Quests Volume One Read online

  Quests Volume one

  The Paths of Water and Air

  by Barbara G. Tarn

  ***

  Barbara G.Tarn copyright © 2017

  Cover Art by Shafali Anand

  electronic edition by Unicorn Productions

  February 2017

  ***

  Table of Contents

  The Path of Water

  The Path of Air

  About

  ***

  The Path of Water

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hinrik hurt everywhere. Inside and outside. Bruises, wounds, those he was used to. The rest, not so much. The smell of blood was overwhelming and he had an awful taste in his mouth.

  He forced his body to move and get off the ground, but his legs wouldn't sustain him, so he crawled towards the Ondan. He could hear and feel the river inside him. Luckily the battlefield wasn't too far from the river shore.

  The crawling peeled off what was left of his chainmail and clothes, but there weren't any living human beings around to notice. Crows filled the air with their caws, but none had glided next to him. The damned birds obviously knew he was still alive even when he was passed out.

  Hopefully Humans would think he was dead. Both friends and foes. He didn't think he could go through another battle and another defeat and another... aftermath at the hands of the bearded Varian soldiers.

  He was thirsty but at the same time wanted to throw up. The river came in sight and he found new strength to reach it on all fours.

  Water enveloped him and he closed his eyes. His face must be as bruised as his body, but the gentle current was like a healing balm, washing away the blood and dirt of the battlefield.

  He thought about his faithful war stallion, a beautiful blue roan that now lay butchered under the walls of Moriana. The city had fallen to the enemy and was now part of the quickly expanding Varian Kingdom. The efforts of the Salamar army, to which he belonged, had been in vain.

  Hinrik thought he'd let the river take care of him. Take him away. If he stayed in the current, he'd reach Salamar and by then he might have recovered enough to show himself to others. Or maybe he'd just let the river take him to the sea.

  For some reason, he knew he wouldn't drown. And even if he did, he was so hurt, he couldn't care less. He shivered, but not because the water was cold, more from a memory of what had been done to him.

  He could feel the sun on his face and hear the birds in the trees along the shore as he floated like a log, trying to forget the past day. Or was it the day before? He had no idea how long he'd been out after the Varian soldiers assaulted him.

  Much like a log, he bumped into a rock and opened his eyes. The walls of Moriana were somewhere upriver, hidden by the trees. The Ondan had gently brought him to the opposite shore in a safe, secluded spot. A weeping willow covered him and the water had given him back enough strength that he could finally sit up.

  He checked old wounds and new bruises. The chainmail had spared him new cuts, but he still hurt and probably still bled somewhere. Sitting was still quite uncomfortable, so he lay down again.

  Too much water usually hurt people's skin, but not him. For some reason water had healing powers over him. He could swim like a fish and couldn't be away from bodies of water – rivers, lakes – for a long time.

  He stared at the leaves of the willow above him, wondering what he should do with himself. A defeated warrior left for dead – might be a good time to start a new life somewhere else. But he should get his things from his house in Salamar...

  Flashes of the last battle and aftermath kept distracting him and made his thoughts scatter like scared rabbits. He wasn't strong enough to make a decision yet. He sighed as his stomach rumbled. He must be hungry too, but didn't dare ingest solid food at the moment.

  So tired, so sick of it all... he slowly pushed himself back to the middle of the river and then underwater, trying to sink like a rock to the bottom of the Ondan. He could find peace there and stop the pain in his body and soul...

  The river bottom was sandy and very soft. Hinrik closed his eyes and sighed.

  His eyes popped open again. He sighed? Underwater?

  He rose and looked around. He was breathing as if he were on the ground. He started to panic, but still no water was coming into his lungs.

  And then an androgynous man came, swimming like an eel, wearing only a nacreous sleeveless tunic. No facial hair and hard to determine his age, but he had chestnut brown hair like Hinrik.

