38 – Company by the Fire
Come the evening, with the sun sinking into the distant hills, I was walking through the streets with a hefty crate clutched in my hands. I’d bought two demijohns and then spent a portion of the day patrolling about, buying a few seeds and some alchemical reagents to help keep my soil vibrant and healthy.
It wasn’t a cheap shopping spree, but I’d brought with me a few gems from the west, and the local pawnbrokers had more in the way of money to offer me. Some of them had tried to cheat me, undervaluing the gems, doubtless taking me for some kind of fool that they could take advantage of. And, in such cases, a hard glare was enough to get the price back to something fair for both of us.
I even had some money left over after my spree. And if I got to selling my produce in Tiode, I could use that as a more steady stream of cash than the odd jobs I had been doing.
“Will we board in the city tonight?” Smoke asked as we worked through the central market street. By now the city was winding down, many merchants having closed their stalls for the day, and warm lantern light had risen up to ward off the encroaching darkness.
“No. I think we’ve spent enough time away from home. I’ll bring us back, or at least make much of the journey overnight.”
Part of me envied the more robust sorcerous arts. The lads who could turn into clouds of darkness, or beams of light, crossing great distances in the blink of an eye.
Still.. I was damn quick on my feet too.
We passed through the city gate, once more watched over by a litany of soldiers, but at least we weren’t accosted on the way out. And once we had passed far enough from Low Moon, walking one of the side roads that led further from the main road, I beckoned Smoke to hop atop the crate I was carrying. His weight added nothing to it.
“Hang on,” I said, adjusting the hefty box in my grasp. The demijohns clinked noisily inside.
“Of course, Father.”
I got to jogging, starting at a steady and human pace. Then, gradually, I gained speed once I was satisfied with the stability of the crate in my grasp. Soon I enough I was full on sprinting down the dirt road, so fast that the greenery on either side of me became an indistinct blur.
We crossed a considerable distance against the setting sun, and scarcely saw another traveller on those cold, lonesome roads as we backtracked the route we had taken. Once I reached the home of the witches I picked up speed even further, not waning to risk another damn ambush.
Soon the moon was high, and I was winding down in my speed when I heard the growl from Smoke’s stomach. “Ah. My apologies,” I said. “We still have a little dried meat left in the pack, but I reckon you deserve something fresh after the day we’ve had.”
“Father, you don’t need to-”
“Save it,” I said, grunting and briefly setting the crate down. “You’re getting fresh meat.”
In the dead of the night it would have been a challenge for a normal huntsman to find much of anything. For me it wasn’t particularly hard to find a boar and kill it, my sight being rather sharp in the darkness.
I dragged the corpse to the roadside, leaving it with Smoke and the crate, and quickly gathered some kindling. “Come on,” I said, motioning Smoke into a clearing devoid of grass. Not a glamorous campside, but I had had worse.
Smoke watched, perched atop the crate once I had brought it in, as I snapped my fingers and summoned a flashing ember. The wood caught alight, and I moved quickly to skin and clean the boar. Wasn’t long until I had a few chunks cooking over a makeshift spit, filling the clearing with a meaty scent and the sound of the flesh hissing and sizzling.
“Eat up,” I said, slicing a few of the cooked chunks loose and tossing them over. Smoke ate greedily, the sound filling the camp. Smoke may have had intelligence close to that of a human, but his animal traits were never too far behind.
Then, as we ate, there came the sudden sound of strings being thwanged. Like those of a lute, or at least that was the closest comparison I had to hand.
Smoke peered up, his eats flattening on the sides of his head. I watched from where I sat but did not move, not even as a lean figure in a shabby black robe merged from the growth He wore a straw hat, tattered in places, upon his head, and in his hands he carried what looked to be a lean, two-string lute with a boxy body.
“Hail, traveller. Apologies for intruding upon your camp, the light drew me in as a candle does a moth.” His skin was pale, his smile soft and almost disarming, but the shade of his hat concealed the top half of his face.
“I can’t decide where people walk. I suppose you can warm your bones, if you’d like. Though I’m surprised my companion didn’t scare you.”
The stranger chuckled. “Oh, well. Seeing as how you weren’t afraid by his company, I assumed him to be tame.” He bowed briefly to the hellcat. “I have seen many sights on my travel. A tame mountain cat would not be the oddest.”
He knelt by the fire, continuing to pluck at the strange instrument he wore. He seemed to sense my interest. “You are... from abroad, yes?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Ah, then this instrument is perhaps new to you too. We call it a shamisen. It is a favourite of the wandering bards for its light yet sturdy frame.” His slim fingers plucked the strings with uncanny quickness, filling the clearing with a harmonious tune. “Ah. Forgive this old man his foolishness. I haven’t given you my name, have I? Call me Kiri.”
He kept playing, the noise gradually growing in both volume and complexity. Smoke resumed eating, having already lost interest in the man.
“So you’re some manner of travelling bard?” I had a chunk of meat on the tip of my knife, lazily biting chunks from the hard grilled meat as I spoke.
“Oh yes. I have crossed the length and breadth of our fair Tsukio. From the Hook Bay, across the Silver Fields, all the way to the Duellist Cliffs. I do not consider myself a musician of any great repute, but certainly I have tales to tell.”
The thwanging of the strings continued. A low, almost-mesmerising rhythm that echoed through the trees.
“And you, friend?” he asked without looking up. “Westerners can be something of a rarity, outside the cities and larger ports at least. You must have some story to tell.”
“Oh yes, Kiri, I truly do,” I replied in a low voice.
“Do tell. Stories are the lifeblood of humanity, after all. Our true, greatest trait that separates us from the beasts.”
I gave a small laugh. “Well, I reckon that’s fair. Only, one thing... you’re trying to hypnotise me with that music of yours, aren’t you?”
The plucking came to an abrupt stop, Kiri jerking his shoulders in surprise. “Wha-... how did-”
“Hypnosis, illusions, magic that effects the mind, it doesn’t work on me. The burning magicka in my blood kinda... scorches at my head whenever someone tries it, burns those things away. But I’m still aware when people try it. So... what’s the gag?”
Kiri was silent for a time. Then his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Goodness, this is awkward.” He raised his hand, and finally I could see his eyes. Or, rather, where his eyes should have been. Instead he had an expanse of pale, waxy flesh covering where the sockets were supposed to be. He grinned broadly at me, exposing his massive incisors.
“Usually people only realise my intentions after I’ve taken my first bite of them.”