The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ❖

  The clanging of hammer on metal lasted most of the day and nearly drove Coinin out of his mind. Hur’al, Coinin, Aniol, and Axl had travelled to the small village of Hornspeak, several miles from the farm. They sought out a blacksmith and found one on the outskirts of the village, which suited them since they wished to remain inconspicuous. They had remained incognito quite well thanks to their simple clothing borrowed from Hur’al’s friend, the farmer.

  There had been one heart in the mouth moment on their journey, and they wished for no more. They had been stopped at a checkpoint set up by the King’s men on the road that led from the farm. Thankfully, Hur’al was a quick talker and knew how to grease the palm of the guards sufficiently for them to look the other way.

  Axl, using charcoal, had drawn on the backside of a lambskin a design for an iron ice breaker that would use a pulley system to haul a large iron weight aboard Hur’al’s ship and systematically drop it into the ice before the prow of the vessel. This would break the ice and allow the ship to float free of its prison. At least that was the theory Axl had alluded to.

  The half-brick forge was set back from the main track that bisected the village and had high wooden doors tied back against the frame with stout rope. Smoke poured from a stack on the roof, and an escaping cloud of steam billowed from the doorway. Coinin had ventured inside and immediately retreated, hardly able to breathe. He stood at the door and watched the blacksmith, covered in a thick leather tunic, heat his furnace with a set of bellows.

  Coinin kicked his heels against a fence, to Aniol’s disapproval, while he listened to Axl drone on and on about different angles and thicknesses of metal to the decidedly red-faced blacksmith. He was an old man, and when he had met them he had talked about his daughter, Anah who, many years ago, had taken over the forge while he recovered from an injury that had very nearly killed him. He was also a sad man who hadn’t seen her since the day they had argued over her new love, a young Brotherhood soldier who whisked her away to new life. Sadly, his memory had faded, and he could no longer remember the name of the soldier.

  Coinin assumed the old man’s loss must feel like his own, for his parents and now Marrok.

  The clang of the hammer subsided, and then a mighty hiss left the forge as the blacksmith quenched the great iron weight and doused the metal joints of the oak frame with water to dramatically cool it. He stood back and wiped his hands with a cloth and stood there satisfied. ‘Now that makes a change from horseshoes,’ he grinned.

  Coinin paid the man and left an extra gold piece for him out of sympathy for his lost daughter.

  ‘You have a kind heart young man, much like my daughter’s,’ said the blacksmith sadly.

  ‘I hope that you get to meet her again someday,’ Coinin replied and patted the old man’s arm affectionately.

  ‘I do hope so; she was my life.’ The old man wandered away, wiping a tear as he went.

  Aniol, Coinin noted, had turned away, perhaps to wipe a tear also. ‘Such a moving story,’ she said.

  ‘The world is full of them, each destined to break the heart,’ Coinin told her.

  ‘Coinin, would you help Axl and I get this thing on the dray?’ Hur’al yelled.

  He turned to see the two men struggling to carry the iron and oak pulley from the forge.

  ‘It’s heavier than it looks,’ Axl said with a wry smile.

  ‘Can I help?’ Aniol offered.

  ‘No, you can stand guard,’ Hur’al wheezed.

  Coinin took hold of a corner of the tri-cornered iron that the blacksmith had crafted and heaved the heavy object. It took every ounce of his strength to keep it aloft, and he shook violently with the strain. With a cry, the trio eventually succeeded and deposited the device onto the waiting dray, its sheer weight causing the wheels to sink further into the snow covering the track.

  ‘We may have to walk behind this thing. I don’t think the dray will take much more weight,’ Axl announced.

  ‘We will experience much worse hardships in the coming months, I’m sure,’ Hur’al replied knowingly. ‘Let’s shift it and get moving shall we?’

  Coinin and Axl nodded and followed Hur’al into the forge. The building had been designed well and was used to fabricate large items. A substantial cylindrical mass made from several smaller cylinders waited for them. It was half the size of Coinin, and yet easily weighed three or four times his body weight. The blacksmith had fashioned a cone and welded this to the top of the cylinder. This now pointed upwards. Two leather carrying straps had been fixed to the iron weight, and it was Hur’al and Axl who struggled with it, intermittently rocking and then carrying it until it was in position behind the sideless waggon. Axl leapt onto the dray and took hold of both straps while Hur’al heaved from below. After lots of puffing and panting, they managed to lift the ice breaker aboard. Hur’al and Axl both sat exhausted on the floor of the cart and burst into tired laughter.

