The Wizard’s Gamble – Chapter 3

II

“It’s exactly what I’ve told ye”, said one of the surviving sailors of the Breezy Jack, pointing a crooked finger to Hayden. “He ran through the deck like a wolf and faced the fiend head-on!”

A crowd of crew members from the vessel Wayfarer – which had timely come to the rescue of the sinking Breezy Jack – and some of the other survivors were gathered around the experienced sea hound, switching their gaze between the speaker and the silent man near the edge of the quarterdeck.

Hayden wouldn’t believe what they were telling about him, his memory was not very clear also, but he knew that what that old sailor and some other survivors were telling could not be true.

He did remember seeing the sea serpent coiling around the Breezy Jack’s hull and turning its attention to him.

“He ran to the creature and the horrid beast trudged against him as well. He then found one of the cannons, turn it ‘round, lit the wick – and that I have no idea how he managed to make fire with all that wind and in so little time – and then the canon fired precisely when the beast was opening wide its mouth to devour him…BAAM!!” the crowd jumped in excitement, “the canon fired and blasted the upper head of the gigantic snake apart!”

That Hayden didn’t remember. Couldn’t even imagine it, he hadn’t ever used a canon in his life, always have been a cattle herder, never took on the sea and that monster was the biggest he had ever seen. The Hayden he knew would never run head on to the behemoth and try his luck by firing a cannonball against the monster’s head, right at the moment when it was trying to eat him. Actually, that was a very suicidal and stupid idea.

That was all a misconception, there could be no other way: the serpent bit something explosive and died, he was the only one in the deck, so the guy who thought to have understood the situation made him a hero just to have an interesting story to tell.

However, he did remember, even if only vaguely, of a crooked man with a glass eye that met him in the sinking ship while boarding the cockboat.

He did say something like: “I’ll take care of these little nuisances and you take care of getting me back to where I want.” Hayden didn’t saw that unusual character again nor did he remembered seeing him in the Breezy Jack before the incident, and that was someone that could strike one damn first impression and didn’t even need to say a word.

And then, there was the conversation with Karlto when they boarded the Wayfarer. The guard from Worstrem asked if he was fine and he might have answered yes or something of the like, but Karlto had made a reference to when he found Hayden again in the Breezy Jack, after the encounter with the sea monster: “You were strange, Hayden. You were… not right,” the words came out of his mouth with a shiver. “You had a deep cut in your right palm, you were looking at the blood and smiling, speaking of coming back to the old house and making them all weep. Are you really alright?”

He couldn’t remember what he had answered then, and the fact that he couldn’t remember the most of what happened in about three days was concerning, mainly when he was considered a hero and a lunatic at the same time.

He looked at his right palm: the one Karlto mentioned to have a deep cut. He found a scar there, but not a recent one. Hayden knew very well what was that scar and with a bigger certainty he knew that he hadn’t bled from there on the last days.

It was all very confusing. Could it all have been a dream? Could this be a dream and he’s still aboard the Breezy Jack, sleeping soundly in a hammock?

Too many people were starting to approach him, fascinated with the possibility of speaking with the monster killer of the Breezy Jack. He promptly turned his back and went to the lower levels, to the small but private cabin that has been assigned to him in the short journey they had to make to Port Goldstone, wishing nothing more than to sleep.

“Has the offering been exposed to any kind of impurity?”

The one who was asking was the high priest of the Sect in Vamperstad’s area, and the offering was Sindha.

The girl was in the middle of a circle drawn on the stone floor, wearing nothing more than a long white gown and shivering with cold. Runes were also drawn next to the circle and several incense burners were positioned at the edges of the circle.

The high priest and two other monks were positioned in specific spots, making a triangle that had the circle with the offering inside.

“No, she hasn’t, holy brother,” replied another one. “What had happened to the offering might have been solely physical: a result of a distressful situation” he was referring, of course, to the fact that she was going to be sacrificed in a few days.

“Then all is done here” declared the high priest, turning its gaze to Sindha with a smile “You may dress yourself now, child. I will send a maid with an herbal infusion that will greatly calm your spirit. We will also be watching you more closely,” his smile broadened, revealing old yellow teeth, “just to make sure that you are safe.”

The girl was unsure why she has done what she did. Wandering in the woods until she had collapsed was completely illogical. Why would she go there in the first place? She was very lucky that a couple of lumberjacks were passing through there on the way home and found her.

Moments later, Sindha was brought home by a local priest. She was still wondering what happened in those woods, for she had lost all the memories concerning the footsteps and the invisible stalker.

