Steps to Deliverance

by Mark Barber

  “For years I have watched you from afar!” Teynne continued, his voice filled with passion and sincerity. “For a year I traveled by your side to know and understand who you truly are! I have chosen you, my friend! You belong here, with us! Your men are gone, but you have a new family now! You belong here! Trust me! Take my hand, and trust me!”

  Dionne looked up as the demon loomed over him, a clawed hand extended toward him in friendship. Dionne reached out and took it.

  ***

  The outskirts of the town of Torgias seemed little more than a dreary continuation of the drab, rock strewn road that led north from the shores of the Anerian Wash; the gaping inlet of water that cut west inland from the Low Sea of Suan. Ramshackle huts and rickety wooden buildings flanked the broad road, growing in regularity as the two paladins continued the ride north toward the Mountains of Tarkis. Grime covered children played in the path leading up to the town as aging miners watched the riders suspiciously from doorways. A heavy cloud of black hung over the western edge of the town, drifting down from the smelting yard just outside the town boundary. To the east, a motley collection of sails was visible above the high ground from merchant ships that had traveled upriver to trade the precious, valuable wares from the sprawling mining community at the foot of the mountains.

  Tancred looked up at the sky and saw a welcome flash of clear blue through a tear in the drizzly, gray clouds that had followed them for nearly a week now. The detachment had continued to track north after defeating Dionne’s forces, and having paid off a few of the locals, they had even succeeded in finding out that there had been several sighting of Dionne himself, fleeing to the north with a mysterious stranger. Hugh made the decision to send Tancred on ahead to stay on the trail and keep tracking their mark, while the remainder of the force carried out the long, laborious crossing of the Anerian Wash by boat. Accompanied by Orion, just in case they caught up with their man, the two paladins had managed to stay two days ahead of the force until a flood from a collapsed dam had forced them to divert further inland.

  As they rounded a corner in the road, Tancred saw the town wall up ahead; a simple but sturdy construct consisting of a tall wooden wall punctuated with four towers, joining the natural rock walls at either side of a valley. Two guards stood by the gates, both of them standing to attention as the paladins approached.

  “Good evening, Sir Paladin,” the older of the two guards called out, bowing his head respectfully.

  Tancred ignored the titular error he had been addressed with and swung himself down from his saddle.

  “Good evening,” he replied, “we are here on the Hegemon’s business. Go and fetch your guard commander.”

  The aging guard nodded wordlessly before turning on his heel and dashing off through the gates, leaving a tall, lanky guard with a vacant expression alone with the two paladins. Orion vaulted down from his warhorse and led the animal by the reins to stand by Tancred.

  “Now what?” he asked, surveying the surroundings. “This place will be good to resupply our force, at least.”

  “We need to stay on Dionne’s trail,” Tancred replied, “but my concern is getting information. These miners are cut off from the rest of the Hegemony, all the way up here. I think it likely they will see Dionne as a hero rather than a criminal. I doubt we will obtain much assistance here. We need to tread carefully.”

  After a few moments, the guard returned, accompanied by a rotund, middle aged man with a waxed mustache and beard, dressed in a shining breastplate and hurriedly attaching a thick cloak of rich, red velvet as he approached.

  “Welcome to Torgias,” the man said as he approached, the tone of his voice failing to marry up with the sentiments of his words. “I am Vendis, the guard commander. What brings you here?”

  “My name is Tancred of Effisus, Lord Paladin of the Order of the Sacred Ark,” Tancred drew himself up to his full height, content that he was marginally taller than Vendis, “and this is my second, Brother Paladin Orion of Suda. We are tracking a fugitive, under orders from the Duma, sanctioned by the Hegemon himself.”

  Vendis’ brows raised.

  “A certain ex-captain of the legion, one assumes?” he said in a hushed tone, leaning closer. “Be careful in this town, gentlemen. Your quarry is considered quite the hero of the people in these parts. That being said, he has not been to Torgias recently. So, Dionne’s name has reached the ears of the Hegemon?”

