A Land Torn

  “Tell me why I should believe you?” The officer shifted his weight to his other foot and squinted.

  “Why shouldn’t ya, I ain’t heard of no other reason to go into the Draeld.” Urake chanced a glance at Emeck and almost smiled at the look of complete trust he saw.

  “I don’t know. Something just seems off about you. I can’t put my finger on it.” The officer gave up the squint and tried a scowl.

  “Ya I know, probably just my smell, I'm a little musty. There ain’t been enough clean water to take a bath in the last couple weeks. Part of why we is coming out now. Baths and water to refill out skins. If ya would kindly step out of the way then we could be about that and be back in the Draeld to make our way back north. You could go on doing whatever it is you do down here.” The officer spluttered for a moment before regaining his composure to the muffled snickers of a couple of the men.

  “I say that both you and your boy look old enough to be in the army. We happen to be in need of a scout and your boy looks able enough to help our cook.” Urake maintained his smile. He was now on dangerous ground.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I need to get back north here soon...”

  “You are in the army now soldier, you go where I tell you when I tell you. Is that understood?” The officer was standing in front of Urake looking slightly up into his eyes with a glare.

  “Yes sir, it’s just that my boy can be a little simple sometimes.” Urake glanced away from the man’s face. In a battle of wills Urake was the officer’s better but now was not the time to win a staring match.

  “And you are trying to train him as a hunter? Don’t look to glum. Life in the army isn’t so bad. Your boy can’t much make the food worse than it already is. ” The officer was mollified by his victory over Urake but at his jest there was a complaint from one of the men that was quelled by a glance from the captain. Urake assumed the source of the complaint was the cook that Emeck would be helping. A quick look at the boy revealed that there was a hint of worry on his face. This disappeared after Urake shot a quick smile at him.

  “Alright, we accept your offer. It can’t be any worse than eating snake day in and out.” Urake was sure that the line was immaterial now as the officer turned a couple shades of red and spluttered for a moment.

  “Why you little swamp rat. I ought to have you horse whipped. You get guard duty all night tonight.” The harsh punishment stopped the low laughter but Urake knew that he was not going to be bothered by the men too much. The officer would do what he would do but life would be a measure easier if the men that Urake was going to be working with had an element of respect for him. He hoped that his seemingly innocent comment would be forgotten soon enough by the officer without lasting repercussions. There was however the risk that the men would think him an idiot for being so brash. This also was fine as Urake saw it. It is better to be though an idiot by a soldier than have to deal with the constant suspicion of the commanding officer.

  When night fell Urake was shown a perimeter that he was supposed to keep an eye on and was given a crossbow and a sword. The soldier who was assigned the task of teaching him the basic use these implements of war was mildly surprised to find that Urake was a good shot with the crossbow and was able to put up a respectable defense with the sword. After the man left Urake tucked the sword into his belt and began pacing out the night. He still had his war bow and Ice Heart hidden beneath the cloak and wasn’t willing to reveal their existence as explaining them would require a great deal more effort than he wanted to make.

  A soft drizzle had started when Urake heard soft footsteps coming up behind him. The cheap army sword was held up and level with the ground in one hand and his other hand was resting on Ice Heart’s pommel when he recognized Emeck. The boy was sitting on his rump holding a hand in the air and a bundle in the other.

  “Whistle or snap your fingers a couple times instead of sneaking up like that.”

  “I'm sorry. I wasn’t thinking. The cook wanted you to have this.” Emeck scrambled to his feet and presented the bundle. On unwrapping it Urake discovered that it was a piece of charred meat and some hard bread and cheese.

  “Tell him thanks for me. It wasn’t your fault. To many years hiding has made me edgy.” Urake scraped off the black and began chewing on the meat below. He almost tossed it also because it was nearing the end of its edible life span. “I'm going to have to catch some food here in a bit aren’t I.”