They were in the living room where an appendage of the Provider grew in the center, like in all other households, providing warmth and an equally comforting soft yellow light.

Her mother, Walnya Rov, offered tea to the priest, but he refused, giving her the mixture of herbs that had been prepared to calm down Sindha.

“Your daughter told us she didn’t know the reason to be in the woods, so far away from the village, lady Rov.” He told the woman wearing a sad expression. “Might you know why?”

Walnya became distant from everyone, including her own daughter, since the day she was selected as the offering and her husband left home. Her only companions now were the “special mushrooms” she bought from a friend. Those could make it easy on everything, it was everything she needed and she could barely wait ‘till the priest walked out the door and Sindha went to her room to say hello to her new best friends once more.

“It’s the…” she couldn’t find the right words, “way of things.” Walnya managed to say and felt a surge of sadness starting to thump on her chest.

“I see.” Said the priest nonchalantly. “Where is your husband? I haven’t seen Hayden for a while.”

“He’s away” Walnya could feel the pillars of her strength giving away. Soon the tears would come. “Went to visit a sick cousin, he told.”

“Oh. That’s unfortunate.” The priest said without any emotion in it and the woman was shaking, right on the verge of crying herself out.

“I shall leave you now” he announced and Walnya couldn’t ask for anything better to happen on that day, but, before going, the priest still turned to Sindha with a grin: “I understand these might be distressful times, but remember, my child: our Provider likes to see a smile on his offerings when he welcomes them.”

He left and Walnya could take no more. She ran to the pantry, to munch on those mushrooms, and all the while she did it crying like a helpless child.

Sindha just stood there, wishing she had never been born.

The thump of a big wooden crate landing on the floor determined the end of the task for the crew of five men. It was nothing out of extraordinary: delivering supplies to the wizard; something they did every month on their small cargo boat.

Of course that this was a very important moment for Hayden, who desperately craved a meeting with the wizard. He helped move the crates, bags and barrels with the utmost care from the ship to the small wood storehouse nested on the other end of the neat and tiny wharf of Lone Watcher, the farthest hospitable piece of land from Zhedra, home of the Wizard.

“How long ‘till he arrives?” asked Hayden to the captain, a fat sailor of no young age and completely white hair.

“He? You mean the Wizard?” he looked over his shoulder, looking at the one who paid him back on Port Goldstone to come here. “He’s not coming.”

“What? Why not?”

The captain began to walk flimsily to a corner in the storehouse where was a desk with a small chest on it. The other crewmates were already getting back into the ship.

“He never comes. I’ve been doing this errand for the last fifty cycles or so and I’ve never seen the man.”

“How do you get paid, then?” The man opened the small chest and produced from it a velvet bag. He tilted it in one hand, making it rattle. “Oh, that way…”

“This is the payment for the last shipment.” Explained the captain, “Now I’ll leave the details of this one in the chest and, on the next time the payment will be here, I hope.”

“What if something is not of his liking?”

“He’ll leave a complaint note in the chest.” Meanwhile, the captain took a scroll from the chest and began reading it for himself.

“That a complaint one?”

“No, just the list for the next month.” He showed it to Hayden, who paid no mind to the groceries and other items listed by the Wizard, but noticed the name that signed the letter: Averon Harnatis.

The burly man went on, changing the subject: “As discussed before, there’s a small rowboat planted on the other side of the storehouse,” he pointed there and Hayden confirmed it, “as you’ve already figured, the route from here to Goldstone is pretty straightforward: just keep rowing northeast from here and you’ll be there in about two hours. Careful with the waves, don’t make to the sea with a boat like that when it’s rough.” He smirked and extended a hand to Hayden, as if asking for payment, he frowned for he had paid the journey there in Port Goldstone. “Perhaps it would be safer if I came here tomorrow or the day after to pick you up. I’ll make it half the price ‘cause you seem to be a nice guy.”

“Thank you, captain, but I’ll pass.” Part of Hayden felt as if it could regret that decision, after all he wasn’t a man of the sea and crossing from Lone Watcher to the mainland all by himself it could be risky and was surely reckless.

The captain turned his smile into an annoyed scowl. “Suit yourself, sailor.” He turned away, making his way back to the boat. “There’s a small cabin over there.” He didn’t point this time, “you can stay there until the wizard comes here and you take care of your affairs with him.”

“Thank you once more, captain. I will go meet the Wizard by myself.”

The captain stopped and looked back at Hayden, his jaw had dropped and a look of utter amazement was on his face. “Are you crazy, boy? This island has wild beasts that won’t think twice before making you their dinner!”

“I will take the risk.”

