Keep on the Borderlands

11

Eddis woke with a start in the gray light of early day. The small sleeping room she ordinarily enjoyed so much all at once felt confining. I dreamed of caves, she thought, and shuddered. She tried to remember anything about the dream but couldn’t except a sense of dread and darkness. Well, it wasn’t dark here and now, but the room was overly warm and stuffy. The wind, if any, wasn’t blowing through the window slit, as it usually did at this hour. After so many nights of sleeping in the open, it was small wonder she’d had bad dreams about close places.

Eddis edged onto one elbow. The door was still barred from the inside and there, on the floor, she could make out a small huddle of blanket just under the window. Blot slept, so far as she could tell.

Gods, she thought in sudden panic. What are we—what am I to do with a child? A half-grown girl who’s been ill-treated by hard men all her life? A child who barely trusted her and was afraid of everyone else except M’Baddah? She sighed quietly. Worse yet, if M’Baddah, M’Whan, and I decide not to go back to guiding, if we take up this new fight…. It’s astonishing she survived so long in a robber’s den. She wouldn’t stand a chance in those caves, but how could we simply leave her here? There are good, honest people here, and they’d do their best by her, but they’d never understand her. All she’d know is that M’Baddah befriended her when we took her away from the only life she ever knew—and then we abandoned her.

At the same time, Eddis knew she wasn’t much of a person to deal with ordinary children, let alone this one. Somehow, she’d managed not to lose patience with the little one’s fears the night before and simply let her sleep on the floor.

“A bed,” she had said, “was not a place for a Blot.”

Eddis gazed down at the still bundle, eyes narrowed as she remembered. “I could kill those men,” she whispered.

The child knew only what those men had told her: Townfolk and such were “nocks,” good only for the money, gems, and grain others could steal from them. She’d protested staying with Eddis and had difficulty understanding when M’Baddah explained that in towns and in houses, women and girls shared private rooms while men all slept together. Eventually, he and Eddis realized the child had no concept of sex. There were only “nocks,” men like the bandits, and Blot. When the outlander had tried to explain that Blot, Eddis, and the merchant’s ransomed lady were all “she,” the girl had stared at him in visible disbelief.

One thing for certain, Eddis decided as she swung her legs to the floor. First thing this morning, before she and Jerdren started butting heads over their “reward,” she and M’Baddah would go buy proper clothing for Blot. We can’t keep calling her Blot. It’s cruel.

A tap on the door brought her back to the moment. It was growing lighter outside the window, and she could hear people moving about. She dragged on breeches and padded barefoot across the little room. Blot came awake with a start as she opened the door. M’Baddah came in, bearing a thick clay pot filled with steaming hot tea and a cloth bag full of warm, spiced rolls. Eddis rummaged in her pack for her cup.

“The taverner gave me leave to brew my own herbs over his fire,” the outlander said. “He also sent along the rolls. Good morning, young friend,” he added with a smile. Blot sat in the midst of her blanket, rubbing her eyes. “Here is food for you, and drink.”

He was quiet and patient, persuading the girl that she had no early duties, that he and Eddis wanted her to eat and drink with them, that she could have as much of both tea and bread as she liked. Two small rolls and a cup of tea later, the girl handed M’Baddah back his cup and sat back against the wall, tugging the blanket over her bare feet.

“She needs something decent to wear, M’Baddah,” Eddis said then.

“I agree.” He settled down next to the child while Eddis ate, telling her what she would see outside and where they would go. “You need clothes of your own,” he said.

She fingered the loose jerkin she wore—M’Whan’s spare, which itself had been bought secondhand.

“But this is nice stuff.” She looked up at him. “Too good for a camp brat, maybe, but big enough, it would last a while. Blot don’t need more.”

Eddis sat back and waited. Her lieutenant was getting further with the girl than she might. It took time, but finally the girl agreed to leave the little room if M’Baddah agreed to stay right with her.

The short journey from the inn into the fountain square was slow. The girl was wary of everything and everyone, though at this early hour, the area was relatively deserted. The market was better. There were things to look at: piles of fruit and bright-colored cloth. Blot hid behind M’Baddah as the stall-holder gave her a kindly smile.

“You buy often enough from me, Eddis,” the old woman said, “and you’ve done us all good service. We’ll see you get a good bargain and proper garments for him.”

Eddis smiled and let the mistake pass. Blot was won over by the woman’s quiet manner, entranced by the clean, colorful jerkins the old woman held against her skinny shoulders to test for fit. Eventually the little girl came away clutching two changes of shirt and trousers, as well as a pair of boots and soft foot-wraps to go under them. She even relaxed enough to walk between the two fighters.

