Gara had intruded into the walled recesses of Meta-Rikan before without proper invite. Over the walls outside the town with none the wiser. Under the bridge and up the wall with all the dexterity of a spider and he was within the boundaries of the castle itself. One day, he thought, he would teach them a thing or two about security. But, on occasion their lack of it was useful.
Something was most definitely up. He had seen legions marching northward towards Judas on his way in. Though there was little sign of a foreign presence within the boundaries of the city itself. If these pirate kings had brought men with them, they were well cloistered behind the doors of the palace. He walked along the darkened pathways of the cathedral garden, a cloak wrapped about his person, his great blade shifted down to his hip to obscure its presence. He might have been anyone on their way for late night confession. None of the few folk he encountered gave him a second glance.
Into the dormitory and down the hall. He counted the doors until he reached the one he remembered as Yoko's. He pushed down the reflexive urge to pick the lock, if she even locked it, and slip in secretly. He respected her privacy enough to rap and give her notice of his visit. No answer. She was asleep then. He rapped again, louder and listened for sound of movement. For the soft breath of a sleeper. And heard nothing. Not even the crackle of a low burning fire in this chill autumn night. He tried the handle then. It moved freely under his fingers. The door swung inwards. A cold, dark room. His eyes, already adjusted to the darkness, took in a rumpled bed, a fire that had not seen flame in many days. Clothes on the floor as if she had stopped caring about the monotonous task of washing or putting them away. Or, as if someone had been through her things.
He stood in the middle of it, with a certain dread pounding behind his eyes. Something was wrong. He had known. Somehow, he had known and he could be begin to explain to himself how.
He left her room and silently drifted down the hall to the rooms of her father. With Geo Note he gave no regard to privacy, turned the knob (did these people never lock their doors?) and slipping into the darkened rooms. There was a fire burning here. Albeit a low, much neglected one that had turned into little more than glowing embers in the blackened hearth. The smell of wine was strong. There was a empty bottle on the floor that he narrowly missed kicking. The rooms, both outer and inner were also neglected. Most unlike the Great Priest to live in such squalor. Most unlike the Great Priest to fall into his bed clothed and stinking of strong drink. Gara had not known Geo Note partook of spirits at all, being a prudish man of the cloth.
Roughly he shook the priest's shoulder, crouched next to the bed, elbows resting on knees. Geo Note snorted and grumbled in his sleep.
"Wake up, man." Gara whispered harshly and jabbed him again.
"Wh -- what?" Geo Note sputtered, waved his hands at the sudden shock of rude awakening. He stared wide eyed and blindly into the darkness. "Yoko? Yoko?"
"That's a good question. Where is Yoko?"
It took a good moment for the priest to orient on the man squatting next to his bed. He recoiled, when his eyes finally focused on Gara, and scrambled awkwardly up to a sitting position, his back to the headboard.
"By Eno Marta -- what time is it?"
"Night time." Gara supplied.
"I --I thought she had come home. I dreamed terrible things had happened to her. Because of him. Oh, Goddess watch over her."
Gara rose, leaned hands on the side of the bed and peered into Geo Note's face. "What's happened to her, Priest? Where is she, if not home?"
"Run away. From me. From marriage. With him. They're condemning
her for it. Larz has sent men to chase her down. It's His
"Who's He. What marriage? What in hell has been going on?"
"You weren't supposed to know. The king commanded it. The Prophet advised it." Geo Note lowered his face into his hands and sobbed. "But now its too late. He'll be the death of her."
"Damnit man, who and why? And I was not supposed to know what?"
Geo Note reached out and grabbed the edge of his cloak, desperation in his eyes. "Schneider. Schneider is who. From the grave. And she's run off with him and they'll both be killed."
Gara stepped back, breaking the Great Priest's hold on him, his
breath caught in his chest. The babblings of a drunk old man who'd
lost track of his daughter, his head told him. Then memory recalled
several occasions where the Dark Mage in question had defied the
boundaries of death. Schneider had a habit of coming back from the
dead. Or hell had a habit of kicking him out. But of course Geo
Note's words did not make sense. If Schneider was back, his being on
the run with Yoko was about as likely as him declaring his faith to
the High God. Schneider did not RUN
"You're drunk, old man. No men of Larz would chase Dark Schneider down. Much less kill him. Clear your head."
"No. No. It's true. The wards. The Prophet placed wards on him while he was senseless. He is helpless. They would have burned him on the witchfires, but the Prophet declared he would save his soul. I don't believe that any longer. Yoko didn't. She helped him escape and now the both of them are hunted. The Prophet is mad to have him back. I can not understand it. He was always such a reasonable man before this."
