by David Bokman
Cadwell scoffed and kicked some loose rocks and gravel away. “She speaks in as many riddles as The Atlas. Real exciting people we’ve found.”
The woman smiled. “The Atlas told me you would dislike him. It seems he was right.”
“The Atlas told me something about revealed secrets and threats. It seems to me he’s bloody insane.”
“Insanity and wisdom are often closely linked. You would know; you’ve spoken to Hako.”
“Insanity and not making any damn sense are also closely linked.”
To that, the mysterious herald did not have an answer.
The Dart and The Atlas had sat in silence for several minutes, observing each other. The Dart was not sure what she was supposed to see. For all she had heard about this mysterious Atlas, he did not seem to be much more than a man. There was certainly something strange about his voice, but that could just as well be some simple arcane trickery. Even Na could probably do something like that soon, and you don’t hear many stories about her. But perhaps it was not only his voice that set him apart. His eyes, too, were odd. They had a murky, grey-brown color, and they never seemed to focus on anything in particular. It looked like The Atlas was just staring off into some invisible point on the horizon even when he was looking straight at her. “What can I do for you, Atlas?” she asked, finally losing her patience.
“You bear a strange name. As do I.”
The Dart pretended to smile. “It’s not really a name, it’s more of—”
“Your friends cannot hear you, and my guards are deaf. You may speak freely.”
“Very well. I come from—”
“—Istig, yes. As do I.” The Atlas spoke unlike anyone The Dart had previously met. His words formed understandable sentences, but he spoke them in such a way that it sounded like a different language altogether.
“So then what—”
“They named me Atlas on my ninth birthday. My naming came later than most, but fortunately it came. It was on account of my understanding of maps. Yours?”
“I was good with a crossbow.”
“Yet I do not see you carry one.”
“I was… very good with it. My naming came on my fourth birthday. Carrying and using one down here would raise too many eyebrows.”
“Yet… our people rarely name children on account of their battle prowess. It often leads to trouble. I sense there is a deeper meaning behind your name.”
“Please, enlighten me.”
The Atlas let out a short, hoarse chuckle. “In any case, you are far from home, Dart.”
“As are you.”
“This is my home now, and it has been for quite some time. But you… You are a wanderer, always dashing from one place to another. Not many people leave Istig. Not many can.”
“I didn’t exactly leave voluntarily.”
“And now you wish to get back. A task close to impossible. And one I discourage you from completing.”
“You don’t want me to go back?”
“It has been a long time since I last saw Istig. It has been a very long time for you, too. The place has changed, and not for the better. Come closer. I will tell you.”
Just as Cadwell found a rock he liked to kick, The Dart grabbed the heralds’ attention and waved them over. It seemed her conversation with The Atlas was at an end. When they had made their way back to The Atlas, he had already picked up another scroll, although it was hard to tell if he was really reading it. “Good talk, Mae?” asked Cad.
The Dart shook her head.
“Now that my conversation with your friend is finished,” The Atlas whispered, “It is time I paid my debt to you. I have accrued much knowledge during my life, and much of it I believe best to share with others. In exchange for you making the journey here, as well as proving your character, I will answer questions from each of you, as truthfully and accurately as I can. As I have always done.”
“I’ll start.” Cad stepped forward. “Who the bloody hell are you? What do you do here? What’s so special about you? Feels like a waste of a journey to me.”
“Like most, you have trouble limiting yourself to one question at a time. Very well. I am The Atlas. In this place, I am a sort of teacher. I do not know if I am special. I am older than most, that is true. I was born roughly six hundred years ago. I was an archivist for many years, in the Kardh’Ao Archive. I was expelled, and now I am here.”
“I can’t imagine why they’d expel someone like you,” said Cad.
“You were an archivist?” asked Na. “Then how come you don’t have the circle symbol on your head?”
“You are perceptive, young arcanist.”
“How do you know—”
“You are correct, but you are also incorrect. Sometimes, what we look for is hidden in plain sight.” The Atlas lightly held his index finger against his forehead. As he did, the familiar circle of Iro showed itself on his forehead, drawn in black ink. He pulled his finger away, and the symbol faded out into nothingness.
“I have another question.” Florianna stepped forward. “What can you tell us about the rifts?”
“A vague question. Very well. You are closer to understanding them than most, yet you are still filled with hesitation. You lack only a few pieces of the puzzle. You must abandon your fear; it is holding you all back. You are standing at the precipice of understanding, and need only take the final step.”
“I… think I understand?”
“You do, yet you do not know it yet.”
“I’ve got a question,” said The Dart, her voice sapped of enthusiasm. “You’re from the north, so you know of Undying Ice. I’ve carried a piece of it with me for… for as long as I can remember. Can you do anything with it?”
The Atlas’ eyes seemed to gain a little bit of focus. “A rare artefact. I have been brought gifts before, but this is different. You do not want to give it to me, you want me to make it useful for you. I did not see this.”
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yes. I can make something with it. Normally, I would perhaps decline, but as you are of my kin, I will accept.”
“Of your kin?” asked Cad.
“He’s from Istig too, or so he says.”
