Tender Mercies: Book 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Yamara began, "I relived those final moments in the capitol of Elendar. My sword plunging into Brina's belly to get to James and his own blade slashing mercilessly across Brina's throat. As much as I tried to stem their intrusion into my consciousness, I could not. No matter how cold or hard hearted I tried to be, I had let Brina in to deeply to rid myself of her memory like a duck shaking water off of its back...

Stumbling through the sewers, imagine my surprise to find the very same entrance I had used to enter the sewers when I confronted James was now sealed off by a combination cave in of mud and sewage. Thus I was forced to escaped from Elendar into a great system of caverns beneath the mighty kingdom. The things I heard and occasionally caught glimpses of in the eerie glow of the lichens and fungus caused me to squirm and shudder in ways I had forgotten since my earliest years. If King Avercrombie knew how close monsters lay to his realm, I doubt he would sleep as lightly as he seemed to. Hope seemed lost to me for I had run out of what meager ration of food I had managed to secure haphazardly on my flight from the palace. My fate seemed to be no less cruel the Brina's, and equal parts my own fault.

Then, when I had nearly decided to charge the next fearsome dweller of the deep I happened across, I heard from far ahead the sound of water falling. A great amount of it, no less. Approaching carefully lest I disturb the lair of whatever creature secured such a pool, I was greeted by increasing light. To my great surprise the distant thunder had become a veritable roar. Rounding a bend in the passage I beheld a great cavern with a recessed wall on the far side. Down this wall fell the great river that fed the noise that had drawn me there. The light was so bright it hurt my eyes there, though surely it was quite feeble by normal standards and my eyes merely adjusted to the dark. At the zenith of the falls a beam of sunlight plunged into the water, fragmenting and scattering across the cavern.

The rainbow created by the mist and the light was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. For a moment my heart was lifted, and thoughts of my tragedy left me. Then I noticed how difficult my path lay, for the wall was slick and several feet away from the hole in the ceiling of the chamber through which the water and light fell. Nonetheless, already buoyed, my spirits refused to leave me again. Falling back on my stubborn streak of pride, I pushed off at once.

It took me hours and no small amount of pain and blood loss to make my way up the 40 foot ascension to the ceiling, and perhaps another hour there to secure a way to escape the dank and slimy caverns below. I was blinded by the sunlight, even though it was nearly dusk by the time I emerged. The waterfall continued on above me, falling off of a cliff and into the depths to go whence I knew not where.

Around me was a small glade within a forest of mighty trees. A deer far off looked at me with its ears flattened for a moment before it took off, running deeper into the great oak and beech trees. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the ground and slept, unmindful of my safety.

I dreamt then, and they were dreams of terrible things. I saw James, grinning in death with a bloody hole in his throat. He sat upon a dark throne made of cruelly forged iron, and beside him sitting upon the floor dressed like a concubine was Brina. Her skin was pale and bloodless, but at least her wounds were healed. James' gaze was filled with hatred, while Brina's was far more accusing.

I awoke then, covered in a cold sweat. Breathing hard, I looked around quickly, wondering if somehow Brina and James had come back from the dead and were stalking me. Instead I saw a host of animals. Wolves, bears, deer, squirrels and rabbits, owls, hawks, and sparrows, and countless other species were gathered about the clearing, all watching me. I stood up slowly, making no threatening moves. My stomach grumbled loudly as I glanced at all of the wild game around me, reminding me that I had not eaten for a couple of days.

A man came out then from the trees, though I would have sworn he had not been there a moment before. He walked through the animals without concern, his face unseen within the hooded cowls of the brown robe that cloaked him. He came up to me and reached up to pull the hood back on his robe. He had a rugged countenance, with a flowing black beard and mustache. His equally black hair was long as well, though it seemed tended and not wild. His eyes were the most entrancing part of him, for they were a dark blue and pierced me as they looked at me. I felt lost for a moment as I met his gaze, then my inner self reared up and I forced myself to return his gaze with a strength bordering on belligerence.

"You are not of this world," He finally said to me. His tone was not judging but still somehow decisive.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to steer the encounter my way instead of his.

