In Every Shadow
August 19th 2007 14:16
Well, for anyone that is interested this is the prologue of a fantasy novel that I have been working on for some time now. Just trying it out, testing the waters, see how people like it. Tell your friends or people that like the Genre. Enjoy.
Graud extended his arms slowly, his form taking on the postures and positions of the crane and snake as his mind came to relax within movements. He was not tall nor short for a human, yet his shoulders were broad and his body lean and well muscled. His hair was white, despite his youthful features. The colour of his hair was called a winter mark by his people. The winter mark was worn by those who had to leave their nation, to learn and travel among humans. It was a mark of loneliness, of solitude. His eyes glowed burnished gold. It was because of these things many men and women would fear him. For they marked him. As a werewolf. His tunic was cut short, baring his shoulders and a blue tattoo was clearly exposed on his bicep. Here in the grove of oak trees and among the buzzing of life was his chosen place for the forms. The birds would sing and fly through the trees, as the sun would travel above him. Yet he was oblivious to time as he continued to practice. The forms were ancient, even for one aged as he. He who had seen more than five hundred years of life. The snake and crane turned slowly into the monkey as his movements changed from serene into movements such as one would make when drunk and yet to them there was still a graceful and lethal air. He had been young then, he remembered, only a hundred or so, if he recalled correctly, which was almost middle aged by the standards of his race. A slightly off-key note of a birdsong warned him before anything else. His ears pricked and yet his movements did not stop. An intruder so subtle could intend violence against him, and yet there were many that feared the warnings that the town people had spread about this place. For one to journey here meant that they were potentially an enemy of great power. Or a friend, but Graud chose to prepare himself for the worst. The technique of monkey steals the peaches flowed smoothly into the roar of the dragon as he summoned up his reserves of inner power, preparing to deal with the intruder. A small triangular dagger with each side measuring four inches across flew out of the undergrowth and embedded itself into a tree, neatly flying through the space that had been occupied by Graud mere moments earlier. Graud turned quickly, a light throwing knife in his right hand and then relaxed
"Either you're getting slower and louder Dakawun Kai, or I am getting better."
"Or maybe you've finally learned awareness Graud Silvertail." Out of the undergrowth stepped a small bent old man who stood up only to Graud's shoulders. His grubby tunic and pants were worn, stained and patched, and his circular straw woven hat weathered yet he walked with an air of powerful confidence. His ancient eyes were filled with a calculating intelligence and a form of appraisal, as if at all times he was deciding whether before him stood a friend or an enemy. His short cropped hair, beard and ragged appearance made him look like a beggar. Graud knew this to be one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Dakawun appraised Graud in return. The years that he had not seen the werewolf had certainly improved him. There was a slight sense of peace to him now. But also a sense of power that was now even greater than he had previously known. He knew that underneath the peace lay the assassin he had once known. Graud sighed. He, Dakawun and a few others had quested years ago to the fountain of youth to claim everlasting life and had found that the fountain gave more than a long life. It had changed their physical properties to a state of youth, at their prime, yet had left their appearances unchanged. Dakawun now had the physical abilities of a human in their prime coupled with his considerable magical talents, which made him a powerful man indeed. Graud broke the silence
“You were never one to visit without reason Dakawun, and I doubt any reason would be to do with simply wishing for my company. You have a task for me and little reason to ensure that I complete it.” Dakawun smiled to himself.
“You and yours have always understood more of the nature of the un-named one Graud. And even more, the nature of those that would seek his release.
"So how fares everyone else?" Dakawun shrugged
"I saw Haakon and Yui a few years ago, they are doing well." Graud nodded as he remembered the two sturdy humans that had accompanied them on the quest. Haakon had been a mercenary like himself, but was from further north, where men wore the pelts of fierce animals and carried huge axes. Graud had liked the man, and remembered him for his hard ways but his soft heart, at least where Yui had been concerned. Yui was from the far east, in fact she had been the one that had introduced him to the arts he was studying now. She, like him was not human, instead being one of the Nekekame, a spirit cat, resembling both human and tiger like attributes. Graud remembered also that she was an adept at poisoning and stealth and that her first impression of the large Haakon had been one of amusement.
"Anyone else?" Dakawun nodded
"I saw Filgum." Graud nodded to the memory of the dwarf came back. Filgum had been one of the single most offensive beings he knew. The dwarf had been down on his luck when approached the first time by Dakawun and had at first used words with the wizard that made even Graud's eyes pop. He had soon relented after hearing that living forever would mean that he would be able to gather wealth at a scale such as no dwarf had been able to before.
“And of the rest of the world? This is a small village outside of most trade routes Dakawun. News takes more than a long time to arrive here. Quite often it doesn’t.”
“Donoria continues to stir a pot of alliances between the nobles at all times. Their wars are nothing new. However it appears as if the Duke de Bergen is still able to get the best of them all. The King’s hound is still a far more dangerous man than his enemies consider.”
“If I recall correctly those men known as the King’s Hound always seemed to be both the greatest protectors and most dangerous threats against the throne.” Dakawun chuckled
“They are indeed dangerous men, and this one is particularly so. The de Bergen family has traditionally always held sway over the other southern families and should they wish could foster a powerful rebellion. But they are also without fail the first family to muster support for the throne, holding with their reputation for loyalty.”
“You fear for the King?”
“The King’s safety is not a thing I take lightly Graud. His is a life always under threat. It is true that his new taxes have not been the most popular event of his reign but they are no great thing by themselves.” Graud kept silent. Dakawun feared something, though he had little idea of what would push the mage so far as to seek him out.
"I am guessing there is actually a point behind your visit? As much as I enjoy your company you are no one to make social calls." Dakawun smiled faintly and nodded.
"I need your help Graud. You and the other companions." Graud raised an eyebrow questioningly. Dakawun was one that only rarely admitted his weaknesses. The companions had mostly gone their separate ways after gaining eternal youth, with each of them having their own business to attend to. Graud knew that after having those adventures that he needed his own space and even after promising himself to see his friends again, had found it difficult to find not only the time but a reason to search them out. In the beginning there had been fifty of the companions in total, but the numbers had been whittled down after many challenges had been faced down and enemies killed. Graud shrugged.
"I did hear that someone matching Kal's description was in town a few days ago, and that means that Amarellda would be with him. Trying to catch those two apart is practically impossible. I would have ventured down but the news was already days old and I have few wishes to leave the peace of this grove." Dakawun nodded. The disreputable looking warrior had been smitten ever since meeting Amarellda, and the lithe young sorceress had been taken with Kal's easy way, ready laugh and roguish good looks.
"How about Vasart? I hear very little of church politics this far north of the capital." Dakawun laughed
"Ah yes, now Father Vasart, rather than brother. He is very well. Unlike the rest of us, he told everyone that he had undertaken the quest and would not die of age. As I understand the church was prepared to brand him a heretic they had him interrogated and got him to tell them all about the fountain, the guardian and the fact that the well dried up after we had all drank from it. They kept him alive and well because he still had quite a following amongst the younger members of the church and the orders militant were prepared to fight and die at his command." Graud nodded as he recalled Vasart. The young man had been a high ranking brother officer in the militant order of the One. Traditionally the Fiery Hearts were supposed to gain the favour of their superiors before embarking on any such journeys but Vasart had claimed that he had received a vision from the One, urging him to join them. Graud had been sceptical at first but after the young fighter priest had shown his gifting in prophesying the future and his skills with a blade, Graud had come to believe in the One and in Vasart's claim of it's power.
