The Fractured Heartstone

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The Fractured Heartstone Page 2

by Ian Thornburrow-Dobson


  “What the bloody hell are you going on about?” one of the revellers spat. His words intoned into the ears of the stranger and they stared at him with vacant and slack-jawed expressions plastered over their features. They continued to glare through a drunken haze. “You need to clear off,” he bellowed uncertainly.

  “Yeah, before me and the lads give you a good thumping,” another of the group yelled.

  “Yeah, what Bredil said,” the first man yelled.

  The leather armour-clad stranger’s eyes scanned the group. They were all garbed in simple peasant clothing, save for the one who was seated. He bent forward suddenly in a vain attempt to prevent the rest of his stomach contents from becoming a permanent decoration on the cobbles. He had an expensive belt holding up his soiled trousers that looked very much out of place. One of his cohorts bent down to help him. A sudden smattering of coins rained onto the cobblestones and a light tinkling noise accompanied the comical display as they fumbled around half blindly.

  The stranger stepped forward as the group collectively forgot about their threat and tried to grasp at their ill-gotten gains greedily. Bredil, the most perceptive of the group, looked up and saw the crest of the city Guard on the stranger’s armour. He slapped at his friends awkwardly to rouse their attention. However, in spite of his best attempts he merely slapped his comrade in the face with surprising strength. The one sat on the chair swore violently and grasped his nose as a thick stream of crimson gushed from his nostrils. The Guardsman suppressed a laugh with his hand resting on his hilt meaningfully.

  “I don’t know whose turn it is with the one brain cell you have among you but the situation is this. I am Ydari Astaugh, Captain of the city watch and that man...” Ydari paused, pointing at the drunken wretch currently holding back rivulets of blood, “is a prime suspect in a murder. But since I’m feeling in a generous mood, I’m more than happy to extend an invitation to all of you to spend a night in our lovely dungeons. Breakfast is served at eight sharp,” the Guardsman said dryly.

  “You must be completely mad. There’s no way we’re going with you!” Bredil screamed. “There’s four of us and only one of you,” he finished gleefully.

  “By the Gods,” Ydari swore incredulously. “You had better pray for a crowbar with which to pry my foot out of your arse.”

  The brigands were taken aback by the abruptness of Ydari’s challenge. Bredil was the first to react, extracting a stiletto from his belt and waved it through the air threateningly as if he were somehow casting a magical wand that would somehow disarm the situation. His cohorts took up the signal and they too withdrew their daggers; all save for the thief currently clutching his face. He remained sitting on the ground. He reached up a hand and clasped the hem of Bredil’s stained tunic and desperately tried to claw himself back to a vertical stance.

  “Let go of me you bloody fool,” Bredil swore. He shoved the invalid back down irritably before booting him in the ribs. “We’ll help you later Fraelden.”

  “Elhaer’s tits!” swore Fraelden as he clutched his stomach, searing pain coursing through his body with every breath.

  Ydari smirked and merely remained firmly rooted on the spot, his hands dangling at his sides. The thieves were unnerved by his lax demeanour and their fervour of a few moments before waned in the face of the Guardsman’s calm attitude and apparent disregard for the danger he now found himself in. The group of ruffians shared a quick glance before Bredil screamed a blood-curdling cry of defiance and dashed toward his foe. Ydari suddenly sidestepped the clumsy attack and span on his heel acrobatically. Before Bredil could turn to face his opponent, he felt a clubbing blow smashing into the back of his head. The thief fell to the ground unceremoniously.

  Bredil scrambled to his feet and slashed at the air furiously. Ydari backed away from the man’s frenzied slashing and the dull footsteps of Bredil’s gang alerted him to a new danger from behind. The Guard Captain became a motion blur as he retreated from the stiletto wielding mad man while simultaneously spinning on the spot, his elbow rising high into the air before finding its mark and crashing into the head of his foe with a resounding thud. The thief swore loudly as he stumbled blindly backwards. Ydari sensed that now was the time to take advantage of his opponent’s disorientation. He jumped with ease, kicking his feet out in front of him. The soles of Ydari’s boots connected full force into the flat of his opponent’s chest and the sheer force sent him rocketing backwards. He spun and fell face-first into Fraelden’s curled form and their heads smashed into one another, sudden agony rearing through both of their skulls.

