This is the first of several fragments, all part of a bigger story yet to be written.
The reason these are in English is simply because the people who helped inspire these stories and its many characters, all used English as their common language.

The order of scenes, to the left of the screen, is actually how the storyline is developping. When a scene needs to be between other ones, it will be seen at the correct spot in this list. So it's not necessarily the order in which the scenes are written.
So don't mind the dates, I use them retroactively, so I can put any scene (which are blogs by date on this site) in the exact order I want.
I'll end up in 500 BC if I keep going back with my dates like this...

The text is condense, everything jumps from one thing to another very fast. Consider it a draft, meant to be rewritten in full later, which will most likely happen in Dutch instead of English first.

Needless to say everything written here is copyright protected. You can put a link to these texts, but you can not copy or use the text in any other way. For your own comfort you can copy the text to Word or something alike, and print it out of course. Just don't go spreading those copies around...

Even in this short version, I realise it’s still a long read for the internet. If you bother, I hope you actually enjoy it.

There is a forum, but you could just as well use the little 'reageer' button on the right below each chapter, it means 'react'
It asks for your name (naam) and your email, and a random letter code to make sure you're not a chinese farmer bot.
Below there is a little button to remember your name and such, it says in Dutch 'persoonlijke gegevens onthouden'.

26-07-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The fires hiss in the pouring rain. Horses’ trampling under the screams and cries. The clinging of metal on metal, breaking of wood, things falling and splashing in the mud. It’s a night of fighting and killing. Now that the foreign armies have fallen back over the mountains, a civil war ensued in the beaten down land. The Nuncio’s troops are cutting out every resistance they can find. Once the Queen was taken prisoner all hope seemed lost for her faithful supporters. No one considered this even possible: the Queen was deemed untouchable. It seems she trusted her first advisor all too much. No one could find her weaknesses better than him.

The Nuncio answered to both his own order and to the Queen. In the end he answered to none.

The Queens magic was never of the destroying kind, she was the one taking care of the land and all its inhabitants, big or small, man, beast or plant. She deeply felt all things living, as if she was the connection that bound all life of the land together. The Nuncio was often the one leading her fighting forces, which he turned against her in the end. Right when the country was weakened from the wars.

A pregnant woman tries to hide from the ongoing slaughter in the empty stables of the soldiers’ horses. She figures no one will look for anyone there, since all the horses are out. It won’t be long till the fire reaches these stables though, the barn next to it is already on fire. The contractions hold her down but she struggles to find a safe spot in the hay. Not too far from the back doors, but still sheltered enough not to be seen.

She knows she will give birth to her child alone. This woman is not from the city, she is one of the travelling people of the forests. She was raised in dealing with nature, for better or worse. Giving birth is a fight she is ready to take on alone, like every other animal. The water for the horses seems still clear enough in the barrels, odd that no one thought of getting it for the fires or to clean the wounds. People from the cities remind her of ants, without a queen to lead them.

Just outside, it must be against the very wall of these stables, she can hear the muffled screams of another woman. At first she thinks the woman is assaulted, more so even if she hears the dark tone of a man’s voice. In her own labour pains, she can’t put her mind straight to the noises she hears. Only after a while she realises the woman screaming is calmed down by that man. The other woman is in pain, and her cries are getting desperately weak. Did she stop screaming, or did she stop hearing anything herself? Her own cries get stronger, her baby is coming, the world and all its burning has to wait now.

The girl is born in a night of blood. As if it is death itself that welcomed her to the world of the living and suffering. Her mother can not give up now. She has to take care of herself, and of her newborn baby. The struggle is not over yet. Outside the cries have ended too.

The door opens, she crawls back, holding the wet baby onto her chest. A man enters, alone. She looks at him, trying to silently move further away. He knows she is there, she can feel it. Yet he does not seem hostile, although he does not seem friendly either. He holds a blanket in his arms, which he takes to the barrel of water near the woman. Without a word he takes some of the water, only than she realises he too is holding a baby. Instinctively she looks for the silence at the other side of the wall. He shakes his head, she understands and feels sorry for the motherless child in his arms. Just like she feels sorry for the fatherless girl on her own chest. The man washes the baby and she watches him like a wounded animal. He has several scars in his face and on his bare forearms.

Horses and cries. A group of soldiers are returning outside. Immediately the man reacts in a surprisingly calm and efficient manner. He takes something to put water in, he wraps the blanket tighter, motions the woman as she is trying to stand up. This man is not panicking, whereas the woman is on the verge of collapsing. She can not think or plan, but she is not afraid of anything that will come.

The group of soldiers is too near, and further outside there still is fighting going on. There is no safe way to get out of there unseen. The woman is not about to stop, but the man holds her back. Immediately she is ready to fight him but his eyes calm her down. He gives the baby in the blanket to the woman, who now carries both children in her arms. He tells her no name for the boy. All he does is put his hand on her hand and let her hold the boy tight. The man opens the door for her and pushes her behind a bundle of hay. He makes the ‘wait’ sign and goes back inside. She can see him still through the open door.

From his back the man takes a dark walking stick that was tied in a leather sheath. Both hands in a firm grip on the stick, he looks behind one last time. The woman sits there hidden, the two babies in her arms. She is ready to get them safe, even if it has to kill her doing so, weakened as she is. The woman can barely stand up straight, she can hardly see from exhaustion. The pain is overbearing.

With a single hit he strikes down one of the supporting beams of the stable. The splintering of such a large wooden pole makes a terrible noise. He looks behind, the woman realises she better gets out of there. He takes of his shirt and opens the front doors. His skin has a pale colouring to it, rather unreal. What strikes the most however, is the multitude of scars this man has on his body. The last thing the woman sees of him is the way he dashes outside and starts breaking random things within his reach. Not only wood is heard breaking, but metal as well, and even the splintering of stone. When the first soldiers arrive he rushes inside again, fast as a fox. He is not a tall man, but he appears extremely strong and fast. Outside the first shouting is about the ‘scarred one’, as if those scars are how this man is recognised. It is very clear the soldiers have been looking for him and he is giving them a run for their money. Already the soldiers are on him, but as many follow him inside the stables another beam is struck down. The building is collapsing.

While running the woman can make out the soldiers panicking and crying for aid.  Before she knows it more and more are called to help catch the scarred man. She can not wait to see what happens; she takes both babies and stumbles to the outer fences. The woman has no way of telling if the man lives but she simply can’t focus on anything else than moving now.

If she reaches the forest at least they will live.
 

25-07-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The village.

Swaying softly left to right, and back again with the gentlest of steps. One close to the other, their arms hooked and their hands holding a firm softness. Most have closed their eyes, putting their faith in the gentle dancing, the waving motion. Nothing but a single bandoneon, singing the rhythm with minimal effort. There are tears in its music, but it’s never crying. The soft tones are accompanied by the shuffling of many feet, as one, on the dusty wooden floor. It’s the brushing of the waves over the sand, on a soft summer’s evening. Nothing more.

They all look so peaceful now, even the drunks and the brawlers. The occasional miss-step is always recovered in the living motion of the dance. They form a chain, more alive than that even, more feeling and breathing: they form a snake. The inn is the snake’s nest, and she is curling up endlessly, harmlessly. For now. It all takes but one fright, one alarming sound, to stir the snake and make her lash out again. Hissing and spitting venom.

That one sound was the door, slammed by the winter’s wind helped by just a tad of clumsiness. The little figure stood there baffled for a moment, knowing he had woken the snake. The first voice heard, deep and drunk, was that of Jack. With just a little disappointment but as always with high authority, he said: ‘Sod it.’ Upon which he emptied the closest pint of beer his big hands could grasp. As always he spit it out and shouted: ‘Where’s my whiskey?’
This was seen as the starting shot for all kinds of noises and misbehaviour. This man was big as a bear but could hardly stand up straight, ever. But, due to some unnatural mixing in his blood or muscles, he could not fall down either. Nothing you could do to him would knock him of his feet. Except maybe the whiskey he never stopped pouring down his throat. In the end, that would get him. But even than he didn’t seem bothered by all the feeble attempts to kick him while he was down. Not that people hated him, most respected him and even liked him. The others simply avoided him.
It wasn’t that he started fights for a reason; it was more a case of never going out of his way for anything. In this village, if you knock someone’s table over, they are bound to hit you on the head with the remaining chairs. The fact that you would, or in his case: would not, fall over after this, is entirely beside the matter. In reaction to that, people adopted the manner of hitting Jack with everything they got. Not just the men, the women too, and they weren’t the ladylike slapping kind either, not at this hour.

So Jack threw down another’s beer, and while spitting it out he didn’t really mind if people were near him either. The first punches landed, to little or no effect, but of course others joined in and the noise in the pub became it’s usual unbearable self.
The little man at the door was actually relieved that a fight had started. It took him of the hook for disturbing the gentle dance of the snake. He tried to get to the side of the bar, where a few figures were in fact talking to each other instead of shouting. They kept their voices down, knowing they best not draw too much attention to their conversation.
‘Hey Biggy,’ one of them greeted the little man with a smile. He could take the jests over his posture, as long as it was in a friendly manner. He was a nervous little fellow, which probably caused his clumsiness. More than once he had poisoned people or gave them annoying diseases, simply by messing up his potions and pottery. The cure was never far from the curse with him. As a physician, he believed in learning about the cause of the illness more than merely guessing at a possible remedy. His pharmacy was filled with all types of experiments and analyses of every type of disease or poison he ever encountered. This made his pharmacy actually one of the most dangerous places to visit, especially when already in a sickened state. If this little man made a profession out of poisoning people, he would have no match. As a doctor however, he was rather disastrous.
‘So how is she, Biggy?’ the woman in the company inquired, unclear if she was worried about this patient’s health before or after Biggy visited her. ‘Still can’t figure out what poison or illness got to her, but whatever it is, it must be extremely fascinating.’ He answered with almost a sense of excitement on his face. ‘But of course I hope she’ll get well soon… obviously.’ He added the line almost because he had to, but in the end he genuinely cared about his patients. The causes of their illnesses simply triggered his sharp mind more, that was all. In the end, he was a curious little man, with a remarkably clever mind and luckily an incredibly big heart for his posture.

Their conversation was disturbed by one of the fishermen, drunk as drunk can be, who stumbled into the conversation with a tale to tell. And it wasn’t about his wife or what he saw when he came home this time. In fact: it was something he saw when he left his shack near the water. ‘I’m telling you I saw it sober, even if I’m drunk now! ‘t Was a cat I tell you. A gigantesque… didn’t think I could pull that word of, did you… a gigantresque cat. And I mean a big one, not a like your little kittens at home. No no, a cat as big as a lion, and black as the night, prowling around the village.’
The woman was the first to laugh uneasily, and Biggy bought the fisherman a drink. ‘Well well, a cat you say, as big as… me?’ The fisher looked down at him, wanted to reply, but checked his beer first as he didn’t trust anything that had passed through that little pharmacist’s hands. ‘You can laugh, but I know what I saw, and it was bigger than you! A cat, bigger than you.’ Biggy simply smiled as to say: which cat isn’t? The rest of the small company joined in for a few cat jokes, the usual snares about Biggy’s short height, and than tried to dissolve the issue in drunken silliness.
The fisherman had a few drinks with the lot, but wasn’t satisfied with the fact his tale found no audience with them. In the end, he hooked up with one of the other drunks stumbling past, and together they swayed of, waving his arms in the air and forming little ears on his head with his hands. The company there at the side of the bar fell quiet at that point.
Again it was the woman breaking the silence. ‘It seems like Ileya has arrived. We better go meet her than, if she comes all the way here.’ One of the men shook his head: ‘It’s not a good sign her coming here. Not good at all.’ ‘And can’t she be more careful, she mustn’t be seen.’ ‘You tell her than, be my guest. Mind the claws when you do…’

A handful of people going to the house near the forest’s edge. Hardly recognisable, except for that little figure who could never shake that uneasy smell of potions and powders. Shaandra knew that smell very well, and it pleased her. It was her teacher she saw running there, the good hearted pharmacist who she took lessons from. No one gave any thought to Shaandra taking lessons from Biggy. As a priest she had the right to learn everything the pharmacist knew about healing people. Her domain was the spiritual health, his the physical. Nothing wrong with learning both for more beneficial effect. Of course he focused mostly on the causes of illnesses, the poisons and diseases, where Shaandra surely was mostly interested in the well being of her patients... surely.
Shaandra was an eager student. Nothing could interest her more than the ways people could suffer. All for the greater goal of relieving that suffering of course, both spiritually and physically.
She was all too eager, but the little pharmacist never got suspicious over her endless devotion. Every day her hunger for his knowledge grew, touching upon the most lethal poisons and most painful diseases.
She knew that small figure going there very well, therefore she didn’t need much help identifying the others too, once she noticed Biggy with them. It was a secret little gang of conspirators, never to be trusted in her eyes. From outside her study she saw them, immediately it was clear to her they were up to something. She was certain they didn’t see her. Shaandra was an inconspicuous figure, it was as if she moved in the shadows always. But maybe that should have been taken as a hint to her true nature…

The house was rather big, but since it was at the forest’s edge, it seemed desolate none the less. Close to the cover of the trees, and actually quite close to the water as well, if you wanted to avoid the fishermen’s shacks. The few people attending the house were quiet as ghosts, always busy but hardly ever seen.
The small company went to the first floor, Biggy going ahead and again hitting the corner of the cupboard upstairs. One of the maids managed to rescue the bowl with water in time, letting out a soft sigh at the little man. The maid said no one had come yet, but they insisted on seeing the patient. The door was still locked yet inside they heard a gentle voice talking, just out of hearing reach of the maid. As the servant opened the door, a swift brushing was heard, and nothing more than an open window with waving curtains was to be seen. In the bed a woman was still sweating the uneasy sleep of the alarmingly ill. She looked older than she was, but still had striking features, even this pale and feaverish. No one actually knew who she was, but one of the children who brought her to the village in an old wagon held a ring that he only wanted to give to a doctor named 'Biggy'.
They all entered slowly and gathered around the bed. The maid wanted to close the window for the wind, but Biggy told her to leave it open. The maid clearly had no faith in the judgement of the pharmacist but she obeyed just the same. As she left the room and closed the door behind her, a shadow formed from barely outside the window. So big it was hard to imagine they didn’t see it beforehand. It formed a very big but slender cat, pitch dark as the night. No one was frightened or even surprised. A little uneasiness at best, given it was still a very extraordinary phenomenon to witness. The cat leaped into the room, hardly making a sound upon touching the floor.

