Chapter 13: The Hijackers
The next day, Kelden couldn't stomach breakfast. Just like the ailment in Dameon's legs, Kelden's disease could have come from anywhere in a landscape full of unseen hazards. The mere thought of food made him want to vomit.
Kelden took out his vials of Ulsef blood and gave one to Dameon. But it did nothing for either of them, leading Kelden to believe the Ulsef blood was spoiled or missing some key ingredient. His stomach churned, his head ached, and his entire body felt encased in lead. Knowing he'd inevitably feel worse if he didn't eat, he forced himself to swallow a few pieces of meat and somehow kept them down.
Then began a thoroughly miserable day of travel for him. The fog continued to shroud the land and the rain held steady. Kelden walked like a zombie, each heavy step causing a pounding wave of nausea. His senses seemed anything but sharp. He had to keep stopping to visit the bushes.
"What a lucky bunch we are," said Thayan, laughing. "Foul weather, diseases, assassins throwing spears. We're truly blessed!"
But luck seemed to be with them for once, as a long, barrel-laden wagon pulled by a pair of Gragas beasts soon caught up with them. The Gragas beasts were by no means swift creatures, being bulky with short legs, but they kept a steady pace that was faster than a man's best stride. They were shaggy animals with long, dour faces and horns that curved downward. Their manes hung like thick brown carpet strands, looking almost like cotton or some other woven fabric.
Strangely, the Galds didn't alert the company to the wagon's approach. The nine warriors were off in the fog somewhere, undetectable.
The wagon driver was a thin man with long black hair and a bushy beard. He wore plain clothes that indicated nothing, since most travelers tried to appear poor so bandits might let them be. He drove the Gragas beasts by tickling them periodically with a feathered staff--a sensation the beasts found far more inspiring than the crack of a whip.
He stopped the wagon. "What is this?" he boomed out, grinning. "A Dar fiend, a former seer, and two young men with the look of sorcerers. What a strange company this is. You're not bandits by any chance?"
"Certainly not," said Theodus.
"You speak rather boldly," said Dameon, pointing his mace at the wagon driver. "And to speak boldly to strangers is always a gamble."
The thin man's face paled. "I meant no disrespect, friend. I was just curious. I guess I'll be on my way, then."
"And why not?" said Dameon. "You've already insulted us. You might as well ride off in your wagon and leave us to walk. My friend is sick and can hardly get around, and my legs are burning with pain. So why bother helping us?"
The man lowered the feathered tickler, his hands trembling. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just my manner of greeting people."
"It sure sounded insulting," said Thayan. "What do you have in those barrels back there?"
The thin man glanced behind him nervously. "Just ale. Poor quality. Not really worth the trip, even."
"Well, be on your way then," said Dameon, motioning him along. "What are you waiting for? Like I said, we don't expect any help from you."
"Wait," said Kelden, glaring at Dameon. "What are you doing? I wouldn't mind a ride. Can we ride in your wagon, sir?"
The thin man shook his head, looking stricken. "I...I don't have any room back there. The barrels take up all the space. I'm just a poor merchant."
"Then maybe you should dump a few," said Thayan. "Or is your ale more important than our welfare?"
"Not at all," said the merchant. "But my shipment is bound for Murakan. It's a long journey, and I need to be paid."
"Of course," said Dameon. "Your greed is all that matters to you."
Kelden started to protest, but Dameon clutched his arm in a painful grip, warning him to be silent.
"We need your help, merchant," Theodus said. "We aren't thieves. We don't want your ale. We only ask that you make space for us so we can ride to Murakan. My master is sick and shouldn't be on his feet."
"I'm so terribly sorry," the wagon driver said. "But this ale--all of it--must be delivered or I won't get my money. I need money to feed my family."
"It's your choice, merchant," said Theodus. "But leaving us to walk when we're ill and facing the threat of worms at night is quite immoral."
The wagon driver shrugged helplessly.
Dameon sighed and tapped his mace against his palm. "We don't seem to be getting anywhere. It has been a rough day, merchant, and I'm cranky. Upon further reflection, I feel... Well, to be perfectly honest, I feel like crushing your skull."
"Dameon!" Kelden protested in disgust. Kelden was so sick that he desperately wanted to ride on the wagon, but not by forcing the issue. He felt as if he were in the company of rogues and didn't like it at all.
The driver glanced about, looking for a way to escape. But Dameon and the others blocked the road, and the Gragas beasts were gentle and wouldn't trample them. Finally, the driver raised his hands pleadingly. "Please, just let me be on my way. The worms! I need to reach the Wheel Rocks by nightfall."
