The man bowed again. “Yes, Master Stavin, but the Guild says all goods, not just trade goods.”
Stavin grumbled as he brought out his purse. “Two and a half percent of thirty-six silver crowns is, let’s see, nine sparks.” He handed over one silver crown. “You owe me a spark.”
The guard bowed and backed away until he reached their little shack. Someone inside took the silver coin and handed back one dark-copper coin. The guard returned to Stavin’s side and handed the coin up.
Stavin took the spark and dropped it into his pouch, then kneed Tru forward. The border guards all stood back as Stavin increased his pace to a canter. Once they were clear of the border by about ten dragons he slowed down.
Karvik rode up to his side and asked, “What was that all about?”
Stavin shrugged. “At a guess, someone anticipated the agreement between the kingdoms. Or an enterprising thief has set up shop as a tax collector.”
Karvik looked back and shook his head. “And there is no one to ask between here and Aravad.”
“Nope.”
Chapter 30
THE FAR EASTERN REACHES OF KAVADIA were bordered by a line of hills that were called mountains, but only by the locals. None of them were even as tall as the stump of Kel’Kavin, but they served as an impediment to travel as well as marking the border.
The road showed the lack of maintenance that resulted from not having a king. Ruts, washed-out places, and fallen trees were a constant problem, though it looked like someone had passed not too long before them as no fallen trees blocked the road.
The ride up into the hills was accompanied by the songs of birds and the buzz of insects. It was also a reason to maintain a state of heightened alert for the guards. Kavadia was bad enough. Kavadian hills covered with thick forest were worse.
Karvik moved Stavin back ten men over his objections. “It’s Kavadia, Stave.”
“I know that, Kar. How many times have we been attacked in Kavadia? But look at us,” he said as he waved his hand in a circle. “Thirty-four armed men. How many bandits are fool enough to attack a small army?”
“All it takes is one.”
Stavin grumbled but let Karvik have his way. It took three days to cross the hills, and they saw no sign of anyone. They did find convenient camping spots near water sources that had obviously been established for trade caravans. They were each big enough for a twenty-wagon caravan to circle their wagons and spend the night.
Karvik shook his head at the first one. “Looks like your friends in the Traders’ Guild have been busy for a long time.”
Stavin nodded as he walked around. “Ahlic told me that the Guild has always done all it can to make these roads trade friendly. These camps have been in service for hundreds of years. Each is about a day’s travel by wagon from the next.”
Karvik looked around, but ended up shaking his head. “We’ll water the horses and refill our bottles, but I think it’s too early to stop for the night.”
Stavin said, “Agreed,” and started seeing to Tru’s needs.
Their fourth day on the road, such as it was, led them down into a pleasant valley that opened onto the plains. The valley was filled with oddly square meadows and suspiciously straight streams. Stavin held his hand up and Karvik moved up beside him.
“What’s wrong?”
Stavin shook his head as he continued to look around. “These lands were settled at one time.”
Karvik looked around and nodded. “A long time ago. Kavadia was a well-populated province of the empire. Look over there,” he said, pointing at some mounds in the distance, “those could be stone foundations.”
Stavin looked and had to agree. “And a stone wall over here. I’d guess twenty or thirty farms.”
Karvik leaned forward to look at Stavin’s face and asked, “What’s bothering you? This isn’t the first time we’ve ridden through an abandoned settlement.”
Stavin nodded. “Yes, we’ve seen this before, but this one feels special for some reason. Something horrible happened here, Kar.”
“Oh? Are you certain?”
Stavin turned toward Karvik with a haunted expression on his face and nodded. “Someone did something so horrible that it left an indelible taint on these lands.”
“Can you tell what?”
“No, I just have a sick-to-my-stomach feeling that gets worse the farther we go into this valley.” The guardsmen all moved forward to surround Stavin as they continued down into the valley.
