"How did you know we were coming?" asked Greyrawk.
"The view from the summit commands a wide area. I recognized you as you approached."
"And you prepared a meal? I am impressed," said Greyrawk.
"The meal was in progress before I saw you," said Ioane Adan. "We Celaeri do not have that kind of magic."
Brandalay followed Ioane and Greyrawk looked back down the trail but the mist had rolled up and he could see nothing.
Chapter 6
For Men the allure of wealth has proved treacherous. The merchant class is strong and the nobles support the larger merchant houses and receive a share of the profits. No other race covets wealth or expects to receive more than they invested in a project, relationship or other kind of interaction. It is widely spoken that the main difference in Men from other races is their shorter lifespan, but that is not what creates the gulf between the races. The Altengud Javon may have created Men, but it is profit that is their true god.
From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.
Andara, the jewel of Cresida, hugged the southernmost tip of Amloth across the Teramon Straits from Anavar. A rich trading port and the capital of King Alec Haldane's kingdom, it thrived for the 35 years of the king's reign. Andara was one of the largest cities on Landermass and its order was kept by the largest military force save the army of Calendia on southwestern Anavar. The city was clean and its slums and criminals kept to an area called the Daarke on the southeast side of Andara. The thieves of Daarke ventured out only at the behest of a patron of Andara proper, never looting for themselves, rather for a percentage or fee of the take. King Haldane's minister of law, Waric Faerir, kept a strict vigil on his king's behalf and the system worked for many years.
Andara ran smoother than most cities it's size and the population were industrious and content; there were no rebellions simmering in the alleyways. King Haldane's worries were not for his city and its commerce. Southern Cresida was a paradise in relative terms of course. Northern Cresida was another matter altogether. Dacu Belderag was a powerful man with an overstated value of his self-worth. To King Haldane, he was no better skilled as a lord than any other noble of Cresida. But Belderag believed the north would have fallen into decay if not for his vigilance and Haldane did not agree. Belderag even started a war with the Greyrawk clan, a far older lineage than Belderag's family, and an old power in the north. Claiming the Greyrawk's were tainted by the influence of the Celaeri, a vanished race, Belderag defeated the Greyrawk's and tore down their castle. It was rumored that Belderag's elite fighting force, the Red Hawks, executed any Greyrawk that survived. It had been years since Belderag had troubled the king's repose, but times change.
As usual, after his breakfast, King Alec Haldane stood on his balcony of his palace with a view of the city below. His gaze was often drawn by the bursts of activity in the marketplace. Oh, how he missed strolling through the market alone as he oft did when a boy-until his father found out and put a stop to solitary roaming. It was not proper that a prince walk among common folk. He listened to the cries of the merchants offering their wares and the smell of the various foods would waft upward to his perch and he smiled contently. The palace was a wide building with many windows and balconies open to the southern sea view. The other sides of the palace were fortified; King Haldane was not ignorant to the perils of his world. Still, the broad balcony gave him the illusion of openness to his people.
He heard the sound of boots slapping the tile floor and did not turn around.
"Good morning, Beric."
"Good morning, your Highness," said Beric Mallon, Warlord of Cresida. A slender man with wiry strength and a shock of white hair, Beric had been at Haldane's side for over twenty years. A practical man with little use for the intrigues of court, he held tight to his station with brutal efficiency. In short, he was just what Haldane needed for external business; a mirror of Waric Faerir for internal business. It was perfect and Haldane enjoyed life these past few years better than any other of his 62 years. He turned to face his guest.
"Speak Beric. Tell me what's on your mind."
"Belderag."
"Ah, what has our good friend Dacu done now?"
"I do not trust him."
"Beric, I do not trust him either. I already knew you didn't trust him. Is there some point to all this?"
"Your Highness is having a joke at my expense."
"If you had learned to smile before your face was scarred, perhaps you would have a frozen smile on your face instead of that frown and I wouldn't have to try humor to see if you are alive."
"Does my service displease you?" He stood at attention, his eyes forward.
