*****
Since leaving the haunted house behind, Asaryen had remained angry at Juara for quite a while. But if there was something Juara was good at, it was talking to women - especially young and naíve. So Asaryen had finally given in and accepted his apologies and the company had continued their journey towards Kiarra in more or less good spirits again. Once Asaryen had forgiven the warrior she had not been able to keep quiet, babbling about old stories, wraiths and ghosts, and her bravery in the face of the horror. The throbbing pain in Juara’s hand had subsided just a little – and that in turn meant that the pain from his previous injuries raised their ugly head again – but he had not been able to resist smiling at Asaryen’s childish zeal. The path had led them in northern or northwestern direction and just when they had been getting suspicious of ever clearing the thickest woods, they finally had come across a trail that appeared more a road than a path. It had appeared to be a well-used route to a town or a village – hopefully already the outskirts of Kiarra. By the time the evening sun had painted the trees red they had met a traveler from a nearby village, who had told them that Kiarra was still a long way off, but that there was a village at a few hours ride away, and they just might make it there before the nightfall. And so they had decided not to camp in the woods for yet another night but try and make it to the village instead, as none of them could resist a chance to lay their heads on soft inn pillows instead of saddlebags. Not to mention the prospect of proper food. True to his adventurous nature, Juara had already begun to imagine full tankards of tasty village ale as well as other public amusements. Whatever he might be able to use to forget the pain in his hand and body. There might also be a healer available if he got lucky. The news of the village ahead had not settled Amashanae’s mind and she remained worried and alert as always. She eagerly awaited a change to sleep in a bed, but she was also afraid of her dreams coming back. Would they keep her from sleeping once again now that they must be close to locating Tahlthar? If they indeed were she had thought and kept casting looks at Juara, who just seemed immersed in his dreams of ale and the joys of the inn he expected to find.
Sure enough, it was dark already when they reached the village. Furthermore, just half an hour before they arrived it had also started to rain quite hard, and the travelers were quickly soaked to the bone. Large droplets battered them on the last legs of the road, but they held a good pace, eager to find a warm and dry inn to rest in. The cloth wrapped on Juara’s injured hand was wet with both blood and rainwater, and although it still throbbed and hurt he now just joked about it, anxious to get some soothing drinks in.
The village was not very big. There were a few dozen buildings surrounding a surprisingly large inn with an intriguing name ‘Maids Gale’ carved on the plaque handing over its doorway, well visible to any traveler right after entering the village grounds. There were a couple of shops near the inn, a small barracks-type building and a blacksmith’s. When they passed the gates the travelers were barraged with various sounds of the village. The shops had already closed, but in the barracks, soldiers could be heard singing their battle songs, flagrantly drunk, with no worry of tomorrow. The blacksmith was still hard at work, at least based upon the sounds of hammering and the hum of his furnace audible even through the driving rain as they rode by. Two stray dogs were scampering in a small alley, trying to keep away from the rain and barked at a few mangy cats digging at a pile of garbage looking for something to eat. As they got closer they saw there were a few drunks lurking around the inn door, and to the women’s surprise and Juara’s delight, even a village this small appeared to have harlots trying to lure tired male travelers to separate with a piece of silver or two. Two such girls shouted their invitations at Juara from their windows across the street as they came to the inn, and from Asaryen’s viewpoint it seemed that Juara gave a bit too much attention to them, smiling and nodding his head approvingly.
The wind battered the inn sign that whisked back and forth above their heads as they arrived at the door, and a warm hum of voices emanated from inside, tempting them to step in. They dismounted their horses and a young servant-boy immediately appeared from somewhere, pushing the drunkards farther from the doorway. Juara gave him a couple of copper coins to take care of their horses, warning him that these horses had better find a warm, dry place, food and a good tending to, and they entered the building.
