Chapter Three
It took Keo's shoulder a week to recover, mostly because the cut had done a lot more damage than he had thought. Thus, Keo spent most of his time in bed, letting Tiram bring him meals and allowing his master to change his bandages once a day. It was frustrating because Keo wanted to leave right away, but it was always unwise to travel long distances with a wounded shoulder and so Keo did not want to lose the use of his right arm just because he was too impatient to wait for it to heal. Tiram certainly didn't seem to mind the fact that Keo could not go anywhere right away, but that was obviously because Tiram did not want Keo to leave.
Keo understood why. Aside from Keo, Tiram lived entirely alone in his little cabin in the Low Woods. Although Tiram had raised Keo ever since he found Keo abandoned as a baby on the now-overgrown road in the forest, Tiram had no other family or relations that Keo knew of. Tiram didn't even have any friends. Anytime Keo asked Tiram about his family, Tiram would always change the subject or give exceedingly vague answers that always left Keo wanting more.
As a result, Tiram had grown to rely on Keo for many things, such as running errands in town and the like. Keo was aware of the rumors from the people of New Ora who liked to paint Tiram as some sort of crazy hermit who hated people and ate children, but he knew those were false. Master Tiram could be eccentric and cranky, sure, but he was a good man at heart and an even better swordsmen, having taught Keo everything he knew about swordsmanship, as well as giving Keo Gildshine in the first place.
No doubt the reason Tiram wanted Keo to stay was so that Tiram would not have to do as many chores about the cabin or run errands into town. Keo did not mind doing these things for Tiram, who he saw as both a mentor and father figure, but right now Keo had far more important things to do than split wood for the winter or buy supplies in town, and he hoped that Tiram understood that, even though Tiram still seemed skeptical of the possibility that the demons were going to rise again.
At the end of the week, when Keo's shoulder had fully recovered from the wound, Keo slung a pack full of food and water over his shoulder and attached Gildshine and its green sheath to his side on the front steps of the cabin. Tiram stood in the doorway of the cabin, of the only home that Keo had ever known, watching him with annoyance and worry in his old eyes.
“Are you sure that you still feel all right?” said Tiram. “That shoulder wound was very deep and bloody, even after I cleaned it. If you want to stay and rest a little while longer—”
“No,” said Keo, shaking his head as he stood up, having finished tying the laces of his old hunting boots. He then patted his shoulder, which no longer hurt. “It feels fine. You know I'm a quick healer, master. That sort of injury might have incapacitated a normal person for a month, but not me.”
“I know,” said Tiram. “Still, Capitika is a long way away from here. Are you certain you'll get there in a week, like you said?”
“Yes,” said Keo. “I know the way there. I'm going to go stop by New Ora, pick up some supplies there, and then take the old roads to the city. If the ancestors are feeling kindly toward me this week, then I should hopefully avoid any bad weather that could delay me or even force me to stop for a few days.”
“But you've never gone farther than New Ora before,” Tiram said. “Are you sure you will be able to get all the way to Capitika before the demons return?”
“Yes,” said Keo. He gestured at the path leading from the cabin to the woods surrounding them on all sides. “Lots of people go from New Ora to Capitika and back on a regular basis without any trouble. Besides, I know some shortcuts that some of the merchants in town have told me about, so I can use those to cut down on traveling time. Maybe I will even arrive early. You never know.”
“Well, I'll be asking our ancestors to protect you anyway,” said Tiram. “Just to be safe.”
“I appreciate that, master,” said Keo. He readjusted the straps of his pack one more time, just to make sure that it would not fall off, and said, “Well, this is good bye, then. I will see you in a month, master. Take care.”
“You, too, Keo,” said Tiram, waving at Keo. “Just don't do get yourself killed, all right?”
Keo nodded, turned, and walked down the steps toward the forest. He didn't make it very far down the path to the woods before Tiram called, “Keo?”
Stopping before the old wooden gate that separated the cabin from the rest of the forest, Keo looked back at Tiram, who still stood in the doorway with his own sword, Soulheart, sheathed at his side.
“Yes, master?” said Keo. “What is it?”
