Laura S. Fox
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Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 15
🕑 Added 2022-03-06 19:00:04 +0000 UTCChapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen – His Ambition
They were traveling southward again, and the scent of the wind was changing. Duril was thankful for the silver flower imprinted on his skin by Shearah’s small magical hand. It was a thrilling experience to hear what the wind said, here and there, but it wasn’t something he could completely share with his companions. For a while, as they were still in The Quiet Woods, he had thought this new ability of his might make him somewhat selfish, but Shearah had been quick to assure him that maybe it just made him a little foolish. Throughout his life, he had had very few things he considered his own. As a child, he had only known the lack of them and never an abundance. And now, here he was, a plethora of friends by his side, and in charge of particular kinds of magic, like nothing his kin had ever dreamed of. Duril didn’t dare to think of himself as unique, although Toru faithfully assured him that, more than anything, he was one of a kind, and for that reason and not only for it, he was much loved.
Claw suggested that they should not make it a leisurely trip to Scercendusa. There were many hamlets and even quaint little towns stretching along the path to the heart of the world, and Toru often demanded that they stop for a while only so they could sample the foods offered by each of them.
Duril believed that there was a certain wisdom in the way Claw urged them to march on. Could it be that Shearah had shared with him something that she hadn’t wanted to tell all of them? Taking advantage of a moment when Toru was chasing Varg around and they were laughing and teasing each other, he fell in line beside the bearshifter.
“Can I ask you something?”
Claw looked sideways at him and he looked a little guilty. That was enough to strike Duril as odd. A short nod encouraged him to go ahead with his question.
“Why do we have to hurry so much to get to Scercendusa?”
Claw threw him another strange look, but then he sighed. “Let’s say that I doubt you would believe me if I told you that there’s no time to waste.”
“We all know that. Still, a little break here and there couldn’t hurt. After all, even shapeshifters can get tired,” Duril pointed out.
“True. And shapeshifters might also get hunted a little.”
“Hunted?” The notion seemed somewhat farfetched, and Duril didn’t quite know what to think. “By whom?”
He waited, as Claw munched on his lower lip, and the look in his eyes turned a bit mischievous. “The honest answer to that question requires that I confess to certain troubles from my younger years.”
“Ah, I see,” Duril said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What kind of troubles?”
Claw pulled at one ear and winced. “It’s been centuries since, but I used to play pranks on the people in these lands.”
“I thought you didn’t get as far as Scercendusa,” Duril recalled.
“That’s true, but the more distance we travel, the safer the fur on my back will be,” Claw explained. “You see, when I was little more than just a cub who was supposed to know better, I was the playful kind.”
“I don’t believe that has changed an awful lot,” Duril pointed out.
“Thank you for thinking that, Duril, but in all honesty, I did things that didn’t endear the people in these parts to me and my lot much.”
“What could you have possibly done to warrant such sentiments? And it’s been three hundred years. I somehow doubt humans can hold grudges that last such a long time, I mean, when it’s over a prank, no matter how upsetting.”
“A prank, it was supposed to be,” Claw said. “But maybe there’s something I can teach you about humans, Duril. They’re not a forgiving or forgetting kind.”
“I’d say that it’s more about what they choose not to forgive or forget,” Duril argued. “You surely have all of my attention now. What did you do that you fear they might still remember? You do realize that the grudge must have been passed from generation to generation for quite a long time to still be alive today.”
“That’s something I’m not keen on discovering whether it is true or not. I suppose I should shed some light on my transgressions before you dismiss my worries as unfounded.”
“Please, go ahead. It looks like we have quite a long road ahead of us, which means that we should, indeed, pass the time with some stories.”
“Oh, I assure you, this is quite the story. You see,” Claw began, “the people from all the hamlets and towns between The Quiet Woods and the heart of the continent like to come together and celebrate each coming of a new fall with an amazing feast.”
