Part 27
Nature of Grota
“It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” the Trapper asked offering his hand to the old man.
“You made it just in time to save us,” the old man said grasping the Trapper’s for arm, “I am afraid we shall have to ask you another favor.”
“I need lodging for myself and my clients for a few days,” the Trapper began. “One of my clients has a server injury I would rather not have to travel with. Then we can talk about this favor of yours Elder.”
“It will be provided,” the Elder said. “But our village is in great danger.”
“How so?” the Trapper asked as the Elder began to guide them.
“Many nights, a dark shade invades out village,” The Elder began. “As of yet it has only damaged out houses and carried off our cattle but there is no telling when it will attack one of us, or worse, our children.”
“Interesting,” The Trapper said.
“Is it a Beast Shade?” the girl asked from the Vassal’s arms.
“Most likely,” the Trapper said. Then looking over his shoulder continued, “You are more knowledgeable then I expected.”
“We fought and defeated one not long ago,” the Vassal explained.
“Well, ya’re sure full of surprises,” the Trapper said, and turning back to the Elder continued. “So does that mean I have permission to call Grota within the village?”
The Elder sighed and shook his head mournfully. “It seems we have no choice,” the man said.
“We can help too,” the girl said.
“No,” the Trapper said, bluntly.
“But we already defeated one,” the girl said.
“Where? Selia? Shade Beasts grow stronger the longer they are active,” the Trapper said. “This will not be some sprout recently formed. No, this will be a seasoned creature far stronger then what you faced. Your inexperience would only get in the way.”
“Hey!” the girl began, before being cut off by the Vassal.
“Do not worry about him,” the Vassal said. “He can handle himself.”
“I know that, Sworder,” the girl said sulking.
“Well,” the Elder began opening a small fence gate, leading to a small stone path winding to a dark pine door of a solid wooden cabin built in similar fashion as most of the other building in the village. “You’ll be stayin’ here for the time. It’s not much but it’s home,” Opening the front door he paused and looked back over the group. “The Kazan stays out.” The Elder said coldly.
“His name is Sworder!” the girl said attempting to sit up.
The Trapper put his hand to his head with a sigh. “Look, he’s not from Calta, and I doubt he would be willing to leave her side. So will you be willing to accept a guarantee that I will not let him do anything?”
With one hand on the door and the other on the frame the Elder stood there watching them silently. The girl sat in the Vassal of Fire’s arms glaring back at him.
“I think I understand your hesitation,” Uncle Ben said. “But Sworder has many times proven himself in protecting his charge, my niece. So will you please reconsider?”
The Elder glanced back and forth between the Uncle Ben and the Vassal. Finally, he relented, “So long as he makes no trouble.”
“Sworder, you should have said something to defend yourself,” the girl chided him as he crossed the threshold.
“It would not have helped,” he said.
The inside of the cabin was small and cramped. From the door one could see the majority of the first floor and a small staircase up. A stove was set against the wall and a small fire was lit to stave off the evening chill. A young lady only a few years older then the girl stood by a large table that was able to comfortable sit four or five. She had been sweeping the floor but now stood silently watching the newcomers enter.
“This is my granddaughter,” the Elder said gesturing to the young lady. “My grandson should be somewhere around.”
“What’s this?” the Granddaughter asked, as she saw the Vassal enter carrying the girl covered with his cloak.
“She messed up her leg,” the Trapper said, entering after.
“Oh, no!” the Granddaughter said. “Over this way,” she quickly spread out two small goat furs onto of each other, “It’ll not be much but you’ll find it quite comfortable.”
The Vassal reached for his cloak but the girl’s hands tightened around it. “Could I keep it a little longer,” she asked shyly.
“As you wish,” the Vassal said.
“You must be tired carrying her for long,” the Granddaughter said, smiling sweetly at the Vassal.
“It was not a bother,’ the Vassal said.
“You’ll all must be hungry, I’ll fix ya something.”
“Do not worry about me, I am fine.”
“Come now, you must be hungry. You’ve probably been walking all day.”
“Don’t bother,” the Trapper said, hanging up his cloak. “That one there is a Kazan.”
