No matter what happened, he and Culhen would always be together, and with this reassuring thought, Ahren drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 18
Something had changed. While Ahren strode through the streets of the Brazen City towards Vandir’s forge, he saw many residents with distrustful and irritated faces, holding their purses or possessions closely. Food was becoming even scarcer, and he heard whisperings that several murders had been committed the previous night – the victims having been robbed or their homes plundered. Several people looked angrily at Ahren and Culhen, and one old woman spat at his feet. ‘Parasitical mercenaries’, she hissed, and scurried away.
They’re all smelling of fear and hunger, was the message he received from Culhen, who deliberately held his nose upwind.
‘They’re running out of provisions’, said Ahren quietly. Suddenly, he had a sick feeling in his stomach. Hopefully, Vandir wasn’t infected be the general mood or all of Ahren’s efforts over the previous few days would have been in vain. He picked up the pace and was relieved to see the blacksmith giving him a friendly wave when he arrived at the forge.
‘Now that’s what I call dedication. The sun has only started to rise and you arrive for work in double-quick time. Have you caught the blacksmithing bug or are you running away from something?’ he asked with a laugh.
Ahren responded half-heartedly, because the craftsman had hit the nail on the head without knowing it. Ahren had slipped out of the room as early as possible so as to avoid Khara. He was just too confused by his own feelings, and her behaviour the previous evening spoke volumes. He didn’t stand a chance against her Northmen admirers. He thought it was clearly best not to be alone with her until he had figured things out. He sighed to himself when he realised that he was subconsciously following Falk’s instructions for stalking a Dark One, and somehow it was apt. Khara was at least as dangerous and decidedly less forgiving.
Vandir clicked his fingers in front of the apprentice’s eyes. ‘What’s going on in your head?’ he asked, concerned.
‘Just the mood in the city’, Ahren quickly responded. ‘It seems that mercenaries like me are no longer welcome since this morning.’
The blacksmith frowned. ‘There’s hardly anything left to eat, and the siege weapons on the Plains at the foot of the mountain are ready for action.’ He gestured with his chin towards the city wall nearby. ‘Have a look for yourself and you’ll understand why everyone is on edge.’
Ahren walked the few paces to the wall and climbed the steps to get a look from the parapet. A city guard was standing nearby, but took no notice of him, concentrating instead on the sight below, which made Ahren gasp when he saw it.
More than three dozen siege weapons had been drawn into position on the green Plains. The louring clouds which threatened a heavy downpour added to the menacing atmosphere created by the enormous catapults, anchored to the ground by man-sized pegs, the buckets of their long arms holding rocks as big as fattened sheep, ready to be hurled up towards the city.
Even though the distance was considerable, Ahren had little doubt that the projectiles would reach their target. Little wonder that the mood in the Brazen City had changed. He needed to make contact with Bergen as soon as possible, or countless people would lose their lives in this senseless conflict!
He ran down the steps and towards Vandir. ‘This is madness’, he said forcefully. ‘Justinian needs the smiths; he can’t use catapults!’
The Ice Lander shrugged his shoulders stoically. ‘I assume he simply wants to tear down the wall so his legion can gain entry. As long as the city walls hold, we can pick off his soldiers as they move up the switchback.’ There was a note of concern in his voice too.
‘Will Bergen and the Blue Cohorts fight if it comes to the crunch?’ Ahren asked. This was no time for subtlety, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach now that he fully comprehended they would soon be caught up in the middle of a battle that nobody had wanted.
Vandir nodded emphatically. ‘They’re staying hidden for the time being because they don’t want spies or traitors to have any idea of where they’re quartered. Bergen has experienced enough sieges to know how to minimise risks to himself and his people.’ The blond man’s voice still sounded full of admiration for the commander, and Ahren hoped that someday people would speak in the same way of the Thirteenth Paladin.
‘That’s enough chit-chat for now’, said the smith. ‘We need to work while we can. Who knows how many days we have left?’
