The moneychanger’s shop was immediately obvious when they arrived in the area: It was the only building with a brace of armed guards bracketing the door. Channing led the way up the steps and past the guards without stopping. The guards looked at Drake carefully as he passed but did not hinder his passage. Inside, Channing was already speaking with a man seated behind a desk. “...here he is, Schuyler. Just as I said.”
The man stood and bowed slightly as he eyed Drake carefully. “Lord, welcome to my house. Channing tells me that you have some Shreverston silver to exchange,” Schuyler said, indicating a chair for Drake to seat himself in.
Drake grinned. “Not silver. Gold.”
Both Channing and Schuyler froze, their eyes going wide at his pronouncement. “You have Shreverston gold crowns to exchange?” Schuyler asked in a slightly breathy tone.
Drake pulled a pouch containing twenty crowns from his belt. “Yes, I do.” Slipping the string, he quickly presented the moneychanger with four stacks of five coins. “I am going to need silver and copper, but not too much copper. It gets heavy.”
Schuyler swallowed several times before speaking. Then he became excited. “Yes, Lord, at once.” He reached down and brought out a strange counting device. Beads clicked back and forth, and he wrote down numbers quickly. After a few moments, he looked up and smiled. “Lord, your total will be three hundred sixty silver crowns. How much would you like in copper?”
Drake shrugged. “Change ten of them.”
“Very good, Lord. A moment if you please.” Schuyler stood and bowed, then went into the back room. He returned after several moments with six bags of coins. “Each of these bags contains one hundred silver crowns.” He indicated three bags with a blue crown painted on them. “This one contains fifty silver crowns.” He indicated a fourth, smaller bag with a blue crown. “And these two,” he gestured toward two larger bags with brown crowns painted on them, “contain five hundred coppers each.”
Drake nodded and picked up the bags, slinging them over his shoulder. “I thank you, Master Blanton.” He nodded, then left with Channing in close attendance.
Channing remained quiet on the walk back to the inn. He kept looking at Drake with a slightly fearful expression that almost made Drake laugh. Apparently, gold isn’t a common sight at Mira’s inn. Channing darted ahead again when the inn came into sight. He was speaking to Mira when Drake entered, and she quickly came to his side.
“Lord, welcome. Welcome indeed. I am Mira Appleton, and this is my inn, the Broken Mug,” she said, managing a passable curtsy.
Drake nodded. “I am Adept Drake Standralson, from the Darendian Empire.”
Naming himself an Adept caused Mira’s eyes to widen even farther, which was quite a feat. “What is your pleasure, Lord Adept?”
“Beer, or ale. And I believe I smell garlic sausage?” Drake grinned, tilting his head to the side.
A wide grin split her face, showing remarkably white, straight teeth. “You do indeed, Lord Adept. You do indeed. As you probably know, Davenport is one of the busiest trading ports in Vernardia, and garlic is plentiful here. A moment, if you please,” she said as she scampered away. Drake was impressed. It wasn’t easy for a woman of her girth to scamper.
Channing sidled into Drake’s view. “Your pardon, Lord Adept, but what brings you to our humble inn?”
Drake shrugged. “It looked nice from the outside. Like home. Now your turn. Why does Mira want to cut your balls off?” Drake grinned, then laughed.
Channing blushed, looking at the floor. “She didn’t really mean that. You see, she saw me talking with another woman a week ago, and well...she’s the jealous type.”
Drake nodded and laughed, then looked out the window. The people who walked by looked happy for the most part, and he began to relax. Mira quickly returned with a tray, and he was soon enjoying a light meal of sausage, cheese, crusty bread, and beer. More patrons were entering, and Drake sat back to watch. The evening progressed nicely, and Drake stayed in the common room, speaking to those who joined him and learning what he could of this far land.
Drake already knew Vernardia was an island continent. Large by any standard, it was nearly one quarter the size of the Brondian Continent. It was also attended by numerous islands, large and small, which were commonly referred to as the Thousand Islands. There were only seven or eight hundred of them, depending on the tide, but such names didn’t necessarily have to be accurate.
