Relics of War

Chapter Thirteen

Garander did not need to worry about rousing Ishta without waking Shella; Ishta was still wide awake and waiting for him when he slipped into the girls’ room.

Fortunately, the baron’s agents were sleeping in the barn; at first Garander had feared one or more might have been stationed in the house, but they had arranged otherwise. Slipping out of his own room in the attic would have been difficult if Hargal or the other soldier, whose name appeared to be Burz, were sleeping on his floor.

He was grateful that their father had taken pains to lay the floorboards straight and tight throughout the house; there were no creaks or pops that might have wakened Shella or his parents as he walked.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Ishta did not hesitate or argue, but slid out of her bed. She hissed, “Turn around,” and Garander obeyed. He heard a rustling, and when he turned back she had doffed her nightgown and put on a thick red woolen tunic.

Garander had simply gone to bed in his clothes, and pulled on his boots before coming to fetch Ishta, but he did not share his attic, while Shella would have noticed if Ishta did not change. He nodded approvingly, then pointed at her feet.

She pulled on slippers; her boots were by the front door. Garander frowned, then turned up a palm and gestured for her to follow him as he headed out into the main room.

Ishta shook her head vigorously, and grabbed his hand. Startled, Garander stopped and stared at her.

She pointed to the window.

“Why?” he asked, with a wary glance at Shella.

“You can see the door from the barn,” Ishta said. “They might be watching.”

Garander paused, considering. He had not thought about that, but she might be right. The baron’s people might well have a guard posted. “Then how do…” he began.

Ishta raised a silencing finger, then pointed at the window. Garander had doubts about whether he would fit through the opening, and what they would find outside it, but Ishta seemed very sure of herself, and definitely had a more successful history of sneaking out than he did, so he followed as she cleared hairbrushes and nail files from the top of the heavy chest of drawers she and Shella shared, then pulled out a drawer of the wooden chest and used it as a step to climb onto the top, where she silently opened the shutter and casement and slid out into the night beyond.

Garander was much heavier than his sister, and held the window frame firmly with both hands as he clambered up onto the chest of drawers, so as not to tip it over. He gained the top without incident, and squeezed through the narrow window.

The drop to the ground was only a few feet, but it was longer than he had expected. He had been unable to see anything clearly and had not noticed that the ground outside the window was still snowy, so he landed badly, his feet sliding out from under him and his shoulders slamming back against the wall. His head struck as well, but not as hard.

“Shhh!” Ishta hissed angrily.

Garander sat up, rubbing his head, and was suddenly aware that he was sitting in muddy snow in his breeches and tunic; his coat was still hanging on its hook by the front door. Suppressing a growl he jumped up, brushing himself off.

“Come on,” Ishta said, and he followed her bright tunic around the corner of the house, down the ditch behind the kitchen, and past the washhouse.

A moment later they were in the woods. It was becoming very obvious that Ishta had done this many times before, and Garander wondered just how much of her activities Ishta had hidden from the rest of the family.

The lesser moon was bright in the eastern sky and a sliver of the greater moon shone in the west, so the darkness was not complete, but Garander still marveled at how his sister could find her way so readily in the dark. Even she surely could not see Tesk’s usual markers in this gloom, though-how did she hope to find the shatra?

And then a hiss from above brought brother and sister to an abrupt halt. Garander stopped in his tracks and looked up into the branches of a big oak, unsure whether he expected to see a bird, or a snake, or some other creature-did mizagars climb trees?

But instead he saw Tesk, squatting on a limb perhaps twenty feet off the ground, his body almost invisible in his black clothing, but his face somehow lit as if it were in full daylight. Something glowed green on one wrist.

“Tesk!” Ishta called happily. “We were looking for you!”

The Northerner seemed to slide sideways. The light vanished from his face and wrist for a moment, and Garander could see nothing but a faint outline, black on black, as the shatra moved down the trunk of the tree, to reappear standing before them. His face was once again illuminated, though Garander still could not see where the light was coming from, and again, a talisman glowed green on his wrist.

“I conclude there is a problem,” he said.

Garander looked at Ishta, but she was looking expectantly at him. He turned back to Tesk. “The baron,” he said.

Tesk seemed to take a second longer than usual before responding. “A local administrator?”

“Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag,” Garander explained. “He claims this land as his.”

Tesk cocked his head slightly. “Which land?”

“All of it,” Garander said, waving an arm. “The forest, our farm-he says it’s all part of his domain.”

“Ah,” Tesk said. “Lord Dakkar. I had not understood your government to operate in this fashion. I thought your father owned the farm.”

“He does,” Ishta said. “He cleared the land himself!” She glanced uncertainly at her brother. “At least, that’s what he says.”

