by J. J. Newman
“Anyway,” Raina said, after a much exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You going to the Dwarven Arms Fair?”
“What? It’s here already?” Tsaeris asked, surprised.
“No. But word says that it might be here as early as tomorrow. Figured we could all go together? Unless Elias needs you for something,” Jarod said.
“I don’t think so. I was planning on taking Cyra with me though,” Tsaeris replied.
“Bring her with us. It will be fun with the five of us,” Raina said.
“Five?”
“Yeah. Niivi is coming as well.”
“Sorry, I’ll pass,” Tsaeris said.
“What?” Raina asked, a confused look in her eyes.
“If that stupid harpy succubus is coming, I’m not,” Tsaeris said, crossing his arms.
“I thought you liked Niivi,” Jarod said.
“I did. Then I discovered how much I hated her.”
“So should we tell her not to come?” Raina asked.
“If you bring Niivi, Cyra will probably gouge out her eyes. I might even help her.” Tsaeris thought that Niivi could stand to lose an eye or two. Maybe it would build character. It did wonders for him.
“Oh. I see. The whore found out you were sleeping with somebody else, and went crazy,” Jarod said. “Whores have a strange sense of entitlement, don’t they?”
Tsaeris felt rage wash over him. Who was Jarod to call Cyra a whore? Tsaeris turned to him angrily, balled his hand into a fist, and threw it at Jarod’s face. It landed square with his jaw, but big man barely budged, and Tsaeris clutched his hand in agony, jumping and cursing. Raina just stared at Tsaeris in shock at his stupidity.
“What the hell was that?” Jarod asked calmly. He didn’t even seem mad. Tsaeris was relieved that the man wasn’t retaliating. Tsaeris had put his all into that punch, and it seemed little more than a tiny bop against the big man’s strong jaw.
“You just called Cyra a whore. She’s not a whore, she works at a book store. And I like her,” Tsaeris said, still rubbing his hand.
“Oh. You should have just said that. I’m sorry, I won’t call her that again,” Jarod said, still calm and unfazed.
“Thanks,” Tsaeris said.
“Oh, Tsaeris. Next time try talking first. Because if you ever hit me again, I’ll knock your head off. Fair enough?” Jarod said it with no change of his voice. He sounded almost cheerful about it, and might well have just been talking about the weather.
“Yeah, that’s fair. Sorry about that.”
“Alright. That was...interesting,” Raina said. “I’ll make sure to tell Niivi not to come.”
“Good. I’ll catch you guys later. I have a few things to do,” Tsaeris said. He exchanged goodbyes and headed on his way.
Suddenly Tsaeris heard a low rumble, and then found himself having trouble keeping his balance. What was wrong with him? He had to struggle to stay on his feet, and he noticed that he was not the only one. Everyone in the street were falling and stumbling. Some were crying out in fear. Tsaeris braced himself against a building. It seemed to be shaking. It lasted for a few seconds, and then everything went still.
He stood there for a few minutes, making sure that the shaking had stopped for good. Tsaeris had heard of this before. It was known as a Ground Quake. It has something to do with rock and dirt shifting suddenly deep below the earth. It was the first time he had ever felt one. Ground Quakes were rare in the city. He wondered what it must have felt like inside the safe house.
He made it to the bookstore without any further interruptions. The building looked ancient from the outside, the wood and brick faded and worn. It almost like something out of one of the books it housed. He entered through the front door, and looked around. The bookstore was a labyrinth of shelves and tables. He saw Cyra behind the purchase desk, accepting money from a customer he recognized.
“Hey, Telyn,” he greeted. “What book are you buying?”
“Hello Tsaeris,” Telyn said. “It’s a story chronicling the life of Patrick Tanner, the detective.”
“True story, or fiction?” Tsaeris asked. He knew that Patrick Tanner was a real person, of course. He was a renowned detective. But there were a lot of fictional stories featuring him as well.
“It claims to be true. We’ll have to see,” Telyn replied. “Have a good day, Tsaeris. Thank you for your help, Miss.” Telyn left the store.