"Humans once called me Andryth. The elves call me Quikwind. Names matter little to me, call me what you wish."

"What is this place, Andryth?" I asked, wondering if perhaps things were finally beginning to go my way.

"This is the Irewood, one of the few truly old forests that still remember in the lands this far north. Only the Great Forest to the south has trees as old and with memories as sharp as those here. I watch over these woods and protect them and all who live here from harm." He turned away and began to walk away then, as though he had said enough.

"Wait!" I called out, stepping after him. "Can you tell me no more?"

He continued to walk as he spoke. "What more is there to know? You are unnatural to this place, this world. There is no place for you here. You must leave. Harm no thing under my care and you may leave as you wish."

The animals parted to allow us to pass, though they closed up ranks behind us and followed closely, as though they were an honor guard.

"How do I get out of here then?" I asked, bristling at his calm surliness.

"You will be guided."

I opened my mouth to say more but stopped in my tracks when I realized that he had just walked into the trunk of an oak tree. Instead of bouncing off, as I or anyone else I know would do, he had literally walked into it, as though the tree had sucked him inside of it. I turned about to look around, testing my eyes. All of the animals that had been trailing us were gone as well. I swooned for a moment, questioning my sanity and wondering if perhaps my hunger had caused me to imagine things. Then I saw the tracks on the ground from all of the myriad creatures that had been behind me. I felt a little bitter, though still miserably hungry and lost.

"Where are you, oh promised guide?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. No answer was forthcoming.

I glanced about then and guess by the level of light that it was nearing dusk. I set about then to arrange a camp for myself. The temperature was pleasant but growing cooler. In the dead of night I suspected that it would be downright chilly where I was, and with only my fur lined cloak to protect myself over my leathers, I did not look forward to it. I had flint and steel with me though, so there was hope for a fire at least. I carried no axe for the chopping of wood, and my sword and dagger, while finely tuned for hewing flesh, were of little use against wood. Thus I set forth to gather fallen wood where it lay, thinking as I did so that perhaps this suited me better anyhow, as I was causing no harm to any of the trees here and thus not invoking the wrath of the druid, Andryth.

As a small boon, in my wandering I found a patch of ripe blueberries on a rocky hillside as the last of the suns rays slipped beneath the top edges of the forest. Feasting on them as though it was the finest meal I had eaten in days, I began to feel a little better about my chances. When the spark caught in the deadwood and I had a warm and merry blaze to keep myself company throughout the night, I resolved to push ahead for a better tomorrow, regardless of my past misfortunes.

I had cared for Brina deeply. More deeply then I should have. The extent of that care I was uncertain of, however. Was it a camaraderie or a partnership or more of a sisterly bond. Or was it more still, that of a lover and mate? The last thought frightened me, for I refused to accept the possibility of even wanting a mate, be it of any gender or race. "Perhaps," I mused quietly to myself that night, "I am better off with Brina dead, as much by my own hand as any."

I slept soon then, convinced that the forest was safe. With the fire banked it kept me warm enough throughout the chilliest part of the night and was reduced to lukewarm embers by morning. My greatest surprise came from my new companion.

Standing over me stood a magnificent specimen of masculinity. Heavily muscled and gleaming in the early morning dew, I came to discover his name was Darion in the time that followed. Where his ridged and powerful looking stomach muscles ended fur began. The fur was a dark gray in color, and began the half of his physique I had seldom studied much, for I was only slightly familiar with the riding and tending of horses. He was a centaur, and apparently, my guide.

Darion spoke little to me throughout the next two days, only when he felt he must. Clearly he disliked me, though for what cause I had no idea. Perhaps centaurs possessed the ability to see a persons past, or perhaps that was merely a thought given to me by my latent guilt. Regardless, he shared his seemingly endless supply of nuts and berries that he carried in a pouch, and cool and clear water from a skin. The only other things he carried were a curved dagger near his waste, a bow across his back, and a quiver of flight arrows for the bow.

I thanked Darion when we reached the southern edge of the Irewood. I had been on my best behavior, doing my best to respect both the forest and my guide. Regardless he remained aloof. I considered asking him for a final meal before I left, but thought better of it for he clearly wished to be elsewhere.

