The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2)

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The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 35

by Matthew W. Harrill


  At night, when they had settled the horses in a makeshift pen, they settled down in the dark. It was cold but not unpleasantly so, for the weather was much more clement as they neared the coast. The peninsula between the Ardican estuary and the western coast was pleasant enough unless one tried to cross it in the middle of winter. At this point in time they were perhaps five leagues from the city, and shunned a hostel in favour of the rude camp they had become accustomed to. Joleen shivered against Keldron as they lay under their blankets.

  “Cold, dear?” He asked, and she snuggled closer.

  “Not really,” she replied in a sleepy voice. “Just nervous about what I will see tomorrow. I have never been in a city before.”

  Keldron took a moment to remember that even Malcolm had never visited a city the size of Leallyra. Belyn, Raoul and he would be blasé about the whole affair, having come from Eskenberg. Despite their proximity to the city, none of the others had seen any bigger settlement than the merchant's gathering point in their own forest, and that was not even a permanent affair. “Do not worry overmuch about it,” he replied after a moment. “Just stick with us, and everything will be fine. We will only be there for as long as it takes us to secure passage to Rhothamy.”

  “Rhothamy?” Joleen repeated in a tone that clearly indicated that she had never heard of the place before.

  “The main city on Caighgard,” Belyn supplied from nearby. “In fact, the only city on Caighgard and that is saying something. The island would probably take as much time to cross as we have taken since we parted from your brethren, but not many people live there.

  Joleen turned in his direction. “Do you mean that we are going to travel all that way to try and find a temple in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Hopefully not,” came the voice out of the darkness. “The temple was the first building on Rhothamy, in fact the island was named after the first high priest of the Order of Law, the man who laid the foundations for our guild. It was rumoured that the city of Caighgard was built at the temple's feet.”

  “So their magnificently elegant plan is to go to the city and look for the temple once they get there, dear sister,” came Yerdu's voice from the direction of Belyn. “Isn't it?” She asked of the men who were all listening.

  Silence ensued, an embarrassed silence that was filled with Yerdu's gleeful accusation. The stars glittered overhead where the cloud broke into wisps, and the moon cast an eerie glow over the nightscape. Off to one side, one of the horses snorted in its sleep, and still there was no answer.

  “Goodnight boys.” Came the satisfied voice of Yerdu. She had hit the nail on the head. While Malcolm contemplated the stars from a distance as he watched over the camp, three very silent and very red-faced wizards warmed the night with their embarrassed reticence.

  The next morning dawned to reveal thick banks of fog blanketing the landscape. Fog in Ciaharr was as hesitant to lift as they themselves were to get up, but the fog lingered, where they were forced to be up and about. Keldron looked about him as he watched his friends rise slowly. He had taken over from Malcolm on watch, for he knew all too well what a lack of sleep could do to a man. He himself had missed many nights sleep in his contemplation of the Night of Spears but he maintained that it had given him wisdom, though Joleen complained that all it had done was make him tightly-strung. He smiled as he saw in his mind the truth: She may be closer to him, but she was good for all of them, even Belyn, who had somehow bewitched Yerdu.

  “Great, damp firewood again,” Belyn grumbled as he got up to check the fire. He went off to relieve himself out of sight and thankfully sound of the camp, and when he returned, his face was alive with thought. “Kel, get up man. Bring your stone to the fire.”

  Keldron moaned from under his blankets, and then yelped as Joleen elbowed him in the ribs. “What is it, Belyn? Can't a man enjoy a few more moments rest?” Keldron got up with a grumble, his focus stone in hand. “Right. What is it you want of me?”

  Belyn squatted near the fire, where the bank of moisture that surrounded them had dampened the once-smouldering wood. “Create a shield down near the fire. Make it weak, and not very big, say the size of a large rock.”

  Keldron frowned at his friend. “You got me out from under the one and only warm place in this entire Duchy for that?”

  “Just do it, please.” Belyn urged with forced patience. “I am aware that nobody in his right mind enjoys being pulled from their sheets.”

  Keldron closed his eyes, raised his stone in front of him and pulled in his concentration. As always they could feel the focus build, though this was a lot tighter than normal. They had been spending so long on creating focuses on a large scale that the menial things had been ignored. “There, it is done.”

  Belyn closed his eyes and concentrated. Keldron could feel the presence of the focus beginning to dissipate already. Belyn held out the firestone and poured his will into it, becoming one with the once-molten properties. He released the smallest trickle of power from the rock, attempting to create a tiny miasma of heat. That was not what happened. Instead a needle-thin shaft of fire pierced the shield, hitting the wood and causing it to crackle into life. Belyn opened his eyes. “It works!” He crowed in triumph, causing the horses to stir from their morning meal of dew-drenched grass. The once-wet wood had dried out completely, and it blazed with enthusiasm, lighting up the dense fog with a sooty glow.

  “I hope that there are no mercenaries nearby,” cautioned Malcolm. They looked about them. The fire, as small as it was, had combined with the fog to create a beacon of torchlight in the otherwise gloomy morning.

  “Well the sooner we are up and refreshed, the sooner we can be on our way and leave this place to the fog,” Yerdu replied.