“In Whitekeep, people were keener on celebrating the coming of each spring. After the terrible winters there, it was always a sign that we survived yet another year when the bad weather was finally gone, and we could hear the first birds searching for worms in the thawed earth.”
“These lands are abundant in foods of all kinds, and these are people of the harvest,” Claw said. “When fall comes, it is a sign for them to give one last push and prepare for winter, so they can rest. It was during one of these festivals that I decided to play a terrible prank on the inhabitants of these parts.”
“Did you eat all the food?” Duril asked.
Claw gave him a guilty look. “If it were only that. I bathed in their wine barrel.”
Duril frowned for a moment. “I suppose that was unpleasant, but it was just one wine barrel, right?”
Claw shook his head. “It was the wine barrel,” he emphasized each word.
“What do you mean?”
“You see, the people here have these very strange ideas that the best wine is obtained by throwing all the grapes into a giant oak barrel built in the middle of the place the festival is held. Then everyone gets together to squash the grapes until they’re turned into the primer for the wine they serve here.”
“What exactly did you do?”
Claw rubbed the back of his head. “I wanted to be a part of that, too. Without anyone from The Quiet Woods knowing, I snuck through the crowds and had a dandy time squashing the grapes just like everyone else. Only I was young and very impatient, and quite disappointed when I learned that we would all have to wait until the wine became, well, wine. So, that night, I went to the barrel, climbed inside, and began drinking the sweet potation therein until I couldn’t tell foot from hand. I shifted into my bear and swam around, in a state of pure beatific bliss. At one point, I even fell asleep, floating in the barrel. And, in the morning, when people came--”
“They found a bear in their wine,” Duril concluded for him.
“I had a pounding headache when I woke up.”
“From drinking so much wine.”
“Partially. I was tied up and pounded by villagers armed with canes and whatnot. They gave me a proper beating, I tell you.”
“That sounds a bit harsh.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Claw said with a self-deprecating snort. “For these people, that wine is sacred. I had committed a sacrilege in their eyes and paid for it, too.”
“But if you paid for it, why would they still hold a grudge?”
“Well, apparently, one of the people held in high regard among them attempted to drink from the wine in which I bathed. A hair from my fur stuck in his throat.”
“Did he die?” Duril asked.
“No. But he was their most beloved minstrel. His voice was forever compromised. What he was left with was an uncanny ability to make up slandering songs about shifters. Others sang them, of course. These songs might have lived long enough in the hearts and memories of people. I do not dare to verify if that’s true.”
“So, how did it go from slandering songs to shifters being chased?”
“Apparently, the songs were powerful enough to incense the righteousness of local fame and fortune seekers. They made a vow to chase down shifters and bring their heads back to the place where the original deed was done.”
Duril shivered. “Did they succeed? I mean, how many shifters--”
“None, as far as I know. Shifters are not easy to hunt down, and the people here are farmers and merchants, not warriors. But you can understand why I didn’t care to visit the place again after they finally let me go. So, if you happen to see me refuse a certain vintage here and there, don’t ask why.”
“I won’t,” Duril promised. “Well, if that is the case, how long do we have until we reach Scercendusa?”
“By tomorrow if we don’t sleep tonight. But I won’t suggest that,” Claw hurried to add. “Once we get to the most glorious city of the empire, we will need to find a place to put our heads down, as sleeping in the street is frowned upon there.”
“I can always offer my services as a healer,” Duril suggested.
“That will come in handy, without a doubt. The rest of us can offer our strong backs. There’s always work in Scercendusa, people say. I doubt it will take us long to find something to do.”
Duril nodded thoughtfully. Claw’s little run-in with the local justice reminded him that they should never take for granted the generosity or benevolence of those who cared to share them. Usually, humans were mistrustful of strangers, and they wouldn’t hesitate to condemn them, whether they were at fault or not. Claw’s being chased down and brutalized for a mishap like that seemed awfully blown out of proportion. Duril decided that they would be more careful from here on out.