The inn was comparative clean. It was a very common type of ‘better’ inns in Brodérunn, and although full of people – or because of it – it had a very cozy atmosphere. A bunch of peasants were relaxing in one corner after a hard day of work, emptying beer tankards and throwing dice. Some off-duty soldiers were amusing themselves in another corner, drinking what Juara believed to be distilled peach spirits, shouting lewd remarks to a group of harlots who were seductively coquetting beside the stony wall next to the fireplace. An odd pair of travelers – judging by their appearance a sorceress of some arts and a well-clad knight – were sitting in the back with their bags and belongings stacked behind them, as if trying to protect their belongings from possible thieves. A pair of rag-clad beggars aimlessly wandered from one table to the next, hoping to find an abandoned drink, a smoke, or maybe get a few coins for mercy. Several servant girls ran hither and thither, refilling jugs and jars and collecting the payments. There were plenty of other peasants and local people also, standing around with drinks in hand or sitting at tables with a platters of food – or the omnipresent tankards of beer. It seemed like a busy night at the inn. Right next to the door they had just walked through there stood a huge big man with an even larger jaw, a doorman and a guardian to keep the patrons at check, and right behind him there was a small group of bards playing happy songs that hardly could be heard over the general chatter of voices and laughter. From the kitchen behind the bar floated a scent of stew and roasted beef which brought water to their tongues, and behind the bar stood the inn-keeper himself, a big, fat man wearing a moustache and cleaning a dirty goblet with a rag.
The buzz of conversation and noise quieted down for a brief moment as the travelers walked in from the shadow at the door, and everyone glanced at them. Most of them also stared at the companions for an uncomfortably long time, it seemed to Amashanae, for it was she who collected the greatest attention. Even soaking wet and covered with a cloak a beautiful elf-woman would drew attention on her anywhere. Also, it was quite rare that an elf would wander in these parts of Brodérunn. Amashanae felt somewhat uncertain of herself. It was not the first time she had walked inside an inn just to realize she would have to make an escape but a few moments later. To her relief, the sound of conversation and chatter continued soon enough, and she let out a sigh. It was just few men staring at her; perhaps it was not unique behavior. And although she had a little inkling of her impact, she hardly realized that a beauty such as hers was hardly ever witnessed around these parts, and even the harlots were visibly jealous of the attention she got despite her appearance in a soggy cloak. There was hardly a man who could forget those deep eyes that seemed to sparkle from beneath the cloak.
The companions made their way to the bar and sat on the stools in front of it. They must have appeared a strange bunch of travelers: a warrior with an injured hand covered with bloody rags, an extremely beautiful elf woman and a young girl that kept looking around her, very curious, as if she had never been to an inn before. Despite their appearance, the innkeeper was not in the habit of asking too many questions from strangers – such inquiries tended to bring more harm than benefit – and he never turned down a customer if they were human. Goblins and such excluded, but those rarely made it into the village alive, if a lone such creature should venture too near.
”Good night, travelers”, he began. ”What may I offer thee? Hungry, perchance? I can get you some good ale just readied last week, and some fresh stew. And if you need a place to stay for the night, I…”
”Is there a healer in the village?” Amashanae rudely interrupted then man, nodding towar
ds his wounded hand.
”Ah, never mind the lady”, Juara said, giving a look that spelled ’I can take care of myself’ to Amashanae, but grimaced with pain as he waved his hurt hand without thinking about it.
”Why, yes, ma’m, a few doors down the street there’s old Geyal, the healer. She can heal even severe injuries.” The innkeeper lowered his voice and gestured Juara to bend closer. “Mind you, she can be a little crazy. Claims to be a clairvoyant, both past and future, she does. Anyhow – not dangerous and she can heal real well. So we don’t mind a little eccentricity, see? You better go see her right away.” The innkeeper straightened his back. “I’ll have the maid ready your rooms while you visit the healer?” he continued, now addressing all of them.
“Did we say we needed a room?” Amashanae asked, well knowing the answer.
“Eh, well, I thought that you looked like that, all wet and tired-looking” the innkeeper blurted out and gestured surrender – clearly a man used to dealing with tired and difficult customers. “But I should have known. Ever since the word got out about the wraith that haunts these woods here, all we’ve been getting is knights and all sort of hot-bloods seeking for adventure and fame, and they need no rooms in their haste to seek their quest. And even if they get a room, they don’t return to pay their bills, so why bother…” he quieted down, performing an exaggerated display of despair like a thespian on stage, turned about and made for the kitchen. Amashanae was amused by the act played by the man and gave a sidelong glance at Asaryen, but Juara stopped the innkeeper before he slipped into the kitchen.
“Hold it! What wraith? Ye would not mean the ghostly maiden in the cabin a day’s journey from the village?”
