The Spaces Between (A Drunkard's Journey) (14 page)

“Indeed. But still, there is not a great threat from a demon or two. The threat is really from the Darkness inside of us all. Should that get out, the world will fail. As long as the people believe in the Temple, believe in its protection, and carry out works in the name of the Light and not the Dark, we will prosper.”

“What about the…Knights of the Black Dawn?” Fa asked. Knights of the Black Dawn! Fa said never to say that aloud. Once one came to our house. I thought he would kill Fa. He said they were evil.

“They operate on their own.” The man did not say any more. It was quiet again.

Ugly Nose talked again. I did not like it when he talked. “They are a very dangerous group of assassins… We have had no wars here that anyone remembers, but the Dawn could very well push us towards one.”

“That is not entirely accurate. The Knights are very dangerous, yes, but do not kill just to kill. They avoid the Counsel Guard very effectively, and they have never been caught. For all I know the Guard knows they exist and leaves them alone. They are nearly indestructible...I have never heard of one being killed.  But they will not start a war. There are secrets even I must keep.” The Protector talked fast. Then he stopped. And then he talked fast again. “Wait! What? How could you possibly know about the Knights…? I thought—”

“If he knows of the Tunnels, why does it surprise you he knows of the Dawn?” Ugly Nose asked.

The man breathed loudly. “I suppose. In any case, we have nothing and everything to fear from the Knights of the Black Dawn.”

“What if they come after us in here?”

“They won’t. They are forbidden in here.”

“How in the name of all that is holy do you know that?” Fa yelled. Then he got quiet. “I’m sorry; I did not mean to yell.”

“I would also like to know what you do about the Knights,” Ugly Nose said. Now his voice was like the water. But it was scarier.

“Some secrets must remain.”

“Oh come now,” Fa said. “We are walking the entire distance to the Temple of M’Hzrut on foot! If we were not dedicated to assisting you—and as you say, the whole world—how can you keep secrets from us? Who are we going to tell?”

I think Ugly Nose looked at me. I did not see them. They were very far away. I felt his eyes. I was scared. “Can Ugly Nose see me?”

Don’t worry, he can’t see you.

“I—I will tell you later.”

Fa stopped walking. I heard his boot make a noise.

I stopped too.

“No! NO! You will tell us now! Enough of these Sacuan-blasted secrets! Do you hear? You—you show up at my farm, scare my son half to death. Demanded a mage! Your Honor, I appreciate your help and your wisdom, but my son was deathly afraid of you too. And I agreed to come—partly because I thought I could help him. Bimb, that is…help get some sort of blessing to remove his curse. As it is, he is probably sitting there thinking I’m going to come home soon and rescue him from his mother, who does nothing but sleep and cry.

“And then you tell me that the Temple really offers no blessings or cures, or any help whatsoever. It’s just a ‘charade’. A flimsy decoration to keep the mindless citizens of Belden in order and placated. Wait, I’m not finished! You also said that everyone was dead. Everyone! And now we know that is not true...what else have you hidden from us? I left my only son—my only son! Left him alone with...her...for a lie!  Had I not offered my word to help you, I would leave. Somehow.”

Fa was mad at the man. He did not get mad. Fa loved me. He said so. He said he was going to help me. I know he would not come home soon. But he loves me.

“He wants to help,” I said quietly. Fa is strong and loves the world.

As I am helping my son. Through you.

“So I ask you. What harm will it do to share your secrets?”

They started to walk slowly. I waited. Then I walked slowly, too.
Drip-drip-drip-drip
.

“I suppose…I suppose it does not hurt. But it will be your heads should you share this with anyone. All of your heads.”

Fa laughed. “And who would kill us?”

“I don’t rightly know. You see, some secrets are kept from me. I only know that to reveal the Dawn, let alone their mission and their work, is fatal.”

“Are you sure that is not a charade as well?”

“I don’t know, but I will act as if it is not!”

“Very wise,” Ugly Nose said.

