by Gav Thorpe
"As a debt guardian you have access to sources of news that are currently beyond my men: the chieftain's council and their households; captains of the militia; armourers and such."
"Oh, you want me to use my contacts?" said Anglhan, grinning broadly. "Of course I can do that! In fact, I was hoping that was what you were going to ask me to do. You see, I think I can do more than just bring you some news. I know several merchants in this area. That rope you were talking about? I'm sure I could get you fifty casts of the stuff for a good price within three days."
He turned his attention on the chieftains.
"And weapons? Armour? I know just the man who could sell us what we want."
"What sort of weapons?" asked Barias.
"Proper ones," said Anglhan, crouching down in front of the sitting chieftains. "Javelins, knives, scimitars, arrowheads, spear tips. And proper armour too. Bronze breastplates, helms with cheek guards, light mail shirts. The sort of thing those militia boys in Magilnada will be wearing."
"Such things would be very useful," said Lubrianati, looking up at Aroisius. "Our boys could match that militia for sure with that sort of kit."
"Well, if you tell me who your contact is, I can send a delegation," said Aroisius. He raised a warning finger. "If you think I am prepared to let you just go off on your own, you must think the spirits shit me out of the sky yesterday."
"On my own?" Anglhan feigned surprise. "I wouldn't know where to begin judging the quality of weapons. I'm more of a barley and wood man, myself. No, I was going to take Barias here with me. And other than a few men with essential ship skills, I was going to let you pick my crew. If any of them think I am up to no good, they can stick a knife in my gut."
Aroisius' face betrayed his distrust.
"Why not simply give me the information you have, and I will broker the trade."
Anglhan shrugged apologetically.
"Because that knowledge is the only thing I have left that stops you from killing me. We will have to learn to trust each other, and I am sure we will. Until then, I think we can agree that mutual interest will keep us both honest. As a sign of my support for you, I will even purchase the weapons with my own money, and when I return you can pay me for half of them."
Aroisius's mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he sought some fresh argument to Anglhan's proposal.
"That seems good, boss," said Barias. "I'll make sure he doesn't pull a fast one."
"We need those weapons," added Lubrianati. "Quality gear would make all the difference in a close fight."
The rebel leader sagged and looked at Anglhan.
"All right. We will organise this trade mission on the terms you have laid out. If you betray me, I will make it my life's work to hunt you down and stake you out for the crows to peck out your eyes and guts. Am I clear?"
Anglhan performed a gracious bow.
"I only wish to see your cause succeed, Lord Aroisius the Free."
II
"You're tying a line, not wrestling a whore!" Furlthia bellowed.
He ran down the deck and snatched the rope from the hands of a man struggling with one of the sail cables. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he showed the rebel how to properly secure the line through the starboard grommets and returned to his watchful position on the aft deck.
"Sorry," said Anglhan, joining the first mate from where he had been loitering at the aft rail. "Aroisius wouldn't let me keep more than ten men."
"Bunch of idiots," muttered Furlthia. He glanced over his shoulder. "At least he let us keep some decent steersmen."
The landship steadily shook with the clatter and rumbles from the cranks below, trundling along at a steady pace. It had been slow-going at first as Aroisius' men had been unaccustomed to the slow but methodical rhythm maintained by a good turnsman. The journey had been made all the longer by a diversion that took them further coldwards from Magilnada than would normally have been the case; Anglhan had been adamant that they keep clear of the city until they were ready to enter.
"We're going to Carlangh, aren't we?" said Furlthia. Anglhan nodded. "You're going to do business with Meaghran! I told you we shouldn't have anything to do with that dogfucker."
"There's no need to get personal," said the captain. "You really shouldn't pay heed to rumours."
"Rumours?" laughed Furlthia. "My cousin was there, he swears it by the spirits. Meaghran fucked a dog for a bet when he was drunk."
"He could have fucked a dozen dogs, he still has what we need," replied Anglhan.
"I still think this is madness," said Furlthia, keeping his voice quiet. He looked around the ship for Barias. The chieftain sat at the forward hatch, chatting with some of his men. "I can't believe you actually volunteered us for this nonsense. You're dragging us deeper into the shit, you realise that?"
"We were in the shit already, friend," said Anglhan, his voice also low. "We just have to keep paddling for the moment."
"And I suppose you have a scheme for getting us out of it later?"
"I think 'scheme' would be an exaggeration. I'm playing for time. At the moment this can end one of two ways. Either Aroisius's attack succeeds and he kills us because he doesn't need us anymore; or, the attack fails and we're hunted down and killed as rebels."
"Thanks for the encouraging news."
Anglhan gripped Furlthia's arm lightly, but kept his gaze ahead, looking at the crew.
"I have to make sure Aroisius doesn't attack before winter. His current plan is half-arsed and doomed to failure."
