by Pedro Urvi
Lasgol saw that his hands were those of a man who worked with them a lot: weathered, cracked, large and strong. Helmond turned and went on with what he was doing, which was greasing bows to protect them.
He went on up the spiral stairs to the third floor. When he opened a door into a huge room, he saw five Rangers working behind three large desks. On one of the walls hung large, detailed maps of different regions of Norghana. On another of the walls, the maps were of foreign kingdoms and distant regions of Tremia. Lasgol stared at all this in amazement. The other two walls held shelves full of reference tomes. The Rangers who were working there were all busy writing, some on parchments, others in tomes. They did not seem to notice that he had opened the door.
He cleared his throat.
One of them looked up. “Yes, Ranger?” he asked without paying him too much attention.
“I’m looking for Ranger Liriuson.”
The Ranger pointed to the end of the room and went on working. They all looked very busy. As he walked past them, Lasgol took a quick glance and realized that they were writing mission orders. This must be where they were prepared. He thought it most curious. As he passed one of the maps of Norghana he noticed that it was covered in pins, each with a ribbon with what seemed to be something written on it. The writing was too small for him to read, but he was so piqued by curiosity that he used his Hawk’s Eye skill to see what it said. To his great surprise he could read the names of Rangers on missions, whose locations were recorded in this curious way. He would have to tell this to Egil, who would love it. Perhaps he already knew, since he was in charge of the mail at the Camp and worked directly with the capital, with those same Rangers, all the time.
Ranger Liriuson was a man in his seventies, bald, with thick white eyebrows. He was looking down in concentration at the parchment he was writing on. The whole huge table was covered with papers and tomes.
“Ranger Lasgol Eklund reporting.”
Liriuson finished the sentence he was writing and looked up, so that Lasgol now saw his face. His features were very sharp, and his eyes grey, but his most striking feature was his large curved nose, like a vulture’s.
“Orders, please,” he said. His voice was soft and calm.
Lasgol handed him his orders, and Liriuson read them attentively, without hurrying.
“Fine. Just a moment,” he said, and went on writing.
Lasgol, not knowing what to do, went on standing in front of the desk, looking at the incredible maps he presumed the Green Cartographers from the Specialty of Nature must have drawn.
Suddenly a sixth Ranger came into the hall and opened a large sack. “I’m going up to the pigeon-house. Orders, please.”
The five Rangers each gave him a handful of scrolls, and the Ranger put them in the sack, ready to send. Lasgol wondered where the pigeon-house was: probably on the top floor of the tower.
Liriuson took out a whistle from one of the drawers in his desk and blew on it three times. Lasgol feared that the sound would pierce his eardrums. Nothing was further from reality, as it happened: they were barely audible. Neither Liriuson nor the other Rangers moved a muscle and simply went on with their work. Suddenly a new Ranger entered the hall and came up to Liriuson’s desk.
“Take Ranger Lasgol Eklund to our renowned leader Gondabar,” he said to the Ranger. At the same time, he gave Lasgol back his orders, and the Ranger bowed respectfully.
Lasgol wanted to say goodbye to Liriuson, but he had already begun to write on another piece of parchment, not raising his eyes from it, so he had no choice but to follow the Ranger. They left the hall and went up one floor.
“These are Gondabar’s personal quarters,” said the Ranger. “Nobody can come in without permission.”
Lasgol saw an anteroom with a long seat. At the far end was an oak door with two Rangers guarding it. “Okay,” he said.
“The upper floors of the tower are occupied by the Royal Rangers. Don’t go in unless invited. They don’t like snoops, not even our own people.” He winked.
He left Lasgol in the anteroom and went in to see Gondabar. Soon he came out again and beckoned Lasgol who went in hurriedly. He found himself in a corridor with three doors, and the Ranger knocked on the one on the left.
“Come in,” came a voice. The Ranger gestured toward the door and left.
The leader of the Rangers was sitting behind a large desk ornamented with natural motifs, artistically carved. Once again Lasgol was surprised by how old he looked. He must have been in his eighties, but he looked even older, with a gaunt body and a long, sharp, prominent nose. He had almost no hair left, and his face was wrinkled by time and a hard life. He looked stern, but the deep gaze of his eyes revealed a hint of kindness.
Lasgol handed him his orders. “Master King’s Ranger, Ranger Lasgol Eklund at your service,” he said formally.
Gondabar looked him up and down, studying him.
“Yes, I remember you. You’re a Ranger one doesn’t forget.”
“Thank you, sir,” Lasgol replied. He was unsure whether the comment was a compliment or a reproach.
“You have two Elite Specialties, which are they?” Gondabar asked.
Lasgol showed him his two medallions: “Beast Whisperer and Tireless Tracker,”
“Both are very difficult. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“What familiar do you have?”
“A Snow Panther, sir.”
“Oh, that’s excellent. But you haven’t brought her with you, have you? The city is no place for a panther. We’d have problems.”
“No sir. I left her in the forest, not too far away.”
“Ah, very well, that’s good.”
“Will I be able to go and visit her?”
