Mortals & Deities (8 page)

If wishes were gold and rainbows could be sold, we would live like kings until we grew old!

He laughed out loud at the thought of the old children’s rhyme. Forcing himself to action, he stepped out of his tiny room and raced back to the kitchen.

His mother met him at the door, a large sack of her own in her hand. “I think it best if you leave by the side door. The girls are still a bit shaken after what they saw.” She held out the sack. “There should be enough food here to see you to Mocley. Or, at least it will if you do not dawdle along the way.”

With a grunt, he took the sack from his mother. It felt as if she had stuffed an entire sheep’s carcass into it. Adding it to the other over his shoulder, he turned and headed down the hall toward the side door.

“Alant Cor! You have lost all your manners if you think you are leaving here without so much as a word fare well.” Turning, he stared at his mother, hands on hips and foot tapping as if there was not a concern other than him behaving as he should.

“Ma.” The fact that the word came out more of a whine than a statement affirmed that events had unnerved him more than he was willing to admit. Setting down his packs, he crossed back to his mother and gave her a hug. “I am not sure how long I will be gone. Once I figure out what the Elmorians have done to me, and mayhaps how I can mend it, I will return.”

She cupped his chin in her hand and forced him to look her in the eye. “You have always been strong, Alant. And you have always made me proud. Whatever has happened to you, know you will always have a home here. Neither Shaper nor Elmorian can ever take that away from you.”

It is more than that, Ma. More than you can even know.

He could not voice to her what raced through his mind, so he gave her a smile he hoped looked convincing. “I love you, Ma.”

She embraced him once more. “I love you too, son.” After a brief, tight squeeze, she pushed him away and wiped a sleeve across her eyes. Reaching into her apron pocket, she withdrew two ta’narians. “Here.” She placed them into Alant’s hand.

He stared at them, astonished. Never had he seen so much coin. “Where…?” It must have been her and Papa’s life savings. He thrust the coins back. “Nix, Ma. I cannot take these.”

Shaking her head, she closed his fingers around the coin. “That is more than we could spend in a lifetime here. Your Papa told Arderi that when he gave it to us.”

This struck Alant harder than seeing the coins. “Arderi? He gave you these!”

Nodding, his mother giggled. “It seems that they are not as valuable in the city as they are here. You will need them more than us.” Her giggle turned into a laugh. “Besides, we cannot even find anyone who can give us change for them.” She smiled. “Now, go. If you feel the Shapers here will give you trouble, you need to be outside the walls before they know you have gone.”

Shoving the coins into his pocket, Alant returned to his packs and slung them back over his shoulder. “I will come back, Ma. I promise.” Lifting the handle on the door, he stepped out into the alleyway between the public houses and made his way to the fielder’s gate.

With a few odd looks from the guarders as he inquired after which field the men of his house were working, he passed out of his home stead. As happy as he was to be home, he had not realized that a knot had formed in his chest until it relaxed once the walls of the stead dropped out of sight behind him.

I could not have stayed. Even without the Shapers meddling. It is past time for me to figure out what has happened to me. And mayhaps find a way to help Shaith get off the isle of Elmorr’eth at the same time.

Walking down the main gravel road, Alant took one of the side trails about half an aurn distance from the stead. The sun sat high and a brisk cool breeze blew through the surrounding countryside. The small copses of trees, their leaves beginning to turn shades of orange and red and brown, swayed along with the remaining crops of wheat. They had turned yellow, indicating they were ready to harvest. Winter approached. Before it came, the last of the wheat fields would be harvested and made ready for the winter season. Topping a rise, he saw wagons sitting in an already harvested field and men working a field that was nearly bare of crop. Two mounted guarders came trotting up, and despite his best efforts, a lump of fear rose to Alant’s throat.

Be at ease, now. There is no way these guarders could have heard anything yet.

“Well met.” The guarder was young and Alant did not recognize him nor his companion.

“Well met. I am here to speak with my papa, Tanin Cor.”

A smile spread across the young guarder’s face. “Ah! You must be Alant, then. He has often spoken of you. I was gladdened to learn that no ill had befallen you.” Waving a hand to the far side of the field, he pointed. “Tanin is over there.”

