There was but the slightest trace of false dawn in the east when Gabrielle gently shook Gander's shoulder to wake him. Thanking her he slowly got to his feet. Walking over to the nearby brook he took time to splash some of the icy cold water in his face. Then, looking about, he noticed every last one of the prostrate forms of the night before were gone.
Humph, he thought, I must be losing my touch. Oh well. At least a few of them will be back shortly if I don't miss my guess.
Gabrielle watched as the Wizard moved off, just out of sight, and wondered what he was up to. It didn't take long for her nose to give her the answer. The gentle morning breeze began to carry a most appetizing aroma of baking bread.
The sun had just risen when Gabrielle and Xena, who'd awakened only a few minutes before, saw Gander returning; half carrying, half dragging, two large sacks which appeared heavily laden and another, larger, wine skin which hung from a strap over his shoulder.
They went out to meet him and relieved him of his burdens.
"This looks like breakfast for an army!" Gabrielle exclaimed as she peeked into the sack she'd taken.
"Why so much?" Xena asked, looking into her sack.
"I think I did mention that I expected guests this morning." Gander said. "If I'm not mistaken those people, out there in the forest, haven't had anything like a decent meal in quite some time.
"The smell of freshly baked bread, carried on the breeze, ought to bring at least a few of them here to investigate. At least that's what I'm hoping because we really do need to speak with them.
"Something's going on in this region. Something which may effect us; either now or in the near future. So we'd better find out about it, whatever it is, before we walk into a situation fat, dumb, and happy and end up with our heads tucked neatly under our armpits."
The sacks he had brought back to their camp had been stuffed with fresh bread, wheels of cheese, and a variety of fresh fruit. At his request these were laid out in plain sight; not far from their fire ring.
There was nothing left to do but wait. And since waiting could be hungry work, as Gander put it, he suggested they proceed with their own breakfast.
They were about half way through with their meal when they saw two men, one looking a bit elderly and the other in his teens, coming towards them from the tree line.
"I do believe," Gander said quietly, "the first of our guests are arriving. Let's make them welcome, shall we?"
Gander came to his feet. Taking both his staffs in his left hand he waved with his right hand, in a friendly way, at the approaching figures and following his example Xena and Gabrielle did likewise.
Seeing this the two figures stopped momentarily, and appeared to look at each other, before continuing their approach.
They stopped just short of where the food had been laid out. Several moments past as the two of them stood there, not saying a word. Perhaps, Gander thought, they just didn't know what to say. Finally Gander broke the silence.
"I am Gander. These two young ladies," he said while pointing in their direction, "are my friends. This is Xena; Warrior Princess. And next to her is her closest friend, and Master Teller of Tales, Gabrielle.
"So. ... Now that you know who we are, ... just who are you?"
"I am Akress," said the older man. "Headman of my village. Or at least I was. We, my people, ... have no village to call our own any longer. This one," he said, indicating the youngster at his side, "is Aldhoc, my son."
Again there was an embarrassed silence and again it was Gander who broke it. "Akress, ... Aldhoc, ... welcome. Please ... feel free to make yourselves comfortable," he said while pointing to some cushions laying close by.
The two seated themselves but there still remained an awkward silence. "I had a feeling we might have guests for breakfast this morning so, as you can see, I provided extra food and wine. I'm surprised more of your people didn't come but I'm sure what you don't eat yourselves will still be more than fresh enough for you to carry back to the rest of your people.
"Please. ... Enjoy yourselves." Gander said as he returned to his own seat and Xena and Gabriel went back to where they'd been sitting. Akress and Aldhoc gave each other a look. Then their need for food overwhelmed their lack of trust and sense of caution. As their 'guests' began to hungrily consume the food laid out before them Gander, Xena, and Gabrielle continued with their own breakfast and for half an hour not another word was said.
It was Akress who next spoke.
"Xena."
She looked up from the food she was just finishing.
"You we have heard of. Then who has not. The stories concerning you and your friend are legion. What we do not understand is your being in the company of a Magician, or Sorcerer, or whatever he is."
Gander just closed his eyes. His head dropped to his chest. He'd been afraid of something like this. This sort of thing always seemed to happen where-ever he went.
Xena gazed steadily at the older man.
"First," she said, "Gander is not a Sorcerer. He is a Wizard and there is a very big difference between the two."
Akress squirmed a bit where he was sitting.
"Can you guess what the difference might be?" Xena asked quietly.
Akress still made no reply.
"The main difference," said Xena," is that if Gander had been a Sorcerer, rather than the Wizard he is, I don't think we 'd be having this pleasant little talk right now. The reason being most, if not all, of you would be dead. Gander only stunned you. A Sorcerer, I suspect, would have laid waste to every last one of you.
"And while I'm at it shall I tell you another little secret?" she asked.
Again Akress and his son remained silent and Xena continued.
"Had Gander not been with us when you attacked Gabrielle and me the way you did last night you might have overwhelmed us eventually. But I assure you, Akress, the price you and your people would have paid for your victory would have been very dear indeed.
"This clearing," she said, pointing out to where the fight had been joined the previous evening," would now be strewn with your dead and dying as well as a great many others who would have been left maimed or crippled for the rest of their lives."
Aldhoc, the headman's son, spoke for the first time.
"Excuse me but I can tell you that had you not been in the company of this one," the youth said while pointing at Gander, "you would never have been molested. At least not by us."
"The boy speaks truly," Akress said, with a great weariness in his voice. "Of course we did not know who you were last night. But it wasn't until your Wizard friend set up your camp and provided all you would need, with no more than a light tap on the ground with one of his staffs, that we knew him to be at least a powerful Magician. We feared he was on his way to join forces with the other Magician."
Gander's head snapped up.
"What other Magician?!" He demanded. "Is that why you jumped us last night? You've been having trouble with a Magician of some sort?"
Akress simply nodded his head slowly in the affirmative and Gander fixed his gaze and all his attention on the old Headman.
"Well now. Why don't you tell us all about what's been happening here bout's and where this Magician fellow fits in?" Gander asked. "But before you do perhaps you should have your son bag up the rest of this food and take it back to your people.
"In fact why don't you have all your people come here. I'd wager you have both old and sick one's with you and if this is so I may be able to help at least a few of them."
Akress gave his son a nod and immediately the boy bagged up the food and put the additional wine skin over his shoulder. Then he turned and headed for the tree line and the deep gloom of the forest beyond.
"Now," Gander said, after the boy had disappeared into the forest, "tell us all and leave nothing out. If we know, precisely, what your problems have been we might be able to help you. Do you agree Xena?"
Xena gave an affirmative nod as did Gabrielle.
Akress sat silently for a few moments, staring at nothing in particular. Then, having gathered his thoughts, he began to speak and the whole, vile, tale began to come out; like so much puss from a lanced boil.
Their grief had begun simply and innocently enough, Akress told them. "One day a young magician walked into our village of Al Fahd. Kuhlamann was what he'd called himself.
"At first he seemed to be no more than another of these itinerant entertainers who go about from place to place earning a few coins, or their daily bread, by performing in the bazaars or public squares.
"This Kuhlamann was actually quite the handsome fellow and well set up physically. As for his clothes; he must have been quite successful for the clothes were all of fine cloth and were well cut and tailored. Also ... they were all black.
"There was something else which, in retrospect, should have put us all on our guard. Most wandering entertainers depend on a staff both to help them on their way and for defense. This Kuhlamann had no staff. Rather he carried a sword and like his garb and his boots this sword of his was also all black; the pommel, the grip, the guard, the scabbard, the whole thing.
"He'd begin his act with the usual feats; causing various objects to first disappear then reappear in the most unlikely places."
"And did this young dandy, by some chance, use fire as part of his act?" Gander asked.
"Why that was the very best part," Akress told them. "He didn't just swallow fire, like so many of these fellows do. He'd produce a number of round objects right out of thin air and, instantly, they'd burst into flame. With his bare hands he'd juggle these balls of fire for minutes at a time.
"Or, if he was performing near a food venders stall, he would go over to the venders brazier and take up a number of the red hot coals, again, in his bare hands. Sometimes he'd juggle these coals but, sometimes, he simply held them in the palms of his hands. Then, somehow, he would increase their heat until they glowed white hot. When he did this it wasn't very long before the coals were reduced to no more than a fine, powdery, ash which he would simply blow away.
"Amazingly there was never so much as a trace of a burn on his hands. In fact, when he showed his audience his hands, at the end of such a performance, they wouldn't even be dirty."
Xena and Gabrielle listened to all of this intently, as did Gander. Each felt a growing sense of unease as the man's story unfolded.
"One day the Chief Minister to the old lord Riphanay came to the village to attend to a few affairs and happened to witness one of these performances. Impressed he invited this young Magician to come to the fortress and perform before the court. By all accounts this Kuhlamann did quite well because he quickly became one of the old lord's favorites. However, before long, very ugly things began to happen.
"The very first thing to happen, about a month after the magician was invited to stay at the fortress, was the sudden death of the old lord Riphanay. One morning he was hale and healthy but by noon he'd taken to his bed. By the next morning he was dead. The lord's court physician tried everything he could think of but nothing he could do had the least effect.
"The old lord's wife had passed on several years before. But before her death the lord Riphanay had sired two children. One, the eldest, was a boy and the other a girl. In bringing the two of them up the lord Riphanay had taught them well. Among the first lessons they learned was that the villagers, the peasant farmers, and shepherds were always to be treated well; never mistreated or abused.
"They were taught that even though there might, occasionally, be times where firmness was required any action they might take had to be scrupulously fair and any judgment had to be tempered with mercy. They had been taught that their people were the very ones who provided the food, goods, and services which, in turn, increased the value of the lord's holdings and provided their family's income. This being the case their people should be treated well and with respect.
"The lord's children had even been encouraged to spend time at play with some of the young ones in the village. specially the children of the craftsmen and merchants. So the village had watched the old lord's young ones as they grew up into fine, young, adults.
"Both of them had been friendly and outgoing; until the coming of the Magician that is. After their father's death they became reclusive and began to shun their old childhood friends. It was as though they had become two entirely different people. Finally they ceased coming to the village altogether.
"The next disconcerting thing to happen was the dismissal of the Captain of the old lord's household guard; Maadrik. He'd been in the old lord Riphanay's service since the two of them were boys together and the two of them had been fast friends.
"Maadrik had even helped in raising the children. Essentially he'd been an integral part of the family. Yet, after the old lord's death, the boy and Maadrik had a falling out and the boy summarily dismissed him on the spot.
"After Maadrik's dismissal the entire household guard was relegated to standing guard outside the gates, patrolling and keeping the peace in the village, and the outlaying districts and settlements. They were never again allowed to step foot inside the fortress walls.
"Their old positions, inside the walls, were taken over by an entirely new and far larger force of soldiers; troops who's very appearance was enough to cause the blood to run cold in our veins. Upon their arrival they marched down the road, through the village, on their way to the fortress. They moved in total silence. Not a single word of command was heard. Yet they moved as one man. All that was heard was the sound of their boots as they marched through the village.
"Like the Magician they were all wearing black; only more so. Their uniforms, armor, helmets, shields, boots, and all their weapons; everything was black. Even their faces were covered by black hoods. Only their eyes showed and those eyes were also black ... and cold.
"The next thing to happen was the disappearance of three of the most attractive young women in the village. It was no secret that when the Magician had been staying in the village these young girls had, at one time or another, had more than a passing interest in him and by all accounts he'd given them the eye as well. So, a while after the old lord's death, one of the old household guard came to the village and went to the homes of these three girls.
"He'd told the girl's parents their daughters had been honored by an invitation to the fortress. No he couldn't tell the parents any more than that but their daughters were to come with him at once. While this was most unusual there was really little they could do other than comply.
"So the three girls were escorted by this guard as far as the gate where the black clad guards took over. They were never seen again.
"After their daughters had been gone over night the parents, who were naturally quite concerned, had gone to the fortress to inquire as to their children's where-bout's and well-being. One of the new lord's servants came to the gate and told these poor people their daughters were no longer any concern of theirs. They were also warned that if they had a healthy regard for their own well-being, and that of any other children they still had at home, they'd go back where they came from and keep their mouths shut from then on.
"That night those living closest to the fortress walls reported hearing hideous shrieks and screams coming from the top of the tower of the fortress keep. Those who heard these screams swore it sounded like one of the three girls. The night after that the same thing was reported but this time those who heard the screams said it had sounded like another of the missing three.
"Well enough was enough as far as we were concerned. The whole village marched on the fortress gate to demand the release of the girls. The answer, though not long in coming, was gruesome to behold.
"The fortress gates were opened and a formation of these black guards marched out and straight through those who were standing, packed close together, before the gates. Many were cut down by these silent but ruthlessly efficient butchers in black. Many more were trampled to death as the crowed broke and attempted to flee the slaughter.
"Those of us who were able ran for our homes, collected the rest of our women and children and what few possessions we could grab and carry, and we all ran for our lives; the Magician's black guards hot on our heels. Those who could not keep up, who fell behind, were captured and killed.
"Finally, after many hours, these blood soaked fiends from Tartarus gave up their pursuit and returned to the fortress. As for us, ... we've been hiding in this forest ever since that terrible day. Every once in a while a patrol of these black clad, black hearted, beasts comes up here but they do not venture too far inside the forest.
"And why should they. Deprived of all we own, without proper tools, we can't even build decent shelters for ourselves and our families. Without bows and arrows hunting has been next to impossible.
"So here we have been, suffering, starving, and being hunted like animals, for weeks now. If something doesn't happen to change this state of affairs, and quickly, there will be none of us left alive for the Magician and his black clad minions to be concerned about."
"As for the immediate needs of your people," Gander said, "think no more about it. These are things I can and will provide. If you had bows and arrows are their any among you who are sufficiently skilled to use them?"
"Yes," Akress said emphatically. "At least a dozen; myself included."
At this Gander raised an eyebrow.
This stirred the old Headman's ire.
"What think you, Wizard? That I was brought forth from my mother's womb even as you see me here and now? I was once young ... and a warrior.
"I've taken part in more than one, real, battle in my life. I've also drawn a bow on the most dangerous game of all; other men who were hunting me. Let me have a bow and some arrows and I swear I'll do two things very quickly. Feed my people and, afterwards, put a shaft in that evil Magician's chest; right up to the feathers."
Xena remained a bit skeptical at this last outburst.
"If what you say is so, Akress, how is it you didn't draw blood when you and your people were first attacked?"
"I was never famous as a warrior, Xena, but I know what you should know. War is for the young. Sooner or later you see enough of war. Then, if you are still alive and smart enough to do so, you decide to sell your arms and armor for the price of a plow and a bag of seed. If I'd still had my arms I might be dead now but so would a number of those black clad, two legged, butchering, beasts. That I swear!"
"You may well have the opportunity to back your words with action in the foreseeable future." Gander said. "But for now; first things first. If your son has not already convinced your people to do so then bring them here. When you return I will have the things you need prepared; including bows for you to draw and arrows to shoot."
It had taken a bit of doing but Akress was finally convinced Gander was both well meaning and capable of providing those things he'd promised. Gander walked with Akress as far as the edge of the forest and when Akress had gone to collect his people Gander went to work.
Gabrielle and Xena had watched the two men walk off toward the tree line and when Gander didn't return immediately they wondered why. They were about to investigate when they began to see flashes of light and heard strange, unrecognizable, noises emanating from the deep shade of the forest's edge.
It took him many hours to accomplish all the tasks he had set for himself but when he was done there were a couple dozen bows and an equal number of quivers filled with fine, straight, arrows. There was also a collection of tools; saws, axes, mauls, picks, shovels, hoes, bags of seed and even a couple of plows.
He had also arranged for what he humorously thought of as 'Wizard's gardens'. These were patches of ground, of substantial size, where he had brought about the appearance of a variety of wild vegetables and berry bushes.
These poor people were not going to starve and suffer any more. Not if he could help it; and he certainly could. Perhaps the land here was not so rich as that of the valley below but, with a little help and hard work, these people could survive here. All they had lacked were some proper tools and enough to eat until they could get their lives back in some kind of order.
He had seen to it they had the essentials to work with and he was prepared to do more as necessary. There were other things Gander could think of; things he was pretty sure these people would need in the future. Things like a decent supply of arms and the training required to use them. But this was something he intended to speak with Xena and Gabrielle about before saying anything to Akress. They would have to be willing to make a firm, personal, commitment to these people and any such decision would have to be theirs, and theirs alone, to make.
He was still sitting there, on the ground, thinking things over when Xena approached to investigate his lengthy absence from camp. The stacks of bows, arrows, tools, and sacks of seed, were yet another surprise from a man she had already found to be quite amazing.
"You made all these things in such a short time?" she asked.
"Oh. Hello Xena. Yes. These are the things I promised Akress I would provide for him and his people. Not a bad days work; even if I do say so myself ... and shouldn't."
Xena walked over to where the bows Gander had produced were stacked on the ground and picked one of them up. There was nothing particularly fancy about it. No carving or ornamentation. They were also shorter than any she had seen before. But she noticed the finish of the wood was very much like that of Gander's two staffs. Resting one end of the bow on the edge of the sole of her boot she bent and strung it. Just stringing the bow was more difficult than she had expected. In drawing it back she found its diminutive size belied its tremendous power.
Next she took one of the arrows from a quiver. Once again she saw evidence of the Wizard's excellent workmanship. The shaft couldn't have been any straighter. As for the arrow head; instead of being flint or bone it was metal. Triangular in shape its point and edges were extremely sharp.
Noticing her close examination of the arrow head Gander said, "Those worked out rather nicely I think. They are broad and heavy enough to take a deer down, quickly and humanely, and they are strong and sharp enough to penetrate just about any kind of armor. I've always preferred tools which are able to do more than one job with equal efficiency."
"Would you mind if I tried a shot?" she asked.
"Go right ahead," Gander said. "Arrows like those are not all that difficult for me to make."
"Don't worry," Xena said. "I'll aim for a place where it will be easy to find if I miss my mark." This last she had said with a confident grin on her face.
"Oh I'm not the least concerned about you missing your mark Xena. In fact, if replacing that arrow were a difficult proposition, I'd be far more concerned about you hitting what you aimed at."
"What do you mean, Gander,' she asked.
"You'll find out," he replied, "when you take your shot. In fact do you see that tree with the partially broken branch?" he asked while pointing at the tree in question.
Xena spotted the one Gander was talking about.
"Yes. I see it," she said.
"Fine," said Gander. "Why don't you aim for a point on its trunk, dead center, and about chest high."
Xena made no reply other than to fit the arrow to the bow. Then raising the weapon, while smoothly drawing back the string, she let fly. The arrow became nearly invisible so swift was its flight and it impacted the targeted tree, at just about the intended point, with a loud thunk.
Xena and Gander strolled leisurely over to the tree and when she saw what the arrow had done her mouth dropped open slightly. The shaft had been not quite two cubits long. All Xena had expected was to have the head of the arrow become partially embedded in the tree's trunk. The tree was more than half a cubit thick at the point where the arrow had struck and it had passed completely through the tree. The arrow head and a third of a cubit of the shaft were sticking out the other side.
Gander chuckled when he saw the expression on her face.
"I must remember to show this to Akress when he returns. Bows of this type do take a little getting used to. If you're after meat you really don't need to draw this kind of a bow all the way back. You would put the whole arrow completely through the animal you were aiming at. On the other hand, if your target is one of this Magician's black clad soldiers, a full draw of the bow would be just the thing."
Gander reached out and taking hold of the arrow, where it jutted out from the tree, snapped it off.
"I really wouldn't want anyone to accidentally stumble up against this thing," Gander said. "A body could get badly hurt that way."
Returning to where they had been Xena unstrung the bow and put it back on the pile with all the others.
"So are you done for the day?" Xena asked.
"Almost." Gander replied. "I just want to prepare some more food and a few, basic, medicines. There may be injured or ill among those Akress brings back with him and I need to be ready in case there are."
Xena said she'd leave him to his work and would see him back at camp.
