Page 8 of Darik's Quest

“Of course there is,” Imgraye answered, obviously relishing his ignorance. “The legend tells of a high chief hundreds of years ago who needed help for his favorite wife to bear him an heir— she had the problems of which you speak. Indeed many of our women suffer from this. He sent a hundred of his best men to the spring and only ten returned but they brought with them a vast quantity of the sacred water. The chief established a special priesthood to guard and administer the waters, which they do to this day.”

More myths and legends. Darik tried not to clench his jaw or loosen his fangs. He homed in on the part of her story which interested him the most. “Why did so few men survive? Were there deserters?”

Imgraye shook her head. “The spring is difficult to reach and guarded by fearsome monsters. Many try to obtain the waters from the source and nearly all fail.”

Probably no monster equal to the one I can become, Darik thought skeptically. He couldn’t shift into his beast but with his fangs and talons deployed he was more than a match for any monster on this planet. “I see. And you say the water these soldiers gathered is still at this temple?” He assumed the priests were doling out diluted water or even fake water at this point, centuries later.

“The precious liquid is kept in a specially constructed container made from beaten gold and blessed by the chief healer and high priest of the time. It is said the goddess renews the supply when needed as a reward for the bravery of the original soldiers.”

None of it sounded good to Darik and the Great Mother had told him specifically to find the spring. “Do you have a map? I need to see where this temple is and where the spring is said to be.”

“I should charge you extra,” she said with a laugh. Rising she rummaged through the trunk and came back with a blank piece of scraped hide. Using a piece of charcoal from the fire, she drew a map for him freehand and as he watched her create a mountain range and several mighty rivers between where he sat now and the place where the temple had been established, his decision was made for him. “I don’t have time to journey all that way. It would take weeks, crossing the mountains alone.”

“Probably.” She puffed on her pipe and watched him.

“So where’s the spring?”

Imgraye picked up her primitive crayon again and began tracing a route from the spot where this encampment was located, going northeast. It was a much shorter route and he didn’t see many obstacles in the way, unlike the other choice. As if she was reading his mind, the old healer said, “Don’t be fooled, legends state it’s rough terrain, with monsters and beasts wandering freely. Remember I told you the old chief sent a hundred men and only ten came home.”

“I’ll make it,” Darik said with complete confidence. He eyed the crude map, assessing whether she’d included enough details to enable him to locate the spring. Deciding she had, he pulled the piece of cured hide to him and rolled it up, securing it with a piece of string she handed to him. He made room for it in the pack and was ready to leave. “Thank you, Healer Imgraye, for your time and your counsel and the map.”

“One minute, impatient wolf. I need to read your tea leaves and then our session is complete.” She reached for his mug, where an assortment of leaf bits had sunk to the bottom, sloshing in leftover tea as she tilted the cup.

Darik gritted his teeth, seeing little point in this final ritual but figuring there was no point in being rude.

Imgraye’s face settled into an expression of absolute horror, mouth open, eyes wide and staring, and she flung the mug away into the fire, where it broke against the logs.

“What is it? What did you see?” He was taken aback by her reaction.

Imgraye buried her face in her hands. “Get out.”

He rose, grabbing his spear and the pack but hesitated. “Are you going to be all right? Should I call someone to come in?”

She raised her tear-stained face and stared at him. “Not your fortune, mine. My people’s. I thank the goddess I’ll not be here to see this destiny unfold. Safety in the afterlife will be a blessing. Now go.”

Guessing her abilities might have brought her a vision of the fate awaiting the Badari and the planet, Darik’s heart was heavy but there was nothing he could say or do to be helpful so he trudged out of the tent, carefully looping the flap behind him. He was adjusting the pack on his shoulders, debating whether to seek food at one of the campfires when a squad of men surrounded him.

He straightened to his full height. The same soldier who’d harassed him at the entrance to the gathering was in charge of this group. Darik could take them all and escape easily but so far they hadn’t threatened him, despite their demeanor. “What do you want?” he asked. “Can’t a peaceful traveler consult a healer in peace?”

“The high chief wants a word with you,” the officer said, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Why?”

“High chief Javon doesn’t owe you any explanation, traveler. Come with us.”

Darik didn’t care for the man’s tone or the way the squad formed up around him as if he was a prisoner under guard but reminded himself he was perfectly capable of extricating himself from the situation at any time. These people had no stunners, no deadly Khagrish drugs to incapacitate him. He was a senior Badari soldier and could wreak havoc before these men could inflict a mortal wound on him. Yes their spears and swords could wound him but he’d heal almost immediately and his fangs and talons would decimate them before he used his Badari speed to escape. His inner predator paced, liking the idea of combat.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” Darik said, reminding himself and his beast at the same time he tried to reassure the soldiers as they all marched through the encampment toward the big tent which dominated all others. People stared as he passed by.

“Then you won’t mind answering a few questions for the high chief,” the soldier in charge said smugly. “What happens after you meet with him is in the hands of the goddess.”

Darik was silent for the rest of the walk. He was escorted into the large tent by the soldiers and found he was facing an empty seat. The arrangement of the space was much like Imgraye’s had been but on a grander scale, with a fire ring, a low table, heaps of pillows and cushions for seating and an elaborately carved wooden chair for the high chief. Oil lamps on stands blazed throughout the room, giving excellent illumination.

He wondered how long he was going to have to wait when a man strode through the opening at the back of the tent, entering from another room. Startled, Darik believed for a moment he was gazing at Aydarr. The newcomer was tall, well built, projecting an air of authority and his facial features resembled those of Darik’s own Supreme Alpha to such an extent he was positive he was in the presence of one of Aydarr’s actual Badari ancestors.

The high chief returned the salute the soldiers offered him and sat in the wooden chair. Rubbing his chin, he studied Darik. “So you’re the stranger from the north,” he said.

The voice was deep and powerful but it wasn’t Aydarr’s voice and Darik relaxed a bit. This time travel stuff messed with a man’s mind. “I’m Darik, of the northern clan, yes.”

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