The Titan's Tome (The Mortal Balance Book 1)

by M. B. Schroeder

  “They don’t,” Madger said.

  Morkleb waited for her to say something else, but the silence stretched into an uncomfortable tension, and he looked away from her. Neither Seal nor Kharick saved him from whatever he had blundered into this time.

  That night Madger had one of her vivid dreams, waking the other three. Morkleb sat up and gaped in the soft light of the glowing coals of their fire as she curled and spasmed, retching. He left his bedding to help her, not understanding why Seal and Kharick weren’t trying to wake her from the dream.

  “No, Kern!”

  Kharick grabbed hold of him before he could get close. “No, lad. Let her come out of it on her own. None of us are strong enough to block a blow if she swings. She’ll be more upset with you if you get close enough to be hit.”

  Morkleb looked from the dwarf to Seal, but they were resolute in waiting out the dream. Madger lifted her hands wildly and then she woke with a coughing fit. Kharick released his arm, after she sat up and spat to the side of her bedding, Morkleb approached.

  “Are you all right? Do you want me to check the ulcer?” He reached out to her shoulder, and she flinched away from his touch.

  “Leave me alone.”

  Morkleb swallowed. “Do you want to talk about it?” The people at the brothels he’d tended to had liked to confide in him.

  Madger turned a glaring look to him. “No, go back to your bed.”

  Morkleb glanced back and saw Seal and Kharick watching him, the two seemed accustomed to her desire to be left alone. They didn’t look surprised that he’d been rebuffed. If her two traveling companions didn’t offer to help, she likely wouldn’t have accepted his either.

  Master Len had sent him off into the world alone, telling Morkleb that he needed to learn to let people be close to him again. He doubted the three he was with would be good candidates, they rarely spoke with him.

  The next day they saw a road on a levy in the swamp. They had to swing wide around to the north, then southwest to skirt the edge of the mire. The road started at the western edge and disappeared in the snarl of trees of the marsh.

  “They cobbled the road all the way out here?” Morkleb asked incredulously.

  “Hmm. Magic,” Madger answered.

  It took another full day of travel on the cobbled road before they saw the town built upon a stone levy in the dank, forested wetland. The walls around it were easily thirty feet tall, with parapets manned by archers who walked behind them. Arrow slits darkened the otherwise smooth gray stonework of the gate towers. The lower edge of an iron portcullis could be seen from where it was raised into the top of the wall. The thick wooden doors were strapped with heavy iron and were swung wide open. The swamp made a natural defense around the city, offering no other way to enter, although there were several more towers spaced evenly along the wall.

  Madger had sensed the warding along the road that was well masked against a mage of lesser power. It was a simple spell, just an alert for when someone came near the city. She imagined DraKar had to be the one behind the careful weaving and made sure not to touch it too heavily with her own magic.

  The four guards at the gate wore simple, sturdy armor, with an evenly divided blue and black surcoat. Each had a sheathed short sword and a spear in hand. Two were dark elves, a male and female, and watched the approaching group with mild interest. Another was a one-eyed human with a scar that left a line of pale flesh in his dark beard, and the last was a red sarpand who was as tall as Madger.

  Morkleb glanced nervously to the three mercenaries he’d hired. What was he thinking, going to a town of darklings and sarpand? He itched to demand they leave, but they weren’t slowing their approach.

  The female dark elf’s aura of power was notable, but meager compared to Madger’s. She did not fully test the dark elf’s capability, not wanting to insult her, but she could feel the same cursory exploration of her own magic from the elf. The two could have been dogs warily sniffing each other from five feet away.

  “I’ve come to speak with Armagon and DraKar,” Madger said as she stopped in front of the guards.

  “We received word that you’ll have lodging at the Whistling Pig,” the woman said. “On the main road, right side.”

  The guards stepped aside to allow the group entrance.

  Madger hesitated for a moment, and her companions shifted nervously behind her. It seemed she had underestimated the warding on the road. She could only guess that DraKar saw, and knew, exactly who was traveling on the road. It was just lucky they appeared to be welcome.

