fate's pawn 13 not quite cliffie weekend bonus

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 The Darkling merchant could not believe her eyes.

“You killed him,” she said.

“Yes; and your trógling are forfeit,” said Kaz. “But mark me, you trógling; if you want to stay with your mistress, I will not prevent it. If you have affection for her, or if you prefer the familiar to freedom, and having to take responsibilities for yourself, then I ask that she treat you with honour for having chosen her service.”

The six trógling were huddled together, staring at Kaz with a kind of horrified fascination.

One of them ran forward to bow to Kaz.

“Mistress,” he said.

“Just Kaz,” said Kaz. “Go to my friends. Trader Hraazaz was just leaving.”

The Darkling gave an order and the dead Toróg was rapidly stripped of his armour, which was added to the baggage train.

“I will not forget you, Kaz of Alethos,” said Hraakaz.

“I’m memorable,” said Kaz. “But one day, you might be pleased that we part on civil terms; I don’t care enough about Toróg to make you my enemy. But I do care to make Selen and Daze my enemies. And to work towards freeing my kind. But I will never force freedom on them.”

“I hope we never meet again,” said Hraazaz.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Kaz.

The traders passed on into the night, and Kaz, with a whoosh of relief, joined her fellows.

 

 

“You idiot, you cast a splint spell, I can’t heal you until tomorrow!” growled Svargia.

“It was a compromise; I cast with all my magical strength to have a sharp blade and to enhance my parry, leaving enough to stop me bleeding out if need be,” said Kaz. “I’ve gone days with a broken arm before, I’ll manage.”

“What possessed you to take it all on yourself?” demanded Protasion.

“I have an enemy but an enemy who gives me respect and might be a reluctant ally,” said Kaz. “She heard my words. Why should we have to kill a trading party? Just because we might be able to do so, doesn’t mean we should always seek combat all the time against everyone. Can you organise a watch? I want to sleep and I’d be very grateful for an Alathan-shaped pillow.”

Alathan lay down beside her, and cradled her carefully.

“You could remove the splint spell and heal her, I believe,” said Lelyn.

“I could. But should I?” said Alathan.

“He should not. He is not here to play nursemaid to me but to train me. Making a compromise is part of the training,” said Kaz.

“You see, she answers you,” said Alathan.

Lelyn sighed.

“She could make more use of you.”

“And if she did, she would mean less to me,” said Alathan. “I am proud of Kaz’s strength and determination to learn. Would you have me diminish her by treating her as fragile? Would you wish your mother and father to step in and stop you doing anything dangerous? How would you grow?”

“I... I see. I’m sorry,” said Lelyn. “I had not considered it like that.”

“But you will, now.”

“I will.

 

In the morning, Alathan ruffled Kaz’s growing hair.

“I’ll be leaving you all now,” he said.

“I’ll miss you,” said Kaz.

“And I will miss you, but I have things I need to do.”

“Of course.”

He brushed his lips across her brow, and turned to go.

“Look here... sir,” said Protasion, “Appreciating that you are more than you try to seem, and that you have duties, it’s not fair on Kaz to play with her like this. If you’re going to mess her about, just tell her that you have no long-term plans which involve her, and stop playing games.”

“Ah, Protasion, if you only knew,” said Alathan. “My plans for Kaz are long term. But she understands how it must be; we all have our duty. I honour you for having the courage to speak up for your friend. I will not forget such loyalty.”

“You are leaving while she is wounded?”

“Well, Protasion, she is your leader, but does she do her leading or her planning with her arm?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you are her arm whilst she heals.”

 

oOoOo

 

 

Kaz was relieved to have Svargia heal her broken arm when the splint cantrip wore off.

“That feels better,” she said.

“It was a good choice whilst in combat; that bone was in several pieces, and a healing would have been complex,” said Svargia. “Though I’m glad we haven’t had to use the silver star and your healing ritual. I never met a Greater Toróg before, and I’m not in a hurry to do so again.”

“They are violent, vicious, and stupid,” said Kaz. “They are essentially slaves as much as trógling are, and many of them belong to High Toróg priestesses.”

