Ez Ozel: Prologue to Perdition

by Dave Oliver

  “So what kinds of things do people do to earn patronage?”

  “Oh gosh, let me think. One family made a bunch of free libraries so people could learn. Someone else made a new forge so less people in the mines get burned. Another person made a big underground pipe system so we could have bathrooms indoors.”

  Fierd nodded and pretended to understand what she was talking about. He was curious to see that forge though. “You said there’s a king too, right? How did he get that job?”

  Karedess waved her hand flippantly. “He was born into that. The royal family hands down that position.”

  “How did that family get so lucky?”

  “They discovered and grew Ildia. It was a long long time ago, but they came from Ryten with a big group of people to find somewhere new to live. They found a huge mountain by the ocean and thought that was pretty cool, so they made a little town. At some point, someone tried mining the mountain and found a whole bunch of shiny rocks. That’s where our coins came from.”

  Fierd reached into his pouch and pulled out a plat. He flipped it around in his fingers. “So there’s a mountain full of these?”

  “Of course not,” she said, her face contorting. “That’d be silly. There’s big rocks of that metal. They melt it down and make coins. That’s just a plat, but they also make more valuable coins too. The middle one is the ire, which is worth a hundred plats. Then the big one is an ozz, and those are worth ten ire. I’ve only seen a couple of those though.”

  “Never knew all that. Ain’t never seen those other two coins. I just thought these…”

  “Plats.”

  “Right,” he said. “I thought these plats were all the coin there was. I only ever used coins to even out a barter.” He lifted a coin from his purse and turned it in the sun. “That’s all interesting stuff. Thanks for that.”

  “It was fun! Normally I’m the one asking all the questions. Plus it was neat trying to remember all that boring stuff about history.”

  “I thought you liked learning everything.”

  “Well, I do,” she said. “But I’m a ton more interested in stuff I can actually use. Like learning how to shoot that bow, how to ride a horse, and how to sword-fight. Learning how things came to be? Not so cool. Who cares? How can I use that?”

  Fierd nodded with a grunt. “You got a point there. Information without purpose is like a sword without an edge.”

  “Hey, wait,” Karedess said. “What’s that?” Ahead, a building was beginning to take shape in the morning fog. It was a shoddy place, and its roof looked like it might collapse at any moment. “I remember that! The bandits stopped there awhile, and I saw it from the cart. It’s an inn! Can we stop there? I’d love to sleep in a warm bed and have something hot to eat.”

  Fierd smiled. “Does sound nice. Got a few of these plats. Let’s see how much they want for a room.”

  They pulled the cart up to the side of the building and tied the horses to a hitching post. There was a stable out back, but it looked full. That must’ve been where the inn workers put their animals anyway.

  They hopped off the cart, and Fierd grabbed a bag of feed from the back and set it between the two horses. They chowed down peacefully while Fierd and Karedess approached the front door. Fierd gave a few sharp knocks. After a moment, the door clicked and swung open. A large, handsome woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was a ratty, dirty brown, and she wore a heavily stained apron over a tattered shirt and a ripped skirt. She was wiping her hands on her clothes as she looked over the two visitors at her door.

  “Eh? What is it?”

  Fierd cleared his throat and did his best to sound friendly. “Lookin’ for a room. How much coin you think it’d take to put us up for the day and tonight?”

  “Where you two from? You don’t look like you’re a northern girl, little one.” Her eyes narrowed on Karedess. “Weren’t you the one traveling with all those men a week or so back?”

  “I was!” Karedess shouted. “Why didn’t you help me? Those men kidnapped me!”

  “Pah! How would I know?” The woman crossed her arms. “Could’ve been one of their young for all I know. How’d you get away from ‘em?”

  Karedess puffed her chest out and raised her head. “My bodyguard caught up to us and took care of them. He was all like, woosh, and they were all like, ‘Noooo!’”

