by Ethan Spears
“Well gee, ever think maybe I’m not in a fantastic mood either? I had to ride twelve days through piss-poor weather just so I can be rained on in a different way. I had a narrow window to come up with some plan to keep you from dying, and the best I could think up was to draw all your anger to myself, which is working fabulously now that it’s time for civil discourse. I’ve also learned some things that call much of what I thought I knew about Ezma into question, and I’ve had to reminisce about killing her with someone who thinks I did it with joy in my heart instead of the sickness, sadness, and terror that was actually there. To top it off, causing all these deaths might have proved entirely meaningless because, again, all of Ezma’s plans are falling apart. But hey, at least you two are on better terms.”
“Maybe you’d best explain that part,” said Mergau with a forced calm. “If she can follow the branches of time, how did things go wrong?”
“And why is she the reasonable one all of a sudden?” asked Tabir.
“Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know and I wish I did,” he huffed. “She had to delegate some of the preparations to various members of the Order to ensure they would be completed on time, so maybe someone screwed something up.” He sighed. “But then she should have known they were gonna screw it up. Gods be damned if I’m not as confused as you are.”
“How are you even sure that things have gone awry? I thought Ezma was the only one who knew the full plan.”
“For starters, I already told you about the mirror, but she also left us a brief timeline of where you’re supposed to be at any given time. According to that timeline, you two should be in the kingdom of Verka, not Wickwick.”
“Verka?” Aoden chimed in, a mocking smile forming on his lips. “You’re a bit off. Not sure how you people with your ineffable foresight thought we were supposed to end up there when traveling with the elven military. The elves would never venture through to the far side of the old human territories and, even if they did, the lizardfolk aren’t exactly the most welcoming people, especially after the sieges and slavery inflicted upon them by the humans.”
“I’m just repeating what the Order had come to understand from Ezma.”
“And never mind that they’ve held the Isthmus of Maltu since before living memory,” Aoden continued, “or that the Verkan peninsula is practically unapproachable by sea due to the sheer rock walls on all sides. You know they call it the Sky Island,” he said derisively, turning to Mergau. “I hear at some points the cliffs stand a stretch-and-a-half straight up over the sea.”
“No one is asking you to assault their kingdom by sea,” Tabir said chilly. “Ezma was under the impression you could get in with no force or stealth needed, though I never heard the details.”
“Wow, thanks, that was super helpful.”
“Will you please, please shut up,” said Mergau. “This is bad enough without you getting snippy over everything he says.” She looked to Tabir. “You’re saying you want us to go to the kingdom of Verka, right?”
Tabir nodded. “I suppose that’s our best course of action, yes.”
“What do you mean ‘our’ course?” said Aoden. “Why are you even listening to him, Mergau?”
“I don’t see what else we can do,” said Mergau. “I can’t go back to the orcs, you can’t go back to the elves; our choices aren’t plentiful.”
“We can go visit Reggy.”
“For the rest of our lives? And do you have no other friends to speak of?
“They’re all dead, so thanks for bringing that up.”
“This conversation is pointless. Tabir, you must have some idea about how to get into this Verka place, right?”
Tabir shrugged. “If Aoden were still a part of the military, you might have been able to finagle some official documents from your government, though I doubt you’d be able to bluff your way in without a sealed missive from the elf king himself. Of course, having such an easily defensible land means the lizardfolk are more concerned with scholarly pursuits than military. If you can find some believable reason along that course, you might be able to gain entrance.”
“I don’t suppose you speak the lizardfolk’s language?” Mergau asked, turning to the trenchant elf.
“Elvish, Orcish, Krik, and nine other languages of men. I don’t even know what their language is called, much less speak it.”
“Then bluffing our way in is probably off the table unless we can get someone to help who knows the language.”
“What makes you so eager to follow along with these mad seers?” said Aoden.
“I’m not eager, you child!” Mergau shouted, her patience at its limit. “but we have to admit that we don’t know what we’re doing anymore. I’m being offered some direction and I mean to take it.”
“Well said,” said Tabir.
“And who the hell asked for your opinion?” Margau snapped.
“Fine, but I take back my comment about you being reasonable.”
“Can your order offer us any aid?” she said in lieu of lashing out again.
Tabir shook his head. “We aren’t supposed to be watching you two at all. Technically, me being here is a breach of the procedures we agreed to follow, but the head of our order had to make a judgment call after certain events, namely your horrid deaths, came to his attention. Ezma made it clear that we aren’t supposed to interfere.”
“Yet here you are.”
“As I said, all our plans are falling apart. Our hope is that, if we can get you two back on track, everything will fall into place once more. After Verka, you should know where to go.”
“Then you should do something to get us into Verka.”
Tabir made a futile gesture. “My hands are tied.”
“So, you need us to get into Verka, but you won’t help us get into Verka,” Aoden summarized from his seat. “Fat lot of help you are.”
“That’s the way it is,” said Tabir, sitting back. He wasn’t rising to the barbs anymore, much to Aoden’s annoyance.
“You must know someone,” Mergau said to Aoden. “You’ve been doing diplomatic work and negotiations for years. Surely you’ve made some contacts we can use.”
