Self-Made Scoundrel (23 page)

Derk tried to get some sleep once more. He was finally able to nod off, but he didn’t dream and he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. He was glad to be woken up by a kiss on the cheek, turning his face to return the kiss only to find his lips on a face in need of a shave and he pulled back, shocked to find a grinning Asa. Chuckles rose up from the other party members as he sat up in bed. Derk wished this had been the first time they played this trick on him, but it wasn’t, and for some reason they never tired of it. He jabbed the burly Asa in the shoulder, still not able to hold back his laugh at the old joke, though his chuckle was dampened as he looked up at the walls of the room. He couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable at the carved figures looming above the laughing group.

First meal was quick and uneventful. They ate their dried biscuits and fruit in silence, except when Jezlen told Asa to chew more quietly. The five of them packed up, the stone wedged in the tunnel still intact and untouched. Devra made a few lights and anxiously they set off.

“Is it just me or is there something off about these figures?” Derk asked, casting a light up onto one of the reliefs. They didn’t bother to stop but gazed over the walls as they hurried on, eager to leave. The group walked through the silent halls, the figures lining the walls and some even flowing onto the floor or ceiling with their height. All of the figures were carved in great detail, the weave in the fabric of their clothing or the flow of curls in their hair obviously etched by a careful, observant hand.

“None of them have eyes,” Sindra said. Her words seemed loud and Derk swore he felt a cool wind blow through the intricately carved passageways. No irises or pupils were carved into their stone faces. The figures depicted carried out their deeds without seeing what they were doing. Yet at the same time the people carved in relief onto the walls seemed to be watching the intruders while their hands worked, bent over bodies, sacrifices, bowls.

“We should leave this place,” Jezlen said.

“We’re trying, Jezlen, really we are,” Derk grumbled, pulling ahead of the group and setting a quicker pace, eager to put all of this place behind them.

More than once Derk found himself reaching for his shortsword. Occasionally he heard the cocking of a crossbow or the stretch of a bowstring from Jezlen or Asa. Yet nothing gave him a reason to draw the entire time they stalked the quiet halls, ascended the silent staircases, passed through the noiseless rooms. They were the only things alive in the entire structure, menaced by the images of speculated horror that adorned the ancient walls. Still, his hand moved to the hilt of his blade.

There seemed to be no end to the temple, and they had to make camp within its stone walls once again. Derk dreamed of being sacrificed by those beings, smooth cold hands of stone gripping him by his limbs. They carried him to a gate leading to an inky darkness which made his stomach cramp with fear and his brain scream in terror. He was glad to take his watch and the next day found all of them hurrying through the vast temple, eager to put it all behind them.

After what seemed like two watches of walking a beam of light popped ahead of them. Derk stood up straight as the welcome natural illumination reached his eyes. He could hear Devra gasp with delight behind him and Asa thanked the Goddess for bringing them to the end safely. The group ran toward the exit, almost knocking each other over to get out of the breathless oubliette.

They squinted in the bright light and grinned at each other as they spilled out of the temple, relieved. White, bright sunlight bathed them all and Derk knelt down on the ground, laying his face on the sparse grass sprouting from the dirt. They were high up though not at an extreme elevation, rolling hills spreading below them. Huddles of farms and the white roof of a church welcomed them from below. Derk blinked a few times and looked out over the land, his lips pressed together as he cocked his head to the side.

“How fortunate for us,” said Jezlen, looking over the green that lay before them, finally resting his longbow across his back. “We find ourselves above the Moorlands, a good place to be after such an ordeal. We shall find.…”

Moorlands. Derk went pale and he felt panic rising. Jezlen stopped talking and Devra was asking him questions, clapping her gloved hands excitedly. He felt the sensation of Sindra squeezing his arm but couldn’t react accordingly, only managing to utter a single sentence.

“You sure you all don’t want to maybe go back through the way we just…came? No?” He hadn’t even managed to say it loud enough for anyone to hear, and his companions were all too excited to be out of the cavern to notice his state. Though his knees were knocking together, he managed to follow the group down, taking the tail end instead of the lead like he usually did. Moorland. Through a lack of luck or by trickery, he was back where he had started.

