Chapter 4

Author's note: for the situation with "Prince Peaville" to really be funny, you have to imagine him having the right accent. If you've seen the show 'Merlin' on Sci-Fi, Arthur's voice is about right.

Apotheosis

Chapter 4

Ben Campbell

 

            It was almost noon in Broden. Miara shooed a customer out of her store as a mother would shoo children out from under her feet.  I don’t like that simile quite as much as the others I think up for myself. Said customer made said simile an extended simile by complaining like a child. Nobility. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t operate a respectable establishment without their patronage.

            “But why do I have to leave?”

            “Because as an apothecary I sometimes give remedies to embarrassing medical conditions. As a rule of thumb, I don’t allow multiple customers in my shop at once for the protection of my patrons.”

            The noble �" Miara had forgotten his name, some minor baron of Peaville’s son, or something like that. For an elite class there sure were a lot of them �" peered out the door, evidently spotting Anna and Marcus.

            “But they’re peasants! Why do I have to wait for them?”

            “Because they have an appointment. Shoo.”

            Prince Peaville stared at her, and slowly complied. Anna looked over her shoulder at him as they passed through the door and gave Miara a quizzical look.

            “Well that was fun!”

            “You think that tormenting powerful people and risking their ire is fun?”

            “I have a few protections against their ‘ire’. One, officially, I have a court position. Two, I have a local monopoly. He can’t exactly take his business elsewhere. Marson, Culbert’s wizard, dabbles in alchemy, but he’s more into the thaumaturgical junk.”

            “Umm.... thaumaturgical?”

            “Nevermind. Have you decided?”

            “Yes...”

            Marcus took over.

            “Monetary concerns being the main limiting factor and given that we’ve already had remarkable luck getting this far without being burned alive.... we’ll take the untested version.”

            Anna spoke up again.

            “Speaking of money, are we going to have to sell our souls for this?”

            “Hardly. But the price does warrant some discussion. Keeping to my standard profit margin, I would charge one pegasus and two hawks. And maybe an extra sparrow or two if I didn’t like you.” Anna winced.

            “But, since I do like you two, and I sympathize with you, I would sell it at cost for fifteen hawks.” Still wincing.

            “But, considering that I would get to study the effects of a previously untested medicine, I might could offer a discount for scientific benefit, reducing it to, say, five hawks.”

            Anna interrupted her.

            “I think you should know that one hawk and three sparrows and a handful of tin bits is all the money we have. Unless you can think of some more excuses to lower your price, or have some use for a werewolf�"“

            “I do, actually.”

            “I was afraid of that.” groaned Marcus.

            “Yesterday, I was approached by a local gang’s tollman. He demanded 5 pegasi a month for ‘protection’. I'm no fool; I know how this works. He’s coming back at two O’clock today. I'm not submitting to them, but I also don’t trust the guards. They’re probably going to try and my store tonight, and I want to at least scare them off. I’d RATHER just scare them off, because I don’t want to get involved in anything larger than just this one confrontation. I figure... a werewolf is pretty scary. Not just because of the threat of being torn to bloody rags, but because no gangster would risk lycanthropy for something as petty as this.”

            “Oh.....” Marcus trailed off.

            “No. Absolutely not.” Anna refused for him.

            “Anna...” Marcus gently steered Anna to a corner. For a while Miara watched them, heads bowed in whispered conversation. After a minute Anna blushed, looked down, and nodded. Marcus turned back to Miara.

            “If we accepted your offer, would the potion be free?”

            “Yes.” Medicine, not potion.

            “Then, yes. Here’s the fur.” He handed her a small clump of thick, grey fur. Miara picked out three hairs and inspected them.

            “Excellent. Give me a few minutes to finish it.” She strode back to her workroom. As she went, there was a knock on the door, and an impatient and nobly accented voice called,

            “Are you quite done yet?” It was Prince Peaville again.

            Anna called to Miara,

            “Should we answer him?”

            “No, don’t answer. It annoys them to no end.”

            Anna grinned. Prince Peaville evidently did not.

            “What exactly are you doing in there?”

            Marcus suppressed a smile.

            “Answer me!” Prince Peaville was getting increasingly exasperated. Anna started to giggle.

            “Answer me! I command it!” Anna lost control and burst out laughing. Even Marcus had trouble suppressing a chuckle. Miara had her face buried in her arm.

            “STOP LAUGHING!”

            Miara was gasping for breath,

            “I think that’s enough. Let’s shut him up now.” She grabbed a bottle off of the counter and cracked open the door. Prince Peaville was about to knock again but stopped when he saw Miara. She held out her empty hand. “Three pegasi please.”

 Prince Peaville wordlessly handed her three silver coins. Miara handed him the bottle. “Pleasure doing business with you!” She slammed the door. Peaville was stunned silent a moment, then asked impudently,

            “Is that it?”

