by Dan Mat
Waghein nodded, as he followed shaman. Well at least for ten or so yards. After that it became too dark. If it weren’t for the occasional moans Roshnak let slip, scout wouldn’t know if he was still there. For he couldn’t see a thing. And with every step, with every jerk of the rope, the trepidation and unease grew exponentially. Fortunately, the walls of this vertical tunnel were smooth. They were easy to climb down. But still, even the slightest mistake at this point, could meant the certain death.
“Should I light another torch?” Waghein whispered.
“No.” Roshnak retorted “Someone might be down there.”
Scout immediately realized he made a mistake by opening his mouth. And in this darkness, he couldn’t know if shaman was angry. What if there is someone down there? What if someone heard him? Why did he had to open his stupid mouth? Waghein bit his lip, deciding to keep quiet for the remainder of their descent. One that lasted over half an hour.
“Are you down yet, laddie?” Roshnak asked a couple of minutes upon setting his foot on the bottom of the shaft.
“Yes.” Waghein whispered in relief.
“Excellent.” Roshnak said “Light us the torch now. Will you?”
Several sparks flew through the air, as scout struck the flint with his dagger. Then a few more, until one of the sparks fell on the oil drenched strip of cloth, wrapped around the branch. Flickering flame light up the corner of quite a spacious cave, in which they just descended. Being two hundred yards long and almost as much wide, with the ceiling that reached height of about twenty feet, cave was looking more than suitable of accepting the soldiers. But Roshnak had to be sure of it.
First they had to scout the surrounding tunnels and corridors. Making sure they were deserted. Making sure there are no humans or any other creatures that might be down here. They had to remain stealthy, and unnoticed. Otherwise, without the element of a surprise, this attack would be pointless, to say at least. They had to secure the perimeter, before Roshnak could even begin to think about the next step of the plan. The making of the magical doors.
In the meantime, Waghein lit yet another torch, giving it to the shaman. After which he looked around the cave once more, when his attention turned towards their backpacks. In two strong strides he was beside them, kneeling by his, taking a closer look.
“I knew I packed enough rope.” Waghein laughed, pulling the end of the rope from the backpack, and tossing it to the ground.
It was just five feet longer, than the shaft they descended in.
CHAPTER 18
The arrival of the caravan from Gollvin, took everyone in Vallsynk by surprise. Not just because it was unannounced, but because it was surely the largest shipment of ore anyone had ever seen. Heavy, reinforced carts, slowly crept across the dirty cobble road, leading towards the warehouses, located inbetween mercantile district and the docks. Accidental or purposeful arrival, coinciding with the great assembly, taking place in this harbor town, surely could only help the miners. If for nothing else, but to raise the awareness of their cause, among every official.
Half an hour later, all of the carts were secured and locked behind the doors of their designated warehouse. Several soldier that were escorting them all the way from Gollvin, decided to stay around and guard the shipment, while the rest head towards the nearby building. This two stories high structure, made out of stone bricks, was in Gollvin’s lease for more than five decades. And it continued to serve them well, in housing everyone arriving with the caravan. With the bright white facade and tall, slanted roof made out of the red tiles, the building stood out from those surrounding it. Alongside with the rows of narrow, double glass windows, it surely was the finest one.
“Should I send for the courier?” Elben Sartain asked, while opening the front doors.
“No.” Ors Mykhil, the lead mining commissioner of Gollvin, retorted “I’ll go find the councilor myself.”
“You won’t eat or rest, first?” lieutenant Sartain asked.
“Later.” Mykhil waved his hand “Make sure everyone else does.”
“Yes sir.” Elben nodded.
Mining commissioner didn’t want to waste any more time, hastily walking away, turning left into a side alley. He proceed to the end, where he turned right, passing by a couple of people, idly standing there. One of them said something, but Mykhil wasn’t paying attention. He was far too preoccupied pondering the ways to present their case to the councilor. So deep withing his thoughts, he almost walked right by the rubble of burned mercantile guild building, without even noticing. But once Mykhil realized were he was, he decided to stop for a moment. He had to see it for himself.
