The Brazen City

by Torsten Weitze

  Ahren was pulling out another arrow when he realised that the movements of the battle-creature were slowing. ‘Aim below!’ he screamed and Khara and Falk followed his order. They stabbed repeatedly into the area where Ahren’s last arrow had penetrated, and the young Forest Guardian emptied his quiver as their enemy’s resistance lessened.

  When it was all over nobody could say who had delivered the fatal blow. Suddenly the bulbous creature was perfectly still, its legs had given way under its own weight and the forelegs had given up the fight. There was blood everywhere, and most of it was their own, as many of them had cuts and stab-wounds.

  Falk thrust his sword one last time into the lifeless creature, before sitting with the others, who were leaning against the wall and gasping for breath. Culhen’s nose was on Ahren’s lap, and the wolf gazed up at him with pain-filled eyes, complaining to his master of his suffering. Ahren took that to be a good sign – the wolf’s wounds couldn’t be as serious as they looked. In the distance they could hear cries of alarm and the tramping of boots. Falk gave a tired smile.

  ‘Why do the reinforcements always come after the battle is over?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘Tell them what we did here’, he said, turning to Trogadon. ‘We’re in a pretty bad way and it’s a long way to Uldini. I don’t think Jelninolan will have any strength left to help us. And I really don’t want us to have to fight our way through a few angry dwarves.’

  When the first guards stormed into the room, they were startled to find the companions laughing in relief at the fact that they were all still alive.

  When they finally stepped out of the Clan Halls, the sun was just rising over the city walls, casting the marketplace, milling with people, in a warm light. Everywhere was the sound of laughter and chatter, and the smell of fried corn-biscuits wafting from out of dozens of windows and over the crowd before dispersing into the surrounding streets.

  They climbed the steps, their wounds temporarily dressed, holding onto each other for support and they saw the Brazen City awakening to new, and hopeful life – the citizens’ hunger was being sated and their fear was vanishing.

  They pushed themselves through the laughing people, who shrunk back at the sight of the groups’ shattered bodies but continued to nibble on the flat biscuits which were being passed around.

  ‘The news of the peace treaty must have quickly done the rounds and the food supplies in the warehouses have been released’, said Falk quietly.

  Ahren breathed in the aroma of the food and saw a little child taking an enormous bite from a corn-biscuit. The nutritious golden food was being handed out through the windows of all the surrounding houses, and inside volunteer cooks were kneading and baking and serving the citizens. The sight of all these people, standing around peacefully and enjoying their food and water together, almost moved Ahren to tears.

  Falk put a hand on his shoulder and whispered quietly: ‘Enjoy this moment. This is what we’re fighting for. They’ll never know what a close shave it was earlier.’

  They pushed their way forward towards the entrance to the main building, and Ahren experienced a feeling of pure joy. Then he shuddered as he realised the truth of what Falk had said. After Trogadon had explained to the alarmed guards what had happened and their wounds had been tended to, they had inspected the barrels of Deep Fire and the hole before which they had been stacked. One of the guards had explained to Trogadon that it was an old ventilation shaft which led directly to the mountain slope where the switchback wound its way up. If the Doppelganger’s plan had succeeded, a whole legion of soldiers would have been burned to death in a most horrific manner, and the Sunplains would have immediately declared war on the dwarves of Thousand Halls. The Brazen City would have been pounded into dust by Justinian’s catapults and HE, WHO FORCES would have made mincemeat out of the fighting empires, which in turn would have made the Paladins’ task of annihilating him almost impossible.

  A tumultuous cry brought the apprentice back to reality. Somebody was pointing excitedly at Falk and was triggering off all his neighbours. ‘Look – there’s the Paladin! There’s Baron Falkenstein!’The citizens of the Brazen City began crying out in jubilation and cheering in gratitude. Luckily, the travellers were already at the entrance of the main building and they stumbled inside, except for Falk, who waved at the crowd outside and gave an embarrassed smile. Normally Ahren would have been miffed at being so completely ignored, but at that moment he was far too tired, hungry, wounded and dirty to give it a second thought. He just wanted to get to Uldini, have a bath and collapse into bed.