***
Since Shearah had warned them about not showing their shifter natures, Toru felt a bit restless as they approached their next destination. At night, especially, he enjoyed shifting into his fur and enjoying the freedom that came with it, being able to roam the fields and forests to his heart’s content. The scenery had changed around them a lot, and Varg had explained to him that the cultivated fields and the forbidden forests were part of the influence the city had over the neighboring lands. Scercendusa needed grains, animal pelts, salt, iron, and a human workforce to function, among many other things. For that reason, all the surrounding towns, villages, and hamlets fed the city.
“But what does the city give them?” Toru asked.
“I assume that the people are rewarded in kind for their contribution,” Varg said. “There is plenty of coin to go around, I’ve heard.”
They had stopped very little along the way, so that kind of information must have been gathered before by Varg as the wolfshifter had taken short trips through these towns and villages.
“And what do they do with the coin?” Toru asked. “They seem to have everything they need right here.” He gestured, opening his arms as wide as he could manage.
“Not everything people need can be seen with the naked eye,” Varg explained further. “The city protects them. When others came to take Scercendusa by storm, the city stood strong and protected these vassal lands, as well.”
“But those others,” Toru argued, “they came because they hoped to get to all the riches of the city, right?”
Varg agreed with a nod.
“Then, maybe they would have been left alone if Scercendusa wasn’t close to them.”
“Maybe,” Varg admitted. “There is truth in what you say, Toru. Also, the purity of your heart.”
Toru threw his companion a suspicious look. “Is that your way of telling me I’m silly?”
Varg shook his head. “Merely naïve, but not even that. You see, Toru, when people want more than what they can have, they are called greedy. The people living here, working to fuel Scercendusa with goods and bodies, they’re not to blame. But some of them only dream of getting there, to the seat of power, and become someone.”
“Someone like who? Aren’t they someone already? Since they are born?”
Varg patted Toru on the shoulder. “I’m sure you will never change, Toru, but still, I will tell you. Never change. It is not a lack of character on your part that you cannot see what makes these people want to leave their lands and head over to the gilded promises of Scercendusa. That must be why I have a hard time explaining it to you. Let me try to put things another way. What’s your biggest ambition in life?”
“To be with you, Duril, and Claw. And to eat a lot of good food,” Toru replied promptly.
“That’s commendable of you, but many people living here, close to the heart of the world, would call you a man who lacks ambition.”
“I’m not a man. I’m a shifter.” Toru puffed out his chest.
“That might explain why you don’t seek silly rewards. For me, it was always to protect my pack and the lands that took us in.”
Toru felt slightly embarrassed. Varg spoke of valiant things, while he only thought of having a full belly and being with the ones he loved. It seemed that the wolfshifter guessed what crossed his mind, because he took him by the shoulders, pulling him into a half-hug. “Others are different from us. Do you remember Shroudharbor and what drove those merchants to madness?”
“All those beautiful jewels they took from the bodies of the people they killed,” Toru replied right away. “But they were stained with blood, and they were just greedy.”
“Not everyone would go to those extremes,” Varg continued. “They might just want a better house, better clothes, and to have more than their neighbors. While they would be happy with less, they are blind to it.”
Toru pondered for a while. “Is Scercendusa built on nothing but greed, then? People who want more just go there, and that’s what happens? But that means that it might not be that different from Shroudharbor. The domestikos might be just as bad as those merchants.”
“There are good things about the place, too. Duril visited Elidias’s library in Shroudharbor and learned many things about your destiny. Some beautiful things like the ones Shearah told us about being housed in Scercendusa, works of art and not only, they might not have ever existed without it.”
“Ah, this is hard to understand,” Toru complained. “Is Scercendusa a good or a bad place?”
“That remains for us to decide for ourselves, I believe.” Varg guided him by the shoulders. “And we will learn about it and think with our own heads.”
