Book of Kayal: Houses of Light

by S. Nileson

  As of that day Kavis became known not as a mercenary, but as a ranger – it mattered not the manner of his employ.

  “Here!” Kari called. She was hunched and kneeling, examining the paw print of the heavy tiger. When Khatar was at ear’s shot she said, “The beast will be troublesome. He’s a large one.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Qella said.

  “And here I was wondering if you’ll be able to hold yourself from lunging at the outlaw with tooth, claw and battle cry.”

  Qella grimaced at Kari and kneed her softly in the back. The two had grown friendly during their brief stay and the natural animosity between the mercenary and the Silver Stag was all but gone. This was how things should be between us women, Qella though. She then remembered that they were accompanied by a Varangian and quickly composed herself.

  “How close?” Khatar asked of Kari.

  “The tracks are fresh and no attempt to hide them was made. Either we’re expected, or Kavis has no idea we’re coming. Regardless, we should not sneak up on a man with a tiger.”

  “She’s a smart one,” Qella noted, throwing a side glance at Kari.

  “I agree,” Khatar continued, ignoring Qella’s remark.

  “I suggest you stay here and relax while I go in there and drag him out.” Kari stood up and pointed at the forest nearby, where the clear tracks led. After receiving a nod from Khatar, Kari ventured into the woods and disappeared into the thick green.

  Some time passed with no words shared between Khatar and the Silver Stags. They just waited, listening to any sign of alarm. There was none. When Khatar began to suspect something amiss, he saw Kari appear from a distance and gesturing to him. “Found him!” she shouted, waving violently for him to see with her hands extended to the limit over her head. “He wants to see the Varangian alone.”

  Qella awaited Khatar’s orders and commanded her sisters to stand back once the Varangian indicated that he was to oblige. He walked at no rushed pace, boots digging deep into the dry mud and scattering some dust behind him whenever his heavy frame made its mark on the land.

  When he reached Kari, she cleared a path through some large leaves and looked at where Kavis was, directing Khatar with only a single glance. The large Varangian brushed against the leaves, disturbing many small insects and birds, and entered into the overlapping shadows of many old trees.

  “I be damned,” a voice said from the darkness of a small cave. A growl accompanied it. “My sharp eyes have seen much in my day, but never have they fallen on a Varangian before.” The man appeared from the shadow. He had a bow strapped on his back, its string digging deep into his brown leather vest. Kavis looked like a ranger in every way. The colors he wore were those that would blend with nature and all his clothes were made from what he the wilderness had to offer. He wore a hardened leather vest with his toned arms showing and coupled it with a pair of brown leather pants. On his back he wore the fur of a brown bear hugging him, its paws fashioned in a way where they were fastened to the chest of his vest. A steel blade was sheathed by his side, hanging from a black belt, and a dagger was tucked into his fur boots. The quiver hanging from the side opposing his blade with dozens of white feathers popping from it. Belua followed him step by step, a large tiger reaching well beyond Khatar’s waist with fangs the size of Kolian daggers.

  “Do you know why we’re here?” Khatar asked of Kavis. He sensed Kari approaching him and standing one step behind him to his right, ready to counter any sudden move from Kavis or his beast.

  “Aye, this lovely lass here tells me you’re looking for someone who might or might have not passed through here.”

  “Did he?”

  “That depends on what’s in it for me, Varangian.” Kavis placed his hand on Belua, stroking its head and calming the beast down. The tiger showed no sign of contentment or disagreement. It just stared at Khatar with its piercing yellow eyes, its mouth slightly opened to display its dangerous fangs.

  “What do you seek, ranger?”

  “Well I don’t know what you have to offer, so you tell me.”

  “Oboi?”

  “I’ve no need for coin how I live.”

  “Recognition?”

  “To do with what?”

  “A place in Kol?”

  “Blossom’s my home.”

  “I’ve an idea,” Kari whispered into Khatar’s ear. When he leaned down towards her she added, “In these days there’s one thing mercenaries suffer from, those damned Silver Stags.”

