Winged Warrior fl-7

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I think a spy from the Island of Darkness is coming here tonight,” explained Fisher. “I have no idea why. I am hoping that you might be able to think of something. I certainly can’t ask the Jiadin.”

  “I can’t imagine a spy accomplishing anything in Meliban,” frowned Tutman. “The Jiadin know less than I do about what is going on, and I don’t know anything. It would be a waste of a trip for anyone to come here.”

  “How do you keep in touch with the Astor?” asked Fisher.

  “We don’t,” shrugged Tutman. “Once in a while Wyant or one of the tribal leaders comes to town. They give a talk and disappear again. I hope something happens soon. The Jiadin are starting to climb the walls here. They can’t stand being cooped up in the city. They get rowdier with every passing day.”

  “Is that what happened to your leg?” asked Fisher.

  “Some of the men thought they would have some fun with me,” nodded Tutman. “A big one picked me up and was swinging me over his head. They were wagering which table I might land on when he let go. I didn’t actually land on any table,” frowned Tutman, “but I did bust my leg. The girls broke up the party and carried me into the kitchen.”

  “I will contact Rejji and tell him he has a problem brewing here,” offered Fisher, “but I still can’t figure out what Vand wants here. And time is running out.”

  “All that I can think of,” mused Tutman, “is the location of Angragar. The Jiadin ask that question every time someone shows up here. It really bothers them that the secret is being withheld from them.”

  “Do you know when someone is coming next?” asked Fisher.

  “It should be tonight or tomorrow,” answered Tutman. “Someone usually comes on the full moon. It’s none too soon for my tastes. The visits usually tame the Jiadin for a while. That is why today is so bad. It has been a long time since the last visit.”

  “Where does the speech take place?” asked Fisher.

  “Just up the street,” answered Tutman. “Directly across the street is the administration building. Wyant, or whoever, holds some meetings in there with some of the senior Jiadin. Then they all go to the large park up the street. They give a speech addressing all of the concerns and then they come here for a night’s sleep. The next day they are gone again.”

  “Does Wyant stay in the same room each time?” asked Fisher.

  “Yes,” nodded Tutman. “He gets the large corner room every time.”

  “Can you give me a room next to his?” asked Fisher.

  “I can,” frowned Tutman. “Do you think they will try to harm him?”

  “I don’t know what to expect,” admitted Fisher. “It is just too much of a coincidence that Clarvoy is coming to Meliban at the same time Wyant is. He either wants to eliminate Wyant or force him to tell the secret of Angragar. Killing Wyant would hardly seem worth the trip. Who does Wyant meet with across the street?”

  “There are about a dozen of them,” replied Tutman, “but the ringleader is a big guy by the name of Harmagan. Be cautious around that one. The man is a killer.”

  “Is there a back way into the administration building?” asked Fisher. “I want to hear what Wyant says to the Jiadin.”

  “There is a back door,” replied Tutman, “but it will be locked. Harmagan and a few others live in the administration building. You can’t get in without them knowing about it.”

  “I am not even sure if Wyant is what they are after,” shrugged Fisher. “I think I will walk around the city and see if I notice anything strange.”

  “Take your room key,” offered the innkeeper as he pulled a key out of his desk drawer and handed it to Fisher. “There will be no charge the first night. I appreciate the healing you did.”

  “Thank you,” smiled Fisher. “Keep off that leg, and it will heal just fine now.”

  Chapter 26

  Scarab

  Fisher left the Kheri Inn and walked to the park where the speech would be given. A knife fight had drawn a large crowd, and dozens of Jiadin were cheering for their favorite fighter. The noise was deafening. Fisher turned and left the park and headed down a narrow alleyway that passed behind the administration building. The back door to the building may have been unlocked, but it hardly mattered. Two mean looking Jiadin stood outside the back door with swords drawn. They glared at Fisher as if daring him to approach. The spy walked quickly by the doorway and did not look back.

