DDDDD ZZZZZZ // D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE || D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 18 -=========================================================+|) D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 5 DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE || \\ \ ======================================================================== DargonZine Distributed: 9/24/05 Volume 18, Number 5 Circulation: 661 ======================================================================== Contents Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb Journey's End 1 Rena Deutsch Yuli 1-27, 1018 Idol Hands 1 Jon Evans 29 Yuli, 1018 ======================================================================== DargonZine is the publication vehicle of The Dargon Project, Inc., a collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet. We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project. Please address all correspondence to or visit us on the World Wide Web at http://www.dargonzine.org/, or our FTP site at ftp://users.primushost.com/members/d/a/dargon/. Issues and public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon. DargonZine 18-5, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright September, 2005 by The Dargon Project, Inc. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb , Assistant Editor: Liam Donahue . DargonZine is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs- NonCommercial License. This license allows you to make and distribute unaltered copies of DargonZine, complete with the original attributions of authorship, so long as it is not used for commercial purposes. Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden. To view a detailed copy of this license, please visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/1.0 or send a letter to Creative Commons, 559 Nathan Abbott Way, Stanford CA, 94305 USA. ======================================================================== Editorial by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb In my previous editorial, I said that this issue "should appear in your mailbox near the end of June". Well, before the end of June arrived, I took a new job, I became primary caregiver during a family member's long-term hospitalization, my ceiling was destroyed by a week-long water leak, I fell so far behind in the last class of my graphic design program that I had to take an incomplete, I threw my back out, and -- as you might have guessed by now -- I stopped putting any time into DargonZine. Unfortunately, putting DargonZine out is still very much a one-person operation. Our contributors kept plugging away at their writing, so there are plenty of stories to print, but there's really no one who can put issues out when I'm not around. It's a problem we've known about for years, but never successfully addressed. However, we're hopeful that will change very soon, as a result of Liam Donahue becoming our new assistant editor. Once he has gotten familiar with the process of putting out issues, we should be able to avoid lengthy gaps between issues like the one you just experienced. But now, three months after this issue was supposed to go out, I've finally pulled my life back together again and can get back to the job I love: bringing you some of the best fantasy fiction you'll find anywhere. And this issue is a great place to start. We began our long-awaited Black Idol story arc at the beginning of this year in DargonZine 18-1, and have printed the first of three sections of that storyline in the four issues that have come out since January. In this issue we begin the second section of the Black Idol arc, which follows the bard Simona, the wizard Anarr, and a down on his luck peasant named Edmond as they travel together. Our earlier stories showed how Anarr temporarily neutralized the curse on a statue of the god named Gow. He and Edmond are now carting it off to Dargon, while Simona and her companion Kal are looking to Anarr to rid her of an old family curse. Thus begins the second section of the Black Idol, which we hope you will enjoy. We've had a number of new readers sign up in recent months, and I'd like to thank all of you for your interest in DargonZine. If you haven't read the first third of the arc, I'd encourage you to go back and check out the stories that have appeared so far. This is a great time to join us, because we've just begun a lengthy, cohesive storyline, and I think you'll get a lot more out of the coming issues if you've read the handful of earlier stories, which began appearing in DargonZine 18-1. One final thing to note is that during this brief hiatus, we also held our annual DargonZine Writers' Summit. This year's event was hosted by veteran author Victor Cardoso, and took place in scenic Traverse City, Michigan. No, really, it *is* scenic! I won't relate all the details here, but we had a wonderfully productive yet relaxing time. If you're interested in seeing the pictures and hearing about what we did, point your browser at , or check out descriptions of all of our previous writers' gatherings at . Let me close by saying it's great to have you with us, whether you're a longstanding subscriber or someone who just signed up. We've got another 18 stories left in the Black Idol arc, and with a planned nine-chapter epic from Nick Wansbutter following on its heels, we'll be bringing you issues one after another for quite some time to come. So clear out some room in your inbox, because we're back again! ======================================================================== Journey's End Part 1 by Rena Deutsch Yuli 1 - Yuli 27, 1018 Summer had arrived in full force with swarming mosquitoes, ripening fruit on the trees, and days hotter than Simona liked. She had gotten up early in the morning, helped her mother with the meal preparations and then excused herself for the rest of the day to spend it to her liking. Kalanu and Nai, her traveling companions for the past two years, had offered to accompany her, but she had turned them down. Simona took her bag of scrolls and set out for the forest, where she knew she could find a place cool enough for her to escape the heat as well as secluded so she wouldn't be disturbed. She needed solitude to go over the scrolls containing her family history and she knew her mother wouldn't approve. "Simona! Wait up!" She turned to see Kalanu running toward her and sighed inwardly. "What now?" she muttered, irritated, and then thought, "Didn't I just tell him I want to be alone?" "Let me go with you," Kalanu said. "You really shouldn't go by yourself." "And be distracted by you?" Simona laughed. "No, Kal, I need some time alone." "Simona," Kal spoke softly and took her hand. Their eyes met. The gentle touch of Kal's lips against her hand made Simona shudder. She pulled her hand away. "Go, and don't follow me!" Simona ran towards the forest and didn't stop until the trees hid her from view. "Turdation," she cursed out loud and then muttered to herself. "Why does he affect me so? He's my friend, nothing else!" She sat on a fallen trunk to refocus. For several menes the thought of Kal stayed with her. She let her thoughts wander and imagined what it would be like to have him always close by, without their friend Nai. "This isn't helping at all! I have to focus if I want to get anything done!" Angry with herself for letting her thoughts wander, Simona closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and listened to the twittering of nearby birds. She concentrated on the chirping and thought about the birds searching for food for their young. "The mother bird -- my mother," Simona thought and a deep sense of joy and belonging flooded over her. She took in a full breath, stood up, and continued on her path, remembering her early childhood with her twin sister Megan and the day her uncle Ezra had forcefully taken her from her mother and Megan. Simona remembered what her uncle had told her about the family curse that affected the women of the family. If a woman gave birth to a girl, the baby's father would die on the day the child was born and the woman would die a forceful death later. Her uncle had shown her scrolls that documented the family curse. She recalled the time she had spent with her grandparents, disguised as a boy so they