Bakhai was startled awake by the noise of the riders. He bolted upright to a crouch and shoved Rejji, wakening him, just as the riders appeared through the trees. Rejji’s eyes popped open and he scanned the campsite. His mind registered that Mistake was still missing, as his eyes locked on the approaching riders, their swords raised high. Rejji rolled to his sword, knowing he would not reach it in time. Just as his fingers wrapped around the hilt, he heard an inhuman scream that sounded like it had come from Bakhai.
Rejji completed his roll and came to a crouch while he tore his blade from its sheath. He looked up and saw the horses high on their hind legs and watched, as if in slow motion, the riders with red scarves tumble to the ground.
“Jiadin!” Rejji shouted as the three men regained their footing,
Rejji saw the fourth rider in the background still atop his horse, but his attention was drawn to the closer three as they charged forward. Rejji saw Bakhai swing at one of the bandits with a large dead branch as he brought his sword up to defend himself from the two bandits descending on him. He crossed swords with one of the men as the other screamed and dropped his sword, his hands going to the dagger, which had pierced his neck, as his knees buckled and his body dropped to the ground.
Mistake, smiled Rejji as the bandit he was fighting lunged at him. Rejji’s mind flashed images of the lessons he had learned with the Zaldoni, and he recognized the moves the bandit was making. He smiled inwardly as planned to utilize what he had learned at Fardale.
He pressed in close to the Jiadin bandit, locking swords for the barest of moments, and then pushed off from the encounter, letting his body fall backwards. As the bandit rushed forward to take advantage of Rejji’s fall, Rejji slammed his feet into the bandit’s ankles and brought his sword up in front of his chest. The Jiadin tumbled forward and Rejji strained to keep the hilt of his own sword from striking his chest as the bandit impaled himself on the blade. Rejji twisted sideways and thrust the dead body away from him.
As Rejji rose and tried to pull his blade from the Jiadin body, he saw the fourth rider pull a dagger out of the side of his horse and throw it back at Mistake. The small thief stepped aside and grabbed the hilt of the thrown knife so quickly that Rejji blinked his eyes and shook his head as if to clear his vision.
“He is getting away,” scowled Mistake as the fourth rider turned and raced away from the campsite.
Rejji looked towards Bakhai and saw the body of a Jiadin with the long branch imbedded in its chest.
“I would rather lose him than one of you,” panted Rejji. “I think we might want to get out of here quickly ourselves.”
Mistake nodded and walked over to one of the bodies and retrieved her dagger from its neck. She wiped the two daggers clean and shoved them back into their sheaths.
“That was mighty fine throwing, Mistake,” Rejji said.
“I missed the one on the horse,” she frowned. “At least he was kind enough to return my dagger. I thought you were going to die when you fell. I am sorry for being so nasty last night.”
“I let myself fall,” smiled Rejji who was happy to have his old Mistake back again. “Tagoro showed it to me in Fardale. It only works when your opponent is overly aggressive as this one was.”
“Hey,” Mistake said as she stood looking at the bandit that Rejji had killed. “This one has gold fringe on his red scarf. Wonder why he is different?”
“He is not different anymore,” commented Rejji. “Whoever he was, he is as dead as the others now.”
“I guess,” offered Mistake as she bent and searched the body for a coin pouch.
“I am afraid I scared our horses away,” interjected Bakhai. “We will never find them.”
“What was that you screamed?” asked Rejji. “I thought you had been pierced by a sword when I heard it.”
“I panicked the horses,” replied Bakhai. “I made them think you were a large cat about to strike. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“Well it saved our lives,” reasoned Rejji. “I never thought I would get my hands on my sword before they struck us down.”
“They will be back,” frowned Mistake. “One rule of the bandits is to never let someone kill one of their own without retaliation. Horses or no horses, we need to be out of here now. That rider will bring back an army.”
“For the three of us?” questioned Rejji. “We were lucky this night. They don’t need an army to kill us.”
