The Grim Wanderer (16 page)

Rodan and Derad made off through the rain to search for their horse, whilst Forgrun went over to pick up his throwing axe. Forgrun stooped to retrieve his hand-axe, yanking it loose from the bandit’s head, and spat on the floor. The fourth Rhungar just stood against the wagon, patient and still.

‘I do hate these bandits,’ Forgrun snarled, ‘they be usin’ fear ter control ye whole region. We do come from ye west, but do hear ye town ter north be under thy control. He who be called ye Bandit King – he be stealin’ from ye man folk, and they be powerless to stop him.’ Forgrun shook his head.

‘What about the real King?’ Baek said.

‘From what I be hearin’,’ Forgrun muttered, ‘he’s be havin’ trouble enough rulin’ court in Arilon, let alone eastern frontiers. Aritas be not ye great nation it once was. They say it be a pale shadow of its former self.’

‘Sounds like these people need some help,’ Taem looked to Baek.

‘Aye! – yer goin’ ter take him on?’ Forgrun looked eagerly at Taem. ‘I do like thy style, we’ll give this scum a good thumpin’!’

Rodan came up to Forgrun, dragging with him the Rhungars’ massive horse, one of a breed of horses the Rhungars called Dhurrans. Taem thought the great beast was a shire horse, but the Rhungari horse would dwarf even one of those.

‘We be findin’ Cyril,’ Rodan reached up to pat the horse’s nose, ‘ye coward ran off scared!’

Cyril snorted at that, and contemptuously shook his long mane and stamped his hoof.

‘Hah Hah!’ Rodan boomed. ‘I be calmin’ him down an’ gettin’ him back tied ter wagon.’

‘Yhee two should carry on back home ter Dundean,’ Forgrun said to Rodan and Derad. ‘Tell me father I do be goin’ on a quest with me new companions – fer Kaladim an’ glory.’

‘I can promise little in the way of glory,’ Taem said.

‘Nay! – Nonsense!’ Forgrun bellowed. ‘We will be glorious!’

‘It be a bad omen
,
’ Rodan frowned, ‘ter travel with ye Aborle,’ Rodan glanced sceptically at Baek, and the Aborle glowered back.

‘Nay!’ Forgrun said gruffly. ‘Cousin Rodan, this here Aborle be savin’ our lives! That be good enough for me trust.’

‘Yer be young and impulsive Forgrun,’ Rodan grunted, ‘yhee be doing better ter return ter thy father.’

‘Aye!’ Forgrun snapped. ‘I thank yhee for thy counsel, cousin; but me Kaladim be nay trivial matter!’

‘O’ course, me Lord,’ Rodan bowed.

Logan had told Taem that Rhungars were formidable fighters: dauntless and strong, incredibly tough, and capable of extreme endurance. They were an oath-bound people, to them the smallest promise was unbreakable. Kaladim – what the Rhungars called honour – was all important.

‘My father do say there be much evil in this world,’ Forgrun said dourly, ‘tell him I be goin’ ter vanquish it with me new companions.’

‘Aye, Forgrun,’ Rodan nodded. ‘As yhee wish it… Thy mother be nay pleased.’ Rodan smiled. ‘Or thy betrothed, Ethselbed.’

‘Tell me mother an’ Ethselbed I be home soon,’ Forgrun mumbled, red-faced. ‘I be missin’ her, but I be stayin’ with this Man an’ this Aborle until I be returnin’ thy favour and be savin’ thine lives.’

‘An’ thy marriage?’ Rodan smirked.

‘O’ course,’ Forgrun muttered, ‘af’er I do return…’

The rain still fell in bucket loads so the new companions did not dawdle long. Forgrun had collected up a few possessions and lifted a hefty pack onto his broad squat form, whilst the two other Rhungars climbed up onto the wagon.

‘The Ancestors guard yhee,’ Rodan said ceremoniously, ‘an’ return yhee ter halls o’ thy father – sooner rather than later, fer thy sake.’

‘Aye!’ Forgrun said. ‘Journey well, Rodan.’

‘Good day to yhee,’ Rodan said briskly to Taem and Baek, as he flicked the reigns, stirring the huge horse into motion. As the wagon pulled away, Derad nodded his head to the four companions, but maintained the same stoic silence that he held throughout.

‘It be day an’ ‘alf north ter Gulren.’ Forgrun looked eagerly to his two new companions.

‘I’ll get the horses,’ Baek went back down the road.

‘Forgrun,’ Taem said, ‘are you sure you want to come with us?’