’I can’t find it.’ Biggy said to the cat. Her voice was soft and gentle, the very voice they heard the moment before opening the door. ‘Ileya knows you can’t.’ The cat lifted itself at the side of the bed and in a moment’s time she transformed into a bewildering woman. Her eyes were old but fierce, still they held more kindness than people cared to see in such a wild creature.
‘You can not help her.’ She spoke soft and clear. One of the others asked her if she could help her than? The wild woman looked at him from aside, not sure if the question was worth an answer. She answered, as always referring to herself in the third person, as if she only recently learned to speak. ‘Has Ileya ever come when she could not help?’ This was a harsh but true fact: she never visited lost causes, compassion was not what she was about.
The woman in the company wondered how Ileya could help her than. Were there herbs or natural remedies Biggy had no knowledge of? ‘Yes there are.’ Ileya replied, ‘but those won’t help here.’ Biggy simply nodded. ‘I know my shortcomings.’ he added. Ileya smiled at him, it was weird to see her capable of smiling, or even having a sense of humour. Biggy winked at her, the two of them went way back. Ileya was he strangest friend he had indeed, but also the most useful one when push came to shove.
‘The woman is cursed.’ Ileya told them, ‘Ileya can not heal curses, they are unnatural.’ Surely Biggy can handle curses the others uttered. Biggy shook his head: ‘I couldn’t even find it was a curse, let alone cure it.’ Ileya put her hand on the sick woman’s head, closing her eyes and following her uneasy breathing.
‘She will die. She must live.’ No one had a reply to that. Ileya opened her eyes. ‘You say there are two children here. Who does the second child belong to?’ What did she mean by that? The woman was brought in by her two children who refused to leave her side, but in the end they both collapsed from exhaustion. ‘Which child fell asleep the first?’ Ileya asked. They looked at each other, how could this matter.
‘The boy.’ Biggy said, I put him in the bed as the girl protested still. ‘Than the girl is her own child, and the boy is not from her blood but they were raised together as brother and sister. This woman gave birth to one child only, not more.’ It seemed an all too easy conclusion, but one did not argue with Ileya over facts of nature.
'The boy asked for me Ileya, and he gave me this ring.' Biggy handed over the ring from his pocket. Ileya examined the ring, but there never was any doubt about the authenticity. 'Scaramance...' Biggy nodded. 'That man would not leave a trail this obvious even if you tortured him.' Ileya looked at the others with a dangerous fierceness in her eyes: 'Protect these children with your lives. The boy is the son of Scaramance, and this woman's girl will prove to be even more important.'
'Scaramance having a son, imagine that.' Biggy smiled.
‘When the girl is awake Ileya will ask her blood to compare the taste with the mother’s cursed blood. For now they all must sleep and you must leave till the sun is up in the East. Next moment Ileya leaped out of the window. Only than Biggy noticed the small wound in the woman’s arm under the sheets. A little scratch from a claw.

Jack stumbled out of the door, followed by a beerbelly guy swearing and cursing with his last breath. He threw his weight at Jack in a final attempt to stop him from moving away. The impact almost hit him over, but not quite. Jack put his arm around the other guy and took him for a walk in the moonlight. The man still struggled but Jack kept walking his typical walk, swaying left to right.
‘Having fun?’ A smile appeared on Jack’s face as he dropped the guy he was holding. ‘Aye, having myself a walk in the moonlight.’ Ileya looked at the giant of a man, but in a strange way her own fierceness matched his perfectly. ‘You need a real battle, sitting at home does not fit you.’
Jack took out his last bottle of whiskey and stepped past Ileya inviting her to walk along. ‘You’re right lass, and I fear battles will come soon enough.’ They discussed the uproars abroad, the rising of the savage armies that Jack had fought so many times before. ‘This time it aren’t the green skins though, the battle will be started from our side.’ It was remarkable how this man could drink so much, fight so hard, and still be capable of holding a conversation on the politics of the lands. Ileya spoke in her own way, third person and all, but she seemed aware of all the hidden agenda’s every ruler had.
At the first fisherman shack, they paused a moment. Jack looked at her and simply stopped talking. Ileya smiled for the second time that night. ‘Ileya didn’t come here to talk about needs and greeds of powerful men.’ Jack nodded.
‘Ileya has to know where Littlefather is.’
‘I can’t tell you lass, sorry.’
‘A woman is dying.’
‘Where Littlefather is, hundreds are dying.’
’Than why is Jack here drinking and not there?’
‘I will go when he calls me.’
‘How will he call you?’
Jack didn’t answer. He hesitated, weighing his words. He was not the man to break a promise, but he tried to find a way to help Ileya nonetheless. Without actually saying where Littlefather was, he knew that telling how he would call him, was giving the secret away anyhow. Ileya sure knew how to pick the right question.
‘The dragonfires in the south.’
Ileya stood there, silent. She understood what Jack had revealed to her. The dragonfires of the south weren’t used for hundreds of years. This meant Littlefather had entered the lower realms. Last time one had done this, literally thousands of people died in the onslaught that followed. This was above and beyond any of the small politics these northern countries cared to suffer.
If Littlefather was preparing war down there, he must have real good cause to do so. This alone set the turning of the world in a different perspective. It was indeed something that should not be known to any but the chosen ones Littlefather handpicked for his armies. The fact that Jack was not called yet, also meant things were stirring up but not burning yet. If and when those dragonfires of the south would burn, people better pray it is indeed for dragons, and not for the much graver danger they were actually intended for…

‘Thank you Jack.’ Ileya stepped to the water, her face clearly showing concern.
‘You won’t find him lass. Down south is beyond your trees and creeks.’
‘I know Ileya can not find Littlefather. But Kildur can.’
Jack sighed: ‘I should have guessed. Say hello to the old dwarf from me.’
‘Ileya will not go to Kildur herself.’
‘Than send Aurohra.’
‘Ileya can not go because Aurohra has left the cove and Ileya lost track of her.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Ileya is never kidding. Aurohra went looking for her father, and her anger is great.'
'Damn, wouldn't want to be her father than.'
'Aurohra needs to be found, before she finds her father. Ileya can not leave before Aurohra is back. But still the woman and the children need to go to Kildur, so he can take them to Littlefather.'
'And you're certain Littlefather will stop fighting over the faith of this world and the next, just to heal this one woman.'
'Littlefather will heal her.'
'Why?'
'The queen.'
'What has all of this to do with the queen?'
'Everything.'
'Never mind I asked, I don't really want to hear.'
'You will have your part in it Jack, before it all is over.'
‘Well, than I hope that dying woman is worth it, because you are getting us into a crapload of trouble at once.’
‘She is not worth it, not more than any other single person dying. Not while Littlefather holds the lives of thousands.’
Jack looked at her, waiting for more.
‘Her little daughter is worth it.’
Jack emptied his last bottle of whiskey, turned around and went back to the inn. Behind him he heard a soft plunging followed by swift swimming motion.
‘Must be one hell of a daughter than…’

10-07-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

Leki and Kyell watched how Ileya alone took their mother from the stretcher, she was feverish and ailing. Ileya carried Malika over with a perfect balance of strength and gentleness. The woman was put on the raft Ileya made especially for her. The children were held by Biggy, he had trouble keeping them at distance. But one glance of Ileya was enough to let the children accept that she would not tolerate anyone to interfere between her and her patient, not even the woman’s own children. Ileya saved lives, that was what she did, and she let nothing stop her from doing so.

The raft with their mother slowly drifted along with the stream. In the water, guiding it, was Ileya swimming. She allowed no one else to accompany her. She alone would take the mother to her cove, a place where she suffered no one who wasn’t one of her order. Biggy always called it her pack, a bunch of wild animals the lot of them. Ileya growled at him when he made fun of her, a growl that came from within the belly of a hungry predator and he could see her eyes shift to green as she did it. That still scared him, even though he knew she was jesting.

In the water Ileya looked normal so far, but Biggy knew well enough she would shift once they were out of sight. What she would shift into, he had no idea of. Malika, the mother of the children, was too sick to be transported by road to Kildur’s mountains. Ileya was the only one who had a chance of keeping her alive long enough. She was reluctant to take her to the cove at first. Not only did she not want an outsider to enter there, not even one who would die otherwise, but also she was bound on getting that woman to Littlefather. That was one journey this woman could not make for sure, even perfectly healthy people had only a slim chance of ever making it that far south alive.

So Ileya gave in, something she was deemed incapable of by most that knew her well. She suggested the children being taken to Kildur, and beyond, instead. The girl shared the blood of her mother, a cure could be found on the girl that would work for the mother. Biggy was sceptical about this all. He assumed Ileya had a different motive for sending the children to Littlefather, although he had no idea why that would be.

Malika and her two children, Leki and Kyell, travelled around in an old bandwagon. This gave Biggy the idea to send them on the road with his cousin Keezul, who was a travelling toy maker. Keezul had his own wagon, of which the colouring and theme fitted in perfectly with two children riding around in a wooden house pulled by a massive horse. The lot of them made a perfect match, a joyful sight to see indeed.

Not that the children were joyfull themselves. They cried as they saw the raft with their mother drift further of. Kyell had no confidence whatsoever in that strange bewildered lady who took Malika away. Leki had more faith. She felt Ileya would do everything in her power to keep their mother alive. The only thing about Ileya that made her uneasy, was the way her eyes seemed to read Leki’s mind for more than she was aware of herself. The fact that this woman transformed into a fierce oversized cat, or that she appeared so in touch with nature you could expect leaves growing in her hair, all this didn’t bother Leki at all. Still, seeing her mother out of their reach, on the water, was something she could hardly bare.

Keezul was as joyful in nature as his cousin, but he missed that insecurity that came with the risk of killing your patients by accident. Not that Keezul’s contraptions were free of risk, but it was different for toys compared to cures and potions. Basically Keezul did the same experimenting as his cousin, but at least he did it for fun. Adding a wee bit too much gunpowder to a toy canon still was something different than mixing up your poisons and medicines in a pharmacy.

There was another reason why Biggy asked his cousin to take the children: at least with him there was a small chance of them being distracted. As unlikely as it seemed at that point, Keezul was the only one who could maybe put their mind of things.

Obviously it also was important in the decision that the children were taken by someone trusted. Keezul could be a cunning opponent in his own funny way, his mind was as keen and quick to the beat as his cousin Biggy’s. And of course it helped that Keezul actually knew how to get to Kildur without being too conspicuous. After all: they didn’t want the children to be followed, but they shouldn’t get lost either. Kildur’s ‘mountains’ weren’t as easy to find as one would expect from mountains, since in effect, they were no mountains at all. Not above the ground at least.

The children reluctantly tied their own wagon behind Keezul’s. Petta could take a break from pulling on this trip. To everybody’s surprise Keezul would not use his regular ponies on this trip. Even though the four of them, together with the horse Petta who was as big as all of them together, could easily pull both wagons. Still, Keezul had a better idea. At least according to his own judgement. Biggy knew his cousin well enough to know that whatever it was Keezul had in mind, it was bound to be pretty deluded. So Biggy took his responsibility in the matter and did what he felt he had to do, given the circumstances. He giggled, and said: ‘Let’s have it than.’

Keezul almost jumped of excitement.

’I’ll be back in a minute, but whatever you do: don’t lose the key or we are stuck here till tomorrow.’ Keezul, in his excitement and haste, carelessly handed over a rather big sized key to whoever was the closest to him. This happened to be Kyell, but it could have been anyone.

Keezul dashed of on his short legs and Kyell stood there a bit uneasy with that big metal key in his hand.

The trembling startled him! All of a sudden that key shook vigorously in his hands. From sheer surprise he dropped the thing to the ground. Kyell recovered very fast, feeling a bit silly he let it drop so easy. He bend over to pick it up but it actually vibrated so much it jumped out of his reach. Biggy came to his rescue with his fast little hands, but too slow as well. The key was shaking so hard it took several turns towards the water. At that point Leki jumped forward, leaving her own thoughts of her mother and Ileya. She rushed to the water’s edge but the key twisted and turned every way possible. The three of them jumped and grabbed and blocked the way, they anticipated and reacted, but the key refused to be caught.

They were so busy chasing the key that no one even noticed the soft melodic pumping of a mechanical engine. From down the bend Keezul drove in on a small vehicle, hardly taller than one of his ponies, but with rather big wheels. And in fact as broad as a few of those ponies standing next to each other.  He jumped of when he saw them running about after the key. As by magic that key took a few rather hefty jumps and rolled its way straight into Keezul’s waiting hands.

Behind him the mechanical vehicle was waiting impatiently. It had vaults and cylinders, it huffed and puffed, and even blew out steam from small wolf snouts.

Kyell’s logical little brain never stopped analysing and putting together, so when looking at the vehicle he said: ‘It already is started and runs, what do you need this key for?’

Keezul clapped at so much cleverness, and such quick thinking too. This was going to be an exciting trip indeed!

‘The key, my worthy companion, is for the most important part of the trip.’

He took the key to the vehicle, and used it to open a roster above the engine. It had a very big and shiny lock, like only the biggest of treasure chests normally have. Out of there he presented three long forks, and from his pockets he pulled a sack of marshmallows. With the roster open, you could see a red glowing of metal grills, just in reach from the big passengers seats. Leki giggled, this was all too silly. Kyell felt like he had been fooled, but he was never a sore loser.

Biggy stood there smiling at his crazy cousin. The children were sat on the seats of the soft huffing and puffing vehicle, while Keezul attached a long pulling chain to both wagons. Petta and the little ponies alongside of it all. The children were still sad and worried, nothing could take that away for sure. But the marshmallows were roasted, the little train pulled ahead, and the trip had begun. There were surely less enjoyable ways of making a trip you didn’t want to make.

05-07-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

After dinner Kildur took the boy for a walk, along the hallways and machine rooms. They talked about their sick mother a bit, and as a distraction Kildur explained to him how several of the more exciting machinery worked. The dwarven leader had a rather fearsome appearance with his fiery red beard and his short broad stature. He reminded Kyell of a rock of lava for some reason. Kildur was on about explosives and even more about his own pride and joy: crafting blunderbusses or guns.
'I would show you my masterpiece lad, the best blunderbuss I ever crafted, but it's n longer on my wall. I gave it away to the best hunter I ever trained in these here mountains.'

‘Now that the lady Malika is ill lad, do you think your father will come to help you two out?’ Kildur asked the question in a very casual fashion.
Kyell kept silent a moment, as if he was considering his options.
‘My father died before my birth even. He was one of the Kaliari, ‘the rope people’ as you call them.’ He tried to lie as convincing as possible, clinging on to what was actually Leki’s true story.
‘That girl Leki is a Kaliari if ever there was one, you can tell from the first look. But it will take more than tying a few nods to make you one of the rope people my friend.’
Kyell kept silent, sorry about having to lie to this dwarf he started to like this much.
‘You however, little lad, are probably more like your father than you realise.’ Kildur smiled, not angry about the obvious lying.
‘My father died.’ Kyell insisted, without much conviction.
‘He did. In more ways than you hold possible lad…’

Kildur took Kyell to his private quarters. Instead of something luxurious they entered another working place with the smell of sulphur and several forges smouldering with a warm scent.
’I see you can keep a secret lad, so I’ll tell you one of my own.’
Kildur went over to a lockbox and opened it with a key from inside his boot. From a table to the side he got a piece of rock, a few dinner plates made of porcelain and a hammer.
‘Schooltime, lad. Pay attention, you’re going to enjoy this.’
Kildur took the first dinner plate and dropped the rock on it from a high. The breaking of the porcelain cleared Kyell’s mind: the noise made him focus, this was something real going on and not just a little conversation.
‘Why did the plate break lad?’
‘Because the rock is harder?’
Kildur took the rock and put it softly down on one of the remaining pieces. Nothing broke.
‘Well, because it took speed and hit it hard?’
Kildur nodded.

