Chapter 4
It was raining. The weather had warmed a bit, the snow had melted, and it was now raining. It had been raining, for most of the day. Roland was miserable. He had gotten on the barge, and rode it to the Kennersy River. There, he changed to a south bound barge, and rode it to its end.
Still, Haflor said they had to go south, always south. Now with the slightly warming weather, the melting snow, and the rain; the roads were getting very bad indeed. In fact, it got so bad that Haflor had to work some sort of magic to give the horse purchase on the muddy road.
Roland passed bogged down wagons, and people just sitting on the roadside waiting for the roads to improve. Still, he pressed on. He wished he were back in the city. He had exchanged some of the gems he had been carrying in the city of Three Rivers.
It was a fairly large city, with merchants everywhere. Because of its location on three converging rivers, it benefited from shipping, and transshipping. Barges docked and wagons rolled into and out of the city, constantly.
Roland had gone to several gem merchants, and had sold several gems to three different merchants. So he was flush with money. He had taken a southern barge, and rode it until the river swung sharply east. There, he and his horse had gotten off.
The roads this far from the center of the kingdom were just dirt tracks or dirt roads, which were now mud. It was obvious that no work had been done on them. No drainage ditches dug, no nothing. Water was as high as his horses belly in some places.
Still they pressed on southward. Haflor finally admitted that his race had long learned how to change bodies at will. His race was more a psychic type of leech, than a blood and bone being.
They had been born in swamps that were no more. They had abilities that allowed them to move from body to body. Roland expressed a curiosity as to what they had originally looked like.
Haflor said Roland wouldn't like it, and tried to change the subject. Roland however, kept at him, until Haflor sent him a mental picture of what Haflor's race had originally looked like. It was a bit disgusting, bit not as bad as Haflor had thought. They looked like very large leeches, with many tentacles.
Somehow, in the far distant past, this race of giant leeches or slugs (with primitive arms and sensor laden tentacles) had developed the ability to move from their own bodies, to other people's bodies.
Of course. Wasn't Roland playing host to one, right this minute?
Not only was Haflor feeding Roland energy, but he was sending it to the horse as well. Since the horse was doing all the work, transporting, Haflor was keeping it fed with energy and the ability to move. If the horse was not comfortable, then at least it moved well over the disaster that was termed a road.
Haflor was getting excited. He communicated that they were getting close. Just a couple more days would put them very close indeed to the one for whom he searched. Roland was feeling relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He had gotten a good idea of what to expect when they came upon this mysterious person/entity. Haflor had a grievance with it/him/her, and was going to exact revenge.
Roland was the convenient body that it chose to inhabit during this dangerous outing. As they got closer to their prey, Roland became more nervous. After all, he was but 16, and had been raised to respect life.
To deliberately hunt someone... well, it seemed wrong. Sure, he hunted animals with his father, but that was normal. There was an order to the world, and an order of hunter and the hunted. Roland guessed this was a higher order of hunting, but to him it seemed excessive.
Still, he had made a deal, and he was stuck with it. Really, could he dislodge Haflor if Haflor didn't want to go? His only hope was to complete this agreement, and hope Haflor moved on, as he had promised to do.
The rain tapered off to a light drizzle. Roland was totally soaked, yet Haflor kept him moving. Finally Roland said he had to stop and rest. He said that the horse needed to rest, also. There was only so much that magic could do.
Haflor agreed, reluctantly. If they lost the horse, it would slow them down significantly. Roland kept a sharp eye out for a good spot to camp. Almost an hour later, he saw the perfect place.
It was a small rise, with enough trees standing to create a very nice shelter against the wind and the rain. It took him only twenty minutes before he had a place set up for himself. Next, he spent another twenty minutes finding enough dry bedding to sleep on. Everything was damp, but with his waterproofed ground cloth, it was comfortable enough.
Early the next morning, Roland heard a thrashing sound. It woke him. He sat up, and pulled on his boots. While it was not yet daylight, it was almost dawn. There was another sound, and a stifled "shhhh", sound. Uh oh, this didn't sound good.
Roland silently retrieved his bow, and strung it. He selected an arrow, and waited. His lumpy bedding made it appear that he was still lying in it. He didn't have long to wait. A figure appeared, and he heard a thunk as an arrow hit the bedding. He bit his lip, and waited.
A figure came out of the woods and said, "I got him. Let's get his stuff. Don't forget his pouch. He cashed in gems, and is walking around with a lot of money."
Another figure came out from a slightly different direction. The two walked cautiously towards Roland's bedding.
Roland took careful aim. He loosed an arrow at the man holding the bow. With a cry, the bowman fell. The other man turned swiftly, and started towards Roland's position. Roland grabbed another arrow, and fired it. It hit the man in the upper thigh. The man screamed in pain, and fell to the ground. Roland set another arrow against the bowstring, and waited... perhaps there was a third man?
The wounded man screamed and begged for help, and for Roland not to kill him. Roland ignored him. Haflor was silently congratulating Roland for his marksmanship. With a survivor, they could question him as to their purpose. Roland figured it was robbery plain and simple.
"Who are you and why did you attack me?" Roland asked the now moaning man on the ground.
"Please, help me!" gasped the man on the ground, holding his wounded leg.
"Why should I help you? Your friend shot into my bedding, thinking it was me. I would be the one dead on the ground, now, if I hadn't heard you two as you approached," Roland told him.
"My brother is dead? NOOO!!! I was supposed to watch over him. Dad told me to watch him," the guy on the ground whimpered.