would think her father had sired a son and broken the family curse. Simona remembered her travels across Baranur with her uncle who had given her a flute and taught her to play it. He had also instructed her in reading and writing. She also called to mind the years she had spent at the College of Bards. All this time she had been separated from her mother and sister. She had wanted nothing more than to be reunited with them. After years of studying, she had left the College of Bards to find her sister, and ended up with two traveling companions: Nai, a former smith, and Kal, a sailor who had decided that the countryside had more to offer than the sea. From then on, the three had been almost inseparable. They had made slow progress in locating anyone who knew of Megan, but when they had reached Dargon and checked in at Spirit's Haven, the owner of the inn, May, had been able to help them. Two years after leaving the College of Bards, Simona had finally known where to look for her sister. When the companions reached her sister's location, they found disaster. An old man and a boy lay dead, a cat stood over the dead man's body as if it were crying, a slain wolf lay next to the boy, and nearby they had found a dying couple: Megan and her husband Raphael. Simona had held her sister in her arms, calling her name, and Megan had responded. With her last breath, Megan had revealed that their mother, Anna, was still alive and well in Hawksbridge. After Simona, Kal, and Nai had sent the spirits of the dead on their way with a traditional cremation, the three had left and traveled to Hawksbridge, a journey complicated by the snowstorms of winter. During this journey, Kal had been more attentive to her needs than usual, seeking to spend time with her alone. If Nai had noticed, he didn't speak of it. When the three finally arrived in Hawksbridge, Simona had no trouble locating her mother. Reunited, she had stayed with her mother, Anna, bridging the time they had spent apart by telling each other what had happened. One day, when Kal and Nai had been outside, chopping firewood, Simona had discussed the family curse with her mother and had found out that Anna had given birth to another daughter, and on the same day had lost her second husband. The little girl had since died and Anna had never remarried. Simona remembered vividly how upset her mother had become when she told her she wanted to see the curse ended. "It's all just a coincidence," Anna had said, brushing her daughter's concerns aside. "Five generations, mother, and six dead husbands, and you still think it's all a coincidence?" Simona had countered. "What about me? What if I want a husband and children? Do I then have to raise my daughter alone or grieve for stillborns like you had to? Hasn't our family suffered enough?" "It's not a curse," Anna had insisted. "I'm still alive, yet my mother died early and so did hers and the others before her." "And for that I am grateful, but it doesn't mean it is over. If it were, then my sisters and your husband would still be alive!" "You don't know that!" Anna had yelled. "Mother, uncle Ezra showed me scrolls, which track this curse. I --" "Leave it alone, Simona. Nothing good will come of it!" Simona had decided then not to mention that she was in possession of said scrolls and that all previous attempts to break the curse had failed. She wasn't going to tell her mother that she believed the scrolls and wanted to see this curse broken and the suffering ended. Simona reached the clearing in the forest near the creek she had been seeking. The water bubbled gently over the rocks. Several lizards sat on stones, baking in the sun. None scurried away when Simona settled herself into the soft moss. "I found my mother!" For several menes, Simona dwelled on the thought of being reunited with her mother. She let out a sigh, pulled several scrolls out of her bag, and read what Ezra's family had documented over the decades. She removed her quill and ink bottle and added her mother's story and what she knew of Megan's. After reading the scrolls a second time, she realized it would take a powerful mage to help her lift the curse again. "How many powerful wizards are there?" she asked herself and stared at the scroll in her hands. "Shanna would know," Simona thought. "Somehow she always knew the answer or where to look for it." A soft giggle escaped her as she thought of the girl she had shared a room with at the College of Bards. Simona searched her memory for incidences of magic and odd happenings. She had heard of places north and west of the Darst Range that had old magic, but those stories were only gypsy truth if she were to believe her teachers. In one such place rain was constantly falling; in another the person entering would age within menes and die. As she thought about the tales, Simona realized that those who had created such magic were surely long dead. "Where else can I look?" she muttered to herself and thought: "The tower in which Megan was trapped? No! I don't want to be trapped there accidentally. "Rubel has a mage who helps to protect the island, but I need a ship to get there. Would he help an outsider?" Simona stretched her arms and legs briefly and then wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her head on her knees. "I could go to Magnus. In the Fifth Quarter are surely magi willing to help for a price, but my chances of making it in and out alive and with my possessions are slim. And the magi who don't live in the Fifth Quarter have already had their laugh, dismissing my claim to be cursed as an old wives' tale. No, they won't do either. Maybe Dargon has a magus willing to help me?" Simona watched as a mouse tried to nibble on one of the scrolls that stuck out of her bag. She waved her hand and the rodent scurried away instantly. "Sorry little one," she said softly. "No luck ..." Simona stopped herself mid sentence and thought: "No luck, Northern Hope has no luck! That place is supposed to be cursed. Maybe there is a mage nearby, causing all the problems. The settlement isn't that old. Maybe I should begin there? Yes! It's a start. And from there to Dargon." Shouldering her bag, she walked back, her mind made up to search for a mage. How she would convince her mother to let her go without an argument was going to be a challenge. Even more challenging would be to leave alone. She hadn't told either Kal or Nai too much about the curse and worried about what they would say, but neither would take it lightly if she'd left without them. "Maybe I can convince one of them to stay behind?" she muttered to no one in particular. "I have to do this for myself, without distractions and lots of questions." On a cool morning four days later, Simona and Kal left Hawksbridge and set out for Northern Hope. Kal had donned his traveling clothes again and Simona was wearing her gown and harp-and-stars insignia belt that identified her as a bard. She had also applied her blue lip color again and braided her long black hair to prevent it from getting into her face. Simona felt a sense of purpose: she was searching for a mage to help her lift the curse. As they stepped outside the house, Anna and Nai, who remained behind, wished them well. Simona had already taken several steps away from the house, when she turned around and walked back to her mother to give her one last hug good-bye. "I will be back before winter," she promised, released her mother, and walked down the pathway into Hawksbridge, waving her hand. Simona had enjoyed traveling before, and now that she was on the road again, she realized how much she had missed it. She took in a deep breath and increased her pace. "How did you ever convince Nai to stay behind?" Kal asked as he and Simona walked briskly along the road that would take them to Northern Hope. "That was the easy part," Simona laughed. "Haven't you seen the way Nai looked at my mother in these past months? I just suggested he keep her company and talk about our travels. It was much harder to say good-bye to mother. I didn't really tell her why we were leaving. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. I don't think she'd approve, but it is important to me. I'm sure Nai will let her know eventually. Mother won't stop asking until then." "What did you tell your mother?" "That I had to go to Dargon and take care of unfinished business." "And she didn't inquire to the nature of the business?" "Not really. I think she was afraid to find out the truth." "But you told Nai, straight?" "I told him. How could I not? We've been traveling together for a long time now. You helped me find my sister, and stayed with me so I could find my mother. Without you two, I don't know if I would have had the courage to go on." "Then why did you leave Nai behind?" Simona didn't answer. "Simona?" "Kalanu?" "Why *did* you leave Nai behind?" Simona's thoughts raced. Kal deserved an answer, but she wasn't ready to give it. Several explanations shot through her mind: "I wanted someone to stay with mother? I wanted to travel with only one companion? I wanted mother to have someone to help her with the hard work and Nai likes her?" None of the answers sounded convincing to her so she remained silent. "We'll be back before winter if all goes well." Simona finally said. "That is, if you find a mage to assist you quickly enough. What if there isn't one there? What if no one in Northern Hope knows of a powerful mage? What if there is one, but the people don't want others to know? What --?" "Kal!" Simona interrupted and halted in her tracks, making Kal halt as well. "Stop it! We'll deal with that when it comes to it. I do not want to spend the next few sennights arguing with you whether or not a mage is in Northern Hope and whether or not he can do what I'll ask him to do." She gave him a stern look. "You don't have to come along ..." "As if I'd let you go by yourself," Kal interjected. "I had to promise Nai --" "Promise him what?" "Promise him I'll take care of you and keep you safe." "I can take care of myself," Simona retorted angrily, turning towards Kal. "I don't need to be treated like a child. Is that why you insisted on accompanying me?" "No!" Kal said and reached out for her, his expression somber. He spoke softly, "I wanted to be with you, Mona." The use of her childhood name gave Simona a sense of belonging and warmth. When Kal's hand touched her face she leaned into it and closed her eyes for a moment. Her anger vanished. She felt his tender kiss on her lips and responded hungrily, pulling him close. Time seemed to stop for Simona as a whole array of feelings swept through her. When they finally separated, they continued their walk in silence. Simona kept her eyes on the path before her, thoughts racing through her mind. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have responded to his kiss. It's going to ruin our friendship. I want him to kiss me again -- no, not again. This shouldn't be, can't be! It's been too long since anyone tried to even come close. Why did I give in?" She stomped one foot, kept her eyes down, and thereby missed the surprised look Kal gave her. "I need this curse removed before I let anyone come close. I care about him. But would he understand? I told him all about the curse just yesterday. He's seen Megan and heard mother's story, yet he seems not to believe it. I don't want to lose him. Why didn't I warn him off?" she asked herself and the answer came as no surprise. "Because I love him! And I don't want him to think I feel otherwise." Simona continued walking in silence, listening to the twittering of the birds and the sound her feet made on the dry dirt to take her mind off what had just happened. She was so focused that she only heard Kal's voice when he first spoke up, but not his words. "Pardon me?" she said apologetically. "Nightfall is near," Kal said. "We should make camp soon." Simona looked up and realized he was right. She began gathering firewood along the way. At the first sheltered place they reached they set camp. After consuming a small meal, they settled down next to each other for the night. Simona felt Kal's arm reach for her, as he had done so many times in the past, resting his hand on her stomach. It meant comfort to her and a sense of security, knowing he was close. Tonight though, his hand didn't stop at her stomach, instead it caressed her side ever so lightly and sent a tingling sensation through her body. "Stop! Don't!" her mind screamed, but her body didn't listen. Instead it responded to the caress, turned to face him, her hands returning the caress on his body. By the time his lips found hers, Simona's mind had given up any resistance and reservation she had harbored. The next morning both Simona and Kalanu were slow to rise, each reluctant to let go of the other. Eventually nature's call needed to be answered and forced them up. Simona took her own time to return to the campsite and only did so when she heard Kal call for her. She felt uneasy and guilty that she had relented to her body's desire and that she had given in so easily. "I can't take it back. Do I really want to?" she thought and answered herself. "No." "Kal," Simona began when she reached the campsite. "I --" Kal placed a finger on her lips. "Don't say it," he interrupted her. "Last night was wonderful. I love you with all my heart. I'm yours ... forever!" "I love you, too," she whispered and embraced him. Simona and Kal quickly disassembled their makeshift camp and after a small meal went on their way, smiling at each other, hands touching, interlacing. For the next few sennights, they spent their days walking, but only on a few occasions did Simona succumb to Kal's gentle demands. She urged Kal to push forward, hoping to find a mage in Northern Hope. Halfway through their journey, they stayed an extra day at a roadside inn. Simona spent her day of rest inside the barroom, sitting at a table, a tankard of ale in front of her, studying a map of northern Baranur. She was trying to plan ahead should Northern Hope have no mage in town. "Maybe Greenmont next," she muttered to herself, "and then across the Darst Range to Kenna. Stop at Fennell Keep and Shireton on the way to Dargon." "Or you could cross the Darst Range, go to Myridon and Tench, and then make your way to Magnus," Kal whispered in her ear and then kissed her neck. Simona had been so focused on her map, she hadn't heard him approach from behind. "It might be easier to get a ship to take us to Magnus from Dargon, spend the winter there and with the first signs of spring, we'll continue on. We're bound to find a wizard in Magnus; besides, it will be good to spend some time at the College of Bards." "Then why are we going to Northern Hope, if you know you can find someone to help you in Magnus?" "I'm not too keen on searching through the Fifth Quarter. The magi living outside the Fifth Quarter have been of no help. Besides, there is some kind of magic going on in Northern Hope that seems to make things go wrong. Someone must be doing this and I intend to find out who." The next day Kal and Simona set out for their final days of travel. Kal had purchased more food and filled his bag not only with bread and cheese, but also some dried meat and apples. He had also acquired a second skin and filled it with water. Both had shouldered their bags again and quickly picked up their usual walking pace. Two and a half days travel away from the inn, the road to Northern Hope became steep and less even. Loose stones littered the road and here and there a gopher had decided to dig his entrance in the middle of the path. Overgrown bushes on both sides of the road narrowed the way and weeds had sprouted where usually wagon wheels would roll. It seemed this road was even less traveled than the innkeeper had let on. "Are you sure this is the right way?" Kal asked after he'd climbed over a fallen tree and given Simona a hand across. "There is no other; I haven't seen any crossroads since we left the inn." "I'm not so sure about that. I mean, look at this road. It looks like no one has traveled here in months." "Just because no one bothered to remove the fallen tree, doesn't mean that this isn't the right way," Simona replied and continued on. "I need a break!" Kal stated and pulled his bag off his shoulder. It was then that the strap ripped, the contents of their food bag fell out, toppled downhill, and landed in the middle of a small creek. "Turdation!" Kal cursed. "Our food! I have to go down and get it; otherwise there won't be anything until we reach Northern Hope." Simona emptied her bag and gave it to Kal. "I'll repair it while you collect the