‘But there is more to it lad. Things break because they can’t move anymore.’
Next he dropped the rock on a piece of cloth, obviously it simply fell on it to no effect.
‘The cloth can move and the plate can’t?’
‘Indeed, but move inside, not from one place to another.’
‘Like trembling?’
‘Exactly like trembling!’
Kyell tried to understand the answer he had just given.
‘When something wants to tremble so hard it can’t anymore, it breaks lad.’
Kildur took his hammer and actually smashed the piece of rock.
‘The rock couldn’t tremble out of it?’ Kyell smiled.
Kildur grinned.

‘Now lad, what would happen if something never trembled?’
‘Euh, no idea… it would never break?’
‘Or always break…’
‘Guess so.’
‘Let’s say it never breaks, than what would happen if you hit something with it?’
‘Hit it hard?’
‘Hard as you can.’
‘Than I guess the other thing would break.’
‘Aye, as if that other thing had to do all the trembling. It would likely break pretty fast. A lot faster than by this hammer or that rock that still tremble quite a bit more than you would think.’
Kildur gave Kyell the hammer and let him hit the anvil with it. Hard.
Kyell did and he dropped the hammer from his hand on the impact.
‘Trembling enough for you?’
Kyell smiled a bit uneasily.
‘This is all mere guessing lad. I can’t prove a word of what I just said. But let’s say I held something that wouldn’t break, and all that I hit it with would break in the end, than I could conclude that that thing could not tremble.’
‘Sure, I suppose.’
‘Let’s keep it at this: for now I can’t come up with anything better why this thing behaves like this.’
‘Do you mean you have something like that? Something that doesn’t break?’
‘These here mountains lad, under the ground, are filled with the stuff.’

Kildur took something from the secured lockbox. It was a small piece of black something, a bit like metal, a bit like rock. It was but a small piece, hardly bigger than a finger nail.
He took it to another porcelain plate and beckoned Kyell closer.
‘This is too small to break this from this close, right?’
‘Depends on heavy it is.’
‘Smart lad.’
Kildur handed over the piece to Kyell, gentle as if it was a diamond.
‘Drop it.’
It was light indeed. Kyell dropped it. It hit the plate, did not bounce or move. It simply dropped down and the plate broke.
Kildur took another piece out of the lockbox. This one was bigger and had a curved shape that stood up a bit when he put it on the table.
‘Break it with the hammer.’
‘No I won’t, I’m sure this is expensive.’
‘Just hit it lad.’
So Kyell hit it. Hard. Expecting anything to happen.
Nothing happened other than him hitting the anvil but with less impact than expected.
The reason was simple: the hammer had been broken by the hitting!
‘Is this a trick?’
The small piece of curved material was untouched at the anvil.
‘No trick. If you hit it hard enough, it would break the anvil in the end.’
‘This is weird.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’

Kildur showed Kyell more pieces of this material, some bigger and longer.
‘They are found deep in these mountains, in different shapes and sizes. We haven’t found any way yet to alter them. There is simply nothing you can do with it in terms of shaping or modifying.’
‘So what is it good for?’
‘Breaking things I guess lad.’
Kyell liked the simplicity of this answer, what else would you do with something that didn’t break.
‘You know lad, one day we found a really big piece, the longest so far. It came almost to my shoulders and had a funny nod at the top. It was slender and straight, a lot like a walking stick.
Kyell immediately thought of the mysterious weapon his father wielded: the black walking stick he could break anything with, even swords and shields.
‘That stick was too long for me, so I gave it to a fellow named Scaramance. Slippery bloke that one, always popping up in the weirdest places, and always involved in some other fishy business.’
Kyell gasped.
‘Last thing I heard is that he had a son now, not that he would acknowledge that. Far too many people would just love to hurt the boy to get to the father.
Kyell realised Kildur knew all along of course.
‘Sorry I had to lie to you Kildur.’
‘Not at all lad, not at all. You wouldn’t be his son if you didn’t try to trick me.’

01-07-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

He hammered away, Muredin was lying under the wagon with boards of wood he bought at a resting point for the horses. He used nothing but his two hand axes, both to cut the boards and planks to size, as to hammer the nails in with the back sides.

Kyell tried to help as much as possible. He was intrigued by what the dwarf had come up with. Muredin was making a hidden opening in the floor of the wagon, right under their table in there. You could open it rather easily, even though it was utterly unnoticeable, even if you knew it was there. Once open, it allowed you to hide under the wagon, or simply escape from it. He also added some more boards next to the wheels, so that no one would even see you under the wagon even if they were looking straight at it.

‘So what is the use of a cork on an empty bottle?’

Kyell looked at Muredin smiling.

‘That should be an easy one for you lad.’

‘Depends on wheather the answer is smart or silly I guess.’

Muredin burst out laughing. He took out the bottle, lifted of the cork and had another drink.

‘Still not empty, so can’t tell you yet.’

Kyell sighed a him, both for not getting an answer as for the dwarf drinking this early in the morning.

‘You know lad, when they will ask you who got you out of trouble safe, tell them it was the bravest dwarf that ever existed.’

‘Oh, nice, and when exactly is he coming to help us than?’

‘Funny lad, real funny.’

‘Why is it so important we say you are the bravest dwarf that ever existed than?’

‘Well, first of all because it is true,’ he chuckled, ‘and secondly because I want Kildur to hear somebody else than me say this for a change.’

‘It was Kildur who sent you along with us, despite every one else saying you were nothing but a drunken fool. So I guess he already thinks high enough of you as it is.’

‘Nice of you to say so, I think…’

When he was done, he saw to it to fix some of the other things on the wagon. Muredin was rather amazed with the mechanic Malika, the children’s mother, had made to free Petta from her collar with just one push. Instead of being mechanical with chains and bolts, it was in fact a self-untying series of knots and ropes. Leki had to explain to him how the knots actually were done. Upon examining the ropes themselves, he noticed them being oiled up and smooth yet firm as a steel cable when tightened. He had noticed this on the other ropes used in the wagon as well: they were prepared in such a way no water or drought would affect them. This was all the work of a true Kaliari, Malika obviously was from the rope people. Which was odd: they never travelled alone like this, and neither the wagon nor the children had any of the usual ritual Kaliari markings.

‘Mother left the tribe.’ Leki said, without really explaining why.

‘I hope they still get along.’

‘Meme Uzuela looks us up every now and than. Whenever her tribe is near, that is. Meme is my grandmother by the way.’ Leki’s face cheered up at the thought of her grandmother. She wished Tati would come by very soon now, she probably hadn’t even heard of Malika’s sickness yet.

‘I would be honoured to meet your grandmother some day.’ Muredin replied. In the way that Leki had said ‘her tribe’ he sensed this woman was probably the head of the tribe.

‘Did your grandmother teach you that trick with the rope you used in the fight?’

‘No, mommy did. Meme taught me this one.’

‘Which one is that?’ Muredin looked up from his work.

Leki walked away, giggling.

Muredin understood he was trapped in some way and he instinctively looked at his feet before moving an inch. Indeed there was a rope draped over his left boot. He slowly wriggled his foot out of it.

‘You almost had me there, lass.’

The next moment he hit a bucket with water behind his head. The rope at his boot remained lying still; it wasn’t attached or knotted in any way. Simply a lose piece of rope she had laid there as distraction. The cold water drenched Muredin’s back. Petta snorted from sheer amusement.

‘Meme says people focus on our ropes too much, as if that’s all we can do.’

The soaking dwarf had learned a lesson and raised a drink on that.

‘Hey Leki, come here. I found something.’ Kyell called out from a bit up hill between the trees. Leki walked up to him, behind her she noticed Muredin looking worried for a moment.

‘Let that be children.’

‘What is it Muredin? You know what Kyell found than?’

‘Aye, it’s the grave no doubt.’

Leki shuddered a moment: graves made her feel uneasy. She could always sense so much of the ones lying in them. Leki had this way of connecting to things that died, even more than she did to the feelings of animals or even persons. Still she was curious enough to go see what Kyell was excited about.

‘Look Leki, her name was Tekshi. You can’t see it on the front, but it’s actually at the back of the stone.’ Leki looked at the grave, at the bush growing over it, the moss, the tree next to it, the rocks on the path passing. She looked and kept looking as if she wanted to find something there.

‘See Leki, here: the stone is bleached from the sun a bit, but it’s facing north. Still the moss and grass are all going on naturally.’

‘Now that’s odd lad, I never noticed that before. Let me look at that.’ Muredin went to sit next to Kyell, both examining the back of the stone carefully.

‘Well, I’ll be damned. This stone is turned indeed, but it’s been done man many years ago. I’ve never seen it any other way than this. Even the grass grew over it like this, so it must have been ages.’

‘Guys, could you both keep quiet for a moment please!’

Something had scared Leki, and she still couldn’t stop scouting the surroundings of the grave.

‘What is it Leki?’ Kyell knew her well enough to know something was seriously upsetting her.

‘She’s not in it.’

‘What?’

‘Tekshi. She’s not in her grave.’

‘Leki, she’s dead, you can’t be feeling her now can you.’

‘Kyell! I feel it when they are in their grave, not even their bodies but, you know… they themselves.’

‘Lass, what are you saying: their ghosts?’ Muredin frowned.

‘Not sure if I can call it that. They are always still, so more like sleeping ghosts or something. But not this one: her corpse may be here well enough, but she is not.’

‘That doesn’t make sense lass.’

‘I know it doesn’t make sense! I have no clue what I’m talking about either, but I can guarantee you that whoever this Tekshi is, she is dead for sure and she is not here where her body is lying!’

Both Muredin and Kyell tried to put together what she was saying.

‘Never mind, I want to get out of here.’ Leki ran to Petta and put the horse to the cart.

Muredin was finished anyhow, so they might as well leave he figured. They had stopped long enough.

They rode out, going over the hillside to the left, so they would cut of a part of the road going around the hill. Leki couldn’t stop looking around, trying to focus her mind to feel beyond all the living things there. Kyell watched her a bit ill at ease, she could truly scare him when she acted up like this.

‘Stop here.’ Muredin said it out of nothing, in the middle of the grassy hillside. Leki felt it too, the whole hillside seemed alive to her. Alive in a scary way.

‘Leki, don’t say a word, but simply jump of and sort out Petta’s harness as if it’s loose.’

Leki hesitated, but she obeyed before understanding. Kyell looked puzzled at Muredin.

‘Remember lad, tell them it was the bravest of all dwarves helping you out.’

‘Muredin, don’t be scaring me as well. What are you on about suddenly?’

Leki felt something she hadn’t felt with Muredin ever before: fear.

‘Hush Kyell,’ she whispered, ‘what is wrong Muredin?’

‘Now listen up kids, and keep quiet. You ride on down the hill and take the road to the right.’

Kyell knew he was serious now, it was just like yesterday when he jumped of before the country lodge. Except for the fact that Muredin sounded far more concerned this time.

Leki wanted to ask what on earth was scaring him, but the dwarf silenced her.

‘So go on, and when things go wrong, you race on till you come across a small bridge over a river, it’s directly after a turn in the road. You do not go over the bridge, although they will expect you to, but you take the right side of it and ride straight onto the water.’

Kyell pondered that word: ‘onto’ where he expected ‘into’ when it concerned riding to a river.

‘The water is shallow, even though it looks rough. Ride over the river so you end up behind the rocks. Keep going into the forest. Don’t hesitate at the bridge or the water, or you won’t have enough time before you’re seen. They have to think you went over the bridge, the road has so many turns they won’t figure it out before it’s way too long. And even than they will never know you went through the water. The river is deep all over, except that one point.’

Leki still had no clue what was happening.

‘Come back on the trestle now, as normal as you always do. When you are in the forest, find a safe spot and wait there.’

Leki stepped back up and sat down next to Kyell. The children looked at each other not knowing what was happening at all.

‘Start moving slowly Petta, and get these children out of here.’

Petta snorted, and Leki was sure the horse knew exactly what was scaring Muredin. The fact Petta didn’t react even worried her more. If Petta felt she best not draw attention, it had to be something really dangerous observing them this very instant. This horse wasn’t the type that kept still in the face of danger except when it was a matter of life and dead.

The wagon pulled on, the children sat there nervous, trying to act normal.

Not a word, Muredin leaped forward with both axes gripped. He landed upon something that squeeled for a second. There was blood on his axes as he lashed out to something a bit further. There was growling to be heard from everywhere around. Muredin ran alongside the wagon and incited Petta, who started running as fast as the wagon could bear the hillside.

Something furry but with pieces hanging loose jumped up and got struck down the very instant by the running dwarf. Muredin still ran as fast as the wagon, striking here or there without even stopping. Whatever he was hitting, he killed them of with a single blow each time so far.

Than the howling began. Leki felt the entire hillside was filled with foul creatures crawling in the grass. Several of the things raised up now, leaving the cover that had failed them. The wagon went so fast the children could hardly make out what these things really looked like, but Leki felt death and mutilation everywhere.

‘What are they?’ Kyell gasped.

‘I don’t know Kyell, be ready to kill anything that comes close. These creatures are insane for blood;’

‘We can’t leave Muredin behind.’ He looked over and saw Muredin fighting of things jumping up and over him, they were clawing and biting like animals but still human in some way. They all went for him, drawn by the blood he spilled. His axes went around like lightning, splattering blood up high. He ran from here to there, sometimes avoiding them, sometimes attacking, and always gathering as much as he could. He got further and further behind the wagon, luring of any of the creatures that tried following the children.

‘There are more Kyell, in front as well. It’s like… like they’re hungry.’

‘What, they want to eat us?’ Kyell took his stick in his hand, still looking behind for Muredin.

‘I feel pain and agony Kyell, not just the creatures and their hunger. There are others here, terrified and hurting.’

‘Like victims?’

‘Yes.’

‘Leki, are you saying they are eating their victims alive here?’

‘Not eating, torturing. I’m scared Kyell.’

‘Hell, I’m terrified, and what will they do to Muredin?’

‘Don’t look back Kyell, Muredin said we have to get to that river.’

Petta was running, here or there swaying to avoid some of the creatures coming there way. They had lost Muredin, the wagon went up the road and Kyell couldn’t make him out anymore.

At that very moment Leki screamed. It was a shrill crying, something had just horrified Leki beyond reason.

‘What? Did they kill Muredin?’

‘She’s here Kyell!’

‘Who is?’

‘Tekshi!’

‘Who?’

‘That woman from the grave, the turned stone.’

‘No way.’

‘She’s right there in the pack. I’m telling you Kyell, she is there.’

Kyell had lost all words. Back there, far behind them, Muredin was fighting of hordes of bloodthursty creatures eating their victims alive, and in between all that Leki saw a dead woman roaming around.