  As they had done on so many mornings before, so they did now. Belyn created his wave of heat, which dried all the blankets, and had the added bonus of drying them all out and warming them at the same time. Malcolm provided breakfast, which in this occasion was a small deer from a distant wood they had seen the night before. The unspoken question on all of their lips refused to be spoken aloud, but they all wondered when he had had the time to go hunting as he was guarding them. Raoul quietened their worries by explaining he had actually been on watch most of the night. They ate a delicious breakfast and then stored the rest of the meat in their packs, burying the remains with a traveller's blessing for good growth. After the horses had been tended to, they set off in the fog.

  “So how are we supposed to find our way through this?” Yerdu asked of nobody in particular.

  “We remember where we saw things last night, dear sister,” Joleen replied with a sunny attitude that belied their surroundings. They all rode closer this morning, so as to not lose themselves in the fog.

  “Or we just follow the road,” Raoul added. “That seems the best bet as we are on the road to the largest city on the region, it makes sense that we will actually reach that city by following the well-trodden tracks to it.”

  “A clever and original thought, from a man,” Yerdu retorted. “If you weren't already sat astride a horse I swear you would faint from the exertion.” That brought a laugh from the others, and another day of Raoul-baiting began.

  “Quiet.” Malcolm held his arm aloft. “Pull your horses over to the right of the track.”

  They did so without question, for Malcolm's only spoke at need. Not long after, a muffled series of thuds in the road ahead announced the close presence of a series of horses. In the fog, sound was hidden, and so the party was surprised when a dozen armed horsemen suddenly materialised beside them.

  “Halt, and identify yourselves,” an officious looking man in a uniform commanded.

  Belyn nudged his mount forward. “We are travellers out of the East, seeking passage on a ship from your harbour.”

  “Bound to where?” The officer asked in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

  “That really is our own business, if you don't mind,” Belyn replied.

  “Not if
you want to get into the city of Leallyra it isn't,” the officer replied.

  ”May I ask why?” Belyn enquired patiently.

  “All entrants into the city are required to provide proof of their origin and also of their intentions should they wish to be allowed in, on command of my Lord, Duke Jhander of Leallyra.” The officer replied.

  “So be it,” Belyn replied. “We three are members of the Guild of Law in Eskenberg, and our companions are from the forest Tribe of Merdon.”

  The officer narrowed his eyes, especially when 'Merdon' was mentioned. “Merdonese do not leave their forest,” he stated.

  Yerdu brought her horse forward. “That is inaccurate captain.”

  “Lieutenant, Ma'am,” the officer replied. “Lieutenant Curtis of the outbound guard. Our mandate is to check all of the roads for incoming travellers, and ward off potential threats. My Lord Duke likes order in his city.”

  “An impressive title,” she commented, “and an impressive task. This must be some city we are travelling to. Anyway, if your historians or whoever taught you about Merdonese got it right, they should have noted that we rarely leave the forest. This is one of the rare times.”

  “And what, pray tell, are you doing with three wizards?” Curtis continued.

  ”There was a spot of trouble a while back when we were crossing the mountains. These three aided us and have remained with us as we have the same destination.”

  “Which brings us back to your purpose. Where are you bound?”

  Yerdu looked at Belyn, and he spoke for the group. “We are seeking berths on a ship bound for Caighgard.”

  Curtis nodded once, satisfied. “Well Gods speed to you all. There are five ships in the harbour bound for the Isle. Three leave today, the other two tomorrow on the morning tide. Mention my name to the captain of the Grotesque, a man called Flynn, and I am sure he will see you safe.”

  “Our thanks Lieutenant Curtis,” responded Belyn. “May the Gods watch over you.” He raised his hand in a blessing.

  Curtis nodded, and led his riders out into the road, and off into the fog.

  Once they were alone, Yerdu turned in her saddle to Belyn. “What sort of man calls a ship 'Grotesque'? It had better be good, for I have no idea how I will react to a sea journey. I have heard that there are monsters at sea that can swallow someone whole.”

  Belyn laughed as they rode out into the fog, their only point of reference being the road directly in front of them. “You have heard too many tall tales. If the worst that you suffer is a bit of seasickness, then you will be doing well.”

  “If I suffer any such thing, master wizard, be sure that you will be the one paying for it.” Before Raoul could add his penny's worth, she looked over at him and said. “All of you.”

  They rode in silence for the best part of that morning, each of them wishing in silence that the fog would lift. The misty vapour gave Keldron the impression that they had not in fact gotten any further along in their journey.

  “So is this city a capital?” Yerdu asked.

  “It is,” Belyn replied. “The inhabitants of the very cosmopolitan Ulecio dispute this title. That particular city guards the straits between the mainland and the Qua'Cliran island chain, close to the Ardican estuary. As a result, the Dukes of old had granted enough favours and titles for the sister city to give itself autonomy. Ulecio had basically become an independent state, governed jointly by the people of the Duchy and the inhabitants of the island chain who had given the city its own makeover. It was reputed that it was the most colourful city in the Nine Duchies. I lament the fact that they are so close and yet at the same time much too far away to visit. As they rode, Malcolm sang softly to himself. Eventually, he joined Keldron at the rear of their little column. He said nothing, but just listened to the words. It was a song of heartbreaking sadness, about a woman that had lost her man in the mist. They had wandered far from home one day and it had caught them unawares, dropping on their hillside like a blanket. The couple had become separated, and spent a lonely and cold night on the hillside. As the song ran on, the woman found her way back to the house, but never saw her man again. She wandered the hillside for a lifetime, never getting over her sense of loss.

