The Secret of Azuron (The Sword Empire Book 1)

by J. R. Kearney

  It was odd for Sam to be disparaging towards his master, though his words were not in anger.

  "You don’t think Jema was right to bring me here?"

  "That’s not for me to say kid, I think he just really wanted to be back for the festival. We were on our way home a couple weeks back before we suddenly had Raminus to deal with, then on top of that there was what happened to your village, which led us to Tripple. I feel like bringing you here was a rushed decision on his part, just like the Yalthume, all so we could get back here in time." Agitation permeated from his response.

  "I don’t wanna be a bother. I would’ve stayed home with my friends and family if I could. I just followed Clancey’s orders, as always."

  "Hey don’t get me wrong kid, I’m glad to have met you, all I’m saying is Jema would have been better off getting the Warrior’s guild to bring you here, they escort people all the time. I just worry Jema’s become a man of too much politics, perhaps he just wanted some sense of danger to remind him of his old life."

  Landau felt very much an outlet for his frustration, for his words were harsh, and far from whispered as they walked through the crowds of citizens.

  "This guild you speak of, I heard Jema utter their name once before. What are they?" Landau changed the subject.

  "It's a place for any aspiring warrior to earn some coin. Most major cities in Heldorn have one, ours was founded only twenty odd years ago. That's it right over there," Sam pointed, while they spoke their prominent guild house elapsed by, situated in the midst of other guild houses, its exterior walls covered with banners brandishing their heroic emblem of two swords upon a kite shield.

  "What's the difference between them and you guys?"

  "I like to think knights are more respected. We have many disciplines to adhere to yet tend to fight more for political reasons, these guys pursue more dangerous tasks, sometimes some lowly ones, whatever pays well I guess. All sanctioned under the Queen of course, they’re no mercenaries, it’s just where we fight for our Queen and country, they fight for their own fortune and glory."

  "Did you ever think about joining them instead?"

  "Fortune and glory is great and all, but something about defending my country over personal gain feels more rewarding. Especially for the Queen, there's not many rulers out there as inspiring as her. You don't know how many jealous soldiers there would be if they knew you had an audience with her, most men only dream of such a meeting."

  "She was beautiful," he recalled fondly. "Though what purpose meeting her served seemed little. They were still none the wiser."

  "Being in the presence of the Queen is a rare honor kid, who cares what the reason is, perhaps less get such a private audience with the wizard, he prefers to live like a recluse in his tower mostly. What's it like up there anyway with all those minions of his crawling about?"

  "They seem friendly enough I suppose. To be honest Vhalen was quiet, but I’m unsure how wizards are supposed to be. He's constantly busy, at least I feel safe in there. Just wish he could find what was wrong with me if anything, I just wanna be back with my friends," he lamented.

  "There’s nothing wrong with you kid, other than you’re still smiling, after all you’ve been through,” Sam ruffled his hair. “C’mon, I’ve got plenty to show you."

  They headed west and approached the courtyard once more, where the citizens were preparing for this evening's party. Banners and flags hung precariously on strings across streets, the markets hummed with patrons buying food for their respected gatherings, while carts poured into warehouses with stock from all over Ruun to bolster their supplies for the days ahead.

  Towards the harbor the sound and smell of the markets flourished the senses, snappers and salmon were hung out to dry and tainted the festival aroma, yet the familiar scent of the sea was enough to bring a grin to Landau's face. Gone were many of the lifeless nobles that paraded the palace, here Landau was reminded of home, as residents chattered with their neighbors and kids played merrily in the street, while many of the men escaped early to the tavern for a drink. Folk from across the land brandished their native clothes and smiles bejewelled every face.

  Among the crowd Landau was distracted by one particular individual.

  "What's that?" he asked Sam abruptly, his finger pointed to a feline creature, only it stood on two legs, and wore garments like a man, despite being covered in fur with a tail lingering behind it.

  "They are El'saar," Sam explained, Landau attempted to pronounce it the same way. "I imagine you've never seen one, their kind is common here."

