Read The Prophecy Page 9


  Chapter 7 – R’Tal

  Thacken Lodge was still and quiet. It was about an hour before sunrise and the lady of the house was already stirring. Bolli was gathering her fire-making materials to get the hearth lit again as her oaf of a husband had failed to properly bank it from last night. Naturally, it had gone out.

  Several floors above, in the farthest room away from the main hall, Steve’s eyes snapped open. Something had just jolted him out of a sound sleep. Had he heard something? Had he detected some type of movement in the room? With all his senses on high alert, he lay motionless next to Sarah. She, however, was still sound asleep.

  He rubbed his eyes. Sarah was a much lighter sleeper than he was, so since she didn’t wake up, then maybe he had just imagined it. That had to be it. If Sarah wasn’t concerned then he wasn’t concerned. Feeling the matter settled, he closed his eyes.

  He had just started to doze off when he felt a sharp tingle, but only for a split second. What was that? Fully awake again, he waited to see if it would happen again. Sure enough, a minute or two later he felt the sharp tingle again, and just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. The sensation was reminiscent of getting a charley horse. Not the actual charley horse but the sensations that lead up to getting one. What was going on?

  His jhorun started to awaken, sending his awareness to other areas of the lodge. His attention felt drawn down to the main hall. No, he corrected, that didn’t quite feel right. A room off of the main hall? Was it the kitchen? That was it. What’s going on in the kitchen?

  The sharp tingle returned a third time, lasted a moment or two longer than the others, and then vanished. Curiosity piqued, he quietly got out of bed, dressed, and exited the room. With as much stealth as the creaky wooden floor would allow, he descended the stairs down to the main hall. All was quiet and dark, although he did hear some movement coming from the back of the inn. Someone was moving around, cursing softly.

  Steve went up to the doorway and looked in to see Bolli angrily poking at one of her cooking hearths and attempting to coax a spark out of her nodule of flint. Throwing her stones down with disgust, she looked up and yelped with surprise.

  “For the love of all that is good and blessed!!” Bolli had slapped a hand over her heart. “Ye scared ten years right off me life! Steve, make noise, knock on the door, something!”

  “Sorry! Man alive, Bolli, I’m sorry. I heard noises, and I came to investigate. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay? Can I give you a hand with something?”

  “This fire is not cooperating. I cannot keep the spark burning. I tried using dried naka dung, I even tried my old fire starting sticks. Nothing. It burns for a moment, then before it can catch, a gust of wind blows it out. Damn all the winds and their makers.” She eyed Steve. “Ye can heat cauldrons. Can ye start fires?”

  Steve gently, but firmly, guided Bolli back away from the hearth moments before it blazed up, burning merrily as though it had been burning the entire night.

  Bolli visibly relaxed and even started to smile. “That be the second time you have come to my rescue. I will not forget it. As soon as I get breakfast cooking I will send up some up for ye and yer wife. Probably be in an hour or two.” She tossed a few more logs onto the fire. “All Thack had to do was bank the fire,” Bolli muttered in disgust. “Think he could remember to do that one simple task?” She looked at Steve and smiled. “Get some more sleep. I can take it from here.” She escorted him to the main hall and gently pushed him up the stairs.

  As Steve ascended, a sudden realization occurred. Were those sharp tingles Bolli’s attempts at starting a fire? Did that mean he could sense fire when he couldn’t even see it?

  Try it now, the ever-present voice in his head said.

  Activating his jhorun, he cast his awareness about. Standing motionless, he felt his jhorun being gently pulled downwards and off to the left. Straight to the kitchen, he presumed. Interesting! He also felt a small piece of his awareness being drawn to a room off the second floor. Apparently one of the soldiers had a fire going in their small hearth.

  Easing the door to their room open, he slipped back inside. It didn’t appear that Sarah had so much as moved an inch. Good. Looks like he had managed to avoid disturbing her. Undressing, he slipped back into bed. Sighing, he stretched out and felt himself becoming drowsy.

