“But if you are free, why didn’t you return to the forest?” Delsaryn asked.
“My mother was a child when the war ended,” Nevryl said with a shrug. “I’ve never seen one of the old forests. Besides, I’m a merchant. Do the wild elves have merchants?”
“We don’t trade with humans,” replied Delsaryn. The idea that there were elves who lived willingly within the empire was a shock. That some willingly accepted slavery to pay their debts was unbelievable.
“Then why would I leave the empire? Look, let me offer some advice. The war ended so long ago, it’s only elves and a handful of dusty historians that remember it even happened. Stop fighting it.” Nevryl took a small purse from his belt and dumped out a few coins. “Here, you clearly have no idea what you’ve gotten into. These will pay for a dozen or so meals. Follow this road east to Blackwall. See for yourself. No one here hates elves.”
“I… I thank you,” stammered Delsaryn as he took the coins.
“Look, if you want, travel with me,” Nevryl said. “I’ve cargo to deliver to Arnhold. It’s a town at the end of the road. Won’t take more than a few days. I’ll teach you about life in the empire. You can tell me about the forest and maybe provide some fresh meat for the cook pot.”
“No, I think I must see this Blackwall,” Delsaryn said as he stood to leave.
“Good! Wait, I didn’t mean right away,” Nevryl said as Delsaryn walked to the door. “Delsaryn! Enjoy a meal with me at least.”
Delsaryn did not wait. He nearly ran from the inn and out into the darkness. The guard shouted after him, but the words didn’t register. This empire was nothing like what Elder Namyrah had described.
Two more days and nights followed, two full cycles of the sun and moon during which Delsaryn struggled to marry the life he had lived, protecting the forest from the ever-present threat of imperial invasion with the truth he now encountered. No human living even knew of the forest or the war their empire had waged against the elves. The slaves taken in the war had not been worked or tortured to death, but allowed to buy their freedom. Then they had stayed. They had settled, become part of the empire. The enemy he had been sent to deal with was unaware of his existence. Were it to learn, it would offer him a job, not the blade of a sword or tip of a spear. In Delsaryn’s memory, no scout had fallen in battle. The occasional death was due to accident or unexpected encounter with a boar. How many humans had the scouts killed over the decades? He scowled as the thought crossed his mind. If the humans weren’t the monsters in the tale, who did that leave?
Delsaryn continued to check the inns and roadside camps for Cazmeran, Kovol, and Taelyn. He wasn’t sure what else to do. He had vowed to complete his duty. It was something to do while he waded through doubts and second guesses. After a time, he regretted not staying to share a meal with Nevryl. There were many questions and the merchant seemed quick to anticipate the answers. What had stopped the empire from finishing the elves? Why had the elves who had survived the war not returned to their homes? Was it truly necessary for Delsaryn to hunt and kill three men with knowledge no one seemed to care about anymore?
And then all thought left Delsaryn’s conscious mind. Ahead of him, rising over hills like a massive black scab on the land, were the walls of the largest settlement he’d ever seen. He had known humans gathered in cities like elves gathered in the great trees. He had known humans existed in numbers greater than the elves. He had once wondered how humans, so short-lived, so coarse, so lacking in any advantage, could have defeated elves at war. Now, seeing the numbers in which humans gathered, it was far less wondrous. They could sleep in shifts and still wage constant war on a scale elves simply couldn’t match. Delsaryn had no doubt an elven warrior was worth a hundred humans, but for every elven warrior to take the field, the humans would send a thousand. As Delsaryn was finally able to place one foot in front of the other again, he knew that yes, it was vital no human ever know that elves still lived wild in the forest. If they came again, it would be like an avalanche swallowing a sapling.
“Quickly, come now,” urged Oabdi. His three companions hurried across the floor to stand before the map of the great game. Ayliaster’s plan to keep Therraz busy would not last long. The god of law grew ever more impatient with his daughter. In truth, Oabdi believed Therraz was aware of their plotting. It was likely only arrogance and certainty in his victory that stayed his hand at all. The gods might not be permitted to harm each other, but it had been shown with Bartleby that there were other punishments available. Oabdi himself had suggested several others so many eons ago.
