by Sigrid Kraft
The soldier saluted and departed. Presently the door opened, and a short, corpulent man dressed in exquisite garments came in.
Ulf Merett, one of the most influential guild masters of them all.
“Greetings, my Prince.” The merchant bowed and took off his hat to uncover a completely bald head.
“Welcome, Master Merett. What matter has brought you so far from the capital?”
Prince Raiden tried to read the thoughts of the merchant, but a safety charm blocked his attempt.
No trust in this world anymore. That heavy golden chain is dripping so heavily with magic that it must be priceless. If the toad had invested only half the money in magic to improve his appearance, he would be a handsome man.
With a theatrical wave of his hand the Black Prince closed all the open books on the table and sent them to the bookshelf. All the loose papers laid themselves nicely one upon another. Then, he magically moved a chair to the opposite side of the table.
Such trifling sorcery always impresses the unmagicals.
“Take a seat.”
“Thank you, my Prince. The journey was long and exhausting.”
Enough small talk for now. Come to the point.
“And what urgent purpose brings you to Naganor?”
The chair almost vanished beneath the mass of the merchant as he sat down. “Your Highness, you will hardly believe it, but we found another gate.”
As a matter of fact, the Prince of Ardeen didn´t believe this news at first. So many times before, rumors had spread of a new gate through the Nimrod, and all these stories had turned out to be false. Since the Nimrod spell had been cast, there had been only two gates connecting the southern lands to the far north. One gate was located on the west coast in Goren and led to the island of Jarl, and the other was near the east coast in Gelderon. It opened to the mountains of Ferhennen in the land of Ysryn. To reach the northern land by sea was a much longer journey and extremely dangerous, which meant that the gates were the only realistic possibility of trading with the countries of Ysryn and Jarl.
No wonder every merchant dreams of a new gate. “Master Merett, up to now I have always considered you a very realistic man. There have been so many expeditions in search of new gates, and I can’t remember a single one ever being successful. For the last fifty years... I would say. That should have convinced even the greatest optimist.”
Master Merett remained straight-faced. “But this one proved to be true – I had it checked myself. At first I felt like you, my Prince. A trapper came from the mountains and reported a landslide had uncovered a cave. And it was inside the cave that the new gate was discovered. I too had heard many tales like this before, and so I sent someone I trust to verify it. I thought, even if there is only the smallest chance, let´s go and see nonetheless. And my sense for lucrative possibilities did not fail me. It has been confirmed. The gate leads straight to Ysryn. It would shorten the trade routes enormously.”
“This is indeed of interest. And where exactly is this new gate located?”
The merchant dug into his coat pocket and drew out a piece of parchment.
With his bulky fingers he unrolled a map of Ardeen. Some new marks had been added in red ink. Prince Raiden pulled the map towards him and glanced at it. The gate was located at the border of the Nimrod and the nearest town to the south was Falgars Vale. It was a small settlement of no importance. Possible routes for a new road were plotted on the map. They led through the valleys. To find a straight road for big wagons over the mountain crests was absolutely out of the question.
“Who else knows of this?” asked the Prince.
“Only members of the guild and the trapper. At the moment we have him... ah, let’s say... he is our guest. By chance, when he arrived in Falgars Vale, the man came directly to one of my hands to spread the news. Since then not a single word has leaked out. Fortunately, I was close by in Torwall on business and was able to take care of the problem at once. When I was sure of the truth, I set out on this arduous journey to bring you the message without delay. As a free citizen of Ardeen, I consider it my duty to inform my Prince immediately about such extraordinary news.”
Sure... a duty to Ardeen... or more likely this springs from your desire for gold and power. Too bad you need the help of an official representative of Ardeen for your purpose. You cannot ignore the Crown in this delicate case. Otherwise you surely would have spared yourself this arduous journey. All right then, let´s see what you want of me. “And now, what does the guild plan to do in this matter?”
