by Ronald Long
Wisym was beginning to consider sailing away after trying to reason with this short and pudgy man when she heard another hailing from a ship just now coming into port.
“Hail! What brings the elves of Ingur to Beaton?”
Wisym turned. Here was someone who knew the banners of the elves!
She saw a ship that was much larger than their own that was also emblazoned with the red banners of Beaton with black castles.
The difference, that was not lost to Wisym, was that this ship’s flag bore no shield upon the door.
“Dock Master! Let the elves come to my ship with haste!”
The dock master huffed loudly, then turned and left the ship with the rest of the guards of Beaton.
Perhaps not everyone in the city was as difficult at that pudgy dock master, Wisym thought.
***
“You will have to excuse the Red Guard for how they handle the docs of Beaton." The governor said as he invited Wisym Isaac Frank and Greg into the captain's cabin of his ship the heart of Beaton.
In fact, he said as he motioned for them to help themselves to refreshment. You have to excuse the Red Guard for many of their activities.
Wisym was less concerned about who the Red Guard might be when she saw the fabulous spread out in front of her.
There'll several different types of bread as well as fruits that she recognized and others that were new to her. There was turkey, venison, fish, and other food lay out on a magnificent table. The hungry hills loaded their plates while doing their best to remember manners. Having nothing for the last two days save for moldy bread, however, can cause one's table manners to be a little less than desirable.
The governor of being seems not to be perturbed by the ravenous sounds the eldest made as they ate.
After having taken a dozen bytes of whatever food was within reach, Wisym looked to the man who was their host and apparently the leader of the city by the sea.
He was an older gentleman with gray hair and beard that was well groomed. His blue eyes were not faded by his age and showed the kindness that was inside of him. That he was not taller than Wisym; she knew that he was tall for a man. It was not skinny, nor was he heavyset, but instead his frame show that he was a man not given into indulgence but also not familiar with the pain of hunger.
Seeing how his guests ate, Wisym's saw him signal for a servant who stood nearby.
"if this is indie indication as to how hungry the rest of the elder board their ships are please send rations to them immediately. I will not have guests of my city going hungry."
The servant nodded and then hurried out of the room.
Turning his attention back to the four elves sitting at his table he spoke directly to Wisym.
"Tell me your story sister of Talgel."
He placed an elbow on the table and his head in one hand as he looked into the eyes of what windy new must be a very tired looking elf.
She sighed deeply and then began to relive the events of the past month that led her to the shores of the Red Sea.
***
When all was told, the governor shook his head.
"I have heard of trouble brewing in the goblin lands as well as down in the southern republic. But I had no idea that it had come to war."
Finding within herself a renewed strength from the food and renewed hope from the warm reception she had received from the governor, Wisym made her plea.
"Please Governor," she begged. "You have heard our tail and so know how desperate our situation is. We need aid. Whether it be armies or supplies or place to call a safe haven we are at your mercy."
The governor leaned his head back against his chair and took a deep breath. His expression was changing from one of sympathy to that of a helpless onlooker.
"My title maybe governor, but I'm afraid my powers here in the city are few and limited. Every action I take must be tested against the red guard's wishes."
He cast a glance out of the window of the ship towards the walls of the city. He spoke more to himself then to the elves I just table.
"Many years ago when I was first elected governor, crime and evil were rampant in my city. I was desperate for anything that could rid us of the terrible blight that was plaguing us. When I was promised that justice could be restored if I handed over some of my power to the Red Guard, I was quick to agree. Perhaps I was more concerned with being reelected and pleasing the people then I was about my ability to lead on my own."
He looked back at the elves with a very sad expression on his face.
"I will do what I can to lobby for you so that aid may be sent. But I fear there is much red tape we must pass through before I can often authorize such a venture."
Wisym felt deflated. The first he had such high hopes that the governor of the city would be able to help. Now she was being told he was little more than a puppet. Her current experience with the Red Guard and there dockmaster did not bode well for sending Aid quickly back home.
"What I can offer is rest for you and your people, though I know it is not everything you desire."
As he spoke the doors of of the cabin opened and two young men walked in. Wisym noticed that they were addressed finally in maroon and gold. Neither of them looked to be more than 30 human years.
"Ah," said the governor. "If I am limited, perhaps these men may be able to better assist you, Wisym of Talgel."
He stood to his feet and gestured to the two men with his hand.
"May I introduce to you, the princes of Thoran."
Chapter 41:
The Northern Wastes
Ealrin had been walking for a solid week. He had been following General Verde for the last month ever senses he had seen him venture into the Northern Wastes from Beaton. Ealrin was also keenly aware that the general was on a mission. He stayed as far back from him as he dared, merely following the tracks and trails of travel, as Holve had nearly a year ago when they tracked a thief together.
Why the general had Holve's spear, Ealrin couldn't be sure. He did know, however, that the necklace he carried looked extremely similar to the one that belonged to Blume. That he intended to get back and return to its owner. He prayed that Blume had indeed been transferred to the magical college in Irradan and sparred the war ravaging the south.
