Warden (8 page)

Chapter 12

It was decided that they would leave for Apolos at dawn the next day. Errol was given specific instructions by Till to bring his Wendigo dagger. The scribe had actually wanted to carry the blade himself, presumably so that he could study it during their journey, prompting an outright refusal from Errol.

“It’s your superiors who want to examine it,” Errol had said. “I’ll relinquish it to them when we get there, but not a moment before, and only with the understanding that I get it back when I leave.”

Till had also wanted to bring back a sample of basilisk blood, but didn’t seem to have the means to transport it. Errol had laughed heartily at his efforts, as a single drop of it would burn a hole through every receptacle the scribe tried using to contain it. The entire process seemed to drive Till mad.

Eventually, the scribe had given up and simply tried to order Errol to bring along the gourd of basilisk blood. Again, Errol had declined, but had smugly told Till and his two companions that one of them could carry it if they wished.

“Bear in mind, however,” Errol had cautioned them, “that basilisk blood is incredibly deadly, emits highly poisonous vapors, and can eat through almost anything. Sooner or later, the gourd it’s in will fail, the blood will come gushing out, and whatever is nearby is going to die or get horribly disfigured. Do you really want something like that bouncing around on a horse as you ride across the countryside?”

As Errol had suspected (and hoped), interest in bringing along the basilisk blood severely waned after he finished his little speech. However, Till promised to send someone back at a future date with a proper container. When asked what the gourd holding the blood was made of, Errol truthfully responded that he didn’t know – that it was a gift from a friend.

Although he didn’t provide the others with any further information on the subject, the “friend” who had given him the gourd was actually a tree nymph. It was part of her way of thanking him for killing the basilisk, and as far as Errol knew it could actually hold the foul liquid indefinitely.

Beyond those few conversations (and acquiescing when Prap identified the sword from the Magnus collection that he’d like as a replacement), there was little conversation between Errol and the others for the rest of the day. Dinner was a mostly-silent affair (although Prap still made insulting comments and continued finding ways to be generally obnoxious). Afterwards, Errol went to pack for the journey.

From what Errol understood, the trip to Apolos would take several weeks via the roads. They could make significantly better time traveling as the crow flies, but that would require cutting across the Badlands. In Errol’s opinion (and everyone else’s), the time they could potentially save via such a shortcut didn’t merit the increased danger they’d have to endure.

Errol considered all of this and more as he gathered together his gear. As usual, the ordinary travel items – clothing, rations, etc. – didn’t require much attention on his part. What required significantly more thought was which weapons he should take.

In essence, this would be one of the lengthiest journeys Errol had ever gone on in his life. In his mind, he saw all sorts of situations unfolding, contingencies in which he might need every type of weapon. The bad news, of course, was that he couldn’t take everything with him. In the end, he relied on a decision-making process that had thus far proven invaluable: What would Tom do?

In Errol’s opinion, his brother would probably encourage him not to overthink the matter. Tom would say he should simply trust his gut. With that in mind, Errol settled on the weapons that – in addition to the Wendigo dagger – had become his staples over the past few months: his one-hand crossbow and a throwing knife that was also made from Wendigo bones (although it lacked most of the properties that made the dagger special). Finally, just for a bit of variety, he decided to bring a longbow as well.

Although it was clearly non-essential, Errol also chose to bring the bladebeak feather with him. In all honesty, he hadn’t liked having his veracity questioned. Thus, while it wasn’t exactly proof of his encounter with the bird (he could have found the plume on the forest floor), if anyone doubted his story, he could at least produce the feather as evidence of some sort.

After he finished packing, he took his gear to the storeroom, where he was again planning to sleep for the night. Satisfied that all he would have to do in the morning was grab his stuff and go, Errol went to the Warden’s office and began penning letters to Stanchion’s mayor, various community leaders, and others to let them know that there would be a prolonged absence on his part, beginning tomorrow. He then marched over to the aviary to send the letters off.

As he loosed the ravens with messages attached, Errol’s main concern was how his ward would fare while he was gone. However, he had written to the Wardens in a few neighboring communities, and he knew that, as a professional courtesy, they would cover Stanchion while he was away. Thus, he wasn’t too worried.

