Yamara - Book 2 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The countryside had gotten steadily more foreboding as Fizzulthorp and I had gone west. Here a fey looking tree, there a dark cave with an aura of evil around it. Now, three days since my parting from the gnome, I could tell that I journeyed towards a realm in which sunlight and pleasant thoughts had little sway.

The undergrowth of the woods, jungles really, that I traveled through prevented me from taking anything but the most direct paths. Even the runways of deer and smaller woodland creatures were absent, as well as the sounds from birds, squirrels and the like. What the jungle did seem to have was snakes. Spiders as well; the large and unpleasant sort. Some as large as my hand, not counting their spread of their spindly legs. The snakes had a variety of coloring and sizes, and I imagined virtually every one of them possessed poison lethal to young, blond, determined women. Perhaps others as well, but I was more concerned with my own well being.

I drew the hood up on my cloak, hiding my blond hair as best I could. I regretted that I had not taken more time to prepare myself, for I had learned early in my training with the Ossulmere the art of disguise. A properly prepared mixture would leave my hair darkened for days. Alas that I had no such mixture nor time to experiment with the local roots and insects to make one like it.

The trail I was taking joined with others to form a road. Somewhat indistinct at first, it broadened soon enough. I passed a few wagons heading either west or east, as well as people who journeyed both on foot and horse. None paid me any attention, save to avoid running into me in the case of other walkers. They were all likewise cloaked and concealed, minding their own business and wishing others to do the same.

On my fourth and fifth day on my own I noticed that the land had been imperceptibly sloping upwards. Now it did so more noticeably. Then, midway through my fifth day the road peaked. It leveled off briefly before plunging back down. And plunge seemed the correct word, though its angle was not so acute as to cause undue trouble to mounts of draft animals.

The descending road turned into a small rift or valley as the walls rose around it. Gentle slopes turned into more pronounced rocky walls the further the road went. Soon it became obvious that, though the canyon had been natural at one point, it had been widened by tools and manual labor.

Near nightfall the fist leg of my journey was ended. I entered the outskirts of a ramshackle town. It was surrounded on all sides save one by towering cliffs. That one side was equally menacing, however, for it contained a swamp so dark and filled with gloom, even ere the sun had set, that I could feel the vile nature of the things within it.

I quickly found a tavern and ducked into it, hoping to secret myself away in a corner and pick up what information I could learn with the simple art of eavesdropping. Many a thing that should go unsaid can be learned in such a manner, especially when alcohol loosens the tongue of those that know better. Boastful pillow talk is another method of learning privied information, but I would resort to that in only the most desperate of cases, concerning the nature of the townsfolk.

The inhabitants consisted of a varied mix of Havrin and lizardfolk, with a few other unsightly beings tossed in here and there such as orcs, trolls, and ogres. Almost without exception every one of them seemed unwashed and exceptionally dirty. In any other world, for any other person, it would have been a mother's nightmare for her daughter to be in such a place. Fortunately for me, I had no worries about my mother having any such qualms.

The tavern itself was dimly lit. Humanoid races had little need for light, their eyes having long ago adjusted for their nocturnal activities. The humans within made no complaint though, they simply adjusted as well. Besides, the gloom suited either their actions or their moods.

I watched and listened quietly for several minutes from my table, with my back to a wall. It was no corner table, but in a place such as that those were always the first to go. Finally I caught noticed of a man sitting at a table who would glance at me from time to time. A few others sat with him, exchanging words briefly, sometimes an item or a few coins as well. Always the transactions were concealed and well hidden from a casual glance. Mine was never casual.

After a break in the more or less steady stream of people paying him a visit, he looked at me for a relatively long moment before getting up from his table. He approached me slowly, yet with no hesitation. "You're not from around here," he said when he reached my table.

I stared at him blankly. The cowl of my cloak his my features well enough that I knew my expression to be even less readable then it normally is. Inside I cursed, and my right hand, which was under the table, flexed in anticipation of drawing the dagger I had concealed in a special sheath on the inside of my forearm.