Fa laughed again. “So then who is the Dawn?”

“The Knights of the Black Dawn are indeed assassins. But they serve the Holy Orders.”

“WHAT?” This time Ugly Nose yelled.

“I’ll explain while you pull your chin off the ground.”

Fa made a noise in his throat.

“I had said before that one or two demons would never pose a threat. But what if that one or two was one or two in every village? What if, in every village there were warlocks or those with these trinkets? What if they went among the people, with nobody noticing? And then attacked at once. That is far worse than a large invasion from anywhere—Temple of M’Hzrut included. And so the Holy Orders created the Knights of the Black Dawn to deal with individual threats.”

“And when was this?” Ugly Nose asked.

“It has been several Ages.”

“I never…” Ugly Nose was quiet. But now he did not sound so scary. He sounded…scared. How could Ugly Nose ever be scared? He was a mage! He could burn children and villages and sink ships!

“Nothing was written. Knights are sworn to the order for the duration of their lives.”

“So they never retire?”

“Oh they can retire or leave.”

“I don’t—”

“They can retire or leave…but they serve the duration of their lives. Do you understand?
The duration of their lives.
”

“Sacuan be…” Fa said quietly. I did not hear all of it.

“It is so. They pledge to hunt demons and to protect the Temple. Until they die. “

“So they are Protectors, too?”

“In a way, yes. But so far only one or two have ever been to the Temple—disguised as Protectors of course. No, many of them are out in Belden and even some in Welcfer, and they make sure to take care of any demons or demonic influence.”

“Witch hunters,” Fa said. He spat. He only spat when he was mad. Or when a pumpkin seed got stuck.

“Nothing like that. Nothing at all. They do not put people to the test. They do not interrogate people. They kill demons. Demons do manifest themselves, and it’s usually fairly obvious when that happens.”

“He is correct,” Ugly Nose said.

“They will fight when attacked, but they do not like to do so, instead choosing to run. Fear of exposing the order you see? So, we have nothing to fear from them. Any other questions?”

Zhy’s Fa wanted to know what they said. I told him. There were a lot of words. I did not know how to say them all.

What if the Knights
do
fight? What if they attack my son and his friends? Are they still on the side of the Light, or are my son’s companions…great Sacuan! Bimb! Bimb, you must help my son, you must!

Chapter 13 — Reldan’s Perils

Do not attempt to work out your own knots if you are not willing to accept that the person you think you are is not your true self.

Prophet Altyu-M’Zhkara, IV Age.

A
s the travelers arrived in Reldan, they found the streets empty and virtually unlit. A smell of lamp oil hung in the late autumn air, mixed with the smells of dying leaves and aging soil. A few lights still flickered in grimy windows, and it was apparent that the town had only recently gone to bed.

The only light—a dim flicker from a dying fire and a meager oil lamp—came from what appeared to be the inn. As they entered the common room, they were not surprised to find only the innkeeper cleaning the bar. He turned wearily and scowled as they asked after rooms for the night.

There was a slight hesitation as the innkeeper sized up the travelers. “Aye, I have but one room left, with two beds. One of ye will have to sleep on the floor, unless, ye be sharing?” He gave Torplug a strange, almost knowing look.

“No, nothing of the sort,” the small-man yawned, holding a hand up to the outburst that was halfway out of Qainur’s mouth. “I’m so tired, I can take the floor. I suppose there is no supper?”

The skinny innkeeper shook his head sadly. “Supper is nothing but bones now, in the mouths of the hounds. But don’t worry. Sharaza puts out a great feast in the morning and one at night again. But arise early! There is much to be had, but many who like to have it as well. When it is gone, it is gone.”

“Thank you,” Zhy replied, surprised at how faded and tired his voice sounded. “But I think we’ll get supplies and ride out.”

