by E J Gilmour
‘Thank you, we appreciate your help,’ said Eben. ‘We will stock up before we leave in the morning.’
They rested beside the fire in the upper hall of the fortress. Sir Victar provided them with a sumptuous banquet. The night was quiet and uneventful, and the following morning they rose early. Cassiel had already prepared the horses and gathered supplies. The cloud cover of the previous day had mostly passed.
They rode out of Galdir along the winding road that led up through the mountains into the Iron Gate Pass.
CHAPTER THREE
They had passed by the Edius Plateau and hadn’t seen another person since they entered the Iron Gate Pass. They set up their small tents about half a day’s ride west of the plateau in a small dale that was out of sight of the mountain path. A veil of fog had descended and hid the craggy mountainside from view. An icy wind blew down from the snow-capped peaks. They wrapped their cloaks closely and sat by the campfire as an icy night approached.
‘We should come out of the pass tomorrow morning,’ said Cassiel.
‘If we don’t die from this cold first,’ said Red, intensely shivering. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold in my entire life.’
Cassiel pointed his hand at the fire; the flames instantly doubled in size, warming the entire area.
‘Nice trick,’ said Red happily. They all huddled closer to the fire.
Stella brought the horses into the circle of warmth, and Cassiel used his magic so that the fire burned brightly all night, keeping the icy cold away from the campsite. The sunrise promised a warmer day; the clouds had cleared away revealing a bright and clear sky. They packed up the camp and set off early. The mountain path gradually descended; before long they had entered the foothills on the far side.
They stood on a high ridge with a view to the dry and arid plain beyond the mountains. Beyond a group of foothills a dry and dusty plain extended out into the hazy distance. They couldn’t see a single tree in Vastoria; only dry shrubs and prickly weeds grew beyond the Endless Wall Mountains. The land looked rugged and bleak. To the north the Endora Mountain range stretched away westward like giant fangs rising from the plain.
‘Vastoria looks like it’s the opposite of Ortaria,’ said Red.
‘So harsh,’ added Stella.
‘Only tribal nomads survive in the dry deserts,’ said Cassiel.
Eben could see the road led out of the Iron Gate Pass and cut toward the south across the parched plain. Further south there was a wide and lone hill that looked to have a town built on it.
‘I think that’s Sabulo over there,’ he said, pointing toward the southwest.
The others looked and could see the outline of the town in the distance.
‘Sir Victar told us to stay away from Sabulo,’ said Stella.
‘True, he did, but we must find a guide to take us across the wasteland. As far as I know there is no other town around here,’ said Cassiel, his eyes searching the plain. ‘We’ll have to keep our wits about us. If the lord of the town has dealings with the Skatheans then it will be dangerous for us.’
‘Maybe we should just try to cross the wastes without a guide,’ suggested Red.
Cassiel pondered the idea for a few moments. ‘If any of us had ever crossed the wasteland I would probably think we could. The real issue is the possibility of crossing tribal boundaries by accident. The Vastorians are very territorial. Only an experienced guide can make sure we don’t become the victims of an accidental trespass.’
‘Sir Victar mentioned the Empyrean Hills,’ said Eben. ‘Perhaps we should follow the Endora Mountains and cross the Empyrean Hills.’
‘The tribes of the Empyrean Hills are supposedly good and noble,’ said Cassiel. ‘They are closely related to the Irvarians. It would probably be safer for us to go that way. However, I read about the Empyrian Hills before we left Ancora, and I learned it would take us twice the time to cross the Empyrean Hills as it would to cross the wastelands. They are said to be riddled with hundreds of gorges formed by streams that flow down from the Endora Mountains. We probably wouldn’t make it to Faircastle on time for the council if we went that way.’
‘Sabulo it is,’ declared Red.
‘It seems like the most reasonable choice,’ said Cassiel.
