Chasing Down Glory: The Outrider Legion: Book Two

by Christopher Pepper

  By signing on, Ryker meant that Aleksander wasn't a real member of the Outrider Legion, or any Legion for that manner. They had met him one night half a year prior, and the man's easygoing attitude, strength and all around formidable abilities had saved them all from a group of assassins wrongly trying to kill them all. While Johan couldn't make Alek a true Legionary he had done the next best thing and made him their cook, allowing the big man to officially join them when they finally got their assignment to Coula. What had helped the transition was that he had turned out to be an excellent cook, and also something of a minor brewer. His contributions to unit morale could not be understated.

  Alek was a good man, Johan knew. One of the best he had met in a long time. But his strength was unnatural, and at times it worried him. He was grateful for it, of course, had been grateful for it on many occasions since they met, but whenever he thought about it, he got an uneasy feeling in his gut. Alek was always cagey when pressed about it. Johan’s curiosity grew each time the man did something spectacular, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he forced the issue. But for now, he could let it be. They had all survived another day. Sometimes that was enough. He wouldn’t ruin the moment with questions.

  Toma shook his head more hurriedly than before. “No of course not. I'm not complaining, I just...well sometimes what he can do catches me off guard is all. And yeah, I may be a little jealous,” he added with a grin. “I'd probably get a little more attention from girls if I could balance two full kegs on my shoulders too.”

  That brought some chuckles from the rest, even Johan. He gestured back towards the prisoners. “Go help our two warriors load up the prisoners in the wagons and on horseback. We’ll bring them all to Coula then head back home. Treat Roy’s group to a night of food and drink, then send them off tomorrow.” The Outriders saluted their Commander, right fist over left breast, and moved to carry out his orders.

  “You know, sometimes you almost act the part of Commander,” Ryker grinned. “Fools me about half the time.”

  Johan rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “What can I say? I learned all about pretending to know what I’m doing from you.”

  Ryker snorted and went to join his comrades. Johan watched them, working side by side with Roy’s unit, and he felt a smile growing on his face. Chasing down bad guys, keeping the country safe. It was as close as being an official knight errant as he’d ever thought possible. He was basically getting paid to emulate his boyhood hero. And the unexpected bonus was he was really damn good at it.

  Johan loved his job.

  Chapter 3

  Bellkeep was a small city that didn't seem to realize it was past the flower of its beauty, both figuratively and literally. Its whitewashed stone walls were faded, splotchy with moss and grime. The population contained within was beginning to burst through those walls, and small clusters of buildings stuck to the outer wall like barnacles on a galleon. Inside the walls were narrow roads, rutted deep in the hard earth. Overpopulation caused no end of jostling people and carts traveling through the outer city. There the huddled together houses were a mishmash of brick, stone, and honest-to-the gods grass huts. The city wasn't near the size of Tethis, nor had it any of its uniformity, or its charm. There were no true city blocks or organization, just a random assortment of buildings, with the roads hard pressed to thread their ways through into the inner city.

  While the city of Bellkeep may have been smaller than the city of Tethis, as a city-state it controlled far more land than the Dominion. Bellkeep controlled a large swath of land southwest of the Dominion trading much of its foodstuffs and luxury goods for Dominion timber and metals. With such a beneficial trade pact in place, the two nations maintained semi-cordial relations. And by that, Bellkeep only stationed a few formations of soldiers on the shared border, and hardly ever tested the Dominion's resolve there. Though larger than the Dominion as a whole, and much more numerous as a people, Bellkeep's city-state seemed to lag behind somewhat in almost every respect. It had its own Mecher's Guild of sorts, called the Craftsmen Union, and their small group of mages were organized in some fashion, but they somehow they couldn't match the sophistication or advancement of their peers in the Dominion. Something which had irked them to no end.

