Songweaver

2. the South Road

Chapter 2 The South Road"You're going to have to do it."

"We are all going to do it. The two of you are as deep in this as I. You both have as much to lose." Rassler became angry with Gael and Weller for putting all the pressure on him.

"We can't just walk in there with a 'how to do' and slit her throat," Weller was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had moved.

"Yur fine with sellin skin to pirates, but you draw da line at killn. Yur a coward."

"Fine, Gael, you do it!"

"Aye be doin it, but they aint lettn no Dwarf in the castle."

"Shut up, you two, let me think." Rassler took a swig of his rum. "There are plenty that can do it. I think it should appear like an accident. I don't want anything coming back to us for any reason."

Gael signaled for another round. "Wez bestn be nowheres near when it be happnin."

"I agree," said Weller.

"No, it would look suspicious if all three of us were gone. I can work out a plan so none of us are near. Each one of us should have a rock solid alibi."

"Besn be a granite one," said Gael.

"It will be. Gael hire one of the best." With that Rassler stood and placed his left hand on his cheek. The black ring he wore flashed in the light of the tavern—a sign that one was a member of the Black Legion. His drinking companions did the same. He then bowed to his colleagues and left.

The air outside the Red Mule tavern was muggy and warm. After only a few paces Rassler began to sweat. No breeze blowing through the streets. The smell of horse dung and human urine wafted into Rassler's nostrils. "What a worthless hole this town is. How can Gael live in this cesspool?" Rassler removed his cloak and headed into the night.

• • • •

"She's a witch, kill her!" the toothless man shouted.

The column of flame rising high out of the campfire didn't hurt anyone, simply a distraction, a way for Shariana to be loose of the men that held her.

Distracted by the huge column of flame, both of them lost their grasp and Shar ran straight for her toothless opponent. The Songweaver's feet left the ground and in a half ball-half dive she slammed into the man with all her weight. Shar doubted she weighed half of him, but it was enough to throw him off balance and catapult her into the darkness of the trees. Once in the safety of the dark, while circling the camp, Shariana broke into song.

…She was a witch and to kill her,

You have to find her first,

…Only once you have her spirit,

You must satisfy your thirst…

A silly lullaby, one Shariana was creating in her head while she sang. Bardic magic didn't need a specific ballad or a certain tempo or beat. The trick was in lacing the spell in the chant, not the song itself.

Shire Reeve screamed, "Cover your ears! She'll kill us all…" And then he fell face first into the ground, as did all the other men at the campsite. Many of them were snoring so loud to drown out the rest of Shariana's song.

She walked back into the firelight, "Well, that was easier than I had thought."

At first Shar didn't feel the knife pierce her arm. The scream of the woman next to her told Shar she had a problem. When she turned to see what happened, her attacker made another lunge. Dodging in time, the knife cut through the front of Shar's clothing.

"Only works on men, ya stupid bitch."

How could Shariana be so careless. The Songweaver didn't check to see if there were any women in the toothless man's party. From the blood soaked sleeve clearly there was.

She was a big woman, taller than Shar and had her by at least five stone in weight.

"Attacked me from behind. You've no honor, no soul." Unarmed and bleeding, unable to get to her weapons, Shariana chose the next best option, a burning log from the fire. She hoped perhaps one of the women or even a child would knock her opponent in the head with something, but everyone still awake froze in fear.

"Do you think we can call it even and you leave now?"

"You won't be cracking jokes when I gut you like a goblin. You knocked my man's teeth out."

Despite the circumstances, Shariana laughed, "You married that?"

The woman made a horrid noise and lunged at the Songweaver. Shar managed to sidestep the thrust, but then the woman swung in a wide arc and caught Shar again in the other arm.

"Now you have ruined both sleeves."

The thrust and parry went on for some time. Shariana was making jokes, but she had to end this fight before either the noise woke up the men or she passed out because of blood loss.

The Songweaver's head started to spin, she felt faint. Her legs felt heavy and she began to stumble.

"Fight's almost over. My man gonna be real happy when he sees your head on a stick."

