Ben's NaNoWriMo Log

Chapter 1 added Sep 23, 2005
The last barrel landed in the wagon bed with a thump. "Be careful, Sarah," said Harold. "You wouldn't want to spill the King's beer." The mock gravity of her father's voice made Sarah giggle. "I'll make sure it all gets there unharmed, Daddy." She replaced the slats at the rear of the wagon, securing the neat rows of barrels inside. Harold handed her the mule's lead and stretched his arms up above his head. "I'm glad you're old enough to make these deliveries, so I can go back to bed. Will you be back for lunch?" "Probably not. Lucinda will want the company, I'm sure." She kissed her father on the cheek and started the mule in the direction of the street. In the last year since she turned sixteen, she had taken on a lot of new responsibilities, helping her parents around the brewery. With responsibility had come moments of freedom, like these early morning deliveries. It was hardly a difficult task aside from the loading and unloading; the mule knew the route by heart. Sarah strolled along before the wagon, hands clasped behind her back. The streets of Crown Bay were nearly empty, shrouded in a cool mist that had crept in from the sea during the night. The gray light of dawn revealed ghosts of buildings looming over the cobbled street. The winters on the bay were not so harsh as those further inland, but still they slowed the normal buzz of the city to a muted hum. The snows were thawing now, and the rushing of the river through the city's heart was bringing it back to life. As she passed through Oxblood Square, Sarah could see a few merchants setting out their wares for the morning market. Even in the cold months times were not so hard for the people of Crown Bay. As he father would say, "Where the Crown goes, so go the crowns." King Stephen III kept his court in the city, and his presence was an indisputable boon for the economy. Stephen had been king as long as Sarah could remember, but her parents had told her stories of harder times, when the seat of power had been elsewhere. Sarah Caldwell's family had been supplying the King's beer since it was the Count's beer. When Queen Amelia died without an heir, Stephen -- then John Bafford, Count Falcastle -- had come out on top in the year long war of succession. The noble families of Jal Kufri were notoriously prone to such infertility, so armed conflict was a fact of life. Stephen, like many such warrior kings, had mellowed over the years, and had become a much beloved monarch to his people. The mist was beginning to clear as the sun rose over the city wall. Sarah could see the familiar shape of Hightower, with its eponymous spire rivaling the turrets of the castle itself. It was the King's ancestral home, and still his favored residence when not holding formal court or waging war. Sarah led the wagon around the back to the walled courtyard. The guards let her by with a nod and a smile; she was here often enough to go unchallenged. She guided the wagon to the cellar entrance at the rear of the manor. The stable boy was already there to remove the mule's harness. Sarah opened the cellar door and began hauling her cargo down into the chill. A couple of years ago even these small barrels would have seemed an impossible burden, but she had grown quite a bit of late. Like her mother Frieda she was still small and slim, but honest labor had rewarded her with a certain amount of muscle. The last barrel she hoisted onto her shoulder as she opened the door to the kitchen. "Oh no, not that stuff again," moaned Lucinda as she held the door open. She was the same age as Sarah, but that was their only similarity. Lucinda was wide hipped and plump, with a bosom barely contained by her bodice, while Sarah could pass as a boy if she weren't in a dress. Dusky skin and raven curls contrasted starkly with pale Sarah's straight blonde locks. Despite their differences, however, the two had been friends since they were born. Sarah lowered the barrel onto a counter. "It's winter beer, Lucy, perfect for keeping you warm on a cold night." Lucinda pouted. "Yes, but it'll be spring and we'll still be drinking it." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled. "And I certainly don't need beer to keep warm at night." Sarah giggled. Lucinda's tales of court intrigue had been supplemented by more lascivious fare in recent years. Sarah was always eager to hear of her friend's exploits; her own romantic adventures were purely imaginary. "Where's Cook?" asked Sarah. The kitchen seemed empty without Lucinda's mother bustling around. "She must have gone to the market. I can handle breakfast if she's not back in time. She's taught me tricks to make the best of what's at hand." Lucinda cocked her head as she heard her name being shouted from out in the hall. "Ah, the call of duty. You make yourself at home. I'll be back in a flash." Sarah perched herself on a stool. Lucinda had left a loaf of bread out on the table along with a pot of unidentified preserves. Trusting to Cook's ability to make the summer's bounty last through the winter intact, Sarah proceeded to cut off a thick slice of bread and slather it with what turned out to be blueberry jam. As she took the first bite of her makeshift breakfast, Sarah heard raised voices from the great hall. Lucinda had long ago shown her how to peek through the cracks around the kitchen door, and she went there now to see what the excitement was about. The walls of the vaulted hall were hung with heavy tapestries, and ornately carved trestle tables were pushed out of the way at the sides of the room. In the early winter morning there was normally no business to conduct, but a man in a dark cloak was kneeling before the throne. Standing beside him was a man Sarah easily recognized as William Arden, Count Dunborne. the king's chief advisor. The king himself was sitting on his throne, but he was slumped to one side. The view afforded Sarah through her peephole was narrow, but she was able to make out blood on the naked swords of the two guards flanking the throne. As she watched, they moved out into the room and other guards drew steel against them. The battle was impossible to follow, as both sides were wearing identical livery. Inexplicably, Count Arden and the black-cloaked supplicant stood motionless amid the carnage. Sarah was horrified by the sight, but her feet seemed frozen in place. She looked around the room as best she could for Lucinda. She caught sight of a crumpled form off to one side of the room, in a dress the same color as Lucinda's save for the vast red stain on the bodice. As she watched, the guardsmen traded blows. Some of them called out for help, but none seemed to be forthcoming. In what seemed like hours, but what more likely only a few heartbeats, the massacre was over. A handful of bloodied men stood before Arden and the stranger and bowed. Sarah strained to hear what was being said, though her heart screamed at her to run. "It is done, my lord," said one of the guards. "And the other servants?" asked Arden. For all his political clout, Sarah had never really given the man much thought; he was utterly average looking, sliding ungracefully into middle age. He was not known for his oratory, though most of what he had said in court was directly into the king's ear. "Dead," replied the guard. Sarah's heart sank. Somehow she knew that Cook was not running late at the market. The cloaked man finaly rose from his knees and turned. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, but Sarah could tell from the way the cloak hung that he was a man of some stature. The cloak parted as a pair of pale hands emerged from beneath, palms forward toward the line of guards. The shadow beneath his hood was pierced by blazing white light streaming from the eyes hidden within. The men before him gasped and trembled as they stood rigidly, bathed in the unearthly brilliance. The Count's sword rasped free of its sheath for the first time. He went down the line of transfixed guards, hacking and thrusting clumsily until they all lay dead at his feet. He put away his still bloody sword, looking down at the pile of bodies as the light faded. The bloaked man stepped toward the bodies and stooped down, taking up one of their swords. Quick as a blink, he rose and slashed across Arden's arm. The Count cried out and clapped his hand to the bloody wound. "What did you do that for?" The cloaked man dropped the sword to the floor. "No one would believe that you survived without a scratch." He reached up and drew back his hood, revealing a long, pallid face with close-cropped dark hair. Sarah recognized him as a relatively new face around court; Lucinda had called him Monsignor Ignatius. His inky black vestments marked him as a member of the Holy Order of St. Thrain -- an Inquisitor. The Tavian Church had been involved in the governance of Jal Kufri to some degree ever since the Great Crusade nearly a thousand years before. Before the coming of Tavion's grace, the Kufriti had been nothing more than warring clans of barbarians. The Bright Lord's influence had transformed them into one of the most powerful nations in the world. Even those who spoke ill of the Church grudgingly admitted its role in the nation's formation. The stability brought by the Church had to be maintained, however, and amid the brightly colored robes of the Tavian clergy lurked the black blot of the Inquisition. Sarah knew that she should have fled long ago, but she was as transfixed by the scene as the slain traitors had been by their unexpected rapture. Still clutching his wound, Arden looked around the blood-spattered hall. "Is everything in place for our next step?" Ignatius nodded. "There is sufficient evidence to prove that Stephen was killed by a heretical sect." "Good, good." Arden nodded as he began to pace back and forth. "Sherwold and Greybury will fall in line with the rest of the eastern counties when they hear news of this. I should be able to gather enough support in the west to gain the throne without major opposition." He stopped and glanced over at Ignatius. "Once I get the backing of the Church, of course." The Inquisitor nodded grimly. "Stephen lacked the vigilance to protect the souls of his people. He allowed heretics and heathens to flourish, much to the dismay of our Order, and the Church at large. The Holy Emperor will give you his blessing, have no fear." He closed his eyes and placed one hand on the golden sun disk hanging on a chain around his neck. His other hand reached out in front of him. "What are you doing?" asked Arden, taking a step back from the Inquisitor. "I am only confirming that none survive within this place. We must not let anything jeopardize your ascent." Ignatius turned slowly in a circle, his hand held palm outward. Sarah's breath caught in her throat. The pale hand turned slowly in her direction, then stopped. Ignatius opened his eyes. Sarah ran.
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Chapter 10 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as they approached the northern city gate; the doors were still open. They hurried past the guards, who gave them nothing more than a nod as they passed. A winding road lay before them, sloping up into the mountains. "I'm so sorry," said Molly as they started up the road. "I was supposed to be protecting you and instead I put you in more danger. I... I guess I just wasn't prepared to see this place again." The road forked ahead of them. The smaller branch kept going in the same direction, winding its way into a narrow canyon that Sarah figured must be the start of Elizar's Gap. The main road veered off to their right, heading toward a collection of buildings higher up the mountain. The road in that direction was heavily rutted by the wheels of carts and wagons. Molly pointed up the right hand road as they passed. "My father died in that mine when I was thirteen. By the time I was fourteen, my mother died of fever. With my father no longer pulling copper out of the ground for him, the mine boss so no reason to help us. When my mother was gone as well, I was fostered to an old friend of the boss's." She grimaced at the thought. "The old man had no desire for a daughter, of course. He only ever saw me as a slave. Or a whore. "I wasn't about to let that bastard have his way with me, though. My parents were dead, but at least they were free. When my new 'father' tried to put his hands on me, I hurt him -- hurt him bad. And then, of course, I ran for my life. I had no idea where I was going, but as long as I died free I would count myself lucky. I don't know how, but I managed to get to Silverwell. If Master Eldridge hadn't taken me in..." She shrugged. "At any rate, I don't intend to set foot in Coppergate ever again." Syphar turned to look over his shoulder. "I think they may have other ideas." Sarah glanced back to see what Syphar was talking about. A dozen men on horses were coming up the road behind them. They were waving swords and clubs above their heads, and Sarah could hear their shouts and whoops echoing from the mountain sides. Molly dug her heels into Lightning's flanks, and the horse shot forward like her namesake. Sarah mimicked Molly, and was soon dashing into the Gap beside her, along with Syphar. "They know this way as well as I do," grunted Molly. "I doubt we can outrun them; their horses are fresher than ours." She looked back over her shoulder at her friends and the pursuing band of horsemen. "I've failed you, Sarah. I'm sorry." "I was lucky to get this far," replied Sarah. She clung to Brand's reins as they rounded a tight curve in the trail. The way ahead gave her little hope; the looming canyon walls left them only one way to go. Syphar pulled up beside Sarah, flashing a smile at her. "Don't dig our graves quite yet, ladies." He held out his hand, and a stone the size of Sarah's fist leaped into his hand from the trail below. Holding onto the reins with one hand, he held the stone in his other palm. Sarah could see the glow of his ring shining on Raven's withers, and the stone began to float above his hand. his fingers curled slightly, and the stone began to spin. Faster and faster it spun, as the glow from his ring grew brighter. He looked up, and Sarah followed his gaze to a snow covered outcropping of rock just up the trail. "Don't stop. Don't slow down," said Syphar. The spinning stone streaked from his hand, slamming into the base of the outcropping. As they were passing directly beneath the hanging stone, Sarah could hear a deep crack, like the bones of the earth breaking. She clutched at Brand's mane as he raced ever faster. The rumble of stone and ice sliding down the canyon wall echoed deafeningly in her ears. She glanced back over her shoulder. She caught a brief glimpse of the pursuing men trying desperately to control their wheeling and bucking horses before they were blocked from sight by a vast avalanche. Thankfully, they hadn't been close enough to get caught in the direct path of the falling rock. She had no love for such men, but Sarah didn't think anyone deserved to be crushed to death like that. They slowed their horses back to a walk, men and beasts alike panting in the chill air. Molly shook her head in disbelief at Syphar. "That was impressive." Sarah nodded in agreement. "Couldn't you have just blasted the rock itself, though? You cut it awfully close there." "I could have," said Syphar, "but then they would have gone back with a story about a wizard rather than a freak avalanche." "Oh," Sarah shook her head slowly. "I didn't even think of that." Syphar looked back at the rubble filled canyon. "Well, no one is going to be following us that way for quite a while." Sarah looked at Syphar and smiled broadly. "You're right!" She turned her eyes toward the twisting mountain pass. It didn't seem nearly so grim as it had a few moments before.
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Chapter 11 added Sep 23, 2005
They rode slowly up into the mountains. Now that there was no active pursuit behind them, it was safer to let the horses go at a more sedate pace. The pass was still mostly covered with snow, though they crossed a few small trickles of melt water from higher slopes that caught the sun. Now that she had gotten used to it, Sarah was starting to appreciate the majestic beauty of the mountain country. She decided that reaching higher altitudes slowly and gradually was far superior to being magically transported to them from the sea coast. The first night in the Gap, Syphar repeated his performance from the Skytooth road. He built an ice shelter large enough for the three of them and their horses. The horses lay down together for warmth, and Molly slept nestled against Lightning's flank. Sarah and Syphar used their saddles as pillows and were kept quite comfortable by the cloaks they had taken from Skytooth. It was a restful night for all, all things considered, but they still rose early the next morning. They were no longer in immediate peril from human agencies, but they still had a hard and dangerous trek before them. "Elizar's Gap isn't used very often," explained Molly as they led their horses up a steep incline still knee deep with snow. "It saves almost two weeks over going around the mountains, but it's only clear enough for wagons for a few months each year. And if something unexpected happens," she indicated the silent peaks with a broad sweep of her hand, "there's not exactly a convenient wainwright nearby. Still, there are always a few people greedy or desperate enough to try it." Sarah looked up at the snowy slopes. The midday sun gleamed brightly, making her squint to keep from being blinded. A pair of hawks circled slowly overhead. Their cries echoed from the peaks on either side of the trail. "I think it's lovely," she said. "You don't have to worry about keeping warm, though," said Syphar. "And we haven't had to deal with any rock slides or avalanches yet." He grinned. "At least not natural ones." Molly pulled her heavy fur cloak tighter about her shoulders. "He's right. It's almost more dangerous now than in the dead of winter. The weather's not quite so cold, but the thaw can make for treacherous footing beneath the surface." Sarah nodded; she had stumbled more than a few times when the ground she had expected to step on had turned out to be an empty hole. "The cold weather drives wolves and wild cats down from the higher slopes as well, and if they're hungry enough they can be dangerous." She paused for a moment, then added: "There are stories of... other things, as well." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What sort of things?" Molly was silent for a couple of heartbeats, then shook her head and smiled. "Oh, just stories, you know. Tales to scare little children and keep them from wandering out into the wilderness. Probably just exaggerated accounts of bears and such." As the morning went by, the slope of the trail gradually lessened until it became nearly flat. The border between Jal Kufri and Ahandria was impossible to define out in the wilderness, but Sarah felt like she was nearing the end of her journey. The quiet was broken by a high pitched scream from up ahead. Sarah looked up to see Molly tumbling from her horse's back as the mare pitched forward into the deep white powder. The horse continued screaming as it thrashed in the snow, causing the other two to dance and toss their heads anxiously. Molly was on her feet almost as soon as she hit the ground. She rushed to the horse's side as fast as she could through the knee deep snow. "Lightning! Blast it, she must have hit a void." Sarah was having trouble controlling Brand, and scrambled down out of the saddle. As she started toward Molly, she felt something grab her ankle beneath the snow. "Molly!" she screamed, "Something's got me!" She tried to pull her leg free, but whatever was holding her would not yield. Drawing her rapier, Molly went to Sarah's aid. Sarah cursed herself for forgetting she had a sword as well, She pulled the blade free of its sheath and plunged it into the snow near her feet. She felt the hold on her loosen slightly, and managed to pull her foot free, stumbling backward through the snow. Syphar managed to gain control of Raven, guiding the horse toward a shelf of bare rock standing above the snow. As he was climbing down onto the stone, the horse jerked and bucked as something pulled at one of its hind legs. Syphar managed to get to his feet and turn around just as several creatures burst up through the snow. The six forms that leaped up looked like men, but their skin was a blotchy blue-gray. Frozen clothes hung from their limbs in tatters. Their clawed fingers reached toward warm flesh as they set their milky white eyes on Sarah and Molly. Sarah yelped as the thing before her extended its icy claws toward her face. She thrust the point of her blade at it, but the rapier barely chipped the creature's frozen flesh. Molly had similar ill luck with the blue skinned thing that had burst through the snow behind her. She changed tactics, delivering a overhand chop that sheared off the side of its face in a shower of glittering ice. "To me!" cried Syphar from his position on the high ground. He held forth his fist, and his ring flared a brilliant blue. The air warped and shimmered around him, and blue lightning arced toward the two creatures menacing Molly and Sarah. They opened their mouths in silent howls, backs arched in pain as patches of frozen flesh boiled away. Sarah and Molly pushed their way through the snow toward the bare rock. The ice creatures were less hampered than their prey, however, and the women were forced to constantly fend off their flailing claws. Molly grunted as icy fingers raked across her cheek; Sarah, despite her best efforts, received several slashes across her arms and back. Her cloak and dress were shredded and spotted with blood. Four of the creatures were occupied by the rending of the two fallen horses. The pristine white snow was quickly becoming a morass of slushy, steaming blood. Brand had wisely turned around and put as much distance as possible between himself and the slaughter. Syphar loosed another forked bolt of eldritch lightning, this time into the faces of the two creatures pursuing Sarah and Molly. As they clawed at their bubbling, steaming countenances, the two women they had been chasing scrambled up onto the rocks next to the wizard. The ice creatures still came at them, only slightly impaired by the loss of most of their heads. Now that they had the high ground and were free of the deep snow, it was easier for Sarah and Molly to dance away from the swinging claws. They rained blow after blow on the abominations, chipping and cracking away at their hands and arms. Soon, they had destroyed the creatures' arms entirely, though the walking torsos still tried to reach them. Meanwhile, the other ice creatures were still wallowing in the cooling blood of the horses. Syphar began collecting stones from nearby, placing them one at a time into the pal of his outstretched hand. He set each one spinning as he had done before, then loosed them like stooping eagles into the bodies of the blood soaked aberrations. Heads, shoulders, and hips shattered one after the other. Whether the things still moved or not was immaterial, as they lacked the ability to do any harm. Molly and Sarah had reduced their attackers to a similar state, though by more mundane means. As the last of the creatures fell beneath the snow, Sarah collapsed, panting, onto the flat stone that had become their fortress. She could feel the cold seeping into her flesh; the rending of her cloak must have shredded its magical weave as well. Molly jumped back down into the snow and picked her way through the mess that had once been her beloved horse. She retrieved the saddle bags from both Lightning and Raven, rooting through them for bandages. Syphar went after Brand, trying to calm the horse enough to bring him back. Guiding him through what was left of his old stable mates would be another challenge entirely. Molly squatted down next to Sarah. "How are you doing?" "C-cold," she replied, shivering. "That's not good. Are you feeling light headed?" Molly looked at the meager pile of bandages in her hands with concern in her eyes. "No, n-not bleeding t-to death," said Sarah, managing a grin. She showed Molly the holes ripped through her cloak. "Magic c-cloak's b-broken." Syphar had managed to retrieve Brand and make his way back the the flat stone. He put a handful of oats on the edge of the rocky shelf, which was incentive enough to keep the horse to remain despite the smell of blood. The wizard hopped back up next to the two women. He took off Sarah's ruined cloak and handed her his own. "As soon as Molly gets you patched back up, put that on." "W-what about you?" asked Sarah. Syphar took the brooch off of the blood stained cloak, and produced a couple of wool blankets from one of Raven's saddle bags. He draped them over his back and fastened them together at the shoulder with the brooch. "Not high fashion," he said, "but it'll keep me from freezing long enough to get down off this rock." Molly finished applying bandages to the worst of Sarah's cuts. Fortunately, most of them had been fairly shallow, calculated to bleed, not kill. She stood up and surveyed the ghastly scene. "I guess they weren't bears after all." She picked up the saddle bags and draped them over Brand's back. "Let's get moving. The further we are from this place, the happier I'll be."
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Chapter 12 added Sep 23, 2005
Fortunately, the far side of Elizar's Gap presented no great dangers to the weary travelers. With the loss of two of their horses, they were reduced to walking speed, though at least it was primarily downhill. They could see clouds breaking like waves on the north face of the mountains. The sun lasted longer on this side of the mountains, but, as dusk neared, the pile of clouds above their heads broke into a chill drizzle. As they descended through the pass they had begun to see small evergreen trees, and as they hurried forward through the rain they were relieved to find themselves soon beneath the sheltering limbs of a forest. There was no snow left at this altitude for Syphar to use to craft a shelter -- a moot point, as he was still tired from the battle with the ice creatures -- so they sought out a relatively dry place to camp beneath the thick green canopy. Molly collected enough dead wood to build a small fire, and they dried and warmed themselves as best they could. One by one they each succumbed to sleep. Sarah hadn't been asleep long when she was awoken by a scraping, shuffling noise. She reached for the sword beside her, but as she fully regained her senses she realized it was only Syphar turning over in his sleep. Sarah rose and went to the still crackling fire. She banked the coals, reducing the flickering light to a dim red glow. As she went to go back to sleep, she saw that Syphar was still shifting restlessly on the needle strewn ground. She thought he must surely be cold with nothing but a couple of thin blankets to cover his lanky frame. She lowered herself to the ground behind him, draping her cloak over them both. As she laid her arm across his shoulders, she could feel him begin to relax in the magical warmth. She smiled and soon joined him again in sleep. When she woke the next morning, Sarah found Syphar and Molly already awake and ready to go. She winced as she stretched, stiff muscles and recent wounds protesting the unnecessary movement. The rain had stopped during the night, and pine scented mist hung between the trees. They continued their journey after a brief breakfast, following the wide trail under a living arch of twining branches. The weather continued warming as they descended from the mountain heights, enough so that Sarah's enchanted cloak was becoming uncomfortable to wear. It was almost anticlimactic when they emerged from beneath the forest canopy into the rolling hills of Ahandria. "So here we are," said Molly, surveying the land from atop a small rise. Sarah followed Syphar up the hill to join her. She grabbed the wizard's hand a squeezed it. "It's beautiful." She looked back and forth between her two companions. "Thank you both. I never would have made it without you." Syphar smiled. "So now that we're here, what do you intend to do next?" "I..." Until now Sarah hadn't really given it any thought. Part of her had never believed that she would make it across the border alive. "I'm not sure. I know a little about brewing, but not enough to make a living at it." Molly nodded toward the rapier at Sarah's hip. "You're not hopeless with a blade. Perhaps I could make a decent fencer out of you." Sarah looked down at the weapon. She had never really considered swordsmanship as a career path. "Really? I never really thought of myself as a warrior." "Neither did I when I first came to Silverwell. I think you might surprise yourself." Sarah thought about it as she looked out over the hills. The sun shone through a break in the clouds, and in the patches of light she thought she could see a town in the distance. She recalled the stories of her youth and frowned. "I thought that Ahandrians didn't let women wear weapons." Molly chuckled. "Perhaps they can keep their own women barefoot and pregnant, but Kufriti women have a certain... reputation on this side of the border. If you can act the part, you'll have no problem." She swaggered about the top of the hill and spat. Sarah giggled. "I think that'll take more practice than the swordplay." They followed the road over and around the brush covered hills, slowly approaching the town Sarah had spied in the distance. Molly opined that she could sack the place with two cows and a broom. Sarah kept looking for something that might pass for a castle, but the largest buildings she could see looked like nothing more than barns. A wall encircled much of the town, but the shoulder high pickets seemed to be intended more for keeping out wolves than men. Few structures were more than one story high. "Midlanders are funny people," commented Molly. "I suppose we'll get used to them, though." It was afternoon by the time they reached the outskirts of the town. The folk they passed in the streets gave them a few strange looks, but Sarah guessed it was because of their dirty and bloody appearance more than anything else. She was suddenly keenly aware of how long it had been since she had had a bath, let alone clean clothes. Her skin began to itch. They stopped at the first inn they saw. There was no one on their trail right now,but the fewer people that saw them come into town in their current state, the better. They spent much of their remaining money on rooms and --perhaps more importantly -- baths. Molly got out of her bath first. She was the only one of them who had had the opportunity to pack a change of clothes, and she went out into the town to secure new garments for the others. Sarah's dress was hardly fit to wear anymore, and Syphar's wizard's robes were somewhat less than inconspicuous. Molly held true to her plan to transform Sarah into a vicious Kufriti sword maiden, bringing her a set of linen doublet and breeches in deep ruddy brown. As she was instructing Sarah in the finer points of wearing such mannish garb, she noticed that the area around her wounds was an angry red. Sarah could see that the gashes on Molly's cheek looked similarly unhealthy. "We should get checked out by a healer," said Molly. Sarah frowned. "We haven't got much money left. I don't know that we can afford it." Molly nodded. "I know. I saw an Isoldan temple while I was out shopping. We should be able to get looked at there." The Order of St. Isolde was dedicated to helping the poor and downtrodden. It was a place of last resort for mostly even the humblest peasant would do his best to scrape together a tithe for another temple before going to the Isoldans. The fact that the temple here in Travatti was as large as it was spoke volumes about the fortunes of the town in times past. The three companions entered the humbly appointed temple, reflexively tracing the circle of the sun over their hearts with their thumbs. The chapel was nearly empty, with only a few people sitting in pews with heads bowed. The approached the priest standing behind the altar, who greeted them with a circular motion of his outward facing palm. "Greetings, my children," said the red robed priest in a soothing baritone. He was square jawed and stocky; no doubt he was descended from the same farmers that comprised the bulk of Travatti's population. "How may I be of service?" Molly touched a finger to her cheek, indicating Sarah with her other hand. "We ran afoul of some... wild beasts coming through the Gap. We would be grateful for anything you might be able to do for our hurts." The priest nodded. "The Bright Lord shines his light on all who would receive it." He gestured to a nearby acolyte to take his place at the altar, leading the way into a room in the back of the temple.
