Far from Home: Book 2

By Paul Boyce

Yazama Jiutarô, a young Japanese samurai warrior, had one purpose, to avenge the execution of his former master. But by a twist of fate had been wrenched from feudal Japan to the strange world inhabited by strange and fearful beings, beasts and monsters, by dark assassins and strange magic. He had felt alone but friends had taken him under their wing.
Now he was lost to them, buried beneath tons of rock in tunnels deep beneath the surface of the world. His friends, brave fighters with a diversity of skills, are devastated at his lost and have vowed to continue without him. There is much to do.
A witch with horrifying powers has to be confronted.
Will their strengths be enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781665510349

Paul Boyce

Paul Boyce began creatively writing during his time in the British military and then as a civil servant when producing reports for his auspicious superiors and for industry. He often spends many hours in planning cunning ways in which to kill off his wife, stepson, son and daughter-in-law, and anyone else foolish enough to partake, in a variety of fantasy role-playing games. Unfortunately, he was recently diagnosed with MS which, on a plus side, now gives him plenty of time to tap away on the keys of his laptop. He insists that he won’t work around the MS, it’ll have to work around him! He still has a very high respect for the use of punctuation, a dying art these days it seems, and cannot abide the puerile use of text-speak, especially by adults (LOL!). He was somewhat dismayed to hear, quite recently, a man in a pub say to his wife “Don’t bother using punctuation in your text, you don’t need it!” What is the world coming to when commas and the semi-colon are consigned to history? He has already commenced the follow-on manuscripts for Black Harlequin and Far from Home. With luck and a fair wind, and Microsoft Windows 10 permitting, these will both be published in 2016.

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© 2021 Paul Boyce. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  12/03/2020

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1029-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1034-9 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Part 1 Eastern Realms

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Part 2 Carrick Cliffs

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue: Return To Kyoto

Also by Paul Boyce:

Black Harlequin(currently under re-editing)

My sincere thanks and appreciation…

… goes to my lovely wife Jane who has had to tolerate my periods of silence, no doubt glad of it at times, and many late nights while I tap away on my keyboard. Without her encouragement and support I might never have inflicted this publication on an unsuspecting public.

… goes to the team at AuthorHouse publishers who, with their insistence, made me realise that I can achieve what I had considered a challenge too far, in spite of being technologically naïve, increasingly disabled and relatively poor.

… goes to other members of my family: Being a ‘very, very old man’ (according to Max, my grandson – careful young man, you may find yourself disinherited!) and admitting to being cantankerous and impatient old git when things don’t go according to plan, my disability has to live with me, not me with it.

PART 1

EASTERN REALMS

CHAPTER 1

S ILMAR WAS furious. How in the seven hells of the Void could we have missed him until now

Taura, the priestess of Neilea, was almost in tears. All this time and none of us noticed Jiutarô wasn’t here?

Thought he was at the back keeping the stragglers from getting themselves straggled, growled the mighty barbarian, Falcon. What can we do?

Shit! exclaimed the Jasper, the old dwarf. Shitty shit! We choddin’ well gotta go back and find him, ain’t we?

Silmar Galadhal, the elven warrior, sat on his haunches. We cannot all go back. I’ll do it. I can walk the tunnels faster on my own.

I’ll go with you, said Billit, the gnome wizard. Even with the light-tubes, you won’t see much. You need a rock-hopper’s dark-vision. My eyes are better than yours, spesh’ly made for mine tunnels like these. Rock-hopper was a disparaging term humans and dwarves used for the race of Chthonic gnomes that lived on the surface and worked in mines producing coal, precious and semi-precious stones and other minerals. Attitudes like that didn’t bother Billit. The light tubes were simple leather scroll-cases but with a gold coin deep inside that was imbued with a magical glow spell.

We’ll need to move quickly, the elf responded. If we are able to find him, he may be injured, or worse.

Don’t say that, Silmar, cried Taura. He might be somewhere with a sprained ankle or something.

I might be small, compared to you, Silmar, the gnome urged, but I can move fast enough for you in mine tunnels. Let’s get on, then.

They took water and the bag of healing implements that Taura proffered. Within moments they were gone. Just the receding glow from the light-tubes to indicate their departure.

