The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power

by C.L. Patterson

  Just inside the Gate of the capital city Noiknaer, teams of large, black scaled serpents snorted and chewed on metal bits with their flat, block like teeth. The bits were attached to steel harnesses that wrapped around their neck and shoulders and attached them to the wagons that they were about to pull across the desert sands. The lizards were twice as large as an ox, but as tame as a dog. They were called suon and were used in the country of Tessír as pack animals.

  The wagons were like boats, ranging from twenty to thirty feet in length with four wooden wheels with an open top. A seat for the driver was towards the front. A two-foot-wide walkway extended from the front of the wagon to the back. There were two ladders in each wagon, one just behind the driver’s seat and another at the back. The back of the wagon opened downward to create a ramp when the wagons were being loaded and unloaded. The inside of the wagon looked much like a merchant’s shop whose shelves were too crowded.

  Tessír bordered the ocean on its southern and eastern sides. To the north was Varlette. The seep that occurred sixteen years ago was still growing, but at a much slower pace. All but a few acres of tillable land remained, but were still too dangerous to farm. West of Varlette was the lost city of Olfstead, where many years before, another seep swallowed the town and surrounding area in a few moments.

  Luckily, a seer at the School of the Faye scried into the future, searching for another Seep. When the seep was spotted, there was ample time to evacuate the city and bring them to Noiknaer.

  To the west were the nearly impassible mountains, The Broken Blades. The Broken Blades stretched down from the north and continued southward, forming an isthmus between Tessír and the country of Caite.

  Caite exported corn, barley, wheat, oats and other agriculture products which were purchased from two groups within Tessír, the government and the Three Brothers Merchant Company, a syndicate of merchants that spread through the country like an army of ants. The government used gold and ores extracted from the mines of Linnouse, a city in the center of Tessír, to pay for the goods and then distributed them throughout the country, using much of what was considered excess to feed the poor and homeless.

  The Three Brothers were much more efficient than the government caravans in transporting grains around the country and in much higher volumes. The Three Brothers also purchased iron ore from Linnouse and timber from Caite, shipping it quickly to places where it was most needed, and receiving the highest prices.

  The suon stomped and shook their heads; the dark purple and green undertones of their scales shimmering in the sun. There were two caravans, consisting of thirty wagons, all filled with goods from the various schools of Noiknaer. Golden yellow and blue carafes, vases and bottles from the School of Pottery and Glass rattled as the suon moved the wagon forward slightly. Sharp and shining axe blades, hammers, nails, chisels and other tools from the Forge (a school for upcoming blacksmiths) and The Three Brothers’ Smith and Repair clinked together. The caravans also carried clothing, carpets, rugs and tapestries from weavers and artists.

  Twelve of the wagons waved the two banners of Tessír. One banner bore a red hammer and anvil embroidered on a white flag. The other showed a white fist grasping two stems of wheat on a red flag. The other eighteen wagons bore the emblem of the Three Brothers. Their flag was red, with two golden serpents spiraling around each other, facing each other with an open mouth; long, curved fangs exposed.

  At the front of the government caravan, one of the suon hissed and bit at his teammate. Scales crunched in his jaws, but no blood was drawn. The lead caravan driver dismounted from his seat and ran up to his beasts. He patted each of their necks. His touch seemed to calm the animals as they eased their breathing into slow, smooth, steady rhythms.

  “Seems your suon is nervous about the journey today,” called a driver from the Three Brothers. “Perhaps you should listen to him and stay home.” The government driver said nothing, but let out long, low tones next to the lizard’s eye.

  “Did you hear me driver? Stay home. You won’t make it. Leave the trading to real professionals,” the syndicate driver called. Other drivers of his company started laughing.

  “Hold your tongues!” someone called in a sharp voice. A band of six guards approached the government caravan, setting the giant lizards on edge a second time. Five were dressed in a white tunic and light chainmail. White cloth covered their faces, with a small slit for their eyes. Each carried a short saber at their hip and a shield tied to their back. The sixth sat upon a white horse and was also dressed in a white tunic, light-mail, plated armor, and wore a light grey hooded cape over his battle dress. He didn’t carry a shield. His hood was up and a white mask covered the lower part of his face, shielding his nose and mouth. A solid red mark was painted on the left cheek of his mask. It looked like two fangs drenched in blood with a blade resting on the top of them. A cutlass was sheathed on each hip.

  “What authority does the Guard have over us?” the driver from the Three Brothers asked. He wore a red shirt with gold buttons up the front. His hands were decorated with gemmed rings. The sunlight glared off his black polished boots. Silver rimmed goggles were attached to a leather strap that wrapped around his neck. The guard on the horse pulled up to the syndicate wagon and looked up at the driver.

