Paul Thompson - The Middle of Nowhere

Ezu sighed. “People of this land are so inhospitable! This hapless traveler needs your help!”

“Cut him free,” said Howland. Hume obeyed, despite Raika’s protests.

“We know nothing about him,” she said. “He could be the worst criminal in the world!”

“Oh, I’m not him ,” Ezu said, as Hume sawed through the ropes that bound his wrists.

“Who?” asked Hume, pausing.

“The Worst Criminal in the World. I met him once. Fascinating fellow-”

Once free, Ezu climbed out of the cart. His gait was very unsteady. “I’ve been standing for three whole days,” he explained with a disarming smile. “I didn’t dare move, lest I end up dangling.”

“What happened here?” asked Howland.

Ezu ignored the question and said, “Can we move to different ground? These unhappy folk wished to kill me, so you’ll understand that I find their company disagreeable.”

Howland, for once, deferred to the others. “What do you think?”

“Seems like a decent enough chap,” said Hume.

“He could be anybody!” Raika complained.

Amergin’s sling remained in his hand. “Let him come,” the elf said. Opinion delivered, he turned on his heel and walked away.

They hastily left the maple grove, though not before Carver made his rounds, “finding” odds and ends in the lynch mob’s pockets. He did not get much, but for once Caeta did not criticize his pilfering.

“I despise mobs,” she muttered to Malek.

Ezu limped along, surrounded by Nowhere’s hired warriors. Malek gave him water, which the stranger drank gratefully.

“I imagine you want some explanation,” he said, once his thirst was slaked.

“And damn quick,” Raika muttered.

“As I said, I am Ezu, a traveler. I’ve been in this country many days.”

Howland said, “Doing what?”

Again the easy smile. “As I said, traveling. It is my pleasure to visit distant lands and see places I’ve never been.”

“You just travel? How do you live?” asked Wilf.

“By my wits, mostly.” Seeing this did not satisfy his companions, he added, “When necessary, I apply myself to any odd task that needs doing. After I’m paid, I can continue my journey. It is my goal-my dream-to travel completely around the world.”

“You sure talk funny,” said Carver.

“Madman,” was Raika’s verdict.

“Why were those people trying to hang you?” asked Hume.

The charming stranger looked pained. “They blamed me for their misfortune. Some bandits came through the district shortly after I arrived. They carried off many of the locals. I believe they intended to force them to labor. Since I am a stranger in their country, they thought me in league with the bandits.”

The farmers stopped dead in their tracks. “It must be Rakell!” Malek raged. “Rounding up more captives!”

“Maybe he needs more slaves to replace the ones who’ve died,” blurted Wilf. He regretted saying this when saw the anguish on his friend’s face.

“You know the situation then?” said Ezu casually. “Good. The folks back there decided I was some kind of magical spy, divining where their villages and secreted food supplies were and betraying them to the bandits. The mob seized me, declared me guilty, and marched me down the road to hang me.

“Bandit scouts often use this road,” Ezu added. “The peasants meant to leave my body where the bandits would find it.” In spite of the grim topic, Ezu managed a grin. “My death was to be a warning to others.”

“Folks here seem made of sterner stuff than you,” Raika mused to Malek.

“They are many, we are few,” the farmer replied defensively.

“All this is fascinating,” Howland said, “but what happened to the lynch mob? How did they end up so stricken?”

Ezu cupped a hand to the back of his head, looking embarrassed. “My doing, I fear.”

“Magic!” declared Carver.

“Not at all. I used Piroquey’s Powder on them.”

“What powder?”

“Piroquey’s Powder,” Ezu explained. “It is a rare substance I picked up in my wanderings. Sprayed in the air and inhaled, it causes a waking paralysis.”

“Why did you use it?” asked Howland.

The genial stranger said, “I thought once I’d stopped the hanging, I could wriggle out of my bonds, but they tied me too well. When you came along, I was wondering if I would get loose before the mob woke up.”

Malek grunted. “I wish you hadn’t used all the powder. A substance like that would have been invaluable against Rakell.”

Carver had ideas of his own about Piroquey’s Powder. “How long will they be asleep?”

“They could awake at any time.”

All the more reason to leave as soon as possible. Howland gathered everyone together and signaled Amergin they were going. The elf set off due east again, skirting the grove of silent vigilantes.

“Begging your pardon,” Ezu said, trotting after Caeta and Khorr. “This one would like to know if he might accompany you? At least to safer surroundings?”

“It’s not at all safe where we’re going,” Caeta replied, “but you’re welcome to join us for as long as you like.”

“Splendid!” Ezu bowed again. He ran back to the grove and returned, bearing an ornate satchel. It was made of strips of shiny black wood, jointed with twine. A woven handle on top allowed him to carry it.

“All my worldly goods,” he said, patting the box. “Couldn’t leave that behind!”

The march continued long after sundown. Time was short, and the farmers pressed Howland to hurry. The old Knight kept the party going until darkness was well upon them then called a halt. They had reached the edge of the high plain. The dull, steamy sky at last dissolved into the deep azure of dusk. Hills were fewer and lower, and trees stood out like isolated sentinels against the darkening sky.

“Cold camp, remember,” Howland said. “No fire.”

Carver shinnied up a chestnut tree for a look around. He slid back down and reported he could see a single campfire in the near distance, glowing against the velvet sky.

“How far?” asked Howland.

“Two miles, maybe.”

“I tire of being chased,” Raika said.

“So do I,” said Hume.

“Want to do something about it?” asked Howland.

The Saifhumi woman nodded.

“Take Amergin with you, and see if you can’t discourage them from following us. Hume and I will stay here. We need to guard our own camp. Just because a fire is burning nearby, that doesn’t mean the fire-builder is beside it.

“It’s an old wilderness trick,” added the Knight. “A fire draws trouble, like moths. While we send a force out to deal with our pursuer, they may choose the same time to attack. We must be vigilant.”

They camped in a shallow ravine lined with windblown leaves. Worn out by the journey, Wilf, Nils, and Caeta were soon asleep. Malek, brooding, could not succumb to slumber. All sorts of awful images crowded his thoughts: his friends and neighbors slaving in a black pit under the whips of cruel overseers. Weak ones, too feeble to work, being given to the ogres … Laila, sleek as a yearling doe, at the mercy of Rakell and his cronies-

The odd stranger, Ezu, loomed over him. “Greetings,” he said. “May this one join you?”

Malek grunted, shifting to one side. Ezu dropped beside him. He opened his satchel and took out a sheaf of waxed paper. Unrolled, Malek saw it held strips of dried fish of some kind. Ezu offered some to him.

He was tempted. Malek had eaten nothing but barley cake and water for days, and now that was running out. He and his comrades had privately agreed all the food would go to the warriors. His belly was like the sky overhead-black and empty.