by Neil Breault
Mikol was able to slap aside Trokan’s arm, causing the attack to miss. Mikol rolled toward the table, away from Trokan. He felt a hand on his leg but kicked it away. Mikol heard a throaty growl as he reached for the other sword. In one motion Mikol snatched the blade, turned, and stabbed the sword at Trokan. Mikol caught Trokan’s arm in his left hand before the next attack would have pierced him with the dagger. Both men stared at each other for a long moment. Mikol held the dagger at bay and only when he saw blood seep out of Trokan’s mouth did he see the sword he still held was hilt deep in Trokan’s chest. A feral look appeared in the general’s eyes. The dagger slowly inched its way towards Mikol as the general started to mouth words. Mikol could not hold it back much longer.
Mikol saw another dagger appear at the general’s throat. The general’s words were lost as the blade drew a deep cut across his neck. His hands relaxed and the dagger fell. Mikol watched as the life flowed out of the general. He pushed the body off of him with the sword still in Trokan’s chest. Bayle held his bloody dagger, looking for any sign Trokan still lived. Mikol took deep breaths waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He retrieved Raythrael and they listened for any sound from outside the tent. When they heard none, Bayle pushed the tent flap aside slowly. The night was still thick but dawn was palpable. They left the tent quickly. Mikol followed Bayle’s lead.
They passed dangerously close to many of the tents. Mikol’s hand did not leave Raythrael’s hilt until they arrived at their horses. Bayle had found Mikol’s horse among the army’s horses and had tethered his own next to it. Mikol mounted up, happy to see that Bayle had prepared their horses already. Before mounting up, Bayle untethered all of the other horses. Once they were both mounted, Bayle bellowed at the herd and slapped a few horses. Mikol and Bayle rode east and the horses followed for a time. After some time the horses dispersed. They stopped long enough for their own horses to rest and drink. When they heard horns in the distance, Mikol knew they were in for a long ride.
Chapter 11
Cobinstil
Mikol was unaware of when they had stopped for the night or even when they had started the next day. Their escape blurred in his mind and all he could think about was how he had failed Perim. He had done nothing to help. He felt stupid for continuing to train for the tournament when all his brothers were off saving the kingdom. He could not bear to look at Bayle and see someone else he cared about be disappointed.
They rode hard and fast in complete silence for three days, only resting to save the horses, before Bayle tried talking. Mikol did not respond to Bayle. Instead he pulled out the pendant to check their course again. Mikol had not had to alter their course at all since they escaped. The pendant pointed directly east towards the Dagger Peaks in the distance. While Mikol could not be certain, he felt the cache would be hidden in the mountains, but the pendant seemed to be leading them farther towards the southern base of the range.
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Bayle.
Surprised, Mikol whipped his head around to look at Bayle incredulously.
“I should have done more.”
“Like what? Perim had an army with him. How could you have done more?”
Mikol shook his head, whether as an answer or to clear his head he did not know. He urged his horse forward slowly.
“What are we doing out here?” asked Mikol.
“Well, I am following you, so if you don’t know ...”
Mikol sighed.
“No, I mean what are we doing chasing after something unknown? Without any help from Wardens or ... anyone. For all we know the weapons are as big as a trebuchet. How are we supposed to get that back to Valefort?”
“That’s why we brought so much gold. Well, about half as much now since the only thing they took from your bags was the gold. But, if it is that big we will hire some people to help us take it back. Remember, this is old runic magic. Much more powerful than current magic from what you’ve told me, so I doubt it will be huge,” said Bayle.
“Even after we find this cache, what then? Runes didn’t help Perim.”
“Hey, we don’t know what happened there. Maybe he was surprised. Maybe they came at night and took out all the guards. For all we know they had hundreds of those Death Hellion things. You told me how little the magic affected it.”
“Yeah.” Mikol sighed. “We don’t know. But that pretty much means Arceri and Turos are also dead.”
“Mikol, stop being a horse’s ass. We don’t know anything about their situations. You know Arceri is smart. I am sure he’s still alive. He’s probably battling the real Sibilovan army up north. Turos is probably dead, unless he was able to defeat the assassin with his outrageous outfits. I don’t know, maybe he brought the army to its knees with his clashing colors.”
Mikol laughed despite himself. He nodded to Bayle and even forced a thin smile on to his face. They continued to ride east in silence. The next two nights Mikol’s dour mood slowly dissipated. He was still certain this was a fool’s errand but could not think of anything else he could have done at home that would have helped.
Five days after they had escaped from the blood army they found themselves entering a large valley. The river Erova cut a path through the middle and was the official border between Ternia and Sibilova. A thousand years ago, they would have been entering Cyrotul. Cyrotul had been ruled by warlords who rose to power by conquering everything they came across until they were overthrown by another warlord. Many started to call it the Savage Kingdoms. Ternia, unable to keep track of which country owed allegiance to whom, decided to call the whole region Sibilova. Many of the warlords began to embrace the singular name and sought to unite Sibilova under one banner.
