Savants of Humanity (The Scholar's Legacy Book 2)

by Joshua Buller

  A pair of Damkarein guards watched the doors at the top. They peered at me curiously beneath their helmets, but snapped to attention when Hawke came up behind me. With no words between them or to us, they each grabbed a handle of the thick iron doors and pried them open, ushering us in with a sweep of their hands.

  Uraj hadn't bothered with renovating the interior of the keep. The hallway leading to the audience chamber was still lit by bright chandeliers overhead, the carpet soaking up our footsteps as we moved through it. The only notable change was the absence of the portraits of the former leader that once adorned the walls. All that remained were conspicuous bright patches in the paint, spaced out like fresh gravestones in a cemetery.

  The audience chamber was similarly untouched, though someone had moved a table in front of the two thrones that sat upon a raised dais in the back. Uraj was seated in one, dressed in a very unkingly homespun robe, scribbling across pieces of parchment and stacking them in a neat pile with mechanical efficiency. He looked up and gave us a small wave.

  “Is the rest of the caravan behind you?” he asked.

  “I don't know,” said Hawke, a bit annoyed from his tone. “I came as soon as I heard they were approaching, just like you asked me to.”

  “Right, right. Sorry, I'm just a bit jittery.” Uraj stood and stretched, his robe straining across his barrel chest. “We have so little time, and I keep trying and failing to convince myself we haven't overlooked anything. You have your nullstones, right?”

  I rummaged through my pocket to find it. Uraj had asked me to keep it on my person at all times from now on, and I made sure to always have it nestled right next to my special padlock. I'd taken to keeping that in my pocket ever since Hafwei, for fear of losing it.

  The metal of the padlock was warm from keeping it so close, but the nullstone always had an uncomfortable chill about it, like it had been kept outside all night. I resisted the urge to shiver as I pulled it out and held it up. Uraj nodded approval.

  Hawke produced his from a cord around his neck, the same one that had been worn by Othenidus. Nodding more fervently, Uraj dug through a pouch at his belt and held up two more.

  “Good, all accounted for. I hope,” he said.

  “Wait, that just makes four. Where are—” Hawke stopped short when a tremendous boom came from the entrance hall. A few seconds later, a thunderous voice echoed down the corridor.

  “Uraj, ya bastard, what's tha idea!”

  I recognized the voice even before the hulking frame of Char squeezed through the passageway and into the chamber. In each hand, he held one of the guards from outside by the collar, dangling them like a child's playthings. They kicked and struggled to free themselves, but they might as well have tried moving a mountain for all the good it did them.

  Char set the soldiers on the ground, watching them scamper towards their lord with a disapproving glare. He turned that glare on the Forge, who flinched back a bit. For all his kindly demeanor, the giant was imposing when he wanted to be.

  “These two said ah couldn't come in! Didn't ya tell 'em ah was invited!?” Char said.

  “I suppose it slipped my mind to inform the guards. My apologies.” Uraj quickly informed the guards of the situation and gave them the afternoon off. They gratefully accepted, rushing from the room as fast as they could. They gave Char a wide berth as they scooted around him.

  “I hope your accommodations were agreeable on the road, Char?” asked Uraj. Char spat on the polished stone floor.

  “Caravan was too small ta ride in. Had ta walk tha whole way,” he said curtly. “A new pair o' shoes woulda done meh more good.”

  Uraj slumped a bit. Then, all at once, Char's surly disposition was replaced with a grin that nearly split his face.

  “Aye, ah'm jess kiddin'!” Char bellowed. Uraj relaxed, until Char lumbered towards him.

  “Come 'ere, ya big lummox!”

  Before Uraj could argue, the giant swept him into a bear hug. Even his blacksmith's muscles weren't enough to pry him free, and his protests fell on deaf ears. Hawke and I didn't bother hiding our grins.

  We were saved from the awkward situation as we heard the sound of shuffling footsteps on the carpet in the hallway. A hunched figure in a dirty black robe appeared at the mouth of the hallway, looking around speculatively. She almost scampered back the way she came when all the eyes in the room turned to her.

  “No, no, Silvia, it's fine!” Uraj rushed forward to help the Lord Ordained in. Hawke gasped at the name and quickly turned his attention elsewhere.