“You don’t look like a warrior, sailor. You don’t look as if you could even survive the small trip back on that rowboat.”

That sailor back on the Breezy Jack wouldn’t say that, thought Hayden.

“And besides, the Wizard doesn’t take uninvited guests. I don’t know what your errand here is, boy, but you’re just catching cold air here.”

“Thanks, captain.”

In a matter of minutes, the boat departed from the wharf, leaving Hayden alone.

He took a look at what extended beyond the landing place. There were trees and small unruly bushes scattered across dirt slopes and rugged patches of weeds. On the very center of the island, rose the Wizard’s keep from the rocky mount with the same dull brown color and harshness of the rock, standing tall over the rest of it like a silent emperor.

Clearly this was nothing like what he expected. Not that Hayden had a clear prediction of the place, he was just expecting something a little more… magical. Lone Watcher didn’t appear to be that way, in fact, it didn’t appear to be any way other than just another bleary landscape. No wonder the Wizard didn’t get visitors.

However, the captain’s warning about wild beasts roaming around would be to take into consideration. The whole landscape was perfect for predators to ambush their prey and, yes, Hayden was not the warrior-type at all.

Any sane soul would undoubtedly prefer to stay in the wharf’s shed and await the coming of the wizard (if he would come, that is, since such a person could have servants to do his bidding), but Hayden was consternated and in a dire need of hurry. His daughter was the offering for the Reaping and the day of the ritual was drawing near; that encounter with the sea serpent and the days that followed took a heavy toll on his schedule.

Which left him with no choice other than making his way to the Wizard’s keep.

Armed with nothing more than a small hatchet, Hayden took a deep breath and began. He would usually pray to the Provider, like most people of Zhedra, yet he seriously doubted the Provider would help anyone to work against his will and steal his offering.

He walked for almost an hour, avoiding places shadowed by trees and rocks, where creatures might lurk, keeping alert for any signs of movement nearby. While that wasn’t the fastest way to the keep, it seemed to be the safest.

And so he soon came to a creek. A thin river flowed rapidly through the muddy landscape beneath a dense set of clouds. A little further there was a crooked tree of dark wood, all its branches naked, with someone sitting next to the trunk, someone small. Hayden thought if it could be the Wizard. After all, he was supposed to be different from the majority of human beings, but, as he got closer and closer, he noticed that it was just a child.

A boy, wearing ragged trousers and nothing else. The whole climate on Zhedra ranged from cold to freezing and to be barefoot and half-naked outside was the same to be deadly mad or simply dead. Curiously, this boy didn’t seem to be bothered by the crispy chill of the wind.

‘You alright, boy?’ he called, only afterward thinking that the youngster mightn’t be even Human, but one of the so-called Devils of the Frost: wicked beings that are said to live in remote regions and prey on human beings.

The boy stared back at him with a warm smile, the kind is given to old friends and close relatives.

‘Hail, Stonebear!’, he said, very amused.

That name chimed in Hayden’s mind. He didn’t look at all like someone worthy of such a title, so the child would be praising someone called Stonebear. That or it was just the insanity speaking. Hayden paid no mind to it, however, he had already heard it somewhere.

‘Don’t you feel the cold?’

‘I feel no cold at all, silly.’ bemused the boy. ‘I know you do. Like everybody else. The only thing you feel more than cold it’s fear, Hayden.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘Come on, Stonebear!’ the boy seemed to be mocking at Hayden.

There was something about that child, Hayden knew it. It didn’t felt threatening to him, but he was too wary to trust him… or it.

The boy grinned. ‘I know why you’re here. You want the Wizard’s help.’

‘Yes, that’s right. Can you help me find the best way to reach him, boy?’

The boy kept grinning and, like a naughty child who’s picking on another kid, didn’t answer the question. ‘You want to get to him. But he’s selfish and will not help you.’ he smirked.

Useless to say that Hayden, very much unlike the child, was not having fun at all, and said the only thing a desperate man could say. ‘But I need his help. Only he can help me.’

‘He will help you if you give him what he wants.’

‘I’ll do it!’ he said readily, he would do anything to save his daughter, no matter what.

‘But do you know what the Wizard wants?’

There was no response. Hayden began to feel lost once more.

The boy made a gesture with his finger, beckoning him. ‘Come, Stonebear, I will tell you.’

Like a starved animal facing a meal, Hayden moved towards the boy, kneeling to be face to face with him. Gently, the youngster turned Hayden’s head with his small hands, his small dead cold hands, and whispered in his ear. The words crept into his brain like a spell and then, as if the child was a bulking man, he threw Hayden like a useless stone into the icy river.