The innkeeper nodded and then directed them to their room. It was small, much like all the others, with a small fireplace and two scratchy mattresses wedged in the tiny space. A small window that was too grimy to see looked out over the stables. The innkeeper quickly got a fire started while Qainur and Zhy each collapsed on a bed. Torplug waited patiently and then lay down on the floor in front of the beds. “Don’t forget I’m here,” he said quietly, “if you get up in the night.”

Qainur grunted. Then the brash young mercenary coughed and spoke. “Zhy?”

Zhy was halfway into the abyss of slumber, but slowly rose out of it. “Yes, Qainur?”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Your name. It is short for something, isn’t it? Like Tom for Tomas, Yul for Yulguiar, Tor for Torplug.”

“I—really, what is this about?” Suddenly he sat up and looked over at the reclining mercenary. Qainur only stared at the ceiling, his head unmoving as he asked his questions.

“Of course, you know what I am talking about!” he barked.

Zhy yawned. “No, I do not.”

“Of course you do! I started to fall asleep, when I started thinking of Welcfer.” He paused.

Zhy didn’t respond.

“And a name I knew. A name I saw, that is,” Qainur continued. “In some library somewhere down east. And now I know what Zhy is really short for. Do you want to tell us or should I?”

He heaved a heavy sigh, which turned into a yawn that stretched his jaw painfully. “No, I can tell you. Although I don’t know why it is important. Can this wait until morning?”

“No,” the mercenary said coldly.

Torplug yawned. “Can’t hurt, can it?”

I don’t know about that. He’s got something brewing in that pea-sized brain of his.
“Yes, it’s short for Zhyfrael,” he whispered against his own better judgment.

The mage suddenly sat up, then spun around on his knees and looked down the length of Zhy’s bed. Zhy almost jumped when the small-man’s rugged face appeared at the foot of his bed. “What?” he asked, his strangely-shaped mouth gaping.

“Ha! I knew it!” the mercenary snapped, his voice full of some twisted satisfaction that was beyond Zhy.
And why did Torplug sit up and taken notice?
It was surreal and a bit disturbing to see his head there.

“Qainur, I don’t understand, honestly. I’m tired and want to sleep. Where is this coming from?”

“The name is a Welcfer name!” he snapped.

“It’s Welcferian!” Torplug burst in.

“Huh?” Qainur growled.

“Welcferian, not Welcfer. I don’t have a Welcfer name, but a Welcferian name.”

“I—”

“It’s just respectful that’s all,” the mage barked. “And yes, it is. But, like Zhy, I want to know your point to all of this.”

“There could be a thousand things that you are suggesting, and what I think you are truly saying is that I’m from Welcfer. Further, I’m on some sort of mission, or in with the Black Dawn, or Sacuan-knows-what. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Yet you are the one who found me! You dragged me out here on this journey. Do you really think I had the time, or the brains, to setup this whole charade of the town drunk, just to get in on some secret—gaah!” He sighed heavily, and he wanted nothing more than to give into the exhaustion. “It’s senseless. Go to sleep.”

But the mercenary would not give up. His mind was churning and trying to find a conspiracy where there was none. “Why the name, then? Are you from Welcfer?”

“No!” Zhy snapped. “I was born and raised in Belden and have never been farther north than Vronga. No one has ever commented on my name, my full name, although it is a Welcferian name.”

“Because you don’t dare tell them, huh? A-ha!” Qainur exclaimed. Zhy swore the man was about six years old under that warrior’s exterior.

“Oh come on! That means nothing. My father said Zhyfrael was a famous Welcferian leader, but he always called me Zhy. Didn’t want me to get full of myself.”

“Indeed,” interjected Torplug. “Zhyfrael was a famous leader.”

“A-ha!” Qainur burst out again. His excitement was palpable and Zhy was afraid he’d start to bounce like a tiny toddler. “So that is it! Don’t think I’m so dumb, either of you. I figured it out. You are named after this great leader. And now you want to go up there and take what is yours. Even though you say you are not from Welcfer, I don’t believe you. It’s your ancient ancestors, and now you want to go back and rule them. Is that it?”