  When Malcolm quietened, he leaned over and put a hand on Keldron's shoulder. “A sad song. Poignant and also very relevant.”

  Malcolm looked up and around him at the fog, which was still as dense as it had been when they awoke. “It was a favourite of my wife. It's how I remember that she is out there somewhere, waiting for me to find her. In the mist it makes me feel closer to her than at any other point, for I can imagine she is going to come riding out of the mist to greet me.” He looked off into the morning. “We are nearly there.”

  Keldron peered forward. There was a dip in the road, and the impression that the mist was clearing.

  “What's up?” Belyn asked as they rode in closer from behind.

  Venla followed this very shortly. “Oh my. Isn't that beautiful.”

  A gap in the milky fog revealed a city about two miles away from them, down a fairly steep slope. The walls were a uniform height, and looked impenetrable. The rock had been clearly chosen for its uniform colour. Behind them, the city should have sprawled, as was the typical layout. Instead, it was highly regimented. Straight roads crisscrossed the city from end to end.

  “When that guard said his Duke liked things tidy and regimented, I didn't think it would extend to the entire city.” Observed Raoul.

  “I think it is cute,” Yerdu replied. “It is like a man has come up here and played with model toys until he has found what he wanted.”

  Raoul stared at her in silence, and then rode off muttering to himself about toys and perspective.”

  “Why don't we ride down and find this ship that will take us to your hidden temple then?” Yerdu said without a trace of a smile. Not waiting for an answer, she led her horse after Raoul.

  Belyn grimaced in embarrassment at her simple remark. “Do not answer her, and rue it for weeks.”

  Keldron laughed at the comment. “It is all right for me, old friend. I may share in the embarrassment, but I am not the one with the maps.”

  They rode down out of the mist to a landscape radically different to the plains. Small meadows were terraced with rock walls where they had been built up to provide more nourishment for the population. Crops had been recently planted, showing that despite the perilous situation, the land around Leallyra was indeed a hale place. It appeared to Keldron that the Duke was obviously as interested in predial matters as he was in matters of order.

  The descent remained steep until about a mile out from the city, where it levelled out. There was evidence that this too had been engineered by the city folk, for there were ditches and walls aiding drainage and dividing up the land, and the city lay in a broad bowl down to the fog-covered sea.

  Raoul rode on forward. “I'm going on to facilitate our entry into the city. Judging by the experience with the mounted guard, I think we need the time.”

  The rest let their horses walk as they enjoyed this radical difference in the lie of the land.

  “You wouldn't expect this from up above,” Keldron observed. “The whole shape of the city has been created by somebody. Most unusual”

  “What would you have expected?” Joleen asked, interested in what he had to say.

  Keldron looked around him. “Cliffs, crags, scree on the slopes right up to the city walls. Maybe a sharp waterfall or two instead of that landscaped effort over there.” Keldron pointed and they followed his aim. Way off to their left, a mist appeared on the ground, generated by a waterfall that fell several times the height of the tallest building Keldron had ever seen. The river that was its source obviously came from somewhere inland but the effect of that much water falling so far was glorious, even from the distance they were, even on a foggy day that obscured sight. The sound made it all the more impressive. “Somebody has definitely been busy.”

  They rode up to the city
walls, and met the first cityfolk. Most of them were travelling light.

  “Where are you bound?” Belyn asked one man, a tall chap carrying a hoe.

  “Just out to the fields, mate. Somebody has to keep this huge garden in order.”

  “Farmers and hired hands then,” Keldron decided.

  “Except for them,” Belyn pointed. There were perhaps a handful of people setting out to climb the difficult road and leave the city over the land track.

  As they rode up to the walls of the city, they spied Raoul leaning in an alcove talking to a pair of guards. They were laughing like old friends, and the apparently jocose nature of the men was a heartening sight.

  Raoul turned to wave them on. “Here are my friends.” He announced to the guards. “Here are Belyn Stroddick and Keldron Vass of the Guild of Law, and Yerdu, Joleen and Malcolm of the Merdonese.”

  “You have permission to enter the city.” One of the guards, a tall heavyset fellow with a jutting chin, addressed them. “From what we have heard, Captain Curtis has already grilled you enough.”

  “Captain?” Keldron said in surprise.

  “Oh that's just our name for him,” the other guard replied. This man was much slighter of build, and shorter with it. The two guards were as mismatched a pair as one could expect to meet. “As you may have seen, he is an officious fellow and he makes no secret that he wants the job of captain when the old man retires.” The smaller guard indicated a man back through the gates on a horse. “We just help him along by calling him 'captain'. It makes the low-ranks laugh, and irritates him no end. Saying that, he does it well even if he is a bit stuffy.”

 

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