The Merchant and the Menace

by Daniel F McHugh

  “I saw you falling behind?” questioned Kael.

  “Although the leaders of this group choose to leave issues of security to unseen forces, I desire a more tangible feel for the situation. Let them believe that I can’t keep up. I will cover our rear,” smiled Granu.

  Kael heard a chuckle from just ahead and realized that Teeg slid backward in the group and rode just ahead of Kael.

  “Our spy master is quite efficient at his job, don’t you think, young earl?” asked Granu.

  “Ah, yes, I guess he is,” nodded Kael. “Please, don’t give me a title. I’m sure I’ll never get used to it.”

  “Responsibility is the most difficult of all the tasks Avra puts before us, Master Kael,” said Granu. “How we respond to our Creator’s challenges determines who we are. I exercised no choice in being born to the house of Grannak. However, how I respond to this challenge is what my Lord will judge. You too are called upon to face your life, not to hide from it. How will you respond?”

  Before Kael was able to answer, the big man slowed and allowed the group to distance from him once more. Kael looked up to notice Teeg moving forward to his space beside Eidyn. The boy rode on left with his thoughts.

  The hours passed as the sun hit its apex and slid toward the horizon. Fatigue set in as the riders spent long hours holding themselves in their saddles. They crested a small ridgeline and Kael saw travelers ahead of them moving north. The travelers were on foot and in no particular formation. As Kael came closer to the group he saw the distinctive clothing of farmers and herdsmen. Kael was nearly on top of the group when he saw Teeg steal a glance over his shoulder to the south. Kael followed the Elf’s gaze back down the road. Granu was nowhere to be found.

  “Our large friend knows well the prejudices of these country folk,” stated Teeg.

  The travelers stepped from the road to let the riders slowly pass. Manfir reined in when the black stallion stood amongst them. The men couldn’t possibly recognize the prince, but his bearing and outfit told them all they needed to know.

  “Good day to you, men of Trimble. Wherefore are you bound?” asked Manfir.

  A burly, balding man in herdsmen garb stepped forward and bowed quickly to Manfir.

  “We’re bound for the capital, my lord,” said the herdsmen. “And you?”

  “We’re bound for the capital as well,” said Manfir. “Aren’t you Nyven the cattleman?”

  The broad shouldered man smiled and his eyes narrowed as he studied Manfir.

  “Yes, I am,” said Nyven. “Have we met, my lord? Surely I’d remember such a fine gentleman as yourself.”

  “I normally conduct our business,” came the reply from Ader.

  Nyven stepped forward and inspected the old man.

  “Ho! If it isn’t wily, old Jasper. How fare you?” asked Nyven glancing back to Manfir. “And by gum tis Rin. I didn’t recognize you outside your tinker’s garb. Times must be good for you, by the look of the mounts you ride. They must be worth a king’s ransom!”

  “They are, my friend. They are. You have always possessed a keen eye for animal flesh. How go your herds in the fields around Trimble?” answered Ader.

  “Quite well. I added fifteen head to my count this season. It forced a good deal of work on me. I was prepared for it, but now comes this business,” said the cattleman as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the north.

  “Are the militia of Trimble called north?” asked Manfir.

  “Yes.” replied Nyven. “I sent a runner to the king to explain my situation. Every year the Guard commandeers more and more of my stock. I don’t mind supporting the troops, but how can I produce if all of my men are called up? Who’ll tend the herds?”

  “Macin called the whole militia forward?” asked Teeg.

  Nyven hesitated and inspected Teeg. The cattleman noted the Elf’s mount, clothing and confident stare. He nodded his head and proceeded.

  “Yes indeed, Lord Elf. My runner returned and informed me two thirds of the men should march north. Not only are my herds poorly tended, but Trimble is poorly defended even if she is in the heart of the country,” said Nyven. “I left good men behind, but it worries me.”

  “Why didn’t you stay?” mumbled Kael.

  “What’s that laddie?” asked Nyven.

  Kael turned red and glanced about.

  “I said, why didn’t you stay? Your herds are obviously important and must be tended,” said Kael. “Who better to care for them than their owner?”

