Gaia-Town - 4. Quennell

Quennell

“That new ballad is quite lovely,” the barkeep said as the bard approached and sat. Quennell smiled at the big, hairy man and nodded his thanks as a flagon was set before him. “Did you just write that?”

Quennell didn’t want to lie, but if he told the truth it would expose him for the fraud he really was. He’d stopped writing his own songs over a year ago after Hanell left him. He missed his sturdy dwarf lover and it had weighed so badly on his heart, his voice had been stilled. The swarthy, black haired bard was stymied by his own despair.

“It’s just a little something that popped into my noggin,” he finally said and the barkeep, not caring in the least, went off to a paying patron.

That was kind of true, Quennell thought to himself. After that dwarf witch came to visit and gave him the sleek magic tablet, he could watch and listen to strange bards with odd clothing sing and dance songs he’d never heard before. It had been amazing. He could still hear that haunting song he’d first sung a month ago. It had given him chills. The song called for revenge upon a lover and it touched him so, he couldn’t resist. He’d watched the scene on the magic tablet and it had amazed him.

In his head the image of the chubby woman sitting on a chair in a room with impossibly clear curtains returned to him. There were round things, hundreds of them that looked like glass but were too smooth and clear to be so, filled with water that bounced to the music. All the glass he’d ever seen had been pitted and colored. It was deep magic indeed. Quennell knew it was magic because as the chorus hit, a mage appeared in a room with powders, white as snow, and he used his staff to stir the powder so violently it filled the air. That magician’s power had been so great it made dishes fly into a wall and sparks of light cascaded around as the chunky woman cried out her fury.

That night, when he sang that song at the Pickled Parrot, Herron, the barkeep, told him later a number of patrons had spoken of revenge. The song had moved them to mutter of injustices they’d had and how to extract their vengeance. It was the first time Quennell had felt music move through him and reach out to those listening. Every time he sang a song from the magic tablet, it was just as powerful.

His songs never made him feel that way. It was scary but it also was also quite wonderful. Quennell sensed power surging through him as though he were a mage himself. When he sang a love song from the tablet the dwarf witch gave him, the corners filled with couples who couldn’t stop their amorous embraces. If he sang an angry song, fights broke out.

Quennell figured it was probably dark magic and he should destroy the tablet instead of endangering his soul. But, he couldn’t make himself do it. The magic tablet showed him songs that made his heart soar and compelled those around him cry or laugh or fight. It was the kind of power that was hard to give up. If only that dwarf witch had left him alone…

“Want another?” Herron asked. “You seem a tad down tonight.”

“No, I’m good. I’m just thinking.” Quennell gave him an encouraging grin. “Just thinking what my next set should include.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to hear one of your old pieces,” the barkeep said. “I miss them.”

“Really?” Quennell said. “I’m surprised.”

“Nah, I like the stuff that sounds more like you,” Herron said and winked at him. The old, grizzled man had actually flirted with him. Quennell didn’t know what he thought of that. As he watched the barkeep at his work he realized the man was kind of cute in an oafish sort of way.

“I need two meads and three flagons of ale and a backrub,” he heard Stega the barmaid call out to Herron.

“You wouldn’t need the backrub if you’d let me give you a roll in the hay.” The barkeep flirted and Quennell giggled at the wink he gave her.

“You’d get a roll in the hay if you weren’t such an ass,” Stega grumped. Her ample bosom heaved with that remark and she in turn winked at the bard. “For the past week, someone has been eyeing up another woman and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to geld him.”

“Stega you know that means nothing,” Herron said quietly to her. “I’m just foolin’ around.”

“You keep it up my dear husband and I’ll get those two ironworkers over there to have a little fun with me,” she teased and pointed. Quennell looked over and saw a couple of young ‘uns drinking and laughing together. He had a distinct impression they weren’t interested in what Stega had to offer but far be it from him to say so. Herron was looking pretty annoyed and besides, inserting yourself in your employers’ relationship wasn’t wise. Not at all.

“What’s up for the next set?” Stega asked. “This crowd is a bit rowdy tonight. I’d like something to settle them down a bit.” The generously proportioned barmaid’s suggestion was more than just that. Quennell thought there may be something he’d been watching on the magic tablet that might work. It wasn’t something he’d sung previously but for some reason he thought he’d better do it tonight.

Why did he feel that if he didn’t someone might die?

The song was quite haunting, though different from the chubby woman’s song, but equally as magical. He remembered being in awe as he watched it on the tablet.

The song starts with a young boy sitting in a hallway of metal with pieces of parchment and unrolled vellum lying everywhere. He stands up and runs and then gets on a two wheeled vehicle and flies down a road. They are after him.

