Man of Shadows
David Holmes
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Darras was a veteran of a brutal five year war against a despicable yet powerful enemy. Ordered to hold for three days as the last of his defeated nation’s people were loaded onto colonisation ships, he’d done the impossible and held for ten, leaving the invaders with nothing but an empty port and massive casualties. Their revenge was terrible, those few that survived the final onslaught were impaled before him even as he was tortured to try and reveal where his nation had fled. Finally, he died in agony, alone and mocked… and then discovered that death was not to be his, with a new life and a new challenge with the blessings of a goddess who needed his help.
A Novel by David Holmes.
Edited by David Harper and John Murray.
Foreword.
To David Harper, friend, editor and sadly no longer with us.
Contents
Foreword.
Contents
The Gods.
Prologue
Chapter 1)
Chapter 2)
Chapter 3)
Chapter 4)
Chapter 5)
Chapter 6)
Chapter 7)
Chapter 8)
Chapter 9)
Chapter 10)
Chapter 11)
Chapter 12)
Chapter 13)
Chapter 14)
Chapter 15)
Chapter 16)
Chapter 17)
Chapter 18)
Chapter 19)
Chapter 20)
Chapter 21)
Chapter 22)
Chapter 23)
Chapter 24)
Chapter 25)
Chapter 26)
Chapter 27)
Chapter 28)
Chapter 29)
Chapter 30)
Chapter 31)
Chapter 32)
Chapter 33)
Chapter 34)
Chapter 35)
Chapter 36)
Chapter 37)
Chapter 38)
Chapter 39)
Chapter 40)
Chapter 41)
Chapter 42)
Chapter 43)
Chapter 44)
Chapter 45)
Chapter 46)
Chapter 47)
Chapter 48)
Chapter 49)
Chapter 50)
Chapter 51)
Chapter 52)
Chapter 53)
Chapter 54)
Chapter 55)
Chapter 56)
Chapter 57)
Chapter 58)
Chapter 59)
Chapter 60)
Chapter 61)
Chapter 62)
Chapter 63)
Chapter 64)
Chapter 65)
Epilogue)
The Gods.
God |
Purpose |
Allfather Supreme God
Bennos God of swamp and marshlands.
Bimmlat God of mines.
Bolgasa God of inebriation.
Denigratingly known as the God of drunks.
Bragos Claims to be the God of stone, but is simply the God of a Dwarven cult.
Colanthus God of war.
Crannock God of lost causes.
Known as the Guider of Destiny to the Lizardmen. Also known as the God of thieves.
Dark Lord God of entropy and decay.
Darmela Goddess of wealth and trade.
Doriel Goddess of the woods and woodland creatures.
Known as Lomaris to the forest folk.
Epelmos God of plagues and disease.
Erren Goddess of light, protector of life and growth.
Known as Wenderos to the Elves and Gilmea to the Dwarves.
Hallis Goddess of healing and fertility.
Known as the Goddess of courtesans and, denigratingly, as the Goddess of whores.
Lanfross God of the heated depths.
Osruit God of rivers and lakes and the water-folk.
Pelegard God of blacksmiths and craftsmen.
Rustav God of lightning.
Erroneously believes he is the God of life as electricity runs through all things.
Saltak God of the plains.
Serulon Goddess of judgement and balance.
Not powerful as such, but the only God who can contact the Allfather directly.
Szavona Goddess of sleep.
Tsumi God of dreams and the Realm within them.
Venicia Goddess of the air and all flying creatures.
Coming in from nowhere,
staying only a moment,
and then moving on.
Prologue
The cavern had been formed by a gaseous bubble in a lava stream several million years before its discovery. Nor was the first to discover it Human… or any other intelligent races upon the planet. Indeed, those races didn’t exist as such and were merely an idea in the thoughts of a goddess… of sorts.
The initial discoverer was a dragon, or what later races would call a dragon—huge, covered in scales, claws and fangs to match, a creature of nightmares. A lair was required for survival, and this was the perfect lair. Situated between two dormant volcanoes, it was safe, even warm and, more importantly, within flying distance of a food source that would not quickly run out.
For centuries, the dragon hunted with abandon. Occasionally, it fought with its kind and generally lived from day to day until the weather finally changed, and an ice age in the world began. And so the dragon, being a magical creature, slept in the form of a stasis, to be awoken when the ice retreated, and food became abundant again. Three times, the pattern repeated, yet for the fourth, something changed; the air in the cavern became… tainted, and so the dragon slept and dreamt, her slumbers undisturbed by the changes in the world.
Occasionally, the cavern was ‘discovered’ in the long millions of years of planetary rotations, usually by other predators. However, both the air and the magic of the dragon put them into stasis along with the dragon until, finally, a truly intelligent race evolved and began its climb to greatness. Being attuned to magic, these people discovered the cavern and realised swiftly what it was that caused any to enter to slowly collapse and sleep, though initially, they thought them dead until they were retrieved.
And so magic was used to protect the explorers, and they soon discovered the dragon. This, to them, was the equivalent of finding a sleeping god… though even they understood the terrible risk of awakening such a god. Being reptilian, they studied their remote ancestor and soon learned to tap into its incredible power to use as their own. They even discovered a use for the shed scales of the dragon as a form of a servant, one that could possess the unwary, though their elite were far too powerful to allow such a thing to happen to them, though the Ubaid servant class were often used as possessed.
Time passed, and a mighty civilisation grew and thrived, intolerant of others; they sought not to dominate but to exterminate any rivals, root and branch. And then they fell into the very strife which had propelled their race to glorious heights. Factionalism had broken out within the race as several groups sought to elevate their status to domination over the others. The unity which had propelled them to the heights shattered like a dropped pane of glass as the only enemies left to fight were their own people. The immense power of the first ones… as later races came to call them, was used to attack other factions, leading to mass destruction and genocide of all… save one.
Upon realising the inevitable death approaching, the sole survivor of the first ones had cancelled the protective magics that permitted him to breathe and work in preserving the great mother. He joined her in the dreamtime of her spell, hoping his people might survive and awaken him.
Almost a million years passed, and eventually, the descendants of the creatures who survived the genocide finally reached intelligence and created their own civilisations. Dominant over them were the Elven people, though again, this was short-lived as their civilisation collapsed due to the avarice and greed of their Emperor, and the other races finally came into their own as the gods… well, most of them had planned.
“I see you,” a powerful yet seemingly distant voice crossed the thoughts of the dreaming first one.
“Who might you be?” an eventual reply came.
“A god, your god if you desire power,” the voice replied.
“Power is all.”
“Then awaken, form the spells of protection and prepare to be dominant over the creatures of this world.”
“I am the last?” the creature asked, though almost indifferently.
“You are… of your people, at least.”
“A pity.”
“Use the scales of the mother to bring the pathetic civilisations down low, and eventually, I will create a mate for you.”
“It shall be done,” the creature replied, a hint of interest in his tone.
“You have an Ubaid and a Dragonoid to use as your direct servants, amongst others; use them wisely.”
“I will, though what do I call you… my god?”
“I have no name.”
“Then, Dark Lord?”
“As you will.”
Chapter 1)
‘It won’t be long now’, Darras, the man known simply to his troop as ‘the Captain’, sighed mentally. Their ammo was out, and the Trenichans finally brought up a cannon to breach the gate.
“Been an honour, Captain,” Doc Washal said quietly from behind him.
“It has, for me too,” Darras, who was actually a Colonel, replied. “Is it done?”
“Aye, I put them to rest with the last of the morphia.”
“I suspect they’re the lucky ones,” Darras sighed.
“Aye, no doubt of it, but we who are left won’t run, you know that.”
“Wouldn’t do us much good; food ran out two days ago,” Darras nodded, glancing over at the remaining old men who made up his ‘special command’.
“Aye, those bastards would hunt us down for sport and impale us as decorations around the ruins here anyway.”
“That they would. An ignominious end to what’s left of the finest Regiment still on Ostari soil.”
“We finally taught them respect, though,” Doc grinned.
“True, but too little too late.”
***
The war had begun five years before when the Empire of Trenich finally made good its threats to conquer its old rival, the Republic of Ostar. Taking advantage of a bitter civil war in the Kingdom of Sumallis, Ostar’s once powerful ally, they had surged across the border in a mass wave of riflemen and cavalry, swiftly capturing Eonis, the border citadel, with cannon strikes and then putting all males to the sword or occasionally impaling them as a warning to any about resisting the new regime. The women and children were then led away in chains to the ever-voracious slave markets of the Empire, most of them never to be seen again.