This close to the border Mikol was surprised they did not encounter any traffic on the roads. They had only seen one caravan heading west. They assumed it to be a traveling merchant. Mikol and Bayle had taken a detour off the road well away from any prying eyes until they were sure it would be safe to be on the road again. It took them a day to reach the Erova. There was a bridge that led directly across the river. Mikol had never been to Sibilova before but thought it was odd they did not see any soldiers or guards preventing travelers from crossing the bridge, either way.
The lack of guards did not sit well in Mikol’s stomach. He could see there was a town on the other side of the bridge, on the Sibilovan side. He did not want anyone to remember him crossing in to Sibilova and decided he wanted to cross upstream away from any towns. They made their way down the side of the hill to the river itself. The ground was soft but secure enough for the horses. The Erova River was supposed to be a large river but Mikol was not impressed. Mikol soon saw evidence of the drought that was affecting the river. Looking over his shoulder towards the bridge, Mikol saw how high up the bridge sat on the hill. He could see the waterline where the river usually flowed.
The river valley was flat and allowed for good visibility. Because of this, Mikol pushed them upstream for two days to avoid the town. During those two days he checked the pendant constantly. Bayle asked if he should just lead Mikol’s horse while Mikol stared at the red arrow. Mikol ignored Bayle’s mockery. He needed to make sure the arrow did not suddenly change direction. Soon enough, they came to the smallest part of the river. They slowly forded the river. It took a good portion of the day for the horses to cross. Luckily, the river only came up to the horses’ chests. When his horse stepped on the far bank of the river Mikol felt his body relax.
Mikol did not know what he expected to feel when he entered Sibilova. The more they walked into Sibilova, the more relief he felt when nothing happened. They climbed the dry bank and crested the hill as the sun was setting. Mikol looked back the way they had come. He raised the spyglass. Looking toward the town he could just make it out but could see nothing specific about it. He scanned the valley below. He almost missed a small group riding along the river. This could not be a coincidence. They were riding the same path he had taken. He could not be certain, but felt it
was the same group they had seen earlier on the road.
Bayle touched Mikol’s shoulder. Mikol turned to see Bayle was pointing to the other side of the valley, north of their location. Looking through the spyglass at where Bayle had indicated Mikol did not see anything. He was about to grumble at Bayle when light reflected off of something as a second group crested a small ridge in the valley. He watched for a moment before being certain they were headed towards them as well.
“I don’t think that first group is anyone from the Wench,” Mikol said. “I can’t imagine anyone would pursue us into Sibilova. Especially since we were only defending ourselves.”
“Depends on who it was we killed. Also depends on their point of view. Maybe it’s the fathers or brothers of those men and they think we murdered them. That might cause someone to pursue us. But I agree, going in to the Savage Kingdoms for justice seems extreme,” said Bayle. “But that second group is probably from Trokan’s group. They probably mean to cut us off, coming from the north like that. Though why they haven’t caught us by now I don’t know. We rode quickly the first few days but we slowed down.”
“Well, I don’t want to be caught by either group. Let’s continue to ride through the night. Neither group should cross the river until tomorrow and I want to be farther ahead than they think we are.”
***
The next few days they rode as fast and long as the horses could take. They slept only a few hours each night, stopping long after the sun set and breaking camp well before the sun rose. The countryside became rough and rocky and they were forced to ride on a road or chance one of the horses breaking a leg. They were tense when they passed fellow travelers on the road, ready to fight at any moment. After receiving only curious glances from passersby and nothing more, they relaxed a little. Once they were able to look at people without fear of being attacked they noticed a big difference in their clothing. Everyone they passed was wearing brightly colored clothes that reminded Mikol of many of Turos’s outfits. Their own clothing was quite brown and muted in comparison.
They passed a sign indicating a town ahead, Cobinstil. Mikol made sure the pendant indicated they should go through the town. He had been studying the pendant closely since they had crossed into Sibilova. The small arrow in the center had grown in intensity. Bayle had even commented on being able to clearly see the arrow now.
Mikol only knew about some of the larger cities in Sibilova, but when they entered Cobinstil he felt it was a town on the verge of becoming a city. The outer edge of the town comprised newly constructed buildings. When they rode in to the town proper, they found the roads were packed with people. They had to ride slowly through the street on their horses. It took them longer to get to the original city limits on horseback than it would have taken if they had walked. The buildings were no longer wooden structures but were made of stone and had a distinctly different style to them. The inner streets were no less crowded.
The central section of the town was walled off and the entrances barred. Mikol watched as the guards turned away everyone who wanted entrance. They skirted around the central section and continued to the eastern quarter. The streets started out the same as the western side of the city but quickly devolved into cross sections that made no sense to Mikol. None of the streets went in the same direction and, after attempting to continue eastward, Mikol had to give up and looked at the pendant.
There were several cries of outrage as Mikol stopped his horse in the middle of the road. Looking at the sky, Mikol could tell they were headed in east still, but the pendant was pointing northward. Bayle had been in the lead yelling at people to move out of the way and it took him a moment to notice that Mikol had stopped. He received similar outrage when he turned his horse back towards Mikol.
“Hey, what’s the hold up?”
