Spellscribed: Provenance

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Spellscribed: Provenance Page 26

by Kristopher Cruz


  The second bowl beyond the gate was accessed by a large sloping road that traveled up the mountainside in loosely sweeping curves, giving switchbacks and plenty of places for defenders to fall back to. The bowl was predominately additional farmland, but also contained most all of the housing for the farmers of the first two bowls. This area was the first part of Balator to boast natural security as the mountain walls were carved to form actual barriers.

  The designer of the city had made the transitions up from one bowl to the next to utilize choke points in the way the bowls were carved out of the mountain. Once past the gate, the rest of the bowls had bottleneck paths into the bowl above it. Since the bulk of the city’s flat ground was carved out of stone, the materials carved up had been used in the construction of the city’s buildings. It was not uncommon to see houses carved out of the sides of the very bowl they lived in.

  The bowls decreased in diameter significantly each level up it went. While the first bowl was ten miles across, the second was a mere six. The third was five, fourth was three, and the fifth and sixth bowls were approximately two miles across. The seventh bowl was only a mile, and the eight bowl a half mile. The eighth bowl of Balator had only the castle built within it however, as well as the surrounding grounds. The seventh bowl held the many temples and churches of the religions the barbarians followed alongside a few other important buildings. The sixth held the military, with their training ground and barracks, camps, quartermaster, command buildings, and other structures. The fifth bowl down to the second was entirely housing and markets.

  The walls around Balator were extremely thick gray stone quarried from the very mountain they lived on. Endrance could not see how far they spanned but he was certain they encircled the entirety of the city. The individual blocks were nearly eight feet by eight feet, and mortared expertly together. If the soldiers of Balator’s people were as tough and as fearsome as Joven’s example led him to believe, Endrance figured the only people crazy enough to assault the barbarian kingdom would be other barbarians.

  Endrance and Joven rode unhindered through the first bowl of Balator, and Endrance could feel a growing sense of excitement as well as unease inside himself. He was nearing his objective, but was also feeling anxious as well. The city meant an end of their journeys, and though it was an end to their danger it also meant an end to the time it was only him and Joven travelling together.

  This was it, he realized. It was the end of the life he knew. From here on he would be staying in this foreign place far from anyone he ever knew, living with people who may very well hate him. He would be far from help, and no one to turn to if he was overwhelmed or frightened. He took a deep breath as he steadied his thoughts. This was what he agreed to do, it was his first task. These people even if they disliked him, would be depending on him. While his life was going to never be the same again, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  They approached the gates of Balator, to find them open. A great many traders from other tribes clustered around Balator’s gates, each talking and dealing with others around them. Some of the guardsmen actually posted on the wall watched the tribesmen with the practiced boredom of someone who had been on this post for many years. Nothing new to see there, excepting for the lone barbarian, with the tiny man in tow.

  There was a pair of barbarians in heavy furs and chain armor standing in the front of the gates. They each carried a three bladed ranseur as well as each had a sword buckled to their belts. They were each nearly as large as Joven, and they definitely had similar musculature. They regarded Endrance with but a cursory glance in passing, crossing their weapons before the opened gate. Joven and Endrance came to a halt as they spoke.

  “Stop,” one began. “Joven?” The man recognized Endrance’s bodyguard and seemed pleased at his comrade’s return. “You returned from your journey. Has everything gone well?” the guard asked in the common tongue, his voice thick and burly. The other guard merely nodded his head, appearing as stone faced as any statue of a barbarian.

  Joven flashed his broad smile and waved over to Endrance with a strong hand, causing him to lean back as Joven’s fingertips would have otherwise slapped him in the face. Endrance could tell that Joven was making a show of it, and so he figured that he would do his best to stay out of it until he learned more about the way barbarians spoke to each other.

  “Yes!” Joven exclaimed, leaning over and patting Endrance on the back as he talked. A faint “Oof!” slipped from Endrance’s lips as Joven continued. “I was tasked to bring the new Spengur, and so I have!”