Darras had formed a volunteer troop of archers from the villages of the Landanan forest. Whilst many of the newly formed regiments used muskets, Darras knew the value of his company as scouts and infiltrators and used his few connections in the capital, Tira, to have them assigned as such.
The first major battle at the Torgallen fords had taught the Ostari a bitter lesson. Though victorious in driving the Trenichans back, the cost in lives had been horrendous as antiquated tactics had caused the ‘Generals’ to march their troops in line formation against the experienced Trenichan divisions, causing many to be shot down in waves as the longer-ranged, more accurate rifles of the enemy slew them en-masse. Only the courage of the Ostari had stopped a rout as they eventually closed with the now retreating Trenichan rear-guard to win a smidgen of honour finally.
The Landanan volunteers had come out of it well enough. Their ability to fire archery volleys from behind cover had caused the Trenichans many casualties. It enabled the volunteers to seize a supply wagon laden down with the new-fangled rifles and ammunition to be sent to the rear for study. For his actions, Darras received a promotion to Captain, a rank he held for almost the length of the war, as his outspoken opinions rubbed many a senior officer up the wrong way, particularly when, as often happened, he was proven right.
The first year of the war seesawed back and forth. However, it was becoming evident to Darras that the Trenichans, with their greater forces, were becoming dominant. Although this was obvious to him, it seemed to escape those higher up, though a look at the casualty figures told you that an Ostari victory often came at a very high price. Worse yet, though, was the Trenichan atrocities they committed as they advanced, with men killed, women and children enslaved and a policy of not taking prisoners as even non-combatants found with a defeated Ostari army being either enslaved for any women or impaled for any men, even doctors and other medics.
The second year was grimmer, though the Ostari had finally thrown off the shackles of incompetent Officers and outdated tactics. General Gemerris fought a brilliant, if futile, tactical retreat back towards Tira, the Republican capital, bleeding the advancing Trenichans white in strategic battles and minor victories. Yet their numbers counted, and a glorious retreat was still a retreat.
Darras now commanded two companies, one of archers, though in dwindling numbers, and one of riflemen and a mortar unit. Tasked with scouting, his men could ghost through enemy lines and report weaknesses and troop movements. The actions of companies like his kept the Ostari in the war. Yet most now knew they would lose, even if speaking it aloud in the wrong company would have you sent to a penal brigade, as the Ostari no longer executed cowards or seditionists; they needed every able-bodied person they could get, willing or unwilling.
Tira's siege took place in the third year and was a bloody disaster for the Trenichans for most of its length. The Ostari were still in the field and, despite massive counter-vallation works, were often able to wreak havoc on the entrenched and miserable Trenichans. In this, Darras and his companies thrived, even coming to the ears of a Republican Senator who begged Darras to marry his daughter to enable her to get to safety.
So, Darras found himself with a wife in a coldly correct marriage; she not understanding this charismatic leader, and he not understanding her wellborn ways. Yet, two daughters were produced as Erriane was with the many Republican elites now encamped in Trevorne, close to the Ring mountains and the freeport of Sallash.
Tira fell at the beginning of the fourth year, though for the Trenichans, it was a purely pyrrhic victory. The remaining defenders fought like maniacs to the last man, and the great treasury of the Republic was found empty, leaving the enemy with massive casualties and no real reward. Worse was to come when the last defenders set off the naphtha barrels stored in the sewers and cellars of the central citadel, immolating thousands of Trenichan soldiery amid their celebration.
For the Ostari, though, there had been a glimmer of hope. An exploration ship driven off course by a storm at the beginning of the second year discovered a massive new land before Tira was finally encircled. It was also free of humanity, as far as they could tell. And so, the Republic secretly built a colonisation fleet based out of Sallash to transport its people to this new land, knowing the Trenichans were not a seafaring race and, like as not, could not cross the ocean to find them. They were initially sending farmers and scouts to the new territories to prepare for the artisans and craftsmen the following year. Few amongst the remaining armies knew of this secret, yet those that did were ordered to buy time at any price. This was because there was only one way into Sallash that an army could take; the other routes were only suitable for goats, birds and fools.
And so, the war went on, General Gemerris guiding his dwindling regiments through what later historians would recognise as the greatest fighting retreat in history. Towns and cities fell, often contested to the last man as the seemingly inexhaustible Trenichan armies came on regardless. Yet often enough, the invaders now found the land they seized empty and uncared for, with no one to enslave or force to work it for Trenicha. Also, scorched earth tactics were put in place and volunteer suicide squads took every opportunity to harry Ostar’s enemies, frequently carried out by the old who had nothing left to lose. Yet, finally, it was done. Trevorne, the last city, was evacuated, along with all those in the surrounding countryside. Over the ring pass, the people moved through the gates of the Hakken Fort and down to the waiting ships in Sallash, even as the last harvest in the vast valley was gathered.
***
“Got a visitor, Captain,” Drusas, his aide, announced, sticking his head through the threadbare canvas of the tent.
“Send them in,” Darras replied, his hopes of a night’s sleep dashed again.
Darras immediately sprang to attention as General Gemerris stepped through the awning, yet wondering what now, what else could there be? Ostar was no more.
“Relax, Captain,” Gemerris chuckled.
“Sir!” Darras replied. “How may we assist you, sir?”
“I said relax,” Gemerris stated. “I bring word of your wife and daughters. They are safe now and beyond the Trenichan’s reach.”
“Safe?”
“It’s a secret, but we’ve been evacuating all we can to a new land. In case you get captured, I won’t tell you where, but Ostar will survive and your loved ones with it.”
“That’s good to know; I assume your army will go soon?”
“We will, but… there’s an issue…”
“You want Hakken Fort held?” Darras nodded, guessing his mission.
“I do. It’s a suicide mission, though, so choose wisely.”
“Permission to be honest with them?”
“Granted.”
“I’ll take only the old guard who volunteer. No young men, just those of us who have little to lose, save our lives,” Darras replied. “They can take our colours with them to hopefully fight again.”
“You intend to remain?”
“If I stay, they’ll fight.”
“Yes, yes. You’re probably right,” Gemerris nodded. “Give me at least three days, longer if you can manage it. Every hour gives us more colonists, food, and a chance to rebuild and return.”
“I’ll get you your three days, General. I swear it!”
“Would that I never had to ask,” Gemerris sighed. “A final gift for you. A long overdue promotion to Colonel. You upset too many above you simply by being right.”
“If we’d fought the war our way from the beginning, we’d be storming the gates of Drach, their capital, right now,” Darras chuckled darkly.
“Aye, I believe you to be right, Colonel,” Gemerris nodded grimly. “Now, give me the time Ostar desperately needs.”
***
An hour later, Darras called his ‘old guard’ to a meeting in the mess tent and explained what he intended to do.
“Volunteers only. I won’t kid you, this one we won’t be coming back from as there will be nowhere to go.”
“Been with you from the beginning, Captain. Not leaving your side now,” Drusas spoke up. “Got five sons with my Marita. They’re all with the General and likely to be safe if we give them the necessary time.”
“You’ll need a ‘doc’ to patch up the wounded,” Washal, a civilian horse doctor, stated. “Keep them on the walls as long as possible.”
“I procured a batch of morphia,” Darras stated. “Your last order before the end will be to send them off gently.”
“Goes against the grain, but in this case, it would be a mercy,” Washal nodded.
Darras wasn’t surprised when all the old men volunteered. They’d all volunteered at the beginning, stuck with him through the most terrible of times, and now, facing a stark reality, chose to stand one last time to buy time for their nation to escape.
“Colours?” Duras asked.
“Going to the rear with the young’uns,” Darras replied. “Damned if there will be nought left but memories to remember us by.”
There was a satisfied grunt from all who heard. Most had little use for the Republic and even less time for its ‘Academy Officers’, at least the ones at the beginning of the war. But, because Darras had asked them to fight for the Republic, they would.
“We will fight under the Flag of the Republic,” Darras chuckled. “The General left his banner behind knowing what I’d do.”
“Good man, the General,” Private Zursti nodded. “Wish he’d been in charge from the start.”
“Guess you won’t make it back up to Corporal… again,” Kartun, a Sergeant, chuckled.
