Arrows of Ladis

by RG Long

  “Travelers yourselves, eh?” Tallus said, looking over them all appreciatively. “Never been to Ruyn. Wouldn’t mind to take you there myself if I was sure my boat could make the journey. But what with these rough waters recently –”

  He waved his hand dismissively.

  “What am I talking about?! You’ll want to get untied and fed, I wager. Let’s see if we can’t make both of those things happen at the Temple.”

  “In the name of those before us, thank you,” Holve said, bowing his head slightly.

  “And not a man unfamiliar with Ladis either, I see,” Tallus said, scratching the scruff on his chin and eyeing Holve with a wide look. “You’re a man I’d like to buy a drink for once you’re out of the Temple.”

  Holve said nothing, just bowed his head again.

  Tallus called some of his sailors forward and told them to escort Ealrin and the others to the temple gates.

  “I’m sure Jerius will have sent a message that you’re expected by now. I’ve got to get the ship checked out and sorted. Juz and Dun will take you to the temple.”

  Two men, who Ealrin guessed were Juz and Dun, came and stood by the captain. They were both shirtless, but the one the captain pointed at as Dun wore a vest. Dun was also the only dark-haired man on the ship.

  He went first down the plank and looked up expectantly at the group. Tallus gave a nervous chuckle.

  “You, uh,” he said hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You won’t give them any trouble, will you?”

  Ealrin guessed that the captain was taking a second to think about who they had brought back from a dangerous expedition and the trunk of weapons they had stored below the deck of the ship that belonged to them.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Silverwolf answered, with an all too familiar sly grin on her face.

  Ealrin sighed.

  He wondered how long they would stand on the continent of Ladis before being put into circumstances beyond his control and brought on by the mysterious assassin.

  Looking less than confident, Tallus called over two more men and gave them instructions to follow the group to the Temple. He waved them off before saying to Holve.

  “I’m serious about that drink.”

  “And I hope to share it with you,” Holve replied, a serious look on his face.

  After ten steps, Ealrin put a boot down on a new continent. Dun looked back at the group and said with a wide grin that was missing a front tooth.

  “Welcome, friends,” he said as he spread his arms wide and walked backwards through the crowd on the stone dock. “To Port Arranus.”

  5: No Trouble

  Ealrin walked behind Dun and was fairly certain that the rest of his group followed behind him. The city was a buzz of activity, though, Ealrin noted, it felt awfully quiet for the amount of people running from store to stall and ship to warehouse.

  No one shouted. No one proclaimed about their wares. The entire town was buzzing with movement and business, yet lacked the same clamor and noise that Ealrin usually understood these types of cities to have.

  Another thing that did not escape his notice were the flags.

  “Mister Ealrin,” Jurrin asked as he came up next to him and tried to keep step. The halfling was too polite to ask him to slow down, but Ealrin measured his pace all the same. There was no one bustling him to get around, so it didn’t feel like he was keeping someone from their destination.

  “What it is it, Jurrin?”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” the halfling asked in a low voice. “But why hasn’t Miss Blume just...”

  At this point, Jurrin made his eyebrows do a few somersaults in her direction.

  “You know. And gotten us out of this predicament?”

  Ealrin looked down at Jurrin. He felt for the little man. They had really dragged him away from his home on Ruyn and the comfortable life he lived there only to find an angry world where he didn’t fit in anywhere. What made things worse, was that they had originally brought two halflings along with them.

  Ealrin shook his head sadly, remembering the circumstances that had led to that.

  “Holve said it wasn’t an option,” Ealrin repeated. “It’s bad enough when it just kind of comes out of her without her consent.”

  “Bah,” Gorplin said to his left. The dwarf had walked up on them as well and displayed his usual desire of forcing his way out of any situation. “If only I had my axes...”

  “Well you don’t, Stumpy so shut it,” Silverwolf offered up.

