Chapter 4

A continuation of Dion's Tale, and I am actually posting a longer work on friday as I had planned. Next Friday will be a continuation of Dusdane's tale but will focus mostly on Freah.

The walk was uneventful, mainly it allowed Dion to think. Always thoughtful, that was the way of the Wraith. No action without consequence, every person was a potential domino in a cascade that could save or end nations. Faecon may be sitting at a focal point. His possibly going rogue could very easily upset balance. His knowledge of operations spanning the many worlds was enough to make Dion sweat a little. Years of work, years of subtly advising and influencing the various governments around the Many Worlds, could all potentially be ruined by knowledge that various key people in those governments were in fact Wraiths. Backlash against Elayne would be swift and brutal, but this was the gamble they had to play. On one hand they did not have much of an army to stop another world’s armies, they learned that from the Garrenians. On the other the subtle games they played had the potential to utterly destroy Elayne, but what choice did they have. Sprinting across the knife’s edge, careful not to fall, that was the way he knew, every action with consequence.

It took him many days to finally reach the city. He came to a large gate made of thick oak, it was slightly ajar. Two men in mail armor lay on the ground, fresh blood spreading across the ground. Dion stopped in his tracks and looked over the landscape long and hard, and then he noticed a horse and cart riding fast from a fair distance towards the gate. Foolish way to sneak something in, thought Dion. Then he saw them, three Judges, they stepped out from the gate. All three stood in the blackish crystal armor that trademarked the Judges. Armor hard as diamond that few weapons could break, yet allowing a maneuverability impossible for armor that thick, a gift from the Old Ones. One was clearly older than the other two with scars running down his face, two across his right cheek one over his left eye. The young ones were hardly more than boys, fresh out of the training, Dion guessed.

It was clear they had seen Dion, so he made no attempt to hide. Where was there to hide?

“Greetings,” Dion said and let out a smile. The Judges did not return his pleasantry. The young ones looked at each other, then to the older one.

The Elder Judge kept his eyes set on Dion. “He has seen us, he must die,” he said to the younger ones. The younger judges drew swords out of side sheaths and began advancing on Dion.

Dion held up with hands, palm open towards the two. “I have seen nothing, a fever took my eyes when I was younger.” He said with a calm smile.

The Elder Judge said nothing, the two young ones continued advancing. Dion continued, “I have no allegiance to Fortyne, you have nothing to worry about me. I can be blind for you if you like and this way you don’t have to dispose of a third body.”

“So you are a coward as well, the least you could do is meet your end honorably.”

Damn Judges, so hard set in their honor that they wouldn’t even let Dion go when even when it was better for them.

“I am just efficient, didn’t want to cause you more trouble. I find bloodshed distasteful and messy and often time consuming. You ever try strangling a man to death?” Dion said the smile fading from his face and his hands lowering.

The Elder Judge raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take it you haven’t. Well let me explain, even when you stop the bloodflow to the head and a man’s vision goes black he still has several moments of panicked thrashing that he can make. Often a man on the edge of death is at his strongest.” Dion said and the two young Judges slowed in their advance. Good, he thought, at least the young ones can scare. “This of course is a noble thing but it makes it so much less efficient than well placed knife. Though even butchering a man with many stabs still requires that he bleed slowly out.”

The two young ones nearly stopped their advance, Dion noticed one’s hand was shaking. The Elder growled at the two. “Stop his incessant yammering!”

Dion looked at the two boys, “but you know all about that right? You’ve killed men, right?”

One sneered at Dion, “Of course!”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Said Dion smiling again.

The first of the two charged, a little too eager to prove himself. His weight all forward so when he swung his blade downward he found nothing to hit. Dion shifted his weight to the side crouching low to the ground and extending the other leg. The boy stumbled over the outstretched leg and landed face first. Dion pulled the outstretched leg in, standing up. He then shifted his weight the other foot spinning around. He raised his free foot into the air and it came down in an arc onto the neck of the Young Judge. Dion hit the back neck plate of the armor but the force was enough to dig the plate into spine. He brought the foot back up and landed a series of brutal stomps onto the boy. The second boy started to step back. The Elder Judge drew his sword, whether to kill Dion or keep the other boy from running, Dion didn’t know but it cause the first boy to stop his retreat.

