Reborn Raiders (The Weatherblight Saga Book 4)

by Edmund Hughes

  The citizens moving about their daily business didn’t smile and only spoke amongst themselves in quiet voices. Ari met the eye of a woman in a long-sleeved tan dress. The man with her frowned and gently pulled the woman to his other side, as though the risk of her being attacked or kidnapped was a possibility in need of consideration.

  It was easy for Ari and the others to make their way forward, given how thin the crowds were compared to usual. At the same time, Ari felt a sense of wariness that seemed inspired by the general atmosphere, and he made sure to keep Kerys and Amber in between himself and Virgil.

  “It’s all so primitive,” said Virgil. “Truly? This is what a city of Hume looks like?”

  “It’s not a city,” said Ari. “It’s the city. The only place I know of where people congregate in these sorts of numbers.”

  It was a depressing thought, especially with the evidence of Varnas-Rav’s destruction sitting within sight of the city walls. The people were right to be scared, but Ari didn’t think their fear justified turning away the refugees on their doorstep.

  He could tell from the general silence of Amber and Kerys that they were having similar thoughts. It almost felt as though Cliffhaven was already under siege, at war with an enemy that may as well have won before the first battle. There was nowhere for the people to run, either, given that they’d be facing the Sai on top of the ever present, cycling threat of the Weatherblight.

  “There’s a festival tomorrow night, if you can believe it,” said Amber. “The Season’s End Gathering.”

  “Must be why everyone is in such a good mood,” said Ari, dryly.

  “The people are aware of the situation,” said Amber. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Baron and the nobles try to make this year’s Season’s End a larger affair than normal, for the sake of trying to take the minds of the commoners off, well, you know.”

  “Makes sense,” said Ari.

  She shrugged. “It’s a mockery of what Season’s End is supposed to represent. It was once a holiday that paid homage to the founders of the city and gave thanks for good weather and the safety of the city. It’s almost as though the Baron wants to make the refugees into a ritual sacrifice of some sort.”

  “And I thought I was good at jumping to dark conclusions,” said Ari.

  “It’s good for us, though, isn’t it?” asked Kerys. “With all the activity, it’ll be that much easier to avoid drawing attention.”

  “I admire you for your optimism, Kerys,” said Amber. “Come on. We’ll need a place to stay tonight, and I think I know somewhere fitting.”

  Cliffhaven was divided into several different quarters. The merchant quarter included most of the center of the city, while the lower quarter comprised the southwest section up against the wall. It was where Amber’s house was located, but she led them a few streets north of the path there, through an alleyway to a busy intersection that was one of the few crowded sections of the city Ari had seen so far.

  Amber stopped in front of a long, single story building with a sign out front made from tree branch lettering that read “Cornerside Bunkhouse”. She pushed the door open and led the group into a cozy common room with a crackling hearth. An elderly woman was stirring a pot hanging over the fire with slow, somewhat restricted movements.

  “Hello Demira,” said Amber. “How have you been?”

  The woman turned and immediately gasped when she saw Amber. She did her best to hurry over, though she was clearly at the age where even the simple act of walking took effort. Amber wrapped her in a gentle hug for a few seconds before gesturing to Ari and the others.

  “These are my friends,” said Amber. “Aristial, Kerys, and Virgil. They’ll be needing a place to stay tonight.”

  “Your what?” asked Demira in an overly loud voice. “Sorry, my hearing is not as the founders intended anymore, no, no, no.”

  “My friends,” said Amber, slowly and loudly enunciating. “They’re looking for a room.”

  “A broom?” shouted Demira. “Oh no, dear, I can still sweep just fine. I’m not helpless.”

  Amber sighed and dug out her coin purse, placing a few coppers into Demira’s hand that seemed to get her message across better than her words. Demira led them down the hall and through a door to the left. The singular room was long, with half a dozen carefully made beds, each with its own urn of washwater.

  “This will do nicely,” said Ari. “We still have a lot to take care of before this evening, though.”