  By then Hinrik's heart beat so fast, he thought it would stop. The swimmer stopped next to him and touched his face where he had felt a bruise.

  "Oh, Hinrik, what have you done to yourself?" he asked, frowning in worry.

  "I didn't do it myself," he snapped. "How do you know my name? How come I can speak underwater?"

  Slowly the man smiled, a smile very similar to the one Hinrik saw in the mirror when he shaved.

  "We weren't supposed to meet like this, but... welcome home, Hinrik."

  ***

  "There's the Ondan," Belfi said, pointing ahead at the blue ribbon of the river running through green shores.

  "At last." Bellinda snorted. "Can we camp now? I'm sick of this saddle!"

  "I think there's a perfect spot in that thicket." Belfi grinned.

  "Let's go, then," Keneith said, signaling his horse to move.

  The riders headed for the hazelnuts trees Belfi had pointed to. Bellinda looked forward to dismounting, even if it meant taking care of the horses while the men set up their tent.

  "How long until Salamar?" she asked.

  "We can probably be there tomorrow, my lady," Belfi teased. "You can have a real bed tomorrow night."

  "Thanks," she muttered. "I still don't understand why we travel on horseback when both of you know the instant transfer spells."

  "Because we like to see the country?" Keneith smiled. "Besides, I thought you loved horses."

  "I do!" She patted her bay mare's neck. "But it's tiring! I may not be doing all the walking, but the saddle isn't the most comfortable place to sit all day!"

  "We're almost there," Belfi said. His long, wavy, dark-blond mane moved around him as the wind picked up speed. "We should be protected from the wind over there."

  Bellinda nodded. What a strange trio of wandering half-bloods. The immortal Belfi, who was half Genn – hence the pointed ears – and half demon. The half-Fajrulo Keneith who had become a powerful wizard thanks to the magic in his blood. And her, a half-Genn with no pointed ears and hair too dark, but still with the power to heal through the golden magic powder of the Genn.

  They'd left Havenstock and the Varian army behind to get away from war. They weren't warriors and weren't interested in politics. They had earned some kind of respect for the obvious powers that came with the mixed blood, but they couldn't say they had found a place to call home.

  Belfi was their guide, since he'd been traveling those lands for almost four hundred years. And he still looked in his twenties, with his androgynous beauty and long hair. He wore a short green tunic over his leather breeches and had soft Genn boots that allowed him to control his mount.

  Bellinda might not look Genn at all, except for the color of her eyes and the fact that she grew old slower, but many had been saved by her healing gift, including Keneith, who still had many scars on his body from previous fights with other magic users.

  She was almost thirty-five, but looked some ten years younger and she hadn't found a man to settle with. She'd been in the Genn villages scattered through the forest of Appleyard, visiting her father's relatives, when she'd met Keneith some ten years earlier. They had started working together, the healer and the magic user, and maybe there was something between them.

 
Well, there had been something when they'd first met, but whatever passion had brought them together, it was now gone, although they were still the best of friends and perfect working partners. The inclusion of Belfi hadn't upset their relationship in the least. It was an honor to be with such a legendary being who could be both healer and magic user but was condemned to loneliness by his long, probably eternal life.

  Bellinda had envied him at first, but when she'd realized what it entailed – being the son of a dark goddess, a minion of a Dark Pond that might have been Human once, with a twin who was pure evil locked underground – she was content with being half-blood and having inherited her Genn father's gift for healing. Belfi was also her ancestor, but he still looked like a younger brother to her.

  She had often wondered if it was the fact that her father had loved both men and women in his life or that her dark-haired mother had somehow managed to seduce a Genn, but her father had taken only one wife. She certainly didn't want to become one of many wives herself as was tradition in the Varian Kingdom, and hoped to find a place where polygamy was not allowed. Or at least find a man who wouldn't want more than one woman.

  Keneith seemed to be of the monogamous kind, but he was also of the "I don't want to get married" kind, which had been fine with her. Unlike her childhood friends, she'd rather not marry than agree to spend her life with the first man who requested her and made her as many children as he could.

