by K. T. Tomb
The door swung open around midday and the jarl walked in, suspicion and a glimmer of something that looked like hope in his eyes. He knew he needed this crew of men to save his people, and to save the world. He walked to the center of the room where Jarreth was seated at a table, but he just paused and stood there, waiting for Jarreth to make the first move.
Jarreth stood up, extended his hand in a formal greeting and said, “Hail, the Jarl Algoth. Blessings of peace on you and yours,” and took the jarl’s proffered arm in a tight clasp. “Could I get you anything to drink?”
“Aye. Old Viking hospitality. There are many who would say that such does not exist very much these days” the jarl replied.
“Then perhaps there are many who would be right in assuming such, Jarl,” Jarreth replied, laughing.
“When doing a lot of talking I work up a thirst, and you and I have much to discuss. I will certainly accept a tankard of something cold to keep me beak wet.”
“I could certainly do that.” Jarreth stood up from the table as he invited his guest to take a seat. He walked around the bar to the tap and poured a large tankard of a light, honey-colored ale for the Jarl.
“I have to say, I am rather… surprised… that you would be reaching out to a crew such as ours for anything,” Jarreth said. “We aren’t cheap, mind you—in fact, private contracts come at a… premium,” he added as he gave the jarl a cold smile. It was an expression that reminded the jarl of a coin left on the counter in the middle of winter.
“Aye, I expected as much,” he replied. “But first, don’t you need to know what the contract entails?”
“I suppose that would help me determine a… fair rate,” Jarreth responded.
“So, straight to business then. I appreciate your straightforwardness,” Jarl Algoth surmised as he sat back and gulped down half the beverage in the cup.
“As you know, this world is dying. And fast. The… creatures… that spawn in the wastes are getting worse. They reproduce at the rate of hares. There isn’t much we can do, except to try our best to keep killing them off. They kill more of us than we do them, and in this war of attrition, we are losing badly. I’m sure you’ve had some experience with that?” the jarl asked.
“Aye, we have come across a lot of that on our travels,” said Jarreth. “And even in some of the other worlds… they’re worse, if you can believe it. On our last, ummm… outing, we lost a number of good men.” He paused and lifted his own cup to his lips, drinking deeply as an expression of regret spread across his face. Then he returned his stare to the man seated across from him at the table. “What is it exactly you want us to do?”
In the cellar, Hugh relayed the conversation to Kaerl and his apprentice. They were both in a state of meditation which allowed them to remember verbatim everything that was being said.
“Well,” the jarl replied, as he piled cold meat and cheese onto a piece of bread. He paused to take a big bite. When he had chewed and swallowed the food, he looked up at Jarreth and continued. “What I want you to do is take your men and your ship, and go out there and find us a new home.”
Jarreth was flabbergasted. He scoffed and lifted his cup to drink again before rebuking his guest. Jarl Algoth sensed the reluctance in Jarreth’s demeanor and raised a hand for him to give pause and hear him out.
“There was a specific log book that was retrieved a while back from a captain that went out. As a matter of fact, it’s now being kept in the Hall of Records. This captain found a world that was much like this one. Only, green. With clear, cold water and plenty of land that seemed ideal for the cultivation of crops. I’ve read it once or twice, but the recorders keep that log book under lock and key. The thing is, they won’t do anything with it. If word got out about its contents, there would be a mass exodus. Anyone with a fool’s passing knowledge of sailing would be trying their very best to get there. I want you and your crew to get there first. Stake the ground out, and establish a base. Eventually, we will start leading people to this place, but first we need to create a foothold. Once you’re there, it should be easy enough for the rest of the people to find. The problem is that the veil you need to pass through has proven to be rather difficult to locate. The other side is said to look and feel—at least according to the long-dead sentient who assisted on that trip—exactly like our world. Another problem, however, is that the other crew was reported to have, ummm… run into some problems.”
“What kind of problems, exactly?” asked Jarreth.
“The disappearing crew member kind of problems. The real issue was that they never went back for those people. The Guild put a stop to it, and denies to this day, any request to further explore that land.”
Great, Jarreth thought. We’re already down by several men—undermanned and under equipped—and now he wants to send us to a place where we could lose more people. One that the Guild knows about and is actively preventing people from exploring. This has all the makings of a disaster. Still, if we don’t have to fight our way in or out, it could be worth it.
“What exactly are you looking to pay us to do this? I mean, a trip like this one is bound to incur all kinds of additional expenses. We need to recruit a few more people—we lost some of our deckhands and three of our most promising combatants on our last expedition. We’re under-funded and at this point all of our men are using… reserve… weapons and armor. Our last trip was… well, let’s call it a debacle,” Jarreth explained.
“Funding will not be an issue. Recruit those you need, re-provision from this list.” He pulled out a piece of parchment and slid it across the table to Jarreth. “Just tell them to put it all on the jarl’s credit.”
“Ah, so are you the only financier on this operation? It could get pricey.” Jarreth looked at the jarl again. His expression was steely. It was of a lone, starving wolf that had just spotted an injured deer.
“For now, yes. I am the only financier. The only one you need to worry about, anyway,” Jarl Algoth responded.
