The Mercenary Code

by Emmet Moss

Leoric continued to wonder as Auric led the wagons over a long stone bridge. The span crossed the banks of a river, one that must surely have been diverted from one of the numerous mountain trails of the wilderness. Not only an aesthetic addition to an already startling achievement in architecture, the water also served as a secondary barrier in the city’s defense. It was baffling to envision the sheer number of soldiers it would take to not only attack, but defend the metropolis.

  Once clear of the water, a small squad of goblin warriors arrived to escort the men through a second gate. Here, in what Leoric imagined was the inner city, goblins were far more numerous. The streets were alive with noise, the harsh dialect of the wilderness race still indecipherable.

  Houses here were in better repair, although the ebony wood that adorned the damaged buildings near the outer wall had been replaced by the lighter oak of the surrounding area. Small goblin children played raucously in the streets, and besides their physical differences, Leoric found that they were quite similar to human children.

  Not far beyond the gateway to the inner city, the journey came to an end. Passing into a large compound near an immense warehouse, Leoric followed dutifully behind his companion, stopping the wagon near a large ramp that led into the building itself. With a sigh of regret, he turned his gaze to the task at hand and tried hard to forget the myriad of questions that rattled around in his troubled mind. There would be time to think once the work was done.

  The unloading went much as he had expected. As shadows lengthened across the yard, Auric showed no signs of his age. The older man carried the food stores without so much as a grunt of exertion. They worked in silence, which suited Leoric, and although they had made a significant dent in the supplies, by day’s end there was still much to do. Excited by the prospect of remaining a night within the strange city, Leoric joined Auric inside a small, partially damaged building off to the side of the warehouse. The older man had already started a fire and was happily humming to himself when Leoric approached.

  “I emptied the last of your wagon into the back room,” Leoric said, stooping to enjoy the heat from the flames. “That only leaves a few hours of work in the morning.”

  “Aye, we did well,” Auric grunted. “You work much faster than some of Joram’s fools who come along for the ride.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, old man,” Leoric smiled.

  By nightfall, tired and sore from the day’s hard labour, the two men settled in relatively early. They spoke little, and Leoric soon drifted off to sleep.

  A rough, calloused hand clamped down hard on his mouth, causing Leoric to jolt awake in terror.

  “Hsst! It’s only me.” whispered an unmistakable voice in his ear. Looking up into Auric’s blue eyes, Leoric frowned. “I needed to make sure you wouldn’t make any noise,” the man replied with a sly smile.

  “Why?” Leoric questioned as he struggled to free himself from his blankets. As best he could tell, the night was barely half over.

  “I want to show you something,” the old prisoner replied. Then, motioning for Leoric to follow, he crept silently out the entryway and across the warehouse grounds. With his curiosity mounting, Leoric decided to follow.

  Three times while travelling through the neglected buildings and abandoned causeways, Auric warned Leoric to be quiet. He reluctantly followed the man’s instructions in the hopes that eventually the purpose of the nighttime sortie would become clear. The two men skulked carefully through the city, avoiding the areas populated by the goblin inhabitants. Leoric noticed that Auric treaded the way with confidence. This is definitely not the first time he’s walked this route.

  For a quarter hour they picked their way through the streets, always careful to avoid areas lit by the moonlight. Then, with a deft signal from his guide, Leoric hurried across a final open courtyard and in through the doorway of a tall stone tower.

  The building was musty, and a heavy cloying odor hung in the air of the lower floor. The front foyer of the tower had seen better days. Two once decadent tapestries hung in tatters along the north wall, their bright colours long faded. Of the original pattern, nothing was recognizable. The wooden furniture had decayed over what must have been a long period of time. Even so, Leoric was struck by the elegant craftsmanship of each corroded piece. Curtains had been eaten by moths, and some of the rooms appeared to have been ransacked. Leoric followed Auric up a long stone stairwell that took them up to the highest floor.

