“A plan,” I nodded “Yes there is a plan.” Pulling myself up from the place where I had been lying, I moved over to Jaramel, and as customary on instances like this, I started to draw in the gritty riverbank sand using my finger.
“The town is here,” a rough square drawn indicated the fact, “it has entrances to the east and west. The path that we were on when we overlooked the town diverged in both these directions, so I believe they connect to both of the town entrances further on. But judging by the size of the valley, I don’t believe they do this for quite some distance.” A brief look at Jaramel showed that I fully held his attention, “this means that anybody coming up from Vingard would take considerable time to reach our overlooking viewpoint.”
“This is not our route then?” Jaramel pointed to one of the paths that led to the village. I shook my head.
“The northern slope of the village is too steep to traverse and provides no cover. But if we leave our horses close to the summit of the southern slope which is tree covered, we can then travel down to the buildings by foot and should end up at this point here. It is the only way I can think of where we could arrive unseen, and hopefully unheard.” Jaramel nodded to show his satisfaction.
“And then what?”
“And then master Jaramel, once we have located Olaf’s whereabouts I’ll need you to create some kind of diversion, whilst I attempt to retrieve the orb.”
“A diversion?” enquired Jaramel a little concerned, “what would you suggest?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “you’ll think of something, but if I were you I would start at the stables.”
“The stables, why the stables?”
“Most of the men I have worked with in the past wouldn’t give a damn to help a friend in need, Olaf included. But put a man's horse in danger, and he’ll be at its defence in a heartbeat. It’s also the only thing that will get him away from his spoils long enough for me to have a chance at the orb.” Silence ensued as Jaramel thought this through.
“But how can you be so sure that Olaf will have the orb with him?” I smiled at the comment.
“The only person Olaf trusts is Olaf. He always keeps his treasures close by. All we have to do is find him and pray that he didn’t decide to cut short his time in this village.”
Again Jaramel remained silent as he scrutinised my scribbles in the sand before nodding his head.
“It sounds as if you know this Olaf well.”
I nodded my head; “We walked the same path for a while.”
“You did?” Jaramel’s words were full of surprise. His red eyes glared almost accusingly at me.
“Yes,” I returned somewhat hurt, “believe me it was done out of the necessity for coin more than anything.”
“But isn’t he a murdering thug by all accounts?”
“And still is,” I added. Jaramel’s stare still spoke volumes to me. “Look in the few months I journeyed with him, I never killed anybody, wounded yes, but that was only in self-defence. Unlike Olaf, I have morals, maybe only a few but I still have them!”
“Of course,” Jaramel’s calm words did not do anything to convince me that he believed anything I was saying, “It’s just that… forgive my impudence Mr Stein, but I could not help gauging your reaction every time that his name has been mentioned, are you now at odds with this man?”
At odds! I thought. If you call Olaf wanting to decapitate me and stick my head on a spiked pole and then spit at it at odds, then yes! A look to the young magic user revealed that he was not going to let this lie until he had received some sort of explanation. I sighed deeply before recollecting my shadowy past for Jaramel’s gratification.
“At odds, yes, and it’s all because I failed to return sixty gold coins and the Azorean love potion that he had commissioned me to retrieve from a merchant in Nashmere.”
“You stole from him?”
“Yes I did,” I snapped angrily, my patience with Jaramel’s accusations were wearing thin. “When you have no money in your purse, sixty gold coins is a King’s ransom! And besides, the money didn’t really belong to him anyway, more likely the truth is for it to have belonged to some poor soul that had it forcibly taken from him.” I threw the stone I had been playing with into the calm waters of the lake just to witness the chaos of ripples that it caused.
“So this is why you do not want to cross his path again?”
I nodded my agreement, “Yes that and…using the love potion I had retrieved to bed the woman he was with at the time.” Jaramel shook his head unbelievably as he prepared to go back into a trance-like state once again. But I was not going to let him get away with his gesture that easily.
“Oh, come now young master Jaramel, don’t tell me you haven’t done anything for the pleasing eye of a woman before?” Jaramel opened one blood-red eye as he sat cross-legged on the banks of the northern lake.
“My studies… do not allow much time for such activities.” I grinned a broad grin. This was news, now it was my time to pursue with some probing questioning of my own.
“Master Jaramel, are you telling me that you have NEVER been with a woman before?”
Jaramel shifted his weight uncomfortably but said nothing.
“Well, well,” I chuckled “We will see what we’ll have to do to change that then, won’t we?” I settled back onto the coarse sand with a smile upon my face. Now I didn’t feel so bad. Now at least I felt we were even.