“Or priests?”

“No, males are not permitted. Males do not own property either unless they are initiates or glyph-levels of Tor. And if an initiate is married to a priestess, she would not let him own anything anyway. I did not ask the name of our new acquisition.”

“Zon, lady,” said the new trógling.

“Good, Evgon will find you decent clothing,” said Kaz.

“Why me?” said Evgon.

“You volunteered to be quartermaster,” said Kaz.

“Oh. Yes, so I did,” said Evgon. “I did get extra clothing, as you suggested, though I wasn’t expecting to need it so soon..”

“Nothing left on the Toróg worth saving, after all,” said Kaz. “But I won’t travel with my people inadequately dressed;  and if you need more, you can go on into the next village with Rynn to purchase some, I believe we still have some moneys left from that allotted to us, as we saved some by camping a few times.”

“Ample,” said Evgon. “I shall; I got enough for one more trógling, and some of it is a bit girly.”

He took Rynn, and returned with some used, but serviceable clothes for Zon, and a blanket as well as a cloak.

Zon knelt and kissed his hands, and Kaz’s hands too.

“None of that!” said Kaz, roughly. “You’re a free man, and in my service, and therefore it’s my responsibility to kit you out.”

 

oOoOo

 

“We could camp by the river and fish, so we have enough to kit out the two new ones properly, in avoiding paying for inns,” said Svargia.

“If you know how to fish, I’m all for it,” said Kaz. “We should try to provide them with basic weapons and armour. I’ve got some monies left from my pay for collecting the seer, but it won’t go far.”

“This is why Adventurers go looking for loot,” said Svargia, cynically. “Well, actually, it’s mostly to fund a better lifestyle in inns or lodgings.”

“We have a very good lifestyle in the temple; I don’t mind working to pay for it,” said Kaz.

Svargia laughed.

“Honey, what I mean is a single room for sleeping, probably a second room, possibly a necessary attached, not something communal, maids carrying a bath up for you, or a big bathhouse as part of where you stay, which is segregated male and female, the best food, fine clothing, and high living.”

“What does it matter if you share a room or not? Bedrooms are for sleeping in. Well, unless someone snores badly. We have a good bathhouse in the temple, we have a females-only time set aside for it, and we eat really well. And I have great clothes, now, and I spent a lot of my pay on leather clothing to be hard-wearing,” said Kaz.

“You sweet innocent,” said Svargia. “We live in the sort of conditions they tease the folk of Rhinopolis about, in their land of Penia, which is poor, which is why ‘Penian’ or ‘in Penury’ is a byword for people who get by on a sparse amount. They mostly herd sheep in the dry, hilly country which borders the great plains, and fish off the peninsula into the Great Lake. But surplus wealth is not to be found. They have no mineral wealth.”

“We have plenty to eat, and good food; I do not see a need for more,” said Kaz. “Why, I’ve grown several inches and put on a lot of muscle since I arrived.”

“You have; you looked half starved,” said Svargia. “Seeing Rynn and Zon is a bit of a reminder of that. Also, their ragged clothing.”

“There are always more slaves, the mistresses do not feel a need to pamper us,” said Kaz. “Those of us who learned how to fight had extra rations; there are Tróglings fed and clothed worse than those two.”

“I’m behind you in wanting to free them all,” said Svargia. “Are we going to rest the mules? If so, I’ll take anyone fishing, who knows how.”

“You can teach me, too,” said Kaz.

The fishermen of the group, Svargia, Kuros, and Protasion, soon amassed enough fish and shellfish for an evening meal, which Kas, Rynn, Zon, and Lelyn cleaned and gutted. Evgon was on watch. There were also two creatures about three feet long, which had the tails of fish and the front ends more akin to lizards or newts, with vicious teeth, which Protasion had waded into a swampy part to catch, using an improvised trident made of a three-pronged branch, sharpened at the ends. He used this to spear the tail, the other spikes each side of the body, and thrust his dagger into the mouth and up into the brain.

