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DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
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D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 10
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-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 2
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DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
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\\
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\
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========================================================================
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DargonZine Distributed: 03/29/1997
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Volume 10, Number 2 Circulation: 636
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========================================================================
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Contents
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Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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Rats! Max Khaytsus Sy 20, 1014
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Ruthless Revelry 2 Carlo N. Samson Yuli 4-5, 1015
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Shattered Love 1 Mark A. Murray Sy 1015
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Night One Max Khaytsus Naia 10, 1015
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========================================================================
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DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
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collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
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We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
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Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
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on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues
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are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
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public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
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DargonZine 10-2, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright March, 1997 by
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the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>.
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All rights reserved. All rights are reassigned to the individual
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contributors. Stories may not be reproduced or redistributed without
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the explicit permission of the author(s) involved, except in the case
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of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution.
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Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
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========================================================================
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Editorial
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by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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<ornoth@shore.net>
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I'm always surprised that people read DargonZine.
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Every six to eight weeks, we publish another ten to fifteen
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thousand words of prose. While that may not seem like much to a
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voracious reader, most of us would balk at the idea of sitting at a
|
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computer and reading 80 KB worth of undifferentiated text. Yet five to
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ten times per year, that's precisely what we expect of you, the reader.
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|
The problem is that the computer is one of the most difficult
|
|
places to read large quantities of text. It's been documented that the
|
|
average attention span of most individuals at a computer is less than
|
|
three pages of text. Why is it that a person may look forward to
|
|
curling up with a good book and reading fifty or a hundred pages, but
|
|
that same person may be put off by a five-page computer printout or a
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Web page that's more than one screen long? The answer comes from the
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|
arts of ergonomics, typography, layout, and graphic design.
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|
Computers themselves usually require a desktop environment, and the
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posture required while sitting at a desk is more fatiguing than lying on
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the couch with a drink and a paperback. The hum and radiation which
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emanates from a CRT, as well as the ubiquitous fluorescent lighting of
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the modern office also contribute to fatigue, particularly of the eyes.
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And furthermore, we're used to thinking of a computer as an interactive
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machine which does tasks for us, and having to sit and stare at a screen
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without doing anything conflicts with that expectation.
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|
As if that wasn't enough, text editors, Web browsers, and computer
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printers all impose significant constraints on the presentation of
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textual material. In many cases, computer programs still are unable to
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|
perform basic operations such as proportional spacing of fonts, which
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|
adds immeasurably to readability. And those programs which support
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proportional fonts often limit their options to one common font (i.e.
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Times New Roman) in hopes that it will meet the needs of the broadest
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audience. While not widely realized, line length also plays a very
|
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significant role in readability. Ideally, a line of text shouldn't
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extend much beyond fifteen words at most, yet Web browsers will gladly
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stuff as many words per line as will fit, regardless of how difficult
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this makes the reader's task.
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I must admit that we've come a hell of a long way from the early
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days, when fixed-width ASCII text was our only display option. But we've
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got a long way to go before the online experience will have the gloss
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and slickness of magazines, or the friendly ease of use of a paperback
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book.
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That's why it surprises me that people read DargonZine. No matter
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how it's formatted, reading a lot of text on a computer screen is *hard
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work*! And I'm sure that reading my editorials is even more difficult!
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Another thing that surprises me is that both of the next two issues
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will each contain four stories! We've only had three four-story issues
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since the beginning of 1991, but with a recent influx of new authors and
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a general rousing of the Old Ones, we're getting more writing done than
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ever.
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This issue begins with a vignette of sorts, Max Khaytsus' "Rats!",
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which is something of an intellectual exercise and something of an
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inside joke. But I'll divulge no more than that, lest my introduction
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grow larger than the whole story!
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That is followed by Carlo Samson's second chapter in "Ruthless
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Revelry", which first appeared in DargonZine 9-4.
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And following that, Mark Murray picks up his storyline of Raphael
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and Megan and Loth in part one of "Shattered Love".
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And, finally, we have the first story in our new "Deep Woods Inn"
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series: Max Khaytsus' "Night One". This will, of course, be followed by
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additional stories in this new series. As you can see from this issue,
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after a two-year hiatus, Max is back!
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And as if this weren't enough, be on watch for DargonZine 10-3,
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which we hope to distribute within four to six weeks!
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========================================================================
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Rats!
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by Max Khaytsus
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<khaytsus@cs.colorado.edu>
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Sy 20, 1014
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Once seldom seen, but now permitted to grow unchecked by the
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absenteeism of their natural enemy, wolves, which not long ago thrived
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in this area, but were recently brutally hunted to near complete
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extinction, although many of the ferocious beasts still roamed the
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surrounding forests, due to their threat to the general populace of the
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Duchy, by the order of the Duke of Dargon, who was gravely injured and
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mutilated aboard his warship in a major sea battle, off the coast of
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Sharks' Cove, in the Beinison-Baranur War, from which he just returned,
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an overpopulation of large grey-brown rats, which are extremely dirty
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and spread deadly disease to many otherwise healthy people, rapidly
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overran the once remote, although powerful and prosperous, but now
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economically hurt, seaside frontier town of Dargon in northern Baranur,
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destroying many wood buildings and structures and getting into the
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already overtaxed grain supplies, bringing a new disaster to the city,
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to top off the not yet forgotten early summer surprise invasion, by a
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sizable portion of the mighty Beinison fleet, which had cut short the
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annual Melrin festival, and the agonizing struggle for power, marked by
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much back-stabbing and cheating, inside the local underground
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organization, both of which cost hundreds of otherwise innocent people
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their lives, and destroyed great portions of the once beautiful city, so
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that reconstruction both of the damaged buildings and collapsed portions
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of the once powerful town wall would go on for years to come, leaving
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the city mostly unprotected from bandits and brigands and wild animals,
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which may help control the rapidly expanding rat population, if allowed
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to enter the town, unless the already stretched to the limit town guard
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dedicates a greater number of people to patrolling the lands beyond the
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town of Dargon and watching the damaged portion of the wall for
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unwelcome intruders, human and beast alike.
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========================================================================
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Ruthless Revelry
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Part 2
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by Carlo N. Samson
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<macgyver@interaccess.com>
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Yuli 4-5, 1015
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Part 1 of this story was printed in DargonZine 9-4
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The Story So Far:
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Christabel, a serving girl working at the Orb & Claw tavern in
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the riverside town of Bannon's Landing, goes with a young man named
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Trevin to a traveling show that has recently come to town. She
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meets his friends Joya (the daughter of a wealthy merchant), Giles
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(Joya's fiancee), Linc (son of the captain of the town guard) and
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Kharsti (Linc's half-sister).
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The traveling troupe is led by a man named Rushike, and the
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show's magical illuminations are provided by Arwenna Prysm, a young
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illusionist. The acts are performed outside of a great tent, and at
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the conclusion of the show some of the audience members (including
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Christabel and the others) pay to see the troupe's secret main
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attraction, carefully guarded inside.
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An iron cage dominates the interior of the tent, and soon the
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great secret is revealed to be a huge man-like beast called the
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Kushago. First, a warrior named Darion fights the beast, which is
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kept under control by a pain-inflicting collar. Next, the Kushago
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is attacked by four magically-generated wolves. The crowd is caught
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up in the violent spectacle, but Christabel is horrified and flees
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the tent. Trevin comes out to comfort her, and when the others
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arrive they all decide to head a nearby tavern for a drink.
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The sky was beginning to darken as the group strolled back into
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town. Christabel walked arm-in-arm with Trevin, but barely registered
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his presence; she shuddered as she recalled the beast's roars of pain,
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and huddled against the young man. Trevin looked over at her and
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caressed her hand. Christabel glanced away, embarrassed that he had
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noticed how upset she was.
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The group stopped suddenly. Looking up, Christabel saw that they
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had arrived at a tavern called the White Rat. The sign hanging above the
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door depicted the namesake rodent floating merrily on the froth of an
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overflowing tankard.
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"Oh please, not this dung pile!" Joya said with a pout. Linc turned
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and sneered at the small blond girl. "Did you think we were going to the
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White *Rose*?" He chuckled derisively.
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"Giles, say something!" Joya said with a little stamp of her foot.
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Her fiancee gave a weak shrug. "It's only for one drink, sweetest."
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"No!" Joya said firmly, her voice rising to a squeak. She fixed
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Giles with a dire stare; after a moment, the young man looked around
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imploringly at the others. Trevin gave a slight chuckle and suggested
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that they all go to his parents' house instead. Everyone, including
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Joya, agreed.
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The group hired a carriage. As they rode along, the men continued
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discussing the show, while Kharsti and Joya exchanged gossip about
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mutual friends. Christabel wondered what the two girls thought of the
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beast's treatment; she had not noticed their reactions during the show,
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and none of the men had asked their opinions. She hoped they might be
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willing to help her do something about the Kushago's situation. But
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precisely what -- if anything! -- they could do was beyond her, at least
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for the moment.
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A little while later they disembarked in front of a small manor
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house located at the edge of the town's business district. A servant met
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them at the door and ushered them into the great room. Since it was now
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dark outside, illumination was provided by candles and oil lamps set on
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waist-high wooden stands. Christabel looked longingly at the
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finely-carved wooden furniture, the lush draperies, and the
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silver-framed portraits that decorated the room. Trevin's family was
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clearly well-off, if not actually wealthy. And if Joya's family was even
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more prosperous than Trevin's ... Christabel felt a twinge of envy that
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called to mind a familiar daydream in which she was the wife of a rich
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nobleman, and lived in a lavishly furnished keep overlooking the ocean.
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Her reverie was interrupted a few moments later as a fair-haired
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woman in a wide-sleeved white dress entered the room, followed by a
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short, bearded man wearing brown trousers and a muslin work shirt.
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Trevin took Christabel's hand and introduced her to his parents, Alysia
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and Terek Dulaine.
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"Ah ... so this is the fair young Christabel," Alysia said with a
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broad, dreamy smile. "So pleased to meet you, dear girl. My son, as you
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might expect, has often spoken of your sweetness and charm." At this,
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Trevin gave an exaggerated cough and looked pointedly at his mother, who
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suppressed a laugh but said nothing more.
