by Mark Dame
“I am Gudbrant, Captain of the Garthset Militia. I would speak with your captain.”
The guard eyed Gudbrant suspiciously for a moment before answering.
“No one has passed this way from Garthset in years. Why should I believe you are who you say you are? You look more like the captain of a troop of vagabonds than the captain of a militia.”
“We have had a difficult journey and spent some time as guests of the orcs at Gurnborg. But perhaps we should let your captain judge the merits of my claim.”
The guard looked at him for a moment more, then turned to a message runner sitting by a guard house.
“Summon Captain Adalbern. Tell him that someone claiming to be from Garthset wishes to speak with him.”
The messenger jumped up and ran off down the street.
“Adalbern?” Gudbrant asked. “What came of Captain Wynnstan?”
“You can wait over there,” the guard said, ignoring Gudbrant’s question and pointing to the guard house. “Remove your weapons and leave them with the guards inside.”
Gudbrant tried to get more from the guard, but he refused to answer any questions. Resigned to wait for Captain Adalbern, the party filed into the guard house. Inside, two guards sat at a table. One of them pointed to a row of shelves, all empty. The guards watched as the party unstrapped their weapon belts.
“I don’t like this,” Sigrid said, putting her pickax on one of the shelves.
“Patience, my friend,” Gudbrant said. “These are dangerous times and we are strangers here. Trust is hard to come by, when every day brings the possibility of war.”
“I, for one, would rather sit here unarmed than sit in an open field hoping an orc patrol doesn’t find us,” Flyn said.
Sigrid grumbled but said no more.
A quarter hour passed before the guard they first met came in. He was joined by another man pulling a small cart with food and a jug.
“The Captain is attending to other matters and will be here when he can. In the meantime, he has sent some refreshments for you.”
The second man passed around plates and mugs, then filled the mugs with wine and set trays of fruits, breads, and cheese on the table. When he finished, he left without saying a word.
“Thank you,” Gudbrant said.
The guard nodded, then turned and followed the other man out the door. Flyn and his companions stood around the table, staring at the food.
“Well, I’m not shy,” Harvig said finally. He sat down, filled his plate, and started eating. The others joined him, and soon they were talking, laughing, and filling their bellies with the first fresh food they had eaten in almost two weeks. In Sigrid’s case, months.
When the food was gone, they sat back and drained their mugs. Flyn was surprised by how much he had eaten. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he had been. He yawned and stretched. With his belly full, he was ready to go to sleep. He was beginning to wonder just how long they would have to wait when the door opened again.
The man who walked through the door was dressed in a uniform similar to the one worn by the militiamen in Garthset. Two gold braids trimmed the neck of his tunic, like those on Gudbrant’s.
“You must be Captain Adalbern,” Gudbrant said, standing to greet the man.
“And you must be the one who claims to be the Captain of the Garthset Militia,” the captain replied.
“Gudbrant, at your service. I knew Captain Wynnstan. What became of him?”
“You have not been to Hemdown in a long while then. Captain Wynnstan was killed in a battle with the orcs many years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear. He was a good man.”
“He was,” Adalbern said. “Now, what brings you all the way from Garthset with this…lot.” He eyed Sigrid suspiciously.
“The reason behind our journey is a long tale and not for idle conversation. Perhaps we can go somewhere to talk in confidence?” Gudbrant glanced at the two guards.
Adalbern paused before answering, his eyebrows raised.
“I can send the guards outside, but I must insist you send the rest of your party out as well,” he said.
“We can agree to that,” Gudbrant said. “But Flyn should stay. He’s at the heart of the matter.”
Gudbrant signaled Randell and Harvig to leave the guardhouse. Sigrid followed. Once they were gone, Adalbern sent the two guards out as well, then sat at the table. Flyn noticed he sat on the side closest to their weapons. Gudbrant took a seat opposite Adalbern. Flyn, not sure where he was supposed to sit, sat next to him.
“Now, Captain, perhaps you can give me some answers?”
