Tears fell from Graenel’s eyes, but he continued to smile, looking to his son who shared his exuberance and smiled back, the prince turned to Lydria. “Thank you, wielder, for this gift. It will be held with reverence and respect – our gratitude is forever yours.”
Lydria smiled and bowed to the king and prince. “You are welcome, wielder, but might I suggest you speak with Relin and show him this knife. He may be able to tell you more of its construction. If it please the king, I will return to my friends and await your presence, for we have much to do to find the kin of Relin and Haustis.”
Codex of the Prime Wielder
Dar’Ahlmon
Among the kingdoms of the east, the desert land of Dar’Ahlmon is the most well-known, while at the same time being the most secretive. The Ahlmen, as they are known, share the same caramel complexion, unlike the people of Wesolk, or the Eifen, whose skin color is random, like eye or hair color. Many believe this is because the Ahlmen have rarely allowed outsiders into their lands and the randomness has been bred out. The Ahlmen are intensely proud of their heritage. ‘Easier to bribe an Ahlman’ is a saying in Wesolk when faced with someone who takes a position and steadfastly refuses to move from that position.
Because of these differences, the Ahlmen are very secretive and do not allow easy movement between their borders – either for those trying to enter, or those trying to leave. The Dynast Grethje, Edgar believes, is more willing than his predecessors to open trade and travel within Dar’Ahlmon, but he must contend with forces within his government that want to maintain the old ways.
What we know of the kingdom is that their ruler, a Dynast, is the law, but only if allowed by the handful of advisors known as the Pednast, allowing for the efficient rule the kingdom is known for. Education in Dar’Ahlmon is of great importance and all children begin their schooling officially at age six.
Through education, the military of Dar’Ahlmon is considered the finest in the east, and possibly beyond – though how anyone knows this is impossible to say with certainty. However, the Dynast and the Pednast have historically always followed the seven laws of Ahlmen quite strictly. The first law being that the Ahlmen will never seek war but will prosecute war to its inevitable conclusion if tested. That being so, the Ahlmen stay within their own borders, venturing out only to put down those who test their laws – the most recent being the now vassal states on Dar’Ahlmon’s southwestern border
Unlike many kingdoms, the people of Dar’Ahlmon follow no god. They have no official religious buildings, personages, nor beliefs. While they tolerate belief, they do not tolerate any form of missionary interference, considering it an act of aggression and war.
Lydria
9 - Into the desert
Leaving Lydria and the others at Port Ogdam was jarring for Grettune who had rarely traveled outside her small community and never south of Bayside. She also harbored doubts as to what she could accomplish if her magic was required. For his part, Krieger seemed to feel her apprehension and spent most of the time talking about inter-kingdom politics and what they could expect in Dar’Ahlmon, repeating time and again how their mission was the easier of the two.
“A simple message delivery, nothing more,” he told her and Perryn nearly every day, contradicting what had been said on the ship. “The others are entering, at best, a hostage negotiation, and at worst a battle. We’re taking a stroll into a new kingdom – it will be fun.”
If Lydria could hear Krieger now, it is possible, Grettune thought, that she would say she’d never heard the word ‘fun’ come from his mouth before. It seemed out of place.
After having walked for several days away from the port, Krieger turned them east and they left the forest and came out just south of the Swinton Flats and west of a tiny hamlet - a collection of houses that had given up any pretense of an official name and settled on Smuggler’s Rest. To the south of the hamlet, and where they now walked, was a stretch of plain known in Wesolk as the Free Territories. There was no official government in the area, but the area provided a wide neutral border area between Wesolk and Dar’Ahlmon. Other than Smuggler’s Rest, the only town worthy of the name in the Free Territories was Swinton itself, named for the flats to its north. Swinton had the distinction of being the only town recognized by both kingdoms. Because of this mutually beneficial neutrality, the town had grown large and prosperous. Krieger’s intent was to procure mounts to ride into Dar’Ahlmon.
“As a neutral town Swinton doesn’t have walls or fortifications,” Krieger told them. “They do a tremendous trade, however, as currently Wesolk and Dar’Ahlmon do not officially trade together. So, they use Swinton as an intermediary, and many other kingdoms follow suit. The benefit is that Swinton is remarkably wealthy. The problem is that it makes Swinton a target for thieves, bandits, highwaymen, and all sorts of people who think the town is an easy target with rich pickings. They are correct on the latter, but entirely uneducated on the former.”
“If the town has no walls, how do they deter crime?” Perryn, as the owner of a tavern, was interested in all matters associated with limiting crime and theft.
“They hire the best thieves to catch the others. It’s one of the benefits of having so much money – you can afford to hire those who are the best at their jobs.” Krieger and Perryn smiled broadly as if in on some private joke.
“Will our collars give us trouble, Krieger?” Whereas Perryn often forgot he was even wearing a wielder’s collar, Grettune never did. To her the collar was a beacon that invited curiosity, fear, respect, or belligerence.
