“Wait, like the nomads use?” Tol’geth asked.
“What nomads? Maybe, probably not? I don’t know who they are and I don’t have time to figure that out just now. I came up with this based on —”
“I mean he didn’t reinvent the wheel here.” Ailsa said, fluttering her wings to land on my shoulder. “But he actually kind of did.” My smile turned into a strained attempt not to frown. “What I mean is, he built something similar to what the nomads use, right? But he did it knowing nothing about them.”
“So, it is nomad magic. Like Tol’geth said.” Pina smiled as if she had finally figured out what she was staring at.
“It doesn’t look like nomad shamanism.” Traser’s voice was a relief to my ears. He sat in a corner eating his dinner. He and Dale had been sparring and training some volunteers from the refugees to learn how to defend themselves. The penal legion had joined us and were looking for new recruits. I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of putting farmers and ranchers with a bunch of former highwaymen turned legit, so I had asked them to see if it would work out. So far, things looked to be fine. “It looks like a simple covered wagon. But it’s so full of,” he waved at the wagon with a fork. “Stuff, that there’s nowhere to sit.”
I sighed and stepped back, allowing them to argue or throw out their ridiculous theories. I was too tired to join in, so I went and picked up the sandwich that was waiting for me. The acolytes of the temple gave me access to the barn, one of their old ones, and had graciously agreed to bring me food as I worked.
I chewed happily, sitting back and listening to their insanity. After about ten minutes they all came to an impasse they couldn’t overcome and realized I had stopped engaging with them. “Are you alright, friend Rayid? You usually enjoy such banter among friends. Do you not?” I smiled at Tol’geth.
“I usually do, but honestly? Today I’m just too tired. You all had it covered, and it was quite amusing.”
“So this, fighting, bickering, it amuses you?” Pina asked.
“Nah he’s not that mean. We just all kinda took off and left him behind.” Pina nodded her acceptance of Ailsa’s words as the little fairy landed on the table, I had left my plate on. “But really you okay?” I smiled broader.
“Heck, yeah I’m okay. I mean, you guys are all annoying sometimes and you kinda stole my thunder.” Dale and Traser grimaced at that. “But I’m done! I’ve actually been able to make it. From the moment I learned how settlements were founded in Tor, with Force mana crystals, I had thoughts about how to help everyone make it north as quickly as possible. Originally, I thought barges would be the way to go, and they still are going to play a big part in getting people north once summer hits and the tides rise. But now? In the depth of winter? That, right there. That’s how we get them to Winters’ Rest.”
“What does it do?” Ailsa asked, taking off from my shoulder and landing on the contraption. She inspected it, her curious nature taking hold.
“That, you’ll get to see soon enough. I don’t want to give away too much, just in case someone learns about this and wants to stop us. But it’ll make it easier for us to move people by melting snow in our way. Think of it in part like the little road that leads here off the king’s road. Just, mobile. Right now, we have a bit of reorganizing to do among the refugees, and I have a few meetings I need to have with some backstabbing mercs. But once all that is settled and we have contracts in hand, we’ll be heading north. Maybe, a week at most.”
My friends congratulated me and one by one left to their own tasks or training. I stayed behind with Ailsa watching, basking in the glory of what I had made. Until a wheel broke in half, sending the whole thing shifting to one side.
Sighing, I got up and got back to work.
Chapter 38: Setting Things To Right
“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.” ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Old Hearth, 12th Novos, 2989 AoR
I stood on the side of the street, watching as the City Guard got ready to breach the building. The Wolf’s Head was the sign of the Black wolf mercenary company. The jerks who instead of waiting for me to negotiate a contract with them took one with Jekkel. The chapter house looked like any other small guild house on the row of guild houses. A few other mercenary companies had their signs clearly marked with their preferred weapon and their signs. A ram and hammer, or a spear and dragon looking lizard thing. I would probably visit a few of them later today to get contracts for escort duty as more people fled north as winter lightened. I’d also be offering them quests with some real experience behind them. Plus a few juicy upgrades I had selected from my Class Skills screen.
But that was for later. Right now? Right now I wanted to make sure that everyone knew not to screw with me. Traser’s uncle gave the order, and two dozen men activated a small explosive sigil they had carved into the front entrance. The door splintered, and they rushed in, shields ready and cudgels in hand.
“Do you think this is right?” Yiddle asked from beside me. He, his goblin friend Fiddle, and a few other secretly hiding non-humans who had been banned from Tor were going to join me. That morning I had stopped by his shop and offered to escort them if they would lend their expertise to my project. They agreed, and the word spread among the underground community, which I found out was a rather open secret among the city residents.
The northern duchy of Tor was, it surprised me to find, a rather welcoming and protective lot. The non-humans that had lived among them, much more common here along the border than in central Tor, had become ‘one of them’ deserving of protection and respect. While the government had been forced to kick them out and ban them by the church’s decree, something I’m sure the Count wouldn’t have done on his own, the people had taken it upon themselves to hide and protect their friends. Elves, dwarves, gnomes, and even a few races I had never seen or imagined joined the small group of nearly a hundred who were preparing to depart with us. And these were only those who wanted to flee. I was sure there were dozens, if not hundreds, more who had stayed, knowing that their city, their home, would need them soon.