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In the pitch darkness, the hand twitched. The arm to which it belonged stretched, rocks, dust and other debris skittered and slid to one side of the heap of the collapsed roof of the great subterranean chamber.

Yazama Jiutarô, the samurai warrior, was buried and unable to move. The pain in his left hand was unbearable at first, but he compartmentalised that pain into another part of his mind, as he had been taught when a student. He couldn’t move his legs but there was some freedom of his left forearm and hand.

He was startled by a moist licking sensation on his hand. Sushi! She is here! The little cleret-wing dragon, its body not much larger than a house cat and its long tail tipped with a vicious barb, chirruped with obvious delight.

He was lying slightly on his left side. To his right was what felt like, a great stone object, probably a pillar. To his front, a section of pillar lay flat. He lay tightly wedged between them. Together they must have kept much of the roof debris off him.

He tried to push up from the floor but he was too tightly wedged in. He used his left hand to start clearing the stones and rock away. Sushi twittered above him. After a while he had cleared the debris enough for Sushi to sit contentedly on his chest. Again, her thin, forked tongue slapped around his face.

Something else, wet and cool, splattered on his face. And again. Rain? He cleared dust from his face and opened his eyes. There was some light, dim indeed, but he could see some features around him. Strange writings engraved on the pillar to his right. Soil and grass littered the top of the pillar. He thought it odd that some of the detritus had felt soft and soil-like. Water

He had a dripped more steadily onto his face and chest. There must be a great hole in the roof. Sushi was his only hope. He bent his mind to communicate with the little dragon. They had an affinity brought about by the bonding they shared. He would have to imagine pictorially. Find them, little one. Find them.

After a struggle to stretch her battered wings and her legs, Sushi pushed herself into the air and through the vent in the ground above. She gave a shrill cry and began to circle, higher and higher.

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The surface world was in darkness but after the pitch blackness of the Shadow World the natural darkness of night was a welcome relief to them. How clear, fresh and so, so sweet was the air. They took lungfuls, feeling the cool vesper of air movement on their faces even in the depth of the cave, and sighed with pleasure. There was no moon or stars and as they walked towards the opening, instead they heard torrential rain falling.

Falcon crouched and examined the cavern floor. Hoof marks here, but few boot prints, he murmured. They rode their horses out of here. He studied the tracks carefully, tracing the outline of one of them with a fingertip. This is interesting, he said quietly. The horseshoes are unusual. They aren’t as rounded as usual; they come to a point almost, do you see? And there is a notch at the point.

It should make ’em recognisable, Jasper mumbled. Let’s ’ope the bastards ’ave buggered off! We might as well get some sleep while we wait for Silmar. It’s too wet to go out right now an’ we won’t see where we’re goin’ anyway. Oh, we need to make ready to fill our water-skins.

Five men ambled over to the group of companions and one asked if they could parley.

In a moment, Falcon replied. First though, I think we should try to build a fire using some of this wood that’s scattered around here. Can somebody round up a few men to gather some water outside? With that rain there should be some clear pools somewhere. He passed over six empty water-skins.

A shriek startled them. Hands flew to their weapons.

Wait! cried Taura. It’s Sushi.

The companions rushed to the cave mouth where the little dragon waited on the ground.

Could mean Juto’s still alive somewhere, Jasper cried, his gruff voice with a tinge of excitement.

She can probably take us to Jiutarô, Taura said. She bent down to the little dragon. Where is he, girl?

Sushi chittered and gave a squeal and looked up the hill above the cave mouth.

I’ll see if I can call Silmar and Billit back, the priestess said. She yelled Silmar’s name and listened as echoes came back from down the tunnel’s darkness. She was rewarded with a faint response. Come back! she yelled.

A reply came from the pitch-dark distance. It was a few minutes before the grey figures of the elf and the mage appeared with the beams from their light-tubes lancing through the darkness of the tunnels.

There’s slithering, crawling things down there, Billit muttered as he leaned against a rock.

Sushi? Silmar whispered. Then where is Jiutarô?

We’re not sure, said Taura. Sushi is impatient for us to follow, look.