  The old blacksmith returned with a pail of water and a ladle. Hur’al and Axl greedily satiated their thirsts, and despite the cold, Hur’al doused himself with a ladleful. ‘That’s better,’ he said satisfied. ‘Coinin, can you lead the oxen? I’m going to lie down here for a moment.’

  Coinin nodded and shook the hands of the old blacksmith, and suddenly got the unmistakable impression that this old man was somehow familiar to him.

  ‘Are you sure I don’t know you?’ Coinin asked of him.

  ‘I don’t see how’ the blacksmith replied honestly.

  ‘Hmm. Well, it has been a pleasure. I hope we can meet again someday.’

  ‘Please, call me Aatu. I wish you Godspeed in your travels.’

  Coinin smiled and walked to the front of the dray, then unhitched the oxen’s reins from a fencepost. Aniol jumped aboard and sat cross-legged next to Hur’al. Axl joined Coinin, and together they led the laden cart down the rutted track leading from the village. The wheels slurped through slush and gave off sucking sounds.

  ‘He was a nice man,’ said Axl. ‘He had your eyes.’

  Coinin looked at Axl with puzzlement. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’re sad; you have sad eyes,’ Axl replied.

  ‘I suppose you’re right. Life has been hard on that old man. I shall return one day and visit him again.’

  ‘I think he’ll like that. He seemed to take a shine to you.’

  Coinin laughed noncommittally. ‘Axl, please tell me a little about yourself. How did you end up at the temple?’

  Axl pulled a face as if trying to remember. ‘I was the servant of a minor Lord in the Kar Province. Have you heard of it?’

  Coinin shook his head. ‘No. Please, do tell me.’

  Axl smiled and seemed pleased to be asked to talk about his home. ‘I’ve never had a family as long as I can remember. As I understand it, I was sold as a very small child to Lord Sinza. My parents could not afford to keep me.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Coinin genuinely.

  ‘It’s all right; I was so young that I don’t remember. I grew up in a town called C’Tharl. It was a small town really, overseen by the Lord, and as soon as I was old enough to hold a broom or tend to the garden, I was set to work. I lived in a compound of high mud walls and was never permitted to leave. I saw the same patch of sky and very little else for many years.’

  ‘My childhood was very different,’ Coinin said. It must have been so hard for you.’

  ‘It was indeed a hard life, though things changed when the Lord’s own son died. He was roughly my age, and a kind, intelligent boy. It was sad really. As I grew, my duties changed, and I had progressed to cleaning the Lord’s study. He had a grand library, and made models and invented machines, much like I do. I became so obsessed with his work that I would sneak into his study every moment I could to play with the models. I couldn’t read, but I enjoyed the pictures.’

  ‘Let me guess. You got caught.’ Coinin raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Correct. At first, the old man was furious, anno
yed that a servant would dare disturb his things in this way. I begged and pleaded that he not beat me, which I feared he would. He instead congratulated me on having a curiosity about how things work that rivalled his own. From that day he took me under his wing and instructed me in many things including how to read, and my favourite of all, cartography.’

  ‘Cartography?’ Coinin asked, unsure of the term.

  ‘In essence, the study of and the making of maps. I enjoyed this so much that much of my time was devoted to the creation of very detailed examples. The Lord was so pleased with my work that he sold many of them.’ Axl looked away for a moment, and Coinin thought he caught a tear in the young man’s eye. ‘He sold so many that one day he told me I had bought my freedom with a portion of the profits from the proceeds. I asked him why he had done this. He replied that I had shown him a joy he had lost since the death of his son.’

  Coinin arched his eyebrows and urged Axl to continue, content to listen to another’s tale for once.

  ‘The reason, he said, was that he wished to adopt me into his household as heir to his title. I was shocked, to say the least. I was essentially a slave, and here I was given the opportunity my kind could only dream of.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Coinin asked.

