by S. Nileson
“Of course I would be safe,” Terketeus said enthusiastically. At the mention of the question a new vigor filled his old form and suddenly it felt as if his spirit and body had grown young again.
“It’s settled then,” Balta added. “The old man will come with us to Fort Pax.” He looked at Terketeus intently and asked, “Does anyone else know your name?”
“All those who knew me here as Terketeus died long ago. Nevertheless, we should settle on a new name.” He hummed and rubbed his chin as he often did when thinking.
“How about Keteus?” Ascilla suggested, surprising the others. She had never fully gotten over the idea that he was what she had vowed to hunt down and slay, but she had grown accustomed to accepting that it was a temporary agreement and that perhaps the Ichneumon Order chose their foe indiscriminately.
“I like it,” the dragon said. “From this day forth I would like to be called Keteus.”
“It sounds Parthan, although I can never say that I heard the name uttered before,” Ascilla added. “Well, there have been many strange names flowing around lately, I see no reason why Keteus would be considered any stranger than those accepted.”
Satisfied by their companion’s new name, the travelers continued ahead to Fort Pax. When night was nigh they saw the fort in the horizon, black with the colors of Gallecia and lit by the fires of its watch. While she prepared for sleep Ascilla kept thinking of how she had grown to cherish her new friends and their companionship, even that of the dragon whom she had grown to accept as a person.
When everyone withdrew to sleep she walked away, sat by a tree and started crying.
Chapter 5: To Keep of Peace
‘A man will come to you with face changed beyond recognition. All those who tread with him must be protected till the time is nigh. Send them furthest away from danger,’ Letters of Sol: Emperor to Peacekeeper.
1
In the ancient days, far before the new large cities were built, a small fort stood strong, a bastion of power to survive the ages and keep watch over the civilizations which rose and fell. Fort Pax was built by a people long gone, before the men of the Four Kingdoms split and when life was all too familiar with the struggle of war. In time the fort crumbled away yet always someone came along to rebuild it; always adding something more. The land on which Fort Pax was built grew thick, and elevated as it always did with age, and slowly the remnants of the original fort got buried under mud and stone.
Before the Demigod Emperor Servak came to power the fort was the hidden capital of the few brave men and women who fought against the Gallecian Council, The Resistance. It was there that Servak first learned what it meant to fight for a cause, and it was there that he sought shelter when he was being hunted by the former Peacekeepers serving the Council.
When the Demigod Emperor Servak came to power he gave the rubble that was known as Fort Pax to the reformed Peacekeeper Core as a gesture of the cooperation to come. The new Peacekeepers, under the leadership of Duke Constantine, turned the ancient fort into a powerful center for their operation. The mountain beneath it was dug and carved and the many older levels uncovered and once again populated. Atop the mountain, where a small fragment of the last fort remained, the Peacekeepers built mighty walls which stood tall and gave them a clear view of the surrounding lands. The new fort had become widely known across the lands as the most impressively defended area, setting a standard to all new cities and forts. Only through flight or subterfuge could Fort Pax fall, or by an impossibly large force armed with countless siege weapons and superior steel than that of its defendants.
From a distance the travelers spotted Fort Pax and felt a surge of excitement that slowly withered away once they realized what their arrival meant; separation. Ascilla was most influenced, for during their union she had once more grown accustomed to company and forgot the solitude plaguing those of her profession. They took their last steps in silence, lamenting the separation to come.
Once they reached the guarded gate by the root of the mountain, Ascilla approached the two vigilant black leather-clad guards who readied themselves by lowering their spears. With a harsh and dry tone one of the guards said, “Identify yourselves and state your purpose.”
“I am Ascilla of the Ichneumon Order and my purpose is to bring these folk to Commander Chordus Cestus.” She produced a sealed envelope from her belt and handed it over to the guard who spoke.
The guard examined the blue seal of the imperial eye, the colors and sigil of the Ichneumon Order, and opened it when satisfied by its legitimacy.
As the guard read the contents of the letter in silence Balta leaned towards Archer and asked, “Didn’t you notice how common it is for those city folk to be dressed in black armor?”
Archer shrugged and remained silent, only briefly glancing at Balta before his attention returned to the guards.
“Everything seems to be in order,” the guard said with a heavy Sennan accent in which his ‘y’s have been dulled beyond recognition. Using a piece of coal tucked into his sleeve he marked the letter with his signature at the top right corner and returned it to Ascilla, earning him an appreciative nod. The other guard tapped thrice on the steel reinforced wooden gate and with a loud clank it rose. When the risen gate locked, the four travelers entered, Ascilla leading them.
“Once within ask for the Commander,” the guard said. “The other guards will guide you.”
“Gratitude,” Ascilla responded, looking back and waving at the helpful man.
The gate opened into a tunnel leading to a large busy complex carved into the mountain. No natural lighting entered and instead oil lamps were placed on every wall and around the crisscrossing paths. Even though it was night, Fort Pax buzzed with the shouts and noises of a city in its busiest hour.
