Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [50]
“Solace!” Nightshade repeated excitedly. “My favorite place in the whole world! Gerard’s there, and he’s the best sheriff in the whole world. Not to mention chicken and dumpling day at the Inn of the Last Home. Is that Tuesday? I think it was Tuesday. Or is Tuesday pork chop and green beans day?”
The kender returned to his work with renewed vigor. Drawing on his own information (gleaned from fellow kender and therefore not entirely to be relied upon) and Rhys’s knowledge of the lands through which they would have to travel, he eventually determined the route.
“We walk overland along the northern coast of the Kyrman Sea,” Nightshade explained, when it was all finished. “We go past the ruins of Micah, which, according to the map is about thirty miles, then we travel another seventy miles through the desert, and on to the city of Delphon. What do you know about the humans of Khur? I’ve heard they’re very fierce.”
“They are a proud people, renowned warriors, with strong loyalties to their tribes that often lead to blood feuds. But they are noted for their hospitality to strangers.”
“That never seems to include kender. Still, with all those blood feuds, they must have a lot of dead people hanging about. Perhaps they’ll need my services.”
Taking this hopeful view, Nightshade went back to his map. “There’s a road from Delphon that leads west through the hills to the capital city of Khuri-Khan. Then there’s another big stretch of desert and another hundred miles or so after that, and we come to Blöde, home of the ogres.”
Nightshade heaved a sigh. “Ogres like kender—for supper. And ogres kill humans or make them their slaves. But that’s the only way.”
“Then we must make the best of it,” said Rhys.
Nightshade shook his head. “If we get through Blöde alive—which is a big ‘if’—we come to the Great Swamp. A Dragon Overlord named Sable used to live there, but she’s dead and the curse she cast on that land died with her. Still, the swamp is a nasty place, with lizards and man-eating plants and poisonous snakes. After that, we have to find a way across the Westguard River, then we go west a bit, go south a bit, skirt the coastline of New Sea, travel through Linh and Salmonfall and we finally reach Abanasinia.
“Once there, we cross the Plains of Dergoth, then travel through Pax Tharkas and into what used to be Qualinesti past the Lake of Death. I have to admit I’m kind of looking forward to that part. I’ve heard there are lots of wandering spirits in the lake. Elf ghosts. I like elf ghosts. They’re always very polite. After that, we cross the White Rage River and then venture into Darkenwood, which isn’t all that darken anymore, from what I’ve heard. Then we head out over the Plains of Abanasinia, pass through Gateway and finally trek north to Solace. Whew!”
Nightshade wiped his brow and went off to fetch a mug of restorative ale. Rhys sat in his chair by the fire, contemplating the map, envisioning the journey.
A monk, a kender, a dog, and a six-year-old god.
Walking deserts, mountains, swamps, plains, forests. Encountering civil wars, border skirmishes, tribal battles, blood feuds. As well as the usual hazards of the road: washed-out bridges, forest fires, torrential rainstorms, bitter cold, sweltering heat. And the usual dangers: thieves, trolls, ogres, lizard-men, wolves, snakes, the odd wandering giant.
“How long do you think the trip will take us?” Nightshade asked, wiping foam from his lips.
A lifetime, Rhys thought.
1 Translation: “Shove off before I gut you, you little turd!”
hey left Flotsam the next morning, and for the first several miles the trip went well. Mina was entertained and diverted by the new and interesting sights. Farmers from outlying districts bringing goods to market exchanged friendly greetings. A caravan of wealthy merchants with men-at-arms guarding them took up the entire road. The men-at-arms were stern and business-like, but the merchants waved at Mina and, seeing the monk, asked for his blessing on their travels