Dion stepped forward letting one hand fall to his side and a knife fall into it. He hurled the knife into the second young judge who didn’t see it coming. He fell to the ground the knife protruding out of his exposed head.

Dion moved at the Elder Judge he raised his blade in front of him so that if Dion charged he would impale himself. Dion charged pulling two new knives free from their sheaths but at the last moment moved to the side, but the Elder had changed his stance and the blade now stood between Dion and the Elder again. Dion stepped back and feinted from a different direction and found the point of the blade warding him off. The Elder’s form was exact and precise, everything Dion had been told to expect from a well-trained Judge.

Dion stepped back. “I take you didn’t train these two.”

The Elder Judge took one step forward and swung horizontally at Dion. Dion hopped back absorbing a small amount of the attack with his knives. Before he could counter the Elder’s blade was between them again and the Elder was circling.

“Because if you trained them you should be a little ashamed. I expected more from Judges.” Dion said ducking to the side from another swing. He stabbed low but the Elder changed the grip on his sword and swung it down deflecting the knife. The knife was knocked from Dion’s hand. Dion moved with the blow and rolled away. The agile Wraith came up on his feet and spun to deflect a strike with his offhand knife. He took his free hand to grab the Elder’s wrist and try to swing the blade to the ground.

Dion quickly realized the error of this and the muscled Judge shouldered him off sending him on his back into the ground. The blade was coming down on Dion but he rolled to the side and landed a kick into the back of the Judge’s knee. Dion sprang to his feet but the Judge had gained his footing again and was standing blade first at Dion.

Dion paced as he circled the Elder, they looked each other over. A slight smile was creeping over the Elder Judge’s face. Dion’s face had dropped considerably. Dust and dirt covered his face now and his coats was torn in several places. Dion wasn’t liking the odds here. He couldn’t get in this guy’s head. He was calm, reserved, everything was trained to respond reflexively. He was stronger. Thankfully he wasn’t faster, but in the end Dion had to admit he wasn’t faster either. Dion was barely holding his own, this battle would likely be won by who was more determined, and Dion didn’t like the idea of testing his determination against that of a Maeden Judge.

The gate swung open and the cart drew nearer. A man in a long yellow coat stepped through the gate and behind him stood twenty armed men. Ten stood armed with sword and shield, ten with rifles. The Arbitrator ordered the riflemen to fire on the Judge. Crystals on the rifles hummed and a bluish spark sent a small shards of crystal at the Judge. The impacts send the Judge sprawling as the cart drew near. The Arbitrator raised his hand and charged the cart with his foot soldiers. The cart began to turn away. The Judge stood up and more bruised than injured and took off running to the cart. He grabbed onto the back as it began to take off at high speed. Arrows flew out of the back and hit two of the soldiers charging it. Others raised their shields in time. Another volley of crystal flew from the rifles at the cart. The Judge shielded his men with his body. Arrows fired back once again and the infantry fell back. They wouldn’t be able to catch up.

Dion lay down as soon as the riflemen appeared. The Arbitrator approached him.

“You dead?” the man said.

Dion stood up slowly pulling the hood of his coat over most of his face as he stood. “I am all right.”

“The sound of your blithering alerted the guards.” The Arbitrator said with a smirk.

“What were they doing here?”

“Trying to sneak in. We have created a perimeter to help regulate visitation.”

“May I enter?” Dion asked.

The Arbitrator leaned in closer, Dion stepped back. “That depends on your business. It is clear to me you are no friend of Maedus, but they are not our only enemies.”

“I am not your enemy, I am only here to find someone.”

“Faecon is expecting you.”