His thoughts lingered on his adopted daughter as he followed Verde. It gave him hope and warmth as he pressed on. To think that, even though there was great evil in the world, there could shine a light of hope as bright as Blume Dearcrest surely was a sign that all was not lost, that evil had not triumphed.
Ealrin also pondered the odd series of events that had led him to the Northern Wastes to follow Verde in first place. Blume’s fate. Thoran’s current struggles. He shook his head clear. He needed to focus on tracking Verde, not call up the past.
As Ealrin followed the general west, he began to wander what quest he might have been sent on by his commanding officer and now ruler of the Southern Republic: Androlion. What would have been so pressing that one of his best generals and most loyal supporters should be sent to the Wastes? Perhaps he had somehow fallen out of grace in the last month. Perhaps now that the south lay in his grasp, he sought something to help him acquire Thoran. Though, in reality, with the south under his rule, conquering Thoran should not prove to be difficult. This also drove Ealrin to follow Verde: to see if there was something Androlion sought that he might steal in order to disrupt the Merc leader.
On this day, Ealrin followed Verde closer than he had before, making sure to keep him in his sights. The blizzard was worsening and the wind blew against him. He felt that if he were to lose him in the snow, he might be lost as well. He had not yet made himself as familiar with the territory surrounding the inn as he would have liked. Unlike Holve, he was not keeping at least a hundred maps in his head at once. Instead of tracking him in the snow and because he was dangerously close to him, Ealrin kept inside the forest that had appeared around midday. While Verde hugged its border, Ealrin tracked him from within
.
As they approached what appeared to be a hill to Ealrin, though it was hard to tell, in this blinding snow, Verde stopped suddenly. Ealrin just barely had been able to make out something flying swiftly through the air at him. Then, as swiftly as a fox, someone jumped from the woods and wrapped themselves around the general. Ealrin saw the blade drawn from the sheath, and the unmistakable slice of Verde's throat.
Ealrin dropped to his stomach in order to not be seen. The killer had crouched down over his body and was now picking through the belongings he had on him.
So this is how one of the greatest generals is defeated, he thought, by a simple thief.
But there was something more to this thief. Something that seemed both familiar and strange. Ealrin noticed the wolfskin laid on their back and the mask of a white wolf that covered their face. He saw the strikingly silver hair that was long and braided and now fell over her right shoulder. The thief was a woman. And not just any woman, nor truly a thief.
Ealrin had heard the stories of this woman from those who stayed at the inn. She was deadly, swift, a bounty hunter without comparison. She was exactly what Ealrin needed.
A plan was forming in his head as he boldly came into view on purpose and walked toward her. He knew that she desired him to die than he would be dead within a moment's notice. He also knew that, somehow, the fates were not done with him yet and that this would not be his last day.
He hoped his feelings were not wrong.
The wind changed and he knew a hunter as skilled as she would detect him. And indeed she spun on her heel and raised her sword, ready to strike at this newcomer who had invaded her capture of a bounty.
Ealrin was shocked as he approached her at her beauty. The hard life which she must live had not affected her radiance. And though the face which she gave Ealrin surely bespoke of a quick and efficient end, her eyes betrayed something that Ealrin had learned to look for in others:
Beauty.
He made no sudden movements towards his own weapon which remained at his side. She looked as if she could strike at any moment and indeed, Ealrin may well have already been dead had her knife not been currently residing in Verde's heart.
He spoke loudly, boldly, and with as much courage as he could find within himself, for he knew that if he were right and the plan he had in his mind would work, that the senseless war in the south could find an abrupt end. But this would be the first step of many. The first part of a long journey that hinged on the answer he now sought from a skilled assassin and bounty hunter.
Even he was surprised at the calmness in his voice as he yelled over the blizzard:
"Silverwolf! Hunter of the north! I am Ealrin, knight of the sword and servant of those who wish to keep the continent of Ruyn in a state of peace."
The assassin hesitated. She lowered her blade a fraction. Yes indeed, the fates were not done with Ealrin. He then said the words he would remember for the rest of his life:
"I have a job for you."
Afterword
Thanks for reading Wayward, the first volume of The Sword Chronicles.
Visit retrovertbooks.com/news to sign-up for updates about future releases and other things related to The Legends of Gila!
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I’d love to hear your feedback on Wayward and how future books can be even better!
You’ll be able to explore more of the world of Gilia in the next volume in this trilogy: Defiance.
Coming Summer 2014.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank these people for their work in helping me along the way:
My wife, just for putting up with me and loving me.
Jesse Stark for being an excellent beta reader.
Frank Hong for being so generous in allowing me to use his artwork for the cover.
Aaron Krogh for his awesome music.
And Alli, for reminding me what its like to have a passion to write. Thanks girl. Now go write your own book!
