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DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
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D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 11
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-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 2
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DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
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\\
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\
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========================================================================
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DargonZine Distributed: 03/15/1998
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Volume 11, Number 2 Circulation: 678
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========================================================================
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Contents
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Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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The Broken Staff 2 Mike Adams Ober, 1015
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Friendships of Stone 3 Mark A. Murray Naia 6, 1015
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Deliverance: Praeludium John Doucette
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========================================================================
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DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
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collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
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We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
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Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
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on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues
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are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
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public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
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DargonZine 11-2, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright March, 1998 by
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the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>,
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Assistant Editor: Jon Evans <godling@mnsinc.com>. All rights reserved.
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All rights are reassigned to the individual contributors. Stories
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and artwork appearing herein may not be reproduced or redistributed
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without the explicit permission of their creators, except in the case
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of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution.
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Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
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========================================================================
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Editorial
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by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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<ornoth@shore.net>
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Jam-packed!
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Because DargonZine is still primarily distributed by email, we
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can't make issues any bigger than 100k, since many email systems will
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reject files which exceed that size. In fact, there are some mailers
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(the most notable being juno.com) who will not accept mail larger than
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64k! For that reason, we consider 100k to be a hard limit, and we will
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not produce issues which, when emailed, exceed 100k.
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Well, we had to use a shoehorn, a liberal amount of KY, and a
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jackhammer to fit the following three stories into this issue and stay
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within our self-imposed 100k limit. In fact, things are so tight that
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there's really no room to say anything more in this editorial!
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But never fear! Whenever we have enough material, even though we
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can't print larger issues, we'll produce more frequent issues, and
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that's what you can look forward to, as DargonZine 11-3 is already
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rolling inexorably toward a distribution date in mid-April!
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So enjoy this issue, and I'll see you then!
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========================================================================
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The Broken Staff
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Part II
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by Mike Adams
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<meadams@sunherald.infi.net>
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Ober, 1015
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Dargon City Docks, just before midday
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I am sure the triple towers of Dargon Keep have awed and inspired
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many travellers to that city at first sight. Indeed, it compared
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favorably to The Breakers, the castle which stood on the promontory
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guarding the harbor of Seaport. However, in the past two bells, as the
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_Friendly Lion_ made its way through the channel and prepared to dock, I
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had become much less fond of the view. A ship might be the fastest way
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to travel long distances, but it seemed the slowest way to travel the
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short distance to the dock. I would have thought the harbor pilot would
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make good time, knowing the channel so well, but apparently not.
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I was more surprised by the constant light rain. In Mandraka, the
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weather was normally hot and dry, punctuated by occasional downpours.
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The rain never lasted for long, and the sun's rays provided dry clothing
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in short order. I had been on the deck of the Lion for several bells and
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had never felt so wet in my life.
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I didn't mind being soaked; the discomfort helped keep my mind from
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my personal miseries. I had once been a Herald of Mandraka, a respected
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knight, a man of importance. Having abused my position, my King stripped
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me of that position and my knighthood, and had exiled me to this cold,
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wet, miserable hole. There had been times during my long sea journey
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when I had looked forward to starting anew, but there were many more
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times that I seemed to be drowning in my shame. I tried to focus my
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thoughts on the cold water dripping down my spine.
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Kodo, bosun of the ship, ambled up to me at the rail, and pulling
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at his scrawny white beard said, "We'll be docking soon, wizard. You'd
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better get your things."
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I couldn't help grinning as the bosun headed forward to shout at
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two sailors readying a hawser. At the outset of my voyage to Dargon,
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Kodo had taken me, copper-skinned and dressed in black, for a wizard.
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Kodo persisted in the misapprehension that I was a sorcerer of some
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sort, and no amount of ridicule from his shipmates seemed able to budge
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the idea, which had settled on his brain like a barnacle.
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"Kel Tomis," came the strong voice of Captain Tennent, master of
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the _Friendly Lion_. "I wanted a word before we docked. I may be able to
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get you some work from a merchant who has cargo aboard. When he shows
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up, follow my lead, and we'll see what can be managed, eh?" The captain
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grinned, "He's an old acquaintance, and I probably won't fool him, but
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it's worth a try."
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I smiled back at Tennent. "Thank you, Captain," I said. "Your
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assistance is appreciated."
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Tennent nodded, and replied, "This merchant, Qanis Jetru, while a
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cunning businessman, is somewhat timid when his personal safety is
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involved. A few well-chosen words, and he'll probably beg you to protect
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him." Tennent chuckled to himself, then continued, "I know you have no
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great amount of coin, so let's just say you owe me a drink the next time
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the Lion docks in Dargon, yes?"
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Tennent grabbed my arm to seal our little bargain, then he went aft
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to check the pilot.
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A short time later we were moored, and the gangplank was extended.
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I saw a small man with a short beard emerge from the bustle and approach
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the ship.
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"Ho, the Lion! Permission to come aboard?" shouted out the man, who
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was wearing a heavy gray cloak, of excellent quality, over a brown
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tunic. He wore hose instead of trousers, which I thought insane in this
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weather.
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Tennent's voice boomed from the helm. "Qanis my friend, of course
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you may come aboard." Tennent kept talking as he came forward. "And what
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about your companion; will he be coming aboard as well?" Tennent waved
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at a perplexed sailor, who waved weakly back, and quickly strode away.
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Qanis whirled about in alarm, spotted the fast-walking sailor, and
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scurried up the gangway.
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"I have no companion," he said, his words hurried and high-pitched.
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"I came alone. Was someone following me?" The merchant's gaze darted
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around the wharf, looking for a suspicious character. I saw any number
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of persons who could fit that description, but then the drizzle became a
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downpour, so we went below.
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Soon we were in the captain's small cabin. Tennent was seated at
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his chart table, with the merchant at his left. I sat across from the
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trader. While Tennent exchanged trivial pleasantries with the merchant,
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I took the opportunity to examine Jetru more closely. He had a short,
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neatly trimmed beard, but no mustaches. His plain brown hair had been
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carefully bound with a dark ribbon, and there was an expertly mended rip
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on the sleeve of his tunic. The man may lack physical courage, I
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decided, but he displayed ample evidence of his success in business. His
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appearance meant that there was at least one servant in his house whose
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main function was to tend to his master's public image.
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The clanking sound of glass on metal proclaimed the arrival of
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Tennent's rum bottle. I had been subjected to the foul stuff once
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already on my voyage and I didn't look forward to another taste. Once
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Tennent had filled the small glasses in front of us with the pale brown
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liquid, he raised his glass and downed it all at once. I took a small
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sip, felt it burn down my throat, and tried not to cough. Qanis,
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however, emptied the glass with only a tiny shudder, and with no visible
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hesitation held out his glass for more. My respect for the trader rose a
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small notch.
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"I knew I was being followed," said Qanis. "I can sense it, you
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know. Many's the time I've looked over my shoulder only to catch some
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dirty peasant staring at me, as if to measure my wealth with eyes
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alone." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Why, once, I even made a
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grab for one of those rough types, a very small one, mind you."
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"My friend," Tennent interjected, as Qanis made to take another
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deep breath, "You know I love to hear your stories, but I've cargo to
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see to, and a crew itching for shore leave. As I said, I believe Bren
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can be of help to you. He is a renowned soldier in his homeland, but is
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in Dargon for a short time. He would be willing to act as your personal
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bodyguard until you have disposed of your cargo." Tennent waved a hand
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at me, and went on, "Even his appearance should serve to protect you;
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his dark skin and strange sword will give pause to most scum. And his
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ability with that sword is undoubted. I personally watched him slay a
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number of pirates on the very journey we have just completed. All this
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for the modest sum of four Rounds for a fortnight."
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Immediately, Qanis' nose twitched and his eyes glowed. I watched as
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Tennent and Qanis haggled like fishmongers on the pier. Offer was
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followed by counteroffer, percentages of sales offered instead of cash.
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I lost my thin hold on understanding when they started discussing
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exchange rates, but I kept listening, hoping knowledge of Dargon's
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complicated monetary system would somehow accrue to me. After all, I
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would be living here for the foreseeable future.
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The price for my labor was down to two Rounds, one Royal, for one
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fortnight's work, when Qanis apparently decided he'd done enough and
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sealed the deal. Tennent looked relieved to have the bargaining done,
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and I'd learned something else about my employer. Tennent and Qanis
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drank again, before the captain retrieved Qanis' goods from a locked
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chest, which was bolted to the floor.
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While Qanis checked his box and paid Tennent for delivery, I
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excused myself to retrieve my possessions from my cabin. The few things
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I had been allowed to bring from Mandraka fit into a rather small bag.
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The bulk was made up of several changes of smallclothes, a cup, a spoon,
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and the two pieces of my broken staff of office.
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As a herald of Mandraka, far to the south now, I had carried the
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symbol of my craft with pride. Then I had betrayed myself and the
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College of Heralds by giving a judgement in favor of Lady Kira tel Hon,
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to whom I had entrusted my heart and soul. I stood in the cramped,
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smelly cabin, staring at the staff, and I saw my life, broken and
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useless.
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On the voyage from Mandraka I had spent many bells in the bow of
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the Lion, staring at those two pieces of wood. Many times I had wanted
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to fling the offending fragments into the sea, but I never could. At my
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lowest, the pain of my memories seemed to do more to keep me alive than
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anything else.
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In the end, as always, my self-disgust overwhelmed me, and I shoved
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the sticks into the bag, tied it, and rose from where I knelt.
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Godsblood, I looked forward to getting off this ship; on board there was
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too much time to think.
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Before I left the cabin, I checked my weapons; if I was to be a
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bodyguard, I'd best be prepared. My saber was in prime condition, as I'd
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sharpened and oiled it that morning. The dagger strapped to my left
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forearm was lightly sealed into its sheath with candle wax. The two flat
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handled daggers in my boottops, while invisible to the casual eye, were
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easily accessible to my reaching fingers. Not the most knightly of
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weapons, but Mandraka was not the most chivalrous of kingdoms, and the
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blades had done me good service on more than one occasion.
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As ever, I was reassured by the ritual of touching my weapons, and
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with some small weight taken off my heart, I went on deck. While waiting
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for my employer to appear, I scanned the docks, trying to determine if
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anyone might be paying too much attention to the _Friendly Lion_.
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Tennent had only been trying to fool Qanis, but there was a slight
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chance someone *had* followed the trader.
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Qanis returned topside just then, and signaled me to precede him
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down the gangway and onto the wharf. I stayed at his side as he headed
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towards the stew vendor situated only a short distance from the _Lion_'s
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slip. The tantalizing smell reminded me I had eaten nothing all day.
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As we approached the stew seller Qanis called out, "My good Simon,
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how are you on this fine day?" I looked up at the clouds, which were
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gray with the promise of more rain before day's end. I looked at Simon,
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who winked at me. Oblivious to this byplay, Qanis went on, "How is that
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spice I obtained for you from Quinnat?"
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"Well, Master Jetru," replied Simon as he dished out the savory,
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steaming fish stew to a hungry-looking sailor, "I find it quite tasty,
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but it's too strong for any but the sunsweet stew."
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Qanis looked thoughtful. "I will keep that in mind. In the
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meantime, I've a short measure of dried kellis-weed going spare; could
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you use it?"
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Simon was a more challenging opponent for Qanis than Tennent was,
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and it seemed to me that the merchant enjoyed the bargaining all the
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more because of it. After terms were agreed, we left the vendor. The
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smell of the stew was enough to make me salivate, and I was sorry to go.
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I promised myself that I would visit Simon in the very near future.