"May I?" He inquired, his hand going to the back of a chair. I nodded, wishing that I had been able to get a table closer to the door. Instead all I had nearby as a means of egress was a shuttered window some six feet away.

After seating himself, he reached over slowly towards my face with his hand. His hair was as dark and curly as that of all the other Havrin I had seen thus far, but his skin seemed lighter. His features were not so sharp either. A half-breed, I was certain. No doubt his mother had been a poor helpless human captured by some raiding party and made a slave by his father. Based on my suspicion, I did not know whether I should pity the woman or be disgusted at her inability to at the very least take her own life to escape her slavery.

Then again, was my own past really so different? I sold myself into slavery with the Ornithrym, and simply bided my time and endured until events transpired to change my life. I had not known of a better way. Perhaps his mother was the same way. Stupidity and pacifism are crimes against free will and human nature; a lack of education, however, is merely an absence of opportunity.

I watched his hand approach and I carefully measured my breathing to keep it even. I was being tested, I suspected, though for what and how to properly pass the test was beyond me. Finally the hand was within inches of my face and I was on the verge of slapping it away with the edge of a dagger. Then he stopped. He twisted his wrist a little and brought my attention to what he held in his hand. My gaze had been settled on his eyes, staring into them and showing nothing. Now I realized that I had been stupid and careless yet again. He held between his fingers a small lock of my golden hair that had slipped out of my hood. I waited for him to raise some alarm. At any other time I would have already bolted, but his calm manner kept me foolishly seated, waiting.

"You should keep that out of site," He said, smirking. "Not to many people around here with hair that color. Those that do usually come looking for something, but what finds them is rarely what they are looking for."

I reached up and took my hair from his hand with my own, tucking it back into my hood and out of sight. "What do you want?" I asked, hoping that my hammering heart did not betray me. I was surrounded by enemies, clearly with my head in the lions maw.

"I want to know what a pretty thing like you is doing in an ugly place like this?" He countered.

I sneered and mutter, "Not so pretty."

He shrugged and said with a wry grin. "Look around you, consider the alternatives."

I nearly chuckled at that. This man, be he evil or not, had a sense of humor I could at least appreciate. I had learned that it often a most telling factor about a person is their sense of humor. It is the first and perhaps most important lock on the door to their soul.

"I wish to purchase passage to Emmerdwym," I offered, having already suspected that this smuggler had many hidden agendas, but none so important as serving himself.

He glanced about then looked back at me. He nodded and stood up. "Follow me."

I stayed seated. I was no fool. I had no reason to rush blindly into some trap. For all I knew he was Dagrazt's bosom buddy and therefore leading me into a trap. Or perhaps James had left agents hidden along the way to ensnare me.

When he saw that I had no intention of following him he scowled. "Dammit wench, this is no place for you to be speaking of such things. Half the creatures in here are agents of one power or another, and the other half would simply turn you in hoping for a reward… after having satisfied themselves with you."

"And what of you?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm part of the first half," he said after a short moment of thought.

Honesty in the face of irrefutable fact is no less worthy of suspicion then a lie. Still, my options were limited and if I at least got out of the inn I would have a much better chance of escape, should things turn out as I feared they would. I nodded and stood up to follow him. My hand remained clenched and curled in, with the nearly invisible string around my finger that led back to the hidden sheath on my forearm stretched so taught that it was nearly at the breaking point. When the string broke the dagger hidden with the sheath would slide into my palm with either the aid of gravity or a flick of my wrist. My own invention that had saved me many a time back in my more dubious days. And of course, I had one on each wrist.

The man led me out of the tavern and back into the town. We passed through a few streets when he veered towards a dark alley filled with refuse. I was reminded of my childhood before the coming of the Ornithrym at first. I stopped and said, "No. No allies. I'll not let myself be set up that easily."

He turned and looked at me. "This is no game you play, bitch! My life is at stake merely for not turning you in, and your life is the least of your worries in a place such as this!"

I turned and walked away from him, scanning everything about me even quicker and more acutely then normal. I expected soldiers to burst from every building at any moment, converging upon me. I searched for a way out, but the closest avenue that resembled escape led towards the swamp. Now that night had fallen, it took on an even more ominous look.

