Mortals In The Dragons Eye

Segment 2

“You had quite a spell there, don’t sit up.” Sarah groaned as strong hands lifted her head and held a bowl to them. “Here, drink.” She let the warm liquid run down her throat and fill a place she had almost forgotten that screamed and raged with joy as it accepted the nourishment. He held her there letting her guide the bowl with her head until the soup was gone and the bowl empty. He lay her head back down and moved away. Sarah opened her eyes. Stars shown overhead, even more numerous than she had seen above the city. Suddenly she felt very small. Beside her she could hear the soft crackling of the fire snapping and popping in the cool night air. Around her the forest was dark and quiet, but she could almost feel it moving about her. Trees dark and mysterious loomed all around, and creatures of the night danced their daily dance. The man beside her was only cold and hard. Sarah frowned. “Where am I?”
“You are in the forest of Tagui. It is only a handful of league from the castle you escaped from.” She heard the sharp rasp of steel as he began working on the finer edges of his blade. “The child is gone. I left him in the care of a good man. He will grow strong and well.” The rasping stopped for a moment, “or they will find him and force him to join their league and he will become twisted and bent.”
“Cheery aren’t you.” Sarah snapped sitting upright far too quickly to escape the wave of nausea which washed over her. “You know if I hadn’t distracted those men you could be dead by now.” She cocked her head to one side, “I think you owe me now.”
“Owe you,” he turned to look at her his face unreadable in the darkness. “Hmmph.” He turned back to his blade. “What need would you have of me even if I did owe you.”
“You may not be able to take on three soldiers alone with your blade, but you have courage.” She pursed her lips together. “I will require an escort, you will do.”
“Escort,” the word seemed to roll off his tongue uncertainly as if such an idea was unheard of. “Where are you going princess lips.” He laughed his sides shaking as he did so.
“To the kingdom of Nagiosa. That is as far as I require.”
There was a dark brooding silence. Sarah waited impatiently.
“The debt will be paid,” he stood up his back to her, “sleep now, we will depart in the morning.” He walked away from the fire slipping into darkness. She lay back down watching the flames dance like dragons on the smoldering wood. “I will take you as far as my path leads. The way is not straight, but I will go to Nagiosa.” Sarah layed her head back down.
“What’s your name?” Sarah asked.
“Gavin, my name is Gavin. Sleep now Sarah we travel hard and fast.” Gavin leaned back against the tree and looked up towards the moon only a small crescent in the sky he watched the shimmering edges as it danced silently for him. He rubbed his hands together their surface rough and pocked with wear and use. As he rubbed they grew warm and the palm on the right glowed a deep firey orange in the night. He thrust it suddenly against the trunk of the tree a thin wisp of smoke trailing away from the edge. He slumped back against the wide broad base and fell into dreams and nightmares.

Morning light brought a dim fog which trailed along the ground and curled itself around their ankles and dissipated along their bodies. It was still dark when Gavin roused her from slumber and her hands and face were cold and wet. She woke without complaint and joined him in the cold breakfast of dried cut meat. She didn’t know what it was, and thought better of asking. Gavin took up the path without a word leaving only the stamped out ashes of the fire and the memory of the place. Their path led quickly to the west hindered by thick forest stands, rushing riverbeds, and villages. Gavin would not enter some villages. They passed three of them in a fortnight, and he knelt to the ground at each worn path running his fingers through the dirt and muttering to himself in a tongue Sarah could not understand. It annoyed Sarah immensely each time he stood shaking his head and moved on. Once she snorted angrily at him and strode down the direction of the path.
“You will not find me again in the wilderness.” Gavin did not look back only kept on walking the same measured pace he had always maintained. Sarah stood fuming looking between him and sight of promised warmth and light with the curling smoke rising above the trees. With a sigh Sarah turned away and followed him back into the wilderness. They never wanted for food, and certainly never for shelter or warmth. On the warmest of days they walked among the cool of the trees with soft sunlight trickling down overhead. On cold days they found refuge on the forgotten paths in the mire where warm air filtered up through the bog and pushed back the bitterness of the autumn. Everywhere Sarah looked summer was fading away and the dying colors of the autumn were descending on the land. Bright reds, golds, and dark crumpled brown leaves drifted soundlessly from their perches and stirred themselves unbidden at their feet.
“You have never seen your own country have you?” Gavin sat hunched against a great maple tree his sword layed across one knee while he sharpened the blade. “I daresay they have fall wherever it is in this land you come from.”
Sarah frowned at him wrinkling her nose in consternation. “Yes, but we haven’t very many trees.” She raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, “A servant girl doesn’t require time to go out and dance among the ever dying trees. She has her duties and is expressly forbidden any beauties.”
Gavin laughed at that his great voice booming across the valley and startling all the birds. “You will do well, you will indeed.”

The sun had failed in the western sky and a wind hard and unyielding as it was playful and boisterous swept across the wooden thatched roofs only to be rebuffed by solid doors and well guarded chimneys. Their feet crunched unnoticed down the deserted street. Very few windows had not been closed against the wind, but those that did flickered merrily with the fires inside. Sarah’s body was weary with the walk. They had not seen signs of war since they had first struck out, but the journey was hard. For a servant girl perhaps it would not have been so trying. Sarah had been a lady of the house of Targoan. This was a new thing to her. She drew the scarf tighter around her face. Gavin pounded on the door to the inn his voice only drowned in the rush of wind. From behind her Sarah felt the creeping cold and knew the anger of the storm that crackled in the distance. She turned back and saw in a flash of lightening the falling rain. This was the first time all things had not seemed bent to Gavin’s will.
The door opened just a crack and then pulled half-way back. They tumbled in through the door way and helped push close the heavy oak door behind them. A tall wisp of a man was behind the door. His long tree like arms were carefully brushing the dust off of his suit with a dignified air.
“I suppose you’ve come for dinner then,” he turned gracefully his body long and spidery with movements like a willow tree. He led them down a long hall past all the rooms. Some doors were closed and Sarah let them pass, but a few were open. On one a man sat staring out the window, in another only slightly cracked she saw a man and woman who were better left undisturbed, in the last one a little man sat cross-legged on the bed grinning like a fool jester. Sarah stopped after she had past it certain she had seen the man before. She took a step back to look at him again but found no one there. She took a step forward puzzled. Looking back and forth around the room she found nothing.