by Dan Mat
“Evening sir.” one of the guards said “Are you planning on going outside of the estate?”
“Just for a bit. I’m meeting with captain Wilsen, over a couple of drinks.” Scejvor answered casually.
“If you allow us a few minutes, we’ll secure the escort.” guard said.
“No need to bother yourselves.” Scejvor waved his hand “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Chief regent did not wait for the response, hastily storming pass them, and out of the corridor. He couldn’t risk staying there for another second. Otherwise, he was afraid they would stop him altogether.
“Send two men in plain clothes after him.” older of the two guards said “Instruct them to keep their distance.”
“Understood.” other one nodded, immediately rushing towards the sleeping quarters.
In the mean time, Teer Scejvor went downstairs. But instead of going to the front, he opted for the backdoor. If because of nothing else, then to try and be somewhat discrete. Several carriages were lined by the road. Provided for the officials who were given the temporary residence in the palace, during the assembly meetings. Carriages were light and nimble. With shorter wheel base than the regular ones, but still very comfortable. Ideal for the fast traverse across the town. Something which Scejvor had the opportunity to find out first hand. For it took them only twenty minutes to arrive at the docks.
“Chief regent! It’s so nice to see you.” captain Wilsen greet him wholeheartedly, as he was coming off the ship “You are right on time.”
He was accompanied by about dozen of quite exhilarated sailors. And they all loudly joined in captain’s greetings.
“So, are we all ready?” Scejvor smiled.
“Always.” Barmeil answered, patting his back.
“Some of us could hop in the carriage.” Scejvor suggested.
“No need.” Wilsen retorted “It’s just around the corner.”
“Oh, alright then.” Scejvor said, turning towards the coachman “Could you wait for me here?”
“Certainly sir.” old, scrawny looking man, in thick, furry coat, nodded “I’ll do that sir.”
“Forwards!” Barmeil yelled “To the Raised Sail!”
“Raised Sail?” Scejvor asked.
“It’s a tavern.” Wilsen answered.
“Not just any tavern!” Barmeil added “It’s the best tavern in town!”
“Best you say?” captain Wilsen asked “You only say that because of a certain lady.”
“That’s not true.” Barmeil protested.
“What lady?” Scejvor asked.
“A waitress he never mustered the courage to ask for a name.” Wilsen answered “Let alone anything else.”
“I am going to.” Barmeil said “Tonight. You’ll see.”
“Sure.” captain laughed “You said that three times already.”
“This time I mean it.” Barmeil persisted “But first, I’m going to need some ale.”
Raised Sail tavern, was in the complete ownership of the naval guild, and as such, especially appealing to the sailors. With various benefits and quite substantial discounts, it was no wonder captain Wilsen decided to invite Teer Scejvor in here. Another, equally important reason, was to show him the authentic experience in sailor lives.
Short, cobblestone stairway led downwards, into a quite wide, underground room, filled with large number of simple, circular, wooden tables. The room was decorated in various nautical memorabilia, more fitting one of the museum exhibitions down in Garhmier, which chief regent had the habit of visiting, than this damp looking basement. On one of the walls was a massive, steel panel, with the engraved names of every sailor, that gave their lives to the dangerous waters of Kabial. Thick, white cloud of smoke, raised from the pipes of some ten sailors, that were already enjoying the hospitality of this establishment. Behind the alcohol soaked, dark-wood bar, stood somewhat pudgy, balding looking, owner of the tavern.
“Evening Wilsen! Evening lads!” He yelled as soon as they walked in.
“Gopp! You old fart.” captain retorted “It’s so good to see your ugly mug again.”
“What’s your poison of choice?” bartender asked, after they sat down.
“Give us some ale!” Barmeil said hastily.
“And a round of red rum.” captain Wilsen added.
“Red rum?” Scejvor whispered “What is that?”
“A real drink, for the real men.” Barmeil answered.
“So it is the real drink ?” Scejvor smiled.
