Tales of the Apprentice - Book 1
Chapter 6
"We must be careful," Serana told Raven the following morning. "We have several more days to travel, and during the daylight hours we should be fairly safe. At night, though, we must make sure to have a fire and a few torches burning at all times. I wish we could take some of these lamps with us, but they're larger than what we can conveniently carry, and we didn't bring a pack horse."
Raven gave her a long, speculative look.
"Is there anything I should know about, my lady?" he inquired politely.
"Let's just say that the creatures you heard about are real. Light will keep them at bay, though."
"You are sure of this? If I may ask, how can you be?"
"That is my business," Serana said coolly. "But rest assured it's true."
Raven shrugged.
"Very well, my lady. I will go and find us some torches. And perhaps a saddle for your horse, if I happen to come across one."
Serana smiled.
"That would be nice. But don't spend too much time looking for one. I'm fine without it."
Raven nodded and left. Galen continued to gather their belongings and pack them into the bundles they had been carrying on the backs of their horses. He was feeling tired. He had slept rather fitfully, and visions of the dead-looking creatures had haunted his dreams until morning. His eyes felt gritty.
"Are you sure we'll be safe?" he asked. "I mean, after what we saw last night..."
"As safe as we can be," Serana said. "Traveling through these parts is always somewhat risky even at the best of times, and this is certainly not the best of times. But Raven seems to be quite capable, and between the three of us we should be able to take whatever measures might be necessary."
A few minutes later Raven returned, carrying a bundle of long, straight faggots.
"These should do," he said. "I also found a jar of pitch and a bundle of rope. We can distribute them among us, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem to add them to the packs we already have. Oh, and I've found you a saddle, my lady."
"Not one of these silly side-saddle things intended for a demure lady, I hope?" Serana asked with a smile.
Raven shook his head as he put the faggots down next to the door.
"Just a regular saddle, my lady," he said. "I hope that's alright."
Serana nodded.
"That will do very nicely, Raven. I was never much of a lady anyway."
"You are to me, my lady," the mercenary said, nodding respectfully.
Galen gave him a speculative look. He couldn't have explained it if his life had depended on it, but suddenly he was convinced that there was considerably more to this muscular man than met the eye, something that went far beyond the bravo-for-hire he appeared to be. Whatever it might be, though, the future would have to reveal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Serana's expression change. Clearly she had picked up on his sudden realization. Then she deliberately looked away. Galen took her hint. Whatever it was, this was obviously not the moment to discuss it.
It wasn't much later when they rode out of the village, but not before Serana had left a few coins on the table in the dining room in case the owner of the inn would ever return. Galen agreed wholeheartedly. Somehow, on a deeply instinctive level, it was clear to him that taking advantage of anyone would be a bad thing to do for him. He had come to realize, albeit without being able to explain how, that there was something inherently pure about sex magic, something that depended on doing the right thing whenever possible, something that had to do with the eternal dichotomy between good and evil, between light and dark, between life and death. He couldn't have put it into so many words, but he felt he did understand at least the principle of it. He also realized that what he was doing right now was slowly changing him: he was growing, maturing, perhaps even becoming a better person. Serana caught his eye, smiled at him and slowly nodded. Suddenly Galen felt a lot less sure of himself. Had she known what he was thinking?
The sun was shining brightly as they continued south. The sky was blue, the air was clear, and there was no sign of the dreadful creatures that had stood gazing at the village last night, hungering and slavering. Yet Galen felt his skin crawl when they passed the place where he had seen them. Fortunately, not a single trace of them remained.
The land was flat and the riding easy, and the horses made short work of the few leagues between the outskirts of the village and the edge of the forest. Then, as they got closer to the edge of the wood, the head of a narrow trail became visible between the trees. A logging trail? Or simply the only road through the forest? Galen couldn't decide. The trees were standing close together, and the gloom between them deepened as he gazed further into the forest. As they reached the edge of it, Raven reined in his horse and loosened his huge sword in its scabbard as he eyed the dark mass of wood.
"We must be on our guard here," he announced. "These woods are home to all manners of robbers and cutthroats."
Slowly and carefully they rode down the trail, single file. It wasn't much of a road, and it wound its way around trees of varying thickness. But there were some signs of regular maintenance here and there, usually in the form of stumps or hacked-off branches where obstructions had been cleared away. The narrow path stretched before them as far as the eye could see, which wasn't all that far in the gloom beneath the trees.
"Does this path actually lead somewhere?" Galen asked skeptically.
Raven nodded.
"It goes all the way to the other side of the woods," he said. "It is mostly used by woodcutters, though. Not many others venture here."
"Why not?"
Raven looked to his left and pointed at a heap of what looked like a small heap of green, moss-covered branches.
"That's why not," he said.
