Chapter 39: Counting the Cost

When I awoke I was a little confused for a second.  I sat up suddenly and looked around.  D'ar'Beth just turned her head away in amusement. 

I groaned as my body let me know that it was not happy with the amount of abuse I had subjected it to. It took me a few seconds to realise that not all the aches and pains were actually mine. We had bonded so closely in the Sword Dance that I hadn’t let go of it completely. After a little thought and experimentation, I realised that it was no longer something that I had to do consciously, but that it would now be a natural part of how I operated. I made a mental note to explore the ramifications later… the most immediate effect was that it seemed as if I had multiple pairs of eyes, hands and feet.

I stood up and took a step, before tripping over my own feet and falling down again. The sense of “expansion” of myself from a single individual to being part of a larger “group” would take some getting used to.

I got up again, and gingerly took a few steps. My head seemed to clear quickly and I could feel myself re-adjusting.

“[You’ll get used to it quickly enough,]” D'ar'Beth’s voice echoed in my head.

I looked at her quizzically, as I realised that there was something different about her. She seemed to be more than before.

“[What’s different about you?]” I asked her.

“[Nothing,]” she replied “[the real question is what’s different about you.]”

“[What do you mean? It’s just the Sword Dance that seems to have lingered?]”

“[No. It’s a lot more than that. You {taste} like a new hatchling.]”

“Hatchling?” I queried aloud, '”What the hell does that mean?”

“[It’s not important now. You need to focus on our immediate needs. When we are safe and secure, then we can have a long talk about what has happened.]”

“[I’ll hold you to that,]” I told her, still puzzled by what she had implied. In the background to her mental words I got the sense of what looked/felt like large wings sheltering a clutch of eggs. All I could relate it to was an eagle sitting on it’s nest.

I decided to follow D'ar'Beth’s advice and turned to the immediate situation. Now that I had had some time to adjust, I could separate out  what aches and pains were mine, and which belonged to others in the Finger. I made a quick check and realised I could pretty much disregard the various cuts and bruises on my own body. There were a few more serious wounds on some of the others though, with, I suddenly realised, a missing arm.

As I realised that, another realisation struck me. It wasn’t just my Finger with me, but that of Desrae, and it was her arm that was missing.

Chapter 38: Break Out

I sent D'ar'Beth a mental query, “[What now?]”.
“[There is something wrong with this whole situation. You cannot surrender,]” she answered.
S’Alor chimed in with a short “[Agreed]”.
For the first time since the battle started, I realised that I had given S’Alor no thought at all, and I felt vaguely ashamed.
“{Amusement}{Pleasure in the Hunt/Kill} [Watch for me. I will make a path for you,]” S’Alor added.
I shivered mentally at the sheer atavistic pleasure that came through the link to the large cat, and let the Finger know that they should be prepared to break out if the opportunity came.
We fought on for a few minutes, although it started to feel as if it was longer than that as our bodies started to tire. I felt a sudden lessening of the pressure from the one side and noted on my Mental Map that S’alor was approaching from that side.
A huge roar suddenly attracted the attention of the warriors facing us, and I smiled as I realised that S’Alor was making his presence felt. I pulled the Finger in tighter to me and we started moving in S’Alor’s direction.
It took some time and a lot of effort, but with S’Alor joining us, we eventually broke free of thick of the fight and started to run. There were a few individual pursuers, but we cut them down and broke completely free. Shortly afterwards, we were joined by D'ar'Beth, who emerged from behind a small ridge and fell in with the rest of the Finger.
“[Far enough,]” D'ar'Beth finally let me know. For the first time since the ambush had been sprung, I let the Sword Dance drop, and the fatigue came rushing in like the water breaking free from a collapsing dam. I managing to get the Finger to move into positions of all-round defence and then allowed my body to drop down onto the sand. I could feel that all my reserves had been burnt up and I wouldn’t be able to do anything active for some time.
D'ar'Beth examined me critically for a few seconds, then commented, “[Yes. You need the time to recover. S’Alor and I will keep watch. You rest and I will wake you in time or if anything happens.]”

Chapter 37: First Battle

At first I couldn’t see it, but after a few seconds I felt a slight mental nudge from D'ar'Beth. The confusion of the fight clicked into focus and I started to see a pattern forming out of the chaos. The few seconds pause was sufficient, however, for the attackers of the column to charge us and while I was still processing the information, my Finger came into contact with a real enemy for the first time.