The innkeeper turned on his heel and stepped back to Juara, eyes gleaming with excitement and almost bellowed out:
”Yes. That very maiden, indeed that maiden! Dozens of good knights have taken on the task of getting rid of the wench, none succeeding. And most have never returned! The house is cursed, cursed I tell you, and there is nothing to exorcise the wraith, it seems. She’s been terrorizing travelers for dozens of lengths around the forest...some claim to have seen her even right here, right near the village!” The innkeeper glanced round, checking his voice and demeanor. Then he confided to Juara and the women in a more quiet voice:
“See, that is why there are hardly any regular travelers around any more, just knights and wizards and warriors of all sorts. Nothing ill implied, sir” he glanced at Juara, bowing his head slightly. “I’m not really complaining, after all, since people fear the wraith the inn is full of people drinking every night – they’re afraid of staying home alone – but I would prefer to cater for rich merchants and salesmen as well.” Then he paused and eyed the three companions. “That’s what you came here for, then, is it? Well be warned, and go and meet thy destiny…but I won’t be serving you no supper on credit, mind you.”
Juara looked at Amashanae, noticing how the elf had a slight smile on her lips, and then he exploded in laughter, even forgetting the pain in his hand for a minute. The innkeeper was taken aback and got serious.
“Mock me not! I speak the truth!” he exclaimed and made to go to the kitchen once again.
“No, wait!” Juara wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.”I did not mean to insult thee, it is simply that we already encountered the pale wench.”
“But you’re alive and well!” the innkeeper blurted, his eye falling on Juara’s hand.
Juara laughed again. “Asaryen, tell the man here what ye did to the ghost!”
“What, me?” Asaryen blushed, but then she picked up her spirits and said:
“I beat her back to the depths she belongs to!” she proclaimed in a loud voice.
“What!” yelled the innkeeper “The curse has been lifted?” he shouted, and with that the whole inn seemed to quiet down and turn to watch the spectacle at the bar. “I don’t believe thee!”
The travelers glanced at each other. Then Juara spoke in an assuring voice that accepted no disbelief.
“Ye may believe us. There will be plenty of travelers and plenty of need for rooms, if that wench was what was keeping them away. For we did, indeed, drive the wraith back to where she belongs. If it was a curse, it is now lifted.” But even if his voice was steady and low, in his mind he saw a glimpse of a moss-covered wall and he felt a cold tingling in his spine. The innkeeper believed his solemn word, and looked at the women.
“That’s right” Asaryen affirmed. “It was about to get Juara here, but I didn’t let her do it. I drove the wench away!” she said with naïve pride in her voice.
“Hear that!” the innkeeper shouted at the people in the inn. “The curse is lifted! Free ale all around!” and begun to lift pints on the desk.
The whole inn seemed to explode with cheers and cries of jubilation.
“Indeed, you have brought the light back to these parts, dear travelers! Drinks and accommodation are on the house for thee!” he continued, all smiles, and brought up pints full of foaming ale. To Asaryen he said:
“You must tell me all about it in a moment. Oh joyous day!” Then he turned his attention to Juara: “You will find the healer a few doors down. The maid here will guide you. Tell her I sent you, and you won’t need to pay for her services.”
Juara touched his sore hand and winced. Then he nodded his thanks to the innkeeper. A waitress brought them goblets of peach drink, giving a very long look at Juara, biting her lip seductively. Juara winked his eye to the girl, grabbed a goblet and gulped it down in one huge gulp. He got up, slammed the goblet on the table and saw Asaryen stare at him with jealousy burning in her eyes.
“Have fun, I am off to see to my hand” he said and followed the maid out of the inn. Another girl appeared to bring goblets for Asaryen and Amashanae as well, and then proceeded to get some stew to feed their growling stomachs. But they hardly got to touch their drinks before people were already on them, asking questions and leering at their new heroes.
Juara stepped out of the inn. He inhaled deep and then clenched his teeth. It truly was becoming quite a pain in his hand. But he would not let the others see his weakness, if possible. Such a dishonor for a warrior of his standing, his self-esteem would not let him show his pain to Amashanae. He sighed. The girl pointed him a house down the street, and rather slowly he started to walk towards its lived. And soon he stood in front of a wooden door almost entirely covered with different amulets and dried herbs – had to be the healer. He lifted his good hand to tap on the door, but the door suddenly creaked open before he touched it.
