The Destroyer (5 page)

"If this turns bad, run behind Greykin and protect Jess," she whispered. I glanced down at the little travel knife Grandfather had given me. Fear turned into terror.

After what seemed like an eternity, Iarin returned. He pointed at Nadea and beckoned, and then he gave the stay put command to Greykin, Jessmei, and me. Nadea crawled forward across the path and through the trees after him.

I used to be able to ignore girls. The thought of kissing one made me gag. I never understood why any man wanted to be joined for the rest of his life. Now, I couldn’t help but stare in wonder at Nadea’s leather clad backside as she shimmied through the dirt path and walls of green plants.

After another eternity, they came back and motioned for us to follow. I found myself breathing a huge gasp of relief when I saw that they were both okay.

"It looks like this is their main camp. He has killed them all. It's pretty gruesome." Nadea looked at me and then Jessmei. "If you want to wait here--"

"No!" we both said at once. "I'm the only one who can speak to him," I finished.

Nadea nodded and she turned to walk back down the path, through the trees, and into the clearing. I followed her and heard Greykin and Jessmei behind me. The jungle was dense for another ten paces, and then we emerged into the campsite.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the glare and the brightness of the clearing. The sun was at its peak overhead and beat down on us mercilessly. The clearing was larger than I expected, a rough oval shape encompassing five big tents, a large fire pit, latrines, and a makeshift stable holding ten horses.

In the middle of a group of horses, petting and cooing at them, was the strange man. The animals seemed completely at ease around him, despite the massive carnage in the camp. The man had a small dash of red over the chest of his robe, but appeared otherwise untouched by the slaughter he had wrought.

Bodies decorated the campsite like broken toys in a playroom. I counted ten with a glance and guessed there were more behind or inside tents. Some were armed like the soldiers we encountered earlier. A few appeared to be mere servants and packers. They were all brutally slain, and I felt my stomach begin to roll and tumble as I took in the cleaved up bodies and pools of blood. I didn't know anything of combat besides what I had read in books or seen on the trip down here when we encountered a small group of highwaymen. I was surprised that the thin man didn’t have more blood on his body or clothing.

"This is horrible," Jessmei said in shock. "Did he kill all of them? Even the servants? Why would he kill servants?" The Princess of Nia probably hadn't even seen blood before and must have been terrified.

"I stand by my earlier decision. You have made a terrible mistake. This man is going to ruin us all. He is as crazy as a sober man on the King's Birthday. Look at him over there kissing those horses, like he doesn't even notice the bodies." Greykin was practically spitting at Nadea. Her almond shaped eyes narrowed at the big man. The power of her beauty struck my chest and drove out the feelings of fear.

"Let's go talk to him Paug," Nadea said as she touched my arm. I was afraid to move, but the second tug from her strong hand forced me.

He didn't notice us approach. His attention was focused on the largest animal of the group and his coo-like whispers were a stark contrast to the bloodshed around us. The animal nuzzled him appreciatively, as if it understood his words.

"Hello," I conjured as much bravado in my voice as I could.

"I like horses," he said as he looked at me. His wild, shaggy beard went down past his chest and to his stomach, yet I saw the huge smile of white teeth beneath the dark hair.

"Horses are nice." I tried to remember the words. He looked puzzled for a second and then nodded as he looked away from me and started to inspect each horse's shoes.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked Nadea. Greykin and Jessmei approached now that it appeared that the man wasn't going to kill us. Iarin disappeared into one of the tents.

"Ask him if he killed these men."

I reached for my book. I thought I knew how to say the words, but his accent and pronunciation was altered. Finally, I croaked it out.

"Yes," he said, and nodded as he moved to the next horse.

"Ask him why," Nadea pressed. I asked him.

"They were going to kill us. I kill them first," he said. At that point he seemed to realize that we were upset. He stopped caressing one of the horses, a large black one, and looked between Nadea and me.

"Why? I wrong? No kill?" He did seem concerned. I translated for everyone.

"Hey. I had this guy all wrong. Anyone who wants to kill Vanlourn soldiers because he thinks, rightfully so, that they want to kill us, is okay with me!" Greykin let out a deep laugh. The man frowned for a second but he smiled when he realized that the Old Bear was pleased.

