by David Bokman
⧫ CHAPTER II ⧫
They rode out at first light, following the nearly dried out stream leading out of Grensby. Cadwell had surprised himself by agreeing to this strange job, especially since it meant working with strangers. Working with the one who called herself The Dart would probably not be a problem; she seemed to know how to handle herself. Why they had brought the other two with them, he could not fathom. A young inexperienced girl and a tavern-worker the size of a child. Madness, he thought to himself. There was nothing to be done about it, though. Grigor had offered the job to the four of them, and he wanted all four of them to partake.
“The roads are too dangerous for two people alone,” Grigor had said. Not the greatest of reasons, but he was adamant that Na and Thim joined them. They might serve as cannon fodder, if nothing else. Considering The Dart was armed with nothing more than a few daggers, and Cadwell only had a claymore to his name, he was not so sure the four of them would be enough, anyway. Considering how much money their employer was willing to part with, Cadwell had divined that this ‘band of bandits’ Grigor spoke of was perhaps a bigger threat than he was letting on. That was a risk Cad had to take, though. He needed the money. No way to reach my target without money, he thought, riding on.
Even here, a few leagues away from Grensby, the land remained barren and desolate. Whatever this alleged spell truly was, it had clearly changed the surrounding area. Where once trees most likely stood, there was now naught but cacti and tumbleweeds. This arid landscape was of the unforgiving kind, but at least it made for swift travel. “Ride south for half a day,” Grigor had said. “Ride south for half a day, and you will reach a manor that stands under my protection.” He had then gone on to explain how, about a week ago, a group of thugs had overrun the place and claimed it for themselves. When asked why it had not been protected, Grigor had simply shrugged, and said, “It hadn’t even crossed my mind that someone would attack such an insignificant building. The only big place remotely close to it is Velema, but there are no criminals in Velema! In any case, you go to the manor, get rid of the bandits, bring back any deeds and contracts they haven’t burned. Do this, and your payment will not be in silver moons, but in golden suns.”
That was all he had to say about the mission. Suspiciously little, Cad thought.
Florianna did not yet trust the old man riding alongside her, and she was normally quick to trust. She trusted Thim, mainly because she could not see someone as small as him being a threat. The Dart she trusted too, on account of them having had an entire conversation together. But Cadwell… “Excuse me, Cadwell?”
“Cad is fine, if you prefer,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the path. While Na and Thim constantly had to control their steeds to make them behave, Cad’s horse appeared to understand precisely what he wanted it to do without him saying a word.
“Who are you? What’s your story?”
“Does it matter, as long as I keep you alive?”
Florianna did not have an answer to that. A few moments passed, before Cadwell continued, “Tell you what. You prove bringing you and the kid along wasn’t a mistake, and maybe I’ll tell you after the job’s done.”
“I’m not—”
“Well, you sure look like one.”
They rode on in silence.
As noon turned to afternoon, spots of green finally began appearing around the group, and they even stumbled across a new stream, much to the delight of their horses. Thim looked off towards the horizon, and his gaze was drawn to a small valley perhaps one league away. In it, he saw what had to be the manor that they had been tasked with finding. It was the only building in sight, probably on account of the strange and unforgiving climate. I never got much use of my eyesight in the tavern, but perhaps that will all change out here, he thought, realizing that none of the others had yet spotted it. “Over there, the manor! You see it?” he asked, looking at the others. They did not, but spurred on by his discovery, they picked up the pace. After a few more minutes, the others, too, saw their target.
“Why would Grigor own a manor all the way out here?” asked Na.
“Probably a good place to conduct business you want to keep private.” The Dart had already dismounted from her horse, stretching her legs. “And there was probably a time when people used to live around here.”
