A Clash of Shadows (8 page)

Did I look like that when I first got it?
she thought and smiled at the boy’s awestruck face.

She swung it through the air a few times to indulge him... and perhaps to show off a bit, then sheathed it.

“Have you fought?” he asked and seemed quite delighted by her.

“I slew a dragon last year,” she said. “My shoes are made of its hide.”

She saw Serdra out of the corner of her eye a few times as evening drew closer. She aided when asked to and responded to questions but didn’t engage much and people seemed to seek Katja more out for conversation.

If that’s how she wants it. I suppose she doesn’t need the practice
, Katja thought just before repeating the story of their destination for the eighth time.

Finally everything was ready. Families gathered on benches around the pyre that had been piled up and Serdra and Katja were shown to seats. Two men opened the first beer barrel and spread mugs around.

Jonas, clearly a patriarch, stepped up on a mound where all could see him and gave a familiar speech about the summer as the peak of life. About a time for lovers and family and for remembering forebearers and all the things life had to offer.

The villagers cheered politely, though Katja felt she detected a good-natured impatience with getting to the feast itself. She wasn’t the only one peeking at the people tending the cooking over the fire.

“Let us eat, celebrate and live!” the man finally said and the people and Katja cheered.

Grilled goat meat was served with potatoes and chives. Katja attacked the meat with vigour, glad for hot food and drank the first beer with relish. When she saw the villagers doing the same she shamelessly had another right away.

The meat was perhaps not as good as it would have been at the homestead, nor was the beer, but Katja was still satisfied. She didn’t know these people and the feast was more spartan than the one she had hoped for, but at least she got to enjoy the Summer Celebration. People laughed and sang and some men took out a harp and a flute and played.

Once people had recovered a bit from the gorging and were deeper in their cups the benches were moved and dances ensued. Katja hesitated at first but then joined these strangers and leapt about along with them.

She danced with a little girl with pigtails and enormous eyes. She danced with a man in his twenties with a worker’s hands and neat chin beard. She danced with a grandmother with a little one in her arms and a scar across the nose. The pregnant girl took a few clumsy steps and Katja jumped a bit with her before she retired.

The sword got in the way a bit, but Serdra had ever insisted on the rule to never disarm and Katja had gotten used to managing the weapon during all activities.

She took the occasional break to rest, drink more beer or join in song. It was during a drinking break that Serdra caught her gaze from a few metres away. The woman tapped her sword with a meaningful look. Katja had to concentrate through the haze of drink and joy for a moment to get the message.

We will need our strength.

Katja sighed.

True
.

The hour was growing late. And they would set out at sunrise.

Katja had one final half mug and strolled towards their host’s house. She tried not to fall into surliness. This had been a good and unexpected stop. Best to focus on that. Serdra joined her shortly after and they settled in.

She fell asleep with surprising ease, after drinking, a hearty meal and simply due to having a roof over her head.

The villagers were dazed in the morning and they bid farewell to the half-waking family that had housed them with gratitude, took a bit of grilled meat for the road and led the horses out of the Twigs.

--------------------

The way to the sea lay along a narrow path that snaked back and forth in the wild nature and was in fact quite reminiscent of the highland path.

Katja briefly wondered what else could hide in this ancient forest, but her thoughts were mostly occupied with the Sensing as well as the feeling welling up within her.

They reached their destination in the afternoon.

Bag Harbour was a small creek well protected from winds and the sea and so was perfect for storing a boat. They rode to the farm by the beach and knocked on the door.

A weather, scrunch-faced man of about fifty years answered. He opened his mouth to say something but then looked them over.

Katja moved the cloak enough for him to glimpse the sword.

The man nodded.

“I am Geir Anson. I received the payment yesterday,” he said in a rough voice. “My ship is ready. Are you?”

“Yes,” Serdra said. “Let’s set off as quickly as possible.”

“Very well,” Geir said and shouted into the house.

It took him very little time to gather a five-man crew and throw a little bit of prepared supplies on the ship.

Maron’s payment had among other things covered discretion and an absence of questions. Katja saw the men give her a few curious glances, but no more than that. Perhaps Maron had chosen them because they were used to transporting people in secret.  

Katja and Serdra led the horses on board along a gangway and arranged them in the cargo hold. They bound their feet and placed the luggage in a small compartment by the spot reserved for the two of them.

The men pushed away from land, rowed out of the creek and then raised the sails. They didn’t seem to need any help and didn’t ask for any. Katja took it as an opportunity to relax and gather strength after the ride. She would be needing her strength, after all.

The feeling had been with her ever since leaving the village. And now that she had set foot on the ship’s boards it was as if she had stepped over some kind of threshold. Something ill was in the air.

“Playtime is over,” she muttered to herself as the wind grabbed the sails and sent them north.

8.

They spoke little during the journey. There was little privacy to be had on board and bribery or no there was still no reason to give the sailors something to tell people about.

Katja noticed that Serdra paid close attention to the men as they did their on-board tasks. She suddenly recalled the woman mentioning that she didn’t know much about sailing. Perhaps she was trying to expand her knowledge base even further.

