“I don’t want to die, please don’t kill me.” Tears streaked the dried blood and dust on Emeck’s face.
“Look. I meant what I said before about protecting you. What you saw was from a long time ago. I'm not that person any more. I tried to protect you from those memories but I failed. Some things were never meant to see the light of day.” Urake untied the rope around his waist and loosed the bindings around Emeck’s wrists. The boy was still crying and cowering but was a little better. Urake took a seat a few feet away and waited for Emeck to recover. If the lad ran he was prepared to let him go. He had already put Emeck through a hell of sorts. Now he needed to gain the boy’s trust. Lies and threats were not likely to attain this goal.
“Why, why aren’t you going to kill me?” Emeck was still hardly able to form words.
“I was never as bad as the stories you heard would indicate. Honestly, most of the people I supposedly killed were only relocated. They got to keep their lives and in return for working for me.” Urake leaned back and closed his eyes.
“But why did you do it?”
“I don’t really know any more. It was a job. Someone was needed to stop those that misused their powers. Most of the ones I was told to kill were innocent though.” There was a few moments of silence broken only by Emeck’s sniffling before Urake continued. “Did you get what you needed to find Skeln?” Urake had employed a tracker in his old life. He had learned what they needed to identify a mind and was often able to build a recognizable profile from examining the individual’s life. That skill was used to build Skeln’s profile for Emeck. He only hoped that the boy was strong enough to use what he now knew to find Skeln. Too many hours had elapsed and the trail almost certainly lost on the rocky dry creek bed that they had been following.
“I think so.” Emeck closed his eyes and focused. “He isn’t near here but I think I can see him. There are other people around him.”
“Soldiers?”
“No, just people. I can’t see him. It’s like... Like he can...” Emeck’s blue eyes flew open “He is one of us. I think he sensed me watching and it was like he just hid.”
“Can you see him from someone else’s eyes?”
“I can try but I haven’t managed it from so far away before.” Emeck again closed his eyes again and screwed up his face as he focused. “I saw him but it was only a memory. It’s a tailor and he just sold some clothes to a boy with blond hair and blue eyes.”
“So he is in a town. That makes tracking him virtually impossible. Without you, I don’t have a snowflake's chance in a blacksmith’s forge.” Urake waited until Emeck got up.
“What are we waiting for?” Urake had to smile. Emeck was doing much better than he had hoped.
“Why do you trust me now more than you did a few minutes ago?”
“You trusted me enough to untie me and let me into your head.” Emeck looked up shyly. “Besides you haven’t hurt me and have been nicer to me than the bandits were. If you wanted to kill me then I would be dead already.” Usually this one a logic that Urake had to present to other people. Few had realized it themselves. Urake thought life must have been a living hell for the lad in order for recent experiences to be termed nicer than anything. Urake got up and they continued on in the dry creek bed until a real creek took it over. Emeck paused long enough to clean the blood and dust off his face and for Urake to refill his water skin.
They then left the woods for a road and progressed towards the nearest town. They didn’t speak much. Each was left to their own thoughts. Urake’s returned over the years to the winter night over fourteen years ago. It was a wonder the child hadn’t frozen to death before Urake had found him. He had wrapped the child in the very same cloak he now carried. The first village he had come to after leaving the mountains had become his home.
Skeln had grown like a weed. Urake had noticed that oddly the child was nearly immune to cold. It was only fitting that the name he had been given that winter night had been derived from the old language describing cold. Not just cold but every kind of cold. To this day Urake still didn’t know why the infant had been left in the cold. His beginnings were in a snowy forest and he was named after a legendary sword. Skeln had mysterious beginnings to say the least. Emeck’s confirmation that the boy was gifted was no surprise. There was few other reasons why a healthy boy child would be abandoned like that.
Now the chancellor had cast his eye on Skeln. The man with all his power had an obsession with the gifted. Whatever the reasons for what drove the man, he was greedy and power hungry as they come. The immediate concern was that Urake needed to find Skeln before the chancellor's men succeeded in the same task. The more Urake thought about it the fewer options remained to him.
Arriving in the town Urake noted that Emeck was rather nervous with the relative proximity to so many people after his isolation in the black forest with the bandits. At times Urake suspected the boy got between him and his shadow. Warton was a town that Urake had frequented years ago. Not a whole lot had changed in the intervening years. Many of the shops had the same names on the doors. Others had changed. He hoped that not too much had changed. Taking a few turns he slipped between a couple buildings. Emeck remained glued to his side until they reached a back street in the poorer section of town. Here Urake asked him to wait at a door for his return. Emeck looked disappointed or scared, Urake wasn’t sure it was either or both, but he waited outside obediently.
The dimly lit establishment was a drinking house of a sort populated by the poorer denizens of the neighborhood. The better off impoverished spent their time at the other ale house on the lane. It boasted two torches to light the room. The popular suspicion was that light was so scarce in this place so the patrons couldn’t see what was in their mugs. Stepping up to the counter Urake was relieved to see a familiar face. Sure the years had added a little white to the greasy hair and wrinkles to the round face but familiar it remained.