  “Why don’t we leave tonight while everyone is sleeping? It wouldn’t take much to get our stuff and sneak off.” Emeck’s voice had dropped to a whisper that Urake had to lean towards to understand.

  “We could but then every free soldier would be sent out to hunt us down. That would endanger Skeln if he is still in the area. It’s why there aren’t many deserters. Throughout the ranks of the army it is known what the fate of deserters are. Another thing is that there aren’t going to be any tracks left if this rain continues for long. On top of that I have no idea where he might have been heading after crossing the tributary. Until you sense him again I have nothing to go off of.”

  “We were getting so close. I'm sorry I didn’t sense the soldiers. I think it has something to do with their metal helmets. By the way, the captain wants us both to wear them.” Emeck looked downcast and apologetic.

  “Don’t blame yourself, I managed the captain well enough. Skeln has shown himself extremely resourceful and is probably doing well on his own. You should get back before they miss you. I have been in the army a few times in the past so I know how to leave when the time is right.” Emeck trudged back towards the camp and left Urake with his own thoughts.

  If wearing metal helmets was able to help hide a person from a tracker telepath then it might be worth mentioning to Tusul in the future. These soldiers were not outfitted in the usual metal chainmail and plate like one would expect. They had some chainmail but for the most part they wore hardened leather. Urake had heard of the war with the elves in the south but hadn’t expected that the army would have adjusted to compensate for their adversary's speed and mobility. Not that a squad this size would ever stand a chance against an equal number of elves in combat. Their lighter harness did allow them to patrol longer and faster than normal. The only metal armor that they seemed to wear was their helmets.

  Like Urake had told Emeck, there was little hope of finding Skeln’s days old tracks after this rain wore off and even then he really had no idea where the lad could have been going. He might be headed for the badlands or who knows where. There was one place that Urake was certain Skeln would avoid. The sand sea was an inhospitable patch of land that seemed devoid of rain. To the best of Urake’s knowledge any water either fell on the Draeld or was dumped on either side of the desert. It seemed caught in an eddy of hot dry air year around. The trackless wastes covered the bleached bones of many an adventurer.

  For the time being they would have to play the part of loyal soldiers for the Braebach Empire. There was not really any way to escape without endangering either Skeln or Emeck. Urake hoped that Brounn would unearth some new Intel soon.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tusul was busy shading in an aspect a drawing that he was developing. The design was for some new contraption he was attempting to invent. The idea was to improve on the gauntlets by adding a set of blades that would snap out of the sides. The effect would be like that of a couple of spines to be used in close combat. He paused for a moment and pondered the springing and latching mechanism when he heard the bells ringing in the shop below. A moment later Tusul emerged from the garderobe and glanced at Turana who was mending a gown for the magistrate’s wife. She looked tense for some reason. When Tusul rounded the corner he realized why. A fully armored lieutenant was standing examining a shoe that sat on the bench.

  “Tusul the cobbler?” Tusul smiled and nodded as if he frequently had soldiers stop by his shop. He was fearful that his life in the gray part of the law had caught up to him but didn’t betray himself. If this
was a chance meeting then he wanted to avoid any unpleasantness.

  “Yes that would be me. Pardon my asking but doesn’t the army have their own cobblers?” Tusul already knew the answer to that question.

  “Yes I suppose we do. I didn’t come because of shoes. I need to talk to a friend of yours. The Asgare as he is called.” Tusul blinked at the sudden accusation but kept the smile plastered on his face.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to understand. Isn’t the Asgare dead?” Tusul began analyzing the situation. He was sure that someone somewhere had let slip his involvement with the Shadow Reaper. The fact that a dozen soldiers were not crowding into was shop was encouraging. Then again he was only a poor cobbler. Why shouldn’t a fully armored lieutenant be enough to bring one man in?

  “I’m on the King’s business. Don’t stand in my way little man.” The lieutenant let slip enough to tell Tusul that the man did not think him to be any more than a cobbler and that the Asgare was the intended target.

