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There's No Place Like Home, Chapter 5


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#1 Laufey

Posted 09 March 2003 - 01:55 PM

Chapter 5 - Dark Forest Of Memory

Before the children could reach freedom they came across a very troublesome obstacle. There was a campfire right in their path, and right beyond that there were several dark figures, warming themselves against the night chill. Warriors, and worse than that. One of the Witches, Dekaras noticed. The younger one, the one who wasn't quite so unpleasant, was pacing back and forth by the fire, looking very tense and upset. She hadn't seen them, at least not yet, but he wasn't sure that they'd be able to get past both her and the warriors, not with them looking in so many directions at once. We don't dare stay here though. Somebody could happen upon us at any moment. We need something, some sort of distraction. What though? He looked about, trying to think of something. Then his eyes fell on his Best Friend, and he suddenly smiled. "Poppy," he whispered. "Give me those flowers, would you?"

The halfling looked puzzled, but she removed the red flowers she had braided into her hair earlier and handed them to him. He turned them over in his hands, examining them. The heart-shaped leaves were just as he recalled them, and so was the smell, sweet but with an underlying tinge of bitterness. Yes. Just as I thought. It's Fool's Rule. Now this should be good.

Swiftly, he tugged a spare piece of string out of his pocket, something he always tried to keep for emergency purposes. Never leave home without it… He picked a small rock off the ground, and tied it to the flowers so it would make a convenient weight. Then he bent towards his friend again, whispering into her ear. "When I give the signal, run. And for now, hold your breath." Not waiting for a reply, he tossed the small bouquet into the campfire, watching the grownups around it intently. For a few moments nothing happened. Then, red smoke rose from the fire and one of the large and fur-clad warriors started giggling, getting louder and louder with every passing second. Another one joined in, and a third one screamed and covered his head with his hands. "The sky is falling!" he yelled, running around in small and panicky circles. "The sky is falling!" As for the Witch, she had dropped to all fours like a dog, and was barking loudly at the moon, pausing now and then to pant loudly with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. A small and satisfied smile crossed the boy's lips at the sight of this. Heh. I guess now she is really a…female dog.

The herb had worked just as it should, exactly like he remembered it from his lessons in herbal lore. Infamous for the hallucinations its smoke caused, it would drive people temporarily out of their minds. Of course, there were always a few fools who tried it voluntarily. For now, it had certainly served its purpose. The camp was in an uproar, with people running here, there and everywhere, trying to make sense of what was going on, and it was past time to get out of here. Giving Poppy a swift nudge he ran, making sure to keep out of the wind so they wouldn't get in the way of the smoke.

Poppy ran as fast as she could, following her friend into the night and out into the plains again, still managing to marvel at the enormous amount of stars visible overhead, like sparkling jewels on a black cloth. Eventually, they were far enough away that they felt reasonably certain they wouldn't be discovered, and they stopped, hiding themselves in the high grass once more. As they lay there, Poppy suddenly noticed something. "The ring!" she exclaimed. "It's glowing again, look!"

"It must have recharged itself," her Best Friend said with a brief nod. "I thought it would, given enough time."

"Will you try it again?"

"Sure. I think I know how to do it now. As long as I tell it exactly where we want to go, it should work." Having put his arm about her shoulders he pulled her closer towards him, and then she saw him twist the glowing ring around, fingers trembling a little. "Home…" she heard him murmur, his brows knitted together in deep concentration. "Take us home." Then there was a brief flash of light, and they were in a different place altogether.

It wasn't the Assassin's Guild back in Surthay, unfortunately. Rather, it was a deep dark forest. Tall pines and firs crowded in on the two children like silent giants, leaning over them. The smell of bark and pine needles was strong, and there was thick moss on the ground. Apart from that, it was too dark to see anything much. "Dekkie?" Poppy asked. "Where are we?"

"I…I don't know," her friend said, sounding quite dismayed. "I meant for us to go home, I really tried. I don't know what went wrong."

Poppy sighed. "Well, at least I guess those bad men can't get us here." Then she thought of something unpleasant. "Dekkie? Do you think there might be wolves here?"

