by AS Hamilton
Sariah looked impressed by this revelation. 'So who 'convinced' the Thane to join the patrols?'
'The same person who convinced Malithorn that to stay in Sal-Cirus like a hunted rabbit was preposterous and that to enjoy the festival in Denas was not running away, but a well-earned chance to relax.'
Sariah smirked. 'That does not answer my question.'
'I know. Sometimes it is best not to share information. After all, what you do not know cannot be tortured out of you.'
Sariah groaned. 'You sound like Riqu.'
Brynn laughed. 'And yet, it is a truth, is it not?'
'Yes, you and he are probably right. Shall we go, then?' she prompted gruffly.
Brynn gave her a broad grin and gestured grandly for her to go first. Sariah suppressed an exasperated sigh and urged Treya forward.
Day 6 – Afternoon
Mehani Woods
Nathan cursed as he examined the print more closely. When the old tracker had reported that his patrol had been ambushed and a new trail found, Nathan assumed the capture of his quarry was merely a matter of formality. It was an assumption made too soon. The elvan always seemed to be a pace ahead of him.
This elvan, on the white and grey horse, even if he wasn't the prophecised saviour, he'd had some sort of contact with the Saviour; how else did he come by the horse? It was the rarity of the horse that Nathan did not understand. The Prophecy stated it out right. He'd ride a grey and white charger. Dwarven chargers came in a myriad of colours, but barely ever white and grey. So, if this saviour was as great as his prophecy stated, surely he'd possess enough sense not to use the horse described. No, Regen said, when Malithorn had sent to him through an interim mage. He does not necessarily ride the horse all the time, only emerges from the one of their cities upon it. So was tracking the horse pointless, then? Nathan had asked. That would depend on who the current rider was, Regen had told him. Gods-forsaken mages!
Whenever he asked Cohen if they still followed the right trail, the tracker assured him that this mark; was the scuff of a horseshoe, that mark; the big cat that attacked the patrol, and periodically, there was a boot print. The human mage Nathan had brought along was able to determine that the boot prints were definitely owned by an elvan who rode a grey and white horse. Nathan could not ascertain how the mage could identify a person by touching something they had touched, yet he had seen him positively identify people this way before. Despite this confirmation, the mage was not able to establish a link to the elvan. That was unusual.
It irked him to admit it, but he needed an elvan mage. He was loath to trust the task to an elvan because this quarry was either their so-called saviour or would lead them to him. Nathan had hunted down various rebels over his time in the Abbarane military. He knew that when it came to elvan mages, whether they were Abbarane or rebel, they all knew each other. At times, that was useful. The defeat of the elvan at Sal-Cirus caused some serious rifts between elvan families and houses. Take an Abbarane elvan mage with a grudge against a rebel and that rebel's capture was inevitable.
In this case, the focus of the hunt was, as far as elvan mages were concerned, neutral. He had not been around at the time of Keldon's victory. Worse still, he was a child according to The Prophecy. Thus, as much as possible, he avoided using elvan. He was running out of time, though. The question now was; which elvan mage did he commandeer?
Day 6 – Afternoon
Sal-Cirus
'That is indeed a long climb.'
'As you can see, getting to your contact from within the building is the more viable option.' Sariah tried not to sound smug. Brynn's insistence on seeing the side of the building upon which Toormeena's windows opened was not entirely unreasonable, but, as she warned him, even an accomplished climber would have difficulty not being seen. Now that he could see it, mayhap he would finally heed her.
Brynn did not react to the warrior's tone. He was thinking about the kinds of distractions that would make the climb possible. He was also thinking about what Sariah had said earlier about the problem of getting the seventy prisoners of Malithorn's harem out. Of course, no one could easily explain or hide a large group of women. But large groups of soldiers regularly went in and out of those same doors... It could not possibly be as simple as that, he asked himself, could it? Abruptly, he said, 'Wait a moment, please.'
