PURE OF HEART (11 page)

“It’s either you or Bravic.” He groaned.

“Are you afraid?” Oieda tucked her legs underneath her.

“No. Okay. I’ll sing.” Dean shook his head and held up his hands. “I feel like I’m at summer camp. You guys have to help me out here. Now when I point to you, you’re going to sing the chorus part.”

“Okay,” Han shouted.

“The chorus goes something like:

“Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

My little heart just skipped a beat.”

“Hey, that’s neat.” Han beamed.

“It’s a strange song.” Bravic raised an eyebrow.

“You just sang one about Dwarves playing at the beach. I’m still trying to get the picture out of my head.” Dean smirked. “Just sing it when I point to you. It wasn’t my idea to sing, anyway.”

As Dean pointed to them, they all began to sing:

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

My little heart just skipped a beat.

I met a girl who’s oh so neat

and my heart just skipped a beat.

Oh, oh, I can’t wait to see her.

Whoa, whoa, I really miss her.

Oh how I want to kiss her.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

My little heart just skipped a beat.

I can see my baby walking down the street,

and that little girl is oh so sweet.

Oh, no she’s coming nearer.

Whoa, whoa, my heart’s starting to quiver.

Oh how I’m starting to shiver.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

My little heart just skipped a beat.

I can see her smile ever so sweet

and my little heart just skipped a beat.

Oh, now I’m gonna hug her.

Whoa, whoa, just gonna hold her.

Oh how I’m gonna love her.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

Beat, beat, beat, beat, a beat, beat.

My little heart just skipped a beat.

“A beat, beat,” Han cheered, and they all laughed.

“Do you have a child?” Oieda asked.

“What?” Dean looked around. “Me? No. Why would you ask me that?”

“Your song,” Oieda said. “You sang about your baby.”

Dean laughed and sat down against the wall. “No. Not that kind of baby. It means your girl. You know? Like a girlfriend.”

All three stared at Dean.

“Do you mean your betrothed?” Bravic rubbed his beard.

“Betrothed? That’s like the girl you’re going to marry, right?” Dean asked and Bravic nodded. “No. It doesn’t have to be that serious. Baby. It’s like calling a girl sweetie or angel or something.”

“Angel?” Han sat up. “I knew—”

“Don’t say it,” Dean snapped. “It’s just a term of endearment. Look, I didn’t even want to sing. Let’s talk about something else.”

The four sat up for hours and talked. Oieda seemed to fit into the group as if she’d been a part of it all along. The four were now bonded by friendship and the realization that tomorrow they left on the road to Naviak; the road that would bring them to Volsur.

****

When the companions were awakened, the sun was still down. Dean noticed Oieda was gone. One of the girls who brought him a plate of fruit must have noticed him looking around.

“Oieda went to prepare the horses.” She smiled at Dean, and he saw the color rise in her cheeks as she spoke to him.

“Thank you.” He brushed back his hair and stretched.

The three rose and ate the large breakfast laid out for them. They stepped outside and saw Oieda next to five horses; the fifth had supplies across its back.

She was dressed in leather armor and had a spear strapped across her back. Her long brown hair was braided in a ponytail.

“Are you sure you won’t take the Elven armor?” Bravic asked Dean for the third time that morning.

“I’m good. Listen, I plan on doing way more running than fighting.”

“What?” Oieda made a disgusted face when she heard his words.

“Our goal is Volsur. If it’s up to me, we fight once—him. Besides,” Dean climbed onto his horse, “I like my look.”

Han laughed, Bravic scowled, and Oieda rolled her eyes.

Manitu and Ahulata walked out of the main hall and up to them. “Fare well wherever the road to Volsur takes you, warriors. Time grows short for your quest to be done. You four are the chosen. You four are the only ones who can save the world from Volsur’s evil. You will have no fears under the bows of Kilacouqua. Once you leave the safety of the forest, do not stray, but fly like the rays of the sun through the darkness,” Ahulata cautioned, and then bowed low.

“Thank you, Lord of the Woods,” Dean replied, and all four bowed their heads.

“And thanks for my bow,” Han added with a smile as he held up the new short bow he had been given.