  At the mouth of the alleyway, another crowd of Jiadin were gathered. Two groups of warriors appeared to be squaring off against each other. Swords were drawn and insults were being thrown with abandon. As Fisher tried to exit the alley and move past the crowd, one of the Jiadin pivoted, his sword pointing towards Fisher’s chest. Fisher immediately backpedaled into the alley to avoid being sucked into the brewing fight.

  As Fisher turned around and headed back along the alley towards the park, he saw the two guards in the distance. He stopped walking and leaned against the wall in the darkness. He was finding nothing out and walking around Meliban was dangerous, and not because he was a spy. It was just a dangerous city to walk around at night. He sighed with frustration and moved into a small alcove between the buildings, dropping to ground to sit with his back against the building. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the distant shouting so that he could concentrate and think of some reason for Clarvoy to travel to Meliban.

  A noise forced Fisher to open his eyes, but it was not the loud noise of boisterous shouting. It was the soft click of a single person’s footsteps. Fisher gazed into the dimly lit alley, the only light coming from the full moon high overhead. He heard the footsteps coming closer. Fisher was not sure what intrigued him about the sound of footsteps in the alley, but he held his breath as they came closer. A figure walked past the small alcove, and Fisher nearly gasped. The man was out of sight within a second, but Fisher was sure that he had recognized the Jiadin warrior. What bothered Fisher about recognizing the man is that he was positive that Brakas was already dead.

  Fisher rose slowly from the ground in the alcove and crept to the corner of the alleyway. He peered around the corner at the Jiadin warrior walking along the alley towards the park. Brakas stopped near the two guards stationed behind the administration building. The three men exchanged words, but it was too far for Fisher to hear what was said. Fisher was about to ease out of the alcove and follow Brakas when the two guards ushered the Jiadin warrior into the administration building. Fisher frowned as he heard the door slam and a bolt thrown to lock it.

  While he might not find out why Clarvoy was coming to Meliban, Fisher knew that following Brakas could lead to important information. He immediately dismissed his thoughts of Clarvoy and looked upward to find a way onto the roof of the administration building. His eyes followed the roofline until they came back to the alcove. Seeing that the buildings were connected, Fisher entered the alcove again and peered upward. He had not brought any rope with him, but the alcove was narrow. His eyes peered into the darkness for a handhold to begin his climb. Wedging one foot on each wall, Fisher reached up and grabbed an indentation in the wood. His fingertips ached as he moved his feet higher and looked for the next imperfection in the wooden walls.

  It took Fisher much longer than he cared to spend to climb to the roof, but he had no other choice. His fingertips were raw and bleeding from wood slivers that had pricked his skin. Fisher wiped the blood on his clothes and ignored the pain. He walked cautiously along the roof of the administration building, placing each step with care. His eyes scanned the roof for any type of hatch that might allow access into the building, but he could not find one.

  Fisher sighed noiselessly as he realized that he was missing a valuable conversation. He moved to the edge of the roof and stared down. There were several windows on the second level of the administration building. As far as Fisher could see, they were the only way that he could gain entrance to the building. He chose a window at random and leaned over the edge of the roof above it. He could barely see int
o the dark room, but he sensed nothing moving in it. Fisher straightened up and removed his pack. He pulled a knife and cut the straps from the pack and tied them together.

  There was a small wooden beam that ran along the edge of the roof. Fisher laid one end of the strap over the beam and jabbed his knife through it. With all of his might, he pushed the knife as deep as he could into the beam. He tied a not in the strap where the blade had slit it so that it would not continue ripping. When he was done, Fisher lowered his body over the side of the roof, just above the chosen window. Hanging from the wooden beam, Fisher reached out and carefully griped the strap, hoping that it could hold his weight.

  When Fisher let go of the roof with his second hand, he heard the fabric of the strap start to rip. For a few terrorizing seconds, Fisher hung immobile. The strap held and Fisher exhaled slowly. Very slowly, Fisher lowered himself on the hanging strap. When he was at the right altitude to enter the window, he stretched out one foot to snare the window ledge. Pulling with his foot, Fisher managed to get his second foot in the window before the strap snapped. His hands immediately let go of the strap and flew out to grasp the window frame. He caught the frame with one hand and pulled hard. His body tumbled through the window.