  Uraj led Silvia into the room and offered her one of the thrones to sit on. She graciously declined, making pious motions and talking about the need to suffer to cleanse the soul. That didn't stop her from leaning against the table for support, her ragged breathing fogging the face mask on her cowl.

  “I trust you two brought the nullstones?” Uraj asked. “Please, tell me you brought them?”

  Char brought his up between pinched fingers, the stone woefully diminished in his prodigious digits. Silvia, still wheezing, produced her own nullstone from a pouch secured around her neck. Uraj clapped his hands together and beamed.

  “Splendid, splendid! All are accounted for then. We're just waiting on the last of our party. Any trouble on that end, Char?”

  “Eh, should be along soon,” Char said.

  “Who is this sixth person you decided on, Uraj?” Hawke asked. There was no time for an answer to come, as the room was filled with the muffled echoes of a string of curses coming from the hallway. Something about them seemed familiar…

  Two figures shuffled into the room. One was a middle-aged woman, dressed in plain brown homespun, her graying brunette hair done up in a bun. She was fussing over the second figure, trying to help them walk.

  The second, a man from the sound of it, politely rebuffed her while he hobbled along on shaky legs. He wore loose cotton breeches and sturdy black boots that clacked as he stepped onto the stone floor. A tanned leather coat was pulled tight around his shoulders, which slumped like he was trying to escape from the woman's attention. His wide-brimmed black hat was pulled low, a wisp of smoke curling out from underneath the brim. I couldn't see his features, but I knew that hat all too well.

  “Luke!?” I rushed to his side. He tilted the hat back with a thumb, his pale blue eyes narrowing for a second before he recognized me.

  “Damn, I was hoping they hadn't dragged you into this mess, Micasa.” Luke sounded gruff as ever, which strangely heartened me. He looked much better than when I watched him being carted away by the gypsies. He pulled me into a one-armed hug, the other still trying to shoo the woman away.

  “I already told you, I'll manage on my own,” he insisted. He took a drag on the cigarette dangling from his lips and exhaled towards her, as if to smoke her away. She shrugged, gave me a brief smile, and wandered off to admire the room, only pausing to exchange pleasantries with Uraj. I assumed she was some subordinate of his.

  “I thought you quit,” I said, frowning. His teeth clamped down on the end of his cigarette.

  “Yeah, well, things have been pretty stressful, and without Winter around to keep me mellow I needed something to take the edge off.”

  “She didn't come with you?”

  He waved his hand, cutting through the acrid cloud building around him. “Not a chance. Winter's too far along to be travelling anymore. She's back in Damkarei, getting ready to have the baby. I'm ready to have a cow myself, I'm so nervous for her.” His eyes landed on Uraj, and he took a deep drag.

  “Speaking of stress, what the hell, Forge!?” He snapped so suddenly I jumped. “Why would you choose a meeting place with so many damn stairs!?” Uraj looked flustered, trying to think up an explanation. Char let out a belly laugh.

  “Aye, that's what ya get fer all yer pride, Kamson!” he chortled. “Ah offered ta give ya a lift, but noooo. Ya jess had ta prova ya could do it!”

  “I would sooner die than let myself be coddled about like an infant,�
� complained Luke. He tugged on the fringes of his coat to straighten it out.

  “S-sorry,” Uraj said again. From how much he was apologizing, he didn't seem to have thought out this plan of his very thoroughly. “Honestly, I wasn't sure if you were going to show.”

  Suddenly, I realized what Luke being there signified.

  “You're coming with us to Grankul??” I asked. He winced a bit.

  “Suppose I am,” he grunted. “Considering we're in Val'Hala without a Gottfried in sight, I assume you actually pulled it off?”

  Uraj stepped up to Luke, holding out his hand. In his palm sat a nullstone. Somehow, it looked like it was sucking in color, dimming everything around it. Luke stared at it, his hand slowly coming up to take it. Before he could grab the rock, Uraj closed his fingers.

  “This is your last chance, Luke. I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you. We still have enough time to pick somebody else,” Uraj said, a hint of pleading to his tone.