I wandered south then, away from the forest and towards what I suspected was Elendar's southern border. Along the way my diet improved as I managed to snare a few rabbits and once even spirited away a farmers stray chicken. It took me a few weeks since I was avoiding any of the villages and cities along the way, but I was finally successful at reaching the border. However a great wall was in my way, patrolled by Elendarian guardsmen.

Hoping I had reached the southern borders ere news of my transgressions, I walked boldly through the gate. There I showed my SET badge to a sergeant and was offered all manner of courtesy. I secured a horse and some spare equipment, including some iron rations and water, and was on the road again without resting that very day. I found it both relieving and disconcerting that no word of James had reached the border keep as yet.

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"I have a question," Jason said, interrupting Yamara's tale. If he was surprised at her detailed account of herself, he hid it well. He had accepted everything up until then fairly well, but a few things that had been nagging at him finally had to be answered.

Yamara's eyes lost the distant look they had adopted as she made herself recount the events that she believed were relevant to her current situation. She had started a couple of times and stopped, only to start a little further back. This time she was convinced she had gotten it. She was concerned about revealing to much of herself but then realized that if Jason ended up showing the least sign of treachery to her, she could simply kill him and not have to worry about it. Until then though, she needed his help on his strange world to find Alesha's sword.

"Who is this Brina you keep mentioning? James as well, but it seems like Brina is a much sorer subject for you."

Yamara sighed deeply. "Brina was someone I met on another world. It was a desert planet. When I found a portal off of that world I brought Brina with me. She was… she was my apprentice and my friend." Yamara forced herself to keep from going to far back in her memories and addressed the second question. "James was a horses ass if ever I met one. A con man of great proportions, I'll never know how he rose to such a high position. He was in charge of the Elendarian Intelligence Agency and the Special Elendarian Task force, two closely related organizations devoted to rooting out any threat to the Kingdom of Elendar and eliminating it before it reached its greatest potential. He wanted Brina any way he could get her and went out of his way to dispose of me to get to her. Brina was a naïve girl and did not see things as clearly as she should have if I had been more attentive to her training."

Jason nodded, thinking he understood more that she left unsaid and perhaps figuring some small part of it out.

"You're taking this talk of different worlds pretty well," Yamara observed, noting that he did not seem the least bit concerned about the ideas she presented being alien to his native way of thinking. She herself had a hard time accepting exposure to a new world her first time, but had quickly adapted. She considered such an ability a mark of worth for a person to possess.

Jason smirked. "I have a story too. Let's get back to yours, there will be time for the 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine' game later."

Yamara nodded, he had her at a disadvantage and she thought she knew the best way out of her situation. She cast herself back down memory lane and took up her tale again. Outside Cowboy lit another cigarette and braced himself squarely before attacking the soda machine against the side of a building, finally rocking it enough to get out the soda he had nearly lost his dollar on.

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Yamara continued, "I came finally through trial and mishap to a port town by the name of Peltarch. It was one of the largest port towns south of Elendar for many leagues, and was a den of thievery and marketeering. I got away from there as quickly as I could, but not before I stumbled across a bar fight scene started by a man named Thorrik. I recognized him as a former sergeant of Elendar, then a SET agent. Of course, few people outside of Elendar knew of the existence of SET. To the scum of Peltarch, Thorrik was merely a thorn in their side. By the time I left the city, I began to notice wanted posters with his picture and description on them, offering upwards of a kings ransom of twenty thousand gold for his capture, alive or dead. Seems he had made a mission out of his life to tweak the noses of Peltarch's nobles every chance he had...

Leaving Peltarch I made my way further to the south, where I heard of great ruins and a frontier type of living. I figured there I had a chance to earn a new way of life and escape the rut of my old one. Honest I might never be, but that did not mean I had to be a murderer and a thief. Well, at least not without a good reason.

I found what I sought in a small hamlet named Barovia. Far to the south, on the hottest of days it reminded me of a morning or evening on Brina's home world. That of course set me to remembering more of Brina, so I tried not to think about that. I still had dreams and nightmares about her and James as well. Sometimes they seemed so real that I felt as though they were searching for me or chasing after me. I suspected that it might be more then simply the work of a guilty conscience, but then thought better of it, for before I had never cared for anyone that I had killed, either directly or indirectly.

