WOLVERINE'S WORLD - THE SHIELD
Rahne and I were trying our best to stitch together some presentable clothes. Our encounter with the Creed had left us both pretty well chewed up, but we - of course - eventually healed. Our clothes, on the other hand, were far worse for the wear.
Emma helped us. Both she and Rahne were a bit surprised when it turned out that I was actually passable with a needle and thread. Given enough years, you can't help but pick up a variety of skills.
"Is this how things normally go with you?" Emma asked curiously. The three of us were sitting in a tight circle, on a sunlit part of the pier. Rahne was wearing nothing but her cloak. I had on my boots and my only pair of spare pants.
"What do you mean?" I replied distractedly. I was trying to stitch up the long cuts on the back of my jacket. Actually, that wasn't due to the Creed. Emma and a close acquaintance of hers were responsible for that particular damage.
Emma gave me a disgusted look. "Oh, I don't know... perhaps I'm referring to the constant stream of desperate battles and mystical encounters? Is this a typical week in the life of a seeker?"
"Absolutely," I said with a straight face. "Although you forgot to mention all of the beautiful women begging for the privilege of jumping into my bedroll."
Rahne snorted - and then hastily covered her mouth. Emma cuffed her lightly on the side of the head.
"Stop acting like an ill-mannered virgin," Emma scolded Rahne.
"I'm not a..." Rahne began heatedly.
"Rahne," I interrupted hastily, "go do something that does not involve talking."
Rahne stalked off and angrily began feeding sticks into the camp-fire.
*She's not, you know,* Emma said to me telepathically. Rahne's hearing was actually better than most Blood. She would easily overhear any actual words that Emma and I exchanged. *She spent months by herself, with no family to take care of her, and...*
I held a hand up to forestall the conversation.
Emma sighed, put down her sewing, and gave me a long and steady look. Then she leaned forward, took my hands in hers, and touched her forehead to mine.
I closed my eyes and gently squeezed her hands in return.
*You men always think you can change anything if you're just stubborn enough,* she told me.
*And women believe that everything - absolutely everything - needs to be discussed at length,* I replied.
There was a ripple of amusement in Emma's mind. *Why do you suppose that two such alien creatures seem to need one another?*
I considered that. *Perhaps we're supposed to complement each other?*
*I think that's right,* Emma thought just before her lips met mine.
Rahne made a gagging sound. Without breaking the kiss, I tossed a rock in her general direction. I wasn't really paying attention so, not surprisingly, it didn't connect.
Then Rahne suddenly let out a loud whoop, startling Emma and I out of our reverie. On bare feet, scrambling from concrete block to concrete block, she sprinted to the end of the rock pier.
There was movement out on the river. It was the river-boat. The one we'd originally taken passage with. It was finally on its way downstream.
Rahne began jumping up and down, waving both arms, and yelling frantically.
The cloak that was all Rahne was wearing was flapping wildly. She didn't pause in the slightest.
Emma and I looked at each other.
"Perhaps I am somehow misunderstanding this situation," Emma asked in a tone of voice that was somewhere between amazed and dangerous. "Is she really waving at a boat full of sailors, while simultaneously giving them a skin show?"
"Yes," I said resignedly. "On the other hand, that should definitely catch their attention,"
And so it had. The crew had all dropped their oars and were standing on their benches, cheering wildly and waving back at Rahne. I could see David among them. The captain was roaring angrily as he tried to restore order on his vessel.
Emma got to her feet. There was an ominous air about her.
"Rahne is too old to spank," I informed her.
"That's certainly an opinion," Emma said as she began stalking towards Rahne.
By the time the boat was tied-off, Rahne was literally wrapped around David. He was standing in the middle of the boat's low forecastle, holding Rahne aloft by her thighs. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs locked around his midsection. Their lips were pressed together and they were in a world all of their own.
I shook hands with the captain as Emma began the process of prying the younglings apart.
The captain took in our appearance. "Did you run into some trouble?" he asked slowly.
It took some effort not to laugh in his face. "You might say so."
The captain decided to let that go.
"What's your schedule?" I asked.
"It's a day to the Point. We'll stop there for another day - I have some cargo to drop off. Then we go straight on to Nyack. We should be there in four or five days all told."
I nodded. Then I glanced at Rahne - and down at my own disheveled state.