I wonder what else she hasn’t learned over all that time. Glass cutting? Harp playing?

Katja satisfied herself with alternating between snuggling in her cloak and tending the horses. The day passed without incident and the novelty of being out at sea rather quickly became boredom.

She made a few attempts at scrying. She sensed unrest and a slumbering evil. None of this was new. She just felt it better than before. But there was also fear in the air. Tension. Opposing forces facing one another. And conflict. She felt conflict so strongly it had to be inevitable.

Katja stopped when it became clear she wouldn’t dig up anything more and got tired of feeling twitches of future battles in her limbs.

Once darkness fell she went to the bow to check for land, but the winds were evidently not on their side today. Katja sighed and went back. She looked forward to seeing new places.

“Well,” Serdra said quietly as Katja arranged herself next to her. “What do you know about Farnar?”

“The thief country itself?” Katja looked out at the sea. “Is what one hears about it true, or are those exaggerations like most other interesting things?”

“There has long been great inequality there. A lot of poor, desperate people and great wealth stowed in chests.”

“Yes, I understand the country is rather a mess and has been ever since they kicked out the Stonefooters.”

“Tell me about it,” Serdra said.

Always tests
, Katja thought.

“Torgeir Stonefoot conquered great territories up north and restored order after the Dissolution,” she said out loud. “He declared himself king and established a new system based on inherited power. His descendants then continued his work and established the Stonefoot Power.”

Katja stretched where she sat.

“Which of course eventually fell apart, as all things seem to do.”

“Everything comes to an end,” Serdra said. “And everything is related to something else in the chain of time.”

The woman watched her. Katja knew what message she was delivering, even though she couldn’t say so out loud around the sailors.

And it is important for us to know such relations. Our battle for the future is fought on the foundations of the past.

Katja nodded her understanding. She then looked away and retreated into her own thoughts for a bit.

As she learned more she understood ever better how true that was. Farnar would probably be a completely different land today if Stonefoot’s greedy heirs hadn’t extended their claws south to Farnar in search of precious metals. And if they hadn’t then been pulled down from their thrones in a bloody uprising that still didn’t quite destroy the strict noble system the Clan of Roses had brought with it.

Why is nothing simple?

“But yes, Farnar is by accounts a mix of what w... what I am used to and the northern nobility system. And retains strong connections to the Stonefoot lands, despite waging constant wars with them.”

“I wouldn’t say constant,” Serdra said. “But no few dukes and kings have tried to repeat the successes of the Clan of Roses. Mercenaries make good profits up north.”

“Indeed,” Katja said. They had had indirect experiences with Farnar’s mercenaries last year.

“But the country is split into counties ruled by lords. They inherit their power just like the northern nobility but vote for a chancellor to rule the capital and keep the whole thing together. They can maintain their own armies, but also make significant use of mercenaries to guard their territories.”

“The river that moves produce between the city and the north passes through several territories and has been fought over no few times. The amount of available jobs for labourers is always in flux and Farnar receives a lot of drifters from other lands, causing poverty among the bottom classes and various difficulties. Which in turn leads to harsh penalties. Farnar has after all been called the land of axes and ladders.”

Serdra nodded. Apparently this would suffice for now. They could go into details in private.

--------------------

Katja awoke in the morning by the time they were close to land.

Farnar City was large. The city itself stretches far along the shore and sported a surprising amount of tall buildings. Outside of the defensive wall suburbs continued the spread, vanishing into the distance.

Plenty of people to hide among
, Katja thought.
For us and others.

The sailors drew down the sails and rowed the final stretch into the harbour.

Katja glimpsed an enormous chain which apparently was for closing the harbour in the night, just as in Amerstan. Guardsmen in highly noticeable red and blue clothes strolled about with spears in hand. And by the western end of the harbour she saw the great river that moved goods far into the north.

The men docked by one of many wooden docks, bound the boat and extended a ramp. By law ships of this size were only allowed to dock in the harbour. The captain had mentioned that a ship could be concealed in certain places, but that cost extra.

Geir Anson was the first to step off. The harbour master greeted him and received docking payment. Katja also noticed that Geir handed him a little extra, which vanished into the harbour master’s jacket. It wasn’t very overt, but evidently there wasn’t reason to be very subtle about it either.

Katja and Serdra led the horses off board. Farnar earth felt exactly the same under one’s soles as that of other places but Katja was nevertheless aware of being in a different country. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t because of the evil ambience hanging in the air.

Well then, Farnar,
Katja thought and ran her eyes over everything in sight.

The harbour was not dissimilar to the one in Amerstan City, though bigger and even more teeming with life. Most of the houses were old. The harbour was after all a major organ to a city such as this. The architectural style and materials were quite familiar and aside from the far greater abundance of various decorations this could almost be an unexplored part of Amerstan City.

“We can relax here for a week,” the captain said to them. “If you want more time we will have to renegotiate.”

“Where will we find you?” Serdra asked.

“There will always be one guarding the ship,” Geir said. “The rest you will typically find at the Harp.”

