Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) (16 page)

Blayke sighed; he was tired from their constant travelling.
“At least tonight we’ll sleep in real beds and have a
real
dinner.” Blayke couldn’t help but have a jibe at Arcon’s basic cooking ability. The times they had eaten at inns were some of the best food he had ever had. Arcon tended to boil everything until there was no flavour, just a grey blob of vegetable matter, with the exception of freshly killed meat, which he barbecued over an open fire. Unfortunately, they hadn’t had time to hunt so their diet had consisted of dried meat rations and that grey stuff.

“
If you don’t watch your tongue I might send you to bed without dinner.” The edges of Arcon’s blue eyes crinkled as he grinned.

“Promise?” Blayke smiled.

Phantom swooped out of the sky and alighted on Arcon’s shoulder.
The trees up ahead are hiding four men. Can’t tell if they’re common thieves or specifically looking for us
.

“
Fly in and have a look.” Phantom flew off. Arcon sat on the road and stretched out his leg in pretense of curing a cramp. Blayke bent down to assist. “Are you OK? Is it a cramp?”

“
Men hiding up ahead. Phantom’s going to have a look. Pretend to help me. A massage would be nice.”

“
Can’t be bothered. I think I’ll just look concerned.” Blayke sat next to his uncle and waited for the supposed cramp to improve.

Arcon received a picture from his creatura. Phantom had a vantage point from a tree between the bandits and
the realmist. He had a side-on view. The men were standing in anticipation, gazing in Arcon’s direction. They were a ragged-looking lot, but their swords were clean and sharp. Phantom sent Arcon a question.
Is that enough, or do you want me to wait until they say something?

Wait
. 

The one with the greasiest hair spoke first, although he had the good sense to whisper. Unfortunately for him, owls had exceptional hearing.
“What are they doing, why have they stopped?” 

The leader of the small band answered.
“How the hell should I know, you stupid louse. I can’t read minds can I? Looks like the old man has a cramp or something.”

“
How long will we have to wait? That man only paid us enough for the afternoon. Buggered if I’m going to stay here all night.” 

The leader took an openhanded swipe, whacking his accomplice upside the head.
“Bloody well shut your trap. We’ll wait as long as we bloody well have to. The wait won’t seem so long if we don’t have to listen to your drivel, so keep it shut.” The others nodded.

Arcon had heard enough.
Wait there, Phantom. I don’t want you attracting their attention. Join us when it’s over
. The realmist took a few moments formulating a plan.

Arcon rose, speaking to Blayke.
“They’re waiting for us because they were paid to. I’m assuming they want to kill us.”

The look on the younger man
’s face was a mix of wanting to be brave but being scared instead. 

“
Don’t worry, lad. I have a plan. Since they know where we are, it won’t hurt to use the Second Realm.” Arcon shut his eyes and mumbled under his breath. 

“
OK, follow me.” He stepped off the road and into the long grass. They were headed for the bandits in the trees. 

“
What are you doing? We can’t fight them in there.” Blayke kept his voice even.

“
We’re not going to fight them.”

“
What, are we committing suicide?”

“
Don’t be stupid, lad. I don’t want anyone seeing what it is I’m going to do to them.”

When they entered the trees they were twenty metres from the enemy. The leader had seen them coming and stood waiting.
“It’s our lucky day, boys. They’re coming to us.” 

“
Lucky coincidence, or do they know we’re here?” Doubt coloured one bandit’s voice. The leader shrugged. Arcon halted two body lengths from the group. There were some limits to what they could do through the Second Realm. Not everything was known about the other universe.  If one wasn’t directly targeting a single entity, the spell was not likely to work, unless the whole area designated for the spell had been physically stepped out by the realmist. By stepping out the area, they were imparting their own aura’s energy, thus containing the spell. Without limiting what he was about to do, he could not be certain how far the affliction would spread. A handful of realmists had been killed, caught up in their own spells, before the rest had learned this rule.

