The Call (12 page)

When they approached the edge of the fell she could see across Baldur's Coast. The snow to the east was already vanishing.

A new beginning.

She breathed in the cool air. Her thoughts turned to the future vision. She'd sensed something strong there. Something far more dangerous than the monsters she'd seen so far. Fear mixed with the excitement.

But the excitement was stronger.

Chapter
7.

The journey to Rapids progressed slowly at first. Serdra was still concerned with not running into anyone who might recognize Katja even though Katja insisted the chances of that happening so far east were remote. Additionally the winter's stay on the fell had drained the horse's stamina and the snow covering the isolated trails slowed him considerably.

Still, the landscape got steadily more flat as they went east, the snow melted quickly and Serdra started inching closer to civilization.

Hjalmar had always leapt at any opportunity to remind people how comfortable the Baldur's Coast climate was compared to the countries he'd visited. Short winters with light snow and reliable summers. Katja wasn't sure whether the point had been to silence complaints or to remind everyone how far he'd travelled.

They spent the nights in hollows Serdra knew from old and ate sparingly of the little meat and bread they had left.

Rapids was one of the larger settlements of Baldur's Coast and the centre of all trade in the county. It was the perfect place to shop for the journey and get information. Serdra wanted to trade the Dale coin for Amerstan-crowns and was eager to know what was going on to the south, as well as north in Amerstan. Katja herself was eager to see places she'd been denied for so long.

Only once in her life had she been so far east; eight years earlier, when her father and others of the village had gone on a trade journey to Rapids. She's been allowed to tag along in the hope that the discomforts of travel would quench her thirst for adventure. The man had wound up disappointed, to say the least.

Katja smiled a bit at the memory, despite a sudden sting of homesickness. She touched the necklace and reminded herself that she had no business going back home.

The snow had mostly vanished by the morning of the fifth day. They had just set out again when they started to hear the din, and Katja knew they didn't have far to go.

The Din River could be glimpsed through the foliage. It rushed down from the highlands and to the sea, fat and fast due to the spring thaw. When Hnut carried them past the foliage the town spread out before them.

It was strange to see it again after all this time and awoke a hint of the old childish excitement at seeing the homes of over a thousand people in one place. The place even seemed to have grown if memory wasn't failing her, and more tracts turned into farmland.

They finally crossed into the road, which was already muddy with traffic and covered with animal dung, across the old wooden bridge and moss-covered rocks the town was named after.

Katja gazed in every direction as the town started to encircle them and compared what she saw to her recollections. The first trading groups were already here and the air sang with conversations, animal noises, work sounds, laughter and someone was playing a fiddle and telling the tale of Arnaldur the Grey and Eirikur Cliff invading the Outskirts.

Oh, how she loved this.

Serdra asked a guardsman for directions and then headed directly to the sheriff's office. There she entered with her purse in hand and came back out with considerably less in it.

“Do you remember what we need?” she asked.

Katja took a deep breath.

“Oats, new horseshoes, well-lasting food, a sharpening stone, needle and thread, materials for patches, skin socks, a purse for myself... and... oil for our blades.”

“And news, don't forget about that.”

“No, I know.”

Katja looked around at all the activity, as well as the variety which made her wish to be rich.

“Won't we hear more if we split up?” she asked slowly and got irritated at her own inability to keep excitement out of her voice.

“So, you want to run around,” Serdra answered with that iron gaze of hers.

“Well, yes,” Katja said after slight hesitation and shrugged. “I've been up on a fell for three months. With you.”

“We need to keep a low profile,” Serdra said and flicked the headscarf she wore. She'd put it on when they approached settlements to hide that strange white and brown hair of hers.

“So you're going to tackle me if I start to walk away?” Katja asked and felt the grin creep to life.

“If you get into a brawl I will do just that,” Serdra said in her customarily calm fashion and handed her a few crowns. “Find us some oil.”

Katja took the money and Serdra leaned in a bit.

“You will have plenty of opportunities to test what I have taught you. Do show that I've taught you some discipline.”

With that she turned around and led Hnut towards a farrier.

Katja let the coins slip into the pocket on the front of her shirt and went off on a casual walk.

It was a bit odd to be around so many people and not see a single acquaintance. No one struck up a conversation with her as she passed camps and booths, tents and animal fences, except to offer her some product. Everyone was busy with their own business and she could float around without notice, like a phantom.

Or almost. She got some glances because of the sword. Serdra had told her to wear it on her hip at all times so she would learn to not let the scabbard cause her any problems. After three months of that Katja had almost stopped thinking about it, but now she was reminded that a woman with a war sword was a somewhat odd sight.

People didn't stare, and she doubted this would be newsworthy enough to carry west to her kinfolk, but the thought occurred that perhaps she should buy a headscarf herself, for future use.

I wonder how tightly the woman wants to hold onto the money
, Katja thought. She stuck her hand in the pocket and rooted the coins around a bit.
And where do Redcloaks get money from anyway, if we're always traveling? Does she mean to do work as a milkmaid when the opportunity rises?

The mental image of Serdra chasing an uncooperative cow with an empty bucket in hand made her laugh.

She pushed through a group watching a man offer copper jewellery, and finally spotted a small house where a man offered various kinds of greases, oils and spices out of a large window sill.

“Good day, young lady,” the sinewy man of about forty said as he saw her interest and smiled amiably. “Can I offer you something?”