“What is it Oabdi?” asked Cennic. “I can’t say I mind the sneaking, but for what purpose?”
“I’ve done it,” replied Oabdi.
“Done what, historian?” Aylathan asked impatiently. The god of forests had undergone an interesting transformation from pallid and sickly to robust and energetic. Ayliaster’s tales suggested that his glade had also undergone a recovery.
“I’ve figured out a bit of what our uncle has done, if not how,” Oabdi said as he removed a small silk bag from his robes. “We at last have an advantage. We can see Bartleby’s minions!”
Oabdi took an amulet from the bag. It was the same one that had once imprisoned the god of chaos. Cennic, Aylathan and Pellas recoiled as one.
“Have you lost your mind, Oabdi?” hissed Pellas.
“What better a bearer of the ability?” said Oabdi. “Would any of us put this on willingly? I assure you the former enchantment is gone. I’ll show you myself.”
Oabdi quickly placed the amulet around his neck. On the map, three figures suddenly existed where none had been before. A fourth figure that had been shadowy and translucent became clearer.
“Oh dear,” said Oabdi.
“What do you see?” asked Pellas.
“Well, it would would seem our shepherd and his guardians have run afoul of the law,” said Oabdi.
“You may need to be a little more specific, historian,” Cennic said.
“They’ve been imprisoned,” Oabdi replied.
“Let me see,” said Cennic. Oabdi removed the amulet and handed it to Cennic. The god of thieves hesitated and then accepted the trinket. He let out a sigh of relief when it slid on without ill effect.
“Oh, now isn’t that interesting,” he said as he examined the map.
“What do you see?” asked Pellas.
“They’re near one of my favorites. She’s good, but at some point she’s irritated Dejahn. She ends up in a lot of dungeon cells,” said Cennic.
“Will she help them?” asked Oabdi.
“She might,” replied Cennic, “if given the right motivation.”
“Do you think they have that much money?” Aylathan asked.
Cennic smiled and said, “Let’s hope so.”
***
“Well, that could have gone worse,” said Kovol as he picked himself up from the damp stone floor of the dungeon cell they had been thrown into.
“Really?” asked Taelyn. “They took everything but our clothes and have us locked in a dungeon.”
“They could have taken our clothes and paraded us naked through the streets before placing our necks on a chopping block.”
Taelyn hesitated a moment, “Ok, yes, that would’ve been worse. Cazmeran, are you all right?”
The old man groaned as he stood. A small barred window in the door offered the only light. The torch across the hallway from their cell burned steadily, but it was still barely enough to make out movement.
“They didn’t have to be quite so rough. We weren’t resisting,” complained Cazmeran. “Though at least we’re all in the same cell.”
“This is where they keep prisoners awaiting judgment,” said a new voice. A woman’s voice.
“Please pardon the intrusion,” Cazmeran said. “We’re hoping to be just passing through.”
The woman barked a laugh. “So was I. They’re more thorough in their searches and they found my extra tools. Pigs. One of them
was definitely just enjoying the grope.”
“How long does it take before you see a judge?” asked Taelyn.
“Who said anything about a judge?” she replied. “They’ve already decided if you’re guilty or not. They’re just waiting for paperwork and signatures.”
“You seem to know a great deal about local practices,” said Cazmeran. “I take it you’ve been a guest here before?”
“A time or two,” she admitted. “They’ve fixed the door and bricked up the window since my first ‘visit.’ Not sure how I’m getting out this time.”
“If you think of something, do share,” Cazmeran said.
“I might,” she replied, “depending on why you’re here.”
“We had an encounter with a horse,” Kovol said.
“Oh, there’s clearly a story in that,” the woman said.
“Apparently,” said Taelyn, “belonging to the god of chaos turns your luck on its head.”
