by Guy Antibes
“I don’t see why unless he volunteered and knew what was going to happen. He knows you are a gold and who I am,” Trevor said. “I’m sure we’ll know soon.” He looked at Lissa. “Put on the cleric’s robe. Someone might think you are our host in the church.”
“Host,” Lissa snorted. She donned the robe, and they walked out of the church. Unlike their walk from the inn, there were screams and sounds of fighting punctuating the valley’s air.
“Which way did Potur go?” Trevor asked.
“That way, I’m almost sure.”
“Almost might not be good enough,” Trevor said.
“It’s going to have to be,” Lissa said as she took Trevor’s hand and began walking toward the lakeside of the village.
After walking past a few of the winding lanes, Lissa spotted Potur’s horse. They hadn’t been confronted yet, but that was going to change as Trevor saw the point of a sword protrude from a doorway a few paces ahead. He pushed Lissa against the wall.
“I won’t be a minute,” Trevor said.
A smuggler walked out and immediately spotted Trevor, holding onto his sword.
“You don’t look like a villager,” the man said, snarling.
“I’m just passing through, just like you are,” Trevor said.
“The only passing through will be this,” the smuggler waggled his sword, “through you.” He ran to the attack.
Trevor played with the man. He wasn’t close to Trevor’s ability. The fight was short, and when it was over, Trevor dragged the smuggler into the cottage from where he came. A young man and a young woman’s body was on the floor while a little baby cried in its cradle. Trevor quickly looked through the cottage. The couple couldn’t have had much, yet this marauder took what they had and killed them. He guessed the child would have been as good as dead if they hadn’t been in the village.
“We have work to do,” Trevor said. “Be merciless,” he began as he described what happened inside. The criminals had come to loot. They weren’t smugglers.
They kept to one side of the lane and looked in the window where Potur’s horse was tied. The scout was tied to a chair while one of the thugs was in the act of asking questions. Potur had evidently been resisting. Trevor kicked in the door. There were four marauders in the room, two with weapons out.
“Get the ones closest to Potur,” Trevor said to Lissa as he fought the two armed men.
This fight was on another level since the pair were experienced swordsmen. One of them tried to use magic to speed up, but Trevor’s practice months ago in Jilgrath with Volst’s fencing club had prepared him to defeat the man while sustaining only a small cut that he was aware of, while he kept the other man at bay. The fight went back out on the street. This brigand didn’t need speed to show how much better he was than his companion.
Trevor drew out his long knife when the other man did, and the fight went on. Trevor tripped and dropped his sword. He was on the ground waving his long knife when his opponent pulled his sword back and promptly fell over Trevor.
Once Trevor pushed his assailant off, Lissa leaned down, offering a hand. “You told me to be merciless. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Our work isn’t done yet. How is Potur?” Trevor asked.
“Retrieving his favorite sword,” The scout said from inside the cottage. He walked out, buckling his sword belt. “These aren’t smugglers. Smugglers won’t kill the villagers that help them. I’ve lost some friends today. Do you mind if we do a little police work?”
“Not at all,” Trevor said. He looked at Lissa, who nodded back at him.
Trevor was generally on the other side when he dealt with guards or police or constables. The fighting began to intensify as they made their way back toward the inn. They had taken care of six of the robbers, but there were perhaps three times that many fighting on the village streets.
There were magicians on both sides, but the only one using lightning spells was Lissa. Trevor guessed that one or both of the other magicians interrogating Potur were the better magicians since Lissa had been just as merciless with them as she was with the others.
The fighting ended, and the villagers won. Potur, Trevor, and Lissa accounted for more than half of the dead enemy. The villagers made sure that none of the attackers would be alive to face a magistrate.
“What happened?” Trevor asked Potur.
“My interrogators told me more than I told them. They were under the pay of the Maskumites, and with the anticipated arrival of General Henkari at the border, they were going to use this atrocity as a lure. The Maskumites were to set up an ambush not far from here.”