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Trevin's father seemed distracted as he greeted Christabel. Almost
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before she had straightened up from her bow, he turned to Trevin and
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exclaimed, "Come in to the workshop! I believe I've got the flavor we've
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been looking for." He made to usher his son out of the room, but Alysia
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exclaimed, "Terek! We do have guests, surely you realize."
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"Oh yes, of course," Trevin's father replied, nodding vigorously.
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"We'll bring samples for everyone." He strode out of the room; Trevin
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motioned to Giles and Linc, and the three of them quickly followed.
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Alysia told the girls to be seated, and ordered the servant
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standing by the doorway to fetch them something to eat from the kitchen.
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Christabel tentatively sat down at one end of a plush divan that faced
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the fireplace; Kharsti sprawled out at the other end, and Joya sat
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primly between them. Alysia reclined in a padded chair set at an angle
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to the divan and said to Christabel, "My husband is brewing a new ale
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that he says will be the most popular in all of Baranur! As if his wine
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trade wasn't enough." She leaned forward. "Ah, but I'm sure you'd know
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nearly as much about wines and ales ... what is the name of the tavern
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you work at? Trevin mentioned it several times. The Dragon's Jaw?"
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Joya giggled. "The Orb and Claw, Mrs. Dulaine!" The small blond
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girl surreptitiously made a sipping gesture to Christabel.
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"Ah yes, thank you Joya," said Alysia, casting her a look of faint
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amusement. "So, how have you been? And you, Kharsti? I haven't seen you
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girls in quite a while."
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The tall girl snorted. "Not since Melrin's End, which was -- what,
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last week?" In response, Trevin's mother gave a brittle laugh. "Sharp as
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a blade, as always," she said. Just then, the servant returned with a
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platter of cheese and bread, already sliced. When each of them had taken
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what they wished, he retreated to the far wall with the platter still in
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hand.
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Leaning back into the chair, Alysia sighed and nibbled at her
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cheese. "So then, my dears ... tell me about this traveling troupe! Was
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it very entertaining?"
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Kharsti and Joya took turns describing the show. They both spoke
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with great delight about the juggling, the acrobats, and the magic
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illuminations. Concerning the Kushago, Kharsti gave a detailed account
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of its fights with the warrior and the wolves. When she described how
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the beast ripped off the head of one wolf, Christabel shuddered and put
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her hand to her mouth. Alysia noticed this and asked, "You didn't find
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that entertaining?"
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Christabel swallowed and replied, "No, not at all, ma'am. It was
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--" she darted a glance at the other girls "-- the most horrible thing I
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had ever seen!"
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Joya wrinkled her nose. "Christabel's very sensitive," she told
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Alysia in a half-whisper.
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Trevin's mother ignored the blonde girl. "It does sound gruesome. I
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would have been sickened, myself ... as any proper lady would have
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been!" This last part seemed directed to Joya and Kharsti.
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Joya sniffed indignantly. "Well, if I had known about that, do you
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think I would have wanted to go? But Giles looked like he enjoyed it, so
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the *least* I could do was stay with him until it was over." She smirked
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openly at Christabel as she finished.
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Kharsti cleared her throat. "Where's that ale?" she muttered.
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Casually flicking a crumb of bread at Joya, the tall girl stated, "Oh,
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it was amusing, but barely so. I mean, there wasn't any real chance of
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death, what with the monster being chained up and controlled like it
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was! And those wolves weren't even real." She made a sound of derision.
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Joya gave her friend a nudge in the ribs. "Oh, and perhaps if they
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had let you into the cage, you would have slain the monster with nothing
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but a brooch-pin!"
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Kharsti nudged Joya back. "Yes, and even shown that warrior boy a
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few moves!" The girls exchanged a few more nudges, then burst out
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laughing.
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Christabel stared at them, stunned and disappointed. She would get
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no help from them, it was clear; and worse yet, they seemed to care
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nothing about the Kushago's obvious suffering. She imagined the two of
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them on a riverbank, giggling as a drowning man cried out for help.
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Joya slapped Kharsti on the knee, and to avoid retaliation lunged
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back into Christabel. The serving girl's restraint finally broke, and
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she blurted out, "It was *not* a monster!"
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The girls' laughter abruptly ceased; they looked at Christabel with
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surprise, while Trevin's mother fixed her with a calm, expectant stare.
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A moment of awkward silence followed; Christabel felt a powerful urge to
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get up and flee from the house, but forced herself to speak. "Couldn't
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you see? It was ... more like a man than --"
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Her words were cut off by Joya and Kharsti's renewed laughter. "Oh,
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it had the right parts for a man," said the tall girl, "but so do the
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apes of the Kaladrongo!"
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"It was more than that," Christabel protested. "Didn't you see how
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it fought? It seemed like it was thinking about what it was doing."
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Kharsti waved dismissively. "Clearly, it was well trained. I would
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bet that the warrior and the monster practice that 'fight' every day."
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Christabel started to reply, but stopped herself. What Kharsti said
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did make sense. After all, the Kushago might indeed be some undiscovered
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form of ape, more manlike in appearance than its jungle counterparts but
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just as beastly. Yet, she still couldn't shake the sense that it was, in
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fact, more intelligent than it seemed.
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At that moment, the men returned to the great room. Linc set a low
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table down in front of the divan, while Trevin and Giles placed a bench
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on the opposite side. Terek put a tray bearing a pitcher and several
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wooden cups onto the table. "A most excellent batch of ale!" he declared
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as he filled the cups. The servant with the cheese and bread came
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forward, served the men, then took his leave.
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"Glad to see you saved some for us!" Kharsti exclaimed, picking up
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a cup and taking a long sip. Terek enjoined the women to do likewise;
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Christabel was not in the mood, but drank anyway out of politeness.
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However, the ale was smooth and not at all bitter, unlike the kind at
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her uncle's tavern.
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"Good, yes?" Trevin's father asked hopefully. The women nodded and
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murmured their approval. Kharsti poured herself another cup, drank
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deeply, and pronounced it the finest ale she had ever tasted. Terek
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beamed, and called for a toast. "I shall name this after my wife," he
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said, raising his cup to Alysia. "It will be called -- Alysian Pale!"
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Trevin, who had come around to Christabel's side of the divan,
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leaned down and whispered to her, "Not to be confused with the Alysian
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Gold wine, or the Alysian mead. He's yet to name one after me!"
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|
"Like, Trevinian Special Brew?" Christabel suggested. Trevin
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paused, as if considering it. "Not bad at all!" He smiled and touched
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his cup to hers.
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The gathering broke up after two more rounds of the new ale. Linc
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and Kharsti departed first, then Joya and Giles. As Trevin went outside
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to hail a carriage for Christabel, Alysia took the young woman aside. "I
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feel I must apologize for the girls," Trevin's mother said, holding
|
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Christabel's hand. She explained that Kharsti was half Lashkirian, and
|
|
as a girl had been a "nezisa" -- an attendant to the desert warrior who
|
|
performed the ritual slaying of a griffin at village festivals. "So you
|
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can understand how the sight of blood isn't exactly new to her. And as
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for Joya ..." Alysia tilted her head and sighed. "You may have noticed
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that she is a little spoiled."
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|
"Indeed," Christabel murmured.
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"They're good girls, really, but I'm certain you'll find that out
|
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for yourself, eventually. Oh yes, one other thing." She glanced around,
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|
then continued in a low voice, "My son clearly likes you very much, and
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I can see that you feel the same way about him. If you wish to keep his
|
|
favor, you might do well to keep any strong opinions you may have to
|
|
yourself."
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|
Christabel's eyebrows rose. "Pardon, but what opinions do you mean,
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|
precisely?"
|
|
Alysia's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Ah, well ... opinions on
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such matters as, for instance, certain entertainments? For, as I'm sure
|
|
you know, it is a woman's duty to support her man in whatever he does
|
|
and enjoys."
|
|
Christabel blinked in surprise. It sounded as if Alysia was giving
|
|
her advice on how to be the perfect wife for Trevin, even though this
|
|
was the first time they had spent any time together! And was his mother
|
|
always in the habit of dispensing advice to people she had just met --
|
|
especially stupid advice? Christabel had never believed that a woman's
|
|
opinion was any less important than her husband's, and was certainly not
|
|
going to change that belief on the suggestion of a woman who thought
|
|
otherwise.
|
|
Trevin returned a few moments later and announced that the carriage
|
|
had arrived. Christabel thanked Alysia and Terek for their hospitality,
|
|
then went outside with Trevin, who rode with her back to the Orb and
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Claw tavern.
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|
"I hope I can see you again sometime," the young man said as he
|
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helped Christabel down from the carriage.
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|
"You know where you can find me," she replied, inclining her head
|
|
toward the tavern.
|
|
"Of course, but I meant, well ..." He moved closer to her, clearly
|
|
making to kiss her. Christabel waited until his face was almost touching
|
|
hers, then quickly hugged him and stepped back. "Thank you again for a
|
|
most pleasant evening," she said, then turned and walked to the tavern
|
|
entrance. At the door, she looked back and saw Trevin climb into the
|
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carriage. She waited until it had gone, then sighed heavily and went
|
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inside.