“Hello, Tsaeris,” Cyra greeted.
“Hey there. Just stopping in to spend some time with you before work,” Tsaeris said.
“Hey, speaking of work. I found a book that made me think of you. Wait here,” Cyra disappeared for a moment, and then returned holding a book. She handed it to Tsaeris. The front of the book identified it as The Book of Modern Weaponry.
Tsaeris leafed through its pages. It was filled with more diagrams and schematics than text, with math equations as well. Tsaeris frowned as he looked at one diagram in particular.
“Cyra, this is a book on how to make explosives,” Tsaeris said. Cyra smiled happily at him. “Should I be concerned that this made you think of me?”
“Well, you always seem interested in how things work. This book seemed like a science book. I thought you would like it.”
“I do. I really do. Thanks, I promise not to blow you up or anything,” he said, smiling.
“Tsaeris, that book is for fun and reading. Promise me you won’t actually make any of the stuff in there,” Cyra demanded.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Tsaeris replied.
“I will take that book back, Tsaeris,” Cyra said, glaring.
“Alright, I promise. I was only joking anyway.”
Tsaeris spent a few hours with Cyra, and then headed to a tavern close by for lunch and to get a better look at the book. He liked what he found. He always had an interest in engineering and chemistry. During his training, he found science to be right up his alley. He liked knowing how things work.
Tsaeris found a diagram of a small round explosive, and read the instructions on how to build it. It seemed easy enough. He was fairly certain that he would be able to make one. He wondered how this book could even exist. It seemed full of information that would be dangerous in the wrong hands. Yet, bombings were pretty rare in the city. He had heard about them, but had never seen one, so he supposed that it hadn’t caused any major damage.
He left the tavern and headed into the market square. He went from shop to shop picking up the things he would need to construct the small bomb. He also found himself needing to purchase a pack along the way to carry it all.
When he was finished, he headed back to the tarnished tankard. When he reached his room, he locked the door and emptied the contents of his pack onto his bed. Then he opened the book.
This was going to be fun.
Chapter Twenty Six
Thunder and Drums
Trumpets and drums cut apart the silent morning air. Hundreds of boots marched in beat to the music, and the sound of wooden wagon wheels and horses were drowned out by the fanfare. The Dwarven Arms Fair had arrived.
As was custom, people lined the streets to welcome the dwarves. Everyone was in good spirits to see the dwarven folk arrive. As far as the people of The City were concerned, it wasn’t truly spring until the Dwarven Arms Fair began.
It would take the dwarves until evening to set up in Market square, and then the festivities would begin. Weapons and armor would be sold by the thousands. Drink and food would be consumed, and many games and contests would entertain the masses. The march of the dwarves meant a time of fun and excitement. A time to forget the stress and boredom of everyday life.
***
As the last of the dwarves entered the city gates, the rangers waved one last goodbye and went their separate ways. The Dwarven Arms Fair marched from their mountain home into the Great Forest. It was tradition that the Rangers would escort the fair through the forest right up to the city gate.
The dwarves didn’t need an escort, of course.
They were well-armed and talented fighters. It was more a tradition of friendship between the rangers and the dwarves. Though the Rangers were officially employed by the city, they lived in large encampments in the forest and rarely had occasion to talk to the ruling body. They were a reclusive and self-sufficient group, and as long as they keep poachers and bandits away, The City was happy to leave them alone.
Nerindar Cel'Zenn waved goodbye to his fellow rangers as they disappeared into the forest. He had never been to the Dwarven Arms Fair and had gotten permission to have a few days off to attend.
He walked through the market district, amazed at how many people there were. He had always known there were a lot of people in the city, but he had never been here during the arms fair. In fact, he hadn’t even been to The City in a few years.
Nerindar was the only Turindiel ranger that he was aware of. He had left his home long before there had been official contact between his people and the city. His people were very religious by nature, and he was the kind of person who couldn’t help but question everything. It was a dangerous habit to have among zealots. Glares at his inquisitive nature slowly turned into veiled threats. He finally decided it was time to leave, and headed north.
