“Beware of the stranger” began the old proverb. Jai forgot where he first heard it. He struggled to recall who spoke those wise words. What he could not blot out of his memory were the words that followed. “Deceit poisons his cup offered in friendship. Wicked shadows haunt his kind grin. A sharp cudgel of malevolence lies hidden in his heart.” Since taking up his spear and setting out on the road of adventure with Eislyn, he used this proverb as the basis for all his interactions with any wayward travelers, no matter how innocent they might appear.
It had been more than two weeks since they took upon themselves their newest task and the trail was just as cold as it when they began. The only fresh footprints were their own. Jai wanted to give up. There was no point continuing if all their efforts would end as fruitless as a dried-up apple tree in a windy desert. He held his tongue for as long as he could. Each day, she woke up with a wide smile on her face, ready to face the day ahead with renewed vigor. It was a striking difference from the husk he remembered from three years ago. A chill ran up his spine as the image of a young woman sitting beside a river. Her eyes were blank. Weakness possessed her body, robbing her of the will to live. She was cold as the grave.
Whenever that cursed memory bubbled to the surface of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to end their hunt. I can’t damper her spirits just yet, he resolved, but pointless games had to come to an end. He struggled to find the right words. This would be the third within the last few months. Can she handle the disappointment? With the days rolling on, he watched his companion, waiting for the slightest sign of hopelessness.
Their search ended when they found a road. For the longest time, neither said a word, but they didn’t have to explain that their efforts were wasted. Whoever they were after was long gone at this point. Countless souls crossed the many winding roads of the empire. It was the perfect hiding place for a wanted man. His tracks vanished into the thousands that came before and the thousands that would follow. Even if they knew whether to go left or right, they might never catch up to him. There were any number of places where he could hide. He could hole up in some cathouse in any town and they’d never find him.
“Guess that settles it,” Eislyn said with a heavy sigh.
“Are you okay with that?” Jai answered. He refused to look at her yet. The pain in her voice was more than he could bear.
Taking a deep breath, she chuckled a bitter laugh. “Looks like I have to be.” Silence overcame them again as they accepted that their task was a failure. Out of the corner of his eye, Jai watched her disappointment fade away into a resigned contentment. Life was full of wins and losses. It was foolish to lament every defeat and hope that only victories await on the horizon. However, it was a difficult lesson to learn.
“Where to now?” he asked, knowing it was the only way to brighten their moods.
At once, a toothy grin flashed in his direction. Reaching into her pouch, she produced a long string. The twine ran through a sharp rock. The Guiding Stone. That’s what she called it. If Eislyn could be believed, it was an ancient talisman passed down through her family for countless generations. Her simple name for this old tool didn’t inspire confidence in her story.
Grasping the pointed stone in her grip, she prayed, “Oh stone of guidance. Show us the path towards our greater destiny.” Holding the end of the string, she released the stone. Tethered to her fingers, the stone swung and spun around until it came to a stop. “That way,” she declared, pointing to the left. Jai didn’t bother considering following a rock’s directions as ludicrous. It was not the most ridiculous thing he had done in his life.
Returning to a clear path lifted Jai’s spirits. It was hard for him to explain, but when they wandered in the uncharted wilderness, he often found himself wondering if there was any point to their endeavors. A clear path alleviated those worries, even if their destination wasn’t obvious. The fact that they weren’t the only ones who traveled the road brought him some comfort.
When they woke up on the third day since first taking the road, Eislyn asked, “Jai. Who is your favorite hero?”
Raising his eyebrows at the random question, he asked, “Haven’t I told you before?” He was certain in all their years together the conversation came up once before. She shrugged, having to readjust her pack. As she walked, her spear jostled back and forth, as if it were pointing at the various clouds overhead. “Let me think,” he pondered aloud.
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Every boy grew up with a hero. The Seanchai saw to that. Those vagabond storytellers filled boys and girls with fairytales of larger-than-life men and women who were goddesses made flesh. Children idolized these legendary mortals, spending their whimsical days acting out the adventures. During his boyhood, he had his own heroes, but only one stood out above the rest.
“I’d say the Hound of Ulster,” he answered. Whenever a seanchai passed through their village, he begged for any stories concerning the fabled lancer. Even now, Jai was certain he knew every tale in which the character appeared.
