Chapter Three

  The Raven of the Abbot.

  The three of them huddled in the house that Kugo had chosen. The rain poured from the sky, its roar so loud that Nephis could hardly hear her own voice. Thunder pealed through the air, rattling the doors and windows in their frames. And though they were dry, the storm had brought the cold along, which seeped into the old, stone home.

  Nephis sat in a bundle of old, thin blankets, watching as Kugo paced across the room. His mind was far from them. He had not been the same since the business with the brigands. But she did not dare say a thing. And so the hours passed. And the fair lady slipped into the mire of sleep to the constant drumming of the rain. Nephis awoke to the sounds of Kugo cursing. The water had risen so that a small stream ran through the muddy street, right up to his ankles. He ran up to her, shaking her by her shoulders until she looked at him, bug-eyed. “We have to go,” he demanded, and untied her wrists. The reason was clear – a flood was coming. They would need to make their way up to the highest hills. And so Nephis hitched her skirt and waded into the rising water.

  Kugo did not take the most direct way, instead wrapping around to the church, where he stopped and began to pace once again. Before Nephis dare prod him, he frantically pulled out the lock picks and began to crack his way in. But he dare not touch the door. And as the water rose a little more, the door was unlocked, but he did not open it.

  “Nephis,” he said, “Check to see if the sacred vessels are still inside.”

  “I’m not looting a church!” she gasped.

  “No! I just need to know if they are still there,” he snapped, “I need to know if they are alright.”

  And so with caution, she pushed open the heavy doors. The church was simple. Rows of sturdy pews led to an altar, whereon sat a golden chalice and a silver ciborium, still waiting. The walls were bare, but the ceiling, though strewn with cob webs, bore the visage of the God of all men, gathering the stars in His arms, His eyes watching all who entered. “They’re here!” Nephis shouted back, “Can we go now?”

  “Grab them!” Kugo shouted back. And when Nephis stared incredulously at him, he tossed a bag and said, “We will bring them back!”

  Swallowing her fear and hesitation, Nephis tiptoed into the sanctuary and gently lay the holy treasure into a rough, burlap sack. And not daring to look into the painted eyes of God, she rushed back to the town, water pouring into the church all the while. Kugo slammed the doors shut and took the bag from her, looking inside and silently staring for a while. And then they left.

  Though the water was hardly more than a few inches high, it was powerful, nearly sweeping Nephis off her feet until at last she demanded that Moss carry her. Kugo trudged through the water, grabbing hold of anything he could, doors and posts and roots. But as they waded through the flood, trying desperately to make their way up, an errant branch sailing in the waters snagged the treasures from his grasp. He leapt for it, stretching as far as he might without falling. Nephis looked down river and saw a great wooden beam rushing towards the. She braced herself against Moss, but before she could cry out, it crashed into their sides. Moss stumbled and Nephis nearly fell, but the great limb cracked Kugo in the back of his skull, and he fell.

  Nephis stared in shock. There lay her kidnapper, unmoving yet alive, the water slipping beneath his mask and pulling him along. Should she leave him, she would be free. But as he began to slip away, Nephis clenched her fist and shut her eyes, yelling, “Moss, grab Kugo!”

  Moss reached a mighty arm down and pulled him from the waters, the holy vessels slipping into the stream. And, a helpless fool on each shoulder, he began to wade through the water. Each step was a struggle, as the flood threatened to rip him from the earth. But he did not slip. Moss pressed against the tide, he struggled upwards until he came to the side of a high hill, where the water spilled, but did not stay. He grabbed hold of it and pulled them around until he could walk. They lay Kugo on top of the grassy hill and waited out the storm.

  The rain kept on for hours, only growing more intense with time. And soon a river passed through the village, carrying the ruined remains of town and life with it. Whole homes, cracked and damaged, were torn apart and swept away in the flood’s wrath. A parade of roofs and stalls passed them by, sent away down into the vales and wounds of the hills. But eventually, by prayer or nature, the rain stopped.