The four turned and rode down the street. Han rode on his own smaller horse. He clicked his tongue and moved up next to Oieda. “What’s that?” He pointed to a leather band around her arm. It had a feather dangling from it.

“It’s a Taristaku,” Oieda explained. “You wear it on your right arm into battle. You look at it to remember something you are fighting for.”

“What are you fighting for?” Han asked.

“Many things. But I will look at it and remember my father. This Taristaku was his.”

“What does Oieda mean?”

She blushed and let out a little laugh. “It means Sent from the Heavens.”

“Hey, that’s neat.” Han turned around in his saddle and wiggled his eyebrows at Dean. “Her name means ‘Sent from the Heavens’ and you are.”

“I said don’t say that anymore,” Dean grumbled as he chased Han’s fleeing horse down the road.

The four journeyed through the forest of Kilacouqua for nearly a week before the woods ended. Soon they traveled over rolling hills with the sun occasionally breaking through the gray clouds. The days wore on, and they made good time, for the weather was fine and the travel was easy. Along the way, they’d catch glimpses of wolves running alongside them. At night, the wolves stayed close and watched over their camp. On one particularly fine day, as they came to the top of a gentle rise, they could see a large city that shone like gold in the sun.

“What city is that?” Dean gasped.

“That is Modos. The Golden City,” Oieda said.

“We need to restock supplies.” Dean nodded to the packhorse.

“I think some of us have eaten in excess.” Bravic frowned at Han.

“Is the city safe?” Dean asked.

“They have been allies.” Oieda frowned.

“What don’t you like about it?” Dean asked.

She sat up a little straighter on her horse. “The people are . . . pampered.”

“Oieda, why do they call it the Golden City?” Han asked. “Is it really made of gold or does it just look like gold? Or maybe it’s just a very rich city so people say ‘Gold flows like water there.’ Or ‘That city is full of gold.’ Or—”

“Han, I’ll race you to the far end of the road.” Dean spurred his mount forward to try to get the Elvana to stop talking.

The four raced almost the rest of the way to the city. As they drew closer, they slowed their pace and gazed at the huge walls around it. Beyond the walls, they could see buildings whose tops were covered with real gold.

They made their way to the two huge gates that appeared to be the only way into the city. The massive doors were swung wide open; the guards posted there barely lifted their heads as the four rode past them.

“If they were Dwarves, they’d be hung for negligence of their posts,” Bravic spat.

“If they were Elves, they would be hung at the posts,” Oieda said.

“Yeah? Well, if they were Elvana, they’d be beaten, hung, all cut up, and then fed to wild pigs.” Han growled with a sinister smile. All turned to him in horror; when he saw their faces, he burst out laughing. “Got ya.”

Their laughter soon faded as they rode down the beautiful cobblestoned streets and saw people of all races, sizes, and shapes. Most wore outlandish, gaudy clothes, which hung loosely over their bodies to hide their fat. Jewels hung all over their bodies. Some wore wide necklaces or large rings. Others had gems pierced in their noses, ears, and even their cheeks.

The buildings sparkled. Some were painted in bright colors while marble and stone gleamed on others. As they passed one store, Bravic reined his horse to gaze upon a jewel-encrusted battle-axe plated in pure gold. The blade gleamed brightly, and Bravic almost had to shield his eyes from the glow. He looked up from the weapon into the dark eyes of a thin, old shopkeeper who smiled at him.

Bravic’s eyes locked with the shopkeeper’s. He seemed unable to look away. The shopkeeper leaned forward and Bravic’s eyelids became so heavy he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stared at the axe; its golden gleam reflected in his eyes. He scanned the store for the shopkeeper but the man was gone. Bravic shook his head before he turned and hurried to join the others.

When they neared the center of town, an ornamented carriage drawn by a team of ten horses came down the road. A dozen soldiers on horseback followed it. The carriage pulled across the street and blocked their path. A servant hopped to the ground, opened the door to the coach, and lowered an attached step. Out stepped an obese man in his later years. His hair, what little was left, was gray; his eyes were deeply set, seeming to hide behind his bloated cheeks. He was dressed in a long, wide bright red robe. Thick gold chains extended down below his fat chin.

