《Eight》3.8. Two Villages
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For the next three hours, Yuki and I focused on meditating, driving the qi through my channels, pushing as hard as my meridians could handle. An internal heat built up, a glow centered on my dantians that spread through me. The warmth felt good at first—it being a damp and chilly autumn day—but then got steadily more uncomfortable.
Enough time passed for me to recover twenty-four points’ worth of mana, effectively filling my tank, but then I spent it out all again casting Healing Water six times on the injured hunters. Between it, the Nature’s Spring spell, the first aid applied, and the opportunity to rest, we were almost ready to move out again.
Susu still looked a bit peaked, but she gamely stood next to Dura—the two of them consulting on how to proceed. Their conversation took time, though it was the hunters who really delayed us, since none of them wanted to leave behind fifty-three cutter hawks. They needed another half hour to finish dressing the birds and collect their cores.
Each of us got four or five to carry in our backpacks, with Dura holding onto the silverlight until it could be split into shares later.
We set off using the same formation as before, with me and Teila at the center of the lead group, yet it was only about twenty minutes before we ran into a cluster of trees showing signs of Borba’s Siphon ability and had to stop again. That was another couple of hours, and we were well into the afternoon by the time I was done cleansing the trees.
At the rate we were going, Borba was rapidly outpacing us. After all, it only took him only a moment to slash a tree with his claws, slightly longer when he tried to hide what he’d done. Dura must’ve had the same thought, because afterward he pushed us to move faster.
None of us were at our best after what had happened with the cutter hawks, but we picked up the pace, jogging past the bits of drab light speckling the forest floor. The wind blew steadily, whipping stray droplets into my face, but it helped to mask the sound of our traveling.
At one point, we came across a series of narrow streams, one of which had a log fallen across it. The shape and the way the moss hung from it made it look like a bearded old man. I had to stop to take a closer look, just in case it was some kind of treant, but no, it was just the remains of an oak tree.
I took comfort in seeing the others stopping to look too. When I asked, none of them knew of any trees that walked, but I’d encountered one on my spirit journey with Ikfael, so it’d be a mistake to rule out the possibility.
We got moving again, and I eventually spotted an area of the forest where the spirits were disturbed. There, we found evidence of a fight: the still-wet ground had been torn up by multiple feet moving at inhuman speeds. Some of the prints were especially deep, and I recognized the signs of Tegen invoking Bear’s Strength.
We examined the area carefully, hearts-in-our-throats worried for what we’d find, but there was only minimal blood, the amount you’d find from flesh wounds, and there was no evidence of any bodies hitting the ground or being laid out to be treated.
Expanding our search turned up more trees being Siphoned by Borba, as well as five stray arrows. The markings on the shafts indicated that one had belonged to Mumu, two to Haol, and two to Peng. Borba must’ve stolen the dead man’s bow and arrows.
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While I got to work cleansing the trees, the others pieced together what had happened. The answer seemed obvious to me—Borba had attempted to ambush the hunters chasing him, and the result was a draw, with the trail leading farther east and the prints spread far enough apart to indicate empowered sprinting.
While I waited for Yuki to finish working on a bent-over bilkelet tree, I considered Borba’s willingness to ambush the hunters. It signified a belief on his part that he could take us on, or at least the grouping of Mumu, Haol, and Tegen, which meant he’d had confidence in his abilities. Or... he’d thought Mumu’s group had been diminished in some way, like for example if they’d just had an encounter with four dozen cutter hawks. They hadn’t, though. No, Mumu’s group had gone past, and left the hawks behind for the other hunters to handle.
I supposed it was possible that Mumu’s group had missed the hawks in their hurry chasing after Borba, but that didn’t seem likely from hunters of their caliber. Mumu’s not thinking clearly, is she? She didn’t even leave a warning. Unless we somehow missed it?
Yuki’s qi blipped to let me know they were done with the bilkelet. She may have thought that we’d follow her example and pass the hawks by, that her anger was our anger and her urgency our urgency.
Hmm... we might’ve done that if not for Teila’s plan. But once we knew we could do something, we had to; we couldn’t in good conscience leave the hawks alone, not as close as they were to the road. Mumu underestimated us. Badly.
She tries to hide it, but she is lost in grief.
