- Chapter 4 -

Previously...

It did not take Strides-Tall long to get ready. She always had a bag packed with her essential equipment - lightweight rope, tools, lockpicks - and she usually had little need to collect much in the way of clothes, for part of the thrill of her adventures was derived from her wearing nothing but a carefully-chosen pair of thigh-length boots. As she was not going to be working on her own this time, she had to pick out something to wear as well, and that more than doubled her preparation time.

The adventuress was also not alone when it was time to leave. Ashyra came along to see her off, even though being around star-sail ships always dredged up painful memories. The brown-haired girl, a vivacious and warm-hearted representative of the Shaelin people - a race physically very much like Strides-Tall's - had lost a dearly-loved brother when his ship fell foul of one of the many and varied unpredictable quirks of space.

"You don't have to be here", Strides-Tall told her, not needing the kind of emotion-sensing abilities Raven possessed, a step down from true telepathy, to tell that her friend was uncomfortable with their surroundings.

Ashyra looked up at the vast sails of the Brilliant Future, and took a deep breath. When the girl exhaled, Strides-Tall felt certain she heard a sigh. "I live in a port - it's not as though I can avoid star-ships forever", said the Shaelin dancer. "No...I'm fine. Worry about yourself instead. And make sure you come back."

"I fully intend to", Strides-Tall replied. "If this job pays as well as they promised, I might finally be able to get a place of my own."

"You know you're welcome to stay with me and Raven as long as you like", Ashyra told her. "Hang around - maybe we can organise a trip to Korlassan. Chal'Shi's family said they'd have room for us, and I'm sure we can still call upon the generosity of the Sapphire Cluster Trading Alliance."

I keep forgetting that I'm not the only dancer at The Phantasia who's had a few adventures, thought the elf, remembering the story of how Raven, Ashyra, Skylla and the Korlassan dancer Chal'Shi had entertained royalty, whilst also serving as the bait in a trap set for one of The Realm's most infamous pirates. The club now enjoyed the honour of a seal of approval from the Royal Court of the Sapphire Cluster as a result.

"And watch out for Shr'Ganti!", Ashyra called out as Strides-Tall reached the top of the gangplank, and handed her bag to one of the cabin-crew. "If there're Murgands looking for a fight, there's usually Shr'Ganti on the receiving end!"

"I certainly hope so", said the elf hatefully. She had faced Shr'Ganti before, in the form of a single male representative of the man-eating giant race employed by a slave-trader at the trading colony of Kattan'Gyar. Escaping from being sold into slavery, shortly after her arrival in The Realm, Strides-Tall found herself pursued by the giant, which apparently killed a kindly family that had offered her shelter - another member of that family, the captain of the ship that brought her to Freeport, managed to slay the man-monster, but the adventuress still carried with her a deep-seated hatred for the Shr'Ganti.

Thoughts of revenge left Strides-Tall as she met up with a friend of almost as long standing as Ashyra and Raven. Bjalser, a tall slender young Shaelin man, was a telepath employed by the Reclamationists, and had helped Strides-Tall out of a few tight spots, receiving the adventuress's "sent" thoughts and relaying them to whoever was overseeing the operation, or someone with specialist knowledge about whatever obstacle the elf had encountered.

"It's good to see you again", said Bjalser, hugging the adventuress. "I knew Bresquet would want to bring you along."

"Wouldn't miss it for anything", she replied. "Oh, and take a look shoreside - the friend I told you about came to see me away..."

The reddish-haired youth, recalling that Strides-Tall had mentioned an attractive Shaelin friend, glanced over the side of the ship. "Hey - that's Ashyra, isn't it? Ashyra from The Phantasia?"

"Errr - yes", murmured a surprised Strides-Tall. "You know her already?"

Bjalser waved to the girl on the harbour walkway, then looked back at the elf. "No-one visits Freeport without going to The Phantasia at least once", he said with a cheeky smile.