  “Here,” said Amber. She drew the dagger she’d brought into the city for him and tossed it down onto one of the beds. “I need to head back to my house to gather up my alchemy equipment. I didn’t have a chance to grab my things when I originally left the city.”

  “That should be fine,” said Ari. “The rest of us will head into the market quarter and see about selling the enchanted items in the meantime.”

  “Actually, I think it would be smarter if I went and caught up with some of the people we knew in the city,” said Kerys. “We need all the information we can get on the situation with the Ravarians and what can be done about it.”

  “On your own?” asked Ari.

  “Sure,” said Kerys. “I lived here for over a month, Ari. I’ve walked the streets by myself before.”

  “That’s true, it’s just…” Ari rubbed his shoulder and frowned at her.

  Her hair hung in its usual black and gold ponytail, and the maroon dress she was wearing wasn’t immodest by any means, but it was impossible for him to see her without thinking of how vulnerable she was. She was an attractive woman with a prominent injury in a crowded city. His imagination could fill in the gaps of what might happen to her with a surprising amount of detail if she ran into the wrong person.

  “I don’t mind accompanying Lady Kerys,” said Virgil, standing up a little straighter.

  “I mind,” said Kerys. “I can handle myself in Cliffhaven better than either of you. I’ll be back here by suppertime, I promise.”

  Ari sighed. “Fine. But be careful. And keep your ears open for any word that relates to the situation of the refugees.”

  “I’m sure Baron Luka’s stated reason for denying them entry relates back to the poisoning of the previous Baron,” said Amber. “It’s ambitious, but you might stand a chance at swaying his opinion or appealing to the other influential leaders in the city if you had a way to prove that the Ravarians, and by extension, you, yourself, were not involved.”

  “You sound as though you have an idea about that,” said Ari.

  Amber nodded. “I’ll ask around. There aren’t many other alchemists in the city, and no doubt one of them sold the poison that killed Baron Ogwell. I might be able to track whoever it was down, and assuming you can get them to implicate Baron Luka, you’ll have options.”

  Ari wasn’t so sure if it would be that easy, but he nodded, knowing that it made sense to at least look into it.

  “Okay,” he said. “In the meantime, Virgil, Eva, and I will head to the market district.”

  CHAPTER 31

  A cold wind whistled through the streets as they made their way back outside. Kerys and Amber split off from Ari and the others, heading in separate directions down different streets.

  It felt strange to watch Kerys walking away and then disappearing down the corner, knowing that after a minute or two it would be nearly impossible to find her if he had to in the sprawling city. For some reason, Ari found it hard to shake the thought that it could very well be the last time he ever saw her.

  “What is wrong?” asked Eva, through the bond. “Has something happened?”

  “No,” he whispered. “Sorry. Let’s get moving.”

  He gestured for Virgil to follow him and began heading down the street with long strides, letting the surrounding area distract him from his unnecessary separation anxiety. It was close to midday, but the sky was overcast, choking the sun’s light out into a wan glaze.

  A few beggars sat outside on street corners, or on the stoo
ps of abandoned buildings. A few of them glanced up at Ari hopefully, but Azurelight’s presence across his shoulders was clearly enough to keep them from risking offending him with appeals for coin.

  “This… is improper,” said Virgil. “Those men were so dirty. One of them wasn’t even wearing shoes, did you see that?”

  “It’s just how things are in Cliffhaven,” said Ari. “You can’t live if you don’t have money. Even the act of entering the city has a price.”

  “It’s one these men clearly cannot afford to pay,” said Virgil. “It was never like this in the Saidican Empire. Any man, Sai, Hume, or Ravarian who fell upon such hard times would have options apart from suffering in the street.”

  “Oh yes,” said Ari, with a sardonic smile. “I’m sure those beggars would much prefer the option of tracking down their local slaver and offering to exchange their freedom for a hot meal and a bath.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” said Virgil.