“Be careful with these sauricthys,” said Protasion. “There’s a poison sac, just where the tail attaches to the front end, where all the chaos of their unnatural joining ends up. The front half isn’t especially good eating, though Toróg digestions might make it palatable,” he added dubiously. “You can’t just cut off the tail fin, cut round the head, and draw all the bones and guts out as you can with a lot of fish, you would break the poison sac and render the whole inedible. You have to open the belly, here, with a series of shallow cuts, to draw it apart gently, and you can then cut the gut here, and down here, and take out, and see the greenish yellow poison sac on the spine. The brute force way is to cut the whole thing in half below the sac, and eat only what’s below it, but you will miss some good eating there. There are two ligaments here, which hold it; cut each in turn, and you can draw the sac out intact. I understand that in the Selenite Empire it commands high prices, because mixed with innocuous things, it makes a drug which allows dreams to open people to the Godplane for visions... or at least gives them visions. I’m dubious of whether it’s a genuine religious experience or not. Apparently if you eat poisoned sauricthys, you still get the visions but you go into a high fever and die of dehydration because your blood dries up.”

“Bury it,” said Kaz, in revulsion. She followed his instructions to clean the other sauricthys, and buried the poison sack of that, too.

“Even cutting the lizard part off, there’s a good bit of fish,” she said.

“They come bigger, in the Akerusian swamp,” said Protasion. “The biggest give the ducks, uh, the marsh-creepers, a run for their money, I’ve been on a hunt with my father when I was young and saw a marsh-creeper and a sauricthys which had killed each other. Father said that one was too big to be sweet eating, and we weren’t sure how long it had been dead, and it might have had its back broken as well, which would disperse the poison, so we burned both.”

“Only thing to do,” agreed Kaz. “I’ll bear that in mind; one of these big enough to kill a marsh-creeper is not something I want to meet.”

They collected wild food as they went on their way, including the roots of some of the cat-tails that grew at the edge of the river. That night, after building a rough shelter, they feasted well on the fish stew, flavoured with the herbs and wild food, with onions and carrots, and thickened with oatmeal. They ate it all.

“Gruel for breakfast!” laughed Protasion.

“Better gruel for breakfast than wishes,” said Kaz.

“I wonder what the gods eat,” said Lelyn, idly.

“Do they eat?” asked Svargia.

“The tapestries depict the chosen warriors feasting with Alethos,” said Lelyn.

“Yes, but that’s a human point of view,” said Svargia.

“Alathan probably knows, but he isn’t around to ask,” said Protasion.

“I imagine they are partly at least sustained by prayer and worship,” said Kaz. “Otherwise, why would they want a lot of worshippers?”

“It’s a valid point,” said Kuros.

“Just as well,” said Evgon. “Providing for you lot is enough of a chore, I can’t imagine being quartermaster to a god, and asking for numbers, and being told he isn’t sure because there’s a battle ongoing so there might be extra to dinner.”

They all laughed.

“Practical as always,” said Protasion. “I shouldn’t think the dead need any sustenance, so why are they shown feasting?”

“Convivial fellow feeling,” said Kaz. “I expect it tastes and feels like food, and is really a construct to mimic a feast, to help with bonding and so on.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” agreed Lelyn. “I vote Kaz makes breakfast, her gruel is edible.”

Kaz laughed, and agreed.

 

fate's pawn 12

 

Chapter 12

 

It was a stiff climb up the moraine over which the big waterfall poured, but the mules were surefooted. At the top, there was a big lake, held back by the huge mound of earth, mud, and rocks, nestling between the peaks on either side. Ahead, more mountains arose.

“Alathan, have you any idea where we might find the silver star?” asked Kaz. “I went to the temple of Polos, god of knowledge, and discovered that it likes soil with lime in it. That left me better informed, but none the wiser.”

“We might find it here, then,” said Alathan. “These mountains were once a lake, which was lifted up, and lava ran through them, making pipes of minerals which miners mine, but they are also made of limestone,

“Mountains can rise out of nowhere?” said Kaz.