Tiram bit his lower lip and looked like he had a lot to say to Keo, but then he shook his head and said, “Nah, never mind. I just wanted to tell you not to be an idiot, but I figured you already knew that. Just leave and stay safe.”
Keo could tell that Tiram wanted to say something else, but whatever it was, Tiram apparently thought better of it. Keo was tempted to go back and ask Tiram what he really wanted to say, but then he remembered that he only had slightly less than six months left before the demons returned, which meant that he had no time to lose if he was going to get to Capitika and find Nesma in time for the Magical Council to stop the demons in time.
So Keo simply nodded, waved good bye at Tiram one last time, undid the hatch on the front gate, and soon was gone, heading into the Low Woods, fully intending to get to New Ora before lunch, because it was early morning at the moment and it would take him a few hours to get there from here, assuming that he did not run into any obstacles along the way.
-
As Keo expected, he ran into no major issues on the way through the Low Woods to New Ora. Still, he kept his eyes and ears open at all times as he walked, expecting another demon—or maybe the same one from last week, if the demons could return from the dead, as he suspected they could—to attack him to try to end his quest before he got a chance to tell anyone about it. But he was not attacked by any demons along the way, although he did run across a wounded wood wolf that he had to put out of its misery.
Despite that, Keo did not feel safe until he emerged from the Low Woods and onto the main path leading to New Ora, which was located in a nearby valley. He could even see it from his current position, a town of about one thousand people and a few hundred houses and buildings. Rising from the center of the town was a Magician's Tower, where the local Magician lived. It was the fanciest building in the town, with its silver rooftop and golden exterior, but Keo did not consider stopping by to speak with the local Magician, a grumpy old man named Skran, who he had never gotten along with and who had always distrusted Tiram and him whenever they entered town anyway. Besides, Keo knew that Skran would never believe his story about the demons or help him get to the capital, which was why Keo had to go to Capitika and tell Nesma about it himself.
So Keo went down the road into the valley and soon came upon the walls surrounding the town. The gatekeeper, a portly but strong man named Kima, sat in the guard tower near the gates, looking a little tired, as he always did, because Kima usually got the night and morning shifts. Still, Kima had always been a lot politer and friendlier to Keo than most of the inhabitants of New Ora, so Keo did not feel any reservations as he walked up to the gates.
“Good morning, Mr. Kima,” said Keo, waving at the guard as he stopped in front of the closed iron gates. “Can you let me into town? I have to pick up a few things and I would like to do it right away.”
Kima peered out the window of his guard tower at Keo, a frown visible under his silver mustache. “Back again? Weren't you just here last week? I thought you only came to town once a month.”
“Yes,” said Keo, nodding. “But I'm back again because I am going to Capitika and I need to pick up a few supplies before I head out. It's going to be a long trip and I just want to get some bandages and medicine so I can treat any injuries I might get on the way there.”
“Capitika?” Kima repeated, sitting back in his chair inside the small tower. “Why are you going all
the way out there by yourself?”
Keo considered telling Kima about the demons, but he did not want to worry the old man unnecessarily, nor did he want any rumors to spread about something even he didn't quite understand all that well.
Keo simply said, “I'm going to visit a friend of mine who moved there a year ago. It's been a long time since I last saw her and I miss her greatly.”
“Ah,” said Kima, nodding in understanding. “I got some friends in Capitika, too, who I haven't seen in years. Would love to visit 'em, but I'm not as young as I used to be, so I can't. Well, anyway, if you're going to come into town, you have to give me your weapon.”
Keo frowned and glanced at Gildshine, which was sheathed securely at his waist. He already knew about this law that Skran had enforced on the town. Skran had decreed that anyone traveling into New Ora had to relinquish any and all weapons they carried—ranging from tiny daggers to huge broadswords—to the gatekeepers for the duration of their stay in the town, unless they were soldiers in the army or were granted a written exemption from Skran or Magical Council.