“Yeah,” I muttered, and shook my head. People were capable of doing a lot of stupid things when hurt and angry.
I looked, and there were a handful of trees still left to treat. We were falling farther and farther behind, but Borba’s taint had to be cleansed. If not, we’d only make the moment when we finally caught up to him worse.
I cursed under my breath, jumped down, and ran to the next tree—barely noticing when Teila followed to guard my back and the hunters shifted positions to keep the two of us in the center of their formation.
###
The trail led us east, and we came to the forest’s edge, the land before us opening onto a wide plain. There were wooded hills in the far distance, but they were miles and miles away, and everything in between was a mixture of meadow, pasture, and farmland. The village of Voorsowen lay neatly nestled into land, only about a twenty-minute walk from the tree line.
The base of the village’s wall was made of quarried stone blocks and approximately twelve feet high, topped by a wooden palisade that rose another fifteen feet. It was an unusual arrangement, and the stone base must’ve been slotted to keep the tree trunks that made up the palisade steady.
The gate, I noticed, was closed, and there were no people out in the fields. I did catch the glint of metal moving along the top of the wall, though.
Dura must’ve noticed too, because he held us back from stepping out into the open until Susu’s team could join us. Then, once we were all gathered, we approached the village, hands close to our weapons. Voorhei had a good relationship with Voorsowen, but it was clear to everyone present that something had caused the village to turtle up.
About halfway to the gate, a group of five riders came into view, galloping around the wall’s north side towards us. All of them carried lances in hand and rode dun-colored horses with dark gold stripes under their manes and at the rump. It was the same breed as we had in Voorhei, but these looked larger, their spirits fiercer.
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Their talents confirmed that, and I saw things like Charge Them Down, Hooves Like Steel, Runs Forever, and The Fast ‘n Furious. The people were more mixed. Yes, there were fighting talents—Natural Lancer and An Archer and His Horse among them—but most seemed to be related to ranching. My guess was that these people belonged to the village’s militia.
At about twenty yards, the riders pulled to a stop, forming a line facing us. The one in the middle squinted in our direction, and yelled, “Is that Susunou I see?”
Susu stepped forward. “Aye, it’s me. This is my team with me, and another hunter, Durasta, with his team too. What’s going on?” Under her breath, she whispered. “That’s Thavra. He and me have done business before.”
“What’s going on you ask; your damn lodge is what. One of your hunters killed nearly half my herd. Then, when your lodge master shows up, she doesn’t listen to a word and blows right through.”
“Right,” Susu says, rubbing the back of her head. “We can explain that. Better let us in to talk to your people.”
“You don’t have any more crazed hunters with you?”
“No, I vouch for these, one and all.”
The man called Thavra gestured, and the horsemen very neatly wheeled around before leading the way to the village’s gate.
“Always been a damn show off,” Susu muttered, and with a gesture of her own, she led us onward.
###
The walls may have been different, but Voorsowen’s interior was the same as Voorhei’s: a maze constructed of longhouses and plazas designed to slow anyone or anything attacking the village. There were family gardens interspersed, hidden behind the longhouses, which I caught sight of through the gaps in between.
Everyone seemed to be inside in their homes, along with their animals. They gazed out at us as we passed by. There were a decent number of ghosts too, but none of dogs. That was weird to me; I’d gotten so used to them in Voorhei.
“They don’t raise dogs here?” I asked.
Teila, walking beside me, shook her head. “Only Albei is allowed to. We got ours from the city when he was a pup.”
“Voorsowen is known for its horses,” Dura said.
“Which they are much too proud of if you ask me,” Susu added. “They’re just meat and bones, like any other animal.”
Dura glanced sideways at her. “Maybe I should do the talking.”
Susu responded with a tight nod and a sigh. “Aye, that may be best.”
The horses clip clopped ahead, the paths turning from dirt to stone, and we came to the pyramid at the village’s center. It was only about half the height of Voorhei’s, though, and not nearly as well decorated. Ours was beautifully engraved with images of spirits and dogs, their eyes embedded with candle stones. The one in Voorsowen had horses and what were probably llamas, which was fine, but it looked to me like they’d skimped on the artists. The engravings were short on details and not as polished as they could be.
Someone must’ve let the village leadership know we were coming, because the trio stood out in front.