I found that while I fell instantly into the full gestalt of the Sword Dance, having D'ar'Beth joining in made me able to split my attention. I was multi-tasking on a level I had never thought possible, focusing on my own fight, managing the Finger in the fight as a group and also able to observe the broader battle and think critically about what was happening.

Our opponents were armed in almost the exact same manner as we were, with long swords, but their appearance otherwise was a little disturbing. They looked like men just like us, except that they seemed to be distorted somehow… there was something just not quite right about them. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the precise differences, I just knew that they were there.

We seemed to be very evenly matched in individual skill, but there were a lot more of them then there were of us. Within a few minutes, it became clear to me that our biggest advantage was in the fact that we were fighting as a true team, that the Sword Dance had added a qualitive advantage that was proving superior to their quantative one, and there were already a large number of our enemies who were clearly out of the fight while we had yet to sustain a single major injury.

The sounds and sights of this fight though were horrific, and I knew that the gruesome injuries that were being inflicted had the potential to haunt my dreams for a long time to come.

Those thoughts were somehow distant from my feelings though as I started to glory in the fight itself, the clash of blades, the physical exertion, the glory of the Sword Dance and the way that it was fast becoming the tightest bond that we had achieved yet.

Each member of the Finger was fighting the warrior to their immediate front,  and yet there was a constant situational awareness that allowed each one to act as the shield for their comrades to each side.

I was becoming lost in the immediate fight, until I got another nudge from D'ar'Beth, and forced myself to think about the larger picture.

The column had been ambushed from both flanks simultaneously, and now that I looked, it was obvious that they had built themselves hides by burrowing into the ground and emerging on some signal. It was still a puzzle how they had managed to avoid the mental probing that had become such an instinctive part of our Sword Dance as we built a Mind Map, but that problem would have to wait for a later time. I noticed though that the “dead spots” that S’Alor had pointed out might have been the indicators of their presence.

What had truely concerned D'ar'Beth was the fact that this battle contained an ambush within the ambush.

The column had been attacked from within its own lines and the main column had fallen back into the center where they were defending themselves fiercely, but there was an outer ring of attackers who were now emerging to press those of us who had been screening the column on the flanks, and we were about to be pinned between the two forces.

I contacted Hand Evans and Desrae and warned them about the danger, and then started trying to extricate Finger from the battle. Breaking contact was exceptionally difficult as the enemy warriors pressed us hard and moving backwards put us on the back-foot both figuratively and literally.

I started pulling the finger in from the flanks to create a circle rather than the extended line that we had been in and that seemed to help, although my Mind Map now showed me that we were definitely surrounded completely, and from what I could sense, there were very few of the other flanking Fingers who were still effective combat forces.

Our briefing during training had been that if we were ever in a hopeless situation, that we should rather surrender as the protocol was that prisoners would be stripped of their weapons and have to give their parole not to fight for a period of time. I was starting to think that this was what I was going to have to do, but at the first hint of this thought I got a very clear message of [NO!] from D'ar'Beth.

Chapter 35 - Ambush

When I got to the HQ area in the center of the laager, I was very pleased to be able to greet the other Finger leaders that I knew; especially those that had been part of my training Finger.

Desrae and I stood together in companionable silence while we waited to see what was going on.

It didn't take long for all the Finger leaders to arrive, but Hand Evans was visibly impatient with the stragglers.

"All right people," Hand Evans began, "we're on the road at last. The delay in town was unfortunately necessary for us to make final preparations for the journey. I know that all of you have been wondering just what the huge rush was, and there have been all sorts of rumors flying around. The rumors have it half right. The fact is that the Fists of our Fight have been ambushed and decimated by an unexpected enemy force. Losing a tenth of their number forced them to retreat to a stronghold where they are currently besieged.

"After the initial ambush, the Fight has lost another two thirds of its strength, and they're barely holding on, waiting for the relief column, that's us, to arrive."

"The castle that they are occupying is some distance from here. At our current pace, it would take us about two weeks to get there, which we don't think is good enough, it has to be faster. We have no idea whether they can hold out long enough to wait for us and are concerned that either their food and water will run out or the defenses will be over-run."

Hand Evans paused to take a sip of water and took the time to look around the circle, meeting the gaze of each of us in turn. I got the definite impression that we were being evaluated against some internal checklist of criteria and that our taskings would be delivered as a consequence of that evaluation. I soon discovered that I wasn't far wrong.

