A Land Torn
“What’s the matter? My establishment not good enough for your kind?” Brounn’s sharp tone made the man jump.
“No, it’s not that... Well actually now that you mention it, this place is filthy. There should be a law about feeding people in a dump like this.” After the initial apologetic sound the under captain took on a louder voice that reinforced the authority of his station to the dozen sets of eyes that look in his direction. Even the drunkest customers hurriedly returned the majority of their attention to what was directly in front of them.
“No one insults me in my own business!” Brounn growled at the soldier. It wouldn’t do to let a stranger get an edge on him. Even though only a word from the captain could send him to the dungeons Brounn wouldn’t look like a pushover. Brounn knew that it wouldn’t take much to gather a few of the more sober patrons to his side should the soldier prove unruly. The chancellor was not much loved in these parts.
“It’s just a little disappointing. Not what I had expected.”
“Then get out if you don’t like it or buy something if you want to stay.” Brounn watched the soldier closely.
“Fine.” A silver coin clattered on the counter. “Can I get a glass of that fine red wine?” Brounn would have rather thrown the soldier out than serve him but the choice was not his. A silver would have bought a whole bottle of the red wine he had so the pewter mug he poured was a little fuller than usual. The soldier sniffed the mug and grimace. A prudent sip followed with a deeper grimace.
“This is a far cry from the best red let alone being called a good wine. Waste of a silver.”
“I didn’t say it was the best or even a good vintage. I said it was the best I got from a local vineyard. Besides what did you expect?” Brounn started the soldier in the eye.
“I see. You should change your supplier before you poison your customers. Can I get change for my silver?”
“Don’t have any. If you didn’t mean to spend so much you should have just given a hand of coppers like everyone else.” The soldier looked a little crestfallen before glancing around the room. He doubted that the patrons had more than a couple silvers in coppers between them. There was sure to be a sack of copper behind the counter from the many “hands” of coppers. Five coppers was still a steep price to charge for the watery pink fluid in his mug so he slid it towards a dejected looking drunk down the counter. The drunk accepted the donation to his inebriation with a toothless smile and set to the task of draining the mug to its dredges.
“I spent my last copper paying a thieving brat to lead me to this place. Turns out I was standing opposite your establishment and had mistaken it for a heap of used lumber instead of the fine ale house it is.” The under captain rested his elbows on the counter.
“If you don’t want anything to drink or eat, what are you doing here?” Brounn crossed his arms atop his belly and scowled.
“I told you. I want to talk to you in private. That or I can continue insulting you out here.” Brounn lifted a corner of his mouth in a sneer at the reply.
“What do you have to say that can’t be said out here?” Brounn was unwilling to appear to comply with any demand the soldier made.
“You aren’t going to make it easy for me. What else do I have to say about your dismal establishment before you either throw me out or let me talk to you in private?” The soldier shrugged.
“And what could you say that would let me give you the latter instead of the former.” Brounn thought to himself that this soldier was acting rather strangely for someone accustomed to being able to demand their own way.
“Oh let me see. Oh I got a good one.” With a louder voice the soldier continued. “That wine I tasted was at least half cut with river water. Not even the seediest taverns I’ve been in cut their wine more than a quarter.” Brounn narrowed his eyes and scanned the other patrons. Most were too inebriated to understand what was being said and the others were pointedly minding their own business.
“I'm closer to throwing you out on your ear bastard.” Brounn threatened ominously. The soldier only made a clicking sound with his tongue before replying.
“I don’t care how true that is, Brest would still roll in his grave if he heard you talk about him like that.” More clicking sounds followed this startling revelation. Brounn was taken aback for a second before he recovered himself.
“This way.” Brounn made his way around the counter and to the back of the room with surprising speed considering the man’s bulk.
“I was wondering how far I would have to go before you agreed to talk to me.” The soldier dropped himself into one of the chairs once Brounn had closed the door.
“So you are telling me that you are Brest’s son?” Brounn remained standing for a moment before taking a seat himself.
“Bastard is how you phrased it before but yes he was my father.”
“You don’t have any of his likeness. Why should I believe you?” Brounn scrutinized the lines of the soldier’s face. He shared Brest’s high cheek bones but not the brown eyes or straight black hair. Instead the young man had fine wavy tan hair and deep green eyes in a longer face.
“No, I always took after my mother in looks.” The soldier popped his wrist casually.
“Hmm, be that as it may, what is a telepath doing working for the chancellor?” Brounn wasn’t convinced yet. The soldier on the other hand had a turn at being startled.
“Telepath? Why would you think I'm a telepath?” The soldier sat up in his seat.
“Brest was. It stands to reason you might be. I still don’t trust you. I don’t even know your name.” Brounn wasn’t afraid of making his opinion known.
“No of course not. I haven’t given you my name yet. It sounds like I took after mother in more than just looks. Anyway, my name is Enthack. Under captain Enthack. I already told you who my father was and I would rather not tell who my mother is.” Brounn noted the present tense used to describe Enthack’s mother.
“So she is still alive?” Enthack faltered for a moment before responding to Brounn’s inquiry.