“Maybe so,” Mistake said while shaking her head, “but these Jiadin were looking for somebody. They weren’t just passing through. I saw them coming from the ledge you told me about. They were searching for someone and must have thought that’s who we were. The smoke from our fire got them very excited.”
“Well it certainly is not us they are searching for,” retorted Rejji, “but let us get out of here just the same. Perhaps we should stay off the main trail.”
“There are many game trails in these hills,” declared Bakhai. “While I have never been this far north, it is much like the hills I grew up in. Follow me.”
Bakhai led them away from the main trail for quite a ways before paralleling it. The trail was ever upward, but it was fairly good footing. The trees grew sparser as they climbed and the soil gave way to rock. After a few hours, there was no longer a trail, only rock, and they could see the peak towering above them.
Around high sun, they reached the peak. The three Fakarans stopped to rest and admire the view. To the west they could see the forests of the South Fork and even the dry plains in the distance beyond. It was a breathtaking sight for Rejji who had spent his life at sea level. To their north and south, they could see an endless string of peaks reaching off into the horizon. To the east they saw forests and meadows and, in the distance, a vast jungle of dense growth reaching towards the coast. Several hundred feet below them to the north was the main trail where it straddled the pass.
“Look,” pointed Mistake, “there is a village down there to the east. Now we can get some supplies. Too bad those Jiadin bodies didn’t have any extra gold on them; we could have splurged on something.”
“Perhaps they left their pouches on their horses, as I did,” admitted Rejji.
Mistake started to nod her head and then twirled to face Rejji. “You aren’t serious, are you?” she asked.
“Afraid I am,” Rejji said. “I have been afraid I would leave it at a campsite when we left in the morning, so I have been leaving with the horse.”
“Great,” scowled Mistake. “Now that we have found a village we can go begging in the streets.”
“The people will share,” Bakhai said softly. “It is better if we could repay them, but they will not let travelers go hungry. We will survive somehow.”
“We can’t make that distance today or tomorrow,” noted Rejji. “Perhaps the day after though. Will you be able to find it Bakhai?”
“I will find it,” he nodded vigorously. “There is water there and fields of vegetables and grain. The animal trails will lead to it. We will have no problem finding it.”
Bakhai started down the mountains with Rejji and Mistake following closely.
***
The Jiadin soldier ran out onto the platform atop the Temple of Vandegar and halted before Veltar, the advisor to Grulak, leader of the Jiadin.
“Where is Grulak?” the soldier panted. “I was told he was up here. I must speak to him at once.”
“He will be back shortly,” replied Veltar. “What is so urgent?”
“I must speak directly to Grulak,” declared the soldier.
“And so you shall,” smiled Veltar, “after I hear what you have to say. Grulak can not be bothered by every soldier of the army.”
“I am not just a soldier,” stiffened the man. “I am one of Diakles bodyguards. I am sure Grulak will speak to me.”
Veltar nodded as he finally remembered the face he was speaking to. “Ah yes,” he smiled. “So you are. How is the future emperor?”
“He is dead,” the soldier blurted out. “He was killed by the one with the crescent palm. Two others died with him. I must inform Grulak now.”
“Dead?” echoed Veltar. “Where did this happen?”
“Near the pass of the South Fork in the Giaming Mountains,” reported the soldier. “I have notified the army of that region and they are in pursuit of the demon, but Grulak must be told right away. His orders are that he be told directly if something happens to Diakles. I have ridden night and day to get here.”
“I will inform Grulak for you,” smiled Veltar. “You should get some rest. I am sure you will be rewarded for your dedication.”
“No,” straightened the soldier. “I am aware of your prodding of Diakles to hunt this demon. Grulak needs to be aware that his advisor endangered the life of Diakles. Were it not for your promises to Diakles of the fame that would be bestowed upon him for annihilating this foe, we would have gone after him with more than just the four of us. You told him he would be victorious. He believed in you.”