“You are familiar with the tale of Andor and the Lost Clan, are you not?”
“Of course,” Adalbern said. He leaned back and folded his arms.
“Well, I present to you Flynygyn Geirrsen of the Andor Clan.”
“I’m a very busy man. Please don’t waste my time with fairytales,” Adalbern scoffed. He moved to stand.
“No, it’s true,” Flyn said. “I’m from Trygsted, and until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know anything about Tirmar or that there were any other clans in the world.”
“Trygsted. And where is Trygsted?”
“It’s an island not too far off the east coast of Tirmar. I don’t know exactly how far. I got lost and found myself here.”
Flyn told Adalbern about everything that had happened to him until he’d met Gudbrant outside of Garthset.
“We were searching for a pair of ogres that raided a nearby farmstead when we found Flyn,” Gudbrant said. “While we were trying to figure out who he was and why he was there, an orc raiding party attacked us, aided by the very ogres we were looking for. We drove them off, but they had Flyn’s friend. After Flyn healed, and much discussion, I decided to help him find his friend and try to rescue him.” He left out the part about disobeying the Thane’s orders.
“The orcs grab people all the time,” Adalbern said. “Rescue from Gurnborg is impossible. Surely you aren’t that foolish.”
“It is true that I had another motive. The orcs took the Thane’s daughter and my wife-to-be.”
“You expected to break into Gurnborg and rescue two prisoners?” Adalbern sat back again, shaking his head.
“It’s more complicated than that, but we did sneak into Gurnborg.”
“Now I know you’re lying to me.” Adalbern stood up. “As I said, I have no time for fairytales.”
“Talk to Sigrid, our dwarf friend outside. She was a prisoner there.”
“What of your friend and the Thane’s daughter? You just left them?”
“We discovered they were moved to Uskleig.”
Adalbern laughed. “I don’t know whether to be amazed by your story, or just throw you out. I’m far too busy. We have real problems. Orc raiding parties from Gurnborg are becoming more numerous, and coming closer to Hemdown every day. In the last two days alone my scouts have reported dozens of them between here and the mountains. Good day, Captain Gudbrant. You may lodge in Hemdown as any other traveler. Your weapons will remain here until you depart.”
Adalbern turned to leave.
“You’re seeing more orcs because they’re looking for us.”
Adalbern turned back and stared at Gudbrant, apparently trying to decide if Gudbrant was telling the truth.
“So you riled up the orcs and led them here?”
“Not intentionally. The majority of the orc force left for Asgerdale the night we snuck in. If not for that, we would never have escaped. Even so, they still have enough to send out patrols to search for us. And they’re very determined. You see, Ugglar discovered Flyn is an Andor and intended on sending him to Uskleig to be interrogated by Jarot himself. We believe that’s why his friend, Kel, was taken there.”
“Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t stay here,” Adalbern said, his voice quieter. “If they are after this one, as you say, they may try to attack Hemdown searching for him.”
“Please. We are tired and wounded. We have
very little of our supplies left. Turning us away would most likely mean our deaths. Perhaps I could speak to your Thane,” Gudbrant said.
“No, that is out of the question.” Adalbern paced back and forth, his jaw clenched and his face drawn.
“If the orcs are going to attack, they’ll attack whether we’re here or not,” Gudbrant pointed out. “But as I said, most of their force went to Asgerdale, so they don’t have enough troops to mount an assault on Hemdown.”
“Regardless, why should we aid you when you are the cause of our turmoil?”
“Blaming us for the orcs’ actions is foolish and naive, and to turn us away because they have stepped up their patrols is cowardice. I have never known the militia of Hemdown to be cowards.”
Adalbern scowled at Gudbrant, who returned the captain’s gaze without blinking. Finally, Adalbern looked away and sighed. “Very well. You can stay until tomorrow. After that… We shall see.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you’ll join us for dinner this evening and we can discuss matters further.”
“Perhaps.”