There were also several dozen human families who had joined that little party as they had departed in the late morning light. They were attached in some way to the non-humans, or those who had bloodlines or heritages that were persona non grata in Tor.
“What do you mean?” I asked the tall human enchanter. He looked uneasy as he tried to think of a way to say what he wanted to say. “You’re not going to make me angry by criticizing my decisions. If you have an issue, just say it.”
“Well, they’re mercenaries. Hired swords. Is it really okay for you to keep going after them after they have surrendered or fulfilled their contract?” I thought about that for a moment as he explained further. “If I had someone come and ask me to make them a weapon, and I made it for them, and they went out and killed someone. And the murdered person’s family came after me. That would be unjust, I think. I fulfilled a contract as hired talent, it wasn’t anything personal.”
I mulled his words over a few times, thinking about the issue at hand. Perhaps I was being too harsh with Black wolf. Perhaps, now that their contract was over, I should have let them go. Let bygones be bygones. But honestly? No. I felt they had betrayed me, and worse, they had hurt my people. I had saved their people’s lives, and I had started tentative negotiations with their captain. Then they went and took a contract out on my head, that cost lives of people who I was responsible for.
“There is some truth to what you are saying. Its why I opted for a measured response. Instead of locking them in and burning the building down to ashes with everyone inside, I simply asked the City Guard to get involved. I had a legal right to wage war, approved by the Count himself, and they acted against me. Add to that the fact that I was essentially acting as part of the Count’s extended family at the time and, well, you can see why people loyal to the count and his city might find that behavior illegal. To say the least.”
>
“So you’ve manipulated the law to your advantage. How very, noble of you.” I barked a laugh and shook my head.
“My enemies used contracts with demons, fallen, and worse. These,” I pointed at the mercenary guild hall. “Used steel to take away the lives of my people and allow assassins a chance to murder me and my friends. I think taking advantage of a little temporary status to press charges for their crimes, whether they knew they were committing them, is perfectly acceptable.”
“And you’re watching why, exactly?”
“Because I want to. I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t want to burn them all alive. I do. I want to burn this entire city block down with all of them and their families in it just to prove a point! But that would be wrong. An overreaction.”
“I’ll say, you try something like that, and I’ll knock you into next year,” Ailsa said as she buffeted me with a wing from where she sat on my shoulder. I grinned at her, and she returned it.
“So you’ve restrained yourself to, what did you call it? Proportional response?” I nodded.
“What a person does, often speaks far more than what they feel. I can feel a desire to burn every one of them alive. And, knowing its wrong, restrain my actions to ones that would be far more appropriate. That is how I believe we avoid doing all kinds of bad things.” The enchanter grunted in agreement and hefted his full pack over his shoulder. “This, I believe, is nothing more than setting things right.”
“And I take it you have far more of that to do?” I tilted my head from side to side.
“Eh, yes and no. Most of the work I have left to do is negotiations, rewarding allies, and helping those I can reach. It’ll take a few more days, but that’s time I don’t have to spend on the project. A project we need done before we can leave.”
“Which is where I come in.”
“Exactly!” My gaze moved back to the other side of the street where three men, leaders in the chapter house, were being dragged out into the street. They were in iron manacles that prevented them from accessing mana, using abilities, or even moving their fingers. “Ailsa, would you mind helping him with his stuff? Meet me at the magi’s tower later and we’ll see what supplies we need to buy before we head over to the cathedral.” Ailsa agreed, and she went off with Yiddle helping him move his stock and equipment out to Old Hearth.
As for me, I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I turned my back on the scene and started in on the actual work. There was a lot to be done, and not a lot of time to do it in. The one thing that gnawed at me as I walked through the streets of Sowers Vale was, what had happened to Jekkel’s alchemist, and the cultists that had felt from the battle? I’ll need to be watchful for them. With everyone soon to be moving north, I’m sure they’ll try to start trouble somewhere. I prayed that when that time came, we would be ready for them.
The End of Part 2
Epilogue 1: Gathering the Clans
"... the Gods aren't so much worshipped, as they are blamed.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic
Golden City of the Horse Clans, 12th Novos, 2989 AoR
Khan Gangshee watched as the Red Crescent clan entered the Golden City. Their red war-paint covered every war rider in the clan. This was a display, a display of their clan’s willingness and eagerness to fight the coming darkness. It was a display of support for him. The Red Crescent was just the latest clan to arrive, living on the far coast north of the elf peninsula and the falls of Barisel. It was understandable, expected even, as they had the farthest to travel. The other twelve clans had all arrived in some form, and nearly all of them were eager for news.
“Gangshee! It is good to see you!” Dranee the chief of the Red Crescents, yelled from near the rear of the column. Gangshee smiled as he watched his friend draw closer. The Red Crescents might have been one of the most peace-loving clans, more comfortable fishing than hunting or raiding, but they were led by a man who was as fierce as any warrior.