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Chapter 13 added Sep 23, 2005
Darius held the gilt sun disk pendant with the fingers of his left hand. His right hand hovered over Sarah's back as the priest bowed his head in prayer. After the dazzling displays of Syphar's wizardry, the divine power channeled by Darius seemed anticlimactic. Despite its subtlety, Sarah could feel the ache of her wounds receding. Molly had already received Darius's healing touch, and her fingers traced the faint white scars running down her cheek. Sarah flexed the muscles of her back as the priest's chanting ceased. "Thank you, Father. I wish there was some way we could repay you for your kindness." Darius bowed his head. "There is no need. St. Isolde is mindful of the needs of those she watches over." He folded his hands together as he looked over the three companions. "Elizar's Gap is a dangerous path, more so in this season. You bring no goods for sale; It is perplexing that you would make such a journey without thought of profit." Sarah exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Syphar. She didn't want to reward Darius's generosity by burdening him with their problems. The priest held up a hand. "There is no need to explain. If you have come to these lands seeking a new life, it is not my business to judge your motives. You seem true enough folk, however, and I may be able to offer another small bit of aid." He crossed the room to a shelf filled with old books and ledgers. He traced his finger along their spines, finally selecting one and setting it on the desk below the shelf. "The records of small towns such as this are notoriously... untidy. Emigration documents have a tendency to be somewhat inaccurate as far as names go." Blinking, Sarah considered the priest's offer. "I hadn't even thought about that." She looked at Molly and Syphar. "They certainly know who I am, and you, too," she said to Syphar. "Molly, they might not know about you." Molly shrugged. "Those men back in Coppergate... I may have recognized a couple of them. They might remember me if they can get their tiny brains working. I think we all could use new names. A fresh start." Syphar shrugged. "I can just go back to my old name. The Cabal doesn't really keep records on where we came from; theoretically, it shouldn't matter since we're cut off from our past lives. Lawrence Easting." He said the name as if trying on a new pair of shoes. "I haven't been him for a long time." "Catherine Pickford," said Molly. "My mother's first name, my father's last," she explained. "I doubt anyone even remembers them anymore." Sarah thought for a while. "I've always liked the name Rachel," she said, but drew a blank on a surname. She was used to being a Caldwell, like her mother and her mother before her, and so on. Her father's name, Bedford, had never really appealed to her much; she was glad she had been born a girl. She thought about how she had always discussed baby names with Lucinda, ever since they were little girls. Now Lucinda would have no one to carry on her name. "Barnes," she said finally, "Rachel Barnes." Darius penned the names in the old ledger and replaced it on the shelf. "A name can be a burden as easily as it can be a boon. I wish you good luck in your new lives." They walked with Darius out of the temple. AS they were preparing to leave, Sarah looked through the saddle bags draped over Brand's back. The rope and extra blankets would be of little use to them now, and the only food left was oats. She handed the reins to Darius. "We haven't got any money to give, but Brand could use a good home. He's put up with a lot from us, and he deserves a more restful existence." The priest bowed his head. "May the Bright Lord smile upon you, my children." That night, the three of them slept soundly. The next morning found them on the east road out of Travatti, traveling at a quite leisurely pace. They stopped often, if only to admire the scenery. From the tops of the highest hills they could see out across the great plains of the Midlands. Jal Kufri was possessed of a relatively small amount of flat land. The bulk of Ahandria, on the other hand, was a great sea of grasslands and sprawling forests. It was during this time that Molly began schooling Sarah in earnest on the proper use of a rapier. The crude hacking they had been reduced to in the mountains would get her laughed out of any fencing school, even in the Midlands. Now that she wasn't in constant fear for her life, Sarah found the lessons quite pleasant. Her work in the brewery gave her strength enough to attack and defend with some authority, and, though she lacked the fine points of technique, she had sufficiently quick reflexes for Molly to declare her a natural. Syphar simply sat back and watched the swordplay. Though he was no longer a member of the Cabal, he was still a wizard of no small skill. From the tales they had heard of Ahandria, there was apparently no similar structure governing the practice of magic on this side of the border. Of course, many of the stories also painted Ahandrian wizards as dangerous and often insane. Whether that last was true or not, Syphar seemed fairly confident that he could carve out some sort of place for himself once they decided where to settle down. For now they were still trying to put distance between themselves and their homeland. Compared to most of the roads in jal Kufri save the Crusaders' Highway, the roads in Ahandria were amazingly well maintained. Midlanders were well known for traveling, often for the slightest of reasons, so it was no great surprise to find broad and well paved roads under their feet. Now that they were finally away from their homeland, their conversations often turned to nostalgia. They talked of their childhoods with a wistful fondness. Whether in the streets of Crown Bay, the gray walls of Coppergate, or the wooded banks of Dunbridge, the memories of those carefree days brought smiles to their faces. "Did you keep in touch with any of your old friends once you left Dunbridge?" asked Sarah as they sat by the side of the road eating carrots. They had happened upon a farmer whose wagon had broken a wheel that morning, and Syphar had fixed it in return for a sack of fresh vegetables headed to market in Travatti. Syphar shrugged. "I was only twelve when I went to Stormwatch. I was usually too busy on the farm to have any close friends, though certainly I played with all of our neighbors' kids. Climbing trees, swimming in the river, that sort of thing. The oldest of my brothers was only six; I wonder if he even remembers me?" He shook his head. "When I was taken to the wizards' college it was like being thrown in the ocean. Everything was strange and new, and I had nothing from my past to cling on to. That was how they wanted it, of course; with nothing else familiar in our lives, Stormwatch became our only home." Molly wrinkled her nose at the thought. "That sounds awful." "It was, in a way. It's not uncommon for students to crack under the pressure and be put out on the street. Technically we were all there by choice, but the other option was to undergo a ritual to suppress our natural talents. By all accounts it was quite an ordeal, and those who went through it were never the same, though whether it was because of the ritual itself or the what they lost was a question of much debate." Syphar shook his head. "At any rate, for those of us who made it through the first few years, the rewards were worth the effort. There was another boy who came to the school shortly after I did named Carathix. Though we weren't supposed to talk about it, he told me he was from Northfield, so for him it wasn't nearly as far from home. We helped each other through some tough times." The wizard held a leafy carrot top in his hand, then sent it flying up into the air like a bird. "We also provided a challenge for one another. I expect he'll finally outstrip me now, though at least he won't get a chance to gloat about it." "Perhaps you'll see him again someday," said Sarah. She still saw Lucinda in her dreams, though it was as often her lifeless body as her laughing face. "What out you, Molly?" "I made all of my best friends at school as well. We were a pretty sad lot back in Coppergate. A lot of my friends from Silverwell had already finished their training and gone back to their families, though. I didn't have anywhere to go back to, so I was just waiting for some opportunity to fall in my lap." She smiled. "And so here I am." The road continued on through the hills, and they enjoyed the pleasant weather as they followed the line of the mountains eastward. Though the spring was still young, the area below the north face of the mountains was much warmer than the lands on the other side. They were occasionally subjected to brief rain showers as clouds collided with the peaks above, but at least they didn't have to worry about their feet freezing. That night they slept out under the stars. Molly turned in early, leaving Sarah and Syphar sitting at the small fire experimenting with roasting turnips. Sarah poked a long stick into the fire, coaxing out a blackened lump that had once been a root. Tapping it tentatively with her fingernail, she reckoned that it was not unlike a rock. A subsequent test with her teeth confirmed the similarity. Syphar crooked a finger, and the turnip that had been slowly turning in the yellow flames floated into his hand. After giving it a moment to cool, he bit into it. "Tender, with a lovely smoky flav-- ow!" He winced as he was struck in the head by a black lump not unlike a rock. "Cheater," said Sarah, sticking out her tongue. "Your magical arsenal has no defense against my vicious Black Turnip Attack." In retaliation, Syphar reached out a long fingered hand to poke Sarah in the ribs. "You fencing master has neglected to show you the proper parry against a Stormwatch tickle finger, however." The conflict between them soon degenerated into a wrestling match that sent them rolling away from the fire. Syphar's long arms were an advantage, but years spent in a school for wizards had not blessed him with the strength to easily overcome the wiry brewers' daughter. After an unexpected twist that left the wizard's hands empty, Sarah found herself on top of him with her hands on the ground on either side of his head, her knees pinning his hands at his sides. She giggled as he struggled to extract himself from under her. She knew he could fling her aside with a thought if he so chose, which made his distraught expression all the more amusing. On an impulse, she lowered her head and brushed her lips across his. Syphar's struggles suddenly ceased, and he looked as surprised as Sarah felt. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest, and not just because of the wrestling. The wizard hadn't made a move to escape. She bent to kiss him again, her lips lingering longer this time. She allowed him to extract his hands, and they reached up to rest on her hips. They were startled by the sound of steel being drawn. "Sarah?" came Molly's voice from near the fire. Sarah could see her looking around, and realized that they had rolled far enough away that they were hidden in shadow. She quickly rolled off of Syphar and stood up. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as she touched her lips with one hand. "Over here," she called. "Everything's fine." Molly squinted in her direction, then put away her rapier. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and lay back down. "Okay. Thought I heard something." In a moment she was snoring softly again. Sarah looked down at Syphar, who was still lying on the ground looking up at her. "Good night, Syphar," she said as she walked back toward the fire. She couldn't believe what she had done. It wasn't the sort of thing she would normally expect from herself. Perhaps she had inherited something from Lucinda by taking her name, she thought. It wasn't Lucinda that occupied Sarah's thoughts as she lay down to sleep, though, nor was it her that was in her dreams.
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Chapter 14 added Sep 23, 2005
When they got up the next morning everything seemed the same as the day before. They continued on down the road, chatting about what they hoped to find up ahead. Syphar said nothing about the night before, and Sarah began to worry that she had been too forward. She wondered if perhaps he didn't even remember. When they stopped at midday to eat, Molly gave Sarah another fencing lesson. As they practiced guards and lunges, Sarah could see Syphar watching them out of the corner of her eye. He had watched them practice before, with an amused look as though he found the thought of poking each other with sharp bits of metal quaint. She circled around Molly one step at a time, until she had a clearer view of Syphar's face. He wore a different expression now. It wasn't a look that Sarah was used to seeing, at least not directed at her. She had seen it often enough on the men around Lucinda, though. Sarah smiled to herself and pressed an attack on Molly, driving her back a step at a time. Perhaps a bit of aggressiveness was just what she needed. Molly was finally able to trap Sarah's blade under hers, driving the point into the soft earth. "Whew! Where did that come from?" Sarah grinned. "I'm supposed to be a vicious Kufriti swordswoman, right?" "That you are," Molly said, chuckling. "I didn't know you had it in you." "Neither did I." Sarah could see Syphar's expression from behind Molly. Nor did he. Ever since that day at Hightower, Sarah had felt as though she were on a runaway wagon. For the first time, she felt as though she was able to take control of her life. When they came to the next town, San Frinalo, she asked Syphar to keep quiet about his profession. "I'd like to see if we can earn our keep without your help," she said. She realized that might have sounded a bit harsh, and added, "Not that we don't appreciate--" Syphar smiled and cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I understand what you mean. I'll just think of it as a little vacation." San Frinalo turned out to be a mining town, though it was nothing like dreary Coppergate. From what they could gather, there were several large groups of miners who used the town as a central trading post, as well as a number of smaller groups and individuals who had staked out their own claims up on the rocky slopes. "How do they maintain any sort of order?" muttered Sarah, shaking her head. Molly shrugged. "If it's like any other Midlander town, they have a council that makes the laws. It's probably full of the bigger mine bosses and a few lucky prospectors. I think a lot of problems are just settled on the street." She pointed out a number of people nearby, all of whom had some sort of weapon on them. "I suppose," said Sarah dubiously. After a lifetime under the protection of Crown Bay's city watch, the idea of this sort of justice seemed barbaric. "Of course, they could be part of a town militia," said Molly. "Or both. Small towns tend to take care of themselves one way or the other." They spent the night at an inn, spending as little as possible to get a roof over their heads. The common room of the inn was fairly full, so Sarah bedded down on one side with Molly and a few other women. It was nearly impossible to pick Syphar out of the mass of snoring miners on the other side of the darkened inn that night. Sarah sighed and contented herself with recollections of the night before. The next morning, several of the miners who were at the inn the night before were gathered around a pair of wagons outside. They were loading sacks and crates on the wagons, each marked prominently with symbols and names denoting ownership. Apparently, there was safety to be had in numbers, especially when transporting precious metals. Sarah and Molly were easily able to pick out the caravan master: he was making notes of names and cargoes in a ledger laid out on the tail gate of one of the wagons. They approached him, but he seemed not to take notice of them. Sarah cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said. The caravan master looked up from the ledger. When he spoke, it was with the slow drawl common to the more central parts of Ahandria. "Yes? Can I help you, miss?" "We were wondering if you were hiring guards for your caravan here." The man nodded. "Oh yes, there's always room for an able bodied man who can swing a sword." He looked around behind Sarah. "Do you have a brother or husband who's interested?" The question took Sarah aback. She knew she was no great fighter, but there was no call for him to be so insulting. It took a heartbeat or two for her to remember where she was: she had always heard stories of how Ahandrians treated women, but she had passed them off as exaggeration. Apparently it was unthinkable to this pudgy little man that she might be able to use the sword she carried. Ever since they had crossed the border, Sarah had been trying to blend in by emulating the speech she heard around her. Now, as she pointedly grabbed the hilt of her rapier, she instead affected the most clipped Kufriti accent she could muster. "What makes you think I need a man to do my fighting for me?" The caravan master blinked, looking at Sarah as if for the first time. She could see as he registered her mannish dress and the rapier at her hip. He glanced over at Molly, who simply crossed her arms and let her scars speak for her. "Ah, yes... I mean, no, of course not." He fidgeted with his pen. "I could pay you two nobles... each?" he stammered. Sarah glanced at Molly, who countered, "Two nobles now and two when we reach our destination, you mean?" The caravan master had regained some of his composure now that he was talking about money. "One now, two at the end. I have to make a profit somehow." Molly tapped her chin for a moment, then nodded. "Done." She waved to Syphar, who wandered in their direction. "We've got a friend traveling with us, but he'll be no trouble." The caravan master closed his ledger. "Well, he's your responsibility. I take no blame for anything that might happen to him."
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Chapter 15 added Sep 23, 2005
There were ten miners walking alongside the heavily laden wagons, five on each side. Along with the caravan master, two drivers, and Sarah and her friends, that made a grand total of sixteen people. Every one of the miners was carrying a sword, axe, or pick, and the drivers carried both swords and crossbows laid across their laps. Walking behind the wagons and off to one side, Sarah and Molly watched the hills on either side. "Who exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" asked Sarah. For all her bluster that morning, she didn't really know much about guarding caravans. Molly, fortunately, had been trained in such things, at least in theory. "I imagine there are any number of miners whose claims dried up or otherwise weren't successful. Rather than start over, some of them probably resorted to banditry." As if to prove her point, a dozen heads appeared from behind the ridge on the right side of the road. Before Sarah and Molly could draw their swords, four crossbows sang from the top of the hill, striking two of the miners on that side of the caravan. The other eight men swarmed down the hill, swords waving in the air as they charged. The miners fumbled for their weapons, moving to the far side of the wagons for cover against the crossbows. The first reaction of the wagon drivers, however, was to escape. The wagons lurched forward as they urged the horses to a faster pace. In their haste, however, the drivers didn't notice the log that had been laid across the road. The horses jumped it easily, but the first wagon hit it with an axle-snapping crash. The second team of horses turned to avoid the grounded wagon, causing the second wagon to tip over sideways. The horses strained at their harnesses, trying to free themselves from the wreck. Meanwhile, steel rang on steel as the bandits and miners crossed swords. Molly and Sarah came in on the bandits' flank, drawing them off one or two at a time. The miners outnumbered their attackers in the melee, but they lacked any sort of formal training and were doing their best just to stay alive. A few of them were running toward the wagons, either to take cover or make a run for it with their goods. Sarah stood at Molly's side as they faced off against two of the bandits. She slashed and stabbed, scoring a few minor scratches on her opponent. The techniques that Molly had been drilling into her came back in a rush, and she put them to use as best she could. She was doing little better than the miners, but despite the obvious threat of the bandit's sword she felt a certain thrill in the heat of battle. As Sarah finally got past the bandit's guard to cut a gash across his ribs, she heard the twang of crossbows from up on the hill again. She glanced in that direction, expecting to see death winging its way toward her. Instead, she saw crossbow bolts flying up into the air as if blown by a great wind. She turned behind her to see Syphar with his hand held in the air. "Quick! Attack while they're reloading," he shouted. Molly pulled her rapier from the chest of one falling bandit and put it in the path of the sword whistling toward Sarah's head. Sarah's stomach clenched as she realized that her distraction had almost cost her her life. "Go," said Molly. "I'll handle these guys." Recovering quickly, Sarah sprinted up the hill. As she reached the top, the man before her dropped his crossbow and reached for his sword. Before he could get it free of its scabbard, however, Sarah stabbed her rapier between his ribs. Part of her was horrified by the dark blood welling up around her blade, but she didn't allow herself to be paralyzed by her emotions. She yanked the sword free and ran along the ridge toward the next bandit. He had already drawn his sword, but he was unprepared for the fierce blow that knocked the weapon aside. Sarah reversed her blade, slashing the man across the shoulder and throat on her return stroke. As she prepared to move on down the line, she saw the other two crossbowmen running down the hill and away from the battle, their weapons forgotten on the ground behind them. Sarah lowered her bloody blade and looked back down at the road. Molly stood amid several prone bodies, sending another bandit to the ground with a swift thrust to the chest. The others were fleeing across the hills, unwilling to continue a losing battle. Several of the miners had sustained wounds, but they were all still alive. As they went to right the wagons, Sarah made her way down the hill toward Molly and Syphar. She looked at the bodies on the road and sprawled on the hilltop. "I... I never..." Molly laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know. I've never killed a man before either." Sarah could see a subtle shakiness through Molly's practiced composure. "Look over there," she said, pointing toward the miners struggling to right the toppled wagons. "Don't think about the lives you took. Think about the ones you saved." Sarah nodded numbly. She mimicked Molly, wiping the blood from her blade on the clothes of one of the dead bandits before putting it away. Syphar went to help get the wagons moving again. No one questioned his claim of being a wainwright after he somehow fixed the broken axle without any tools. Molly dragged the bodies of the bandits off to the side of the road, relieving them of their money and weapons in the process. They weren't wealthy men -- else they wouldn't have been bandits in the first place -- but their coin would buy a roof and meals for a while. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and by the time they reached the outskirts of Luni, Sarah's spirits had lifted again. The caravan master paid them as promised, thanking them profusely for their aid. Molly made sure he remembered their names, false though they were. A sellsword's reputation was her livelihood, as she informed Sarah. Sarah had begun to resign herself to an entire country of boring little towns, but the great city of Luni gave her hope that Ahandria might be a civilized place. Nestled within the edge of the Tanglewood on the slopes of the Cappelori Mountains (as they were called from this side), Luni was a large and vibrant city. The city wall was thick, built with logs and filled in with stone; not the best defense in the world, but certainly sufficient to keep out small time raiders. The buildings of the city themselves were mostly single story affairs, like they had seen in the other towns they had come through on the way there. In Luni, however, the stone and wood structures were plastered and brightly painted, making it seem as though the entire city was preparing for a festival. Exposed beams on the outsides of buildings were carved in fanciful shapes, and those too were decorated with paint and gilding. The sprawling city was very different from Crown Bay, but it seemed a place that Sarah could call home.
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Chapter 16 added Sep 23, 2005
"She never gets tired, does she?" Sarah jumped as Syphar spoke, nearly dropping the clay water jug in her hand. She slapped the wizard on the arm. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" Taking another drink from the jug, she looked out into the courtyard of the inn they'd been staying in for the past two days. Molly was in her shirt and breeches, fencing with an invisible opponent. Sarah had been out there with her most of the morning, but she had finally given up. "I don't know how she does it. I know she's had a lot more practice and training than me, but it seems like it's not even work for her." Syphar nodded. "It's what centers her. They way she tells it, she didn't have much left to live for when Master Eldridge took her under his wing. In a way, swordsmanship is quite literally her life. I can understand how she feels. My situation wasn't nearly so dire, but going to Stormwatch made just as big a difference in who I am." Sarah glanced at Syphar as she retrieved her doublet from the bench where she had tossed it earlier. "You're not at Stormwatch anymore, Syphar. They can't tell you what to do now." "It's not that," he said, shaking his head. "Once you start down the wizard's path, it becomes a part of you. Remember when I showed you the ley lines when we first met?" Sarah nodded. "That's just the beginning of what there is to understand. There are infinite worlds of subtle patterns layered on top of each other, each more fascinating than the last. The more you can understand, the more control it gives you over the world around you." "Oh." Sarah hadn't really given it much thought. "I thought it was something you just did." "It's like fencing," he said, nodding toward Molly as she advanced and retreated with small, precise steps, "or dancing, or singing, or painting. It's an art, and like any art you can always find new ways to do things that you had never thought of before; that no one had ever thought of." He waved his hands in front of him. "The things you've seen me do before, that's all just raw power being channeled on the fly. At Stormwatch they called it 'field magic'. It's like throwing a bucket of paint at a canvas; you have a little control over where it goes, but you can't exactly paint a portrait that way. For war magic it's usually sufficient. War wizards are a penny a bushel, though; many never gain any more control or understanding than that." Sarah shrugged her way into her doublet, not bothering to button it. She tried to visualize what Syphar was saying as she flexed her aching legs. "Let's go upstairs," she said, " I need to sit down for a while." They made their way up to the room she and Molly shared, passing through the common room to procure a bottle of wine. Luni was near enough to the famous wineries of Disanne that they were able to get good vintages for a reasonable price. As they made their way up the stairs, Syphar continued, "The true craft of wizardry isn't found in flashy bolts of fire and lightning. It takes careful study and intimate knowledge of the inner workings of the universe to create something that will stand the test of time or produce a specific effect." He took the wine bottle from Sarah as she fished the room key out of her pocket. She led the way inside, sitting down on the edge of her bed to take off her boots. Syphar sat on Molly's bed. He opened the wine bottle and filled the two cups sitting on the small table between the two beds. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asked. Sarah nodded, surprised. She hadn't thought about that day since it happened. She smiled to think of how afraid she had been of Syphar then. "I was studying the aura of that crystal, trying to determine how I could bind magical energy into it. Some materials are better than others for the purposes of enchantment, and much of the wizard's craft is learning the properties of materials and combinations of materials that can be used for such things." He took a long sip of the blood red wine, staring into the cup as he swallowed. "Which brings me to why I've been thinking about this these past couple of days. To do what I really want to be doing, I need to have someplace to keep all of my supplies and instruments and other equipment. There's a reason that wizards tend to build towers: they need a place to keep all of their stuff." Sarah grinned. "Why don't they just live in barns, then?" "Actually, towers are more conducive to the long term consolidation of local ley lines, which..." He trailed off as Sarah's grin only widened. He stuck out his tongue. "Because we like to look down on you little people." He leaned back on his hands, causing the bed ropes to creak under his weight. "At any rate, if I plan to continue any real practice of magic, I'm going to need to find a place to settle down. Not immediately," he added, "but the sooner the better." "Oh," said Sarah as her grin receded. She hadn't started planning for the future yet. The time since they had arrived in Luni was barely enough for her to start relaxing; long term life plans weren't really at the front of her mind. She took cup from the table and drank half of it in one gulp. She could feel her cheeks flush as the stuff burned its way down her throat. Syphar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He held his cup in his hands, looking down at it as he turned it around with his fingers. "The stories you hear about Ahandrian wizards -- about them being mad, I mean -- they aren't without a basis in fact. It's easy for a wizard in his tower to lose touch with the outside world. Many of them take apprentices just to have a link to another person. The lucky ones have family or other people they care about around them." He looked up at Sarah. "What I'm trying to say is... I don't know what you were planning to do once we got here, but I'd like us to... stay together." Sarah blinked. She drained her cup as thoughts ran through her head. Part of her, of course, was thrilled that Syphar wanted to be with her. Another part wasn't. Maybe it was a reaction to the way she had seen women treated -- including herself -- since she came to Ahandria. Maybe it was the thought of someone trying to put a limit on her hard-won freedom. Maybe it was the wine that was so much stronger than her father's winter beer. Whatever the cause, Sarah balked at Syphar's suggestion. "So that's what I am to you?" she said, slamming her cup down on the table. "A familiar face to keep you from going insane while you plumb the depths of--" she waved her hands vaguely, "whatever it is that's occupying your wizardly mind?" She stood up, hands on her hips. "Maybe you should just get a dog instead." Syphar sat bolt upright, his face a mask of confusion. Clearly, this wasn't the reaction he had been expecting. "I... I didn't mean..." Before he had a chance to say any more, though, the door burst open. Molly was standing there, still without her doublet. Her face was pale as she looked at them. "We've got a problem."
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Chapter 17 added Sep 23, 2005
Molly strode over to the window, peeking out between the shutters. "Blast!" "What's wrong?" asked Sarah, the conflicting emotions that were battling in her were washed away by a cold, all-too-familiar feeling of dread. Her hand twitching near the hilt of her rapier, Molly looked back toward the door. "There's a man out in the courtyard -- a wizard, by the look of him -- looking for Syphar." She looked at the wizard sitting on her bed. "He asked for you by name." Syphar sprang to his feet. "Is he alone?" Molly shook her head. "He has half a dozen men-at-arms, at least." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the window. "There are more out on the street. Can't tell how many. Kufriti, no doubt about it. Probably the king's men." Syphar began to pace back and forth. He shoved a hand through his hair. "How could they have found us so quickly?" Sarah sat where she was, looking back and forth between Molly and Syphar. "What are we going to do?" "I don't know," said Molly. "We might be able to fight our way clear, if it weren't for that wizard. I'd bet my eyes he's more than a Journeyman." She turned to Syphar. "No offense, but I doubt you'd be a match for him." Syphar stopped pacing. He held his hands together in front of him , the thumb of his right hand rubbing the domed sapphire in his ring. It was a gesture Sarah had come to associate with the wizard being deep in thought. His thumb stopped moving as he looked for a long moment into Sarah's eyes. She couldn't read the expression in his face, but a heartbeat later his hands dropped to his sides and he nodded. "I have a plan. Follow me." Molly and Sarah exchanged worried glances as he strode past them, but fell in behind him nonetheless. Syphar's plans had served them well often enough. Sarah felt her apprehension increase as she realized that they were headed straight for the courtyard. Where else could they go? Syphar walked out into the midday sun with Molly and Sarah in tow. He had his hands folded casually behind his back. Sarah held her chin up and did her best to face her fate with dignity. The courtyard was empty save for a sallow faced man in green robes trimmed with gold, and seven armored men with bared broadswords standing behind him. Curious faces watched the spectacle from the galleries of the inn; no doubt some of them mistook this for an impromptu dramatic production. Syphar stopped a few steps away from the green robed wizard. He gave the other man an appraising look. "So Count Arden has Boarshead lackeys doing his dirty work for him already, eh?" The wizard's triumphant sneer faltered for a moment, then returned with new vigor. "You would do well to show respect to your superiors, Journeyman. The Boarshead college is loyal to King Alfred as it was to his predecessor, may Tavion's light shine upon his soul." As he spoke, the wizard fingered a triangular gold pendant about his neck that was set with a glittering emerald. "Though I suppose such insubordination is to be expected from a traitor." Sarah glanced at Syphar, but she couldn't see his face from where she was standing. Whatever his plan was, it seemed to include annoying the people who were likely planning to kill them. One of the soldiers behind the wizard went out to the street, where he summoned back the men who had been surrounding the inn. They began to file into the courtyard, swelling the contingent to nearly twenty. "I must admit I am impressed," said Syphar. "However did you manage to find us with the pitiful arts they practice out in the woods? By smell, I presume." The green robed wizard gave a toothy grin. "For one who claims such superior knowledge, I am surprised you don't know that certain items can be tracked from a great distance." He tapped his pendant for emphasis. Syphar nodded. "Ah, a minor miscalculation on my part." He shrugged. "This entire exercise seems pointless at any rate. The king is on his throne; surely none of us poses any threat to him at this point." "Treason is treason," said the wizard. "It's a noose you shan't wriggle out of with such sophistry." Sarah couldn't take it any more. She stepped up next to Syphar. "Please, this is all my fault. They were only trying to help me; they know nothing. Take me and leave them in peace." The wizard shook his head. "That's enough." He gestured to the men behind him. "Take them." As the soldiers began to move forward, Syphar's right hand shot up before him The ring on his clenched fist blazed brightly. Almost simultaneously, the other wizard's hands flashed with green fire. Sarah recoiled form the rush of flames, only to see them splash against an unseen barrier a few feet in front of Syphar. Even so, she could feel the heat from where she was. As they faded, the green robed wizard could be seen once more, an expression of mild surprise on his face. His emerald focus flared again, and bolts of lightning leapt from his fingertips, dancing across the barrier searching for gaps in the mystical shield. The lightning, too, winked out, leaving its intended targets unharmed. "A powerful defense," he admitted. "You can't sustain it for long, though." Sarah could see that he was right. Sweat was already beading on Syphar's forehead. With his free hand, Syphar gently pushed Sarah away from him. "I don't have to," he said through clenched teeth. Before Sarah could ask what he meant by that, she began to see the telltale rippling in the air around Syphar's body. She took a step back as the tiny ripples grew into wider waves. His entire body began to glow, and Sarah could see faint trail that must be ley lines curving and flowing into him from every direction. The green robed wizard looked on, at first with confusion, then disbelief, then horror. He backed away one step at a time, and his soldiers exchanged worried glances. Blue flames began to lick up around Syphar's body as still more energy poured into him. Sarah could barely make out his face as he turned his head back over his shoulder to speak to her. She only barely registered the other wizard turning to run as Syphar spoke: "I love you, Sarah." With that, the fireball that had been her friend Syphar was sucked through the blazing sapphire, emerging through the other side as lashing tendrils of energy. In mere heartbeats the light winked out, leaving the wizard and his soldiers as charred husks on the ground. Of Syphar there was nothing but a ring tumbling to the flagstones with a clink that echoed in the sudden silence. As if in a dream, Sarah walked slowly to the ring. She crouched down and took it in her hand. It bore no mark from the terrible energies that had flowed through it, save a crack through the center of the sparkling blue stone. A hand clapped on her shoulder and snapped Sarah out of her daze. She saw stunned faces all around in the galleries of the inn. "Come on," said Molly's urgent voice. "We have to get out of here."