"So why are the companions being brought together again?" Dakawun grimaced and leaned heavily on his staff,
"Because of my foolishness. There are things changing and shifting Graud, far beyond even my own powers to affect. You are aware, your people, of the Nameless One?" Graud's eyes narrowed as he spoke
"Of course we Dakawun, you know this already. Why?" To the werewolves there were many tales told of that being. The soul-thief and the father of lies were but two names for him. Graud’s people had legends about how they had broken free of their bondage to the Nameless One. Dakawun sighed as he continued
"He is not as powerless as we would like to believe. Even your people, who have broken free from his grip once, are still at risk from his attacks. You know this yes?" Graud leaned back against a tree and nodded.
“The world is becoming a far worse place for all of us Graud. Donoria is straining against herself, perhaps towards civil war. Many will die Graud. Many pointless deaths.”
"There is little for my people to be concerned then is there? Humans have not treated my kind well in the past Dakawun. Why would you tell me this?" Dakawun now sat cross-legged on the grass.
“There is more to the story that simply the fall of a kingdom Graud. Much more than this. I sense more to come. Do you recall the Hellasan invasion of Donoria?”
“Yes. It happened almost two hundred and fifty years ago correct? You did not summon me then. I was grateful for it. I had my own concerns to attend to.”
“I knew that Graud. Just as I knew I would find you here. I knew that threat was coming Graud, I had seen it long before it was brought against me. There is a new threat now, and I do not know where it is coming from, but I know that it will shatter Donoria beyond repair.”
“There is something you are keeping from me Dakawun. The potential destruction of Donoria would not inspire you to gather together all the companions. None of us, save perhaps Kal have any ties to Donoria that would inspire us to risk our lives for her.”
"There are several things that I am keeping from you Graud, but it would not profit you to know them. You will have to trust me until we have gathered the rest of he companions together." Graud shook his head
"I remember the last time you told us false, Dakawun, 'for our own good' you said. This time you shall tell me everything or you may leave." Dakawun sighed.
"Very well. The threat of which I speak is like nothing I have ever felt before. With the Hellasan invasion, I could at least pit myself against it, knowing my foes. This time they keep to the shadows. Would that these shadow agents were all that I have to fear. There is something foreign to what I sense Graud. Something I have never felt before.” Dakawun paused and then shook his head
“You seem to have grown in strength since last we met.”
Graud nodded and made a note of Dakawun’s change in the conversation.
"I noticed that I could almost as soon as I had come here to practice the forms of Kwan Qi. It has enhanced my abilities at spirit binding" Dakawun nodded. Spirit binding, as it was known was an art among werewolf druidhs, in which they bound their spirit to their bodies or weapons to their wielders, strengthening them almost beyond possibility. A spirit bound werewolf could use such power to recover from fatigue, sicknesses, wounds and would also allow a werewolf to enhance their already acute senses.
"I have been studying the effects of the fountain. It appears its effects are similar in some ways and very different in others. In my case, my powers have become much more powerful and refined. I can now do things that before I would have only dreamed at. But still not even I have the power to stop them by myself." Graud nodded and sat on the fallen tree.
"I will help you." He sighed
"I had hoped to spend many more days yet in here, in peace. I have tried to become something better than what I was when you knew me. I had thought that my part in this world was finished. I feel I am almost prepared to return."
"I know of your desire Graud. But unfortunately we can no longer afford to pass away our time like that. What we wish for is not often what we receive, as you well know." Graud nodded as well and then replied.
"In that case you had better tell me more of what is going on Dakawun. I would not wish to walk into this fight unprepared."
"They are intelligent, I know that much. They are recruiting from the peasantry and nobility, and for a start they actually recognise talent, not birthright. It makes them dangerous. They are powerful, and influential in many circles that I cannot move in. Even my position with the King of Donoria is not enough to deter many from joining their ranks. They also have a network which in many cases rivals my own." Dakawun shrugged.
"Other than that I don't know much. All I know is that I have taken too long already. I have been far too late in seeing that I am unable to halt their tide alone. I need you and the others to start fighting them now. Your people have always known the danger of allowing the nameless one access to this world." Graud nodded
"I have spent too long here already. The burdens of my people are the burdens of all people." Graud stood and walked towards his cabin.
"Come, I shall gather my things, and we shall leave." Dakawun nodded. Just like Graud, thought Dakawun as he gazed on the few possessions within the cabin. A small trunk for clothes, a table and chair, a pallet to sleep on and a small place for a fire. There was also an oaken chest in the corner, adorned with werewolf runes and symbols. Graud quickly shed the practise clothes and garbed himself in black woollen robes from the small trunk that were reminiscent of those he had worn when learning Kwan Chi. Retrieving a small leather bag from behind the door, he also packed in his few other changes of clothes. He clipped a leather belt around his waist and hung his long hunting knives from it as well as a small scabbard at the neck to hold another blade, and putting a small throwing knife in the top of each of his boots. He also took two small curiously fashioned leather holsters and fastened one to each of his forearms. Each carried another lightly weighted throwing knife as well as a small length of wire that could be tied end to end to form a two foot long garrotte. Draping a hooded cloak over his shoulders he pulled the hood up over his head and clasped it at the neck with an ordinary looking pin. The robes themselves were quite light, as was the hood. As part of his training in Kwan Chi he could now ignore feelings of heat, cold and even pain, almost to where he was completely unaware of them. He reached over and picked up a small money pouch and slipped it into a pocket within his cloak. He paused, looking at the oaken chest and then opened it. Dakawun watched as Graud also packed his old traditional werewolf clothing. The kilt and the tartan were both packed. He picked up and old tooled leather baldric from out of the chest and quickly tightened it around his chest. Hanging in the sheath that ran downwards from his left shoulder was a leaf shaped werewolf blade. The blade was two and a half feet long and was designed for long cutting sweeps. Graud had owned the blade for many hundreds of years after having commissioned a dwarf weaponsmith to forge such a weapon.
"I am ready." Dakawun nodded. The two left, Graud looking behind him sadly at the place he had named home for the past decades and walked into town. The small township of Frell was close to the mountains and on the edge of primeval woodlands. The air was brisk and sharp scented with an aspen edge to it. Winter came quite early here, though it was only autumn.
"It would be best if you did the talking Dakawun, the villagers are uneasy around my people, and around me, despite my living here for almost a hundred years or so." Dakawun nodded. Werewolves were regarded by most people to be demons who would kill any human they encountered and any werewolf entering a human settlement unescorted by a human would most probably be run from the town. For Graud to have lived here this long was a rarity. Part of this intolerance was the fault of the intractable nature of werewolves themselves towards humans. Werewolves would allow none outside of their people to learn their language, though many of the more southern clans were taught both the language of Graustein and sometimes even basic Donorian. Dakawun walked into the village tavern and lodging house while Graud stood outside by the door. It was only slightly past mid day so the tavern was almost empty, save for a few labourers enjoying a late lunch. The smell of old ale and smoke assailed Dakawun's senses and his eyes flickered around the room as he approached the bartender.
