Fire And Ice (Book 1)

by Wayne Krabbenhoft III

  An oil fed lantern provided light for the man who glanced up from the leather bound ledger he had been studying. The man had the slightly darker skin that marked most Karands, as well as the dark hair. At least what was left of it on his mostly bald head. He wore a thin mustache on his round, pudgy face which described the rest of him as well.

  “Ah. You would be Coran?” the man asked in accented Midian. Actually, the speech was considered Western. It came about in the time of Mon Vusaar, a mixture of Midian and Ithanian, and was first adopted by Arryvestra and then by the Ithanians and even the North. It was the major language in the West. “I have been staying late each night in case you came. I expected you sooner though.”

  “I am sorry. I was delayed in Ostia,” Coran explained. “You would be Miko?”

  The man smiled. “Yes. I am Miko.” Miko grabbed the lantern and closed the ledger. He ushered Coran towards the door. Outside he stopped and locked the door behind him with a large iron key. “This way.”

  He led the way through the city until they came to a large, wooden building on the edge of the city just as it started to rain. Apparently, Arencia did not have any walls. Miko opened the large double doors revealing the interior of a stable. The stalls were all empty of horses. Bales of hay were stacked against the back wall and a wagon with a broken wheel was nearby.

  “Bigger than I need at most times,” Miko commented. “In the winter though, all my wagons need to be somewhere. I contract ships as well, but trade by wagon is much cheaper. Easier too. I just have family to worry about. They make the runs and all I have to do is provide a few guards. Much better than dealing with a whole crew.” The man talked quickly as if he was nervous.

  “Is there a problem?” Coran questioned. “It is just that you seem to be in a hurry.”

  “What? Oh yes. A ship is leaving tonight and we can be on it.” He looked at Coran, “unless you wish to remain until morning? I would not recommend that.” When Coran shook his head the man ducked into one of the stalls and came out with a large Karandi robe. “Put this on. I have some other clothes you can change into later. You are dressed fine for Arencia, normally, but where the ship is landing you do not want to be recognized for a Midian. Not if you wish to go as far as you do and come back again.”

  Coran took the offered robe. “Why did you say normally?”

  Miko went back into the stall and this time came out carrying a cloth sack tied closed at the top. “Because your presence will have been reported by now.” Miko stopped moving about to stare at him. “Did your father not tell you about Shevren?”

  “No,” he said confused, and started to put on the thin robe when he noticed several men appear at the stable doors. The robe fell from his hands to the dirt floor. Coran made a quick count of thirteen. Most were dressed in the loose fitting robes favored by Karands, but a few wore Western shirts and pants. Some wielded Midian long swords and others the wider, curved, Karandi forged blades. One stood out from the rest. Instead of the other’s rumpled browns and tans, he wore clean and neat robes in purple and red. Rings decorated one hand and the other was hidden in its sleeve. The men arranged themselves in a circle around the richly dressed one. The formation also cut off any chance at escape.

  There was a tension in the air that he could clearly feel. It was a tension that announced approaching violence. Apparently, Miko’s concern was justified. He prepared himself to not go down without a fight. He started to reach for his sword.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” the richly dressed one told him. His accent was even harder to understand than Miko’s. One of the Karands produced a bow. An arrow was leveled at the sweating Miko. “Drop your sword belt.”

  Coran saw no alternative at the moment. He watched Miko, but the man was clearly surprised at the new development. Hopefully that meant he had not betrayed his father by setting up his son. Coran unbuckled the black leather belt and let his sword fall to the ground. One of the Karands closed in and grabbed the belt. The man unsheathed the blade for about a foot of its length and looked at it with a pleased smile. “When someone came to me and told me that a tall Midian had disembarked a ship from Ostis I was naturally curious. When I was told he was heading for your shop, Miko, I had to come see who it was,” the rich man said. “He is not Oran, but there is something of him in the face. A son, perhaps, or a nephew? A close relation in any case.” Coran did not answer and neither did Miko. “Too bad he did not come himself, but this is probably better. He took my hand and now I will take something from him.” Coran saw a hook protruding from the sleeve of the robe.