“Not necessarily. There are other reasons I might not want to let you know who she was.” Enthack was a little flustered. Brounn noted the change in tense and noted to himself that this Enthack was not stupid.
“No matter. You were saying something?”
“Yes I was something about... Oh yes. When I was nearly ten Brest died but before that time he told me stories about working with you and the Asgare. He kept telling me that the Asgare wasn’t the evil assassin we hear about. He told me one day the Asgare would return. I vowed to be ready when the Asgare returned and have been preparing myself since that time.” Brounn threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes.
“No I know that you are Brest’s spawn. As much an incurable optimist as he. I didn’t realize that there could be two in the land until now.” Enthack flushed and scowled.
“What! They never found Ice Heart.”
“Not that I know anything about what you are talking about but they found the Asgare dead from his injuries and dressed in his equipment. He was a hunted man and probably lost the sword in his flight.” Brounn stood up laboriously.
“What they found was a dead body burnt beyond recognition. It could have been anyone.” Enthack also stood up.
“I don’t have time to listen to such nonsense. Get out of here.” Brounn made his way to the door. No matter who this person was, it didn’t matter if he couldn’t be trusted.
“The Asgare is still alive and right now he is somewhere in the Draeld Swamps. Reigns knows and is sending me with a dispatch to the commander in the Forks ordering him to turn out half his garrison into the swamps to find the Asgare.” Brounn’s back straightened and his hand froze on the latch.
“But of course you already know that he is alive don’t you.” Enthack continued. Brounn cursed under his breath how perceptive the young man was.
“How do you know this?” Brounn disciplined his face into a blank mask before turning back a
round.
“You don’t get it do you? I want to work for him like my father did. I don’t care what the risks are. I have been preparing for this my whole life. I’m a courier for the chancellor. I can do a lot for the Asgare.” Enthack was standing with a pleading expression.
“Why are you telling me this?” Brounn was thinking as fast as he could but there was no way that he could think of that might yet conceal his identity. Enthack knew too much and could have just had him arrested without playing this charade. On the other hand if the man was telling the truth then this might be the chance that Brounn had been waiting for of getting access to the chancellor’s network.
“Are you deaf or daft? I'm just a courier. I have been trying my hardest to think of some way to change the message or a way to avoid delivering it. If I could I would. Everything I can think of would reveal my duplicity and I would lose my head. If it comes to that I would but I hoped that you would have another idea.” Enthack sank back into the chair. “Please, you have to believe me. The Asgare’s life is in danger.”
“Do you have the dispatch on you?” Brounn swept a selection of dirty dishes off the table and took a seat opposite of Enthack.
“Of course I do.” Enthack’s expression lit up as he pulled the folded parchment from a satchel that hung at his side. Brounn turned the sealed dispatch in his hands and examined it.
“I take it that this seal is part of the problem?” Brounn squinted a little as he looked at the fine design imprinted into the wax.
“It’s the chancellor's personal seal. Only he has it and can’t be re fixed if the seal is broken without the chancellor's signet ring which never leaves his finger. He sends two copies of each dispatch with two separate couriers on different routes in case an accident happens. If the seal is broken or the contents altered then I would be betrayed.” Enthack explained and showed Brounn his own seal. It was a ring around an oak leaf with a stylized “E” in the center of the leaf.
“Each courier and contact have their own unique seal. This is supposed to prevent people from tampering with the letters.”
“How do you know what is inside this dispatch?” Brounn was still examining the dispatch.
“Some of them you can open a little and see some of what is inside but others have the edges folded over the writing before it gets folded for sealing and you can’t read those. Sometimes you can hold them up to the light and make out what they say if the parchment is thin enough. I couldn’t read this one but the chancellor gave me this one and as I was leaving I overheard him tell the other courier that the Asgare wasn’t going to be hiding in the Draeld for long with half a garrison hunting him.”
“Hmm, we will have to hurry if we want this one to arrive ahead of the other courier.” Brounn thought for a minute.
“Don’t worry about the other courier. His horse is probably lame by now from the nail I put in its hoof and there aren’t any replacements on his route. You actually want this delivered?” Enthack queried.
“As you said, there is no way around this. What can be done is change where the soldiers will be looking.” Brounn handed the dispatch back.
“How are you going to do that?” Enthack was a little puzzled.
“You are going to do it. Don’t worry about your neck. It should remain attached to your head but you need to do exactly as I tell you. First you need to go to the cobbler near the square in the center of town. The one with the old sign out front. Not the one with the new sign. Tell him that you need a toy made for an old friend. He will know I sent you. Tell him that you need a copy of a signet ring made from a seal. Show him yours and the dispatch. When he has what he needs then go south by way of the Vaulwar road and stop in Alerad. Tell the innkeeper of the Red Steed the shadows are alive and that the Gargoyle says a man with green eyes and black hair was seen with a blond blue eyed lad going north. When he writes the letter deliver it to the commander in The Forks. That should send the soldiers to the west instead of the south. There is nothing over there but dragons so it shouldn’t do any harm.”
“Old Morbur works for you too?” Enthack had listened to the plan with surprised expression and asked when Brounn had finished.