“Elves, mostly,” he said, “and they would be unlikely to help me even in the best of times, but they probably think I’m dead now. Or worse, a murderer: the death of ten warriors in close-quarters combat in elf-held territories will cause a stir, partly for the horror of it and partly for the novelty. Ten dead with swords in hand instead of bows and the half-elf commander’s body—because the rumors would almost certainly mention I was a half-elf—was never found? I’d be more surprised if they didn’t think I was behind it.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that a few weeks sitting in a tent in the middle of a military camp gave you greater insight into elven society than I have. Please, tell me what would happen instead?”
Mergau gave him her best scowl. “They ruined my life as well. I’m on your side, for the moment. If you have a problem with that, we can go back to how it was a week ago.”
Aoden didn’t respond, but Mergau could tell the comment stung him.
“Is there anyone you can turn to besides the elves?” offered Tabir.
“Hardly anyone,” Aoden said, his tone less combative. “The many lopsided trades and peace agreements have likely led to bad blood. It’s unlikely my sympathies spared me from some measure of that mistrust, and forget about all the negotiations that fell apart and nothing happened for either side. Most of the people the elves negotiate with get the short end of the bargain. That’s what happens when you negotiate with someone who has all the power: they just bend you over and—”
A curious look crossed Aoden’s face. He sat up, looking like he had just realized something. He held up a hand for silence when Mergau made to speak. After a lengthy pause, he mumbled, “I just need to ask any halfling.” He looked at the other two briefly, then stood up and walked to the
door.
“What the hell does that mean? And where are you going?” Tabir asked.
Aoden didn’t answer, passing swiftly through the front door and leaving it open behind him. Tabir turned back to Mergau. “Do you know what that was about?”
“No idea. Perhaps we should…?” she motioned towards the door.
Tabir nodded, and they stood to follow Aoden. When they got outside, they found him already several houses away, knocking on the Landmaster’s door. He must have broken into a run as soon as he was outside.
“He suddenly seems eager,” Tabir opined. “Do you think he’s done being a heel and ready to cooperate?”
“No to both,” Mergau said. “Why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you know?”
“What, you think I look forward and watch every minute of my life before it happens? Life is grating enough without having to go through it twice. No, I only watch when I think there’s imminent danger or a delicate situation ahead, but I can’t speak for other seers. I’m mainly using my powers now to see if one of you tries to murder me again.”
“And how’s it looking?”
He gave her a sly grin. “Shouldn’t you know?”
Mergau couldn’t help matching his grin. She had to admit, now that she wasn’t actively furious with him, the man had his charms. She could easily see how he could be Ezma’s colleague.
Though thinking of Ezma wiped the grin right off her face again. Maybe she couldn’t blame Tabir directly for her problems, but he was still complicit, and Ezma wasn’t exempt by any measure. Forgiving either of them would be a slow process, if she ever did.
They had just caught up to Aoden when the Landmaster opened the door. “Oh, it’s you.” He peered at Aoden, then at the two behind him. “You brought your parents?”
“What?” Aoden turned, realizing that he, a half-elf, was indeed standing in front of a human and elf. “No, they’re friends. Or one is, anyway. I was with her when I spoke to you two days ago, remember?”
“Hard to keep track,” he said. “What do you want?”
Aoden wanted to ask how he could forget when he surely got so few elf guests, but decided it wasn’t worth the breath. “I’m wondering if you could give us directions to a friend of mine.”
“I might,” said the halfling. “Where does he live?”
Aoden furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure where he lives. Maybe you know him, though.”
“Not all halflings know each other, Elf. There are quite a few of us, you see.”
“He told me he’s well known. His name is Cofus Benderbury.”
The halfling gave him a queer look. “And how would an elf know old Benderbury?”
Aoden chuckled. “He told me I could ask any halfling. I see he wasn’t exaggerating. And, as you’ve already noticed, I’m not an elf, I’m a half-elf, see?” He tweaked his fleshy lobes. “I helped him out once or twice and he said he’d return the favor if I needed it.”
“Collecting a debt, eh?” The halfling rubbed his chubby throat. “I’m not sure I believe you, but I suppose there’s no harm in directing you to the proper city. If you’re lying, you’ll never see him anyway, and it’s not like it ain’t common knowledge. You can find him in Chestnut Peak, near Mt. Dulagi.”
“Chestnut Peak? I don’t suppose you know the old human name for the city?”
The halfling shrugged. “It’s somewhere to the northwest. That’s the best I can do for you. Might I suggest next time you’re owed a favor that you at least find out where they live? Now if you’ll excuse me, my daughter’s making a fuss.” He gave them a curt nod and closed the door.
“Who the hell is Cofus Benderbury?” Tabir asked as they headed back to the house.
“A halfling diplomat, and an influential one at that. He might be just what we need to get into Verka.”
“Oh,” said Mergau, “now ‘we’ need to get into Verka?”
“Doesn’t it seem a bit too convenient to you,” he said, “that we need to get into Verka and I know someone who might be able to help? I mean, we know the reason why, now.”