            The door flew open and Miara stood there, the picture of childish hope.

            “You mean you want to buy something else!?” Prince Peaville stared at her again, and the door flew shut just as quickly. Miara looked through the peephole. Peaville’s expression was priceless. He stared a moment more, shook his head and walked off.

            Anna had managed to suppress her laughter, but now it came out all at once. She had to hold on to Marcus to keep from falling to the ground. Her laughter finally infected Marcus and he began laughing too, albeit quietly. Miara had already sunk to the ground in helpless laughter and was sitting propped up against the door. A few minutes later they settled down, and Miara looked up.

            “Where were we again?”

            “You were going to finish the potion.” Anna replied.

            “Ah, yes.” Miara stood up and brushed off her pants. She managed to walk back to her work room without collapsing in laughter again.

            “Okay, you were right. That was fun!” Anna admitted.

            “I told you so! They react so much more.”

            Miara returned a few minutes later, flask in hand. Anna was standing under her own power now. Miara handed the flask to Marcus. Marcus looked skeptically down at the greenish liquid within. He glanced back up at Miara. Miara answered the hidden question.

            “Now would be good.”

            Marcus raised the flask in a mock toast.

            “For luck,” and he downed it in one gulp. He wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “Nasty.” He grimaced.

            “They usually are.”

            “Why does medicine always taste bad?” Anna mused.

            “It doesn’t always taste bad.”

            “So what now?” asked Marcus. “It didn’t come with instructions for how to shift, did it?”

            “Alas, no. You should start figuring it out soon, though.”

            “Do you live here?” asked Anna.

            “Umm..... yes. Why?”

            “Lycanthropy affects the body, but... um... not the clothes.”

            Understanding dawned on Miara’s face. She waved them back to her bedroom. Anna ducked her head and blushed as she went.

            Miara tapped her finger on the counter and exhaled. Damn, but I’ve got a lot of gall. It’s going to get me killed someday.

 Just hopefully not today.

 

            “He’s coming to.”

            Geoffrey felt the bed first, then the distinct lack of pain. He opened his eyes and saw Joshua, Hugh’s oldest son, standing over him.

            “Hello there. Aran claims that you should be able to stand up and walk around with no trouble.” Geoffrey lay still a moment, then decided to test Aran’s claim. He sat up and swung his legs over the left side, and stood up. He was in a small wooden-walled room with a closed door. A peasant’s house. He looked down at his right leg.

            “I distinctly remember this leg being broken.”

            “Left leg broken, laceration on left calf, left Achilles tendon severed, various cuts and scrapes from when you fell..... that’s what he said.” Geoffrey started. He hadn’t noticed Rosalin sitting to the right of the bed. “I guess he was right. He’ll want to talk to you, so stay here.” He heard footsteps outside. “There he is now. Impeccable timing as always...” The door creaked opened and Aran entered.

            “Ah. You’re up. Come on, no point in you all staying here.” He beckoned them forward, turned, and left. Geoffrey followed, then Joshua and Rosalin. They emerged outside near the wagons. Geoffrey’s curiosity got the better of him.

            “May I ask why I'm not dead? I could see how much I was bleeding...”

            “I gave you a healing potion.” was Aran’s prompt reply.

            “A potion healed all that overnight?”

            “Yes. Miara will be quite pleased to hear it.”

            “....Miara?”

            “The apothecary I bought the potion from. Nevermind. I assume you’ll want your stuff back.”

            “Yes please...”

            “Oh, speaking of which; I'm guessing that the guy who was lying on top of you feinted to get you in the leg, and as you collapsed, you twisted and thrust your sword up under his cuirass?”

            The assessment was scarily accurate.

            “Yes, that’s exactly what happened.”

            “Well, it worked pretty well. You killed him. Sword slid right in under the rib cage and popped his heart. I don’t know if you’re one of those mercs who count their kills, so I thought you’d like to know in case you are.”

            “What about the other guy in the little area I was in?”

            “The one with the huge lump on the back of his head? He’s fine. Just a concussion. Edge of your shield?”

            “Yes... and the one with the hole in his gut?”

            “He’s dying but I might be able to save him. You can count that as a kill; that was a mortal wound.”

            “Then that makes it nineteen kills.”

            “Nineteen! That’s pretty impressive. I'm afraid I have to disappoint you, though. I just broke a hundred yesterday.”

            “A hundred?!”

            “A hundred and two. And some before that.”

            “Vespa’s talons! How do you not have nightmares about it?!”

            “I make sure I have a good reason before I actually kill them. I.... sometimes get carried away...... anyway, I’ve defeated a lot more, but I try not to kill when I don’t need too. Oh, and I don’t count goblins, kobolds, any of those small humanoids that are more pests than threats. And I don’t count dragons.”

            “Vespa..... wait, dragons?”

            “Yes, dragons. I’ve got three of them.”

            “Bullshit.”