The little dragon was frantically leaping about by the cave mouth, whistling and screeching.

Jasper stood by them, scratching at his thickly bearded chin. If she flew to us then ’e must be outside the tunnels somewhere.

One of the five men who had tried to talk to them moments before ambled over and said, Most likely the ground fell in when the chamber collapsed so he might be down inside buried under it all. Best take ropes if you have them.

We got one rope, ’bout sixty foot, an’ some fine rope what that assassin had. It’ll have ter do. We can’t all go, need someone ter look after this crowd.

We’ll do it, the man said. Name’s Varengo. You get off to find your pal. Don’t forget to come back though, he added with a toothy grin.

With a little effort using Jasper’s flint and steel, Varengo and his men soon had a number of fires burning and groups of freed captives sat around warming themselves. The companions followed the little dragon up the hill above the cave mouth.

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Jiutarô had managed to push himself backwards a couple of feet. More detritus fell from him and his upper body was soaked by the rain. His legs were covered by something heavy that he took with him but now he could turn his body so that his hands were below him, at shoulder level. He pushed hard; he was on his hands and knees and could hold himself up on the flat section of pillar. He looked behind him to see what was on his legs. It was a head! A stone head from a statue lay across his calves. With a shove, it rolled onto the floor. He raised himself up and sat on the column. The little finger of his left hand was bent backwards at an unnatural angle. He gritted his teeth, took hold of the finger, pulled it straight. It would throb for a while.

A familiar shriek! Sushi! He could sense she was close. He closed his eyes and the image of the ground and five bedraggled, rain-soaked figures formed in his mind.

There was a sudden flurry of movement above him as Silmar lowered himself down a rope and greeted the samurai. We are so pleased to see you, Jiutarô.

I, um, happy see you.

Are you well?

Hai, I well. This – He indicated his finger. It was beginning to swell.

Broken? Silmar asked.

Not now!

Good. We go up now.

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The companions sat around the fire inside the cave. The torrential rain had stopped just as they returned, soaked through to the skin. The companions sat around a fire and warmed heir hands.

Brilliant! muttered the dwarf. Why couldn’t it’ve stopped when we went out? Nobody responded.

Varengo, the apparent leader of the five men, ambled back to the companions. Look, he said. We five have been fighters in the past, soldiers and adventurers, haven’t we lads?

The others nodded in agreement.

He continued. All the others over there have decided they want to peel away and go back to their homes. Fair enough, I say. Well, us five reckon that if it’s good by you, we would like to join you and travel with you awhile. If you don’t mind, that is. We heard you saying you were going east and that’s the way we’re going, too. We’re, erm, handy in a fight and not bad with decent weapons. It wasn’t us what complained about the water, we’re better than that. What do you say?

Silmar and Jasper looked at each other and paused in thought. Finally, it was Silmar who broke the silence.

Look, we aren’t looking to make our group any bigger than it already is. We’re adventurers of a sort, too, but we’re not in it for making a vast fortune.

Aye, but hold it just there, Silmar, interrupted Taura. She had been on the edge of sleep while relaxing by the fire. "We’re not looking to ignore gold or gems or anything else we might find. With the task we are doing, it wouldn’t do us any harm to take extra support. It seems a good idea to me."

Aye, then, Varengo continued, it’s no secret you were hunting Darkling but now you’ve seen there’s more of ’em out there somewhere so you’ve maybe got some problems. All I’m saying is that we’re happy to join in and help if you want it. We’re not too bothered about equal shares of the treasure with you, but we would be happy to be your escort, night watch, fighters, or whatever, for a fair pay. What do you say?

Jasper spoke up straight away. I says aye to that, but the rest of our group needs to agree. He looked at Taura, Silmar and Billit and they nodded in agreement. Jiutarô and Falcon were both sound asleep. We can pay yer but only if we collect gold on our travels. You’ll need to buy yerselves some decent weapons an’ stuff when we get to a town. If we can afford it there’ll be a bonus when you do battle or show a quality. ‘Appy with that?