  Fisher half expected to slam into the floor, notifying the whole building of his entrance. As luck would have it, the Jiadin who occupied the room had moved his bed under the window. Fisher landed on the bed with minimal noise. He immediately sprang from the bed and placed his back to the wall beside the door, a knife automatically sliding into his hand.

  When no one came in response to the noise, Fisher put his ear to the door. He could hear faint voices, but nothing else. He decided to risk opening the door. The spy eased the door open and peered out. The corridor was dark, as the evening torches had not been lit yet. He slipped out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.

  Fisher tiptoed along the corridor until he reached the stairs leading down. The voices became louder, and light from the first floor spread upward to paint the stairs a ghostly yellow. Fisher dropped to the floor and crawled forward so he could peer down the steps. He stared in fascination as Brakas stood talking to half a dozen Jiadin. One particularly large man was standing toe to toe with Brakas. They appeared to be arguing.

  “Why don’t you try listening for a change, Harmagan,” shouted Brakas. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life in this hole of a city?”

  “Don’t push me, Brakas,” the large man retorted. “Meliban might not be much, but right now it is my city, not yours. If you don’t like the way things are going around here, just keep on moving. You already have enough Jiadin dead on your watch. That fiasco in Khadora cost us many fine warriors.”

  “How many times do I have to go through this,” scowled Brakas. “What happened in Khadora was not my fault. The person who portrayed me was a fake. I don’t know how he did it, but I wasn’t even there.”

  “Look,” interrupted another Jiadin warrior, “this arguing doesn’t do anything for any of us. Khadora is ancient history. Why don’t you tell us why you have come here, Brakas? Then we can be about the business of doing nothing for a while.”

  “Alright,” Brakas sighed. “I actually came to help you guys. There is no reason that Jiadin warriors should be forced to live in some wooden city when the riches of Angragar are available.”

  “And you know where Angragar is?” taunted Harmagan.

  “If I knew,” Brakas shook his head, “would I be standing here now?”

  “Then what is the point of flapping your gums?” spat Harmagan. “We don’t know where it is either.”

  “But Wyant does,” smiled Brakas. “And he is coming here tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Wyant wouldn’t give us the correct phase of the moon,” Harmagan shook his head. “We have asked him a thousand times already. He just won’t say.”

  “Perhaps you haven’t asked him properly,” smirked Brakas. “You said this was your city. How can you let Wyant come and go as he pleases without answering a simple question?”

  “Are you insane?” asked Harmagan. “You are proposing that we try to force Wyant to reveal where Angragar is? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  “Wyant is going to kill all of you?” balked Brakas. “You men are no longer Jiadin warriors. You are all clova. You sit around this city all day being fattened up for the kill. You are all a herd of clova.”

  Harmagan’s face turned red with rage, his features contorting as his hand went for his sword. Brakas swiftly stepped close to the large Jiadin and grabbed him by the shoulder. Harmagan’s face turned from rage to fear as his body began to spasm. His fingers fell away from the hilt of his sword as his arms began to twitch uncontrollably. Suddenly, Harmagan fell to the floor and curled into a ball, his lips quivering as he sobbed.

  “Don’t ever think about pulling a sword on me again,” snarled Brakas. “I will not stand for it.”

  The other Jiadin warriors backed away from Brakas, but their hands were conspicuously held away from their swords.

  Brakas sighed and shook his head as he looked at the other Jiadin warriors.

  “It looks like I will have to do this on my own,” Brakas declared. “Don’t mention to Wyant that I am in town when he arrives. I will find out the location of Angragar before he leaves Meliban. The rest of you should start preparing the men for a long ride. Go on! Get out and start getting your men sober.”

  The Jiadin warriors fled the administration building through the front door. Brakas stood for a moment staring at Harmagan who was still curled up on the floor. Brakas shook his head and spat on the Jiadin leader before exiting the building. Fisher stared at Brakas as the man left the building. There were several things about Brakas that bothered Fisher. The story he told about being impersonated didn’t make sense. Aakuta had declared that he had killed Brakas, and Fisher believed the dark mage.

