The Tomni'Tai Scroll (Book 1)

by Sam Ferguson

  Kelden glanced at the open door and then back to Yeoj. “Alright, how do you suggest we do this?”

  “You go in the front door and make your way to the bar. Order yourself something fruity, I’ll take care of the rest.” Yeoj clapped Kelden’s shoulder and trotted across the street, slipping into the alley on the tavern’s left side.

  Kelden grit his teeth for a moment trying to guess what redeeming qualities Yeoj might have before shaking it off and heading for the door. A large, burly man knocked into Kelden on the way out and started to shout something, but Kelden just pushed him on his way and entered the tavern.

  A thick cloud of smoke hung in the room, along with the smell of cheap ale and a hint of vomit and sweat. Kelden wrinkled his nose as he scanned the room. Several tables were occupied with various gambling games. Some played cards, some played dice, and others threw bones. Almost everyone was drunk, and those who weren’t were well on their way by the looks of things.

  Kelden resisted his urge to break a man’s arm after the drunkard slapped the barmaid’s behind, but he knew he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself. He bellied up to the bar and leaned on his left elbow.

  “Here you go,” the barkeep said as he poured some fresh ale and sloshed it down in front of Kelden.

  Kelden shook his head. “I didn’t order that,” he said.

  The barkeep shrugged, “There ain’t nothing else to order.”

  “Fair enough,” Kelden said as he laid a pair of copper coins on the bar and took the mug in hand. The first sip was so bitter he choked on it and quickly put the mug back on the bar. As he rubbed his tongue along the roof of his mouth to wipe away the taste he caught sight of Yeoj entering from a back door. He quietly pulled a chair up next to a man in a green tunic and whispered into his ear. The man’s mouth dropped open and he turned to regard Yeoj.

  Kelden glanced around, monitoring the room for any suspicious characters, but it didn’t look as though anyone cared about Yeoj. Kelden felt a tap on his back and turned to see the barkeep.

  “It’s three coppers, son, not two,” he said.

  Kelden arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “How about you just keep the ale and the two coppers?”

  “Nothing doing,” the barkeep replied.

  “Why not? I’m willing to bet you just pour it into someone else’s mug and charge them for it anyway.”

  The barkeep swept up the mug with a grimace painted across his face. “I wouldn’t do any such thing!” he exclaimed as he pointed his nose to the ceiling and stormed off.

  Kelden shook his head and watched out of the corner of his eye as the barkeep opened a small keg and poured the ale back into it. “As I thought,” Kelden muttered.

  “I told you to order something fruity,” Yeoj said as he sidled up next to Kelden at the bar. “The ale here tastes like rat piss.”

  “I think it is rat piss,” Kelden corrected.

  Yeoj smiled wide and nodded. “Probably,” he agreed. “Let’s go, I got the name.”

  Once back in the street Kelden grabbed Yeoj’s arm. “Who was that?”

  “His name is Blacktooth Pete. He helps a few shady characters find warehouses for smuggled goods.”

  “And who are we after?” Kelden said. “I don’t imagine the queen would create a special unit just to find a few smugglers or tax evaders.”

  Yeoj shrugged and handed the ledger to Kelden. “Actually that’s exactly who we are after.” Yeoj looked over his shoulder before continuing. “When you wrapped up the case with Theodorus, it uncovered something else as well.”

  “Go on,” Kelden said.

  “It’s a long story, but basically Theodorus was hooked up with a crime organization that smuggles people. Oh they deal with the usual stolen goods as well, but they make their real money stealing and selling women.”

  Kelden narrowed his eyes on Yeoj. “How do you know?”

  Yeoj grinned and slapped Kelden on the shoulder. “I was a mid-level enforcer for Theodorus.”

  Kelden’s muscles tensed and his hand reflexively went for his sword.

  “Whoa, hold on, I didn’t have anything to do with the assassination plot,” Yeoj blurted.

  “Can you prove that?” Kelden inquired. His tone was stone cold.

