This Is Morning

Where is the descent into the shadow?
Where the oddness of light?
This is the weirdness of morning,
the bleary-eyed stare into the middle distance.
A cacophony of uninteresting activity occupies the ears,
frustrating the brain’s attempt at lucidity.
Here is empty obedience to the body’s necessities,
and thank the Gods for that.
But then, the coffee is good, like confession and
screaming curses at the sky.
The drilling headache that follows is evidence of life,
and an opening to the news of the day.
So much for the shadow, forgotten; so much for soft light.
Bring the day’s fight! Open the Third Eye of burden!
I am awake, I am ready...

The Eternal City, Parts 18 & 19

The King of the Dead stood within his ring of stones and gazed malevolently at the southern horizon. He awaited the arrival of his shadowy ally, this ruler of trolls. A towering rage inspired him, and he thought of the many punishments he would like to visit upon the creature. They would be painful, extensive, long, and eventually fatal. But, there was one punishment that fit above all, and he would find great satisfaction in inflicting it.

“I am here,” came the voice of the shadow from near and behind him. It was still full of confidence, of insolence. It suspected nothing, another sign of its inferiority.

The King of the Dead turned and held his arm out before him, his hand tracing a small, quick gesture. Instantly, the shadowy form of the creature claiming to be the Night Spirit was encased in a transparent sphere, preventing it from moving or affecting anything around it.

“You cannot be whom you claim to be,” said the King of the Dead, a triumphant smile playing at his lips. “The Night Spirit would not be captured so easily. Not even within the confines of my own sanctuary would I have been able to do this.”

He stepped nearer the shadow. “No, you are no Fomorian at all. Rather, you are simply an upstart little spirit, playing games too big for itself.”

The shadow remained silent. It simply glared at the King of the Dead. But, something had changed. The gold of its irises, those strange little circles that seemed so out of place in the shadow changed. They were replaced with the red, slit-irised eyes of a troll. Its pupils narrowed, as if it were frightened of its own transformation.

Something happened to the shadow itself, too. It seemed to become grainy, its darkness wavering, flowing from one part of itself to another. It tried to back away, but could only reach the side of the sphere.

The King of the Dead laughed a little. “You are in trouble,” he teased.

“Tell me,” he said, turning suddenly serious. “What would have possessed you to directly take the life of a mortal? Did you not think I would know?” He put his face right up to the edge of the sphere. “I am the King of the Dead! No spirit may kill but at my command. No Fomorian, and certainly no creature less than we! It is only these little mortals who are free to do so.” As he spoke this last, he found a regret in his voice he’d not heard in a long time.

This little creature was going to suffer, oh yes. But, it would still be no consolation for allowing the last one to get away with it. He knew who she was, what she had done, and why. And he had let her go. He had done nothing, though it would have been within his power and his rights to do anything, and he would still do nothing, unless she forced his hand. Even then, he was not sure.

“Come, my little friend,” The King of Death said, reaching out toward the sphere, “let us go see the Witch.”

The little shadow’s eyes grew wide, and the depth of its darkness seemed to waver even more.


19.

“What of the man’s concubine?” Maselin asked. “Where is she?”

Gils replied, “She was found in their tent. He neck was twisted around… -er, several times.”

“Gruesome,” Maselin said, eyebrows raised. “Do you suspect the Ghok slaves?”

“It occurred to me,” Gils answered. “But, I don’t think so. They would have fled, certainly. Also, it is my understanding that the Ghoks are honor-bound to serve their captors. Something about their own culture prevents them from revolting.”

“This I have heard, as well,” Maselin agreed. “A strange death, and we may never know the answer. Steadmeet wanes, and we haven’t the time or people to question everyone who might have done it.”

Steadmeet was full of many sorts of people, not all of them simple traders. Thieves, bandits and other unsavory characters were attracted to Steadmeet also. This was only natural. Also, merchants could be fiercely competitive. Perhaps one of them seized upon this chance to remove some of the competition completely.

The girl, Kira, had asked that the Maiden remain in their care for a little longer. The Ghoks were awaiting her outside. She’d gone to see them, and Maselin decided to follow. He was possessed of a curious mind, and this was getting the better of him. It was very exciting!

