Chapter 2

  An Unexpected Detour

  The bandits carried Nephis and Moss right up to the edge of the Cyroil wood, where the trees were still ordinary, and tossed her down into the dirt and made camp. They hooted and hollered as they opened up her purses, brimming with gold. “We’re rich! I’m rich!” one of them exclaimed. Quickly, the younger ones began to bicker just how the booty was to be divided up, while the more wizened among them set up the camp. The captain would split the treasure as he saw fit. Nephis wriggled herself to a log that lay at the edge of the clearing and pulled herself onto it. She sat perfectly straight with her chin held high, staring down her nose despite everything. Moss sat next to her, not speaking out of turn, as she had taught him. Nephis pulled and pulled against her binding, but they were simply too tight for her.

  “So, what are we going to do about her?” one of the bandits asked.

  The boss glanced at Moss before answering, “We were asked to take care of her, so that’s what we’ll do. Why?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  The same bandit, a sallow and greasy man, slid next to her, "It's just that she's a pretty one," he suggested. He grabbed her by her cheeks and turned her, presenting her to the captain. "It just seems like a waste, you know -? There was a flash of silver in the darkness, and he fell silent, still gormlessly staring up at the captain.

  And then, the head of the bandit slid from him, cut between his still lecherous grin, and plopped into the wet grass. His body fell after him. A sword hung idly by Nephis' shoulder, and standing half engulfed in the darkness was a man. He was covered head to toe in armor and furs, and wore a wooden mask - the visage of a snarling demon. But before the silence was broken, he flung himself forward, chopping wildly at the bandits, a thin blade in each hand. Nephis could hardly follow the carnage as he tore through them. A head, a hand, bowels all split from the thieves as they still collected themselves. Some charged at him with bare knuckles or daggers. When they grew too close, the demon kicked and kneed and threw them to the ground in a flurry of blows. The rest scattered into the darkness. Yet he did not follow them, but only watched them disappear.

  Nephis stared in awe at her savior, it was hard to make out his form, he wore dark clothes and a great, greying fur cape, his mask too had a white mane. Not one inch of him was open, his gloves were tied shut, and even his brigandine was covered by a shirt. But he stood, breathing heavily in the dull light of the fire, ever watching through darkened eyes. Once the sound of fleeing disappeared, the man stepped toward her. Nephis managed to slip her gag off.

  “You’ve saved me!” she exclaimed, “Would you mind loosing these binds? They are rather tight.”

  He jut his blade in front of her face, “I’m going to sell you as a slave.”

  “W-what?” she exclaimed.

  “The brigand was right,” he kicked the half-faced one, “You have a pretty face. I’m going to take you to Remare and sell you to a slaver headed to Ebedi Devlet. I’m sure you’ll end up in some noble court or maybe a harem if you’re lucky, so don’t worry,” he spoke in an austere but unadorned tone, with nary a flourish or blemish, like the dull ringing of a church bell. “I suppose I could get thirty . . . five or so gros off of you. Even if you are deficient in some ways.” He waved his sword about her body.

  “S-Silver!” she burst, “I’m worth at least thirty-five solis! I am a noble! And my physique is as royal as they come!”

  To this, the man had nothing to say.

  “And if it’s money you want, I can pay you,” she huffed. “There’s a bag, just over there . . .Ah.” The bandit who had held onto the purses was a bloody mess, but the bags were gone. “I’m a daughter of the High King. If you take me to any Lord, they will be sure to reward you handsomely!” Nephis stammered, and then began to reach about for her signet ring. She turned around, her face in the dirt, trying to spot it. They had taken that too.

  “Well?” the man asked.

  “Look at me! Look at my clothes and a dullard could tell as much!” she exclaimed.

  He ignored her. Instead, he turned his attention to Moss, who sat patiently by. “And what about you?” he asked, “Are you going to come along?”

  “Yes!” Nephis exclaimed in a rush, “Kill him, Moss!”

  “But he saved you,” Moss quietly answered.

  “No, he’s dangerous,” she reprimanded, “Crush him!”

  “Moss? Is that your name?” the man asked curiously, “Don’t worry, Moss, I’ll make sure to protect her.”

