by Jeff Wilson
“Very true,” Logaeir replied. “And the building that you visited was only one amongst five others owned by Saivelle. The other three harbormasters control twice that number between them.” Logaeir’s response implied that he was well aware of Edryd’s movements, and knew exactly which warehouse he had been talking about.
Edryd started extrapolating figures based on what he had seen in the warehouse, multiplying that by more than a dozen. It was staggering to say the least. “You mean to raid the town,” Edryd asserted confidently, putting the pieces together.
“No,” Logaeir laughed. “While I did say we had grown too large, there are not enough of us to pull that off. We would need to take and hold at least one of the piers for a day or more to carry much away with us. Besides, my men would be running the moment Seoras showed his face. That is of course, if they don’t fall out with each other over dividing the spoils long before that.” Clearly, Logaeir had been running these scenarios through his mind for a while now.
“So you are too many to hold together unless you pull off something of scale, but still too few for a successful raid on An Innis?” Edryd summarized.
“Near to a fair assessment,” Logaeir agreed.
“I’m not sure I see a future for myself as an Ascomanni,” Edryd responded. “I don’t want to say you have done a poor job in selling the offer, but if I were to come around to the notion of mixing with criminals, I think I would pick a group with better prospects.”
“But that is where you come in to the equation,” Logaeir countered, speaking as though he were solving a complex set of predictions. “The only thing we lack is a leader with credibility, and you have a reputation that commands real fear and respect. I don’t need more men. I need better men. And I need someone who will stand up against Seoras when the time comes.”
Edryd was speechless, and completely unprepared for what Logaeir was suggesting.
“I am not planning a raid,” Logaeir continued. “I want you to plan a battle, and lead the Ascomanni in the taking of An Innis.”
Edryd’s legs felt like they might give out, and all of the blood drained from his face.
“I am not who you think I am,” Edryd finally managed in a weak but steady voice. “I cannot stand against Seoras. I believe you already know that I am running from him. Even if I were this wandering prince, I still would not be who you think I am.”
“I know exactly who you are. You are Aisen, son of the hero Aedan Elduryn, and you are a captain in the Sigil Corps, the best soldiers in the world.” Logaeir insisted.
“If you place such hopes on me, I will disappoint you,” Edryd replied sadly. “I can’t help, and I wouldn’t if I could.”
Logaeir was crestfallen. Edryd was embarrassed. He was also more than a little angry. How could someone ask so much of someone he had met just minutes ago? Too late, Edryd realized he might have irreparably destroyed any chance of using Logaeir to get off of the island. Having flatly refused to help the man, it didn’t seem like a good time to ask a favor, but he most likely would never get another chance.
“I am sorry I can’t help you in the way that you wanted,” Edryd apologized. “I hope you understand.”
“I know it was no small thing to ask,” Logaeir responded, “but I offer as much in return. After An Innis falls, my men are at your disposal. We can support you and the Sigil Corps against the King of Nar Edor in your claim to your lands. An Innis would recognize you as its ruler and it would become part of your holdings.”
“I don’t want any of that,” Edryd replied sharply, groaning inwardly in frustration. More calmly he added, “I just want to get off of An Innis and away from Aed Seoras.”
Logaeir reacted with disappointment, but a small light of hope remained in his eyes. “Spend one month training our men. If after that you still want to leave, I will take you back to Nar Edor or to any destination along the Ossian coast.”
Edryd considered the offer. He considered it carefully. He liked to think of himself as an honest man. He once had been. And though he had done nothing but lie from the moment he had arrived on An Innis, he hadn’t yet sunk to a point where he could accept the thought of joining or even helping the Ascomanni. These were men who were supporting themselves on the misery of others. They were actively attacking and murdering the people of An Innis. It didn’t matter that there were no innocent parties, and that the men of An Innis were quite possibly worse than the Ascomanni. Edryd wanted no part of either side.
“I can’t help you, Logaeir, I have no place in this.”