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Chapter 18 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah thrust the ring into her pocket and rose to follow Molly our of the courtyard. Several of the soldiers who had made it around the corner into the street were returning now. They looked, agape, at the carnage they had so narrowly escaped, then at the two women still standing on the other side of the killing field. They formed a line across the only exit, effectively trapping their quarry inside. "We can't take them all," said Sarah. "We don't need to," replied Molly as she drew her rapier. "We just need to make a hole." Sarah nodded and followed Molly as she charged headlong into the wall of swords. As she ran, she drew her own sword. Her eyes locked on the man on the far right of the wide archway. He stood with his sword at the ready; his torso was protected by a sturdy brigandine jack, while an iron cap guarded his head. Part of Sarah's mind had fallen silent when she saw Syphar's body consumed in flames. Fortunately, it was not the part that was skilled with a sword. Everything seemed to become unnaturally clear to Sarah at that moment, as her world narrowed to a single man who stood in her path. She jogged toward him at a steady pace, as though she meant to simply run through him. At the very last moment, as the soldier thrust his broadsword out to skewer her, she stopped dead in her tracks. She could feel the shock in her knees as she came to a halt. She brought the hilt of her rapier up and across her body, catching the broadsword's point at the base of her blade, knocking it aside a few critical inches. She turned her hand over and flicked the tip of her sword across his throat, just a hair's breadth above the armored collar of his jack. His eyes widened in shock as she shouldered past him, leaving him to collapse on the flagstones with blood bubbling through his clutching fingers. Sarah sprinted down the street, glancing back only once to see Molly a few strides behind her. A double handful of soldiers followed after. As Molly caught up to her, Sarah could hear a voice shouting from behind her for the soldiers to get to their horses. "Now what?" she asked as they turned down a side street. "They can't catch us on foot wearing heavy armor, but on horseback they can run us down." Molly growled. "It'd take too long to hide, even if we knew someplace to go." They hadn't had a chance to stop and sheathe their bloody swords; as they passed, people were staring at them in shock. "Someplace to go," repeated Sarah. Her eyes were drawn to the top of the city wall, and beyond to the twining branches of the forest that surrounded the city. "We can lose ourselves in the Tanglewood," she said, nodding toward the trees. "The horses will have a harder time in there." "Good idea." Molly slowed for just a moment, long enough to shove her rapier back in its scabbard. Sarah followed suit, looking back as she did so to see three men still on their tail. Soon they came to a street that ran parallel to the city wall. They turned and followed it until a gate appeared up ahead. The guards on duty there turned, surprised, as the two women dashed passed them, ignoring their challenges. They ran along the road for a few moments until it went beneath the canopy of the wood. They could hear the sounds of horses galloping through the gate behind them. They turned off the road and plunged into the thick underbrush. Their swords came out again, hacking at vines that blocked their path. The sounds of pursuit were still close behind, but the closely spaced trees made it hard to figure out exactly where they were coming from, let alone see the soldiers themselves. Briars and branches clawed at their flesh as they pushed ahead. Their arms and legs ached from hacking and running through the dense forest. Each breath she took burned in Sarah's chest, but she dared not stop, lest she not be able to start moving again. Slowly, the sounds of men behind them grew more distant. The dim light filtering through the leaves above was nearly nonexistent by the time they collapsed under a thicket of bushes. Sarah's rasping breath sounded deafening in her ears, and she felt sure that her pounding heart could be heard for miles. As her breathing slowly returned to normal, however, she heard no sign of their pursuers. She looked over at Molly. "I think we lost them," whispered Molly. She looked around at the looming trees on all sides. "I think we lost ourselves too." Sarah nodded. She wasn't ready yet to think about what else they had lost. "What are we going to do now?" Molly shrugged. "Hide out here for a while, I suppose. Make our way out somehow. Not that I know which way is out." Now that the immediate danger seemed to be gone, Sarah began to feel the scrapes and bruises she had sustained during their flight through the woods. She was also keenly aware that she had not eaten since breakfast that morning. "I don't suppose you brought any food?" Molly shook her head. "Nope. Master Eldridge made sure we knew a few things that were edible in the forest, just in case." She looked up at the interlaced branches above them, which were only barely visible now. "I can't see enough in this murk to tell what's what, though. We'll just have to survive until morning."
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Chapter 19 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah's eyes snapped open. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She had finally fallen into a dreamless sleep, propped up against a wide boled tree. Though her eyes were open, the darkness around her was as total as if she had kept them closed. She breathed slowly, listening to the sounds of the night around her. Aside from Molly's familiar snoring, there was no sound except for the singing of innumerable insects and frogs. Just as she was about to close her eyes and try to go back to sleep, a tiny twinkle out among the trees caught her eye. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared; for a moment Sarah thought she must have imagined it. Then she saw another light some distance off, which bobbed along for a few heartbeats before it, too, was hidden by the intervening trees. She nudged Molly with her toe. The snoring stopped. "What? What's going on?" "Look out there," Sarah whispered. She pointed in the direction where she had seen the lights, though in the pitch darkness it seemed a futile gesture. Even as she spoke, two of the lights appeared, then disappeared again. "Torches?" guessed Molly. "How could they have found us so quickly?" "Maybe it's not them. It could be anyone." She didn't want to admit it, but she hoped they had food, whoever they were. "Maybe we could get close enough to find out without being seen?" Molly was silent for a moment. Finally, she said. "It may be worth the risk. If we move slowly, we should be able to sneak up on them without being spotted." They began creeping forward through the trees, as the lights continued to appear and disappear in the forest beyond. It was impossible to tell how many there were, though Sarah counted at least four at a single time as they approached. It was impossible to tell in the darkness how far away the lights were; it seemed as though they kept appearing at the same distance. As she crept along, Sarah reached out in front of her and found empty air where she had been expecting another tree or bush. She looked around for a few heartbeats, but saw no more lights appearing. Before she could say anything to Molly, a cloud slid aside to reveal the full moon shining in the sky above. Sarah could suddenly see that she was at the edge of a wide, grassy clearing. Molly was crouched a few feet away. They exchanged surprised glances as they stood. "This is... very strange." said Molly, her hand hovering uncertainly near her rapier. "That it is," agreed Sarah. She looked up at the now cloudless sky. "Was the moon full last night?" "I don't think so." Her blade leaped into her hand as leaves rustled somewhere on the far side of the clearing. "What's that?" Sarah drew her own sword slowly. "I don't know." They began to see lights again then, but this time they appeared in pairs among the trees surrounding the clearing. The points of light twinkled like the reflective eyes of cats shining in the brilliant glow of the moon. Dozens of shining pairs of eyes watched them from the gloom around the clearing, appearing and disappearing at random. Sarah's stomach growled. Amid the ever-present musty smell of the ancient forest was suddenly an odor of apples and flowers. Though it seemed ludicrous, she could swear that there was also the scent of freshly baked bread. "Do you smell that?" she whispered to Molly. "I do." She lowered her sword, motioning for Sarah to do the same. "We mean you no harm," she called to the mysterious eyes around them. "We would greatly appreciate any food you might be able to share with us." For several long moments there was no response save the continued chirping and trilling of night insects. Then a voice spoke, light and musical like a delicate wind chime heard from far away. "We would gladly share with you," it said, each word seeming to come from a different place around the clearing, though all in the same voice. "However, we fear the blades you carry. Cast them away and we will allow you to join our feast." "This is crazy," said Sarah, shaking her head. "What if it's a trap?" "I'd hate to end up lost and starving in the woods," said Molly. She glanced around, then nodded to a thick tree branch that had fallen nearby. "If we need to we can fight our way out with sticks. Whoever these people are, if they meant us harm they would probably have filled us with arrows by now." Taking a deep breath, she tossed her rapier down onto the soft grass. Sarah looked around once more at the winking eyes, then shrugged. She threw her blade down next to Molly's. She nearly jumped as a pair of great owls swooped silently down from the trees nearby, snatching the weapons up in their talons and flapping soundlessly back up into the night sky. Even as she recovered from the sudden appearance of the birds, Sarah was startled to see a slender young woman standing few yards in front of them. She was clad only in a gauzy shift that floated around her as though she were under water. Her doe-like green eyes seemed almost too large for her face, which was framed by pale hair like the seeds of a dandelion. "Welcome," said the woman in the same voice they had heard before. "Who are you?" asked Sarah. The woman held up a hand. "There will be time enough for names." She pointed to something behind Sarah. "You are tired and hungry. Please accept our hospitality." Sarah turned around curiously. A large flat rock sat in the midst of the grass, its surface strewn with flowers and piled high with fruits, pastries, rolls, and other less identifiable confections. She was sure that she couldn't have missed something like that on her way into the clearing, but she was quickly learning to suspend her disbelief. She exchanged a brief glance with Molly, but whatever apprehension they might have had about this mysterious feast was outweighed by their hunger. The food tasted as good as it looked, and Sarah found several crystal cups filled with a variety of sweet wines. She and Molly ate for some time, marveling at the delicate flavors and textures. Their hostess looked on silently. Finally, as their hunger receded and they slowed in their dining, the woman spoke. "What has brought you so deep into the woods?" she asked. The question seemed innocently curious: a simple query rather than a challenge. Sarah looked at Molly, then shrugged. "We were being chased by men who wanted to kill us. We had no choice but to come here." The woman smiled and nodded, as though she had known the answer already. "You speak the truth, and I sense no malice in your hearts. I bid you welcome to Faerie." "I knew it!" shouted Molly, looking embarrassed as her exclamation broke the tranquil mood. "Well, I suspected," she said, more quietly. She turned to the woman. "Are you a faerie queen?" The green eyed woman's laugh was like tiny silver bells. "You may think of me as such if it pleases you, though I have no power to command my fellow faeries. You may call me Chloe."
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Chapter 2 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah's stomach twisted into a tight knot as she bolted across the courtyard and through the open gate. The gate guards were nowhere in sight. The familiar streets of the city suddenly seemed strange and sinister. She forced herself to slow to a fast walk as she joined the morning crowds on St. Durian's Way. For once she was thankful for her short stature. The furtive glances she cast over her shoulder showed no one obviously following her. She made her way south over the Crusaders' Bridge to the market district, then headed east down a winding side street. As the road twisted and turned, the buildings on either side grew less handsome. Soon she was threading her way between crowded tenements and stinking slaughterhouses. Normally this would not be on her list of safe places, but at the moment she found the anonymity of the area comforting. As she neared the East Bridge, Sarah cast one more glance behind her. There was no one on the street save those who were intent on their own business. She dashed across the bridge into the familiar streets of her own neighborhood. The Oxblood market was at its height now as she pushed her way through the crowds. As she neared her house she started to think that perhaps she could simply forget what she had seen, pretend it never happened. Then she saw Ignatius walking out of her parents' house. She dashed into an alley, pressing her back against the rough stone wall. Her heart pounded in her chest. The images of Lucinda and the king's guards lying in pools of blood flashed before her. She tried desperately not to see her parents' faces on those bodies. Slowly, she eased her head around the corner. The Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen. She cautiously approached the house, half expecting Ignatius to leap out at her at any moment. Through an open window Sarah caught sight of her parents standing and talking together. They looked confused and frightened, but unharmed. She stopped where she was. Her parents were alive, and that was a relief. Ignatius knew she had been at Hightower, however. She had left the wagon there; it was no great leap of logic to figure out who she was. It would be safer for her parents not to see her again. The Inquisitor couldn't learn from them what they didn't know. Sarah had spent much of her youth playing in the streets and alleys around her parents' house, and she still knew a number of good hiding places. She wasn't sure what she was planning to do, but it was plain that she was in danger. The only thing she could think to do was to put as much distance between herself and Crown Bay as possible. She had a few crowns' worth of coins on her; she liked to be prepared in case something struck her fancy in the market. Now her emergency stash would have to get her to... where? She was not well traveled. In fact, she had never been out of sight of the city in her life. There were three ways that she could leave Crown Bay: the East Road to the interior of Jal Kufri; going south on the Crusaders' Highway would lead her around the coast to Tavis by way of Westway and Seakeep; and the north half of the Highway would take her into Ahandria by a far shorter route. Her primary concern was getting out of the kingdom, so the north road was the most attractive option. The day seemed to last forever, and Sarah grew hungry in her hiding place. As the sun began to slide down toward the horizon, she cautiously started moving. The Oxblood market was starting to wind down for the day, but she was able to buy some bread and salted beef. She made sure to go to merchants that looked unfamiliar to her, and kept the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face. The evening breeze was cool, so she didn't look too out of place. There was no sign that anything was amiss as she mingled with the shrinking crowds; news of King Stephen's murder must not have gotten out yet. No doubt by tomorrow the city would be in an uproar. Tying her small sack of food to her belt, Sarah turned her feet northward. She could have left by the North Gate, which let out directly onto the highway, but that would put her perilously close to Hightower and the very men she was trying to avoid. She followed a small road that led out through stubbled fields and bare orchards. She felt exposed on the empty lane, but it was better than taking the chance of being caught trying to pass through the North Gate. After what seemed like an eternity of fields, she came to a crossroads. She turned westward. The rutted dirt road was getting harder to navigate as the sun set beyond the sea. As she stepped gingerly around the rocks and lumps in the road, Sarah wrapped her cloak around her against the chill and thought of all that had happened since that morning. Hot tears escaped down her cheeks, falling on the half frozen ground; tears for Lucinda, tears for the guards and servants she had known, as well as for those who hadn't. She cried for the betrayed king and his country. She cried for her the parents that had lost their daughter and for the daughter who had to leave them. When she set foot on the paved surface of the highway, her tears slowed and stopped. She put the sea at her left hand and started walking. With each step she tried to be more like the broad flags beneath her feet; cold, hard, and marching ever northward.
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Chapter 20 added Sep 23, 2005
"So this is Faerie." mused Sarah, looking around the clearing. To her eye, it looked like the world she knew, save for the fact that the moon was fuller than she expected it to be, as well as appearing larger in the sky. "A part of it, yes," said Chloe. Sarah had never been particularly keen on faerie stories as a child. She had always preferred tales of the sea, and, as she grew older, romantic ballads. From what she remembered of her childhood songs, faeries were sometimes helpful and sometimes harmful, depending on whether the people involved were kind or wicked. Chloe seemed to have placed them in the former category, which put Sarah somewhat at ease. She wondered if the faerie could smell the blood of the men she had slain on her. "Those men may still be chasing us," she said. "You may be in danger if you let us stay here." Chloe shook her head slowly. "They will not find this place. Only those who we wish to visit us are allowed to do so." "Oh." Sarah sat back in the soft grass, trying to think of some danger she might have overlooked in this situation. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "What if we want to leave?" "You are free to go whenever you wish," said Chloe, "though we may not be here should you return." Sarah nodded. If the faerie spoke truly, then there seemed to be nothing to worry about, and if she was false, it was already too late to do anything. She looked over at Molly. "What do you make of this?" Molly shrugged. "It seems like a fine place to me." She lay back on the grass and closed her eyes. "If nothing else, I can catch up on sleep." That sounded like wise counsel to Sarah, and she lay down as well. Between the fine grass beneath her and the sweet scent of flowers in the air, it wasn't long before Sarah was asleep. She dreamed of the happy days of her childhood, when the only kings and swords she had to worry about were pretend. She woke slowly, stretching lazily before opening her eyes. Molly was sitting nearby, bathed in the bright moonlight. Sarah certainly felt like she had slept a long time, but not an entire day. "How long was I asleep?" Molly shrugged. "I don't know. I've been awake... a while." She looked up at the shining face of the moon. "I wonder if the sun ever rises here." "Faerie does not mark time in the same way as the mortal world," said Chloe's voice from behind them. Sarah turned to see the faerie standing behind them. She was becoming used to people and things appearing out of nowhere in this place. "Morning is that way," she said, pointing a slender finger at the edge of the clearing. A previously unnoticed gap in the trees could be seen there, beyond which a trail led off into the woods. Sarah and Molly rose and went to investigate the trail. As they strolled along the tree-lined path, the midnight sky slowly began to brighten. Birds could be heard singing to each other, increasing their chatter with each step. After a few minutes the women emerged into another clearing, a little larger than the first. They stood at the top of a gentle slope that seemed designed specifically to afford them a breathtaking view of the rising sun over the trees. The forest spread out in all directions from where they stood, though the mist rising from the trees obscured their vision after a mile or so. They sat there for a while, watching clouds drift slowly across the sky. Though the sun rose no higher in the sky, the shape and color of its rays constantly shifted as the clouds obscured and revealed it. Sarah looked behind her at the trees. She could still see the path where they had arrived. She looked further along the tree line, but saw no other break. She went back to watching the sunrise, enjoying the play of light and color over the treetops. A scarf of birds rose up through the mist and flew overhead, babbling to each other as they flew. Sarah turned around again, this time simply expecting to see a new path through the trees. Much to her delight, that was exactly what she saw. "Come on," she said to Molly as she rose from the hilltop. "Hm? Where are we going?" asked Molly. "Noon, if I'm not mistaken." Through the trees they went again. Above them, the glimpses of sky they could see between the leaves changed from orange and purple to brilliant blue. When they broke through the foliage once more they found themselves surrounded by a gently rolling meadow. It was the largest they had yet seen, with tall, succulent green grasses swaying in a gentle breeze. Everywhere they turned it seemed that a different variety of wildflower was just coming into bloom as they watched. Forest creatures frolicked amid the greenery, glancing up from their browsing to gaze unfearfully at the humans in their midst. A sparkling stream wound through the meadow. As expected, the sun shone down from directly overhead. "How'd you know the way to get here?" asked Molly incredulously. Sarah shrugged, grinning. "I didn't know the way. I just wanted to find it." The clouds they had seen at sunrise were no longer in evidence, and the sun was beginning to feel quite warm. Sarah stripped off her wool doublet and discarded it in the tall grass. The cooling breeze blew refreshingly through her linen shirt. "I think I like this place." They continued their exploration through the woodland. They came upon a large, irregular stone standing in another clear area further down the path. "What do you think this is for?" asked Molly as she paced around its perimeter. "There aren't any markings on it." Sarah clambered up the side of the standing stone, perching on top of it. She pointed out over the trees. "I think it's here so you can see the sunset better." After a tiny grove of twilight and stars, they found themselves back in the moonlight where they had started. Chloe was standing there; it was unclear whether she had moved at all since they began their tour. "I see you have found the way to navigate our realm," she said, smiling softly. Sarah nodded, returning the smile. "Indeed we have. It's amazing." "I am glad it appeals to you. You may stay as long as you please."
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Chapter 21 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah poked her head out into the bright sunlight. She took a bite from the ripe peach she had brought with her, letting the juice run down her chin as she chewed the sweet fruit. She swept her eyes over the undulating meadow. She had grown used to being able to find what she was looking for with little effort, but she actually had to search for Molly amid the swaying grass. Finally she spotted her, down by the stream. She emerged fully from the trees and trotted down to meet her. "Guess what?" said Sarah as she stopped near Molly. The brunette said nothing, inspecting a long willow switch that she was busy stripping of leaves. Undaunted, Sarah continued. "I found winter!" Molly nodded. "That's nice." She swung the switch sharply back and forth, cutting through the air with a whistle. "Weren't you cold?" she asked, nodding at Sarah's clothes. Sarah looked down at the flowing shift she had gotten from Chloe. The fine cloth felt as soft as a kitten on the bare skin beneath. "You'd be surprised how warm it is," she said. "Especially if you help it along by believing it's warm. It's certainly more comfortable than that old stuff of yours." Molly was still clad in her old doublet and breeches. She had been washing her clothes in the stream, even though Sarah had shown her several times how to simply shake dirt off of them. Molly held the willow switch before her, taking a low fencer's stance. She faced off against a nonplussed deer, which simply glanced at her and turned away to search for the greenest grass. Sarah sighed. "What are you doing, Molly?" "Just staying in shape," replied the swordswoman as she lunged with her makeshift weapon. "Don't want to let this place make me soft." "Bah." Sarah dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "No one's going to find us here; there's not going to be anyone to fight. If it makes you happy, that's fine. Just don't expect me to play with you." "Ha," Molly grunted. "I doubt you'd be much better than my friend the deer, here. You just go do... whatever it is you do." Sarah's eyes narrowed. She looked around for a switch to match Molly's, finding one lying in the grass next to her. She picked it up and pointed it at Molly. "Is that so?" She rushed forward, stabbing the point of her switch at Molly's heart. Molly stepped back slightly and guided Sarah's attack harmlessly off to the side with a casual parry. She flicked her own weapon down and around Sarah's guard, slapping her lightly on the elbow. Sarah grimaced and took her stance again. She willed speed into her hands, and grace into her feet. Her next attack came whistling in toward Molly, who had to make an actual effort to defend against the flurry of blows. When her counter attack came, it was a broad slash that Sarah caught easily, their wooden blades bound up just above their imaginary quillions. They each held their ground for a heartbeat. Molly stepped closer, still holding her weapon against Sarah's. Sarah was prepared to resist a push from Molly's coiled arm, but she was not ready for the foot that Molly had slipped behind hers. As she tried to step back with the force of Molly's rush, she fell onto her back with a heavy thump. Enraged by the trick, she leaped up to attack again, drawing more of the faerie realm's power into her limbs. Molly twisted her switch quickly around Sarah's, then jerked sharply to yank it out of her grip. She planted her other hand in the center of Sarah's chest and pushed her down again. She looked down at Sarah, an expression of disgust on her face. "You may have figured out how to control this place, but you have no power over me." Sarah looked up from where was sitting in the tall grass. "Why can't you just be happy?" She gestured toward the idyllic scene around them. "Everything is perfect and beautiful here. We have anything we could want, anything we could possibly imagine. Why do you have to ruin everything?" "It's only a dream, Sarah. It's not real. None of this: the grass, the animals, even the sun. It's all..." she waved her hands around, "just so much faerie glamour." "I don't care," said Sarah, folding her arms over her chest. "It's real to me, and it makes me happy. I'm not freezing on a mountain or hiding under a bush or running from people who want to put my head on a pike." Molly tossed her switch away. "Of course. Why not save them the trouble?" Sarah cocked her head to one side, confused. "What do you mean?" "Don't you see? You're as good as dead as far as the king of Jal Kufri is concerned. Whether you're in a grave or sitting in this dream world doesn't make a bit of difference to the real world." "I don't care what the rest of the world thinks." She leaned forward, looking up seriously at Molly. "Don't you want to live forever?" Molly looked around at the fragrant meadow, with its ever-blossoming flowers and twittering birds. She turned back to Sarah and shook her head. "Not like this." She sighed. " I guess I can't change your mind. That's too bad, but I give up. I'll miss you, Sarah." Sarah sat up straight. "You're leaving?" "Haven't you been listening to me?" Molly sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do when I get back to the real world, but at least I won't end up like you." She turned and started walking back toward the path that led back to the moonlit clearing. After a few steps, she turned back to look at Sarah again. "You know, I'm glad Syphar didn't live to see this." Sarah's stomach clenched as she heard that name. She wanted to lash out at Molly for reminding her of what happened, but she found herself unable to move. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. Molly's expression softened as she saw Sarah's reaction. "Have you even thought about him since we got here?" When Sarah said nothing, Molly took a few small steps back toward her. "That' what this is all about," said Molly quietly. "You're trying to forget what happened to Syphar." Tears rolled down Sarah's cheeks as she hung her head. "It's all my fault," she whispered. As her tears struck the ground, slender black vines began to spring up around her, waving back and forth. "He put himself in danger because of me." The vines grew more quickly, twining themselves around Sarah where she sat on the ground. As they grew, they sprouted barbed thorns that cut into Sarah's flesh. "He helped me, protected me. He loved me, and I repaid him with ingratitude and death." Blood flowed freely now from her arms and legs, streaking her flesh crimson and spreading across the filmy material of her shift. "I should be dead. I didn't deserve him. Or you." Crouching down next to Sarah, Molly shook her head. "Syphar did what he did of his own free will, just like we all do. He loved you enough to give you the greatest gift he could. If you don't think you're worthy of his love, then become worthy. Don't waste the gift he gave you by giving up on yourself." Sarah raised her head slightly. "But... what will I do?" "I don't know yet," said Molly, "But we'll think of something. I won't give up on you if you don't." "I sense that you will be leaving us soon." Chloe stood nearby, appearing just as she had when they first saw her. She waved her hand, and the black briars wound around Sarah withered and fell to dust. The wounds they had caused healed, but the blood remained. "I think you will need new clothes," said the faerie. She stepped aside, revealing a broad tree stump behind her. The two owls were perched on its edge. Sarah's clothes sat in a neatly folded pile next to their two rapiers. Sarah rose and began to change back into her old clothes. The fabric felt like sand on her skin, but the sensation served to draw her further out of the trance she had been in. The heavy weight of the sword on her hip was at once reassuring and oppressive. Molly retrieved her own weapon as though welcoming back an old friend. Sarah wiped the last of the tears from her face. She turned to face Chloe. "Thank you for your hospitality. We surely would have perished without your aid." The faerie nodded. "I wish that you could have stayed longer, but it is the way of mortals to return to their own world." She held out her hand, from which flowed a pair of scarves cut from the same floating material as her own gown. "Take these with you to remember your stay. They are woven of the stuff of Faerie itself: eternal, yet ever changing." They accepted Chloe's gifts gratefully. When they finally made their way through a break in the trees and down a narrow forest path, Sarah knew that she would never be able to retrace her steps.
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Chapter 22 added Sep 23, 2005
For a while Sarah was uncertain whether they were actually leaving Faerie or not. The sky was still blue and the sun was shining through the leaves above them. Soon enough, however, they could see a clear area up ahead. For the first time in quite a while they had to move cautiously. The area ahead turned out to be the same spot on the road where they had first entered the forest. There seemed to be no sign of the soldiers who had pursued them. It was hard to gauge how long they had been in Faerie, but it was certainly several days, perhaps weeks. No doubt they had given up the search by now. The east gate of Luni was nearby, and they made their way down the road in that direction. The guards paid them little mind; apparently their mad dash had not been as memorable as they thought. The city was the same as they had left it. Despite the city's colorful and festive appearance and the fine spring weather, Sarah still felt as though she was standing in a constant shadow. After her time in Faerie, the mortal world seemed to be all hard edges and filth. She also had to accustom herself to the idea of money again. There were coins enough in her purse that it wasn't a worry, but she already missed the measureless time that she had been able to simply eat her fill from the trees around her. "Well, we seem to be reasonably safe," said Molly. "Let's find ourselves a place to stay and figure out where we want to go." Sarah nodded absently. They headed toward the opposite side of the city from where they had stayed the last time; undoubtedly people would still remember them there. The north end of the city was more affluent than the south, as the trade road from Disanne entered the city from the north. They had to go outside the city wall to find an affordable inn. The area outside the wall was a jumble of buildings, with little rhyme or reason to its layout outside of the trade road. Molly and Sarah picked a side road at random, looking for a place as out of the way as possible, just in case there were people still looking for them. As they turned a corner, the city seemed to abruptly change. The shops and houses were fairly old here, and some were in need of repair. The colorful woodwork that was a hallmark of the rest of the city had all been painted black here, turning the festival atmosphere funereal. The effect was heightened by the fact that there seemed to in fact be a funeral parade coming down the street toward them. A casket draped in white led the way, carried on the shoulders of six dusky-skinned young men. Several dozen mourners trailed behind, swaddled in black. From what they could see they seemed mostly of a similar complexion. The parade turned slowly, entering a large, nondescript building that looked like it might be a warehouse save for the large silver ball hanging above the door. The other people on the street had stopped to watch the casket pass, their faces uniformly sad as though they knew whoever was inside. Sarah looked at Molly, who only shrugged. She walked to a man who was standing nearby silently watching the procession. "What's going on?" she asked. The olive skinned man looked at her with a strange expression, as if deciding whether she was making a bad joke. "It's a funeral," he said simply. His accent sounded Kufriti, though this close to the border that wasn't too strange. In all her years in Crown Bay, Sarah had never seen a funeral like this. They were generally conducted in the church rather than parading down the street. She watched as the tail end of the line of mourners disappeared into the building. "I've never seen a funeral like this before. Is it an Ahandrian tradition?" The man's jaw clenched and unclenched, as though he was fighting some simmering anger within. "It is a Surian tradition." Sarah failed to hide the surprise on her face. Even in the cosmopolitan city of Crown Bay, she had never really met any Surians. They were a mysterious people who followed a religion separate from the Holy Church of Tavion. They were supposedly a sect that had been cast out of the Church in ancient times. When referred to at all, they were called at best, misguided, and at worst, demon worshipers. There were Surians in Crown Bay, certainly, but they kept to themselves and had few dealings with the city at large. Sarah had always been told to stay away from them, though she was never given a clear reason why. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know." "Now you do," said the man curtly. "If you have any more questions, I suggest you ask them at the temple." He pointed at the building where the funeral procession had gone before striding away. Sarah looked curiously at the building. It didn't look much like a church, though it did explain the silver ball; as the sun was the face of the Bright Lord Tavion, so the moon was supposedly the goddess Suri. As she was looking at the temple, a white haired man came to shut the doors. He caught her eye as he was beginning to pull the heavy doors shut and paused for a moment. He stepped outside, closing the doors and walking across the street toward Sarah and Molly. He was stooped with age but spry, wearing a robe much like those worn by Tavian priests, save that it was white trimmed with black. Among the Tavian clergy no one wore white save the Holy Emperor himself. "Blessings upon you both," he said as he drew near. "You have questions about the temple?" "Not exactly," said Sarah. "We had just never seen a Surian funeral before." The priest nodded. "It is a lucky thing for you, then. We have seen far too many in recent years." Molly raised an eyebrow. "Was there a war? Plague?" Sarah hadn't heard of either, but until very recently she hadn't known much at all about Ahandria, let alone its Surian population. The priest gave them nearly the same look as had the first man they had spoken to. "Surians are a peaceful people; we do not make war," he said. "As for plague, it is only a spiritual affliction we have suffered. We fled the scourge of the Inquisition after King Alfred ascended the throne of Jal Kufri. Surely you must have heard what happened?" "So soon?" whispered Sarah to herself. Molly glanced uneasily at Sarah, who looked somewhat stunned. "We've been... out of touch. On campaign up north. Please, tell us what happened." The priest studied Molly's face for a moment, then nodded slowly. "It was shortly after King Stephen's death three years ago that Alfred took the throne, and even sooner after that that the Inquisition began to make itself known throughout the kingdom. They burned heretics, shut down Orders that broke with strict Orthodoxy, and, as always, vented their rage on Suri's people." He shook his head sadly, the still recent pain etched in the lines of his face. "Not in two centuries had there been such horror. Many fled into the hills and forests, though that was no guarantee of protection. Those of us who could crossed the border. Elizar's Gap was thick with refugees for weeks until the Inquisitors came to barricade it. Many died during the flight, and even now many are feeling the effects of that journey. Today's funeral is for one of our elders who helped many others survive the mountains. He will be missed greatly by our community." "Thank you, um, Father," said Molly, looking with concern at Sarah's pale expression. "We're sorry for your ordeal." She tried to hurry Sarah away, but she started shaking her head violently and slapping Molly's hands away. "No!" she screamed, her outburst causing the priest to take a step back. "It's all my fault. I should have done something. I should have told someone." "What is she talking about?" asked the priest. Molly fumbled for a moment, then shook her head. She put her arms around Sarah, who collapsed into her chest and sobbing. "She was there when King Stephen was killed. She knew that Alfred would become king, and that he would give the Inquisition a free hand. I don't think she realized then what that meant. Nor did I until now." She stroked Sarah's hair with her hand. "Shh. It's not your fault, Sarah. There was nothing you could do. Even Master Eldridge knew there was no way to stop what was coming, and he must have known what would happen." The priest nodded. "It's true, child. We learned long ago the price of our faith, when our ancestors refused to join the Tavian Crusade. Ever since, the Church has scorned us and what we represent. It is the way of the world, and no one person's fault." Sarah pushed away from Molly, her face streaked with tears. "I might have found someone who would listen. I should have at least tried. Instead, I was only worried about my own neck." She drew her rapier from its sheath with a hiss of metal. Molly's hand went to her own sword, her free hand held out toward Sarah. Though she could easily have disarmed her, there was no need. Sarah reached around and grabbed the long blonde braid that hung down her back. "While these people were suffering, I was only concerned with my own life." she slashed across the base of the braid with her rapier. "My pride, my vanity." She hacked again and again until the braid was completely severed. She threw the braid on the dusty road, where it lay like a dead snake. "I will find a way to redeem myself, or die trying."