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With our backs to the water, Qanis pointed in the direction of
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Commercial Street, where he said his office was located. As we moved
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through the crowd, I had to shoulder aside several of the more
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aggressive beggars. I could hear Qanis behind me, muttering, "Damned
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nuisance, these beggars. I pay enough in taxes, I don't see why the
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guard can't deal with this problem." I made no comment in reply, but the
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next beggar that approached got the back of my hand, and no more of them
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came near.
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Jetru's office, which from appearances served as his home and
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warehouse as well, was not far from the docks, and we arrived without
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further incident. A servant greeted his master at the door. Qanis
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dismissed the man with a gesture and led me down a hallway to a small
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room at the end, which held a cot, a small table with an oil lamp, and
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had precious little room left over.
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"Not much more than a monk's cell, I'm afraid, but you shouldn't be
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doing anything other than sleeping here. I hope it's acceptable," Qanis
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said, giving me a curious look.
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In my time as a herald, I had bedded down in pigsties that were
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more luxurious than this cubicle, but I managed to keep any ill
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expression from appearing on my face, and replied, "Having spent much of
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my life as a soldier, sleeping in my cloak on the hard ground, this will
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be quite acceptable."
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Qanis' face lit up, and he smiled, as if we were playing a game,
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and I had moved correctly. "Come to my office," he said, as he led me
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out of the room, and down the hall to a larger room, half-filled with a
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huge desk covered with papers, ledgers, and packages. He sat in a
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cushioned chair on the far side of the desk, and looked at the pile of
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papers.
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"A pox on taxes, and the papers that go with them," he said in an
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irritated tone. "And did you know," he said, looking at me intently, "I
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am still trying to get compensation for property and goods the Duke took
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for the war. I had a fine warehouse right on the dock; after it was
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destroyed I was told I could have it back 'and by the way, get this mess
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cleaned up.' I've not yet recovered enough to rebuild it. Damned war! It
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all but ruined me, and now I have to take on deals like this to try and
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recoup my losses." He gestured at the box he had carried from the
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_Lion_. Of course, since I had no idea what was in the box, I was in the
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dark as to exactly what type of deal 'this' was.
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Recovering his composure somewhat, he continued, "When I am done
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here, we will go to an inn called Spirit's Haven. I am meeting several
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men who may want to purchase this item. In the meantime I will have one
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of my staff show you to the kitchen. The cook should be able to find
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something to allay your hunger until this evening." He rang a small bell
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that was on his desk, and a young man quickly entered the room.
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"Yes sir?" said the man, apparently a clerk of some kind, wiping
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his hands on an ink-stained smock.
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"Ah, Landis, this is Bren, who will be with us for a short time.
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Show him to the kitchen, and then bring in the figures on that Arvalian
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shipment." The merchant then turned to his papers, while the clerk led
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me to the kitchen.
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Dargon, Layman Street
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It was one of the cheapest rooms in one of the cheapest inns of
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Dargon. There was no fireplace, and the cold, damp air seemed to cling
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to the walls. Mildew covered portions of the ceiling. The mattress was
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stuffed with rags, and the rags were stuffed with fleas.
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The room's only inhabitant paid no attention to his surroundings.
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He squatted in the center of the room, almost still but for the motion
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of his right hand over the open palm of his left hand. The long slim
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dagger held in the right hand met the whetstone held in the left.
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Ssskweet. The blade was turned over. Ssskweet. Back and forth. Ssskweet
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ssskweet. The man looked as if he would be content to remain there
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forever, patiently waiting for some signal known only to him. Ssskweet
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ssskweet. He waited for a voice. Ssskweet.
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The voices had filled Wern's head for as long as he could remember,
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a cacophony of sound that often drove him to pound his head against a
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tree lest he explode from the internal pressure. His father beat him
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whenever he told him about the noises in his head so he soon lived in a
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lonely, sullen world, filled with the ravings of hundreds of voices.
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About the time Wern turned twelve, a particular voice began to
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dominate the others. Some voices it shouted down, echoes of the
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thundering words ringing in Wern's ears. Others were subtly persuaded to
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leave. Soon there was only the one Voice. Wern, drunk on the silence,
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was pathetically grateful, and performed the tasks given him by the
|
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Voice without hesitation. It was some years after Wern had left home
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before all the parts of his father's body were found.
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Dargon, Offices of Jetru & Company, Commercial Street
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I was mopping up the last of the gravy when Landis entered the
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kitchen.
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"Excuse me, sir," he said. "There's someone at the door that says
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he knows you."
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I stood quickly, grabbing my scabbard, which had lain on the table.
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I strode towards the front of the house. I spoke over my shoulder to
|
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Landis, who followed me, "What does this man look like; does he carry a
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weapon?
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"He's a bit taller than you," he replied, "And he's carrying a
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staff."
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I stopped in my tracks. I looked back at the clerk. "Was the staff
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about this tall?" I asked, hold my hand flat at mid-chest height.
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Landis nodded quickly.
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"With carvings?" I asked.
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Another nod.
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"I want to look at this man," I asked. "Can I do that without his
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seeing me?"
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"Yes," Landis replied. "Back through the kitchen. I'll show you."
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As I trailed Landis back through the house my mind roiled with
|
|
battling emotions. "Surely they can't be trying to kill me, they've only
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just exiled me," I thought. I didn't want to face a herald, the shame
|
|
was too great. I hesitate to admit it, but even fear had its place in my
|
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heart that day. I didn't want to die. Maybe that was why I had never
|
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thrown my staff overboard. It goaded me, it tortured me, but it kept me
|
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alive. I didn't want to quit, and slowly a dark fury filled me. I would
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show the damned Heralds of Mandraka! Now I could strike at my shame,
|
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cleanly, with my sword in hand.
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But as we exited the house and stepped in the alley, dimly lit
|
|
through the overcast sky, I stopped. I had to clear my head. Neither
|
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despair, fear, nor unreasoned fury were acceptable frames of mind, not
|
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if I had to fight for my life at any moment. I took a deep breath, and
|
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crept softly to the end of the alley.
|
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Landis pointed to the right. I crouched down, and then carefully
|
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poked my head around the corner. I'm sure that my reaction dumbfounded
|
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Landis. I rose quickly, and laughing out loud, ran to the tall blond
|
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man, and embraced him.
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|
I held my friend, Toran kel Bain, by the shoulders. "What are you
|
|
doing here?" I asked, completely surprised.
|
|
"Freezing, at the moment!" came his cheeky reply. "Have you got a
|
|
warm drink in there? I'll explain as soon as my toes thaw out."
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Kingdom of Beinison, circa 1000
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It was several years before Wern made a guess as to the internal
|
|
voice's identity. During that time he scrabbled in the poorer areas of
|
|
whatever town or city he was currently living in, killing for food when
|
|
necessary, killing for blood when the Voice told him to do so. When he
|
|
was directed to a secret temple where the followers of Amante worshipped
|
|
their bloody god, Wern knew this was where he belonged.
|
|
Wern became an acolyte, and rose quickly in the church. Of course
|
|
he had heard the story of the Eye of Amante; what priest hadn't? The Eye
|
|
had disappeared in the middle of a sacrifice many years ago. The older,
|
|
more cynical priests thought it had been stolen and sold by the priests
|
|
of the temple at that time, but Wern knew better. He knew what had
|
|
happened. The Voice told him.
|
|
And so Wern told the priests that they must search for the Eye, and
|
|
return it to the sacred statue, so that Amante would look favorably on
|
|
them again. At first he was laughed at; even by the more pious priests.
|
|
Soon there was grumbling in council about this young upstart. After
|
|
being beaten by a group of acolytes who invaded his cell in the dark
|
|
bells of the night, Wern left the temple. The Voice spoke to him, and he
|
|
knew what to do. He would go to Dargon, far to the north.
|
|
|
|
Dargon, Offices of Jetru & Company, Commercial Street
|
|
|
|
After seating my shivering friend near the fire, and handing him a
|
|
mug of steaming tea, I asked him, "Tell me, Toran, what in all the gods'
|
|
names are you doing here?"
|
|
He smiled at me and replied, "You didn't expect me, then?"
|
|
"Of course not," I said, frowning. "After being exiled, I never
|
|
expected to see another Mandrakan again."
|
|
Toran turned serious for a moment. "I remember that you fought over
|
|
my prone body at Dukrah, and dragged me from that field. I remember the
|
|
nights I would rage against my father, and you would calm me. I can
|
|
remember the fever I had one winter, and how you were the only one who
|
|
would stay with me."
|
|
He reached out to me and placed an arm on my shoulder. I could feel
|
|
his grip, could see the forgiveness in his eyes. My brother-in-arms was
|
|
a good man, a steadfast friend, and I could feel him silently urging me
|
|
to put his nightmare behind me. I was glad to know that he stood beside
|
|
me, but it brought scant comfort.
|
|
I spoke, slowly at first, then building in speed as I found the
|
|
words. "My brother, whom I love more than my own blood, you have
|
|
forgiven me. My spurs lie broken in the road; the Knights of the Banner
|
|
have done with me. My staff is broken; the Heralds of Mandraka have
|
|
forgotten me. I am exiled; my King has sent me from my home." I rose and
|
|
walked past Toran, and stood in front of the fire, staring at the dying
|
|
flames.
|
|
"It seems everyone else has put my shameful behavior from their
|
|
minds, but I cannot," I continued. "I betrayed myself, Toran. My honor
|
|
is torn almost beyond hope of repair. You of all people should know that
|
|
I cannot pretend that I have suffered enough to even start the mending."
|
|
"It pains me to see you like this, my friend," said Toran from
|
|
behind me.
|
|
Quietly enough so that I am sure Toran did not hear me, I
|
|
whispered, "It pains me also, brother, but not enough."
|
|
After an awkward moment, Toran spoke, "Anyway, I've got some things
|
|
of yours." I turned around as he opened the bag he had with him. "Your
|
|
spare knives, some clothes, and other things." He paused for a smirk, an
|
|
expression that fitted his face much better than the somber one it had
|
|
replaced. "I even brought the pouch of silver you thought you had
|
|
cleverly hidden under the loose stone beneath your bed." He tossed the
|
|
pouch to me, and I caught it reflexively.
|
|
"You came all this way to bring me this?" I asked in exasperation,
|
|
holding out the silver. "Are you mad? What about your position in the
|
|
College of Heralds? And what is your father going to say?"
|
|
Toran frowned at the mention of his father, then smiled grimly. "I
|
|
only wish he knew I was here. I'd enjoy knowing he was in an absolute
|
|
rage." He shook his head and continued, "I told Lord Skel I had personal
|
|
business to attend to, and might be several moons. He didn't question
|
|
me; there are some advantages to being the King's son after all."
|
|
"Only a bastard son, Toran, and your mother is long dead," I
|
|
replied. "Your relationship with your father won't stand much strain."
|
|
"I know," came his bitter response. "I'm reminded all the time that
|
|
I should be grateful for the chance to become a herald. If it weren't
|
|
for the likes of you, the heralds would be called the College of
|
|
Bastards. I hope the gods piss on him." He paused to drain his mug, then
|
|
continued, "I'll get back soon, and nothing will have changed. But even
|
|
if it has, I don't give a damn. Sometimes I wish I'd been born a
|
|
peasant; I'm sure my life would have been much easier."
|
|
We sat, uncomfortably, for some time as we each brooded on our own
|
|
particular inner torments.
|
|
|
|
Dargon, Spirit's Haven, an Inn
|
|
|
|
That evening Qanis, Toran, and I walked to the inn. I had
|
|
introduced Toran to my employer, and as was Toran's way, he had charmed
|
|
Qanis quickly, with talks of deals and negotiations. As they chatted
|
|
about Qanis' latest escapade, a four way deal involving goat dung and
|
|
Comarran wool, I had to laugh. They both glanced at me puzzled, and then
|
|
continued, which only made me laugh harder.