  Tancred exchanged a glance with Orion but elected not to follow up on the commander’s query.

  “Our man might not be here, but we believe he is close. Certainly in this area. He is heading north, that much we know for sure. What help can you offer us?”

  “If he is heading north, he will be further inland,” Vendis replied with confidence, “unless he is looking to flee altogether, in which case he would already have made for the coast and will be on a merchant ship by now. You’ll never find him if that is the case. Given his history in the area, however, my prediction would be that he will take to the mountains with his bandits. He seems quite settled here. You would need an army to go up there and dislodge him, though, and there I cannot help you. I can’t spare the men. I have problems of my own.”

  “We are not looking for soldiers, we have enough of those only a day or so behind us,” Tancred continued, “but if we are heading up into the Mountains of Tarkis, we shall need some assistance. Can you spare one man with a good knowledge of the mountain trail?”

  The commander shook his head.

  “I cannot spare a single man, unless you produce documentation giving you the authority to override my authority in this post. But there are other options, better ones, dare I say. Go into town and, if you have the money, I would recommend you hire the service of a woman named Aestelle. She is one of these… adventurers.”

  Vendis practically spat the last word before continuing.

  “There are caves up in those mountains, dozens of networks of old tunnels from centuries past. We get these adventurers turn up here from time to time to make their fortune. They nearly all fail to return quite quickly. But not Aestelle. She has been in this area for about a year now. She’s the best of the lot.”

  “How do I find her?” Tancred asked.

  “She lives quite an extravagant existence in the Trade Wind Inn near the center of town. You’ll know her as soon as you see her. If not, follow the trail of lovesick men trying to catch her attention. Now, obviously, a paladin would never be so base as to be motivated by lust, so I will not insult your integrity by daring to give you advice, but for your soldiers when they do arrive – I strongly recommend treating her with the upmost respect. She is far, far more dangerous than she looks.”

  ***

  The clouds continued to disperse as the sun dipped to touch the horizon, leaving only a scattering of thin sheets of orange-tinted cloud stretched across a sky of darkening azure. Tancred flipped a coin to the stable boy who rushed out excitedly to see the two paladins as they led their horses into the large courtyard in the center of the Trade Wind Inn’s collection of neat buildings.

  “Take good care of these two,” Tancred nodded to the blond haired boy.

  “Thank you, Shining Ones bless you,” Orion smiled warmly to the boy, eliciting an excited nod before he led their warhorses away.

  The inn itself was surrounded by a tall stone wall, curiously of more modern and solid construct than the town walls. The main inn building was two stories high, its upper floor swelling out to overhang the lower floor. The windows to the lower floor glowed a faint orange from the hearth inside, and the sound of laughter and music drifted across the warm evening air. Tancred walked over and hauled open one of the heavy double doors leading in, stepping back as a powerfully built salamander pushed past him, the reptilian creature eyeing the paladins suspiciously before pulling a dark hood up over its long face and walking off toward the stables.

  The interior of the inn was furnished with pristine, expensive looking furniture of oiled, light
wood. A series of alcoves were built around a central bar where the landlord and two women busily served fine wines and exotic ales. Two bards played an intricate duel on their lutes in a far corner by a large, open fire. Perhaps thirty people were crammed into the inn, all dressed in fine clothes and engaged in friendly conversations in small groups. The few nearest the main entrance eyed Tancred warily as he entered; when his bearded, shaven headed comrade walked into the room, it caused half the patrons to fall completely silent.

  Tancred looked over to a trio of merchants on the nearest table who were sharing a bottle of red wine. The three middle-aged men looked back at him nervously.

  “I’m looking for Aestelle,” Tancred said.

  A tall man with a thick, red beard pointed to an alcove on the far side of the bar. Tancred pushed his way through the assembled patrons. The sight of Aestelle caught his breath, despite the warning.

