and it cascaded down her back. He caught a glimpse of a dark red scar on her right shoulder blade that looked like a gash left by a claw mark. Its shape reminded him of writing in a strange language that he couldn’t read. Johan had never needed to learn words.

  Gadlin moved silently among the trees as if he were a shadow, placing his steps in those of someone who had just passed the way he was going. He knew whose feet were ahead of him though he could not see him. Yet he could smell his friend. The moon had not yet come out and the sun was setting. As his friend took a deep breath and let out a stilted sigh, his form became visible to Gadlin.

  He could see Johan lying on the rocks, sprawled out, blending his body with the stones like a predator. Gadlin looked at his comrade intently for a moment and pushed himself up against a tree to hide his silhouette in its night shadow. Gadlin was confident in his surroundings. He had not disturbed the insects, as they were still chirping and making noise. Ever aware of the dangers the night held, he was cautious.

  Gadlin slowly moved one hand up to his left earlobe and pinched it on the earring he wore in the shape of a leaf, and in a throat whisper spoke to his friend. “What are you doing out there on those rocks? If I were an orc, I could splay you open from stem to stern,” Gadlin whispered.

  Johan hissed, “Be quiet, mongrel. I’m trying to see if this girl, woman, is worth our time and trouble protecting.”

  “Like she could hear our conversation going on inside our own throats; and of course, she is,” Gadlin said, admiring the female form rising from the water. “Come on, this is disrespectful. We shouldn’t be peering at her. Let’s go back to the fire. I’m sure Thalin has a protection spell going by now.”

  Frustrated, Johan moved off the rocks and back to camp. He scowled at Gadlin, who was already seated.

  Charlotte, having cleaned and dressed, arrived back at camp to the crescendo of laughter as Johan delivered the punchline of a joke. Thinking that she was the subject of the joke, she glared at the men. They all looked at her, being in good nature and enjoying the companionship that they all shared. Charlotte felt like an outsider.

  “So how is that I am so amusing now?” Charlotte asked.

  “No, no you’re not the target. Johan was just telling us about his Aunt Vera,” Gadlin said as he snickered.

  Wandalor decided that he would intervene before there was a surge of female tears to console. “Charlotte, come sit; tell us about you.” Charlotte spread out a sleeping mat and, after wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, she sat next to him. At least he seemed to genuinely interested in her.

  “I’m just a simple woman headed to Blackweb to conduct business of a personal nature,” she answered vaguely.

  “I am not concerned yet as to your business in the city. I am interested in you, Charlotte. I cannot agree that you are a simple woman. Not that you are barely old enough to be called a woman, I am interested in you as a human person and your family origins. You are a mystery. You say you are simple; however, your cloak would say differently if it could speak. Your cloak, it cannot speak, correct?”

  “No, of course not. Cloaks don’t speak,” she said, and all the men around the fire snickered. She frowned.

  Charlotte took a deep breath. She wanted to tell them about herself. She wasn’t sure if she could trust them. As she weighed the ramifications of telling them who she was or lying, she remembered that her mother was known for her honesty. “Better to be honest. Lies build on top of each other,” her mother would say.

  “I am simple. My father is a king, true, however I was not allowed to think that my position in life made me a better human than any other living soul. My mother would not have me thinking I were more important than any of you. Though, to explain you all to her would be a difficult task, as I have never met a group like you all here. I’ve been raised to be a nobleman’s wife. I have no choice over my future. To control the heritage lines, humans think they have
to control breeding. Women and men of any means or wealth don’t have the luxury of choosing our futures. Not like the other races. Lucky dwarves or elves,” she scoffed, and continued. “We have to lead a life issued to us by fate and family. I’m not going to bore you with what you already know about life for humans.” Charlotte picked up a nearby cup of cool water that one of the travelers set close to her and drank. She nodded her thanks and continued.

  “I know about Eldritch. I was born of magic. My mother was childless for many decades. She was determined to fulfill her duty. It’s known that a childless wife is grounds for a husband to divorce her. It mattered not that it was probably my father’s lack that kept my mother from conceiving, since none of the medical experts could find anything physically wrong with her. My mother, out of desperation, called the local apothecary witch for a potion for fertility. I was conceived on a dark night in the midst of a great storm, so I was told. Magic doesn’t come from talent; magic comes from pain. I was born from great pain that my mother never fully recovered. It drove her mad. She jumped to her death when I was twelve years old.”

  Murmurs of sympathy and understanding filled the air. Charlotte shook her head. “No. I don’t need your pity. I’m strong because of my mother. She was lucid and not insane, rather tormented. Now she’s at peace, and I’m at peace knowing that to be true.”

  Wandalor squeezed her arm. “We all have our own torment. You are among friends; you may not fully believe that yet, but you are more like us than you realize. Please share what you will.”