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|
|
The tavern was empty, despite there being two more bells until the
|
|
last call. Sheela looked up from wiping off the bar. "Oh, you're back!"
|
|
She hurried over to Christabel. "So? Well? Tell me everything!"
|
|
"There's a lot to tell, believe me." Christabel smiled faintly.
|
|
"You saw what happened outside, didn't you?"
|
|
Sheela looked at her with mock innocence. "You mean, when you
|
|
avoided Trevin's lips like a priest avoids pleasure? I saw nothing like
|
|
that at all!"
|
|
Christabel grinned wanly, then started upstairs. Sheela stopped
|
|
her, however, and pointed to the kitchen.
|
|
"Uncle Fergus again?" Christabel asked. Sheela nodded and said,
|
|
"I'll close up, then wait for you in our room. There's hardly been
|
|
anybody in this evening."
|
|
With a rueful shake of her head, Christabel quietly made her way
|
|
behind the bar and into the kitchen. Fergus sat sprawled out on a stool
|
|
by the table: head back, mouth open, and eyes closed. Underneath the
|
|
stool were a couple of empty bottles. The large man clutched another
|
|
bottle in one hand, and a small pouch in the other. The smell of ale
|
|
hung heavy in the room.
|
|
Christabel looked at her uncle with sadness and pity. He only drank
|
|
like this when he felt particularly woeful, a condition which seemed to
|
|
occur more often as time passed. If business was slow, the girls usually
|
|
closed the tavern early whenever he got like that. The young woman went
|
|
over to Fergus and shook him gently. It took a few moments of firmer
|
|
shaking to cause the large man to stir and open his eyes.
|
|
"Er, hullo, Chrissabell," he muttered groggily, releasing his hold
|
|
on the bottle. "'Bout time ye were home ... where's ma stick?"
|
|
Christabel retrieved his walking stick from where it had fallen,
|
|
and helped her uncle to his feet. He tried to wave her off, but that
|
|
only caused him to wobble. He braced himself with the walking stick, but
|
|
made no further protest as Christabel guided him up to his room. As they
|
|
ascended the stairs, the large man muttered, "Did ye know, Chrissabell,
|
|
that me and yer mother used to see the travelin' faire every time it
|
|
came by?" He sniffled. "She truly loved the jugglers ..."
|
|
"I know," Christabel replied softly. When they reached his room,
|
|
she helped him into bed, and very shortly he was snoring loudly. Before
|
|
she left, Christabel took the pouch from Fergus's unresisting fingers.
|
|
It contained, she knew, a golden locket which held a snippet of her
|
|
mother's hair. With a heavy heart, she returned it to a small wooden box
|
|
on the nightstand. The locket was a birthday gift her mother had given
|
|
to Fergus -- the last gift she had given him before she died.
|
|
|
|
Sheela listened in rapt attention as Christabel related the events
|
|
of the evening. The candles on the table in their small bedroom were a
|
|
thumb's length shorter by the time she finished.
|
|
"Stevene's grace, Chrissa!" exclaimed Sheela, shifting to a more
|
|
comfortable position on her bed. "You had yourself quite a night there,
|
|
it sounds like. Almost makes me wish that *I'd* winked at Trevin once or
|
|
twice." The girls laughed. They talked for a bit more about the
|
|
ale-tasting at Trevin's house, then the conversation returned to the
|
|
traveling show.
|
|
"Now *that's* something I wish I'd seen," said Sheela. "That
|
|
Kashaggy animal must've been a wonder!"
|
|
Christabel, sitting cross-legged on the opposite bed, shook her
|
|
head emphatically. "Kushago. And you wouldn't have liked it, either. I
|
|
can't believe that sort of -- entertainment -- is allowed!"
|
|
"But people do that to animals all the time, like in cockfights,
|
|
for instance. And dog fights."
|
|
Ranulf crawled out from under the bed and sprang lightly into
|
|
Christabel's lap. She looked down at the gray cat and stroked his head.
|
|
"And are cat drownings just as amusing? Listen, Sheela, I believe that
|
|
what they are doing to the Kushago is wrong. I think we should try to do
|
|
something about it."
|
|
The blond serving girl stared thoughtfully at the cat for several
|
|
moments. Finally she said, "For truth, Chrissa, what can the pair of us
|
|
do? Go in like the Royal Brigade and force them to let the animal go?
|
|
It'd take nothing short of that, it seems to me."
|
|
"It sounds to *me* like you don't care, either," Christabel replied
|
|
curtly.
|
|
"Stevene's teeth, girl, I don't mean it like that. But if people
|
|
liked the show as much as you described, and if you don't think your new
|
|
friends would blink an eye to help you, then I simply don't see what
|
|
difference a pair of mousy little tavern girls like us could make!"
|
|
Frowning, Christabel shifted the cat out of her lap and went over
|
|
to the candles. She turned back and looked at her friend. "So we might
|
|
as well not even try, then? Perhaps we're even *less* than mice?" She
|
|
sighed and folded her arms. Doubt began creeping into her mind, along
|
|
with fatigue. She blew out the candles, yawned heavily, and fell into
|
|
bed without another word.
|
|
|
|
Troubling dreams visited her in the night. Roars, snarls, and
|
|
screams echoed in the misty blackness. Suddenly, she saw herself
|
|
standing with Trevin and his friends in a circle of light, in front of
|
|
an iron fence that seemed impossibly high and endlessly long. Beyond the
|
|
fence was darkness, and she felt a surge of fear and despair when she
|
|
looked upon it, like she was being forced to enter a dark room that
|
|
contained a dead body somewhere within.
|
|
The group began laughing and jeering; Christabel found it horribly
|
|
offensive. Then they began throwing apples through the fence at the
|
|
darkness. Trevin turned to her, his expression blank. A moment later, he
|
|
broke into a wide grin and bit into a perfectly-formed red apple. The
|
|
young man handed it to her, and gestured for her to throw it.
|
|
Christabel's fingers closed over the bitten fruit. She stared down
|
|
at it as if she had never seen an apple before. Looking up, she saw that
|
|
the group was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to throw it.
|
|
She hesitated -- then found herself on the other side of the fence!
|
|
Trevin and the others now wore expressions of hostility, and they
|
|
jeered at her with enthusiasm. The darkness behind her was a cold, solid
|
|
thing that filled her with dread and sorrow. She still held the apple,
|
|
and knew she should do something with it -- but what?
|
|
The next moment, Christabel saw that the five youths stood around a
|
|
huge catapult, the basket of which was filled to the brim with apples.
|
|
She didn't see who pulled the release lever, but a heartbeat later the
|
|
catapult arm shot forward and flung the apples toward her at a
|
|
frightening speed. Christabel screamed, threw her arms up to shield
|
|
herself --
|
|
And abruptly jerked awake.
|
|
|
|
Heart pounding, Christabel silently made her way down the hall. She
|
|
crept past Fergus's room, and was relieved to hear him snoring. It was
|
|
early morning, and Sheela had not yet awakened either. Christabel had
|
|
lain in bed for a while after waking up from the dream, and mulled over
|
|
the images until she heard the town bell toll the time. Upon hearing the
|
|
sound, Christabel had gotten out of bed and dressed as quietly as
|
|
possible. Today she was going to act on her resolve to free the Kushago.
|
|
She had no plan, but knew that if she didn't get up and out, the
|
|
inspiration would pass and she would end up doing nothing. Somehow, that
|
|
thought made her feel guilty.
|
|
Each creak in the stairs seemed to sound as loud as a scream, but
|
|
Christabel made it down without waking anybody. As she paused in the
|
|
kitchen for a quick breakfast, an idea occurred to her. She went to a
|
|
shelf near the door and got down the writing slate that an out-of-work
|
|
scribe had persuaded Fergus to accept in payment of a drink debt. With a
|
|
piece of thick chalk she wrote her name and the word "market" upon it,
|
|
and left it on the table in plain view. Now she had a ready explanation
|
|
for being gone.
|
|
Once outside the tavern, the young woman hesitated. The air was
|
|
fresh with the smell of morning dew, and the sky was perfectly clear.
|
|
People were already going about their daily business, and one man who
|
|
passed her inquired if the tavern was open already.
|
|
Christabel shook her head, then struck off in a random direction.
|
|
Just what was she going to do, anyway? Wander about and hope the whole
|
|
problem would go away by itself? She silently cursed herself for her
|
|
impulsive decision.
|
|
After a few menes of walking, she passed by a baker's shop. The
|
|
delicious smell of freshly-baked bread caused her to slow down and
|
|
consider going inside to buy a piece. A poster on the wall by the door
|
|
caught her eye; she saw that it advertised Rushike's traveling troupe. A
|
|
wave of anger rose within her and she almost ripped down the sign, but a
|
|
line near the bottom stopped her: it read "His Royal Majesty, King
|
|
Haralan, Commands That All Citizens Attend This Show and Be Greatly
|
|
Amused."
|
|
Christabel doubted if the King had ever seen the show, or if he
|
|
would even approve of his name being used in connection with such a
|
|
ruthless revelry. She wished that he would suddenly appear in front of
|
|
her, so that she might persuade him to personally order Rushike to
|
|
release the Kushago.
|
|
The young woman started to continue on, but a sudden thought halted
|
|
her. The King wasn't the only one with such authority! With a renewed
|
|
sense of purpose, Christabel turned her nose up at the poster and
|
|
sprinted away.
|
|
|
|
Christabel made her way north. She crossed a bridge over the Laraka
|
|
River, wound through the streets of the Founders' District, and soon
|
|
came in sight of the town hall of Bannon's Landing. She had remembered
|
|
that Mayor Bremis usually heard public business for a few bells each
|
|
morning in his office (a practice established by previous mayors), and
|
|
she was early enough that she could get an audience.
|
|
A few menes later, Christabel arrived in the square surrounding the
|
|
town hall. She joined the line of people leading into the building, and
|
|
soon found herself at the doorway, where a bored-looking town guardsman
|
|
asked for her name and what her business was. He had asked the same
|
|
question of everybody before her, so she had her response ready. "My
|
|
name is Christabel Montegarde, and I wish to ask the mayor to stop the
|
|
owner of the traveling troupe that is currently in Bannon's Field from
|
|
mistreating one of his performing animals."
|
|
The guardsman nodded abstractedly, then told her how to find the
|
|
mayor's office. Christabel followed his directions, and came to a large
|
|
wood-paneled chamber in which other people waited. At the entrance, a
|
|
short, stern-faced man asked her the same questions the town guard had
|
|
asked. She gave the same answers. The official noted down the
|
|
information, then gave a sharp snort. Christabel glared at him; he
|
|
stared contemptuously back at her for a moment, then motioned for her to
|
|
take a seat on one of the wooden benches that lined the walls.