  Ealrin let the argument unfold behind him without paying much attention to it. The dwarf and the woman made for entertaining banter if nothing else.

  “These banners,” Serinde said in Ealrin’s ear. “They’re everywhere.”

  Ealrin looked back at the female elf and then out at what she had indicated with a nod. All over the city. In fact, over every stall, house, cart, and shop there was a banner. Sometimes they were large impressive things with ornate looking stitching and glittering in the light of the twin suns. At other places they were much humbler: a black flag with the likeness of a gray skull stitched onto it. On every one, be it fine or common, two vertical bars ran down the skull's forehead and stopped where there ought to be a nose.

  “They give me the shivers,” Jurrin said.

  Ealrin had to agree, and he shook himself.

  It was such an odd contrast.

  Just behind the city’s walls there was a teeming jungle. Inside, however, the entire place felt like a tomb. From the old stone work to the depictions of skulls everywhere, the city felt like it was fighting back the life that stood right at its doorstep.

  “It reminds me of the Empire of Enoth,” she said. “They flew their purple banners all over Irradan.”

  Serinde was an elf from that empire on Irradan. Though the empire was now a joint union of many kingdoms and city-states, her heritage was from there. She was very young for an elf. Ealrin had met many that were over one hundred but still looked to be in their twenties from a human perspective. Serinde was not yet that old. To an elf, she had barely come of age at twenty-six. She also had nothing connecting her to Irradan other than memories. Ealrin guessed this was part of the reason she had come with them.

  To escape those familiar places and recollections.

  “These aren’t the symbol of a nation only,” Holve said, interjecting.

  Just as he said this, they passed by an inn on their right and saw that they had been walking along one side of the river. A street cut in between the inn and the next store, leading to a large bridge that crossed the water. Dun indicated that they were to cross this bridge and the other three sailors looked to make sure everyone was crossing at the same time.

  They began walking up the stonework bridge and Ealrin admired its craftsmanship. It was a beautiful piece of masonry, but like everything else in the city, it was old. Some of the stones appeared to be coming loose from their placement. Whether this was from vandalism, the eventual wear of time, or some other cause he couldn’t be sure.

  “Bah,” Gorplin said. “It’s alright for man’s work. A dwarf bridge would last for centuries.”

  “This one’s been here for a thousand years,” Dun said over his shoulder.

  “Bah,” was all Gorplin had to say in reply.

  They crested the bridge, which had arched up to a point and Ealrin could make out a large open market on the other side. This place was just as somber as the other side, which made Ealrin wrinkle his brow. What was wrong with these people?

  Children were present. They walked in step with their parents as they visited stall and store. Men held women’s hands and girls gossiped and played together in groups. But all was done in a manner that made Ealrin feel like they were seeing people after they had just laid a loved one to rest. It was strange.

  “The flags are a symbol of the Theocracy of Ladis, or, to say it differently, the church who rules this continent.”

  “Church? A religion is in charge?” Ealrin asked, taken
out of his musings and back to the conversation at hand.

  “Don’t they have a king, Mister Holve?” Jurrin asked.

  “It’s a complicated land,” Holve replied flatly. “They have a king and princes, but they are a weaker part of the ones in power. A High Priest is who really controls the Theocracy. He and his Priests and their prophets, one of whom we had the misfortune of meeting on the island.”

  Ealrin grunted. Jerius.

  They weaved their way through the market space. Ealrin saw all types of things for sale. Meat at one stall, though he didn’t recognize the animals right away. There were odd, catlike creatures strung up by their legs and skinned, as well as what he could only describe as lizard-like things roasted on sticks.

  Vegetable and fruits at another. Even more of these seemed strange to him. Long, tubular plants of green and red and yellow hung in large bundles. Bread that was flat and greenish in color was stacked high in some booths.

  Ladis was a strange land, he was sure of it.

  Looming over the market was a large building. It rose as one spectacular spiral tower in the center and many smaller towers filled the sky around it. The shadow cast by the towers clothed the area in a darker hue. The suns were going down.