For once Dion, was speechless.

The Arbitrator smiled, “I am Arbitrator Dylan. Faecon said he expected someone to be checking up on him soon. And only another Wraith would stand toe to toe with an experienced Judge like that.” Dylan raised up his hand and knocked the hood off the stunned Dion. “You aren’t dealing with some brainless peasant, so you can stop the mystery man act.”

Dion collected himself. This made things more complicated. Now he and Faecon were representatives of Elayne, not regular citizens, and it seems Faecon is actively working with the Fortyne Arbitrators. Dion didn’t know if he was a traitor or a superior acting on orders Dion didn’t even know about.

Dylan turned away and walked towards his men giving orders to pick up the wounded. He turned back to Dion. “Come with me,” he began walking to the gate. “And that is not a request.”

Dion smirked over Dusdane's unconcious body, "Isn't he darling when he is helpless."

The fate of thousands hung in the balance, but he could only think of his sister.

Further lies and slander

So yeah apparently tuesday is exempt from the sentence a day thing...yeah. So I forgot as is probably apparent to all of you who check my blog daily, with held breath awaiting my next installment... yeah "all" of you.

I apologize for nothing!

Now here are some sentences.

Driving down the crowded highway, he heard the sound of a single piano and knew he was very alone.

There is a field around the downtown of any major city, where once a car has passed through, the driver turns into an utter jackass.

Chapter 3

This is the next section of Dusdane's Tale. Freah is one of my first attempts at a fully fleshed out female character, so I apologize in advance. Next week I will put up more of Dion, and then maybe after that I will get to Daniel.

He picked his paths through the quiet roads, he passed by a few patrollers but they gave him no trouble, word must have spread fast. He came to a small bar at the corner of two smaller roads, it wasn’t the best bar in town, being off the main roads, but it had other benefits.

The door was shut tight, Dusdane knocked.

“We’re closed,” a female voice replied.

Dusdane knocked again. He heard the voice say to someone inside, “Grak check who it is.”

The door opened and the frame of a giant beastman stood before Dusdane. He had long black hair that hung in thick strands. His eyes were a piercing blue. His body was barely clothed but the hair on him was thick and black, making him more bear-like than man. Dusdane looked up straining his neck.

“We’re closed,” Grak grumbled.

“I am here to see Freah, tell her it’s Dusty,” said Dusdane.

“Miss Freah, is busy.” Grak replied.

“Let him in Grak,” Freah shouted from behind the bar.

Grak snorted at Dusdane, and Dusdane smiled as he slipped by.

The place was mostly hardwood, cozy, and filled with liquors from all over the many worlds. Freah’s place wasn’t the biggest or the wildest, but Dusdane loved this place.

Freah looked over at Dusdane, her blonde hair was pulled back into a pony-tail as she leaned over the bar scrubbing. She usually let it hang lose when the bar was full. Her sleeves were rolled up showing thin but still somewhat muscular arms, hurling heavy bottles around all day tended to help give definition.

“You’re early Dusdane,” she said without even looking up. “You usually wait till after you have hit a couple of bars before you see me, you going to like me without the haze of liquor?” She raised her head from the counter. “Dear Maedus, what happened to you?”

Dusdane must have looked as bad as he felt. “Umm, it is a bit of a story.”

Freah placed both hands on the bar and vaulted over with practiced ease. She grabbed his head and turned his face away from her so she could see the cut. “Clean cut, not that deep, did you get mugged?”

Dusdane twisted free of her grasp, and moved over to the bar. He turned to her and smiled slightly. “No, my caravan had a run in with the Judges.”

Freah chuckled, “I doubt that, they tend to go after bigger fish, not philandering merchant assistants.”

“Didn’t say they were after me,” said Dusdane as he reached for a bottle from behind the bar.

Freah walked over and snatched the bottle out of his hand. “If you are bleeding all over my bar, which I just cleaned, that is last thing you need.” She slid the bottle back under the bar. She leaned against the bar and looked at Dusdane for a moment. “You’re serious,” she said “the Judges hit your caravan.”

