Jalia in the North (Jalia - World of Jalon), page 4
His men stood watching and waited for their sergeant to take care of the madman.
Trant attempted to hit Daniel on the head with the pommel of his sword, but Daniel twisted aside at the last moment. He felt a hand at his waist and then Daniel’s dagger was back in Daniel’s hands.
Daniel backed towards the large crate with his dagger raised defensively. Trant moved forward to skewer him, but Jalia burst passed Daniel to knock Trant’s sword from his hand. A second later he was dead.
Daniel whispered to his dagger. It left his hand and rose into the air spinning ever faster, humming as its speed rose. Its bright blade glinted in the last rays of the evening sun. It flew into the massed ranks of guards and blood splattered wherever it passed. Men attempted to flee, but there was no escape. The blade followed them as they pushed into each other, desperately trying to get away from this uncanny spinning death.
Down the dock the dagger travelled, killing all who stood or ran before it. The screaming from the City Guard reached a crescendo to die down as only a few men still lived. Then there was silence, absolute deafening silence broken only by the hum of the blade as it hovered above the bodies.
The dagger flew high into the sky and then headed across the water to Daniel’s hand. It stopped spinning as it flew. High in the air, it lost all power and dropped towards the jetty. Daniel stepped forward to catch it before it hit the dock.
Jalia looked across the acres of bodies.
“I don’t ever want to hear you accuse me of being ruthless again,” she said and stepped closer to hold his hand. She knew Daniel hated killing and to do it on such a scale must have appalled him even as he acknowledged the necessity.
“He’s got your other knife.” Daniel said noticing it sticking out of Trant’s boot.
Daniel and Jalia trod carefully over the bodies and around the pools of blood as they left the dock. They chose a wide avenue to follow; sure it would lead them to the city gates. By the time they got there they were being followed by a large crowd of women and girls with a small number of old men among them.
When they reached the gate, Daniel turned to the crowd, which took a quick step back.
“Does anybody know how to open the gate?”
Sandor Jant stepped forward.
“How will we retain our skills without boys to apprentice?” he asked and Daniel stared at him bemused. Why did this old man think he had answers to such questions?
“Apprentice the girl’s, you old idiot,” Jalia said contemptuously.
“But girls cannot learn a trade,” Sandor spluttered and there were male grunts of agreement from within the crowd.
“Then the city of Ranwin will lose its skills forever, it’s your choice,” Daniel shouted, exasperated with these people. Who did they think he was anyway, their king?
Another old man came forward and operated the mechanism to open the gate. A girl staggered out of a door with their clothes in her hands.
“Well,” said Jalia as they once again approached the Ranwin Bridge. “I can’t wait to see what the nightlife of Baltar is like after such a boring day.”
Daniel attempted to slap her on the bottom, but she pranced out of his way, laughing delightedly.
No Longer at Bay
Jalia left Daniel on the far side of Ranwin Bridge and made her way to Baltar. Daniel returned to Drall Pador’s village to recover his donkeys, their goods and Jalia’s horse.
Drall welcomed him into his home with open arms and his wife, a plump woman called Sansay who never stopped smiling, rushed to heat up a meal. Her face fell when Daniel told her Jalia would not be joining them, but would meet him at dawn back at the bridge.
Drall looked uncomfortable and asked Daniel about Ranwin.
“You are the first to return from Ranwin in living memory,” he said, pouring Daniel a cup of tea.
“I expect trade will return to Ranwin soon and the city is going to attract a lot of young men over the coming years,” Daniel said between mouthfuls of stew. He had noticed Drall’s discomfort, but was sure the man would tell him what was bothering him eventually.
Drall frowned.
“I don’t understand. Why would the city of Ranwin want young men?”
“It’s not a matter of what they want, but it is what they need. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Drall let the conversation lapse. Daniel ate his stew and drank his tea while Drall twiddled his thumbs and seemed unable to sit still.
“I gave away half of your trade goods,” he blurted as Daniel mopped the last of the stew with crusty bread warm from the oven. Daniel chewed the bread slowly and swallowed. Then he picked up his cup and drank the last of the tea.
“Half of my goods?”
“And most of your money. I will pay you back, though I don’t know when. You have to understand, families came to me pleading for charity. There were young children that would have starved, Daniel. I know I did wrong, but I was certain you would never return.” Drall sounded close to tears.
“You didn’t give away Jalia’s horse or saddle did you?” Daniel asked, “She would find it difficult to forgive you that.”
“No, your donkeys, her horse and your packs are safe,” Drall was crying as Sansay entered the room. She went over to comfort him.
“You told me Daniel gave you permission, my husband. What have you done?”
“Nothing.” Daniel rose from the table. “Thank you for looking after the animals, I will collect them and be on my way.” Daniel went to the stable and started getting the animals ready to travel.
Drall arrived a few minutes after Daniel. He had the purse with what was left of Daniel and Jalia’s money in his hand. “They would have starved, Daniel.”
Daniel took the purse from Drall’s outstretched hand and fastened it to his belt, then continued to get the animals ready without saying a word. Sansay arrived at the door with what must have been all the food in the house, packed and ready for travel. She handed it to Daniel before hugging him and returning to the house.
