Fool’s Quest

The one he called Hogen did not so much as turn his head. Instead he picked up his sword and awkwardly levered himself upright again. Without a glance at the shouting man, he limped over to the horses. He checked their picket line, looking into the forest as if he was expecting someone. Then he gimped off toward a fallen tree whose dead branches protruded above the snow. He waded slowly through the unbroken snow until he reached it. He began to attempt to break more firewood from it. He was working one-handed as he leaned on his sword for support. No. Not his sword. My sword. With a start of recognition, I knew the blade as the one that had hung over the mantel in my estate study for so long. Now it served as a crutch for a Chalcedean mercenary.

“Answer me-e-e-e!” the old man was roaring at the soldier, who paid him not a whit of attention. After a moment he ceased his yelling. He stood still, chest heaving in frustration, and stalked over to the fire. He opened gnarled hands to it, then threw another piece of firewood onto it. There was a leather bag on the ground by the fire. He rummaged through it and drew out a stick of dried meat. He stared at the soldier as he bit it savagely. “When you come back to this fire, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to run my sword through your guts, you traitorous coward! Then let’s see you ignore me.” He took a deep breath and roared, “I am your commander!”

I unslung my battle-axe from my back and hefted it. Then, stepping softly but not hiding, I crossed the unbroken snow into their camp. The old man was so intent on shouting Chalcedean obscenities at the soldier that he did not see me until I was almost within axe range. Obviously he was not accustomed to being ignored or disobeyed. An officer then. When he glimpsed me, startled, he shouted a warning to Hogen. I shifted a glance that way. Hogen did not behave as if he’d heard him at all. The old soldier swung his gaze back to me. I met his gaze. I did not make a sound.

“You can see me!”

I gave him a nod and a smile.

“I am not a ghost!” he announced.

I shrugged at him. “Not yet,” I said softly. I hefted the axe meaningfully.

“Hogen!” he roared. “To me! To me!”

Hogen went on wrestling with a branch, working it back and forth in a vain attempt to break it free from the fallen tree. I widened my smile.

The old man drew his sword. I found myself looking at the point of Verity’s sword. I had never seen it from that vantage. My uncle’s sword, his last gift to me, carried by me for many years. And now it threatened me. I stepped back. I’d happily chop the man to pieces, but I wanted nothing to mar that fine blade. My apparent retreat lit sparks in the man’s eyes. “Coward!” he shouted at me.

I breathed the words to him. “You raided my home. That’s my blade you are holding. You took a woman and a little girl from my home. I want them back.”

It infuriated him that I whispered. He scowled, trying to make out my words, then shouted, “Hogen!”

I spoke softer than the wind. “I don’t think he hears you. I don’t think he sees you.” I threw down my wild guess. “I think their magic-man has made you invisible to him.”

His mouth sagged open for an instant and then he clapped it shut. That barb had struck true. “I’ll kill you!” he vowed.

I shook my head at him. “Where are they? The ones you stole from me.” I breathed my question at him, moving silently sideways, and his eyes tracked me. He kept his sword at the ready. How good was he? I wondered. I gauged his age and how stiffly he moved.

“Dead! Dead or run away with the others.” He turned his head and shouted, “Hogen!”

My smile became mostly teeth. I stooped and seized a handful of snow. I crushed it into a ball and threw it at him. He dodged, but not fast enough. It hit his shoulder. He was stiff. And slow.

He took a step toward me, sword at the ready. “Stand and fight!” he demanded.

I’d maneuvered to the far side of the tent, out of Hogen’s view. The old man moved slowly, keeping his eyes on me and his weapon up. I rested my axe on the snow for a moment, to see if I could tempt him to charge me, but he kept his place. With one hand on my axe, I drew my knife and stuck the blade into the canvas of his tent. I dragged a long cut in it and watched it sag. “Stop that!” he roared as he saw his shelter destroyed. “Stand and fight like a man!” I glanced at Hogen. He was cursing and fighting with the tree branch, completely oblivious to us.

I widened my cut in the tent. The old man advanced farther. I stooped and reached in through the cut and began to drag his supplies out into the snow. I found a sack of food. I seized it by the bottom and soundlessly flung the contents wide into the deeper snow. I kept one eye on him as I reached in, groped, and found a bedroll. I dragged it out and threw it.