‘I ne’er be more sure in me life!’ Forgrun said happily. ‘Father do want me ter marry and be thy Lord o’ Citadel. I do want adventure, battle… an’ so much beer I can nay stand!’

‘Well if you want adventure,’ Taem laughed, ‘you’ve come to the right place. But who is your friend,’ Taem gestured to the fourth Rhungar, who had been neither introduced or acknowledged. This Rhungar was much smaller than Forgrun, and had a long black beard.

‘Be who?’ Forgrun said.

‘The Rhungar standing just behind you?’ Taem pointed at the Rhungar with the black tree-rings tattooed over the crown of his head, dressed all in dark clothing.

‘Oh,’ Forgrun snorted. ‘That be Bodran. He be sworn ter Gromm.’

Bodran dipped his head at Taem.

‘He is your manservant?’ Taem asked.

‘Nay servant,’ Forgrun shook his head. ‘He do be a helper, but he do serve me family ter regain lost Kaladim.’

‘How did you lose your Kaladim?’ Taem asked Bodran, but the Rhungar just shook his head.

‘He sworn nay ter speak,’ Forgrun said. ‘In truth, I nay do know his slight ter me family, but me father do sent him ter follow me.’

Bodran bowed to Taem.

‘Have you fought Nargs and Krun before?’ Baek returned with the horses.

‘Hah!’ Forgrun boomed. ‘Have me? Ev’ry summer since I be a whelp!’

Baek looked at Forgrun in disbelief, not sure if he was boasting or speaking the truth.

‘Let’s get moving then,’ Taem said, as they loitered in the rain. ‘We can be at this Gulren by nightfall tomorrow.’

‘Aye! What be we waitin’ fer then?’ The Rhungar said purposefully, as he strode off northward along the Mountain Way. Bodran followed close behind.

Taem and Baek grinned at each other, as they followed Forgrun through the downpour.

By the evening the cloud had cleared, and Taem could see the setting sun on the western horizon. The four companions set up camp in the open, at the top of a grassy hill, surrounded by views of the rolling downs.

‘Do we light a fire on this hilltop?’ Baek looked to the rolling hills to the south.

‘There’s been no sign of pursuit since Borleon,’ Taem gazed to the east and the Dredgen Mountains. ‘We can risk a fire up here tonight,’ Taem saw some small trees at the bottom of the hill’s western slope, and he set off to collect some firewood.

‘I be got some salt’d beef in me pack,’ Forgrun rummaged through his backpack as he sat down on the ground. ‘It be wet!’ The Rhungar rocketed back up onto his feet, whilst rubbing his behind. ‘Are yhee sure this be the bes’ place fer us to camp?’

Bodran smiled.

‘Of course it’s wet!’ Baek said sharply. ‘It was raining four hours ago. I thought Rhungars had memories as long as their beards?’

Bodran glared at Baek.

‘They do!’ Forgrun muttered. ‘At leas’ they do when it comes ter import’nt things’.

‘I picked up some mushrooms earlier,’ Baek set his backpack on the floor. ‘We could make a good hot pot with your beef.’

‘Be ruinin’ good meat with vegetables?’ Forgrun scoffed. ‘My mother be warnin’ me o’ Aborle cookery.’

Bodran grimaced at the thought of disgusting Aborle food.

‘Mushrooms are not vegetables,’ Baek said smugly.

‘They be ye same thing,’ Forgrun gestured for Bodran to get out the cooking pot and set up the tripod. ‘They do be comin’ from ground, be that?’

Baek shook his head with a knowing smile. ‘If only you would
try
some Aborle food – the flavours are exquisite! We have spices and herbs to make your mouth water. The Aborle tastes are so refined, so subtle. Perhaps too sophisticated for
some
to appreciate…’

‘Nay! – give me red meat,’ Forgrun said, ‘oozing blood an’ juice, before any o’ thy fancy stuff – any day!’

Bodran nodded his approval.

Taem returned with the firewood, set up the beginnings of a fire, and proceeded to rub two sticks together amongst the kindling.

‘Do allow me,’ Forgrun struck a match, and soon had the kindling aflame.

‘Thank you,’ Taem smiled. ‘Now that’s taken care of I can do some practice.’ Taem walked away from the others and drew his sword.

‘Rhungari matches,’ Forgrun said boastfully to Baek, ‘I do nay think ye Aborle can make anything like that.’

Baek scowled, and turned away to watch Taem flowing through the movements of Eagle Gliding on the Wind.