  The gateway passage was fifteen feet tall, and the depth of the wall was an impressive twenty feet of solid stone. It left enough space between the inner and outer gates to trap people, and murder holes dotted the interior of the barbican. Beyond the gate, the city opened. Concentric circular roads bisected the main thoroughfare that led straight to an interior citadel deep within the large city.

  “Big walls for a city in the middle of a swamp,” Kharick said once they were a distance from the gate.

  Madger watched several darklings walk past them. “Considering the people living here, I could understand a vengeful country trying to root out some of the raiders.”

  Morkleb edged closer to the three and his dark, gray eyes darted over the citizens of Meerwood. Many of the species present would have been rare in any other civilized area, but here were a majority. The various darkling races handled their business in the same manner common folk did in other cities. Here, sarpand of various colors laughed together with dark elves, their wings shaking with mirth. His perception of the races didn’t mesh with what he was seeing.

  The Whistling Pig was a stout building, constructed of the same stone as the city walls. A wood carving, painted with garish colors, depicted a pig dancing on his hind legs, merrily whistling with birds flittering around him. Morkleb didn’t imagine many pigs whistled on their way to the roasting spit.

  The inn was crafted to accommodate the larger races, so Madger didn’t need to duck or worry about hitting her head as they entered. A portly human woman, with curly blonde hair, sat on a stool behind the bar, a pipe clenched in her teeth at the corner of her mouth.

  “Oi, there you are!” she called and pointed at the four of them with the stem of her pipe. “Come ‘ere, I ‘ave rooms for the lot of you.”

  The group looked at each other curiously but approached the woman.

  “‘ere, the masters asked I take care of you lot. You stay as long as you like. Everything is taken care of. Anything you need just ask, ‘ear?” She turned and shouted back to the kitchen, “Oi, Floran, come get this lot to their rooms!”

  A waifish, dark-skinned girl hurried out from the kitchen and flashed a bright grin. “Oh a giant!”

  “Girl,” the thick woman growled in warning. “Forgive ‘er, miss, she don’t think before she speak.”

  Madger’s face twisted into a bitter expression and she turned away. The girl reminded her of Jula. Reminded her of her cousin and her disembodied arm. Her throat went tight and she had to swallow to work the knot loose.

  They followed Floran up the wooden stairs, her tight brown curls bouncing jovially as she skipped ahead. “These rooms are yours,” she said, opening four different doors.

  “Thank you,” Morkleb said with an answering grin. “Is there a bath house?”

  “Behind the kitchens. We only have two tubs, but no one is using either right now.”

  “One for me?” Madger asked.

  “Oh yes miss! One is large for folks like you.”

  “We’ll take our baths and then a meal,” Madger said.

  “Yes miss,” Floran answered and hurried away. She paused before the stairs. “I’ll have the water ready for you soon.”

  “A warm bath,” Morkleb sighed. “I’d forgotten what it was like without one.”

  “The brothers seem to want us comfortable,” Seal said with a sneer.

  Morkleb couldn’t help but laugh at Seal. “You’re objecting to
this?” He waved his arms to mean the whole inn. “I thought this place would be a mud hole.”

  “I’m objecting to them wanting us comfortable,” Seal said. “To put us at ease.”

  “Aye.” Kharick glared at the open door of his room, a freshly made bed beckoning inside. “Lotsa stone for a swamp town.”

  Madger chuckled and shook her head. When Kharick gave her a questioning look, she waggled her fingers. “Magic.”

  “Lotsa magic for lotsa stone,” he grumped, but went into his room.

  They settled their belongings in their rooms as the sun set. After the dirt of travel had been washed away, the group mingled together in the tavern. Oil lamps were lit along the hallway, and candles glowed at each table in the tavern. Customers straggled in and settled at the tables and bar, the orders and talk created a drone of noise that resonated against the stone walls.