Galen looked, and suddenly he could make out the vacant-eyed shape of a skull within the mossy pile. Then he saw that the branches weren't branches at all. Instead he was looking at a pile of bones.
"In a place like this it is easy to waylay an unwary traveler," he explained.
"It's a good thing we're wary, then," Galen said dryly.
Raven's smile was bleak.
"Indeed we are. Fear not, lad. I've been this way before."
They slowly made their way along the trail. One hour, two hours, three, four... Time seemed to stand still in this perpetual gloom. The light hardly changed as the day wore on. Nothing moved. There was no breeze to stir the still air. A faint haze blurred the shapes of the trees in the distance, and the atmosphere, while not really cold, was clammy and oppressive. No birds sang in the trees, there were no insects, and nothing seemed to burrow between the many tangled roots.
"This is like no other forest I've ever seen," Galen remarked.
Serana sighed.
"It wasn't always like this," she said softly. "But it's changed."
"Oh? So what changed it?"
"I can't be entirely sure yet," she said. "But I've got a pretty good idea. And I think you do, too."
"You mean..."
She nodded.
"There are too many different things going on at the same time right now for all of that to be a coincidence. I can't be certain, of course. Not yet. But chances are that it's all related somehow."
Suddenly Raven ducked sideways in his saddle as an arrow flew out of the gloom and shot past his shoulder to bury itself in a nearby tree. In one swift, flowing move the mercenary was off his horse, and he seemed to be running even before his feet touched the ground. Drawing his sword as he went, he ran in the direction the arrow had come from. Between the trees the silhouette of a man was just visible as he reached over his shoulder to draw another arrow from his quiver. Before he could nock it, though, Raven closed the distance between them, and his great sword rose and fell. There were shouts from several different voices in the distance. The man bent double and fell to the ground. Raven turned and deliberately stalked off into the haze and the gloom, heading into the directions from which the voices had come.
There was silence for a few moments, then the sound of more voices could be heard, followed by the ringing of steel on steel. The shouts became cries of pain; then they began to die down one by one. A minute or two later Raven emerged from the gloom, holding his sword and breathing heavily. He was bleeding from a small cut in his left arm, and his sword showed signs of recent use.
"Are you alright?" Galen asked.
Ravel nodded bleakly.
"It's nothing."
He took a piece of cloth from the bundle strapped in front of his saddle and tore it in half. With one part he bandaged the cut on his arm, using his teeth to tie the knot. When he was done he used the other bit of cloth to clean his sword. Then he looked up. His smile was grim.
"They were untrained," he explained. "Just half a dozen ruffians who thought to surprise some travelers. They weren't expecting any resistance. And my style confuses them."
"Your style?" Galen asked.
"The way I handle my sword. It's a very old technique. Few swordsmen today are familiar with it. Shall we move on?"
Raven remounted his horse and led them on down the narrow path. Galen looked thoughtfully at the mercenary riding ahead of them. His earlier feeling that there was much, much more to this enigmatic man than was immediately apparent was quickly growing stronger. When they passed the place where the cries had come from, Galen could just make out three or four bodies lying on the ground between the trees. One of them was moving feebly, the others were still.
The encounter wasn't the only one that day. The light had already begun to fade when, suddenly, three men were standing on the trail ahead of them, brandishing rusty swords. They looked unkempt, with long hair, long beards and soiled clothing. Without hesitating even for a fraction of a second, Raven spurred his horse on to a gallop and rode one of the men down, then wheeled his heavy mount to attack the ones still standing. His sword, drawn as he rode, moved swiftly and surely. The robbers, on the other hand, were less skilled and mainly resorted to a lot of shouting while waving their swords in the air and hacking wildly. The outcome was fairly predictable.
"It appears you have earned your pay today," Serana remarked with approval as they rode on. "But first we need to find a place to spend the night. If memory serves, there should be a small clearing off to the side, not too far ahead."
Raven gave her a surprised look.
"You have been here before?" he asked.
Serana nodded.
"Yes. It's been a quite while, though. But the clearing should still be there. Things may have changed around here, but not that much."
"I believe I know it," Raven said, glancing up at the faltering light with a strangely sad look in his eyes. "It's the only one around, as far as I know, so we don't have all that much of a choice. It's not perfect, but it will serve. We can make it there just before dark if we press on."
The gloom continued to deepen, until finally the trail descended into a small valley. Raven led them off to the side of the path where the trees were less dense. The ground continued to slope down and the light gradually improved somewhat as the forest grew thinner. Eventually it gave way to a small open area bordered by a few stunted brushes and a handful of runty saplings. The undergrowth was sparse and looked unhealthy. Galen looked at it and didn't like it. He said so.
"It's not ideal," Serana admitted. "But it will do."