“It might still happen,” Trevor said. He looked at the innkeeper. “Can you send someone to the garrison with a message?” Trevor said.
“Why do you need a message, messenger?” Lissa said.
“I didn’t think,” Trevor said, biting his lip. “Where do you think the ambush will be?”
The innkeeper told him that the fake cleric’s information about the border moving was correct, so there were two possibilities, an ambush along the track that they had taken or one between the new guard post and the village.
“Send someone the fastest way. There are probably scouts around, but I’ll let Henkari know what is happening before your man arrives so he can prepare.”
Trevor took Lissa and Potur into an empty stable. “I’m going to teleport to the garrison and back. You can stay here and help the villagers get ready for whatever happens. We’ll be back in less than an hour.”
“Teleport?” Potur said as Trevor grabbed Lissa’s wrist.
~
“I need to see General Henkari,” Trevor said, walking through the gate.
“He is speaking to our colonel and the crown prince.”
“Show us the way,” Trevor said.
The colonel’s office was full of officers, Volst, Akku, and the general.
“You came back!” Henkari said. “Something is wrong. That is blood on you?”
Trevor told them about the attack on the village and the setup of the ambush. “The villagers didn’t let any of the robbers live, so we couldn’t talk to any of them. We are heading back. Do you have any questions?”
“How many robbers?”
“Over twenty,” Lissa said. “We needed to help the villagers, or they would have been overcome.”
“Then go. I have enough to come up with a strategy. The Maskumites will not be happy when we show up,” General Henkari said as he pounded his hand on the desk.
~
The cleanup had barely begun when Lissa and Trevor returned to the village. The villagers had found a few more of the attackers, and Potur had taken it upon himself to become the interrogator.
“It’s only fair,” Potur said, rubbing his knuckles.
Trevor looked at the man tied up in a chair in a storage room at the inn.
“Lissa can help,” Trevor said. “Have him repeat the answers he’s given you.”
They eventually found out that the marauders were volunteers from the Maskumite regular army. The Maskumite force camped in the next valley to the west, waiting for Henkari to arrive at the village.
“And the border shift?” Trevor asked.
“As cover for our army,” the captive said.
“Our trip was well-timed,” Potur said once he handed the Maskumite over to the villagers.
“Dryden works where he will,” Lissa said.
“I guess Dryden is following you,” Potur said.
Trevor sighed. “I’m the one who is supposed to follow Dryden.”
The information meant another quick trip to General Henkari. Trevor left the general with the officer’s urging to continue on his way before the border closed.
Trevor would have rather stayed to fight the ambushing Maskumites, but he was explicitly told that Henkari was quite capable of dealing with the situation. Trevor knew that to be accurate, having worked with Henkari in Argara.
The three of them lef
t the village heading south. Not far from the village, Potur took them off the main road and on a path east of the road.
“Not only will we bypass another border outpost, but we will be staying away from the Maskumite troops to the west of us,” Potur said.
“Has this strategy been employed by the Maskumites before?”
Potur shook his head. “Everyone sets up ambushes when hostilities get hot, but laying waste to a peaceful village? No. You’ll remember the Maskumite said the army asked for volunteers. There are good Maskumites as well as the swine who attacked the village. I’m sure our general is getting worried.”
Trevor looked at the ambush as a significant provocation. His hope that he could get in and out of Khartoo before a formal war was declared might not be realistic, and he wondered if he was too late in getting Brachian troops to the border in time to do any good. Still, Trevor remained convinced he had to take the time to learn more about the Maskumites.
The track stopped at a clearing. On the other side, Trevor could see a wider road. “We have circumvented the main road through the mountains?”
Potur gave Trevor a knowing smile. “We didn’t have to come out so soon, but we can make much better time on the road.” They rode through the clearing and onto the gravel road. “This gets rolled every few weeks, or it would be a rutted mess up here,” Potur said.
