Vibrations: Harmonic Magic Book 1 (41 page)

“Definitely just as good,” Sam agreed.

After their short break, the small group followed the trail, which was looking more and more like an animal trail as they went along, until it dead-ended in a small box canyon. Too late, they realized what they had done.

“Now just relax and put all your weapons in a pile over near the far wall,” a voice boomed out from one of the cliff walls, “and we won’t have to have any messy deaths today.” As the echo of the voice faded, three dozen bandits with bows and crossbows stood up along the ridgeline on all three sides, razor sharp projectiles aimed at the party.

45

Rindu looked at the man who was speaking, high up on one of the walls. In his peripheral vision, though, he saw the other men lining the walls. There were close to forty of them, all with bows or crossbows. He and the rest of the members of the little party were in a clearing, with no cover and only sheer walls a dozen feet away. The walls provided no shielding from falling arrows.

Quickly, he ran through the options in his head. He might be able to survive that many men firing projectiles at him, perhaps even long enough to escape, though he would most likely be injured. Even he could not count on being able to dodge or deflect that many arrows and bolts. Nalia, too, may survive, using her shrapezi, which were already in her hands, to deflect the missiles.

The rest of the party could not do so, however. Sam was becoming more skilled and could probably deflect or dodge an arrow or two, but not this many. Dr. Walt could do nothing. If he could signal the others, let them know to take cover behind the rakkeben, they may survive at the expense of the big wolves, but no, that was unthinkable. He could not sacrifice the beasts who had all but become part of their family. Besides, there was no way to be shielded from all three sides. There was no other option.

“Do as he says,” Rindu said. Not having weapons of his own, he simply raised his arms and, with a look, admonished the others to put down their weapons. Nalia looked as if she would challenge him at first, but she quickly realized what he already knew: there was no way out of this situation with all of them alive unless they surrendered. They would probably be killed after giving up, but there may be a better chance to escape before that happened. They had to do what the bandits wanted now; they had no chance to survive if they didn’t.

The others dropped their weapons where the voice had told them and stepped back, arms raised to show they were unarmed.

The voice sounded again. “Do not allow the rakkeben to cause problems. Even as formidable as they are, a dozen arrows in each will stop them. I’ll come down and talk to you.”

Rindu put his hand on his rakkeban’s head, speaking soothingly to him. The others did the same with their mounts. The wolves seemed to understand and their hackles lowered and their growls subsided, for the most part. There was the occasional growl and Shonyb, Sam’s magnificent rakkeban, grunted questioningly to her bond-mate. Sam whispered something in the big wolf’s ear and she settled down, lying on the ground, placated for the moment. Immediately after, the other rakkeben followed her lead and laid down.

Rindu detected movement from the side of the little box canyon on which the voice was being projected. There was apparently some sort of hidden path to the top of the cliff there because six men were on the ground level and making their way toward the party. Five of the men were huge, dressed in some sort of leather armor with metal plates at crucial areas, and bristling with weapons. Two of them carried bows with arrows nocked but not yet drawn, while the other three carried close-quarter weapons.

The sixth man didn’t look like he fit in with the others. He was a small man, even shorter than Rindu himself, and slender. He moved as if he was a warrior, though, and Rindu knew that of the six, he was the most dangerous. He had a single sword, its hilt protruding above his left shoulder where the scabbard was strapped. Based on the worn leather of the handle, Rindu was sure the sword had seen heavy use. This was not a man to trifle with, he concluded.

Five of the men halted twenty feet away, stopping together at some unseen signal from the smaller man. He himself continued on until he was just a few feet away from Rindu. He stood there for a moment, looking over each of them. Rindu could not help but thinking that he was evaluating each, weighing them in his mind.

As the man looked them over, Rindu inspected him in turn. This close, he saw that the man was not so slender as he had appeared when in the midst of the larger, bulkier men. He was compact, but appeared well-muscled under his green clothing. From the glimpse he got of the man’s left palm, he knew he was correct about the sword. The palm was calloused from constant sword-work.