It was after a few months in Barovia, when I had begun to become accepted by the locals, when I had an opportunity to prove myself. Two men had disappeared out hunting for food for their family while their father was busy tending the farm. The townsfolk were organizing search parties for them, though I personally held little hope for their survival. They had been missing for nearly two days by that time.

I set out on my own, explaining how I worked best alone with nobody else foiling up any tracks or getting in the way. This was accepted readily enough, for in Barovia I was just another trapper / furrier making her living as best she could. Nobody asked about a persons background in Barovia, for it seemed nearly everyone had one.

I got to the farm ahead of the rest of the townsfolk and tracked the men out into the sparse woods nearby. From there I encountered other tracks. Tracks that I had trouble identifying, but finally decided they were humanoid, if a bit slurred and confused. Other tracks appeared to be that of wolves. I figured it to be a hunting party of men out with pet wolves, though I suppose orcs were more likely to accompany wolves the size of the ones the tracks indicated.

I followed immediately. I knew in my gut the children were already slain, but until I found signs of their demise, I had to proceed. The tracks led to the south, with the children's signs disappearing altogether. No doubt they were being carried. In no time the forest was left behind and the dry wasteland of the salt flats lay ahead of me. Tracking across a salt flat is all but impossible even for a trained and experienced ranger, let alone someone barely proficient in the skill. Nonetheless, I felt I knew where they were bound, for directly ahead in the distance I could just barely make out the shadow of the ruins of a once mighty city.

Daylight was fading by now. I had been on the chase for nearly five hours and had perhaps two left ere dusk. A chill crept down my spine for some unknown reason, but I felt my duty to these people I had chosen to try and make my own. I pushed forward then thankful for the mountains to the west that would block the sunlight bearing down on me. In hindsight, sunlight might have been more preferable to the darkness that overcame me nearly 15 minutes before I reached the ruins.

Once in the ruins there was dust and sand enough to allow me to find the tracks of the mysterious kidnappers again. The tracks led me to the men… by way of an ambush. The ruins were quite large and resembled buildings the type of which I had never seen before. It was rather thoroughly dark by then, with not even a faint bit of twilight from the sun in the west. The moon was risen roughly a third of the way, however, and it was waning from full two nights past.

Realizing that gave me the only warning I would have. I made the connection finally. A full moon two nights past, the same night the men had disappeared. Tracks of both men and wolves. I was hunting were-beasts, though by now the hunter had become the hunted.

A musky animal smell wafted by my nose then, followed closely by the faint sound of claws scratching on stone. I spun around and ducked low just in time to avoid the snapping jaws of a wolf as it sailed over me. Well, partially over me, his hind quarters crashed into my shoulder and sent me stumbling to the side.

A growl from that direction had me skittering away, finally getting my sword and dirk in hand to defend myself. A wolf approached from that direction then, walking slowly and crouched, ready to spring. It snarled at me, spittle bubbling and drooling from it's mouth. I glanced around and saw a five wolves surrounding me, each with a cruelly intelligent look in their eyes.

I have heard that chance favors the prepared mind. I was not prepared and they were, so I was determined to even the field a bit. I ran towards one, slashing out with my sword. The wolf sprang away, giving me an opening in the circle of teeth surrounding me. The other wolves yipped and came after me, but not in time to catch me before I leapt up to the top of a small dais where once a statue had stood. I had gained a four foot height advantage on them, not nearly enough to thwart them, but enough to give me an advantage of height.

They circled around me, occasionally darting towards me then backing away when they found my blades ready and waiting. A few times I was nearly taken by well timed attacks, but I always managed to fight them off. Several wolves now sported wounds from my magical swords which seemed to cause them a surprising amount of pain. The ones that were wounded regarded me warily, while the others simply approached me more carefully.