Katja found it almost strange to see him grin.

“There is little reason to go anywhere else,” he added.

“Let us start by finding a place to stay,” Serdra said and pointed at their luggage.

Katja nodded and they walked along the docks. Katja examined the boats they passed. Fishing boats, merchant vessels and even a few war ships and various shapes and sizes formed an honour guard for them.

They passed a large, old wooden house decorated with crab shells and various broken fishing tools. A shingle with a picture of a harp hung above the door and smell of drink extended out onto the street. Katja glanced at Serdra but refrained from stating the obvious. There they would find the sailors.

There were no Shades in Farnar City so they would have to find somewhere to stay on their own. Renting quarters near the docks would suit them best and Katja needed only to look to either side to see plenty of options. But having a room to themselves would also suit them best and most of the harbour inns were tailored more to crews than individuals. And they would need a place with stables.

“Do you remember anything suitable?” Katja asked quietly as she watched two guardsmen with spears pass by.

“I never got to know the harbour well,” Serdra answered. “And it has been seventeen years.”

Around the time they stopped smelling fish they arrived at an inn apparently named the Pig’s Head, going by the picture on the shingle. It was two stories, well built and rather large and much of the lower floor was used for a stable where a boy was tending to three donkeys.

“You do the talking,” Serdra whispered and they entered.

The host was tall and rake-thin and clearly knew how to make people feel welcome. Katja asked for a private room for the two of them and preferably with a window that could be opened. He happened to have such a room available and wasted no few words on how lucky they were. Then he called for the boy and ordered him to tend to the horses.

Serdra paid for one week without much comment and they took their luggage and followed the host to the upper floor. There were eight rooms and he led them to the end of a hallway. Their room was just next to a small balcony. The man put great effort into assuring them of the safety of the inn and pointed to the sturdy bar that could be put before the balcony door.

Katja felt he was rather exaggerating, but had to admit breaking in seemed to at least be difficult.

He opened the door for them, gave them a warm welcome and went back down.

“I like the looks of this place,” Serdra said after going over the room and Katja agreed. The door was sturdy and a bolt could be slid into the handle and the wall beneath the window shutter was smooth and faced a residential area.

They arranged the luggage on the floor. There was little point in hiding it. No burglar would neglect looking under the bed. They did at least store the armour shirts and helmets at the bottom so the innkeepers wouldn’t spot them.

“We will start by asking around here in the city,” Serdra said. “Let’s at least get a rough picture of what happened, as well as what is going on in the country. Then we will venture beyond the wall and look at the site itself. We will probably need to await nightfall to do so safely. But circumstances will decide.”

“Let’s head out,” Katja said.

They fetched the horses from the boy and led them north.

--------------------

Houses in Farnar were generally well built and well maintained, but as they approached the market square some started to really set themselves apart. They were usually three stories, each one quite tall, almost like towers. Red and white paint was ubiquitous on windowsills, shutters, balconies, rain gutters and whatever else extended out of a featureless wall.

Are people just
asking
for burglaries?
Katja thought to herself, but shortly after she saw the truly large houses, surrounded by tall fences with sharp spikes.

The guards were also highly visible. At first she thought she was seeing the same men circle around, but it seemed they truly were this numerous. Had their numbers recently been increased? Or had people of influence seen to it that their areas were better guarded after the demon’s rampage? Or were the infamous thieves of Farnar able to ply their trade in spite of all this opposition?

A man in worn clothing he clearly made an effort to keep clean stood on a street corner and offered protective talismans for sale. More than ten carved symbols hung around his neck and he seemed to never skip an opportunity to accost a passer-by.

“Protection, good sir! Buy protection for these evil times!” he said to a man in a tone Katja found rather exaggerated. “Ladies!” he said as they passed. “Good folk are not safe these days. Buy protection before night falls!”

I am my own protection
, Katja thought but withstood the temptation to say it out loud and flash her sword.

Still, the incident got her to stop examining clothes and houses and weapons and examine the people themselves as they walked.

There was fear in Farnar City. It wasn’t obvious on every face or in every voice, but the crowds displayed the stress clearly. Eleven days had passed since the Sensing. The demon incident was fresh in people’s minds and had now had time to carry back and forth between people and settle in their minds.

Katja suddenly wondered whether ordinary people could sense the demonic atmosphere just as she did, but simply didn’t realize it.

She looked at her mentor. Asking her about it was probably little use. The woman had never been ordinary, any more than Katja herself.

What’s it like to be one of them?
she thought briefly but didn’t go deeply into it. Best to check the pulse directly.

She put up a relaxed smile and accosted the nearest passing man.

“Pardon me,” she said casually. “I have just arrived in the city. Is something wrong? People seem...”

“Wrong?” the man said somewhat brusquely with an accent she had sometimes heard at the Amerstan City harbour. “War is in the air yet again. Men steal and lie and murder in the streets and all this evil has called monsters down upon us.”

He looked past her with anger Katja didn’t feel was directed at her.

“Cruelty and greed and stupidity. And innocent people suffer for it.”

He strode along and merged with stressed masses.