food." Kal nodded and climbed down to the creek. Some of their provisions had floated downstream and he spent the better part of the afternoon retrieving it. When he finally returned to Simona the bag contained only half of what had fallen out. "The bread is all wet. What didn't wash down the creek, the birds have picked up. Half of the meat was taken by animals. I got most of the cheese and the apples." Kal sounded frustrated and tired. "We'll find some berries along the road. I've seen quite a few bushes with raspberries and blackberries." Simona tried to comfort Kal, but with limited success. They made camp next to the fallen tree and continued on their way the next morning. Even though Simona had seen berry bushes and thought she'd find berries along the way, she'd been wrong. All the bushes they found had been picked clean. What was left was either dried up, full of worms, or rotten. "I can't believe it," she muttered to herself. "Who out here picks all the berries? It doesn't make sense. A road that's barely traveled, yet not a single edible berry left." Kal began setting traps at night, but had to take them down empty in the morning. The bait was gone, and the traps triggered, yet no animal was caught in it. Kal's mood went from angry to furious when he realized that he had lost his flints. "We must be getting close to Northern Hope," Simona remarked after Kal told her about the flints. "What do you mean?" "I mean, whoever is controlling Northern Hope has us in his realm. It can't just be coincidence that the strap broke, we lost half of our food, all the berry bushes are empty, no animal finds its way into your traps, and then the flints go missing." "And now this!" Kal commented as they walked around a bend and stared at the road ahead of them. Where the road had been was now a large gap. It seemed a mudslide had taken part of the mountain downhill and ripped the road apart. Large boulders and fallen trees were easily visible below their location. Any vegetation above the road had been pulled out and sent downhill or been covered with dirt. "We'll have to climb down and then up again," Kal said after staring at the new obstacle for a few menes. "I don't think we can get around it by crawling along the side. It doesn't look stable enough." "I want to give it a try anyway," Simona said and approached the western side of the road where boulders and gravel had torn down trees and covered bushes. "See here," she called out, "if you use these branches to hold on, we can make it across. It will save us several bells of climbing. It is already late in the day. Nightfall is a mere bell or two at the most." Simona took her first step, reached for a branch to steady herself and carefully set her foot down on a boulder. She shifted her weight. The boulder stayed in place. She continued to slowly ease her way forward, testing each step before she set her foot down and released the other. Simona was almost across when the boulder she had thought to be safe broke loose and rolled down hill. She let out a scream as she slipped, slid down hill behind the boulder, and disappeared in a cloud of dust. The last thing she heard was Kal yelling her name. When Simona opened her eyes it was getting dark. She tried to sit up, but found that most of her body was covered with dirt, gravel, and broken branches. Slowly, she pulled her arms out and pushed the dirt away from her chest. It was harder than she thought and soon she was drenched in sweat, yet she had made little progress. "Kal? Kal where are you?" she shouted. "Looking for you! Keep talking so I can find you," Kal called. "I'm over here and I'm stuck." Simona kept calling until she heard his footsteps come closer. "Watch out! I'm buried up to my waist. Don't step on me!" "Are you hurt?" Kal asked as he sat next to her on the ground. "I've been looking for you for over a bell and you didn't answer." "My head hurts. I must have hit it on something. Other than that, I'm stuck!" "In half a bell we'll only have stars to light the sky," Kal remarked, "Not sure that Nochturon can be seen tonight, too many clouds where he should rise. Digging you out will take some time." "Then hurry! I'm getting cold and I'm hungry." Simona used both hands to move the dirt away from her body and Kal used a broken-off branch as a lever to move a boulder that sat directly over Simona's legs. She was finally free by the time the last of the daylight vanished. "Did you find my bags? I lost both when I fell and I'm not sure what happened to my water skin," Simona said after she had eaten an apple, which Kal had given her. "Your water skin is torn. It can't be repaired. I found it while I was looking for you. One of your bags is quite a bit further down. I was about to go there when I heard you calling. The other? I don't know. We'll have to look for it in the morning. Right now we should get away from here, before something else falls on you." "It's too dark," Simona said, afraid to move. "I won't be able to see where I'm setting my feet. I might slip again." "We only have to move a short distance to get off the debris. It's where I came down. There is also some water nearby." Kal said, stood up, and pulled Simona to a stand. "Can you walk?" Simona took a couple of careful steps. "Straight, lead the way," Simona said, holding on to Kal's hand. Within a few menes they reached the relative safety of the forest, settled next to each other underneath the hanging branches of a large tree, wrapped their blanket around themselves, and went to sleep. Simona woke the next morning to find that Kal was already up and gone. He had left his bags at her side. After finishing her morning ablutions, she went looking for Kal. It didn't take her long to find him. "Look what I found," Kal greeted her with a broad smile on his face. He held his hand up high and Simona could see something dripping from it. Her eyes went wide when she realized what he was holding. "Honey! You found honey!" "Here, this is for you." He gave her a piece of honeycomb the size of his hand. "Thank you!" Simona broke it in half and passed a piece of the dripping gold back. "We'll share!" "I located your bags, too," Kal remarked after he had finished his piece. "We'll get them when we cross the debris to get to the other side. Then we need to climb back up. There might be a path on the other side, I'm not quite sure though." "Then let's go. I filled the water skin already." Simona reached for the bags, shouldered one, and handed the other to Kal. Even though there were considerably fewer boulders and broken trees, they had to carefully climb over the debris. Kal had barely managed to clear the last of the hurdles when he slipped, twisted his ankle, and got his foot stuck in a gopher hole. Simona had to dig out his foot. Simona was grateful that Kal could still walk and didn't have a broken bone, though his foot looked quite swollen and it slowed their progress. As she looked up the mountain to locate the road they had to reach, she realized just how far she had slid down and how lucky she had been. She could have been seriously hurt. Simona paled as she thought of what could have happened. It was her fault that it would take them the remainder of the day to climb back up. Three days later, Simona and Kal arrived in Northern Hope just as the sun was about to set. Their journey, which should have taken them a fortnight, had taken them a sennight longer than anticipated due to the mishaps during their travel. "Finally!" Kal said as they walked past the first houses. The streets seemed deserted, the houses empty. Some of the houses lay in ruins. "I wonder if anyone lives here?" Kal muttered, looking around. "I could use a good meal," Simona replied, her stomach growling. "Our last meal wasn't exactly --" "You don't need to remind me," Kal grumbled. "If the strap of our food bag hadn't broken, we'd have had enough." "There must be people somewhere," Simona said as they walked past the first houses. None of the windows were illuminated. "It's too early for everyone to have gone to bed already." Halfway down the street she spotted a house with light shining onto the street. The door opened and a handful of people exited and hurried down the street without giving the two travelers a glance. Simona looked at Kal in surprise and was about to comment when