            “No, seriously. You can ask Hugh about it, he’s heard about one of them.”

            “Liar.”

            “Really!”

            “Whatever. How did you get that many anyway? You’re..... how old?”

            “Twenty-seven. I tend to seek out trouble rather than let trouble come to me.”

            “Do you warrior types always talk about these kinds of things?” Rosalin cut in. “Why can’t you just talk about the weather?”

            Geoffrey glanced sideways at Aran.

            “So.... nice weather we’re having?”

            “Spectacular.”

            They walked in silence a while. Rosalin eventually gave in.

            “Oh, fine. You win. So tell me about one of those dragons, Aran.”

            “Too late. We’re here.” They had arrived at a local inn. Aran graciously held the door and Geoffrey hung back. Rosalin gave them a little mock curtsey.

            “I wish MY son could be this polite.” Joshua rolled his eyes and went in. Geoffrey lingered outside.

            “Listen, Aran. You saved my life. I don’t need to tell you that I appreciate that, but I consider it a debt yet unpaid. If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to ask.”

            Aran smiled at him.

            “Yours is hardly first life I’ve saved, nor the only one here. But I’ll keep it in mind.” Geoffrey nodded and went in. Several... seven beds had been dragged into the taproom, and all were laden with wounded men. He spotted Curick and Daenoch and rushed over to them. Curick called out to him.

            “Hey, chief! Aren’t you supposed to be dead or something?”

            Geoffrey smiled.

            “Sorry, Curick, you didn’t get that lucky. What have I told you about going in over your head?”

            “Boss, we were all in over our heads. Besides, he cheated. He smashed my shield with that flail of his.”

            “I told you you should’ve gotten a metal shield at Gondael. Would’ve saved you a whole lot of pain and trouble.”

            “I’ll be sure to get me one when we get to some sort of civilization. But hey, we were lucky to only lose one man.”

            “Yeah.... but remember, we would’ve lost everyone if Aran hadn’t showed up.”

            “Yeah you’re right. Speaking of which. Hey ARAN!”

            “Yeah?” came the response.

            “Thanks for pullin’ our butts out of the fire! Why couldn’t you show up a bit earlier?!”

            “You’re welcome!”

            “How’s Daenoch?” Geoffrey cut in.

            “Eh. He’s asleep, as always.”

            “Good. Now shut up so he stays that way.”

            Curick rolled his eyes and gave a mock salute with his good arm.

            “Whatever you say, boss.”

            Aran looked over at the two of them and shook his head and smiled. Camaraderie was something he didn’t get much of, since he usually went solo.

            “Geoffrey, your stuff is over there in the corner. Go pick it up and come over here. One of these wounded men looks like he’s coming to.” He rested his hand on a bedpost and tapped his finger on it impatiently, waiting for the man to wake up. He was the surviving archer, the one who hadn’t been skewered through the chest.... Aran reminded himself once again to be a little more judicious in killing people.

            This one had a nasty cut on his back and a badly broken left arm. The cut Aran was able to mostly heal using his necromantic skills, but the arm was beyond him. He had healed the bruising, but that was about it. Hugh and co. had pulled out the bone shards manually and made a brace, but the man would be down for a while.

            Geoffrey appeared at his side.           

            “I’ll deal with my gear later.”

            Aran nodded. The archer opened his eyes. Aran had a theory, and even if the man didn’t know what was going on, his reactions might confirmed or refute his theory. The man tried to sit up, but failed.

            “Ow.” Okay, that was pretty predictable thought Aran. “Where am I?” The man looked around and spotted Aran and Geoffrey. “Who are you?” Also predictable.

            “My name is Aran. This is Geoffrey.”

            The man looked closer at Geoffrey.

            “I... remember you. I remember I was.... shooting at you. I want to apologize for that. That... that wasn’t my doing.”

            “And while we’re on that subject, I'm sorry for putting you in this state. You were shooting at my ride out. And while we’re on the other subject, what do you mean by it wasn’t your doing?”

            “Um..... forgiven.... I mean.... hang on, can I get some water? I'm thirsty as hell.....” Aran nodded and passed him his waterskin.

            “What’s your name?” asked Geoffrey. The man guzzled the water and passed the waterskin back.

            “Jiub. Um... I mean I wasn’t really.... in control. There’s been this... something, I dunno. Sometimes it takes over and makes me do stuff. Like it made the ten of us march over here and attack you people....”

            “But you are aware of what is happening, and can remember it afterwards?”

            “Yeah... yeah, that’s right.”

            “That rules out demonic possession. That’s good at least. Did this same... thing, did it make everyone abandon town?”

            “Far as I can tell, yeah.”

            “Describe what happened when it made you leave town.”

            “Well, it was just about nightfall, and I was returning from my rounds �" I'm a castle guard, I patrol the battlements and keep watch for anything interesting �" and I feel this thought, no... an idea, worming into my mind, and then I guess it... took over and it made me walk out of town and into this clearing in the woods �" “

            “Which direction out of town?” Aran interrupted.