It was getting dark when they found the remains of a town that had once spanned the road. The over-grown ruins of buildings lined both sides of a wide avenue, and indications of side streets extended out into the countryside. The road widened abruptly around a copse of trees, and Karvik sent five men forward to investigate. They reported back moments later.
“Major Kel’Carin, there’s a well in the center of the trees, and there’s a new bucket and rope on the winch. Someone has obviously been using it.”
Stavin was looking around suspiciously with his shoulders hunched. Turning to Karvik he said, “No one drink from the well. We’ll give some to a pack horse first and see if it’s safe.”
Karvik shook his head slowly. “No, Stave. Remember, I have the Food Taster spells on me. I’ll take a sip and see if it’s safe.”
“Kar, I don’t want to risk your life.”
“You aren’t. And you decide this now?”
Stavin sighed deeply. “We’re on the road home, Kar. Very well. It’s getting dark anyway, so set camp. We’ll go to the well and see if it’s safe.”
Karvik looked around and said, “You heard him. Set camp. If the water is safe we’ll start a bucket brigade to bring water to the horses.”
Stavin let Karvik lead the way between the trees. The well was in good repair, and showed that someone had been maintaining it. Stavin looked at the bucket and grunted in surprise.
“Huh. I think we’re all right, Kar. Look.” He pointed at the glyph on the side of the bucket.
It took Karvik a moment to see what Stavin had seen, but he finally nodded. “The glyph of Zel’Kaudell. I’m still checking it first.”
“Agreed,” Stavin sighed. “No sense getting poisoned now.”
Karvik looked the bucket over carefully before dropping it into the well. It fell a surprisingly short distance, and it only took twenty-three turns of the crank to bring it back up.
Karvik smelled the water first, then took a scant spoon-full into his mouth. A few breaths later he nodded and swallowed. “It’s fine. It’s a little woody tasting, but nothing to worry about.”
Stavin took a sip and swished it around in his mouth for a moment, then spit. “It’s cold and wet. That’s all I care about right now.” He finally took a full drink and sighed. “That’s good.” He walked to the edge of the trees and said, “Bring buckets.”
Each man grabbed a collapsible canvas and leather bucket and headed toward the trees while Stavin returned to Karvik’s side. The discipline of their youth had the whole group, Stavin and Karvik included, filling and carrying water to the horses first. Only when each man had seen to his mount and pack horse did any of them see to their own needs. A final trip brought water to replenish their personal water bottles.
Stavin grinned at Karvik and received a laugh in reply. “Yeah,” was all Stavin needed to say. Karvik’s expression remained one of amused tolerance.
The meal was typical for the men: Beans boiled with a ham bone. Stavin ate with his men, relaxing and just being himself. With these men, at least, he had no need of pretense.
Night fell and everyone except the sentries went to bed early. Stavin fell into a deep sleep almost instantly, but found himself standing in the road, looking around at the town. It looked like any farm community from the kingdoms he knew. The buildings around the well were well-kept and painted in strong browns and whites. One building stood two stories tall, and on the balcony rail hung the glyph of Eshokanal.
Stavin felt his skin chill, as
if even here in his dream the Evilest One was watching him. The feeling of disquiet Stavin felt intensified for a moment, then passed as quickly as it had come. Turning, he saw the people going about their everyday business and not paying any attention to him. The well drew him, exerting a pull that his dream-self couldn’t resist. As he drew near he saw that there were glyphs carved into the white top layer of stones. He read them without stopping to think.
Dedicate your life to Eshokanal and drink freely of his bounty.
Stavin stepped back and struggled against a sudden compulsion to utter words of praise to the Evilest One. As his mouth opened he twisted sideways and--
--sat up in his tent panting for breath. He whispered, “Gods Above.”
The sentry bent over and asked, “Warmaster?”
Stavin shook his head and replied, “Just a dream. Carry on.”
The sentry said, “Very well, Sir,” then returned to his post.