"So? Just let him fail, and we'll take our chances. The longer we're mixed up in this, the harder it's going to be to get out. Why supply him with weapons? We'll be flayed and our guts ripped out as soon as we get caught."
"Weapons are a means for bargaining," explained Anglhan. "You've seen how poorly equipped that 'army' is. They have numbers, but little else. Aroisius has his chiefs convinced that he can deliver what they want. When I return with a hold full of spears and shields, they'll start to realise that he can't give them shit compared to me."
Furlthia was horrified. He fought to keep his voice down, his next words coming out in a strangled squeak.
"You want to take control?"
Anglhan's grip on Furlthia's arm tightened painfully.
"I want to be in the position that I could take over if I need to. I've got no need of a ragtag army, but being in charge is better than not being in charge, which is where we are at the moment."
Furlthia pulled his arm away and shook his head.
"I don't think you've thought this through. You've got to convince the dogfucker to sell you some of his weapons. And if you manage that, the rebels will get them and they'll be more ready than ever to launch their attack. You're right when you say you don't have a plan."
Anglhan looked at his first mate with disappointment.
"I never said I didn't have a plan," the captain said, tapping the side of his nose. "Let's just make sure we survive until the winter. You never know what might come up."
III
The rattle and thud of chains and manacles hitting the deck sounded across the landship. Anglhan sighed deeply and tilted his head back, letting the light rain patter onto his face. Having regained his composure, he looked at the group of surly men in front of him. Behind them, the dawn sun was just lighting the pale roofs of Carlangh.
"You're meant to be debtors," he said, slowly and purposefully. "You all look too well-fed as it is. If anyone comes aboard and sees that you're not shackled, we'll be found out for sure." He turned to Barias, who stood beside him, a grin splitting his bearded face.
"He's right, lads," rumbled the chieftain. "It'll be just for a few days."
"I swore I'd never wear one of these again!" said one of the men, holding up the ankle bindings. "Why don't you put it on?"
"I've got to go with the captain, see?" Barias replied with a shrug. "Make sure everything goes down proper."
With more grumbling and muted protests, t
he rebels filed belowdecks. The click of locks continued for some time before Furlthia reappeared. He handed the bunch of keys to Barias.
"Like we agreed," said the mate, with a sideways glance at his captain. "You can set them free anytime you like."
Barias took the keys and stuffed them into a pouch at his belt with a nod.
"All right," he said. "Let's get moving."
Furlthia bellowed a few commands down the hatch and the landship slowly got underway. The rising sun revealed the plains of Salphoria; an expanse of grasslands stretching from the mountains to coldwards all the way to the distant horizon. Herds of cattle roamed the grassland, watched over by groups of men with long spears and bows, with small boys running around the beasts with thin rods.
Ahead Carlangh rose out of the grass, on the gentle slopes of a broad hill. The river Briensis meandered hotwards down the mountains, watering the plains, before turning duskwards just before it reached the hill of Carlangh. Around the town a wide swathe of grass had been cleared in generations past, replaced by rows of cereal. It was harvest time and large numbers of women were already working in the fields, reaping the crop and piling it onto the back of carts drawn by laughing bands of children. A small procession was already making its way towards the town and the landship joined the back of the harvest parade.
The outer town consisted of a few dozen roundhouses built from mud bricks around wooden frames. It was little different from any other Salphorian farming town, save for one feature; at the brow of the hill stood a wooden fort. Its wall of sharpened logs, carried some distance from the forests in the foothills to coldwards, followed the contours of the hill in a rough circle, broken at even intervals by six towers. It covered an area far larger than the group of buildings outside its wall, which had spread out of the protective enclosure in past years because the growing population could no longer be contained.
This was the most dawnward extent of Salphoria proper. Though the king had an historical claim to the Free Country, he had signed an agreement early in his reign with the king of Askhor to grant Magilnada and its territories a neutral status. To all intents, Carlangh guarded the border of Salphoria. This had attracted families to make new homes here, marrying into the Carlanghians or simply bringing everything they had to the town. The expected boom in trade from Carlangh's new status never came, leaving the people scratching an existence out of the grassy plains while trade continued to go dawnwards through Magilnada, never coming within a day's travel of the old fort.
Rather than pass through the town, the crop wagons circled around the hill, following a winding track into the fort on the far side. Anglhan ordered the landship to do the same. As they approached, the captain saw a large number of armed men gathering on the rampart behind the sharpened logs of the wall. There were some nervous whispers from those rebels still on deck.
"Relax," Anglhan told them. He winked at Barias. "We're just here for a bit of trading. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Get the water butts out of the hold," said Furlthia. "We might as well fill up from the river while the captain does his business."