  “He’s no mercenary.”

  “Does it hurt to ask?”

  “Will Qella agree to it?” Khatar asked of Kari.

  “The way I see it, boss, it won’t matter much where the Silver Stags stand now. I suspect that by the time we find Archer and deliver him to your Warchief the world will be a very different place. If there’s war then nowhere is safe, if not then the Silver Stags are the sole danger and with the Warchief’s influence they could be made to ‘adjust’ their list of outlaws and renegades.”

  Khatar looked up at Kavis, who attempted to overhear the whispers between the two, and said, “How about getting the Silver Stags to overlook your transgressions?” Success.

  Kavis’ eyes gleamed and his stroking of Belua ceased. “You can do this?”

  Khatar pointed towards the general direction of his Silver Stags companions and said, “Over a dozen of the sisters await me there, all under my command, a Varangian from Kol. They are the only of their order in Parthan lands and I can guarantee that they will pay no heed to what you are to them as long as you aid us. If we succeed in our goal then I will see to it that their disposition would extend to the rest of their order.”

  “Is that right?” Kavis said rhetorically. “And by whose authority would you do such a thing?”

  “By Starkad’s, the Warchief of Kol. He’s a man who even the Emperor dares not cross.”

  Kavis laughed manically, holding his belly dramatically in an effort to overact his response. “Let’s say I believe you. Would you do this just by me pointing you towards the direction of whoever you seek?”

  “No, my terms have changed. I will get the Silver Stags to forget about you if you join us now on our search for Archer and see it to the end.”

  “The gods be damned,” Kavis said. “Belua, it seems that we’ll work with the Varangian, after all.”

  “I have to say, they fooled me,” Kavis said in response to seeing the Silver Stags without their pristine armor. “They look like a bunch of confused peasant women looking forward to a day’s worth of sowing and reaping.”

  “No one sows and reaps on the same day,” Qella retorted.

  “Exactly my point, love.”

  “Qella,” Khatar said, “do you vow to me that no harm will reach Kavis and the beast by your actions or those of your sisters?”

  “I vow so,” she said, showing no signs of concern or coercion. Khatar admired the quality of her soldiering and the control she had on her emotions.

  “Belua, didn’t I tell you that it was going to be a good day?”

  The tiger chuffed in response.

  “I think this calls for a celebration at uncle Senex’s,” Kavis declared, raised his hand and walked towards Blossom.

  Qella looked at Khatar and proceeded only when he had given her approval, leading the rest of her troop to Blossom. Sighing, Kari followed.

  It is a strange day when a Varangian walks with such an odd group, Khatar though as he took his first step back to the inn.

  5

  “So you’re after a man with an inked face and a woman traveling towards Partha, am I right?” Kavis asked between sips of mead. “Damn, it never gets old,” he spoke to himself.

  “Precisely,” Khatar said. He sat on a round table, shared with Kari, Qella and Kavis. The Silver Stags sat on the long table used by them earlier and talked loudly amongst themselves of matters uninteresting to the other four.

  “I can’t say I’ve seen the inked one, the one you
call Archer, but I know that some five days ago two cloaked folks made it through my forest. They didn’t come to Blossom, neither to trade nor to rest, and I doubt that any of the folk took wind of them. They seemed interested in staying hidden.” Kavis looked around and spotted Senex’s daughter, the younger one who blushed whenever he spoke to her, and gestured that he wanted another serving of mead.

  “Do you know where they went?” Qella asked of him, sitting cross-armed and stiff.

  “Love-”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Love,” Kavis emphasized, “if there’s one thing I learnt from my years of travel is that it’s best to keep away from those who want to be scarce. Belua and I have been such folk before and we’ve met such folk before. No matter how you chose to look at it, we’ve done well to stay away.”

  “Do we really need him? We have Kari and she’s proven to be quite the tracker,” Qella asked of Khatar.

  “That remains to be seen by the end of our journey.”

