——— 4 ———

⁠—⁠—⁠— IV ⁠—⁠—⁠—

The five fugitives traveled quickly, spurred on by an anxiety that might have been abject fear if they had known how closely they were being pursued. The riders from Alvon Keep were just then crossing the Kes on their floating bridge. But not even Istavan could have guessed that the archduke’s daughter, the Lady Amnelis herself, was leading them. Such a bold move was beyond all expectation.

Nor did the companions have the benefit of horses as their pursuers did, though in this rugged landscape the lack of steeds was not a tremendous handicap, especially as they had the advantage of a local guide in the little Sem girl, Suni. Even in the depth of night she was able to steer them clear from most dangers.

But the wildlands of Nospherus were no paradise even for the Sem who made it their home, and Suni was frequently compelled to stop to get her bearings in the darkness. The way she did this was quite fascinating to the twins. The little Sem would step off to the side of the path and fish around through the night air until she had snagged a few strands of the faintly luminescent angel hair that floated around them. Then she would hold it so that it trailed upon the wind. The angel hair would rapidly dissolve in the heat of her grasp, but Suni seemed to be able to discern what she needed to know in those few short moments.

Try as they might, the twins could not see how the wispy, phantom-like strands indicated anything. Though they hurt their eyes staring into that strange, bluish-white glow, the primitive life-forms would always melt away before they could figure out just what it was that Suni was looking at.

“I could understand it if these things ate,” said Istavan, brushing off a tuft of angel hair that had blown against his cheek, “but all they do is just float around. It’s creepy, I say. Aye, this whole place is damned, from the dirty Sem to the dullard Lagon. If the land-dwelling bigmouths don’t get you, the sandworms will… or maybe it’ll be the flesh-eating nurls that look just like rocks until they lash out with teeth the size of longswords and rip you in two. The blood moss will soak up what’s left of you.” Istavan pawed away another clump of the glowing strands that had started to wrap around his leg. “Or maybe the angel hair will just bore you to death.”

The mercenary gave an exaggerated yawn and looked around to see if anyone was listening to him. Undaunted by an apparent lack of audience, he continued. “This place sure is a nest of monstrosities. The kitara players have it right, this land’s been hell on earth since its very creation. You know what they say? When Janos and Doal gambled for ownership of the world, and Janos won, he forgot to include Nospherus in his list of place names, and so Doal took it! That’s why this is Doal’s only domain in this world. But what a domain! I feel like I might go stark raving mad.” He looked around at the others. “Then again, all my companions are either mad or monsters themselves, so maybe they’d start liking me better… Gack!”

Istavan coughed up a clump of angel hair that had managed to slip into his mouth while he was talking. “Blasted throat worms! Any more of this and a man won’t even be able to whistle a little marching song to keep his feet moving. Ach, and when the sun comes up it’ll turn this land into the bottom of a frying pan. By the six sides of the die that Janos and Doal rolled to play for, the fate of the world, this place might just see the end of the Crimson Mercenary.”

“Don’t talk so much, you’ll get thirsty,” warned Guin in a low rumble.

Istavan licked his lips. “If there’s anything worse than walking through this Doal-damned gloom, it’s walking through it in silence. How do you expect to keep our spirits up with nothing but this blasted night to keep us company? It’s depressing!”

“Keep chatting and we won’t hear anything approach us. Better depressed than dead.”

That seemed to give Istavan pause, and he fell silent for a while. But soon he was grumbling again, wanting Suni to find him some plant or animal to eat to stop the rumbling in his stomach. “I can wait until the sun comes up, I can wait until then, but not much longer or I’ll collapse on the spot. I’d even eat some stinking Sem grubs if you asked me to. Come on, leopard-head, talk to this girl in that lovely chirping language and ask her if there’s anything to eat around here. Do you mind?”

Guin growled and spoke to Suni, who listened and seemed to be thinking hard about the matter.

“Didn’t you eat a whole vasya fruit a while back without giving us so much as a bite?” Rinda pointed out.

The mercenary furrowed his brow. “That stringy fruit’s no more a meal than a pile of Doal’s droppings. Ah, I’ve gone and said another bad word before the holy princess of Parros! Shame on me!” Istavan turned and spat into the darkness with practiced force.

“Imeeru!” Suddenly, Suni broke off her conversation with Guin and ran back to Istavan, jumping up to slap him on the chest, a scornful expression on her small face.

“What? What is it, you crazy monkey?” Istavan made to pick up the little girl and throw her bodily away from him, when he shrieked. “H-Help! The dark has got me!”

“Hiiii!” Suni jumped away, as did the twins.

It was indeed as if the darkness itself was attacking. Like some lacquer-black soup, the gloom to the side of the path had boiled into the light and was now attaching itself to Istavan’s right leg.

