Ez Ozel: Prologue to Perdition

by Dave Oliver

  “I’d appreciate that. Best watch out though. I’ve heard rumors of animal people up that way. Some people are saying it’s Rasend.”

  Dekler grinned. “Those people take the Propter a bit too seriously, I think. Probably just some eccentric homesteaders. You know how rumors are.”

  “You’re probably right.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “You need anything more from the Ward, don’t hesitate to ask. You taking this on alone really helps me out. Sparing one man is a lot easier than sparing a whole group with the military away.”

  “Understood, sir. I won’t let you down.”

  She gave him another smile and turned to tend to her own duties.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Merrik brought out the last of his books and slid them into an open sack. He tied it shut and stood back to survey the preparations. The wagon was nearly full with supplies. They’d be going by a few homesteads and farms on their way east, but there was no counting on their trading for supplies. Merrik ran through his list of items in his head and pointed at the respective container each item was in. When he was satisfied, he returned to the estate.

  He went back up to the foyer and saw Asra introducing herself to the staff. She knew some of them already, but it’d been a while since she’d seen them. She worked the room flawlessly. She told jokes, took particular care to learn and memorize everyone’s names, and commented what exceptional work they’d done keeping up the estate. It was true too; the place looked like the owner actually gave a shit about its general appearance and about how well kept everything was. Merrik hadn’t so much as given an order or direction to any of them in months, but no guest could tell from how well it’d been maintained. He gave the place a looking over and felt, for the briefest of moments, like he might be better off staying home with Asra and appreciating the things he had, even if health wasn’t one of them.

  And she looked exceptionally fine today. Her hair was up in one of the new trending styles and formed an alluring swirl before draping down her back. Her makeup was still subtle enough to be high class, but she’d definitely done it up with more care than normal. Her signature cinnamon scent filled his nostrils and he caught himself starting to smile.

  After sharing a laugh with one of the cooks, she turned and saw Merrik. She matched his smile with as much warmth as a person could give without actually being on fire.

  “Are you sure there isn’t room on your trek for me?” she asked. “I wouldn’t be a bother, and I could do with some adventure.”

  “Hardly an adventure, really,” Merrik replied. “We’re just heading east to get what I need from that blue marker. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to travel so far? What if you get hurt?”

  Merrik grinned at her. “We’ll be passing through Comfort on the way in case anything bad happens, and we have plenty of medical supplies. Al has handled my conditions for years. He’ll take care of me until my return.”

  “I see,” she said. “Well, do be careful. Is there anything to tend to in the estate that your staff isn’t already briefed on?”

  Merrik was touched. “You’re far too kind. I’ve been holed up in my study for a long time, so there’s nothing I take care of personally.”

  Asra glanced over to the study. “What about your bird?”

  Merrik followed her gaze. “Oh yes. Pod. I had forgotten about him.”

  “I’m on it,” she said with a slight nod. “I’ll give him plenty of attention.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “I’d be happy to. Your manor isn’t that far from mine, and I could use the fresh air and change of scenery of popping over here every day.” She glanced at the room behind her, next to the stairs. “Besides, you have quite a library I wouldn’t mind getting lost in.”

  “Very well,” he said. “You have the run of the house. When I get back, we can start this courtship proper. I know taking off for months after proposing the idea isn’t exactly orthodox.”

  “Bah,” she said, swatting at the words with her hand. “You’re the one who keeps telling me orthodoxy can rot. I’m perfectly happy with doing things differently.”

  “Agreed.”

  Outside, Alregon had finished preparing the horses and tying them to the yoke. He was just about to head into the estate when two men approached from the road. One was rather overweight and carried an absurdly large sword on his back. His hair and beard were wild and unkempt, and his clothes were stained with grease and dark liquor. The other was a more toned, muscular man who carried a crossbow on his back and a shortsword on his hip. He was much better groomed and put together. He actually looked like the professional they’d hired. They approached Alregon with a swagger, and the fat one extended a hand to him.