the door opened again and a woman carrying a large basket stepped out and walked towards them. "Good day, mistress. Pardon my intrusion," Kal addressed the woman when she had reached them. "We just arrived and need a place to stay for the night. Which is the local inn?" The woman stared at Simona. "A bard! Never seen a bard in town. Did ya come to sing fo' us?" Simona smiled. "I can, time permitting. What town is this?" "'Tis Northern Hope," the woman said and carefully touched Simona's arm. Simona stepped half a step backward and the woman pulled her hand back. "Would you be so kind to direct me to the local inn?" "Da Lucky Round's over there," the woman replied and pointed in a general direction. Simona looked where the woman had pointed and saw the unmistakable sign of a pub. "Let's go," Kal said. "I could use a warm meal and a soft bed." "Many thanks," Simona said and the woman went on her way. "Do you think the people in this inn know if a mage is here?" Kal asked quietly after they'd entered the sparsely populated barroom. Three old men in dirty clothing sat at a table, drinking ale. A plump woman with brown hair tied in a bun, wearing a yellow dress, was cleaning tables. Nonetheless, she had heard him and answered before Simona could reply. "Of course we would know!" the woman said with confidence. "Everyone here knows him! My name is Dora. I'm the barmaid here." "Him?" Kal gave Dora a quizzing look. "He promised to get rid of the curse in town. Folk are curious to see if he can." "Where would the mage be?" Simona asked. "I think Anarr is either at Lord Araesto's Cat or somewhere in the mountains," Dora replied after a few moments of thought. "Don't know for sure." "Did you say Anarr is the mage in town?" Simona couldn't believe her ears. It was more than she had hoped for. She had heard about Anarr during her studies at the College of Bards. He had managed to use his powers to extend his own life many times, even after being on his deathbed. She thought, "He should be able to help me!" She felt relieved. A bit of luck after all the mishaps of the past few days felt good. "Maybe we should go to that inn and stay there," Kal suggested. Before Simona could answer the barmaid answered for her. "You won't get a room there. 'Sides, we've got the better beds." Simona grinned inwardly. She liked the woman. "We'll stay!" she decided and sat down at a table. "Why don't you bring us some ale and a bowl of whatever the cook made today?" The barmaid scurried away and in no time returned with two bowls of stew, placed one in front of Simona and handed the other to Kal. "Are you going to eat standing?" Dora said indignantly. Kal shook his head and then seated himself, picked up a spoon, and ate. "Not too bad," he commented when the barmaid seemed out of earshot, but she'd heard him again. "What'd you mean, 'not too bad'?" Dora quickly moved back to their table and stood in front of Kal, hands on her hips. "That's the best stew in town! And there better not be anything left in the bowl when I come to pick it up!" Simona had to bite her lip not to burst out laughing. She turned her head instead and coughed. Kal swallowed hard. "Of course not," he managed to reply and Dora stepped away from their table. Kal and Simona finished their meal in silence. When Dora returned, she inquired, "What brings you here? We've never seen a bard in town. Are you going to sing for us?" "Not tonight, Dora. I'm thirsty and in need of rest," Simona said. "Maybe a short song? While I get you some ale? Please?" Dora's eyes begged even more than her voice. Simona gave in and pulled her lyre from her bag. She gently plucked the strings on her instrument and began to sing, telling the story of her sister Megan as she had heard it from the people who had known her. "What a sad story." Dora wiped tears from her eyes and placed two tankards of ale on the table. "Would you mind telling us where our room is?" Simona asked and packed her lyre away. She then reached for one of the tankards and took several sips of ale. "You two married?" Dora asked. Simona looked at her in amazement. "What does it matter? We only need one room," Kal said before Simona could speak up. "T'is a respectable inn," Dora replied and pointed towards a wooden door. "You can sleep on the second floor. Through this door here, up the stairs, first door on your right. And you," Dora pointed at Simona, "can sleep in my room. I only have one empty room anyway. All others are taken." "It's quite alright --" Simona said, but Dora didn't let her finish. "He might take advantage of you. You'll stay with me." Dora wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, Simona had no doubt about that. Taking one look at Kal's face, she grinned. He seemed overrun by superior power. "I'll see you in the morning," Simona said, placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and picked up her bag. "We'll try to find Anarr then." "Straight," Kal replied and downed the contents of his tankard without stopping. "I'll see you in the morning." ======================================================================== Idol Hands Part 1 by Jon Evans 29 Yuli, 1018 Edmond was not considered a learned man by any means. He could not read, could only write an approximation of his name, and had no skills that he could use to make a living. While it was true that he had apprenticed as a blacksmith, there was no work for another smith in the small town of Northern Hope. Furthermore, every single business venture he had attempted had failed miserably. Many of the townsfolk were in the same predicament: the curse of Northern Hope had struck both noblemen and paupers. So as he sat at the table, staring across at the man who had just offered him a job, it didn't take him long to make up his mind. "I'll do it," he said. "I thought you might," Anarr said. "There is a certain desperation in your eyes, though I suppose that can be said of most of this town's inhabitants; the curse of Northern Hope seems to have had that effect on everyone." Anarr reached into his robes and produced two Rounds. He slid them across the table, the silver metal tinted red by the waning daylight coming through the window. "This is for expenses, and as a retainer. You'll get three more in Dargon. Tomorrow, we shall travel to the ruins, and return here the day after. After that, prepare for rough travel; we go to Dargon via Kenna, across the Darst Range." "Kenna?" Edmond screwed his face up in confusion. "Why not take the Asbridge River to the Cirr--" "Too long," Anarr replied. "I want to get this package to Dargon as quickly as possible, and the route over the Darst Range is faster." Edmond silently acknowledged that going through Kenna would be faster, though he was leery of traveling through the Darst Range. The ill-fortune that ran rampant through Northern Hope and its environs was dangerous on level ground; combining it with mountain travel could be devastating. Edmond glanced casually around Lord Araesto's Cat -- or the Cat, as the inn was commonly known. Dusk was approaching, but it was not quite dark enough to light the rush lamps. A dim haze settled in the air, as two score patrons enjoyed an evening drink at their tables or seated at the bar. Behind the counter, Moritan busied himself by wiping mugs with an old towel, smiling proudly, and serving orders. In front of him, burned into the wood of the bar, was the reason Lord Araesto's Cat enjoyed its increased popularity: the hand prints of Anarr the mage. It had only been two days, but already the hand prints were legendary, and everyone wanted to see the mark Anarr had left on their town. Anarr reached out to the pewter mug on his table, and wrapped his hand around it. He scowled, then closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Edmond saw dew gather on the outside of the pewter and a thin layer of ice form over the ale inside. Anarr opened his eyes and looked up at Edmond. "Wine, I enjoy at its natural temperature; ale, I prefer chilled." In the corner, gaming dice rattled and clicked as two patrons entertained themselves. Edmond felt a familiar urge to investigate, to see who was playing, and to find out what the stakes were. Could he join in? Then he firmed his resolve, tightened his jaw, and gripped the table with his hands. "I should be going," he