Yamara - Book 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

My first step was simple. I needed to know more. A few obvious choices lay before me, but at least one of them had a low survival probability. The best alternative was also the closest. I had to find that gnome.

Tracking him was easy, he had run away from my small realm in terror, after all. And run right through the basilisk's and the snake's domains. The basilisks had been napping through the warmth of the afternoon sun, but the snake had been more alert. What do you do when you are tracking the same thing that a 50 foot snake is after?

I came up behind the snake and debated long and hard about the sudden turn of events. The gnome still lived for the snake continued forward, following his tracks and his scent. He had slowed down for a little while, some thirty feet perhaps, but then something had spooked him and he had taken flight again. It was that which probably kept him alive.

I was still carrying the spare weapons I had acquired from the group of adventurers. One item, in particular, showed that it might have some promise for my situation. A short spear, five feet long from shaft to head, had been one of the weapons the elven ranger had carried. The head was broad and suited for both slashing and piercing. Not familiar with the weapon, it nevertheless did not strike me as being suited for throwing, but rather for hand-to-hand combat.

And so I used it thusly. I crept through a ruined building the snake was next to and moved both quickly and silently. I gained height via a set of crumbling stairs and looked out through what had once been a window, but was now a ruined and gaping hole. It moved below me now, swiftly for its size but not nearly as swiftly as I knew it could move. I took a few steadying breaths and prepared the spear in front of me. Then I jumped.

It can be argued many ways as to how my luck runs. Some would insist it naught but bad luck, considering the turn of events time and again in my life that kept me running from one poor situation to the next. Others might think it was good, as I still drew breath while many of those around me did not. I did not believe in luck, myself.

So then it had to be skill that allowed me to drive that spear through the middle of the snakes sinuous body and leave it firmly imbedded in the hard ground beneath. That or maybe coincidence, which I did believe in. Regardless of why or how it happened was the simple fact that it did happen. The next thing to happen, as I rolled away and came back to my feet, was just as easily foreseeable. The snake was understandably perturbed by this change of events. Not only had its odds of having a gnome for dinner been reduced, but it had a giant toothpick sticking out of its back.

The snake turned to survey the situation, hissing angrily. It saw me and snapped forward, trying - and succeeding - to twist its body around ahead of where I had pinned it. I jumped backwards and continued to backpedal furiously. I knew that the odds of me striking a mortal blow to the creature a one in a million chance, but figured what the hell, I had seen more difficult tasks accomplished.

Fortunately, the spear held and the snake's mobility was limited. I went around the same building I had used to ambush the reptile then, and continued towards wherever the gnome had gone. His frenzied flight had taken him further towards the center of the ruins, into areas where I had scarcely been before, if at all. I kept my blades ready and slowed my pursuit to try and make certain that nothing got the drop on me.

I ground my teeth in frustration. My caution might cost the gnome his life. While his well being did not matter to me in the least, he did possess information that I sought. Information that would be extremely difficult to get out of him if he were dead.

I managed to catch up to the gnome late that night. He had a cold camp and kept a bleary eyed watch. That did little to deter me, however. He was hiding in the shadowy recesses underneath a pillar that had toppled centuries past, and stared out with his sleep dulled night vision.

What caught me off guard was the intense keening noise that erupted out of nowhere when I slipped up behind his hole. I leapt atop the pillar and dove into his lair, clapping my hands onto him and pulling him to the ground as quickly as possible to prevent him from gaining any more advantage over me. I knew instinctively what I had tripped in my stalking of him, some sort of magical alarm spell.

"Silence that racket, gnome, ere we are discovered!" I whispered harshly to him while my hands dug cruelly into his body. He whimpered and struggled against me. I let him get enough room to see that I was human and he opened his mouth to squawk out a magical command that silenced it.

I only hoped he had done it in time. I had never been that deep into the ruins so I had no idea what lived there.

"Who are you?" He said, staring angrily at me. It was an angry fear though, a look that I do not think I had ever seen before.

I had no reason to hide, the gnome was at my mercy, wizard or no. "I am Yamara Blackcloak."

