by Jon F. Merz
Ran smirked as he remembered how he’d been feeling. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like cockiness, but in retrospect, it certainly might have been. He’d fairly demanded his graduation certificates from Tozawa. That wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do. But Tozawa had not only tolerated it, he’d spared him punishment when he’d returned from killing Seiryu.
“Tozawa is an extraordinarily patient man,” said Ran finally.
“He’s had plenty of experience watching his new graduates go off into the world. He’s probably plenty used to the attitude he gets from the likes of us.” Tanka poured them both some wine and set a cup before Ran. “Besides, it’s not like the real world doesn’t set us all straight sooner or later, right? And if we don’t learn, we don’t come home alive.”
“There’s that,” said Ran, thinking about his recent experiences with Kan-Gul and transporting Jysal to the temple. If he’d remained stupid and cocky, he would have surely ended up dead many times over. “Still, it would be good to apologize to Tozawa when I return.”
Tanka shrugged again as he downed the wine. “Tozawa and the clan elders will be more appreciative of any information you can provide as you make your way on your shugyo.”
“You know about that, too?”
Tanka nodded. “Of course. And I can just tell you that I’m jealous as hell about the fact you got one. Me? As soon as I graduated, I got sent here to set up shop. I’ve been in that dirty old disguise so much I sometimes wonder if my bones are getting old.”
“Why here?”
Tanka gestured around. “Big trading post like this? Tons of news comes through here. It’s my job to stay on top of it. Scuttlebutt, gossip, trade secrets, who is angry at whom, that sort of thing. Apparently my aptitude for disguise is what won me this posting. Should have known when I got exemplary marks on that course. They knew exactly how to put me to best use.” Tanka sighed and drank more wine. “In any event, it’s a living and it helps the clan. I get bored often, but it’s great to see you come along. How long are you staying?”
“Long enough to secure passage with a trading caravan heading west,” said Ran. “I’ve got business in a kingdom along the trade routes.”
“Which kingdom?”
“Valrus.”
“Never heard of it.” Tanka sighed. “Should have known you wouldn’t be staying long. Ah well, can I help you with anything?”
Ran gestured to his swords. “Those are the only weapons I have left. Lost most of my traveling kit when my boat ran aground on a reef and we had to swim for it. Any chance of some replacements?”
“Do you still have your senban?”
Ran shook his head. He’d lost the precious flat throwing plates along with the length of chain he carried. “Just the two swords.”
Tanka eyed the shorter blade. “Not the match of the long sword. How’d you come by it?”
“It used to have a different owner,” said Ran as he sipped the last of his wine. “I’ve only recently adopted it.”
Tanka smiled. “Fair enough. I can help with the resupply. I’ve got a cache of weapons here for just that reason. Imported direct from Gakur, by the way.” He rose and walked to another bookcase. When he pulled a single bound volume from the shelf, the case turned on an unseen axis and revealed an alcove with a chest set inside. Tanka rummaged through it, and Ran could hear the sound of clinking metal.
“Here we are,” said Tanka. He set down nine edged throwing plates, each about the size of Ran’s palm.
Ran picked one up and turned it over, feeling the weight of it. Tanka wasn’t lying; the senban had come straight from the forges in Gakur. Ran smiled. “Good to have some of these again.” He gathered them up, folding them over each other in a length of cloth that would inhibit any noise from them as he moved.
Tanka let a length of chain nearly a meter long dribble onto the table top. “Your kusari.”
Ran hefted the chain and studied the links. They had to be perfectly forged in order to stop a sword blade. Fortunately, these were. He slid that into his tunic and nodded at Tanka. “Much better. What do I owe you for them?”
“Owe me?” Tanka grinned. “The clan supplies its agents free of charge, you know that. Besides, sitting here out of that ridiculous get-up and having a bit of wine with a fellow graduate is worth more than what you could pay me, believe me.”
Ran hoisted his glass. “In that case, here’s to the clan.”
Tanka nodded. “Indeed.”