‘Is ye man not be tired enough after a day walkin’?’ Forgrun asked. ‘Nay that I do am, yhee understand.’

‘Of course not,’ Baek grinned, causing Forgrun to frown. ‘Taem is a Master swordsman – but get used to him going training every night at camp. He practices all the time, too much! But he says it helps him focus. He talks about being “one with the sword” – but I think he needs to relax a bit more.’

‘
Focus
?’ Forgrun snorted. ‘What nonsense! But I be admittin’, focused or nay, he be skilled.’

Baek began to stew Forgrun’s beef in the spherical black-iron pot. To Forgrun and Bodran’s disgruntled looks, the Aborle added in the mushrooms as the broth simmered over the campfire. Bodran shook his head in disgust.

‘I think, my Rhungar friend,’ Taem said as he approached, ‘you would be surprised how important training can be.’

‘Aye!’ Forgrun said. ‘But give me a good scrap, any day. Yhee sword may be swift, but my axe has ye power ter smash through anything.’

‘I believe it does.’ Taem said earnestly. ‘But can it parry, block and counter in quick succession?’ Taem demonstrated the moves with his sword as he spoke the words.

‘There be nay need,’ Forgrun scoffed. ‘One blow o’ me war axe,’ the Rhungar reached over his back and patted his weapon, ‘an’ it be all over.’

Bodran nodded his head in agreement.

‘My axe can block,’ Forgrun said, ‘if needs be – but I do prefer attack. May I be seein’ thy weapon?’

Taem hesitated for a moment, and passed the Rhungar his sword so Forgrun could examine it, turning over the hilt to see both sides of the blade.

‘My people be fabled weapon-smiths,’ Forgrun murmured, ‘but never ’ave I seen ye like of this.’ The Rhungar gazed, enchanted, over the blue blade.

‘It was made long ago,’ Taem whispered, ‘before the Great War of the Dark.’

‘What metal is this?’ Forgrun eyed down the smooth curve of the blade.

‘Star metal,’ Taem said softly.

Forgrun’s eyes went wide as he nodded, ‘Tis finest blade I do ever see.’ He handed Taem back his sword, and Taem could see in his eyes that the Rhungar knew more than he was letting on. Bodran stared at the Starblade in disbelief.

‘An’ can I be seein’ yer bow?’ Forgrun said to Baek.

Baek paused in two-minds, but passed the Rhungar his bow.

‘It’s made from Silver Yew,’ Baek said, as Forgrun tested the bow’s flex and nodded.

‘What range?’ Forgrun held the bow at arm’s length, as if he were shooting.

‘Beyond that river,’ Baek pointed to a trickling stream far in the distance.

‘Nay!’

‘Yes,’ Baek said to the Rhungar. And Taem could see, by the eager look on Baek’s face, that the Aborle was pleased that Forgrun was impressed.

‘I be nay thinkin’ Aborle were cap’ble of such craft,’ Forgrun said mockingly.

Taem raised his eyes to heaven. Bodran stifled a laugh behind one of his massive fists.

‘Believe me,
Rhungar,
they are,’ Baek angrily stirred the stew. ‘Come to my forest home and you will see the greatest craft of all, the living workmanship of our immense trees.’

‘Ye use o’
Aborle
magic
?’ Forgrun chortled, and Bodran scoffed. ‘I be not puttin’ much faith in that. I put my trust in steel an’ stone. Ter behold true wonder Baek, yhee must see ye marvellous engineering of ye halls o’ me people. Hewn from ye rock, some chambers do be fittin’ a village inside them – aye, with then some room ter spare.’

‘Cold and lifeless,’ Baek snapped. ‘Nothing compared to my living realm.’

‘Hah!’ Forgrun boomed. ‘Yhee speak of what yhee know nothin’!’

‘As do you!’ Baek yelled.

‘
Son o’ ye Maliven
,’ Forgrun muttered under his breath.

‘What did you say?’ Baek jumped to his feet, hand on his swordhilt.

‘Yhee heard,’ Forgrun said gruffly, but remained seated. ‘Thy ancestors do be traitors ter ye Dark. Men may do forget, but Rhungars do remember.’

‘Take that back you clumsy dim-witted oaf!’ Baek snarled. ‘you know nothing! Your people claim Kaladim, but have no honour! Not all Aborle became Maliven, but your stupid people left mine to die!’

Bodran shot to his feet, fists clenched in anger.

‘And thine betrayed mine!’ Forgrun growled. ‘Rhungars ne’er forget, ne’er forgive!’