"Don't know, but wolves don't tend to attack people anyway."

"Oh. That's all right then."

"Bears might though. They're more aggressive."

"Oh! Er…think there are any bears here?"

"I have no idea. But even if there are, we can't do anything about it." With that, he slumped onto the ground, yawning with exhaustion. "Wish I could have set an angry bear on those Tarllys-Gardje Wychlaran."

"Yeah!" Poppy enthusiastically agreed, joining her friend on the ground and resting her head against his chest. She was silent for approximately three seconds. "Dekkie? What does that mean?"

"I can't tell you. I'm not even supposed to know that sort of words."

"Aw, pleeeeease?"

"No."

"Come on! You can whisper it to me, then you won't really have said it out loud, will you?"

The boy considered this. "All right," he said, moving over towards her. Poppy's eyes went very large and round as he whispered into her ear, and her mouth dropped slowly open.

"Wow!" the halfling said. "I didn't even know you could do that with a dead goat. Wouldn't it be kind of…"

"Poppy, it's just something you say. At least I think so. I don't think even grownups could possibly be that strange."

"I don't know…grownups do all sorts of strange things. Like trying to make you go to bed when you aren't sleepy, or wash when you aren't dirty. Or think that it's possible to play outside and avoid mud puddles." Poppy yawned again. "Dekkie? I'm really hungry now, aren't you?"

"Yes. But it's too dark to look for food now, we'd only get more lost." He sighed, sounding deeply regretful. "I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what went wrong, I thought I did it right. You heard me, I told that stupid ring that I wanted to go home. But now we're still lost, and it's not working again."

"Hey, you did your best! Nobody can make everything work out right."

"I could. Or I should. But I will get us home, I promise. Somehow."

"Of course you will. Say, Dekkie? How about telling me that story now? You did promise."

Her Best Friend was silent for a moment. "Yes," he finally said. "And I will. But not until tomorrow. I…need to get some rest first." After that he was silent, and the two children cuddled up against each other in an uneasy sleep, as a pack of wolves howled in the far distance, little rodents scurried squeaking across the forest floor, and the pale moon rose high over the treetops.

Poppy was awakened early the next morning by her Best Friend nudging her. Yawning, she sat up, squinting at the sun that trickled down through the treetops. Immediately, her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and very loudly too. “Ouch…” she winced. “I’m really hungry now.”

“Well, we’re in luck, sort of,” her Best Friend said. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” He pointed at a large leaf on the ground, on which a fairly large heap of wild strawberries lay.

“Ooooh! Food! Here, let’s split them. One for me, one for you, one for me, one for you…”

“That’s all right. I had some already, while you were sleeping. Go on, you have them.”

Poppy was just about to cram a fist full of strawberries into her mouth when she suddenly thought of something. Her Best Friend was looking far too indifferent for her liking. “Yeah, right,” she said, feeling a little annoyed. “How many? One? Two?”

The boy looked a little embarrassed and avoided meeting her eyes. “Three, if you must know.”

“Dekkie, you’re hopeless, you know that? I don’t want you to starve yourself for my sake, don’t you get that?”

“But I’m more used to going without than you are. I can manage, honestly.”

“No buts! If you don’t eat just as much as I do, I’ll…I’ll hold you down and ram them down your throat myself, see if I don’t!”

For a moment her Best Friend’s eyebrows knitted together with annoyance, but then a big and rare smile split his face, lighting it up. “You would too, wouldn’t you? Fine, fine, you win. Let’s split them then.”

The strawberries didn’t exactly satiate the children’s hunger, but they took the edge off it and mostly quenched their thirst, making them feel a little stronger than before. Once this immediate urge was satisfied, Poppy looked about herself curiously. The wood wasn’t quite as dense as it had seemed the night before, there was space enough between the trees to allow the sun to filter down, forming alternating pools of light and shadow. Many kinds of sweetly smelling flowers grew in patches on the ground, birds chirped in the treetops and now and then she could hear a small rustle as some little rodent passed by them. Unfortunately, there were also quite a few mosquitoes and flies, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. The halfling eyed a black squirrel watching from a branch and fingered her sling consideringly. Strawberries were good, but meat would be even better. However, the animal disappeared before she had the time to get out a proper stone. She turned to her Best Friend instead, intent on other matters.