  Two of his wishes had been realised. Ahren gave a sigh of contentment as he enjoyed the comfortably warm water that had been prepared for him in a solid wooden bathtub situated in his own room. On account of the group’s size, they had all been offered individual accommodation, and now that the crisis was over and the Doppler exterminated, he had his own private space at last.

  He playfully splashed a little water on Culhen’s muzzle. The wolf grunted in response and curled himself up even more so that only his furry white back could be seen. Ahren giggled and then winced when a freshly healed wound came in contact with the edge of the tub.

  Uldini had healed everyone, but the number of wounds, and the fact that Jelninolan had been out of commission, meant that he had really only managed to do a patchwork job. The freshly knitted skin was very sensitive, and so Ahren decided to leave the wolf alone and stretch out in the bath in order to really relax.

  He ran through the present situation in his head again and allowed himself a little smile. Jelninolan had sent a message that she would be able to save Xobutumbur’s life, but not his limbs. The dwarf would, nevertheless, be able to sign the peace document along with the rest of the Triumvirate at noon, which Ahren and his companions would then deliver to the Sun Emperor. His ultimatum would expire on the following evening, by which time they would have long since reached him. They had saved the city with minimum loss of blood, and the sounds of the citizens celebrating wafted in through the window.

  There was still some time until the treaty signing, and Ahren was determined to take forty winks in the meantime. He was just climbing out of the bath when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Are you awake, boy?’ It was Falk, speaking in a low voice.

  ‘One moment!’ replied Ahren quietly, and he quickly threw on his linen garment before opening the door to his master.

  Falk looked at him with raised eyebrows as he pushed his way into the room.

  ‘I was just about to take a short nap’, said Ahren, hoping the old Forest Guardian would take the hint and leave him in peace.

  Falk nodded and looked him up and down. ‘You’re still growing, aren’t you?’ he asked out of the blue, and Ahren shrugged his shoulders. So many things had happened that he really hadn’t been taking any notice. He was still several fingerbreadths shorter than Falk, but the young man was certain that even if were to tower over his master someday, he would still be looking up to him.

  ‘I just wanted to make sure you understand the procedure at midday’, said Falk coming to the heart of the matter. ‘We are going to be arresting Bergen as a matter of formality and then we’ll have to deliver him to the Sun Emperor. That’s what the agreement he’ll be signing states, and that’s the only way we’ll get everything we require.’

  Ahren frowned. That’s the way the wind’s blowing, he thought. Falk wanted to make sure that his apprentice wouldn’t create a scene later, and would stick to the agreement that had been negotiated. ‘I don’t like the fact that we’re locking up a man who loyally stood by the people of this city and who stopped an act of treachery. If I had my way, I’d lock up the Sun Emperor.’

  Falk guffawed cheerfully. ‘That’s a picture I’d love to see too.’ Then he became serious. ‘I’m sure that Uldini can ensure that Bergen will serve out his time on a nice, spacious estate, and he won’t be rotting away in a hole in the ground. At the end of the day he’s going to have to be capable of fighting, a
nd although the Sun Emperor might be stubborn and sometimes unfair, he’s certainly not stupid.’

  ‘Is that allowed?’ asked Ahren in disbelief. He had always associated imprisonment with dungeons, and when Falk nodded in confirmation, the young Paladin was completely confused.

  Falk placed a calloused hand on the apprentice’s neck and gave him a quick hug. ‘Oh, Ahren, you still have to learn so much about politics, but never let it darken your heart.’ Then he let him go and looked into his eyes. ‘Now that you know what’s awaiting Bergen, can I count on you?’

  Ahren thought he wouldn’t mind spending a few years himself relaxing in peace and quiet on a distant estate without fear of Dark Ones or other dangers, and then nodded firmly.