Dusdane nodded. Freah went behind the bar and grabbed a rag, she pulled a small bottle of ointment and rubbed a bit on the rag. She came over and dabbed it on his wound.

Dusdane just gazed at her, then jerked his head a bit, the ointment stung.

“Oh, quit fidgeting. Bet the blade hurt worse.”

Dusdane stilled himself and she mopped up the blood and rubbed more of the salve on his cut.

“There’s a bump on the back of your head too.” She commented as she examined his head. “If your head weren’t so thick I’d be worried.” She smiled.

Dusdane just sat there catching his breath trying to get a hold of the moment.

“You’d usually be talking my head off by now,” Freah said the smile slipping away. She sat in front of him and took his hand. She rubbed it lightly. “They scared you.”

“That cut could have well been my life, the only thing that stopped it was an Arbitrator’s blade.” He said and reached up to the cut. Then he looked at her and smiled. “The Judge would have deprived you of my company from here on out.”

She let go of his hand tossing it aside, she knew this trick. “If only I was so lucky,” she replied and moved behind the bar again. “But I guess I should take it as a compliment that on the evening of your near death you came to me rather than Tya.”

Dusdane frowned, “she runs a good bar.”

“Yes she does, but I have heard around that you don’t frequent that place for the drinks. I know mine are the best in the city.” Freah said and she came back around. She stood behind him and began wrapping a bandage around his head.

“If you are jealous then why are you being so kind,”

She tightened the bandage a little too tight, Dusdane grunted. She leaned close to his ear. “Who says I am being kind, maybe I am just making you better so I can have the joy of killing you myself.”

Dusdane could see in his mind the smirk on her face even though his head was being held forward. “Ah, I see so you will smother me in my sleep?”

“Bold words, Dusty.” She finished with the bandage and can back in front of him. “But I am glad you are all right.”

“As am I, how is business?”

“You still haven’t told me why you were attacked,” she said grabbing a bottle and two glasses.

“I don’t actually know,” started Dusdane, then looking at the glasses. “I thought I shouldn’t have those with my injury.”

“Liquor thins the blood makes you bleed more, didn’t want you to bleed all over my bar till I had you bandaged up.” She poured two drinks and slid one to him. “Now have some painkiller.”

Dusdane downed the drink. “Never heard that before, you learn that from those crackpots the Savants?”

“I did,” Freah said, “it comes in handy to know when a fight breaks out here.”

“When are you attending their classes?”

“In the morning,” Freah said then with a dark look she said, “I do have other things to do other than run this bar and wait for your caravan.”

“Indeed, apparently you ask about my activities.” Dusdane said and reached for the bottle. Freah picked it up before he could get and poured him half a glass.

“Need to watch it,” she corked the bottle after pouring herself another drink. “I just listen when your name is mentioned.”

“Tya means nothing…”

“Then why do you go there?”

Dusdane stopped.

Freah rolled her eyes. “Dusdane, I am not a fool. I know you merchants, for all I know you have women back on Elayne. But you should realize I don’t bed every patron who walks in my door, and you should realize that that will quickly stop if you are not careful with me.”

“Very frank,” replied Dusdane smiling.

“You are here very rarely Dusdane, I don’t have time to mince words.” She downed her drink. “So you have a very simple choice.”

“I came here tonight, didn’t I?”

“Yes but only because I know how to take care of you,” she said picking up the bottle and taking it behind the bar. “But that is what older women are for right?” She sneered.

“You are not old…”

“True, but in that case you are running after a child, Tya has barely come of age and you are coming round. You should deal with a woman who knows how to handle you.”

“So I never did tell you what happened.”

“No you didn’t. Judges attacked your caravan and you don’t know why.”

“I can suspect though,” Dusdane said scratching at his temple.

“Don’t mess with it,” said Freah eyeing him and she cleaned the glasses.

