Malik the Bard

by Moore, Scott

  Malik stopped at the bottom and looked up at Abrie. Abrie still stood where he had left him, bow in hand. Abrie waved him onward. Malik hoped that meant he saw no more of those creatures around.

  The girl still breathed when Malik stopped next to her and kneeled. He reached out, pushing the loose strands of hair from her face. His heart still hammered hard inside his chest. This girl was the bravest person he had ever seen. He watched her take the shallow breaths of sleep and tucked his hands under her head and back.

  It was then that the panic died, and another thought clouded his young mind. The girl was beautiful and soft. Malik took a deep breath to steel himself and hoisted her into his arms. She smelled pleasant, even after the fighting and sweating.

  The girl stirred, and he waited for her to awaken, but she kept her eyes closed, only whispering the words, “my sword.” Before she went limp again.

  Malik looked over into the leaves, scattered across the ground. There, he could just make out the gleaming silver blade, covered by the red and yellow leaves of fall. He thought about reaching down and grabbing it but even without her, it would be cumbersome and awkward. With the girl in his arms, he would never be able to lug it up the hill. He would have to make two trips.

  The trek up the ravine wall was hell. It was almost impossible with the girl. Malik stopped and readjusted her onto his shoulders. Halfway up, Abrie lowered a large branch down toward him. Malik reached out with his free hand and grabbed the rough bark. Abrie surprised him again, as he hoisted the two young people up. Malik drove his feet into the side of the ravine and pulled on the stick to keep his balance. The girl stayed quiet. She had dropped from exhaustion and Malik wondered if she would ever recover from it.

  At the top, Abrie checked the girl’s neck for a heartbeat. Malik was quiet, as Abrie listened carefully.

  “It is strong,” Abrie finally stated. “We should get her off the road and set up a camp.”

  Malik looked around, half expecting to see another one of those large creatures. When he spotted nothing, he remembered the girl’s sword.

  “Right back,” he said without giving Abrie a chance to protest.

  The second trip down and up the ravine proved to be easier. The sword was much lighter than Malik would have ever guessed. It was long, longer than his body, but it weighed only as much as a small branch. Malik wondered what it was made from but had no time to inspect once he reached the top of the ravine.

  “Now that you are done playing, you can grab the girl and we can find a place to camp.” Abrie shook his head.

  Malik let out a soft chuckle. “Is Abrie, the calm, getting flustered?”

  Abrie stopped walking and turned. “Abrie is tired and has done far more today than I expected, and the sun is only half into the sky.”

  Malik looked up and saw that it could not have been even midday. He decided not to push the jest any further. Abrie had just shot a monster five times and killed it without breaking a sweat. Malik bent and picked the girl up, opting to carry both her and the sword, now that he knew the sword was so light.

  Abrie set up a small camp just a few spans from the roadway. Malik was thankful for the short walk. He was even more thankful when Abrie suggested that he would be the one to go and find the mules. Malik liked to think he was brave, but reality had proved him wrong today. He felt safer here, away from the road and tucked away. Not that it was any safer.

  Once Abrie left, Malik set to get the fire started. He thought about putting up the tents but remembered that they were still with the missing mules. So instead, he sat down and watched the girl as she took breaths in and out.

  He sat there for far too long, staring at her. He stared at her feather-like, golden hair. He imagined her frozen blue eyes, although he had only glimpsed them from a distance. He marveled at her facial structure and he remembered her smell. Then it all came crashing down and he realized how awkward he was.

  The girl was more than a beautiful woman. She was a person, and he drooled over her while she fought for her life. Malik got up and made sure she was close enough to the fire for warmth, although it was not particularly cold out this afternoon.

  After checking her, Malik paced the small circular clearing. He wore down the dirt, as he walked the same path over again. Abrie took a long time to find the mules. Malik wondered if he was okay. Had he run into another one of those monsters? Sure, Abrie had killed one of them but if he came under attack by a pack, then he would die like anyone else. Plus, Abrie would run out of arrows at some point. How many did he even have stored in that case?

  Malik lost track of how many laps he made. He even lost the fact that an unconscious girl lay just inside his circular path. Everything felt hopeless to him. Then he heard the braying of Callie and he smiled and laughed.

  Malik ran forward and grabbed the mule around her annoying neck.

  “I never thought I would be so happy to see you,” he said, really feeling a sense of joy in her stupid voice.

  Next through the line was Sally. She looked around the clearing as if the day had been nothing abnormal. Malik reached out and patted her on the top of her head. “It is good to see you too, old girl,” he whispered to her.

  Abrie was the last of the three to stumble back into their camp. He carried the bags that had fallen off Callie during her scare. Abrie tossed them near to the fire and sat down on a small rock.

  “I will get the tent put up,” Malik offered.

  He would let Abrie rest a moment or two before he bombarded him with questions. However, he had every intention of making Abrie answer questions. He would not get away with killing a monster and walking away with some jargon about serenity and peace. Malik would pry the answer from him if he had to.

