Fifthwind (35 page)

Ben
paused to search deep inside himself. "When the time comes, Fahd
Cobalius, I'm not sure if I can make that choice."

Ben
ran a series of possible explanations through his head on what he
would say if questioned about the Kreggorian items he carried. Any
wrong response would mean a swift and ugly death while the existence
of a right response, for the moment, eluded him. One thing that he
did know, was that he would not disgrace the Kingdom. Slanderous
remarks would not escape his lips, even to protect himself. If this
were to be a test, then so be it. He would stand his ground and
accept the consequences.

With
no timber readily available, Eskerwold was built almost exclusively
with stone. This was not a young or hastily built city and the fine
brickwork showed in the precision of the details. Not that the city
was handsome in any way, to the contrary, it was an awful collection
of uninspired square block buildings. But, the quality of the
constructions was undeniable; years of necessity had made these
people expert stonecrafters.

The
streets were busy, even more so than Kishell Springs during the peak
of trading season. Ores pulled from the nearby mines met with the
fires of countless metal workers to fashion the pleasantries and
requisite items of Tanian life. Iron, copper and dirty metals were
smelted, purified and then fashioned into ingots that would later be
reforged and tooled by skilled craftsmen into things of beauty or
necessity or more likely... deadly weapons. Shop after shop displayed
unimaginative but sturdy examples of swords, axes, and unpoled heads
of varying shapes and sizes for halberds and spears.

Ben
tried to appear inconspicuous as they moved through the streets
deeper into the city. His boots shuffled over the thick layer of
rough gravel that paved the ground and pushed against the walls of
the blocky buildings. They moved quietly through a river of
inhabitants, mostly soldiers and men of labor, that ambled slowly but
with a tired persistence.

There
were no children in the streets, and very few women except for a few
that could have passed as men with little effort. There was no
laughter, and no song. It was a dark, lifeless town of stone, iron,
and soot, where even the sky was smudged with streaks of black. There
was a distinct lack of softness to the surroundings. No plants of any
kind, whether natural or potted, could be found. Even a shop that
displayed blankets and bolts of cloth was limited to browns, blacks,
deep-greens or varying shades of gray. It appeared that the Tanians
had not yet discovered the use of pigments or simply preferred a
duller existence.

He
tried to stay focused on everything moving around him, but with
little success in the dense crowds. He was pretty sure that he was
being followed by a large man that had taken up step a distance
behind him as soon as he and Cobalius had entered the main shop
district. He didn't see any reason not to voice his concern about
this. "I think we've been noticed."

"Yes,"
Cobalius answered. "There are four of them. Make sure you don't
cover that emblem on your sword, it is important that they see it."

"Why?"

"It
is time that they start to rethink their views on who you are and why
you're here."

Ben
reluctantly did as he was told and pulled his cloak away from the
sword on his belt to make it clearly visible to any who chanced a
glance. "So, why
am
I here?"

"To
change their way of thinking," Cobalius said matter-of-factly.
"Remember, the Fahd offer allegiance to no King or country. It is
time we reinforce that into the minds of those who would do us harm."

Ben
looked back nervously over his shoulder, "But, doesn't my carrying
a kingdom sword show my allegiance?"

"In
any normal situation it would. As a loyal Kreggorian officer, you'd
be expected to behave in a predictable way. I intend to break that
perception and strengthen the image of the Fahd. It is of the utmost
importance that they learn to view the Fahd as impartial and beyond
the normal loyalties of men."

"How
do you expect to do that? Once those men catch up, they'll attack me.
There is no avoiding it."

"Exactly,
and they will get in return two things they would least expect from a
Kreggorian. Superior skill and...
Mercy
."

Cobalius
turned into an alley, and motioned for Ben to follow him. "Fahd
Karthos is doing his best to make the existence of the Fahd known
here. This city was once controlled by an alliance of soldiers loyal
to the old ways, and determined to keep the war and their way of life
from diminishing. Fahd Karthos removed their leader, the
self-proclaimed mayor of this city, but many of his followers are
still causing trouble. They are now leaderless and vying for position
within their own ranks. They are a murderous bunch, who care for
nothing other than their own greed for money and power. Their tool is
intimidation, and their bite is deadly."

Ben
asked, "Why doesn't someone stop them? There has to be a higher
authority somewhere. There has to be some semblance of law."

Cobalius
turned and headed down a less active street. "You have to
understand Ben, that the long war has had an almost irreversible
impact on the Tanians. While the Kingdom has lost the resources to
reclaim control over much of the Eastern Realm, the Empire has been
reduced to a total breakdown in governance. Half of the militant
groups think the war has not ended, while the other half seek to gain
control over what's left of the throne. Not that it would be a great
loss to see the Emperor's murderous goons removed from power, but the
resulting loss of stability would attract much worse problems."

Cobalius
approached a small shop that had a collection of hammered copper pots
hanging from pegs above the soot-faced merchant. Without speaking a
word, Cobalius reached up and removed a tiny kettle, and a ladle that
had a polished granite handle. He also found a round spice tin and a
two-pronged fork. He placed the odd collection of goods on the table
and waited for the dirty shopkeeper to notice him.

The
merchant smiled and then looked over the items. He paused for a long
moment, not taking his eyes off of the arranged items on the
tabletop. Finally, he said, "I see you've got some gifts for your
trip to Mother's."

Cobalius
responded, "Has she been well?"

"She
needs her sleep these days. When you get there, use the back door so
as to not disturb her."

Cobalius
reached under his cloak and pulled out a few coins and tossed them
down. "I'll be back later for these things. Have them wrapped for
me, please." He reached down and picked up the spice tin and tucked
it into his belt pouch. "Except for this. I'll take it now."

