* * * * *
Sasha thought about Legon’s proposal. There was more to this invite than just a pleasant outing, she could see it. Legon could mask his feelings well from most people, but not her. “Yeah that works great,” she said, smiling.
“Good,” he said with a slightly relieved smile. He spooned some soup into his mouth.
“Wow, Sash, you really are something else! This is amazing!”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” She could see that this reaction was the truth. He did like the soup, which was saying something - Legon hated mushrooms. After lunch Legon and her father went back to the shop. Sasha stayed in the house cleaning up.
She was trying to figure out what was on Legon’s mind. He seemed tense when he had asked her to go on a picnic. She had tried to use one of their hand gestures to figure out what was wrong, but he had only told her to wait. She didn’t like waiting, not when her brother was holding back from her. There could have been a thousand reasons why he was hesitant, but she couldn’t think of one that made sense.
The rest of the day and night passed without incident. Sasha was having a harder time sleeping than before, and she could hear in the room next to her that Legon was too.
By eleven the next day she had lunch prepared and was wrapping two glasses into cloth so they wouldn’t break. She heard the front door open.
“Hey Sash, are you ready?” came Legon’s voice.
“Yep, I’ve got the food, the cedar, and this time the glasses.” She held up the cloth-covered glasses and smiled.
Their mother was sitting at the table scribbling something on paper and she looked up. “’This time’? You two haven’t been drinking from the bottle have you?”
“What are you talking about mom? You know you can’t work and listen at the same time,” Legon said.
“Sorry dear, you’re right. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. I know you two wouldn’t do that,” she said, looking back down at her paper.
* * * * *
Legon saw Sasha give him a thumbs-up. It was good she wasn’t paying full attention to them or they would be getting a lecture about drinking out of the bottle right now. It was a pet peeve of hers. Sasha nodded toward the back door and Legon walked over to her and out of the house. They were greeted by the smell of all the fields in full bloom. The sun was out and the sky was clear. She was wearing a bright white top with her hair pulled back. The white cloth seemed to make her cheeks glow. She was on his right and the basket with food was slung around her right shoulder.
“Do you want me to carry that?” he asked
“Yes, thank you,” she said with a smile, passing him the basket. He placed it on his left shoulder.
They were entering the woods and he felt the air get cooler as the smell of the woods intensified. It was a nice smell, and he liked it better than the smell of town. It was funny that he only noticed that the town had a scent to it when he left it and was surrounded by a new smell. “There is so much around us we don’t see until we leave it,” he thought. They were climbing the hill to their favorite spot. When they broke through the trees, they saw the town in full swing. Little lines of wispy smoke rose from most of the buildings, as well as the thick greasy line that was Kovos’ and Brack’s smith. They sat down on the grass and began to pull out lunch. Sasha unwrapped the glasses and uncorked the cedar.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now, or do I have to wait?” she asked pleasantly.
Legon sighed. He figured it was better to get this over with now than later.
“Yeah, we can get to it. Listen, I can’t be in this territory anymore. My best chance at not being noticed is going someplace where no one knows me or this town. That means that it will be rare that I can visit here. My life could get dangerous and I want to protect everyone, including you, from that.”
Her eyes narrowed and a crease crossed the space in between. “Ok, that makes sense. So what’s the part I’m going to have a hard time with?”
“I want you to come with me. Now wait—hear me out,” he said as she pulled back from him. “Look, we both know what’s going to happen next spring. I was originally going to try and get money here before taxes, but that isn’t going to work. Furthermore, you aren’t safe here. I have no choice but to leave, and unless you want to be a slave or be killed by some idiot here, you don’t have a choice either,” he said, trying to be calm and reassuring in his tone.
The look on her face was blank. He could see her body becoming more and more rigid. He knew she was upset with him.
“So what, I come with you and then what? What do we become? Legon, don’t you get it? I will be seen as a freak everywhere I go. Nobody will ever want me as a wife and I will never be able to support myself. You’ll be stuck with me. I won’t let you throw your life away!” she said angrily, but by the end there was sadness in her voice. It tore at him knowing the pain she felt, but that’s why she needed to come. That was why he needed to be with her—to protect and shield her from the sorrows of the world.
“Look, we would be going someplace new and people won’t know anything about you, so you could be a seamstress or something. We can keep it quiet. Also, I’m not throwing my life away. I have to keep my head down until I find out what I’m going to end up being. Look, my way has more danger than I want you in, but staying here is worse. You are not going to be hurt by someone in town, nor are you going to become a slave. Do you get me?”
* * * * *
Sasha heard the resolve in his voice. She did ‘get him.’ The tone in his voice made it clear that if she stayed he would too, and when the day came that the collectors came for her, he would die fighting them off. She didn’t have a choice, and in truth she did want to go with him. She knew that there was going to be a high chance of danger and she understood that he didn’t want her in it, but he didn’t have a choice.
“Ok, fine. You made your point. When do we leave?” She was surprised at how it made her feel better.
Legon leaned over and hugged her tightly, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you, Sash.”
She laughed. “Thank you for what? Why are you hugging me? You had to know I would give in.”