|
|
The look on Toran's face as he talked with Qanis reminded me of
|
|
many long evenings spent in the weapons yard at the College, practicing
|
|
some new move or style, over and over again.
|
|
"Bren," he would say, "I may be the king's son, but that won't save
|
|
my hide in battle. I have to do it better than the others, just to be
|
|
the same." I attribute much of my own ability to the many bells spent
|
|
with Toran, sparring under torchlight.
|
|
We arrived at the Spirit's Haven, and entering the main room, were
|
|
assaulted by the heat of the roaring fireplace. We quickly removed the
|
|
cloaks we had worn against the cool night air, and took a table near the
|
|
room Qanis had hired for his business.
|
|
After a moment the servant, an older man, arrived at the table and
|
|
said, "What can I get you to drink, good sirs?"
|
|
I ordered cold cider, but Toran insisted on wine. He and Qanis
|
|
spent several menes discussing wine with the servant, who seemed to
|
|
know more about wine than anyone I've ever met. After a few menes, the
|
|
server had convinced them that the best choice would be an Arvalian red
|
|
from two seasons ago.
|
|
Soon after that, we were served large platters of steaming cuts of
|
|
beef, covered in thick dark gravy, accompanied by steamed vegetables,
|
|
and crusty bread. The cider washed down the meal in a most efficient
|
|
manner.
|
|
The best part of a bell later, Qanis was the last to push his plate
|
|
away. For a small man, he certainly ate heartily. Toran was admiring the
|
|
last of the wine, which he swirled about in the beautiful clear glasses
|
|
the inn used.
|
|
As bells rang in the distance, Qanis stood. "It is time to do
|
|
business."
|
|
I quickly rose and said my goodbyes to Toran. We made arrangements
|
|
for him to come to Jetru's offices the next day, and then he left for
|
|
the inn at which he would be staying.
|
|
I followed Qanis into the room which he had hired for the evening.
|
|
Gathered in the room was an unusual assortment of six men and one woman.
|
|
Most dressed as if they had money, power, or both. Their hose or
|
|
trousers were clean, and made from good cloth; tunics were of soft,
|
|
textured materials. They seemed well supplied with jewelry, all of them
|
|
wearing several large rings, and several wore brooches that were bent
|
|
into shapes reminiscent of sorcerous symbols.
|
|
They stood apart from each other, as if the power they purported to
|
|
possess would explode if forced into close proximity with a like power.
|
|
There are very few magicians of any power in Mandraka, and I harbored my
|
|
profession's usual dislike and distrust of that craft. None of these
|
|
puffed-up popinjays looked as if they could do anything to change my
|
|
mind on that issue.
|
|
As I passed the one sloppily-dressed man in the room, a foul odor
|
|
assaulted my nose. The scruffy man smelled of stale sweat and rotten
|
|
food. In fact, I could see most of the courses of his last meal, still
|
|
in his beard. I quickly moved to the front, near Qanis, and away from
|
|
the man, who apparently had a deep, abiding fear of water.
|
|
"May I have your attention, please," called Qanis. The noise level
|
|
in the room slowly subsided, and the closet magicians turned to face the
|
|
merchant.
|
|
"Thank you for coming," Qanis continued. "I am sure the merchandise
|
|
on offer will more than make up for any inconvenience you may have
|
|
suffered this evening."
|
|
"Get on with it, Jetru! I, for one, haven't all the time in Makdiar
|
|
to waste upon your ramblings," came harsh words, in a rough voice, from
|
|
the smelly one in the far corner. Several others murmured similar
|
|
feelings.
|
|
"Of course, you are right, Master Kultris. I shall proceed without
|
|
further delay," replied Qanis, who appeared unruffled by the
|
|
interruption. "What I have on offer is none other than the Eye of
|
|
Amante."
|
|
The abrupt announcement produced several whispered conversations,
|
|
and two outright rejections of the apparently preposterous claim. I have
|
|
deep antipathy towards religion and its artifacts, and it seemed several
|
|
people here agreed. Then again, I feel similarly about magicians, and
|
|
they didn't. I decided to keep my opinions out of it, and just keep any
|
|
eye on my employer's back.
|
|
One old man, white-haired and stooped with age, stood and walked
|
|
out of the room without another word, shaking his head the whole time.
|
|
Several others made as if to rise and leave.
|
|
"Please, my gentles, remain seated," cried Qanis, holding his hands
|
|
high, and edging towards the door. "This is indeed the fabled Eye. Only
|
|
this afternoon Corambis the Sage did himself come to my office and
|
|
examine the jewel. Here is his sworn statement to the effect that the
|
|
stone I have in this box is that very holy and powerful relic."
|
|
Qanis had correctly judged his audience, and had used the right
|
|
word to woo them back to their seats. Now that he had regained their
|
|
attention, he brought out the box. He slowly lifted the hinged lid of
|
|
the box, and i could feel the stillness, as one by one the bidders
|
|
released the breath they had almost unknowingly held in their chests, as
|
|
they beheld the Eye of Amante.
|
|
The jewel was as big as my fist, and it's color was the bright red
|
|
of a dying man's blood. It did not sparkle as gems usually do, but
|
|
seemed to draw the light to itself. I am sure it was just noise from the
|
|
dining area outside the room, but I felt as if I could hear the
|
|
murmuring of many voices, coming from the direction of the stone.
|
|
Of its own volition, my hand reached up to touch the brooch pinned
|
|
to my cloak, the brooch my mother had given me on the day I left home
|
|
for the College of Heralds. It had always brought me comfort, and for
|
|
some reason the Eye made me uncomfortable. I cursed myself for a
|
|
superstitious fool, and pulled my hand away from the brooch.
|
|
Without taking her eyes from the stone, the one woman raised her
|
|
voice. "Ten Marks for the Eye."
|
|
"Twelve," came a voice from the left.
|
|
"Fifteen Marks," came the woman's reply.
|
|
The bidding quickly escalated to twenty-two Marks, then stalled.
|
|
Several men had made no bids, and had looked on glumly as the others had
|
|
bid. It seemed that magic involved power more than cold, hard currency.
|
|
|
|
After the bidding stopped at twenty-three Marks, Qanis appeared
|
|
ready to strike the deal. At that moment, Kultris stood up and spoke,
|
|
"Twenty-five Marks, and I know none of you damned magicians can match
|
|
that. You'll all see that a man not born to the power can still get it."
|
|
He cackled, as if well pleased with his work, and walked to the door. As
|
|
he passed Qanis, he said he would send word about the arrangements for
|
|
delivery and payment.
|
|
The unsuccessful bidders straggled out of the room, drained of
|
|
energy, as if a spell they had attempted to raise had gotten the better
|
|
of them. After they left, several serving girls entered and started to
|
|
tidy up for the next occupants of the room.
|
|
"Twenty-five Marks!" exulted Qanis. By all the gods, I'll have my
|
|
warehouse repaired and restocked in no time. Let us go now; I have a lot
|
|
of planning to do."
|
|
We left the inn and entered the cool, dark night. I clasped my
|
|
cloak tightly about myself, but Qanis was inured to the cold, or his
|
|
good mood had rendered him immune for the time being. We walked down the
|
|
street for a moment, and as we came upon a small alley, Qanis stopped.
|
|
"I need to piss," he said. "I had too much of that wine tonight.
|
|
I'll be but a moment." He moved a small way into the dark alley, and
|
|
shortly I could hear the flow against the wall.
|
|
The noise ceased suddenly, and I heard a gasp, then a voice, "I
|
|
knew you would be here. He told me. Where is the Eye?"
|
|
I had heard enough, and I drew my sword, the rasp sounding
|
|
especially loud in the night air.
|
|
"What was that?" the voice asked. I heard Qanis protesting as he
|
|
was shuffled back into the light, the knife at his throat glinting in
|
|
the light from the torch down the street.
|
|
The man holding Qanis was barely taller than the trader, but what I
|
|
noticed was his eyes. I have seen rabid animals on occasion; the
|
|
resemblance with this man was uncanny. His eyes glowed, as if there were
|
|
a fire burning inside his head.
|
|
I decided to treat the attacker as if he were indeed the mad beast
|
|
his eyes proclaimed him to be. In as soothing a voice as I could manage,
|
|
I spoke, "Let the trader go, and I won't harm you, little man."
|
|
"Who *are* you?" he hissed. "He didn't say anything about you.
|
|
leave us now, or I'll bring his wrath on you when I have the Eye." This
|
|
was the second time he'd mentioned the Eye, and I decided that he was
|
|
too dangerous to play with.
|
|
He looked at me once more, then started to drag Qanis back to the
|
|
alley. He looked back over his shoulder, and I flung my saber in a
|
|
vicious backhand, slicing open the inattentive mugger's hand. With a
|
|
howl, he dropped the knife, and shoved Qanis to the ground. He cradled
|
|
the injured hand in his other hand, and stared at me with those blazing
|
|
eyes.
|
|
Suddenly he screamed, "He said I will have the stone! And when I
|
|
do, I will you commit you to an eternity of pain so intense you will beg
|
|
me to kill you!"
|
|
Darting quickly past me, he ran up the street, shouting all the
|
|
while, "You will beg me, beg me ..."
|
|
I turned to Qanis, who had picked himself up, and I made sure he
|
|
was uninjured. He appeared shaken, but not physically injured.
|
|
"I guess that will teach me not to piss in a dark alley," he said,
|
|
then laughed, very nervously. I chuckled with him, and turned him
|
|
towards his home. In the meantime I thought deeply about a man who could
|
|
find the correct dark alley in Dargon, and who called the Eye by name.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Friendships of Stone
|
|
Part 3: Jerid and Koren
|
|
by Mark A. Murray
|
|
<dragonmark@usa.net>
|
|
Dargon, Naia 6, 1015
|
|
|
|
Ben awoke before the dawn bell rang. He tossed and turned in his
|
|
bed trying to get back to sleep, because he knew it was too early to go
|
|
to Matthew's house. He was excited because today he would get to show
|
|
all the people just what a dragon looked like. While in the marketplace
|
|
yesterday, Matthew and he had found a sculptor who made stone figurines.
|
|
Her name was Sharin, and she sculpted a dragon for them. To pay for it,
|
|
they were to show it to everyone they met and to tell who sculpted it.
|
|
Light from the morning sun peeked through the window and Ben got
|
|
up. He looked at his mother's bed and found it empty. Breathing a sigh
|
|
of relief, he got dressed. Normally, when she was home during the night,
|
|
she had some man with her, both usually drunk. He hated those times. His
|
|
father had left some months ago on a trading vessel and had not
|
|
returned.
|
|
There was a knock on the door followed by Matthew's voice, "Ben? I
|
|
know you're awake. Can I come in?" Ben opened the door and smiled. It
|
|
was a crisp spring day outside with the sun just starting to burn the
|
|
morning mist away.
|
|
"Mom's not here, come on in," he told Matthew. "I've been up for
|
|
bells!
|
|
Way before the sun came up." Ben let Matthew in and then hurried to
|
|
change into warmer clothes.
|
|
"So have I," Matthew said. "I thought the sun would never shine, it
|
|
seemed so long."
|
|
"I'm dressed, let's go!" Ben rushed to the door. "First one there
|
|
gets to hold the dragon!" And with that, he ran outside and down the
|
|
street.
|
|
Matthew was close behind him. Being older, Matthew didn't have much
|
|
of a problem keeping up with Ben. He could have passed Ben and reached
|
|
the tent first, but he knew Ben loved that dragon sculpture. He would
|
|
let him win.
|
|
"I got here first!" Ben yelled as he touched the tent flap.
