by AC Cobble
“There are plenty of barges,” argued Ben. “We had no problem finding one before Tomas found us.”
“There are plenty now because it’s harvest,” responded Rhys.
Ben was about to ask another question when Towaal held up a hand and demanded, “Everyone, stop!”
They all halted and put hands on their weapons, looking around on high alert. The forest seemed peaceful.
Lady Towaal was peering around intensely.
“Do you feel it?” she asked.
Ben frowned. All seemed normal to him.
Rhys whistled in appreciation. “Subtle. I would have walked right into that.”
Lady Towaal glanced at Amelie, who was staring ahead pensively.
Ben looked in the same direction. The trail continued on like it had been doing for days. Thick mountain laurel edged into the path, backed by tall oak and elm trees. Nothing stirred that he could see.
“I…” mumbled Amelie. “I feel something. I’m not sure what it is.”
Towaal beckoned her closer. “Come. We’ll approach it from the side and I will show you.”
The two women pushed into the forest. In a rustle and crash of branches, they vanished from sight.
“I guess they aren’t worried about being overheard?” remarked Ben.
“I don’t think anyone is nearby,” replied Rhys, standing relaxed in the center of the path.
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“Wait and see,” said Rhys.
Minutes later, Towaal and Amelie reappeared.
“Let’s go,” said Towaal, waving to the men. “We can pass it undisturbed.”
Amelie, seeing Ben’s look of incomprehension, explained, “A ward.”
“A magical ward?” asked Ben.
She nodded. “It’s a little wooden device wedged in the nook of a tree branch. Towaal says there will be another one on the other side of the path. They are connected somehow. Anything that passes between will trigger an alarm.”
“There are magical wards?” asked Ben again.
“Of course there are,” replied Lady Towaal, looking at him curiously.
“Are there,” Ben swallowed, thinking furiously. “Are there any magical wards on the north river bank of the Sanctuary? Ones that could be tripped if someone snuck in there?”
“No,” denied Towaal. “The Sanctuary doesn’t need wards. Who would be so foolish as to…oh, right.” Towaal shook her head, turned from Ben, and pushed her way back into the undergrowth.
In the brush, Ben heard Towaal muttering under her breath, “How they managed to avoid being caught before I found them, I will never know.”
Rhys clapped Ben on the back and said, “You learn something useful every day, don’t you?”
They all shoved their way through the mountain laurel after Towaal. She steered them through the undergrowth until they were behind a nondescript tree. From where they were standing, Ben could see the side of a palm-sized wooden disc, similar to the one Amelie carried, which she said was a repository of power. This close, Ben felt the disturbance the thing created, like a buzzing at the edge of his consciousness. It felt like a bee was flying around just outside of where he could see it.
“What you feel,” described Towaal, “Is a disruption in will.”
Amelie and Ben stared at her blankly.
“This device and its partner on the other side of the path are creating a field within which a minor suggestion is being made. It’s probably something very simple. Scratch your arm or sneeze. It’s a light suggestion, so someone of strong will could easily resist it without knowing. An animal, or someone of weak will, would likely comply. If the suggestion is resisted, that would trigger an alert to whoever set this field up and tell them that a person or persons of reasonably strong will passed through.”
Ben studied what he could see of the disc. It was covered in intricate carvings but seemed simply made. Any artisan that worked in wood could replicate it.
“What do those etchings mean?” asked Ben.
“I am not entirely sure,” replied Towaal. “Generally, they help focus the creator’s will into the device and retain whatever activity it is meant to do.” She shrugged. “I am not very knowledgeable about these things other than an awareness that they exist.”
“But you’re a full mage!” exclaimed Amelie.
Towaal ruefully shook her head. “Girl, the more you learn, the more you will realize what you don’t know. Creating something like this requires extensive knowledge in an area which I have not studied. No one person, even the Veil, knows everything there is to know.”
They edged around the mysterious device and returned to the path.
“So, does that mean a mage is nearby?” wondered Ben nervously.
“They are not likely on this path, or they would just watch for us instead of setting the device,” answered Towaal. “I don’t think we need to be concerned about running into someone immediately, but it does mean someone thought we might travel this direction. It could have been Lady Ingrid, or it could be someone else. When we get to Northport, we’ll have to be cautious. At least one mage thought we might travel this way.”
Ben groaned.
10
Corinne and Grunt
Two weeks later, they peered from behind a thicket of brambles at the city of Northport. Sturdy walls rose the height of ten grown men and spread out for half a league in each direction. Around the walls, all growth had been cleared for at least five hundred paces. It gave the guards on the wall an ample killing ground for anything that approached. No buildings or even vendor’s stalls stood outside of the walls.
On top of the wall, Ben could see the tiny figures of guards on patrol. There weren’t many of them, but it was clear Northport was prepared for battle. Catapults and ballista stood at regular intervals.
“Are they expecting an attack?” worried Ben.
Rhys replied, “They’re always expecting an attack up here and there are always guards on the walls. It’s demon country. This appears a little unusual though.” Rhys pointed down the wall in the distance where a handful of men were standing at the base. As they watched, a huge pile of rock rose into the air, lifted by a pulley system atop the wall. Another group of men stood on top to unload the rock.
