The Northern Approach

by Jim Galford

  They passed through the door single-file as Yoska was talking. Estin could not help but gawk at the enormous hinges the wooden doors swung on, seemingly weightless. Simply knowing magic was in use was not the same as seeing the results first-hand.

  Then he noticed the first of the citizens of the city and the reason Yoska’s words trailed off.

  Near the gates, soldiers waited at the ready, likely summoned at the first sign of strangers approaching from the mountains, rather than one of the roads from the west or east. The men were heavily armored, with pikes held vertically, their eyes fixed on the gates in a show of indifference to anything that came or went. There were two such groups, one on either side of the road in, though Estin could not see the faces of many. He could smell them easily.

  At the rear of each group of soldiers, badly decayed armored corpses turned to watch On’esquin with cloudy eyes. The undead wore finer armor than the living, marking them as officers or similar in Estin’s mind. The more he looked around, the more undead he saw among the soldiers. For every living man or woman, there were two more who had been dead a while. Up on the wall, several archers still had arrows or weapons sticking out of their bodies.

  “…safe,” Yoska finished, swallowing hard. “Please tell me to speak after looking next time, no? Speaking too soon makes me look like north side of south-facing horse.”

  With a low rumble, the doors shut behind them and a massive iron bar was slid across, locking the gate once again with a sense of finality that made Estin’s stomach feel as if it was rising into his throat. Still, the soldiers made no hostile movement toward the group as a whole, though their eyes never left On’esquin. Estin had fought his way out of worse with fewer allies, but he had no desire to do so again. Deep down, he knew he was too old to keep doing this.

  “Has this city always allowed necromancy?” asked On’esquin, keeping his head down as Yoska led them past the soldiers in a hurry. “They were absolute prudes about it when I last visited, but you keep telling me that things change.”

  “Never,” Yoska replied sharply, giving Raeln and Estin a tug to hurry them along. “Pholithia has many things wrong with it, but they never allow the dead to walk. Last time I was here, one of my brothers was accused of raising the dead and nearly hung. Took days to explain that he merely used cold water on a cousin that looked dead for how much he had drank the night before. Very uptight people, but not ones I have ever feared.”

  Their group came around the first turn in the road and Yoska slid to a stop and backpedalled, nearly crashing into Estin. Raeln was quicker at stopping than the others and avoided hitting anyone as he slipped past Yoska to peek around the corner of the building they were nearest.

  Following Raeln, Estin glanced around the corner, trying to see what the issue was.

  In the street beyond, undead manned many of the roadside carts and could be seen through the open doors of some of the larger shops. The living did not seem to directly avoid them, but Estin could see that given the chance, most of the living people simply chose to be farther away from the undead than from each other.

  “How did we not smell this before we came in?” asked Yoska, slapping Raeln’s arm. He made as though to do the same to Estin, but Estin glared at him and he let his hand drop. “Two good noses and no warnings?”

  Estin spoke first. “These people are heavily perfumed. I can barely smell the decay now and we’re almost on top of them. Cities stink anyway. It’s easy to hide the smell of corpses from far off. You put these corpses out in the woods and I’ll warn you early.”

  “I’ve been told that I can’t sniff my way out of a burlap sack,” Raeln added, not taking his eyes off the nearest corpses, which seemed to be trying to sell their wares to a group of living human women who avoided them. “I smell the perfume and not much else.”

  Yoska seemed beside himself as he looked from one street to another, apparently unsure where to go. He finally picked a narrow side street where there were no undead and few living. “We get supplies and we go,” he said once they were farther from other ears. “I had hoped to sleep in city bed for few days, but the hard ground sounds better than ever, yes?”

  “Yes, indeed,” agreed On’esquin, putting a hand to the hilt of his sword. “The way they’re watching me…they knew I was coming. Their masters are watching for an orc, and my markings cannot be helping. We could be reported at any time. If there are Turessians in the region, they will investigate.”