|
|
"Ben!" Matthew warned. "She might still be asleep."
|
|
"No, look, the tent flap isn't tied shut. It's just closed is all.
|
|
She has to be up. Sharin?"
|
|
"Sharin?" Matthew echoed as he pulled the flap aside and stepped
|
|
into the tent. He looked around, but couldn't see much as his eyes
|
|
weren't adjusted to the darkness, yet. "Ben, hold the tent flap open."
|
|
When Ben pulled the flap open, Matthew's eyes grew wide. "Ben!"
|
|
"What?" Ben asked, letting go of the tent flap and running into the
|
|
tent. "It's dark in here again."
|
|
"You let the flap close!"
|
|
"Hello?" called a female voice outside the tent.
|
|
"Sharin?" Matthew called back.
|
|
"No," Tara said as she opened the flap. "It's Tara."
|
|
"Oh," Matthew said. "I thought you were Sharin. What are you doing
|
|
here so early?"
|
|
"Sharin's not here? Oh!" Tara exclaimed as she saw that the whole
|
|
tent was empty. Nothing remained inside the tent. "What happened?"
|
|
"I don't know," Matthew said. "We just got here."
|
|
"I know," Tara remarked. "I saw you from down the street. Sharin
|
|
and I were supposed to look for new cloth to make dresses yesterday, but
|
|
I couldn't make it in time. So I thought I'd show up early and we could
|
|
look today." As she looked around the inside of the tent, she remarked,
|
|
"She wouldn't have just taken her sculptures and left. Something must
|
|
have happened. Even the small desk and the long workbench are gone."
|
|
"My dragon's gone!" Ben cried.
|
|
"So is Sharin, Ben," Matthew replied. "She's more important."
|
|
"I bet that noble she argued with last night took it," Ben said.
|
|
"And her, too!"
|
|
"We have to tell my uncle!" Tara said, turning around to leave.
|
|
"Your uncle?" Matthew asked, following her. Ben was the last one
|
|
out, and he let the tent flap fall closed with a quiet rustle of fabric.
|
|
He thought about tying it shut, but realized that there wasn't anything
|
|
there to steal. His dragon was gone. Sighing, he turned to follow Tara
|
|
and Matthew.
|
|
"I told you last night, my uncle is the captain of the guard. He'll
|
|
be able to find her." Tara turned south on the Street of Travellers and
|
|
headed out of the marketplace.
|
|
"Where are you going?" Matthew asked.
|
|
"I told you! To see my uncle."
|
|
"No, *where* are you going. Where is he?"
|
|
"Oh! He's in the keep right now," she answered. Ben stopped
|
|
suddenly.
|
|
"We can't go there!" he said.
|
|
"Ben's right, we aren't allowed to go there," Matthew agreed. Tara
|
|
stopped and looked back at the two boys. She was torn between leaving
|
|
them here and ... she didn't know what else to do with them. She
|
|
realized that they were the only ones who saw the noble, and she needed
|
|
them.
|
|
"It will be alright. You're with me, and we're going to see Captain
|
|
Koren of the town guard. He'll vouch for you once he hears what
|
|
happened."
|
|
"We aren't allowed to go there! Rachel said so!" Ben reiterated.
|
|
"If Rachel said we aren't allowed there, then we aren't allowed there!"
|
|
"But I need you to tell my uncle what the noble looked like," Tara
|
|
pleaded. "Please."
|
|
"I can't go," Ben said, stubbornly.
|
|
"Ben, Rachel only said that we couldn't go there by ourselves.
|
|
Well, that's what she meant, anyway."
|
|
"She told us not to go to the keep," Ben said.
|
|
"Yeah, but that was when we were headed out the door to go
|
|
exploring. Remember. She got real serious and told us not to go very
|
|
far. Besides, if she were here, she'd let us go to the keep with her.
|
|
She's not much older than Tara, and Tara's uncle is captain of the
|
|
guard."
|
|
"I don't know ..." Ben said. "I guess I'll go, but if she gets mad,
|
|
I'm telling her it was your idea!" Matthew grinned, accepting the
|
|
responsibility.
|
|
"Well then, come on! Sharin's missing!" Tara said, turning around
|
|
to continue down the street.
|
|
|
|
"Look Matthew!" Ben yelled as he caught sight of the stone
|
|
causeway. He ran up to the beginning of it and looked across. It was
|
|
built of large stones, logs, and bricks and spanned the Coldwell River.
|
|
Arches underneath it let the river continue along its path almost
|
|
undisturbed. The top part was brick, intricately woven from one side to
|
|
the other. Ben ran out onto part of it and looked over the side. There
|
|
were no railings and Ben could see that the river was murky and high
|
|
from the spring thaw coming out of the mountains.
|
|
"Don't get too close to the edge," Tara warned. "I don't want to
|
|
have to explain why you fell over into the river." They crossed the
|
|
causeway and continued on toward the keep.
|
|
"It sure looks big," Matthew said as he looked toward Dargon Keep.
|
|
Three tall towers rose from the keep, two facing the river and one
|
|
facing the sea.
|
|
"The keep is big," Tara agreed. "There are two large ballrooms for
|
|
dancing and the Duke's reception chamber. That's larger than the
|
|
ballrooms. It has to be; that's where he does all the public business,
|
|
and lots of people are there. There are private chambers, too. Those are
|
|
usually smaller. There's the Duke's library, and ..."
|
|
As Tara continued to tell them about the keep, they started their
|
|
climb up the road toward the main gate. The road twisted and turned to
|
|
go around several large boulders as it winded upwards to the top. Once
|
|
at the top, the road widened somewhat to pass through the keep's large
|
|
outer gate. Matthew and Ben stared at the walls, the gate's opening, and
|
|
the inner courtyard as they made their way into Dargon Keep.
|
|
The inner courtyard was a flurry of activity, mostly from the
|
|
militia. The militia was training in one section and Matthew could see
|
|
that all of the trainees were young. With the war only being over a few
|
|
months, all the older soldiers weren't home yet. There were also other
|
|
people scattered about trimming hedges, digging the ground, and planting
|
|
seeds.
|
|
Tara led them past all the people to the keep itself and then down
|
|
several corridors to a large, sturdy wooden door. She pounded on the
|
|
door and waited for an answer.
|
|
"Kalen! Quit knocking every time and come in!" boomed a voice from
|
|
behind the door. Tara opened the door and smiled.
|
|
"If you think I look like Kalen, you need to step down and let him
|
|
take over," she teased her uncle. Koren looked up from behind his desk.
|
|
He was a large man with grey hair and a long mustache that stretched out
|
|
beyond his mouth, only to curl up at the ends. He was wearing a blue
|
|
uniform jacket adorned with gold epaulets and brass buttons.
|
|
"I thought you wanted the day to yourself," he replied. "You've
|
|
come back to help me, I see," he teased back. "I'm sure I can find
|
|
something for you to do." He looked behind her and saw the two boys in
|
|
the hallway still. "What, you've brought help?"
|
|
"Help, yes, Uncle Koren. But it is me that needs your help.
|
|
Sharin's missing."
|
|
"Eh? That friend of yours?" he asked.
|
|
"Yes. She's gone and so are all her sculptures from her tent. You
|
|
have to find her. A noble came and took her."
|
|
"A noble?" he asked, his blue eyes narrowing. "And you saw this
|
|
noble take her?"
|
|
"No, but the boys saw the noble," Tara replied, masking the full
|
|
truth.
|
|
"They did, did they? Well get in here, you two," he said, his deep
|
|
voice rumbling in the room. Matthew and Ben slowly stepped into the
|
|
room. "Come on! I haven't got all day! Who are you? And what did you
|
|
see?"
|
|
"I'm Matthew and this is Ben," Matthew said. "And we really didn't
|
|
see the noble take her."
|
|
Koren gave his niece an icy stare, but said nothing to her. Turning
|
|
back to the boys, he asked, "Well what did you see?"
|
|
"He did it," Ben said. "I know he did it!"
|
|
"Who did it?" Koren asked.
|
|
"That noble," Ben replied, quickly.
|
|
"Ben, we'd better tell him everything from the beginning. That way,
|
|
he'll understand," Matthew explained. "We --"
|
|
"We who?" Koren asked, interrupting.
|
|
"Ben and me. We went to the marketplace to look around for any new
|
|
stalls being set up. That's when we found Sharin's tent. She had some
|
|
life-like figurines outside her tent. She came out, and we talked --"
|
|
"About what?"
|
|
"About her sculptures. She showed us some more, and Ben asked her
|
|
if she could make a dragon. She said that if someone described it to
|
|
her, she probably could --"
|
|
"And she did! A neat one! It has wings this big," Ben said,
|
|
spreading his hands to show how large the wings were. "And --"
|
|
"Enough!" Koren commanded. "I want to hear what happened, not what
|
|
a dragon looks like. Continue, Matthew."
|
|
"She made a deal with us that if she made a dragon, we'd have to
|
|
show it off and tell everyone about it for four days. If we told people
|
|
that she made it and where to find her for four days, we could keep the
|
|
dragon. We agreed, and she pushed us out of the tent so she could start
|
|
sculpting.
|
|
"We returned a bell later --"
|
|
"Just when was this?"
|
|
"It was yesterday. We returned and heard voices inside the tent. As
|
|
we got closer, we could hear what they were saying. This man was
|
|
threatening Sharin."
|
|
"How?"
|
|
"He was saying that she was going to work for him and she didn't
|
|
have a choice and he would make sure she worked only for him. He sounded
|
|
mad, too. She told him she would never work for him. He told her that
|
|
she would whether she liked it or not and she didn't have a choice in
|
|
the matter.
|
|
"He stormed out of the tent right after he said that and almost
|
|
knocked Ben and me down. We just got out the way in time or he would
|
|
have run us over. He glared at us as he walked by."
|
|
"What did this noble look like?" Koren asked. Ben giggled at the
|
|
question. Tara smiled, too. They had made a game of remembering what the
|
|
noble had looked like.
|
|
"Can you remember, Matthew?" Ben asked, still smiling.
|
|
"Not all of it. I remember he had a small scar above his left eye."
|
|
"He was a mean noble with no name who's plump with a scar above his
|
|
left eye without a beard who knocks people down," Ben recited. Koren
|
|
raised an eyebrow at the boy's description of the man.
|
|
"That's a fair description. How tall was he?"
|
|
"I couldn't reach the top of him if I stretched my hand up," Ben
|
|
answered. Koren stood up.
|
|
"Was he as tall as me?"
|
|
"No," Matthew said. Ben walked over to Koren and looked up.
|
|
"He would have reached to about your eyes," he said. "He was
|
|
rounder than you, too. Not as much muscle, either. His eyes were dark."
|
|
Ben seemed to be staring past Koren as he described the noble. "And no
|
|
beard."
|
|
"Did you remember all that, or can you picture him in your head?"
|
|
Koren asked Ben.
|
|
"I can see him when I concentrate," Ben answered. "But he gets
|
|
blurrier as time goes by. I don't think I'll be able to picture him like
|
|
this by tomorrow, but I'll always be able to recognize him!"
|
|
"You've got a sharp mind, boy," Koren said. "Are you apprenticed
|
|
anywhere?"
|
|
"Apprenticed? What's that? I work at the Golden Lion, if that's
|
|
what you mean."
|
|
"No, that's not what I meant, but it answers my question. Now,
|
|
about Sharin. I can't just go arresting this noble. Are you sure Sharin
|
|
isn't out somewhere on errands?"
|
|
"All of her sculptures were missing from her tent," Tara answered.
|
|
"Besides, it's still early. Where would she take all the sculptures? And
|
|
why?"