Hand Evans continued on to explain that we would be leaving the support personnel behind with the wagons, and would move on foot as rapidly as possible. He then proceeded to issue instructions for the various fingers. I found that we were tasked with being part of the defensive screen.

The formation that Hand Evans chose was the main group marching in column of route, three abreast, with two screening formations in what I thought of as echelon left and right. This was basically two lines forming an arrow-head shape. My finger was assigned to the front left of the formation.

After Hand Evans had finished his briefing, I walked slowly back to my finger, chatting to Desrae as we walked. As it turned out, her Finger would be working with mine as the other part of the line. We decided that I would coordinate the two fingers and Desrae would keep an eye out on our back-trail. With those details sorted out, I filled Desrae in on the details of some of the strange things that had happened since we had last spoken. I didn't tell her specifically about the archery equipment, just hinted at it when I told her about D'ar'Beth's behavior.

"[What do you think she is, Rupert?]" Desrae asked, intrigued.

"[Funny you should ask it that way. What instead of Who I mean. Proves to me that you feel something along the lines of what I do about her.]"

"[Maybe I'm just picking up a {taste} from you when you talk about her?]" Desrae speculated.

"[Maybe. See what you think when you actually meet her though. What really intrigues me is that she feels as if she is much denser ... more ... than what see seems at first. On top of that, we weren't told about Dwarves or anything else like that, and there has been a serious lack of information on a lot of other important issues.]"

"[What issue is it that's really bothering you?]"

"[Well, this has all been really fun, and I've allowed myself to be swept along on the tide of events, but there are some fundamentals that have been skipped. It suddenly occurred to me during the briefing; what happens if you die?]"

"[Shit. That's true. No-one's ever told us.]"

"[That's not the only thing, but it is pretty crucial. I think we've been operating on the assumption that we were pretty much invulnerable. Reading between the lines though it seems as if those who died weren't miraculously resurrected, which is kinda what I had been imagining.]"

"[That's true. I think we need to keep concerns like that to ourselves though until we have answers we can give to our fingers, you agree?]"

"[Yes, definitely. Anyway, here we are. Let me introduce you around.]"

I called the Finger together and introduced them to Desrae before starting to brief them on what we would be doing as part of the march starting the next day. Desrae confirmed silently to me that she felt the same sense of 'more' about D'ar'Beth's mental presence.

Once I had briefed my Finger, I went with Desrae while she briefed hers. Once both were briefed, we split up again and I returned to my interrupted rest. I didn't have much time left before reveille and I wanted to get as much rest as possible.

Chapter 34: Column of Route

I had, as usual, a whole lot of questions that I wanted answers to. Also as usual, circumstances forced me to have to be patient before I got them.

I was hoping and expecting to be able to question D'ar'Beth once we were back at the Inn, but when we arrived there, we found Hand Evans and a number of the other Fingers all waiting for us.

D'ar'Beth sent me a quick message of “[Later]” before we split up to fetch our kit.

No more than ten minutes later, we were formed up in a column and moving through the streets of the port town. As we wound between the buildings, other Fingers came out to join us and by the time we reached the Eastern town gate, it looked as if everyone was there.

We passed through the gate under the watchful eyes of the Town Guard, and I got the very clear impression that they were very relieved to see us go. I didn't understand that as I assumed that in the event of an external attack, they would have welcomed the support that our assistance could provide. I figured that they were probably more concerned with having to fight against us, and in the close confines of the town, I could imagine that would be a very bloody and destructive fight indeed.

Once outside the walls, I noticed a group of wagons waiting for us. The were hitched to what passed for Oxen in this place, and manned by members of the "Elves"; related to those in the training center if their facial features were anything to go by.

As we passed them by, they swung into position in the center of our column, where we split up make room for them. I was soon clear that the pace of our march would be determined by the top speed of the beasts of burden; restricted to a crawl in other words.

It didn't take long to settle into the rhythm of the march. The road was fairly good: gravel, but very well planned. It followed the natural contours of the ground, winding around natural obstacles and staying relatively flat. Not that there was much variation in the terrain at first; the coastal lowlands stretched out for what looked like at least a days travel before we would start the climb to the escarpment, just visible as foothills on the horizon.

Once we were properly settled into the march, S'Alor ranging widely to the side, and the rest of the Finger walking in two files, one on either side of the road, I decided to tackle D'ar'Beth.