And you? Do you have a question?” The Atlas turned towards Samson.
“I do. Who is she?” Sam pointed at the hooded herald.
“A good question, Thim. She is a seeker of knowledge, like you. Her name is Isa Sharktooth.”
⧫ CHAPTER XXVI ⧫
Tanner Street. Commander Dovan did not know how the Townmaster had figured it out so quickly, but he had learned not to ask such questions. If she said the building was on Tanner Street, it was on Tanner Street. She had not been able to tell him which house, though. No matter, he thought. Tanner Street is small, and there are only a few houses it can possibly be. We’ll find it, and my head will be off the chopping block for a few more days. Dovan did not know the city as well as Stonehand had, but he was familiar with Tanner Street. It was located in the western part of East Kardh’Ao. Makes sense. That’s where I’d place my headquarters, too. Fewer guards and easier targets. As far as the Commander knew, most buildings on Tanner Street were simple housings for the poorer people of the east, not massive bases of operation for criminal syndicates. The perfect place to hide in plain sight, perhaps?
Commander Dovan would be spearheading the operation himself. Too much at stake to leave it to the guards, he thought. He would not be going alone, though. He needed this mission to be a success and had for once decided to bring more men than he thought he would need. I can’t go marching down to Tanner Street with sixty men around me, though, lest I let the bandits know we’re coming from a league away. No, his men would have to employ their skills of subterfuge and patience today. If they have any such skills to speak of, that is.
Dovan was sitting in a tavern a few streets away from Tanner Street when his scout returned. The Commander, like his scout, was in plain clothes. Thankfully, as he had not been com
mander for long, there was a high likelihood people would not recognize him as long as he kept his disguise. Or at least I hope there is. “Well?” he asked as the scout sat down across from him, ale in hand.
“I’ve narrowed it down to two buildings, but it’s impossible to be sure which one.” Vinetta was Dovan’s best scout, and he had worked with her since before the Waterfield Conquest.
Damn it. Zena had told him to use whichever methods he saw fit, and he knew what that meant. But if there are two possible buildings, I can’t raze them both to the ground. “But it cannot be any of the other buildings?”
“No. I have contacts on Beggar’s Alley next to Tanner Street. Solid contacts. And I’ve done a lot of digging myself. The other houses are for common folk and nothing else. It’s one of the two buildings at the northern end of the street.”
“Thank you, Vinetta. When the time comes, I want you to find a spot overlooking the street. If you see anyone fleeing the scene, tail them.”
“Happy hunting.” She downed her ale, and two breaths later she was gone.
Dovan could almost hear the Townmaster’s voice in his head, telling him what he should do. “Burn them both down, then. One house is a small price to pay to be rid of this pest.” Yet even though he knew that was what she wanted, he was not sure he could bring himself to do it. The other house could be empty, or it could be home to ten innocents. Not a wager I wish to take. There must be another way.
The Commander had decided to take a closer look at the two buildings himself before deciding what to do. It’s still midday. There’s plenty of time. He knew he could not spend too much time out in the open before the raid, though. Even in this part of town, with his disguise on, it was only a matter of time until someone recognized him, and then word would spread quickly. I’ll go down, take a look, and make a call.
Tanner Street was narrow, too narrow to fit more than a few men walking next to each other. There were perhaps a dozen houses on either side in total, standing close together. This has to be one of the few places where it’s hard to tell if you’re in the west or the east, Dovan thought, looking at the simple, worn-down buildings. This close to the coast, the smell of the sea also made itself more apparent. Mixed with the filth of the street and the strange smells of the port, it made for a uniquely unpleasant stench. When the rain, which made your clothes heavy and your boots muddy, was added into the mix, Tanner Street turned into one of the least welcoming places in East Kardh’Ao.
Walking past the first rows of houses, Dovan could not help but agree with Vinetta. These are not the houses the bandits would use, not even if they wanted to blend in. He could not say why; perhaps it was only because Vinetta had told him so. They just feel too… too normal. The Commander would have had trouble describing even one of the twenty or so houses he walked past on his journey to the end of the street; they all looked equally mundane. When he came close enough to get a good look at the last two buildings, he slowed down. I can’t stop right in front of them, that would give it all away. Instead, he would have to glean as much information as he could while walking past them at a leisurely pace.
The building to the left was one of the bigger ones in the street, made of old, dry wood. Its entrance was a double door in surprisingly good condition, as if it had not gotten much use. The building to the right was also larger than most others, this one painted red and of far better quality. How he was supposed to figure out which one of them housed a gang of murderous criminals simply from looking at their exterior, Dovan did not know. But if we don’t strike both buildings at once, if we don’t get the right one… Well, then Zena will have my head. Or more. No, it must be both at once. But perhaps a less violent approach? Damn it, where is Stonehand when you need him?
The closest garrison, where Dovan met up with his men, was roughly ten minutes from Tanner Street. It was small and purpose-built, but it could house all fifty of them without issue. Standing at the center of the small stone tower, Dovan was in the middle of briefing his men on the plan. “...but we do not know which one of these buildings is home to our targets. Because of this, we have to strike both of them at the same time, leaving the bandits no time to escape. The red building,” Dovan pointed at a quickly drawn map, “seems to only have one exit: the main one. The other appears to have a main exit into the street as well as a smaller side exit to the north. In other words, we’ll need some extra guards stationed outside that one.”