  "It speaks the common tongue then?" Landau's eyes couldn't stray from its comical physique, conversing casually with the other townsfolk.

  "Of course kid, but they have their own language also. The female El'saar are extremely friendly and loyal people, the males can be a bit intimidating if provoked, but are hard-workers. There are many races within the city; elves, barbarians, dwarves I’ve seen on the odd occasion. El'saar however are not welcome across all of Heldorn, in some provinces they're still used as slaves, their history is tougher than most," his statement spoiled Landau's newfound admiration for them. "Nobody is out of place here, just look around, there's not many places where a variety of races can share smiles with one another. If only the world were the same, hence why this centenary means so much to these people."

  Throughout the day Sam shepherded Landau to every corner of the city, first through the housing district of Seaforth, where Tudor houses flourished, white brick buildings with dark wooden beams angling across its face, with windows poking through rooftops of varying heights. Trees of silver maple sprouted from concrete gardens and complimented every home, and the chirping of birds was a welcome ambience. In Revenheide buildings intruded into narrow streets, forcing the streets to make small detours. Here grass and weeds charged through the pavement whilst trees cracked the stones around it. Tufts of ivy draped long from the walls and occasional roof, surrounded by tall buildings the streets were forever in shadow. Despite being unkempt it was homely in Landau’s eyes, with wooden benches set for the elderly to sit and take rest. In Wattleville the markets were overwhelming. Outside every home rugs were set with vegetables harvested from makeshift garden boxes, alley walls sprouted marquees sheltering wares of food and clothing and home-made liqueurs, while tents, tall and wide, stretched across the eastern wall, and within each one beget trinkets for the more reckless spender. Briefly he witnessed the Stone-mason's quarter and its grand graveyard, whose boundary he could not see. Sheets hooded every window from the midday glare, while clothes hung between buildings and outside doorways. Though it was simply a place of beds and shelter and little beauty, the peasants here shared the cheer of the occasion like any other. The city was endless in comparison to the villages down south and despite some houses exuding more wealth than others, the citizens displayed only gratitude for their chance to dwell here. Anduniel's banners hung from every wall, and proudly so.

  Sam continued to the markets of Bayside, where beyond the exhausted smoke of the blacksmith the aroma of gourmet food and savory treats were too enticing to resist. Here goods were peddled from wagons, and Sam splashed some copper to enjoy a delicious treat, and Landau feasted as much as Sam's pockets would allow. They walked up the Ferra-Broad where trees were like spears, thin with sharp tips that lined the street to the south gate. Here nobles and heroes from distant lands, from vigorous warriors to veteran champions paraded along for onlookers to observe with delight. Landau ate a blueberry muffin while he witnessed a fine warrior heralding from Dagorlith, with a mob of his followers walking behind him in praise, waving his banner. On his horse the heavily armored man acknowledged their cheers, his helmet tucked beneath his arm as the other waved, proud in his arrogance like many before him.

  "What's so special about these people?" Landau didn't understand.

  "If you don't know them it's all in the banner," Sam pointed. "It shows where they hail from and gives people some insight to the kind
of champion they are. The colors, insignia, the dividing lines on the crest, even the materials it's created on all betoken some deeper meaning to what they've achieved, and to the kind of prestige they warrant."

  Another herald soon followed with his banner, again his champion exuded vanity beyond measure, yet the citizens screamed in excitement at a mere glance of their stature.

  "Does Jema have one?" he'd never seen Sam carry one as yet.

  "They're only for tournaments and sometimes in war. Remember, these celebrations are not just a night of food and drink Landau, tournaments are played in the weeks ahead. It's considered a great honor to claim victory, and is entertaining to watch, that’s for sure. People often hear of the great deeds these champions do but can never safely witness such things up close. Tourneys give them the chance to showcase their talents, bring the battle to the people…What's wrong?"

  Sam couldn't surmise why Landau appeared disturbed at the idea.

  "Just the thought of these guys killing each other in front of all these people seems wrong. I couldn't watch it."

