A GATHERING OF THE LOST
(© 1998) by KAIN MASSIN
The next day, we were put to work. I was assigned to helping carve large rocks out of the nearby quarry. At first, it was difficult and I had to concentrate on the task. Since I am not able to walk well without my staff, I stumbled a great deal. For that, I received the whip. Once I had learned the rhythm and could perform the work without fear of dropping a rock onto myself, I could again go away to the past. I was still awkward, however, and my back was red with blood by the end of the day.
The guards came earlier that night. I was selected among the ten that went. We passed out of the temple and in to the fortification which had previously been the garrison’s. Here, in the large mess hall, we finally met the OverWizard . The mess had been converted into a banquet hall, with long trestle tables seating the raiders and other fighters. The tables were waited on by young women who were obviously required to do other, more intimate, duties for the men. At the furthest end of the hall, a stone dais had been raised, and there was a man sitting on a gilt chair.
He wore only red clothes: shirt, trouse, boots and a large cape, all trimmed in gold thread. Without a doubt, he was trying to look like the Emperor’s own sorcerer, the Potentor. He was a tall man, evident even though he was lounging in the chair with one leg casually hung over an armrest. A golden goblet dangled from his right hand. He was talking to another man, equally as tall, but with the build and poise of a warrior; this impression was enhanced by the broadsword strapped to his back. In contrast to the OverWizard, this man was dressed in black. I assumed that he was the leader of the raiders that had taken us, and was probably the leader of all the fighting men. When we entered, he whispered something to his master, for which he received nodding assent.
The man in black stood up, took a step down from the top of the dais and clapped his hands. Eyes darted to him and the noise in the hall dropped away.
"My Lord," he boomed, in a deep voice, half turning to the seated OverWizard, " and men: the evening’s entertainment is here."
We were then noticed for the first time. Whistles and cheers greeted us, but there was no mirth in their sound. Rather, their laughs were filled with an excitement that suggested lust. Accompanied by this sound, we were pushed and jostled by our guards until brought to a halt about half-way to the dais. There, we were punched and clubbed until all of us knelt. Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, I found myself actually paying attention to my surroundings.
Smiling, the man in red held up his goblet for a refill. When he spoke, his voice was rich and carried easily through the hall. His tone betrayed a high level of breeding and education.
"I know that you have all been through a difficult time," he began, still smiling. He took a long drink. "But it will get worse." The hall erupted with laughter. The OverWizard kept the same friendly smile on his face. The leader of his fighters, however, remained impassively staring at us, his arms folded.
"You may be wondering why you have been brought to this hall," the OverWizard began, "and I won’t keep you in suspense any longer." The fighters applauded, their laughs intended as jeers. "It’s really quite simple: all I require of you is a story. Just tell me about yourself, and what brought you to be on this caravan." He paused, looking knowingly at his men. "Then we can determine how best you can serve us." More laughter from the men and a growing certainty that people’s lives were at stake.
"Now, then," the OverWizard continued,"it has been brought to my attention that, at the time of your recruitment, two of you impeded my men in the tasks that I had given them." Mock boos and hisses from the fighters. "Now, in all fairness, I can’t let that sort of thing go without some sort of reprimand. After all, you will all have to have a good working relationship with your guards - I mean .... protectors .." and the room dissolved into drunken laughter, "so I shall just have to make sure you understand that no one should do that again. You there .... step forward."
I was aware of some movement and, against my better judgement, looked. It was Korstel, pale and nervous, who walked a few paces forward. Again I rebelled against my own plan of action and took notice of those with me; Mysharien was there, too, eyes alert to everything around us. I let my awareness fade again, although not completely.
"Tell me about yourself," the OverWizard said. When Korstel looked confused, the OverWizard gestured encouragement.
Well, your ...Honour? My Lord? I be a carpenter from the west. I been a carpenter all me life 'cause that’s all I be knowing how to do. But time’s’ve not been too good - in the west, I mean, on account of there not being so much building and all, so we a’thought that we should move out here to the east where there’s new towns and all. I mean, I’ve got to feed me family and all, so we saved for .. Well, anyway, we got enough money to pay for this passage and ... Well, my Lord, I love my family and when I saw this ruffian - begging your Lordship’s pardon - but when I saw him dragging off my
A wave from the golden goblet cut short Korstel’s speech.
The OverWizard, took another drink, called for a refill and smiled at Korstel. "You defended the honour of your daughter and fought, unarmed, against one of my less disciplined warriors. However, all women are my property and my men’s, so you actually defied me . That was rather rash, wouldn’t you say? Starting tonight, your daughter will do service in the barracks. As will your wife. And your son." The OverWizard leaned back in his chair, still wearing the same amiable smile. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the hoots of the crowd. "And you’ll be there to watch. Take him away. You there ... step forward."
One of the caravan guards walked out of the group, nervously looking about him.
"Ah yes, one of the guards," the OverWizard began, still keeping his smile fixed. However, by now, we were learning not to trust it. "You know, I can always use an extra man with a sword. I expect to have some problems with the Emperor’s army soon, that’s why we’re building all these walls. So, how about it? Will you join me?"
The guard looked about him wildly, suppressing an insane desire to laugh, not believing his good fortune. He nodded vigorously.