  Once at the top, they ducked under a partially collapsed beam and into a small circular chamber. Devoid of any furnishings, there was only a large ragged carpet and a few small candles present. Auric dropped to the floor with purpose, pulling aside the rug to expose a large wooden trapdoor.

  In relatively good repair, the door opened soundlessly. Once open, Leoric peered into the cache and caught his breath. Stacks of parchments, many of them maps drawn in incredible detail, lay concealed beneath the floor.

  “I found a lot of the maps in old basements where the parchments had fended off time far better than in the high towers of the city. Unfortunately little of what I found is written in a language I recognize.” Auric answered the unspoken question. “The goblins, if they even searched some of the homes, did so quickly and without much interest. You assumed that I didn’t try to escape, but I’ve spent time preparing,” Auric explained.

  Amazed by the extent of the materials that lay before him, Leoric stared dumbfounded at his companion. “How many years did it take to find so many?” he asked.

  “Longer than I care to admit,” Auric replied ruefully. “When I started, I was very careful, always watching my back. After a while though, well, the goblins didn’t seem to notice us anymore. I’ve been here so long I don’t think they could even fathom my escaping.”

  Carefully pouring over the detailed maps that lay scattered about under the trapdoor, Leoric still couldn’t believe his eyes. So many years spent dreaming of freedom. How does one stay sane?

  “When?” Leoric asked.

  Auric shrugged his shoulders. “Soon. I’ve spent the last few years memorizing everything on those pages. I figured if I couldn’t smuggle them into the camp, committing them to memory would be the next best thing.”

  “Why are you showing me?” Leoric asked suddenly. Auric had rarely been the friendly sort. That Leoric stood in this tower was dangerous and he was unsettled.

  “I can’t answer that for you, lad. At least not yet, I can’t,” the man responded with his usual evasiveness. “I just know that time is short, and that this knowledge should be shared.”

  “Time is short?” Leoric asked.

  “Never mind that. One day you’ll remember tonight,” Auric answered, peering carefully out the window. Satisfied with what he saw, the prisoner turned back to crouch near one of the large stacks of papers he had pulled free.

  “Why trust me?” Leoric pressed.

  “I never said I trusted you, Leoric,” Auric replied with a disarming look. “Now shush, I need some quiet while I study.”

  Frustrated by the old man’s half-truths and prophetic quips, Leoric could see no other choice than to honour the man’s request. They spent the next few hours perusing the parchments, deftly pouring over the maps and trying to glean any sort of understanding from the strange writings. Leoric spent the majority of his time carefully reading, as best he could, a large map that showed the Wilds as he had never before seen them depicted.

  The wilderness stretched for miles in each direction, far further than he could ever have imagined while walking sentry duty on the battlements of Darkenedge. The woods still fell far short of rivalling the monstrous Aeldenwood, but it was impressive in its own right. The river that his small battered company of captives had crossed was marked and Leoric was excited by an indication that a large bridge lay to the north, spanning the body of water. Escape, for so long such a far-off and buried dream, quickly becam
e a reality once more.

  Auric’s voice broke the silence. “I believe it’s time to pack up.”

  “Now?” Leoric replied sadly. There was so much to study and he was positive that Joram wouldn’t allow him to accompany the old prisoner again.

  “It’s getting late, lad, we should hurry. I haven’t kept this place hidden for this long just to lose it when I need it most,” Auric motioned towards the open window. “I’m also anxious to warm these old bones before bed,” he said as he stowed away the remaining parchments.

  Glancing out the high window, Leoric could already see that the night sky was much lighter. “The coals will be out by now, Auric. It will be a cold night for us, or a short one at that,” Leoric answered.

  “Nonsense, the coals will be fine, it’s the growing light that worries me,” he said, and without waiting for a reply, he ducked under the damaged doorframe and disappeared into the waiting darkness. Carefully following behind, Leoric almost ran into his companion once he reached the old stairwell.