Haldane shook his head and sighed.
"Go on with your report. What is Belderag doing?"
"Nothing yet, but my sources tell me a Greyrawk passed through Andara heading north."
"A Greyrawk? I thought Belderag killed them all."
"This one was a child when his mother fled to Anavar. My agents have long kept an eye on him. He is a mercenary and an excellent swordsman, but we do not know why he has returned. His memories of Greyrawk Mountain would be minimal. However, those who oppose Belderag would welcome him as a savior and figurehead in their conflict. Greyrawk's arrival will cause more bloodshed."
"I suspect you are correct. Do you have agents in Gornst?"
"Of course, your Highness. I have already alerted them to be vigilant."
"Good. I thought Aryar Greyrawk would have killed Belderag. I still don't know how Belderag won."
"Treachery, your Highness. Greyrawk must have been betrayed."
Haldane turned back to the balcony. Beric recognized the tension in his king's shoulders. Haldane was still a powerful man although his knees ached if he stood too long.
"Did you have anything in mind?"
"Yes, your Highness. I propose to prepare the army to head north to stop any battles and to police the situation. There are other vague rumors that are unsettling."
"You mean Celaeri? I admit the situation is troubling. I want to speak with Waric before making a decision."
"Yes, sire. I sent word for him to join us."
"I see." Haldane clapped his hands and a servant appeared. "Send for the Prince and Princess."
"The Princess?"
"I know your feelings on women, Beric. Linna is far smarter than I am and I desire her counsel. Do you deign to instruct your king?"
"No sire. It won't happen again."
"My memory does not fail me yet; you said that before. My patience is not limitless."
"Do you underestimate yourself, my king," said Waric Faerir, entering the room. "Your infinite patience has put up with Beric for many years."
"I do my duty!" said Beric. "My duty to the king is clear and I have no doubts about my value to the king. I am not concerned with other diversions. I do not look for my own profit."
"That's the truth."
"Waric, mind your tongue," said the King. "My patience for your squabbles is nil."
Both men looked away and bit their tongues. Haldane's tone had gone cold and they knew he was past endurance with them. He is all business now. Prince Byron entered the room and nodded to his father. The Prince is a broad humorless man in his late-thirties, impatient to inherit his father's throne. He bided his time building his own treasury and businesses both in Cresida and Masina. Princess Linna came in soon after and kissed her father. She is nearly two decades younger than her brother and very adept at reading people thus invaluable to her father as she is often underestimated because of her age and sex. Haldane sat on his favorite chair, carved dragon armrests and velvet cushions on seat and back.
"We have a potential issue in the north. Belderag may wage war again with Greyrawk sympathizers."
"Greyrawk? Are they not all dead?" asked Prince Byron.
"Unfortunately, no," said Haldane. "One has returned and has the potential to fan the flames of Belderag's delusions. I hoped Belderag would lose the last war and I w
as disappointed. Now he has strengthened his hold in the north and he is ambitious enough to spread his influence if left unchecked. I do not want our commerce disrupted. The Turuck war left Masina and Eslenda in a shambles and they are just now regaining their old commerce. The Daerlan are still secluded and very little trading is allowed. However, there are positive signs in that direction. The commerce of Andara will not be adversely affected by any conflict in the north. Beric proposes to send the army to Gornst to suppress potential battles. He has agents in Gornst."
"As do I," said Waric Faerir. "I would propose sending a representative from Daarke to put an end to Belderag. Beric's troops would be there for an orderly management change."
"Who would take control of Gornst?" asked Prince Byron. "Nunderburg? Or do you have another of your toadies in mind?"
Waric ignored the prince and addressed the king.
"Sire, I do not have a candidate in mind. Perhaps the Prince would be the logical choice?"
"Why not the Princess?" asked Prince Byron, who was reluctant to leave his business arrangements to another.
"She is not a leader," said Beric.
"I have spoken to you already," snapped Haldane. "I may put Linna in charge of your army."