|
|
Several menes later, the double doors at the far end of the chamber
|
|
opened, and two men -- merchants, by the way they were dressed -- came
|
|
out. One man smiled broadly and clutched a rolled-up parchment; the
|
|
other had an air of dejection about him. After the men came another town
|
|
guard, a dark-haired woman this time. She ushered the merchants out of
|
|
the chamber, then went over to the official minding the door. She spoke
|
|
briefly with him, then accepted a sheet of parchment. She read off a
|
|
name; an elderly man answered, and she motioned for him to follow her
|
|
through the double doors, which no doubt led to the mayor's office.
|
|
Christabel waited anxiously as townspeople entered and left the
|
|
office. She rehearsed her request over and over in her mind, but each
|
|
time it sounded more and more foolish, until her resolve began to waver.
|
|
She was near the point of getting up to leave, when the doors opened and
|
|
the female guard called her name. Startled, Christabel jumped to her
|
|
feet and exchanged a glance with the person who had just left the
|
|
mayor's office.
|
|
"Come in, please," the female guard said. As soon as Christabel had
|
|
entered the room, the woman closed the doors behind them and stood off
|
|
to one side.
|
|
The office of Mayor Bremis was small but well-furnished. Large
|
|
tapestries on the walls alternated with portraits of previous mayors,
|
|
and display cases to either side of the door housed a collection of
|
|
small stone figurines.
|
|
The mayor himself sat behind a heavy wooden desk at the back of the
|
|
room. His hair was beginning to gray at the temples, but the insightful
|
|
gaze from his ice-blue eyes showed that he was in no hurry to retire.
|
|
"Christabel Montegarde?" he queried, looking up from a stack of
|
|
papers. The young woman nodded, then came forward. The mayor smiled, and
|
|
bade her sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. When she had
|
|
done so, he leaned back and said, "My son was at the performance last
|
|
night. He told me that, without any exaggeration, it was the most
|
|
exciting thing he had ever seen. The jugglers and acrobats were fine, he
|
|
said, but the --" he glanced down at his desk "-- Kushago beastie was
|
|
the high point of the show." The mayor leaned forward. "But you think it
|
|
should be closed down?"
|
|
Mustering her courage, Christabel cleared her throat and replied,
|
|
"Not closed down, sir. I was there as well, and I am only saying that
|
|
the Kushago should not be attacked and tortured for sport. It is ...
|
|
inhumane."
|
|
Mayor Bremis nodded slowly. "And you would like me to order the
|
|
troupe master to stop exhibiting the beastie, is that correct?"
|
|
Christabel answered affirmatively.
|
|
"But now that word has spread," continued the mayor, "more people
|
|
will be wanting to see this frightening creature. However, if the
|
|
Kushago is no longer available to be seen, the show as a whole would
|
|
certainly suffer. Which would, I'm sure you understand, be rather much
|
|
the same thing as closing it down."
|
|
"But sir," Christabel protested, "it isn't right what they're doing
|
|
to it. If you saw for yourself -- "
|
|
"Yes, as a matter of fact I did," the mayor interrupted smoothly.
|
|
"I saw the beastie when they first arrived in town, and I gave my
|
|
approval of the exhibition." He gave her a patronizing smile, then said,
|
|
"Besides, it's just an unthinking animal."
|
|
Christabel was momentarily speechless. Was everybody in this town
|
|
so heartless? "The Kushago is *not* just another animal to be used for
|
|
sport!" she half-shouted, almost rising from her chair. Out of the
|
|
corner of her eye, she saw the female guard start to move forward. The
|
|
mayor gave a slight shake of his head, and the woman relaxed.
|
|
"Miss Montegarde," said the mayor, "I have no intention of stopping
|
|
the troupe master from showing the Kushago. It means good business for
|
|
the town, not that I expect you to understand why. So, if that's all you
|
|
came to say ..." His look plainly indicated that he expected her to
|
|
leave.
|
|
Christabel's heart sank, but she did not get up. "Please, Mayor
|
|
Bremis, you can't allow this to continue! Don't you have --"
|
|
"Lieutenant, please send in the next person. Pleasant day, Miss
|
|
Montegarde." The mayor looked down at his papers.
|
|
|
|
Once back in the waiting chamber, Christabel was at a loss as to
|
|
what to do next. The mayor had not taken her seriously, and there was no
|
|
one left to appeal to. Maybe Sheela was right, after all.
|
|
Sighing, she walked out of the chamber and into the hallway.
|
|
Someone called her name; she looked up and saw that it was Trevin.
|
|
"Christabel! I didn't expect to see you here," he said. "Are you
|
|
waiting for someone?"
|
|
"Oh, um, no, I'm by myself," the young woman replied guardedly,
|
|
desperately trying to think up a reason for being at the town hall. To
|
|
gain time, she said, "I'm sorry if I seemed a little ... not myself,
|
|
last night."
|
|
"I understand, don't worry," said Trevin. "I do hope that you're
|
|
feeling better."
|
|
Christabel nodded. "Well, I have to get home now. Thank you again
|
|
for taking me out last night." She started to leave, but Trevin asked
|
|
her to wait a moment. "I was going to tell you that my father was so
|
|
excited about his new ale that he's planning to have a party tomorrow
|
|
night to introduce it. He's inviting the mayor --" Trevin held up a
|
|
sealed envelope "-- and my mother said that I could invite you as well.
|
|
It's going to be at Joya's house. Would you like to go?"
|
|
"Oh," Christabel murmured. She glanced down and tugged at her ear,
|
|
unsure how to reply. On the one hand, attending the party meant that she
|
|
would finally receive the increase in social standing that an
|
|
association with Joya's family always conferred. But could she really
|
|
associate with them now, knowing how little they valued the lives of
|
|
animals -- and by extension, anything they considered beneath them?
|
|
"Christabel?" Trevin queried, lightly touching her cheek. The young
|
|
woman flashed him an apologetic grin, then took a deep breath before
|
|
replying, "Yes. I would like that, very much."
|
|
As Trevin smiled and expressed his delight at the young woman's
|
|
acceptance, part of Christabel's mind screamed at her for making that
|
|
decision. She silenced her self-criticism by reasoning that if she were
|
|
accepted into Trevin's social circle, she would do whatever was possible
|
|
to influence their way of thinking.
|
|
"Let me just deliver this invitation," said Trevin, "and I'll take
|
|
you home." Christabel nodded and followed him back to the mayor's
|
|
waiting chamber, relieved that he hadn't yet asked about her business at
|
|
the town hall.
|
|
The stern-faced official grumbled under his breath, but accepted
|
|
the invitation and promised to deliver it to the mayor. Upon catching
|
|
sight of Christabel, the man pointed his quill at her and asked, "Are
|
|
you a friend of the beast lover?"
|
|
"Beast lover?" Trevin looked at Christabel with a slight frown. The
|
|
official told him about her audience with the mayor, then added, "I've
|
|
yet to see the creature myself, and she wants the whole show closed
|
|
down!"
|
|
"Is this true?" Trevin asked, guiding her out of the official's
|
|
hearing. Reluctantly, Christabel admitted that she had in fact been in
|
|
to see the mayor, but only to persuade him to stop the Kushago
|
|
exhibition.
|
|
"But why?" The young man looked at her in bewilderment. "I know
|
|
that you were upset by what you saw, but why see the mayor about it?"
|
|
"Because it's so *wrong* for it to be used as entertainment! Why
|
|
can't you understand that?"
|
|
Trevin exhaled loudly. "What I can't understand," he said slowly,
|
|
"is what makes *you* think you have the right to determine what is and
|
|
is not entertainment." He paused and fixed her with a hard stare. "Now,
|
|
my father and I are going to see the show tonight. He's very excited
|
|
about it, and I don't want him to be disappointed. Will you promise me
|
|
that you won't try to stir up any trouble?"
|
|
On the verge of tears, Christabel could barely nod. Trevin's
|
|
expression softened, and he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.
|
|
She flinched away from his touch, then ran out of the building, sobbing
|
|
angrily.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Shattered Love
|
|
Part I
|
|
by Mark A. Murray
|
|
<mmurray@weir.net>
|
|
Dargon, Sy 1015
|
|
|
|
What Has Gone Before:
|
|
|
|
Raphael, accompanied by a cloaked figure, entered Dargon for
|
|
the first time. He was stopped by a young shadow boy gathered his
|
|
courage in hopes of making some money. Raphael hired the boy,
|
|
Lylle, as a guide. Lylle showed Raphael to the places that he
|
|
wanted to go, and in doing so, learned more about the cloaked
|
|
figure. Her name was Megan and she was under a curse. Raphael was
|
|
searching for a cure to end the curse.
|
|
Not finding a cure in Dargon, Raphael travelled south through
|
|
the forest, not knowing where to go next. He stumbled upon a wolf
|
|
cub whose mother had been killed. While deciding what to do about
|
|
the cub, he turned to discover that Megan had moved and the wolf
|
|
cub was at her feet. The decision had been made for him; he would
|
|
take the cub with him. He named the cub, Anam.
|
|
Travelling on, he found a small cabin in a clearing. Inside
|
|
was an old mage who, for a very short time, lifted the curse on
|
|
Megan. The two were reunited for a few brief moments. The mage told
|
|
Raphael that only by killing the one's responsible for the curse,
|
|
could he lift it. That meant killing Kell, Loth, or both. As Kell
|
|
had been his best friend, he didn't know if he could do that.
|
|
Raphael decided to return to Dargon where he could either take
|
|
a boat home or a boat to Magnus. Home meant Kell and Loth, while
|
|
Magnus may have held a cure. His decision was once again decided
|
|
for him when he stumbled upon Kell and Loth. Loth tried to kill him
|
|
and Kell saved his life with his own. Loth escaped while Kell died
|
|
in his arms. Raphael returned to the inn where he had left Megan to
|
|
find that she was still under the curse.
|
|
The enduring years of caring for her and searching for a cure
|
|
had worn him down. The death of Kell in his arms had broken his
|
|
resolve, and the still cursed Megan had crushed all hope inside
|
|
him. His mind could not and did not withstand the tumult. The story
|
|
begins here where Raphael teeters on the brink of insanity.
|
|
|
|
Voices cried in his mind. Whispers edged into his thoughts. The
|
|
blackness gave way to an emerald glow. As the glow brightened, it took
|
|
shape. A figure started to emerge from the glow. He watched as the
|
|
figure took a feminine shape. Recognition shocked his senses.
