As Charlotte’s gaze again fell to the ground near to Wandalor, she recognized a set of armor. The shoulders were fairly oval, quite short and wide in size, decorated with a tiger’s head on one side. The upper arms were protected by pointed layers to hide rear braces which sat under the shoulder plates. The lower arms were covered by vambraces which had a lion paw attached to each outer side. The breastplate was made from many V-shaped layers of leather and fur, with squared edges and decorative pieces. It covered everything from the neck down and ended at the groin. “Johan!” she shouted.
Blood seeped from Johan’s mortal wound and sweat dripped down his forehead. Johan knew his shoulder was separated from his torso by the blow he had received from that battle axe. Johan felt a dull pain, but it was surely numbed by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He thought, It will all be over soon enough. Pain would never last that long, right? The realization that he may be wrong caused a moment of panic. The pain was usually no more than a minor nuisance to him, however right now it was far more than that. His entire body trembled. Weak and exhausted, it cost him all his remaining strength to keep fighting. He managed to block out some of the pain by keeping his mind occupied with other tasks, like remembering how to breathe. It wasn’t ideal; by the time the battle was done the pain would subside again.
Lightning came like a rip in the inky night. It was as if behind the dark canvass was a brilliant light just waiting to flood through any crack, no matter how small. That small crack was in the window of the inn and the room Charlotte shared with her traveling companions. Charlotte bolted upright before the lightning could end, fully awake as thunder exploded in the night air.
Darr and Johan joined Wandalor in the tavern. They were surprised to find their friend sober. They took a table and ordered food. Darr looked over at Wandalor. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I am fine,” Wandalor answered.
“Did you leave your coin bag in the room?” Darr questioned. Wandalor patted his pouch, jingling his coins slightly, and answered, “No.”
Darr paused, puzzled. “We established you feel fine and are sober. Not that it’s a bad thing, it just never happens.”
Wandalor sighed. “We have a situation here that requires me to keep hold of my faculties. Darr, you have swords and knives, which you keep sharp with stones. I keep my mind sharp with books and alcohol. A mind full of thought is like a herd of gazelle, and booze is like a lion on the plains. A lion targets the slowest and the weakest creatures. When the herd is hunted, those are caught and killed by the hunter. Thus the healthiest and fastest of the herd improves itself by the regular disposal of the weak. The brain is the same way. It is a herd of thoughts and ideas.” Wandalor’s hands encircled his head. “The intake of the drink will naturally attack the slowest and weakest thoughts. In this way regular consumption of spirits kills off the weaker thoughts, making the brain a faster and more keenly- edged weapon for a man like me.”
Darr, about to speak, saw the side door of the tavern open. Gadlin and Thalin rushed in. The two trackers shared what they’d discovered. Wandalor nodded, saying, “The beast has the body of a giant jaguar standing eight feet at the shoulder, the tale of a scorpion, and the head of a cobra.” All the travelers turned and look at Wandalor. Darr, in a terse whisper, said, “Why did you not tell us if you knew that, Wandalor?”
“It is amazing what you discover when you listen to idle talk in a tavern.” Wandalor smiled.
Johan looked at his friends. “Come along. Let’s go upstairs and prepare.” Wandalor agreed, stating, “ We have much to do.”
Darr looked oddly distraught. As the group ascended the stairs all the men tensed for a moment then began to sprint, taking two steps at a time. They all heard a piercing scream coming from Charlotte. They stormed into the room and saw her sitting upright in her bed, shaking. She looked terrified. Immediately they went to her bedside to figure out what happened. All dropped to a knee except for Wandalor, who sat on the edge of her bed, and Darr, who stood with arms crossed over his chest at the foot of the bed.
“Are you hurt?” Gadlin asked. Charlotte shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I have horrible nightmares, visions. They’ve tormented me my entire life. I’ll be settled in a few moments.” She looked around at all the concerned faces and watched as they slowly softened, believing she was in no danger. She attempted to smile. Wandalor patted her hand, telling her, “We will leave you then as we prepare.”