  ‘Good’, said Falk. ‘Then I’ll leave you to your beauty sleep.’ His voice was dripping with sarcasm. I’m going out into the courtyard to do a little training myself.’

  Ahren sighed bitterly and rolled his eyes as his master went toward the door. ‘Wait for me, I’ll go with you’, he said, giving in, and finished getting dressed.

  ‘Good lad’, said his master, and Ahren didn’t need to look at Falk to know there was a self-satisfied grin on his face.

  Chapter 22

  They were standing in the middle of the sun-soaked inner courtyard of the main building, and were just practising a series of attack and parry moves when Jelninolan came through the archway, settled down on a stone bench beside a large tree, smiled and breathed in its aromas with her eyes closed. Ahren saw immediately that having performed an excess of healing magic she had slipped into a passive, almost apathetic state, which would last for a while longer.

  They stopped their training and went over to the elf, who totally ignored them.

  ‘How are you?’ asked Falk in a soft tone, and gently shook her shoulder until she opened her eyes.

  She smiled up at them, and the dark rings under her eyes gave her a ghostly appearance. ‘Exhausted. Run-down. But contented. Xobutumbur is alive and is already back in the meeting room.’ The emotional depth was missing from her voice, and Ahren looked over at Falk with concern, but the old man played down the issue.

  ‘She’ll be alright’, he said. ‘The healing magic for the dwarf was terribly draining, and the first few hours afterwards are the worst. She had to heal Xobutumbur’s wounds on her own yesterday and she needs some time.’ Then he turned to Jelninolan again. ‘Did you come here for a particular reason?’ he asked gently.

  The priestess had closed her eyes again and was lost in the smells coming from the flowers. After some heartbeats she blinked and a look of intense concentration came over her face. ‘I’m supposed to tell you that it will be time soon’, she said in a flat voice, and turned her attention back to the flowers.

  Falk groaned. ‘Uldini really should have been more considerate and not sent Jelninolan to us as a messenger in her condition.’ He gently reached his hand out towards her. ‘Come, we’ll bring you with us.’ Ahren followed suit, and they both led the stupefied priestess back to the meeting room. Everyone had already gathered there, and Ahren was flabbergasted to see that Xobutumbur was standing up. He had a patch over his right eye, and his right arm was missing completely. He was struggling to support himself with a crutch under his left armpit which compensated for his missing left leg. He was discussing something earnestly with Windita, and Ahren couldn’t believe how self-composed the Clan Elder appeared.

  ‘A stubborn old chap’, said Trogadon as he approached Ahren. ‘Never gives up.’ He looked up at Ahren. ‘Do you know what he said earlier when he came in and everybody wanted to send him back to bed? “As long as I have my head and my voice, I’m going to serve the Brazen Clan”. Damn it, but even I would be willing to follow a Clan Elder like him.’

  This was the first time Ahren had heard Trogadon say anything praiseworthy towards another dwarf. It seemed that with the passage of time and the distance from the Silver Cliff, his indestructible friend’s bitterness towards his own folk was begin to fade.

  Uldini spotted them and gestured them towards him. ‘The sun is almost at its zenith. We should go out now and hope that Bergen will be punctual.’

  Everyone got themselves ready and even Ahren fiddled with his armour and tried tidying his hair with his hand. Falk had been careful in the courtyard that they wouldn’t scuff their armour too much while they practised, but a little sprucing up wouldn’t do any harm. Then he suddenly felt a small hand at his neck, straightening his collar, and when he turned around, there was Khara, looking him up and down with a critical eye.

  ‘We need to get something more suitable for you when it comes to official engagements’, she said, and clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

  ‘At best you look like a bodyguard, and at worst like a common-or-garden spy who’s lost his way.’ And she started picking at his armour and shaking her head in disapproval. ‘When was the last time you had a hair-cut?’

  Ahren shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sometime in the spring. That’s the last time Falk cut the long bits off with his knife.’ Ahren himself cut the bits that fell in front of his eyes and didn’t care about the rest.