“[So, do you intend keeping me in the dark, or will you do me the courtesy of explaining the contents of that pack on your back?]” I asked her, doing my best to restrict my mental sending to the most private mode possible.

“[I can explain a bit, but not all secrets are mine to tell,]” she replied.

“[Please,]” I answered, “[tell me what you can.]”

“[This world was created to act as a battleground, just as you were told, and there were certain rules put in place to ensure that the battles here were manageable. You and your kind are very recent arrivals, and as far as what your kind has dealt with so far, they have told you the truth. The problem is that there are both remnants of previous waves of warrior races, as well as individuals of other races that haven't taken an interest before, who have started getting active again.]”

“[You mean like S'Alor?]” I asked.

“[Yes. He is a very interesting addition to the mix. I'm quite certain that you have no idea as to his true nature or stature.]”

“[I'm not sure I understand what you mean about that. It seems pretty clear to me.]”

“[Well, yes. That just proves my point. Your kind has been on War World for just about five hundred of your years and about one hundred in local time. War World itself has been operating for over ten thousand local years. There are lots of old secrets here, some right in front of you.]”

I looked at her when she said that, and saw she was grinning at me. I tried to sort through the various layers of meaning that I could sense lay behind that remark, and decided to stick with the most obvious.

“[So tell me about the archery equipment...]”

“[Have you ever tested the concept of the shield against anything?]” D'ar'Beth asked nodded when she saw my head shake. “[I thought not. I must admit to being a little surprised that you didn't follow up on your doubts, but only a little. What's happened is that your kinds battles have been limited. You have all bought into the same myths. If you are facing an enemy that believes the same things you do, then it's easy to perpetuate the myths. The reality is that the shields are vulnerable, just as the people who generate them are vulnerable. There are many ways that I could think of to crack the concentration of a Finger or Hand, or to take them by surprise, and then the arrows would have no barrier to success. The largest problem is this desire for set-piece battles. I get the sense that it appeals to your human sensibilities in some way. I think it's ridiculous, mere posing, although I know it has been very effective as a means to decide issues clearly for those using War World for its intended purpose. The problem is that things are changing.]”

“[Everything you say just calls up more questions. You refer to us as 'you humans' which confirms for me that you aren't what you seem, and the way you talk, I can't help thinking you are a lot older than you look. Why are you here, with us I mean as well as why you are on War World itself?]”

“[I'm one of those remnants I was talking about, and you're correct, I am a lot older. Just how much is something I'll keep to myself a while longer. I haven't involved myself with any of the conflicts for a long time.]”

“[Why now then?]”

“[Every so often, someone gets clever. They think they can manipulate events on War World to suit themselves, or even worse, to sell guaranteed results. Something of the sort seems to be happening now. That's why I'm involved.]”

“[But why with use, with me?]”

“[You haven't realised it, but you know that mental map of yours?]”

“[Yes...]”

“[When you get to a certain level of ... skill ... then the details on the map start to show you things ... Lines of influence, centers of power and sometimes, potential. You are one of those.]”

“[I'm confused. One of which?]”

“[A potential center of power. There is also a very interesting web of lines of influence building up around you. That's unusual to say the least. You've been here hardly any time at all, and you have met very few of the people with power, but a surprisingly high number considering.]”

I kept quiet for a while, mulling over what D'ar'Beth had told me. Being on the march left a lot of time for introspection, which I found I needed a lot more of here than I had at home. That was probably because I had to find my feet within a completely new frame of reference.

As we marched, I noticed that we had covered a fair distance, and the foothills had grown to be looming mountains on the horizon. The sun setting turned it into a chocolate box scene which I simply admired.

The command came down to turn off the road and we set up camp for the night. The wagons were circled to form a laager and sentry duty assigned with the minimum of fuss.

Each Finger was assigned a portion of the circumference where we had to sleep and guard. Once those details were settled, we ate the trail rations that were distributed from the wagons. We were forbidden fires and told to maintain silence. I got the sense that these were just drills with no real reason, which I could forgive as it was good practice for when it was really necessary.

I was already settled and ready to sleep, received a call to join the other Finger leaders for an Order Group meeting, so it was with some reluctance the I got up and headed for the wagons.

Chapter 33: Market

S'Alor decided that he didn't need the attention that he would receive going out into the town, so he sprawled out on the floor in front of the fire-place.