Thayan laughed and glanced at Dameon. "Sure. We'll just let him be on his way, and we can keep plodding along like miserable fools. He gets to sleep underground tonight, while we scrounge for the meager shelter of boulder or tree. Or maybe we'll just catch a ride anyway, unless he thinks he can stop us."
"Please, please!" the merchant moaned. "My children need food."
"Enough with your sorry begging," said Dameon. "I'll leave it up to my friend here. It's his decision to make." He gazed purposefully at Kelden.
Kelden glanced at Theodus. "What do you think?"
"You're my master," said Theodus. "I go where you lead. However, I don't approve of us forcing our will onto others."
Kelden nodded, then fixed a pleading gaze on the merchant. "Can you dump off a few barrels, good sir, and then we'll pay you back for them when we reach Murakan? We're really quite desperate here."
The merchant shook his head.
Dameon's face darkened. "Enough of this! We're riding--"
With a bellow, the merchant reached behind him, pulled out a crossbow, and fired it at Dameon. But the former seer was prepared, his mace shining with a sorcerous glow. The arrow deflected off an invisible barrier, throwing up blue sparks.
"I'll kill you for that!" Dameon snarled. He charged the wagon, seized the merchant, and hurled him to the ground. He raised his mace for the deadly blow.
"Don't kill him!" Kelden cried.
"Spare him!" Theodus yelled.
Thayan simply watched.
Dameon sighed and lowered the mace. "I suppose I'll spare your life--though you would have taken mine. As payment for your murderous attack, I'm seizing your wagon and all the goods within."
"You can't do that!" the merchant cried. "My money. I need my money. I have a wife and children. I need my money!"
Theodus pulled the man to his feet. "Enough. You'll get your money when we get to Murakan, and nothing will be lost. All we ask for is a ride in your wagon, and that you don't try to kill us again. Haven't you heard of road courtesy? Travelers in need must come first. Now will you show some honor and do the right thing?"
"You had no right to attack Dameon," said Kelden. "You could have killed him!"
"I felt threatened," the merchant mumbled. "I reacted on instinct."
"It was still cowardly," said Kelden. "Nevertheless, we are not going to take your ale or anything like that. We just want a ride."
The merchant nodded and blew his nose, new calculations forming in his beady eyes. "I...I suppose that's fair enough, my friends. I'm sorry for lashing out like that. I thought you were bandits."
Dameon laughed. "I'm sure you did. We look just like a party of bandits. Why, the Dar fiend could be our leader!"
The merchant squirmed. "Sorry."
"You're a fool," Dameon muttered at the cringing man. "To needlessly attack a former seer is not wise. What were you thinking? And be truthful!"
"I was thinki
ng..." The merchant hesitated. Then he shrugged. "Very well, I was thinking you look a bit heavy in the belly, that your reflexes are probably slow. And I'm an expert marksman."
Dameon nodded. "So you thought I was too fat to save myself--that you could sneak one in on me and take me out? Well let me tell you something, you sorry little wretch! I don't give second chances. Try anything like that again, and I'll smash your face into pudding!"
The merchant gazed at his feet, saying nothing.
"Let's leave him to walk," said Thayan. "As he would have done to us."
"No need for that," said Dameon, shooting Thayan a concerned glance. "We cannot allow ourselves to become heartless. The merchant will ride with us in spite of his murderous act."
"I was only joking," said Thayan.
Dameon's gaze lingered on Thayan, his face furrowed in thought. Thayan smiled. "Really, I was only kidding, big fellow. We got the wagon. We don't need to leave him stranded. Sheesh! I can't understand your thinking sometimes, Dameon."
"I'm training you, Thayan," said Dameon. "I don't want to create a monster and have that on my conscience for the rest of my life."
"Don't worry," Thayan mumbled under his breath. "I won't turn out like you."
"What did you say, boy?" Dameon snarled, his eyes wide.
"Nothing," said Thayan. He walked away.
Dameon rubbed his thigh and winced. "Wretched legs. Every time I get my blood pumping, the pain flairs up."
"Quickly," said Kelden, holding his stomach. "Clear me a space back there, Theodus. Make it big enough so I can lie down. Ugh! This sickness is wretched. Why did the seers have to go and give me spoiled Ulsef blood? It's not fair!"
Dameon nudged Kelden in the ribs. "Keep your eye on that merchant," he whispered. "He intends to kill us whenever he gets a chance."
Kelden nodded weakly. "The story of my life. Everyone wants to kill me when they get the chance."
Theodus' bat ears perked up. "Someone is moving toward us through the fog. It's the Galds. How will we find enough space for them?"
"Galds?" The merchant shuddered. "What do you know of the Galds? Tembros spare me! Orphealla cast your light on me!"
