To Be Chosen (6 page)

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Authors: John Buttrick

BOOK: To Be Chosen
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A quarter of a mark later Daniel noticed two men, unshaven, on foot, coming from the east. Their clothes were stained, torn, and ragged, as if they had been on the road for a long time. The one on the right, limping along, was a tall man, taller than Daniel, and broad in the shoulders. His uniform looked familiar. The patches of rank had been torn off. His coat and trousers were lime green, and his boots scuffed. His dark hair and eyes matched Daniel’s own, but the man had a wide beak of a nose. His hat was straw and looked to be poorly made. A knife sheathed in his sword belt seemed to be the only protection because the sword was missing
and his companion was unarmed.

The other man, shambling along beside him, was a hand shorter, lean, and had thick dark hair on the sides and back of his head and was bald on top. His scalp was red from the sun and was peeling along with the skin of his nose. His coat and trousers were brown wool and seemed to be tailor-made but were every bit as ragged as that of his friend. His shirt was white silk with a touch of lace at the cuffs. The heel of his left shoe was flapping with every step he took. It was clear he and his friend were in a bad way.

Daniel knew he had seen at least one of these men before but could not immediately place him, a consequence of no longer having total recall. David noticed them and stood up. The two men shambled and limped to the spot in the road closest to the camp and came to a stop.

“May we share the fire?” the bald man inquired in a dignified voice.

David looked to Daniel, who nodded his approval, and set the guitarn aside. These men clearly needed rest and Daniel knew he had plenty of water and more than enough food to spare.

“Come join us,” the Teki called to them.

The men came forward. The shambling one came smiling with eyes wide, clearly pleased by the response. The limping one came with one hand on the hilt of his knife, neither smiling nor frowning, and a no nonsense expression that showed him to be a cautious man.

Daniel placed a low level shield on David who glanced at him wide-eyed at suddenly noticing the temperature difference. The outside elements no longer affected him. He nodded his head, removed his hand from the inside of his coat where it had likely been resting on the hilt of a throwing blade, and then turned back to the approaching men with a broad false smile only a Teki performer could pull
off convincingly.

“Gentlemen, come sit by our fire. We have bread and water to spare and might even have some fresh meat in about a quarter of a mark,” David invited in a powerful voice, one that would carry into the forest and be heard by Silvia if she was not too far away.

“We thank you for the generosity. I am Jared Benfyllon, former account keeper to Lord Payden Sharmine of Keffer Greens. And my friend here is Marcus Bower, former chief of the Men-at-arms of the Keffer Greens estate,” the bald man made the introductions, and then sat down.

Marcus winced as he lowered himself to the ground. “My thanks as well,” he said while Daniel handed him a canteen. The man took a drink and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the liquid coolness running down his throat.

Daniel focused on Jared, who was drinking from a cup given to him by David. The memory came back. The man in green was with the arrogant lord who had been denied entrance into Aakadon. Daniel remembered seeing twenty men-at-arms with the lord but had not noticed the man in brown. There had been many people gathered at the gate and Daniel had been rather busy at the moment and exhausted after defeating Balen Tamm, smashing the headquarters of the Serpent Guild, and capturing Serin Gell.

“You seem to have fallen on hard times,” Daniel said while leaning forward.

Marcus did not speak, being involved with chewing on the bread David gave to him. Jared stopped chewing, swallowed, and looked Daniel in the eye. “Oh, you have no idea. Lord Sharmine dismissed us and we were left to fend for ourselves. No horses, no food, no water, and no coins. We just kept going west and here we are. Thieves attacked us but Marcus drove them off. A Condemned jumped us two nights ago, Marcus killed it, and that is when his leg was injured. Tell me, do you know if the scratch of a Condemned can cause a healthy person to be Condemned as well?”

David looked to Daniel as if to say, “This is your area of exper
tise,” which it was in a sense.

“Who might you be?” Marcus inquired after swallowing his bread and washing it down with a swig from the canteen. “A Teki and a mountaineer in a fine coat is a rare combination of traveling companions.”

“I am David Gerabolli, juggler for the Forager Troop of the Reshashinni Teki and you are in the presence of Daniel Benhannon, Chosen Vessel of the Creator. Know that it is by his sufferance that you sit with us,” the Teki proclaimed.

Daniel wished the Teki as a people were not so fond of making proclamations and David in particular. It made the situation awkward. Both of the travelers were now staring at him, but they did not seem surprised. The pictures; these men had to have seen them and heard all of the tales. It was likely Jared’s earlier wide-eyed expression came because he recognized who he was about to share a fire with. Marcus was the type to be cautious no matter whom h
e approached on the open road.

“We recognized you from the start,” Marcus admitted. “Not as the Chosen Vessel, although I’m not surprised to hear that label tacked onto your name as well. I know you are the hero of the Battle of Bashierwood, conqueror of Balen Tamm, and a powerful Accomplished.”

“Our former professions call for a certain amount of discretion. We did not know if you wanted your identity known so Marcus gave you the opportunity to give whatever name you chose. We would have accepted it, respecting your anonymity,” Jared explained.

“No, a person cannot turn into a Condemned by being bitten or scratched by one, but there is danger of infection,” Daniel replied.

Marcus actually smiled, a little, just a crack. “I admit to being more than a trifle worried about that,” he said and then stared into the fire the way a man sometimes does when he broaches a delicate subject and does not want to look anyone in the eye. “It is said that you have been Silenced by the Grand Maestro,” he mentioned while rubbing his leg.

Jared frowned at the former chief as if not believing the man dared bring up the fact.

“That report is true,” Daniel replied. “Even so, maybe you should let me take a look at your wound. We mountaineers have enough knowledge of plants and poultices that I could do you some good.”

