Farmers & Mercenaries (19 page)

Gazing around, it dawned on Klain that he could not see the massive walls of Mocley. “We are no longer inside the city!” Lush farmland, with small copses of trees scattered throughout, spread as far as he could see.

Sarshia threaded a bony gray arm behind Klain’s elbow—the unnatural cold of her touch sent a jolt down his spine—and they walked up the stairs together. “No, we are a ways from the city. This is the countryside, yes?”

The air intoxicated him. He had always enjoyed the smell of Sarshia’s villa. Compared to anything he had lived in in his past life, it was wonderful.

As sweet as the air is at the Honored One’s villa, it is more so here!

At the top of the stairs stood a Human dressed in a green tunic. A broad smile, partially hidden by a thick, graying beard, split his lips. Holding out his arms, the man descended the stairs to meet them on a wide landing at the midway point. “Welcome to my home once more, Honored One.” He made a gracious, sweeping bow.

Tilting her head in return, she did not release Klain’s arm. “As always, Rohann, the pleasure is mine, yes?”

Shifting his attention to Klain, the man nodded. “And I have heard much of you! The mighty Kith who became a hero of the Games.”

Not wishing to appear rude, and thereby dishonoring Sarshia, Klain remained still as a statue, simply looking at the man. For some reason, this caused the man to fidget.

A strange, high-pitched laugh emanated from Sarshia. “You must forgive Klain, Rohann. Though he has spent his entire life with Humans, he was not included in your race’s social edicts.” Uncoiling her arm from Klain’s, she turned to him. “This is where we part, yes? I am booked on a ship that departs this very day for my homeland.”

Klain felt heart-stricken. “What do you mean, Honored One?” The ferociousness of his tone forced the man to take a step back. Klain ignored him.

“I mean what I have said. You are not the animal you were when you first arrived at my villa. You have grown over the last few moons, yes? This,”—she extended an arm toward Rohann—“is the next part of your life’s journey.”

Forcing himself to relax, Klain regained control of his tone. “I understand. I will submit to this Human.”

Sarshia’s semi-transparent eyelids slid down and she tipped her head to the side. “You are not being asked to submit, Klain. I only asked that you meet with Rohann, yes? If you do not like that which he has to offer, you are free to choose another path.”

Waving a paw to the surroundings, Klain felt his temper flair once more. “Yet, you are abandoning me here.”

“No. If you wish, I will wait for you to speak with Rohann. Once you have decided, I will then depart.”

Shooting a glance at Rohann, Klain decided he did not like the smell of the man. He rested a paw upon the hilt of his sword.

Yet, I have given my word to employ with him.

“Nix, Honored One. You have done more for me than anyone alive.” Closing his eyes, he tilted his head in a bow. “I will stay with this Human.”

“Very well. I wish you good tidings and long life, Klain. I only wish I could see where the path you are on leads.”

“Surely we shall meet again?”

Sarshia shook her head. “I am afraid not.”

“I thought you said no one could predict the future.”

Her normal look of amusement passed over her features. “It is easy to predict that which you know will or will not happen. My time in Ro’Arith is at an end, yes? Once I arrive home, I shall not be leaving Elmorr’eth again.” With that, she turned and glided down the stairs to her carriage. When she slipped inside, the footman closed the door and hopped onto his perch at the rear. The driver flicked the reins and the two horses lurched forward.

Klain watched the carriage turn around in the cobblestone courtyard. He watched it pass between the low stone walls that surrounded the villa and onto the dirt road. Watched the dust from the road spew high into the air behind the carriage. Sarshia’s horse-drawn carriage trundled down the country road, and Klain was still watching long after it disappeared around a copse of fruit trees.

“Father!” The shout of a young boy broke the ominous silence that had fallen, causing Klain to whip his head around toward the villa. A Human boy-cub came running down the stairs. Small and thin with long blond hair, the boy wore a light cream shirt that billowed as he ran and a pair of brown pants. He had the clean smell of having just been washed with soap. Skidding to a stop next to Rohann, the boy-cub wrapped an arm around him and peeked out from below the man’s elbow. “Is that the Kith?”

