“My share can go into the box,” Beran told him.
“And mine,” Murlet agreed. He stood. “Call them together,” he said to Kristo.
Within the hour, the men, by now aware that something was amiss, gathered in the pub and heard the captain’s tale of how the prince of Gruene had perpetrated fraud upon them. As he spoke, a murmur of anger and under-the-breath curses arose and filled the room. Murlet waited until this had subsided and then continued. “Beran and I,” he told them, “have decided to add our share to the box to make up what we can.”
At this, the tone in the room changed.
“Nay, captain,” Len Ganfer protested. “T’is not your fault – nor Hile’s. We will all take our share of the loss – eh, lads?”
“Hear, hear,” they all said at once.
Murlet waited for this outburst to subside. “Well, know this – we will never go to the aid of Helvard again.”
With that, he looked over at Clef. “Tap a keg,” he told the barman, “a large one. There will be no more work today, or for the rest of the week, for that matter.”
The next morning, Brenyn was summoned once more to the council room where he found all the rest in attendance. When they were seated, Murlet looked around. “This year,” he said, “because of the treachery of Prince Helvard, has not been as profitable as we would wish. There is yet a bit of summer left and then the autumn. Winter is yet many weeks away. Do we send Beran out into the world once more to seek another charge?” With that, he looked at Kristo.
The big sergeant considered for a moment and then nodded. “If a job could be found that might be done quickly and without undue risk, I would say yes – t’would be nice to add a bit to the box and to our store of supplies. Who knows how the winter will go? We have had it easy for the last few winters and are due for it. Who knows? – this season may just be the one. It might snow early and often, for weeks. It has done so before, you know.”
Dessen, Clough, and Byre all expressed that they were of the same mind as Kristo. Murlet then looked at Brenyn.
“Brenyn?”
Brenyn shook his head. “I care little for money, but if more is needed to see us through the winter, then I will defer to the rest of you.”
Murlet shook his head as he frowned. “No one defers to anyone here, Brenyn – that is not how it works. Do not withhold your judgment, I beg you. We all want to know your mind.”
“Then I agree with Sergeant Kristo as well,” Brenyn replied. “Harsh winters come seldom, but they do come – and as we have not endured such a winter in a while, this may indeed be the year. But if it be so or not, I am willing to do what is necessary to help the band. If an assignment may be found, then we should take it.”
At the last, then, Murlet looked at Beran Hile.
“I have not gone to the east and south, beyond Merkland, in some time,” the legate said. ‘There is war everywhere and princes on many thrones find themselves in need of aid. I could go east through Merkland and into Illnius, perhaps even Brouard. It may be that something quick and tidy – as Sergeant Kristo states – may be found for us to do ere winter comes.”
Murlet nodded. “Go, then, Beran, but take a day or two and rest before you set upon the road once more, eh?”
Beran nodded. “I will take my ease tomorrow and have my horse shod, and then set out upon the next morning.”
So, as summer drew toward its waning days, the legate went forth again into the world while, after four days of leisure, the rest of the band went back to their daily training, making certain that their minds and bodies remained as sharp and ready for action as the steel of their swords.
To everyone’s surprise, Beran Hile returned in barely two weeks’ time, having gotten no further than the great city of Marius, the capitol of Merkland. Once more, the council was called into session in the upper room.
“The prince of Merkland,” Beran Hile began, “Taumus, by name, came to power a year gone when his forces, most of whom were recruited in Illnius and in the western regions of Merkland itself, defeated the forces of Prince Karul – himself an imposter – and beheaded Karul in the palace square. Taumus then assumed the throne. Prince Taumus, it seems, is someone to be reckoned with in this part of the world, for Merkland as we know, is a wealthy land, with many gold mines in the eastern reaches of the Wessier Hills, and rich farmland all throughout the western plains.”
