The Travelers' Song

by Brendan O'Gara

  “In succession, one by one the shopkeepers or owners that Chris had spoken to at the market came to sit at the table with Chris. Marco, Nicholas, and I were stationed at tables nearby. They haggled about money then came to an agreement, Or, if not, the merchant left in a fury.

  “Eventually, a man and a woman sat down with Chris. The woman spoke to Chris for a few moments. The man produced a bag and then another bag of gold. He handed them to Chris. She took the satchel she was holding and passed it off to the pair. Then they got up quietly and walked away. When Chris stood up to go to her room we all stood, too. At the door to her room, Chris said, ‘As it turns out, I will get back on The Kellerman in the morning and leaving this town. I’ll pay you in the morning on the docks. Thank you for your service.’ And she went into her room.

  I thought to myself this has been the fastest money I have ever made one day! I was paid for six months of work. On the dock in the morning Christiann walked up to the captain of The Kellerman, spoke to the man, then pulled some money from a pouch. She then walked over to Marco and Nicholas, and handed them a bag of gold. She walked onto the ship and I never saw her again. Marco, Nicholas, Guy, and I walked into a warehouse right there on the pier. We huddled over a square on top of a cargo box and poured out a bag of gold. This was more gold than I had ever seen in my entire life. Marco divided into four equal portions. I believed that I was going to have one hundred and eighty gold pieces. However, I was handed two hundred gold pieces. Guy was more excited than the rest of us. He had never been given equal share by anyone for anything. As a half-orc he had always been ostracized, pushed down, and told he was less of a man than any other human. Not this time, and not by us.

  “We didn’t go back to the Shattered Star, as it was far out of our price range. We went to the Bare-Knuckles, a sailors’ bar and inn we all knew. We were careful, calm, and attempted to not attract attention. We didn’t throw our money around. We had a nice meal and we did get drunk. Boy, did we get drunk. It was our only mistake, but it only takes one. The next morning, I woke up chained to a wall. My boots were gone. My money was gone. The dagger Guy gave me was gone. I didn’t know where I was. There was straw on the stone floor. The walls were made of stone as well. I was in a cell with all three of my friends. None of us could figure out what had happened and why we were in jail.

  “We sat there for hours after waking . We sat there until the one person I never wanted to see in my life walked through the cell door. That person was Severus Gun. Severus was the by the book Sheriff of Dakar. He was an elf of old, tall, with dark brown hair the color of mud and beady eyes to match. Severus had his men bring in potatoes, cheese, and water. He then explained what he thought got us landed in the clink.

  “According to Severus, Christiann was a con artist. She had forged papers showing that she owned the item, the one in the satchel that we had gone with her to pick up. Yeah, the one that we had guarded, which she sold and paid us with money from the sale as services rendered. As Severus said, therefore we were accomplices.”

  “Is that why you are considered a thief?” Charlotte asked.

  “Look, I’m not proud of it, but, yes. Other than the occasional loaf of bread as a street rat,” Johan answered, finishing his tale.

  “Some people in town said that Severus could be the cruelest person they had ever met. Severus took us out of the room one at a time to talk to us. He took Marco first but we didn’t hear any screams. I guess wherever they took Marco to the learning room, as they called it, was far away or the walls were very thick. Hours later, when Marco was brought back, he didn’t face us. He didn’t speak to us. Marco faced the wall, rocking back and forth like a child. They had broken him. Severus broke him. He took Guy next, but he never returned. I was next.”

  “Were you terrified?” Gadlin asked. “I would be terrified.”

  “Yes. I was scared. Then, when I got to the room, I thought it very strange that all Severus did was ask me questions. Apparently he had gotten what he needed from the others. When it was my turn, he needed someone to talk to him, to answer very specific questions. The others seemed unable or unwilling to answer. After Severus and I had spoken at length, and I do mean at length—three or four hours—he took me back to the cell. The next day Severus came back, but he didn’t come back to question us or talk. He came back to tell us that we were going to be held in the jail until the investigation was ended, six months or so I reckon. I watched Marco never speak again, Nicholas died of dysentery, and we never heard what happened to Guy.”