The men holding the keys produced them, unlocked, and opened the boxes full of weapons, armor, and other assorted gear. Wandalor immediately picked up his harpy cloak and spoke a quiet incantation. The cloak stood on its own. Wandalor gathered his belt of multiple pouches and secured it on his waist. Darr looked over his armor, shaking it a couple of times. The armor rattled and clunked. He wondered how well he was going to sneak into the hideout of the beast.
Johan noticed Darr’s difficulty, reached into his backpack, and pulled out a package of rags. He said to Darr, “Instant armor silencing.” Darr looked at the rags with a questioning look on his face. Johan moved over to Darr’s bed, took the armor from his hands, and laid it out. Johan removed some of the rags from the package and began to stuff the rags between the layers of Darr’s armor where they would clink up against each other. He smiled at Darr. “See? It’s quieter; not perfect, but it is less noisy.”
Darr looked at his friend. “Thank you, my friend. There are times when I question you and the integrity of your actions; this time I do not want to know how you know how to do this.” Darr smiled.
“Probably best if you do not ask,” Johan said.
Thalin and Gadlin put on their armor like they were donning a set of clothing in the reverse. Normally, people put on undergarments, then pants, then tunic, and foot coverings lastly. These men were dressing in a manner so as to put on things from the ground up. Charlotte watched as they reached for pants, shoes, breastplates, arm guards, then gloves or not, depending on the armor, and lastly helmets. The men were quick about the business of dressing. In a matter of moments, they were covered in leathers. The others helped Johan then Darr.
Darr was fastening his metal armor in a ritualistic manner, saying a prayer after each area of his body was covered by his armor. First his leg armor: “Holy Guardian of the Light, Creator of heaven and earth.” Darr then put on his chest piece and Thalin buckled him in at the marked points. Darr continued his prayer, “I was foolish. I strayed from Your path and did not heed Your ways.” Darr fastened his arm guards: “Liberate me from my sins, deliver me from evil.” Darr hopped in place to get all the pieces to settle into place. He fastened his sword belt so that he could draw his sword from over his shoulder. “I accept my deserved punishment so that I may bask in Your glory once more.” He placed his helmet on his head and took a knee. After a moment he stood.
Johan stood off from Darr and looked at him a moment. “I would not want to meet you in a dark alley, or a well-lit one for that matter.” Then Johan said to Charlotte, who stood close by, looking in amazement at the precision of the act of dressing for battle, “This metal armor is the reason Darr survived standing in the fire of the dragon Uthi, the Life Taker. She was an all-day affair.”
Charlotte blanched. “You killed a dragon?”
Darr answered, “Yes. She required killing.”
Wandalor watched his friends as they moved together like a single organism. Each fastening, tying, and attaching things to one another without words or requests. They saw a need and moved to fill the need. Each knew that they would be well protected and armed. Wandalor took notice of Charlotte as she stood, quietly watching the men go about their tasks. Softly, Wandalor spoke a word to the harpy cloak and it opened enough to accept him. When he was inside the cloak it loosened and dropped onto his shoulders, lifting itself off of the floor, and fastened itself at the collar.
“Slow and easy.” Wandalor spoke as if he were reading a book. “Slow is smooth,” Darr said as he made a thrusting motion. �
�Smooth is fast,” Johan said wryly. “But all the way,” Thalin said as he looked at Gadlin. “To the hilt,” Gadlin said as he moved closer to his friends.
All five of them pulled money pouches and unneeded items off of their person. They each in turn took a moment to take a lesson from Darr and bounce up and down a bit, listening for a jingle or a clink. Silence was key when sneaking up on a beast, and they all knew it all too well. Experience was an uncompromising teacher.
Darr looked at his friends, his gaze resting on Thalin. “About thirty minutes outside town, you say?”
Gadlin replied, “There about.”
Johan made for the door, dropping his chest key into Charlotte’s hand. “Well, there’s no time like the present!”
