Slavers of the Savage Catacombs

by Jon F. Merz

  “I’ll wait then,” said Ran.

  Again Gunj only shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. You’re part of the company now. You can do what you wish.”

  Ran watched him lace up straps on another mule. “How go preparations for tomorrow’s departure?”

  “We’ll be ready to leave as soon as dawn breaks. That’s about how you know things are prepared.” Gunj eyed him. “Have you ever ridden with a caravan before?”

  Ran shook his head. “Nope. I’m afraid I’m brand new to the experience.”

  “But you’ve done a lot of fighting in the past. That much is obvious.” Gunj turned back to the mules. “And someone trained you very well.”

  “My father was Murai. Do you know of them?”

  Gunj grunted. “I know what the Murai are. They are exceptional warriors.” He glanced at Ran. “But you do not fight like a Murai warrior.”

  Ran tried to laugh it off. “That’s very true. Much to the consternation of my father. He always wanted me to be like him, and I guess I failed at it. Never had a head for memorizing complicated technical movements and the like. I guess I just preferred to think about fighting in another way.”

  Gunj cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  Something about how the little man asked unnerved Ran a bit. Gunj was a worldly guy. He had no doubt seen his share of fighters over the years. Was it possible that he also knew about the shadow warriors? Ran guessed that it was entirely possible. Maybe even likely. But the question was, did he suspect Ran of being one? Or had his fighting style simply confused the smaller man? Either way, Ran would have to be sure to disguise himself as much as possible in his mannerisms and actions.

  Ran wandered around the warehouse and looked inside, spotting huge pallets of merchandise. He found Gunj again. “Are we taking all of that with us?”

  Gunj nodded. “Not to worry, we have the transportation to handle it.”

  “And the security to protect it?”

  Gunj laughed. “Well, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” He moved off, humming a song to himself.

  Yasseh showed up a few minutes later with several workers in tow and hailed Ran when he saw him. “What brings you down here so early? We’re not due to leave until dawn tomorrow.”

  Ran tugged on his sleeve. “Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?”

  Yasseh glanced at the men around him. “Leave us.” He waited until the men vanished and then smiled at Ran. “What’s this about? I hope you’re not reconsidering our employment arrangement?”

  “Not at all,” said Ran. “However, something has come to my attention, and I felt you should know about it so we can take the appropriate steps to counter it.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Ran eyed him. “There’s a plan afoot to rob your caravan.”

  If he’d expected Yasseh to look alarmed, Ran was sorely disappointed when the elder merchant merely let loose a hearty laugh. “Rob my caravan, is it? Is that what’s got you so worried?” Yasseh pulled out a long-stemmed pipe and started filling it with tobacco. “Let me tell you something, Ran. The nature of my business is that we are always under threat of attack. When you get as successful as I have become, the threat of robbers and brigands and the like is always with you. And we have seen more than our fair share of such things over the life of my company. It’s one reason why I take security as seriously as I do.”

  “I just thought you would want to know,” said Ran.

  “Indeed I do,” said Yasseh. “How did you come by this information?”

  “I overheard it in a tavern.” Suddenly, it didn’t sound as reputable as it had when Ran had played this scene out in his head beforehand.

  Yasseh clapped him on the back. “Listen, son, if everything that was spoken by drunks around a table in a tavern was to be believed, the world as we know it wouldn’t last a day. So many schemes and machinations have been born amid the tankards and liquid bravado that inhabits such places, yet have never seen the light of day. I’ve heard fairy tales of demons and dragons and dungeons filled with magical weapons and more gold than can be yanked from the earth itself. To this day I have never seen a demon. Nor a dragon.” He chuckled. “I may have seen a dungeon or two, but never one filled with gold or magic weapons. Pity, that.”

  Ran smiled. “I guess you’re right. After all, if you weren’t, then you wouldn’t be as prosperous as you are.”

  Yasseh blew out a smoke ring and sighed. “Danger comes with the territory. At my age, I don’t have to keep going out on the caravans, you know. I could easily hire someone else to oversee them. But you know why I still do it?”