Exhaustion from travel dulled the wonderment of Archer, Balta and Keteus, and habituation made Ascilla uninterested in the intricacies of Fort Pax. Taking a deep breath of stale air, Archer raised his voice to overcome the noisiness of Fort Pax and asked of Ascilla, “Do you think we can delay our meeting with the Commander till after we’ve rested?”
Glad, she answered, “There is an inn by the corner. We can seek shelter there until morning.”
She led the travelers into the inn. After exchanging a few words with the innkeeper and showing him a pendant she wore around her neck, the group was guided by a young woman to an accommodation conveniently ready for four. Two adjacent rooms had been prepared, one with four clean beds and another with a tub and plenty of water to wash. Ascilla was the only to wash before heading to bed. When she emerged from her bath she found all three of her companions in a deep sleep. She appreciated the moment for as long as she could fight her exhaustion then tucked herself between her soft clean sheets, breathed deeply and quickly fell asleep.
2
When Archer awoke the others were fast asleep. Softly he walked towards the window and saw that it was impossible for him to judge how long he slept when no stars nor sun. He looked at his three sleeping companions and decided to bathe. He led himself to the room fitted with all bathing needs he could think of and after much thought and experimentation managed to make use of the contraptions within.
When he was done he wore his boots, shirt and pants. He took a deep breath and smelled the stink of his clothes. He was too lazy to wash them and decided that perhaps he could buy a clean pair of pants and shirt. His concern was quickly forgotten once he got used to his condition on his way to the lower tier where food and beverage were served.
Eager for a hot meal, Archer sat on a wooden table facing the stairway, to spot his companions when they descended, and gestured to the same young woman who had guided them to their accommodation the night before.
The young woman swiftly came to him, for save for Archer, the innkeeper and herself there was no one. “Good evening,” she said. “Care to order?” A closer look revealed to Archer that she was quite fair, with dark hair and matching eyes. She was of a small frame, both in heigh
t and weight, and bore an innocent smile with an equally innocent soft voice. If Balta had time, Archer thought, he would surely fall for that young woman.
“Evening?” Archer asked. “How can you tell?”
She pointed at a big hourglass securely fastened to the wall behind her and said, “Using this. When the darker half is up its past midday. Judging by how much sand remains you can tell the time.”
“I see,” Archer hummed.
“Back to the order,” she giggled. “What will you have?”
“I’m not too sure. What is there to have?”
“I would recommend some ale and our famous onion soup.”
“Sounds good,” he said, drooling at the thought of proper food freshly cooked without the rush of traveling.
The young woman winked at Archer and disappeared behind a wooden door under the stairway. She emerged a few moments later and continued with her usual business of cleaning and organizing, returning to the innkeeper after each task for more instructions.
Ascilla was the first to join Archer, just shortly after his descent, and she too ordered the onion soup and ale. Archer requested his meal be delayed and arrive with that of his companion. The waitress obliged in her usual light mannerism. They shared few words beyond the customary morning, rather evening, greeting and each became lost in their own thoughts of separation. Feeling that their paths would soon diverge Ascilla had no intention of further strengthening the bond between them, and Archer sensed and respected her unwillingness to talk.
Balta and Keteus descended together, both crisp with the signs of cleanliness. They were slightly late and ordered their meals long after Archer and Ascilla had finished theirs, and much longer after Ascilla’s patience reached its limits.
After Balta and Keteus had placed their orders, Archer asked of Ascilla, “You know Commander Chordus?”
“Only recently.” She took a sip of ale and continued, “We often work alongside Peacekeepers but they have no authority over us.”
“Then by whom were you instructed to bring me here?”
“By Duke Constantine himself. I’m not entirely sure where he is now but I suspect he’s somewhere in Senna. Lately, we have been getting their orders from the Duke through the Peacekeepers.”
The food arrived and Balta and Keteus started wolfing down their meals, drinking from their ales quicker than they could swallow the stale bread which they dipped in the soup.
“Perhaps it would be wise to leave Keteus here,” Ascilla said, earning her a neutral glance from the humanoid dragon.
Keteus gestured at the two, having them wait for him to swallow before speaking, and said, “I can wait for you here for as long as you wish, but are we not supposed to pay for this sort of accommodation? I am not certain I can afford to do so.”
“No need to worry,” Ascilla said. “The Ichneumon Order has its privileges. Just don’t overextend your stay. I shall see to the innkeeper’s reward.” Remembering Ganis’ gifts before they parted, Ascilla dropped her hand to her belt, tilting in her wooden chair, and produced the coin purse Ganis had given her. “This should be generous enough to cover your needs for a few months, even if you need other accommodation.” She handed the purse to Keteus. “Try not to squander it, old man.”
Keteus took the coin purse and tucked it into his robe, drinking the remainder of his onion soup and gulping loudly as he poured it into his throat. He gently placed the wooden bowl onto the table and said, “I have lived for centuries without paying a single coin. I believe it will not be difficult for me to control myself.”
“You done?” Archer asked of Balta, earning him a nod. “Then let us go to meet this Commander Chordus.”
3
At the top of Fort Pax, after walking through a large spiraling stairway carved into the mountain itself, the three travelers stood in awe as they enjoyed the sun setting in the horizon, spreading its light and color like a veil on the vista ahead and slowly fading away into darkness. In their marvel they forgot their hurry and basked in the serenity of the moment, a luxury rarely afforded during their travels.
