Tales of the Apprentice 01 Ch. 06

Tales of the Apprentice - Book 1

Chapter 6

"We must be careful," Serana told Raven the following morning. "We have several more days to travel, and during the daylight hours we should be fairly safe. At night, though, we must make sure to have a fire and a few torches burning at all times. I wish we could take some of these lamps with us, but they're larger than what we can conveniently carry, and we didn't bring a pack horse."

Raven gave her a long, speculative look.

"Is there anything I should know about, my lady?" he inquired politely.

"Let's just say that the creatures you heard about are real. Light will keep them at bay, though."

"You are sure of this? If I may ask, how can you be?"

"That is my business," Serana said coolly. "But rest assured it's true."

Raven shrugged.

"Very well, my lady. I will go and find us some torches. And perhaps a saddle for your horse, if I happen to come across one."

Serana smiled.

"That would be nice. But don't spend too much time looking for one. I'm fine without it."

Raven nodded and left. Galen continued to gather their belongings and pack them into the bundles they had been carrying on the backs of their horses. He was feeling tired. He had slept rather fitfully, and visions of the dead-looking creatures had haunted his dreams until morning. His eyes felt gritty.

"Are you sure we'll be safe?" he asked. "I mean, after what we saw last night..."

"As safe as we can be," Serana said. "Traveling through these parts is always somewhat risky even at the best of times, and this is certainly not the best of times. But Raven seems to be quite capable, and between the three of us we should be able to take whatever measures might be necessary."

A few minutes later Raven returned, carrying a bundle of long, straight faggots.

"These should do," he said. "I also found a jar of pitch and a bundle of rope. We can distribute them among us, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem to add them to the packs we already have. Oh, and I've found you a saddle, my lady."

"Not one of these silly side-saddle things intended for a demure lady, I hope?" Serana asked with a smile.

Raven shook his head as he put the faggots down next to the door.

"Just a regular saddle, my lady," he said. "I hope that's alright."

Serana nodded.

"That will do very nicely, Raven. I was never much of a lady anyway."

"You are to me, my lady," the mercenary said, nodding respectfully.

Galen gave him a speculative look. He couldn't have explained it if his life had depended on it, but suddenly he was convinced that there was considerably more to this muscular man than met the eye, something that went far beyond the bravo-for-hire he appeared to be. Whatever it might be, though, the future would have to reveal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Serana's expression change. Clearly she had picked up on his sudden realization. Then she deliberately looked away. Galen took her hint. Whatever it was, this was obviously not the moment to discuss it.

It wasn't much later when they rode out of the village, but not before Serana had left a few coins on the table in the dining room in case the owner of the inn would ever return. Galen agreed wholeheartedly. Somehow, on a deeply instinctive level, it was clear to him that taking advantage of anyone would be a bad thing to do for him. He had come to realize, albeit without being able to explain how, that there was something inherently pure about sex magic, something that depended on doing the right thing whenever possible, something that had to do with the eternal dichotomy between good and evil, between light and dark, between life and death. He couldn't have put it into so many words, but he felt he did understand at least the principle of it. He also realized that what he was doing right now was slowly changing him: he was growing, maturing, perhaps even becoming a better person. Serana caught his eye, smiled at him and slowly nodded. Suddenly Galen felt a lot less sure of himself. Had she known what he was thinking?

The sun was shining brightly as they continued south. The sky was blue, the air was clear, and there was no sign of the dreadful creatures that had stood gazing at the village last night, hungering and slavering. Yet Galen felt his skin crawl when they passed the place where he had seen them. Fortunately, not a single trace of them remained.

The land was flat and the riding easy, and the horses made short work of the few leagues between the outskirts of the village and the edge of the forest. Then, as they got closer to the edge of the wood, the head of a narrow trail became visible between the trees. A logging trail? Or simply the only road through the forest? Galen couldn't decide. The trees were standing close together, and the gloom between them deepened as he gazed further into the forest. As they reached the edge of it, Raven reined in his horse and loosened his huge sword in its scabbard as he eyed the dark mass of wood.

"We must be on our guard here," he announced. "These woods are home to all manners of robbers and cutthroats."

