Chapter 4. Fried Eggs

The next few days she was careful to remain inconspicuous. There were skirmishes with the wild maned centaur that wandered the paths, but for the most part Gared’s amazing knowledge of the mountains kept them from peril. Gared also explained that the White Mantle of Kryta had some influence here; the Stone Summit dared not wander this far. Soon she noticed a change from chill to warmth, until one night there was not a hint of frost at their camp on a sandy flat below the mountains. In the morning they entered a green rolling land. There was at last grass under her feet. She had to contain the impulse to run and laugh, but Gared had warned her it was still a wild place, not at all the civilized land that Ascalon had been.

“Dale, walk behind Beken and stop wandering off.” Gared said when the fancy of a butterfly had distracted her. She nodded and fell in behind the plodding warrior. Still, she felt the vitality of the land in her bones, it was hard to keep such a slow pace with the sun beaming down and the birds singing. She felt she would burst after being in dead or dormant lands for such a long time.

“Dale…”

She darted back to the party and this time stayed there. It was a long day of forcing herself to be attentive to what she was doing. Dale wanted nothing more than to just forget about where she was going and what was likely to happen when Galyew discovered he had the wrong packet. They paused in the trees as evening began to fall among a screaming symphony of cicadas. Gared took the opportunity of the racket to draw her aside. He gestured at a nearby hillside and a path that led between them.

“Alright…there’s a lot of tengu around here.” He saw the look on her face and sighed. “Bird people…vicious bastards in general, so remember to just run. Anyhow, you need to follow the path. When you come to an area with a deserted wooden watchtower and stone walls on the berms, look for a path going west into a cleft. When you are through the cleft go south until you come to a village…and that would be Bergen. Look for Kouric there. You will leave when I bring the Skales to our little camp.”

“Skales?”

“When you see giant slimy lizards attacking, go as quickly as you can.”

“I can’t leave you.”

“It is in my interest that you go and it is in your interest that they never meet Kouric. He’s a loner. I suspect my guild mates would have no compunction about robbing or killing him. These are desperate people.”

Gared turned back to the camp and she set to starting a fire. She saw Gared slip off into the undergrowth as she stirred the evening’s meal. Galyew and Oran were involved in some kind of petty squabble and Beken was napping in the shade, his armor half off. Still the hum of the insects stopped her from hearing much of anything. There was a cracking of foliage as Gared came plunging back into the camp, behind him a half dozen grey skinned beasts were hissing angrily, their hides bloodied with arrows. Chaos ensued as Beken rose with a shout, Galyew sprayed fire across the camp, which caused Oran to squeal in terror and knock over the pot on the fire. She pretended to be terrified of the monsters and ran away with a shriek, gracefully stooping to grab her bow and pack as she did so. She bounded through the undergrowth and hoped that the skales were nowhere near as bad as they looked.

It was what she had longed to do all day. She concentrated ever so slightly and let herself be bourn forward by the energy of the land itself. Dale smiled and lowered her head, imagining as she often did that she was a hawk on the wing or a swift deer. However, such fancies were those of a naive girl, and she did not understand that many eyes were watching her racing figure on the narrow road. She heard first a coughing call that reminded her of a jaybird scolding. Then she did see a tengu. It stood like a man, but its head and arms were like an eagle’s. The sight amazed her; for the beast was splendid in the fading sun, but the awe was not mutual.

It raised a gleaming sword with a chaffing cry and charged toward her. Dale spun on her feet and zipped away, suddenly remembering herself in the face of such trouble. Arrows whizzed past and she saw more of them coming over the gentle rise of a hill. She uttered a soft curse, wishing that Gared had perhaps described a little more about the Tengu. She had gotten the impression that maybe there were a few, not this screeching army. They seemed determined to pursue her and their intelligence shone through as they ran either side, ready to trap her should she slow down. Their chirps and calls seemed almost taunting as they followed.