The boy is obviously an apprentice mage though he is very powerful. After packing a bag, the little apprentice runs through some trees. He has left behind some cloth toys levitating and those chasing him are mystified. They hunt him down into an open clearing. The chasers have some oddly shaped wands and point them at him. He curls into a ball and when they try to blast him with their spells, he forms a powerful field that repels their intentions. The blaze of power expands and throws the other magicians back into the air.

Maybe he’ll sing that song last. Quennell took a long draw from his flagon and sighed.

****************

“Yaddie, you need to stop and rest.” In his head, Zegan’s voice sounded concerned. Zegan was right of course. His lover, gone for over two months now, was always right. Yadrey realized his limbs were feeling leaden and his head was pounding. Sneaking around the well-populated Andoan countryside was exhausting and quite frankly he hadn’t a clue where to find his former master.

Yadrey looked around a tree and saw a stone wall that wasn’t close to any buildings. It was secluded and people wouldn’t be able to see him without looking right at him. A small copse of trees and thick bushes blocked the other side. It was only from the side of this tree you could actually see the little space. He could sleep there. Maybe even eat some of the nuts he’d found.

He needed some place to gather his thoughts and rest his weary head. He crept over to the space and after laying his head on his traveling sack, fell promptly asleep. Right before he lost consciousness, he heard his Zegan say, “Sweet dreams my love. I’m right here with you.”

**************************

Asmo wrinkled his forehead in annoyance and the mirror cracked from side to side. He raised an eyebrow and the pieces flew against the wall disintegrating into silvery dust. Why couldn’t he see the idiot apprentice? He was watching Thoewald carefully as he languished in the dungeon. Asmo watched as Taranis and his familiar, that damned wolf, conversed with his grandfather. But that damned apprentice had disappeared ever since the death of his lover.

Asmo looked over at the scattered pieces of the mirror and snorted. He really should be more careful about his temper. Sure, he had other mirrors but that didn’t mean they were cheap. The merchant shook his head looking up at the sound of a knock on his study door.

“Yes,” he called. He knew it was his steward Ullewe summoning him for an audience. Searching the man’s mind, he found it was an agent of the prince.

Sighing, Asmo got up and strode to the door. “What is it?” he asked the half-dwarf. Ullewe was stoic and nodded at him. “Bentan is here as an emissary for Prince Vell.”

“What does he want?” Asmo asked but didn’t wait for an answer. One didn’t leave a royal messenger waiting even if it was the disgraced son of a dead count. He pushed past Ullewe and marched into the long room.

Bentan was fingering the chain dangling from one of his clocks. Asmo was infuriated that the worthless bastard had the audacity to play with his machines. “Please don’t touch that,” he said shortly.

Bentan looked up and grimaced at the merchant’s words. “I apologize. But you have your own contrition to consider.”

Asmo scowled but restrained himself. “What are you talking about? Why are you here?”

“Did you think the prince’s mages wouldn’t discover your counterfeit merchandise?” Bentan asked coolly. Asmo stopped and considered the accusation. This was a serious one for a respectable merchant to hear. Asmo was hardly respectable but he didn’t want the royal family to discover that fact.

“I’m confused. What is it about my merchandise that isn’t as promised?” Asmo watched the man carefully. It better not be an issue regarding the scale. It was working perfectly and gathering a nice little pile of Luxellium for eventual sale. Did that damned apprentice find out what it was doing and tell someone?

“Two of the lodestones supposedly from the isles of Qerland aren’t real,” Bentan snorted and bobbed his head. “The prince paid for ten lodestones at full power and he only got eight.”

Asmo relaxed. That wasn’t a big deal, not like the scale. This was an easy fix though his supplier had assured they were the real deal. “I am truly sorry about that. I was sure they were all as promised.” Asmo bowed. He hated doing that to such a repugnant man but it was part of the ritual of life under the House of Quorish. “I will give back the money for the two that weren’t satisfactory.”

“You dishonored the prince with your forgery,” Bentan said but shrugged his shoulders. No one would expect punishment to attach to such a petty issue. Repayment was all the prince had required but he liked to see the old merchant grovel a little.

“I’ll get you the coin. In the meantime, can I offer you refreshments?” Asmo asked slyly. He knew Bentan would never partake of food or drink at his hand. The man would fear poison or even worse, enchantment.

“Not today,” is all the man said and he plopped into a chair to wait.

“Ullewe? Attend to me,” Asmo said as he left the room. “Didn’t we test those gems, all of them?”