"Gruesome… You…" Shar no longer had the strength to joke. She fell to one knee. Shariana saw the gleam of the knife shining in the firelight. She knew only one thing to do, "Safir!"

The horse ripped its reins off the back of the wagon and bolted to Shariana. The woman with the knife, turned to see the horse at a full gallop as it charged. With all its weight Safir knocked the woman into the fire. Shariana watched as the woman caught ablaze and ran screaming into the darkness. Then the Songweaver remembered nothing.

• • • •

"Umph!" Shariana was once again pinned, her back against the wooden boards of a cart. On top of her was a heavy and smelly man in dirty white robes. "Will someone get this off me?"

"Mom! She's awake." The young girl next to Shar looked like she had not had a bath in a month. She was full of grime and dirt, leaves in her hair, an unsightly mess as far as young ladies go.

"Help me."

Between the young girl pulling and Shar pushing they could roll the lard sack they called a priest off. Shar now smelled like a sweaty man. Disgusting. The Songweaver's wounds were bandaged. Since the priest was still asleep under her spell, Shar assumed one of the women had cared for her injuries.

"Safir!" Shar's four legged friend answered her call with a whinny and poked her head into the back of the cart.

The woman driving the cart yelled back, "That horse saved your life."

"Not the first time."

"She is a beautiful horse," the young girl said.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Ursa."

"Ursa is a pretty name."

"What happened to my dad?" She pointed to a man in the front of the cart fast asleep.

"He'll be fine, Ursa. He's sleeping."

"What happened to him?"

"Magic. I cast a spell on him and the other men."

The young girl looked shaken, "Evil magic! Are you a witch?"

"No, I am not a witch or a wizard." Shar readjusted herself, staying away from the sleeping men and downwind from this filthy child.

"Magic is not evil. But people do wield magic for evil deeds."

"My papa says all magic is evil and the women who use it are witches."

"Well, your father is wrong. I use spells, and I am not evil or a witch."

"That charm that you wear. It's magic too, right?"

"It is."

"I knew it! I saw it glow right before the fire exploded."

"It is called an Emberstone."

"What does it do?"

"With it I can cast magic on any fire. I can make fires bigger or smaller. Or keep a fire burning, even under water."

The young girl squealed, "Do you have more magic?"

"I might. That's enough questions for now." The young girl heard Shar say it, but ignored her and kept talking.

"I took this off one of the bad men." She raised the object to Shariana's face. A black obsidian ring.

"Son of a mongrel. Slavers." Shar's past came flooding back like a river in a wild torrential rainstorm, a past she immediately shook out of her brain.

"Ma'am, ma'am!"

"Ah, awake, I see, wonderful. Can you rouse the men?"

"Um… No. They have to wake up on their own." Shar climbed to the front of the cart, "You can let me off here. I have to go back to your campsite."

"Not a good idea. Those nasty men may still be there."

"I know. They're Slavers and they need to be stopped."

The woman took a sidelong glance, "You mean, killed."

"Well… Yes."

"No. I'm not stopping the cart and you aren't going back."

Shar thought of jumping off the wagon on Safir. The wagon was moving slower than walking speed. Something told her not to, a feeling that she should stay with the group, at least for now.

Shar moved to the back to sit as close to Safir as she could. The little girl moved up-front to sit in the seat next to the woman, leaving Shariana in the back to listen a caterwauling of snores.

• • • •

Rassler looked at the tally of the latest 'shipment'. "Only twenty-two?"

"Yes, sir. Seven escaped when we were ambushed in the Great Forest. Those damn Tinkers."

"Did you lose any of your men to the Tinkers?"

"No, sir, not to the Tinkers. However, we did lose one man."

"How?"

"A Dwarf, sir."

"A Dwarf?"

"Yes, sir. Just as we left the Great Forest."

"Wait," Rassler stopped cinching his horse, "You had, what? A twenty-armed escort and you lost a fight with one Dwarf? A surprise attack I suppose."

The guard captain didn't want to tell the whole story. It would prove embarrassing at the least and likely lethal if it raised Rassler's anger.

