“It doesn’t matter whether they fly or not. This one did,” Teldin sadly commented.
“What’ll you do now, Teldin?” Liam asked, following Teldin’s gaze. “If you want, the valley folk could gather up and help you out.
The melon crop was destroyed, the house crushed, the chickens and geese lost. Even the goat had disappeared. Teldin tried not to sound defeated. “I do not know, Liam. I just do not know. Maybe I am not meant to be a farmer. Maybe it’s a sign from the gods.” Teldin rubbed at his short-cropped hair, brushing away a new layer of dirt and ash. “Damn it, Liam, things seemed to be going so well!” he burst out. “Crops were good. It was peaceful here. I thought, for once, maybe my life could be happy – after the war and all Teldin’s voice stopped in a knot of frustration and anger.
Liam awkwardly laid a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Look, we’ll just spread the word around. You’ve got friends here. The Stanish boys, the Harnweilers, even Lur Dal would come help. Things’ll be back to normal in no time. I’ve rebuilt from fires, too.” Teldin nodded numbly, letting Liam plan.
Behind the old farmer, the giff’s gray-blue bulk slowly stirred. He gave a deep rumbling groan, rolled to his side, and tried to get up. The creature flopped back to the ground, suddenly aware of his bindings. Teldin couldn’t be sure, but he had guessed from the sounds the thing made that it was male.
Liam scuttled away from the brute at its first movements. What’ll you do about that?” he whispered to Teldin, nodding toward the giff.
As an answer, Teldin stood with exaggerated care, moving his stiff muscles slowly. Taking the cutlass confiscated from the creature’s sash, Teldin stood over the giff and pointed the tip of the blade at the beast’s chest. The human was in no mood for subtlety. The giff stared up at him with small, deep-set eyes. “Who are you and why did you try to kill me?” Teldin demanded, trying to remember how the officers had interrogated prisoners during the war.
“Trooper Gomja, Red Grade, First Rank, Red Platoon,” the giff recited. Teldin was slightly taken aback by the giffs outburst. The creature spoke perfect common, though it was thickly accented. Teldin expected the giff to use some kind of foreign gibberish, like the female had the previous night. After all, hadn’t she used a spell to communicate with him?
“Fine, Gomja,” the farmer answered after regaining his composure. “I want to know why you attacked me and where, in all the god’s names, you came from!” Teldin’s voice became louder and higher until it was almost a hysterical shout. He pressed the blade against the giffs skin to emphasize his point.
The giff hesitated with his answer until a little more pressure from Teldin encouraged a response. “You killed and robbed my captain. It is my duty and honor to protect her. Therefore —”
“Wait – I killed your captain?” Teldin asked in disbelief. “And robbed her?”
“You wear her cloak,” the giff answered, as if that was all the proof needed.
“She gave it to me!” Teldin’s voice was rising to hysteria again. Without dropping his guard on the giff, Teldin pointed to the body of the female he had pulled from the wreckage. “That’s your captain?”
The giff nodded.
Teldin stepped around and looked the giff straight in the eye. “Well, Trooper Gomja, you thick-headed lug,” he angrily informed his captive, “you had better know that your captain was dying when I found her. She gave me the cloak and told me to keep if from the neogi.” Teldin didn’t add that he had no idea who or what the neogi were.
As he listened, Gomja unflinchingly met the farmer’s glare. When the speech was over, the giff looked at his captain’s body, then back to Teldin. He did not speak, as if pondering the farmer’s words and his own situation. “You are a military man?” he finally asked.
Teldin was once again taken aback by the giff’s words. “No, I’m a farmer. Your ship ruined my farm.
“But you have served in the military,” Gomja insisted.
Teldin was amazed at the giff’s perception. Cautiously, Teldin answered, “I was, sort of.” The farmer could not see what the creature’s point was.
“What was your rank?” the giff pressed.
Somewhat embarrassed and somewhat irked by the giffs questioning him, Teldin curtly replied. “1 was a mule skinner, if that is what you mean.”
From behind the tree, Liam could not suppress a snort of surprise. “Mule skinner! I should’ve known, Teldin Moore!” Teldin glared at the older man, willing him to be quiet. The old farmer would probably hound him about his deception for years, Teldin figured, forgetting the giff for an instant.