  The two barbarians looked at Endrance with a look of surprise on their faces. The young wizard could see the barbarians weighing Joven’s words against what they saw before them. And it seemed that Endrance had fallen short as they both nearly doubled over laughing.

  “Her?” The second guardsman stammered out as he laughed. “You sure you didn’t get hit on the head and confuse this…waif with the Spengur?” he slapped his knee as he laughed loudly. The first guardsman took a moment and feigned looking over the young wizard while scratching his chin. “Is it a he or a she?” He asked curiously. “I would almost wager it was a little girl, but she would be far too scrawny and meek to be one of our children!”

  Endrance had never been so embarrassed about his looks before. Sure, he’d had people make fun of his build before. Sure, he’d even been confused for a woman on many occasions, but a little girl? Never before had he ever wished he had taken up some form of exercise. He should probably cut his hair or something. If only he could grow facial hair…

  Regardless of what Endrance thought, he could feel heat rising in his face as a blush of embarrassment rushed in. This was not the first time that a barbarian here confused him for being a girl. This only seemed to encourage the two barbarians who laughed even more.

  Joven thrust out his jaw, and Endrance could see the muscles of his neck rippling as he took a breath to speak. His voice came out low, but commanding and powerful. The bodyguard had had enough.

  “Now listen here you… two,” Joven began, the tone of his voice killing the laughter mid throat as the two guards were made to remember just who they were laughing at. “I have traveled according to the wishes of the king and our tradition’s instructions. This is the Spengur.” His voice emphasized the ‘is’ of his statement. “You will do your best to respect the Spengur, or else a punishment worse than death may be visited upon you.” He growled, kicking his heels and prodding his horse forwards. Endrance followed as they passed between the chastised sentries and into the kingdom proper. “I’ve seen this ‘girl’ you mocked so callously slay a hydra with summoned thunder and lightning. I would be wary if I were you.” He finished, his voice bore complete sincerity as he left the two behind.

  Endrance smiled privately as they passed the great gates, knowing that even in a kingdom full of such barbarians, Joven would prove an able and more than adequate guardian.

  They rode into the second bowl in peace, and Endrance got to see the things his master’s book detailed to him. He had the book out, and was paging through it as he read about things he was coming up to. A large water reservoir in honor of the first king of Balator, a brewery that only produced a mead that barbarians were renowned for, and other little details that Endrance was surprised to see matched the notes in his book. The fact that these places remained despite hundreds of years of tribal life was a testament to barbarian steadfastness.

  They reached the sloping road to the third bowl, and though there was only a modest checkpoint, Endrance could see the bowl entrances were made so they could tactically block them off, preventing easy access to the bowl above it. Essentially an attacker would need to besiege the city seven times in order to capture the castle at the top.

  At the checkpoint, Joven pulled a young man on watch over, leaning in his saddle and whispering something in his ear. The man’s expression went from one of interest to one of surprise and anxiety. As soon as Joven straightened out in the saddle
the young man was off, running up the road towards the far side of the bowl. Joven looked at his charge and winked.

  “Sending a runner to let the king know you’re here.” He flashed a toothy grin. “Gives him time to get ready to receive us, you know?”

  As he rode along at a gentle pace led by Joven’s horse, he watched the people of the city he would be working out of, the country he would be working for. He thought that though their ways may be foreign and simple to him, he knew that he would not let his master down. He had much he had to learn, and he would devour that knowledge and excel just like he used to.

  Chapter 25

  The young mage was received at the entrance to the sixth bowl by a large cadre of men. The barbarians were dressed in fine steel breastplates detailed in black iron filigree. They wore steel longswords at their belts and steel shields on their arms which bore the seal of a wolf emblazoned in black iron across the surface. Their gear was of top quality, and they carried themselves with the discipline any military would be proud to display. Ten of them were spread out across the road, their weapons sheathed but their demeanor severe. Their posture was not aggressive, and Joven raised his hand in greeting.

