We travelled the rest of the day, covering around ten miles, given by the ache my legs started to feel. Our journey took us deeper into the forests, where the trees were much taller, and everything looked the same. Sila, Gore and Gertha led the way, while Sayo and I followed just behind them. The canopy of the forest was thick with foliage, and so Eggs stalked behind us, occasionally licking the back of my neck with their rough, forked tongue. Sayo had shared a little about the camp with me. They were one of many groups of Nomads inhabiting the forest and numbered in the low hundreds. She didn’t tell me much more than that, assuring me that when I saw it, it’d all make sense.
Eggs seemed to tolerate her, though, although they backed away when Sayo tried to pet them. I couldn’t hear what Sila and Gertha spoke about, but she laughed long and hard at something he said.
“You don’t have to walk with me if you want to spend some time with Gertha.” I smiled.
“I will speak with Melrisia soon enough. Besides, newcomers must be watched.” She grinned as I raised an eyebrow and then patted the scythe blades on her belt.
“If the newcomers are bad, they will meet my scythes.” She laughed.
I whistled dramatically, “Then I shall be on my best behaviour." I grinned back. The trees began to get thinner, and I could see the glow of campfires in the distance.
“Then my scythes and you shall remain strangers. But not us.” She walked ahead of me and gestured for me to join her side, “We’re here, Tullen Fal Barraz! Come see our home!”
We stepped into a clearing, and I was careful where I walked, for I could see tree stumps that had recently been felled. Despite this, the clearing was still covered. I looked with wonder as I saw thick, vine-wrapped ropes connected to every other tree around the outskirts of the clearing. The ropes formed a net with leaves, branches, and other foliage attached. It hung around fifteen feet off the ground, covering an area of at least fifty meters. Small tents were erected in circles, while fires burned around the perimeter. Nomads stood sentry at intervals, holding bows with large spears on the ground in front of them. Each guard had a small brazier burning next to them, and I recognised the oil-soaked wick for flaming arrows wrapped around their arrows.
These people were hardened woodland survivors, used to fighting those bastard Lizards on their home turf, with nothing but bloody-mindedness and flame to keep them back. You had to hand it to them, any people that could survive without stone walls and a Kingdom at their backs were hard bastards.
Gertha turned back to us.
“Tull, it's best if you and Eggs wait there. Let us forewarn the camp that the Wyvern isn’t a threat.” She said. Sila and Sayo immediately began walking into the camp as Gertha followed after them. Having not been given a chance to reply, I just stood with Eggs, who looked at me with their head cocked.
“I don’t know which Wyvern she means, either Eggs. We’re both pretty deadly, I’d say.”
Eggs flapped their wings and started sniffing the ground near the trees, licking it occasionally. I watched them with one eye while studying the camp. More guards had appeared nearby, no doubt keeping a dutiful eye on us both. We all stood watching each other for a few minutes before Sila returned to the outskirts of camp. He spoke with the guards for a few moments before calling me over.
“Tullen Fal Barraz. Come meet with our Chieftain.” He called, smiling.
I walked over, holding my scabbard with my off hand so it didn’t flap around unnecessarily. Eggs followed after me, barely making any noise at all.
“The Wyvern…umm. Eggs will have to stay out here.” Sila said, shifting on his feet.
I grunted. I’d expected this in all honesty. If you spent your entire life guarding against and avoiding the Wyrms, Drakes and Dragons of the world, then asking for one to wait on the outskirts is actually quite a tolerant attitude to have. I looked over my shoulder, my heart warming when Eggs’ golden eyes lit up as our gazes locked.
“Wait here Eggs,” I said softly, my voice full of warmth.
Eggs cocked their head to one side, before chirruping and sat back on their tail. The guards took a step back, and Eggs merely watched them, chirruping. I turned back to Sila, who nodded, and we walked into the centre of the camp. Through the trees, I could see other pockets of clearing just like this one, with similar tents and campfires. That made sense; the siblings had mentioned a few hundred people in their group. By spreading out, they reduced the overall injury and damage risk of an attack but could still rapidly respond wherever the threat arose. I like the planning they’d gone into; it was pragmatic, with survival at its core. Peevan would have approved.
We reached a central tent, unlike the others, which were the colour of earth, dirt and grime; this was a gentle offwhite. Clearly faded and stained over time, but still enough to radiate sunlight if it were directly in sight of it. Clearly, this was the Free Nomad’s version of Perek’s gilded hall. The tent was tall, taller than any man, at about ten feet. Two guards stood outside the entrance and held spearshafts with a long, curved cutting blade on the end. These were much larger versions of Sayo’s own blades.
One of them stood forward, “You must leave your weapon with me.” I looked him over; he was a stern-faced man with five claw scars down his ruined face, his eyes flicked just below mine, no doubt noting me as a killer of men. I doubted he had much to be nervous about; this man had taken a strike from a Drake, probably a juvenile and lived to tell the tale. I unslung my baldric and handed the blade over.
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“Lie it flat, I don’t want the blade bending,” I said.
“Of course,” the man said, visibly relaxing when I handed my sword over without argument.
I stepped through the flaps of the tent.
The tent was warm, with the smells of spices, incense and some herbs lying heavy in the air. It was lit only by candles, the dull glow giving the tent a cosy feel. Around the edges of the large canvas were various cushions, animal skins and small tables at knee height, with plates of food arranged neatly. The food was simple, berries, meat and thin flatbreads but make no mistake, this was the tent of the one in charge, and these luxuries were the sign of deep respect.