Marcus nodded and stripped to his shorts. The gash started just above the knee where the trousers had been torn and continued half way down his lower leg. The cut was not deep but it was puffy and full of infection. If not treated soon, Marcus would lose the leg, if not treated at all, he would die. Daniel turned and searched his saddle bags, looking for something that would pass as an ointment, but found nothing. Since discovering his ability to summon potential and being taught to focus it, he no longer carried things associated with healing or the tending of wounds.

“I have some aloasious ointment,” David volunteered.

Of course, Daniel smiled at the juggler. The Teki people had many ointments for healing. “Please, get it quickly,” he told him.

David went to his saddlebag, removed a small jar and several strips of white cloth, and brought them to Daniel. The Teki winked; likely he realized what Daniel had in mind.

“Healing is far from my field of expertise, but I think that substance is for minor scratches and burns,” Jared commented, and he was correct but that did not matter.

“Aloasious is also good for infections and it helps to ease the pain,” David told him with such conviction Daniel would have believed him had he not known better.

Daniel rubbed the ointment along the wounded area with one hand while placing the white cloth with the other. He was also casting the spell, Make Well, and focusing the potential through the hand applying ointment into the wound. The infection was eliminated, the healing was immediate, and he had the strip of cloth in place quickly enough to keep the others from seeing the results. He wrapped the area in a cloth, binding the strip to the leg and Marcus let
out a sigh of relief.

“The Teki is right, the pain is gone,” said the former chief. “You both have my sincere gratitude,” he added and then put his trousers back on.

David took the jar of ointment and gestured with it toward Jared. “I can rub some onto your head. That burn looks painful,” he offered.

“It would be most appreciated,” Jared replied and leaned toward the Teki.

David applied the aloasious in a gentle circular motion. There was no instant healing with that but the natural properties of the ointment were adequate for the account keeper’s needs. He leaned back with a sigh of relief, thanking the Teki and Daniel even though he had nothing to do with it. David deserved whatever gratitude was earned.

Jared sat with both legs stretched out in front of him and the heel of his left shoe hanging down, exposing his sock, which had holes in the dark fabric. The man could not be left in such a state, Daniel wanted to do something to help, but decided it was not necessary for him to summon potential to fix this problem. He went to his saddle bag and brought two items he never thought he would ever consider parting with, and gave them to the former account keeper. Ruth’s word came back to him, “Walk away, stand and watch, or take action,” well he chose action, but only because it was the right thing to do.

“Why thank you,” Jared said and then paused as if unsure of how to proceed. “M-lord. This is very kind of you,” he finished while trying on the rawhide boots.

“Think nothing of it,” Daniel replied. “It was the neighborly thing to do. For the record, I’m not a lord so feel free to use my first name.”

The former account keeper nodded acknowledgement and gingerly lowered the straw hat onto his sunburned head. The wide-brimmed hat fit him well enough, better than the boots, Daniel’s feet were bigger; the man would need to stuff something soft in front of his toes to wear them properly.

Silvia returned just as Jared was walking back and forth, trying out his new footwear. She had three rabbits, one in each hand and the last hanging from her belt. This was more meat than three people needed. She must have heard David. She confirmed this by saying, “I would have been back sooner but it suddenly occurred to me that we might need two more rabbits.”

Jared and Marcus stared hungrily, licking their lips at the approach of what promised to be good eating. Daniel knew how to field dress a kill since early childhood but allowed Silvia and David to prepare the meal, which took little time with two of them doing the skinning and gutting. Before long, all three rabbits were turning on spits over the fire, and everyone was gathered in a circle.

“You heard me?” David spoke in a soft voice.

Silvia cracked a smile. “No one ever said the Gerabolli have weak lungs. You might make master-of-the-ring some day.”

David looked at her sideways, as if examining each word for an insult, finding none he smiled and said, “Perhaps, but there is another designation I would rather have.”

“What might that be?” she inquired.

“Your husband,” he replied evenly.

Silvia pursed her lips thoughtfully, not long ago she was giving him thunder about presuming she wanted him. “Perhaps?” was all she said, without even gesturing with her arms, and with a far better response than her suitor expected.

Daniel admitted to himself he was a little surprised by the change in attitude. It was clear to him the Teki woman was not completely against marrying this particular young man, she was keeping an open mind on the prospect, yet not quite ready to accept him. Jared had some convincing to do but at least he now knew he had a chance with her. The juggler nodded his head and went on to speak of the Great Carnival.

Daniel, Silvia, and David shared a rabbit, Jared and Marcus each had one. The former chief of the men-at-arms must have spent his career guarding the estate and having his meals prepared for him. The same was probably true for the former account keeper. With no food, no money, and no skill at living off the land, they likely ate very little since leaving the employ of their former lord.

“Our troop visited Keffer Greens three years ago,” Silvia began to say. “Even with the rank and insignias gone, I recognize the uniform of their men-at-arms. How came you to be so far from home a
nd in such dire circumstances?”

Daniel remembered that Keffer Greens was in the far northwest corner of the kingdom. It was a major port city on the inland
Taltin Sea, which shared borders with Ducaun and its neighbor to the west, Battencay, the northwestern kingdom of Fon Kay, and the northern kingdom of Pentrosa. The ovoid shaped sea was about nine hundred spans wide and slightly over three hundred spans from its southern most point in Battencay and its northern most point in Fon Kay. The vast majority of the sea coast belonged to those two kingdoms with Ducaun and Pentrosa controlling the eastern side to about a hundred spans out.

Jared hesitated, but Marcus seeing this, spoke up. “I’ll tell you. Lord Sharmine dismissed us because we witnessed his humiliation at the gates of Aakadon. The moment we entered the city of
Zane, he hired new men-at-arms and left behind the twenty of us who had accompanied him, twenty-one men, if you include his account keeper.”

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