  “Isn’t it, though?” Ari shrugged. “Things were different in the Hollow, the community where I grew up, too. Nobody went without shoes. Everybody had food, a bed, and a place. But we paid a cost for it, too. I paid the cost for it, under the prophet Dormiar’s gaze.”

  He shook his head. Virgil had an eyebrow raised. The two of them split apart slightly to walk around a noblewoman who looked as though she’d started drinking wine early in the day, and Ari followed his thought up as they drew back together.

  “Cliffhaven is what a city looks like when that cost isn’t being paid,” he said. “They have their wall. They have the Baron and his guards, the rule of law. I guess they decided that they didn’t owe their people anything more.”

  “Do you think that’s fair?” asked Virgil. “Is that how you plan to oversee Etheria, assuming the community continues to grow?”

  Ari grinned. “That’s a question that can wait for a time when there isn’t an army headed for our doorstep.”

  The merchant quarter was still fairly active, though there was a clear disparity between merchants with goods to sell and interested parties willing to part with the gold to buy them. Market stalls with tables laden with food, hanging racks for clothing, crates of miscellaneous tools and supplies were, in many cases, watched over by bored traders and hired guardsman.

  Two out of every three stalls were empty, aside from their minders. Ari heard a few merchants shouting “milord” and “good sir” at him as he made his way through the square, looking for what, or rather, who, he needed.

  He found Morwin arranging a weapon display in his open air shop, just around the corner from the main market square. Morwin was completely bald, short, with stout shoulders and arms as thick around as cudgels. Ari grinned at him, and the old smith seemed to recognize him after a couple of seconds.

  “Aye,” said Morwin. “How did that sword end up treating you?”

  “Well enough,” said Ari, remembering the short period of time he’d possessed the emerald sword for. “How’s business?”

  “Could be better,” said Morwin. “Could be a lot worse, too. Founder’s bones, all of my regular blades have sold at a standstill, but the nobles and the Baron have been making specialty commissions to even things out.”

  “If that’s the case, I think you’ll be interested in seeing what I have with me,” said Ari. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”

  Morwin brought them inside the interior of his shop, which had a small bed in one corner along with a washwater basin and scattered clothing. He frowned and raised an eyebrow at Ari as he slowly drew Azurelight.

  “Is that blade for sale?” he asked.

  Ari chuckled. “No. Also, I’d prefer if you kept this between the two of us.”

  Light flashed, and Eva appeared in her incarnate form, her arms still wrapped around the extra weapons she’d smuggled into the city. Her silver-blue hair was twisted into a tight bun, and she wore one of Ari’s borrowed tunics and black leggings.

  There was a risk in having Eva reveal herself to the smith, but it was one that Ari had considered. He knew that the fact that Morwin had taken a commission for him before would incline the man toward avoiding drawing attention to Ari, assuming he made the connection of who he was.

  “A sword that turns into a woman,” muttered Morwin. “A beautiful woman, at that. Er, I don’t intend to offend, milady, it’s just that you’re… you’re so…”

  The smith blushed, and the red spread through his cheeks and across his bald head.

  “No offense taken, good sir,” said Eva, with a nod.

  “These are what we came to show you,” said Ari. “I’m an enchanter, Morwin. It doesn’t seem like it’s an all-too-common talent in Cliffhaven, so I figured I’d see if I could find a market for my wares here.”

  “Not common in the slightest,” said Morwin, accepting the dagger as Ari proffered it. “The last few Barons have kept tight control on enchanted items. Easier for them to seize magical weapons and armor and lock them up rather than engage in an arms race for the most powerful equipment, especially given how rare the stuff is.”

  Morwin gave the dagger a small, experimental swing, flinching back and almost dropping it as the enchantment triggered. The glimmer expanded outward with a burst of magical energy, momentarily blinding Ari and eliciting a startled noise from Virgil.

  “The rest have the same enchantment,” said Ari, spreading out the swords Eva had been carrying and the other daggers across the floor. “It does a small amount of damage, blinds temporarily, and has quite the surprise factor.”