Ulf Merett´s face gave nothing away as he now began to present his requirements – which had clearly been well thought out. “Roads must be established. A fortress should be built near the gate and heavily manned. Storerooms, servants’ accommodation and other buildings for trade should also be added. The closest town to the gate is Falgars Vale, but a road to Wyvernwall would also be possible.” The leader of the guild now pointed out various locations on the map. “There are some wild tribes in this area that trade in fur. They think themselves independent and do not acknowledge the sovereignty of His Majesty, King Tarn of Ardeen.
Perhaps we can buy them? In any case we should increase the number of soldiers in this area. And in this undertaking I hope for the generous support of the Crown, and also of yourself, my Prince. I came here first, because Naganor is so much closer than the capital.”
And you also hope to manipulate me so much more easily than my brother. This new gate is of the utmost importance. But I should consider well what I promise to the merchants of the guild. Otherwise they will be the only ones to benefit from this. “Of course it gratifies me that you have come to me first in this affair. But my brother Danian, the Crown Prince of Ardeen, is the rightful representative of my father. He will decide what must be undertaken in the matter. First, however, I will convince myself that the gate really exists. One of my most trusted knights will set out immediately with a few men. Please be so kind as to send them a scout for the mountains. I will also talk to Crown Prince Danian and announce your arrival. To do more now is beyond my modest powers.”
Master Merett rose: “Thank you for your support, my Prince. Certainly it is better to discuss the matter with the Crown Prince.”
Once again the Dark Prince glanced at the small map and Master Merett remarked: “The map is for you, my Prince, and there is no need to offer me your hospitality. I will leave as soon as possible.”
Hospitality... I didn’t consider it for a moment. “Contact Lord Boron for everything else. He is the commander of the guards. The men of the watch will show you the way.”
Prince Raiden summoned the watch and gave them their orders. When Master Merett had left, Prince Raiden called his brother by magical means. Crown Prince Danian was lacking in magical skills and therefore had to rely on a bewitched artifact. Normally, this was a mirror on his desk. Luckily, Prince Raiden was connected at once.
To be exact, it was not only luck, because Danian sat behind his desk most of the time, attending to the Crown’s business: work that Prince Raiden had very successfully avoided. The Dark Prince truly had no ambition to become King. He enjoyed his freedom in many ways. Ways that would not be appropriate for a ruler of Ardeen.
The Crown Prince is perfectly suited to the demands of being a king. Certainly much more so than I would ever be. He should deal with the merchants’ guild, while I devote myself to my studies in peace.
Prince Raiden’s strongest desire was to break the curse lying upon him. The spell of the soulban, uttered by Master Elderon of Aleroth, first mage of the Brotherhood. Until he broke the spell, he would never be free.
In Bron’s house, four clanchiefs were holding council. The chiefs of all the most important tribes were there: Belemen Icelance from Gapway in the west, Jack Gateway from Longvalley in the east, Lorne Stonefist from Grom Mountain in the southwest and Bron Bearslayer himself from Mount Thorn. They all had serious faces, because something unusual was happening in the land of the Fe
nn. Foreigners had been coming and going through the woods. Not hunters, but bigger groups of soldiers as well as civilians.
Jack Gateway spoke: “Someone has discovered a gate through the Nimrod on Mount Aspen and now the Lowlanders are being attracted like a bear to honey.”
Belemen interrupted: “Is it really true? Is there a gate?”
Jack nodded: “Yes, I was there. A rock slide uncovered it. That´s why no one had found it before. The gates are darkest sorcery. How else could you travel through the Nimrod instantly? I have heard about two other gates, one in the west and one in the east. But after discovering this gate, the Lowlanders will throng to our country in great numbers.
This will radically shorten the trade route to the north, and the other gates will be of less significance.”
The other clanchiefs nodded in agreement. Then Bron said: “But this is our land. The Lowlanders can´t just turn up and settle here.”
Lorne Stonefist frowned: “Once I traveled to the south – to the big towns. There are countless Lowlanders. They will arrive and outnumber us a hundred to one. And when they settle here and set up a trading route through the mountains, they will kill our game, cut down our wood and drink from our streams. This will upset the young warriors. We have to talk to the Lowlanders and we need to charge a toll as reparation. If the Lowlanders do not agree, we have to fight for our land – to the end.”
