The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest (2 page)

The animal raked claws across the man
standing over her with hideous force, hurling him to one side and
splattering her with blood and worse. She backed away, rising to
one knee and the bear turned its attention to her; the two other
men having run back into the woods.

To his surprise instead of running away or
being shredded by the beast’s claws she pulled a dagger from her
belt and swung it screaming in fear and anger. Something within her
resonated with him and instead of just being a scream he felt Power
pulse through her body. Threads of Weave exploded out of the
dagger’s blade in a wild uncontrolled arc. The dagger
disintegrated; its mild steel and poor construction unable to
handle the forces it was subjected to.

The majority of the blast blew the bear
across the clearing, but the rest recoiled on the girl herself,
breaking her leg in several places and hurling her unconscious form
to the ground.

“
What were you thinking you
little fool? Why did you have to come here?” He sat and smoked,
watching the girl whimpering in her sleep. “Hush now, you’re safe.”
Glarian touched her tangled mass of hair, smoothing it out of her
face. She murmured something and released a deep sigh.

He jerked his hand back in surprise. Motes of
Weave leaped from her nose and mouth when she exhaled, fluttering
around her like lightning bugs, playing with strands of her hair
and ruffling the coverlet. No student, no Master, no Adept he had
ever seen had ever shown this kind of aptitude for channeling
Power.

“
Gods preserve us, if she
doesn’t learn to contain these forces she’s eventually going to
destroy herself.” Glarian watched as the capricious little whispers
of Power swirled his pipe smoke into fantastical shapes. “Well it’s
not my problem. I’ve saved her once, that’s good
enough.”

-

Callindra woke, her head throbbing with pain
like she had never experienced before. Her leg felt as though it
was on fire but there was a cool cloth on her forehead and the room
had a pleasant scent. A chipped porcelain vase had a bouquet of
tiny white flowers that almost seemed to be shining against the
dark green of the leaves.

She had a vague memory of a kind face after
that bear horribly slain her pursuer and attacked her. The bear!
Her leg! Callindra struggled to sit up.

“
Whoa there youngling, you
aren’t ready for that yet. Let’s not do any further damage to that
leg of yours; I’m no healer and the set isn’t the best in the
world.” She hadn’t heard the man enter the room although he was at
her bedside. His steel-gray hair was bound in a wrist-thick braid
down his back and his face was care-worn with age but still showed
the vigor of a much younger man.

“
Where am I?” Her voice was
thick with pain and came out with a croak.

“
The guest room of my house,
do you remember what happened? I’m sorry, there’s no need to answer
or think about that now. Just know that you’re safe.” He set a bowl
of broth on the bedside table.

“
The bear?” She managed to
say.

“
If you can drink some of
this broth you’ll see it’s from a bear stew.” He said with a
chuckle, “Maybe eating some of your attacker will give you more
strength to recover.”

Callindra let him help her to sit up; his
strangely callused hands were surprisingly strong. She was only
able to drink half of the broth in the roughly carved wooden bowl
before her head was spinning too much. He offered some more
doctored wine and she took a couple swallows.

She seemed to be having trouble focusing her
eyes but still locked her gaze with his, “Who are you?”

“
My apologies, my name is
Glarian.” He said, sketching a bow, “What is yours?”

“
Callindra.” Her eyes closed
and she drifted off to sleep with a mild frown on her
face.

-

The first snow of the season would be coming
in the next day or two; Glarian could smell it on the North Wind
and feel the weather change. His joints and an old scar or two
ached more than usual this morning. In spite of the extra soreness
he always practiced the Korumn each morning just before the sun
rose, the ancient sword forms helped to keep him flexible and ready
for whatever the world decided to throw in his path.

After his morning routine, Glarian made the
short walk to the river and dipped enough water for two days. His
young charge was becoming increasingly irritable and he was pretty
sure she wasn’t going to be able to take the Belladonna tincture
anymore. The traveling Healer hadn’t been by lately and he guessed
the old woman was finished traveling for the winter and was back at
her winter home in the Lord’s compound.