“Besides sitting upon the throne of Merkland,” Beran went on, “Taumus has held onto his connections in the hinter regions of Illnius, effectively reducing that land to a province and its prince, Rickurd, to little more than a vassal. And Taumus is, evidently, an astute sort of man, and maintains a firm grip upon the councilors with whom he surrounds himself, rendering rebellion in Merkland itself difficult, if not impossible.”
He glanced over at Brenyn before continuing. “Darkings, apparently, do not like any man consolidating power in his hands as Taumus has done, and they have desperately sought someone from the nearby principalities to make war upon Merkland, but not one of his neighbors possesses the strength to confront him alone, so the darkings are even now trying to force an alliance that will stand against him. Pelterez of Morilund, Mungus of Hanfurd, even Rickurd – they are all under pressure. So, despite his machinations, Taumus recognizes the danger to himself. And he understands that the danger arises from the designs of the darkings.”
Here, Beran looked again at Brenyn before turning back to Murlet. “And so, Prince Taumus has offered two hundred gold to meet the man that has slain a darking.”
Murlet started. “He wants to hire Brenyn?”
“No,” Beran shook his head. “For I asked clarification of that question at once,” he said. “No – Prince Taumus simply wants the chance to meet and talk with Brenyn, and he is willing to pay two hundred gold for the opportunity.”
“How does he know of me?” Brenyn wondered.
Beran smiled. “The tale of a mortal man that slew a darking upon the road west of Inverlin has spread far and wide, Brenyn. Did you think it would not?”
“He only wants to meet and speak with Brenyn?” Murlet asked yet again.
Beran nodded. “At the risk of engendering irritation on the part of His Highness, I asked for clarification three times. Taumus only wants to meet and talk with Brenyn, and he will pay him two hundred gold if he will come to Marius.”
Murlet shook his head. “I won’t have him go alone.”
“Indeed,” Beran agreed. “I also sought clarification upon that point. Prince Taumus stated that Brenyn may bring as many companions as he wants – the whole of the band, if he likes.”
Murlet considered this and then looked at Brenyn. “The council cannot decide this matter, Brenyn – you alone must choose whether you will go and earn Taumus’ gold or no – and the gold will be yours to do with as you wish. What say you?”
“No,” Brenyn replied, “I care nothing for the gold. That will go, all of it, into the box.” He looked down then and thought for a moment before looking up again. “I see no reason not to go and see this Prince Taumus,” he said. “And the two hundred gold will help to defray the loss that Helvard precipitated upon us. So, yes, I will go, but I would like you to come as well, captain, along with Beran and Sergeant Kristo.”
“Are you certain?” Murlet asked him. “There may be a trap here that even Beran, in his wisdom, does not see.”
Brenyn shrugged. “I do not fear this prince – and any man that is thought an enemy by the foul race of darkings deserves an audience, does he not?”
Murlet nodded. “Alright – we will go to Merkland.”
31.
The next morning, they set out again for the south, traveling through the wild hills that rose south of the valley, thence through Hanfurd, and then to the frontier with Merkland. Here, Beran Hile produced the writ from the hand of Prince Taumus and they were shown through the barrier at once.
At the crossroads, they turned eastward, through the broad region of farmland that defined western Merkla
nd. Everywhere here, as in all the regions of the world, there was evidence of the ravages of war. Towns had been razed and farms burned, but there was also a difference. Merkland was being renewed, rebuilt, and restored. The new prince of this land obviously meant to return his realm – and his subjects – to prosperity.
Off to the north, the hills, which here were named Wessier, mounded upon the horizon and gradually curved southward. After crossing the river, a larger stream than that which flowed through their own valley and was traversed by a broad and well-built stone bridge of ancient vintage, they stopped for the night in the town of Restun, staying in an inn that sat upon the banks of the river.
Two days later, after another night in yet another town in central Merkland, late in the afternoon, they saw the walls of the capitol city, Marius, rising to their front.
Once more, at the gates, Beran produced the writ and they were shown into the city. There, they were told to wait upon an agent of the prince, who would guide them to the palace. While they waited, Brenyn looked around him at the grand structures of the largest city that he had ever seen. Even here, at the limits of the city, the buildings, all made of stone, mounted up to two and three stories, while ahead, deeper into the capitol, there were even taller structures.