“Perhaps,” Katja answered. She walked to the sill and examined his selection. She picked up one jar after the other and peeked under the lid as she went over the details of the story she and Serdra had put together for the last few days.

“You look newly arrived,” the man asked conversationally.

“I am, actually,” Katja said and was relieved at him taking the first step. “We meant to spend the winter here, on our way to Baldur's City, but I got sick on the way and we had to accept hospitality in Threshwood while I recovered.”

“Well, it is better to owe a favour than risk one's health in winter weather,” the man said and sipped some berry wine. “You seem to have made good recovery.”

“Yeah, no fever is going to bring me down,” Katja said and smirked, but suddenly realised she didn't know how to feign illness and hoped he'd leave that subject be. “I feel worse about having been away from the main tracks. What news of the mid-coast?”

The man became ill at ease and tapped his heart slightly, which was supposedly good when speaking of evil things.

“Ah, monsters roam our country, judging by the tales,” he said quietly. “Did you hear of the incident to the west?”

“N-no,” Katja replied and tried to convince herself there was nothing noteworthy about her appearance.

“Some horror came out of the woods by Brown Slope
in broad daylight
, and attacked everything in its path. It tore five people apart before being felled!”

Three
, Katja thought.

“Is this a true story?” she asked and was acutely aware of the necklace.

“As true as any story, I would say. It arrived in our town from various directions shortly before the snow. Supposedly some girl cut the beast down and vanished shortly after. This led to no few ghost stories during drunken evenings, let me tell you.”

“I'll bet,” Katja muttered and wondered what her relatives and neighbours said about the incident these days. “But it sounds like this monster isn't a problem anymore.”

“Isn't it?” the man said and was no more at ease. “Then what happened to the girl? And we now have stories from the east of similar happenings.”

“What?”

“A group came here to sell sheepskin over a week ago. They live close to Longwater, in Shaken County, and apparently two people have been dragged into the water by... something.”

“Clumsiness?” Katja joked half-heartedly, but the unease resurfaced. She'd forgotten about it for a little bit. Was this what she and Serdra had sensed?

“No,” the man said and wasn't amused. “They swore that something had come out of the water in the night and snatched men before witnesses.”

“No kidding,” Katja said and rolled a jar back and forth between her fingers.

“Do you still want to go east?” the man said in total earnestness.

“Yes. Yes, I do want to go east.”

“Then perhaps you should buy this,” the man said and held up a particular jar. “Horsefat mixed with ground leeks. It is supposed to defend against unnatural beasts, even harm them. It might be wise to smear it on your forehead. Or your sword.”

I've been informed otherwise.

“I think it would be wiser to just run,” Katja said and put up a smile.

The man smiled back but the subject was clearly making him ill at ease.

“I'll have this,” Katja said and held up a piece of tallow in a small wooden box. It wouldn't break easily, and the tallow wouldn't leak out.

She paid and left with the box in her shirt pocket along with eight crowns.

As Katja walked further along the streets she noticed that a large portion of the people weren't even making purchases. Many relatives were meeting for the first time since fall and now stood in groups and traded messages, regards, memories of bygone times and news.

She heard the monster story from the east three more times as she walked slowly and innocently past groups and heard at least one mention of herself.

It was rather fun.

The houses were quite similar to what she was accustomed to, except usually bigger and often older. Almost every single window frame, roof edge and beam were decorated with carvings, and a wooden disc above the doors showed the number of occupants. It seemed like each house usually held fewer people than back home, whatever that meant.

Quite a few housewives took advantage of the traffic by offering light, cheap meals in the street. Despite all the people and animals the air smelled of soups, porridges and breads and when Katja spotted a young woman offering buns with meat in them she couldn't help but stop.

She had eight crowns left. Serdra had far more than that, but also had to spend it for-

An old man greedily bit into one of the buns and steaming meat and grease burst out the side of it.

Oh never mind!

She darted for the table before anyone else could get at it, let two crowns fall into a pouch and snatched the largest one.

She bit into the bun as she walked and groaned with pleasure. It was a wonderful change after the cabin diet.

A crowd had gathered on a square ahead. It was mostly comprised of men, who were clearly watching something exciting in process. As she drew nearer and started hearing grunts of effort she understood.

She slipped into the crowd and squeezed her way to the rope which had been strung between four stakes as a simple fence. The wrestlers were caked in mud and one of them had a gushing nosebleed, but their competitive spirit was clearly visible. Currently they stood upright in a grapple and tried anything and everything to bring the other down.

She'd always enjoyed watching matches, but now she did so with a slightly different mindset. After Serdra's training she now observed the details of how they moved and the mistakes they made, and imagined what she herself would do if she were within the fence; how she would make use of those mistakes and turn their efforts against them.

She imagined what it would be like to have all this attention on her and hear the calls being directed at herself.

This wouldn't count as a brawl, would it
? she thought.
It's just a competition. Would it be so bad to...

Something hard and sharp was poked into her lower back.

Katja whirled around in the confines of the crowd and grabbed the hand. It belonged to Serdra, who let a pointed pebble drop to the ground and pulled Katja in close.

“You're not being alert,” she whispered into her student's ear.

“Are you comp-”

Serdra pressed a finger to her lips.

“Come.”

Serdra started to slip out of the crowd while Katja tried to stare holes into the back of her head and breathe out the sudden fear. Then she followed.

“I found good tallow,” she said quietly but sharply. Getting excited around all these people wouldn't do. “Where's the horse?”