“Of course, as long as it’s not too often. She must get used to your absence and to waiting for you. You won’t always be able to take her with you – for your own good and for hers.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
The leader of the Rangers read the orders.
“True… true. These orders are from my own hand.”
“I came as soon as I received them.”
Gondabar nodded. “Good. Dolbarar wrote to me and told me everything that happened in the North. It’s troubling news, and the King will want to hear about it. I’ll tell him as soon as I’m granted a personal audience with him. He’s very busy with all the preparations for the war with the West.”
“I can imagine, sir,” Lasgol said. He would have loved to find out what Thoran was planning.
“The other matter of gravity that Sigrid has told me about is what happened at the Shelter, this business of the Dark Rangers.”
Lasgol was surprised that Gondabar would even have mentioned it. Dolbarar had flatly refused to do so.
“Yes, sir. I was attacked by one of them,” he explained, trying to see whether Gondabar genuinely felt they were real, or if he, like Dolbarar, was going to deny it.
“Sigrid explained to me. There have been unusual rumors about this group for a while now. I never gave them much credibility, but this attack, and other strange events, are beginning to worry me. I think it’s time to stop denying the possibility that this group exists within our beloved corps. We need to find out what’s behind all this, and how much of it is true. That’s what I intend to say to our leaders. I don’t want any unpleasant surprises because we failed to investigate thoroughly when we should have done so. The war, and our service to the King, are our main concern at this moment. All the same, I don’t like the implications of having a group of traitors in the shadows, still less if they’re our own people. We need to protect the integrity of the corps. Pull out the weeds, destroy the poisoned seeds before they germinate and contaminate others. I have to admit that we may have let our attention lapse lately. We’ve been too focused on those events that involve the crown, the war with the Frozen Continent, and now this civil war. It’s possible that things have been going on and we haven’t noticed becau
se of this. I intend to remedy that. There’ll be no dissidents operating on the margins of the Path and the law of the kingdom among our people, not as long as I’m the leader of the Rangers.”
Lasgol muffled a gasp. “Yes, sir,” he said. The fact that Gondabar accepted the rumors as true and wanted to look into them was a huge step forward. He had been afraid that the Leader too would refuse to believe in their existence.
“Have you any idea why the Dark Rangers should want to kill you?” Gondabar asked. He was looking at him inquisitively.
“Well… actually, no… I haven’t the slightest idea why.”
“This is something we need to find out, and it may help us trace who’s behind this secret organization.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Lasgol offered.
Gondabar raised a hand. “At this moment, and until we have more information, your main goal is to keep out of their reach and alive. I’ll be honest: you’re no good to us dead. It wouldn’t help to establish who the Dark Rangers are, and most important, who their leaders are. Don’t misunderstand me: I’m concerned about your wellbeing, you’re a Ranger, one of our own. I know what I’m telling you may sound cold, but I’d rather tell you the truth. Alive, you might lead us to their leaders. Dead, I doubt it.”
“You want me to act as bait?”
“That’s one way of looking at it… Stay alive and help me unmask whoever is the leader of the organization. That’s what I want. What I’m asking of you.”
“I understand, sir,” Lasgol was grateful for Gondabar’s honesty. He did not pussyfoot around, he was direct, albeit rather cold. Lasgol preferred that to flowery words that hid other intentions.
“That’s why your new destination, until further notice, will be here in the capital, in my service.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Besides, the King has asked me to start bringing the best Rangers closer to the capital. You’re one of the brightest of the new batches, so that in any case, for the moment your place is here.”
Lasgol arched an eyebrow. “One of the brightest?” he asked in surprise. He did not think of himself like that at all. Ingrid, Astrid, Viggo or Molak were much better than he was himself.
“Yes, you’ve been recommended to me personally.”
“Personally?” Lasgol could not help himself asking. He was even more surprised.
“Yes. By someone whose opinion I value greatly.”
“May I ask who, sir?
“You may, but I’m not going to tell you. There are no favorites among our Rangers.”
Lasgol nodded. “Of course, sir.” Deep down inside however, he was wondering who it could have been. Had it been a friendly recommendation? Perhaps from Dolbarar himself, or one of the Master Rangers? From Sigrid, or the Elders of the Shelter? Suppose on the other hand it had been a malicious one? A trap set by the King or his brother? Or by the Dark Rangers? These new orders of Gondabar’s were making him very uneasy. He would rather be anywhere else in Norghana than the capital.
“The first thing I want you to do is to familiarize yourself with the city. Explore it, analyze it, get to know it. A Ranger is outside his natural environment in a great city like this, which is why it’s important to adapt to it. You must be able to carry out your tasks just as well here among stones and people, as in the woods and fields outside these walls. It’s hard. You won’t be the first or the last to find it strange and difficult. Especially if you weren’t raised in a city. Were you?”
“No, sir. I come from a small village.”
“Then you’d better go out and experience the capital. Embrace it, don’t reject it.”
“I’ll do that, sir.”
“Think of it as a new stage in your training.”
Lasgol bowed his head. “I thought I’d finished all my training.”
“A Ranger never stops training and learning. So says the Path, and so we follow it,” Gondabar recited.