  “The king, in his infinite wisdom, demanded two-thirds of my men. No less,“ frowned Nyven. “A man doesn’t send another to face danger in his stead. I wouldn’t send these fine boys in harms way unless I was willing to go there myself.”

  Kael turned a brighter red and stared at the ground. He needed to learn a lot about soldiering and honor. Prince Eidyn looked to Manfir after the disparaging remark concerning King Macin. The prince’s countenance remained stony.

  “I might ask if you’re called as well, good man Rin, but the company you keep leads me to think otherwise,” said Nyven waving a hand toward the Elves and the two young men.

  “I was called, in a manner of speaking, Nyven my friend,” smiled Manfir. “I accompany these honored representatives from the Elven people in hopes that King Macin will accept their aid in these troubled times. I must also attend to duties of my own, for the sad truth is, even the aid of the Elves may not save my father’s kingdom in its hour of need. All able bodied men, prince or pauper must arm themselves.”

  “That’s for certain,” rambled Nyven looking to Teeg and Eidyn. “The support of the Grey Elves is a blessing in these times. The stories we hear from the North concerning the trouble in your father’s king.....”

  The big man stopped and swung his head back toward Manfir. The Zodrian prince turned the black stallion and headed up the road.

  “His father’s what?” asked Nyven in confusion.

  Ader sighed and a knowing look passed between him and Teeg.

  “Come, Tarader,” said the old man as the huge gray turned and followed Manfir’s stallion.

  “Tarader?” mumbled Nyven as his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

  Teeg slid down from his mount and with a slight bow approached Nyven and his men.

  “Good day, gentlemen. I am Lord Teeg, emissary of his majesty King Leinor of Luxlor ....” began the Grey Elf Lord.

  Kael turned to Flair and the pair chuckled as they turned their horses and passed by the stunned cattlemen. As Kael proceeded north, he listened to Teeg’s fading and formal voice.

  “... Prince Manfir just gave you a delicate bit of information, and one that you should keep to yourselves. His whereabouts and that of Lord Ader, and I assure you Lord Ader is real, are a tightly held secret. Now, I’m quite certain of the loyalties of every man here. Jilk, you and Trawney lived in the Trimble area for years. You perform admirably as both herdsmen and militiamen. ..”

  “Do you think they’ll talk?” Flair asked Kael.

  “...because it’s my job to know these things. I might tell you what you ate for breakfast if I desired to...”

  “Would you, if someone you never met in your life knew that much about you?” laughed Kael.

  “... refer to me in my unofficial title as the Master of Spies.....”

  The boys laughed again and rode on.

  The group resumed their steady march northward. Shortly, Teeg rejoined them. Ader reined in beside the Elf and the pair talked quietly. Teeg showed no signs of concern over the revelations made to the herdsmen. Ader appeared satisfied. As Ader moved to rejoin Manfir at the head of the group, Teeg turned and winked at Kael.

  “I’m a master of human nature as well. Those men are all of impeccable character. They never miss work or shirk their duties. They’re true to their wives and serve their Creator in words and deeds. They’re as trustworthy as men can be. No, we’ll experience no trouble from the men of Trimble,” said Teeg.

  “How do you know so much abo
ut everybody and what they do?” asked Kael.

  “It’s my job,” answered Teeg. “If it were my job to bake bread you would taste the most exquisite bread ever to cross your lips. If it were to build houses, they would stand for a thousand years. I perform at my highest level in all I attempt, in order to honor my Creator and his graciousness.”

  “What if you’re uncertain what your job is?” asked Kael.

  “Then my job is to listen for his calling and open my heart and mind to the possibilities,” said Teeg. “Travel through life experiencing the variety of paths he sets down before you. You’ll know when the right one presents itself. To serve your Creator and your fellow man is true happiness.”

  Kael gazed down the road. Lost in thought once more. Wondering what his calling might be.

  Several leagues down the road a large black figure stood atop a small hill. The group approached. Kael’s sharp eyes immediately determined who stood there.

  “Granu, son of Grannak awaits us,” confirmed Eidyn.