"Excuse me friend, but I am looking for someone, perhaps you can help me." The bartender looked down on the small mage as he spoke.
"He was not very tall or short, somewhere in between, but he is most evidently a warrior. He had a face you would remember though, it was scarred with a broken nose. And he has only one eye. He would have been with a traveling woman." The bartender nodded and continued to polish one of the heavy clay pintmugs.
"And if I had?" Dakawun smiled easily, his hand reaching suggestively for his money pouch
"Then you would tell us and we would be on our way, after having given you something for your trouble." the bartender nodded.
"Your friend was through here three days ago, he had a woman with him, she looked like on of those Travelling People, just like you said." Dakawun nodded
"That sounds exactly like him." he said, putting two silver coins on the bar.
"Now, do you happen to know how and which gate he left from?" The bartender shrugged and examined the mug.
"I think they left with a slate merchants wagon. I think I overheard him saying something like playing mercenary to a rock seller. The merchant if I recall was heading towards the west and then south. He was a stingy bastard too." Dakawun smiled and clapped down four more silver coins
"Thank you friend, you may have just halved the time of my journey." Dakawun continued to smile as he left. Graud broke straight into step with Dakawun as he left the tavern
"They have three days on us, perhaps four. They left with a slate merchant through the west gate." Graud nodded as the two made their way to a nearby stable.
"We should be able to catch them with some good horses underneath us, caravans don't travel too fast, especially when they're carrying slate." Dakawun grimaced. While it was true that he had endured many hours on horseback he still held a measure of distaste for the creatures.
They found the stables on the eastern side of town. Dakawun’s eyes quickly flitted from side to side. No-one was watching. The stable master would more than likely not wish to trade with a beggar. Dakawun muttered a few words under his breath. Graud looked on with a small amount of fascination as Dakawun’s garments shifted and changed in the light, their ragged appearance suddenly changing, giving him the appearance of a reasonably wealthy merchant. Dakawun saw the look of slight amusement on Graud’s face
“It aids sometimes, to look the part that one wishes to play.” Graud nodded as they entered the stable. Leaning against a wall was a man in well worn clothing. The smell that lingered about him was the smell of horses and sweat that made Graud distinctly uncomfortable. The horse groom looked up at them in a bored fashion
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Dakawun nodded.
"We need four good horses. Your best." The groom suddenly looked a lot more interested in them.
"I can offer you the four best horses for three towns. If you'll walk right this way." He led them to an outside corral, where a dozen horses walked, ran or simply grazed peacefully at the grass. The man pointed
"Those steel-dust over there, they were born of two of my best ever." he turned and pointed at another horse that stood by itself. A dappled grey horse that stood apart from the rest of the herd
"That's Gray, he's a fierce, spirited horse. But he's stronger pound for pound then any I have seen in all my horsing days, I can tell you." The man shrugged
"Aside from those three, none of these horses are anything special, but if you were really wanting the best of them I would take that mare standing by the fence over there." Dakawun nodded
"How much, for saddles and bridals as well?" The man smiled and rubbed his hands together.
"For all those four horses and riding tack, it'll be ten gold antar all up." Dakawun shook his head.
"I said how much for those four horses, not the corral. Now perhaps you'll quote us a realistic price. Although I have heard that the coaches that travel westwards are quite adequate for the journey we seek to undertake and very comfortable." Dakawun smiled slyly and stroked his beard.
"For as much as a gold antar apiece I have heard. And that includes meals." The horse dealer shrugged.
"That's true, but you'd get there in a quarter of the time on a good horse. Also, the next coach leaves in a few days and if you are in any kind of hurry you won’t go by coach. But I couldn't part with them for anything less than eight gold flat." Dakawun shook his head.
"I want to buy horses, not set up an inheritance for your grand children. Six gold five silver." The man shook his head once more
"If I were to give away such horses like these to that little amount, I would impoverish my family for generations. Seven gold six silver." Dakawun shook his head and put his hands on his hips
"Seven gold flat." The man nodded and held out his hand
"Done." Dakawun nodded and shook the mans hand
"I'll need them saddled and ready in quarter of an hour." The man nodded and waved over his two fellows.
"Saddle up Gray, Trotter, Rath and Rosebay. Full tack, bridal and saddle bags. Quickly." The two men nodded and quickly rounded up the horses
"Well gentlemen, would you care to step into my office for a quick mug of tea? It is still morning and my cook brews up a good cup." Dakawun looked over at Graud who nodded.
"We would be honoured." They followed the man into his office. The office was a low beamed and comfortable room, with a small fireplace filled with glowing coals. A window in the west wall opened towards the mountains and the desk was mostly clear of paperwork. They sat down at the chairs he indicated as he fetched an earthen-ware jug from the hearth where it had been warming. He picked out three large mugs from a cupboard and filled them almost to the brim, handing one each to Dakawun and Graud and then offering them either honey or cream. Dakawun declined both but Graud added a generous helping of each.
"If I may ask, where are you two gentlemen travelling to?" Dakawun sipped lightly at the tea and raised his eyebrows in appreciation
"This is good. We are travelling westwards, a slate merchant was through here not long ago and he owes me some money. A lot more than the seven gold you saw today." The man nodded
"Old Claude, eh? He's a slippery one. He once traded me some of his wares for some horses to pull his wagons. Seemed a good deal to me, until I found that what he had traded me was the leavings from a rock quarry" the man paused to sip at his coffee
"But I squared it up with him. He replaced all the tiles on all my buildings with top quality fine carved stone, I had a stonemason friend of mine make sure of everything in case he tried it again." The sipped once more from his coffee
"But he knows that he's to be careful when dealing with us now. Small towns have a way of not trading with those that we know are cheats. We recently got ourselves a new broker in the town, one whose scales always seem a little different to our friend Claude. Funny that eh?" Graud and Dakawun nodded appreciatively, and took long pulls from their tea. Dakawun looked deeply into the horse merchant's eyes, though the rest of his body remained relaxed.
"Has anything you would call strange happened in this village in the past few days?" The man shook his head.
"Not that I can think of, no. Why? Has there been anything you’ve heard of?" Dakawun shook his head.
"Not really, just heard a rumour or two in one of the other villages. Nothing to really worry about." The man shook his head.
"That is one of the things I enjoy about living here. It is quiet and peaceful, and very little out of the ordinary ever happens." Dakawun nodded,
"That is indeed a fine thing to look for in a home." They finished their drinks in silence until one of the wranglers knocked politely at the door.