The giffs jowls twitched and his jaw flexed as he considered the title. “Mule skinner,” he mouthed slowly, working over the words, which were obviously foreign to him. His little eyes met Teldin’s again, trying to look hard but not quite achieving that effect. “I have made an error,” Gomja conceded, his voice stiff with pride. “It was poor discipline for me to attack you. I give my oath that I will not attack you again. You can now release me safely.”
“Don’t do it, Teldin,” Liam shouted from behind the tree. “He’s probably a draconian’s misbegotten spawn!” The old farmer scurried over and grabbed one of the giffs knives from the pile, then quickly returned to the shelter of the tree trunk.
Teldin pondered. He studied the giff’s face. The giff sat stiffly, his massive head held high, eyes pointedly staring at the wreckage. His uniform’s tattered remains completed the ludicrous appearance. In a way, the giff reminded Teldin of certain hard-nosed sergeants he had met or seen in the war.
“Don’t trust him, Teldin!” Liam shouted.
The younger farmer ignored his neighbor’s urging. As comical as the giff looked, there was something in his eyes that suggested honor. The giffs jaw was resolutely set and his gaze showed no signs of suspicion or betrayal. “Well, I can’t keep you tied up forever,” Teldin finally allowed. “I’ll release you, but that doesn’t mean I trust you – understand? Hold your hands out.” Teldin sawed away at the ropes with the cutlass. As the last strand popped, Teldin’s grip on the weapon tightened and he unconsciously braced for treachery. When the giff did not move, Teldin began cutting at the ropes around Gomja’s ankles.
Finally freed, Gomja awkwardly rose and loomed a good foot over Teldin. The giffs feet and hands were numb from the bindings, so he stood rubbing his wrists and stamping his feet. Each huge foot hit the ground with a solid thud. All three – Liam behind the tree, Teldin with the cutlass, and the towering giff – stared at each other. “I would like permission to search for the dead,” the giff finally asked.
Teldin almost expected the giff to add “sir” to the request, given the giffs tone. After looking at the captain’s body, its skin now a pale blue, he nodded his approval. “Liam,” he called, drawing his neighbor from behind the tree, “I found some bodies by the edge of the field last night. Take Trooper Gomja here out so he can bury them.” With that, Teldin handed the cutlass over to the skinny old man.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” Liam groused. His eyes flicked fearfully toward the giff, who stoically waited for permission to start.
“I’ve got my own things to do,” was Teldin’s tired response. “I’ll be searching the house. They’re his dead, so let him bury them.”
“OK, Teldin,” Liam said with a nervous gulp, “if you say so. Now, get moving you – you giff.” Liam clumsily brandished the cutlass, trying to frighten the impassive giff. The creature gave Liam a look of contempt but finally acquiesced to the order.
As the other two marched off to find the bodies, Teldin picked his way across the broken yard to the cabin. The interior was not quite gutted. The corner farthest from the wreck seemed to have escaped the worst of the fire. Probing through the debris, Teldin recovered a few of his things not destroyed by the blaze. Protected under a fallen stone was a small gold medallion that once had belonged to his grandfather. A few clothes, a pair of heavy boots, and a pouch with a few steel coins had managed to escape the fire. Between these and what he wore, Teldin at least had clothing. Elsewhere he found a little salt, some softened cheese, and a toasted loaf of bread. Little more was salvageable.
Teldin looked at the medallion glinting in his hand. When he was little, he had wanted the medallion so badly, he remembered. Grandfather had used to tease him with it. Trembling with pain and bitterness, Teldin closed his eyes to stop the tears that now came. He had run away from his life once, thinking he was escaping to become a hero, only to spend three years in the war doing ugly jobs and learning the truth about a dirty world. It had taken three more years to make his peace and realize that the family farm was where he wanted to be. Now, all the things of his life were gone.
Finally swallowing his bitterness, Teldin set off to see how Liam was doing with the prisoner. He found the pair near the derelict’s stern, the giff standing in a shallow trench, digging it out with a board. Liam sat on a chest, his cutlass always ready. Three bodies lay on the ground nearby. Teldin marveled at Gomja’s strength, guessing that the giff had easily hefted all of the bodies at once. With each scrape of the board, the giff brought up huge amounts of dirt. Teldin squatted beside Liam, then took the opportunity to ask the giff questions.
“Where do you come from?”
“The void,” Gomja tersely answered, driving the board into the dirt.
“More likely the Abyss,” Liam hissed from his perch.