  Bredil meanwhile danced eagerly as he was joined by his one remaining ally who was still on his feet. Ydari turned to face the two cut-throats, an expression of mock sympathy upon his visage. Bredil nodded once and he yelled angrily at the Guard Captain as he blundered his way into another attack. Once again, the strike was telegraphed and Ydari struck with terrifying precision. He unsheathed his own dagger and, in one smooth motion, he sunk the blade deep into Bredil’s shoulder. The thief squealed in agony and blood began pouring from the wound. Ydari kept a tight grip on the blade and he twisted it viciously, Bredil’s howls of pain reaching fever pitch in response. The final brigand hesitated before he dropped his dagger. He turned to run but out of nowhere another man, also clad in the leather armour of the city watch, thrust out an arm and brought it crashing into the thief’s throat.

  “There you are Lothram,” Ydari said cheerfully. His eyes rounded on the newcomer but he kept a tight grip on his dagger and the writhing form of Bredil. “So good of you to join in the fun.”

  “I always thought you had a flair for theatricality, but I never imagined this,” Lothram grunted. “Are you planning on walking this one back to the Guardhouse like that? If so, I’ll have my hands full with these three fools.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” Ydari intoned. He nodded, a wry grin on his face. The Guard Captain yanked the dagger out in one quick movement and Bredil’s answering cry filled the night air. The thief dropped to the ground clutching his shoulder, trying to stem the blood now oozing from the jagged wound. “Well that was amusing while it lasted,” said Ydari in an offhand manner. He cast his eyes on Bredil’s writhing form and the rest of the scattered cut-throats. “Would you be a dear and help me clean up this mess?”

  “Of course, it’s what I’m paid to do,” Lothram grunted. The Guard set about the task of dragging the wounded men to their feet whilst making a point of drawing his sword and holding it in a threatening manner. “You know I’ve never found your remarks funny. Have I told you that before?” asked Lothram.

  “Frequently,” Ydari replied.

  The two Guardsmen stood the band of brigands on their feet in single file and nodded once to one another, understanding the task that lay before them. The pale light of the Inn’s lanterns illuminated Lothram’s face and he could see the lines that wrinkled his relatively youthful face. Lothram was a head shorter than the Captain but he had a stockier build and his shoulders appeared to have been wrought from stone. The rest of his frame was solid muscle and his face spoke of experience beyond his forty-five years. He had dull grey eyes and a broad nose that intersected his face perfectly at the mid-way mark. Unlike the Captain’s, Lothram’s armour was in better condition, since he spent his off-hours diligently keeping his weapons and armour in pristine condition. The two Guards cast their eyes about their collection of prisoners and were satisfied to see the fight had been driven from them.

  In one smooth motion, Ydari signalled to his subordinate and they began marching their prisoners off in an orderly fashion. Their footfalls were the only sound, save for the occasional feral dog barking in some distant alley and the bangs and crashes of the night. Bredil, at the head of his ragtag group, moaned in pain once more before he was silenced with a terse look from Lothram. The rest of his compatriots heeded the silent warning as they were led away slowly through the dimly lit streets.

  ***

  The following mornin
g dawned and sunlight beamed into the room that Ydari now found himself in. However, it was a few minutes before consciousness cleared the final fogs of sleep from the man’s mind and he was able to lift his head from his cot to properly survey his surroundings. The room was small, built for the simple purpose of being Ydari’s bedroom with more functionality than comfort to it. In the corner sat his bed with the door immediately to its left. Across from this was one large window which looked out into one of the many narrow side streets of Maleardhus and as such, the room was always in a permanent state of semi-darkness. Directly in front of the window sat a large desk of rich mahogany, one of the few extravagancies Ydari had indulged himself in. The desk was littered with missives and documents. The important directives from the crown sat amongst an indiscriminate pile of the more mundane fare that the Guard Captain found thrust into his face and always for his immediate attention; as if the immediacy of the document being read somehow alleviated crime in the city or brought forth action that was so desperately required.