  Nephis kept her ear to Kugo’s mouth, and from his mask came faint but steady breathing. He would live. And then, curiosity struck the girl. She gently tapped the side of his head, and when he did not awake, a smug grin spread across her face. How dare he keep himself secret from her, she wondered, and slipped off his frightful mask. But as she looked down upon him, her face fell, and a quiet sorrow swept over her heart.

  His face was a bluing-grey and set with the age of a grown man. His nose was narrow, but broken, and his ears dagger-like. Two tusks jutted from his lower jaw. He was a half-orc. Nephis quietly slipped the mask back over his face.

  Orcs do not live long lives, and their bastard child live even shorter ones. They were rare and never lived among men. The oldest of them, should they not die fighting their human cousins or orc fathers, lived into their fifties. And few men knew what a proper orc looked like, often mistaking the halflings for their parents. Almost no one refrained from cutting them down at first sight. And so by their half-blood, they were cursed with half-lives.

  With great difficulty, Nephis built a fire. It was pitiful, hardly the hearty blaze Kugo had made the night before. It smoldered with damp branches and tight packed logs, wavering against any breeze that passed it. Even still, she laid her outer clothes by it, hoping they might dry. She hunched over the poor thing, her toes biting embers, as she shivered in her chemise like a wet dog for an hour or more.

  Kugo awoke with a splitting headache, snapping up in a panic, only to see the town floating by. He patted around him, and not seeing the burlap sack and shouted. “Where are the vessels?” Nephis and Moss were hunched over a pitiful fire, both quiet and glum.

  “I’m sorry,” she meekly said. “You got hit by a beam.”

  “They floated away,” Moss clarified.

  Kugo lay his face in his hands and sighed. “Well, we can look for them once the water clears,” he surrendered.

  “Mhm,” Nephis mumbled, not even looking at him.

  Kugo had expected the brat to whine and nag, it wouldn’t be easy and she knew that. And yet, the boastful princess seemed shy and almost ashamed. She would not even look him in the eyes as she always had. But seeing cowl hanging out in the open, he was sure of what had happened.

  Kugo slipped off his mask and looked at the girl, a grumpy look on his face. “This is what I am,” he said, baring himself to someone else for the first in a very long time.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said plainly, “I’m fine.”

  She did not say anything, and still averted her gaze.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. His eyes were a sharp blue. And she met his gaze, though did not say a word.

  “Well, go on, say something vain and irritable!” he chastised her, “Or scream and run! Don’t just mope.”

  “I’m not frightened of you,” she stammered after a while, still locking eyes with him. Hers were a ruddy brown.

  Kugo gave up with an exasperated sigh. Instead, he turned his attention to the fire. “Look at this, terrible.” And he began to put it all back in place, rearranging the logs and digging out a spare from his bag.

  “Your mother must have been a very kind woman,” Nephis said, “For keeping you.” Half-orcs did not have happy starts.

  “I wouldn’t know. I was left on the steps of a monastery,” he answered, “But yes, she must have been.”

  “You are a man of the cloth, then?” Nephis asked, a bit surprised, “A monk?”

  “No,” Kugo snapped, “I haven’t been for a long time.”

  “Oh,” Nephis said, but her eyes flicked back to his expectantly.

  But Kugo only looked forward.

  “Did you do something?” she pressed.

  “No. Someone burned down my home,” he answered sternly, gazing into the roaring fire. “I was out collecting wood. I only saw him for a moment before he disappeared. None of my brothers or fathers survived. I am going to find that man, and when I do, I am going to kill him. That is why I cannot be called brother anymore,” he finished bitterly.

  And they watched as the sun set on a flooded town.

  When the morning had come and the waters receded, they set out into the valleys to find the sacred treasures of this little town. Their clothes left to dry in the wind, they trawled in their under-things through the wet, grassy hills. Moss hauled beam and stone out of the valleys while Kugo and Nephis picked through the trash. They toiled for hours, walking miles and breaking their backs as they sought. Their hands buried in the muck and their knees sunk in mud, they would not rest until the gold and silver were found. And at last, Kugo reached his arm deep in the debris, pulling from the wooden nest a burlap sack. He was washed with relief as he looked into the bag to find the pair safe, without even a speckle of mud defacing them.

