The Staff of Naught (37 page)

“I doubt we can count on Sutekha, the wormy wretch,” said Seymour a look of disgust on his face as his nose scrunched up along with his upper lip. “We are with an easy few hours ride of the White Marble Ruin,” he continued.

“We should take the staff soon then,” said Oliver, “lest they recover from the attack and interrupt our ceremony.”

“Unless we slay them all,” said Seymour.

“The children also,” replied Oliver in a neutral tone.

“They are heathens,” said Seymour, “but it does seem unnecessary. They do pretend to want the staff destroyed although the little girl’s infection is beyond repair. Killing her would be a mercy.”

Oliver said nothing.

“Do you see any sense in delaying the inevitable?” said Seymour.

Oliver shook his head.

“Well, then. We’ll do it when we stop for our midday break. I’ll try and talk them out of the staff to make things easier but I doubt they’ll allow us to take it. Try not to kill the children but do what you must.”

Oliver nodded and the two rode on.

At lunch Oliver and Seymour stood near the horses and talked while everyone else sat in a circle around the small campfire and watched the pot of stew that slowly came to a boil.

“Here it comes,” said Sutekha to Hazlebub as he observed Seymour come over to the party and Oliver take up a good combative position.

Seymour stepped forward. “We all want the staff destroyed,” he started and Shamki stood up and pulled out his sword while Lousa gave a look to Almara who herself began to gather up the children.

Seymour pointed to Ariana, “You, girl, bring me the staff and no one has to get hurt. Oliver and I will take it to the White Marble ruin and be there in a few hours. You can catch up to us and be there by the time we finish the ceremony.”

“No,” said Lousa and moved to position herself at the flank of the priest while Shamki took a step towards Oliver.

“I don’t want to do this,” said Seymour and reached for the chain around his neck.

“Don’t let him pull it out!” shouted Tanner who charged forward with a small knife in his hand, Unerus was right behind while Tylan scrambled back to the wagon to grab his hammer.

Almara grabbed Ariana by the arm and started to pull her towards the wagon as Shamki closed in on Oliver and all eyes turned for a moment to the two.

Shamki circled to his right and gave a quick slash with his blade but Oliver simply moved his body slightly to the left and evaded the blow. The paladin then gave a quick lunge forward towards Shamki’s left leg and the half-orc two took quick side steps and lunged at the left of the paladin. He knew it was a mistake even before his blade started to move but his instincts took over and he could not stop his action even as Oliver stepped forward and into the blow his own left hand rising up and catching the wrist of the half-orc in his massive hand. Shamki didn’t even try to pull away from the overwhelming grip but tried to kick out with his right leg and trip Oliver. The paladin seemed to anticipate the move, turned his body sideways, and pulled Shamki towards him, which threw the half-orc over his hip and snapped his wrist with a loud crack in the same motion. Oliver stood over Shamki for a mere moment, “You fight well, but must train more diligently,” he said and then slammed the butt end of his sword hilt against Shamki’s forehead where it connected with a sickening thud and the half-orc fell face first to the ground, unmoving.

“Shamki,” cried Lousa and raised her hands to utter magical words but the High Priest of Ras flicked his wrist and suddenly her eyes seemed to burn with white hot intensity, she dropped to her knees with a scream, and tried to blot out the light with her hands.

Hazlebub stood with a potion in her hand but the priest just looked at her and shook his head until she slowly lowered it.

“Now, girl,” said Seymour with a look to Ariana. “No one has to die. Hand over the staff.”

“Never!” shrieked Ariana, “Shinamar help me!” and with that turned to turn away.

Seymour reached into the fiery orb on his chest and flicked a finger towards the fleeing girl and a little glob of fire streaked towards her.

“No,” shrieked Shalalee and leapt in front of the little dart that caught her full in the chest. For a moment nothing seemed to happen but then her face dissolved into a mask of pain as her clothes suddenly burst into flames and her skin began to blacken and shrivel. Even before Almara could take more than a step towards her daughter the girl began to crumple into a black shadowy shape and her body turned to ash. By the time Almara got to here there was nothing left except a pile of blackened debris that shifted loosely in the wind.