Sariah watched, too surprised to respond, as he crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd.
Several minutes later he seemed to 'appear' from thin air beside her.
'Take me to the temple, please.'
'The temple? We just came from there.'
Brynn grinned. 'Yes, but now I need a closer look.'
Sariah shrugged, and they started to retrace their path to the temple.
Sariah certainly did not look like a warrior now, Brynn thought, as she lead. Sariah was wearing a dark red, ankle-length dress with a high collar, which was commonly worn by those slaves employed to carry out errands by merchants. She had added a worn, black cloak, and her hair was left in an untidy braid. Her fringe hid her face most of the time as she walked with her head down.
Kaydyr, now with muddied feathers concealing his true colours, took up positions at height so he could guide Sariah without always being on her shoulder. When this technique would not work, Sariah explained, she would collect Kaydyr discreetly, slip a bandage over one wing, and then carry him on her forearm close to her chest. If questioned, she was taking him to an animal healer.
Brynn had dyed his hair a tawny-red colour so he did not resemble either of the elvan Nathan was searching for. He, too, had dressed plainly, wearing the dark wine-coloured tunic of his slave-class. The long, wide sleeves concealed his wrist-mounted bow and the other armguard, which had throwing knives concealed in it. He had used fake papers that stated he was owned by Thane Nelson's administration. He told the guards he was buying a new slave and other items required by his master. It was a routine form the guards had seen many times. With the festival markets on; many were doing the same thing. The guards had let him through with barely a glance.
Sariah had several transitory passes, which were used by slave owners when they sent their slaves out of the city on an errand. They were only good for travelling from one place to another, but sufficed in getting her into the city. If she was stopped by a guard at any time, there was a risk they would become suspicious if she was too far away from the object of her errand. If she was found in the north of the city when the pass indicated she was allowed to go south to collect supplies for her owner, the guards might decide to hold her until they verified it. Such passes always had to include this level of detail, and so, once they were past the gate, they travelled to a market where Sariah spoke with a merchant who gave her what was known as an employment card. Merchants used them, and they allowed a slave to roam the city freely under the pretence of doing tasks on her master's behalf.
'Quite a handy contact you have there,' Brynn had commented.
'We saved his daughter from a harem,' the warrior had responded casually, though her expression said she viewed the situation much more seriously. Brynn understood why: many potential harem victims scarred their faces and bodies so they would no longer be targeted. It was an extreme and painful act that no one should feel forced to do to themselves.
As they walked, Brynn found his pace slowed as he tried to take in all the sights and activities around him. 'This resembles none of the descriptions Belon gave me.'
Sariah nodded. 'It has changed significantly since the Abbarane's took control. Riqu says new generations often have little knowledge of their own culture.'
'Yes. My teachers have mentioned many things that are now gone; the theatres, the dances, the competitions between houses... The rituals of coming of age, of greeting the earth or Touching the Moon. My father tells me of gatherings where bards combined song and illusion that sound amazing.'
'I once saw such a bard, not long after Riqu took me under his wing. The songs she sang were mag
nificent. A Falkon-kai journey-walker once spent a whole sennat in camp…' Sariah shook her head in wonder. 'The tales he wove, the way I was able to see the story like I was right there! Riqu said that before the war, such performances were not a rare thing.
'I, too, have not been through the ritual of Capturing the Light, nor Raising up the Sun. My mother's head-dress, which she would have given to me when I reached courting age was lost in the raid that took her life. It was more than just an adornment, each generation of my maternal ancestry was recorded on it, from the time of the founding. It is lost now, together with Sentary's courtship belt with our paternal history,' she added with regret. 'There is no place for such things during a war, though. Malithorn and his like have no appreciation for that part of our history, nor care for what they have robbed from our people,' Sariah pointed out.