Strides-Tall was hardly surprised to see that Ashyra did not stay to watch the ship retract its magnetic mooring cables and turn its fan-like power-collecting sails into the currents of cosmic energy flowing between worlds. It had probably taken all the dancing girl's courage to come this far, and the elf was glad for Ashyra's support - Strides-Tall had been very much the loner back in her own reality, and now she had made some very dear friends, she could not imagine living without them.

I might not get a place of my own just yet, she thought. But first, let's concentrate on earning the money. It doesn't hurt to have options.

Strides-Tall and Bjalser headed below decks, clearing the way for the star-vessel's crew. "Of course", the telepath said, almost as an afterthought, as they went to their cabins, "having seen Ashyra at The Phantasia doesn't mean you can't introduce me to her..."

"First things first", advised the adventuress. "Work, then play..."

Ashyra allowed herself one backward glance at the Reclamationist star-sailer as she headed back into town. The ship was bigger than the accepted norm, with unusual fan-shaped power-sails - three of them - equally spaced around the long, tapering stern of the craft. One mast stood vertically, displaying the seal on the Reclamationists - two hands cupping a golden cog...

The dancer was so caught up in comparing the ship to the ideal vessel her brother had described on a number of occasions that she almost walked into a tall, gaunt man in dark, heavily-worn and battle-scarred leathers. She apologised at once, but the man - a warrior if the two-handed sword slung across his back was anything to go by - seemed not to care.

He spoke only a few words in response. "Where is that ship going?", he asked, and Ashyra shuddered at the sound of his voice. There was no emotion in his voice, and the words were spoken in a husky tone that suggested that the man's vocal chords had seen little use for a long time.

"I...hey, I didn't think to ask", the girl replied. "Some old Murgand colony, I think."

"Jaglundar's Rock", the warrior said flatly.

Ashyra recognised the name from a conversation between Raven and Strides-Tall she half-heard whilst in the kitchen looking for wine glasses. "Yeah! That's the place! Never heard of it myself."

The swordsman drew a deep breath. "Too late", he sighed, turning away. "Too late..."

Ashyra's first instinct was to call out to her elven friend with her mind, having telepathic powers like the adventuress, but the ship was out of sight already, and Strides-Tall was out of range.

Once the Brilliant Future was well under way, the cosmic currents carrying the ship up to, then beyond the speed of light, Strides-Tall went to consult the Murgand sage, Tollen. She knew a mission briefing was set for later in the day, with all relevant personnel attending, but she always liked to get her information for herself, asking the questions she felt needed to be asked.

The Murgands had pretty much sealed off an entire deck for their own use, deep in the bowels of the vessel, and the elf's arrival was greeted with sullen stares from guards who would not let her pass. Strides-Tall was not going to let this stand in her way, and she resorted to what she felt was a necessary deception.

"I'm a friend of Broxka Brightstone", she announced. "She said I could come and see her..."

The Murgand soldiers glanced at each other, the furrowing of their brows concealed under their slightly pointed helmets. Other than this, they showed no sign of acting on this new information until another warrior came wandering along the passage behind them. One of the guards stopped him, whispered something to him, then sent him on his way.

A couple of minutes later, the warrior returned with Broxka. "Little One!", roared the Murgand woman cheerfully. "Come, come...! Don't let these foetid vadhi carcasses hold you up!"

"Hey!", barked one of the guards. "Who're you callin' a vadhi carcass? It's you who should be here guardin', clan-sister, not me!"

Broxka rapped her knuckled against the top of the guard's helmet. "I'll take the next shift, Ojart, never fear", she growled. "Now get out of the way - Little One here has an appointment to keep!"

"She could have said...", grumbled Ojart, stepping aside.

"By Joegeth's Hammer, you're a gutsy one", Broxka said once they were out of earshot of the guards. "Using my name to get in here!"

"You still let me in", the elf reminded her.