The man nodded keenly. That will be great. Really great! If it weren’t for you all coming and rescuing us, we would have all soon been dead an eaten for sure. Some women captives were taken away one at a time. We think the Grullien wanted tender meat. We just hope it was quick for them; we heard no screams. Like I say, we all have some soldiering and campaigning experience and a couple of us are skilled with tracking, hunting and foraging for food.

Billit spoke wearily for the first time. It will free up some time too, he said. This would give me some time me to study my new spells and Taura to chat with her god. You know who we are, guess you’d better introduce yourselves to us.

Their leader was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered with a ready smile. He kept his fair hair tied back with a cord and his beard trimmed short although it was somewhat unkempt since he had been held captive. He smiled broadly as he brandished the battered short-sword he had been given in the Grullien city. Well, I’m Varengo, I like a long-sword I can hold with two hands if I can get one; this little pigsticker will do for now. I can ride well on horseback; we all can.

He introduced the first of his four friends. The man was slim and of medium height. His long, black hair was tied back but his beard had once been trimmed quite short; hacked short would have been a more apt description. This is Vallio the hunter. Best tracker I ever knew. He’s expert with a bow and will be more than happy with that old short-sword. We must get you a bow, buddy.

Aye, responded Vallio, or I can make one if we can get a bowstring. Arrows I can make dead easy.

Varengo indicated the next man; short but athletic with unkempt long, brown hair and beard. This here is Jassio, he doesn’t stop smiling even in combat. He can ride horses better than any man I’ve ever seen but you were once a horse-thief weren’t you, Jassio?

Jassio grinned back and shrugged. I never got caught though so nobody could prove a thing!

But he can make a short-sword sing, Varengo continued, and he can throw a dagger and split a bee at twenty paces.

Varengo then pointed to a man squatting next to the fire. He was short but very stocky with sandy-coloured hair and beard, all cropped very short. Tattoos adorned his arms, chest and the top of his head. Morendo here, he is the crazy man; another hunter and swordsman. He was a horse-thief along with Jassio and has this amazing way of calming down a skittish horse. Lastly, but not leastwise, Yoriando. He indicated the last man, tall, broad-shouldered and athletic with long, wavy, black hair and a long, pointed beard. He waved his left hand showing where he had lost the little finger and half of his index finger. Yori and me have fought together for many years, since we were young, he explained. He can find a way through impossible terrain; very handy sometimes. Good with a sword, amazing with hand-axes and throwing daggers but you want to see what he can do with bolas and an ensnaring net. Well, were going to grab a bit of sleep ready for dawn if that is good with you.

Strength in numbers, murmured Silmar after the five men moved away. But we keep our business to ourselves.

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The six companions were seated or laying around a small fire a little way back from the cave’s mouth. Billit was instructing Jiutarô in the Universal tongue once again. Their five new comrades were either resting or collecting what weapons and scraps of food and water they could find in the cavern. They took time to bid farewell to their fellow captives who had decided, against the advice given by their liberators, to leave the cave straight away now that the rain was abating. The countryside outside of the cave was their homeland; they knew the best ways back to their farms and villages. They were many, fairly well armed with crude and old weapons, still harbouring the anger that would sustain them during their travel which would encourage the weaker ones if need be.

Being the one with decades of experience, Jasper gave words of caution for everyone in the cave.

Before yer goes off, if yer been captive for some time, ’ware the sun on your skin – it will burn you. When the sun comes up, ’ware your eyes in the bright light, yer ain’t used to it. Keep together, work together an’ share the chores.

The sight, smell and touch of the ground gave the large group of ex-captives all the encouragement they needed for their forthcoming march. Without waiting, but with words of gratitude and a cheery wave to their saviours, they started on their march towards the south-east. Although they didn’t all know where they were, they were determined to find their homes and families, their villages and farms.

The dishevelled bunch was soon out of sight. The dwarf picked up his blanket and pack. Scratching his head, he asked, Where are we, anyways?

Silmar watched the faint glow of the rising sun to the east as it appeared through a pass in the very tall, rocky hills. His keen eyesight carefully scanned the countryside before the cave. No threats were visible, fortunately, but he knew that this would be no guarantee of their safety. The fresh air was a welcome relief. Elves were not comfortable below ground. The fading moon and stars were now barely discernible in the sky.