“Perhaps he would have been victorious if his bodyguards had put their lives before his,” sneered Veltar. “How is it that you are still alive?”
Veltar’s hand shot out and seized the soldier by the neck. The soldier brought up both hands in an attempt to free himself from the advisor’s grip, but Veltar lifted the man off his feet and snarled at the dangling soldier before him. The soldier’s mouth opened wide as if to scream, but no sound emerged.
“A coward in the face of the enemy deserves certain death,” Veltar spat as he carried the man to the edge of the platform. “But you are worse than a coward. You seek to endanger my position with your loose tongue and for that you shall suffer a lingering death.”
Veltar’s left hand shot out and seized the soldier’s tongue and ripped it from his mouth. As the soldier’s eyes rolled in his head, Veltar dropped the body at the edge of the platform. The soldier wriggled in pain and Veltar kicked the man’s legs off the platform. His body started to slide off the platform and the soldier quickly grasped the edge as his body dangled below him. Veltar stepped closer and placed his feet on the man’s hands and smiled cruelly down at him.
“I think you would agree that you have no further use for this,” grinned Veltar as he tossed the man’s tongue over the edge. “A pity you felt so duty bound to destroy your own life. A simple report of Diakles’s death would have been sufficient, but now your reward is this. Savor your last few minutes.”
Veltar could feel the man trying to free his fingers from under the advisor’s feet and snickered. He stood watching the dangling form for some minutes until he heard Grulak approaching, then he simply turned and walked to greet the Jiadin leader. The sound of the soldier’s falling body was lost on the wind.
“I have grave news, Sire,” Veltar said as he greeted the approaching leader. “Diakles has fallen in battle.”
“Diakles?” echoed Grulak. “When? How?”
“As was told in my dream,” declared Veltar. “I have said that the one with the crescent palm must be eliminated. Now he has destroyed Diakles.”
Grulak halted and put his arm on Veltar’s shoulder. His head hung low and he shook it from side to side. “I want this demon killed!” he screamed as his head rose. “I want his head. Who is he?”
“His name is Rejji,” consoled Veltar. “There is an army chasing him as we speak. He has another man and a woman in his company and they are traveling east through the South Fork Pass. They shall have him soon if you allow the army to abandon their orders to hunt down the free tribes. This Rejji is a much greater threat to your plans than the tribes are. He must be eliminated as I have urged in the past. If you had listened to me, Diakles would still be with us.”
“Do whatever you want,” shouted Grulak as he spun towards the doorway. “Just get me his head. I am putting you in charge of that army. See that he does not escape.”
Grulak stormed into the building and Veltar turned and walked back to the edge of the platform. He smiled as he gazed down at the people milling around the fallen soldier and looking up. He looked momentarily at his bloody left hand and turned towards the doorway to the temple.
***
“This is more like a town than a village,” Rejji announced as they left the game trail and wound their way through the fields. “It is many times the size of my village.”
“It is large,” agreed Mistake. “Perhaps someone will know where to find the Sage.”
“Perhaps,” replied Rejji, “but remember your pledge, Mistake. We will be thankful for whatever these villagers are willing to share, but we will take nothing they do not freely offer.”
“I will remember,” scowled Mistake. “I do not need to be treated like a child.”
“It is still just a village,” interrupted Bakhai. “Larger than most, but I see no inns or shops. It is just a large village.”
“Let’s split up,” suggested Rejji. “Mistake can seek out information on the Sage, while I try to gain knowledge of the tribes. Bakhai, you can see if there is any need for labor so that we may earn what we need.”
The three Fakarans split up as they entered the large village. Bakhai headed towards the huts that lined the edges of the fields. Mistake saw a large gathering of women husking corn and moved towards them, while Rejji headed straight for the well in the center of the village. Rejji knew that several elderly men would be there to entertain the children and these men would likely know the most about the tribes.