**
They followed the road that led southwest and passed through the craggy foothills as they descended toward the plain. Within an hour they had reached the beginnings of the plain. Sabulo was built on a lone hill that jutted out about two miles from the last of the foothills of the Endless Wall Mountains. The hill had steep slopes leading up each side and was completely flat on top, being about five hundred yards from end to end. An old wall made of a yellow ochre coloured stone completely surrounded the town and mostly looked to be in a state of ruin. They approached the hole in the wall that was the town’s northern gate. The gatehouse and the towers had completely crumbled into ruins, and there were no guards. Groups of grubby looking vagrants, vagabonds, and beggars culminated around the entrance.
They rode up toward the gate. As they approached three rough looking men stood up and walked over to meet them.
‘If ya need anyfing in Sabulo we can get it for ya,’ said their leader in a deep burly voice. He was a massive man with a big moustache and long straw like hair. His two companions stood a little back from him, one had a severely hunched back and the other was a young man with a snarl etched into his face. They all had curved Vastorian swords slung over their shoulders.
‘We are looking for a guide to take us across the wasteland to the Adira River,’ said Cassiel.
‘Wez can organise that for ya,’ said the huge man. ‘Iz can take ya to a place where da guides all drink. For a silver piece dat is.’
‘That seems a little costly for such a little service,’ said Cassiel.
‘You sayen I arnt deserve me pay,’ said the Vastorian, his nostrils instantly flared and his lips curled downward. ‘You tink you, an outsida, can come ear and make demands on me, a worken man,’ he added as he angrily stepped toward Cassiel.
Red looked across at Cassiel and shook his head. ‘Let me handle this,’ said Red firmly. ‘I’ll give a bronze and that’s it, you got it, otherwise get out of the way!’ The man frowned up at Red and then sneered as his hand went to the axe that was hanging on his belt. Red’s hand went to his sword hilt. The man took a few steps back. They both severely eyed each other for a few moments.
‘Alright, we’ll make it a bronze,’ said the Vastorian, finally backing down.
‘Berp, take em to da Old Guard Station Tavern.’ The young man with the snarl stepped forward. Red flicked a bronze coin to the huge Vastorian.
‘Follow me,’ said Berp. He led them through the gate.
‘I learned how to deal with people like that when I was living on the streets; some people don’t respond to reason and only speak the language of toughness,’ said Red, glancing back at the big Vastorian as they rode onwards.
The street was covered in waste, and the buildings all looked derelict. Almost every window was smashed and boarded up. Every second house was either a pile of ruins or a makeshift structure. The people living in the city were all covered in filth; everyone looked frightened and deeply troubled. A putrid smell permeated the whole town and was like nothing that Eben had ever inhaled in his life...simply terrible.
‘We won’t stay long,’ said Cassiel as they followed Berp along the main road.
After about a hundred yards Berp turned and led them down a side lane toward the west side of the town.
‘We almost dare; just a bit fuver,’ said Berp. About a minute later he stopped and pointed down a long and dark alleyway.
‘Down dare,’ he grunted before walking away.
‘I don’t like the look of this,’ said Stella, her eyes narrowing as she stared down the foul and grimy alleyway. She shook her head uneasily.
‘I can’t see a tavern,’ said Cassiel.
‘Follow me,’ said Red as he turned his ho
rse and led them forward.
Rats scurried away as they proceeded. About a hundred feet ahead the alleyway came to a sudden end and a second lane bent away to the right.
‘They rode onward and then suddenly came up against an abrupt dead end. There was nothing but a grimy brick wall in front of them.
‘I think we were fooled,’ said Cassiel.
Suddenly a multitude of masked men, all in black attire, appeared from over the edge of the rooftops. Others rushed out from a door behind them and blocked their exit. Most of them had crossbows, others had spears and swords. Eben drew his sword and Cassiel raised his hands, ready to use his magic.
‘You would be fools to resist,’ said a masked man who walked across the rooftop to stand on top of the grimy brick wall.
‘What do you want?’ asked Cassiel, looking up at the man in black. There were at least thirty masked men surrounding them.
‘I want you to drop your weapons and get off your horses,’ replied the man in black.