We are at the northeast point of the Spine Wall peaks. Ye gods! That means we must have done about twenty-five leagues through the mines.

The companions and their five new comrades strode out of the cave onto the meadow and looked down at the damp grass under their feet.

I never thought I would see this again, said Varengo. It makes me feel like ripping all my clothes off and running arse-naked through the grass!

Please don’t, Yoriando gasped. It won’t be a pretty sight!

Oh, I don’t know! mused Taura.

The others roared with laughter. Falcon raised an eyebrow.

As the sun rose above the peaks to their east, the group of adventurers silently and grimly filed out of the cave’s mouth. They still sat by the one remaining fire inside the cave.

Where we going from here? asked Falcon, eager to be as far away from the cave as quickly as possible and under the skies once more.

East, towards Cascant, replied Silmar. But I want to look at the tracks of the Dökkálfar, the Darkling, riders first. It wasn’t difficult; the hoof prints were plain enough to follow in the soft ground. Aye, they are heading straight for that range of hills way off to the east there. Now we have the added risk of them ambushing us.

Does that mean we are following Darklings? asked Varengo. Shit! You’re either brave or stupid!

Jiutarô stepped forwards and looked Varengo in the eye. Iee, not stupid.

The elf considered this for a moment and then rummaged inside his pack. He grimaced as his hand came into contact with the box holding the burden. It was freezing. Swallowing hard, he pulled out a roll of vellum. I don’t believe we have much of a risk at present, he replied as he rolled out the vellum on the ground. This is Halorun Tann’s map drawing. Somewhere, probably a few leagues to the south, is a track that should take us to the city of Gash. If we find it, we should get to Gash quite quickly and then we can use the busy road eastwards. But we could also go straight across the plain to Nasteed.

Jasper leaned forward to get a better view of the map.

From Gash we go eastwards to Nasteed, Jasper observeded, through the Dragon’s Teeth, across Polduman, through the Brash Mountains, into Kamambia and then up to Carrick Cliffs. This is a choddin’ long and choddin’ perilous journey an’ we shall ’ave to start it on foot. I think we need to see what Varengo says ’cos ’e might know these lands. We ’ave far to go and will need ’orses or ponies. Or a cart. The gods only know that I do not like to ride on them beasts. They are cruel and vicious!

What? exclaimed Taura. Nonsense!

It’s choddin’ true, girlie! They bites yer at the front end, kick yer at the back end. And while you are nursin’ that damage, they swishes yer with a tail that’s half full of shi-, er, dung!

They all laughed, as did their new comrades; it was good to hear mirth and humour again after so long.

The recent rains had left pools of clear water in crevices in the rocks just outside the cave entrance. With some encouragement from Taura, the five men were soon washing off weeks, or months, of grime and filth from their bodies. The companions used this opportunity to talk quietly amongst themselves.

Silmar quietly explained how he had been feeling the influence from the artefact, or the burden as they referred to it, throughout the whole of their journey through the Shadow World.

You kept that quiet, Taura observed.

Aye, I know but we had enough to worry about. My head ached almost constantly. I was sure I could sometimes feel the nearby presence of the Dökkálfar but it may just have been my sixth sense which rarely lets me down. I do think we must keep the artefact secret from our new friends for now. What they don’t know, they can’t reveal to others.

They all agreed readily. Taura suggested that the Darkling, or any other being with arcane ability come to that, might also be able to feel the burden’s energy or evil. "What do you imagine would happen if they could? Would it draw an enemy to us? Would an evil cleric feel it and understand its presence? It could be the best way of saying Here we are, come and get it! that there could be."

Probably, conceded Silmar. What about you though. Can you feel its influence?

She shook her head slowly. Nay, she replied. But then, I don’t consider myself and evil cleric. I can be bad at times, though, when the mood takes me! She looked up at Falcon and gave a wicked grin. He winked back.

Then I don’t think we need to worry unduly about anyone else sensing its presence.

They agreed quietly not to inform their five new allies about it. The least they know, said Silmar, the better for themselves and for us. Any signs shown by me of its effect could be attributed to other excuses. I need to wash!