Rejji received a few stares from the local villagers as he made his way down the main street and responded with a smile and friendly nod of his head. The villagers returned the gesture and went about their business. When he reached the well, there were half a dozen old men and a like number of children. Everyone’s attention was on a single old man who was telling a tale of a great dragon and the children reacted with a mixture of dread and excitement.
Rejji went right up to the group and sat on the side so he could see both the men and the children who were facing each other. A few of the men nodded to Rejji and he smiled and returned the nod. He listened to the stories patiently for a while and a woman came over to the group with a basket of food and an urn of goat’s milk. The children squealed with delight as they grabbed pieces of bread and cheese from the basket. The woman produced a cup and filled it with milk and handed it to one of the children. When the little boy had drank the cup dry, he handed it back to the woman and she filled it for another child.
The men waited until the children had grabbed what they wanted and then passed the basket of food to Rejji. Rejji looked inquiringly at the old man as if to ask if it was permissible for him to eat. The storyteller’s face broke into a wide toothless grin and he nodded his head.
“Hunger has a face of it’s own,” he chuckled. “Eat your fill young man. There is more if you finish it.”
“I am most grateful, Sir,” Rejji said. “I fear I have lost any means of repaying you though, unless you will accept my labor.”
“Your offer is acknowledged,” grinned the man. “If you are passing through, then consider it our gift to you. If you wish to stay in the village, there will be time to talk of labors another day.”
“You are most gracious and I thank you,” smiled Rejji. “I am just passing through. I am in search of the Sage of the Mountain and was wondering if there was a great deal of tribal activity in these parts. I am hesitant to be involved in their troubles.”
“The tribes are in turmoil these days,” responded the storyteller. “Our local tribe has quit their fortress and have not been seen for some time. Some say the Jiadin are to take over all of the tribes. Others disagree. We do not get involved in their affairs and hope they meddle little with ours other than the annual tribute. Some Jiadin were here not long ago. They spoke of a demon that has come to our lands and they claim they shall remove him, but many have little belief in demons.”
“Demon or no demon,” added another old man, “the Jiadin have amassed a great army to track him down. They have warned us not to allow the demon into our village or they will kill every single one of us.”
“They may decide to do that one day anyway,” sighed the storyteller. “The tribes need no excuse for violence, and we have no means of defense. Such is life.”
“I passed the site of a great battle on the other side of the mountains,” Rejji informed the storyteller. “The Jiadin destroyed the Chadang tribe. I do not wish to see more of that.”
“Well if you are seeking the Sage of the Mountain,” smiled the storyteller, “you will see little of the Jiadin.”
“You know of the Sage?” Rejji asked excitedly. “Where can he be found?”
“Well I know of him,” nodded the man, “but not where he is. It is a quest of considerable effort to find him. Many speak of him as living high in the Bone Mountains, far to the northeast. Some have searched the mountains their entire life looking for the Sage and have died disappointed. There was a man, however, many years back. He claimed to have found the Sage. He wouldn’t say where though.”
“He was a crazy fool,” interjected another man.
“Of course he was,” nodded the storyteller. “The Sage speaks the truth that no man knows. Many want the answers to questions, but their minds are incapable of accepting those answers. There are many tales of men gone crazy after visiting the Sage. Sometimes the truth is better left unknown.”
“What happened to him?” Rejji asked.
“He was crazy,” sighed the storyteller. “He was searching for the lost city of Angragar. He claims the Sage told him where the ancient city was, but he would not tell anyone. Despite our pleas, one day he wandered into the Qubari Jungle. He was never heard from again.”
“That must be the jungle we saw from the mountains,” surmised Rejji. “What is wrong with going there?”
“Death is what’s wrong,” warned one of the men. “If your are lucky that is.”
The storyteller looked at the man and shook his head. “The lad didn’t say he was going there,” the storyteller stated. “He just asked about it. The Qubari Jungle is a dread place, lad. Nobody has ever gone there and come back. Once you enter, you are just food for the jungle. Every creature in there will devour you. Some even say the plants will eat you alive in there. Whatever you do, stay clear of that jungle if you value your life.”