  Manfir gazed at the figure ahead then scanned the horizon in both directions. Kael and Flair sensed the prince’s uneasiness and scanned the horizon as well. Ader put a hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, my boy,” said Ader. “I swore to you that he is true, and so he is.”

  The group reined in near the giant.

  “I believed we left you in the broken lands north of Kelky,” said Manfir.

  The large, hooded figure stood motionless and silent.

  “Hail Granu, son of Grannak,” called Teeg. “Your decision to avoid contact with the militia was wise. I doubt they would take kindly to a Keltaran strolling through their lands.”

  Granu threw back his hood and exposed his shaved scalp to the fading sun.

  “Hrafnu taught,‘You find trouble or let it try to find you’,” stated Granu. ”I prefer the latter over the former.”

  Manfir grunted and frowned at the name. He moved his stallion down the road.

  “We may continue down this route into the village of Quay, or make camp in a small grove to the west of the road just ahead,” said Granu. “The former may provide the comfort of a small inn or tavern, but undoubtedly draw the attention of more than a handful of militiamen. The latter will provide all the shelter we need and keep prying eyes from our business.”

  Manfir spun his stallion to face the giant.

  “You want me to follow the orders of a Keltaran on matters of security, here in the open lands?” snapped Manfir.

  “No,” said Granu mildly. “I want you to hear the advice of a man wise to the prejudices and fears of the world. It’s to our advantage to move through the town in the early hours before it’s fully awake. Fewer of the inhabitants will lay eyes upon us and fewer tongues will wag. We’re not here to impress the country folk with our credentials.”

  “What? No one is here to impress anyone! I spent seventeen years in the role of a mute, mindless...”

  “Prince Granu makes sense, even though he uses little tact in making his point,” interrupted Ader frowning at Granu. “Prince Manfir deserves neither your accusations nor your jibes. None save I witnessed his sacrifice over these many years.”

  “Forgive me Ader, favored of Avra,” said Granu bowing lightly.

  “And you,” Ader sighed turning to Manfir. “I can’t spare energy separating the two of you. I never misled you, so hear me now. Granu is pledged to us and his intentions are honorable. The man offers a sensible suggestion but you are so misguided by hatred, you refuse to see its merit. Leave your enmity here on this road. We can’t afford to let it separate us when it matters most.”

  Manfir remained tense for a moment and gnawed his lower lip. Finally, his shoulders drooped and he bowed his head toward Ader. He glanced in the Keltaran’s direction but Granu already forged ahead and the group followed him off the road into the grasslands. They moved in a northeasterly direction for some time and finally came to a small grove of pine trees growing near the edge of a low bluff. Amidst the pines lay a clearing. The soil was soft, sandy and covered with pine needles. Fifty yards from the grove, a creak tumbled over the bluff and cascaded into a shallow pool. The group reined in and dismounted.

  Flair set to work. He gathered in the Elves’ mounts along with his own and Kael's chestnut. He led the horses to the pond and tethered them near food and water. Granu entered the grove and began splitting wood with a hatchet he retrieved from Flair’s tool sack. Kael noticed Manfir stop and appraise the campsite.

  “The cliff will protect us from the rear, and the tree line makes excellent cover for the Elves and their bows if need be,” muttered Manfir.

  “Cover from whom?” asked Kael.

  Manfir came out of his deep concentration.

  “What is that Kael ... uh, oh yes,” said Manfir. “I’m simply assessing our choice of campsite.”

  “Why?” asked Kael. “We’re still in Zodra.”

  “You’ll learn, Kael. Always set up camp as if you’ll slumber in the heart of the enemy’s territory. It’s a good habit and one that may save your life one day. Not all of the servants of Chaos stand across the border with blades poised to strike. Some stand in the halls of this kingdom and will shove a knife in your back as they cower behind you for protection.

  “This site has merit. The cliff and trees keep us hidden and the turbulent air and pine boughs will diffuse the smoke from our fires. The mounts will find food and water, yet be nearby for protection. We’re far enough from the road so that anyone foolish enough to use it at night will not stumble upon us. It’s a good place to hide.”

