The True Oracle Ch. 01

He smoothed her hair, holding her close. "Are you wounded?"

She remained shuddering for a few moments before pulling back. "I . . . I don't know," she said, then drew back the cloak to look upon her body. A group of puncture wounds was conspicuous on her upper thigh, where the rift troll had gripped her. She hissed at the sight.

"Oh, Gods," she whimpered. "They're infectious, aren't they? The rift trolls?"

Gavin nodded. He was already reaching for the uppermost pouch on his armor. "Yes. Under normal circumstances, you would begin degenerating into a rift troll yourself in half a day. Usually, I would either slit your throat or push you over the side, depending on how I felt for you."

His words brought a fervor of alarm to Adastriana's face.

He extracted the white handkerchief, and, for the first time since they had met, gave the zantrist woman the barest of smiles. "But I won't." He unfolded the piece of imbued silk and settled it over Adastriana's wound. She caught her breath and tensed as the aura-touched fabric began to do its work.

"It hurts," she muttered.

"Better this than the alternative," Gavin said, watching as the cloth turned pinkish as it soaked up the blood. But then, after a few moments, the blood seemed to dissipate, and the cloth was once more stark white. He took it away, revealing nothing but unmarred skin.

"Interesting," he commented, mostly to himself, and folded the handkerchief before tucking it away.

"Where did you get that?" Adastriana asked in amazement.

"It was a gift. It supposedly heals any wound, no matter how grievous," Gavin replied, standing. He offered a hand and helped the woman to her feet. His eyes traveled down the bridge to the other side. "We had best continue on. There may be more rift trolls about, but it will take them time to garner enough courage to attack again."

Adastriana stared at the man before her. "Yesterday you would likely have let me fall into the chasm and continue on as if I was nothing to you," she said pointedly. "But today you act as if it is your duty to protect me. What did I say to you last night? What was your divination?"

Gavin studied her eyes a moment, tempted to reveal what he had been told. It was suddenly clear that, at least for the sake of the divination she had performed the earlier evening, she truly was not privy to her own words. But Gavin remained stoic.

"Perhaps we'll discuss it later," he said. "For now, let us continue on."

The zantrist began to protest, but realized it would be futile to challenge the grim knight. With an exasperated huff, she took up the reins of her horse and followed close as Gavin led the way across the chasm.

* * * *

The rest of the crossing across the Rift met with no further complications, for which both Gavin and Adastriana were thankful. Upon reaching the far end, they directed the horses into yet another creaking, aged elevator and rode to the surface.

A light dust storm greeted them, casting up pale yellow dust that made visibility beyond perhaps thirty feet or so difficult. Gavin narrowed his eyes against the caustic uplift, and with a motion to Adastriana to remain close, led his mount out into the wastelands once more.

Only a handful of steps from the shelter of the elevator building, Gavin stopped as he noticed an obscured form standing upon the plain before them. There was a familiar look to the man; he stood casually alert, clad in the same bronzed leather armor which Gavin himself wore. A horse laden for travel stood patiently nearby. Propped against the skeletal remains of a long-dead tree was a large rifle. Even through the swirling clouds of dust, Gavin could tell it's make. He owned one just like it.

"Stay here," Gavin ordered Adastriana, without looking to her. Leaving his steed behind, he stepped forward, stopping when the man's pale blonde hair and features were visible.

"Hail, fellow knight," the man called as he made the Circle of Life motion across his chest and gave a quick bow. "I am Knight-Gunman Corvo, of Neustis. The Oracle was concerned you may need assistance to arrive in time, so I was dispatched to meet you."

Gavin narrowed his gaze even more, this time with suspicion. "That is not usual protocol," he said.

Corvo approached with a chuckling smile. "No, it is not," he agreed. "And I informed Her Greatness of that. A knight's quest is a sacred duty. But the Oracle insisted, and as we are all honor-bound to obey Her wishes . . . well, here I am."

Gavin relaxed somewhat. "I suppose I can understand that," he said. "Another gun cannot hurt, after all."

The man strode closer and extended a hand. "I have also been instructed to take possession of the book you carry," he said.