The OverWizard smile changed, taking on a harder line. "The trouble is, you did not do anything to defend your caravan. That was your job, wasn’t it? To fight against nasty bandits like my villainous crew here. So how can you be trusted to defend me?" Suddenly his mood shifted and he was dangerously furious. "Do you expect me to lay my trust in you? To endanger my sacred mission to overthrow the empire by letting you stab me in the back when I most need you?" For a long moment he stared at the guard and at us, then he calmed down and restored the smile to his face. "There is cliff not far from here and packs of wolves and jackals know to go there, because now and then they receive a free meal. At other times, they hunt in the hills around here, making it difficult for anyone to escape. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be going there for breakfast. Take him away. You there ... step forward."
The chief cook, a stout and severe woman well past her prime but still active, stood up and walked forward. There was an angry glint in her eyes and determination in her step. She walked up to the very steps of the dais, so close that the man in black uncrossed his arms and came alert. The smile on the OverWizard’s face froze.
"So, you’re the cook. Cooks are useful. The wagon master - who can’t join us tonight, I’m afraid - said that you’re quite good. As a cook, I mean. Well, tell us a story about yourself."
Without saying a word, the cook reached up and untied the ribbons holding her hair up. Golden tresses, streaked with grey, dropped around her shoulders. She tossed them into an arrangement around her head. The OverWizard’s expression changed to a mock sadness, and he sighed for effect.
"Oh, dear me. Don’t tell me that you’re going to go through some grotesquely obscene begging ritual."
No. I just wanted a more solid reminder of who I used to be. You see, many years ago, when I was much younger, I was quite ... well, I had many suitors before I chose my husband. And even after I bore him three children, I was still the best looking woman in the region. And I was happy: my life could not have been better. I had maids and servants and tutors for my children. Oh, I had a life that most of these rejects you call you men would have only known about from their dreams - if their miserable consciences ever let them sleep.
But, that all changed one day. Bandits came into our town, so many that they overran the garrison. And then, they had their fun. I won’t tell you what it was like, because I know that’s what you and your parasites want to hear ...
"My dear woman, you really should control your vehemence. Some of my men are quite sensitive and ..."
... but at the end of it, my family was dead, even the children, and all our assets destroyed. I was taken by the leader of this gang to be his woman. It was two years before I managed to push a dagger into his eye and escape. By that time I had nothing, and nowhere to go. My life has been an abomination from that point, and I still have nightmares about some of the things that I’ve had to do to survive.
No, I’m not about to beg ...
"A pity, but I’ll still take you as a cook."
You see, these things you call your men, they’re just like the animals that took my life away. How you can do those things, I can’t understand. Killing innocent people who have not only done you no harm, but are unlikely to do any even after you’ve stolen their goods. And to do it all so casually, and then expect the victims to forget as easily as you do.
No, perhaps I was wrong to call you animals, because even the dumbest, most vicious animals have a limit. But the worst one, the lowest of them all is the thing that gives them their orders.
She moved quickly for her age, or perhaps it was just the suddenness with which she exploded into motion, but she pulled a knife out of her dress and was up the first two steps before the man in black reacted. Then, in a blur of motion, his sword flew out of its sheath and he tensed for a leap.
"No, Danil," the Overwizard said calmly. "Leave her to me." He made a grabbing motion in the air with his left hand, clenching his fist at the end of the move. The cook ran into an invisible force that stopped her only one pace from her target. Then with a wild smile on his face and a deliberate calmness in his actions, he opened his hand. Red light suddenly flared near the cook’s chest, so brightly that the OverWizard had to turn away. The cook’s body was hurled back down the hall, as if a giant hand had swatted her aside. She fell heavily just in front of us.
Mysharien suddenly straightened, his body straining to move. "He’s got real power," he hissed in an effort to whisper. "Real power. I can feel it."
I looked across at him, then back at the man on the golden chair. Yes, he had real power. My interest was up several levels, now, even though I tried to detach myself from the scene.
On the dais, the wizard relaxed, lazily stretching his legs. "Now that was almost entertaining. When she wakes up, her mind will be mostly gone, but she’ll still cook a great meal. I think we’ll keep her for a while. Oh, I do hope more of you have got that kind of spirit: I could use some more laughs. You there ... step forward."
Me! He was pointing at me! At last.
I rose to my feet and walked forward, past the crumpled body of the cook, to the place where Korstel had stood. The OverWizard fixed his smile on his face.
"Another of the guards who fought with such distinction. Well, have you a story for me?"
I said nothing.
"Oh, come, come. Do you need a prod?"
A sharp pain stabbed me in my bottom, making me flinch. Still, I kept quiet.
"If you were any less entertaining, we’d all go to sleep. Do you know that I can crush your head like a melon?" I felt enormous pressure build up around my head. The pain became so great that I dropped back to my knees. "Of course, then someone would have to clean up the floor, but it’ll be worth it to see if there’s anything in there."
"NO!" I recognised Mysharien’s voice, heard his feet moving quickly past me. The pressure dropped away. "My Lord," Mysharien continued, bowing deeply, "this man is a healer, and a very good one. Spare him and let me tell my story in his place." He was still being heroic, damn him. I had been so close!
"Oh, how very noble of you," the OverWizard replied. "We’d get to you soon enough, but, all right, you can amuse us for a while."
(story continues)