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THE UNWILLING

Everything was normal for Fred until the old man showed up. Fred was a fine lad with his dark brown hair, fair complexion and dark eyes. He was also a serf by occupation and title, and that left him with little other choice but to labor on Lord Damskov's estate. Fred hadn't been born a serf, though. He was a freedman until his parents died when he was ten, and they left their debt to the lord unpaid. By law he was forced into the servitude of the debt owner, and there he remained for several years. The first ten years of freedom had given him an independent streak, but he kept his mouth shut to keep the peace. Days slipped into weeks, and then months, and still he continued to live and work on his lord's manor. Now he was a young man of fifteen, and still chained to the estate. That is, until the old man came and wrecked his life. The day started out as many others had before it. The sun rose and he along with it, and Fred had trudged out into the plots assigned for him to manage. There were several acres of crops to weed and water, and after that work was done he could manage his own little plot of dirt used to grow his own food. If Fred left the supply of food up to his lord then he would have died of starvation. Beyond his fields stretched miles and miles of farmland that traveled over the rolling hills, interrupted only by sparse clumps of trees and bushes, and the occasional manor. A river ran close to the manor on which he lived and wound its way west toward a town he knew existed but had never seen. He didn't have any curiosity to see it, either; he was far too busy tending his small patches of rocks and weeds. Fred was just setting to work when the old man came walking close by on the wide dirt path that led from the main road to the manor house. The boy was interested in this stranger, for strangers were a rare sight. Even more rare was such a stranger as this, what with his ragged brown cloak draped over his shoulders. The ends dragged along the ground behind him and covered any footprints he left in the dust. There was also the white, unkept hair which trailed down over the old man's shoulders and draped over the front and back of the cloak. He had wisps of white hair over his head, but his eyes were well-covered by a pair of bushy gray eyebrows and he had a long, white beard that stretched down to his waist. The old man carried a staff in his hand, but though his pace was slow and feeble he didn't lean his weight against it. Fred was startled when the stranger lifted his head and turned those old eyes on him. They were a bright blue, brighter than the clear sky above them, and held an energy which wasn't seen in his step. The old man tottered over to Fred and looked the lad up and down. A small smile graced his mustached lips, and he nodded his head. "Can such a fine lad as yourself tell me where I might find the nearest town?" the old man asked him. Fred shook his head. "I haven't been farther from this manor than a mile, and the town is somewhere beyond that to the west." "Can you help me find it? I am old and haven't much strength to be wandering over all these winding roads," the stranger requested. "I can't. I'm not allowed to leave the manor without permission from my lord." Fred dared not disobey his lord's laws. The stranger pulled at his beard, and the smile remained on his lips. "I see. Well, I suppose you wouldn't want to disobey your lord for a short adventure."

Femirate · Realistic
Not enough ratings
51 Chs

JOURNEY

The companions set about on their journey with their new mascot happily following behind. They reached the end of the tunnel in an hour and found that a golden gate with two doors blocked their path. Its two doors reached up into the ceiling and down into the floor, and there was only a speck of space between them. The hinges were hidden inside the rock on either side; beyond the gate lay the opening to the sunlit world. A large, solid gold lock sat between the two doors, and Ned stepped forward and pulled out the chain. He held up the item near the lock, and Fred flinched back when the chain came to life. It raised itself like a snake and shot into the lock. The moment the tail disappeared they heard a groaning sound from the gate.

Fred stepped back, unsure which way the doors would swing; they didn't swing at all. Instead they brightly glowed and slowly vanished, and the lock along with them. The only thing left in that space was the chain which floated in the air. Ned pushed the youngsters off to either side of the lock and nodded forward. "Hurry. This doesn't last long once the key is taken out."

They hurried forward with Fluffy close behind Fred, and all three turned around to see Ned step in front of the floating chain. He reached out his hand and snatched it from the air. The minute the chain was in his hand the gate popped back into existence. If Ned had been a second slower his hand would have been caught in the recreated lock. Ned pocketed the chain and turned to the others. "There now, nice and locked up."