  Axl looked a little nostalgic and stared into the distance for a time. Coinin remained quiet and instead listened to Hur’al snoring heavily behind them. The dirt track widened as they joined a larger trading route. It was dangerous to be so exposed, yet they had no choice. At least the tree cover that lined this stretch of road sheltered them from a harsh wind that passed through the valley. Axl coughed, bringing Coinin back to the moment.

  ‘My new father, for that, is what I was to call him, said I must gain an education so that I would know how to run his lands. He shipped me off to The Brotherhood to learn, and I’ve been with The Order now for two years.’

  ‘Are there no schools in Kar Province?’ Coinin asked.

  ‘Sadly, no. The rulers there forbade anyone to learn many years ago, so now those who wish to do so must study in secret. Father discovered that The Brotherhood is the soul of discretion when it comes to these matters.’

  ‘That’s quite a tale, Axl. What do you plan to do once your education is complete?’

  ‘I will return to my father and oversee the lands under his guidance.’

  ‘And what of Aniol?’

  Axl lowered his voice. ‘I plan to marry her of course and take her with me.’

  Coinin felt ill. He had become so accustomed to having Aniol around, that the thought of her leaving made him sick.

  ‘What are you two whispering about?’ Aniol called from the back of the dray.

  ‘Nothing,’ they replied simultaneously.

  Aniol rolled her eyes playfully and then frowned. She shook Hur’al awake. ‘Hur’al, we’re approaching the watchtower.’

  Hur’al sat up and rubbed his eyes, then turned to see it looming. This and buildings like it dotted the landscape along the major trading routes. A decade ago they were manned by Brotherhood soldiers, though King Hantestum had begun to gradually replace The Order's military with his own.

  A crenellated wall of wood ran the circumference of the tower, and an archer monitored the road from this vantage point. The building marked a checkpoint set up by the King to oversee the comings and goings of his people.

  Hur’al sprang into action. He demanded all weapons be placed out of sight and took Axl and Coinin’s place. ‘I will be the one to speak. Play dumb the rest of you; we got past them once, there’s no guarantee we will succeed a second time.’

  Coinin, Aniol, and Axl nodded and busied themselves doing nothing.

  Hur’al halted the dray on request from the King’s guard who blocked the path.

  ‘State your business,’ the guard demanded.

  Hur’al adopted a subservient manner and bowed before the guard. ‘I’m just a simple tradesman. I’m delivering goods to a customer.’

  The guard lifted Hur’al’s chin and stared at him. ‘I haven’t seen you around here before. What town are you from?’

  ‘I’m from Banial,’ Hur’al bluffed.

  The guards studied Hur’al further. ‘I have a cousin who runs the Golden Dragon Inn there. You might know of him.’

  ‘You and I both know there is no such inn called the Golden Dragon in Banial, that’s in the next town over,’ Hur’al replied confidently.

  The guard laughed and clapped Hur’al on the back. ‘Yes, of course, my mistake. Please go about your business.’ The guard turned to his colleagues. ‘Let them through.’

  Hur’al breathed easier as several guards stepped aside and opened a path for the dray. Urging the oxen onward, the fugitives made their escape. On the opposite track, a rider on horseback, dressed in the King’s uniform, raced past them and dismounted quickly. He reached into his courier bag and retrieved a scroll.

  The Captain of the guard exited the tower and approached the messenger. He accepted the scroll and broke the seal, then read the contents and shrugged. Passing the scroll to his Lieutenant, he retired into the tower, seemingly uninterested in the message the courier had delivered.

  The Lieutenant waved the courier on and opened the scroll, and stared at it blankly for a minute.

  Coinin and Aniol saw the activity first. The watchtower guards reached for their weapons on the orders of the Lieutenant and then charged after the slow-moving cart.

  ‘Hur’al, we have a problem,’ Coinin began. ‘The guards are giving chase.’

  Hur’al dropped the reins guiding the oxen and cursed. ‘I was afraid of this. Axl? Do you have anything for this in your bag of tricks?’

  Axl shook his head. ‘Not unless you want to set them on fire.’

  Hur’al thought quickly, seeking a way out of this dangerous situation.