|
|
Koren grunted. "Okay, I'll send some men to look for her. Tara, you
|
|
can give her description to the men. No, better yet, go to the barracks
|
|
and see who's there. I know some of them have seen you and Sharin
|
|
together. See if anyone there has ever seen her and bring them to my
|
|
office. I'll also send someone with you to go back to her tent. I'll
|
|
have him search for signs that might lead us to her."
|
|
"But you can't arrest the noble?" Ben asked as Tara left the room
|
|
on her Uncle's errand.
|
|
"No, I can't, even if I knew whom it was -- which I don't. Just
|
|
from what you've told me, I can't arrest him."
|
|
"Then what good is it to even look into the matter? Just find
|
|
Sharin," Ben said, disgustingly.
|
|
"Because, Ben," Koren said, kneeling down to look Ben in the eyes,
|
|
"if the noble did do it, then we may find something to prove he did it.
|
|
And then we can arrest him. It's not a great chance that we'll find
|
|
anything, but it's what we do. We look for evidence. And I want you to
|
|
pay close attention to what and how my man looks for it, okay?"
|
|
"Okay," Ben replied, slowly nodding his head.
|
|
|
|
Tara returned a short while later with four men.
|
|
"You've all seen Sharin?" Koren asked them. They all nodded.
|
|
"Hmmph. More than I expected. Would you be able to spot her in a crowd?"
|
|
"I only saw her once," one guard said.
|
|
"I didn't ask how many times you saw her, Roji," Koren replied. "I
|
|
asked if you could recognize her?"
|
|
"Yes," Roji said.
|
|
"Garay?"
|
|
"Yes, sir," Garay replied.
|
|
"Westerly?"
|
|
"I'd know her."
|
|
"I don't know you," Koren said to the fourth guard. "You're new?"
|
|
"Yes sir," the guard replied, his voice breaking on sir. "My name
|
|
is Dralyn Kepson."
|
|
"You know Sharin?"
|
|
"No, sir, but I've seen her before. I'll know her if I see her."
|
|
"Well, Roji, Garay, and Dralyn," Koren pointed to them, "go search
|
|
for her, then. Tara believes she's been kidnapped. If you see the
|
|
patrols, give her description and tell them to keep an eye out for her.
|
|
"The kidnapper could be a noble, but that's not known for truth. If
|
|
you find her, report back to me but take no action -- unless her life is
|
|
in danger.
|
|
"And Westerly, take these boys back to her tent and see what you
|
|
can find. See what tracks are there, if a wagon's been by, what it looks
|
|
like inside, and explain to the boy here what you're looking for. On
|
|
your way there, get the boys to fill you in on the rest of the details.
|
|
Understand?" The men nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for?" The three
|
|
men left the room while Westerly stayed, waiting on the boys.
|
|
"It's the best I can do," Koren told them. "Go with Westerly here,
|
|
and he'll show you what he knows and what he's looking for." Ben and
|
|
Matthew followed the guard out the door, looking back at Tara.
|
|
"I'll be along shortly," she told them.
|
|
|
|
Matthew and Ben walked with Westerly back to the tent. The other
|
|
three guards accompanied them, also. One mentioned that the best place
|
|
to start looking for the girl was the last place she was seen. Matthew
|
|
and Ben told the guards what they knew and saw.
|
|
As they reached the marketplace, Ben showed them which tent was
|
|
Sharin's and Westerly stopped them all several paces from the tent.
|
|
"I want to look around first," Westerly said, "before we go adding
|
|
more boot prints around the area. Ben, you'll come with me, but walk
|
|
right behind me. Stop when I stop, got that?"
|
|
"Walk right behind you and stop when you stop," Ben reiterated.
|
|
"Got it." And so Ben walked behind Westerly, trying to see what the
|
|
guard was doing. "What are you looking at?"
|
|
"Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, didn't I? I get so caught up in
|
|
looking, that I forget to say anything. And if I don't tell you what I'm
|
|
doing, Captain Koren will have my hide, now won't he?
|
|
"See these tracks here," Westerly pointed to several sets of tracks
|
|
in front of the tent. "I'm guessing that these are you and your friend's
|
|
tracks. Looks like sandals and they are smaller tracks than an adult
|
|
would make. Looking at your sandals and your friend's, I'm sure of it.
|
|
The other track beside yours is probably Tara's. Everything else is too
|
|
covered over to tell for sure.
|
|
"I'm glad it's dirt up to the tent, though. If it was bricked, I
|
|
wouldn't have an easy time of telling. Let's look round the sides now."
|
|
Westerly walked around the sides, telling Ben about what he found.
|
|
Once around the tent, Westerly walked into the inside of the tent. He
|
|
pushed the flap open, but when it wouldn't stay, he had two of the
|
|
guards hold the flaps open. With what light came in, Westerly examined
|
|
the inside of the tent. He could see on the left side in the dirt that
|
|
there had been figurines on the ground. Their depressions were still in
|
|
the dirt. He made all kinds of remarks to Ben as he examined the ground.
|
|
"Not much to go on, it isn't," he said to no one in particular as
|
|
he walked out of the tent.
|
|
"Well, what do you have?" Roji asked.
|
|
"Not much," Westerly replied. "Except they were fairly good at what
|
|
they did."
|
|
"I don't follow?" Dralyn said.
|
|
"It's like this," Westerly began. "If you kidnapped someone and
|
|
knew that you left traces or tracks, you'd want to cover them. And
|
|
that's just what someone did, they covered their tracks. But, if you're
|
|
really good at it, you'll make it look as if things were normal and
|
|
nothing happened. Whoever took this girl wasn't really good. They used
|
|
something to smooth out the dirt where they had been inside the tent,
|
|
they did."
|
|
"I still don't follow."
|
|
"Where they did smooth the dirt out; there's no tracks at all. It's
|
|
just smooth dirt. But, you have tracks and depressions in the dirt along
|
|
both sides inside the tent. Nothing in the center as it's been smoothed
|
|
out, but they didn't smooth out the sides. So, either they aren't very
|
|
good, or they just don't care that anyone knows she's gone; they just
|
|
care that they aren't found."
|
|
"If that's the case, they're planning on taking her out of Dargon.
|
|
Which means --" Garay started to say.
|
|
"That you'd better hurry and find her," Westerly interrupted,
|
|
looking at the two boys. "If you search hard and fast, you'll find her
|
|
in time, won't you?"
|
|
"Yes, we will," Roji replied. He understood that Westerly was
|
|
trying to keep the boys from the fact that Sharin was most likely not in
|
|
Dargon anymore.
|
|
"You two boys go home. I've done all I can here, and I'm going to
|
|
help the rest search," Westerly said. "The more of us there are
|
|
searching, the quicker we'll find her."
|
|
"Can't we go --?" Ben started to ask.
|
|
"C'mon Ben, let's go home," Matthew said, pulling on his friend's
|
|
arm.
|
|
"But, I want --"
|
|
"*C'mon Ben*, let them do their job," Matthew told him. Ben turned
|
|
around and walked slowly alongside Matthew.
|
|
"I wanted to go with them," Ben whispered quietly, head tilted down
|
|
looking at the street.
|
|
"I have a better idea," Matthew answered. Ben looked up quickly at
|
|
his friend.
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"Rachel's been seeing a lot of Jerid, hasn't she? And he works with
|
|
the keep's guard, doesn't he?"
|
|
"So."
|
|
"So, if it was a noble that kidnapped Sharin, then don't you think
|
|
the keep's guards would be the best people to look into it? And don't
|
|
you think that Jerid, who's a Lieutenant in the keep's guard is the one
|
|
to talk to?"
|
|
"He would be!" Ben exclaimed. "But how do we get in to see him?"
|
|
"We say that Rachel sent us," Matthew said, smiling. "But we have
|
|
to go back to the keep again. This time by ourselves."
|
|
"We do?" Ben asked, eyes getting big. "Rachel wouldn't like that."
|
|
"Ben, please. It's for Sharin. She's in trouble, and she needs our
|
|
help. Besides, we've been there once, what trouble can we get into? We
|
|
know the way now."
|
|
"I don't know ... we aren't supposed to be out wandering alone."
|
|
"But we're not wandering," Matthew said. "We know where we're
|
|
going."
|
|
"We do, don't we," Ben replied, a smile forming on his lips.
|
|
"Let's go see Jerid," Matthew said, and they walked back to the
|
|
Street of Travellers to make their way back to Dargon Keep.
|
|
"How do we find him?" Ben asked as they neared the keep.
|
|
"We find one of the keep's guards and tell him that we need to see
|
|
Jerid," Matthew answered. "And if that doesn't work, we'll say Rachel
|
|
sent us. That should get us in to see him."
|
|
|
|
When they reached the keep, they looked for a lone keep guard to
|
|
approach. It turned out harder than they thought as the guards tended to
|
|
move about in pairs or squads. Going around the courtyard, they managed
|
|
to spot a guard sitting alone. He was on a bench eating an apple and
|
|
relaxing. They walked over to him.
|
|
"Could you take us to see Jerid?" Matthew asked.
|
|
"Eh?" the guard mumbled, and then swallowed the bits of apple in
|
|
his mouth. "Jerid? You mean Lieutenant Taishent?"
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
"What do you want with him? He's a busy man and doesn't see just
|
|
anybody."
|
|
"He'll see us," Ben told him.
|
|
"He will? And how do you know that?"
|
|
"Because he visits our house often," Ben replied.
|
|
"He does? I've never seen you around the Lieutenant before. Why
|
|
does he visit your house?" the guard asked, his curiosity aroused.
|
|
"He comes over to see Rachel."
|
|
"Rachel? Maybe Lieutenant Taishent will want to see you and maybe
|
|
he won't," the guard replied. "We'll find out, though. And if he doesn't
|
|
know you, I'll have you thrown into the gaol for lying." He took the
|
|
boys into the main part of the keep and down a hallway to stop before a
|
|
large wooden door. He knocked and waited.
|
|
"Who is it?" called a voice from inside.
|
|
"Sargent Ryal, sir," the guard replied. "I have two visitors to see
|
|
you."
|
|
"Visitors?" There was a scraping sound inside, and then they could
|
|
hear boot steps toward the door. It opened and Jerid stood in front of
|
|
them. "I told you I didn't want to --" He stopped when he saw who it
|
|
was.
|
|
"They say that you know them, and that you know a Rachel, sir,"
|
|
Ryal said, watching his commander's face for any reaction. If there was
|
|
any, Ryal did not see it.
|
|
"Ah, yes. I know the boys. Come inside you two. Thank you Sergeant
|
|
Ryal, you may return to your duties," Jerid replied and shut the door
|
|
after the boys entered.
|
|
"What in Stevene's name are you two doing here?" Jerid asked, his
|
|
voice edged with anger. "I know as a truth that you aren't allowed
|
|
here."
|
|
"But a friend of ours was captured by a noble," Ben spurted out.
|
|
"And she was really nice to us. She made us a dragon and was going to
|
|
let us work for it and she --"
|
|
"Stop," Jerid commanded. "Tell me what happened Matthew."
|
|
"We met this woman who makes stone figurines at the marketplace.
|
|
She agreed to make us a dragon if we would take it around and show it
|
|
off and tell people that she was the one who made it. She was making the
|
|
dragon, and we came back to her tent to see if she was done. We heard
|
|
this noble arguing with her. Then he threatened her --"
|
|
"What did he say?"
|
|
"He said that she would work for him, and she didn't have a choice
|
|
about it. She said that she didn't want to work for him. He told her
|
|
that she would work for him even if he had to make her. Then he came out
|
|
of the tent and almost knocked us over. We got out the way just in time
|
|
or he would have run us over."
|
|
"What did he look like? And how do you know he's a noble?"
|
|
"Ben?" Matthew asked, looking to his friend.