As Cadwell began distributing the rations, which Alf had been kind enough to prepare for them, Thim found himself wandering down the stream. Something further down had caught his eye. At first, he had thought it to be nothing more than a rogue piece of driftwood, but upon closer inspection he found it to be an old, weathered signpost, stuck at the edge of the stream. Being careful not to slip into the cold water, he placed one boot into the water, made sure he was balanced, and grabbed the signpost, heaving it out of the stream. Illegible. Whatever the signpost had once said, its markings were now long gone.
“What’s this, Thim?” asked Florianna as the Aeni made his way back to the group.
“A signpost!”
“And… why do we need a sign?”
“It is not for us! Would anyone be kind enough to lend me a dagger?”
Thim was not a master craftsman, but as he stopped to admire his work a few minutes later, he could not help but be proud of his creation. The previously illegible sign now served as an important warning. Into the old wood, he had carved a few well chosen words.
BE WARNED!
UNFORGIVING DESERT!
“There, that should do it,” he said, mainly to himself. “Where do you reckon I should place it?”
The rest of the group, more interested in their rations than their comrade, gave no answer.
“Here should do it!” Thim decided. “Don’t want anyone walking into this place unprepared. I’ve lived in Grensby all my life, but never realized how hostile this environment can be.”
“Hey, Thim? Settle down for a second, eat your food. Else we might just feed it to the horses.”
Thim was decently sure The Dart was joking, but he complied nonetheless. “Typical aeni,” Cad scoffed. “Great at doing anything but what you’re supposed to.”
“Oh, like when he saved your life back in the tavern?” asked The Dart.
“He didn’t—”
“Look!” said Na. “We’ve got company!”
Approaching from further down the road were two young men, both dressed in expensive velvet. They looked to be a hundred feet away from the group, and one of them was limping severely. “Excuse me, hello!” the limping man shouted. As the two men came closer, it became apparent they had been in a fight recently; bruises and cuts adorned their faces and arms.
“That’s close enough,” said Cad firmly, putting one hand on the hilt of his sword.
The two men both put up their arms. “You will take no harm from us! No, no, we have had enough of that for one day, let me tell you. Haven’t we, Engelbrecht?” The man turned to his limping friend,
“Quite,” Engelbrecht replied. “Bandits. We live down in that manor over there,” he pointed in the general vicinity of the manor, “and as we were returning home, an ambush!”
Thim frowned. “But—”
“Please continue, what happened to you?” interrupted The Dart.
“Well, our day began as any other, our wine tasted as sweet as ever, our breakfast was as delicious as—”
“The ambush?”
“Oh, of course. Yes, we had gone out for a walk, to enjoy the fine day. Upon our return, perhaps a hundred yards from the manor, bandits!” Engelbrecht gesticulated broadly. “Four, perhaps five! Simple scoundrels, truly, no match for someone as prepared as you, but against us, they had no trouble. Beat us up quite good, fleeced us for all we had, and left us there in the dirt!”
“People rich as you don’t have guards?” asked Cad, making no effort to hide his suspicion.
The two men looked at each other. “We have raised the same concern to our father many times! He keeps saying there is no need for guards this far out in t
he wilderness, but clearly he does not know what he is talking about!”
“So,” said The Dart, “what is your plan now?”
The two men looked at each other once more. “Well…” began the one who had not given his name, “As it so happens, we were hoping to run into people just like you! Mercenaries, as you clearly are, were our best bet. Our father, the Baron, would pay you handsomely if you could take care of these bandits, lest they scavenge the entire manor!”
“Your father isn’t home?”
“Oh… no, he and his entourage went out earlier, headed to Arlsby on business.”
“Of course he did,” said The Dart. “So… you guide us to the manor, we take care of your bandit problem, you pay us… shall we say twenty suns each?”
The two men shone up, smiles covering their faces. “See, Engelbrecht, I knew these people would be sympathetic to our situation! Twenty suns sounds more than fair, but please, let us make haste.”
It did not take long for the group to pack up their belongings, and, after Thim had made sure his sign stood firm, they made off, the two baron-sons leading the way.
