Never was a human so glad as I to step foot back on dry land even if it was with the help of the doctor and boy. They half carried, half dragged me down the gangplank, procured a ride in a carriage and brought me to the Mayor’s mansion. I had expected a mere Inn somewhere on the docks. He put me to bed with a sleeping draft which I had no strength to fight. Had my life depended on my reflexes and skills, a five year old girl could have ended me.
In the morning when I woke, there was a trio of faces awaiting me. As I rolled over and turned, the three rose from the bench at bedside and went to the door. I looked at my surroundings, a comfortable room in a well appointed, rich manor with tapestries, glass windows, hand woven rugs on wooden plank floors, not flagstones or bricks. A fireplace was to my right burning hotly with great logs of oak and maple.
Fletcher was the first one in followed by what could only be the Mayor. Fat and dressed like a king, he wore his riches well. He looked like one of the burgers from Amber. I would learn he was a displaced noble who had backed Eric. He brought his servants and the doctor had them help me sit up as he took my vitals.
“My lord Lucian is awaiting your report,” he said and I trembled. I feared his punishment would leave me unable to continue. Fletcher put his hand on my shoulder and felt me shake. “Fear not, lad. I told him you were ill, near to death through no fault of your own. Who would dream that a Black Elf would be so sick of the sea waves that he could not bear it? I told him that to punish you would not be half so severe as what you had already gone through. He said the value of a weapon is diminished when its owner takes it for granted.”
I bowed my head. They moved me from the king-sized bed, dressed me in soft linen underthings, leather breeches, blouse, tunic and covered with a lightly padded vest that would stop a knife thrust. Brought me to the dining room where the family ate and placed food in front of me. I was like a wax doll that they dressed and moved as if on strings.
Looking down at my plate of expensive china, I saw bread, the white bread of the rich, not coarse wheat, cheese and a bowl of clear soup and felt the faintest trace of interest as my belly grumbled. Fletcher smiled.
“You have two days before the Caravan leaves for Tissarette and Amber, Corbel,” the mayor said. “You must be ready to hire on as a Mercenary.” He looked doubtful as he observed me or that I would succeed.
My hand picked up the white as snow bread, chewed stolidly. The cheese was soft, mild and flavored with chives, the soup beef with thin strips of carrots and ginger. I ate all of it, drank the goblet that I thought was wine; it was some kind of tonic and sat like a nugget of heated coal in my belly warming me from the inside out. My eyes brightened. I felt awake and alive, almost normal.
“Bring me a mirror and leave me,” I spoke for the first time in days and they hurried to obey. The Mayor himself handed me the round silver disk used exclusively for communications and as I held it out before me, muttered the words that activated the spell. The Master’s face filled the silver surface and he did not look happy. He cursed me, my hand trembled and his image shook.
“Still, Corbel,” he regarded me and I held my hand as steady as I could.
“Master,” even my voice shook and his eyes ate my fear and it soothed him.
“I suppose I can’t blame you for not remembering that you get sea-sick,” he sighed. “As I have taken all your memories. You no longer wear the visage of a Black Elf, I have given you back your mortal form save of your eyes and chin. You have blue eyes and no more dimple but beware, those that once knew you might still recognize you. Wear the mask when you are in the Palace. Are you all recovered?”
“Yes, Master.” I opened my mouth to ask why he had not known I was sick while aboard the ship and why he had not contacted me at sea.
“What, my Blackbird?”
“You did not contact me on the ship.”
He was still and then seized my throat in his grip. I did not look at him, nor breathe, held myself still.
“Corbel, have you not learned yet to not question me?” he said softly, dangerously. My Adams apple pulsed against his grip as I tried to swallow, no moisture in my mouth. He let go and forced me to the floor on my belly, fire bloomed on my back and I smelled flesh burning. I shrieked and his image wavered, disappeared as he forced my hands to drop the mirror.
The others ran into the room and stood around me while my flesh burned before their eyes. As it ended, the doctor knelt beside me and touched me. “Corbel, what ails you? I see nothing wrong.”
“The fire? My back on fire,” I looked over my shoulder expecting to see burnt and charred cloth, blistered and blackened skin. All I observed was the broad expanse of my leather covered back, not even warm to the touch. The floor was cold and suddenly, I was chilled to the bone.
“Master, oh, Master,” I whimpered and buried my head into my arms. It was then that I began to hate him, the warm core of rage dispelling the cold that lived within me.
I remained on the floor until moon rise and only then did I rise and stalk the city streets. I found the caravan and their guards. Wearing my cloak of shadows and my mask, I slipped into their ranks and murdered three of them before departing from the camps to prowl the rooftops and the underbelly of the town. I went mad that night, I think. I cut down any I found in my wanderings. Did not care if they were thief, murderer or victim. My thirst called for blood and blood it drank in gallons.
In the morning, I presented myself to the front door of the mansion and was admitted even though covered in blood, wild eyed and nearly incoherent.
Fletcher dragged me to the baths, washed me as if I were a child, fed and sent me to bed. I went. Woke me a few hours later when I was more human and less insane. “Ah, your eyes are calmer,” he said satisfied. “What has that man done to you, boy? For you are no more than a boy, not a man, yet. How old are you? Sixteen, seventeen?”
I gave him a look that made him drop his stare. “I must go to the Caravan Master and be hired.”
