Tales of the Wolf: Book 02 - Enter the Wolf

by A. E. McCullough

  Keeping his hands in plain view, Darnac glided down the red carpet. He absentmindedly noted that it was made of the finest silk and woven in the traditions of the Southern Kingdoms. Stopping several feet short of the raised dais on which Kieran and his bodyguards sat, Darnac studied his counterpart.

  Kieran was a fellow dark elf with jet black hair and a long, waxed handlebar mustache. He wore a set of puffy white silk robes, a blood red turban and sported well manicured hands. Darnac knew the oufit was just part of a well crafted illusion designed to distract those people Kieran had dealings with. It was just one part of the persona of the Sultan. Underneath his robes, Darnac suspected the criminal kingpin wore chainmail and had a poisoned dagger or two at the ready. No one gets to the pinnacle of a criminal organization without getting their hands bloody from time to time. Besides, dark elves are not known for their compassion.

  Darnac made an extravagant bow and said, “Greeting Sultan Kieran, I bear a communiqué from the leaders of the Dark Alliance and a personal message from the Lady Lalith.”

  Kieran leaned forward slightly and grinned in spite of himself. There was just something he liked about being called sultan. “I see you have learned manners since your last visit.”

  Darnac shook his head. “I doubt it, m’lord, but I am under orders to be polite to you.”

  “And do you always follow the orders of your mistress?”

  “To the letter.”

  Kieran nodded in understanding. There were numerous rumors in Avaris concerning the Blademaster.

  Darnac Penumbra was the most accomplished swordsman of the generation. No one who crossed blades with him ever won, including many of his teachers. Many in the Council of Shadows felt that he was destined to become one of the Three, the true power behind the council. It was common knowledge that the Blade, the weaponsmaster of the Three, felt threatened by the fame of the much younger Darnac. He realized early on that if Darnac graduated the Academy and challenged him to a duel, he would lose. So, for his final exam, the Blade set up a quest that he was sure would kill the brash young swordsman. When Darnac returned, it was a bitter-sweet victory. The Blade knew that since Darnac had survived the quest, he’d signed his own death warrant. Darnac wanted to kill him and vowed to issue the dreaded challenge. However, during his quest the deadly dark elf became Lalith’s bond-servant for one-hundred years and she forbade the duel, which bought the Blade a short reprieve.

  Rumor had it that Darnac still sent a reminder to the Blade on the anniversary of his challenge. Every year it was something different but two components were a constant; a bloody body part and a short note counting down the years.

  Kieran thought about all this and more as Darnac stood before him. He knew that there was a large bounty on the Blademaster’s head and he longed to collect it. The question was how. He had no urge to try and die; for if he failed, it would be his head that was lost.

  “What message to you bring, Blademaster?”

  Darnac reached into his belt and grabbed the scroll. His quick movements caused the cyclopean bodyguards to take a slight step forward. When he didn’t pull out a weapon, the one-eyed brutes scowled and stepped back. Darnac tried to hide his grin at their eagerness.

  Kieran accepted the scroll and studied the seal before opening. It was indeed from Lalith, damn the bitch. He knew before he opened it that his days of procrastination on sending troops to the surface were at an end. Realizing he couldn’t put off reading it with the Blademaster watching, Kieran broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.

  ‘Kieran

  I require two units of troops one month before spring. The first unit must not be afraid of sunlight. They are to move along the westward edge of the Wall until they reach the Daggers. They are not to enter the region but meet up with our armies and act to contain anyone fleeing the area. The second unit must be diggers or goblins. I need them to position themselves in the caverns just outside of Darkmoor and wait for my signal. They are not to be on site or make this move until the month before the spring equinox. I will find their leader and give him the final details. I understand your hesitation in sending troops but our agreement, if it became common knowledge, would seriously jeopardize your position as the Sultan of Otrar. Fail in either of these conditions and your recent involvement with the destruction of Ibriam will become known throughout Otrar. Accomplish what I ask and everything will be forgotten.