A hand grabbed my left elbow, pulling me to a stop. I used the momentum to swing myself around, my dagger sliding into my right hand neatly. Up and across my hand came, slice deeply into and through his throat. I reversed the grip on my knife as soon as the cut was made, preparing to plunge into his chest if he needed further convincing.

He stumbled back a step, his breath exploding out in a surprised grunt. Instead it merely burst out of the rent in his throat,, spattering blood all over me. His hand went to his throat as his face took on a terrified expression. Death was moments away for him, and it was unavoidable.

He reached into his shirt quickly, scrambling desperately for something. I suspected he was up to no good and was determined to turn me in even at the last few moments of his life. I stayed my thrust though, on a sudden twitch of instinct. What if I had made a mistake in killing him?

His hand came out with the last thing I had expected to see. It was a S.E.T. badge, like the one I still possessed. He fiddled around with the clasp on the back of it, his fingers moving erratically as the blood that fed oxygen to his brain was no longer available. He fell to his knees then, but managed to accomplish what he was trying to do. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but felt for the briefest moment a powerful tingling sensation caress my skin. Then it was over. He stayed there kneeling for a moment longer, with his head bent towards the ground.

Then he looked back up at me. His eyes were filled with fury. He stood up, his throat made whole once again, though scarred now, by some magic I did not know existed. He looked around and opened his mouth to speak. A strangled gasp came out, which led to a coughing fit. He spat some blood on the ground a few times then regarded me again. If anything, he looked even angrier.

"Do not try that again!" He said, his voice menacing and raw. He grabbed my arm again and this time, I let him lead me. We moved towards the swamp this time, which surprised me. He still coughed and spat out blood occasionally on our short journey. I kept my dagger at the ready, though I had it partially concealed in my hand by holding the hilt backwards, with the blade tucked up against my wrist.

We arrived at the edge of the swamp, where several small piers stood with skiffs, rafts, and canoes tied to them. He moved down the row, towing me along none to gently, until he reached what I guessed to be his canoe. He pushed me towards it and grunted. I climbed into it and sat down at the far end, my superior dexterity allowing me to balance easily in the unsteady vessel. He climbed in after me and untied it from the dock. Taking up a paddle, he pushed off and began to row us out into the swamp.

My back was facing the front of the canoe at the moment, so I was spared the terrifying view of the vastness of the dark swamp that we were entering. The haunting moss and vines hanging from the trees, as well as the sickly plants and weeds that grew out of the fey looking waters around us. Here and there small islands existed, from whence most of the trees took root, but their shores looked more like quicksand then stable ground.

After several steady minutes of paddling my "guide" put his paddle inside the boat and regarded me. His anger had abated only a little, from the look on his face.

"Who are you?" He asked at last, after obviously discarding several other less polite questions.

I wondered how many more times he could heal a mortal wound. The fact that he had not turned me in to the powers-that-be had not been lost on me, however, and I wondered if perhaps my latent gut instinct to not finish him off earlier may have been right.

"I am looking for something someone took from me," I answered. It always pays to be careful.

"By the Gods! Listen up, wench," he spat out at me, "this is my world you are in now. This swamp here? Nobody knows it like I do! Already we are so far removed from Harthag that without me to guide you back you would never find it. And this swamp? Things live in this swamp that are to be feared far more then anything back in Harthag. Things that would delight in eating your flesh while you still lived. If you want to live through this, then answer my questions!"

I glanced around, noting that as careful as I had been, he was right. I had no idea how to get back to the small village we had just left. Harthag, if I understood him correctly. I nodded to him. "Alright, you can call the shots for now."

He snorted and looked out over the water for a moment. Then he looked back at me. "You are Yamara, aren't you?"

I nodded again. A chill went down my spine though. If this man knew who I was, what other even more unpleasant surprises awaited me.

"I've been waiting for you for well over a year. Earl James sent me word that you would be arriving with the cover story of trying to insinuate yourself into the Dark One's armies. According to him though, you were a traitor and that I should kill you as soon as I saw you."