“Yes, of course, especially since they were ordered by the prince,” the half-dwarf said in surprise.

“Two of them were fake and I have a sneaking suspicion I know who stole them and put rocks in their place,” the merchant growled storming into his room. He opened a large metal cabinet with a flick of his wrist and began counting coins. “I want this house sealed up. We’ve been robbed.”

Ullewe scowled at the suggestion. Security was part of his job. That meant he’d be punished for any infraction. He began to shiver as he considered what that would be. It would probably be at least a lashing if not worse. The implements Asmo kept in the basement were painful, Ullewe knew what they could do. He’d watched as the merchant used them on Dregas. It wasn’t pretty.

“Master, let me look into this for you,” Ullewe said breathlessly. Maybe if he discovered who the thief was, his own punishment would be lessened by some degree.

“Alright. Do it, but make sure this is done quietly. I don’t want my customers to know we’ve been compromised,” Asmo said and headed back toward the long room. Ullewe breathed again in relief. He looked up and saw the merchant had paused at the doorway.

“But steward, you will pay for this breach. I’m going to really enjoy this one.” Asmo smiled menacingly and Ullewe felt his blood run cold.

***********************

Yadrey ate some of the nuts he’d found on the forest floor. There were also ganberries and tion seeds in the bushes by his little hideaway. He’d eaten some of those morsels right after waking but they hadn’t eased his hunger much. He was beginning to feel a little bit of despair.

He started sharpening his sword with a kine stone. It was best to be prepared. As he was doing this task, he considered his options. This wasn’t going as well as he hoped. After sharpening the sword, Yadrey quickly sharpened his dinner blade. It had little nicks on it from opening the nuts and that wouldn’t do.

What was he going to do? Thoewald could be anywhere. He couldn’t just walk up to people and ask. They’d want to know why he was asking and he was at a loss for an explanation. The more he thought about his predicament, the more hopeless it felt. Yadrey wasn’t an adventurer. He wasn’t a tracking ranger or a mage who could watch people using spells or magical implements. Yadrey was just a simple failure and now Zegan’s life would never be avenged.

The man took stock of his resources. He had his sword and the hammer he’d gotten from the Buggane. The hammer was pretty much worthless as far as he could tell. He’d tried throwing it but its light weight didn’t even cause it to stick into a tree. Even its sparking powers seemed to be disappearing. It barely lit a fire anymore and certainly didn’t cause the blaze to increase. The only reason he’d kept it was because the hammer was a token of his battle with the ogre-like creature. It was his only success so far.

“Yadrey, someone’s coming. I don’t like the smell of him.” Zegan’s voice rang in his head. “Quick, get into the bushes.”

Yadrey began to get up and felt something push him backwards. There was some kind of force that kept him down. He squirmed beneath the invisible weight but it was too much. “No, let me go!” Yadrey cried out. “I’ll leave. Just let me free.”

From behind the corner of the stone wall, a large, black haired man with mutton chop sideburns and wildly curly hair was racing toward him. He looked pleased, a malicious grin on his lips. “A trespasser in my garden,” he growled. “You know what we do with trespassers?”

“Sir, please just let me go. I won’t come back, ever,” Yadrey begged.

The man chuckled menacingly. “You stole from me and now I’ll get back what is mine.” He raised his hands and started chanting in Andoan. Yadrey shrieked in fear. Zegan’s voice was silent within him. What was he going to do?

By the time the man’s chant ended, Yadrey found he could stand. The force holding him was loosened but it still had a grip on him. The mage was looking at him maniacally. “You don’t eat the fruit of my garden without paying a price little man.”

A bolt of pure energy emerged from the man’s fingertips and ran up Yadrey’s back and into his brain. He screamed in pain as it burned like fire. The man was going to kill him, he knew it. He could feel the hateful glee pouring through that agonizing energy. Yadrey realized he only had one shot before the man finished him off. He could smell his flesh burning from the first strike.

Yadrey pulled out his sword and struck the man. His motion was so quick, the force merely dragged at his limbs, it didn’t constrict him. But, the sword didn’t hit the mage anyway. It made the space around his adversary spark bright blue. The sword shattered and fell on the ground. All that was left in Yadrey’s hand was the hilt, a useless hilt.

“Ordinary steel against my wards?” The man laughed. “You are pathetic. I was just going to toy with you but since you resist, I’ll make you rue the day you attack Kenwald.”

Yadrey tried to run, but his feet were stuck in place. He felt his body becoming denser, harder, heavier and then he collapsed on the ground. “Zegan, what do I do?” he cried out and the mage looked at him for a minute and then shook his head in disgust.