"That is incredibly dangerous magic," Pat pointed out.

Ned nodded. "Indeed it is. It forces the user to pay attention, or they may lose the ability to count to ten." He walked past the three others and toward the light. "But we haven't time for talk. We have a capital to reach and only a few days to do it."

The companions walked toward the light and out into the bright, warm sun. The opening lay on the side of the mountain, and to their left they could see the side of the wall that surrounded the city. To their right a clear mountain stream ran off the back of the rocks and journeyed forward. Ned smiled at the bubbling creek. "This small thing is a tributary of the Greater Conchero River, which runs beside the plains of Salaron and beneath the bridge of the same name. That is the boundary of Ralcott, and beyond that is Galaron."

"How far is it?" Pat asked him.

Ned furrowed his brow. "I would say a few days journey by road, but since we must keep to the creek to avoid being seen it will take a week."

"A week?" Pat repeated in horror. "That hardly gives us time to reach the capital."

Ned pursed his lips and gave a nod. "Indeed, so let us hurry onward and hope we're not delayed any further."

They left the mountain behind them and followed the creek westward, but their exit didn't go unnoticed. A figure clad in black with a handkerchief over his lower face stood on a ledge above the cave and watched them leave.

The days passed by without incident, other than the three humans growing accustomed to their new drooling companion. Their food supply was severely depleted by Fluffy's prodigious appetite, but each day his strength improved and whenever any of the others were tired they would sit atop his back and go a distance.

Ned chuckled, but always abstained from riding. "Not until we have a proper saddle for him," he insisted.

"Can they be used like a horse?" Fred asked him.

"Of course," Pat spoke up. She patted the cantankus on the head and smiled when he pushed his face into her hand. "Many armies used to have divisions of mounted cantankus' before they were nearly wiped out."

Fred frowned. "Wiped out? Why? What happened?"

"They are notoriously difficult to breed," she replied. "And even their skin can't protect them from every sword blade, especially ones that are magically enhanced. Many fell in battles over the years and the armies could never make those up in younger cantankus, so they were eventually replaced with horses."

"So this guy's really rare?" Fred asked her.

Pat shrugged. "Yes and no. There's a lot in the wild, but the tamed ones are rare now."

Fred grinned and sat tall atop his rare steed. He would care for his new friend and train him to be the perfect cantankus to ride.

Their journey took them down the creek, and the scenery around them changed. The forests fell away and were replaced with open patches of ground. Two days before they would arrive at the bridge the only trees for cover were those along the creek, and even those were short, wiry water trees. With their cover gone and the road close beside them, Ned led them up onto the main path. The closer they came to the bridge the quieter he became until he would hardly answer their questions.

Finally Pat couldn't take it anymore, and sidled up beside him as they walked along the deserted road. "What's bothering you?" she asked him.

Ned glanced up at the sky. "There's something wrong in the air. These old bones can feel it."

Fluffy behind them let out a giant burp, and Pat waved her hand in front of her face. "Maybe it's that smell. That thing needs to be dunked in the creek," she scolded Fred.

The boy shrugged. "He doesn't like water except to drink it. Maybe he can't swim very well with these short legs."

Pat's shoulders drooped. "Great, stuck with a stinky animal for another two days." She noticed Ned didn't even crack a smile at their antics, and her own humor slipped off her face. "You're really that worried, aren't you?" Ned looked ahead and nodded. "Is it him? Lord Canavar?" Fred's ears perked up; he'd heard mention of that name once before.

Ned nodded again, and answered in a low voice. "I believe it is."

"Lord Canavar?" Fred repeated.

"A very dangerous fellow," Ned replied. "He's intent on ruining this wonderful walk with his pets. You witnessed his tricks with the tree creatures." Fred cringed. He would hate to see other 'tricks' by this fellow.