"Do you have any clothes for sale?"
The Point is located on a high bluff that juts out into the Huds river. It is a natural barrier to the upper Huds. Back when the Folk ruled the world, the Point was a place of warriors. That part hasn't changed. The Point is heavily fortified and well defended.
I've passed through the Point many times. The Captain of the Point is powerful and quite wealthy. His samurai patrol the region, deal with would-be pirates and bandits, and keep the peace among the lesser lords and freeholders. His boats and ships control a long stretch of the river. Merchants and boat-men pay his tolls and make profitable use of his counting-houses, docks, market-places, and warehouses. The Nyack merchant guilds keep substantial operations at the Point and pay well for the privilege.
The Point is a strange place, with odd customs that you will find nowhere else. For one thing, it's the only place I know of where the lord is one of the Folk.
"A Folk? Really?" Rahne said slowly. Our boat was in the process of tying off at a dock. A samurai was already aboard - and his men were waiting on the dock. Our captain had resignedly handed over the docking fee.
I nodded. "Yes. It's always been that way."
Rahne frowned skeptically. "I've heard of Wilder and even Scatter becoming lords, but never Folk."
"It's extremely rare," Emma said. "Normally, it's because the Folk lord has made common cause with others."
I nodded. "The Captain does have powerful friends."
Rahne frowned at the boat captain.
"Not him," I chuckled. "The lord of the Point is always addressed as 'Captain'."
Rahne's frown deepened. She was obviously confused. "Why?"
The tale was too long to tell, so I just shrugged. "It's a matter of custom and history."
"The Blood tolerate this?" Rahne persisted. "Why? He's just Folk."
"Watch your mouth, girl," the leading samurai growled irritably. He was back on the dock with his men. They'd overheard us - and some of them were looking distinctly offended. The multi-colored badge of the Point was on the shoulders of the samurai. They served the Captain with their lives and that included defending his name.
Emma hurriedly got in front of Rahne and bowed low in the samurai's direction. "Our pardon, sir. The girl is of the age that any notion that occurs to her springs immediately out of her mouth. And there's this boy she can't wait to spread her legs for - that's making her even sillier than usual."
"What?" Rahne gasped in wide-eyed astonishment. The look she was giving Emma was priceless.
The older samurai's eyes suddenly cleared and he nodded knowingly. "Oh... I have two girls about that age. I know how that is. They grow tits and go crazy."
"What?" Rahne repeated. Her voice was distinctly higher this time. I stood next to Rahne and put a hand over her mouth. She slumped in resignation.
"It'll get better in a year or two," I assured him, "but in the meantime, it can be trying."
The samurai grinned and was about to say something in response when he finally got his first clear look at me. He paused for a moment and then carefully bowed his head.
"Greetings, seeker James," he said respectfully. I didn't recognize him, but the Point is a fair-sized town and it had been some years since the last time I'd stopped there.
I took a moment to examine the squad of samurai on the dock. Any hostility they might have felt was clearly dissipating. Perhaps it would be best to help it along.
"The Old One is gone, but his spirit remains..." I quietly quoted the ancient words. Some things do not need to be shouted.
"We remember the Old One," the lead samurai, his men, the nearby sailors, several dock-workers, Emma, and Rahne all chorused together.
"...and he is with us," I finished.
Everyone growled their agreement.
And that was how it should be.
We climbed up the narrow stairs that had been carved in the bluff face. The docks are quite separate from the town that is the true heart of the Point.
Once we were atop the bluff, Emma left in search of a room. Yes, she'd once again whispered enticing words in my ears and... yes... I'd once again fallen for it. The woman wasn't even bothering to hide her deviousness any longer.
Rahne and I went elsewhere. There's a place I had a responsibility to visit whenever I was in town.
"Another shrine?" Rahne asked nervously. "We just went to a shrine. Remember what happened?"
"This one promises to be less dangerous," I responded. Rahne didn't say anything. She was being cooperative - I'd promised that she could see David once he was done with his duties aboard the boat.
Rahne looked around curiously. Some buildings of the Point are ancient, made of brick and mortar in a style nobody uses any longer. Most are more recent and more typical of the Blood. They're constructed of timber and cut-stone.