“Ammunition for the catapults,” explained Rhys.
“What do you think they’re getting ready for?” asked Ben.
Rhys shrugged.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go in until we know more,” suggested Ben, shifting nervously around the bramble bush to get a better look.
“We have to go in!” exclaimed Amelie. “We are so close now.”
Lady Towaal put a placating hand on Amelie’s shoulder. “It likely has nothing to do with us. Whatever they are preparing for, we need to go inside and find out more.”
The companions moved out from the cover of the forest and started toward the arched gates of Northport. Two huge iron doors marked the entrance, but only one of them stood open. It was still wide enough for two wagons to pass abreast, but Ben took it as another sign Northport was preparing for something.
They joined a short line of wagons waiting at the gate for inspection by a heavily armored team of guards. Unlike all of the other cities they passed into, these men were actually inspecting the goods in the wagons before letting them pass. This wasn’t a simple glance to determine a customs tariff, this was a security measure.
When they got to the front, a brutish man with a wild, bushy beard asked, “Purpose of your visit?” He was eyeing their weapons closely.
“We’re looking for employment,” replied Rhys. “A few years back, I heard there is a rich bounty for demon horns. What is the problem here? Is that not the case anymore?”
The guard grunted. “Aye, there is a bounty. Though there ain’t too many going into the Wilds these days.” He waved for them to pass and turned his attention to the next wagon.
Once inside the gate, Amelie whispered, “Well, that was easier than I expected.
”
“They are used to hunters up here. It’s the one place looking menacing and going armed actually helps you fit in. Getting inside Rhymer’s keep might be a little trickier.”
“I can just announce myself,” offered Amelie. “Lord Rhymer knows me. I am sure he will grant us an audience.”
Rhys shook his head but Towaal was the one who responded. “You can’t announce yourself. We know a mage was watching for us to travel this way. Remember the ward? If you are declaring yourself at Rhymer’s gates, we might as well hang a big sign for her pointing to where we’ll be sleeping. We must be subtle and get to Rhymer without alerting his entire staff to our presence.”
“That sounds like my area of expertise,” chimed in Rhys with a grin.
Curious, they followed Rhys deeper into the city. The streets were teeming with people, and at first glance, it didn’t seem so different from the other big cities Ben visited. After a while though, he noticed that nearly everyone here was armed. From the plate-and-chain encrusted guards at the gate to a woman selling soup out of a cart, no one was walking the streets without some type of weapon.
The soup seller carried a long knife at her belt. It was close in size to a short sword. She had a separate hand-length blade she used to carve a bowl out of a loaf of bread then ladled a steaming heap of soup into it. A man nodded thanks to her and passed a few coins before making his way down the street, sipping from the bread bowl. A longsword hung on his belt and a crossbow was strapped to his back.
“Everyone here is armed,” observed Ben to his companions.
Rhys sarcastically replied, “The bar fights must be epic.”
Rhys was trying to make light of it, but Ben could sense the tension in his friend. The rogue lived in Northport years before. It was obvious that this level of militarization was not normal.
In half a bell, they made it to the hulking stack of stone that was Rhymer’s keep. There was none of the elegance of buildings in the City. Not even the brutal artistry of Argren’s fortress. This was simply a huge pile of stone built to resist whatever the elements and enemies could throw against it. The stone was stained black from generations of smoke and weather.
“Not the most attractive place,” noted Amelie.
“It’s been here for a long time,” remarked Rhys. “This keep stood here before the rest of the current city. That outer wall is over six hundred years old. It’s new compared to the keep.”
“How will we get inside?” asked Ben.
“Well, normally I would find a chambermaid. The lustiest one that’s available…” Towaal cut Rhys off.
“Be serious, we don’t have time for this,” she warned.
He sighed. “We need to find the gate where they take the slops out.”
“What did you say?” asked Amelie. She hadn’t been paying close attention. She was peering intensely at the people who passed them. Looking for mages, Ben guessed.
“The gate where they take the slops out,” expanded Rhys. “They’ll have the laziest, most junior guards working at that one. We talk our way in there.”
“We just talk our way in?” asked Amelie skeptically.
“Yeah. We’re not trying to get into Rhymer’s changing room. There are thousands of people in that keep and most of them will be guards. The fellows at the gate, they don’t care if we go in as long as it doesn’t come back on them. They just want to finish their shift then go have a drink and a twirl.”
Amelie crossed her arms but kept silent. Her view of the way a lord’s men should behave and Rhys’ view of how they actually behaved didn’t always match.
The slop gate was a narrow door set at the base of the keep in the back. It was barely wide enough for a hand cart to be pulled down. There was a small window the size of Ben’s two hands put together. No one was outside.
“Where are the guards?” inquired Ben.
“Inside,” answered Rhys. “They’re probably asleep. You can’t keep them outside or it would be too easy to jump them and get in. Plus, it just makes you look bad when people see sleeping guards in front of entrances to your keep.”