The Granddaughter took a step back and glanced at the Elder, who simply nodded. Backing away the Granddaughter turned before the girl caught her.
“Why does that change anything?” the girl said. “Why do you not trust Kazans?”
The Granddaughter’s mouth opened but she said nothing. She simply held the gaze of the girl, as she sat mute.
“Because here in Calta, that’s the only way to survive,” A young man’s voice rang from the staircase. Walking down the steps a tall stocky man strode across the room. “Trust is earned, and here it is never given freely.”
“Enough,” the Elder said. “Have I not invited them into my home?” Then, turning to the girl, he continued, “Forgive them, a rogue Kazan took their mother away from them.” It’s not something any of us can easily forget.”
The young man put his arm around the Granddaughter’s shoulder as she glumly hung her head. “Here in Calta there are few Kazans we can trust. And even those, we have to view with suspicion,” he said.
“Speaking of which, where’s your Marshal?” the Trapper asked.
“You know he was getting old,” the Elder said, “he can no longer muster the will to bring forth his pixie.”
“Have you not sent a replacement on a journey?”
“We have, but he has yet to return.”
“And how long before you send the next candidate?”
“I don’t want to be too hasty,” the Elder said with a cautious glance at his granddaughter.
“So he did go,” the Trapper said, catching the glance. “Despite my warning.”
“Do…” the Granddaughter stumbled over her words. “Do you think he will come back?”
“He has a good head on his shoulders,” the Trapper said. “If he survived his first encounter with a Kazan he is likely to.”
“Oh,” the Granddaughter sighed, crestfallen.
“Hey, sis,” the young man said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Yes, of course,” the Granddaughter said smiling at her brother.
“She is quite skilled at faking a smile,” Ranin said,
“A skill one wonders where she learned,” Namic said. “But we should not linger on such things.”
“What’s this?” the girl asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You wouldn’t know would ya?” the Trapper said. “Marshals are the designated guardians of cities, villages, and hamlets. Though in many cities such a position is appointed, traditionally it was earned by a young man taking on a journey to acquire a pixie.”
“Why a pixie?” the girl asked.
“Because it is one of the only type of Kazan’s that can be trusted,” the Trapper said. “Though even that depends on the Master.”
The Granddaughter put a bowl of soup in the girl’s hands. “This should warm you up,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll have some bread if ya can spare it,” the Trapper said. “I would not worry about the Shade Beast tonight. It smells new blood and that will make it cautious.”
The Granddaughter moved to give him what he had requested as he left the room, and her brother went out to grab more firewood. When he returned, the Vassal of Fire had set himself near the girl, his scabbard resting against the wall.
When the Granddaughter reentered the room the girl caught her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Don’t let it bother ya,” the Granddaughter said. Then giving the Vassal a weary look, continued, “You’ve lived in a different world then us.”
“So it has been thus in Calta since beyond the memories of society,” Namic said.
The Granddaughter smiled fondly at the girl patting her on the head before moving off to finish clearing. As she walked through, she took to humming a soft tune, which pleasant melodies flowed through the house.
As his sister worked, the brother gave the girl a larger blanket, which the girl quickly accepted and just as quickly was lost to sleep.
Morning came quickly, and with the help of Sworder the girl was able to stretch her legs.
“It seems the wound is healing well,” the Trapper said. “Looks like, it is not as severe as I had feared. In a few days we should be able to move on.”
The girl smiled, but then grimaced as she attempted to put more weight on the foot.
“Do not strain yourself,” Sworder said.
“You worry too much,” the girl said,
“That is enough for now,” Sworder said, guiding her back to her resting place.
“But my legs are still stiff,” she complained but she offered no resistance.
The Granddaughter sat across the room, intently watching the pair.
Tilting her head as she sat down, the girl caught the Granddaughter’s eye. “Thoughts?” she asked.
The Granddaughter’s face became flush, and she quickly stood and began occupying herself with other activities. They were alone in the room. Uncle Ben and the Elder had retreated into another room to converse such as elder men tend to, while the Trapper and the Brother where checking the area for clues on the Shade Beast.