***
Varg understood why Toru would have a hard time understanding what motivated humans to build a place like Scercendusa. Before they met, Varg would have said to anyone else asking that the world was just built that way, and that there will always be people who want more. Questioning why it was so doesn’t help anyone understand the nature of the world. Right now, however, under Toru’s scrutinizing eyes and candid questions, he realized that it was natural and wise to question it.
What would the domestikos of Scercendusa think of their dilemma? Varg expected Ewart Kona to be nothing less than the embodiment of everything the heart of the world, the gilded city, represented. If there was one man he could ask about it, it had to be the domestikos. What would he believe of tales of destiny that put the heavy burden of saving the world on the shoulders of a young tigershifter? Varg suspected that he might get a good laugh in the face. After all, Ewart Kona was a man who dealt swiftly with enemies, and for all his piety, Varg suspected that he didn’t quite believe in heaven or hell.
Shifters lived and died by simple rules, unlike the ever changing moods of humans. Even in Whitekeep, Varg had seen the face of ambition, even if it manifested in petty ways. There were always neighbors who wanted to have more, and some who tried to get a bigger slice of the pie. But all those faults of human nature did not impede the town from living the way it always had.
Now that he thought about it, things hadn’t always been so fine and set in stone. Varg only needed to look at Duril and remember how he had been judged unfairly and even abused by those who didn’t believe that someone like him, a half-human, half-orc, deserved a place among them. Duril hadn’t been the only one at the receiving end of the cruelty of people with such narrow minds.
“What are you thinking about?” Toru asked, probably bothered by Varg’s prolonged silence.
“Nothing in particular.” Varg didn’t want to share his own dilemmas with Toru. His pure mind would surely have a hard time comprehending the duality of humans. Even he had to remind himself that there were also kind-hearted humans like Rory, Agatha, and Elidias, as well as Moony and his parents. For all those good people, they needed to soldier on and decipher the mystery of Toru’s destiny and what it took to save the world.
“How big is Scercendusa? Bigger than Shroudharbor?” Toru asked.
“Without a doubt bigger than that. Shearah told us a few things about it, and she insisted that she couldn’t really tell us everything. I’d say that Shroudharbor would fit into just one neighborhood in Scercendusa.”
Toru knitted his eyebrows, trying to paint an image of the place in his mind before they got there. Varg had been doing the same ever since they left The Quiet Woods behind them, so he couldn’t hold him at fault.
“And how many neighborhoods as big as Shroudharbor would there be?” Toru continued asking his questions.
“Many dozens,” Varg offered a vague reply. He didn’t know the answer to that, either.
Toru’s eyes grew wide. “I cannot imagine a place like that.”
“If it comforts you, neither can I,” Varg offered. “All the more reason for us to keep our minds open for what awaits us there.”
“Are you sure that we need to keep our shapeshifter natures a secret? In a place as big as that, I suppose that they have seen shifters before,” Toru said.
“I won’t say that you don’t have a point, but shifters might not be too keen on visiting a place as restrictive as that. I, for one, never heard of a shifter who had traveled and stayed in Scercendusa, but I’m only one shifter, and the city is home to many thousands of people if not more.”
Toru seemed lost in thought for several moments. “You know what I think, Varg? I think that we will find shifters in Scercendusa. We only need to search for them very carefully. If the guardians of the city don’t like shifters changing into their true forms, they probably stay hidden.”
“I think you make an excellent point,” Varg admitted. “As much as the city is a symbol for law and order, that doesn’t mean that some shifters didn’t find a way to live there. I don’t know what kind of shifters they would be, since most of our kin prefer forests and open lands where they can roam and hunt, but there could be some who adapted to city life, without a doubt. I’m glad you told me your thoughts on this. I’ll keep them in mind once we get there.”
Toru smiled with pride. “I am using my head,” he said and pointed at his temple.
“Of course, you are. I’ve never doubted it,” Varg added and ruffled Toru’s hair. “Let’s get to Scercendusa first, and we will seek out other shifters. If they are there, that would be good for us.”
