Warden (9 page)

Chapter 14

Gale didn’t stay very long after that, as she knew from Errol’s message that he was supposed to be leaving early. She headed back towards her family’s farm after extracting a final kiss from Errol and a promise that he would bring her back something nice from the city.

“Well, she’s everything you said she was,” Bander mentioned to Errol as Gale rode away.

Errol simply nodded in agreement. While he and Gale had been saying their goodbyes, his visitors had been busy gathering their things and loading their horses. One of them (presumably Bander), had even done Errol the favor of bringing his horse from the barn and hitching it to the Station House porch.

“Are we ready yet?” Till asked. The question was addressed to no one in particular, but was clearly directed at Errol as he was the only straggler at the moment.

“Yeah,” Errol replied. “Just let me grab my gear.”

With that, he went into the Station House and headed to the storeroom. He got quite a surprise when he opened the door to find Berry sitting on his pack.

“Come to say goodbye?” Errol asked. He sat down on the floor so the little man wouldn’t have to crane his neck to speak to him.

“That, and to tell you to be careful,” the homunculus said.

“We’ll be fine, I think. We plan on sticking to the roads.”

“Not every threat is confined to the Badlands. You’ll find a lot of them on the road, and trouble can often follow you into the city.”

“Well, we’ll have three Wardens with us, so we should be fine. Even though with Prap it’s more like two-and-a-half Wardens.”

A look of severe distaste came across Berry’s face at the mention of Prap’s name. “The man’s a swine,” he said. “He belongs with his own kind in a pen somewhere. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll come to claim him.”

Errol laughed at the mental picture that created – a bunch of hogs marching off with Prap hoisted on their shoulders like some kind of hero.

“Unfortunately,” Errol said, still grinning, “that’s not likely to happen.”

“In that case, try to spend as little time around him as possible. His type always attracts trouble, and some kinds of trouble will follow you forever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Errol said. “Now of course, I have to get going, or they’ll start wondering what’s taking me so long in here.”

As if on cue, Errol heard Prap shout for him to hurry up. Errol shouted back that he needed a minute.

Errol turned back to Berry, and noticed that the little man had jumped down off his pack.

“Are you going to be okay?” Errol asked him. “There won’t be any food deliveries while I’m gone, you know.”

“Of course not,” Berry said dismissively. Needless to say, the homunculus understood; Errol asking for food to continue being delivered while he was away would raise all sorts of questions. “Don’t worry about me. There’s still a bunch of nonperishables in the pantry. I’ll be able to conjure up something to eat.”

Errol was nodding in agreement, but soon found himself frowning as Berry’s words bounced around in his head. There was something about the little man’s chosen verbiage…Errol’s eyebrows shot up as insight hit him like a bolt from the blue.

Conjure!

Berry smiled as he saw understanding in Errol’s eyes. On his part, Errol was about to say something, but then thought about how hard he had worked to avoid becoming indebted to the little man.

“It’s okay,” the homunculus said, sensing Errol’s hesitation. “Ask your question.”

Relief came over Errol. “The Book. Where’s the Book of magic?”

“Right where you left it,” Berry said with a wink.

Errol was confused. “But Till said he searched for magic throughout the Station House and couldn’t find it.”

Berry harrumphed in disdain at the mention of the scribe’s name. “That one. His ‘magic’ was barely anything of the kind. It was easy enough to corrupt his spell and make him miss what he was looking for.”

Errol raised an eyebrow in surprise. He’d known, of course, that the homunculus was a creature
of
magic; however, this was the first real confirmation he’d gotten that Berry could actually
do
magic (although it was something he had suspected for a while).

“Thanks,” he said sincerely to the little man. Then he stood up, grabbed his gear, and left.

Chapter 15

The journey to Apolos was fairly uneventful for the first couple of days. As previously decided, they stuck to the roads and, amazingly, encountered only one creature from the Badlands: a direwolf that loped across the road about fifty feet ahead of them, cast a glance in their direction, and then continued on its way. Other than that, the most exciting thing that happened was probably Errol’s determination that he no longer needed bandages for the wounds on his back that the bladebeak had inflicted.