“Tell him about the tyriks,” prompted one of the children.
The woman with the urn of milk had worked her way down the line of children and handed Rejji a cup of milk. He smiled at her and thanked her.
“The tyriks are a nasty creature,” nodded the storyteller. “As old as time itself, they say. The tyriks have infested the Qubari Jungle forever. Picture a huge nasty spider, lad. Now make it bigger and meaner. Then picture it as large as that hut over there. Can you picture a spider that big? That is a tyrik, lad. Their webs are so large they could capture wasooki or horses in them. Not a pleasant death, being caught in tyrik web and waiting to be chosen for dinner. You might be stuck there for days if the tyrik had eaten recently. Not the way I would choose to go.”
When Rejji turned to look at the hut, he noticed that Bakhai and Mistake had arrived and were listening to the storyteller as well. They also had been offered the basket of food and were eating bread and cheese. Bakhai appeared to be trying to get Rejji’s attention, but Rejji could not figure out what his friend wanted and he refused to be rude to the villagers.
“What is this lost city the stranger was looking for?” quizzed Rejji as he sipped the goat’s milk. “I have never heard of Fakara having any cities.”
“Angragar,” nodded the storyteller. “Well I guess you would not consider it a Fakaran city. Angragar is ancient. It is older than the sacred temple at Vandegar, and both are older than Fakara, much older. Vandegar was a spiritual center, built in the waning days of the old empire. Angragar was the capital city and built much earlier. It was the seat of power for a civilization so ancient that none remember it. Were it not for Vandegar, nobody would believe that Angragar even existed. But it did. There are wall drawings in the Vandegar Temple that depict some of the grand buildings of Angragar.”
“What happened to the ancient civilization?” queried Rejji. “Did it just die out?”
“No,” answered the old storyteller. “Legend has it that an evil ruler came into power and he lusted for conquest. He turned his armies against his old allies and trading partners, the elves.”
“Elves?” squealed one of the children. “I thought there were no elves?”
“There may not be,” continued the storyteller with a smile, “but there was at one time. This ancient ruler was swayed into conflict by the dark forces he swore allegiance to. That is when Vandegar was built, to honor those evil forces. Eventually, the elves had to attack or watch the world be destroyed. The elves swarmed into what is now Fakara and beat back the forces of evil. They destroyed the ancient empire and hid the lost city of Angragar. Nobody has ever found it.”
“You forgot about the caretakers,” nudged one on the old men. “Tell them about the guardians.”
“Very well,” nodded the storyteller. “The elves were to destroy the ancient civilization completely, but they found just a few people who were so good, that the evil had not touched them. They chose these people to be guardians of Angragar. It is their job to make sure nobody ever does find the ancient city. Legend says these ancient dwellers still watch over Angragar and will until the end of time. Should anyone stumble upon the lost city, the guardians will destroy them.”
Bakhai was still trying to get Rejji’s attention and Rejji finally thought he had figured out why. He sipped the last bit of goat’s milk out of the cup, realizing that there was only one cup and he had been holding it the whole time. The woman smiled at him and reached across the children to retrieve the cup. The distance was a bit too far and Rejji placed the cup in his palm and stretched his arm over the heads of the children. The woman took the cup from his hand.
As Rejji watched, the woman screamed and dropped the urn of goat’s milk. The urn shattered spilling milk over the children. Everyone jumped to their feet to see what the trouble was. Bakhai was frantically waving now and Rejji’s attention was torn between Bakhai and the turmoil with the woman, when he heard someone shout, “Demon!”
Everyone started running in every direction and Bakhai grabbed Rejji’s arm and started pulling him.
“Come! Hurry!” shouted Bakhai. “We must run for our lives.”
Rejji was still trying to figure out what was happening when the first rock struck his back.