  “Always with the good news, this one,” muttered Yoska, turning them up another street and keeping close to the building walls, where there were fewer people. He continued up that street, stopping twice to check for undead before continuing on toward a smaller street that appeared somewhat abandoned. One particular group passed very close to them, and Yoska offered an overplayed bow to them before practically running once their backs were turned.

  “This part of city is where best shopping can be had,” Yoska explained once they had gone far enough up an alley that the hum of the city faded away behind them. “Can buy almost anything in cities when you know best place to go and who does not concern themselves with silly rules.”

  Yoska came to a sharp stop as a human man stepped into the alley ahead of them, blocking their way. The newcomer was dressed in the same heavy cottons as the others in the city, but unlike the short-trimmed hair of the others, this man wore his long and tied back. He carried no weapons, but Yoska shied back away from him anyway.

  Estin started to advance on the man in their path without thinking, but hesitated when he heard more movement behind them. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a second, burlier man with a club in one hand had closed off their escape. Raeln reacted immediately to the armed man, shifting to block him from approaching the rear of their group, relieving Estin of any concern for his own back.

  “I see you cannot take good advice when it is offered, Yoska,” the man in front of them said, crossing his arms. “I told you not to return unless you intended to fulfill your promises.”

  “Thomin, was not exactly a promise,” Yoska said, and Estin saw his hand touch the knives he kept concealed at his side. He did not draw them, which said he was likely trying to warn his companions they were in real danger this time. Whether the others noticed, Estin had no guess. “I said it would be nice if it happened, but did not promise anything.”

  Thomin took a step toward them and On’esquin moved between the man and Yoska, taking on such a hostile demeanor that Estin barely recognized him. Whereas the orcish man was normally very calm and generally pleasant, he had changed his posture to give the impression of a hulking brute, which was what most people expected of an orc. He even huffed with his bottom jaw stuck out, making his tusks appear even more menacing than normal. Were it not for his armor and tattoos, Estin could have mistaken him for any of the orc brutes he had dealt with as a youth living on the streets of Altis.

  “You resort to bodyguards?” Thomin asked, grinning at On’esquin. “Surely, you are not so foolish, Yoska?”

  The man tried to step around On’esquin, but the orc shoved him back with a grunt. As he did, Estin heard the man behind them move closer and Raeln let out a low growl.

  “Is hard to find good help these days, yes?” asked Yoska, holding up his hands as though he could not believe On’esquin’s actions, either. “Big green man does not like strangers touching me. Should I argue with him and say you wish to give me big hug?”

  Sneering, Thomin waved a hand across On’esquin’s face with a flourish. “You clearly are tired, orc. Lay down for a while.”

  On’esquin blinked and watched the man’s hand and then slowly began to grin wickedly, baring rows of sharp teeth. Estin thought back to his son trying attack On’esquin and knew this was going to get ugly quickly. On’esquin was all but immune to magic from what Estin understood.

  Again Thomin made the same gesture, getting a low chuckle from On’esquin as his only response.

  Turning abruptly, On’esquin poin
ted at the man behind the group, whose eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the alleyway. On’esquin then turned back to Thomin and mimicked the man’s hand gesture. “I believe you are the one who is tired,” On’esquin said, and laughed openly as Thomin fell sideways and landed hard on his side, snoring. “Amateur. Do they teach children nothing in these lands?”

  “That man is wizard,” warned Yoska, staring in surprise at the crumpled form before him, snoozing. “He taught my daughter all she knew. Is one of the best in Pholithia.”

  “Nonsense,” countered On’esquin, nudging Thomin with his boot. “Estin’s son was ten times the wizard and he was practically an infant.”

  Ignoring the mention of Atall, Estin yanked the leash off his neck while Raeln did the same nearby. On’esquin and Yoska continued to banter, with the orc casually looking around for anyone who might have seen what he did and Yoska staring in confusion at Thomin’s crumpled form.

