by Guy Antibes
“I hadn’t realized you were all so capable,” he said in a smaller voice.
Brother Yvan chuckled, which seemed to reduce the tension that Trevor felt. “We don’t need guards, we were thinking that we could help guard others on the Northern Road.”
“Be sure your presence will be appreciated. If you will excuse me, I’ll consult with Oliva on getting all our group mounted and on the road.”
Trevor watched Bartell talk with Oliva, who shot them a glance and gave them a quick, tight smile.
“Am I wrong to guess that something was up with those two?” Trevor asked.
“Not wrong to suspect, but wrong to conclude,” Brother Yvan said.
Trevor lifted the Jarkanese sword at his back up an inch, and then he let it settle back into the scabbard. “We will travel a bit behind them on the road.”
“There is nothing wrong with that,” Brother Yvan said as he mounted.
Trevor followed and they waited for Oliva’s group to leave the stable yard and followed fifty paces or so behind.
“We aren’t going to mingle with them?” Lissa asked. “I’ll bet you can swap some exciting stories with the guards. They look like battle-hardened soldiers.”
“Battle-hardened, but I’m not so sure they were soldiers. If you get a chance, talk to Oliva or Bartell about their cargo, and I’ll ask the guards what they are protecting. I’m interested to see if their stories are the same.” Trevor looked at the two wagons. The covers over their goods were very tight and secure. He wished that one of his companions could use their magic to see through things.
Once outside the town, they proceeded east on the Northern Road. There were other travelers, some going faster and some slower, but Trevor could see that most were moving in groups like theirs. As they continued, the road became emptier and as they passed the last village before the town where they would spend the night, there were no others on the road when they rode through a forested section.
The guards began to steal glances more often in the twilight and Trevor’s uncertainty began to solidify into waiting for the people up ahead to make a move.
“Be ready,” Trevor said. “Pushing on to the next town was a ruse to get us alone on the road.”
“A conclusion?” Brother Yvan asked.
Trevor nodded. “It might be approaching time to conclude. Get prepared for a battle,” Trevor said as he tightened up the cuirass and put on the helmet he usually never used.
Reena looked at Trevor. “You are the only one protected.”
“We all have our own defenses,” Lissa said.
“True,” Reena said. She untied the cord holding her sword tight to the saddle and eased the weapon out of its sheath.
The wagons and horses stopped ahead. Trevor called a halt to his group.
Oliva, flanked by the four guards, rode toward them. She had no weapon in her hand.
“Drop your weapons, and we will let you live,” she said after halting ten paces away and raising her hands.
“We will keep our weapons, thank you,” Brother Yvan said. “I think you underestimate us.”
A sizzling, brilliant white light exited from Oliva’s hands, but before it reached Trevor, Lissa attacked Oliva, forcing the woman to back up her horse, her hand splayed on her chest with smoke curling from her fingers.
“One more dose should do it,” Lissa said.
The four guards advanced at once, but their charms didn’t match the flailing streams of power moving back and forth between them. Oliva was the only person left. Reena used the tip of her sword to shoot a bolt of flame at Oliva’s horse as it headed south off the road and disappeared into the darkness. Trevor heard a scream and then nothing.
The closest refuge was ahead, and they had three more people to go through.
“No need for violence,” Brother Yvan called out to Bartell and the two drivers, sitting on the wagons’ bench seats.
Another stream of fire flowed from ahead and splashed harmlessly on Trevor’s chest.
“Perhaps I was wrong,” Brother Yvan said with a sigh.
Trevor galloped ahead, closing the distance in seconds. Both drivers were magicians, and in a moment, they were off the wagons, facing Trevor. Bartell ran to his horse while Trevor fought the magicians, and began to gallop down the road.
Arrows flew from either side. Reena was nicked by an arrow, but Lissa was able to dodge another in the dark. Reena slid along the road and took refuge in the roadside ditch, holding onto her wound. Lissa crouched down and ran toward the archers while Trevor took the other side.