He went back into the house and unbuckled
Sakar, his Greatsword, and hung her back on the wall. It wouldn’t
do to show up in town with that massive blade, he didn’t want
rumors that he was breaking his oath to get back to the Inquisitors
of The Order.

Glarian stoked the fire, adding some
additional wood to ward off the chill breeze that was forcing its
way through the shutters. He put some water on for tea and
porridge, and then began laying out dishes for breakfast.

Sounds of stirring came from the next room,
shortly followed by an outburst from Callindra, “Gods damn it do
you have to make so much noise?”

He was whistling a merry tune when he brought
in her breakfast. In addition to her porridge, he also brought a
small basket of apples, a loaf of bread, a large pitcher of water
and a wedge of cheese. Her eyes widened slightly at the extra food.
The tiny potbelly stove in her room was cold, but he brought the
makings of a fire as well.

“
What’s this?” She was
sitting up, the stubborn thing.

“
I need to go to town, we
need supplies for winter. I will be gone for a couple days so this
extra is to tide you over until I get back.” He said, starting a
tiny fire in her stove with a coal he had brought from the main
room. “Can you read?”

She blinked at the sudden change of subject,
“Uh, a little bit. The Holy Texts never really appealed to me.”

“
I think these will pique
your interest a little more. I never really cared for those stuffy
old tomes either.” He set a small stack of books on the table next
to the food. “I’ll see you in a couple days Callindra.”

“
Glarian!” Her voice stopped
him in the doorway. She was looking at him, eyes wide with fear.
“Hurry back, there is bad weather coming. It’s coming tonight or
tomorrow, and it will be one great grandmother of a
storm.”

He nodded and stopped on his way through the
main room, first banking the fire and then deciding to bring Sakar
after all. The storm coming worried him, it almost seemed as though
the North Wind was unnaturally fierce. Something had changed the
balance and he couldn’t afford to take the chance. How had that
little girl felt the storm so clearly?

With a heavy sigh, Glarian slid the heavy
sword into the slot he had built underneath the floor of his hand
cart. He hated being forced into decisions; especially ones that he
was sure were going to cost him in the end. Glancing back at the
house, he shook his head. “Girl, I know you’re at the center of
whatever this disturbance is. You’d better be worth the
trouble.”

-

Callindra watched the old man walk away and
wondered if she would ever see him again, if she would be able to
survive if he didn’t make it back. She didn’t know how but she knew
absolutely that a storm of earth-shaking proportions was on the
horizon and that foolish old man was going to walk into the teeth
of it.

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she
was as dependent on him as a newborn babe was on her mother.
Callindra hated depending on him, and knew she had been a fairly
uncharitable guest as a result of the pain that wracked her body
and her feeling of helplessness. It wasn’t his fault, but she
didn’t have anyone else to take it out on.

She tried to get more comfortable but only
managed to move the lumps in the mattress around. With a sigh, she
picked up one of the books he had left. It took her a few moments
to figure out the title, ‘The War Journal of General Delanous’ but
once she opened it the story seemed to leap off the page and into
her imagination. She stumbled over many of the words but was
eventually able to puzzle out most of their meanings in context.
Callindra spent the rest of the day reading and in spite of her
lack of aptitude managed to get several chapters into the book.

It was fascinating; this man knew about all
sorts of combat and this journal was a compilation of his notes. He
wrote about everything, from his victories on the battlefield that
thrilled her blood to his conquest in the bedchamber that heated
her face. His failures were documented along with his successes in
graphic gory detail. As the light of the day faded, Callindra read
something that shocked and astounded her.

‘
The fate of the war rested
squarely on the result of the next battle. Success would tip the
scales in our favor and according to our intelligence would
demoralize the armies that King Correanth had arrayed against us,
causing many of them to desert.

‘
Shin is my most trusted
lieutenant and although it went against my assessment of the
situation I decided to follow her recommendation and withheld half
of my cavalry until after Correanth had committed all of his horse
to the field.’