  “For the time being this room is our little secret,” Auric said, staring intently at Leoric. “When the time comes, we’ll speak more of it. I just need to know that you can find this place if need be.”

  “Aye, I can,” Leoric nodded.

  “And our secret?”

  “Our secret,” Leoric agreed. “For now.”

  “Fair enough,” the man grunted in reply. “Fair enough.”

  Just as Auric had predicted, the coals of the fire were still burning brightly when they crept back into their modest lodgings. Dawn was not far off, and yet both men paused to bask in the little warmth that remained. Leoric deftly filled a wooden bowl from a metal pot he had left near the heat, settled down, and served up a large helping of soup. Laughing, Auric stretched and joined him. For long minutes, neither man concentrated on anything but refilling their famished stomachs. Auric soon finished and lay back, leaning wearily on one arm.

  “Lad, I was wondering.” Auric said as he poked a fire log with his foot.

  “Yes?”

  “As a soldier, you must be trained in all sorts of weaponry, no?” he asked.

  Leoric finished a last spoonful before answering. “Our officers focused mainly on sword work even though I didn’t take to it much. Our drill sergeant may be one of the few things I don’t miss.”

  “That so, sword work?” Auric raised an eyebrow.

  Leoric nodded. “I myself have always favoured the mace. I’m not really sure why, but a sword just felt wrong in my hands. It felt…” he paused as he struggled with his words.

  “Violent, unmerciful, brutal?” Auric suggested.

  “Yes! That’s exactly what it felt like,” Leoric agreed, giving the man a suspicious glance. Auric lay upon his pallet staring up at the smoke as it rose from the fire, curling out through the numerous holes in the ceiling. Not even Angvald had come so close to defining those feelings. Upon further reflection, he was not sure the big Kaleenian even believed his nonsense.

  Shrugging, Leoric continued, “A blade never felt properly balanced in my hands. Strangely enough, I could never practice properly with the sword either, even though I knew the movements and had some skill. It was as if I could never finish a blow with such a horrible weapon. My instructors settled on my learning the mace, if only to keep me quiet.”

  “Ahh…” Auric replied knowingly.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason really,” the old man chuckled. “You know, I can barely remember what it feels like to hold a weapon in my hand; sword, axe or mace. It’s been so long.” he finished with a whisper.

  “I didn’t know you were a soldier,” Leoric commented. No one knew about the man’s origins, but he still hoped to glean something of the man’s past this night. It was rare that the old man ever spoke this much.

  “That’s because I never said I was,” Auric replied. “If I wanted you to know about my life, I’d have told you already.”

  “So you don’t trust us then?” he replied angrily.

  “Well, some of you I don’t,” Auric said. “Truthfully though, when the time is right, I might tell you something. But only when the time is right,” He added playfully.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Auric’s answering chuckle hinted at something Leoric desperately wanted to understand. Try as he might, the old prisoner remained elusive about his apparent knowledge. Within moments the conversation was over, and only the man’s loud snores remained. Puzzled, Leoric bedded down and fell fast asleep.

  The following evening he was back in camp watching the stars glittering brilliantly over the quiet fields. Leoric had found himself plagued by insomnia many times over the past few years. When the affliction hit hardest, he would lie awake for hours on end without reprieve. While stationed at Darkenedge, he grew accustomed to taking long walks along the high ramparts of the keep. The sentries often made light of his discomfort, and yet they were always buoyed in spirit by his arrival in their sector. Night duty, as Leoric knew far too well, passed slowly without conversation.

  Since his arrival at the prisoner’s camp, he hadn’t slept well at all. His dreams were unsettled and his mind weary from the stress of captivity. On the long journey from the ambush site, he would collapse to the ground almost immediately asleep after each grueling day’s march. That was not the case here in the shadow of the strange city.