I killed them all, of course, otherwise I would not be able to tell this story. It was slow and fraught with peril though, and only after I luckily dispatched the first one with a thrown dagger did the others come close enough to allow me to meet out my brand of justice. Seeing one of their number down and me with only my shortsword, they all charged at me, nearly tripping over each other in their rush to get to me. I unsheathed the dagger given to me by King Avercrombie and noticed it fairly thrummed with power in my hand. It had not done that before, so I had no choice but to guess that it's magic enabled increased power when wielded against shape changers.

With the wolves dead or dying, I noticed how their bodies seemed to shimmer and contort, some more then others. When a few minutes had passed and I had caught my breath, all five of my slain enemies had partially reverted back to a humanoid form, some more then others. It was a rather unsettling sight, and I moved on quickly, checking myself carefully for wounds. I found only a few gouges from claws and one scrape and bruise from where I had landed on the dais a little less then gracefully. I knew from my studies with the Zhentrim that lycanthropism, the magical disease that infects men and causes them to change into animals at night, is transferred both via genetics in a more true and powerful form and also through the bite of an infected creature.

My cloak had some tears in it as well, but I was ready to go on and fight another day. Or at least another fight, since I was sure there were more of the werewolves around. I gathered my tossed dagger and returned the gift dagger to its concealed sheath in the small of my back.

I trekked on, trying to make sense of the tracks of the creatures. I followed them as best I could over the rubble of the ruins, ending up finally at what was a large building. It reeked of the musky scent of an animals den. I felt the dagger in the small of back radiating its magical energy as I got closer, warning me. I approached it carefully and was allowed to continue breathing because of that caution. The wolf defending the entrance of the lair missed me only by inches as I fell backwards. It landed on my chest though, and its claws dug painfully into my left arm and right breast. The wolves hind legs alternated tearing at my thighs and belly, raising welts under the tough leather armor that continued to protect me but risked a good shredding with each new assault. The wolves jaws and fetid breath snapped in my face, trying to go for my throat. Only my right arm grasping tightly about the wolves throat kept it from succeeding.

My sword and dagger had fallen somewhere nearby, making them unavailable to me. My left arm, pinned to the ground just below the shoulder by the wolves paw, was mobile enough to slip behind my back and once again draw the dagger from the King. I tried slashing at the wolf with it, but was unable to get enough leverage or distance with my arm to connect with the wolves furry torso. A great lance of fiery pain entered my body then, one of the wolf's hind legs had managed to hook just above my leather breeches and yank them down my leg part way, leaving four bloody furrows on my upper thigh.

I kicked upwards with my other leg, catching the wolf in the belly and genitals. I was pleased to note that the same assault works on males regardless of race or whether they go on two or four legs. The wolf yipped and backed off a bit, giving me enough of a chance to yank my arm out from under its paw and drive my dagger deep into its chest. The wolf staggered away, whimpering softly as its lifeblood bubbled out the ragged hole in its chest.

I sat there, breathing heavily and straining to listen for any signs of additional pursuit. I found my discarded weapons and regained my feet, yanking my torn and bloody pants back into proper place and favoring my wounded leg. Inside the lair I found another wolf standing guard over what appeared to be a pile of fabric or clothing or something. It was too dark in the building for me to be sure of what it was.

The wolf charged at me. I ducked under its lunge and laid its side open with my sword. It howled in pain and tried to scamper away. I followed it mercilessly, hacking into its head as it snapped at me. I turned towards whatever it was guarding as it lay quivering on the floor in death spasms.

It was indeed piles of clothing and equipment. Pots, pans, a few boxes and sacks, all manner of mundane gear that people would use for whatever utilitarian living purpose could be imagined. There was even some coins and weapons, the former I gathered up quickly while the latter I judged to be nothing out of the ordinary.

From there I studied the room more carefully. In the back, hidden in the shadows, was a passage leading deeper into the strange ruined building. I approached it slowly, ever mindful of the skill with which these creatures seemed able to hide themselves and launch a surprise attack with.

The passage went further then I needed to, for an open doorway on my right led into a room with some rubble piled off on my left side as I entered and some makeshift bedrolls scattered about the rest of it. It was in there that I found the two men from Barovia. They were being cared for by a naked woman, not exactly the idea guardian. She sniffed wildly as I approached them, and then stood up to face me. She growled deep in her throat and bared her teeth at me. I could tell that she was one of the were wolves by the animalistic behavior, if not the thrumming power radiating from the dagger nestled against my back.