Arcon spoke to the leader.
“Good day to you.”

“
Good day to you, old man. How’s the cramp.  I noticed you were having some trouble over there.” The leader was happy to have a chat; he would kill them soon enough. Arcon slowly circled the group, causing the leader to turn his head to keep an eye on him. “What are you doing?”

“
I’m just admiring what a strapping group of men you have. I wouldn’t want to come up against you in a physical contest.”

“
Well, I’m not sure this is a very good day for you then. My boys and I have been rather bored and were looking for some way to exercise our sword arms. Boys, I think I’ve had enough of the chat, let’s finish this so we can go home.” 

By the time they had all drawn swords, Arcon had stepped out his circle and returned to Blayke.
“Now watch, boy, and learn.” 

Arcon stated a single word.
“Commence.”  

The leader took the instruction personally and stepped toward them. Blayke involuntarily stepped back, however the bandit
’s second step sunk into the ground to his knee.

The bandit toppled forward to the ground, and when he placed his hands on the grass, they too started to sink. His companions had not moved and so were sinking at a slower rate. The ground around them had turned to quicksand. 

“What the hell is happening?” The leader’s commanding voice had disappeared, in its place was a shrill squawk. “Morth didn’t warn me about this! Help us, old man. For the god’s sakes, HELP US!” 

He was thrashing about, trying to free himself, his screams scratching his throat. It had not occurred to him that Arcon had created the quagmire.

Blayke gritted his teeth and watched, feeling some pity, despite the fact that these men would have killed them, no questions asked. He wondered if he would ever get used to the recently acquired knowledge that man could be an evil, supremely selfish creature at heart. What had he ever done to these people that they would kill him for what he assumed was probably not a huge amount of money. What gave them the right to decide he deserved to die? 

The quicksand muffled the leader’s screams. His companions filled in the silence with their own pleas as they sank further into the quagmire.

“OK, Blayke, let’s go. The conclusion is inevitable.” Blayke’s eyes were cold, something Arcon had never seen before. Fang, who was perched on Blayke’s shoulder, gave Arcon a sympathetic look.

“
I want to see this through.”

Arcon didn
’t argue. He placed his hand on Blayke’s shoulder and waited. The bandits eventually gurgled their last breaths as the quicksand closed over their heads. “What happens now? Does the ground stay soft?”

“
The effect only lasts for an hour. I could have made it last longer but I don’t want innocent people or animals getting trapped.”

“
I’d like to wait and make sure.”

“
OK.” They sat for a while. Arcon was saddened by the look in the boy’s eyes. He had almost accomplished the task of ferreting out all the innocence and naivety from Blayke’s kind spirit. He felt tortured by what he was doing. No one should have to learn the lessons he was teaching. Unfortunately their world needed them to be this way.

The hour passed and Arcon led his small group into the town of Springdale, shadowed above by Phantom. Wyrdon was a wealthy and peaceful country. The road leading into Springdale was cobbled and well-maintained. Farmers driving horse-drawn carts laden with produce, travellers clothed in the dust of their journey, and the occasional carriage that coiffured women peeped out of, shared the road in and out of Wyrdon. Trade was safe and prosperous, especially here, near the border with Veresia.  They were not challenged at the city gates, even though four guards stood alert. Arcon had no doubt the men were trained to remember each and every unfamiliar face that passed through.

Arcon didn’t want to waste time, however he wanted to track down the man whom the leader of the bandits had referred to as Morth. He wanted to know who wanted them dead. It would be easy to believe the great threat they were trying to stop was behind it, but he wanted to be sure. If someone completely different were sabotaging them, they were in for more trouble than they had foreseen. The Gormons could only be defeated if the whole of Talia were united. As it was, there were two countries that were constantly, and quietly, plotting against Veresia and its allies, Brenland and Wyrden. 

