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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 9
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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 4
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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: 07/05/1996
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Volume 9, Number 4 Circulation: 610
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========================================================================
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Contents
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Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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Shadowstone 3 Dafydd Cyhoeddwr Naia 13, 1014
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Friendships Bloody Tear 3 Mark A. Murray Yuli-Sy 1015
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Ruthless Revelry 1 Carlo N. Samson Yuli 04, 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.etext.org in pub/Zines/DargonZine. Issues and
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public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
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DargonZine 9-4, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright July, 1996 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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Summer is inevitably a slow time of year for online magazines, with
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students off on break and just about everyone looking up from their
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computer monitors to enjoy the beauty of the real world. Combine that
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with ye editor working ludicrous hours, and it shouldn't be surprising
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that after a streak of printing four issues in five months, it's been
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nearly three months since our last issue. However, we don't expect that
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to be the norm, and we appreciate your patience and continued interest.
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Another event which added a slight delay to 9-4's publication was a
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scheduled weekend in Denver this June with several of the Dargon Project
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writers. We spent the weekend climbing around places where sane people
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wouldn't venture and generally having a great time in a beautiful area.
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And of course we reminisced, talked shop, and made plans for the future
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of DargonZine.
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And that future looks pretty good, if one judges by the number of
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new readers that have subscribed lately. Since April we've had around
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sixty new readers sign up, for whom this is their first issue, and this
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without putting out an issue for three months! Welcome, everyone! If
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you're a new reader, you might want to check out the back issues,
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particularly DargonZine 9-2 and DargonZine 9-3, which contain parts one
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and two of storylines which continue in this issue.
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While we've added our name to several Web search engines,
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word-of-mouth remains our most important method of finding new readers,
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so I would encourage you to tell your friends about DargonZine and share
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your issues.
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As mentioned, this issue continues Dafydd's "Shadowstone" series
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and Mark Murray's "Friendships Bloody Tear" series. Both storylines
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began in DargonZine 9-2, continued in DargonZine 9-3, and part three of
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both series' appears here. Watch for the final climactic installment of
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"Shadowstone", which should be out in our next issue!
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And this issue also features part one of a new storyline by Dargon
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"Old One" Carlo Samson. Carlo's been writing Dargon Project stories for
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over a decade now (whatever happened to term limits?), and his writing
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has improved over time. His "Ruthless Revelry" promises to be very
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exciting, and he's writing part two now, unless someone has given him
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back the remote control for his television ...
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That's all the news from the editorial desk. Thanks for your
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interest, and enjoy the issue!
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========================================================================
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Shadowstone
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Part III
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by Dafydd Cyhoeddwr
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<white@duvm.ocs.drexel.edu>
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Naia 13, 1014
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Naia 13, 1014.
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Pre-Dawn.
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Corridom Silver Mine, just outside Port Andestn, Duchy Monrodya.
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Kimmentari stepped from the Merstaln into a canyon and reached for
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her perception of the Dance. Her thread showed that she was following
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her path perfectly, and she opened her eyes and started walking west.
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The canyon curved slightly north and when she came round the curve, she
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saw the wall that closed off the end of the box canyon before her. The
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Dance showed that her current task lay within those walls, as well as
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the danger atop the two towers that flanked the gate, and she crept into
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the shadow of some rocks by one of the canyon walls to hide while she
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rested for a moment.
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She thought about the two dreams that had driven her from Castle
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Pentamorlo and into this Dance. In one, the room full of innocents being
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rescued, in the other, every one of them being killed. She hadn't been
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bothered by those dreams since leaving the Castle, but she could now see
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where they fit into the patterns of the Dance she was following and
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facilitating. Both predictions were still equally likely to become
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reality, but only one could lead to the preferred ending.
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And there was still much hidden from her. While the Dance
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encompassed the whole of what was happening here, it wasn't given to her
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to know what each and every thread represented. She still didn't know
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what the doom was which loomed as the reward of failure. She still
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didn't know who the face in the bloody dream was, though it was very
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familiar. And while she knew that the young man, Chandras, whom she had
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met and directed yesterday morning, was an important player in this
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Dance, she didn't yet know in what way.
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It would have been frustrating to her to have such limited
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knowledge of the paths involved in such an important Dance, if she
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wasn't used to it by now from long experience. Even so, she sometimes
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wished for the chance to be a little more free of the guidance of
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Thyerin's Dance -- to make decisions that weren't weighted by the
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knowledge of the complexities of the consequences that resulted from it.
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The fast-livers did it all the time, like her mate going off to fight a
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war that he had no way of knowing the outcome of. What freedom!
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She turned her attention back to her immediate situation, and saw
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that the guards were distracted enough for her to pass the walls. She
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stood, and took the sideways step that let her enter the Merstaln. She
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knew which direction she needed to go, and she was glad to see that she
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was able to do so. One step was all she needed, and when she stepped
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back out of the Merstaln, she found herself behind the walls.
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She looked around the space enclosed by the artificial walls and
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the cliffs of the box canyon. All of the buildings within the compound
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were built against one or the other kind of wall, leaving a large open
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space in the center. And then she saw the dais and recognized the design
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painted there, and with a sinking sensation, she knew -- someone was
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using part of the Shadowstone here!
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She knew whomever had taken possession of the Shadowstone shard
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would keep it near. She refocused her perceptions, and immediately saw a
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faint glowing image of the stone hovering above the center of the dais.
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She also saw a trail of light that she knew traced the path the stone
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had traveled as it was carried around. She followed the trace directly
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to a large building built against the back wall of the canyon, and since
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there were no other traces to indicate that the stone had been moved
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from that building, she knew the stone had to be inside. She took a
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moment to be sure that she was still alone, and then entered it.
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The light trace led her to a room on the top floor of the building.
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She had been cautious in her advance, but she had seen no one, nor had
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she felt any sort of warding or warning spell being triggered. Now she
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could sense the presence of the shard on the other side of the door she
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stood before, so she took a moment to readjust her perceptions to the
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purely physical and prepare herself for the discovery that was coming.
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When she felt herself ready, she opened the door and passed through.
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She found herself in some kind of audience chamber. It was a large
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room sparsely decorated with out-of-place tapestries and patterned rugs,
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backless benches against the side walls, and a throne against the wall
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opposite the door. On a carved wooden stand rested the Shadowstone
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shard, and seated in the throne staring at the pulsing shard was the one
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who had bonded with the shard. Kimmentari felt a pang of regret as she
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recognized the person -- her cousin Olmehri, a half-Araf, half-human
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outcast from Araf society.
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"Greetings, Olmehri," she sang in pure Araf. "It has been long
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since our Dances crossed. How do you fare?"
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The green-haired, blue-eyed half-Araf looked up and sneered in
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contempt. That sneer seemed to emphasize the human qualities in Olmehri
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that blunted and coarsened her Araf heritage, and Kimmentari was
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surprised to find herself slightly bothered by that blending. She felt
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that the two physical types didn't blend well at all, which was
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disquieting considering her own involvement with a human.
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"'How do I fare?'" Olmehri repeated. "Quite well, actually, despite
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being disinherited by my own kind!" Olmehri spoke in the local human
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tongue, and instead of the rich musical tones that always accompanied
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Kimmentari's speech, she was accompanied by faint, somewhat atonal
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notes. Kimmentari supposed that the sound wouldn't be unpleasant to a
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human unless they had heard a full-blood Araf speak.
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"Your expulsion from Araf society was as much your choice as that
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of the Elite. If you hadn't pursued your infatuation with the Leader's
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eldest, the Elite wouldn't have been forced to deal with you in order to
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maintain the purity of the succession.
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"But that's old music now, Olmehri. I'm here about the Shadowstone
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shard."
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"Trying to cheat me of my heritage again, cousin? Not this time."
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Kimmentari frowned, and said, "History has nothing to do with this,
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Olmehri. I do not have your discomfiture always uppermost in my
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thoughts. And that it was my words that led the Elite to rule as they
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did should not lead you to believe that I harbor some kind of vendetta
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against you.
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"The care of the Shadowstone may be our family's heritage, but if
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you were serious about that heritage, you would know that the shard
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should never have been awakened. It's far, far too dangerous."
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"Too dangerous for those timid fleerings among the Elite who refuse
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to use the power they have access to. Too dangerous for you, but not too
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dangerous for me!"
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Kimmentari took a step closer to her cousin and said earnestly,
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"Listen, Olmehri, the lore that surrounds the Shadowstone is not
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fiction. Tell me, why haven't you stood up to face me? Feeling tired
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lately? That's because the shard is feeding off of you. If you don't
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give it enough essences, it takes some of yours. And its need grows with
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every essence you *do* feed it. That group of Raiders you captured and
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gave to the shard will abate the need for a short while, but when it
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returns it will be at three times strength. And then where will you get
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enough lives to feed it?"
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Olmehri looked uncertain for a moment, then rallied. "As my Minions
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grow in number, finding further subjects will become easier and easier.
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And when we reach the completion number, the need will be sated and my
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power will be supreme!"
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"But you will never survive to reach that number! It's too great.
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The total population of Port Andestn -- even of all of Monrodya! --
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isn't enough to satisfy even the shard in your possession. And when you
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are overcome by the Shadowstone, the shard will continue what you have
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started, except there will then be no way to stop it until it consumes
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everyone!"
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Olmehri flinched at that. But then she rallied again, regaining her
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composure. "I *will* succeed, cousin. I am Mistress of the shard, and I
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shall receive the reward. And you, Kimmentari, shall receive only death!