  With the soft grinding sounds of old, weathered wood, three horse drawn wagons made their slow way through one of Bellkeep's main gates. Each wagon had a driver and a guard, with the rest covered with bright blue cloth. The insignia of the Mecher's Consortium adorned both the sides of the wagons and the blue coverings. The Consortium was a neutral organization that had branches in almost every major city on the continent. They were brokers of skilled labor, architectural expertise, and cutting-edge technologies. Bellkeep's own craftsmen, engineers, and mages would look covetously upon that small caravan and any who rode within.

  The driver of the lead wagon smiled to herself. She hoped to stoke the fires of that jealousy to her advantage.

  The woman wore thick brown leather breeches and tall riding boots, as well as a fashionable leather traveling cloak over a plain gray blouse. Her arms were covered almost to the elbow with long thin gloves. The sigil of the Consortium was embroidered onto the cloak, which she wore with its hood down, revealing her light auburn hair hanging free over her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were hard and calculating as she looked about her surroundings. She had high cheekbones that gave her an attractive but strong face. Her companion was dressed similarly, but her blouse was dark green, and her hair was a shade lighter than black. She looked a few years older than her companion, but was still striking in appearance. Her nose was wrinkled slightly as if the odor disagreed with her.

  “Gods, this place smells worse than Tethis,” the dark haired woman said through a grimace. “Nerth-er, Cecilia, please tell me we have accommodations lined up far from here.”

  The auburn haired woman, Nerthus or “Cecilia”, shot a quick glare at her partner, another Umbra named Edda, before answering.

  “Yes, Carthinia, the Consortium has reserved us rooms a mile down the road. Far from the gates, outer city, stables, and most of this muck. Besides, we want to be seen. By the quality people of this fair city, and hopefully by any friendly eyes that are out there.”

  “Carthinia's” cheeks colored slightly at Nerthus's tone of voice, but that passed quickly. Edda so far had been a quick study when it came to being an Umbra, a spy for the Praetorian Umbra himself back in Tethis. Nerthus had been pleased with her progress. And while the new agent still slipped up on occasion, she never made the same mistake twice. Nerthus had every confidence in “Carthinia's” abilities. Not the least of which due to the fact that the dark haired woman had, not six months prior, been a highly skilled assassin in the employ of the Order of the Crimson Fang. That she had been brainwashed, and later freed of said brainwashing, had done nothing to diminish her reflexes or her physical abilities. Yet she still had quite a bit to learn in the art of subtlety.

  Edda shot a glance behind them at the two other wagons following them. On one sat a rather plump man wearing spectacles. He was engrossed in a leather bound book and paid no mind to the man sitting next to him holding the reigns. On the third wagon sat a grim-faced man and woman, both in their late forties. Anyone could see the look of two seasoned caravan guards in their eyes. And to a pair of trained or perceptive eyes, one could see that the man and woman were looking at everything but each other.

  “Uh oh,” Edda said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Looks like Carpey and Sailey got into it again last night. The two of them need to either sleep together soon or go their separate ways. The tension between them is tighter than a crossbow string.”

  Nerthus rolled her eyes. “Really? That's what you are focusing on right now?”

  Edda shrugged. “What? Believe me, those two were just the kind of pleasant diversion this incredibly dull trip needed. And yes, I am aware of how sad and pathetic that sounds. But don't worry, now that we are here I know what to focus on, the same as
you. We find our missing people, or whatever we can about them.”

  Nodding, Nerthus had to agree. It had been a dull trip. Bellkeep was almost two weeks away from Tethis, about a three day trip from Coula, the last real town in the Dominion before the border. What few entertainments there were to be had were precious, so she couldn't really begrudge Edda for finding some diversion where she could. There was only so much planning they could do as a team en-route until they finally arrived at the city. The Praetorian Umbra had two agents in Bellkeep at any one time. Usually they weren't actively attempting anything sinister, merely reporting on the pulse of the people, political news, relatively minor things. However, lately the Umbra’s agents had been active within Bellkeep’s Craftsmen Union, assisting with some rather advanced, delicate work. It wasn’t a noble enterprise of course. As soon as Bellkeep’s guilds completed whatever secret project they were working on, the Umbra’s agents would copy or steal it and return home to Tethis. At least, that was the plan. But they had been reporting on some big breakthrough on the horizon, something they couldn’t do back in the Dominion. And that had made the Praetorians nervous.