“Oh, Mother Earth is restless,” said Alathan. “I understand that mountains can come and go. Very little is unchanging; save some of the gods, who are hidebound in their roles.”

“That will kill them when there are changes too profound, surely?” said Kaz.

“It will,” said Alathan. “If Mother Earth did not lift land up, rain would wash it all into the sea, eventually. So, she maintains a balance.”

“I see,” said Kaz. “What is the difference between change and chaos, or entropy as some call it?”

“Oh, the difficult ones first,” said Alathan. “Change is inevitable and natural; it would be wrong if a baby was born who did not grow up. Chaos is about changes that are not natural; a chaos-tainted couple might give birth to a baby who grew, but maintained always the same proportions as a baby, bandy-legged with a huge head, but as long as any adult.”

“So, a chaos-taint will make some natural feature unnatural?” asked Kaz.

“Yes, which may be beneficial to the chaotic creature, or not,” said Alathan. “The being might be unnaturally strong – or have one unnaturally strong hand. Or may be able to tap the spirit world to seize more magical power. Or spit acid or venom. Equally, it may be puny in part or all of its body, or be filled with chaotic forces that cause it to explode if touched. It may be hideously ugly or amazingly beautiful, or both at once, one each side. The only constant about a chaotic feature is that it is something no ordinary being has.”

“And if a chaotic being managed to rise to initiate of Alethos, could Alethos make his gift the removal of a chaotic feature?”

“Assuredly; his gifts are by nature a divine intervention on a personal level to aid his followers. And if it were a useful trait, then he would have the compassion to ask for a relatively easy geas to reward the devotion of such a worshiper.”

“That makes sense. Alethos is a very sensible god, without the foolish prejudices some gods seem to have.”

“The gods of the Knights of the Clear Starlight are a trifle... stubborn,” said Alathan.

“I’d understand it if it was Luna-Rogaz and Tor,” said Kaz. “They have every right to be outraged. I find it hard to get my thoughts around why those most outraged are essentially wind deities. You’d think they were next thing to chaotic.”

“Believe it or not, as random and destructive as winds can be, they are still tied to the rules of the universe and of nature,” said Alathan. “The principal gods of the Knights of the Clear Starlight are the grandchildren of Solos, the sun god, and Zea, the goddess of fertility. There are three principle ones; Polos, god of knowledge, son of Pollonis, god of inspiration, Ombros, god of the storm, son of Nevra, fertile rain, and Anemois, god of winds, and his sister, Thyella, goddess of lightning and the Celestial Virgin. Interestingly, none of the starlight daughters of Solos and Zea are a part of it, any more than the grain maidens.”

“Doesn’t Polos, like Pollonis, carry a truth glyph as part of what defines him?” asked Kaz. “Chaos does not necessarily mean evil, does it?”

“Oh, now we are back in the realms of whose truth means what,” laughed Alathan.

“You laugh, but it’s not funny if they kill people who don’t want to be chaos tainted, and can’t help it,” said Kaz.

Alathan sobered.

“You are right to rebuke me,” he said. “You make me think and analyse, and that can only be good. Sometimes there is no single truth, and then the only path to take is by the truth as you see it. It does not mean that Polosi dishonour themselves, only that they look at a different perspective, that if all chaos is killed, it diminishes Daze and Selen.”

“That’s a bit like people looking at two sides of a mountain, where the ones on the side with the gentle slope go to the top slowly and steadily, and the ones on the side with the sheer face plan to bring the top to them by hacking away at the base until it falls down.”

“Not a bad analogy,” said Alathan. “They mean well, but I agree, their way of doing things is not the best way.”

“We need to steal some others who want to be cured of their taint,” said Kaz.

“Yes, but you need to conquer the foothills before scrambling steeper pathways,” said Alathan.

 

“Do you understand half of what they talk about?” Evgon asked Protasion.

“Yes, but it’s a bit esoteric,” said Protasion.

“A lot of Glyph-levels of our god would find the discussions about truth having different faces to be sacrilege, so don’t go passing it on,” said Lelyn.