I was very curious to see what the town looked like, and to meet some of the local people. There had been no exposure to anyone other than the people we had been training with, and now the very intriguing people I had met at the Dragon's Wing Inn.

The first thing that struck me was that the town was clean. From my reading about the medieval towns in history, I expected it to really stink; with raw sewage in the streets and rubbish disposed of by dumping wherever it was convenient. The fact that this wasn't the case was a huge relief. There were a lot of very interesting smells, but these were from the various enterprises that we passed along the way. As we entered the market square, I was struck by the smell of spices and food, and our first stop was at a small stall that sold some unidentifiable meat 'in-a-bun' and I couldn't help having a quiet internal chuckle at the thought of what Terry Pratchett would say about that.

Once we all had something to eat, we started browsing through the market D'ar'Beth soon got impatient with us, and hurried us along. She led us down an alley that led off the market proper. All the shops and stalls dealt in weapons and armour in some form. I got side-tracked immediately by the various blades on display, and had to suffer D'ar'Beth's displeasure.

Suitably chastised, I hurried after her along with the rest until she turned into a dingy shop halfway down the alley.

I had to duck my head to avoid getting dinged by the various swords and maces hanging from the ceiling and it took a few minutes before my eyes could adjust to the poor light in the shop. A wizened old man was sitting behind a counter on a high stool, peering near-sightedly to see who had invaded his shop.

"Aah, D'ar'Beth So good to see you again," he exclaimed suddenly as he spotted her in the gloom. "What can I help you with today?"

"Well met Bathar. We are going journeying and my I want to set my friends here up with some of your speciality items," she replied quietly.

Bathar smiled at her then screeched at a young boy to close the door. Once he was satisfied that our privacy was assured, he clambered off his stool and a cabinet behind the counter. He reached in and pulled out something that looked like a bundle of rags. He laid it on the counter and unravelled the cloth to expose six finely crafted wood-and-sinew bows.

I was startled at the sight, as I had thought that there were no 'projectile' weapons on War World having believed what our instructors had told us.

"Those look beautiful Bathar. You have the arrows to go with them?" D'ar'Beth asked.

"Of course," Bathar replied, removing a larger bundle from his cabinet. When he unravelled that, it revealed sheaf of metal-tipped arrows.

"[Don't say anything until we are alone. Just go along with me for now, ]" D'ar'Beth sent to all of us. No-one had made any move to say a word, all of us being too shocked by this sudden revelation to know what to say.

D'ar'Beth negotiated a price quietly with Bathar, while I turned over this new development in my mind. If my guess about D'ar'Beth's nature was correct, she had been around for a long time and had a lot of experience. If she thought that we needed projectile weapons, then there must be a reason for it. I started considering how this idea fit into the information that we had received so far.

I had been uneasy with a number of the things that we had been told during training, and the concept of projectile weapons had been one of them. I had bought into the idea of the Finger generating a shield as part of the mental tools that we had learnt, but remembered being uneasy at the time about what would happen if someone did use weapons like these when we didn't have the shield operative.

D'ar'Beth finished up with Bathar and we all greeted him as we left the shop. D'ar'Beth was in much less of a hurry after that and we strolled around the market for over an hour, picking up some travel food and a few items that would make our lives more comfortable while on the road. These were mostly common sense, but one thing I hadn't considered was salt. D'ar'Beth and Greta both recommended that we each buy a large packet of salt as they said we would need it more than we thought and it wasn't easily available away from the markets on the coast. Greta pointed out that it was essential for preserving any meat that we hunted for ourselves, especially when it was not possible or wise to either stay in one place for too long or to build fires that could announce our presence in an area.

When I protested that we would be with the wagon train of the Hand, D'ar'Beth pointed out something that I should have thought of; that if we were used as scouts, we could be out of contact with the column for long periods of time. We bought the salt and a few other things and eventually made our way back to the Inn.

Chapter 32: Leaving the Dragon's Wing Inn

I slept very well that night. For some reason I felt safe and secure in the Inn, and S’Alor reaffirmed my feeling but wouldn’t go into any specifics when I questioned him. I got the very definite impression though that it had to do with the presence of D’ar’Beth. She was definitely more than she seemed.

I awoke refreshed, with a new energy and a desire to see what the day would bring. I only realized when I thought about it that the previous few days a weight had been building in my mind; a foreboding about the future. I wasn’t sure how or what it had lifted, but I was glad it had.