  Then one week prior to Nerthus and Edda being dispatched with the convoy, both agents went dark. Their regular messages ceased, and no other attempt to make contact had been successful. One agent going dark, while tragic, was a common danger. Two highly trained, experienced operatives disappearing at the same time? That warranted action. The Praetorian Umbra felt that this could mean any number of things, none of them good for the agents or for Tethis. So Nerthus and Edda had been given three wagons, the seal of the Consortium as a cover story, and the backup of a few trusted, reliable Consortium guards, and one Evgeny Bok, the plump man in the second wagon. He was a Weaver on loan from the Praetorian Magus. Apparently missing agents were something all of the Praetorians took very seriously.

  Evgeny had insisted on bringing some special cargo with them, “just in case”. Apparently he had little respect for the mages in Bellkeep. Professional rivalry he had called it, but there was frost in the otherwise good-natured Weaver's voice. Each wagon had one giant crate of the special cargo, but Evgeny was tight-lipped about what was in them, saying only that they were perfectly safe.

  As if reading her thoughts, Edda spoke up.

  “I hope that Cecil back there turns out not to be really needed on this business trip. He doesn't look all that impressive, honestly. To be fair though, I don't have too much experience with...you know.” She made an awkward gesture with her hands, as if she didn't know how to continue. Nerthus smiled at that. Edda frequently made those gestures when she was at a loss.

  “Cecil” was Evgeny's name for the trip. Nerthus assured Edda that he would come in extremely handy if needed. She had worked with a few Weavers in the past, from minor mages of no great importance to even the mighty Leonid, the most devastatingly powerful Weaver Tethis had to offer. And while they all had different abilities and talents, almost all of them had been pleasant to work with. Nothing like the old stories she had heard as a child of prickly wizards and grumpy magicians.

  It was strange, she thought. In her experience, the more power someone attained, the more haughty they tended to get. Conscious of it or not, they tended to act more stuck up, cocksure, arrogant, what have you. She saw it plenty of times, both professionally within her own little organization, and personally when interacting with the wealthy and the noble. But with Weavers that hadn't been the case at all. In fact, Leonid, the mightiest one of them all, had been an extraordinary pleasure to be around. He had fit right in with the band of Outriders he had been traveling with when she met him, a rather carefree, pleasant bunch of trained killers in their own right. If Nerthus hadn't known any better, she would have assumed he was a member of that merry band of wise-asses.

  And as such thoughts always did, she was drawn to remembering Johan, the leader of said merry band of wise-asses. She had found herself remembering him rather fondly of late, and the two of them had shared correspondence via messenger birds since their first meeting. While using official birds for personal use was rather frowned upon, they had playfully dressed it up as intelligence exchanges between two professionals in the field. Part of her knew she was being foolish. The life of a spy really held no room for any kind of personal attachment that didn't end in the morning. But no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she was still human. And Johan had been quite a stand-up example of the male variety. She looked at Edda again. She had first-hand knowledge that Edda had a thing for one of Johan's men, the big ox Aleksander. But Edda was rather quick to dismiss him when they talked about it. Maybe she was learning what the job took after all. But still, while Nerthus hadn’t seen Johan in a few months (three months, fourteen days, but who’s counting?), she thought of him often. What was he and his little boys club up to lately?

  After a short while their wagons left the overcrowded hustle and bustle of the outer city and entered what could be called the Craftsmen district. While not nearly as polished as its sister area in Tethis or any number of cities Nerthus had seen, it made up for it in size. Artisans and craftsmen busied themselves on projects both inside shops and in open air lots on either side of the road. Nerthus caught the sights and sounds of blacksmiths hammering steel, fires being fed, and the yells of merchants hawking wares. She also saw a large portion of them either catching quick glances or staring openly at the Consortium insignia on the wagons and riders as they rode by. Some of the looks were inquisitive, some were pleased, but most were some varying degree of hostile. Evgeny's comment about “professional rivalry” echoed in Nerthus's skull, and she wondered just how far the rivalry would go.