“I suspect they were after this Arbitrator Dylan.”

“I know Dylan.”

“One of the Judges yelled about making him pay, he was guarding our caravan.”

“Arbitrators don’t do that…” Grak had walked over. “Grak you can go home I don’t think anyone else will be around.”

Grak eyed Dusdane. Freah glanced at him, “I’ll be fine.”

Grak left wordlessly.

“I thought it was odd too, we met two of them at the gate and Dylan escorted us then the Judges attacked. I tangled with one of them that’s how I got the scratch.”

“Pretty big scratch, how’d he look after the fight?”

“He looked awful…” said Dusdane, “after the rest of the Arbitrators showed up.”

“Ah, so you didn’t save the caravan single handedly.”

“You think I am prone to exaggeration?”

“I’ve heard you tell stories here.”

Freah finally sat down again at the bar.

Dusdane’s face grew more serious. “I’ve never seen Fortyne like this, what is happening?”

Freah shook her head. “We haven’t been told much. There was a raid on the Arbitrator barracks. Several were killed. Since then we’ve been under curfew and all the streets are under double guard.”

“Several?”

“As in more than one.”

“When one is killed that usually calls for an embargo.”

“The group who hit the barracks has been disowned by all the other worlds.”

“And Maeden Judges are attacking Arbitrators in the streets of Fortyne,” said Dusdane. “You should get out of here. Sounds like something bad is going to happen.”

“I am not leaving this place. Even if I did where would I go?” Freah smiled, “would you take me in?”

Dusdane looked away.

“Sorry, meant it as a joke.” Freah frowned. “There I go and scare you.”

“The thought doesn’t scare me Freah… I just… can’t right now.”

“I was right, another woman.”

“It isn’t what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

Dusdane was silent.

Freah stood up and walked towards the back room.

Dusdane got up and followed he grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, I just can’t tell you about that yet. But I am serious. When I got here it felt wrong, it felt like something bad is going to happen. It felt like…”

She stopped and looked at him “What?”

“Like before the Garrenians invaded.”

“No one is going to invade Fortyne. If one world tries to take us they have to fight all the many worlds. We are the hub it is best for all of the worlds that we stay neutral.”

“And the Garrenians were foolish to invade my world but they did anyway. They lost in the end but my parents were still murdered!”

Freah took his hand in both of hers. “You never told me that…,” she held his gaze for a moment before continuing, “still you know I can’t leave my home. I built this place by myself. I won’t give it all up because you have a bad feeling.”

“I know, I am probably overreacting.”

“Anyway, I assume you will be keeping me safe tonight.” She said with a small smile.

“I will try my best,” he said returning the smile.

“Come on, I am sure this will hasten your recovery.” She pulled him into the back and upstairs to her room.

The next morning the pain came. Dusdane found his head throbbing. The sun was already up and the spot next to him in the bed was still warm, but Freah was up and down in the bar already. Dusdane attempted to sit up but the room spun, he lay back down. He reached over and felt the warmth that Freah had left. She has been very intent on keeping him awake last night, saying that if he had a concussion he couldn’t sleep yet. After they were both thoroughly spent she finally let Dusdane sleep.

He looked out of the window guess it was still a few hours before midday. Technically he was on leave for the next two days, but Dusdane felt he should probably find Faecon. They needed to speak to the Arbitrators about what had happened.

Freah walked into the room, she was already dressed and her hair was back again. Unlike how it had hung freely spread across the pillow last night.

“So, you’re still alive.” She said sitting at the foot of the bed. She placed a hand on his leg and rubbed slightly.

“Still alive,” Dusdane said then cleared his throat. “Though you did your best to kill me last night,” he smiled “how dare you take advantage of a wounded man like that.”

“Had to remind you,” Freah replied.

“Remind me of what?”

“Why you don’t want to chase little girls.” Freah said with a wry smile.

“You won’t let that drop?”

