The Book of Deacon (29 page)

"Of course," she said.

After a clutch at her locket and a few choice
words, injury was healed and the swelling eliminated.

"Ah. Remarkable. You do fine work!" Leo
commended, as he gathered up the unlit torches. Now that he was
healthy, he could carry them all. The spent torch was stripped of
the charred rags and used as a walking stick as the trio marched
on.

"If there was something wrong with your legs,
you should have told me," she said.

"There is nothing you can do. They are healed
already. Not quite the way they ought to have. A handful of
fighters I've known had the same problem. Nothing they could do
either, healers or no," he said in a disarmingly cheerful tone.

"How terrible," she said.

"Shed no tears for me, my dear. Where we are
headed, no ailment will endure," he said.

"That sounds familiar," she said, the flowery
prose stirring her memory.

"A play,
One
Final
March,
spoken right before our hero heads to a
battle he cannot hope to win bearing a wound he cannot hope to
survive," Leo said.

"That does not speak very well of our
destination," she said.

"Don't worry. Some of my fondest memories are
in the land that lies ahead of us. But enough about that. It must
be seen to be believed. Frankly, if you don't mind, I would dearly
love to hear what your life has been like since our last meeting,"
he said.

"At the usual rate, though. I'll trade you my
story for yours," she said.

"Naturally," he said.

As they made their way along the slick,
uneven path, Myranda spoke of the events of the last few months.
She told the tale of her capture in the church, and her clash with
the mysterious creatures in the field, and her escape with the aid
of the Undermine. Leo nodded, chiming in at times with insightful
comments. He really seemed to care what happened to her, a quality
that she found wholly absent in society at large.

By the time Myn's appearance and the time
spent under Wolloff's training had been described, she felt as
though she was talking to her oldest friend. In a way, she was.

"Good heavens," he said. "That is quite a
tale. You lead an eventful life."

"It hasn't always been that way," she said.
"But enough about me. You have a story of your own to tell."

"So I do. Fair is fair. Let me see," he
began. "I saw you off and headed into Melorn. The hunting was a bit
thin, but adequate. Before a week had passed, I decided to find my
next tournament, so I nosed around a bit further north. Things were
quiet, but eventually I caught word of a small submission tourney
nearby. It was informal, a handful of Alliance veterans and
soldiers on leave trying to see just who was best at the art of
battle. Admittedly an outsider, they were reluctant to allow me
entry, particularly with my unwillingness to meet face to face.
Luck would have it that one of the soldiers was called back to
duty, and I filled the vacancy. One of the organizers caught sight
of me. He pulled me aside as I was placing a bet on myself.

"I was in my fighting gear, so he couldn't
tell what I was, but he told me that he had seen me fight before,
and that he knew I could win this easily. I thanked him for the
compliment. He went on to explain that one of the other combatants,
a big fellow, was something of local hero. He'd been a part of more
winning battles than any other soldier in years and had even earned
his way into this 'Elite' squad. In all likelihood, I would be
facing him in the final round. Even more likely was my victory. He
dangled a sack of silver under my nose and mentioned that a
spirited victory would be a tremendous boost to the morale of the
people.

"I stood to earn a good deal more by taking
the fall than collecting on my own bet, so I agreed. It wasn't the
first time. The fighting started and the first few rounds were
laughable. There was an old man who wanted to see if he still had
what it took. He didn't. Then was a green newcomer who was fresh
from his first tour and somehow hadn't seen a battle yet. He went
down fairly easily. Finally I found myself face to face with this
Elite character.

"I won't lie, he was a formidable fellow. A
mountain of a man. He outclassed me in size and strength by a fair
amount. Slow, though. If I wanted to, I could land a half-dozen
blows in the time it took him to miss one. That and he was, if you
can believe it, too well-trained. It was as though I was fighting a
textbook. I've read the manual they use to teach these men, so his
technique couldn't have been more obvious. I found myself ten moves
ahead of him, watching him play into every attack. I would let him
get in a glancing blow here or there to keep it interesting, but
before long, he started to tire, so I knew it was time to act.