After a while, Varengo and his men returned. Their clothing was wet but they looked, and smelt, much more presentable.

I think I know roughly where we are, murmured Varengo. Gash is less than forty leagues directly south and the Great East Silk Road runs about eighty leagues eastwards towards Nasteed. That is a tidy way. I would say that if we were to walk south-east direct to Nasteed there are very few roads and a great big marsh, and it will take a few ten-day weeks because the land is rough. I reckon we go south to Gash and see if we can buy ourselves a wagon and ponies. What do you say?

Silmar considered this for a moment. I daresay you’re right, he said. A ten-day week to get there, maybe less if the weather stays good. There are farmsteads in that area with tracks for the farmers to move their cattle and crops to the city.

I reckons them roads will be watched, replied Jasper, ’specially as at least eight Dökkálfar are still out there somewhere.

But what if there are more or they split up into groups? responded Billit. Prob’ly means they can watch more roads an’ they got horses or ponies too!

Aye. There were at least eight ponies, but most likely a few more, answered Silmar. I should have looked at the tracks more carefully.

Eight ponies, said Falcon.

Varengo spoke up again. Aye, but, remember, the assassin and two Darkling were killed in the tunnels and it is likely that there were ponies for them too. So there may be many but probably not more than six to eight.

Good thinking. Still a formidable force, even with our party of eleven, mumbled Jasper.

The Darkling may well rest up during the day and only travel during the dark, suggested Taura. They are not suited to moving in sunlight, are they?

Assassin did! Jiutarô reminded them. He had been playing tug with Sushi, using a piece of black rag that had been lying on the ground. She had caught a small lizard a short while ago, playing with it as a cat would play with a mouse, then had eaten it.

Silmar sighed. We can’t assume anything here. We must remain on our guard but even more so during the night.

Aye, keep watch for their tracks, Jasper advised them. and see if they split up. They won’t risk fire so there won’t be smoke. He was poking at the fire with a small stick and sparks flew up towards the top of the cave. "We must keep our fires low."

Falcon spoke up. "I know some of these lands, too. I been here before in my wanderlust. Best keep off the roads, they not safe, use small tracks where we can. That way we do best to avoid trouble."

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Varengo led the group out from the cave into the dawn’s light. The day was already very warm in stark contrast to the occasional numbing cold they had experienced during their march up the coast road towards Northwald City, so many tenday-weeks before, but clouds rushed in to hide the sun. The ground here was different too. The soil was poor and dry at higher levels, despite the recent heavy rain, and very sandy. Gorse, blackthorn and hawthorn bushes grew in clumps and a tall, coarse grass waved in the soft breeze. As the party moved through valleys and into low ground they found that they had to wade sometimes ankle deep in waterlogged soil. The skies remained overcast but the rain held off. As the first day wore on, so gaps appeared in the cloud and the sun shone warmly upon them. The cleret-wing dragon spent a little time flying above the group but, having been underground for such a long time, she found that she tired quickly.

Water had been plentiful and their water-skins were full. Food was another matter, however. Stomachs were growling particularly now the food they had been eating was no longer quite so palatable to them in the open air. Jasper’s warning to the other group of freed slaves had been well founded. By the end of the first day, Taura was treating sunburned foreheads and noses with an orange-coloured salve from her bag of healing paraphernalia.

There had been no sign of other travellers during that first day. They did see remnants of old stone huts, their roofs having long been lost. Stone walls had once encircled small enclosures. Most of the walls had collapsed and were little more than piles of rock. The travellers found it difficult to avoid moving in a straight line because of obstacles that were hidden in the overgrown grass. They were relieved to have seen no sign of the Dökkálfar group’s pony tracks. Falcon had said that he would know them if he saw them. As late afternoon approached, Varengo suggested they find a suitable spot for a camp.

Sushi help look, suggested Jiutarô. He looked quietly into her eyes, no words were spoken, and she flew off. The Samurai moved off to one side and sat hunched with his hands partly covering his eyes. Within a few moments, the cleret-wing dragon returned and perched on his shoulder. She was exhausted and panting deeply. The samurai led the party between two low hills to a narrow, steep-sided valley. Stunted trees and bushes lined each side of the valley and a narrow stream flowed over a stony bed. A stone hut perched on a small plateau that was edged with a tumbled stone wall. It had no roof whatsoever.

