by A. C. Cobble
“Everyone gets lucky once.” Ben chuckled. “I spoke fast and got you out of there before you had time to think about it.”
“I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” insisted Amelie. She stopped and wrapped her arms around Ben, pulling him close. “You’re a very persuasive character. In fact, there’s a few other unsavory things you’ve talked me into since then.”
He bent down to kiss her, forgetting everything he’d been worried about.
8
The Hammer
They left Frisay the same way they came in, through the narrow passageway in the wall.
“Gunther,” asked Corinne, “I am curious. How was this wall built so quickly? It’s as thick and sturdy as any fortification I’ve seen. The Dirhadji said it was raised in a matter of months.”
The big man filled the passageway in front of them, his shoulders nearly brushing against the walls as they walked.
“I needed a place to stay,” he rumbled as they exited into the bright, desert sun.
“What do you mean you needed a place to stay?” pressed Corinne.
“What does it sound like I meant?” growled the mage.
Ben was quickly realizing that the big man was not a morning person.
“I was concerned the Purple were on the verge of a breakthrough, and I wanted to keep an eye on them in case I needed to intercede. I got tired of the lords and uppity merchants in Ooswam pestering me, so I came out to the desert. I’m not a savage. I didn’t plan to spend the next couple of decades in a tent.”
Thyr coughed.
“Sorry I called you a savage,” said Gunther, “but you have to admit, your people do eschew the modern comforts, things like walls, roofs, a place to shit without having to dig a hole first. Once you enjoy those amenities, it’s hard to go back. I built this place so I could have all of those nice things and so people could come live near me. With proper infrastructure, we were able to form a functioning society. You should try it.”
“Are you saying you built this place in a couple of months?” questioned Thyr disbelievingly. “Built an entire city in a few short months?”
“Not all at once,” responded Gunther. “I built about a quarter of this in a few months. I’ve been adding to it over the years since then.”
Ben looked back and saw Towaal’s tight face. Behind her, the fused stone of Frisay rose straight up into the cloudless sky. It was clear from Towaal’s look she was having difficulty understanding the power required to raise a city from rock and sand. A mage with that kind of power was a force to be reckoned with.
“What are the faces on the gates for?” asked Ben.
“Warnings,” snapped Gunther.
The big mage’s strides lengthened, and Ben and his companions took the signal that he did not want to discuss it further. They scampered behind the man, walking across the broken rock and sand that surrounded Frisay.
Gunther had been close-lipped about where he was taking them, but Ben knew they were headed west, skirting the line between the deep desert and civilization.
After a couple of leagues, Thyr broke away and turned south. The Dirhadji had wives waiting for him, and with Gunther’s guidance, they no longer needed his assistance.
Earlier that morning, Ben had asked the man if he’d located the place they could find the strangers. If it didn’t work out with Gunther, Ben wanted a backup.
The desert warrior had merely stated, “West.”
Under his breath, he’d also muttered something about Raim. Ben recalled that his friend Raim was going to do business with the strangers. Ben asked about it, but Thyr merely shook his head and changed the subject.
As he watched Thyr’s back disappear into the harsh landscape, Ben pondered whether the strangers and the Purple were one in the same. If so, what kind of business were the Dirhadji doing with them that they would be so closed-lipped about?
“He turned out to be a good man,” remarked Amelie to Ben.
Ben frowned. Thyr had helped them but not for their sakes. The Dirhadji had his own motivations. They weren’t the only ones keeping secrets.
O’ecca snorted. She’d never forgiven the man for his initial drunken attack.
Milo caught up to them and they all turned his way. It was rare that the shy apprentice did not hide at the back of the party.
“Do you see his hammer?” he whispered, cutting his gaze toward Gunther.
Ben glanced at Gunther then back at Milo. Of course he’d seen the hammer. It was the size of a small person.
The giant mage had the huge black-iron weapon resting on his shoulder. Flickers of red and orange curled across it like slow-moving tongues of flame.
“There’s more light on it today,” murmured O’ecca. “I do not understand magic. What does it mean?”
Amelie shrugged. “I am no expert on magical devices.”
“It’s gathering energy,” claimed Milo.
Ben looked at the timid young man. “How do you know?”
Milo shook his loose mop of curls. “I can feel it. A growing sense of… potential. It’s not coming from him, though. He’s somehow tapped another source of energy, something stronger than anything I’ve felt before.”
“The void between the worlds?” wondered Amelie. “That is what the Purple were after.”
Milo adjusted his pack and kept his gaze fixed on Gunther. “I don’t know. Keep an eye on him, and let me know what you sense. Maybe you’re right, and there is a reason he knows so much about the Purple’s weapon.”
The former apprentice fell back to his customary position at the tail of their group.
Amelie met Ben’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged.
O’ecca adjusted the turban she’d wrapped around her head and complained, “Frisay did not have the comforts of home, but in a short time, I’d gotten used to being out of this sand and heat.”
“It hasn’t been easy, has it?” agreed Ben.
“This better be worth it,” grumbled the lady. “If not, I will hold you responsible. There is much I could be doing at home to help my father.”
