Jalia on the Road (Jalia - World of Jalon) (14 page)

When she got back to the courtyard, Jalia walked passed Daniel’s donkeys, which were still laden with trade goods. She had mounted her horse before she decided the donkeys should come too. She tied the lead donkey’s rope to her saddle and set off down the street feeling conspicuous. Her instincts as a thief suggested a less visible withdrawal.

When Yousef’s servant entered his master’s room with coffee and fruit he saw at once he had been robbed. He was about to cry out for help when Yousef stopped him. “Don’t, I deserved this. Just help me to my feet.”

Jalia asked the first person she saw the way to the Toxeth Villa. The man gave her directions and warned her how dangerous the family were. He was offended when she laughed. As she rode away dragging Daniel’s recalcitrant donkey train behind her he shook his head in disbelief at her wanton foolishness.

The villa was massive and its gates tall and imposing. Two brutish men stood in front of the gates carrying heavy cudgels in their hands. Jalia tied her horse and the donkey train to a hitching post near the gates and walked up to the men. They patted their cudgels against the palms of their hands, giving her both searching and appreciative looks.

One of the men moved behind her while the first blocked her way. They made ready to hit her or let her enter, whichever proved the more appropriate.

“I’ve come to see the leader of the Toxeth Clan.”

“Glal doesn’t see sluts without appointment,” the bigger of the two replied.

Jalia drew her sword with one hand and Daniel’s dagger with the other. The men reacted far too slowly. Jalia slit the throat of the man behind her with the dagger in a single slash, while her sword knocked the cudgel out of the hand of the man in front. She forced him back against the gate. Her sword point rested lightly against his throat as he heard the other guard drop to his knees, blood spurting relentlessly from the fingers he wrapped around his neck.

“Please, don’t kill me.” The guard against the gate gasped, his face white as his friend slumped to the ground and lay still.

“How do you get the gate open?” Jalia asked, her sword point moving lazily in small circles a hair’s width away from his throat.

“I have to call the password. If I do it, Glal Toxeth will kill me.”

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you right now. It’s your choice.” Jalia stepped a foot or so back and indicated he should turn and face the gate. Her sword point pressed against his back, out of sight of anyone looking from the gate.

“Toxeth Rule,” he said in a loud voice. “The Lord Toxeth has an important visitor.”

A small wooden slot opened in the gate and an eye stared out at the guard. Jalia moved so the eye could see her face, but not the sword in her hand. She smiled in an eager way.

The slot closed and Jalia heard the sound of bolts being drawn. The gate opened and a small man sidled out, pushing the gate open behind him.

Jalia hit the guard on the back of his head with the pommel of her sword before tackling the little man. For such a small man he reacted rapidly, pulling his own sword and parrying her blow. The fight lasted thirty seconds or so. He proved good with a sword, so Jalia had no choice but to gut him with a trick move she learned from her instructor when she was ten.

The little man looked down at his spilling guts in astonishment. He tried to hold them in, dropping his sword in the process and falling to the ground. Jalia stepped over his body and entered the courtyard beyond the gate.

The Toxeth Villa was a large group of connected stone buildings one of which was a stable. Jalia heard a yell coming from the stable and ran to its door. She inched the door open and peered inside.

Two men held Daniel by the arms. A third man stood in front of him clutched at his groin. A red-hot branding iron in the shape of an S rocked on the dirt floor. Jalia surmised Daniel had kicked the man in the family jewels as he attempted to brand him. She slid inside the stable, closing the door, and hid behind a barrel to watch.

Daniel made his legs limp so the men holding him were pulled down. Then he pushed up, putting all his strength into the thrust. One of the men lost his grip and Daniel swung around and kneed the man holding him in the groin. The man continued to hold him for a couple of seconds before dropping to the floor.

The other man rushed at Daniel, grabbing him in a bear hug and lifting him off the ground. Daniel used the man’s weight against him by leaning backwards as he was lifted and the man stumbled backwards and lost his grip.

Daniel rolled away and stood, looking around for a weapon. The man who had tried to brand him had recovered and once again held the branding iron, thrusting it forward like a dagger forcing Daniel back. Daniel kicked at a leg of the brazier, tipping it over and scattering red-hot coals between him and the man with the branding iron. The man retreated as the other two got to their feet..

The three men regrouped and prepared to attack. But their efforts came to nothing as an unseen force ripped the weapons from their hands and pushed them back against the wall.

“Witchcraft,” one of them said angrily

“I hope you’re not implying I look like a witch,” Jalia said as he moved into sight. “I would have to take strong action against a man who called me a witch.” She looked expectantly at the men, but they stayed silent.

Daniel crouched over with his hands on his knees, trying to recover his breath. “Have you been here long?”