Kyell couldn’t see anything but these jumping things far behind, men or beasts he couldn’t tell. They seemed both to him. A ghost however he could not see, or hear, or feel.

Leki shuddered, tears ran freely over her face and she was shaking.

‘It’s her Kyell. They are feeding her! They are feeding her pain.’

Petta ran and ran, none of the creatures was fast enough to stick close. Muredin had no chance of catching up, if he was still alive at all. The children clung unto the wagon and tried to fight their fear. They couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Muredin behind.

When Kyell saw the bridge he looked back first: none of the creatures was in sight yet. That river looked deep, he wondered for a second if it had swollen since Muredin last saw it. Kyell didn’t have to make the decision: Petta rushed onto the water. The wheels hardly went in more than halfway, it was like riding on a sandbank at sea. The water was foaming still from the speed it hit the stones upstream with. That gave the wade the look of being just as deep as the rest of the river.

Petta pulled the wagon out of sight along the rock the bridge was build upon. They entered the forest and couldn’t look back anymore. They were out of sight indeed, but did that mean they were also safe now?

20-06-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The first thing the children took notice of, was that owl sitting there staring at them. It was getting later but not dark yet at all. Leki saw it on the branch, she felt it was there. But, as close as that branch was to them, they never noticed such a big bird landing there. Surely it can’t have been there all the time. The bird made Leki uneasy: it was staring at her, observing her. Kyell smiled at her, he saw no harm in the bird, except for the leftovers of their meal.

He tried his best to make everything safe, but there was only so little a small boy and a girl could do in such a forest to make it feel safer. Mostly they tried to make as little noise as possible and no light or fire at all. An owl didn’t scare him; he was more worried about soldiers, poachers and thieves.
Still Leki could not relax with that bird sitting there.
’He has killed, Kyell.’

‘Who has?’

‘The owl.’

‘Of course he has. Who knows the amount of mice and rodents he butchered.’

‘No Kyell, I mean really killed.’

He gave the owl a glance, more to proof to Leki he wasn’t scared of it. Deep down he knew Leki could feel such things, as irrational as they seemed to him.

He went out a bit to get more sticks with leaves to cover the wagon up. Leki stayed as closed to Petta as she could. The horse breezed, sneering at the owl.
Kyell went out, but just as soon came back upon his steps. Literally: he set every step exactly back the way he had walked out. Very, very slow. With a soft voice, he said to Leki: ‘Forget about the owl, there’s something bigger out there.’

Leki looked at him and immediately felt his fear.

‘What is it Kyell?’

‘A wolf, a loner, and he’s prowling around us.’

‘Hold still Petta, we don’t want that wolf getting angry.’

Both children huddled up against the big horse. Kyell rolled aside the barrel behind Petta, as to give her more room for kicking. Nothing they could do but wait. Leki took a rope in her hands, no other weapon could ever make her feel more secure than a rope. This was her heritage. Even if her mother left their tribe, it was crystal clear that Leki was one of the Kaliari, ‘the rope people’. Kyell held a stick, as much his heritage as the rope was to Leki. Never had he seen his father wield anything more devastating than his mysterious black walking stick. More so now that he had discovered its strange secret at Kildur’s place.

The wolf was probably still there since Petta was still nervous. On the branch, calm as death, that owl still stared at them. He hadn’t moved an inch and that wolf didn’t seem to bother him.

The children waited, nothing else they could do.

’That horse must have quite a kick.’

The voice wasn’t hostile, but it gave them a fright anyhow.

‘Relax. If I meant harm, you would have been skinned by now.’

‘Skinned?’ Leki asked before she thought of keeping her mouth shut. The stranger didn’t answer that. She was a slender woman, dressed in furs and leather. She had kind eyes of a wild kind. Her left arm hang next to her body, holding on to something big that Kyell couldn’t make out.

‘The horse can kill you with one blow.’ Kyell threatened her.

‘So can I.’ The stranger lifted her arm and with a single movement she loaded what appeared to be a big blunderbuss with a leaver that made the gun make a half turn in her hand.

Kyell stepped in front of Petta, trying to swallow his words.
’Is that your owl?’ Leki asked her, seemingly less afraid for some reason.

‘She accompanies me yes, can’t say that I own her. Same goes for the wolf by the way.’

‘You tamed a wolf?’ Kyell pondered.

‘They are her friends Kyell.’ Leki corrected. ‘Right?’

‘Indeed they are.’

‘Your friends are scary.’

‘Good. They should be.’

The stranger sat down, holding her blunderbuss up straight. Kyell couldn’t help but be amazed at the technical marvel this weapon was. He whispered very softly to Leki: ‘Not even Kildur has this.’

‘Actually, it was Kildur who made this.’ The stranger replied, while it was impossible for anyone to hear this clear. ‘And next time that I see the drunken bastard, I will get his behind for letting two children run about unprotected.’

‘We aren’t alone.’ Kyell lied.

‘Don’t even try little man. There isn’t another human being, or anything that resembles human for that matter, in miles around. Just the three of us, kids. Oh, and all these friends of ours of course.’ She smiled.

‘Did you buy that gun from Kildur than?’ Leki inquired, more to clear the air than an actual interest in technical wonders.

‘He gave it to me, if you care to know.’

‘Leki, that is the gun from his wall, the one that was missing from his prize collection. The one he said he gave away to the best hunter he ever raised!’

Kyell tried to fit it in his mind but he couldn’t.

‘You can’t be raised by Kildur, you’re… euh… you’re too…’

‘… big?’

Leki giggled, her brother needed everything to fit logically. She had by now sensed in the way the stranger talked about Kildur, she had to be akin to him, or very close friends at least.

‘My name is Laynah. And yes: I was raised by Kildur and his dwarves in the mountains, and yes it is his gun that I am privileged to use.’

‘I’m Leki, and the one with the cracking brain is Kyell. Oh, and our friend here is Petta, the horse.’

‘How come you are alone here? Surely Kildur did not let you leave on your own when you visited him.’

‘He didn’t. One of his lieutenants came with us. A very rude drunken dwarf, but in fact the bravest dwarf that ever existed: Muredin. He risked his life for us, and we had to run while he stayed behind to fight.’

‘That’s Muredin for you. Any idea what happened to him?’

‘No. He told us to stay in these forests, whatever happened. Do you know what we are supposed to find here?’

‘Nothing. I think I was supposed to find the two of you. Muredin knows well enough I am scouting these woods. Can you tell me where the fighting was, and what exactly you were attacked by?’

The children told Laynah everything they could remember, as confusing as it was since they had no idea about places or the way they went.

‘First the two of you need to get to a safe spot. Than I will go find Muredin and see if that drunk needs another drink, or some real help.’

‘You don’t seem to worried.’

‘She is, Kyell, she just not showing it.’

‘Young lady, you seem to read both animals and people in a rather scary fashion.’

‘Well, I’m not the one who has a killer owl and a wolf as friends.’

‘You’re bound to make even stranger friends, the way you sense things…’

‘What exactly do you do in these woods? What does ‘scouting’ mean exactly?’ Kyell wondered, a little uneasy with that last prophecy about Leki.

‘I am hunting down an animal.’

‘To kill it?’

‘To find it.’

‘What kind of animal?’

‘That depends. One day it leaves bear traces, the next birdmarks. Pretty hard to keep track of, but I’ll get her after this is done.
First things first, break up camp you two, we’re leaving.’

30-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The big wooden wagon was pulled through the small streets. Petta’s hooves went cling clang on the cobble stones. Laynah took no fancy to the city, she avoided going there as much as possible. This didn’t mean she didn’t know the city however, she could find her way in that maze just as easy as in her beloved forests. It was still early so she had little trouble guiding them to their destination without passing too much other traffic. The children weren’t sleeping, they sat inside the wagon, as Laynah asked, but watched as much of this exciting city as they could through the windows.

The wagon held still at the back gate of a big house. It had plants climbing up along the doors, all the way up the outer wall. Laynah didn’t step of the box, it seems they were expected. She looked back at the children inside the wagon: ‘We’re here.’
The gate were opened by a woman with long light hair. Leki couldn’t see her yet, but immediately she noticed her lovely smell. From the green plants at the gate on, she had sensed a multitude of enchanting scents. But the loveliest of them all was the scent this woman had herself. It wasn’t simply sweet, or spicy. It had a very distinct nature, strong in a very very soft way. Leki could see this woman merely from smelling her, every detail of her being was revealed to her. She liked their new host. Kyell was using his eyes and he too, liked what he saw. The lady was charming, both in appearance as in the way she welcomed them. In fact, she greeted Petta first, gently stroking her neck. At Laynah she merely nodded, knowingly.

‘Welcome to my house children. Feel free to take your time to get to know it.’

A strange welcoming Kyell thought, but it put his mind at ease a bit at least. Leki gasped at the colouring of all the flowers and plants in the courtyard. There wasn’t a wall which wasn’t covered for the most part. And those smells! She fell in love with this house even before entering it.
The wagon was parked in a big open corridor, under the side part of the house. Petta was merely loosened, free to wander the courtyard. A little pond, eatable plants, ‘She’ll be fine.’ The lady said.

Laynah wrapped up her weapons in her cape. ‘Children, this lady here is Sentinella. She will be hosting you till we get everything sorted, ok?’

‘Direct as always Laynah,’ Sentinella smiled, ‘I will host them when they feel like being hosted.’ She said it with such friendliness the children couldn’t help but smile at her. She had the sweetest voice, not sugary sweet mind you, more flowery sweet.
’We will be inside children, just through that door there, drinking tea and eating biscuits I’ve conjured up. Feel free to join us when you please.’ Leki liked the idea of conjuring up tea and biscuits, even just in a manner of speaking. The lady reminded her of Keezul and the marshmallows they roasted over the engine of his huffing puffing mobile.
Kyell looked after Petta first, not that she needed much attending but he couldn’t just leave her there so fast. Leki enjoyed the flowers, the colours and most of all: the scents. Petta already liked it there, Leki understood; they could all relax and rest a bit.

Inside Laynah was reporting about the ambush and how the children described her what happened to Muredin. Sentinella listened it seemed, but she was primarily occupied with feeding pieces of biscuits to Laynah’s owl. ‘He’s not a pet, I wouldn’t risk too much there…’

Sentinella nodded, not a pet, yes yes, and brought another piece of biscuit to the bird who eagerly pinched it out of her hand with his sharp beak.

Leki was the first to enter, Kyell followed close behind. Sentinella pointed a several seats and chairs all over the room. ‘Or you could just sit on the floor of course, it’s a nice soft rug.’

Kyell picked the rocking chair, rather fast before Leki would see it, and Leki herself sat down on a lovely wooden chair with lots of curls and an embroidered cushion.

‘These biscuits may be magic in nature, they still won’t fly into your mouths by themselves.’ Sentinella told them in a very soft but serious voice. ‘The tea might, but you’d still want a cup to catch it than.’ The children went over and made their pick. The biscuits had a warm oven fresh smell to them, while the tea revealed hints of cinnamon and liquorice.

Suddenly a small copper bell sounded, a rather playful light tinkling. Sentinella put down her cup and sighed, not with much grieve but still. ‘Oh dear: customers. What to do with this much work at once? I think I am in need of an assistant, the shop is simply getting far too busy today.’ She looked at Leki, who immediately popped up from her chair. ‘At your service, M’am.’ She followed Sentinella to the front of the house. In the hallway she whispered to the lady: ‘What kind of shop am I actually assisting, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Sentinella stopped, took a long deep breath and went on her way again. Was that her answer?

Upon opening the door to the shop, Leki understood what Sentinella meant. She drew a long deep breath herself and inhaled all the wonderful colourful scents of a perfumery. There were little bottles everywhere, shelves filled with them, and small cupboards, bottles upon small stands and tiny bottles on silver chains to carry with you. All the different scents didn’t fight at all. Instead the smells that went together, passed you and made place for the next chords of scents. It was like a symphony, going elegantly from soft to exciting, all very moving.

‘Good morning Mrs Devoria. This is my niece Leki, who will be assisting me in the shop for a while. Anything I can help you with today?’ Sentinella was as natural as one could be about it. Mrs Devoria was admiring one of the more exquisite bottles near the window. She answered Sentinella’s greeting with a friendly nod and held up a piece of paper that seemed to be a shopping list. Leki didn’t hesitate: ‘Thank you Madam. I’ll give it to Aunti Senti so she can prepare it for you.’

Sentinella grinned, ‘Aunti Senti?’ she whispered behind the counter when Leki handed her over the paper. The girl just smiled innocently.

‘We’ll have it delivered to you this afternoon Mrs Devoria, except for the full moon shadow, that will take till the end of this month obviously.’

‘Obviously.’ The lady nodded once more and left the shop without further ado. Leki couldn’t wait to see how Sentinella would fill out the things needed on the list.

The first thing that Sentinella took, was a small silver penknife. She handed over a small basket with bottles to Leki and put a leather pouch on top of it. The pouch seemed filled with flacons. They went back to the garden. Kyell was back with Petta, as Laynah seemed to be preparing to leave.

‘I am going to get Muredin.’ Was all she said.

Sentinella looked at Leki, hinting at the pouch with flacons. Leki understood and handed them over to Laynah. The hunter took them a bit weary.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course, just don’t blow up the city on your way out. I know you don’t feel much for it but I happen to like it still.’ Sentinella smiled. ‘Oh, and do invite Muredin for tea. It’s been such a long time since I had one from the mountains here.’

There was no telling if she was being sarcastic or not. Sentinella had her own sense of humour, sharp and sweet at the same time.

With a screech the owl flew out of the house, not looking at Laynah it went straight on it’s way. The gate opened, Laynah was on foot but in a moment she was nowhere to be seen anymore. Heavily packed as she had to be, she sure was fast on her feet.

‘Now for Mrs Devoria’s order. Could you bring me the vials please niece, I think these flowers are just at the perfect level of sunshine to be drained a bit of essence from. While Leki brought her the basket, Sentinella took the penknife, made a miniscule cut into one of the petals, and a few tiny yellow drops came glowing down.

Kyell watched her every move. These were no ordinary flowers for sure. And that lady was no ordinary lady either. There is a lot more going on here than meets the eye, he thought. The very moment Sentinella looked at him, smiling.

25-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

‘Do you think Laynah will find Muredin?’ Kyell asked but was actually afraid of the answer. Sentinella had a comforting smile: ‘There is nothing Laynah can not find, my boy. The only question here is in what state he will be when she finds him.’

That last bit was less comforting actually. Kyell wondered what Laynah would do when she found Muredin. Those things that attacked them still ran shivers down his spine. He wished Malika was there with them, she was never afraid. Their mother seemed so far away. Every day new things happened and it all got so confusing at this point. Ileya took care of their mother as best as she could. At first he didn’t trust that wild woman, but after hearing Kildur say she was likely the best healer he had ever seen, he was less sceptical.  Leki sensed his thoughts, and she shared his worries.