  Khara rolled her eyes and produced a silver hair band, which reminded Ahren a little of the colour of Falk’s armour. Then she grasped his hair at the back of his neck and tied it up. She tilted her head from side to side, before eventually finishing the surprise inspection with a wink. ‘That will do at a pinch. Let’s just hope the people of the Brazen City don’t look too carefully, and the Thirteenth Paladin manages to pass muster.’

  Ahren was hot and cold at the same time. He had completely forgotten that the signing of the peace treaty would be his first public engagement! He still hadn’t been named When they’d been on King’s Island, so this was his first official appearance as a genuine Paladin. He immediately wished that Khara had warned him about it a lot earlier or hadn’t told him at all. The dignitaries and his friends left the room one by one, and he grew increasingly nervous, his self-confidence shrinking in contrast. With his hands dripping in sweat and his heart pounding, he followed the others out into the sunshine and towards the tumultuous cheering of the multitude.

  So far, so good. Everything was running smoothly and Ahren was happy with his anonymous position in the third row of dignitaries, standing with the others on the platform that had been erected on the marketplace directly in front of the main building. The wooden structure, eight paces by eight, was clearly regularly used for official occasions as it looked somewhat the worse for wear. At the front of the platform, which was roughly a good pace high, stood a pedestal, upon which lay the peace treaty ready to be signed, along with a large white quill and a little glass inkwell. Windita had turned towards the cheering crowd and announced that an end to their deprivations was at hand.

  Ahren could see that the marketplace was full to overflowing and that there were people filling the side-streets, determined to experience this historic event. He noticed that many of the younger and more agile citizens had climbed onto the flat roofs for a better vantage point. Falk was looking around nervously, and Uldini too seemed troubled, exchanging concerned glances with the others. Windita was punctuating her speech with ever-longer pauses and gradually the young Forest Guardian understood what was going on. The blond Ice Lander was playing for time while all the dignitaries waited for the arrival of Bergen and his Blue Cohorts. She finally looked over at the Arch Wizard helplessly, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘But that’s enough talk’, announced Windita. ‘The time has come for us to renew the peace between the Brazen City and the Sunplains.’ The noise was deafening as hats were thrown in the air, tankards were clanked together, and people shouted out their joy at the end of the conflict that had threatened their city for so long. One by one the members of the Triumvirate stepped forward and signed the document. Then Uldini, tongues of blue light flashing from his body, floated forward and magically cast his name onto the parchment. The Arch Wizard was playing the Almighty Ancien
t once again and a murmur of awe and admiration rose from the multitude.

  Falk glanced around the crowd and nodded, satisfied. ‘Good, no troublemakers’, he said quietly.

  Ahren looked at him quizzically, and his master bent over and whispered into his apprentice’s ear: ‘There was a lot of bad blood. We were afraid somebody might want to seek revenge on Uldini because of the last few months. That’s why he’s putting on this magic show. Attacking a messenger is one thing, but a flame-throwing Ancient is quite another’, he explained quietly.

  Ahren nodded and looked around the crowd with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, but the only thing he could see was relieved faces, joy and the odd look of amazement at Uldini’s tricks.

  The Arch Wizard finished and there was another roar of approval, while those on the podium looked around with concern. Of course, the contract was now valid, Ahren understood that much, but it was doomed to failure unless Bergen signed it and allowed himself to be arrested, because Justinian would never recognise it.

  The long hiatus in the ceremonies did not go unnoticed, and the unrest among the crowd was beginning to manifest itself as questioning voices grew louder.

  ‘This is not good’, warned Falk, pushing himself in front of Jelninolan, who was still stupefied.

  ‘Am I too late?’ shouted a powerful voice from a side street at the edge of the marketplace, and Ahren came marching onto the square accompanied by his Blue Cohorts, causing people to move aside willingly or be swept aside by the muscular man and his entourage. Ahren recognised the faces of his captors again, but there was no sign of the tattered and stoical attitudes they had previously.