Night and Sun, Eternal Distance

Distant night, violent in vaporous, artificial brightness
Empty of safety, but sleepy all the same
Draping the hills in the eternal distance
That is brought by the absence of sight
Hiding the King of Fire in danger and ignorance
And robing even the sharp-eyed in uneasiness
Brings, still, its own luminosity, unlooked-for and despised

Graceful sun, Lord of Nurture and God of Burning and Dessication
Brings a wailing, eviscerating screech
To the eye used to streetlights
But shouts a welcome, all the same
Hiding in its light the unwary and stupid
Preserving them for another feast
An audience to their fumblings and their guilt
Lighting their way to their own little destinies

Power of Words

Carey and some of our friends recently read a series of books that are in the process of being made into movies. I've not read them, and intend to continue resisting for the foreseeable future, but I have been struck by the emotional impact the books have had on some of the readers.

One hears on occasion how the power of the written word can be moving. For instance, parts of the Bible are quite beautifully written, and elicit strong emotional responses. Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Keats, Forster, Hemingway all have moments that are very moving.

But, when naming authors who impress with their emotional impact, quite beyond the quality of their work, the above list is not out of the realm of the expected. The series of books my friends have been reading is written by Stephenie Meyer, Twilight, et al. Initially, this surprised me a great deal, as the books are written as thrillers aimed at teens. But, then I began to consider that Shakespeare's works were aimed at the common audience, and pandered directly to what the public wanted.

What the public seems to want, these days, is vampire sex. If that is what it takes to get into the head of a reader and make him/her react with something more than indifference, I'm willing to set judgement aside, and allow time and taste to decide.

I realize that this is supposed to be a literary blog, but I think this is one of the most remarkable discoveries in a very long time.

Gobekli Tepe

What goes unsaid here is that there are some beautiful friezes and carvings at this site which do not simply spring fresh from the stone-age mind. There was a period of development here that speaks of further antiquity. Ten thousand years is long enough ago, but there is a still more ancient tradition of art and religion that must have preceded this temple.

The Eternal City, Part 17

Menold, dwarrow of the Southtend, had a reputation for the love of brewed libation. His reputation was such that he had earned the epithet, Foamnose, among his close friends. Since their arrival at Gate Island, it had been his habit to take one hour off every day to venture into town and partake of one or two of the town’s fine beers. It was such a mission, he assured Miri, that brought him to town this day.

His real intention, of course, was to see if he could spot the Maiden, thereby finding the girl who would be with her. It was his intention to invite them to the booth. That way, the predictions of the Elders need not be compromised, and they would achieve their goal that much faster. Then, they could go home.

He made his first stop at a tavern where he recalled having a particularly fine brown beer. It was there he overheard the first of the whisperings.

“It happened right across the street from Maselin’s house,” one of the locals was saying. “Apparently, ten of ‘em tried to kill the Maiden, and her apprentice killed them, instead.”

“Bad move,” his friend said. “Ain’t never heard of nobody killin’ a Maiden.”

Menold set out almost immediately for Maselin’s house. Along the way, he heard more rumors. The number of attackers grew with the telling, until an army had marched quietly into town and the Maiden had taken down all but one of them, and her apprentice did for him.

Taking most of the talk for what it was, he knew there must be a kernel of truth to it. This could be trouble for him and his companions. He silently cursed Miri for convincing them not to pursue the girl.

Some of the rumors involved the town watch, and Menold took that part for true. So, once he reached Maselin’s house and found nothing going on, he headed for the building that housed the watch.

When he arrived, a small crowd was milling about. Mostly locals, but there were some from out of town as well. Most had come to stare at the three ghoks seated on the edge of the North-South Road, outside of the watch building. He was curious, as well, and as it seemed this was where he would find the girl, he decided to join the crowd.

The Eternal City, Part 16

“I see the taint in you, girl,” a voice said.

Nessa was lying atop the altar in the chapel at Windhold. The high, vaulted ceilings were shadowed in night, the only light emanating from the candles of devotees left after the final service of the day.

She sat up, weak and sickly-feeling.

The voice came from all around her, “You’ve been poisoned, and you will die.”

It was the voice the Goddess had used in her other visions, so Nessa knew she spoke the truth.

“Before this happens, you must bring the girl to me,” the Goddess said. “You cannot fail.”


She awoke lying on a cot in a strange room. Her chest ached, her face and throat and nose burned. She tried to sit up.

“Steady on, darling,” came a kindly voice. In to her view came a short, elderly human woman. She smiled down at Nessa. “You just lie still, now. You’ve had a rough night.”

“Kira?” Nessa croaked. Her throat was raw, and her voice wouldn’t work.