said. "What prompts you to leave so quickly?" Anarr asked. "Nothing, really," Edmond lied. Again the dice crashed against the corner. Edmond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I have some things to do," Edmond said. He rose from his seat on the bench. "I'll meet you here at sunrise." Anarr scowled again. "Don't spend it all on one whore." "You did what?" Isabelle stood at her window, her blond hair turned fiery-red by the sun setting in the mountains. With the light behind her, Edmond could not make out her eyes, but he was certain they were focused in his direction with intense displeasure. "I took a job," he repeated. "In Dargon," she stated. He could hear sadness and frustration in her voice. "Only going to Dargon," he replied. "I'll be back in three sennights." "I could be dead in three sennights." She looked down at the dirt floor of her room, the strands of her hair falling loosely to the sides of her face. "You know this town is cursed." The words seemed to come from behind a mask. "Isabelle." He crossed the room to her. She turned her back to him, but allowed his arms to enfold her. "Anarr has removed the curse." "He says he removed it," she replied. Her voice was sad and tired. Northern Hope had done little to make her happy, and Edmond's gaming had done less. "How do we know he's even capable of that?" "I saw him use magic to chill his beer at the pub." "Oh, well!" she exclaimed. She turned around to face him then, breaking out of his embrace. "If he can chill his beer, then certainly he's powerful enough to break a curse!" Edmond sighed. This was not going according to plan. Not that he had actually formed a plan, but if he had, it would not have included arguing with his betrothed. He looked around the small home they shared. It was barely more than a shack. It had four walls and one window. The floor was packed dirt, and they shared a straw-filled mattress. She kept her dresses and a hairbrush in a chest by the side of the bed. He kept a spare shirt and coat on a hook nailed into the wall. He was quite aware of the poverty they endured. He was also aware that it was his fault. "Isabelle, we cannot afford to marry without any money, and there aren't any jobs for me in this town." "When we lived in Pyridain, you apprenticed as a blacksmith," she stated. "We've had this conversation before. Northern Hope has a blacksmith already, and there's barely enough work to keep him in business. And the crops didn't take. The cattle got sick and died." "If that was all part of the curse," Isabelle started, "and the curse is now lifted, then why can't you try those things again?" She turned to him, her eyes pleading. "I can. We can," Edmond insisted. "But we need money to start, and we don't have any." "We did," she said softly. It was his turn, now, to drop his eyes to the floor. He was sure she had not intended to hurt him, but he was all too aware of his problem. He'd given up the dice over the past month, but it was as much due to circumstance as any promises he had made: they had nothing left to sell. "I need to take this job. I was lucky to get it!" Isabelle sighed, and stared down at the dirt floor. "Alright," she conceded. She looked up into his eyes. "But three sennights, no more." "No more," he agreed. "And no gambling," she added, and he heard the warning in her tone. "No gambling, either," he promised. "Good," she said. Edmond folded his arms around her again, this time to comfort her. He smelled the scent of flowers in her hair. The warmth of her body pressed against him. His mind seemed to go blank while his heart beat faster. Isabelle looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded. Her stare swallowed him. She tilted her head slightly, then softly pressed her warm lips against his. When she next spoke, her voice was deep, smooth, and sultry. "If you're going to be away for a while, give me something to remember you." Edmond had delayed visiting his parents' home as long as possible. Isabelle had given him good reason, but it was also because he simply did not want to face either of them. He did not think he had the courage to ask them for anything more. Edmond's parents ran a dried goods store in Northern Hope, and Edmond had nearly caused its ruin. He owed them money -- money that he had gambled away in the dark corners of the Cat -- and he could not pay them back. They had covered his losses on more than one occasion. They were his parents, after all. But the last time he had come home to them with empty pockets and beer on his breath, instead of the sennight's profits from the till, they had thrown him out. Edmond's mother met him at the door to her home, she on the inside and he outside. The door had two sections, allowing the top to open while the bottom stayed closed. Thus his mother guardedly greeted her son. "It's late," she stated, but Edmond did not tell her what had delayed him. She frowned. "What do you want?" she asked. "I've come for some of my things, mother." She tilted her head sideways, sizing her son up with a skeptical squint of her eyes. "Can you pay for them?" Edmond lowered his gaze. "Some," he replied. "And more, when I return." "We've heard that before, Edmond. Your father and I are not throwing our coin away again." "They're my things!" he insisted. "Not anymore. They're all we have to cover our losses. Your losses," she added. Edmond reached into his pocket and withdrew one of the two Rounds that Anarr had given him. "There's more to be earned, but not if I can't have my things." "One Round is only a beginning for what you owe us," she said in a soft and dangerous voice. "Then let me make that beginning," he pleaded. "I need my sword," Edmond begged. "Why?" "I have a job. Real work." "Who would hire you?" his mother sneered. "Anarr the mage." Edmond arrived at Lord Araesto's Cat promptly at dawn. Anarr sat waiting in the common room, the remains of his breakfast on the table. The proprietor looked haggard and sleepy, unaccustomed to visitors actually waking before dawn. When Edmond waved hello, the proprietor scowled and went into the kitchen. "Incompetent bumpkin," Anarr muttered. "I look forward to eating in a respectable establishment." Anarr's hawkish eyes peered at Edmond, his long nose sniffed the air, and his bushy eyebrows rose as he said, "Surprising. She wasn't a whore, after all." Edmond twitched. "How --?" he started, and then shook his head. "Isabelle and I are betrothed." Anarr rolled his eyes. "Surprised again," he said dryly. "My brief respect for you has dwindled already." Anarr waved his hand in the direction of the stairs. "I have some supplies in my room. Bring them to the mule out back." Edmond hesitated, but did as he was told. He had never been a mercenary by profession, but he was reasonably certain that carrying goods like a merchant's stock boy was not part of the job. However, this was his first assignment. He owned his sword and nothing more. If he was going to make a living as a mercenary -- at least for the time being -- it was in his best interest to make sure his employer was happy. He therefore went to Anarr's room to retrieve the supplies. Edmond held the reins of the mule as he followed Anarr along their path. They had traveled up and down hills, into a heavily forested area, and finally into a sink hole at the base of a mountain. Edmond was surprised that Anarr had been able to find it, as the nearby terrain hid the entrance from casual observance. The walls of the pit were dotted with steaming cracks that drained hot liquid down their edges. The steam also made the surrounding rocks slippery and dangerous, though somehow Anarr picked a dry path for their descent. Sweat poured down Edmond's back, soaking his shirt and pants. He trudged along on weary legs, and his tentative steps were evidence of the blistered feet within his boots. His sword hung from his waist, as he had no scabbard for it, and slapped against his aching thigh with every step. He was, in a word, irritated. Anarr, on the other hand, strolled along as if he were walking in a clear field instead of into a hot pit of steam. He kept his beak-like nose pointed steadily towards their destination: some point up the canyon as far as Edmond could tell. Edmond wondered at Anarr's apparent age; he had the smooth skin and muscle tone of a man with