My thoughts began to turn to Olaf and his men. He would of course, be travelling with his usual assortment of colourful characters. There would be his second in command Lando, a tall brute of a man that took great pleasure in cleaving bits off his victims with a homicidal grin and a huge double-edged sword. Then there was Chandor and Dorran, both brothers in blood and equal experts at their chosen profession of master bowmen. Many a man I had seen dropped by the flight of their deadly projectiles in the time I had spent with them, and probably the ones who gave Jantar his leg. I consciously moved the magical warmth of my buckler shield closer to my body at the thought of the pair. Molak would also be there, a minor mage of very poor quality and the runt of the group. I think the only reason that Olaf kept him around was because the few magical parlour tricks he performed would keep him and his men entertained on long nights, that, and the fact that he was the only one who ever did any cooking for the group. These were the main body of Olaf’s gang, and he never went anywhere without them. Apart from these men he would also have any number of hired thugs to do his bidding. I shook my head once again at the craziness of it all. I should be in a woman’s bed right now, not lying in wait to go and steal something from Olaf Ironfist for a second time!
A frightening thought suddenly flashed in mind, I immediately sat up with a start and turned to Jaramel.
“Jaramel, By the Gods, I almost forgot, they may have a mage with them!” Jaramel stirred from his half sleep and looked at me.
“That could pose a problem.”
“Will he be able to sense you?” I asked, my thoughts returning to the time when the red-cloaked wizard had almost spotted us.
“That depends,” said Jaramel thoughtfully, “on how powerful he is.”
I felt much better and started to relax once more upon hearing this, “oh then you probably have nothing to fear, his cooking is far better than his magic.”
“Nevertheless, I shall endeavour to take precautions.”
I nodded my head as I settled back for the third time. “You do that,” I said as I let all my tensions drift slowly away, you do that, I thought as I settled into a waking sleep.
Dark, the comforting enclosure of the surrounding night was a welcoming friend that I had used so many times before to accomplish my aims. Hopefully, on this night it would be no different. The afternoon’s cloudy sky had also remained, providing us with the perfect conditions for a little night-time robbery.
As we headed back along the road to Vingard on top of refreshed mounts, my mind remained focused. I knew what had to be done and
now was the time to do it. Now was the opportunity to pay back Baram one of the life debts I owed him.
We neared the valley of the town and dismounted to tether our mounts to an old tree stump. Then walking side by side, we made our way stealthily to stand on the pinnacle of the southern slope that overlooked the village.
Nothing. Nothing could be seen moving in the valley below, no noise reached the ears through the density of the trees, no smell of evening meals cooking on the hearth, in fact, the only clue that the valley was inhabited came from the glimmering lights of the villagers’ homes as they shone through the gloom.
I turned to Jaramel. The mage was once again wearing a living cloak of shadow just like when we had crossed the Nazoran battle plains. His normal brown coloured robe was now blacker than the night itself. I looked on jealously regarding the almost invisible apprentice. If only more wizards could be taught to steal things, what wonderful thieves they would make!
As if in summons, two burning coals of blood red light turned eerily in the darkness towards me. Jaramel’s eyes were intimidating enough in the daytime, but now in the blackness of night, standing there wrapped in a cloak of darkness with the strength of his magic clearly intensified within them!
“Jaramel, are you ready?” It was a question I did not need to ask for I knew full well that he was. I think I spoke it mainly for myself, just to make sure that it was him standing next to me, and not some ghastly apparition straight from the dark plain.
The two beacons of flame moved slowly up and down to signify their readiness. With a final look to our goal, we simultaneously stepped forwards and started our decent of the valley’s southern slope.
If at all possible the night appeared to become blacker still, as the foliage of the Elderwood trees around us, successfully obscured what little light that came from above. My eyes fixed on a focal point of light that emitted from one of the illuminated dwellings below, and I corrected my balance yet again. If not being able to see where I was going was not bad enough, I also had to contend with the treacherous ground of the incline as well. One false step, one misplaced foot and the small twigs and hidden roots underfoot would send me tumbling down the rest of the way!
Jaramel, however, seemed to be having no such difficulties. His almost clearer than day night time vision had already placed the apprentice wizard a clear ten paces ahead of me. At least I think it was him? At any rate, it was a fast moving outline of darkness about the same size and build as Jaramel.
Five precarious minutes later and I finally reached the foot of the slope. A huddled piece of the night was already waiting for me in the gap between two of the low wooden buildings. I crouched down next to it.
“Seen anything yet?” I enquired with a whisper. The cloaked shadow responded by shaking a shrouded head.
I crept slowly forwards until I got a clear view of the street ahead. If we had been in the south, then Olaf would have certainly had sentries placed at either end of the village, mainly to spy for the King’s men. But since he was deep in the north, and far from the reach of the south’s justice, I was kind of hoping that he would feel relaxed enough not have bothered with them. I peered cautiously out in the lengthy street that made up the best part of Vingard. A single row of solid-looking log cabins, much like the one Artemis lives in, faced each other along its length. What I did find strange about the quiet looking street was that none of the doors of the cabins were open, and most windows had their storm shutters securely sealed, protecting them from the most violent of winds on one of the most calmest of nights? There were also no people visible anywhere!
I scratched my head over this puzzlement until I got the answer I sought when the door to the log cabin on my right suddenly opened. A warm triangle of light cut into the murky gloom of the street ahead as footsteps could be heard stepping out onto the wooden stairs that led down from each of the homes.