“Easy come, easy go,” Zursti laughed, then gasped as he caught the single stripe Darras threw to him. “Thank you, sir!”
“We always did do better when you were a Corporal… and sober,” Darras said with a straight face until a grin broke out as the tent roared with laughter.
“Aye, you have the right of that, sir.”
“Scrounge as much ammo as you can get, enough food for a week and say your goodbyes; get the clerk to write them for you if you can’t,” Darras ordered.
“Sir!” came the loud and proud reply.
***
The gate finally fell as one of the hinges gave way. Darras and what was left of his men stood to the side as the Trenichans surged forward into the gap. Although the defenders were armed only with rifles and bayonets and Darras with his ceremonial sword, the sheer savagery of the Ostari drove the attackers back. This was, however, a minor setback to the Trenichans as the Ostari were tired and hungry, and no matter their courage, it could not match a rifle volley. Yet still, they fought, going down one after another but not giving up. Darras was one of the few left, but finally, another volley took him and the remainder down as the Trenichans finally took the fort.
Badly wounded and dying by a gut shot, Darras, singled out by the Trenichans, was bound and tied and placed leaning against the wall of one of the buildings facing the courtyard as the Trenichans dug pits and dropped stakes in them and hoisted his men, not all of them entirely dead yet, onto them as, finally, an Officer entered the fort to view their work. He snapped out a few orders, and a cavalry troop cantered away to scout out the way to Sallash. It was then that he came across to view Darras and sneered.
“You cost us far too many men; for that, you’ll pay,” he stated in accented Ostari.
“We’d pay even had we surrendered at the first sight of your barbarians,” Darras replied with a gasp, then a chuckle.
“True, but we’d have, at least, made it quick for you.”
“Go ahead, knock yourself out. I did my duty,” Darras replied as a trail of blood dribbled from his lips.
“The second to last stand in a nothing fort of a nothing nation. Well done indeed,” the Officer chuckled harshly. “Enjoy your last view.”
With that, he marched off as the rest of his army began preparations to move through the fort and down the pass to Sallash and what they thought would be the last battle of the war, many spitting on Darras as they passed.
It was an agonising two days later as Darras slowly died in torment until a cavalry troop re-entered the fort led by the same officer, who looked irritated, to say the least.
“Where are your people!” he almost screamed in Darras’ face after a trooper threw water over him to bring him back to lucidity.
“On… stakes, in front of me,” Darras gasped, mocking the man.
“Your army, where did it go?”
“Where you won’t find them till they return and do to you what you did to us,” Darras laughed hoarsely and then moaned in agony as one of the troopers twisted a piece of wood in his wounds.
“Tell us, and I’ll end this for you,” the officer snarled.
“Don’t you just hate little weasels who beg for stuff with a threat?” Darras replied with a moaning chuckle.
“Keep him alive as long as you can whilst you question him,” the officer ordered a man in a dark robe who had travelled with the troop.
“By your command, Excellency,” the man murmured. “Though I doubt it will be much more than we know now.”
“Nevertheless, his screams will assuage my wrath.”
Darras lasted another three days before toxic shock finally overcame him. Through it all, other than screams and moans, he said no further word as the torturer took him to an agonising death. In the end, the Trenichans just threw his body into a pit with his men, leaving them to rot and be prey for the wild animals as their army withdrew and headed north to set up their new frontier facing the Sumallisi border.
***
Darras awoke, feeling no pain for what seemed like the first time in an age. He was also lying in an incredibly comfortable bed, luxuriously comfortable at that.
“Guess I’m in heaven,” he chuckled aloud as he sat up, only to realise his missing limbs were now re-attached and looked clean and younger. He was also wearing a soft cottonish garment of some type, and when he got up, he found a matching pair of slippers lying on the floor next to the bed.
Going over to a window, he paused and saw his reflection in one of the biggest mirrors he had ever seen. Staring back at him was the young volunteer Lieutenant who had called his folk to arms; his reflection was clean-shaven and unscarred. Continuing over to the window, he stared at a glimpse of paradise, a flowered garden surrounding a lawn with what appeared to be fruit trees set back into the surroundings.
Then, the smell of frying bacon hit him, and his stomach growled in response. Looking around, he spotted an open doorway, and through it, he saw a set of stairs and decided, heaven or not, he was hungry and wanted to find out where the smell was coming from.
Downstairs, he passed through a beautifully furnished lounge, following the scent until he reached a kitchen where a young woman was cooking bacon, humming some tune, though not one he recognised.
“Sit, Colonel,” she commanded without even looking at him. “I’m sure you’re hungry, so enjoy the breakfast, and I’ll answer your questions.”
As he was told, Darras sat at a table and poured water from a pitcher, nearly dropping it when the woman turned, as she appeared to be his wife, Erriane… only not quite. She placed a plate full of bacon, sausage, tomatoes, beans, fried potato and eggs along with toast in front of him and one for herself, indicating for him to eat.
“Who are you?” he finally asked after taking the edge off his hunger by eating half of his food.
“I’m what your people would call a goddess. You can call me Erren.”
“Why do you look like my wife… sort of?”
“I can look like whatever I want,” she replied, her form changing to different people in Darras’ past before returning to the woman he’d first seen.
“Is this heaven?”
“No, this is my home.”
“I guess I owe you my thanks, but I’m also sure you have your reasons,” he nodded.
“Correct, though there’s no rush. Eat, then go back upstairs and dress,” she replied. “I’ll then show you around, as I have never had a chance to show off my home before.”
Upstairs, Darras found soft leather garments to wear that hadn’t been there when he awoke and soft cotton undergarments that, although new to his eyes, he knew what they were for. Finally dressed, he went down to talk to Erren.
“What finally happened in the war?”
“The Trenichans consolidated their gains over the land of Ostar,” Erren explained. “But were drawn into other conflicts on their borders, costing them both men and resources. They also faced massive internal slave revolts that were brutally and mercilessly suppressed. Though again, it cost them men that they were finally struggling to replace. The Sumallis civil war ended, and they also faced them across a hostile border, though the Sumallisi chose not to fight them, preferring to recover and foment trouble by proxy.”
“And the Ostari?”
“Expanded and grew in the New Republic. Five years later, they secretly contacted Sumallis and channelled newly found gold reserves, which they mined and used towards keeping the Trenichans never knowing peace. After a further ten years, they landed at Sallash, annihilated the weakened garrison and advanced to the fort where you fell. They rebuilt and adapted it to the advanced arms they’d been developing. What was left of the bones of your men were retrieved and given a proper burial with full military honours. They renamed it Fort Blaine in honour of you and your men.”
“My wife and daughters?”
“I know you had a seemingly cool relationship with Erriane, but that was more down to circumstances,” Erren explained. “In truth, she admired you, as did many in the Republic, though not their military elite. She was with General Gemerris when those you had ordered to leave returned, standing along with your daughters to receive a salute from them even as she wept at your loss. She then threw herself into ensuring the returned troops were cared for and the military rebuilt. She married a merchant and provided him with two sons. But her greatest achievement was becoming the Republic's President and signing the order for re-conquest.”
“Did the re-conquest succeed?”
“It’s still ongoing, but yes, it will. Repeating rifles, multi-barrel guns, and accurate artillery are decimating the now demoralised Trenichans, whose attempts to sue for peace have been rejected twice as they are in headlong retreat. Erriane has told their senior plenipotentiary that she will only accept unconditional surrender. There is a coup brewing in the Trenichan nobility to depose their Emperor as they face certain defeat and have no friends left due to their excesses in their conquests.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You have every right to be proud of her.”
“I am. Trust me on this. I am.”
“And now to my business with you.”
“I assume you want my expertise, such as it is?”
“Yes, though not as a soldier,” Erren answered with a smile.
“But, that’s all I know?” Darras replied, somewhat puzzled.
“Don’t be so modest. You knew stealth when you formed your company and refined it throughout the war.”
“So, I need to track down someone or sneak up on them?”
“Yes, though it’s more like ‘some… thing’.”
“I think you’d better start at the beginning,” Darras sighed, realising he was in for a few surprises.
“The land I’m sending you to has no official name, or rather, each nation and race has a different name for it, assuming they realise it is a planet.”
“Race?”
“Yes, unlike on your world, there are several different intelligent species,” Erren replied. “Mostly the type you heard about in your fairy tales.”
“So… elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, etc?”
“Yes, and others too. If you need to go to their lands, I’ll give you more details,” Erren nodded.