Stavin lay back down and stared at the peak of his tent. He knew this road was ancient, but he hadn’t suspected that it dated to the days of Vaskan, or that ancient Vaskan had stretched this far east or north. Thinking back to his dream vision, he was sure the town had been part of Vaskan.
He knew from his studies that Lux had expanded across the southern reaches of the Brondian Continent before expanding north into Reynadia. Kavadia hadn’t been settled until Lux had completely assimilated Reynadia, and that hadn’t happened until Coravia had been pacified.
More old lessons surfaced as his mind wandered. He remembered the lesson of how Lux had come into Coravia as conquerors, and had to fight a civil war because of it. That made more sense now. Lux hadn’t just annexed empty territory: They had attacked and conquered Vaskan. The warriors of Vaskan must have fought against them with everything they had. How could Lux defeat the Warrior Culture of Vaskan?
Stavin tried to go back to sleep as his dream faded, but the adrenaline in his system kept him awake. Something happened here that is still resonating. Something that destroyed this town and is keeping it from being rebuilt.
He lay awake until the sentry said, “First light, Warmaster.”
Stavin crawled out and put on his armor, letting the sentry fasten his last buckles, then headed for the fire. He wasn’t surprised to find Karvik already there.
Karvik handed him a hot cup of kava. “Ready to go?” he asked.
“Not yet, Kar. I want a better look at that well.”
Karvik nodded, then added, “After we get more light. I want every horse to get a full bucket of water as well before we leave.”
Stavin looked over his shoulder at the trees, then walked over and collected his food. They still had enough pork bacon for every man to have a slice, but that was the only meat they had left except for some bones for the beans.
Stavin savored his bacon, eating slowly for a change, then looked at Karvik and said, “I want all of our men who have bows ready to bring down anything they can for meat.”
Karvik sighed. “That’s just six men, Stave, and all Chosen. We talked about it during the ride through the hills. Eldick says we’re too noisy to let them hunt while we’re together.”
“Then we’ll have them go ahead,” Stavin concluded. “We’ll send them on their way as soon as they eat so they can start hunting while we check out the well. Have them leave their pack horses behind.”
Karvik nodded as he stuffed the last bite of his meal into his mouth, then washed his plate. He walked over to where the men were eating and said, “You men with bows are going hunting. The rest of us are going to be following about two spans behind you. Leave your pack horses with us. If you kill anything, wait for us by the road.”
All six men said, “Yes, Major,” then started getting ready. Less than half a span later they were on the road.
Stavin watched them go, then looked toward the trees. “I think it’s light enough to go to the well, Kar.” Karvik nodded and headed for the trees. So did all of their men, buckets in hand.
Stavin stopped short when he saw the well. He whispered, “That’s wrong. There should be one more course of stones. White ones with glyphs on them.”
“How do you know?” Karvik whispered.
“My dream. Why are you whispering?”
“Because you are,” Karvik answered.
Stavin looked startled and whispered, “Because I’m--” He paused and shook his head, then continued in a normal voice, “Point made. In my dream there was a top course of stones engraved with ancient glyphs.”
“What did they say?” Karvik asked as he looked at the well.
“Dedicate your life to Esho and drink freely of his bounty.”
Karvik exclaimed, “What?!” loudly, making everyone look at him.
Stavin shook his head. “Don’t ask me to say it again.” He turned and pointed. “In my dream there was a temple of the Evilest One right over there. And when I read the glyphs they put me under a compulsion to do just that. I had to wake up to break it.”
Karvik was looking around suspiciously. “If that’s--That means this town was part of Vaskan.”
“Yes, and it has been abandoned since Lux annexed this part of Kavadia. Over two thousand years.”
Stavin had been kicking at the undergrowth and finally found a white stone. He knelt beside it and pried it out of the ground, then he used his fingers to brush away some of the dirt and recognized the glyph for praise.
“This is proof, Kar. I don’t want to stay here any longer. Let’s water the horses and go. The hunters should be far enough ahead by now.”