“Welcome to Modos. I’m Anganese Falvidor, mayor of the Golden City.” He bowed as low as he could, his great stomach making that distance not much. “We’ve been expecting you. You are the son of Panadur?”

Dean froze.

Oieda’s hand reached back for her spear, and Bravic moved his horse slightly in front of Han’s.

“Let me spare you the awkwardness of deciding whether to trust me or not.” Anganese smiled and twirled his hand. “I received word from Ahulata. He requested we extend the same pleasantries as if you were his personal dignitaries. The Kilacouqua have been allies of Modos for years. I intend to honor that alliance. As proof, I say to you: ‘Ashota delnita kiatee.’”

Oieda’s eyes widened, and she nodded at Dean.

Dean searched her face. She nodded again quickly.

“My name’s Dean. Nice to meet you,” Dean said as he watched the soldiers.

“The pleasure is mine indeed. I have had my humble home prepared for your stay. Will you be here long?”

“We’re just passing through,” Dean said.

“We’re on a quest,” Han added.

Dean shot Han a sideways look.

“Oh, a quest.” The fat man rubbed his plump hands together. “I can’t wait to hear all about it. Modos is a city for travelers, and I love to hear their tales, especially if they’re on a quest. Follow my wagon, and I’ll show you the way to my home. I have prepared a banquet for you tonight.” He bowed again and waved. The many rings on his chubby hand flashed in the light.

The servant shut the door and climbed onto the buckboard. The soldiers turned their horses and trotted around so they were behind the companions.

“Another feast.” Han beamed.

“Don’t say anything else,” Dean whispered to Han. Dean moved next to Oieda. “What did that mean?”

“He speaks the truth,” Oieda said. “He is an ally.”

“Don’t be so hasty to judge someone.” Han shrugged. “He’s the mayor. He might have to do this for everybody.”

“Don’t be so hasty to believe someone, either.” Dean’s jaw clenched. “I learned growing up nothing is free. Everyone has an angle.”

“Well, like it or not, I don’t think we have much of a choice right now,” Bravic grumbled as he tilted his head back at the soldiers, who were slowly moving up behind them.

They trotted after the carriage. The soldiers followed a close distance behind them. After many twists and turns through the crowded city streets, they came to a large, lavish house atop a steep hill. As the wagon passed through a huge gate, they saw two more guards restfully nodding at their posts.

The house was white, its edges and domed roof gilded in gold. The wagon stopped in front of two massive front doors, and servants rushed to take the companions’ horses. Anganese stepped from the carriage and motioned them to him.

“This is my home.” He waved his hand. “I insist you stay with me while you visit the city. I hope you’ll find your quarters comfortable.”

The inside of the house was filled with expensive objects from all over the land. Everything seemed to shine or sparkle. They walked through the wide corridors as Anganese pointed out one object or another and explained where it was from and how expensive it was.

“This is where you’ll be staying, friends of the city.” He held his hands out to four rooms. “The banquet will begin shortly. If you need anything at all, please tell the servants.” Again, he tried to bow low before he turned and waddled down the hallway.

The four opened the doors to their new rooms, each wide-eyed. They were furnished in the same rich manner as the rest of the house. After each cleaned up, they came back to Dean’s to await supper.

Dean grabbed Oieda and pulled her close. Her green eyes flashed. She pulled her arm away and stepped back. Dean rolled his eyes, leaned in close, and whispered, “What did Anganese say to you? Why did you trust him?”

“He repeated the current kitarama.”

“The what?”

“It’s a pass phrase,” Oieda explained. “We change them frequently, but it was the last one set right before we left. If Ahulata sent a rider, he would have used that phrase so I would know it was safe.”

“That’s good news but . . .” Dean sighed, “something doesn’t feel right. Why is every other place we’ve gone through hurting, and these guys aren’t?”

“Ahulata said they are allies.” Oieda squared her shoulders.

“No offense, but alliances change.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Han yawned. “Especially if it’s made of gold and there’s a banquet attached.”