His expression turned to one of surprise. "We came to find you. I mean, my friends and I. But now I'm the only one left."

He trailed off, becoming sorrowful. I had no time or interest in his misery though. "I know, I spoke with your priest ere she died. She told me you sought me."

"You saw her?" he asked, surprise in his tone. Surprise and a bit of skepticism. "Is what they said about you in Barovia true then?"

"Depends on what they say," I muttered, growing tired of the conversation. I glanced about and noted no movement, yet I felt as though something was coming. "Come, we must away ere your cantrip summons up the creatures that guard this place."

Some of the blood that had gone back into his face left it again at that. He looked around nervously. "What creatures?"

"Stay and find out, if you wish."

He hurried after me, little legs pumping furiously to catch up to my longer legged stride. I detoured around the snakes lair and headed north and east, angling to get out of the ruins as quickly as possible. They had served me well for a time, but now I felt that I must again rejoin the world of my peers, for better or ill.

The gnome was silent throughout, keeping up with me without complaint. I stopped and waited only once, when the morning sun began to clear the eastern horizon. A small group of leathery winged creatures, humanoid but perhaps two feet tall at the most, were fighting with each other as they tumbled out of a ruined building. The fight appeared not to serious to me, more a thing of play or of establishing rank. One of them was wounded in the fight and tried to limp away from the skirmish. Instead the others teamed up against him and in moments fell on him, sharp teeth and claws tearing him apart. With their fast thus broken, they moved off into the ruins to the south of us, heading deeper in.

I silenced any questions the gnome might have with a glare and moved off again, passing quickly through their territory. It was only another hour or so from there until we left the monster riddled ruins and marched across the hard packed broken desert.

I kept up a merciless pace throughout the day. I was used to the heat and the struggle of the desert, my short companion was not. Perhaps three hours before the sun set we reached the short grasses that marked the beginning of the end of the hard packed desert ground. Another 30 minutes saw the grass up to my knees and the gnomes hips. He was breathing hard and sweating profusely, but still he remained silent and determined. I admired his willpower, if nothing else.

I stopped finally when the grasses began to be dotted with stunted trees. A small half-hearted copse of the diminutive trees provided a little shelter, enough for a small fire and perhaps a wind break. Still silent, I set up a small camp, taking care first to dig a small hole in the ground and stake out the leather funnel I had devised out of rat hide long ago. The hole in the bottom of it would drain the condensation from the dew at night into a waterskin, augmenting my water supply. The gnome was thoroughly confused and amazed at my makeshift invention. I admit, I was rather proud of it myself, having figured it out after several weeks spent trying to determine a way to get the meager water that formed at night into a container.

Then I used my dagger to cut away some of the branches from the hardy little trees around us and between chips of wood and the dry grasses around us, I soon had a small fire going. With that out of the way, I dug into one of my pouches and pulled out some dried meat and set to warming it up over the fire. The gnome looked at it hungrily, alternating from watching the meat cook to watching me.

"What do the villagers say?" I asked at last, pulling the first piece of meat off of the stick I roasted them on and nibbling on it.

The gnome jumped in surprise at the sound of my voice. He had become engrossed in the fire and the meat and had forgotten everything else for the moment. I noticed that he carried three water skins, of which only one still seemed full and another was mostly gone.

"Some say you slew a pack of werewolves, including two boys that were taken from the city," He answered, testing his voice carefully first before speaking. "Others say you are a werewolf yourself, and you slew the rest out of competition. One man said you were something far worse."

I chuckled darkly at that. I wondered then and there why I had ever bothered even trying to reform myself. It seemed that evil was wound tightly with my fate, denying it did me little good. Even when I tried to do good, those around me betrayed my actions. "It may be that the last is true," I said at length.

He stared into the fire and pulled hi knees up to his robed chest. "Did you kill my friends?" His voice was quiet, almost as though he was afraid to hear the answer.

I stared hard at him, even though his eyes refused to meet mine. "Yes."