“The girl is fine,” the woman said. “You don’t worry about her.”

Nessa drifted back to sleep, despite her best efforts.


Kira sat in a nearby room, looking out the window at the growing light. The North-South Road below was filling with people, again. She could see their little campsite across the street and a little way south. The people in the house were emerging, still groggy from the evening’s revels. They had no idea what had happened just outside their home.

There was a little knock on the door, and Maselin entered with two humans. They were both short and a little on the chubby side, and each stood on one side of the tall and thin Maselin as they filled the little room. Kira thought they looked slightly comical.

“Forgive us,” Maselin said. “We would like to apologize for the poor hospitality of our little town. I hope you will believe us when we say that this sort of thing almost never happens, here. In fact,” he went on, “in all my time as mayor, this is the first time anyone has done anything like this. And I have been mayor for nearly a hundred bazaars.”

“I understand,” Kira said. “It’s OK. But, how is Nessa?”

“Ah,” the man on Maselin’s left said. “I have examined her, and it seems she has been poisoned by a substance of which I have no knowledge.”

“This is Master Stile,” Maselin introduced. “He sometimes acts as a physician in Gate Island.”

The physician bowed slightly.

“I cannot say what the long-term effects of the poison will be,” he went on, “but, she seems to be past the initial threat.” He paused, then, “You haven’t, ah, seen her yet, have you?”

Kira was confused, and it must have shown on her face.

“Her face has been damaged,” the physician continued. “What the actual damage has been will only be known once the swelling stops. But, there will be some extensive scarring.”

“I wish to see her,” Kira said, suddenly. She suddenly had the idea that these three were here to keep her from just that, and she refused to allow it.

“Well,” the third man said. “I don’t think that is necessarily a good idea, just now.”

“Gils,” Maselin said. “He leads Gate Island’s guards.”

“Perhaps it would be best for you to allow her to rest,” Gils said. “Besides, I would like to ask a few questions.”

“I wish to see her,” Kira said again, and turned to face them more squarely.

Maselin turned to Gils and said, “I don’t suppose it would harm anything, do you?”


Kira nearly burst into tears when she saw her friend. She suppressed her emotions, and promised herself she would cry later.

Nessa’s face was terribly swollen, especially the lower half. She had a hole in the base of her throat where Stile had made a puncture in order to get air into her lungs. Apparently, her throat had swollen shut. Now, the hole had a stitch in it, and she was breathing normally. The poison had eaten away skin, and bandages covered most of her jaw and her nose. Some of the poison had reached her left eye, as well, and it was heavily bandaged.

She was asleep, and Kira didn’t disturb her. She turned to leave the room, brushing past the three men, when a thought struck her.

“What of the man’s slaves?” she asked.

The two humans looked confused, but Maselin answered, “It is interesting you should ask. They are just outside. They seem to be waiting for something, but they will speak to none but you.”

“Why me?” Kira asked.

“I do not know,” said, holding out his hands in his equivalent of a shrug.

Kira still had her sword, and she was in the mood for a fight. She decided to leave Nessa in the hands of these people for just a little while longer.

Outside the room, Gils asked her, “Young lady, why do you suppose this man would attack your friend?”

“I do not know,” Kira lied. It was her first time. She hoped he believed it.

The Eternal City, Part 15

It took almost all of the rest of the night to find them. Stellus asked dozens of people finally figuring out they were on the island. Then, dozens more to find that they would be found somewhere along the North-South Road. It was just a lucky thing, he thought, that Maidens are easy to spot.

He found them huddled against a post of one of the elevated houses, just underneath it. As luck would have it, there were few other people around, and they all seemed to be asleep. The Maiden sat, keeping watch, however. She knew her duty, he thought. He admired that. He thought it a shame he must ruin her life.

He kept to the open part of the street, approaching in plain view. He kept a smile on his face, as if pleased to see her. He held a powdered substance gripped in his left hand.

“Ah, excuse me,” he said. “Are you a Sword Maiden?” He continued before she could brush him off, “I ask because my daughter has been so hoping she would be chosen-.”

She was on her feet, standing in front of the girl, who continued to sleep quietly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Stellus went on. “I just have a few questions.”

With that, he threw the powder in her face. Caught off guard by such a tactic, the Maiden inhaled involuntarily, and began to choke. In a few seconds, she was collapsing. He caught her, and dragged her under the house, and approached the spot where the girl was sleeping.

She was gone!