“Mayor Peecock has a letter of recommendation but I fear you will have to do some fancy talking and blade work to get hired. Tatterselle hired the last one he needed yesterday afternoon.”
“I believe there will be several vacancies,” I returned and made my way out to the courtyard. I had vague memories of walking up the broad marble steps in the early morning. There were bloody footprints staining the risers.
Found my way into the stables at the side of the mansion and picked out a mount. They weren’t horses but close, the same size but their hooves were padded and cloven, necks longer and more slender that could reach around and bite the rider. They had eyes like a cat with a third eyelid and could close their nostrils under water or in dust storms. Strangest of all, they sat down on their rear ends like a cow to lie down. Were able to run all day, their lung capacity more like a whale’s. When they heated up, they exhaled sparks instead of sweat.
In colors they were gray or mouse brown, dun and red with black bristly manes and tails. No white on them at all and on the savanna, they would be nearly invisible. In speed, they could gait as fast as a cycling man, faster than a horse and they ate brush, not grass, meat and anything a man could eat. Weren’t opposed to taking a bite out of their rider, either.
The stableman came up behind me and offered to outfit both of us. I nodded as he brushed the mount, saddled and bridled it and last, threw a pair of saddlebags on the back of the seat.
“Gear? Do you have any? Her name is Singe-i, it means Tiger’s Eye.”
Her color was that of a tiger and the wicked gleam in her eye gave credence to her temper.“I did. Don’t know where it is now,” I replied and my escort arrived to answer him.
“His things are being packed and brought down, Avery. Corbel, please come in and let me check you before you leave,” Fletcher pleaded.
“I’m grateful for your care, Dr. Fletcher, and I’m sure the Master will suitably reward you but I am leaving soon as my things arrive. What are these creatures called and what do they prefer to eat?” I asked the stableman.
“They can survive on whatever you would eat, need at least 1/10th of their body weight in food, daily. Break it up into three or four meals. Treat them like horses but they are tougher, are called glivets and are native to the plains near the Blood Range. Don’t offer them your back and watch their front legs, they’ll strike if they’re upset or you beat on them. If you treat them fairly, they will run themselves to a frazzle but unlike a horse, they know when to quit. Run them that far and they’ll stop, like a mule you won’t get another step out of them.”
“I thank you for the information,” I said, took the reins and mounted. From my elevated position, I said my farewells. The pack came and he loaded it on the saddle for me.
“Do you know where the caravan is camping?” Fletcher asked.
“Yes, doctor.” I nudged the glivet and we were gone.
As I expected, the caravan master was in a royal upset as some crazed demon had invaded the campsite during the night and slaughtered his best guards. I snorted when I heard that, if they were so good why were they taken so easily? I was hired on the spot, he gave the letter of reference only a quick scan. Asked my name and told me to report to the Guard Captain, a dark haired, green eyed blonde that made easily two of me. He favored an ax and a broadsword, sneered at my knives and short blade. His name was Erc and he might have had Viking blood. Showed me the tent set up for the guards and introduced me to them. I told him I preferred to camp outside their perimeter and in the trees.
‘It’s your neck,” he grumbled. “If you get killed, it leaves us seriously short of men.”
“I will not be seen or heard unless I will it.”
He shrugged. Told me the pay rate and work schedule. We would leave the next morning after he attempted to hire two more men I rode back outside the camp and made my own in a thicket of brambles, turning the glivet loose to graze as she willed, a spell on her to make her appear to be a harmless skunk and another spell to prevent her from leaving me. Since I has slept so much the day before, I was wide awake and spent the night patrolling the caravan’s outer boundaries knowing that the night would be safe as I was now inside their guard ranks. Erc sent men to find me and it was easy to avoid being spotted until I came up behind them and startled them.
Come morning, I reported in and made my way to the guards tents to partake of breakfast. There, I met the Caravan Master, a Tissarette native named Jazeera Tatterselle who knew the road to Amber well. He told me what they were hauling and when I saw the number of wagons, beasts of burden and drivers, I was in awe. It would take the better part of the day to harness all and get them moving. We would manage four leagues a day, an amazing amount of mileage but then, the wagons would be pulled by glivets and camels, not horses.
I met the entire caravan’s personnel as we rode in groups of four around the train. The captain of the guards placed us at the forefront, rear and sides so that the entire train was enclosed within a phalanx of experienced swordsmen, some twenty in all. Along with the drivers, teamsters, cooks, workers and train master, we were forty-eight bodies. All of us carried blades and weapons of their own choosing. Many had bows and even crossbows. Anyone who attacked this train did so at great peril.
Being the newest hired, Tatterselle had no luck hiring more, I was stuck riding drag. This entailed eating the considerable dust that the train stirred up. It wasn’t so bad in the forest but once on the plains, the shit coated every inch of your skin, got between your wrinkles, cracks, up your nose, in your eyes and even between your teeth. When we stopped to water the animals, I dismounted and beat at myself raising a great cloud of dust. The other guards in my squad warned me I would be covered again in minutes when we started up.
I cursed, pulled out my cloak and tossed it over my shoulders. Besides being able to deflect eyes, it could also repel water, dust and blades. Once on me, the others saw only a shimmering shadow and were full of questions as to where I had gained an elven cloak. They also knew how I remained invisible on patrol when they were searching for me.
I did not answer, took my flask of water and drank, refilled it from the water barrel on the water wagon and remounted Singe-i who stood patiently. Resumed my place in the rear with the other guards.