While Keo always complied with the law, he didn't like it because he always felt a lot less secure without Gildshine. True, Master Tiram had taught him some hand-to-hand fighting techniques in the past, but the fact was that a sword was almost always a better weapon for self-defense than a fist. Of course, most people in New Ora were friendly and Keo had never actually been attacked while unarmed in town, but he still didn't like giving up his most prized possession, not even just for a few minutes.
But Keo knew there was no way he could get into New Ora without first relinquishing his weapon, so he nodded with reluctance, detached the sheathed Gildshine from his waist, and handed it to Kima. Kima took the sword gently and carefully and then placed it out of sight below his desk, where he kept all relinquished weapons until their owner returned to retrieve them.
Then Kima pulled a lever and the gates creaked open, allowing Keo to enter. Keo nodded at Kima in thanks and then passed through the open gates into New Ora itself.
As it was now mid-morning, most of the inhabitants of New Ora were awake and walking around the town, going about their daily work or running errands. Most paid him no attention, which was fine because Keo did not like it when strangers stared at him. And most of these people were strangers to him, even though he visited New Ora fairly often, because he didn't interact with most of them very much except for business purposes. He passed by a couple of kids playing some sort of game with rocks and sticks, several older men arguing about some of the finer points of magic, and a messenger—identifiable because of the red cap he wore securely on his head—who flashed past Keo on his way to deliver a message to someone.
Keo had one destination in mind: The open air marketplace, where he would buy some bandages and medicine to take with him on his journey to Capitika. While Tiram had provided him with some medical supplies before he left the Low Woods, the truth was that Keo believed he would need a lot more than what Tiram had given him, so he was going to get what he could afford here and then leave. He did not intend to stay very long. If possible, he would be in and out of Capitika in under an hour, if not quicker.
Thus, when Keo arrived at the marketplace located in the center of the town, near the Magician's Tower, he was surprised when he saw a huge crowd of people gathered near one of the stalls. They were all shouting and cheering, their shouts occasionally punctuated by the sounds of metal clanging against metal. The crowd was too thick for Keo to see through, but he knew that he would have to pass through them because the merchant he was thinking of who sold medical supplies always set up shop on the opposite end of the marketplace. Keo dreaded going through the crowd, though, because he hated having to push past other people, despite being a fairly big guy himself who was stronger than most people.
But a part of him was also curious to learn about what the crowd was watching, so he walked up to the back of the crowd and stood on his tiptoes to see over the heads of everyone else and find out what was going on. Unfortunately, he could not see much except that there were two people facing each other in the center, so he asked one of the people in the back of the crowd, “What's going on?”
The person he asked—a teenager with a sack full of beets slung over his shoulder—turned to look at Keo and said excitedly, “There's a duel going on between this Wanderer from out of town and Merchant Yasfa. It's pretty amazing so far.”
Keo knew who Yasfa was. Yasfa was an immigrant from Hasfar, which was south of the border and beyond the Low Woods, who sold Hasfarian goods to the people of New Ora. Keo had bought a few things from Yasfa in the past, but he had never thought of the merchant as being particularly violent or prone to dueling.
So Keo asked, “Why is Yasfa fighting the traveler? Did the traveler attack him?”
“No,” said the youth, shaking his head. “I only just got here, but I heard that the Wanderer insulted Yasfa's wares and insulted him. Yasfa challenged him to a duel and the traveler accepted. It started just a few minutes ago.”
“But how are they fighting if you aren't allowed to carry weapons beyond New Ora's walls?” asked Keo.
“Yasfa's got this weird stick he's using as a weapon,” the youth explained. “You know that walking stick he always carries? He's treating it like a spear and a club combined. And the Wanderer doesn't have any weapons, but he's pretty skilled with his hands, so he's been getting some good hits with his fists.”
Keo was about to ask who the traveler was when he heard a sudden thump from the fight and the crowd started shouting and chanting again. From what Keo could tell, the crowd was divided between those who supported Yasfa and those who supported his opponent. That was not too surprising, however, because while Yasfa had been a regular seller of Hasfarian goods in New Ora for some five years now, there were still many who did not like him due to his contempt for the native Lamairans, who he tended to treat as inferior despite having moved to the country a long time back, although he was always happy to take their money in exchange for his goods, of course.
