Tarah Woodblade (25 page)

“Huh. Well, I guess you can’t know everything about a man from his legend,” the dwarf said. “Did he teach you staff-work too?”

“No. That was Grampa Rolf. He gave my staff to me as a birthday gift when I turned twelve.” She smiled. “Papa didn’t like it. Thought it was too fancy. To tell you the truth, he just plain didn’t like Grampa Rolf. He was my momma’s father, see? Papa thought he was a bad influence on me.

“Anyway, my papa taught me what he knew about staff fighting, which was limited, but when he knew he was dying, he sent Grampa Rolf a message, asking him to take care of me. At least, that’s what Grampa Rolf said.”

“What happened to your father?” Djeri asked.

“He caught the rot,” she said, shrugging.

“Wow.” Djeri shook his head. “It seems such a shame a man like Gad going that way.”

“Yeah, I guess you dwarfs don’t have to worry about that,” Tarah said, not noticing Djeri wince. “Seems everyone I lose dies from sickness. I was sixteen when papa died. Grampa Rolf left me about six years ago. He was getting old and got a bad case of red-lung when I was out guiding some folks. By the time I got home, he was too sick to move.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Djeri said, cocking his head at her as if gauging something.

“It’s life, I guess. ‘Folks come and go and you’re left to keep living with what they taught you,’” Tarah said, quoting one of her Grampa’s sayings. “Momma taught me how to read. Pappa taught me how to track and how to survive. Grampa taught me staff work and business. Now I’m on my own.”

Her house was completely engulfed now. The fire had grown so hot, Tarah had to back away for fear it would burn her skin. She took a few steps backward, bumping into the mule.

“What about the Sampo Guidesman Guild?” Djeri asked. “I hear they’re like family.”

Tarah snorted. “Yeah, right. The men might be close, but they only put up with me because of my name. A few of ‘em are okay, but for the most part, they’re like a boy’s club that don’t really want a woman in their group.”

“They can eat turds, then,” said Djeri with a scowl. “You should join the academy when this mission is over. You’d get in, I’m sure of it. You’re already a better shot than most of our bowmen and your abilities would make you invaluable as a scout.”

Tarah looked at Djeri, smiling. “Thanks for that. I’ve thought about it, you know. Being academy like my papa. But he told me long ago that he didn’t want me to be a warrior. He said to stay a woodsman. Tracking and guiding are good, respectable trades.”

Djeri looked at her and shook his head. “Well I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life, but I’m afraid your thinking is just a little off. Whether you’re academy trained or not, you’re already a warrior.”

They unpacked their bedrolls and ate dinner. Then as soon as the flames died down enough that they were sure the forest wouldn’t ignite, they moved to the other side of the clearing and went to sleep. Or at least that was the plan. Tarah stayed awake a long while watching her house crumble to embers as Djeri’s words kept tumbling over and over in her mind. He really thought she was a warrior? Good thing he didn’t know how scared she was all the time.

In her dreams that night she fought the moonrat man amongst the burning embers of her house. Her papa and grampa were there cheering her on, but Djeri was yelling at her to get out of there. Slowly she realized that the glowing coals had eaten through the soles of her boots and flames were licking up her legs.

She ran from the house just in time to see dark figures dragging Djeri away. Tarah chased after them as the flames crept higher and higher up her body. Then she saw Djeri fighting the dark figures with the Ramsetter. He hewed them in half with great swipes, but there were too many of them. They were pressing him inexorably towards the open mouth of the giant who was laying in wait on the ground behind him with eager eyes.

Djeri continued to back up, unaware of the giant’s oncoming maw. Tarah ran and tried to fight her way through to him. Her staff knocked the dark figures in the air, but she wasn’t fast enough. The flames had reached her head.

Tarah woke with a gasp, to find that Djeri was already awake and making breakfast. The morning light was streaming across the hillside and nothing remained of her house but timbers. The cave mouth yawned open to the air, belching the occasional puff of smoke. Djeri had found the well and evidently it was still working because he had a soup boiling, made from their dried beef and grain along with spices of his own.