  Five men in the garb of affluent merchant sailors sat in a semi-circle around a single young woman, who leaned back in her chair with one booted foot up on the table in front of her. Noticeably tall and slim, she wore tall boots of black leather over tight leggings of the same material, and a white shirt of rich silk with slits cut along the sleeves to display toned arms. Her face – the most beautiful Tancred had ever seen in his life – was half hidden by cascading hair of platinum blonde, decorated with a few sparse rows of interwoven pearls and exquisitely carved miniature wooden beads of a dozen colors, and intricately woven plats. She fixed Tancred with a sultry stare from her pale blue, almost silver eyes as he approached and held a hand up to silence one of the men opposite her.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” she asked, her clipped accent betraying an expensive education.

  “Aestelle?” Tancred asked, finding his confidence rapidly eroding as he addressed the beautiful young woman.

  “That’s right.”

  “The… guard commander pointed us in your direction. He said you might be able to assist us with a task we have in this area.”

  Aestelle took her foot off the table and crossed her legs, leaning forward to pick up a glass of sparkling, white wine.

  “Go on,” she nodded to the men crowded around her, “business calls.”

  With grunts of frustration, the assembled merchants quickly bid their farewells and left the table. Aestelle nodded to the empty seats opposite her and poured two fresh glasses of wine before sliding them across. Tancred sat down and leaned across the table. Still intoxicated by her beauty, he made the decision to alter the course of the conversation to try to put her on the defensive and gain some amount of control.

  “You are not exactly what I was expecting when I was told to look here for a mountain guide,” he said, his tone deliberately dismissive.

  “I’m terribly sorry to disappoint,” the blonde woman smirked and narrowed her eyes, “but the two of you are equally something of a surprise to me. I grew up on stories of paladins being handsome, dashing sorts. How many times have you had your nose broken?”

  “I have fought in many battles,” Tancred retorted defensively, folding his arms as he felt his face redden.

  “As have I,” the tall woman said dismissively, idly picking at the plaster on the wall behind her, “but I’ve never been hit in the face. That’s just careless. And your ogre? Does it speak?”

  “I speak well enough,” Orion answered gruffly, “and I have been in enough fights to spot an individual who is all talk. Now that we have the insults done and dusted, perhaps you would care to listen to my Brother Paladin?”

  Aestelle winced briefly at Orion’s accusation but recovered her composure so rapidly that Tancred doubted the tall man would have detected the impact of his words.

  “Go on,” Aestelle said, “I am listening.”

  Tancred leaned back and paused for a moment to consider how much the woman needed to know. The musicians on the other side of the room shifted pace to a gentler ballad, immediately changing the atmosphere.

  “We are chasing a fugitive. We are currently scouting ahead of our main force which is a day behind us. Our man has apparently fled to the Mountains of Tarkis. We need to track him and we need a pathway through the mountains for a hundred men, with horses and supplies.”

  “Is that all?” Aestelle laughed sarcastically. “You only want to track a single man across an entire mountain range and move a small army?”

  “Can you do it or not?” Orion snapped.

  “Easy, Ogre,” Aestelle held up one hand with a flash of annoyance in her silvery blue eyes. “You need me more than I need you, so I suggest you keep a lid on those little tantrums.”

  “Can you help us?” Tancred asked.

  Aestelle sat back and took a drink from her wine glass, tapping a clenched fist on her chin pensively.

  “Tracking one man across those mountains is impossible, for anybody,” she finally replied. “I can take you on the route I would go, the fastest across. But there is very little to travel to if one is heading north. Tmoskai, perhaps? Unless your man is on a pilgrimage to Kolosu itself. Perhaps I could assist you better if I knew more about the individual you are looking to bring to justice.”

  Tancred looked across at Orion. The big man shrugged.

  “Dionne,” Tancred said quietly, “we are looking to bring Dionne in to face charges with the Duma.”

  Aestelle’s eyes widened a little at the mention of the name.

  “He’s a dangerous man,” she said seriously, “and he is loved in these lands. Most people in this region would hide him from the Duma’s soldiers rather than turn him in.”