  Moss tilted his head in thought for a while, “Hm . . . Do you promise?”

  “Moss! No! Kill him! Crush him! Rip his arms off!” she demanded.

  “Don’t worry, Moss. She’s still just frightened from this whole ordeal. I’ll make sure she gets to Remare in one piece.”

  “Very well,” Moss slowly agreed.

  “Gaaarhg!” Nephis groaned.

  “Calm down,” Moss advised in an old and sage voice, “You’ll get hurt if you’re rash.”

  Nephis swore she heard the man snort.

  “What is your name?” Nephis coldly asked.

  “Kugo,” he eventually answered.

  “A barbarian name fits a barbarous man,” she spat, “Once I am free, I will make sure you are hunted down and slain.”

  “Yes, yes,” Kugo echoed as he laced a leash through her wrists. He unbound her feet and pulled her up. “Come along now, your highness.”

  He led them deep into the woods. Nephis did not run; he was armed and at least a foot taller than her. She might have tried to cast a spell, but her arms were so well bound that she could hardly turn her wrists, let alone wave them. And seeing no hill or any sort of hiding place, she bid her time and followed him further into the darkness. A hundred yards from where the bandits had set up camp, Kugo collected a pack that sat snugly in the hollow of a tree. It was packed to the brim, its bedroll hanging from the bottom and a bow and quiver tucked into a sewn-on sleeve. He slung it over his shoulders in a single motion and continued leading them forward.

  Soon they came to the edge of the great forest. A rotting tree sat before Nephis, it was as wide as a house. And its roots as tall as steps. A great black void lay before them. Yet Kugo hooded his lantern, only letting a sliver of light before them. He pulled her forward into the long night of the Ceroil Wood. It was deathly quiet, and Kugo hardly made a sound as he walked. It really was as if he were a specter or demon. Nephis and Moss could not help but snap branches and leaves, disturbing the silence. But Nephis was grateful for it. For even in any other wood, there was the twittering of birds and chittering of mice. But here it was as if even the creatures were afraid to be seen. Yet the trees had eyes. They were watching closely in every direction. Eyes made of black scars. They followed trespassers wherever they went. From pride and fear, Nephis did not dare say a word.

  They marched in the dark for a long while, yet always keeping to the edge of the Ceroil wood. However, this means little, even the thin border of the forest was a great deal in. But Kugo was sure to never venture very deep. He could always just make out the distant flickering of a star between the wide and dead canopy. He kept an open ear, even through all his regalia Nephis could tell as much. He scanned everything, only breathing when necessary. And he always kept a hand on his sword.

  As they walked, the ground still rugged, Nephis could just make out the end of a shallow cliff. And quietly, she kicked a rock into a distant tree. Kugo’s head whipped to that side, and in a moment Nephis bolted, the rope slipping from his fingers. She sprinted for the cliff and threw herself off, arms still bound, heels digging into the dirt wall. But as she fell, she fell deep. And in the darkness glowed two great, bulbous yellow eyes.

  A beast loomed over her. Its glowing, catlike eyes gazed hungrily at her. Its mouth, a row of knives twisted into a coiling grin. A paw stepped before her, and its head began to rise, its long neck uncoiling like a snake until it rested above her. It opened its snarling mouth and purred, its warm, wet breath foul with the stench of rot. The creature had awoken from its lazy slumber. And then from the cliff leapt Kugo, his bag tossed aside. He landed on the creature, driving his blades down, one into the lamplight eye and the other into the slitted snout. The monster wailed and shrieked in a mewling voice. Kugo slid down the creature, dragging his blades with him. He scooped the princess under his arm and fled.

  He ran and dodged, vaulting over vale and dancing around rock. With no regard for soft stepping, he was as fast as the wind, as quick as the deer. The creature gave pursuit. Its gallops and stomps shook the very ground. It bounded after them, howling the whole way, splattering blood wherever it went. And like time, it grew close and close until it snapped at Nephis’ dangling legs, only ever an inch behind. She felt its wet tongue against her leg, then she was jolted, and she soared. Kugo tossed Nephis into the small hollow of a tree and dove in after her. The beast dug its mouth in, its fangs gnashing at them, but the opening was too small. The tree shook as the monster pressed against it, rotten wood flecked away as it burrowed its skull deeper. All around them was the groaning and snapping of wood. Without saying a word, Kugo slung Nephis over his shoulder and began to climb up and through the dead tree. He crawled through a notch in the trunk and onto a low branch that led back to the surface, back to the old rugged path.