Ben sighed and kept walking.
That evening, they erected a handful of tarps to create a rough wind-break. They sat around their sparse campsite, watching the sun fall below the horizon.
There was no wood for fire so no hot meal. Nothing to prepare except to fiddle with the tarps and spread out their bed rolls. They’d restocked in Frisay, and had an ample supply of travel rations. Ben chewed morosely at a tough piece of ostrich jerky. An ample supply of the stuff may not be a good thing, he thought.
He jumped when Gunther settled down next to him and Amelie.
“Mistress Albie told me she’d seen you before in the north.”
Ben nodded slowly, swallowing a half-chewed wad of meat.
“Tell me what happened there,” instructed the mage.
Ben glanced at Amelie before answering. “We passed through Free State on the way to the Wilds. We were up there looking for a rift, which the Purple created to meter the flow of demons into our world. We thought we could shut it off and help protect Northport.”
“I’m familiar with the Rift,” responded Gunther. “Tell me about the people in Free State. What happened to them?”
“They died,” Ben stated simply.
“I was worried about that,” rumbled Gunther. “The Wilds is no place for a colony. By the time I heard they’d left for there, it was too late. The younger generations are overly eager sometimes. They do not think things through. There is no point running away from the lords if you head directly into peril. I wish I could have stopped them.”
“Stop them?” asked Ben.
The mage nodded.
“Would they have listened to you?” queried Amelie.
“I would have made them listen,” declared Gunther softly. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
“I thought the point of Free State was that they made their own decisions,” remarked Ben.
A bitter smirk crawled across Gunther’s face. “That is true. Maybe you are right. Maybe they wouldn’t have listened, even to me.”
“Did they know who you are?” asked Amelie.
Gunther shook his head in the negative.
“In my experience,” added Ben, “the people of Free State are highly independent. If anyone told them what to do, they’d be more likely to do the opposite.”
“Your experience with Free State?” questioned Gunther. “Mistress Albie told me you spent one night there.”
“We stopped in a Free State outside of the City too,” stated Ben. “It was also just one night, but we spent most of the time speaking to a man named Myland. He seemed to the be the leader, though, he wouldn’t let anyone call him that. He explained the philosophy of Free State to us.”
“Myland,” murmured Gunther. “I haven’t seen him for years, not since he went off to start his colony. That fool loved the idea of building it in the shadow of the City. That’s what I’m talking about. Directly into peril.”
“You know Myland?” asked Amelie.
Gunther chuckled. “I’m the one who gave him that name. You don’t think his parents did that, did you?”
Ben sat back, thinking.
“How is he doing?” wondered Gunther.
Amelie shrugged. “He seemed pretty content to me. The people there respected and listened to him, despite his assurances that they did not. The community appeared to be thriving, though, it was pretty rough. Logs, thatch, and mud mortar. They’re far enough into the wilderness that I don’t think they’ll have problems with the Sanctuary. They had plenty to eat, but if we see Myland again, I’d rather drink lantern oil than the foul spirits he’s distilling.”
A broad grin split Gunther’s face. “That’s the Myland I know.”
“You founded Free State, didn’t you?” guessed Ben.
Gunther winked. “I founded a Free State, the first one. Each of the colonies you found were formed by their members. I have very little to do with establishing new colonies these days. When it started, I had no desire to continue living within the power structure that the leaders of this world have thrown across us. Everywhere I went, I had to hide who I was for fear that the locals would try to conscript me into whatever petty cause they had. I didn’t want to fight their pointless wars.”
Amelie gestured to Gunther’s hammer. “Certainly, they couldn’t force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
Gunther picked up the massive weapon and cradled it in his lap. “No one, not even the Veil, has the strength to force me to do something. A cruel enough person can always find leverage, though. They could damage my property, harm the ones I love. They could harm ones I don’t know but am too good of a person to let suffer. There is a lot someone can do to influence you if they are willing to go far enough. You can ask your friend the assassin about that. Sometimes, it would take years, but always, someone would decide to manipulate me. Usually, they didn’t understand who I am. They saw me merely as a very large man with a mage-wrought hammer. I was able to hide what I’m really capable of, and that just made it worse.”
Ben ignored the jibe at Rhys. “You left to get away from that?”
The huge mage nodded. “I left. I looked for the most remote place I could find, and I lived there. I lived there for years by myself. It was terrible. Almost as bad as being under some lord’s boot. People are not meant to be ruled and treated like peasants, but they aren’t meant to be alone, either. I returned to the edges of civilization and built a small village. I traded with those near me. Over time, more and more of them came to join me. After enough years, they realized I wasn’t aging. They suddenly wanted something from me too, more than I was willing to give. So again, I left.”
He turned the hammer in his hands, his fingers drifting over the swirling patterns of yellow, red, and orange.
“That time, I didn’t go into isolation, but I didn’t stray too close to the seats of power either. I found another area on the fringe, and I started another community. Every decade or so, I did the same. These days, there are enough communities that when it’s time, I return to places I’ve been. Only a few members of the communities know the truth about me. Mistress Albie and Myland, those like them who I can trust. To most, I’m merely the biggest, meanest, strongest, and fastest worker. That’s more than enough to gain respect. When necessary, I protect the communities, but they’re so spread out now it’s become difficult. I regret I couldn’t be there to help the people in the Wilds.”