The passage went on to explain about what
tactics had been used and the successful result of the fight but
what stunned Callindra was that his closest lieutenant and best
tactician was a woman. She skimmed the book and found that not only
were many of his soldiers women, several of his officers were. Of
all his conquests, General Delanous never took any of those under
his command to his bed. They were respected comrades who earned
their positions with their combat abilities and nothing else.

“
I could be a warrior, equal
to men instead of having to bow and scrape to them.” Then her hopes
were dashed, “But who would teach me? A weakling like me would
never be able to get a Master.” Her thoughts turned to Jed; he had
believed in her enough to show her what he knew of leatherworking,
perhaps she would find a Swordmaster who would see in her what he
had. She had to believe she would. Callindra blew out the candle
carefully and drifted to sleep, hope blossoming in her breast for
the first time in days.

-

Glarian had found the Healer, purchased some
boneknit root and enough basic supplies to hopefully last the
winter. He could feel something looming large on the horizon as he
approached the inn and it was making him nervous.

“
Strange weather eh?” The
man at the door said, looking at a cloudbank that was towering over
the forest. “Is a bit early for a storm but I ken we’re gettin un.
Yeh need a room fer th night?”

Glarian looked back at the hand cart he was
pulling; he knew that he wouldn’t be able to drag it through any
amount of snow. He shook his head, “I’d best be heading back. If I
get caught out in the snow I’ll never make it home. I do need a
cask of wine and a jug though, something to keep me warm during
those cold winter nights.”

“
Wha yeh need’s a woman ter
warm yer bed.” The doorman said with a grin, “I’ll get yer whiskey
‘ol man.” He raised his voice and shouted into the common room
behind him, “Lex! Get yer arse t’ th’ cellar fer a
cask!”

Glarian waited outside, keeping a watchful
eye on the clouds. A group of Huntsmen and were approaching the
Inn, chatting with several serving maids.

“
Yer still worryin’ ‘bout
tha chit of a girl eh? Dunno why yer wastin yer time. I’m sure tha
‘ol tanner man’s got her in his shack or summat.” The speaker was
one of the three who had been chasing Callindra and he saw the
other two were with him. The fourth Glarian knew from a previous
dispute over a stag; he couldn’t quite recall the man’s
name.

“
Ah, Huntsmen! How went the
bear hunt?” He hailed them cheerfully noting their glares. “I hear
missing a beast is a sign of a terrible winter, hopefully it was a
success?”

“
Tha fuck’r you?” The one
who had been speaking asked, “Anyone’s been in town knows th’ Lord
bagged a huge black monster. Should be a mild ‘un this
winter.”

“
Ferin, tha’s th’ geezer wha
lives inna Lord’s forest.” The fourth man said nervously. He hadn’t
fared well in the disagreement.

“
Issat so? Heard tell yer a
force t’ be reckoned wi ‘ol man.” He put his hand on the longsword
at his belt. “Yeh got some nerve freeloadin’ out there.”

“
Ferin, watch
yehsel-“

“
Oh shut it Wess yeh weasel!
I’ll deal wi th’ ol’ ass.” Ferin looked back at Glarian, “Yeh wan
ter test me ol’ man?”

“
I wouldn’t dream of it
Ferin, testing would imply I had something to teach you.” Glarian
casually leaned back in his cart’s harness, putting his hand on the
hilt of the hidden Sakar. “We both know the Lord’s Huntsmen are the
best in the realm, what in the God’s name could I teach
you?”

The doorman had returned, carrying a clay jug
and behind him a hulking figure was carrying a wooden cask. “Ah,
Glarian, here yeh be, jug ‘o whiskey an cask a red wine.” He
noticed the Huntsmen, “Gents, comin fer a pint are yeh? Good ter
see yeh, hunt wen well, tha’s a good sign, good indeed.”

“
I got some business wi’ th’
‘ol man Shep, yeh and Lex jus’ stay there. Won’ take but a moment.”
Ferin said, his eyes shining. “Yeh owes me an apology ‘ol man. Give
it now an we won’ have issue.”