Trevor found his assailant restringing a bow. He didn’t give the man a chance and dragged the body to the road while he heard Lissa taunting the other archer. It was dark enough that he could only see well enough to avoid running into a tree. A flash lit up the air followed by a short scream.
Trevor ran across the road to see Lissa standing over the last archer’s smoking body.
Lissa leaned up against Trevor. “I had hoped all the killing was behind us, and I never had to do it again.”
Brother Yvan joined them. “I hope you don’t have to either. Let’s join Reena. I quickly bound her wound, but it needs proper healing.”
Trevor looked down the road toward Tiralina. Bartell had escaped, but at least Trevor would have the opportunity to see what kind of goods the scoundrels were carrying. Lissa provided a magician’s light as they opened the boxes to reveal stolen goods of all kinds. Some even had traces of the unfortunate victims’ blood. Some people were truly terrible, Trevor thought, and he supposed he had met his share of them.
He wondered if anyone would consider him terrible. Trevor asked Brother Yvan for an objective opinion, but the cleric just laughed and went back to sewing up Reena’s wound. Trevor had never seen the cleric ever use such thin thread before.
The foursome rolled into the next town and asked for a good inn as soon as they could stop someone walking the streets after dark. When they secured the wagon and the horses, Trevor checked the stable for Bartell’s horse, but couldn’t find any animal close to the same markings of the highwayman’s mount.
The hour was far past to bother the local authorities, but Brother Yvan did tell the innkeeper they had survived an attack by robbers on the Northern Road almost an hour to the west. The innkeeper looked more tired than any of them and merely nodded as he took their money and took a seat behind the counter, propping up his feet, folding his arms, and closing his eyes.
“No food until morning,” Brother Yvan said to Lissa and Reena who were sitting in the inn’s tiny lobby.
“I’m not very hungry, anyway,” Reena said.
~
A female constable of some kind walked up to them as soon as they had been served breakfast.
“Are you folks the travelers who brought the wagon into the stable yard?” the woman said.
“We are,” Trevor said, munching on a crispy slice of fried bread.
“I have a man at the jail who says you stole the wagon.”
“His name is Bartell?” Brother Yvan asked.
The woman nodded.
Lissa volunteered to tell the woman the story of the attempted robbery. “We don’t want the wagon or its contents,” she said after telling the tale.
“But I will show you the clothing. Some of it is spattered with blood,” Trevor said. He had finished eating while Lissa told the story.
“Lead the way,” the woman said.
Trevor showed her the wagon and the boxes of loot. He pulled out some of the clothes. One of the items was a small girl’s dress. There were a few drops of blood decorating the bodice.
“Did Bartell mention having a little girl?” Trevor asked. “There aren’t any household goods that I could see, although it was already getting dark when they attacked us last night. We didn’t spend much time looking through this stuff.”
“He says you attacked his two drivers and his wife, killing them.”
Trevor smiled. “They introduced themselves
as Oliva Tanner and Bartell Ogman. They were partners, but not married. They were with two drivers but were joined by four guards. Two archers were ahead of us who shot from the trees, wounding Reena, just like Lissa said. If we were the thieves, we wouldn’t be so open about all this.”
“You intend on leaving the wagon?” the constable asked.
“We will drive it to your office on the way out of town. There is nothing we want. There might be something that others might have reported missing in the boxes,” Trevor said.
The constable gave Trevor directions to the office and they parted company at the stable.
Everyone was ready to go not long after breakfast. Reena looked a bit bothered by her wound, needed a little help with her bags, but they were on their way to the constable’s office. Brother Yvan and Trevor walked inside. There were three constables, including the woman who had interrogated them sitting at desks.
“We brought the wagon. Is Bartell around?”
“In the back,” one of the constables said. “Why don’t you identify him?”