Single soldier held the guard in front of the debris pile. And by the look on his face, he probably did not understand why. As if someone would have anything worth stealing. But then again, those with too much wealth collected even weirder things, than the charred, burned and crumbled refuse pieces of a building, in which two of the mercantile councilors lost their lives. This place now became some sort of an attraction. Mykhil stood there for only a couple of seconds, which was just about enough to satisfy his curiosity.
Mining commissioner proceed across the main town square, heading straight for the Vallsynk palace. Dozens of soldiers patroled all around the building, with quite a few of them standing in front of the entrance. Clear tell, there were some officials inside. And Mykhil hoped that one of them is mercantile councilor Xavnier Gloir.
“Your name and the reason of your visit, please.” a bit older, somewhat balding man, stopped him, as soon as he entered the hallway.
“Ors Mykhil, mining commissioner from Gollvin. Is councilor Gloir here?”
“Good day to you sir. My name is Starn, I am the chief stewart of the palace.” old man bowed “I am sorry to say that councilor isn’t here today. Perhaps I can send a courier for him?”
“Could I wait here?” Mykhil asked.
“Certainly.” Starn nodded “Follow me. Do you wish something to eat or drink?”
“If it’s not any trouble.” Mykhil said.
“Not at all.” Starn retorted, as he led him into a beautiful, well lit lounge.
Besides a couple of sofas and well crafted escritoire, there was nothing else in this room.
“I believe you’ll find everything needed in here, to write a message.” Starn added.
“Thank you very much.” Mykhil answered, immediately taking a piece of paper from the stack he found in one of the table drawers.
Five minutes later, one of the butlers brought a trey full of various meals and drinks. Starn was following close, placing the tablecloth, before the butler could set the food down. Mykhil gave him the sealed letter, nodding in gratitude, before taking a large piece of meat. With hot, just baked bread and sweet, cooked potatoes, it was the best meal he saw or tasted in years. These folks had everything and much more. But still, they kept sending them scraps. Something which will change soon.
Mykhil had to wait on mercantile councilor, for more than one full hour. And when halfling finally arrived, mining commissioner finished scrolling through the bunch of bounded, very unusual documents. It was a work of a several people, which he could concluded by the different handwritings. And from those papers, Mykhil found out almost everything that happened in Vallsynk, in the past week or two. Everything, from those trivial, local events, to those major, significant ones. Such were the results of the investigations, regarding the deaths of two mercantile councilors.
“Good day mister Mykhil.” Xavnier said, shaking commissioner’s hand “Nice to see you.”
“Likewise.” Mykhil answered.
“I noticed you were checking the copy of Vallsynk Weekly.” Xavnier pointed at the papers, commissioner just set aside.
“Yes.” Mykhil scratched his head, somewhat confused “Although, if I am to be frank with you, I don’t understand what it is.”
“A little project from several of our best librarians and scholars.” Xavnier said “They call it the newspapers.�
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“The newspapers?” Mykhil repeated.
“They are the records of various news and events, collected throughout the week.” Xavnier picked the papers “Which scribes then duplicate, in order to share it with the people.”
“So this is not the only copy?” Mykhil asked.
“Far from it.” Xavnier smiled “They make them in hundreds.”
“And they do it every week?” Mykhil was surprised.
“Yes.” Xavnier nodded.
“That’s fantastic!” Mykhil exclaimed “But what about the town crier?”
“Vallsynk became far to large.” Xavnier retorted “This way, the more people can be informed much faster and easier.”
“That’s fantastic.” Mykhil said again.
“Yes. Yes it is.” Xavnier cleared his throat “So tell me, what brings you here?”
“Oh right.” commissioner recalled why he was here in the first place “I’ll explain, but could you please read this letter first?”
From the inner pocket of his coat, Mykhil took out the sealed envelope. It wasn’t addressed, but it beared the seal of Gollvin.
“Who is it from?” Xavnier asked.