  This night, the first since returning from Lok’Dal hie, he found himself sitting peacefully on the back rail of one of the trade wagons. Puffing on his wooden pipe, one of the rare luxuries the goblins allowed, Leoric replayed the events of his recent expedition through his tired mind. The state of the buildings, the rows of empty houses, and even Auric’s cryptic responses concerning his map collection. All of these thoughts only served to push sleep further away.

  “Is there room on that seat?”

  Surprised by the female voice, Leoric spun to greet the visitor. “P—p… pardon me?” he replied, stumbling over his words as he looked into a pair of dark eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Leoric. I couldn’t sleep and saw you here. I thought you might want some company,” Kieri quickly dropped her gaze. “I shouldn’t have come…”

  “No, no.” Leoric stammered. “Please do sit. I was surprised is all, Kieri. It’s not often that I find others awake at this hour,” he finished, hastily motioning at the open space to his left.

  “Do you often come out here in the middle of the night?” the woman asked. She settled down at his side, carefully readjusting her long beige nightgown.

  Shifting uncomfortably at the question, Leoric managed a wry grin. “I try to keep my clandestine meetings private, you know?”

  Kieri laughed softly at the comment and playfully slapped his arm. He was acutely aware of how close they were sitting to each other. Even now, he could feel a slight stirring in his body and the quickening of his heart rate, leaving his cheeks flushed with colour. Avoiding Kieri’s gaze while using the opportunity to lazily blow smoke from his mouth, Leoric tried valiantly to master his exhilaration.

  “It’s this place, isn’t it?” Kieri asked after a momentary silence. “The city may be wondrous, even beautiful to look at, but it could never be home.”

  “I have to admit, the nights out here so far north can be stunning,” Leoric replied with a nod. “But you’re right, my home is Darkenedge.”

  “My family farm wasn’t much, but I can still smell the lilies that my mother would place in the windows every spring. My father used to cook a fantastic rabbit stew; a recipe he swore had been handed down through the generations. A family treasure, as it were,” Kieri replied. Her wistful expression was filled with sorrow.

  “There isn’t much in Darkenedge that anyone would grow fond of.” Leoric pondered.

  “Have you always lived there, Leoric, and been a soldier?”

&nb
sp; “At Darkenedge? Oh no, I farmed out near Avery long before coming out to the Iron Shield,” he replied.

  “Angvald did mention something of that. You were married?”

  “I had wife and child.”

  For the second time, Leoric found himself shifting uncomfortably. He rarely spoke about his past, and yet something in the way Kieri looked into his eyes gave him a measure of courage. “Alanna was twenty-eight when she died.”

  “And your daughter?” Kieri said quietly.

  “I believe Maya is well, but I’d prefer not to speak of her,” he answered, his eyes locked on the muddy ground at his feet.

  The sudden soft touch of Kieri’s hand along the contour of his cheek caused him to jerk away. It had been a long time since a woman had touched him so intimately. And yet, although pledged to another, Kieri did exactly that. Seeing his obvious discomfort, she looked away ashamedly.

  “I’m sorry…” she said quietly.

  “It’s not your fault,” Leoric replied apologetically. “It may sound strange to you, but no one has touched me like that since Alanna.”

  His senses were heightened and he could hear the soft rustle of the long grasses as the night wind blew briskly through the strands. He could feel the thin fabric that covered Kieri’s leg as she sat so close. Without warning, she reached out and clasped his hand.

  “What was she like? Your wife.”

  Amazed by the unabashed question, Leoric was equally surprised when he found he could answer. Speaking of Alanna had never been easy.

  “She was my first love,” he replied. “We met in the market and I asked right then if she would dance with me at the Winter Festival that evening. You know, I think she accepted because she was so surprised,” he added with a sad smile. “But I did something right, and we rarely went a day without seeing one another. She was quiet and gentle, well-spoken, and so intelligent. How she ever fell for a country lad like me, I’ll never know. She would laugh at the simplest things, and everyone was affected by her good nature. I loved her very much.”