"Sire!" Beric's face was white. Waric discreetly coughed behind his hand. Prince Byron smiled.
"May I add my opinion?" said Princess Linna. "I want to hear who Waric wants to send from Daarke. I agree that Byron is the best choice, but I will go if needed."
"Your highness, you are not a warrior," said Beric.
"Agreed, but my skills are useful after the battles, Warlord. Certainly you would not allow a defenseless woman in harm's way?"
"You will never be able to outwit her," said Prince Byron. "Just win on the field and let Linna take care of running the city. Well, father, do you need me here any longer? I have appointments to keep. There is a new shipment of silk I need to inspect."
Haldane looked at his son and waved him away. The prince quickly left the room. Haldane remained silent for several minutes.
"Well, Waric, who are the people from Daarke?"
"I took the liberty of bringing them to the palace. May I bring them in?"
"Proceed."
Two figures entered the room. One kept his gaze forward while the other's eyes darted around the room, absorbing everything. They bowed before the king. The taller one with the steady gaze is long of limb with the nerves of an assassin. The other one's face was partially hidden by a black scarf.
"Sire, this is Arlent and Tolle," said Waric. "They are from Daarke and have proved their worth to me many times over."
"Welcome," said Haldane. "Why does Tolle over his face in my presence?"
"He was disfigured in a fire," said Waric.
"How can he operate without being singled out? I thought the key to his line of work was anonymity."
"Tolle prowls at night, your highness," said Arlent. "No one ever sees him."
"Hm. Very well. I am entrusting to you a mission, the details of which Waric will explain to you. It is important that you do not fail, nor are you marked. There must be nothing that ties your actions to me. Is that clear?"
Arlent and Tolle nodded.
"Success will bring you great rewards and an exclusive contract for your services."
"Thank you, your highness," said Arlent.
"You are excused."
They bowed and departed.
"They are your best?" asked Haldane.
"Yes, sire."
"I will have some special instructions for you by the morrow, Waric. Beric, ready your troops to depart in one week. Our Daarke friends will leave tomorrow night. Now leave us, I wish to speak with the Princess alone."
Waric Faerir and Beric Mallon bowed and left. Before they were out of sight their voices could be heard rising as they resumed their squabbles.
King Haldane turned to his daughter.
"It would be too dangerous for you to go to Gornst."
"You are sweet to say so, Father," said Princess Linna. "But you will need my eyes on the scene. Who better understands your commands? Vanquishing Belderag opens the door for another strongman. Beric Mallon would not be a good choice to safeguard Gornst. He has many enemies here who could not reach him in Gornst, and he would have the army with him. It would be tempting for any man to set himself up as ruler. Who would check his ambition? It would be best for Byron to take control of Gornst for Beric does not respect me and will undermine all I do. If you look closely you will see that Beric will have to follow Belderag's fate in short order to prevent a new despot."
Haldane smiled and shook his head.
"I am always surprised by your cold blooded reasoning. You are but twenty-two years old and see straight to the heart of the matter. Yes, I will need to send someone to take the city; someone to command the special squad that is mixed with Beric's troops. They will not be loyal to him and will support my agent. Tolford Eaars is the commander."
"How long have they been concealed in the army?"
"Nearly a year. Beric has no idea. Neither does Waric for that matter."
"They will not be pleased to be so distrusted. I believe you are sending the right message to them."
"I think so to. I have ordered some items for you for your journey. You will find them in your quarters. When you are ready come back and speak with me again. I have several messages I want you to deliver to certain people in Gornst. Let us have dinner together tonight."
Arlent had returned from the stables where he had inspected the horses Waric Faerir gave to them for this journey. Arlent was pleased; the horses were excellent and would fetch them impressive coin if they sold them. There had to be some way they could arrange that without Waric finding out. Arlent's coin purse was full that was true but the King's promises were so much hot air. They would get nothing more unless they were successful and that was not a sure thing. The whole business did not have the flavor of a job he would have chosen for himself; but he could not refuse it. Waric would find others to do his work and there were few patrons with as much work as Waric.