They had been staying in Sentinella’s house for two days now. She took them with her in the city.  They weren’t walking together however. Sentinella first explained the children the way they should be taking, than she let them walk in front while she would stay behind as a stranger. They only joined up when they reached their destination, which could be anything from one of the customers in the perfumery to the bakery, or merely a statue of interest, or a special building like town hall. Today it was a little park, children playing and people letting their dogs out. It all seemed so peaceful. It wasn’t, not as soon as you scratched the surface.

’Stay here till I am back children. Don’t leave the park, under any circumstance.’ Sentinella turned around, put her scarf over her head again and walked back down the street they just came from.
Kyell and Leki were a bit uneasy at first, but soon they realised they had been alone in much more dangerous places than a little park before noon. Nevertheless, they didn’t feel much like playing carelessly as the other children were doing. Malika, their mother was fighting a deadly disease, Muredin had risked his life to save theirs and now Laynah went after him alone. They felt guilty jus for being in a park, let alone play in it.

Leki walked amongst the plants and flowers a bit, never out of line of sight. Kyell just sat there on the bench. He found some distraction in analysing how every plaything was created, but it all was too easy for him. No challenging mechanic was used.

A young couple in love came sitting on the same bench as Kyell. They were all cuddling and hugging, and she was chirring like a little bird. Kyell was very uneasy with their presence, to say the least. Still he didn’t simply get up. The boy from the couple, a man hardly in his twenties if that old, looked over the girl’s shoulder and laughed. ‘Oh Missy, I think we may have intruded on someone’s privacy again!’ The girl looked behind, giggling. She had the deepest blue eyes Kyell had ever seen. The young man held out his hand to Kyell: ‘Please to meet you good sir, and sorry for disturbing your worries. My name is Kexon, jack of all trades, master of more…’

Was it really that obvious Kyell had been worrying? While he shook the stranger’s hand, he questioned himself. It wasn’t like him to reveal his thoughts that easy on the outside. After all his sister Leki was enough of a mind reader to make you feel naked al the time anyhow. He decided to play his cards: ‘I wasn’t that worried, more interested in how all those complicated playthings over there work.’

Kexon smiled: ‘Why not go try them than, that will surely give you a much better view on their functionality. Proof of the pudding is in the eating, and all that, you know.’

‘I’m not the adventurous type.’

‘Than you should have brought a book…’
’Left it at home. A rather fun book with lots of drawings in it.’

‘A shame my friend. Maybe next time you should ask your father to bring it to you.’

This stranger Kexon mentioning his dad alarmed Kyell even more. He raised his left hand to his knee, fingers open. One of the signs he and Leki came up with for situations where they best not talk directly. This sign meant: beware! He tried not to give in to looking in Leki’s direction. He had to trust blindly that she would notice the sign in time.

‘I’ll ask my father when we get home, but I’m sure he will tell me I have to look after my own things.’

‘You would be surprised how much a father sometimes looks after his son, without you even realising it.’

Kyell didn’t bite. ‘Guess so.’ was all he uttered, as unimpressed as he could.
The girl with the blue eyes stood up. ‘We better leave this gentleman alone Kexon, I think we have disturbed him enough.’ She had a high pitched voice, a bit playful. Kexon seemed to stand up, but in fact he bent over the bench a bit and took out a curved dagger. With the sharp point he carved a little heart in the bench. He shifted the dagger to his left hand and stretched out his right to Kyell. While they shook hands again, he let the dagger turn through his fingers. Missy sighed giggling: ‘He’s such a show of, never mind him.’ Still she kissed the carved out heart just before turning around.

Kexon paused a moment and than turned to Kyell: ‘You would do best not to linger around here too long, after all you have a visitor at the house.’ Kyell gasped, for a second he lost his defenses there.

As Leki came running to him, asking who these people were, Kyell saw Sentinella walk over to the entrance of the park. Had this Missy actually seen her coming this much in advance? This couldn’t be it had to be a coincidence they left at the exact moment before Sentinella would see them. Kyell tried to answer Leki’s questions but he realised he couldn’t tell her much she could use. Sentinella came over to them, and immediately understood something had happened. She listened and took a deep breath. ‘Too clean for the sewers, but that means they are far more dangerous. Let’s head home children, and see what visitor we are supposed to have waiting for us.’

Sentinella stayed right with them on the way back. Whoever this Kexon and his girl were, they would surely not be fooled by those few yards in between them. They entered by the back gate again. Upon entering Leki looked back and saw Sentinella nod at the plants on the walls. She could have sworn she saw the ranks move. Not that this surprised her: Leki had felt all along these plants were guarding the house like a watch dog.

‘Do you think they can enter this house sentinella, I mean if they are really dangerous as you say?’

‘My dear girl, if anyone, or anything was able to enter this house without my consent, they would have done so ages ago.’ She smiled and added: And to be perfectly honest: I’ve been hoping for years someone would actually try.’

The fountains and the pond all seemed very lively as they passed, Leki noticed the water being extremely cold. Something she had observed by the very lady of the house herself: the way her skin felt cold on the touch, whenever she was cautious or alarmed.

Sentinella checked the house but it was truly empty. No uninvited guests had arrived at least. The shop door was open as always, but she hang a sign at the door, saying ‘Do come back another time.’

Still, the little silver bell rang, albeit a bit more feisty. Sentinella put her cup down, Leki saw how the tea in it formed a thin layer of ice that very instant. It didn’t stay long, but it had indeed been frozen in a split second. Still Sentinella appeared careless as ever as she made her way to the front. ‘You can take the afternoon of, my assistant, surely you deserved it’. Now Leki was really worried. So was Kyell. With the sign on the door of the shop this couldn’t have been a customer. They had a visitor, just like Kexon said they would.

The seconds ticked all too heavy. Both children were unsure whether to hide or go help. Eventually they heard Sentinella come back, chattering with another lady. They entered the salon and Sentinella said: ‘Children, I think you have already met Shaandra in the village? She has word of your mother: her condition is stable, Ileya is keeping her alive the best she can. But other problems have arisen. Not for your mother. For you.’

20-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

Shaandra had come to the city to get ingredients for Biggy. She visited the city quite often in fact, which was a rather long trip to make from the little village. The route she took obviously didn’t pass by Kildur’s mountains or the forests where Laynah dwelled lately. There was a winding road leaving the city to the coast that actually passed the village rather close. The children had taken the longer route, going to Kildur first.
The only thing was: not many people dared to make that trip, because it was still pretty dangerous by road, even for a priest. Especially one carrying valuable medicine.

Shaandra was surprised to find these children here, especially in Sentinella’s house. She assumed the children were with Kildur. Biggy hadn’t filled her in on Ileya’s plan to let the children go to Littlefather for help. A bit odd really, since Shaandra was not only Biggy’s eager student these days, but Littlefather actually was the elder of the priest order Shaandra belonged to. If anyone, she could have acted as a messenger. In the end it was Ileya’s decision, Biggy probably just respected her wish not to inform Shaandra. Ileya was bound on getting the mother Malika to Littlefather. And since that wasn’t possible, she settled for sending her children on that journey. It seemed Ileya especially wanted the girl to meet Littlefather, for whatever reason that might have been. In all this, she didn’t have the need to involve Shaandra, so she didn’t. Ileya was simple like that.

Shaandra listened to the story the children had to tell about the fights they were in with Muredin, and how they were brought here by that hunter Laynah. Shaandra frowned when she hear mention that name but she said nothing. Kyell took note of this: ‘She knows Laynah obviously but still she doesn’t respond, this means she has something to hide.’

There was another thing bothering him. Shaandra had left the village a week after the children themselves left with Keezul. The route she took, by road, was about three days travel. So, what had she done the remaining days? She didn’t mention any special stops, other than the inns along the way that she frequented every time. There were a few days missing in her story. Not that Kyell thought it was his business what a priest like Shaandra did, but the thing what made him suspicious was the fact she described in detail to Sentinella how the trip went. Leaving out a few days apparently…

The day was drawing to it’s end. At the gate Shaandra and Sentinella were discussing the meeting the children had with Kexon and his blue eyed missus. Shaandra let her hand glide along the ranks of the plants on the outer wall. She seemed impressed.

‘Let them try’ Sentinella laughed. As she noticed Leki coming close they stopped their conversation. Sentinella changed subject so blatantly obvious that Leki couldn’t help but giggle at the secrecy. Sentinella gave her that knowing smile again.

‘Are you ready children?’

‘Kyell is there with Petta. She really wants to get out again. As lovely as this garden is, she prefers going about and pulling things.’

‘I know dear, but for now she’ll have to settle for nibbling at my flowers and my plants. Rest assured, she’ll come out a stronger horse even still.’

‘Stronger? Think that’s hardly possible.’

‘Don’t underestimate my little garden my dear cousin, it’s far more nutritious than you can imagine.’

‘Cousin?’ Shaandra frowned.

‘Of course. But we it’s time to go children, before Shaandra gets tangled up in these here lovely ranks.’

‘We want to be back here before dark children,’ Shaandra said, ‘that’s one part of the city you don’t want to be caught after dark.’ The children didn’t like this, Leki wanted to turn to Sentinella but she already went back inside and the ranks were closing around the gate.

The two of them going to a dangerous place, and with Shaandra of all people. Kyell didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all.

Shaandra was taking them to one of the priest temples in the lower city, near the area known as the sewers in fact. One of the priests there had a way of making contact with Ileya’s cove. Shaandra didn’t explain how this would be achieved, no matter how much Kyell uttered no such thing was technically possible. Still the prospect of contacting their mother in some way, made the children hopefull nonetheless. No matter how unlikely.

As they went on their way down the street, they were being observed from high above. Across the street of Sentinella’s house, way up on the roof, a young rascal was playing catch with his dagger, while a lady with the bluest eyes was doing handstands on the edge. As the three went on their way down the street, the two upon the rooftops moved too. Always a few houses behind, jumping on roof and walls, they followed Shaandra and the children.
Every once in a while Shaandra stopped to look behind. Kyell was mistrusting and couldn’t help but wonder: was she checking that they weren’t being followed, or checking that they were?

The attack started at the bridge to the lower city. The one hovering low over the cottages and barracks. A beggar suddenly lashed out and hit Shaandra with his stick. She took the blow but grabbed his arm and scratched open his skin with her fingernail. The man immediately collapsed catching his breath. The gamblers at the coin-in-a-cup stand suddenly rushed forward as one, all but waiting on the opening signal. Shaandra blew a purple cloud of dust to their face and the first ones to catch it coughed and gasped, almost scratching open their own faces. Shaandra moved slow but well coordinated. Whatever she did, she always made sure the children were behind her.

A fast small man actually could get behind Shaandra but as she merely looked at him with a stare that made Leki scream in terror herself, the man stumbled back. He fell and crawled back even more, as fast as he humanly could. Shaandra didn’t even waste time watching him fall over the edge.

The attackers didn’t give up but tried to get themselves together. Shaandra was not waiting anymore. One of the men stepping back she threw something at, it left a dirty brown stain on his shirt. He swayed from left to right, fell upon his companion. The next moment the other had a the brown stains too. As he looked at what appeared to be some strange paint actually spreading, both of them started throwing up. In a moment’s time they were reduced to nothing but two miserable crawling creatures in agony.

Shaandra missed that one had ran away from very early on. This one came back with a few more, holding in fact small crossbows. Shaandra backed of at this point, pushing the children to the side.

She jumped over the edge, tumbling and twirling. Her blue eyes glimmered with excitement and joy. She did round kicks and dance moves all in the same motion. Shaandra tried to defend but she couldn’t get even the smallest scratch in. however she tried, Missy avoided her every move and kept dancing in front of her eyes. Her every move was a surprise attack, every turn was a kick, every sway held punches too. Shaandra lost concentration but one small moment and immediately Missy seized the opportunity to swipe her of her feet.

As if it was rehearsed that way, Kexon came hopping over the sidewall of the bridge too. His dagger hit Shaandra in the shoulder, pinning her down to the ground in effect. Bolts were flying from the crossbows and a few of the men came close again as well. Kexon stepped up to Kyell, greeted him and grabbed him before he could react. The next moment Kexon jumped of the bridge, to the cottages below. He took Kyell with him. Missy did a few back flips, not stopping for the edge and she plummeted down as well.

Shaandra pulled Leki close to her with all her strength. She put her hand on her mouth, Leki felt how she shoved a few leaves between her lips. ‘Chew!’ Shaandra ordered. The leaves gave of an incredibly fresh taste, too light to bear. The very moment an enormous cloud blew up around them, Leki felt like she couldn’t breathe except for the forced freshness of the leaves. She chewed for her life. Shaandra had taken her up and was running back over the bridge. Leki lost track of what happened. Everything went blurry from that moment on, her longs set on white fire. The wailing of men behind her was the last thing she could make out.

That, and the bumping of being carried too fast…

15-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

Leki was still exhausted from the poisonous gas she inhaled. Those leaves may have saved her life, it’s not like they actually blocked all the poison out completely. She insisted on sleeping outside with Petta. Not merely for being with their trusted horse, but also because she preferred being in a natural environment over any house, even one as lovely as this one.

Sentinella agreed surprisingly fast to this. Not only could the horse protect Leki if needed, but the fresh air would do her good. Not to mention all the beneficial scents from the flowers in the courtyard. Sentinella had one additional reason for letting Leki sleep outside: her plants could protect her far better than any of the magic inside the house could.

Sentinella’s skin felt cold as ice when she tucked Leki in. Shaandra was looking after the wound in her shoulder, using some of Sentinella’s more potent healing herbs. Sentinella spoke calm and smiling as always: ‘I’m going to get your brother back, he’s been out for far too long now.’ Leki nodded, she hated being too weak to join her.

‘Are you going alone?’

‘Yes dear, Shaandra needs to rest as well.’ Sentinella looked at Shaandra with a caring smile, but Shaandra clearly wanted to disagree with her. She didn’t, in the end she was indeed too weak to be of help.

‘Aunty Senti, there were too many. You won’t make it on your own.’

‘First of all: there are many more than those you’ve seen. Second: they won’t stand a chance.’

‘There’s always the thing you didn’t expect Aunty.’

‘Very wise words my dear cousin. I promise you I won’t get careless than. Now you go to sleep, because I really do have to go get your brother now.’

Sentinella always left the house with her blue lace scarf draped over her long blond hair. At this point at night, when the first light started creeping in, she looked more angelic than ever. Her breath came out in frost clouds, her step was elegant yet fast paced. An angel of revenge, if any.

She stopped at the bridge to the lower city. A woman was sitting there, feeding the pigeons. Sentinella walked up to her. Without further introduction she addressed the lady whom she didn’t know at all. Still her senses had revealed the awareness the woman had of her, and the way she observed her.

‘Go to the leader of that pack of rats of yours and tell him that the lady of the house of scents has come to pick up the boy.’

‘Are you drunk? I have no idea what you are rambling about.’

‘If you make me repeat yourself, you will die in the process.’ Sentinella smiled at the woman and straight after jumped of the bridge, just above the big round sewer exit. A little pond seemed to stretch up to break her landing. She hardly even bent her knees upon hitting the floor.  