They both drank deep before Tanka put his glass back on the table. “So, have you anything of import for me to pass back to the clan?”
“You have the means to do so here?”
Tanka smiled. “Absolutely. I can get a message back to the clan within twenty-four hours. I use a group of trained falks for just that service. Have you ever seen one?”
“Once. Back in Gakur. One of the teachers showed us. They’re vicious birds.”
“Predatory,” said Tanka. “But indisputably loyal. Once they have a message, they won’t let anything stop them from delivering it. Probably why the clan goes to such lengths to ensure that we have them as our messengers.”
Ran said, “The only bit of information I’ve come across so far is probably better attributed to the maniacal ravings of a madman.”
“Who?”
“Kan-Gul.”
Tanka sat back. “There’s a name I don’t often hear about. They say he uses the undead as his own private army.”
“He did,” said Ran. “He’s no longer alive.”
“You? You killed him?”
Ran shrugged. “I had some help.”
“Incredible. And how long have you been out of Nehon for?”
“Nearly a month, I think.”
Tanka hoisted his glass in Ran’s direction. “You’ve already seen more action than me, my friend. Good of you to rid the countryside of that guy, too, let me tell you. I heard stories about him. No doubt you’ve sent him to a far better place.”
“Kan-Gul said an army was coming over the mountains to the north. Looking to invade the lower lands.”
Tanka set his glass down and leaned forward. “Did you see any evidence to back that up?”
Ran shrugged. “Inside his fortress he had room for plenty of soldiers. There was an armory. Billeting areas.”
“Nothing else?”
“Just the promise of mayhem from Kan-Gul himself. Nothing else.”
Tanka leaned back and rubbed his chin. “I will need to send this back to the clan. Even if it’s nothing, they need to know about it. Ours isn’t to make decisions about the information we get ahold of. We just send it back and let those wiser men make the decisions.”
Ran frowned. “How long until you hear back from them?”
“A day. Perhaps two.”
“I’d hoped to be leaving sooner than that,” said Ran.
Tanka stood. “I’ll send the message immediately, but you’ll have to remain here until I hear back. If the clan wants you to follow up on that information, then your quest will have to wait until such time as they’re satisfied that it poses no danger to our clan.”
“Understood,” said Ran. Although he was loathe to wait any longer than necessary in Chulal.
“Don’t worry,” said Tanka. “Trade caravans won’t be leaving until the end of the week anyway. They all think it’s bad luck to leave before the day of feasts. With any luck, you can hang around, find a caravan that wants you, and, when the time comes, you’ll be ready to ride.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Ran. “I hope you’re right.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Tanka left Ran alone while he went to send the message via falk. Ran found his way out of the apartment and wandered the streets of Chulal. The sun was beginning to set, but Ran figured he still had at least an hour of daylight left. Besides, he wanted to see the harbor area for himself.
Fortunately, Tanka had set himself up only a few blocks from the wharves, and as Ran drew ever closer to the sea, the
scent of salty air grew stronger. Ran smirked as he remembered his most recent sailing adventure and how seasick he’d gotten enroute to Chugal. He had no desire to repeat the experience any time soon.
As he came around a block of buildings, he set eyes on the bustling harbor for the first time. At least a half-dozen merchant transport ships were in port, their sails all furled, and secured to the docks. Ran cast his eyes over the men working to load and unload them. He heard snippets of the guttural sailing language they used and decided he couldn’t think of a harsher-sounding language. He had no idea what they were saying, but the underlying tonality seemed to say that if things weren’t done as ordered then there would be severe repercussions.
As he walked, he was careful to stay away from the stacks of crates and piles of sacks containing goods for sale. These were also guarded by any number of private soldiers that the merchants hired on to oversee their goods. No doubt stealing was rampant down here, and the merchants needed to protect their wares.
Ahead of him, Ran saw a gathering of men who looked different from the sailors. They were well-dressed and plump, which meant they didn’t engage in manual labor as far as Ran could tell. He approached them. As he did so, they looked up in surprise. One of them, larger than the others, hailed him.