Fred sidled up to Fluffy and scratched behind the cantankus' ears. "Fluffy here will prove useful against Canavar's pets. Won't you, Fluffy?"

Pat rolled her eyes. "Two of a kind. Smelly, drooling, following their stomachs, and dumb as a post."

The group continued on until the road opened up into a large, unbroken field; they had reached the plains of Salaron. Spread out before them was green wild grass ringed on either side by thin trees. The creek they had followed weaved off to their right and toward the horizon to join with the Greater Conchero River. Far off in the distance was a bridge hewn from the local rocks, and the stone sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

Ned looked around and nodded. "We'll stop here for the night."

Pat's mouth dropped open and she pointed across the plain. "But we're almost there!"

Ned seated himself down on a nearby log. "And that is exactly why we must go slow and take every precaution." He nodded in the direction of the bridge. "The trip across would take several more hours which would get us there at about sunset. I would rather keep these weary old bones away from the cold of the river, and have my eyes capable of seeing any trouble."

Pat frowned, but she didn't argue. They set up camp and sat around a warm fire. Fluffy lay outside the sitting circle and gnawed on a bone he'd picked up somewhere. Fred didn't ask any questions, he didn't want to know. Instead the young man poked at the fire with a stick and the other two were depressingly quiet. Pat sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed," she announced.

"Goodnight," wished the two men.

Pat was soon snuggled between her two blankets, and that left the men to themselves. Fred had that Lord Canavar fellow on his mind, and when he was sure Pat was asleep he broached the subject. "You said something about a Lord Canavar. What's he trying to do exactly?"

Ned raised an eyebrow at the question. "You're very curious about him."

"And you two are really serious about him," Fred countered.

Ned sighed, leaned forward with both hands on his staff and furrowed his brow. "He is the main obstacle to the success of our mission."

"Mission? What are you doing?" Fred asked him. Ned pursed his lips together and didn't reply. The boy calmed his rising anger and inched closer to the old man. "I know this is going to sound funny after all this time, but I want to know the truth. All of it," Fred quietly demanded. "What you two are running from and why you need to get to the capital."

Ned raised an eyebrow. "The whole truth?" Fred nodded, and the old man sighed. He gazed into the flames for a long moment, long enough that Fred nearly repeated his order when Ned spoke up. "The truth is, my boy, that Pat is not her name, nor is it even Patricia. She is Elsa Lamikan, last of her knightly line and one destined for greatness. That is, if she isn't stopped from beginning her destiny."

Fred wrinkled his face. "Destiny? What is she, some kind of princess?"

"No." The person who spoke wasn't Ned, but Pat. She rolled over and glared at the pair. "I'm not that type." The girl sat up and laid her hands on her bent knees. "I'm a knight, like all my fathers before me. When I was born my mother had my future foretold by a person learned in such arts. It was foretold that, should I reach the capital city of Galaron on my fifteenth birthday then I would be the leader of a great army."

"Great? Not unstoppable or magical or anything?" Fred asked her.

Pat's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed together. "You think this is a joke? Haven't you seen enough to know that if magic exists there are other ways to use it than to destroy monsters?"

Fred flinched at her angered words. "I didn't think it was serious."

Pat jumped to her feet and marched over to him; her fisted hands shook at her sides. "It was serious enough for my parents to hide me away for the last fifteen years for fear evil would use me to conquer the world. I didn't-" She choked up for a moment, and looked down at the ground. "I didn't even get to see my mother before she passed away, nor my father." The girl composed herself and turned back to Fred; the fire reflected off the tears in her eyes. "So do you think I'm serious now?"

Fred didn't know what to say; he hadn't meant to hurt her. Ned coughed, and the pair glanced over to him. "Let's leave old wounds buried for now and stay focused on our more immediate troubles," he advised them.