  Lalith’

  Kieran looked up and locked eyes with Darnac. “Are you aware of what she is asking?”

  The Blademaster nodded.

  “Does she realize how expensive this will be?”

  Again, Darnac nodded.

  “You aren’t going to tell me anything more of her plans are you?”

  Darnac grinned ever so slightly but shook his head.

  “I thought we were better friends than that.”

  “We were never friends,” Darnac said. “Just because we graduated from the same class in the Academy doesn’t mean we were friends. We knew each other by name, period. Don’t hold any illusions about me, I would kill you without hesitation if Lalith ordered your death and you know it.”

  Kieran nodded. He did know that; which was part of his quandary. If he ordered Darnac’s death and the Blademaster survived, then his life was over. Even if the deadly dark elf didn’t kill him out right, Lalith would spread the truth about his involvement in the destruction of Ibriam. It was not a favorable predicament, he found himself in.

  “Are you heading back to your mistress directly?”

  Darnac shook his head. “I have some time yet.”

  Kieran smiled. “That is good to hear. I’m having a banquet for some dignitaries from Avaris tomorrow night; it would be my honor if you attended.”

  Darnac knew that the Sultan had something up his sleeve. He was never this nice. An old saying from his Academy days echoed in his memory; ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ This was different from what many would consider normal but since assassinations were commonplace in the realm of the dark elves, it was good advice to live by and he knew it. Whatever the Sultan was planning, it was safer to be nearby than trying to hide from prying eyes.

  Darnac bowed his head. “No. The honor will be mine.”

  “Tomorrow at the fifth bell then.”

  Kieran stood up and turned away. His two cyclopean bodyguards followed one step behind but kept their one red eye locked on the deadly dark elf until they left the audience chamber. Once Kieran was out of sight of all his subjects, he shed the guise of the Sultan and stomped his way through the lowermost regions of his compound. He had worked long a hard to build his underworld empire. Rising from a simple thief to master thief to criminal mastermind had taken centuries. Now, everything he had built balanced on the edge of a knife.

  Stepping into his study, Kieran glanced at the shadows in the far corner and asked, “What do you think Espen?”

  A small shadow disengaged itself from the darkness and moved over to the the Sultan’s side with the skill of a snake. The flickering of the torches reflected off the black tattoos which covered his bare chest and bald head. Kieran knew that every tattoo covered a scar gained in battle. He made a mental note that there were more tattoos on his front than on his back. Of course, the only clothing the assassin wore was a set of black leather pants and boots while numerous knives were visible hanging from his belt.

  “He seems to move well.” The assassin’s voice was high pitched and nasally, the type that would grate on your nerves if you had a long conversation.

  Kieran just shook his head.

  “Do not underestimate him. The title of Blademaster is not easily won in my homeland. As a matter of fact, there are only three currently alive and Darnac is probably the most deadly of the three.”

  The gnome just shrugged his shoulders. “So, you want me to kill him?”

  “I am not getting involved. I am just acting as an information broker. I happen to know there is a bounty on his head, a rat
her large bounty. If someone was to kill the Blademaster, I would know who and where to collect such a bounty, for a small percentage of course. And if Darnac fails to attend my banquet due to a sudden illness, I won’t be upset.”

  “I’m thinking he might come down with a fatal case of metal poisoning.” The assassin grinned at his own poor joke.

  Kieran smiled politely. “I do not want to know anything about anything.”

  Espen just nodded and slid back into the shadows.

  The Sultan of Otrar felt his good mood returning and sat down at his desk. Picking up his ledger, he began the task of reconciling the numerous invoices which were lying about and tried not to think of all the things that could go wrong.

  Chapter 15

  As the four companions entered the cavern which housed Otrar, Hawkeye stopped.

