Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  The eight Rangers agreed to play the part of mercenaries, with Collett acting captain for the band and Farsighter playing his second. Luda actually looked pleased at the prospect of acting the common soldier, though he said nothing on the subject.

  Once they had sorted themselves Cal and Tamala had to return to the wagon that they had been using and retrieve their packs. It was only when Cal heard the gasp of surprise from Tamala as he withdrew his sword from its wrappings that he realised that in the turmoil and excitement of the last few days he had completely forgotten about it.

  “Where did you get that?” Tamala was spellbound by the sight of the runes on the scabbard.

  “Vorston gave it me as a replacement for the sword I lost in the battle. It was a reward I suppose for staying to help defend his people.” Cal’s face shone with pride.

  For a moment Tamala stared thoughtfully at the hilt, then she smiled and started gushing about how wonderful it was. Cal’s mind soared at the reaction.

  As they returned to the horses he heard the talking suddenly stop as they all caught sight of the sword’s hilt protruding over his left shoulder. He was carrying his bow in his hand, not having figured out a way to shoulder it without hindering the sword’s scabbard which he had discovered strapped across his back so that the sword would be drawn automatically in a downward, slashing motion.

  Cal caught Farsighter’s by now familiar raising of an eyebrow, but found it more difficult to judge the reaction of the others. Slowly they returned to their own preparations whilst Farsighter guided his horse to Cal’s side.

  “Nice sword.”

  “A present from Vorston, though I confess that when I accepted it I hadn’t thought about where I would be wearing it.”

  Farsighter watched Cal’s eyes as he spoke. It was apparent that he was full of pride at being given the sword, but not overly so. He didn’t throw the fact of his magnificent gift in anyone’s face.

  Apparently satisfied, Farsighter offered congratulations over the present before guiding his mount back to the members of the group that were to play mercenaries.

  As they closed on Nibar’a, Cal saw that the town was roughly the same size as Holdur, although without the overpowering presence of a keep. He also saw that it stretched along the coastline so that the town was narrow from the sea to the floodplain, but quite long measured from east to west.

  None of the buildings that he could see were particularly tall, something that he commented on and was informed by Dorrin that many coastal towns built squat buildings in order to protect against the storms that periodically ravaged them.

  On the outskirts there were several largish buildings that were used to store livestock. Around them, towns children could be seen playing in the dust that the last few days of dry weather had formed. Washing was hanging from lines at the back of houses and they could hear the raucous calls of hawkers selling their wares coming from the streets they were just about to enter.

  As they moved down the first street Cal couldn’t help but think that Nibar’a appeared, at first glance, to be a much livelier town than Holdur had been. Most of the buildings that faced onto the road provided facing for shops selling just about everything from clothing to fishing nets.

  Wood smoke could be smelt on the air and Dorrin again explained things to Cal. The smell came from the racks of fish that were smoked ready for shipment to towns further inland, the process preserving the fish for the journey and providing a rich flavour that was sought after by many nobles for their tables. The locals almost never ate smoked fish, much preferring the more natural flavour of the freshly caught varieties.

  As they moved closer to the docks they saw the merchants that sold their merchandise to traders that had come from other towns within the kingdom, and acted as go-between for the traders to sell on to the ship captains that were destined for places as far away as Mid’gra and Mek, on the island kingdom of Dorn.

  Just shy of the docks themselves Dorrin motioned for them to come to a halt. On the right hand side of the street Cal could see the battered exterior of an inn, a badly damaged sign hung outside it proclaiming that they had arrived at the Raven’s Head.

  “It looks a wreck.” Tamala did not sound overly impressed.

  “Looks can be deceiving. Hard storms hit this town during the winter months, and the cost of repainting and repairing a house every time it took damage would be ruinous.

  I’d guess that you might change your mind once we get inside.”

  Dorrin led the trio to the side of the building where the stable was and called for the stable boy. A young child of about ten years appeared from a small room at the back of the stable and Dorrin quickly organised for someone to fetch their things whilst they sorted out a room with the innkeeper.

  There was a door directly from the stable to the inn, which they used and found that it led directly to the taproom. Several customers were already sat at their favourite tables as Dorrin motioned Cal and Tamala to a free one in the near corner.

  Tamala was pleasantly surprised by the interior. Dorrin had been correct about appearances being deceptive as the taproom was quite cosy, with a fireplace against the far wall that contained fresh coals ready for the evening chill that would soon set in.

  The tables and chairs were a bit worn with use, but still serviceable. Cal wouldn’t like to have to guess when any of them had last been polished, but it appeared that they were cleaned on a regular basis.

  The lighting was not all that bright, but he guessed that was probably intentional as not all of the transactions that took place in here were as far above board as they should be.

  He noticed a couple of the customers eyeing them as Tamala and himself sat, Cal ensuring that he used a stool that didn’t impede his sword and that his back was to the wall, but nothing was said out loud to them.

  He saw Dorrin talking to a heavyset man behind the bar, who he assumed must be the innkeeper, then they shook hands and Cal saw a small purse being exchanged. It was such a natural thing that it took Cal a moment to realise that he had no coin himself.