Pat's anger cooled; she shot Fred one last angry glare and resumed her seat. "And those would be?" she asked Ned.

Ned picked up a stick and drew two parallel lines, then two more that snaked under those to represent a river. "The plains and bridge of Salaron are still ahead. We'll have no cover for several miles, and though the bridge is wide it's the only one across the river. Our enemies know that and will have set a trap for us there," he explained. He dragged his stick across a few feet of dirt before he reached his lines. "We will have only our powers and wits to help us."

Fred frowned and glanced over to the girl. "If you're so important then shouldn't we have any army to protect you?" he asked Pat.

Ned shook his head. "Too conspicuous. The Priests of Phaeton and I hoped to avoid a battle of armies until after she arrived at the capital."

Fred blinked. "Priests of Phaeton? Who are they?"

"The ones who raised me," Pat replied. "They worship Phaeton, an old god of fire and the sun."

Fred held up his hands. "So let me get this straight. A couple of priests, through a fortune-teller, have told you two to travel halfway across the world to get to the capital by Pat's fifteenth birthday, and this evil guy Lord Canavar is trying to stop you?"

"Not trying, exactly," Ned told Fred. "He wishes to use Elsa-"

"Could we just keep it at Pat for now?" Fred pleaded. "I'm having enough trouble keeping up with all these names."

Ned smiled. "Pat then. Canavar wishes to use Pat for his own ends, and to do that he must kidnap her."

Fred furrowed his brow. "And how is trying to kill her kidnapping her?"

"The attempt in the cave may not have been Canavar, but the trees certainly were," Ned explained. "Those beasts did try to pull her away from us, but you stopped them."

"So we're supposed to expect worse ahead?" Fred guessed.

Ned nodded. "If I'm not mistaken very much worse, but what it can be I can't guess."

"Great..." Fred mumbled.

Ned smiled, raised himself to his feet and walked over to the boy. He put his hand on Fred's shoulder and gave him a pat. "I'm sure with protectors such as we Lord Canavar can't defeat us." Ned glanced over to Pat. "And now we should get some real rest for tomorrow."

Pat smiled and nodded. The whole group went to their beds, but Fred didn't fall asleep immediately. His mind filled with horrifying images of monsters. He imagined the broken stick failing him, and him being tossed into the mouth of any number of terrifying creatures. Fred was so deep in thought that he yelped when something pressed up against him. A hand clapped over his mouth and Pat leaned over him. "Quiet or you'll wake Ned," she scolded. The old man lay a few yards off snoring in his sleep.

He pushed away her hand and scowled at her. "Maybe if you weren't trying to scare me," he hissed.

I wasn't, you're just easily scared, and that's why I wanted to talk to you," Pat replied. Fred raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. "You can't keep relying on your fear to use that staff."

Fred shrugged. "It's worked for me pretty well up to now," he pointed out.

"That's just not something somebody's supposed to rely on. What if you actually found some courage and found you couldn't use it? What then?" Pat asked him. The boy turned his face away; he didn't have an answer. "So I'm just telling you that you need to figure out another way of getting that staff out. If Ned can use his staff surely you can figure out how to use yours."

"I heard that," an old voice muttered. The two youngsters' heads whipped around to the other side of the fire, and Ned's amused eyes stared back. "Not bad advice, but perhaps he should learn to use his staff differently when the danger is over."

Pat scowled at Ned's dupe; the same one she'd pulled on them earlier. "I thought you had more faith in his abilities than that?" Pat scolded him.

"Faith is a powerful thing, but this is no time to try out something new," Ned countered. "Now get to sleep, both of you." He rolled over and soon the air filled with his loud, grunting snores.

The girl rolled her eyes. "How is anybody supposed to sleep over that?" she mumbled as she slipped off Fred.

"Pat?" Fred asked her.

Pat paused. "Yes?"

"I'll try to take your advice about controlling my fear."

She smiled. "You'd better. It's good advice."