Jasper was pleased with the cover provided by the valley. This is ideal, Jiutarô, he complimented. Sushi ’as done well. This is good water too. We need somethin’ to eat though. Me choddin’ stomach is flappin’ against me backbone. Who’s a huntin’?

Jiutarô and Morendo followed the stream up the slope to find food. It was getting quite dark when they returned with a small mountain goat and a sack that wriggled.

He’s a damned good bowman! exclaimed the Morendo. He killed a pair o’ rabbits, a long way off too, with a single arrow.

I may be wrong but it looks uncannily like a goat to me, Taura laughed. Where is the rabbit then?

Stolen!

Taura looked incredulous. What? she gasped. Stolen? By whom, may I ask?

Jiutarô laughed but Morendo looked hurt. A buzzard took it! Hah! he huffed. But I brought down a young wild-hog alive as well.

With a watch set by the warriors in the party, the group settled down to sleep at around midnight. The lack of blankets for the five men was going to be a problem. The skies were clear and the moon, although just above the eastern horizon, provided a lot of light. The valley, accordingly, was cold that night.

They didn’t care too much, they were well away from the Shadow World and out in an environment that they understood.

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CHAPTER 2

T HE GROUP HAD been walking along what appeared to be the best, and safest, route for a few days. The last couple of days had been grey and overcast but what rain fell was light and short-lived.

Yer reckon we’re still in the ‘Ome Territories? muttered Jasper. There ain’t much in the way o’ game fer us to catch. I’m so ’ungry I could eat a rotten dog! The Home Territories were the collection of realms on the Landsdrop Coast to the west.

If we catch one, you can have it, chuckled Yoriando.

Aye, the border with Shordrun is still some leagues to the east although it passes almost through the centre of Gash. We know these lands, don’t we, Yori? Varengo stated.

Yoriando nodded in agreement but his expression was not one of good cheer. Aye, we battled here years ago and lost a few good men on the way. They called the area the Wild Lands then. But we helped tame them before we went back east, didn’t we? But now, if we continue south’ards and are fortunate enough to find a better way without encountering the giants, wild-wolves, goblins and dragons, we should reach Gash in a few days.

The track was so old, disused and overgrown that it would occasionally disappear without warning. The group stumbled through long grass following the remnants of old tracks and even watercourses when they could. Snakes were a constant worry since Billit uttered a shriek when he almost stepped on one. At about six feet long, coloured orange with black bands around its body, it was almost sure to be poisonous. Whether it was or not was something they would not leave to chance.

Make a lotta noise as you walk, advised Vallio. Snakes will move outa the way. They’re a long way more scared of you than you are of it.

They suddenly emerged from the long grass and onto a narrow road which curved towards them from the west. It looked as though it was still in occasional use because of the fresh-looking wheel ruts and cattle-hoof prints. They followed it southwards.

Now we need to keep a watch out for riders, advised Silmar. I think this is the old road from Northwald City that passes around the top of the Spine Wall Peaks and goes down to Gash. If it is, it fell out of common use when goblins started moving into the northern part of the peaks. But these tracks show that some farming folk are still using it.

The way I see it, we need to march south on this track ’til we reach Gash and the Silk Road, suggested Yoriando. Where are the towns or settlements?

Varengo marked the map with an indentation on the trade route that ran south from Nasteed. He indicated Harrick, a hundred leagues or so south of the great city. This is a stopping place for caravans and traders, he explained. The town elder is a Hoshite sympathiser who does not tolerate adventurers. Now, if I remember aright, there is a minor road that runs from about twenty leagues east of Gash, on the Silk Road, across the moors straight to Harrik.

The Hoshites were from a country hundreds of leagues to the east that were steadily moving westwards. They were known to be greedy and often quite brutal.