The agent arrived, a short, dark-haired, well-dressed man with an imperious and brusque manner.
“I am Alin Teset,” he said. “Agent of His Highness, Prince Taumus of Merkland. Which of you is the darking slayer? For if the slayer has not come, not one of you will be allowed admittance.”
“I am Brenyn,” Brenyn told him. “I slew the creature.”
Teset turned toward him and studied him closely with his small dark eyes, his gaze ranging over Brenyn’s face and his clothes and, finally, his weaponry. After a moment, he lifted his hand and indicated the sword and shield. “Those will not be allowed into the presence of the prince,” he said.
Brenyn met his gaze for a long moment, nodded, and then turned away as he looked over at Murlet. “Then we have come for nothing, captain,” he said. “I am sorry.”
Alarmed, Teset held out his hand. “Hold,” he said. “You have already come this far. Will you not earn the gold that His Highness has promised by simply speaking with him?”
Brenyn shook his head. “Not if I must leave my sword and shield in the care of another. They must go with me always.”
Teset frowned at this. “Why?”
Brenyn looked back at him with narrowed eyes and decided to utter his suspicion as a truth. “How do you imagine the darking was slain?”
Teset’s gaze took in the sword and shield. “Those? – those things slew the darking?”
Brenyn shook his head. “Not alone, but in my hand. These weapons are talismans of my… they are heirlooms of my ancestry. In them, when in my hand, there is power – but without them I am as any other man, and they are of little use to anyone.”
Teset considered for a long moment and then slowly shook his head. “I cannot allow an armed man into the presence of my prince, especially one so dangerous as you.”
“Then I apologize,” Brenyn responded. “You have wasted your time and we a journey.” He turned away once more.
“Wait.”
Brenyn looked back.
“Come,” Teset said. “Let us go into the city and we will find you lodgings elsewhere than the palace. Then I will consult with the prince and he will decide.”
Brenyn shook his head. “None can decide the disposition of these weapons other than me,” he said. “Not even one so high and mighty as your prince. They go with me or I do not go.”
Teset hesitated again, and then nodded. “Come, let us go into the city, and I will inform the prince of these things. He will decide whether you may meet him armed or no.”
Brenyn glanced at Murlet, who shook his head. “It is your decision to make, Brenyn,” Murlet told him.
Brenyn looked back at the prince’s agent. “We will wait until the morrow ere we leave this place,” he said.
Teset nodded and turned toward the city. “Come, then.”
Deep into the city they went, between towering buildings that rose upon either side and seemed to overhang the street. To the west, the sun slid down close to the edge of the world and the shades of evening gathered between the stone behemoths.
At last, they came to a broad square, two or three hundred paces across, that had been laid out in the heart of Marius. Upon the far side, the walls of the palace rose up tall and strong. Teset turned to his right, toward the south side of the broad pavement. He halted before yet another three-storied building.
“This is the Sword and Dagger Arms,” he told them. “You may put up here for the night.” He held up a hand. “Prince Taumus will not have you to pay since it is he that summoned you. Show the writ and every need that you may have will be met, including meat and drink, and I will come to you in the morning, at the third hour, with the prince’s decision.”
With that, the imperious little man turned on his heel, and, with his companions in tow, marched across the broad square and entered the palace.
“Odd little duck,” observed Kristo, watching him go.
“At least we will have a bed and supper,” Murlet stated, “and I confess to being hungered.”
They went inside and Beran again showed the prince’s writ. They ate a fine meal in the high-ceiling dining hall and then were shown to their rooms on the second floor. Later, as Brenyn lay upon the unaccustomed softness of the inn’s bed, fully dressed, he wondered what the prince of this wealthy land would wish to discuss with the man who had caused the death of one of those creatures that wrought such misery in the world.