Suspicion returned to Gavin. He regarded the man before him warily. "It is my charge. I am not to give it up."

Corvo nodded with an apologetic look. "I know. Under any other circumstance, I would not dare to ask you to break the knight's code. But I have been specifically instructed to do so."

"By the True Oracle?" Gavin asked.

"Yes. By the True Oracle."

Gavin fell silent. This was not the first time the protocol of the knight's code had been breached during his years of service. It was a rare thing, but not unheard of. Still, Gavin could not allow himself to give in so readily.

"Gavin."

Adastriana's voice drifted to him from behind, faint so as not to be overheard by the other man. Gavin turned his head only just, so that he could still see the other knight peripherally. "Yes."

"He is not to be trusted," the zantrist continued. "Do not ask me how I know this, but I do. He has other intentions."

"Is this a divination?" Gavin asked.

"A feeling."

A feeling, Gavin thought warily. From a zantrist. He addressed Corvo, taking a few steps toward the man. He noticed that his fellow knight-gunman was already standing balanced and ready, as if expecting a fight.

"I cannot let you have the book, Corvo," he said. "Under the circumstances, I would suggest you return to Neustis on your own."

A malevolent smile crossed the other man's face. "Then we have arrived at an impasse. I am to have that book, or die trying. That is my quest."

The two men stared at one another as the dusty wind swirled between them. Adastriana watched fearfully, not knowing what was to happen. She wondered why, now that Corvo had made it plain that he was to take whatever book he and Gavin were discussing, by any means necessary, Gavin did not simply shoot the man. After all, Corvo appeared to be unarmed. His rifle lay conspicuously out of reach.

Gavin settled his hand upon the butt of the pistol at his waist. "If you were of the mind, you could have taken me down from a distance with your rifle," he said.

Corvo nodded. "We may be at odds, but you are a fellow knight and I would not do that. I had hoped I could parlay for the book, but it seems my skills at diplomacy are lacking. So that leaves us with a situation. You could now claim my life before I have a chance to reach you. But that would be doing me a disservice. You are a knight as I am. We follow a code."

Gavin nodded grimly and drew the pistol from his belt. "That we do," he said carefully. He regarded the weapon as Corvo waited, teeth gritted.

"Prepare yourself," Gavin said to the man, and tossed the pistol aside.

As the weapon fell heavily to the dirt, the two men burst into action. Both quiet and grim-faced, Gavin and Corvo charged, meeting one another with flurries of blows. Hands and feet swung and kicked, countered by the practiced moves. The air around them was filled with the sounds of impacts against armored arms and legs, the occasional blow to the torso.

The two combatants seemed evenly matched. But as Corvo jumped back after Gavin's strike found its way to his midriff, the enemy knight pivoted with a kick aimed for Gavin's head. But the kick was a feint, and as Gavin ducked, Corvo spun and lashed out with his other foot, catching Gavin in the chest.

Gavin grunted as he fell back, landing hard upon the ground, breath expelled from his lungs. Dazed for a moment, he nevertheless had enough wits to anticipate his opponent's leap. He rolled to the side just as Corvo landed heavily where he had been, heavy booted foot crashing into the ground where Gavin's head should have been.

Gavin rolled back, striking deftly into Corvo's side with his left hand, then following with a sweep of his right arm. Grunting with pain, the man fell back, giving Gavin the opportunity to jump to his feet. Both men came up at the same time, facing each other with hands raised. Blades sprang from their wrists. The combat entered the next stage.

Their strikes were more furious, more swift now. Blades sang as they slashed across armor they could not penetrate. More impacts sounded as the two men blocked strikes. Adastriana could not follow the movements with her eyes. She was watching something that, to her, seemed supernatural. No one should have been able to move as quickly and deftly as these two men. She shuddered with anxiety, wanting the fight to end, and for Gavin to emerge the victor.

But then Corvo became totally defensive, not trying to strike as he fended off Gavin's furious strikes. The man back-stepped, blocking blow after blow, letting Gavin advance. But then suddenly, he caught his opponent just right, and as Gavin over-extended with a vicious swipe toward his neck, Corvo reared back, spun about, and slashed.

Adastriana's voice pierced through the howling winds. "No!"