  “You enjoy the uncertainty,” said Ran. “The risk attracts you.”

  “Aye,” said Yasseh. “What else is there in life that lets you know you’re truly alive if not for the risk of death? Only when we are close to the edge of oblivion do we fully appreciate what it is to draw a breath, see a sunrise, or lay with a woman. I’m never as happy sitting around a city some place as I am when I’m out on the roads that connect civilizations. I get to meet new people. I get to see places most never do. Even with the risk of attack, this is a fine life.”

  Ran eyed him. “And if the attack is legitimate and you die in the process?”

  Yasseh shrugged. “Then it is Argul’s will that such a thing happen to me.”

  “Argul? Is that your god?”

  Yasseh blew out another smoke ring. This one failed to float high. He frowned at it and then shook his head. “Argul was my second wife. And never has a more bitter, hate-filled woman walked the grass of this world. She cursed me to die when my proclivity for chasing skirts got the better of me. So far, I’ve kept that curse at bay.” He smiled. “But I suppose one day it will catch up with me. You can’t put that much hatred out into the universe and not expect it to manifest somehow.”

  They were distracted by the sound of an approaching horse. Yasseh turned, and Ran saw a broad smile spread across his face. “Ah, my son is here at long last.”

  Ran turned and nearly forgot to control himself. The man on the approaching horse was none other than Ejul the bandit. But Ran managed to keep the shock from registering with a quick series of shallow breaths.

  Ejul paid him no mind anyway and smiled at Yasseh before sliding down out of the saddle. Ran could see that Ejul’s two stumps had been fitted with two metallic hooks that enabled him to ride the horse.

  Yasseh embraced his son and then pulled away. “Better now?”

  Ejul held up his hooks and shrugged. “Thank you for the gift, Father. They will enable me to perform many tasks. Not as much as I would like, however.”

  Yasseh turned to Ran. “You see the sort of danger that exists. My son, Ejul, here was out of town for a few days. He was attacked in a village by a crazed swordsman who hacked off both of his hands. Can you imagine such a thing?”

  “The world can be a terrible place,” said Ran.

  “And a wonderful one for sparing my only son,” said Yasseh. He turned to Ejul. “This is Ran. I’ve hired him on as security for the upcoming trip.”

  Ejul eyed Ran for the first time, and the shadow warrior felt the man’s gaze rove over him, quietly appraising him. After a moment, Ejul frowned. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

  Ran wished for nothing more than a convenient disguise at that moment. But to shrink and become shy would only confirm any suspicions Ejul might have. So instead, Ran did the opposite and opened up with a hearty laugh. “I shouldn’t think so. I’ve only recently arrived in the city. But perhaps we passed in the streets.”

  “I’ve only just returned myself,” said Ejul. “Where did you come from before this?”

  “Naran.”

  Ejul smirked. “That place. It’s a wonder you made it out of there alive.”

  “Not really a wonder,” said Yasseh. “Ran is a skilled warrior. Even Gunj says so.”

  Ejul’s eyebrows creased his forehead. “Is that so? Well, you must be very special,
indeed. You’re lucky to be able to wield those swords. I no longer have such luck, myself.”

  “And yet you are handling this adversity as well as any man could,” said Yasseh. “I am extremely proud of you for that.”

  “Most noble,” said Ran. He turned toward Yasseh. “I have a few remaining items to handle before I join you at dawn tomorrow, so I’ll take my leave now.” He nodded to Ejul. “Good to meet you. Will you be accompanying us on the caravan?”

  “Me? No, I’m afraid I’d be more of a liability than an asset. If we were attacked, I’d scarcely be able to do anything, I fear. I will remain here in Chulal and see after the business. Someone has to balance the books and make sure we don’t run out of money.”

  Yasseh laughed. “Ejul has a great mind for business. Once I’m tucked away in the ground somewhere, I expect he will have no trouble assuming leadership and continuing the family’s success.”