  Large plates of food were lavished on the group, with piles of fresh fruits, gravy coating lean cuts of meat, and soft brown bread with melted butter. A drink was brought for them, the blonde woman called it Dark Water, and Kharick relished it, but Madger and Morkleb declined. Madger took tea and Morkleb had wine. Seal drank the ale and gagged on the strong taste, but tipped the mug back again, a taste of home.

  “Was word sent when I should go see Armagon and DraKar?” Madger asked as the innkeeper cleared their plates.

  “No, miss, the masters didn’t send word about that.”

  “I have questions,” Kharick said and slid out a chair for the woman. “Have a sit.”

  The woman looked from the dwarf to the chair and to her customers. She looked back to Kharick; the stern look partially hidden by his beard and eyebrows. “Oi, all right. Floran! Mind the tables!”

  The girl bustled out of the kitchen and set to the task.

  “What questions, mister?”

  Morkleb interrupted before Kharick could be any brusquer. “What’s your name?”

  “Wilda.”

  Kharick cleared his throat, his brows raised slightly from Morkleb reminding him of his manners. “Pardon, Wilda. Tell me of this city.”

  Wilda’s wide face brightened, and she leaned closer. “Well, the masters rebuilt after it was destroyed.”

  Morkleb rocked back. “Destroyed? With these walls and being in a swamp?”

  “I wasn’t ‘ere, mister, but word is demons were angry at the masters and razed it. Killed everyone. The masters weren’t ‘ere to defend it. So when they rebuilt, they made stronger walls and ‘ired more guards. These buildings,” she gestured at her own inn, “they made too. People can buy ‘em from the masters, but I lease this place.”

  “Hmm.” Madger scratched at the table thoughtfully, removing a splinter. “And what do people do here to make a living?”

  “Oh, you know most of ‘em ‘ide ‘ere when they’re in trouble. The rumors are true. But a lot work for the masters, guarding and keeping the city in good repair. Some of ‘em work with the masters, servants and such.”

  Seal frowned. “Have you seen, ‘the masters’?”

  “Oh yes, miss. Sometimes they like to come and ‘ave some of my cooking and talk to the folks ‘ere. Even Floran seen ‘em.” She looked over her shoulder and called to the girl, “Oi, Floran! Come ‘ere and show the people what the masters gave you.”

  Floran skipped to their table, her dark cheeks flushed from hurrying around. She pulled a necklace out from under her dress and stained apron and held it out for them.

  Madger’s brow drew down; the necklace held the same rigid signature as the ward on the road and was masked even more thoroughly. The true spell was hidden within an illusion that would make most mages believe it was mundane. The necklace was a pairing of black and blue stones within a circle of silver, resembling the surcoats of the guards.

  “Very pretty,” Morkleb said. He brushed at the girl’s cheek and smiled serenely at her. If only Jarah had lived…

  Madger nodded, and added, “Very special. I would never take it off.” She didn’t mention that the underlying spell would shield the girl. It was a complex weaving and beyond her skill to enchant something similar, but she could understand the patterning of the magic imbued in it. Had DraKar given it to the girl in case the city was ever attacked again? Why would he put so much work into protecting one little girl?

  Wilda shooed Floran away. “Go on now.” Once the girl was busy at a table with an icren and a sarpand, she turned back to the four at the table with her. “Master Armagon brought that sprite to me two years ago. Said he found her.” She sniffed and pulled her tobacco pouch from beneath the neckline of her simple dress. After taking a moment to stuff her pipe and light it, she continued, “Floran don’t remember much, but she said she’d been on a ship. Said she remembers the ship breaking up and a piece of the night dropping out of the sky and it plucked her from the ocean.”

  Seal grunted and crossed her arms. “Seems the masters are charitable souls.”

  Wilda didn’t sense Seal’s animosity. “Oh yes, miss.”

  “Thank ya, lass,” Kharick said and slid a copper to her.

  “Oh no need, mister. The masters made sure I wouldn’t be needing any coin from you.”

  Kharick tucked the coin away as they watched the heavy hips of Wilda sway as she left. “It do no mesh. The stories and what is here.”