  “Sounds like quite a tale,” the woman responded, her eyes narrowing on Fierd. “Well, come on in and we’ll talk more.” The woman entered the inn, and the two followed her. The door creaked closed and a pang of unease struck the northman. The woman continued, “We’ll talk more about how this man fucked up our payday.” She let loose a sharp whistle and two men appeared from the room behind her. Another one came from the door on their left, two more entered the room from a door far to the right on the other side of a large group of tables and chairs, and one man came down the stairs from the upper floor.

  The heat came on quickly as they flashed their weapons at him. His hatchets were out in an instant and he leapt at the woman. He tackled her to the uneven wood floor and heard her head slam hard on it. He sliced at both of the men coming at him from the back room. One hatchet made solid contact with the left man’s forehead. The other hatchet met a blocking forearm and cleaved it.

  He stomped down on the woman’s throat as he hacked at the horrified one-armed man a second time. Her gurgling cry ended with an unceremonious crunch, and his second hatchet swing finished the other man.

  It was getting so hot. Fierd let go of his hatchets and flung one throwing dagger toward the two men on the far side of the dining area. The first man took it in the eye and fell backward on top of the second man. Fierd turned and dove at the two men who were now between him and the door. He grabbed their faces in his palms and pushed them to the floor. He lifted their heads and smashed them downward repeatedly, shattering their skulls.

  He could barely stand the heat now. Fierd stood and turned to the last remaining man, who was gaining his footing with the aid of a table. He slowly walked over to the poor bastard. He’d managed to draw his weapon against Fierd, but it wasn’t enough. Fierd caught his wrist in mid swing and snapped it like a twig. As the man started to scream, Fierd grabbed his head with both hands. He squeezed hard until he felt it pop.

  That was enough. He needed to cool down now. It was getting too hot to bear. He walked to the front door and inadvertently ripped it from its hinges to see where Karedess had gone. As he threw the door aside, he saw a horse speeding off with Karedess strapped to the back of the saddle. He invited the heat to stay just a little longer. He ran.

  He knew it was futile to try to chase down a galloping horse. Part of Fierd niggled at him to go back and get one of his horses for the chase. It would’ve taken time to unhitch the yoke and work a cold horse into a gallop, but it was certainly more reasonable than chasing on foot. His body wasn’t in a place to listen either way. The heat flooded into him and blocked out all rational thought.

  Impossibly, he overtook the animal. He ran ahead of the horse a fair distance before skidding to a stop. He made a long divot where his boots pushed up the thick mud, and he dragged his hands on the ground to help slow his momentum. Once he’d come to a stop, his muscles flared painfully and he sprinted back toward the oncoming horse. He leapt high toward the rider. As he passed, he grabbed the man’s throat and brought him to the ground. He clenched hard and pulled, freeing the man’s esophagus into the cool early morning air. The animal slowed to a trot and then stopped completely. Karedess wriggled herself off its backside and ran to Fierd.

  Fierd stood with his palms open, hands at his sides and whispering to himself. “Cool moss. Think about cool moss.” He was heaving hard, and his head tilted upward. He was exuding copious amounts of steam, or possibly smoke, and he could smell something like burning meat. His eyes stung and his skin felt like it was on fire. Karedess reached out to touch him.

  “Back!” Fierd shouted. His voice was completely different from
normal. It was inhumanly loud and rough, like his throat was made of stone. He stood, trying to feel for the falling snowflakes on his face, forgetting they’d long since passed too far south for that. His entire body was pulsing in scalding pain. Breathing became difficult. His muscles were painfully tight and yearned to move on their own. “The Irenic, Rime Lake, the northern crags. Cold. Sweet cold. Feel it.”

  After a few minutes, the steam subsided and his entire body relaxed. He fell to his knees and let out a long shuddering sigh. He turned his head toward Karedess. “Are you all right?”

  ***

  He searched the inn, moving from body to body. He retrieved both of his hatchets and the knife he’d thrown into the man’s eye. It hadn’t killed him, but he was unconscious now. Most likely he’d bleed out or die of infection up here alone. He searched the kitchens and found some welcome items. There were meat and bread aplenty, as well as a good deal of various spices. He took a sack and loaded it up with foodstuffs.

