from a torch rounded one of the shacks, and I immediately looked up in alarm. Night watchmen, it had to be, though I had no idea how a place this pathetic had scrounged up enough volunteers to keep an eye on the midnight hour.
"Ho there!" a thin voice called out, and it took me a moment to realize that it was female. "State your name and business in Warsil!"
Oh, Warsil , I thought. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. I allowed my broken-down old horse to close in a bit with the citizens before identifying myself. There was always the possibility that they would shoot me down with a crossbow or something, but that's what magic is for, after all.
It was during this time that I heard another voice mutter, much more quietly, "Better hope he's no sorcerer, or we'll hang him like the last one."
The words died in my throat even as I opened my mouth to speak. Superstitious folk in a tiny town on the edge of nowhere… the total earnest lack of irony left a foul taste in my mouth. Surely everyone knew that a sorcerer was no one to be trifled with, and certainly not one to be hanged like some common criminal.
"Identify yourself, stranger, or this will be the end of you," the feminine voice warned.
My brain whirled, searching for an answer. Was a flat-out lie the best option? Did I instead try to misdirect, throwing them off my scent until I could reveal the true extent of my power?
I licked my lips, which immediately chapped in the wind. Was it my imagination, or could I actually hear that woman's hand trembling on the trigger of a crossbow? Desperately, I spat out words, hoping that they would make some kind of sense.
"My name is… D'Arden Tal!" I shouted. "I'm an Arbiter! Don't shoot… for Arangoth's sake, don't shoot! "
II
"You don't look much like an Arbiter," the reedy woman observed.
"And just how many Arbiters have you met in your lifetime?" I sniffed disdainfully.
"Well…" that seemed to give her pause.
"Where's yer crystal sword, Arbiter ?" sneered one of the others, a flat-nosed man who was missing most of his teeth.
"Not all of us carry a sword," I lied. "Some of us have… other talents."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
I lifted one hand and spoke a single word under my breath. Blue flame – the exact shade I remembered shining in the Arbiter's eyes – flashed out from my finger and streaked toward the peasant's ugly face. He stumbled backward with a cry just as it exploded silently before his eyes, leaving him shaken, but unharmed.
The rest of them were staring at me in shock. Before they could raise the cry of " sorcery!" and sic their pitchforks upon me, I made up something that sounded good. "Those who question the Arbiters often harbor corruption within their own hearts," I said, fixing the man with what I hoped was a sufficiently chilly glare.
That got them. Suddenly their demeanor changed, and instead of being cautiously distant, they began cheering as though I were some sort of champion.
"It's really true!" the thin woman said, her face alight with sudden hope. I felt my heart sinking as I stared at her. "An Arbiter has come to liberate us!"
"Liberate?" I asked, but they didn't hear me over the sound of their cheering. Though it was the dead of night, I could hear doors opening all around us.
"What's going on?" called a sleepy voice.
"It's an Arbiter!" the watchmen called back.
Soon the entire village was awake and had taken up the cry. My blood turned to ice as I listened to the genuine joy that suffused the cold night. Adults, elders, children… all of them whooped and hollered into the night in some kind of horrendous concerto.
Edar, you nattering nitwit , I cursed myself silently. What have you gotten yourself into now?
"Please, Arbiter, forgive our suspicion," the reedy woman, who'd been the first one to say a single word to me, gushed. "We here in Warsil have lived with a terrible problem for many years, and for so long we have wished for one of your order to come and free us
"Ho there!" a thin voice called out, and it took me a moment to realize that it was female. "State your name and business in Warsil!"
Oh, Warsil , I thought. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. I allowed my broken-down old horse to close in a bit with the citizens before identifying myself. There was always the possibility that they would shoot me down with a crossbow or something, but that's what magic is for, after all.
It was during this time that I heard another voice mutter, much more quietly, "Better hope he's no sorcerer, or we'll hang him like the last one."
The words died in my throat even as I opened my mouth to speak. Superstitious folk in a tiny town on the edge of nowhere… the total earnest lack of irony left a foul taste in my mouth. Surely everyone knew that a sorcerer was no one to be trifled with, and certainly not one to be hanged like some common criminal.
"Identify yourself, stranger, or this will be the end of you," the feminine voice warned.
My brain whirled, searching for an answer. Was a flat-out lie the best option? Did I instead try to misdirect, throwing them off my scent until I could reveal the true extent of my power?
I licked my lips, which immediately chapped in the wind. Was it my imagination, or could I actually hear that woman's hand trembling on the trigger of a crossbow? Desperately, I spat out words, hoping that they would make some kind of sense.
"My name is… D'Arden Tal!" I shouted. "I'm an Arbiter! Don't shoot… for Arangoth's sake, don't shoot! "
II
"You don't look much like an Arbiter," the reedy woman observed.
"And just how many Arbiters have you met in your lifetime?" I sniffed disdainfully.
"Well…" that seemed to give her pause.
"Where's yer crystal sword, Arbiter ?" sneered one of the others, a flat-nosed man who was missing most of his teeth.
"Not all of us carry a sword," I lied. "Some of us have… other talents."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
I lifted one hand and spoke a single word under my breath. Blue flame – the exact shade I remembered shining in the Arbiter's eyes – flashed out from my finger and streaked toward the peasant's ugly face. He stumbled backward with a cry just as it exploded silently before his eyes, leaving him shaken, but unharmed.
The rest of them were staring at me in shock. Before they could raise the cry of " sorcery!" and sic their pitchforks upon me, I made up something that sounded good. "Those who question the Arbiters often harbor corruption within their own hearts," I said, fixing the man with what I hoped was a sufficiently chilly glare.
That got them. Suddenly their demeanor changed, and instead of being cautiously distant, they began cheering as though I were some sort of champion.
"It's really true!" the thin woman said, her face alight with sudden hope. I felt my heart sinking as I stared at her. "An Arbiter has come to liberate us!"
"Liberate?" I asked, but they didn't hear me over the sound of their cheering. Though it was the dead of night, I could hear doors opening all around us.
"What's going on?" called a sleepy voice.
"It's an Arbiter!" the watchmen called back.
Soon the entire village was awake and had taken up the cry. My blood turned to ice as I listened to the genuine joy that suffused the cold night. Adults, elders, children… all of them whooped and hollered into the night in some kind of horrendous concerto.
Edar, you nattering nitwit , I cursed myself silently. What have you gotten yourself into now?
"Please, Arbiter, forgive our suspicion," the reedy woman, who'd been the first one to say a single word to me, gushed. "We here in Warsil have lived with a terrible problem for many years, and for so long we have wished for one of your order to come and free us
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