They walked up to the gate and it turned out the guards weren’t actually asleep, although they were caught by surprise when Rhys pounded on the iron-bound oak door.
Startled, two young men who looked in danger of being swallowed by their oversized armor jumped to attention.
“Step away from the door!” demanded one of them when they saw Rhys peering through the tiny window. “All business must go through the front gate.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” drawled Rhys. “I don’t have any official business. I’m here to surprise my girl.”
“You still have to go to the front gate,” declared the guard.
“Come on. Help a guy out!” pleaded Rhys. “It’s our anniversary and I’ve got a plan to sneak into her room. I’ll put some flowers and the like around. She’ll love it.”
“There is no sneaking in this gate,” whined the guard.
“You’re right. That was a poor choice of words,” admitted Rhys. “It’s not sneaking, really. Some of my girl’s friends are in on it. I was told to come this way so there is no chance she’d see me. Her friends are supposed to meet me at the Queen’s Garden. They’ll take me to my girl’s room.”
“She has a room here. Who is she?” asked the guard.
“She’s, ah, Karina. A chambermaid. A lusty one,” he added helpfully. “You may know her. She has a lot of friends in the guards.” He glanced at his companions and winked. They were standing back where the guards couldn’t see them through the window.
Towaal rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“I don’t, uh, I don’t know her,” replied the guard.
“That’s your loss,” consoled Rhys, “but, hey, I realize you guys would be doing me a favor, so let me make it up to you. It’s worth a silver coin for each of you if you let me in. It would really mean a lot to me and my girl. Maybe I could introduce you to some of her friends later? They work all of the time and don’t get out a lot. They’re always looking for some kids, some men, I mean, like you, to show ‘em a good time.”
“I’m not sure…” wavered the guard.
Rhys flashed two silver coins outside of the window and smiled his friendliest smile.
The voice of the second guard broke in. “I could use that silver. You sure you’ll introduce us to your girl’s friends? Chambermaids, you said?”
“Yeah, of course I will,” replied Rhys. “If you let me in, I’ll talk to her tonight. She’ll be in a good mood after my surprise. We can see about setting up a party or something.”
The guards broke and two bolts noisily slid out of the door frame.
Rhys gestured to his companions and pushed his way inside as soon as the door started to move. He pressed the coins into the guard’s hands and pulled Amelie along after him, before the guards realized more people were coming in.
“Hey!” shouted one of them, trying to block their path. The guard had seen maybe fifteen summers. His head barely cleared Ben’s shoulder. Ben gently nudged him out of the way and kept walking.
“Who are these people!” exclaimed the red-face guard.
Rhys swept down the narrow hallway, not pausing. “You had better close that door,” he called back. “You don’t want anyone sneaking in here.”
The hallway from the slop gate was narrow and long. It passed deep into the keep before emerging again in a small courtyard ringed by nondescript doors. Rhys paused briefly before selecting one and steering them into another hallway. They passed by a series of doors then began ascending a set of stairs.
“Does he know where he’s going?” whispered Ben.
“Probably not,” responded Towaal tartly, “but neither do I. So, we may as well follow him.”
Occasionally, they would pass other people, but no one stopped them. Ben couldn’t help but notice even the chambermaids carried belt knives. These people were ready for something.
Before l
ong, the hallways widened and Rhys started moving slower. Under his breath, he muttered something about real guards.
Ben and Amelie exchanged nervous glances, but then Ben thought, they weren’t actually sneaking, they were just trying to be found by the right person.
Next, tapestries and standing suits of armor appeared along the walls. The tapestries largely depicted scenes of battle with the occasional portrait of one of Northport’s previous lords. The armor wasn’t merely decorative, the stuff had seen use. Ben guessed that it also belonged to previous lords of Northport. Possibly it had been worn in famous battles of old.
Strangely, there were no signs of wealth like he had seen in other keeps. Argren’s hallways were practically paved in silver and gold.
“I thought Northport was wealthy?” questioned Ben, looking at a battered and tarnished set of plate armor.
“Don’t whisper,” replied Rhys. “It makes it look like we’re sneaking.”
“Okay,” responded Ben, a little too loudly. He cringed as his voice filled the empty hallway.
Rhys rolled his eyes and muttered, “Where is a good thief when you need one? Too bad Renfro didn’t make this trip.” He paused. “Well, maybe not Renfro either.”
Ben snorted.
Rhys finally answered, “Northport doesn’t display luxury items because they don’t need to. The other lords are showing off and trying to impress their guests. Northport though, everyone already knows they have wealth. This is where gold, silver, and gemstones actually come from. They are too commercially minded here to waste resources by setting it on a table in some hallway only the maids walk down.”
They turned another corner and Rhys gestured everyone to silence. Ahead of them were three slender courtiers dressed for a ball. The group was one of the few Ben had seen who weren’t armed. Rhys led their party to follow closely behind the trio.
Around several more turns and down a set of stairs, suddenly they walked into a wide-open foyer. The ceiling soared four floors above Ben’s head. Banners hung from it, both ancient and new. Circling the space was an army of empty suits of armor, standing like silent sentinels. Like the ones in the hallways, these had all seen use.