  “I really think that you have me mixed up with someone else. I don’t know this Asgare.” The lieutenant tossed the shoe he had been holding and his hand dropped to the pommel of his sword.

  “Don’t trifle with me. I know exactly who you are. You and your wife. I have orders and you aren’t going to stop me from fulfilling them. I will do what I have to for my King.” Tusul figured that if reinforcements were hiding around the corner they would have showed by now. The lieutenant had mentioned Turana and that was one thing that Tusul wasn’t going to be threatened with.

  “You should have never come here. The Asgare is not the one to trifle with.” Tusul twisted and dashed towards the back room. As he reached the door he pushed on a plank in the wall and turned around. The soldier had just started moving with his heavy armor and was reaching Tusul's throat ominously. The sneer under the helm shifted to surprise as the floor gave way dropping the man in a hole. As sheets of canvas fell over the shop window a green dust exploded out of the hole with muffled curses. Tusul whipped around and yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. He held his ear against the door waiting for the sounds on the other side to die down. Just then a loud resounding clang caused him to nearly leap out of his skin. Turning around Tusul held his back against the door and watched as Turana set the skillet back on the countertop and wiped a stray strand of hair over an ear. On the floor was laying lad in the trappings of a page.

  “I should go get a sleeping draught. We don’t want him waking up and shouting his head off.” Turana glanced back at the page and went to a cupboard and removed a bottle of a powerful sleeping potion. A couple drops were placed in the senseless lad’s mouth before Turana turned back to Tusul and he realized that his mouth was hanging open.

  “I assume that the other one won’t be causing trouble?” Turana went to another cupboard and removed a length of rope.

  “I... uh... No, I mean he should be asleep in a moment or two. I don’t hear him any longer as it is. How did you know about him?”

  “I heard him trip over some firewood right after you went into the front then I overheard some of what was being said and figured that he was up to no good. Do you know either of them?” Turana rolled the page onto his stomach and began tying his wrists behind his back.

  “Not that I know of. The lieutenant seemed to know about me though.” Tusul disappeared into the garderobe and reemerged a minute later with a couple sets of long leather gloves and a silk scarf tied over his nose. Tossing one set of the gloves and a scarf to Turana he opened the door. On the other side a thin layer of the green dust coated most everything. The windows were covered and no sound was coming from the hole in the floor.

  “How long has that been there?” Turana’s voice was muffled through the scarf.

  “Longer than I’ve known you. I rigged it so the supports would collapse after I activated it. It would also drop the curtains over the windows at the same time. They are the same ones that I use when I close the shop and they are thick enough to muffle most noises.”

  “Hmm, are there any other traps that I should be aware of?”

  “Just a few little things accept for the row of dart guns along that wall. If you push that knot hole it would take out everyone standing in the room.” They were standing beside the trapdoor looking down at the motionless lieutenant tangled in the net and covered with the green powder.

  “What is that stuff?” Turana slipped on her set of gloves as she asked.

  “Just a concoction of dragon’s tail and steyr weed. The dragon’s tail has the peculiar effect of inducing paralysis and the steyr weed put him to sleep. He will be asleep for an hour or two at least but he won’t be able to move a finger when he wakes up.” It took them both working together in order to get the lieutenant out of the pit and moved to the back room next to the page. Tusul conferred with Turana for a while as to what to do with them. A search of the lieutenant revealed a dispatch written from a high ranking general to the lieutenant ordering him to make contact with the Asgare.

  “Lieutenant Ildroth, permission has been given to contact the Asgare. Offer a generous retainer and maintain utmost secrecy concerning your mission. Certain individuals must not know of our actions. In Warton is a cobbler by the name of Tusul. He is believed to have been an associate of the Asgare in the past and we have reason to believe that he may now be an active agent. His name and whereabouts were discovered in the possession of a deceased innkeeper. Use extreme caution when dealing with the Asgare. He is to be assumed dangerous.” It was signed only with a note about the name of the King.