            “Um... north. Yeah, north. Anyway there were some other people there, mostly civilians sitting on the ground, with these blank stares.... and there were also three other soldiers, or guards, same difference, really, same blank stares, standing around them, like they were preventing them from escaping. I got there, and drew my dagger, and I guess I was put to the same duty.... I guess they decided four guards for these 50-some people were enough, cause the civs kind of... ‘woke up’, I guess. And they got kinda panicky, which I guess is understandable. Anyway we.... killed a few of them trying to run, and they settled down after that... again, the thing made me do it.... and a bit later some other guards.... one I recognized as from the night shift... showed up and toke over, and the thing made me sit in the group of civilians and forced me asleep.

            “I woke up in the morning, and was briefly in control of myself, but then the thing retook control. More of the same guard duty, til’ it made get up and come over here...... say, what time is it?”

            “About an hour past noon. You’ve been out a while.” Aran provided

            “Mmmm......” The man exhaled and rested his head back on the pillow.

            “Could you show us where this clearing was? If you were fit to walk?” Aran added.

            “Um... yeah, probably. Why, you got a way to get me healed up quickly?”

            “Well.... no. You could probably walk now, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

            “Mmmmm..... at a pretty brisk walk, it was about half an hour away. Ummm.... I’d say, something like north-west-north from the main road leading out north.”

            “Thank you.”

            “You going to investigate?”

            “Yes. The convoy I'm with needs to resupply, and can’t really do that with hardly anyone here. Geoffrey.” Geoffrey focused on Aran. “Remember what you said earlier, and don’t follow me. Don’t end up owing me two favors.”

            “All right.”

            Aran nodded to the both of them, and strode out of the room, picking up his pack as he went. Okay, he’d gotten a location, and he knew it was magical in nature. If it had displaced a whole town... then it was some pretty damn powerful magic. Or just a lot of magicians. He might be able to track it with his druidic skills. If not, the dryad of that area would definitely be able to. I’ve never summoned a dryad before... that could complicate things. But it was his best bet. To the woods.

 

            It was two O’clock in Broden. Miara called back to Anna and Marcus from her workroom,

            “Any progress?”

            Anna’s voice called back.

            “No, still nothing.” Miara sighed.

            “Well, be quiet for a bit, the tollman should be here any minute now.”

            A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

            “Come in.”

            The tollman strode through the door, a yellow, crooked toothed smile crossing his face.

            “So... what shall it be?”

            “I have considered my options,” Miara began carefully, “And I have decided that �"“ Miara was interrupted by noises from her bedroom. They sounded like a dog in heat. D****t, Marcus, not now. Think fast, Miara.

            “What is that?” the tollman asked, with perhaps just a hint of trepidation in his voice.

            “Just ignore it. It’s just what happens when you mix wolfbane and demon adrenaline.” The tollman looked at her skeptically. “Yeah, I know. Scared me the first time I heard it too. Weird stuff happens in alchemy. This is nothing compared to mandrake root.” The sounds grew louder. “On second thought, perhaps I should check on it.” Miara walked to the door to her bedroom, out of the tollman’s sight. She peered inside. Anna had her arms wrapped around the muzzle of a massive wolf. Miara made a thumbs-ups and then frantic shushing motions. Anna nodded, and Marcus gave another grunt and fell silent. Miara gave a thumbs-up and returned to the front room. “There. Anyway, I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass on your offer.” The tollman smiled, but it was unconvincing.

            “I'm sorry to hear that. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He turned on his heel and strode out the door.

            What a weird way to end a conversation. Miara returned to her bedroom.

            “Is he still shifted?” she called at the doorway.

            “Yes. Come in.” came Anna’s response. Miara opened the door and entered. Anna had relaxed her hold on Marcus’s muzzle, and was now standing relaxed by his side with one hand on his back. Miara got a better look at Marcus’s wolf form. He looked like a normal wolf in shape, but he was a good foot and a half taller and two feet longer, nose to tail. He came up to Anna’s midriff. He was jet black, with a thick ruff of slightly lighter gray fur around his neck. He looked like a wolf, but you could tell he wasn’t just a normal wolf. Miara knelt down and looked in his eyes. They were green and intelligent, looking back at her expectantly. Marcus lifted his head and sniffed at her, just like a friendly dog would. He SHOULD be in full command of his intelligence. Anna evidently had the same thought.

            “How can we see if he still has his intelligence? The bloodlust is gone, or he probably would have mauled you by now.”

            Miara thought a moment. Then she stood up and walked to the mirror on the wall, took it down, brought it over to Marcus, and set it down so it was facing him. Marcus looked at his reflection, turning his head left and right. He opened his jaws and looked at his teeth. They were long and curved, and likely razor sharp. He turned around in a circle, keeping his eyes on his reflection.