|
|
"He was a mean noble with no name who's plump with a scar above his
|
|
left eye without a beard who knocks people down," Ben recited. "And he
|
|
was just a bit taller than I can reach." Ben raised his hand up to show
|
|
how far he could reach. "He had a mustache, too."
|
|
"He looked like a noble," Matthew added. "He had on real fine
|
|
clothes. They looked expensive. He acted like everyone should get out of
|
|
his way."
|
|
"This is the responsibility of the town guard," Jerid told them.
|
|
"Why didn't you go there?" Ben looked down at the floor, and Matthew
|
|
looked over at the wall. "You did go there. Why come to me?"
|
|
"They aren't going to find her," Ben replied. "They looked at the
|
|
tent and couldn't find any trace of who took her."
|
|
"We thought that if he was a noble ... well, you have dealings with
|
|
nobles here in the keep, and we thought you might know who it was,"
|
|
Matthew said.
|
|
"I don't know anyone that looks like you've described. But I will
|
|
look into it." Matthew and Ben smiled. "However," Jerid went on to say,
|
|
"you two are going home, and are going to stay there! Is that clear?"
|
|
Both boys nodded. "Good. Now come with me." He led the two boys to the
|
|
quarters of the keep's guards. "Where's Ryal?" he asked the closest
|
|
guard.
|
|
"In the courtyard, sir," came the reply. Jerid turned and led them
|
|
back to the courtyard. He spotted Ryal sitting on a bench. Ryal happened
|
|
to spot his commander, noticed the look on his face, and stood up at
|
|
attention.
|
|
"Relax," Jerid ordered. "Take these two boys home. They'll show you
|
|
the way. Make sure that either Rachel or Eileen is there before you
|
|
leave.
|
|
If neither are there, you stay with the boys until one of them
|
|
shows up."
|
|
"Sir? I can't watch children. I --"
|
|
"You brought them to me, you take care of them. Understood?"
|
|
"Yes, sir," Ryal replied, and then turned to the boys. "C'mon you
|
|
two. Show me where you live."
|
|
"Thank you, Jerid," Ben said. "We didn't mean to cause any harm. We
|
|
just want Sharin back. She was real nice to us."
|
|
Jerid looked down at the boy and his face softened. "I'll see what
|
|
I can do, Ben. Now go home." Jerid watched as the three of them left the
|
|
courtyard. Muttering curses, he turned back toward the keep. The best
|
|
thing to do would be to ask either Duke Dargon or Captain Bartol if they
|
|
knew the noble. The duke was in the audience chamber listening to
|
|
whoever was there. With any luck, there would only be a few people there
|
|
pleading whatever case or quarrel they had. As he made his way to the
|
|
chamber, he hoped it wasn't full.
|
|
When he reached the audience chamber, he breathed a sigh of relief.
|
|
It wasn't crowded and it looked like the last few people were talking to
|
|
the duke. As he made his way along the wall, he noticed Captain Koren
|
|
standing alone.
|
|
Koren looked around and noticed Jerid walking toward him.
|
|
"Lieutenant Taishent," Koren acknowledged in a soft voice. Words tended
|
|
to carry easily in this chamber, and it wouldn't be good to interrupt
|
|
the duke.
|
|
"Captain Koren," Jerid responded as softly. "What are you doing
|
|
here?"
|
|
"Cut right to the soul of things, eh?" Koren smiled. "I'm here
|
|
about a noble. And you?"
|
|
"A noble? This noble wouldn't happen to have a cut above his left
|
|
eye, would he?" Jerid asked, already knowing the answer. Koren wasn't
|
|
surprised at the question, or if he was, he didn't show it.
|
|
"Two boys. Names of Matthew and Ben?"
|
|
"Yes," Jerid replied, shaking his head.
|
|
"Was my niece with them?"
|
|
"No, she wasn't. Why?"
|
|
"I told all three of them to go home. I just figured if those two
|
|
boys showed up at your office, Tara would have been there, too. Now,
|
|
though, I've got to wonder what she's up to. Did you send the boys
|
|
home?"
|
|
"Yes, and sent a man with them to make sure they got there."
|
|
"I did that, too," Koren replied, a small smile on his lips. "If it
|
|
didn't work for me, why do you think it will work for you?"
|
|
"Because I don't think they have anywhere else to go. Unless ..."
|
|
"You don't think," Koren said. They both looked around the room,
|
|
searching for the two boys. Not seeing them, they both chuckled. "I
|
|
still find it hard to believe I'm standing here waiting to talk to Duke
|
|
Dargon because of two small children."
|
|
"That both of us are here," Jerid amended. "We'll have to keep an
|
|
eye on those two. The last time our offices worked together was because
|
|
of Liriss. That I can understand, but two small children?" Jerid was
|
|
watching the last of the people leave the presence of the duke.
|
|
"Looks like no one else is going to speak," Koren said.
|
|
"Is there anyone else who would like to appear before me?" Duke
|
|
Dargon called out.
|
|
"Milord," Jerid spoke up. Koren and he moved through part of the
|
|
assemblage to appear before the duke. Duke Dargon was seated in a
|
|
cushioned chair on a small dais. The war had not been kind to Clifton
|
|
Dargon. He looked many years older now as compared to before the war.
|
|
His left arm had been severed at the elbow while fighting in a naval
|
|
battle. While still physically young, he looked tired, worn, and
|
|
haggard. The smiles that once came often to his face appeared less
|
|
frequently now.
|
|
"Lieutenant Taishent *and* Captain Koren. For both of you to be
|
|
here, it must be a matter of importance. Had I seen you earlier, I would
|
|
have spoken with you right away," Dargon told them.
|
|
"Milord," Jerid said, "we *are* here for the same matter."
|
|
"That is something I have rarely seen," Lansing Bartol said,
|
|
interrupting any further explanation. He stepped up beside them. "Milord
|
|
Dargon," he bowed, "my apologies for being late, but to see two of our
|
|
officers here together. Why, matters of utmost importance must be
|
|
happening," Bartol said, chuckling.
|
|
"Captain Bartol, you aren't here with them?" Dargon asked.
|
|
"No milord."
|
|
"Ah. I had thought that you showing up right after, you were here
|
|
with them," Dargon replied. "No matter. Lieutenant Taishent, please
|
|
proceed."
|
|
"Milord," Jerid began, "I have received news that a noble may have
|
|
kidnapped a merchant." Clifton Dargon's face grew solemn and his brows
|
|
furrowed as he stared at them.
|
|
"Come with me," he ordered. Getting up from his seat, he turned to
|
|
his right and walked to a door near the corner of the chamber. A page
|
|
opened the door for him and held the door for Jerid, Koren, and Bartol
|
|
also. They followed Dargon into another room which held only a table and
|
|
six chairs.
|
|
"Sit," he told the three of them after the door was closed. "A
|
|
noble, you say? How -- no, start at the beginning. I want to hear all of
|
|
it. *All* of it, do you understand?" Jerid and Koren nodded. "Good.
|
|
First you, Lieutenant Taishent." Duke Dargon sat in a chair on the
|
|
opposite side of the table. He leaned forward to show them that they had
|
|
his complete and undivided attention.
|
|
Jerid and Koren did not realize that the duke would take the news
|
|
so seriously. They did realize that it was too late to change things, so
|
|
they told the duke the whole story as they knew it. At one point, Bartol
|
|
gave out a short laugh, only to be silenced by a look from Dargon.
|
|
"Are you telling me that you are here because of something two
|
|
children told you?" Dargon asked seriously.
|
|
"Not exactly, milord," Koren replied. At a nod from Dargon, he
|
|
continued, "You see, my men found nothing at Sharin's tent. Everything
|
|
inside had been taken. That makes me believe that something did happen.
|
|
I do believe she was taken, but I don't know who took her. The only
|
|
thing I have to go on right now is the words of two children, yes, but
|
|
it's worth looking into. I can't arrest a noble on what I have, but I
|
|
can search and try to find the truth. Also, Sharin is the friend of my
|
|
niece, Tara. It's not some unknown merchant who may have packed up and
|
|
left town, but someone we know."
|
|
"Milord," Jerid added, "I know the two children. They wouldn't make
|
|
something like this up."
|
|
"Have you heard the bell sound, Bartol?" Dargon asked.
|
|
"Not yet," Bartol replied. In public, Lansing Bartol was a bard,
|
|
the Captain of the militia and Duke Dargon's personal advisor.
|
|
Formalities were normally observed. In private, Bartol was Clifton's
|
|
close friend, and formalities were dropped.
|
|
"Fortunately," Dargon told them, "I have a meeting with some
|
|
merchants and nobles about tax issues when the next bell strikes. You
|
|
may accompany me and look for this noble. If he's not there, I will ask
|
|
if any there know of this noble. That is the best I can do.
|
|
"Family is important, I understand that. I also understand that
|
|
there is the possibility, although small, that what you say really did
|
|
happen. I won't allow *any* noble to get away with things like that.
|
|
They, too, must follow the law. Whatever the case, I want to know what
|
|
happened, but not at the expense that you disregard your duties. Is that
|
|
clear?"
|
|
"Yes, milord," Jerid and Koren said at the same time. Bartol could
|
|
not contain his laughter and it echoed around the room. Clifton Dargon
|
|
smiled, and the two men relaxed some.
|
|
|
|
The meeting with the merchants and nobles about the tax issues went
|
|
fairly well. It was held in a small audience chamber that contained one
|
|
long rectangular table that seated twenty people. There was no sign of
|
|
the noble that Jerid and Koren were looking for, however. Informing
|
|
Bartol that they didn't spot the noble, Bartol told Dargon, and Duke
|
|
Dargon gave the description of the noble to the assembled group. He
|
|
asked if they knew whom it was.
|
|
"Milord," a merchant said, stepping forward. "I have done business
|
|
with a noble who has a very small scar above his eye. This noble has a
|
|
mustache and no beard. I don't know for sure if he's the one you're
|
|
looking for, but he fits the description."
|
|
"Do you know his name?" Dargon asked.
|
|
"That I do know, milord. I keep records of every sale and purchase
|
|
I make," the merchant replied. Then smiling, said, "Just so I get the
|
|
taxes right."
|
|
"Just so," Dargon smiled. "What is his name?"
|
|
"I'll have to look in my records, milord. I don't remember his name
|
|
as I just met him. I remember faces, but not names. If I may look --"
|
|
"Yes, look," Dargon agreed. The merchant searched through several
|
|
sheets of parchment, turning them over and around. There was writing all
|
|
over the parchment; some in the corner, some scribbled over others, but
|
|
very little space was left free.
|
|
"Here it is. Samual Gathaelis, from Magnus. He is staying somewhere
|
|
just outside of town. One of my delivery boys can guide you there. They
|
|
made a delivery not too long ago."
|
|
"We do appreciate your help," Dargon said. He asked if there were
|
|
any other matters to be decided, but no one spoke up. He concluded the
|
|
meeting and sent them away, except for the merchant. "Lieutenant
|
|
Taishent, Captain Koren, I expect you to use discretion. Have the
|
|
merchant's delivery boys show you where to go. But I want to know one
|
|
way or another about this matter as soon as possible."
|
|
Jerid and Koren both acknowledged the matter, making sure that
|
|
neither spoke at the same time. Bartol held his laughter in check as the
|
|
two left with the merchant.
|
|
"They'll never admit it, but they're more alike than not," Bartol
|
|
said.
|
|
"Yes," Dargon agreed, smiling. "And they'd both go out of their way
|
|
to prove they aren't alike." Clifton Dargon absently moved both arms to
|
|
help himself out of the chair, until he realized that his left arm below
|
|
the elbow was gone. He sighed as he stood. "I don't think I'll ever get
|
|
used to it being gone."