Adalbern left quickly, leaving Flyn and Gudbrant alone.
“Well, at least we can sleep in a bed for one night.” Gudbrant smiled at Flyn. “Come on. Let’s find the inn and get settled.”
Noon had come before they left the guardhouse. The gate guard directed them to an inn called The Blue Dragon, a short walk from the gate.
The sun beat down on the dusty street that was already thick with people. On either side of the main road, merchants shouted out to the crowd, offering everything from exotic fruits to “magic” trinkets. Butchers peddled fresh beef, pork, chicken, and other meat Flyn didn’t recognize. Other merchants offered live versions of the same.
“Is it always like this?” Flyn said, staring in wonder. He imagined that this was what Osthorp must be like during one of its festivals.
“No,” Gudbrant said. “It used to be busier. Or course, even Garthset used to be busier, though never like this.”
Flyn nodded, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds. He had never seen so many people in one place before. He felt dizzy from the din of the crowd and the braying of the livestock. Somewhere a blacksmith hammer clanged. Merchants reached out and grabbed passersby, trying to pull them into their makeshift shops. Shoppers pushed and shoved their way past the travelers.
The group pressed through the throng of people, choking on the sour, sweaty stench of the people, the spicy and pungent scents from the food carts, and the musky aroma of the livestock. Sigrid scowled as people hit her in the face with hands, elbows, or packages, seemingly oblivious to the dwarf.
Gudbrant stopped at several merchants so they could purchase new clothes, which he also paid for. None of the merchants had anything to fit a dwarf, so Sigrid had to make do. She ended up with a tunic that came to her knees and pants she would have to cut off.
At the inn, the common room was already filled with lunch patrons. Gudbrant flagged down the innkeeper, who provided them with room keys and told them where they could find the well. Then he pardoned himself for not having more time to help them and rushed off to return to his lunch crowd. The travelers, too tired to concern themselves over his abruptness, retired to their rooms.
Later that afternoon they met back in the common room, now mostly empty. Clean and rested with their new clothes, they all felt refreshed. Sigrid, truly free from her captivity, didn’t even mind that her new clothes didn’t fit right.
“A far sight better than what I had before,” she said.
The innkeeper approached as they were talking.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “I apologize again for earlier. The noontime crowd is very demanding. I trust your rest was satisfactory?”
“Yes, thank you,” Gudbrant replied.
“Good, good. Captain Adalbern has left a message for you. He said the Thane requests your presence at the Thane’s Hall at the dinner bell. If you leave now, you should just make it,” the innkeeper said, and proceeded to give them directions to the Thane’s Hall.
Gudbrant thanked him and the innkeeper returned to the kitchen.
“Well, let’s not keep the Thane waiting,” Gudbrant said.
The party left the inn and followed the innkeeper’s directions. The shops and homes were similar to those in Garthset, most built with stone, although some were constructed of wood. As they made their way deeper into the town, the structures grew older, with cracks in the stones, or corners crumbling away. Moss and ivy covered many of the walls. Some buildings showed signs of repair work, though even that appeared to have been done long ago. The streets too grew older with more cracks and missing flagstones, especially after they had left the main road.
Finally, the street they were on ended in a large circular courtyard with a fountain in the middle. On one side was a temple with a bell tower and on the other a large stone building, bigger and better maintained than the others. Two sentries flanked the large double doors into the building.
“This must be the Thane’s Hall,” Gudbrant said.
The guards stepped in front of the doors as they approached.
“Halt,” one of the guards said. “State your name and business.”
“I am Captain Gudbrant of Garthset. The Thane invited us to join him for dinner.”
“You will wait here,” the guard said. He opened the door and spoke to someone inside, then turned back to continue blocking the way.
After a few minutes, the door opened again and Captain Adalbern came out.
“Captain Gudbrant,” he said. “Good of you to come. I recounted your tale to the Thane and he wishes to discuss it with you. Please, follow me.”