  “So where were you?” came the voice out of the dark.

  Smiling, Steve propped himself up on his elbow. “Should have known that wouldn’t have worked. I went down to the kitchen.”

  “You did? Why? Were you hungry or something?”

  “Would you believe that Bolli’s attempts at making a fire woke me up?”

  “Really? I didn’t hear anything. Was she making a lot of noise?”

  “Nope, no noise. I felt it. A sharper tingling than the jhorun. But much shorter and more brief.”

  Sarah considered, digesting this most recent bit of news regarding Steve’s jhorun. He could now detect the presence of other fires in the area? Did that mean since he could start fires so easily that any other attempts to create a fire alerted him?

  “What do you think it means?” Sarah asked him. “Someone tried to make a fire and it woke you up?”

  “That’s it, in a nutshell. What I’m supposed to learn from that I have no idea. What I can tell you is that I can actually sense other fires in this place. Like right now, for instance.” Steve paused a moment. “Bolli has the fire I started for her going good, and in fact,” he sent his jhorun down to the main floor to investigate, “she has started another fire from that one. It’s in the same room, but how close together, I can’t tell.”

  Amazement flooded Sarah. That was so cool! How was he doing it? He was able to determine that there were two fires were burning in the kitchen? How was he learning to control his abilities so quickly?

  “Anyway,” Steve continued, “I’m sorry I woke you up. On the bright side, Bolli is going to send some food up to us as soon as it’s cooked. I thought that was nice of her.”

  Nodding, Sarah said, “That is nice of her.” She looked at Steve, who was hoping to get another hour or so of sleep. Not today, dear. “I’m getting up. I want to clean myself up, and I want to try to wash our clothes. I have an idea.”

  Steve dozed off and on as Sarah washed, then took handfuls of the powdered soap, the pitcher of water, and the basin, and slowly and methodically washed their clothes. Once finished, she wrung as much water as she could out of them before waking up her snoring husband. Again.

  “Okay, hon, your turn. I need you to dry these.” She handed the soggy pile of clothes to her husband. Seeing him rubbing his eyes, and clearly not quite awake, she plopped them down on his lap.

  “Damn!” Fully awake, Steve held up the wet clothes. “What happened? Did you wash these already?”

  “You fell asleep. I’ll let that slide for now. I’ve washed them. You get to dry them.”

  “Dry them.” Steve repeated, chuckling. “I think I can handle that.”

  Ten minutes later, dressed in their clean, dry clothes, they were ready for the knock on the door. The same small serving boy again delivered a tray of food and drink. Without asking permission, Ellis silently moved over to the far wall and retrieved the dishes from last night’s dinner, quietly shutting the door behind him.

  “Doesn’t say much, but he’s efficient as hell.” Steve eyed the bottle on the new tray. “Are you kidding me? Wine for breakfast? Maybe they should consider joining Alcoholics Anonymous.”

  Sarah opened the bottle and sniffed the contents. “Smells non-alcoholic. I think you’re in luck.”

  Breakfasted, refreshed, and with their pack repacked, they made their way down the hall to pay their respects to Thacken and his wife. The burly proprietor was chatting with a soldier when he spotted his new friends.

  “Steve. Sarah. Slept well, did ye?”
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  “We did, thanks,” Sarah answered. “We sure do appreciate the food you sent up. Both times actually.”

  “Good deeds are rewarded in this house, I can assure ye. Bolli is busy in the back, but she told me what ye did for her early this morning, Steve. She made this for the two of ye.” He held out several tightly wrapped packages of varying sizes. “This should see you to R’Tal. Good journey to the both of ye. Thanks again for yer help.”

  Steve grasped his arm with his, giving a friendly shake. “You’re welcome. Please convey our thanks to your wife.” He hefted the wrapped packages. “This was very thoughtful of her.”

