It was after descending another rock wall at the base of an ice field that Cero made a grisly discovery. A dark object in the snow had caught his attention. Thinking it a rock, he moved on without giving it another thought. It was only when he was a few dozen paces away that he saw movement. Closer examination nearly made him gag. A man frozen as solid as the surrounding snow sat hugging his knees staring into the distance with hardly a rag on his body. His long hair being tossed about in the building wind had been what had caught Cero’s attention. The unfortunate man’s demise had not been recent, but the perpetually cold dry climate had preserved him in remarkable detail.
A nearby natural cave opened into the rock wall that Cero had climbed down only a minutes past. Leaving the silent watcher to continue his vigil, he made for the cave. The tragic story was told in the supplies scattered about. Only a few items remained and none of them appeared to be enough to maintain life in a blizzard. A thin layer of snow had blown inside, but for the most part, the cave was clear and sheltered. A few sets of small game traps lay along one wall. A bundle of skins lay against the other wall. Oddly enough, clothes lay scatter through the cave as if in his last minutes, the man had shed everything he wore.
Cero realized that the man had been a trapper that had probably been caught in a storm high in the Garoche. There were ashes remaining from a small fire, but he hadn’t seen anything in the way of fuel since finding himself above ground. No doubt the man had frozen to death when his fire had died out. Urake had once mentioned having heard of people discarding their clothes as they froze to death. An odd quirk of nature as she cruelly mocked her intended victims.
It struck Cero that the solution to several of his problems were there before him. He couldn’t have stomached trying to remove clothes from the dead man, but here they were littering the ground. The furs were a little large, but once the dry snow was shaken out, they performed the function of their design. Digging through the bundles in the cave, he was unable to find anything edible. The meat had once been dried and cured but was now so burnt by the constant freezing temperatures that it was little more than leather. Chewing on one piece yielded nothing except a nasty taste and a worsened desire for actual food.
A howling at the cave entrance brought Cero out to see what was happening. The first snowflakes were already swirling to the ground. He remembered that it was supposed to be summer and hoped that the storm would be the milder for the season. When a gust of wind blew the snow in his face, he decided that it was wiser to stay inside the cave out of the wind. Taking one last look at the grisly sentry, he returned to the cave. The shadow of the mountain united with the thick storm clouds to strangle the last of the day’s light. The cave further reduced the light let inside so before much time had elapsed, Cero found himself in darkness. Pulling out the strange stone, he examined it with his fingers in the dark. It didn’t feel cold like the stone that surrounded him. It must have been warmed in his pocket, or so he thought. Feeling his way to the bundle of furs, he broke the twine and buried himself as best he could in them. Sleep came gradually although it was broken periodically by visions of the watcher sitting outside the cave. A name drifted beyond his grasp, a sense of who the man had been. A few of the dreams had him setting traps out in the perpetual snows. A couple glimpses of hands that weren’t his. Wearing the dead man’s clothes didn’t help the feelings of apprehension.
Chapter Three: Manipulation
Urake stood leaning against the cave entrance with his cloak pulled up warmly around his shoulders watching the cold rain fall outside. A thin curtain of water dripped off the cave roof. Water ran in thin rivulets inside and puddled on the floor in the indents packed into the earth. It had started a few hours ago and looked as if it meant to continue falling for the next few hours at least. The weather had interesting effects on the people he could see. Most were appareled in cured skins soaked in oils for waterproofing although the damp seeped through everything regardless. There was no escaping the water unless one went inside the cave, but even then, there were the spots that dripped and a pervasive damp musty smell was everywhere. In truth there was no real escape. Fortunately, the summer months meant that this weather was not the norm.
Urake really had no problem with the rain and did not share the melancholy spirits that seemed to seize the camp since the onset of the rain. He enjoyed the clean smell the air had after the rain had fallen. Watching the pure randomness of the droplets falling in a puddle was mesmerizing. Sheltered as he was from the direct rain, he was warm and dry with nothing to complain about. He had often been in far more miserable circumstances and having on many occasions, been forced to endure the elements with no shelter. Here, even the sentries that were on duty in the rain were able to get a hot bowl of soup after their shifts were finished and dry out by the cooking fires inside the cave.
A natural chimney in one of the chambers opened up on the surface so when faced with darkness and weather as inclement as this, the fires were stoked and the cooks worked around the clock to make anything that required heat. Right now, they were taking care to hide their smoke, but that would change in time. There was sure to be hundreds, if not thousands, of loaves of the hard black bread that seemed immune to time. It tasted the same kind of awful no matter how fresh it was. If eaten with something else, like a soup or a strong cheese, it was bearable. By itself, Urake had seen soldiers elect to skip meals rather than subject themselves to the hard substance. Fortunately, the cooks here understood this fact of life and tried their best to alleviate the suffering. There was sure to be copious quantities of game curing over the fires from Urake’s contributions to the larder.
“You weren’t in our room.” Emeck came up and leaned against the other side of the entrance.