Some of the islands were large enough to be separate kingdoms, and there were occasional border skirmishes between the mainland Kingdom of Vernardia and the lesser island kingdoms. At present, Vernardia was involved in a nasty little war with the Kingdom of Bresardia. Drake almost laughed at the names. Vernardia, Bresardia. He briefly wondered what the other kingdoms were called, but didn’t ask. He was afraid that he might laugh out loud if the names all rhymed. Night fell, and Drake retired to his room. It was a nice enough room, and he fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Morning, with the ubiquitous crowing cock, burst upon Drake. Even after so many years he still hated mornings and crowing cocks. Dressing hurriedly, he made his way to the common room for morning meal. Mira had obviously been cooking for quite some time, and she served him salt-cured ham, fried potatoes with diced onions, and scrambled eggs as soon as he expressed his preference.
Drake spent three days in Davenport before heading inland. He had a plan in mind that would keep him occupied for years, if not decades, to come: Once again, after so many years, he was going to adopt a family.
Drake rode out of Davenport on a plain brown mare. She was nothing special, not even of a particular breed, but she was sturdy and even-tempered. Drake purchased a number of maps of the land around Davenport, and was headed up into the hills of the south. It had taken some effort on the cartographer’s part to convince him that south was going to be cooler than north. North was toward the equator, and the heat of the tropics. South, toward the pole, was cooler. For Drake, who had lived his entire life in the northern hemisphere, it was a very strange concept, but one he was willing to take the word of the expert about.
Drake traveled in relative style. He slept in inns, ate fine meals, enjoyed the sights, and occasionally spent a warm night with some tavern wench. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I’ll know what I want when I see it. Or, more precisely, her. After three weeks of easy travel, he rode into trouble.
A small village lay in a mountain valley, surrounded by fertile fields and orchards. Drake was riding into town with the setting sun over his shoulder when he heard a commotion ahead. He immediately dismounted and tied his horse to a fence post, then crept cautiously forward. His mouth pulled into an angry frown when he got a clear look at the center of the town.
Four men were standing near a fountain, and a fifth was on the fountain speaking. “...done told ya. Over and over, we told ya. But still ya don’ listen. Well, this should make ya listen good. Bring her.” He gestured, and two men brought a struggling young woman forward. “Renata’s pa tried to defy us. Now he’s laid up, and we has her. This is what’s going to happen to your daughters and wives if you try to fight us!” he finally exclaimed, then jumped down to face Renata. Grasping her blouse with both hands, he ripped it loose, exposing her breasts to the crowd. Before he could do anything else, Drake blasted him.
The crowd was silent as Drake pushed through to the fountain. Where the bandit leader had stood was a smoldering pile of ash. Renata and the two men who were holding her were frozen in place as they looked at him, then the men turned to flee. It didn’t save them. Drake threw power from his fingers, slicing through flesh and bone to cleave both men in half. The other two had run farther, but not far enough. Drake’s mage bolts struck each man, burning fist-sized smoking holes through their backs and out their chests.
Drake continued to walk forward until he stood beside Renata. She had collapsed to her knees when the men released her, clutching the front of her blouse closed. A flicker o
f power made the cloth whole once again.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
Renata looked up from the ground at the young man standing over her. Tear streaks lined her cheeks, but she nodded. “They were going to gang-rape me in front of the whole town,” she whispered.
“They are dead, Renata,” Drake said gently.
“But you..?”
Drake smiled softly. “I am not a rapist. Stand up, please.”
Renata stood, and looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. Her fear of Drake’s power was obvious as she shrank away from him. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked in a small voice.
“Send you home,” Drake replied softly. “Go see to your father, Renata. We can speak later, when you feel calmer.” Looking away, he turned to the crowd. “Is there another member of her family here?” he asked.
An old man stepped forward, nodding. “She’s my niece, Lord.”
Drake gave Renata a gentle push toward the man. “Take her home. She’ll probably need someone to stay with her for a while.” The man nodded and immediately took Renata off into the crowd, which opened to let them pass, then closed again to hide her. Drake again raised his voice. “Is the lord of this town here?”