  “Tell me, Varangian,” Kavis asked, taking a piece of honey-cooked meat and handing it to Belua, who lay by his side - the tiger lazily raised its head and swallowed the cooked meat effortlessly – “how come you’re so sure Archer’s going to Partha?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Boss here isn’t too good at expressing himself,” Kari interfered. “You see, we know that he was in Stonerift and headed to Salvation. We also know that he passed by here and that marks a clear intention to head to Partha, from a slightly longer route than usual. Our inked friend is running away from the Emperor’s authority and domain, which leaves two places in which he could find sanctuary.”

  “Partha and Senna,” Qella continued.

  “And one of them is more accessible than the other,” Kari added.

  “I take it if he was at Kol you wouldn’t be here.” Kavis gestured at Khatar. When the young waitress brought him his mead he winked at her thankfully. She blushed and rushed away, nearly tripping on her own foot. “She’s a lovely young lass, this one.”

  “Well, that leaves us just where we were when we first got here,” Qella said annoyingly.

  “That’s not true,” Kavis said while he chewed at some of his honey crisps, sending wet morsels across the table towards Qella. She grimaced in discussed and removed her folded arms from the table, resting them on her lap. “I know where I saw them last and now we have a general direction by which we can start our search.”

  “I agree,” Kari said. “It’s a reasonable plan.”

  “We move to Partha then. When would be best to start?” Khatar asked of Kavis.

  “It’s getting dark now, we won’t lose much if we wait for daylight, unless the gods decide to send us rain.”

  “At dawn then.”

  Chapter 10: To Reveal Deadly Ploy

  ‘Chordus was a corrupt man and became a martyr whose name no longer bears the sins of his life.’ Historical Records of the Parthan School of Knowledge.

  1

  It was a warm night when Khatar and his troop first camped after leaving Blossom. They stayed in a clearing in one of the forests between Blossom and Partha. Kavis made it possible to gain some ground and get closer to Archer, but even if he managed to make the entire journey at twice the pace Archer and Ascilla did, it would have been impossible to reach Archer before he made it to Partha. The possibility of having to rely on his companions weighed heavy on the Varangian.

  The Varangian sat by the fire, one leg tucked beneath him and the other serving as both a bridge for his tucked leg and a support for his hand. He looked at the fire intently, lost in thought.

  “I take it you want me to stay,” Kari said. She approached from behind the trees opposing Khatar with two limp wild hares in hand. “I brought dinner.” One of the Silver Stags rushed towards Kari and offered to prepare the meal, already having a boiling stew of foraged berries, wild vegetables and herbs. Kari eagerly handed over the catch.

  “You have proven your usefulness,” Khatar said. He tapped twice at the ground beside him invitingly. Kari complied, folding both legs beneath her and sitting much like the priests of Pax. The Varangian noticed the way she sat and contemplated about it for the first time. It was how Kari usually sat in the wild when she found nothing to sit on. “Who do you pray to?”

  “Pray?” Kari asked confusingly, grimacing at the strange question before she burst in laughter. “I’m a mercenary. Believing in anything other than coin is not exactly a quality of those in our profession.”

  Khatar hummed and dismissed his interest, pushing all thought of his personal curiosity aside. “Kavis believes that we cannot possibly catch Archer before he reaches Partha.”

  “That’s correct. We’re too late.”

  “I do not believe it would be wise to send the Stags in there either, not as themselves at least.”

  “It would be risky.” Kari squinted at the fires and inhaled deeply, releasing the trapped air a moment later. “No one will expect them to be Silver Stags if they take Kavis with them. While I wouldn’t say he’s famous, but his deeds have not gone unnoticed around these parts and the price on his head has been declared in all major cities. Partha is no exception.”

  “You think they can be trusted?” He spoke with no regard to being heard by the others.

  “What makes you so sure I can be trusted?”

  “Because of what I’m about to offer you, Kari.” It was the first time he made eye contact with her since the conversation had begun. “I can offer you coin, if you wish it, and a home in Kol. The Warchief could use someone as skilled as you.”