“So, what is this ‘thing’ I’ll be sneaking up on?”
“I’m not sure what they call themselves as their thoughts have been closed to me by my brother, but I guess you could call them ‘shadows’ or ‘possessing shadows’ to be more accurate.”
“I’m not sure what you mean…” Darras interrupted.
“My brother… though it’s complicated, so that term will have to do, has created something which can possess a living creature. When out in the open, which is rare, they look like shadows,” Erren explained.
“And they can possess anyone?”
“No, but they are drawn to certain people and races and use individuals within them to cause… issues within their tribe or against other tribes and races.”
“They cause wars?” Darras enquired, a trace of anger showing.
“Yes, or atrocities or simply murder or torture on a whim.”
“And you need me to deal with them?” Darras asked.
“Yes, because despite being human, you are not a human of this world and are somewhat… different,” Erren informed him with a smile.
“Because I’ll be able to see these shadows?”
“See and deal with them.”
“Whilst also having to deal with the denizens of this world, some of whom will probably not like a human in their territory?”
“I knew you were smart,” Erren clapped her hands brightly.
“I assume I’ll have some way of dealing with them?”
“Well, yes. Your body makeup means you’ll be able to see them, and your touch will damage them to the point of… dissipating them,” Erren confirmed. “Seizing one of them by the throat will cause them to release their prey and… die from your grip.”
“I’m going to assume that they will object to this?”
“Oh yes, and they can use magic against you. Something you won’t be able to use.”
“Magic?”
Chapter 2)
“Yes, magic,” Erren confirmed. “As in throwing spells around.”
“And I can’t use magic?”
“No. Your… aura is the antithesis of magic. Hence, you can see and destroy these shadows; normal humans can’t.”
“But they can set me on fire if they see me first?”
“The more experienced ones can, though chanting the spell will give you time to react,” Erren explained.
“So no, just flicking their fingers and… boom!?”
“No, wizards and witches study long and hard to gain a limited mastery over magic, but they don’t understand it. Some races, like the Elves and Dwarves, are better at it than humanity due to their longevity. However, you must be careful about upsetting an experienced wizard or witch of any race.”
“And if I’m injured?”
“If you die or return here, I’ll reset you. But, whilst out in the world, you will be mortal, so try to avoid injury, as it will still hurt. I don’t need a hero, just someone who will do the task I set him without fuss or fanfare.”
“Do you know what the purpose of these shadows is?”
“For the moment, no. But I’m working on it,” Erren replied.
“I’ll do it, but why can’t you do it?”
“One of our rules is we can’t take physical form in this world,” Erren explained. “Only someone who is physically there can deal with these creatures.”
“And you have a brother who has some kind of reason to unleash these creatures on this world?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm… won’t he interfere if I go… extinguishing these shadows?”
“Almost certainly. Though he’s limited, as am I, as to what we can do.”
“So he can direct his other… servants to interfere with my task?”
“Yes, though I’m hoping you can avoid such incidents and simply get to the target and eliminate it,” Erren replied with a smile.
“Yes, one-on-one, I’ll stand a chance,” Darras nodded.
“I will equip you with gear that will protect and enable you to fight, if necessary.”
“Do I get a magic sword?” Darras chuckled, already guessing the answer.
“No, you couldn’t use one anyway,” Erren replied with a tinkling laugh. “Also, unless you are a soldier, most nations will not permit you to carry a sword, simply a dagger.”
“No firearms?”
“No. They have magic for that.”
“What of bows?”
“That you can have. It’s a hunter’s tool, so it is permitted.”
“And my garb will protect me?”
“Yes, it will look ordinary but will be lined in a special light mail that non-magical blades won’t penetrate.”
“But won’t weigh me down?” Darras asked, frowning slightly.
“No. It’s made from a material our world calls mithril. It wasn’t available yet on your world.”
“Fair enough,” Darras nodded. “Now tell me, where do you want me first?”
“Not so fast,” Erren laughed. “There’s much you need to know, plus rest and look around.”
“Guess that was a bit impulsive,” Darras chuckled.
“Just a bit. Besides, I get to show off my home and enjoy the company of someone who isn’t seemingly overwhelmed by my presence,” she said with a smile. “You’ll be able to understand and speak any language you hear,” Erren began as they stood, and she linked her arm through his. “That said, certain races are not going to be… pleasant with you as they don’t particularly like humans or humanity… or anyone else, come to that.”
“But I’ll still have missions amongst them?”
“Yes. They won’t try to kill you on the spot… well… most of them. But you’ll struggle to get good service or information from them.”
“And you’ll frown if I get aggressive, I take it?”
“Only if you start it,” Erren smiled. “I’ll be most disappointed in you if you go around picking fights.”
“I’m a soldier; my job was ending them,” Darras chuckled. “Is there an honour code?”
“Only amongst some nobility. Yes, your targets will include them as these shadows seem to infiltrate amongst them, seeking to corrupt the already corrupted further.”
“I assume there are some good nobles?”
“Oh yes, but they aren’t actively seeking out any troublemakers,” Erren replied with a thin smile.
“These shadows seem more than a nuisance,” Darras noted thoughtfully.
“They are, though I’m not the one who will go toe to toe with them.”
“Do they cooperate?”
“Not that I know of, though they do appear to work to a similar rationale.”
In all this, Erren took him around her home, showing off in a sense, though he had to admit he was impressed. It was both beautiful and aesthetically pleasing to the eye. He also realised she’d given him some knowledge about what was what and how to use it… including the toilet, as the Ostari commoners of the Republic used long drop privies… when they used them at all. Soldiers often enough just dug and used a pit when in camp, even the women. Night soil collection was known to happen in the cities and towns, but he wasn’t personally knowledgeable.
He was amazed at her bathing area. It was huge, kept to a decent temperature and was self-cleaning. The garden was beautiful too, full of vivid colours, soft, gentle on the feet with grass and wonderfully scented.
“So, you created all this to accommodate your… human body?” Darras asked.
“In a sense, I created it for us,” she replied.
“Us?”
“Yes. This is a place of refuge for you, where you can relax and enjoy good food and good company, as in me,” she said with a smile.
“What of others?”
“Others?”
“Might other gods visit?”
“It’s possible. You can also bring other people here, though I’ll be the final judge as to how long they may stay,” she replied.
“I’d expect a visit from your brother when he realises you’re interfering with his creations,” he chuckled.
“Probably,” Erren giggled. “He can’t harm you here or do much of anything except talk.”
Darras raised an eyebrow and gave her a doubtful look.
“That I know of,” she temporised. “I suppose he could punch you.”
“Just not kill or use magic on me?”
“Yes, though that would be rude and provoke a reaction from me. One he would not like at all.”
“Does he have a name?”
“He’s worshipped as the ‘Lord of Darkness’ on the world where you’ll be working, though he has many names,” Erren replied thoughtfully. “I call him ‘brother’.”
“Do you have other brothers?”
“Oh yes. Lots of them, sisters too,” she replied with a wide smile.
“And you just call them brother or sister?” he quizzed.
“Yes.”
“How would they know who you were speaking to if there were two of them here at once?” Darras asked, quite puzzled.
“Oh, we’d know. It’s a god thing.”
“Back to my missions,” he began, realising, from her responses, that Erren was not quite human. “I assume you can’t just drop me on a target?”
“No, you’ll use a gateway. All lands and races have them. They’re a gift of the gods.”
“Even the more primitive ones?”
“Yes, though they don’t understand them, and the civilised races avoid them as they tend to kill strangers when they run across them.”
“What’s to stop an army using one to invade?”
“The ‘one at a time’ rule, plus only people can use them, not horses or other transport animals.”
“How do I survive if you send me to a hostile tribal area?”
“They don’t normally hang around the gateways. You’ll be able to emerge, then disappear,” Erren replied. “If any are near, I’ll ensure they avoid the area for a while.”
“Magic?”
“Yes, an aversion spell. Plus, unlike the races of this world, I don’t need to use a casting circle.”
“Works for me,” Darras replied with a smile.
“I’ll also provide you with various documents permitting entry to any country that requires one at a gateway,” Erren explained.
“Good, what will I be posing as?”
“Itinerant merchant. In these countries, you’ll have a pack of spices, jewellery and other specialised goods in high demand.”
“Bribes?”