Karvik nodded and started giving orders. In less than a span everyone was mounted and in formation. Stavin led off without saying anything, so Karvik joined him. Behind them their men formed into two columns to continue their journey home.
Stavin was lost in thought as he rode. How far did Vaskan extend? he wondered yet again. The Book of Inatat didn’t contain a map, and the arm and foot measurements were so vague none of them could convert it.
Master Kel’Zorgan had theorized that an arm was half what they called a span, but how long was a foot? Everyone’s feet were different lengths. He was ever so grateful that Dandarshandrake had given them the distance and time measurements they were familiar with.
One finger was obvious. One hand was four fingers. One cubit was four hands. One pace was two cubits. One span was five cubits. One dragon was one hundred fifty-three cubits. It was so simple.
Time was just as simple. A span was the time it took for the sun to travel one finger-width across the sky. A hand was four fingers. A day was sunrise to sunrise. A moon was twenty-eight days, and a year was thirteen moons plus the eleven days of the mid-winter festival.
He finally just shook his head and started looking around again. There were still remnants of farms around them. Whatever the town had been called, it had been large.
The valley had opened out into the plains just a double hand of dragons past the town, and the level road let them pick up their pace. They had been traveling for more than half the day when Karvik spotted a horse by the road. Soon a man in their uniform stood and waved. Karvik was the first to speak.
“Private Zel’Bordan, report.”
“Sir, the rest took off after a wounded prong-horn. I was detailed to wait here for you.”
Stavin nodded and said, “Very well. We’ll wait here for the hunters.”
Karvik shouted, “Guards, dismount,” as he swung down himself.
Stavin was looking around. “Is there water by those trees?”
“Yes, Prince Stavin,” the private answered. “That’s where we spotted the animals. It’s just a trickle, but the horses all drank their fill before they went after the prong-horns.”
Stavin looked at Karvik, then led Tru toward the trees. The water was clear, and after Karvik had given the nod Stavin drank as well. The water was warm, but tasted better than the well-water had.
Stavin dumped his water bottle and rinsed it out, then refilled it from the strea
m. All around him his guardsmen were doing the same. Stavin stood and looked around, then voiced his thoughts. “I wonder how the hunt is going?”
* * *
Eldick, as the highest ranking of the privates, socially at least, took the lead as soon as they left the group. “Cartal, you’re the best shot, so you take point. We’ll follow about a dragon behind you.”
Cartal nodded and urged his mount forward a little faster, then dropped back to a walk. He was scanning both sides of the road for signs of life, but nothing was moving. Soon the heat and slow clopping of his horse’s hooves were lulling him into a light doze. It was then that he saw something move on the north side of the road.
Mastering his own reaction and resisting the urge to twist in his saddle, he looked north without turning his head. There, along a line of trees, were seven prong-horns. Their tan and black coats would have hidden them in dry scrub brush, but against the green of the trees they were all too obvious.
He rode on until they seemed to be getting restless, then twisted in the saddle, drew his bow, and let fly an arrow in one fluid motion.
The prong-horns broke and ran as soon as he moved, and the big male he’d been aiming for eluded his arrow. A female wasn’t so lucky. She ran right into the arrow’s path. He saw the arrow strike her in the side, but she gave no sign of it except to stumble a little.
Cartal stopped his horse until they were well away, then dismounted and walked over to where the animals had been. There was a spray of blood on the grass, and when he found his arrow it was completely covered.
The sound of trickling water drew him, and he pushed through the trees and brush to find a small stream flowing by. That explained the animals and trees. He let his horse drink, then had some for himself.
The sound of horses made him turn and wave. The rest of the guardsmen joined him but remained silent. Looking up at Eldick he nodded.
“I hit a prong-horn doe. Wasn’t aiming at her, but she ran right into the arrow’s path.”
Eldick nodded. “How solid was your hit?”
“Low in the chest, just before the gut.”
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