  There wasn’t much else interesting in the house, but he paused on his way out. One of the men whose head had mated forcibly with the floor was carrying a pretty decent shortsword. He picked it up and judged the craftsmanship. The metal itself wasn’t the strongest, but it was set and balanced well enough. He bent over and unbuckled the sheath from the man and took it outside along with the sack. Karedess was sitting on the driver’s bench of the wagon, waiting. Fierd had made her stay out of the house. It was full of things a young girl didn’t need to concern herself with. She’d already seen enough on this trip without witnessing more of the unmitigated violence he was capable of.

  “Got something for ya,” Fierd said with a smile as he approached the wagon.

  Karedess turned and saw him holding out a sheathed sword. “No way!” She leapt down from the cart and ripped the blade out, leaving the sheath in his hands. She started swinging it around with a smile on her face.

  “Whoa, now,” Fierd said. “I’ll teach you to use that, but don’t treat it like a toy. It’s just a tool. Always respect it and your opponent, or one of the two will kill you.”

  “Okay,” she said, bringing the sword back and sliding it into the sheath. “Will you help me put it on?”

  Fierd looked her over. “You’re a bit small yet, so it’s going to drag. You’ll grow out of that, but be careful of it getting caught or making too much noise in the meantime.”

  “Whatever works.”

  Fierd wrapped the leather straps around her twice and set the sheath on her left hip. He pulled it from side to side to make sure it had a little play. He stepped back and admired his work. “It’s no custom fit, but it’ll serve. Try taking it out.” She reached across with her right hand and pulled up. She sword came singing from the sheath and Karedess started at the perfect ringing of metal on metal.

  “Ha!” Fierd said, making a loud clap as well. “Now try sliding it back in.”

  She held it far above and waved it around to line it up with the hole.

  “Try this.” He carefully took hold of the weapon’s blade and moved it right next to the sheath on the outside. “Just find the metal where the sheath’s hole is and touch your blade to it. Then you can slide the sword across it until you feel the opening. That should help you line it up.”

  She gave it a try but still had trouble after the tip passed the end of the sheath. She started over and went slower this time. This time she managed to get it back into the sheath easily. She grinned wide.

  “Keep practicing with it,” Fierd said. “Once you’re comfortable, I’ll show you how to fight with it.”

  She couldn’t keep her hands off the hilt. “Why don’t you use a sword?”

  “Had one. Pretty nice one. Gave it to a girl I liked to defend herself when the Rasend attacked.” Fierd looked down to his side. “She didn’t know how to use it real well though. She was a potter.”

  “And…you were the only survivor right? I’m so sorry.”

  Fierd blinked hard and moved back to the horse. “Happens. North isn’t as safe or hospitable as it used to be.” He packed the sack of supplies into the back of the wagon.

  Karedess looked at him sadly. She opened her mouth to ask him something, but she thought better of it. He didn’t seem to be in much of a sharing mood.

  “You ready to go?” Fierd asked.

  “Yup.” She climbed up and adjusted herself a few times to get comfortable, which was getting impossible after sitting so long on a flat wooden driver’s bench. He climbed on as well and gave the horse a nudge.

  They rode southwest, relieved to leave that inn behind. Fierd glanced over his shoulder at it one last time. He wondered how the whole affair had changed Karedess’s view of him. No matter how much you liked a person, seeing them comfortable in violence changed things.

  ***

  It was late afternoon when they came across another building. Fierd slowed the horses and looked around. This place had quite a few people roaming about and barking at one another. There were logs being hauled in on long carts and entering the main structure.

  “I know this place!” Karedess said. “This is the mill. We came up here once to settle a workers’ strike.”

  “What’s a mill?”

  “Well, this mill takes trees and turns them into things we can use. Mostly lumber for building things like houses and chairs and stuff. But they also make paper for people to write on.”