“Yeah I knew, but I thought I was going to have to fight you for awhile and pull the ‘mom and dad think it’s a good idea’ card on you. Now we can actually have a nice lunch.”
“The mom and dad card, huh? So you talked to them about it, did you?” It was no surprise that they would gang up on her, she thought wryly.
He didn’t respond, instead pouring the cedar into the glasses and handing her one.
* * * * *
Legon could feel the tension between them drop. It was nice to sit at the top of the hill looking out over the town, eating lunch. As he thought this, a slight shiver ran up his spine. Not too long ago he had looked out over this town in pitch black and seen everything. He knew now that it must have been the Elven side of him that night. The thing that confused him was why he was having dreams with the black dragon. After all, he was part Elf, not Iumenta, and that meant that he should belong to the good brother, not the bad.
“I’m going to talk to Kovos today and tell him that I’m going to head away from the Salez territory and that you’re coming with me.”
“Ok. Do you still think that he will want to go with us?”
He took a sip of cedar. “I think he will, but I want his input on what part of the empire he wants to live in. I think he’ll want to go to the south where it’s warmer. That could be good for us too, in case we need to leave the empire.”
Sasha paused for a moment as she thought. “That’s good. If we get into trouble we will be closer to the Elves, and the people in that part of the empire aren’t as loyal to the queen.”
“Good. I’m glad we agree on that. Let’s pack up. I want to find Kovos,” Legon said as he stood up.
“You should tell him about your tattoo. He needs to know everything if he’s coming with us. He
’s earned that right.” Legon nodded and reached down to help her up.
They walked back down to the house. As soon as they could see it, Legon headed off toward Kovos’. He moved quickly and with a bounce in his step. The thought of having Sasha with him made the future seem a bit less doubtful.
It didn’t take him long to get to the smith. When he entered he found Kovos and Brack hard at work. He was surprised to see Kovos working on what looked like a sword.
“What are you working on?” Legon yelled over the persistent roar of the furnace.
“I’m making myself a sword… I don’t want to put up with you anymore…sorry man.” Kovos gave him a wicked smile.
Legon laughed. “Shouldn’t you learn how to use it first?”
Kovos was a much better swordsman than him, and he knew that if they ever got into a real sword fight he would lose. Kovos didn’t have a sword of his own; he always used his father’s. The one Kovos was making looked to be a hand and half broadsword. He could see that the blade was almost done and that he was putting the finishing touches on the edge.
Legon had always had a hard time thinking of a broadsword as a ‘blade’, because they weren’t incredibly sharp. They could cut through an arm or leg that wasn’t protected by chainmail, but the blades could not be as sharp as a knife because they would chip in a fight, and even then it would take incredible strength to go through chainmail and plate armor. They could pierce leather armor, but it was the force behind the blow that did the work. The only truly sharp part of the blade was the tip, but other than that they were about as sharp as an axe.
Kovos was running the new blade across a grinding stone and seemed to be happy with it. He held it out for Legon to inspect. He was impressed right away. The sword’s handle was wire wrapped, the hilt was cross shaped, and the pommel was a large ball that could be used to hit your opponent. All in all it was a fine weapon. He turned it in his hands, feeling the balance of the blade. The weight was good and the blade was straight. Kovos had gone above and beyond by etching flames up the flat side of the blade.
“Flames? Are you serious?” Legon asked.
Kovos took the sword and inspected it. “Is there something wrong with them? Did I mess one up?” He almost held the sword against his face as he looked for the mistake.
“Yeah, you put flames on it. I mean, it was fun to put on wooden staves when we were kids, but flames on a real sword? You have got to be kidding me. Are you planning on your opponent laughing to death?” Legon was smiling at Kovos.
“I hate you. Now what do you want?”
“We need to talk.”
“Whoa there buddy. I don’t mean to sound rude, but I just see you as a friend. Sorry, I don’t go that way. Sasha will be so heartbroken when she finds out . . .” Kovos began, trying to look like he was wary of Legon.
“Shut up! I don’t mean like that!” Legon shook his head but gave a small laugh.
Kovos laughed. “Let me tell dad I’m stepping out.”
Kovos walked over to Brack and said something Legon couldn’t hear, and he doubted Brack heard either as the man pointed over to a set of clamps and nodded his head vigorously. For a moment, it looked like Kovos was going to try and tell his dad that he was stepping out again, but then decided otherwise. He motioned for Legon to go out the back door. The new sword gleamed in the sunlight, and Legon had to admit that, flames or not, it did look good. Inwardly he thought, “It’s a good thing he has that. We may need it in the months to come.”
* * * * *
Kovos looked at his friend. “So what’s up?” Now in the light it was obvious that there was something wrong. He could see that Legon was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.
“Come on, what’s up?” he asked again. Legon started to talk.
“You know that tattoo on my back?”
“Yeah, the strange looking thing?”
“Yeah… well, take a quick look at it.”
Kovos frowned and motioned for Legon to turn around. He came and lifted up the back of his shirt. He looked where the dark green tattoo was supposed to be and felt his breath catch in his chest. He looked harder at the now purple mark, as if by doing this it would somehow change its appearance. For a fraction of a second he thought Legon was playing a joke on him, but the look on his face told him this was no joke.