The guards held open the doors and the travelers followed Adalbern into the building. The interior was much like that of the Thane’s Hall in Garthset, with polished wood floors and ceilings and lanterns hung on the walls to provide light. Adalbern led them through several hallways until they reached a large dining room.
A table that Flyn guessed could seat thirty people filled most of the room. The walls were covered by tapestries, many depicting farmers harvesting crops and horses pulling carts full of produce. Guards were positioned along the walls around the room. Chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, providing light from hundreds of candles.
Adalbern led them to the table where an old man with gray hair about his shoulders sat. He was wearing a long, flowing robe and around his neck he wore a gold pendant of a circle and cross. He rose to meet the travelers.
“My Lord,” Adalbern said. “May I present Gudbrant, Captain of the Garthset Militia.”
“Health and happiness to you, My Lord,” Gudbrant said, holding out his hand.
“Health and happiness, Captain,” the Thane said, clasping Gudbrant’s arm. “I am Theodard, Thane of Hemdown.”
Gudbrant introduced the rest of the party to the Thane. “These are my closest friends, Randell and Harvig. Sigrid is a dwarf from the Kirr Clan. And this is Flynygyn of the Andors.”
Theodard stepped forward to look at Flyn, eyeing him up and down.
“Well, he doesn’t look like an Ilfin, but an Andor?” The Thane shook his head. “I cannot believe that. The Andors were lost at sea, if they ever existed at all.”
“Please, I don’t mean any disrespect,” Flyn said. “Wherever I go, people seem to have a hard time believing that I’m from Trygsted. I don’t understand why and I’m not even sure why it matters. Everyone seems to think there’s something special about the Andors, but we’re just people. In fact, back on Trygsted, no one would believe me if I told them about you.”
“Well, Andor or not, Adalbern told me your story, but I want to hear it from you. Sit and we’ll talk while we wait for dinner to be served.”
Theodard returned to the seat at the head of the table. He directed Flyn to sit next to him on one side, and Gudbrant on the other. The rest filled in seats on either side, with Adalbern at the end. Once they were settled and drinks poured, the Thane urged Flyn to re
count his travels.
For the second time that day, he described what had happened to him since he and Kel had set out on their trip. Theodard interrupted him periodically, asking for clarification and additional details as he went. Dinner was served while they were talking. When Flyn was finished, the Thane sat thinking.
“Well, Adalbern,” he said after several minutes. “What do you think of our guests?”
“My Lord, I can’t believe that this man is of the Lost Clan, but at least part of their story appears to have some truth to it. The orcs of Gurnborg have been very active in the Blaslet Plains for the last few days, which corresponds to when they claim to have escaped. And their armor is clearly from Garthset.”
“Then you think they are lying about this man being from Trygsted.”
“I do, but I do not know for what purpose.”
“My Lord,” Gudbrant interrupted. “Whether you believe Flyn is an Andor or not should not matter. We ask nothing more of you than to let us rest and recover in Hemdown. We shall pay for our lodging and supplies, and when we are sufficiently rested, we will be on our way.”
“Then why the insistence to meet with me this morning?” Adalbern said.
“I felt it would be a courtesy to inform you that I was here and to warn you of the orcs that are searching for us. However, you seem to have knowledge of the orcs’ movements already, so my counsel would seem to be unneeded.”
Theodard chuckled and Adalbern frowned. Gudbrant turned his attention back to the Thane.
“My Lord, I believe Flyn is an Andor, and so does Ugglar. We mean to rescue his friend from Uskleig and by the grace of the gods, perhaps my Brenna as well. None of that need be your concern, but we require rest and supplies before we set out on our task.”
“Very well,” Theodard said. “You may stay in Hemdown as you like, but should the orcs attack, looking for the Andor, why should I not give them what they want?”
“Surely you wouldn’t do such a thing,” Gudbrant said.
“I didn’t say I would. I merely asked why I should place the life of one stranger over the lives of my people. After all, the orcs don’t seem to be intent on killing him.”