“You look older, Daniel. As if several years has passed since I last saw you. I am sorry, but I did what I thought was right,” Drall said as he sat on a bale of hay. Daniel stopped tightening the girth on Jalia’s horse and turned to him.
“Today I killed three hundred men. They were not good people, but I expect that not all of them deserved to die. I did not expect you to keep your word to the letter, but men have been killed for taking less than you have stolen from us.” Daniel turned back to his animals.
Drall looked aghast. Three hundred dead was inconceivable, battles had been fought where fewer people had died. He didn’t doubt Daniel’s word for a moment. He had sensed something different about Daniel from the moment they met, but no one ever returned from Ranwin and families would have starved.
“Kill me then. I stole from you and I deserve to die.” Drall stood his arms outstretched presenting his body to Daniel. Daniel’s dagger flew from his belt and spun, hovering inches from Drall’s throat. Drall blanched as the blade moved nearer. He had never seen magic before, let alone been its intended target. Then the dagger shot back to its sheath at Daniel’s belt.
Daniel spoke softly, not looking at Drall. “I died for a time today. There has been more than enough killing. A mad king is dead along with his soldiers and let that be an end to it.” Daniel took the reins to Jalia’s grey and those of Ferd. “You should not offer your life up so freely, Drall. There is no honor in death.”
Daniel reached the bridge a few hours before dawn and found a place to doze. He was woken by Jalia’s shouting.
“Daniel! Come and see what I’ve brought you.” Daniel dragged his eyelids open and gazed up to see an elegant black horse, saddled and ready to ride. He inspected the animal while Jalia beamed with delight.
The horse was magnificent, its breeding shouting out to him even as it pranced as he held its head. “You won him?”
“Naturally, and I’ve brought you a sword to go with it.” Jalia threw him a sword in its scabbard. Daniel drew the blade from its scabbard and admired its sharpness and balance.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I should. I stopped wearing a sword because when men saw a small round-faced boy with one, they insisted on proving how superior their skills. I’ve found those men didn’t much like it when I beat them.”
“You are not a round faced boy anymore, Daniel. You’ve aged; more since yesterday. Besides which, I’m not looking around to find you a sword every time we get into trouble.”
“Are we in trouble because of the horse and the sword?” Daniel asked as a sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach.
“No, stop worrying, everything is sweet. I left them with enough of their money not to get that angry.”
“Speaking of money, Drall gave half of ours away. Not to mention all the trade goods.” Daniel waited for the inevitable outburst of anger from Jalia.
“But he left my saddle alone?” Jalia asked, apparently unbothered by the news.
“Yes. But what’s that got to do with it?” Jalia went over to her horse and after a few seconds staying hidden from Daniel’s view, turned around revealing a leather pouch, which she threw at Daniel.
“Unlike you, Daniel my dear innocent, I take precautions when it comes to dealing with village elders.”
The pouch was filled with gold coins, rings and trinkets that Daniel didn’t know they had. He threw the pouch back at her and smiled.
“Real traders ride donkeys, camels or walk. It will raise eyebrows if I ride a horse.”
“Let the eyebrows rise. They do whenever people see me.”
“I think that’s more to do with the short skirt and the shape of your legs,” Daniel said as he mounted his horse, “I shall call him Jet. What do you think?”
“I’ve avoided naming mine because I don’t usually keep them that long. But if your horse is to be Jet, mine will be Swift.” Jalia mounted her horse and shouted “Race you over the bridge” as she rode away.
Daniel looked at his donkeys. Jalia knew he would never leave them to race her. He sighed and leaned low on his saddle to grab Ferd’s rope before leading the train to the bridge. He had to admit that riding a horse was much better than walking. He just hoped he wasn’t going to go soft.
They took the magician’s road towards Telmar, but didn’t push the animals hard. The road was made of stone blocks that were hard on unshod hooves. Jalia, as usual, was full of life despite having barely slept in two day. Daniel was convinced that she had refreshed herself sleeping in the dungeon. She was that kind of person.
“Daniel, is your brother as good a swordsman as you?” Jalia asked.
“No. Father trained him to be competent in a fight, but he was obsessed with training me.”
“Why?”
“He said that my inheritance meant I was doomed to either greatness or an early death. But I didn’t have an inheritance and when I asked him about it he laughed. He once said that he wished I was completely his son. My mother was there at the time, her face turned red and she fled the room. I never understood that either.”
Jalia formed her own interpretation of those events, but kept her mouth from running off unchecked as it usually did. “If you are going to be the High King then I want to be a goddess.”
“You’re already a goddess to me. What do you call the Goddess of Trouble?”
Daniel was kept busy for a few minutes as he discovered that offending the Goddess of Trouble when she was carrying a sword was not entirely wise.
It was late that evening as they were looking for somewhere to camp that they spotted trouble ahead on the road. Someone had made camp near to a small brook and a cluster of trees. It must have been a popular place to stop as the ground was rutted with cart tracks. A campfire burned between their covered wagon and the brook.
However, the clash of metal on metal was a sign something untoward was going on. The shrieking of a woman was another, not insignificant, clue.