"Excuse me good sirs, but your horses are ready." Graud and Dakawun were quick to leave, Graud mounting up on Gray, while Dakawun sat himself on Rosebay, taking the reins of the other two horses and tying them to his saddle horn. The two rode quickly to the west gate and then out of town. Nida smiled as he watched the two strangers gallop quickly out of sight and turned to his workers
"Boys, I've something to see to in town. You're in charge Bill." Nida quickly walked away, heading towards the towns blacksmith. He walked into the forge and called for the blacksmith
"Gus!" The blacksmith looked up from the plough he was tending. Like all blacksmiths he was muscular from continuous hours at the forge with thick black hair covering his arms and chest wherever his leather apron did not. His head was bald, and covered in sweat from both the immense heat of the forge and from the efforts of his work.
"Nida, what is it I can do for you?" Nida leaned in close to the blacksmith and murmured.
"I await for the return." Gus looked around quickly
"And for the coming of He whose name is sacred." Nida swallowed nervously.
"I have news." Gus nodded and crossed his arms
"If it is like the news you gave last time Nida, it will not be worthy of your speaking it. Your punishment this time would be something that not even you could withstand." Nida shook his head furiously. He had given incorrect news last time and his punishment had been to work in the forge for three days, enduring the heat without respite nor any water to quench his thirst. The pain had been close to completely unbearable, though bore it he had, vowing revenge.
"An old man and a werewolf just bought horses off me. They said they were going to follow Hans the slate merchant in order to get some money that he owed them." Gus narrowed his eyes.
"That is not news Nida, there are many old men in this world, and werewolves have been known to hire on as body guards before." Nida nodded and licked his lips. The heat of the forge was bringing back the memories of how his body had burned with thirst during his punishment.
"I know that, and here is the part that you will find interesting. They didn't know the man's name for one thing. I asked them if they were after Claude rather than Hans the slate merchant and they said yes." Gus nodded.
"The other part is that the old man was short, very short. He carried a long staff, had an old hat, just like we’ve been told the accursed does." Gus smiled.
"That does indeed sound very much like the description I was given of a man to look out for. How many did he have with him?"
"Only the werewolf. But he bought four horses, each with riding tack. So I would suspect that he is meeting two other friends along the way, or else they are riding in shifts to increase their pace." Gus nodded once more.
"That would sound right from everything I have been told. This is good news Nida, Very good. Where are they now?" Nida pointed westwards
"They are headed west and then south after the slate merchant. I sent them after him so that we might be able to net all four of them at once." Gus grinned, his eyes glowing red from the forge.
"That is good. I will send a message to our agents in the next town to tell them to watch for any who matches the description of either the old man and the wolf, or any of the other Accursed." Gus walked quickly to a large barrel in the forge and washed the accumulated soot and grime from his hands as he continued to speak
"Tell me which horses you sold them and give me accurate descriptions. There is ink, pen and parchment in the cupboard by your head and mind you well that you give me no falsities. I’ll have you dead should even one error be found." Nida was quick to take down the descriptions of the animals he had sold. He smiled inwardly as he wrote. That idiot Gus has over stepped his bounds with me for the last time. I shall reap all I can from this windfall, and leave him broken and dying in a gutter.
Dakawun sat slightly stiffly in the saddle, holding the reins with one hand and stroking his chin with the other. Graud had been relatively easy to find, it had merely been the matter of casting the correct scrying spell, but trying to track down Kal and Amarellda could very likely be impossible should they not wish to be found. The scrying spell would give the target’s location at that point in time and was taxing to cast. If Kal and Amarellda were indeed traveling then by the time he made his way to where he had scryed them out, they would more than likely be gone from there, making this chase necessary. Sending out a member of his network would have been highly unadvisable, that he knew well enough. The fractured trust between he and Kal was fragile enough without wanting to make the man think he, Dakawun, thought the warrior a lackey or that he had been following his movements. On the other hand, Filgum should be close to finding Jimtrey easily once he reached Reynamoth, the city of pirates. From there, those two could quickly cross the ocean and find Haakon and Yui. He smiled to himself, Vasart would most probably prove to be the easiest to find. The pious cleric was most probably still in the order he had founded in the city of Bascilus. From there it would be a small thing to assemble the Companions once more. By his ancestors he swore that he would not allow the Retriam to undo all of his work in Donoria.
Graud frowned. He could probably track Kal and Amarellda from the next town should he need to. That would be easy enough. He shook his head and continued to ride. Something didn't feel right. Something didn't smell right. A hunter renowned among his people, he had learned long ago to trust his instincts. He looked about quickly, straining his ears for any sound that was out of the ordinary. There was nothing there but trees and birds and the odd squirrel or mouse. Wolves now avoided the road after large carriages began to travel along, trundling heavily along the dirt road. A small group of pigeons, each bearing a small piece of leather tied to their forelegs flew above them. Graud shrugged as the uneasy feeling came and went with the pigeons. He shook his head, dismissing the doubts as easily as they had come. He would enjoy spending time with Kal again. Among all the humans that he knew he preferred the company of the fighter above them all. He cast a quick sideways look at Dakawun. The mage was, as usual lost in thought and Graud knew better than to disturb him. By his very nature Graud was cautious and in the presence of the mage he was doubly so. Dakawun was not one that Graud could ever allow himself to underestimate, nor be blindly lead by. He was constantly plotting and rarely so open with his thoughts. Graud was worried but kept his face emotionless. If Dakawun was truly worried as he suspected then this would be a time of great trouble.
Upon a hill, many miles away, a figure stood, his fur sewn cloak wrapped around his shoulders, and a heavy oaken staff clutched in his heavily furred right hand. The figure faced south, his deep blue eyes watching. Times were changing, he knew. But then, they were always changing. Men did evil, men did good. But in this place, at this time, men did both and men did neither, choosing simply to do nothing, not realizing that this was as bad as evil in itself. Directly south of him were what men called the Graustein mountains. The duke there was a man of honour, as were his sons. He had overseen the family, watching them. The duke now kept the agreement of the duke long ago. For he and his people, the hatred of humans was far too easily earned and so hard to dispel. And yet, these men were good men, perhaps even great men. He knew them well enough himself, respecting the duke, Alberich von Graustein. He had known the family for many centuries, and knew them by the title he and his people had given them. An Fear idir Domhanda, the man between worlds. The staff in his hands was heavy, almost as heavy as the years he bore. The thousands of years he bore. Ancient eyes watched all before him and he sighed. Before him and his own people was a time like a woman birthing. There would be great pain, she would lose much blood. She would cry out in her pangs, and he would hear her every cry of pain, knowing that he could only try to guide her along the path, like a husband holding the hand of his wife all throughout the birth. But when the birthing was completed, they would marvel at the newborn. His hand rose into the sky, grasping. His eyes closed and he began to chant, his voice low, the words in the old language of his people. A feather, caught by the wind slid though the air, its edges ruffling and whistling, so great was its speed. The cap of the feather slashed into the palm of his hand, impaling it. He lowered his hand and pulled the feather loose with reverence, holding it with his left hand. His chanting continued and he ran the feather through the blood on his right hand. He held the feather before him and in front of his eyes the dark blood became as bright silver. He turned the feather, to see its untouched side. Just as night and day, he thought before he ran the other side through the blood that continued to run along his hand. Silver now coated both sides. His voice reached a crescendo and he hurled the feather into the air. He knew it would reach its course.