Of the letters he sent, all could be construed as being of a professional nature except the last, which he had written to Gale. There hadn’t been time to make plans to see her, but she was practical, if nothing else. She’d understand that he had to leave and the difficult timing of it, although she probably wouldn’t be wild about the idea of not seeing him for what was likely to be months. (The thought didn’t have much appeal to Errol, either.)

He sighed longingly as he watched the last raven flap away. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he almost didn’t see Bander as he was leaving the aviary.

“I saw the ravens taking flight,” the older Warden said. “I hope one of them was to that pretty girl you mentioned.”

Errol merely gave a curt nod in response. A part of him was still angry at what he felt was deceit on the part of his visitors – especially Bander, whom he had held in high esteem.

“It wasn’t a farce,” Bander said, as if reading Errol’s thoughts. “Yes, it’s the Senior Wardens who will be assessing you – something that, in truth, would normally be my job – and I did indeed know that they were planning to order you to Apolos. That said, you’re going to need an ally, someone who can vouch for you and your capacity to serve as Warden.”

“You?” Errol asked, starting to comprehend.

“Yes. Believe it or not, my word still carries a little weight,” Bander said with a grin that Errol couldn’t help returning, as the older man was clearly understating his influence. “However, I could only advocate for you if I was convinced that you were competent.”

“So you tested me, anyway – and let Prap do the same – even though it wouldn’t ultimately be your decision.”

“Yes, and I’m happy to say that you earned my full endorsement.”

“But why am I being singled out for special treatment? I mean, I can understand stories about Wardens getting blown out of proportion – like the anecdote Till gave about the dragon – but those kinds of tall tales are common. You either believe them or you don’t, but you don’t make a Warden travel all the way to Apolos for something like that.”

Bander was silent for a moment. “Do you know what they’re calling you? The Wendigo Warden. You and that dagger are becoming famous. I mean, I’ve been on the road for six months and even I’m hearing stories about you.”

Errol reflected on this for a moment. He certainly hadn’t engaged in any self-promotion, but a number of people had seen what the dagger could do. He hadn’t even considered the fact that they would tell others, which was only human nature. Errol audibly groaned in frustration at the thought.

“Still,” Errol said, determined to keep the conversation on track, “that’s not enough of a reason to have me come to the city. I can think of a dozen celebrated Wardens who never had anything like this happen to them.”

“True,” Bander said with a nod. “Truthfully, I don’t know why it’s different this time. I just know that the Senior Wardens, including the High Warden himself, believe that it is. For some reason, you’re important.”

“You mean the dagger’s important. I’m just the guy who lucked into possession of it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Bander said. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of, and – with or without the dagger – I’ve seldom been more impressed.”

Chapter 13

Errol awoke slightly before sunup to the sound of voices arguing. He listened for a moment, and then jumped up as he realized who one of the speakers was. He spent a moment making himself presentable, then hurried out of the storeroom.

At the moment, the only light in the Station House seemed to be coming from the kitchen, where a lamp sat on the table, and it was there that, as expected, he found Gale. A statuesque redhead, she was wearing a simple blue dress that accentuated her curves wonderfully. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a ponytail, letting the light from the lamp fall gently across her deep blue eyes and flawless features. Looking at her now, Errol wondered how he had ever considered her anything other than beautiful.

At present, however, it was difficult to fully appreciate her charms, as she was in the process of giving Till – who was on the other side of the table – a severe tongue-lashing. The scribe, looking well out of his depth, was holding his hands up defensively.

“–ht now!” Gale was shouting. “And I don’t ca–”

“What’s going on?” Errol asked, cutting her off.

Gale glanced at Errol, and then moved over to his side, taking one of his hands in her own.

“This idiot,” she hissed, pointing at Till, “was refusing to let me see you!”

“That’s not exactly true,” the scribe said warily. “I just told her that you weren’t awake yet and that she might want to let you sleep since we have a full day of riding ahead of us.”

“No,” Gale insisted, “it was more than that! He-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Errol said, putting a finger to her lips. “It’s okay. Come on, let’s go talk.”

Still holding her hand, he walked towards the door of the Station House. Gale gave Till one last evil look before letting herself be dragged away.