  The horse carried his head high and the rider sat straight and tall in the saddle, his gray cloak flapping behind him in the wind. The guard pulled the sword on his right hip partially out of its sheath, showing a portion of the blade. He twisted it in the sun, showing its slight red tint.

  “I command my blade to cut and it obeys,” he said quietly, then re-sheathed his sword. “Your tongue would do well to remember that.” He turned away and the caravan of the Three Brothers moved towards the gate. The gatekeeper to the south of the gate flung his whip into the air, the loud crack carrying across the wind.

  On each side of the gate was metal gear with long metal bars sticking out of it. There wasn’t a bare spot of metal showing as prisoners, chained together and to the center of the cog, placed their hand on the steel rods. People were sent to the gate for theft, murder, blackmail, debt, and occasionally counterfeiting. As the prisoners pushed the gear, the gear pulled a chain connected to the Gate. The south side opened slowly, grinding against the stony ground.

  The criminals would be locked into the gears, forced to stand all day. At night, the criminals were shackled to walls inside the Gate house and given a square of hard bread and water, which was more than they could get in the streets. It was because of this promise of food that the gears were full, and why when the gatekeeper cracked his whip again, the gate opened with seemingly minimal effort.

  The drivers of the government caravan were completely covered in a grey, mesh-like cloth. Each had a set of dark goggles that was strapped with leather, and rested around their necks. The lead driver pulled away from his beasts and approached the guards.

  “Only six of you? This caravan is twelve long!” the caravan driver said.

  Nomads survived in the desert by wandering in search of water and food. The nomads raided what the caravans carried and killed the slow moving suon for food. It was because of the nomadic attacks that the poor starved in the cities and resorted to crime.

  “Our numbers are few, but you will be safe,” said one of the guards on foot. “Kosai, senior student, Wolf of the Capital Barracks is with us, as are the prayers of the city.” He pulled a pouch from his belt filled with short strands of string. The caravan driver looked at Kosai, and stepped closer to the guard with the pouch of string.

  “Are what they say about him true, that he killed more nomads than any other guard in history? Has he defeated a band without unsheathing his sword?” he whispered.

  “No,” the guard said. The caravan driver sighed and lowered his head. Then the guard continued. “He has done worse. His swords, when unsheathed, reflect a red tint from the permanent stain of innards. Though he is a student, without the Wolf, many of us would not be
here. He has saved us when the odds have seemed insurmountable. Be of good cheer, your caravan is in good hands.” The caravan driver looked up at Kosai one last time and then turned to his caravan. He whistled sharply, raised his hand above his head, swung it in a circle, and then took his seat in the lead wagon. The caravan moved out into the early morning with the five guards on their right and Kosai on their left.

  As the sun broke over the horizon, ground seemed to evaporate around them. Every few minutes the group stopped and drank from the water barrels that the caravan carried. They journeyed in silence as the sun passed slowly overhead.

  In the distance, the horizon disappeared in a watery haze. Sand peeled off sand dunes and rolled in the wind. A cold wind shifted towards them, stirring more sand into a brown and red cloud.

  “Cover up, sandstorm ahead!” the lead caravan driver yelled. The caravan halted and the drivers jumped down from their seats. Each pulled out a thick canvass from under the wagons. The guards helped throw the canvass over the wagon and tie it to the other side. After ensuring that all the corners of the canvass were tied and secured, the drivers released the suon.

  “What are you doing?” one of the guards asked.

  “In case there is something else in the storm, I wish for my animals to be able to defend themselves. Their thrashing will destroy the wagons and they could easily become tangled in the ropes,” the caravan driver said.

  Kosai got off the horse, led the animal between the first two wagons, helped the horse lay down and placed his head inside the protective canvass covering. One of the drivers slid inside and patted the horse’s neck. The five guards stood in a staggered line and looked at the storm. Satisfied with the horse, Kosai walked up to them and stood in the middle of the group. He took a step towards the growing storm. His two swords swayed and bumped his sides as the wind increased in speed.

  “Kosai, what do you see?” asked one of the guards. The sand storm continued towards them and then stopped a few paces away from the line of guards. Flecks of sand pelted them while the wind roared past. The red sand on the edge of the storm swirled and moved from right to left, forming a moving wall.

  “Stay with the caravan. This storm isn’t normal,” Kosai said.

  “Kosai, mind your place,” one of the guards said. “You are still a student. You and I will go into the storm, but only briefly. The rest of you keep watch.”

  “Aye sir,” the guards said in unison.

  Kosai was the Captain’s son and often took the lead in skirmishes against nomadic tribes. While he didn’t hold an official rank within the Guard, his courage, strength and skill were respected.