Suddenly, things began snapping into place. James had not merely been trying to get me out of his hair so he could have his way with Brina, but he had been planning on making certain that I never returned. But at the time he also needed to be sure I did not give away any Elendar's secrets I knew under torture or willingly.

"Why didn't you kill me then?" I asked, reaching for more understanding.

"You never showed up. That meant that either you had been captured already or you had taken a different path," he said. He took up the paddle and began making smooth even strokes once again. "Then I learned about Earl James' disappearance. Shortly thereafter came word of Baron Palungol's sudden rise from obscurity into power. I did some checking and the similarities between Earl James and Baron Palungol are to many to dismiss."

"By the way, I am Evart," he offered.

I nodded but said nothing. I was busy piecing things together.

"What caused James to betray his King?" Evart asked. "It makes no sense, there was never a man more in love with Elendar then he. No man who's loyalty was less questioned. The circumstances involving you at the same time tell me you must know what could have caused this."

"Love is a dangerous thing," I responded, staring over the waters into the gloom. I did not want to meet his gaze right then, for I was dealing with my own confused emotions.

He left me alone for a while, perhaps sensing my need for privacy. Finally I blinked and nodded to myself. My resolve had been reestablished. My will was hardened and my course dedicated once again. "My… sister," I began, stumbling over the words. "James fell in love with her the moment he saw her, I think. Yet we shared a special bond that would not permit him to possess her. He tried again and again to send me out on suicidal missions, yet I returned always. My sister became confused as he spent more time with her and I was gone more. On the eve of the day I was to leave for Mardurin, I had finally determined what James' plans were, and I went to her to plead with her to flee with me from Elendar. Mardurin was the last place I wished to go.

"She was confused then, for James' silvery words had poisoned her thinking much by then. She hesitated and in that moment James burst into the room from a hidden passage he had been using all along to spy upon us. James and I fought then, for he tried then and there to turn my sister against me."

I paused, fighting back a lump in my throat as my mind raced ahead of my words, remembering the event for what must have been the thousandth time, if not more. "I had him beat, and he knew it. He was wounded and could not stop me. He grabbed up my sister then, and held his knife to her throat. He whispered sweet things into her ear and told me to leave. Told me that she would be safe with him only if I were gone.

"She saw then the truth behind things, I think. She and I struck out at him at the same time, but she was too slow in escaping. His knife did its work on her, ruining forever her beautiful life. I…" I had to pause, my voice was caught in my throat as I remembered holding Brina in my arms and seeing her eyes close. After I finally admitted my love for her and watched myself lose her forever.

"I escaped from the palace then, and from Elendar in general." I looked at him squarely, daring him to challenge me. "No pursuit came, and that surprised me. Not until a year later did news reach me that James had escaped. An impossible task, given that I had slain him most surely."

I laughed bitterly then. "Slain him as surely as I had slain you, I suppose!"

Evart cracked a tight lipped smile. "Nearly did, a fine swipe with that dagger, if ever I saw one."

"How did you survive?" I asked, hoping to find out how many more uses that pin had.

"Every S.E.T. badge can be used in such a way once," Evart explained, putting his paddle aside and taking out his badge to show it to me. "There is a sequence of gems on the back of it that when pushed in such a sequence," he showed me the sequence without really thinking about what he was doing, "causes the magic of the item to be released in a healing spell powerful enough to mend a single mortal wound."

"Good thing I did not follow up on it then," I muttered, thinking about how closely I had come to plunging my dagger into his breast after my initial slash.

"Aye!" he nodded, his hand going to the freshly pink scar on his throat.

I thought about my own S.E.T. badge hidden amongst my belongings and wondered if it too would do such a thing for me, should I need it. When I was away from Evart I would have to examine it more carefully to try and determine if it were possible. If it was, then it would be a great magical boon to have with me.

"This sister of yours," he said, his tone cautious, "does she have hair the color of polished Dwarven gold and a beauty so great as to be terrifying?"

I had never thought of Brina that way, but I could see the resemblance. Especially if she had fallen sway to James and his new Dark Lord. I nodded and said, "Perhaps, though never before was her beauty anything but innocent and pure."