JZ
This writing is copyrighted to Joshua Zugai as his intellectual property and is his. Take it and he will hunt you down and feed you to his lawyer.
Graud extended his arms slowly, his form taking on the postures and positions of the crane and snake as his mind came to relax within movements. He was not tall nor short for a human, yet his shoulders were broad and his body lean and well muscled. His hair was white, despite his youthful features. The colour of his hair was called a winter mark by his people. The winter mark was worn by those who had to leave their nation, to learn and travel among humans. It was a mark of loneliness, of solitude. His eyes glowed burnished gold. It was because of these things many men and women would fear him. For they marked him. As a werewolf. His tunic was cut short, baring his shoulders and a blue tattoo was clearly exposed on his bicep. Here in the grove of oak trees and among the buzzing of life was his chosen place for the forms. The birds would sing and fly through the trees, as the sun would travel above him. Yet he was oblivious to time as he continued to practice. The forms were ancient, even for one aged as he. He who had seen more than five hundred years of life. The snake and crane turned slowly into the monkey as his movements changed from serene into movements such as one would make when drunk and yet to them there was still a graceful and lethal air. He had been young then, he remembered, only a hundred or so, if he recalled correctly, which was almost middle aged by the standards of his race. A slightly off-key note of a birdsong warned him before anything else. His ears pricked and yet his movements did not stop. An intruder so subtle could intend violence against him, and yet there were many that feared the warnings that the town people had spread about this place. For one to journey here meant that they were potentially an enemy of great power. Or a friend, but Graud chose to prepare himself for the worst. The technique of monkey steals the peaches flowed smoothly into the roar of the dragon as he summoned up his reserves of inner power, preparing to deal with the intruder. A small triangular dagger with each side measuring four inches across flew out of the undergrowth and embedded itself into a tree, neatly flying through the space that had been occupied by Graud mere moments earlier. Graud turned quickly, a light throwing knife in his right hand and then relaxed
"Or maybe you've finally learned awareness Graud Silvertail." Out of the undergrowth stepped a small bent old man who stood up only to Graud's shoulders. His grubby tunic and pants were worn, stained and patched, and his circular straw woven hat weathered yet he walked with an air of powerful confidence. His ancient eyes were filled with a calculating intelligence and a form of appraisal, as if at all times he was deciding whether before him stood a friend or an enemy. His short cropped hair, beard and ragged appearance made him look like a beggar. Graud knew this to be one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Dakawun appraised Graud in return. The years that he had not seen the werewolf had certainly improved him. There was a slight sense of peace to him now. But also a sense of power that was now even greater than he had previously known. He knew that underneath the peace lay the assassin he had once known. Graud sighed. He, Dakawun and a few others had quested years ago to the fountain of youth to claim everlasting life and had found that the fountain gave more than a long life. It had changed their physical properties to a state of youth, at their prime, yet had left their appearances unchanged. Dakawun now had the physical abilities of a human in their prime coupled with his considerable magical talents, which made him a powerful man indeed. Graud broke the silence
“You were never one to visit without reason Dakawun, and I doubt any reason would be to do with simply wishing for my company. You have a task for me and little reason to ensure that I complete it.” Dakawun smiled to himself.
“You and yours have always understood more of the nature of the un-named one Graud. And even more, the nature of those that would seek his release.
"So how fares everyone else?" Dakawun shrugged
"I saw Haakon and Yui a few years ago, they are doing well." Graud nodded as he remembered the two sturdy humans that had accompanied them on the quest. Haakon had been a mercenary like himself, but was from further north, where men wore the pelts of fierce animals and carried huge axes. Graud had liked the man, and remembered him for his hard ways but his soft heart, at least where Yui had been concerned. Yui was from the far east, in fact she had been the one that had introduced him to the arts he was studying now. She, like him was not human, instead being one of the Nekekame, a spirit cat, resembling both human and tiger like attributes. Graud remembered also that she was an adept at poisoning and stealth and that her first impression of the large Haakon had been one of amusement.
"Anyone else?" Dakawun nodded
"I saw Filgum." Graud nodded to the memory of the dwarf came back. Filgum had been one of the single most offensive beings he knew. The dwarf had been down on his luck when approached the first time by Dakawun and had at first used words with the wizard that made even Graud's eyes pop. He had soon relented after hearing that living forever would mean that he would be able to gather wealth at a scale such as no dwarf had been able to before.
“And of the rest of the world? This is a small village outside of most trade routes Dakawun. News takes more than a long time to arrive here. Quite often it doesn’t.”
“Donoria continues to stir a pot of alliances between the nobles at all times. Their wars are nothing new. However it appears as if the Duke de Bergen is still able to get the best of them all. The King’s hound is still a far more dangerous man than his enemies consider.”
“If I recall correctly those men known as the King’s Hound always seemed to be both the greatest protectors and most dangerous threats against the throne.” Dakawun chuckled
“They are indeed dangerous men, and this one is particularly so. The de Bergen family has traditionally always held sway over the other southern families and should they wish could foster a powerful rebellion. But they are also without fail the first family to muster support for the throne, holding with their reputation for loyalty.”
“You fear for the King?”
“The King’s safety is not a thing I take lightly Graud. His is a life always under threat. It is true that his new taxes have not been the most popular event of his reign but they are no great thing by themselves.” Graud kept silent. Dakawun feared something, though he had little idea of what would push the mage so far as to seek him out.
"I am guessing there is actually a point behind your visit? As much as I enjoy your company you are no one to make social calls." Dakawun smiled faintly and nodded.
"I need your help Graud. You and the other companions." Graud raised an eyebrow questioningly. Dakawun was one that only rarely admitted his weaknesses. The companions had mostly gone their separate ways after gaining eternal youth, with each of them having their own business to attend to. Graud knew that after having those adventures that he needed his own space and even after promising himself to see his friends again, had found it difficult to find not only the time but a reason to search them out. In the beginning there had been fifty of the companions in total, but the numbers had been whittled down after many challenges had been faced down and enemies killed. Graud shrugged.
"I did hear that someone matching Kal's description was in town a few days ago, and that means that Amarellda would be with him. Trying to catch those two apart is practically impossible. I would have ventured down but the news was already days old and I have few wishes to leave the peace of this grove." Dakawun nodded. The disreputable looking warrior had been smitten ever since meeting Amarellda, and the lithe young sorceress had been taken with Kal's easy way, ready laugh and roguish good looks.
"How about Vasart? I hear very little of church politics this far north of the capital." Dakawun laughed
"Ah yes, now Father Vasart, rather than brother. He is very well. Unlike the rest of us, he told everyone that he had undertaken the quest and would not die of age. As I understand the church was prepared to brand him a heretic they had him interrogated and got him to tell them all about the fountain, the guardian and the fact that the well dried up after we had all drank from it. They kept him alive and well because he still had quite a following amongst the younger members of the church and the orders militant were prepared to fight and die at his command." Graud nodded as he recalled Vasart. The young man had been a high ranking brother officer in the militant order of the One. Traditionally the Fiery Hearts were supposed to gain the favour of their superiors before embarking on any such journeys but Vasart had claimed that he had received a vision from the One, urging him to join them. Graud had been sceptical at first but after the young fighter priest had shown his gifting in prophesying the future and his skills with a blade, Graud had come to believe in the One and in Vasart's claim of it's power.