At night, they typically stopped at one of the roadside campsites. These were well-marked areas, usually right next to the road, that had developed a reputation for being safe and therefore saw regular use by travelers. It was on their third night, when they were eating dinner at such a campsite, that they got their first surprise of the trip.

“Hello,” a voice called out from farther down the road.

Instantly, Errol, Bander, and Prap were on their feet, weapons at the ready. Even though their camp was warded (as it was every night), it didn’t hurt to be prepared. After all, as Errol knew from recent experience, wards had been known to fail.

“Who’s there?” Bander asked, raising his wand and making its light shine brightly.

“A fellow traveler in black,” came the reply.

Errol and his companions visibly relaxed; the person speaking had given them a traditional Warden response. Even more, now that Errol looked in the direction of the voice, he saw the light of another wand approaching. A few seconds later, they were joined not just by another Warden, but also by a second man in brightly-colored clothing (presumably a musician since he carried a gittern).

“Greetings all,” said the new Warden, getting down from his horse. He was young, probably just a few years older than Errol’s own age of sixteen. “I’m Jaden, and my companion is Pierce.” The other man gave a slight wave of his hand as he got down from his own saddle.

“Welcome,” Bander said. “My name’s–”

“Bander,” Jaden interjected with a smile. “There aren’t many Wardens who don’t know who you are.”

Bander acknowledged this with a nod. “My companions: Errol, Till, and Prap.”

The two newcomers shook hands with everyone, and then, after getting their horses settled, found places around the fire. They were friendly and cordial, and it didn’t take long to get their stories from them.

Jaden was, of course, a Warden. He had recently been asked to assume the post in a mid-sized town whose own Warden had been bitten by some weirdling from the Badlands and was at death’s door. However, when Jaden arrived after a month of travel, he was informed that the old Warden had fully recovered. Thus, Jaden was returning to the Warden headquarters to await another appointment.

Pierce was a minstrel around the same age as Jaden who was eager to get to Apolos and make his fortune – hopefully by finding a rich patron. When Jaden passed through his town on the way back to the city, it was only natural that they travel together. That way Jaden could be entertained on the trip back and Pierce wouldn’t have to make the journey alone.

“What about you guys?” Pierce asked. “Why are you out here?”

“Just returning from transcribing logs,” Bander said, answering for the group. Errol saw no reason to correct him.

“It takes three Wardens to guard a scribe?” Jaden asked in surprise. “Things must really be bad on the road in some regions.”

No one commented on this, and Jaden didn’t press for an answer.

After a few moments of silence, Pierce spoke up. “Would anyone like to hear a song?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply began plucking on the strings of his gittern and singing.

First he sang a classic, a well-known ballad about a legendary Warden who dies in order to save the people of his ward. Then he sang another popular tune, a comedic ditty about a silly man who falls in love with a mermaid. After that, he sang a couple of other traditional jingles as well as a few of his own compositions.

Errol had to admit to being impressed. Pierce had a magnificent voice and was a talented musician. Moreover, the songs he’d written himself were just as engaging as the old favorites that he sang. Errol had no doubt that he would quickly find a patron in Apolos. Everyone else seemed to feel the same, because when the minstrel finished playing, his small audience clapped enthusiastically.

Later – after writing in his log, as he did every night – Errol lay back on his sleeping bag, staring at the stars and thinking how serene life was at the moment. Seconds later, he was fast asleep.

Chapter 16

Nothing noteworthy happened over the next two days, and Errol’s group found themselves falling into a routine: ride all day; stop at a roadside camp; eat; listen to Pierce sing; go to sleep. (The only thing that varied on occasion was when Bander would tell the group about some story or escapade from his past.)

Although it shocked him to admit it, Errol found himself missing some of the spontaneity and excitement that came with being Warden of Stanchion. He also understood now how easy it was to get burned out on the road and become eager for the familiarity of your own bed.

On the fifth night, however, everything changed.

That night, as they sat around the fire after Pierce had finished singing, Till put a general question to the four Wardens present.

“Have any of you ever heard of the Giant’s Grove?” the scribe asked.

Errol hadn’t. Prap and Jaden had. Bander, unsurprisingly, as the oldest and most experienced of the Wardens present, had more than simply heard of it.