"We go home?" the man asked me with an eyebrow raised. "Take horses? I like them."

I nodded.

"He likes horses. He wants to go back with us, and asked to take them," I told Nadea.

"Perfect!" she said with enthusiasm. "This will be easier than I expected. I thought he might run away. Can you ask him why he left? Also, ask if he knows he killed servants."

I was getting better at the translations. He moved away from the horses toward us as he answered our questions. I found myself shuffling back away from his advancing walk and I noticed that the two women and big axe man retreated as well.

"He said that he intended to find us after he got some clothes. He believed that their base camp was nearby because they didn't carry rations or a lot of water. He said that he didn't realize they were servants but it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway. He didn't want anyone to report our presence." I noticed the man study my mouth as I spoke. Once I finished he looked at Nadea. She nodded instead of saying anything.

"Okay. Ask him if he can find some clothes that will fit him. Our own horses are a few hours walk north of here."

He nodded as I relayed the message.

The man began to walk around the camp, ducking into tents and emerging with sacks or chests, then dumping them in the middle of the camp without opening them. During all the commotion Iarin emerged from the first tent with some packs and he put them on the pile.

"We should bury the bodies,” Nadea said, as she took a shovel from the heap.

"Burn them. Put their weapons, boots, and any armor that isn't damaged in a separate pile first," the man commanded me. I translated to Nadea.

"There might be more of them in the jungle. They will see the smoke and attack us," Nadea asked me to translate.

"Let them come. We might as well kill all of them," the man said, without looking at her. He had discovered a shaving mirror, razor, and other tools in a small pack.

"No. We aren't going to burn them. We don't need the heat, or the smoke, or the possibility of it attracting more attention," I translated to the man, worried that Nadea would argue with him like she often did with Greykin.

The strange man didn’t seem to care anymore about the conversation. He was looking at himself with the small shaving mirror. He stared in amazement as he slowly touched his face and beard. We looked at him and then at each other. The tension rose between us as we anticipated some sort of breakdown.

"Paug, hot water," he said, as he set the mirror down and inspected the shaving razor. The fire in the center of the camp was still bright with embers. I spotted various piles of wood and pots nearby. I added some twigs, larger pieces of wood, and blew on the fire to get it going again.

"What are you doing?" Nadea asked, as I prepared the flame.

"He wants hot water. I think he wants to shave." I looked over my shoulder at the man and saw him examining a pair of hair shears. He put them up to his face and began to awkwardly cut his beard shorter. Before he could get a second snip in, Iarin stepped near him and offered his hand. The man flipped the shears over and placed them in Iarin's palm.

Iarin went to work, cutting the man's beard as close as he dared with the shears. I poured a water skin into one of the pots and set it by the fire to heat.

"If they aren't going to burn or bury the bodies, ask Nadea and Greykin to gather weapons," the man said. Nadea and Greykin turned to look back at me with questions on their faces when they heard their names. We had all been watching Iarin trim the man's beard with a strange fascination.

"He wants you to gather weapons from the bodies," I said.

"Let's do it," Nadea said as she moved to a corpse. Greykin grunted and joined her.

After a few minutes the man's beard was uniformly trimmed an inch from his face.

"Ask him to cut my hair please." The man tugged on his long mane. I didn't need to translate, Iarin got the point and then moved back and began cutting.

"Let me do that," Jessmei said as she stood up from a rock where she had perched. "I used to cut my brother's hair and sometimes cut my handmaiden’s when they wished."

"Don't get near him!" Greykin shouted as he turned from his task. "We still have no idea what he is capable of."

"Actually, we have a pretty good idea of what he is capable of," Iarin said with a laugh. "If he wanted to kill her, or any of us he would have done it by now. He wants to go with us. Besides, if the princess cuts his hair, maybe he will be less likely to want to hurt her."

"Don't worry Greykin. He won't hurt me. Iarin is right, he would have already if he wanted. Even you could not stop him," Jessmei said.