  Kugo finally stopped to catch his breath. The creature still snarling, still shaking and scratching at the tree. Nephis lay still on the ground, not wanting or able to say a word. He dragged her along the floor back to where his bag lay. But before they were there, he pulled her to her feet. And looked her in the eyes. His were still a pool of shadow.

  “Are you a fool?” he chastised her, “Do you want to be eaten? To be torn to shreds?”

  Nephis could not answer, all thoughts and words stuck in depth of her throat.

  “Stay with me,” he demanded, “Or you will die a wretched death.”

  Something bounded towards them, and Nephis flinched. It was Moss, carrying Kugo’s bag. He came to a sudden stop when he saw them, pushing up the grass and weeds. Moss handed over the bag and then looked down at Nephis, who was pale and damp with sweat. “Are you alright, Nephis?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she stammered.

  Moss nodded his head, though it was hard to see in the darkness, immersed in shadow only his jeweled eyes glinted in the lantern light. “Good,” he hummed and followed after Kugo.

  They trudged through the dark until they were far away from the beast. In this long walk, Nephis began to crumple, the panic and fear fled her body, and she was left feeling empty and tired. But Kugo did not stop, keeping the same vigilant outlook the whole way. Then the soft earth became stone. Nephis could not see it, but by the sound and feel it was clear that there was a stone road deep in the woods. She was astonished, but more so she was glad that the way would be a little easier for now. And for a while, the way was kind until Kugo set his bag down with a thud.

  “We’ll make camp here,” he said.

  “In the wood?” Nephis asked in a trembling, quiet voice.

  “This is a safe spot, so long as you don’t make too much noise,” he answered and pointed up. And all at once, Nephis realized that she could see clearly.

  Above them, the canopy broke and the stars poured through the hole. She had never given them too much notice, but now they seemed like old friends beckoning her home. The pale light of the moon and stars bathed the clearing in silver. Kugo first, they all sat at the edge of the road, which was made of great and heavy stones as long as a man, and sat against an old, cracked white tower. Nephis had seen these towers before; they dotted the countryside and always sat in craters and valleys, but this one did not. She never once imagined that she might find one in the woods.

  “Why don’t we spend the night in there?” she asked, pointing to the tower.

  Kugo shook his head, “I don’t like them,” he warned, “They make my stomach churn. It’s like a tomb.”

  “You’ve been in one?” she asked.

  “Once or twice. Thought I might rest, but I couldn’t get a wink,” he said as he began to unpack his things for the night.

  No one was sure where the towers had come from. All anyone knew was that they were here now. Most had long been salvaged for their stones, which were as hard as steel and, when not cracked, were well cut. But in the countryside side some still remained. As far as Nephis knew, the towers were merely the fashion of the Black Period, an era from which little survived.

  “Now, enough questions,” Kugo said, “I said not to make too much noise. I’ll make us something to eat, and then to sleep. We’ll leave at first light.”

  “I don’t need any of your food,” Nephis answered defiantly, unsure of what he might do to it.

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  “Suit yourself,” he dully answered.

  This only annoyed the princess more, but she dared not show that.

  Kugo built a fire, a good one fed by fallen logs and branches, which he cut to size with a small hatchet. And as it came to life, its heat warmed Nephis to her toes. Her shoulders fell, and the terror of the day pulled her into weariness. He took his hatchet again and cut deep into a loose root of a great tree, which began to bubble over with flowing water as clear as crystal. He filled a small, blackened pot and all his skins with it, and then began to cook. It was a simple stew made from long-stale bread and dried vegetables, bitter and pungent roots. But he had with him two treasures that he held lightly. One, a small pouch filled with shards, like brown glass, and a polished wooden box full of good, hearty salt. Gingerly, he sprinkled some in. But as the soup boiled, the steam rose and with it a most intoxicating aroma. Nephis shook herself from the stupor and looked around for any distraction.