Again the others nodded and they all agreed to ask for a meeting with the Lowlanders in a month´s time to discuss the problem.
All the clans went to Falgars Vale and set up camp in front of the town. Then the day of negotiations took place. On one side were the clanchiefs Bron, Jack, Belemen, Lorne and Savas. On the other, Sir Joren, commander of the soldiers, Klaas Berden, the town steward, and one of Ulf Merett’s sons to represent the guild. They talked at length and everybody had their say. The Lowlanders’ plans were more than alarming. They intended to build roads, bridges and an outpost in the mountains, right at the newly discovered gate. The town officials spoke of all the wealth this would bring to everyone. But they also spoke about changes, and that the Fenn might have to reconsider their way of life. Nevertheless, the Lowlanders assured them that they all wanted peace. After long discussions back and forth, they finally came to an agreement. The Lowlanders would pay a certain sum at once for the use of the land, and a smaller sum every year thereafter. To make up for the animals hunted by the Lowlanders, they would also contribute food supplies to the Fenn. The Fenn considered the sum extremely generous, while the town officials were glad to get off so cheaply.
Scarcely had the Fenn left town when the work began. Craftsmen and soldiers built a road through the valleys and constructed bridges over streams and ravines. Two small settlements also sprang up: Threevalley and Aspengate. The craftsmen and soldiers worked hard and were decent and friendly to the Fenn. Then the first caravans passed through the gate, to be followed by many others. The more people poured in, the more scoundrels there were amongst them. Adventurers, hired laborers and bored soldiers loafed around in the settlements, always pursuing pleasure rather than honest work.
As soon as the first road was finished, the Lowlanders immediately started to establish a second route from the southeast. It branched off the Westway and passed by Wyvernwall, a rather insignificant stronghold up to that point.
They widened the road beyond Wyverwall and extended it through the woods towards the mountains. In the foothills, they founded the new settlement of Aspenway. From Aspenway, the road continued through Long Valley until it reached Aspengate. This brought the road close to the settlement of Jack’s Clan.
Some of the travelers bothered the women of the Fenn and blood ran hot. Many young warriors demanded revenge and insisted that all Lowlanders be expelled from the land. Even worse, other Fenn adopted the contemptible habits of the Lowlanders. They copied their style of dress and their drinking habits. A warrior named Vrat the Raven spoke ferociously of war and found a large audience among the young people. But the clanchiefs urged calm and held fast to peace. Years had made them wise and they knew that every war also brought great sorrow. Over and over, they complained about the violations and each time, the Lowlanders gave them satisfaction, expressing their regret and promising to maintain law and order in the future. Their words were nothing more than empty promises, however, and the assaults continued.
Willen Onetooth was now called Willen Gatefinder, but apart from his new nickname, discovering the gate did not benefit him much. Although the merchants had given him a lot of money, it ran through his fingers like water. Gambling, women, a few luxuries and it was almost gone. To make a living now, Willen acted as a mountain guide, leading groups through the land he knew so well. Mostly they were hunting parties, or people looking for a more direct way to the gate. The paths were not suitable for big wagons, leading as they did through the woods and over the mountain crests.
At this time, Willen was leading a troop of mercenary soldiers. They had been thrown together from all nations and some of them seemed to be truly grim fellows. Their leader was Tarn, and they called him ‘King Tarn’ because he had the same name as the King of Ardeen. Tarn had only one eye left. His favorite weapon was a mighty ax. Oswen, a wiry fellow with a hounded look, was his right-hand man. Most of the men bore ugly scars across their faces, and it was hard to tell whether they were mercenary soldiers or plain robbers. Willen did not ask. They had paid him good gold to act as their guide, and this was exactly what he was doing now.
In fact, they had planned to reach Aspengate in the evening, but a storm forced them to seek shelter. They spent several hours under the cover of a ledge before they were able to continue the journey, and it soon became clear that they would not reach their destination before nightfall. Willen suggested they stay the night in the village of the Fenn, which started a discussion among the men. Oswen argued: “I’m for pushing on to Aspengate. It’s easy to follow the road even in the dark.”