“Quiet, Liam,” Teldin softly cautioned. “The void?” Teldin asked Gomja. The human pointed toward the sky.
“Sort of,” Gomja grunted. “Out where the stars are.” The giff didn’t stop his work.
Teldin knew the giff was lying. Only the gods lived among the stars. Paladine’s, Takhisis’s, and the others’ constellations shone brightly every night. “If you are from the stars, what are you doing here?”
The giff stopped shoveling for a moment. “The ship was damaged in battle. Captain Hemar tried to bring us down for a safe landing, but the damage was too bad. We lost control and missed our target.
“Your target. You were going to land that thing?”
The giff nodded. “There is a large body of water north of here. The
Penumbra
could have landed there.”
“Whole thing’s crazy,” Liam warned. “There ain’t no lakes around here. I tell you, Teldin, this thing’s lying.”
“North of here, eh?” As a soldier, Teldin had seen quite a bit more of the world than his friend. “Liam, I think he means Vingaard Bay.”
“But that’s way up by Kalaman! It’s a good dozen leagues from here,” Liam argued.
“Where else, Liam? Like you say, there aren’t any lakes around here. Besides, it did fall from the sky,” Teldin pointed out. “It’s not like other things are impossible for it.” The giff ignored the pair and went back to work. Liam gave up the argument.
“You said the ship was damaged in battle. I want to know who you were fighting and why,” Teldin demanded in the most authoritative tone he could manage. Getting facts kept his mind from other things.
Gomja pondered a long time, scratching at the dirt with his board while he thought. “We battled a ship of the neogi. They sought to board us and take our crew prisoner.
“The neogi again!” Teldin said softly, remembering the warning given him by the dying captain — “You must keep it from the neogi” — as she pressed the cloak on him. “So what are neogi?”
Gomja looked surprised at the question, his ears wiggling. “The neogi are ravagers of worlds,” he answered, as if explaining the facts every child should know. “They do not seek trade, only to enslave and devour everyone they come across. They are the enemy of all folk in the void. Even the illithids deal with them cautiously.”
“Illithids?” Teldin started. “Oh, never mind.” Every question seemed to lead to more. Neogi, Illithids, it was all getting too confusing. Teldin wanted to keep the conversation on the neogi, since at least the captain had mentioned them. “These neogi, will they come here?”
The question was obviously beyond the giffs estimation. “If your world is rich in life, I suppose they might appear someday.”
Teldin shook his head. “No, I mean now. Will the neogi come after your ship?”
Gomja still looked puzzled. “The
Penumbra
? I do not think so. The
Penumbra
was only a small merchantman. They are certain to think it was destroyed. Besides, I do not think their ship could land here.”
Then why did the captain warn him, Teldin wondered. It didn’t make any sense. But then, since last night, nothing in his life was making sense. More confused than when he started, Teldin gave up his questioning. He needed time to sort out what little he’d learned so far, then maybe he could try again.
Liam loudly kicked the chest he sat on. “Look what I found, Teldin. Must be a load of jewels and gold in it – and maybe steel! I found some other stuff, too.” Liam eagerly laid out his discoveries. A few pots, knives, two swords, and a handful of spearheads was the limit of Liam’s treasure. Teldin looked it all over and gave a shrug. Disappointed, the old farmer made of pile of the few useful goods he had found.
“Well, I’ll bet this has got the captain’s treasure in it,” Liarn exclaimed, clapping the chest with a solid thud. “I can’t get it open, though. Help me with this thing, Teldin.”
“No, not yet.” Teldin was dismayed by Liam’s eagerness to plunder the ship. The older farmer clearly believed salvage was their right. “We will put the chest with the other things. We can do it later. I’m tired, Liam. It’s been a long night.”
“Oh, well, if you want to wait, I can, too. I just figured there’d be something to help you get back on your feet,” Liam explained. “But, if you’re tired, why don’t you come over to my farm, Teldin. Eloise would be glad to know you’re safe, and we can fix you up with a meal and a bed.”
The offer was tempting, but Teldin just didn’t want to leave. It felt wrong abandoning his farm. Reluctantly he shook his head. “You’re kind and generous, Liam, but I can’t leave Trooper Gomja behind.” Teldin nodded toward the giff, still working in the grave. “What would Eloise say?”
Liam smiled at the thought. “There’d be hell to pay, that’s for sure. Sure you won’t come now?”