  “You must be the patron’s man,” he said.

  “That I am,” Alregon responded. “You must be the guides I sent for.”

  The fat man nodded. “Name’s Bish, and this little man here’s Puma. When do we set out?”

  “Quite soon. We’re settling some final affairs in the estate, and then we’ll depart.” He glanced at the thinner man and looked back. “You two came highly recommended. Have you done this sort of job before?”

  “We was military before we took to mercing. We can follow orders, and we know how to protect even the dumbest mark. As long as the pay comes in like the advance did, you got no worries.”

  “Do you know the road well?”

  Bish scratched his head. “Been a while since we went out that way, but we been to Midden after the siege.”

  “You mean Mizzen? Is it much changed?” Alregon asked.

  “No, Midden. How’d you miss hearing about the attack?” Bish spit on the driveway. “Mizzen was a pretty nice place. High walls, fresh goods, friendly folk. Pirates moved in and gave it the new name Midden to match what it’s like now. Real shit hole. Loads different. There’s lots of dirty folk, theft, and whores. They even got one of those exotic Finney whores, but he’s real expensive.”

  Alregon raised a hand and nodded in understanding. “Yes, yes. But is it safe?”

  Bish adjusted his pants. “Oh yeah. Ain’t no murderin’ or nothin’. Worst you’d have to worry about is fingers in your purse. That’s why I keep a fake purse full of broken glass. Nothing like seeing a little bastard start howling and hollering after brushing by you.” He guffawed and touched an uncomfortable Alregon on the arm. “Serves ‘em right, eh?”

  Puma shook his head and moved to examine the cart. “You want us in back?”

  Alregon shifted his attention to Puma. “Is that acceptable? I thought the master and I might right up front with you two in back.”

  Puma nodded. “That works. Gives me a high angle to shoot from, and my partner here can easily roll his fat ass off the back if he needs to fight.”

  Bish turned to face Puma. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly mobile. I don’t need to do any rolling to deploy myself in a fight.”

  Puma climbed onto the back of the cart. “I’m sure,” he said, and he started moving some sacks around to make a perch for himself.

  Bish turned back to Alregon. “Pay the little one no mind. My love of food and drink hasn’t slowed me down any. If anything, it’s made me more resilient.” He smacked his belly and flashed a smile displaying some of the most unhealthy, rotten teeth Alregon had ever seen. “Natural armor, this.”

  The estate door shut and Merrik came hobbling toward the cart, his cane in hand. Asra strode out behind him and moved to the top of the drive. Bish noted her and gave Merrik some suggestive nods as he walked by. Merrik ignored them and continued until he reached the small stepladder leading up to the driver’s bench.

  He climbed up and plopped down in the navigator’s position. As if on cue, Alregon took the driver’s position, and the two mercenaries crawled into the back. Asra chuckled as she saw the fat one struggling to get on board—the slender one had to pull at his belt to get him up there. They traded qui
ps about too much fried cheese and sleeping all day.

  “I’ll wait eagerly for your return,” Asra said and she helped Merrik pull up the stepladder and secure it with a rope. “You should keep a journal so I can read all about the places you see and people you meet. You’ll be just like Senrigal!”

  Merrik grinned. “That does sound appealing. I’ll make some notes and have plenty to tell you when I get back.”

  “I look forward to it.” She pulled his hand down and gave it a light kiss. She either didn’t see the disgusting purple spots on his arm or she didn’t care. When she let his hand go, he ran it gently through her hair. She took a step back and watched the group make their final preparations.

  Merrik turned and checked everything in the cart bed one more time. All of his carefully planned supplies seemed to be in place, including the two strange men they’d recently added. He was glad they still had one of the old six-wheel carts. Five wheels were all the rage now, but the stupid fifth wheel was in the middle of the cargo bed. It sacrificed a lot of cargo space for just a little stability. But people would buy anything trendy and new apparently. He turned forward and gave Alregon the all-clear to move ahead. The cart rolled down the drive as Asra stood waving farewell.