Shifting his packs, Alant inclined his head. “My thanks to you.” He then headed in the direction indicated, though he did not go far before he saw his papa jogging over to meet him.

When they came together, Alant let his packs slip from his shoulder. A worried look from Tanin held his tongue, giving the older man the opportunity to speak first. “Is everything all right, son?”

Trying to form his words so as not to worry the man, Alant nodded. “Aye, Papa. Though I am afraid if I do not leave now, it may not be.”

Tanin glanced over Alant’s shoulder at the two guarders who still sat on their horses near the wagons. “Tell me.”

“A Shaper came to the house this morn and wanted me to attend the Grand Master. I—I chose not to go with him.”

A grim look warred with one of pain on his papa’s face and he eyed the packs at Alant’s feet. “Aye. It may be best that you leave, at that.” He pointed to the sacks on the ground. “Did your Ma make one of those?” At Alant’s nod, he continued. “Well, I guess she gave you the coin that your brother left then?”

“Aye, Papa. How did Arderi—”

A raised hand from Tanin silenced him. “It is not important at this time.” Glancing back to the guarders, he looked toward the direction of Hild’alan. “If the Shapers have taken an interest in you, my boy, they will not give up easily.” He reached down and picked up one of the packs. “Come. Let us walk and talk.” Heeding his own words, he headed for the trail.

Grabbing the other sack, Alant took a few quick steps to fall in beside his papa. He felt as if he had betrayed his family. As if his being here had brought them trouble, though he did not know what the Shapers would do. “Papa, I am sorry for bringing this upon you and Ma.”

Cutting his eyes at Alant, Tanin grunted. “Where else would you have gone, son?” Again, he raised a hand to forestall an answer. “Listen, you have not offered much of an explanation as to what brought you here, nor have I asked. I do not know what you are running from, and I am not sure if I could help you even if I did. You were meant for much greater things than I. I have always known my place on this Plane, and I am grateful to the gods for what they have given me.” It pained Alant to hear his papa speak so of himself. “I have always known that you—and Arderi, as well—were more. And I also give the gods thanks for that.” His papa fell silent, as if collecting his thoughts. “I just want you to know that your Ma and I are here for you. And we always will be.”

It felt good to hear his papa say that. They had always been close, though these last few winters of separation had brought many changes. “I know, Papa.”

They reached the trail that led back to the main road and Tanin pointed away from Hild’alan. “It will not take them long to figure out you have left the stead. On foot, you have near a tenday trek ahead of you to reach the city. Keep up a good pace until you hit the main roadway to Mocley. Then, keep close to cover if it is available and a good eye to the road behind. Most of the land between here and Mocley is flat, so you should be able to see any group coming long before they see a lone man on foot. Take cover when you do and let them pass.” He held out a hand.

Alant shook it, yet it was not enough. Stepping forward, he embraced his papa. “Thank Ma for me again.” His voice became husky and he cleared his throat. “And tell her not to worry. I will be fine once I can find some answers to what has happened to me.”

Tanin pushed Alant to arms reach. “You just take care of yourself, lad, and let us worry about what we want.” As bad as Alant felt, he was amazed that Tanin smiled. “I am proud of you, son. Truly proud.” Reaching out, he adjusted the packs on Alant’s shoulder. “I know it will be near impossible. Still, when you reach Mocley, see if you can find your brother. The two of you should be together during this. At least then you will both have someone you can trust.”

“I will, Papa.”

Grabbing Alant by the shoulders and turning him around, Tanin pushed him toward the main road. “Get going, you.”

Alant could not help except laugh. Looking over his shoulder, he gave his papa one last grin and started his feet walking.

I just hope the questions I need answers to have answers that I can find.

The tendays that followed kept the Vimith household a buzz of activity. Not a servant was spared in the preparations for the
Expedition
as many had taken to calling it. Rohann Vimith spent most of his time at his apartments in Mocley, procuring supplies for the several tenday-long journey. Wagonloads of goods and supplies had arrived at the villa for near a moon now. Boxes and crates and jute sacks filled every room not otherwise occupied, even spilling out into the courtyard—those outside covered by large leather tarpaulins to protect them from the elements.