  Kosai drew his swords and entered the storm with the commanding guard following him. The inside of the storm was like a dense fog. Kosai could only see a few feet in front of him at a time. He tried to listen to his surroundings but heard only the high-pitched wind screaming around him. The red sand clung to his moist body, mixing with the sweat that covered his back, neck, and arms. He didn’t travel far into the storm before he found a boulder that was half as tall as he was and half covered in sand.

  “I found high ground!” Kosai called to the guard. Hearing nothing, he turned to find him, but the guard was out of sight. Kosai climbed it and stood on the top and searched for him.

  As he looked, shadows of three creatures darted around him in the storm. They were known as lindworms. They were five to seven feet long with rows and rows of needlelike teeth that curved backwards into the mouth. A few guards had been killed in the past after being bitten by the lindworm, suffering from blood poisoning caused by the creature’s saliva. If they were lucky, the wounded limb would be amputated. The scales of the lindworm posed another problem. They were small and thick, and as hard as scale male. Swords and spears could not penetrate the armor-like coat. The inside of the mouth was tender, as was their underside, and powerful down and upstrokes worked well against them.

  One of the desert lizards circled around Kosai and clawed at the rock. The Wolf raised his swords and swung them down on the lizard’s head. Each embedded in the creature’s skull, and as he pulled it out, blood sprayed upward. The creature twitched as the blood pooled and congealed with the sand. As he looked at his first kill, another lizard jumped from behind him and tackled him off the rock.

  While in mid fall, Kosai turned, tucked his legs into his chest and kicked the creature over his head. Kosai continued to turn and landed on his feet. The lizard recuperated from its fall and charged with an open mouth. The wolf side stepped and slashed with his right. The sword shattered the lizard’s teeth before dividing its head.

  The third lizard was off to Kosai’s left. It flicked its tongue and waited. Kosai walked slowly up to the lizard and raised his swords. Something struck his back and his ribs cracked with the impact. He wheezed as the air instantly left his lungs, and he fell on the sand. He tried to push himself up and screamed as pain shot though his chest. The sword that he held in his left hand was knocked away from him but he still held the other in his right. He used his legs to roll himself onto his back. A black hooded figure stood over him, but it was not a nomad.

  A black turban was wrapped around his head and face. Two amber eyes peered at Kosai. His cloak was shredded and torn. Metal plates covered his shoulders, elbows, knees and wrists; sharp, thorn-like points protruding from the middle of them. Plated gloves covered his hand with sharpened points at the fingertips. In his right hand, he held a long club with brass spheres embedded into the wood. A glass vial filled with a black substance was attached to a leather strap which was wrapped around the figure’s left hand. His body was wrapped in a black robe. Dark ethereal tendrils flowed around him.

  He raised the club above his head. Kosai screamed past the pain and stabbed upwards with his sword. The blade sank into the torso of the figure, but it felt as if he was stabbing at air. The figure laughed and struck his club down across the sword. The blade snapped in half and the figure pulled out the portion of the blade that was in him. Kosai expected to find blood tracing the sharp edge of the blade, but found none.

  He grabbed is shoulder and began to push himself away with his legs. The hooded figure took the broken blade and threw it down at Kosai, puncturing his left thigh just above the metal armor, and went through and through. Kosai screamed again and grabbed his leg with one hand just above the wound. With the other, he grabbed the blade and attempted to pull it out. As the figure walked slowly closer, Kosai jerked the blade free and held it tightly in his hand. The sharp edge sliced into the crevices of his fingers, drawing jagged streams of blood.

  The hooded figure walked closer and planted his pointed boot onto Kosai’s chest. Kosai slashed at the dark figure, this time connecting and drawing a black cut across the figures leg. The figure hissed, growled, and raised his club again. The wolf switched the blade into an underhanded position and slashed at the figure’s falling arm. The strike connected. The figure recoiled, dropped his club and grabbed his wrist. A stream of purple lightening snapped and crackled around the black vial and quickly faded.

  Sand continued to blow around them. The hooded figure made no noise as it slowly backed away and disappeared in the storm. Quickly, Kosai looked around him, checking his surroundings for anymore of the lindworm. He could see a single shadow slowly slithering towards him. Its tail and head rocked side to side as it flicked its tongue, tasting the gritty air.

  He turned onto his belly and held the broken sword blade upright. The lizard stopped and slowly turned its head to one side and then the other. Then it looked in his direction and rushed towards him. The sound of the lizard’s claws tearing across the ground could be heard above the howling wind.