Apskala the Reeve (Human)
Talents: Head for Numbers, Merchant’s Brat, Animal Lover
Mudrus the Village Head (Human)
Talents: Horses for Life, Warm Demander, Sheltered Heart
Bidwid the World Speaker (Human)
Talents: The Big Picture, Mostly Organized, Um... Yes?
All three frowned at the sight of us, but it was the reeve who stepped forward. She was a woman in her sixties, with a narrow face and a head full of gray-almost-white hair. Her lips were tight and thin from being pressed so hard together, and if looks could kill, the hunters from Voorhei would all be dead.
“You—” she said, her spirit churning with wrath; it flared like the surface of the sun. “How will you recompense the people of this village for what you’ve done?”
All around me, the hunters tensed, and I felt their own anger rise. Their glares shot past me like arrows.
“Here now, we’ve only just arrived,” Dura said, protesting.
“A lodge is like a second family—the old saying rings true, doesn’t it? And your family was here earlier, including the master herself, chasing after one of your strays. Have you heard what he did, that monster you’ve made? Three of our people injured, one at death’s door, and twenty horses either dead or in need of putting down. So, I ask again, how will you recompense us?”
“That’s not for a man like me to say; I’m just one of many. You’ll need to talk to our lodge master—”
“A lodge master who runs away—who can talk to such a woman?”
Voorhei’s hunters practically growled at her words. Some of them were discontent with her leadership, that was true, but she was still one of theirs. My own anger was also quickly rising. Mumu was my friend, as well as lodge master, team leader, and business partner. I didn’t like hearing her insulted. I also recognized that with everyone’s feelings running hot, the situation was at the brink of spinning out of control.
Borba’s actions had already caused damage to the villages’ relationship that would be difficult to heal; we shouldn’t tear open the wound further with hot words that might affect the relationship between the villages for years.
I stepped forward to tug on Dura's sleeve. “If they have injured, I can heal them.”
He’d been about to snap at Apskala, and it took a second for him to register what I’d said. Then, he nodded. “Not as payment or recompense, but one village helping another.”
“What’s that?” Apskala asked. “What are you muttering about?”
Dura clenched his hands, but his words were steady: “We can heal your injured people and animals.”
“We take care of our own,” Apskala said, “and we ‘ve sent for a healer too. Unlike some, we take our responsibilities seriously.”
“Listen here, you damned—” Susu yelled, but her team surged forward to pull her back.
“There’s a spell called Healing Water,” I said, “more effective than Nature’s Spring, which is what I’m guessing you’re using.”
Apskala looked incredulous. “You have your apprentices speaking for you now. Just what is happening in Voorhei?”
Dura gritted his teeth, and said, “This is Eight.”
“And what do I care—” she said.
The next voice didn’t come from anyone nearby: “Easy now, Apskala.” It was a woman who could’ve been the reeve’s twin, crouching on the roof of the building to our right.
I’d registered her out of the corner of my eye, but assumed she was just a bystander watching the drama unfold. Now that I looked, a sign hung above the door of the building under her: the crossed spear and bow of the Hunter’s Lodge. The woman leapt down from the roof, and landed with an easy grace.
“I’ve heard of this Eight,” she said, approaching.
Heicata the Lodge Master (Human)
Talents: Number Sensible, Nose for Animals, Soft Walker
Heicata looked me over, and shook her head. “I thought it was people telling tales, but you really are as young as they say. And, alas, your lodge master is as young as they say too. She made a mistake today. You,” she said, gesturing to Voorhei’s hunters, “need to talk some sense into her about it, while we,” she said, gesturing to herself and Voorsowen’s leaders, “will not turn down your offer.”
“But—” Apskala began.
Heicata looked meaningfully at her sister. “This is the spell I mentioned.”
“But—” the reeve began again.
“Even with Nature’s Spring,” Heicata said, “our people won’t last long enough for a healer to arrive.”
Apskala shut her eyes for a second, and I saw the fight go out of her. The wrath was still there burning at the center of her spirit, but she’d given up on exacting anything from the group of hunters in front of her, and the tension in the air diminished by a level. Everyone else seemed to feel it too.
“Very well,” she said.
Dura said, “Teila and Miri, you help too, while I stay to—” he sighed “—talk to these fine people.”