            “Most animals would attack or run away from their own reflection.” Marcus managed a sort of nod. “I think that’s good enough confirmation. Now here’s a new problem. How do we get him back to human form? They may just mistake him for a big wolf if they don’t see him shift.”

            “Hmmm...... okay. You’ll have to leave again.” Miara nodded, stood up, replaced the mirror, and left the room. Okay, progress. Cross your fingers.

 

            Aran was walking in the woods north of Fyrna. He came upon a likely clearing and decided that here was as good a place as any. He removed his pauldrons, bracers, and cuirass, and unbuckled his sword and set them all in a pile by the edge of the clearing. He needed to divest himself of worked metal for a summoning of this magnitude to work. He sat down crossed-legged in the middle of the clearing. He closed eyes and immersed himself in the life around him. In a normal summoning, he would have to seek out a specific animal, and lure it to him. But he was trying to summon the spirit of the forest itself. So before he even started thinking about how to summon the dryad, he was going to get familiar with its home.

            The forest around Fyrna was a fairly peaceful one. The trees were loosely spaced and the underbrush was fairly sparse. Hiding places were uncommon, so predation was fairly light. There were many clearings like the one he was in. Birds were everywhere. Deer passed through, but rarely stayed long. However, there were enough to support some larger predators, like wolves. Aran couldn’t sense any bears, but there were a few foxes. Lots of squirrels and hedgehogs, too. The trees themselves were a mix of old growth deciduous and coniferous. The coniferous trees were steadily supplanting the deciduous as the predominant vegetation, but they weren’t there quite yet.

            There were several ways to summon an animal, but Aran’s preferred method was to emulate the animal, and it would come to him out of curiosity. It helped if you had a sense of that individual animal’s personality. Naturally, this didn’t work on all kinds of animals, but those animals were usually the small prey species that he could simply control through sheer force of will.

There was only one dryad for a section of forest, and dryads took on the personalities of their regions. In theory, if a city grew large enough, it would have a dryad of its own, but no city was that big. Cities were, as far as a dryad was concerned, just as natural as a beehive.  This lead Aran to another thought: dryads incorporate cities and towns as part of their personality. Fyrna has been displaced.... so the dryad I'm looking for will feel as though it’s missing something... hmmmm. Or it could feel like part of it is scattered everywhere... or somewhere between, depending on whether and how many of the people are within its domain..... that’s not very helpful.

            No, it’s not. But it’s enough. The slow, susurrating voice did not seem to emanate from any particular point.

            Aran came alert instantly. He opened his eyes, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

            Settle down, Aran. I haven’t taken a guise. I prefer not to. The voice whispered like the rustling of leaves.

            Aran hesitated a moment. The vaguely feminine voice sounded like the whole forest was emphasizing it.

            Are you the dryad? He asked carefully.

            Yes. You wish to locate and recover the people of Fyrna, correct? This dryad didn’t beat around the bush, it seemed.

            Yes. I don’t have much to go on, and I thought you might be able to aid me. I also thought -- 

                That I would also want my city back? Yes I do. Cities rise and fall naturally, but not this quickly. Disregarding being conquered by other humans..... but then, Aran thought to himself, the city isn’t truly destroyed....

            So, you will help?

            Yes. I can already tell you that whatever caused this is in no wise natural. So, no, I can’t just show you where it is.

            So anything that is completely unnatural is invisible to you?

Yes. Invisible to me and all forms of druidry. I do know where the people are. I will lead you to one of the places.

Great. Thank you.

Thank YOU. Call an animal and I will have it lead you there. There is a magefox nearby. She would be ideal, as she would be able to follow mundane and magical scents. Just like humans, some animals were born gifted with magic. They were rare, to say the least.

Aran immersed himself back into the forest. He located the vixen after a bit of searching.

She’s a bit impudent, if that helps. I don’t know anything about how druids call animals.

But you can take control of one if control has already been established?

Yes. You have many more questions. Ask them on the way there.

Gladly.

Aran fished a scrap of jerky out of his pocket and set it on the ground before him. Then he demanded that the vixen come to him at once. The fox was less awed or cowed by the force of his command; instead, she was intrigued. Curiosity rather than force of will brought her to him. She trotted through the trees in front of him, right up to him. Ignoring the jerky entirely, she sniffed his leg and hand, then looked up into his eyes. He felt a question probing at his mind. Aran whispered an incantation under his breath and followed the psionic probe back to its source. The vixen resisted, and something of a psionic wrestling match ensued. This usually didn’t happen, but he supposed it was to be expected with a magical animal. The struggle was going in his favor, but he didn’t feel like waiting. Aran picked up the jerky at his feet and fed it to the vixen, distracting her. Free food was a nearly foolproof way to distract an animal, especially a scavenger. He used the opening and established his dominance. The vixen grudgingly backed down.

