Seers of Verde: The Legend Fulfilled: Book One (29 page)

10

Hans Holser smiled as he and his brother, Deter, slowly but skillfully, guided their boat back to the dock of the remote mountain village. Fishing that day on the river had been bountiful for the brothers, as well as for their fellow Verdans. Their net teemed with the wriggling creatures. It had strained both men to haul their catch into the boat.

As usual, the village’s womenfolk and children greeted the boats as they glided to their usual places on the dock. This catch would feed their families for many days, as well as fill wagons to haul to nearby villages to sell at market. When the men returned home, the entire village helped process the fish. Tables were set up for gutting and scaling.

Cleaned fish not kept back for that day’s meal were quickly taken to the smokehouses, where the meat would be preserved. Some of the entrails were saved to make bait for the next fishing foray. The remaining guts were thrown into grinders. The end product filled baskets that were taken to the village gardens and dumped out for fertilizer. Nothing was wasted.

Ten men watched the scene with great interest from a hidden, rocky ledge. With such a large catch, they suspected the villagers would celebrate their bounty with a large communal feast, including music, dancing, and many mugs of their favorite ales.

The watchers were not disappointed. Less than two hours after the fishermen had landed, a dozen large bonfires were started. The delicious scent of fresh fish cooking filled the air, followed by raucous laughter. One of the ten men smiled as he stood and gestured for his companions to follow.

Hans already had downed two large mugs of Deter’s homemade ale when he spotted the strangers who slowly approached the feasting villagers. Tapping his brother on the shoulder, both men rose from their seats to greet the visitors.

“Pardon our intrusion, cousins, but we could not help but smell this wonderful feast of yours,” said a smiling, bearded man. “We would most happily pay to take part in your meal. My men and I have been traveling hard and would appreciate a good meal and lodging, if possible.”

Deter, who had gulped three mugs of his brew, stumbled over to the smiling visitor. “We don’t see many strangers in the village. Who are you? What brings you fellows here?”

Hans started to admonish his brother for his rudeness, but was waved off by the man who spoke. “Perfectly understandable. Forgive my manners. I am Lanzo Kroll, leader of my circle,” he said, nodding toward the others. “We have been chasing some Sankari but lost them in the mountains.”

Hans and Deter now were joined by a handful of their fellow Verdan villagers who were curious about the strangers. “Nuvens?” an elderly woman asked. “We’ve never seen Nuvens in this village before.”

A wide-eyed boy of about ten harvests peered at the visitors in awe. “You’ve been chasing Sankari?” he asked excitedly. “Have you been in a fight?” Lanzo laughed and patted the boy on the head.

“No, youngling. We haven’t gotten close enough to fight them. But we’ve been chasing them for days.”

Hans stepped forward. “We have seen no Sankari. You are the only strangers who have visited our village for the past two lunars.” Gesturing toward the ongoing feast, he invited the outsiders to join them. “We are celebrating a great catch. You are welcome to share with us and pay us what you will.”

Lanzo nodded. “My men and I are most grateful for your generous invitation. We have worked up a tremendous appetite as well as strong thirsts,” he said, winking at Deter.

Hans’s brother slapped the supposed Nuven leader on the shoulder and led him toward the other villagers. “Thirsty, you say?” he said with a wink. “Let me offer you some of my special ale. That should take care of that thirst.”

Lanzo smiled. “My men and I were hoping you might have something a bit stronger than sweet cider.”

Deter waved for mugs of his brew to be served to the visitors. “My friend, this is better than any cider you’ve ever been served in the Nuven villages!” he shouted with pride. “Oh, and bring them fish, too.”

It did not take the visitors long to join in the fellowship of the feast. After they had eaten their fill, the ten supposed “Nuvens" intermingled with the villagers and soon were laughing at their hosts’ stories and sampling the various homemade ales. Much to Deter’s delight, Lanzo declared his ale to be the best.

Busy with their revelry, the villagers did not notice that their guests drank very little. Most of the strong brews were sipped and then discreetly spilled or poured onto the ground. When their paths crossed during the festivities, Lanzo approached Hans, who now was relaxed and affable after eating and drinking his share.

