Chapter 5

"So the first of them will be found in this Pointe Nexus?" Robin asked.

The three companions stood upon the crest of a hill looking down into the valley that was home to a bustling town. The Shaman had taken out some dried root and chewed on it absently before answering her guardian. "Yes, I warn you though, it's a strange little frontier town. Many individuals fleeing from the tyranny of the Sorcerer or the law of their own cities are here. Thieves, bounty hunters, traders and outcasts frequent the town." She then bent down to look at Bronx in the eyes. "I'm sorry my friend, but this is not a place for you." Bronx's features dropped and his eyes pleaded with her. "No, you cannot come with us. Too many people there know your race only as servants of the Sorcerer. Even though you walk in day light you will be looked upon with suspicion and fear." He hung his head in dismay. "I promise to bring you back something tasty, alright?" He gave her a forgiving lick upon her hands then lay down with his head between his front paws.

As the two travelled down the tree-laden hill, Robin asked if he would look conspicuous. "Even with my cloak up I'm sure sooner or later someone will get a good look at me."

"You need not worry, there are others like you."

This stopped the fox in his tracks. "Others?"

She turned to face him. "Ones that came before your world's end, although not from your world; the race of the Demi, neither fully human nor fully animal. Beings from across time and tales, this is a land of myths and legends my friend, you are not the strangest sight here."

"I do not doubt that for a moment." He said rolling his eyes as she continued down the hill.

As the two came closer they could better see the structures of the town, the most prominent feature being a rounded stone keep measuring about forty feet high made with grey stone slabs five foot long by three feet high. The top looked to be able to hold a platform with spaces left for archers to peer out from. Arrow slits also ran down the length of it concentrating at the front where a single door made of varnished wood enforced by metal bindings stood sentry.

Compared to this monolith the rest of the town was rather plain in comparison. Buildings had sprung up with apparently neither rhyme nor reason, simply that there was space at the time to build. Most of the structures were made of wood and thatch, very few with stone and all of varying designs. Robin recognized some with the likeness of towns he could recall from his world, two story structures with slanted roofs. Other structures that Robin had never seen before and were quite alien to him, one house in particular was squat, rounded and had the queerest roof he ever saw, it looked a drop of rain just meeting the ground before it loses its shape. Another home looked to be made of clay tiles with paper walls. The streets were a maze, street signs were crudely pounded into the ground but sometimes one did not know to which street the sign was naming where the one met the other.

As strange as he thought the houses, the beings that lived here were even stranger. Most of them were human, like the Shaman, dressed in all matters of style. Some wore simple tunics in this pleasant weather, others had clothing that was puffed out and covered with decorations. He saw one woman dressed in a long robe with over-sized sleeves cinched at the waist by a belt and two sticks tying her hair upon her head. Another lady wore black silks from head to toe leaving only her painted eyes exposed.

The first non-human they saw was at first very human looking. He was behind a stall dealing out what looked to be finely crafted spears and lances, he obviously forged the wares himself for he was a mass of muscle and upon a closer look he had the calloused hands of a blacksmith. As he stepped closer Robin could now see that he was only half a man. The stall that the half-man occupied was unusually large with a tall front display; this was to accommodate the length and height of one who is half man and half horse. The Centaur had fiery red hair upon his head his face and all along his forearms and chest. He wore a simple open tunic that matched the reddish brown coat of his lower body, tattoos covered his biceps revealing symbols that Robin could not translate although perhaps the Shaman could.

"Go ahead and have a look," the Shaman said. " I'll see about getting us a room in the Inn." When she saw his hesitation she added that she'd only be a moment and will return shortly, Robin relaxed and nodded his head.

He had heard of centaurs when he was a pup, tales of an ancient land were told to him by his grandmother but they never described what was now before him, in her tales the centaurs body was horse and fox but he supposed that their hybrid mix would change with the teller. A man wearing a light brown tunic with blonde hair had just finished purchasing spearheads and took his leave, which left the centaur to now notice Robin.

"Well, it has been a while since I've seen one of the Demi up in these lands," he said in a big booming voice directed at the guardian. "What brings you up to these lands my friend? Some sharp steel perhaps? I know you certainly lack that where you live, swamps don't give up much ore do they?"

Robin decided to go with the man's assumption, "Indeed, but such is not the reason why I'm up this way, for steel I have enough of," he said patting his scabbard. The centaur looked down and grinned.

"My, that looks like a fine crosspiece for your blade, may I see the rest of it?"

Robin grinned but shook his head. "Nay, I only unsheathe it if I intend to use it or to take care of it."

"Come now, don't be like that. I'm an admirer of steel in all its forms and my curiosity is now peaked because of your hesitation. I only wish to look, you can hold it at arms reach if yuir' scared." He grinned a challenge.

"Scared?" Robin grinned back, "Hardly, but I am not a braggart especially when the item in question was entrusted to me."