"Well, man, speak up."

"No, sir, not an ambush."

"Then what!" Rassler's infamous temper was beginning to build.

"Well… He was standing on the trail. We almost ran him down. He was dressed like a woodcutter."

"A woodcutter took one of your men."

"I don't know what he was, sir. He told us to let the slaves go. The men laughed. That's when he stuck an axe in one of the cart drivers."

"And the rest of you did what? You couldn't kill one little Dwarf."

"Couldn't find him, he ran into the woods and disappeared."

Rassler pondered this new obstacle for a moment. "If you know what he looks like, put a bounty on his head. Twenty gold crowns, dead or alive."

"Sir, we need the Queen's approval for that. He needs to have committed a crime."

"Treason, always a good choice." Rassler hoisted himself into the saddle, "Charge him with treason."

"Sir, should we make another trip down south?"

"No. The Tinkers are causing too much trouble." Rassler turned his horse to leave, "There is an easier target."

• • • •

"No, we will continue as planned. This marriage arrangement has already taken far too much time. I won't waste any more days debating."

"But your Highness, they have assembled in remonstration of your wedding in Allond. Rumors say they will come here as well."

"They're bellyaching out of worry. You know as I do that joining the two kingdoms would cause all the cities to flourish and prosper. The people don't understand and they are afraid of change."

"Yes, your Majesty," Rassler paused for a moment, wanting to choose the right words to possibly sway the Queen's decision. "Perhaps we should postpone a moon or two, until the people calm down. I think it—"

"No." The Queen cut Rassler off, "I will wait no longer. Send a messenger to Allond. Tell the King we will continue as planned. On the next gold moon, we will be wed."

"Yes of course, your Majesty."

Rassler left the Queen in her chambers. "She's as stubborn as her father was."

Rassler was making money selling slaves, both north and south. He had to send some of the profits to the Black Legion. Even with that he was making a small fortune. The agreement was the Legion would take forty percent of the funds. Rassler had however been skimming from the income since this undertaking started and the Black Legion was only getting, at best, ten percent of the money. The rest was going right back into the pockets of Rassler and his two partners, making all three of them rich men.

"Rassler, sir! A message from the King for you."

The note was contained in an envelope and fixed with the King's seal. Only rather than red wax, the person who sealed the document used black. Rassler knew the message was not from the King but instead it was from Weller, the King's emissary and one of Rassler's partners.

The note read;

Gael has assigned the task.

A fortnight.

Watch for the Blood moon.

Weller

Rassler crumpled the paper and ate it, making sure no one would accidentally discover the letter. His snack finished with a loud, obnoxious belch, and with a smile on his face, he walked down the corridor.

• • • •

"I know she's hurt. But, look at the trouble she caused. I want her gone."

"Please wait till she's well enough to travel. If you send her out into the wild, alone and hurt she may not survive."

"One more day, and then she's gone."

It was impossible not to hear the argument. Another impossibility was to not know the heated debate was about Shariana.

"Excuse me. I overheard your a… Discussion. I'm not badly injured. I'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Fine." The large pot belly man strode off.

"Don't mind him, sweetheart, he's just upset at what happened. Please eat something. Then you can curl up in that wagon. You need to keep those cuts off the cold ground."

"I understand." Shar did get it. She did, but she found their anger misguided. Shariana was simply defending herself.

Shar slept little. The throbbing in her wounds, the cramped quarters of the wagon and a growing fear that this trip wasn't right, kept Shar's mind racing and her body aching. She could not wait for sun up so she could leave this family and get back to the business of making money. Shariana was packed and ready when the sun began peeking over the horizon.

The young girl tugged at Shar's clothes, "You're going?"

"You're up early, little one."

"Dada gets up to feed the horses. I woke up too."

A man is already up. That means it's time to leave.

"Wait, young lady, don't you wish to stay for breakfast?"

"No thank you, ma'am. May the god's graces shine on you and your kin."

The big belly man walked towards Shar, "Not staying?"

Gritting her teeth from pain, Shar lifted herself into the saddle, "Let's go, Safir."