"Of
course, Sir," the merchant said, never lifting his head to meet
Cobalius' eyes. "I'm sure these gifts will please her."

Cobalius
left the shop and continued his walk down the street with Ben at his
side. "Before you ask, I have no mother here in Eskerwold.
Everything you see and do from this point forward is part of a
carefully conceived plan. Even those men who are following us will
play their part in the end."

"And..."
Ben said, "how does getting myself killed fit into your plan?"

"Rumor
spreads fast in a community like this. Before the sun sets, the tale
will be all over town of what they witnessed today, and the people
here will have to rethink what they once understood. The Fahd must be
viewed as utterly impartial and not a tool of nations, because before
long, we will need the support of this land's people. Both Tania and
Kreggoria will soon find themselves as allies against a common
enemy."

Ben
could see where this was leading, and now somewhat understood the
reason for his being brought here. "When you said that instability
here would attract more trouble, you meant that
they
will be
coming."

"Yes,
like Kishell Springs, Eskerwold will soon find itself under the
direct influence of The Magus Core."

"Who
are they?"

"The
one that you call The Man in Gray is but one of many. They are a
secret brotherhood of sorcerers who have passed down their knowledge
and skill since the Scourge of Stonewall. They may have been robbed
of their power with the Breaking of the Soul, but they have lived on
in secrecy, waiting patiently for the Fifthwind's return. They are
strong, and numerous, and the only thing that stands between them and
their ultimate goal is The Fahd."

Ben
chanced another look back and saw that the pursuing thugs no longer
even pretended to conceal their interest in Ben. Nervously, he said,
"Tell me again what getting myself killed is going to accomplish
for your cause?"

Cobalius
answered smugly, "We're going to put on a little show that will not
only demand the respect of the locals, but will draw out anyone else
who might be watching. If The Core is already present, they will
learn quickly about what happened here today. Or, I should say, what
is about to happen. Defeating those men behind us will generate the
interest I'm looking for."

Ben
said, "The two of us against those four? Should be easy enough."

Cobalius
gave Ben a sideways glance as if he was about to say something and
then thought better of it. Instead, he said, "How about a nice
Tanian ale before we get our hands dirty? We need to find a busy
place with plenty of witnesses."

Cobalius'
show of confidence was both encouraging and frightening. To openly
invite an attack was madness, but somehow Ben was looking forward to
the so-called exhibition. He was confident that his ability would see
him through, and Cobalius held talents and skill unmatched by even
Ben. He hoped that Cobalius had a plan to get them safely out of
harms way if things turned for the worse, but something told him that
he would not be providing an instantaneous escort to a far away
hillside this time.

For
the present, he was really looking forward to the promised drink, but
he didn't think there was such a thing as a 'nice Tanian ale'. He had
tried a few varieties that regularly found their way through the pass
at Farhaven; all of which burdened the tongue with bitterness and
itched the nose with an overbearing tawdriness.

Halfway
down the next street, they found a large group of soldiers loitering
in front of a nondescript opening in the wall. The gathering of men
demonstrated a quiet familiarity and were almost certainly a unit
that had served together during the war, or currently served together
on border patrols. Ben intimately understood what family meant to a
soldier. When men eat, sleep, fight and die together, they will take
on a brotherly appearance that is quickly recognizable. Similar to
their Kreggorian counterparts, these men still wore various articles
of the Tanian uniform, from tattered tabards to leather gloves
embossed with unit emblems.

In
contrast to the somber street, the tavern within echoed with
boisterous laughter, song, and argument. Passing through the doorway,
Ben immediately drew the attention of several of those inside. The
weight of brown and black uniforms smothered him as he entered the
lair of the enemy.

The
tavern was dingy, dark and cold. It lacked any character or charm,
and did not resemble the ale houses of the Kingdom in any way. The
rock walls were bare and stained with the black soot of ages, making
the room feel smaller than it was. There were no decorations or
interesting architectural features, only a wide expanse of cobbled
floor and dozens of men drinking.

They
moved to a vacant table near the rear of the room, and Cobalius
motioned for two drinks that arrived at the table even before they
were properly seated. Light filtered into the smoke-filled room
through an opening in the roof where a slate covering had been
retracted. It was an ingenious design that allowed for both light and
ventilation. Rather than a rear kitchen, the tavern had an open fire
pit and serving area on one side, while the other side was filled
with tables and chairs. Along the walls ran a narrow ledge to
accommodate those who did not wish to sit.

Aromatic
smoke puffed from dozens of pipes and stung Ben's eyes. The smell was
a collection of sweet and exotic leaves and spices that was pleasant
but strong. The people of the Southern Kingdom had never taken up the
practice of pipe smoking, and even though he thought the habit to be
unusual, he found that he did like the smell.

Some
of the men were scarred with ritualistic symbols carved on their
arms. It was an intentional and absurd practice of marking one's skin
with unit emblems, clan symbols, or spiritual wards, accomplished by
deep cuts that sometimes left a man maimed or dead from infection.
Ben had never understood the barbaric rite and was thankful it had
never gained popularity in the Kingdom.

He
kept his head low and tried his best to blend into the crowd. At the
next table, an argument was quickly growing as a large, bearded man
tried to make his point.

"I'm
telling you, that he just disappeared!" the man said, slamming his
fist down on the table. "He marched into that chamber and took on
fifty men all by himself and then pulled Sarnek out into the street
and fed him to an angry mob. He called himself Karthos of the Fahd."

A
smaller man said, "They say, he's here to help. They say he might
make the Empire strong again."

The
bigger man slapped the smaller man across the back of the head. "By
getting rid of people like us! He might not do it personally, but the
people around here are all excited about what happened, and they're
getting brave. Soon, even the weak will rise against the strong,
there will be too many of them and then our time here will be done."