  Kari smiled at the Varangian’s flattery spoken in the tone of a common fact. “I haven’t even demonstrated my skills to you yet. How can you be so sure?”

  “You carry yourself with confidence. If we succeed in our quest then I would have my demonstration and you your new home.”

  “I’m not too sure about living in Kol and serving the Warchief, but I’ll take the coin.” She paused for a moment and checked on the Silver Stag she had given her catch to, finding her progress of skinning and disembowelment pleasing, and said, once her eyes returned to Khatar, “As for Kavis and the Silver Stags, I think they both have too much to lose by betraying you. Kavis needs his pardon and the Silver Stags their code. You can rest assured that the Silver Stags will be getting no word from Gallecia so deep into Parthan territory.”

  Khatar hummed, more to himself than to Kari, and remained silent, deciding on how to best reach Archer while not compromising the sensitive political situation between Partha and Kol. “We will go as close to Partha as we can together, perhaps Archer is not intending to Partha. Should the trail lead into the city then I shall leave it to you.”

  “What will you do then?”

  “I have not decided yet,” Khatar said, watching the smoke rise from the fire and disappearing into the sky filled with countless stars. “I have not the faintest idea.”

  2

  A new set of tracks appeared following that of Archer’s. There was a group of two dozen following them, they too were tracking the fugitives, Kavis advised. “The tracks are fresh,” He said. “Belua caught the scent.”

  “Can tigers even do that?” Kari asked of him.

  “Belua’s nose is as keen as any hound’s.”

  “Not a Watcher Hound,” Qella contested. She always tried to keep just a few steps behind the tracker and well ahead of her sisters.

  “What was that, love?”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “So, Kari,” Kavis continued, “as I was explaining, Belua’s keen nose is just as good as any hound’s, and his bite is far more taxing.”

  Qella grunted and remained silent in an attempt to spare herself further humiliation. She had not grown any more accepting of Kavis’ condescending attitude, but she had grown to value the qualities he brought to their mission. Beneath his tough exterior, she guessed, Kavis was a decent man. His bond with Belua confirmed it.

  “
The tracks split here,” Kavis said after leaning down and examining the signs closely. “Perhaps I was wrong about Archer being followed.” He stood up, looked back at Khatar and asked, “Which should we follow?”

  Khatar was caught by surprise at the unexpected question. “Why do you ask?”

  “They’ve been followed for far too long and far too closely to coincidentally take this unusual route. This isn’t exactly a paved road.” He gestured at the wilderness which paralleled to road from Blossom to Partha with some irregularities. The tracks, Khatar knew, were made by someone who sought to evade his followers but did not dedicate much effort to the endeavor.

  “Kari, can you find your way to Archer from here?” Khatar asked, his tone steady and his mind racing.

  “I can follow these tracks, if that’s what you mean,” Kari pointed at the tracks guessed to be Archer’s.

  “Then you take the Silver Stags and follow him. Go into Partha if you must, find him and bring him to Kol. I will find you.” He shifted his attention to Kavis and said, “You and I will follow those and join them later.” He gestured with his eyes at the two-dozen tracks. With but a nod of confirmation from Kari and Qella the two groups parted, each with haste in mind.

  3

  The tracks led to a cave guarded by two men whom Khatar had identified, from their outfits, as Peacekeepers. They stood a lazy watch and engaged in idle talk. “So what will you do after we get paid?” one asked of the other.

  “I’ll go to Senna and buy me one of their house boats,” the other replied, leaning on his halberd. It was strange for a Peacekeeper to use a halberd, for it was a Gallecian weapon especially fashioned for their kind of war. The Peacekeepers were not a fighting force equipped for war, but one equipped for law enforcement, and for their task the halberd was a poor choice for a weapon. That alone made Khatar reluctant to simply walk up to them and start asking questions. He took some time to listen and decide on a course of action, Kavis waiting patiently behind him, bow strung and arrow ready.