Stellus cursed, loudly.


Kira retreated into the shadows of the underside of the house when she saw Nessa begin to choke. In a moment, she had her sword out and was searching for a way to approach the assassin without him seeing her.

He now had a dagger out, and was standing, indecisive, just beyond the house. The happy sounds of the inhabitants celebrating some occasion could be heard above her head. Keeping to the shadows for as long as possible, she didn’t reveal herself until the final second before her attack.

He parried her first blow, and came back at her. There was something in his demeanor which seemed to indicate he didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t attack, for instance. He seemed content, for the moment, to defend.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Never mind that, girl,” he answered. “What is important is who you are. Apparently, you are important for some reason. It is simply my job to retrieve you.”

“Retrieve?”

“Barring that, I must kill you,” he admitted, with a shrug.

She attacked again, deciding not to wait for him to decide. He parried again, but she didn’t hesitate, this time. She caught him with a second attack, just below the left arm, delving deep into his chest.

He looked surprised for a moment, and suddenly crumpled to the ground.

It was just then that the town watch arrived.

The Eternal City, Part 14

“I think I just saw her!” Miri said. She had burst in on Gerrold and Menold as they took a break from the booth. “She disappeared into the crowd, but she had a Maiden with her, just like the Elders said!”

Gerrold and Menold looked at each other excitedly.

“Well,” Gerrold said. “Shouldn’t we go after her?”

“She’s supposed to come to us,” Miri said, putting out a hand, as if to stop him from crashing past her into the bazaar. “The Elders were very specific.”

“But, we spotted her first,” Menold said. “Does that mean nothing?”

Gerrold sighed. “Miri has been right all this time. I suppose we should wait.” He shook his finger at her, “But, not forever.”


Stellus assured his three slaves were secured to their posts before entering his tent behind the booth. Inside, instead of the welcoming face of his concubine, he found the hovering black shadow that had plagued him of late. Its unblinking, golden eyes regarded him coldly, making him shift from foot to foot, and look at the ground more often than his pride would have liked.

“You saw her?” the shadow asked.

“Yes,” Stellus answered. “She was with a Maiden, as described. She doesn’t look important. Just another of these northern peasants.”

“Your opinion is noted,” the shadow said, mockingly. “The fact that my children have been unable to destroy her speaks to me, however. She is protected, therefore she is important. She is what we have awaited.”

“And what is that?” Stellus asked.

“Salvation or destruction,” the shadow answered. “Find her, bring her to me. If you cannot bring her, kill her. Now.”


Stellus had no idea how he was going to accomplish this. The girl would be no trouble. He would simply knock her unconscious and drag her away. The Maiden, however, was a problem. He knew of few who could stand against a Maiden in combat. He was not one of them.

As he moved through the night traffic of the bazaar, an idea struck him. He knew a merchant nearby who could solve this problem. He changed course, and headed for the edges of the bazaar. In a few minutes, he was standing outside a booth where a small fire played atop a single torch. She was still open, one of many merchants whose merchandise sold better at night.

“Stellus,” the young woman said as he approached. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Good evening, Gretta,” Stellus said. “I come with hope that you have some of your more potent wares prepared.”

“Ah, the costly ones,” Gretta purred.

Stellus snorted, “Of course.” He reached into his pouch and pulled out a glittering necklace, covered in stones. “The very costly ones.”

The Eternal City, Part 13

They could see the smoke from the cookfires of the bazaar from miles away. The forward rider occasionally rode ahead to scout, and when they were close enough, he told them the bazaar was well underway, and filled with people.

They reached the river just at a point where it turned north, and followed it west to the dike surrounding the bazaar. After that they followed it around to the gate on the south side, and were shown by a tall, curious Seraph named Maselin to a booth on the outer edge of the bazaar, right on the flank of the dike. It was a little out-of-the-way, but the steaders resigned themselves to it readily enough, just happy to be at the bazaar.

Nessa extracted the price of their protection from the unwilling grip of Stanold, and she and Kira made their way toward the island. On the way, Nessa did her best to point out the various kinds of people.

In one booth, a human dressed in heavy black garments stood behind several other beings, all wearing nothing but chains. These creatures were lizard-like, of a size with any other person, but slightly stooped. Their faces were elongated into a short snout, and their eyes were like those of a cat. Their short tails were constantly twitching. Each was scaled with a distinctive, bright color (one orange, one blue, one red), mixed with browns and blacks. Each had a low crest atop its head which ran part of the way down its back.