The camp was about a third of a mile away. Jalia pulled Swift off the road onto softer ground before she galloped towards it. She whooped and shrieked to let the raiders know she was coming. With luck they would run away.
Daniel dropped the rope to his donkeys and told Ferd to stay where he was before guiding Jet off the road and chased after Jalia. Ferd snorted in disgust and led his train towards a particularly succulent patch of glass.
As Jalia got closer to the camp she saw a man and a woman defending the wagon against three attackers. As she watched the man was struck and fell to the ground. Her continuing yells had some effect, as the three attackers looked and saw her approaching. Jalia wasn’t aware of it, but they could see Daniel catching up behind her.
That made the odds far too close to even and the men backed away. The woman saw her man lying on the ground and ran at the three men screaming defiance. One of the men cut her down. The attackers ran into the trees, disappearing from sight almost immediately in the gathering gloom.
Jalia dismounted and ran to the woman. She was still alive, but only just. As Jalia lifted her, the woman gasped out her final words.
“Promise me, Protect my babies,” Her hand gripped Jalia’s arm with grim determination.
“Yes, of course. I promise,” Jalia said, and the woman’s face relaxed as she died.
Jalia turned around to see Daniel examining the man. He shook his head as she looked at him.
A baby started to cry in the wagon. Its cries got louder and louder as Jalia and Daniel stood looking at each other.
“I said I’d look after it,” Jalia said, looking strangely lost. Daniel was no help at all and shrugged.
They clambered onto the wagon and Jalia lifted a large sheet covering the rear. A baby stared back at her, wrapped in swaddling and obviously needing some kind of attention.
“Well do something…” Jalia prompted as Daniel made no move to help.
“I think this requires a woman’s touch,” Daniel said, staying well clear of the screaming infant. As they stood looking, another part of the sheet moved. Jalia drew her sword and struck. Her blow was intercepted by the flat of Daniel’s blade.
“Perhaps you should look to see what it is before you kill it,” Daniel suggested, lifting the sheet to reveal two small girls. They looked terrified. The elder of the two decided to risk speaking.
“Serin needs changing. Don’t you know how to do it?”
“I’ll leave you girls to get on with it,” Daniel said, leaving a speechless Jalia to her own devices. Daniel mounted his horse and went to retrieve his donkeys. He would need the spade he kept in Ferd’s pack, as he had some burying to do.
Coyote
Jalia and Daniel decided to make camp at the brook. Daniel found a sheltered spot about a quarter of a mile from the camp where he dug a hole big enough to hold the bodies of the dead couple and deep enough so that scavenging animals would not be able to dig them up and feast on their flesh. Jalia, with the help of the two little girls whose names turned out to be Yeta and Maya, changed and fed their baby sister.
It was late by the time Daniel finished the hole. He used Ferd to carry the bodies to the grave. Jalia brought the children along behind him and the two children kissed their parents goodbye before Daniel tumbled them into the hole.
Yeta was five summers old and Maya was six. They cried as Daniel covered their parents with dark red earth, but their tears dried to be replaced by furtive looks as Daniel and Jalia led them back to the camp.
“Aren’t you scared the men will come back and attack us,” Maya asked as Daniel collected wood from the nearby stand of trees to make a fire.
“Jalia would welcome it. She feels cheated that they got away.”
Daniel laughed after he spoke. He would welcome a period without killing, but Jalia attracted trouble as honey attracts bears and he doubted it would be long before they fought again.
“We were going to Telmar. Daddy’s a carpenter and he said we would be rich.”
“He was going to dig for gold?” Daniel asked.
“He said only fools dig for gold, but fools who have found gold will need a carpenter to build their houses and repair their wagons,” Maya said solemnly and her sister Yeta, who stood beside her with her fingers in her mouth nodded vigorously.
“It seems to me that your Daddy was a sensible man,” Daniel said as he laid the brushwood out to start the fire.
“He got himself and mummy killed,” Maya said with tears in her eyes and walked off towards Jalia with her younger sister in tow.
“If her parents had been as bright as that one, they’d still be with us,” Daniel said quietly as he got out his tinderbox to start a fire.
Jalia stared apprehensively at the baby. Serin was its name, according to the girls, and she wondered what she was going to do with it. It was fine while it was laying and sleeping in the beautifully carved wooden crib, but she had no idea how to feed it, clean it or care for it. Worse, she had absolutely no desire to do anything for it.
Why had she made that stupid promise to the dying woman? She usually had more sense. Having to deal with the girls was bad enough, but you could always find a family that needed another pair of hand to till the fields or bring in the harvest. Babies, on the other hand, were nothing but trouble and gave no return on your efforts for years. Finding a home for the baby was going to be a nightmare.
Jalia saw Daniel had started a fire. The little girls were trying to sneak up on her and they were trying so hard that Jalia decided to pretend to jump and act startled as they put their hands on her back.
“Will you tell us a story?” Maya asked as Jalia spun around, “Mummy always told us a story after supper.”
“Yes, but I would bet it was mummy who made the supper, while I have a young man to do that for me.” Jalia smiled at the two children. She liked bright girls because they reminded her of herself, and Maya was certainly precocious.