If they did survive and succeed, well then the King would be a patron. Although Arlent did not know who the King normally hired, the fees would line their coffers for many a year. Arlent dreamed of a villa on the east coast of Cresida, or at least a fine house, where he could sit in the sun and listen to the roar of the ocean. The Daarke had lost its appeal and even Andara proper no longer called to him. To do this job right and survive would bring the potential for him to reach that dream. He no longer wanted to rule the Daarke with all the money and women at his disposal. He was tired and wished to take life slower; to watch the clouds float across the sky and sit in the sun away from the aroma of the Daarke. He had lived all of his thirty years in the Daarke and kept to himself, a loner among lonely people. Arlent stood taller than most Men but he was wiry thin. His strength was often underestimated to his advantage.
Tolle wasn't really his partner, they just worked together a number of times; their skills proved complimentary. Waric Faerir always hired them together so trust built up between them over the years. Still, Arlent could not afford to totally trust anyone. He whirled with his knife in his hand, but it was only Tolle, carrying packs. He dropped them on the floor.
"A little jumpy," Tolle's voice rasped. "One would think you are new to this game."
"I have stayed alive because of my reflexes."
"Yes, yes." Tolle took packs from the figure following him and added them to the pile.
"Who is that?" asked Arlent.
"Lenak, my servant. He is coming with us."
"A boy? You would bring a boy on this commission?"
"I have trained Lenak in several disciplines. He is farther along than a mere apprentice. As you stay, this is an important commission and I require his services." Tolle's voice faded and he coughed behind his scarf. Arlent saw the pain in Tolle's eyes and wondered if his companion was dying at last. He shouldn't have lived this long.
Perhaps Lenak was a bastard child and Tolle needed to pass on his legacy. Arlent snorted, he didn't need to pass anything on. After he was dead he wouldn't care what happened to his belongings or what people said about it. It was a weakness and Arlent began to wonder if Tolle had too many weaknesses.
"I am ready," croaked Tolle.
"Good, let us leave this place. The horses are ready, but we will need a third one for your servant."
"It has been ordered by Waric Faerir. I have his authorization."
"Good let's go." Arlent picked up some of the packs and headed to the stables without looking back. Tolle took some packs and followed. The heaviest packs were left and Lenak groaned as he struggled under their weight.
The trio rode through the gate heading north. Waric Faerir stood upon the wall and watched them vanish in the distance. He noticed a familiar silhouette further down the wall, also watching the riders. It was Prince Byron. The Prince turned to Waric and nodded his head, then fell back into the shadows. Waric stood on the wall alone in his thoughts.
Chapter 7
Jerue Adan, king of the Celaeri was the father of two children, Ioane and Gaele, born on Adan's Hill in the days before Men came. His wife, Deire, had lost her life, struck down by a band of mercenaries passing through the area. Jerue Adan took his vengeance on the mercenaries harshly. He kept his daughters safe until Men came to Amloth. Gaele fell in love with a Man and spent much of her time away from Adan's Hill. The true details have never surfaced but Gaele was killed in a fight between her lover and other Men. Jerue Adan's rage against Men took root that day and colored all his decisions thereafter.
From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.
Brandalay glanced at the Celaeri woman as he ate the food before him. He could not keep his attention to his task. Every other heartbeat brought his gaze back to her. It seemed an involuntary glance and Greyrawk noticed but did not speak of it. Greyrawk felt the same way when he first met Ioane Adan. Her beauty was not of this world and she seemed to shimmer before them. It wasn't that her features were that much different from Men features but somehow they fit together in a way that took Greyrawk's breath away. His pulse quickened and his breath shortened. She did not acknowledge the silence of their company, merely ate her fruit much the way Men did and wiped her fingers on her trousers the way Brandalay did although she didn't get as much juice on her fingers to wipe off. Still, her presence stifled their tongues and occasionally Greyrawk caught Brandalay's eye, but the older man looked away.
Greyrawk (Book 2) Page 7