Darr took a step towards Charlotte and stopped. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Do not follow us, as this is truly dangerous.” He turned, not waiting for a response. He didn’t want one nor did he want to hear any argument from her.
Gadlin took a step in her direction, handing her the other chest key for safekeeping as well. “I wonder if you would mind going out to the apothecary while we’re gone and procuring a few bandages. Also, some tinctures for pain. Chances are one or two of us will get hurt and it will be easier if you’re ready with some of that when we get back, so... well, you know—” Gadlin trailed off as he stepped away and out the door. Wandalor said to her as he and Johan made for the door, “We will be as safe as we can and do our duty.”
Johan closed the door behind them, and they walked down the stairs to the main room of the inn. One Cut saw the men come down the stairs. He placed five flasks on the bar and each man took one silently as they passed the bar. The five men walked quietly into the afternoon air.
Chapter Fourteen
The group departed the inn, leaving Charlotte. She halfheartedly protested at first, so as to give them the impression that she wanted to be a part of the task. She didn’t want to raise suspicion. Charlotte decided to take advantage of the opportunity to be alone. She set out to locate the first piece while they were gone.
Charlotte put on her cloak and left the inn through a back door. She slipped down the alley and into a crowded street. She remembered where she saw the shop when they first entered Blackweb. She rounded the next corner and went over the bridge. Charlotte found herself on the street that had a sign that read “Merchants’ Row”. She knew she was close.
She walked past peddlers with all sort of strange gadgetry and food items. She wanted to stop and look out of curiosity; however, she wasn’t sure how much time she had to do what was required and get back to the inn before the party of travelers returned. She looked into the windows of the shops as she walked.
One shop was a dressmaker’s store. She told herself to remember where it was for a future dress purchase. She read the sign for a shoemaker. The next sign she saw was the one she sought.
The shop was painted a golden color, which might have been bright yellow at one time. In the window was a display with a soft looking chair, its high back shaped like butterfly wings. The sign sitting next to it read, “Antique wing chair”. It was a strange shade of pink but looked soft. Next to the chair was a table, on top of which were an unlit lamp and a stack of boxes that looked like books. Charlotte knew that no one would be foolish enough to put books out in the open like that and expect to have an intact window the next morning. Books were valued objects and coveted by many. Charlotte looked up at the sign swinging above the door upon which the words “Salvage Garden” were painted in green.
She entered the shop. A tinkling doorbell sounded above her head. A disembodied voice called from the back of the shop in a singsong tune, “Be right with you!” There were some sounds like that of two people arguing in gruff, hushed tones.
“I told you the thingamabobs don’t go next to the frickle fidgeters,” a female voice said.
“It makes sense to put them there; that’s why you don’t want them on that shelf,” a male voice answered.
“Hush you, we have a customer,” the woman said as she approached Charlotte. The woman was only three feet tall and very old. Sitting on the bridge of her nose was a pair of eyeglasses that were too big for her round, wrinkled face.
“Don’t hush me, woman, I’m not a dog; my name is not Uboo. He was a good dog, he was.” The man was a half foot taller than the woman, and just as old. His bald head was shiny. Above his mouth, his mustache was long and gray. “How may we help you?”
“I’m looking for a particular thing. It’s round and made of copper. It’s like a gear, only not,” replied Charlotte. She made a circle with her hands to show the size. “Hmm,” the shopkeepers said.
“We have this.” The woman held up a china plate pulled from out of thin air, which was a burnt orange color.
“Not that,” Charlotte said.
“Let me see, let me see,” the little man said, pulling up his suspenders. He grabbed a pair of green glass goggles with brass rims out of a box, putting them on his eyes and snapping the leather strap over the back of his head. “I will look in the dark corners.”
“May I help look?” Charlotte doubted the proprietors’ ability to find what she needed.
“Yes, yes,” said the little woman. “Mind the wardrobe; it has been known to bite, and we haven’t fed it yet today.”