  “What did the woman sell? Was it an Eldritch item?” Wandalor asked.

  “Severus told me that the woman had been in league with the owner of the items. It was a figurine made of some type of ancient bone. With my friends’ and my unwitting help, she had sold the item. The thieves guild had gotten involved, as had the merchant guild—both wanting a cut of the deal. Apparently, the thieves guild put a bounty on Chris’ head to get their money. The merchants guild got involved because some of the merchants wanted to buy the item. The merchants had to pay the thieves guild not to kill her,” he explained.

  “Since the family of Althis had been involved, the whole thing would be seen as a scandal and other people would try to scam the family. As a result, all those who had been involved were being eliminated. Severus told me that if he released me I would be killed in the street in a matter of days or hours. Not that Severus had a great love of me, he just didn’t want to deal with another person dead in his streets. He shared with me that he had recently sold off a great deal of the city’s debt. Any of us poor slobs in long-term holding were included in that debt. Severus told me I was no longer his problem. Soon I would be transferred to a cage, put in a caravan, and taken to another country to live out my days in a prison. The country he named was Emeranthia. The emperor buys prisoners from other countries like he’s buying cattle. He sorts the holding cells by race and country. Humans and humans together, humans and elves together. There seems to be no coherent reason for how he sorts living souls that I can understand. One day one of his men came to my cell, seemingly at random. He picked me out, kept me in chains, and walked me to the throne room where I met Wandalor, Darr, and Gadlin.”

  Charlotte pondered what Johan had said. She tried to see what she had in common with Johan. She didn’t want to insult Wandalor, so she said, “I don’t see what I have in common with Johan. I’ve never stolen a thing. I’ve never even been on a boat.”

  “Have you ever been a situation that was not as it appeared?” Johan asked.

  “Of course, everyone has,” she answered.

  Wandalor saw the heat rise in Johan, so he interrupted. “Let’s hear from another. Maybe his story will hit closer to home for you, Charlotte.”

  Chapter Six

  Gadlin looked at Wandalor and said, “I suppose you want me to tell my story now.” He stood and picked up another piece of firewood, tossing it on the fire. The embers kicked up into the air and the flames cast shadows on Gadlin’s face as he began to speak.

  “Have I ever told you that I hate dragons? I mean, I really hate dragons. I come from a town called Midian in the Kingdom of Daysia. The king’s name was Ammon Dega. Now I tell you all this to tell you a few other things. The king put one of his cousins in charge of our town. He made the relative a magistrate. This new magistrate’s name was Zariel Degford. This man was not by any means what you would consider attractive. He was a portly man, with oily skin and oily, short red hair. He was the kind of man who would have to pay women to talk to him, and he did just that.

  “He went to a brothel outside of town near where my father had a blacksmith shop next door. Yes, we lived next door to a brothel.” Gadlin snickered. “Losing my virginity was easy. The brothel was an all day and all night place. Since they made noise at all hours, the owners and the women who lived there didn’t mind the blacksmith not far away from the back door. My father and I worked into the evening with the fires burning. He and I made armor or swords. We did
fine work.

  “One of the first things the new magistrate did when he came to our town was to set about employing his friends as guards. He gave them power and put them in charge so that he had people in place where it benefited him most. Guards he could trust do to whatever he asked them to do, without questioning if it was right or wrong.

  “The magistrate’s first official act was to surround the brothel with his guards. He had the door locked and closed. He then ordered his men to set it ablaze, with people still inside. His men used crossbows and swords to kill anyone who jumped out of the windows in an attempt to save themselves.” Gadlin shuddered at the memory. “He said it was in the interest of the ‘public good’. In my opinion, he burned it down so that the ladies there couldn’t gossip about his past visits. The blaze was so large that the buildings next door caught fire. His men were zealous in their actions, killing all those who ran from the building.”