  “If ye come by this way again, stop by t’ say hello, will ye?”

  “We will,” Sarah assured him.

  Stepping out into the bright daylight, Steve hoisted the pack on his back and looked around. The village was just starting to awaken. Local merchants were already setting up their carts to display their wares to passing onlookers. Taking Sarah’s hand, he guided them through the maze of clay pottery, bolts of fabric, and carts of various fruit and produce.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” Sarah asked.

  “Yep. That way.” Steve pointed past the swarm of merchants. “We’re heading towards the river.” Gesturing in the direction of all the eager salesmen, he chuckled. “Don’t look ‘em in the eye, don’t smile at ‘em, and maybe we’ll get through with our lives.”

  Sarah laughed. “I wish I had some of the local currency. I’d love to buy a few things. You know, support the local economy.”

  One merchant, a silversmith, overheard her remark and quickly selected a green crystal pendant on a silver chain. Catching Sarah’s eye, he handed her the necklace. “A pretty necklace for a pretty lady!”

  Sarah smiled warmly at the salesman. “Thank you, sir, but I cannot pay at this time. Another time perhaps.” She moved to return the necklace.

  The jewelry was gently pushed back into her hands. “Take it. Wear it with pride. If ye be asked who made it, tell them Kahtro o’ Donlari, finest silversmith this side o’ the Zylan River! Can ye do that for me? An’ ye can, then the necklace belongs to ye.”

  The generous merchant was rewarded with one of Sarah’s million dollar smiles. She slid the chain over her neck and admired the pendant. The cabochon was of the purest green, shining brilliantly in the sun. She showed her new jewelry to Steve. “This is beautiful. A truly masterful work. Kahtro of Donlari, I’ll tell everyone I see about the amazing silversmith who can make such beautiful things.”

  The merchant flushed with pride. “That is all I ask, milady.”

  Once they were out of earshot, Steve looked at Sarah. “Keep flashing those pearly whites. We can probably get all kinds of cool stuff here.”

  She playfully smacked his arm. “I’m not looking for any freebies here. These merchants need to make a living. I’m halfway tempted to buy something and cash in this grif.”

  “And how do you know you won’t be hosed by some greedy salesman?”

  “True. I guess we really don’t know how much our grif will buy. We could be cheated and not know it.”

  The activity in the street steadily increased until husband and wife were forced to walk one in front of the other, with Steve forging a path through the bustling throng of people. Villagers had come from all around to barter for various goods; housewives browsed for the freshest produce, farmers inspected new tools, and small children shrieked with delight as they ran from cart to cart.

  A small skirmish broke out as one child tried to snatch a shiny trinket from a cart laden with rings and necklaces. Unfortunately for the would-be thief, the owner of the tiny shop, having years of experience with street rats, had been watching this particular little monster since he had started eyeing potential marks. The hand snaked out and grabbed the medallion, but the shop owner was quicker. Shaking the youngster by the arm, drawing him up and away from his prized wares, he forcefully snatched the jewelry back from the bawling brat. Flinging the crying child away from his cart, he turned to discover that four more necklaces had been pilfered, thanks to the rest of the brat’s gang.

  They could still hear the curses from the merchant as they finally reached the outskirts of the village and approached the steadily flowing river. Once there, they stepped back onto the enchanted road and continued east towards the Lentarian capital city of R’Tal.

  As they walked, they continued to pass merchants and villagers alike, all who smiled at them and tipped their caps. There were even a few passing soldiers who nodded in their direction, preventing Steve from having to present the captain’s dagger.

  This is a nice place to live, Sarah thought; a much simpler way of life exists here. The people here are friendly, courteous. Citizens of this kingdom, whom they didn’t know, had taken them in for the night. For the entire night! How many people would do that in her neighborhood back home? The village they just left clearly had a strong economy, with merchants coming far and wide to trade their goods. Law and order seemed to be well established, so clearly the king and queen were doing a good job governing their people. She was starting to see why her husband’s grandparents spent so much time here as opposed to their own world.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Steve said.

