Tribe Master

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Tribe Master Page 9

by Noah Layton


  We bid each other good morning, and from Tormus there wasn’t even a look regarding our conversation from the night before. It was done, and we were past it.

  ‘You two start early, huh?’

  ‘The day is a blessing master,’ Eri said. ‘We must drink up as much of its glory as we can.’

  ‘Right,’ I smiled. ‘There’s water in the well if you need it. I and my companions will be heading out for the day, and we will be taking our prisoner with us. What I really came over to ask for was your knowledge.’

  ‘Our knowledge, master?’ Tormus said.

  ‘You mentioned yesterday that Eri is a specialist with farming.’ I turned to her. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Perhaps not a specialist, but I would like to think I am quite familiar with the subject.’

  ‘The price of corn has dropped. I’m looking to replace it with something else. Have you got any suggestions?’

  ‘Why, yes. Several, actually. Would you care to take a look?’

  I sat by Eri on a blanket she had laid down upon the dried dirt. Before us, neatly arranged on two separate pieces of cloth, were two piles of seeds.

  ‘This is tomato seed,’ she said. ‘It produces-’

  ‘I know what tomatoes are,’ I smiled. ‘How much do you have?’

  ‘Enough for a few rows. We can spread and grow, but we can only create a small amount at present.’

  ‘Okay. What about this?’

  ‘This is moonseed,’ she said, pointing to the one on the right. ‘It flowers only when Agraria’s moon casts its light upon it, and only when it is full.’

  ‘What can you tell me about the plant?’

  ‘It is a crucial ingredient added to many foods to increase its potency. It makes the mind wander and brings a smile to the face of the user.’

  I nodded to myself, clicking on to what this stuff was. I didn’t know if the people of Agraria had a name for this type of thing, but I knew what I was being told about.

  It was a psychedelic drug.

  ‘Is it widely used?’

  ‘Across the whole land,’ Tormus added. ‘But it is precarious in its growth. It requires the right conditions, the right nurturing, and only flowers in small amounts.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Eri continued. ‘It is also difficult to expand its growth. Flowering buds only occasionally give off additional seeds. This is why it is so rare, and what makes it so valuable.’

  ‘Well, we were getting 1GP for a stack of 10 portions of corn. Now its 0.2. How much is moonseed worth?’

  ‘10GP.’

  ‘Per stack?!’

  ‘Per portion, Master Jack.’

  My eyes went wide at the prospect. 30 of these little seeds, properly grown and harvested, would bring in the same amount of gold as 3000 portions of corn.

  But this was different. It wasn’t about hacking ferociously at stalks until my muscles ached. It took time and care and attention to detail.

  ‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Tormus, I want you to start uprooting corn. Place it in storage and begin planting whatever tomato seed we have available in its place. I’ll pick up some more from Ichabod’s Cove if I find any. Eri, start growing the moonseed. I want this to be your focus from now on. Is there anything you need to help them grow?’

  ‘They crave warthog manure,’ Eri said. ‘If you happen to come across any, either from a trader or in your travels, it would be very beneficial.’

  ‘Got it.’ I nodded to them both and moved to go before spinning on my heel and returning to them. ‘One last thing – are you two armed?’

  ‘Of course not, master,’ Tormus said. ‘The bandits took almost everything we had save for these seeds.’

  I retrieved the worn sword and worn axe that I had taken from the bandits and leaned them up against the shack.

  ‘Just in case you need them,’ I added. ‘We are pretty well-hidden out here, but you never know what lurks in the wilds. They’re not strong weapons but they’ll do the job. We’ll be back as soon as possible.’

  At the opposite end of the land to the road that led to the trading post was another road. It was just as well-covered by shrubbery and branches, and after guiding the horse and cart through and finding the right direction, we were well on our way to our destination.

  ‘Seeing as this is a long journey,’ I started. ‘Now would be a great time to ask about Agraria. I hardly know a thing about this place that I’ve been pulled into.’

  ‘Nothing at all, master?’ Ariadne said.