About half a league from the manor, Engelbrech broke the silence. “To think, even as far out as this, bandits rove the lands, and have the gall to strike at our mansion!”
“Where there’s coin, there’s bandits,” said Cadwell.
“I suppose you’re right. Luckily for us, these ones do not look as intimidating as you do, no offense.”
Cad replied with a grunt that either signaled indifference or disapproval, but did not speak. He has a point, though, thought Na. Cadwell is twice the size of anyone I’ve ever seen, and he looks like he’s fought a hundred swordsmen.
Na’s thoughts were interrupted by Thim pulling on her sleeve. “Hey!” he whispered. “What’s going on? Are we at the wrong manor? Grigor didn’t mention a baron!”
“I—”
“Ah, we’re almost there!” said Engelbrecht. The last hundred yards leading up to the manor were filled with well-kept bushes and small trees, the kind which perhaps once inhabited Grensby, too.
“Thim, Florianna, tie up the horses around those trees over there, would you?” said The Dart. They had walked to the manor on foot, so as to keep even pace with the two baron-sons.
With their horses secured, they continued for a few yards. This close, the sheer size of the manor became apparent. From a distance, it had looked like nothing more than a large house, but now it rivalled the size of a small castle. It must have been four floors high, and spacious enough to house all of Grensby within its polished wooden walls.
Engelbrecht stopped, and said, “Now then, here we are. Thank you for being so eager to help us. It makes our job—”
“Cad?” said The Dart, indicating the young man with her head.
Before Engelbrecht had a chance to finish his sentence, he found Cadwell’s arm, thrice the size of his own, around his neck, restraining him. In the same instant, The Dart placed a dagger, which she had seemingly materialized from thin air, up against the other man’s throat. “Now… you tell us where your friends are hiding.”
“What are you talking about? We’re sons of the Baron, told you as much!”
Cad tightened his grip. “Tell us something different. There’s no baron in these parts. Thim!”
“Yes?”
“Come over here. Let’s see if this ‘baron-son’ carries any weapons. Girl, you take the other one.”
Thim took a few tentative steps forward, with Florianna close beihnd, just as hesitant. “What’s going on? When did we plan this?”
“Just do it, kid.”
Thim approached Engelbrecht, who had given up his futile struggle against Cad’s arm. “So do I just…” Thim began. “Well, I’ve never had to disarm a man before. How do I—”
“The little man can navigate through that battlefield of a tavern with ease, but he can’t open a damn pocket,” Cadwell scoffed, and turned his attention to Engelbrecht. “You seem like the kind of boy to carry a knife. Where is it?”
“Two! Belt and right ankle. But I must insist you release me at—”
“Think you can manage it now, Aeni, or should we ask him about the color and weight of his little daggers too, just to be sure?”
Thim contemplated a retort, but decided this was not the time nor the place. He relieved Engelbrecht of his weapons, and Florianna approached the other man to do the same. When The Dart saw her approach, she held up her other hand. In it was a large seax. “Already taken care of. Thanks, though.”
“So… what now?” said Florianna. “We should probably let them scurry off, now that they’re unarmed?”
“Or...” The Dart put her dagger ever closer to the man’s throat. “What if we used them to weed their accomplices out of hiding? Or, worst case scenario, as human shields?”
“Time to move, buddy,” Cadwell agreed.
The group slowly made their way past the thorntrees and tumblebushes, keeping the two men in front of them. When they finally spotted signs of life from the manor, they were but fifty yards away from the two white-oak doors that marked its entrance. “Lots of movement in there,” stated Cad.
“What, you having second thoughts all of a sudden?”
“I think Cadwell has a good point,” Thim chimed in. “Maybe walking up to the manor with our knives at these men’s throats gives the wrong impression?”
