“Where to now?” said Sorus as he cast a quick glance first to Proteus and then to Jon. “Whitebone knows we’re here and we have no idea where the Staff of Sakatha is hidden.”
“I don’t think Whitebone will bother us for a long while,” said Proteus as he looked back towards the mountain path they came down from moments before. “You’re right about not knowing where to go next though.”
“Why won’t Whitebone bother us?” said Sorus with first a frown and then a smile, “Not that I mind if you’re right!”
“I’ve seen priests do that trick before,” said the square jawed Brokenshield. “They have a one word escape but it takes them back to their home, and I got the distinct impression that Whitebone isn’t from around here. So, he’s a long way away now and that shoulder of his isn’t going to mend easily, even with magic. Jon crushed it to powder; I doubt he’ll ever be completely right again.”
“It was a lucky shot,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders and a narrow smile. “I was angry after what he did to you and Sorus.”
“Lucky you say,” said Proteus with a quick glance at the tall boy, “I don’t think so, but it doesn’t really matter. You saved both Sorus and me from that thing which means I’ll see my children again. That is more than I expected when we started this mission and it also brings me to my next point.”
Jon looked at the hardened warrior and deduced his thoughts, “You’re right Proteus. We’ve already asked too much from you. Go back to the boys and raise them straight and strong.”
“That’s right,” said Sorus who bobbing his head up and down eagerly. “You’ve done more than your share. You go back home and take care of your boys.”
Proteus looked at both of them and bowed his head, “I don’t like to leave you, but I think you’re right. I want to write a letter for you, to First Rider Vipsanius. I want him to know what happened, even if I’m a Brokenshield.”
“You’re not a Brokenshield,” said Sorus suddenly and looked at Proteus who paused for a moment and then realized what the young knight meant.
“You’ll grant me a second name?” he said, pulling his horse up short, and staring at Sorus with a strange grin on his face.
“Your boys are old enough and need to think about squiring or apprenticing in Black Dale anyway. The town needs an assistant brewer to take my place for the rest of the twelve month at least. Pick your second name, take care of the boys, and then report to Thaddeus Redhand in Black Dale for your duties. Is that understood?”
Proteus nodded his head and then raised his right hand and clenched it in the salute of Elekargul, “Thank you, Sir Sorus,” he replied. “I shall take the name Nightwalk both to honor you and because my journey took me into the darkling lands.”
Sorus suddenly blushed bright red and Jon gave out a great guffaw that seemed to release all the tension building since they left great underground complex. When the laughter finally died down, they pulled their horses up and Proteus Nightwalk wrote a short letter with a small feather quill and ink pot that came out of his saddlebag.
“How do you know to carry all that stuff?” said Jon with a shake of his head as a wry grin crossed his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we ran across an enraged buffalo cow and you pulled out a calf to calm her down.”
“It’s a lifetime of military duty my young friends,” said Proteus with a smile and he came over to Jon and hugged the huge boy although his head barely reached Jon’s shoulder. He turned and did the same to Sorus and then mounted his horse. Before he rode off he undid a saddlebag and tossed it to Jon. “Maybe you’ll find something useful in there one of these days! Ride north to the monastery of the Black Horse. They live in the shadows of the Mountains of the Orc and if anyone can give you advice it’s the high priest, a man named Imprilius.” He then spurred his horse and headed home at a gallop.
“Thank you, Sir Proteus,” shouted Sorus to the knight and the young warrior waved his arm for a long time at the slowly receding figure.
After a bit Jon and Sorus turned to each other and smiled, “That’s a good man,” said Jon, a broad smile on his face. “We were most fortunate to run across his farm.”
Sorus nodded, “Lucky is the right word, Jon,” he said. “I think we can just keep heading north along the edge of the mountains and we’ll get to the temple soon enough. I’ve heard of it and I’ve heard people talk about Imprilius before.”
“They say good things, I assume,” said Jon.
Sorus stopped, “You know, I’m not really sure. I think so. Proteus wouldn’t steer us wrong in any case.” With that the two boys turned their horses north and headed forward in the shadow of the mountain.
The next two days went by quickly and the boys didn’t run into anyone, although they managed to replenish their water supply from a few small streams and caught some of the little multicolored trout to supplement their diet of the plentiful wild carrots, onions, and other vegetables that seemed to grow with great abundance along the mountain range. There were also numerous patches of mushrooms, and Sorus carefully schooled Jon as to which ones were safe to eat and which were not.