|
|
"Megan!", he cried and reached to touch her. His hand disrupted the
|
|
emerald glow and scattered the light. As darkness closed in, laughter
|
|
erupted around him.
|
|
"She was such a pretty thing," a voice said.
|
|
"Loth! I'll kill you!" Raphael vowed to the darkness. He struggled
|
|
against the dark.
|
|
"... pretty thing," the voice echoed. Rage overtook Raphael and he
|
|
bolted awake. He was in their room at Spirit's Haven. He noticed that
|
|
the candle had burned low and he wondered how long he had been out.
|
|
Megan lay on the bed, and Anam watched him intently.
|
|
"Megan," he whispered, hoping that she would wake, but knowing that
|
|
she would not. The curse still paralyzed her.
|
|
As he stood, blackness claimed him once again, but it wasn't total.
|
|
He saw May standing in front of him.
|
|
"Are you alright?" May asked.
|
|
"Megan?" he asked May. "Where's Megan?"
|
|
"She's in your room," May answered. "Raphael, what's wrong with
|
|
you?"
|
|
"Got to find Loth," he mumbled. May grabbed him and turned him so
|
|
that he was facing her.
|
|
"You need some help," she told him. "I'll send for a healer."
|
|
"No!" he said as he broke free of her arms. "No, I've got to find
|
|
Loth. He's the one. I ..." Blackness closed in as he tried to ask May to
|
|
care for Megan.
|
|
|
|
He felt something strike his foot and the world exploded into his
|
|
eyesight in a myriad of colors. He looked around and found himself
|
|
walking toward the main gates of Dargon City. "I must have tripped," he
|
|
thought. "What am I doing here?" As he tried to remember how he had
|
|
gotten to where he was, thoughts of Megan, Kell, and Loth surfaced.
|
|
Kell's death replayed itself in his mind and was interrupted by visions
|
|
of Megan on the bed -- her grey eyes staring blankly at him. Throughout
|
|
it all Loth laughed. The world reeled in front of him and blackness
|
|
claimed him once more ...
|
|
|
|
A jolt to his arm caught his attention and Raphael looked to his
|
|
side. A Dargon guard had grabbed him.
|
|
"Are you sick?" the guard asked. "Who are you?"
|
|
Raphael tried to answer, but no sound came from his mouth. He
|
|
didn't remember his name; didn't know who he was. Something stirred in
|
|
the back of his mind as he tried to remember his name. A name finally
|
|
came to him -- Megan. He didn't recognize it, and knew that it wasn't
|
|
his name.
|
|
"Megan?" he said aloud. The sound of her name triggered his
|
|
memories. They rushed into his mind and he couldn't hold them back. His
|
|
hands went to his head and he screamed. Blackness was a welcome friend
|
|
...
|
|
|
|
He was floating. Floating in a world of black. In the blackness, he
|
|
knew there were doorways to other places. For now, he was content to
|
|
float. It was a pleasant place this black world. He was floating calmly
|
|
when his world changed. Small pinpoints of light started to suck his
|
|
blackness away. The lights showed him the doorways in his once black
|
|
world.
|
|
"No!" he screamed. "I don't want to see! I don't want to know! Go
|
|
away!" The stars shone ever brighter. He heard a bird cry in the night
|
|
and knew that he would have to choose a doorway soon. A small part of
|
|
his sanity helped to clear his mind. Reality was fast approaching and if
|
|
he didn't choose, he felt that he would be lost forever. He saw the
|
|
doorways and found that there were labels on the doors. He read the
|
|
labels as he walked past the doors. Kell -- that had been his best
|
|
friend. Loth -- no, he wouldn't go through that door. Life -- something
|
|
told him that it wasn't the right door either. He walked past many doors
|
|
labeled with the names of family, friends, places, and events in his
|
|
life. None felt right to him. He didn't know how many doors he had
|
|
passed or what he was looking for, but he searched on.
|
|
As he moved from door to door, he caught sight of something
|
|
approaching him. It was a small animal and was running toward him. He
|
|
didn't know whether to run or stay. As the animal, a wolf as best he
|
|
could tell, approached, it jogged a memory inside him. He knew this
|
|
wolf.
|
|
"Anam?" he asked aloud when he remembered. "Anam?" he asked again
|
|
when the wolf stopped in front of him. It was no small animal now, but
|
|
rather a very large wolf. "Is that you, Anam?" he asked. The wolf's ears
|
|
twitched and its tail drooped as it licked Raphael in the face.
|
|
"Is this how you're going to be when you grow up?" Raphael asked.
|
|
Anam turned and started off. "Where are you going?" Raphael asked. Anam
|
|
stopped, looked back for an instant, and then moved on again. Raphael
|
|
followed and they made their way amongst the myriad of doorways.
|
|
Anam finally stopped and sat at a doorway. When Raphael caught up
|
|
to him, he looked at the name on the doorway -- Megan.
|
|
Megan -- that was it! This was the door! He opened it and found
|
|
nothing but blackness awaiting him. Stepping through the door, he braced
|
|
himself for whatever would happen, except nothing happened. He was in a
|
|
world of black, but turning around, he saw the doorway with Anam sitting
|
|
in it.
|
|
"Where am I?" he asked aloud.
|
|
"In your mind," came an answer behind him. He knew the voice and he
|
|
spun around full of hope. Megan was standing there with her red hair
|
|
cascading around her shoulders, and her eyes shining a bright vibrant
|
|
green. Her red lips, red hair, and green eyes offset her slightly pale
|
|
face. She wore a silk blouse that moved softly in a breeze he could not
|
|
feel.
|
|
"I love you," he said. She smiled and reached out a hand to caress
|
|
his face. Her fingers brushed lightly across his cheek and then settled
|
|
softly against his neck.
|
|
"And I love you," she answered. "I have always loved you. But
|
|
you've pushed and tormented yourself about me for too long. It wasn't
|
|
your fault. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened or for not
|
|
finding a cure or for Kell's death. The blame is not yours, but
|
|
another's."
|
|
"I should have done *something* to stop it," he said.
|
|
"You've done the best that you could do. Let it go. If you don't,
|
|
you won't be any help to anyone, anymore," she told him. She brought her
|
|
other hand up to his face, leaned forward, and kissed him. Her lips
|
|
touched his softly and he kissed her back. He could smell her perfume
|
|
and feel her body against him as he drew her closer and hugged her
|
|
tight. He had missed her far more than he would have guessed.
|
|
"Are you real?" he whispered in her ear. She pulled back from him
|
|
and he saw that tears were streaming down her cheek.
|
|
"Are these real?" she asked. He reached out and wiped the tears
|
|
from her face.
|
|
"Yes," he said.
|
|
"I ... I can't stay much longer," she said.
|
|
"What ..."
|
|
"Shhhh," she said placing her fingers on his lips. "I just know
|
|
that I must go soon."
|
|
"I don't want to lose you."
|
|
"Have I not always been by your side?" she asked. "I am cursed from
|
|
action, but I still see all that happens around me. I have watched as
|
|
you have cared for me, protected me, and searched the kingdoms for a
|
|
cure ..." Megan's tears started streaming down her face again. A light
|
|
from somewhere reflected her bright green eyes through her tears, and
|
|
facets of green washed over him.
|
|
"Please don't lose hope," she told him as she started to fade away.
|
|
"And remember that I will always love you!"
|
|
"No!" he said as he reached out to grab her, but the blackness
|
|
closed in and he fell through it to land solidly on something.
|
|
Everything was still black and he realized that his eyes were closed.
|
|
Opening them, he found himself in a cell.
|
|
He remembered most of everything that had happened in his life up
|
|
to his return to Megan after Kell's death. Things were still hazy after
|
|
that. He suspected that he left Megan in May's care at Spirit's Haven;
|
|
at least he hoped he did. Then there was the wandering in the town. He
|
|
didn't know how long he had roamed the streets, but his stomach told him
|
|
it had been awhile. There was a fight with some of Dargon's guards but
|
|
he couldn't remember what happened. Being in a cell, he hoped that it
|
|
wasn't serious. Relaxing, he let his stomach settle while he sorted his
|
|
thoughts. Still trying to piece together what happened, he fell asleep.
|
|
|
|
"Do you think it's him?" came a voice from somewhere. Raphael
|
|
opened his eyes and saw two men standing near him.
|
|
"Well, he's awake, let's ask him," said the other. "Are you Raphael
|
|
Etrigan?"
|
|
"Who are you," Raphael asked as he woke fully. "What do you want?"
|
|
"I'm Jandis Moor," the older man said, "and this is Kyle Arving.
|
|
We're searching for a man by the name of Raphael Etrigan. You told the
|
|
guards your name was Raphael. Are you Raphael Etrigan?"
|
|
"Guards?" Raphael thought. He vaguely remembered being stopped by a
|
|
Dargon guard. Raphael looked up at the two men. Jandis was an older man
|
|
with greying hair. He was shorter than his companion and a little
|
|
heavier. Kyle was tall and skinny with dark hair and a beard.
|
|
"Yes," he replied. Sitting up, he noticed that he was in a cell.
|
|
"That guard must have arrested me," he thought, wondering just how bad
|
|
his situation was.
|
|
"Good! We've been looking for you for days. You've led us on a
|
|
grand tour of Dargon, you know. Just what were you looking for?" Jandis
|
|
asked. "It's not important right now," he continued abruptly. "We have
|
|
been sent to stop a man by the name of Loth. A message was given to us
|
|
with information and this." Jandis held up a square wooden device that
|
|
Raphael had never seen before. "This device will enable us to track
|
|
Loth, or so I am told. It tracks one person, and once started, it must
|
|
complete that task in a few days. The magic fades rather quickly.
|
|
"I'm blustering on again. The reason we were looking for you is
|
|
that we were commanded to. The message they sent only gave us small bits
|
|
of information, but one of those was that we were to find you. You, it
|
|
would seem, are important to our mission of stopping Loth."
|
|
"You can track Loth?" Raphael asked pushing aside all other
|
|
questions and thinking of vengeance.