The boy was sitting with his back leaning against a tall tree with silvery bark, his hands on his knees. He was twisting a strand of grass between his fingers, as if he needed something to keep himself occupied, and he was looking very thoughtful. “We’re still in Rasheman, in case you were wondering,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“See that tree over there?”

Poppy looked in the appointed direction, to see another of the silvery trees. However, long and narrow strips of bark had been peeled from this one, creating odd patterns along the trunk. “That’s a Rashemani birch,” her friend said. “They only grow here, and they’re very special. You can peel strips of the bark, like that, without hurting the tree, and then you can make all sorts of things from them if you know how. Baskets, boxes, knife handles, that sort of thing. The older bark is darker and the newer layers lighter, so you can even make patterns and decorations. My parents used to gather it during part of the year, and then we’d go back to live with the rest of the tribe and spend the rest of the year making stuff. Some for trading with other tribes, and some for ourselves. I used to get to help, I probably still remember how.” He looked steadfastly at the tree. “For all I know, it could have been me who peeled that one in the first place. I was quite good at it too, you know.”

“Yes?” Poppy said, biting her nails and hardly daring to breathe. She could sense that the story she had been waiting for so long to hear was finally forthcoming.

“Yes.” He smiled, but it wasn’t a particularly happy smile. “Good practice for lock picking, I guess. And I suppose I could always take up basket weaving if I should change my mind about being an assassin. But anyway, that wasn’t the only thing I got training in.” His voice had gone curiously empty now, and his eyes were looking far off into the distance, into another time and place. “You wanted to know how come I could see those wards back at the camp? Simple enough. It…was mage sight.”

“Mage sight? But…”

“But I’m not a mage?” Again that faint, mirthless smile. “No. I’m not. But I should have been. And I was trained for it, up until last year that is. That was when They came.”

“Th-they?”

“The Wychlaran. The Witches of Rasheman. They’re the real rulers, you know. They think they own the country, and they think they own us. It’s funny you know…if I’d happened to be a girl I guess I’d have become one of them. But in Rasheman, the male mages don’t take part in ruling. They serve.” His voice was cold with hatred by now, and raw with old pain, but though she ached to say something comforting Poppy didn’t dare to do so at the moment. He needs to tell me, and if I interrupt him he may never get started again. “Like I said, they serve,” her Best Friend said, still staring into the distance. They’re all cooped up in these caves high up in the mountains, and they spend all their time making magical items for the Witches to use, for as long as they live. And they live quite a long time too, the Witches see to that with magic. Guess they don’t want to waste anybody while they can still use them. The vremyonni is what they’re called. The Old Ones. But who wants to live a long life as a slave? Not me. They aren’t even allowed to leave for a short while if the Wychlaran don’t let them, and they don’t do that. I guess they’re too afraid they’ll lose their…pets.”

Poppy was feeling quite nauseous by now, but from the stony look on her friend’s face she had a feeling it was going to get worse.

“Of course,” he said, “I hadn’t exactly been told about that bit. They put that off until it was time for me to be taken away. Then they told me, and then they told me that it had to be my own choice. I could refuse if I wanted to, but I wouldn’t enjoy it. But I told them no anyway. They hadn’t told me what would happen, but how bad could it be, I thought?” He gave a short sound that was halfway between laughter and a sob. “Stupid me. It was worse. Far worse.” By now he was leaning his arms on his knees, and had buried his face in the crook of one elbow. “Yes,” he said, his voice muffled. “Far worse. They took it away. They said they wouldn’t allow me to cause any damage by being disobedient and a rogue magic user, and then they cut my mind open with their spells and took the magic away. It hurt. Actually, it still does.” He was silent for a few seconds, and then went on. “I still dream about it sometimes, you know.”