Laid Bare

Derk drew the razor one last time over his scalp, wincing slightly as it nicked his skin. It wasn’t the first time he had done so, and he imagined his pink scalp was dotted with spots of red blood, noting there was the definite feeling of a trickle on the right side. He ran his free hand over his head, not surprised to find it stained crimson, rinsing his razor and then his hand in the cold water of the stream. Derk dipped his head in the stream, the icy water stinging the cuts but the pain was minor and bearable. Lifting his scalp out from the waterway, water dripping down his face and around his nose, he looked to the priestess who watched him with crossed arms, her lips hidden with dismay. Derk held his arms out to the side, presenting himself to her. “Well? What d’yah think?”

“I still don’t understand why you have done this,” Sindra said, turning away and walking back the short distance to the rest of the camp. “You have beautiful hair, or did. You look like a peasant or a prisoner.”

“Well, for your information, I am a peasant,” he shot, surprised how quickly the words escaped his lips, like a projectile and not a fact. “And high summer is upon us. I’ll be cooler this way.” He closed the razor with a snap, almost cutting his finger on its edge.

“I agree with the priestess,” said Jezlen, sitting up straight as he spoke. Derk shot Jezlen a look, not remembering asking his opinion. The elf stood up, cocking his head to the side as he inspected the now bald thief, eyes half open. “I believe she is being too kind with her comparisons. You look more like one who is…wrong in the head.” Jezlen pointed to his own head as he said it, nodding as he agreed with himself.

“Well, if I could think about something mean to say about you right now I’d say it. Except I can’t think of anything at the moment,” Derk snapped, going to his pack and fumbling through it, looking more for something to do than anything in particular. He found himself irritated by the elf’s inspection, looking to Asa and Devra, the girl counting coins and the warrior redressing one of his wounds. “Well, how do I look to a Valleyman’s eye?”

“Keen. Intense. Skilled.” Asa said. The warrior scratched at the bandage on his shoulder, looking over Derk. “Like…like a hired killer!!”

“What?” Derk shot. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or angry.

“I mean a soldier,” Asa said. “One of the guardsmen. Alert!”

“What my brother means to say,” said Devra, gathering up the coins and placing them in a small leather pouch, “Is it is a very bold look. Now that your hair isn’t hanging in your face, you can see how blue your eyes are.”

“Do I look like myself, though?” Derk asked. This was the heart of the matter and he needed an honest opinion. They were back in Cartaskin territory and Derk would not take the chance of being recognized. The chance was slim, given the fact no one was looking for him, but Derk would rather be over cautious than over confident. He avoided Sindra’s gaze.

“In a way, but not really.” Devra offered. She gestured at him with a finger as she went over his appearance, smiling broadly at him. “Your beard’s more scruffy than before and well, you’re shinier up top.”

“I think it looks good,” Asa blurted. Derk figured he was trying to make up for his ignorant comment from before. “Maybe I’ll do the same,” Asa continued. “So we can match. That’ll draw the attention off of you. It is getting to be hot, it’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m not…I’m not looking for us to be triplets now, Asa. Thank you but two knob heads bobbing around might actually call more attention.” Derk took a breath, placing his hands on his head and remembering something he wanted from his pack. “Are you two going into the town proper or not?”

“Yeah, who’s got things to be taken in, who needs what?” Devra tucked the pouch into her belt, exchanging it for her gloves and pulling them on. “We might be long. Asa’s shoulder isn’t healing the way I’d like. We’re going to try and find some medicine for it, if not a healer. No offense, Sindra.”

“None taken,” Sindra replied, sipping from her waterskin. “My training in the healing arts is basic, as required by my order. Us priestesses rarely have to mend these types of wounds. I’m sorry I can’t help you more, Asa.”

“No need to apologize,” Asa mumbled. Asa wasn’t facing them as he spoke, but Derk knew his face would be red with embarrassment. Derk spared Asa from further humiliation by keeping his worry for the burly fighter to himself. Asa had fought valiantly and taken most of the blows, protecting them. “I know you did your best.” he said to Sindra, so gracious even as he scratched at his wound.