**************************

“I’m tired,” Stega announced and Quennell looked up from his flagon. “That last set was good though. People really liked it.”

“Yeah, I sold a lot of ale which is all I care about.” Herron grinned at him. “Wish you could sing people thirstier.”

“Then we’d have even more drunks than we’ve got now,” Stega snorted. “I can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like when the prince gets here with the army. Some of the garrison soldiers have said they are halfway here. Men at war are the worst drunks of all cuz they just don’t care.”

“The business will be good for the town,” Herron shrugged and wiped the counter with his rag. “I know we could use a little extra.”

“If you didn’t spend all of it in the Northwest Tangles we’d have enough,” Stega said throwing a towel at him.

“I don’t go there,” Herron said and cocking his head. “I have my own little wench right beside me in my bed.”

Stega blushed and smiled. Quennell could tell she liked that reference to her. Herron was even blushing a little. For all their bluster, they were quite a matched set.

“So what do you have planned for the last song of the night?” Stega asked the bard.

“Something new,” Quennell said. “I don’t know why but I just have to sing it tonight.”

“Do it! Do it now or all is lost,” a voice in his head urged him. It sounded like panic and he got up from the stool and hurried to the platform.

Stega watched as the tall, sturdy bard rushed to his small stage. Quennell pulled out his lute but he didn’t strum at first. He started singing and then the sad sounds of the lute joined him. Stega thought it was odd how the song seemed to echo in the crowded bar. She also couldn’t figure out if the small stone the bard had hanging from his neck was glowing or not. Was it the last vestiges of the afternoon light glinting off the stone or was it pulsing with power. She couldn’t tell and that made the hefty barmaid shiver in fear.

She looked at Herron who was also mesmerized by the bard’s song. He leaned over and asked his wife, “What’s titanium?”

Stega just leaned into him and kissed him for luck.

******************

Yadrey writhed on the ground as the force holding him tightened its grip. He could smell the power as the mage gathered the spell he was conjuring into a ball. That glistening, swarming mass of energy was growing even stronger. Yadrey screamed again as his burnt flesh was torn by the twigs and stones beneath him. His end was near. Zegan’s voice was silent in his head. It was over. He’d failed.

Just when he felt his cheeks dripping sweat mixed with tears, another sensation made itself known.

His necklace was buzzing. Yadrey couldn’t see it, but the lodestone Endora had given him was starting to glow. Kenwald saw it though and he paused for a second. It was gleaming against the boy’s chest. Yadrey’s flesh was so raw, the feeling of the necklace was already forgotten as he watched the mage bring his hands down and the fiery blue ball was aimed at him.

Zegan’s voice rang in his ears. It was a song that filled Yadrey with such wonder; he began to sing along with his dead lover.

“You shout it out

But I can't hear a word you say

I'm talking loud not saying much

I'm criticized

But all your bullets ricochet

Shoot me down, but I get up

I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose

Fire away, fire away

Ricochet, you take your aim

Fire away, fire away”

Kenwald heard the strange words and his blood ran cold. He knew an incantation when he heard it. The mage tried to draw back the spell, but it was too late. It rained down on the writhing, singing lad and instead of burning him it spread out and encased him. Swirling around, the blue energy simply leached away into the ground. Its power was neutralized and painless.

Kenwald cried out in fury. How dare the boy use magic against him? It was obvious he was no mage or sorcerer so how could he dispel his attack?

Yadrey was shaking from the assault. He had felt the power and horror around him but it couldn’t reach him. It was like a shield and it was Zegan’s voice that saved him. Yadrey silently thanked him but Zegan didn’t respond. He sat up and was surprised the leaden weight of the force had dissipated as well. The mage looked enraged and already Yadrey could feel his malevolence coming off him.

“Just let me go,” Yadrey said as he sobbed. “Please?”

“Not on your life!” Kenwald roared. He gathered his powers together and the blue glow was now evident all around him like an aura. Sparks flew in all directions as the mage summoned all the energy he could collect from the area. He couldn’t let this little pathetic boy tell others how he failed. This spell wouldn’t fail like the other had.

Yadrey realized this wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot and the song had ended. He presumed that meant its power was gone. He had no sense that it lingered.

“Yadrey we have to get out of here,” Zegan’s panicked voice rang in his ears. “That spell won’t work again.”

No, it wouldn’t. Yadrey had to agree. That spell wouldn’t work again but would there be time to get away?

Kenwald roared a wicked laugh and reached for Yadrey. The man could feel the energy heat his skin. It was over.

“Rolling in the Deep” video is here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYEDA3JcQqw

“Titanium” video is here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRfuAukYTKg