It's almost nightfall when the group, still carrying their prisoners, dead, and wounded, reach their immediate destination, the village of Haven. While Duplar, Reylorna, Ryzar and Dharak had visited the settlement on their outward journey, it's new to Hank and Roy
At first, all that can be seen is some rising curls of smoke, their source hidden by trees. Then they emerge into a large artificial clearing, see the solid wooden stockade surrounding what looks to be a substantial settlement; perhaps big enough for several hundred inhabitants. From what they can see, it seems mostly constructed of timber, with thatched roofs on some buildings. Beside the gate through the stockade stands a tall wooden watchtower, two men standing at the very top.
The two men see the party approach, and give some sort of hand signal to those inside the stockade. Half a dozen men, armed with swords and shields, leave the village, approaching the party in a manner that's neither friendly nor hostile.
"Halt!", says their leader, "Identify yourselves!"
Outwardly, Hank just helps to carry his 'charge', as he has been, and doesn't say a word.
Silently, he takes a "professional" look at the village, given what he can see, and applies his experience as a Peace Corps field volunteer- getting a general idea of what the "level" of the inhabitants might be. The first impression is that the place is quite primitive, far more so than a culture that could construct aircraft might suggest. Indeed, the all-timber construction, with defenses made up from rammed earth and timber suggests a culture not much above iron age, let alone medieval. There are clues, though, in their construction techniques, clothing and the weaponry carried, to suggest that they're not quite as primitive as they look; and their main problem is lack of resources rather than lack of knowledge. The cleared and cultivated area around the village doesn't seem to be big enough to support the likely population, unless their agricultural practices are better than they look. Hank certainly doesn't recognise whatever crop is growing in the nearest plots.
Meanwhile Ryzar turns to look at Dharak.
"You spoke best with these folk when last we were here, my friend." Ryzar says quietly to Dharak, "You and Jal." the young man adds in a somber tone.
"T'would be better, I think, if you were to speak for us, and ask shelter of these fine folks".
At the mention of Jal's name, Dharak offers Ryzar a pained look. He reaches for Ryzar's shoulder and grips it firmly for a second, then turns to address the armed men.
"Brothers", he begins, his voice heavy with loss, "Good men of Haven, we are the companions of Jathren, set out from here three days ago. We have completed the task set for us, answered many questions, and discovered new mysteries that beggar the imagination -- all of this at terrible cost. We must speak with Jathren, and with your elders, immediately. And I ask that you help us confine our prisoners, tend to our wounded, and bury our dead".
Before the villager can respond, a figure familar to everyone other than Hank and Roy comes limping out of the gate. A fellow of average height with mouse brown hair, the sort that could disappear into a crowd of more than about four people. He's presently wrapped in a wollen cloak in a similar style of that of the villagers. It's Jathren.
"You have returned", he says.
"With dead and wounded", replies the leader of the village defenders, "What mission of death did you send them on?".
"To rid this area of the evil that has been plaguing us", Jathren replies to him, "I've explained this to the elders more than once!".
He turns to face Dharak again. "I am sorry that more people have died. Are these five your prisoners? He indicates not just the human, the kandar and the quaan, but also Hank and Roy.
"These three", Dharak gestures at the bound human, Kandar, and Quaan. "Were among the forces arrayed against us in the tunnel at the end of the line of towers. The Kandar is Karmorki. The others are from... elsewhere. They were armed thus." He draws aside his cloak to show Jathren the energy weapon he's been using, then quickly covers it.
"Banned devices", Jathren says with a frown, "Such items cannot be permitted in the wrong hands, "It will have to be surrendered to the guild on our return. I should very much like to know from what source they were obtained. It looks too new to have been part of some ancient hoard; neither is it in the style of the ancients".
Roy listens intently for Dharak's answer regarding he and Hank. His right hand doesn't quite drift over to his new beam weapon, but it's a near thing.
"Nay", Ryzar pipes up, as he gently settles the burden of Jaldaric's body down on the ground, "The two who carry Kylar, they be Gate Travellers, like me. Come to these lands from fabled Knighted Statesov Merika. Although, unlike me..."
Ryzar looks over at Hank and Roy, and gives them a sad little smile, "...I do not think that they yet realize that they are lost, and shall never return home".
Hank, who suspects this to be the case, casts his eyes at the ground, but Roy, looking back to Ryzar, says, "Oh, we'll get home. Don't you worry about that."
This, however, makes Hank grin, partly in joyful relief, partly in a 'guy's got moxie' kind of way.
"These two brothers," Dharak continues, waving at Hank and Roy, "have served as reinforcements. As you suspected, this Karmorki cabal was operating a functioning Mirror. Before we were able to disable it -- well, at least damage it -- these two were brought through into this world from our ancestral homeland. They have shown great courage and initiative in fighting by our side. Without them, I doubt we would have survived our return journey".
"The ancestral homeland?", Jathren asks, "I has always believed such a place to be a myth, a legend cooked up by one of the cults. Those people that believe we should return there by constructing new mirrors? Yet we know that mirrors exist, and they lead... somewhere".
By this time Duplar has crossed over to Jathren.
"Glad to see you up and about Boss! As you can see, we've taken a beating here, but as Dharak says there was working equipment of the ancients up in that tunnel. We have to secure it. We also need to secure a crashed flying power wagon."
"They have a sky-chariot?", he says, "That is not good news. Let us hope they only had the one, else this village might be in danger from them"
Duplar then drops his voice, trying not to be heard by Hank and Roy. "We also need the friendship of these new arrivals. They did not find that equipment strange, and they had seen something like the flying thing before. Even if they are not of the guild of their land, they know of much we do not!".
"In which case there is little time to waste", Jathren replies, "I believe I am now well enough to travel. We should set out for the city at first light tomorrow. The sooner we return to Calbeyn with this information, the sooner a substantial force can set out to secure the area. If Kylar is not fit enough to travel, we can leave him in the care of the village healer, just as you left me. She'll have in on his feet in no time at all; he wouldn't dare not to. Wounds are scared of her.
"Could you show us the healer?", Hanks asks, "I was taught 'don't leave a patient until they reach qualified help'. We've carried Kylar this far, a bit further won't matter...".
Jathren turns to a couple of the locals. "Take these people to Vina", she says.
He turns to the assembled company. "Let's all get inside the village, rather than stand here in the open. The group head inside, with Kylar's stretcher-bearers in the lead.
Reylorna had remained quiet letting them express themselves and decide what is going to happen. But while they walk through the gates, she offers to Jathren in a very meek and quiet voice which raises with emotion as she continues.
"We did damage the stuff, so either they will try and fix it, or they will move it", she says, "I doubt they will abandon it. They seemed to be using it for their own travel. It was really amazing to watch it working. I am concerned that we may take too long to get back but if we don't we won't have the strength if they have a force".
"The Karazthan can muster a sizable force when needed", Jathren replies, "We can pull enough favours with the Legion to be able to call upon a sufficiently large military force of our own; since you speak of tunnels, they have soldiers with experience of underground fighting gained from the mountain war with the zughru. My fear is that in the time it will take to assemble a force and march to the sight, they may have sufficient time to remove themselves to another place".
Inside the village, Hank notes the construction of the buildings; mostly of timber, in a hotchpotch of styles, some very crude, others much more sophisticated. One large building in the centre of the village is made of stone.
Vina, the healer, turns out to be a tall human woman, still good-looking despite her late middle age, her dark hair flecked with grey. She's dressed in similar simple homespun clothing as much of the rest of the villages.
"Another wounded warrior to be patched up?", she says, "Let's take a look at him".
Kylar opens his eyes and looks up at her.
"Aha, he's awake", she says, "That's usually a good sign. What aid have you given him so far?".
Thanking Roy for his help, Hank sets Kylar doen carefully on the most-comfortable surface he can see.
"What little I could- cleaning his wound, re-dressing it with fresh bandages, and carrying him in a good position. I don't know Kandar medicine, and so didn't risk using medicines that might help a Human, but hurt him."
"Kandar are very similar to ourselves", she replies, "Sometimes a little more delicate; sometimes a smaller amount of a medication is appropriate; but I have seen few things that heal humans but actually harm Kandar. Just a few treatments that do not work as well".
The healer peers at the dressings. "Where did you obtain these bandages?"
"Those particular ones? At a C.V.S., near Saginaw." Hank clears his throat. Last time he said it, it was Big Deal, so he's almost shy about it. "...Michigan. In the United States of America, on Earth..."
She looks puzzled. "Merica? I haven't heard of that nation, but I know little of the those lands further away. Is it another name for the free nations of the north, or somewhere else?".
"Somewhere else." Seeing that she sailed right past the mention of "Earth", Hank wisely moves on.
He tries to get back on-topic. "...So, do you like them? I can show you some other supplies I brought...".
"They looks like those of the Karazthan in the city", she says holding an unopened dressing up to the light, "But somehow not like them. Does this wrapper keep them clean?".
"Yes, exactly", Hank nods. "I have some things to ask, later, about that sort of thing- If that would be alright with you?".
"You can ask me as I change the dressing", she says, as she removes the dressing and examines Kylar's wounds. She removes the stopper from a large earthenware jar, and pours some foul-smelling ointment onto the wounds. Kylar grimaces with pain.
"Yes, I know it stings, but it's for your own good", she tells him.
"What is it", Hank asks.
"This salve prevents it from going bad, and speeds healing. The temples of the healing Guardian of the Kandar make the stuff; I've still got contacts there who can get it for me. The salves I can make up myself from herbs aren't nearly as good, sadly. We free humans lack the resources of knowledge they have in the cities".
"I see." Hank makes a mental note of this- this is the sort of thing he trained for, providing basic services to areas denied them.
Vina takes one of Hank's bandages, and rebinds the wound. "He'll live", she says.
"That's an encouragement", says Kylar.
"Does it still hurt", she asks, laying her hands over the now bandaged wound.
"Not as much"
"Good. You'll have to rest up for a few days".
Hank talks to the healer as she continues to examine the wounded soldier's general condition. Her references to the healing temples of the city suggest that she's not at the cutting edge of this society's medical knowledge; she works mainly from intuition rather than formal training, with bits and pieces of knowledge picked up from various sources. The idea that wounds must be kept clean suggest that there is at least some awareness of the germ theory of disease, even if it's not fully understood. As for that healing salve, Hank suspects that it may contain an antibiotic of some sort.
* * *
Now that the villagers are letting the group into their settlement, Ryzar carefully puts Jal's body down, out of the way of all the comings-and-goings, and walks over to Dharak.
"Friend Dharak, I must ask a boon of you." Ryzar asks quietly, "Jaldaric was my oldest friend, here in these lands..." Ryzar gestures towards the death-still body, "...and I would do the correct death services for him, but I do not know the ways of the folk, hereabouts. Could you...tell me...?"
Ryzar mumbles to a stop, with an expectant look on his youthful face.
Dharak has never encountered two human societies with exactly the same death rites. He's even seen humans in the cities dispatched with kandar rites, in which a priest of one of the Guardians, usually Ulseth, uses some technological device to scan the brain of the deceased and pass it on the Guardians.
Free human communities such as this one tend to practice less formal rites, in which they celebrate the life of the deceased, and send his spirit to the next life. Those known as 'Relivers' believe that 'good' humans will be reincarnated either as kandar or as vordral depending on their behaviour in this life. Other cults believe in various Heavens and Hells. Unfortunately in the short time Dharak had known Jaldaric, Jal had never spoken of religion.
Dharak and Ryzar realise a third person has joined them, a shortish man of indeterminate middle age, brown hair and beard now showing flecks of grey. He looks down at Jal's body.
"A fallen warrior?", he says, "Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. My name is Hulfe, I am the spiritual leader of this small community".
Ryzar looks towards Hulfe, and his dark eyebrows shoot upwards in amazement.
"But...but you are a MAN!", Ryzar exclaims in a shocked and surprised tone -- then quickly shuts his mouth, and places his gloved hand over his lips, as his pale cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Please forgive my friend here, brother Hulfe," Dharak blurts as soon as the word "Man" leaves Ryzar's mouth. "As is obvious from his speech and dress, he is from a distant settlement of our people, and is not used to our ways".
"Yes, please forgive me." Ryzar apologises, bobbing his head in supplication, "It's just that, in Estcarp -- where I'm from -- it is Women who hold the positions of Holy Ones and spiritual Leaders. I was simply....surprised, that's all".
"I accept your apologies, brother", Hulfe replies softly, "Estcarp is not settlement I know of, but I have known more than one community where all the holy people are women".
"As for our fallen brother", Dharak continues, "I regret that I did not know him long enough to learn what the proper rites and rituals are in his community. From what I do know of him, I can state unequivocally that he would be honoured to take his final rest here, among free people and true".
"Tell me, what are your ways regarding the honoured dead?".
"We do not have a lot of formal rituals", Hulfe replies, "We bury the body in the field of freedom, and commend his spirit to join the One True God, accompanied by the deceased closest friends and family. Everyone present must say a few words saying what the deceased mean to them. After that, there is a celebration in his honour, to which everyone in the village who can attend is invited".
* * * *
Hank thinks of something else to ask the healer.
"I owe my travelling companion a 'round', for carrying Kylar", he says, indicating Roy, "Is there a tavern of some kind, around here? I suppose I'll need to trade something for money, too- unless they take credit..." He grins.
Her face also spreads into a grin.
"We don't really have a tavern, not like in a city", she says, "Since we're not on a road that leads to anywhere but here, we have few visitors. There is the hall, the stone building you must have noticed when you came in. It's the only place in the village that's not a someone's house. It's our temple, tavern and everything else all rolled into one!".
"I guess I'll need money - I have some things I could trade, I suppose... is there anything you need?"
"What sort of things do you have for trade?", she asks, "I think your healing things, such as those city made bandages, are items of much value; they are probably worth much more that one of two drinks, I would say. I would not want to be thought of as cheating you! Anyway, it is our responsibility to provide hospitality to visitors".
Having done this, he then tries to get his fellow American's attention. "Hey, Roy - get you a round? We can 'talk shop', later".
* * * *
"Yes. Yes, I think that Jal would like that", Ryzar says, "How soon can it be arranged?"
"Tonight", the holy man says, "As soon as we can dig a grave in which to bury him".
"And, what will it cost, this honour celebration, after the burial?", Ryzar asks, "I wish to make right by Jaldaric, but I have little money. Since I arrived in this world, I've been following along with Mistress Reylorna, Jaldaric, and Legionnaire Kylar, and they have been handling day-to-day things. Now Jal is dead, and Kylar is injured and likely to be leaving. Without Mistress Reylorna, I shall be completely lost, here".
"Don't worry about that", comes the reply, "Jathren, your leader, has promised us many things provided we help him. He is a man of influence, and a man who keeps his word".
Hank grins at this. "Well, I wouldn't want to break tradition", he says, indicating 'lead on' to Vina and Roy, "I'll bring my pack, we can talk business later".
Roy tears his gaze away from the surroundings and nods at Hank. "Sure. Wonder what they drink around this place, anyway?".
"Many things", Vina says, "We make a lot of beverages here, which we sell to traders who take it on to the Kandar cities. I'm told that our honey beer reaches Vohrleyn, where it fetches vast prices!"
Hank turns to Kylar before he leaves. "Good luck- I'll check up on you, later. Rest, now".
"I swear I'm feeling better already", Kylar says, "I'll be up and about soon".
"Oh no you won't", Vina tells him sternly, "You'll lie down and rest like he said, until I tell you to get up. I can tell that you're going to be as impatient as Jathren was".
* * * *
The village hall *does* rather resemble a tavern. Several wooden barrels of something stand on a low wooden table, along with a number of large earthenware jars. About a dozen villagers, mostly men but also one or two women are drinking from large metal tankards. A bulky man with a reddish face, and long sandy hair stands by the barrels.
"Efsik, we have some visitors", Vina says to him.
"So, you wish to sample some of my handiwork", Efsik says, turning to Hank and Roy.
"Yes, please!", says Hank, "We've travelled, from... a long way away, and could _use_ a drink..."
Roy nods again and says, "Whatever you've got that's cold would be great. We've heard the honey beer's good". Then his face falls. "Ummm...what's the exchange rate on American money around here?".
"Merican?", says Efsik, "A far off land, of strange coin. But you are our guests, and Vina should have told you. Two honey beers it is".
Hank looks around, to take in the scene, but also to 'read the room'- Hank is dressed rather differently than the locals, yet the most of locals seem to be taking this well in stride.