"I dropped a shoulder into a shot that went
low and fell to the ground. That, coupled with the serious-looking
blows I'd seemingly suffered, should have been more than enough to
convince the crowd. He stood over me and I made ready to submit,
but there was something wrong. He raised his sword up in what was
clear to be a kill blow. I reacted instinctively with a counter.
Unfortunately, a warrior that size fully committed to a swing is
not easily stopped, even if he wishes it. As a result a sword point
to the chest meant as a warning became a blade through the
heart."

"In the midst of a rather severe outburst of
unbridled hatred, I managed to make good my escape. The mob was
easy enough to lose, but time would show the fallen Elite's
brothers in arms were another matter. They took time out of their
busy schedule of hunting down an assassin or some such and turned
their sights to me. I think I was able to stay ahead of them for a
few weeks before they cornered me. Learning of my race did little
to cool their tempers.

"I . . . Well, I learned what sort of
treatment the highest criminals of the nation can expect. It is not
pleasant. All the while they grilled me as to whether I was sent,
or who I worked for. They tried and tried to find something more in
the fellow's death than a simple accident. When they became bored
of my repeated assurance of the truth, they left me to rot. I
managed to escape and, well, that is that."

Myranda shook her head in disbelief.

"It sounds so awful," she said. "Did they
torture you?"

"I prefer not to think back to that
particular period of my life," he said.

"I understand. Leo, I know that I don't have
anything else I can tell you in return, but do you mind if I ask
you a few more questions?" she asked.

"Go right ahead," he said.

"Myn knows you. I am sure of it. The way she
rushed to you in the forest that day. She'd run like that before,
and all I found was a few pools of blood and the grave markers of
Elites. That was long before the Elites came looking for me. That,
coupled with the way she is so comfortable around you and the way
she listens to you . . . I can get her to light a fire or stop when
she is doing something wrong. You gave her very specific directions
back there. We would not have escaped those soldiers if she hadn't
kept out of sight and hunted down the backup soldiers to scare away
their horses," Myranda said.

"Ah, yes. Well, the fact of the matter is,
prior to my capture, I did meet this fine young lady. I tried to
lose the pursuers in the mountains, so I cut across, eventually
finding myself somewhere in the northern end of Ravenwood. I
thought I smelled you on the wind, but I dismissed it. Then Myn and
I stumbled upon the same hunting ground. There was a bit of tension
at first, but we were getting along soon enough.

"I have a way with animals, as I said. She
was a fine hunter already, but I helped her to hone her craft, as
it were. I could smell you all over her, which puzzled me. At first
I thought she might have killed you. Luckily, I was wrong. Once or
twice, I caught sight of that wizard's tower you were staying in.
By then, I had grown quite certain that you were alive and well
inside," he explained.

"Why didn't you come in and visit?" she
scolded.

"I was less than optimistic as to the quality
of hospitality I might receive from the master of the house. Not to
mention, I was afraid I might involve you in my troubles with the
Elites. Fat lot of good that did," he said.

"Then why didn't you at least tell me about
it with the rest of the recollection?" Myranda asked.

"I was afraid you would scold me for not
visiting you," he answered with a grin.

"You know me like a book," Myranda said with
a shake of her head.

Leo quickened his pace, and the group moved
on.

#

The path had twisted and turned, branching
constantly into a honey comb of different passages. Leo expertly
led the way. As they progressed, Myranda noticed that the three
things that had surprised her about the cave were becoming more and
more prevalent. First, it was getting warmer. She found herself
carrying her robe under her arm to avoid being smothered by it.
Second, water was becoming more and more abundant. It now dripped
and streamed from the roof in an echoing cacophony, gathering in
pools and making the floor perilously slick. Finally, the faint
glitter of the walls increased with each passing step. There were
tiny flecks of some kind of crystal embedded all around, catching
the light and bending it into a breathtaking array of colors.