So there’s more to this than is apparent. This isn’t just one powerful man looking for a way out. Perhaps one or two other Council members? Maybe the entire lot of ‘em are in on this? As soon as it materialized, Jarreth stored that thought away for further examination.
“Fine,” Jarreth said, standing up once again. “You have yourself a deal. We’ll start by trying to get a look at the log book you mentioned. That could take us a few days, but expect expenses to start rolling in during the upcoming weeks. It could get—as I said before—pricey, especially if we have to end up bribing people to get what we need. For that, we’ll make a separate record and send you a bill.”
“That will be fine,” the jarl replied, also standing and shaking Jarreth’s hand.
I hope I haven’t just struck a bargain that will come back to haunt me, Algoth thought to himself, keeping a warm smile in place. With that, he walked out the door.
Hugh and the rest of the crew on duty down in the cellar came up to the main room as soon as they heard the door close.
“What are we getting ourselves into here, Jarreth?” Ingarum demanded. “This sounds like an extended project. And you told me, the first day we met, our policy was: get in, get out and be done before anyone finds out what we’re doing. You said—”
“I know what I said, Ingarum,” Jarreth cut in. “This is bigger than just a paycheck. This is a way out… for all of us. We owe it to everyone that has ever been run down and killed by one of the demons in the wild, we owe it to everyone who has ever lost a family member, we owe it to anyone who has ever known fear in this broken world, to try and find this place. This isn’t about getting rich anymore. If we find a place that humanity could survive in—and thrive in—again, well… the Guild won’t matter because humanity will know our names. They will sing the praises of the crew of the Veiled Lady and all her exploits for the rest of time.”
“Jarreth,” Hugh said softly, “that is all well and good. But if this was about chasing glory, about chasing immortalit
y… well…” and he trailed off.
“Screw it,” Yvo chimed in. “I’m in, Cap. I’m in, no matter what you might need of me.”
“Good.” Jarreth placed a hand on Yvo’s shoulder. “Because you can be sure that I need you.” Then, he looked at the rest of the gathered men and after a brief silence, he said, “I need all of you.”
Chapter Five
Algoth’s hall was brightly lit.
There were torches blazing in every sconce. A feast had been prepared for the visiting members of the Danish Council. There was a large species of bear that ranged the wastes. A cub of the species was known to be twice the size of a grown man and they were next to impossible to kill. The fur on their bellies was thick and matted, and their talons and teeth were like diamond-edged razors. They could bite through a thrusting spear or cut through iron and steel armor like knives through butter. And yet, the jarl commissioned a group of his men to go out and bring one back for the feast, because their meat was tender and sweet and lean. They’d had success too, and had only sustained one major injury. The smell of roasting meat met the noses of the other jarls’ warriors as they entered the fort.
“Algoth!” Jannick exclaimed, happy to see his host hale and healthy.
Algoth broke into a smile and clapped a hand onto Jannick’s shoulder.
“Ha ha! Jannick! It is so good to see you, friend. How were things in the west? Not too terrible, I hope?”
“All is well Algoth, all is well. For once, we’re making progress—we’ve been using traps and pits to hold demons and abominations. Then we simply stand at the top and fire arrows into the bloody things until they’re dead. Fill the hole back in, dig a new trap, kill a new demon. Much, much safer!”
“Truly, Jannick?” Algoth asked. “I’ll have to give this method a chance! Sounds very interesting indeed. Come, come, let us sit and eat! Everyone, let us sit and eat!”
The feast commenced and, as the food was brought out and the women poured the ale and the mead, a steady hum fell over the room while the jarls and their men ate and drank their fill. When the festivities had reached to a height, Algoth beckoned to the fellow council members and they retired to his private study.
“So Algoth, I take it that things went well?” Jannick started the session with a simple, straightforward question.
“Aye, they did indeed. The only thing that seemed to stand out as a hindrance is that the whole thing could get very expensive, very quickly. I don’t require outside assistance yet, but I could end up needing some serious help with the funding,” Algoth finished.
“Why is that?” Haldur asked. He didn’t question Algoth in the spirit of being obstinate or difficult, he was just a man that liked to know what his money was being spent on, and get the reassurance that his investments would eventually pay dividends.
“Because,” Algoth explained, with full understanding of where Haldur is coming from, “the captain needs to hire men. He needs to resupply them with weapons and armor and food and he may need to bribe people to get the access he desires to certain… resources. Resources that he may need.”
“What other resources might he need that we could not supply, or get him access to?” Jannick asked.
It was the same question the rest of the council members all had on their minds.
“Namely and firstly, the Hall of Records,” Algoth responded. The rest of the council sat up sharply at this.
“What could he possibly need from there?” Djorn asked.
“He needs a log book. A very particular log book; one the Guild keeps under lock and key. The other reason they need it is because it contains the location of the Veil they will need to find if they are to get to where I want them to go,” Algoth replied. “I’ve heard of this exploration before, aye, and even seen the book myself. Where I’m sending them was described as a world just like this one… like, this one used to be, I mean. Dark, dark soil and clear, drinkable water and plenty of game to sustain ourselves on. If they could find it, it’ll be worth this entire trip and all our fortunes combined.”