Okay, your show now. Aran felt the dryad taking control. The vixen immediately seemed more at ease. She sniffed the pocket Aran had produced the jerky from.

She’s going to get SOMETHING out of this. Aran smiled and produced another handful of jerky. He usually carried a good supply with him, for this purpose and because he liked chewing it while traveling. It kept him from getting as thirsty while walking those endless miles. The vixen wolfed it down with gusto. After a bit of chewing, she stood up and trotted off into the woods.

Whoa, whoa, bring her back. I have to get my equipment back on. Will you still be able to talk to me with the armor on?

The dryad’s tone was amused.

Yes, Aran. Your metal armor is no impediment to druidry. It’s a common misconception. It’s just as natural as a boar’s sap-hardened fur.

Hm. That’s useful. Aran stood up and retrieved his pack and armor. He spent a few minutes donning his armor, then buckled his sword belt back on.

Funny that you have a sword belt but no sword.

            Aran paused.

            I didn’t think I’d need it.

            Then why did you bring the belt?

            I need something to hold my pants up, don’t I?

            The dryad gave what Aran supposed was a chuckle. Aran looked up to see the fox looking up at him impatiently.

            Alright, I'm ready. Lead on. The fox took off into the woods. Aran followed at a jog.

            Next question: You said that druidry can’t detect anything completely unnatural. Why can’t I sense humans with it?

            Humans have adapted to have an innate resistance to druidry. It’s partly why you ever became more than smart monkeys. It can be broken through, but it would take a very powerful druid. If it were broken through, the druid could establish control, just like with an animal.

            Same for elves?

            Same for any sentient being. Elves, dwarves, halflings; orcs and goblins to a lesser extent. Even kobolds have a little innate resistance, enough to evade detection. Dragons don’t, but they don’t really need it. Dragons are sentient?

            Hm. How does one normally summon a dryad? You kind of just appeared out of nowhere.

            There is no established way. I could sense that you wished to speak to me as soon as the idea occurred to you. I simply waited for you to call.

            Do you have a name?

            No. The dryad did not elaborate.

            How did you know my name?

            I know everything’s name. Again, no elaboration.

            How much territory does each dryad.... oversee?

            There is no set area, nor are there distinct borders. But as a rule of thumb, when the forest turns into a plain, or a swamp, you have entered a different dryad’s domain. But not always. You should know by now, nothing is certain in druidry.

            Aran jogged in silence a while before deciding to ask his next question.

            You indicated that dragons are sentient. I was not aware of this. I do not doubt you, but why is this not common knowledge?

            Dragons don’t strike humans as sentient, so they assume they aren’t. Sometimes wizards discover that they are, but no one believes them. They won’t believe you either. The few willing to hear you out will want to know why you believe so, and you can’t exactly tell them that a dryad you summoned with your druidic powers told you, can you? Druidic society was an extremely secretive one. Sorry. Your society isn’t very receptive to strange ideas.

            Yes. I know. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

            There’s also the confusion about the difference between a dragon and a wyvern. They are the same but for intelligence.

                So it’s possible some or all of the dragons I’ve killed were actually wyverns?

            Most likely they all were. Dragons are not so much hostile as sociopathic and fickle. Still a great accomplishment for a human.

            He followed in silence a minute more.

            We’re nearly there. There’s another clearing with people sitting around a large oak tree in the center. They’re terrified, so look non-threatening. There is both a wizard and a necromancer in this group. That’s why I chose it.

            Got it. No mention of guards? The fact that the dryad couldn’t sense his sword still bothered him. He didn’t know how it would react if he fought with it anyway, and besides, he didn’t want to kill the guards. He saw the clearing and one of the guards, facing inwards. Aran dropped into a crouch and readied another spell. He set himself in the mindset of a hunting cat, stalking its prey with circumspect care and grace. Aran vanished from sight, and his footsteps became inaudible to all but the most perceptive of ears. I love being a druid.

            What are you doing? the dryad asked in mild confusion.

            Guards. I think they’ve been mentally dominated by whatever unnatural force has wrought this. We were attacked before by mentally dominated soldiers. Knocking them unconscious seems to break the spell.

            What has prevented your convoy from being dominated?

            That stopped Aran dead in his tracks. What HAD prevented whatever it was from simply dominating them too? He’d gotten a very good look at Hugh’s cargo while he was helping load it. There was nothing magical within. He was fairly certain the mercs had nothing magical on them. They hadn’t even had any street-vendor ‘protective amulets’. The only person in the convoy with any magical talents or items of any sort was himself. Obviously, anything that could empty a town overnight was beyond his personal talents, plus he hadn’t made any effort to prevent himself from being dominated. None of his few magic items had enchantments like that. Except perhaps..... Aran glanced down at his sword hilt. He still didn’t know the full range of powers hidden inside it. That had to be it.

