The Staff of Naught (29 page)

“Do you think she could have managed this without help?” asked Lousa who took a long sip from the skin herself and then handed it back to the burly warrior.

He shook his head and then knelt down on the ground, felt the grass, and inhaled deeply through his nose. “Girl helped but not dead creature,” he said after a moment, then pointed forward, and began to walk again.

Almara leaned out from the wagon seat to where Unerus, Tylan, and Ariana were walking along and shouted out, “Ara, why don’t you and Tylan get out those leftover biscuits and gather some of the nuts and berries to give to everyone as we walk. I don’t want to stop for lunch.”

Ariana looked up at the woman her eyes all but filled with tears and nodded her head, as did Tylan while Unerus turned to walk up ahead with Shamki.

Tylan helped the gaped tooth girl up into the wagon with a hand and then clambered aboard himself.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to Shalalee,” said Ariana and looked at Tylan while her lip quivered. “I just was made that she stole it.”

“Everyone knows that Ara,” said the boy with a smile and he leaned down to pull a sack out from underneath a bench and poured a large pile of nuts out into a bowl. “Get the berries there under the shelf, that’s right,” he directed Ariana who began to pour a bunch of small dried out blueberries and mulberries onto a plate. “Now, we’ll mix them up and give them to everyone,” said Tylan with a smile and patted Ariana on the shoulder. “We have to figure out what everyone wants to drink, what do you think?”

“Shamki want beer,” said the girl in a deep voice and began to giggle her eyes cheerful for the first time in many hours. Tylan laughed as well, “I’ll have some of that light cider,” he said in a high pitched voice that sounded eerily like his mother and the girl snorted out loud before covering her mouth in a fit of laughter.

It was almost nightfall and Shalalee staggered along in a weaving sort of way as she collapsed to the ground every once in a while and struggled to stand again, “I can’t go much more,” she gasped at the air. “Where is the horse?” she said and stared at the darkening sky and then looked behind her to where she saw the wagon about an hour ago. She had just crested a long hill when she saw the flash of light glint off of something and after a moment she could make out the slow moving wagon in the distance. At least, she thought it was the wagon, what else could it be that followed her along the plains? Unless it was some hobgoblin traders but she didn’t think that was the case. She tried to go faster then but her legs just wouldn’t move and the increased speed meant more falls each one of which proved more difficult from which to recover.

The voice hadn’t answered her in hours and she was terribly afraid of being alone all night long. It was only last night, although it felt like years ago, that she thought it such a good idea to the take the staff and bring it to Seymour. Now, as darkness slowly descended she began to regret her hasty decision. “I could always go back,” she thought to herself. “They would be mad but they would understand. All but that awful Ariana.”

She managed to stagger to her feet again and began to walk slowly forward and looked for the horse with tears streaming down her eyes.

“We should check in with the girl,” said Sutekha as the same night that threatened her forced the foursome to stop for the evening as well. Oliver trotted next to them all day but he did not appear to be in the least tired as they finally came to a stop. The orc appeared to have the stamina of a distance runner and the power of a stallion in heat and the wizard of the Golden Worm’s mind once again began to ponder how he would manage to get out of his current situation alive. He knew that Seymour was prone to bluster but if the priest intended to have Oliver do his dirty work there didn’t seem to be much of a chance for survival.

“I’m hardly tired at all,” said Seymour as he glanced at the fading light.

“She is not more than twelve years old, alone, on foot, and scared,” said Levicus with a sharp look at the Priest of Ras. “You can’t expect her to keep going at the same pace we enjoy. She might turn back and take the staff with her. Sutekha is right, the horse won’t get there until morning, and she must be convinced to keep going. The others are likely in pursuit and she cannot hope to outpace them.”

“If you insist,” said Seymour and dismounted from his beautiful steed. “Contact the girl and give her whatever encouragement she needs but keep her moving, through the night if necessary. We will have to kill her in the end as she is tainted by the staff so walking her to death is nothing to worry about.”

“Dovestar has no hands,” said Levicus in a quiet sort of voice. “If the girl dies before he reaches her then he will not be able to bring the thing back to us.”