“It was a pretty good show and I didn’t want to interrupt you. But they were armed and you weren’t.” Jalia pulled Daniel’s dagger and sheath from her belt and threw them to him. He caught them and grinned at her as he tied the sheath to his belt and drew the dagger.

The voice made them jump. An enormous man stood at the door, with many men with swords just behind him. They looked as if they knew how to use them.

“This boy is my property,” the massive man repeated, now that he had their attention.

“Not very likely,” Jalia retorted, “I bought him from his brother Yousef over a year ago and he has been on the road with me since.”

“I have a deed of ownership,” the fat man continued and waved a piece of parchment at her, “What do you have little girl?”

Jalia whispered a command and a whip detached itself from the wall and whipped the ground less than an inch from the big man’s feet. He didn’t flinch.

“Unless you and your men would like to be whipped by my invisible companions I suggest you let us go.” Jalia smiled at the man, “It would be the wise thing to do.”

“I suppose I could retrieve my money from Yousef,” The man said as a second and third whip joined the first to hang in midair before him. “Or perhaps my men could cut your invisible men to shreds.” He made a gesture and the men moved forward.

Daniel said something in a whisper and his dagger whipped from his hand and fell upon the men, cutting their belts so their trousers fell down. Two fell over; the others clutched at their trousers, dropping their swords in the process. Daniel’s dagger flew back to his hand.

“It appears I am at a disadvantage,” the fat man said, gesturing to his men to fall back. He bowed to them. “My name is Glal Toxeth and I am sure we will meet again some day. Perhaps that time, the tables will be turned.” He gestured and one of his men ran to open the barn door. “Please feel free to leave.”

Daniel and Jalia made their way cautiously to the door, alert to the possibility of a trick, but Glal Toxeth’s men moved aside as they approached. Jalia stopped by Glal and ripped the deed from his hand. “I’ll have this, if you don’t mind.”

Some of Toxeth’s men stepped forward, but again Glal made a gesture and they stopped. “Until we meet again, my dear,” he said pleasantly, but it was clear he was seething with rage. Daniel and Jalia retreated from the villa as quickly as they could.

Out on the trade road a few hours later, Daniel stopped his donkeys near a rock big enough to sit on and gestured Jalia to come over to him. She pulled out Daniel’s leather purse from her saddle bag and Yousef’s silk cushion. She threw them at Daniel saying, “A couple of presents for you.”

Daniel put the silk pad over his knees and grabbed Jalia, pulling her on top of the cushion. Lifting her skirt out of the way he started to spank her hard enough to bring a curse to her lips.

“What’s this for? Now you just STOP!”

“I’m captured and about to be branded and all you can think of is to steal my money back. You even steal my brother’s one respite from unbearable pain. What about me? Did you even care?”

Jalia struggled to get free, but he anticipated her moves and held her fast.

“Oh, I did, Daniel, I did. But your dagger was much too important to leave with him and I wanted to punish him. I wanted to make him suffer for selling you into slavery.” Daniel relaxed his grip and Jalia levered herself up to sit on Daniel’s lap. She felt warm and tingly in his arms.

“How did he get that injury anyway? You never told me
exactly
how it happened?” Jalia leaned towards Daniel and snuggled into his chest.

“I saved his life when we were captured by slavers and he wanted to know how I did it. He beat me until I was willing to tell him and then he didn’t believe me.”

“And…” Jalia prompted.

“Well, there he was, holding the dagger.” Daniel stopped his story and dropped the dagger to the ground so it would not respond to his commands, “And then he said ‘Magic Sword, my ass.’ Well you know how literal the dagger is, so it flew from his hand and stuck right up his…”

Jalia convulsed with laughter, Daniel kissed her forehead as she held him. They remained locked in a loving embrace for a long time.

Jalia and Daniel left the area in a hurry, making good their escape. Daniel’s donkeys were still laden with the trade goods bought for the markets of Delbon. While the goods would have commanded high prices in the city it was not clear they would sell well anywhere else. The typical villager of Jalon rarely had money for exotic spices, for example.

Daniel had spent the last few years trading the golden triangle, defined by the trade routes between the cities of Delbon, Bagdor and Enbar Entar. He once traveled much further east to the ancient city of
Akbar Arout
. It was at the end of the known world, being sandwiched between the steep sides of the
High
Mountains
to the east and the endless deserts of Atribar el’Dou to the south. But he had never traveled to the west or to the fabled cities of the north. Nobody traveled those roads these days.

The companions could not return to Bagdor or go back to Enbar Entar, so Daniel led Jalia further west, into territory he only knew from the descriptions given by old traders who still remembered their journeys to Ballis and beyond.