The sewers weren’t all sewers, they were mainly underground water canals. They were used primarily before the lake was dammed, now they were merely there as a security option: if the dam would break, these tunnels could direct the water away from the houses and buildings of the upper city.

Enormous tubes in stone that were filled only for a little part most of the time, leaving enough room to walk alongside of the water. It was the maze where anything dwelled that couldn’t stand up in the light of day. The water was rather shallow this high up in the maze, but it would get to a small stream further in. Sentinella walked into the puddles, going straight on.

A few vagabonds hang out in there, they welcomed a fresh sight like Sentinella. Not only was she an attractive woman, she also appeared rather wealthy with her lace and gloves and all. One extremely scruffy woman was the first to come up to her, while one of the men tried to block her way back out. Sentinella looked at him and said: ‘I have no intention at all of running away, so you shouldn’t bother.’ The woman scorned her, while reaching out for her scarf. Sentinella stamped her foot and immediately the wrinkles in the water chained up around the legs of the woman. ‘Step aside please, once you can of course. I have neither the time nor the intent to end up in a brawl with the likes of you.’ The woman gazed at how the icy chains fell of her feet again. She backed of, but the man behind Sentinella did not. She merely kicked up some more water. It formed a ball of ice as fast as looking. The next moment it stomped him in the lower stomach, very low in fact. ‘Go cool of, before I lose my temper with you lot.’ A few icicles flew about, not particularly aimed to hit anyone specific.

They ran, all of them, in different directions. A few ran further down the tunnel she was headed for. Of to warn the others. More would be waiting for her, she was sure.

The light got more dim, but somehow the water shimmered on. Sentinella approached the group waiting for her. These weren’t beggars anymore, these were the first of the fighters. With slow distinct movements she took of her lace gloves. She let her scarf down from her head and her hair hang loose.
Two men with knives came up to her. Water twirled under her hands, it moved in a spiral up to her fingers as she awaited their attack. On the first move one made she let go a wave of small but sharp ice blades from her left hand. Most blades passed them but a few hit their arms and chest, cutting them like small knives indeed. The next moment the ice dissolved to water and only the open wounds remained. She walked on, inviting more to try their best. The fight ensued with a fierce brutality. One had a long stick he turned and twirled in a deadly fashion. An ice lance from her left hand again pierced his shoulder and knocked him back. A chain of connected blades swooped from her left, ripping open the legs of many. Ice bullets sprang around in circles as she stomped her foot. Sentinella was in a chilling rage. Nothing would stop her from going through to the boss of this lot. The one she knew that was holding Kyell. There were many attackers but nothing they could do from being severely cut by unstoppable weapons. Sentinella had to do nothing it seemed to summon these blades and chains of ice. She walked, mutilating anyone foolish enough to step in her path.

From a far she heard a voice with authority yell out: ‘Get back you idiots, wait for her. She’ll rip you apart one by one.’

‘My first opponent.’ She had a wicked smile as she said it, sweeping the last one running from his feet with a sharp chain again.

The tunnel took an opening, in front she saw the man who had called the others back. He held a torch, his black hair matched his dark red robes.

‘Charming,’ Sentinella said, ‘but not the leader I’m looking for.

‘Don’t get near her men. Let her come to us if she desperately wants to die.’ He was cautious but not afraid. Neither was Sentinella and she walked on, merely to amuse him. In the middle of the water, she stood still: ‘Is this spot good for your strategy? Since it is for mine, and it would be nice if we could agree on those.’

He kept silent, waving his arm around at his men, who moved along the walls on both sides.

Bowstrings were strung, bolts were mounted on the crossbows and bullets were loaded. The man lifted his torch, he didn’t intend to fight her up close.

Sentinella stood there, waiting politely till they were all ready. ‘Do try not to miss because it would be rather silly if one side ended up shooting the other.’ Several men repositioned themselves when they realised they were indeed standing straight opposite the others.

The man grinned at her when he gave the signal with his torch. An endless chain of clicking, swooping, banging and twirling sounds was unleashed. In the same fraction of a second the first projectiles were launched, a cone of water blasted up around Sentinella. In the blink of an eye she was covered by a massive block of ice protecting her from anything coming her way. Not only the arrows and even bullets could not pierce this rock of ice, but they all ricocheted back in some direction. They all flung to one side or another, several indeed hitting some of the men. The group panicked and their first reaction was to move out, even if by than the shooting was done. From inside her block Sentinella let the water spread out as an enormous slick of ice no one could remain standing on. Now they panicked for real. You couldn’t run on the ice, only those few that remained calm could actually walk. Next was the crackling of the entire block of ice, into what had to be a zillion little cuts. The man with the torch was the only one standing still. ‘Get out! It’s going to shatter.’ His men and women tried to move out on the ice, falling and crawling over each other. The crackling stopped and next they knew the massive rock of ice exploded into an endless wave of sharp projectiles. Most hit the upper part of the stone tunnel at first, as the waves came lower in direction. It was as if they were given time to get away before being shred to pieces.

Amidst this rain of ice bullets, a cone of fire was hissing at the wall. A corner was the only real cover he could use to hide, trying to stay out of the line of sight while burning of the incoming ice.

Sentinella stood there in the same spot still. She had not moved an inch.

The man with the torch came from around that corner there as well, the last one standing in fact. The others had either been struck or they fled.

‘You are not the one in command. Tell him to give me the boy and I will be on my way again.’ She was relaxed and friendly. Nothing hostile in her voice, while the struck and the wounded were dragged away.

‘The boss already gave me his answer. He said: kill her.’

‘How practical.’

The man waved his torch as he spoke to her. Hissing was heard where his fire met the water. He drew out a long blade as well. Rather swift in his movements with it.

‘Aw.’

‘What?’

‘Such a disappointment. I thought you would put up a good fight but if you think you need to rely on a sword than I gave you too much credit.’

He sneered. He demonstrated his skills with his sword for a moment, but deep down he had to know she was right. But maybe he counted on her being right. His sword might not have been his most lethal weapon, but it sure was his fastest.

He launched towards her, sliding on the ice. It turned to water again and he jumped. It moved from under his feet altogether and he swiftly started running on the lower bottom. He was fast on his feet and his reactions were perfect. She could not fool him, or stop him.
His sword swept passed her face, almost cutting her face open. Sentinella’s eyes were on the torch, lashing flame tongues at her from the failed distraction of the sword. She avoided his dashing attacks.

One moment he felt his sword was stuck. Sentinella didn’t look away from the torch, but he did. The man was amazed by what he saw: she held his sword by the blade with her bare hand. The metal froze up. His hand could barely hold the clinging cold. He tried to warm his hand, but he knew he couldn’t without using his torch for that. His torch?

That very moment he realised his mistake as his hand with the torch suddenly felt cold and numb. A shield of ice so thin and sharp, like a guillotine, rushed up next to him. It came up extremely fast. He knew he had been distracted by his own sword: she had used it against him to draw his attention away from the fire he wielded in his other hand. His strongest weapon.  The torch fell to the water, and even though he felt nothing at all, he could see his hand fall with it.
The water under his feet swelled again and in one blow threw him back to the wall. She had let go of his sword and it was still frozen to his hand. With the hand she released the sword from, Sentinella formed a lance of ice, twirling it up from the water to her fingertips.

As his back hit the cold damp stones of the wall, he pulled his head in with his last efforts. That instant he saw the lance fly towards him, in that last blink. It pierced his chest instantly. There was no pain, everything was cold.

Sentinella looked at him with kindness in her eyes, and a little compassion for his own foolishness.

He gasped for air.

‘I will be getting the boy now. Could you tell me where to find that boss of yours now?’

‘He will kill you, child or no child.’

Sentinella nodded kindly. As she gave him a light but cold kiss, he felt the lance dissolve into water again and flow from his body. It flowed endlessly.

10-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

It had been a couple of days. As the first thing she had taken those children to Sentinella’s place in the city. It seemed the safest place to bring them to, leaving them on their own in the forest was no option. It was only a few hours from where Laynah found the children to Sentinella’s house of scents in the city. No other place close by was this secure, given that the children didn’t wonder about too much. The city had many area’s that were far too dangerous to dwell carelessly in. Had Laynah known Shaandra would arrive at Sentinella’s house, she might not have left the children there.
Laynah still didn’t understand why the children were sent out on their own, with their mother being sick and all. What kind of medicine requires the children of a sick woman to go to the healer? It didn’t make sense at all. But seeing as both that ‘crazy woman with the wild eyes’ as Kildur agreed with this plan, Laynah figured there had to be a good reason for it all. She smiled at the description Kyell gave of Ileya, that woman was crazy indeed…

Laynah followed the trail of the children back, even though she knew exactly where it would end. Smart move of Muredin though, sending them over the wade in the river into the forest. They were bound to run into her, Laynah figured. Or better: she was bound to pick up their tracks pretty soon. A big wooden house on wheels and a massive horse leave a trail that’s hard to miss.

In her mind Laynah went over every word of the children’s recollection of the events. Retracing the route they had taken was easy enough, even though the children had lost all sense of direction in the panic of fleeing away. In fact: merely mentioning the grave on the hill was sufficient for Laynah, she had been at that stone often herself. Although she had to admit she never noticed the part of it being turned around, even less so the part of it being empty. If that was correct of course. Something she would investigate as well, once the rest of the work was done.
First she tried to asses the situation as good as possible. What kind of creatures were they up against here? The recollection of the children didn’t correspond with anything she had seen, none of the animals she ever came across fitted this description. Laynah had knowledge of just about any living thing between the Stone Desert and the Open Sea, so this whole affair worried her.

She took her time, Laynah tried not to miss any detail. The road itself showed almost no usable tracks, except the heavy carvings of the wheels of the wagon where it turned. Once she came to the grass down the hill, things became more interesting though. The grass was high enough to hide in, which seemed convenient for these creatures. On the ground Laynah found all sorts of traces. There had been fighting even there, this far down the slope. The children said that their horse Petta had steered clear of most, if not all of the pursuers. Muredin had been drawing the attention of almost all of them during the whole escape. Still there were markings left by fighting there as well, not even near the wagon tracks. They had been fighting amongst themselves it seems. There was a faint stain of blood here or there, but never a lot. In fact: there was always less blood than the fighting would have suggested. Maybe they tried to drink it all when it was fresh…

Whatever these things were, they could jump far and high, leaping like cats. Just the same they turned and twisted upon landing. Still the marks were not those of cats or wolves. Laynah made out hands and fingers here or there, albeit with claws rather than nails. Footprints as well, deeper in the ground than normal, from setting of with more power than humans normally posses. Laynah found this extremely fascinating: the markings were a bit like her own if she was on a move. Almost like her sister in fact, just before she turned completely. Her sister… all this side business better not let her lose track of her again. For a moment Laynah imagined her sister wandering further and further of, than she returned to the matters at hand.

These creatures might have had exceptional strength, between beasts and men, they sure seemed rather dumb. They fought among each other, and what was worse: they got distracted by the slightest change. Laynah could make out parts where a group had been sneaking through the grass but than stopped and started fighting amongst themselves. Just like they were tracks where they ran fast and than simply changed direction away from where the wagon must have been. Upon following this change of direction, Laynah could make out another spot where a wounded one was killed of and likely eaten.
The weird part was that the chaotic running about seemed the norm, but at given moments they all moved as one again. From different spots at the same time, all of a sudden they focused again. As if someone was whipping them up, time after time forcing the creatures to keep going for the real objective. That goal, in this case, was the wagon and Muredin. As far as Laynah could deduct, when given this signal, they moved for the wagon first. Still most were drawn more uphill to where Muredin must have been fighting. To him, or to the bodies he lied there for them to gnaw on… That dwarf sure did a good job distracting the whole lot. Both the strong hatred to fight an enemy slaughtering them one by one, as well as the unstoppable hunger for the blood of those he had slain. He got their attention one way or the other.
So these things fought each other primarily, or whatever closest to them, and had to be ordered to move to a given target. Still, a simple distraction could easily distract them, in this case: a crazy dwarf hacking them to pieces. This left Laynah with two important questions: what kind of creature is this self destructive, and more importantly: who or what was giving these orders? Laynah looked up to where the grave was, thinking of what that girl Leki had said. Leki could feel things others couldn’t, so maybe she could feel things even Laynah had no knowledge of. In the end the hunter felt a connection to al living creatures, not to anything dead, or worse.

Laynah inspected all tracks and traces all over the hillside, slowly moving up the slope from left to right. She re-enacted the entire scene in her mind, going from mark to mark. She could make out much more of the events than the children had been aware of. Likely even more than Muredin had noticed, even though he hardly ever missed a thing no matter how much was going on, or how much he had to drink.

The whole time while Laynah was doing this, there was rustling in the grass around her. Things were moving about. She smiled and ignored it all. Her blunderbuss was hanging over her shoulder, using it sometimes as walking stick.

All the rustling from a far aside, there was one soft noise coming closer. Something crawled up to her in the grass behind. She knew it was different from the other rustling that was going on. Apparently one of the creatures was feeling lucky today. Laynah could move this fluently you didn’t take notice of it, even though you were looking straight at it. She could take a piece of meat out of a bear’s mouth as he was waiting to attack her, this fast but also this naturally her movements were. Laynah turned around and looked the thing straight in the eye. It hunched, not expecting to be suddenly gazed upon by the prey it was stalking from behind. The turning around hadn’t startled it, it probably didn’t even really notice it until it actually looked into the eyes of the hunter. Laynah used the time to investigate every aspect of this pitiful creature, never letting go of the eye contact.

This thing had pain and suffering in its eyes, and most of all it was hungry. The kind of insatiable, uncontrollable hunger sharks have when there is blood in the water. More like a dog with rabies, Laynah realised. The thing waited, unsure what to do. It had been human once, but now it was reduced to a state even below that of an animal. Laynah observed it carefully: the remaining human basic form, the parts where a dirty fur grew, the claws and teeth, the enhanced muscle tonus, and mostly it’s eyes that lacked any form of intelligence. This was a deformation, done by who knows what kind of foul magic. It must have been of recent doing, since Laynah never saw anything of the likes before, in all her travelling about. But recent as it may be, such a transformation was still unseen by any breeding standards.

The creature gazed upon Laynah, biding it’s time. It swayed a bit from left to right, sitting there on all fours ready to jump. It was drooling at Laynah, still it had no clear focus in its eyes. The thing most noticeable in its eyes was the pain it suffered. This thing wanted to die, more than anything else, Laynah realised. What was more: it seemed to be decaying. The fur was hanging lose at parts, the skin burst open without real cause. Even if it wasn’t killed, it would still die very very soon. This explained how so much fighting happened amongst themselves: if they were this hungry for blood and they were dying at any point, it was to be expected they turn on each other all the time.