“What will you be drinking? I have a fresh bottle of wine open or I could get you a mug of my stronger drinks.” The barkeep inquired gruffly.
“I'm not in the mood for drinking. If I was I would take a glass of the gold vintage you keep hidden in the back. For living so close to the Garoche Lowland vineyards it is a wonder you still serve the swill you call fresh wine and have a business left to run.” Urake jested lightly and waited for a glimmer of recognition.
“You can go drink out of the gutter for all I care if you insult my ale house.” Brounn scowled and began polishing the hopelessly scarred, gouged and grease stained counter.
“My reputation must really have become tarnished. People used to laugh no matter if my joke was funny or not.” Urake lifted his arms to the countertop and slipped the bow off his shoulder. Brounn squinted at the bow then started with recognition.
“I have only seen one bow like that in my life. Forgive me. It has been years since we heard from you. Don’t think I really was telling you to go drink out of the gutter. Just a harmless jest.” Brounn spread his hands and laughed weakly.
“I think you meant it but would never have suggested the like if you had recognized me sooner. Don’t worry. I didn’t come to tie up loose ends.” Brounn paled a shade but recovered quickly with an offer of the golden wine that had been previously mentioned. Turning down the offer Urake continued.
“I need to know if any of my people might have had any indiscretions.”
“There were some unsavory types nosing around shortly after your disappearance but you picked your people well. None of them were ever suspected.” Brounn motioned Urake towards a back room and away from prying ears.
“Just a moment. I have a friend that is probably close to starving.” Urake lowered his mental guards and let an invitation to come in float near the surface. A moment later Emeck burst through the door. He paused as long as it took to adjust his eyes to the gloom before threading his way to Urake’s side. The sudden entrance had attracted the gaze of a few of the patrons but without seeing the expect
ed soldiers or angry drunk threatening, they returned to their deep contemplation of their own mugs. Emeck’s curious glance swept the room and returned to Urake.
“I need to talk with Brounn about some things for a little while but I will come back for you as soon as I'm done. In the meantime Brounn will make sure you get a good meal. On cue Brounn called to the serving girl at the other end of the room and told her to get a “fresh” plate of food from the “good” pot. Another plate was ordered to be delivered to the back room. Satisfied that Emeck wouldn’t be suffering from food poisoning, Urake then followed Brounn into the back room.
“We all thought you had died. Brest never gave up looking for you. He said that he didn’t believe you could be killed. None of us did but so many years passed without word. I’ve always kept an ear to the ground for word about Ice Heart.” Brounn dropped into a seat that looked like only the force of habit held it together.
“Things went very badly on my last job. It’s nice to know that I'm missed even if it is only for my sword. How is Brest anyways?”
“He died of the plague eleven years ago. He was a good tracker. As good as they come and loyal to the bone. After he died we all gave up any hope of finding you. It must really have gone wrong to make you disappear so many years. You sure know how to hide when you want to.” Brounn watched Urake as if he still expected to be double crossed.
“That’s too bad about Brest. He was a good friend. That last job turned out to be a set up I would have been proud to author. It was a masterpiece of sophistry. When I didn’t kill the mark everything collapsed on me like a house of cards.” Urake closed his eyes at the memory.
“The job didn’t come from the usual employer so who set you up or do you know?” Broun leaned forward and the chair gave a protesting creek.
“Yes, I found out that it was from the chancellor only he had been trying to cover his tracks. The mark was Illiad. I almost didn’t recognize him in time. I almost killed the only thing between Reigns and absolute power. When I tried to backtrack I found an elite squad was on my trail. They recruited an army that took me the better part of two weeks to shake.”
“The King? Poof.” Brounn sat back with another alarming squeak from the chair.
“I came out of retirement because I’m looking for someone.” Urake was glad that his chair was stouter as he leaned back.
“That lad out there is a tracker then?” Brounn furrowed his brow like he always did when he was consciously trying to hold up his mental barriers and block someone out.
“I was rather hoping to use Brest but Emeck is all I have. It was a rather fortunate event running across him in the black forest.” The plate of food arrived and Urake gave it a tentative sniff. Used to poorer fare he was still suspicious that anything could be edible if prepared in these surroundings. It was indeed from the good pot and had a delicious aroma that set his mouth to watering and his stomach rumbling.
“I would have cautioned you against going through that bandit infested forest. I have a few contacts there but for the most part it is lawless and they rob anyone blind that comes through.” Brounn lamented the lost shipments of several crates of unspecified merchandise through the valley.
“I met them and we parted company on pleasant enough terms. Mainly because none of them were capable of continuing their attempts to kill me.” Brounn forgot about keeping Emeck out of his head and laughed.
“Serves them right the thieving bastards. Bet they didn’t expect to meet the Asgare in their corner of the woods. But anyways, you were looking for an individual?”
“Yes. My son.”
“You... Your... So I take it that the tracker you brought hasn’t been able to find him?” Brounn apparently decided that it was safer the less he knew about the particulars.
“He was in town around noon today. That much Emeck was able to figure out before Skeln disappeared.”
“So he is Gifted. Might I ask what he is running from?” Brounn waited for Urake’s reply.