“I’ve actually been there,” Bander said. “Once.”

“What’s it like?” Jaden asked, clearly excited.

“Beautiful,” Bander said, his eyes glazing over with the memory. “And terrifying.”

“I’d like to see it,” Till said. “We’re not that far from it. I have a map–”

“I don’t need a map,” Bander said emotionlessly. “I remember exactly where it is and how to get there.”

“Then you’ll guide us?” Till asked.

Bander grunted in irritation. “It’s in the Badlands and well out of our way if we’re trying to stick to the road. Going there will cost us an extra day.”

“I’m willing to spend an extra day on the road to see it,” Till said.

“Me too,” Jaden chimed in.

Prap also expressed a desire to see it, as did Pierce, who had been listening to the conversation.

“What about you?” Bander asked, turning to Errol.

“I don’t even know what it is,” Errol admitted.

“It’s…” Bander struggled, searching for the proper words. “I’m not sure I can describe it. It’s just something you have to see. If you want.”

Errol looked at the rest of his companions and felt the weight of their expectations. Bander hadn’t said anything along those lines, but Errol got the distinct impression that the older Warden would only take them there if the decision to go was unanimous.

“Alright,” Errol said after a few moments. “Count me in.”

*****

The next day they set off for the Giant’s Grove, departing from the road and heading into the Badlands. They rode single file through the woods, Bander in front, followed by Jaden, Pierce, Till, Prap and finally Errol.

The order of their procession was something that Bander himself had indicated, and Errol understood why, at least in part. The veteran Warden had placed himself in the vanguard in order to be the first to deal with any threats they might come across. His placement of Errol as the rearguard spoke volumes about what Bander thought of his skills, and Errol couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride. Of course, their two weakest members, Till and Pierce, were in the middle. The positioning of Jaden and Prap, as best as Errol could tell, didn’t really have a strategic basis other than the fact that each of them was placed next to someone they had spent the most time traveling with.

They rode in silence for the most part. Based on Bander’s estimate that this side-quest would cost them a day, Errol assumed that it would take them four to five hours to reach the grove.

As they rode, Errol took careful note of their direction, the position of the sun (when he could see it through the forest canopy), etc. He wanted to be sure he could find his way back if he got separated from the others – or more specifically, Bander.

After they had been traveling for a while, Errol began to notice little things about the forest that seemed unusual. At first, it was the grass; individual blades started getting thicker, longer than he’d ever seen before. Then there were certain varieties of flower and plant that he recognized, except these were a magnitude larger than any he’d come across previously.

The others in his group also noticed the changes around them, and it wasn’t just limited to plants.

“By all that’s holy!” Till exclaimed at one point. “I just saw a centipede as long as a spear!”

At another juncture, Pierce shrieked when something buzzed by his ear, and Errol realized with a start that it was a housefly as big as his fist.

It was pretty clear to Errol that this deviation from their itinerary was probably putting his group in harm’s way to some extent. Errol pulled out his wand and held it at the ready, then whispered to Prap that he should do the same.

The scowl that the bulky Warden gave Errol plainly indicated that Prap didn’t like being told what to do. However, he pulled his wand out anyway, especially when he realized that Jaden and Bander had done so themselves.

For the next few hours, Errol was wildly vigilant. Although nothing assaulted them, the unnatural growth of the plants and insects around his party kept him on edge. He was so engrossed in watching for potential threats that he practically failed to notice when his group stopped moving. As a result, he ended up pulling unnecessarily hard on the reins to make his mount come to a halt, causing the poor animal to whinny in protest.

“Gentleman,” Bander said, “the Giant’s Grove.”

Errol, along with the rest of his companions, stared ahead in wonder. They had just left the edge of a group of oak trees that obviously denoted some kind of line of demarcation, because directly ahead of them the forest took on a decidedly different look.

To call it a mere grove of trees would be a severe understatement, like calling the ocean a puddle of water. What they were seeing almost defied belief: trees with trunks wider than most houses, and so tall that you couldn’t see their tops. Errol thought that he’d had trouble acclimating his mind to the size of the Blemmye, but that was nothing compared to what was before him now.