“Of course, sir,” Lasgol hastened to agree. He had thought that after the Camp and the Shelter there would be no more training. He was finding out that he still had a lot to learn.
“When you reach my age, you’ll realize that in life all experiences teach us something. Sometimes good things, sometimes less so. Try things out and learn, young Ranger.”
Lasgol nodded in agreement. He knew Gondabar was right. The big city was a different world to the one he was used to, and he needed to get to know it.
“At my leader’s service,” he said with a slight nod, then withdrew.
“Keep your eyes wide open,” Gondabar recommended in farewell.
Lasgol left the hall with an incipient bitterness rising from his stomach to his mouth.
Chapter 25
At dawn the following day Nilsa went to fetch Lasgol for breakfast. In the common dining-room they chatted a little with other Rangers before starting their day. The atmosphere in the tower was very cordial, which pleased Lasgol. He noticed several Royal Rangers, who were sitting at a long table and eating a little apart from the others.
“The Royals are a bit particular, they keep to themselves,” Nilsa commented in a whisper.
“Any special reason?”
She shrugged. “Not really. It’s because they’re the elite corps and they want to maintain their status. That’s what the veterans say.”
“Not mingling with ordinary everyday Rangers like us…”
Nilsa giggled. “That’s right.”
“I think that’s a bit classist.”
“They’re the best and they’ve earned it,” she said in their defense. Her eyes shone with admiration as she watched them.
“True, but even so…. they could be more sociable…”
She nodded in agreement. “They could, it’s true… I’d like to be one of them myself someday.”
“Royal Ranger?”
“Yes, but for that you first have to be a Specialist.”
“Not necessarily. You could be chosen for your distinction in missions, or in war.”
“I know, or else by personal choice of the King. But to become a Specialist first, then try to enter, that’s the most realistic way. That’s what I think.”
Lasgol patted her on the back. “You’ll manage both, I’m sure of that. There’ll be no greater Mage Hunter and Royal Ranger in all Norghana.”
Nilsa blushed. “If only,” she said, looking longingly at the table of the Royal Rangers.
After this they went to see Camu, who was still trying to create the ability to sleep while camouflaged. He had not succeeded yet, but he was persistent.
I do it. You see, he messaged Lasgol.
You might not be able to develop that particular skill…
I can.
Maybe you won’t be able to…
Yes, I able, his friend said stubbornly.
Lasgol sighed deeply. When Camu got something in his head it was all-but-impossible to make him change his mind.
“He’s very headstrong,” he muttered to Nilsa.
Not headstrong.
Lasgol rolled his eyes.
“What’s he doing?”
“You’re better off not knowing.”
“Ugh! Filthy magic!”
Lasgol nodded. “It’s something that’ll help us.”
She crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t want to know, or to be involved.”
“All right. Forget it. We’ll leave him here.”
“I’ve got the key to this room. I can lock it, and then nobody’ll bother him.”
Is that all right with you, Camu?
I succeed.
“He’s okay with it,” Lasgol said. He knew Camu would not move until he admitted defeat. They would have to wait.
Be careful, and don’t let anyone find you’re here.
Camu did not reply. He had fallen asleep again.
Nilsa locked the door behind them and they went down into the courtyard. Here Lasgol stopped to watch the soldiers practicing.
“It occurs to me tha
t I have to deliver a few messages around the city,” Nilsa said eagerly. “You can come with me, and that’ll give me the chance to show you around.”
“Considering that’s just what Gondabar told me to do and I have the best guide in town, it would be wonderful. I should think there are hundreds of things to see in this great city.”
She smiled broadly. “Thousands.”
“As it’s the first day, I’d be happy with a hundred,” Lasgol said teasingly.
“Done,” she replied, and laughed.
As Nilsa ran her errands, she showed him the most interesting parts of the city. First the upper part, home to the nobles and lords with riches and influence. There were noble families from Norghana’s glorious past as well as the nouveau riche, mainly traders who had made their fortune in business. Wars were good business for certain traders, particularly those which involved weapons, information and influence. The noble area was marked by its sober but strongly-built grand houses, in the purest Norghanian style, where the priority was enduring the harsh winters rather than architectural beauty and unbridled luxury of other distant kingdoms, like that, of the Noceans.
At noon Nilsa had to go back to the castle, and Lasgol was left free to roam that area and those to either side. He took the opportunity to see and learn as much as he could, although he felt a little like a fish out of water among so much rock, so many buildings and people – such an incredible number of people. By the time he got back to the castle he was already missing the trees, mountains and rivers outside terribly. He felt a little smothered, as if there was not enough air to fill his lungs. He realized that this was not something physical or real, but he felt it all the same. He hoped he would get used to things, and surely he would manage that before long.
While they ate that evening he told Nilsa about this. It was perfectly normal, she assured him. The same thing had happened to her. It was a sudden and massive change of environment, and the mind needed time to get used to it. She assured him that he had nothing to worry about and that he would acclimatize soon enough. Lasgol, feeling reassured, thanked the redhead for her encouraging words.