"Then yes, Baron Palungol is most assuredly Duke James. And his consort, Mistress Palungol, must be her."

Something inside of me rejoiced. Brina yet lived. Impossible, but somehow it had happened. Then that spark began to die as I realized how she now stood aligned. She was openly James' consort, and therefore, a servant of Dagrazt. A wave of despair crashed over me, threatening to overwhelm me.

I closed my eyes and let my head sag. All of my fears and nightmares from the past year crashed into and over me, like storm laden waves breaking upon a harbor wall. I fought only to remember to keep my head above the proverbial water so that I could breathe.

I looked back up at long last. No single tear had escaped, but the dam had been near to bursting. My eyes were surely red in spite of it. I thanked again the hood on my cloak for shadowing my face from Evart, though he now seemed genuine. Looks tend to deceive, however.

What was not in the least bit deceptive was the spiny ridges moving silently through the water behind us. My eyes widened as I realized it was not merely a submerged log we had avoided but instead the sinuous back of a carnivorous swamp dwelling creature. Before I could open my mouth to warn Evart, the beast burst from the water. It towered over our canoe by eight or nine feet, with the majority of its reptilian body hidden beneath the surface of the swamp.

My dagger, momentarily forgotten, was flying towards the things head. It had opened its many fanged mouth and began a plunge that would result in Evart losing a good portion of his upper torso, had my dagger not pierced its meaty tongue and pinned it to the bottom of its jaw. The fateful lunge aborted, it roared angrily and shook its head ferociously. My dagger went flying out into the swamp, lost forever.

Evart had reacted by this time, and twisted about in his seat to see what threatened him. He cursed and called out to me, "Aim for its eyes!"

Considering the look of its scaly hide, I had already decided to try something just like that. Problem was, I did not want to lose any more of my daggers. Sure, I had a lot of daggers, but where I was going it did not look like I would have much of a chance to replenish the ones I lost. So, I stood up in the canoe and drew my shortsword. That got the critter's attention.

Evart cursed again and scrambled to get out his own weapon, a crude looking broadsword he had stashed in the bottom of the canoe. The swamp thing lunged at me that time, its own blood dripping off its jaw. I did not relish the thought of my blood mingling with it. Evart acted at the best possible time, slamming his broadsword into the slightly less scaly hide of the creatures underside. It distracted the creature enough that I was able to jump out of the canoe and hook one arm around one of the thick spines sticking out of the creatures back.

I swung myself up onto its back, wishing I had some climbing hooks in my boots to help me stay seated on the back of the giant snake-like thing. Below me, I saw that my leap out of the canoe had sent Evart tumbling out of it, as well as capsizing it. I hoped, for his sake, that the swamp was not too deep and that worse creatures did not dwell under the water.

The beast that I rode reared its head back, trying to throw me off of it. I clung to it tightly, refusing to budge from its slimy skin. Realizing it could not be rid of me that way, the overgrown snake plunged into the water, thrashing about and moving through it with a speed that terrified me. I held my breath and clung to it tightly, ignoring the disgusting feel of the muck filled water all around me. Soon enough my exertions to hold on were taking their toll. I was running out of air and still the creature refused to surface. I dared not open my eyes for fear of what the water had in it.

Remembering my sword, I clung to the spine in my left hand tightly and poked about blindly with my shortsword in my right hand. Feeling a soft spot that doubled with a spasm beneath me, I plunged the sword in as deeply as I could. It sank in with few obstructions, almost all the way to the hilt before I felt the tip of my sword grate off bone. Beneath me, the snake spasmed anew, convulsing uncontrollably. It began rolling as well, and I knew that one way or another my place was no longer with it.

I let go and swam desperately away from the dying creature, hoping that I was swimming towards the surface as well. Instead, I crashed headfirst into a tree, stunning myself enough that I let the air burst out of my lungs. I managed to keep from breathing in any water, but had a hard time remembering to surface. Only through blind luck did I happen to nearly be at the surface already. I felt up the tree and grabbed some of the roots, pulling myself up out of the water and only then letting myself breathe.