I got cleaned up and, after making sure the others were up and in the process of getting ready, went down for breakfast.

Greta was on duty again, and after greeting me pleasantly, went bustling off to get me my morning meal. The others trickled down one by one, and each seemed content to sit in quiet contemplation once they had all finished eating.

Just as I was starting to wonder whether we would be spending another day or two in the inn, the door opened and Hand Evans entered. He looked vaguely surprised to when I greeted him, and I was curious why when I had thought that he had come to the Inn to collect us, or to task us in some way. After greeting me, he went to the counter and spoke in low tones to Greta, stood and waited for a while. In a few minutes, Daffid came out from the kitchen area and the two of them chatted for a while in quiet tones. I was watching them carefully, as I realized that Hand Evans had some other business in the Inn, and after a few minutes of conversation he looked startled, and turned to stare at me. A few minutes later he left Daffid and came to join us at our table.

“You seem to manage to always be around when important things are happening Cy,” Hand Evans commented quietly, once he had taken the first sips of his warm drink. “How does that happen, do you think?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I responded, and my puzzlement must have been convincing as he relaxed slightly and leant back in his chair.

“You have no idea?” he asked.

“No. All I know is that we were told to stay in this Inn over-night, which we did. Now I’m waiting for further orders. I thought that was why you were here, to tell the truth. Obviously that’s not the case.”

“Well, it wasn’t. That’s changed. Daffid tells me that you met with one of his other guests last night …”

“Yes. With D’ar’Beth. What about her?”

“She’s the reason I’m here. She has agreed to travel with us when we leave here. When we first requested her company, she refused point blank, but then she inexplicably changed her mind. Now I’ve been told that she will travel with you and your Finger.”

“Oh. That’s a surprise. Why with us?”

“She apparently approves of you. She’ll be accompanied by Daffid’s daughter, Greta. You are to treat them as guests, but also as part of your finger, if that makes sense.”

“No, actually, it doesn’t. I’m getting the idea that it doesn’t make any difference what I think about this though, what with you being so cagy. Isn’t there anything more you can tell me about her?”

“You can ask D’ar’Beth anything you wish. What she chooses to tell you is her business. It’s certainly none of mine. I would like to caution you though; be very careful in your dealings with her.”

“Oh, I’ll be careful all-right. I already realised that she is more than she appears.”

“More than you think,” Hand Evans replied enigmatically, then he tossed off the last of his drink and stood. “You have the rest of the day to get your stuff together. Do some shopping in the market and get what you think you need. We are getting all the logistics sorted out, and negotiating things like rights of way for our journey. We expect to be able to move out early tomorrow morning. You’ll get the call. Expect it soon after midnight. Ok?”

“Yes. That sounds fine.”

Hand Evans tuned on his heel and left, rather abruptly I thought, but then figured that he would have many arrangements to make so I suppose it was a little egocentric of me to think so.

Once he was gone, we sat around a while speculating on what we had just been told. Greta came over to our table to clear up, and I asked her whether she was ready to travel.

“I’ll have my kit packed and be ready. You won’t need to worry about me,” was her tart rejoinder.

Having been put firmly in my place by a woman, once again to S’Alor’s vast amusement, I decided that we needed to do some practice. I walked over to the counter and called Daffid to ask him if there was somewhere we could use, and he pointed me to a door to the Inn’s inner courtyard.

The Finger joined me and we started warming up. Within a few minutes, we were deeply into the Sword-Dance and I could feel that it had been a good decision, because it drew us together and energised us in a way as we flowed through the forms. After a while, I noticed that there were two others who had joined us, a little hesitantly at first, but quickly speeding up and integrating with the rest of the Finger. I noticed in an abstract way that it was Greta and D’ar’Beth. They didn’t know the exact forms that we were using, but had forms of their own, and I was able to push our forms to them easily enough.

Once we had worked through our normal forms, I picked up from great a tentative suggestion to use some of the forms she knew and I accepted gratefully, always keen to learn new things. It then became obvious that her forms were designed for a double-bladed axe, and had to be adjusted for our use with swords. It was quickly apparent why she had been a bit hesitant with our forms; she was wielding a pretty impressive axe and had been adapting our forms from the sword to the axe as she went along. I was very impressed, because that was not a trivial accomplishment, as I soon discovered trying to do the conversion in the other direction.