When Nerindar had first arrived at The City he was met with suspicion and sometimes fear. Although there had been no official contact, people were still vaguely aware of the existence of Turindiel, known as elves to them. Nerindar had felt anxious and found himself constantly on the edge of panic on seeing so many people for the first time.
He had retreated from The City into the Great Forest. His plan was to make short trips into the city every other day or so to help himself adapt. A week passed, then two. He still had not found the courage to enter.
Not long after that he had encountered the Rangers. They were fascinated by him and invited him into one of their villages. It had not been long before they began to train him as a Ranger.
Nerindar kept his hair dyed a greenish-brown color. His natural white hair stood out too much in the forest, and made concealment much more difficult. He knew that he could wear a hat to cover his hair, but he hated hats. He’d rather keep his hair free.
Nerindar wondered if he would be able to find a room at any of the inns with this many people in the city. He doubted it. He had already tried the Squire’s Rest, the inn he usually frequented on his rare visits to the city. There were no rooms available.
He tired every inn he could find, but they were all full. He was beginning to wonder if he would be sleeping in the streets. He found a patrol man and asked him if he knew of any inn where there were still rooms available.
“I don’t think so. Maybe the Tarnished Tankard. It’s a tavern with a few rooms. Nobody goes there because the food and drink is awful. Keep going down this street and you’ll find it just past the third intersection.”
Nerindar thanked the man, and headed off in the direction he had indicated. At this point he didn’t care about the food and drink. He just needed a room.
He found the Tarnished Tankard easily enough. He entered the door and was shocked to see that the common room was almost empty, save for a few tables. Every other inn had been packed with people to the point of bursting.
Nerindar began to feel uncomfortable as the few men drinking at the tables glared it him with barely contained hostility. One of them even drew a nasty looking dagger and began to clean his nails with it, never taking his eyes from Nerindar.
The Ranger turned away from the angry looking men to speak with the innkeeper. The man looked almost as angry as his patrons.
“What the hell do you want?” the man said.
“Do you have any rooms?” Nerindar asked.
“No. Now get the hell out of here.”
“Let me guess. You have a problem with elves,” Nerindar asked.
“Uh…yeah, that’s what it is. Stupid, stupid elves. We hate them here.” The innkeeper responded.
“Alright,” Nerindar said, sighing. He almost began to argue with the man, but the idea of verbally jousting with a bigot made him weary. He decided it was best just to leave.
“I’ll leave you to your unfounded and empty hatred.” Nerindar felt like spitting on the floor.
As he turned to leave, the door opened. A young Turindiel entered the tavern. Nerindar stared at him in shock for a moment, and then grinned. What were the odds of running into him again? Nerindar noticed that the boy was missing an eye now. He hoped it hadn’t been a racially motivated attack. He decided not to call attention to it.
“Tsaeris. You’ve grown,” Nerindar said, happily. “Been a long time.”
“Uh...Nerindar?” Tsaeris looked shocked and confused himself. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just looking for a room. Heard this place might have one. You should probably leave, Tsaeris. Turns out they don’t like our kind here.”
“Oh...Yeah. Um...” Tsaeris seemed at a loss for words. He glanced at the innkeeper, then back to Nerindar. “I uh...I will leave. In a minute or so.”
“Why not leave together? We can catch up,” Nerindar offered.
“Yeah. That sounds, um...great. I’ll meet you outside.”
“Tsaeris, we really should leave right away. These men look angry, and if they hate elves it could be dangerous,” Nerindar warned.
“Yeah. I guess you’re uh...you’re right. Let’s go.”
Nerindar and Tsaeris left the tavern. They walked silently for a few minutes. Tsaeris seemed agitated, and had yet to speak again. Maybe he had grown shy.
“So, how have you been, my friend?” Nerindar asked.
“Not bad,” Tsaeris replied.