Late in the afternoon on the second day they spotted a pair of figures as they rode at the same slow pace, and within a few minutes Jon recognized the hugely fat man on the draft horse although he first took his companion for a young boy. It was only when they approached closely that Jon noted the heavy chain shirt of the small rider, the four horseshoe symbol on his shoulders, and the simple slash in the middle. Jon didn’t immediately recognize the symbol but suspected its meaning almost immediately; even before Sorus jumped forom his horse and saluted with a loud, “Hail First Rider!”
Odellius rode up with a broad smile across his face, “I’ll be a four-breasted gnoll whore,” he shouted and rode right up to Jon and gave him a solid smack on the shoulder that almost felled the gray knight.
“It’s good to see you as well, Odellius,” said Jon as he winced and he tried to keep his seat. “First Rider, I am Jon Gray and my father, the Gray Lord sent me to discuss an alliance with you and your people.”
The First Rider looked at Jon carefully, “Odellius did not lie about your size,” he said with a sage nod of his head. “I’ve heard you tried to wrestle the big fellow to the ground.”
Jon smiled broadly, “It seemed to be the only strategy that gave me any chance of victory in the yard. I wouldn’t mind another crack at the old man, this time on a ground of my choosing.”
Vipsanius nodded his head, “It is most fortuitous that we meet like this emissary, Gray,” he said. “Odellius and I are on a quest and I suspect that your father sent you here less to arrange an alliance between our people and more to obtain something from the region.”
Jon looked at the First Rider for a long moment, “I cannot deny that my mission is twofold but believe me when I say that my father strongly desires the friendship of your people.”
The First Rider nodded his head again, “Perhaps we should ride on a bit and look for a place to camp; have you passed any reasonable spots in the last hour or so?”
Sorus nodded his head, “Yes, First Rider, there is a small creek about an hour or so back, it’s up against a defensible cliff.”
“What is your name, young knight?” said the First Rider as he took his horse a few steps closer to the young boy who rode beside Jon.
“I… I am Sorus Nightwalk; Sir Germanius Brokenhand knighted me before a white dragon slew him, although he killed the beast as well.”
“Well, Sir Sorus,” said the First Rider. “The knights of Elekargul are lucky to have such a man as you among our number. Sir Odellius here told me you were just a brewer boy but I’m happy that you’ve joined us. There are responsibilities associated with knighthood that do not fall upon a brewer, I trust you appreciate them.”
“Yes, First Rider,” said Sorus and once again saluted as he sat up as tall as possible in the saddle. He was significantly taller than the First Rider but not nearly as broad as the thick little man.
“Lead the way to this campsite of yours so that Jon and I can discuss both the future of our nations and this secondary quest of his,” said Vipsanius with a wave of his hand towards the south.
An hour and a half later the four made up their camp at the edge of the cliff face where a small stream flowed. Vipsanius sat by the stream, a small pole in one hand, with four trout already caught and on a line in an eddy of the stream. Jon busied himself with the fire while Sorus gathered wood and Odellius got out pots, pans, and various seasonings for the meal to come.
“Boy,” he yelled loudly to no one in particularly but Sorus, fifty yards away, a bundle of limbs in his arms, knew immediately that he was the subject of the bellow, “find some of those bay boleta mushrooms if you can, good with trout they are.”
“What do they look like?” shouted back Sorus as he bent over to pick up a fallen limb of good width.
“Brown little things with white flesh, they turn blue if you cut them,” shouted back Odellius and looked to Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “Kids today.”
“I wouldn’t have known,” said Jon with a smile as the fire roared to life and he piled on kindling. “My father is always telling me to learn as much as I can about any region where I’m staying. He says little things can save your life. Where an animal burrows, what sort of berries are good to eat, how a predator stalks, all those things.”
“True enough,” said Odellius with a nod of his head. “How many of those fish do you have, Vipsanius?” he bellowed out to the sky.
The First Rider looked over his shoulder, “A little respect, Sir Odellius, I am the First Rider after all,” he concluded with a wry smile and a shake of his head.
“Sorry about that,” shouted Odellius as he poured a little oil from a vial into one of his pans, put a wire grill over the fire, and the pan on it. “How many of those fish do you have, First Rider?”
“That’s more like it,” said Vipsanius with a broad smile. “I’ve got four on the line and another one just about ready to take the hook. That means I’ve about enough for you but half as many as we need for all four.”
“You see what I have to put up with,” said Odellius grinning broadly and shaking his head at Jon. “No respect at all and I’m the one cooking.”
Jon smiled, “You might have made the first disrespectful comment,” he said as he lowered his chin and raised his eyebrows. “He is the First Rider after all.”