Slowly and carefully they rode down the trail, single file. It wasn't much of a road, and it wound its way around trees of varying thickness. But there were some signs of regular maintenance here and there, usually in the form of stumps or hacked-off branches where obstructions had been cleared away. The narrow path stretched before them as far as the eye could see, which wasn't all that far in the gloom beneath the trees.

"Does this path actually lead somewhere?" Galen asked skeptically.

Raven nodded.

"It goes all the way to the other side of the woods," he said. "It is mostly used by woodcutters, though. Not many others venture here."

"Why not?"

Raven looked to his left and pointed at a heap of what looked like a small heap of green, moss-covered branches.

"That's why not," he said.

Galen looked, and suddenly he could make out the vacant-eyed shape of a skull within the mossy pile. Then he saw that the branches weren't branches at all. Instead he was looking at a pile of bones.

"In a place like this it is easy to waylay an unwary traveler," he explained.

"It's a good thing we're wary, then," Galen said dryly.

Raven's smile was bleak.

"Indeed we are. Fear not, lad. I've been this way before."

They slowly made their way along the trail. One hour, two hours, three, four... Time seemed to stand still in this perpetual gloom. The light hardly changed as the day wore on. Nothing moved. There was no breeze to stir the still air. A faint haze blurred the shapes of the trees in the distance, and the atmosphere, while not really cold, was clammy and oppressive. No birds sang in the trees, there were no insects, and nothing seemed to burrow between the many tangled roots.

"This is like no other forest I've ever seen," Galen remarked.

Serana sighed.

"It wasn't always like this," she said softly. "But it's changed."

"Oh? So what changed it?"

"I can't be entirely sure yet," she said. "But I've got a pretty good idea. And I think you do, too."

"You mean..."

She nodded.

"There are too many different things going on at the same time right now for all of that to be a coincidence. I can't be certain, of course. Not yet. But chances are that it's all related somehow."

Suddenly Raven ducked sideways in his saddle as an arrow flew out of the gloom and shot past his shoulder to bury itself in a nearby tree. In one swift, flowing move the mercenary was off his horse, and he seemed to be running even before his feet touched the ground. Drawing his sword as he went, he ran in the direction the arrow had come from. Between the trees the silhouette of a man was just visible as he reached over his shoulder to draw another arrow from his quiver. Before he could nock it, though, Raven closed the distance between them, and his great sword rose and fell. There were shouts from several different voices in the distance. The man bent double and fell to the ground. Raven turned and deliberately stalked off into the haze and the gloom, heading into the directions from which the voices had come.

There was silence for a few moments, then the sound of more voices could be heard, followed by the ringing of steel on steel. The shouts became cries of pain; then they began to die down one by one. A minute or two later Raven emerged from the gloom, holding his sword and breathing heavily. He was bleeding from a small cut in his left arm, and his sword showed signs of recent use.

"Are you alright?" Galen asked.

Ravel nodded bleakly.

"It's nothing."

He took a piece of cloth from the bundle strapped in front of his saddle and tore it in half. With one part he bandaged the cut on his arm, using his teeth to tie the knot. When he was done he used the other bit of cloth to clean his sword. Then he looked up. His smile was grim.

"They were untrained," he explained. "Just half a dozen ruffians who thought to surprise some travelers. They weren't expecting any resistance. And my style confuses them."

"Your style?" Galen asked.

"The way I handle my sword. It's a very old technique. Few swordsmen today are familiar with it. Shall we move on?"

Raven remounted his horse and led them on down the narrow path. Galen looked thoughtfully at the mercenary riding ahead of them. His earlier feeling that there was much, much more to this enigmatic man than was immediately apparent was quickly growing stronger. When they passed the place where the cries had come from, Galen could just make out three or four bodies lying on the ground between the trees. One of them was moving feebly, the others were still.

The encounter wasn't the only one that day. The light had already begun to fade when, suddenly, three men were standing on the trail ahead of them, brandishing rusty swords. They looked unkempt, with long hair, long beards and soiled clothing. Without hesitating even for a fraction of a second, Raven spurred his horse on to a gallop and rode one of the men down, then wheeled his heavy mount to attack the ones still standing. His sword, drawn as he rode, moved swiftly and surely. The robbers, on the other hand, were less skilled and mainly resorted to a lot of shouting while waving their swords in the air and hacking wildly. The outcome was fairly predictable.