“Damn you,” shouted Tanner his eyes blazed with fury and he charged the mage. Another quick thump from the back of Oliver’s sword sent him to the ground face first and unmoving. Almara dropped to her knees and began to weep.

“Girl,” said Seymour. “Hand it over or I’ll kill them all.”

Tylan appeared from behind the wagon and yelled out, “I’ll kill you,” and charged towards Seymour the hammer held over his head but Almara jumped in front of him and held him in a hug.

“No, Tylan, no. He’ll just kill you,” she screamed and held on tightly as the boy tried to struggle free.

“Ariana,” said Oliver. “Hand it over or he will kill them all.”

The girl dropped her head for a moment and then walked over to the priest of Ras and threw the satchel at his feet. “I’ll kill you one day,” she said as tears streamed down her face.

Seymour picked up the satchel, threw it over his shoulder, mounted Shemu with a quick motion, and, in a thunder of hooves, the two were gone, the clearing suddenly still again.

“There are at least two hundred of them,” said Oliver as he watched the milling hobgoblins around in front of the small hill atop of which sat a gleaming White Marble Ruin. Dozens of banners were visible from the peak of the ruin and small figures moved about its surface involved in their various tasks. “And that’s not counting the leaders up on top. Probably shamans and warriors for the most part. I don’t see any way we can get up there and perform the ceremony. We’re going to have to wait.”

“Of all days to have a ceremony,” said Seymour with a shake his head. “What are these heathens worshipping anyway?”

“It looks like some sort of lunar celebration,” said the paladin. “They are setting up now but the event probably won’t take place until tonight or maybe tomorrow morning. There is nothing to do but wait.”

“That will give the girl and her friends time to catch us,” said Seymour.

“If they bother chasing,” replied Oliver. “You killed the daughter and I bested their finest warrior. Perhaps they will leave well enough alone and return to Doria. They know we plan to destroy the staff in any case, what benefit is it to them to come and see the result?”

“The little girl, with the teeth,” said Seymour. “She is driven by powers she does not understand. She will force them to come somehow. It will be difficult to fight them with all these Hobgoblins around. The Icon of Ras, while powerful, is not subtle.”

“No,” said Oliver. “Perhaps we should take up position on the far side of the hill and move to the top as quickly as possible come morning.”

“If the heathens have left,” said Seymour.

Oliver nodded, “Yes.”

The wagon moved over the grass at the same pace as always the donkeys put one hoof in front of the other in unceasing monotony and the grim face sitting at the head of the wagon blinked back tears and in the back the witch woman, Tylan, the Wizard of the Golden Worm, and Almara sat in silence not looking at one another but instead gazed at the floorboards. Every once in a while Tanner looked over his shoulder and back towards the west where the rest of the group decided to pursue the Tarltonites.

Far ahead in that direction, Shamki road his horse while Lousa rode on Sutekha’s old horse with Unerus sitting behind her his arms around her waist. Humbort walked along with little Ariana perched on his shoulder although the mood of this group seemed no better than that of those in the wagon.

“Do you think we’ll get there in time to watch the ceremony?” asked Unerus from behind Lousa.

“I don’t think so,” said the woman in a quiet tone of voice as her eyes watched Shamki ahead of her. “I’m not even sure why we’re going on to be honest but I didn’t want to say no to Ara and I thought it best to let Tanner and Almara head back.”

“Some kids I knew back in Iv’s Folly got killed,” said Unerus and blinked away a tear. “But, not anyone I really liked. I think my parents are dead too but I didn’t know them much.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” said Lousa half turned in her saddle and looked down on the lad. “You and Shalalee were friends.”

“I’m not just sad,” said Unerus his body suddenly stiff and his eyes narrowed. “I want to kill Seymour and Oliver too.”

“I understand,” said Lousa. “I’ve wanted to kill a lot of people over the course of my life. People that did bad things to my mother, bad things to me. Sometimes you can let those sorts of thoughts take over your life. Sometimes it’s best to let them go and just go on with your own life as best you can.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” said Unerus.

“I doubt we can kill, or even hurt, Seymour,” said Lousa and turned back around to face the long trail. “They are too strong. Sometimes people are beyond your reach no matter how much you want to make things right. Life isn’t fair.”