  They headed to the main drag of Ryten and turned toward the southern gate. They got a few queer looks from the city guards. It wasn’t exactly common to see patrons riding around on travel wagons, let alone one packed with so many supplies and two dirty-looking mercenaries propped up in the back. Anyone could tell that something was odd about their expedition, but nobody moved to stop them.

  They exited the south gate and soon hit the river Scarum.

  “Okay,” Merrik said. He pulled a map out of his thin white chiton and unfolded it. “We’ll take the road to Comfort, but that’s when things will get tricky. We’ll need to head nearly straight east and a little north until we hit the coast. That’s a lot of open field, so we’ll need to be precise.”

  “Got a lodestone?” Bish asked, his chin resting on the front guard right between Merrik and Alregon, as if he were a dog. He looked left to right, at the two of them, repeatedly.

  “Well, Mr. Irreverent, I didn’t have one on hand,” Merrik said.

  “Call me Bish,” he said. He stood up in the cart and looked around. “Don’t worry, I can make a shadow thing.”

  “Shadow thing?”

  “Yeah, it’ll show us the angle of the sun, and we just measure it twice to find out which way to go. We should end up going straight east that way.”

  “That doesn’t sound precise,” Merrik said.

  “I’ll just make it real precise-like!” Bish smiled his hideous, discolored smile, brimming with pride.

  Puma closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Merrik turned forward. “Yes, well. Even without any amazing shadow inventions, we should still be able to keep a steady course as long as we don’t have to circumvent any obstacles.” He turned to Alregon. “But if we have to adjust course, favor the north.”

  Alregon nodded and snapped the reins to move the cart forward again. Merrik heard a thud as the fat one fell under the sudden movement, and he grinned. They rode as long as there was daylight. They could just head to Midden and head north from there. That’d be the simpler course, with a proper road to follow, but Merrik wasn’t sure he could trust the rotund merc if they got near that town—too lively a place, with drunks and harlots littering the streets. It was a town for pirates, really, but there were allegedly some honest merchants there. Honest enough to sell pilfered merchandise from destroyed ships to travelers, anyway. It would also add a week or more to their trip to head that far south first.

  “What are we looking for, by the way?” Bish seemed to be getting comfortable plopping his head down between the two again.

  “I don’t believe that information falls under your pay grade.”

  “Hmph, just figured we could help keep an eye out. With all that empty country out that way, might be good having a couple extra pairs of eyes on the lookout.”

  “Trust me,” Merrik said. “When we do end up seeing what we’re looking for, you’ll know.”

  “Sounds neat.” Bish retired to the jostling cargo area and lay down in between a group of food sacks. “Wake me if you need me. I’m going to get my nap on.” Moments later, his hellacious snoring had everyone irritated.

  ***

  It wasn’t until the third day that they hit any sign of trouble. They came to a part of the road with a large rock formation on the right, and a group of disheveled men fanned out in front of them as they approached. There were five of them. To the left stood a man with a crossbow and one with a longsword. To the right was another man with a crossbow and one with a large axe. The best dressed, and armed, of them stood in front of the cart with his palm raised. Alregon brought the cart to a halt, not wanting anyone to be impaled by the crossbowmen.

  “Ugh,” Bish said as he hopped off the back of the cart. “Guess it’s time to earn that paycheck. Let us handle this, old man. We’ll negotiate our way past.” He strutted toward the man in the middle. Alregon looked around to find Puma, but he didn’t see him. Merrik stared coldly at the group as if trying to will them to die where they stood.

  “What’s the holdup?” Bish asked the man in front.

  The man smiled like he’d just heard a joke. “Well, that’s it exactly. It’s a holdup.”

  “Aye, I can see that. For what purpose?”

  The man’s smile fell; he was disappointed that this fat mercenary seemingly had no sense of humor. “For your money and goods. Leave the cart and start walking back to wherever you came from. Oh, and leave your coin purses too.”