  Luke snorted and pried Uraj's hand open, ripping the nullstone free. He rolled it in his palms, weighing it.

  “You already gave me the spiel. If you wanted me to stay, you should have made sure I didn't get on that blasted caravan.” He leveled his gaze with the Old King, and oddly enough, he smirked. “You just hold up your end of the bargain, and everything will turn out fine.”

  Uraj sighed, nodding at last. Seeming satisfied, Luke let go of me and slowly made his way towards Char and Hawke.

  “That settles it, then,” said Uraj. “We have our six.”

  “I'm not so sure about this group, Uraj,” said Hawke. He eyed everyone dubiously, save Silvia, whom he pointedly ignored. “You, Micasa, Char, and me I can deal with. What good is Silvia and Luke, though?”

  “I'll have you know, dipshi—” Luke started to argue, but Char nudged him. The gentle tap almost knocked him off his feet, and his rant died in a fresh torrent of swears. While he muttered to himself, Uraj came closer.

  “Actually, I think things couldn't have turned out much better. Look at it this way, Hawke: we have both Old Kings, a man who has crossed the boundaries of man and grinel, the leader of the human world's only religion, and the most respected journalist in the land attending Conclave. What better representatives of humanity could we ask for?”

  “What about me?” I asked. Uraj looked at me and grinned.

  “You're of the next generation, the one that'll nurture our alliance with them, if all goes well.”

  I got the feeling he was pulling all of this out of his ass, but it did sound impressive the way he put it. He left it unsaid, but the raw strength gathered there was greater than we could have hoped; Hawke and Uraj were the mightiest humans alive, Char wielded the power of the grinel itself, Silvia was corruption incarnate, and if harnessed, Luke's blossoming power may prove the strongest of them all. My little locks seemed tame, in comparison.

  “All well and good that we have our group, but it's about time you tell us how we're going to get to the ship for Grankul,” said Hawke.

  “Ah was wonderin' that meself,” said Char. “We got, what, a week?”

  “Six days,” Hawke corrected.

  “Aye, an' tha docks are at tha tip o' tha Madness, if ah remember.”

  “Hell of a distance we have to cover,” chimed in Luke. He puffed irritably at his cigarette. “A journey like that would be rough to make in a fortnight. You expecting us to run that whole way or something, Forge?”

  “I think you and Silvia would have a hard time making that kind of trip,” Uraj said. “Thankfully, I have a better solution: Chestnut.”

  Silvia and Char looked confused, but Luke coughed at the name.

  “You roped her into this mess, too?” he said, fighting to calm his fit. “I thought it was just us six. Winter won't be happy if she's dragged along.”

  “No, she'll only be giving us an escort to the coast. Your wife will have nothing to worry about,” Uraj assured him.

  So that was what Chestnut had been referring to. I wondered exactly how she was planning on turning a two-week's ride into a six-day sprint.

  “Ladies, gentlemen,” Uraj spoke up in his deepest voice, “we stand on the cusp of a momentous event for humanity. The preparations have already been made. We set out this evening, so I suggest you rest while you can. Once we depart, there will be little time for such luxuries. You may avail yourself to the town's amenities as you wish. Please, just try not to stir trouble.” He avoided looking at Char so determinedly, he might as well have been staring at him.

  “Might as well go see how the filly's doing,” muttered Luke. He flicked the smoldering butt of his smoke on the floor and started limping to the exit. Char crossed the distance between them in two steps and lifted him at the waist, tucking the writer under his tiny arm.

  “For the love of—!” Luke spat. Char just chuckled, hauling away the writer.

  “C'mon, Kamson, let's go find out what tha coffee here's like!” he said cheerfully, ignoring the train of swears Luke chugged out. Silvia looked uneasily towards Uraj.

  “W-would you mind me giving a sermon on the streets, sir?” she squeaked.

  “I don't see why not,” said Uraj. “If anything, the people might be a bit more open to some piety now, more than ever. I'll have some guards go with you, just in case.”

  While Uraj led Silvia outside, I noticed Hawke staring at the woman who had come in with Luke. She was shuffling through the papers Uraj had been working on, reading them with that faint smile still on her lips. I sidled up next to him.