In this way the majority of the rebels were kept busy while the landship entered the Carlangh fort. A group of warriors waited in the square just inside the gate. They wore brightly striped woollen trousers and padded jerkins sewn with rings of bronze for protection, and pointed helms popular amongst the Salphorian tribes, decorated with crests of boar hair. All were armed with long spears and bronze-edged bucklers. They were headed by a broad-shouldered chieftain marked out by the bearskin cloak he wore.
"Probably fucked the bear too," Furlthia whispered out of the side of his mouth.
Fighting back a laugh, Anglhan raised a hand in greeting to Meaghran.
"Hello, friend! The spirits' blessings upon you!" he called out, but received nothing save a blank stare in return. The captain looked at Barias and Furlthia. "Wait here until I signal for you."
Anglhan clambered over the side and lowered himself to the ground as the landship came to a creaking halt. He hurried across the packed dirt of the square, palm still raised. Reluctantly, Meaghran raised his palm in return.
"You're the last person I expected to see out here," the commander said gruffly, before remembering his manners. "The spirits' blessings on you too."
Anglhan looked around at the fortified town, noting the patched canvas roofs on the granary stores, the frayed hems on the tunics of the guards and the sun-whitened wood of the buildings.
"Prospering as ever, I see," said Anglhan.
"Very funny," said Meaghran. "I suppose you're going to tell me that you've got a proposal I can't afford to ignore."
"The spirits themselves must have brought you my thoughts in the night, Commander. The very words I was thinking."
"All right," Meaghran said with a sigh. He gestured with his head for Anglhan to follow. "Come on; let's go to my rooms and discuss it."
The captain turned and waved for Furlthia and Barias.
"Who are they?" Meaghran asked as the pair shimmied down the ropes hanging down the landship's hull.
"My first mate and my storemaster," Anglhan replied quickly. Carlangh's commander eyed Barias with suspicion but said nothing.
They followed Meaghran across the square. He led them into a low building under the rampart of the wall, still swathed in shadow. Inside were two sparsely furnished rooms. In the first were a few guards who sat on the floor, eating from bowls and chatting. Meaghran ignored them and carried on through to the next room. The floor was covered with scattered straw, which to Meaghran's credit was fresh. He gestured to some low wooden stools and the four of them sat down.
"You came from dawnwards," said Meaghran. "Just been to Magilnada, yes?"
"I have," said Anglhan.
"Any news?"
"Nothing remarkable. The usual stuff. Prices are up, trade is down."
Meaghran nodded with little enthusiasm.
"Same here. The town's bigger than ever, the harvests better than ever, but you try getting a half-decent price… Someone's making money somewhere, but the spirits take me if I can work out who it is."
"I'm avoiding grain at the moment," Anglhan said. "Like you say, it's a bad market."
Meaghran stretched out his long legs and folded his arms.
"If it's not grain you're after, why are you here?"
Anglhan coughed twice and spat to one side.
"Sorry, my throat's a little dry."
"I see," Meaghran said with a smile. "That's how it is?"
He bellowed out of the door for someone to fetch beer and cups. A soldier returned shortly carrying a tray of jugs and mugs.
"Don't you have a slave for that sort of thing?" asked Barias. Anglhan's heart skipped a beat but he kept a smile on his face.
"Had to sell them all," confessed Meaghran as he poured the amber-coloured beer. "Too many families now to have folk standing idle while we feed extra mouths."
Anglhan raised his mug in toast before Barias could say anything else.
"With the blessings of the spirits, I think my coming here may solve your problems," he announced. "Well, some of them."
They all drank from their mugs, signalling that business could start in earnest.
"Weapons," Anglhan said, seeing no reason to delay. Meaghran's eyebrows rose in surprise. Anglhan plunged on. "I wasn't being entirely honest when I said there was no news from Magilnada. Rumour has it that rebels have been gathering in the mountains."
Barias shifted next to Anglhan, but he ignored the chieftain and continued.
"Speculation, there's nothing like it for good business. I would guess that you've got a few things in your armoury doing nothing but getting in the way. I could help you clear some space."
"You want to buy weapons from me? Who are you going to sell them to? I'm sure as the sky is blue that Gerlhan can equip his troops just fine."
"You're right, my friend. But the good citizens of Magilnada, they're not all that confident in thei
r militia. And the freeholders in the farms outside the walls, well, they are getting very nervous."
"They're not really mine to sell," said Meaghran, without much conviction. "They were given to Carlangh by the king, to defend his lands."
"You're not selling them for yourself," said Anglhan, his voice as slick as oil. "You'll just be holding the money until you find someone to take it to Carantathi."
Meaghran looked at Anglhan for a long time and shook his head.
"No, it's too dangerous. You wouldn't pay what I would ask for, to cover the risk."
"I am happy to negotiate."