But as they came abreast of the tavern, the clothing was forgotten, a fallen heap at her feet. Blot clung to M’Baddah, her face buried against his chest as men just inside the open doors started a cheer for the new heroes. The outlander moved aside, drawing the girl with him. Eddis scooped up the fallen bundle and followed. Once the noise had faded away, she knelt and laid a gentle hand on Blot’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to go in there. Are you hungry, though?”

A muffled, tearful voice finally said, “Got ’em rolls still. Where us slept.”

“We’ll take you back there, then. Would you like that?” Eddis asked.

Blot nodded, finally easing her grip on M’Baddah’s arms, and took back her bundle and followed the swordswoman.

Once back in the small chamber, Eddis said, “You can bar the door so no one can open it, and you’ll feel safe. But you have to promise to open it for us, when we come back.”

“Promise” took a little explaining. The child finally nodded and rubbed her hand across her eyes and sniffed loudly. Eddis gave her lieutenant a frustrated look.

“M’Baddah, we can’t keep calling her Blot. That’s not a name!”

“What they said I was,” Blot offered sullenly. “My… my friend didn’t never like it. Called me Windflower, but that was only for him and me. He said, rest of ’em’d make fun. Was our secret.”

Eddis sat cross-legged on the floor and beckoned the child close. M’Baddah had turned away to gaze out the open door. She lowered her voice.

“You and I have a secret, too. Know what my name is?”

“Eddis,” Blot said promptly.

The swordswoman shook her head.

“Yes, but when I was a girl, about your size, before I learned to use a sword, my name was Flerys. It means ‘flower’ where I come from.”

Blot looked at her, visibly puzzled.

“See, I didn’t think that was a good name for a swordswoman. So I called myself Eddis. Maybe we could call you Flerys. That would be nicer than Blot.” Silence. “Just… if you think you’d like to be called Flerys.”

“Flerys.” The girl tried it and smiled tentatively.

“It fits you.” Eddis reached cautiously, and to her surprise, the girl let her lightly pat her shoulder. “Now, you can stay here and feel safe while we go back to that tavern. Eat all the rolls if you’re hungry. We’ll bring more later.”

A few moments later, she and M’Baddah walked away from the little chamber, having heard the bar drop into place.

“Gods,” Eddis said feelingly, “I hope she’ll open it again.”

“She will. That was kind of you, my Eddis. Flerys suits her better than it would you.”

Eddis rolled her eyes. “You sneak! I should have known you’d hear all that!”

He laughed quietly and clapped her on the back. “I wondered often what kind of village woman would name a baby girl Eddis. Flerys is a good name, and a proper one for the bright poppy I see in that child. Not ever for my Eddis,” he added.

The sun was well above the Keep walls when Eddis and her second headed back to the tavern. “Jers is probably going mad, waiting for us. Where’s everyone else?”

“Jerdren left the inn when I did, but he went back to the Guild Hall to speak with the master. Blorys went to the chapel to see what aid the curate might provide. Our Keep men are talking to their fellows to see who might come to talk to you and Jerdren this evening. My son is at the provisioner’s, making certain that we will be able to get all the oil and lamps we need—if we do take up this journey.”

“Efficient,” Eddis said. She stopped short as they came up to the tavern doors. Sitting outside, basking in the early sun, were two dwarves. Both wore sleeveless leather tunics, heavy pants, and thick boots, but they were otherwise unclad and unarmed. Eddis could see bruises and half-healed cuts on their bare forearms, and the older-looking of the two was missing most of his right ear. They looked up as the swordswoman drew near and respectfully inclined her head.

“I’m Eddis,” she said. The younger of the two cleared his throat with a deep cough.

“Know who you are,” he said evenly. “And that’s M’Baddah. Everyone in the Keep, even us, knows that.” The older one touched his arm, and he fell silent. “My uncle,” he said with a nod at the older dwarf.

“We were once from the far north,” said the other dwarf. “Most of us got driven out of the mountains though, and some of us went east, but we found little to mine and came back along that road, yonder, a few days ago. Turned out to be a bad choice.” He let his eyes close.

“We’re the last. All our folk—and now just us two,” the younger said bitterly.

“Easy, lad,” the elder said. He looked up at Eddis. “Word has it you and yours may ride out that way soon. Don’t ask us to go. We won’t. Bad that way. Bad luck for us dwarves anyway.”

“You don’t look ready to face it again, and no blame to you,” Eddis said evenly. “But I wouldn’t have asked you to go. If we go, it’s strictly a mission for volunteers.”