  Not willing to waste any time, knowing they could be found out in seconds, Estin dove to Thomin’s side. He ripped through the man’s pouches and pockets, trying to find anything of use. Coins jingled as he shook the man’s pouches, and he dug them out and threw them into his own coin purse. Papers and even what appeared to be a journal or book of spells went into Estin’s bags too. A handful of some cakelike snacks wrapped in wax paper went into another pouch.

  At the far end of the alley, Raeln was dragging Thomin’s bodyguard back into the shadows, keeping low to the ground until he was well away from the street. He pulled the man by his ankles a little farther, then turned and called over his shoulder, “We need to get the bodies hidden before…” Raeln’s eyes fell on Estin and his expression hardened angrily. “What by the dragons do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, rolling the human he carried over toward the wall as he marched toward Estin with the purpose of one who was willing to fight, if needed. “We are not criminals, Estin! Put that back!”

  “You’re an idiot, Raeln,” Estin countered, putting a hand on Thomin’s face. “We were criminals the moment we came into these lands. Our kind are always criminals, whether we do something or not. I’d rather get the supplies we need, regardless of how…unless you have a secret stash of Urishaani currency? I’ve had to do this my whole life and I will not stop now simply because you feel dirty. This is survivor’s law.”

  “I will not stoop to theft,” snarled Raeln, but On’esquin stepped between him and Estin, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.

  Estin looked over at Yoska, finding he was beaming happily.

  Yoska clapped his hands. “Estin is like son I never had. Good upbringing, this one. My own son, not so clever. I blame his parents. Have you ever wanted to roam the lands with a large group of heavy-drinkers, Estin?”

  “No, but I’ve ended up doing it all too often anyway,” Estin admitted, falling in behind Yoska as he slipped the leash back in place. He pointed at Raeln’s. “Get that back on and stop pouting!”

  Raeln appeared ready to argue, but the sound of hard-soled shoes running in their direction came from the street. Raeln sneered and gave Estin a glare that told him their conversation was far from over before pulling his own leash back on. He had barely taken his hands off the rope when a woman in common clothing appeared at the entrance to the alley, giving each of them an annoyed glance, including the bodies on the ground. She turned sharply on her heel and hurried off, walking right past a passing group of soldiers, though she said nothing.

  “As I say, is wonderful city,” Yoska explained, flicking the leashes lightly. “Estin worries too much, but is right. Is not wise to stay in open. Luckily, I know where Thomin’s home is…visited many times. We go there and tie up my old friend, yes? Is better than staying out here, and he and I have big laugh someday about it.”

  “Yes,” replied On’esquin, nodding in agreement. “We can discuss this later.”

  Estin pulled Thomin upright and hooked his arm under the man’s shoulder to try to drag him. He was much taller than Estin, but Estin was certain he could manage for a while. Looking up at the others, he said, “Lead the way. I want to get out of here, quickly.”

  Yoska gave Thomin a sad look and walked down the alley again, letting the leashes drag on the ground.

  Scooping up the other human in his arms, Raeln tossed the man over his shoulder and followed, while Estin dragged Thomin, and On’esquin trailed behind, watching for pursuit. They moved as fast as Estin could pull the considerably larger human, rounding several turns where alleys met and continued toward other streets.

  Soon Yoska stopped at a thick-looking door set into one of the walls, raising a hand to stop the others. Once the whole group had settled and was silent, Yoska knocked several times in a very precise pattern. The seconds passed slowly before a clatter of the door being unlocked came to Estin’s ears.

  The door popped open and Yoska leapt into motion, drawing one of his knives and bringing it up to the throat of a long-haired, dark-skinned woman who stood in the doorway. She tried to close the door quickly, but Yoska put himself in the opening, grabbing her by the neck with his other hand to keep her from pulling away.

  “Hello again, Ira,” he said, grinning. “I have brought your husband home again, though this time he is not so drunk. You made me promise never to show up here with him reeking of drink, no? He does not reek more than normal, so do open the door and let us in. Is only polite.”