  “This way,” Dun said as he looked over his shoulder at the company tied together and his three sailing companions. Ealrin followed his gaze.

  Jurrin, Gorplin, Holve, Serinde, Blume, Silverwolf, and himself. They certainly seemed out of place in this market. And he wasn’t the only one to think so. Several people pointed or stared as they passed by. Mother’s grabbed their children closer to them as they walked through the crowd. A path was made just by their presence. Ealrin never once bumped into someone. They gave them all a wide berth.

  Dun nodded and then walked up to a large, ornate gate. The same skull pattern was repeated over and over on the gate, except it was not the skull alone. Several depictions of people were in the gate. But, instead of a normal head or recognizable face, each body was topped with the skull. Some of these lead people into battle. Others seemed to teach large crowds. Still more worked in fields or sailed ships. But not one had a face that could be recognized. It was an eerie sight.

  It was built into a wall that surrounded the huge structure. The wall was twice as tall as Ealrin was and built with large, gray stones. Along the top, sharp points lined the wall. Spaced along at intervals were larger, more ornate points of stone. Ealrin had the feeling the walls were built so that they couldn’t be scaled easily. That meant they were trying to keep others out.

  Or in.

  A bell was mounted to the wall and from it hung a long rope. Dun looked at it hesitantly before shrugging at Ealrin and putting his hand on it. Grabbing tightly, he pulled down hard and rang the bell twice. He then turned and looked at the rest of them, even as the bell note went on.

  “Well,” he said. “Thanks for not giving us any trouble. Sorry for all this, but like the captain said, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

  Ealrin didn’t doubt his sincerity. What bothered him, though, was that the man offered no comfort or ways to avoid the fate that was coming their way. Just his condolences.

  The other sailors nodded just as the gate opened up. Everyone turned to look at the large metal gates swing inward to reveal a woman standing in the gap, fully armed and carrying a heavy looking mace. She wore a breastplate that gleamed with fresh polish. The same skull pattern they had seen all over the city was etched into the center of the plate. She wore leather trousers and a skirt of chain. The shirt that was underneath her breastplate was black, along with a belt that was tied around her waist.

  “Prophet Jerius sent word that you were coming,” she said, putting a hand on the gate. “Bring them in.”

  Jurrin went first, much to Ealrin’s surprise. The little halfling was less than brave at times, but perhaps that was changing with each new encounter. The woman in armor raised an eyebrow at the little man, followed closely by Gorplin, who glared up at her. Ealrin and the others followed until they were all past the gate.

  The woman threw a coin at Dun, who caught it deftly in his hand.

  “For your trouble,” she said plainly, before slamming the large gate shut with a shove.

  Ealrin caught a glimpse of the sailor’s confused face before it disappeared behind the door.

  She turned and waved at another woman who stood at the door of the large building. Both were light-haired and, in Ealrin’s opinion at least, sour faced. They both seemed like they had never smiled in their lives.

  “Prophet Jerius said that we would be receiving...” the woman who shut the gate began to say as she took a piece of parchment from the other. She stopped as she glared over the group. Ealrin looked over at Blume, who shrugged.

  “There were supposed to be seven of you,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she grasped the paper more tightly in her hands.

  Ealrin tried not to jerk his head around to look. He heard Holve sigh behind him and he stopped his wondering. There was no question in his mind as to who had gone missing.

  “You were supposed to have two women.”

  Silverwolf.

  6: The White Lion

  Ealrin definitely thought they were ‘processed’ rather quickly. Both women used the word while shuffling them on a path through the courtyard of the giant building, but not into it. They were escorted rather forcefully to a smaller and much less grand building.

  Its back wall was the fortified structure that surrounded the complex. It’s front and sides were made out of smaller, rougher, and Ealrin noted, much newer stones. To him, the building looked like small storage sheds or very small apartments for servants or workers. They were, in fact, only used for prisoners.