“Fools,” the dwarf said.

“Perhaps, but if you could tell us what you saw, show us on the map we have…”

She let the suggestion hang. The younger looked as if he wanted to refuse, but the uncle sighed and nodded.

“Tonight, here?” Eddis asked. Another nod. “We’ll buy—food and ale for you both.”

The dwarf smiled faintly. “Of course you will.” He got carefully to his feet. “Tonight, then.” He let his nephew lead him off in the direction of the barracks. Both dwarves were limping.

Eddis and M’Baddah watched them out of sight. “Should I have offered to pay for the information, M’Baddah?”

“With some dwarves, that would be insult—as if they thought only of coin. If what they tell us is of value, you can offer a small purse, and leave them free to take it or refuse.” He bowed her ahead of him, into the tavern.

There were few people in here at present. The taverner smiled as they passed him, heading for their usual corner. Eddis settled against the far wall, facing the door, and accepted the cup of fresh-squeezed apple and pear juice the barmaid brought her.

“We’ll need lists,” Eddis told M’Baddah as she set her cup aside. “Everyone should be responsible for his own weapons and personal supplies, but we’ll need a central list for some things, and I say we write everything down as we think of it, because there’s going to be too much to remember. Like healing potions—as many as we can get our hands on. And someone besides Mead—if Mead and Willow decide to come—who can use them, or better yet, who can heal more than small wounds. We’ll lose people out there otherwise.”

“You’ve decided to go, then?” her lieutenant asked.

She sighed faintly. “Part of me would rather not. Most of me thinks it’s foolish and dangerous both, and we still don’t even know how much of what we’ve heard is based on fact. Last night, before I fell asleep, I thought I’d find another client, and we’d head back to the realm. But the past days were … some of it was scary, but mostly there wasn’t time for fear. And the bandit camp…” She tugged at her plait. “Planning that, having the plan come out just like we’d hoped… that was exciting. Fighting all those men on rocky, uneven terrain and in the gloom, discovering that I could not only defend myself but really fight. Gods, I sound like Jerdren,” she mumbled.

“No. Like a swordswoman who understands the need to fight, does what she must, and does it well.”

“Maybe.” She shook her head. “But… Blot. Flerys, I mean. If we hadn’t raided that camp, if we hadn’t found her—”

“We did. So there is no use to think on it.”

“No. But I realized just now, when we were talking to those dwarves, there could be prisoners held in the caves. For ransom or—”

“Or by those who like to hurt others. Or for a beasts’ banquet,” her lieutenant finished grimly as she hesitated. “I remind you of this because that is something you must think about Eddis. Can you face such creatures?”

“I… don’t know, but nobody deserves to die like that. I’m afraid right now, but that’s because I don’t know what we’re going to face out there. I’m just not afraid to go looking for it.”

“Hey, that’s great!” Jerdren had come across the room from the direction of the taverner’s counter, a full mug balanced in his hands.

Eddis sighed. Woman, you have got to keep your eyes and ears open, she told herself. This time it was only Jers coming up on your blind side.

“You’re up for it, then?” he asked as he settled across the table from her.

Eddis shrugged. “So far,” she said cautiously. “Keeping in mind what I said last night, about proof of some kind. We need to talk, though.”

“Knew that.” Jerdren took a pull at his ale and smiled. “Why I’m here right now. Same rules as last time, right? You and me giving orders, me not pulling any fast ones on you?”

“Something like that.” She told him about the dwarves. “We need to start writing things down.” She glanced at her lieutenant. M’Baddah had pulled out a flattened tube of paper, a quill missing most of its feather, and a box of dry ink powder. He mixed a little of this with tea from his cup, began stirring it with the quill. “Maps,” she said once the man was ready, “if there are any.”

“There aren’t,” Jerdren said. “I asked everywhere. Best we can do is the one we already have, I guess. I can’t even get a good fix on where the caves are, except somewhere east and near the road. Let’s forget that for the minute, because while we’ve got this corner to ourselves, we need to get it straight about that thief, Kadymus.”

Eddis drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, and brought up a smile. “Fine. We’ll do that. Then we need to talk about the child.”

Jerdren didn’t like it and said as much at some length. “You can’t take some grubby, howling brat into—”

“She howled when we first found her,” Eddis broke in flatly. “Since then, I wager you haven’t heard a sound out of her. She cleans up, same as anyone. We can’t leave her here, though.”

“She will not remain here without us,” M’Baddah said “She will find a way to follow us, if we do leave her.”

“She’s a child!” Jerdren protested. “Children don’t remember things. Leave her here, some nice family, she won’t recall who we are by the time we return. Won’t care, anyway.”

