Rae fidgeted beside him and her hands twisted in her lap.
“No need to worry, you two,” Simian said. “Relax.”
Rae cleared her throat. “Sorry, sir—”
“Sim, call me Sim.”
“Sorry, Sim. We just… uh… don’t know what to expect.”
Ash nodded. It summed up most of their problem and the rest couldn’t be spoken of out loud. What if Sim learned what they were and reported them to the Faceless Monks? Ash and Rae would be killed. Ash lowered his head, hoping Sim wouldn’t see the similarities between them.
“Of course,” Sim said. “It’s scary leaving home for the first time, but once you see what’s out there… you’ll never look back. The world is a big place. Old Gillie and I have only seen part of it. Maybe if I told you about Falconwall it would help?”
Rae nodded. Ash said nothing, at least if Sim was talking, the awkward silence would be pushed away for a time.
“Falconwall is bigger than any city I’ve ever seen. It’s the capital of Aldeberg, the biggest and richest of the southern kingdoms. More than eighty thousand people live there.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “That’s impossible. You’re exaggerating.” He bit his lip and cursed his big mouth.
Rae glared at him.
Sim laughed. “I used to think that too. I came from a village not very different to this one and I thought all the traders were making things up. But then I saw it. The walls tower like cliffs and everywhere you look there are people.”
Ash pursed his lips. There was no way that many people could live in one city. He doubted that many people lived in the entire world.
Sim’s grin widened. “I can see you still don’t believe me, but just you wait. We’ll be getting to Port Saval in a few days and that has forty thousand people. Maybe then you’ll believe me.”
Ash didn’t think so, but he forced his face to stay impassive.
“Are the southern kingdoms really as bad as they say?” Rae said.
Sim chuckled. “It might interest you to know that southerners say the same things about the northern kingdoms. The southern kingdoms are different, I won’t lie to you about that, they’re richer, and warmer, and they have different customs.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll see soon enough, but they like colors much more than northerners, and they don’t mind magic.”
Ash and Rae shared a glance, Sim had to be making fun of them; the only magic they knew of came from the Faceless Monks.
“Anyway, Falconwall is divided into districts and each district…”
Sim continued to describe Falconwall for the next two hours, and despite himself, Ash was drawn in. He could almost picture the sweeping walls and the palace at the center. A tiny flame of excitement flickered to life in his chest and chased away some of his fears. An adventure. He and Rae were going on a real adventure, just like they’d always dreamed of.
By evening, they came to the main road, a wide dirt expanse from which the tiny track to Wichden snaked away. They were farther from home than either Ash or Rae had ever been. Ash had expected the world away from Wichden to be different, but so far it looked exactly the same; the same swamp water stagnated to either side of the main road and weaved between drooping trees.
Sim tugged on the reins and Gillie came to a stop at the side of the road. “We’d best set up camp before it gets too dark.”
Ash and Rae leapt down from the wagon.
“I can get some firewood,” Rae said.
“And I can brush down Gillie.”
Sim winked at them. “I knew you two would come in handy. I guess I’ll start dinner.”
Rae went off into the line of trees to gather twigs while Sim opened the side of the wagon. He pulled out a dented metal pot and a tightly wrapped package. He then helped Ash unhook the wagon from Gillie’s back.
Ash took a brush from Sim and went to work stroking down Gillie’s smooth back. She gave a soft nicker and nuzzled his hand as he worked. He smiled; he’d always loved animals, and Gillie was an especially friendly creature. He gave her a bag of oats and tied her to a tree.
By the time Ash finished, Rae had a steady fire going and Sim was cutting vegetables into thin slices.
Ash hunkered down close to the dancing flames so that the heat washed over his face and warmed his chilled fingers. He tugged his tattered cloak about his shoulder and stared into the glowing heart of the fire.
“Ow! Oh curse Kaim!” Sim said, gripping his finger.
Blood welled to the surface from a deep cut he’d made with his knife. It dribbled down the back of his other hand and dotted the grass.
“Sim,” Rae said, going to his side.
“Oh bloody bastard. That’s going to bleed for hours.”
“Hold still,” Rae said. “I found these while I was out getting wood.”
She drew a bundle of herbs from her pocket. Ash recognized them from the book of healing; yellowbell to prevent infection, mayflower to promote healing, wild jape for nausea.
Ash grabbed their sack of belongings and snatched out the needle and thread. He held the needle as close to the fire as he could before threading it through.
Rae took the needle and looked into Sim’s eyes. “This will hurt.” She didn’t wait for a response; holding the flaps together, she did three quick stitches and tugged his skin closed. The bleeding slowed to a gradual ooze.
Sim’s pinched face eased and he looked between his stitched finger and Rae’s face. “You’ve done that before.”
Rae crushed the yellowbell leaves in her hand and rubbed them over Sim’s finger. “His leg,” she said, nodding to Ash.
Sim glanced at Ash, his eyes trailing down to his calf. “I’d wondered about that… but your mother didn’t seem like a healer…”
Ash pulled the healing book from their bag and held it up to the firelight. “Actually, she used to be.” Ash’s mouth twisted with grim humor. “Luckily, she was willing to throw this book at Rae when I… injured… myself, two days ago.”