  “You have it all wrong,” Yeoj said. “I was just hired muscle. My job was to steal secrets and keep Theodorus safe. That’s it. I left him when I found out about the assassination plot. Plain and simple.”

  “How am I supposed to believe that?”

  Yeoj grinned. “The week before you took Theodorus down you caught a big break in your case. You were rifling through Hermann Walsher’s office at the docks. You thought he was connected to the assassination plot, and you were right, but you weren’t expecting the letter in the desk drawer were you?”

  Kelden narrowed his eyes and contemplated whether to listen or draw his sword. “This better be good, Yeoj.”

  “I put the letter there, Kelden. I had caught on to your investigation a few days before you went into his office. Like I said, I was hired for muscle and to acquire secrets. So, when my informants alerted me to your activities I told Theodorus. He always wanted to be appraised of Merchant Guard investigations in Kobhir, I assumed he had been in a few things, but you have to believe me when I say I had no idea about the assassination plot. Theodorus wanted me to silence Hermann and you if necessary.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Yeoj shrugged. “Normally Theodorus was never bothered by investigations, even those that interfered with his criminal associates. Your investigation was different. It completely threw Theodorus into a panic. So I figured I should dig a bit deeper myself before I went through with what he wanted. I discovered that Hermann was smuggling weapons and moving up to try to work with slaves. I mean, I don’t care about a few swords being shipped to the borders, but I draw the line at smuggling people.”

  “So you plant the letter, and then offer to help find the criminal ring in charge of human trafficking in Kobhir?” Kelden asked. “That seems pretty thin to me.”

  “Thin or not, that’s the truth.” Yeoj folded his arms and turned stone-faced. “The letter was in the back left of the front desk drawer, turned face down, with the bottom left corner dog-eared. The desk drawer was locked on the front, with a funny golden lion head that you had to twist in order to reveal the key hole.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Kelden said. He eased his grip on the sword.

  “I ain’t clean as you, but I am here for the right reasons. Besides, my connections are what make me a valuable asset to your team.”

  Kelden thought for a few moments before finally nodding his head. “You said Blacktooth Pete gave you the name?”

  Yeoj nodded with a hint of a grin.

  “Let’s go,” Kelden said.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Talon took a drink from a canteen and wiped the corners of his mouth on his green, silk sleeve. The sun was just beginning to peek over the large gate complex at Hart’s Bridge, the singular crossing point for the Dauga River. The cool early-morning air kept Talon alert as he urged the pair of horses onward to the gatehouse. He could see the border gates coming closer as his horse kept a steady pace, pulling the wagon steadily along the desert road. Talon looked at the mile-wide river and smiled. Soon he would be inside the Kingdom of Zinferth and his plan would be set in motion. All he had to do was meet with his contact in Rasselin, just over a day’s ride beyond Hart’s Bridge.

  Talon pulled the travel charter from the lockbox under the bench and checked it again as the horses trudged on. He had all but memorized the contents, but he liked to triple check things. “I am Gib Marston,” Talon said to himself as he read from the charter. “Headed to Kobhir with a payload of silks and spices, with a stopover in Rasselin for two days to conduct trade and restock provisions before traveling on.” Talon cleared his throat and made his voice more nasal before repeating the name several times. “I’m Gib Marston.” He altered his voice and mad
e it slightly higher pitched. “Hallo, I’m Gib Marston.” He smiled to himself and placed the charter back in the lockbox. It was good fortune Gib had been dining at the Lonely Man Inn when Talon had called on Raimus. Good fortune indeed.

  Despite recent events, part of him would miss Raimus. He had worked with him for a long time, too long perhaps. Before they had fallen out of favor with each other they had almost anything they could ever want. Raimus had the strategy and grand plans, while Talon had the brawn and stealth. Perhaps the Tomni’Tai Scroll was too tempting for any man to share, or perhaps Raimus truly did think it impossible to acquire. No matter. Talon would have the Tomni’Tai Scroll. He didn’t need Raimus now. Talon took another drink from the canteen and washed away his thoughts with fresh water.