“And when we’re inside?” asked one of the guards.
“Half of you will of course be sent to the wrong house. When you realize you’re in the wrong building, make your way to the other building as fast as you can. Those of you who encounter bandits have free reins. Nobody will bat an eye if you kill them, the Townmaster has assured me. But I would prefer if we kept a few alive, high ranking ones preferably. I’ll have a few scouts posted on rooftops ready to pursue anyone quick enough to escape, so don’t worry about chasing lost causes. Now, as to who’s going where…”
The plan made sense, or at least so Dovan told himself. They would approach from north and south at the same time, cutting off both escape routes. Half of them would go into one building, the other half into the other. Dovan hoped it would not take more than a few moments figuring out if you were in the correct building or not, so they should lose minimal time. Then, with almost all men in one building, they should be able to make short work of the bandits. Just to be on the safe side, he had allowed those who had passed the necessary training to use hand-cannons, the Townsguard’s newest toy, for this mission. Against such firepower, the bandits would prove little resistance. It all sounded good. In theory, at least.
There were still several hours of sunlight left when Commander Dovan set the plan in action. He would lead the squad from the north while Senior Guard Berny would command the southern squad. Normally, Dovan would be worried about leaving such a responsibility in the hands of a senior guard, but in truth he trusted Berny more than any of his captains. It’s probably best that none of them could join us, anyway. I understand that Attila is busy, but the other two are either craven or lazy. It did not matter. He had to focus on the plan.
Dovan and his group would enter the red house, and Berny would take the worn-down one. Neither one of the doors looked like they would need much more than a well-placed kick to open, so Dovan had decided against bringing any sort of siege equipment. Lot harder to approach swiftly and silently when carrying a battering ram, he reasoned. They had enough to think about as it was; the execution would need to be timed to perfection. Dovan and his squad would have to hold off just before the northern mouth of Tanner Street, waiting for Berny and his men to get further up the street. If he waited too long, though, the bandits may spot Berny’s men and flee to the north before he had time to intercept them. But if he showed himself too early, he risked the bandits overpowering them before Berny had time to catch up. Or perhaps we get there, and nobody is home. Or perhaps our intel is wrong. No, it is right, and they’ll be there. They have to be.
The Commander snapped back to reality, standing barely out of sight near the corner to Tanner Street. Vinetta had found a suitable roof to the north, giving her a clear look. She would indicate to Dovan when it was time for him to approach. After a few more heartbeats, she did, by dropping a small rock from the roof down onto the muddy ground below. “Okay! Let’s go!” Dovan told his men. As they took the turn into Tanner Street, they spotted Berny and his men halfway up the street. Perfect timing, he thought. Now all we have to do is tighten the noose. The few commoners who were out and about quickly realized they did not want to interfere with half a hundred guards armed to the teeth, and quickly dispersed. The sound of four dozen heavily armed and armored guardsmen marching quickly through the street was probably loud enough to wake the people of the neighboring towns, but at this point, Commander Dovan was not worried about stealth. Now it is time to be swift, not stealthy. He gestured to Berny to pick up the pace and got into position in front of the door to
the red house. If the bandits are to fight or flee, they must do so now, he thought. While their timing had been good, these precious few seconds still gave the criminals some room to maneuver. Let’s hope they do not use it. Let’s hope they did not hear us.
For a moment, Dovan thought he heard something to the north. Vinetta? He quickly disregarded it. If it is her, she knows how to handle herself. You focus on handling your part of the mission. Standing outside the door, Dovan could hear some commotion from inside, but that was to be expected whether there be bandits or commoners behind the door. Not even a saint would feel innocent if half a hundred guardsmen came knocking. He just hoped no saints would interfere with his plan.
“Townsguard! Stay where you are!” Dovan had shouted the words a hundred times, but he was still filled with adrenaline every time. Today, even more so. As he walked past the kicked-in door and into the red building, he was met by…
A dinner table. A dinner table occupied by two young adults and two young children, all in the middle of a prayer. “...and may Vai show pity on us and protect those we love from the evil embrace of death, and—” As Dovan entered, their prayer came to a premature end. One of the adults, a man ten years younger than Dovan, grabbed a knife from the table and stood up. “What the hell is this? What do you want?”
“Stay where you are!” said Dovan, taking a step closer to the man.
“Get out of my house! I ain’t done nothing!” The man, too, took a step closer.
“I said stay where you are!” Dovan began unsheathing his blade, which only served to further agitate the man, who took another step forward. Damn it. Dovan, blade drawn, pounced at the man, sinking the longsword into his chest. “You and you,” Dovan pointed at two of his guards, “search the house for trapdoors, hidden compartments, anything. The rest—”
“Commander Dovan!” Berny had always had a strong voice and a stronger scream. To be heard over the others, he needed it. “They’re over here!”