“Hush boy!” Cazmeran hissed.
“God of chaos?” the woman said. “Didn’t know there was one of those. I know Serron and Zan, and obviously Zan has it out for me. If your god can send lady luck packing, I’m all for him. Not that it’s likely to matter much longer.”
“You’ve been here a while?” asked Taelyn.
“’Come here often?’ and ‘Been here long?’ Really, do you think this is the place for flirting?” she teased.
“Oh! I… um…” stammered Taelyn.
The cell filled with the woman’s laughter. Taelyn was very glad the darkness prevented anyone from seeing the blush he could feel heating his cheeks.
“I just meant…” Taelyn began.”
“Oh I’m just teasing,” she interrupted. “They said last time they’d take my hands if I stole again. They’re waiting till they can make an example of me in some grand public spectacle. Show other would-be thieves the cost of doing business. I’ve been here almost a week. I thought they were coming for me when they tossed you three in here.”
“You’re a thief?” asked Taelyn.
“I’m not the only one in a dungeon,” she said pointedly, irritation creeping into her voice.
“Well, since Taelyn can’t keep his mouth shut,” said Cazmeran, “we’re somewhat along the lines of political prisoners, though our jailers currently think we’re just troublemakers.”
“I can see how followers of a god of chaos would be unwelcome,” she replied.
“I do not believe it will make any difference to our captors,” said Kovol. “But I have no overwhelming belief in gods.”
“Don’t worry, Kovol,” said Cazmeran. “Bartleby believes in you.”
“Heh. Well that’s two out of three names reveled,” the woman said with a chuckle. “What’s the last one?”
“I am Cazmeran the Great, and you?” replied Cazmeran. The darkness hid the old man from Taelyn, but in his mind, he could see Cazmeran striking a heroic pose and puffing out his chest.
“I’m Amberlee,” she said. “Thief of no repute because a thief who’s known isn’t doing it right.”
“Finally someone without some witty comment about my name,” crowed Cazmeran triumphantly.
“Tell me, old man,” Amberlee said. “Can you get us out of here quickly?”
“I’m not sure about that yet,” replied Cazmeran, “but I’m certain I’ll think of something.”
“Well,” she replied with sudden sarcasm. “That’s just great.”
***
The city of Blackwall was more crowded than anything Delsaryn had ever encountered. As daybreak brightened the city streets, people rushed out of their homes like ants from a kicked nest. It was impossible to walk a straight line for more than a few yards without bumping into someone. In addition to the people, there were men on horseback, some in armor and some in astoundingly impractical clothing, and wagons crowding the streets. Delsaryn was beginning to think spending the night outside the city had been a mistake. He had not been certain he would be able to sleep within the high, soot-stained walls. He had thought there would be too many places to look to find the men he tracked. During the day they would be more likely to be out in the open. He had not expected the entire population to take to the streets at once.
The height of the buildings did not surprise Delsaryn. He had taken shelter in an abandoned mage’s tower, built by some long-dead elf, that rose hundreds of feet in the air. It had been a tall, narrow spire that mimicked the surrounding tree trunks. These buildings were packed so tightly together that many of them shared a wall. If anything, the city reminded him of a wasp nest, so many living together they couldn’t help but crawl over one another. The thought made him shiver despite the growing heat of the day.
Delsaryn was used to the cool shade of the forest. He was getting used to direct sunlight, but the heat was still uncomfortable. He had put his cloak away in his pack. Elves were already known so it seemed that trying to hide his identity would arouse more suspicion than openly walking about. So far, he had seen some odd looks, but no one had raised an alarm or made any remark. In hindsight, he should have also removed the Afsha leaf armor, but it bolstered his confidence. There was no shame in fear when one walked into the lion’s den, so long as one did not allow it to overwhelm. Delsaryn felt close to being overwhelmed by the size of the city, the weight of the air thick with scents of food and smoke and people, the itch at the back of his neck that screamed danger. In truth, Delsaryn had not felt this kind of fear since his proving day, when he’d been blindfolded and left in the forest to fend for himself. This time, there would be no adult nearby to ensure his safety. Failure would not merely mean embarrassment, it might mean the empire would complete the extermination of the elves begun centuries ago.