  He had never seen such a chaotic cluster of buildings in one place. It was as if a band of drunken architects got together and had a contest to see who could design and build the craziest buildings. Some of the structures were of stone, meticulously crafted for strength and purpose. Some were of wood, designed for beauty and form. But most seemed to be slapped together with whatever was around and wherever was handy at the time. There was no rhyme or reason to the layout of the city.

  However, Otrar was brightly lit with torches and lanterns all along the avenues and streets. As a matter of fact, Hawkeye could remove his enchanted goggles and still see where he was going. There were thousands of people moving about their daily business.

  He could tell that gnomes were the most common, followed by goblins, then dark elves. He did notice a smattering of humans in the throng but they were the minority. It was unnerving to the barbarian to think that this whole world was beneath his feet his entire life and he didn’t know it.

  Even though Master Pau couldn’t see the city, he could guess how the warrior felt. “It’s amazing when you realize that there is so much more to the world than just your homeland. It makes you feel kind of small doesn’t it?”

  Hawkeye nodded, before he remembered that the monk wouldn’t be able to see his head move so he answered, “Yes. I always thought I was well-traveled and informed about the lands beyond my home.”

  “And now?”

  “Now? I know I have so much more to learn and teach. My son must have a broader view than that of just my people. His destiny will take him into contact with many cultures, he must be ready.”

  Master Pau nodded. “Yes…more than you know.”

  Hawkeye cast a sideways glance at the monk but was interrupted by Ronin before he could say anything.

  “Master… there are seven ships at dock.”

  Kang followed the young boy’s gaze. “Good eyes there youngen. I count three merchant ships, two runners and two warships. I can’t make out any of the banners from here, so I can’t tell you which cities they are from but several have to belong to the Sultan.”

  Hawkeye looked over at his friend. “Who?”

  “Kieran Nightsinger, thief extraordinaire. He’s the unofficial ruler of Otrar. I would suggest that we get you on a ship out of town before he knows you are here.”

  “Why?”

  “I am sure that Blackfang has contacted Kieran concerning your disappearance into the Subterrus.”

  “Good point. Do you know where to find a ship?”

  Kang nodded. “Yes. There is a certain tavern I know of where most of the ship captains like to hang out between runs.”

  Master Pau raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question. Considering his empty eye sockets, it was almost comical.

  Kang grinned sheepishly. “I worked as a deckhand for two summers on a rum runner.”

  Ronin asked, “What’s a rum runner?”

  Kang pointed at the two smallest ships. They were long and thin compared to the other vessels. “Rum runners get their name from an odd time in Avaris’ past. Many years ago, the dark elves tried to ban alcohol under penalty of death. But the demand for spirits was so great that my people built a fast freighter that could slip through the dark elves’ blockades and drop off the banned spirits. Since rum is our greatest exportation liquor, those ships became known as rum runners and the name stuck even after the ban was lifted.”

  Ronin shook his head. “There is so much to learn.”

  Master Pau grinned. “Yes…learning is just a small part of life. Think of the world as a stage and we are naught but its players with our own entrances and exits. Now is our hour to strut across the stage, giving our best performance. For only the gods know when the curtain will fall and the closing act is thrust upon us.”

  All three of Master Pau’s companions stared at the blind monk. Ronin and Kang were completely confused by the old man’s analogy but not Hawkeye. He grasped the meanings of his words. Even though the Highlanders have no official theater or stage to perform plays like those of the elves or the Southern Kingdoms, the barbarians had their own tradition of acting; usually done during one of their festivals and only to commerate special events in their history. To be chosen to participate was a great honor.

  Hawkeye nodded. “Aye, that is very true. The gods have laid out a path for me to walk but it is still my choice. I can walk it or I can turn aside. It is my choice. I control my destiny.”

  Master Pau grinned. “True, but what if the gods change the stage?” He gestured to the underground cavern that they stood in. “Is that fair? You weren’t trained for this so why are you here?”

  Hawkeye was about to answer when Kang whacked the barbarian on the thigh.

  “Is this how you two talk when I’m not around? You sound like a two copper gypsy at the summer festival.”

