A bit later, the three headed up the steps to find their rooms. Inside, he deposited
his pack and studied the room. First rule of survival drilled into his head was to know
your surroundings well. The only entrance was the door. The long hall could be a death
trap as there was no other way to the stairs. Looking out his window, he spied what he
was looking for — an alternative exit. He could use the drain pipe to shimmy down to the
alley behind the inn, if necessary. Satisfied, he rang for a maid and a hot bath in the
barrel. His room, while far from the comforts of Castle Dorumova, were acceptable,
though not what any Duska would choose.
Lunchtime. The three refreshed new friends headed down to sample the food.
Several dozen others had stopped by to dine as well. Some, Zoran noted, looked to be
wealthier types. He minded his courtly manners and helped Zdenka to sit, which
surprised her. She eyed him more closely after that gesture. Sitting opposite of each
other, they could now study each other.
Zdenka must be about nineteen perhaps, he surmised. She was well built, with
strong arms and legs, probably by virtue of having become an archer. About his height,
she had undone her long hair, and Zoran found himself even more attracted to this
woman. She now wore a thin cotton blouse instead of her travel leather top.
Bernard, he judged to be twenty-one, with bowl-cut, short black hair and eyes to
match. His face appeared bored more often than not, though he was observant. His eyes
animated the instant one mentioned dogs.
Zdenka observed this stranger. He was young, perhaps eighteen, certainly not in
his twenties. He still had that teenage youthful look about him. About her height, he had
long brown hair that just touched his shoulders. Remarkable blue eyes seemed to
penetrate her, she noted. She’d never seen such eyes before. His face was handsome,
that she knew. Tall and well-muscled as any fighter ought to be, she concluded. Yet,
there was something different about this youth, something that intrigued her. She
continued to stare at him, when he wasn’t looking at her. Presence, that was it, she
realized in a flash of intuition. He had more presence than anyone she’d ever met! Who
was this Zoran? Where did he come from? Why was he really here? She had more
questions than answers at the moment.
“So tell me, Zdenka, how did a pretty woman like you become an archer? I’ve
rarely seen such a terrific shot as you are,” Zoran broke in on her reverie. Either she
answered or Bernard would — she knew that for a fact. What the heck, she thought to
herself, someone’s got to go first.
“Dad and I live in a cottage deep in the Dark Forest, some fifty miles from here.
He wanted a son and got me instead,” she jested, but Zoran detected there was a deep
truth in those words. Mom died when I was young; dad blamed himself. A bear got her
while he was out hunting. He insisted that I learn to take care of myself. I can handle a
short sword a little, but I didn’t like it. Archery, now that turned out to be great fun. I’ve
won the Brn Archery Championship five years running. I decided not to enter anymore,
no competition. Besides, I take away all of the fun from all the other archers.”
“I’ll say she did,” Bernard jumped in. He’d seen her last match. “Boris thought he
had won the match last fall. Shot one in the bull’s-eye at three hundred paces back.
Zdenka stepped up and put all three shots dead center in the bull’s-eye. You should have
seen the look on Boris’ face.”
“Yes, that’s why I am not entering anymore. He was devastated. I don’t see any
reason to do that to anyone, you know. No point in it,” she replied.
“I like your attitude, Zdenka. Why show off? I avoid match challenges like the
plague,” Zoran replied. Her surname, Lavos. Somehow it sounded familiar, though he
just could not place it. Perhaps someone or one of his friends had mentioned it. Yet, this
Wild Lands was a thousand miles from the court and civilization. “Say, what is your
dad’s name, Zdenka?” he asked, wondering if that might help.
“Janos, Janos Lavos. Have you ever heard of him? I doubt it; we’ve always lived
deep in the Dark Forest. Hardly anyone knows of us,” she replied. His mind raced. That
name sounded familiar, like he ought to know it. Janos must be fighter trained if he was
able to teach her to fight and become an expert archer. Yet, why hide out in some forest
here in the Wild Lands? Highly skilled fighters ought to be in demand nearly anywhere.
Zoran finally left this as a mystery to be solved one day.
“Me, I live in a cottage about five miles out of town, small village of a hundred of
us. Got a nice place there. Raise dogs, if you haven’t guessed. Guard dogs and hunting
dogs are my specialty. Folks come for miles to get one of my pups, though I am pretty
picky about who I sell one of mine to — gotta treat them right and give them a good
home and lots of attention.” He would have gone on at length, but Zdenka cleverly cut
him off.
“So what about you, Zoran? What’s your story?” she smiled at him, her alto voice
enchanting.
Zoran was on the spot. He hated to lie; it was not in his nature. Yet, he couldn’t
just tell them the total truth. “Like I said, I’ve come a very long way. I was getting fighter
training and had some magic training as well. I know a few spells, but I didn’t like the
wizard or his attitude, so I came searching for greener pastures, as they say. Well, that’s
not the whole truth, exactly. Can you two keep a secret?” he asked, knowing that in all
likelihood they couldn’t, but it would serve his purposes. Both nodded and leaned closer.
“I’ve run away from home! Yes, I just up and left everything behind me. I just
can’t stomach the lies, the deceit, the constant warring, and the evil ways of so many
rulers. I can’t even stand the way that the Baron runs Dorum, let alone all these warlords
out here in the Wild Lands. So I up and ran away from it all. I heard this section of our
Wild Lands was better off and that Archmage Oldrich was a good monarch, so I came
here. It can’t be any worse that what I left behind. Just don’t tell anyone that I’ve run
away, please.”