  The sides of the room were lined with a small bookshelf and a big wooden cabinet in which Ydari kept most of his personal belongings. It was in this that his armour and sword were kept, though he always kept a dagger close at hand just in case it was needed; prudence always being a sensible option, especially in Maleardhus. After what seemed like hours, Ydari finally roused himself from the cot and stood up. He stretched to get the kinks out from his already overtired body and let out a long yawn. He immediately set about his morning ablutions and had only just pulled on a slightly stained tunic and trousers. A polite knock was heard from the other side of the door. Ydari sighed inwardly and he mutely ignored it. A few moments later the knock was heard again, louder this time.

  Ydari turned to the door and pulled it open gently. On the other side stood another guard and he hesitated with his hand raised up to the door as if he were waiting to knock for a third time. The young man was at least ten years his junior and he had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. His chin was scruffy with stubble and the armour he donned was too large for him, giving him a slightly comical look to go along with the vacant expression that was almost always a permanent fixture on his simple face. Ydari put a hand up to his face and shut his eyes furiously, somehow trying to convince himself that this was an illusion and he was actually still blissfully wading through slumber-land. The young man knocked the air as if to complete some ritual before letting it fall to his side.

  “Uh sir, I have a message from…” the young man began.

  “What is it, Teobrin?” asked Ydari. “It’s too early to be dealing with anything even remotely demanding on my time or the limited brainpower than I can muster right about now.”

  “I have a message from the Queen that I have to tell you at once. Or so I was told. They didn’t specify when I should tell you so I thought I’d keep knocking until you answered the door. Is that what they meant do you think?” Teobrin asked.

  “Something like that,” Ydari replied sardonically. “Don’t worry Teobrin, just deliver your message and let me do the heavy thinking.”

  “The Queen wanted to you to come to the palace,” said Teobrin. He fidgeted on the spot whilst his Captain merely stared at him as if imaging his face frying lightly in a skillet. This lasted for a few seconds before the expansive silence drove him on. “I could tell her you’re busy I guess,” the young man finished.

  “Just give me a little time and if you could relay a message back to the Queen, I’d be grateful. Just tell her that I had tackled some crime in the immediate vicinity of my bed,” said Ydari. The Guard Captain turned to look at the cosy confines of the cot he had been in mere minutes earlier. “In fact, after checking the crime here has been sufficiently dealt with. Now just leave will you,” Ydari replied, almost pleading.

  Teobrin nodded simply and took a step back but remained firmly rooted to the spot. Ydari closed the door slowly, a loud squeal from the protesting hinges whilst the earnest young man continued to remain motionless as the door inched closer to his face. He briefly glanced at the foot of the door and could make out the shadow cast from Teobrin’s feet and groaned audibly before retreating to the desk. He let his hand wander over the pile of paperwork and he errantly lifted a sheet to his face, only half reading the contents of the letter. It was detailing planned engineering works in the old quarter and how the city Guard could best combat crime before the arrival of the workmen. Ydari cast the letter down in a huff and took a seat in the chair to watch the world drift by.

  From this vantage point, Ydari could see a little into the main highway that stretched the entire concourse of the city. Hawkers were setting up stalls, even at this early hour and some of the more enterprising among them were already hollering to would-be buyers, all the while holding handfuls of merchandise. Ydari laughed to himself at the sight before he turned his back on the window. All thoughts of the day’s activities were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a commotion and raised voices. Ydari sighed deeply; it was going to be one of those days, again.

  The Guard Captain hurriedly busied himself with the job of adorning clothes and the tightfitting leather armour that had become a staple of the city watch. It was only mere moments later when a frantic knocking brought the trouble brewing on the other side to his direct attention and, once again, he sighed. Ydari pulled the door open more forcefully than he had intended. Teobrin fell to the floor unceremoniously and he gazed up at his commander’s visage, offering a limp wave of the hand as a greeting. The sight of his cohort lying supine on the concrete brought a smile to his face and, without a word, he stepped over his hapless companion in one smooth movement. The corridor beyond had a number of doorways all leading to various rooms. At the far end it opened into a generous sized waiting area and it was here Ydari saw a young woman shouting vehemently at Lothram, one of his most trusted lieutenants, who merely returned her tirade with a stony-faced stare.