  “Takes a whole building of people to do that?” Fierd shook his head in disbelief. “Make all that myself when I need it or someone asks with a trade in mind.”

  “This is for a lot more people though. You make lumber and paper for yourself or a couple of others, right? This mill is for all of Ildia. That’s, like, thousands of people.”

  Fierd turned his head to look at her. “Thousands?”

  “Well, I have no idea how many people actually live in Ildia, but that sounds right.”

  She must’ve been exaggerating. Even the Halefort only had a few hundred, and it was cramped with that much. Thousands in one town? Absurd.

  “What’s a strike?” Fierd asked.

  “That’s when workers say they aren’t getting paid enough, so they stop working until they get paid more.”

  “Why don’t they just hire other people to replace them if they stop working?”

  “Sometimes I think they do,” she said. “But a whole mill is a lot of people. Plus they’re pretty skilled I think.”

  “Weird.”

  “What’s so weird?”

  “Well,” Fierd said, “just strange to see so many people squabbling over a few coins. Look at those strong folks. They could build their own homes, hunt their own food, till their own land… Why are they fumbling about for all these other people when they could just live on their own? They clearly have the strength and the skill.”

  Karedess stared a moment. “I don’t know, but money is pretty important. Maybe my mama can explain it better when we get home. Oh! Speaking of which, we should be almost there now. I remember the mill being super close to home.”

  “Do you remember how to get there from here? Or should we ask one of these fellas for directions?”

  “No, no. I remember. We should be near the coast, so we can head straight south from here. Once we’re out of the forest, we should be able to see Ildia, though it will still be far away. That will be across the plains though, which you said would be quick, right?”

  “Yup. It’ll be quick going on flat ground.”

  “Let’s not mess around here then,” she said. “Quick, horse friends. Take us home!”

  Fierd chuckled and gave the horses a nudge forward. He was excited to see the plains beyond the forest. He’d heard it was an expansive area of nothing but grassy fields, but he had a feeling it’d been exaggerated. He couldn’t possibly imagine there being that much land without any trees or hills at all. But he’d find out soon enough, and that had him thrilled.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The road wound alongside the river f
or days before turning northward. The river turned the opposite direction, toward Safe Harbor, so they stopped awhile to fill their various casks and skins. Puma had washed and redressed Bish’s wound until it was past the risk of infection, all while Bish kept hooting and hollering, “Did you see the way that guy just split in two?” As if it had truly been as tidy as all that. Alregon tried his best to ignore him, but it was wearing on his nerves. He’d been a bit shaky since the incident, since he’d never seen someone killed before. It kept replaying in his mind, and hearing Bish yell about it didn’t make it any easier to process. Merrik, however, was entirely unaffected—probably because he slept most of the time.

  Even with the less-than-desirable company and the one bout of violence, this was still a nice change of pace. It’d been too long since Alregon had been able to get out of the city, and the gentle giant of a river had been beautiful and peaceful. It was a shame to part ways with the Scarum, but they’d see its cool rippling waters again on the way back home.

  Merrik awoke late in the morning and vomited over the side of the cart. Though he heaved, not much came out other than water. Alregon brought things to a halt and waited for Merrik to settle.

  “How bad is it?” Alregon asked after what seemed like the final heave.

  Merrik straightened back into his seat and took a few breaths. “It’s bad this time,” he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’ve felt ill for days now, but I wanted to make sure we were too far out to turn around before mentioning it.”

  Alregon looked irritated. “We should not be out here. You’re not fit to make this kind of journey.”

  “Isn’t that the point of the journey, you daft bastard?” Merrik coughed into his sleeve. “There’s no way I’m going back. If you try turning around, I’ll just start walking.”

  “I don’t doubt you would.” He pursed his lips and huffed through his nose. “Fine, we’ll continue. But we’re doubling our pace.” He turned to the horses and urged them forward. He did his best to put the blood he saw on Merrik’s sleeve out of his mind.