“Oh, I promise I won’t tell anyone, Zoran. I swear that your secret is safe with me,
right Bernard?” She sounded so sincere. Zdenka thought to herself, “I knew it! He has to
be some nobleman’s son! His manners are too refined for around here. Now I wonder
which nobleman? I’m going to keep my ears open.”
“Dad and I also don’t like all the heavy handed tactics used around here by the
various warlords either,” she confided, part of her wanting to let him know that she felt
much as he did. She wondered why she had such a strong impulse to do so. “Honestly, it
seems that all of the men in power on this whole planet are cruel, sadistic beasts! We are
very fortunate to be in the lands controlled by Archmage Oldrich. She is a benevolent
monarch for sure.”
“Aye, that she is,” Bernard confirmed her declaration. “The Brn Land is about the
safest place to live out here in the Wild Lands, though we often get raiders coming in
from the surrounding areas.”
“What do they do when they raid? Steal everything of value?” Zoran asked.
“Some, but often they steal young men, kidnap them, probably to become slaves
in their ever growing armies. I know recruiters often come around telling us to send our
young men off to get trained because soon the evil Baron’s forces will come invading into
the Wild Lands. He will, you know, come a conquering sooner or later. Just study your
history. He’s already captured the lands once owned by ten warlords, albeit those that
were around Dorum mind you,” Bernard explained. Zoran cringed slightly. He knew well
what his father was doing with Adapazan.
Just then a husband and wife passed by their table on their way out. The man was
distracted by something she said and he bumped into the trio’s table. As he suddenly
turned around to see what was happening, his arm accidentally knocked over Zdenka’s
ale mug. Zoran’s eyes followed the tipping mug. It ought to have fallen over and emptied
its contents in her lap. Instead, the mug froze mid-fall and then righted itself, as if an
unseen hand had caught it just in time. “Pardon me,” the man said and left with his wife.
Zdenka saw Zoran staring at her mug, and she blushed. “Well, I can do a little
magic myself,” she admitted, though she had been keeping it a secret.
“I say well done,” Zoran complimented her. “Fast action. I like that. Besides, you
just had a bath.” She grinned. She liked this nobleman, if that was really what he was.
Bernard excused himself; he needed to tend to his dogs.
“Well, we have lots of time to kill,” Zoran began, a little unsure how to proceed
with her. He just wanted to somehow get to know this woman better.
“Well, I promised myself that no matter what else happens on my first trip into
Brn that I would go to their dance hall. I’ve heard stories about how fabulous the place
is. and I’ve just got to check it out. However, it is a pretty fancy place from what I gather,
so I am going to have to go in search of a dress this afternoon. I presume the barkeeper
can tell me where the dance hall is located and how to get there. Care to tag along?” she
asked, hoping that he might. If so, it would only add to her theory about him being a
nobleman somewhere.
“Sure. I’ll go ask for directions. We can go together, if you don’t mind my tagging
along, Zdenka,” he replied.
Later that afternoon, after the two had visited both a dressmaker’s shop and a
tailor’s shop, each purchasing suitable attire for the dance, they were returning to the
inn. The streets were rather crowded with townsfolk, many heading home for the
evening. Overhead, Zoran spied a large hawk circling. Strange place for a hawk, he
thought to himself.
A little further on, the two saw a thief snatch a money pouch from a well-dressed
man. A knife flashed and cut its thong from the man’s belt. The thief deftly caught it as it
began to fall, and then made a mad dash through the crowd, making his escape. Just at
that point, the hawk began to dive. Both Zdenka and Zoran watched mystified by the
suddenness of the bird’s dive. The hawk dove straight for the pick pocket, who was
running away as fast as he could go, often pushing or shoving aside others who were in
his way. In one perfectly timed swoop, the hawk snatched the pouch from the thief’s
hand and soared into the sky.
“Now there’s something you don’t see every day!” Zoran exclaimed. “Did you see
that hawk just take that money pouch from the thief? Or am I seeing things?”
“No, I saw it too, pretty incredible. Look, the hawk is coming down again,” she
pointed out. The two watched as the bird came down and landed on a tall, thin man’s
arm, releasing the pouch.
“Sir, your pouch,” the man caught the attention of the victim, handing him back
his pouch. From this distance, the two could not hear what was said, though they did see
the grateful man giving something to the tall, thin falconer.
“Come on. I want to meet that man,” Zoran exclaimed, having never seen such a
feat before. “Excuse me, sir. I saw what your hawk just did. Fabulous training. Are you a
falconer?”
“Damnable thieves,” he said angrily. Tall and thin, he had black hair and eyes,
with a peculiar goatee. He was probably in his early twenties, Zoran guessed. “Yes,
master
falconer,” he corrected Zoran. “My card. Name’s Karel Ambrose. I patrol these
streets about this time of day. Streets are not safe anymore, damn thieves anyway. Think
they can just steal anything they want. Well, I am showing that they can’t get away with
it!” The man was mad, no doubt of that. “Excuse me, but I need to patrol some more.
This time of day is prime time for the pick pockets!” He launched his bird into the sky
once more and moved on down the street. The two looked at each other and headed on
back to the inn for supper. The dance was tomorrow evening.
At suppertime, the inn rapidly filled up with guests and locals. Once the dinner
hour passed, a number came in to drink ale and chat with friends. Zoran spied a card
game getting started. As he looked at the dealer, his inner sense kicked in — something
was not right here. He decided to play a round. “Zoran. Mind if I join you?”