It didn't take the Wizard all that long to do what little remained to be done. When he came back from the woods the first thing he did was to create another, larger, bed of burning coals. Then, in the same magical manner as before, there appeared an entire beef. It had been drained of its blood, skinned, and gutted. Impaled on a large iron spit it turned slowly, as it roasted, its juices causing little, sizzling, bursts of flame as they dripped onto the coals from the cooking meat.
It was late in the afternoon when Akress, accompanied by his boy and the surviving villagers, returned. Men, women, and children, young and old alike, they all moved slowly with a shambling gate. They were raged, dirty, and emaciated and a number were being carried on rough pallets.
Due to the longevity of Wizards and their mobility they quite often are witness to dramatic historical events. So Gander had seen this sort of thing before.
Xena too had been witness to human misery of this kind. As a warrior she had not only witnessed this kind of suffering she had, at times, helped to cause it; memories best kept locked away in a secret, dark, cubical in her mind.
In her travels with Xena Gabrielle had seen more than a little of the residual effects of human conflict. In fact she had first hand experience of what these wretched scarecrows had been put through. A number of years before her own village had been attacked. People she had known and loved from her earliest childhood had died in that attack; some quite horribly. As a result it was only second nature for her to go to work at once doing what she could to help care for the sick and wounded among these people; especially the children.
Gander too was kept busy for several hours treating the more seriously sick and injured. The first young man he treated had received a long, terrible, gash in his leg. This, Gander was told, was the result of a blow from the sword of one of the black clad soldiers. The wound had become badly infected and it was thought the young man didn't have much longer to live.
The manner of Gander's treatment quickly became the acid test of the amount of trust these people would have in him, and by extension, in Xena and Gabrielle. When Gander drew Glimmer from his staff those who were gathered about him and the young man were horrified.
"Must you take the boy's leg?" Akress asked.
Thankfully the young man was unconscious at the time or he might have been terrorized by the prospect of amputation.
"No," Gander all but growled. "If the gods finally smile on him, and it's in my power to prevent it, this youngster will not lose his leg or his life. This blade has the power to wound and take lives. But it also has the power to heal and save lives."
Having said this Gander positioned the tip of Glimmer's blade over the top of the dreadful wound. There appeared a small, brilliant, circle of light emanating from the point of Glimmer's blade.
Without actually touching the wound with the blade itself Gander slowly, carefully, drew the glowing circle of light down the length of the hideous gash. Where the flesh had been an ugly bluish black it was transformed to a far more healthy color though it remained red and somewhat inflamed.
Akress and the others who had watched this process had expected the youngster, though unconscious, to writhe in agony. When the opposite occurred and the lad drifted into a peaceful slumber the villagers had been dumfounded.
Once the wound had been cleaned in this manner Gander had applied a sweet smelling, soothing, salve. Then he had made a large pad of clean cloth. This he took over to the large fire ring where he held it over the glowing embers until it had just begun to turn brown and char. By the time he had brought it back to where the young man was laying it had become cool again and Gander placed it, charred side down, over the wound. Leaving the bandaging to the young man's mother and sister he had gone on to another of the wounded.
Both Xena and Gabrielle had watched the Wizard's ministrations very carefully. If this was magic then it was magic they intended to learn as much as they could about.
It took them the rest of the day to deal with the sick and wounded. While Gander, Xena, and Gabrielle were occupied doing this a large number of the village men busied themselves, with the tools Gander had supplied, building rough shelters. Gander had told the village women about the garden plots and they had gone to work gathering vegetables and herbs for soup with which to feed those too ill to eat anything else.
The villagers had pretty much stripped the carcass of the beef clean but two of the men, using a couple of Gander's bows, had been able to take a deer. It was now hung up, drained of its blood, eviscerated, skinned and ready to be put on the spit.
A number of other, younger, men had been given bows and quivers of arrows. They had also been provided with skin containers of fresh water from the brook, bread, and a good supply of sliced meat. These were sent to find concealed positions, about a half a league or so further down the road. There they would keep watch and ambush any new patrols of the Magician's soldiers. The next time his troops came to harass them they would be in for a very nasty surprise. The hunted could now become the hunters and tonight their people would be able to sleep soundly. Tonight they would have some peace.