“But something to take into town, right?” Derk asked Devra. He did have something to send off, though, so he dug around in his bag for the letter he had written a few days ago. Plus, he was sure Asa would be glad to have the attention off of him. He pulled the letter out and handed it to Devra.

“Back to Portsmouth, eh?” Devra said, looking over the address. “I thought you said you didn’t have any family?” She smiled, her eyes sparkling in the summer sun,

“What, I can’t have friends besides you all?” Derk asked. “Is it hard to believe?”

“Yes,” said Jezlen, not looking up from whatever he was doing.

“That’s not what I meant,” Devra laughed, sticking her tongue out at the Forester. “Just, two letters in under a moon. You must be nervous, or have someone nervous about you.” Before Derk could think of what to say Devra turned her attention to Sindra and Jezlen. “And you two?”

Jezlen handed Devra a small pouch. “Some tobacco,” was all he said as Devra brought it to her nose, sniffing it.

“What is this?” she asked. “This isn’t money.”

“Heartberry seed,” Jezlen said. “Enough for tobacco.”

“Jezlen, you have to give her money for tobacco, not trade. She’s doing you a favor, not asking for work.” Sindra sighed and waited as Jezlen muttered something and handed Devra a few coins.

“Sindra?” Asa asked. “You need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Sindra said. “Good luck in town.”

Derk watched the siblings as they disappeared down hill. They were three days into the Cartaskin Barony and as he started to recognize different land features and bends in roads, Derk had grown more nervous, talking less and keeping to the center of the party. All the towns with walls were collecting gate taxes and some of the roads even had guards, demanding fees to use the roads, so the group started traveling through the woods to avoid being pecked to death by fees. Sindra’s standing with the Church did nothing to lessen the cost. Derk’s convenient rumors of the area further convinced the group traveling off the road was a better idea and when pressed to answer how he knew so much, he simply credited stories he had from other bar patrons.

Derk settled down on the ground, deciding to clean his nails and maybe take a nap. As soon as he sat down, Sindra sat beside him, laying her head in his lap, her long, dark hair spilling over his legs and onto the grass. He played with her hair absentmindedly, finally able to relax for the first time in what seemed like far too long. The cavern from which they had emerged took the primary toll on his nerves. The constant worrying about what could possibly happen in the lands he grew up in kept him awake at night and nervous during the day. Plus they would have to cross the Freewild again to get to Portsmouth, though above ground travel would be far less dangerous. He thought Sindra had fallen asleep and was about to close his eyes and do the same when she spoke.

“Sending letters to that woman again?” she asked. Derk blinked, trying to ascertain her mood by the tone of her voice, not sure why she was asking. He paused, confusion making the skin on his forehead pucker, blinking again as he laid a hand on her side.

“Again? You mean for the second time?” Why had she asked? He traced his finger around her pointed ear, tucking her hair around it so he could see her beautiful face. The sun turned her skin even darker and her cheek was smooth under his caress, as always. “This is only the second letter. Letting her know where we are and I’m safe. Can’t have her worrying, you know?”

“Of course not.” She sat up so she faced him and he was surprised to see her face was very serious, her grey eyes dark and heavy lidded. “You are good friends, aren’t you?”

“Old Gam’s my best friend, after you all. First person I met worth talking to in Portsmouth. Smart. Helped me get my bearings when I got into town. Y’know?” The expression on her face never changed but Derk felt sweat starting to pop on his forehead for some reason. “Put me up when I had no place to go. A drinking buddy.” He felt as if she was searching for something else and he wracked his brain for what it could possibly be but came up blank. “What? I’d write you a letter if we were apart, if that’s what’s bothering you.” Maybe that was it. Perhaps she wanted reassurance she was worth the parchment and ink. “I love you, Sindra, you know that.”

The elven woman sat up and then stood, shaking her robes free of dirt and grass as she walked away. Derk stood up, alarmed, tripping over his pack as he chased after her. “What, where’re you going? You can’t go into town by yourself! The entry tax!”

“I have money to get into town,” she said, her words curt and low, her eyes not fixing on him but looking past him as she addressed him. “I’ll be back before evening.”