Chapter 4

Degra, Sparrow, and the large softskin who turned out to be called Joshua made their way along the road. Once Degra brought out her map to explain her journey, the Stone Nest turned out to be the goal of the two of them. However they gave it a different name, calling it the Border Castle or the Border Keep and cheerfully arguing about if it was really a keep or a castle.

As Degra had no idea what moats, vassals or fortifications might be, she just listened and tried to remember the interesting words.

TradeSpeak was a bastard language essentially created by the efforts of multiple species and cultures with multiple mouth shapes trying to find ways to share enough terminology to understand each other. Which meant that the grammar and the vocabulary was quite fluid.

Once Bite understood that at least these soft skins were friendly, he immediately came over to join the group and beg for food, or at least attempt to burrow into the wagon or cart (and that was another discussion) to see what might be found.

Surprisingly it was Sparrow who offered him some dried fruit, which he ate mostly to be polite, and some dried meat which she called jerky, which he ate with an enthusiastic appetite. Joshua was much more reserved. Odd, usually it was the elders who were more likely to be generous to younger, or at least smaller members of their groups.

Sparrow and Derga did send a considerable amount of time playing tunes. Translating the words of the various songs was a bit tricky. Trade tongue was not really meant to express angst longing for family, or horrific tales of bloody vengeance. For that matter Derga had some difficulty with the concept of a “Love Song” and was a little suspicious that Sparrow might have brought such a thing up as a joke or a trick.

She was dismayed to learn that it would take a full two days to reach Border Keep (she had decided to accept the larger softskin’s name for it, as he was likely the elder and the more knowledgeable).

As the brightness faded and darkness descended, the temperature dropped. Degra hadn’t always been glad of her cloak which had been somewhat hot in the warmth of the day, but now she found herself wishing it was longer.

Joshua pointed to an open area up ahead. “We made it.” He sounded pleased. “Always nice to have a good campsite.”

When he saw that Derga wasn’t familiar with the concept, he asked to see her map, and sure enough there was a little triangle shaped symbol that he assured her represented this waysite. It wasn’t much, just a small stone well, a three sided shelter with a roof so worn that lots of light would shine through, and a cleared area where a fire could be made.

As the darkness settled, he looked worried. “Usually there are more travelers. Safety in numbers, you know.”

He gathered brush and kindling and started a small fire in the pit that had clearly been maintained for that purpose. The fire brightened the area, and spread welcome warmth. All three of them crept closer and extended hands or talons to appreciate it.

As they sat. Derga’s stomach rumbled.

Joshua chuckled. “I see someone is hungry”

Embarrassed, Derga admitted. “I didn’t think it would be so far to Border Keep. I didn’t bring much in the way of supplies.”

“You shared your music with me,” Sorrow argued.

A rustle in the darkness, and a low growl interrupted them. A black shape slunk forward, and after a moment, two other dark shapes followed. They were larger than the goats, who both scrambled to hide under the cart. Degra was rather surprised that they fit.

Joshua rose smoothly to his feet. “Bowl bless it,” he muttered under his breath. Slowly he moved toward the cart. As he did so, he pulled out a sling and a handful of spiked stones that could not be natural.

Sparrow made a small squeaking sound, and with a shaky hand pulled a dagger.

Degra stood. The first one that had advanced, that was the pack leader. Deal with that one, and the rest would disperse. Lose to that one, and the pack would flow over them like a wave. The Kobold was not foolish enough to assume that the three beasts they could see were the only three present.

She held up a hand, weaving strands of power between herself and the leader of the beasts. “Hail Dazbog,” she called softly, “our pack seeks not to challenge, but to pass through.”

The wolves ears all perked up, and the leader padded a step closer. He growled, low enough and strong enough that she could hear it in her bones. Eventually he accepted the tendrils of power she had extended, and answered. “You are no true pack, and so we demand the toll of flesh.”

Degra growled back. There was no showing weakness to these creatures. “No.” She spoke simply. Then she reached out along the tendrils of power she had spun, and that the pack leader had accepted.

She made a fist, pulling on the strands of power, pouring her will into what she wove. The huge wolf whined, suddenly unable to growl, unable to open his mouth. Degra felt sick. This was a terrible thing to do to a living thing, but if the choice was to torment and kill or be eaten, that was no choice at all.