She could not run at this speed forever; she could feel the drain on her body already. Then, as she started to lose hope, she saw several gigantic figures ahead of them. Her hope sank a little more as she realized it wasn't cover but huge gray monsters. The ettins gave a growling cry of recognition and charged towards her. She dodged a massive club and managed to roll between and under the legs of one of them. Then, somehow, she was out on the other side. Behind her the ettins and tengu were busily tearing each other apart. Thankful for whatever secret enmity existed between them, Dale let herself slow down after a hundred paces or so, drank some water and moved on.

A sliver of moon lit her way towards the lights of a village to the south. She moved more cautiously, her senses honed by the encounter with the Tengu. She sensed that the darkened land was full of life, and much of it was hostile. She crept through ferns and thorny scrub to avoid more tengu. It took a great deal of willpower to not curse at the entangling plants. When the way opened more and she did not see any more tengu it was a relief to walk on the path again. The lights were very close now and she smiled at the thought of a roof over her head.

She was nearly there when the distinctive hiss of an arrow passed nearby. She shuffled awkwardly back into the undergrowth and tried to see what was targeting her. Then she saw the outlines of several archers on a hilltop. Moving softly she saw the moonlight shining through them. It reminded her of light through rafters until she realized that the rafters were the ribcages. The archers were skeletal. Dale decided to run for the town; if anything she though that the lantern light would keep them away, and she did not want to stay out in the night with whatever else might be lurking. She ran towards the lanterns with all of her power, falling once when a bolt struck her side. She lurched to her feet and ran for the narrow gap in the hills that marked the entrance to the town.

She felt nauseous as she clambered through the gate. A watchman flicked a light over her as she entered. She found a place against a grassy bluff and attended to her wound in the darkness. It was hard getting the arrow out, but once it was done she applied a little of her dwindling supply of unguent. It seemed a long while before she stopped sweating and fighting the urge to throw up; the arrows were poisoned. When she felt better, Dale warmed her hands at a fire before its tender asked her if she wanted boiled crab for dinner. Looking down at the unfamiliar leggy mass in a cauldron, she refused. The woman shooed her away with a stirring stick. Dale was disappointed to discover that Bergen was merely a collection of wagons and tents around a deep pool of steaming water. In the dancing orange shadows, she saw many people sleeping on the grass.

In the morning, she wandered around the camp asking questions. The little community was buzzing with rumors about a murder, and no one seemed to know who Kouric was. She finally saw a group of adventurers preparing to leave and accosted them.

“I’m looking for Kouric.”

“You want him?” The elementalist looked somewhat surprised. His companions seemed to be suppressing wide grins.

“Yes I have a message for him.”

“He’s down near the merchant. He’s the one asleep in the wide brimmed hat. Sleeping off the proceeds of another Temple of Ages run.”

She gave the man a puzzled look. ”What exactly is that?”

“He knows his way through all the swamps out here. He drinks a lot.”

“Is he a drunk?”

“No, just odd. And kind of mean”

“How?”

“He absolutely laughs if the people he is guiding get in trouble. Doesn’t care a whit if they bring it on themselves and die…but he always makes it back here for a beer, scrub up and a nap.” The mage shrugged. “Anyhow I’d wait until he wakes up…he likes a good sleep.”

She said a farewell to them and went to sit down next to Kouric’s still form. He didn’t stink of beer at least, he just looked shabby and skinny in his well worn clothing. He certainly did not look wealthy or particularly skillful. She looked at his calloused hands and leathery bare feet, but as yet she could not see the face under the hat. Occasionally he would shift on his pillow of armor and backpack, but there really was not much to see. In fact, he was as interesting or dull as any other adventurer in all of Tyria. She sighed as the sun came up over the hill and shone on them. To her mind, it was now getting late.

“Quit staring at me. I am trying to sleep and I can feel your eyes on me. Never seen a ranger sleep before?”

“I have a message for you from Jael.”