“Why do you do it?” wondered Amelie.
“To give people a place to go. There are so many who are oppressed but have nowhere to turn. This is my solution.”
“You have the strength to build a real city, a place with rules that make it fair to everyone. You could lead it, and set the example for your people,” challenged Ben. “You could turn it into a new land, one where people are treated fairly, and no one is artificially elevated over the others.”
Gunther shook his head. “No, if I tried that, I am certain I would end up just like the others. King Argren in Whitehall, Lord Jason in Irrefort, Lady Coatney in the Sanctuary.”
“Lady Coatney?” queried Ben.
Gunther nodded. “The Veil.”
“I haven’t known you long,” stated Amelie, “but I think I already know you well enough to understand you wouldn’t seek power like them. You are a good man. You could do so much for the world. If you were in Alcott standing against the demons, standing against the wars of man, think how many people you could save!”
Gunther set his hammer on the ground beside him. “None of those leaders started out thinking they would do evil. They all thought they would do good for their people. Maybe even for Alcott and the world. That’s not the way it worked out, though, is it?”
Ben frowned.
“Good intentions do not always lead to good actions,” continued the mage. “The more powerful someone is, the easier it is to slide down the slippery slope into darkness. Compromises to advance your vision seem worth it, and only too late does one realize how far they’ve fallen. Remember that as you continue your quest. Remember that both Argren and Jason meant to do good when they started, and I’d gamble they still believe they are on the side of right. What difference does it make for most people, though? Countless lives will be crushed when those two sides come together.”
“We know people will die!” exclaimed Ben. “That’s what we’re saying.”
Gunther held up a hand to stall Ben. “Whether it is those rulers or me, it doesn’t matter. Whoever is involved in the conflict, it doesn’t matter. The best intentions do not justify war. Nothing does. Those lords would march to battle against me, just like they will against each other.”
“Someone has to stand up for what is right,” argued Amelie.
“Who decides what is right?” retorted Gunther. “As I said earlier, Argren, Jason, even Coatney all believed at one point they were there to do good. Are we so confident that we can say with absolute certainty, they are wrong?”
Ben and Amelie frowned at the mage, at a loss for words.
“Look at it this way,” added the man. “Are the Alliance and Coalition any different? Does it matter to the common man who wins that battle? They say they are different. They have slightly different laws they impose on their populations, though, most people would have difficulty telling you which ones. At the end of the day, to the majority of the population, they are the same. The words even mean the same thing! A coalition is an alliance.”
Ben blinked, his mind swirling.
“It’s just two sides of the same coin,” rumbled Gunther. “You can flip the coin to either side and it looks different to someone who isn’t paying attention. Front or back, coalition or alliance, ass or elephant, it’s the same damn coin!”
The huge mage stood, dragging his hammer up with him.
“No, I don’t trust myself to be a leader. I’ve been alive too long. I’ve see
n people make too many errors. I can’t believe I’m better than all of the leaders who’ve come before. It’s the conceit of man to think that he is wiser than all other men. That’s why I’ve continued to promote Free State. A man does not need someone else to give him permission to live. No one should stand in judgement of another man’s choices, to tell him what is right and wrong.”
The mage retreated to the other side of their camp and busied himself by shaking out his bed roll. While he’d spoken, the sun had fallen below the horizon, and the warm desert air was rapidly cooling.
Rhys settled down beside them, taking Gunther’s place. He passed a wine skin to Amelie who drank deeply, a pensive look etched on her face.
“He’s right, you know,” stated Rhys. “Too much power inevitably leads to darkness. I’ve seen it more times than I care to recall.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What do you suggest then?”
Rhys drew his longsword and placed it on his knees, just like Gunther had held his hammer.
“Draw your sword, Ben,” requested the rogue.
Eyebrows knit in confusion, Ben drew his weapon and placed it on his knees.
Rhys slid a finger down the length of his blade. Silvery runes sparkled beneath his touch. A wisp of silver smoke drifted off the blade, barely visible in the low light of the moon.
“In the past, when I disagreed with someone, I killed them,” stated Rhys bluntly. “I used either this sword or my long knives. I considered it a simple, even elegant solution. Because of that, I got my way most of the time. I did what I wanted, and it was pretty rare someone was able to oppose me.”
Ben and Amelie watched their friend silently.
“Over the years, I got even better at it,” continued the rogue. “Killing people grew easy, and I loved the power it gave me. I found myself finding reasons to eliminate someone. For the most part, I think they actually were bad people. Gunther was right, though. Who am I to judge? How could I call someone else bad when I was an assassin? I have no moral right and no ground to stand on. I didn’t know how to stop, though. When you have a sword, it’s easy to use. I joined the Sanctuary, thinking I could make sense of things, thinking that in her years, the Veil had improved. It seemed the Sanctuary was doing good in the world again. I found out, though, the Veil had just gotten better at keeping secrets. She was up to the same machinations as her predecessors.”