Fifthwind (37 page)

He
rolled to the side and came to his feet to square off against the
last swordsman. This man was no fool and assumed a defensive stance,
waiting for Ben to make the first move. Ben's covered eyes itched
with the sweat from his brow, but despite his heavy breathing he was
pleased to face down the last man.

Ben's
first strike was met with a solid parry that exposed his shoulder to
a quick slash that stung and bled. He stepped back and reevaluated
his rival; this man was skilled... and patient. It would take more
than simple surprise tactics to best him. He launched a low but
strong slash toward the swordsman's legs, but the man pivoted into
the path and continued to rotate, putting his full weight into a
backhanded fist to the side of Ben's head.

Ben
staggered back with his temple throbbing and his head swimming. The
man's face was an unemotional mask of resolve as he rapidly stepped
up to take advantage of Ben's momentary disorientation. Ben was
directly in the path of the charging soldier, and in no position to
get his defenses in place. A ripple of energy tugged at his mind in a
familiar way, and built into an alarming surge of force. While he had
occupied himself with the last swordsman, the bloody-faced axeman had
regained his feet and thrown his weapon. The hurled projectile he
sensed from behind would reach him long before the sword in front
would.

Ben
only had a single option available to him. He dropped instantly to
the floor and covered his head as the thrown ax passed over him and
met an unintended mark. He looked up into the horrified eyes of the
swordsman who clutched at his chest and the ax buried there. He
dropped his sword and staggered down to one knee.

Ben
rushed to his side and helped lower him to the floor. There was
nothing he could do but grip the dying soldiers hand and ease his
passing. The man tried to speak, but did not have air in his lungs
with which to talk.

Through
heavy breaths, Ben said, "You fought bravely and with honor." He
continued to hold the man until his grip loosened, then Ben laid him
back gently on the floor and stood.

He
retrieved his own sword from the floor and turned his attention to
the unarmed axeman. His eyes were covered, but his intent was painted
on his enraged face.

The
trembling coward cried out in protest, "You can't kill! You
promised not to kill!"

He
marched with heavy feet to the man and lifted his sword to strike.
The man reached out to those around him seeking a weapon, but the
crowd pulled back with murmurs of '
Grim-D'ur
'; there would be
no interference... there would be no help.

Ben
walked the man backward until he was pinned against the wall. He
pushed the tip of his blade into the base of the man's throat and
tried hard to think of a reason to not continue until his sword met
the wall behind. The room became still as all present awaited the
outcome.

He
pulled off his blindfold and glared into the eyes of the frightened
soldier. "He died by your hand, not mine! Give me one reason I
should not kill you!"

The
man blinked twice and stuttered an inaudible response. All eyes were
on Ben as time slowed to a halt, awaiting the judgment of the victor
in Grim-D'ur.

After
an eternity, Ben said, "What was his name?"

Through
bloodied lips, the toothless man rasped, "Jerod. His name was
Jerod."

Cobalius
stepped forward and placed a small sack of coins in the shaking man's
hands. "Everyone should lift a drink in his memory. Don't you
agree?"

Ben
lowered his sword and stepped back as the axeman quickly rubbed away
the phantom wound on his throat. Ben turned to Cobalius and lowered
his head. "I couldn't save him."

Cobalius
gripped Ben's shoulder and nodded. "You fought today with a good
conscience and nobility. You have honored The Fahd by observing the
sanctity of life. What has happened here today is not your fault."

Ben
did not answer.

"It's
time we departed. Do you remember what you learned at Merrick's? I'll
meet you out back."

Fahd
Cobalius turned and addressed the entire tavern. "The Fahd did not
start this quarrel, and a man lies dead because of unwarranted hatred
toward a man none of you have ever met. The color of his uniform, or
the accent on his lips is not reason to judge a man. It's time you
drop your past aggressions and live as honorable men."