  Once they were all washed, Kugo took them to the doors of the church. He handed Nephis the bag again. “Set them back where they belong, please,” he sunkenly asked. And when he would hear nothing to the contrary, Nephis gingerly stepped back into the church, still pooling with water, but all in one piece. Carefully, she set the chalice and cup back onto the altar before quickly bowing and slipping away. Kugo stared sadly at the far altar.

  Atop the hill, they prepared a hearty meal. Kugo filled the pot with everything it could muster. There would be little left for tomorrow, but he assured them that the next village was not too far and he could always hunt and trap as needed. He was quite familiar with this life, after all. Once their bellies were full and their clothes dry, they all sat ready to step out before Nephis stopped them all.

  “Kugo of Ordo,” she announced.

  He turned to her, a quizzical look etched on his face.

  Nephis filled her chest and held her head high. “I am Nephis Flores, thirteenth of my father’s line! Should you follow me and become my retainer, I promise you will never worry for coin or hunger again!”

  Kugo began to laugh, a good and hearty laugh, “Is that right?” he asked.

  “It is!” And Nephis began to dig through his bag, tossing him her own coin purse. “There you are, your first pay.”

  Kugo caught the bag.

  Nephis stepped forward with her arm outstretched, “What will it be?” she asked.

  He took her hand and shook it. “Alright. Where to, Nephis?”

  “Why, to Remare, as I recall, you promised to get me there safely,” she said in a smug voice.

  They walked over hill and vale until at last they found the road. Remare was a long way off, it was a port town at the edge of the country. Throughout the way, Nephis would have to make many stops and give many accolades and messages to crown-faithful. And then she was to return home and deal with Father, as well as this whole marriage business, but that was for another time. For now, Nephis was content with finding a proper town to take a proper rest in.

  Free of all danger, Kugo began to look through all the things he had collected from the bandits. Most everything was dull and in poor condition. What armor they had was scrappy, their daggers were almost blunt, and even their shoes were thin. The princess must have seemed a divine blessing to them. What luck for them to have stumbled across the one woman foolish enough to waltz around unguarded, with a fortune in her sleeve. Kugo began to closely inspect everything he had found from them. And among the scraps was a letter, it was short but written in fine script and on good paper.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I have a problem I need taken care of. There is a girl headed along the road from Elemeer to Borsa. She wears a red coat and is accompanied by a wooden creature. I assure you, the creature is harmless and well mannered. But beware of the girl, she is a sorceress. She carries with her your pay. Whatever you find on her, you may keep. But she must not be allowed to continue. For this, I require your expertise.

  Kugo had his doubts about Moss being harmless, but the rest was more than alarming. The letter bore no name or mark. Worse still. When Kugo read it aloud, Nephis did not once flinch. “Oh, I suspect that was Primar Minhae.” When he pressed her on it, she explained that, of course she was bothered by it, but her father would take care of the matter once she returned. Besides, the bandits were dealt with. Let the primar stew in his anxiety. Begrudgingly, Kugo followed along.

  Inspired, Nephis took to inspecting what remained of her things. Her few personal effects, a comb, a fork, and a small chisel were unperturbed, but rather it was the velvet bag of messages that had been tampered with. Some of the seals on the scrolls had been broken, and stranger still, one had small droplets of cheap, black ink along their corners. None of them contained anything truly secret, no Nephis would not have been trusted with anything like that. It was all flattery and appeasement. But no matter, she thought, they were all dead now.

  After a long while of walking, of aching feet and steep hills, they made it to a small border town along the main road. Nephis arranged them some rooms with Kugo’s money, and he hardly thought a thing about it. So desperate was he for proper rest that he collapsed while the sun was still high. Better yet, it was in a bed. How long it had been since he last slept in a real bed. Months, doubtless. Money had always been tight, and compared to patched-up shoes or a scrap of information, a bed seemed like a frivolous waste. Kugo was concerned about the scrolls and the dots of ink, he was doubtful that any of them were just practicing their letters. But Nephis did not seem to be bothered by the whole ordeal, and the night called to him like a siren. And his thoughts were all in a mire, like echoes of echoes. So he drifted to sleep.