  Abrie, the mules, and the girl were all quiet as Malik worked. Malik let the work consume him, for a time. It calmed his nerves and got his thoughts off another of those creatures. He wondered if his heart would ever stop hammering but after an hour, he was back to normal; just more tired than usual.

  With the camp set up, Malik scooted onto a nearby rock and looked up at Abrie. The old man had caught a quick nap but stared at the flames now.

  “I know you are going to ask questions,” Abrie said before Malik could gather up how he would ask the questions.

  “I have a few,” Malik said, trying to find some motivation to move forward with them.

  Abrie just shook his head. He would not be helping Malik by just spilling his guts. He would make Malik ask every single question he had. Then Abrie would ignore them all and act as if this never happened. At least, that is what Malik assumed Abrie would like to do.

  “What was that thing back there?”

  Abrie let out a sigh through his pursed lips.

  “There are many things in life you do not know, Malik. There are many you will die never knowing.”

  Malik shook his head. “That was a cheap answer and you know it.”

  Abrie would try to riddle his way out of this, just like he talked his way out of everything Malik ever asked.

  “The real answer,” Malik urged. He was tired of being treated like he would mess things up. Malik knew he flew off the handle sometimes, he knew that anger swelled up in him, but today he just wanted an answer, a plain answer.

  Abrie ran his hand over his chin. Malik almost began to believe he thought carefully about his answer to the question. Malik almost let himself believe that Abrie would fill him in on everything from the day. Nothing came. Abrie just sat there stroking his chin hair and staring into the fire. It was as if Malik had never asked a question of him at all. It was as if this was just another peaceful day and he sat enjoying the fire.

  Malik felt his anger bubbling up inside him. This was typical. He would shut Malik down at every turn. He treated him like a child at the best of times and an invalid at the worst. Malik was about to voice those opinions but Abrie spoke first.

  “The better question is this, where did this girl come from?”

  Malik w
as about to protest but the girl stirred and broke his concentration. She stayed asleep, just rolled to her side. Malik took a few deep breaths as he pondered her again. Why was she here in this forest? Why was she alone? Ultimately, why was she standing toe to toe with a damn monster? Malik glanced to the sword he had laid at her side. Again, he thought of the weight or lack-there-of. The sword was different than any weapon he had ever known, not that he had known very many.

  Malik shook the girl from his mind. Abrie did it again. He threw him off the scent while he ran for the hills.

  “That won’t work,” Malik said turning back toward Abrie.

  Abrie wasn’t there anymore though. He had moved during Malik’s daydreaming. Malik stood up and walked over to the mules, neither of them seemed to be spooked anymore.

  “Where did you go, Abrie?” Malik called out.

  Abrie was not near, or he chose not to answer Malik’s yelling.

  “Where did that old man go?” Malik asked himself aloud.

  Malik turned toward the mules to see if they had spotted Abrie as he passed. Both seemed uninterested in what their human counterparts were doing. They busied themselves with eating grass.

  Malik walked back to the fire but stayed standing. Abrie avoided him and his questions. At first, Malik thought about the creature and the possibility Abrie had been taken. There had been no screams or a sign of struggle though. Abrie had stood up, after distracting Malik, and he had walked away. The good sign was that Abrie had left the mules. That almost guaranteed he would come back. Malik resumed his pacing. It had been enough earlier to take his mind off things. Maybe if he just lost himself in it again, he could get his mind back to a healthy state. Back to what it had been this morning before he had ever seen the giant monster.

  For the second time that day, Malik paced himself into a mind-numbing, thoughtless state. The sun crawled high into the sky and started its descent. Malik began to wonder if Abrie really would come back. Maybe the man had finally broken and took off without him.

  Several hours after nightfall, with Malik huddled close to the fire, Abrie stumbled back into the camp. He said nothing to Malik and made for the tents. Malik decided not to stop him. Abrie would not answer anyhow and he felt too tired to argue about it. Instead, he resumed his inspection of the flames. He would let Abrie sleep, and tomorrow he would start up the second round of questioning. Maybe this time he would fare better, but he doubted it very much.

  Chapter 4

  Almost the Same

  Malik tried to sleep during the night. He had curled up, outside the tent, and tried to close his eyes. The creature’s fangs greeted him every time. The weather was not warm; it leaned towards cool, but Malik kept jerking awake in a sweat. He decided to stop giving it the effort. There was no use, and he would feel worse if he kept trying.

  Callie gave a loud braying as she saw Malik sit up and glance over the camp. Malik held up his finger over his lips. “Shut up,” he said to her. Callie listened about as well as he expected she would, giving another loud braying. Malik just shook his head. The mule was simple, no denying it. He chose to ignore her.

  Malik thought for a minute about waking Abrie and making him talk. That thought passed when he doubted it was even midnight. He would just have to sit alone and wait out the sun.

  Malik stood and stretched his muscles, before walking over to the tree where he had slung the water canteens. He took a long drink to wash the taste of sleep from his mouth.

  “Can I have a drink of that?”

  Malik screeched and dropped the full canteen to his feet. He scrambled to turn and face whoever had spoken, only to find that the girl, he had carried to the camp, had woken up. Embarrassment and shame riled. He bent down, clumsily and fumbled with the half-full canteen.