Sim raised an eyebrow. “Two days. That doesn’t explain the yellowbell.”
Ash shrugged and looked away as he tucked the book back into their sack. “We read it.”
Sim studied Ash’s face, then Rae’s, but he didn’t push the matter further. “Well, I thank you; you’ve done a fine job.” He held his finger up to the firelight.
Rae smiled and tucked the remaining herbs back into her coat.
“At least I know if we run into trouble on the road, I’ve got two capable healers with me.”
A warm glow filled Ash’s chest.
7
By lunch on the second day, Ash and Rae had settled into Sim’s company. They spent most of their time either watching the countryside go past, from swamp to pastureland—the likes of which Ash and Rae had only ever heard stories about—or testing each other from the book of healing.
“If you two like books, you’ll love Falconwall,” Sim said. “There are bookshops bigger than your house, with books covering every wall. And even that doesn’t compare to the books at the Institute, far west of Falconwall. Their library is like a castle. You could read every day of your life and not even get half way through all the books.”
Ash and Rae shared a glance. “You’re exaggerating,” Rae said.
Sim grinned and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “I know it’s hard to imagine. But I’ll take you there one day. They say that anything you could ever want to know is written there somewhere.”
“Next you’ll be telling us that magicians are real.”
Sim tilted his head. “I heard that Wichden was visited by Faceless Monks the day before I arrived.”
Ash gulped and dropped his gaze.
“I heard a certain man met an unfortunate end… I doubt the Faceless used knives…”
Rae cleared her throat. “That’s different. They’re Monks.”
“Same thing.”
“You’re honestly saying there are real magicians?” Ash
said.
“Oh, you poor children; you have no idea. Magicians are very real. Falconwall is full of them. Even Port Saval has a few, especially in the noble households.”
Ash didn’t doubt the Monks had power, but that was given to them by the gods. Magicians were for folktales; they certainly didn’t wander around cities.
“Ignore me if you want,” Sim said. “But just you wait until we get to Falconwall; it’ll blow your little minds.”
In the afternoon of the second day, they came to a river with a small town nestled against its curve. A handful of stone buildings gathered around a bubbling fountain with a stone statue of Talon, God of Strength, standing in its center. A stone bridge arced away from the town and across the river where it joined a bigger road that followed the course of the river downstream.
“This is Brackenbridge,” Sim said. “We’ll stay here tonight.”
“But it’s not even dark yet,” Ash said.
Sim grinned and wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “Just wait until you get down. You’ll be glad we stopped when you feel how sore you are.”
He was right. Ash spent the rest of the night hobbling around with his hands clasped around his lower back. He’d barely noticed their bumpy ride but now it felt as if he’d spent the last two days on a bucking horse. Rae looked no better and they both fell into exhausted and painful sleep.
The next day, every bump felt like a sledgehammer to Ash’s spine. “Can’t you ride smoother?” he said.
“Or install pillows?” Rae said.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it. By the time we get to Falconwall you won’t even notice.”
Ash very much doubted that.
On the fourth day out of Wichden, they spotted a glimmer on the horizon.
“That, my young lad and lass, is Port Saval.”
Ash leaned forward, craning his neck to see the city he’d heard so much about. “When will we get there?”
“I’m afraid we won’t be going through Saval. It’ll only slow us down.”
“But it’s supposed to be the biggest city in Stonewall,” Rae said.
“It is. But it’s only half the size of Falconwall. Trust me; you’ll get your fill of big cities.”
Ash didn’t want to argue with Sim, so he settled for leaning forward and staring at the glimmer on the horizon.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get close enough for you to see it. We’re just not going through.”
Ash settled back in his seat, his stomach bubbling with excitement.
By mid afternoon the glimmer had grown and resolved into a mass of buildings surrounding a huge castle. It was still a way in the distance, but the pure size of it defied Ash’s imagination.
“It’s so big,” he whispered.
“Compared to Wichden,” Sim said. “Take a good look, this is where we turn.”
He turned the wagon right to where a bridge arced over the river onto a smaller path that led south. A wooden post with signs on it stood in the fork of the road. One sign, reading Port Saval, pointed toward the city, while the other read Southlands.
Ash and Rae turned in their seats to keep Port Saval in their sights. Beyond the city, a brighter sparkle greeted them.
“Is that the ocean?” Ash lurched to his feet.
The wagon rocked beneath him and he tripped, stumbled toward the edge.
“Whoa.” Sim grabbed his shirt and yanked him down. “Yes, it is. Watch what you’re doing.”
Ash barely heard him. He stared at the glimmer on the horizon until his eyes stung. He’d heard stories of the ocean, had even seen a picture once in a book, but to see the real thing…
“Don’t worry, lad,” Sim said. “Falconwall sits right on the ocean. And you’ll have plenty of time to see it as we travel south. The road follows the cliffs for more than a day’s ride.”
Ash allowed himself to tear his gaze from the city and face frontward.
Rae gripped his hand and met his gaze. “The ocean!”