“I thought Alathan was some sort of hero of the cult? How can his dogma be suspect?” asked Kuros. “Not that I understand any more than Evgon.”

“There’s cult dogma for those of us who don’t understand and don’t want to understand higher mysteries, and then there’s defining cult dogma for those who are the sort who get divine intervention of spirits of retribution who dissolve people’s swords,” said Svargia. “I like Kaz, and I may be closer to initiation than she is, but she learns fast, and in many ways, she’s well ahead of me in understanding Alethos.”

“Alethos has always been unchanging, but I wonder if he is going to be more flexible with certain heroes,” said Lelyn.

“I haven’t understood a word of what most of you say, but Alathan smells of power and that means I feel protected, so I don’t care,” said Rynn. “Now that I understand that his disappearing is to do with training everyone to trust themselves, and stand on their own feet.”

“I fancy Kaz will want you to try to care, and to think for yourself,” said Lelyn.

“Oh, I can think for myself, but some things are above my need to know,” said Rynn. “Look, there’s a patch of silver star; that was what you were looking for, wasn’t it?”

Lelyn called to Alathan and Kaz, who had wandered off a bit, and indicated Rynn’s find.

“Well done, Rynn,” said Kaz.

The group gathered flowers and leaves of the snow-white two-layered star-shaped flower, and carefully dug up roots with soil around them to place in pots, tenderly hung over the rump of Orsida, the steadier of the two mules.

“I am not spending another night in that damned town,” said Kaz. “We’re camping.”

“None of us are arguing with that,” said Protasion, with heartfelt agreement.

 

A rather spindly spinney provided trees which might be pulled sideways, and tied to each other at the tops, and the canvas groundsheets of half the party attached over them as a shelter, whilst the rest went on the floor of the rough shelter thus made. There was no bracken, or even longish grass to pull to make a bed, and they must make do with the smallest branches they had cut off the small trees to lift them from the cold and wet of the ground.

“I’ll watch out,” said Alathan. “I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“You get your energy from the magic you possess, and that renews you as much as sleep, doesn’t it?” blurted out Rynn.

“In a way,” said Alathan. “I still need to meditate to refill my magical reserve if I have used a lot of it; but sleep, as such, is less important to me.”

“How do you get more magic?” asked Rynn.

“Well, for most people, you can expand it, even as you expand your knowledge, by using it, and especially if you have a matching of magic with others, and seeing how they have used theirs, you might be able to expand your capacity. Also, if you are in spirit combat, the raw use of your magic can enable you to meditate and increase the amount you have. Healing spells allow you to look at how your magic interacts with anyone you are healing, especially.  When you are as powerful as mortals can usually be, then it is possible to wrest power through spirit combat, and absorb, too, the knowledge of the one you are fighting. When Kaz faces Daze for the final time, she will have to rip his spirit to shreds to prevent him having any more influence, and she can then take on some of his powers as well. But that is long in the future.”

“Well, damn!” said Rynn. “So, you’ve ripped power from a lot of people?”

“And gained it in incidental ways via artefacts and rituals,” said Alathan.

“I like the casual way he throws out ‘meeting Daze for the final time,’” said Kaz.

“I have every faith in you,” said Alathan. “My mother has every confidence in you, too.”

“Do I know your mother?” asked Kaz.

“No, but she is a tool of Fate, and well aware of the prophesy,” he said. “She has foretold our happiness if we do not try to hurry anything.”

 

 

Kaz awoke as Alathan shook her awake.

“The former mistress of your friend, Rynn, is coming up the valley,” he said. “She’s a Darkling, and she has two Greater Toróg guards and half a dozen trógling with her.”

Kaz sighed.

“I knew it was going to cause trouble,” she said. “I’m not going to attack her; but those big types could make a mess of us all if they terrorise the trógling into fighting.”

“I’ll wake the others, but it’s your call,” said Alathan.

Kaz buckled her armour on swiftly and went out of the shelter.