  "They don't kill each other Landau, there are rules in place. They're not gladiators." Landau smiled with revived intrigue. "If you’re still here in the coming days I’ll show you one."

  The squire showed him many places, and none were void of a crowd, from the tiltyard to the barracks to the amphitheatre he was ever impressed, and Sam who had only resided here for a few years knew much of its history. The closer it came to sundown however Samson became preoccupied, though Landau was forced to follow him with no option to wander elsewhere. Music began to chime through the housing quarters and people began to dance and clap, for the sun soon plunged past the horizon to officially commence the party.

  All the stars in the sky could not contest with the bright lights that consumed the city of Arwendel. Fires bloomed in many houses, its light and warmth spread wide into the streets, and even the crisp chill of fall left none undeterred. In the Stone-mason's quarter the party spilled from their only tavern to the foot of the graveyard. The Queen provided them free rations of ale to commemorate the night, and those who could ill afford them were delighted in the reprieve of a charitable gesture. Neighbors embraced in song and dance and let their troubles subside, for the rare occasion allowed the usually sombre district to laugh and cheer by the warmth of a bonfire, affable to all around them.

  Further north in Wattleville the citizens sat in the park, removed from their homes to immerse themselves in the glee heard in the reaches of their neighboring communities. The markets bustled even now, beggars and nobles combined to thrive on the assortments others had brought from foreign lands, prices were constantly shouted among a chorus of arms, all vying for the vendors' attention.

  In the rich district, guild houses put on grand banquets for more prestigious company, roars of joy were replaced by sophisticated elation, and nobles exhibited their best behavior. There wasn't a street without a clutter of people, nor an empty seat in any tavern, it was overwhelming for Landau to witness so many people united to toast the momentous day.

  He did his best to keep up with Samson who charged his way through the crowd with purpose, and dragged him in his wake. It was reminiscent of Porthos, to watch nobles mixing with the working class, as he bumped through the many fabrics and odors of the city folk before reaching the courtyard. Here the crowds gathered in droves, and watched the entertainers put on spectacles far beyond a simple jester. A mage from the Imperial City was here, dressed scantly despite the frosty touch of fall, with waving arms her hands gradually sprouted a ball of light, first green then transitioning to an array of colors; she juggled the light between her hands and launched it into the air where it sat high, before bursting into a spectacle of fireworks.

  There were acrobats walking on their hands juggling fruit with their feet, others climbed their comrades like a ladder to somersault off their shoulders to the other. Samson moved him on, when a roaring flame soared into the sky before them like a dragon had expelled it itself. A bald shaman with his face painted in red and orange, wielded a staff with a ravaging flame. He whirled it in a blaze, and soon lingered it over his skin, despite the burn he felt no pain, and his skin refused to scar. The shaman raised the crown of his staff to his mouth, and exhaled to release a fireball into the air, all those who stood close felt it sting their face. Sam wasn't impressed, and continued to pull Landau through the spectators to find his way to the harbor.

  Landau emphatically stopped him when he noticed a familiar figure speak with authority in front of a large crowd to describe his next trick, wearing his long blue cloak and pointed hat, Vhalen with staff in hand gathered bystanders around to witness his next feat.

  "C’mon Landau, we need to get moving," Sam tugged at his arm.

  "I wanna watch Vhalen."

  With a shrug of his shoulders Sam stood reluctantly behind him to watch the wizard's tricks. Vhalen pulled forth a volunteer from the crowd, a plump man who even in the chill of night had a sweat on, well known he appeared for the applause of onlookers encouraged him to approach the wizard, who bore a childish smile between his whiskers.

  "There are many mysteries of magic in our land, though while the power to destroy and the power to heal are highly regarded, Illusion I believe is the greatest of all magic. It allows people to perceive things that aren't really there, make the eyes believe what they want to believe."

  Vhalen pulled out a gold coin before flipping it to his volunteer.