I shrunk back into the shadows…
“Don’t go Jed, not tonight, not with them still there, please.” It was a woman’s voice who pleaded from somewhere inside the dwelling.
“But I’m sick of them I tell you! Coming in here like they own the place, who do they think they are? Do you know it’s been three days now since I have had a drop of ale!” The grumbling words of a man were quickly replied to.
“But you know what they did to old man Helix, and besides they should be gone soon. I overheard one of them saying that they will be moving to the next town tomorrow.”
“Bah! If it wasn’t for all our young men being sent off to fight in that blasted war, we could have shown them a thing of two.”
A brief silence ensued before the woman’s voice spoke again.
“Leave it, for now Jed. Please, for me, just until they leave the tavern and the village along with it.”
“I suppose you’re right…I guess I won’t be much good to anybody dead. It’s just that what’s an honest man supposed to do in times like these? I wish, for just once…”
Whatever was said in the rest of the conversation was lost from my ears as the beacon of light disappeared from the ground, replaced instead with the sound of a door closing with a thud.
The tavern…I should have guessed really. I moved forward again to my previous position at the side of Jed’s home and looked out once again. The buildings at this end of the street all appeared to be roughly the same size, but those towards the far end looked larger and differently shaped to the rest. This would be the best place to start looking for the tavern and stables.
I turned around to Jaramel once again. Luka’s apprentice had not moved since last time I had seen him. I aired my concerns.
“Jaramel, are you well?”
“I am concentrating on concealing my presence,” he replied somewhat awkwardly. Thoughts of how difficult this had been for the young wizard the last time he had encountered another magic user refreshed my memory, “it appears though we must head for the tavern,” he added in hushed concentration.
“It appears so. Come, we can reach the far end of this street by going behind these dwellings.”
The odours from the stables and the noises from the tavern were heard, long before we had managed to see either one of them.
The tavern was in a sturdy looking building made from large logs, which consisted of two sizeable sections that formed an L-shape to extend around a corner on the opposite side of the street. The stench of the stables wafted from a low, long, wooden shack that was positioned at the edge of the village, six buildings count from our current hiding place. No guards were visible, and nothing could be heard except the occasional whine of a horse and the muffled sounds of boisterous revelry that was happening in the building across the way. I did feel a bit uncomfortable though. Although I could not see any of Olaf’s men, it did not mean to say that they were not there. With the visibility such as it was, it could have allowed for several of them to be wandering around in the shadows, and I would not have known about any of them. Luckily though I had Jaramel with me.
“Jaramel, can you see anything?”
“There is one man who has just walked into the stables carrying what appeared to be a saddle. Apart from that, I see no one”… it was good enough for me. Apparently, Olaf had relaxed his guard, and all the residents of Vingard were safely locked up in their homes like frightened rabbits, all the better for us.
I turned from the street back to the apprentice behind me.
“Jaramel now is the time. Give me five minutes to position myself and then create your diversion. But as soon as you have, get yourself back to the horses and await my return. Do not linger.”
“Concerned Mr Stein?” Jaramel’s words were spoken with just a hint of a jest.
“Not at all,” I smiled back “I just don’t want to explain to your master the foolish way his apprentice had gotten himself killed.”
“You need not be concerned,” he retorted “I have more than enough energy within me for the task at hand. Oh, and by the way, I sense a great deal of ma
gic emitting from the direction of that tavern.” I acknowledged with a nod.
“Good, let’s do this one for Baram then.”
“For Baram!” came his reply, and then he was gone.
Seconds later, loud, rapturous laughter drew my attention back in the direction of the alehouse. The door to the establishment now lay open, and a tall man dressed in a long, light-coloured fur coat came staggering out into the cold night air. Wobbling forwards he managed to walk only four or five steps on shaky legs before falling to his knees to violently vomit on the muddy ground before him. Another stockier man quickly appeared in the light of the doorway and seemed to be taking great pleasure in the other’s misfortune. He laughed at the spectacle and turned to say something behind. This sent up another great bellow of laughter from those still inside the tavern. How many there were I could not say, but there sounded enough!
“One for the road Gant,” chuckled the man in the doorway before throwing the mug of ale he held in the other’s direction, after which he disappeared back into the noisy tavern, closing the door behind him.
The man Gant staggered to his feet. At first glance, I thought it might have been Lando and a chance for me to settle an old score! But that would just have to wait. Meanwhile, Gant was wobbling along the street as if he were on a ship’s deck in a terrible storm. He had just reached a spot directly opposite my position when he then decided it was time to relieve his bladder. Moving between the dark gap of two of the buildings he started his business with his back to me.
A thought sprang to mind. When the confusion started, who would cast a second glance over one of their own? True this Gant was slightly larger than I, but with that coat pulled high around me, and the collar up, who could say?
My mind was made up. Any moment now Jaramel would hopefully have the whole place in an uproar. No time for indecisions.
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 31