Gara took a breath. Schneider back from the grave. With wards preventing him from magic. With the forces of the church and the king hunting him down. With Yoko in tow. It was all a bit much. But then, with Schneider it usually was.
"You can't just burn a man for being a witch. Drive them out of town, destroy their shops, yes, but send men out after them?"
"He killed men. Innocent men outside the Temple. The king has charged him with murder and the Prophet has called him a spawn of Satan."
"Yeah, what else is new? Both are probably true to one extent or another."
"The Prophet --- the Prophet is obsessed with him, though the king won't see it. I do. Too late."
Geo Note reached for him imploringly. "Gara, you've got to find Yoko. Protect her. From them. From HIM. He'll only hurt her. You know he'll only hurt her."
Gara didn't answer. He melted back into the shadows, leaving the priest to his drunken lamentations. There were other sources of information in Meta-Rikan. He believed the priest. Geo Note, even drunk, was not a man to spin fables. Schneider was alive. Alive. He refused to think of the implications of that. For now, he merely needed to know the details.
The outer chambers of the rooms in the highest level of the Temple were darkened. The glass doors of the windows that looked out upon the city, slightly ajar, allowing the breeze to billow the drapery slightly. The stern stone angles outside were stolid reminders of those powers that looked down on man from higher realms. Gara had used them as anchors for his lines.
There were chests in the room, with tops open, half packed or unpacked, the Prophet in the process of going or coming. Gara slipped past them, to the half ajar door to the inner room. Fire burned in that room, and candles, bright enough to denote a waking body, not a sleeping one. He hesitated at the door, silent as night. And from unbidden and unseen within the room a voice said.
"Don't lurk in the shadows, Master Ninja, come in."
Gara drew breath, startled. Astonished that the man could know of his presence. He pushed the door open and stepped into the bed chamber of the Prophet, regardless. Angelo stared at him, seating at a small writing desk, his hand poised over a parchment he was scripting. As ever, his face was devoid of anything but serene good will. But the face of altruism, no matter how well crafted, did not fool Gara into believing that this was not a man who valued power first and foremost.
"I've heard a rumor, Your Holiness, that disturbs me."
"Indeed it must, for you to violate the sanctity of my rooms unbidden. Have you reverted to your old ways, Master Ninja?" The quill was laid carefully down. The Prophet folded his hands before him, lifting one curious brow.
"I have heard that Dark Schneider is back among the living and that you have bound his magic and declared his life forfeit. Dare I believe such wild tales? Though the former is not unprecedented the latter suggests a great deal of presumption."
"Presumption, Master Ninja? And had he come back -- as an agent of the Dark Power that rules hell and killed innocent men in hell's name -- then should he be allowed to run rampart over all the good and faithful people of the lands?"
"What about the not so faithful? You seem to continuously forget about them."
"Yes, well, they ask for their own fates."
"I'm told you wished to keep this information from me. Why, I would even assume you went to great lengths -- considering the priests on the road who spoke lies to prevent my coming."
"If priests spoke lies, then they are no true servants of the god. Who would ever think to block your passage anywhere, Master Ninja. Could it even be done?"
Gara was a expert of reading men's intentions, and yet with the Prophet he felt as if he stared a painting by the hand of a master who depicted exactly what he wished a person to perceive of his work. It had always been so with Angelo. And yet, there was some scent of peril just beneath the eyes. Some sense that Angelo merely waited for the chance to lunge. It was an intangible notion that made Gara nervous and few things made the Ninja Master uncertain. He had his answers. The Prophet had not said in so many words, but he had said all the same that Schneider was indeed back and that church and king, most assuredly in that order, were on his heels.
"Did you think to keep it from us forever?"
"No." Angelo said. "Just long enough. And I do thank you for coming, it will make my case so much more justified."
"What?"
The Prophet smiled, then jerked, clutching at his side. Blood seeped from between his fingers. He screamed, as if in great pain and half stumbled from his chair. Gara stared, shocked, until he heard running feet from the outer room. Then it occurred to him that he was being set up. He snarled, briefly considering taking the murasume from its sheath and truly bloodying it on the deceitful bastard. But, damned little good would come of that -- the assassination of the Prophet. He whirled and made for the window even as two priests came running at the Prophet's scream. They saw him and cried out in alarm, calling for guards. The Prophet called weakly for help from the other room. Then Gara was shimmying down the line with the agility of a spider thinking himself a fool twice over.