***
Duril noticed that Toru slowed down, whispered something to Varg, and then fell behind. Claw must have seen the same thing because he said as Toru walked toward them, “I’d better see what Varg is getting up to. Something about the way he’s throwing those looks over his shoulder tells me that he might have some naughty secrets to share.”
Duril was grateful for Claw’s knowing of how to be tactful about whatever lay heavy on Toru’s mind. He just nodded at him in acquiescence and settled his gaze on the young tigershifter. Toru took his hand and walked by his side in silence for a while. Attuned as he was to his partner’s way of thinking by now, Duril didn’t say a word and waited patiently for Toru to be the first to speak.
“What are your ambitions, Duril?” Toru suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
“Ambitions? I like to think that I’m not guilty of having something like that,” Duril tried to make light of the question. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. People say that it’s good to have ambitions.”
“But what do you think?” Toru demanded to know.
Duril pondered over his next reply. Whatever had brought this on, it had to be important enough for Toru to be troubled, so he needed to pay it proper attention and consideration, as well. “I think that there are good ambitions and bad ambitions. I mean, I’ve never considered myself as someone who was ambitious, but I did dream of owning my own shop where I could sell my potions. Some may call that an ambition, too.”
“So, dreams can be ambitions?” Toru asked.
“I suppose you could say that.”
“But what makes good ambitions different from bad ambitions?” Toru inquired further.
Again, Duril took his time to offer a reply that was honest and easy to understand at the same time. “I think it has to do with how they affect other people. If your ambitions can only be reached at the cost of other people’s misery, they must be bad. But if they don’t hurt anyone, or even more, they bring happiness to others, I believe that they should be called good.”
“Your ambition of owning your own potion store was good,” Toru said.
“I like to believe so, yes.”
“It was good,” Toru insisted, as if he wanted to eliminate any doubt from Duril’s mind.
Duril was thankful for it. “Why are we talking about ambitions? What’s on your mind?” he asked.
Toru breathed a deep, heartfelt sigh. “This place we’re heading to, Scercendusa, is a place where people have many ambitions.”
“Yes, you can certainly say that. It is a magnificent place, called the heart of the world. There must be some truth to that name. Some people may go there to become rich, others to seek fame, and many probably are there just in search of a better life.”
“What about the domestikos of Scercendusa? What is his ambition?”
“That is a very good question, Toru. We have yet to meet him, so we cannot know for sure what he’s thinking. People say both good and bad things about him. He has always protected the city, and Scercendusa has become a more orderly place under his rule. Because he doesn’t appear to take any interest in the usual vices humans fall prey to, people say he is a holy ruler, as well.”
“Enlightened,” Toru remembered.
“Yes. There has to be some truth behind why people hold him in such high esteem. That he secured happiness for Scercendusa through means that might not be seen as holy, may be a different matter. I know that it is difficult to decide whether Ewart Kona is a good or a bad man, but that is why we must meet him and see for ourselves.”
“From what Shearah told us, I think that his ambition is to see the city prosper,” Toru said, seemingly choosing his words carefully.
“Yes.”
“And he doesn’t keep from spilling blood if that’s what it takes. Such as when the city was attacked.”
“That is true.”
“Then maybe his choices were all justified, don’t you think? When we fought the evil in Shroudharbor, or Vilemoor, or The Great Barren, we didn’t stop. Especially the last time.” Toru threw Duril a questioning look. “We had to fight against all those orcs. And we had to spill their blood.”
“I doubt that any of the orcs of Zukh Kalegh would find fault with what you did. It was a battle to the death, the kind they understand. It is their way of living, and they wouldn’t have hesitated in your stead, either. I did spill some orc blood myself, when Yarag asserted his rule over those who had tried to poison him.”
That appeared to make Toru feel relieved. “That’s true. Could it be that the domestikos of Scercendusa did the same against the enemies of the city?”
“It could be. We have yet to acquire knowledge of Ewart Kona’s dealings.”
“The place has a lot of history, doesn’t it?” Toru asked. “Then maybe we can learn about his deeds from all those precious tomes stored in their libraries. I mean, you can learn. I don’t know how to read.”