Just as Han got up to pace the floor for the fifth time, a knock at the door preceded the entrance of a well-dressed servant.

“Supper is ready.” He bowed. “Please follow me.”

They set off again down the hallway. Bravic had to grab hold of Han’s shirt to prevent him from dashing ahead of the servant after the smell of food filled the air. The dining hall was large, but there was only one table in it now. In the center of the room was a small marble table with only five places set for supper.

“Please, sit and be merry.” Anganese grinned, as he stayed seated at the head of the small table. “Any food you wish, I have.” He waved to the large assortment of foods the servants held.

The four ate everything from roast duck to sea fish to exotic fruits from
over the sea,
as Anganese said. Soon they’d eaten their fill, although Han seemed to eat more than everyone, except, of course, Anganese. When they finished, servants came with bottles of wine from around their world and any ale the Dwarf could name.

Finally, Anganese pushed his thrice-cleaned enormous plate away. “Well, journeyers, tell me something of your quest.”

Dean cleared his throat. “We head north.”

Anganese held up a hand while he raised his goblet to his mouth again and drained it. “As I mentioned, we are allies of the Kilacouquen. Ahulata requested my assistance, and I assure you I intend to aid you in any way I can. Do you really plan to go all the way to Naviak?” Anganese asked. “Just you four?”

Oieda nodded.

Anganese sighed. “Volsur’s? That’s a very dangerous journey. And why would you head to the Dark Lord’s realm?”

“We plan to stop him,” Han answered plainly, taking another bite of chicken.

“You four are braver than I thought.” Anganese gave a slight smile. “There’s no other reason to go north now. Everyone else is going the other way but you. You four head straight to him. But to stop Volsur, surely you’ll need more than just you? You’ll need men and money. I can provide you with both. The Golden City has no love for Volsur.” Anganese pushed backward in his chair.

“Will the men be the same type as your guards?” Bravic scoffed.

“The lazy loafs I have outside are not what I meant for warriors, my friend. No, I mean real warriors from all the lands.”

“We have no need of men,” Dean said. “We just need supplies, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Supplies we have in abundance. Make a list, and it will be provided. All you have to do is ask.”

“Thank you for your help, Anganese.” Dean rose to shake the man’s outstretched hand. “If it would be okay with you, we’d like to rest here for a few days at least.”

“By all means, my boy,” he said. “Stay as long as you want. I’ll start gathering what you desire. In the morning, you’ll be able to rest far easier. For tonight, I thank you for joining me.”

“No, thank you.” Han groaned as he sat up, wishing he’d stopped eating long before.

As the servant took them back to their rooms, they all wished they had eaten less. All except Bravic, who only picked at his food. He had been thinking of something else.

Han yawned. “I have to sleep. It’s past midnight, and with my belly so full, bed will feel so good.”

“We’re getting up early and leaving,” Dean said.

Han tossed his hands up. “You just said we could stay a few days and rest. I for one would like another banquet.”

“That’ll only give us a few hours sleep,” Han whined.

“Why?” Oieda eyed Dean.

“I want to get moving.”

“He is helping us,” she said. “We should rest a few days.”

“I agree,” Bravic rumbled. “The horses could use it too.”

“And me,” Han added.

Dean looked at his three friends and shook his head. “No. We go first thing. Agreed?”

They all nodded. Oieda spun on her heels, Han pouted, and Bravic walked away muttering.

Dean got into the extra soft bed and sank into the mattress. Between the comfort of not sleeping on the hard ground and his full stomach, the last thing he wanted to do was leave right away, but his nagging feeling won. He planned to leave as soon as they could.

After only a short time, Bravic’s door opened, and he quietly slipped down the hallway. He crept by the sleeping guards and went out the gate into the darkened streets.

He didn’t notice the silent form, now following him down the deserted road like a shadow. He kept walking at a fast pace until he approached the store window they’d passed earlier that day. The window in which lay the golden axe. He stared for a moment at the gleam of tainted yellow light that seeped up the blade. In one motion, he thrust his gauntleted fist through one of the window panels. He grasped the handle. He looked casually around, turned, and started to walk back down the street.