‘We won’t be doing that,’ said Red, turning his horse around and staring angrily up at the leader of the bandits. There was a deathly silence for a few moments. Eben’s eyes scanned the bandits; he counted at least ten crossbows pointed at them. He wondered if he could possibly take on so many at once.
‘Red!’ exclaimed the man on the wall, breaking the silence. ‘Is that you?’
‘Who wants to know?’ asked Red.
The man quickly pulled off his mask and revealed his face. He was a handsome young man with dark mischievous eyes, an olive complexion, and curly brown hair.
‘Quade,’ said Red with a surprised laugh.
‘I never thought I’d see you again, Red,’ said Quade with a smile from ear to ear. He slid down off the wall to the alleyway below and sheathed his sword.
‘Another friend, Red?’ asked Cassiel suspiciously. Red glanced at Cassiel, understanding that he was referring to the experience with Falsig. He gave a wary smile and then looked back to Quade.
‘Do you treat everyone who comes to Sabulo like this?’ asked Red.
‘No, we’re actually not what we look like; we are the remaining members of the Baker’s Guild. There’s a bounty out on your head big enough to make everyone want to capture you...even bakers. We were not going to hurt you; we just wanted the bounty. Everyone in Vastoria is searching for the four of you. We were told that you had come down from the Iron Gate Pass and were heading this way, so we set a trap for you.’
‘What now?’ asked Red, looking up at the other bakers on the rooftops.
‘You and your friends aren’t safe here in Sabulo. You have to get off the streets. Follow me. I’ll take you somewhere secure.’ Quade then looked to one of the crossbowmen. ‘Tell Big Bill it was a false alarm.’
The bandit nodded and was about to leave, but another masked bandit grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. ‘I don’t think you can make that decision, Quade,’ he said angrily.
Quade looked across at the masked man defiantly. ‘I command these men, Raulok, not you. Red is like a brother to me; I can’t hand him over to Big Bill.’
‘We don’t want to give up the reward, and we don’t care about your friendship. The Skatheans are saying the bounty is one hundred gold pieces. You can be sure I will take them to Big Bill if you won’t.’
Eben could sense the situation was about to explode. Quade looked up at the bandits on both rooftops and then back to those in the alleyway.
‘Are you going to take orders from this little upstart or me?’ asked Quade angrily.
‘I think you’ll find when gold is on the table loyalty is cast into the furnace,’ said Raulok. ‘You haven’t been in the Baker’s Guild long enough to learn what we are truly like.’ He then looked up at the bandits on the rooftops above. ‘I promise to divide the gold evenly among you. That’s three gold each!’
‘He’s lying, and he can’t even bake! Don’t listen to a word he’s saying!’ cried Quade.
‘Capture them all,’ commanded Raulok. A moment passed. The bakers didn’t move. ‘Do it!’ repeated Raulok fiercely.
Several of the bakers threw nets from the rooftop. Cassiel raised his hand. The nets stopped in mid-air and flew back at the men who had thrown them. Raulok was speechless for a few moments as he watched the men on the rooftops become entangled in their own nets.
‘Get them!’ cried Raulok furiously. The bandits in the alleyway all rushed forward.
Cassiel sent a magic shockwave through the air at the approaching bandits. They all tumbled back. Simultaneously he protected them from many crossbow bolts with an invisible shield.
‘Let’s get out of here!’ cried Red, turning his horse and drawing his sword.
Swiftwing spun about and sprung forward. One of the fallen men jumped to his feet and thrust his spear at Swiftwing. Eben deflected the attack and kicked the bandit down as he rode by. Stella and Cassiel were right beside him. A moment later they galloped out of the alleyway. Red heaved Quade up onto the back of his horse and charged away from the bandits. The ragtag group of baker bandits chased after them.
‘Get the horses! Catch them!’ cried Raulok madly, watching as they sped away.
They raced down the main street and turned toward the northern gate. Within seconds they were out of the town and descending the slope toward the plain. They arrived on the dusty plain and stopped to look back at Sabulo.
‘Quade, can you take us across the wasteland?’ asked Red.