An older man in a vest and matching breeches stepped forward timidly. “We have no lord here, Sir. I am Sommerset Springer, Mayor of Milton.”
Drake nodded deeply, almost bowing. “I am Adept Drake Standralson.” Drake naming himself an Adept had a number of people backing away while others stayed and simply nodded as if they’d known it all along. Looking down at the remains of the men he had just killed, he again nodded. “And these?” he asked.
“Bandits and deserters, Lord Adept,” the mayor answered. “The army has sent several patrols up here to catch them, but they’ve always gotten away.” Several people in the crowd nodded their agreement as they looked at one another and murmured.
Drake nodded and walked back to where he had tied his horse. Looking around, he spotted an inn with the amusing sign of a hog on its back with a barrel balanced on its feet, pouring beer into its open mouth. He had no more than tied his horse to the hitching post than a well-dressed man was at the door, holding it open for him.
“Lord Adept, welcome to the Hog’s Heaven. I am Jasper Aarensen.” Drake nodded and entered the inn. It was deserted, of course, but people were filing in behind him, though not too closely. Drake let Jasper lead him to a table that was set aside from the rest of the room. “What may I get you, Lord Adept?”
Drake looked about the room before answering. The inn was quickly filling, and every eye was on him. “Beer and whatever’s hot.”
Jasper blinked several times, then bowed and disappeared into the kitchen. He was back within moments with a tray laden with a tall tankard, a large bowl of something that steamed, and half a loaf of bread. Setting it on the table in front of Drake, he named the meal. “Lord Adept, this is the house specialty: Venison stew, sourdough bread, and my best beer.”
Drake nodded his thanks and tossed a silver crown onto the table. “I am going to need a room as well. What’s the rate in these parts?”
Jasper looked startled. “Lord Adept, there’s no need for you to pay. You’ve been of service to us, and we owe you a debt. Of gratitude as well as of coin.”
Drake looked sideways at Jasper and grinned. “I make my own way, Innkeeper Jasper. I’ve been looking for a place to settle for a while, and this looks like a nice little town. Keeping me fed could get expensive for you.”
Jasper looked up at the crowd, then back to Drake. “Even so, Lord Adept, your coin...”
“...Is sufficient,” Drake interrupted. “I have some experience with inns, Innkeeper Jasper, and I’m all too aware of how slim profits can be. Have the good grace to accept payment for your service.”
Jasper nodded, swallowing and again looking toward the crowd. “If that is your wish, then so be it. Room and board at this season is twenty-five coppers a day. The week through for a silver.”
Drake nodded. “A week at a time then. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, but it’ll probably be at least a week.”
Innkeeper Jasper nodded and retrieved the coin. “As you wish, Lord Adept.” He bowed as he stepped back, keeping his eyes on Drake the whole time.
The mayor and three distinguished looking older men cautiously approached him as he ate. “Lord Adept, may we have a moment of your time?” Drake nodded and gestured to the chairs on the opposite side of the table. There were only three, and the last man quickly hooked a fourth chair from a nearby table. “Lord Adept,” the mayor began, “we would again like to express our gratitude. Reid and his men have been terrorizing us for months. The army has been too busy with Bresardia to really make more than a token effort to capture them.”
Drake nodded. “It was my pleasure. I have no tolerance for rapists. Or bandits for that matter.” Drake paused to grin. “Renata is a lovely young woman.”
“She is that, Lord Adept. It is a pity about her husband. He was killed fighting the Bresardians two months ago,” one of the other men said, then closed his mouth abruptly when the mayor glared at him.
Drake nodded. “A young widow. Well, she’s pretty enough that she should be able to find another husband easily. If that’s what she’s looking for.”
“She is still in mourning, Lord Adept,” Mayor Springer said softly.
Drake again nodded, then changed the subject. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here in your village, Mayor Springer. I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere, and I have nothing to do for a time. Is there anything of note to see here?”