“Yes.” Wilsen nodded “It’s just a part of our maritime tradition.”
“In that case, I can’t wait to try it.” Scejvor said.
Gopp returned quickly, carrying their orders, on a large, wooden platter. Scejvor wondered in awe, how he was being able to move around with such an ease, whilst holding everything in one hand. Gopp circled the table, gently nodding, as he was placing the drinks in front of each sailor.
“To long life and good health!” captain Wilsen raised his glass of red rum.
“To good health!” sailors cheered.
“You aren’t going to tell me what’s in this?” Scejvor asked.
“Not yet.” Wilsen smiled “Drink it.”
Chief regent rather cautiously sniffed the drink, before taking a sip. But seeing everyone else gulped theirs, he had to follow suit. At first, Scejvor couldn’t understand why did sailors deemed this drink being unique. Beside the color, he found its smell and its taste, the same as those, he had the opportunity to try before. Perhaps a bit stronger, and a bit stiffer, but otherwise the same. It was lighting the fire in his belly just the same. But then it kicked him back, once the first hot wave traveling down his throat had passed. And then Scejvor realized what Barmeil ment, by this being the drink for the real men. For the only thing left in his mouth, was the taste of iron. And it was horrible.
“Kicks like a mule.” Barmeil shook his head.
“What is this poison?” Scejvor face immediately turned into an ugly grimace.
“Our famous red rum.” Wilsen said.
“Yes, but what is it?” Scejvor asked.
“Strongest and cheapest alcohol you can find, mixed with fresh, fish blood.” Wilsen laughed.
“Forgive us.” Barmeil said “But hey, at least you are one of us now.”
“You sailors are one very weird sort.” Scejvor retorted as he stood up “Barteneder! One more round of red rum!”
Thundering, wholehearted laughter resounded across the entire tavern because of this remark. Scejvor became the part of this group, and for some reason it felt like he always belonged here. But how was this even possible? He though to himself, while taking a large sip of cold ale. He, the chief mercantile regent for lord Pserofes of Garhmier, nobleman and an aristocrat, in a company of these common folks. Sharing the table, the drinks and laughter, as if there were no class, nor social differences between them. But was this for real? Was this permanent? Or just the temporary inebriation of his mind, scrambled by this adventure. And this trip to Vallsynk, was undoubtedly an adventure. The biggest one by far he ever had. Up to now, he led quite a bland and boring life.
Another toast interrupted Scejvor’s pondering. And he readily accepted it, along with the drinks that followed. These sailors sure looked like they could hold their booze. It seemed as if they were guzzling water. Something chief regent tried to do himself. He tried to keep up with them. And soon enough, he was so inebriated, he barely managed to remain in his chair, without falling. He didn’t even noticed that tavern got full in the meantime. He didn’t notice a couple of sailors, sitting in the far corner, secretively looking at him. And he certainly didn’t notice two of the golden dagger soldiers in plain clothes, vigilant in their watch over him.
CHAPTER 16
Amn’oaz. Vast, wild, inhospitable jungle. Untouched, mainly unexplored expanse to the southwest of Tanmar. One of the few regions of Dorull, even vards used to avoid. Jungle was teeming with various wildlife forms, dangerous beasts an
d creatures. Alongside which coexisted multitudinous humanoid, tribal communities, who seemingly refused and resisted venturing the path of society progress, seen in other parts of Dorull. Enough of a reason, for vards, to lose the interest in this area.
Surely, in the past, they tried to conquer this wilderness. To tame the savages living inhere. But they paid the price for their imprudence, their frivolity. And they paid it with their lives. Hundreds of vards died, before they finally realized, it’s better just to stay clear. No resource, either mineral or that of an animal, or humanoid kind, could warrant such a loss. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble, so they stopped going there altogether. The rule which they had to broke, as they were about to set after fugitive councilor from Vallsynk.