Inkra was situated to the north of Veresia, bordering both it and Brenland. Communications between nations were strained at best, due to the different religions and styles of government. Sometimes five years would pass with no communication at all. Occasionally skirmishes broke out at the border, but it was never too serious.

Zamahl was a small continent situated to the west of the great continent that contained Veresia. Zamahl was as large as Veresia and Brenland put together. Because of its location across the ocean, even less was known about it. Arcon assumed the new threat, if not the Gormons, would be from Zamahl or Inkra. Only time would tell, and that was something they had little of.

Arcon was travelling toward the middle of town to the Goat
’s Head Inn. He had stayed there in the past and had always found the place satisfactory. It was a regular haunt of merchants, farmers from surrounding districts, and local shop owners. After the business of the day had been completed, people celebrated the deals they had made over an ale, or in some cases, continued an argument.

Blayke was happy enough when Arcon halted outside the neat three-level building.  Freshly painted weather
boards greeted them, and a sign showing the white head of a goat on a bright blue background hung above the door. “Keep Fang hidden please. This inn has a good reputation for being clean and serving disease-free meals. I don’t think they’d appreciate a plague-carrying customer.”

“
He doesn’t have the plague. How can you say that?” Blayke glared at his uncle.

Fang piped up in their minds.
I don’t have any diseases, thank you. I’m probably cleaner than you, Master
. It was Arcon’s turn to be offended, although he had to admit he was exuding a pungent odour, which came of having bathed way too infrequently. 

“
We don’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves.” His voice projected a sternness he didn’t employ often, so they quietly followed him inside.

Arcon pointed for them to sit at one of the tables. They were soon approached by a young and beautiful serving lass. Her long, blonde hair was tied back in a loose tail; two strikingly blue eyes peered out of a slender, heart-shaped face.  She was slim with ample roundness in all the appropriate places. Blayke
stared. When she reached the table, she addressed Arcon. “What will it be, sir?”

“
Two ales please. We would also like a room for the night, if you have one free.”

“
Certainly, sir. I’ll inform Mistress Eugene.” Blayke was rewarded with a smile and wink before she departed to fetch the beer.

“
Too skinny for my liking. Too much trouble for your liking, I would have to say.”

“
Do you have to ruin all my fun? Anyway, you can’t stop me from looking, and if she chooses to speak to me, I’ll have to answer.”

“
Just don’t get too attached—we’re only passing through, and I don’t have the energy to deal with any dramas. I’d also bet she has a vigilant father who’s chased off better than you.”

Blayke looked down at his travel-worn clothes and didn
’t need to raise his arm to smell himself. He realised he must look close to a vagabond. Imagine if she saw he had a rat in his pocket. He laughed. “Hmm, maybe I’ll come back when I’ve had a bath.”

Arcon nodded, then shook his head; he approved of the bath part, but that was it.

She had a wide smile for the younger man when she placed the tankards on the slab of a table. He plucked up the courage to smile back. “Has anyone ever told you what white teeth you have?” 

She giggled in reply and left to serve another table.

“Oh, lad, that was pathetic. After seeing you in action I don’t think I’ve too much to worry about.” He laughed as Blayke’s face turned a sunburnt shade of red. “Have some of the ale, it might cool your head a bit.” Fang was quietly squeaking his laughter inside Blayke’s pocket.

Arcon ordered a hearty lunch of freshly roasted beef, bread, and mashed potatoes. It was a meal they all savoured in silence and Blayke
’s eyes stayed on his food for most of it. He suddenly felt like staying at another inn. He imagined her telling everyone what he’d said, making him the laughing stock of the Goat’s Head Inn for days. Blayke was relieved when they finished lunch and Mistress Eugene showed them to their first-floor room. It looked towards the stables at the rear, and a muted odour of manure and straw permeated the room. It was newly swept, had clean sheets on the beds, and fresh water in the basin. Both men availed themselves of the water, and because Blayke washed last, he felt like he was removing grime and replacing it with more dirt. He hated washing after Arcon.