'It is not all lost,' Brynn consoled her, putting a lighter tone in his voice, as he looked with interest at the variety of stores. Many had open shopfronts, turning the streets into marketplaces. 'Each house has written records, and these can be used to recover some of what you have lost. There will be a chance to recover. As well as much to learn and keep from other races, too.'
Sariah harrumphed in disagreement.
'What? You think your blades were crafted by elvan hands alone?' Brynn reminded her. 'An elvan may have designed them and imbued them with talent, but it was likely that a dwarven did the hammer work.' He nodded towards a jeweller's store. 'Dwarven crafted many of those rings, and there are some fine designs by the ellermore,' he said, referring to the small-statured elvan-like race that inhabited Sourik, a country in the west. 'Belon has found life-saving herbs and remedies whilst among human healers. She says because they have not the talent to heal, they have learned it the hard way and sometimes their way is better. The elvan teach many of the land and how to cultivate it without disturbing nature's balance. The may-en-ghi gave us our language, or the beginning of it. Not all that is different is bad.'
'Yes, yes, I understand your point. My point was that not all of it is good, either.'
Brynn smiled at the warrior's grumpy tone, choosing instead to marvel at all the things they had to sell here. Every type of fabric, shell or metal was shaped into clothes, shoes, belts, jewellery and even elaborate hair ornaments. Old traditions still endured with even the may-en-ghi still appearing on the odd pendent, charm or belt buckle. Herbs, fish, fruit, and plants were available, too. A jeweller shared space with a fruit market, which was next door to a makeshift corral for horses. The unfortunate animals had to tolerate a pair of butchers as neighbours.
Brynn felt sorry for the horses, herded from one market to next until some someone found them suitable. Often rebels made friends with horses and other creatures of burden. This was through a genuine empathy with animals, but they had learned over the turns that their friendship earned them unexpected loyalty. Many a horse ridden by Abbarane soldiers remembered their kindnesses and warned them of ambushes or told them where they had seen prisoners taken.
Brynn could not overtly do anything for these horses, but he could use his empath talent safely enough. Telling the proprietor his master had need of new horses, he walked amongst them pretending to examine them. As he did, he used the memories he shared with Sershja to allow them to relive Sershja's elation at running free through mountain ranges, the sweet taste of meadow grass, and Brynn's own appreciation of his friend.
A man dressed in embroidered vest and silk shirt stopped and watched him going over them.
'Beautiful, are they not?' Brynn said, as the onlooker walked over.
'Are you a horse man?' the stranger asked.
'For Thane Nelson,' he lied easily. 'I select all his stock,' Brynn boasted, ensuring that this man saw him as a human.
'Really? He trusts you to do that!' the stranger exclaimed.
'If I choose a bad one, it does not bode well for me, thus, he has no need to 'trust' me.'
The man nodded; that made sense. 'So what do you think of the stock here, in Sal-Cirus?'
'This is a surprisingly good find, I am hoping to get permission from the Thane to purchase them all,' Brynn answered blithely.
'What, even that lame one?' came the incredulous response.
'I get those cheap, the Thane allows the slaves to use them for errands. No use wasting a good one on a slave, eh?' he sniggered.
The stranger chuckled his agreement.
'I apologise,' Brynn said, 'I must depart. I have other business to do and a message to get to my lord,' Brynn said gesturing towards the horses. With a brisk bow and a nod to the proprietor, he walked on.
Sariah did not join up with him until they were in another street. 'What was that all about? You would do better to keep a low profile,' she hissed.
Brynn shrugged half in apology, half in dismissal.
They passed a large, open square filled with slaves. Each had a number pinned to their sleeve. Both Brynn and Sariah inhaled deeply to quell their disgust. Again, Brynn used his empath talent to give them a feeling of contentment. It would not last more than a few hours, but at least it would provide some relief from their despair. It was a woeful path down which his people had journeyed, where it was easier to convince a stranger to give horses a home than to treat these people with compassion.