Istavan shouted and grabbed his leg. Before he could draw his sword, the thing had engulfed him up to the knee. Now he hesitated, not relishing the thought of accidentally chopping off his own leg. The same risk stayed Guin’s hand as well.

“Argh! It’s coming farther up!” Istavan dropped to the ground and tried to scrape off the black gel that had now reached his waist. “Help me! Do something! How can you just stand there?”

Rinda reached out a hand to help, but Guin swiftly pushed her aside.

“Don’t touch it⁠—it’s a yidoh, very dangerous.”

“But he’ s going to die!”

“Stand back!”

Guin sprang into action, sweeping down to grab the mercenary by his afflicted right leg and hoisting it up into the air.

“Cover your face, this is going to be hot.” Guin swung the torch in his other hand down toward the shapeless monster.

“Agh, Guin, you’ll roast me alive!”

Heedless, Guin thrust the torch into the seething black mass.

Rinda screamed. Flames shot up around Istavan’s right leg until he was a giant human torch. The strange jell-like creature burned and sputtered in the flame.

“Ahh, stop! It’s too hot, too hot!” Istavan wailed like a child. “Water! Somebody put me out!”

“Guin! We don’t have water! He’ll die!” Remus held up an empty waterskin in panic.

Without a pause, Guin pushed Istavan to the ground and thrust the mercenary’s burning leg into the sand at the side of the path, and threw himself down on top of it.

“No! Guin!”

There was a rancid smell of burning flesh, and Rinda, feeling faint, sat down with her hands over her face. Guin’s leopard head rolled back and he gave a low growl.

“Good,” he said at last, and stood.

Istavan still lay in the sand, dazed. From his waist to his right foot, he was covered with the carcass, grimy and burned, of the yidoh. Yet his long leather boot seemed unharmed, and nowhere was there a sign of a wound or blood.

“Guin! Are you okay?” cried Rinda, running to him.

The warrior raised a hand and brushed away charred yidoh remains from his chest.

Rinda looked at his broad chest and exclaimed with horror, “Guin! You’re burned! Why did you have to put out the fire like that?”

“It’s nothing. I was wounded far worse in Randoch, and many⁠—” he stopped in mid-utterance.

“Guin, what did you say? You’ve remembered something! Randoch? Is that where you’re from?” Rinda asked, agitated for his sake.

The leopard-man, forgetting all about the burn, was lost in intense thought for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s no good.”

“Remus? Did they ever teach you anything about a place called Randoch?”

“Well, there’s Rangart, in the Duchy of Kaulos, and the free port city of Rygorl…” Remus said dubiously, recalling half-remembered geography lessons.

“What about you, Istavan?” Rinda turned to the mercenary, who still lay in the dirt. “You’ve been places, right?”

“Please, girl, have some pity for Doal’s sake!” Istavan lurched to his feet with a look of outrage on his face. “I’m dying over here, and all you care about is leopard-head’s washed-out memories?”

“Guin just saved you, didn’t he? And it was your fault in the first place that you got attacked!”

“How was I supposed to know it was out there? What, could you see it? By the slimy scales of Doal’s tail, I hope I never chance upon another one of those things. When it grabbed me I lost all feeling in my leg, I did. It was so cold… I thought I’d had it.”

Suni chattered and Guin translated, a smile in his voice. “She says you brought it upon yourself. The yidoh are vicious when provoked, but they’re not as aggressive as some other denizens of the wildlands, the bigmouths and the sandworms being just two. It only attacked because you spit on it. It must have thought you were food.”

Istavan muttered a curse under his breath.

“You were lucky I got fire on it so quickly,” added Guin. “You can’t cut a yidoh off with swords or knives. Unless you burn it off, it will stay attached to its unconscious prey and slowly digest it.”

“How do you know that?” Rinda asked in a whisper. “Not that much about you surprises me anymore.”

“I just knew it. Something in my head said, Fire⁠—fire is the only way”

Rinda shook her head and lightly brushed the dirt off Guin’s wounded chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Guin nodded. “Are we all here?”

“Suni?” Rinda turned around to see the little Sem girl walking out of the darkness, which was slowly lifting now with the approach of dawn. Her hands were full of something.

“She says she found some moss nearby to use as a poultice; it can take the heat off the burn. Thank you, Suni.” Guin nodded to the little girl, and bound some of the cool moss to his chest with a strip of cloth.

“About this Randoch,” came the voice of the Crimson Mercenary from behind, just as Guin was getting ready to continue walking.

Everyone turned around. Istavan was looking off to the side of the trail, as if determined not to meet their eyes. “I’m sure I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”

“Where? Is it a country? A town? Or maybe⁠—” pressed the princess.

“That’s what I’m trying to remember! Don’t you ever shut up?” Istavan snapped at her. Then he slapped his knee. “That’s it! Did I ever tell you I was on the crew of a Valachian trading ship in the Lentsea until I was fifteen?”