“Reigns sent some men after him. I don’t know how or why they knew about him or why they want him. Somehow Skeln knew about them and managed to escape under their noses.” Urake sopped a bit of the soup up with a piece of black bread.
“Are they still chasing him?”
“No, I saw to that. No one should be looking for us for a week or two at least and even then they won’t have a clue to go on.”
“Why haven’t you caught up to him then?” Brounn looked a little confused.
“I played the role of a drunk as part of my disguise. He saw through it but never knew who I was. He thinks they are still following him. You should have seen some of the things he did to hide his trail. I lost hours following dead ends and false starts. Things I would have done.” Urake finished the last of the food and pushed away the plate.
“He must have inherited your talents.” Brounn had relaxed and shifted positions to the tune of the chair’s complaints.
“That’s the thing. He’s adopted.” This revelation shocked Brounn upright.
“I never took you for the family type but adopting?”
“I know. At first it was part of my disguise but he grew on me. Now I need to find him. It’s one of the reasons for me being here. Aside from seeing you to tell you that you've grown older and fatter, I wanted to know if any of my network is still active.” Brounn laughed.
“And you haven’t changed accept for a little gray in your beard. You should shave that thing off. It makes you look a couple decades older.” It was Urake’s turn to laugh.
“I did shed that identity. No longer am I bound to the role of a drunkard.” Urake rubbed his beard and hair thoughtfully.
“Your network was a well-oiled machine when it went dark after your disappearance. Times have changed and it might be a wee bit rusty from disuse. It will take me a little while to start it up again. Some of the people have either died or moved on in the last fifteen years.”
“Good. Do what you can. Like you said, times have changed and I need information. I have a feeling that I will never be allowed to return to retirement.”
“Humph. You? Retired? Never! Give me a description of the lad and I will start sounding out my old contacts.” Urake gave a detailed description of Skeln and told Brounn to be ready at sunset everyday with any information. Urake would have Emeck check in should Brounn need to convey any information. Otherwise he would be checking in with his local contacts.
Urake left Brounn in the back room busy going about the tasks. Emeck joined him a moment later and nodded when asked if he could find Brounn again later. Leaving the establishment he took a deep breath of fresher air. The air in this part of town couldn't be dignified with the term fresh. Looking back he observed the rickety building he had just exited. No one walking by would have guessed that the largest spy network besides Reign’s was run from the back room of that disreputable ale house. Sometimes not hiding behind false fronts was the best hiding place. No one ever suspected Brounn because everyone assumed no one would be stupid enough to do any criminal business near that place.
“Who was that?” Emeck kept pace with Urake.
“The best spy in all Den'dra.”
Chapter Seven
Skeln decided that it was irrational to keep to the woods any longer. He had hid his tracks for quite a distance now. Eventually night would fall and Skeln had no intention of repeating his experience with the wolves. The thought of exposing himself to people was debated for a time. One aspect was that it was ridiculous to think that everyone would recognize him and was looking for him. Even the men in chainmail didn’t know what he looked like.
Remembering his pursuers decided him for leaving the woods. No matter how hard he tried there was still the possibility that they would have a hound on the trail. If that were the case no manner of trick or subterfuge would be sophisticated enough to lie to the hound. The only way to rid himself of such a tracker was to mix his scent with those of other people.
At this point Skel
n left the dry creek bed and cut back towards the center of the valley where he had seen a road. Here he was offered a ride by a man with a hay wagon. The offer was accepted and he was stowed in the back of the wagon. A few minutes later he was lulled to sleep by the movement and soft spring sun. It wasn’t until the low hubbub of the town that he awoke. Thanking his benefactor he slipped off the wagon into the crowd.
The first order of business he decided on was finding some new clothes. The ones he wore were in danger of drawing attention to him. No one he saw had anything so thoroughly threadbare. The town he found to be called Warton was many times larger than the obscure village he had grown up in. Never having been to another town he was of the impression that Warton was a city on the highest order.
Eventual Skeln found a tailor. He rather saw a window with real glass and on the other side was displayed a few sets of apparel. At first the man in charge of the establishment didn’t deigned to acknowledge the gutter rat that had accidently stepped through the door. Unable to keep up the presence when Skeln asked the price of a set of clothes in the display the tailor gave a deep sigh. The price quoted was many times what Skeln had available to him. Further interrogation revealed that the set in the window was made with a fine cotton cloth. A cheaper woolen set was eventually found that matched both Skeln’s size and budget.
Skeln handed over most of the silver in his possession and received the clothes. A clean gray shirt with a dark pair of trousers. Suddenly Skeln got the impression that he was being watched. Glancing around revealed that he was alone with the tailor who was counting the coin judiciously. The hair on the back of his neck rose and the tailor stopped moving his face a blank stare. A coin fell from his hand and rolled off the counter. The man’s blank expression scared Skeln enough that he took his new clothes and departed with all haste. The strange feeling of being observed continued off and on for a time before Skeln’s neck hair had settled back down. He would have convinced himself that it was nothing if it hadn’t been for the tailor’s odd actions.
Chronicles of Den'dra: A Land Torn: Ancient Powers Awaken Page 9