“Ah, you must be Juara”, an old woman stood in the chink of the door. “Please, step in”
“How do ye know my name?” Juara asked in disbelief as the woman pushed the door completely open and entered the house. The old lady turned about but did not answer. She walked to a large fireplace on the far wall, took a few small bits of wood and threw them into the hungry fire. Juara let his gaze wander around the room. It was the only room in this house; a completely open space right up to the roof. There was a fireplace on the back wall and a sturdy rocking chair stood next to it. There was small table in the middle of the room. The rest of the walls were covered with shelves. On those shelves there were what seemed a thousand bottles of liquid potions, herbs as well as materials Juara did not even want to know what they were. There was a pungent scent of a thousand different herbs in the air, and Juara actually needed to squeeze his eyes a little because of the stench.
“Ah, the name, he asked”, the old lady uttered suddenly. She sat down on her rocking chair, dug a pipe from the folds of her dress and lighted it up, inhaling a long whiff of smoke.
“Yes, how did ye know my name?” Juara inquired again. “I did not give it even at the inn.”
“Old Geyal need no one tell their names” she paused “it is names that tell Geyal”
Juara did not understand but he remembered the innkeeper’s warning that the lady might be a more or less insane. “Alright,
the names will speak to ye, so be it, but ye see, I have this slight inconvenience here. The innkeeper told me that ye can heal…this.” He lifted his bloody rag-covered hand and pointed it to Geyal. The old lady did not say a thing, only inhaled another puff of smoke.
“Well, can ye?” Juara asked.
Geyal inhaled once again slowly let the smoke out. Her eyes gleamed in the light of the fireplace.
“You can show me your pain. Old Geyal cares not about the warrior pride.”
“It is a sign of weakness to show pain.”
“A man can also be considered weak for not showing his agony.”
Juara began to feel irritated, but the pain in his hand only seemed to grow more intense.
“Look, I have lost a finger here. For a warrior it is dishonor enough to have been so wounded...not by blade.”
Geyal did not say a thing but tilted her head and kept smoking her pipe. Juara watched her smoke and gave up his pride.
“Alright, alright. I am weak, I have no honor. Will ye please look this hand as I am suffering a serious pain here!”
Geyal slowly got up and came towards Juara. Still speaking nothing she took him by the hand and led him to the table and made him sit down. Then she gently opened the bloody bandages and revealed the wounded hand. There was a ragged, crimson and dark burned stump where his middle finger should have been, and as the leaves the women had hastily medicated it with came off, there began again a slow, pulsating trickle of thick, dark blood. Juara turned his head away. Geyal got up and walked to the wall, selecting two bottles from one of the shelves. The contents of the other she used to wash the clots of blood and herbs off, but the other she gave to Juara.
“Drink it. It will take some of the pain away. Make sure to get some on the bruises on your lips as well.”
Quickly Juara opened the bottle and emptied it into his mouth. After a short moment the pain begun to fade away in his hand and ribs. Geyal was busy with his hand. Gently she placed various herbs around the wound and poured some other liquid on it from a vial. Juara did not want to watch her maim his flesh as she picked up a small knife, a needle and some thread, but he could feel how she operated on the skin and closed the edges of the wound, finally wrapping it tight with a clean bandage and begun collecting the bloodied and soiled rags from the table.
“Now, I can not give you back your finger, but you will survive. Evil has not set in the wound. It is all taken care of now and it will completely heal within four weeks. Can you live with that, warrior?” she asked while tossing the dirty rags into the fire.
“Um, yes… I…” Juara coughed, lifting his hand from the table, noticing how most of the pain had gone already. “I mean, I thank thee” he bowed his head. Carefully he touched the bandages. It was still sore, but definitely most of the pain was gone.
“Thank ye…” he said again, collecting his thoughts and paused, “…uh, the innkeeper said that I do not need to pay for…” he began, but was interrupted:
“The payment has already been made. Now tell me…” Geyal started with a thoughtful expression, “…would you kindly ask the elf to pay a visit to me.”
