He took a seat on the floor by the fire, and let the flames warm his tired body. In the mountains, during what seemed to be an unending northern winter, he had thought he would never feel warm again. Now he sat so close that the fire burned him. His face felt red, a trickle of sweat ran down his side, and yet he was loathe to move farther away. He felt like he could sleep for a week, and had to stop himself from lying down there and then. The trouble was, with all the military activity going on, these two knights whom Leontios had mentioned in his letter probably had a dozen better things to do than meet with him.
‘Clarin!’ came a voice from the other end of the hall, and he turned to see someone he had thought he would never see again.
Belwynn, smiling, came running over, closely followed by Elana. He got to his feet and opened his arms to grab her. She pushed away too soon, and then he was hugging Elana, though in truth he only had eyes for Belwynn. He had promised himself many things since his capture in Edeleny, and one of them was that if he ever found this girl again, he would never leave her. She looked more beautiful than ever and she looked happy; happier than he remembered her.
‘You’re a lot thinner,’ said Belwynn.
‘Yes well, being starved for eight months will do that. I swear, I never understood what hunger meant.’ He looked around. He had hoped there would have been more. ‘Soren? Gyrmund? Did they not make it?’
‘You’ve just missed them, by two days,’ Belwynn replied. ‘They’re heading north, to the Jalakh Steppe. I’ll explain why later. Moneva is with them, too.’ She looked at him. ‘I forget, there’s so much you don’t know. I am so sorry we left you. Herin?’
We left you? Had Belwynn been in Samir Durg? It sounded like there was much he didn’t know.
‘Herin,’ he began, answering her question. ‘We held out in one of the towers of Samir Durg. He went missing. I looked for him as best I could, vowed to myself that I would never leave without him. The others helped me, but there was not a single sign. If he was dead, I am sure we would have found a body. But nothing. And there was little time. If we didn’t leave when we had the chance, we wouldn’t have left at all.’
‘Who’s we?’ Belwynn asked. ‘The other prisoners? Gyrmund told us about them. What did he say?’ she asked, turning to Elana.
‘There were humans,’ said the priestess. ‘Dog-men. A Bear-man?’
‘Yes,’ said Clarin, smiling, and told them about his new companions, those who had survived. Then they in turn told him of what had happened in Kalinth, of Dirk’s death, of their invasion of Haskany, and finally of Belwynn’s time in Samir Durg, teleported in by Pentas the wizard. How Gyrmund and Moneva had somehow rescued Soren, how they had all ended up in the throne room, and how Moneva had used Toric’s Dagger to kill Erkindrix.
‘That makes sense,’ said Clarin. ‘The Isharites had all but defeated us, we were ready to make our last stand on the roof of the tower. And then they all left. That must have been when Erkindrix was slain.’
‘I am sorry we left you,’ said Belwynn. ‘I don’t know whether it was the right thing to do. I was unconscious—’
‘Nonsense,’ said Clarin. ‘You saved us, when you all helped to kill Erkindrix. They had to take you to safety at that point. Anyway, what now?’
‘Oh, I completely forgot,’ said Belwynn. ‘Theron told me to take you to see him.’
Belwynn and Elana led Clarin to a room where the knight, Theron, was sat at a desk, bits of parchment spread about it. He stood up and welcomed them in. He was young, confident, but looked careworn. Clarin understood. Many were counting on him to win this war the Kalinthians were involved in.
‘It’s an honour to meet you, Clarin,’ said Theron once they were all seated. ‘Belwynn and the others have told me so much about you. To have a warrior of your prowess here is a boon, I can tell you. The letter Leontios wrote,’ he said, trying to find it amongst the various bits of parchment on the table before giving up, ‘mentioned a number of other escaped prisoners?’
‘That’s right, there are nineteen of us in all. Two of them are Dog-men. I know that may sound strange, but they have been loyal to me and we wouldn’t have survived without them.’