They brought the Prophet to the castle, where the king's own physician might care for his wound. It was the puncture of a sword, just above the kidneys, thank the one God that it had not been lower or higher or the Prophet might have suffered a long painful death. The town was in a uproar, squadrons combing it for the foul assassin that had attempted the Prophet's life. There was no sign.
"Waste not your time." Angelo lifted a weak hand and placed it over the King's who sat near his bed, anger on his pale face. "You shall never find one such as he."
"Gara. Gara!! How could he, damn him, after I gave him lands and honor. How could he betray us so?"
"It was not his doing, my lord." Angelo smiled gently. "It was the taint of Schneider that drove him back to his old murderous ways. He'll influence all of them -- the Thunder Empress -- the Ice Lord. His dark allure was always strong, but now it has the power of hell to back it. There will be war, my lord. God save us all, they will gather forces and descend upon us as they did in the past."
"I'll gather the legions. Call in troops from all the south." Larz paced, hollow eyed and determined. "This will not happen again. I have seen too much of war to allow it."
"Send not the troops after them. They are his puppets. Send them to find Schneider. He is the crux of the evil that faces us." The Prophet paused, wincing in great pain. The healer offered him an herbed tea to soothe the discomfort. He bravely waved it away.
"My Lord King, send your forces north of Judas, for that is where
HE
Larz turned, a deep breath filling his chest. "I do not want war brought upon my people again, Prophet. I truly do not wish to suffer them that, when they have only begun to recover from the last. Tell me that finding Schneider will stop that from happening. Tell me that is what you see, Prophet."
"It is what I see, your majesty. What the High God shows me. Find him, majesty. Corner him, strip him of support and leave him to the church to deal with. That is how I prophesy that the horrors of war might be avoided."
Larz nodded once. "Then it will be so."
A days walk from the unfortunate encounter with the lady of the forest and Schneider and Yoko happened upon the first sign of the logging operation that so distressed Glyncara. There was a trail in the wood that was wider and more well traveled than a game trail. There were signs of wagon wheels and hooves having passed it in abundance. Schneider boldly stepped onto it and began following it northward. Not certain that such a direct approach was wise, but still somewhat preoccupied over the disturbing curse placed on her, Yoko followed without argument. Very soon they heard the laughter and conversation of men.
Three men, in the hardy, plain clothing of woodsmen, two with axes over their shoulders and one with a bag of supplies strolled down the trail. When they chanced to notice Schneider and Yoko walking towards them, the conversation stopped, which was never in her opinion a sign of good things to come. Schneider did not seem to care. He strode onwards as if strange men bearing axes in the forest were no concern for him.
"You there. How far is your camp?"
Yoko rolled her eyes at the bluntness. One might as well announce to them that they were on a mission to drive them out of the forest.
The three loggers exchanged looks. Then looked them over in turn, all three sets of eyes lingering in an uncomfortable manner on Yoko.
"Why? You lookin' for work? She'll find plenty on her back." They laughed at that, convincing themselves they were of high wit. "Nothing like her in Thraxtown."
"Thraxtown? Is that your camp?"
The loggers shifted, moving about them, obviously more interested in looking Yoko up and down than concentrating on Schneider's questions. Nervously, she moved closer to him, pressing against his arm.
"How much for a romp in the leaves with the little lady?"
Schneider lifted a brow. "She's not for sale or rent. Romp with each other if the urge is so strong."
They chortled at that, but it was not a pleasant laughter. "Bet she'd be happy to have a real man ride her 'stead of a pretty boy like him."
"Three real men."
They circled closer. Yoko clutched at Schneider's arm.
"So, let me get this straight." He asked in a silky tone. "You're not going to tell me where your camp is?"
"No, but we'll take your woman there."
Schneider smiled. The sword came out of the sheath with a smooth motion and he whirled two handed and sliced into the unprotected belly of the man on his right. Yoko yelped and crouched under the return arc. The two loggers who were not trying to hold their intestines in cried out in articulate rage and attacked. One swung his ax madly. Schneider blocked it with the blade, caught the ax head in the cross guard of the sword and kicked his opponent in the gut. Then when the man bent double. Sliced his throat.
Blood splattered Yoko. The third logger was smart enough to realize he faced a swordsman and had no sword himself. He dropped his bag and started running. Schneider did not dignify the retreat with chase. Merely hefted the sword and flung it like a spear. It lodged in the back of the escaping man. The logger sprawled flat on his face with the blade sticking up from his back.