His clothing was of the upper class, finely cut and sewn, obviously tailored precisely for the man to allow him movement and protection. His green pants were tucked into boots that extended to mid-calf. His tunic was half unlaced, and on the belt buckled over it hung a large dueling dagger, crowded by throwing knives. Rindu did not doubt that he had other knives secreted about his person. The collar on his tunic extended up strangely to cover the man’s neck. Rindu did not see a need for that, but perhaps it was just a fashion consideration and not a functional one. On top of the man’s head was a cap that was roughly a triangle, doing nothing more than to keep the man’s hair from his face.

Looking into the man’s brown eyes, Rindu saw that he was evaluating Rindu’s evaluation of himself. His mouth twitched into a slight smile before dropping back into an expressionless line. “I,” the man pronounced, “am Danaba Kemp. And these, my fine companions,” he swept his arm to encompass the entire box canyon, “are proud members of the Red Fangs, the most notorious of bandit gangs. You may be suitably impressed now.” He laughed at his own joke.

Turning to Rindu, whom he had picked out as the obvious leader, he continued. “What have we here? A Zouy mage, if I do not miss my guess.” He nodded to Rindu.

Looking toward Nalia, he said, “and a Sapsyr, with a mask. The Faceless Sapsyr, if rumors are now being made flesh.” He dipped his head in a slight bow toward her. “But what else, what else? An old man and a young one.” Catching the shift in Nalia’s stance, he raised his arms. “No, no, don’t be alarmed. I will not hurt the grandfather or your friend. Friend, or something more? Hmmmm.”

So, the man was as perceptive as Rindu had feared. This one would not be easily swayed by arguments. They were in a great deal of trouble. “I am Rindu Zose, of the Zouyim, as you surmised. What are your plans for us, Master Kemp?”

“Oh, please, don’t be so formal. You may call me Danaba, or simply Dan. As to our plans, well, that is to be seen. I would talk with you. You may have information that is valuable to us and I never waste an opportunity for learning something new.”

Rindu sighed. “Very well, Danaba, we are at your mercy. Ask what you will and we will cooperate with your inquiry. I have one question first, however. When we have given you information and you are satisfied, what will you do with us?”

“Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it? But let’s not discuss this here. We would be more comfortable back at camp. However,” he looked at the rakkeben, “we will have to do something about them.

A low growl began in Shonyb’s throat, clawing its way toward the surface. Her lupine eyes shone with promised violence.

“Now, now,” Danaba said. “I didn’t mean it that way. Calm yourself. I would never harm such magnificent creatures if it could be helped. No, I have a much simpler and less violent solution in mind. If you are properly bonded, as I’m sure you must be, then I ask only that you send the rakkeben off to forage or hunt or do as they will, leaving you to our care.” He looked questioningly at Rindu. “And, of course, you four will need to be blindfolded. If we decide to let you live, we can’t have you telling others of our camp’s location.”

Rindu looked to the others, seeing the affirmation in their eyes. They knew as well as he that they had no choice in the matter. Better to send the rakkeben away in the chance they could help rescue them at an appropriate time. Better that than letting harm come to them now. “It is agreed.”

Soon after, the rakkeben departed, with Skitter still snug in his litter on Shonyb’s back. The litter looked much like the other panniers and saddle packs the other rakkeben wore, so the bandits didn’t notice the hapaki. The party was blind-folded and led through a series of twists, turns, and even a few tunnels. Rindu could “see” where he was going with his
rohw
, of course, but finding his way out again would have to be hit-and-miss, using his abilities like a compass to give a general direction. First, though, he had to determine how to escape.

In less than an hour, the party was marched into an area where the sound of people inundated them. When the blindfolds were removed, Rindu saw that they were in a large clearing with at least fifty people walking around, doing various types of work or sitting around fires eating. The clearing was almost completely obscured from above by a dense canopy of large trees surrounding it, shading it and hiding it from detection at the same time. Tents were scattered throughout in an apparently random configuration. If Danaba Kemp was half as clever as he seemed, Rindu knew that the placement of the tents was not random.