“You don’t have to explain that to me,” said the boy. “I’ve known that since I was little. I’ve had some pretty bad things happen to me and I let them go mostly but this time I just … just hurt inside.”

“I know,” said Lousa. “If we catch up to Seymour and Oliver promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to lose you or your sister.”

“Or Shamki,” said Unerus and looked towards the horseman ahead of them. The big half-orc’s arm was in a sling courtesy of Hazlebub, the last thing she did before a tearful farewell separated the group.

“Or Shamki,” said Lousa. “I don’t know what he’ll do if we catch them.”

“Why don’t you talk to him,” said Unerus, “like you’re talking to me?”

“His pride was hurt,” said Lousa her body drooped in the saddle. “He is a proud man and when something like that happens it can be humiliating. He doesn’t need me to tell him what to do right now. He would just resent me, hold it against me later. I’ve known a lot of men in my days. They’re not much different than boys like you sometimes, most of the time.”

“Oh,” said Unerus. “I guess I understand. What will you do if Shamki tries to fight Oliver again?”

“I don’t know,” said Lousa her hands twitched at the reigns of the horse. “I just don’t know. Hopefully we won’t have to find out but there is something in the way your sister talks that tells me this thing isn’t over yet.”

“Do you think it’s that voice that she hears? That Shinamar person?” said Unerus and looked over to where Ariana sat on the shoulders of Humbort who, despite the several miles of travel showed no signs that he was tired, his step as bouncy and gangly as ever. The girl wore a calm expression on her face and the gleam in her eye was steady as she gazed forward towards their destination.

“That voice, or that entity, of whatever it is, Shinamar, an imposter, the staff itself, whatever, has changed her,” said Lousa. “I never should have let her take it in the first place back in that cave. It was the first mistake of many.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Unerus but his tone wasn’t firm and the sentence hung in the air for a long moment.

“Yes, it was my fault,” said Lousa. “But, as you go through life you’ll find that a lot of things are your fault and you can’t always do anything about it.”

“I know,” said Unerus and again looked to his sister on Humbort’s shoulder. “But you can try.”

“That’s true,” said Lousa. “You can always try. Look up there,” she said pointing to the sky and the sun that was low on the horizon. I don’t think we’re going to make it to that site. That means we’ll never catch them. Seymour will complete the ceremony either tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe we should just turn back.”

“I don’t think my sister will go,” said Unerus. “If we make her she’ll just sneak off and head back by herself.”

“Probably so,” said Lousa her long green hair suddenly caught in the breeze and a look of quiet sadness came to her face. “Even if there are no gods sometimes it seems like life is destined to follow a certain path no matter how much you try to avoid it. There,” continued the woman and pointed to an open plain where a narrow creek cut through the terrain. That’s a good place to camp. Hop off and I’ll ride up to Shamki.”

The young urchin jumped off the horse with a bounce, landed on the grass with a single tumble, sprang back to his feet without injury, and started to trot to Humbort and Ariana. “We’re going to stop for the night by that creek!” he shouted to the two.

Ariana frowned but said nothing and Humbort immediately began to stride towards the chosen site in sort of a gallop that bounced the girl up and down. She shrieked once with a huge smile on her face before she caught herself and settled back down to her previous look of determination.

The sliver of moon that shone above in the clear sky gave Shamki plenty of light to see and he noticed the caravan before anyone else. It looked to be two or three wagons that moved at an easy pace over the grassy plain and the voices of revelers quickly came to him as the wind shifted. It only took a moment or two longer for Lousa to hear the sounds even though she half nodded in sleep. It looked like the travelers would pass a hundred or so yards to their right and, if the group remained silent, would pass by without notice.

“Who is it?” whispered the beautiful woman her hair loose and wild and her cotton nightgown flapped around her ankles in the breeze.

“Hobgoblins,” said Shamki. “Three wagons, not quiet.”

“No, they aren’t,” said Lousa and moved her jaw back and forth to the left and right. “It’s like they’re coming back from a party or something.”

“New moon ceremony, maybe,” said Shamki. “Hobgobbies worship moon mostly.”