“You’ll have a bag of coins and gemstones to use. I’ll advise of any issues and amounts. If necessary, all you’ll have to do is ask.”
“I guess if I get into real trouble, I can just kill myself and restart?” Darras asked with a wry grimace.
“Yes, but please don’t unless you have no choice,” Erren warned. “It takes time to restore the dead, unlike repairing the living.”
“I understand,” Darras nodded. “Do you have a first target?”
“You are keen,” Erren laughed.
“Yes, my goddess, I am,” he chuckled.
***
Darras sat in the lounge as Erren fussed around with snacks and a flagon of the best-tasting beer he’d ever dreamed of having. It was cold, not just cool, nor a low potency military issue used to remove taint from water, but as cold as an upper mountain stream fresh off a glacier. Flavourful, too, despite the cold, an incredible treat for a man with no real sense of the finer things in life… other than his Erriane.
“I’m going to keep it easy for your first time,” Erren announced once she’d dropped off a tray of flatbread covered in cheese and spices in front of them.
“Suits me,” he nodded, taking another sip.
“Your target is a bar wench in a tavern of the Forest Kingdom,” Erren began. “Whilst seemingly an unusual place to find a shadow, it seems she has a penchant for rich merchants and Royal couriers, not ordinary folk.”
“Seduce and read their messages, or does she simply kill them off by marking them for bandits?” he asked.
“Clever you,” she smiled and clapped her hands in joy.
“Not every mark, I take it?”
“No, just a select few. Particularly the couriers, who will get to their destinations late and find their news compromised by recent events,” Erren replied.
“Interesting,” he nodded. “No pattern to it?”
“No discernible one,” Erren admitted. “Some she ignores, the ones she interferes with seem non-vital, etc.”
“Might be simply malicious?” Darras queried thoughtfully.
“Indeed it might. However, she’s your target.”
“Complications?”
“Disposing of a shadow in public is probably a big no, no,” Erren advised with a slight giggle.
“Yes, I imagine me ripping someone’s shadow out in public might not go down too well,” he chuckled.
“No, it won’t,” Erren nodded. “These are simple countryfolk, and the tavern wench, Connie, is well known to them.”
“So, I wait till she’s alone?”
“Yes. You can always deal with it if she decides to bed you,” Erren stated with a smile.
“What?”
“You know, roger her silly after destroying her possessor.”
“Erren!”
“I won’t mind.”
“I would!”
“Why? You’re human, male and have needs. Connie’s not bad looking and would be… obliging.”
“Erren, please! I’m married!”
“Not in this world, and Erriane knows you’re dead on yours.”
“I just… can’t. Not at the moment. OK?”
“Yes, Darras, sorry. Much too soon for you. I was insensitive in thinking you were free from your world,” Erren replied contritely.
“One day, I may be, but not at the moment,” Darras replied, accepting the apology. “Besides, I live with you, who does look like Erriane.”
“I can change that.”
“Please don’t; for the moment, it’s just… nice.”
“Very well, Darras,” she chuckled. “Now, any further questions?”
“Why’s it called the Forest Kingdom? Beyond the obvious, that is?”
“Two-thirds of it is forest, but an Elven nation is living in it and is protecting the trees from human exploitation... aided by the forest folk.”
“I assume they allow some logging, for thinning or coppicing, that is?”
“Yes, the Kingdom supplies cut wood and other forestry products to the surrounding kingdoms. The human part of the Kingdom mostly grows food and mines copper and iron.”
“No Dwarves?”
“No, Dwarves and Elves seriously do not get on, though they will occasionally unite to take down a mutual threat.”
“So, you might get kingdoms like the Forest Kingdom with humans and Elves and others with humans and Dwarves?”
“Yes. Humanity mostly gets on with both species, though there are purely Human, Elven and Dwarven kingdoms who do not, it appears, get on with anyone,” Erren chuckled.
“Constant war between Realms?”
“No, but occasionally bitter rivalries can explode over minor issues. Plus, some realms like the Orcen ones are naturally combative anyway.”
“And I’ll have to go into all?”
“That’s why I chose you. As a Human, you can get around in all kingdoms… well, the civilised ones anyway.”
“Orcs, civilised?” Darras asked as the old tales from his world had them as massed hordes – burning, looting and pillaging any they came across.
“Think the horse lords of your Trannish plains,” Erren replied.
“Ah, yes,” Darras nodded. “Rules of mutual respect if you visit.”
“Yes, though they can occasionally be contrary in nature.”
“Very similar then. A deadly foe if aroused.”
“Yes, that they mostly fight between each other is probably a good thing for the kingdoms surrounding the great plains,” Erren chuckled.
“We had similar problems till we developed gunpowder weapons. Horse archers in numbers are no joke to knights or footmen.”
“The Orcs use slings, but yes, no joke at all.”
“So, where is this village, and how do I get there from where you’ll drop me off?” Darras asked.
“The nearest safe gateway is the Capital; from there, it’s a two-day walk to the village,” Erren replied.
“Bandits?”
“Unlikely. Too close to the Capital.”
“No issues with setting up a camp?”
“I’d advise an inn. The local lord might decide you’re a poacher or thief if you camp on his land without his permission.”
“Strict,” Darras muttered.
“Greedy is more like,” Erren giggled. “An inn pays a head tax.”
“How much should I pay?”
“Maximum five coppers for a room, two if the inn’s full and you need to sleep in the common room, one if it’s the stable.”
“Take it vagrancy is a crime?”
“Only if you aren’t registered in the temple in the village.”
“Right, and no swords?”
“Nope.”
“Quarterstaff?”
“Hmm, yes, particularly as you’re a travelling merchant.”
“Just need to learn how to use one,” Darras chuckled.
“There, I can help,” Erren replied with a slight smirk.
***
As Erren led him out onto the lawn, her form changed to that of a muscular male. Two quarterstaffs also rose from the ground, and she collected them as she passed and tossed one to Darras.
“I’ve given you the knowledge of its use. This is to allow you to put the knowledge into practice,” she stated, disconcerting Darras slightly as all her form had changed, but her voice hadn’t.
“OK,” Darras nodded. “Go through the basic forms first?”
“Yes. Get used to the weight and feel.”
For all he’d never used a staff before, the knowledge was now there, and he moved swiftly through a series of moves, getting a feel for the iron-bossed quarterstaff. He then faced off against the warrior form of Erren. He swiftly found himself on the defensive as she demonstrated the difference between knowing the moves and facing an actual opponent. Still, it did not take long before Erren pronounced him competent before changing to her ‘normal’ form and ordering him off to shower as he had been tested hard, though she seemed as cool as ever.
“Might I assume this is not your real form… or merely a part of it?” Darras asked diffidently.
“Yes, this is just a remote-controlled shell directed by the whole of me,” she replied with a smile, not at all put out by the question.
“Do you feel emotions and such in it?”
“Normally, yes,” she nodded. “I can switch such functions off, though, if I need or want to.”
“I did wonder, as you weren’t even breathing hard after the pounding you gave me,” Darras chuckled.
“Yes, the ‘greater me’ made sure of that,” she smiled as she placed sandwiches on the table between them and another stein of beer for Darras.
“So, what advantages will I have over there?’ he asked. “Oh, weaknesses too, naturally.”
“The main advantage will be you’re a little bit stronger than most Humans you’ll meet, and faster reaction times too,” Erren replied thoughtfully. “You will be poison resistant, see in the dark quite well, have good hearing and be able to recover rapidly.”
“So, not overpowered,” Darras chuckled.
“No, just a little better than most humans,” she smiled. “Dwarves, Orcs and Lizardmen will be stronger, Elves quicker and with faster reaction times.”
“So, five main Kingdoms?”
“Yes, though there are a few realms with Trolls, Ogres, Goblins, Sprites, etc.”
“Some open, some closed, others just dangerous, I take it?”
“Yes, often very dangerous.”
“And all with shadows?”
“Yes.”
“Wonder what he’s up to? Your brother, that is,” Darras mused thoughtfully. “Hope it’s not just sowing chaos for fun.”
“He’s not into chaos. His direct subjects are the night creatures, Vampires, Banshees and the like. He’s worshipped as the god of nightfall and the ending of things.”
“And I assume you’re the goddess of daylight and birth?”
“Yes,” Erren nodded. “My brothers and sisters take secondary roles, such as metal-working, rivers and streams, the sea, etc.”
“Sounds complex, though I doubt I’ll meet many.”