But despite Yasfa's arrogance, Keo had always liked him, because Yasfa's Hasfarian wares were always of interest to him. He decided to find out just who this Wanderer was who was fighting Yasfa, which he would have to do anyway if he was going to reach the merchant who sold medical supplies.
So Keo pushed through the crowd until he got to the front, where he saw that a large space had been cleared out so that the two fighters could have space.
Yasfa stood closer to Keo, his short, ratty hair hanging down on his shoulders as he held out his staff in a defensive position. Yasfa had dropped his usual green Hasfarian robes in favor of wearing nothing but his brown pants, displaying his shirtless chest for all to see. Although Yasfa was older than Keo, the man looked just as fit as a man half his age, which surprised Keo because he had never thought of Yasfa as being a very fit man. Then again, he had not thought that Yasfa could fight, either, so there were clearly many things that he did not know about Yasfa.
Standing opposite Yasfa was a man who Keo had never seen before in his life. The man looked to be between Keo and Yasfa in terms of age, although his hardened and battle-scarred face made him look older than he probably was. The man wore a worn-looking leather jacket and a black tunic underneath, and he, too, had taken up a defensive position, holding his fists up before him like a trained fighter. The man had red eyes, an unusual sight if Keo ever saw one, because most of the people in New Ora had either brown or black eyes, sometimes green. The man looked much like a Wanderer, which was a type of person in Lamaira who had no home and belonged to no faction, simply drifting from place to place without any thought as to where he was going.
In any case, both Yasfa and the Wanderer were panting. Sweat gleamed off of Yasfa's chest, while sweat disappeared into the headband around the Wanderer's head. Even though the two of them had not been fighting for very long, it was clear that they had been going at it with everything they had. The Wanderer's rig
ht arm had the impression of Yasfa's staff on it, while Yasfa had a fist-shaped bruise in his face.
Nonetheless, it was clear that neither one was going to back down, despite the beatings that both of them had taken. Keo looked around, but did not see any of Skran's Enforcers around to break up the fight, although that did not surprise him because Skran around here typically did not break up these kinds of fights or duels because of his contempt for the commoners unless the fight turned into a riot of some sort.
“Well, well, red-eyes,” said Yasfa suddenly, speaking in that same Hasfarian accent that made his speech hard to understand at times. “Ready to give up yet or do you want another beating?”
“I don't know,” said the Wanderer. His voice was a lot softer than Yasfa's, but that did not make him look any weaker or less dangerous in Keo's eyes. “How much more can Hasfarian sand crawlers like you take?”
Half of the crowd gasped and looked around at each other when the Wanderer said that, while the other half laughed. While Keo was no expert in these issues, he knew that 'sand crawler' was typically considered a derogatory term for Hasfarians. And while Keo was rarely one to take offense for other people, he found himself liking this Wanderer far less than he had before.
Yasfa scowled and spun his staff. “Sand crawler? That is as much an insult to my god as it is to me. But I will take that as a 'yes,' so prepare for a beat down, you pale-skinned freak.”
Yasfa charged toward the Wanderer, swinging his staff at him. The Wanderer, however, did not move. He simply stayed where he was, watching as Yasfa drew closer and closer to him, which made Keo wonder if the Wanderer was just going to stand there and let Yasfa beat him or if he had a plan to defend himself.
Right when the large tip of Yasfa's staff was only inches from the Wanderer's head, the Wanderer ducked, allowing the staff to go sailing across the space where his head had been. Then, taking advantage of the opening that Yasfa had left, Wanderer struck Yasfa's jaw with an uppercut from his right fist.
The blow connected squarely with Yasfa's jaw and Yasfa immediately staggered backwards, dropping his staff as he did so. The Wanderer, however, was not finished with Yasfa yet. He kicked the staff away, where it rolled several feet away outside of Yasfa's reach, and then advanced on Yasfa as swiftly as a snake approaching its prey. Yasfa, who looked dazed from the blow to the jaw, tried to punch the Wanderer, but it was clear that he had no training in fisticuffs, because his punch missed and the Wanderer responded with another devastating punch that almost knocked Yasfa off his feet.