  “What is this road?” she asked.

  “It’s the Kultan Way, it runs through the woods,” he replied with a sigh.

  “The Kultan Way?” she was dumbfounded. The Way was an old road that ran all along the continent. It was the main thoroughfare of traffic throughout Radina and as such as many towns were built along it as rivers.

  “If anything, the woods are at its heart,” he clarified with hardly a moment of wracking himself.

  “You certainly know a lot. Do you travel the Cyroil wood often? I wouldn’t put it past a barbarian like you,” she prodded him.

  “And what if I’m well read?” he challenged without an ounce of passion.

  “Well . . . are you?” she pushed.

  But he would say nothing more on the issue.

  At long last, the stew was finished, and Kugo poured himself a bowl. Nephis' stomach roared. She tried to quiet it down, to resist it, but she snapped in an instant. “Well. I suppose I could try a bowl,” she said in a haughty tone.

  “Ugh,” Kugo sighed, sounding truly disgusted. But he did not say a word. And at long last, he untied her bindings, and her hands and arms were awash with relief, feeling as light as feathers and terribly sore. But she forgot all that when he set a wooden bowl down in front of her. She stared at it for a moment. It did not look particularly appetizing. Brown and thick with bread. Even still she could not help but bring it to her lips and gently take a sip. She wolfed it down, scalding the roof of her mouth. Nephis wanted to curse, to beat the earth and scream. Whether by hunger or skill, it was delicious.

  Moss looked expectantly.

  “. . . Can you eat?” he asked.

  “Yes, he can eat,” Nephis interrupted.

  Kugo ignored her. The gall. “Can you eat?” he asked again.

  “I can,” Moss answered.

  And so Kugo undid his bindings and offered him a bowl, which Moss poured down his gullet in a single turn.

  “Did you like it?” Kugo asked curiously.

  “It was hot,” Moss decidedly answered.

  Kugo chuckled. “I suppose it would be.”

  Nephis watched Kugo eat with locked eyes and singular attention, hoping to see his face. But she was disappointed to find that a black cowl had been sewn into the mask, falling down to his chest. When he ate, Kugo removed the mask, but his face and neck remained hidden by the cowl. ‘How dull,’ Nephis thought. Once he had finished, Kugo loosely rebinded Nephis’ arms, and Moss’, she thought for a moment to run away. But where could she run? The forest was black, and she did not know the way, even then, she’d be lost in the hills. And so she flopped onto the hard earth, and with great difficulty, she went to bed. What a miserable life he must live, Nephis thought, to jump at a monster for thirty-five silver.

  When she awoke, Kugo was sat in the same way, still awake, still watchful. The sun had not yet fully risen, and so the morning was washed in a pale blue. And it was cold! Though it was summer, the nights in Radina were still crisp. And how her body ached, her hips were bruised, her arms stiff, and her face numb. She pulled herself up and gawked. The forest here was beautiful, ancient trees rose around them, their arms stretching across the sky. Vines and moss crept up their chests. The white tower, despite what Kugo had said, seemed serene and elegant despite its wear. So high were its walls, and so few its supports, it might have weighed nothing. Even the road, as mighty and austere as it was, seemed peaceful, grass and wildflowers as small as any peeked through its stones and mortar, having etched their way through the centuries. But beyond this small grove, the forest grew full of shadow.

  “You’re up?” Kugo asked, “Good, let’s get going.”

  “Without any breakfast?” Nephis whinged.

  Kugo grunted and dug through his bag, pulling from it a small roll which he shoved into her mouth. It was terribly stale, as hard as a rock. “There. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  The walk through the wood was the same as before, growing pitch black before long, with only pinpricks of light here and there. And she was wracked with the same unease, certain that another creature was lurking around the corner. But Kugo was careful to stay quiet and sure to guide them out. And at last, they stumbled out into the sunlight. It had only been a day, but she was glad to see it. Its warmth fell on her face like an old friend. So happy was she that she nearly forgot she was being kidnapped.

  “Come along,” Kugo ordered and tugged on her leash.