Logaeir looked like he was struggling against the urge to say something more, but he had shared far more than was safe already. Edryd was not sure that he was going to be allowed to walk away.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Logaeir eventually responded. “I understand your reasons, but I think in the coming days you will find your options are limited. Circumstances will force you to choose a side.”
They parted ways at the bottom of the path. Edryd made his way carefully up through the darkness. Distressingly, he found he had to stop and rest several times, his breath coming with unusual effort and his legs protesting each step. Edryd took pride in his strength and stamina so none of this seemed right. It wasn’t an easy climb, but it should not have been this difficult.
Emerging from the thick vegetation near the cliff’s edge after making his way back to the top of the trail, Edryd found a suitable perch in the form of a large smooth rock on which to take another rest. Looking back towards the town, he noticed the orange glow of a campfire that was illuminating a crude shelter dug into a low hill. The location was protected from the winds by two short irregular walls that extended from the hillside. These were constructed from moss covered stones placed together in an almost haphazard fashion that created a look that felt like a natural extensions of the terrain. Edryd had not seen this hovel on his way out, but the hill that made up the northern wall of the shelter, in combination with the two stone walls, shielded both the encampment and the small fire from being viewed from any direction but south.
Feeling cold and exhausted, Edryd shed any thoughts of caution. He never even considered the idea of skirting around the camp as he made his way back. Instead he went straight for the inviting warmth promised by the light. As he approached the makeshift shelter, he could see the figure of a man tending to the fire. As he drew near, he could see the man’s face which was illuminated by the flickering light emanating from the low flames. It was the man who had slipped him the coin. He had apparently trailed Edryd and then stayed up on the cliff to keep watch and give warning if anyone managed to follow him to the meeting.
“You would be Krin?” Edryd asked.
Krin smiled and nodded. He was no longer the drunken oaf he had pretended to be that evening in the inn. Krin invited Edryd to sit on one of the stone seats arranged near the fire. “You’ve met with Logaeir and the others,” Krin stated. “It would seem you must have turned him down.”
Edryd nodded his head in confirmation.
“I don’t blame you,” Krin sympathized. “It would have been foolish to throw in with us. Logaeir has some questionable ideas, and from what I know of his plans, they would have ended up getting you killed. They might yet end up getting me and most of the Ascomanni killed for that matter.”
“Logaeir is your leader?” Edryd asked.
“No,” Krin answered. “The Ascomanni don’t have a leader, or at least not any single leader.”
“How does that work?” Edryd wondered.
“Crews choose their own captain. The captains have an informal hierarchy, but no one can give orders to the others. If we act in concert, all of the captains have to agree.”
“But Logaeir is one of your leaders,” Edryd posited. Logaeir had on several occasions referred to the Ascomanni as ‘his’ men, and the grand plans he had outlined for Edryd suggested he was in a position to set things in motion. Clearly he had considerable authority in the group.
“No, not as a
captain,” Krin answered, correcting Edryd’s assumption. “I’m a captain for whatever that is worth,” Krin continued, “but Logaeir is… Logaeir is something else altogether.”
“He doesn’t have any authority then?” Edryd protested doubtfully.
“No, none at all,” Krin declared. “He has his ideas, and there is no doubt he is very smart, but he is no leader. He would admit as much. He never stays in one place. Not long enough to gain much real trust from any single crew. You don’t rise in the ranks that way.”
“So he is no one then? Why was I meeting with him and not you?”
“He might not have any formal authority, but that is not to say he is without influence. As proof of that you need only consider that he persuaded me to come here to recruit you. In case you can’t tell, that went against my better judgment.” Krin grinned in bemused wonder as he admitted having been moved about by Logaeir like a piece on a game board. “It’s to your credit that you had the sense to reject what he was asking.”
“And what he offered. He was going to give me a place of prominence within the Ascomanni,” Edryd said. “I can’t imagine he could have been authorized to honor a promise like that.”