“I suppose not.” Urake answered pensively.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Everything and nothing at the same time, if that makes any sense.” Emeck flicked his eyebrows questioningly before staring out at the rain with a frown.
“I sensed Skeln again.” Urake glanced over with a flicker of irritation when Emeck didn’t continue.
“And?”
“All I could tell was that he was alive and well. He is still somewhere out there, but I'm not sure where.”
“Alive and well. That is the important thing. Have you been able to figure out what the connection between him and Inadar is?” Urake gouged a channel in the dirt with his boot to catch and redirect an errant trickle of water.
“I'm not sure what to think. I’m sure I sensed her when I felt Skeln that night we saved the Princess. I know what I saw through her eyes doesn’t make any sense, but I did see Skeln. His hair was longer than when it was when I saw him in Warton, but I'm sure it was him. Since you woke Inadar up, her mind has been as sealed as Skeln’s. I'm not even sure where she is right now.” Urake pursed his lips as he thought about what Emeck had said. Inadar and Torroth had volunteered to assist in any way that they could. Balinor had set Torroth to work repairing armor while Inadar had been tasked with helping the cooks. She hadn’t been happy about her lot, but it was better than being confined to the cell. They were both rarely out of the cave and only then separately and with an escort.
“She won’t hardly tell me anything about her past and even then, most of the time she is lying. She for sure isn’t from The Forks. That accent is more like from the Northern Braebach. Not sure where exactly.” Urake watched the rain for a few moments before turning back inside the cave.
“You going to get some sleep now?” Emeck had noticed that Urake had not been using his bed hardly at all in the last few days and was starting to get a little worried about the man’s health.
“I'm not tired. I will be though, as soon as I get done dealing with Balinor.”
“What are you going to do?” Emeck had to fall back when the corridor narrowed to single file.
“I am not sure yet. It might be a mistake although it doesn’t matter that much anymore. If you want to help,
just be ready if I should ask for you to provide a little insight.”
“Of course.” Emeck parted company with Urake at a guarded doorway. Urake paused only long enough to stare down the fidgeting guard before brushing past and through the door.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Balinor, as predictable as ever, was outraged by Urake’s unapologized appearance into the room they had taken to calling a council chamber.
“You are having a war council and I thought that I should be present.” Balinor’s eyes bulged at the injustice of Urake’s actions as he pulled a chair out and sat down before folding his hands and looking up expectantly.
“This impertinence will not be tolerated. Guards!” The guard appeared that Urake had only moments before stared down.
“Take this scoundrel to the brig and feed him bread and water for three days. That should put him in his place.” Balinor took on a smug expression that decided Urake on his course of action.
“I would not recommend that course of action, unless of course you enjoy pain. Honestly, I would prefer not to hurt you.” The guard had already been unbalanced by the Asgare’s reputation and stopped uncertainly at Urake’s words.
“You would dare to threaten one of the Queen’s men?” Balinor was again aghast.
“I was threatened with confinement, bread, and water first if you might recall Balinor.” Urake saw that the knight might still be able to go a few more shades of red although he was probably nearing the extent of his chameleon abilities.
“I will remove you from this chamber myself if you don’t leave now.” Balinor placed his hand on his ever present great sword menacingly. Redzyn and the other officers present looked on nervously.
“Bravo…” Urake clapped dramatically. “I always admire a man that is willing to do what he orders his underlings to do. It seems as if he is more honest with himself and I admire honesty.”
“This just goes to show why we shouldn’t make deals with lowlifes. They lose their proper respect. Get out now. This is my last warning.” Balinor loosened his great sword in the sheath as if in preparation. Redzyn gripped his chair in preparation for a rapid escape from the area immediately between the antagonists. Urake pulled three of his knives from under his cloak. Two throwing knives and a fighting dagger with a knuckle guard and laid them on the table along with Ice Heart. The knight and other spectators intently watched the knives as he placed them.
“Respect is earned, not inherited. I respect a man that I can’t kill. Not that I want to kill you, mind you, It would be far more effort than I wish to spend on you. You see, that great sword of yours is long, heavy and cumbersome. In this small room you would be unable to swing it and would be better served by leaving it in its sheath. If we were on a battlefield, it would be a different thing entirely. On a battlefield I could plant this throwing blade through your helm slot without even having to get up. In here, I could simply slide this blade between your plates through your heart and be done with it.” The others in the room remained deathly silent until Balinor broke in with a sneering smirk.
“Words are one thing, but we outnumber you five to one.” Urake chuckled quietly before responding.
“Indeed. That is why I have these three fine blades on display. Without using my sword and with only these three knives, I could kill everyone in the room in the time it would take you to draw. No offence intended, I really didn’t come here to kill anyone and I still wouldn’t even if Balinor were to have a lapse in judgment and attack me.” Urake figured that if he had wanted to, he could eliminate Balinor with one of the throwing blades, then the guard behind him with the fighting knife. The other throwing knife would have been for the cocky looking young major at Redzyn’s right with the shorter sword. Redzyn himself was here for his experience and knowledge. In the Clan Wars he might have been an accomplished fighter, but that was decades ago. The two remaining men on the other side of the table were handicapped by their chairs and would only take a moment or two to eliminate.