Was it all, in fact, a trap, as Captain Murlet had suggested it might be, he wondered? If so, whose trap, that of the prince, or was Taumus in league with a darking? If the first was the case, then Brenyn feared that he might have led Murlet, Kristo, and Beran to their doom. But if it was the work of a darking, then he welcomed it – he believed that his mother’s magic would awaken once more, and he could taste of vengeance against that foul race yet again.
Sleep did not come readily, though whether that was due to his anxiety over the morrow or to the unusual suppleness of the mattress upon which he lay, he could not be certain.
Eventually, he must have fallen asleep, for, rather abruptly, the bright light of morning came streaming in at the window just as a knock sounded on his door. Rolling out of bed, he went to the door and opened it. Kristo stood there.
“Come, lad,” the big man said, grinning broadly. “I smell the sweet aroma of bacon.”
Brenyn collected his sword and his shield and followed the sergeant downstairs where Murlet and Beran were already seated and partaking of breakfast, which consisted of bacon, eggs, and potatoes, all prepared to perfection.
While he shoveled victuals into his mouth, Kristo looked around with wide, admiring eyes at the brightly lit dining hall, and the pretty, well-dressed woman that served the generous portions.
“I didn’t know that a place like this existed in the world,” he stated. “I thought they were all gone.”
Murlet also glanced around him thoughtfully. “This Prince Taumus is rebuilding his land. Will the darkings allow it, I wonder? Magnus was much like this once, Kris, remember? – When we were very young, before the darkings came and ended it.”
Beran Hile nodded and glanced over at Brenyn. “I suspect that is the reason Taumus wishes to meet our young friend.”
Murlet looked over and met Brenyn’s gaze. “Taumus likely thinks that you can provide him a means of resisting the darkings, Brenyn – what will you tell him?”
Brenyn shook his head. “I will speak the truth – that I don’t yet know how to destroy them with certainty, for I do not yet know how to summon my mother’s magic at will. But I will tell him that I mean to discover how to do so, and that the time will then come when I will destroy every darking that I find.”
Murlet watched him for a long momen
t in silence. “I would have laughed at that statement a year ago,” he admitted. “Now? – I have to believe you. I have seen what you can do, Brenyn, though I understand it not. Still, to resist the darkings is a dangerous path to choose in the world as it is. The darkings exert influence over every land, their magic is strong, and nowhere are they resisted.” He hesitated. “And there may be thousands of them.”
“There is one less now,” Brenyn replied in hard tones. “And I mean to add to that number. How? – I know not, but I will.”
No one at that table tendered a response to this declaration, though all three of Brenyn’s companions looked over at him now and then with expressions of concern and uncertainty mingled on their countenances. This strange young man presented a mystery to them, one that even he claimed not to understand. There was an enigmatic power in him; they could feel it, and it had grown since he had come to ride with them.
If he ever came to understand that power, what then would become of him? Or, rather, what would he become?
For his part, Johan Murlet had come to believe that he sat in the presence of a man that might one day alter the very state of the world – and he hoped to live long enough to see it come to pass.
A thin, imperious voice sounded in the hallway outside. A moment later, the prince’s agent, Alin Teset, came into the dining room. After acknowledging Murlet, Beran, and Kristo with a curt nod of his head, he spoke to Brenyn.
“Prince Taumus will see you, sir, even with your weaponry upon your person. He will also have several of his own guards with him to prevent mischief. Is this satisfactory?”
Brenyn stood. “It is, for I intend no mischief.”
Teset stood aside and swept his arm toward the hallway. “Then let us go, please, sir. Prince Taumus is anxious to meet you.”
They followed Teset out and across the grand courtyard to the immense doors of the palace. Here, also, there was evidence of past violence. The great wooden doors showed signs of exposure to fire, and the façade of the palace had suffered damage. Workmen were even now busily repairing the damage. Solemn guards stood upon either side of the entrance and cast surreptitious glances at Brenyn as he and the others followed Teset inside. Beyond the doors, they entered a wide, pillared foyer with marbled floors.
A Plague of Ruin: Book One: Son of Two Bloods Page 29