|
|
"We were told we could," Kyle answered. "We were told to find you
|
|
first."
|
|
"You've found me," Raphael said. "If you can get me out of here,
|
|
I'll help you with Loth. Why *am* I in here?"
|
|
"The town guard arrested you for being drunk and for disrupting
|
|
people's sleep," Jandis told him. "If you're sober, you're free to go."
|
|
Jandis called to the guard, who upon making sure Raphael was sober,
|
|
let them out. As they were leaving, another guard gave Raphael a cane.
|
|
He didn't remember having it, but it was his cane, so he took it and the
|
|
three of them left the guard house.
|
|
"Open the box, now," Kyle told Jandis.
|
|
"Will you be patient?" Jandis replied.
|
|
"We have him, so let's get this assignment over with. Open the
|
|
box."
|
|
"And if I want to wait until tomorrow? Most of the day is gone, you
|
|
know," Jandis said.
|
|
"I know, I know, but a few bells of searching is better than none
|
|
at all."
|
|
"Loth could be anywhere. He's most likely left Dargon," Jandis
|
|
said.
|
|
"And he could be right around the corner," Kyle replied back.
|
|
Raphael couldn't explain why the sight of them arguing was so
|
|
funny, but the laughter seemed to ease his soul. It had been a long time
|
|
since he had laughed like this. Megan used to make him laugh. He thought
|
|
about those times. Her green eyes would sparkle, her nose would turn up
|
|
slightly as she laughed, and her smile was beautiful. As he thought
|
|
about her and their times together, he realized that there was no pain
|
|
in the remembrance. Standing there, he dragged out as many of his
|
|
memories with her as he could. He would pick at a thread of memory and
|
|
when it started to fade, he would grab at another. She was always the
|
|
center of his thoughts. He watched her move and talk in his mind. She
|
|
slowly faded away as voices replaced her. They were low, quiet masculine
|
|
voices and he recognized them. Jandis and Kyle were whispering.
|
|
"... alright?" Kyle asked.
|
|
"I don't know. He is acting a bit strange," Jandis answered.
|
|
"I'm fine now," Raphael told them, smiling.
|
|
Jandis opened the wooden device. It looked just like a small wooden
|
|
box with a lid. Peering inside, Raphael saw runes written on the inside
|
|
and a small stone in one corner.
|
|
"The stone is the key," Jandis explained. "The runes are written
|
|
for amplifying the stone. Whichever corner the stone is in, is the way
|
|
we must go. Even if I move the box around, the stone stays in the
|
|
direction where we need to go."
|
|
Jandis watched the stone and then set off in the direction it
|
|
pointed. Raphael and Kyle followed.
|
|
"The lovely town of Dargon," Kyle said sarcastically. "We were sent
|
|
to investigate an amulet in Kenna. A small job, really, and then back
|
|
home to Magnus. Now there's a city -- ah, Magnus," Kyle sighed. "Before
|
|
we finished in Kenna, we were told to go to Dargon once everything in
|
|
Kenna was done.
|
|
"'Go to Dargon and find Loth' was the message we received. So, we
|
|
went to Dargon to find Loth, but when we got here we couldn't find him.
|
|
We searched and found nothing. Then another messenger came and gave us
|
|
the box and the new orders to find you. What I'd like to know is why did
|
|
we have to find you first?"
|
|
"I don't know. Maybe it's because I know Loth."
|
|
"What?!" they both asked at the same time and then looked at each
|
|
other. Raphael started to laugh again, but they turned and focused their
|
|
attention on him.
|
|
"I know him. He was my best friend's mentor." Raphael stopped when
|
|
they both gave him confused looks.
|
|
"Let me start at the beginning," Raphael began.
|
|
|
|
"I only had one good friend as a child. His name was Kell and he
|
|
was apprenticed to Loth. What free time we had was spent together as
|
|
much as possible. Even though we were complete opposites -- he was
|
|
learning to be an alchemist and I was learning the art of fighting -- we
|
|
were the best of friends.
|
|
"Later, when we were older, Megan came into my life. She wanted as
|
|
much of my time as Kell did, and I didn't have enough for both of them.
|
|
I was spending more and more time with Megan, and I didn't realize how
|
|
much this affected Kell. A couple of years of this went by and things
|
|
got worse. I thought it was his jealousy and envy of Megan that was
|
|
affecting him. I was wrong. It was the pain and loneliness of being shut
|
|
out of our friendship that hurt him, but I didn't see that at the time.
|
|
"Megan and I were married. Kell wasn't there. I think that hurt as
|
|
much as what happened later," Raphael said. "The night of our marriage
|
|
... it ...
|
|
"I awoke the next day and turned to wake Megan. She didn't respond
|
|
to my playful pushes. I told her to wake up and she opened her eyes.
|
|
They were a dull grey. Her once sparkling green eyes were a dull grey.
|
|
She wouldn't speak or move. I ...
|
|
"Later, I searched for Kell. When I went to the alchemist shop,
|
|
Loth told me Kell had left early in the morning in a hurry. I believed
|
|
him. Megan was cursed, Kell had fled, and I didn't know what to do. I
|
|
left Megan in her parent's care while I searched for Kell. When I
|
|
couldn't find him, I returned home. Megan was the same and Kell was
|
|
still missing. I took Megan with me as I searched for him again because
|
|
I knew that it would be a long time and I wanted her with me. After
|
|
awhile of searching, I still didn't find him so I searched for a cure
|
|
and after that, I searched for anything to help Megan."
|
|
"I'm sorry," Jandis said softly.
|
|
"Not to sound like a stone," Kyle said, "but what does this have to
|
|
do with Loth?"
|
|
"I found out recently that Loth was behind the curse. I think he
|
|
had Kell locked up in his shop all the time that I searched for him. All
|
|
that time, I blamed Kell for Megan, and throughout it all, he searched
|
|
for a cure. Knowing that I blamed him, he still helped me.
|
|
"I caught up to Kell in Dargon, but before I could do anything,
|
|
Loth appeared. I wanted to kill both of them. Loth wanted to kill me,
|
|
and Kell wanted to make things right. He never stopped being my friend,
|
|
and I realized that too late ...
|
|
"Loth tried to kill me with a poison dart, and Kell stepped in
|
|
front of me. He took the dart meant for me. Loth left him there to die.
|
|
It was a very potent poison, and he was suffering horribly. He asked me
|
|
to save him from the pain ...
|
|
"He died in my arms by my hand, and he still kept our friendship."
|
|
"I'm sorry," Kyle said. "That must have been a hard thing to do.
|
|
You've been through quite a bit, and I'm surprised you're still sane. I
|
|
don't think I could have handled all that very well. Still, even with
|
|
your connection to Loth, I still don't understand why we had to find
|
|
you?"
|
|
"I really don't know either," Raphael replied, "unless it's because
|
|
I'm more familiar with Loth. Or maybe I know something about Loth that I
|
|
don't realize will help. Or maybe it's because I want very badly to run
|
|
my sword through his twisted heart. Whatever reason, we should get back
|
|
to searching for him." Raphael looked to Jandis and his magical box.
|
|
When Jandis started walking, Raphael and Kyle followed.
|
|
"Who did you say commanded you to find me?" Raphael asked.
|
|
"We didn't," Kyle answered. "We can't, actually."
|
|
"But you are commanded to stop Loth?"
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
Raphael didn't like trusting strangers, but his desire for revenge
|
|
outweighed everything else. If they could track Loth, then he would
|
|
accompany them to see where they would go. If things started to look
|
|
bad, he thought he could deal with them. They weren't trained fighters
|
|
and carried no weapons, so he put his faith in their small box as they
|
|
walked through Dargon.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Night One
|
|
by Max Khaytsus
|
|
<khaytsus@cs.colorado.edu>
|
|
Naia 10, 1015
|
|
|
|
"Jana, wait for me!" a tall blond man called, yanking the bridle
|
|
from his mount's mouth and hanging it off the saddle, resting in the
|
|
corner of the stall. "Chew on some hay, Ranger," he said, brushing the
|
|
horse's mane.
|
|
"Come on, Shor. I'm really tired and really hungry and the
|
|
innkeeper should be doing that anyway."
|
|
"Patience, Jana." The man picked up his pack and slung it over his
|
|
shoulder. "We've been on the road all day. A few more moments won't make
|
|
a difference for us tonight, but may produce rested horses tomorrow.
|
|
You're too young to be in such a hurry."
|
|
"I'm not going to wait to be your age before doing all the things I
|
|
want to do."
|
|
Kishore Talluri yanked a sword from the saddlebag of the white
|
|
horse next to Ranger and handed it to Jana. "Ten years isn't so long a
|
|
wait and if you're in such a hurry to start your adventure, you can do
|
|
so by not leaving your weapon behind."
|
|
"Next thing you'll be telling me is that I have to kill what I
|
|
eat!"
|
|
"Some days, you do."
|
|
They left the small barn which served as the inn's stables and went
|
|
into the large house across the courtyard, Jana having to remind herself
|
|
to slow down to her companion's relaxed pace.
|
|
The inn was tall by forest standards, a two story building with an
|
|
attic on one side and an extended third floor on the other, barely
|
|
covered by the trees that stood around it. A sign over the door -- there
|
|
was no customary plaque -- read 'The Forgotten Inn', referring to the
|
|
inn's location in the middle of nowhere.
|
|
"What can I do for you, folks?" an overweight elderly man at the
|
|
counter by the stairs asked. He stood up and shifted his weight
|
|
uncomfortably, a pocket of belly fat hanging over his belt.
|
|
"How far is it to Dargon?" Kishore asked.
|
|
The innkeeper delayed giving his answer, studying the man and his
|
|
companion. The man was tall, almost tall enough for his size to seem
|
|
absurd, but proportionately built. His long sun-bleached hair hung down
|
|
to his shoulders, a dark streak running above his temple and down behind
|
|
his ear. His skin was well tanned, darker than the bleached hair, giving
|
|
him an exotic foreign appearance.
|
|
The girl, in contrast, was of average height, with delicate, almost
|
|
aristocratic features, making her appear out of place so far from
|
|
civilization. Her long, sandy blond hair was ruffled from what must have
|
|
been a long trip. She shifted impatiently beside the man, holding a pack
|
|
in one hand and a sheathed sword in the other.