Then the Wanderer unleashed a flurry of fast punches that Keo could barely follow. Every blow struck Yasfa in the face or chest and they came so fast and so hard that Yasfa was unable to mount a defense against them. There was no hesitation or slothfulness in the Wanderer's attack. Although the Wanderer could not have had more than half a second between each punch, it was clear that he put a lot of strength into each one in order to maximize the pain. Keo did not know as much about fisticuffs as he did about sword-fighting, but even he could tell that this Wanderer was no amateur, which made him wonder where this guy had gotten his training.
But that didn't matter to Keo at the moment because he could tell that the Wanderer was going to kill Yasfa if someone did not intervene. And while half of the crowd was clearly on Yasfa's side, they must have had the same realization as him regarding the obvious skill of the Wanderer, because no one looked like they were going to try to stop him and there was not a single Enforcer in sight to break up the fight.
I should just go and get the medical supplies I need, but Yasfa has always been fair to me, so I should help him, Keo thought. I'll break up the fight and then go on my way.
With that, Keo ran out into the circle of the fight, ignoring the calls from the people in the crowd to stay out of it. The Wanderer didn't seem to notice Keo coming, probably because he was too busy beating the spirit out of Yasfa, whose face was now bloody and broken from the repeated blows from the Wanderer.
“Hey!” Keo shouted as he ran up to the Wanderer. “Stop this! You're going to kill him if you—”
Keo was interrupted when the Wanderer whirled around like a tornado and slammed his fist into Keo's gut. The blow was like getting hit by a raging ox, sending Keo staggering backwards, the breath knocked from his lungs. He managed to regain his balance and his breath, however, and looked up to see the Wanderer had returned to beating on Yasfa as if Keo had not tried to interrupt him at all.
Scowling, Keo stood up, ignoring the pain in his gut from where the Wanderer's fist had struck, and walked back up to the Wanderer and said, “Hey, I said—”
Once again, the Wanderer whirled around to punch him, but this time Keo saw it coming. He caught the Wanderer's fist and twisted it, but then the Wanderer's other fist flew toward him out of nowhere and he had to let go and jump back to avoid getting socked in the head. This time, the Wanderer did not return to beating on Yasfa, who had by now fallen over onto the ground unconscious from the repeated blows to the face.
Instead, the Wanderer faced Keo, looking at Keo as if he had just rudely interrupted him while he was doing something important. “Just who the hell are you, kid? Friend of this sand crawler?”
“One of his customers,” said Keo, holding his own fists up to protect himself in case the Wanderer decided to attack again. “I just didn't want to see him murdered in cold blood.”
The Wanderer snorted. “I wasn't going to murder him. Cripple him, yes, beat him to within an inch of his life, of course, but murder? I am no murderer. Never have been, never will be.”
“Could have fooled me,” said Keo. “Why don't you pick on someone who can actually fight back equally, like me? I'm a trained fighter and so are you, clearly, so maybe you should try to take me on instead.”
The Wanderer smirked. “Kid, you haven't insulted me like this dumb sand crawler has, but that's all right. You managed to catch my fist, which I will admit is impressive because very few have the reflexes for that, but I can also tell that you are a complete amateur when it comes to fisticuffs. I can beat you in two minutes, tops.”
“Or perhaps we could not fight at all,” said Keo, looking around the area briefly but seeing no one but the crowd of spectators who had been watching the fight. “Magician Skran's Enforcers will probably come by soon and throw us both in jail if we fight. Promise to leave Yasfa alone and leave New Ora within the next hour and I promise not to tell the Enforcers on you.”
“I've tangled with law enforcement before and always won,” said the Wanderer. “But I still hate dealing with 'em, so I'm going to knock you down and leave. Always hate these small towns anyway, 'cause they're full of arrogant kids like you who think that fighting a childhood bully is the same as fighting a trained adult fighter like myself.”
With that, the Wanderer charged toward Keo like a wood wolf. Keo charged toward him and swung his fist at the Wanderer's head, but the Wanderer ducked and hit Keo twice, once in the gut and once in the chest.