Outside, light was just starting to peek over the horizon. Considering the time, it must have still been dark when Gale left her family’s farm for the Warden Station, and Errol stated as much.

“This close to the Badlands, it’s dangerous to be on the road in the dark like that,” he said, still holding her hand as they walked down towards the end of the porch. “You know better, Gale.”

“Well, it’s not as though I had a lot of choice,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You didn’t give me much notice that you were leaving. After your message came last night, I had to make what plans I could in order to get here before you left.”

Errol couldn’t help smiling at that. He realized how much she was willing to risk just to see him, and he loved her for it.

“I understand,” he said. “But don’t ever do that again.”

“Fine,” she said, moving into his arms. “I promise.” Then she leaned in to give him a kiss.

“Aw, how sweet,” said a voice a few seconds later.

Errol broke away from Gale and looked up to see Prap, who had apparently just stepped out onto the porch.

“I don’t suppose you brought enough for everybody?” Prap said to Gale, licking his lips.

White-hot anger took hold of Errol, and he found himself seized with a desire to throttle the rotund Warden. However, before he could do anything he might have regretted later, Gale shouted something at Prap. Only she didn’t just shout; instead, she let loose a stream of invective so opprobrious and abusive that Errol thought his ears would fall off.

On his part, Prap at first turned red from embarrassment, and then seemed to physically wither under the unrelenting scathing and castigation he was receiving from Gale. In Errol’s opinion, it would have been less punishing to suffer a physical assault.

By the time she finished, a thoroughly chastised Prap was standing on the porch with his mouth open, completely speechless. Even worse, the commotion had roused Bander, who stood just inside the doorway, laughing.

Apparently satisfied that she had put Prap in his place, Gale dragged Errol off the porch and around the corner of the house, away from prying eyes.

“Now, where were we?” she asked, leaning into him.

After hearing what had just come out of it, Errol harbored some momentary doubts about wanting to kiss that mouth. A few seconds later, however, all of his objections had vanished, evaporating like morning dew.

A few minutes later, Gale pulled her lips away from his but stayed close, resting her head on his chest. Errol put his arms around her.

“So, you’re leaving me,” Gale said quietly.

“Not forever,” Errol replied. “And not by choice. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You say that now, but wait until you see those strumpets in the city. You’ll forget about me in half a second.”

Errol laughed. “Unlikely. But even if that were the case, I doubt that the girls in Apolos would be interested in an unsophisticated rube like me.”

“So I’ll get you back by default?” She smacked him playfully on the chest. “No, you’re just their type.”

“And what would you know about it? You’ve barely been out of Stanchion your entire life.”

“I have cousins in Apolos, as well as other cities. They tell me stories…”

Gale kept talking, but suddenly Errol wasn’t hearing her any more. Errol was thinking back on his relationship with her. Ever since fighting the Wendigo together, they’d had a special bond. Moreover, since becoming a couple, he’d opened up to her, shared things with her. Things that he hadn’t told anyone else.

Gale was still talking but stopped abruptly when Errol put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her firmly but gently away from him. With his hands still on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes.

“Errol?” she said, smiling a little nervously. “What is it?”

“Have you told anybody about me?” he asked after a few seconds.

“What…what do you mean?” she asked. “I’ve told people we’re a couple, if that’s what you’re asking. Was I not supposed to do that?”

She suddenly seemed nervous, clearly wondering if she’d done something wrong. Her eyes began to look a little watery, and it came to Errol that she was thinking that he was embarrassed of her – embarrassed about being in a relationship with her.

“No, not that,” he said, and felt relief flood through her. “Everybody already knows that, which is great as far as I’m concerned.”

She smiled, then gently removed his hands from her shoulders and gave them a kiss.

“Then what?” she asked, still holding his hands in her own.

“The things I’ve told you about what I’ve experienced in the Badlands, like the basilisk. Have you told anybody about that stuff?”

She seemed to think for a second, then nodded. “Um, yes. I’ve mentioned it to my parents, maybe one or two of my sisters. And several of my cousins.”

“Your cousins? The ones in Apolos?”

“Yes. Why? Did I do something wrong?”

He pulled her close again, giving her a fierce hug.

“No, sweetie,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all.”