The mule train came on; Toróg who traded with humans usually used mules rather than cold beasts.

“You’re the one who caused trouble in town; have you no sense of what is right not to cringe before your betters?” sneered the Darkling trader.

“I don’t see any betters here,” said Kaz. “I’m not about to stop you if you pass on without causing trouble, but I’m not about to take any nonsense from you either.”

“Did you steal my trógling?”

“I offered succour to a runaway; I don’t call that stealing.”

“Then you’ll suffer, and you’ll beg to be my slave,” said the Darkling.

“In your dreams,” scoffed Kaz. “I’ll fight you in single combat for the rest of your trógling, though, as well as Rynn.”

“You’ll fight one of my champions for that, scummy little underbreed,” said the Darkling.

“And if I lose, you leave the rest of my companions alone?” said Kaz.

“I so swear,” said the Darkling. “My name is Hraazaz Wealthbringer.”

“And mine is Kaz of Alethos,” said Kaz. “Your champion?”

“Korg,” said Hraazaz.

The huge figure of a Greater Toróg came forward.

“Korg break sassy trógling enough and then keep to warm Korg’s furs. Sassy trógling last longer than most,” he said.

Unlike Darklings, Greater Toróg had visible fangs, which he licked.

“I do not think so, you bestial creature,” said Kaz, coldly. “Have you heard of an oath-zone, Hraazaz Wealthbringer?”

“I can’t say that I have,” said Hraazaz.

“You swore oath that I would fight this Korg and no others. Anyone who interferes... well, it was you who made the oath.”

“They will not interfere,” said Hraazaz.

“Someone is skirting the truth,” the voice in Kaz’s mind was amused.

“It’s a spell which ought to exist, if it doesn’t, my lord,” thought Kaz.

“When you are sufficiently well trained, you can research and institute it,” was the reply. “You might want to consider having it as an unpleasantness level as well as a death spell, depending on how deadly is the oath.”

“Like having ‘oathbreaker’ branded on the forehead, readable in whatever language the viewer knows,” said Kaz.

“Good.”

Kaz must now concentrate as Korg hefted a club which looked like the greater part of a small tree. He was grinning. He wore cuir-bouilli armour, leather hardened by being boiled in oil, a breastplate, greaves, vambraces, and tassets on his thighs. No pauldrons, no upper limb protection, and a simple helmet of animal tusks and bronze mounting.

“Break arms and legs and you helpless,” he said.

Kaz cast her battle magic, sharpblade and parry. She had never bothered with a popular human spell, to blur the image, because it did not fool darksense, being designed by and for humans, to work on the sense of vision. Instead, she relied on the dancing, twisting acrobatics Alathan had taught her, to confuse in the way that the leaping of a hare or the swaying of a snake did. Her parry lopped half a foot off the end of the club, the sharpblade spell helping with that.

“Bad trógling, hurt Korg’s club,” said Korg.

Kaz did not bother to answer. She had her hands full with fighting the big killing machine. Where the average Darkling Toróg stood at seven feet or so, the Greater Toróg were eight feet and more, almost twice as tall as Kaz. Korg slammed down his club again, narrowly missing Kaz as she danced to one side. With a snarl of rage, the big Toróg swept it sideways, and Kaz gasped as the end caught her left arm, literally tossing her into the air. She went with the motion, twisting to land on her feet, knowing that her left arm was broken. She could not afford time or power on healing; the quick and easy cantrip to splint it would mean she could function. It would mean a full day before she could have a healing spell on it, but that was how it would have to be. She watched for the club to sweep out again, and then, her wounded arm tucked against her, she dived and rolled right through Korg’s legs, and came up spinning to her feet to hack through the unprotected tendons behind his right knee, where the cuir-bouilli armour did not cover them.

The big Toróg stumbled and fell to the knee, as his leg buckled, the opening Kaz was looking for. Korg was leaning forward, and Kaz leaped onto his back, thrusting her sword into his ear.

With awful slowness, the Toróg toppled onto his face, and lay still.

Kaz jumped down and bowed to Hraazaz.