“Come,” Heicata said, gesturing to the three of us. “I will lead you to the wounded.”
She led us across the small plaza in front of the pyramid, away from the Hunter’s Lodge, towards a building with a sign above the door featuring a horse’s and llama’s heads facing each other and a half-husked ear of corn in the background.
The building itself was sturdy and squat, as if it’d been carved directly into the earth. It had stone walls, and a spot in front to hitch horses. A handful stood outside as we approached, clearly nervous because they danced in place, their ears turning towards the building.
When we got closer, I understood why; we heard the sounds of the injured coming from inside—the pained groans of people, the anxious whinnies of horses, and a throaty alarmed trilling that was new to me. I thought it was probably llamas.
“Our Rancher’s Lodge,” Heicata said, opening the door. “It is daughter to the Farmer’s Lodge in Albei.”
Right away, I was hit with the scents of blood, meat, and excrement. The room looked like it was normally crowded with desks, but they’d all been shoved to the side to make room for three people and two horses laying on blankets. A set of wide double doors stood open at the back, and through them we saw more injured horses, as well as a handful of—yes—llamas. They were laying on blood-soaked straw, but the animals inside seemed to be the priority; there was the faint scent of Nature’s Spring emanating from an older man kneeling beside one of the horses.
I dashed towards where a young man’s spirit sat glumly beside his body; a thin silver thread was all that connected the two. I lifted the bandages covering his chest, and saw the pale bones of his sternum and the right side of his upper ribs exposed; they were tinged a rusty-red from blood and Borba’s qi.
As I watched, small air bubbles formed and popped. His lung must’ve been punctured, and I instinctively touched my own chest. It’d happened to me too, once, just before I’d saved Billisha and Aluali from slavers. One of them had stabbed me, and it’d taken two or three casts of Healing Water to save myself.
My mana tank felt like it was about three-quarters full, and my water skin bulged thanks to the streams we’d encountered. Driven by my anger, the runes snapped into place, and the cool rush of the healing mana flowed through me, draining some of the heat.
As I poured the water onto the young man’s chest, the bubbles stopped forming, and the flesh around his ribs began to reknit. A second cast of the spell caused the entire wound to close, the skin whole once more. At the same time, Yuki cleansed the invasive qi from his body, and when we were done, there was just an ugly purpling bruise left behind; the young man seemed to be breathing normally again. Better yet, his spirit had been drawn back into his body.
A hand grabbed onto my shoulder. It was roughly done, and if I hadn’t had an adult’s physical attributes, it would’ve likely hurt. It was the older man who’d been casting Nature’s Spring.
“My horse... can you do that for my horse... my Belteir?”
“The people come first,” I said.
The man blinked at me. “But why? They’re just ranch hands.”
I jerked my shoulder out of his grip, and spun around to face him. I must've been faster than he’d expected, because he stumbled backward, falling onto his butt.
“No one,” I said, “is just anything.”
With the old man on his ass, he was forced to look up to match gazes with me. He scowled as he said, “Without the horses, the hands are nothing.”
His attitude pissed me off. How many farmworkers... how many kitchen cooks and gardeners had I met who didn’t count for anything except for the cheap labor they provided? Some had come from Mexico like me, but there were many others from farther south, or even from across the Pacific. No, I’d seen and faced down way too much of that attitude in my old life to let it go. I shook my head; my fists clenched, my palms and fingers tingling with electric qi.
“Without the hands,” I said, “there’d be no horses. The people are just as valuable.”
“What like that boy there? No-talent stumps like him are as common as dirt. Not like my Belteir—he’s sired a horse in the land knight’s very own stable.”
We glared at each other, the two of us, the heat building up inside me until I either had to deck him or do something productive. I gritted my teeth, and chose to be the better man. There were other injured to attend to, and they were a better use of my time than the fossil in front of me.
I turned away—I’d like to say it wasn’t in a huff, but that’d be a lie. Anyway, I focused on the remaining two injured ranch hands. Miri and Teila had been treating them with Nature’s Spring, but they’d stopped when the old man and I had exchanged words—both now standing in ready stances.
The injured at their feet had also been badly clawed by Borba: one along the left hip, while the other’s shoulder was torn open. Also, the amount of qi in their bodies steadily dropped as Borba’s Siphon ability continued to act upon them. The qi loss was impeding their bodies’ ability to deal with the wounds.