Mergau nodded. “Ezma.”
“Exactly. If Cofus was sincere with his promise to offer aid, then his political pull is just what we’ll need. Everything has been set up perfectly to succeed.” He paused at the door, his hand on the handle. He turned to Tabir. “Though it still doesn’t explain why my men had to die.”
Tabir ran a hand over his stubble. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“Would you let something like that go?”
“No, I reckon not.” Tabir sighed. “Look, I have to come clean with you: I wasn’t avoiding the topic because I was keeping information or was trying to hide my involvement. I kept silent because, well…” He trailed off, looking like a man trying to force down a vile supper in front of his waiting host. Aoden wanted to tell him to ‘spit it out already,’ but that looked to be the opposite of what he should do.
“Do you need a moment?” Aoden finally said, unable to say nothing.
“I didn’t…” Tabir hesitated but pressed on. “I didn’t know what you were talking about.”
Aoden frowned. “You can’t even tell one massacre from another in your plotting? Just how bloody is this going to get?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Tabir said sharply. “I’m not so callous that I don’t care when others die. I didn’t know because this isn’t in Ezma’s plan.” Aoden only looked perplexed. “Remember how I said you should be in Verka right now? Well, your men most likely wouldn’t have died if you were. They shouldn’t have been part of the plan at all as far as I know. I don’t know if that means that someone made a mistake, whether the Order or Ezma or me or you—”
“Don’t even suggest I got my men killed,” warned Aoden.
“Easy there, Aoden. I’m only saying that if they died, it was through no plotting of ours. And if these deaths weren’t supposed to occur, then I have to ask the same question you just did: how bloody is this going to get?”
They fell to silence. “Any idea where the city might be?” Mergau asked, moving to a less uncomfortable subject.
Tabir shrugged. “I’ve heard the name before, but I’ve never been there myself. You’ll just have to ask at each city you pass.”
“Are you coming with us?”
“Again, my hands are tied on this. I need to head back to the Order and see if anything else is needed of me. You two need to head to Verka and I can only hope that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Personally, I’d prefer to guide you there myself, but orders are orders. I won’t be the one to doom us all because I was feeling a tad uncomfortable.”
“If you say so,” Mergau said.
“I do.” Tabir held out his hand. “It was good meeting you two, despite a bit of friction. I wish you both the best of luck.” Neither of them took his hand. “Okay, Mergau I understand, but I just told you that we had nothing to do with your men dying.”
Aoden glared at him. “You and your order have still ruined our lives, so to hell with your handshake.”
Tabir put his hand down, miffed. “You can’t hold a grudge forever. You’d best just learn to forgive and forget.”
“If I do, it won’t be today.”
Tabir shrugged, deciding he no longer cared. He tipped his hat to the two of them. “Aoden, Mergau,” he said, and turned away, walking down the road to the west.
***
“Three nights, so nine trits,” said Aoden, dropping the coins into the halfling Landmaster’s outstretched hand. The four hundred yews that Mergau had on her were exchanged for fifty-eight golden trits, the human currency the halflings had adopted. While a respectable amount, giving up nine for a few days lodging was going to hurt.
“Off to find ol’ Cofus, are you?” The halfling said.
“Hopefully it won’t take too long. We just have to keep moving northwest.”
The halfling stared at the coins, jangling them uncertainly. As the two elves walked away, he called out to them
.
“Hold a moment.” They stopped and turned towards him. “Come back here.” He handed seven of the coins back to Aoden.
Aoden was confused. “What is this for?”
“I may have overcharged you a bit. Had I known you were a friend of Cofus, I would not have done so. Please accept my apologies.”
Aoden and Mergau exchanged glances. “My thanks, young Landmaster,” Aoden said properly, offering a bow.
The Landmaster offered a quick bow back. “Now go on, off with you. And have a safe trip.” And he closed his door.
They took the western road out, keeping to the path. “Are you sure about coming?” Mergau asked.
Aoden nodded. “You were right all along. We’ve nothing else to do or anywhere to go. Strange though it seems, having a goal, even a vague one like ‘go to Verka and see what happens,’ makes the pain of loss more bearable.”
“I understand,” Mergau said. “I’m glad, though. I also didn’t want to travel alone.”
“Glad, huh? Won’t I just be a bad reminder to you?”
“Many things are,” she said.
“This isn’t a simple situation, is it?”
She shook her head. “But for now, we have a goal we can focus on instead.”
“That we do,” he said.
They trod on in silence.
Chapter 24
Halfling and Scale
All Mergau could do was gawk.
“That’s a small castle?” she asked, disbelieving. It was a monstrosity of stone and iron sprawling in every direction. A huge wall circled a dozen minor structures, each big enough to comfortably house a family, and the grounds were large enough to encompass a modest orcish tribe. Atop the main gatehouse were a pair of halflings with crossbows, visibly intrigued by the approaching elves.
“Well, medium-small, I guess?” said Aoden, “There are far larger than this. These walls can only hold five hundred archers, twice that if they share crenels, which are those gaps in the wall up there. The keep could probably hold another hundred on the roof and upper windows.”