Sat opposite the entrance, on a simple chair made of Stag spines and Wyrm bone, was the largest man I had ever seen. He was at least two heads taller than I was, with a thick, broad chest, arms that would make a maiden swoon and an axe as wide as my torso was long. He wore only hide trousers, leather boots and a large, thick belt. He had a thick white beard and a shaved bald head. The parts of his skin not covered in scars were inked with images of Wyrms, Drakes and Dragons. There were other variants of the beasts tattooed on him also, one had four wings, another had six legs. He dwarfed Gertha and Sayo, who sat on small stools opposite him.
He rose from his seat, mercifully leaving the axe propped up against it before striding towards me, arms outstretched.
“TULLEN, SON OF BARRAZ. IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU!” His voice boomed through the tent, and he threw back his head and laughed, thick lines creasing around his eyes.
Before I could react, he swept me up in his arms and embraced me, lifting my feet a full foot off the ground before dropping me down.
“I am Bulriar, leader of this band of nomads and bane of Lizards everywhere. You have protected one of our lost, and so I extend to you our heartiest of welcomes and my protection while you remain here. Do you accept?” He was no longer shouting, but his voice still shook through me.
“Well met, Bulriar, I accept, with thanks. As long as no harm befalls my…pet.” I said, smiling and feeling giddy as my lungs warmed to the scent in the air.
“HAH! I have heard you’re a man walking in the wake of a Myth. No harm shall befall your pet so long as it doesn’t bring harm to my people. Do we have an accord?” He grinned widely, and I couldn’t help but like him. His eyes twinkled, and he had a laugh that gently eased one out of you as well.
“Yes. We have an accord!” I answered and was promptly lifted up again, although this time Bulriar kissed me hard on the forehead and dropped me to my feet once more.
“GOOD! Come, Tullen, son of Barraz. We have much to discuss and much to decide!” Bulriar gestured to an empty stool before sitting back in his chair. I took my seat while rubbing my forehead, which was throbbing from the force of the kiss. My knees came to my chest and I realised just then that we were all sat in a perfect semi circle in front of Bulriars throne. The axe across his knee gleamed with the promise of a swift and painless death should Bulriar decide to unleash it, and in the position I was sitting in, it would be hard to jump up and run away.
For all his jovial nature and talk, I knew I was in the presence of an experienced killer. One with more markings of Lizards than me for once.
“You helped Melrisia escape the Avanish Son of Barraz, and that makes me very grateful to you.”
“She helped me just as much; we made an…accord of our own,” I replied, smiling at Gertha. She smiled thinly before turning back to face Bulriar. She was strangely silent for once, and I wondered if this was some kind of Nomad protocol. A speak when spoken to type deal. That had been popular with Peevan, too.
“I was offered much by your former King for your capture if I found you, Son of Barraz.”
“Was it more than your gratitude is worth?” I asked warily, pointing my feet to the right as slowly as I could. If he swung for me, I could fall to the floor and dodge his first strike. The rest was up to how much of a swine the Mummer felt like being today.
Bulriar leaned forward, a gleam in his eye that matched the one from his axe blade as it caught the candlelight.
“No.” He smiled, “I do not care for King Perek, or the Mouth he sent, I found him to be rather…shrill.” He barked a laugh, and I joined in. It wasn’t a lesson that Peevan taught me, but when a man that large laughs, it's best to laugh along with them.
“So Avandun is hunting me and Ger- Melrisia? Do you know why? We’re just two people.” I said.
“Melrisia is magic-touched, touched quite a bit more than any of us. Perek will miss her abilities and you? And in your case, Son of Barraz, you guarded the walls of Avandun, you wear a Wyvern on your face, and the Cemfyllians would pay a pretty penny for one with your collection of knowledge and secrets.” Bulriar whispered now, and I felt my mouth tingle. I realised now that the room we were in had something burning within that had an ambient, residual magic to it. It was pleasant, it felt oddly safe.
“I wouldn’t sell anything to the Cemfyllians,” I said, feeling an odd sense of patriotism to the Kingdom that would no doubt hang me from the walls.
“Ah! You do not support the warring of man against man?” Bulriar chuckled.
“No,” I said.
“Ironic, for one with the mark of The Black Wyvern.” He said, leaning in to look deeply into my eyes.
“There are other things warring against man. Lizards…the Dead.” I whispered. Bulriar’s eyes lit up when I said this.
“So, Tullen Son of Barraz, the Black Wyvern, has met the Fugue and lived to tell me all about it.” Bulriar put the axe to one side and cupped both sides of my face.
“The Fugue?” I whispered, my heart catching in my chest.
“It is the name for this thing you came across, and if you and Melrisia hope to reach the Hold of the Arcuzane, to seek the help of the last Magis. You have much to learn.” His words hung in the air for a moment, while we shared the strangely intimate gaze.
The moment was shattered by a long, dull horn sounding far off in the distance. Sayo and Gertha looked up, standing slowly as Bulriar jumped to his feet.
“What is it?" I asked. Standing as well.
Bulriar grabbed his axe and grinned.
“My chance to earn another mark! Come, Son of Barraz. Show me how Black Wyverns fight a Drake!”
He ran out of the tent, his passing extinguishing some of the closest candles.
When I heard him giggle, I decided I liked the mad bastard.