Miri and Teila stepped aside to let me cast Healing Water on one after the other, and I heard the old man sputter in anger behind me. My own temper had cooled as the mana rushed through me, building up in a wave and then breaking as the spell had been cast. The feeling was one that I would never get tired of.
A few minutes later, Yuki was finished assimilating the taint Borba had left behind on them. We have enough mana for two spells, they said.
I checked our patients, and from their spirits it looked like all three were now stable, especially with Miri and Teila continuing to aid them. Meanwhile, the animals nearby continued to call out in distress. They were being treated, but only through mundane means. The only magic I'd sensed came from Miri, Teila, and the old man from earlier.
My attention turned inward towards Yuki. What do you think—should we heal the animals? They're really suffering, and we need to cleanse Borba’s qi anyway.
Yuki observed my thoughts, long enough for my heart to settle down. You don’t want to be controlled, neither by your anger nor by—
Andrassotei the Master Horseman (Human, Dawn)
Talents: Horses Forever, Always Herd, Breeds True, Boss Man
That’s right, I said. I don’t want my reactions to him to control my actions, and I’d normally help in a situation like this, even—
Belteir the Swift (Animal)
Talents: The Swift, Easy Rider, The One, A Stallion Never Stalls
I whistled. Four talents—no wonder the old man was anxious to save him.
So we’ll heal Belteir too? Yuki asked.
Yes, the horse isn’t guilty of the rider’s crimes. But I swear, if I see a smug expression on that old man’s face, I’ll hit him. I’ll punch him for sure.
Yuki’s qi flipped in agreement, and I turned to find Heicata to let her know my plan—and maybe win a little goodwill too for helping heal the village’s animals. We might need it later. Well, not me personally, but the lodge.
At the moment, she was engaged in an intense, hushed conversation with Andrassotei, but the two of them clammed up instantly when they saw me approach. The old man made a motion forward as if to start talking to me, but Heicata stepped smoothly in front of him.
“Why don’t you attend to Belteir again,” she said.
The old man frowned, but nodded. Then, without a word to me or her, he walked past to kneel down by his horse again. After a moment, I heard him trying to convince Miri and Teila to cast their healing spells on Belteir.
“We thank you,” Heicata said to me, “for the healing you’ve provided. These are people of Voorsowen, and we are grateful to have them well again.”
I nodded to acknowledge her words, but didn’t say anything—waiting to see what she’d say next. That bit of patience paid off.
“We ask for the favor of also healing our animals, or at least the horses. They are the heart of our village; without them, we are nothing.”
“There’s only Nature’s Spring here?” I asked.
“Yes, it is spell shared among many lodges, including the ranchers.”
“And he—” I gestured over my shoulder towards Andrassotei “—is the only one who can cast it?”
“The master of the Rancher’s Lodge can, but he is in Albei at this time.”
“So only two people in the whole village?”
With every question, it became clearer and clearer the terrible position Voorsowen was in, and also how much the village needed Voorhei’s help. Heicata knew it too, but she answered anyway.
“That is unfortunately true. In the past, there’ve been more, but we’ve had some losses of late, as well as seen fewer children with the talent for magic born.” She looked me in the eyes. “I am not one to cast blame, but you cannot deny that Voorhei had a hand what happened today.” Then, her voice dropped into a whisper. “And some of us know that this Healing Water spell of yours is also possessed by your lodge master. She should have stopped her chase. What will Inleio say when he hears how she treated us—”
“Inleio is dead.” The words came out flat, my mouth not yet used to them.
Heicata eyes rounded in surprise.
“That’s why Mumu behaved as she did. Now, I’m not looking to excuse her behavior, just for you to understand it. And in return, I’ll understand how your people are upset by what happened, and I won’t let it get in the way of healing your animals.”
The master of the Hunter’s Lodge took a deep breath and looked at me again, as if seeing me anew. “Inleio was right about you. You really are quite unnatural.”
“And you’re plain speaking.”
“I am, because this village is my heart, and this spell of yours can help save it.” Heicata’s eyes bored into mine. “You see, I have no talent for qi, but I do for mana. Teach me the spell for Healing Water, and I’ll make everything right between our villages.”
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