“Look, Jalia.” Daniel grabbed a stick and drew a long line in the sandy soil. “If Enbar Entar is at the eastern end of this line, Delbon would be near the middle and far to the west is the city of
Ballis
. Beyond Ballis are the coastal towns of Gal Nee and Gal Hoe, which lie on the coast of the
Endless
Sea
. To the
north west
of the line is Ranwin, also known as the City of
Glass
. We can go west to Ballis or north to Ranwin. The road we are taking is met by one going north to Ranwin a couple of days travel from here.”

Jalia considered their options before making her mind up. They both knew it was her choice to make.

“Let’s go to Ballis. Maybe once we have been there we can go on to one of the towns by the sea.” Jalia’s voice turned wistful, “I’ve never seen the sea and my mother told me she came from a place by the sea.”

Thus a decision was made and they carried on traveling west. The trade road was empty of people and overgrown with no signs of wheel ruts or the recent passage of beasts of burden. They had seen no one since they left Delbon.

The golden age of trade was past and the city-states were drawing into themselves. Only a decade ago, the road they traveled on would have been crowded with traders. Attacks by raiders and slavers had thinned the ranks of those willing to risk their lives on such a long and arduous journey.

Two mornings later, Daniel was awakened by the sound of Jalia screaming. He ran to her side, dagger in hand, believing they must be under attack. When he reached her side, he found she was clutching her lower jaw, which was swollen on one side. Daniel carefully pried Jalia’s hands from her face and got her to open her mouth so he could take a look.

“You have an enormous abscess in your jaw.”

“No kidding,” Jalia said in what was supposed to be a sarcastic response. It came out rather differently, sounding like
‘snow kithing’
because of her swollen cheek, which reduced its impact.

Such an infection could prove fatal if not treated promptly and they were far away from civilization. Daniel racked his brains trying to remember where the nearest village might be found. He made a habit of asking old traders about their travels believing such information might on day be useful. Now the day had arrived and his mind was blank.

Jalia attempted to stand and discovered that, though her legs wobbled, she could still manage a few steps. With great effort she managed to steady herself and staggered off to her horse. There was nothing much she could do except to act as normally as she could. She asked the magic ring to fix her abscess, but as Daniel had warned her, magic objects had no power to heal.

“Thucking useleth ring,” she moaned as the pain bit into her.

“Drun Hill,” Daniel shouted to the world. “We can reach Drun Hill today if we get a move on.”

“Werth Thrun Hill?”

“Drun Hill is a village about eight miles west and the same distance north along the road to Ranwin, if we can find it. They may have a healer in the village.” With that cheerful comment ringing in her ears, Daniel led them down the road further west. The country they traveled through was scrubland, changing to light forest when they looked north.

They could see at most only a couple of miles and Daniel would have to locate the right point to turn off. This was not going to be easy with the roads in such poor condition. Even keeping on the trail to Ballis required tracking skills as a lot of the roads features had disappeared.

Sixteen miles may not seem far, but a trader typically averaged two miles an hour or less. Daniel urged his donkeys to a faster pace than he would normally have set. Jalia sat listlessly on her horse. Her face was throbbing and she had trouble focusing her eyes as poison from the abscess seeped into her bloodstream.

Daniel knew the abscess should be lanced, but the thought of sticking a knife into Jalia’s face through flesh and possibly bone made him feel like vomiting. They had to find someone with the right skills.

They made good progress, mainly because the weather was favorable, high summer was turning to autumn and it was pleasantly cool.

Sometime before noon, Daniel turned right and headed out into the tall grasses and stunted trees. If there was a sign of a trail, it was beyond Jalia’s ability to see. She pulled her horse to a halt and shouted at Daniel. “Hath youth gonth crazith? Wherth th trail?”

The effort caused her so much pain that she collapsed onto her horse’s mane. Daniel ran back to help her.

“It’s all right, Jalia. I’m following the landmarks of that small hill in the distance and the larger one you can see behind it and to the left. When they are aligned as they are now, we have reached the start of the road north. I know what I’m doing.”

Daniel took the reins of Jalia’s horse and led them out into the sea of grass. The only thing he was actually certain about was that nobody else had come this way in a long time.

Daniel stopped to give Jalia water, which dribbled from the side of her mouth. She recovered a little as they continued their journey, perhaps because they came to an ancient stone bridge over a river, which at least showed they were on the road.

An hour of travelling later, the grassland turned to forest. When they entered beneath the trees, the road became visible for the first time. In ancient times someone had laid great slabs of stone to create a causeway and though the stones only showed in places beneath dirt, they still prevented the trees of the forest from encroaching. Daniel saw with a sense of awe that an oak tree that must be hundreds of years old had tilted up one of the outer slabs. The road must have been from the age of the Magician Kings.