  After finding the note Tusul decided that he needed to consult with someone who might want know about the lieutenant. After a thorough search Tusul leaned back on his heels and surveyed the items in his hand. One was a signet ring however it wasn’t in the style of the ones that Reigns utilized. The rest of the items were mundane in character. A couple gold coin recovered from a hidden pocket. A locket containing a few strands of auburn hair and a couple trinkets of no value. What was prominent in its absence was the medallion with the oak under the signet ring.

  *****

  Brounn was in the corner under the single torch counting the coppers he had received in payment for his goods over the course of the day. It was an average day. Half of the proceeds went for the purchase of the food, drinks and the cook’s wages. A higher end establishment would have garnered tips for the waitress so Brounn was forced to pay his waitress more to make up for the lack. It was hard enough to keep anyone working in this environment without the extra incentive. All in all the final proceeds amounted for nearly a gold coin in profit for the day.

  Brounn was just putting the last of the coins in the sack when he heard the door swing open. The sack almost fell from his fingers when he saw the woman step through the doorway. She was dressed as well as anyone could be short of being a noble. Her dress and shawl were not professionally made but had been done with a fine eye for detail and a steady hand. The hat was elaborate and didn’t match with the dress very well but had the appearance of being a prize possession. Everything down to the white embroidered handkerchief held over the woman’s nose told Brounn that here was a woman that wouldn’t normally be seen in proximity to a speck of dust let alone Brounn’s tavern. He realized that his patrons were beginning to appraise the newcomer with curious eyes just as she spied him in the corner. It was almost comical watching the woman hike up her skirts and hold the bleached linen square to her nose as she worked her way over.

  “Excuse me mister... I'm sorry but I don’t think I caught your name sir.” The light afforded by the torch revealed a woman advanced in years.

  “That’s probably because I didn’t throw it.” Brounn was still scrutinizing the visitor and hadn’t formulated an opinion concerning her yet.

  “Oh... I see. Well, the only thing I have is what my husband told me about finding an old friend of his.”

  “Tell me more. Perhaps I can help you find this old friend?” Brounn leaned back in his chair a
nd crossed his arms.

  “Perhaps you can mister Boon. He goes by the name Gargoyle. Dreadful creatures or so I’ve heard.” Brounn almost fell out of his chair at the mention of his code name.

  “You can call me Brounn and shall we continue this conversation in private?” Brounn glanced around to make sure that no one had overheard anything and relaxed a little on seeing that no one was close enough.

  “Land sakes! Do you think that just because I’m a widow that I have no decency?” The woman snatched her handkerchief to her bosom and glared at Brounn aghast. Brounn was caught off guard by the reaction.

  “What? No that wasn’t...” He didn’t have a chance to defend himself as the woman slapped his face and continued the tirade.

  “I come to tell my dead husband’s brother the dreadful news and you treat me like a common whore. Shame on you!” With that the woman spun around and swished out the door leaving Brounn gaping and staring after her. He almost didn’t notice the piece of parchment on the floor where she had been standing. Stooping down to pick it up he heard a couple chuckles from around the room. He silenced them with a glare and left for the privacy of the back room.

  “Dear Sir, forgive me for the commotion that I will have caused by the time you will have read this note. Please allow me to explain myself tonight during the planting festival celebrations. Meet me at the old King’s statue in the gardens.” The finely written message was done in a hand that Brounn could remember perfectly even if it had been fifteen years since he had seen it last. He had never seen the author of those reports in person but now that he had he wasn’t surprised. Why she was in Warton was a mystery that he was definitely going to investigate tonight. Due diligence would be done in the way of safety but she couldn’t have picked a better place to meet. The person who had designed the garden that was in the center of the town had been something of a romantic. The place was a maze of footpaths and isolated alcoves where a degree of privacy was guaranteed.