When she rushed towards me I noticed her face beginning to elongate and her fingers turning into wicked looking claws. She got in one swing with her fist / paw (which I slipped to the side of) before I retaliated, plunging my sword into her chest and driving my dagger into her mouth. I yanked my weapons free and let her slide to the floor, her body contorting itself into her death pose.

The men were sleeping, though fitfully. They looked to be in fine shape, which surprised me greatly. I figured them for dinner for the pack of werewolves. I knelt next to them ready to wake them and have them follow me when I felt the dagger hum its warning. I spun around quickly, prepared for another surprise attack. Nothing was sneaking up on me though.

I turned back to the children, my stomach clenching. I pulled the dagger out and held it close to him. It glowed dimly in my hand and I could feel it vibrating with an inner wrath. I cursed softly. I held it near the other and achieved the same result. I examined the children more closely then, checking for wounds. Sure enough, on each of the calves was a mostly healed bite mark. They were not there for a meal, but to increase the pack.

To the best of my knowledge, there is no cure once the disease has set. Wolvesbane and other herbs are supposed to be able to fight it, but in that case, it was too late. I studied both of them, teenagers. My hand quivered slightly as I clenched the dagger in fingers gone white. I glanced around one more time then spat out a muffled curse at whatever Gods were making my life as difficult as they were.

I stood up once the deed was done, blood dripping off the dagger. Turning towards the door I saw the first of the group of villagers that had reached the ruins staring in open mouthed shock at me. Two more stood behind him and others were in the hallway trying to get a look.

I opened my mouth to explain, realizing what the seen might look like to them. Any of my words were lost in the screaming that began. Roars of outrage and challenge assailed me as the posse surged forward. I was going to throw down my dagger and explain myself but I realized I would have no chance. The father of the children was in the lead, his great sword drawn and a murderous fury in his eyes.

I turned and ran, heading towards the rubble strewn side of the room. Above the fallen rubble was a small hole opening to another room. I jumped up and caught it with my hand then pulled myself through. Dropping into the next room, I found a window that led outside. I was outside and slipping quietly away from the building before any of them saw me leave. Then the inevitable happened. One of the guards left outside the werewolves lair spotted me and called out, thinking that I was still a friend and not a foe.

What choice did I have? I ran. The ruins were dark, the moon behind a cloud at the time. A faint wind had sprung up, just enough to add an extra bit of chill to the night. Heat still radiated off of the ground, but the earth had nearly given up what it had absorbed during the day already.

I slipped between ruined buildings, taking the toughest courses possible and knowing that I could navigate them far easier then my pursuers. This worked well for me until I came to a dead end. What had once been a doorway into a building had fallen into such a state of disrepair that the open doorway was filled from within by fallen rubble. I looked back behind me to see if I had time enough to slip back out and into another passage. My hopes were dashed as they began to round the corner. I turned back and my vision swam before me for a moment.

This time, instead of seeing a dilapidated doorway covered in rubble, I saw a stout wooden door that was well maintained. A sign next to it read "The Tavern of the Broken Axe".

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"Ah ha! I knew it!" Jason burst in. "I knew the tavern had to come in at some point or other."

Yamara looked at him with understanding. "You've been there too?"

Jason chuckled and glanced away briefly. "No," he admitted, "but that's part of my story. I just suspected you had something to do with that place." Jason thought for a moment before he put a few more things together in his mind. "It helps to explain a few other things to me as well," he muttered.

"So what happened next?" Jason asked, pressing her to continue before he could get to distracted.

"Well, I had little choice. With the armed and enraged people from Barovia behind me, I had to go through the doorway and try to escape. It worked, for none of the townsfolk followed me." Yamara stopped, debating what next to say. Finally she continued. "There, in the tavern, I met Alesha."

Jason snapped his fingers. "Now we come full circle. Tell me of Alesha and your dealings with her."

Continued in Chapter 4

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