They made better progress on the relatively smooth stone. The branches of the trees formed a canopy over their heads, which made it cooler and easier to travel at speed.

Eventually they saw a lake in the distance, seemingly the road ran straight into it. Daniel wondered whether the road continued through the lake or whether the lake had existed at the time of the road builders. The lake was a sign that they had almost reached Drun Hill. He had been told the village was on the top of a small hill overlooking a vast lake.

As they got closer to the lake, the sounds of malicious laughter and jeering reached their ears. Jalia forced herself to sit straighter in the saddle. She knew the sound of trouble when she heard it. She reached over her shoulder and released the leather strap that stopped her sword from falling out of its scabbard while she traveled. They might need it shortly.

Along with the laughter, there was another sound, not heard all the time, but breaking out from time to time. That sound was hysterical screaming. Each time that scream was heard the jeering became louder. Somebody was being tortured and it was certain that the victim was a woman.

The crowd came into view and they looked typical villagers. Women in country clothes stood facing the lake, shaking their fists and screaming abuse while their children picked up small stones to throw. Grim faced men holding pitchforks and spades stood close together, watching their victim with gloomy satisfaction.

The person they watched was at the end of a long frame that took its victim fourteen feet out into the lake. Tied to a ducking stool was an attractive dark haired woman who screamed abuse at the crowd. She was soaking wet having been ducked into the lake by the men holding onto the other end of the plank.

The mechanism operated like a seesaw, and when the men let go the girl plunged into the watery depths. She was tied hand and foot and could not escape. Unless the men worked in concert to pull her out of the water she would certainly drown. Such instruments were used to execute people, usually those accused of witchcraft or being in league with the Fairie.

The crowd noticed Jalia and Daniel approach just as the men let the girl fall into the water again, her screams instantly silenced by the lake. A man, who had the look of a leader, left the men by the plank and strolled towards them. The villagers fell silent so they could hear what was said.

“Hello the village,” Daniel said in formal greeting, “We are travelers in seek of shelter for which we have ample money to pay. May I ask what is taking place?” Behind him, Jalia drew her sword and held it casually on her lap.

The village elder noticed her actions and frowned. Travelers do not usually approach a village with swords drawn.

“She is a witch and she deserves what she is getting.”

“Therth is no thuch thing as witchcrath!” Jalia said loudly. The pain it brought her was excruciating, but she didn’t bow her head or give any indication of her condition beyond her slurred speech.

“My traveling companion has an abscess. Do you have someone who can treat it?” Daniel asked politely, though his eyes indicated that he fully agreed with Jalia’s pronouncement.

“As I said, she is our witch.” The elder said waving in the direction of the bubbles rising from the lake. He suddenly realized how long they had left the girl underwater. “Get her up, lads. She’s far too useful to allow her to die.”

As Daniel and Jalia watched in amazement, the men and some of the women leapt forward and pulled on the end of the plank as though their lives depended on it. As the girl’s head came above water they could see it hung limp and she showed no sign of life. Jalia sheathed her sword, as it was clear that at that moment everybody wanted to save the girl’s life.

“She’s our only healer and more than your friend will suffer if she dies,” the village elder explained as men and women swung the stool around so the girl’s body was brought to land.

Daniel ran to the girl, pushing the men out of the way. He was worried these people might have killed the only person capable of treating Jalia. When he lifted the girl’s head up, he could see she was perhaps sixteen or seventeen. She wasn’t breathing and showed no signs of life.

Lake
water dripped out of the girl’s mouth. When he put his hand on her face, he felt a shock pass through him and into her. The energy that left his body made his knees buckle. The girl coughed and spewed lake water over him.

A cheer rose from the crowd. After a few seconds of spitting water, the girl looked up and started swearing.

“I’m not with these people.” Daniel said as he cut the ropes binding her to the stool. “I have a sick friend you must help.”

“Take me from here and I’ll gladly help your friend.”

The girl reminded Daniel of Jalia. She had the same look of fierce determination in her eyes. He helped her from the stool and could not help noticing her lithe figure outlined by her wet clothing. As they left the platform the village elder moved to block their path.

“My name is Bran Tawn, stranger, and you may take your friend to Gally’s cottage for treatment, but the witch stays here in Drun Hill. We need her.” Bran’s tone made it clear this matter was not up for discussion.

Gally spat on Bran’s boots. “I am not the slave that you made of my mother.”

“You’ll do as you’re told or we’ll use the ducking stool on you again,” Bran responded while trying to wipe the spittle off his boots by twisting his foot and sliding it along the grass on the ground. He stared intently into Daniel’s eyes. “Take the witch with you and we will hunt you down. Do you understand?”

“I am only interested in getting Jalia treated. Now step aside,” Daniel said. He helped Gally to where Jalia sat lolling in her saddle.