He
moved to the center of the room and knelt before the dead man,
offering a quiet prayer. Slowly and with deliberation he stood and
spoke, "The wars of the past are over. You will be faced with new
challenges that will require the courage and unity of all people. Not
all enemies of men will announce themselves with colors or flags.
Gather your brothers, put aside your differences and hold true to
honor. The Fahd will be watching!"

Cobalius
nodded once to Ben and the two vanished. Ben opened his eyes to a
sooty sky and sheathed his sword. The street behind the tavern was
relatively empty. Only a few passersby glanced in their direction
when the two men made their sudden appearance, not certain of what
they had seen. Cobalius straightened his shirt and looked back over
his shoulder. "That last bit should keep them talking for a while.
It's not everyday they get to see a disappearing act."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Ben
followed quietly behind Fahd Cobalius as they made their way through
the narrow alleys and winding streets of Eskerwold. Thoughts ran
through his head, untangling the prejudices that he had not known
controlled such a big part of him, even though he knew that he was
not a bad person and would never hate a man for no reason. Many of
the barriers he had built up over his lifetime had been torn down
during his stay with Merrick and his wife. Today, in the faces of the
men he had fought, he had glimpsed an image of who he once was.

He
thought he would be sick. Not so much about a man losing his life
because of an unwarranted hatred for another; he had seen plenty of
that during the war. It was that it had occurred during a carefully
contrived test. A test that was not only meant to evaluate his own
skill, but also to demonstrate the flawed character of the soldiers.
Fahd Cobalius had made his point clear, and a man was now dead. He
did not blame Cobalius for what had happened, but it pained him that
people were inherently reluctant to change and only through hard
lessons would they learn.

He
stopped for a moment and wondered if the event would have played out
any differently had it occurred in the Masked Pig and with a Tanian
officer alone in a strange land. It did not take long for him to see
that the results would have been exactly the same. Kreggorian
soldiers would have accepted nothing less than the death of an enemy
in their midst. It was obvious to him why The Fahd no longer wanted
any part of either side. What Cobalius had called '
The whims of
ambitious men'
translated easily as simple human ignorance. He
was pleased to know that there were at least some who did not fall
victim to such whims. The Fahd were above that.

Cobalius
apparently saw the grief in Ben's eyes and said, "Good men
sometimes die. I do not know if Jerod was a good man, his heart was
unknown to me, but his death was not by your hands."

Ben
said, "It doesn't matter by whose hand, he still did not have to
die."

"The
same can be said for tens of thousands of men who lost their lives
during the war. Quick, get inside." Cobalius ducked through a small
doorway in a nondescript wall halfway down a little-traveled alley.

The
door opened into a small courtyard bordered by high walls and thorny
green shrubbery, the first real sign of plant life Ben had seen since
arriving in Eskerwold. The tiny nook was open to the sky, but only
about five paces wide. It was like being in a deep well, except for
the single door on the opposite wall which Cobalius approached and
rapped on gently with the back of his gloved hand.

At
first there was no response, but then Ben heard movement on the other
side of the door accompanied by nervous whispers. A small window
opened with a snap, and a pair of bloodshot eyes peered out. "Go
away!"

Cobalius
reached up and grabbed the sliding shutter before it could close. He
forced the window back open and said, "We're here to see Mott."

"Never
heard of him. Now, off with you!"

"I
am Fahd Cobalius, and this is my apprentice." He let go of the
small panel which then slapped shut. A magpie that had been nesting
in the ivy above the door fluttered away at the sudden sound and once
it was gone above the rooftops, Ben and Cobalius found themselves
alone and ignored in the quiet courtyard.

Cobalius
stepped back and cupped his hands behind his back. He looked skyward
at the clouds and started to hum a simple tune. If he were at all
disconcerted, he did not show it. Ben, on the other hand, was
wondering what had just happened, and how long he would have to stand
there to find out. A moment later, the door creaked open and a small
man with a crooked spine hurried out, grabbed them both and ushered
them inside.

"Were
you followed?" he said, cocking his head upward to look at Cobalius
from his permanently hunched posture.