  Hawkeye laughed. “You are right my friend, this type of discussion is better suited for sitting around the campfire late at night.”

  “Hrrumph,” came Kang’s response.

  Taking the lead, the gnome scout headed down the path into the city and the rest fell in behind. Both Hawkeye and Ronin stared in wide-eyed wonder as they moved through the marketplace. Hawkeye would’ve thought that they would stick to the less crowded alleyways but Kang had explained that the best way to not be noticed in a city like Otrar was to hide in plain sight. If Blackfang was indeed looking for him in the city, they wouldn’t expect him to travel through the busy marketplace. Of course, Hawkeye wasn’t wearing his normal furs and wolf headdress. They had dressed him in a simple charcoal grey robe very similar to what the two monks wore, except Hawkeye’s robe had a hood which he wore pulled down over his head. To help with the masquerade, they had encased his bow in a thin sheet of bark so it looked more like a staff.

  Even after spending over a month underground, Hawkeye never could figure out what time of the day it was and just followed the lead of his companions. He noticed that every doorway had a small sign on the right side with different symbols on them but since he couldn’t read them, he could only guess that it denoted what type of establishment was behind the door. When they ducked into a small rock-faced building a stone’s throw from the harbor, Hawkeye realized that it was a tavern of some sort but since his people didn’t have anything like this, he was overwhelmed.

  They were greeted with music. Ronin helped Master Pau negotiate the steps which lead down into the cabaret, while Hawkeye paused to take in his surroundings.

  The tavern wasn’t extremely well lit which told him that its clientele preferred anonymity over openness. The music was cheerful and upbeat. There was a bar counter, some free-standing tables and several booths off to the sides in their own alcove. Hawkeye imagined that they were perfect for dishonest dealings. Hawkeye felt sullied just walking into the establishment. The cabaret wasn’t crowded but it was far from being empty. He spied about a dozen dark elves, twenty gnomes, ten or so humans, a smattering of hobgoblins and one large minotaur.

  Realizing that he had drawn attention to himself by standing at the threshold and looking around, Hawkeye leaned heavily on his staff and limped his way down the steps.

  He h
ad just reached the bottom when two hobgoblins near the counter began fighting. They were throwing punches at each other and cursing in their native tongue. Only those nearby actually looked up from their drinks. The band didn’t miss a beat nor did the bartender when he pulled out a weighted club and whacked both hobgoblins on the head. As they fell to the floor unconscious, a large ogre came out of the back and picked them up. He paused long enough for the bartender to rifle through their coin purses and pull out enough to cover their bill. At a signal from the bartender, the ogre proceeded to take them out the back door and dump them on the pier.

  Hawkeye made a mental note of the back exit before moving forward to stand behind Kang.

  The gnome had already begun negotiating passage for him with several of the ship’s captains. Since he didn’t understand gnomish or elvish, Hawkeye was at a loss at what they were discussing. Although he could tell from their body language that negotiations weren’t going well. That was until Kang approached the minotaur.

  Hawkeye guessed that the minotaur stood close to nine feet tall with horns that were at least four feet across. His fur was solid black as was his horns. He was dressed in black leather britches and wore a weapon’s bandolier across his left shoulder. Hawkeye was impressed by the burly man-bull.

  After a few seconds of conversation, the minotaur gestured toward one of the back tables and moved to join its sole occupant.

  Kang looked over his shoulders at his companions and said, “Tok is the first mate on a runner that just might work.”

  Hawkeye just nodded and followed his companions. He was so far outside his comfort zone that he figured it was best if he just kept quiet.

  * * * * *

  Master Pau, Kang and Hawkeye slid into the booth opposite of the flamboyantly dressed female dark elf. She was wearing red leather pants and a white puffy shirt with a black leather girdle that helped show off her ample cleavage. Her snow white hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her well-manicuried hand toyed with the hilt of the silver rapier which lay on the table. Her other hand was hidden under the table and out of sight.