  Ran bowed. “I will leave you to that, then. Good day.” He moved back down the quay toward the busier streets of Chulal, fully aware that Ejul’s eyes were still on him as he did so. What were the chances that the man he’d nearly killed a few nights ago would turn out to be the son of the man Ran now worked for? He almost grinned. He’d been told many times by the elders at the clan that the universe worked in mysterious ways. It wasn’t worth the effort trying to figure out what sort of bizarre conditions must have come into alignment to make this connection, but they had. And now Ran would be forced to deal with it. The good news, he supposed, was that Ejul was staying back here in Chulal. Of course, Ran suspected that was a convenient lie to facilitate the actual ambush.

  The real question was why? Ejul seemed to have a privileged life of wealth and opportunity. How was it that he had fallen in with the likes of thugs and bandits? He only had to wait out his father’s death before he would inherit a large company that would guarantee him financial security for the rest of his life. Why would he attack his own family’s business?

  It made no sense, Ran decided. But then again, so often the workings of the minds of men failed to make sense. Perhaps Ejul was impatient. Perhaps he owed large sums of money to people. Whatever the case, Ran would need to keep his wits about him during the trip. If Ejul suspected Ran was the man who had cut off his hands, then Ran’s life would be in serious jeopardy.

  As a precaution, he took the long route back to Tanka’s apartments, tripling back upon his long and winding trail several times to throw off any interested pursuers. Each time he did so, he detected nothing amiss, and it was finally nearing late afternoon when he opened the door to the apartment and walked inside.

  Tanka was already there. As Ran came in, he waved him over to the small table and the oil lamp that burned on it.

  “The falks have returned from Gakur.”

  Ran’s heart ticked over. “What is the word?”

  “I’m decoding it now,” said Tanka. “Pull up a chair and help me.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The technique for decoding messages from Gakur changed depending on the time of year. But since Ran wasn’t assigned to an outpost, he didn’t have access to the various codes employed by the Nine Daggers clan to keep its messages secure. So as Ran watched, Tanka took the lead and began writing two lines of script beneath the coded message.

  “We’re using a special key that Ginjo developed,” said Tanka. “How he comes up with these things is beyond me. I can’t imagine anyone ever being able to break our codes, but he certainly tries to ensure that even we have a tough time of it.”

  Ran grinned. “I remember Ginjo’s class on secret inks and how to use them. Who would have thought that urine had so many uses?”

  Tanka chuckled. “That was a smelly session, if I recall correctly.”

  “You were years ahead of me, but it was pungent to say the least when we used it.” Ran watched Tanka copy down another line of code. “Four lines?”

  Tanka nodded. “Ginjo is never complacent. So he builds a false message into the coded transcripts. If someone intercepts this and they’re able to break the code to a certain point, they’ll get a whole lot of misinformation.”

  “So once you get something that looks like a real message, it’s not?”

  “Exactly. The real message is a further two lines down. You have to keep decoding it. Ginjo thinks that most people are inherently lazy and won’t commit to continuing to decode when it appears they’ve got a legitimate message staring them in the face.”

  “It must take real talent to embed a false message within the code.”

  Tanka sighed. “Talent? I guess so. But most of us think that old Ginjo might be getting a bit touched in the head in his old age. And frankly, it’s a pain in the backside to have to handle such a decoding. It would be far easier to not make it this complex.”

  “But less secure, too,” said Ran. “Seems like Ginjo might know best in this case.”

  “I suppose. I’d just like to see him have to decode one of his own messages sometime and let him feel what a delight it is to sit here for the better part of an hour.” Tanka refreshed the ink in his quill and began writing again.

  Ran watched as the script continued to flow, recognizing certain characters and not knowing others. As Tanka worked, tiny beads of sweat pooled on his brow. Ran poured him a cup of water and brought it over. Tanka took it with a grin.

  “Thanks.”

  “You look like you need it.” Ran pulled a chair up again. “Almost done?”