  Nephis did not live quietly. She gave a gold coin for the room and board. A gold coin for three baths. And a gold coin for a ride to the next town. For an hour as they rode out of the village and into the hills, a crowd of merchants followed them – desperate to sell their wares to Nephis for a gold coin. If Nephis were to keep this up, they would be plumb out of money in a week. And so, as they entered through the high stone gates of Hushi-on-the-Water, he assigned her an allowance.

  “One golden solis,” he said, and nearly handed her the coin until he came to a horrible realization, “No,” and he began to dig through the bag of tax money, the ‘king’s money,’ until he found an assortment of coins that nearly came to the amount.

  “You can’t do that!” she protested, “I already accounted for each coin in there!”

  “I’ve added a little more, so no one should be sorry,” Kugo ignored her concerns and handed her a small pouch with what should have been enough money to last an ordinary person six months. He hoped it would last her one.

  Nephis grumbled and whined as she looked at the pitiful sum. “Besides, Kugo, I can always take a loan from the local lord; it is an honor to be the king’s debtor!”

  Kugo could hardly believe his ears. “As I recall, this is my money. Am I now a debtor to the king?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she sagely nodded.

  “Well, how about the king’s daughter pay me back before I loan her any more?” he said.

  Nephis could only grimace.

  Hushi was an imposing city, built of stone and brick. Her walls were high and mighty, crafted from the white stone of the ancient people. And her streets were narrow and full of every sort of place. When the wind pressed through the plains, it pressed through the city like air to lungs. And though it was walled, it was an expansive city, the very river ran through it, spreading into lush gardens. Her towers were tall, and her roofs steepled in red clay. So high were her towers and homes that unless one craned their neck to the sky, they could only assume they were in a great labyrinth.

  Even here, Moss drew attention, but with Kugo appearing so frightful in his scowling mask and ragged clothes, no one dare approach. This greatly pleased Nephis, who paraded them around like it was her triumph. So prideful and so satisfied was her grin that Kugo briefly came to regret his choice in employer. And once the march was over, and the people of the town were well acquainted with the trio, Nephis was struck by an idea.

  She drug Kugo from shop to shop, demanding to buy him a set of clothes. A blue vest and pants, the same color as Moss’. He denied her each time. But so persistent was the princess that her retinue was in harmony, he eventually compromised. She would purchase him a brooch, the same color as Moss’ hat and coat, and he would wear that. She hemmed and hawed over each piece the jeweler showed her. He was a thin fellow, with a full and white beard, and was obviously shaken by the great beast Moss that lurked in his workshop. But at last, he gave Nephis a piece that she took to. She handed the craftsman a handful of coins, Kugo could not see how many, but by the sound of the coins falling, it was a fair few. Nephis scurried over to Kugo and presented him with his mark. It was of a blue raven bound by a copper daisy. It was beautiful, but did not suit the monk in the slightest. He pinned it to the inside of his shirt. Hearing Nephis’ protesting and defeated cries brought a small smile to his face.

  But Nephis was not done. She had found them a place to stay for the evening and insisted that she treat them to a fine dinner. “The first of many, so fully embrace it while you are not yet accustomed,” she promised and advised. And indeed it was a fine inn, three stories tall and built of polished limestone. It was nearly a manor. And when Kugo suggested that they stay at the house of the primar or a lord, as she had often bragged, she instead suggested that it would be too rude to drop in now, especially with such strange guests.

  The dinner was indeed fine. No simple food would be found here. A roast duck beset with cranberries and stuffed with sage and mace and mustard, bread as white as sugar, cheese of every type, pears and sweet apples, cakes of honey, and wine as red and strong as blood. They had a small room to their selves with the servants remaining outside. And what was more, they had silver forks, each their own.

  “Now, Kugo and Moss, watch me,” she instructed as she deftly stung a slice of pear with her silver prongs. “I know you may be unused to this fashion of eating, but with time you will-”

  Kugo prodded a bit of duck and brought it to his mouth. The fork felt a bit indulgent.

  But Nephis shut up and sulked, her scheme so quickly toppled. “Well, here, have some more wine, Moss.” And she poured him another glass.