  “You said you made these?” said Morwin. “How can that be true? The last enchanters were said to have died with the Saidican Empire.”

  “It’s a long story,” said Ari. “For now, just know that the items I bring you are quality and should fetch a nice markup if you can find discreet buyers for them.”

  “That they will.” Morwin let out a laugh and nodded his head. “Oh yes. I could do, say… twenty-five gold for the swords and ten for the daggers.”

  “Do you mean for all of them together, or…?”

  “Twenty-five and ten a piece,” said Morwin.

  CHAPTER 32

  Ari left the smith with his coin purse full to the point of bursting. The total had been ninety gold, a small fortune and more than enough to hire the mercenaries he needed. Eva had shifted back into her sword form, and Virgil walked alongside Ari as they headed back through the merchant’s quarter.

  “I would have liked to have kept one of the swords,” mumbled Virgil.

  “You should have said something earlier,” said Ari. “Though really, if you feel like you want a weapon, I can always enchant you another. I still have the pattern for the glimmer stored within my enchanting altar.”

  “Really?” Virgil grinned at him. “I’ll keep my eyes open for a suitable blade, then.”

  Ari didn’t head straight back to the Cornerside Bunkhouse. Instead, he set his sights on a building he’d seen while passing through the market square earlier. It was near the southern edge, off to the side, apart from the merchant stalls and vendors.

  The sign out front read “The Storm Scouts Guild.” Ari was familiar with the concept of storm scouts, adventurers who traveled with scavengers and farmers outside the city wall. They would travel ahead, keeping close eye on the sky, helping plot a route that would keep a group safe from the Weatherblight.

  It was the sort of job that attracted mercenaries due to its tumultuous and unpredictable nature, and Ari suspected he’d be able to find the type of help he needed within the guild hall, or at least a tip on where to look next. He motioned to Virgil, leading him past two tired-looking swordsmen who stood at the bottom of the building’s steps.

  The Storm Scouts’ Guild hall was sparsely furnished, though most of the walls were covered with maps, sign-up sheets, and crude sketches of the Weatherblight. A woman with pale blonde hair and a wrinkled face sat behind a counter in the corner of the room. A group of men clad in leather armor with b
ows and short swords sat playing a card game off to the side, and a small kettle of water hung over the coals in the hearth’s dwindling fire.

  All eyes turned toward Ari as he took his first few steps into the room. He nodded toward the group to the side and then headed for the counter.

  “Hi,” he said, to the woman. “I’m not sure if this is the right place for me to inquire, but I’m interested in hiring some mercenaries.”

  The woman was reading a book and didn’t glance up as she spoke. “The Guild has got none available. They’ve all been contracted out, I’m afraid.”

  “All of them?” asked Ari. He raised an eyebrow at the men in the corner.

  “All of them, to a man,” said the woman. “Those three are Guild officers, and they aren’t available for hire. The rest of the mercenaries and storm scouts that take contracts are currently in the employ of the Baron.”

  Ari frowned and tapped a finger on the counter. “Is he planning on attacking the Sai, then? Or were they hired to defend the city?”

  “What business is that of yours?”

  A sharp, patronizingly articulate voice sounded from the door behind Ari. He turned around and caught sight of a tall black-haired man with dark skin and a gleaming silver breast plate. The man had the look of a guard captain or perhaps a well-off private mercenary, and the confidence he strode into the room with set Ari on edge.

  “It was a simple question,” said Ari. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

  “And who gave you the right to ask questions?” snapped the man.

  “Would it bother you if I answered that question with another question?” asked Ari.

  The man stared at him. “You aren’t funny.”

  He reached down and drew his sword, a thin longsword with a hilt that looked more decorative than practical.

  “Aristial…” said Eva. “The last thing to serve your goals at the current moment would be getting into a pointless fight.”

  “Your breast plate is really shiny,” said Ari. “Not a scratch on it. Truly, you must be some warrior!”