A few hours later, they emerged from the forest into a small town. The roofs were flat with holes in the plaster for draining. The nicer homes had decorative holes. The walls extended up so you couldn’t see the roofing material. The look was different from anything Trevor had seen in his travels. As they rode onto flat cobbles, Trevor noticed that many men were as tall as him and the women were much taller than Lissa.
“See? You can fit in here,” Potur said. “There is a little inbreeding in this town, but they are known throughout Maskum for their height. I know someone who can supply you with an identity token from here.”
They checked into an inn. The roof was pitched without the holes, but the inn was four stories high.
“Stay in your rooms until I return,” Potur said.
“I’ll be in Trevor’s room after I settle,” Lissa said.
Potur lifted an eyebrow. “Suit yourself,” he said with a smile.
Lissa watched him leave the inn with narrowed eyes. “I know what he’s thinking, but I think you need to bring the head seer current.”
Trevor imitated Potur’s lifted eyebrow and smiled. “Suit yourself,” he said.
Lissa shoved him playfully, and in a few moments, she sat down at a small table in Trevor’s room.
“Let’s see if anyone will talk to us,” Trevor said. “If they won’t, we’ll visit Ginster.”
Lissa frowned. “You shouldn’t depend on your teleportation.”
“If I can use the rings, I can teleport,” Trevor said.
He took both her hands in his and closed his eyes. The head seer replied to Trevor’s greeting.
“I’m not in a convenient place to talk, but if you make it quick,” Lister Vale said.
Trevor told him about their trip to the border and the Maskumites’ attempt to slaughter a village to draw General Henkari into a trap.
“You, of all people, need to be careful,” Lister Vale said. “I must go, but I will talk to Yvan about your information. You are truly doing Dryden’s work.”
Trevor broke the connection. He didn’t entirely believe the remark about Dryden’s work, but arriving at the village at the beginning of all the violence was an astonishing coincidence, even though everything had been set into motion by Henkari’s arrival at the border.
“How much farther to Khartoo?” Lissa asked.
“Potur knows. From what I remember on the map, less than half a week if we stay on the road. Then we will spend what time we can collecting information as only you can do,” Trevor said.
“Me? Am I that important?” she said coyly.
“You are to me,” Trevor said. “In any number of ways.”
“Name a few,” she said.
“You allow me to communicate. You allow me to teleport. I rely on you to protect me magically. And then there is your presence by my side,” Trevor said.
“What about my presence?” Lissa leaned forward, cupping her chin in her palms.
“It soothes me,” Trevor said.
“Soothe. That is a novel way to be important. Does kissing soothe you too?” Lissa asked.
“It is part of the soothing,” Trevor said. He reached out and took her hands. “I could use a little soothing right now before Potur returns.” He stood and pulled her to him. They looked into each other’s eyes and kissed.
The door opened, and Potur barged in. The scout stopped immediately. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is a development.”
Lissa rolled her eyes. “There always is.”
Potur tried to withhold a grin. “A smuggling caravan is leaving town in less than an hour. They will travel to the next village and spend the night there. It has guards from this town. I can’t think of a better cover.” He plunked down two plates with letters stamped into the metal. “I hope you don’t mind your names. I didn’t have the time to return to consult you.”
Trevor looked down to see one with Des Boxster, and Lissa now had the last name of Lott.
“You are my sister for the next week,” Potur said. “Des, here, is your suitor.” Potur grinned. “Doesn’t it fit well?”
“You are using your real name?” Trevor asked.
“I’ve never had my cover revealed in Maskum. Why not?” Potur said. “Besides, I’m known as a smuggler, myself.”
“I suppose I do not need to open my bags,” Lissa said.
“I’ll help you with them, Sister,” Potur said.
Soon, they were meeting the others in the caravan. Maskumite smugglers moved in the open, it seemed. There were eight wagons and twenty-two people, twenty-five with them.