“Here we are, then,” Danaba Kemp stated, leading them to a nearby fire and sitting on a large fallen tree trunk. “Sit, and tell me what you are about. Be careful, though. If you lie to me, if you try to deceive me, it will mean your death. Though we have no set law about it, it is generally recognized that those we come across should be made incapable of ever spreading information about us. A good half the men wanted to just kill you in the box canyon and be done with it. So, what say you? Who are you and what is your purpose for trespassing in the Grinder?”

Rindu looked to each of the party members’ faces, checking to see if any of them wanted to speak. He saw written on each one that he should continue in dealing with this man. “I, as I have said, am Rindu Zose. I am perhaps the last of the Zouyim. Nalia, my daughter, is perhaps the last of the Sapsyra. Dr. Walt is a historian and scholar. Sam is merely our companion, one who had no others and so joined us. We are heading north.”

Danaba Kemp considered Rindu for a moment, locking eyes with the Zouy. “Now, why would you be heading north?” he asked. “And have a care, mage. If you mince words with me, there will be dire consequences.”

Without looking away, Rindu answered. “We are going to the Gray Fortress. We have business with the Gray Man.”

A flicker or anger passed over the bandit’s face and then disappeared quickly. “What business?”

Rindu looked again to the others, not so much looking for affirmation as stalling, putting off answering the question for just a little while longer. “He has something we need and we will attempt to take it from him.”

“Are you friends, then? Enemies? Common thieves? What is your purpose? Answer me plainly, Zouy. I’m growing tired of the games.”

Letting out a small sigh, Rindu said simply, “We will try to force him to give us information we need. If he does not do so, we will take his life. If we can.”

The bandit broke out in a hearty belly laugh. “Aha! My instincts were right about you and your friends. Any enemy of the Gray Man is a friend of mine.” He slapped Rindu on the back companionably. “If I could, I would kill the fiend myself, but I have grown much too attached to my head to let him take it off for me. Still, maybe I can help in some small way.”

Rindu stared, speechless. Of all the responses, he did not expect this one. Help them? “You have…issues with the Gray Man?”

“That I do, my Zouy friend, that I do. I will not bore you with the whole sad tale, but suffice it to say that I owe him as much pain as I can give him. I was an upstanding man from a good family. I had a fair amount of land and my life was good. My wife was expecting our first child and my only interests were bringing in profit and adding to my family’s wealth. The Gray Man’s minions swept through my ancestral home and the villages nearby. He didn’t make demands, didn’t offer to parlay, didn’t give us any choice.

“His chief soldier, Shordan Drees, broke in the door to my bedroom himself. While I watched, he raped and beat my wife, then slit her throat in front of me. I broke free from his men who were holding me, attacked him, but was no match for him. He didn’t even bother to draw a weapon. Instead, he beat me bloody with his bare hands. He beat me and left me for dead, but I survived. Over the next few years, I recovered, trained, became the magnificent specimen you see before you.”

He laughed, but then suddenly his face grew cold, his eyes hard chips of stone. “I have planned my vengeance on Drees all this time, but in the meantime, I had to make a living. Thus the Red Fangs. Many of my men are simply desperate souls such as I, though some are bandits at heart. We are ruthless and we are thieves, but we try only to dispense violence upon those who deserve it. In the meantime, we are building a reputation that the Gray Man, and his dog Drees will soon not be able to ignore. When they seek us out, then I will get my revenge.

“Or so I thought. It seems that the Gray Man has bigger plans, plans that include taking over the world. I am merely an insignificant insect that he will swat when he gets around to it.”

Sitting down and deflating, shoulders slumping, he continued, “but maybe by helping you, I can help put an end to that. The one thing I ask is that you promise you will kill Shordan Drees if you have the chance. Even if you don’t kill the Gray Man, I want Drees dead. The world will be better off without that monster.”