“That is a trader from Undertorch with his slaves,” Nessa said. “Undertorch is the only place in the world that still has slavery.” Her voice was thick with distaste.

“It is quite a risk for him, bringing his ghoks with him.”

“Why is that?” Kira couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the idea of ownership, especially when it came to a fellow person. “And why do they not simply turn on him? They could easily force him to release them.”

“The risk,” Nessa said as they continued on, “is that they might escape. As to why they don’t turn on him… well, that is a long and strange story, from deep in the ancient past. The ghoks who live among the folk of Undertorch have been bred for slavery, only occasionally mixed with captives seized from the deserts south of the city. It is a deeply ingrained idea that their masters are god-like and must be served.”

“I don’t understand,” Kira said.

“Yes,” Nessa replied. “I have a hard time with it, too.”

As they moved through the bazaar, Kira began to feel more and more confined. There were so many people here. More people than she had ever imagined. She suppressed the desire to simply flee, head for the gate and never return to this place.

Seraphs and Dwarrows still dominated here, though there were a few others, as well. Nessa pointed out to Kira a strange booth that appeared to have grown there. It was made of two trees, with the branches providing the shelter above the merchants. Kira’s first urge was to head for it and hide there.

Then, she caught a glimpse of the two inhabitants. They were almost invisible, as they mixed so well with their surroundings. They resembled trees so much that Kira first thought they were saplings. They were exceedingly thin, like a young tree, with two main branches extending from the trunk and ending in a collection of twigs they used as hands. At the top of the trunk, more branches grew leaves. Kira could not see below about waist-height, as a low-hanging branch of the booth was in the way, but they seemed not to move from their respective places, as if they had sunk roots there. She could see no eyes or other sensory organs.

“Druids,” Nessa said. “From the Treelands far to the south of Pass-by. Those two are probably the only Druids in the Freesteads.”

“What do they trade?” Kira asked, fascinated.

“They trade amber, mostly,” Nessa said.

“Can we talk to them?” Kira asked.

“Certainly,” Nessa said. “But, let’s do that tomorrow. I want to get us someplace to sleep, first.”

Their horses were as nervous as Kira by the time they reached the bridge that crossed over to Gate Island. The North-South road was crowded, and that didn’t change once they’d entered the town. It quickly became clear that they would find themselves sleeping under the stars again, this night. Kira was relieved, as she didn’t like houses. She had discovered this while she washed dishes in the kitchen at Bellows Howe. They seemed like crowded, confining caves.

They did find a young Seraph who agreed to care for their horses, and keep people from stealing their goods while they did their business the next day. They simply agreed to leave him with a share of the goods they acquired.

The Eternal City, Part 12

Miri and Gerrold relaxed in the back of the little tent. Menold manned the front, where their merchandise was sold. It was evening, and traffic had slowed. It never stopped, as the bazaar went on at all hours, but there were lulls.

“So where is this little human?” Gerrold asked. “We are here, and we are trading, but it does not seem to me that this trip was worth it. If she does not show, then what?”

Miri smiled. Gerrold had been grumpy the whole journey, and he showed no signs of cheering up, even when he saw gold flow in. They sold diamonds, small, beautifully cut and near-perfect. They commanded a high price. The gold, of course, they exchanged for other goods which would be of use to them in their tunnels, back home. But, it wasn’t the great haul Gerrold had been hoping for. It seemed, more than ever, a wasted trip.

“The Elders said she would show,” Miri said with confidence, propping her feet up on a small chest. “That is good enough for me.”

“What if they are wrong?” Gerrold persisted.
Miri considered for a moment, then said, “I should not tell you. But, you are annoying, and if it will help to stop your incessant complaining, I will tell you something. But, you must keep it to yourself. Menold may be told, I suppose, but do not spread it to any stranger.”

Gerrold just stared at her. When had he ever spoken to an outsider, other than to complete some transaction?

Miri sighed and went on, “One of the elders told me they had been given this information by the Lady of the Well.”

Gerrold’s jaw dropped. “Wha-,” he said.

In a few moments he recovered enough to ask, “Why weren’t the rest of us told. That would have changed everything. I would have come willingly.”

“I wasn’t even supposed to know,” Miri said. She looked a little sheepish, “I sort of overheard…”

Gerrold snorted, “Miri, you have always been nosy. Too much interested in things that weren’t your business.” He sighed. “I suppose it is good that you ‘overheard’, though. Otherwise, none of us would understand what was going on, and we might not have stayed long enough to accomplish the task.