Sworder sat beside the girl and there remained motionless. The girl stared into his back; her face set in deep concentration. Finally acting, she reached out and took hold of Sworder’s cloak. Silently, he glanced back at her.
“Sorry,” she said rubbing her fingers on the cloth. “I was wondering if it was made out of the same fabric as your other cloaks.”
“You wonder?” Ranin said.
“Rather unimportant,” Namic said.
“I disagree,” Ranin argued, growing more animated, “it represents her curiosity.”
“That has never been questioned,” Namic said.
“She’s constantly looking to understand more about him,” Ranin said. “As a Master she wants to know him better.”
“But is that the only cause motivating her?” Namic asked curiously.
“No,” Ranin said settling down. “I doubt it.”
Just then the door burst open and cold wind assaulted the occupants. The Trapper and his companion entered and quickly closed the entrance behind them.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Sworder asked.
Without response the brother brushed passed and removed his cloak. He then tossed the clock onto the rack.
“We think so,” the Trapper said as he removed his own cloak. “It seems that this creature has significant canine aspects, yet it is still described as moving on two legs. Unfortunately, few have seen it and those who have, only under the veil of night.”
“Are you sure you don’t want help?” the girl asked.
“I work better alone,” the Trapper said. “An amateur as yourself would only get in the way. Teamwork is not something made up on the spot, and if not done well, can be far more of a hindrance.”
“Well, be careful,” the girl said.
“We’re talkin’ about the rogue Kazan,” the Trapper said. “Something like that is not possible.”
“You should be hungry,” the brother said, changing the subject and turning to his sister, “We should prepare something.”
After they had eaten, the girl convinced Sworder to let her stretch her legs again. She was making continual progress but she was still unable to walk without help.
As evening drew near she hung nervously by the window overlooking the Trapper who was beginning his preparations which seemed to consist of little more then looking through his pack and selecting equipment.
The Trapper had donned a large studded shield, and thick bracers on each arm. He wore no extra armor on his body other then his usual hide shirt and he drew out no weapon.
“What will he fight with?” the girl asked.
“It seems he will rely on his Kazan for that,” Sworder said.
“His Kazan?” the girl asked.
“Indeed,” Sworder affirmed, “Grota by name.”
The Granddaughter shivered at the name, and the girl turning asked, “Why does it frighten you?”
“Watch. You may see,” the Elder said.
“Do you know what is coming?” Ranin said.
“Only through the veil of mysteries,” Namic replied. “I have not found what I am looking for.”
“Um,” Ranin said. “Something is coming.”
“You have felt its presence?” Namic asked. “Indeed it approaches.”
“He’s not ready!” Ranin said.
“Nor does he realize it is not alone, this time.” Namic said.
“Grota,” The Trapper called and from the shadows came the thin figure of Grota. He slowly stretched out his hand and spoke, “Do you have but a trinket to spare?”
The Trapper produced a match and struck it. With the match burning brightly, the Trapper held up a torch and attempted to light it. Just then a few of the torches surrounding the village snuffed out, and a strong breeze blew out the Trapper’s match. The Trapper threw the burnt stub to the ground and grabbed another. However before he could strike it, a large shape lurched into the dim torch light.
“It’s here,” the girl gasped.
The Granddaughter shrank behind her brother’s shoulder, as the creature immerged and a grim cloud fell upon the group as they watched. The creature bull rushed the Trapper covering the distance in only a few bounds. The Trapper abandoned the match he held in order to raise his shield.
The creature struck with both its clawed arms, but the Trapper caught them with his shield. He repulsed them, before backing away, keeping himself from striking distance of the creature’s claws.
“Why is Grota not helping him?” the girl said.
“Because he has not been paid,” Sworder said.
“What do you mean?” the girl said.
“He is correct,” the Elder said, “That creature we call Fear Grota or Man of Famine. He seeks alms and grants those individuals good fortune. Yet he shows no compassion or desire to act on his own. Now do you understand why we do not trust it?”
“You mean he is fighting alone?” the girl asked.
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