“Pardon me, cousin, but someone told me this village was famous for something, or perhaps someone, but I cannot recall what it could be?” the visitor asked.

Hans smirked. “Someone famous from here, friend? I think not. We are simple fishermen. We are content to stay here, away from the troubles in the valley, especially that crowded, noisy Verde City.”

Lanzo prodded his new friend. “Ah, that’s it. Someone in Verde City.”

Hans thought for a moment then smiled. “My sister, Serna, is a Seer in the city. Is that who you’re talking about?” he said, laughing. “She has been gone for more than twenty harvests.”

Lanzo’s eyes lit up with great interest. “Yes, that’s it. You must quite proud of your sister.”

Hans shrugged. “Yes, it was an honor for her to become a Seer, but she has never been back since she left.” A beautiful young woman carrying pitchers of ale stopped nearby. One long reddish-blond braid was draped over her shoulder and the other hung down the middle of her back.

“Father, are you talking about Serna?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, how I would love to visit her in Verde City.”

Hans leaned over, giving her a hug. “Maybe someday, Arista,” he said playfully, tugging the braid that ran down her back. “But for now, my girl, you’d better deliver those pitchers before someone gets upset with you.” Arista stuck out her tongue. She glanced at Lanzo, then blushed and giggled when he winked at her.

“I’m sure the Seer would be happy to host such a charming kinswoman,” he said with a smile as he watched the young woman hurry away. Hans shrugged as he took a big draw of ale. “Perhaps, but my sister does not know about Arista. Serna left before my daughter was born.”

Lanzo put his arm around Hans’s shoulder. “I have a feeling, my friend, that your sister will be very interested in your daughter.”

The two moons of Verde had risen and almost made their way across the night sky when the last of the villagers stumbled toward their cabins, which were built into nooks and crannies in the nearby mountain. The visitors turned down invitations to be lodged in various homes, explaining they preferred to stay together as a troop.

The villagers apologized for the lack of comforts and opened an empty storage shed for the “Nuvens" to bed down in. Lanzo was gracious, assuring his hosts the shed would be much more comfortable than sleeping on the cold ground in the mountains.

The leader even insisted he and his men help some of the villagers, who had celebrated too much, back to their homes. About an hour after everyone in the village finally settled down for the night, Lanzo made sure his disguised Sankari troop was ready to carry out its mission.

Each warrior had been selected for exhibiting a vicious nature. Most had spent time in prisons for crimes against their fellow Verdans, including assault and robbery. Even Lanzo, who once had been a promising officer, had been jailed for attacking a fellow Sankari over a game of chance. All the troopers had been promised amnesty for carrying out this bloody mission.

“Just as we practiced,” the captain ordered in a low voice. “Go in pairs. The cabins are unlocked. Most of these drunks can be killed in their sleep. Do what you will to the women, but make sure they make no noise. Spare a few of the older male children. We want to leave a vengeful batch to be witnesses to this ‘Nuven’ attack. Remember, act like Defenders. Slit their throats and leave the bodies where they fall. The cabins must be left standing. We want plenty of proof that Defenders did this.”

Lanzo looked at his men with a deadly glare. “Leave Hans Holser and his family to me. I have special plans for the daughter.” The troop silently made its way toward the sleeping villagers. No one raised an alarm as they crept close.

Hans and his mate were sleeping soundly, snoring in a drunken stupor, when they were pulled savagely from their bed. Before the fisherman could defend himself, his nose was broken by a heavy blow. He passed out from the injury.

His wife never uttered a sound as Lanzo neatly slit her throat. Her blood gushed out and pooled around her limp body. Arista was dragged into the room by Lanzo’s partner. The girl was gagged and bound, her eyes wide with terror.

The captain doused Hans with a pitcher of water to wake him up. The fisherman gasped in pain as he tried to focus on his attacker. While the sobbing Arista watched, Lanzo beat her father, demanding he tell them where the Sankari were hiding.

Of course, poor Hans could tell him nothing and endured more of the punishment until he slumped to the floor, dead. Not finished with his act, Lanzo grabbed the frightened girl and flung her to the bed.

As he tied her down, the Sankari leader looked at his companion and snarled, “The captain always goes first.” When the two men had finished, they made sure Arista’s bonds were loose enough so she could eventually free herself. The poor girl had fainted from the trauma of the attack.