Sudden, bright, burst of light, shone over the small field, as strange looking, metallic disc, no wider than five feet in diameter, appeared on the ground. Just a moment later, its flat, smooth surface, transformed into a ten foot, cylindrical shaped object. In a blink of an eye, cylinder assumed the shape of a humanoid figure, whilst emitting barely audible hum. The whole process lasted for no more than a couple of seconds, before abruptly vanishing in one last flash of light. But not before it materialized Vlaazh Niykav. Vard turn around, as another nine identical discs appeared around him, bringing the unit of soldiers, he handpicked for this mission.
“Secure the perimeter.” Vlaazh whispered “Vagyr, scan the area. I want to know the surroundings.”
“I see a nearby cave.” Vagyr said “I suggest we use it as a temporary base.”
“When’s the sunrise?” Vlaazh asked.
“In two hours.” Vagyr answered.
“Take us there.” commander Niykav nodded.
The cave entrance was in between two small mounds, somewhat concealed with trees and thick undergrowth. Tunnel led downwards in a steep angle, for about twenty, thirty yards, afterwhich it leveled into a spacious, round chamber. From there, it forked into three passages, disappearing further and deeper. It took vards almost twenty minutes to explore the entire, over four hundred yards long, cave complex. They proceed to illuminate everything with bunch of galed lamps, as they wandered forward. Made from the small clusters of crystals, imbued with concentrated mixture of gases, these lamps gave quite bright artificial light. Not before long, there was no dark spot in the entire cave.
“Is scan near completion?” Vlaazh asked.
“SCAN COMPLETED.” automated voice came from the device, Vagyr held in his hand.
“Yes.” Vagyr answered.
“What does it say?” Vlaazh asked.
“Nothing but the forest around us.” Vagyr said “No signs of any settlement in a five mile radius.”
“What’s our current location?” Vlaazh asked.
“Just north of the lake Seeir.” Vagyr answered.
“Show me the terrain configuration.” Vlaazh said.
Vagyr nodded, carefully placing the device on the ground. He proceed opening small, side compartment, which revealed a panel with several flat, square-shaped keys. Vard scout pressed the few of them in a particular sequence, powering up the lens projector. The lens blinked and flickered for a moment, before releasing vertical, refractive beam a couple of feet up, where it dispersed in the thousands horizontal ones. Just about five seconds later, right in front of Vlaazh, formed the holographic, three-dimensional display of their surroundings.
“This is Seeir?” Vlaazh asked, after a few seconds of contemplation.
“Yes.” Vagyr retorted.
“I hoped it would be smaller.” Vlaazh said.
“Its surface is just under thousand square miles.” Vagyr read the data collected in the recent scan.
“Enlarge it.” Vlaazh said.
“Holographic display flickered for a second, while the device made the adjustments of zooming the terrain.
“We’ll have to split up.” Vlaazh said.
“What’s the plan?” Vagyr asked.
“Take half of the unit around the western shore.” Vlaazh point his finger at the display “The rest of us will go eastwards. We’ll meet on the other side of the lake.”
“That would be the efficient way.” Vagyr nodded “But much more dangerous one.”
“I know.” Vlaazh said “But we might not be the only ones tracking the elf.”
“Do you expect trouble?” Vagyr asked.
“We need to avoid the possible competition.” Vlaazh retorted.
“The sun is rising.” soldier stationed at the entrance of the cave suddenly said.
“Thank you Dradis.” Vagyr kneeled, shuting down the device “Shall we go?”
“Check your comunicators.” Vlaazh said, as soon as they’ve left the cave.
The path led them straight into the forest, where it disappeared after just some fifty-odd yards. Before them stood the seemingly impenetrable, green wall of wattle, shrubs and vine thicket.
“All operational.” Dradis Tarvvas reported.
“What are we to do, if we stumble upon the elf?” Vagyr asked.
“Approach him with caution.” Vlaazh answered in earnest “It will be some task in trying to convince the elf, we are here to protect him.”
“Well, who could blame him?” Vagyr was honest “After what we did.”
“That was an unfortunate mistake.” Vlaazh nodded “One we are obliged to rectify.”