Do I ever, Poppy thought, tears streaming down her cheeks. Those are the dreams that have you practically screaming in your sleep, aren’t they? Oh Dekkie. Why didn’t you tell me?

“I thought they’d kill me,” the boy went on. “Then I hoped they would. But they didn’t.” Again that terrible coldness crept into his voice. “They told me that I could still be useful, once I got old enough. Like with horses.”

“Horses?”

“Yes. If you have a really fast horse, and it hurts its leg so it can’t run as fast anymore, you don’t always have to kill it, or at least not at once. You can use it first. You know. To get some fast foals.”

Poppy had grown up on a farm, and she had an idea of what he meant, but she didn’t want to think about it too hard. Doing so made her stomach heave.

“I didn’t really want that,” her Best Friend went on, still speaking into his elbow, “and I got very lucky. I managed to kill one of Them, and I managed to get away. I almost died on the way to Thay though. Then Master Odesseiron found me, you know, my sponsor into the Guild.” He paused for a moment. “I know he only saved me because he thought I could be useful to him, but I still owe him. He’s no different than other grownups. They only care about how they can use you.”

“Not everybody…what about…what about your parents? Didn’t they…”

Again that sound that wasn’t quite laughter. “My parents? Oh, they cared all right. About ‘doing the proper thing.’ I guess they were really disappointed in me. They certainly looked like it when they looked on as the Witches did…what they did. But they never cared about me. They approved of what was done. I had shamed them, I guess, by refusing. It was bad for the family honor, and that I finally couldn’t help screaming for help wouldn’t have made things better. So don’t talk to me about parents. They only wanted me for as long as they thought they could sell me to the Wychlaran like a prize horse, and then when I wasn’t useful any longer I might as well have been garbage. The parents of the children who get taken away get paid well enough, I’m sure my parents were very disappointed. And that’s how grownups are. If you’re no use to them, then they don’t want you.”

“Not my parents.”

“Maybe. Maybe halflings are different. I don’t know, but I do know about humans.”

“What about Master Gorbia though? He’s nice to us, isn’t he?”

“Oh, sure. Because we’re going to become part of the Guild one day, and earn him back the money and time invested in us.”

For a moment Poppy wondered if she should mention Emalen, but then she decided against it. After all, it was the elf who had upset her friend enough to get them into this mess in the first place. Instead, she scooted over to get closer to her friend, and then wrapped her arms firmly around his neck. “Well, I care,” she said. “You’re my Best Friend and I care a lot, and I want you around for a very long time and don’t care if you’re useful or not, and…and I’d like to smack those nasty Witches for hurting you like that, and stab them, and choke them, and…and I don’t want you to be any other way than you are. Except maybe a little happier. You know that, right?”

There were a few seconds silence, and then she felt her Best Friend carefully hug her back, as he exhaled slowly in a long breath of relief. “Yes,” he finally said, and there was a strange sense of wonder in his voice. “Yes Poppy. I do know that. I don’t know why, but I do know it. And thanks for bugging me about this. I…didn’t want to tell you at first, but now that I have it feels good.”

“Sure thing,” the halfling said with a broad grin. “I’m your Best Friend, like I said. I’ll always be happy to bug you when you need it.”

“You know what? I believe you.”

Having sat in companionable silence for a while, the two apprentice assassins eventually set out through the forest. Since they didn’t know where they were, it didn’t really make any difference in which direction they went, but they took care to try to keep as straight a path as they could. After all, as Poppy put it, walking in circles would get them nowhere, but if they just kept straight the forest had to end sometime. Not even her friend’s comment that some of the Rasheman forests were big enough that you could walk through them for weeks without seeing another person was enough to daunt her spirits. At least there weren’t any Witches here, which was definitely to be counted on the plus side of things. As cheerful as she normally was, the halfling still felt very angry whenever she thought about her friend’s story, angry enough that it made her want to hurt those ‘Nasty Bad Witches’ really bad. She privately resolved to do so if she ever got the chance.
Rogues do it from behind.




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