"So why are the companions being brought together again?" Dakawun grimaced and leaned heavily on his staff,
"Because of my foolishness. There are things changing and shifting Graud, far beyond even my own powers to affect. You are aware, your people, of the Nameless One?" Graud's eyes narrowed as he spoke
"Of course we Dakawun, you know this already. Why?" To the werewolves there were many tales told of that being. The soul-thief and the father of lies were but two names for him. Graud’s people had legends about how they had broken free of their bondage to the Nameless One. Dakawun sighed as he continued
"He is not as powerless as we would like to believe. Even your people, who have broken free from his grip once, are still at risk from his attacks. You know this yes?" Graud leaned back against a tree and nodded.
“The world is becoming a far worse place for all of us Graud. Donoria is straining against herself, perhaps towards civil war. Many will die Graud. Many pointless deaths.”
"There is little for my people to be concerned then is there? Humans have not treated my kind well in the past Dakawun. Why would you tell me this?" Dakawun now sat cross-legged on the grass.
“There is more to the story that simply the fall of a kingdom Graud. Much more than this. I sense more to come. Do you recall the Hellasan invasion of Donoria?”
“Yes. It happened almost two hundred and fifty years ago correct? You did not summon me then. I was grateful for it. I had my own concerns to attend to.”
“I knew that Graud. Just as I knew I would find you here. I knew that threat was coming Graud, I had seen it long before it was brought against me. There is a new threat now, and I do not know where it is coming from, but I know that it will shatter Donoria beyond repair.”
“There is something you are keeping from me Dakawun. The potential destruction of Donoria would not inspire you to gather together all the companions. None of us, save perhaps Kal have any ties to Donoria that would inspire us to risk our lives for her.”
"There are several things that I am keeping from you Graud, but it would not profit you to know them. You will have to trust me until we have gathered the rest of he companions together." Graud shook his head
"I remember the last time you told us false, Dakawun, 'for our own good' you said. This time you shall tell me everything or you may leave." Dakawun sighed.
"Very well. The threat of which I speak is like nothing I have ever felt before. With the Hellasan invasion, I could at least pit myself against it, knowing my foes. This time they keep to the shadows. Would that these shadow agents were all that I have to fear. There is something foreign to what I sense Graud. Something I have never felt before.” Dakawun paused and then shook his head
“You seem to have grown in strength since last we met.”
Graud nodded and made a note of Dakawun’s change in the conversation.
"I noticed that I could almost as soon as I had come here to practice the forms of Kwan Qi. It has enhanced my abilities at spirit binding" Dakawun nodded. Spirit binding, as it was known was an art among werewolf druidhs, in which they bound their spirit to their bodies or weapons to their wielders, strengthening them almost beyond possibility. A spirit bound werewolf could use such power to recover from fatigue, sicknesses, wounds and would also allow a werewolf to enhance their already acute senses.
"I have been studying the effects of the fountain. It appears its effects are similar in some ways and very different in others. In my case, my powers have become much more powerful and refined. I can now do things that before I would have only dreamed at. But still not even I have the power to stop them by myself." Graud nodded and sat on the fallen tree.
"I will help you." He sighed
"I had hoped to spend many more days yet in here, in peace. I have tried to become something better than what I was when you knew me. I had thought that my part in this world was finished. I feel I am almost prepared to return."
"I know of your desire Graud. But unfortunately we can no longer afford to pass away our time like that. What we wish for is not often what we receive, as you well know." Graud nodded as well and then replied.
"In that case you had better tell me more of what is going on Dakawun. I would not wish to walk into this fight unprepared."
"They are intelligent, I know that much. They are recruiting from the peasantry and nobility, and for a start they actually recognise talent, not birthright. It makes them dangerous. They are powerful, and influential in many circles that I cannot move in. Even my position with the King of Donoria is not enough to deter many from joining their ranks. They also have a network which in many cases rivals my own." Dakawun shrugged.
"Other than that I don't know much. All I know is that I have taken too long already. I have been far too late in seeing that I am unable to halt their tide alone. I need you and the others to start fighting them now. Your people have always known the danger of allowing the nameless one access to this world." Graud nodded
"I have spent too long here already. The burdens of my people are the burdens of all people." Graud stood and walked towards his cabin.
"Come, I shall gather my things, and we shall leave." Dakawun nodded. Just like Graud, thought Dakawun as he gazed on the few possessions within the cabin. A small trunk for clothes, a table and chair, a pallet to sleep on and a small place for a fire. There was also an oaken chest in the corner, adorned with werewolf runes and symbols. Graud quickly shed the practise clothes and garbed himself in black woollen robes from the small trunk that were reminiscent of those he had worn when learning Kwan Chi. Retrieving a small leather bag from behind the door, he also packed in his few other changes of clothes. He clipped a leather belt around his waist and hung his long hunting knives from it as well as a small scabbard at the neck to hold another blade, and putting a small throwing knife in the top of each of his boots. He also took two small curiously fashioned leather holsters and fastened one to each of his forearms. Each carried another lightly weighted throwing knife as well as a small length of wire that could be tied end to end to form a two foot long garrotte. Draping a hooded cloak over his shoulders he pulled the hood up over his head and clasped it at the neck with an ordinary looking pin. The robes themselves were quite light, as was the hood. As part of his training in Kwan Chi he could now ignore feelings of heat, cold and even pain, almost to where he was completely unaware of them. He reached over and picked up a small money pouch and slipped it into a pocket within his cloak. He paused, looking at the oaken chest and then opened it. Dakawun watched as Graud also packed his old traditional werewolf clothing. The kilt and the tartan were both packed. He picked up and old tooled leather baldric from out of the chest and quickly tightened it around his chest. Hanging in the sheath that ran downwards from his left shoulder was a leaf shaped werewolf blade. The blade was two and a half feet long and was designed for long cutting sweeps. Graud had owned the blade for many hundreds of years after having commissioned a dwarf weaponsmith to forge such a weapon.
"I am ready." Dakawun nodded. The two left, Graud looking behind him sadly at the place he had named home for the past decades and walked into town. The small township of Frell was close to the mountains and on the edge of primeval woodlands. The air was brisk and sharp scented with an aspen edge to it. Winter came quite early here, though it was only autumn.
"It would be best if you did the talking Dakawun, the villagers are uneasy around my people, and around me, despite my living here for almost a hundred years or so." Dakawun nodded. Werewolves were regarded by most people to be demons who would kill any human they encountered and any werewolf entering a human settlement unescorted by a human would most probably be run from the town. For Graud to have lived here this long was a rarity. Part of this intolerance was the fault of the intractable nature of werewolves themselves towards humans. Werewolves would allow none outside of their people to learn their language, though many of the more southern clans were taught both the language of Graustein and sometimes even basic Donorian. Dakawun walked into the village tavern and lodging house while Graud stood outside by the door. It was only slightly past mid day so the tavern was almost empty, save for a few labourers enjoying a late lunch. The smell of old ale and smoke assailed Dakawun's senses and his eyes flickered around the room as he approached the bartender.