As the trio progressed, the torch burned
down. When another one had to be lit, the weariness of the constant
walking and climbing was taking its toll. After half a day without
stopping to rest, Myn was as energetic as ever, and Leo showed no
signs of slowing. Myranda, alas, was not so fortunate.

"Stop," she said.

Leo turned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"How deep is this cave? When will we stop?"
she asked.

"If memory serves correctly, this is perhaps
a third of the way there," he said.

"We have got three more days of this ahead?"
she gasped.

"If we keep this pace. The path becomes more
difficult further on, so we may take a bit longer, though the last
bit might make up some time," he explained.

"I don't know if I can make it. I . . . I
haven't eaten since just before I found you," she said.

"That is, oh, a day and a half ago. I seem to
remember that you've gone far longer than that without food," he
said.

"I have, but there are at least three more
days of this. Unless there is food to be found, I don't think I
will be leaving this cave," she said. "And what about Myn, and
you?"

"Did Myn eat when you did?" he asked.

"Yes. As usual, she ate about three times as
much as I did," Myranda said.

"Then she will be just fine. As for me? Well,
never mind me," he said. "Regardless, there is something coming up
that will either fill your stomach or turn it. Either way, you
won't have to worry about your appetite."

"I hope you are right," she said.

They continued on, the path steepening to the
point that they spent as much time climbing as they did walking.
Leo and Myranda did so with quite a bit of difficulty, but Myn
scampered up and down the walls as though she were on the ground.
She was truly in her element. In this dank, dreary environment, she
was in a state of bliss. Just as the path began to level and the
ceiling rose out of sight, Myranda noticed a powerful, gagging
odor.

"What is that?" she coughed.

"Oh, so you can finally smell it. That, my
dear, is dinner," he said.

"You are kidding," she ventured.

Leo shook his head. Shortly, they came upon a
chalky, foul-smelling substance littering the ground. The echoing
of their footsteps was joined by a distorted, unidentifiable
sound.

"You don't intend to use your robe anytime
soon, do you?" Leo asked.

"Unless this cave gets much colder soon, then
I don't imagine I would. Why?" she asked.

"Give it to me. I'll need it soon. If you
don't mind, I am going to need both hands. Would you take the spare
torches?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, exchanging the
now-heavily soiled robe for the torches.

"All right. Now, this is going to be a bit
confusing. There will be a lot of noise, but don't worry. You
should be safe," Leo said as he wiped his fingers on his shirt.

"Wait, what is--" Myranda desperately tried
to interject before the chaos began, failing miserably.

Leo placed two fingers in his mouth and
unleashed a piercing whistle. The echoes of the ear splitting sound
were joined with a myriad of animal screeches. A blur of flapping
wings filled the air. As Myranda struggled against the urge to drop
to the ground and cover her head, her robe-wielding companion cast
it into the air and pulled it tight like a net.

"All right, move! That way!" he said,
motioning.

He and Myranda rushed in the direction he'd
indicated. They quickly came upon a small tunnel that they had to
crawl to enter. Myn lingered just outside, snapping at the frenzied
bats. When the bulk of the animals had funneled out of an unseen
hole in the roof of the cave, she entered the tunnel and joined her
friends, making sure to retrieve her chewing helmet before doing
so. Leo snapped one of the wooden handles of the spent torches into
kindling and lit it. He then uncovered the quarry of questionable
nourishment. The creatures were just about the size of a fist, a
grotesque assemblage of skin and bone.

"You can eat these things?" Myranda said,
picking one of the creatures up by a wing and grimacing.

"
I
can, at least, when there are no alternatives," he
said, popping one of the bats, whole and raw, into his mouth and
crunching away.

Myranda managed to retrieve one of the longer
splinters and skewer a small specimen to hold over the fire. When
it began to sizzle, she, out of necessity rather than desire,
managed to pick some of the meat off of it and consume it. Leo ate
two or three more as he watched her in quiet amusement. Finally he
spoke.