“What does he want?” The voice from beneath the hat sounded put out, but the rest of the body was stretching and working out the night’s kinks. One hand reached out and touched the bow and staff on the grass beside him. Finally, he set the hat aside and treated her to a full dark-eyed glare. She saw how his black mane was flecked with grey and his tanned face had a network of fine scars. Along one arm, an old burn had sculpted a line of pale melted flesh.

“The letter?”

She shuffled to get the packet out of her armor and he watched with a sharp hawkish expression as she slowly extricated it. She made a face as she handed it to her; it was somewhat damp from her exertions getting to Bergen. Kouric did not seem to care; he read the inscription on the front and snapped the seal open, letting the red wax drop to the earth. Kouric held the letter up to read. At one point, she saw him peer over the edge at her. He finished and rumbled the parchment before letting it drop to the ground with a certain cynical finality.

“I am assuming you are Dale Winterhouse?”

“Yes.”

“Here is what I suggest. Go to Lion’s Arch and join a group of explorers going to the desert. You’ll learn more from them than you will from me. You need to experience the rest of the world, not some old codger’s running racket.”

“But I need a home…and I am tired…it has been such a long journey.”

“Yes, well here is my home.” Kouric gestured to the grass he was sitting on. “I don’t have a place for you and that is by choice. There was a time when I lived in a nice hall and had the kind of money Jael seems to think I have, but I grew tired of it. I like sleeping on good clean earth. I do the work of the temple by helping others to reach it.”

“I…”

“Well perhaps the journey was the training. Jael tends to be trite like that. You survived and you look fit, other than the bloodstains on that awful armor you are wearing.”

“What do I do?”

“I told you. Look sister, I’ll see about getting you some decent armor. You got a nice bow though…doesn’t look like one of Jael’s.”

“A ranger named Gared gave it to me.”

“Ah yes. Him.” Kouric cleared his throat and spat. “He still with Iron Thorn?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t sign anything did you?”

“No.”

“Good.” Kouric stood and stretched like a lean old cat and promptly knocked on the back of the wagon he was sleeping near. A groan sounded from the depths. “Luka! About those eggs?”

The wagon’s back opened and a rough looking man clambered out blinking in the sun. He yawned as he sat on the tailgate for a few minutes. “Do I look like a cook?”

“You promised me something to eat.”

“I see you have early business. My lady.” Luka nodded to her. The man scrambled out of his cart and pulled out a small iron basin. She watched as he put together a few pieces of charcoal followed by kindling. “Kouric.”

Kouric raised an index finger and a gout of flame lit the fire with a little pop! Dale jumped back as she was used to fire coming out of Galyew, and that was no pleasant memory. Kouric winked at her and laughed at her pale face. Theatrically, he pointed at her, made a slight lunging motion, and laughed even more when Dale danced away from him. She gave an embarrassingly girlish scream as a jet of flame shot over her shoulder.

“Jumpy little thing.” Luka commented. “Not used to your type being so nervous…like a piglet in a sausage shop.”

“Luka, eggs.”

Kouric started slowly pulling on his armor, all the while Dale was aware of his eyes on her. He had a sharp humor about him that was quite unlike Gared’s sad aloofness or Jael’s cunning silence. Dale found herself disliking him for picking out her fear so deftly and toying with her. The merchant cracked eggs into a skillet and toasted bread on a stick. Kouric squatted near the fire and watched raptly as egg joined bread and Luka handed him the result. Dale stood apart from them watchfully.

“So…who taught you to be afraid of magic?”

“I’m not afraid. I just don’t like it.” She replied, feeling her dislike growing stronger. He seemed a bit of a rogue, careless and crude. Certainly not the person she had expected.

“Jael has slipped up on his lessons…how is the old man doing?”

“He’s at Serenity Temple now.”

“Bad then. I would say bad. Damned if he ever let a soul care for him, the old idiot.” Kouric chewed on the bread. “This is a long way to come just for me to tell you no. Unhappy?”