Ryzar walks up and pulls off his bullet-shaped leather helmet with the black horse-tail top -- for the first time since Hank & Roy have met him -- revealing his own hair to be equally raven-coloured.
"Indeed, a mug of your finest would be quite welcome, just now." Ryzar says, joining Hank and Roy, removing his heavy leather gauntlets and tossing them inside his overturned helmet, then looking for a place to sit. There's plenty of space on the wooden benches, and Ryzar realises how long he's been on his feet.
"That will be three, then", Efsik says, as he draws the first beer from the barrel.
Hank offers him room, and waves to say 'here!'.
"We have a LOT to talk about..."
The lanky Borderer smiles and settles himself into the indicated seat -- adjusting the weapons at his belt as he does so; the broad-bladed shortsword, and the leather holster which holds his dartgun.
"Aye. I suppose that we might." Ryzar responds cheerfully, "Please, Friend Hank, ask away!"
"Well... and, Roy, please jump in any time..."
"I have lots of questions about this place, but first- were we supposed to be brought here, or was it an accident?"
"Do you mean here, to this village?" Ryzar smiles, "No, I suppose you mean to this world. Well, that I cannot say. You were brought here by the foul machines of the Kolder. Perhaps they had targeted you specifically, perhaps not. Only the Kolder know."
"And these Kolder", Hanks says, "I keep hearing that word, and 'kolderspawn'... who are they? Where are they? What would they want with us?".
"The Kolder machine which brought you here was destroyed -- or at least, I tried....uh, that is....if not destroyed, it was badly damaged. Maybe they have another. Or perhaps there are other gates that could do the job. Master Duplar has mentioned several times that his people, the Kandar, were masters of such devices in ancient times."
"What do we do, now?", Hank asks.
"Live well. Make friends. Enjoy life", Ryzar smiles again, "For myself, I have chosen to continue to do here, what I did back in Estcarp. I am a Borderer, a Defender of Estcarp. I serve the will of the Witches Council. Here I have made my services available to the Witch Reylorna. She and Master Duplar serve the Karthani...uh, Karazanni...um, they serve an Artificers Guild".
"Back in Estcarp?" Roy asks. "So, did you come here the same way as us?"
"Jathen's people", Efsik says, returning with three metal tankards filled with foaming liquid, which he hands to Roy, Hank and Ryzar. He hands Vina a smaller vessel filled with something different.
"I see. I 'm an Engineer by profession", Hank says, "For the United States Peace Corps, until recently".
As an aside, he says to Vina, "I'm only trained as a paramedic. For emergencies". She nods.
"How about you, Roy? Where were you? I was hiking the Appalachians, before the 'Whoosh!' noise".
"I was sleeping out on the trail", Roy replies. A worried look breifly crosses his
face. "Hope somebody from the ranch finds my horse."
"Are we free, or in custody?", asks Hank.
"Who's custody would you be in?" Ryzar frowns, "You are as free as any other Human in this world -- though that appears to vary. I've been told that most Kandar treat Humans rather poorly, and it is the Kandar who rule this world".
"So... where would you say we should go?", Hank asks, "We can't go home, and you and your friends are the only ones we know here".
Hank carefully takes beam weapon from his pocket, in a way that clearly isn't "drawing".
"Do you want this back?"
Roy casually does not offer "his" weapon back.
"Mistress Reylorna or Master Duplar may be interested. I will stick with my dartgun." Ryzar pats the leather fold-over holster on his belt, "At least until I run out of ammunition for it".
At those words, the three are joined by Dharak, Duplar and Reylorna, accompanied by Jathren and Hulfe.
"I'm not the right person to speak for sure on this, Ryzar", says Duplar, "but if I understood the tail end of your comment correctly, might I suggest you keep your last two darts back so one of our experts can examine them and see if we can make more of them?"
"Thank you, Master Duplar." Ryzar replies, "I had intended to mention my need to Mistress Reylorna, when we returned to your city. I would be very greatful if your artisans could create a supply of darts for my pistol".
"Apprentice Reylorna is of the Academy: this would be a Guild matter", Duplar says, "As I said, I do not know if we can. You may recall the workshop is in a bit of a mess since the monster appeared in the lift shaft. However, I'm sure I can think of at least one person who would like to try".