The man smiled a weak smile, turned and went down to one knee before the boy. “Char, it is not polite to address someone by their race.” Rohann looked back up to Klain. “This is Master Klain. He is our guest and hopefully he will agree to become your new friend.”

The young boy, Char, scrunched up one side of his mouth. “Oh, aye. So it is to be my new body guard, is it?”

“Master Klain is
not
to be referred to as
it
!” The man’s rough tone caused the boy to flinch. “Do I make myself understood?”

Nodding, the boy glanced at Klain. Pulling from his sire, the boy stood, a defiant air about him. “Well met, Master Klain.”

“Good, now go and tell the cook we will have a guest for halfmeal, and to have us served in the garden.” Char nodded and raced up the stairs. Standing, Rohann looked apologetically at Klain. “I am sorry, Master Klain. Charver can be a bit rude at times.”

Grunting, Klain watched the boy disappear into the villa. “Do not apologize. He is a boy-cub.”

Rohann laughed, ascending the stairs after his son. “That sounds like the voice of experience. How many children do you have?”

The growl that poured forth from Klain made the man recoil in terror, slumping down on a step. “I was a slave to you
Humans
my entire life.” Realizing that he had spoken rough, upsetting the Human and causing the man to fall, Klain chastised himself.

If
you let your anger rise, you are beaten, you fool!

Imitating Sarshia, Klain inclined his head to one side, closing his eyes briefly. “I have never seen another of my kin.” He reached out a paw, holding it down to Rohann. “I apologize if my tone has
offended
you.”

The man reached out with trepidation, yet griped Klain’s furry wrist and let him pull him back to his feet. “Not at all, Master Klain. I have never met one of your kind either. It is I who should ask forgiveness for my statement. As well as my reaction.”

Releasing his hand, Klain walked up the steps, his claws clicking as he went. “It seems we both have much to learn, then.”

The layout of this villa, at least from the entrance way, looked much the same as what Klain was used to from his time spent with Sarshia. Two large double-doors opened into a wide marble-floored chamber. Instead of a big round table in its center, like the one in Sarshia’s home, this room’s floor was patterned into an ornate design that radiated out into points like a star. Planters lined the area and archways led off deeper into the building. A curved stairway hugged the walls on either side leading to a balcony, and presumably more rooms.

Following Rohann under the balcony, they emerged on the other side of the villa onto a patio area. More shrubs and small trees grew scattered throughout, and in the center, resting in the cool shade cast by the villa itself, sat a large stone table surrounded by comfortable looking chairs.

Behind the chairs, half hidden behind foliage, stood a group of burly men.

Their hands do not stray far from their weapons, yet the stink of fear fills them!

Without realizing it, Klain let out a low warning rumble and glared at the men in turn.

Stepping into his line of sight, Rohann put up his hands. The smell of fear wafting from him as well. “You are a guest here, Master Klain. These men are my personal guard. They are no threat to you.” He indicated a chair. “Please, join me for halfmeal.”

Nodding, Klain took the chair Rohann offered. Once seated, Rohann sat opposite him and motioned to a doorway. Klain had noticed the aroma of raw meat when he smelled the fear of the bodyguards, yet now it gained his full attention.

Two women, one thin, one plump, both older than Rohann, stepped out from a side door carrying trays of food and approached the table. “The Honored One informed me as to your taste in foods. I hope it is acceptable.” The man waited as the skinny woman placed a dish of fried eggs and an assortment of cooked meats in front of him.

“Aye, I do have a weakness for fresh lamb.” The aroma of the raw meat on the tray the plump woman carried filled Klain’s nostrils, and his mouth salivated. Without waiting for the woman who hovered beside him to place his plate fully in front of him—she seemed unwilling to move closer to the table—Klain reached out and picked up a leg. Sinking his fangs into it, he closed his eyes and relished the taste of the blood that remained in the flesh.