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Chapter 23 added Sep 23, 2005
The White Eagle Inn was just outside the Surian ghetto, an establishment that catered primarily to Kufriti travelers. Molly and Sarah let their eyes adjust to the relative gloom inside, looking around to see who else was there. There was no one in sight who appeared to be obviously one of the king's men; if there were any of them in Luni they would likely have sought accommodations at one of the finer places inside the city proper. Most of the folk had the look of merchants or tradesmen. They sat in small groups and kept mostly to themselves, unlike the more gregarious Midlanders who tended to mingle more with strangers. Molly pointed out a group seated around a large table in the center of the room to Sarah. "I'd bet my belt those are sellswords," she said. Sarah looked at the group of men and women drinking and laughing around the table. They were armed to a man with swords that were clearly more than decorative. Their gear was utilitarian and military, but they wore no obvious livery. She was inclined to agree with Molly's assessment. "What if they are?" "Well, it would be in our best interest to know what's going on back home, I think. These guys likely keep close tabs on events on the other side of the border; if there's fighting going on in Jal Kufri they'll want to know about it." "That sounds reasonable," said Sarah. She ran a hand through her ragged blonde locks. She felt uncomfortably exposed without the familiar fall of hair over the back of her neck. On the other hand, the missing weight gave her a sense of lightness and freedom that was refreshing. She followed Molly over to the soldiers' table. She tried not to wince as Molly offered to buy a round of drinks for them in return for news of their homeland. Their funds were scarce at this point, but the information they might gain would be worth it. As fresh mugs arrived, a man with short cropped brown hair sitting at the center of the table raised his drink in a salute. "The Wolf Pack thanks you." A few of the men who seemed well into their cups despite the relatively early hour howled in response. The man drained half the mug in a gulp, a few drops spilling onto his russet wool doublet. He kicked the bench across from him, and the men sitting there rearranged themselves to make room for the two women. As they sat down, the man introduced himself. "My name's Ethan Wolfe. I'm the captain of this little gang." Molly glanced sideways at Sarah, who held her eye for a moment before responding. "Sarah Caldwell," she replied. She wasn't going to hide behind a false name anymore. "This is Molly Tanner. We've been up north for the past few years, and we're a bit out of touch with what's been going on back home." "Pah," grunted Ethan, "you haven't missed much. King Stephen was assassinated -- which I'm sure you heard about even up in the north -- and William Arden was crowned Alfred IV. He managed to gain the throne without much of a fight; he had the backing of the Church and damn near everyone else one way or another. The Church brought down the Inquisition with the king's consent, and they had the run of the kingdom for just over a year. Even their most bloodthirsty supporters among the nobility had had enough of it after a year. There's no profit in an Inquisition, except for the Church and the Crown. By that point Alfred had married Lady Jane Delford, though, which solidified his power base in the west. He's not a popular king with the people, but he's got the nobles either placated or under his thumb, so he's remained unchallenged. "With no major conflicts going on, it's been a damned quiet couple of years, which is why we're seeking our fortunes on this side of the border. There's work to be had out here if you know how to find it." Sarah chewed her lip as she took in Ethan's information. It didn't sound like there was any easy way to strike back at the king. Even with what she knew it would take money, power, an army, or all three to make herself heard by the people who mattered. At the moment she had none of those. She looked around the table at the reveling soldiers. It wasn't exactly an army, but it might be a place to start. "I don't suppose you might be looking to hire on a couple more swords? We're between jobs at the moment." Ethan looked them over. "I'm inclined to like anyone who buys me beer," he said. "Are you any good with a sword?" "Molly, here, was at the top of her class at Silverwell, and she taught me everything I know." She neglected to mention exactly how little that was. "Silverwell, eh?" said the mercenary captain, tapping his thumb on the rim of his mug. "Well, I can't guarantee anything, but I'm willing to give you a chance. At half pay until you've proven yourselves, though I reckon that won't be too long, one way or the other."
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Chapter 24 added Sep 23, 2005
The loose column of soldiers marched northward along the road to Disanne, talking amongst themselves in the warm sun. Over the past several days Sarah had gotten to know most of the Wolf Pack, at least well enough to put names to faces. The eponymous Ethan Wolfe seemed a decent enough fellow. His gruff yet honest demeanor made him popular with the people under his command, while his sharp tactical mind made him an effective leader. Sarah knew little about military matters, and was somewhat surprised to find that the people they had met at the White Eagle were just the company's officers. The rest of the men were camped out north of the city, some 150 strong. Sarah didn't know what to expect when she saw them, but the apparent chaos of the mercenary camp was not what she pictured in her mind when she thought of an army. They wore no uniforms or livery, which made sense since their allegiance was based on gold, not loyalty to king or country. Molly cautioned Sarah not to assume that they were in any way duplicitous, despite their mercenary nature; one a contract was struck, their loyalty to their employer would be unwavering. "At least," she added, " as unwavering as the integrity of their leaders. You hear sometimes of sellswords who betray or abandon their employers, but that's usually the last you hear of them. If an individual sellsword's reputation is important, a company's is ten times so." The armor she could see in the camp ranged from padded and brigandine jacks to half suits of plate. There were none of the heavier plate armors to be seen; they were all infantry, even the officers, and the extra weight of more armor would hamper their vital mobility. All in all, that first night camped with the Wolves did not instill a great sense of confidence in Sarah. When morning came and camp was struck, however, her opinion quickly shifted. The men who had seemed so disorganized during the night were frighteningly efficient in tearing down their temporary quarters, stowing their tents and other gear on a number of large wagons. In addition to tents and general camping gear, there was an entire portable forge, a massive kitchen, and various other amenities vital to the long term conduct of warfare. Molly pointed out that this was only a small force compared to the armies fielded during major battles back in Jal Kufri. As the men mustered on the road, Sarah began to see why they might be thought of as a fearsome foe. The most noticeable weapons in the long column were the pikes, a forest of spears nearly a dozen feet long. They composed over half of the total force, and were the least likely to be wearing heavy armor. Each of them carried a short sword, axe, or other close combat weapon in addition to their pikes, with a curved rectangular shield slung over their backs. Ahead of them in the column were forty men carrying enormous swords that required the use of two hands to wield them. They carried no shields, obviously, and wore the heaviest armor. While there were many women among the ranks of the pikemen, there were only a few among the soldiers leading the column. There were few things that limited a Kufriti woman's choice of occupation, but the constant swinging of six feet of steel was one of them. Of the two lieutenants commanding the greatsword unit, however, one was in fact a woman. Sarah remembered her clearly from the inn; her wild mane of auburn hair and deep laugh made Cate stand out in a crowd even without taking her towering height into account. The other lieutenant, Ian, was only an inch or two taller than Sarah. It seemed improbable that he would be able to make use of a weapon nearly a foot taller than him, but his thick arms were able to put the enormous blade wherever he wanted with no apparent effort. The lieutenants of the four pike regiments were less physically imposing, but they made up for the difference in bulk with their command ability. Compared to the greatsword units, the pikes had to maintain far stricter discipline to maintain their rigid formation. During the first few drills that Sarah saw during their northward march, Sarah was amazed by the precision of the bristling blocks of pikemen as they wheeled and turned without losing their shape. She was glad she wasn't going to have to run into that dense wall of spearheads herself. Nestled between the pikes in the front ranks were the greatsword regiments, ready to smash through any opposition that survived the trip through the pikes. At the trailing end of the column were three regiments of lightly armored skirmishers, and there was where Molly and Sarah found themselves. They were placed under the command of Jack Taylor, a sandy-haired man from Lastport who fought with broadsword and dagger. There was no single weapon form that unified the skirmish units. They used a variety of sword styles, and a few even preferred axes and other light weapons. Just as in the marching column, in battle the skirmishers were deployed at the rear of the formation, guarding the back and flanks of the pike block as it did its work. Their formation was the most fluid, and that was reflected in the men and women of the unit. They were a diverse and colorful bunch, often the rowdiest and loudest in any gathering. It didn't take long for the politics of the company to become apparent to Sarah. The greatswords were the best armed and armored, and the size of their blades was only outstripped by that of their egos, if the others were to be believed. The pikes were the heart of the company, though they felt that they were under appreciated by their fellows. The skirmish units were seen as undisciplined and lazy. These minor differences of opinion were inevitable, but the well trained soldiers did not let them interfere with their effective and efficient functioning of the company. Even off the field, the conflicts between units were simply another excuse for friendly competition. Sarah had never had a particularly large circle of friends, and recently it had shrunk to only a couple of individuals. Being suddenly thrust into this band of comrades was somewhat jarring to her. Molly, of course, was very much in her element. Sarah kept close to her, trying to get used to her new situation. She was particularly nervous during her first unit drill. "All right, ladies," said Jack, "have you got any experience with group tactics?" Molly shook her head. "They gave us a few basics at Silverwell, but it wasn't something we really worked on." He nodded. "Well, that's all right. We're not pikers, so our main goal is simply to keep our own units together and near the block. Don't let them get too far ahead, and don't let them run you over. Just stay light on your feet and you should be fine. This is Yellow Squad. That's Red Squad," he said, pointing to their left. "On the other side is Blue. don't worry about what they're doing; just stick with your unit and go where we go?" Sarah considered that. She tentatively asked, "What if they're in trouble?" The lieutenant shook his head sharply. "Don't get distracted by their situation. Keep your mind on your own. If they need help, I'll decide whether we go or not. I am the brain of this unit; you are its arms and legs. The hardest thing for a good swordsman to learn about unit tactics is following orders without question. We've been trained to analyze our opponents and make decisions about how to attack them, and it's hard not to apply that same sort of thinking to the battle as a whole." The first drill they did didn't even require weapons. The entire company was arranged in a square formation, with the greatsword regiments at the leading edge and the skirmishers at the rear. Sarah was amazed by the precision of the formation; the four score pikemen fell into neat rows and columns as if by magic. They started out marching forward, which was no great challenge even for Sarah. Going backward was a little more difficult, as she couldn't see where she was going, but it was still simple enough. After that, things got more complex. Wolfe barked orders, which were repeated throughout the formation by the lieutenants. The block wheeled, turned, moved sideways and on diagonals. Sarah found herself scrambling to keep up with her unit. At one point the order was given to "split". All the pikes snapped up straight in unison. Half of the ranks of soldiers stepped to the left, while the other half moved to the right. The soldiers on either side of Sarah and Molly helped guide them in the right direction. The ranks moved forward and merged, reforming as a wide, shallow rectangle with a single rank of greatswords across the front. With some practice, Sarah started to feel more comfortable with the movements. She still found herself lagging behind during some of the faster transitions, but she found the challenge enjoyable. The skirmish units had another set of drills that involved Wolfe ordering each unit to different parts of the main block. They ran back and forth around the sides and rear of the formation, trying to move as quickly as possible without getting too spread out. The actual weapon work was more difficult for Sarah, as she had only ever really trained with Molly, and only with rapiers. She had to learn how to attack a number of different weapon styles, both alone and as part of the group. Despite the fact that the mock combats took place with wooden practice weapons, she received a great many bruises as she learned the right and wrong ways to approach spears, swords, axes, and shield walls. By the time the Wolf Pack reached Disanne, Sarah was beginning to feel almost comfortable in her new occupation. Of course, her true test would come when they faced an actual opponent.
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Chapter 25 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah poked her head out of the small tent she shared with Molly. The camp was set up within sight of Disanne's city wall; the officers and quartermaster had gone into the city itself to secure supplies and conduct whatever other business they had. Molly was sitting just outside the tent, oiling the blade of her rapier. The tents of their regiment were set up in a rough circle around a small campfire. Douglas Carter, a slim man with long brown hair pulled back in a braid, was squatted near the low fire. He scratched at his closely trimmed beard as he kept a close eye on an iron pan of biscuits sitting amid the glowing coals. No one else was in evidence, though Harvey's loud snoring indicated that he, at least, was still in bed. "Morning, Molly, Doug," said Sarah as she stepped out into the dew covered grass. She had become quite comfortable wearing breeches by this point; she shuddered to think how much harder drills would be in a cumbersome skirt. She ambled over to the fire, eyeing the biscuits hungrily. The smell made her stomach growl. "If we weren't on the move all the time, I'd make us some decent beer to go with those biscuits. The Midland stuff we've got tastes like old shoes." "Beggars can't be choosers," said Doug with a laugh. "I didn't know you were a brewer." Sarah nodded as she squatted down in front of the fire. She poked at the coals with a stick, sending a shower of sparks flying into the air like birds. "It seems like a hundred years ago. It's not that hard to do; it just takes some equipment and knowing the right steps." She wondered what her parents had in the barrels. She hadn't thought much about them since leaving home. It wasn't because she didn't love them and miss them; she just hadn't had much time to stop and think about anything. She prayed that they were safe and healthy. Molly checked the edge of her blade with her thumb. Satisfied that it still held its edge, she put it away and came to join the others at the fire. "I hope we get where we're going soon. Drills are fun, but I'd like to see some action before I get too old." Sarah frowned slightly and turned to Doug. "Where are we going, anyway?" He shrugged. "We never know until we get there. The fewer people that know the details of our contract, the less likely we'll run into trouble on the way to the assignment. There's no point getting ambushed by someone you've been hired to fight before you even get your first payment." "That makes sense, I suppose." Sarah didn't feel quite as eager as Molly was about getting herself into a battle. She still had doubts about her fighting ability; it was mostly blind luck that had gotten her through the fights she had been in so far. Even so, if this was the path she was going to take, she had to step onto it to make any progress. They all looked up as Jack Taylor strode into the circle of tents. He wore a broad grin, which Sarah took to mean that perhaps they would be reaching their destination soon after all. "Get up, you miscreants!" he shouted. Harvey's snoring ceased abruptly. The whole of Yellow Squad was soon sharing a quick breakfast before breaking camp. By the time they were on the road, the entire column was buzzing with speculation. They were heading east from Disanne, which meant that they would likely be stopping soon. Only a few dozen leagues separated Disanne from the Wild Lands. Among the various rumors making its way through the company's rank and file was that they would be going up against the Wildermen themselves. Sarah had heard some stories about the roaming barbarians of the grasslands. They were rumored to be the best horsemen in the known world, learning to ride almost before they could walk. The pike block formation the Wolf Pack used was specifically designed to be deadly against a conventional cavalry charge, but the cavalry tactics of the Wildermen would undoubtedly be anything but conventional. The officers of the company neither confirmed nor denied any of the rumor circulating through the troops, keeping their lips tightly sealed on the subject. It came as something of a surprise when the column was called to a halt just two days' march from Disanne, still far from the eastern frontier. The town of Sienda lay in a broad valley whose slopes were thick with grape vines in addition to more conventional other crops. Ever since they started nearing Disanne they had seen more and more vineyards and wineries. The area around Disanne was well known for its fine wines; Sarah had commented that it almost made up for the quality of their beer. They set up camp on the outskirts of the town, which was without a wall of any sort. In addition to the usual tents, the forge and field kitchen were erected at the center of the camp. Most of the wagons were emptied, and they were arranged in a rough circle to serve as a simple corral for the horses that had drawn them. Two of the wagons that had made the entire trip without being uncovered were still full. Sarah asked Jack what was in them. "Ah, those are one of our secret weapons," he said with a smile. "Four dozen Ironhold made crossbows, with an entire wagon load of ammunition." "Crossbows?" Sarah looked around the camp. "Who's going to fire them?" "That's the beauty of the crossbow. It takes hardly any training to shoot one, unlike a longbow. All we have to do is round up some farmers and give them a little practice, then point them in the right direction when the time comes. They're expensive weapons, but not nearly as costly as maintaining a unit of trained archers." Sarah nodded. "So this is where we've been headed all this time? What are we supposed to be doing here?" Jack opened his mouth to reply, but before he was able to say anything his eyes darted off to another part of the camp. "Ah, the Wolf is calling." Sarah followed his gaze to see Ethan standing on one of the empty wagons. The rest of the company was making its way toward him, gathering in front of the wagon to hear what he had to say. Sarah and Jack made their way in that direction, arriving just as the captain began to speak. "As you no doubt have guessed by now, our contract is with the town of Sienda. here is the brief version of the situation here. Sienda has long been within Disanne's sphere of influence, and has prospered under their protection. The city council has decided, however, that the time has come for Sienda to become independent of its great neighbor. They have voiced this desire to the leaders of Disanne, but have been denied. In two days' time, a tax collector will be coming from Disanne to collect the month's tribute. The council plans to send him back empty handed. Naturally, they expect an unfriendly response. Our purpose is to provide an appropriate defense to that response. "Sienda lacks sufficient defenses to withstand a siege, or in fact any direct attack on the town itself. We will intercept whatever force is sent from Disanne before it reaches the town, ideally at the rim of the valley. We must win a decisive victory if we are to be successful. Disanne has great resources, and they will win any drawn-out campaign. Our purpose is to make the price of taking Sienda higher than Disanne is willing to pay. If you have any questions, direct them to your unit commanders. They have been fully briefed on the situation and will relay any pertinent concerns to me." With that, he jumped down from the wagon and went to his tent at the center of the camp. The meeting dissolved into small clumps as each unit converged on its respective lieutenant. Most of Sarah's unit was simply happy to know what was going on. Sarah was still a little in the dark. She asked Jack, "What exactly are we going to be going up against?" "Well, the thing about Midland armies is you never know exactly what you'll get. They usually have small standing armies if they have them at all. Usually it's a militia drawn from the men of the city. Now, that's not to say that they're pushovers; Midland militiamen are trained just as hard as any other army, just not as often. Since they're almost entirely volunteers and generally from the area in dispute, they have amazingly high morale, at least compared to your typical levied soldiers. Because of the terrain, the armies can usually see each other miles away, save for the occasional night attack or woodland battle. They use fairly simple tactics: shield walls, cavalry charges, and archers. The last is really the biggest danger, at least from our perspective. Cavalry isn't much use against a well trained pike block, and once we get moving we can punch through a shield wall without too much trouble. Midland infantry isn't the best, but if their archers get the chance to put enough volleys in you, chances are they'll do a lot of damage. That's why we're hoping to pick our terrain and engage them at the edge of the valley. If we can come over the top of the ridge at them, we'll have less ground to cover before we can start going to work." Sarah nodded, trying to absorb the information as best she could. As she and Molly returned to their tent, another question began to nag at her. She waited until they were inside before she asked it: "Why are we doing this?" She shook her head. "Why am I preparing to kill men I don't even know?" She had fought before to save her own life; this felt different, though in the end the result was the same. Molly nodded, as if she had been waiting for this question. "It's a hard thing to grasp, though in all honesty most soldiers never bother to give it any thought. 'What is the purpose of war?' There's no good answer to that, but I can give you the one that Master Eldridge gave me. When you get down to its essence, any system of government is predicated on the threat of violence. You do what the king says because he controls the army, who can kill you if you defy him. Ideally, differences can be worked out without making good on that threat, but you won't find that ideal place anywhere in this world. In this case, the desires of these two cities have reached an impasse: Sienda wants to be independent, while Disanne wants the revenue that comes from its domination of the region. Neither is willing to give ground, so they have to fight it out. We are simply instruments of governance. We are the iron fist of law when the velvet glove is stripped away. It may not be the most comforting thought, but in the end it's the truth."
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Chapter 26 added Sep 23, 2005
Two days after their arrival in Sienda, the Wolf Pack put on a display for the visiting official from Disanne. They lined the road into Sienda, breastplates burnished and pike banners flapping in the breeze. They wore a makeshift Siendan livery of black and yellow ribbons that trailed from helms, arms, legs, and anywhere else they could be reasonably tied. The dozen honor guards that accompanied the tax collector were visibly shaken by the cold glares leveled at them by the ranks of mercenaries. Sarah hoped that she looked fearsome in her new helm and brigandine jack. Men were hard at work building a wall around the town, and the mayor met the tax collector at the newly erected gate. Sarah couldn't hear what was said, but there were no long speeches; the small procession quickly reversed its course and left the way it had come. Jack had explained the purpose of the wall building project earlier. "There's no way in the world," he had said, "that the wall will be finished before the army from Disanne arrives. The wall will be finished eventually, and it's a good thing for a newly independent town to have, but it primarily serves as a kind of bait. Disanne will hopefully expect us to try to defend the town from within the wall. That means two things. First, they'll try to muster their militia as quickly as possible, to try to attack before the wall is complete. Second, they'll be focused on the town itself and hopefully we will gain the advantage of surprise when they come over the ridge and we're already upon them." Sarah had to admit it was a cunning plan. Still, she could hardly eat or sleep from the anxiety gripping her. She had never had the chance to anticipate her battles before, and the waiting was worse than any fight she had ever been in. Molly spent the time practicing and sparring with anyone she could find. It gave the impression of simple zeal, but Sarah knew that Molly's sword was also her greatest comfort. It was four more days before word came that a force was on the move from Disanne. The sienda militia had been mustered before the Wolf Pack even arrived, and now fifty of them were competent crossbowmen. There were thirty archers as well, fifty infantry, and nearly a score of light cavalry. It was clear why they had gone to the expense of hiring mercenaries; their own militia surely would have been trampled by the reported six hundred troops on the way from Disanne. When the scouts reported the arrival of the army from Disanne, Sarah's gut clenched. She wasn't the only one feeling the anxiety of the situation; most of the skirmishers were pacing or otherwise working out nervous energy. After a brief conference with his officers, Wolfe ordered his men to start moving. Word filtered back that the attacking army was circling around to the north. Fortunately, they had remained in a single group. One of the most discussed bad situations was having two separate units coming from different directions. The defending forces were few enough that splitting them would be disastrous. Sarah figured that they must have put enough of a scare into them that the Disanners didn't want to risk sending only half an army against an unpredictable mercenary company. The last report that came in from the scouts was that the army had finally turned inward toward Sienda and was beginning its advance. The Wolf Pack advanced to just below the ridge where the Disanners would be arriving, crouching down to wait for their orders. The Siendan militiamen made for the top of the ridge, stopping just a few yards shy . They had all been carrying six foot long sharpened stakes , which they now began to hastily bury in the ground below the ridge. They had just completed their task and were making their way back down the slope when Sarah heard a startled yelp from up above. her hand flew to her rapier as she looked up. Crouching at the top of the ridge was a man -- probably no older than she was -- clutching at a crossbow bolt protruding from his neck. Another scout leaped up and started to run back toward the approaching army, but another bolt between his shoulder blades sent him crashing to the ground instead. Sarah looked over across the ridge to see Ethan Wolfe and one of the pike commanders handing crossbows back to militiamen. She watched as their own scouts crawled to the top of the ridge and looked out across the plain. One of them finally turned back and waved his arms. The tense quiet was shattered by a cascade of orders. Shouts went up all around as pikes were lifted and men surged forward over the ridge. The skirmish units were the last over the ridge, and by the time Sarah caught sight of the army they were facing things were already moving quickly. She hurried to get close behind the last rank of pikemen. The Disanne shield wall was only a hundred yards away, and it seemed to take up the entire world. Two ranks of shields stretched from one end of the field to the other, easily over three hundred men with swords and spears at the ready. Half that many archers stood behind the wall reaching for arrows. A hundred horses were there as well, with a quarter of their riders clad in heavy plate armor. The Wolf Pack's pikemen had their weapons cocked back over their shoulders, holding their shields above and in front of them. The greatsword units had fallen back behind the front ranks of pikes to take advantage of the defense, even as the skirmishers were crowding in behind the rear. Two volleys of arrows came sailing over their heads, but the tight defensive formation reduced the killing swarm to a few minor scratches. Another shouted command had shields slung back and pikes forward, with six foot swords ready to do their work at the front of the block. As they advanced, the block had wheeled and drifted to the left, so that it was set to smash into the shield wall near the left hand end. Sarah wondered why the other end of the shield wall wasn't closing in on them. She cast a quick glance over to her right just in time to see a volley of crossbow bolts streaking across the battlefield toward the Disanne shieldmen. They only inflicted a few casualties, but the distraction was more important than scoring kills. The Disanne cavalry had wisely decided against attacking the bristling block of pikes, making their way instead around the far side of the shield wall to attack the Siendan infantry that were standing firm at the ridge line. As the mercenary company struck the shield wall, Sarah's attention was brought fully back to her own position. The Disanne wall crumpled under the onslaught of pikes and crushing greatswords. Part of the end of the wall had managed to evade the hammer blow and had regrouped further off to the pike block's left. The main formation was wheeling to the right to exploit the flank of the shield wall, which left their rear and left flank exposed to the small remnant from the end of the Disanners' formation. The three skirmish units trailed behind the block, pursued by the small group of shields and spears that were trying to take advantage of the situation. finally, the order was given to attack, and the skirmish units swarmed over the shieldmen. Sarah's unit engaged them from the front, but they quickly pulled back. Their charge had given the other two regiments enough time to go around the flanks of the tiny wall and sow chaos from behind. Even as they picked apart the formation's remains, Yellow Squad hurried to rejoin the pike block. The Siendan cavalry came thundering around behind the rampaging mercenaries, making directly for the archers at the rear of the Disanne formation. They rode through a hail of arrows, but the single volley didn't inflict enough casualties to keep the wave of horses from scattering the archers. Similarly, the Disanne cavalry was charging the Siendan crossbowmen. The entire formation of Siendan militia withdrew behind the ridge. When the Disanne cavalry came over the hill, they were met with a forest of stakes and a wall of point blank crossbow fire. Almost as soon as they came in contact with the Siendan force, the Disanne cavalry turned and began to retreat. Seeing their commanders fleeing, the rest of the shield wall fell back and began to withdraw. The Wolf Pack held its ground, allowing the enemy to put distance between them. It was soon apparent that the shield wall was not going to reform anytime soon. The mercenaries withdrew as well, making their way back over the ridge and rejoining the militia. When the scouts -- who hadn't moved during the entire engagement -- reported the total withdrawal of the attacking army, a cheer went up from everyone present.
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Chapter 27 added Sep 23, 2005
The total casualties suffered by the Wolf Pack were four dead -- three greatswords and one pike -- and twenty-eight wounded. Three of the Siendan cavalry were killed when they rushed the Disanne archers, and a further three suffered lesser wounds. none of the infantry or archers got close enough to the battle to be wounded. The estimated losses on the other side were over a hundred infantry, thirty cavalry -- two of those heavy -- and twenty archers. the wounded were guessed at perhaps twice those numbers, at least outside the infantry. The Wolf Pack had been merciless in its decimation of the shield wall; few who found themselves before the massive swords at the front of the formation were able to walk away from the experience. The celebration in Sienda that night was somewhat muted. While the battle had been an unqualified success, the surprise tactics they had used would likely not work a second time. They were still outnumbered, and their tactics were no longer a complete mystery to their enemy. Until an end to the conflict was negotiated, no one in Sienda would be able to relax completely. It was, therefore, with some trepidation that they received word of the returning Disanne army two days later. It was only half the size of the first , but still a formidable force. Jack expressed some surprise that they would come back. "They have a good chance of beating us this time around," he admitted, "but it won't be an easy fight. It seems an expensive tactic." Still, there was nothing to do but prepare to face them again. Sarah felt both relieved and cheated by the first battle; she had hardly crossed swords with anyone, providing little more than a feint near the beginning of the fight. The scouts reported that the returning army had stopped on the road outside the valley. They had apparently learned from their first assault the value of choosing the most advantageous terrain. The Siendan force marched out to meet them. When they sighted the Disanners, it looked like a miniature version of the army they had seen; identical save for the numbers. There was a much larger distance to cover this time before engaging the shield wall, and Sarah trotted along behind the formation as she had before. The Siendan militia had no safe place to hide this time, and they arrayed themselves on each side of the mercenaries, shields held up in a similar fashion. the archers hid between the shieldmen, returning fire as best they could while the column advanced up the road. The Disanne army waited for them to close the distance, sending volley after volley of arrows flying across the space between. The arrows struck truer this time than last, inflicting most of their casualties among the militiamen on the edges of the formation. The Disanne infantry and casualty made no move until the gap had been reduced to no more than a hundred yards. What they did then was unexpected: rather than charging, they fell to their knees. Even more unexpected was the flurry of red fireballs that streaked out to blast apart the precise ranks of the advancing block. The thundering explosions and billowing smoke sent even the disciplined Wolf Pack into a panic. Sarah was thrown to the ground by an explosion nearby, but got to her feet almost immediately. She could hear orders being shouted; some to reform, others to scatter. She looked around for Jack, only to catch sight of him lying unmoving on the road. Molly ran up to her through the smoke, shock evident on her face. Most of the skirmishers seemed intact from what she could see, but they were the worst affected by the confusion of the attack. Sarah knew that if they didn't get their bearings quickly they would be easy pickings for the Disanners. She glanced up the road. Through the edges of the smoke she could see the shield wall still kneeling. Even as she realized it was coming, a second barrage of fire came flying into the smoke. Sarah resolved that she would not go down so easily. "Yellow Squad, to me!" she shouted. The familiar faces of her regiment turned her way. She repeated her rallying cry as she began to jog forward through the smoke. She caught sight of Cate and Ethan trying to rally the greatswords; the units at the front of the formation had been hit hardest by the magical attack, and many of them were lying scattered like toys on the ground. "Cate! Bring your unit and come with me. We need to take out that wizard." Ethan shot a glare at her, but she refused to flinch. "Captain, I know what I'm doing. Get everyone else ready to move." Ethan paused only a heartbeat before nodding to Cate. The small group fell into a wedge formation as they advanced toward the still kneeling shield wall. The leading edge of the wedge was a wall of massive blades, while the center was filled with rapiers and broadswords thirsting for blood. As soon as they started moving, Sarah shouted, "Get ready to hit the ground on my command." She could see the red robed wizard standing behind the shield wall. he was close enough that she could see the look of disdain on his face as her tiny band rushed toward him. A volley of arrows flew toward them from the Disanne archers, taking down a few of the charging mercenaries but not stopping them. Sarah ignored everything else except the wizard, focusing all her attention on him. He was standing still, but Sarah could see the air around him beginning to warp and shimmer. They were only twenty feet from the shield wall when she cried, "Down!" The charging wedge hit the ground as one, even as the wizard's hands shot up and released another deadly volley of fire. This time, however, the burning missiles sailed harmlessly over the mercenaries' heads. They leaped to their feet and covered the remaining distance to the Disanne shieldmen, who were scrambling to their feet as the crushing greatswords slammed into them. The skirmish unit at the heart of the wedge never broke stride, racing through the gap in the line to run down the wizard. His mouth was still hanging open in shock as a dozen blades cut him to ribbons. The rest of the battle was a blur, as Sarah's makeshift unit fell into a defensive circle. All of them suffered terrible wounds, and many of them died before the rest of the company made contact with the mass of the Disanne wall. The Disanners lost heart quickly, though; they had clearly not expected to have to actually face the mercenaries a second time. As they withdrew once more, Sarah collapsed on the blood-soaked road.