"Well, you watched him shoot me. Did someone tell you to shoot at me?" Roland asked, having been prodded by Haflor.
"No. We saw you in Three Rivers. We watched you go to several gem shops, and we checked. You sold gems. You got money," the man on the ground said between clenched teeth.
"Well, you got what you deserve as far as I am concerned. Your brother shot at me, I shot back. You went for me, I shot you. We're even far as I am concerned," Roland said.
He listened to the moans of pain coming from the man on the ground. It was actually making him feel queasy. He silently asked Haflor if he could put the guy to sleep or something. Haflor gave a mental snort. Roland then said he would like to get his arrow back, but the guy's pain was distracting, and would Haflor please put the guy to sleep with magic?
So it was that Roland was able to remove his arrow from the wounded man, break his camp, and get a very early start on the road. Behind, he left one dead body, and one unconscious person. Haflor was still suspicious, but from the questioning, had to admit it was not likely they had been sent by his enemy.
Roland, with nothing to do, started questioning Haflor again about why he wanted revenge on this particular member of his race. With a mental sigh, Haflor relented and explained it.
"I was part of a circle of magic users. It was my job to hold the circles shield in place. Our circle consisted of four magic users. One did the attack spells, one defense spells, that was me, one did support for attack, and one did energy collection and distribution," Haflor said.
"Um, what's energy collection and distribution? I mean I sort of know what the words mean, but, well..." Roland asked hesitantly.
"When you work a circle, everyone starts out with what ever power they bring in with them. We were working an attack against another circle. We started to fail. My shields started to fail. We needed more energy.
"So, while I was putting everything I had into the shields, one member decided to use 'death energy'. 'Death energy' produces a huge amount of power. What I didn't know, was that the energy was going to come from me.
"I was stabbed, and almost all my energy stolen for the attack spell. I remember the shield going down, and Velarna sending a bolt of pure energy at the other circle. Their shield collapsed, and they were destroyed by the backlash.
"I did not volunteer to provide 'death energy'. I was murdered, and most of my energy stolen. If it had not been for my ring, and my sinking my consciousness into my seed, I would have been destroyed. I am here to claim vengeance for this," Haflor said grimly.
Roland could see it as if it was happening before him. He also felt the rage, the same rage that Haflor was feeling. With a shrug, he broke contact and started to watch the road around him. Hey! He BROKE contact! This was something he never had been able to do before. Well, this was a positive thing.
They traveled that day and talked off and on. Haflor was getting more and more distracted the closer he got to the source he was tracking. Roland double checked his weapons, and made sure they were handy.
"This is far enough. I need to make ready the spells of defense for your body. Take out my ring from the pouch and place it on your finger," Haflor instructed.
"Won't the other guy feel you doing this?" Roland asked.
"No. First, this place here has a natural protection. Second, I am keeping him from feeling me. Unless he knows to look, there is no reason for him to know I am here. Tomorrow, we take him," Haflor said.
For several hours, Roland felt magic as he had never felt it before. Well, in truth, he never had felt it before. He was fascinated with what was going on.
"Remember what I do. This is a quick lesson in defensive magics. While we were in Three Rivers, I saw examples of your people's magic. They have much to learn. When this is over, go back to my sarcophagus. My grimoire is located in a panel at the base of the head of my sarcophagus," Haflor told Roland.
Roland settled first his horse, then himself down for sleep. Sleep, though, eluded him. He was nervous about tomorrow's confrontation. There was a good possibility that he would die in the coming battle.
Roland opened his eyes and was surprised to notice it was dawn. He had never even felt himself going to sleep! He stretched and got up. He could... feel changes in himself. It was hard to explain, but he felt ready. He saw things with better clarity than ever before! He also felt like he was wearing a cloak of some sort, but it was not a physical cloak. It was a cloak of protection, and of hiding. He knew exactly what it did! How did that happen?
"I did it. I planted the information in you in case you need it. I opened the ability for magic in you. If I were you, when this is over, I would study magic. You will need to learn control. If you don't, it will get away from you, and you will do things without realizing that you are doing them," Haflor said, chuckling.
Roland saddled his horse after repacking his camp, and mounted. He pulled out onto the road, and started south. Shortly, he was riding through a small village. The person he was hunting (or Haflor was hunting) was still a little way to the south, but not that far away. He went through the village quickly.
He heard the sound of an ax, and shortly saw the quarry. Roland didn't recognize him, but Haflor did.
Roland pulled up, and dismounted. The man with the ax looked, and then looked again. He got a very surprised expression on his face.
"Asta Belon, voga shilat nor!" Roland's mouth said!
Translation: "So, we meet at last, scum!"
Or at least that was what came through to Roland, who was now a passenger in his own body! This had never happened before, and it went downhill from there.
The man with the ax gestured, and spoke a word. Something slammed into Roland. He felt it stopped by the cloak of magic that Haflor had made. Haflor responded with some sort of gesture himself, and the man in front of Roland staggered back.
There was no way the man was as ready for a magical fight with Haflor. Haflor spent hours, the day before, and apparently several days during the trip, readying Roland for protection.
Haflor struck with some sort of spell which sparkled. It caused the strange man extreme pain. He went to his knees. The man then cast some sort of spell which knocked Roland backwards. His body stumbled, and went down.
There was a flash/bang, as another spell exploded against Roland's cloak, and he felt incredible PAIN!
Edited by TeNderLoin