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Now, my knights!"
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The door crashed open, but Kimmentari didn't turn. She reached
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sideways and touched the shard briefly. Olmehri shouted "No!!" and
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lunged from the throne at the shard, but Kimmentari knew that taking it
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away wasn't a solution. Separating the stone from Olmehri wouldn't break
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the link between them, it would just make it impossible for Olmehri to
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feed it and thus hasten the half-Araf's demise and set the Shadowstone
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free from all control. Instead, she took a risk and stepped into the
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Merstaln, vanishing from Olmehri's throne room in a flash of violet
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light.
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Within the Merstaln, Kimmentari surveyed her options. The alien
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landscape that surrounded her conformed only somewhat to the shape of
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the physical plane she had come from, as was normal. There was a pulsing
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node of light next to her which represented the Shadowstone shard's
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presence on this particular order of form. It represented another danger
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the Shadowstone presented -- the natural denizens of this place would be
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attracted to such an alien presence, and some could probably use the
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node as a portal to the first order of form. She hoped that none of
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those creatures were near.
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She scanned the nearby terrain features, and was able to associate
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the slight ridge that ran around her on three sides as the walls of the
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end of the box canyon. She stepped over to the ridge, and exited the
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Merstaln. Sure enough, she found herself on the top of the cliff above
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the building that contained Olmehri's throne room. There as a flurry of
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activity below as Olmehri's Minions ran back and forth across the center
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of the compound, but none of them looked up. Kimmentari backed away from
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the edge and out of sight from below, and contemplated her next task.
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The Dance showed that she should travel to the place where the
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remnants of Thornodd's Raiders were gathered and inform them of their
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choices. She knew that Chandras, the young man she had first met with,
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was with them and she knew she had to keep clear of him -- he had
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touched the power of the Shadowstone when he had assaulted that Minion,
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and it gave him perceptions beyond the normal, at least when it came to
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Araf magics. What she had sensed of his grasp of the Dance had been
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nothing short of amazing, but she couldn't let such clear knowledge
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cloud the decision-making processes required from here on.
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Taking a deep breath, she started the next leg of her journey.
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Naia 13, 1014.
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First bell.
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The Refuge of Thornodd's Raiders, in the Hills outside of Port Andestn,
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Duchy Monrodya.
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Chandras came awake abruptly, and groaned at the pain in his head.
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He reached up instinctively to probe the injury and encountered a
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bandage wrapping his head. He groggily opened his eyes and looked
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around, and found himself lying on the ground in a large cavern along
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with maybe twenty others, one of whom was standing over him with his
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sword drawn, obviously on guard.
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"Wh-where am I?" Chandras shakily asked.
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"The Refuge of Thornodd's Raiders, with the sole remnants of those
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raiders," answered the guard. "And you've asked your last question until
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you give up some answers. Who are you? Why were you running away from
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that mining compound in the middle of our attack?"
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Chandras sat up slowly, still clutching his bandaged head, and
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replied, "I - I'm Chandras. I live in Port Andestn. Um, I happened to be
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trying to reach your camp in the hills just as it was attacked. I
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followed the attackers back to their lair, and then sneaked in. A guard
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caught me and as he was taking me to their leader, there was this
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explosion at the gate. In the confusion, I escaped, but I guess I
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tripped or something, because the last thing I remember was a shape
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rising from behind a rock, and then I was falling ..."
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"Well, that sounds like a good story, to a point. And it's not like
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you had a great deal of time to make it up while you were unconscious.
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So, you're probably not one of the enemy who attacked our valley camp.
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Still, it's not my call." Raising his voice but not taking his eyes off
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of Chandras, the guard called out, "Captain Thornodd! Our guest is
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awake."
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A tall, handsome, imposing woman came over and looked down at
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Chandras. "So, comfortable? I apologize if our hospitality is lacking,
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but we are somewhat short-handed these days. How's your head? I trust
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Dzory's ministrations are satisfactory?"
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Chandras frowned, confused by Thornodd's somewhat odd questions and
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manner. She didn't seem anything like his idea of the leader of a band
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of cutthroat raiders, but more like a Baroness hosting a guest, or
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something. He said, "Ah, my head hurts a bit, but besides that I'm fine.
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I guess."
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"Good, good. And now that the niceties are past, perhaps you can
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repeat for me what you told Dzory here about who you are."
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Chandras repeated his short description, and then elaborated when
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Thornodd asked for more details. He even ended up telling her about the
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strange woman who had given him those choices on the hill above the
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attack, though it was obvious that Thornodd had the hardest time
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believing this part.
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Finally, the Raiders' leader was satisfied -- or satisfied enough,
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since Chandras had a feeling that she wasn't completely convinced.
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Thornodd said, "Thank you for your patience, Chandras. I would
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appreciate your aid when we plan our next assault, and that meeting will
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be after we have all had something to eat. Dzory will show you the
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necessary, and where you can wash up. See you in half a bell."
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Every single remaining raider had gathered for the planning meeting
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around a makeshift table consisting of 4 barrels and a large plank.
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Chandras felt very out of place standing with the rest of them at the
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table, and he really just wanted to be on his way back to Port Andestn
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and just maybe the arms of Delebye. But the Captain had specifically
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invited him to this meeting, so he had little choice.
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Thornodd began, "Before we can effectively plan our second rescue
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attempt, we need to know why our last try failed. Any ideas?"
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"It must have been my explosive packets, Captain," said a slim,
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almost scrawny, young man. "I should never have attempted such a
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contrived setup, too many things could go wrong. But we just don't have
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very many supplies here, so I was forced to make do.
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"The theory was sound though, and I followed the directions in the
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grimoire to the letter. Two secondary packets, primed by the presence of
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the guards in the towers, would when detonated feed energy to the
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primary packet at the gate, enabling the fairly weak explosive there to
|
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do enough damage to breach the gate. But it didn't work that way -- one
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of the secondary packets didn't even go off!
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"I know that Rhand's arrows reached their targets, so the packets
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should have been in place. So it must have been my preparations, unless
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the guards weren't at their posts ..."
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Chandras said, "Oops," without realizing it, and when Thornodd
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looked at him with a questioning expression, he said, "The guard that
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captured me must have come from the tower. He probably saw me from up
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there and left his post. I didn't even think of being spotted from
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above. Stupid mistake, especially for a rooftopper. Sorry."
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Thornodd digested that quickly, and her brief frown was replaced by
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a resigned expression. "What's done is done, and it wasn't done of a
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purpose. I never doubted your magical abilities, Jerek, and now you
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needn't either." The slim youth smiled in response. "At least we know
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that it wasn't some kind of damping or warding magic being used by those
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people.
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"But now for the future. The walls of that mining compound are
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still our most formidable obstacle. Do you have enough materials to
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build more explosives, Jerek?"
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Jerek didn't look hopeful. "Enough for a primary packet, but not
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enough for more than one secondary, and there needs to be at least two
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to get the feeding effect. All told, we can't muster enough explosive
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power to breach that gate."
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"That's all right. We had surprise on our side before, but now
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without it, we don't have enough of a force to charge through a downed
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gate considering that they must be prepared for such a move. But we
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still have to figure out a way to get our people out of that compound,
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and ..."
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"Excuse me," Chandras said, interrupting Thornodd, "but I'm not
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sure that is possible any longer. I mean, what with that ceremony and
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all ..."
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"What do you mean?" Thornodd asked.
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|
"Well, um, I don't think that that ceremony was just some way to
|
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keep their captured prisoners docile. One of that woman Olmehri's
|
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knights said something to one of their victims about 'joining the
|
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Mistress's service' or something like that. That doesn't sound like they
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can just be rescued, does it?"
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Thornodd frowned and said slowly, "So, if your story is true, and
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if that apprentice you attacked *is* associated with the people who are
|
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in that compound (though I don't see the connection), then what we're up
|
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against is a group that seems to be indestructible, that seems to be
|
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bringing down some kind of doom on our area, and who have been
|
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'converting' our captured fellows to their cause (whatever that means)
|
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since the middle of yesterday. This does not sound hopeful."
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"Excuse me, Thornodd, but I think there's another aspect to
|
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consider here." Jerek sounded like he didn't really want to say this,
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but he needed to. Thornodd gave him an 'I'm listening' look, and he
|
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continued, "I'm just guessing here, using what our guest has told us,
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but it seems to follow that if this Mistress Olmehri has somehow
|
|
possessed our former comrades to the extent that they will now fight in
|
|
her army, then she should also have access to their memories. The
|
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knights that Chandras told us about didn't seem like zombies, after all.
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|
What I'm getting to," he said in response to the 'get on with it' look
|
|
from Thornodd, "is that Olmehri must know where this Refuge is -- if not
|
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yet, then soon -- if she can get information from her converts. We
|
|
aren't safe here. Not for very long.
|
|
"I've also been trying to remember why some of this sounds so
|
|
familiar, and I think I recall reading a collection of legends and
|
|
fables some time ago, one of which had some similarities to this. Maybe
|
|
if I could find it -- I'm sure the book is packed away in my treasure
|
|
chest somewhere -- it could provide some clues."
|
|
"Well, we don't have much else to go on, do we? Frankly, I am
|
|
beginning to doubt that we have a chance, here, but I will reserve final
|
|
judgment until Jerek finishes his research. See to your weapons and gear
|
|
while we wait -- we may have to ride at a moment's notice."
|
|
She followed Jerek through one of the several openings in the
|
|
cavern's wall, and the group around the table broke up, some gathering
|
|
into smaller groups to talk quietly, some going through other openings
|
|
that Chandras had seen led to chambers reserved for sleeping and gear
|
|
storage. Chandras didn't know anyone well enough to join in any
|
|
conversations, nor did he have any gear to get ready, so he stood
|
|
against a wall and watched.
|
|
Suddenly, a violet flash from the opening that Thornodd and Jerek
|
|
had gone through drew Chandras' attention. The color reminded him of
|
|
something, but he forgot all about that when he noticed that one of the
|
|
raiders was standing by that opening, and as the raider's eyes scanned
|
|
the main room again before returning to the side chamber, Chandras
|
|
noticed that his eyes were not surrounded by white, but by smoky grey!