“Would you like me to teach you?” Duril asked. “It’s not very hard. And you’re very smart.”
Toru smiled sheepishly and gratefully. “All right, but if it gets too hard, and I cannot understand, don’t tell Claw and Varg.”
“Of course not. It will be our secret. But just so you know, Toru, they would never judge you.”
Toru puffed out his chest. “I know that. But I want to see the look on Varg’s face when I read something in front of him and take him by surprise.”
“When you put it like that, I have nothing against it,” Duril said with a big smile on his face.
***
“Toru doesn’t think himself very well-prepared for whatever Scercendusa has in store for us.” Varg spoke the words that he suspected reflected what was going through Claw’s head, as well.
“I doubt any of us is,” Claw pointed out.
“True,” Varg admitted. “I’ve never paid attention to politics before, and it’s not like there was much of that at Whitekeep. We had a mayor and a few families pulling the strings, so to speak. They were decent people. In a place as harsh as that, there’s not much choice to be otherwise. Tighten the screw too much, and people would just pack up and leave in search of a place that’s kinder to them.”
“Scercendusa is not a small town in the north,” Claw commented. “I understand your worries completely, my friend. I had a taste of those merchants’ cunning ways, and of betrayal, too, but I cannot say that it makes me any better suited for conducting our affairs once we get to Scercendusa.”
Varg sighed. “Does that mean that it will all fall on me?”
Claw grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him vigorously. “You won’t be alone. You don’t have to worry. I knew that you would come to me with these doubts at some point. Toru is too young and pure-hearted to make tough decisions if the situation requires it.”
Varg confirmed the same with a grunt.
“And Duril is too kind. Even presented with what would be the most practical choice, if it involves hurting some people, he might not be willing to agree to it very easily.”
“We’re going to meet people of many kinds,” Varg said. “They will be just as sly as the merchants from Shroudharbor when you first met them.”
“Even moreso. Those merchants ruled a small part of the world, as we have learned clearly from our travels. But the domestikos of Scercendusa, he is a true ruler. He is someone we would do better not to fear, but to believe capable of any sort of ruthlessness.”
Varg nodded. He was content that Claw confirmed what he also thought. “There is a chance he might be on our side once he learns of the purpose of our visit. And he’ll have to learn of it eventually, I believe. Keeping secrets from him might not sit well with him. Not to mention, he has power on his side, power we might need to use if the evil comes to Scercendusa with us.”
“If it’s not already there,” Claw added. “I agree with you. Ewart Kona could be an important ally. As valiant as all of you are --”
“Don’t forget to include yourself among the valiant,” Varg interrupted. “I hope you don’t plan on ditching us so that you can protect your hide,” he joked.
“I wouldn’t dream of that. Well, as I was saying, as courageous as we four might be, in case there are large populations of people that must be moved in order to be protected, it might be a lot more than we can handle.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Sure, there is a chance that the evil won’t follow us to Scercendusa, but it doesn’t look like it has wanted to leave us alone on our path forward so far. It is best if we are at least prepared in our hearts and minds to confront it, if not otherwise.”
“Spoken like a true pack leader. I’m slightly envious of you, puppy,” Claw admitted with affection in his voice.
“Why is that?”
“Your kin likes togetherness. Bears not so much. Beast and Willow get along, but they’re partners; they’re together. And The Quiet Woods is a special place. Somehow, I always knew that I’d follow the call of the road by myself. Now, I’m happy that I have all of you by my side. Or, better said, that you accepted me and allowed me to come along.”
Varg moved one arm to take Claw by the waist. “If you hadn’t said you’d come on your own accord, I would have dragged you with me.”
“That so?” Claw challenged him.
“Yes,” Varg replied in kind and planted a hard kiss on Claw’s lips.
They were in this together, for better or worse. And if fate demanded that they face unfathomable dangers, they would still do their best.
TBC
