A Whisper After Midnight (41 page)

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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: A Whisper After Midnight
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“Provided your calculations are correct and there is no additional conflict along the route. There are too many variables to risk docking every night.”

“Death is great risk,” added the captain.

Anienam smiled, the sight of shark stalking prey. “Indeed it is. Sometimes it is most necessary. Captain, if you would allow me a moment to confer with my friend here I believe I can help see your point of view.”

The captain dismissed them both with a curt wave.

“He’s going to be the first one I kill when they betray us, wizard,” Bahr threatened. “What game are you playing at?”

“No games, not this time,” Anienam said with a sly grin.

“I don’t like this. We have come too far to be waylaid by bandits. Boen has the right of it. We should kill them now and take the barge before they lead us into a trap.”

“Killing them wouldn’t solve any of our problems, Bahr. They will have scouts and spies staked out the entire length of the river looking for such. If we kill them now we’d make ourselves targets for every tribe of bandit or worse from here to Brodein. Prudence, Bahr. We must be cautious when dealing with these people.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Perhaps they need to learn respect from us.”

“Killing them won’t accomplish anything. Our quest is to save Malweir, not defeat a band of petty river pirates.”

Bahr closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, deep breath. “I’m beginning not to like you, Anienam.”

“It comes with my job.”

“Which is what exactly? And what is this business about keeping your powers secret? You’re known the world over. Do you truly expect the river Men not to recognize you simply because you didn’t perform a spell?” Bahr accused.

Anienam’s heart clutched. He looked about to ensure no one overheard them. “This is not the time for me to reveal my true identity. If, as you say, they are going to betray us, any use of my abilities will only give them opportunity to develop their plans to counter me. I can’t afford the risk.”

“How can this rabble countermand a wizard?” Bahr asked.

“Magic is fickle at best. There are many old cultures with variants I have no defense against. Precisely the reason I need to use caution. Small tribes like these river Men have had shamans and soothsayers long before the Mages rose. Their magic could be more powerful and from means I have no knowledge of.”

“You’re telling me the last descendant of the Mages can’t fight off a handful of near primitive tribesmen? Why did you come along?” Bahr demanded, casually ignoring all of the assistance Anienam had given since first arriving on his doorstep that night, on what seemed a lifetime ago.

If he took offense, Anienam was careful not to show it. He knew their quest went beyond the simple pandering to an old sea captain’s ego. Friends weren’t necessary for victory. He was the legacy of all who had come before. When Anienam died so too would magic, unless he managed to cultivate Skuld into an appropriate apprentice.

“Bahr, you must remember that we are but one small part of this world. These people have no idea what is coming nor would they be inclined to give us safe passage if they did. People are creatures of habit and culture. They will not change just because a strange old Man in tattered robes suggests the end of the world is upon them. You aren’t thinking rationally. Malweir has enough enemies in wait for us; it doesn’t make sense to add more.”

Bahr pointed a finger at the old Man. “I don’t recall anyone asking my opinion about trying to save the world. I’m a washed-up seafarer with no boat, no home, or family. You came to me asking for help, not the other way around.”

“I came to you because I had to!” Anienam snapped, finally allowing anger to take control. “Don’t mistake my acquiescence for kindness. You are a vital part in all of this, the hinge to success or failure. My task is to keep you alive for as long as possible.”

Bahr stood in shock. He was many things: scoundrel, womanizer, disgruntled brother, but he’d never been important to anyone until now. The idea was anathema. He didn’t need to be important. Didn’t want it. All he wanted was a strong boat beneath his feet and the freedom of the open sky. Accepting his worth for all Malweir seemed wrong.

Anienam relaxed. His features softened back into the kind old Man he preferred to assume. “Fighting won’t solve anything. Let the river Men think they are in control. Should they turn on us you and the others will be ready to react. I don’t trust them either, if that helps any.”

“Only if they don’t sell us out.”

Bahr turned and called to the captain.

 

THIRTY-NINE

Ionascu’s Venom

The frozen plains gradually gave way to scrub grass and sand. Temperatures rose in the same manner. It wasn’t long before they abandoned their winter cloaks and furs. Rekka’s mood changed almost at once. She’d never been exposed to the cold before and was immeasurably glad to be done with it. Soon enough she’d be back in the humid jungle, a more harsh and dangerous environment than the frozen north.

Normally she spent hours a day in deep meditation. The dream masters of Teng taught calming techniques to counter the intensity of the training. It took her years to learn, forget about mastering, the skills she’d need for the rest of her life. However long that should be. Her conversation with Boen left her shaken. The longer the quest lasted the more she felt impending doom bearing down on her. Death offered no promise for the likes of Rekka. Her life was a dedication to mortal suffering with the hopes of eternal enlightenment. Still, there’d been too many close encounters to keep her mind at ease.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t seem like herself,” Nothol commented quietly.

He and Dorl sat at the edge of the barge, watching the waters rush by, or maybe it was the barge moving. They’d already been on the water long enough to grow confused. Dorl had hoped to avoid being on water again, especially after their time on
Bane
. Although he had to admit the probability of finding a corpse on deck was heavily reduced.

Dorl looked at Rekka with the strange combination of longing and fear. Their relationship was a dream, more than likely incapable of surviving the trials to come, certainly not the after effects if any of them lived. She belonged to a mystic cult from a foreign land with little to nothing in common with the northern sell sword. His heart was confused. As much as he wanted to sit with her in his arms and watch the world race by he knew destiny demanded otherwise. Men like him weren’t supposed to have easy, normal lives. They just weren’t. Dorl sighed in frustration.

“Who is?” he replied. “Nothing has gone right from the moment we left Stouds at the end of autumn. The closer we get to this Hamr the more I can’t help but feel like the pieces are being moved to block us. Do you think we can win?”