            “Oh s**t.” He said out loud.

            What?

            Long story. Aran stood up, drew his sword, and ran at the guard. The guard turned on him without the least indication of surprise. Aran now wished he had brought his helm and shield. He had thought that that much metal would completely prevent him from working druidic magic. At least he had most of his armor. The guard already had his sword out. He lunged forward with his broadsword in a heavy downward sweep. Obviously the guard did not expect Aran to parry when his sword was so much thinner. Aran put all his strength into the parry, attempting to jar the sword out of his opponent’s hands. As it always had, Aran’s sword held without even bending. The guard was unprepared for this sudden stop, and he dropped the sword and stumbled. Aran hopped back to avoid the falling blade, then coshed the guard on the back of the head with his bracer. The guard did not stand up. Aran looked up to see the other five guards rushing at him in formation, civilians scrambling to get out of the way. Aran did not like his chances against five at once without his shield. He prayed the wizard had somehow resisted domination. His prayer was answered with a single arcane word, and the guards collapsed to the ground, stunned. A calm, commanding voice ordered,

            “Subdue them.” The civilians did not need to be prompted. Aran spotted a man weaving towards him through the throng.

            The wizard. The dryad introduced him.

            “Aran.” Aran introduced himself. He extended his right hand as his sword was still in his left. The wizard took it and shook it.

            “Beduon. Proper introductions later. Let’s get these people back to town.” Aran nodded. Beduon was pale and thin, with a mop of blonde hair and a hint of a beard, hard eyes and a mouth that looked like a grim line was its natural shape.

            Aran climbed up on a stump nearby and yelled,

            “All right, everyone QUIET!” the crowd settled and all eyes turned to him. Several strong men were pinning the guards to the ground. Aran pointed to them. “Knock out the guards and get someone to help you carry them.” The men nodded. Aran pointed over to where the first guard lay unconscious. “Some people pick him up and carry him. Someone else grab his sword.” People moved to obey. “Help anyone who won’t be able to keep up. We’ll be setting a pretty fast pace. More of them should be on the way. Everyone ready?” A murmur of assent. “All right, let’s MOVE!” Aran hopped down and dashed to the edge of the clearing. He looked back and called “This way!” he heard the people following him. He set off into the woods towards Fyrna. A minute later, Beduon jogged up beside him.

            “Is that a magefox?” Aran glanced down. The vixen was running alongside him. He had forgotten about her entirely.

            “Oh. Yes.”

            “Your pet?”

            “Later. Save your breath.” Aran was NOT ready to make up a cover story for this.

            I would allow you to keep her as a familiar if it would help get my city back.

            I’ll keep it in mind. How are we supposed to defend this many people, if more soldiers appear?

            I know not, Aran. I am a dryad, not a battle strategist. But you have yourself, a wizard, and a magefox at your command, and all of you look less threatening than you truly are. Use that to your advantage. But keep in mind I won’t be able to give you any warning.

            Aran had a thought. Perhaps instead of looking for the guards, the dryad could look for places where most of the wildlife had fled. Look for what’s not there rather than what is there. He presented this idea to the dryad.

            Interesting. That should work, but note that your group has driven away the wildlife in YOUR area. I would only be able to tell you where they are up to a certain point, when they are close to you. Ask Beduon if he can sense them.

            “Beduon.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Can you sense the people who have been dominated? A bit of warning before an attack would be very helpful.”

            “Possibly. I was too distracted keeping the illithids from dominating ME to see if I could detect the guards. I will keep my sense open.”

            “Illithids?”

            “Later. Run.”

            Half a minute later they were coming up on a rise when the dryad contacted him.

            A group of men are coming behind you. They’re a half mile off now, but they’re gaining ground quickly.

            Thanks. Alas, we must go slowly to keep together.

            Two minutes later they were on the rise. Beduon looked back and pointed,

            “Archers.” Damn, that’s too fast for normal humans.

            “How many? In range?”

            “Um... fifteen. They will be soon.”

            “Damn.” Aran peeled off to the side and drew his sword. He moved to the side until the civilians didn’t block his view. The archers were about a hundred yards off now. They wouldn’t need to get close to hit something. Don’t fail me now He thought to his sword. He pointed it upwards and started swinging in a circle above his head and the wind moved to obey his command. A whirlwind formed around him, at first just a small swirl of leaves in the air. Steadily, it grew stronger, tearing leaves off trees, and gaining strength and speed with every circle Aran made.

            The archers came in range. They nocked arrows, lifted their bows, and fired. Aran finished his last swing with a mighty lunging swing, sending the whirlwind raging towards them. The arrows were caught in it midflight, and the whirlwind continued on inexorably toward the archers. They scattered before it reached them, and the whirlwind blew past them, eventually losing strength and fading. Aran turned and dashed up the rise. He muttered a thanks to his sword and noted that the civilians had crested the rise. They were out of range now, but the archers had just been delayed. The last of the civilians crossed to the other side of the rise.