‘I understand. I’m in no position to discriminate against them, even if I was so inclined. Look Clarin, I will be frank with you. You will have picked up that we are in a dangerous situation right now. I can offer you and all your friends accommodation, food, and even wages. On one condition. You all join the Kalinthian army.’ Theron looked at Clarin’s expression. ‘I’m sorry to have to do it, but I have no choice. We’re desperate.’
Clarin looked from Theron to Belwynn and Elana, then back to the knight, but none of them cracked a smile.
They all looked at him, with deadly serious expressions. But they had to be joking. They had to be fucking joking.
7
Red Serpent
THEY USED THE GREAT ROAD to travel south, before leaving it to travel south-east through Gotbeck. This part of Godfrey’s duchy was well-organised and flourishing farming country, and he admitted he rarely needed to visit.
‘My early years were taken up with the crusade against the Lizard-men,’ he expounded, as Farred and he rode just behind the head of the column, his soldiers positioned at the front and rear, Hajna and her two companions behind them. ‘Vicious creatures, who raid our people and don’t think twice about killing women and children. I was often frustrated by a witch who dwelt in the marshland. She protected them, altering the paths through the swamps so that my soldiers got lost, or trapped. I had my suspicions,’ he added quietly, glancing behind and then leaning over to whisper to Farred, ‘that the Sea Caladri were also involved. No firm proof, but—’, he nodded sagely at Farred, as if they both understood that a lack of proof was suspicious in itself. ‘Then the bitch died and we got the swamps under control. As soon as that was accomplished, these damn missionaries from the Confederacy began arriving, spreading their dangerous ideas.’
And so to Godfrey’s religious persecution. Farred knew it wasn’t wise, that he should focus on his mission, but he couldn’t help examining the issue.
‘What’s so dangerous about these priests?’ Farred asked. ‘If you’ll forgive my ignorance on the subject.’
‘No need for forgiveness, my son. I am equally ignorant of the issues facing Magnia, I am sure. Or perhaps,’ added Godfrey, smiling with satisfaction, ‘we should both ask for forgiveness.’
That was the kind of glib comment Farred had got used to hearing from the Archbishop.
‘The Empire is a mix of different peoples, and these peoples have many religions: different gods, and different beliefs. Our ability to live together in harmony rests on many pillars, but one of the most important is the Brasingian Church. Here all gods may be worshipped, and all are treated equally. This institution was created by Emperor Ludvig, and is often overlooked or under-appreciated by foreigners, if I may say so. Anyway, to the Confederacy. The religion they are promulgating has it that there is one god only, and all others are false. What does this mean? That those who worship these false gods must be ‘stopped’ from doing so. Now, I ask you. Do you see how this idea, if allowed to infect the Empire, could cause untold harm? It undermines entirely the principle of our Church, and creates fanatics whose energies are turned to fighting the beliefs of others, instead of respecting them. That is what I am up against here in Gotbeck.’
Farred had been expecting some bigoted defence of Godfrey’s persecutions. But he did understand. He saw how the Empire was a different polity to Magnia, and needed more work to keep it united. He saw how protecting religious freedom was crucial to that. He had, he was forced to admit, somewhat misjudged the Archbishop.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘I thank you for the lesson.’
Godfrey nodded solemnly, and they continued their journey.
Godfrey explained that the best place to cross the border into the lands of the Sea Caladri was near. The north-west tip of the Caladri lands, next to Cord
ence, was some distance from the Cousel and the marshland that surrounded it on its final journey into the sea. Here, the land was dry and mostly wooded. Trails took them through the woods, and they were able to proceed on horseback. As they approached the border they came across a small fort, now a ruin. The woodland had mostly reclaimed it: trees grew from its roof and moss and ivy covered most of the walls.
‘There were others built in a line here,’ Godfrey explained, pointing to the east, ‘maybe a dozen in all. I think they were abandoned soon after they were built. Your cousins are not a warlike people,’ he said to Queen Hajna.
‘They chose this place to escape war,’ she said. ‘They have had hundreds of years of peace. In that time, they have become rather good sailors. And that is why we are here.’
She sounded almost jealous to Farred. If her people had been fighting the Shadow Caladri all this time, without help, maybe jealousy was natural.