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Chapter 28 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah woke with a start. It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer dreaming. As the images of smoke and death fell away from her mind, she noticed that she was lying in a soft bed. It had been so long since she'd been in a good bed that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. She lay back on the feather stuffed mattress and closed her eyes again. She could feel a dull ache in her arms and legs. She traced her fingers over one thigh, feeling a long welt beneath the thin linen of her shift. She vaguely recalled being slashed there with a sword during the last moments of the battle; they must have taken her to a healer afterward. As comfortable as the bed was, Sarah was beginning to wake up fully. With wakefulness came the realization that she hadn't eaten in... she wasn't sure how long. She sat up in the bed, causing it to creak under her shifting weight. The shutters of the window were open, but it was dark outside. Waking up at night was always disorienting. The door opened, and Molly poked her head inside. She smiled and called back over her shoulder, "She's awake!" She stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. "We were starting to worry about you." Sarah stretched her arms up over her head. A number of aches and pains made themselves known to her; it was impossible to tell the sore muscles from actual wounds. "How long was I out?" "Two and a half days." "Really?" Sarah blinked in surprise. "No wonder I'm so hungry." Molly nodded, and pointed toward a neat pile of clothes on a chair next to Sarah's bed. "As soon as you get dressed, we can get you some food." She leaned back against the wall, arms folded . "You got torn up pretty bad after we took Cravio down. Cate and Bruce carried you back to camp on their shoulders after the battle. The healers weren't sure you'd make it, but I knew better." Sarah smiled weakly. The more she moved, the more she realized how close she had come to proving the healers right. She didn't even remember taking most of the wounds that had left their marks on her flesh. "I need to learn to block better." She picked up the green wool doublet from the chair and looked at Molly. "Where'd this come from?" "You don't want to put your old clothes back on, trust me. A new outfit is hardly a fit reward for the Savior of Sienda." Sarah's jaw dropped. "The what?" Molly laughed. "That's what they're calling you, you know. The crazy woman who eats hellfire for breakfast." "But I don't think I even hit anyone," said Sarah as she pulled on the matching breeches and reached around to point it to her doublet. "All I did was tell you when to duck." "If you hadn't taken control of the situation, that last blast would have been the end of the whole company." Sarah shook her head. "I just didn't want to die." She looked up at Molly as she began fastening buttons. "What were our losses?" "Ten from the greatswords, fifteen pikes, twelve skirmishers. More in the militia. I was surprised that they weren't worse, but it turned out that a lot of the people who went down from the initial fireball attacks were just stunned. If the enemy had charged before they recovered, though..." She drew a hand across her neck. "Your little stunt bought Ethan the time he needed to get them on their feet and back in line again." "I suppose." She buckled on her belt, settling the pouch and sword hanger on her hips. "I hate to ask, but are they coming back again?" Molly grinned. "Sort of -- they're already here. The Disanne council sent a representative to negotiate new relations between the cities. They're downstairs hashing out the details as we speak." She opened the door and led Sarah out into the hallway of the inn. "We can go down the back stairs to the kitchen; it's probably best not to ruffle their feathers by parading you around while they're admitting defeat." As they came out of the room they found Ethan waiting for them. He fell into step with the women as they walked down the hall. "It's good to see you up and around again." "I didn't mean to worry everyone. I was just a little tired." Ethan laughed. "I see your sense of humor is still intact. That's good." "So do we get full pay now?" "I think you've earned it. Actually, after your display on the field the other day, I may be forced to make you an officer." Sarah's eyebrows went up. She hadn't even considered the idea. "I don't know that I'm cut out for that. I'm nowhere near the best fighter in the unit." He dismissed her protest with a wave of his hand. "Being good with a sword isn't what makes an effective officer; it's the ability to make decisions under pressure and get others to do what needs to be done. You can teach a man tactics and strategies, but there's no school in the world that can make him a leader. That's something you have to be born with." They descended the back stairs to the kitchen, where Sarah was able to put together a meal of cold meat and bread. As she ate, she realized exactly how hungry she was. "So what's next? If Disanne is suing for peace, then our job is done here, right?" "Not exactly," said Ethan. "The council was concerned about the losses their militia suffered during the battle, and offered to extend our contract until they get the city defenses finished. It's a good contract, and the company could stand to spend some time in one place." Sarah chewed on a chunk of bread thoughtfully. "How long?" "Probably six months or so. Maybe longer." She thought about the idea for a moment. Over the past weeks she had made a lot of friends among the Wolf Pack, and she enjoyed the company of her new comrades. From what little she had seen of Sienda, it was a nice enough town. It wasn't her home, though. Her home was hundreds of miles away, ruled over by a traitor who had no qualms about allowing his subjects to be slaughtered. Sarah still didn't know exactly what she was planning to do with her life, but somehow she knew that this wasn't the right place for her. "Captain, I... I don't think I'll be able to stay here with you." She looked up at Ethan, expecting surprise or disappointment on his face. Instead, he looked amused. He turned to Molly. "You were right." He shook his head, and Sarah could see that there was disappointment there after all. "I'd ask you to reconsider, but Molly told me that I'd be wasting my breath." He clapped a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "If you're ever looking for a career as a soldier, You'll always be welcome back." Sarah thanked him, relieved that he wasn't upset. Part of her felt sad that she was going to be leaving her new friends, but she also felt a sense of freedom. She wondered if she would ever be able to find a place for herself where she felt she could stay. "I hope you can stick around a few more days, though. They're planning a parade for us on st. Hamrick's Day." "St. Hamrick's Day?" The patron saint of warriors was often honored by military parades, but that wasn't why the day stuck out in Sarah's mind. She turned to Molly. "What day is it today?" She hadn't been able to keep track of all the days since she left Crown Bay. "It's, um, the twenty-seventh of Thirdmoon. Why?" Sarah smiled. "Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be seventeen." "Or twenty, depending on how you look at it." The mercenary captain looked on in confusion as the two women laughed.
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Chapter 29 added Sep 23, 2005
The festive atmosphere in Sienda lasted through St. Hamrick's Day, as the townsfolk celebrated their independence. Wine flowed freely, and Sarah came to understand why Disanne had been so keen to keep control of the town and its vineyards. Her birthday party was a chance for the company to cut loose and celebrate their victory. It also doubled as a farewell party. News of her leaving had spread quickly, and several people tried to convince her to stay. She was tempted, but she knew that she was doing the right thing. If she remained with the company, she would constantly be wondering if there was something else she could be doing to more directly accomplish her goals. What those goals were was still something of a mystery. Molly said as much as they were preparing to leave Sienda the morning after the celebrations finally came to a close. "I really don't know," said Sarah as she closed the last of the saddlebags. The bonuses Ethan had given them had been generous enough that they could afford fine new horses and ample supplies to get them wherever they needed to go. "Fighting battles in Ahandria isn't going to do anything about the traitor on the throne back home. I may have to go back there before I can get in a position where I can make any difference." She looked up at Molly. "You know, you don't have to come with me." Molly shook her head. "You won't get rid of me that easily. I've come this far with you; I'm not going to let you run off and get yourself killed now." Sarah smiled. She wondered what she had done to deserve such a loyal friend. She had lost count of how many times Molly had risked her life for her since they had met, and yet she was still willing to go riding off into the unknown. "Thank you, Molly." The dark haired fencer grunted as she swung herself up into her saddle. "Let's get this little show on the road, eh?" Unless they wanted to go out into the Wild Lands, their only real choice was to go back through Disanne -- or around, more likely -- from which they would have several options. For now they simply pointed themselves westward. As they reached the new gate that straddled the main road, they saw two more riders waiting there. Sarah recognized them right away; they were both members of Yellow Squad. Alec Taylor was a younger copy of his cousin Jack -- though still a couple years older than Sarah -- and now wore the fallen lieutenant's broadsword and dagger. The other was a bearded, barrel chested man Sarah only knew as Lars. Though he would have fit well into one of the greatsword units, he preferred using his axe in the more mobile skirmish regiment. Though she had gotten to know Alec fairly well over the weeks she had spent with the company, she couldn't remember ever having spoken to Lars. "Good morning," said Sarah as they paused at the gate. "What brings you lads out this early in the morning?" Alec grinned sheepishly and glanced over at Lars before replying. "We were hoping to catch you before you left. Actually, we were hoping we might be able to go with you." Sarah blinked in astonishment. "What? Why would you want to do that?" He shrugged. "I joined the company with Jack, but he was the only one of us who really wanted to make a career of it. With him gone..." He shrugged. "I just thought you might want some more company." "I don't even know where I'm going yet, or what I'll be doing." Thoughts of Syphar came rushing back to her. "I don't want to put you in any danger." "Danger?" Alec laughed. "I already followed you through an army to chase down a fireball tossing wizard. I think I know what I'm getting myself into." It was hard to fault that logic. She turned to Lars. "What about you?" He had joined that charge as well, but Sarah really didn't know a thing about him, let alone why he would want to throw his lot in with her. Lars shrugged. "I like you." Molly grinned. "How can you say no to that?" "I guess I can't." Defeated, Sarah led her little band out onto the road to Disanne.
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Chapter 3 added Sep 23, 2005
Unused to walking such long distances, Sarah climbed onto the back of a northbound tinker's wagon. The tinker stopped at a roadside inn near midnight, and Sarah spent the night hiding in the stable. She was worried that people might be looking for her at the inn itself. She slept fitfully on a bed of straw, waking at evert snort and stamp of her roommates. As dawn began to light the sky once more, Sarah crept out of the stable. A group of travelers had assembled outside the inn. From the looks of their clothes they were a diverse bunch, rich and poor alike. No doubt they were traveling together for safety. the highway was generally safe, but it never hurt to take extra precautions. Sarah tried to blend in with them as best she could. Near midday, she spied a mounted patrol coming up the road from behind them. She forced herself to keep walking calmly. If they were looking for her, there was no way she could outrun them. She could scarcely breathe as they grew nearer. With every heartbeat she could hear voices shouting her name and deadly spears piercing her back. The horsemen passed them by, however, and Sarah let out a long sigh. Whatever steps were being taken to find her, they did not involve the road patrols. At least not yet. The motley group marched through the day and night, stopping only for a quiet midday meal. Sarah kept to herself, and began to wish that she had taken more food when she left home. She was hungrier than she had anticipated after the endless hours of walking. When they finally got to Northfield, she spent the last of her money on a hot meal and a night at an inn. She slept in the common room, happy just to be out of the cold. Tired though she was, she made sure to go well into the city before finding a place to stay; if someone came looking for her, they would check the inns nearest the highway first. Sarah got her first view of the city of Northfield early the next morning. Compared to Crown Bay, it wasn't much to look at. The whole place seemed to be nothing more than a fortified farmers' market. Considering the miles of farmland she had walked through to get there, Sarah was not terribly surprised. The shortest path to the Ahandrian border was the road through the port of Stormwatch. It was only six leagues to Stormwatch, with the border another three beyond that. With each passing day, the fear that was driving Sarah loosened its grip slightly. She was beginning to hope that she might escape unscathed; perhaps no one was after her at all. The highway continued eastward up into the mountains; The way before Sarah was only a broad dirt road, packed hard by centuries of feet and hooves. As she walked alone on the road, she couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom. Despite the fact that there might be people lurking in the shadows plotting her death, she was a sixteen year old girl out from under her parents' roof for the first time. It was a heady feeling. As the day wore on, other concerns began to reassert themselves. Sarah had saved some of the previous night's dinner to break her fast in the morning, but as she neared the coast again hunger began gnawing at her belly. The first thing Sarah saw as she approached stormwatch was a tall tower that she guessed must be at least two hundred feet high. The architectural accomplishment of the tower itself was remarkable, but even more striking was the great fiery bird hovering at its apex. The bird flapped its wings slowly, its hooked beak facing eternally out to sea. Sarah had heard sailors talk about the Firebird of Stormwatch, but she hadn't expected anything so spectacular. The city sprawling out from the tower's base seemed prosaic by comparison. Multicolored spires could be seen rising up from behind the whitewashed city wall. As she passed through the open gate, Sarah was amazed at the cleanliness of the cobbled streets. Thinking back, she couldn't recall ever hearing much about Stormwatch; it seemed strange that she had never heard of such a strange and beautiful place. Still cautious despite her awe, Sarah took to a side street shortly after getting inside the city wall. As she wandered the unfamiliar back ways, she kept expecting to enter a bad part of town, but the entire place seemed to be uniformly marvelous. The people she had seen on the streets were largely well dressed; it seemed as though there were no poor people to be found. Sarah found it strangely disconcerting. As she turned down yet another small lane, Sarah happened upon a strange sight. A tall man was sitting on the ground with his back against the wall of a small cottage, long legs crossed and hands on his knees. His eyes were closed; he seemed to be asleep. Sitting on the ground in front of him was a sparkling purple crystal the size of Sarah's fist. Sarah thought perhaps this was what passed for a beggar in this city. The man's short dark hair seemed to be well kept, as were his clothes. She drew near the man, yet he remained unmoving, eyes still closed. Sarah had never stolen anything in her life, but her stomach growled as she thought of how much a such a crystal might be worth. She crouched next to him, and still he made no move. For a moment she thought he might be dead, but his chest rose and fell slowly. She reached for the crystal. As her fingers touched the crystal, the man's long-fingered hand shot out and wrapped itself around her wrist. Grey eyes opened and glared at her. "What do you think you're doing?"
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Chapter 30 added Sep 23, 2005
They had opted to camp outside Disanne rather than go into the city itself. It was a far more relaxed camp than they had been used to while traveling with the company. While Lars was still not overly verbose, they did finally learn a little more about him. He had once been a woodsman in the great forest south of the Red Peaks that stretched all the way from the mountains through most of the eastern interior of Jal Kufri. He had been drafted into the Bloodwood army when he was young during a brief dispute with Candlemere, and found felling men with his axe more exciting than felling trees. He was a simple man with simple tastes. Sarah was surprised to find that he had a marvelous singing voice. She had heard that rich bass before when he had been singing with the other soldiers of the company, but had never connected it to him. She had seen Alec playing his recorder before, though, and their small camp became a pleasant quartet as they shared the songs of their youth. Sarah felt a pang of homesickness as Alec struck up an old sea chanty. Even though Lastport was on the other side of the country from Crown Bay, it seemed as though sailors' songs could travel from one ocean to another fairly intact. As he finished the song, she sighed. "I can't remember the last time I saw the ocean." Alec nodded as he twirled his recorder between his fingers. Suddenly he caught it in his hand and smiled. "We should go to Cahiedra." "Hm?" Sarah considered the unexpected suggestion. "What makes you say that?" "Well, I've never seen the Astra Ocean. It's not much of a reason, but we're not really going anywhere else, are we? Besides, we can't help but find something interesting to do in a place like that." Sarah was inclined to agree. Cahiedra was the largest port in Ahandria; even with her limited knowledge of geography she had heard of it. If they simply continued on the same road they were on past Disanne, they would eventually end up there. "I suppose we could do that. Molly, Lars, what do you think?" They only shrugged in response. "Well, I guess that decides it then." Now that they had a destination, however vague, Sarah began to feel a little more at ease. The long road to the sea was surprisingly pleasant. For the first time since she crossed the border, Sarah was neither hiding nor traveling as part of an army, so she was finally able to take advantage of the famous roadhouses that dotted all the major roads in the country. Midlanders had a strong penchant for wandering, so there was a high demand for such establishments. Whether in small towns or by themselves on the side of the road, even the smallest Ahandrian inn was a comfortable experience. Sarah could understand why Midlanders enjoyed their journeys so much, if they were all so enjoyable. Still, she was relieved to finally see the rooftops of Cahiedra on the horizon. As they neared the great port, Sarah called a halt and moved the small band off the road. As they dismounted and let their mounts graze, she called the group together. She glanced at Lars and Alec, then at Molly. "Before we get to Cahiedra, I feel that you deserve to know what you've gotten yourself into. I probably should have said something earlier, but I... I wasn't sure how you would react." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I have enemies. Most importantly, one very powerful enemy: King Alfred IV of Jal Kufri." "What?" Alec's eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about?" Lars revealed no reaction. "He may have given up searching for me, but I don't doubt that there is still danger, especially if I were to go back home. I witnessed him murdering King Stephen, with the aid of Ignatius the Inquisitor. I didn't understand what would happen when he took the throne, and I should have done something to stop him. I didn't, and we all know the result. I plan to make up for my mistake. I don't know how, but I intend to make him pay for what he did to my king, to my friends, and to my countrymen." Alec shook his head in disbelief. Lars was still silent. Sarah began to have second thoughts about her honesty. Lars was from the Bloodwood area, the new king's seat of power. He had even fought in Bloodwood's army. She had been taught how to defend against an axe, but she had never had occasion to put those lessons to the test. "Lars? What do you think about that?" "About what?" grumbled the woodsman. "About my saying the king is a traitor and a villain." His great shoulders rolled in a shrug. "When you cut wood, one king is much like another." "But you fought in his army. You don't feel any loyalty to him?" Sarah found it hard to believe. "I am only loyal to those I trust, and I only trust those I know. I don't know the king, but I know you." Sarah waited for a moment, but these seemed to be no more forthcoming. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lars." She glanced at Alec. "What about you? What's your opinion?" "Hm?" He looked up at Sarah, his green eyes twinkling. "I was just counting the number of ways we could die. It's not so many more than it was before." He nodded his head toward the city. "Come on, let's get going. I want to see the ocean before the sun goes down."
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Chapter 31 added Sep 23, 2005
Cahiedra was an enormous city, nearly double the size of Luni, by Sarah's estimation. It was hard to compare it accurately to Crown Bay, due to the differences in architecture. Like her hometown, it was situated at the mouth of a river, with four broad bridges connecting the east bank to the west. As they made their way toward the waterfront, they realized that the city was divided into a number of distinct neighborhoods. Banners and signs proclaimed the allegiances of various sections of the city to families, societies, and organizations. By the time they reached the docks, they were not surprised to find themselves in a quarter with a distinctly Kufriti atmosphere. Alec looked out over the ships packed closely together in the harbor and breathed deeply. "Ah, I've missed the sea." Molly wrinkled her nose. "Smells like dead fish to me." They found lodgings at a fairly affordable inn called the Broken Crown, which seemed mostly filled with sailors on shore leave. They whiled away the evening relaxing in the common room, eating, drinking, and talking. Lars lost interest after the drinking and wandered off to arm wrestle with a table full of similarly burly sailors. They retired one by one, going upstairs to the two rooms they were sharing amongst themselves. When morning came, Lars, who had been the last to bed, was also the last one awake. He seemed none the worse for wear as he joined the others at a simple breakfast. The common room was nearly empty; most of the other patrons were still sleeping off the previous night's revelry. Molly nodded to Lars as he sat down and speared a large slice of cold ham with his knife. "Have fun with your new friends last night?" "Yup. Won some coin playing cards after you went to bed. The Royal Navy pays well, it seems." Sarah nearly choked on her milk. "They were Royal Navy?" She felt her old familiar paranoia creeping up the back of her neck. Lars chuckled. "They weren't looking for you. Mostly complaining about having to cart ambassadors around and such." "What, they'd rather be fighting a war?" "Probably. Or helping someone else fight one." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't think the Royal Navy would turn mercenary." He shook his head as he chewed on a chunk of bread. "Not like that. The king's shipping weapons to Moril. They said it was a better paying assignment, and less boring." Sarah exchanged a glance with Molly. "That's interesting." Molly nodded. "Makes sense, though. There's no war at home, but Ironhold's still making weapons. Why not sell them to the Morils and pad the treasury?" She shrugged. "It takes money to run a kingdom." "It does, at that," said Sarah, tapping a spoon on the table. "Uh oh." Molly peered at Sarah. "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking." "What? Attacking the Kufriti Royal Navy and stealing the king's weapon shipment?" Sarah grinned. Molly turned to the other two at the table. "Boys, this is your last chance to run."
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Chapter 32 added Sep 23, 2005
"So what did you find out?" Sarah asked as the four conspirators gathered in the small room she and Molly shared. Molly sat down on her bed, leaning back on her hands. "As I understand it, there are supposed to be three shipments. The first one is heading out in two months, presumably on a heavily armed Royal Navy galleon." "There's supposedly a pirate cove somewhere on the far side of Cape Tullardo," said Alec. He unfolded a stained piece of parchment, on which was sketched a crude map. "For what it cost, I hope this map is for real." Sarah nodded. "Excellent. We should be able to put together a crew there." She grinned sheepishly. "And, er, learn how to sail, I suppose." Alec raised an eyebrow. "A crew is nice, but won't we need a ship? I don't think our bonuses were that big." "Well," began Sarah. Before she could continue, however, Molly laid a hand on her arm. "Don't worry," she said, as she reached into her pouch. She pulled out a gold chain, from which dangled a triangular pendant set with a glittering emerald the size of her thumb. "I've been saving this for a rainy day. I think we should be able to work something out." They left Cahiedra behind as quickly as they had come. Sarah wished she could just stay and enjoy herself, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to strike a blow against King Alfred. She knew it was an insane plan -- if it could be called a plan at all. So far the others hadn't said anything, but she knew they thought she was crazy. Maybe they were right. Most likely she wouldn't be able to get far enough for it to make any difference. Her luck seemed to be holding so far, though; Alec's map turned out to be genuine. They left the road two days' ride southwest of Cahiedra at an abandoned temple that had once been dedicated to St. Conrad, the patron saint of mariners. They followed a narrow trail west through the rock and scrub that made up most of Cape Tullardo. Picking their way through the rough terrain, they slowly neared the coast. The trail wound between towering walls of stone as it descended, and they could see men with crossbows perched up above them. The sentries eyes them warily, but made no move to attack. Finally, they rounded a bend and saw their destination: a small harbor surrounded by cliffs, with only a narrow cleft leading out into the open sea. Ships of various sizes were tied up at the ramshackle piers, and a jumble of buildings crawled up the sides of the cliffs on the landward side of the rocky bowl. The sun was setting as they rode down toward the pirate hideout, shining through the gap in the wall to paint a crimson streak across the calm water. The place was called Blood Tide Cove, and at that moment it seemed aptly named. They saw a number of unsavory characters in the streets, but they gave the newcomers no trouble. Sarah thought it amusing that the pirates seemed most intimidated by Lars, when it was Molly that was by far the most dangerous of them. They dismounted as they came near the center of the cramped little settlement. They tied their horses to a post out on the street, though they made no assumptions that they would still be there when they came back. They had transferred all of their possessions from their saddlebags into large bags before leaving Cahiedra, and these they took into the large saloon that dominated the center of the pirate haven. The nameless tavern was filled with rowdy pirates drinking, carousing, and gambling. Many were Midlanders, but there were Kufriti and Morils as well. A few of them were exotic enough that Sarah couldn't easily place where they were from. There was nowhere hospitable looking to sit, so the four companions lurked just inside the door as they surveyed the room. "What now?" asked Molly. Sarah chewed her lip. She hadn't been sure what to expect when she got here, but the chaotic brawl of sea dogs was something of a bafflement to her. "Well, we need to find a ship and crew capable of doing what we need. These people are interested in money, right? That's what piracy is all about. We just need to find someone willing to do what we want for a price we can afford." The mercenaries nodded in agreement. Molly shrugged. "Anyone look promising?" It was hard to pick out just who was who. There was no outward sign of affiliations or rank, though some of the prospects were somewhat more gaudily dressed and hung more heavily with jewelry. If wealth came with success, then the bird with the brightest plumage must be the best in the flock. Sarah narrowed her eyes, mentally weighing the gold and jewels in the room. In the end, one man stood out from the rest. Seated at a long table on the far left side of the room was a Kufriti man with a wild mane of beard and hair, dressed in yellow and green with gold and gems dripping from him like icicles. He was holding court over the entire table, telling some tale that elicited peals of laughter from his audience. Sarah waited for the man to sit down again before approaching him. As she drew near he turned halfway around on his bench and met her eye. Despite the goblet in his hand and the bottles littering the table, he looked quite alert. She cleared her throat and said simply, "I'm looking for a pirate captain." He looked back at her, nonplussed. "Aye, is that so? And what makes ye think I might be such a thing?" She gestured toward the fortune in jewelry that dangled from his neck, fingers, ears, and elsewhere. "I doubt a cabin boy would rate such a large share of the booty." "Heh, true enough," he said with a grin. Sarah was somewhat surprised to find that his teeth were not a ruin of decay. His jovial mien quickly disappeared, though, replaced by a suspicious scowl. "And why might ye be looking for such a villain?" He glanced behind her at her three companions. "If ye're intendin' to bring him to justice, I think ye'll need a bigger army." Sarah couldn't help but notice the hands of the other pirates around the table not-so-subtly reaching toward weapons. She held up her own hands as she shook her head. "No, no, quite the opposite. I need to hire someone to help me do some piracy." The dark bearded pirate just looked at her for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. The rest of the crew around the table joined in his mirth. Sarah looked back at Molly, who only shrugged. She waited for a lull in the laughter, then added, "I'm not joking. I have the means to pay you." "I don't doubt that ye do," he said, "but ye seem to lack a certain understanding of pirates. We aren't mercenaries. If we want something, we take it, we don't work for it." He grinned at Sarah's sudden worried expression. "Fortunately, this is a place of sanctuary, or ye'd likely find yourself parted from your gold quicker than ye expected." Sarah clenched her jaw in frustration. She hadn't counted on no one being interested in her offer. The plans she had been constructing since they left Cahiedra started crumbling before her eyes. As she was about to turn back, defeated, a murmur swept through from the other side of the room. Sarah looked over that way: everyone was watching one of the gambling tables, where a card player was sliding a large pile of gold and silver jewelry into an already large pile of coins. Only one other person hadn't folded his hand, a hatchet faced Moril with a long scar running down his face. No one was watching him, though; the skinny, bald-headed man who had just unadorned himself was the center of attention. "Who is that?" asked Sarah. The bearded pirate shook his head as he watched the scene. "Alliardo Mordial. A good captain, but a miserable gambler. I almost can't bear to watch." Despite his words, he leaned back and regarded the scene as though it were a play being put on for his sole benefit. Sarah watched as the grim Moril pirate shoved another pile of coins into the center of the table. His expression was unreadable -- no doubt the reason he had so much money to risk. "I call," he rasped, "and I raise you two thousand." Mordial pounded his fist on the table. "I haven't got anything else to wager! You can't just buy me out like that." The Moril shrugged. "You still have your ship." "I couldn't..." Mordial looked down at his cards again, drumming his fingers on the table. "If I fold," he thought aloud, "I won't be able to pay my crew, and it won't do any good to have a ship." After another few heartbeats, he grabbed the plumed hat lying on the table in front of him and tossed it on the pile. "Fine. I call." He didn't wait for his opponent to show his cards, tossing his own hand face up on the table. "Sun, Moon, and Stars. I dare you to beat that!" The bearded pirate whistled. "I never would have believed it. That's the best hand he could have." The Moril, however, didn't flinch. He laid his cards down one at a time. "Sun. Moon. Stars." The crowd held its collective breath as each card was announced. One more hit the table: "Comet." The wild card. "Except that one." For an instant there was only silence, then Mordial leaped across the table at his opponent. Almost before he left his seat, however, a pair of beefy sailors grabbed his arms and held him immobile. His ranting was incoherent over the jeering of the crowd. Sarah hesitated for a heartbeat, then started pushing her way through the room toward the table. As she got closer she could hear Mordial's repeated pleas: "Not my ship! You can't take my ship!" She walked right up to the table and addressed the man who was raking the pile of coins and jewelry toward himself. "I want to cover this man's last bet." The Moril turned his icy gaze on her. "I'm afraid that's not how it works." Reaching into her pouch, Sarah withdrew the wizard's amulet, holding it out over the table. Even in the dim light of the smoky tavern, the slowly turning emerald flashed and sparkled. "This is easily worth more than two thousand crowns." As the Moril shook his head and opened his mouth to refuse once more, Mordial spluttered, "Take it! Take the ship. I'd rather you have it than see it in the hands of a woman." For the first time, the Moril's face cracked in a smile. He looked at Mordial's face, then back at Sarah. "All right." He pushed a small pile of coins back across the table. "I'll even throw in enough to pay off his crew. A ship's no good without a crew." Sarah smiled sweetly as she tossed the amulet in with his other winnings. She could see Mordial straining against his captors as she plucked his hat from the top of the pile. She dusted it off with one and and turned it around to inspect it. It's previous owner's eyes were riveted on it. "This is a fine hat, Mr. Mordial. Fit for any sea captain's head." She watched him grimace as she moved to place it on her own head. She paused and held it out toward him. "I don't suppose you'd like to have it back? It would be a shame to see you fall so far through simple ill luck." "I would indeed," he replied through gritted teeth. "I'd be happy to return your command to you," she said, "provided you promise to do as I say without question." Sarah could see the conflict in his eyes between Midlander misogyny and the desire for his ship. After a few heartbeats, he nodded. "Fine. I'll do as you say." "How do I know I can trust you to keep your word?" Mordial rolled his eyes. "I swear on my mother's grave." Laughs sprang up around the crowd of spectators. Sarah shook her head. "Your peers seem unconvinced of your sincerity. I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that." The pirate grimaced, then sighed. "I swear on St. Conrad's eyes that I'll do as you say." From the muttering that went through the room, Sarah sensed that she had finally won her victory. She screwed the hat on Mordial's bald head. "Congratulations, Captain." She scooped the balance of her profits into her pouch, which now bulged with gold. "Let's have a little talk, shall we?"