"No,"
said Cobalius.

"How
can you be sure?"

Cobalius
grinned. "Because you would not have let us in if we had been."

The
little man cackled a raspy laugh. "You know our ways too well, I
think. Come with me."

They
were led down a stone hallway; all the structures in Eskerwold were
made of the same dark stone. The three men made two turns and
continued for quite some time down a narrow passage that was open to
the sky by a small sliver of space high above.

Ben
realized that they were not inside, but weaving through the narrow
and forgotten spaces between the buildings. These were less than
alleys and were, at places, only wide enough to slip through by
turning sideways and sucking in the midsection. Soon they came to a
dead end.

Their
guide moved to an iron grate set in the pavement and pulled up on its
corner to reveal an opening below. There were no words spoken and
they followed the small man down into a dark recess that looked like
a drain of some kind. There were iron ladder rungs bolted to the
walls of the deep descent, and in the darkness below, Ben heard the
hollow trickle of underground water. Wonderful, Ben thought, he was
being led into a sewer.

Once
at the bottom, the man lit two torches that showed the space to be
rather sizable but bare, then he turned and climbed back out.

He
called down from above with a harsh whisper that echoed against the
smooth walls of the chamber below. "Mott will be with you before
morning."

Ben
listened to the sound of the iron grate dragging against the stones
above and flinched when it was dropped into place with an echo
reminiscent of a dungeon gate being slammed. There was something
ominously permanent about that sound, as if there would be no going
back. Ben realized, that in many ways, it was true that he could
never return to the life he once had.

"Morning?"
Ben asked, "but it's only mid-afternoon."

"Good
news indeed," Cobalius said, and sat against the wall in the dry
corner of the space. "On my last visit, I waited for a week."

"Who
is Mott?"

"Someone
who has the answers."

"Answers
to what?"

"Everything."

Cobalius
did not offer any further explanation, curled up against the wall,
and pulled his cloak over his eyes. Ben suddenly realized just how
tired he was and did not bother to protest. Sleep would pass the time
and refresh his senses. He found himself a dry spot in the adjacent
corner and snuggled into the caress of the stone which proved to be
warmer than he expected. It was not the first time he had bedded down
in an unusual place. At least the air was not too foul. Moments later
he was sleeping.

Sometime
during the night, Ben awoke to total darkness, and the murmurs of
soft voices that half-carried him from one dream to the next. He
thought the memory was real, but then again, he also had a dream
about a Griffin eating an apple from his hand while a crazy old man
pelted him with walnuts. The dark recess was cold and he pulled his
knees up to his chest and wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He
would have given anything for a fire to keep warm by, but there was
no hope of that now. Shivering in the dark, he tried to relax and
again settled into sleep when the image of Kyla came to visit him.
She was safe and happy and shared her bright eyes and smile with him
in his quiet cell on the other side of the world.

"Get
up!" came a voice that interrupted his pleasant slumber. "What
brings you here?"

Ben
got to his feet quickly and gave a quick apologetic bow before he
really knew where he was. Fahd Cobalius was already awake and moving
toward the figure on the dimmer side of the small, damp room.

"It's
good to see you again, Mott."

The
figure stepped from the shadows and squinted at Cobalius. Mott
appeared to be an old woman, and behind her was a wooden door in the
wall that had not been there the night before. Once Cobalius got
closer, a spark of recognition lit up the old woman's face and she
smiled a big toothy smile like a woman seeing her grandchild for the
first time in years.

"Fahd
Cobalius," she beamed, rushing up to give him a hug. "The last
time I saw you, you were heading down to the Island Kingdom of
Meirnac."

"I
was, until I came across a troubling situation in a tiny town called
Kishell Springs, in Eastern Kreggoria."

"I
know where it is. Have you forgotten to whom you speak? But it does
explain why I lost track of you." Mott turned a quizzical eye to
Ben as he approached. "I see you picked up an apprentice as well.
His name is Bennick if I'm not mistaken."