“A pirate ship, more likely.”

Istavan smiled, letting the comment slide, which convinced Rinda all the more that she was right.

“Well, we encountered a mysterious ship on one of our voyages. It had a strange shape, long and sleek. It was swifter than any ship I’d seen before. It was all white and elegant. We thought for sure it had to be the ship of some king or noble. But when we were maneuvering to board it, it took off and disappeared, just like that, over the horizon.” Istavan, realizing his admission, stuck out his tongue and grinned sheepishly. “Well, when we were making our first approach, I saw some writing on the white ship’s bow: Randoch, it said.”

“The name of the boat?” offered Remus.

“Maybe⁠—and maybe not. That’s just what I saw. And one other thing. There was a statue adorning the bow, the bust of a woman, and mighty pretty at that, with wings like a harpy. How about it, Guin? That other word you remember sounded like a woman’s name.”

“Aurra?”

Istavan nodded silently. For a brief time everyone was lost in thought, but not the kind that yields answers.

“Maybe Guin was king of this Randoch,” said Rinda, “and rebels put the curse of the leopard mask on him.”

“You sure have an active imagination, girl,” Istavan snorted. “Maybe you used to stay up all night worrying about rebels when you still had your kingdom?”

Istavan seemed not to care that Remus was glaring death at him. “It’s strange. I’d completely forgotten about that spooky boat for a good five years, and one word from leopard-head brought it all back.”

As he talked, they began walking again, each falling in line behind Guin, paying little heed to the approach of daylight. The eastern sky grew pale with warm light, the first sign of the blistering shadeless heat of day that was soon to come to the barren wildlands.

They stopped to rest, just for an hour. Tired and hungry, they tried chewing on some grassy-smelling moss that Suni found, but it only made their saliva flow and their stomachs rumble. They took turns napping; Istavan only had to look at Guin’s wounds once to offer to take first watch. So it was that while the others slept, the mercenary sat on the lookout for any signs of unwanted guests, occasionally throwing dried moss onto the campfire.

He didn’t even know what he’d do if another one of those sticky black jelly things showed up. Now that had been a shock! If leopard-head hadn’t come up with that little bit of wildlands lore when he did, I’d have cut off my own leg. Some “Spellsword” I’d be! What a warrior this Guin is⁠—he’d give Ruah a good fight, no mistake. By Mos’ white goat beard, I’m glad he’s on my side! Those twins, on the other hand…

Mumbling and grumbling, the young mercenary reached into the wide cuff of his boot, where he had kept a last vasya fruit hidden, and began eating it, cursing under his breath as he chewed.

The sun crept steadily higher into the sky. Suddenly, Istavan jumped to his feet. “What’s that? I sense⁠—danger!” He spit the remainder of the vasya onto the ground. The hair on the back of his neck was rising and that could only mean one thing: enemies were nearby. “But that can’t be… Wait…”

On the top of a nearby rocky crag, something sparkled in the morning sun. It was the white armor and golden hair of Amnelis, perched atop the hill to survey the area. She had just spotted their campfire.

Istavan’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to wake the others, then stopped. Slowly he licked his lips as he made up his mind. Grinning, he gathered up his belongings around him and strapped on his sword belt. He looked over at the leopard-headed warrior, fast asleep, probably weak from his burn. The twins lay sprawled by the campfire, lightly snoring.

Istavan licked his lips again, and, keeping an eye on the others, he slowly crawled toward the cover of the rocks⁠—when a small hand grabbed his jerkin!

“Ick!” Istavan had to stop himself from yelling out loud. “Phew, it’s only the monkey girl. Be quiet, what are you so angry about? They’re coming! Yeah, I know, I have a plan! No, I’m not running away. Damn meddlesome monkey!”

Istavan snatched up the girl and held his hand over her mouth. He began to run. Eastward.

Meanwhile, in the west, back toward the Kes River, dust began to rise from the wasteland plain. The dust cloud came closer, the knights gradually becoming visible in its midst. First they seemed no larger than grains of sand, then they were pebbles, then rocks, until at last four hundred and fifty red knights and sixty white could be seen clearly through the cloud of dust.

Guin woke with a start. Seeing the riders bearing down on them, crossbows clenched in their gauntleted fists, he roared.

“What is it?” The twins stirred sleepily, rubbing their eyes.

For a second, Guin considered picking them up and running, but they were already in firing range, and there were at least five hundred of the mounted men. The leopard-man growled, a low rumble in his throat, and stood still.

“The mercenary’s gone! And Suni, too!” he said.

“He betrayed us!” cried Remus.

Guin drew the twins to his side and stood fast in the dust and sand that now came swirling around them.

Five hundred crossbows and swords surrounded them on three sides. A sharp voice called for them to drop their weapons, and Guin complied.

They were captives of Gohra again.