thirty summers, yet tales of his adventures were many decades old. Was this the same man? Perhaps, Edmond considered, this mage had simply taken Anarr's name. Not that it mattered to him; his money was as good as anyone else's. Edmond looked at the sun. "Are we there yet?" he asked. "You remind me of a child," Anarr stated, not pausing in his pace. "There's a reason I never reproduced." "Well, it's bloody hot down here, and I'm tired. We've been walking all day." "We've only been walking for six bells," Anarr replied. "And the heat you are suffering is brought on by the exercise, of which you are in desperate need." Edmond muttered to himself, "This steaming pit of hell might have something to do with it." "I beg your pardon?" Anarr asked. "Nothing," Edmond replied. But a moment later he asked, "If you're such a powerful mage --" "Magus!" Anarr shouted. He stopped and turned to face Edmond. "The word is 'magus', not 'mage'." "What's the difference?" "A magus is a man who has been trained in the arcane arts, who has wisdom and power beyond regular men." "And a mage?" "A mage is nothing," Anarr sneered. "It is a made-up word; it is slang spoken by some cretin whose sole capacity for speech lay in monosyllabic banter, and worked its way into popular vocabulary by virtue of the laziness ever present in the uneducated mass of society." "Oh," Edmond said. Anarr turned around and began walking again. "Well if you're such a powerful *magus*, perhaps you could do some tricky magic thing and get us there already. My legs are breaking." Edmond said. Anarr stopped again and turned to face him. "Your legs are decidedly not breaking. I could, as you say, perform some 'tricky magic thing' to rectify that situation if you like. Hmmn?" Anarr's eyebrows rose with the question. "No, I thought not. Nor did I think you would realize that I have, in fact, already eased our travels through this day. Did you fail to notice the complete lack of obstacles on our path, or the ease with which we traversed the entrance to this canyon? Or did you think that an ancient path, unused by man for many years, would be as easily trod upon as a cobbled stone street?" Edmond opened his mouth to answer, but Anarr did not give him the opportunity. "No, let me guess. You didn't think about it, did you? You simply didn't think at all." Edmond sighed and lowered his gaze. "I can offer you one comfort, however, that you may not be expecting, though why I bother is beyond even my cognizance." Anarr said. Edmond lifted his eyes toward Anarr, expecting very little after that last tirade. Anarr was pointing at a pool of water in the base of the ravine. "Where these two water sources meet -- the one hot from the walls of the gorge and the other cold from the mountain spring -- there is a pleasant medium, worthy of revisit. We shall take a brief respite, and wash the grime of travel from our bodies." Edmond thanked the gods. Edmond had seen broken or burned down homes in the past. He had seen half-destroyed castles, and had experienced the destruction of an invading army first hand as Beinison soldiers forcibly occupied Pyridain. The ruins Anarr had led him to, however, were hundreds of years old, their form deteriorated by the slow decay of time. Edmond would not have even recognized them as part of a settlement. They were, for the most part, circular mounds that merely hinted at buildings. A few remnants of stone walls were knee-high, indicating where sturdier dwellings once stood. The long shadows of the approaching evening added their darkness to the surrounding decay. A few conifers grew in the area, assisting in dismantling and hiding the remaining structures. Only one building looked to be in the least bit habitable, and it had saplings growing out of the disheveled thatching of its roof. But there was a feeling in the air, a crispness that seemed to sharpen his senses. His curiosity was piqued; the presence of a roof on that structure made it stand out. He wanted to know more about these ruins. Who had lived here? Why had they left? What did they leave behind? Was there any ... treasure? Edmond pulled the mule into a flat square of grass bordered by stones that looked to be the remains of a former structure. He relieved the mule of its burden, and tied it off to a small tree. The mule began to munch the grass contentedly. "Come," Anarr called to Edmond. "There remains work to be done today." Anarr then led Edmond past the stone remains, and down a narrow dirt path. The path ended abruptly against a stone wall where the mouth of a small cave was partially covered with ivy. "Here," Anarr offered Edmond the lamp. "This is the entrance. Take the lamp and enter." Edmond stopped short. "Excuse me?" he asked. "There could be anything in there. Wolves. A bear." "There are none within, I promise you," Anarr said. "Then what is in there?" "The statue of a god, finely wrought, ancient and beautiful. Worth a small fortune. It is a rare and wondrous find," Anarr stated reverently. Edmond smiled wryly. "No, really, what's in there?" "Enter!" Anarr commanded, and Edmond suddenly felt a compulsion that outweighed his fear to enter the cave. The cave was low at the entrance, its ceiling slanted sideways with the angle of the mountain. Edmond ducked to avoid knocking his head against the stone. Once inside, the ceiling slowly took on a more rounded appearance, with occasional circular swirls ascending into shallow domes. Thin, tubular rock formations hung down, dripping water onto small rounded growths on the ground. The humidity in the cave was noticeable, though not oppressive. Down the tunnel, something glinted. It drew Edmond forward, shining brightly one moment and dully the next. He couldn't quite make it out from where he stood. He held the lamp in front and walked slowly toward the object. When he saw it for the first time, he could hardly believe his eyes. Anarr had not lied. In front of him was an ornate statue of a man -- perhaps a god, perhaps a demon -- sitting cross-legged with a sword flat across his lap. The statue was jet black, its head thrown back, its mouth open as if yelling at the sky, revealing sharp teeth. The sword was made of pure silver, and its eyes glinted red in the lantern's light. When he looked closely at the statue, he realized the man was in agony. A sense of pity overcame him, then. He felt sorry for the statue. It seemed a ridiculous thought, to feel pity for a statue, and yet he could not help himself. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Anarr asked. Edmond jumped, not realizing the magus had followed him in. "Yes," Edmond admitted. "But who is it?" "Gow," Anarr replied, "distorted by Amante. He suffers, and so the land around him suffers." "Who is Gow?" Edmond asked. "Gow is the Beinison god of love and honorable battle. Mark the difference: chivalrous battle is not necessarily war." "And Amante?" Anarr smiled. "Amante. Once a god of love, turned to lies and thievery by his jealousy. There is much more to the story, but I don't have time to educate you on religious and mythological matters." "Then this statue is the source of the curse?" "In a manner of speaking," Anarr replied. "Amante's curse is the source, but the curse has been placed upon this statue. I only recently discovered the proper supplications to bind the curse, but they are temporary, at best. Eventually, a means of removing the curse must be found, or, barring that, destroying the statue." "That seems ... unfortunate," Edmond said. The statue was a work of art, despite depicting the god in pain. "Come," Anarr said. "We must get to work and move the statue outside the cave. Tomorrow, we shall load it onto the mule." "That statue looks heavy," Edmond said. "The mule won't be happy." In fact, the mule was *not* happy. At first, Edmond did not think moving the statue would be possible. It was not so much that it was too heavy, but it was bulky and difficult to maneuver in the cramped space of the cave. Edmond did not wish to damage such a finely-wrought sculpture. He soon found, however, that the statue was virtually indestructible. While trying to lift it, Edmond had dropped it onto the solid stone of the floor. Any item dropped onto the rock floor would have displayed a dent, a mark, a scratch. The statue did not; it was completely unblemished by the