"It appears you have earned your pay today," Serana remarked with approval as they rode on. "But first we need to find a place to spend the night. If memory serves, there should be a small clearing off to the side, not too far ahead."

Raven gave her a surprised look.

"You have been here before?" he asked.

Serana nodded.

"Yes. It's been a quite while, though. But the clearing should still be there. Things may have changed around here, but not that much."

"I believe I know it," Raven said, glancing up at the faltering light with a strangely sad look in his eyes. "It's the only one around, as far as I know, so we don't have all that much of a choice. It's not perfect, but it will serve. We can make it there just before dark if we press on."

The gloom continued to deepen, until finally the trail descended into a small valley. Raven led them off to the side of the path where the trees were less dense. The ground continued to slope down and the light gradually improved somewhat as the forest grew thinner. Eventually it gave way to a small open area bordered by a few stunted brushes and a handful of runty saplings. The undergrowth was sparse and looked unhealthy. Galen looked at it and didn't like it. He said so.

"It's not ideal," Serana admitted. "But it will do."

"I don't know..." Galen said slowly. "There's something about this place. It feels... Wrong."

He looked at the wilted vegetation and the few sprigs of unhealthy-looking grass that dotted the otherwise bare soil. His misgivings deepened when he saw the expression on Raven's face.

"Why doesn't anything want to grow here?" he finally asked.

"It doesn't matter," Raven said curtly. "Whatever happened here, it's safe now. At least it's safer than the rest of the forest."

But the look in his eyes was intensely sad as he looked at the lifeless appearance of the grasses.

"Safer than the rest of the forest? That's not saying much,"Galen muttered. "Exactly how safe is that?"

Raven smiled bleakly.

"As safe as we make it, lad. It will be dark soon. We'll need firewood, as much as we can get."

Galen nodded reluctantly and dismounted. He handed the reins to Raven, who saw to the horses while Galen gathered wood. Fortunately the forest floor was strewn with dead branches and he didn't have to stray far from the clearing, something for which he was profoundly grateful. There was something foreboding about this wood, and as the gloom deepened he would have sworn he could see indistinct shapes moving between the darkening trees. There were sounds as well: a rustle here, a snapping twig there, and none of that could have been caused by the wind, because the air was completely still. There was also the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. Something was watching him. He could feel it.

By the time the light had almost faded he had collected quite a pile of firewood, more than enough to keep a good blaze going throughout the night. As soon as they had a small fire going, Raven took the jar of pitch he'd brought from the village and put it beside the fire to warm it. Then he unpacked the bundle of rope and faggots from his pack and began to wind lengths of rope around the thickest end of each faggot. They were long and straight, and the wood was hard and dense. Soon the pitch was warm enough, and he saturated the wound lengths of rope with it. When he was done he had some excellent torches.

"These should burn for at least a few hours each," he remarked as he inspected his handiwork. "They'll last even longer if we put them out in time to add more pitch."

While Galen built up the fire, Raven ignited four of his torches and distributed them along the edge of the clearing. The light from the fire and the torches dispelled the gathering darkness across the entire area. Serana nodded approvingly.

"Very nice, gentlemen. Very nice indeed. This should be enough to keep us safe."

"As long as we don't let any of them go out," Raven cautioned.

"I'm sure that between the three of us we can manage that."

"Yes," Raven said. "However, I think double watches might be a good idea. Only one of us sleeps at a time."

Serana nodded.

"A good idea. Let's have some dinner, and then you and I can take the first watch."

"I can do that," Galen protested.

"You seem rather tired, lad," Raven said. "Better get some sleep first."

Serana nodded.

"He's right. You look dead on your feet, Galen."

Galen shivered. The way she put it reminded him uncomfortably of the creatures they'd seen last night.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said.

"I know," he muttered. "It's just this place, I suppose. It's getting on my nerves."