“I don’t know, to be truthful, Grettune. I know word of the wielders is spreading, but it will be interesting to see how far it has traveled. I shouldn’t think anyone will bother you. The stories of the powers of the wielders are stunningly over-stated, and I think if you looked sternly at someone, they might think you were about to turn them into a donkey.”
Perryn laughed but stopped quickly when he noticed his wife was not nearly as caught up in the joke. “We will be fine, Gret,” he told her, using the name he only used for her in private. Perryn’s confidence in his own magical power was something of a mystery to his wife. While he practiced hard and had made progress, it seemed he was unable to easily accomplish many things that were nearly effortless for her or Lydria. In Brookfield Perryn would often walk far into the woods, or down the river, to practice by himself, and within a few hours he would come home, in high spirits and in good humor. Grettune never understood how practicing magic, which should make him tired and keep him in near-constant pain, could make him so joyful and boisterous. But that, she told herself, is why she fell in love with the man to begin with. He was serious about his work, but not about himself.
Soon after leaving the tree line, and cresting a small rise, the countryside spread out in an unremarkable flatness with neither hill nor tree to hinder their vision. Far to the east across a landscape that was more brown than green and behind the shimmers of late summer heat rising from the ground, Grettune could just make out the trailing mountains and foothills of what she knew were the Godsmouth Peaks, an enormous line of mountains that marked the eastern border of Wesolk and the western border of Pauflin. To the north the brown gradually gave way to something approaching green and trees in the far distance. To the south, cactus grew up amidst the brush and scrub that found their footholds in a thin layer of topsoil. A system of irrigation ditches allowed small farms to grow green crops and wheat but mostly she saw herds of sheep tended by bored boys napping under canvas sheets set up against the sun.
Against the southern horizon Krieger pointed out the shimmering outline of rooftops in Swinton. Made primarily in the fashion of Wesolk, Swinton had become over the years a riot of cultures. A particularly effective policing policy and enough well-earned money to keep corruption from becoming a problem, the various people and languages that collided in Swinton worked toward the collective good. Following the trade road from the north, Grettune and Perryn were greeted respectfully
by passers-by, even those who did not know who they were.
“Are we to march boldly into Dar’Ahlmon with no thought to covering our necks, Krieger?” Grettune was tense and it showed on her neck as her collar glowed faintly even in the sunshine.
“We are diplomats, not invaders.” Krieger’s answer was smooth and comforting. He had been a diplomat for years, and for years before that, he had entered foreign nations by stealth – a needful skill for someone who meant only to take a life and leave quietly. “Your collar will do more good on display than hidden behind a scarf.”
Grettune looked to her husband to see what he had to say about the matter, but his eyes were shifting constantly, taking in the wagons with bright bolts of cloth, barrels of ale and liquor, smoked meats, and a hundred other things being brought to Swinton’s Grand Bazaar.
“Did you time this mission so we would be here at the busiest time of year?” Grettune asked Krieger.
“Grettune, do you realize you glow when you’re excited or tense? I had hoped that happened only when we were alone, but, alas…” Perryn smiled at his wife and she turned to him furious, but only for a moment. Sensing he meant only to warn her, she calmed quickly and held his hand, blushing, and doing nothing to lessen the glow which now was visible around Perryn’s neck as well.
Krieger smiled at the two and seemed for a moment envious of their happiness together. “The Grand Bazaar will provide a large crowd and it’s easier to get lost in a crowd than in empty streets. We will spend a day in town, I have someone to meet, and perhaps the bazaar would be a good place for the Governess of the Western Reaches to make contacts that would bring some of this trade to the north.” Perryn gripped Grettune’s hand harder and smiled at her. Krieger was right, the bazaar would be an excellent opportunity for Brookfield and the smaller communities of the Western Reach which she governed.
In the jostling of a busy road Grettune soon found herself in the midst of the town, the streets shifting from hard-packed dirt tracks to well-laid brick streets. The footfalls of horses and other animals ricocheted across the street surface and everywhere there were sights and smells to keep their heads turning. “We head to the south side of town to an inn called the Camel’s Hump. There you can rest, and I can go off to meet my friend. We will meet again for dinner later tonight and be off at first light. We should be in Dar’Ahlmon in four or five days if we can find mounts.”
With the daylight fast receding, Grettune and Perryn used the quiet time to enjoy a leisurely meal in the tavern while Krieger tended to his meeting. “Don’t you feel like people are staring at us?” Grettune remarked to her husband during a lull in the conversation around them.
“People stare at us even at home. Why should it matter they stare here? Perhaps it’s your lovely red hair they find so enchanting?” Perryn raised his eyebrows and pushed back his plate. “You seem nervous, Gret. It’s not like you to be so concerned about what others think. What’s wrong?”
Grettune moved a small pile of beans back and forth with her wooden fork in one hand and took her husband’s hand in the other. “Perhaps because when we have our child, I want to be in my own home, among my own people and not traipsing around a desert somewhere, eating…what was this?”
“Camel. Wait, what? You’re pregnant? How? When?”
“Perryn, relax, you’re making a scene.” Perryn’s collar was glowing brightly and pulsing in time with his own heartbeat and as the heads of those nearby turned toward them, he forced himself into a state of calm, taking deep breaths and never losing contact with his wife’s eyes. Even as Perryn’s collar returned to normal, his face still glowed, and he couldn’t contain his grin.