It had to do something, it was getting confused by the eyes of the hunter. Turning back was something this creature did not have the intelligence for. It could attack, or it could die trying. There were no real options. The delay was due to the fact it was mesmerised by the look in Laynah’s eyes, not because it was weighing its options.
Laynah jumped forward, before the creature did. The blade at the end of the blunderbuss pierced its neck, as the hunter landed on top of the hunching creature. The speed at which this occurred made sure the poor thing never even realised fully it was done for. Laynah killed not easy, but when she did, it happened at the blink of an eye. She had taken the time needed to make her assessment, and than passed judgement in a split second. Laynah’s fingernails scratched the metal of the blunderbuss: they had grown to small claws the instant she jumped. She smiled looking at her fingers, her claws were always the first sign that gave her away.

Her nails got pulled in again, she relaxed and looked around. Swiftly she addressed the deadly wound in the neck of the creature, she didn’t allow any blood to be spilled. Having more of these things jumping about, was not what she wanted at this point.

Up the hill she went, carrying the dead body of the creature with her. She still followed tracks but it was clear she knew exactly where to go. The part of investigating was over, it was time to go find the dwarf.
‘A brave dwarf hides under a rock when things go rough, the bravest of all dwarves becomes that rock himself.’

Countless times she had heard Muredin use this saying of his own making. Not many knew what he meant by it, most saw it as another of his drunken ravings. Laynah knew better: the moment she heard the boy Kyell mention that Muredin was the bravest dwarf that ever existed, she knew what he had been up to. Laynah carried the dead thing further up the hill, to a point somewhere in the middle. She stopped at a big rock lying in the grass.

‘Let’s see how brave this rock really is…’

05-05-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The rustling never ceased, it went against the wind and was far too irregular to be of natural cause. Laynah stood in the middle of the hillside, the furthest away from any cover possible. She wasn’t disturbed by the rustling at all. There were many things moving about in the high grass, the activity close by was from a different nature than the threatening rustling near the edges. Around her there was a comforting business, while at the edges of the grass plain she noticed many of those creatures looking her way. Maybe they sensed the corpse of one of their kind, even though Laynah had made sure there wasn’t any blood spilled to draw attention from. She was ready for them, that was what all the friendly rustling was about in fact, all that comforting business…

Way up high she saw the tree part where the grave was. She would check that out later, first things first though. The big rock in front of her lied there out of place. She hit it with her foot once, as if she was making sure it wasn’t going to move.
‘A brave dwarf hides under a rock when things go rough, the bravest of all dwarves becomes that rock himself.’

This time she cited it from the top of her voice.
For a moment nothing happened, but than the rock seemed to soften up in the sunlight. It lost some of its dark greyness, some of the veins became less edged. Those veins soon became clear as being nothing but folds in the fabric. This whole thing wasn’t stone, or at least it wasn’t anymore now. Bit by bit one could see the contours of a lying shape. A broad short figure, covered in a leather tunic and with a dark beard draped over the larger part of it. It wasn’t simply a visual change, a few moments before there had been a rock hard stone there. Now there was a dwarf lying still in the grass, his hands covering his face.

Laynah took the dead creature she was holding and held the ugly twisted face straight above Muredin’s face. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, and she held it there very lightly, unnoticeable. She waited, knowing he would take his time to fully awaken.
Muredin wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t already have his own opener though. He made the first sound that was heard from him, half conscious only, still coming back from his lethargic state.
He burped.

Loud.

Laynah held back her laugh, trying not to give away the little surprise she had for him. Muredin opened his eyes. The very instant a small fright escaped his lips, catching him not fully in control of his actions yet. He instinctively grabbed the dead thing’s throat and reached for his axe with his other hand.

‘What a girly squeal.’ Laynah giggled.

‘I’m going to slap you silly with this dead thing!’ Muredin rose up and already held the corpse above his head.

‘Keep it down, at the moment you’re holding up lunch to his friends under the trees over there.’

He calmed down, lowered the thing, and looked over to the side of the hill.

‘They’re still there you reckon?’

‘I doubt they even went away. They have been watching me for over an hour now. My guess is that they have been there since the fight a few days ago.’

‘Over an hour here already? A few days ago? You bloody took your time to come and wake me, didn’t you? It’s nice to see I am on your priority list!’

‘Relax. Now that you’re no longer breaking their teeth when they bite you, I’m sure they will come for the both of us any moment now.’

‘I see you caught one without it being eaten by the rest of them.’

‘The trick is to make sure it doesn’t bleed, you should have figured that out yourself.’

‘I’ll try to use my axes in a more surgical fashion next time.’

Muredin turned both his heavy small axes around in his hands.

‘You do realise I actually wanted them to be eaten by the rest, right lass?’

‘If you say so… Did you notice anything odd in their behaviour, like being commanded in some way?’

‘Indeed I did: something was controlling them. Odd thing was: I never saw anything myself giving any orders.’

‘The little girl, Leki, claims she saw that ghost from the grave commanding them.’

‘What? That Tekshi woman?’

‘Seems so.’

Muredin looked over to where the gravestone was, in fact a bit concerned.

‘Do you think that girl can know such things? I mean: she gave me the impression of being a bit sensitive in an odd fashion already. Like that horse they have, it’s like the girl can understand every word that animal snorts.’

‘That horse can outsmart you any day. But yes: I am convinced that girl picks up things others don’t. She can feel animals almost the same as I can, for example.’

Muredin frowned.

‘Not control them, relax. She’s no family. She can read into their feelings mostly. But in the end it’s a weaker version of the same: I don’t really control anyone, they merely offer to help me all the time.’ Laynah laughed, but at the same time loaded her blunderbuss. She had her own way of doing that. Kildur had designed the weapon with a lever to reload very fast, bullet after bullet from the built in storage. Where Kildur himself loaded the gun by holding it straight up, pinned to the ground, and using his free hand to pull the lever, Laynah simply swung the weapon holding it one handed by the lever only. She let it turn back and forth thus switching the mechanic. Muredin had come up with that idea of handling this gun. Something others saw as blasphemy since it was by far the best gun Kildur had ever designed. The dwarven leader himself merely said that if the gun couldn’t take that type of handling, it was made for the wrong purpose and should be used for clay pigeon shooting only.

‘So, what’s the plan for this than? If they are looking at us for dinner, than how you figure we get out of here?’

Laynah said nothing and pulled the dead creature up from the ground again.

‘Throw it.’ She pulled it at the feet of the stou dwarf.

‘Come again?’

‘I don’t plan of getting out of here at all. These things are dying as we speak anyhow, and the only right thing to do is release them from their misery.’

‘Sounds reasonable. Ok for you if I don’t do it out of philanthropy like you, but merely out of bloody revenge?’

‘Whatever makes you feel happy good sir.’

‘So let me get this straight: I throw the thing, they jump it and we… run in and slay all hundreds of them before they notice us?’

‘That’s about right, apart from maybe the running in. I would advise letting them run to us instead.’

‘Why? They are bloody fast, you know.’

‘Not fast enough.’ Laynah nodded at the dead thing still lying at Muredin’s feet.

 ‘Still there must be hundreds still alive.’

‘Hence the ‘not run in’ part.’

‘Just spit it out already, what are you up to?’

‘Throw it near that bush there. When they run in, some surprises are waiting for them. Even this much of a party it will totally block them from getting to us.’

‘Sounds lovely, but what do I do than? Spit on them from here?’

‘You focus on the other side of the hill, they will come from the right as well.’

Muredin looked over the other side, mumbling something.

‘We kill that side first, by than it should be easy to finish of the initial bunch on the left here.’

‘So that was what you have been doing instead of saving me straight away. But how exactly can you be sure they didn’t notice you laying down a trap or two?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Oh, you let your little friends do all the hard work again, did you…’

‘You should know by now I never fight alone.’

‘Of course you don’t, I’m always there to cover your skinny back.’

‘One more remark like that and I’ll be kissing you.’

Muredin spit on the ground.

‘Throw the dam thing already, will you.’

‘Too heavy for your delicate back?’ Muredin took up the corpse and held it behind him. With a massive swing he launched it way up in the air. It flew higher than you would expect even from a dwarf. In mid air Laynah suddenly shot the flying body. Blood splattered as it flew it’s last end. With a dull smack it hit the grassy ground not too far from the designated spot.

Muredin gave Laynah a dirty look. She raised her shoulders in innocence. He sighed.

‘You missed the bush, but it will do I guess.’ Laynah reloaded.

‘Want me to hurl you over there too, so you can carry it back here and I throw it again?’

The bait worked, especially after spilling blood in mid flight. From under the trees on left side the grass started moving a lot. They tried to remain hidden to some extend, but soon their hunger took over and the first ones were leaping forward with a remarkable speed. It was a matter of seconds before one reached the corpse. Muredin looked at Laynah: wasn’t something supposed to happen now?

‘One.’ she counted.

Two followed very soon after, closely followed by three and four.

Upon Laynah saying: ‘Five.’ flames rose up in a long line to the left, from above that bush till all the way down to the road almost. It burned those first creatures at the corpse, and it startled all the others running in. As they backed of, looking for a way around the fire, a second explosion came, louder now. Behind them, close to the trees on the left in fact, more fire rose up. Heavier and wider spread this time. At this point all the creatures that had rushed from the left side of the hill were trapped. The traps were delayed just enough so they would all have rushed in. Muredin made a complement on the traps, but he didn’t look at Laynah.

‘Those critters have done a nice job.’

‘They have been rustling to and fro for ever, but not one of those creatures had the sense of looking at anything other than me.’

‘Maybe they don’t eat mice and rats and hamsters, or whatever it was this time you had laying your traps for you.’

Laynah smiled and let the fires do their job. They had another side of the hill to worry about now.

Of course there was a whole bunch of creatures on the right side too. Triggered less by that dead body flying to the left, they still were moving out. Not in as big a mass as their unlucky mates on the other side. Hiding in the grass more, focusing on the dwarf and the hunter in their sight. Still stirred just the same by all the shooting and exploding that was done.
Muredin moved out to meet them. He duck a bit in the grass, and in fact he became less noticeable as he progressed further.

‘Mind the fires.’

He looked over at Laynah who was grinning wickedly.

‘Great, more traps from rodents…’

The fires on the right side spawned random here and there, simply triggered by the first creature running into them. The fires were blue-ish this time though. Muredin questioned Laynah, who was still standing behind him, waiting.

‘I got some flacons from the lady of the house of scents.’

As the first creature moved between the fires without getting caught, he jumped for Muredin. One hard blow of a small but heavy axe later it dropped dead to the ground. Funnily enough the second one getting there jumped the fallen one instead of Muredin. A second axe hammered it down on top of it’s desired mate.

‘By the way: she says you’re invited for tea.’

‘Lovely. Could you stop chattering now perhaps?’

Two creatures leaped for Muredin, confused but aroused by the fires. Laynah shot one, he avoided while she reloaded swiftly, and she shot the second.

‘Slowpoke.’

The dwarf rushed in now, not awaiting any more to reach him but going out to look for them himself amongst the fires. He was fast as ever, his axes hacking and slashing at every turn. Laynah was shooting from the middle still. Not a single creature ever got close enough to reach her alive. In the midst of the fires, Muredin noticed he wasn’t the only one fighting there. A grey wolf he recognised very well, was tearing at the creatures limbs. The wolf didn’t fight them full out however: he grabbed them and pulled them into one of the fires. Each time avoiding to be hit by the fire himself. That wolf was fast, but above all he was tenacious.

‘I’ll be damned,’ laughed Muredin, ‘that I should be taking lessons from a wolf!’ Upon which he simply tossed the nearest creature at hand into a fire. And than he knocked back the next, into the fire. He punched one while his axe stuck into the previous one still. Both into the fire again. Those blue flames devoured those poor creatures. Being burned meant instant death. It seemed a cold but lethal fire. Flaming ice, Muredin called it. That Sentinella sure knew how to brew a potion…

The entire bunch on the right side was being caught in flames and turned to each other out of sheer desperation. Meantime, Muredin and the wolf held a big clean up at the right side, throwing anything that moved into that purgatory blue fire. Laynah simply stood there shooting, as if she was mainly waiting for the important part to happen yet.

It happened. As by command all of the creatures, on either side even, started fighting each other. They fought ferociously and really tried to kill each other. Any one of them being thus clawed or bitten immediately got jumped by all the others near. They ignored the fires, and they ignored Muredin, Laynah and the wolf.

This was the sign Laynah had been waiting for.

‘They have been given an order Muredin, we have to find whoever did that!’

Muredin searched his surroundings as good as his keen eyes could. The wolf dashed of to the trees on the left side. Over the trees at the left an owl suddenly was searing in circles, looking for one in command as well. Laynah did her best to pick up any signal in between the fires and the howling of the last creatures killing of each other.

No one could find anything. The owl came down to sit on Laynah’s wrist. The wolf still scouted the tree side, but not picking up any trail. Muredin was rounding up the last creatures in the remaining fires. He too had seen nothing.
Laynah looked up at the grave, decided. Muredin saw that and he sighed. He knew she would turn that grave inside out, following down every worm that as much as nibbled on the rotten flesh. She wouldn’t stop until she was a hundred percent sure where the corpse went. To the last fingernail…

He didn’t like meddling with the dead. He didn’t like it at all.

30-04-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

He sat on a bench to the side, reading a book. The big seat, which looked like an improvised throne, was empty. The whole room was overly decorated, in a rather kitschy fashion. As if the gold paint and fake inlaid jewellery were aimed at proving he had the status of a worldly leader. It was something that kept his minions happy he figured: the feel of having a rich and important leader. In the end he figured that fear and bribery were the real incentives, but he played along with the flashy display of luxury. It was the sewers after all, anything shiny stood out from the muck and mud…

Sentinella came walking in that overly ornamented room. Not her decorating style, at all. She let her fingers glide over some of the stones set in the wood of the balustrade. A touch of frost remained. How fake could you get? It was so far from her own flowers and natural element it hurt her eyes. There were mirrors everywhere, in all shapes and sizes. She straightened her hair and checked her dress for blood marks. Meanwhile she observed him sitting there reading.

‘Good book?’

He ignored her.

‘I came to get the boy.’

Still he said nothing. As he turned a page, he first looked at her.

‘Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no boy here.’

‘We saw you take him away at the bridge. So now I’m here to take him home.’

‘Look, I’m reading here. Try getting your facts straight without my help for a moment.’

A ball of ice was forming in the palm of Sentinella’s hand. Without as much as looking at it, the man on the bench continued: ‘First of all, you saw nothing. That priest did, and maybe even the little girl. Speaking of which: is she for sale?’

The ball of ice hit the man straight in the face. Blood splattered on the impact, yet he seemed unmoved. He wiped the blood from his forehead and there was no wound to be seen. Sentinella seemed puzzled for a moment. Only at that point he put down the book. He had indeed been holding it all through that hit to the head. Puzzling her apparently was his main aim.

‘People call me just Q, but you can simply bow for me.’

She sneered, ready to strike again.

‘Just Q? Does that make ‘Just’ your first name than?’

He chuckled, clearly unimpressed: ‘Your wits get worse once you start doubting your actions mylady. Being witty when being wrong is probably what makes a good leader a great one.’

Sentinella hated this guy more by the minute, she was ready to knock his head straight of by now.

‘Two things mylady. First of you didn’t see a thing. Second: that priest saw the boy being carried away when we were attacking.’