She met his gaze as fiercely as she dared. “Yes.”

“Ha! Yes…well…I see you can be ugly as well.” Kouric shrugged. “Are you hungry?”

She crossed her arms. “I’ll just leave now. As you said yourself, I don’t need you. I’ve come a long ways and I will be fine on my own.”

“Aww, you are so proud as well. Please stay and I’ll take you to Lion’s Arch free of charge.”

“You are getting soft in your addled old age. So am I feeding our guest or not?” Luka asked.

“I’m not hungry.” Dale said this despite the fact her stomach was growling at the smell of food. The truth was that there was nothing in her bag to eat, but she did not want anything from him.

“You look like some avenging banshee from the underworld. I would think you need to eat.”

“Leave me alone.” Dale could feel angry, bitter tears brimming in her eyes.
Nothing was going to improve. She would be wandering and alone or threatened for the rest of her life…yes indeed, a wandering spirit, just bones and armor. She wanted security and happiness. She wanted to rest for a while. The last thing she wanted was another journey to a foreign city with a stranger. She turned her back on Kouric, picked up her pack and bow and walked towards the exit. Behind her, she heard him laughing again. ‘Fine.’ She thought. ‘I can go be alone without some scoundrel making fun of me.’

She strode through the gap in the hills in which the hot springs nestled and set off the way she had come. She felt hot tears on her cheeks and was thankful that Kouric was not there to see them. She would have rather walked the length of the Shiverpeaks again then let him see her weak.

Dale was not attending to her surroundings and it was only some other sense that brought her up short as she walked up the grassy hill. She saw the skeleton archers up on the hill again, this time outlined in the clear blue sun. Mindless sentries, they had not yet noticed her. She was well within bowshot and as she stood frozen, there she wondered if it was safe to move again. What would trigger them? She took a deep breath and slowly tiptoed to the cover of a crumbled wall. The scare had completely dried her eyes and drained her of all anger. She needed to be more careful. She crept around behind the wall and made it back to the road beyond the skeletons.

She had only gone a few hundred yards when she saw several Tengu lounging in the shade of a road cut. Sitting beneath a palmetto, she watched them pass a wineskin and chatter to each other. She sighed heavily, remembering well how hard it had been to escape them the day before, plus the road was narrow and she did not want to risk being tackled.

“Yeah this is a rough spot.”

She turned to see Kouric leaning against a boulder in plain sight of the Tengu who were now standing up and chirping as they noticed him. They made a last round of the wineskin and appeared to be discussing an attack. Dale sighed aloud.

“Oops, looks like they’ve seen us.”

The tengu surged forward with a fierce cry. Dale saw Kouric dash ahead of her with a few rather impolite words to the tengu. Arrows brushed past him. Dale took that moment to follow him since Kouric appeared to be their current target of hatred. Yet he broke right through them and it was simple for her to follow. He kept running ahead of her, and rather than be alone with hordes of tengu, she found herself forced to follow him.

“Keep up if you can!” He plunged forward and she found herself falling behind. She just didn’t have the kind of insane ability to keep running so fast and so far. He stopped on a hill top and called back to her. “Come on, you are dishonoring the old man poking along like that!”

Dale trotted up the slope and took the water skin that he offered her. She took a thankful gulp. He had the same assessing expression. He took the skin back and put it over his shoulder and in a clap of greenish light, he was gone and already down the hillside. Cursing to herself, she summoned what endurance she could to keep up with him, but it was all she could do to keep his streaming black hair in view. He passed right through another group of loitering tengu, forcing her to weave and dodge through swords, hexes and arrows to keep on his trail. Dale felt furious following him…she did not even want to, yet here she was risking her life to keep him in sight. It was pride. She would keep up.

They came to the place where the old watchtower leaned over the road. Finally, Kouric sat on a boulder and stretched out his legs. He grinned at her as she approached and slumped into the shade. She opened her water skin and drank until her head stopped pounding.