Greta was generous with her knowledge however, and I allowed her sense of her axe; the way it moved; what muscles she used to heft it; how she placed her feet and how she used her whole upper-body to make the axe sing through the air; suffuse the Dance and imprint itself on my memory.

D’ar’Beth was part of the Sword Dance, but she seemed to hold herself aloof. There with us, but rather as if she was an observer and not a participant. I got the feeling that she was quite amused with it all, although there was no malice; rather a sense of affection. She let nothing about herself slip into the union that we created, so we didn’t learn anything from her. If S’Alor hadn’t been so reassuring, I would have been very suspicious of her and especially of what her motives were.

Once we had wound down out of the Dance, I took the opportunity to examine Greta’s axe. It was a fearsome thing, but beautiful; beautiful in the way that good design is beautiful. The axe had absolutely no decorations on it whatsoever; it was simply a plain steel head and hasp, with a leather-wrapped handle. When I gave it a few practice swings, I could feel that it was perfectly balanced. Most of Greta’s forms were for slicing movements through the air, keeping the head of the axe moving at all times. The axe had a spike sticking out of the head though, almost an extension of the hasp, which could be used in a formidable stabbing attack.

After complimenting Greta on her axe, I turned to D’ar’Beth.

“I hear you’re accompanying us on our trip?”

“Yes, your leaders asked me to go along, and I didn’t make up my mind to join with them. I changed my mind after meeting you and your delightful companions,” D’ar’Beth answered.

I knew she was really referring to S’Alor. She didn’t seem to be too concerned about me questioning her, so I decided to push it a little.

“Why would my ‘leaders’ invite you along? I find the whole thing a little strange.”

“Oh, they know that I’ll contribute to the fighting strength I suppose,” she answered with a little smile playing over her lips.

I suspected that her reply had been a little disingenuous, but I got the sense that pushing any further wasn’t going to get me very far, and might actually cause problems that I didn’t need.

“Ok. I suppose we’ll discover more about that as we go. Is there anything that you need to do to get ready for the journey?’ I asked her.

“No. I’m ready. I would suggest though, if I may, that you ensure that you ensure you have provisions of food and water of your own and don’t rely on the Fight to provide everything for you. There are some stalls in the market which will supply you with some very good travel rations. Ask for ‘Way-Bread’. That’s good.”

“Ok, thanks for the advice. We’ll do so.”

With that, we all re-entered the Inn and I lead the Finger out through the main door to explore the town a little and search for the market-place.

Chapter 31: The Dragon's Wing Inn

Pushing open the door proved to be anti-climatic. The door opened directly into a common room, with a few tables scattered around. On the left was a huge fireplace, maybe better described as a hearth, and the fire burning there was obviously intended to roast what looked like some kind of pig.

"Obelix would like this place," Bridget commented, making me wonder briefly if she had developed an ability to read my mind.

On the left of the room, running the length of the wall, was a bar counter. We stood for a few seconds, allowing our eyes to adjust to the gloom before there was a disturbance in the bead curtained doorway behind the bar, which parted to admit a heavily bearded man.

I stared at him for a few moments without speaking because something about the way he looked struck me as just wrong.

"[He's a Dwarf]," Brad interjected, making me feel relieved because I hadn't been able to place what was wrong. As soon as he said that, everything clicked into focus for me and I realised that this was not like someone from Earth suffering from 'dwarfism', but rather someone who was completely in proportion, who was in fact a heavily muscled man, but was just short.

I had to take two steps towards the bar counter before I was able to see far enough over it to realise that the entire floor behind the counter was raised. The man, dwarf that is, was about four feet tall. The platform was raised far enough so that just over a foot of his height was visible over the counter. It was obviously designed to make it comfortable for him to work the counter.

"Good Eve to you, Gentle Folk, and welcome to the Dragon's Wing," he greeted us. Then I saw a look of shock on his face as he stared past me. "What in the name of the Goddess is THAT doing here?"

I turned to look where he was pointing and saw that it was at S'Alor, who was obviously interested in the smells wafting from the roasted pig, and had wandered out from behind the rest of us to investigate. When I turned back to the dwarf, I could see that his initial shock had turned to determination. He was now holding a double-bladed axe. I paused for a moment to admire it, while I considered what a formidable weapon it might make in competent hands, and the hands holding it certainly appeared to be competent.

"Sorry to startle you, but that is just S'Alor," I tried to reassure him, "one of our companions."

"A companion, you say? One of the new terrors of the forest. You certainly pick strange companions."