  “Not just yet. One more series to go through and I should have it complete.” Tanka nodded at the candle above them, which had burned down low. “It’s already taken far too long as it is. If this was some sort of emergency, imagine trying to decode it. Sometimes the precautions get to be a bit overkill. We need a quicker alternative.”

  “Do you have to encode them the same way?”

  Tanka sighed. “Thankfully not. We use a simpler method, which helps in the event of a crisis or something urgent. I wonder if Ginjo simply does this to keep all of his former students up to the task of dealing with his codes.” He set the quill down. “There. Finally.”

  Ran peered over his shoulder. “Well?”

  Tanka read the message and then handed it over. “I’m sorry, Ran. I know how much you wanted to leave with the caravan.”

  Ran looked down and read:

  Agent hereby ordered to proceed north and fully investigate claims of forthcoming invasion.

  Ran frowned and handed the message back. Tanka took it and held the parchment to the candle flame. The fire licked its way up and over the edges, curling the paper up as it did so. Ran watched the ink bubble again and then dissolve into dark ash. Tanka held it until the last possible second before dropping it onto the table, where it burned itself out. Tanka dutifully gathered the ashes, carried them to the window, and sprinkled them upon the breeze.

  “Well, so much for that.” He turned away from the window and nodded at Ran. “When will you leave?”

  Ran shrugged. “Tomorrow is as good a day as any, I’d expect. Can you set me up with some supplies?”

  Tanka nodded. “I’ve got a store of dried-food provisions. You’ll have to acquire any cold-weather gear on the way. It would look a bit suspicious to send you out of town wearing heavy garb and boots.”

  “Good point. I’m sure there are towns along the way north I can stop at.”

  Tanka went to his shelf and drew out a map of northern Igul. “There’s Kalang-yao, which is about the last outpost of civilization before the Shard Mountains. No doubt you can find what you need there. If I were you, I’d make my trip north as quick as possible. From what I’ve heard, Kalang-yao is not the most hospitable place. The locals are wary and a hard folk to get along with.”

  “Why so?”

  “The proximity of the mountains makes them hard. Living up there is nothing short of a struggle year round.”

  “So why stay?”

  “The locals hunt the ice tigers that live in the snowy mountains. Ice tiger
pelts are prized by people to the west, and they’re willing to pay a hefty price indeed for the luxury of the skins. As far as I know, the people who live in Kalang-yao are the only ones who have the skill to hunt the big cats without getting killed by them. Definitely a tough way to live life.”

  “No doubt they’ll be even more suspicious when I show up. What are the odds someone from Nehon has ever been to the town before?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tanka. “It hasn’t really been of interest to the clan, so I know none of our kind have ever there. But a merchant or two from Nehon may have made it that far north. They do trade, after all.”

  Ran nodded. “Then that would be my way in, I suppose. A young trader from Nehon looking to import exotic items from the frozen north. It could work.”

  “Better than going as a sword-for-hire,” said Tanka. “There’d be no need for that up there.”

  “All right then. I’ll have that store of dried food, if you can manage it. Also, a map of the area would be good. I’ll need to study it before I head up there. Try to find the most logical point for an invading army to come through.”

  “I’ve heard rumors of a hidden pass so remote and harsh that most don’t even try to travel through it. But I have no idea where it might be. Something tells me that you’ll have to figure that out once you’re there.”

  “No doubt,” said Ran. “If I can get the locals to take a liking to me, perhaps they will be kind enough to show me the pass. After all, if they’re hunting tigers in the snow and ice, they ought to know the area well enough.”

  Tanka eyed him. “And what will you do when the locals figure out you’re not a trader?”

  “Disappear,” said Ran with a grin. “Isn’t that what we’re best at?”

  Ran lay awake for a long time that night. The coded message from the clan back in the misty peaks of Gakur had left nothing to question. Ran’s orders were clear: go north, figure out if there was any truth to what Kan-Gul had boasted about. He was being sent away from his planned excursion west and redirected north to investigate what would probably turn out to be nothing but the ravings of a madman he’d already killed.