“It’s Gregory, you blasted demon. My name is Gregory. Lord Gregory!” the nobleman said. “I’ve got to get into the mountains. I cannot delay!”
He was slumped forward over his saddle horn and sweating profusely, even though the breeze coming down off the mountains was relatively cool.
“Lord Gregory,” Vaegon corrected, as respectfully as he could manage. “Your Brawl with the tattooed man has caused most of this. I know you did not intend it to happen, just as I never intended to see past my hatred for your race, but here we are, nonetheless. If you truly wish to find a giant, then go with Hyden Hawk. When your mind is not so clouded with the poison’s fire, you’ll understand.”
“Why do you hate us?” Hyden asked Vaegon, without any anger in his tone.
“Some wrongs, no matter how ancient they may be, cannot be forgotten. Like a scar remains on the flesh to remind the bearer of the wound and the circumstances that created it.”
“Then, I hope the scars on your face from the shattered arrow this morning, show plainly for all to see,” Hyden said with a deep intensity. “Let them remind those who look upon you, that it is sometimes better to be scarred than not.”
Vaegon considered the words for a long time, and then nodded at the wisdom of them. He made a fist, placed it over his heart, and then made a short bow towards Hyden. The significance of the gesture was lost to Hyden, but he returned it anyway.
The gesture meant several different things, depending on the situation in which it was used: honor, respect, understanding, friendship, and love, to name but a few. In this instance, Vaegon had meant most of them.
Chapter 18
Gerard had never ridden a horse before. The Skyler Clan’s isolated culture had never adopted the practice of using beasts of burden for personal transportation. There was no need for them: the terrain was often too steep and inhospitable, and the winters were far too harsh, to try and keep animals that couldn’t stand to be confined in an underground pen for almost half of the year. To endure the mountain winters, the Skyler Clan’s folk lived in underground burrows. It was a necessity of survival.
Outside of the few times Gerard, Hyden and their young cousins had tried to ride the big horned billy goats that Berda’s husband herded, Gerard had never tried to ride any sort of creature at all. It was an awkward and thrilling feeling. Especially since the group had left in the dark of night just after Bludgeon had died.
A strange looking man, tall, pale-skinned, and bald as an egg, was the lead rider. His name was Cole and he wore wizard’s robes, and carried a lantern for them to follow – at least it seemed to be a lantern’s light. Gerard wasn’t sure that the light was all that natural. They followed the man on a mad dash southward, to the north end of the river’s huge, lake-like, swell, called the Belly. They stopped there at the water’s edge that first night, and made a cook fire as the sun came up on the morning of Summer’s Day.
When Gerard dismounted from the horse that Shaella had provided for him, he stumbled along on watery legs, and fell to the ground. Laughing at himself, with the others of the group, he looked around, and in that pink light of dawn, saw that on one side of the make-shift camp was an endless expanse of silvery blue water, while on the other side, was a sea of grassy green valley bottom. Both extended as far as the eye could see.
There were six men, besides him in the group, and all of them, save for Cole and his would-be twin Flick, were roaring at his folly. The laughter stopped abruptly though, when Shaella crawled on top of him right there, where he was sprawled in the dewy grass, and began kissing him deeply. She rubbed and squeezed his inner thighs where the ride had made them sore, until he was dazed and breathless.
“There’s something a few of us must tend to,” she whispered into his ear. Her hot, sweet breath made his head swim. “We won’t be long, and besides, it will give the potion time to do its work on your back and legs.” She kissed him again before he could respond.
“Potion?” he asked dreamily, when she finally pulled away. “What kind of potion? Where did you get such a thing?”
“At the festival silly,” she lied through her brilliant smile.
She pushed herself up off of him, then reached down, and pulled him up into a sitting position. As she went to get the potion from her saddle bags, Gerard glanced at the men by the fire.
Three slack-jawed heads quickly turned to study the flames. Cole wasn’t at the fire, nor was the man named Flick, who was a slightly rounder and shorter version of him. Both wore black wizard robes, and had clean shaven heads, and both of them had skin as pale as milk. Greyber was at the fire with the other three men, but his huge tattoo covered back was facing Gerard. Obviously, Greyber had been close friends with Bludgeon. When news of Bludgeon’s death had reached them, the man had roared out in anguish. All during the ride, Gerard had seen his jaw muscles working, and more than once, the big Seawardsman had wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He, unlike the other swordsmen of the group, had paid little attention to Gerard and Shaella’s open affection.
Trent, Dennly, and the other man, Gerard couldn’t recall his name, were all Valleyan outlaws who had escaped a wagon cage and turned into sell swords. Shaella had called them “glorified bandits.” Glorified lecherous bandits, Gerard thought, with the way they watched her as she went about her business.
Dennly was ogling her backside that very moment. Gerard’s blood burned at the idea of it. It wasn’t so much jealousy, as the blatant disrespect it showed. Before he could change his mind, he silently told Dennly, through his magical ring, to grab one of the pretty red coals out of the fire. Almost instantly, he felt the warm tingle of the ring’s power coursing through his veins.
“AAAUUUGGGHHH!” Dennly screamed.
For a long moment, he just stared stupidly at his blistering hand. Then, he bolted to the river and thrust it into the cool water.
“Don’t do that!” Shaella whispered in Gerard’s ear. She’d returned, and had been watching from behind him. It angered her, and she had to work to master the emotion, but she managed it. Disgusting as he was, Dennly’s sword was needed. He couldn’t wield it properly with a ruined hand. Still, Gerard’s gesture was a sweet one, and its intent was not lost to her. She took a breath, and masked her emotions completely.
“Why did you make him do that? How?” she asked.
She knew the answer of course, that’s why she had chosen him over the other climbers. She would have rather had the older brother, but Gerard was the one with the ring, the one that Pael had said could help her with the dragon.
He wasn’t bad to look it. He could have been a far worse specimen, she told herself. Gerard would do just fine, if she could keep his jealous reactions from maiming all of her soldiers.
Gerard was at a loss for words. He hadn’t thought she knew about his power. The ring’s power, he reminded himself, quickly. Did she know? How could she? She had just asked him why he had done what he did. He felt a slight wave of embarrassment wash over him. He had used the power on her back at the festival. Was he any better than Dennly? She saved him from his thoughts, when she kissed him.
“I…Uh…I…” He stammered, as he attempted to answer her question.
“Shhh!” She touched a finger to his lips, and then squatted down beside him. “It’s all right, my young warlock. Just drink this.”
She tipped a small clay vial to his mouth, and poured the contents in. He swallowed and smiled back at her. It hadn’t tasted bad, like he expected. His ego was swelling out of proportion as he thought about her calling him her warlock. He was so full of himself, that he didn’t realize that he was already growing sleepy.
“Greyber will stay here with you,” she told him, as she stood back up. Her tone had become commanding again.
“Cole, see to the pervert’s hand.”
Gerard felt disappointed as she seemed to forget all about him.
“Flick!” she called out. “Ready the horses. It’s time to ride for the Witch Queen.”
Gerard watched through a thickening fog of slumber as the group hurried back up river. He noticed that they looked different somehow, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. He dismissed the idea, and then took a place in the grass next to the fire across from Greyber. He started to make conversation with the big Seawardsman, but his