“What can we do for you?”
Ran smiled. “I’m wondering where a warrior like myself can inquire about hiring on with a trade caravan. Do you know?”
The man grinned. “What job did you have in mind exactly?”
“Security.”
He laughed. “You’re awfully young to be traipsing about with those swords. What do you know about security anyway?”
Ran’s smile dissolved into a serious expression. “I’m not as young as I might appear. And as for my swords, they’ve seen plenty of action. I can assure you of that.”
“Can you now?” The older man rubbed his chin. “Well, unfortunately for you, son, I don’t take people’s word for it. I need to see for myself what you’re capable of doing. Surely you wouldn’t object to a little demonstration?”
Ran shrugged. “If that’s what you require, mister . . . ?”
“You can call me Yasseh. If you do well on the demonstration, you might even call me boss at some point.”
“What did you have in mind?” Ran shifted his two swords.
Yasseh shook his head. “Nothing with those blades. The last thing we need is the authorities coming down here and making trouble for all of us. But you must possess some degree of unarmed combat skill?”
“I do,” said Ran.
Yasseh smiled. “Excellent.” He clapped his hands and a smaller man appeared out of nowhere. Yasseh didn’t even look at him. “Tell Gunj to come here.”
“Gunj?” Ran almost smiled. The name alone conjured up images of a giant bear with lots of hair sticking out of odd places. Ran removed his swords and handed them to one of the other men in the circle. “Be careful with those.”
When Gunj showed up, he looked nothing like a bear. He looked more like a wisp of a man, but his forearms stretched taut over ribbons of muscle. His face showed a lot of hard living, and the way he moved told Ran that he was exceptionally dangerous. He came up to Ran’s chest and no more. Ran nodded at him, but got no response.
Yasseh smiled. “This is Gunj. He’s been with me for years. I will ask him to test you out. If he thinks you do indeed know how to handle yourself, then perhaps I’ll have a spot for you on my team. If not, well, I’m sure you’ll heal quickly enough.”
“Rules?” asked Ran as he separated from Gunj and the circle around him widened.
Yasseh shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about rules. Do what you have to do to survive. Just don’t do anything that’ll make Gunj angry.”
Ran frowned again. Gunj stood about ten yards away from him with his arms folded across his chest. He yawned and then removed his shirt. A blazing red dragon snaked its way down across his pectoral muscles, blowing fire toward his belly.
Ran pointed at the tattoo. “Nice work.”
Yasseh chuckled. “All the members of Gunj’s school have those emblazoned on them. It’s not by choice.”
“Which school?” asked Ran.
Gunj spat a wad of something at the ground and started moving around Ran. Ran brought his hands up in front of his chest. He had no idea what school of martial arts Gunj might have been from, so until he had some sense of what his fighting style was like, he would play it defensively.
Gunj feinted with a punch and then launched a side kick directly at Ran’s ribs. But Ran didn’t fall for the feint and sidestepped the kick before dropping an elbow onto the side of Gunj’s leg above the knee. Gunj went with the blow and ducked down, trying to sweep Ran’s legs out from under him. Ran leapt high and away, regaining some of the distance that had been lost when Gunj closed the gap.
Gunj came back up on his feet and looked at Ran with a bit more interest now. Ran couldn’t call it respect. Not yet. But Gunj clearly recognized that Ran wasn’t some idiot who thought himself a badass without any skill to back it up. He moved a bit more carefully, feinting and seeing if he could get Ran to commit to a defensive move.
Ran didn’t take any of the bait, which forced Gunj to commit to an attack himself. The wiry man launched a series of punches aimed at Ran’s head. Ran backpedaled, knocking the arms away with hard strikes to the underside of Gunj’s arms. Gunj grunted loudly and redoubled his efforts, but Ran was ready for his next attack and countered before he could launch it. Ran snaked one arm over Gunj’s left arm and dipped down and then back up, acquiring a steep shoulder lock.
Gunj went with the lock and threw himself into a back flip that brought him back onto his feet.