I know, thought Ahren darkly and he exchanged a glance with Culhen. The wolf sent him back calming thoughts and settled down in a sheltered corner where he could keep his eyes on the forge. In case anybody causes trouble, Ahren heard in his head, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then he got down to work, while the wolf kept an eye on the pair.
The day dragged on, Ahren’s muscles ached, and the passers-by glared in at him as they walked past the forge. He wondered how Khara was getting on. The girl was still trying to befriend people, and he was unsure whether she would continue to have success now that the mood had changed for the worse. His concern for the swordfighter increased, causing him to lose concentration. So much so, in fact, that he almost missed the figure wearing a deep-blue cloak, approaching from the city wall and beckoning to the blond blacksmith.
Ahren kept his head down, trying to see more out of the corner of his eyes while mechanically operating the bellows. The stranger seemed to be a woman, and he identified blue leather armour peeking out occasionally from under the heavy cloak. Trogadon had described the normal garb of the Blue Cohorts in great detail to Ahren and Khara, and the apprentice was convinced he was looking at a member of the mercenary troop they had been searching for since their arrival in the Brazen City.
His heart was pounding, but he pulled himself together and looked down at the coals.
Can you pick up her scent somehow? he asked Culhen.
The wolf stretched contentedly and yawned. No problem, he responded calmly, before bounding over to the two, clumsily and excitedly, tail waving, every inch the skittish puppy. Except that this puppy was over one pace tall and had long, gleaming, white fangs. Still, Vandir laughed and tickled Culhen’s head, while the wolf, apparently curious, rubbed up against the stranger’s leg. She flinched, but then patted the wolf, who then proceeded to bury his nose in her pockets, as if looking for a treat.
The woman finally pushed the wolf away, laughing in a sonorous alto voice. ‘That’s enough now’, she said with an amused laugh, and Culhen trotted off obediently and curled up in his corner again.
That was far too easy, was the self-satisfied message Ahren received from his friend. I’ll find her no matter where she goes.
Vandir and the mercenary talked for another while before the mercenary disappeared behind the longhouse.
Should I follow her? asked Culhen excitedly.
No. You’ll be able to follow her scent this evening, won’t you? was Ahren’s quick response.
Of course, responded the wolf, and sorely aggrieved, buried his nose into the fur of his tail.
Ahren rolled his eyes but left it at that. He went back to his work and waited for the afternoon to turn into evening. His plan was to find the Blue Cohorts’ hiding place with the help of Culhen’s nose, and then return to Trogadon before nightfall when the streets would be too dangerous. As soon as the evening began to set in, he began sighing and rubbing his back obviously. At last Vandir looked up from his work with a concerned look.
‘It’s been a hard day’s work today’, he said sympathetically. ‘We’d better stop before you break in two. Same time tomorrow?’ he asked.
Ahren nodded keenly, said goodbye, and went over to Culhen, giving the appearance they were going to take the familiar route home. They were hardly out of sight of the longhouse when the wolf changed direction to see if he could find the scent of the woman in blue.
His nose in the air, the wolf trotted down a street parallel to the one they had just
been on, and finally arrived at the city wall. Have it! he said triumphantly and led Ahren along the inside of the protective wall, sniffing the ground intensely all the while. The stranger must have used the wall as cover, and so they ran along it in a northerly direction, until they finally arrived at a large wooden weathered-looking warehouse, wedged in between three longhouses and the city wall. A remarkably large number of Ice Landers were standing around outside the longhouses, and Ahren’s instincts told him they were more likely to be guards than walkers taking the evening air.
He signalled to Culhen to duck down and did the same himself. Crouched in the long shadow of the wall, Ahren looked carefully at the longhouse. Thick old timber beams hid the inside and the doors appeared to be very sturdy in comparison with the rest of the ramshackle building. Ahren gave a silent whoop for joy, believing he had found Bergen’s hiding place. He would need to make certain before telling the others. If this was only a storage depot for a pile of expensive weaponry, and they entered without authorisation, then at best they would be unable to get any more information, and at worst it could come to physical combat. They had only one chance of finding Bergen, and so the young Forest Guardian decided to risk having a look inside.