  ‘Well, beyond starter information and being a closet-warmonger, and a hell of an advisor, Alorion’s knowledge is pretty limited. Has Agraria always been split up into tribes?’

  ‘Always, but tribes change,’ she said. ‘Years ago, in the time of my elders, the tribes began to come together into bigger and bigger groups, until eventually there were only three. The Ogrog Nation, M’Kalla and the Rorians.

  ‘Each was led by a fierce tribe master, masters who became more like kings considering their wealth, and their only goal was total domination over Agraria. They feigned agreement for a time until tensions along borders became too much and total war broke out.

  ‘It shook the foundations of Agraria. The kings may have seen themselves as the leaders, but it was fire and smoke and blood that reigned supreme over the land for years.’

  ‘Who won?’

  ‘No one. By the end there was nothing left. The land has spent decades recovering from this plight. All seemed lost, but the people of Agraria are strong. All, no matter their race or creed or beliefs, continued to push forwards.’

  ‘Do you ever think something like that will happen again?’

  ‘Anything is possible, master. We all try not to repeat our pasts, but sometimes it is inevitable. After the war citizens lived in small collectives that could not even be called tribes.’

  ‘But they do now, right?’

  ‘They do, but they are nowhere near as large in size. And a tribe is only as strong as its leader. Some people in Agraria show blind loyalty to their tribal leaders, but others know their power. They know that if a leader is not acting in the tribe’s interest, they can be overthrown.’

  ‘The same thing happens in my world, at least sometimes,’ I said. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  ‘Wars rarely happen between tribes anymore, though,’ Ariadne continued. ‘Many alive now remember the damage that was caused. But once those memories fade, things may begin again. It happened to me.’

  ‘Look on the pleasant side of things,’ Alorion said. ‘You could go insane and set the place on fire before that happens, just like Master Marlo.’

  ‘That also happens in my world,’ I said. ‘There’s a city called Rome. Still standing now, but 2000 years ago the emperor played a fiddle while it burned to the ground. Some even say that it was the emperor himself who started the fire.’

  ‘What else can you tell us about your world?’ Ariadne asked.

  ‘If my phone still worked I would be able to tell you whatever you wanted to know. Even if I did I wouldn’t have access to the internet here, though…’

  ‘What is inter-net?’ Alorion asked.

  ‘It was… Like a book in your pocket. And it contained all of the information that everybody had ever gathered, ever.’

  ‘How would somebody carry a book so large in their pocket?’

  ‘It wasn’t large. You could view it all on something as small as your hand.’

  ‘Your hand?’ Alorion exclaimed, examining his palm. ‘Not to insult you, Master Jack, but the people in your world must have been half-wits if all of your information could be stored in something as small as your hand… Either that or gigantic hands.’

  ***

  It was around ten miles to Ichabod’s Cove, and seven of those were spent trying to explain the internet to Ariadne and Alorion.

  Despite the fact that they had digital interfaces in their world, the actual capabilities of them were less about complexity and more about practicality.

&nb
sp; They were impressive to look at and use, but the tasks they carried out were basic when I thought about it; build something, trade something, agree to something.

  In the final few miles leading up to the cove the road became not only wider but busier. Various caravans with groups of traders were all heading in the same direction.

  Little mind was paid to us, and we gave very little to them, but in the presence of so many people dotted along the path we all kept our guard up.

  ‘You ever been to this place before, Ariadne?’

  ‘I cannot say that I have, master, but I have heard of it.’

  It was early afternoon when the trees began to thin, letting in the searing sunlight. We had been moving on an incline for some time and I could always see the road ahead, but now it was beginning to level, and up ahead all I could see was the immaculate blueness of the sky.

  There seemed to be a gigantic misshapen doorframe that framed the way up ahead, right at the point where the land tapered off.

  As we got closer I had to stop my mouth from falling open at what it actually was. We were stepping through the upper half of a gigantic jaw bone that once belonged to some huge sea-faring monster.