|
|
"A few days or so in the light," the innkeeper sang his pitch. "At
|
|
night you're bound to get lost and never get there at all."
|
|
"Then we will need two rooms," Kishore declared.
|
|
"One room. I only have one room."
|
|
"We need two." He could tell the man was lying, trying to raise the
|
|
price.
|
|
"I'm sorry, but ..."
|
|
Kishore dropped his pack with a thud and drew his sword, slamming
|
|
the blade on the counter. "Do I have to kill someone to make room?" his
|
|
previously quiet voice boomed in the lobby.
|
|
A tall skinny man, the only patron in the common room, looked up at
|
|
the exchange from his meal. His sharp features betrayed no emotion.
|
|
"Well, I ..." the innkeeper stammered. "... I ... of course. Look,
|
|
we do have two rooms, after all." He placed two round keys on the
|
|
counter.
|
|
"Next time you wish to drive the price up," Kishore warned, "tell
|
|
me how good the rooms are, not how few you have." He sheathed his sword
|
|
and picked up his pack. "Do you wish to eat first?" he asked Jana.
|
|
"If it won't trouble you too much," Jana said. Her voice remained
|
|
level, as if no violent exchange took place. She was either oblivious to
|
|
her companion drawing his sword or simply saw it enough times that it
|
|
made little difference to her.
|
|
"Serve us in the common room," Kishore said and followed the young
|
|
woman to a table.
|
|
The skinny man by the wall threw them one last glance and resumed
|
|
his meal as they walked by. As Kishore and Jana took their seats, a
|
|
heavyset, bearded man wearing a gold and blue tabard over plain yellow
|
|
and brown clothes came down the stairs and sat at the table deep in the
|
|
corner not far from the entrance. Jana immediately moved to place
|
|
Kishore between herself and the man in the corner. Even sitting down,
|
|
Kishore was almost a full head taller than she and his height enabled
|
|
her to almost completely disappear from view of the tabarded man.
|
|
"Problem?" Kishore glanced at her.
|
|
"He's from Narragan. The crest is of the House of Pyenson."
|
|
"Do you know him?" Kishore carefully glanced over at the man, who
|
|
was clearly minding his own business, looking towards the common room
|
|
entrance, clearly waiting or the innkeep.
|
|
"No," Jana answered, "but that doesn't mean he doesn't know me."
|
|
Kishore was about to answer, but said nothing as the innkeep
|
|
entered the room. He stopped first to talk to the man wearing the
|
|
tabard, then came over to Kishore and Jana's table.
|
|
"What is it you wish to order?"
|
|
"Lamb, please," Jana said. "And some fruit."
|
|
"And you, sir?"
|
|
"Lamb is fine," Kishore agreed, "and a pitcher of watered-down
|
|
ale."
|
|
"We have no watered-down ale, I assure you," the fat man protested.
|
|
Kishore's coal dark eyes challenged him.
|
|
"Right away. I'll find the worst in the house ..."
|
|
"Hey, barkeep! Where's my food?" a particularly short man wearing
|
|
an earth-colored cape over well worn leather bounced his way down the
|
|
stairs and into the common room.
|
|
"It's coming, it's coming," the innkeeper grumbled and left.
|
|
The midget sat by the skinny man, looking curiously at the pair of
|
|
newcomers a table away. "Hey, Sal, that's a lizard man," he whispered to
|
|
his companion.
|
|
Kishore slowly turned his head and stood up. "Call me that again,
|
|
midget, and I'll cut you in two."
|
|
The man in the tabard looked up at the sound of the terse words,
|
|
but said nothing.
|
|
The skinny man hurried to stand up, drawing himself to his full
|
|
height, almost as tall as Kishore. "My companion merely means he has
|
|
never seen a Lashkirian before. I am sure no insult was intended."
|
|
"If he says it again, he'll never have to worry about seeing
|
|
another Lashkirian again," Kishore said and sat down.
|
|
"You're not going to walk over and slam your sword in his soup?"
|
|
Jana asked.
|
|
"Not before it's served to him," Kishore laughed.
|
|
"Hey, let it go! People like you are rare around here." She was
|
|
concerned about a potential fight, and happy that Kishore chose to
|
|
return to his seat, where he shielded her from the man who belonged to
|
|
the House of Pyenson.
|
|
"Obviously," Kishore leaned back in his chair, throwing one last
|
|
glance at the two men who had managed to insult him before he was
|
|
comfortably in his seat. Jana shifted uncomfortably, using Kishore for
|
|
cover.
|
|
"What do we do after Dargon?" Jana asked.
|
|
"After Dargon?" Kishore tilted his head back to look at the high
|
|
ceiling with two tiers of corridors over the common room. The first
|
|
balcony circling the room was wide, with doors to rooms, five to a wall.
|
|
The second, far above it, was small and narrow, with no visible ladders
|
|
or stairs, perching up in the rafters. "Beautiful architecture. I saw
|
|
this ..." he paused, thinking, "... somewhere down south. Armand or
|
|
Sharks' Cove or Bitom ... They all blend together after a time."
|
|
"I haven't seen anything like it in Armand," Jana said. "Of course
|
|
I didn't go to many taverns there."
|
|
Kishore shrugged. "It'll come to me."
|
|
"Dargon?"
|
|
"Yes ... what's the next large city to the east?"
|
|
"There isn't one. Not until you're in Asbridge. That's maybe a
|
|
month distant."
|
|
Kishore bit his lower lip. "Waste of time. What else is there?"
|
|
The inn door slammed as a red-headed woman in armor walked in.
|
|
"Innkeep!"
|
|
Everyone in the common room turned to look at the newcomer.
|
|
"Coming, coming!" the man's voice sounded from somewhere behind the
|
|
counter and a moment later he appeared, a dirty apron hanging off his
|
|
neck, barely covering his belly. "What is it, miss? Sir?"
|
|
Kishore and Jana exchanged amused expressions, as the two men the
|
|
nearby table did the same. The woman was muscular, wearing dull red
|
|
mail, augmented with steel plates. Her hair was tied back and hanging
|
|
over her shoulder in a messy tail. A sword sat in a scabbard hanging on
|
|
her back, the hilt sticking out over her right shoulder.
|
|
"I want a room and a meal. Can you handle that tonight?"
|
|
"Yes, yes. Or course. Always glad to do repeat business."
|
|
"Left-handed fighter," Kishore whispered to Jana as the woman
|
|
walked into the common room.
|
|
"How can you tell?"
|
|
"Sword on left shoulder."
|
|
"Oh ..."
|
|
The red-haired woman paused in the middle of the room, looking at
|
|
the tables and the patrons already present. She selected a table not far
|
|
from Kishore and Jana and sat down, merely nodding a greeting to them.
|
|
"Dargon?"
|
|
"Yes ... I don't want to spend a month on the road."
|
|
"There's a town called Tench a half month south of Dargon. You can
|
|
follow the River Coldwell most of the way there. It's sort of a big
|
|
place that's really small."
|
|
"Rat hole," the red-haired woman looked over at Jana.
|
|
"Rat hole?"
|
|
"Stinking Lame Duck Inn. Innkeeper's boy tried to rob me. Came into
|
|
my room in the middle of the night, thought he could take my armor."
|
|
"It would seem he did not succeed," Kishore said.
|
|
"I gutted the little weasel on the banister."
|
|
"Gutted?" Jana winced.
|
|
"Like a rabbit," the woman leaned forward.
|
|
Jana pushed herself further into her chair, away from the red-head.
|
|
"Did he ... did he ... die?"
|
|
"Die? I hope not! I want him to remember the night that earned him
|
|
that scar!"
|
|
"You didn't stay to find out?" Kishore asked.
|
|
"How could I? Every bandit in the place was on me before the kid
|
|
slid down to the first floor. What are they thinking in that town? That
|
|
a woman can't take care of herself?"
|
|
"Did you prove them wrong?"
|
|
"The first two or three ... Then I had to run."
|
|
Kishore laughed. "A town for you not to visit, then."
|
|
"Not anytime soon," the woman agreed. She extended her arm. "Ravi
|
|
Lavgan."
|
|
"Kishore Talluri," the Lashkirian gripped forearms with her --
|
|
untraditional, as she was a woman. "Jana Wynn, my ward," he added,
|
|
introducing his companion.
|
|
"A pleasure," Jana said.
|
|
The innkeeper bustled into the common room and placed a plate
|
|
before the midget, then placed pitchers of ale and water and some wooden
|
|
cups on the table in front of Kishore. "Busy night tonight," he
|
|
commented and ran off again.
|
|
"Please, join us," the Lashkirian invited the red-haired woman and
|
|
she gladly changed tables.
|
|
"That's a ... dwarf," she nodded at the other table with a smile.
|
|
"Shhh. He's very sensitive about that," Kishore said.
|
|
"And with a bad temper," Jana laughed.
|
|
"It's just that I've never seen one," Ravi said.
|
|
"I'm sure he knows just that feeling," Kishore laughed.
|
|
"All right, lizard man, enough's enough!" The short man stood up,
|
|
flinging back his cloak to reveal a war hammer hanging at his side.
|
|
"A carpenter dwarf," Kishore said, kicking aside his chair.
|
|
The door to the inn slammed again and four men walked in, all
|
|
dressed in dark leather armor and carrying swords. Two went behind the
|
|
counter, through the doorway to the kitchen. The other two entered the
|
|
common room, but did not sit down, placing themselves in the entry way,
|
|
between the kitchen and the patrons in the common room.
|
|
"Hey, look, a dwarf and an elf," one elbowed the other.
|
|
A yell for help sounded from behind the counter.
|
|
Kishore and the midget, no longer interested in one another, turned
|
|
to the two men. The skinny man with the midget and Ravi also stood up as
|
|
a second yell sounded. Jana looked around and stood up as well, not
|
|
wanting to be left out. The only man to remain sitting was the one in
|
|
the tabard, closest to the two leather-clad men.
|
|
"Just mind your own business, folks," one of the two men said.