  Gadlin reached for a wine skin and took a large gulp before continuing. “Now, as luck would have it, I wasn’t home that night. I was not with my father hitting the anvil with a hammer on some hot iron. I was not home with my mother and little sister.” Tears welled up in Gadlin’s eyes as he spoke, and he took a moment to regain his composure.

  “I had gone out hunting three days before the fire. I was hunting for meat for my family and close friends. I tracked down a bull moose. This majestic animal stood eight feet tall, from hoof to tine on the tallest antler. He was a good thousand pounds and he could run like the wind. His hoofprints were deep in the snow. It was the morning of the third day when I finally found it. I tracked him with an arrow knocked in the bow; a bow I made with my father. It was a composite bow made with boar tusks, bears sinew and a deep red wood. I saw the bull that morning as it called out to a cow. I waited until he had mounted the cow. I gave him a few moments, thinking that’s how I’d like to go. As the stag began to back off from the cow, I loosed my arrow and it found its mark. The bull fell dead with one shot. That cow shot off like lightning. I was happy and relieved. I moved down quietly, took off my pack, and set up to dress the big stud. I pulled out an axe, cutting down a few saplings to make a sled. I began to clean the bull, Field dressing, it is called. I cut it into easily, dividing it into pieces after skinning and removing the uh...” Gadlin looked at Charlotte and remembered she was a lady. “The waste. I took home the pounds of meat and hide. From this one hunt, one bull moose, I had set up my family for the winter with enough to share.

  “Now I had to drag my kill back to town, back to Midian. When I finally got back to town I was on the far side. I mean, I had to drag this thing through the center of town, out the back gate to my home and my father’s blacksmith shop. I know I could make several deals on my way. In the past, I made a deal with the butcher to clean the sinew, a deal with a tanner to tan the hide, and a deal with the baker to trade meat for bread. I was thinking about all these things as I walked up to the front gate.

  “As I got closer to my home, I saw that there are more guards than usual. Most of the time there were only two guards, and a money keeper who took a copper for the gate fee. You know, for non-locals. On this day, I saw that there was a new money keeper. He said to me, ‘That’s a copper to come into Midian unless you’re here to trade.’ I looked at him like he was crazy and said, ‘I’m a local; been hunting. You see that meat behind me? I’m here to trade and go home.’ The man looked over at a guard, who nodded his head. The gate was then opened for me. I stopped at the baker’s, the first place I saw, pulling my sled over to his shop. While talking about meat and trades, I noticed that some of the people in the bakery were looking at me like I just grew a second head. I dealt with the baker, got some bread, gave him some meat, and went about my business. I went to the butcher next. I wanted to share my good fortune, He looked at me strangely as well.” Gadlin’s eyes filled with sorrow as he spoke.

  “I asked him, ‘What’s the problem?’ He looked at me and said, “You’ve been gone a few days, lad, so you don’t know yet.’ I assumed he was speaking of the new magistrate and I told him so. The butcher said to me, ‘You need to go home” a look of panic in his eyes. So, I went home.”

  Charlotte saw the pain in Gadlin, so she moved over closer to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “It was your family,” she whispered. Gadlin nodded.

  “I saw the scorched earth and the smoke still coming up from the burning timbers. Timbers of what used to be the brothel. Just beyond that were my parents’ blacksmith shop and my home. I dropped everything and sprinted as fast as I could to find my family, crashing through the rubble. I found my father and my mother burned to death, holding each other. Between them lay my sister. My parents attempted to sacrifice their bodies in order to save my sister.” Gadlin choked back a sob. “I flew into a rage. I don’t remember my actions after that. I came to myself hours later. I was lying on a bed at the weaver’s house. I was later told that Mr. Stenton, who owned the weaving shop, had knocked me unconscious by hitting me on the head with a board. I had slept for two days.”