"Even so, that is what he is. We are here to stay the night," I said, trying to get the conversation back on track. "I have a letter here." I stepped forward and handed the letter I had been given to the Dwarf.

The dwarf seemed reluctant to relax his vigilance, never mind the death-grip he had on his axe, and shifted his gaze to me in a manner that told me that our whole party had been evaluated as being on probation. We might have stood there in that Mexican-standoff for a long time, but just then, a voice interrupted us.

"Oh Daffid, they are fine. The beautiful cat seems friendly enough. Why not put down your toy and welcome our guests properly?"

I whipped my head around at the first sound of this voice. I was utterly captivated: I had heard the phrase 'dulcet tones' before, and never really understood it. This voice epitomised it for me.

I had to hunt for the source of the voice for a few seconds, and then saw the hem of a dark blue dress that was caught by the light from the fire. Once I had that visual clue, I was able to make out a shadowy form standing on the bottom step of a staircase that I hadn't noticed. 'The staircase must lead to the upper levels of the Inn,' I thought to myself.

"Good Evening, my lady," I greeted the woman, "I must thank you both for you timeous intervention as well as your acceptance of my companion."

"It is of no matter," she replied matter-of-factly, "not everyone relies on outer appearance to judge character."

At first, I thought she was warning me that she would have some horrible disfigurement that she was referring to, but as I thought that, she stepped down and moved out of the shadows.

My first thought was how tall she was; a total contrast to the still muttering dwarf. At a guess, she was just over six feet and five inches. Tall in any context. She had honey blond hair tied up in two braids, one on each side of her head, and reminded me of nothing less than one of Wagner's Valkries. Her face was all hard planes and sharp angles and did nothing to detract from my first impression of her as the Über warrior women. While her long flowing dress was beautiful, and complimented her figure perfectly, I couldn't suppress a touch of disappointment that she wasn't dressed in some sort of Warrior Maiden's outfit, with a steel bra and a wisp of fabric around her hips.

"I'm sure you're right, Milady," I responded once I could reign in my thoughts and find my voice. "I am Cy Peters, and these are my companions," I said and proceeded to introduce them all.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, “you can call me D’ar’Beth.”

“[amusement]” came from S’Alor.

“[What’s tickled you, S’Alor?]” I asked him.

“[What she said about ‘outer appearance’,]” he answered cryptically.

“[Oh?]” I queried him.

“[Later,]” was all I got in response.

“I will leave you to the tender mercies of Daffid. I am sure he can settle you in quite comfortably. Maybe once you have settled and relaxed a bit, we can have a chat,” D’ar’Beth said before gliding elegantly back up the stairs.

As I watched her disappear, I belatedly decided to take notice again of my mind map. It had finally started to recover from the sensory overload that the heavily populated town had provided. I looked to see whether I could follow D’ar’Beth and was not too surprised that there was something different about the way she looked in my map. She seemed to be a denser presence than any of the other people, and I decided that I needed to take note of what S’Alor had said about appearances. She was very clearly more than what she appeared.

I turned to Daffid, who had emerged from behind the bar counter, and asked him, “Who is D’ar’Beth?”

“She is who she is. What she is, is her own business which she will tell you or not, just as she decides. If you will follow me …” he replied.

“I shrugged and picked up my kit and followed Daffid as he led the way up the stairs. The rest of my Finger followed along behind me, peeling off in twos as Daffid allocated us rooms.

Once I had dumped my kit in the room I was to share with Brad and S’Alor, I made my way to the communal bathroom at the end of the corridor, where I was delighted to find copper baths supplied with hot water. Once I had bathed and put on clean clothes, I went down to the common room below.

As I descended into the room, I noticed that a few of the tables were occupied, and realised that people were probably gathering for supper and the evening’s entertainment. I selected a table near to the fireplace that I thought would accommodate the whole Finger. S’Alor accompanied me closely and slipped under the table, out of the way.

When Daffid noticed me sitting there, he waved at me and a few minutes later I saw a short woman approaching the table. She looked like a female twin of Daffid, so I guessed she was part of his family.

“Greetings, I am Greta Daffid’son, and I will serve you this evening. You can have the house soup if you wish, but the roast pork is the main meal we are serving this evening.”

“Thank you Greta, I think I’ll have the pork,” I answered her, “and my companions all the same as they arrive, please.”

“With pleasure,” Greta said and turned and left.