“He sends me letters every now and then. A few years ago he asked me what to do after he had been approached as an informant for the chancellor. I told him to accept. I get a copy of everything he sends to the chancellor.” Brounn sat back
“Thanks for trusting me. I will do exactly what you told me to.” Enthack stood up and prepared to leave.
“I don’t trust you yet. Trust has to be earned. It isn’t inherited. I shouldn’t need to warn you that the Asgare has escaped armies in the past and is more than capable of hunting you down and eliminating you should you betray him. By the way don’t come back here again. Soldiers aren’t seen often in this part of town. If you need to contact me let the cobbler know. He should have a seal available for you next time you pass through Warton. Bring him as many seals from the other informants and commanders as you can.”
“Do you have a back door that I can leave by?” Enthack didn’t seem ruffled by the threat.
“Second plank to the right of the cabinet will let you out into an alley by the street next to this. Brounn watched Enthack leave before getting to his feet. He hoped that the young man was as intelligent as he seemed. The nail in the other horse hoof was a stroke of genius if executed properly. Enthack needed as much of a lead as possible if he was going to be able to succeed. The evening was just falling when he felt the familiar tickling at the edge of his consciousness that meant Emeck was trying to make contact. The lad had talent but hadn’t developed skill yet so the communication was one way only and Brounn was fairly shouting the message in his mind before the sensation departed.
Chapter Fifteen
“Draceros, I'm sorry to have to tell you this. Nyet and I have taken a liking to you but...” Peren paused as he searched for the right words.
“If that is a problem I can stay away from Nyet.” Cero interrupted the awkward pause.
“That is not what I mean. It’s just that...”
“That the rest of Skelceri doesn’t like me being here. I understand. I'm a stranger and they aren’t used to strangers.” Cero felt a pit forming in his stomach. He had enjoyed the relative safety that the village provided but had always been unnerved by the suspicious glances he met on almost every face.
“I really am sorry. If I had a say in the matter then you would be welcome to stay. The council of elders called a meeting yesterday.” Peren’s expression showed that he was indeed feeling badly about the whole affair.
“I know that I am a stranger and all but what exactly what are they worried about?” Cero was intimidated by these people and couldn’t imagine what they might have to fear by his presence.
“It’s complicated. One reason was that when we first sensed you it was like a beacon for any of our kind. They are afraid that somehow you might betray us to the King if it happens again. Another was what was happening before you woke. I don’t know exactly how to describe it. You spoke in the old tongue and wandered. Not physically. We could sense your energy sometimes in your body and other times somewhere else. Somewhat like what we shadow walkers do but you were doing it during the day. Then there is the fact that no shadow walker can come within a few feet of you without being returned to their body. On top of that there have been several groups of soldiers who have been ranging through the Draeld wilderness searching. We even believe that there is one or two people who have been able to hide themselves from our shadows. Campsites with fires are found without any people. The council is inclined to fear things that they can’t explain so they want you to leave.” Peren finished his explanation with a sad smile.
“I don’t remember any of it. I wish I knew what I am so I could control it then I wouldn’t be a danger. Do you have any idea where I should go? I'm hunted everywhere north of the swamps.” Cero contemplated his options.
“There are the outlands. They a
re usually isolated from most events in the Braebach.” Cero knew what Peren was talking about. The outlands was a strip of coastal land east of the Garoche Mountains that was not good for more than grazing livestock. Several small fishing communities dotted the coast. As long as they paid their taxes they weren’t often touched by the events of the Midlands.
“How should I get there?” Cero had heard horror stories about the dangers met in the Badlands and the Sand Sea.
“There really are only two ways to get to the outlands from here. The maps that I have seen indicate that the easiest way would be to go around the north end of the Garoche Mountains but that isn’t really an option for you. The other two options are to skirt the mountains at the Badland’s northern edge or to follow the coast around the Sand Sea. Neither option is a good option. The first route is infested with dangerous land and bandits. The other one has little to offer in the way of drinkable water. You would need to carry a half dozen water skins and stock up at every fresh water source you come across. To tell the truth, I wouldn’t advise either one.”
“I think I would rather avoid running into anyone. How many people might I run across by following the coast?” Cero recalled his several unhappy meetings throughout his flight.
“I have heard that the only people that are likely to be seen are occasional fishing vessels. Everything in the Sand Sea will either sting, bite or perforate you so people tend to avoid the region. There are a couple springs that drain into the ocean that can be used for water along the way. You will have to pass through the main part of the swamps that way though.” Peren furrowed his brow as he thought about the dangers presented.
“I think I will go around the Sand Sea. I can leave tomorrow morning if that is alright.” Cero resigned himself to what he had been expecting for the last few days since waking up.
“I wish you the best of fortune and pray that the shadows will always be kind to you.”
*****
With the new light of the morning Cero left Skelceri behind him. Peren had provided him with a sturdy pack and all the water skins that could be spared. On top of this Cero had been equipped with a hunting knife, an old hunting bow with a couple dozen arrows and enough food to last for weeks if carefully consumed. Cero was now better equipped than before he had lost his possessions when he had been captured by the trackers. The pack was decidedly heavier for the additions but Cero was glad for the kindness that he had been shown.