“That’s not so,” Eddis said. “Weren’t you ever a child? Don’t answer that,” she added. “Just… you want this Kadymus? Fine, I’ll agree so long as the girl comes, too.”

“If she insists,” Jerdren said flatly.

“She will, Jers. And if they keep her from following us, she might just throw herself off the walls.”

Jerdren gave her a dubious look, but he finally shrugged and took another drink.

“Maybe Kadymus can teach her things. She might even be useful.”

“Don’t even think about it, Jerdren,” Eddis growled. “That’s another thing. The girl will be our responsibility. That light-fingered creature is all yours.”

Blorys showed up moments later, visibly excited as he strode across the room, which was slowly beginning to fill for midday meal. Blor dropped onto the stool next to his brother, waved away the potboy, and planted his elbows on the table. “There’s a man staying in the chapel, did you know?”

“I heard there was a madman being kept somewhere in there,” Jerdren replied.

“He’s not mad, though you might think so, the way he talks. He’s a mercenary from the east. Speaks Common but not well. If I understand right, he was guiding a company here, and most of ’em were taken from around their campfire late one night. He remembers what sound to me like orcs and gnolls—like spotted dogs but man’s height, two-legged like men, and armed. The curate thought him mad on that count alone. Guess he’s never heard of gnolls.”

“Not supposed to be any this far south,” Jerdren replied.

“I asked the curate if we could send Mead in to try his spells on the fellow and got permission. The elves are there now. With luck, we may get more information out of him, and the curate said he’d find us a priest, if we decide to go.”

“There’s that other priest,” Jerdren said. He wiped foam from his lip. “You know, the one at the inn? Has a couple novices, both under some vow of silence, I guess. But the priest himself—he’s a cheerful sort. Comes here at times to talk with folks, drink and all. I hear he’s been talking lately about going out to smite the wicked, or some such thing.”

Blorys glanced at him. “I don’t think we’d want him with us.”

“Why, Brother? Supposed to be a powerful priest. Seems we might need one of those.”

“I agree we might, but I got the feeling the curate doesn’t trust the man. He’s master of the local house, so I say we’d be wise to listen to him.”

Jerdren considered this. “Maybe. This madman maybe could draw us a map?”

“He has one,” Blorys said. “He wouldn’t let me have it, but maybe Mead can persuade him. From what I saw, it’s much better than what we have now.”

A short while later, Eddis and M’Baddah left to check on the girl and take her food and drink. She still wore M’Whan’s old jerkin, but her new things were spread out across the bed. She had readily opened the door when M’Baddah asked her, but she wouldn’t move beyond the entry.

When Eddis broached the subject of leaving the Keep, Blot—now Flerys—nodded vigorously.

“Good. I go, too—with you.” Her eyes were anxious.

Eddis nodded in turn. “You go with us,” she agreed. The child settled cross-legged on the floor, sniffed cautiously at her bread and cheese, and bit into it, sighed contentedly as she chewed.

A few minutes later, the two fighters walked back to the tavern. “Gods, M’Baddah. If I get her killed…”

“She is safer with us than where she was,” M’Baddah said, “and she is not as helpless as you fear, my Eddis.”

Most of the company, including the elves, now occupied the far corner. Blorys smiled as Eddis got settled.

“The child is doing well?” he asked. She nodded. “Bad news is the madman won’t come here—won’t set foot outside the chapel,” Blorys said. “But … well, Mead can tell you.”

“He is not mad, but he has reason for his fears,” the elf said. “After he was made prisoner, he and the others were moved from one cavern to another. It was always dark, there was always the smell of old death, and each time they were fewer until he was alone. Often he was tortured, but he does not know why, since they asked him no questions. One day, he found himself chained to a wall, and there were two other prisoners. Their guards were hobgoblins. He gave himself up for dead then, but all at once he heard the sound of battle, and men charged into the chamber, led by a huge fellow in black furs and bright armor. The hobgoblins died or fled, the men released the prisoners and started for the outside world. Just as they could see light in the distance, they were attacked. The man was knocked unconscious and woke in a silent, dark corner. He made his way to the road. After many days of walking and hiding, a hunting party from the Keep found him. He sent this.” Mead handed over a much-folded piece of parchment. Someone had drawn a rough map. The lines and writing were very shaky. “The curate says he began that not long after he first came here.”

“Any chance it’s useful?” Eddis asked.

“I think so,” Mead said. “The man is not mad, and though he remembers little of his journey here from the caves, he recalled much of the caves themselves. He also mentioned rumors of a human priest inside the caves who often demanded victims for sacrifice—and something about the undead.” He looked around the table. “I have no magic to turn the undead.”