‘Looks like I don’t have a choice,’ said Quade, looking back at Sabulo, his face pale with shock at having his men turn on him.
‘We found our guide,’ said Red with a smile. A moment later a large group of riders stormed out of Sabulo.
‘Those bandits are coming after us!’ said Cassiel, turning his horse toward the desert.
‘Ride,’ cried Eben. They galloped westward and charged out across the dusty plain.
CHAPTER FOUR
The bandit’s mangy horses couldn’t keep pace with their warhorses. Before long they were far out on the flat desert plain and out of sight of the pursuers. The dry environment was already taking its toll on them. The horses were starting to tire and an unrelenting dry wind blew from the south. The plain was becoming sandier the further they went. Swarms of flies were constantly circling them and irritating the horses.
‘I can’t believe they turned on me,’ said Quade despondently, his dull eyes staring down at the ground.
‘Wouldn’t you expect bandits to do that?’ asked Stella. Quade glanced glumly in Stella’s direction and didn’t reply.
‘Are we heading in the right direction?’ asked Red as he waved the sand flies away from his eyes.
Quade looked about for a few moments. ‘Soon we’ll have to turn south. If we continue west for too much longer we’ll ride into the tribal regions.’
‘We only have enough water for a few days. I think the horses are going to struggle in these conditions,’ said Eben.
‘There’s a desert well one day from here,’ said Quade. ‘It’s guarded by the Eastern Well Keeper. He’ll want to be paid. The Skatheans may expect us to go in the direction of the well because they’ll soon learn that you were in Sabulo looking for a guide.’
‘Are there any other ways?’ asked Cassiel.
‘Not unless you want to brave the tribal regions west of here. We can either go through the Deep Desert or north to the Empyrean Hills. The people of the Empyrean Hills are very territorial, especially with all the troubles lately. The Deep Desert is dangerous, but probably the best way forward. We could follow the northern edge of the Deep Desert tomorrow. Once we arrive at the well we will be able to restock our water skins and the horses can drink. ’
‘The Deep Desert it is,’ said Cassiel.
They rode onward across the plain and turned south later in the afternoon. Before sunset the plain came to an end. Further south they could see large sand dunes rising above the desert.
‘Welcome to the Deep Desert. We ca
n pitch our camp here and wait until the morning before we move onward,’ said Quade.
They set up camp and rested as the sun descended behind the large dunes. The heat of the day gave way to a cool night. Quade sat on the sandy ground and counted the coins in his leather pouch.
‘Five silver pieces. I’m almost broke. This is all I have left in the world. Red, please explain why I had to give up everything to save your skin?’
‘We could have handled the bakers without your help, so don’t blame me that your guild turned on you,’ said Red defensively.
‘I know; I shouldn’t have been there with those bakers. The plan was to capture and take you to the Skatheans. None of them can really fight, and they’re typically not violent people. They didn’t really want to hurt you. They’re just fools looking to get rich quickly,’ said Quade as he looked eastward across the plain. He then glanced back at Red. ‘Why are we going west? We are a long way from Silvor.’
‘We’re going to Irvaria to attend an important council,’ said Cassiel.
‘What council do you mean?’
‘A council to do something about all the Skatheans and muckrons in our lands,’ said Red.
‘Why do you care, Red?’ asked Quade, surprised that Red was involved in anything so important.
‘I’m a knight; it’s my duty to care,’ said Red with a glimmer of pride in his eyes.
‘A what?’ exclaimed Quade, his jaw dropping at Red’s words.
‘A knight,’ repeated Red with a smile.
Quade’s shook his head in disbelief. ‘I never thought I’d see the day. I can’t believe it! Whatever happened to your idea of going back to Silvor and living the easy life?’
‘It’s a long story, Quade. Last time I saw you I was just about to join the circus in Ancora. That’s where I met Stella. After the circus burned down I started working for an overland trader and travelled around Ortaria. Soon after I met Eben and Cassiel, and a little later we became friends with King Ignis of Ortaria. Life has been an adventure since then, and I’m married too,’ said Red, taking Stella’s hand affectionately.