  She hadn't had any maternity call either. The only call was to heal people, wherever and whoever they were. Therefore she'd had enough of watching Varian soldiers fight for their king, and often die since she couldn't be everywhere at once.

  The Varian king had started campaigns to expand his lands, nibbling at the Gallians' borders and now expanding north. He'd been temporarily stopped by the savage barbarian tribes, so he'd marched on Moriana and bit off a piece of the Salamar Kingdom on this side of the Ondan, like he'd done to the Gallians in the west.

  Bellinda didn't understand his hunger for conquest and had left her hometown, unsure if and when she'd return. After losing a couple of friends and almost her own brother to the warmongering king, she decided she couldn't take it anymore – not another summer of battles, worrying for her loved ones.

  The hazelnut thicket was really perfect to make camp. Even if sunset was still a few hours away, they had time to set up the tent and maybe go fishing in the river. And they might bathe too – if she found a pond away from the two men. Although the water might be too cold, therefore she better wait until they reached the city of Salamar.

  She dismounted with a sigh of relief. Wearing breeches wasn't a problem, but spending hours and days in the saddle was bothersome after some time. Even if she used her gown to cushion herself, rolling it up around her waist. Keneith also had a long tunic, but it was split at the front, which made riding astride easier.

  As Belfi and Keneith set up the tent – probably with the help of magic, but she'd rather not watch – she took care of her mare, and the other two horses. Keneith had a black gelding with two white socks and a stocking. Her mare had a black mane and tail and black legs. And Belfi had a Pinto mare, for which warriors of the king's court had teased him, but he didn't care. The mare loved him and he took good care of her.

  She was still grooming Keneith's horse when they joined her. Belfi took care of his own mare as Keneith took the brushes from her. She brought her saddle and travel bags to the tent and started preparing the space for a fire, setting up rocks in a circle and cleaning it.

  "Who's going fishing?" she called.

  "Not me," Keneith replied. "I'm a fire person, not going near water if I can avoid it!"

  Belfi chuckled. "Then you could shoot down a bird or two – or starve!" he teased.

  "We still have provisions," Bellinda replied. "I thought it would be good to have fresh food, though."

  "If I see a pheasant, I'll make sure to burn it for you," Keneith said. "I'm gathering wood. Belfi can go fishing."

  "I will. Just light the fire, and I'll bring fresh fish for dinner..."

  Bellinda smiled. She knew Keneith only needed to snap his fingers to light a fire.

  ***

  Hinrik's eyes widened in shock. This couldn't be. He was already dead and the underworld was underwater.

  The man's hand on his chest calmed his heartbeat. He looked sorrowful now.

  "You are my son, Hinrik. And you are badly hurt. But the kingmaker is coming this way and he is with an excellent healer, she will help you."

  Hinrik closed his mouth and gulped. He still couldn't believe all this was happening underwater. His mother had told him his father was a magical being, but he wasn't expecting this! She'd been blamed all of her life for having a son outside of marriage and now, twenty-five years later, this... stranger walked, no swam up to him and told him he was his father!

  "You are half-Waiora, Hinrik, that's why water heals you. But what you've been through needs more healing power, and only the Genn can give you that. Go back to the surface, the kingmaker is making camp on the river shore with his friends, you will find him easily and they will help you."

  "I don't want anybody's help!" Hinrik's scream was lost underwater. He didn't want anybody to see him right now. He was naked, bruised and hurt. He wasn't going to go back to the surface and meet people.

  His father hugged him and gently rocked him as he burst into sobs. His tears were lost in the water and he was too weak to free himself from the unwanted embrace.

  He was so tired, so sick of it all... he passed out again.

  ***

  The hazelnut shrubs covered the sight of the river now. Belfi sat somewhere on that side, but Keneith and Bellinda had gathered wood and were setting up the campfire. Keneith kept looking around, though, knowing that pheasants lived in grassland near water with small copses of trees.