Mikol motioned to the pendant.
“Apparently, we need to go north now.”
Bayle looked north and could see one the blades of the Dagger Peaks mountains.
“Maybe it’s in the mountain?”
“Probably, but at the base of the mountain is Silverhall,” said Mikol.
“Isn’t that the capital?”
“Last that I knew it was. But the capital usually changes whenever a new warlord conquers the Savage Kingdoms.”
The mention of the Savage Kingdoms brought looks of disgust from those who had heard Mikol speak. The hatred became evident as those that had overheard looked Mikol and Bayle over.
“Uh, first thing we need to do is get some different clothes. We stick out like a tree in the desert,” said Bayle.
There were fewer shops near the central area of town. They turned north and found the roads led them into the market district. Mikol was impressed by the varied quality of stores. They found a few clothiers but chose one of the smaller establishments that was not as busy and tied their horses outside. The inside of the shop was covered in fabrics from floor to ceiling and in every color imaginable. As they walked in a short man stepped out from behind the counter in the rear. The man’s fingers never stopped moving as he walked over to them.
“Hmm, we have something that could fit you,” said the man.
“Uh, we haven’t decided to buy anything yet,” said Mikol.
“Nonsense. Those clothes will not do. My name is Golvin. I own this shop. Fine shop it is. Best in town.” Golvin was moving quickly between Mikol and Bayle, using a piece of string to measure them and marking things down in a notebook. “Yes, yes, yes. Fine length. Won’t take long.”
“We never said we wanted clothing,” said Bayle.
Golvin stopped and look at Bayle pointedly.
“Why would you come in to my shop then? No one comes to talk. Only to buy.”
Golvin finished measuring them and made quick marks in his book, humming to himself. Seemingly satisfied, Golvin set the notebook down and picked up several pieces of fabric. He compared each one to Mikol and Bayle and tossed away those he did not like. Only a few ended up in a pile close to him. Mikol looked at Bayle and they both shrugged. They had come for clothing but Mikol had not expected this kind of service. Golvin cleared his throat and indicated the fabric he had arranged on his table. The colors were bright and flashy. Mikol looked over the colors and then at himself. Golvin stood smiling. He was similarly attired to everyone they had seen outside.
“You like? These look best for you. Can make you many, many clothes.”
“We don’t need many. Two each should do.”
Golvin frowned, shook his head, and muttered under his breath.
“Fine, fine.” Golvin waved his hands in the air as if surrendering. “I make clothing for you. You have money?”
Mikol took out a couple of gold pieces and held them out. Golvin shook his head.
“No, no, no. Don’t take Ternian gold. Illegal gold. Put away, put away.”
“Gold is gold,” said Bayle.
“Hmm, yes, yes. No, no. Only take Siban gold.”
“Where can we get Siban gold?”
“Don’t know. Out there.” Golvin flung his hand out to indicate anywhere but inside his shop and started to put away the cloth.
“There must be something we can do. We need it fast,” said Mikol.
Golvin started wringing his hands and licking his lips. He looked around quickly. He went to his front door and looked outside. Then he darted to his back room and came back. He motioned for them to come close. They walked up to Golvin and he motioned them to bend down and get very close. Golvin started whispering to them.
“There is man. He takes things. He gives things.” Golvin nodded to Mikol and Bayle as if they understood. “He takes gold. He gives gold. Very secret. He outside town. Come back with good gold. I make you clothes.”
“How do we find him?”
“South of town. Look for giant man. He take you to man.”
With that Golvin pushed them out of his shop and closed the door on them.
“That was odd,” said Mikol.
“H
ave you ever heard of these savages never taking our gold?” Bayle lowered his voice as he said savages and looked around quickly. No one seemed to have heard him.
“Never, this is new. I assume it was enacted recently with this new warlord. Do you think we really need new clothes?”
“We do still stick out like a dog at a brothel.” Bayle waved his hands at several passersby, all dressed in very ornate dress. Most of them were dressed more outlandishly than Golvin’s choices.
“Ok, I get your point. Let’s go find this giant.”
***
They rode outside of town just as the sun had begun to set. They asked a few of the townsfolk returning if they knew where they could find a giant man that would change their gold. They only received quizzical looks and rode away. They did not know how far south of town they would have to ride, so they criss-crossed the immediate area around the southern entrance.
“Should we go back and get a room for the night?” said Mikol.
“I don’t think they’ll take our gold either. We’ll have to set up camp again.”
“Do we even need new clothes?”
“Maybe not, but if we don’t want to be found easily by whoever is following us, it would help if we weren’t so obviously foreign.”
They found a site off the road, secluded enough they would not be seen by anyone passing by. Mikol removed his bedroll from his horse and laid it on the ground. He had a feeling that something was not right. He looked at Bayle but saw he was busy with his own bedroll. He looked around and suddenly noticed a giant man standing at the edge of their lamp light. Mikol took a step backward into a defensive stance and drew his sword. Bayle turned to see what Mikol was doing and jumped when he noticed the man. Bayle reached for his own sword when the man held up his hands, open toward them in a peaceful gesture.