“Mayor of Gollvin, Lavros Hadin.” commissioner said seriously.
Either because of the fact, this was the first time that Gollvin mayor made the contact with him, or because of the way Ors Mykhil said it, Xavnier immediately knew this visit would be a different from the ones before. Truth to be told, halfling was rarely involved in the mining affairs. Leaving everything to Panmorn. But he was no longer here.
Xavnier carefully opened the envelope, taking out one neatly folded piece of paper. It took him about a minute to read the entire letter. But with every passing second, with every word read, his face became paler and paler.
“What is the meaning of this?” Xavnier asked after brief pause.
“I think it’s self explanatory.” Mykhil retorted.
“Is this a joke?” Xavnier asked.
“Quite the opposite.” Mykhil answered.
“You are aware of the content of this letter?” Xavnier asked.
“Yes.” Mykhil nodded “I was a part of the Gollvin council meeting, when mayor wrote the letter.”
“So you all stand behind these words?” Xavnier asked.
“Yes.” Mykhil said “All of us.”
“Entire council?”
“Entire city.”
“You are serious.” Xavnier said.
“What else did you expect?” Mykhil asked.
“I don’t understand.” Xavnier said “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you had plenty of time to meet our requests, but you decided to ignore us.” Mykhil said calmly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Xavnier defended himself.
“You have to be kidding me!” Mykhil could no longer hide behind his feelings, and this last remark was more than offensive.
“But I am telling the truth.” Xavnier said “It was Panmorn who dealt with the mining matters.”
“And did the late councilor left any documentation of his dealings behind?” mining commissioner asked after brief pause.
“Well of course.” Xavnier retorted.
“In that case, I’d advise you to carefully study them.” Mykhil said, as he stood up from the chair “Next time we meet, I’ll expect the answers to our demands.”
“But that will take days.” Xavnier jumped.
“You have two.” Mykhil said “Same place?”
“It would be better if you come to my mansion.” Xavnier answered.
“In that case, I bid you farewell.” Mykhil bowed slightly, leaving the lounge.
Xavnier remain standing there for quite some time, staring at the spot in which mining commissioner sat, not long ago. And he still could not comprehend what just happened. The letter from the Gollvin mayor, his promise, his threat, terrified halfling. Was the situation that critical, as they stated? Were the miners truly willing to leave their homes, their town? Were they that desperate? How did this happened?
Xavnier sighed loudly. On the top of everything he was dealing with in these past couple of weeks, now he had to worry about the potential catastrophe. And if those miners were about to leave Gollvin, it would be nothing short of a catastrophe. It would ruin everything he was trying to achieve. Or he could try, and turn this unfortunate situation to his advantage. But halfling knew, he couldn’t do it all by himself. It was time for Lady Falkner to make a contribution. If she was prepared to laid claim on significant portion of Gollvin riches, she’d better make sure they keep coming.
CHAPTER 19
Meeting with the Pamens again, was something which Enepel Zaanven secretly hoped for, when he decided to take the refuge in the rainforests of Amn’oaz. But for it to happen this soon and all of the sudden, just the few days upon his arrival here, could only be contributed to a blind luck. And elf surely needed some right now. Alongside with the help, Pamens would undoubtedly offer to him.
But that was the last thing on Zaanven’s mind, right now. He found himself amongst old friends. And for at least one brief moment, he could afford to set his worries aside. To enjoy their company and reminisce about past. Because in the end, this would ultimately bring him the relief and the peace of mind, he desperately needed. And it already showed, seeing that elf slept the entirety of the last night. Once he finally woke up, he realized it was long after the sunrise.
Simple, somewhat loose and rickety hut, made out of wattle and mud, was similar to the one he found in that abandoned hunting camp. And yet it seemed much comfier. Enepel certainly felt more rested. Not because of the bed. Nor the location. He was still in the same jungle. But with one significant difference, he was not alone anymore. Elf put his clothes back on, struggling to stand up. Grazing the ceiling with the top of his head a few times. Halfling structures weren’t known for beeing tall, not that Zaanven ever complained. But if he was about to stay with the Pamens, he’d have to insist on a bigger head clearance. And certainly bigger doors. For he almost had to crawl through these, as he was exiting the hut.