  "Can you please start this fire," she said, sitting back and tying her hair in a loose braid, since it kept falling in front of her face. It was dark blond or light brown, like Belfi's, not golden like his father's and most of the Genn. She kept it long, but not as long as her Genn friends, in fact Belfi's hair was longer than hers.

  "Sure." Keneith shrugged and snapped his fingers over the dry wood and leaves, setting them on fire. "There you go, my lady."

  "One can never grow cold with you." She smiled fondly at him.

  When she'd seen him for the first time, dark-haired among the fair-headed Genn, he had really stood out. But even in Havenstock he looked different, and probably not just because he came from the east and was a half-blood.

  His hazel eyes could be both warm and icy, and his oval face had no trace of facial hair. He didn't have much body hair either, which had attracted her immediately, since she was used to a father with a long mane and no body hair.

  "Thank you." He sat back too and started looking around again. Both could hear pheasants calls, if only one of them would walk into the clearing where they had pitched the tent... "Coming from someone who calls herself Lady Ice, it's even more appreciated."

  She chuckled. "You've tried to set me on fire, and you were quite good at it, but I guess we weren't made for each other after all."

  "I guess not. You may have heard that Fajrulo don't fall in love. I'm half-Fajrulo, so it's not as if you broke my heart. I've often been told I don't have a heart."

  "I think you do, and it's a very big one. Oh, look, there's a pheasant!"

  Keneith swiftly pointed his finger and shot a ray of fire that hit the bird. He rose and picked up the dead pheasant that was badly burned where he'd hit it, but still needed to be plucked and properly cooked.

  She clapped her hands before taking the bird.

  "Belfi, we've got meat!" she called towards the river.

  "One moment!" Belfi replied from beyond the bushes.

  Bellinda busied herself with their prospective dinner under Keneith's eyes. Then she heard him gasp and looked towards the river.

  Belfi was carrying bride-like a passed ou
t young man completely naked and quite bruised, but obviously still alive, since his chest heaved and Bellinda could feel his heartbeat.

  "Was he half-drowned?" Keneith asked, taking the bird from her as she rose to check the wounded one.

  "No, a Waiora brought him to the shore. It's his son. He was hurt at the battle around Moriana." Belfi laid the young man on the ground near the fire. "I'll get a blanket, the temperature is going down fast."

  Bellinda forgot her hunger as she knelt next to the young man. She closed her eyes and felt his bruises with her gift, sending the golden powder through the skin. She found old wounds as well, and helped those to vanish.

  Her hands barely brushed the naked body, and as she went down towards the legs, she kept feeling something was wrong. Not in the body, but in the mind that seemed to be screaming in pain and horror for something that wasn't physical.

  She held her breath when she felt the sore spot. The warrior had been raped. Defeated and raped and left for dead. She poured all her healing power into him, then almost collapsed over him, exhausted.

  She felt Keneith's hands helping her to lie down.

  "The meat is ready, eat," he said gently, holding her so she could eat.

  "He shouldn't eat solid food," she managed to say.

  "We'll give him broth," Belfi replied. "Eat and rest. You'll both be fine."

  ***

  Hinrik felt the intrusion. It was a woman, and it was very gentle. It eased some of the pain and the shame that he felt, but it wasn't nearly enough. Then someone helped him to sit and managed to shove some warm broth inside him. That felt good. He was starving by now.

  Although, was it worth it? Was it worth living? Who was helping him? That stranger who lived underwater and had declared himself to be his father or the other – what had he called him? Kingmaker? Who?

  His eyelids were too heavy to open. He didn't care what would happen to his body anymore. He drank the broth and lay down again. He shivered in the night air – it must be night, or he'd feel the sun's rays on his skin – and someone covered him with a blanket.

  "We should carry them both inside the tent," someone said. "Just in case it rains tonight."