Tarn, however, was not happy about that. They were all soaking wet and he liked the idea of a warm fire and a roof over his head. “A few hours won’t make any difference,” he said. Oswen lost his temper. Tarn responded by raising his thundering voice and laying a threatening hand on the handle of his ax. So, the decision was made and Oswen gave in grudgingly. They climbed up the path to the village and Willen led them to Bron’s house. He knocked and Lyesell opened the door and welcomed him.
“I’m sure Bron will be back soon. To be honest, he should have been here already, but the bad weather has probably delayed him.” Lyesell was still a beauty, in spite of her mature years. Slender, her hair long and blond, she stood in the doorway.
Willen explained: “I am bound for Aspengate with Tarn and his men. We were also surprised by the weather and now we would be glad to shelter here for the night.”
Lyesell invited them in: “The house is too small for everyone, but some of you can sleep in the stable. I’m sure that will be all right. Bron will settle it when he gets back. In the meantime you can wait in the living room. It wasn’t until the men had entered the room that Lyesell realized what shady characters she had asked into her home. Devious, carnal, stupid and dastardly were the attributes that came to her mind as she watched them.
Bron will be here soon, she hoped, trying not to seem nervous. “I will make you some porridge. After such a long day I am sure you need something warm in your stomach.”
“And in my bed.” One of the men said boldly. The others howled with laughter at the dirty remark.
“Silence!” shouted Tarn. “We are guests in this house and of course we will pay for the meal.” He fumbled in his pocket for some gold coins and threw them on the table in front of Lyesell. But the gesture was more of an insult than an act of generosity.
The man called Oswen piped up: “Tarn, you don’t pay us so well, but we’re not as easy on the eyes as this beauty.” Then he turned to Lyesell: “For this much gold we should get more than thin porridge.”
Th
e men’s talk disgusted Lyesell, but she didn’t let it show. “Perhaps I can find a few carrots to boil up. But don´t hope for more.”
The men laughed: “She has a sharp tongue, this one.”
Willen remained silent and observed the scene from the corner. By now, Lyesell was fervently hoping that Bron would return soon. This vulgar rabble will not dare to insult me when he is here. And I hope he throws them all out. Then she considered: I could also run to the next farm and ask for help. If I scream here, no one will hear me. We live too far away.
Lyesell went to the door, but Oswen blocked her path.
“Where are you going, my beauty?”
“I need more logs for the fire,” she lied. Whether Oswen read her face or not, Lyesell couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, he thwarted her plans.
“The idle rascals here can attend to that. Hyman and Egril, you heard the lady. Now go! Make yourselves useful.” Grumbling, both men got up and left.
Lyesell stepped back to the stove and saw to the kettle. She felt the lusty glances resting on her back. She tried to ignore the shifty ruffians as well as she could while she stirred herbs into the water.
The men started to talk about their journey, and Lyesell was glad to escape their attentions. She pretended to be busy and cut the carrots as slowly as possible. But then she had to fetch the oats and left the room. She thought the men had not noticed, when she was assailed by a voice from behind: “Will the meal be ready soon, my beauty?”
Caught out, Lyesell turned around: “I need the oats from the pantry. And thanks, I can fetch them myself.”
They let her go. A wooden stairway led from the living room down to the pantry. The house had been built along a hillside, and there was a small natural cave in the stone. Bron had incorporated this cave while building the house and made it into a pantry. Now they stored their supplies there. A narrow vent for fresh air provided the only way out and it was too small for larger animals to get in through, consequently making it far too small for a person to get out of. Lyesell placed the torch in an iron holder on the wall and sat down in relief on a sack of seeds. She was glad to be away from those filthy men. Especially Oswen, with his disgusting lecherous stare. She just sat there and took a deep breath. When Bron comes home, he will throw this rabble out. It was a mistake to invite them in. I saw only Willen at first and had no idea he was keeping such low company. As Lyesell was brooding over her situation, she suddenly heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Terrified, she leaped to her feet. It was Oswen.