Gavin stumbled, falling to the side, reflexively clutching his neck. The warmth of his own blood flooded down to his shoulders, across his jaw. He fell to his left knee, feeling his strength ebb. Turned from Corvo, he lifted his eyes and found Adastriana, offering a silent apology.

But . . . she said I would die in two days' time, he remembered. And it has not yet been two days . . . .

Adastriana stared back, wanting to do something, anything. She fumbled to take up the shotgun, wondering if she could shoot Corvo before he finished off her knight.

But Gavin raised a hand, cautioning the woman to stay out of the fight. A sudden moment of clarity dawned across his face and through his mind. He remembered the knife in its sheath against his right calf.

As Corvo approached with the obvious intent of ending the fight, Gavin reached for the blade, jerking it free as he spun about. With all the strength he had left, he caught Corvo's upraised arm with one hand and stabbed deep into the other knight's chest with the other. The knife slid easily through armor as if it was not there, and through flesh, muscle and bone just as readily.

Corvo froze, an expression of shock dominating his face. He stared at Gavin in wonder. "So . . . we kill . . . each other . . . ."

Gavin grimaced, then twisted the knife, driving it deeper, piercing the man's heart. "Only you," he managed to grunt, before shoving the man away and falling back.

Sprawled upon the ground, Gavin gestured to Adastriana, even as he pulled at the pocket of his armor in which was kept the handkerchief. He tried to speak, but that required too much effort. He could not even see clearly. The darkness was closing in.

He was just able to see the zantrist's form hovering over him before he succumbed.

* * * *

"Gavin!"

He sat up suddenly, startling the woman. His hand reflexively went to his neck, finding the handkerchief there. He took it away and watched as it transformed from a blood-saturated cloth to its pristine white hue once more. He touched his bare neck again, finding no trace of a wound.

Adastriana beamed with relief. "You're alive."

The knight-gunman nodded. "I am indeed," he said. "Thanks to you."

"I remembered the cloth," she said, moving about on her knees before him. "If you had not used it to heal me I would not have known about it."

He breathed out. Strangely, he felt rejuvenated, as if he had not lost any blood at all. Given such a grievous wound, even if it had been closed he would expect to be weak for days. Yet instead, he felt as fit and hale as if he'd had several nights' rest in a comfortable bed.

He looked about, spying Corvo's body on the ground, the hilt of the knife protruding from the chest, then the man's horse and his equipment. He rolled to his feet and stood.

"I was not out for long," he commented.

"No," Adastriana confirmed. "A few minutes."

Gavin stepped to the body and withdrew the knife from the dead man's chest. One of three kills, he thought. "Good. We need to keep moving if we want to make Averine before the inns close."

Adastriana stood, a forlorn shadow crossing her face. "You still intend to leave me there?"

He looked to her. "For both our sakes, it would be best, wouldn't it?"

She cast her eyes down. "I suppose," she agreed in a small voice.

* * * *

They rode in relative silence, punctuated now and then by inane casual conversation, as the hours passed upon the stark, lifeless plains. As the hazy glow of the sun disappeared, replaced with abject darkness, Gavin kept on until the gently-glowing mecca of Averine appeared in the distance beyond a set of rolling, dust-streaming hills.

"We should just make it!" he called over the growing winds, and spurred the mounts further.

Indeed, just as the sentries at the gate to the city switched off the gaslight lamps upon towering poles above the walls, Gavin and Adastriana approached. They were allowed in, mainly due to Gavin's obvious status as a knight-gunman, and led their mounts through the arch before the portcullis descended with a heavy sound.

"This is good," Gavin said, bearing a rare but faint smile. "Neustis is three-quarters of a day from here; I should arrive on time."

"And what of me?" Adastriana asked as she rocked back and forth upon her plodding mount.

He met her gaze with his own. "You will be safe," he said pointedly. "And able to continue on to wherever you wish."

Adastriana fell quiet, looking about at her surroundings. She did not like the idea of having to fend for herself in such an alien environment, not when she was used to luxury and protection. She decided, with a moment of reflection, that she could do without the luxury, but not the protection.

Especially the protection of Gavin Reed.