Return to TunTavern's Treasure of Creative Fiction

Return to TunTavern's Main Page

It was close to nightfall by the time the woman reached the entrance to the city. Soon the massive gates would close for the night, letting no one in or out. Traffic was lighter than usual and this troubled the woman in a way she could not describe.

She stopped a few paces from the city gates to study the scene before her. The evening breeze swept through, scattering the autumn leaves and leaving a slight chill in its wake. She stood downwind of the city and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the strong smell of poverty. The guards looked at each other uneasily and some argued among themselves. Their dogs yelped at their feet and snapped at any travelers that got close enough to their dirty muzzles.

Gathering her cloak tight around her, she hesitantly walks through the city gates. Her need for what lay within outweighed her caution.

Walking down the streets of the city, she picks her way through the thongs of lurkers and free-men. She watches as an armed patrol marches by and retreats further into her cloak.

Finally, she sees what she is looking for and ducks into a saloon called the White Dove. She is no sooner settled into a booth when a servant is standing before her. "What can I get you?"

She looks up, her face hidden by the shadows of her hood. The servant appears to be a young boy, no more than 13 years old with short sandy-blonde hair and hazel eyes. "Just a tankard of ale," she answers. The servant walks off.

She sits in the booth, taking in her surroundings. What she sees is the typical scene in a saloon during the evening. Drunken soldiers making passes at anything in a skirt and free-men washing away their sorrows with drink. She smiles satisfied. What she is looking for has not arrived yet.

Making herself comfortable, she pulls back the hood of her cloak. A soft face framed by curly locks of black hair emerges and she smiles as several eyes turn her way. "2000 years and I've still got the touch." She laughs to herself

The servant returns with her ale and she hands him a copper piece. Placing her tired feet on the chair beside her, she takes a swig of the ale. With her other hand she moves her cloak to reveal her sword strapped to her side. "Just in case," she tells herself. The only thing for her to do now is wait.

Her thoughts begin to wander and she thinks back to why she is sitting in a bar, many miles from the comfort of her home. Khalin, for that's her name, hadn't left the sanctuary of her home in hundreds of year, her only companion being a moorcat she named Mist. She found Mist when he was only a kitten. Moorcats are very rarely seen and are known for their cunning. A full grown moorcat is a vicious predator with many skills. One of which is the ability to blend in with the scenery around them...to basically disappear. Khalin frowns as she remembers that she told her faithful companion to stay behind. She isn't fond of the idea of traveling without him, but she felt that it best for him to stay.

Her thoughts jump to a night not more than three weeks ago, when the quiet of her home was broken by an intruder. Being unaccustomed to visitors, Khalin was caught unawares and the intruder stabbed her. He left her for dead, and had she been mortal, she would have been. She learned a long time ago that mundane ways could not kill her. Her only wish being that it wouldn't hurt so much every time she was reminded. Shortly after his departure, she awoke to the meows of Mist. Following Mist into their home, Khalin looked around and instantly saw the problem. Among the items he had stolen was a very important book.

A person enters the saloon, bringing Khalin back from her thoughts and she smiles when she sees who it is. She then frowns. He doesn't have her book with him. What did he do with it?

"Okay girl, calm down. This just means a change of plans," she tells herself.

After some quick thinking, she decides to wait until he has gotten himself stinkin' drunk. Chances are he won't recognize her then. She has the servant bring her another ale and she sits back to wait some more.

Just then the armed patrol that she saw earlier barges into the saloon. A deathly silence fills the room as everyone wonders why the patrol has appeared when nothing has happened. Khalin tenses a little, also curious why the patrol has shown.

The patrol consisted of five men, all wearing the standard red and black uniform with a hawk emblem on their right breast. A man dressed in black pushes his way through the men, making the group now total six men. Khalin watches as he begins talking to one of the patrolmen. She notices that he wears his hair cut short and his nose appears a little too big for his face. His black eyes twinkle of an intense hatred, for what Khalin doesn't know. Every so often he looks around the saloon. Suddenly his eyes flicker to Khalin's table, he is aware of her stares. He looks at her briefly and then smiles. For some reason his smile makes Khalin sick to her stomach. He motions for the patrol to follow him and they make their way to her table.

Seeing that the patrol has found what they are looking for, and relieved that it wasn't one of them, the noise returns. The cautious looks in Khalin's direction the only indication that the patrons are aware of the patrols' presence.

Khalin tries, and fails, to think of any reason why the patrol, or this mysterious man would take an interest in her. Unfortunately she will soon find out, she tells herself.

The men stand in front of her table, the man in black at the head of the group. Silently they stare at each other. It is the dark man who breaks the silence.

"Hi Khalin, it has been a long time."

Shocked, Khalin asks him, "Who are you and how do you know my name?"

He laughs, "Oh, I'm no one special really. Just someone who has wanted to kill you," he pauses, a smile forming on his chapped lips, "For over three hundred years."

"What are you talking about," she demands.

He laughs again and Khalin realizes that she doesn't like his laugh. "You didn't think you were the only immortal, now did you?" He fixes his cold black eyes on her.

"Of course not, but what does that have to do with you? I've never seen you before."

"I thought it would be like this. Too cruel to remember someone you've killed."

Khalin has had enough. "Now look here Mr. Whoeveryouare, I don't know what you're talking about or who you are. So I would appreciate it if you would just back off and leave me alone."

At the rise in Khalin's voice several patrons openly focus their attention on her and the dark man.