  I ventured to say a whale, but I had seen them in the wild before, and this was twice as big.

  ‘We’re here,’ Alorion announced.

  The shadow of the jawbone passed as we moved beneath it, and I looked out at Ichabod’s Cove.

  We were standing on a cliff edge that looked out onto a cove a quarter of a mile long from where we stood to the other side. It was awe-inspiring to look at; the water glistened within a semi-oval that was surrounded by structures of grey and brown brick all built into the cliffside, growing outwards into the water the closer they were to the bottom.

  The water itself was scattered with merchant vessels of varying size, most docked against the lowest level of brick that formed the base of the cove, but with plenty of others anchored in the centre.

  Wood and stone boardwalks were scattered amongst the structures, a disorganised mess of passages and paths and routes from building to building. People bustled from path to path like ants. The only discerning factor between the buildings was the occasional swinging sign hooked above front doors with symbols and indiscernible words inscribed.

  It was one of the most incredible places I had ever seen.

  ‘Marwarga!’

  The yell came from behind. One of the caravans had been held up by my gaping at the scale of the place, and one of three goblins behind me had quickly lost his temper.

  We moved on, controlling the descent of the horse and cart as we made our way down the cliffside along a series of alternating ramps that moved back and forth several times until we arrived onto the lowest pathway that gave onto the water six or seven yards away.

  In the shade of a large canopy extended from the cliffside were rows of horses and carts chewing on hay and drinking from a huge trough of water. In return for 1GP an elderly man whose skin was drenched in sun-splattered wrinkles took the reins of the horse and hitched it, as well as the cart, to a nearby post.

  After untying Coron’s ankles and pulling him from the back of the cart, I and my party ventured into the depths of Ichabod’s Cove.

  ‘Is there a reason you brought me here?’ Coron asked, looking around at the three of us.

  ‘Yes,’ I said flatly. ‘I haven’t got any reason to lie to you.’

  ‘What… What are you going to do with me?’

  ‘Nothing bad. I promise.’

  I had a decent stash of almost 700GP in my inventory, but my to-do list was long enough, and Coron had to be dealt with before we continued.

  I had been hopeful that there would be plenty of traders in the area and I wasn’t wrong, but the ships were a blessing if I had ever seen one, and gave me a whole new idea.

  Ariadne and Alorion looked after Coron while I made my way from boardwalk to boardwalk that connected the ships to the cove’s edge.

  I hadn’t showered in days, but the smells given off by the sailors that guarded the ships made me feel like a clean-freak. Salt and fish and dampness overwhelmed the air, and most of the guards, each a different species to the last, only snarled at me as I passed.

  Finally I met a human sailor who gave me nothing but a curious expression at first. It took a few minutes of straight-talking discussion to come to an agreement. I ushered my companions over, pulling Coron along with them.

  The sailor looked Coron up and down for a few moments before nodding and shaking hands with me. I agreed to the terms and untied Coron.

  ‘What’s going on?’ He asked sceptically.

  ‘I’m giving you a new home.’

  ‘With who?’

  ‘Who do you think?’

  ‘No… No, not on a merchant ship. I can’t!’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I get seasick.’

  ‘Yeah, and I’m sick of people trying to murder me. We all have things that make us sick, but sometimes we’ve got to deal with it.’

  Coron suddenly became shifty. He turned to run. I grabbed him by the collar of his grubby shirt, both of us falling to the ground.

  I grabbed his shirt with both hands and looked him dead in the eye.

  ‘I could have killed you twice already. I could have let somebody else do it last night. In fact, there was a moment where I was considering letting him do it. But I didn’t. Know why? Because I’m the only person in this world who thinks you’re worth something.

  ‘Now it’s not just me. This guy thinks so too. You can do something with your life, man. You can learn a skill. You can become good at something. You can become… somebody. Or you can drift from place to place on the backroads, robbing people until someone pulls a knife and stabs you to death. So what’s it going to be?’

  Coron’s eyes became wet once again. He was about to cry, but something within his gut stopped him.