Extra wagons and horses littered the barns and stables out back. Two blacksmiths and a Shaper had taken up temporary residence in the villa while they worked to repair and ready everything for the long trek.

Klain spent most of this time caring for Charver Vimith, as he had since arriving at the villa near five moons gone. The boy-cub kept Klain on his hindpaws through much of the daylight aurns. Racing along on all fours as Charver rode his horse was one of Klain’s favorite pastimes, for it let him revel in the freedom he now enjoyed. Still, a game of Rillball out in the yard or exploring the wooded areas that surrounded the villa were also pleasurable. He even tolerated playing board games—stones and Barca being the two Charver asked for most.

The one thing Klain regretted was that he had not spoken with Timms yet. It was as if the Human was avoiding him. Well, avoiding him more than usual. Klain felt sure the man did not believe he had been forgiven for his past transgressions. Even Klain had to admit letting the Human off so easily for trying to sell him back into slavery surprised him. Still, in his mind, Timms had redeemed himself by risking his life for the boy-cub, and that was good enough for Klain.

This morn, however, his young charge was with his tutor, and Klain was determined to find Timms and have a few words with the man. Figuring that the old bodyguard would be behind the main barn practicing swords with his men, this is where Klain headed.

The ring of steel on steel reverberated through the air. Not the high-pitched ting of hammer striking anvil, as was so prominent this past tenday. It was the lower clang of steel dampened by hands gripping hilts. Rounding the corner of the barn, he saw a group of eight Humans standing around talking. Two more men were in the middle of the group holding blunt practice swords. Timms, his bald head dripping sweat, crouched in a defensive position, as Lith, a stout barrel of a man, rocked back and forth from foot to foot, spinning his practice sword like a baton.

“What are you waiting on, Lith?” Timms seemed winded. Something Klain had never witnessed before while the man trained. “You going to play with that thing, or are you going to hit me for once?”

Lith reached up, wiped away the sweat from his brow and grinned. “You are getting old, Timms. I have never lasted this long against you.”

Whipping his sword in like a snake, Timms smacked it on Lith’s spinning blade, though the other man retained his grip. “Mayhaps I am toying with you. Trying to build up your confidence. The gods know you need it.”

This inspired a few chuckles from the spectators. Narn paled when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Klain approaching. Reaching out, Klain clamped a paw to the man’s shoulder and bared his fangs in his best interpretation of a Human smile. “Narn. It is always good to get a
paw
on you.” Extending his claws, he let them penetrate the man’s cloth shirt. He stopped short of breaking the skin, however. Though Klain never held a grudge to the man for his involvement in his betrayal—the man had been following orders after all—it pleased Klain that Narn feared him more than ever.

The small man dipped his shoulder trying to remove Klain’s sharp claws from his flesh. “Hail, M—Master Klain.”

The man stank of fear, and Klain’s smile broadened. A loud clang drew everyone’s attention to the men in the circle. Lith had lunged in, no doubt hoping to use Klain’s arrival as a distraction. Timms batted the other man’s blunt blade to the side, spun behind him, and locked his own blade across Lith’s neck. “It seems I am not as old as you believe.” Placing a boot on the man’s back, Timms kicked him sprawling into the dust.

Before Lith could regain his footing, Klain stepped forward. “Timms! I will have a moment of your time.”

Looking as if he would rather be somewhere else, Timms stood up straight and tossed his practice sword to Narn, who fumbled with it before it fell to the ground. “You men continue. I will return when I can.” Brushing the dust from his pants, he stepped toward Klain. “Where do you wish to speak?”

“We can walk.” Without waiting for the Human, Klain headed off down the path that led away from the villa. Timms did not immediately join him. This was not surprising, given the Human’s mistrust. However, Klain had left his Mi’nathe blade in his room to help ease some of the man’s anxiety.

Not that I need a sword to kill a lone Human!

Before Klain had reached the edge of the barn, Timms walked along next to him. “All right, Master Klain. What seems to be on your furry mind?”