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Friendships Bloody Tear
|
|
Part III
|
|
Mark A. Murray
|
|
<mmurray@weir.net>
|
|
Dargon, Yuli-Sy 1015
|
|
|
|
After leaving the cabin and the old mage, Raphael decided to return
|
|
to Dargon City. "It's a port town," he thought, "and wherever I decide
|
|
to go next, it will be easier to get there from Dargon City than from
|
|
out here in the middle of nowhere. Faster, too. Getting to Magnus on
|
|
foot will still take some time. And while Magnus may hold a cure for
|
|
Megan, returning home and dealing with Kell may hold the cure. I've got
|
|
two choices -- Magnus or home? I wonder if May will let Anam stay at the
|
|
inn? What am I going to do with you, Anam? I just can't walk into town
|
|
with a wolf cub by my side. We gathered enough attention when we were
|
|
there before that I don't need any more."
|
|
"I bet Lylle could sneak you in," Raphael said to the pup. "I'm
|
|
sure he could. That part is settled, but where do we go next? Do we look
|
|
for a cure in Magnus, or do we go home?
|
|
"Anam? Megan? It would be nice once in a while, if someone else
|
|
made the decisions.
|
|
"Well, let's go back to Dargon City and decide there. If we walk to
|
|
Magnus and don't find a cure, then we'll have wasted a lot of time. Time
|
|
that could have been spent travelling home. How does that sound?"
|
|
Neither Anam nor Megan gave any indication that they heard, and Raphael
|
|
did not expect any.
|
|
|
|
Raphael was right when he was sure Lylle could sneak Anam into the
|
|
city. Lylle was reluctant to say how he could accomplish it, and Raphael
|
|
didn't want to press the issue. As long as he could get Anam inside,
|
|
Raphael was satisfied. Getting Anam inside the city turned out to be
|
|
easier than talking May into letting him stay in one of her rooms,
|
|
however.
|
|
|
|
"You want to keep *what* in my inn?" May yelled.
|
|
"Shhh! May, please! I don't want it known to everyone in town.
|
|
We'll only be here for a few days. He's taken to Megan and he's too
|
|
young to leave on his own," Raphael pleaded.
|
|
"I won't have no wolf in my inn! No, no, and no! I got this place
|
|
from my mother and she got it from her father and *he* got it from his
|
|
father, who built it. It's always been a respectable place and it always
|
|
will be. I don't want no pets in my inn."
|
|
"I'll pay for any damage that he does while we are here," Raphael
|
|
said. "Please May, I don't have anywhere else to go."
|
|
"Any damages?" May asked.
|
|
"Any damages," Raphael repeated.
|
|
"Tell you what, you pay for any *and all* damages that the wolf
|
|
does and he can stay," May said giving in. "I'll even have one of the
|
|
girls take out all the valuable stuff from the room."
|
|
"Thank you, May."
|
|
"Don't thank me, yet. Wait 'til you check the weight of your purse
|
|
before you start thanking me." May warned. "Now, where is this wolf?"
|
|
"In the back alley," Raphael answered. "I had hoped to bring him in
|
|
the back way and sneak him past the customers to the room upstairs."
|
|
"Go get it before I change my mind! Bring it to the back room," she
|
|
yelled after him. "Wolves in my inn! Next thing you know, I'll have rats
|
|
in my kitchen. Hmmmph!" she said, escorting Megan to the back room.
|
|
Raphael took Anam from Lylle, who had been holding him, and went to the
|
|
back room.
|
|
"May, this is Anam. Anam, this is May," Raphael said introducing
|
|
them. Anam stood where he was, leaned forward, and sniffed May's dress.
|
|
May looked down at Anam as he leaned farther forward. Just when May
|
|
thought he would fall on his face, Anam took a step forward. His nose
|
|
touched her dress and then he licked it. May bent down and scratched
|
|
behind his ear as Anam sat at her feet and leaned against her.
|
|
"He is kind of cute," she said. "Have a seat!" she ordered Raphael.
|
|
"We won't be able to take him upstairs until the customers have either
|
|
left or gone to bed." They talked for a few bells as Raphael told May
|
|
what had happened to him after he had left Dargon City. A maid
|
|
interrupted to let them know that the inn was empty.
|
|
|
|
After washing, cleaning, and changing Megan's clothing, he laid her
|
|
on the bed. Covering her up, he told her to sleep. Megan closed her eyes
|
|
as Anam jumped on the bed to sit beside her. Raphael decided that they
|
|
would be safe enough for him to go out into the city. "I need a break,"
|
|
he thought. "Nothing personal, Megan, but I need to have some time for
|
|
me. You'll be alright, really. I won't be gone long."
|
|
|
|
He was on his way home from the Shattered Spear when a familiar
|
|
figure caught Raphael's attention. "It couldn't be him," he thought. The
|
|
figure had moved on and Raphael lost sight of him in the crowd. Raphael
|
|
moved through the crowd to where he had last seen the man. He got to the
|
|
spot and looked around, but couldn't find him anywhere. Just as he was
|
|
about to give up, he saw the man again. Although Raphael did get a
|
|
better look, the man slipped down an alley before he could tell for sure
|
|
who it was. Raphael ran to the alley's opening and stopped. Cautiously,
|
|
he peered around the corner and saw a figure standing in the middle of
|
|
the alley facing the far end. Raphael silently entered the alley.
|
|
"It is me, you know," the man said turning around. Raphael stopped
|
|
as he realized that it was indeed Kell.
|
|
"Is it really him," he thought. "How is he here and what is he
|
|
doing here?" suddenly sprang into Raphael's mind. Other thoughts
|
|
followed and Raphael dismissed them as he remembered the old man's
|
|
advice. "Killing Kell could end the curse," he thought. There are no
|
|
sureties in life, the old man had also said.
|
|
"Why?" Raphael finally asked. "Why, Kell, after all these years? I
|
|
still don't understand why? You loved her, too."
|
|
"I didn't mean to hurt her," Kell whispered as he lowered his head.
|
|
"I wanted her to love me, too. I wanted you to feel how I felt. You
|
|
spent so much time with her and none with me. It hurt!"
|
|
"Yes, you were *sooo* sad," came a voice from the shadows beyond
|
|
Kell. Raphael saw Kell flinch and cringe at the voice. "What, you don't
|
|
remember me?" the man asked Raphael as he stepped out of the shadows. A
|
|
tall, skinny man stepped into the light.
|
|
Raphael recognized Kell's mentor, Loth, when he stepped out of the
|
|
shadows. Loth stood straight and tall and moved gracefully. His eyes
|
|
sparkled in the moonlight. He had long slender fingers with many rings
|
|
on them, and some fingers even held two rings. He was bald and clean
|
|
shaven with bags under his eyes. Wrinkles and leathery skin made him
|
|
appear old and he carried a staff adorned with runes and metal bands.
|
|
Kell seemed to diminish in his mentor's shadow.
|
|
"Stubborn boy," Loth scolded Kell, "what did you seek to gain? He
|
|
will kill you. Is that it? Do you wish to die? Do you not know that even
|
|
in death I will own you?"
|
|
"No, it can't be," Kell said softly as he dropped to his knees.
|
|
Raphael stood amazed at the power Loth held over Kell. He could see that
|
|
Kell was frightened of Loth and was nothing more than a beaten slave.
|
|
For the first time, Raphael wondered what really happened during Kell's
|
|
apprenticeship. It was then that Raphael remembered the old man's words
|
|
about there being a powerful overshadowing presence to the curse. It
|
|
could only be Loth.
|
|
"You've finally figured it out, haven't you," Loth said as he saw
|
|
realization gather in Raphael's eyes. "Such a shame, isn't it. You
|
|
thought it was your best friend who was responsible for dear Megan's
|
|
condition. And this sniveling idiot on his knees thought he was to
|
|
blame, too, until I told him the truth. Isn't that so, worm! It was *I*
|
|
who twisted Kell's spell and it was *my* magics that cursed Megan! She
|
|
*was* such a dear thing."
|
|
Rage exploded in Raphael. As he stepped forward, he saw that Loth
|
|
had put a tube to his mouth and was pointing it at him. Before he could
|
|
move out of the way, Kell stepped in front of him. Loth exhaled and Kell
|
|
took the dart meant for Raphael.
|
|
"FOOL!" Loth shouted. "You would throw away everything for this
|
|
one? Then die! One way or the other, you will still be mine." Kell
|
|
collapsed into Raphael's hands. Raphael cushioned his fall and gently
|
|
lowered him to the street. "It's a rather nasty poison," Loth said
|
|
matter-of-factly. "I really would love to watch, but I need to conclude
|
|
some business before --" Loth stopped and smiled at the two of them.