“No, he wouldn’t be,” agreed Krin. “For that matter, no one in the Ascomanni could make that offer.”
“He lied then?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. You have something of a fearsome reputation, much more than you realize, I’m guessing. You have skill and experience in combat, and you have claims as the master of multiple respected houses. If you joined the Ascomanni, many would follow you. It isn’t that Logaeir was offering you leadership, rather he knows what would naturally follow the moment you were accepted among us.”
“You believe I made the right decision?” Edryd asked.
“I do,” Krin answered. “Captures are falling off too fast and we are already fraying at the edges. It is only a matter of time. Adding the Blood Prince to our ranks would delay things, but it won’t stop the inevitable disintegration. You have something to offer, but nothing to gain.”
“That is why Logaeir said he plans to take An Innis,” Edryd said.
Krin looked completely taken aback.
“You think he said too much about the plan,” Edryd said in response to Krin’s startled reaction.
“Well, yes, I suppose so, but what’s troubling me the most is that there is no ‘the plan’. Or if there is, he never bothered to include me in his deliberations. He said he is going to take An Innis? I can’t say I’m pleased, though I don’t know why I am surprised.” Krin looked frustrated, and ready to exact some sort of punishment to reign in the reckless Logaeir.
“You think it is a bad idea then?” Edryd asked, trying to get Krin’s take on the feasibility of Logaeir’s intentions.
“A bad idea… no, it’s a terrible one! If someone could neutralize Seoras, I might give it some thought…” Krin, making a mental connection, stopped his rant short. “You fought Seoras a few days ago. If you had to, do you think you match him?”
“If you know I fought with him, you must also know how it ended. No, I am no match for that man.”
Krin did know what had happened. He was disappointed by Edryd’s response, but not especially so. He leveled an insult at Edryd anyway. “I understand Logaeir’s thinking now. It is a shame that you measure so short of your reputation, and that you are so easily defeated. A man Seoras broke in less than a week wouldn’t be any good to us.”
Edryd flushed with heat at the remark. He knew Krin was trying to provoke him, but that didn’t make Edryd any less angry or Krin any less correct. “This is not my fight,” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” Krin agreed, “and the last thing we need is a man who doesn’t want to fight.” Krin stood up, gave a short goodbye, and strode away from the camp, shrinking into the darkened night.
The momentary heat from the agitation Krin had kindled faded quickly as cold air sapped the warmth from Edryd’s body. Seeking to stay warm, he pulled the ends of his too small coat tight around his body, and having no strength left to do anything else, Edryd curled up on the ground next to the fire and promptly fell asleep.
Edryd slept late into mid-morning the following day, when he was roused by the warmth of the sunlight reaching him through his blanket. It did not immediately occur to him, but eventually he remembered he had not had a blanket with him when he fell asleep. Bolting upright, he looked around in confusion. There were coals still smoldering in what was left of last night’s fire. Someone had tended to it in the night or it would have gone cold long ago. Whoever his visitor had been, he had covered Edryd in the blanket. A quick glance around the camp site revealed a full water skin and a half dozen hard biscuits wrapped in a piece of cloth. Beside the supplies was a note, weighted down with a heavy bronze coin.
Edryd took the coin in one hand and held the letter out in the other as he read the note.
I hope this finds you well – I couldn’t stay longer and I didn’t want to wake you (you look like you needed rest) so this note will have to suffice. Our offer is an open ended one. If you change your mind, or you ever need help, you can find us in the same manner as you did before. – L
It seemed clear who his benefactor was, if you could call him that. Edryd examined the coin. It was similar to the one from the night before, only this one, though it must have been from a much older mintage, was still bright and clean and had no scratches on it. The design of the coin was similar but it did not bear Esivh Rhol’s image. Instead there was a family crest inscribed with the motto: wisdom is strength. None of it meant anything to Edryd. However, as with the coin from last night, this one also had a thin piercing. Flipping the coin over he could see the same rough map of the island found on the Esivh Rhol coin. This time the piercing ran through a spot Edryd judged to be just south of the roadway he had travelled upon on his way towards town the night he had first arrived in An Innis. The meaning was obvious enough. He could make contact with the Ascomanni at the marked location.