“We could’ve killed him, all because of…” Vagyr abruptly cut off in mid sentence, as the forest widened.
A rather large clearance appeared right before them, stretching all the way to the lake shore. It was filled with hundreds of cone huts, made out of mud and wattle. Dozens of fires burned in between them. Small, female figures, were rushing to the lake and back, bringing the water in deep, clay vessels. They were preparing a feast. Something which became even more apparent, once vards spotted several males, carving and slicing stripes of meat, from the corpse hanging on the wooden rack.
“So, there are no sign of any settlements?” Vlaazh asked turning towards the scout.
“Perhaps they are peaceful.” Vagyr scratched his head “They are cooking some meat. I hope it’s venison.”
“That’s not a deer.” Dradis said with gloom in his voice “That’s a person.”
Vlaazh and Vagyr looked at each other in appall, knowing well what this meant. They’ve stumbled upon the cannibalistic tribe. And by the bloodcurdling screams, that suddenly erupted from the village, vard’s presence didn’t went unnoticed.
CHAPTER 17
The small entrance to the cave on one slant, steep and soaring peak, just to the northeast from Gollvin, was exceptionally difficult to reach, and as Roshnak Baanar found out, very well hidden. Despite his guide and scout managing to discover it earlier, he now had some difficulties doing it again. They circled the area for more than three hours, but to no avail. This monotonous, unvaried landscape certainly wasn’t helping in their search. To the point it became almost ridiculous.
Roshnak certainly didn’t blame the scout for that, but he was losing his patience. Truth to be told, he begin losing it several days ago, while trying to explain the workings of the magical doors to Uggut. And that was easier said than done. Roshnak knew it would be highly impossible to teach him the language of the stars. Not in a hundred of years. But those few phrases and symbols, needed to activate the passage, were probable to learn and to memorise. Or so Roshnak thought, completely forgetting about the complexity of the language. Forgetting he received this knowledge as a gift. That he too would probably struggle, if the situation was reversed.
“I found it!” scout exclaimed, climbing the slick, narrow path, in between two large, sharpedged boulders.
“Well done laddie!” Roshnak retorted, following him closely.
The cave was some forty feet wide, and about twice as much long. Short rays of the midday sun reached only several feet in, but that was just enough to light the entire space. Somewhat slanted floor leveled flat at the far end of the cave, where it disappeared into a twen
ty foot wide, almost perfectly round hole. Weak, yet uninterrupted current of cold air circulated out of it. Probable sign they were right to presume the purpose of this tunnel, this shaft. Roshnak hoped they weren’t wrong about it being connected with the mines. Otherwise, this trip he took with his young, scout companion, would be a massive waste of time.
“What’s your name again, laddie?” Roshnak asked, setting the backpack onto the ground.
“Waghein.” scout answered “Waghein Norrg.”
“Waghein, could you light up the torch.” Roshnak said “And then try and find us a decent moor spot.”
“Do you think this will be enough rope?” Waghein glanced at both of their backpacks.
“If not, you’ll run back to Zhinnaeg for more.” Roshak smiled.
Waghein smiled back, immediately jumping to do what shaman asked of him. And scout worked fast, pounding a couple of steel wedges in the stone floor of the cave. His swings were all the same, his strokes precise. He kept hammering, until both of the wedges stood burried half into the ground. Only thing left was to tie the ropes, hoping they would hold their weight.
“Should I set them in the hole?” Waghein asked.
Instead of an answer, Roshnak pushed one of the backpacks with his foot. It rolled over the edge, disappearing in the darkness of the shaft, in a blink of an eye.
“I hope there are no knots on the rope.” Roshnak said looking downwards “I wouldn’t wish to find the backpack stuck halfway there.”
“Don’t you worry.” Waghein retorted, pushing the other pack in the same manner “I placed them inside. They’ll unwind just fine, it’s a guarantee.”
“In that case, see you on the bottom.” Roshnak smiled “Don’t rush and watch your step.”