  “Hail, brothers!” Joven called, dismounting from his horse. The men clamped their free hands to their breasts, and nodded their heads to him.

  One of the soldiers, who bore a trio of long scars across his face, stepped forwards. “Joven, we were instructed by the king to take you two to meet him.” He said, his voice sounding like it too had been slashed by a wild animal. He glanced at the young mage and scoffed. “Sorry,” he said, “One and a half.”

  Joven laughed and patted Endrance on the shoulder, nearly bouncing him off the horse he stood by. “Don’t let this one’s size fool you. His magic is mighty.”

  The cluster of soldiers collectively spat upon the ground. “All the more reason to not like him.” The leader said. “That magic’s deceptive.”

  Joven frowned. “And never will you meet a more pure hearted user of it. Let’s be on our way, I’m sure there’s much for the new Spengur to see before the feast tonight.”

  The leader nodded “And we need time to prepare the sacrifices.” He waved a hand, and the other armored men fell into a loose circle around them. “Come,” the scarred man said, “Let us show you the true heart of our kingdom.”

  The group of soldiers led Endrance and Joven through the sixth bowl. Endrance was amazed to see the size of the military that the barbarians trained and kept working there. Everywhere he looked, he saw men and women exercising, sparring with each other, being instructed in all manner of combat arts, and even forging their own weapons and armor.

  “How big is the military here in Balator?” Endrance asked. “There seems to be half the people in the city here.”

  The leader laughed, exchanging a look with some of his comrades. “That’s cause the other half is off duty!” he exclaimed; a frightful smile across his face. “Everyone in Balator serves in the military. At least for six years.” He shrugged. “Many stay for longer.”

  Endrance had never seen so much martial prowess in his life. There were soldiers practicing with weapons he didn’t know the names of, men and women suiting up to go on patrols or perhaps even to battle, and commanders shouting out orders that echoed across the entire bowl.

  They were nearing the exit when he saw something that was even more unusual. One building was separated from the others, and had its own training ring just outside of it. That on its own was not unusual, but the ring holding several young women in white fur armors was. As he watched, the women on the outside of the ring encircled two of their number as they squared off in the center.

  “Who are they?” he asked, pointing at the women.

  Joven nudged him with an elbow. “They’re the Ergkinoa.” He commented as he watched the match begin as well. “Looks like they’re having a match.”

  The two women wore white fox fur armor, soft hide boots, and a scabbard for a dagger tied to their left arm where they could draw it quickly if needed. That was all they wore, even in the numbing mountain cold. They squared off on a circle of packed dirt and sand, and the others watched with somber expressions. One of the women carried a heavy blade, a slightly curved chopping blade with a flattened point on the end. The other twirled a pair of short swords as she prepared to fight.

  “What’s happening?” the young mage asked.

  “The lead soldier shrugged. “They’re determining who get’s sacrificed to you tonight, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Endrance asked. “Why are they fighting then?”

  The leader let out a sigh. “Because we have to sacrifice our most capable Ergkinoa, so they can protect you in case someone tries to assassinate you.” He seemed agitated. “We used to have enough bodyguards, but now that we are down to the house of Rothel we have to chose our finest warriors among the Ergkinoa.

  Endrance was quiet for a moment as the two women leapt into action. He expected the girl with the heavy blade to be slow but was surprised at the speed she brought her weapon to bear. The heavy blade arced through the air and with casual ease batted one of the other woman’s short swords away. She darted in with her other blade while her other arm was still recoiling but the woman using the heavy blade had spun out of harm’s way, bringing her blade full circle to attack her opponent again. She twisted her wrist at the last second, swatting her opponent in the face with the flat of the blade. Endrance flinched as he heard the slap of skin against metal and the other woman flipped backwards to land in the sand, her face spraying blood.

  The Ergkinoa jumped to straddle the fallen one and pressed the edge of her sword against her target’s neck. Endrance was sure she would cut her throat right then and there but the woman on her back shouted something and the keeper stayed her blade. Standing, she shouldered her blade and walked away without looking back.