Juara stared at the woman, puzzled. “What! How would ye know…” his voice faded. It was probably no use to question Geyal. She might start to babble again about names speaking to her. “Well, I can deliver the message, but she does not really trust anyone. Not me, not …” he paused as Asaryen’s face came to his mind. He did not finish the sentence but said affirmatively: “I will tell her.” With that he turned about and stepped to the door. As he opened it, he heard Geyal speaking softly behind him.
“Juara. Consider your motives. Do not abuse… her. You may think you are doing this all for wealth and venture, but I know there is more to you.”
At the Inn Asaryen and Amashanae were enjoying the inn’s hospitality and the people’s conviviality. Normally two such girls in such an inn –especially when the other happened to be a strikingly beautiful elf – would have had to endure constant unwelcome passes and innuendo. Probably it would not even have been totally safe for them. But this time things were different. They were heroes and treated as warriors. The innkeeper had ordered his staff to provide them with as much drink and food as they desired. They had been taken to the best table in the inn, and the gigantic doorman brute was posted to stand by them to keep their keenest admirers at bay and make sure they had a chance to enjoy their food. All the villagers in the inn came by to congratulate them on their deed or simply thank them. Asaryen took most of the adoration, and she obediently listened to their praise, nodding her thanks in return. The villagers bowed their heads and some even offered them gifts as tribute; a few coins from one and a beautiful necklace carved in bone from another. There was one woman who especially touched Asaryen’s heart, as she came to them tears welling in her eyes, and sobbed her thanks, explaining that not only his dear husband but also both of her sons had vanished in the wraith’s territory and were believed to have been killed. Now she could finally rest in peace, as her loss had been avenged. Asaryen’s eyes also gleamed with tears as she held the woman’s hand and muttered some words of solace back.
After the villagers had all paid their respects and the general jubilation had quieted down somewhat, the pair of travelers they had noticed when they entered the inn approached the women and the knight bowed his head to the women while the young girl addressed them:
“My apologies for intruding your privacy like this, but as it appears you are not of this village as we are neither” – she gestured towards his armoured companion – “we thought we could ask for your permission to join your company as fellow foreigners in these parts? It would be a great honor for us to join the company of such brave travelers as you.” Amashanae hesitated but Asaryen waved them down in an approving gesture and the odd pair sat down at the table. The sorceress was wearing a red robe that was pulled tight at the waist with a rope made of twine. She had various bags and vials hanging on that makeshift belt, and all that quite obviously revealed her profession. Yet she did not appear too well-to do in her line, as her cloak was rather old and worn and she wore no jewelry. Her hair was tied up in somewhat homely fashion, and she would have actually looked like a wizard’s apprentice rather than a sorceress had she not had such a finely ornamented albeit crumpled garment just visible under her robe.
“Certainly, we’re only too happy to make new acquaintances” Asaryen babbled while Amashane was content with nodding her head to the strangers. “Where have you come from, then?”
“Well, as it happens the very reason we both came here was the wraith that was rumored to dwell in the forest here” the girl answered as she slipped on the chair opposite Asaryen. “But let me first introduce myself; I am Elareos, and this Gathor.” The knight was clad in semi-armour and a dark cloak which hid his weapons and revealed only his front and a glistening breastplate with a simple but colorful herald painted on it. It was a typical insignia of a rural family, revealing that the knight actually belonged to no court but was a self-proclaimed warrior of sorts instead. He seemed much less eager to join the conversation, but politely nodded his head at the mention of his name.
“And I am Asaryen; my companion here is Amashanae.”
“It is a pleasure to get to know you! Yes, we both came from the south – our separate ways, though – but we just met here a few hours past. But do tell me whence you have come from, and how did you manage to dispose of that wraith?” and with that the sorceress easily struck rapport with Asaryen and before long they were immersed in vivid discussion. Gathor kept quiet, as did Amashanae, who had finished eating her stew. She did not drink anything but water but just sat there with an empty bowl in front of her and observed the people in the inn cautiously.
After a short while Juara appeared in the doorway, shook his soaked cloak and then headed straight to their table. He sat down and waved the barkeep for ale without uttering a word, and a waitress quickly brought him a large tankard. Juara took a long g
ulp of ale and eyed the girls and the warrior dressed like a knight, who eyed him back suspiciously. If Juara had a felt weakness earlier on, it was all gone now and he was back in his element.