Aye, you got it right, said Yoriando. The trade road from Nasteed is well-travelled by ‘Shite soldiers as well as by merchant caravans. The district government in Nasteed is believed to use them as mercenaries to provide a measure of rule in eastern and southern Shordrun but as yet they don’t have much authority in the city itself. As you cross into Polduman the ‘Shites do not take kindly to adventuring parties like us and they won’t just stop us, they’ll search us and take what they want, including money, weapons and horses. We may even find ourselves in a pitch-battle if they are a big force and we try to resist. Adventurers are seen as a threat to the Hosh authorities in Harrik.

The Hoshites seem to have come a long way west, murmurred Silmar. They must be hundreds and hundreds of leagues west from West Hosh.

Aye, you’re right, said Varengo. But with the Polduman State not having the manpower to provide a military force west of the Dragons Teeth Mountains, they have an arrangement with Hosh and now the soldiers are oozing westwards like a mud slick into Shordrun, reason being that they come cheap. Trouble is that they’ve brought corruption with them and they are bleeding the caravans dry with their tolls and fines. It is likely that Hosh agents watch the caravans as they set out from Nasteed so the patrols and checkpoints know what is being transported and when. As for us, we’ll need to keep clear of the Great East Silk Road and the ‘Shites may even have agents watching the moor road down to Harrick too. They are said to be as thick as fleas on a goblin’s balls!

Taura scowled with distaste at Varengo’s expletives but said nothing.

Tell us about the Great Moor, said Billit.

Oh aye, he continued, as if the Spine Wall peaks aren’t bad enough, you have the dangers of the Great Moor, with its infestation of gnolls and orcs and ogres.

Gnolls and orcs I know, said the gnome, his voice gruff. Not so sure ’bout ogres.

Oh shit! grumbled a very grumpy Jasper. What sort o’ lands are we travellin’ in ’ere? We could not ’ave left the mine tunnels in a more desolate and dangerous place! Well, I Suppose we can’t all go onto the trade road and into Harrik. We’ll stick out like, like a sore coc–

Jasper! snapped Taura. Your language is far from the Universal tongue.

Grumpy girlies! I woulda said it were completely Universal. Look, I got an idea. It’s another three-day walk to Gash, we reckons, don’t we lads? We need some money, right? So we need to get a ride on a caravan towards ‘Arrik, offer our services as protection an’ earn a bit o’ gold too. Might even be able to shake off some o’ them Hoshites down there.

Then what are we waiting for? prompted Varengo. Let’s get on with it!

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They trudged ponderously towards the city of Gash for three more days. A torrential downpour on the second day had turned the sandy surface of the track into a quagmire. The two hours of rain had taken two days to dry out. During this time, Jasper had continuously complained about the mud filling his short, heavy, iron-shod boots. The others had tolerated his whingeing and grumbling until the morning of the third day. Their patience with the dwarf was growing thin.

Taura was the first to break. She rounded on the dwarf with uncharacteristic fury. "Will you stop your chodding whining, Jasper? she yelled. It rained! It is muddy! Your boots are full! There is nothing to be done about it. We’re all the same. Take your boots off once in a while. When did the sun last see your feet?"

Mah feet ain’t s’posed to come outa mah boots, girlie! the dwarf retorted loudly. If they was, we wouldn’t need boots, would we?

So, how do you–? she began but ended her question with a shrug of her shoulders. Just stop complaining and whining and protesting and whingeing and –. Just stop, that’s all. She spun around and turned her back on him.

What did I do? the dwarf asked nobody in particular with a shrug of his shoulders.

The others wisely kept quiet with their eyes looking straight in front or cast down on the road surface. Jasper mumbled incoherently for a short while but then became quiet for the rest of the day. By the next morning, after having spent half the night on watch, he was his usual chatty self and continued to be for the following day, encouraged, no doubt, by the improving track conditions. They kept a continuous and meticulous watch around them. Although there were clusters of shrubbery and patches of foliage and heather, there was very little which would provide protective cover in the event of an attack by Dökkálfar or other undesirables.

Finally, before midday on the third day and from the vantage point of a rise, they saw the large trading city of Gash sprawling below them. The air above the city shimmered in a dusty haze and wisps of smoke from countless cooking fires trailed vertically into the air. Spires, domes, minarets and towers rose up from various places inside the city walls.

Those are the back gates of the city, Varengo pointed out to them. "They keep ’em closed. All entry and exit is done