  Walking it over to where the girl sat, he passed it to her. She gave a chuckle and took it from his hands. After a long drink, she put the stopper back into the neck and handed it back to Malik, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Malik shrugged, still trying to gather his bearings. Had the monster messed with him that bad? He jumped at girls now? He corrected himself, a girl who could swing a sword. Malik sat down across from the girl and said nothing to her. She stared back for a few moments.

  “I am Mollie,” she said, extending her hand toward him.

  Malik knew the correct response. He should introduce himself and shake her extended hand. Instead, he fumbled out an incoherent sentence and then fell backward off the rock. Lying there he tried to figure out just what in the world went on with him.

  Mollie did not wait for him to gather himself. She stood over him with an outstretched hand. “Customary to shake the offered hand,” she laughed.

  Malik closed his eyes, trying to push down the embarrassment. Opening his eyes, he extended his hand toward her and grasped her palm. With a quick jerk, she had him on his feet. His face was rather close to her face. He could feel her breath on his cheeks. She cracked a smile.

  “What is your name, friend?” she asked, turning away from him.

  Malik looked down to hide his reddening cheeks from her. “I am Malik. The man in the tent, over there, is Abrie. We are traveling bards.”

  Mollie returned to her seat next to the fire. Malik followed suit and sat down beside her, so she could not look him in the eyes.

  “Well, I am glad you guys were here today,” Mollie said as her way of thanks.

  “What were you doing out here anyhow?” Malik asked, daring to turn a slight bit to look at her.

  Mollie started to look around the camp. She stood and walked around the fire to where she had been sleeping a moment before.

  “Did you get my sword?” she asked.

  Malik pointed to where her sword just jutted out above the grass. Mollie gave a small sigh of relief and bent to grab it.

  “Father’s sword, at least it used to be my father’s sword. Guess it technically is my sword now.”

  Mollie flipped the sword in her hands a few times and then moved back to the rock, sitting the sword down at her feet.

  “I was here on a mission of sorts.” Mollie looked over at him. Malik felt like she assessed him for something. Her eyes trailed him up and down. “Do you fight?”

  Malik shook his head. “I am a bard. Not much fighting in my line of work. Although, I do start several fights; mostly between drunks in the inns and taverns.”

  Mollie bit her lip and turned toward the fire. “My village was a village of warriors. Some people would have called us mercenary people. My parents had been with the band for twenty years. My father taught me the sword.”

  Malik could see that the words were hurting her. There was no telling why, but tears made it apparent that she was sorrowful. Malik decided against asking her about it. He would let her sit in silence if that was what she needed.

  Mollie kept talking though. “He told me once that I would make a great swordsman. Now, I will never reach that potential.” Mollie bent forward and ran her hand over the blade of the sword. “That is what life gives us though. Not always what we want, but what it wants us to have.” She moved her hand.

  “Where is your father? Can we help you get back to him?” Malik asked.

  The look on her face made him regret having spoken. Her eyes turned away and her hand wiped at the tears that pooled in them. “Not unless you can find the dead.”

  Malik doubted very much that anyone had those powers, so he kept his mouth quiet. Staring at the flames, he felt more awkward than he ever had. Even more awkward than the first time he tried playing on his own in a crowded inn. That night had felt like the worst night in the worldaside from his parent’s deathbut he felt even worse than that now.

  Malik wondered how Mollie felt but she didn’t give him any hints. He started to think of a way to spark a new conversation but all the words he came up with sounded dumb and died on his lips. Instead, he just sat there, staring at the fire and wishing he had t
he nerve to get up and move away.

  “It was the Tempre Warriors,” Mollie said almost too low to hear.

  Malik’s ears listened for those words. He would have heard them even if she had been a mile away because to him, they rang like church bells. No longer was he embarrassed or uncomfortable. He no longer thought about anything else. Twirling on Mollie, he got right in front of her, no longer caring how red his face was.

  “Did you say the Tempre Warriors?”

  She looked at him with growing confusion. He realized how close and animated he was. He took only a small step back.

  “I thought I heard you say the Tempre Warriors.”

  Mollie looked him over.

  “Yes, do you know of them?” she asked.

  Malik nodded his head frantically. He knew them. He knew them well, better than anyone else in the world. He had read every book he could sneak on them. He had visited every library that had any information on them at all. Though there had been little. The Tempre Warriors made it a point not to be written about. Those who did, met untimely fates and their books were burned on principle.

  “They attacked my village when I was younger. Killed my entire family and everyone else I had ever known.”

  Mollie looked even more confused. Malik realized then that he smiled from ear to ear as he described his family’s death. On realization, the smile dropped. He backed away further, feeling foolish.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” he said. His heart had almost exploded from the excitement of the situation. “I have just never known anyone else brave enough to speak of them.”

  Mollie just stared at him.

  “How do you know of them?” he asked her.

  Mollie cast her eyes toward her father’s sword again. Malik thought he had scared her into silence. He had ruined his only shot at ever talking to another living soul about the Warriors. He wanted to move forward and shake her, telling her she had to talk to him.