"Excuse me friend, but I am looking for someone, perhaps you can help me." The bartender looked down on the small mage as he spoke.
"He was not very tall or short, somewhere in between, but he is most evidently a warrior. He had a face you would remember though, it was scarred with a broken nose. And he has only one eye. He would have been with a traveling woman." The bartender nodded and continued to polish one of the heavy clay pintmugs.
"And if I had?" Dakawun smiled easily, his hand reaching suggestively for his money pouch
"Then you would tell us and we would be on our way, after having given you something for your trouble." the bartender nodded.
"Your friend was through here three days ago, he had a woman with him, she looked like on of those Travelling People, just like you said." Dakawun nodded
"That sounds exactly like him." he said, putting two silver coins on the bar.
"Now, do you happen to know how and which gate he left from?" The bartender shrugged and examined the mug.
"I think they left with a slate merchants wagon. I think I overheard him saying something like playing mercenary to a rock seller. The merchant if I recall was heading towards the west and then south. He was a stingy bastard too." Dakawun smiled and clapped down four more silver coins
"Thank you friend, you may have just halved the time of my journey." Dakawun continued to smile as he left. Graud broke straight into step with Dakawun as he left the tavern
"They have three days on us, perhaps four. They left with a slate merchant through the west gate." Graud nodded as the two made their way to a nearby stable.
"We should be able to catch them with some good horses underneath us, caravans don't travel too fast, especially when they're carrying slate." Dakawun grimaced. While it was true that he had endured many hours on horseback he still held a measure of distaste for the creatures.
They found the stables on the eastern side of town. Dakawun’s eyes quickly flitted from side to side. No-one was watching. The stable master would more than likely not wish to trade with a beggar. Dakawun muttered a few words under his breath. Graud looked on with a small amount of fascination as Dakawun’s garments shifted and changed in the light, their ragged appearance suddenly changing, giving him the appearance of a reasonably wealthy merchant. Dakawun saw the look of slight amusement on Graud’s face
“It aids sometimes, to look the part that one wishes to play.” Graud nodded as they entered the stable. Leaning against a wall was a man in well worn clothing. The smell that lingered about him was the smell of horses and sweat that made Graud distinctly uncomfortable. The horse groom looked up at them in a bored fashion
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Dakawun nodded.
"We need four good horses. Your best." The groom suddenly looked a lot more interested in them.
"I can offer you the four best horses for three towns. If you'll walk right this way." He led them to an outside corral, where a dozen horses walked, ran or simply grazed peacefully at the grass. The man pointed
"Those steel-dust over there, they were born of two of my best ever." he turned and pointed at another horse that stood by itself. A dappled grey horse that stood apart from the rest of the herd
"That's Gray, he's a fierce, spirited horse. But he's stronger pound for pound then any I have seen in all my horsing days, I can tell you." The man shrugged
"Aside from those three, none of these horses are anything special, but if you were really wanting the best of them I would take that mare standing by the fence over there." Dakawun nodded
"How much, for saddles and bridals as well?" The man smiled and rubbed his hands together.
"For all those four horses and riding tack, it'll be ten gold antar all up." Dakawun shook his head.
"I said how much for those four horses, not the corral. Now perhaps you'll quote us a realistic price. Although I have heard that the coaches that travel westwards are quite adequate for the journey we seek to undertake and very comfortable." Dakawun smiled slyly and stroked his beard.
"For as much as a gold antar apiece I have heard. And that includes meals." The horse dealer shrugged.
"That's true, but you'd get there in a quarter of the time on a good horse. Also, the next coach leaves in a few days and if you are in any kind of hurry you won’t go by coach. But I couldn't part with them for anything less than eight gold flat." Dakawun shook his head.
"I want to buy horses, not set up an inheritance for your grand children. Six gold five silver." The man shook his head once more
"If I were to give away such horses like these to that little amount, I would impoverish my family for generations. Seven gold six silver." Dakawun shook his head and put his hands on his hips
"Seven gold flat." The man nodded and held out his hand
"Done." Dakawun nodded and shook the mans hand
"I'll need them saddled and ready in quarter of an hour." The man nodded and waved over his two fellows.
"Saddle up Gray, Trotter, Rath and Rosebay. Full tack, bridal and saddle bags. Quickly." The two men nodded and quickly rounded up the horses
"Well gentlemen, would you care to step into my office for a quick mug of tea? It is still morning and my cook brews up a good cup." Dakawun looked over at Graud who nodded.
"We would be honoured." They followed the man into his office. The office was a low beamed and comfortable room, with a small fireplace filled with glowing coals. A window in the west wall opened towards the mountains and the desk was mostly clear of paperwork. They sat down at the chairs he indicated as he fetched an earthen-ware jug from the hearth where it had been warming. He picked out three large mugs from a cupboard and filled them almost to the brim, handing one each to Dakawun and Graud and then offering them either honey or cream. Dakawun declined both but Graud added a generous helping of each.
"If I may ask, where are you two gentlemen travelling to?" Dakawun sipped lightly at the tea and raised his eyebrows in appreciation
"This is good. We are travelling westwards, a slate merchant was through here not long ago and he owes me some money. A lot more than the seven gold you saw today." The man nodded
"Old Claude, eh? He's a slippery one. He once traded me some of his wares for some horses to pull his wagons. Seemed a good deal to me, until I found that what he had traded me was the leavings from a rock quarry" the man paused to sip at his coffee
"But I squared it up with him. He replaced all the tiles on all my buildings with top quality fine carved stone, I had a stonemason friend of mine make sure of everything in case he tried it again." The sipped once more from his coffee
"But he knows that he's to be careful when dealing with us now. Small towns have a way of not trading with those that we know are cheats. We recently got ourselves a new broker in the town, one whose scales always seem a little different to our friend Claude. Funny that eh?" Graud and Dakawun nodded appreciatively, and took long pulls from their tea. Dakawun looked deeply into the horse merchant's eyes, though the rest of his body remained relaxed.
"Has anything you would call strange happened in this village in the past few days?" The man shook his head.
"Not that I can think of, no. Why? Has there been anything you’ve heard of?" Dakawun shook his head.
"Not really, just heard a rumour or two in one of the other villages. Nothing to really worry about." The man shook his head.
"That is one of the things I enjoy about living here. It is quiet and peaceful, and very little out of the ordinary ever happens." Dakawun nodded,
"That is indeed a fine thing to look for in a home." They finished their drinks in silence until one of the wranglers knocked politely at the door.
"Excuse me good sirs, but your horses are ready." Graud and Dakawun were quick to leave, Graud mounting up on Gray, while Dakawun sat himself on Rosebay, taking the reins of the other two horses and tying them to his saddle horn. The two rode quickly to the west gate and then out of town. Nida smiled as he watched the two strangers gallop quickly out of sight and turned to his workers
"Boys, I've something to see to in town. You're in charge Bill." Nida quickly walked away, heading towards the towns blacksmith. He walked into the forge and called for the blacksmith
"Gus!" The blacksmith looked up from the plough he was tending. Like all blacksmiths he was muscular from continuous hours at the forge with thick black hair covering his arms and chest wherever his leather apron did not. His head was bald, and covered in sweat from both the immense heat of the forge and from the efforts of his work.