“Our father owns the farm,” Garander confirmed. “He did clear it himself. But the baron collects taxes once a year, and protects the land from…well, from anything dangerous.”

“My mother says that we shouldn’t be paying his taxes,” Ishta said. “She says Lord Edaran of Ethshar is our real overlord.”

“Well…” Garander hesitated, as Tesk, clearly not yet understanding the situation, waited patiently for further explanation. The youth took a deep breath. “That part doesn’t matter. The point is, Lord Dakkar claims to be our ruler, and he heard there was a shatra here, so he sent some of his people to investigate.”

“How did he hear this?”

“Our father told the neighbors about you. The story got to Varag, and the baron heard it.”

Tesk frowned. “This is unfortunate.”

“Yes.”

“This baron sent soldiers?”

“Two soldiers,” Garander agreed. “And a wizard, and a sorcerer.”

“Two?” Tesk held up two fingers. “Only two?”

“They didn’t think there was really a shatra here,” Garander said, almost apologetic. “And he did send his two best magicians.” And quite possibly, Garander thought, his only magicians.

“Yes,” Tesk said. He appeared thoughtful.

“I…we thought you should know.”

“Yes,” Tesk said again. “Thank you.”

For a moment no one spoke; then Ishta asked, “What are you going to do? Will you kill them all?”

Tesk shook his head. “I have no desire to kill anyone.” He seemed to shake himself, like a dog shedding water, then continued, “I was aware there were strangers, but I did not understand their nature. That was why I remained near your home, so that I might intervene if it appeared necessary. But now it appears that perhaps I would do better to go far away. If they are not certain that a shatra is here, then we do not want them to find one. I can retreat to the hills until they abandon their search.”

“No,” Garander said unhappily. “They do know you’re here. They know we spoke with you. The wizard cast a spell that showed them. And the sorcerer says he can find you.”

“An Ethsharitic sorcerer says this? He boasts. But the wizard-I do not know what the wizard can do.”

“Can’t you just tell them you’re nice now?” Ishta asked.

Tesk smiled. “I do not think they would believe me.”

“They wouldn’t,” Garander agreed. “There are too many stories from the war. Now they know you’re here, I don’t think they’ll ever give up on finding you.”

“This wizard-is he very powerful?”

“She,” Garander said. “Her name is Azlia. I don’t know how powerful she is. I don’t think she’s really strong, or she’d be living somewhere like Azrad’s Ethshar, not in a town like Varag.”

“Perhaps,” Tesk acknowledged.

“You could kill them all!” Ishta exclaimed.

Appalled by his sister’s bloodthirsty suggestion, it took a few seconds before Garander could say, “That would just make it worse! Then they’d know he’s dangerous!”

“And they would stay away!” Ishta insisted. “They’d be too afraid to bother you!”

“No,” Tesk said. “They would not.”

“They’d keep sending more and more powerful magic until they killed him,” Garander said. “Wizards, dragons, whatever it takes. They might even be able to get the theurgists to send gods after him.”

“That is correct,” Tesk agreed. “If I killed the baron’s representatives, the baron could not permit me to live. I would be a threat to his authority.”

For a moment none of them spoke; then Garander asked, “Do you really think the sorcerer is wrong when he says he can track you?”

Tesk gave an odd little snort. “I am certain. I was designed to avoid such things! But my creators did not understand wizardry, and I do not know what wizards can do.”

“I don’t know, either,” Garander said, “but maybe you could get away if you went far enough up into the mountains.”

“My homeland lay beyond the mountains. I could return. But it is a wasteland now; I would be alone.”

“You’d be alive.”

“As would the baron’s representatives. Perhaps, if no one is harmed, they will not pursue me.”

Garander, remembering what Hargal had said-“we need to either kill it or drive it away”-nodded. “I don’t know about Lord Dakkar, but his man said he would be satisfied if you were gone, even if you were still alive somewhere out in the wilderness.”

“But I’d never see you again!” Ishta wailed. “You can’t do that!”

“I do not want to,” Tesk said, “but I see no better choice.”

“They might find you anyway! And what about the mizagars?”

“Yes, in time the mizagars would be free to attack your people. My orders can only restrain them for a few months. But if your baron has magicians who can kill me, those magicians can kill mizagars.”

“I’m not sure he does,” Garander said. “But somebody does.”

“No!” Ishta insisted. “You need to stay here and show them you’re nice!”

“I would like to, Ishta,” the shatra said, “but I do not know how.”

“Just…just show them. Talk to them. Be nice to them!”

“I do not know how,” Tesk repeated.

