by Kris Kramer
Chapter 3 - The Cliffs of Lharsil
Dawn came to the camp, bringing with it a tempered sense of excitement and hope amongst the Wind Riders, both of which had been in short supply the last three weeks. Iago waited anxiously near the south end of the valley, just outside the farthest row of tents with the three men he’d selected to join him. They were all members of his Lander squad, and most importantly for a mission like this, they were all men he could trust. Those who knew the underworld of Tyr had a common saying, ‘The best place to sheathe your dagger is in the back of the man in front of you.’ Unfortunately, after nearly a decade of navigating the back rooms and shady dealings common in that city, Iago could vouch quite well for the validity of that saying.
The youngest of the three Landers, Halgren, called Hal by everyone else, was a former slave rescued by the Wind Riders. Hal wasn't terribly bright, but his hefty build and his eager, rambunctious attitude made him a valuable man in a fight. He stood slightly shorter than the others, with a square face and long, brown hair, and the edges of his mouth seemed to naturally curl up, making him appear to always be smiling. Saalis, another Lander from Iago's crew, waited next to Hal, his steady expression unreadable, as usual. He was roughly Iago’s age, and a jack of all trades, spending his free time as a cook, or helping out the physicians in camp. He carried the marks of a former slave all over his arms and back, though, mostly burns and brands, typically given out as punishment in Anzarin cities. He kept his brown hair so short that it spiked more than hung, and his world-weary brown eyes stared at the ground in front of him.
Jonir was Iago’s favorite, though. A few years his junior, Jonir shared a similar background to Iago, working as a guardsman in Tyr. He’d abandoned that life to join the Wind Riders during a raid some years back, and after being assigned to Iago’s group shortly after his own arrival, Iago had found in Jonir the kind of determination and intelligence that he needed in a second in command. So Jonir became his Lander-Sergeant after only a few raids together and Iago never once regretted that decision. Jonir was Iago’s height, but slightly more fit and several years younger. He wore his dark brown hair just long enough to tie at the back of his neck, and his handsome face and easy smile made him one of the most personable people in camp.
The Landers and their Captain all wore various light tunics and pants for the daytime weather with heavy cloaks for the brisk night winds. Iago had been the first to show up, since he slept so poorly these days that he’d already been awake for some time. The rest had gathered here minutes ago, double checking their supplies and equipment, and chatting with the small group of well-wishers who'd arrived to see them off. Most of them were women who had prepared food or stitched clothes or other items for the group. One of them, a light haired, pretty girl from Otaro named Essa, stayed close to Jonir. Iago hadn’t known the exact nature of their relationship, but he didn’t have to wonder anymore when he saw them together this morning. She’d baked some breads and pastries for Jonir to take with him on the trip, and was quite obvious with her infatuation, even if Jonir seemed embarrassed by it in public.
Galen approached several minutes later, wearing his regular tan clothing and the blue cloak Pilots received upon completion of their training. He hadn’t finished his but Avina presented him with one anyway because of his seat on the Council. A tall, gangly young man followed behind him, with thick, black hair, and wearing similar clothing except for a dark brown cloak. This was Margis, Galen’s Second, a quiet kid, not known for socializing much. In fact, he spent most of his time with the other Pilots, probably training or whatever it was Pilots did when they were out of sight. Both of them looked like children wearing grown up clothes to Iago. They seemed nervous and uncomfortable, out of place amongst the adults. That wasn't fair to them, of course, but Iago needed them to be ready for this journey, and capable of dealing with whatever difficulties might come. At some point along the way, their lives may depend on one of these two making sound, experienced decisions, and he wasn’t sure either could do that yet. He hoped they would prove him wrong.
Avina and Arigin arrived last. Avina chatted briefly with everyone, giving words of encouragement while Arigin just stood at the edge of the gathering, fidgeting with his hands and glaring at everyone. After speaking with Galen, Avina motioned Iago off to the side, away from the others.
“I must ask you," she leaned in close and lowered her voice, "do you think Galen will have any problems in the city?”
Iago shook his head. “I believe your faith in him is well-founded, Pilot. I think he will do fine.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t mean in his duties. I’m sure he can handle that. I worry that he’s Assarin. I haven’t been to the cities since the problems in the West so I don’t know how he may be treated.”
Now Iago understood her concern. Tensions between Assarins and Anzarins in the west were high, and those tensions had started to spread east to the larger Anzarin cities like Tyr, Elbasa and Otaro. Iago had been in Tyr when word reached them about the fall of the Anzarin cities near the Trin Lake, but despite some initial anger at the conquering Assarins, no one in the city seemed to care about it after a while. Anzarins from the steppes and those from the Trin never really considered each other as more than distant cousins at best, and besides, the Assarins seemed content with their new lands and showed no sign of expanding, so most eastern Anzarins left the matter alone. Refugees from the conquered cities, however, would not be so forgiving.
Iago glanced over at Galen, who was busy adjusting his Mergoran Chain for the tenth time this morning, a string necklace that Pilots wore around their neck, under their clothes. The Chain had Mergoran crystals tied up all around it, so Pilots who wore one always had crystals touching their skin, and thus, ready to use.
“I don't think it will be a problem, Pilot. Anzarins in the steppes aren't too concerned about anything that happens outside their walls. He may get some stares, but no one will bother him.”
Avina smiled. “Good. That is good to hear. Now be careful with this group, Iago. I am trusting you to keep them safe.” Iago nodded. He was sure he could do the job, but it was hearing that word again, and it made him uncomfortable. “You’re our best Lander Captain, Iago, you always have been. I know Idaris thought highly of you, and rightly so. I know you can do this.”
“Thank you, Pilot,” Iago said, wondering once again how much Idaris had told her about him. “I won't let you down.”
Avina moved to the center of the gathering and cleared her throat, garnering the attention of everyone present. “Bid these men good luck, fellow Riders. They embark this morning on a dangerous trek to save the future of our people and our mission. With our blessings they will succeed and return to us with what we need to continue on our fight against the Clerics and their wickedness.”
Iago saw the hope and the worry in the faces of the Wind Riders gathered around him. They had suffered greatly over the last several weeks, losing scores of friends or relatives to the destruction caused by the Tyran attack, and those who weren’t dead were either captured or scattered throughout the mountains by now. He knew this group carried a heavy burden on its shoulders and the next two weeks would either save the Wind Riders, or hasten the death knell for these wonderful people. He was surprised to realize that even with all that, he felt calm this morning, almost confident. It felt good to have a mission in front of him he knew he could handle. And he would. No matter what.
“Galen. Iago. We put our faith in you to lead these men.” Iago bowed his head. He saw Galen do the same. Avina stepped forward and stood in front of the two men, putting her hands on Galen’s right shoulder and Iago’s left. “Go now. Our fate rests with you all.”
Iago nodded and he, Galen, Margis, Jonir, Saalis and Hal filed out of the camp to a chorus of waves and well-wishes, heading westward and out of the narrow valley.
Toward the city of their enemies.