  Seal grumbled under her breath, “They know not to show what they really are.”

  Morkleb frowned at the two of them. “They sound pleasant enough.”

  “Exactly,” Seal answered and left the table.

  Madger sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Perhaps she should have come alone.

  Chapter 22

  315-316 Br.

  “It is said the last Age, The Sands, was started when the southern continent was changed to a desert. Folly! It was when hourglasses were invented. The ability to track time by the fall of the sands was a great advance for all the peoples of the world.”

  -Councilor Braxen, Member of the Ruling Council of Fenex

  T he next day, after their morning meal, the group left the inn and headed for the citadel in the center of town. Morkleb went with them, just to see the town and get a better feel for where he might be staying. The solid stone structure was ringed with another wall, much like the one surrounding the city itself. The guards stationed at the gate, let the four pass with little more than a suggestion to go to the front door of the squat building. The gardens outside were expansive and looked like they could easily get lost if the four didn’t keep to the main path.

  Another pair of guards was stationed at the doors, and they immediately opened the bronze encased doors for them. There was only a wide hallway for them to go down once inside. Madger felt the magic that radiated from the building, from layers of spells, and she had little doubt that DraKar knew exactly where they were.

  There was no evidence of rooms or branches of halls. The white glow from a spell enchanted in the arched ceiling brightened the windowless passage. Green stone columns were the only decoration against the plain gray stone walls, and polished black marble with white veining made up the floor.

  Their footsteps echoed as they walked the length of the hall, and none of them dared speak in the reverberating chamber. At the end, a double wooden door was set into the heavy stonework. Before Madger could move to knock, it opened silently, and an elf stepped out to meet them.

  The brown haired elf had a regal bearing, as though she was royalty and this was her castle. A floorlength dress hugged her slim form, and the elegant pale material accentuated her hips and breasts. The cut left her pale arms bare, but fit snuggly around her neck with a high collar. Her dark eyes took in the four that stood outside the doorway with a calm regard.

  “Welcome,” she offered in a soothing voice. “I am Loya.” With a casual certainty, she stepped to the left wall and placed her hand on the closest column. The wall split open without a sound, the stone separating to reveal a room within. She gestured for all of them to enter. �
�Please.”

  The room was decorated with colorful tapestries, comfortable couches and chairs lined the walls, and a table in the middle was laden with a variety of foods. It wasn’t a large room, only meant to be a comfortable waiting area.

  “The rest of you may stay here while I take the lady to see the lords. If there is anything –“

  “Stay here?” Seal demanded, rounding on the woman. “Leave Madger alone with those …” she stammered, seeking a strong enough insult.

  If Loya was upset by Seal’s outburst, nothing in her demeanor showed it. “Yes. Or if you like, you may leave the citadel.”

  Madger looked at the elf quizzically. “Why just me?”

  She turned to the giantess and looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “Those were my instructions.”

  Even Morkleb was becoming wary, his stomach was churning, and he wasn’t sure if it was all the rich food or if his clerical ability to sense evil was trying to warn him. “We won’t leave you.”

  Madger gave Morkleb a sardonic look. “I’ll be fine.”

  “No harm will come to any of you,” Loya assured them. She stepped back to the opening of the hall. “If there is anything any of you need, merely knock on one of the columns. If you will follow me, my lady.”

  Madger frowned at being referred to as a lady; she wasn’t some courtesan come to call on royalty. But she would play along with the game the sarpand brothers had setup in the city.

  She followed the regal woman back out to the tall wooden door and was mildly disappointed it operated with a mundane latch. Loya shut it behind them and led Madger across a wide circular room. The dark green columns continued their even march around more bare, gray stone walls. The floor was made from a pearlescent white stone, with a circle in the middle, half blue, half black, and a beam of sunlight shone down from the glass ceiling onto the blue and black inset.

  Only a wooden table furnished the room, ornately carved, with a pair of chairs behind it. A variety of papers and books were laid out on it. Armagon and DraKar stood in front of the table.