“So,” Gerrold said, taking renewed interest in his purpose. “We are to see this girl, give her the stone, and tell her it is from our elders, to aid her on her way. Then what?”

“I suppose we pack up and go,” Miri answered.

“Good.”

The Eternal City, Part 11

Nessa’s estimate was right. The rain hit them about an hour after sundown, and she and Kira made themselves at home under the last wagon. They weren’t offered the space, Nessa simply told the driver they were moving in. This obviously didn’t sit well with him, but the fight with the trolls was still fresh in everyone’s memory, so the begrudging hospitality they had shown previously was quite a bit more polite now.

The wagons were large, anyway, and there was plenty of room. In fact, the driver, the crossbowman and one of the other riders huddled at one end, and Nessa and Kira at the other. There was still enough room between them that, with the noise of the rain, each group could talk amongst themselves without the other hearing.

At first, Kira was fascinated by everyone else’s clamor to get out of the rain. She had always enjoyed the rain on her face, and quite happily welcomed the showers that fell through the trees as refreshing. Soon, though, as the rain went on, and got harder and harder, she began to understand. The storms which swept the plain were little akin to those that came to the forest. And if there had been something like this, the canopy would have mitigated it somewhat.

As the storm went on, however, she began to find the sound of the wind and the falling water soothing. Even the sudden lightning flashes and accompanying thunder didn’t trouble her.

“Kira,” a voice she didn’t recognize spoke gently. “Kira.”

She was standing in the rain, at the top of a little hill. The plain spread out around her, and the camp with the wagons and horses and the other people was a few hundred feet away. Standing next to her was a woman of medium height, clad in a simple dress of indeterminate color. She was plump, friendly-looking, and beaming at Kira. Her eyes were golden, and glowing in the darkness.

Seeing the girl’s confusion, the woman said, “Don’t be alarmed. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She smiled so sweetly, Kira couldn’t imagine this woman hurting anyone. Besides, Kira was the one with the sword strapped to her side, not her.

“Who are you?” Kira asked.

“Well,” the woman seemed to be considering how to answer. “I am sometimes called the Gray Lady, in these lands. On the other side of the mountains over there,” she vaguely gestured to the east, “they just call me rain. But, they are simpler folk, there.” She said this last with an air of confidentiality, as if saying something she shouldn’t, but indicating that it was probably true, nonetheless.

For the first time, Kira noticed little voices raised in giggles all around her. She looked down and saw a myriad little creatures, all like tiny little women, spread out around her. They were everywhere, and they danced and giggled and played. Some were tiny, like ants, and she could barely tell they were there, others were closer to the size of mice, but none were bigger than that.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” the Gray Lady said. “Those are just my Little Ladies. They are my helpers. They don’t last long, but they have fun while they do.” She smiled.

“Ok, now,” she went on. “I need you to listen, because I won’t be here much longer. OK?”

“OK,” Kira said, still bewildered.

“First, I want to tell you, my Little Ladies say that your friend, the big green one, ah… Hero, is alright, and he will heal up just fine.”

The Gray Lady smiled at the pleased look on Kira’s face. Then her demeanor changed. She became very serious and stepped closer to Kira.

“Now,” she began. “This second thing I must tell you is very important. You must listen carefully, because your life and the life of the one you travel with could depend on it. It is already well-known to all of us that you must travel to see the Sword Goddess. It is the purpose of the Maidens to protect you, and that cannot be done properly until you see the Sword Goddess, and, more importantly, she sees you.

“However, it does not end there,” the rain around them seemed to lessen suddenly, and there were fewer of the Little Ladies about. “I’ll have to hurry,” the Gray Lady said looking about her. “I can’t stay much longer.

“You must also travel to the Floating Ruins. You can ask the Maiden about them. But, you must go there and see the Keeper of the Record. If you do not,” she said, quickly, overriding Kira’s attempt to interrupt, “there may very well be a war. I cannot expect you to understand what that means. There hasn’t been a war in… oh, such a very long time. But, this war would almost certainly destroy the life on this world. That is, in fact, the goal of some who wish this war to come.”

At that, the Gray Lady began to fade with the passing storm. “None can force you to do this. You remain a free person. The decision must be yours. Just know what comes if you choose not to act.”

With that, she faded away completely, along with the last of the Little Ladies. Kira found herself alone on the plain.