  He had led them, not onto the main road, but out in the hills where one could walk for days and not see another living soul. The hills were devoid of tree or road, so deep in the heart of the empire were they that not even soldiers or watchtowers were arranged for. They might as well have been in a desert. It was an emerald green sea, as rocky and tumultuous as the most fierce waters. So rugged were they, that some even said the lands were the corpse of an old, pagan god, and this is where the angry divine plunged his blade.

  They walked for many miles. But worse than the incline was the boredom. The hills were beautiful, but the excitement of wondering what was behind the next hill wore away quickly. For the answer was always the same.

  Kugo had been horrible to her. And he intended nothing good for her. But he had saved her life twice. And for that, Nephis was grateful. He was also a strange fellow. An excellent cook and, allegedly, a well-read man wandering the Ceroil wood like a bandit. Nephis was intrigued.

  “I suppose I should thank you for saving me,” she huffed, the first words she had spoken since the morning.

  “Oh? Has her majesty learned some manners?” he replied.

  “It is right to grace my subjects with the same honors I always carry myself with,” she said, “Then again, you are planning to sell me. Perhaps they are lost on you.”

  To that, Kugo did not say a word. He did not even look back at her.

  “But thank you,” Nephis said softly.

  “Of course,” he muttered under his breath, his tongue caught in his mouth.

  A brief moment of silence passed before Nephis began to pepper him with questions.

  “Where are you from?”

  “A small town to the north called Ordo,” he grunted.

  Nephis had never heard of such a place, it must have been a small town indeed. “What did you do there?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Well, were you always a bandit?”

  “No.”

  “Where did you learn to cook?” she pressed.

  “My father taught me.”

  “Did he teach you to fight as well?”

  “I taught myself,” he offered no more information.

  “How old are you then?” she pestered.

  “Sixteen,” he said.

  “Sixteen?” she echoed in bewilderment, “That would make you younger than I am.” He was tall and broad shouldered, with a strong, weathered voice. Yet he was hardly a man.

  “It’s not as you think,” he answered grimly.

  Whatever that meant concerned Nephis, but he would speaking nothing else of it nor any other thing. The question had shut him up like a trap. And so they walked in silence for a long while.

  Eventually, as the sky began to fill with greying clouds, Nephis could spot a village far on the horizon. When she asked if they could stay there for the night, Kugo huffed, but did not deny her and led them to it. The farms around the town were fallow. And the village, silent.

  And as they approached, it became clear to her that it was long since abandoned. The road was uneven and stuffed with weeds. The thatch roofs were crumpled and weathered. Doors swung open with the softest breeze. Yet, there were no ravens to be seen. Rotting carts remained overturned, and furnaces were stuffed with half-burned wood. A great many homes were piles of blackened wood and ash. And against one wall was a splattering of blood, long darkened by time.

  “What happened here?” Nephis recoiled. They were deep in the heart of Radina, where marauders from the North or South could never make it.

  “This is the work of orcs,” Kugo said in a hoarse voice. “They came from the Ceroil woods.”

  “Do you – did you know this place?” Nephis asked.

  Kugo shook his head. “This is just what they are. Picking at small villages in the soft belly of the emperor.”

  Orcs were horrid creatures. Beings of lust and violence. They knew not love or mercy, only war.

  Nephis stayed silent. She knew of course that orcs were a threat to the people of Radina. But they struck so wildly and sparingly that it had become easy to dismiss, especially so far away.

  Kugo continued to look for a place for them to rest. He tested the beams and walls of houses, which had all long been looted, and often crumbled or cracked at a touch. But at long last, he found one. A sturdy home made from good stone, its tall, thatch roof hung overhead, offering a little shade to those at the door. And hanging from the frame was a silver coil bound in red and white thread, a solichor, a charm to ward evil and bring good fortune. But as Kugo was about to try the door, they all heard something, muttering down the road. And he followed.

  A group of young, filthy-looking men huddled around an old church. The stone chapel had no windows, but only two great wooden doors, locked from within.

  “Why don’t we just bust it down?” one of them complained.

  “The doors are too thick,” one answered as he tried his luck at the lock.