|
|
"Well -- we'll meet again. Of that, I have no doubt," Loth said as he
|
|
faded into the shadows.
|
|
|
|
"I'll die soon," Kell said. "I didn't want it to happen this way."
|
|
"Kell ... "
|
|
"Wait, let me say what I have to say," Kell coughed. "He told me
|
|
the truth only a few days after it happened. He was the one that twisted
|
|
my spell. I've lived with that knowledge ever since and it drove me to
|
|
search for a cure. I found that if one of us dies, the curse might be
|
|
lifted. Might be lifted. There are no sureties in life, you know." Kell
|
|
coughed again and this time blood came with the cough. He convulsed and
|
|
his body spasmed violently. "I wasn't strong enough to break his hold on
|
|
me. I was hoping that I could manipulate you into killing him ... " Kell
|
|
convulsed again and blood started to flow out of his eyes and ears. He
|
|
doubled over in pain and screamed. When the pain subsided, Kell looked
|
|
at Raphael and asked for one last favor. "Kill me. I can't take this
|
|
pain. The poison eats away at your insides. It only gets worse. For the
|
|
friendship we had, kill me," Kell pleaded and then closed his eyes in
|
|
pain.
|
|
"I'll always remember the friendship we had," Raphael said as he
|
|
watched his friend convulse in pain. His knife was in his hand and he
|
|
didn't remember getting it. He set the tip against Kell's chest. Looking
|
|
at Kell's face, his shut eyes, his tightly clenched mouth, Raphael
|
|
pushed his blade into his chest. The tip slid easily into Kell. Raphael
|
|
felt his own heart being pierced as his knife struck deeper. Part of
|
|
Raphael died with his friend.
|
|
|
|
Some time later, Raphael stood and slipped into the shadows. "It
|
|
wouldn't be good for someone to find me here or remember me being here,"
|
|
Raphael thought. Loth would pay for this. He would pay for Kell's death,
|
|
the lost years that their friendship could have had, and most of all he
|
|
would pay for the curse on Megan. Moving as fast as he could, Raphael
|
|
hurried back to their room at Spirit's Haven. If what Kell had said
|
|
turned out to be true, then Megan would be cured. There were no
|
|
sureties, Kell had said, he remembered. Realization hit him hard as he
|
|
remembered the old man. "That had been Kell! Emmet had been Kell! Kell
|
|
had been the old man!" Hope built up inside Raphael as he got closer to
|
|
Spirit's Haven.
|
|
Pushing the door open, Raphael entered Spirit's Haven. There were
|
|
only a few customers in the inn. Raphael glanced over the room looking
|
|
for Megan or May. Not seeing either one, Raphael went to the stairs,
|
|
stopped at the bottom and looked up. There was no one in sight at the
|
|
top of the stairs. Putting his hand on the bannister, Raphael hesitated.
|
|
"I don't know if I can take this," he thought. "If she's not cured, I
|
|
... don't know." He started up the stairs slowly and each step seemed an
|
|
eternity to him. Fear built up as he ascended the stairs. His body
|
|
trembled and his grip tightened on the bannister.
|
|
"This is worse than not knowing!" his mind screamed. Letting go of
|
|
the bannister, he climbed to the top and walked to their door. His heart
|
|
beat rapidly as he turned the latch and opened the door. Time seemed to
|
|
slow as the door opened. He saw the wall, the stand with the wash basin,
|
|
and his backpack. The door opened further and Raphael saw Megan on the
|
|
bed with Anam beside her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was
|
|
shallow. "She's just asleep," he silently hoped. "She's cured and just
|
|
sleeping."
|
|
"She's cured," he repeated to himself quietly. As he stepped into
|
|
the room, Anam stood and jumped off the bed to greet him. "Anam didn't
|
|
wake her," he thought. "She's sleeping soundly -- that's it." Raphael
|
|
ignored Anam's greetings as he approached the bed. "If there is any
|
|
justice in this world, please, let it be now," he pleaded. He reached
|
|
the bed and shook her.
|
|
"Megan?" he asked as he shook her. "Megan, wake up," he told her.
|
|
Megan's eyelids fluttered and opened. As he watched them open, two
|
|
circles of grey burned their image into his mind.
|
|
"No!" he said shaking her again. "Megan, no," he pleaded as his
|
|
legs collapsed. He grabbed her for support as he dropped to his knees by
|
|
the bed. "No," he whispered again as the world suddenly went black.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Ruthless Revelry
|
|
Part I
|
|
by Carlo N. Samson
|
|
<macgyver@interaccess.com>
|
|
Yuli 04, 1015
|
|
|
|
It was midafternoon at the Orb and Claw tavern. The small common
|
|
room was mostly empty save for a few regulars who sat at either the long
|
|
table in the center of the room or at the bar. The door of the tavern
|
|
was propped open to let the breeze from outside bring relief from the
|
|
summer heat.
|
|
Christabel Montegarde stood behind the bar, smiling cheerfully as
|
|
she passed a mug of dark ale to a waiting patron. Her friend and fellow
|
|
serving girl, Sheela, joked with the men sitting at the main table and
|
|
occasionally dodged a swat at her rear. Christabel shook her head as she
|
|
wiped off the counter, wondering how Sheela put up with such treatment.
|
|
Suddenly, the door to the kitchen crashed open and a small gray cat
|
|
darted out with a yowl. A large white-haired man, his face red with
|
|
anger, loomed in the kitchen doorway. He shook his club-like walking
|
|
stick at the fleeing cat and shouted, "Get out, ye filthy creature!" He
|
|
shot an angry look at Christabel and limped heavily over to her. Though
|
|
the bar was between them, she backed away. The large man slammed the
|
|
head of the walking stick on the countertop and thundered, "Gods
|
|
bleedin' eyes, girl, how often must I tell ye ta keep your flea-crawlin'
|
|
beasties out of my tavern!"
|
|
Christabel jerked at the sound and folded her arms across her
|
|
chest. "I -- I'm sorry, Uncle Fergus," she said quickly, casting her
|
|
gaze to the floor. "He must have gotten out of the room, and --"
|
|
"Enough excusin'!" Fergus leaned forward and continued in a low
|
|
voice, "The next time I see that accursed creature, I'll smash its
|
|
blasted skull to splinters. Clear enough, girl?"
|
|
"Yes, Uncle Fergus," Christabel replied, still not looking at him.
|
|
His breath smelled of wine and decayed food. "I promise he won't --"
|
|
Fergus snorted. "You promise," he echoed derisively. He turned and
|
|
began limping back into the kitchen.
|
|
From across the room, Sheela gave Christabel a look of sympathy and
|
|
called out, "It was my fault, sir. I was supposed to look after the cat
|
|
today, and --" Her words were cut off as Fergus slammed the door.
|
|
In the awkward moment of silence that followed, Christabel became
|
|
keenly aware that the tavern patrons were all looking at her. Suddenly
|
|
she remembered the cat. She rounded the end of the bar and dashed to the
|
|
doorway.
|
|
"Ranulf!" she called, looking frantically up and down the street.
|
|
She shouted the cat's name again.
|
|
Sheela came up next to her. "Don't worry, he'll be back," she said,
|
|
patting Christabel's shoulder. "He lived for quite a long time by
|
|
himself before you found him, didn't he?"
|
|
Christabel rubbed her bare arms. "I wish Uncle Fergus didn't hate
|
|
animals so much."
|
|
"He doesn't do so well with people, either," Sheela remarked. "I'll
|
|
see if I can't find Ranulf. He shouldn't be too far gone." She slipped
|
|
out the door and into the street, calling for the cat.
|
|
Christabel sighed. She brushed a wisp of light-brown hair out of
|
|
her eyes, then went back into the tavern and resumed wiping the counter.
|
|
Her anxiety gave way to sadness; she wished for the hundredth time that
|
|
her father hadn't sent her to live with Uncle Fergus when her mother
|
|
died of the blackspot several months ago. The death had greatly affected
|
|
the entire family, but Fergus most of all since her mother was his only
|
|
sibling. He had since grown cold and withdrawn, and rarely paid
|
|
Christabel much attention except to scold her or assign her duties. She
|
|
longed for the company of her three sisters, but they now lived with
|
|
their grandparents; the cat was now the only other family she had.
|
|
Her thoughts were interrupted as Sheela strode back into the common
|
|
room. "Did you find him?" Christabel asked.
|
|
Sheela shook her head, but a sly grin spread across her face as she
|
|
replied, "Sorry, I didn't find Ranulf." She turned and gestured as a
|
|
dark-haired young man dressed in a white silk cote entered the tavern,
|
|
cradling the gray cat in his arms. "He did!"
|
|
Christabel gave a cry of delight and relief as the young man handed
|
|
the cat to her. "Oh, thank you, Trevin! Where did you find him?"
|
|
"Not far from here. He seemed to have found some new friends." The
|
|
young man explained that Ranulf had been caught by a pair of street
|
|
children who were about to dunk the hapless feline into a full rain
|
|
barrel. After rescuing the cat, Trevin had run into Sheela, who led him
|
|
back to the Orb and Claw.
|
|
Christabel smiled broadly at Trevin, but quickly dropped her eyes
|
|
when he grinned back. Sheela caught her friend's look, and held out her
|
|
arms. "Here, let me take him. He must be tired from running." She
|
|
accepted the cat and headed for the stairs that led up to the private
|
|
rooms.
|
|
Christabel tugged at her ear as she absently rubbed the bar rag at
|
|
a spot on the counter. "So, will you be having your usual today?" she
|
|
asked.