  When he had left Fallon’s Glen with Farsighter, the plan had been to travel directly to Bor’a, with no stops as such en route, but the circumstances had changed considerably since then. He resolved to bring the matter up with Dorrin when they got a moment alone. His thoughts were interrupted by Dorrin returning with a wide grin on his face.

  “We’re in luck, there’s two captains in port that I know from Joorat. Neither is due to sail in the next few days so we can afford to at least spend one night resting up.”

  A playful expression crossed Tamala’s face. “Do we have to rest? We have got a disguise to keep.”

  Dorrin raised his eyes heavenward. “Women.”

  Collett began barking orders as soon as the men arrived at the outskirts of the town. For the purposes of their own disguise they had decided that they would be more convincing if they set up camp on the road into town, not that far from where the dwarves had stopped their caravan.

  Whilst the men began unpacking and erecting tents he pulled Farsighter to one side. “We’ll need to send some of the lads into town tonight; it’ll look strange if they aren’t seen in any of the inns.”

  “Agreed, though you’d better tell them to keep in mind that we might have to move quickly. I know what they’re like when they get a chance to spend an evening or two in a town instead of sleeping under the stars.”

  “And were we any better when we were younger?”

  Farsighter grinned. “Probably worse.”

  Both laughed as they returned to their assumed tasks of ensuring that the camp was set correctly, ignoring the fact that the group of men they commanded could do this sort of thing in their sleep. After all, there was the pretence of being mercenaries to maintain, and it was well known that mercenary captains tended to shout and strut almost as much as they actually fought.

  After an initial drink, Dorrin led Cal and Tamala up the stairs behind and to the left of t
he bar to their rooms. They had taken two adjacent rooms, ostensibly so that Cal could remain close to his charge, although the innkeeper had smiled when he heard the reasoning. In his mind it was fairly obvious why they wanted the rooms together, but as long as they paid it made no difference to him.

  Tamala entered the first room, while Cal and Dorrin both entered the second as they were supposed to be sharing. Their packs had been brought up and Cal immediately removed his sword and placed it on the narrow, but comfortable looking pallet.

  “No one mentioned that wearing those things slung across your shoulder can get damned heavy after a while.”

  “You think? At least you’ve got the shoulders to do it, I’d have collapsed just thinking about walking around with it.”

  Cal smiled. “Blacksmiths son.”

  “That would explain it. Too many mornings helping your father?”

  “Far too many, though I’d give almost anything for things to be back the way they were then. Romantic adventures are all very good as stories but despite the compensations of our current situation,” he smiled as he thought of Tamala, Dorrin grimaced, “I still think I’d prefer a quiet country life without the shadow of war over my head.”

  “I suppose so. Look on the bright side though, if we succeed, you’ll probably be named a knight commander and given some title where you can whisk Tamala off to and then spend the rest of your life trying to convince her that you want things quiet.

  Personally, I think that task will prove more difficult than trying to rescue Her Majesty, but that’s none of my business.”

  Cal laughed. “Just so long as Tamala doesn’t hear about it, I think I’d have to agree with you. But if you ever tell Tamala I’ll deny everything.”

  They continued to chatter as they checked their belongings before a light tap at the door announced that Tamala had finished sorting out her room and had therefore decided that they should think about something to eat.

  The three made their way back down to the taproom where the evening appeared to have picked up a bit. Although Dorrin had left his sword back in their room, he had advised Cal to strap his back into place across his shoulder. They had already agreed a slight variation on the story they were to use, Dorrin was escorting the Lady ‘Avalyn’ away from the fighting in the north to the safety of Galorn, and Cal was the lady’s personal bodyguard.

  It was near enough Farsighter’s original idea that nobody had said anything to the alteration, but it also gave Dorrin a reason to be hasty in trying to gain passage aboard a ship without drawing too much attention to himself.

  As they found just about the last free table in the room Cal noticed Collett and Farsighter stood by the bar, both laughing raucously at some ripe joke being told by a man unknown to Cal that was stood next to them.

  Dorrin waved for one of the barmaids that had started to weave their way through the room now that the evening crowd had appeared. He ordered food for all of them and a round of drink whilst he joined Cal in scanning the room. They had no reason to suspect that anyone would take any more than a passing interest in them, but in a small sea town like this Shalers were not the only trouble they might find. To remind him of the fact, several shady looking characters could be seen near the far wall, deep in some conversation of their own.

  For the most part Dorrin judged the clientele to mainly comprise of merchants and sailors, with perhaps the odd local shop owner thrown into the mix. Nothing that should cause too much worry.

  Cal on the other hand had spotted something that caused him a lot of worry. Over by the bar, not two paces from Farsighter, stood a figure that almost caused his heart to stop. In size, shape and features, he was no one that Cal would swear to having ever seen before in his life, but the eyes were a different matter.

  “Dorrin.”

  “Yes.” Dorrin returned to facing the table. He was about to make a joke when he saw the expression on Cal’s face.

  “We need to return to our rooms now!” He didn’t wait for an answer but grabbed Tamala’s arm and bodily lifted her clear of her seat and started to pull her toward the stairs. Dorrin immediately noticed that Cal had swung his body so that he used his left arm to grab her, thus leaving his sword arm free.