  “Honestly? That I could see why your grandparents spent a lot of time here. All appearances suggest that this is a peaceful kingdom. The people are friendly. And the king and queen here had given them positions with responsibility. They must have felt important here.”

  Steve frowned. “I still think family should come first, but then again, I can see your point. To tell the truth, this wouldn’t be a bad place to live.”

  Not being accustomed to using one’s legs as the main method of transportation, the predicted one day journey to R’Tal, Steve recalculated, was going to end up taking them a day and a half. Disheartened, he started looking for a suitable place to camp for the night. His legs were on fire and he had developed a stitch in his side, but was determined to not let Sarah see how much he was in discomfort. Sarah, on the other hand, was starting to come in to her traveling legs. She was walking at a steady pace, had regulated her breathing, and was generally fine. Being the astute observer that she was, she had noted Steve’s labored breathing and an overall decrease in his pace. Time to find a place to rest for the night.

  With the sun setting, and dusk starting to set in, they came upon a small clearing surrounded by large oak trees. Without knowing what the other was thinking, both simultaneously decided they were done traveling for the day. Grinning at each other, Steve took off the pack and leaned it against the closest tree. Stretching his back, he looked up at the darkening sky.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

  Sarah gestured at some nearby stones. “If you make me a fire I’ll see about heating up whatever it is that Bolli left us.”

  Steve grunted. “Deal.”

  Minutes later, with the fire blazing, Sarah sorted through the various packages given to her by the innkeeper’s wife. She carefully unwrapped a package that appeared to be a dried brick of something. Studying the solidified substance closely, she discovered dried vegetables and chunks of meat. It was soup! She could fix this. She just needed to add some water and heat it up. Retrieving the small sauce pot given to them by Nilhanu, she added some water from the river and was ready to drop in the brick of soup when she abruptly stopped and stared at the clear water swishing around in the pan.

  Noting Sarah’s sudden cessation of movement, Steve glanced her way. Walking over, he looked in the pot.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “What if there are germs and bacteria and stuff in this water? I don’t want to make us sick using contaminated river water. I mean,” she hesitated, “animals could have, you know, pooped in this water.”

  Steve started to laugh out loud but sobered as he thought about
it. Coming to a decision, he gently took the pot from his wife and started heating the water. It only took about ten seconds to bring it to a full boil. Maintaining the heat for a minute or so, he then pulled his jhorun back, allowing the pot to cool. Once it was safe enough to touch, he returned it to his wife.

  “There you go. All sterilized.”

  Smiling warmly at her husband, she gingerly felt the pot and its handle before taking it back. Perfectly cool to the touch. Hoping it was the right amount of water, she dropped in the block of dried soup. She moved to put the pot on the fire when she discovered the next problem: there wasn’t any way to heat the pot without having to place it directly on the fire. Not only that, there wasn’t even a flat surface to balance the pot on. What was she supposed to do? Continuously hold the pot over the fire? Thinking back to watching some of those outdoor cooking shows she was fond of, she tried to remember those that had been cooked by campfire. If memory served, there was usually some type of contraption that held the pot safely over the fire. She looked back to her husband, raising an eyebrow in the process. Noting Steve’s inquiring look, she held up the pot and looked at the fire. Steve wandered over.

  “How the hell did people in medieval times not starve?” Steve peered around the fire, looking for a place to put the pot. He sighed. “Oh, well, what the hell.” He ignited his right hand and held it under the pot. Within moments, their dinner was cooking, right in his hand. Humming to himself, he watched as the solid thing in the pot broke up. It was clumping in the middle, not really mixing too well with the water.

  “Hey, do you have something to stir this with?”

  “Nilhanu gave me a wooden spoon. Don’t move.”