The pair of them stepped through a door, and the two male constables shoved Trevor and Brother Yvan into a cell from behind.
“What is this?” Trevor said, as a constable put a ward on the door. He had to restrain a smile.
“You’ll be transported to the county magistrate’s manor within the hour.”
“What about our—”
There was a scuffle in the office area. Lissa and Reena walked in, pushing the woman ahead of them. “They are in on the thievery?” Lissa asked.
Trevor pushed open the door and slammed it into the two men while Brother Yvan took the woman and tossed her into the cell. The scuffle didn’t last long before the three constables were sitting behind bars with Reena’s ward securing the cell door.
They were about to leave when Bartell casually walked into the office. His eyes grew when he realized the constables weren’t in the office. He turned to run, but Reena threw a spell at him that made the robber collapse. He was left in another cell.
“We can’t trust anyone in this town,” Trevor said.
“But we might be able to at least advertise the honesty of the constables.”
They wrote on placards from a stack of thick paper and left the wagon with its contraband sitting in front of the constable’s office. The posters were handed out to the townspeople. At this point they could deal with the issue, or if they didn’t, Reena claimed the town would probably have to dismantle the cell doors to remove the constables and Bartell.
“Is there no justice?” Lissa asked Brother Yvan as they left the town.
“There is, but there are quite a few people who, if given the chance to be naughty, will choose the darker path. Dryden pities them,” Brother Yvan said.
Reena laughed. “Selara isn’t quite so tolerant,” she said. “She seeks out a beneficial equilibrium.”
Brother Yvan’s eyes lit up. “I sense an ecclesiastical discussion coming on,” he said with a smile. “I haven’t heard of the concept of beneficial equilibrium. I am familiar with Dryden’s justice. Is it similar?”
“Similar, but not quite the same. Good people work toward a solution where both parties are pleased with the results. That should be the case in every phase of life, from a parent-child relationship to merchants selling goods to their customers.”
“And should it apply to rulers?” Lissa asked.
“Especially rulers. Focuses are perpetually counseling Jarkanese kings and queens to exercise beneficial equilibrium. I think that King Turgul will do a better job of ruling by that philosophy than my queen did.”
“So easy to violate,” Brother Yvan said. He looked back at Trevor, riding with Lissa behind him. “Your father?”
“Naughty on a darker path, definitely,” Trevor said. “It isn’t a hard concept. That was what I was taught by Brother Yvan. Dryden would prefer you to do good in the world. I suppose the equilibrium part includes the gratitude of those you do good to.”
“It does,” Reena said. “Follow the principle and you’ll make a wonderful duke. Removing the stocks in Parkintown is an act that helped maintain beneficial equilibrium. You have to approach the concept realizing that it is a dynamic state, both in a social sense among others and in a personal sense in how you deal with ethical problems.”
“So I can exercise beneficial equilibrium among my family and not adhere to the concept as a constable who is in league with Northern Road robbers?” Lissa asked.
Reena smiled and nodded. “Yes, you could do just that.”
“Something to think about,” Brother Yvan said.
Trevor laughed. “You’ve told me much the same thing without labeling it a specific concept,” he said.
Brother Yvan rubbed his chin. “I suppose I have.” He gave Reena a playful look. “I’m glad we share the same outlook, my dear.”
Reena narrowed her eyes at the cleric. “On that point, anyway.”
Chapter Four
~
O nce off the Northern Road, the land turned mostly flat. The fields were tilled or filled with grazing animals. This was the heart of Okora’s agricultural prowess. Trevor was impressed. Not that much farther south, the land wasn’t as uniformly under cultivation. On the road between Listenwell and Jarkan, there were stretches of woods and unused terrain.
The towns that supported caravans of goods moving east to Grilla, Viksar, and Presidon were farther apart, but it seemed the group rode through villages every hour or two.