Bander dismounted and began leading his horse through the gigantic trees. The others, including Errol, followed suit.

“This is incredible,” Till murmured, eyes darting all around.

“Indeed,” Jaden said in agreement. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s because there
is
nothing else like it,” Bander said.

As they walked through the grove, the wonders they encountered were even more spectacular than what they had observed simply getting here. A group of rosebuds the size of wagon wheels on a twenty-foot-tall bush opened as they passed, filling the air with a sweet, ambrosial scent. A leaf the size of a bed floated down from above and landed next to Pierce’s horse. At one point, Errol felt a gust of wind on his back, and – upon turning around – found himself facing a butterfly large enough to carry a man off. It watched him for a second, its steadily-flapping wings a brilliant amalgam of indigo and rouge, and then lazily flitted away.

The marvels of nature they saw around them were far too many for Errol to count, and the beauty of their surroundings was intoxicating. On more than one occasion, he’d hear one of his companions mutter words to the effect of “Incredible!” or “Magnificent!” and while Errol didn’t exactly disagree, he found the descriptions inadequate. There was a majesty to the grove that went beyond words, an ineffable grandeur that mere mortals couldn’t convey because their language had no phrase for it. Suddenly Errol understood Bander’s inability to describe the place.

Thinking of Bander, Errol wondered where the older Warden was leading them. It was obvious that he had a specific place in mind, as he seemed to be walking with purpose rather than just giving them a random tour. Errol was proved right a few minutes later when they came to a clearing, at which point Bander called them to a halt. Ahead of them, in the middle of the clearing, was a group of gigantic mushrooms.

There were twelve of them, each approximately ten feet tall. The caps of the mushrooms were a deep red in color, while the stalks were snow white. Underneath the caps, the mushrooms had gills that moved gently when the wind blew, almost as if they were breathing.

In addition, Errol couldn’t help but notice that the placement of the mushrooms had a certain geometric configuration. They weren’t just in a group but actually formed a perfect circle, with each apparently equidistant from its fellows on either side. It was almost as if the mushrooms, in terms of arrangement and form, were the design of some celestial being rather than the result of the randomness of nature. Errol didn’t know how or why, but there was no doubt in his mind that these mushrooms were the centerpiece of the grove.

Despite the undeniable splendor around them, which still had his companions in awe, Errol had found himself the victim of a growing unease ever since they had entered the Giant’s Grove. As beautiful as it was, there was a wrongness to the place. Plants and animals shouldn’t achieve this level of scale. It was unnatural, even for the Badlands, and the eerie formation of the mushrooms made him edgy and agitated. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he almost missed the conversation going on around him.

“–at makes everything grow so large?” Pierce was asking.

Bander shrugged. “Something in the soil, the air, the water. No one knows.”

“It’s all so beautiful,” Jaden said. “Everyone should have a chance to see something like this.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Errol interjected unexpectedly. All eyes turned to him, and for a moment he didn’t realize why. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but had found that he couldn’t stand it anymore, this fascination everyone else had with the unnatural beauty of the grove.

“Excuse me?” Till said.

“No one else should see this,” Errol repeated. “These trees, these plants, these insects. They’re not a reflection of nature’s glory. They’re monstrosities. Grotesques. We shouldn’t be here.”

Errol hadn’t really expected his words to have an effect – it certainly wasn’t his intention – but they did. The rest of his party looked around sheepishly, as if they could suddenly sense what he was feeling, the subtle offensiveness of their surroundings.

“Come on,” Bander said after a moment, starting to move away. “Now that you’ve all seen it, we should get out of here.”

As they had been doing thus far that day, everyone began turning their horses around in preparation for following Bander. Suddenly, there was a shout from Till.

“Wait!” the scribe exclaimed. Tossing his reins to a surprised Pierce, he suddenly made a dash towards the circle of mushrooms.

“Till!” Bander shouted, releasing his own reins and running after the bald scribe. “What do you think you’re doing??!!”

The bald man stopped just under the cap of one of the mushrooms. Bander stopped a few feet away, as if afraid of getting any closer, with Errol and the others coming over to stand behind him.

“Mushrooms often have medicinal properties,” Till said, staring at the gills of the plant above him. “We should take a sample back with us.”