            They were still ten minutes from Fyrna at this pace. He would need to find a permanent solution to the archers. He crested the ridge and saw that Beduon had waited for him. Aran called to him.

            “We’re laying an ambush. We’re trying to knock them out if we can, but if we have to, kill them.”

            Beduon nodded.

            “I’ll stun them, and you knock them out. I can probably stun six at a time, so you’ll have to keep them occupied while I cast the next spell.” Aran nodded. Beduon gestured and intoned something under his breath, and vanished. Aran cast his spell again and melted into the trees. The magefox, however, stood just behind the ridge, growling.

            What is she doing?

            They waited about thirty seconds, and then the archers appeared over the ridge. Aran burst out of the shadows and Beduon reappeared behind the archers, but before either of them could do anything, the fox barked, and a blast of magic slammed into the archers, knocking them off their feet. Aran dashed over to them. They had not yet moved. He checked the first one. He was unconscious. The second was as well. Aran stood up and sheathed his sword.

            “Well, that simplifies things.”

            Beduon merely nodded. He ran after the civilians. Aran began to follow, but hesitated when he saw that the vixen had collapsed and was panting on the ground. Evidently the spell had exhausted her. After a split second of debate, Aran picked her up and followed Beduon.

            I think I’ll take you up on the offer, at least until this fiasco is over.

            I thought that might convince you.

            Aran caught up with the rest of the group a minute later. The rest of their flight was less eventful. But when they reached the town gates, they were met by a different scene. Geoffrey and the two healthy mercs remaining were leading Hugh and his family out of the town. They had been dominated just recently, or they would have been well away by now. When they sighted Aran’s group, they drew their weapons and charged, while Hugh and his family dashed off in the other direction. Beduon raised his arm and snapped his fingers, and they dropped to the ground. Whatever was controlling Hugh and family evidently gave up, as they stopped suddenly and started clutching their heads in pain. Hugh shook it off and ran back towards Aran.

            “Aran! Where’d all these people come from?!”

            Aran called back,

            “I found them!”

            “Just out there in the woods?”

            “Yeah. Just kinda stumbled upon them. Did Geoffrey pass on what we learned from the archer? You seem somewhat less confused than you ought to be.”

            “Yes, he did. Why are you carrying that fox?” Think fast.    

            “She’s a magefox. Saved our asses bringing these people back. Perhaps the dryad favors us. I might just keep her.”

            “Who is this?” asked Beduon.

            “I'm Hugh, the head of the convoy that constituted the entire population of Fyrna till you showed up.”

            “I’m Beduon, runaway journeyman wizard.”

            “Runaway?” Hugh asked with interest.

            “Journeyman?” Aran asked with incredulity.

            “Later.”

            Aran left them to their talk and turned to the crowd of people, who were now milling about aimlessly.

            “Is anyone here a necromancer?” he called out.

            One man stepped forward. His clothing bore the symbol of Jaldo the Silent. A temple healer. Aran motioned for him to follow and started towards town. Hugh and Beduon fell in next to him.

            “Once Geoffrey wakes up, we need to meet and make a plan for this. I learned a lot on this expedition, and I think we might just be able to save this town and get on with life.”

 

            Dusk was falling in Broden, and every passing moment wore on Miara’s nerves. Marcus had reverted to human form soon after the tollman had left. Evidently, all that was required was that he feel threatened. He figured that he could devise a mental trick to control it, but for now, it would suffice. It would have to.

            Miara sighed. Part of her wanted the gangsters to hurry up and get here already, and the slightly more sensible part wanted them to not show up at all. No part of her regretted her decision, though.

            Anna came up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. Their gazes fell on Marcus, leaning on the wall just inside the door. Anna held a change of clothes for Marcus. ‘If he shifts with his clothes on, they’ll be ripped pretty much beyond repair. I thought he’d rather change into his own clothing rather than tax your hospitality even more.’

            Miara held a palm-sized glass vial in her hand. In it was a liquid that, in theory, should combust spectacularly on contact with air. It was the experiment she had been working on since Aran had brought her that bumper crop of fireberries. Getting it into a vial without it blowing up in her face had been tricky, but she had added an inhibitor that rendered it inert before adding the fireberry juice and pouring the results into a vial. She had then depressurized it and magically siphoned the inhibitor. The result was a vial full of hopefully explosive goodness. She had three of them in front of her on the counter in addition to the one in her hand.

            The sun sank a little further. As far as sunsets went, she much preferred the one she had watched with Aran, despite the... excitement beforehand. Miara sighed again. Damn, but having Aran around would be really helpful right now.

Author's Note

Please tell me how that joke went over.

Reviews

[Lindsey]

This chapter is awesome. It has the perfect amount of eventful battle and story mixed together. I like how it switches from one persons story to the others so often. Great job :)