"That's 'cause Tollen knew you were coming", the warrior-woman replied. "Now pick up your feet - getting past light-speed always tires the old fella out."

They found the venerable Murgand sitting on the floor, in a quiet corner, tossing coins from a bag into a circle of stones laid out before him. Broxka held Strides-Tall back, apparently not wanting to interrupt what looked to be an important ritual, but Tollen saw the elven adventuress, and beckoned her over.

"The stone circle represents all that makes up the world of the Murgands", said the old man. "Life, death, clan, family, war, peace, the earth, the metal - everything. When faced with momentous events, a mind properly focussed can read patterns in the coins when they are thrown into the circle."

"And what do you see?", asked the elf, kneeling next to the Murgand wiseman.

"Shadows of what is to come - shadows cast far ahead by the unfaltering light of destiny."

"Forgive me for being blunt, but I don't like the sound of that very much", admitted the adventuress.

"It is hardly a blessing to know what the future has arranged for you", responded Tollen. "I do not need the stones-and-coins to know my fate - I feel it. One way or another, I'll have worked the last ore from my seam of life's mother-lode when this war-trail comes to an end."

"I refuse to accept that the future is fixed", Strides-Tall declared. "I've tempted fate more times than I care to remember, yet here I am…"

"Maybe Destiny has something special in mind for you", said the sage, looking down at the coins in the circle. One coin had bounced outside the ring of rocks, and Tollen pointed it out to the elf. "See? That is you. I can see no other meaning - a coin never leaves the circle, unless it represents something from outside the Murgand world."

"A fair description of me, I guess", said Strides-Tall. "I'm not even from this…Realm."

The Murgand wiseman nodded, as though a great revelation had dawned upon him. "Aaaah…", he murmured, eyes closing for but a moment. "Of course…"

The old man started to pick up the coins, taking each one he came to as he went around the circle, working in towards the centre. "I will have to give what I have seen here more thought", he said. "The matter is plainly more complex than I had first imagined."

And I'll probably be one of the last to hear what you've discovered, thought the elf. "If you can't tell me what the circle revealed to you, then at least share your knowledge of Jaglundar's Rock with me", she implored. "They say you're one of the few survivors left alive…"

Tollen dropped the last coin into the bag with an air of finality. "One of the last of the survivors, and the last Murgand alive who took part in the foundation of the colony at Jaglundar's Rock", he said proudly. "I was but a child when we first claimed the Rock, and a young man when we cut the last few feet of the central gallery - Stonecleaver's Walk, we called it. I was Junior Foreman when we found the Cave of Jewelled Stars…"

The ancient sage looked to be on the verge of slipping into a bout of reminiscence nothing would rouse him from, but he stopped suddenly. "I have only lived this long so that I can see the Rock reclaimed by the people who tamed it, and sing in praise of the Fallen Heroes with my last breath", he said solemnly, leaning forward to start gathering up the rocks that formed the circle. "If the present generation can take back the Rock, then it will be in safe hands for many, many years to come."

"Who was it that drove your people away?", the elf asked quickly, hoping to engage the old Murgand's attention and prevent him from becoming lost in the past again. "Was it the Shr'Ganti?"

Tollen laughed - or at least tried to. "If it had been Shr'Ganti, we would have stood our ground, and fought to the death!", he wheezed, his ancient lungs unable to cope with laughter. "No, no…this was something else. I never saw them. Few ever did, and they are all gone now. Suffice to say they were an enemy we simply could not stand against. The Lord of The Rock decided we should flee, rather than perish, and not one voice was raised to call him 'coward'."

Something made Strides-Tall look round, and the sight of Broxka made her shudder. The brash, boisterous warrior-woman had gone deathly pale, her greyish skin now almost chalk-white, and beads of fear-spawned sweat were streaming down her face. Tollen and the adventuress left her standing there, stunned by the idea that there was an enemy her people felt unable to conquer, as they went to discuss Jaglundar's Rock, and all its little secrets.

 

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