fall. Anarr had suggested making a row of log rollers on the cave floor, and then pushing it slowly out of the cave. However, that would have been a lengthy process in and of itself. Eventually, Anarr tried magic. Edmond said that any magus of Anarr's reputation would have tried that earlier, and was then subjected to a long and tiring discourse on the dangers of magic and its misuse. Edmond was also instructed that, in Anarr's opinion, there were not any other magi of his reputation. Eventually he had admitted that the curse's influence had recently hindered his magic. However, now that the curse had been abated, his magic seemed to work fine. Anarr had been able to simply lighten the weight of the statue, which made it easier for Edmond to maneuver. In the morning, they placed the statue in a rucksack and fastened it onto the mule. Therefore, the mule was not happy. Anarr, on the other hand, seemed happy that his task was nearly complete. Edmond found himself somewhere between the two as they began their return trip to Northern Hope. Edmond smiled as he and Anarr walked down the center of Northern Hope's main street. It was good to be home, even after only one day away. Strangers and friends alike whispered and murmured to each other as they glanced in his direction, at the mule with the large pack on its back, and especially at Anarr, who walked with more than his usual amount of obvious pride. Anarr's self-importance was bad enough; the additional awe and honor Northern Hope would shower him with would make him unbearable. As they approached the Cat, Edmond recognized Kael Forester and two others walking toward them. "Greetings, milord Anarr, and welcome on your return to Northern Hope!" Kael nodded as he spoke. He seemed uncertain of himself, but that did not surprise Edmond. Most of the town's leaders were uncertain of anything, after the past two years of bad luck. "I am Kael Forester, the regent of these lands. I wonder if I and my fellow councilmen might share a word with you?" Anarr paused, then smiled and replied, "Gentlemen, I am at your service." Kael leaned forward and whispered. "It would be best if we could speak privately. We would like to discuss your ... ah, expedition before rumor sets the town in an uproar." Anarr nodded. "Milord Forester, I appreciate your discretion, and will place myself at your disposal. However, I have spent the last five days trudging back and forth through the forest and performing magics sufficient to bind the very gods." Edmond sighed and rolled his eyes. "I must see that my cargo is safely secured, and then I am going to enjoy the best meal that this backwater hovel can prepare. I hope that you and your councilmen will find it convenient to seek me in my quarters here at, say, second bell of evening?" Kael met Anarr's gaze and nodded back. "Indeed. Very well. Second bell." As they retreated, Anarr swung back toward the tavern, only to bump into a woman who had appeared at their side during the conversation. She was a black-haired woman, attractive enough, but it was her blue-painted lips that made her stand out. She was a stranger to Northern Hope, as far as Edmond could tell. "Anarr, I need to talk to you," she said. "I need your help to lift a terrible curse which has afflicted my family for gen--" "Silence!" shouted Anarr, and her words were choked off, though her mouth still tried to form words. Anarr was suddenly bristling with annoyance, though Edmond could see no reason for the outburst. "I am here because I choose to be here," he said. "I am not here to cure your affliction, or those of your family or your god-forsaken village! Nor am I bound by some silly creed to help every diseased or misbegotten peasant who crawls up to me. I have far more important works to do. Be gone!" Anarr turned, his eyes smoldering. "Edmond! Bring the artifact up to our room." "But ... but the room's on the second storey! You hired me to guard the statue, not carry it everywhere you go ..." Anarr spat back at him. "Then get one of your local buddies to do it. Or hire someone; I already gave you two Rounds! I don't want that thing out of your or my sight until we're safely in Dargon." Then he left, storming his way into the Cat, and probably, Edmond thought, throwing people out of his way as he did so. "'I don't want it out of my sight,'" Edmond mimicked Anarr, adding a whine to his voice. "And what's with the 'our' room? It's his, not mine," he continued speaking aloud to himself while he removed the package from the mule's back. "Excuse me," asked a woman, "is that, or is that not, Anarr, the famous mage?" "He's no mage," Edmond replied. "He's a pain in my ass." The mule snorted its agreement. Edmond's guard duty started early the next morning when he awoke next to the statue. Anarr had gone for a morning walk, and then off to the main street; the town elders had declared a festival day to celebrate Anarr's accomplishment, and he was expected to make an appearance. There was no one else at the inn, Edmond was certain, but Anarr had assured him that if someone were going to steal the statue, the festival would be an excellent distraction. So he kept awake, despite the pleasant drumming of the rain against the roof. And then he heard the front door open and close. Someone was walking along the floor on the lower level. Whoever it was, they were being quiet. He heard the sound of a chair scraping briefly against the floorboards, then a creak on the steps. Edmond held his sword in his right hand and looked around the room. Where should he attack from? Behind the door? No, then he wouldn't be able to see who was coming into the room. He crept to the door and quietly slid the bolt. The metallic click sounded as loud as a drum. The festival music drifted through the window, in time with the beating rain. Edmond's heart was racing; the leather handle of the sword felt sticky against his sweaty palms. Perhaps it was just another guest? Then the stranger tried to open the door, only to find it bolted. Edmond knew it was no accident this person was trying to get into the room. If they somehow managed to break the bolt, then Edmond knew he was going to have to fight. Then the stranger knocked on the door. "Edmond?" a woman's voice called to him. Edmond dropped the sword and slipped the bolt, sighing in relief. "Isabelle!" he shouted as he opened the door. She stood in the doorway, wearing her best yellow dress. It was spotted with raindrops, but her soft blond hair had been kept dry by her green shawl, now draped around her shoulders. "The hero of Northern Hope," she said. She smiled warmly and her blue eyes shone as she stepped through the doorway. "Not quite," Edmond said. He blushed bashfully, and took her into his arms. When Anarr returned to the inn, he was accompanied by the woman with blue-painted lips, whose name was Simona. Anarr dismissed Edmond and Isabelle, and they willingly left his company to enjoy the festival. Despite the rain, musicians filled the streets: flutists and pipers lined the muddy roads, fiddlers and drummers played under tents. Vendors hawked food, speeches were made, and dancing ensued. A fight broke out between Gaston the Elder and a farmer named Hendrich, over a matter of little importance, but due to the nature of the celebration, neither was impounded in the stocks. The time Edmond and Isabelle spent at the festival passed all too quickly. Edmond received many compliments and good wishes from the townsfolk for being involved with removing the curse. Even his parents, who were the gruffest of his critics, wished him well. Ultimately, however, Anarr summoned him back to duty. "You are in my employ to guard this statue, not frolic with women," Anarr stated. "Celebrate when you return. We leave for Dargon." "Dargon," thought Edmond. He had heard great tales of Dargon, but had never visited the city. Dargon had repelled the Beinison invaders, something the people of Pyridain had failed to do. Clifton Dargon, the duke, was said to be a great captain, and his fleet had defeated the Beinisonians during the war. How magnificent the harbor must be! How imposing the fortress! How proud the people! Edmond began packing supplies for the journey, momentarily forgetting his life in Northern Hope. ========================================================================