He shuddered then, and I thought for a moment that he was going to cry. He recovered quickly, but anger replaced his sorrow. "Why?" He demanded, now staring me in the eyes. "We sought you out to deliver a message and a pardon from the King himself! You treat us with such harshness without hearing our business, what sort of evil are you?"

"I am the worst sort of evil," I said, wondering if he could ever understand my twisted meaning behind the words. "I set those traps long ago, to defend my portion of the ruins. Your friends and you wandered into them. They slew your friends before I got to all but the priestess, and she was so near death she begged me to end her suffering after she told me of your mission."

He tried to glare at me longer but the intensity and coldness of my stare finally got to him. He looked away and sniffled back the tears of the loss of his comrades. "Did the others suffer?" He asked finally.

I shook my head, though he did not look at me. "No, death came quickly for all but the priestess, and for her it was as quick as I could make it."

He nodded and looked back at me. "I thank you for that, at least. They deserved better." He sighed and took a drink from his nearly empty skin.

"One of the villagers, the father of the slain boys no less, defended you before the rest of the town. He said that his boys had been bitten and were cursed, you gave them the only peace they could have ever known, and from the looks of the wounds, you did it quickly and with mercy while they slept. He had nothing kind to say of you, mind you, but he at least thought you ought to be treated fairly."

I like to think I kept my surprise off my face. That he, of all of them, would come to my defense was something I had never expected. Perhaps I had judged them to soon. Ah well, what was done was done, my life had moved on.

"And what of you, gnome? Would you run and hide from me or better yet, stick a knife in my throat while I sleep?" He looked surprised at my question. Appalled at the thought of murder even. I was no judge of gnomes and their ages, but this one clearly was a young one to be so naïve as to the nature of the world.

"I return to Elendar, with you I hope. I still have a mission, though only one in my troop survives to accomplish it. I must bring you back, if you will accompany me, or else report that you have chosen to move on," He said with a trace of resignation in his voice.

"What is your name?

"Fizzulthorp Thunderwhistle, at your service." Fizzulthorp stood up and bowed low to me, sweeping off his wide brimmed hat in the process. I almost cracked a smile at the ludicrous site.

"Well Fizzulthorp, this offer your King makes intrigues me. I wish to learn more of it, so I think that I shall indeed return with you on the morrow." He looked relieved at that. I suspect he was glad that he would not have to be the only one to explain all of his dead companions now.

"But know this," I continued, my voice carrying a hint of danger to it, "if I am trifled with, misled, or betrayed, you shall be the first to fall and with every breath in my body I shall strive to make King Avercrombie pay with his own blood."

His eyes widened at my oath. He nodded and leaned closer to the fire for warmth. Words failed us for a few more minutes before he nervously asked, "Do you have any more of that, um… meat?"

"Oh this?" I asked, handing him the piece I had just finished roasting. I pulled out another strip and pierced it with my dagger to roast.

He dug into it hungrily, pausing only after a few bites to taste it. "What sort of meat is this? It tastes odd. Not bad, just odd. Sort of greasy and a little tangy."

I smiled innocently and told him. "Giant rat."

If you have never seen a gnome turn green, then you are missing out on a truly heart warming experience. He managed to keep it down and even finish the piece I had given him, but his appetite had been taken out of him.

I let him keep the first watch then, and woke myself at midnight to relieve him. He was staring off into the desert back towards the ruins with streaks of tears on his cheeks. I silently tapped him on the shoulder and motioned towards the fire. He shook himself out of his reverie and smiled weakly at me by way of thanks. I nodded and took his spot with my back to the fire. I too knew what it was like to have companions taken away. Funny thing was, both my companion and his had been taken away by me. Then again, maybe it was not funny at all.

That thought led me towards other, darker thoughts about James and how he had managed to twist Brina and me around so thoroughly. I still did not know where her heart had lain in all of it, but I suspected more and more as time went by that I had doubly been played the fool. I hoped King Avercrombie would be able to shed some light on things for me. In a black mood I glanced again at Fizzulthorp. I no longer felt sorry for him for his loss of his companions, but instead I pitied him his apparent deep reliance on them in the first place.

Continued in Chapter 4

---