  “Shevren,” Miko spoke up finally, “you do not want to do this.”

  “I don’t? Just stay out of it Miko. I have forgotten your part in it. Leave it that way,” Shevren told him. He fingered the iron hook with his other hand. The pounding of the rain on the roof intensified into a dull roar. Lightning flashed from the sky outside and peals of thunder followed. Shevren spoke directly to Coran. “Now what should I do with you?”

  “Leave him to me!” a voice boomed from the doorway. Everyone turned and Coran felt a shock of recognition that quickly faded. The figure was cloaked and hooded, but the voice was not as deep or as strong. It did not fill him with the same sense of foreboding as the one from his dream.

  “Leave while you still can, whoever you are,” Shevren dismissed the intruder.

  The man was not so easily dismissed. He pulled back his hood to reveal a pale, shaved head. The man was taller than the Karands, and a malicious smile appeared on his face. “I think you should be the one to leave. While you still can.”

  “Get that fool out of here,” Shevren ordered, and two of his men moved to obey.

  The newcomer did not appear concerned by the two Karands approaching with drawn weapons. He raised his fingers to his mouth and blew a high pitched whistle. Everyone waited to see what would happen next. No one could have imagined what did. Through the open doors stomped a monstrosity, half again as tall as the cloaked man before it. Bony ridges protruded from the thing’s forehead and along each side of its jaw. It stood on oddly crooked legs that seemed too thin to support such a large creature. It was covered with gray and brown skin pulled tightly over bone and muscle. As it entered, two bat-like wings folded together behind the thing’s back.

  One of the Karands tried to make a run for it. The creature reached out with astonishing speed, and grabbed the fleeing man’s throat with a sickening crunch. The body was flung away and crashed in a heap against an upright beam that supported the structure. Another man, maybe thinking to save himself by killing the one who had summoned such a thing, lunged towards the cloaked figure. The pale man raised a hand, palm up. A flame danced above it, and he threw it at his attacker, who screamed as he was engulfed in fire. The figure spotted Coran and threw another ball of pure fire. Coran ducked, the flame hit the stacked bales of hay behind him which immediately burst into flame.

  It was either stay and burn, or attack and hope some of them might escape. Shevren made his decision and ordered his men to attack. They charged the beast with terror dancing in their eyes. For the most part, they tried to get around it, but the thing proved an efficient guard. Its clawed hands ripped through the offered flesh. The bowmen fired several arrows at the monster, but they did little to hinder the thing. The wizard threw another fireball and someone with a curved blade went up like a torch.

  Coran knew if he was to have a chance, he had to take advantage of the confusion. He grabbed the closest Karand, who was frozen in terror, and wrenched the long sword from his grip. Then he struck the Karand down. He saw that a knife was tucked in the man’s belt. Coran picked it up and in one smooth motion threw it at the wizard. The cloaked man never saw it coming. He stiffened as the blade hit its mark. He looked down and was surprised to find the hilt of a dagger sticking out of his chest before he collapsed.

  That left the beast to deal with. Only three of the Karands remained to face it. One struck at the long arms and half-severed a clawed hand
. The creature swung his other hand and ripped the man’s face off, sending blood and flesh flying in an arc. Shevren was the last of the Karands to fall. The creature picked him up and looked at its struggling captive; then it opened its jaws wide, revealing sharpened fangs, and bit into Shevren’s head. It chewed loudly as it threw down its victim. Its large eyes spotted Coran and it shambled towards him.

  The fire had spread up the back wall and onto the ceiling as the back of the stable creaked and groaned. Smoke was filling the barn now and Coran knew he had to get out quickly. He looked around desperately for something to use on the closing beast. There was nothing by the wagon except Miko, who was using it for cover. Then Coran saw the lantern by the man’s feet. Coran picked it up, turned towards the beast, and tossed the burning oil at the creature’s chest. The lantern exploded in flame, causing the creature to shriek in pain. Coran grabbed for Miko and together, they ran past the monster and out into the rain.