“It is good to see you too, cousin!” Gangshee yelled over the crowed of enthusiastic warriors. As Dranee drew close, he dismounted, leading his stallion over to Gangshee and his guards. “I see you and your warriors are dressed for a fight.” Dranee beamed at him.
“Yes, we are!” Several warriors heard him and gave enthusiastic shouts or war cries as they passed by. Then Dranee turned away from the crowed and his expression fell as he spoke more softly. “I just wish I knew why we were preparing for an all out war. Why cousin, has the great Khan of the Golden Riders called a Clan Gathering?”
“Tonight, I’ll lay out everything. I will speak everything I know to the council of chiefs. Please be patient.” Dranee nodded before smiling and pulling Gangshee into a mighty hug. His cousin was larger than Gangshee, always had been, always would be. A mountain of muscle as keen to do back-breaking labor as to crush the skulls of his enemy’s. A strange affectation of the egalitarian Red Crescent clan. Everyone worked, everyone fought. Everyone ate together, and everyone in the clan had a voice. It wasn’t the old ways, but it was their way. And Gangshee supposed it had some honor to it.
“How I have missed you!” The two released, and Gangshee couldn’t keep a smile from his face. He watched his cousin lead his warriors to where Gangshee had prepared a corral for their horses. Each clan had brought their own tents, so Gangshee had made sure there was plenty of open space set aside for them to set up their camp.
Finished with greeting the last of the clans, Gangshee turned and walked through the Golden City, towards its heart. Random pillars of ancient stone, shattered facades of buildings, colosseums, storehouses, and more dotted the ancient city. Most of the city barely had foundations left, but at the center, at its heart, was the sacred Golden City proper. Several dozen structures made of stone, as ancient as memory, and as grand as ambition. It was all that was left of the united clans first conquest, the exact nature of which was lost to time and echoing history.
The place was called the Golden City for one reason, the building that was the gem at the center of its heart. A massive circular structure large enough for an entire clan to live in, with a dome of pure gold that shone like the sun. Atop the dome was the golden statue of a stallion, the god that watched over their people. The statue was still as pristine as the day it was cast. Gangshee suspected magic, but few dared to inquire much about the specifics of the grand facade. Only the rememberers, the families in each clan tasked with preserving their individual clan histories and the knowledge of the Golden City, spoke of such things freely.
Gangshee walked into the building, past guards stationed to keep out children and those who were purely curious. Inside the grand golden domed building there were two central walkways that intersected each other, one running north and south, the other east and west. At the center of the two central walkways made of marble and polished stone was an open chamber where hundreds could stand. Along the four corners of this central chamber were four staircases that led up and down. Up lead to housing, offices, rooms filled with strange yet harmless trinkets of whatever the ancient civilization that once build this grand place had left behind. Down those steps led to the council chamber, where he would meet with the clan leadership later that night.
For now, he went up. Few ever did. It wasn’t forbidden, but his people were a superstitious lot. They spoke of ghosts that haunted the upper forgotten rooms. He had long since proven, at least to himself, that no ghosts haunted those upper rooms. Only dust and old things that made little sense to him. But there was one place he loved to visit.
He passed by room after room filled with dust, rust, and decay until he found what he was looking for. He pushed the large double doors open and strode into the chamber. Row after row of statues, of gods and goddesses he had never heard of, shrines and pews for petitioners at each statue filled the room. He strode past them all, paying little heed to the oddities that sometimes were representations of odd deities. Until he came to the central shrine.
Two massive statues made of marble and
inlaid with gold, silver, and probably other precious metals that southerners loved stared down at him. These were the only two that ever gave him pause, that caught his interest and caused him to speculate.
He picked up the small lute pipe he had left here last time he visited and played. It was an amusement, a stress relief for him. He wasn’t any good at it, not like the drummers or the singers of the clan. But he still loved filling the peaceful place with music. After a few minutes, he stopped and listened as the music reverberated back to him.
“Its nice, hearing music in these halls again.” Gangshee whirled to his feet, pulling his sword from where he had left it on the bench next to him.
“Who is there? Show yourself.” Gangshee looked but couldn’t see anyone. No one was there. The doors were closed as he had left them. The hall was filled with only stone benches and forgotten statues.
“It was only a compliment, no need to get so feisty.” Gangshee whirled again. This time his sword was directed towards the left corner, where he had discovered a small shrine and office one time as a child. He had never entered there again. No need to. But he went there now. It didn’t have a door, so when he entered, he didn’t make a sound.
“Where are you?” He said, finding the room empty. The shrine glowed a soft blue and pink light from a jewel in the hands of the dragon statue at the center of the shrine. “What? Who brought you here?” He searched his memory. There had never been a crystal dragon statue here before. The old shrine had been to a goddess. He thought it might have been to a goddess of healing, as she had that look about her. But that statue was gone, replace instead with a crystal dragon leaning forward, holding a glowing blue and pink gem.
“Oh, I should probably introduce myself.” The gem pulsed as the feminine voice spoke, and Gangshee stood frozen.
“By the golden stallion, are you here to harm us?”
Ethria 3: The Liberator Page 39