Odellius gave off a long sigh, “I can see where this is headed. I’ll just start cooking while you stick your nose further up his rear end.”
“I’m not exactly certain I can bend over that far,” said Jon as he looked over Vipsanius and his five feet six inch height. “He is a little fellow.”
“Never underestimate a man because of his appearance, Jon,” said the First Rider. “I’ve killed a lot of men who did that.”
“I believe you,” said Jon, just as Sorus returned with another armload of wood and dumped it by the fire.
“That should be enough for tonight I’d think,” he said. “Come on Odellius, leave those pots long enough to show me what these mushrooms of yours look like. I’m sure Jon and the First Rider have things they want to discuss.”
Odellius nodded his huge head and looked at the pan on the fire that had just began to pop and fizzle. “Watch that oil,” he said to both Jon and Vipsanius. “When it starts to sizzle throw one of the fish on there,” he finished and began to walk towards a small copse of trees with Sorus.
“Not much time,” said Vipsanius to Jon with a glance at the pan. “Come on and help me fillet these fish or Odellius will have our hides.” With that the First Rider went back to the stream and pulled in the line of fish. He and Jon set out to clean each one using sharp little knives made for the purpose and provided by the huge knight earlier.
“This is a lot easier with the right tool,” he said to the First Rider as they finished the first two and tossed them in the pan where the flesh immediately began to crackle and give off a delicious odor. “What sort of tool are you looking for here in Elekargul?” said Vipsanius to Jon as they continued to work at the fish that remained.
“Like I said, First Rider,” started Jon but was interrupted immediately.
“Call me Vipsanius if you will,” he said. “First Rider is more for ceremony and battle. Here in a camp I like to think I can be just a man, for a little while at least.”
“My father talks about that,” said Jon, “about how responsibility can wear a man down. I can see how your system of changing rulers every year has its advantages. I’d think that consistency of rule is important as well. You know in Caparal they elect a new ruler every four years?”
“I know something of Caparal,” said Vipsanius. “The Tales of Yumanar as written by Owondo are well known even this far south.”
“Of course,” said Jon and slapped his forehead. “How could I forget those stories? My older brother used to read them to my sister and me when we were children. The great Yumanar, who left Caparal and saved the Republic. I don’t remember them being particularly political though, mostly high adventure as Yumanar, Owondo, and the others traveled the world.”
“There are some that are more politically orientated than others; the less famous ones are more interesting from that point of view. When Owondo wrote of the different political systems they ran across he often compared it to the Republic of Caparal,” said the First Rider his hand in his chin. “As a boy they were less interesting to me, but as I’ve grown older, I find that they have their nuances on a level beyond adventure and excitement. Perhaps if the Black Horse allows me to grow older I’ll find another aspect to them as well. The stories claim Yumanar wandered for fifty years after he abdicated the throne and restored the republic. That is a long time and a lot of writing.”
“You said earlier not to judge a man by his appearance,” said Jon. “You shouldn’t judge one by his age either. I know I’m only seventeen but my father taught me to lead and to rule from even before I can remember.”
“I’m not judging you, Jon,” said the First Rider. “That being said, you are only seventeen and there is only one way to gain experience. It is good your father has sent you on this long journey, and if you survive I’m sure you will prove an able leader in Tanelorn. However, I am not particularly interested in your future as a leader. I am interested in my current rule and I think you are here for something besides making alliances. Tell me now.”
“The Staff of Sakatha,” said Jon as he looked down at the First Rider.
Vipsanius nodded his head, “You want to collect it for Tanelorn?”
“That’s right,” said Jon, “but not to use it. My father wants to keep the most powerful items of the Old Empire out of the hands of those who would use them for their own ends.”
“What if I wanted it?” said Vipsanius. “What if I promised to use it for good, to help both of our nations, to free people, to conquer the Dorians and make them a free nations, to conquer the orcs of Adas Jdar, to defeat the insect men, what if I promised all of those things?”
Jon sat silently for a moment with the knife in one hand and a half-finished fish on the rock in front of him, “My father says that the relics cloud the mind and that no one, not even with the best intentions can use them for good. He thinks that the gods, well, he doesn’t think of them as gods, just powerful creatures left over from the Old Empire now posing as gods, he thinks they warp the minds of all people and that the only chance a freedom loving nation has is to remove their influence.”
“What was that?” said Odellius as he suddenly appeared with Sorus in tow. They held a small cloth sacking bulging with round little mushrooms. “That the gods are really not gods at all?”
“Odellius,” said the First Rider, “Jon and I are discussing matters of state.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt First Rider,” said the huge man. “It’s just that what Jon says sounds like something Imprilius told me after you went to bed the other night.”