The warehouse had a few small windows just under the roof through which he could possibly peek. They were hardly bigger than air vents and so entry would be impossible, but they were sufficient to his purposes. If he kept to the city wall, and if he climbed the back wall of the building from the narrow alley around the back, then nobody would spot him. With a little luck, he would see something inside and then return to Trogadon and Khara.
Stay here! he ordered Culhen. You’re too big and too conspicuous to slip in unnoticed. The wolf was now very imposing and had become a much more powerful fighter, but the flip side was that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to remain invisible.
Right, then, muttered Culhen grumpily.
Ahren moved forward warily, only proceeding when the guards were looking in a different direction. With every step the nervous feeling in his stomach increased until he was finally past the longhouse. He was giving Culhen a warning look over his shoulder when he spotted the wolf’s concern. The apprentice was now surrounded by guards, and there were too many of them for the wolf to be of any assistance if the apprentice were discovered. Driven by his protective instinct, Culhen crawled a few paces forward, and Ahren had to use all his willpower to instruct the animal to lie perfectly still.
Then he crept onward until he finally reached the back of the warehouse. He gave a sigh of relief. The distance between the city wall and the building was no more than two paces and there were no torches hanging on the wall, so he was invisible in the long shadow. He stretched his fingers and prepared to climb the seven paces up to the little square holes above him.
Just as his fingertips had found a precarious hold in the wooden wall, he heard a noise left and right and Culhen’s warning voice in his head.
Above you! echoed through his head, and as Ahren looked up he saw two figures, who must have been lying on the city wall, from where they had kept an eye on the back of the warehouse unnoticed. They jumped nimbly down to him and in no time at all he was trapped between them.
An ambush! shot through his head as he grasped Wind Blade. Fetch the others! the apprentice ordered Culhen and spun to his left to dodge a heavy blow, while the attacker used his crony’s feint to hit Ahren hard on the back of his head with something heavy.
The young Forest Guardian hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, everything went black around him. The only thing he could hear was Culhen’s anguished howl.
***
Falk tilted his head while they were sitting with the Triumvirate while Uldini was trying to persuade the three city representatives. Their reception this evening was less formal and cool than previously, but the negotiating partners had requested the Arch Wizard to present the Sun Emperor’s demands, a request that Uldini granted at great length and in even greater detail. The old Forest Guardian had hardly been listening, but now he was staring intently into space.
‘What’s wrong?’ whispered Jelninolan, who had noticed his expression.
‘Selsena thinks she’s picked up a signal from Culhen’, said the old man, his face creased into a frown. ‘The wolf was too far away for Selsena to be certain, but she’s uneasy about it – and so am I.’
‘Culhen’s probably just hungry’, joked the elf, half-heartedly, but her voice betrayed her own concern.
‘Can you track him down with a spell?’ asked Falk urgently, but Jelninolan shook her head. ‘I could, but then the Doppelganger would find out where the target of the magic is hiding. I wouldn’t like him to discover where Ahren is. If the boy is too far away, then we’d be running the risk of the Doppler getting to him before we would.’
Falk frowned and Uldini cleared his throat before continuing. ‘So those are the conditions under which Justinian, Emperor of the Sunplains, is willing to put an end to the conflict. He hopes that in the light of the greater dangers posed by the Adversary you are willing to agree to them.’
Xobutumbur roared with laughter and drummed the table with the flat of his hands, his face the picture of bitterness. ‘Well that’s a fine ultimatum! His treachery doesn’t come off and now we’re supposed to deliver the mercenaries who have stood bravely by us. We are to turn ourselves into traitors so that we can all negotiate as equals again?’ he spat out.
‘And he’s using the dark god as leverage’, said Windita in disgust, backing up the dwarf.