There's a cemetery in the grounds of the Point. Many of the graves dated back to the days before the rise of the Blood. For centuries, the Captains of the Point have honorably maintained those graves. An oath was made long ago and it was being dutifully kept. That was a deed to respect.
In the center of the graveyard was a stone structure that at first glance appeared to be a tomb. In fact, it was not.
Standing guard before the tomb, wearing armor of black and gray, was an Iron Man.
The alliance between the Captains of the Point and the Iron Men was ancient. The Iron Men are Folk who maintain the venerable - some would say 'evil' - sciences of the old times. While their fortress is located in Nyack, the Iron Men always keep at least one of their number at the Point. That presence was a very visible symbol of the alliance between the Captains and the Iron Men.
An Iron Man is an awesome sight, standing almost seven foot tall and armored from head to foot. Over the years, the various suits of armor worn by the Iron Men have been noted. There are six suits in common use, but more are available in case of emergencies. At the Battle of Tyrants, almost two centuries ago, the Iron Men deployed ten suits of armor. One was particularly huge - over ten foot tall - but lacking the ability to fly. It has not been seen since and there was speculation that it was no longer functional.
As we approached the Iron Man, Rahne edged closer to me. I glanced at her. Rahne's blues eyes were tense and worried.
"Don't be frightened," I told to her as I ran a hand over her tangle of red hair, smoothing it down.
She nodded and put on a calm face. But she also took my hand in hers.
My brave little Rahne.
The Iron Man was standing between us and the door. I bowed my head politely before speaking.
"In the name of the Old One, I wish to enter," I said.
Close up, the armor was quite intimidating. There was no sign of the man - or woman - inside. Even the helm's eye-slits were set with a yellow glass that did not allow for a glimpse of the eyes inside. The helm moved slightly as the Iron Man considered our request. Then a steel-clad arm reached out and rapped twice on the timbered door.
There was steel plate etched with fine engraving on the Iron Man's upper-arm. It was a long list of all those who had worn the armor. The first name on the list belonged to a man named Rhodes. Next to his name was a symbol of a globe and an anchor.
After a pause, the door swung open. A heavily-built Folk samurai wearing plate armor, but without a helmet, held the door open as he silently considered us. I knew him.
"Hello, Dane."
The samurai's face remained professionally expressionless.
"Honored seeker, it's been a while," he replied formally. "Please enter."
Three other armored samurai stood against the far walls - being a guard there was an honor reserved for the most experienced and trusted of their kind. The inside of the structure was better lit than you might have guessed from the outside. The roof and upper walls have narrow slits cleverly carved in them to admit light. The light focuses in the center of the room.
Dane got out of our way and allowed us to enter.
"Do as I do," I told Rahne quietly.
Then we approached the Shield. It rested on a plain wooden platform, held up so that it faced the doorway. The paint on the Shield was battered and scratched from long-ago battles, but you could still see the old, deceptively simple, heraldry. The red and blue concentric circles, with a white, five-pointed, star in the center.
I clapped my hands twice to let the ancient spirits know we were there. Then I bowed carefully. After a brief moment of hesitation, Rahne copied me.
However, as had always been the case, the spirits already knew of our presence.
I am not a seeker by choice. Instead, that choice was made for me when I discovered that I could see and sense things that others cannot. So I could feel the massive presence of the spirits unfolding all around us. There were thousands and thousands of them. They were the ghosts of Folk warriors - a host so huge that the modern world doesn't even have a word to encompass their number. They were the not-gone of unimaginably vast wars. To my eyes, they were clad in blue, gray, green, tan, and camouflage, and their hooded eyes were upon us, patiently waiting and watching for something that we who still live cannot completely understand.
As always, it seemed as if one of the ghosts loomed above the others. I met his eyes and he seemed to nod at me.
He knew me. Or rather, he knew who and what I represented.
The weight of all that was nearly too much. I wavered. Dane - he was standing right behind Rahne and I - grabbed me by the shoulder. Rahne quickly wrapped her arms around my midsection, helping to steady me.
"The Old One is gone, but his spirit remains..." Dane said softly.
Some things do not need to be shouted.
"We remember the Old One," Rahne and I responded.
"...and he is with us," Dane finished.
The ancient spirit watching us seemed to nod in response. Then he was gone, vanished into the multitude of his eternal companions.
There is more than one Old One.