“No,” Jerdren said, “but a priest would. That man of yours, Eddis—Panev. He said he’d come and gladly. The curate says he’ll do well by us. I talked to Ferec just now. He’s got a man looking for whatever hard information there may be in old Macsen’s records.”

By late that night, he and Eddis had a solid count of twenty to go with them. The dwarves met with them only long enough to eat, answer a few questions, and add to Jerdren’s map of the lands outside the Keep. They left as soon as the meat and beer were gone.

The next few days were busy. Jerdren ran them all through some maneuvers, and they laid in provisions. Eddis made arrangements with the castellan to have emergency supplies of food and other needs ready for them, if they had to come back for such things, and he arranged for horsemen to escort the mounted party as far as a base camp well up the east road, to keep the horses and return every few days, so they could be reprovisioned, and any wounded could be returned to the Keep, if need be.

Finally, there, was nothing left to do except choose a day and hour to set out. Jerdren called a last meeting at the tavern late in the afternoon. Eddis settled as far as possible from Kadymus. The little thief was too smug for her taste, and she still didn’t trust him to keep his fingers to himself.

She and M’Baddah sat against the wall, a wary Flerys between them. She wore sturdy boots and dark pants and shirt. M’Baddah had found a hardened leather vest that would serve her as armor, as well as a shortbow and arrows, and three long throwing knives on a belt, and he’d persuaded her to join him them for target practice. Eddis knew Jerdren was still unhappy about the girl’s presence, but he’d seen the results of the outlander’s lessons: The girl was reasonably accurate with the bow and not afraid to use the knives.

Jerdren brought her attention back to the moment as he clapped his hands to get the party’s attention. “One last meal here tonight, then everyone off for a good night’s sleep—ah, right, Eddis?”

She nodded.

“We’ll leave tomorrow at first light,” he went on. “Wager whatever you like, tomorrow will be a very long day.”

It had been Eddis’ suggestion that they leave so early. “We can come back to cheering crowds, Jerdren. Better we simply go and get this done, don’t you think?”

The company of men who would take care of their horses and bring them supplies led the way out the gate and down the still-shadowed road. Flerys rode behind M’Baddah, one hand clinging to his belt. The rest were strung out along the road.

They stopped an hour later to rest the horses and refill their water bottles. The familiar swampy country went by on their right, and now Eddis could clearly see the mound where lizardmen were said to live. It was far enough away that she couldn’t make out anything else.

Midday came and went. The company halted briefly for food. The air was clear and cool, and there was open ground all around them. Soon after, the ground began to rise and the hills to close in. Before long, the sky was a strip of deep blue, high above, and shadow lay heavily. The road wound down into a ravine, the sides rising steep and crumbly above their heads. Now and again, rock scree slid down toward them, but Eddis saw no sign of anything that might have loosened the slide.

On Jerdren’s suggestion, the company made no more stops but walked the horses to rest them instead. Now the lead and rear guards rode with drawn swords and strung bows, and the elves kept watch on both flanks.

The afternoon dragged slowly on. Either the land was as empty as it appeared, or perhaps the company presented too large a threat for anything to challenge them, but they heard and saw nothing.

An hour before sunset—as best Eddis could tell by the deeper blue of the sky—they halted in a large clearing on the east flank of the road. There had been plenty of travelers here, over time, though the two blackened rings of stone looked long disused. The tattered end of a rope that might have once been a horse picket remained.

Men moved out to find wood, with guards to watch over them, while others went for water, taking the horses with them. By full dark, there were two fires and food, and Jerdren had posted guards all around.

Eddis felt edgy, and Jerdren looked it. He spent most of the dinner hour discussing plans that had already been set back in the Keep, mostly the disposition of the horse guards. Blorys finally murmured something against his ear, and the older man sighed and set his bowl aside.

“All right, we’ll stick with things as we planned ’em. You men ride back tomorrow, and three days past that, come back with spare horses and the provisions. Someone’ll be here to meet you, but if not, you stay the night and go back at first light. Come back three days later.”

The guard knew all this by heart; Eddis could see it in his face. He merely nodded, and Jerdren turned to the next matter—choosing watches for the night.

After that, the men fell silent. With luck, Eddis thought, they’d find the caves somewhere nearby. With better luck, they’d win through, though at the moment, she didn’t feel as confident as she had the night before. Finally, she settled down close to M’Baddah and Flerys, snugged the blanket under her chin, and turned her face from the fire. She was asleep in moments.