  The fire continued to consume the barn’s interior and one of the support beams cracked. The monster was turning in circles, trying to beat out the flames as the ceiling collapsed on top of it. The thing gave off a high pitched screech as it was buried under burning timbers. Coran didn’t wait to watch the thing’s demise. Despite the rain there would be people arriving soon, to see what was making all that noise if not for the fire. He didn’t want to try and answer questions for which he had few answers. It would be far better if no one knew he had been there at all.

  Now that the danger was past, Miko seemed more sure of himself and led them through the puddle-strewn streets. Away from the fire, away from the shrieking, Coran began to relax. With the rain there was no one to see them pass. Eventually, Miko stopped before a dilapidated building not far from the docks. He pushed open a loose hanging door and the two of them stumbled in out of the downpour just as the sky rumbled again. The inside of the building was smaller than the barn and completely empty.

  “This was used as a warehouse, but not anymore. The roof leaks and no trader would risk his goods in here,” Miko announced with his former composure. “I forgot the sack in the barn. I will go out when the storm stops and get you some clothing.”

  “What about a ship?” Coran asked as he sat down on the wooden floor. It was covered with dust and the planks were warped.

  “I will see to that too. We will not make the one I had planned to use in time. There should be one leaving soon after the weather changes. They would not risk sailing out of the harbor in this.”

  “Shouldn’t I come with you?” Coran asked.

  “No. You stay out of sight. I am sure someone will find out that Shevren went to see a Midian who just arrived. When they see Shevren dead, they will start looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Shevren has friends, and you are a stranger here.”

  Of course, they would want someone to blame. What Coran really wanted to know was what had happened back there. His father told him that Shevren had it in for him, but he hadn’t offered any details, and Shevren had only given him more questions. Then there was the cloaked figure. He had to have been sent by Elthzidor. And the creature? What was that thing? Had Gelarus known about it? Coran thought there was no reason he should. He had never even heard of a creature like that, not even in old tales.

  Coran also knew that there was little that Gelarus did not know, and he was usually reserved in offering information. Then again it could be some new evil brought out for a new war. He looked at Miko who sat with his back to the opposite wall.

  “I am sorry Miko, for the danger I put you in.”

  The man waved the apology away. “I considered the dangers when I agreed to help. I did not expect all of what happened, but I will do what I promised. Besides, I should be the one to apologize.” His mouth twisted into a grimace as he said it.

  “Why should you apologize?”

  “I was hiding when I should have been helping. I do not want you to think I am not capable of using force when it is required. It was that beast.” He shivered. “It will not happen again.” He said the last part defiantly.

  Coran had to smile at the man’s determination. Once he made a decision he stood by it no matter the danger. “You are a good man, Miko.”

  That compliment was waved away as well, but with a slight smile. Coran thought he was going to like his new companion.

  The rain drumming on the roof slowed and finally stopped about an hour later. Miko went out like he said and it was a long time before he returned. Coran started to worry until the short man came back. He brought with him a large bundle containing some Karandi clothing, among other things. Coran put on a pair of light tan pants that were of a thin material and baggy around the legs. There was a shirt of the same color and material, but it fit more snugly. A coat, or maybe a robe, that hung down to his knees was wrapped around him and held in place with a piece of cloth tied around the waist. Miko produced a worn, brown leather sheath for the sword he had acquired during the fight in the stable.

  “Here.” Miko handed him a length of red material that felt like silk. “Tie it around your waist.”

  “What is this for?” Coran couldn’t remember seeing any other Karands wearing a sash of any color.

  “This is worn by Anagassi warriors. They are the people who live in the desert of Ne’emen that lies to the south. They protect the Heart.”

  “The Heart?”

  “Yes. Lev, the Heart of She’al.”

  “If they live in the south what would one of them be doing here?” Coran asked as he finished tying the sash. He arranged the knot on his right hip with the extra silk running down the outside of his leg. Miko nodded in approval.