"Hmm, you are unlike any Demi I have ever met, you have a noble aura to ye, stubborn as well. Still if you do not wish to show me then very well, I shan't badger you." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Robin felt bad and shook his head. "No, I must apologize for I was being obstinate, here." He drew forth Albion silently from its sheath, the blade shone brightly in the sunlight and the reflection washed over the centaur's eyes.

"By Pan's Pipes, such a wonder I never did see, you say it was entrusted to you?"

"Aye, by my lady whom I have given a vow of guardianship to."

"And where did she find this magnificent weapon?"

"She did not say and I did not ask. If she wished me to know she would tell me."

"That scripture there, what does it mean?"

"That is the sword's name, Albion." The centaur must not be able to read, or he read a different language.

The Centaur clapped his hands in delight. "Hah ha. I know of this sword, or at least its brethren. Now what was it…. blast I canna' remember, but I have a tome that will tell me of it. Will you be staying at the Inn, the Knothole?"

"I believe so."

"Then I will come by at dusk and I will bring the tome with me, that is if you want to know about the blade."

"I'll think about it…er." He sheathed his sword again.

"Vessuivius, or "Vess" in short, and you?"

"Robin, well met Vess," He held out his hand, which the Centaur took, the strength in his grip was amazing but Robin didn't flinch. "I must now take my leave."

"I hope you will be in the common room this eve, every warrior should know where his weapon comes from."

Robin nodded a noncommittal gesture then turned from Vess's stall and headed towards the two-story Inn that his lady entered. On his way in he passed a tall dark cloaked individual with the hood pulled forward. The scent that Robin caught as he passed him was strong, masculinity mixed with blood. Robin stopped and turned but then a hand on his shoulder distracted him.

"Is something wrong?" Asked the Shaman.

"What? No, I don't think so." He tried to catch a glimpse of the figure again but he was lost to sight amongst the village crowd. "It was nothing, is the room prepared?"

"Almost, I need to trade for some supplies in the market, by the time I'm done the room will be prepared."

"Then I will accompany you."

The rest of the day was spent obtaining supplies, provisions, a new sleeping shelter, and miscellaneous items. The Shaman bought some herbs for which to make more poultices if necessary while Robin bought a pair of leather vanbraces. They also went back to visit Bronx and to give him a hunk of meat that they bought at the butchers. He happily tore into it and the two of them stayed with the Gargoyle until nightfall. While there Robin asked about his sword.

"I don't mean to be rude, but…how did you come upon Albion, if I may ask? And what do you know of its history."

She looked at him with soulful brown eyes and pushed an errant strand of hair from her face. "You are never rude my guardian, and you have every right to know about your weapon, however I do not know as much as you may think I do. It was given to me to give to one that was worthy to wield it and I have chosen you. Albion is one of the Seven Swords of Weyland and holds the powers of light and darkness that only a balanced individual may carry it."

"A 'balanced individual?' Robin scratched his chin. "What exactly does that mean? Never mind, I'm sure your going to say something cryptic that I'll need to figure out on my own." He said while waving his hands in front of him. The Shaman smiled and unrolled an extra blanket upon a patch of grass to which Bronx came and after turning on it twice finally settled down with a contented sigh. The Shaman stroked the Gargoyle's head and made soft humming sounds, lulling him into slumber.

"He didn't take long to adjust, to sleeping at night that is."

The Shaman nodded. "No, he is certainly a hardy creature, usually he would be active in his world, likely protecting his home during the night. Bronx is a very noble and loyal Gargoyle, I hope that his family do not worry too much."

"You said that you spoke with him before you summoned him, through the dreamscape I take it?"

"Yes, his was the easiest mind to contact from afar, having a rather uncomplicated mind. He's very intelligent you know." At this Bronx lifted his head and gave the Shaman a wet kiss. Both Guardian and Shaman laughed as the grey beast lay his head back down.

"Who gave you Albion?" Robin asked steering the conversation back to the sword.

The Shaman's face grew serious. "An enemy of the Sorcerer, a forest spirit that dwells in The Wild. He does not have the power to overthrow his enemy but he may aid his chosen ones through relics like Albion." She looked at him quizzically. "Why do you ask this now?"

Robin nodded towards the town, "The Centaur. He told me that he had a book that had information about it. I just didn't want to go behind your back."

"Nonsense, I don't mind if you want to learn about this world and what is contained here, knowledge is a weapon that should be well honed. Is he coming tonight to show you?"

"Yes, he'll be arriving soon at the Inn."

The Shaman stood up. "Then let us go to the warmth of the Inn, I have need for a warm bowl of stew anyhow, Bronx will be alright here." Robin stood up and slung his bow over his shoulder and together they walked down to Pointe Nexus heading towards the Knothole Inn.

The cloaked stranger watched from the concealing foliage as the pair left the Gargoyle behind. He flexed his fingers and fingered the blade of his kukri; a curved dagger with a sharpened inside curve tucked into his belt. He could strike now, likely they would be dead before they knew what hit them, but the Gargoyle posed a problem. He had fought one before and nearly lost. No, he would not take that risk; not when he was so close to the Shaman after all these months. As quiet as a cat he slipped into the shadows and was gone.