Seymour looked at the dark haired horse master for a moment and smiled. “Quite true,” he finally said. “Sutekha, determine the physical condition of the girl and if it seems likely she is going to die then allow her to rest for a short time.”

“Oh great Master of the Icon of Ras,” said Sutekha with a deep bow. “The girl is exhausted and near the end of her abilities right now. If pushed further she will collapse at least, if not die.”

“Very well,” said Seymour with a sad little shake of his head. “We must allow the weak Dorian her precious rest but if this delay causes any disruption to my plan horse master, you will certainly bear the brunt of my displeasure.”

“Yes, oh Mighty High Priest,” said Levicus bowing deeply. “I only live to serve your desires.”

The woman with the voluptuous figure stood up from the long bed and slipped a silk shirt over her dull blue skin and smiled at the demonic figure lying behind her. “Thank you my darling, if your services are required again I will send word,” and with that she walked to a large stone door where another man, similar in stature to the one on the bed although two horns sprouted from either side of his head instead of a single prong in the middle. He opened the door for her as she ran her fingers over his well-developed chest and walked past. Beyond the bedchamber stood a massive throne made of bones and she walked over to this in a languorous fashion and sat down with crossed legs that displayed well up her thigh.

A ghoulish creature made of muscle and bone but no skin walked wetly across the marble floor and knelt in front of the woman, “Mistress of the Abyss, Eternal Ruler of the Dead,” he said his face hovered inches from the floor.

“Go on creature,” said the woman with a little wave of her right hand.

“Tenebrous has yet to return and I am informed there is an easy opportunity to obtain the bauble,” said the undead thing, as he remained bowed and low to the floor.

“I’ll send that shade back to the Deathlands,” said the woman. “Why are you standing here telling me this? Show some initiative and take it. Bring it back to me and I shall reward you properly.”

“Yes, oh Great Mistress of the Deathly World,” said the creature and slowly stood up and backed out of the room.

The woman smiled broadly and the thought of having the staff and the anger this would generate in her step-sister. “The eight legged witch will have to come crawling to me if she wants it, how delightfully ironic to use her own little toy against her.”

Shalalee lay collapsed on the grassy ground her closed eyes revealed by the light of a few stars that peeked out from the still cloudy night sky. Half a mile behind her stood the small graveyard she staggered through an hour before the Staff of Naught clutched in her right hand. Now slow movement under the one of the gravestones disturbed the soil and a moment later a skeletal hand emerged from the ground and began to scrabble about. A few seconds later the lower half of an arm bone, eerily similar in appearance to the staff emerged, and similar movement from nearby graves heralded the emergence of more of the monstrosities. After a few minutes of scrabbling and scratching half a dozen of the skeletal creatures stood on the surface of the graveyard, their white bones reflected the meager light from the stars high above. As if a single creature they all suddenly turned and faced in the same direction and began to walk in a disjointed sort of way towards where the girl lay asleep.

“No track good,” said Shamki as the cloud cover began to increase and the already limited light from the stars faded to almost nothing.

“She’s been headed in a straight line all day,” said Tanner as he stood next to the half-orc with Lousa also at their side. Almara still sat in the driver’s seat of the wagon but her posture drooped and her head nodded for a moment. Unseen and asleep in the back were the children, Hazlebub, and Humbort tired from the exertions of the long day. “Why don’t we just keep going in the same direction?”

Lousa looked at Tanner. “She’s your daughter,” said the woman, put her hands on her knees, and bent forward. “I don’t like the idea of leaving her out alone overnight either but if she makes a turn it will take us longer to catch her tomorrow.”

Shamki stood in silence as the merchant looked out into the darkness for a long moment and then turned back to the donkeys and began to unhitch the rig. He gave a firm glance to Almara in the driver’s seat and the woman said nothing and made her way to the back of the wagon to get out the cooking gear with tired motions.

“Master priest,” said Sutekha as he looked up in alarm from the crystalline device that a moment before he summoned to life. “Creatures of the Queen of the Abyss approach the girl. They will take the staff, she cannot stand against them.”