  Across at the bar Farsighter saw the hurried departure of the others and instantly started to scan the crowd for the danger that they obviously felt themselves to be in. There was nothing obvious, but as his eyes swept across the figure near to them he felt a sudden chill run down the back of his neck.

  It took all of his concentration to keep his demeanour that of a common mercenary looking for some of his compatriots. “Captain, are you sure that Margo said he would meet us in here?”

  Collett had been caught looking the wrong way when the others had left, and as such had no idea that there was a problem until Farsighter asked after a non-existent companion. Without missing a beat he replied.

  “It might have been the Royal, that’s just down the road. Why? Do you want to go check?”

  “Might be an idea. One of us should stay here just in case.”

  “I’ll stay.” He picked up his pot of ale and tipped it toward Farsighter in salute, just two more in the crowd waiting for friends to join them.

  Farsighter passed just out of sight before he cut off of the main street and started down the alley that would lead him round to the rear of the inn. He had told Dorrin to make sure that they got rooms at the back just in case they needed to leave quickly without being seen, and now it looked as if their prudence was paying off.

  He reached the brick wall that was the back of the stables and swiftly pulled himself up and onto the roof. The wood creaked a little, but held his weight relatively easily. He glanced at the windows of the guestrooms and saw Dorrin waving at him.

  As silently as possible he made his way across the wooden roof to the far wall, crouching as he moved. Dorrin had the window open and had already started to lift their packs through, lowering them carefully to the wood below.

  “What’s the problem?” The whisper was more of a hiss than anything else.

  “Cal saw an old friend in the taproom.”

  Inside the room Farsighter could see Tamala stood just behind Dorrin, whilst Cal had his sword and knife drawn and was facing the door. His stance was slightly crouched, just as Collett had taught him, ready to strike at anything that tried to gain entrance to the room.

  The packs were through and Dorrin handed Cal’s wrapped bow to Farsighter before he moved aside for Tamala to leave the room first via the window. With Farsighter’s help from one side, and Dorrin’s from the other, Tamala was through quickly. Dorrin followed before sticking his head back into the room to call Cal.

  Without taking his eyes of the door, he backed to the window and lifted his leg over the sill. Transferring his balance to the wooden sill he twisted the other leg through to join the first and lightly dropped to the roof.

  They were soon in the alley with no sound of pursuit.

  “Where to?” Farsighter was staring back up at the window as if he expected a face to appear there at any moment.

  “You collect the others, we’ll head for the docks. I’ll meet you by the harbour masters hut an hour.”

  “One hour.” Farsighter patted Dorrin’s back. “Take care.”

  “Always.”

  Dorrin led them through the back alleys of the town until they appeared out of the gloom into the brightly lit area of the docks themselves. It only took five minutes, but it had seemed an age for Cal, who had travelled the entire distance continuously glancing over his shoulder.

  To the west end of the dock he could see a small hut that was lit from the inside. “Why would the harbour master still be here at this time of the evening?”

  Dorrin smiled at the question. “Spoken like a true country lad. The tides don’t pay much heed to the times of man, when they’re high, they’re high, that’s all there is to it.”

  He strode confidently toward the hut as he spoke, Cal and Tama
la following. No sooner had they reached the door, when it swung open and a large, barrel-chested man stepped out.

  “Pardon good sir, might you be the harbour master, we have need of talking to one of the captains currently in port.”

  The poor man nearly died a fright as Dorrin asked the question, obviously having not seen them approach and therefore not expecting anyone to be stood just outside his hut.

  “Gods man, do you always try and scare to death those with whom you speak?”

  Dorrin chuckled apologetically. “My apologies, but we had intended to knock on the door before you stepped outside.”

  “No matter, I think my heart’s restarted.” He took in the sight of the group before him and instantly became more guarded. “Who is it you wish to speak to?”

  “Esbet, if he’s still sober.”

  “And what would you be wanting with Captain Esbet at this time of night?” The harbour master appeared to have gotten over his fright and become a stuffy bureaucrat, as he felt was his right.

  “Whatever business I have with the good captain is between the two of us. You will send a boat out to inform him that Dorrin of Joorat wishes to see him immediately.” He heavily emphasised the word ‘immediately’.

  The harbour master seemed little impressed by the use of a title before Tamala spoke up. “My Lord Dorrin, whatever can the delay be? If my father, Count Valeson, knew of this I’m sure that he would be most perplexed.”

  Cal rolled his eyes heavenward as Tamala laid the carefree nobleman’s daughter act on a bit thick. The harbour master on the other hand looked as if he was having a heart attack. Here he was arguing with a man he had taken to be a merchant trying to get the jump on the others, only to discover that he was face to face with nobility. It didn’t matter where they were from, if word made it to Earl Paldor, in whose fiefdom Nibar’a lay, then he was in serious trouble.

  “My Lord.” He almost stumbled over the words. “I will send a boat immediately to the Hurricane and inform Esbet that you wish to see him.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Please forgive me my Lord, but I had no way of knowing who you were.”