“What happened to your eye?” Nerindar asked.
“My eye? Oh, I fell,” Tsaeris replied.
“You fell?” Nerindar replied skeptically.
“Yeah...”
“And your eye fell out?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I landed on a...rock,” Tsaeris answered lamely.
“Alright, alright. You don’t need to tell me how it happened. What’s wrong with you anyway?” Nerindar asked. “You seem bothered.”
“I’m fine. Just surprised to see you.”
“Yeah. It’s weird how we keep running into each other,” Nerindar observed.
“Tell me about it,” Tsaeris replied.
Tsaeris and Nerindar walked past an alley, and a man emerged from within to intercept them. Nerindar stared at the man, feeling like he recognized him. He was convinced that he knew this man, but he couldn’t place it.
“Hey, Tsaeris. Who’s your friend?” the man asked.
“This is Nerindar. Nerindar, this is Elias,” Tsaeris introduced.
Nerindar stiffened. Elias. He stared hard at the man. Elias stared back. Neither man moved. Then it hit him like a pile of bricks. He looked at Tsaeris, then back to Elias. He looked between them one last time, and then growled in rage.
“You son of a bitch!” Nerindar screamed, and then lunged at Elias.
Nerindar swung a fist at Elias, who dodged aside. Elias threw a punch of his own. Nerindar blocked hit with his right forearm, then rushed forward, pushing Elias into the alley and slammed him against the wall. Elias snapped his head forward straight into Nerindar’s face. Nerindar stumbled back, and felt Elias kick his legs out from beneath him.
“What the hell is going on?!” Tsaeris yelled.
“Tsaeris, go wait on the corner. Now!” Tsaeris looked like he was about to protest, then did as he was told.
Elias stood over Nerindar, and offered him his hand to help him up. Nerindar was dizzy, and accepted the help. When he was on his feet, he glared at Elias.
“I think we need to talk,” Elias told him.
***
Tsaeris waited patiently on the corner. He had no idea what had just happened. He liked Nerindar. Why had he just gone crazy like that? He hoped Elias didn’t kill the Ranger. After a while, Elias finally appeared.
“What was that about?” Tsaeris asked and he fell int
o step beside the man.
“None of your business,” Elias replied.
“Did you...” Tsaeris left the question unfinished.
“I didn’t kill him,” Elias replied sharply.
“Good,” Tsaeris said.
“Listen. Stay away from the ranger. You understand?” Elias snapped.
“Why?” Tsaeris asked.
“That’s an order. Don’t you dare question it. Just do it.”
Tsaeris felt the rage boil up inside him, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to challenge Elias when he was in this mood.
Tsaeris fumed. An old friend of his and Elias had just got into a spontaneous fist fight, and it wasn’t any of his business? That made no sense. Of course it was his business. He almost said so, but managed to hold his tongue.
This wasn’t the end of it. He would not just let it go. Tsaeris planned on pressing Elias for details when he had time to cool down. Tsaeris was sick and tired of being shut out of things that involved him. He wasn’t going to accept it this time.
Tsaeris also planned on ignoring the order not to see Nerindar again. Tsaeris wasn’t a kid anymore, and would choose his own friends. His temper finally reached the boiling point, and he could hold his tongue no longer.
“I’ll hang out with Nerindar if I want to, and short of killing me you can’t do a damn thing about it,” Tsaeris said boldly.
Elias stopped walking and turned to face him, the rage in his eyes matching the rage in his own. The two men stared at each other, neither man willing to back down.
Elias grabbed Tsaeris by his coat and pulled him right up to his face.
“What did you just say?” Elias said in his calm rage.
“I’m not a child. If you want me to drop a friend, you need to give me a reason,” Tsaeris said, his voice steady and strong.
“Because it was an order,” Elias said.
“Bullshit. We both know you can’t give those kinds of orders unless it affects the group. My friendship with Nerindar is a personal thing.”
“And what if I say that it does affect the group?” Elias asked.
“Does it?” Tsaeris countered.