To make their intentions seem deadly, Lanzo struck her head with the hilt of his knife. The blow was designed to leave a welt and ugly gash, but not be fatal.

The Sankari troop reconnoitered at the dock about two hours after they started their deadly mission. All the men waded into the river to wash off the blood that covered their clothes. Lanzo took one last look at the village which was eerily silent, except for the twitters of birds as they awoke for the day. After congratulating the troop for a job well done, the captain ordered them back into the mountains.

11

Witt Peyser banged open the door to the small barracks where the Circle Sankarikiller brothers had been dozing. True to their training, the Defenders half-rose from their cots, clutching knives, to see who dared to disturb them. One of the young Nuvens recognized Witt and yelled, “Steward in the room! Attention!”

The ten Defenders groggily stood up and saluted their leader. Witt chuckled to himself, but dared not let the circle see his humor.

“You’ve only been in the temple for a week and look how soft the lot of you have become,” he said in his best growl. “Circle Sankarikiller has drawn the privilege of patrolling the Western villages. I was going to give you two hours to get ready, but now you’ve got one hour to get your gear ready and fetch some food. Meet me at southwest portal three.”

The Defenders were now wide awake. They scrambled to grab their traveling gear and weapons, which had been prepared in advance. Aron Nels scurried about with his circle brothers, but a frown was etched on his face. Witt, who had anticipated Aron’s mood, called the young man over.

“Defender, don’t worry about your kinsman. I’ve seen to his care,” Witt said reassuringly. “The third-level trainees have eagerly volunteered to see to his needs.”
Aron saluted his superior. “Yes, steward. Thank you for telling me.” He started to leave, but stopped. “Sir, Tevan will need coins for his daily needs.”

Witt smiled to allay Aron’s concerns. “His allowance has been taken care of by three generous benefactors. I promise he will be well taken care of.”

Aron frowned. “Benefactors? I trust it is not the Seers. One has taken an interest in Tevan.” This time it was Witt who looked surprised.

“A Seer has been paying attention to Tevan? I was unaware of that. Hopefully it is out of kindness. No, it is not the Seers. The benefactors are Elders Nyrthka, Grig and Xander Vonn. They have pledged to support Tevan when you are busy elsewhere.”

Smiling, Aron was relieved he was being helped with the care of his kinsman. He could now give full attention to finishing his preparations.

The members of Circle Sankarikiller were ready by the portal at the scheduled time. A few were breathing hard from scrambling to get there. Every Nuven temple was built with dozens of secret portals to allow for emergency entries and exits.

The first Nuvens had insisted on this system to emulate the cave system that had saved their lives so many times from those mysterious off-world marauders, the Tanlians. The portals were cleverly hidden in architectural features throughout the temple. Only the privileged knew about these secret doorways.

Witt inspected the circle. To his satisfaction, they all were ready to go on their three-week tour to protect remote Nuven villages. Every Defender circle in all the temples shared in this responsibility of protecting the outlying villages, which could be in danger of a Sankari attack.

The circles visited each village in their protection area, staying for an undetermined amount of time. They entered unannounced and departed the same way, the same way Circle Sankarikiller was now leaving Temple Darya.

Much as they did when patrolling the temples, the Defenders established no pattern for the enemy to pick up on. Many times, even the villagers were unaware Defenders were among them. The warriors often posed as traveling merchants or artisans, just passing through.

¶ ¶ ¶

Rakir strained to see out the watchtower she was visiting in Temple Darya. The Seer thought she saw a group of men scurry out of an opening in the wall and disappear into the half-light of early morning. It was almost a full hour before first sun. The young woman took deep, meditative breaths to relax and project her sight onto the shadowy figures. But nothing came to her. Her mind was unable to connect with whoever was out there.

The seer shook her head, then frowned. Rakir was sure she had seen men departing. The fact she could not use her sight only confirmed what she suspected. The men must have been the unreadables — Circle Sankarikiller. Armed with her suspicions, it was her duty to report the departure to Lanella. Since arriving at Temple Darya, Rakir and the other Seers had tried to watch the comings and goings of this special group of Nuvens closely.