“That will be all, ladies.” The two women did a quick curtsy and withdrew to where they had come from. They did not go far, for Klain sensed they hid to watch. He could still smell them.

The young boy, Charver, joined the two at the table. He sat nibbling on a muffin of some sort. Rohann turned to the boy. “Master Klain here was the star of the Games a few moons back.”

The boy looked up. “You competed in the Games?” His words came out in a whisper.

At first, Klain felt his hackles rise at mention of his time with the Games. Yet, at the look of wonder and admiration upon the boy’s face, he settled down.

It is as if
he sees having been in the Games as good.

“Aye, I did.”

“Master Klain is being modest! He fought near a score of men, one after the other, for well over two aurns.” Rohann leaned toward the boy. “Master Klain is the one who put down the Twins you held in such high esteem.”

The boy’s mouth fell open. “You fought the Twins! At the same time?” Charver set his muffin on the table. “Father will not let me go to the Games! He says I am too young still!”

“You are barely into your tenth winter, Char. You know I will not take you before your fourteenth.”

Klain knew death. Knew what it looked like, smelled like. Felt like.

Yet these Humans seem to think it glorious! A thing to entertain them. I will never understand their race.

Not wishing for this conversation to continue along this line, Klain set the leg of lamb back on his tray and stood—not missing the fact that several of the men who still hovered in the shadows reached for their weapons. “It is my understanding that I am to be employed with you.”

Klain’s abruptness caused Rohann to lose his air of ease. For some reason this pleased Klain.

They are unsure of me. I think this is good. It gives me the advantage.

Wiping his mouth with a cloth from his lap, Rohann stood. “Aye, I would like to employ you. These are dangerous times and I have people who would do me and my family harm.” Waving a hand, he indicated the other men. “I feel adequately protected. Most of my men have been with me for many winters. Char, here, seems to have a way of discouraging loyalty with anyone I assign to protect him. It is my hope that you will take up this post and insure his safety. You will be paid—”

“I will take your employ.” Looking down at the boy, smelling his anxiety, Klain raised his upper lip exposing his front fangs. It pleased him to see the Human boy-cub’s eyes grow wide and white with fear. Looking back to Rohann, Klain nodded. “I will allow no harm to come to your boy-cub. And I doubt there is anything he can do to discourage me. If he does, I will simply eat him.” A small smile crept out of the corners of Klain’s mouth that Charver did not seem to appreciate.

Klain saw a twinkle in Master Rohann’s eye. However, a look of nervous apprehension quickly replaced it as the man eyed Klain’s fang bared grin.

Aye! A great advantage to have them unsure of me.

A
rderi Cor jerked awake with a start as pain laced up his back. He whipped his hand behind him, his elbow striking something hard and wooden. His hand went numb as the sensation of hundreds of needles sticking into him all at once shot up his arm. Squirming around, he took hold of the object stabbing him in the back—what felt like the handle of a skillet—and twisted it aside.

The sounds of wheels churning through crushed stone, the jingle of tackle, and the steady clop-clop of horse’s hooves resounded all around him. Stray beams of sunlight filtered through the wall of items entombing him, yet he had no direct line of sight from which to see. His stomach grumbled and the urge of the days first need to relieve himself were at the forefront of his thoughts.

Mayhaps I could have planned this a bit more thoroughly.

“Hail, Master Rillion.” The voice came to Arderi muffled from somewhere in front of the wagon, yet he easily made out the words.

“Aye, Trilim, what is on your mind.” The rough reply came from somewhere off to the side.

“Stillwater should be close now, Master. I thought we might break for halfmeal before we get there.”

Stillwater! That is well over a days walk from Hild’alan! How could I have slept so long?

“Nix, old friend. It will take some time to ferry this large a group across the Artoc. I want you to go with the first crossing. You can then start passing out halfmeal once everyone arrives on the other side.”

“Aye, Master.”

“Still, keep it quick. I plan to get in a few aurns travel before sundown once we are across. Mayhaps even get into the foothills by this eve.”

“Aye, Master.” The sounds of a horse galloping away answered the first man’s reply.