“Well, who do we have here”, he said after assessing the situation, addressing the sorceress first. “Another poor girl to join the party?” he laughed arrogantly.
“This is Elareos” Asaryen said before the girl had time to answer. “She is a wizard and was after the wraith, which I disposed of, and she joined us because she wanted to know how I did that”
“Well I’m not too sure who disposed of the wraith” Juara muttered under his breath and took another sip of his ale and eyed Amashanae. Asaryen made a face at Juara.
“I am a sorceress, not a wizard”, Elareos corrected Asaryen’s introduction. “Albeit I am more like an apprentice without a master. I know many a spell, but I…seem to fail to be successful in conjuring. My intent was to face the wraith, but Asaryen here got to it before we had a chance to try ourselves”, she continued and nodded towards the knight, who was apparently quite peeved for being treated like thin air by Juara. “And probably she saved my life, from what I hear”
“Hah, just what we needed, a useless sorc…Damned!!” he broke his sentence and yelled out loud as the knight, having had enough of such disrespecting treatment, grabbed his bandaged arm and hissed at his face:
“Warrior, indeed! With no respect for the ladies! Who is this vile man?” he stepped up and faced Juara who hunched over his hand in pain. Juara groped for his sword but Amashanae gave him a mighty kick to his leg and rose to land her hand on the knight’s shoulder over the table.
“Let him be. Unfortunate as it might be, he is one of our party and not to be messed with.”
The knight gave Juara an angry look but then he simply bowed to the ladies and turned on his heels and out of the inn.
“Hey! What do you think you are?” Asaryen also jumped up from her chair and shouted at Juara, but Elareos gestured her down and said:
“It is all right. I am used to being ridiculed. I can make myself scarce if you want”, with the last few words spat at Juara.
Amashanae observed the situation looking slightly amused but also sat down. Asaryen stared at Juara with a hurt look in her eyes.
“Now look. I asked her to join us and you have nothing to say about it. If you do not like it, you can always leave. Why do you have to be so mean?”
“Hey… I like some spiciness, peach”, he gave a wink for Asaryen, drank his tankard empty and then turned then to Elareos. “But a im sorry. Where are my manners? I did not understand that ye are a guest of Asaryen here”, he said sarcastically. “Please do continue whatever it was you were doing” he blurted and turned his attention to Amashanae.
“Ye know that healer, Geyal…she truly is insane. Although she took my pain away pretty well, it was very strange indeed.” He showed his new, clean bandage and winced as he saw a fresh drop of blood penetrate it, and glanced behind him to see if the knight would still be around, cursing under his breath. Then he turned back to Amashanae.
“Oh really”, she snapped. “Was the old lady mean to you, poor boy?” she said and laughed.
Juara grinned. “No, my dear elf, but, she did already know my name even if I did not give it to anybody here”
“But what a drag”, Amashanae said in a mock-sympathetic voice. “Some poor girl whose night you have sometime ruined had probably warned her”.
“Well, I fear to think what ye have done for her to know ye too, but she wanted to see ye too. Asked for you especially as well, she did”, Juara said, seemingly glad to break the exchange of wits Amashanae believed he feared he might end up losing. But this was worrying news. Amashanae got very serious and her mouth closed firm. Usually when her name was recognized, it meant problems.
“She asked for me?” she then said in a flat voice.
“Yes. Or, rather, she asked for the elf”, Juara emptied his beer and waved his hand in the air to get another one, “I presumed she meant ye.”
The elf remained serious.
“Where is she now?”
“It is a couple of houses down from here. Can not miss it”, Juara took a long sip from a new tankard that was whisked into his hand. “Ye will recognize her door with ease, a big pile of junk hanging from it… Degran’s Gates! This beer is for nothing! Girl!” he shouted towards the bar: “Some peach spirit for me!”
Amashanae gave a look at Asaryen. “I will have to step out for a while. Please take care that Juara would not drink too much. There is a good change that we need to leave with haste”, she warned the girl. Then she paused and nodded towards Elareos. “I am sorry for this.”
Elareos nodded understandingly, and Amashanae turned and went to the door. When she opened the door she heard how Juara again yelled for more drink, saying that no elf or little girlie will tell him when to stop drinking. Amashanae sighed, hoping that he would not get too drunk and stepped out into the rain.