|
|
"Maybe one day," Bartol suggested.
|
|
"Maybe ... but not today. No, today has been far too serious. I'll
|
|
provide the wine," Dargon said, changing the subject, "if you provide
|
|
some songs."
|
|
"Done," Bartol agreed, and the two left the room.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Deliverance
|
|
Praeludium
|
|
by John Doucette
|
|
<jdoucette@ns.sympatico.ca>
|
|
|
|
I
|
|
|
|
In the Spring of 1012 B.Y., the Beinison Empire was looking to
|
|
expand. For centuries, the Empire had been continuously increasing its
|
|
holdings bit by bit until, by 1012, it had become one of the premier
|
|
powers on the continent.
|
|
Now, Untar II, Beinison's newest, and youngest, Emperor, decided
|
|
the time was right for Beinison to make a bid for absolute and
|
|
undisputed mastery of northwestern Cherisk and from there go on to
|
|
dominate the entire continent. To do this, Untar would have to conquer
|
|
or otherwise control the Kingdom of Baranur and the Galician Empire.
|
|
Untar and his advisors quietly began sending agents into both of
|
|
Beinison's larger neighbours, having already ruled out any action
|
|
against the tiny kingdoms of Lederia and Comarr as an unwarranted
|
|
diversion of resources. The information coming out of Galicia was sparse
|
|
and unreliable. Many agents failed to return and those that did barely
|
|
managed even that. The Galicians had closed their borders some centuries
|
|
before and were, apparently, very determined to maintain the current
|
|
state of affairs. Untar's agents in Baranur, however, reported much
|
|
different results. The information flowing into Untar's Summer Palace in
|
|
Cabildo was both exhaustive and accurate. Untar and his inner circle
|
|
decided that Baranur would be dealt with first before turning Beinison's
|
|
attention to the problem of Galicia.
|
|
As Autumn, 1012, approached, Beinisonian agents were slowly making
|
|
their way north, for it was in Baranur's Northern Marches that Untar had
|
|
detected just the right kind of weakness he could exploit. The Northern
|
|
Marches were sparsely populated and, more importantly, far from Magnus,
|
|
Baranur's capital. As well, the people of the Northern Marches were not
|
|
particularly war-like, the last serious conflict to occur there being
|
|
the fighting in the Great Houses War nearly a century-and-a-half ago.
|
|
This was in sharp contrast to the Southern Marches, long a target for
|
|
Beinisonian raids.
|
|
Untar's agents sought out those whose ambition and desire for
|
|
wealth or power outweighed their loyalty to King and Country. One such
|
|
was Baron Coranabo, a minor lord with holdings in the Duchy of Kiliaen
|
|
very near to the Barony of Shipbrook in Duchy Dargon. Coranabo had long
|
|
coveted the now-vacant Coronet of the Barony of Shipbrook, and the
|
|
agents of Beinison offered money and the promise of more land should
|
|
Coranabo work for Beinison against Baranur.
|
|
Coranabo agreed and together with Untar's agents, set about a
|
|
campaign to destabilize Duchy Dargon sufficiently that a power struggle
|
|
in the north, possibly even outright warfare, would erupt, distracting
|
|
King Haralan's attentions from his southern border.
|
|
While this was going on, Untar summoned his generals and admirals
|
|
to him in Cabildo. There, he informed his officers that the Beinison
|
|
Empire would undertake a concerted effort to conquer Baranur by force of
|
|
arms and that this would begin in the Summer of 1014, perhaps as early
|
|
as Autumn, 1013, and that he, the Emperor, wished to have a plan for
|
|
such a campaign presented to him as soon as possible.
|
|
By early 1013, Untar's agents had sufficiently infiltrated
|
|
Baranur's Northern Marches that the second part of the plan to
|
|
destabilize Duchy Dargon could proceed. Also at this time, Untar's
|
|
generals had come back to their Emperor with a plan as bold and
|
|
audacious as it was simple: Baranur would be subjected to a two-pronged
|
|
attack, the main effort in the south with a strong diversion/raid in the
|
|
north. The exact details had yet to be worked out, but Untar gave his
|
|
approval and the armies of Beinison began to quietly mobilize.
|
|
|
|
II
|
|
|
|
Events now began to move rapidly forward as Untar's agents put the
|
|
second phase of their plan to destabilize Duchy Dargon in motion. An
|
|
attempt to assassinate Duke Dargon as Winter drew to a close was a
|
|
partial success. Though the Duke was not harmed, nor was the secondary
|
|
target of the assassins, in the confusion of the botched assassination
|
|
attempt's aftermath, Beinisonian agents were able to plant documents
|
|
indicating that Duke Dargon, then in the midst of a dispute with King
|
|
Haralan over taxes, had been in contact with agents of the Beinison
|
|
Empire and was prepared to sell-out to Beinison.
|
|
This fabricated evidence was "discovered" with the "aid" of Baron
|
|
Coranabo and, in the Summer of 1013, Duke Dargon was summoned to Magnus
|
|
to be tried before the King on the charge of treason. The evidence was
|
|
discovered to be false by Baron Luthias Connall, the prosecutor, and
|
|
that not only was the evidence false, but that Baron Coranabo had been
|
|
working for Beinison all along.
|
|
The trial turned into a Council of State, called by King Haralan to
|
|
determine what action, if any, should be taken against Beinison. As this
|
|
Council got underway, Baron Connall (now newly-created Count) was sent
|
|
to Beinison as Ambassador with instructions to negotiate and attempt to
|
|
puzzle out Beinison's true intentions towards Baranur.
|
|
By late Autumn, 1013, the Council had dead-locked on the issue of
|
|
whether or not to take action. The Knight Commander of the Armies, Sir
|
|
Edward Sothos, head of the Royal Army, argued, surprisingly, against a
|
|
military response. He knew the Kingdom was in no state to take on
|
|
Beinison.
|
|
All debate was closed, however, when Untar sent an Ambassador to
|
|
Haralan bearing the head of Luthias Connall as Untar's answer to what he
|
|
thought of bringing the crisis to a peaceful conclusion. Haralan ordered
|
|
a War Council to be struck at once and all through the long winter, the
|
|
Council debated, and, in a session marked by an assault on the
|
|
Ambassador from Galicia by political enemies at home that left several
|
|
guards dead and the Ambassador fled, the decision was taken to go to war
|
|
and to attack Beinison in the Summer of 1014.
|
|
During the Winter, Baranur's Knight Commander, Sir Edward, began
|
|
sending more and more troops south to meet the threat posed by the
|
|
armies of Beinison. At full mobilization, Baranur could field 114,000 to
|
|
Beinison's 120,000, a figure which gave Sir Edward confidence that
|
|
Beinison would not be able to defeat Baranur with such a small margin of
|
|
difference.
|
|
Baranur's strength was deceptive, however. Her standing army
|
|
numbered 42,000, not counting the troops the various nobles could raise
|
|
on short notice. The Militia, which comprised 50,000 troops, could be
|
|
raised fairly quickly, but the quality of the troops varied widely, from
|
|
the battle-hardened and competent Militias along Baranur's border with
|
|
Beinison to the very green and untested Militias of the Northern
|
|
Marches. An additional 10,000 troops could be mustered within a few
|
|
weeks of an emergency by recalling discharged veterans to the colours,
|
|
but these troops, too, would take time to get re-accustomed to life
|
|
under the war-banner. Even given these obstacles, Sir Edward felt
|
|
confident that all his troops would be fully trained and ready to fight
|
|
by Summer.
|
|
Unbeknownst to Sir Edward, Untar had already set in motion the
|
|
machinery of invasion. Untar's generals had refined their earlier plan
|
|
of attack. One hundred thousand of Beinison's one hundred-twenty would
|
|
be hurled at Baranur as soon as the snow began to melt from the roadways
|
|
and the ice began to break up on the sea. Beinison would not wait for
|
|
the traditional Summer campaigning season.
|
|
|
|
III
|
|
|
|
As the violent storms of late Winter and early Spring coming in off
|
|
the Valenfaer Ocean began to lessen both in frequency and strength,
|
|
35,000 soldiers of the Beinison Empire, including Beinison's famed elite
|
|
Light Infantry Regiments, boarded ship and, escorted by the bulk of the
|
|
Beinisonian navy, headed north.
|
|
At the same time, 65,000 troops, among them the feared Knights of
|
|
the Star, crossed the Baranur-Beinison border all the way from the tiny
|
|
kingdoms of Lederia and Comarr, perched ever-so-precariously between
|
|
Baranur, Beinison, and Galicia, to the Valenfaer Ocean, driving the
|
|
unprepared and scattered Baranurian forces before them.
|
|
In position facing them were the 20,000 troops under command of the
|
|
Knight Captain of the Southern Marches, Dame Martis Westbrook. During
|
|
the Winter, Sir Edward had stripped the garrisons of the Northern
|
|
Marches to send to Dame Martis the reinforcements he knew she would need
|
|
for the planned attack on Beinison that coming Summer. Winter, 1014, was
|
|
the coldest, most brutal Winter in living memory and movement in the
|
|
deep snows and bitter cold had been near-impossible. The result was that
|
|
when the Beinison invasion force crossed the border, the majority of the
|
|
15 Regiments, 15,000 troops, sent south by Sir Edward were not yet
|
|
half-way to the border, forcing Dame Martis to deploy her available
|
|
forces in a thin screen that only served to delay the advance of the
|
|
Beinisonians.
|
|
Sir Edward, accompanied by the Royal High Magist, Lord Marcellon,
|
|
hurried south as best he could through the Spring mud in order to make a
|
|
first-hand assessment of the developing situation. Upon arriving at Dame
|
|
Martis' field headquarters near a small crossroads town called Oron's
|
|
Crossroads, Sir Edward went into deep conference with Dame Martis and
|
|
immediately issued orders for the activation of all Militia Regiments
|
|
throughout Baranur. He also sent word to the local Dukes requesting that
|
|
they make haste to Dame Martis' headquarters without delay with as many
|
|
troops as they could muster on short notice. As well, Sir Edward sent
|
|
word to Magnus that the Royal Hussars, Baranur's elite heavy horse,
|
|
should make immediate preparations to move south, a clear indication of
|
|
the seriousness of the crisis.
|
|
It was at this time that a man, by his dress a noble of high rank,
|
|
was brought into the headquarters in a state of near-total collapse and
|
|
close to death. Marcellon examined the man, practicing his healer's art
|
|
to try and save the poor unfortunate. It was during this examination
|
|
that Lord Marcellon discovered, to his utter shock, that the man before
|
|
him was none other than Count Luthias Connall.
|
|
Luthias told a tale of being imprisoned, drugged, and tortured. The
|
|
"head" that those at the War Council thought was his was, in reality, a
|
|
magical construct of Beinison's feared mage, the powerful Mon-Taerleor,
|
|
like Lord Marcellon, a former student of Styles, one of the greatest
|
|
magicians of the age. Luthias also imparted information he had overheard
|
|
about the Beinisonian invasion plans. What he related spelled potential
|
|
disaster for Baranur.
|
|
Luthias told Sir Edward that 35,000 troops, the very same ones that
|
|
had boarded ship at Cabildo just as the invasion rolled across the
|
|
border, were headed north under large escort. Their objective was to
|
|
land at the mouth of the Laraka River, a vital economic and
|
|
communications lifeline with Magnus, and to march on the capital, hoping
|
|
to take the city before sufficient force could be brought to bear to
|
|
stop them. What Luthias did not know was that the Beinisonian force was
|
|
to spilt into one group of 20,000, which would march on Magnus, and a
|
|
smaller group of 15,000, which would sail for Dargon City and use the
|
|
city as a base from which to conquer the disorganized Northern Marches.