“Probably not, though some will be curious about you.”
“But not hostile?”
“Probably not, though I’ll warn you of any offence you might give.”
“Thanks. Guess I’d better prepare myself then,” Darras nodded.
“Good idea. Your kit is waiting for you upstairs.”
Chapter 3)
Darras experienced the world shifting as he stepped through the gateway, and Erren’s special world faded behind him. Instead, he found himself in a domed chamber lined, presumably, with wood panelling. He also saw how difficult it would be to get an army moving through it one at a time.
“Your business?” a liveried official demanded.
“Darras Blaine, merchant, travelling to the county of Luxmann,” he stated, handing over an invitation from the local Baron to display his wares.
The item was a forgery, he thought. Erren had handed it to him after he had dressed and picked up his heavy pack. Still, he trusted Erren, who had also briefed him on what to expect and say.
“Do not attempt a bribe at the gateway,” she advised. “The officials there will obfuscate and delay, but they are honest and will have you arrested if you try to circumvent the system they have in place.”
So, he waited patiently as they checked his pack and examined the letter, comparing the seal to one on a chart of some kind to see if it was genuine, which, knowing Erren, it probably was. Or at least as real as the genuine seal used to invite merchants.
“Weapons?” one of them asked in suspicion-laden tones.
“Just a knife and a tool for sharpening my quill for contracts,” Darras replied.
“You are literate?” he asked, looking slightly surprised.
“I am. It saves me from being cheated by unscrupulous officials representing my noble customers.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “What of your stave?”
“It’s a walking staff, no more, no less,” Darras replied, offering his staff for examination and keeping patient as there was no way to hurry this.
“Hmm, very well,” the official nodded and affixed a seal to Darras’s document. “Do not lose it; it represents your return warrant.”
“I won’t. Thank you,” Darras replied and moved to repack his gear, which had been left on a table, fitting each thin wooden velvet-draped display unit into its rightful slot. He then sat, pushed his arms through the carry straps and heaved himself to his feet before heading in the direction indicated to an exit, just as another traveller arrived.
The town outside was interesting enough, though built almost entirely of timber, unlike the gateway tower, which was cut stone. Everywhere he looked, there were vendors hawking goods or other services. Following the advice of Erren, he ignored them and headed east towards the gate there and a long walk to the village of Trecor, where he would spend the night.
His military training came back immediately as his arms and legs seemingly moved of their own volition into the marching pattern of the Ostar Republic, and he rapidly left the market area… if that’s what it was, behind as he headed outwards towards the countryside. So far, nothing had surprised him, and those people he saw had viewed him as either a potential customer or someone to ignore. He spotted other merchants, similarly dressed to himself and realised Erren had chosen well as he blended in. Only when leaving the town through the eastern gate did he realise just what a strange place he was actually in as he spotted his first Elf.
The figure certainly had the outward appearance of a human. However, he also had pointy ears and eyes that seemed to blaze with an inner vitality. It was also evident that he had spotted Darras’s scrutiny, though he appeared indifferent to it, or so it seemed.
“It is rude to stare, human. Did not your parents teach you this?” the Elf finally spoke, giving Darras his full attention with a baleful glare.
“They did indeed, though this is my first sight of one of the fair folk, so I hope you will forgive me my impudence,” Darras apologised.
“Ah, I see. Where do you hail from?”
“From Trennet in the Ralketh Kingdom (a Human-only realm, though not hostile to other races).”
“Then welcome to Dorlianath, the Forest Kingdom, home of the Iversi Faire.”
“Thank you. I am headed to the court of Baron Luxmann via the villages of Trecor and Silvak. Any issues in my path?”
“None, though; beware of straying from the road near the villages. The gamekeepers of the Baron are somewhat ruthless towards supposed poachers.”
“I thank you for this, good Elf.”
“Tis Firios, and you’re welcome.”
“Darras here. May the goddess Erren bless you.”
“You worship Erren, the Lady of Light?”
“Aye. She guides my path,” Darras replied, foregoing to mention that he didn’t precisely worship Erren but did respect her greatly.
“Then may she continue to guide your path. Good day to you, Darras.”
“Good day to you, too, Firios,” he nodded and headed on his way.
The Elf observed Darras for far further than Darras would have believed before trilling out a low whistle. Within seconds, he was joined by three elves, all of whom waited patiently for him to speak.
“You heard him?” Firios asked.
“Yes,” Annos, a young female, replied. “He lied about his roots and intentions, though I sensed no evil upon him.”
“So he follows the goddess?” Traskis, a young male, queried.
“Of that, there was no lie,” she affirmed.
“A Human male who follows the goddess, strange,” Firios mused.
“Follows yes, worships…? Of that, I am not so sure,” Annos replied.
“Interesting. Alert the Iversi watchers to protect his passage and observe his doings,” Firios finally decided.
“You believe him to be her agent?” Traskis asked.
“I do not as yet know, yet there is darkness in Silvak, and how he deals with it remains to be seen.”
“A Human to deal with Human problems,” Annos chuckled. “The goddess has a sense of humour.”
“If that is what he is here for, and if he is successful, then we shall assist him if required.”
“Bold words,” Traskis stated with a slight frown.
“We follow the goddess too.”
“That we do,” Tinara, who had so far remained silent, agreed, her red hair bobbing slightly as she nodded.
“Then it is settled. Send out the kirach messenger birds to our watchers.”
No other words were said. The three others seemingly faded into the background as they headed back to the wood’s edge to write down the request and send the kirach off to do Firios’ bidding. Firios remained upon his rock and observed the world in all its complexity, waiting for the next traveller of interest to pass.
***
Darras made good progress, as the road was in reasonable condition. He did feel he was being watched, though that was all it was, simply a feeling, nor was it hostile. He did pass a few people, all Human, many merchants like himself, some having hired horses, others heading back towards the town, their business done. Occasionally, a messenger would pass conveying information to the various Barons of the Kingdom, and so he reached the village of Trecor just as evening approached.
The inn was easy to find, located on the main thoroughfare and advertised by a signboard showing a dancing… chicken, though Darras wasn’t too sure. Inside, it was warm and reasonably clean, and the smell of cooking meat made his stomach growl in anticipation.
“Welcome stranger to the Strutting Cock o’ the Walk,” the barman greeted him, clearing up the mystery of the sign a little.
“Greetings to you. Do you have a room for the night?” Darras asked.
“Aye, several, clean and cheap.”
“A room then and then something to eat,” Darras requested.
“That’ll be four coppers for the room; beer is a copper a flagon, and the meat stew with bread a further two.”
Darras handed over a ten copper coin and asked for the beer to keep coming till it was spent, getting a nod from the barkeeper, who seemed to be used to this sort of behaviour.
“Pelna, show…?”
“It’s Darras,” Darras filled in the blank.
“Show Darras to his room and then prepare a bowl of stew for him,” the barkeeper requested of a young girl.
“Follow me, sir,” she eagerly requested.
“Lead on, Pelna,” Darras chuckled at her evident enthusiasm.
Pelna led him through a door to the side, pointing out what she called the ‘jakes’, which was some toilet. She led him up a sturdy set of steps and stopped before one of several doors on an upper landing, which she opened.
“You can stow your pack safely here,” she informed him. “Food will be waiting for you downstairs, along with your beer.”
The room was small, mainly comprising a bed, a washbasin on a small cupboard and little other than an oil lamp.
“There are demon strikes in the drawer for the lamp, if you need it,” she informed him helpfully… sort of, as he guessed the demon strikes to be matches.
“Thank you, Pelna,” Darras replied and handed over a copper as a tip.
“Ooh, thank you,” she beamed and hurried down, no doubt to prepare his meal.
“So far, so good,” he murmured as he closed his eyes in prayer.
‘Yes, it is,’ Erren’s voice came clearly to his mind. ‘The Elves here are somewhat taken with you.’
“I only saw the one, Firios, but did suspect others.”
‘They worship me as Wenderos, though they know my other names, including Erren.’
“So they will not interfere?”
‘No, and may help if they feel you need it.’
“Hopefully, I won’t, but that’s nice to know.”
‘You were nice to Pelna,’ Erren noted.
“I liked her enthusiasm.”
‘Hersey keeps a good inn. Please give it my blessing when you go downstairs,’ Erren requested.
“I will,” Darras nodded as her presence left him for the moment.
Downstairs, a few other customers had shown up and went silent as he entered, and they observed him.