The Wanderer's blows knocked the breath out of Keo's lungs again. Nonetheless, Keo still tried to stand and hit the Wanderer, but the Wanderer dodged it as casually as if going for a stroll in the Low Woods and then struck Keo in the face.
That blow was enough to knock Keo flat on his back. He hit the street hard, his head spinning, making it impossible for him to get back up and continue to fight. All he could make out was the Wanderer standing and smirking above him.
Then the Wanderer glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Fifteen seconds. A new record for knocking down ignorant kids like you. My previous record was sixteen point two seconds, and that was against a guy much skinnier than you. What a—”
But then a solid thwack interrupted the Wanderer and he fell to the street unconscious. Keo looked up to see Yasfa, his face still bloody and his nose broken, standing right behind where the Wanderer had stood, panting as he held his staff before him. He was looking down at the Wanderer with savage glee in his eyes.
“Take
that, you arrogant thug,” said Yasfa. His words were even harder to understand than normal due to the fact that some of is teeth had been broken and his face was swollen in several places from where the Wanderer had hit him. “How do you like that?”
Just then, a loud whistle screeched through the air, which Keo recognized as the whistle that Skran's Enforcers always blew whenever they were coming. Three such Enforcers then emerged from the crowd, wearing gray iron armor with the symbol of the Magicians—a flaming staff—on their chests. They made their way over to where Yasfa stood over the Wanderer and Keo, grim expressions on their faces as they approached.
“What is going on here?” said the lead Enforcer, who was probably the Captain (although Keo was too dazed at the moment to recall the Captain's name), to Yasfa, who had lowered his staff and was now leaning on it like he always did. “We received reports of a fight starting over here. Were you involved in it?”
“Yes, Captain sir, I was,” said Yasfa. He pointed at the Wanderer. “This man savagely attacked me for no reason. I was merely fighting in self-defense.”
“I see,” said the Captain. He glanced at Keo. “And what about this young man here? Did he attack you as well?”
“No, sir,” said Yasfa, shaking his head. “He tried to save me, but was knocked down by this vile Wanderer.”
Keo smiled. He had worried that Yasfa might not come to his defense, but apparently Yasfa valued Keo's patronage of his business enough to make sure that the authorities understood that Keo had done nothing wrong.
“I see,” said the Captain again. “Well, self-defense is legal, so we're not going to take you to jail.” He gestured at the Wanderer and Keo. “Instead, we'll haul these two to jail until we can determine an appropriate punishment for the laws they so flagrantly broke.”
“What?” said Keo. His head still spun, but he managed to sit up anyway. “But I was trying to protect Yasfa. How is that against the law?”
“The law states that attacking innocent people is illegal,” the Captain said. “It is also illegal for someone to start a fight with another person. Based on what I have heard and seen so far, you initiated a fight with the Wanderer even though he was attacking Mr. Yasfa here and not you.”
Keo looked at Yasfa. “Yasfa, you don't actually agree with this, do you?”
Yasfa shrugged. “Your laws are not my laws, so who am I to argue with your Enforcers? I need a doctor, anyway, to look at my face and heal it. I have no time to waste arguing with the Enforcers over the finer points of the law, seeing as I am not a lawyer myself.”
Keo could hardly believe Yasfa's treachery, but before he could yell at Yasfa for it, the other two Enforcers grabbed the Wanderer and him, propped them on their feet, and then shackled them with thick and heavy iron cuffs.
“All right, now,” said the Captain. “Take those two to the jail and lock 'em up tight. I'm going to help Mr. Yasfa find a doctor, as well as ask the witnesses what they saw for the report.”
“Yes, sir,” said one of the Enforcers, a young man who didn't look much older than Keo.
Thus, the two Enforcers forced Keo and the Wanderer—who had now returned to consciousness, although he seemed dazed and hardly in any position to attempt to escape—away and through the crowd, which parted to let them through. Keo, however, glared at Yasfa one last time before they left, but Yasfa was already being tended to by the town doctor, who had apparently been one of the spectators of the fight.
But what made this worse was that Keo had no idea how long he would be in jail. Or how he was going to escape.
***