Before The Dart had time to consider this proposition, the doors were flung open. Out stepped a young man, probably around Na’s age. He was not very tall, nor especially muscular, yet he carried himself with the confidence of a man twice his size. His long, ashen hair was tied up in an intricate knot, indicating he was a man of wealth. His clothes, however, were those of a common farmer, ragged and torn. “Friends!” he shouted, approaching the group. “I come alone, so I hope you will see fit not to murder my colleagues.” The young man spoke with a heavy accent that was hard to pinpoint.
“You carry any weapons?” Cadwell shouted back.
The young man laughed. “I do, I do. And I am afraid I will not relieve myself of them.” He saw Cadwell beginning to protest, and held up his hand. “Rest assured, my friend, that I will not, unless absolutely necessary, use any weapons against you or your friends. Although…” he threw a look at Engelbrecht, “you people apparently do not live by the same philosophy.”
“Sorry, are you the leader of these bandi… these people?” asked Florianna.
“That’s okay friend, no need for euphemisms. We are bandits, no two ways about it. And I am our leader, no two ways about that either. Well… Bernt probably thinks it’s up for debate, so don’t tell him.” The man stepped closer, now perhaps twenty yards away. “But where are my manners? Since we are now friends, it is only fit we introduce ourselves! I am Jaio of Laentar, at your service.” He lowered his head in an exaggerated bow. “It seems you’ve already met my friends. The man being suffocated is Otmar, and the man with a dagger to his throat is Leo, although if they followed my instructions, they would have given you different names.”
Cadwell chuckled. “If I was named Otmar, I’d want to give a false name too.”
“Ah, you hear that, Otmar? The old man has now bested you both with his strength and his wit. This is not a good day for you, not a good day at all. In any case,” said Jaio, “I believe it is now time for you people to return the favor and give us your names. You can of course make up names if you prefer, it’s just to ease communication. Honesty does go a long way, though.”
“Cadwell.”
“Flori… Na.”
“Dart.”
“Samson.” Thim’s lie was quick and convincing.
“Ah, an interesting bunch. Quite interesting indeed.”
The Dart met Jaio’s gaze. “Quite interesting yourself. Heard all types of rumors about Laentar, none of them especially flattering.”
“Ah, we have a historian in our midst. You’re quite right, Dart, although I prefer not to speak of my homeland. No
t without adequate amounts of alcohol, at least.”
“I heard that Laentar fell, that it is no more.”
“And few will miss it.”
“Enough,” interrupted Cadwell. “This manor isn’t yours, and we’re here to reclaim it. Pack your things and leave, and nobody has to get hurt. I’d like to have my reward by nightfall.”
“Ah, you see, I believe this is where our friendship meets an obstacle,” said Jaio. “You want the manor, and we want the manor. At the moment, though, the Gods have seen fit to give us the manor.”
“There are no—”
“But let me ask you this, why do you want this manor? I heard you mention a reward, so if I were to hazard a guess, what you truly want is the reward that comes with it. A perfectly reasonable demand, of course. But we, you see, we need this manor. Bernt and Amara are injured, and the weather has been terrible as of late. We need a place to stay, a place to survive. We only trouble those dumb enough to travel this way, and we don’t kill if we can avoid it. You people, for instance, I have no intention whatsoever of harming.”
“We’ve been offered twenty-five golden suns each,” said The Dart, loosening her grip on Leo ever so slightly.
“Fifty suns each, did you say?” Jaio said with a smile. “Now that is a very fine price indeed, one I would gladly match. And all you would have to do…” the Laentarian made a dismissive gesture, “is walk away.”
At the same time as Jaio made his gesture, Thim thought he spotted something in the corner of his eye. Looking over to the left, he confirmed his suspicions. Someone had left the manor through one of its windows. The others were too busy with Jaio to notice. “Hey, Cadwell!” he whispered, trying to alert the big man.
“No,” said Cad. “No, we do not negotiate with the likes of you. As much of an idiot as our employer may be, we told him we’d get rid of you, and we will. Now, for the last time—”
“Cad!” Thim’s voice was oozing with desperation.
“For the last time, leave this place.”