“Erren, goddess of light, bless this inn,” he spoke clearly before sitting at a table in the corner where he could not be flanked, an old habit of his.
Pelna first brought out a flagon of ale and followed it up with a bowl of meat stew with a large cob of hard bread and a lump of cheese.
“Thank you, Pelna. This looks and smells good,” Darras informed her with a warm smile as she did so.
“Mama’s stew is famous in the district,” she informed him with a beaming smile.
“Then I can’t wait to try it,” he chuckled as he tore a chunk off the cob and dipped it into the stew.
Pelna was right; the stew was delicious, thin strips of meat and chunky vegetables in a thick broth absorbed by the bread chunks he used to scoop up the meat and vegetables. The beer was good, if not as good or cold as Erren’s. So Darras relaxed in comfort, warmed by the fire, and watched the other patrons.
“Where be ye from then, Merchant?” one of the older men asked as he warmed himself next to the fire.
“Kingdom of Ralketh,” Darras replied.
“And you think to ply your trade in the Forest Kingdom?”
“Somewhat. I was asked to travel to Baron Luxmann's court as he requested by an agent in the capital.”
“Selling what?”
“Fine jewellery, spices and grooming aids, all township of Trennet specialities,” he replied.
“Seems the Baron is doing well for himself,” the old fellow mused before returning to a table with his cronies.
At this point, the door to the tavern crashed open, and a party of men arrogantly swaggered inside, putting Darras on guard as he watched their actions carefully.
The man he knew was called Hersey from Erren’s conversation, greeted them respectfully, showed them to a table, and brought tankards and a large jug of beer. As Hersey appeared unconcerned, Darras relaxed somewhat and signalled Pelna for another beer and to take away his empty bowl. This she did with enthusiasm but also kept away from the men who, though somewhat raucous, were at least not involving others. This changed, however, when the group leader turned his focus onto Darras.
“You there, state your business!” he demanded loudly, scowling as Darras ignored him to sup his drink.
“Best answer him, Darras. He has the ear of the baron,” Hersey spoke up.
“Very well, Hersey,” he nodded respectfully.
“Well?” the leader demanded.
“I am a merchant with an invitation to the court of Baron Luxmann to display my wares and open a trade route,” Darras answered.
“I think he’s a spy,” one of the men opined.
“Aye, he looks like one,” the leader guffawed.
Darras said nothing, though he felt the presence of Erren observing through him.
“Well, are you a spy?” the leader sneered.
“No,” Darras stated while leaning on his staff. He had stood to face his interrogator.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Your problem, not mine.”
“I could have you held and interrogated.”
“You could try, though I doubt you’ll like what the Baron Silvus might say about that.”
“Are you threatening me, spy?” he sneered.
“No, just warning you. If I were threatening you, my reply would have differed.”
“Tarkal, I’ve warned you before about threatening my customers,” Hersey spoke, drawing a stout cudgel from under the bar counter.
“Baron Silvus tasked me to seek out spies from Luxmann,” the leader, whose name Darras now knew was Tarkal, answered, though far more politely than he had to Darras.
“Tarkal, you will stand down!” came a sharp female command from the doorway.
It was obviously someone in power, as the man turned white, and his companions suddenly looked both innocent and as if wishing they were elsewhere.
“But Priestess Kina…” the leader began but trailed off as the now furious petite woman in the doorway glared at him.
“You have often been warned not to throw your non-existent authority around this village! You are Baron Silvus’ bailiff in charge of his gamekeepers. You have no authority here, and I will report you to the Baron for this display, as you’ve tried my patience once too often!”
“Bitch! You may be the Priestess of the Lady, but you go too far in your threats,” he snarled, clearly angered beyond reason by her words and fearful.
‘Defend my Priestess, Darras,’ Erren’s words came to him as Tarkal drew a blade and leapt out of his chair towards the Priestess, only to have his wrist holding the knife slammed down by the iron boss of Darras’s staff as his companions attempted to restrain him.
There was a stunned silence other than the immediate shriek of pain from Tarkal, which ended when the Priestess hit him with some spell which put him to sleep and then seemingly healed his wrist.
“Take him to the Baron and report his actions. Inform the Baron to expect a visit and that an explanation will be required,” Kina ordered one of the subordinates.
“Y… yes, Priestess,” the man gobbled out as he and his companions grabbed the unconscious Tarkal and hauled him out of the tavern.
“And you might be, good sir?” Kina asked Darras.
“I am Darras, a merchant and servant of Erren, Lady of Light,” he replied.
“I see. I must apologise for the actions of the men of Baron Silvus in the village.”
“You do not need to apologise. You were not at fault,” Darras replied with a slightly amused smile.
“Thank you for coming, Priestess Kina,” Hersey added. “They know they are not welcome, but still they come.”
“After the assault on Pelna, I could do no other,” Kina replied with a nod of acknowledgement. “Though I was already heading here after I caught wind of a blessing placed here.”
“They assaulted Pelna?” Darras asked with a frown, understanding now why the girl had been reluctant to approach these men.
“Aye, they did. This is the first time they have been allowed back,” Hersey replied.
“I assume this Baron did not enforce his laws?” Darras asked.
“I was remiss in not taking this issue to the Baron directly,” Kina admitted. “This incident, however, I will.”
“Will you sit with me, dear lady? You obviously have questions.”
“I do. I sense the goddess within you,” Kina replied, following Darras to his table in the corner.
“Hersey, a drink of what the Priestess desires, if you please,” Darras requested. “And another beer for me,” he added, handing over a silver coin.
“Of course, good Darras,” he acknowledged.
“Plus, keep whatever is left over for you and yours.”
“By your command,” Hersey nodded graciously.
“Generous to a fault, Darras,” Kina chuckled. “This is not how merchants act.”
“I suspect you know that I am not a merchant,” Darras replied quietly with a smile.
“Yes, though, if possible, could I speak to my goddess?”
“Speak, good and faithful Kina.” Erren’s voice came from Darras’s mouth, filled with undertones of compassion and joy.
“Thank you, my goddess. May I ask just who this Darras is?”
“He is my agent in this world, tasked to deal with the darkness you and others reported.”
“How may I help?”
“Deal with the stupidity of Silvus to ensure Darras may return to the gateway.”
“I will, my goddess.”
“Good and faithful Kina, your soul in my sight is still worthy, so quell your fears and simply do what the words of my book tell you to do. All things happen for a reason, and your pathway remains clear.”
“I thank you, my goddess. I felt such guilt in not taking him to task over Pelna,” Kina almost sobbed.
“It was necessary to permit Tarkal and his thugs to be here for them to launch an assault upon you. Now, the Baron will be forced to deal with the situation rather than attempt to brush it away as with an annoying fly.”
“Ah, yes. Assaulting a Priestess of the Lady is serious indeed.”
“It is, and he will act.”
“Thank you, my goddess.”
“She’s gone now,” Darras said as Pelna came up and placed a goblet of fine wine before Kina, along with a bowl of nuts, berries and cheese cubes.
“Thank you for allowing that, Darras,” Kina replied. “Normally, such conversations happen only in dreams and visions.”
“It’s alright. I don’t fully understand her, but I respect her wishes.”
“You do not worship her?”
“She doesn’t want that from me. My task from her is somewhat… different to yours.”
“Yes, to deal with the darkness.”
“For that, she doesn’t need faith and belief, simply a skill set none in this world has.”
“You can see the darkness?”
“Apparently, though I’ve yet to see one, I will in Silvak… apparently.”
“Ah, no wonder the Lady favours you,” Kina nodded.
“She has been good to me, though I do not pretend to understand her,” Darras replied.
“You have met her?”
“Her likeness in her… residence, yes.”
“You are truly blessed amongst men.”
“She mostly appears to me as a young woman, though I have seen her in other forms, so I know I haven’t seen her true self,” he replied.
“I doubt any, save her brethren, will have seen her true form,” Kina nodded, then sipped her wine as Darras supped some beer.
“We never spoke about it, but I believe you to be right.”
“I guess you may meet others of the gods?” she queried.
“Seems likely, particularly the Lord of Darkness, as I’ll interfere in his business… I hope.”
“I hope you do. He has his place, and all respect him, but the darkness is not balanced and needs to be dealt with,” Kina agreed as Pelna came up and asked her to sing for the tavern.
“You have some nerve, Pelna,” Kina laughed, clearly not offended, as Hersey produced what appeared to be a lute.