For the moment, Delsaryn allowed the flow of human traffic to carry him like a leaf in the wind. In truth, he had no idea where to begin his search, but it seemed the crowds were heading to a central location. It might not be good logic to believe Taelyn, Kovol and Cazmeran would be swept toward the same location, but it was better than nothing. Delsaryn was also unsure what he would do once he found his prey. The three men might believe themselves criminals within the empire, but would the other humans know that? Would they rush to the defense if Delsaryn attacked them openly? Would he be able to get a clear shot if he attacked them from a rooftop? Killing to protect his people from discovery was one thing, but killing an innocent bystander who happened to walk in the way at the wrong moment was not something he was ready to accept.
The human river flowed into a vast open square full of tents and awnings. Here, the scents and sounds that were assaulting his senses seemed strongest. The babble of conversation drowned out anything that might warn him of danger and there was no way discern which direction any individual scent came from. It was an unpleasant, vulnerable feeling to lose that advanced warning he had always depended on. After a moment, he found himself on the edge of an empty space. A small number of city guards kept people away from a mess that was being cleared. There had been some sort of fire that had destroyed several shops and stalls. Men in chains swept up smashed pottery and bits of broken wood. He nearly turned and left the scene when he noticed a guard wearing a familiar sword.
The blade was well made for the sword of a city guard, but it was the red stag’s head near the hilt that Delsaryn recognized. Crossing blades with Kovol during sparring sessions had provided some familiarity with the sword. That the blade had been sold or taken as a trophy mattered little. The man knew something about Kovol and wherever the orc was, the boy and old man would likely be nearby. It was his only clue and it was leaving the scene of destruction.
The guard made his way through the vast marketplace with relative ease. Other people got out of his way, leaving a path that required no skill to follow. Delsaryn noted than some of the people moving aside for the guard appeared to be afraid. Were so many humans guilty of hidden crimes that they feared their own protectors? It seemed possible, but he thought it might be more likely a tru
th about those likely to frequent large trade camps such as these. Trade between clans was rare in the forest, but when it happened, one side or the other sometimes felt cheated by the deal. With so many traders among the humans, did they all feel cheated? Were they all willing to to cheat each other? The guard collected a loaf of bread from a baker’s stand while the owner was occupied with another customer. It appeared even human law enforcers were criminals.
Delsaryn followed the man to the edge of the market square and into the northern section of the city. The man ate his bread as he turned one corner after another. The buildings here were larger and appeared to have more decoration. Delsaryn was surprised to see that some even had gardens behind gates of iron and wood. He had thought humans detested growing things, thus their love of cities made of stone or hewn wood. To see these palaces adorned with flowers and lawns implied it was not that they hated things that grew, just those that grew untamed. He wondered if humans simply sought a purpose or demanded that the world comply with their specific intents.
Ahead of him, the guard suddenly darted into an alley. Delsaryn muttered a quiet curse and checked that his sword was ready for use as he rushed to the alley mouth. The alley was as wide as some of the streets he had seen in other parts of the city. It ran between the high walls of the estates on either side with enough room between them to drive one of the large and elaborate covered wagons some of the residents used. As Delsaryn entered the alley, the guard stepped away from a recessed door, sword drawn, his attention focused on the elf.
“Now,” he said, “why would an elf with a look of the wild follow me all the way from the market?”
Delsaryn took note of the man’s stance and grip on the sword and he knew that he had skill with the blade.
“You carry a distinct sword,” Delsaryn replied, “and I want to know what you can tell me of its former owner.”
“The orc?” the guard asked. “If he’s your friend, then I’ll be glad to take you to him. There’s room in the cells for another troublemaker.”
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