But not before Ran sank a heavy kick into his midsection. Gunj stumbled back, clutching his gut.
He held one hand up, and Ran halted his attack.
As Gunj got back up and sorted himself out, he glanced at Yasseh. “He is very skilled.”
Yasseh nodded with a bit of a surprised look crossing his face. He glanced at Ran. “You realize that’s the first time Gunj has ever been bested. Usually he mops the floor with aspiring security guards. Not you, though. You must be something special indeed.”
Ran took his swords back from the man who had been holding them and shrugged. “Experience is paid for in other ways. I don’t necessarily think I’m special given all the horrors I’ve seen in my short life.”
Yasseh clapped him on the back. “Regardless, what will it cost me to have you come with us?”
Ran eyed him. “What are you transporting?”
Yasseh laughed. “A wise warrior at that.” He shook his head. “We have a shipment of spices and fabrics that are feverishly sought after in the west. Expensive silks and robes that the rich in other kingdoms long to wear to impress their naive friends. We are one of the largest caravans leaving Chulal the day after next.”
Ran wondered if he would have enough time to hear back from Gakur before heading out. He nodded at Yasseh. “What coin do you pay in?”
“I pay in gold,” said Yasseh. “It’s accepted everywhere without these annoying currency exchanges to worry about. One kingdom’s gold is as good as another, I’ve found.”
“I want a sign-on bonus. Three gold pieces.”
Yasseh’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a steep price. I’ll give you two and another ten if we reach the safety of Durfun. From there, you can decide if you wish to continue with us on our way west or go off on your own. There are, after all, many ways for a young man to get distracted along the route.”
“We’ll see,” said Ran. Asking if they intended to stop at Valrus wouldn’t have been wise. Ran’s appearance marked him as a wandering warrior and nothing more. He had no wish for anyone to suddenly become interested in his business. It would be easy enough to find out if Valrus was on their list of stops once the caravan was underway.
Yasseh reached into his tunic and brought out a silken purse with gold-threaded strings. He
doled out two gold coins into Ran’s hand. “Half now. I trust that you won’t take these and leave me wondering where you are when we leave the morning after next?”
“Not all who wander are without honor,” said Ran. “You got yourself a security guard.”
Yasseh nodded. “You’ll meet the other members of the security contingent when we depart. Gunj is also along for the ride, but not as an overt security man. He’ll stay in the background unless things get out of hand somewhere. He prefers to leave the fighting to those he considers disposable.”
Ran smirked. “Refreshingly honest.”
“Gunj has had a lifetime of fighting, and he usually shies away from it unless he’s helping me screen prospects.”
“I thought you said he was never bested.”
“He hasn’t been, but just because he’s better than just about everyone but you, we still need to hire people on to fight for us if bandits attack. Gunj just doesn’t think very much of them is all.”
“Fair enough,” said Ran. “I have a horse. Shall I bring him?”
Yasseh waved his hand. “Not unless your horse has made it through the Kurzjak Desert. You’ll have one of my steeds to take his place. Go and sell him off here in the city.”
“Very well.” Ran turned to leave, but Yasseh called him back.
“You still haven’t given me your name.”
Ran smiled. “I am Ran.”
Yasseh nodded. “Get yourself a meal, drink, and a woman with those gold pieces, my friend. Once we start down the highway, it will be only time for working. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” said Ran. He turned and walked down the street until he came back to a turn where he could be assured that no one from the wharves could see him. He doubled back several times to make sure Gunj or another of Yasseh’s people wasn’t tailing him. He doubted they were, but Gunj was an interesting sort. No doubt the little man was dangerous and had seen a lot of fighting in his time. Ran would need to be careful around him during the length of the journey west.
It was possible, he supposed, that the elders back in Gakur would discount the supposed invasion from his reports. No doubt they must hear all sorts of crazy gossip. If they had to check out every rumor, it would require far too much manpower and resources to explore. Ran fully expected to return to Tanka’s apartments and have his fellow shadow warrior tell him that he was free to go.