"Bullshit I couldn't stop him! I am Captain of the Royal Household Guard. I've been in more borderland skirmishes, onslaughts, and raids than any other man in this kingdom. I swore a blood oath to your father that I would protect his line when I was younger than you. And I've been living with that task for the last fifty years. I don't care if this man is who you all think he is. If he harms a hair on your head, I will rip his head from his shoulders and drink the blood that gushes from his neck."

Jessmei froze mid-step like a caught rabbit. Everyone seemed surprised by the big man's sudden outburst. The princess looked back at her protector and seemed about to burst into tears.

"No kill. No hurt," the man said as he smiled at Greykin and waved across the fire pit.

"Did he just speak our language?" Nadea said in amazement.

"He has been listening to how I have been translating." I tried not to smile.

"Is the water warm?" the man asked me.

"Almost." He looked confused. "Soon," I said instead, and he nodded. Jessmei ran her fingers through his tangled hair in an attempt to smooth it out.

"Is there a comb in that pile?" Jessmei asked. The man bent down and pulled out a large bone comb and handed it over his shoulder to her.

"Tell him to sit down. He is too tall," Jessmei asked me to translate but the man sunk down smoothly and kneeled on the dirt. It was a weird position, balancing on his shins and the balls of his feet, but he didn't seem to be in pain.

"I think he is able to understand us. Is that possible?" Nadea asked me. She threw some sheathed swords, crossbows, and daggers into a pile.

"I don't know. It seems that the Ancient language and ours have a few things in common. But theirs is more complicated. Our language is subject, verb, and then object. So we would say: 'I am drinking water.' The Ancient language has a different order depending on if it is the past, present, or future tense. The alphabet and sounds are also more complicated. There are forty more sounds their language makes. And it looks like I got most of them wrong."

"You're doing fine, Paug. You got him to want to come with us!" Nadea couldn't hide her excitement. Both she and her father believed that the O'Baarni would help us against the Ancient race. The legends said that the O'Baarni nearly annihilated all life on our world, but Nadea had found proof that someone, or some group, had changed the documented history. It was probably an easy task, considering that the Ancients lived over two thousand years ago and most of their art, writing, and creations were destroyed.

We sat back around the fire and watched Jessmei cut the man's hair.

"How short do you think he wants it?" she asked as she combed and cut small pieces of thick hair.

"As short. I am not allowed to have long hair," the man said to me as I finished translating. I looked at him in confusion and saw his expression looked lost. He was remembering something.

"He wants it short," I told Jessmei. She nodded and cut larger pieces off of his wild mane. Her hands did seem to know their way around shears and hair.

After ten minutes she had cut off most of the long hair and began working around his ears. The dark cuttings fell over his gray robe and face like discarded autumn leaves. I realized that I hadn't checked on the water in a while. It was almost boiling, so I moved it away from the fire. The man saw me move the water and nodded.

Jessmei moved in front of the man and appraised her work, brushing the tips of her fingers over his face to dust off hair, and running the comb through the top to make sure it lay evenly. The man glanced at her before staring into the fire. I looked over at Greykin, surprised that he hadn't given a yell of outrage at her being so close. Nadea had finished gathering the weapons around us and stood with her arms crossed over her chest. A look of annoyance was plain on her face but I couldn't guess why.

"I think that looks great!" Jessmei said, and I agreed. His hair was a few inches long on all sides, more organized, and he looked less like a crazy beggar. He motioned for me to bring the pot closer as he grabbed the razor and a piece of soap.

"I never thought it was that interesting to watch a man shave, but I am enthralled," Iarin murmured as he sat next to me. The O’Baarni splashed warm water on his face from the bucket, dunked the soap in, and then worked a lather with it on his face. Then he began to shave with the mirror in his right hand and the razor in his left.

After a few minutes he finished cutting the beard and set down the mirror and blade. He splashed his face with water to remove the soap and the hair. Then he raised the mirror again and studied himself. I could not guess if he was handsome or not. It looked like he might be two days from death through starvation, a skeleton covered in translucent bleached paper, with dark violet lines running down his neck and face. The veins were so apparent through his gaunt skin that I almost believed that they were on the outside of his body.