Yoko gagged. She wiped blood from her face and glared at Schneider. She was trembling. Her stomach was queasy. Fear and reaction begin to turn into anger.
"What in hell are you doing?" she screamed at him. "Are you mad? You just -- you just killed them. How could you just kill them?"
Schneider stared at her incredulously. "Did you miss something there?" he demanded. "Should I have let them have their way with you? Did you pick up a taste for gang rape while I was gone?"
"You moron!" She climbed to her feet and stalked towards him. He took a step back warily when she raised her clenched fists. "You don't just go around slicing people open."
"Would you have felt better if I'd burned them to a crisp? I would have preferred it, believe me, but that option wasn't open. Besides, she told us to stop the loggers. This is as good a way to start as any."
"Do you see this blood on me? I don't like blood from other people's slit throats spurting on me. It was hot and it was disgusting and if you ever drop a bloody corpse at my knees again I will sooooo make you regret it." She waved a finger under his nose to emphasize her point. "And if you have to go and butcher someone -- just warn me ahead of time, would you, so I can get out of the way. And I want a knife or a sword or something, because I am tired of cowering like some helpless woman everytime something threatens us."
She planted her fists on her hips and glared up at him, waiting for a response. He stared down, a very slight smile touching his lips.
"Are you finished?" he asked finally.
She sniffed and admitted. "I think so."
"You are so beautiful when you're angry."
Goddess. She rolled her eyes, threw up her hands and stalked away to check the corpses, grisly job that it was, for a knife or dagger she could claim for her own.
"You look good with blood on you too." He added, as if that would make her okay with the feel of the sticky stuff spattered all over her. Then she recalled thinking something similar of him not too long ago and blushed. She found a six inch knife on the one with the slit throat and wiped its sheath clean of blood with leaves before sticking it in her belt.
Schneider retrieved his sword, similarly cleaned it and rummaged about in the pack of the dead man after he had dragged the three bodies from the path. There were food stuffs, extra clothing, tags for marking trees, canvas, cord and various other simple survival supplies. Everything but the tags was a goddess send.
"Don't even think about eating here." She warned, when he looked like he was going to delve into the food stuffs then and there, corpses and all. He cast her a pained look, which turned into one of resignation, then cast the pack over his shoulder and ushered her down the trail the way the loggers had come.
"Why this way? They were headed the other direction?"
"Because Glyncara said north. That way is west."
She couldn't argue with that. She had to admit not being particularly clear on the part of his conversation with the lady of the forest after the curse had been laid on her. One tended towards distraction when one learned one might turn into a tree.
So she followed him down the trail, away from the carnage, rubbing at the blood spots on her skin. She hoped they would come upon a stream soon so she might wash the stuff from her body and clothing. She mentioned that desire and he said sagely.
"Oh, we will."
It was not until later that afternoon that she realized how far they had come since the flight from Judas. She heard the rushing of the river before they came to it. The Ahrend River, which divided the South from the plain lands of the lower North. It cut through the Great Forest from the mountains of the east and traveled in an ever widening channel towards the sea. It was the longest river on the continent.
One moment they were walking through the wood, intent on the sounds of a great deal of running water and the nest, the trees just stopped. The wood ended in an abrupt and savage swath of razed land that extended for as far as the eye could easily see. Dry, drying undergrowth coiled and twisted around the stumps of a thousand trees. It was so shocking, so devastating a destruction that Yoko almost walked out of the wood to better see the wreckage. Schneider caught her arm and yanked her back before she could step foot from beneath the shadow of the foliage.
"Remember the curse." He hissed at her. She blanched and hugged herself.
The river Ahrend ran to their left, cutting through both forest and razed land both. It would be, she thought numbly, the perfect vehicle for transporting logs down stream to the docks and lumber yards of Ciziran and Thacon which sat on either side of the gulf that the river emptied into. How very convenient a means for the death of a forest.
"Oh Goddess." She whispered. "The Great forest went for fifty miles past the Ahrend. What have they done?"
"The march of civilization." Schneider said in disgust. "They've got to rebuild everything we destroyed during one battle or another. Look." He pointed into the expanse of devastation. In the distance, at the edge of the river sat a wood walled compound. There seemed to be activity about it. There was a road alongside the river leading to it and the forest. Many such roads, from the look of it, including the one they stood on the edge of. Roads for wagons to haul back lumber to be send down the river. It was a huge logging city, with no doubt hundreds upon hundreds of men working within and without. How were they to stop something so large?