  The woman seemed unconcerned, glaring at Yoska as though he had merely tracked mud onto her floor. She looked over at Estin, then Raeln, and finally On’esquin with only her eyes, not moving her head at all, before returning her attention to Yoska. She did not so much as glance at Thomin or his thug. “Yoska, my friend,” Ira said gently, as if she were trying to talk down a child from a dangerous situation. “Do take your knife off of me. I would hate to demonstrate that I am still quicker than you.”

  Estin followed the woman’s arms and saw she had two gleaming knives pressed to Yoska’s lower stomach. He reached for his own weapons, but realized he was unarmed—a precaution required by the act of being a slave. On’esquin carried his and Raeln’s weapons, and he was farther away than Estin and appeared not to have noticed the exchange at the door yet.

  Yoska and Ira stared at each other a while, neither moving their weapons. Eventually Yoska smirked and twirled his knife away from Ira’s neck, and it disappeared into his belt. The moment he moved his blade away, both of Ira’s vanished into folds in her dress. They both showed their open hands and stepped away from one another.

  “Friends,” Yoska said to his companions, though he did not take his eyes off Ira, “this is Ira, a distant cousin. She did not heed advice to marry better man than Thomin, to my dismay.”

  “The thief continues to look down on me for marrying a thief,” the woman groused, opening the door the rest of the way and gesturing for them to come inside, without giving Thomin more than a glance. Estin realized Ira had no accent, though her appearance and even clothing-style seemed far closer to the gypsies Estin had met than to the people of this city. Her dark-green dress was a soft fabric—not silk, but certainly not the cottons of the area. “Get your urchins inside before you’re seen, cousin. I would feel some small degree of guilt to collect the bounty on your head. I would get over it eventually.”

  Grinning, Yoska bowed his head in thanks and stepped into the house. Estin followed him, dragging Thomin up the step with a thump that earned him a mildly annoyed scowl from Ira, though she said nothing. The others came in behind him, with Estin’s fox bounding past the woman last, and then Ira closed and barred the door, eyeing the animal warily.

  Once everyone was inside, Ira listened to the door for a moment, clearly checking for pursuit. She soon seemed satisfied and turned sharply from the door to Yoska. “I told you to stop bringing Thomin home drunk. This was not an invitation for you to bring him home dead. You were also not to show your face around here unless Varra came with you.”

  “You are still holding me to our litt
le bargain?” Yoska asked, sitting down in a nearby chair and feigning shock. “Was a discussion, nothing more, yes? Besides, Thomin is not dead and he will surely remind you that we should not discuss such things in front of friends.”

  Going to an empty section of the entry room and letting Thomin flop limply, Estin curled up on the hard wooden floorboards to listen to the others. His stomach churned and he felt sick hearing the name they discussed like family. Varra had been the first human to treat him decently, and for that, she had died in front of him, killed by a Turessian. He had watched the life leave her—that had been the moment that pushed him out of Altis for good. Later she had returned as one of the undead and nearly killed him and Feanne, after butchering many of their friends. The girl was incredibly dangerous and had come very close to killing her father, Yoska. How he had survived, Estin had no idea, nor did he really want to ask.

  Ira finally gave each of the men in her home a hard look, her eyes pausing for an uncomfortably long time on On’esquin’s face. She seemed entirely uninterested in Raeln and Estin, though Estin did notice her lips curl in amusement as she studied the leashes they wore. Something in her expression told him she understood completely and likely had dealt with Yoska long enough that she did not have to ask.

  “You pledged the girl to our boy,” Ira went on, nudging Thomin in the side with her toe. The man snored loudly and Ira rolled her eyes. As she continued talking, Estin noticed a hint of gypsy accent begin to emerge. “It was a fit marriage that both children seemed happy about. We all agreed on it, and then you disappeared with the girl for…how long has it been?”

  “Three years, yes?” Yoska said with a shrug. “We would have come back sooner or later. You cannot tell a free spirit when and where it should travel. You, of all people, should know that.”

  “Don’t give me that, Yoska,” she snapped back. “You go where you want and apparently you wanted to go anywhere but here after we struck that deal. Do you intend to honor your pledge or is this Varra’s doing?”