He glares at her. "300 years ago you killed me and my raiding party outside the Tyris pass. You and a big black cat came out of nowhere. You killed me, I felt the life leave my body. The next thing I knew I was laying in the road with my men dead around me. It was then that I vowed to find you, and kill you."

"Now I remember you. I killed you because you deserved to die. You killed too many innocent people that day."

Khalin pushes back her chair, jumps to her feet, and pulls her broadsword free in the one quick motion. "I see I'm going to have to kill you again."

"Oh no, not this time. I'm ready for you." He too pulls free his broadsword.

He attacks savagely, his face calm and giving away none of his moves. Khalin blocks, trying to hide her dismay. It has been far too long since she has actually fought another living person. Thankful for the long hours spent exercising to keep her muscles toned. Being immortal doesn't mean you can slack off.

Fighting with her brain, she carefully maintains her defense, looking for his slightest mistake because of his need. They circle each other. Every time he thrusts, she blocks. He aims inward, high, low. Where ever his sword thrusts, her sword is immediately there to block. He hesitates. Khalin moves her blade into a reversed crescent. He blocks clumsily, almost too late. She swings into a crescent, keeping her attack coming. It is always better to attack then defend, she wants this over and done with. She steps back to avoid his counter cut. Khalin takes a deep breath, repositions her feet and hardens her attack.

A breath too late he sees the complex move Khalin has started. His sword flies out of his hand and she presses the point of her sword to his throat. Grimacing, she says in a voice devoid of any feeling, "Its over." Gripping the hilt of her sword with both hands, Khalin swiftly removes his head from his body.

A strong gust of wind throws Khalin to her knees and tosses tables and chairs into disarray around her. She screams as the air around her closes in. She starts to find it hard to breathe. "So this is what happens when you kill another immortal," she thinks to herself, "Sure wish someone would have warned me first."

Just when she thinks her lungs will burst from the lack of air, the winds recede and she finds she can breathe again.

A large rough hand grabs her arm and pulls her to her feet. "You're coming with us."

"That's what you think," she retorts as she pulls her arm away. She pushes him into the men behind him knocking them down. She makes a dash for the exit. Helping her to escape, a few of the patrons trip the patrolmen as they try to follow her.

Khalin runs down the dimly lit streets. A scream rings out breaking the silence. Khalin skids to a halt and looks around, trying to determine its origin. Precious seconds go by before she decides it is safe to venture forward again.

Khalin resumes her escape down the dark city streets and turns down an alley. With a yelp of surprise, she trips and falls with a soft thud. Jumping quickly to her feet, Khalin brushes the hair from her face. She looks down to see what she has tripped over. What she finds is four unconscious men sprawled before her. Khalin sees that they are wearing the uniform of the patrol she is running from. With a shiver of apprehension, she wonders if they somehow knew she would be coming this way. She steps passed the bodies and runs down the alley, to come face to face with a dead end. She turns around to retract her steps only to find her escape route blocked by the patrolmen.

"Well this certainly hasn't been a good night for me," she grumbles.

Khalin takes a fighting stance and prepares to stand her ground. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a piece of the shadows brake away and watches as a big black cat launches itself at one of her attackers. The others, seeing Khalin's savior to be a moorcat, turn tail and run.

"Mist!" Khalin yells, instantly glad to see her beloved pet. She scolds Mist, "You silly boy, I told you to stay home." She then smiles, happy he chose not to listen.

Mist playfully bats around his toy. He then pins him beneath one of his huge paws and growls. When Mist finally lifts his massive paw, the man stumbles to his feet and runs.

Khalin runs to Mist and nestles her face into the fur around his neck. Mist begins to purr, happy to see Khalin as well.

Khalin stands, "Now we need to go and retrieve my book and be on our way home."

Mist and Khalin walk back to the White Dove, but instead of going back inside, they hide in the shadows and wait. Their wait is cut short when the thief walks out and stumbles off into the night. He turns down an adjourning street unaware that he is being followed.

He make his way to an abandoned building and lets himself in. His shadows follow. Once inside, Khalin grabs him by his collar and turns him to face her. A look of recognition crosses the man's face and he begins to whimper.

"Oh shut up!" She hisses.

"Bu..Bu..Bu..But, I killed you." He stammers.

"A minor inconsistency," She glares at him, "Now I'm only going to ask you this once. Where is the book you stole from me?"

"Book, what book?" he whined.

"A book bound in brown leather with black writing along the cover. The book you stole from me." Khalin pulls her hunting knife from her belt and presses it against his throat. "Shall I exercise your memory?" she taunts.

"Oh that book. Why didn't you say so. Its over there." Khalin releases him and follows. He goes to a pile of books and mumbles as he sorts through them. He lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls forth a book bound in brown leather. Never having learned to read he has no idea what he holds in his hands. He only hopes its the book she is looking for.

Khalin snatches the book and begins thumbing through it. She stops on a particular page and smiles. Closing the book and pressing her knife to his throat, she says in a deadly voice, "Be careful who you steal from and make sure your victim is dead next time. They may not be as nice as I have been."

And with that, she turns and leaves with Mist following.

It took two days for Mist and Khalin to make it home. When the lights of their home could be seen in the distance, they quickened their pace.

As they walk trough the gate, Khalin turns to Mist and smiles, "Its great to be home, isn't it fella?" Mist meows in reply. Khalin laughs, "Okay boy, time to cook dinner."

Khalin opens the book she has just retrieved and thumbs to the page she needs. "How does beef stew sound to you?"