As he carefully navigated himself off the empath planes he felt what he thought was a familiar presence. Actually, it was the construction of that presence's barriers that he found familiar — not many mages could create barriers like these, for only the may-en-ghi taught the technique. Brynn paused, drawing in his concentration. It could not be... No, it was impossible! It could not be who he thought it was for they were posted a long way from Sal-Cirus.
In reconnoitring the mages that were located in Sal-Cirus, Brynn had come across two mages who might be able to create may-en-ghi-like barriers. But he had determined that one, strangely enough, was not using them, and the other would be out of the city by the time he and Sariah arrived. Could they have changed their plans and stayed in the city? Or was this a new, unknown, mage? The only certainty was that he would need to be extra careful.
Suddenly, Sariah's face appeared in front of him, brows furrowed deep with concern.
'...is it trouble?'
He only caught the end of the question, but inferred enough to shake his head. 'At least, I do not believe so. I felt… I thought I felt a familiar spirit, and the discovery caught me by surprise. But I do not think it is who I thought it was. As far as I can tell, they will not be a threat.'
The warrior harrumphed again, muttering under her breath as she turned and led the way.
Once they reached the temple, Brynn left Sariah near the stable where they had lodged their horses. The stable had been more expensive than others, but allowed the horses to stretch their legs in the attached corral for a 'small' fee. Brynn had paid to have the horses left out all night and for their riding gear to be stowed in one of the locked chests along the outside of the stable wall. The stable manager asked no questions, taking the coin with a knowing grin and a greedy light in his eyes.
When Brynn expressed surprise over the price Sariah agreed to pay, considering how good she said she was at haggling, the warrior explained that the fee also covered bribes. The stable paid the bribes to ensure none of the animals or the gear they carried were interfered with. This was exactly why he had agreed to Sariah's suggestion to accompany him, her knowledge of the city was invaluable.
Brynn took his time scouting around the temple, counting guards and noting the distance from the southern gate. As he returned to the warrior, he also noticed that their stable was located a few buildings down from a larger set of stables. He caught Kaydyr's attention as he walked over to join Sariah at a jewellery stall where she had been pretending to browse. As the moved off down the street, Brynn nodded towards the other stable. 'Why did we not use those stables?'
They looked cleaner and much larger, which appealed to Brynn, it was easier to be forgotten by
larger establishments.
Sariah grinned. 'Oh, you definitely needed a guide here.'
He arched one brow at her amusement.
'That is an Abbarane stable, those are all military horses.'
Brynn made an 'ahhing' sound and decided the stalls were very fascinating for several minutes while he recovered from the embarrassment. Of course, it was obvious to him now, all the uniformed men moving about and the insignias on the horse blankets...
Sariah drew him out of his thoughts.
'Now that you have seen the temple, care to explain how it factors into to your plan to reach your 'friend'?'
'Not directly, not yet. You know earlier, when I... lost track of what you were saying.'
'You said you 'felt' someone you knew, but it turned out to be someone else.'
Brynn nodded. 'Well, I was wrong.'
'In what way?' Sariah asked, her frown deepening.
Her expression drew a grin from Brynn. 'Oh, it is not a bad thing. It just turns out that the person I thought it was is who I thought he was, after all. He is just disguising himself from others. Fooled me for a while, the disguise was that good. And I now have an instinct as to why he is here. I think he will be in contact once we have a little distance between ourselves and all this military.'
Sariah gave him a doubtful look. 'This person is a mage, too, I presume?'
Brynn smiled. 'Better than that.'
The warrior could not help smiling in return, despite her bemusement. 'That is a surprising remark, coming from someone who is a mage.'
'Well, technically, he is not without his talents. Yet his composite gifts make him much more valuable than a mage. He is what your father would refer to as an 'expert in extraction'. And I find that having such an expert will fall right in with my plans.'
Day 6 – Late Afternoon
Denas
Colnba leaned on the door as he closed it behind him. If he stayed here, mayhap no more servants could get in to summon him back to Malithorn.