  ‘All right,’ I continued. ‘Now get up and stop making an ass out of yourself.’

  I let go of his collar and stepped back. Coron pushed himself to his feet and gave us one last look before nodding at the captain and heading past him, onto the boat.

  ‘That was a noble thing to do,’ Alorion said. ‘Are you not afraid that he might one day come back? He is one of the only people outside of our tribe who knows where our land is.’

  ‘He won’t be back. The only reason he did any of that was because he was on a bad path. This will be good for him. Anyway, let’s get to business. We’ve got a lot do.’

  Together we traversed the rows of the cove, moving amongst the scattered bustlings of wolfen-headed humanoids, of goblins and even creatures that I hadn’t seen at the trading post; elves standing eight-feet tall with impossibly slender bodies and purple-tinged skin, even a trio of satyrs with huge bodies and stern expressions.

  Just like the fights I had been involved with, seeing them in reality was much grislier. Most were not graceful, aesthetic beings – they were hardened, aggressive and defensive, but in a world such as this I couldn’t exactly blame them.

  Among the rabble of stores and merchants we found an open-front stall larger than the others that was supplying building wares. We purchased enough stone and wood to create two stone family homes for 280GP, ferrying it back to the cart in a few trips. Afterwards we found a small farming vendor that provided us with several stacks of tomato seeds and warthog manure for 20GP.

  As we wandered the pathways and routes of the cove, we stopped off at a vendor in a quieter area in the upper levels selling smoked meat sizzling on kebab sticks. I was waytoo hungry not to buy some.

  ‘Should I ask what this is?’ I said, biting into mine before getting an answer.

  ‘Boar,’ Ariadne said. ‘Quite tender, too.’

  ‘That’s good. I know what boar is.’

  ‘We do face something of a problem, now,’ Alorion said, chewing happily at his kebab as we looked over the cove from the edge of a row, leaning on the railing. ‘Necromancers are diff
icult to find. They are not accepted by many due to their powers.’

  ‘So I’m guessing we can’t find one at any old vendor, huh?’

  ‘Not quite. We will have to do it some other way.’

  ‘Information is a commodity just like any other, Master Jack,’ Ariadne added. ‘If we wish to find the location of a necromancer we must perhaps trade something for the knowledge we seek. It’s just a case of where to look.’

  Finishing our kebabs we continued through more of the cove’s passageways. Among the mass of noise and garbled dealings between traders, vendors and people just having conversations in the street, I heard a song for the first time since I had arrived here.

  The sound of a twanging guitar and a simple, repetitive drumbeat was coming from a nearby building. It was simultaneously hidden and prominent, set back into the shadows of two neighbouring buildings and thriving with life and sound.

  A pair of large saloon doors were the only thing that separated the innards from the outside world.

  Those, and the gigantic, eight-feet tall 390lb humanoid beast that stood outside the door. His arms were crossed over his huge, muscular chest, his entire body barely contained by a shoddy suit minus the waistcoat.

  Above the beast’s head was one of many swinging signs that populated Ichabod’s Cove. Below a faded mural of a goblin with a flagon of mead in hand sat atop a bucking horse were the words The Drunken Steed.

  ‘A troll!’ Ariadne whispered loudly in my ear. ‘It is best that we do not anger him, master. They are irritable in their behaviour.’

  I wondered if there was some password that we would have to give or if he was going to check us for weapons, but after silently looking the three of us up and down and assessing us to not be a threat, the troll stepped aside.

  A wall of noise hit us the moment we stepped into the tavern. The room was awash with smoke from a herb I had never smelled before and the floor was splattered with liquor and mead.

  A bar manned by a dwarf with a gigantic beard was set against the opposite side of the room. A myriad shelves behind him were lined with half-filled bottles of a hundred different liquids.

  Tables filled with hysterical drinkers of all species were crammed in amongst the tavern floor. It was evident from the laughter and shouting that they were responsible for the half-full bottles. On the right-hand corner was the source of the music; a trio of goblins playing instruments.

 

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