  He furrowed his brow. Don’t move? What was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly, a wooden spoon materialized in his left hand, which was hooked in his jeans pocket. His left hand instinctively grabbed it before it fell. He grinned.

  “That’s cool! You’ve been practicing?”

  “Yes, I have. That one was actually a test. I knew that spoon was in the pack, but I didn’t know exactly where. I just ordered it to move to your hand. And it worked!!”

  Steve’s smile was unmistakable. Without knowing for certain that she could use her jhorun in that manner, she attempted anyway, and voila! She must have been practicing that demonstration for a while now.

  “How long have you been working on that little move?”

  “Honestly, about five minutes.” Steve’s jaw dropped. Sarah continued. “You mentioned that you needed something to stir the soup with. I knew we had the spoon, and didn’t feel like digging through the pack to get it. So I thought I’d give it a try.”

  Steve smiled again, pride for his wife emanating from every pore he had.

  “But I have been practicing on other things. For instance, I’m pretty sure I can do this. Watch this.” Sarah closed her eyes and was silent for a few seconds.

  Steve waited. Nothing was happening.

  “What are you doing?”

  Sarah opened her eyes, glancing down at her feet. Letting out a small squeal of delight, she picked up a little piece of something at her feet. She presented it to her husband, placing the little bit of metal in his hand. He studied it for a few minutes.

  “And this is what exactly?”

  Sarah clapped her hands. “That’s the piece of metal I found in that cellar where we were held prisoner. I thought might help us escape, but didn’t have any sharp edges.”

  “As in when we were prisoners in that smelly cellar?”

  Sarah nodded. Steve’s mouth fell open in disbelief. That meant that thing she was holding came all the way from that thief’s shabby little house! How far away was that, anyway? Steve thought for a moment. He really didn’t have any idea how far they had traveled, but still, Sarah’s most recent feat of accomplishment was very impressive.

  “How’d you know you could do it?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not too sure. It was something that I felt, something that I knew I could do. I thought about those last moments we were in that cellar, and I knew that little piece of metal was still likely to be there.”

  “But you didn’t know exactly where it was!” Steve pointed out. “How could you transport something if you didn’t know if it was still there?” He paused, still struggling to understand how Sarah was able to pull that piece of metal out of thin air. Clearly her mastery over her jhorun was increasing, developing new techniques to bend her jhorun to her will. Wondering what else she might be able to do, he started scouting around their makeshift campsite, looking for small items to experiment on.

  Sarah knew that she had to nip this in the bud. She was tired, hungry, and desperate for a back rub. As eager as she was to discover what else her jhorun might be able to do, she wanted to be able to relax more.

  “Hon, come on, let this go for now, okay? We can both practice later. How’s the soup coming?”

  “The what?” He glanced down into the pot he was still holding. “Oh yeah, the soup.” Hastily stirring the contents and reapplying the heat he had let lapse, the soup thickened, releasing the enticing aroma of seasoned meat, veggies, and who knew what else. Either way, it was smelling pretty damn good.

  Banking the fire to last well through the night, Steve and Sarah snuggled close together. Looking up at the twinkling stars, Steve counted no fewer than ten shooting stars within just a couple of minutes. Always having an interest in astronomy, he started looking carefully at the clusters of stars, searching for any similarities to the night sky he was accustomed to. Was that Ursus Major? Nope, not unless the Big Dipper had expanded its basin from four anchor stars to nine. The shape was close, though.

  He looked to the west, watching as the last colors of the sunset drained from the sky. There was a group of stars there that looked vaguely familiar. Must be those three prominent belt stars, reminding him of one of the most recognizable constellations from his world, namely the constellation of Orion. However, try as he may, he couldn’t identify any constellations in the sky.

  Sarah was snoring softly into his shoulder. Determined to stay awake long enough to ascertain nothing threatening was in the area, Steve decided to count all the bright stars he could see in the sky. Counting stars being akin to counting sheep, he was out before he reached the count of ten.