“Good then. When will they be under way?” Haldur asked.
“They should be making preparations to get underway as we speak,” Algoth replied. “Now,” he said heartily as he stood up, “let’s go and rejoin the celebration, aye?”
With that, the council exited the room and went back to join in on the celebration.
***
At the Loki’s Luck tavern, Jarreth explained the outline of his plan to the rest of his crew.
“Kaerl, I need you, or Willem… hell, maybe even the both of you, to get into the Hall of Records,” he said.
“But the Hall is—”
“Yes, Willem, I know how well guarded it is. No one—not even sanctioned members of the Guild—could get in there without express permission. They guard their secrets closely, of that we can be certain.”
“Then how do you propose we break in?” Kaerl asked.
“You must still know some people from when you trained, right? People that went on the more… ah… straight and narrow, if you will?” Jarreth suggested.
“Jarreth, are you really asking me to go to a… a former friend, ask them to put their livelihood, their reputation on the line… to put themselves in a ridiculous amount of risk for me? I could ask, but… no one will do it.” Kaerl scoffed at Jarreth’s idea. “We’re pretty much—no, we’re one hundred percent—better off just breaking in and hoping no one catches us.”
“Well, if it comes to that, it will come to that.” Jarreth winked at him. “I suggest that you try a bribe first, though. Everyone has a price. Find it, whatever it is, and we’ll pay it. We need to see that log book and figure out where the hell the jarl wants us to go,” he said.
“I could go with them,” Hugh suggested. “I could help by lowering the inhibitions of the people they will need to talk to. At the same time, I could raise their… their… susceptibility to your suggestions. That should help, right?” Hugh finished and took a querying look at Jarreth.
Gods above, Jarreth thought to himself. What could I do for Hugh? It wasn’t his fault we lost men. It wasn’t on him, dammit, but I know he’ll never forgive himself. It might probably be for the best to just let him get as involved as he can, so he will at least feel helpful.
“Aye, Hugh, that would be most helpful indeed,” Jarreth replied. “But first, I need you to do me a big favor. I need you to find someone for me. Someone that is like you—but undiscovered by the Guild. I need you to find me an untrained sentient. I’ve heard that there are people who developed their talents later on in their lives, and were too young to begin training; is that correct?”
“Yes, Jarreth, it is. But the thing is… well… once the Guild locates someone like that… they’re done for.” He motioned with a finger sliding across his throat. “Although I did hear that there was a… gathering… a commune of them out in the wilds somewhere. I don’t know if there is any credence to that rumor, but I could certainly pursue it, once we have the log book.”
“Thank you, Hugh,” Jarreth replied. “Next up—Yvo, Ingarum and Haervey—I need you boys to go out and recruit a few more like you. People we can depend on—doesn’t matter if they’re a bit green. Doesn’t matter if they get seasick either. They just need to be able to stand up straight, hold a shield and swing a sword, and not be afraid to die. Basically, go hire your replacements,” Jarreth added, getting a laugh from the rest of the crew.
“Listen here now,” Yvo said. “We three are nae jus’ cannon fodder, ye ken?”
“Aye,” Haervey agreed, and Ingarum grunted his approval from between his two brothers.
“I know,” Jarreth said. “I know that I could count on you three to be first in, last out, no matter where we go or how thick the shit gets. That’s why I’m counting on you to find more people just like your fine selves. And remember—all of you—be discreet. We don’t need any extra attention right now. Not even a little bit, aye?”
“Aye,” the crew a
ll agreed.
Later that same evening, Hugh, Kaerl and Willem were in another tavern. They managed to meet up with one of Kaerl’s old friends from the days he spent studying to be a recorder for the Guild of Exploration.
“Kenjov!” Kaerl exclaimed, seeing the man his friend had become for the first time in years.
“Kaerl,” he said politely. “And who are these others?”
“This is Willard and this here is Benjorn,” he replied as he introduced Willem and Hugh under false names to his friend Kentjov.
“Ah, wonderful to meet you both. Now, what was it, exactly, that I could help you with, Kaerl? Do you know how much trouble I could get into if the Guild knew I was meeting with you?”
“Oh, what could the Guild possibly have against me?” Kaerl asked.
“It’s not just the Guild, as a matter of fact—it’s the Guild and the Recorder’s Chamber that both have issues with you,” Kenjov replied tersely. “You were on the brink of passing—you led our class from the time they recruited us at six years old and you were the best for fifteen years of constant studying and those ridiculously miserable mental exercises that put the physical training of a combatant to shame. And what did you do? You quit and ran away the night before our final exam. An exam that would have sent us out to see the world. We were assigned to our teams in order to keep each other on task and on track. Do you know what happened to me? My ship sank as soon as you decided to beeline it outta there. So excuse me if I’m not wholly ready to forgive. And you know it’s impossible for me to forget. I couldn’t forget… anything. Do you know how miserable it is to remember everything you’ve ever done, heard or experienced in the sharpest detail? What it’s like to relive your worst mistakes repeatedly? No, of course not. You gave that life up didn’t you? Well, what was it that was so urgent then?”