|
|
|
|
IV
|
|
|
|
Sir Edward hurried north, fast messengers preceding him, ordering
|
|
the Hussars to turn 'round and make for Magnus with all speed. He also
|
|
sent word of the impending attack on the North to the King, asking that
|
|
the King order the forces of the various nobles in the Northern Marches
|
|
to send what force they could to the aid of Knight Captain Sir Ailean of
|
|
Bivar, who now prepared to face the coming invasion at Shark's Cove, a
|
|
port at the mouth of the Laraka, with just over five thousand men.
|
|
Knight Captain Sir Ailean, meanwhile, drew up his tiny force at
|
|
what he determined was the most probable landing site for the
|
|
Beinisonian force, a stretch of beach just north of Shark's Cove. There
|
|
he was joined by Lord Morion and a group of five hundred former students
|
|
from Lord Morion's warrior school.
|
|
As the Beinisonian invasion force approached, the Baranurian Fleet
|
|
of the North, aided by the majority of the Laraka River Flotilla,
|
|
sortied in an attempt to stop the Beinisonians. The attempt was a
|
|
failure. Losses were high on both sides. The Baranurians were
|
|
annihilated and the Beinisonian invasion force landed in safety.
|
|
Knight Captain Sir Ailean met the enemy literally at the water's
|
|
edge, his better-armoured troops succeeding, for a time, in holding back
|
|
Beinison's Light Infantry Regiments. Beinison's greater weight of number
|
|
ultimately prevailed, however. Knight Captain Sir Ailean perished
|
|
leading a rearguard while Lord Morion led just over two thousand
|
|
survivors away from the enemy.
|
|
Following the north bank of the Laraka, Lord Morion mercilessly
|
|
forced-marched his troops to Port Sevlyn, a large port-city halfway
|
|
between Shark's Cove and Magnus. There, he attempted to convince the
|
|
Lord Mayor to order the city's two Militia Light Infantry Regiments to
|
|
follow Lord Morion and declare Port Sevlyn an Open City in order to
|
|
spare it from the wrath of the advancing Beinisonians.
|
|
The Lord Mayor refused, saying he could not give up Duke Quinnat's
|
|
home without a fight. He also pointed out to Lord Morion that if the two
|
|
Militia Regiments stayed in the city, the Beinisonians might possibly be
|
|
delayed a day or two, time that Lord Morion could use to reach and
|
|
fortify Gateway Keep, a small military town that commanded the river
|
|
approaches to Magnus. Lord Morion departed with his troops and the
|
|
inexperienced Militia Regiments prepared to meet the enemy.
|
|
Lord Morion had barely departed when the Beinisonians arrived. The
|
|
Beinisonian commander, General Joachim Vasquez, asked for the city's
|
|
surrender, and, when the Lord Mayor refused, ordered four of his best
|
|
Regiments to attack. To everyone's surprise, the Baranurian Regiments
|
|
held off the enemy, though at great cost. General Vasquez attacked again
|
|
and again, reluctant to commit too many of his troops, anxious that his
|
|
force not be reduced too much -- he still had to reach and take Gateway
|
|
Keep and then move on Magnus, all before the enemy could mount an
|
|
effective defence.
|
|
The increasingly-desperate defenders of Port Sevlyn fought as if
|
|
they were possessed, holding off attack after attack for the better part
|
|
of five days. Finally, on the sixth day of the siege, with fewer than
|
|
300 out of 2,000 troops left, the defenders were overrun as Vasquez
|
|
threw his entire force at the Militia Regiments on the city walls.
|
|
Realizing the danger to his mission the delay the six-day siege
|
|
represented and the absolute necessity of avoiding a repetition, General
|
|
Vasquez ordered that half the population of Port Sevlyn be put to the
|
|
sword in order to demonstrate the penalty for resisting the forces of
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the Beinisonian Emperor. After slaughtering 5,000 civilians, Vasquez
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departed after the fleeing Lord Morion, leaving two Regiments in the
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city as a garrison.
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Lord Morion, meanwhile, was busily digging-in outside Gateway Keep.
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Lord Morion and the just-over two thousand survivors of Sir Ailean's
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doomed attempt to stop the Beinisonians from landing, arrived at Gateway
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Keep as the siege of Port Sevlyn was entering its sixth day. Lord
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Morion's troops had just completed a march worthy of note as a feat of
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arms. Ever since the defeat at Shark's Cove, Lord Morion had driven his
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troops with unflagging ruthlessness, covering the 550 leagues to Gateway
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Keep in just over eleven days, an average of 50 leagues a day, an
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accomplishment that elite troops would be hard-pressed to match, much
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less a mostly-green force that had fought and suffered a terrible
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defeat.
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Giving thanks to every deity he could think of, Morion prepared to
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move his troops into Gateway for some well-deserved rest only to find
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that the Keeper would not admit the Royal troops, saying that "this
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conflict does not concern Gateway Keep". Furious, Lord Morion made camp
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|
and began the construction of field fortifications at the only ford
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giving ready access to Gateway Keep. Morion knew his preparations were
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more-than-likely futile, but he was sick of running.
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V
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Morion's troops finished their fortifications certain in the
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|
knowledge that the pursuing Beinisonians were, at best, a day away. Lord
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Morion and the Regimental Commanders did what they could to keep up
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their troops' morale and determination to hold the enemy as long as
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|
possible.
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|
The Baranurians waited three days before their enemy made his
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|
appearance. Once again, the defenders faced the Light Infantry Regiments
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|
of the Beinisonian army, and once again, the Baranurians held the enemy
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|
off, but just barely. When night fell, Morion had lost nearly a third of
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|
his strength. He knew he would not hold his improvised fortifications
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|
for a second day.
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|
As the second day of Morion's desperate stand dawned, things were
|
|
happening inside Gateway Keep that were to prove of tremendous
|
|
importance to those facing the Beinisonians outside. Goren Winston,
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rightful Keeper of Gateway, slipped into the fortress to confront his
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|
brother, Ne'on, who had usurped Goren's place. Goren found Ne'on to be
|
|
possessed by a demon or spirit and was forced to kill his younger
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|
brother so that Goren might thwart the spirit's plan and bring Gateway
|
|
Keep back into the war against the Beinisonians.
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|
Outside on his makeshift fortifications, Morion had committed the
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|
last of his reserves and knew that the end was near when the closed
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|
gates of the keep opened. Morion tried to conduct an orderly withdrawal
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|
but his troops, who had faced deepest adversity for so long, finally
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|
cracked. Almost as one, the entire defending force broke and ran for the
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inviting safety of Gateway's stone walls. The Beinisonians, their
|
|
discipline intact, pursued the fleeing Baranurians. Barely one thousand
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|
survived to gain the protection of the walls.
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|
For the next three days, the garrison, augmented by the remnants of
|
|
Morion's force, held the enemy off as Gateway was slowly pounded to
|
|
rubble by the siege engines Vasquez had brought up the Laraka by ship.
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|
On the third day, what was left of the defenders were preparing for the
|
|
final stages of the siege when the Hussars, all eight Regiments, and a
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|
small contingent of samurai from Bichu, arrived from the south under the
|
|
command of the new Knight Captain of the Northern Marches, Luthias
|
|
Connall.
|
|
Connall quickly formed his Regiments and threw all eight thousand
|
|
heavy horse at the surprised Beinisonians. Nearly half the enemy force
|
|
fell victim to the long, killing lances of the Hussars before Vasquez
|
|
could affect a retreat.
|
|
Connall pursued the retreating Beinisonians all the way to Shark's
|
|
Cove, where he forced Vasquez to do battle. At the same time as Connall
|
|
was arriving at Shark's Cove, the Baranurian and Beinisonian navies were
|
|
nearing the small port at the Laraka's mouth, the Beinisonians intent on
|
|
rescuing their expeditionary force, the Baranurians just as intent on
|
|
preventing such a rescue.
|
|
The battle, when it occurred, lasted nearly all day, on land and at
|
|
sea. The warships of the two navies savaged each other, dozens of ships
|
|
and hundreds of sailors vanishing beneath the waves. On land, the
|
|
desperate defenders held off attack after furious attack while the
|
|
Beinisonian transports began loading troops.
|
|
Finally, his line threatening to break, the Baranurian navy
|
|
endangering the transports, Vasquez called a halt to the evacuation and
|
|
sailed for home. Seeing this, the Baranurian navy made one last attempt
|
|
to crack the Beinisonian line. The remnants of the Beinisonian fighting
|
|
navy gallantly put themselves in harm's way to allow the transports to
|
|
escape.
|
|
The battle came to an end, on land and at sea, when Duke Dargon's
|
|
flagship and the Beinisonian flagship became locked in battle. The Duke
|
|
was severely wounded and fell overboard. He was rescued and eventually
|
|
recovered, though the healers were forced to remove his badly-injured
|
|
forearm. The Duke's flagship defeated the enemy flagship and, upon
|
|
seeing this, the Beinisonian navy's resolve faltered and the remnants
|
|
fled for home along with the transports. The Beinisonian troops left on
|
|
shore fought on for a few bells more until, at sunset, stranded and
|
|
facing destruction, the survivors surrendered.
|
|
|
|
VI
|
|
|
|
The immediate crisis on the Laraka was over. Magnus was safe, for a
|
|
time, a very brief time, for Sir Edward had received word that a huge
|
|
army under the direct command of Emperor Untar II himself was
|
|
approaching the Crown City. The Knight Commander of the Armies sent
|
|
messengers speeding throughout the kingdom, summoning all who could
|
|
quickly reach Magnus to the capital's defence.
|
|
An army of nearly 20,000 gathered at the capital, preparing to meet
|
|
the enemy. The enemy they found, however, was not the Beinisonians. For
|
|
many months, political maneouverings had been underway to get Sir
|
|
Edward, a Galician, removed as Knight Commander. Most vocal in his
|
|
opposition to Sir Edward was Duke Northfield, the most powerful of the
|
|
Great Houses. King Haralan resisted the pressure until, with the bulk of
|
|
the Beinisonian army bearing down on Magnus, Northfield threatened to
|
|
take his troops out of the army if he was not given command of the
|
|
defence of the Crown City. Knowing that Northfield would take not only
|
|
his personal troops but those of other nobles as well, Haralan
|
|
reluctantly assented to placing Northfield over Sir Edward.
|
|
The Baranurians met the enemy on several leagues outside Magnus.
|
|
Outnumbered two-to-one and out-generalled, the Baranurians were
|
|
hard-pressed. The end came when Northfield, seeing his flank turned,
|
|
panicked and fled with his troops. Sir Edward took charge and managed to
|
|
salvage the situation by getting the bulk of the army away from the
|
|
field and to Magnus. Severely weakened, Magnus' defenders manned the
|
|
walls and prepared for a siege.
|
|
Not long after the disastrous attempt to meet the enemy outside
|
|
Magnus' walls, Connall reached the Crown City with the Hussars and as
|
|
many foot soldiers as he could muster. These reinforcements brought the
|
|
defenders' numbers almost up to what they had been before Northfield's
|
|
debacle. Even so, Sir Edward did not hold out much hope. He did not have
|
|
nearly enough men to properly defend fortifications as large as Magnus'
|
|
and moreover, the city was split by the Laraka.
|
|
Untar's army arrived at Magnus and made camp. The Emperor was
|
|
making his final preparations for the assault on Magnus. Untar knew that
|
|
he could not simply throw his army at the walls, for, undermanned as
|
|
Magnus' fortifications were, the city would be a tough nut to crack.
|
|
Thus it stands. A Beinisonian army in the heart of Baranur with a
|
|
battle and the fate of a kingdom to be decided ...
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
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