  What bothered Fisher even more was the weird angle of Brakas’s left hand when he stood normally. Most people’s palms face their legs when their arms hang at their sides. Brakas’s left palm faced forward. By a strange coincidence, the only other person that Fisher knew with such an abnormality was the spy that he had seen just recently on the Island of Darkness. It was the only thing extraordinary that Fisher had noticed about Clarvoy.

  Now that Fisher knew what Clarvoy was up to, he had to find a way out of the administration building, and a way to foil the spy’s plan. Fisher was not prepared to jump from the second story window into the alley. That meant that his only exit was down the stairs, and that would force him to walk right in front of Harmagan. Fisher thought about his situation for a moment and then rose from the floor. He walked normally down the stairs and in front of Harmagan.

  The Jiadin leader’s eyes opened in alarm when Fisher walked by, but he said nothing, the shock to his body still gripping him. Fisher searched the lower floor and found the kitchen. He rummaged through the supplies and found a loaf of crusty bread and a barrel of ale. He broke off a large chuck of bread and filled a mug with ale. He carried the food into the main room and knelt beside Harmagan.

  “Bite the bread,” instructed Fisher as he pried the Jiadin’s mouth open and shoved a corner of the bread into his mouth. “Try not to think about the pain. It will go away.”

  Harmagan’s eyes looked confused, but he bit down on the bread. Fisher grabbed the Jiadin’s legs and pulled them to straighten the man’s body.

  “Chew it slowly,” advised Fisher. “Just concentrate on chewing the bread. Think of nothing else.”

  The Jiadin leader closed his eyes, but Fisher could see the man starting to chew. After a few moments, Fisher noticed the man’s muscles cease quivering. Harmagan opened his eyes and stared at Fisher.

  “I have a mug of ale here,” declared Fisher. “It will help you if you can stand to drink it yet. Do you want it?”

  Harmagan nodded and bit off a chunk of bread. Fisher helped the Jiadin into a sitting position and handed him the mug of
ale. The Jiadin continued to stare at the spy.

  “Who are you?” the Jiadin finally asked. “I have never seen you before.”

  “No one who seeks to harm you,” Fisher answered mysteriously. “I am just trying to save your life.”

  “I would have died?” questioned the Jiadin leader.

  “You might have,” nodded Fisher. “Your body started to shut down from the shock. In a few moments you would have lost consciousness. Whether you ever woke up from it or not…”

  “I will kill Brakas for this,” snarled the Jiadin.

  “I would not advise it,” Fisher shook his head. “At least not alone.”

  “Do not insult me,” snapped Harmagan. “He just caught me off guard before. If you say otherwise to anyone, I will kill you, too.”

  “You are in no condition to kill anyone right now,” sighed Fisher. “And do not worry about me talking to anyone. Besides, my words were not meant to taunt you. The man that you call Brakas, is not who he claims to be. Brakas is dead.”

  Harmagan’s eyes clouded with confusion. He sipped the ale and then nodded.

  “I had heard that he died,” Harmagan said, “but Brakas claims that that was an imposter.”

  “This Brakas is the imposter,” stated Fisher. “Brakas never knew any magic. How do you explain his attack on you? If that was not magic, what was it?”

  “Your words make sense,” nodded Harmagan, “but I don’t know you. You could be a spy for all I know.”

  “What or who I am is of little importance to you at the moment,” replied Fisher. “Be thankful that I was here to save your life.”

  “Well, be useful,” scowled Harmagan. “Go out and rally my men. I want Brakas dead and his head brought before me.”

  “They won’t be able to find him,” replied Fisher, as he finally understood how Clarvoy managed to move at ease on the mainland. He did not use disguises per se. He used illusions to portray others. “The man is a mage, Harmagan. He will change his looks now. He could be anyone. He could be among the very men you order to find Brakas. Do you really want him to attack you again?”