Chapter 61. Corsairs

erhaps because she longed for adventure, Azuri took to following the stranger and decided he was her charge.  After all, she had found him on the beach, or would have found him eventually if Tahar had not intervened.  In the morning she gathered the leavings of the prior evening’s meal and took it outside the gate to feed the tiger.  If she were patient the beast eventually emerged from the heavy brush and swiftly devoured the offering. The poor creature’s ribs were beginning to stare from its magnificent hide.  After the second day, a crowd of curious onlookers followed her to point and gasp at the magnificent white and black beast, the like of which none of them had ever seen before.

As for Gunter, his memory never improved.  It was a tragic case.  Each morning he awakened more confused, sometimes with a completely new name.  That day he insisted upon being called Terrance.  Azuri decided it was an ugly name but humored him.  She brought him her father’s mirror and shaving razor since Migeira was a widow and no longer kept such things around. Sitting on the rough veranda overlooking the azure sea, she watched the Canthan staring at himself in disbelief, shifting his face this way and that as he studied his reflection.

“This is not my face,” he murmured, running his finger along the smooth rise of his delicate nose.  Next he traced his thin intelligent brows, “I am Kurzick, I do not look like this.”

She frowned, pitying the man.  He was actually quite lovely to look upon with his warm golden skin and exotic almost feline features.  His visage put her in mind of stories from her childhood of wise forest guardians, ancestor spirits that dwelt in the trees.  Perhaps that was his true nature and he had become disoriented from his forest home.  But no, that was a foolish thought.  He did speak Canthan.  Azuri sometimes overheard him mumbling in his native tongue but she did not understand enough to guess what troubled him at such times.

Rising, she went to Migeira’s side to help the elder grind freshly dried roots for her herb craft.  Her wizened face betrayed an inkling of distrust as they worked, her black eyes darting surreptitiously toward their guest.

“What is wrong with him, Migeira?” Azuri asked, keeping her voice low.

“I fear a man who is not at home in his body.  I do not think it belongs to him.”

Azuri was chilled by those words.  There were stories told in the evenings when the children were abed, some true, others too fantastic to be believed.  Sometimes as the villagers gathered around the tables drinking palm wine under the stars, her father would be cajoled into spinning a tale of his travels.  Sometimes he alluded to creatures that stole the bodies of others, doppelgangers and demons, old evils that fed upon the minds of humankind. Azuri shuddered to think of these beings existing.  The old healer looked grimly upon their strange guest, shaking her head slowly.

“In his sleep another voice emerges.  This one may be possessed.  Your father has gone for help.  I hope he returns in time.”

Azuri resolved to pray for guidance.  The gods sometimes spoke to her in dreams and visions and her father sometimes alluded to her extraordinary talents with a mixture of pride and sadness.  She missed him and wondered what kind of help he was seeking.  At that moment, the Canthan did not appear dangerous, just sad and very alone.

“Cosairs! Attacking!” cried Tahar breathlessly, his gangling legs carrying him swiftly through the village gates.  Azuri’s blood turned cold and she rose without thinking, rushing to her hut to gather her scythe and heavy robes.  The village was in an uproar as she hastily prepared herself for battle.  Why had they come?

Her red gown flowing around her like flames, she dashed toward the southern gate that opened upon the shallows of the Metani Keys.  There, headman Kehtah and a dozen of their best fighters were already gathered.  Bows, curved blades, spears and scythes were clutched in their hands while the weaker members of the village were hiding in their makeshift huts.

Storms wove constantly through the keys and nothing long withstood them.  They had walls to hide behind, but the seawall that had once warded their fishing boats was long gone. Their homes were made of mud brick and palm fronds, as easily replaced as they were destroyed.  Far more sinister than any act of nature were the corsairs.  If they were of a mind, the corsairs could overrun the village easily and take whatever they wanted.

She watched them anxiously through the cracks between the crudely lashed palm logs of the gate.  At least sixty had come, enough to outnumber her people three to one.  Bearing nets and weapons, their swathed figures were menacing as they stood outside spear reach of the gate.  Elder Kehtah trembled with rage, and quite possibly fear, as he bid the gate be opened and he strode outside.

“Why do you threaten us? We paid tribute, we hide your misbegotten treasures.”

“Give us the man who arrived with the tiger,” said a tall hunched figure, striding forth in his long black robes.  Azuri heard several of her clan mutter a name that was used to keep recalcitrant children in line.  Ugly Aheem.  He was hideous, she decided, with his scarred and weathered face.  All number of horrible things had been attributed to him, from eating small children to poisoning wells.

Kehtah scowled darkly and made a dismissive gesture.

“You send three score to wrestle a broken man from us?  What a cowardly act.  Do not trouble my people or my guest.”

“You are in no position to refuse us, old man.  Give us the demon hunter or we burn your village to the ground,” Aheem spat.

“Whoever told you he was a demon hunter clearly lied,” Kehtah snapped but Azuri could see the stricken glances passing among her friends and relatives.  Ugly Aheem did not make empty threats and many of the corsairs bore flasks of oil and torches.

“The stranger is not one of us,” said Calil quietly.  He was her uncle and a man she greatly adored.  Kehtah frowned as the corsairs advanced on the gate threateningly.  Then, to her horror, the white tiger roared into their midst, its bony form wobbling pathetically as it raked the air before the advancing corsairs.  Before the beast had another chance to snarl, it was feathered with arrows.  Her scream pierced the stunned silence as the majestic creature dropped onto its side and grew still.

From Migeira’s hut came a piercing wail of agony.  It was the stranger and he staggered toward the gate with a stricken look upon his face.  Azuri rushed to his side as he floundered, the breath rushing from his mouth in staggered gasps.  Then, gazing up at her, she saw a flicker of confusion in his dark eyes.

“Where am I?” he demanded, “What is this place?”

Something had changed and she felt the intensity of his keen intellect crashing against her mind.  He gazed up in alarm as her people surrounded him. To her relief, he withdrew and stepped away from her.

“You must go with those men,” Kehtah said to the stranger, gesturing toward the advancing corsair, “If you do not, my people will be harmed.”

Confusion roiled the Canthan’s delicate features but he nodded, resigned to his fate.  Stepping away from her, he strode toward the assembled corsairs and hesitated for a moment to gaze upon then.  Then, eyes down, he strode into their midst and suffered the weight of their nets and the points of their spears pricking his shoulders and breast until he knelt.  Azuri moved instinctively forward and was drawn back by Kehtah’s wizened hand.

“Let him go, Daughter.  It is for the best.”