The meal was good, if a bit hot on the tongue. Then they packed up and readied themselves to leave. Tarah had decided to take her satchel with her, but they were left with the dilemma of what to do with the two large bags of coin. Djeri wasn’t comfortable carrying that much money around with them on the mission. They discussed it and finally Tarah and Djeri each took a spade from their supplies and headed to a nearby spot to bury it.

“This really is a lot of coin, Tarah,” Djeri said, shaking his head as they arrived at the place. It was under a tall pine tree that Tarah was quite familiar with, its trunk pockmarked by years of target practice.

“Six hundred and forty five gold worth,” she said and Djeri whistled. Tarah shoved her spade into the earth at the base of the tree. “Yep, it’s just about every penny Tarah Woodblade’s brought in since I was eighteen.”

“You’re kidding me!” Djeri said. “That’s a lot of earnings in what, eight years?”

She shrugged. “Grampa Rolf taught me good. I do this for him really. I make the most out of every deal just to make him proud, you know.”

“You seriously just go around thinking of ways to accumulate money?”

“I’ll spend it one day,” she said matter-of-factly. “If I ever have anything I really need.”

“You mean like when you have kids of your own?” Djeri suggested.

Tarah snorted. “Like any man would have me! No, I reckon I’ll find some use for it. Maybe I’ll open up a bookstore some day; one that folks would come to from cities all around.”

Djeri was frowning at her in a strange way. “You shouldn’t think that way, Tarah. Your future should be more than a job. What’s your legacy? What will you leave behind if you don’t have children?”

“What?” she asked and then she thought she understood his question. He was worried about all that money going to waste. “I’ll tell you what. If I die and I don’t got no one to leave it to, you can have it for all I care. You’ll live longer than me and you know where I’m burying it.”

“Me?” Djeri sputtered.

“What’s bothering you, Djeri the Looker? Are you thinking of killing me and taking my money?” Tarah laughed, shaking her head as she continued digging.

Djeri stood and blinked at her for a moment before finally chuckling. He lifted his spade and helped her dig.

When their task was done, they headed out for the location of the tracks. Tarah gave one last look to the only home she’d ever known and left, not sure how long she’d be gone or even what she would do if she ever came back.

The journey was a long one, and they were quiet for the most part. The weight of the events from the day before sat heavily on Tarah’s shoulders and she was beset by a deep melancholy. Djeri understood and let her be. It took more than half the day before they came to the area described on the map.

Tarah knew the area well. Her father had taken her hunting there several times as a child and she had guided a few hunters this way that were looking for deer. It was a lightly forested and rocky place at the base of the mountain slopes. This was the part of the journey which Tarah had most disliked bringing a mule into, but Neddy was stalwart and obedient, making it through the difficult terrain without many issues.

The map wasn’t detailed enough to show the exact location of the tracks, but from the descriptions the wizard had given them, Tarah knew that they were located somewhere along a small stream. That narrowed down the search considerably and they found their first track at the second stream they came across.

“Is this it?” said Djeri. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she said. The water had partially filled the track back in, but she was confident of the pattern. “It’s a bit old but we’ll see . . .” She touched the track and was jolted by the strength of the memory. Gasping, she withdrew her hand.

“What was it? What did you see?” Djeri asked.

She frowned at him, unused to being around people who understood her ability. “It was strong. This track is at least three weeks old, but it felt as new as a track just made yesterday. Even stronger. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

She followed along the stream, touching each track and being startled by the power of it each time. The beast was strong, confident, and loyal. It was moving with a purpose, but without a clear understanding of where it was supposed to go.

Tarah scratched her head. “You said you met two of these rogue horses, Djeri?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Would you say they’re smart?” she asked.

He nodded. “Well one of them was part man and I’d say he was smarter than most. His name was Samson and during the siege he was put in charge of all the stablemen. Uh, the other one, its hard to say. Her name was Gwyrtha and she was part lizard. She was sweet though and it seemed like she knew what was being spoken. Sir Edge talked to her like she was a regular person.”

“Well this one seems smart too, but it’s like he doesn’t know where he’s going,” she said.

“It’s a he, then?” Djeri said.

“Yes, or at least that’s the feeling I get. I’ll understand more with each track,” she said. “We should destroy the tracks as we go, don’t you think?”