“Damn you Levicus,” said the High Priest of Ras and suddenly drew out his Holy Symbol the burning light roiling with intense heat. “This is your fault.”

Levicus bowed his head and bit his lip but said nothing.

“With only three horses we cannot get to her in time to efface a rescue,” said Seymour looking around at the men.

“There is no time even if we had all the steeds,” said Sutekha, pursed his lips and gazed at the misshapen orb. “They have it even now.”

“Did they kill the girl,” said Levicus with a look at the wizard of the Golden Worm his eyes wide.

“What matters that you fool,” said Seymour as he twisted the burning object in his hand over and over again. Ras mighty god of the sun, keeper of the light, bringer of warmth, has guided us this far and he will guide us now. Oliver take Levicus’s horse, he won’t need it anymore. Levicus, saddle up Shemu before I kill you.”

 “Traveling at night is perilous,” said Oliver and moved over towards the High Priest of Ras and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Sutekha can watch the staff yet and tell us where the creatures take it.”

“You’re a fool Oliver,” exploded Seymour and suddenly grasped the glowing sun orb in both hands and turning towards Levicus who had not moved from the spot.

Ras of Eternal Light, burning great ball,

Heed my words, grant my call,

Fire consumes, burns  the soul, consumes it all!

With that he opened his hands and turned to Levicus who took a step backwards before his eyes suddenly burst open a strange golden light apparently emanated out from inside. The horse master made sort of a gasp sound and the brightness began to pour out of his ears and nose and then even from the pores of his body until he was suddenly glowing like an angel or demonic entity. The only sound he made was a soft grunt and his body began to suddenly collapse in on itself as if some great creature internally consumed him in great gulps. The light grew in intensity so that all of the watchers except Seymour had to turn their heads and cover their eyes. A moment later it was dark again and only three men stood at the little campsite. “That was most unfortunate,” said Seymour to the other two, “but necessary nevertheless,” he continued. “We need to travel as quickly as possible to catch up to those creatures before they are able to deliver the staff to their mistress. Once she has it recovery will be most difficult.”

Oliver bowed his head and began to saddle Levicus’s horse while Sutekha quickly picked up the crystalline object from its bed of sand, replaced it in the soft silk bag, and kept his eyes averted from the burned spot on the ground that marked where the horse master met his end. By the time he finished packing up his things the other two we already prepared to go and it took him long minutes to saddle his own horse as Seymour looked at him as he muttered and shook his head.

Shalalee woke up slightly before dawn and rolled over immediately to the pain in her legs and neck, “ohh,” she groaned in the pre-morning light. The sky was already brighter and the stars dimmed as she looked up and saw that the clouds from the night before were gone. A slight nickering sound to her right caused her to turn her head suddenly and she shouted out in pain as a nerve in her neck protested the movement after a long night on the hard ground. There before her was the most magnificent horse she had ever seen. Compared to the donkeys that pulled the wagon or even the horses she saw at various races held throughout Doria to celebrate market day it seemed impossible that it was even of the same species. The creature’s color was the lightest shade of brown and its forelimbs were smooth and strong ending in a powerful chest. The creature reached down with a nose, bumped against her, and she laughed out loud. The girl sat up with another groan and patted the beautiful animal on the head and spoke, “You’re so beautiful.” Her hand then reached out onto the grass next to her and found nothing. She jerked her head to the left and then the right, “It’s gone!” she exclaimed and jumped to her feet and ignored the dull pain that ran up and down her legs. She looked first to the left and then to the right and spotted the strange tracks in the dewy grass. She looked at the footprints closely and shook her head, “I don’t know what sort of creature made these,” she said and went over to the horse and patted its flank. The great steed stood tall above her and although the stirrup at its side was doubled with one cinched high and the other very low. It took her a moment to figure out the nature of the contraption but she slipped her foot into the lower of the two and tried to throw her leg up and around the horse as she had seen so many other do with apparent ease. Her left leg rose up and clipped the horse in the rump, her other foot slid out of the stirrup, and she tumbled to the ground in a heap. “Oh,” she said on her back and lay there for a long moment while the horse cropped a mouthful of the wet grass.