“Are you threatening us?” Redzyn spoke up after Urake finished speaking while Balinor glowered.
“No. I have no reason to threaten anyone here today. I always considered threats to be rather pointless. If you really mean to kill someone, why warn them? If it is for chivalry, then I can name a dozen chivalrous knights that no longer draw breath because their honor required them to warn their superior opponent. Arlin Briar Heart is a tale about the thief that put three fletchings in the chest of the brave knight that challenged him. Brave but a fool. One never warns another unless he is a fool and I never warn my opponents. Perhaps intimidate, but never threaten or warn.” Urake met each of the blank stares until someone deigned to respond.
“This meeting is concerning tactics that are best kept secret.” The cocky young major spoke up this time in a conciliatory tone meant to calm the tense emotions in the room.
“All the more reason that I should be here. It seems to me that if you want the fruits of my intelligence network, then I should know what to direct my people to look for.”
“We still haven’t determined that your intelligence network is of any use to us.” Balinor icily responded.
“Oh? Well let me see if I can convince you of the value of my information. You, general Balinor, were in the southern army just over a month and a half ago. Before you protest that this is common knowledge, I can tell you what you had for supper that night. Roast boar with a side of quail and rabbit. There were various trimmings of boiled vegetables that were probably not cooked very evenly. The seasonings were bland to say the least. Now something that I just now put together was your reason for being there. The day after you were there, the southern army stepped up their attacks on the elves. A stroke of genius I think. The common word among the troops was that you argued against ramping up the war effort, but that was just what you said within hearing of the troop, wasn’t it? The elves now consider the southern army a threat and will be stepping up their defense to compensate. Possibly even making an offensive. Perhaps going so far as to massacring the occasional patrol.” Urake paused long enough to take a breath and continue over Balinor’s indignant spluttering.
“Here is the genius part of your plot. The elves will think that Reigns was behind the attacks and will, at the very least, prevent Reigns from moving the southern army up here to deal with you. If it were to become a losing battle for the rebellion, then you could even appeal to the elves for support claiming to have tried de-escalating the war effort in the south and citing a common enemy.” Urake had been carefully watching Balinor’s shocked expressions through his recital and knew that if he wasn’t perfectly correct, his guesses were extremely close to the truth.
“How could you possibly know that?” Balinor had slumped back down into his seat while Urake had been unraveling his careful plan as if it were a child’s plot at stealing candy.
“As for what you ate? I shot the boar, rabbit and quail the day before. I was a member of one of the patrols that was massacred and spent some time with the elves as a result. I doubt very much that they would concede to offer you any assistance, although… they do seem very upset with the actions of the southern army and are likely to make it exceedingly uncomfortable down there. Knowing Reigns as well as I do, he won’t be willing to back down or admit defeat so he will leave the southern army there. Even if it means weakening his offence up here in the north. He still is sore at the unequivocal beating his armies took at the hands of the dragons and with his ego, he won’t back down twice.” Balinor was still sitting in stunned silence so the cocky major decided to break into the discussion.
“At the very least, as a civilian, you should address us respectfully by our titles.” The guard that had been standing nervously behind Urake chose this moment to return to his post on the other side of the door.
“Major, know that I only address you by your title because I am unsure of your name. Your opinion means nothing in this discussion. Colonel Redzyn has earned my respect as an old frien
d who respected me as a person, even when he had no idea who I was.”
“It’s etiquette!” The major was now a shade redder than Balinor who was recovering from his shock.
“Quite simply, etiquette doesn’t require a noble from one of the major houses or a knight to recognize and address those with lower ranks than themselves with the honorary titles. If I were to follow etiquette, then I would only have to use your family name in a formal setting.” The major being addressed drew closer to losing his temper while Redzyn leaned back with his fingers interlocked behind his head with a half-smile as he watched. Urake could tell that the old man was following the conversation rather well and had guessed the possible destination.
“The members of this council are all members of houses whose interests align with the Queen’s. You have no obligation and could easily defect and betray our plans to Reigns.” Balinor finally returned to the conversation.
“Frankly I am hurt. For one, Reigns tried to have me killed. I opposed him before he tried that little stunt, but it did make up my mind. The other is that no house’s interests align with Em’risi’s more than mine.”
“Your house? Tell us, what house do you claim ennobles you?” Balinor raised an eyebrow quizzically with the smirk of one who could recite the genealogies of almost all the noble families. All that is, except for one.
“I am Uraken, head of House Safrym, son of Ermor.” Balinor’s stormy expression grew black with the name of the last house to be defeated in the Clan Wars.
Chronicles of Den'dra: A land on Fire Page 4