Alone in the gloom of his hiding spot, Arderi at once felt the full weight of what he had done. Sorrow swelled in him like water filling a bucket. Even though he had longed to leave his stead, to explore the Plane, the actuality of doing so now threatened to overwhelm him. Never before had he been so far from home. The thought of his mother worrying where he had gone and fretting for his safety sickened him. He could not create a viable solution, so he continued to sulk as the wagon plodded on.

Alas, Stillwater is not even on the
way
to Mocley! I have no idea where I am heading.

Less than half an aurn had passed when the wagon came to an abrupt stop. Again, something hard shifted, this time jabbing Arderi in the ribs. He slithered an arm down and shoved whatever it was aside just enough to curtail the discomfort. So far, the wagon ride had been mostly comfortable, save for the odd poke here or there. The supplies he had buried himself in had concealed him well, as far as he could tell.

At least, no one has raised the alarm nor dragged me out by my boots.

The grumble of his stomach and growing pressure in his bladder gave him serious concerns as they continued on their journey. He pushed these issues aside, hoping for the chance to ghost away and resolve them both eventually, although he did not have any idea how this would to be accomplished.

“Hail, Ferrier.” The cry came from the man Arderi guessed to be the leader of the group, the one the driver called Master Rillion.

“Aye.” The reply came from a rough, deep-throated man.

“We have wagons and men that needs be ferried across. What is the fee?”

“Wagons? There be no roads north of the Artoc, my friend. You be wanting to head on into Stillwater proper so as to book passage on a barge if you be heading up Orlis way.”

“Nix. We have needs across the river, not in Orlis. Now name your fee, man.” Arderi could tell by the tone in the leader’s voice that he meant to have an answer without any further questions.

“Well then, sir, no need to fuss. Man and horse are three Pynes each. Never had no wagon cross before, so I am unsure as to their price.” A pause stretched and Arderi wished for a better vantage point with which to watch. “Let us say a pent for each wagon and driver?”

“Aye, done is done. I have seven wagons with an additional forty-six men on mounts. How long till we may cross?”

“Well, that is a hefty fee. Let us see, that is…” Another pause rambled on and Arderi mentally added up the sum to two ta’narians and eight Pynes.

Two ta’narians! That is more gold than Papa will make in his entire life! How can anyone expect to pay so much just to cross a river?

“Two ta’narian, four Pents.” Arderi silently shook his head in protest at the Ferrier’s conclusion.

“Nix, man. That would be two and eight Pynes by my counting.” The leader, Master Rillion, was obviously a much better counter. “And, if you have my company and supplies ferried over before two aurns have passed, I will pay you three ta’narians total.”

“Boys!” Excitement was not hard to spot in the Ferrier’s yell. “Get out here and get that barge a-hopping!” Arderi heard the man trot away.

“You spend coin as if you have no care.” This came from a female voice. “In two aurns time we will have little daylight left. Can I re-state my—”

“Nix!” The growl from Master Rillion made even Arderi flinch. “You may not! I am not much on having my leftenant question me once a decision has been reached.”

“Aye, sir.” Arderi could tell that the woman was not happy, yet heard the sounds of someone dismounting. The woman started yelling out orders. “All right, you dogs! We have two aurns to cross this little trickle of water! Drivers, get those beasts lined up down to the dock there! As many men as can pack in on each trip shall do so! Arminton! Where in the Nine Hells do you think you are off to! We need no scouts on this side! I want you and the other scouts on first crossing with me! I expect a full report and a path chosen by the time the last wagon crosses! Now move and look alive, you son’s of goat farmers! Or I swear by all that is holy, not a single man on this little expedition will enjoy themselves!”

The wagon lurched and Arderi jostled back and forth with the rest of the cargo. The sounds of the horse’s hooves pounding on the ground turned hollow when they landed on the wooden planks of the dock. A sickening, swaying motion washed over Arderi and he knew the wagon had rolled onto a floating barge.

The sound of the river flowing below is doing nothing for my need to relieve myself.