She awoke underneath the wagon, soaked to the bone, as the sun rose over the plain. The sky was clear, and the air was chilly. Nessa, who was completely dry along with everyone else under the wagon, regarded her curiously.

The Eternal City, Part 10

As they rode the next day, keeping to the top of a low rise to the right of the caravan, Nessa asked Kira, “Have you always had trouble with trolls?”

“No,” Kira answered. “I’d never seen one before the fight in the forest.”

“It worries me they didn’t seem to care much for the horses,” Nessa said. “Usually, trolls want to carry off the biggest target. Probably because they would provide the most food.” She paused for a moment, then went on, “It’s strange that they both went for you, as if I were of no consequence. Trolls are stupid, of course. But, they wouldn’t ignore a threat like me. They know what a sword is, generally.

“There is something more going on here,” Nessa continued. “My Goddess might not be the only one of her kind looking for you.”

Kira didn’t like the sound of that.

“Who else might be looking for me?” she asked.

“Legend says the Night Spirit rules trolls,” Nessa replied. “Trolls are, mostly, creatures of the night. Odd, though, that the creatures sent against you are Black Trolls, as they are the only trolls who move about in the daylight.”

They didn’t speak for some time after. Kira spent her time watching the land around, searching for signs of another attack. She examined patches of ground that didn’t quite match those around them; she watched shadows, twitched at every change in the breeze. Monster felt her nervousness, and became restless, as well.

Together, they began to get on Nessa’s nerves, and she rode ahead of them so she could think. The land around them was beginning a long, almost imperceptible slope toward the little valley carved by the Northflow River. Otherwise the land was little changed, still various shades of brown draped over a slightly rolling plain. The wind was out of the south in this season, so it was warm, and mostly gentle.

That breeze was picking up, however, and far off on the horizon, on the other side of the caravan, Nessa could see darkness gathering. A storm was coming up from the distant sea, and it looked to be a big one. She could see the occasional flash of lightning in the gray mass, and the smell of rain was in her nose. She guessed that the rain would reach them that night.

The Eternal City, Part 9

That night, sensing the farmsteaders’ unease at having strangers at their fires, Kira and Nessa made their own fire a short distance from the wagons. There they ate their share of the stew the steaders had cooked. Nessa also continued Kira’s instruction in combat, going over moves learned the day before, and teaching her more. Nessa was surprised at how quickly the girl learned.

They passed a peaceful night under the stars, each traveler taking his or her turn at watch, and were underway again before sunup. This day, Kira rode her own horse, but stayed close to Nessa. She named the horse Monster, because that is what he looked like to her when he occasionally bared his teeth. By the end of the day, they were friends, and neither was nervous around the other. According to Nessa, this was important. You needed to be able to trust your mount.

Sunset brought a halt to the journey, once again. The two of them were taking their position a little way away from the others, and Kira was working on lighting the fire. Suddenly, a huge form burst from the ground nearby, scattering their horses.

It was a troll, huge and black. It went straight for Kira, ignoring the other form already crouching to retaliate. Kira stumbled back, groping for her weapon. By the time her weapon was out, Nessa had made a deep slash in the monster’s side, drawing its attention away.

Kira’s mind went blank at that moment. She saw the creature turn toward Nessa, and she lifted her blade, burying it to the hilt in the monster’s ribcage. Its arm swung back, weakly batting Kira aside, then it fell to the ground unmoving.

It was then that Kira realized the battle wasn’t over. Nessa was trading swipes with another of the beasts. Kira worked to pull her sword from the troll, but it was stuck. All she could do was watch Nessa.

The Sword Maiden dodged, slashed and pirouetted about the troll, frustrating it at every turn. She seemed to be waiting for something. Perhaps she was letting it wear itself out, or maybe she was struggling to get in through its superior reach. Whatever the case, Nessa finally chose her moment, going in underneath an overreaching slash, and gutting the monster. She spun around and with her next swipe took off the monster’s head.

Stunned, Kira could only stare at the Sword Maiden. She had never seen such a thing as what had just happened. And she desperately wanted to learn how to do it herself.

During the course of the combat, the steaders had stood aloof, merely watching it unfold. It was over quickly, but not so quickly the crossbowmen could not have done some good, and Nessa pulled Stanold aside and let him know this in very certain terms. Stanold went away from the exchange a much paler red than usual.

Kira’s lesson that night was how not to get her sword stuck in her adversary.