  Ealrin, Blume, and Jurrin were tossed into one cell, while Holve, Serinde, and Gorplin were thrown into the other.

  “Once we find your friend,” the first guard said to them after slamming a heavy wooden door and clasping down a padlock. “We’ll let her join you. Then the Prophet can come for you to complete your trial.”

  “Have we started one?” Blume asked, looking at Ealrin with a quizzical expression.

  In reply, the guard banged on the door.

  “You were processed into a trial the moment you were caught breaking the laws of the Theocracy. You’ll complete it when the Prophet has dispensed the judgment for your sins.”

  Before any more questions could be thrown at her or her companion, they stalked off towards the door. Ealrin could see them through a tiny slit in the stonework that served as the only light for the grim room. A group of them were gathering by the gate, looking rather flustered. A few of them kept pointing over to the cells.

  “All female,” he said, more to himself than anyone in particular. “That’s strange.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Blume asked.

  Ealrin shook his head.

  “Nothing wrong, just odd,” he said. “Not one male soldier or guard. Doesn’t that strike you as off?”

  Blume shrugged. Or, Ealrin thought he saw Blume shrug. He blinked several times to get his eyes to adjust to the dim light of their room. Once they did, he didn’t find what he saw all too pleasing.

  The floor was dirt. A few thin, woven mats lay on the ground. There was a bucket in the corner. He had a feeling he knew what that was for. Other than that, there was nothing to see but dark, gray walls.

  “Holve?” he called out at the wall beside him.

  A faint voice answered.

  “We’re fine. Don’t do anything rash. Yet.”

  Ealrin looked at Blume, who smiled and winked at him. From her boot, she pulled out her glowing piece of Rimstone. The green stone gave off a luminescent pulse of green every few moments, as if it had its own heart beating within its core.

  As far as jewelry was concerned, this was not a nice heirloom. It was a rough metal claw, like that of a bird, that held onto a piece of green Rimstone no larger than Ealrin’s thumb. But from this stone, he had watched Blume pr
oduce marvelous magic.

  A small eruption of light came from Blume’s outstretched hand and exploded through the wall separating them from Holve and the others. It burned a hole straight through the stone wall large enough to fit a man’s boot through. Fortunately, the bolt didn’t put a boot sized hole through their companions on the other side.

  “What in the bloody name of my father’s ax was that?” Gorplin shouted in a voice that was now much louder that they had a direct line into the other cell.

  “Quiet!” Holve commanded.

  Ealrin thought he knew why. Looking out into the courtyard, he saw several of the armed guards headed their way. Those women looked angry.

  “Stand by the hole,” he said to Blume. “Cover it up.”

  The hole in the stone wall was still smoking when Blume crossed over to it and tried to act like she wanted nothing more in the world than to lean against the rocks there.

  “What’s all that noise?” one of the female guards shouted as she came near enough to the door. “Trying to break down the doors? We’ve got enough trouble from you already!”

  Ealrin backed away from the entrance, just in case the guards came charging into the cell. While that wasn’t their method, he was glad he did it all the same. The large iron enforced door gave a shudder and the cell echoed with the noise.

  “You can’t bring these doors down that easy!” she said, sounding proud of the jail’s solid portal. “We’ll not take anyone’s foolishness lightly!”

  Ealrin shook his head at Blume who looked ready to reply. He didn’t want to infuriate these guards any more than they already were. It seemed to him that the escape of one of their prisoners had them very upset.

  “Perhaps we should question them? See if we can get out of them where their friend went?” the other guard offered. She sounded far too happy for Ealrin to think that all she had in mind was asking questions.

  He had been captured and tortured once. His palms began to sweat at the thought of it. There was nothing he wanted more than for Blume to blast a hole through the back wall and get them out of this cell. She might still do it anyways. Ever since what happened on Irradan, Blume’s Speaking had been erratic. But Holve had said no magic. He had to stay calm.