|
|
Trevin glanced from side to side and ran a hand through his dark
|
|
shoulder-length hair. He shook his head. Leaning forward slightly, he
|
|
said, "Truthfully, I came here to see you. To ask you, really, if you'd
|
|
--"
|
|
"Greetings, all!" came a shout from the tavern doorway. The two of
|
|
them turned to see a thin man clad in brightly-colored clothes juggling
|
|
three large eggs as he walked carefully into the room. "I come from the
|
|
traveling troupe of Rushike, the most famous and renowned master of
|
|
amusements and wonders in all of Baranur!" Without taking his eyes off
|
|
the eggs, the juggler made his way over to the nearest table and
|
|
snatched a mug off the table. The eggs splashed one by one into the ale.
|
|
But before the owner of the drink could react, the juggler made a
|
|
flourish with his free hand and a copper coin appeared between his
|
|
fingers. "My apologies and thanks," he said as he flipped the coin to
|
|
the man. He set the mug on the table and made a deep bow.
|
|
Christabel and Trevin joined the tavern patrons in applauding. Just
|
|
then, the kitchen door flew open again and Fergus limped out. "What in
|
|
the name of the bleedin' gods is this?" he roared. Shaking his walking
|
|
stick at the juggler he shouted, "Get out, ye glowin' freak, or I'll
|
|
crack that skinny head of yours, see if I don't!"
|
|
"The show begins two bells before dusk. May you all attend and be
|
|
amused!" the juggler said quickly, backing to the door. "Even you, my
|
|
good sir," he said to Fergus, who snarled and thumped the stick hard on
|
|
the floor. With a hasty bow, the juggler was gone. The large man gave a
|
|
satisfied grunt and retreated back into the kitchen.
|
|
Trevin turned to Christabel. The girl gave a weak smile and said,
|
|
"That's just the way he is."
|
|
"Is he that way with you, as well?"
|
|
Christabel shrugged and avoided his gaze, feebly swiping the
|
|
counter with the rag. The young man seemed to sense her discomfort and
|
|
gently reached out to touch her cheek. She looked up at him and he said,
|
|
"Never mind that. What I wanted to ask you is if --"
|
|
"What was the old man foaming about?" called Sheela, jumping down
|
|
the last two steps of the stairs and striding over to them. Christabel
|
|
informed her of Fergus' displeasure with the juggler.
|
|
"You mean he scared the poor fool away?" Sheela made a disparaging
|
|
sound and shook her head. "But -- you said he was from Rushike's troupe?
|
|
The odd lot that took over Bannon's Field the day before last?"
|
|
"That would be them," Trevin affirmed with a nod. Sheela's eyes
|
|
widened and she leaned in close to Christabel. Her voice dropped low as
|
|
she said, "My friend Kendal's been keeping a watch on them, and he said
|
|
that they've got this huge tent set up in the middle of the field." She
|
|
went on to say that the tent had apparently been put up in the middle of
|
|
the night, and armed guards now stood around it to keep away the
|
|
curious.
|
|
"Truly?" Christabel asked. "What do you suppose is so secret,
|
|
then?"
|
|
"Kendal thinks it's a dragon."
|
|
Trevin laughed. "I've seen the tent -- it's big, but not so large
|
|
as that. Besides, any dragon surely would have burned it's way out by
|
|
now."
|
|
"That's only if you believe they breathe fire," Sheela replied
|
|
smugly. To Christabel she said, "I'd give a week's wages to find out,
|
|
wouldn't you?"
|
|
Trevin cleared his throat. "You might, but she won't have to." The
|
|
two girls looked at him sharply. "That's what I'm here to ask you,
|
|
Christabel," he said with a grin. "Some friends of mine and I will be
|
|
attending the troupe's show this evening, and I was hoping you would
|
|
like to come along."
|
|
Christabel's eyes lit up, and she drew a deep breath. So he did
|
|
have some interest in her, after all! Ever since he and his friends had
|
|
started frequenting the Orb and Claw, she had done all she could to
|
|
attract his attention. He had been friendly enough with her, but she
|
|
thought he might have been more interested in Sheela, who certainly had
|
|
ample charms in her rich blond hair and long legs.
|
|
"Well?" Trevin's voice snapped her out of her brief reverie. She
|
|
pulled at her ear and smiled shyly. "I -- I'd like to, very much."
|
|
The young man grinned widely, and she thought she detected a hint
|
|
of relief in his pleased expression. Then he sobered and asked, "Will
|
|
your uncle allow you, though? Do you have to work this evening?"
|
|
Christabel's smile crashed. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I may
|
|
have to." Deep disappointment began to well up within her.
|
|
Sheela put her hands on her friend's shoulders. "No, you go with
|
|
Trevin. I'll get Tisha to take your place."
|
|
"You will?" Christabel said, immediately brightening. "Oh, Sheela!
|
|
Thank you!" She gave the blond girl a hearty embrace.
|
|
Trevin favored Sheela with a look of thanks. "Until this evening,
|
|
then," he said to Christabel. He waved to the girls as he left the
|
|
tavern.
|
|
|
|
Fergus did not growl a refusal or smash his walking stick about
|
|
when Christabel asked for permission to attend the traveling show with
|
|
Trevin. Rather, he stared for a long moment at the girl, then grunted
|
|
his assent as he turned back to his inspection of the ale casks that
|
|
lined one wall of the kitchen. Somewhat surprised, she then mentioned
|
|
that her friend Tisha would be taking over the rest of her evening
|
|
shift. Fergus nodded and waved dismissively, not bothering to take his
|
|
attention away from the casks.
|
|
Christabel thanked him and left the kitchen, casting a curious
|
|
glance back at him as she did so. Was this his way of apologizing for
|
|
chasing Ranulf out of the tavern? She shook her head. More likely, he
|
|
didn't want to have to deal with her for the rest of the night.
|
|
|
|
Trevin returned to the Orb and Claw a few bells later. He now wore
|
|
a brown leather jerkin over a red cote decorated with gold embroidery.
|
|
Upstairs in the girls' room, Christabel heard Fergus calling for her as
|
|
she fumbled with the laces of the black bodice she wore over the pale
|
|
blue chemise that Sheela had lent her. "I'll be down in a moment!" she
|
|
called back. In a softer voice she said, "Oh, Sheela! I feel so
|
|
nervous."
|
|
The blond girl finished braiding Christabel's hair and stood back,
|
|
examining her handiwork. "You're as lovely as the sky is wide, Belle.
|
|
Trevin will forget all other women when he sees you! I'll go down and
|
|
let him know you're nearly ready." Sheela patted her friend's shoulder
|
|
as she left the room.
|
|
Christabel sighed and looked over at Ranulf, who was curled up on
|
|
Sheela's bed. "At least you're calm." The gray cat flicked his tail and
|
|
yawned. When she had finished lacing up her bodice and checked her hair
|
|
in the mirror, Christabel took a deep breath and started resolutely
|
|
downstairs, making sure that the bedroom door was firmly shut behind her
|
|
to prevent Ranulf from escaping again.
|
|
Once down in the common room she saw Trevin sitting at the bar with
|
|
a mug in his hand, keeping an uneasy eye on Fergus, who stood behind the
|
|
counter. Catching sight of Christabel, Trevin abandoned the drink and
|
|
took a copper piece out of his belt pouch. He started to hold it out to
|
|
Fergus, but since the large man made no move to accept it he placed the
|
|
coin on the counter. Fergus stared at the youth, then palmed the coin
|
|
without comment.
|
|
"Here she is!" said Sheela, straightening up from wiping off the
|
|
long table. With obvious relief, Trevin went over to Christabel and took
|
|
her hand, pressing it against his cheek. "Delighted to see you again,"
|
|
he murmured.
|
|
Christabel felt herself grow warm all over. "I'm glad to see you
|
|
again, too," she replied softly. Trevin smiled into her eyes as he
|
|
released her hand reluctantly. Turning to Fergus, he promised to have
|
|
Christabel back before the tavern's last call. The large man grunted and
|
|
muttered, "See that you do."
|
|
"Well, I hope you two enjoy yourselves," said Sheela, walking with
|
|
Christabel and Trevin to the door. "And make sure you find out what's in
|
|
that tent!" she whispered.
|
|
|
|
Outside, townsfolk were already heading to the north side of the
|
|
town toward Bannon's Field, an uncultivated stretch of land where fairs
|
|
and festivals were usually held. Parents were pulled along by eager
|
|
children, groups of young people chatted and laughed, and some of the
|
|
more prosperous citizens rode by on horseback or in private carriages.
|
|
Christabel noticed that many people carried food baskets and
|
|
rolled-up blankets, and pointed this out to Trevin. She offered to go
|
|
back and get a blanket for them to sit on, since the grass of Bannon's
|
|
Field tended to be sparse in some places. With a knowing grin he told
|
|
her it wasn't necessary, and gazed expectantly down the street.
|
|
Presently, a black carriage came into view and halted in front of the
|
|
couple. The driver nodded to Trevin, who opened the door and motioned
|
|
Christabel inside. Somewhat taken aback by this unexpected luxury, the
|
|
girl hesitated before climbing aboard.
|
|
There were two other people already inside: a bearded youth wearing
|
|
a black-and-white doublet, and a small dainty-faced girl in a long
|
|
purple silk gown. The youth smiled pleasantly at Christabel, while the
|
|
girl regarded her with a look of cool disdain as she ran a silver comb
|
|
through her pale blond hair.