  “My people were good at hiding before they were forced to become good at fighting,” came a voice from inside the grove.

  Granu stepped from behind the pine trees and approached Kael and Manfir.

  “Come into the clearing. It’s almost dark. I’ve sent the Elves in search of fresh meat. Their eyes do not fail them in the darkness as ours do,” said the giant.

  Manfir clenched his teeth and followed Kael into the grove. Flair was still working on the horses.

  “Flair,” called Manfir over his shoulder. “Only a quick rubdown tonight. You need your rest as well as the horses.”

  “Yes, sir!” replied the boy.

  They ate in silence, each man lost in his thoughts. Kael marveled at the diversity of their group. What did he get himself into and where would it end? He hoped its conclusion would come when he was delivered to his father, but a voice inside him knew better.

  Would he be allowed to join the Guard as well? Would he be called to fight in the North against roving packs of Ulrog? Would he be sent to the frozen slopes of the Zorim Mountains to battle ax wielding Keltaran raiders? He surmised that this is what Teeg called opening yourself up to the possibilities.

  CHAPTER 16: WAVES IN THE POOL

  Sulgor entered the dark chamber slowly. His last meeting with Izgra left him reluctant to face the Half-Dead with less than positive news. The black hooded and heavily robed warlock stood near an arching window that looked west toward the Mirozert Mountains. Izgra’s gaze never left the sun as the glowing ball of flame dipped toward the snow capped peaks.

  “What news do you report?” demanded the Half-Dead.

  Sulgor kept low.

  “Methra the Worm and Quirg returned to the nothingness of Chaos,” replied Sulgor.

  “As I stated,” said Izgra.

  Sulgor quickly moved on.

  “However, the Worm accomplished his mission,” growled the beast. “Methra eliminated the two Elven messengers bound for the horsemen.”

  Izgra remained silent.

  “He and Quirg returned to the Nagur path, drawn by a powerful spirit moving through the ancient wood. Reports from Luxlor confirm a battle,” added Sulgor.

  “The fools,” grumbled Izgra. “All know the Caretaker dwells in the wood. His spirit alone would draw Methra like a moth to a flame.”

  “Methra was aware of the Caretaker,” snarled Sulgor
, taking small pleasure in the success of his brethren. “However, there was another.”

  Izgra spun and faced the Malveel King. Sulgor shrunk low as candlelight displayed a glimpse of decaying flesh beneath the warlock’s cowl. Red eyes bore down on the beast.

  “What did you learn?” demanded Izgra.

  “Two boys entered the wood, bound for Luxlor,“ replied Sulgor.

  “Boys?” questioned Izgra.

  “They are of the proper age,” returned Sulgor.

  “Go on,” demanded the Half-Dead.

  “The pair hovered near the wood’s edge for a time,” continued the beast. “Methra and Quirg were drawn to their location. When my brothers arrived, the boys split and only one remained. Our servant in Luxlor was unable to determine exactly what took place, but the remaining boy was eliminated.”

  Izgra turned back to the window and gazed west.

  “I felt it,” said Izgra, his voice rising in pleasure. “A wave as this boy’s spirit passed. He held great power. Quirg fell at his hands.”

  Sulgor sensed his master’s triumph and took great satisfaction in deflating the warlock.

  “Methra did not kill the new Seraph in the wood,” stated the Malveel.

  Izgra spun and the red eyes flashed. The Half-Dead’s hands rose, charged with the red flame of Chaos.

  “What are you saying?” snapped the warlock. “His spirit was full of power, he must have been the Seraph.”

  Sulgor backed away, immediately regretting his small pleasure.

  “He was not,” growled the beast. “Our contact in Luxlor assures me the dead Zodrian boy was not the Seraph. The other was our target.”

  “I felt the dead boy’s passing,” snapped Izgra. “How can this other be the one?”

  “I do not know, my lord,” answered Sulgor keeping low. “The heirs to the three thrones flock to his aid. They accompany him.”

  The flames around Izgra’s hands flickered and faded as he digested the news.

  “The three shall raise the one and place him on the throne,” quoted the warlock. “The verse of the Scribes.”