‘I could have some of my men escort you farther,’ said Godfrey. ‘But in truth, your passage may be more straightforward without us.’
‘I believe you are correct,’ said Hajna. ‘I am most grateful for your help, and I will tell my cousins of the aid you have given me.’
‘You are quite welcome, of course,’ said Godfrey. He took Hajna’s hand and placed a kiss there. He turned to Farred, and they shook hands.
‘It may be that the gods decide that our paths will not soon cross again,’ said the Archbishop. ‘In which case I wish you good luck in your endeavours.’
Farred nodded, then turned to look in the direction they would travel. Apart from the abandoned fort, there was no other sign that the land ahead was claimed by the Caladri. Gentle woodland stretched ahead into the distance and he could see that their trail continued. He wondered whether it was used by Gotbeckers or the Caladri themselves. Some contact, for reasons such as trade, could surely exist here, where it was so easy to cross from one country to another.
He began to follow the trail, nudging his mount carefully ahead, and Hajna followed, with her companions, Marika and Vida, at the rear. They were quiet, almost subservient to Hajna, who always spoke on their behalf. Vida had a sword strapped to his waist, but whether he was a bodyguard, it was hard to tell. Gyrmund had advised Farred that Hajna was a powerful witch, in which case she hardly needed protection.
The four of them followed the trail through the woods. Hajna was content for Farred to take the lead and choose the route. She seemed unconcerned about the direction they took, but while the Queen seemed relaxed about their journey, Farred felt more anxious the farther they went. He didn’t know what kind of reaction the Caladri would have to their unannounced arrival.
He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but one moment the path ahead was clear, the next it wasn’t. A small group of Caladri riders had appeared ahead of them. Farred touched the hilt of his sword and looked around. Behind them, a few yards down the trail, a second group of Caladri had appeared.
He looked from one group to the next, nervous of them, even though they appeared to have no weapons, either in their hands or at their belts. Hajna took the initiative and approached the group in front of them.
‘Well met. I am Queen Hajna of the Blood Caladri.’
‘Queen Hajna?’ responded one of the Caladri. ‘Then King Tibor has died?’
‘Last summer,’ Hajna confirmed. ‘In the fighting with the Shadow Ones.’
‘I had not heard,’ said the Caladri. ‘Please accept my condolences. I am Darda. I can take you to see our Council?’
‘Yes, thank you. I have with me Farred, a nobleman from South Magnia. He comes with a message from his Prince. I vouch for him.’
‘Well met, Farred,’ said Darda. ‘Since Queen Hajna vouches for you, you are most welcome here. We will be taking you to our capital, Mizky. It is a long ride, we will need to stay one night on the way.’
‘Thank you for your hospitality,’ Farred replied.
With no further ceremony, Darda turned her horse around and took the trail south. Hajna followed her, and so Farred did likewise, Marika and Vida just behind him. He looked about him as they rode. There was no physical sign that he had crossed into another realm. But nonetheless he felt acutely aware that he was possibly the sole human, in an alien land.
Farred was sitting outside his tent, letting the morning sun warm him after breakfast. He was thinking, and that was never good these days, for his thoughts always turned to Burkhard Castle, and the horrors of the siege he had witnessed there. Bodies piled up at the bottom of the crag, countless Drobax forcing their way up the path, day after day. But he always ended up thinking of Ashere, lying in agony as the poison from an Isharite blade dealt him a lingering death.
‘It has to be you, Farred,’ Ashere had begged him. ‘I can’t ask anybody else. Please.’
And what else can you do when someone you love begs you for help? Nothing else, but give them what they want.
His memories were interrupted as two figures approached him—Vida and Marika, the two Blood Caladri.
‘We are going to visit the harbour,’ Marika said to him. ‘Would you like to come?’
‘Yes,’ said Farred, jumping to his feet. He had come to the conclusion that Marika and Vida were in a relationship, and in normal circumstances he would have avoided getting in their way. But with another empty day ahead of him in Mizky, he was bored.