"Yamara!"

I heard Evart's call only after breathing rapidly for several minutes and trying to recover from my ordeal. I could not make him out in the dark, and instead I clung to the roots of the tree.

"Over here!" I called back, trying not to yell to loudly but hoping it was loud enough for him to find me.

Find me he did, after several more minutes. He clung to the canoe and pushed it as he swam, but it remained upside down. I chuckled at the sight of it and pushed off the tree, helping him steer it towards a muddy island nearby. We managed to make our way through the muck surrounding the island and right the boat. Rather then climbing back into it though, Evart climbed up one of the trees and came back down with several dead and broken off twigs and pieces of moss.

"A fire? Out here?" I asked him, thinking it rather stupid to announce our presence.

"Aye, trust me, you'll soon see why."

I shrugged and let him build the fire. It was a long time in coming, but soon enough it brightened up our makeshift campsite. As soon as Evart was satisfied with the fire, he stood up straight and began to take his clothing off.

"Check me and I will check you," he grunted, pulling a leech off of his chest.

I raised my eyebrows. Modesty had never been a problem for me, but once again I thought it an odd place to risk being virtually defenseless, especially with the fire acting as a beacon to anyone looking for us. Seeing the leeches that were on his well toned body convinced me otherwise, however. Large and ugly, they covered his skin and sucked hungrily at him. I shuddered at the thought of all of them on me. In a matter of seconds I was standing in front of him, naked.

We went to work on each other quickly. I plucked the leeches off of Evart where he could not reach them, including a couple that had secreted themselves in places he probably did not want me sticking my fingers. That made two of us, as far as I was concerned. I was not covered as badly as he was, though that still left me as an all-you-can-eat buffet for the bloodsuckers. Evart returned the favor to me, freeing my back and legs and unmentionable areas. Finished at last Evart opened his mouth to say something the made a face of pure revulsion. His hand went up to his mouth and a few seconds later he was pulling a leach out that had managed to attach itself to the inside of his cheek.

"Gah! Damned things will go anywhere! They especially love getting into whatever opening they can, blood flows better there."

I nodded thoughtfully, it made sense. Fortunately I had never had my mouth open under water so they could not get in there. I noticed Evart glancing thoughtfully at my hips then, and I figured that in spite of recent events, he was behaving like a man again. Then I realized he had a troubled expression on his face, as though he was having a hard time trying to figure out how to say something.

With a jolt of terror, I realized what it was he was trying to say. The leeches tried to get into whatever opening they could. Whatever available orifice. The color drained from my face at the thought of a leech inside of me. My hands flew to myself and I began a very thorough inspection, completely ignoring Evart standing less then four feet away from me looking on expertly. Relieved, I found nothing.

I shook the chills off and regarded Evart again, who was now smirking. I scowled at him and picked up my clothes, going through them to make sure no leeches remained trapped in them.

"I was right, you know," He said, doing the same to his own clothing.

"What?" I asked, not paying him any attention now that I was once again donning my clothing.

"You are a pretty thing."

I scowled at him anew and continued putting my wet clothing back on. The cloak I hung on a branch to dry. Evart did the same and soon we sat by the fire, letting ourselves dry before resuming our trek.

"Well, we can start over again," he said after a shared moment of thoughtful silence. "Now you've managed to kill me and save my life, so you've broke even."

I chuckled. He had a point. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"I thought you needed to go to Emmerdwym?" He asked.

I thought about it. Did I? Was there any point to my quest anymore? Was Brina lost to me forever, or was there still hope? Did I still care enough to try to find out? Ultimately I realized I had chosen my course already, I had to see it through.

"I stay my course," I said to myself as much as Evart. "If it is too late for Brina, then it is not too late for James."

"Not to late? For what?" Evart asked, surprised at my statement.

"Not to late to make sure he stays dead this time."

He widened his eyes then nodded. I did not really care what he thought, but I was pleased anyhow that he saw my goal and agreed.

Evart tossed a fresh log in the fire and said, "At first light, we leave for Emerdwym."

Continued in Chapter 7

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