  Bish started to laugh, which caused a sharp look from the highwayman. “Now why on Hejira would I do that?”

  The bandit spoke very slowly as if explaining to a dunce. “Because. We’ll. Kill. You.”

  “Oh,” Bish said. “Well then…”

  A gurgling cry for help sounded from the left. Puma was on top of the swordsman, dagger in his throat. He raised his own crossbow and fired a quarrel at the nearest crossbowman and scored a hit right in the man’s forehead. The leader turned his terrified attention back to Bish, who was already rolling his giant sword over his shoulder. The leather strap holding his blade to his back snapped open as he pulled hard on the hilt, and the sword’s full momentum struck the bandit on the head. His whole body seemed to compress downward as the blade cleaved it nearly in half. With a sharp laugh, he turned to the crossbowman on his right. The crossbowman already had a quarrel loaded and aimed. Bish pulled his sword up and walked directly toward him at a leisurely pace, a satisfied smile on his face.

  The crossbowman fired. Bish took the quarrel in his bicep but didn’t seem to notice or care. When he was in range, he spun and swiped diagonally with his blade and cleaved deep into the man’s chest. He turned to engage the axeman next but saw him take a quarrel in his midsection and fall to the ground.

  “For fuck’s sake, Bish,” Puma whined as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and walked to his partner. “You got hit again? Do you even try to avoid it?”

  Bish shrugged. “What for? One little stick won’t bring me down, and it don’t hurt enough to dance around like a fool avoiding it.”

  Puma rolled his eyes. “Well, let’s get back to the cart and I’ll patch it up for you. Again.”

  Bish shook his head. “Loot first!”

  “Oh, right.”

  They went from body to body, retrieving quarrels, rations, coin, and anything else that seemed useful or valuable. When they were done, they dragged the bodies behind the rock formation and loaded themselves back onto the cart.

  “We never discussed looting rights,” Bish said to Merrik and Alregon, who both sat stunned at how effectively the mercenaries had just eliminated the threat. “You want a cut from these? Because normally we keep all the goods from our kills.”

  “No, no,” Alregon said. “We don’t intend to fight,
so it’s all yours.”

  “Great!” He slapped Alregon on the shoulder and sat down in the cart bed. “All right. Do your worst, Puma.”

  “Ugh, I should.” He knelt down next to Bish and took out his small medical kit. There were some thread, a needle, some pliers, a small bottle of undrinkable alcohol, a small bottle of drinkable alcohol, and some materials for building a fire. He used the pliers to remove the arrowhead from Bish’s arm before using the needle and thread to sew the wound closed. He tore a piece of cloth from one of the sacks and tied it around the wound. He looked up to see if Bish was satisfied and noticed that he was asleep. Puma shook his head and returned to the perch that he’d made for himself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “What are you going to do first when we get to Ildia?” Karedess asked. They were nearing the end of the great northern forest, so she was getting excited and talkative. Fierd had to admit he was getting pretty anxious to get to the city too.

  “Wash,” he answered.

  “Yeah, but what else?”

  “Hopefully get some clean work. You said your mom was someone important, right? Something about a directive?”

  “Directorate,” she said. “It’s the people who work out all the laws and listen to the people. The king makes the final decisions, but the Directorate makes things official and actually makes sure the rules get followed.”

  “Are there lots of these Directorate folks?”

  “Not really. I think there’s like a dozen, but there’s lots of normal patrons. They’re pretty important too.”

  “What makes someone a patron?” Fierd asked.

  “They don’t have them at that northern city? From what Mama says, whenever a person does something really good for the city or its people, they can get voted on. If they do a good enough thing, their family earns a spot in the patronage.”

  Fierd scratched at his beard. “What kind of special things do patrons get?”

  “All kinds of stuff. They get to live in the nicest part of the city, they get all kinds of deals and opportunities, and they get to sit in on all the political stuff.”