“You expect trouble?” Trevor asked the caravan leader.
“No. I find if I’m prepared for trouble, it rarely finds me, but if I’m not, I will almost certainly be caught out.”
“I can see that,” Trevor said.
“You carry a Jarkanese ceremonial sword,” the leader said.
Trevor grinned. “You noticed. I found it in a barrel somewhere. It’s had some modifications.”
The leader shrugged. “I wouldn’t know other than recognizing the general shape. Potur said you know how to use it.”
“He’s seen me in action. It doesn’t keep me from getting injured,” Trevor showed him the bound cuts on his arms from his fight at the lake village.
The leader grinned. “But what happened to your opponents? Potur said you defeated all you faced.”
“That is the purpose of a sword fight. Kill or be killed,” Trevor said. “I don’t fight someone who doesn’t take a swing at me.”
“So Dryden-like,” the leader said. “Still, as long as you defend my caravan, you can travel with us.”
Trevor nodded. “I’ll do my part if we are attacked.”
The leader nodded and went about his business. Trevor stayed back with Lissa and Potur while everyone made final preparations, and soon the caravan moved south along the good road. Trevor looked back at the town, disappearing among the trees.
“Who attacks a caravan with so many people?” Trevor asked Potur as they ambled along.
“Brigands have bands up to fifty, but they don’t operate on this road. If they did, the Maskumite army would hunt them down. This is a free road. If we don’t cause trouble, there shouldn’t be any more trouble. That is why I jumped at the chance to join them. There is more peril if we travel alone.”
“And that happens?” Lissa asked.
“Banditry, bribery, and betrayal are endemic to Maskumite life, but there are consequences if evildoers go too far. They lose their heads,” Potur said.
“He told us the truth,” Lissa said quietly, leaning over toward Trevor.
; Trevor didn’t need Lissa to discern Potur’s description of life in the caravan other than the beheading aspect. There was more bribery and betrayal in the world than Potur might imagine.
Chapter Fifteen
~
A lthough Trevor feared arrest by the Maskumite authorities at any time, the caravan was only hours from Khartoo. The road had begun its descent the previous day, and Trevor looked up at the overcast sky. The air seemed heavier, and the plants and trees were different from what they had ridden through for the past days.
“We part company with the caravan here,” Potur said, tossing purses to Trevor and Lissa. “Our agreed-on payment. I’ve already counted it. Now we have Maskumite money to spend. Follow me.”
They trotted past the caravan and other travelers on the much busier road until they were alone on the road before Potur took them through a dense thicket of trees. The caravan wouldn’t know they had turned off.
“Keep at it. We have to be on the other side of Khartoo before nightfall.”
Trevor nodded. How could a city be so large that one side was half a day away and the other was almost the same distance farther? Later in the morning, he received his answer when they crested a low hill to see a long city protected by an undulating wall. Not too far away, Trevor saw something he had missed in his life. A thick line of blue separated the sky from the land. Trevor smiled as he looked at the sea.
“I’ve never been to the sea before,” Trevor said.
Lissa smiled. “I have once, but not in Maskum. We went through Kyria down through Sirland to the ocean. My father used a meeting with the Sirland seer as an excuse to get away from Viksar when Hamel Rorsik kicked him out of the old church. Father had set up a group to design a new church, and we left. He didn’t want to walk around feeling angry all the time. The ocean looks the same to me.”
“No one has moved it, to my knowledge,” Potur said, smiling. “Khartoo is long and narrow, hugging the bay from east to west. If the wind is favorable, it is easier to get from one side of the city on a boat.”
Trevor guessed the city must be all of twenty miles wide. “It is faster to travel around than through?”
Potur nodded. “It is, plus I don’t like entering the city with a smuggler’s caravan. You might find the amount in your purses cut in half from the guards’ greedy little hands. Besides, the magicians congregate on the west side, and my contacts live in the eastern part of the city.” He urged his horse on as they rode down onto flat lands.