“Not for awhile and not till I hear you aren’t going there anymore.” She fell into the bed next to Dusdane.

“You’ve already been out?” Dusdane observed.

“Went to the Savants’ School, wanted to ask them about head wounds,” she said propping her head up on one arm while running her fingers gently along Dusdane’s head.

“Learn anything, because I think if I stand up my head will split.”

“Nothing more than I already knew, you need to rest.” She rolled onto her back. “It will take a few days.”

“I don’t have a couple of days,” said Dusdane.

“You have leave, stay here a few days and then leave with them when the leave is up. Or Maedus knows you could just stay here.”

Dusdane rolled onto his side and looked at her. She lay staring up onto the ceiling. She caught his eye and rolled to face him. “You’d take in a ragamuffin like me?”

Her hand ran along the sheets between them and landed on his hand. “I told you Dusty, I don’t bring anyone back here. I am somewhat fond of you.”

“I can’t stay,” Dusdane said and Freah’s face dropped. “I have to find Faecon today, the Merchant who owned the caravan. I need to speak to him about what happened last night.”

“Why? Why do you have to get caught up in this mess? It was bad luck you got into it in the first place and it was good luck you survived. Why push it?” Freah asked her eyes pleading but her face stern.

“I need to know what is going on, if something is about to happen in Fortyne the Arbitrators will know. And if something bad is going to happen…” Dusdane let himself trail off.

“What?”

Dusdane forcefully closed his mouth. Then he said, “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

She gave Dusdane a mocking smile and said “because I am so helpless. I have lived on my own in Fortyne my whole life, I can handle whatever will happen.”

“The many worlds are a big place, and often they don’t care who gets stepped on.”

“I won’t be like your parents,” Freah tried to assure him.

“You can’t promise that,” Dusdane tried to sit up again. The room spun and his head ached but he ignored the pain and brought his feet to the floor. “I’ll figure this out.”

She put a firm hand on Dusdane’s shoulder and guided him back on the bed. “You are going to rest. I’ll find Faecon.”

She sat over him, “You should know better than to argue me on this.”

“I never learn,” he said with a grin. She moved her head down and kissed him.

“Ow,” Dusdane complained.

“Rest, I’ll find Faecon.” She said and caressed his face and rolled out of the bed.

Freah walked downstairs and saw Grak setting up. The Beastman was arranging tables which had been moved the night before with one hand while arranging bottles with another. Haranatons weren’t known for being the brightest but Grak was fairly capable. He was nice to have around, six feet of muscle was never a bad thing to have around.

“You are inviting trouble here,” was all Grak said not stopping what he was doing.

“I know what I am doing Grak,” said Freah fixing Grak with an icy stare.

Grak ignored it. Harantos was covered in ice, he barely felt the chill of her stare. “He is a marked man.”

Freah stopped on her way out, “Why do you say that?”

“He fought a judge and lived, they don’t take well to that.” Grak said stopping for a moment to look at Freah. “That Faecon,” Grak said his eyes hinting at a bit of fear, “be careful of him.”

“You know something,” Freah said.

“Grak knows, only things he hears. And I hear Faecon is no ordinary man. Be careful Freah.”

Freah let a small smile creep up her lips, “it sounds as though you are becoming fond of me Grak, worrying like this.”

If the hairy beastman was blushing under that layer of fur, Freah couldn’t tell, but she noticed that he wouldn’t look her in the eye as she left.

She stepped out into the midday sun, her first stop would be to speak to Arron, an old friend and drifter. He’d know something.

So I lied, I was wiped on friday so I didn't post up my work nor did I post any sentences over the weekend. I am an absolute failure at following up on my statements. So today I get to play catch up. Below we will have four sentences, and later today I will post the next section of Dusdane's Tale.

Sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, he always had a fish in his pocket.

He looked out of the window and sighed; the reflections from the other buildings were a lie.

The sword is an extension of the soul.

As the air seeped out of his lungs he only heard the words of his instructor saying, "do the stupid technique!"