  “So Moss,” Kugo asked, “Do you need to eat?” He had been curious about the golem from the moment he saw him, but the idea of him eating and drinking more than water was strange.

  “I do not,” he answered as he munched on an apple.

  “Do you enjoy it?” Kugo asked.

  Moss stared off in the distance for a while, his sapphire eyes caught on a serving of hard cheese. And then he shrugged and drank some more wine. He was terribly deft with his claws.

  “Well, how do you know you don’t need to eat?” Kugo pressed for more.

  “I had never eaten until I was Nephis’ retainer,” Moss answered.

  “Well, what did you do the whole while?” Kugo asked, thoroughly invested.

  “I walked,” he answered. And at the same time, Nephis echoed, “He walked,” as she took a bite of bread.

  “Well, what did you do before that?” Kugo asked as he leaned into the great golem.

  “I don’t remember,” Moss answered after a while, chewing on duck bones, cracking them in his strange mouth.

  Kugo sat puzzled for a while before he pressed again, “How old are you, Moss?”

  Moss thought for a moment, “I’m old.”

  “How many years old are you?” Kugo clarified.

  “Years?” Moss was confused, unsure of what a year even was.

  “How many winters have you seen?” Kugo tried.

  “Six,” Moss answered.

  Kugo was taken aback, but Nephis flew into a panic.

  “Six! I fed him wine,” she muttered, “I fed him plates!”

  “Nephis, I think he’s fine,” Kugo assured her.

  “But I gave him so much, that can’t be alright!” she exclaimed as Moss tipped the plate of fine cheeses down his throat. But when Moss reached for the wine again, Nephis leapt over the table, trying in vain to pry it from his grasp as he poured the last drops into his mouth.

  Kugo spent the rest of the evening assuring her once and once more that she had done nothing wrong and again and again that Moss could certainly handle himself. He repeated it all so many times, he thought his tongue would fall from him. He was only granted his freedom in the evening when Nephis arranged for rooms. Though even this was stalled by Nephis’ grandeur in paying for all their rooms with a great pile of silver, and even leaving the clerk and the two servants a generous tip.

  Moss and Kugo were to share a room set aside for servants of traveling merchants or minor nobility. Kugo shuffled into the room, drained of all life and will. The room was plain, but serviceable. There was a large bed for the servants to share and a trunk for them to put their few things. Once the door was blocked with a chair, Kugo removed his armor and mask, slouching on the edge of the bed next to Moss.

  “Do you think they’re all like that?” Kugo asked.

  “Who?” said Moss.

  “Women.”

  “What’s a women?” Moss asked.

  Kugo surrendered and went to bed.

  Nephis sat on a cushioned chair, facing a small writing desk. Her hands were clasped in prayer, and she thanked God for preserving her life in the past few days, and asked for continual protection and blessing for each of them, before finishing her prayer, “I have tried to impress my new friends, to welcome them with hospitality. And, as You know, I have spent all the money allotted to me by Kugo. So I pray for continued provision, whether by Kugo or by more mysterious means. Amen.” And finishing that, she washed her face and went to bed, embraced by silk and down feathers.

  Kugo rose early. More precisely, he was awoken by the great vastness of Moss and could not return to slumber. And so, as soon as Nephis was a moment late, he marched to her door to ‘beckon her’ as a servant should. And she spent a good while preparing for the morning, brushing her hair and examining that it was still of an acceptable length, prying any growth from her arms, and humming until her voice was warm. After an hour, she greeted the weary Kugo. And what was the worry? She asked.

  “We have no business in the city. Why not take the day and rest?” Nephis suggested.

  Kugo had started to grow cautious of what Nephis meant by rest, but it had been a long and hard few days. “Alright,” he said, “But we are going to actually rest. None of these shopping sprees or grand parties.”

  “Of course,” Nephis promised.

  But as they set out, slowly Kugo felt a creeping cold make its way up his neck. The people watched them with bulging eyes and needled gaze. He was used to this. But something was off. The shadows were deeper and the crowds deeper than he recalled. And in those shadows was some palid figure, some creeping night and chill. Kugo could not shake the feeling that they were being watched closely. There was a deep sickness that followed them, something more than curiosity. It was the stalking feeling that the beasts of the forest gave, hunger.