  “How could that oily evil man get away with such a crime?” Charlotte demanded to know. Enthralled by Gadlin’s story, she had forgotten that there were other men around the same campfire until one coughed back a tear for his friend’s pain. Charlotte looked at the men’s faces— realizing they had all heard this story before, yet they were filled with sorrow for Gadlin.

  Gadlin offered her a weak smile and finished his story. “The townsfolk sent word to King Ammon Dega. They were out for blood, and demanded retribution. The king sent paladins to detain Magistrate Zariel. He brought in a whole new magistrate and, by order of the king, everyone who had been a guard was also driven out of town. We had a new magistrate, approved by the people. He was the son of the cobbler, from the family of Goulet.

  “I left town. I needed rations, so I stopped at the butcher shop. I stopped at the bakery shop. No merchant would take my money. They asked me where I was going, what I was to do. I told them I was going to find justice. I tracked the caravan that had come for the magistrate, to take him back to the capital city. I knew that two of the paladins had stayed in the town to act as guards for the new magistrate. On the second day, I caught up with the caravan. I waited until nightfall.

  “I saw a small camp with the paladins traveling on horseback, with the magistrate on another horse. No tents, just bedrolls by a fire much like us here. I snuck close and I heard as the magistrate told the paladins that he had known that I was not in town when he set the brothel ablaze. He was going to use this ruse when he was being brought back to the capital city. He wanted to attack and hopefully kill the king. He wanted to blame me for the attack. I watched. I saw that the two men with him were not paladins. They were fighters.” Gadlin spoke with stifled anger.

  “Just like city people, they thought they were as safe in the wilderness as they were behind their city walls during the daytime. They went to sleep; no one stayed up on watch. They put a few logs on the fire to keep themselves warm, hobbled the horses, and went to sleep. I approached them from downwind so as not to spook the horses. I moved quietly among them and slit their throats. I gathered up all their paperwork, and released all but one of their horses. I took the magistrate's horse for myself and rode on to the capital city and spoke to the guards at the gate. I had pressing business with the king, I said. I mentioned the town of Midian. I was ushered through the gate and delivered to the king. I was not under guard. I was not under suspicion. I assume they thought that I was the magistrate.”

  Gadlin took another big pull on the wineskin. “I was brought into the court. I of course gave up all my weapons. I produced all I had as evidence. I told him what I had done. I thought he would likely kill me; however, I was at peace with this. I knew that if he killed me I would soon be with my family. My father and mother would be proud of me. My sister and I would soon be able to play again, as we had when we were small.”

  “How did you prove who you were?” Darr asked. He knew t
he story but wanted Gadlin to give more details for Charlotte’s benefit.

  “I came through and into the Great Hall of the Kings. A sergeant or lieutenant came down. He told me his name but now, like so many other facts and so many other names, I have forgotten it. I was brought forward and I showed the king and his advisors the letters ,the notes, the map, and all of my evidence. I was not killed, as you can see. What was my reward? I was arrested.

  “As it turned out, ancient prophecy said an agreement had been made with Aashiq the Destroyer, an ancient Red Dragon. He decided that, according to a legend that one of the people of the king’s bloodline would kill him, the king, or the king’s great-grandfather, a sacrifice of whomever Aashiq declared was to be the killer. Aashiq had declared that this, Zareal the Magistrate, was the name of his killer in this ancient prophecy. Aashiq demanded Zareal be sacrificed and given to him on Zareal’s 30th birthday. Unbeknownst to me, when I killed Zareal he was only 25. They had five years to figure out what to do. I had interfered in prophecy.” Gadlin shrugged. “They knew what they were going to do with me, so off to prison I went. Do you know or can you guess who King Dega had and still has a trade agreement with? Mooreclasain. I was traded to him like so much cattle, as Johan has already said. I sat in that prison for almost a year before I came to Mooreclasain’s prison. In that prison is where I sat for almost another year until I was brought to the throne room, where I met you people.” Gadlin motioned to Darr, Johan, and Wandalor.

  “That’s not the only reason you hate dragons,” Johan said. “That may have been your last reason, but not the first.”