Chapter 9: Talismans and Talisman Masters
THE journey on foot from Yezero to the Royal Capital of Kujh took five days. The group of six tied their packs to Sissel and Turek’s two horses and walked the distance alongside them. Ori and Mouru planned to borrow more horses at first, but since the key person—Unen—couldn’t ride, they decided to travel by foot to the capital.
Golden wheat fields, close to harvest season, glistened under the sunlight. The comforting sight of abundant crops ripened by the summer sun’s dazzling rays made the heat slightly more tolerable. Finding some relief from the sunlight under the roadside trees, the party crossed into the neighboring territory of Chelveny just past noon.
The sun was still too high in the sky to stop and lodge for the night, so they passed through the town of Harrow standing right on the border between the two territories, where Ori and Mouru had stayed for a month before arriving at Yezero.
I wonder which inn Mouru was left behind at for his flirting. Unen glanced around the shops lining the road.
Irena grinned at her. “You’re finally back to your normal self.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve had your head stuck in the clouds ever since we left your house, Unen.”
I kind of knew I was out of it, but it was so bad that someone else noticed?
Embarrassed, Unen lowered her voice. “Was I acting that strange?”
“You weren’t being strange. I mean, it’s not normal for commoners to get invited to the castle by the king. Anyone would be in a world of their own after getting an invitation like that.”
Unen felt as if she were walking on clouds for several hours after she held her head high and told Sissel and Turek that she would go to the castle with them. Even after she packed her pack again like she had for the previous week’s surveying job, bid Milosh and his family goodbye, left town, and began to walk the highway under the blazing sun, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that her trip to the capital was all some long dream.
Maybe, she had hoped, her name would reach the king’s ears someday if she kept making maps for a long time. Perhaps he’d take an interest in her. And, if he somehow did, she could take that opportunity as her first real step into the wider world. The far-fetched dream that had been built on ifs, maybes, and somedays had suddenly fallen into her lap. Keeping her calm would’ve been far more unnatural than daydreaming about what was to come.
Unen slowly inhaled, and exhaled. Whatever may come of it, all she could do was give it her all. She clenched her fists tightly. Let’s do this!
Irena playfully roughed up her hair.
✦ ✦ ✦
THE sun set before they arrived at the next town, so they set up camp on the side of the road. Incidentally, it was the night of the new moon. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell where there were holes in the road, what rocks and objects had fallen off carts, and where pieces of the path might have dropped off.
After a meal of dried meat and hard biscuits that had been prepared for moments just as this, Unen laid down with her blanket wrapped around her. Both Unen and Irena had been removed from night watch due to Sissel and Turek’s insistence. Irena initially argued that she didn’t need special treatment, but she canned it with a sheepish expression when they told her that it was unacceptable to their code of honor as knights.
“I’ve set up ‘traps’ around the campsite so it’ll be okay if someone accidentally falls asleep during their shift, but please be mindful of them. Don’t walk away from the camp without letting me know,” Mouru informed them, as he moved around the camp making weird rustling noises.
Silence settled in shortly after he finished.
✦ ✦ ✦
A furious uproar struck after midnight.
“What the ‘ell?!”
“Damn it!”
“What’s goin’ on?!”
“Holy crap!”
Unen’s group woke to the sounds of loud cursing in the absence of light.
Murmurs brushed by Unen’s ear just as a soft glow lit Mouru’s hand. There was no mistaking the wooden tag in his hand—it was a talisman.
Then, I was right to think that the Murmurs are related to magic? Unen pondered. Meanwhile, the curses unfurled even more hatefully.
“Piece of shit!”
“Don’t screw with me!”
“Die!”
“Man, I’m such a lucky mage to have them fall right into my traps so perfectly.” Chuckling with pure delight, Mouru held the talisman up high. Magic light dispelled the darkness in the area, exposing struggling men, their legs caught in the ground, three meters away.
“…Were you sleeping?” Ori growled, scowling.
The mage whose night watch shift it had been made an exaggerated face of surprise as he shook his head. “Me? Never. I just didn’t think it warranted waking everyone up since they didn’t seem to have any projectiles. Man, they fell right into the trap one after another like a comedic act!”
“Damn you! Spineless cowards! Do something about my legs or I’ll kill ya!” barked the largest, bulkiest man. He swung his weapon around uselessly.
And it doesn’t make you a spineless coward for attacking travelers in the cover of night?
Apparently, Unen wasn’t the only person to have thought that, for Turek retorted, “Is that something a lowlife highwayman should be saying?”
He squared his rugged shoulders and pulled rope out from his bag. With Mouru in charge of lighting the area, the remaining three men followed suit and tightly tied up the highwaymen.
Mouru’s trap was a spell that temporarily turned the ground into a bog. Once it caught prey, it reverted to its original solid composition. All eight highwaymen now had their hands bound in addition to being firmly lodged in the hard ground up to their shins.
Everything their attackers had on them was dangerous. Broadswords, short swords, hatchets, and even morning star clubs. Unen sighed at the sight of all the weapons piled together. They could practically open a weapons shop right there and then.
“Saints preserve us! No one can claim they didn’t come well-armed,” Sissel remarked disdainfully after the last weapons joined the pile. “Should we assume they come from these outskirts, considering they carry almost nothing on them aside from their gruesome weapons?”
“Probably,” Mouru replied perfunctorily. He turned to Ori. “Do you recognize any of them?”
“No,” Ori said without a moment’s delay.
Ori mentioned before that he had no issue remembering faces. But it was more like he had a talent for it.
“How do you want to deal with these men, Lord Sissel?” Turek asked.
“We can’t safely escort so many highwaymen to the appropriate authorities…” Sissel folded his arms at his chest as he contemplated further. “It would be one thing if we were in the capital, but there is not much for us to do inside another lord’s territory. Let’s leave them bound and stuck in the ground and entrust their punishment to the next town’s mayor or vigilante group,” he decided.
The highwaymen spat out even dirtier curses.
Unen shuddered at the thought of being left outdoors in the midsummer heat with her hands tied behind her back and her shins lodged in the rock-hard ground. She felt just a tad sorry for them. Or she had, until she took another good look at the mountain of sharp weapons piled at her feet. Well, they got what they deserved.