  "Are you happy with this coin?" the wizard asked him, the volunteer nodded with a snicker towards the audience. Vhalen reclaimed the coin in his right hand, caging it in a fist before he shook it profusely above the volunteer's hand. Upon opening it a dozen more coins dropped from his palm, too many for the volunteer to catch at one time.

  "Why be happy with one when you can have many," Vhalen laughed.

  The hearty citizen strained to bend over to gather all the coins, chuffed at his prize.

  "It's quite simple really," iterated Vhalen. "Here, try it for yourself. Close the coins in both of your fists like so, and on the count of three throw them up into the air, as high as you can."

  The volunteer grinned with a restless greed and Vhalen counted back from three. As the countdown exhausted the man hurled his coins clumsily upward, upon opening his palms the coins disintegrated into a puff of golden dust, and showered the man who was more disappointed than amazed.

  "Well it seems you may have squeezed a little too tightly," Vhalen mocked, the crowd roared at the volunteer's expense.

  "Gold is desirable, but I imagine what you crave is to be a robust, handsome man again, much like myself." The crowd chuckled, though Vhalen's considerably older figure was in far better shape than his heavyset volunteer.

  Once more Sam tugged at Landau's jacket, eager for them to move on, though Landau was determined to witness the wizard's trick to its end. Vhalen stood to the left of the man, gripping his staff tightly whose stone on top glimmered somewhat brighter, with his other hand he clenched his draping cloak and lifted it slowly to curtain the body of his volunteer.

  "Hold still," Vhalen muttered, and his cloak soon concealed them both before rapidly he whipped it to his side, only to reveal Vhalen now stood where his companion had. The crowd clapped in disbelief at how quickly they managed to swap places. The volunteer opened his mouth to speak.

  "Good gracious me, how you walk around in this thing is beyond me."

  With astonishment the wizard’s voice projected from the volunteer, the crowd glanced over at Vhalen's figure who stressfully touched his beard and stomach and stared over to recognize himself beside himself, suddenly in a panic.

  "Ha very good," Sam admitted in laughter, finally able to move Landau on who was disoriented at how Vhalen managed to swap bodies. "Don't think too much about what the wizard does kid, as he says his magic is meant to deceive the eyes. Once you get your head around that you start to see the funny side of it."

  Sam directed him to the ha
rbor where the majority of citizens gathered, the squire frantically weaved through the density of the crowd towards a giant bonfire that roared in the center of the large stretch of pavement. Clothes whipped across his face, and he struggled to remain close to Sam, the odor of alcohol was more poignant in the harbor and few elders were without a bottle or tankard. Eventually they stopped, and Samson's face lit up in elation.

  "Wait here for a second okay Landau. Stay right here."

  By the fire Samson joined several other squires, who all shouted with jubilation at his arrival, scuffling his perfectly hanging hair. Amidst the group he heeded a girl in peasant clothes who charged towards him, she plunged into his arms and Sam raised her lips to his own to give her a passionate welcome. She was beautiful Landau thought, in a plain and simple way, her skin was pale yet glowed like moonlight, her hair was short and bobbed with every perky tilt of her head, with large blue glinting eyes that examined Samson thoroughly. In particular, her smile was most pleasant to behold, so wide it stretched that her cheeks were red, as warm as a welcome home, laughing at something Sam muttered in her ear.

  Landau waited for Sam to wave him over for introductions, but he was lost in the constant questions hammered upon him, his last few days had been thrilling compared to the experiences of his cronies, Landau was impressed at how admired Jema's squire actually was. Alas he remained idle from afar, and watched the laughter roar from the group in anticipation of being welcomed into their conversation. Minutes passed, yet Landau felt inclined not to bother them, and waited for his name to be uttered, but time continued to elapse. With a large sigh he turned to observe others around him, daunted by the endless rows of people that flooded the harbor. He was a cat among lions, nobody surrounding him acknowledged his presence, and a fear of desertion compelled him to move toward Sam. He swung about to suddenly acknowledge towering above him was Jema himself, still heavily armored as when they first met, startled how unexpectedly he appeared before him.