  ‘Maybe not the guards, but the watchtower. Axl, I want you to set fire to the tower,’ Coinin ordered. ‘Go now, use the cover of the trees.’

  Axl grabbed his satchel and without hesitation dashed into the tree line. Carefully he picked his way past the advancing men.

  Coinin stepped forward, his hands in the air. ‘We surrender,’ he announced.

  Hur’al looked mutinous and about ready to run, and then he too raised his hands. Aniol followed suit with a silent prayer.

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing boy,’ Hur’al whispered.

  ‘Not any more than you do. I just hope that Axl’s distraction will work.’

  The King’s guards stopped just short of them, and the Lieutenant brandished his weapon. ‘There were four of you. Where is the fourth?’

  ‘He’s run off like a coward and left his girl defenceless,’ Hur’al replied.

  ‘Well, no matter, we shall round him up soon enough,’ the Lieutenant smiled unpleasantly. He sheathed his sword and retrieved the newly delivered scroll from about his person and opened it before Hur’al. ‘Is this you?’ he said, pointing to a likeness and description of Hur’al. Below an image of the pirate was his description even down to the scarring, and underneath this, descriptions of his accomplices, two of which were now in custody.

  ‘That could be anybody,’ Hur’al said, trying to make a light of it.

  ‘I don’t think so. With the authority of the King, I place you under arrest,’ the Lieutenant informed.

  ‘Where will you take us?’ Aniol asked boldly.

  ‘To the tower.’

  ‘The tower that’s on fire?’ Coinin interrupted, trying hard not to smile.

  ‘Eh, what?’ The Lieutenant turned to survey the tower belching smoke and flames and turned very pale. He seemed undecided what to do, panic rising in him.

  ‘Perhaps you should send your men back to the tower to douse it,’ Hur’al prompted. ‘I mean, the King might not be too happy to hear that one of his expensive watchtowers has burnt to the ground.’

  ‘You lot,’ he said to the guards. ‘Head back and put out that fire.’

  ‘What about th
e prisoners?’ one guard asked.

  ‘I will take care of them, you worry about the tower.’

  His subordinates saluted and raced off at full speed, leaving the Lieutenant to stand guard.

  ‘Now, let me make this clear. You are my prisoners, and if there’s any funny business, I will run you through. Is that understood?’ the Lieutenant asked.

  Aniol cocked her head. ‘Does that order stand if we aren’t your prisoners?’

  ‘Well, no of course not.’

  ‘Good. Then this is goodbye,’ Aniol smiled sweetly.

  ‘Huh?’ said the Lieutenant puzzled.

  A second later and he was out cold in the deep snow, unaware Axl had sneaked up behind him and cracked him over the head with a log he had picked up on the way back from setting the tower aflame.

  ‘Nice shot, Axl,’ Hur’al praised.

  ‘That was nothing; you should have seen what I did to the tower. It was—’

  ‘Yes, yes, we saw what you did, and you will have plenty to tell us later. First, we escape. I suggest we move fast, hide the dray and come back for it later,’ Hur’al offered.

  ‘Where will we hide it?’ Coinin asked, conscious that at any minute the guards may come running to recapture them.

  ‘There is a small copse of trees just up ahead; I saw it on the way in. That should do fine.’

  ‘Then let’s not waste any more time.’ All four fugitives hopped aboard the dray. Hur’al took the reins; he cracked them hard and yelled to the oxen who then moved quickly. The wheels took on a life of their own as they skidded through the snow, causing everyone to hold on tight.

  It wasn’t too long before they had hidden the cart in the copse of trees. Hur’al unharnessed the oxen and set them free in a nearby field. The small group exited the trees, and Coinin stopped and planted a hand on his forehead.

  ‘What is it?’ Aniol asked worriedly.

  ‘The cart tracks; they will see them and find the ice breaker.’

  ‘Oh, he’s right of course. We have to cover them up somehow,’ Hur’al agreed.

  He grabbed for a couple of leafy branches from a nearby fern and located the tracks, then began to wipe away the evidence of their detour. That in itself posed a problem. Now the tracks stopped in the middle of nowhere. A quick search nearby and the guards would locate the cart.