"That's right, merchant," Thayan laughed. "We travel with nine Gald warriors. So remember that when you lay down to sleep tonight."
"The Galds will continue on foot," said Dameon. "They are tireless and swift. Also, if we encounter soldiers from Murakan--or from anywhere else--it wouldn't bode well for us to be seen in the company of those savages."
Dameon ordered Thayan to sit up front with the merchant to keep an eye on him. Meanwhile, the others stretched out amidst the heavy oaken barrels. Kelden lay wedged between barrels, lost in his sickness but relieved he no longer had to walk. As he lay there, his fear over the Blue World sorcerer was diminished. He was almost too sick to care about that threat, and the barrels seemed to shield him (even if it was a false sense of security). He wondered how deep his illness ran. It felt like a common ailment, and so he wasn't too concerned yet. But there was always a chance it could get worse, so he began his meditations that would release his healing sorcery. It was slow but powerful restoration that would cure most diseases.
Kelden wanted to fall asleep but could not. Finally he struck up a conversation with Dameon just to distract himself from his misery. "Assuming we decide to go there at some point, how will we ever get into Iragantheos? If the lonely tower is truly controlled by Jarvin...it just seems impossible."
"Yes, it does," Dameon agreed. "But we have to trust in our destiny. Right now we are lost in the darkness, trying to find a way. But things are becoming clearer. It is possible that after thousands of years, a solution to the worm plague will be found. If your vision contained truth, it is well worth the sacrifice of our lives--and even the lives of many others--to gain possession of the mind soothe."
"But Halstarion technology is never to be trusted," Theodus said. "Otherwise, the seers would not have forbid interacting with it. Can't you see the folly in this?"
"I cannot," said Dameon. "Yes, some old world machines are evil--many, in fact. But there is truth to be found amidst the lies, and my instincts tell me that creature in the Gald village--that great hulk of living metal--is different, wise and caring. It may not be a Halstarion creation at all but a device from another realm, perhaps from out amongst the stars." He waved his hand heavenward. "Who knows how many worlds like this one harbor living beings out there? Regardless, I think that creature is something greater than what the Halstarions could have produced, and probably much older than anything from that age. Certainly the seers wouldn't see it that way. They would avoid it, or try to destroy it. And thus the closed-minded fools would never learn from it."
"But what about Jarvin?" said Kelden, changing the subject back to topics that concerned him more. "How can he be stopped?"
"We cannot stop his plans," said Dameon. "We are nothing to him. His quarrel is with the seers. Our goal is to sneak in, get the mind soothe, and depart. Anything else is far beyond our powers--even with Credesar on our side. And yet our goal is far more critical than defeating a false god."
"But Jarvin hates me," said Kelden. "He's trying to kill me!"
"No," said Dameon. "He hates the fiend within you. Once Credesar is separated from your body, Jarvin will have no interest in you."
"Of course," said Kelden, feeling a surge of optimism. "Then I must go to Frindagan first. I must get rid of Credesar, before Jarvin's assassin kills me."
"I disagree," said Dameon. "Credesar's power is strong. I'm not sure we can breech the defenses of the lonely tower without him. Do you want to go into such a dangerous place with only your meager blood lore magic as protection?"
"No," said Kelden. "But I don't want a cold spear in my back, either. And right now the danger from assassination seems more immediate and real."
"Then learn to harness your power," said Dameon. "You can draw energy from Credesar. That much is obvious. Otherwise, you could never have summoned the Arnwolf. That sorcery should have been well beyond your capabilities."
"What do you mean?" said Kelden.
"It's very simple," Dameon replied. "I believe Credesar's energy has enhanced your own magic, allowing the Arnwolf to emerge decades before it should have. However, you cannot control the Arnwolf. Therefore, you must concentrate on the magic you can control. You have barely used your sorcery since you left Valganleer. You have not meditated. You have not trained."
"I don't have a teacher anymore," said Kelden. "It's too dangerous."
"Bah!" said Dameon. "A weak excuse. Life is full of danger--especially for you. Evolve, or perish. That is the choice you are faced with. You need to put aside your fear, and ignore the warnings the seers planted in your mind. It is time for you to reach deep within and call upon the power that is now yours to command. You must do it! Otherwise, I doubt we will succeed, and I am certain you will be dead long before we reach either the lonely tower or Frindagan."
Kelden lay back and sighed. "I was only making conversation. I'm going to Frindagan. Whether or not I undertake your mad quest after that will remain to be seen. But unless you find a better way to convince me, I won't be going to Iragantheos at all."
"You may change your mind," said Dameon, "when we reach Murakan. You will then cease to think of me as some mere crazy fool and start to realize my wisdom."
Kelden raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think that?"
Dameon did not reply