The slight against his mane did not go unnoticed, though Klain decided to let it slide. He had other concerns at the moment. “I did not come out here to banter quips with you, Timms. I came to discuss this
Expedition
, as everyone calls it.”

Chuckling, the man reached down and picked up a round stone that lay in their path. “I figured a big scary beast like you would not be afraid of some old bard’s tale.”

As antagonistic as ever, Klain realized he would not get what he wanted if he let Timms set his anger on edge. He had to think—not one of his strongest abilities. “You were arguing with Master Vimith about this trip. Why?”

The man bounced the stone in his hands as they walked. Snatching it out of the air, he grinned at Klain. “You do not know, do you?”

“Why would I ask if I knew?” His anger rose. “For that matter, why would I even speak to you if I did not have cause?” Controlling his breathing like Charver had taught him, he forced himself to relax. Stopping, he reached out and grabbed Timms by the shoulder. “I need to know what dangers lay ahead if I am to protect the boy.” He was proud of himself for keeping his tone even. He really did want to gut this man and watch him die in pain.

Timms stared at him for several long moments, bouncing the stone in his palm once more. Finally, he shrugged and tossed the stone into the grass next to the path. “Fine. In that one thing, you and I have a common goal. So I will tell you.” He turned and started walking once more, forcing Klain to catch him up.

“Many stories tell of an ancient city lost in a vast jungle. Sar’Xanthia. The stories all revolve around treasure. Some of gold and silver or mayhaps gems and jewelry. Others focus on strange artifacts of an age long forgotten. Artifacts with powers and abilities unheard of.” Plucking a length of grass, he stuck it in his mouth and chewed. “I know of several who have gone looking for this place, though I know of none who have returned.”

This made no sense. “Why does Rohann wish to find this Sar’Xanthia? He seems to have all the treasure he needs.”

This caused Timms to stop and hold Klain in his gaze. “Some men want more than wealth. They want adventure. They want to leave their names for historians to write about. They want…” Sighing, he pulled the grass stalk from his mouth. “Men want to feel like they have accomplished something while they still walk this Plane.”

“You sound as if you are looking forward to going.”

“Oh, I am!” Timms stuck the grass back into his mouth and smiled. “This promises to be the adventure of a lifetime.”

Klain did not understand. “Then why were you so upset with Rohann?”

“Two reasons.” Timms paused. “The biggest for me is that Rohann has not shown me this map he claims to have. As far as I know, none exist.” He waved a hand in front of his face to shoo off a bug. “Oh, sure. Every other merchant in the Bazaar claims to have a map that will lead you to the riches of the lost city. Yet, they are all fake. At best, you will lose your coin for purchasing one of them. At worst, you will follow it to your death.”

“And the second?”

“The boy! The reason you came to me to have this discussion! I have tried to get Rohann to leave the boy behind. This Expedition is no place for a child. Whether or not Rohann has a map—which I feel he is lying about—many who leave with us will not return.” Pulling the grass from his mouth, he flicked it to the ground. “Look. I will admit that I was wrong about you when you first arrived. It is hard to have a…” He snorted a laugh. “…a beast, to compete with. You threatened my position. I figured it would be easier to have you out of the way. I see now that you are good for the boy. He is less of an annoyance, that is for certain. Still, I do not think even your great strength will be enough to protect him where we are headed.”

The sincerity in the man’s voice took Klain by surprise. He had not expected such an honest, heartfelt answer. It also created a greater fear for the boy’s safety. “How can we put an end to this, then?”

Laughing, Timms shook his head. “You are the boy’s protector, not his father. If Rohann wants the boy to go, then the boy will be going.” Brushing past Klain, he started to walk back toward the villa. “It will be a matter of you and I ensuring that the boy survives.”

Klain stood in the early morn sun, enjoying the cooling breeze blowing across his fur. He watched the bald man disappear around the barn at the edge of the compound. He had gleaned some answers from the Human, and added some questions. Still, if Timms had accepted the fact that the path ahead had been chosen for them, who was he to think he could change it.

I will just have to ensure that the boy-cub is never more than a paw length away.