  Talon set the canteen next to him on the bench and eyed the looming gatehouse. Four towers stood sixty feet high on the western side of Hart’s Bridge. Four walls connected the towers, forming a keep not unlike a castle. The courtyard in the middle was closed off by two portcullises that allowed the guards to stop travelers inside the courtyard for inspections and questioning. Though he couldn’t see it from his vantage point, Talon knew that inside the courtyard was a guardhouse, complete with bunks for several guards as well as two or three cells where suspicious individuals could be detained. He knew the gatehouse on the eastern bank would be identical, with a long, wide stone bridge connecting the two gatehouses over the river.

  Talon surveyed the portcullis and frowned. It was down. The bridge was sealed off.

  “What could have caused this?” Talon asked himself. He knew that Zinferth and Shausmat had been hostile to each other ever since the Mage Wars ended, but that usually did not extend to sealing off the trade routes. Despite the frequent, minor skirmishes merchants were still allowed to travel freely between the two kingdoms so long as they had the proper charters. This was done more out of necessity than any sort of diplomatic gesture, however. Resources were scarce enough that if some sort of trade was not allowed, the entire realm would soon erupt in total war. The trade allowed for some semblance of peace.

  Talon grimaced. This may have been the first time in fifty years the bridge was closed, but he would not allow that to stop his plan. This unexpected challenge intrigued the cold assassin. Several different plans of attack flooded his mind, and soon he was smiling again. Talon decided that perhaps this turn of events could be used in his favor.

  He reached behind him and loaded two heavy-crossbows. He was careful to angle the handles up toward him, preparing them to be grabbed quickly. Then he straightened back up in the wagon and urged his horse onward.

  A pair of guards raised the outer portcullis and walked toward him. Talon scanned the area and didn’t see anyone manning the towers above. He kept the horses steady, with both hands on the reins. The first Shausmatian guard raised his arm to halt the wagon as Talon approached.

  “I am sorry, but the bridge is closed,” the guard informed Talon.

  “I have a charter which allows me to pass,” Talon said. He pulled the travel charter out from the lockbox and opened it for the guard.

  The second guard stepped forward, shaking his head. “All charters are forfeit for now. You must wait until the gates are reopened. Zinferth has ordered the gates to be closed to prevent a dangerous criminal from fleeing into our borders. I can’t open the gates until I receive a signal from the Zinferth guards.”

  “I see,” Talon hissed. He thought it ironic that Zinferth was fearful of a criminal’s escape, at the same time that he was trying to get in.

  “We can change your charter to allow you passage back to Valiv, with trading permission of course,” the first guard said.

  Talon nodded and put a concerned expression on his face and addressed the two guards, “When I arrive in Valiv I could request more soldiers to be sent here, it looks like it is just the two of you.”

  “No need kind sir. We have sent our other comrades just a few hours ago,” the guard said with a wave of his hand. “Surely, you must have seen the two of them?”

  “No, I didn’t, but I was coming from a different direction,” Talon replied, taking care to keep the tone of concern in his voice.

  “In any case, no need to worry about us. We are capable of handling ourselves. The two of us are more than a match for any criminal Zinferth might spew out,” the second guard said with a chuckle.

  “Very well,” Talon relented. “Perhaps I can at least give you some of my ale. A pair of fine soldiers like yourselves ought to have some sort of reward for your hard work.”

  “Aye, that would be appreciated,” the first guard said. The second guard nodded in agreement and they started to approach the wagon.

  “Good, I have something special for you right here,” Talon said as he turned around and grabbed the two crossbows. He spun back around and fired at the unsuspecting guards. The first guard caught the shaft through his eye-socket and the second was struck through the throat. Talon then dropped the crossbows, leapt from the wagon and drew his sword in a dramatic display of grace and skill. He brought the blade down through the second guard’s neck, spraying blood across the sand. Talon looked around, just to make sure there were no other guards nearby. Surely, had there been any others, they would have sounded an alarm by now. He sheathed his sword and climbed back into the wagon.