8
“Welcome to Iron Meadow,” Sim said, flourishing his hand. “The last civilized town of the northern kingdoms.”
The buildings crowded close together, more of them than they’d seen in most of the towns they’d passed. A two-story inn stood on the main road with a brown leather boot painted on its hanging sign. People milled around outside and wandered along both sides of the road.
They pulled up to the inn and got down from the wagon. Ash rubbed his back; the pain of a few days ago had dulled, but he still walked like a bent, old man.
A young boy ran forward from the side of the inn. “Staying the night, trader?”
Sim grinned at the boy and flicked him a copper coin. “See she’s taken care of and if you see no-one touches my wagon, there’s another one in it for you.”
The boy nodded and took hold of Gillie’s reins.
Ash clutched his and Rae’s rough bag of belongings and followed Sim into the glowing light of the bar-room.
“Stay close,” Sim said. “The Boot’s all right, but Iron Meadow can be an unfriendly place. Not their fault of course, being right on the border of civilization. Still, serves to be careful.”
Ash hugged their belongings close to his chest and shuffled closer to Sim.
“Ah, Sim.” A round bartender emerged from a back room with his arms opened wide. “Heading back to the southlands then?”
“Same as every other year,” Sim said with a wink.
The bartender laughed and his stomach jiggled. “Collected some strays while you were here?”
“Need some help with the shop in Falconwall,” Sim said.
“Now don’t let him corrupt you with his Southern ways, with their fancy clothes and blasphemy. You’re northerners.” He tapped his chest twice with two fingers.
Ash and Rae returned the gesture.
“Good! Maybe you’ll be able to teach this southern git a thing or two.”
“Say what you want,” Sim said. “If this were a southern inn, I would have a room and food already.”
“All right, all right,” the bartender said. “Usual room, top right. Sit down and I’ll have the boy bring you some food.”
“Thank you kindly,” Sim said, tapping his chest with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The bartender scowled as he returned the gesture. “Too smart for your own good. Are you looking for company on the way south?”
“Just one mercenary,” Sim said. “The road was smooth on the way here.”
“Aye, haven’t had many reports of trouble. Still, you can never be too sure. There’s a few mercenaries here looking for work. Big group in the middle table and then a couple of others scattered about. I’m sure you can pick ‘em.”
“I’m sure I can,” Sim said. “Thanks. We’ll take a seat.”
The bartender nodded and disappeared back through the doorway. Sim led them to a table by the wall that looked out at the rest of the room. Rae and Ash sat together on one side, Sim on the other.
A rowdy group of men took up the central table, playing a game of cards. All of them had knives at their belts and wore leather vests. At the bar, a group of men and women who looked like locals sat in deep discussion. Solitary men sat about the room and nursed their drinks or watched the game of cards.
“Where are all the female mercenaries?” Rae said. “Some came through Wichden once, they were amazing.”
“Ah,” Sim said. “Iron Meadow is a stopping point, you see, between the north and south. In the south, women aren’t usually allowed to take up the sword.”
“Allowed?”
Sim twirled his hands. “In some ways, the north and south are very different.”
“But women can fight.”
“That’s true, but would you say Ash here could run a business?”
Rae frowned. “Of course.”
“Then why can’t northern men inherit?”
“I—that’s how it’s always been.”
“The same is true in the south with w
omen and swords.”
Ash stared down at the table. He couldn’t imagine anyone telling Rae she couldn’t do anything. She’d do it just to spite them. Then again, he’d never questioned his inability to inherit. Not that their parents had much to leave them anyway.
“It doesn’t seem right,” Rae said a few moments later.
Sim nodded. “There are many things that don’t seem right. But we can put the world to right another night. Here’s our food.”
After several nights of eating roadside meals, the smell of hot stew and home-made bread made Ash’s mouth water. A short boy in a white apron laid the bowls on their table and scurried back to the kitchen.
Ash bent his head and let the aroma waft up his nostrils. He tore off a hunk of bread and dunked it in the thick sauce. It tasted like meaty heaven as it slid over his tongue, and they spent the next half an hour in silence.
“I never knew stew could taste so good,” Rae said, mopping up the last of her meal with her bread.
“Travel has that affect on people. Now, to business. We have to find a mercenary to accompany us south.”
Ash rested a hand on his full stomach. “Why?”
“The next section of road isn’t claimed by any kingdom and so it’s not maintained. There are no patrols and few villages. Unsavory characters make such places their homes.”
“Bandits?” Rae said.
“Amongst other things. I’m sure we’ll be fine, but it’s good to have protection on the way. However, choosing the right protection is just as important. It’s not unheard of for the bandits to send their own people disguised as mercenaries to trick unwary travelers.”
Ash frowned and looked around the bar, the rowdy group in the middle seemed far more dangerous and the individuals nursing their drinks took on a sinister air.
“How do you know?” Rae said.
“With practice, you can learn to read people. Once you can read people you might even learn to become people.”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
Sim waved his hand. “That’s for another day. For now, we just have to study our options. Do you see the man in the corner, wearing a purple cloak?”
Shadow of a Slave (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 1) Page 4