  “And you?” Orion demanded. “Would you help him?”

  “Depends on who is paying me the most. I have no loyalty to him, just as I have no loyalty to you. But money talks. Now put up your money and I shall help you track your man. I may even know of a way to get your little army over those mountains without having to spend days diverting east to the coast.”

  Tancred took a sample sip from the wine. It tasted good; expensive.

  “What is your plan for getting our force over the mountains?”

  “Money first,” Aestelle said coldly.

  “Five bezals,” Tancred countered.

  “Do not waste my time, Paladin,” Aestelle scowled. “These boots cost half that much. Fifty.”

  “Fifty?” Tancred exclaimed. “I could hire a whole troop of mercenaries for that!”

  “A troop of mercenaries can’t get your army across a mountain range,” Aestelle replied. “I can. There are few people here who know these mountains once you deviate from the paths to the mines. Of those few, I am the only one who will keep you alive long enough to cross them. That is worth fifty.”

  “Thirty,” Tancred countered, “and we both know that is well in excess of what any single mercenary is worth.”

  Aestelle finished her wine, stood up, and recovered a sword belt from the back of her chair. Carrying the scabbarded blade casually over one shoulder, she turned on her heel.

  “Then we are done here. Good evening, gentlemen.”

  Tancred looked in astonishment at the detail on the quillions and pommel of the exquisite greatsword. The blade itself was nearly the height of Aestelle, and the silver and gems inlaid on the weapon’s handle and pommel spoke of a woman who was well used to refinement.

  “Forty!” Tancred said as he shot to his feet, noting with discomfort that Aestelle was noticeably taller than him. “All upfront! It’s all I can offer!”

  The beautiful blonde woman stopped, regarded him over one shoulder before turning to face him again.

  “Very well,” she finally said. “As soon as your soldiers arrive, come and find me. Make sure they are all ready to move fast.”

  Chapter Nine

  Intrusive beams of sunlight crept in through the slits between the wooden shutters over the windows, highlighting the dust that swirled around the room. Aestelle opened one eye and groaned in pain, immediately reaching for the waterskin she kept hanging from the bedpost. In
stead, she found an empty bottle of wine on the small table by the bedside and let out a follow up moan of discomfort from the pounding at her temples. Her vision refusing to clear or even stay stationary, she forced herself to sit up.

  Outside the inn, the chirping of birds in the morning sun seemed loud enough to cut through glass. Slumping off the bed, Aestelle cursed herself for another night of alcohol-based indulgence. She checked the saddlebag hung on the bedpost next to the waterskin. Recovering a small, velvet pouch she counted her money. This elicited a third groan. The facade of wealth would not continue any longer, especially if she carried on wasting her money on over indulgent inns and fine wines. At least the two paladins she had encountered seemed serious about paying her a very good wage for leading them across some stubby mountains for a few days.

  Aestelle staggered over to the clear area of her inn room by the end of her bed and sank down to carry out her morning regime of press-ups. Gritting her teeth in pain as her head flared up in protest and her stomach churned with each repetition of the exercise, she focused her mind and refused to be beaten by the nausea. After a mere fifty press-ups, her stomach won the fight and forced her to launch herself for the small chamber adjoining her bedroom where she was sick into a bucket. Feeling slightly better for the ordeal, Aestelle washed herself meticulously from her washbasin before dashing dark, powdered make up over her already dark, hungover eyes. Tying her braided hair back and spending the extra time in front of a brass framed mirror to stylishly arrange the beads which danged from one side of her forehead, she hauled her leather armor on and buckled her pistol and knife belt around her waist.

  The irony of the contrary activities was not lost on her as she applied a few slaps of criminally expensive perfume, before recovering her greatsword and buckling it to her back to leave the handle accessable over her right shoulder. Finally, she slung her bow along with a quiver of arrows to protrude over her left shoulder. Prepared to face the outside world, she left her room to buy a drink powerful enough to freshen the foul taste in her mouth before finding the two paladins so she could remedy her worryingly low level of funds.