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Chapter 33 added Sep 23, 2005
Captain Mordial took his hat off and put it on the table. "Forget it. You're crazy." "Oh, come on," said Sarah, pushing the hat back toward him. "At least consider it." The Midlander leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "All right, I'll consider it. Let's see... you want to take one ship up against a heavily armed Royal Navy vessel and steal a cargo that's so important to the king that it may as well be next in line for the throne. You and your little bunch don't know a mizzenmast from a yardarm, and I've got two months to prepare. Did I miss anything? Do you need me to do all this blindfolded?" "That doesn't sound so difficult for a man with your reputation." When she heard it put like that, though, Sarah could see where her plan might sound a bit unlikely. Mordial's eyes lit up for a moment at the flattery before he shook it off. "Plus," he continued, "the shipment will undoubtedly be guarded by wizards, as well. If there's one thing any good pirate knows, it's that you leave ships with mages alone." Sarah smiled. "Don't worry about that. I have a secret weapon." The pirate sniffed. "Oh yes, I've heard about your little trick at Sienda." "You have?" Sarah blinked. She felt her stomach clench; she hadn't realized that she would become famous. "Well, the song didn't mention you by name, but by the description and your complete insanity I can only assume it was you. And I can guarantee you that we won't get anywhere close enough to that ship for you to make your bold charge into the jaws of danger." "That wasn't my plan." Mordial still looked utterly unconvinced, so she added, "Okay, I'll make you a deal. Bear with me until I get a chance to show you what the last part of my plan is. If you still think it won't work, I'll let you go on your way." Mordial rubbed his stubbly chin as he considered the proposition. Sarah had taken a great risk, she knew: all he had to so was say no when the time came and all her planning would be for naught. She had taken worse risks before. Finally, the captain grabbed the hat from the table and put it back on his head. "I'll go along with you. For now." Sarah beamed. "Excellent. Let's go take a look at my ship now." She had been worried that Mordial's ship would be a leaky wreck, but she was pleasantly surprised to find a sleek caravel freshly painted in bright red and white. She didn't know much about ships, but it -- she, Mordial corrected her -- seemed the equal of any other in port, save a few larger galleons. The crew was a mix of men from all across the continent. unsurprisingly, there were no women on board, but there were enough Kufriti sailors that Sarah didn't expect too much resistance to their new commander based on gender alone. As they came across the gangplank, Sarah recognized a few faces on board from earlier in the tavern. The crew eyed her warily as Mordial led her back to the poopdeck, followed by her mercenary contingent. There was little surprise as he announced: "I'd like you all to meet the ship's new owner, Miss Sarah Caldwell." The reaction was mixed, ranging from cheers and clapping to scowls. She wasn't sure what to make of it. The cheers were encouraging, though they could just be trying to curry favor with the new person in charge. Likewise, those who were scowling might cause her problems, or they might just be displaying an honest skepticism. It would take some work to turn them all to her side. She stepped up to the edge of the deck, hands clasped behind her back. Her only true friends stood at her back as she addressed the assembled sailors. "I know many of you are concerned about your new commander being a landlubber," let alone a little girl, "but I don't plan to be one for long. I trust that you fine men will be able to instruct me in the ways of the sea." She ignored the lascivious chuckles that emerged from various points in the crowd. "In return," she continued, "I will make you all rich men. Beginning now." She turned to Mordial. "What wages do you normally pay these men?" "A crown each month for seamen, two for masters and pilots." Sarah weighed her pouch in her hand, estimating the value of its contents. Mordial must have been gambling away most of his ship's profits. She handed the pouch to Molly. "Miss Tanner, pay these men double that." A cheer went up, this time from the majority of the crew. She couldn't buy their loyalty, but hopefully she could buy the chance to earn it.
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Chapter 34 added Sep 23, 2005
Sailing a ship reminded Sarah of the Wolf Pack's precise marching. It took the coordinated efforts of a dozen men to manipulate the various ropes, wheels, and winches to position the great sails to catch the wind. She had never given much thought to how sailing ships worked; she thought that the wind just blew them along. As Mordial patiently explained to her the concepts of tacking, beating, reaches, and runs, Alec took his instruction from the crew themselves. There was a lot of information to absorb, but Sarah focused her mind and quickly grasped each new concept. Her dedication was a much a product of her desire to irk her teacher as of her looming deadline. By the end of two weeks of maneuvers in the waters near Blood Tide, even Captain Mordial had to admit that she had become a competent sailor. While Sarah was learning how to command a ship's crew, Alec was becoming one of them. His outgoing personality and offbeat sense of humor won him many friends among the seamen. There wasn't any real need for another crewman, but he professed a childhood dream of sailing the great ships he had seen in his youth. While this was true enough, he was also tasked with determining the true feelings of the crew toward their masters, both new and old. Opinions were divided, though not generally surprising. The sailors had little faith in Sarah's ability to command, and were suspicious of her intentions. She had not yet made it known what their mission would be, and the men under her command were uneasy with the mystery. Their opinions of Mordial were just as predictable: they were confident in his ability to command the ship, but they were unhappy with the small share they had in even the conservative targets that he preferred. Aside from a few grumbling Midlanders who had little desire to serve under a woman, most were reserving their final judgment until she made her true plans known. Molly and Lars were busy as well, though they had no desire or aptitude for actual sailing. They put themselves to work learning the techniques of boarding ships and fighting on the close, swaying quarters of a ship's deck. Molly gave as well as she got, instructing the crew on the finer points of swordplay. A few of her students sneered at her choice of weapons, to which she responded by trouncing them with any other sword they could find. Lars had little to say, let alone teach, but none doubted his potential value in a fight. The sun broke free from a pack of gray clouds as the Fortune's Favorite came back from its latest run along the rocky coast. Steam rose from the deck as the wet sailors began to dry out. They pulled the sails in tight, drifting slowly through the cliffs and back into the cove. Sarah ordered the anchor dropped out in the middle of the small harbor. She made her way to the poopdeck rail as the crew assembled once more on the deck below. This time Alec, Molly, and Lars were standing out in the midst of their new crewmates. Sarah put her hands on the rail as she looked out over the faces that had become so familiar over the past weeks. Captain Mordial stood behind her and off to one side, hands clasped behind his back. Finally, Sarah addressed the crew. "I've learned a lot over these past two weeks, and I appreciate your patience as I get my sea legs." The men below muttered. "This isn't why I've called this meeting, though. I can't expect you to follow me into the unknown; it's time for you to know what it is I plan for you and this ship." She took a deep breath, then continued, "The King of Jal Kufri is sending a shipment of weapons to Moril in six weeks. It will no doubt be aboard a heavily defended Royal navy frigate. With your help, I intend to steal it." Shouts went up from the assembled sailors. Most were expressing simple disbelief; many were questioning her sanity. A few seemed surprisingly supportive. "It's a great risk, I know, but the rewards are equally great. I will take no more than a quarter share of the profits from this venture; the rest shall be yours." Most captains took at least half. Mordial had taken even more to support his gambling habit. In truth, Sarah would have been happy to keep nothing for herself, but then they would truly think her mad. "I cannot force you to go with me. I can only ask you to follow me in this venture." The shouts had quieted to a constant rumble. The promise of riches was a strong lure, though not quite strong enough to overcome the reputation of the Kufriti Royal Navy on its own. After a moment, she spoke again. "I offer you a choice." She turned and gestured for Mordial to approach. "Captain Mordial, I am the owner of this ship, but I am not truly its master. You have been true to your word, and have instructed me well in the skills a good captain needs. I hereby release you from any obligation to me." She turned back to the crew. "It is up to you good men now. You can return to your old course, pilfering from hapless merchants as you have done for years. Or," she said, curling her fingers into a fist before her, "you can fulfill the dreams of every pirate on the seas. You can spit in the eye of a king, and steal his riches from under his nose. Defy the greatest navy in the world, and live to tell the tale." Her words hung in the salty air for a few heartbeats, and Sarah began to despair. Then the cheering began. Mordial turned to her and doffed his hat, offering it up to her. She placed it on her head with a smile. "Mr. Mordial, I value your advice still. Will you do me the pleasure of being my first mate for this venture?" "Aye," he replied. he leaned close to her and spoke in a low voice, "Honestly, I think I like the idea of being second in command. With all due respect, I'd rather everything be your fault than mine." Sarah nodded, her smile fading somewhat. She held these men's lives in her hands now, and it would take more than speeches to pull off what she intended. "Your point is well taken, Mr. Mordial." She looked out over the expectant crew, then back to her new first mate. "I promised you a secret weapon. I think it's time to unsheathe it."
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Chapter 35 added Sep 23, 2005
The last of the supplies were being loaded onto the newly renamed Just Reward. In addition to food, water, pitch, and other essentials, they were also loading arrows and ammunition for the catapult and ballistae. Mordial ticked off the last item on the list. "That's all of it, Captain." Once she had disabused him of his notions of female inferiority, Sarah found her first mate to be a genuinely useful man. "Excellent. Tell the men to prepare to shove off." As Mordial ran up the gangplank to relay her order, Sarah turned to see the bearded pirate in green and yellow approaching her along the dock. He grinned and tipped his hat to her. "I see ye found yourself a ship after all." "Indeed I did, and a lovely one at that." "So it is, so it is." He shook his head. "I understand ye have decided to attempt the impossible with her. I wish ye the best of luck, for ye'll need it all. Farewell, crazy woman." Sarah watched him walk away, unsure whether she had been insulted or not. She mounted the gangplank and made her way on board. She pointed the man out to Mordial. "Who is that?" He needed only a brief glance to see who she was referring to. "Ah, that's Randall Grayson, captain of the Burning Eye. Mad Randall, they call him. Utterly unpredictable, but a successful pirate, without a doubt." She nodded, watching Randall disappear amid the morning traffic on the wharf. "He called me crazy." Mordial smirked. "Well, I suppose he'd be the one to know, eh?" As soon as the supplies were safely secured in the Reward's hold, they made their way out of the cove and to the open sea. Sarah set a course south along the coast. As they sailed out across the wide mouth of the Gulf of Herniz, Sarah studied the charts and maps Mordial had collected over the years. She had never had the chance to see exactly how far she had traveled since leaving her home so long ago. She traced a great circle around nearly the whole of southern Ahandria, easily covering over a thousand miles. The circle was closing now. She was done running from her fate; on the contrary, she was now charging headlong toward it. A knock on the door broke Sarah out of her contemplation. "Enter," she called. Mordial came through the door, closing it behind him. He came up beside her, looking down at the chart she had been studying. "We'll be in sight of Istaro in three hours. What's our course, Captain?" Sarah traced her finger south along the coast, stopping just north of the point labeled "Stormwatch". "Drop anchor here. I'll take the boat on to Stormwatch." Mordial's eyebrows went up. "That's a dangerous place, a breeding ground for wizards who delight in turning pirate vessels into driftwood." "I know. That's why I want you to keep the Reward well out of sight. I shouldn't be there long, one way or the other. If I'm not back in three days, she'll be yours again." "I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but I hope it won't come to that." Sarah smiled. "I appreciate that, Mr. Mordial." The trip down the coast was uneventful enough, with only a few minor squalls to mar the beautiful Spring weather. As planned, they anchored the Just Reward along the coast just north of the Kufriti border. Sarah went south in one of the ship's boats, with only Molly, Alec, and Lars joining her. She didn't want to put any of her crew in danger if things should go awry. It was early morning when Sarah saw the Firebird of Stormwatch for the second time. They tied the boat up at one of the smaller piers on the north end of the small harbor. Most of the other ships floating nearby bore the colors of the Royal Navy, which was somewhat disconcerting. They told the harbor master that they were there to deliver a message, which was close enough to the truth. Sarah kept silent, allowing Alec to do the group's talking. It was doubtful that anyone would remember her here after her brief visit so long ago, but she felt safer taking no chances. She went with Molly and Lars to a dockside tavern to wait as Alec went into the streets of Stormwatch. A few hours later, Alec reappeared at the tavern with a slight, dark haired man in tow. Sarah rose and went to speak with him outside. "You are the wizard Carathix?" she asked. He was clearly a wizard, judging by the gray and yellow robes he wore, but finding a wizard was no great feat in a place like Stormwatch. The man eyed Sarah and her companions with some suspicion. There was no fear in his expression, despite their array of weapons. "I am Master Carathix. I am curious as to what sort of message I must be delivered to, rather than the other way around." "I apologize for the mystery," said Sarah. She smiled. "I am pleased to see that your career has advanced of late. Few are granted the rank of Master at your age." Carathix's eyes narrowed further. Sarah couldn't help but notice that he was fingering a gold ring on his hand, set with a large hemisphere of amber. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know much about me, yet I know nothing of you. If we have met in the past, I must admit I have forgotten it." Sarah's smile faded somewhat. "No, we haven't met, but I have heard stories about you." She reached into her pouch, producing a bundle of shimmering, gauzy material. She unwrapped the bundle, revealing a silver ring set with a riven sapphire. "I once knew a friend of yours." The wizard's eyes widened as he saw the ring. He reached out slowly to take it from her hand. He shook his head as he examined it. "This cannot be his. A wizard's focus is indestructible. No force can harm it, except..." He looked up at Sarah. "What happened?" There was nothing to be gained by concealing the truth. Sarah told Carathix the whole of her story, from that fateful morning in Crown Bay to her flight into the woods outside Luni. Carathix shook his head in disbelief, but the proof in his hand was hard to deny. He was still not entirely convinced, however, for he posed another question: "How do I know that you truly knew Syphar? I find your story hard to believe; perhaps you found this in a pawn shop somewhere." "I wish it were not true, Master Carathix, but it is. I saw Lawrence Easting give his life that I might keep mine." Carathix nodded slowly. "I never knew what became of him after he disappeared. If the Masters knew, they weren't talking. Even after I joined their ranks none would say what happened. Perhaps they truly didn't know." He handed the ring back to Sarah, who wrapped it in the faerie scarf again. "I thank you for putting my mind at ease. I can't imagine that you came here just to tell me of my friend's passing, though." "That's true enough." Sarah put the ring back in her pouch. "When I first told my tale to Syphar, he said that he wouldn't serve a traitor, whether he wore the crown or not. Do you share his convictions?" "I admit it is a distasteful proposition." The wizard shrugged. "What option do I have, though? Exiling myself in Ahandria will change nothing." "There is another option, if you share your friend's courage as well as his morals. I plan to strike a blow against the king, but I need the skills of a Stormwatch wizard to have a chance of success." She briefly explained about the shipment of weapons to Moril and her crew of eager pirates. The wizard rubbed his chin. "It's a very risky thing you propose. Risky, however, is not the same as impossible. I will need two days to make preparations and determine the feasibility of your plan. Tell me where your ship is anchored, and I will meet you there." He smiled at Sarah's worried expression. "If I wanted to betray you, you would be dead already. You have nothing to fear from me."
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Chapter 36 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah ordered the boat launched as soon as she saw the golden flash from the shoreline. Soon Carathix was climbing aboard, followed by sailors hauling several large bags and boxes. "How did you get out of there with so much... stuff?" asked Sarah incredulously. Carathix smiled. "Officially, I'm on a sabbatical to research tidal auras. It'll be weeks before they wonder where I am. Masters have a lot more freedom than Journeymen." "So it would seem." Sarah laughed. She ordered the crew to weigh anchor and head north again. We've got a cabin set up down below for you. Hopefully it'll be big enough for all of your gear." "I'll make do somehow." Mordial handed the wheel off to one of the pilots, climbing down to the main deck. He looked the wizard over and smiled at Sarah. "So, this is your secret weapon, eh? I didn't know you were so well connected." He extended his hand to the new arrival. "This is Alliardo Mordial, my first mate. Alliardo, I'd like you to meet..." She gave Carathix a questioning look. "Carathix is a good enough name for me. I've gotten used to it over the years." He shook Mordial's hand. Sarah gestured toward her cabin. "Shall we go discuss our strategy?" The captain's cabin was comfortable despite its small size. The three of them sat around the map table as Sarah opened a bottle of Siendan wine she had been saving for a special occasion. "So you've decided I'm not completely suicidal, Carathix?" "Only because King Alfred has made some poor choices." The wizard took a sip of the blood red wine and nodded approvingly. "Stormwatch, like all the Cabals, is dedicated to the service of the Crown. In practice, however, each king has different relationships with each individual Cabal. For example, Bloodwood kings like Alfred historically favor the local college at Boarshead. A wise king will foster good relationships with all of the Cabals, but Alfred has seen fit to neglect some of them, particularly Stormwatch, which had strong ties to his predecessor. "The importance of this to us is that King Alfred has assigned Boarshead wizards to guard his precious weapon shipment." Receiving no reaction, he elaborated, "The college at Boarshead is in the middle of a forest. They're fine enough war wizards, but what they know of the subtler maritime magics wouldn't fill my hat. As long as there aren't too many of them -- an expense I doubt Alfred would authorize -- I should be able to neutralize them if I'm careful. The rest is up to you." Mordial nodded. "The wizards were my primary concern; until now we had no way to counter them." He turned to Sarah. "That still leaves us with a significant problem. Their ship will no doubt be bigger, with a larger crew and better armaments. In a fair fight, they will slaughter us." "That's true." Sarah drummed her fingers slowly on the table. "We need to find a way to even the odds. We're not trying to take their ship, so it's not necessary to defeat their entire crew. We just need to delay them long enough to steal the weapons." Carathix leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. He steepled his fingers and closed his eyes for moment. "I think it can be done. Fortunately, I am intimately familiar with the layout of a Royal Navy frigate, a benefit that most pirates lack. Even so, it will take a lot of practice and discipline to pull this off." He opened his eyes again. "We have one month before the shipment, correct?" Sarah and Mordial nodded in unison. "We'll need all of it."
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Chapter 37 added Sep 23, 2005
The sun was low in the sky, and the Just Reward was draped in shadows. They had heaved to near the small island known as Neville's Rock. It was occasionally used as a landmark by sailors returning to Westway from Moril, but generally ignored by westbound vessels. Sarah was standing at the wheel, with her first mate pacing behind her. She hadn't felt so much anxiety since the moments before the first battle at Sienda. The stakes were far higher now, but she was far more confident in her abilities now than she had been then. She had seen the guts of war, and the knowledge exorcised the worst of her fears. What she felt now was altogether different. Then she had been one of many, following the orders she was given. Now the orders were hers, and the worries of command were on an altogether different scale. The deck was thick with sailors. Many were poised at their stations, waiting for the order to let the sails out. Still more were clustered amidships with Molly and Lars, grapples and boarding planks close at hand. Carathix stood at the bow, head down, hands gripping the rail lightly. Finally, he raised his head. Sarah looked out to see a gull gliding toward the wizard's outstretched hand. He removed something from around its neck, then sent it aloft once more. He trotted aft, joining Sarah on the poopdeck. He pocketed the small silver charm that had been around the gull's neck as he made his report. "They're about twelve miles out at a relative bearing of approximately three-thirty. I estimate their heading as two-sixty, give or take." He shrugged. "I'd be more precise, but I haven't figured out how to train a gull to read a compass yet." Sarah grinned. "I'll forgive you. The important thing is that we've seen them before they see us." She turned to her first mate, who was plotting lines on a chart set up nearby. "How does it look?" "If they keep that heading, they should pass us on the north two or three miles away." He turned to Carathix. "How fast were they going?" "I'd say about five knots." Walking his divider quickly along the projected course, Mordial announced, "We've got about half an hour until we sight them, then probably two hours until they pass us." Sarah nodded. "All right, let's begin." She stepped to the rail and called out, "This is what we've been preparing for. The time is at hand." An excited murmur spread across the clustered men on deck. Carathix strode to the port rail and produced a pair of dull gray spheres the size of plums from within his robe. He tossed them out into the water. They landed with two tiny splashes, bobbing on the waves. Just a few heartbeats later, the water around them began to bubble, causing a thick mist to rise up and surround the Reward Carathix waved his hands northward, and the mist began to drift in that direction. Soon, he was nearly hidden from view, save for a golden glow emanating from the amber cabochon on his ring. After a few minutes, Sarah quietly gave the order to make way. Ropes creaked as the men below turned the sails. The light breeze began to propel the ship forward ever so slowly. As they slid silently through the water, the mist thinned slightly, spreading out over a wider area. The sun kissed the horizon, turning the floating vapor around them the color of blood. Bit by bit, the dance of rudder and sails brought the Reward around to match the heading of their quarry. A gentle slapping sound from the water below heralded the crossing of the frigate's wake. Though could not see the other ship, they now knew the direction it was in and, from the size of the wake, how far ahead it was. Both ships were at a close reach, tacking into the trade wind that blew across the south end of the Dragon Sea. The very wind that was propelling them would be dispersing the mist, and so they now needed to make better speed. Carathix stood at the bow, hands held out before him. Sarah could see the faint rippling around his body as he drew energy from the area around himself. The breeze blowing across the deck slowly increased, and their speed picked up accordingly. As they neared the Navy vessel, Sarah allowed the Reward to drift slowly to port with the wind. By the time they drew even with their prey, there was enough distance between the two ships to provide a thin veil of mist to hide their approach. She gave a quiet order to Mordial, who passed it forward through the crew. The sound of moving ropes and swords whispering free of their sheaths was all that announced their attack. Sarah turned the wheel sharply, causing the ship to lurch as it swung to starboard. The Navy frigate appeared through the mist as if by magic, Its rail was four feet higher than the Reward's, and the sailors standing near it gaped in shock. Many things happened at once then. Carathix, who had climbed to the crow's nest during their approach, loosed a stream of golden flame that burned away the mist in its path. Even as it struck one of the frantically gesturing mages on the enemy ship's deck, Carathix flung his hands up to block two returning jets of fire. Simultaneous to this exchange was the swarm of grapples that flew across the rapidly dwindling gap between the two ships. Sailors hauled on the ropes, bringing the two ships together with a resounding thump. Planks thudded onto the rail of the Navy ship, their sharpened iron hooks biting deep like fangs. Lars and Molly led the way as two teams rushed across the lightly guarded deck. The Navy archers loosed arrows as the boarders crossed the rail, but the crude shields they had fashioned from cut down planks blocked most of the first volley. Rather than stopping to fight the men on deck, the two columns made directly for the fore and aft hatches that were already opening to admit more marines to the weather deck. Meanwhile, the duel of wizards continued in the air above the two ships. Carathix's second attack struck true, taking down the second of the three enemy mages. He had no time to erect a defense against the return blast from the remaining wizard, instead leaping from the crow's nest. The great gray cloak he wore billowed, slowing his descent as he arced gracefully down to the enemy ship. As his feet touched the weathered planks, he released a third and final bolt of magefire, clearing away the last of his magical opposition. He leaned heavily against the rail for a few moments to recover. The fighting at the hatches was fierce, but they were finally secured. Each hatch was spiked shut and further covered by heavy barrels found on deck. Scattered pockets of resistance were still present, but the bulk of the Navy fighting men were effectively trapped below decks. Molly and Lars led their groups to the cargo doors. They hauled them open, but were forced to fall back as arrows flew up from below. Molly called for archers, and a squad of pirates came forward with bows. Carathix came near the cargo bay and tossed in a small brass sphere. It bounced down into the belly of the ship, exploding with a bright, silent flash as it reached the bottom. The Reward's archers came forward to press their advantage, firing rapidly down into the mass of dazzled marines. The Navy men withdrew back into the fore and aft passages from which they had come. Grapples and ropes were transferred from the ship's rail to the cargo bay, and soon the doors below were spiked shut as well. Employing the ship's own block and tackle, the pirates began hauling crates of weapons up to the weather deck. As soon as each one was brought up, it was carried over the the Just Reward by grinning seamen. The raiders in the hold had to work quickly, as the marines had found axes and were busily chopping down the spiked doors. The last of the crates were hauled up with whooping pirates riding atop them. As the final load was carried across to the pirates' ship, Lars went to the frigate's wheel and chopped it to pieces with his woodcutter's axe. Ropes and planks were disengaged, and the just Reward let out sail, making a northward course into the deepening twilight at top speed. }}}
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Chapter 38 added Sep 23, 2005
When Sarah first arrived at Blood Tide Cove she was nobody. On her return, she was a hero. The celebration lasted three days, though Sarah and her companions left most of the revelry to the crew. In the latter part of their first night back in the pirate haven, Sarah found herself sitting at a quiet corner table with Molly, Alec, Mordial, and Carathix. Lars was happy to join the rowdy seamen that filled the rest of the tavern. They had told the story of the impossible raid a hundred times, and it had already grown to an even more unbelievable yarn. Captain Grayson swaggered his way through the crowd, making his way toward Sarah's table. He doffed his hat to her. "Cap'n Caldwell, I must admit I misjudged ye. I thought fer sure ye'd be swingin' at the end of a noose by now, yet here ye are. I humbly beg yer forgiveness." Sarah smiled. "There's nothing to forgive, Captain Grayson. I was an untested beginner who was lucky enough to find a good crew willing to give me a chance." She grinned at Carathix. "I also happened to have a couple of useful connections." "Aye, so ye do." The pirate captain shrugged. "Well, I was never good at bein' humble, let alone beggin'. I do have a proposition for ye, however." He gestured with his goblet toward the door and the docks beyond. "Ye've got a hold full o' weapons now, but I'd wager ye don't have anyone to sell them to just yet." "I can see how you might think that," she said. "How does this proposition of yours figure in?" "Well, ye can't very well sell the things in Jal Kufri; if there was a market there, the king wouldn't have been shipping them overseas. Likewise, there's hardly ever a big market in the Midlands for weapons. That leaves you with the Morils, of whom I reckon I know more than you do. In fact, I happen to know a certain someone who will happily take them off yer hands for a reasonable price. Not as good as you could get selling them yourself, assuming ye wanted to make the trip across the Dragon, and assuming you had any contacts in the black markets there." His grin was one of supreme confidence. His arrogance irked Sarah, but she had to admit the logic of his argument. "And I suppose you would want some sort of compensation for introducing me to this friend of yours?" "Perish the thought! Think of it as a friendly gesture." He leaned forward. "What I would like, however, is an equal share in the profits from the second shipment." Sarah blinked. "The what?" "Certainly ye're not goin' to stop now? I'd hate to see such a brilliant career end as soon as it began." She hadn't even considered trying to take the second arms shipment. She was still amazed that she had been able to take the first without sending her entire crew to a watery grave. "Carathix? Could it be done?" The wizard leaned back in his chair, his hand stroking his chin. "The risk would be far greater, without a doubt. He wouldn't make the mistake of leaving the ship in the hands of Boarshead. It'll be Seakeep mages at least, Stormwatch if he manages to make the right people happy. Either way, they'll know what tricks to look for and how to counter them. They also weren't expecting anyone to attack them last time. We won't catch them off guard again." He shook his head. "There's no way we could pull it off a second time." "And if ye had another ship and a hundred more men?" "That's a different story." Carathix looked at Sarah and shrugged. "There's no guarantee that it would work, but it would even the odds quite a bit." Sarah really hadn't given any thought to trying to take the second arms shipment. The fact that they had succeeded the first time was still sinking in. The thought was tempting, though. Losing one of the three shipments surely had angered the traitor king; the loss of another would hurt him. Even if she wanted to try it, would she be able to convince her crew to follow her into the jaws of death again? She looked out into the crowd of jubilant pirates. They would follow, she had little doubt. Rather than making her happy, their loyalty only made the decision a heavier one. She held their lives in her hands. Eleven of the sixty sailors that went with her on the first raid never came back; how many more might she lose on a second? She turned to Molly, speaking in low tones. "What do you think? I don't want to go through this again if it's not going to make any difference." "Well, aside from the obvious damage to his pride," said Molly, looking up at the soot-blackened ceiling, "by my estimate the king is out about... thirty thousand crowns on this venture." "Thirty thousand?" Sarah couldn't even imagine that sort of money, at least not all at once. Molly smiled. "Swords cost money, you know." She shrugged. "Of course, if the other two shipments go through, he'll be able to absorb that loss more easily." "And what if we take two? Or all three?" "He must need the money, so the loss of potential profit will hurt a lot, plus the cost of the weapons themselves which he will still owe to Ironhold will be another debt on top of what's already there. Unless he has another source of ready income, he'll have to raise taxes." Sarah frowned. She had heard her parents grumbling about taxes on many occasions. "That sounds like it'll hurt the common folk more than the king." "In the short run, yes. The more he raises taxes, however, the less support he'll have to maintain his reign. The nobility will feel the pressure too, and his power base will erode. If it goes on long enough, he'll find himself faced with a challenge for the throne." "Civil war? That doesn't sound much better." "Toppling a king is a messy business, Sarah. There's no way around it. If it makes you feel any better, it probably wouldn't last very long; Alfred isn't a warrior king, so he doesn't have a loyal army of his own like Stephen and others like him had. He would have to depend solely on the support of his political allies, which would be thin with the royal coffers running low." Sarah weighed her options. Finally, she nodded. "All right. Let's do it."