  Nephis wound them to every shop imaginable and would at times expound on a historical note or two on the city. Hushi-on-the-Water, for example, had been founded by a mystic-hermit who determined to live alone on a stone pillar as a sign of his faith against the pagans; but instead of the life of solitude he desired, he attracted a following and the city was built around him, and they kept the desire to live very high up as well. Her lecture continued for a while. It was important for a noble to know the great cities of her empire, even if she had no right to the throne, her tutors still thought it right to teach her well.

  But Kugo was hardly listening. His eyes were peeled on the crowd, on every shadow and in every alley. There was someone there, he could tell as much, but for all his life, he could not point them out. His instincts were nearly for naught. There lurked in the crowd a quiet thing, a clever and vicious minded thing that did not want to be seen.

  He was shaken from his watch by Nephis. She grabbed his sleeve and pointed into a window where was displayed an ivory comb, painted with vibrant reds and greens. “Kugo,” she pleaded, “May I have another allowance?” She bat her long lashes at him.

  “What?” he roared, “No. I gave you enough for what a family spends in months. Did you spend it all??”

  “Well, Kugo,” she began to explain, “I did not grow my own food in that time, so I had to purchase it, as well as your portion. And your uniform, well, you didn’t want one,” she tried to list off her excuses.

  “No,” Kugo answered plainly. “You’ll get another allowance in some months' time.”

  “Months!” she exclaimed, “Kugo, I’m going to starve!”

  They bickered for a while, and the worry slipped from his mind. And he found himself enjoying the company and the cool afternoon. The city was a beautiful one, with winding stairs that led to grand overlooks where one could watch the people hustle and in the distance, one could even spy the great Western river, guided briefly through the canals.

  “You know, Kugo,” Nephis began again, “My grandfather conquered this region, Luis the Terror of the West was only Luis the Young when he laid siege to Hushi. Three years they pounded on the gates of the city, for three years they bombarded the walls, and they would not fall, for three years the people of Hushi fought back and slowly depleted their supplies. But eventually he grew impatient and clever, and for days he dumped every sort of waste and poison he could find into that very river,” she pointed to the canal that snaked through the edge of the city. So foul was the water that it is said it caught ablaze as it flowed. And so, the defenders weakened, and the city was won! These days, the river is clean again, and I hear that where it branches, it feeds into a most beautiful garden.”

  Kugo was struck by an idea. “Why don’t we go visit the garden?” he suggested.

  “Oh? Finally enjoying yourself?” she asked smugly, “Or did my tale of valor inspire your boyish spirit?”

  He ignored her. The unnerving shadow still followed Kugo. But as he could not pick them from the crowd, perhaps secluding themselves might reveal the hunter. As they walked, he kept his eyes peeled for any familiar face, for anyone who remained. But as they followed the great river and passed the mighty vessels on their way to port and market, there was no one. It was as if a ghost clung to his heart. As they headed north and passed the high streets, the crowds thinned and the tall, suffocating city walls grew more docile. There was once again the hint of green life. And along the thin branching of the river was good soil and good stewardship.

  A garden of flowering trees of ivory and garnet lay gently in the stone arms of Hushi. A small pocket surrounded by the tall walls and towers lay preserved for the rest of the people. Soft grass and flowing water hid the noise and bustle of what surrounded them, leaving a soft, tranquil quiet. Roses and marigolds were dutifully raised, while wildflowers dotted the greenery like flecks of paint. Strong herbs also thrived, so that whenever a strong wind blew, it carried with it their pleasant, sweet scent. Of sweet rose and healing sage.

  Passing over a stream, there was a long and covered bridge, where one might watch the passing lilies trickling water. Nephis led the trio over to watch the city anew. But the strange feeling had not yet left Kugo, no it had only grown stronger and more vicious. He kept his hand in his cloak, where a blade was sequestered. And yet there was no one. They were alone. Completely alone. In this city of thousands, no one had come, despite the whole city being free to it. Ice ran through Kugo’s veins, and as he looked up, like a mist, there had appeared a man in a ragged cloak, blocking the end of the bridge.