When she was satisfied, Ascilla took a deep breath and said, “The Commander should be somewhere near.” She looked around and found a structure vaguely resembling the one a guard had described earlier, with a pointed wooden roof and large reinforced doors. Two guards stood by the entrance, clad in the same black leather armor of the Peacekeepers but covering it with a blue tabard with the imperial eye stitched at the center.
Ascilla approached the two and introduced herself, formally requesting an audience with the Commander. The guards shared a few whispered words and asked, “What is the purpose of this audience?”
“Delivery,” she answered. “Commander Chordus expects this man.” She pointed at Archer.
“Very well,” the guard said before opening the door. The other stood clear from their way and his eyes followed each of the three guests as they went past him and through the entrance.
They walked into a large square room with three guarded doors ahead of them, one on each wall. Each of the three wooden doors was guarded by a single Peacekeeper such as the ones at the entrance. A large brown carpet covered the stone floor and oil lamps hung on the walls. Their light made up for the lack of windows, not that it would have contributed much at such a late hour.
Ascilla looked around and said, “I seek audience with Commander Chordus.” She nodded to the guard who opened the door in response and led Archer and Balta through, who silently followed Ascilla’s lead without remark or hesitation, watching what their pace allowed them to.
Commander Chordus Cestus sat on a large wooden desk with several books piled on its right corner. A map was spread and fixed by round iron weights on the table. Behind him was a large blue banner with the Peacekeeper colors and insignia, the Peacekeeper eye seemed to Archer to be in intense observation of whoever walked through the door. Oil lamps fastened to the wall lit the room as customary. A single window overlooked the darkness which covered east.
“You have finally arrived, Ascilla,” Chordus said, still focused on the map, moving around some wooden figurines in a rehearsed manner. Once the movement stopped he looked up. His long black hair was tightly tied and his dark blue eyes conveniently matched his blue tabard covering a chainmail beneath. The Commander was seated and the image on his tabard hidden, but it wasn’t difficult to guess what was on it.
Archer though it strange that the Commander would be wearing armor in this place, free from danger under a safe, familiar roof.
“Forgive my delay, Commander.”
“You were expected many months ago and we suspected the worst. These times don’t suit the optimist.” He pointed to a scroll twirled upon itself on a table near the entrance, its blue wax seal broken. “The latest report of our casualties. Your name was written on one such report delivered not long ago.”
“Again, Commander, I ask for your forgiveness. I had no safe way of relaying a message with news of my delay. The delay, however, was not of a grave nature and the mission was a success regardless.”
“Then it is of no consequence. I was asked to keep the tattooed man safe for some time, it was never told how to do so. I thank you for your service.” He produced a parchment from a drawer hidden on the end of his desk facing away from the visitors and wrote a few words before folding it and sealing it with a blue wax and the insignia of the Peacekeepers. He then handed the letter to Ascilla, “Take this and go to the quartermaster. Ask him for anything you need for your next mission.”
“I haven’t gotten word about my next mission, Commander,” Ascilla said. She spoke with an incredible lack of empathy which reminded Archer of the day they first met. She was rather distant back then and seemed to him emotionless.
“Interesting,” Chordus said. Once again he opened one of his desk’s drawers and produced a small folded scroll bound by a purple string. “I thought you were briefed about it by the Ichneumon Order.” He handed her the scroll and she took it.
“You are dismissed now, Ascilla. I need to have a few words with our guest in private.” He looked at Balta and added, “You too are dismissed. You can wait outside.”
When the door was shut behind Ascilla and Balta Chordus asked, “What name do you go by?”
“Archer, Commander.” He did not know how to react and simply stood straight with his arms loosely falling to his side. It was a natural posture made uncomfortable by Archer’s awareness of it.
“Well, Archer, I was asked to keep you safe.” He produced a pipe and a small pouch from a wooden box on his desk and started preparing the pipe with tobacco from the pouch. “I was told you spent the night at the Goat’s Keg inn.”
“I haven’t checked the name, Commander.”
“No need to add ‘Commander’ every time you speak.” Once the pipe was ready Chordus offered it to Archer who politely declined. The Commander did not insist on the invitation and proceeded to light and smoke it himself. Archer watched in silence as the man methodically worked, each motion seeming to be thoroughly rehearsed. “I believe it is the Goat’s Keg inn. Anyway, stay there for now with your two other companions until it’s safe to travel once more.”
“Travel?”
“I believe that Partha is the safest place to be, but the roads there are not. Till then you shall stay here.”
“I don’t understand why everyone is going through such lengths to have me go somewhere or do something. Why am I so important to you?”
Chordus took small puffs of his pipe and blew the smoke upward, away from Archer. The smoke, however, chose its own path and ended up being drawn towards the door and where Archer stood, escaping through the tiny gaps between it and the wall. “You’re not, but you are to someone who is important to me and I will honor her wishes without question or resistance.”
“Who is she?” Frustration started to take over Archer’s lucid demeanor.