He wondered what Gyrmund would say, his great explorer of a friend, if he was to learn that Farred was in one of the few places in Dalriya that Gyrmund had never been, and couldn’t wait to leave. He smiled to himself. He wouldn’t be impressed.
They left the field of tents which was their temporary home, heading downhill to the harbour area of the city, where most of the citizens worked. Vida and Marika walked either side of him, and linked their arms through his. Gyrmund had warned him back in Coldeberg of the over-familiarity of the Caladri, and Farred was glad he had, because it took some getting used to. It was in stark contrast to the Sea Caladri, many of whom openly stared at him as they walked down one of the main streets that led to the sea. They were not hostile, exactly, but he had certainly found them to be unwelcoming, and he was glad to have had the company of Vida and Marika over the last few days.
He had only made one very brief appearance in front of the Caladri Council. Hajna had already met with them beforehand to explain why they had come. Farred’s role, therefore, was simply to formally offer the Sea Caladri safe harbour in the ports of South Magnia. From there, their fleet could help to re-open the sea lanes across the Lantinen Sea, which had been closed by the Kharovian navy. Hajna’s companion, Szabolcs, had told them that one of the magic weapons they were searching for, the Giant’s Spear, was somewhere in Halvia. Re-opening the Lantinen was a necessary first step to finding it.
The Sea Caladri had been polite enough, thanking Edgar for his offer and all the usual pleasantries, but they were clearly not involving Farred in their decision making. So instead, while they deliberated, he was left to his own devices in Mizky.
They reached the sea front. Here, a natural spit of rock that knifed into the sea had been extended by the Caladri to make a large, sheltered harbour, and whenever Farred came down to the sea front, the area was a hive of activity. The three of them sat on a wall to watch what was going on, the sea breeze tugging at their clothes, as passers-by stopped to stare at Farred, the stranger in their midst, before walking on.
A shipyard took up the near side of the harbour. Here many Caladri men and women were working on a large vessel. The carcass was already complete: wooden planks overlapped to create an unusually deep and wide hull. Farred knew enough to identify it as a trading ship, the large hull constructed to carry goods long distances across the ocean. The shipwrights were working on the frame, the internal ribs of the vessel. It was an impressive sight. They worked hard, and each of them seemed to know exactly what their job was, with little direction needed from the master shipwright.
The central part of the harbour
was for fishing vessels, which regularly came and went, depositing barrels teaming with fish and crustaceans. The locals bought them freshly caught on the sea-front for their evening meal; the remainder were carted off to the nearby factory to be salted. On the far side of the harbour were Caladri warships, moored onto wooden piers. On his first visit there had been half a dozen; now, there were twice that number. It may have been coincidence, but it suggested that the Caladri Council were gathering a fleet, should a decision be made to sail for the west.
A Caladri man approached them, brawnier than average, with the weather-beaten look of a sailor.
‘You’re Magnian?’ he asked Farred directly, apparently not as shocked by his presence as his compatriots.
‘That I am,’ Farred replied. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I’ve been told to consult my charts on the routes to Magnia, so it seemed likely that is where you are from. You don’t look Magnian, though.’
‘My family is Middian in origin,’ Farred explained.
‘Aah. Not sailors then, I wager?’
Farred chuckled. He had a funny way about him, this Caladri sailor.
‘No, I am afraid not. I can’t even swim.’
‘Well, I know plenty of sailors who can’t swim. They’re fine so long as they don’t fall off the ship. What do you know of this Kharovian fleet then, my lord? Do their ships sail as far south as Magnia now?’
‘Not that I know of, not South Magnia certainly. Our fishing boats still go out with no trouble. I doubt that their patrols regularly get farther south than the Guivergnais coast.’
‘That’s what I would have guessed.’
‘Are you the captain of one of those warships?’ Farred asked.
‘That I am. She’s the best of the lot, too. Red Serpent.’
‘I don’t doubt it. Have you been told to sail to Magnia?’
‘Not as such. I’ve been told I might be asked to sail there. So have a lot of other captains. Since few of us have sailed all that way ourselves, I have been consulting charts, drawn up by earlier sailors.’
The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set Page 78