The wolf rolled wildly on the ground pawing at his face, rubbing his muzzle along the dirt. The high pitched sounds of his terror caused the rest of the pack to hesitate, and to start backing away.

Joshua started to ask “What are you,” and his question trailed off as he realized what he was seeing.

He gave a quick nod and moved to the cart, reaching down into it and pulling out a short spear.

He took a few steps forward and then with one fast movement he charged forward and speared the wolf, pinning its head to the ground. The thing gave one convulsive shudder and died.

The creature’s death released the strands of macick that Degra had woven, and the snapping of them made her step back a bit, but she lashed out with them, brushing lightly against the two nearest pack members that she could still sense waiting.

“Leave or die.” She spoke harshly.

They left.

She stared after them, and when she was pretty sure they had left, she exhaled, soft and low. “That,” she said, “was harder than I thought it would be.”

Then she passed out.

She woke up to sunlight on her face, and a realization she was laying on something that was slowly moving.

Her hat had been thoughtfully placed over her head, and she was curled on her side. Apparently she was laying on the cart full of sticks. Or rather next to some of them. Others had been carefully placed aside her and some of them even atop her. When she looked around what she saw was not just sticks, but also a roll of shaggy dark fur. It had to be the skin of the beast she had killed.

“Hello?” She gingerly tried to sit up. She felt sore, and sleepy, despite the fact that it was morning, she wanted to go right back to sleep.

Joshua came over to her and held out a large portion of the jerky that Sparrow had offered Bite the day before. “From the sounds your stomach has been making even while you have been sleeping, I think that you will need to eat before I ask you even half of the questions that I have.”

Sparrrow was making encouraging noises to the goats as she stopped the cart. “I told you she was a Bard! Maybe I can learn to make my music do things like that too!”

Degra couldn’t entirely read softskin expressions but she could hardly miss the expression of an Elder whose charge had just said something so outrageous that there was no easy way to begin to explain why it was a completely unworkable idea.

“I’m not that practiced at spinning threads,” she said softly, “but if we hadn’t won against the pack leader, I don’t think the rest of them would have been easy to overcome.”

Joshua nodded, and took a seat nearby, silently handing Degra another section of jerky. “I only noticed four, but I’m sure there were more.”

Sparrow swallowed and her skin seemed to get lighter. “Four? I only saw two.”

Degra finished chewing the bite and swallowed. “Dazbogs hunt in packs, usually there are at least five or six of them. I’ve heard of larger packs, but that’s rare. Trolls hunt them. Sometimes tame them to use for pets, or cripple them to keep in cages as trapped food.”

She took another bite and turned to Joshua. “You were worried about there being no other travelers at the site? I suppose if there had been more with weapons or with magick we could have been safer from any threat.”

Joshua nodded. “I do have some items that are more powerful than they look, and I would have done some damage to them, but without your magic, I cannot say if we could have survived the battle.”

“You saved us,” Added Sparrow, “I couldn’t do anything to help.”

Degra took another bite and then finally spoke. “You can weave music with that little egg of yours; that kind of skill can be used to shape the strands of power, just like I do. It’s just a matter of finding the right teacher.”

:”Can you teach me?”

Degra’s mouth opened, but she hadn’t the faintest idea of what to say at first. Finally she stammered “I’m just an apprentice.” She looked around, seeing only more path, more trees. “I’m going to the Border Keep to seek help. My tribe has been cursed.” As soon as she said it, she wasn’t sure that she should have, but after last night, she had apparently decided to trust them. Some things couldn’t be put back into the egg, after all.

Joshua frowned. “You are looking for a mage to fight the curse?”

“I’m looking for a Mala of the Bowl who can come and remove the curse.”

“Mala?” Sparrow mouthed the word, clearly unfamiliar with it.

“I’m thinking you mean some kind of adherent of a god, or a power,” Joshua said slowly. “We have lived near Border Keep for a long time.”

“All of my life” chirped Sparrow.

Joshua added softly “I have never heard of such a thing.”

Derga’s mouth opened. Then closed.