“Did you sleep well?” Mourdac asked, kicking the dirt over the fire.
“You are waiting on me?” Enepel asked back, once he noticed every hut bar his, was flattened down and removed from the field “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Need no worry my friend.” Pamen chieftain smiled “We are waiting for our scouts to return.”
“Where are we going?” Enepel asked.
“Hunting.” Mourdac answered “Our last attempt didn’t go quite as planned.”
“And I am sorry for that.” Enepel said “I’ll do my best to redeem myself.”
“I know you will.” Mourdac winked “I hope you didn’t forget to hunt like a Pamen.”
“I always managed to beat you.” Enepel smiled.
“Because I’ve let you.” Mourdac retorted.
“Not even your hunters believe in that.” Zaanven was fast to reply.
“Then I guess I have to show them.” Mourdac said.
“Is that a challenge I hear?” Enepel asked.
“Are you planning to use you bow?” Mourdac asked.
“Yes.” Enepel nodded.
“Are you sure?” Mourdac asked again.
“Yes.” Enepel said.
“That makes thing much easier.” Mourdac was already sure of triumph and he didn’t even bother to hide it “So how are we going to do this?”
“We can always go with whoever catches the most.” Zaanven suggested.
“Until the end of the day.” Mourdac said “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Zaanven shook chieftain’s hand.
“The flock has returned!” Elonthier yelled from the edge of the forest, while gasping for breath.
Scout must’ve run the entire way back to camp.
“Lead us!” Mourdac exclaimed.
It took just a few seconds for Pamens to bring down the remaining hut. The promise of a hunt dro
ve them to move even faster, eagerly following Elonthier over the narrow path through the jungle. To the place where their scouts saw the birds. They’ve run for over an hour, before finally reaching a rather wide field, quite similar to that in which elf first met with the hunting group. Only this one was a bit more to the south. The flock of quetzals found a new hunting ground. And with it, many other birds arrived. Zaanven recognized parrots and hornbills, among many others he did not know.
Mourdac waved his hand, giving a signal for hunters to spread around the field. They had to move fast, and at the same time be careful enough, not to startle any of the birds. And so they did, taking their positions in no time at all. They aimed their bows in a general direction of the meadow, waiting for the order to begin the hunt. And with the next swoop of the flock, just above the grass line, the order came.
Arrows splashed the field in waves, bringing fast and silent deaths. Killing spree went unnoticed for quite some time. Almost hundred had fallen dead on the ground, before the birds even recognized the danger. Loud, piercing croaks and squawks send them in panic state, as they flew up, high above the field. They proceed changing the direction four or five times, veering towards the forest on their last turn. Only this time, Pamens had no intention of letting them escape. Three of their scouts, led by Elonthier, rushed after them. The rest of the group stayed behind, collecting the spoil.
“Seven birds!” Mourdac exclaim, recognizing his arrows.
“Eleven.” Zaanven retorted calmly.
“That was a pure luck.” a dose of disappointment was present in Mourdac’s voice “All the birds I’ve missed, end up flying towards your arrows.”
“You given up already?” Enepel smiled.
“Day is long.” Mordac retorted “And the hunt is just beginning.”
Pamens were real careful not ot leave any bird behind, placing them inside the deep, woven baskets. Several minutes later, they were back in the forest, trying to catch up to the scouts, as soon as possible. Fortunately, Elonthier made that task a lot easier, by leaving quite clear marks. Those of the red, parrot feathers he stuck in the trees, where he and his scouts had passed. And they were at times moving through the undergrowth so dense and thick, Enepel found it difficult even to follow them. Halflings smaller physique allowed them to go through much narrower spaces. Good thing for elf, this whole ordeal didn’t lasted for long. Very soon, they were reunited with the scouts.