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Chapter 39 added Sep 23, 2005
Captain Grayson's contact arrived a few days later aboard a nondescript carrack. They began transferring the cargo, inspecting each crate as it went over to estimate the value of its contents. Alliardo and Molly served as Sarah's agents, as she herself was expert on neither weapons nor haggling. In the meantime, Sarah was closeted with Carathix and Randall making plans for the upcoming raid. Their discussion of boarding tactics was interrupted by a knock at the cabin door. The door opened, and Molly poked her head in. Grinning, she beckoned to Sarah. "I've got something to show you." Curious, Sarah went out onto the main deck. Molly led her toward one of the smaller crates, which was sitting next to the rail near the gangplank. She lifted the top of the crate, revealing a series of long boxes made of dark, polished wood. Intrigued, Sarah opened one of the boxes. Lying on a velvet cushion within was an exquisitely wrought rapier. Its blade was hidden within a lacquered cherry scabbard, but the intricate swept hilt sparkled with gold and gems. The fluted pommel weight was a tiny treasure all by itself, with delicate engraving along each of its raised ridges. "It's beautiful," she breathed. She looked up at Molly. "Are they just decorative?" Molly flipped open another of the cases, revealing yet another dazzling rapier. She lifted it out and drew the blade out a few inches. She showed it to Sarah. The inlaid gold along the ricasso was fine to look at, but the wavy pattern on the steel of the blade itself showed that it was more than a piece of heavy jewelry. Molly had described such blades to Sarah before in wistful tones, but neither of them had ever seen one in person. The dark haired swordswoman pulled the sword all the way free, swinging it in a few whistling arcs. "A blade like this would eat one of ours for breakfast, with hardly a nick to show for it." She stabbed the needle point into the deck and pushed. The blade bent so far that Sarah was sure it would snap, but as Molly yanked it back it returned to its previous arrow-straight shape. "Strong yet flexible, like a good sword should be." Sarah opened the rest of the cases, finding a total of four rapiers and as many broadswords, each a marvel of Ironhold craftsmanship. "These must have been slated for nobles or officers. A rapier for each of us, a broadsword for Alec," she said, counting on her fingers. She tried to imagine Lars with one of these glittering confections on his hip. She shook her head and chuckled. "What about Alliardo?" Molly closed one eye, looking down along the razor edge of one of the other rapiers. "He carries a cutlass, but I doubt he's terribly particular about it. One of these fancy rapiers would make him a proud little peacock." "I'm almost afraid to imagine it." Sarah smiled. "But he certainly deserves it. I think he still misses the hat/" She looked over the collection of weapons. "The rest of them should fetch a good price. Good work, Molly." They went through the rapiers, each selecting one that had a balance that appealed to her. As she walked back across the deck, Sarah removed her old sword from the worn leather hanger at her hip. She buckled the new rapier in place; she made a mental note to start wearing more jewelry so it wouldn't look so conspicuous. As she opened the door to her cabin, she saw only Randall sitting at the table, poring over a sea chart. "Where's Carathix?" The pirate captain waved his hand vaguely. "He went to do something... arcane." He looked up as Sarah closed the door, his eyes drawn to the shining golden hilt at her hip. "That's a beautiful sword." He met her eyes with his own and smiled. "It suits you." Sarah mumbled her thanks as she looked for a place to stow her old weapon. During their recent planning sessions she had gotten to know Randall better. She had been put off at first by his brash manner, but the more she saw him away from the public eye, the less abrasive he became. He turned out to be quite charming without the braggadocio, and even his salty speech all but vanished when they were alone. She put the sword in a chest and returned to the table. Three small carvings of ships sat on the table, each representing one of the vessels that would be involved in the raid. They were arranged on a large wax tablet with lines scribed into its surface to represent their courses. "So, this is the plan?" Randall shrugged. "It's a plan. We won't know exactly what we'll do until the time comes." He toyed with a small chunk of biscuit that had portrayed an escort vessel earlier that morning. "We just need to coordinate our signals so we can alter our plans on the fly." Sarah leaned forward, drumming her fingers on the table. They had gone over a dozen different scenarios, coming up with a response to each. In the end, though, there was no way to know what would really happen. They could only hope that they had prepared for what actually came to pass. She shook her head. "So, assuming we survive this, what do you plan to do with your share of the take?" "The men have been grumbling about shore leave. I figure we may find a nice little Midlander town to amuse ourselves in for a while." He looked over at Sarah. "I thought that, perhaps--" Sarah yanked her hand back as she felt unexpected fingers on hers. She immediately felt badly as she saw the pained expression in Randall's eyes. Suddenly he looked even younger than the twenty-three years he claimed. "I'm sorry," she said, "I..." Randall nodded as he pulled his own hand back slowly. "I understand. The wizard?" "What?" Sarah hadn't ever mentioned her feelings about Syphar to anyone, not even Molly. Before she could get any more flustered about it, though, she saw Randall glance meaningfully at the empty chair where Carathix had been sitting. She laughed, shaking her head as she relaxed again. "No, there's nothing between me and Carathix. I just... I'm not ready..." "No need to explain yourself," said Randall, his pirate grin returning. He started rearranging the wooden ships, rubbing out the lines on the table. "Let's just worry about getting through this insane notion of ours first. I just thought of something they might do." Sarah couldn't help but smile as she watched him enact a nightmare scenario involving a fleet of Royal Navy grapes.
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Chapter 4 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah tried to pull her hand away, but the man's grip was tight. "I thought you were asleep." The man raised an eyebrow. "And you thought it was acceptable to steal from a sleeping man?" "Well, I..." Sarah lowered her eyes. "I was hungry, that's all." "Hmm." He ran his free hand through his short black hair. "You don't look much like a thief. At least not like I would expect a thief to look; we don't really have any around here." "Oh?" He grinned. "Most thieves know better than to mess with wizards." He laughed at the expression on Sarah's face. "Don't you know where you are? Stormwatch is a wizards' college." "I... I didn't know." The clean streets and well maintained buildings made more sense now. She looked up at her captor. "What are you going to do with me?" "I should turn you in to the Masters," he said sternly. His brow furrowed, then he stood and opened the cottage door. He gestured and the crystal floated through the air and into his hand. "Come inside." Sarah could see no other option. She figured that a well placed kick might incapacitate even a wizard long enough for her to escape, but it was more of a risk than she was willing to take. The inside of the small cottage was dark, but another wave of the wizard's hand summoned a globe of white light that floated near the ceiling. The one room house was filled with books, scrolls, crystals, and a variety of objects and vessels that were not immediately identifiable. The man closed the door and released his hold on Sarah's wrist. He sat on the edge of the narrow bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So what are you doing in Stormwatch?" When Sarah hesitated, he sighed. "If I was going to turn you in, I would have done it already. I'm just curious." He gestured to a chair next to Sarah. "Have a seat. My name's Syphar." "That's an, uh, unsusal name," said Sarah as she sat in the chair. Her legs felt like lead after the day's long hike. Syphar smiled. "It's a wizard's name. It's traditional for a wizard to take a new name when they join the Cabal. It represents the severing of ties to our former lives. It's meant to keep wizards out of politics." "Oh?" Suddenly Sarah had a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she had found safe haven after all. "So you wizards are completely independent?" "Well, not quite. The Cabal owes its allegiance to the Crown, no matter whose head it sits on. We are bound to defend the kingdom against enemies from without, and stay out of internal struggles." Sarah felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Her safe haven had become the dragon's lair. She dropped her head in her hands and moaned. "What's wrong?" asked Syphar. Sarah's head snapped up. The days and nights of running in fear had worn her down. If she was going to die, she would not go silently. "Would you serve the Crown if it were worn by a monster? For it soon will be." Syphar sat up straight at the unexpected outburst. "What do you mean?" "King Stephen is dead, betrayed by his William Arden and his thrice damned Inquisitor. You will be serving a traitor and a murderer." The wizard's mouth opened and closed several times before he could get any words out. When he spoke, his voice was a low whisper. "It can't be true! How could you know this?" "I saw it with my own eyes. They killed everyone in the King's household, but they didn't count on any visitors." She struck her fist on her chest. "It's my blood they want to cover their black deeds. Will you be the one to give it to them?" Syphar shook his head. "I can't believe it. But..." He looked at Sarah as if seeing her for the first time. "I heard some of the Masters talking this morning. They had received an order to watch the border for a fugitive. You never would have made it out alive." Sarah's head dropped into her hands. "It's over then. I have nowhere left to go." "Perhaps you do." Sarah looked up, confusion on her tear streaked face. Syphar smiled. "I think I know a way to get you out."
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Chapter 40 added Sep 23, 2005
Carathix opened his eyes and turned to Sarah. "Well, they're not taking any chances this time. It looks like they're shooting down any bird that comes within bow range of the ship." Sarah nodded. "If they're shooting down all birds, then they may not know we're here yet." "No, but they're expecting us." He looked out over the hazy sea in the direction he had sent his ill fated gull. "Fortunately, there's only the one ship. There are a lot of soldiers on deck, though; we're not going to be able to walk over them like last time." "What about wizards?" "I counted four. It looks like Alfred was able to get support from Stormwatch. I recognized one of them as Master Lagorse." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Who is Master Lagorse, anyway? Syphar kept using that name." Carathix chuckled. "Lagorse is something of a joke at the college. He's famous for incredibly dull lectures and an amazing lack of either personality or humor." His smile faded. "Still, he's a Stormwatch Master, which means he alone is the equal of the three they sent last time. The others are probably his apprentices, so they'll be coordinated." We just have to hope our plan works. Sarah took the wheel and had her first mate plot an intercept course. There would be no chasing this time. As the sails moved to catch the wind, Sarah felt the ship begin to pick up speed. All eyes were trained forward, waiting for their target to appear on the horizon. The Just Reward's captain nervously fingered the hilt of her new rapier. Though it wasn't something she normally did, she silently prayed that all was well aboard the Burning Eye, wherever it was. After nearly half an hour of nothing but open sea, the lookout announced the first sight of the frigate. The tiny speck grew as they approached it at a steep angle. Even though both ships could see each other, they were still too far apart to do anything but look at each other. Carathix made his way to the starboard rail, looking out over the waves. When the two ships dew close enough that Sarah could barely make out individual people on deck, Carathix began taking items out of his satchel. He held a coppery sphere in the palm of each hand. As he lowered his head and began to hum softly, the balls rose up and began to spin. A few heartbeats later they were whirling like tops and glowing slightly. He tossed them upward and they arced high into the air, giving off a brilliant green radiance as they sailed toward the Navy frigate. Blue fire streaked out from two different places before they got near their target, and the projectiles were destroyed. The scene was repeated once more, with identical results. For all its flash, the display had no effect on the enemy ship, which continued on its course. Unperturbed, Carathix turned and held out his hands, once more increasing the flow of wind across the sails. Sarah pulled hard on the wheel, bringing the Reward around in a tight turn to starboard. The crew braced themselves as the ship heeled over. They were approaching their quarry rapidly now, on a perpendicular course across their bow. They could see the name painted there at this distance: Fortitude. If they kept their course, the Reward would ram the Fortitude's starboard side, but the difference in tonnage made such a proposition laughable. Instead, Sarah maintained the turn, slowly coming about to match their enemy's course. They were reaching the extreme edge of ballista range, and the Fortitude fired a volley of eight foot shafts across the waves. Most of them missed, but one of the projectiles slammed through the port hull. It was well above the waterline, but Sarah ordered a repair crew below just to be safe. They still had a few minutes before the real battle would begin. The Reward's ballista crews returned fire. The Fortitude, being both larger and still keeping a straight course, was an easier target, and two bolts stuck in the side of the frigate's massive hull. While the damage there was minimal, another shot struck the deck, sending both planks and sailors flying. First blood had been drawn. As the distance closed still further, Sarah could see four nearly identical robed men standing near the Fortitude's starboard rail. The first of them let loose a jet of blue flame. Carathix threw up his hands, and the fiery bolt splattered harmlessly on his magical defense. Almost immediately the second wizard followed suit, and so on down the line. The flames kept streaking across, targeting different parts of the ship, but Carathix's shield was strong enough to keep them from doing any damage. Their constant barrage, however, left him with no chance to retaliate. The Fortitude's marines began to mass near the rail, eagerly awaiting their chance for revenge. Arrows began flying back and forth, forcing sailors on both sides to take cover. The Reward's ballista crews were pinned down, but the frigate was still able to get off some shots, striking two solid blows across the Reward's deck. The two ships were running nearly parallel now. Sarah nodded to Mordial, who pulled another copper ball from his pocket. While he was unable to send it flying as high as Carathix, his toss carried up up over both ships, where it exploded in a flash of green. Even as Sarah turned the wheel sharply to port, shouts went up from the far side of the Fortitude. Carathix had said that the magical cloak he had constructed for the Burning Eye would not stand up to direct scrutiny, especially not from Stormwatch wizards. The addition of a mundane bit of misdirection, however, had turned that flimsy glamour into a devastating sneak attack. As soon as the final signal flare burst above the battle, the Eye's boarding party had begun its assault on the Fortitude's port side. As she joined her own boarders scrambling over the starboard rail, Sarah was amazed by the vicious assault coming from Grayson's crew. They whooped bloodthirsty war cries as they ran headlong into battle. Their captain was the loudest of the lot, dressed in even more outlandish garb than usual. Sarah had little time to gawk, however, as she was busy putting her new rapier to the test. Carathix had stayed behind on the Reward during the initial assault, and not only because he was drained from maintaining his mystical shield for so long. Up on the frigate's rocking deck, the crowd of sailors and pirates made the four wizards next to useless. They managed to get off a few destructive blasts when opportunities presented themselves, but as often as not they had no clear target through the swirling melee. Eventually the fearless raiders from the Burning Eye ran them down. The last of the apprentices jumped overboard rather than face them. As the bloody battle began to wind down, Carathix joined the boarding party. He helped to hold the hatches as the pirates re-enacted the looting of the first shipment. The remaining marines were bottled up on the fore and aft castles, held at bay by the bristling swords of Grayson's raiders. The standoff gave the rest of the pirates enough time to move the crates of weapons aboard the two grappled vessels on either side. In a few minutes the hold was stripped bare, and the pirates withdrew, victorious once more.
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Chapter 41 added Sep 23, 2005
The losses on both sides of the battle were heavier the second time than the first, but that fact did nothing to dampen the pirates' jubilant mood. They had become pirates to get rich, after all, not to die of old age. Sarah's arm was in a sling beneath her doublet; she had wrenched her shoulder trying to extract herself from a messy engagement with one of the Fortitude's marines. She was sitting once more in the tavern at Blood Tide Cove, surrounded by her friends and comrades. Randall was beside her, his arm comfortably draped across her shoulders. He had resumed his wooing as soon as they returned to port, bringing her breakfast in bed and a full fleet of carved wooden pirate ships. He had admitted to a certain confusion as to how to show his affection. His usual technique of buying extravagant gifts was useless, as Sarah now had a fortune easily equal to his own. Her reluctance slowly evaporated under his unwavering attention, and she eventually agreed to give him a chance. The last two weeks had been spent in lazy relaxation and recuperation. Alec had been sent south to learn the king's reaction to their latest raid. It was with some interest, therefore, that Sarah greeted him as he came into the loud tavern. "Alec!" She shoved a chair out from the far side of the table with one foot. "What news do you have for us?" He fell into the chair and grabbed a random bottle of wine to slake his thirst. "Well, suffice to say King Alfred is quite put out." Laughs cascaded around the table. Sarah's mirth was muted, however, as she saw something out of place in Alec's expression. "Go on. What else?" "After the loss of the first two shipments, the third was canceled and sent back to Ironhold." They had expected something of the sort. The profits from the first two raids were more than enough to make them all rich, though. "This has put the Crown in something of a financial bind." He glanced up at Sarah, then looked down at his hands on the table. "He's seeking support from the Church again." Sarah slammed her fist on the table, causing a few unattended goblets to fall over. "No! He can't do that." "Apparently, he can." Randall removed his suddenly empty arm from Sarah's chair. "What do we care if he goes looking for Church gold? They'll just put him further in debt." Molly laid a hand on Sarah's shoulder and looked across at Randall. "She's afraid they're going to try to start up the Inquisition again." Alec nodded. "I did a little more digging, and it looks like he's sending Monsignor Ignatius down to Tavis to petition the Holy Emperor in person." Sarah raised her head up. "The Holy Emperor's seat is on the far side of the peninsula, isn't it?" Another nod. "Ignatius is still in Crown Bay. If they're trying to get him to Tavis as soon as possible, they'll send him by sea." Molly sat back in her seat, arms folded. Randall kept silent. Alliardo looked back and forth between the three of them. "You're not suggesting we go up against the Church?" "She'll do it," said Molly, "if she has to hold a sword in her teeth and swim." "There's no profit in it," he muttered half heartedly. Finally, he shrugged. "Well, your luck has held this long, Captain. I'll just have to hope I can ride it all the way." Molly and Alec said nothing; their agreement was understood. Randall scratched at his beard. "Well, I promised my men some shore leave." He grinned at Sarah. "But they can do that without me. Honestly, I doubt I could get them on board this time. They're not men of especially high ideals, when you get right down to it." He took Sarah's good hand and kissed it. "If you'll have me, I'll serve under you for this voyage."
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Chapter 42 added Sep 23, 2005
It was less than three weeks since the Just Reward's victory over Fortitude, and they were back at sea again. The mood of the crew was subdued. Sarah had explained the situation to them before they left Blood Tide, and gave them leave to stay behind. Every one of them had chosen to go with her. There was no treasure at stake this time, and a completely unknown amount of risk. Carathix had known the capabilities of both ships and men in their last two raids. What defenses a Church vessel might have was a mystery. Such an attack was completely unprecedented, unless you believed the stories the Church itself spread to vilify pirates. If anyone had ever tried such an attack, they hadn't lived to boast of it. In addition to the obvious risks to life and limb, they stood a significant chance of being excommunicated -- their souls would be condemned to eternal darkness. Despite their bravado and nautical superstitions. the thought cast a pall over the crew's morale. All of them had heard stories of the last reign of terror the Inquisition visited on the Kufriti people. Sarah was determined to keep such evil from happening again, and her crew were resolved to support her. They owed their fortunes to her, and no few owed their lives to her or one of her companions. Still, the mood was dark. As if summoned by their collective gloom, a low ceiling of gray clouds obscured the early morning sun. A steady drizzle had long since soaked them from head to toe. Carathix's gull shook itself as it perched on the ship's rail. He unhooked the silver charm from around its neck and sent it on its way. He turned to Sarah with a grim expression. "Did you get a good look at it?" she asked. "Sadly, yes." He shook his head. "From the looks of it I'd say it's a Kuning vessel, about the same tonnage as the Reward." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Kuning?" "One of the Moril Duchies; their ships are widely regarded as near indestructible. Very expensive, but worth every penny if you can get your hands on one. A pirate's worst nightmare, especially if they get it in their heads to ram you." He pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders, though it made him no drier. "Not many defenders that I could see on deck, but the ones I saw were wearing Inquisitor black. They'll fight to the death if it comes to it." "I see." Sarah chewed her lip as she contemplated their odds. "Any wizards aboard?" "No, but that doesn't mean much. The Church has never done more than tolerate wizardry in any of its forms. There's no way they'd trust the safety of one of their ships to a mage. They have their own ways, though; there's more to a priest's power than healing, you know." Sarah scowled as she recalled the day that had set her on this path so long ago. "I know it all too well." She nodded her head firmly. "We attack." This last was said to Mordial, who went to pass the word. "Are you sure this is wise?" asked Carathix after the first mate was out of earshot. "I am sure of nothing. But that's why we have a backup plan, right?" "I don't think the backup plan is much better," muttered Carathix, but he said no more on the subject. Wet ropes creaked as the sails were turned to catch the wind. The Just Reward eased forward through the choppy waves. Randall came up from the main deck to join Sarah. He was dressed in uncharacteristically sober attire, blending in with the rest of the crew. No amount of swagger and flash would rattle the dour Inquisitors. He laid a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "The men are ready. Just get us close enough to board and they'll do what needs to be done." Sarah nodded. She knew that it would be a difficult battle -- perhaps a hopeless one -- but she had come too far to turn back now. Her hat kept the rain from dripping into her eyes, but the weather still cut visibility to barely a mile. Slowly, a shape began to materialize through the haze of rain. It was a wide, pot bellied hull, cutting through the water like a bull fording a river. The forbidding black sails blazed with the burning white sun of the Inquisition. White letters across her bow spelled out the name Scourge. The Reward was coming in at a sharp angle toward the Church ship's bow. Sarah slowly eased her vessel into a parallel course that would bring the two ships alongside each other. There was no doubt that they had been spotted as well, but the black ship made no alteration to her own heading. Carathix had moved to the top of the main mast as they approached. As the two ships drew nearer still, he launched a stream of golden fire toward the billowing black sails. It arced across the waves, painting both ships with shimmering light. Before it could reach its target, however, the fire splashed harmlessly on an invisible barrier, skittering down its ovoid surface to fall, hissing, into the water. Sarah looked up to the crow's nest to see Carathix shaking his head. Sarah ordered her archers to the port rail. They arrayed themselves near the bow and began sending volleys of arrows toward the enemy ship. The black-cloaked soldiers moved to the Scourge's rail, kneeling behind the high wall that framed the black ship's deck. Crossbows appeared at the top of the rail, and the returning fire streaked across in nearly straight lines. The cluster of archers scattered as quarrels ripped through their position. They returned fire, but there was little for them to target except for planks and steel helms. Before Sarah could think of a response to the Scourge's defenses, she saw a tall, pale-skinned man emerging from the ship's rear cabin. Though she had only seen him twice, Ignatius was unmistakable. He was unarmored and standing unprotected amidships. The Reward's archers were only too happy to see an easy target, and took aim. Ignatius calmly raised his hands. White light streamed from his eyes, and a dozen archers froze with their bows half-drawn. A thrum of crossbows felled the transfixed men like trees. The two ships were passing now, their rails but a few yards apart. There were deck-mounted grapples on the Reward that could draw the them together even at this speed, but Sarah would not subject her men to what would surely be a massacre. Carathix had returned to the deck, and stood now before Sarah. "What now?" he asked. "We run." She locked eyes with Ignatius as they sailed past each other. Even though it had been nearly four years for him, she could see the recognition in the priest's eyes. "He will follow."
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Chapter 43 added Sep 23, 2005
It was nearly noon, but the heavy storm clouds had kept them in a perpetual twilight. The rain was falling harder now, lashing across the deck in sheets. There was no longer any need for weapons; every hand on deck was holding a rope. The Just Reward rose and fell on the swells as it sped westward into the wind. Sarah looked aft; the Scourge pursued them still, following like a shadow. Sarah turned back to Mordial, who gripped the wheel with both hands. "Don't get too far ahead of them. If they turn back now all of this will have been for nothing." "I'll do my best," replied the first mate through gritted teeth. "Do you really think he'll follow us in?" "He has faith in the Bright Lord's ability to protect him from the dangers of the sea. I've seen enough orphans and widows to know that he's wrong." She looked down toward the center of the main deck, where Carathix kneeled just aft of the main mast. "I have more than prayers on my side." Alec came running back from the bow, "Land ho!" he cried. Sarah peered ahead through the rain. She could just barely make out a pair of islands up ahead through the rain. There were more beyond them, she knew. The Twelve Sisters were a small group of islands along the passage from Jal Kufri to Moril, best known as a hiding place for the most desperate of pirates. The passage through them was treacherous at the best of times, and nearly suicidal in weather such as this. She looked back down at Alec. "Pass the word to Carathix. It's time." She watched as Alec ran to tell Carathix of the islands' approach. The wizard replied with little more than a nod. Even through the rain Sarah could see the shimmering of air around him as he began to draw power to himself. Slowly, a soft golden glow began to spread out from him, creeping along the deck like a hundred grasping fingers. The glow began to intensify, and Sarah could feel their speed increasing. She gave the order to reduce sail and went to look down over the aft rail. The narrow wake that spread out behind them was a testament to Carathix's abilities: he was lifting the entire ship, allowing it to ride higher in the water. While this would allow them to go faster, that was not her primary goal. The passage through the Twelve Sisters was full of rocks and reefs that had been the doom of countless ships over the years. She looked back at the broad hull of the Scourge and hoped that her luck would hold long enough for Ignatius's to fail. The shadowy bulk of the two islands loomed on either side of them now, and the profiles of the other islands were coming to view. The Scourge was still behind them; both ships were now fully committed to their course. Watching the other ship would do no more good now, so Sarah went down with the rest of the crew to do what she could to keep them afloat. Though he was no longer the captain, Mordial was still a far more experienced pilot than Sarah and so his hands were the ones on the ship's wheel. Lookouts posted around the rails called back the locations of rocks and other visible hazards, allowing Mordial to adjust course to avoid them. Even with the shallower draft provided by Carathix's continuing enchantment, Sarah could hear rocks scraping along the hull more than a few times. As they weaved through the islands, Sarah began to wonder what would happen if both ships managed to miraculously make the journey unharmed. It wasn't a scenario she had given much thought to. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by a loud cry from the aft rail. A jubilant sailor was waving his arms in the air, shouting, "She's hit! She's hit!" Sarah raced to the stern, looking back through the rain. Indeed, the Scourge was listing heavily to one side. The nigh impenetrable Kuning hull could apparently only take so much punishment. As she watched, the slewing ship struck another large rock that stuck up through the waves. Even across the hundred yards that separated the two vessels, she could hear the sound of splintering timber. The impact stopped the Scourge dead in the water, but the winds that howled through the narrow passage kept their hold on her sails, slowly toppling the ship over on its side. A cheer went up from the crowd gathered at the Reward's stern. Before they had time to do any more, however, the entire ship lurched as it crashed down into the churning water. Sarah ran forward to see Carathix sprawled on the deck, the glow of his magic rapidly fading. A deep grinding noise could be felt through the hull as the keel struck some invisible rock below the water's surface. "All hands to your stations!" shouted Sarah. She grabbed the sleeve of one of the men still standing on the poopdeck. "Get me a damage report," she ordered as she propelled him toward the stairs to the main deck. She ran down to check on Carathix. Molly was already there, picking the limp wizard up in her arms. "He's alive, just out cold." She staggered as the ship was rocked by another collision. "Though we may all be dead soon enough." The sailor Sarah had sent below climbed back up from below decks. "We're holed and taking on water, Captain. We might be able to repair it in calmer weather, but..." He shrugged and shook his head. Sarah growled. She looked about through the rain, then ran back up to Mordial at the wheel. She pointed out across the waves. "I think I see a beach over there. We're taking on water; we'll have to run her aground there." Mordial frowned. "What if we don't have enough wood on board to make repairs? I don't think there's any trees on these islands." "Our only other option is to go down with the ship." "Aground it is, then." He turned the wheel. There were several more small collisions as the Reward limped toward the beach, but she managed to make it to shore mostly intact. The keel lodged in the rocky shelf with a long scrape. The ship finally ground to a halt, leaning heavily to starboard. The cheer that had been cut short earlier went up again. They were stranded on a remote island with a heavily damaged ship, but they were still alive. Even more, they had managed to do something that was widely regarded as impossible. Whatever the future held for them, the present was a time to celebrate.