They stayed at a larger village claiming to be a half day away from Tiralina. Either Trevor’s map was drawn incorrectly or the claim wasn’t accurate. Lissa and he walked the streets in the late afternoon and passed a village marshal’s office. Trevor led Lissa through the door and asked to speak to the marshal. Once they were ushered into a tiny office, Trevor told the marshal about the robbers on the Northern Road and colluding constables.
“What can we do to help stop them?” Trevor said.
The marshal shrugged. “It looks like you’ve done about all you can do in the town. If you want more help, I’d see the Minister of Internal Affairs in Tiralina. Although the local towns and villages run their own enforcement offices, they are under the loose direction of Internal Affairs. I wouldn’t expect much in the way of help, but you can tell your story to her. There isn’t that much robbery between the Northern Road and Tiralina. Our criminals find easier venues to commit crimes. Tiralina isn’t the most secure city you will visit,” the marshal said.
“We need to be careful in the capital?”
“If you are there for a day or two, I suppose you can come away unscathed. Spend more time and the scam vultures will descend.”
“Scam vultures?”
“People who have taken misrepresentation of the truth to a high art.”
Trevor smiled. “I ran into a scam vulture in Bassington.”
“They exist everywhere, but Tiralina has more than its fair share.” Another marshal put their head through the open door.
“Fight at the Horn,” the interrupter said.
“If you will excuse me,” the marshal said, getting out of his seat. “Good luck.”
Trevor and Lissa exited the office and proceeded down the street. “Not as serene as I thought,” Lissa said, strolling down the wooden sidewalks, looking at the passersby.
“Parkintown wasn’t any different,” Trevor said. “I suppose it takes a lot of energy to reach the beneficial equilibrium that Reena talked about.”
“Effort to get there and effort to stay,” Lissa said.
They walked toward a market. Most of the stalls were closed, but there were plenty of food stalls open for Trevor to taste some of the local delicacies. It seemed that Okorans liked a lot of their food fried in oil. With all the livestock, Trevor guessed it was easier to get rendered fat than it was in most places.
The array of different foods battered and fried astounded both of them. They didn’t overeat, but neither of them ate with appetit
e at dinner.
“The marshal said that we could visit the Minister of Internal Affairs,” Trevor said.
Brother Yvan nodded. “I think we will visit the Okoran seer to get an invitation. You are doing the right thing spreading our story around. I would guess that most of those traveling with Oliva and Bartell never made it off the Northern Road.”
Trevor nodded. “Tomorrow, we will visit Tiralina, and then we can head to Jiksara.”
“I’m all for that. I miss my daddy,” Lissa said with a grin.
Trevor learned that the map was more accurate than the innkeeper. They plodded into Tiralina just before the sun set. Brother Yvan left them to find the Okoran seer, while they settled in for two nights in Okora’s capital. Trevor escorted Reena and Lissa through the streets of Tiralina. The buildings were mostly made of a brownish-red brick with some kind of bluish slate roofs. All the windows on the first two floors had iron bars, but Trevor noticed some six-story buildings.
What struck Trevor was the small size of the capital. It wasn’t much bigger than Parkintown. He didn’t know a reason for such a thing. Most capitals attracted people from the rural parts of the country, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Perhaps with a country of farmers and herders, there weren’t that many people. The place seemed wealthy enough. The city dwellers wore nice clothes in similar styles as countries to the east, and they seemed happy enough.
They turned down a street that faced a grassy square and quickly found they were in a theater district. There were three plays and a musical presentation that hadn’t started yet.
“Shall we listen to some music?” Reena asked. “I’d like to know what music sounds like in Okora. Yvan says Jarkanese music is unique.”
Unique sounded like something that Brother Yvan would say to cover for not liking Jarkanese music. Trevor could honestly say that his few brushes with Jarkanese music weren’t positive.
They paid for their entry fees and walked into a theater three-quarters full of patrons. They sat together as the theater filled up. At least the locals had showed up in force. Trevor hoped that was a good sign.