|
|
"My business is the meal being made for me back there," Kishore
|
|
warned.
|
|
The bandit drew his sword. "I said mind your own business,
|
|
peasant!"
|
|
As the third scream sounded, Kishore pulled his sword. Ravi
|
|
followed his example, drawing her sword and the midget pulled out his
|
|
hammer.
|
|
"Shor, don't," Jana asked, but he took a determined step forward,
|
|
sword ready.
|
|
"Get out of my way."
|
|
"Three of us, two of you," Ravi warned.
|
|
"Two and a half," the second brigand corrected, drawing his blade
|
|
and leering at the midget.
|
|
"Four," Jana sighed, pulling her sword from its scabbard.
|
|
"You, don't," Kishore turned back and warned.
|
|
The first brigand moved forward, his sword ready for a strike, when
|
|
the table where the man in the tabard sat tilted forward and slammed
|
|
into him, making him tumble to the floor. "There are five, actually," he
|
|
said in a rich voice and stood up. Having no weapon, he picked up a
|
|
chair by its back and moved it closer, to use as a weapon.
|
|
The fallen bandit got up and in a quick lunge swung his blade,
|
|
hoping to catch the large man off guard, but his blade met Ravi's parry
|
|
and was almost ripped from his grasp.
|
|
Kishore responded with a roundhouse swing that caught the surprised
|
|
brigand in the side, the flat of the blade knocking the wind out of him.
|
|
The strike was followed by a chair shattering across the brigand's back,
|
|
sending him to the ground. The second bandit, not waiting for the focus
|
|
of attention to change, swung at the midget, but found his blow blocked
|
|
by the hammer.
|
|
"Ardan!"
|
|
The flat of Kishore's sword came down sharply, across the head of
|
|
the breathless man kneeling before him, decisively knocking him down to
|
|
the ground with a clattering of metal as the sword fell from the
|
|
brigand's grasp. The door to the inn again swung open and two more men
|
|
rushed in. They were dressed in black leather armor, just like their
|
|
predecessors, and they held readied swords. Ravi hurried forward,
|
|
blocking the path of one of the men, meeting his sword with hers,
|
|
creating a dull clanging of metal on metal. The other brigand took
|
|
position over his fallen comrade, taking two wild swings at Kishore.
|
|
The sound of running feet could be heard behind the counter and the
|
|
two men who had first disappeared into the kitchen ran out, one leaping
|
|
over the counter and landing right next to Kishore, forcing the
|
|
Lashkirian back, looking for space to set for two attackers. Jana forced
|
|
her way into the fight, trying to lure one of the men off her companion.
|
|
"Jana, no!"
|
|
A chair crashed across the side of one of the brigands, forcing him
|
|
to stumble sideways, disturbing the midget's defense against the man
|
|
fighting him. Kishore barely managed to parry his other opponent as
|
|
Jana's strategy worked. One of the brigands was now out of Kishore's
|
|
reach and facing Jana one on one. This also placed Jana almost in the
|
|
center of the fray.
|
|
The man fighting Ravi took the opportunity to alter his attack and
|
|
took an extra swing at the young woman in between blows exchanged with
|
|
the red-headed fighter. The man in the tabard barely managed to pull
|
|
Jana back as the brigand's sword passed through the space where she
|
|
stood a moment before.
|
|
The second man of the two who were in the kitchen took the long way
|
|
around the bar, only now coming into the common room. Although his sword
|
|
was drawn, he tackled Jana and her rescuer off the top of the first
|
|
stair, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.
|
|
The midget's opponent, although clearly not comfortable fighting
|
|
against a hammer, had the advantage of height. He unyielding swings
|
|
forced the midget back into the common room. The tall skinny man, who
|
|
sat with the midget, reluctantly drew his sword and backed his friend,
|
|
awkwardly holding the blade, but being enough a distraction to prevent
|
|
an unbalanced fight and not giving anyone the opportunity to dominate
|
|
the melee.
|
|
Jana rolled out of the way, trying to maintain a grip on her weapon
|
|
as the man who tackled her leapt to his feet. She frantically scooted
|
|
back, expecting a strike from above, but instead the bandit swung his
|
|
sword down at the man on the ground. There was no distinct sound that
|
|
Jana could hear, but when the sword came back bloodied, she scrambled to
|
|
her feet, assuming a defensive position. She backed up to where the rest
|
|
of the group fought as the man advanced on her. She parried a swing and
|
|
managed to avoid a thrust before discovering her retreat placed her
|
|
against a table.
|
|
Jana staggered as her opponent's sword tangled in her cloak and
|
|
pulled her off balance. Ravi attempted to counter the advancing
|
|
attacker, but only left herself open for a blow that crushed her armor
|
|
below her ribs. She stumbled into the wall, leaving Jana completely open
|
|
to another attack, when the door again opened and a new sword sank into
|
|
the arm of the man who struck her. The brigand's sword fell to the floor
|
|
and the man groaned in pain.
|
|
Jana twisted out of the way of the man whose sword had caught her
|
|
cloak. Before Ravi could strike at him again, the stranger, a man in
|
|
worn armor with matted black hair, sank his blade into the brigand's
|
|
side.
|
|
Kishore parried his own opponent, delivering a sharp thrust to his
|
|
chest. The man staggered back and sank to the floor and Kishore, no
|
|
longer interested in the man, recovered from his downward thrust and
|
|
brought his blade up sharply under the sword of the man fighting the
|
|
midget. The brigand's weapon angled up and sank into the soft wood of
|
|
the low ceiling separating the common room from the inn vestibule.
|
|
"Oh, fark!"
|
|
"That's right!" The midget's hammer impacted his opponent's
|
|
unprotected stomach, throwing him into the counter several feet behind
|
|
him.
|
|
The remaining brigand, fighting Jana, was quickly confronted and
|
|
brought down by Ravi and the man who was last to join the fight.
|
|
Before any of the swords were down, Kishore leaped over the counter
|
|
and hurried to the kitchen to see what had happened to the innkeeper. He
|
|
reappeared a moment later, shaking his head.
|
|
"Let me see," Ravi pushed her way past him, followed by the tall
|
|
skinny man.
|
|
Kishore leaned on the counter, brushing his hair out of his face
|
|
with both hands. "I don't understand why."
|
|
"Shor?"
|
|
He took hold of Jana, not sure if she wanted to go into the kitchen
|
|
and held her back. "He's dead."
|
|
The man in dirty armor dropped his sword, still stuck in the leg of
|
|
his last opponent and hurried to the kitchen after the others, leaving
|
|
Kishore, Jana and the midget alone.
|
|
"The fat fellow's dead," the midget said, coming up the three steps
|
|
from the common room. "Probably would have done better with a sword."
|
|
Jana turned back to look at the man she tried to hide from, not
|
|
expecting to hear that he did not make it, but not really surprised at
|
|
the results of the blow she saw him receive.
|
|
"Hope that's not what you were after," Kishore challenged the man
|
|
he was ready to fight before the bandits' arrival and turned his back to
|
|
the midget, as he sat down on a stool.
|
|
"You okay, Shor?"
|
|
"Fine," he nodded. "Just a few scrapes. You?"
|
|
Jana appeared tired, but not hurt. "I got my cloak torn. That man
|
|
saved my life. And you and Ravi parried for me."
|
|
"Don't jump into the fight like that again," he said. "It's bad
|
|
enough you're here with me."
|
|
Ravi came out of the kitchen, followed by the two men. "They killed
|
|
him after the fight started," she said. "They were torturing him before
|
|
that."
|
|
"Torturing?"
|
|
The man in the dirty armor made his way around the counter and up
|
|
to the man he had first attacked, lying barely conscious on the floor.
|
|
"Break his fingers, will you?" he grabbed the brigand by his neck and
|
|
pulled him up. The brigand gurgled something, but was only shaken
|
|
harder, his head being hit against the floor. "Like that?!"
|
|
By the time Kishore and the midget's companion made it to him, the
|
|
last brigand was dead, a pool of blood forming under his cracked skull.
|
|
"Good move," the skinny man said. "Kill our only prisoner."
|
|
"You idiot. Don't you know how to hold a sword?"
|
|
"Hey, that's enough!" Ravi intervened. She pushed the stranger's
|
|
sword away. "Thank you for helping us. And for saving me that cut."
|
|
"I ... " He looked her in the eyes and shook his head. "Who were
|
|
they?"
|
|
"I don't know ..."
|
|
"Who are you?"
|
|
"Ravi Lavgan," the red-haired woman introduced herself.
|
|
"Sand," the dirty man replied. "I've worked for Delor every now and
|
|
again. He was a friend ..."
|
|
"I'm sorry ..."
|
|
Sand took a deep breath and pulled himself up on the counter.
|
|
"This is Kishore Talluri," Ravi introduced the Lashkirian, "and
|
|
Jana."
|
|
"We're all grateful for your help," Kishore gripped forearms with
|
|
Sand.
|
|
"You two may as well introduce yourselves," Ravi said to the two
|
|
men holding back. "You made as big a mess as we."
|
|
The skinny man looked down at his companion, then stepped forward.
|
|
"Salish. I'm sorry I wasn't of more help, but I only know the bow."
|
|
"You were a pair of hands and that's what we needed," Ravi said.
|
|
The midget held back the longest, then introduced himself as Giles
|
|
Kreb. He made an effort of greeting everyone except Kishore and by the
|
|
look on the Lashkirian's face, he would have it no other way.
|
|
"What now?" Salish asked.
|
|
"We wait until morning, then get the constable," Ravi suggested.
|
|
"You do that," Sand said. "I'm leaving."
|
|
"You can't," Ravi protested. "You're the only one who knew this
|
|
man."
|
|
"Yeah, and he's a dead body now. I've got other things to do."
|
|
Ravi took hold of his arm. "None of us are from around here.
|
|
Please."
|
|
He set his jaw, challenging her with his eyes, but then gave in.
|
|
"All right. I'll stay."
|
|
Jana looked at Kishore, fear clearly in her eyes.
|
|
"It'll be fine," he assured her. "We're in Dargon."
|
|
"What are you talking about?" Ravi asked.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|