Though the song was unknown to Darras, it was merry with easy enough lyrics. Kina soon had the entire tavern singing along with the chorus, essentially praising the goddess for her patience in dealing with an idiot of a man.
She finished to tumultuous applause as Hersey began other songs. The entire tavern sang along, including Kina and Darras, as they sat in peaceful companionship until she had to take her leave, and he went to his room and bed.
Chapter 4)
Darras slept well, though the bed was not as comfortable as the one in Erren’s home; still, the exertions of his walk meant that sleep came quickly. He awoke as full daylight came, swiftly donned his outer garments, and shucked his pack onto his shoulders before descending to use the ‘jakes’ and then to the well to draw water and wash his hands and face. He then walked through to the bar, intending to bid farewell and give a final blessing upon it.
“Greetings, good sir, are you Darras?” a middle-aged woman greeted him.
“I am indeed,” he replied. “May I know your name?”
“Yilda, Hersey’s wife.”
“Ah, the fine cook,” Darras nodded.
“Travelling on to Silvak?”
“I am, and then on to Thurstock and hopefully then to the court of the Baron.”
“Here, bread and cheese with dried meat to aid you on your way,” she informed him, handing over a small package.
“Thank you kindly, good lady.”
“I wish you a good journey.”
“Thank you. May the Lady of Light bless this inn and your family,” Darras replied with a slight bow before heading out the door.
Shrugging his shoulders to adjust the pack, Darras set off out of the village, going the other way from which he’d arrived, noting the small Temple fully bathed in the morning light as it sat upon a small hill.
Yet again, he felt watched, though as before, not with hostility or malice, seeing no one, nor, if it were Elves, did he expect to. Once more, the routine of his past set in, and his stride ate up the ground as he followed the road towards Silvak and his first encounter with a shadow… he hoped. He did stop where the road crossed a stream and rapidly built a fire to boil some water to purify it even as he drank from the well water he’d collected earlier.
“Idyllic,” Darras murmured to himself, not expecting an answer.
‘You never saw much rest in your last life, did you, Darras?’ Erren surprised him with a reply.
“No, Erren. There was some in my youth, and what time I spent with Erriane was peaceful, if occasionally tense, as we really did not know each other well,” he answered thoughtfully.
‘This world may reach that stage too, though magic will also have an effect.’
“Were there gods and goddesses on my original world?”
‘Yes, though because you weren’t attuned to magic, you couldn’t, other than with a few priests and prophets with visions, follow their instructions all too well.’
“I hope it goes well for them,” Darras mused.
‘It will. Our plans are not easily thwarted,’ Erren replied, and Darras could almost feel her smile. ‘Your water’s boiled enough; you’ve killed off the harmful… stuff,’ she added.
“Thanks,” he nodded and moved it off the fire only to find he had company. “Greetings,” was all Darras could think to say to the Elf who had appeared from nowhere.
“Greetings, Merchant Darras. I am Tinara, a companion of Firios.”
“How may I assist you?” Darras asked, also indicating that she could share his repast.
“You were speaking to Wenderos?”
“I was, though I know her as Erren.”
“Know as in met?”
“Yes, as in met.”
“You intend to deal with the darkness in Silvak?”
“I do. It possesses the bar wench, Connie,” Darras replied, feeling that he could at least trust the Elves, though Erren seemed far more guarded.
“Ah… we do not enter towns if we can avoid it.”
“It would not avail you much if you could. What possesses her is not vulnerable to ordinary weapons nor assailable should you even kill her,” Darras explained from the memory of a talk he’d had with Erren.
“I see. Nor would our priests be immediately available, even if we trapped her,” Tinara nodded sagely.
“These shadows are parasites; trap Connie, and it would leave her to possess another.”
“I will inform my people.”
“Thank you,” Darras nodded as she broke off a hunk of cheese.
“I will ensure your journey between the human villages is tranquil and wish you well in your mission.”
“Again, thank you. The support of one of the fair folk is much appreciated.”
“We would appreciate you coming to Iversirion, our capital, after your mission, if the goddess permits?”
“She does,” Darras replied after receiving an OK from Erren.
“You will be collected from Silvak after your mission. Iversirion has a gateway so that we can expedite your journey.”
“I look forward to it,” Darras thanked her as she rose and moved swiftly out of sight.
‘I wasn’t expecting this. How interesting,’ Erren informed him.
“I take it the Elves remain mostly neutral or detached?” he queried.
‘Very much so. They have a lifespan of over eight hundred years and tend to see other races and their activities as ephemeral.’
“Guess from their perspective we would be,” Darras chuckled. “Well, it will be good to know we have their support,” he nodded. “I wonder just who it is that wants to see us?”
‘I have my suspicions, though only time will tell.’
As there was little else to discuss, he poured the purified water into his carrier and left the site as he’d found it, apart from the ashes of the fire. Darras then re-joined the road and continued his journey to Silvak.
Silvak was much bigger than Trecor, though not a town as yet. Darras knew it was the primary seat of Baron Silvus, though his fort was set well away from the village itself. Darras doubted he’d have any issues with him or his retainers. Kina’s visit would likely have the Baron a lot more worried than a merchant passing through, no matter how he’d been involved.
The village itself, though looking prosperous enough, had an atmosphere of tension about it, as if all was not as it appeared, and Darras figured this was what the Elves had picked up on. There were few enough people to be seen, and they seemed to be keeping their distance from each other. And there was little in the way of conversations, not even in the small marketplace he passed through.
Darras soon spotted the inn, marked with a sign picturing a bear, though the building was slightly run down as if the owners cared not for appearances and attracting people. Then again, it was the only inn in the village and a recognised resting place on the main road to the East. Perhaps the owner saw little need for anything elaborate, though Darras suspected the presence of the shadow was more likely.
‘Do not say a blessing,’ Erren warned.
“Of course, my Lady,” Darras replied as he set foot in the inn’s rather dingy interior, which reminded him of some of the more notorious taverns in Tira, the now-destroyed capital of Ostar.
“Welcome, stranger,” the young woman serving at the tables greeted him. “How may the Brown Bear assist you?”
“I seek room and board,” Darras replied, seeing nothing amiss about her. “My name’s Darras, a merchant from the Kingdom of Ralketh.”
“Rooms are five coppers, meals two, and the beer’s a half copper, though most prefer the local mead at one copper.”
“A room, a meal and a mead then,” Darras requested politely, dropping eight coppers in her palm.
“Sit yourself. I’ll fetch your meal and let you know when the room is prepared,” she replied.
“Thank you,” he nodded and headed over to a corner from where he could observe.
Darras had to admit the mead was a fine drink and well worth a copper, though the meal itself wasn’t a patch on the one he’d received in Trecor; not that it was terrible, just not as tasty or filling. Still, it enabled him to scan the inn's interior and look for anomalies, picking out several unsavoury types, though no one of any real danger to himself. Darras still felt it as an almost crawling of his skin when his target did enter from a side doorway. Connie herself was a comely young lady, if slightly overweight, though this if anything, added to her charm. What revealed her to him, though, was a translucent outer skin that flowed around her like a dark mist.
‘So that’s a shadow,’ Darras thought, hearing nothing from Erren and assuming she was keeping her distance so as not to alert Connie.
“Connie, can you tidy up room seven,” the barmaid requested.
“Sure, Benna.”
“Got a customer for it, so as quick as.”
“On my way.”
Darras figured both women would assume he was out of hearing range as most normal humans would be, but he still was cautious as Connie’s voice had a very harsh overtone to his ears, though judging by the others, this was not something they could hear.
“A merchant, eh?” one of the men he’d categorised as a troublemaker commented.
“Aye, hoping to make my fortune by tempting the court of Baron Luxmann,” Darras replied.
“Well, good luck to you. The Baron is said to dote upon his young wife.”
“So I’d heard. Just hope I’m the first in there,” Darras chuckled, noting the avarice in the man’s eyes.
“What trinkets be you carrying?”
“Fine combs and other grooming aids. Nothing that special, but rare enough in the Baronies here,” Darras replied, foregoing to mention the jewellery he carried.
“Well, good luck to you and remember to buy us a drink here should you be successful,” the rogue encouraged.
“Aye, I’ll need good fellows to raise a tankard with if fortune smiles on me,” Darras nodded, now satisfied that their greed would stay their hand until his expected return.