“I don’t even know who we’re fighting,” he answered and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re sounding like a lovesick puppy lately. I think she’s got your balls in her pocket.”

“Don’t worry about my balls,” Dorl said and frowned.

Nothol broke out laughing and was rewarded with a halfhearted punch to his left shoulder. “Why don’t you go to her?”

“And say what?”

Nothol thought for a moment. “Good point. What is to say? We’re so far out of our element up feels like down. It’s not too late to turn back.”

“Yes it damned well is and you know it,” Dorl said. “We’re in this for the haul. Although a nice fire with good food and cold beer wouldn’t hurt. Those Dwarves know how to eat.”

Rubbing his stomach in thought, Nothol agreed. “Best cooking I’ve had in a long while. Maybe Ironfoot can cook?”

“Anything has to be better than the combinations Boen puts together. I had the shits for a full day the last time he cooked,” Dorl said.

Their easy laughter spread through the others. Tensions were high, and with good reason. Hunted and alone, no one knew whether they’d live or die.

“Maybe you’re right,” Nothol finally gave in. “This is getting too dangerous. We’re not heroes, Dorl. I know that, but I can’t help feeling like a part of something special. Wouldn’t it be nice to have people remember our deeds a hundred years from now?”

Dorl scowled. “That implies we’re going to survive. What happens if we’re dead and wasted away without anyone ever knowing? The stakes are too high.”

“Anything worth fighting for usually is,” Nothol replied. “This is war, Dorl. If half of what Anienam says is true there’s no place for us to run that won’t be affected.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve bought in to it?”

“Bought in to what? We’re doing a good deed here,” Nothol defended.

Dorl shook his head ruefully. “What makes you think we can take on gods and win?”

“What makes you think we can’t?”

Dorl Theed had no answer. He’d never felt smaller, more insignificant. The sell sword didn’t belong in this tale. He knew it. He was a simple Man with few interests. Finding Rekka was a fluke, one he hoped to cultivate into something meaningful. He doubted she was ready or able to give up a lifetime of training and dedication to a singular purpose for the sake of love. Still, he wasn’t willing to give up. His heart finally felt content, leaving him prone to rash decisions and worse.

He’d known his share of women, never bothering to constrict himself with only one. Dorl believed there was a time and place for love, but he hadn’t discovered his own yet. At least, not until he met Rekka. Thoughts of her plagued him, stealing his focus from the task at hand. His prowess in battle lessened and made him more liability than asset. One day Dorl knew he’d put the others in jeopardy. Whether unintentional or through ignorance, his inability to concentrate was more than likely going to get one of them killed. He couldn’t live with that.

Dorl recognized the best action would be to abandon his relationship and turn his back. Knowing and being able to do that were two opposite ideations. He’d never felt more strongly about anyone and had no intentions of giving up on what might be a promising future. Old doubts lingered. Questions that never should have been asked swirled in his mind. Stay or go? Should he leave his friends to their fate out of selfishness or struggle on to whatever end the Fates decreed? He hung his head, overwhelmed.

“It’s not death I fear,” he said after long moments of listening to the frigid waters lap against the barge. “You and I have both seen enough to be inoculated. What I fear is obscurity. Falling into an abyss from which there will be no escape. I don’t want to die for reasons I don’t fully believe in.”

Nothol nodded understanding and placed his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Our lives have never been easy, though they’ve certainly been more comfortable than this. We come from a hard land where making difficult decisions is the way of life. How many times have we been stuck in situations we had no reason being in?”

“I hear what you’re saying and it makes sense, to an extent, but I don’t feel it in my heart, Nothol. It’s like, I don’t know, being stuck on the edge of cliff without knowing whether to turn about or plunge downward.”

“Sometimes the heart lacks clarity,” Nothol replied.

“You sound like my mother.”

“You’re acting like mine. Snap out of it, Dorl. I need you to stay frosty. You’ve had my back through a hundred shitty situations and I need it one more time. Go cry to your girlfriend tonight and come back the Man you used to be in the morning,” Nothol admonished.

Dorl’s jaw tightened as he contemplated punching his best friend. The barge gradually began to shove towards the near shore just as the sun was setting. Golden-pink light riddled the grey skies, offering rare glimpses of hope. The already weary band took heart. They’d been through so much hardship and toil it was all they could do to get up in the morning and carry on. Dorl’s attitudes ran through them with varying degrees. Only through Bahr’s steadfastness did they keep pushing, keep driving south towards Trennaron.

“We’re putting in for the night,” Bahr announced as he came back from the bow. “The river Men say it’s too dangerous to keep on.” His voice lowered. “This doesn’t feel right. I want guards posted throughout the night. Otherwise we might just awake to our throats being slit.”

“Be a lot easier if you just let me get rid of them now,” Boen said, continuing his earlier arguments. “I don’t like having to watch my back for no reason.”

“We’re not having this discussion again,” Bahr said firmly. “This is their barge and they know the river far better than any of us.”

The Gaimosian snorted but stayed quiet. His mood quickly infected the others.

“You’re too trusting,” Dorl added, uncharacteristically. “Can’t we use Anienam to help us out?”

The wizard suppressed his frown. “It doesn’t work that way. Without a proper threat I don’t have a target to channel my energies. Besides, any use of power will only alert our enemies to our whereabouts. Trennaron is still very far away. We need to maintain as low of a profile as possible if we’re to find success.”

“You would think having a Giant along would be enough of a deterrent,” Nothol said. “I damned sure wouldn’t try us.”

“Unfortunately you’ve got a little more sense than most,” Bahr added. “Establish the roster as soon as we dock and get some rest. I have a feeling these river Men are going to give us a few surprises before we arrive at our destination.”

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