  He then reloaded the crossbows and set them back behind the bench. Talon glanced once more at the dead guards and urged the horses forward into the courtyard. Once inside he halted the wagon and searched the guardhouse. It was empty. He grabbed a small purse of silver coins and then went out to the inner portcullis.

  He slid the iron dowel into place and started turning the windlass. Talon leaned forward, putting all of his weight into it. The steel groaned and whined against his every footstep. The rusty cogs clanked and popped as heavy steel chains wrapped around them, straining at the weight. Talon’s muscles tensed as he forced the windlass to turn. Lifting the portcullis was designed as a three-man job, but that didn’t stop the assassin from doing it himself.

  Once the gate was open Talon ran over to check the nearby stable and found an extra horse. He tied the horse to the back of the wagon, and saddled it. Afterward, he grabbed a pair of saddlebags and deposited his food and water inside. He also hooked his crossbows to the saddle horn.

  He spent the next half-hour loading the back of the wagon with hay and small pieces of wood that he took from the stables. When he was satisfied he slowly walked the horses and wagon out onto the bridge. He walked, pulling the two lead horses by the reins for the first half-mile of the bridge and then he stopped. He went to the back of the wagon and untied the horse. He used the horse’s lead to tie him to a large lamppost on the side of the bridge and then he patted the horse on the backside.

  Talon pulled a kerosene lamp from the back of the wagon and poured its contents all over the hay and wood he had stacked inside. He moved quickly to untie his horse and climb on top of the black steed. He smiled and pulled out a match. “This is going to be fun.” He slowly urged his horse up to the front of the wagon just beside the pair of harnessed horses. He put the match in his left hand and drew his sword with his right. Talon looked up at the large wall at the end of the bridge and spat. “Off with you!” Talon yelled at the horse as he slapped it across the behind with his sword. A line of red appeared on the horse’s rump and it took off franticly. Talon struck the match and tossed it into the back of the wagon as it sped past.

  Flames roared up as the kerosene caught fire and spread quickly over the hay. The horses drawing the wagon increased their gait as the heat licked their backsides. Talon smiled and spurred his horse on after the wagon. He needed to stay close. Dense, black smoke billowed up from the wagon as the fire burned through the hay. Talon ducked low, using the smoke to shield his presence.

  *****

  “What in the four hells of Hammenfein is that?” Rinder shouted.

  “It looks like a wagon… on fire,” Hogef replied bla
nkly.

  “I know that, mule-face, but what do we do about it?” Rinder threw down the playing cards and stood up to look over the parapets of the tower.

  “Maybe we should open the gate,” Hogef suggested.

  “But we ain’t supposed to do that, ain’t you heard? There is a criminal on the loose,” Rinder shot back.

  “But those horses are gonna get burned up if we don’t do something. The smoke is so thick I can’t even see the bridge behind the wagon!”

  “What about our orders?” Rinder retorted. “How do I explain to the cap’n that I opened the gate to help some horses?”

  “I dunno, Rinder, but the criminal is supposed to be in Zinferth, not Shausmat,” Hogef pointed out.

  “What’s yer point?”

  “Well, these horses are coming from Shausmat, so us opening this gate won’t enable the criminal to get through. Besides, what if the Shausmatian guards on the other side of the bridge need these horses back. They are probably their horses, ya know.”

  “Mush,” Rinder said. “Alright, shout to Reddak to open the gate, but if the cap’n gets mad I’m saying it was your idea!”

  Hogef ran to the other side of the tower and whistled to the courtyard below. Four guards looked up from their physical training and gave him their full attention.

  “Open the gate, we got a runaway wagon coming in, and it’s on fire!”

  The four guards looked back at each other, but none of them moved toward the portcullis. Hogef turned to Rinder and Shrugged. Rinder huffed and ran over beside Hogef.

  “Ah, do it you slimy rats, don’t just stand there!” Rinder groused over the edge.

  This time the men sprang into action. They ran to the windlass and raised the gate as fast as they could.

  “There, now go down and help them with the fire,” Rinder barked. “But don’t use up all of our water!”