“We can discuss that at another time,” said Vipsanius and looked up to the massive knight, “for now Jon and I need to talk about this Staff of Sakatha. You and Sorus work on dinner while we finish our conversation.”
“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius, clenched his fist in a salute, and went over to the fire to examine the fish. He immediately pulled a spatula from a leather wrap which contained a number of utensils and flipped the little fish over with practiced ease. “Bring those mushrooms, boy, we want to saute them in this little pan here.”
“So your father plans to destroy the staff?” said Vipsanius, a small frown on his face. “I’m not sure I approve of that, but I can see where it might be best to destroy them entirely rather than let them do evil.”
Jon paused for a moment and said nothing.
“Go on,” said the First Rider and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder with a little pat.
“My father,” started Jon, “you have to understand I don’t necessarily agree with everything he says, my father isn’t certain about the entire concept of good and evil. If you, as leader of Elekargul do something like destroy the insect men, or conquer Adas Jdar in the name of freedom, isn’t that evil from the point of view of those nations? Likewise, if the reptile men of Darag’dal were to obtain the Staff of Sakatha and wage a terrible war of conquest wouldn’t that be in their own best interests?”
“What is good for me is evil for someone else,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head.
“I suppose that’s the concept,” said Jon with a shrug. “I’m not sure I totally agree with it, and my brother Val and he fight all the time about just that. But, to answer your question, my father doesn’t plan to destroy the Staff of Sakatha or any other relic of the Old Empire. He thinks that’s as bad as using them for your own ends.”
“What does he plan to do with it then?” said Vipsanius as his hand came to his chin. “It seems you either use it or destroy it and hope that your intentions are for the best.”
“My father doesn’t think anyone’s intentions are for the best when it comes to those old relics. He thinks these creatures, gods as we call them, created the relics during the Old Empire and that they warp anyone who owns one of them to their will,” said Jon. “I’ve held some of them,” went on the boy and his eyes became distant and he clasped his hands and ran his thumb over his fingers. “I think there is something to that idea.”
“You’ve held relics of the Old Empire,” asked the First Rider, and Odellius paused for a moment to listen closely to the conversation.
Jon nodded his head, “My father means to hold them, keep them away from those who would use them and be manipulated by the ancient powers,” he said. “I’m not sure it’s possible but that is the plan.”
“Wouldn’t the gods, or these creatures, however you want to describe them, simply manipulate their allies to come to Tanelorn and take them by force,” said the First Rider with a glance to Odellius and Sorus who immediately began to work on the food again.
“That’s what my brother says,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “My father thinks… well, I’m not sure what my father thinks about that. He starts using big words and philosophy and I get a little lost. My father thinks it’s important to let people act on their own, with as little influence on their minds as possible, and removing the relics is the best, if not perfect, way to achieve this.”
The First Rider nodded his head. “Does your father plan to kill the gods?”
Odellius suddenly gave a start and Vipsanius looked over at him, “Yes, Odellius, I’ve spoken with Imprilius on this subject as well, don’t be so surprised.”
Odellius laughed, “I’ll toss some of those poison mushrooms Sorus picked into your portion, not enough to kill you but you’ll have a bellyache in the morning and for a day or so.”
The First Rider laughed, “Fair enough, Odellius; now Jon, does your father plan to kill the gods?”
Jon shook his head, “I’m not really certain. He and my brother talk about things like that a lot, but I’m not always included in the conversation. I think my father wouldn’t mind if the gods just left or died or whatever but I don’t think he wants to participate actively in such a thing. I could be wrong about that.”
“It sounds like your father just wants to sit back and do nothing and take no responsibility,” said Odellius suddenly standing up and coming over to the two. “I don’t mean to interrupt, First Rider, but dinner is ready and I’m beginning not to like your father so much.”
Jon nodded his head yet again, “That’s what a lot of the younger knights say,” he said with a shrug. “They think we need to take a more active role in the world, not just sit back and wait for events to overtake us. You should hear him argue with the druids and the younger knights about invading the Rock Lord’s lands and destroying them once and for all.”
“The Rock Lord?” said Odellius.
“Enough,” said Vipsanius, “the smell of that sauce is enticing and these are matters that cannot be settled over a fireside conversation. Your father is the Gray Lord and I am the First Rider. You’ve been honest with me, Jon and when I come to a decision about what to do if we find the Staff of Sakatha and recover it I’ll be honest with you. In the meantime the food is getting cold,” he concluded with a smile, stood up, and walked over to the fire where plates of fish and mushrooms awaited.