|
|
Trevin took the seat next to Christabel and shut the door. As the
|
|
carriage lurched into motion, Trevin made the introductions. The girl
|
|
was Joya Faulken, daughter of a local wool merchant, and the youth was
|
|
Giles Renier, youngest son of the town goldsmith.
|
|
Christabel didn't know Giles, but certainly knew of Joya since her
|
|
family was one of the most well-known and respected in the town. Her
|
|
father was the head of the local Merchants' Guild, and often had public
|
|
and private dealings with Baron Marstowe. Her mother organized lavish
|
|
feasts for visiting nobles and officials, as well as for the wealthier
|
|
townspeople; to be invited to one of her banquets conferred an immediate
|
|
elevation in a person's social rank. Christabel often fantasized about
|
|
attending such a banquet, but knew that someone of her station in life
|
|
would hardly be considered. But now, she was sitting directly across
|
|
from the daughter of the eminent Faulkens! This was certainly something
|
|
she had never expected.
|
|
Giles made to take Christabel's hand in the usual greeting, but was
|
|
brought up short by a sharp look from Joya.
|
|
"So you're the one Trevin thought to bring?" the small girl
|
|
sniffed, looking Christabel up and down.
|
|
"Now Joya," Trevin began, "you did say that I could -- "
|
|
"Yes, yes, fine," Joya cut in with an impatient nod of her head.
|
|
She tucked the comb into a small pouch that hung around her slim waist.
|
|
Regarding Christabel with a look of someone being asked to taste an
|
|
unfamiliar food, Joya said, "So you work at that little pub, then? The
|
|
Horrid Claw?"
|
|
"Orb and Claw," Christabel corrected her. "And yes, I do work
|
|
there. My uncle owns --"
|
|
"You would be a serving wench, then?"
|
|
Christabel nodded. "I serve the customers their drinks."
|
|
"Indeed. How fascinating." Joya turned and contemplated the view
|
|
out the carriage window, stifling a yawn.
|
|
Trevin and Giles began talking among themselves. Christabel sat
|
|
silently with her hands clenched in her lap, feeling a little stung by
|
|
Joya's aloof manner. It was clear that the blond girl considered herself
|
|
the center of her own social circle, and that she saw Christabel as
|
|
unworthy of being a part of it. But in working at the tavern, Christabel
|
|
had encountered people like Joya on a few occasions, and had a bit of an
|
|
idea of how to deal with such folk.
|
|
"That's a very pretty gown you're wearing, Joya," Christabel
|
|
remarked. The small girl turned away from the window, eyebrows raised.
|
|
"Why ... thank you," she said after a moment.
|
|
"I especially admire the embroidering on the collar. Did you do
|
|
that yourself?"
|
|
Joya glanced down at her gown and replied, "No -- actually, it was
|
|
made for me."
|
|
"It suits you quite well."
|
|
A slight smile tugged at the corners of Joya's mouth. "That's nice
|
|
of you to say, Christabel," she said.
|
|
|
|
The carriage dropped them off at the edge of Bannon's Field, which
|
|
was already filling with people. The four youths passed through an iron
|
|
gate in the low stone wall bordering the field and walked toward the
|
|
large white canvas tent that was set up a short distance away.
|
|
Christabel estimated that it could hold a good number of people, but
|
|
certainly not the entire crowd that was presently gathering behind the
|
|
rope barrier that stretched for several yards in front of the tent. A
|
|
purple pennant fluttered from the conical top of the huge canopy, and
|
|
the symbol of the traveling troupe -- a unicorn inside a ring of fire --
|
|
was emblazoned on either side of the entrance. And back beyond the tent
|
|
was a collection of wooden wagons that also bore the unicorn symbol.
|
|
Christabel held onto Trevin's arm as they walked across the thick
|
|
grass of the field, and slowed her pace until the two of them lagged
|
|
behind Joya and Giles.
|
|
"Why didn't you tell me you knew Joya Faulken?" Christabel
|
|
whispered.
|
|
"She asked me not to," Trevin replied simply. "She told me I could
|
|
bring anyone I wanted, so long as I didn't mention her name."
|
|
"How do you even know her? Has her family started buying wine from
|
|
your father's shop?"
|
|
Trevin shook his head and explained that he had met Giles, who was
|
|
betrothed to Joya, at an archery tournament the previous month. The two
|
|
of them began spending time together at the Faulken estate practicing
|
|
archery, and when Joya expressed an interest in attending the traveling
|
|
show Giles had convinced her to allow Trevin to accompany them.
|
|
"So why hasn't Giles ever come with you to the tavern?" Christabel
|
|
asked.
|
|
Trevin cocked his head and grinned wryly. "Joya won't let him. She
|
|
says that -- " he lowered his voice and affected a haughty tone --
|
|
'common establishments are for the common folk.'"
|
|
Christabel giggled. "If that's the way she's bent, I can't imagine
|
|
how she'll bear sitting among us common folk."
|
|
By now they were nearing the tent. Several tall, muscular men stood
|
|
at intervals along the rope, carefully watching the crowd. They all wore
|
|
swords, and their dark blue uniforms -- guard's uniforms, Christabel
|
|
noted -- bore the unicorn-and-ring design of the traveling troupe.
|
|
As the foursome picked their way past the townsfolk who sat upon
|
|
spread blankets or the ground itself, a piercing whistle sounded above
|
|
the murmuring of the assembly. Giles acknowledged the whistler with a
|
|
wave and motioned for Christabel and Trevin to follow.
|
|
A few moments later they came to a section to the left of the tent
|
|
entrance where several wooden benches had been arranged in a line. All
|
|
of them were occupied except one that seemed to be guarded by a large,
|
|
brawny youth dressed in padded leather armor. Beside him stood a tall
|
|
dark-haired girl wearing a loose white tunic and a pair of definitely
|
|
unladylike brown linen trousers.
|
|
Trevin and Giles exchanged hearty greetings and gripped forearms
|
|
with the leather-clad youth, while the tall girl gave Joya a hug that
|
|
nearly lifted her off the ground. Trevin introduced Christabel to Linc,
|
|
the son of the captain of the town guard, and his half-sister Kharsti.
|
|
"About time you all arrived," Linc rumbled to Trevin as the six of
|
|
them sat down on the bench. "Don't know how much longer I could've held
|
|
our place. Someone actually offered to pay us if we let 'em take it!"
|
|
Kharsti playfully punched her brother on the shoulder. "And he was
|
|
going to take the money but not let the poor geebs have the bench!" she
|
|
said with a laugh.
|
|
Giles pointed to the tent and said, "I say they've got a dragon in
|
|
there. That's why they need those guards, I'm sure of it."
|
|
"Couldn't be a dragon," said Linc. "No one's seen a live one in
|
|
years. A two-headed jantral -- now that'd be something worth showing all
|
|
over the kingdom!"
|
|
"Or maybe a giant rat," Joya said sardonically.
|
|
The speculation continued until a burst of white light in the sky,
|
|
accompanied by a sharp trumpet fanfare, silenced the crowd. Everyone
|
|
looked up as a glowing white sphere shot up from behind the tent and
|
|
silently exploded over the audience in a brilliant cascade of silver
|
|
sparks.
|
|
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Joya, clapping her hands.
|
|
As if the light was a signal, the guards drew back from the rope
|
|
barrier and took up positions close to the tent. Another sphere of
|
|
light, yellow this time, shot high into the air and plummeted to the
|
|
ground in front of the pavilion. The crowd gasped collectively as the
|
|
sphere burst into a thick cloud of yellow smoke. Another fanfare
|
|
sounded, and a broad-shouldered man stepped out of the cloud. He was
|
|
clad in a gaudy vest and billowy pantaloons, and he smiled widely behind
|
|
a thick black mustache.
|
|
"Good people of Bannon's Landing!" he shouted in a deep, clear
|
|
voice. "My name is Rushike, and I bring to you from the corners of the
|
|
kingdom the most amazing display of wonder and spectacle you have ever
|
|
seen! I bid you welcome, and present to you the Grand Players of
|
|
Baranur!" He threw up his arms and a dazzling red light shone forth from
|
|
his body. The tent flaps flew back and a procession of jugglers,
|
|
tumblers, dancers, and other colorful characters streamed out past the
|
|
troupe master and spilled onto the field, capering and cavorting to the
|
|
cheers of the audience. The last to emerge were the musicians, who moved
|
|
off to one side of the tent.
|
|
Rushike lowered his arms, and the musicians ceased playing. The red
|
|
light suffusing him shifted to gold.
|
|
"And providing the fantastic illuminations you have seen but a mere
|
|
glimmer of -- the lithe and lovely Arwenna Prysm, illusionist of
|
|
Corvaira and light-shaper of the mystic realms!" The musicians struck up
|
|
an expectant melody as the troupe master flung his arms to his left. The
|
|
golden glow surrounding him seemed to flow from his body like a liquid
|
|
and stream out from his fingertips, collecting in a sphere that hung in
|
|
the air.
|
|
When the glow had drained from him, the golden sphere took on a
|
|
human shape, slowly solidifying into the form of a young woman. She was
|
|
dressed a white silk gown that fit close about her lean body, and she
|
|
wore a jewel-studded circlet in her short amber hair. With a
|
|
tight-lipped smile, the young woman curtsied to the awestruck crowd and
|
|
took Rushike's hand.
|
|
"And now," said the troupe master, "let the amusements begin!"