“It would be better if we didn’t have to backtrack to do it,” Djeri agreed.

“Right, well the best way to do it in the mud is just to smudge it a bit with your foot and kick some dirt into it. The main thing is to make it unrecognizable,” she said.

“I wouldn’t have recognized them as they are,” he replied.

“You’re not a professional tracker. That’s who we’re supposed to be hiding them from,” she reminded him.

They went to work covering the tracks she’d found and then started following them further up the stream, destroying them as they went. Tarah was quite impressed with the beast. The more glimpses she got, the more she got the feeling that the intensity of the memories had something to do with the strength of its spirit. It was like the intensity of five or six tracks all at once.

“You planning to work for the academy forever, Djeri?” Tarah asked at one point.

“What do you mean?” he replied.

“You know, dwarfs live a long time,” she said. “Are you gonna work for them all that time?”

He let out a short laugh shaking his head. “I really haven’t thought about it. I’m an academy man through and through. I can’t imagine working for someone else. But who knows where I’ll be a hundred years from now? Who knows where the academy will be?”

“You’ll eventually retire, right?” Tarah touched another track and was jolted with a partial thought from the rogue that made her sure he was carrying some kind of load on his back. “I guess what I’m saying is, what will you do when you’re no longer a warrior?”

“I don’t know,” Djeri said, covering up a track with his boot. “It’s hard to imagine a different life. I tried blacksmithing once. I didn’t have much of a talent for it, but I guess I could see myself doing that one day.”

“You could settle down and start a farm,” she suggested.

“Ha! I’d rather eat a turd,” he said, shaking his head.

“Come on!” Tarah groaned, standing up and facing him.

“What? Farming’s not for me. My parents struggle at it every day. It’s the same thing over and over.” He smudged another track. “I didn’t realize you liked farming.”

“It’s not that,” Tarah said, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s the word ‘turd’. For nature’s sake, you use it all the time! It’s like it’s the only swear you know.”

Djeri looked at the ground, an odd smile on his face. “You know I figured this was coming sooner or later. All my friends ask me eventually.”

“Yeah? Well what’s it about, then?” she asked with a scowl. “Is it some running joke where you just keep saying ‘turd’ until some idiot asks you why?”

The dwarf laughed. “It’s not like that. It’s just that when I was young I had a bit of a foul mouth.”

“You don’t say?” Tarah replied.

“My mother got after me about it all the time until one day my father came to my room and sat me down. He said that since he couldn’t make me stop cursing altogether, he’d make me a deal. I was allowed one word only. As long as that was the only word I used, they would stop giving me grief about it,” Djeri said. “And I’ve done my best to stick by that deal ever since.”

“And you picked ‘turd’?” Tarah said incredulously.

“It’s the perfect word!” Djeri exclaimed with a wide grin.

Tarah folded her arms. “Explain yourself.”

“It’s versatile. I’ve thought up tons of ways to use it over the years. Also, it isn’t so foul you can’t say it in front of mixed company.” He shrugged. “And it also didn’t hurt that it was my mother’s least favorite word.”

“Yeah, that’s the real reason,” Tarah said. She went back to her work, kicking through a track with her boot. “But I wouldn’t say it in front of company,”

“Oh wouldn’t you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Tarah smiled slightly, “Well some company maybe, but-.”

There was a plunking noise and a small golden orb rolled in front of them. It emitted a brief flash and Tarah couldn’t move. She could breathe, but the rest of her body was stiff. In the periphery of her vision, she could see that Djeri was frozen as well.

Tarah heard the stomping of many boots and soon they were surrounded. Tarah couldn’t see them all at first but two of them came to stand in front of her. They were dwarves. Both of them wore dusters and wide-brimmed hats. Even more distinctively, they both had handlebar mustaches, a style Tarah had never seen on a dwarf before.

“Well, what do we have here, Boss Donjon?” asked one with a blond mustache.

“I dunno, but they’re messin’ with our dag-blamed tracks,” said the other, a squint-eyed dwarf whose mustache was jet black. He pulled a long cigar from within his duster’s pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “Let’s take ‘em back to Shade and see what he wants done.”