  The lizard appeared out of the brown haze with an open jaw, showing its sharp, curled teeth. The wolf sliced at the open jaw, cutting deeply into the corner of the creature’s mouth. It hissed and began to circle around the wounded Kosai. A surge of energy, driven by fear gave him the strength to turn on the coarse
ground, keeping his head pointed towards the lizard.

  The lindworm inched closer and swatted Kosai with his claw. Instinctually, the wolf raised the blade to intercept the attack. The sharp talons of the creature tore into his forearm and dug deeply into his flesh. Kosai’s arm tensed in pain. The lindworm swatted at the sword, and knocked it away. It took another step closer and swiped at the wolf with the other claw. Kosai lifted his arm to protect his head. His bloodied forearm was batted away, the lizard’s talons passing just over his head.

  The lizard lunged with his open, bloody mouth. Kosai clenched his right hand and swung at lizard’s head, hitting him in the eye, but the lizard was undeterred. The razor like teeth sank into his left shoulder.

  Kosai screamed and struck again, but the lizard did not loosen his bite. He was losing feeling in the injured arm and could feel the vast amounts of blood draining onto his skin. Time was running out.

  Kosai straightened his two of his fingers in his right hand and jabbed them into the hard-black eye of the lizard. The eye collapsed and Kosai began to pull on the creature’s eye socket. The lizard shrieked and released Kosai’s shoulder, ripping small chunks of flesh from his shoulder and ran into the storm.

  The storm passed as soon as the lizard vanished. He was a few paces away from the caravan and the guard that entered the storm with him. Kosai screamed in pain as the adrenaline faded. The guards and the lead caravan driver rushed up to him.

  “When you said he spilled blood, I wasn’t expecting his own,” the caravan driver said accusingly.

  “Silence trader,” Kosai muttered. The guards carefully rolled Kosai onto his back. He coughed and choked.

  “Kosai, what happened?” the guard asked. Kosai didn’t respond. The caravan driver faced the wagon and placed his arms above his head in an “X”. The other drivers looked at the wounded guard eagerly for a moment, and then jumped from their seats into their wagons. Each came to the lead driver with medical supplies. The driver unstopped a bottle filled with light brown liquid, held Kosai’s head up and forced the fluid down his throat. Kosai groaned and twitched in pain, and fell unconscious.

  The other drivers removed Kosai’s shirt and bandaged his shoulder. A tourniquet was tied just above the leg wound. Another, darker brown liquid was forced down Kosai’s throat and the remainder was poured over the already bloody bandages.

  “Quick, bring me his horse,” the guard said to one of the drivers. The horse was brought, and the guard lifted him over his shoulder, mounted the horse, and carefully sat Kosai in front of him on the saddle.

  “Now only four?” the lead caravan driver exclaimed.

  “These four will aid you well. I doubt that you will have any trouble,” the guard said. “If there is a beast that can injure this man, I would assume locals would steer clear of it. My advice is to follow the storm if you can. Travel well.” He kicked the horse and rode off towards Noiknaer.

  Once at the capital city, blood oozed through the bandages and shirt. Silence was left in the wake of the horse as the two raced down Outer Road, towards the Barracks. The few people they came across plucked strings from their shirts and tossed them towards the guards as they passed.

  Guards and students of the Barracks surrounded the horse on his arrival and carefully lowered Kosai into their arms. The Captain approached the group as they carried Kosai up the stairs. He wore a white shirt, chainmail, black trousers and brown boots. Silver clasps connected his grey cape to the shoulders of his shirt.

  “What happened?” he asked. The guard that had brought Kosai from the desert approached the man.

  “Captain, I would prefer to explain it in private,” the guard said. The Captain gave him a stern look and at the same time, signaled for Kosai to be brought inside.

  “Take him to the medical wing. You, come with me,” the Captain said to the guard who had brought Kosai. He led him into the Barracks and a little way past the medical wing.

  “Explain yourself in full detail. Leave nothing out,” the Captain whispered.

  The guard explained the unusual sand storm that stopped yet continued to turn in front of them. He explained how Kosai had he went into the storm, but lost sight of him shortly after. When the storm cleared, he was bloody.

  “The wounds are lindworm bites, but he has killed more than any of us can recall of those beasts,” the guard said. The Captain was silent for a moment, staring down at the ground and breathing evenly.

  “I understand your willingness to trust Kosai, but walking into the storm was foolish! You should have ordered him to stay with the caravan. None the less, what’s done is done.” The Captain paused and sighed. “The storm itself was unnatural. I will take audience with the Council this afternoon and bring up this issue. You are dismissed.”

  “Captain, what about the caravan, they are already short two guards.”

  “You’re dismissed,” the Captain said shortly. The guard saluted and walked away.

  CHAPTER 2