|
|
Another trumpet fanfare sounded, and Arwenna Prysm made a complex
|
|
gesture with her free hand. The sky above the white pavilion seemed to
|
|
shatter into a cloud of glittering silver particles which briefly formed
|
|
the outline of the unicorn-and-ring symbol before fading away.
|
|
Christabel was so utterly captivated by the marvelous display that
|
|
she almost didn't notice Trevin nudging her. She tore her gaze away from
|
|
the spectacle and looked at him almost with annoyance. He asked her what
|
|
she thought, and she replied that it was beyond anything she had ever
|
|
seen in her life.
|
|
|
|
Once the troupe members had filed back into the tent, Rushike
|
|
called them out one by one, the musicians providing appropriate
|
|
accompaniment. The jugglers (including the one who had visited the Orb
|
|
and Claw) tossed wooden rings, knives, flaming torches, and pottery
|
|
vases back and forth to each other. A trio of young girls in flowing
|
|
Lashkirian garb performed the traditional Snake Dance of the desert
|
|
clans, while Arwenna cast shimmering snake images over their heads. A
|
|
jester came out with an endearing group of trained cats, then a bard
|
|
gave a moving rendition of "The Maiden in the Mirror."
|
|
During a lull in the proceedings, food vendors circulated through
|
|
the crowd. Trevin bought sugared fruits for Christabel and himself,
|
|
while Linc and Kharsti opted for the dried meat strips. Joya wrinkled
|
|
her nose at the thought of eating without the benefit of a table and a
|
|
place setting, and discouraged Giles from getting something for himself.
|
|
Christabel felt sorry for him as he sat glumly watching the others eat,
|
|
so she contrived to distract Joya while Trevin slipped Giles some of
|
|
their treats.
|
|
The show continued. A pair of leather-clad warriors engaged each
|
|
other in a mock duel, the jester and one of the jugglers did a comical
|
|
routine, the bard returned for another song, then a group of acrobats
|
|
performed an amazing set of physical feats that culminated with all of
|
|
them bounding though a series of flaming hoops in rapid succession.
|
|
When the thunderous applause finally died down, Rushike stepped
|
|
before the crowd and announced that the show was over.
|
|
"But," he said, holding up his hands, "I know that some of you have
|
|
been wondering what lies within our tent. All that I may now tell you is
|
|
that it contains a great and ancient mystery from the deep forests of
|
|
the Darst Range. For those of you who wish to discover the truth, all
|
|
that I ask is a mere Sterling piece, and a moment to prepare. For the
|
|
rest, I humbly thank you for your kind attendance, and wish you a
|
|
glorious evening." He went on to say that the troupe would be in town
|
|
for two more days, and that donations would be humbly accepted. As the
|
|
townsfolk stirred to their feet, Arwenna cast the unicorn symbol above
|
|
the tent as the musicians played a lively processional tune.
|
|
"So, what say you all?" Linc asked, stretching. "Do we find out
|
|
what the great mystery is?"
|
|
Giles pursed his lips and said, "Whatever it is, I would hope it's
|
|
worth the cost."
|
|
Trevin clapped him on the back. "How about if the rest of us go in,
|
|
and tell you about it later?"
|
|
Joya made an exasperated sound. "You have money enough, Giles,
|
|
especially after not spending it on food. Now do come along." Without
|
|
waiting for his reply, she started off toward the entrance to the troupe
|
|
tent. Linc and Kharsti laughed as Giles sputtered helplessly, then
|
|
followed him as he ran to catch up with Joya.
|
|
"It looks like she's decided for us," Trevin said with a chuckle.
|
|
Christabel said nothing as she glanced around and saw that the majority
|
|
of the audience was heading back to town. She wondered if she shouldn't
|
|
ask Trevin to take her home now; even though she very much wanted to see
|
|
for herself what the tent contained, she didn't want to exhaust his
|
|
generosity by expecting him to pay for her admission -- a silver
|
|
Sterling was indeed a week's wages!
|
|
The young man seemed to read her mind, however, and assured her
|
|
that he could afford the cost of entry for them both. "And if this great
|
|
secret is even half of what Rushike claims," Trevin continued, "I'd
|
|
consider the money more than well spent!"
|
|
Christabel looked at him with gratitude, and on impulse kissed him
|
|
quickly on the cheek. A wide smile crossed Trevin's face as the two of
|
|
them joined the small group of people waiting to be admitted into the
|
|
tent.
|
|
|
|
The troupe workers began removing the wooden benches and taking
|
|
them around to the back of the tent. Curious, Christabel left Trevin's
|
|
side and started to follow one of the workers. She managed to glimpse a
|
|
tall wagon being drawn up to the rear of the pavilion before a guard
|
|
stopped her and escorted her back to the group. A short while later,
|
|
Rushike emerged and declared that everything was ready. Another guard
|
|
collected the admission fee as each person passed into the great tent.
|
|
The interior was spacious, and illuminated by lanterns mounted atop
|
|
tall metal poles set at intervals around a huge canvas-covered
|
|
cylindrical structure. The wooden benches were arranged in a half-circle
|
|
around the structure, and as the group sat down Christabel thought she
|
|
detected a faint musky odor in the air.
|
|
A few guards strolled around as the rest of the people entered and
|
|
took seats. An almost palpable sense of excitement filled the pavilion,
|
|
and people spoke in hushed whispers. Giles still clung to his belief
|
|
that they were going to display a dragon -- "a small dragon", he amended
|
|
upon entering the tent.
|
|
Christabel held onto Trevin's arm but paid no attention to the
|
|
speculation of the others. She reasoned that whatever was about to be
|
|
revealed had to fit into that wagon behind the tent. The presence of
|
|
guards meant that it was either very precious, or possibly dangerous.
|
|
She was jolted out of her thoughts by a loud trumpet fanfare.
|
|
Looking around, she saw that the tent entrance had been closed, and that
|
|
the benches were now all occupied. The musicians stood somewhere to her
|
|
left, behind the seated audience. She also saw Arwenna Prysm standing
|
|
almost out of sight to the rear of the tent; she was still wearing the
|
|
circlet but was now dressed in a gown of mourning blue.
|
|
A moment later, the light from the lanterns dimmed. Rushike stepped
|
|
before the crowd, a somber look on his face.
|
|
"Good people of Bannon's Landing, I thank you again for coming," he
|
|
said gravely. "What you are about to see has, until recently, been a
|
|
great and mysterious legend from times long past. Many have sought it
|
|
out, but few have returned to tell the tale." He paused and looked out
|
|
over the assembly. "What you are about to see is not for the weak of
|
|
heart or frail of spirit. If you are easily frightened, you may leave
|
|
now and your money will be returned." Several long moments passed, but
|
|
no one moved.
|
|
"Very well." Rushike raised his arms and intoned, "The ancients
|
|
called it the Kushago. The elven tribes called it The Forest Lurker. But
|
|
all men know it as -- BEAST!"
|
|
The canvas was suddenly pulled away, and even in the dim light
|
|
Christabel saw that it had covered a high iron cage. Something loomed
|
|
within its confines, something large and hulking and shadowy. Suddenly
|
|
the lantern light flared to full illumination, and what she saw caused
|
|
her heart to freeze.
|
|
An enormous man-like creature stood motionless in the center of the
|
|
cage. It was covered with thick brown-black hair, and was half again the
|
|
height of a normal man. Its body was well-muscled, and its arms looked
|
|
powerful enough to smash through stone. A pair of dark, brooding eyes
|
|
were set deep in its skull, and a gold collar with a single purple jewel
|
|
was fitted about its neck. The creature's legs were shackled to a large
|
|
iron ring set into the ground, and its loins were just barely visible
|
|
through the thick mat of hair covering its groin.
|
|
"In the name of Stevene!" Trevin breathed, and out of the corner of
|
|
her eye Christabel saw him make a holy sign. She pressed herself close
|
|
to him, wanting to shut her eyes but unable to turn away from the sight
|
|
of the creature.
|
|
"Do not be afraid!" said Rushike. "At all times it is under the
|
|
control of Thavolous, our master mage from the beyond the southern
|
|
desert." Christabel looked to where the troupe master pointed, and
|
|
through the bars of the cage she saw a thin middle-aged man standing at
|
|
the back of the tent. He wore an ill-fitting gray mage's robe, and
|
|
around his neck was a gold collar exactly like the one worn by the
|
|
beast.
|
|
Rushike nodded to the mage, who closed his eyes and placed both
|
|
hands on his gold collar. The gemstone set into it became colorless, and
|
|
the jewel on the beast's collar also turned clear. Instantly, the
|
|
creature stirred as if awakening, and let out a fierce roar. Several
|
|
people screamed and bolted up from their benches, and the beast
|
|
immediately became motionless once again. Rushike quickly assured the
|
|
audience that the beast was under the mage's firm control and could not
|
|
break out of the cage. He also indicated that more guards were waiting
|
|
just outside in the extremely remote chance that anything should go
|
|
wrong.
|
|
Once the audience was calmed, Thavolous again released the beast
|
|
from its magical immobility. It howled with rage and surged forward
|
|
against its chains. Christabel felt a moment of terror and involuntarily
|
|
shrank back, but the beast was drawn up well short of the bars. Her
|
|
heart pounded in her chest and she yearned to flee from the tent, but
|
|
she felt as frozen as if the mage had cast the immobility spell upon
|
|
her.