  She allowed herself another tight smile. Just another simple assignment. They would find their people. It wasn't a matter of “if” but “when”. The state of their people when they were found was the only real variable, as far as she could see. And if some locals were feeling particularly foolish, let them try something. They'd see that a spy, an assassin, a Weaver, and three cutthroats could handle anything they could throw at them.

  That afternoon their three wagons and their horses were safely stabled at The Steel Bells, a moderately fine tavern that was known to cater to the more engineering-minded members of Bellkeep's community. Nerthus, Edda, and Egveny were sitting in the common room around a table doing their best to look conspicuous in their Consortium attire. Egveny, with his long brown hair and round spectacles did a fantastic job of being noticeable on his own. The two women had mugs of ale in front of them, while the Weaver had a steaming cup of what smelled like herbal tea. Nerthus raised an eyebrow at the Weaver's choice.

  “Just tea, dear Cecil? Why not a pint of Hale? Our treat. I thought you Weavers were notorious lushes?”

  Egveny looked a combination of scandalized and confused for a moment, as if unsure if he was being made fun of. When he regained his composure his voice was hushed but a hint of embarrassment was there.

  “Alcohol? My ah, dear 'sister', since you aren't really in, ah, the profession, you wouldn't totally understand. My control and manipulation over the ethereal forces around us require me to be at my most aware. Anything that would impair my abilities is rather frowned upon while I am working. Did I give the wrong impression of myself?” He removed his glasses and polished them with a cloth he produced from one of his numerous pockets. “Should I, ah, order an alcoholic drink? Will that help in the ruse?”

  Nerthus spread her hands in apology. “No, I was just...”

  Egveny seemed not to notice she had spoken.

  “I wouldn't drink it though, you must understand. Alcohol is all but forbidden to us when we're, you know, on duty. It muddles our concentration too much. Wherever did you hear that we were...drunks?”

  Nerthus looked at her mug, doing her best not to laugh at the pudgy man. Edda, sitting to her left, snickered under her breath. At that, Egveny's cheeks flushed, as if he had just been caught trying to take a peek of something he shouldn't have. Nerthus had not spoken w
ith him much on the journey to Bellkeep, but she knew from the start that he was a nervous man. Certainly not one of the Weavers' field agents, to be sure.

  “It wasn't anything specific I've heard, honest. It's just that I worked with one of your associates in the past. He certainly seemed to enjoy his spirits. And baked goods. By the trunk full.” Nerthus didn't have any problem with locals knowing Egveny was a Weaver. The Consortium had a few amongst their ranks. But naming Leonid wasn't a prudent move. His existence and function within Tethis was known only to a few, and simple representatives from the Consortium wouldn't be in that small group.

  Egveny's head cocked slightly to one side, like a puppy hearing a new sound. Then his eyes widened a bit.

  “Oh. Oh! Yes, him. Well, he operates on a slightly different Plane than the rest of us, if you catch my meaning. Different, um, tasks to be handled. Different rules for him to follow. Now I see. Yeah, a few days with him is like a few days in a distillery with the barrels open. Uh, and I mean that in a nice way,” he spat out. “No disrespect meant by that! The man is a legend with us, you understand. It's just that, well, I suppose I'm a little envious of a man who can do, ah, what he can do while drunker than a priest on Thrones Day.”

  They all had a chuckle at that and drank from their cups. Edda caught Nerthus' eye and nodded towards the door. Clyde, their third hired man was walking into the room from the main door. He sat down between Edda and Egveny, a weary look to him.

  “The horses and wagons are secured. Carpey and Sailey are still outside. We may have to separate those two.” A smile appeared on his face. “Or lock them in a room together for the night. Either way, I just wanted to let you know. The two of them will take first and second watch over the wagons, I'll take third.”