  “Sometimes a few of them will come out of the desert and hire themselves out as guards. They are the best warriors of all the Karands, and are highly sought after. One of them is considered to be worth ten other guards.”

  “So I am to be your guard?”

  “Yes. Your name is now Besdriz. You are a guard, so you will not be expected to talk. Let me handle that part of it.” Miko produced a last item. It was another length of tan cloth. “Your job is to look dangerous. Only a fool would mess with an Anagassi.” He wrapped it around Coran’s head so that only his eyes were left showing. “I hope you are very good with that sword. There are many fools in the world.”

  Coran moved around the empty warehouse to get a feel for his new attire. The clothing was comfortable and nonrestrictive. It would do. He turned back to Miko. “Now what?”

  “Now we go and find a ship,” Miko answered with a smile, watching Coran. He was apparently pleased at what he saw.

  It was still night and the storm had passed. Stars appeared in occasional breaks in the clouds. Miko kept his face hidden in the hood of his robe. They had both decided before Miko went out the first time that it would be better if no one recognized him until they were safely away. That was on the off chance that Elthzidor, or some of Shevren’s friends, had any more surprises planned.

  They reached the docks just as a ship was preparing to cast off. Miko called aboard and was answered by a dark haired man with a bushy mustache. He must have been the captain, because after a few words with Miko they were quickly allowed on board. The Karands that made up the crew made sure they stayed out of Coran’s way while giving him sidelong glances as he passed.

  They were given a small cabin with a plain table in the center which was nailed to the floor. Two hammocks hung halfway up the walls on each side of the cabin. Two chairs were set against the back wall. Only a few feet separated the swinging beds.

  “Do you want to sleep first?” Coran asked his traveling companion.

  Miko looked at him with surprise. “We can both sleep. They will not bother us if that is what you are worried about. Later will be the time for caution, but not here.” He sounded confident of their safety.

  Coran had to trust him so he swung up into the hammock after several attempts. It was not as easy as Miko made it look. His balding
companion chuckled from where he laid, as he watched Coran struggle. Coran thought about throwing his pillow at the grinning man, but he didn’t want to have to retrieve it and then deal with climbing back up again.

  The next morning Coran woke from a troubled sleep. The swaying motion had made it hard to get any rest. He had the same trouble on the journey from Ostis. He almost fell in the act of swinging down to the floor. He pulled on his leather boots and buckled his sword on as Miko came into the cabin. The Karand was carrying another gift.

  “When we dock you should where this.”

  Coran took the long brown robe and placed it on his bed. “Why?”

  “It is not uncommon for the Anagassi to wear them here in the north,” Miko started to explain. “I do not know enough about them. I do not know if wearing a long sword will be a problem. The robe will hide it. Just be sure that people can see the sash. Also, the robe might be necessary to hide your disguise, if it is needed.”

  Coran had to give Miko some credit. The man was anticipating potential problems and found one simple way to handle it.

  “We have a week until we reach Crecy, so we will start working on your speech,” Miko said in a business-like fashion.

  “My speech?”

  “I have heard your Karandi, and you have an accent that is easily noticeable. At some point you will have to speak for yourself.”

  Coran shrugged. It made sense and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend a week trapped on board a Karandi vessel, headed further and further away from home. He wondered how long he was really going to be gone. Well, I wanted to travel, he thought wryly.

  The woman was still considered beautiful, even after bearing five children and her nearly forty years. Her dark hair was touched with a little gray. She watched from nearby as her eldest son picked his way through the burnt wreckage of their stable. Some people helped, including a few friends of Miko’s and hers. Guardsmen stood by as well to find out what had happened. The rain had extinguished any traces of fire after the building had collapsed. Now that it was light enough to see they could survey the damage. Once in a while someone stopped and stooped down; then they would call her son to come over and look. She knew they were burnt corpses they stooped over, and held her breath every time. Her son would stand, look over at her and shake his head. It was not Miko.