|
|
As the creature roared and pounded the air with its huge fists,
|
|
Rushike told of how a band of hunters, aided by a forest mage, had
|
|
sought the Kushago near the mountains to the east of Bannon's Landing. A
|
|
recent drought had apparently forced the creature to forage near the
|
|
village of Skye, where it was sighted numerous times before finally
|
|
being captured. The troupe master, upon seeing the Kushago for himself,
|
|
had purchased the creature from the hunters and included it in his show.
|
|
By this time, some of the townsfolk had lost their initial fear and
|
|
began taunting the creature. One of them even threw a rotted apple into
|
|
the cage; it struck the Kushago on the head, causing the beast to cry
|
|
out with fury and strain mightily against the chains. Rushike sternly
|
|
warned the audience against such behavior, and quickly gestured to
|
|
Thavolous. The Kushago's collar stone instantly flared red, causing the
|
|
beast to make another cry -- this time of pain. A sudden convulsion
|
|
caused it to crash to its knees. A moment later it recovered and quietly
|
|
staggered back to the center of the cage.
|
|
Christabel's mouth dropped open in disbelief, her fear turning to
|
|
outrage. What right did they have to take a creature from its home and
|
|
torture it in this manner? She tugged on Trevin's sleeve and told him
|
|
that she wanted to leave immediately, but her words were drowned out by
|
|
the cheers of the townsfolk upon seeing the beast forced into
|
|
submission.
|
|
Rushike grinned broadly and motioned for quiet. "And next," he
|
|
boomed, "I present to you a very brave young man who will do what few
|
|
men would ever dare. A great welcome for Darion of Hawksbridge!" The
|
|
musicians played a heroic melody as a flap at the back of the tent
|
|
opened and a broad-chested youth of about Christabel's age strode
|
|
through. His dark brown hair brushed his muscular shoulders, and he wore
|
|
an open leather vest that revealed his firm, tanned chest. As he came
|
|
around to the front of the cage he smiled and acknowledged the crowd's
|
|
applause by raising the short wooden staff that he carried.
|
|
The troupe master beamed as he announced that the young man would
|
|
fight the Kushago. The rules of the combat were that Darion must strike
|
|
the beast a total of three times in the chest in order to win. "And if
|
|
the creature should strike him but once ...." Rushike's voice trailed
|
|
off. "Well, once is all the Kushago needs."
|
|
He clapped Darion on the shoulder, and the young fighter went
|
|
around to the back of the cage where the door was located. Thavolous
|
|
immobilized the beast as a guard unlocked the door and let Darion
|
|
inside.
|
|
"Skulls and blood, but this should a good fight!" Linc shouted with
|
|
glee.
|
|
As soon as the cage door was locked behind him, Darion took up a
|
|
fighting stance. The Kushago stirred and let out a roar at the sight of
|
|
the young man. The crowd let out a similar roar, and the noise caused
|
|
Christabel to put her hands over her ears.
|
|
Darion circled the beast warily, twirling his staff. The Kushago
|
|
watched him, growling ominously. Darion feinted and leaped back as the
|
|
beast lunged. The leg chains stopped its charge, almost causing it to
|
|
fall. The youth thrust several more feints at the creature and gauged
|
|
its response. The Kushago seemed to learn from its mistake and always
|
|
halted before being drawn up by the chains. Finally, Darion charged at
|
|
the creature's right side. The Kushago lashed out a huge fist, but at
|
|
the last moment Darion slid to the ground feet first and swung the staff
|
|
up and into the beast's chest. He rolled over and was up and away before
|
|
the Kushago could react. The townsfolk yelled wildly, and Darion made a
|
|
quick bow as he scrambled around the cage.
|
|
For the next several minutes, the man and the beast continued their
|
|
dance of combat. At one point, Darion slammed the Kushago soundly on the
|
|
buttocks, drawing a huge laugh from the crowd. Another time, the Kushago
|
|
managed to trip Darion and threw its whole body at him. Darion rolled
|
|
away a scant moment before the beast would have landed crushingly on top
|
|
of him. Eventually, the young fighter scored another hit by going into a
|
|
diving roll straight at the beast, shooting to his feet, thumping the
|
|
staff into the beast's chest, then backflipping away. A few moments
|
|
later, he threw himself to the ground on his back, just outside the
|
|
reach of the chains. The Kushago rushed over to him, stopped and raised
|
|
its massive fists. As it bent over him to strike, Darion flung the staff
|
|
up and solidly struck the chest of the beast. At that instant Thavolous
|
|
froze the Kushago; Darion pushed himself to his feet and raised the
|
|
staff in victory. The crowd cheered and applauded.
|
|
When the young fighter had left the tent, Christabel again told
|
|
Trevin that she wanted to leave. Trevin shook his head and said that the
|
|
show wasn't yet over. Before she could reply, the troupe master called
|
|
Arwenna Prysm to his side and announced that the final act was to begin.
|
|
The mage Thavolous unfroze the beast and had it return to the
|
|
center of the cage. Arwenna then reached into a pocket of her gown and
|
|
withdrew four small figurines, vaguely dog-like in shape. She held them
|
|
up for all to see, then turned and tossed them one by one into the cage,
|
|
evenly spacing them around the beast. A moment later, the figurines
|
|
shimmered and transformed into four large black wolves. Rushike and
|
|
Arwenna moved off to the side as the townsfolk gave another cheer and
|
|
surged to their feet. Horror-struck, Christabel watched as the wolves
|
|
circled the Kushago and leaped to the attack.
|
|
The air was soon filled with animal snarls, roars of pain, and the
|
|
frenzied yells of the crowd. The wolves lunged and snapped at the
|
|
Kushago, who kicked and punched back with obvious desperation.
|
|
Christabel felt a sharp twist in her stomach as one wolf managed to leap
|
|
up and sink its long fangs into the beast's left thigh. The Kushago
|
|
screamed, grabbed up the wolf, then savagely bit into the animal's back.
|
|
There was a cracking sound, and the wolf went limp. The Kushago then
|
|
used the body like a club and swung wildly at the three remaining
|
|
wolves. Finally, the beast hurled the wolf corpse away. It bounced off
|
|
the bars, then transformed back into a figurine as it hit the ground.
|
|
After this, the crowd seemed to take the side of the Kushago. They
|
|
cheered whenever the beast managed to strike or kick one of the wolves.
|
|
Still, the wolves had the advantage of numbers, and the Kushago was
|
|
forced to keep moving. At one point, two wolves rushed at the beast from
|
|
the front, while the third attacked from the rear. The beast seemed to
|
|
sense this and leaped aside. The wolves collided, and the Kushago took
|
|
advantage of the momentary confusion to stamp down hard on the nearest
|
|
one. There was the sound of bones breaking, and the wolf let out a
|
|
plaintive howl as it flopped onto it side. The other two wolves
|
|
retreated as the Kushago picked up their injured companion and twisted
|
|
its head from its body.
|
|
Christabel gasped in shock and staggered to her feet. It made no
|
|
difference that the wolf immediately reverted to figurine form in the
|
|
beast's hands -- she had seen far too much.
|
|
She pushed her way out of the tent and ran blindly across the
|
|
field, sinking to her knees a short distance away. She spent several
|
|
moments sucking in huge breaths of air in an effort to calm herself.
|
|
With a trembling hand she wiped away the small tears that had begun to
|
|
form near the corners of her eyes. It was all so cruel, so horrible, so
|
|
violent!
|
|
Suddenly she felt a touch on her shoulder. She involuntarily
|
|
flinched away, but saw that it was only Trevin. "Christabel, what's
|
|
wrong?" he asked, concern plain on his face.
|
|
"Nothing, I -- I just ... " She swallowed hard. "I couldn't watch
|
|
that anymore."
|
|
Trevin knelt down beside her and gently squeezed her shoulder. "I'm
|
|
sorry. If I had known ... "
|
|
Christabel nodded and forced a smile. "You couldn't have. It was a
|
|
great secret."
|
|
"Of course." He glanced back at the tent. "Well, I can take you
|
|
home now, if you wish."
|
|
She shook her head. "I'll be fine. We should just wait here for the
|
|
others."
|
|
|
|
The two of them sat in silence until the crowd began trickling out
|
|
from the tent. Soon, the other members of their group approached.
|
|
Kharsti was the first one to reach them, and she asked if Christabel was
|
|
all right. Linc and Giles were talking animatedly about the Kushago's
|
|
fight with the wolves and did not notice Trevin and Christabel until
|
|
Joya loudly cleared her throat.
|
|
"Blood and skulls, but that was a glorious battle!" Linc exclaimed
|
|
to Trevin. "Why'd you leave before the end? You missed it when --" He
|
|
stopped abruptly as Kharsti elbowed him the ribs and informed him of
|
|
Christabel's discomfort. Linc apologized and suggested that they all
|
|
have a drink or two at a nearby tavern before returning home. Everyone
|
|
agreed, and the group headed toward the gate at the edge of the field.
|
|
As they walked along, images of the Kushago's brutal treatment
|
|
refused to leave Christabel's mind. The "show" was like a bear-baiting,
|
|
but worse because of the collar that inflicted pain and controlled
|
|
movement. And even though the troupe master had called it a beast, the
|
|
Kushago seemed closer to a human than an animal. But the worst part of
|
|
it, she felt, was how much the people appeared to enjoy the vicious
|
|
spectacle.
|
|
A knot of conviction formed within her and grew stronger with each
|
|
passing moment. The mistreatment of the Kushago could not be allowed to
|
|
continue; Christabel firmly resolved to do whatever she could to try and
|
|
stop it.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|