"Nida, what is it I can do for you?" Nida leaned in close to the blacksmith and murmured.
"I await for the return." Gus looked around quickly
"And for the coming of He whose name is sacred." Nida swallowed nervously.
"I have news." Gus nodded and crossed his arms
"If it is like the news you gave last time Nida, it will not be worthy of your speaking it. Your punishment this time would be something that not even you could withstand." Nida shook his head furiously. He had given incorrect news last time and his punishment had been to work in the forge for three days, enduring the heat without respite nor any water to quench his thirst. The pain had been close to completely unbearable, though bore it he had, vowing revenge.
"An old man and a werewolf just bought horses off me. They said they were going to follow Hans the slate merchant in order to get some money that he owed them." Gus narrowed his eyes.
"That is not news Nida, there are many old men in this world, and werewolves have been known to hire on as body guards before." Nida nodded and licked his lips. The heat of the forge was bringing back the memories of how his body had burned with thirst during his punishment.
"I know that, and here is the part that you will find interesting. They didn't know the man's name for one thing. I asked them if they were after Claude rather than Hans the slate merchant and they said yes." Gus nodded.
"The other part is that the old man was short, very short. He carried a long staff, had an old hat, just like we’ve been told the accursed does." Gus smiled.
"That does indeed sound very much like the description I was given of a man to look out for. How many did he have with him?"
"Only the werewolf. But he bought four horses, each with riding tack. So I would suspect that he is meeting two other friends along the way, or else they are riding in shifts to increase their pace." Gus nodded once more.
"That would sound right from everything I have been told. This is good news Nida, Very good. Where are they now?" Nida pointed westwards
"They are headed west and then south after the slate merchant. I sent them after him so that we might be able to net all four of them at once." Gus grinned, his eyes glowing red from the forge.
"That is good. I will send a message to our agents in the next town to tell them to watch for any who matches the description of either the old man and the wolf, or any of the other Accursed." Gus walked quickly to a large barrel in the forge and washed the accumulated soot and grime from his hands as he continued to speak
"Tell me which horses you sold them and give me accurate descriptions. There is ink, pen and parchment in the cupboard by your head and mind you well that you give me no falsities. I’ll have you dead should even one error be found." Nida was quick to take down the descriptions of the animals he had sold. He smiled inwardly as he wrote. That idiot Gus has over stepped his bounds with me for the last time. I shall reap all I can from this windfall, and leave him broken and dying in a gutter.
Dakawun sat slightly stiffly in the saddle, holding the reins with one hand and stroking his chin with the other. Graud had been relatively easy to find, it had merely been the matter of casting the correct scrying spell, but trying to track down Kal and Amarellda could very likely be impossible should they not wish to be found. The scrying spell would give the target’s location at that point in time and was taxing to cast. If Kal and Amarellda were indeed traveling then by the time he made his way to where he had scryed them out, they would more than likely be gone from there, making this chase necessary. Sending out a member of his network would have been highly unadvisable, that he knew well enough. The fractured trust between he and Kal was fragile enough without wanting to make the man think he, Dakawun, thought the warrior a lackey or that he had been following his movements. On the other hand, Filgum should be close to finding Jimtrey easily once he reached Reynamoth, the city of pirates. From there, those two could quickly cross the ocean and find Haakon and Yui. He smiled to himself, Vasart would most probably prove to be the easiest to find. The pious cleric was most probably still in the order he had founded in the city of Bascilus. From there it would be a small thing to assemble the Companions once more. By his ancestors he swore that he would not allow the Retriam to undo all of his work in Donoria.
Graud frowned. He could probably track Kal and Amarellda from the next town should he need to. That would be easy enough. He shook his head and continued to ride. Something didn't feel right. Something didn't smell right. A hunter renowned among his people, he had learned long ago to trust his instincts. He looked about quickly, straining his ears for any sound that was out of the ordinary. There was nothing there but trees and birds and the odd squirrel or mouse. Wolves now avoided the road after large carriages began to travel along, trundling heavily along the dirt road. A small group of pigeons, each bearing a small piece of leather tied to their forelegs flew above them. Graud shrugged as the uneasy feeling came and went with the pigeons. He shook his head, dismissing the doubts as easily as they had come. He would enjoy spending time with Kal again. Among all the humans that he knew he preferred the company of the fighter above them all. He cast a quick sideways look at Dakawun. The mage was, as usual lost in thought and Graud knew better than to disturb him. By his very nature Graud was cautious and in the presence of the mage he was doubly so. Dakawun was not one that Graud could ever allow himself to underestimate, nor be blindly lead by. He was constantly plotting and rarely so open with his thoughts. Graud was worried but kept his face emotionless. If Dakawun was truly worried as he suspected then this would be a time of great trouble.
Upon a hill, many miles away, a figure stood, his fur sewn cloak wrapped around his shoulders, and a heavy oaken staff clutched in his heavily furred right hand. The figure faced south, his deep blue eyes watching. Times were changing, he knew. But then, they were always changing. Men did evil, men did good. But in this place, at this time, men did both and men did neither, choosing simply to do nothing, not realizing that this was as bad as evil in itself. Directly south of him were what men called the Graustein mountains. The duke there was a man of honour, as were his sons. He had overseen the family, watching them. The duke now kept the agreement of the duke long ago. For he and his people, the hatred of humans was far too easily earned and so hard to dispel. And yet, these men were good men, perhaps even great men. He knew them well enough himself, respecting the duke, Alberich von Graustein. He had known the family for many centuries, and knew them by the title he and his people had given them. An Fear idir Domhanda, the man between worlds. The staff in his hands was heavy, almost as heavy as the years he bore. The thousands of years he bore. Ancient eyes watched all before him and he sighed. Before him and his own people was a time like a woman birthing. There would be great pain, she would lose much blood. She would cry out in her pangs, and he would hear her every cry of pain, knowing that he could only try to guide her along the path, like a husband holding the hand of his wife all throughout the birth. But when the birthing was completed, they would marvel at the newborn. His hand rose into the sky, grasping. His eyes closed and he began to chant, his voice low, the words in the old language of his people. A feather, caught by the wind slid though the air, its edges ruffling and whistling, so great was its speed. The cap of the feather slashed into the palm of his hand, impaling it. He lowered his hand and pulled the feather loose with reverence, holding it with his left hand. His chanting continued and he ran the feather through the blood on his right hand. He held the feather before him and in front of his eyes the dark blood became as bright silver. He turned the feather, to see its untouched side. Just as night and day, he thought before he ran the other side through the blood that continued to run along his hand. Silver now coated both sides. His voice reached a crescendo and he hurled the feather into the air. He knew it would reach its course.
JZ
This writing is copyrighted to Joshua Zugai as his intellectual property and is his. Take it and he will hunt you down and feed you to his lawyer.
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