“The great guard dog, eh?” she mused, a faint smile on her lips. “Doesn’t he die?”
“He’s a hero. They all die at some time.”
“I know that, but not all of them die tied to a rock, countless slain enemies at their feet.” For most, the hound’s famous last stand was the only story they knew. Jai tried recalling which tale he heard first. Was it the hero’s life or death that ensnared his young heart? He wasn’t sure.
On the eighth evening since finding the road, they came across a stranger. He sat in the midst of a small makeshift camp. Disheveled was the best way to describe his appearance. A serving woman knelt by the fire, cooking a prairie hare. She wore a tattered blue dress, darkened brown by dirt. Her raven hair covered most of her face. The man held a tin cup. He released a guttural order. At once, she stood and retrieved a pitcher. They traveled light, only one pack between them. An odd pair to find in the middle of nowhere. Remembering his proverb concerning strangers, Jai began to move to the other side of the road, but before he had the chance to wave his companion toward him, she was already approaching the stranger.
“May the god of fate smile on you,” Eislyn called in greeting. She ignored the wise words of yesteryear. At the sound of her voice, the woman dropped the pitcher, turning in a hurry. Her raven hair swayed, revealing a dark, swollen eye. One fair cheek was yellowed from an old bruise. Her lower lip was split wide. The man caught her by the sleeve, jerking her back toward him. He yelled something, but his words were slurred. The woman raised her hands up in a pitiful attempt at self-defense.
“Oh my, Jai,” Eislyn called over her shoulder. “Looks like we walked in on a lover’s spat.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” the stranger barked.
At this, Jai took a step forward. His hand began to reach toward the spear. Eislyn stopped him. “Don’t worry,” she called ahead. “He’s nothing to worry about yet. Underneath his gruff exterior beats a gentle, god-fearing heart. I know he’ll have no issue sharing his fire with us.”
“Don’t remember asking for company.” His hand snatched the serving woman’s arm tight. She muffled a cry. “Besides, I doubt she’d make anything you’d like.”
Jai doubted a man of his stature could afford a servant. Perhaps he managed to find an indebted woman for cheap. Worse, she owed him personally. At that point, she should lament her foolishness.
Eislyn paused at the edge of their camp. “Tell me,” she asked. “Do you have a wife?”
Belching, the man said, “Once, not that it’s any of your business. The harpy left long ago.” He jerked the serving woman to her knees. “If it wasn’t for her, I’d be alone in the world.”
“What is your name?”
“I’m...”
Eislyn’s voice became sharp. “I was talking to her, dullard.”
At that, the man’s face turned stony. “Just who do you think you are?” His hand tightened on the serving woman’s arm. She cried out in pain. Roaring in frustration, he slapped her. “Silence, wench.” Turning his attention back to Eislyn, he spat, “The last woman who spoke to me that way ended up with a knife buried in her throat.”
Jai felt himself take a step forward, but he forced his feet to go no further. If she needed him, she’d say so. Sighing, Eislyn shook her head. “Boy, you’re a special kind of brute. I don’t have any particular interest in brutes. They have this unique griminess to them that few exhibits. Maybe some of it would go away if you’d treat your help better.”
Using his free hand, he drew a small knife. His arm trembled. It was always clear when a man lacked the talent to back up his boasts. “Woman, I don’t care what you think about me. Nor would I listen to any of your braying. Now, why don’t you go get lost in a field of cacti?”
Eislyn squatted down where she could look the sorry excuse for a man in the eye. “Let me explain what you’re about to do,” she said in a level, matter-of-fact tone. “You’re going to let the girl go. I don’t care what her debts are. As of today, they are paid in full.”
Not realizing the danger he was in, the man spat, “And if I don’t? What if I tell you to stick that spear through your ear and raise yourself up like a flag?"
Eislyn cocked her head to one side. “I’ll stop being nice and let him,” she gestured to Jai, “do what he’s best at.”
“And that is?”
Jai drew his spear, marching toward the man. The blue metal glimmered in the light. All warmth had vanished from his face. His eyes were clear as glass. There was no emotion in his actions. Nothing he did was out of personal grievance. What he did was what any hero would do. Save the wounded from those that wrought their harm. As he approached, a single word left his lips. “Killing.”