However, this mission had proved to be difficult. Unaccustomed to being unable to use their sight to gain an advantage, the Seers had to resort to physically spying and watching this circle of Nuvens. Even though Defenders had a reputation for being womanizers, this circle had gone out of its way to avoid the Seers. Almost every attempt to flirt with or attract them had failed.

Only Verinya had successfully contacted one of the Defenders, Aron Nels, when she helped the Nuven’s helpless kinsman in the marketplace. Even then, the warrior had been polite but was wary of her. After hearing Rakir’s report during first meal, Lanella turned to Verinya.

“Find your new friend and see if you can discover where that circle has gone. If we can chart those Defenders’ activities, then we can learn more about them.”

Verinya quickly finished her meal and left to search for Tevan. She knew he loved to visit the marketplace after meals. The Seer would be able to learn something about the Defenders just by finding Tevan. It would be almost as telltale to find the childlike man without his warrior kinsman nearby.

As she walked slowly through the marketplace, Verinya searched with her eyes and ears. Oftentimes his hearty laugh could be heard echoing through the rows of vendors before he could be spotted. Finally resorting to using her “sight,” Verinya found Tevan with a group of teenage boys. Much to her surprise, the group scuttled off when one of the youngsters spotted her.

Curious, the Seer patiently followed them, knowing Tevan would insist they stop to look at something interesting. She was not disappointed. The group had paused near a booth where the vendor and a customer were loudly haggling over a price. Verinya easily picked out Tevan’s laughter from the noise of the crowd. This time the Seer made sure she kept other people between herself and Tevan’s group.

Four teenage boys stood near Aron’s kinsman. One paid close attention to Tevan, while the other three obviously were watching out for danger. Verinya smiled. One very important person was missing from this group — Aron Nels. The Seer had never seen Tevan with a group of boys before. They obviously were taking care of him.

Verinya suspected if Aron was unable to care for his kinsman, he must have made arrangements for these boys to take his place. The Seer felt she had her information concerning Aron’s whereabouts, but first she wanted to have some fun with Tevan’s young protectors. Without drawing attention from the group, Verinya sauntered over to a nearby vendor who was showing off brightly colored scarves.

Tevan shook his head, disappointed the vendor and his customer had finally agreed on a price. It was such great fun to watch the arguing, but from experience, the young man knew all he had to do was to wander through the marketplace to find more entertainment.

As Tevan and his new friends started to walk up the aisle, an old woman jostled him. “Take care where you step, youngling,” the crony cackled.

Surprised, Tevan mumbled, “Sorry,” and took a step back. His protectors looked at each other, unsure how to handle this problem. Ever since they were babies, the youngsters were told to respect an elder. The woman drew closer as if she were going to lecture poor Tevan then pulled down the scarf covering her head.

“Vera!” Tevan called excitedly, reaching out to give her a hug. His caretakers stood with their mouths agape. The Seer, who they had been trying to avoid, had easily slipped through their ranks. When Tevan finished hugging the Seer, one of the youngsters reached out to pull him away, but without success.

“Look Farro, Vera here,” Tevan said laughing. He playfully swatted the Seer on the shoulder.

Verinya smiled sweetly. “It’s good to see you, too, Tevan. Why, where is Aron?”

Tevan shrugged. “Aron not here. Farro come with Tevan.”

The Seer gazed at Farro, who was blushing with embarrassment at having failed to avoid her. “I can’t imagine why Aron Nels isn’t watching his kinsman. He must be away from the temple.”

Farro bowed clumsily. “He is busy with temple duties, so we are watching Tevan.” The other three members of the group nodded. “Yes, temple duties,” they murmured in unison.

Verinya reached out to take Tevan’s hand. “I see. Well I would be happy to accompany this handsome young man through market. I will bring him back when he is ready,” she said, flashing a smile.

Farro started to argue, but Tevan stepped close to the Seer. “Tevan go with Vera,” he proclaimed loudly. Like old friends, the pair turned and walked up the row. Verinya laughed at her victory. She imagined the four younglings would be severely chastised once they returned to their quarters, plus she had her answer as to Aron’s whereabouts; he obviously was not in the temple.