Edryd nibbled on one of the biscuits but felt sick the moment he swallowed the first few crumbs. Realizing he had eaten nothing the previous day, he forced himself to eat a few more pieces. He also managed a few swallows of water, and felt better for it. Edryd stood, brushing away the small pieces of cold bread that had crumbled into his lap, but feeling dizzy, quickly sat back down.
Taking it slow, he stood up once more. Tying the biscuits into a bundle with the cloth and tucking them into his coat, Edryd grabbed the water and dropped Logaeir’s letter into the coals of the fire. He placed the coin into a coat pocket and proceeded to stumble out of the shelter and around the low hill that hid it from view. As he began working his way back towards town, he felt his face and found it burning hot to the touch but completely dry and free of perspiration. Edryd loosened his shirt, hoping that it would help to cool him down.
He tried another swallow of water but it made him cough and caused his throat to tighten up. He had been feeling sick for days, ever since he had been hit by Seoras. The damage was far more serious than anyone realized. Seoras had put Edryd in this fragile state, but the exertions Edryd had taken upon himself over the past day and a half had made things much worse.
As Edryd made his way into the town, true to form, An Innis was predictably quiet at this time of the morning. The few people he encountered all seemed startled, and filled with a fear caused by his sudden appearance, they hurried away. At an intersection of two wide streets, Edryd came to a clear pool, whose surface was broken by slow ripples which extended out from the source that fed its shallow depths with clean water. Seeing his reflection in the pool, he now understood the strange reactions. His open shirt revealed the mottled mass of unsightly bruising. It had a foreboding appearance. His undamaged skin alternated between tones, appearing sickly pale wherever it wasn’t faintly pulsing red with blood and heat.
The stories he had heard about the Ascomanni and the contagion that left them looking almost dead, with fles
h colored to reveal their accursed state, didn’t quite match his appearance, but it did call them to mind. Edryd knew there was no truth to any of it, but that didn’t mean the people he encountered would dismiss such fears as easily as he had, especially if they had known of his contact with the feared Ash Men, or knew that he had recently spent time on the mainland within the forests.
Edryd pulled his shirt closed, tried futilely to fasten his coat, and continued on, taking great care to avoid being seen. He did not realize at first that he was headed in the direction of Greven’s inn. He couldn’t go there, not if he wanted to stay hidden from Seoras. Feeling inside of his coat for the set of iron keys, Edryd was comforted when he discovered that they were still there. He had previously decided against it, but it was his best option for now. He didn’t have the strength to go wandering around looking for something both abandoned and unsecured, and he certainly was in no condition to try kicking down any doors.
Edryd travelled slowly, pausing frequently so as not to exhaust his remaining strength. He took an indirect route through narrow alleyways in order to limit the risk of being seen. Arriving at the back of the property, Edryd crawled through an opening in one of the overgrown hedges. He tried both keys at a side door and discovered with frustration that they wouldn’t engage. The locking mechanism seemed to be broken or rusted shut. Almost as an afterthought, he placed the palm of his right hand on the rough surface of the wooden door and pushed. The thick heavy oak door swung smoothly inward several inches. The lock wasn’t broken, it just wasn’t locked. Edryd pushed harder and the door opened the rest of the way.
It was immediately apparent that the home was not altogether abandoned. The interior was empty, completely without furniture, and the floors were layered thick with dust, but that dust had been recently disturbed. There were foot trails going in and out of all of the rooms, and several others that led up and down a wide stairway near the main entrance. Edryd knew he shouldn’t stay, but he was past the limits of his strength. He found a comfortable corner away from any windows, and wrapping his coat around him, he slumped into an inert pile. A moment later he was sleeping deeply, oblivious to everything.