There was a sudden flinging of items and dust flew about the shop. Charlotte ducked, managing just in time to not get hit by a bowling pin that soared past her head. She looked in drawers, peered in boxes, and walked way around the wardrobe that seemed to stare at her as she passed.
The little man jumped up in front of Charlotte, who jumped too. He said, “May I interest you in a copy of Fundamental Stories of Harmless History? It is a signed first edition. I wrote it myself.” She politely declined. “Fine, fine. We will keep looking for your gear but not thing.”
The woman shouted to her husband, “Ernie, look under the soup fountain!”
“Let me see. I found this.” The man tossed a hand mixer, a statue of a cow, and a compact mirror across the room. “Bernie, check in the cold closet.”
“Ah yes, yes.” The old woman picked up the hem of her long purple skirt, pranced to the far corner of the room, and opened a white door with a shiny round emblem resembling the letters G and E. “No, only this square portal,” she said as she pulled out a picture frame.
“That chair in the window it is very nice,” Charlotte said, in an attempt to be polite so she could look closer at the display behind where the man stood. “Yes, yes. It’s a wing chair but, no, it doesn’t fly,” Ernie replied perturbed and unmoved. He mumbled, “Every dag nab customer who comes in here wants to know if the chair flies.”
Charlotte was about to give up and accept that she may have the wrong shop, when a glint of sunlight bounced off the lamp sitting on the table in the window display. The glare flashed into her eyes. She walked over and picked up the object and looked at it intently, turning it around in her hands. The bottom of the base was the right color, she thought.
“That is a fine illumination device. It needs the power, though, so if your house doesn’t have that or if you aren’t a powerful person it won’t light up for you,” Ernie said. “You must live in a capital city and have access to aether power.”
“How much?” Charlotte inquired. “How much do you want for the lamp?”
“Oh, a few pages of significance or a silver piece,” Bernie answered.
Charlotte opened a small pouch at her waist. She pulled out a small blue-cloth-covered book. On the spine was faint gold letters that read The New Test. Charlotte reached into the book, pulling out two pages that were fairly clean. She was cautious not to pull out her favorite pages that had the name Matthew on the top of them. Charlotte handed the pages with John written on the top edge over to the woman. The woman looked down at the papers through her enormous lenses. “Ah, John. This will do, Miss. Shall we wrap it up for you?”
“No need.” Charlotte set the lamp on a nearby
table. She first removed the brass fork harp that held the two sockets. Then she unscrewed it from the base. “What is she doing?” Ernie removed his goggles and replaced them with a monocle in his left eye. He leaned in for a closer look and studied Charlotte’s actions intently. “She’s making a fine mess, she is. Tsk, tsk,” Bernie tutted.
Charlotte then removed the screw on the base of the lamp and took it apart piece by piece. The pieces fell away and onto the table. She carefully pulled off a copper plate with notches engraved on the edges and an octagonal hole in the center. It was shiny as a new penny. On the surface of the plate there were runes marked in the copper. Charlotte held it up and inspected it in the sunlight. “Oh,” said Ernie and Bernie in unison. “Like a gear but not.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said softly. “Sorry about the mess, but you can keep the rest.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Miss,” Ernie said.
“Pleasure,” Bernie said with a huff.
“Manners, Bernie. I can repair and we can resell. One light maker, two sales. Mm-hmm,” Ernie chastised his wife as Charlotte rushed out of the store, pulling the cloak over her head. She retraced her steps to the inn and slipped in through the back door, unseen. Or so she thought.
Chapter Fifteen
Knowing that they must be quiet to be successful, the five men decided not to take the horse and wagon. Once outside the gates, all eyes fell to Gadlin and Thalin. “This is your show now,” Darr said to the two skilled naturalists.
“Right. I’ll take point. Johan, keep close to me with those sharp eyes of yours. Darr, keep Wandalor company. And Thalin, you bring up the rear. Let’s move at a quick pace now, until we get closer to the objective or we encounter something,” Gadlin instructed.
The Travelers' Song Page 11