“What did that? Please don’t tell me magic.”
Legon’s answering silence told him more than he wanted to know. He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, the same he got every time he’d gotten in trouble as a little kid.
“Ok, lay it on me.”
Legon relayed the story to him, a story that, if he hadn’t just seen the purple tattoo, he wouldn’t have believed. He heard about Legon being part Elf and his dead mother, what he might turn into, and way more than his mind could wrap itself around at the moment. At the end, Legon appeared to be feeling better. Kovos rolled the new information around in his mind. He needed more time to think about this. He thought that paying Emma a visit might help.
“Ok, so how does this affect me?” he asked.
“Sasha is going to come with me when I leave. You were right—anything that might happen to me and her on the road is better than what will happen if she stays here. How it affects you is this: I understand if you don’t want to go with us, and if you do, we would like to go somewhere south, but if that doesn’t work for you then…” he said, tapering off.
He was surprised by the pleading look on his friend’s face. Legon was tough, and if he was this upset he must be expecting the worst. Kovos knew Legon would go to any length to protect Sasha, and would go south regardless of what he had to say about it. He also felt worried at the look on Legon’s face. If Legon was scared or worried about something then it had to be bad. A visit to Emma was definitely in order. Kovos only felt a moment’s hesitation in his head.
“The story you just told me is one of the most messed-up things I’ve ever heard, and a smart man would tell you to shove off, but . . .”
Legon interrupted, “But you’re not a smart man.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not. You’re my best friend, and if it’s a question of sticking with you, then you know the answer.” Kovos smiled and stretched his arms. “I think I’m going to enjoy the warmer weather in the southlands. And I hear the women wear fewer clothes down there.”
Legon laughed. “They do not, and even if they do, I doubt it’s the ones you want.”
Kovos chuckled. This was probably true. “I’m going to get back to work. We’ll talk later about when we’re going to leave. I won’t tell anyone about your freaky back, don’t worry.” As he said this he turned and walked back into the shop.
As Legon headed home he felt better. For the first time he felt a slight edge of excitement come over him at the thought of the adventure that Sasha, Kovos, and himself were soon to have.
Chapter Seven
The Hunt
“Our instincts keep us alive and out of trouble, but sometimes they are wrong. Sometimes they lead us away from trouble that is good for us and others. The question is this: When is it a good idea to trust those instincts? Certainly they aren’t always wrong; if anything they are rarely wrong, but then again, that depends on your definition of right.”
-Tales of the Traveler
Kovos’ feet hit the ground hard. He looked up into the smiling face of Emma in the window. Her sable hair was playing around her face in the dawn breeze. He couldn’t see her brown eyes, but he knew they were looking right at his. Even at this time in the morning with almost no light, her smile made his heart leap a bit. He waved and got on his way. These little visits they had were nice. There was something about waking up next to her that he loved, and there was the excitement of her parents being in the room next door. Emma’s dad hated Kovos with every ounce of his being, and if he knew that once a week or so Kovos was spending the night with his daughter he would probably try to kill him.
That wasn??
?t why Kovos went over, though. There was something about Emma; she was always in his head. He knew she was probably “the one”, and that scared him just a bit. He was leaving soon and wasn’t sure she would join him. He thought she would, but he had been too much of a coward to ask last night, and it would have been perfect. She had told him that she loved him right before they fell asleep. He should have asked then, but he couldn’t change that now. It didn’t help that her parents didn’t like him, but Kovos’ father had gotten over that hurdle back when he was courting. He had been shot in the arm with an arrow while running away from his now father-in-law. Kovos hoped that wouldn’t happen with him.
No one was up yet, so he was a little surprised to hear the sound of horses in the street. As he turned the corner he saw five of the queen’s soldiers on horseback, presumably looking for a place to rest.
One of the men called out to him. “Hey you, come over here.”
He did as he was told. The man’s face was a blur to Kovos. The sun was coming up right in front of him. “What can I do for you?” he asked sincerely. He didn’t fear the queen’s men. He was a good fighter; he also didn’t think they had a reason to bother him.
“We’re here looking for a man about your age,” the soldier said menacingly.
There was a hint of hesitation in Kovos’ voice when he spoke this time. “Ok, can you tell me his name or what he looks like?”
“We don’t know his name or what he looks like, but we’ll know him when we see him. Do you have any tattoos?”
“No,” said Kovos, his mind racing to figure out what these men were up to.
“I don’t believe you. Take off your shirt.” As he said this, another one of the soldiers who’d circled behind him reached out and started to pull at his shirt. Kovos pulled away, taking the garment off on his own. He was mad now. “Who do they think they are?” he thought to himself.
“Whoa there, buddy. You keep this up and you’re going to have to buy me dinner.”
“Shut up,” said the soldier with a sneer. “Is there anything there?” he asked the soldier behind Kovos. The other soldier shook his head.
“Well then, I guess you’re not who we’re looking for. Do you know anyone who has a tattoo on his back, someone around your age?” asked the soldier.