Sentinella waited, he was stating the obvious so far.

‘Now, for the sake of argument: let’s say the ones attacking, being us, weren’t in the same party as the ones snatching away that boy, being not us, if the first assumption is correct.’

He had her there. Shaandra had told her Kyell was being taken away by this gang, but what if it was a third party indeed? Sentinella had no way of knowing what had in fact occurred precisely. She cursed herself for going on Shaandra’s word this easy. What was worse: she sensed this man, this ‘Q’ wasn’t lying to her.

‘You have the boy or not?’

‘See above.’

Sentinella was furious, mostly at herself. She turned around in a forced silence.

‘Sorry for the intrusion into what must surely be your deepest thoughts, my dear lady, but do you actually hold it possible to simply walk out of here after, for lack of a better word: slaughtering my best men?’

‘I only took out those that came into my way.’ She knew she was justifying herself at this point. She felt a minor nuisance, like a headache getting worse. She ignored it.

‘You must be a laugh at Sunday markets…’

Sentinella looked at him. As much as she hated admitting being wrong, she still welcomed any excuse to silencing this gang leader forever. Even ‘just’ for speaking too much.

Q stood up and without a warning a lance of ice struck him. Sentinella had lost her patience. She wanted to get this over as fast as possible and go look for Kyell.

Q’s body slammed against the wall, pulling several curtains down with him. The ice lance pierced him and dissolved. His hands were covered in blood as he pressed the wound. The bleeding stopped as soon as it started. He coughed, more to clear his voice than anything else.

Sentinella’s head was pounding, her knees felt a little wobbly too.

‘Not that I wouldn’t roll over and die for you mylady, but haven’t you forgotten a little detail?’

She looked at him amazed. No one had ever survived such a strike before, and there he was barely scratched. That headache had gotten worse, and her stomach was upset now as well from all the emotions.

‘I think, correct me if I’m wrong, but I indeed think that you forgot to ask me who it was than that snatched the boy away from all of us.’

‘Do you know?’

‘That’s beside the point. The issue I was pressing for is: do you want to know if I know.’

It was a rain of small ice knives, she didn’t stop before even the smallest piece of ugly ornament was pierced. Not one wound he could lay his hands on, his entire body seemed ripped to shreds.

Skin deep. Not deeper. Like a bunch of thumb nails exploded in his face. The ice melted down to water and washed the little wounds clear. Scratches, and than even less. Sentinella’s stomach felt like it burned. She was ready to throw up any moment. That headache was pounding hard now, thinking clear was getting hard. Her legs could barely hold her up. She did her best to cover up that her nose was in fact bleeding.

‘I’ll help you out here: I actually know.’

Sentinella was at a loss now. She let him do his speech, or whatever it was he was doing while surviving her most brutal attacks. The worst part was standing straight upon her feet. Her nosebleed getting worse and painfull, her stomach throwing up acids worse than gall. The pounding in her head was unbearable by now. On top of it all every single of her teeth ached like it would fall out any moment. Still she bore with him, keeping herself from collapsing.

‘I’m not going to tell you.’

He sat down again and picked up his book, focused on finding his page back that he lost on that first hit to the head.

Sentinella was forcing out her last strength to strike at him, but she threw up blood instead. Her nosebleed was making her head light, while the headache hammered her brains down. She sighed to her feet as he looked over the edge of his book. He didn’t get up, but he observed her collapsing with a keen and interested eye.

‘I’ll tell you, seeing as it’s the last you’ll ever hear. Scaramance himself put a price on getting his hands on that boy alive. So apparently a playful couple of lovely lovebirds decided it was a good opportunity to cross me. It seems they found it good sport to take our prey from us.’

Sentinella gasped for air but only swallowed her own blood.

‘That young couple will pay for their betrayal of course, once we found them that is.’

This man really talked too much, Sentinella hated that more than anything else she was going through that moment.

‘Now doesn’t that make you wonder? What makes that boy so interesting that Scaramance wants him so bad?’

‘Why don’t you ask him than?’

Two backsides of small but very heavy axes hit Q on both sides of the head. He got stunned so bad by these knocks he couldn’t do a thing to recover. Next moment Muredin cut his throat and dropped him helpless to the floor. He had a way with magicians like that. Nothing to be proud of, but very effective nonetheless. For a moment he hesitated to cut of his tongue too, but than he rushed over to Sentinella who was smiling at him with red teeth, still coughing up nasty.

‘Think we both need a cup of tea.’ Muredin took the woman in his strong arms and ran out. Leaving Q for dead.

She adressed his throat with a cold balm. The wound got stable.

‘Where did that dwarf fit into your plan?’ Q’s voice was hoarse and weak.

‘He didn’t. You were supposed to kill her. But I guess the other way around works too.’

‘Note to self: I’m not dead yet.’

Q felt his throat to make sure. He immediately felt something was wrong here, in a way his healing touch couldn’t help. The wound at his throat was indeed closed again, but inside he felt a poison burn him. It was out of reach: it didn’t touch his skin at any point.

His skin was where the healing came from. His hands were merely the tools he used the most easily to get in touch with his skin. But for what it mattered: his entire skin was where this healing magic was active. Nothing could pierce him permanently, and any wound healed back up merely from coming in contact with his skin. The only way Muredin had been able to cut him up like that, was because the dwarf knocked him unconscious first. Q still had to be somewhat active to do his healing, he could be distracted but not entirely unconscious.

Now this poison burned him up from inside, unreachable to heal exactly because of his regenerating skin itself.

‘Balance must be. And you just fell on the wrong end of it my friend.’

Shaandra left him behind scratching his skin open, it healed up at every scratch. Even with a knife he wouldn’t reach the poison inside. The few weak curses he threw at her, she easily cured drinking a potion or two against headaches and stomach pains…

25-04-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim  

The plants on the wall opened their ranks as soon as Muredin arrived with Sentinella. The scent of her garden alone already cleared the air for her. She was still coughing up blood and couldn’t stand up straight without help.
One flask from that shelf, a piece of cloth from the cupboard, a seed or two from a little plant near the window, and of course: tea. Sentinella meddled about, almost blindly. The headache was cluttering her vision, but in her own House of Scents she knew where everything was by heart. Muredin helped her where he could, but as far as all the meddling with herbs and flowers went, he stuck to putting the kettle with water on. Sentinella lied down on the sofa only after putting the tea in the pot. She held up that flask and tried pouring a few small drops of it in her cup. Things didn’t go smooth yet, but at least it wasn’t getting worse anymore. With a faint gesture she motioned Muredin to sit down as well, and maybe have a cup of tea and a biscuit.

‘Where are Shaandra and Leki? I could use their help at the moment, I think.’

Muredin stood up and took a paper from the table. He handed it to Sentinella who tried reading it as good as her headache allowed. The small drops she had put in her cup of tea were showing their beneficial effect already. Things were clearing up somewhat in her mind.

‘Well I’ll be darned, if you don’t mind the expression.’

Muredin nodded ever so politely, agreeing on the use of such a word for the occasion.

‘Have you read it? Oh, of course you have, how else you would know where to come look for me…’

‘Indeed, the mentioning of you going to get Kyell back from that gang in the sewers at the bridge side, sort of gave me a hint.’

‘Thank you for that by the way. It would have taken an eternity to get that blabbering idiot down.’

‘To be perfectly honest here, he did have you nearly dead with sickness and all.’

‘I still had a trick or two up my sleeves.’ Sentinella inspected those mentioned sleeves, they were filthy from all the blood she coughed up, as well as the constant nose bleeding.

‘I’m sure you did, but I figured I would speed things up. Sorry if I interfered where I shouldn’t have.’

‘You did fine.’ She smiled at the robust dwarf holding the porcelain cup. He chuckled, sipping from the tea.

The paper Muredin handed to Sentinella was a letter from Leki. After Sentinella had set out to find Kyell, Shaandra too had left the house. It seemed Shaandra miraculously recovered from her poisoning rather fast, once Sentinella was gone. Leki didn’t say it in so many words but she clearly found this suspicious enough not to stay behind herself.

Muredin was going over a lot of things in his mind, most of which neither he nor Sentinella had an answer to. One thing he did ask though: ‘May I inquire how that little girl managed to get past your plants on the outer wall? I would imagine them letting Shaandra pass, but clearly they should have stopped Leki from leaving on her own.’

‘That girl probably just asked them or something. She has a way with living things I have not often seen.’

‘Funny enough Laynah mentioned something likewise, but in fact she said that Leki felt things but could not control them.’

‘Hmm, could be right. Than indeed it’s a mystery how the plants have let her pass.’

‘Shaandra can enter and leave the shop at will?’

‘Yes, but only the shop.’

‘The letter was pinned to the backdoor of the shop, at the side of the hall.’

‘Are you saying she followed Shaandra out through the shop? That is very unlikely my dear rescuing friend. This could not be done without Shaandra being aware of this.’

‘Exactly my point.’

‘You mean that Shaandra knew Leki was about to follow her, and she deliberately let her?’

Muredin finished his tea and stood up.

‘This can’t be true. Why would Shaandra do this? What does she have to gain by having Leki run after her? She might as well have taken her with her than, whatever her motives were for having Leki out with her.’

‘First question is: where is Shaandra now. Only than we can get an idea of where Leki could be.’

Sentinella coughed again, as she tried to get up.

‘I think you should stay and recover. I’ll go looking for them alone.’

‘Oh well, I only tend to blow things up anyhow. Not my style to do discrete investigating.’

Muredin nodded again, very understanding.

‘If I would have control over this city, I would clear out those sewers entirely.’

‘Than you would have clean sewers and other places filled with hiding criminals… And are you planning to run for mayor next elections than?’ Muredin chuckled at the idea.

‘You know, I might. Who has been controlling the most powerful resource this city has, for all these years?’ Sentinella referred to the well at her courtyard. This was where the true magic of her plants and flowers came from. The well was the point where the living veins of this city came together. The water in those veins made everything living flourish. Its power was so great, that Sentinella had dedicated her life to guarding it.

‘Well, good luck on the campaign and say hi to the Nuncio from me when he establishes your post.’ That last part he said with a sneer. Any mayor of the city, or any official at all for that matter, had to be acknowledged and approved by the Nuncio.

Sentinella didn’t want to start an argument about the Nuncio versus the Queen. There would always be someone in power, and they would always have something powerful to force their will upon others with. The Queen was gone for years now. Maybe it was time if people accepted the fact power had shifted, for better or for worse. Simply living in the past did not help anyone.

Sentinella kept her thoughts to herself though. She knew Muredin was of Kildur’s clan, and that old dwarf clung to the Queen till his last breath. Sentinella was more practical in these things: she cared about the day to day life of people, and what they needed was stability, not an ongoing subversive war. Not that she liked the Nuncio one bit, but in the end they had to accept the fact that the Queen was gone.

‘One more thing, the thing that Q said: did you know that Scaramance had put a price on Kyell’s head?’

‘No I didn’t Muredin. And I never could stand that Scaramance fellow. There is no telling what dirty business he is involved in. Not that I know him personally. But isn’t that the whole point: no one seems to know him…’

Muredin kept silent.

‘It seems that Kexon and that girl of his have Kyell, two vagabond nobodies. The children had met them in the park earlier. Q mentioned the boy being snatched away by a pair of lovebirds.’

‘Never heard of those two. But if they were brave enough to take Kyell away in the midst of an action by Q’s pack of muttons, they sure got some nerve.’

‘I don’t like the fact that Scaramance would be after the boy Muredin, if Q was indeed right about that whole bounty thing.’

‘Do you think he was lying?’

‘He wasn’t lying, I’m sure. But he could be misinformed. Who says for sure that Scaramance wants the boy alive?’

‘Sentinella, we both know that when it comes to bounties, the gangs in the sewers are never misinformed…’

Sentinella didn’t answer to that last part. She closed her eyes and tried to rest.

Muredin went out through the shop, first he had to pick up Shaandra’s trail, than find Leki. As for the boy: if Scaramance wanted him alive, he could at least be sure no one in his right mind would risk hurting but a hair on the boy’s head. Kyell seemed safe for now, wherever he was. Muredin spit on the ground when he got outside: ever since Kildur had assigned him with guarding the children, he had done nothing but lose track of them.

Leki had followed Shaandra. From the shop all the way to the narrow streets at the market. She had felt Shaandra was up to something. With Sentinella looking for Kyell, she saw no other option than going after Shaandra herself. Her only regret was that she didn’t dare to take Petta with her, but a big horse like that surely wasn’t fitted to follow someone discretely in the city.

Many people were about in the streets, especially as they approached the market place. Not many were selling things there since it wasn’t a Sunday, but the shops were open and the atmosphere in that part of the city was lively. Leki had a hard time trying to stay far enough behind not to be seen, yet close enough not to lose track of Shaandra. The priest seemed in a hurry, but she tried to walk at normal speed to not draw attention. Why was she going this way, Leki wondered. She remembered the way they took to the bridge where they were attacked and Kyell was snatched away. Now they went a different way altogether. Odd, since Shaandra had urged Leki she went out to look for Sentinella.

The narrow streets were a maze. Leki had to rush each turn to be just in time to see which way Shaandra turned. They entered that maze further each of those turns. It felt like she was getting caught in a spider’s web. Leki could feel the hostility of the people she crossed, their cautiousness, and their fear even. Several times she had to go down stone steps, or under little bridges. Those moments were the hardest to remain out of hearing range of Shaandra. At the first of several small tunnels, she hesitated. Either way: it was too late to turn back now. These had to be the Sewers, or almost. It seems Shaandra took an older route to the sewers, entering from where they first originated, in the old part of the city. Leki clenched the rope in her fist, but than relaxed her grip as she entered the shadows. Meme Uzuela had stressed it often enough: no rope can fly if you grab it too tight.

At first it was easy enough to follow the sound of Shaandra’s footsteps through the water echoing on the stone. A lot harder was it to not make those same sounds herself. Leki stayed clear of the water and took of her shoes. She had been hopping around barefoot her whole life anyhow. Shaandra turned up the pace. She went from one tunnel to another and sometimes even changed direction just like that. Did she know Leki was trying to follow her, or was she unsure where to go herself? Whichever it was, Leki couldn’t keep up without revealing herself. In the end she lost Shaandra. The tunnels were grimmer than before, and more desolate it seemed. Things were getting pitch dark, wherever this was, not many others had been there before…

Leki never noticed anything of the fight going on between Sentinella and Q’s gang, even though it was closer than she would have believed. Nor did she find Shaandra again, who had found her way to Q’s throne room by than.

Leki was lost in the dark, wandering the tunnels for what seemed hours on end. Aware of every drop of water that fell or every piece of stone that scratched. Doing her best to sense whatever living things were in there with her. For the most part she could feel none, but fear surely cluttered her perception of things. After a long time, she felt nothing anymore. She saw nothing and she heard nothing. Nothing except for the small drops of water from the ceiling. Trickling down, always one, never stopping, until they made the loudest noise in the universe.

20-04-2010 om 00:00 geschreven door Kim