  “What's up?” I said.

  “Doesn't she look familiar? I could swear I've met her somewhere.” He pursed his lips, arms crossed.

  She noticed the two of us watching, and I felt myself blushing. Her smile only grew wider, and she tapped the stack of papers in her hand into a tidy stack.

  “You two could say hi to an old friend, you know,” she said kindly. She had a voice like the perfect drop of honey in tea. That's when I remembered, and in spite of the warm room, I felt goosebumps race down my skin.

  “Ah, I see you've met my stewardess!” Uraj had just come back and was striding towards the woman with a relieved expression. “How do you like Ann?”

  “Ann?” Hawke replied dumbly. He looked as shocked as I felt.

  “Ann Nymis, at your service,” she introduced herself with a slight bow.

  “I tell you, I'd be lost without her,” Uraj said, beaming. “When I was still infirm, she basically ran the country in my stead. She has a way of getting things done quick. She'll be staying here while we're in Grankul, making sure Astra doesn't fall apart in the meantime.”

  “I've always wanted to visit the fabled Val'Hala. I'm afraid I'll only be here long enough to get things in order, though. Then it's back to Damkarei to check on Mrs. Kamson.” She sighed dramatically. “I wanted to see the sights, but I'm afraid there's no rest for these weary bones.”

  “You're a saint and a half,” praised Uraj. He looked back to us. “You know, it was thanks to her handiwork I was able to get that letter to you in the first place. Is she a miracle woman or what?”

  “Oh, stop,” she said, making a show of being embarrassed. Hawke and I were frozen where we stood.

  (He doesn't know, does he?) I muttered out of the corner of my mouth to Hawke.

  (Not a clue,) he muttered back. (Maybe we should fill him in.)

  Uraj's smile faltered a bit at our expressions, but “Ann” just smiled at us. The crow's feet at the edges of her eyes crinkled, and somehow, I could hear what she was thinking.

  Mention a thing, and you'll be sorry.

  Hawke and I glanced at each other. From the look on his face, he had seen it, too.

  There was no real need to break Uraj's illusion of control, anyway. I mean, things were fine as they were, right? After all, it was safe to say that Astra would be treated like family while we were gone.

  Chapter 30: Beyond the Horizon

  For all the weeks of riding Hawke and I had endure
d up until then, none of it compared to the trip Chestnut gave us from Damkarei. We rode night and day from the outset, only dismounting long enough to relieve ourselves when necessary. The task sounded impossible when the equine-friendly gypsy had suggested it. I was more worried for the horses than us; surely, riding with hardly a stop would be the death of the poor animals.

  Yet they galloped with more energy than they had any right to, never slowing even to a canter at any point. Their breath steamed in the cold nights, and their coats lathered until it covered nearly their whole bodies, and still they had rushed through the countryside with reckless urgency. Even the bulky Clydesdale that bore Char's rotund frame kept pace without falter alongside its palfrey and destrier cousins.

  The first night of our trip, I was terrified of the thought of falling asleep on horseback, forcing myself to try and stay awake. When I found myself waking up the next morning, still riding, my violent reaction was almost enough to throw me free of my mount. Only Chestnut's intervention prevented an untimely fall, and she spent the rest of the morning assuring me that I would be fine.

  I wasn't the only one that needed reassurance. Silvia looked absolutely lost on horseback, and Char frequently voiced concerns that his own mount would give out underneath him. Only Hawke, Uraj, and Luke, to my surprise, seemed at ease with the situation. They rested often, their chins bobbing against their chests in rhythm with the beat of the hooves.

  Despite the inexperienced riders and the chancy proposition of sleeping at full gallop, we didn't suffer a single mishap along the way. It was like we were glued to the saddles, prisoners to the small herd ferrying us across the land. It didn't take long for my base needs to outweigh my fears, and I allowed myself to drift off when the trip grew too tiresome.

  Sleeping frequently, night and day ran together in a haze of darkness and light. One moment we were surrounded by golden fields of wheat swaying in the midday breeze, the sun touching my face. Then I would blink, and we'd be in the grip of a forest in the dead of night, gnarled branches leaning forward in the pale moonlight to try and snatch me away.