  “Ah, that one’s Bridget.” One of the soldiers said. “Looks like you got a good one. She’s a brutal warrior.” The man’s smile was broad and he elbowed the man next to him. “I’d take her on any day of the week, if you know what I mean.”

  Endrance didn’t know what he meant, but the leader responded by swatting the outspoken man on the back of his head. “Quiet you!” he barked. “You know they wouldn’t do that with you!” He scowled at the man until he turned away. “Besides, a girl like that you’d have to best in a fight ‘fore she’d lay with you.” He muttered.

  Endrance looked up at Joven, who shrugged. “Either way sounds like a good time to me.” He commented to his charge, and ushered the young man on as the group started moving through the passage to the seventh bowl. “Ergkinoa aren’t as well trained as me, and they have almost no experience outside Balator, but they need to be able to fight too.”

  “But I thought you were supposed to be my bodyguard.” Endrance stated, sounding more like a question.

  Joven nodded. “True, but there are places they can go that I cannot.” He looked down at the young mage. “Didn’t your book tell you anything about that?”

  Endrance shook his head. “Just that they are given up to me.”

  Joven grinned. “Well, that’s going to be fun.” He said. He seemed amused by something, but as usual Endrance could get nothing from the barbarian’s toothy grin.

  The road up to the seventh bowl revealed a neat and orderly arrangement of stone buildings, several of which had arching rooftops and symbols of different religions upon them in many manners of colors and methods. The primary religions almost dominated the western side of the bowl, with grand buildings and many people who come and went through them daily. The less popular religions had barely small huts and Endrance could even see a few had meager shrines that seemed stuffed into out of the way places.

  The altitude was high up enough that a blanket of snow covered everything, and gave the place a much more serene appearance than would be expected of a kingdom of barbarians. At many places down the main road were stone and steel st
ructures where a large fire burned, providing light and heat along the roadside. The snow had been trampled and melted in many places down the main road, and he could see much of the refuse the people here made was burned at the fires.

  “There is one place here you will want to keep note of.” The lead soldier gruffly instructed the young mage. “That is the longhouse you will be living in.” he pointed to the eastern side of the bowl, which had a small, unused road that led through otherwise unoccupied land to a building in the far off distance. “Why you have a wooden house where everyone knows stone is better is beyond me.” He grunted as he pointed to the open terrain between the main road and the longhouse, “Nobody in their right mind built anything within several hundred feet of the longhouse.”

  “Why is that?” Endrance asked.

  “You use magic.” He said, like that was all the explanation he needed. “Why would we want to live near you?”

  “Yeah.” Endrance remarked, looking at the marked distance that the barbarian people had gone through to avoid people with magical talent. “Makes me feel very welcome, it does.”

  The lead soldier shrugged.

  The group climbed the much steeper incline to the eighth and final bowl of the city. The castle loomed up over their heads as they approached. Endrance could see through the snow that the castle appeared at first as a standing structure, but was mostly carved out of the mountain its back was to. Roughly pentagonal, three of the walls were nestled into the mountainside, while the remaining two came together in the front, their crux meeting at the front gates. There several more soldiers in steel and black iron armor waited for them.

  The personal escort broke off at the gate, leaving only Endrance and Joven at the gate. There waiting for them was a man who must have stood seven feet tall. His massive frame dwarfed the young mage and even made Joven seem average. The man had pale skin like his bodyguard, with pale blonde hair that hung to his jaw. He had intelligent blue eyes that reminded Endrance of Joven, whose face had lightened up when he saw the man before him. The man wore armor of hardened leather with steel breastplate, pauldrons, hip guards, vambraces and shin guards. Black iron filigree gave his armor the appearance of being a man of great importance, and his weapons of steel and black iron added lethal weight to his presence. A two-handed greatsword hung at his back, and a longsword hung at his hip.

 

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