“To answer your questions, I should think it should be obvious to you by now how your wife might be pregnant, and as to when, I’d say it’s been at least a month.”
Unable to contain himself longer, Perryn stood and held up his hands. Seeing the formerly glowing wielder stand so, the common room of the Camel’s Hump went almost instantly quiet. “Ladies, and gentlemen,” he began. “I am just a tavern keeper myself, of the Ice Pillar far to the north in Brookfield, and my good lady, the Governess of the Western Reaches, Grettune, beside me, has said she carries our child.” The tavern erupted in cheers and the patrons banged their mugs on the tables and several of the men winked crudely at Grettune. “Barman, a round for the room.” The cheers that met the announcement of a child were nothing as compared to the cheers that erupted for free ale and soon cries of ‘the Ice Pillar’ and ‘Wielders’ punctuated the air as full mugs were placed on tables.
“Krieger would be mortified,” Grettune told Perryn as he sat, and their hands found each other once again. “Even on a diplomatic mission, I don’t think he would approve.”
“I don’t care,” Perryn said, his smile only just starting to recede. “I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to attack two wielders in the middle of a full tavern. It’s bad for business, you know.” With that, they finished their drinks and went upstairs, calls to their health following them to their room.
“What were you thinking?”
The next morning Krieger was standing in Grettune’s room as she and Perryn shouldered their packs and prepared to leave. The sun had not yet risen, but a dull light crept over the small hills on the eastern horizon.
“I thought we were on a diplomatic mission without cause for stealth?” Perryn replied, moving between Grettune and Krieger.
“Did you tell everyone what business we were on as well?” Krieger was furious but maintained his temper. With Grettune and Lydria, Krieger would have let his anger be more openly known, but Perryn’s abilities were still unknown to him, and he understood that a man will protect his wife, and even more fiercely when she is pregnant.
Sensing the anger in Krieger and realizing that he was right in his concern, Perryn adopted a more passive posture and apologized to the older man. “Of course not, Krieger. Perhaps I got a bit carried away.”
Krieger pursed his lips together and reached into a leather satchel he carried by his side, producing a handful of papers and handing them to Perryn. “As it turns out, several guests were suppliers here for the bazaar and left notices with the barman last evening that they would love to do business with a wielder. I suppose, you did exactly as I suggested.” Krieger smiled at Grettune and shook his head before reaching out and embracing her. “Congratulations Grettune, and you Perryn, it is wonderful news for you both. So, now, the question becomes, do you continue south, or do you turn toward home?”
Without waiting for Perryn, Grettune gripped her gear and responded immediately. “Krieger, I’m a subject of King Keldon, and we have an agreement with King Edgar. I am also a Wielder, and we have a job to do; if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to do it and return home as quickly as possible.” Not interested in the response of either man, she stepped out of the room, and headed down the stairs where they found her a few minutes later outside the Camel’s Hump.
“Where are the horses, Krieger?” Grettune sounded angry, but her face said otherwise. She was happy to be moving and in good spirits as she saw the two men around the corner, smiling and chatting together.
“I’m sorry, we won’t be traveling by horse. Dar’Ahlmon is several days ride into the desert and horses require too much water. We won’t be walking though.” As if on cue a stable hand waved to Krieger, and led toward them three single-humped camels, saddled and ready to go.
10 - Caravans
Riding a camel was unlike anything Grettune had ever done before. Aside from sitting several feet higher than on a horse, camels swayed unnervingly from side to side, their giant padded two-toed feet almost silent on the hard-packed ground. The saddles were unlike leather horse saddles in that they were made of a wooden frame topped with a cushion. They were comfortable, but felt unstable, especially if the beast moved at anything faster than a slow walk.
Riding out of town amidst a caravan of traders heading south, the three guided their mounts unsteadi
ly at the rear of the line. To either side of the main road, shepherds moved small herds of sheep and goats. The men and women in the caravan were dressed in bright, light colors with white, yellow, and pale blue being the most common, and when they passed Grettune and Perryn they would say hello or acknowledge the wielders respectfully, but they did not stay to talk.
During the middle of the day many of the traders stopped and pitched tents beside the road. “Those who are familiar with Dar’Ahlmon rarely travel during the high sun of the day,” Krieger explained. “As we are past the worst of the summer heat, not all travelers stop to rest, preferring to travel during daylight. Despite the policing in Swindon, the roads are not policed with the same expedience as the town. Banditry is not unknown along this road, but I expect if we were to stop for a rest, many of those who travel the road in front of us would stop as well.”
Grettune waited for Krieger to continue but when he did not, she considered the movement of people was steady and while many passed them on the road, few maintained their pace. She would have expected some travelers to be far ahead of them, but most were grouped together only just out of earshot, seemingly in no hurry to distance themselves from the three northerners.
“News of magic’s power travels far,” Grettune said. “Do they think we offer them some protection against bandits?”
Magic's Genesis- Sword of Wilmamen Page 8