Only Palustra seemed to give the proposal serious consideration although her face suggested rejection. ‘We should present our demands and see how the negotiations develop’, she finally suggested.
Windita nodded and looked gravely at Uldini. ‘We demand free access to the Eastern Sea harbour so that we can sell our wares to the peoples of other harbours. We also reject any further occupation by mercenaries of the Sunplains as we will now be responsible for our own protection. The price of weapons will increase by one tenth, and those made from Dwarf Steel by one fifth. In return your fine Emperor will not have to make an official apology and we will present an agreed statement referring to the matter as an unfortunate “misunderstanding”.’
Uldini gulped, and his eyes shot from one member of the Triumvirate to the next as he considered the consequences of their demands. ‘And what about Bergen and the Blue Cohorts?’ he asked cautiously.
‘Considering the whole episode was a misunderstanding, they cannot be seen as traitors and therefore cannot be executed. It should be left to them to decide whether to stay or to go’, said Palustra smoothly.
Uldini blew out his cheeks, then turned to his two companions for advice. ‘Their suggestion of proclaiming this quarrel to be a misunderstanding is excellent. It would be a way for Justinian to save face and forget about executing the mercenaries, but the rest is utopian. We can’t fulfil all of their demands’, he said quietly.
Falk rolled his eyes in disgust and prodded Uldini in the chest. ‘Then think of something else. We want to save Bergen, the Cohorts and the blacksmiths. The rest is incidental’, he whispered in a hard voice. ‘If everyone is happy afterwards, well and good, but now it’s vital that everyone will be able to fight when the Dark Days come upon us.’
Jelninolan nodded, and Uldini chewed his lower lip as he considered what to do next. Then he turned back to the Triumvirate and the serious bargaining began.
Falk closed his eyes in annoyance and asked Selsena to investigate Culhen’s emotions further. Hopefully the Titejunanwa could find out what was going on out there.
***
‘Where’s he hiding himself?!’ said Trogadon in an exasperated voice. He and Khara were sitting in the taproom of the tavern as they did every evening and were looking at the door intently. Darkness had set in some time earlier and there was still no sign of Ahren. The dwarf absently took another sup of beer while Khara sat there, her body appearing calm, but her fac
e betraying concern.
‘Maybe he’s been attacked’, she said finally. ‘I got a lot of hostile looks today, and even people who were drinking with me yesterday are avoiding me today. Anyone who isn’t native to the Brazen City is now being looked on as the enemy.’
Trogadon snorted. ‘I already know the rules of sieges, thank you very much. If you don’t belong, you’re the first to perish’, he said, grumpily putting down his beer. ‘There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to go find him, even if we risk being attacked ourselves.’
Khara nodded and was up in an instant. She was clearly not half as relaxed as she had let on.
Trogadon looked her up and down. ‘Damn it girl, we haven’t bought any armour for you yet, have we?’ he said grimly, and she shook her head.
‘I looked into it yesterday, and can collect it from the blacksmith tomorrow, but until then I’ve no protection.’
Trogadon shook his head angrily. ‘It was obvious, we should have...’ he began, before being stopped in his tracks by Culhen, who leaped into the taproom gesticulating wildly so that all conversation in the room stopped and several swords were drawn.
Trogadon stood up quickly, upending the table in the process, and caught Culhen by the collar, dragging him towards the door. ‘No need to be afraid – he belongs to us’, he called over his shoulder, pulling the excited animal out of sight of the customers.
Khara followed hot on his heels and went down on her hunkers to calm the wolf down. ‘Good boy, Culhen. What’s up? Is there something wrong with Ahren?’ she implored, and the wolf started barking wildly again.
‘That’s not going to work’, growled Trogadon, but Khara raised a placatory hand.
‘He’s much more intelligent than a normal wolf’, she said and put Culhen’s head between her hands, looking deeply into his amber eyes.
‘Calm down now, or we won’t be able to help you. Bark once for yes and twice for no. Understood?’
The Brazen City Page 31