Garander remembered more of his conversation with Lord Dakkar’s agents. “They don’t think you can control your demon side,” he said.

Tesk had been looking down at Ishta. Now he met Garander’s gaze. “Yes?”

“They said that if we could prove you can always control it, we could discuss…well, discuss things further.”

“I control the demon,” Tesk said. “If I had orders and attempted to defy them, perhaps then the demon could not be restrained, but I have no orders. I have had no orders for twenty years, and the demon sleeps. It will not wake unless I allow it.”

“You… What if…” Garander was struggling to express thoughts he had not fully formed.

“Yes?”

“What if we could prove that?”

“How?”

“Suppose someone tried to kill you, and you didn’t kill him?”

“Please explain further.”

“Well,” Garander said, “suppose someone attacks you. They think you would defend yourself by killing your attacker. They probably think the demon wouldn’t let you do anything else. I mean, if there was ever a time the demon would take over, wouldn’t that be it?”

“I can defend myself without killing.”

“Can you…” Garander was still struggling with his own idea. “Can you not even defend yourself?”

Tesk stared at him. “Then I would be killed, would I not? This does not seem useful.”

“No, but-you’re so fast. Could you just…defend yourself, but not fight back?”

“Ah.” Tesk blinked.

“I mean, if anything would show that the demon is under control, and that you don’t have to be dangerous, wouldn’t that do it?”

“Yes!” Ishta shrieked. “We’ll show them he’s safe!”

Tesk’s eyes met Garander’s, and they shared a moment of amusement.

“I do not know if this plan will succeed,” Tesk said. “I think it is worth trying.”

“If it doesn’t work, you can still flee into the mountains,” Garander said. “If you haven’t hurt anyone, they may not think it’s worth chasing you.”

“This is true.”

“Then you don’t have anything to lose!” Ishta said.

“Indeed,” Tesk agreed. “It would appear I do not.”

“Then we’ll arrange a meeting,” Garander said. “Tomorrow afternoon, in the north field?”

Tesk nodded. “I will watch for your arrival,” he said. “Signal me with a raised arm when you are ready to proceed.”

Garander nodded. “I’ll wave,” he said. “And if something goes wrong, I’ll do this, instead.” He patted his thigh. “That will mean you should get away while you can.”

“Understood.”

For a moment the three of them stood, unsure what else needed to be said; then a cold breeze reminded Garander that they were standing out in the woods in the middle of the night, with no coats, and he was freezing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said.

“Tomorrow.” The glow of Tesk’s face abruptly vanished, and a second later the green light on his wrist went out, as well; he was just one more shadow among the many that filled the forest’s darkness. Then, without as much as a rustle, he was gone, and Garander and his sister were standing alone among the trees. Garander shivered.

He liked Tesk, but he had to admit there was something creepy about him-and besides, it was cold. Ishta’s feet must be half frozen in those thin slippers.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back indoors.”

Ishta nodded, and the two of them turned and headed for home.

Clouds had moved across the lesser moon, and the night was even darker than before; Garander found himself stumbling across roots and fallen branches, while he could hear mud sucking at Ishta’s slippers. He wondered how she would hide or explain the inevitable stains once they were safely back in the house.

For that matter, he was sure his own breeches must be stained, and he knew they were wet-the cold was thoroughly uncomfortable.

Then they emerged from the trees behind the washhouse and stepped down into the ditch. A moment later they were below the bedroom window.

For the first time, Garander realized they had left it open. The room must be freezing, with all that cold night air getting in! What if the chill had woken Shella up?

“Give me a boost in,” Ishta said.

Startled, Garander obeyed, but even as he did he wondered how she got back in when he wasn’t with her.

Once Ishta was safely inside he grabbed the window frame and pulled himself up-which was more difficult than he had expected.

“Brace your feet against the wall,” Ishta called down.

“I am!” he whispered back.

A moment later he sprawled awkwardly across the top of the chest of drawers, and barely caught himself before toppling heavily onto the floor. He peered over at the dark lump that was Shella; she did not stir.

“She never wakes up,” Ishta said. “I don’t know why she sleeps so soundly, since she hardly does any work, but she does.”

Garander could not be sure in the darkness, but he thought he saw Shella move, as she had not when he made his clumsy entrance; she seemed to hunch her shoulders. She might, he thought, not be as sound a sleeper as Ishta thought.

But that did not matter. Moving as quietly as he could he closed the casement and the shutter, then slipped out the bedroom door and headed for the attic stair.

Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day, he told himself as he climbed. Once in his room he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled off his muddy boots, hoping he would be able to sleep in such a state of nervous anticipation.

He need not have worried; he had scarcely settled back on his pillow when his eyes closed and slumber overtook him.