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Chapter 44 added Sep 23, 2005
The clouds broke shortly after the Reward made its awkward landing, as though the sun saw fit to congratulate them as well. Sarah sat on a rock a few dozen yards up the beach from the ship, watching the sailors swarming around it as they examined the damage that had been sustained during the treacherous passage. Molly came walking along the beach toward her. "Carathix is going to be okay, I think, once he wakes up." Sarah nodded. "Good. How does the ship look?" Molly shrugged. "There's a lot of damage. It might be more than we can repair with what we have on hand. Alliardo thinks that Carathix might know some tricks that could help, but we won't know that until later. He told me to go see if there's any lumber to be had on this rock." Sarah looked up the slope of grass and low scrub. It was a small island, but it was possible there might be a few trees on the far side. She stood up from her rocky seat. "Well, I'm not going to be much use here. I'll go with you." The two women strolled wordlessly along the beach, steam rising from their clothes as the sun began to dry them out again. After a while, Molly broke the silence. "So what's next on your agenda? Shall we go reunite Moril?" Sarah chuckled. "No, I think it may be time to relax for a while." She looked over at Molly. "I really appreciate you sticking with me though all this madness." "It's been a wild ride, that's for sure. I can't say I'm sorry to see the end of it, though. Maybe we should--" Molly was cut off in mid-sentence as a she was struck on the head by a fist-sized rock held by a black-gloved hand. Sarah whirled around, her hand flying to her rapier. Ignatius was soaking wet, his heavy black cloak nowhere in sight. Without it he looked even more gaunt than normal, his vestments plastered to his lean frame. A gash across his shorn head dripped blood down his face, but he looked otherwise unharmed. He tossed the rock aside and drew his broadsword with a rasp of steel. "Finally we meet." Sarah pulled her rapier free just in time to intercept a powerful overhead swing. Despite his lack of bulk, he was surprisingly strong. Each blow that Sarah blocked jarred her from wrists to shoulders as she backpedaled along the rocky beach. It took a moment for her to recover from the shock of the Inquisitor's sudden appearance. As she caught his blade once more on her own sword, she gave thanks to whatever Ironhold smith had forged it with such strength. She also began to recall the lessons that Molly had taught her when she had first picked up a blade. Ignatius was stronger, and his sword was more massive, but that was no guarantee of victory. Sarah adjusted her defense slightly, angling her own blade so the broadsword was deflected rather than stopped dead. As Ignatius recovered the heavy blade for another swing, she flicked her rapier out quickly, cutting a small gash across his ribs before she had to reposition it to parry again. While he was powerful and no stranger to swordplay, Ignatius was not the finest of fencers. Sarah gave ground a step ata a time, maintaining her defense and making small cuts as she found the opportunity. One solid strike from the broadsword would finish her, but the numerous tiny slashes she was delivering were beginning to take their toll. Finally, Ignatius stepped back, his sword held low before him. "Enough," he said, raising his other hand. Light flared from his eyes, and it engulfed Sarah in an instant. *** "Would you like another grape?" Sarah sat up and opened her mouth. Syphar popped a grape between her lips. She smiled as she chewed the sweet fruit, looking out over the grassy field toward the nearby walls of Crown Bay. The bright afternoon sun glistened on the water beyond. It was a perfect day. Syphar sat next to her on the blanket, a basket of food sitting in front of him. He poured wine into a pair of goblets, handing one of them to Sarah. "It's wonderful, just sitting here together, isn't it?" he said. "I can't imagine anyplace I'd rather be." She leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss. Taking a sip of wine, she watched the wildflowers swaying in the summer breeze. "This reminds me of somewhere," she said. "Hm? What do you mean?" "I can't put my finger on it. It's such a beautiful day, almost like it's a dream." Her smile faded slowly. "It's like being in Faerie." Syphar laughed. "Faerie? I never thought you were one for children's stories." Sarah turned and looked sadly at Syphar. She touched his cheek softly with her hand, trying to memorize his face as she saw it now: happy and without worry. "It's just like I remember Faerie. Where I went after... after you died." She shook her head, ignoring the confused look on his face. "It's a beautiful dream, but I can't live in a dream world. Goodbye, Syphar." *** Sarah lunged, piercing Ignatius's heart with one smooth stroke. The light in his eyes flickered out as blood gushed from his chest. She twisted the blade as she drew it back, and Ignatius was dead almost before he hit the ground. She looked down at his body, seeing him up close for the first time. After so much time living in fear of him, she was surprised to see that he looked like any other man in death. She left him where he lay and walked toward Molly, who was groaning as she regained consciousness. "What happened?" she asked. Sarah looked back at the black clad body as the waves lapped around it. "Nothing we need to worry about anymore."
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Chapter 5 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah wrapped her arms around her knees. The darkness inside the crate was nearly complete, save for a small hole in one side. Syphar had taken her to a storehouse near his cottage and instructed her to get in one of the empty crates. "How are you doing in there?" came Syphar's voice from outside. "Cramped." Sarah shifted uncomfortably. "What am I doing in here?" Syphar chuckled. "One of my duties is to transfer supplies to some of the other colleges. I plan to make an unscheduled delivery. With some luck, we should be able to get across the border before we're found out." "We?" asked Sarah. "Aiding a fugitive isn't going to do much good for my career. I don't expect I'll be coming back here." Sarah hadn't thought about that. "Why are you doing this for me?" "Because I believe you. Besides, if your story is true, then I have no desire to serve a traitor." A numinous blue glow began to filter through the knothole. "Get ready. It's time for us to go." Sarah jumped as she felt the crate lift off the ground. She braced herself with her hands on the sides of the crate as it swayed slightly. "Try to stay still," said Syphar. The crate began to move, following Syphar as he walked out of the storehouse. Sarah could make out the street outside through her small peephole. She watched the people passing by, fearful that any one of them might see through their ruse. Eventually they approached a tall, ornate tower. Its gilded spire reached up into the sky, bristling with intricate filigree. Syphar placed his hand on the massive double doors and they swung aside silently. The interior of the tower appeared to be a single vast chamber. The tapping of Syphar's boots on the black granite floor echoed loudly as he made his way to the center of the room. Sarah trailed behind him in her box, barely breathing in her attempt to remain still. Through her tiny window, Sarah could see armed men standing around the perimeter of the room, their black enameled armor making it seem as though they were carved in one piece from the floor. They held their wicked looking halberds straight and still, but Sarah didn't doubt that they could be brought to bear with great speed. The crate glided to a stop, and she could hear Syphar speaking with an unseen person. "What's this?" said the unfamiliar voice. Sarah could hear the rustling of paper. "There aren't any deliveries scheduled for today." "This is a replacement for the cadmus globes Master Lagorse sent to Skytooth last week. One of the apprentices unloading the last one dropped one of the globes and --" he made a shattering sound. The other voice grunted. "A waste of precious materials. I wouldn't want to be that apprentice." Syphar chuckled. "Nor would I." "All right. take your position." Sarah could hear the sound of a pen scratching on paper. "Tell Lagorse to file the proper paperwork next time." The crate began moving again. As she floated toward the center of the room, Sarah could see bizarre symbols inlaid in the granite floor with shining gold. They seemed to form a circle in the center of the room. After a few moments, the crate stopped and slowly descended to the floor. The voice began speaking again, but this time the words were in a strange cant that seemed ill-suited for a human tongue. Sarah could feel the hair on her arms begin to stand up, and her eyes started to itch. The golden symbols started to glow. She clenched her teeth against a scream as the golden circle flashed with a blinding light. Sarah clutched her skull with her hands. It seemed as though her head were about to explode. Her ears popped painfully. She opened her eyes a fraction of an inch. Everything seemed as it was before outside her peephole. The same room, the same gold circle, the same armored men. It was only when she heard Syphar repeating his story to a new voice that Sarah realized that they were somewhere else. After a few minutes, Syphar was allowed to go on his way. Sarah floated along behind him in her crate, the pain in her head slowly receding. Wherever they were now, the scene was far less inviting than the shining lanes of Stormwatch. The buildings were equally ornate and the streets as clean, but there was a grimness to the place that made her feel quite unwelcome. The crate finally came to a halt in another dark storehouse. As she settled to the floor, a dim light blinked into existence, illuminating the shelves and boxes filling the small building. Sarah let out a sigh as Syphar pried the top from her wooden prison. He grinned down at her, though she could see that the ruse had put a great strain on him. Sarah stood up, wincing as her cramped muscles protested. "You were wonderful, Syphar. Thank you." The wizard chuckled. "It was nothing." He turned toward the shelves lining the walls. "Now, we're going to need --" Sarah laid a hand on Syphar's arm as she stepped out of the crate. He turned back to her, and she locked her eyes with his. "I mean it," she said. "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I don't know what would have happened." Syphar nodded, but she could see that he was still worried. "They won't be far behind. We need to move fast, or all of this will have been for naught." He placed his hand on hers. "Thank me when we get across the border."
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Chapter 6 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah fastened on the enchanted cloak that Syphar had given her. The pack full of food and water skins made a hump under the light material falling down her back. "Ready?" asked the wizard. After Sarah checked the brooch on her cloak and nodded, her pushed the door open and led the way out. "Stay close behind me," he warned, "and keep quiet. The wizards of the Skytooth are notoriously unwelcoming of strangers, wizards or no." Sarah followed as he instructed, though she nearly stopped dead in her tracks as they stepped out into the street. She knew that they must have been transported somewhere else by that magical circle, but she had no idea how far. The place called Skytooth was a forest of lofty towers encircled by snow capped mountain peaks. The road sloped downward, and beyond the sea of towers was a vast expanse of ice-clad stone crags. having spent her whole life on the sea coast, the unexpected sight of looming mountains was quite disorienting. She focused her attention on Syphar's back and hurried along behind him. Evening was falling swiftly as the sun dipped behind the mountains. Sarah could see clouds of breath billowing before her, though she felt quite warm. She nearly ran into Syphar as he stopped suddenly. She stifled the impulse to ask him what the problem was. She looked further down the road and saw a gate ahead, leading through a thick wall to a canyon beyond. The gate was open, but two pairs of burly guards flanked the opening. Sarah could hear Syphar muttering something in the same weird tongue the wizard in Stormwatch had spoken. The air seemed to ripple around him, like the air above a stone on a hot summer day. Sarah felt her skin tingle again, but before she could wonder what it meant Syphar was moving again. She had to hurry to keep up with him. They passed by the guards without drawing so much as a glance. Syphar continued his rapid pace onto the snow-covered road, not slowing until they rounded a bend that hid them from the gate. Sarah panted, shrouding her head in white clouds. "What...? How...?" Syphar leaned heavily against the canyon wall. Within his hood Sarah could see beads of sweat rolling down his face. "I warded us from their sight, both mundane and magical." He smiled. "Stormwatch has many tricks, not all of which it shares with its sister schools." He pushed himself away from the rough stone, adjusting his pack on his shoulders. "Come on. we have to keep moving." They walked as far as they could, making their way down the snowy road as the evening sun dimmed to twilight. The faint light cast by the sliver of moon made the going treacherous. They found an outcropping of rock that provided some shelter, though the area beneath it was piled high with windblown snow. "We have nothing to dig with," said Sarah. "Don't worry about that." Syphar 's cloak parted as he extended his hand out toward the snow bank. Sarah could see the air rippling around him again. She hadn't had the opportunity before to really watch how Syphar worked his magic. It was fascinating. For the first time, she noticed a silver ring on his right hand, set with a large blue sapphire. As she watched, the stone began to glow from within. Snow began to fly up from beneath the stone ledge, swirling faster as the stone glowed brighter. Soon the swirling ice crystals began to form a tight lattice enclosing the area beneath the ledge. A narrow opening remained, allowing just enough room for the two of them to squeeze inside. Syphar stumbled slightly as his hand dropped back within the folds of his cloak. Sarah caught his arm and helped him inside the icy shelter. They sat down with the mountain at their backs, catching their breath in the near darkness. What little starlight could get past the tall mountains glittered on the icy lattice. After a few minutes, Sarah broke the silence. "I've never actually met a wizard before. The things you can do... it's amazing." Syphar's smile was barely visible in the dim light. "A really powerful wizard wouldn't be this tired." "Oh, will you be all right? I can't imagine how much that takes out of you." Syphar shook his head. "I'll be fine. The power doesn't come from me, I just channel and shape it. A little sleep is all I need." Sarah's brow knitted in thought. "Where does it come from then? Your ring?" The wizard chuckled. He held his hand out in front of him, the smooth round sapphire gleaming through the gloom. "No, this is only a focus stone. It's a tool, nothing more. The energy comes from... well, it's easier o just show you." The ring began to glow softly, illuminating what looked like a spiderweb of fine strands stretching across their tiny shelter. Many of them were stretching out toward Sarah. She instinctively tried to brush them away, but felt nothing. "Ley lines," Syphar explained. "They can be found virtually everywhere, more in some places than others. Tapping them is like putting a water wheel in a river." He held out his other hand, and the shimmering strands began to bend and curve, flowing into his palm. Sarah could barely see the same rippling effect she had seen before. The ring dimmed again, plunging them into darkness once more. "That was beautiful," breathed Sarah. "A simple Master's trick. It's used to illustrate the concept to apprentices who haven't learned to see ley lines themselves yet." "You're a Master, then?" "No, I'm only a Journeyman." Sarah could hear the sadness in his voice, though she could tell he was trying to hide it. She laid her hand on his arm. "Syphar, I'm sorry I got you into this. I know your career must have meant a lot to you." Syphar shook his head. "I never had much desire to be a Master. I was hoping to find a job as a ship's mage, though, and a Stormwatch Master can pretty much name his own price." He sighed. "They tell you to forget about your past, about your family, but I don't see how people do it. My parents have a farm in Dunbridge, with nothing to look forward to but hard work and hard times. I had hoped to send some money back to them so they could have some comfort. I know they didn't raise me hoping that I would be stolen away by the Cabal." "I'm sure they would be proud of you." Sarah squeezed his arm. "You're a good man, and I'm glad to have you with me." Syphar said nothing for several heartbeats. "We should get some rest," he said, finally breaking the silence. "We've still got a long way to go." They got as comfortable as they could on the hard ground, and soon they were asleep.
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Chapter 7 added Sep 23, 2005
The sun shone brightly on the snowy ground the next morning, forcing the two travelers to keep their hoods pulled down low over their eyes. They kept a steady pace throughout the morning. As the sun reached its apex, they stopped briefly to share a quick lunch. "So how much further is it to the border?" asked Sarah. Syphar glanced at Sarah, then down at the half eaten biscuit in his hand. "It may be a while yet." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "Ahandria is that way," he said, pointing back up the way they had come. "What?" shouted Sarah. "What in blazes are we doing going this way then?" "There's only two ways out of Skytooth, and the other road leads to Ironhold," said Syphar sheepishly. "I didn't want to discourage you by saying anything last night." Sarah looked despairingly back up the mountain. She turned back to the wizard and sighed. "Well, where are we going, then?" "I've only studied this area a few times; I was never allowed to leave Skytooth when I was there in the past. We should come down in a town called Silverwell. From there we should be able to head east and go back over the mountains through Elizar's Gap." "Wonderful," grumbled Sarah. "All right, let's get going then." Sarah picked up the pace as they continued their descent, and soon Syphar found himself following her instead of the other way around. The going got easier as they descended the mountain. The snow was reduced to patches on the sides of the road, where the sun was blocked by the mountains themselves for much of the day. As evening descended once more, they could see a wall up ahead. It stretched from one mountain to the other, with a closed gate in its center. "Can you do that trick again?" asked Sarah. Syphar shook his head. "It won't do us any good, unless you can get that gate open. We'll just have to try to talk our way through." They approached the gate, trying to act as though they were supposed to be there. As they got closer they could see men with crossbows walking back and forth across the top of the wall. One of the guards stepped out and held up his hand. "Stop and identify yourselves." Syphar drew back his hood, and Sarah followed suit. The cold air was a shock after so long within the warm embrace of her enchanted cloak. "I'm Master Lagorse from Stormwatch," said Syphar. He gestured toward Sarah. "This is my apprentice." "Can I see your papers, please?" "Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any, this was a last minute trip and I didn't have time to file any. You know how it is." "Hrm." Apparently, the guard did not know how it was. "I don't have the authority to let you by without paperwork. You'll have to get permission from Master Eldridge." "Certainly," said Syphar. Sarah doubted he felt as confident as he sounded. There was nothing they could do but allow themselves to be led through the gate. Half a dozen men fell into step around them, hands resting on their sword hilts. From what they could see, the buildings of Silverwell seemed to be built almost entirely of stone; not surprising, considering how the town was nestled between the slopes of the Red Peaks. They were conducted quickly past a few curious townsfolk. The streets seemed strangely empty considering the apparent size of the town. They finally came to a grim fortress whose gray facade bore the marks of centuries of wind and weather, if not battle. The interior was less austere, but it was still sparsely appointed. Word of their coming seemed to have preceded them. A guard opened one of a set of double doors as they approached, revealing a small audience chamber beyond. The leader of their entourage stepped inside the room. "Master Lagorse and his apprentice, Master Eldridge." Master Eldridge stood in the middle of the chamber, hands clasped behind his back. He was not an exceptionally tall man, but the fur-trimmed gown he wore over his doublet and jerkin accentuated his broad shoulders and chest. His lined face and steel gray hair bespoke advancing age, but there was no sign of weakness in his stance. The man nodded to the guard and waved his hand. "Thank you, Captain. Return to your post." The guard bowed and withdrew along with the rest of his men, closing the door behind him. Eldridge shifted his weight onto one foot, placing his hands on his hips. "Master Lagorse," he said, narrowing his green eyes, "you look... younger than the last time I saw you." Sarah's heart sank. Whether Eldridge was bluffing or not, she could tell he had caught Syphar off guard. Before the wizard could formulate a response, Eldridge crossed his arms over his chest. "You may be a wizard, but you're no Master. You haven't got enough attitude." He nodded toward Sarah. "And she doesn't look at you like an apprentice." Sarah could feel her cheeks warming as she stepped forward. "Please, my lord, he's only trying to help me!" A look of distaste crossed Eldridge's face. "I'm no lord, missy. Just a man like any other." He looked both of them over. "I'd wager you're on the run from someone. Jealous husband, maybe?" Sarah hesitated for a moment, but she knew they were caught no matter what she said. She could only hope that she could win Eldridge's sympathy. "No, m-- Master Eldridge," she said. "I only wish it were so simple. Has word reached you yet of the king's death?" Eldridge raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said slowly, "though it's not yet common knowledge. How do you know of this?" "I was there. I saw it happen. Count Arden and Monsignor Ignatius conspired to kill him and blame it on heretics. They've been hunting me ever since." Eldridge stared at her a moment longer, then nodded. "Much as it pains me to hear it, I believe you. The situation seemed too convenient for that snake Arden." Sarah let out a sigh of relief. "Will you help us, then?" "There's little I can do," he said. "I meant it when I said I'm not a lord; I'm just a retired fencing master who was given an extravagant gift." He spread his arms to indicate their surroundings. "When the silver mines ran out, this place was all but abandoned. It was given to me as a sort of retirement home. I don't even really have any power here outside the fencing school. I have the respect of the townsfolk and my students, but I haven't got anywhere near the clout to oppose someone like Arden." He shook his head. "Even when I was interested in politics, I was more a man of action than words." He smiled. "What little I can do for you, however, I shall."
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Chapter 8 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah had never had any call to ride a horse in the past, but she was certainly willing to learn. Master Eldridge had gifted them with a pair of geldings, one chestnut and the other black. The stable hands had them saddled and ready in almost no time at all. Eldridge explained that they were students in his fencing school; they were expected to be well versed in a number of skills in addition to swordplay. "I can't thank you enough for your generosity," said Sarah. "I can't do anything to keep that bastard from taking the crown, but I'm happy to give him another reason to sweat." He turned as the stable door opened again. A dark haired woman entered, shutting the door behind her against the cold. The newcomer glanced at the strangers briefly, then turned to Master Eldridge. "You sent for me, Master?" She was half a head taller than Sarah and darker of skin, with deep brown eyes. She reminded Sarah a little of Lucinda, except that Lucinda had never been much for physical labor, while this woman had well toned muscle in addition to her curvy figure. She was dressed in doublet and breeches, with a sword hanging comfortably at her left hip. In her hand she held another sword, complete with belt and scabbard. "Ah, yes," said Eldridge. "Sarah, Syphar, this is Molly Tanner. She's one of my best students." "'One of'?" asked Molly, with a raised eyebrow. "As you can see, she doesn't lack for confidence." His face became more serious. "Molly, these fine people could use a guide who knows the way to Coppergate and through Elizar's Gap. They also might have need of someone who knows how to use a sword. It's a dangerous job, but I think you're up to it. I know you've been looking for a way to put your skills to use for a while." Molly smiled. "It would be my pleasure." Sarah approached Molly, her brow knitting with concern. "I want you to understand what you're getting yourself into. The King of Jal Kufri wants me dead, and I doubt he will spare anyone who helps me." The swordswoman glanced at Eldridge, who nodded. "A challenge, then. I like it." She held out the sword in her hand, looking back and forth between Sarah and Syphar. "And this is for...?" Syphar held his hands up, palms a few inches apart. Energy crackled between his hands like miniature lightning. "Ah, I see." Molly handed the sword to Sarah. Sarah buckled the belt around her waist, tightening it nearly to its smallest notch. The weight at her hip was uncomfortable, but she assumed she would grow used to it. She drew the blade free of its scabbard. The narrow, tapering blade had a single edge for most of its length, with a double edge near the needle-sharp tip. A simple hilt guarded her hand, sweeping over her knuckles to meet a heavy round pommel. The grip was wrapped with leather and metal wire and felt a little slick to Sarah's hand. She glanced at Molly's weapon; she could see where hours of practice had molded it to her hand. She slid the rapier back in its scabbard. "Thank you, Molly, Master Eldridge. I wish I had some way to repay you." Eldridge clapped her on the shoulder with a calloused hand. "Keep yourself alive." Molly found her own horse, which was already saddled and ready for her. As the four of them went out into the courtyard, a young boy came running up to Master Eldridge. "Men," he panted, "at the gate. From Skytooth. Looking for someone. Captain said to tell you." Eldridge frowned, scratching his beard. "That's not good." He turned to Molly, speaking quickly. "Take them out the East Gate and ride hard for Coppergate. I'll stall them as long as I can, and try to put them on the wrong road. I don't know how much time I can buy you, so make the best of it." Molly nodded and swung herself up into the saddle. She watched as the others mounted more slowly. "Do you ride?" she asked. "A little," said Syphar. Sarah simply shook her head. "All right," muttered Molly. "Just try to hold on as best you can. Raven and Brand are quick; not as quick as Lightning here, but they should be able to keep up." She patted the neck of her dun mare affectionately. Taking the reins in one hand, she turned her horse toward a gate at the far end of the courtyard and started toward it at a trot. Syphar followed behind on Raven. Sarah wasn't sure what to do, but, given commands to the contrary, Brand joined in at the end of their little parade. Once outside the courtyard, they meandered through the streets of Silverwell. Sarah paid little attention to the buildings they were passing by; she was too occupied trying to adjust to the unfamiliar rhythm of the mount beneath her. Leading a cart mule was about as unlike actually riding a horse as her old life was the new. They passed the East Gate without challenge, and soon found themselves on a narrow road winding around the feet of the mountains. The trot that Sarah was just becoming accustomed to began to accelerate, and before she knew it they were galloping through the night like leaves cast upon a rushing river. Taking Molly's advice to heart, Sarah leaned close to Brand's neck, grabbing handfuls of mane in addition to the reins. Her legs and backside were growing numb from the unaccustomed abuse, having quickly gone past soreness and pain. She kept her eyes open to mere slits, watching the road flash by beneath her. At some point Syphar had been able to summon a flock of tiny lights that swirled around them, providing barely enough illumination for the horses to see their way in the darkness. Sarah's world shrank to little more than the wind rushing past her and her hands holding on for dear life. When they finally stopped, the sun's rays could be seen reaching out from behind the mountain tops. Sarah practically fell from the saddle as Molly and Syphar came to help her down. They laid her down on something soft, and she knew no more.
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Chapter 9 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah opened her eyes as she felt a hand shaking her. Molly was silhouetted against the midday sun. "Come on, we need to get moving." She helped Sarah up into the saddle again. The stiffness in her legs made Sarah groan. "Don't worry," said Molly, "We should be in Coppergate in a couple of hours." There was no sign of pursuit, so the three travelers kept a slightly less grueling pace as they rode into Coppergate. The town was much like Silverwell in its construction, a collection of stone buildings nestled against the bulk of the mountains. They could see smoke streaming up from a number of chimneys throughout the town, far more than they had seen in Silverwell. "Coppergate is a mining town, like Silverwell once was," explained Molly. "They live or die by that single industry. The mine bosses are the unquestioned authority, though they do have a nominal mayor. It's a terrible place to live, but there's virtually no way to leave. The bosses don't pay anyone enough that they can afford to go anywhere else." "How long has it been since you were last here?" asked Sarah. "Five years." "That's a long time. Maybe it's changed since then." "Bah." Molly spat on the gravel road. "Nothing ever changes here. Nothing." Sarah gave Syphar a questioning look, but the wizard only shrugged. They continued in silence toward the town. The sun shone red from a pair of massive copper doors set into the granite town wall. Each door was over fifteen feet tall by Sarah's estimation, and nearly six feet wide. Rearing horses were embossed the gleaming doors, their hooves hovering over the road between. "Amazing," breathed Sarah. "They're just wood," muttered Molly. She shook her head. "Don't mind me. I just don't have a lot of good memories from this place. We should be able to pick up some extra supplies at the trading post and get on our way into the Gap before dark." They passed through the gate and into the town. There was little joy in Coppergate, if the people they saw in the street were any indication. The drably clad men and women walked slowly, eyes downcast. A few small children stared up at the riders as they passed, but the adults seemed to hardly even notice them. Sarah leaned over toward Syphar. "I think I can see why she's not thrilled about coming home again." The trading post was a large building near the center of town. It was in better repair than many of the small houses around it, with a fresh coat of paint on its plastered exterior. The three travelers dismounted, discussing among themselves what they would need for the journey through the mountains. "If nothing else, we'll need a lot of rope," said Molly as she fished a pouch of coins out of her saddle bag. "We may need to tie ourselves together during some of the steeper parts." "I thought the point of a mountain pass was to make it easier to get across the mountains," said Sarah. Molly smiled. "This is the easier way. If we were going the hard way we'd need the rope just to get up the mountain." She stopped at the door as she found a man standing in her way. "Excuse me." The man folded his arms across his chest. He wore a blue velvet doublet and breeches, though the fine clothes looked somehow out of place on him. A heavy broadsword hung from his belt. "I don't think these people have paid their taxes yet." Sarah noticed several other men nearby moving in their direction, similarly well dressed and armed. She glanced at Syphar, but his reaction was unreadable. "We're just passing through," said Molly coolly. "I don't want any trouble." "It's a passing through tax," said one of the other men. "Why don't we just pay them?" whispered Sarah. Molly kept her eyes on the man blocking her path. "I'm not giving a penny to these cretins or their bloated pustule of a boss." Sarah could see Syphar's fingers flexing, and the stone in his ring began to glow dimly. Before she could ask him what he was doing, she heard the sound of swords being drawn. Molly still hadn't moved. The man in the doorway held the point of his sword over Molly's chest. "You've got a dangerous mouth on you, little l-- ah!" Faster than Sarah could follow, Molly had drawn her rapier and slashed across the thug's knuckles. Her blade whipped around behind her head to parry another sword coming at her from behind before the first man's sword hit the ground. The other two swordsmen, who had been advancing on Sarah and Syphar, turned their attention toward Molly instead. She turned around, hooking one foot under the broadsword lying at her feet. As she parried another blow from the man who had come up behind her, she tossed the broadsword up into the air with her foot, catching it in her left hand. As the three men hacked and cut at Molly, Sarah began to feel frightened. She wasn't worried about Molly's safety; she seemed to be blocking every blade with hardly a thought. What chilled Sarah was the look in Molly's eyes. There was more than disdain there; there was hatred. It seemed like the men she was fighting could see it too. Sarah was no expert with a sword,but it seemed as though the attackers had become defenders fighting for their lives. "Molly," said Sarah, "we don't have time for this." Molly blinked. The mask of churning emotions fell away from her face. She slowed her flurry of steel, allowing her opponents an opportunity to withdraw. They backed away a few steps, then turned and ran. Molly tossed the broadsword on the ground, sheathing her own blade. She watched the men for a moment as they fled, then shook her head. "They'll regain their courage soon enough, and be back with friends." Syphar headed toward the shop, taking the coin purse from Molly as he passed. "I'll get what we need. Make sure the horses are ready to go."
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Epilogue added Sep 23, 2005
It took some time to get the Just Reward in good enough shape to return to the mainland, but return it did. Though she had struck a devastating blow to King Alfred's plans, he remained on the throne. Blocked from any easy sources of income to fund his reign, Alfred was forced to make concessions to a number of factions in the kingdom. He had a skilled political mind, and managed to recover eventually from his initial setbacks. In time, he made other attempts to abuse the power of the throne, but Sarah kept close tabs on the goings on at court and did her best to counter his ploys and those of his cronies. Sometimes she acted directly, but more often than not she put her sizable fortune to work funding subtler opposition around the kingdom. Forced to keep his dealings clean and legitimate, Alfred became known as a good and just king, despite his own schemes. Sarah and Randall married, and had four children: Rufus, who joined the "family business" and became a daring pirate; Ursula, the rebellious one who became an honest merchant captain; Theodore, who took over the land-bound side of the family's operations due to a complete lack of sea legs; and Rachel, a free spirit who chose a life of random adventure over a career of any sort. Molly and Carathix stayed on with Sarah, though Carathix established a tower at Blood Tide Cove where he continued his arcane studies. Lars returned to the Wolf Pack, despite having enough money to easily retire. Alliardo eventually did retire, settling far inland in Averdane, where the reputations of old pirates made no difference to anyone. Alec succeeded Alliardo as Sarah's second in command. King Alfred had a son and two daughters during his almost thirty year reign. Shortly after his death, Sarah retired from her life of piracy and published an autobiography based on the detailed journals she had kept during her infamous career. Though it was banned by both the Crown and the Church, copies of the book continued to find their way to readers throughout Jal Kufri and Ahandria.
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