The mayor and his friends looked surprised by Drake’s question. “No, Lord Adept. We don’t have anything to attract people here except what you see: Good land and good people.”
“Good enough,” Drake said with a deep smile, then stood and offered the mayor a half bow. “I will be retiring for the night, gentlemen. If there is nothing to keep me here, then I’ll only be staying a day or two.”
The mayor had stood with Drake and returned the bow. “You are welcome for as long as you wish to stay, Lord Adept.”
* * *
Drake spent three days in the Hog’s Heaven before riding out toward the south again. Renata might have been the girl for him, but he didn’t think so. The suspicion of the mayor and his friends made Drake think there was more to her story than just losing her husband. The road beckoned, and he whistled a jaunty tune as he rode on. He had time to look about.
Chapter 2
WEEKS TURNED INTO MONTHS AS HE journeyed across the land. Vernardia was immense, and he wondered just how long it would take him to reach the sea on the opposite shore. The maps he had purchased were showing his progress, and after sixty days he was not even one third of the way across the continent. Large indeed. A range of mountains had turned him north, and he was nearing the tropics as the summer wore on.
It was near midday of a hot, sweltering summer’s day when he heard shouting in the distance. Riding cautiously forward, he looked down onto a battlefield. Men and horses milled about in a tangle of flesh and steel, shouting and cursing as they fought. Banners flew over the commanders of both armies, and horns shrilled orders to their men. Drake sat and watched for a time then directed his horse off to the side of the road and prepared to dismount. They weren’t likely to finish anytime soon, and he had no desire to join in.
“Halt where you are!” a man’s voice shouted from behind him, making him flinch.
Damn! Drake lifted his hands to his sides to show that he was unarmed, and then turned in his saddle. “I’m not a soldier.”
“A coward then?” the man said as he sneered, stepping out of the shadow of the forest. “The queen has called for all men of age to bear arms to defend the kingdom. Why aren’t you in the army?”
Drake regarded the man carefully. He was in uniform, with a sword at his belt and a short spear slung diagonally across his back. A cocked crossbow was in his hands, pointed
at Drake. “I am not of your kingdom, good sir. I am a far traveler from the Darendian Empire.”
“I know nothing of that. Ride ahead, slowly. We’ll see what the general has to say about you.” The man gestured with the crossbow toward the battle. “Don’t try to ride off neither. This bolt is faster than that nag.”
Drake nodded and started his horse forward at a slow walk. He had shielded himself as soon as the sentry had spoken, so he wasn’t concerned about the crossbow. It would take significantly more than wood and iron to reach him. Still, he was curious. Which army am I being escorted to?
The sentry guided him toward the left side of the encampment, not the center as he would have expected. When they reached the guard post, the sentry had him halt as he addressed an impressively dressed old man.
“I have another volunteer, Sergeant.”
“Now wait one damn minute!” Drake started, but the sergeant cut him off.
“Out of that saddle!” the sergeant shouted, striding forward and reaching for Drake’s leg. His hand encountered Drake’s shields and he pulled back, cursing. “Damn! What was that?” he asked as he held his jammed fingers.
Drake looked at the sergeant, then at the sentry. His voice was soft as he snarled, “I am not a volunteer.”
The sentry didn’t bother to say anything else; he simply pulled the trigger on his crossbow. The bolt flashed into vapor against Drake’s shields. The sergeant had recovered a little and drew his sword. His slash at Drake’s leg was weak, to be sure, but would have done some damage if it had landed. The sword blade suffered the same fate as the crossbow bolt, and the sergeant pulled back the hilt of his sword with just a few finger-widths of blade remaining. More men had been attracted by the commotion, and Drake felt a Mage strike at him. He almost laughed. The man can’t be much beyond an Apprentice.
“Back away! All of you back away!” a high, definitely feminine voice shouted, and Drake got a look at the other mage. She raised her hands and blasted at Drake ineffectually for a moment before giving up. “Who are you?” she demanded in an almost exasperated tone.
The Chronicles of Amberdrake Page 2