  Kugo stood perfectly still. His breathing slowed, and he began to pull his sword from its scabbard. And then click. “Aha! I think I’ve got it!” the thief exclaimed, “What could be inside?” he sang. Kugo flung his sword, it spun wildly in the air, nicking the lockpick across his nose and bouncing off the stone wall. As they turned to see their assailant, Nephis recognized them, the same bandits who had gotten them into this mess. She tugged at her loose bindings until she could wriggle free. Seeing the same demon who had cut their number in half, the bandits all began to scramble away, hollering in terror. But before Kugo could charge in, Nephis leapt forward and Moss followed after, snapping his bindings like dried grass.

  She rushed close and then chanted a spell.

  And from Heaven came the first flame. And from the flame came ovens and man.

  She pressed her hands like wings before her mouth and blew like a bellows, and a fan of flame spread out before her and over the bandits. They shrieked in pain and agony, the faces of those caught in its wake burned and raw, their skin peeling, and their noses blackened. Just as soon, Moss barreled in and threw his great fist forward into one of the bandits, who crumpled to the earth, his jaw and skull cratered. And as the bandits began to flee, something almost seemed to overtake Moss. He reached out his hand in an old, comfortable motion, and white roots began to sprout from the earth. Small tendrils snaked their way out and caught the thieves, tangling around their legs and tripping them. And he bounded towards them in cold and unfeeling bloodlust, crushing each of them until they were still.

  Nephis and Kugo stared in horror at Moss. And as he stepped out of the mud, he looked at Nephis expectantly, waiting for a word. “I crushed them,” he said.

  “That you did,” Nephis stammered. And then her eyes were drawn to the vines. “How did you do that?” she asked, “Have you always been able to?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  Nephis was dumbfounded. He had spoken no words or spell. Nothing around him was drained of life; he was no wizard, and he could not have been a sorcerer, for he was not a human. He was made of wood. And as she examined him, looking again for signs of runes or etchings, Kugo grabbed her wrist and began once again to bind her arms, this time terribly tight.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Are you going to kill me?” he rebutted.

  Nephis stayed silent. He knew as well as her that she did not know the way forward, nor how to survive on her own.

  “What about you?” he asked Moss.

  Moss offered his hands to him, “Kugo kept his promise,” he told Nephis.

  Nephis murmured something under her breath, but did not respond.

  Once the two of them were bound again, Moss very loosely this time, Kugo began to pull the dead from the church and then to pick through their belongings. Nephis was at first disgusted, until he pulled two familiar purses and a velvet satchel from them. “Hey! Those are mine!” she protested.

  “Is that right?” he mocked as he looked inside, nearly dropping the first bag. He stared in stunned silence before picking a ring from the bag and gazing at it in the sunlight.

  “See?” she demanded, “That’s mine. Do you believe me now?”

  “I do,” he admitted.

  “So why don’t we let this whole thing go. If you take me, in one piece and in proper respect, to the nearest lord, I will ensure you are well compensated,” she said with a smirk.

  “No,” he said gruffly. “You’ll tell them what I did, and they’ll have my head. You can make that arrangement when you’re in a slaver’s cage and I’m well out of the city. Here, I’ll even leave with this for proof,” explained and slipped her signet ring back onto the proper finger. He tossed the rest of the coin into his bag.

  “What?” she exclaimed again, “At least let me free outside the city if you’re going to take my money. And that other bag is the king’s money.”

  “I’ll need all the time I can get to leave. A guard on a horse is faster than I’ll ever be. And besides, I’ll never be able to spend gold easily or get it exchanged for, I need money now,” he said, and seeing her confusion, he clarified, “No one will take gold from a man in a mask. Those people like to know who they’re dealing with.”

  “Then take off your mask!” she demanded.

  “I can’t do that,” he replied somberly. When she began to protest again, he simply raised his hand to her.

  Kugo pulled each of the bandits away, and finding a shovel in the ruins, dug them a shallow grave. The grey clouds grew thicker, and the sky was filled with the rumble of thunder. But he continued to dig until each of them was buried. He muttered some words over them.

  Kugo then stepped over to the lock picks, which were still strewn in the dirt. And he stared at them for a while in silence, before taking them and, with trembling hands, he began to re-lock the doors of the church. He held them at their very end, his hands never once touching the great wooden doors.

  And then it began to rain.