  The sound of the Guard Captain’s approach stopped the woman’s screams momentarily and their gazes met for the first time. Ydari was taken aback at first. He had not expected her to have such striking features and her immense beauty made him pause for a moment. She had shoulder-length flaming red hair and her eyes were a piercing hue of hazel that perfectly accompanied her rounded jaw and a small mouth which was framed by full and luscious lips. She wore a close-fitting white robe and a hood was drawn over her head. Around her neck was an elegant necklace that, to Ydari’s eyes, gleamed with the same magnificence that she too radiated. He couldn’t help noticing that it resembled the ancient symbols associated with mages and he surmised she must be a member of the underclass that were demonised and hated. He stepped up to her and opened his mouth to speak. Before he had the opportunity however, the sound of his bumbling subordinate tore his gaze away and Teobrin clumsily stepped up behind Ydari and tapped him on the shoulder. Ydari slapped his hand away irritably before returning the woman’s fierce gaze once more.

  “Are you the one in charge around here?” she snapped immediately. “I’ve been trying to get the help of someone official for three days and nobody wants to give me the time of day.”

  “It’s ten past nine,” Ydari quipped. She gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing for a moment in disbelief. “First of all, take a breath will you,” Ydari pleaded. “Shall we start with the basics, like what is your name and what business brought you here?” he asked in an equally dry tone. The look that she returned seemed to suggest she had been listening for something with which she could take offence to but merely resigned herself to shrugging her shoulders in an offhand manner. “Alright, I’ll start. I am Ydari Astaugh and I am the leader of this lovable band and this gentleman you’ve been shouting at for the past five minutes is the fun-loving Lothram Grayhame. I’m told he likes to hug puppies,” Ydari said sardonically.

  “Have I ever told you I never found you funny?” Lothram groaned. “Between you and the screaming witch, I think I may need to go and have a lie-down.”

  “I
’m inclined to agree with you there, Lothram,” Ydari started. He turned to face his other underling. “As for you Teobrin if you could be so kind as to deliver the message to the Queen. I’m sure she’s waiting with bated breath at the news of my arrival,” he said jokingly.

  All three of them said nothing for the next few seconds. Behind them, Teobrin remained a mute observer but whatever he had on his mind wouldn’t relent and he began tapping his commander on the shoulder once more. Ydari slapped his hand away and he turned to stare at the vacant-eyed young man before holding a hand up, indicating that he should just wait patiently. Teobrin could not think of anything to say in response. He merely nodded once before retreating down the corridor before any more unwanted attention was directed his way.

  “If you insist on wasting my time, then my name is Raelynne El Thalia and I am a mage,” Raelynne started. She paused hesitantly as if someone would interject at this moment. However, she was met with nothing but silence. “Someone stole something of mine that has incredible value and I want you to find whoever took it and get it back,” the mage continued.

  “Look, lady. We police the entire city. We don’t have time to track down whatever it is you people carry around,” Lothram snapped. This drew a look of ire from Raelynne while Ydari rested his face in the palm of his hand. “I’m afraid we’ll be unable to help in this matter.”

  “That’s the same reaction I get wherever I go. It’s nice to know some things never change,” Raelynne retorted venomously.

  With that, the mage turned around and preceded to storm out of the watch house. Teobrin looked toward his commander hopefully but Ydari gave chase after the hot-headed woman. He emerged on the street and instantly spotted her retreating figure walking off huffily. The Guard Captain raced after her and she had only just turned the corner into the wide street that acted as the main highway through the white-walled city. It ran the entire length of Maleardhus and massive gates opened up on each end to allow admittance to anyone and everyone that found their way to this part of the world. Ydari spied the usual market stall vendors but this morning he paid them little attention. Instead, his focus was solely on the woman ahead of him and he was tantalisingly close when she abruptly turned on her heel and the look she gave him resembled a wall of daggers.

 

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