After they had eaten, Serana solemnly handed Raven his pay, including the extra half silver the mercenary had earned with today's fights. Then Galen sought his bedroll. He fell asleep almost instantly, but once again his dreams were troubled. Still he felt somewhat rested when he woke up a few hours later. Serana and Raven were sitting by the fire, deep in conversation. He could not make out any of their words, but Serana nodded and reached out to touch the burly man's hand in reassurance. As the mercenary moved, something on his face glistened in the light of the fire, and Galen would have sworn it was a tear.

Not wanting to intrude, he deliberately turned, sat up and coughed. When he left his bedroll and approached the fire, Raven seemed to have regained his composure. He looked up at Galen.

"Your turn to rest, my lady," the mercenary said. "Sleep well."

Serana smiled and nodded.

"Thank you," she said.

Raven lit two fresh torches and handed them to Galen. Taking two more himself, he stood up.

"Time to replace them, lad," he said. "The old ones are starting to burn low."

Walking along the edge of the edge of the clearing, they stuck the new torches into the ground and doused the ones already there by pushing the burning ends into the sand. Back at the fire, Raven thumped them against a fallen log to shake off most of the sand, then dipped them into the jar of pitch to give them a fresh coating.

"The wood and rope are still fine," he remarked. "These will serve us well. Those villagers knew their torch-wood, at least. I still wonder what happened to them."

"Well..." Galen said slowly. "We may be better off not knowing."

Raven gave him a long look.

"What did you see, lad?" he asked softly. "I know you saw something last night. What was it?"

Galen gazed silently at the edge of the clearing. How to answer that question without saying more than he knew to be safe? But then the question suddenly became academic. Between the trees, well beyond the light but still just visible, he could make out a shape, and it was a hauntingly familiar one. The slumped shoulders, the way the head tilted... He looked around, his eyes straining against the darkness beyond the flickering light, and slowly another shape appeared between the trees. Then another one, and another.

"That," he said simply.

Raven followed his gaze and grunted.

"Ah. I had a feeling there was something lurking there. We might be in for some trouble, then," he whispered.

"We won't, as long as we have the fire and the torches," Galen said quietly. "They're terribly afraid of light."

"How do you know?"

Galen shrugged.

"Trust me," he said.

Raven gave him a long, hard look. Then he slowly pulled his huge sword out of it sheath.

"Best to be prepared, though," he said. "And if you wouldn't mind my professional advice, it might be best if you and I just let the lady sleep and continued our watch here. If you're up to that, of course."

Galen smiled.

"Is it my pride or my vanity you're trying to appeal to?"

Raven chuckled.

"Either one will do. Is it working?"

"Not really. Still, I'm all for it. But what about you? I've had some sleep, at least, but you've had none at all."

"I'll be fine, lad. I've had many nights without sleep. I don't sleep all that much to begin with."

The mercenary's face was grim, and there was a haunted look in his eyes.

"Bad dreams?" Galen asked with a sudden insight. "Or bad memories?"

Raven grunted noncommittally, gazing into the gloom beyond the firelight at the faint outlines of the creatures held at bay by the flickering torches. Finally he shrugged, then nodded slowly.

"Both. And this place is not helping much," he said softly.

He looked around the clearing, with its stunted and wilting growth, and he shivered.

"You know what happened here, don't you?" Galen asked. "You know why it looks and feels the way it does."

Raven was quiet for a few long moments while the haunted look on his face deepened.

"It was a very long time ago," he said finally. "It used to be worse. Far worse. Nothing would grow here for many years. It's only begun to recover now."

Galen looked at him thoughtfully, his mind racing. Then, with a flash of clarity he couldn't explain, everything suddenly fell into place.

"You're talking about black magic," he said softly. "Death magic."

Raven looked up, his eyes boring into Galen's.

"What do you know of these matters?" he snapped.

"Enough to stay away from it," Galen said. "It's dangerous. Very dangerous."

"It's worse than that, lad. It's pure evil. It destroys a man. It destroys his soul."

Galen slowly nodded. He stared into the fire, his mind reeling with the implications of what Raven had just said. The mercenary was obviously speaking from experience, not just from hearsay. Evil... A very long time ago, yet it haunted him still. Had he been there? It sure looked that way. Yet he didn't show the signs of age... And that could mean only one thing.