The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) (38 page)

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Authors: Tom Bielawski

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BOOK: The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars)
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The main street was very busy with crowds of people, horse and ox-carts, and wagons all vying for ownership of the road. There were no checkpoints set up on this main boulevard, but Carym saw down side streets where red-sashed men sat and blocked roads with horses and wagons, exacting tolls from passersby.

Ederick was in a dark mood, the lawlessness perpetuated by the actions of these hired strongmen was galling him. He wanted nothing more than to bring down the Red Dragon Band, but he knew his purpose was greater. He could not stop to help the people fight this injustice right now, but there would come a time, a reckoning, he promised himself. Then again, he thought with a grim smile, the Nashian’s under Hessan may just give these Red Dragons a taste of their own medicine. Although, he could not decide which evil would be worse for the poor Ckaymrish people who lived here.

They reached the Port of Powyss proper as the main boulevard ended at a “T” intersection; another boulevard lay from right to left with the piers before them. As Carym suspected, there were checkpoints to the right and left, guarding both directions, and one directly ahead. Bart led them through the port checkpoint and down the main pier to a waiting fishing boat. The boat was a typical fishing vessel. It was not meant for long, sustained sea journeys but could handle an overnight journey from Powyss to Obyn. It was equipped with vast nets, large swing arms, lobster and crab traps, and even fishing rods. The captain of this boat knew dozens of ways to bring in a catch and he knew ways to make his money without bringing in a catch. He was a wily old man and knew how to deal with inquisitive Red Dragons who, thus far, had no real fleet of their own.

Captain Yan Trelwigger sometimes took passengers or cargo across the sea to Obyn. At times he would stay a night in Obyn then return the next day with plenty of money to pay the dock bribes. Trelwigger was known, oft as not, to proceed directly to Obyn and sell his catch there for a higher price than he could muster with all the tariffs in Powyss. Thus, going to sea and returning with no catch did not arouse the suspicion of the Red Dragons, who would certainly want a cut of his profits if they knew he was hauling cargo and not fish. It was a trend that was becoming more prevalent among the fishing society of Powyss, and the Lord of Powyss didn’t realize the economic impact it was having on his merchants.

Trelwigger made the companions welcome and led them to the hold where his cargo would have gone. The wooden deck in the hold was damp and sticky and small lamps hung on hooks that would swing with the motion of the waves. The hold was equipped with net hammocks for them to sleep in with little fear of falling out during heavy seas.

Trelwigger demanded his passengers stay below for their entire journey, lest they arouse suspicion from any other ships in the area, especially some of his more fearsome competitors who may wish to tell the authorities of his private doings. Ederick thought that was a sensible decision so the companions agreed, and remained below.

They reached Obyn by nightfall the following day.

C H A P T E R

11

Arrested.

The Hand of Zuhr.

 

The Port of Obyn, in the peninsular nation of Myrnwell, was a city very much like Powyss. Similar in size, appearance, architecture and people. Merchants from around the world sold their wares here, as in Powyss, but one thing was noticeably different: the city Constabulary maintained a positive presence throughout the town. No checkpoints, no bribe dealing, no rampant criminal activity feeding the government. The peacekeepers here were respected and professional.

The people of Obyn were warm and inviting, much like those in his homeland of Hybrand. He felt at home here. The food, drink, customs and language were very similar to that of the Hybrandese Cklath. While the people of Ckaymru were also similar to his own, there were glaring differences. Ckaymrish folk were inherently mistrustful, inhospitable to strangers and volatile. Doubtless a result of the tyranny of their land by various monarchs and bandit lords.

Carym and Ederick arranged for rooms in the inn known as Tyntagyl. It was seated atop a hill in the center of what was the old city of Obyn. The inn was built on the ruins of a keep, the seat of power of an ancient king who ruled so long ago most had forgotten his name; some insisted his name was Dafyd, others Arfyr. All agreed that there was a powerful wizard who was the king’s closest friend and advisor and that the tombs of these great - but forgotten - people were hidden deep in the earth below the ruins called Avelyn.

While Carym enjoyed learning about the history of the region, there were more important matters to consider. They all felt more relaxed now that there seemed little threat of pursuit by the minions of Hessan. Though the farther the companion’s traveled from Ckaymru, the farther they travelled from their friend, Kharrihan. They all felt the pang of that loss, though none more so than Bart. The companions did not speak of this, however, as they knew their mission must take them farther still from helping their friend.

“I admit I have a small confession to make, so I do,” said Bart suddenly, as the men settled into their large room. “I did tell you I am welcome in many courts of the land. And, indeed, so it is. Although I prefer to think my welcome is due to my bardic talents,” he paused with a small sigh. “I know it’s more to the fact that I am a prince in my homeland of Ayre.”

“A prince?” Carym closed his eyes a moment, smiling as he tried to imagine the stern bard in his princely attire attended by lords and ladies of the court. Ederick was not amused.

“Aye, so I am. And for that reason, we will go to the court of my cousin, Delfyd Rhi, and he will welcome us and order a grand feast the likes of which you’ll have never seen.” The bard’s mood picked up. He and his cousin had been the best of friends growing up. There were many journeys made between their neighboring nations during his youth and more than a few adventures shared.

“Forgive our ignorance, Your Highness,” said Ederick in a strained voice as he bowed. “We could not have known.”

“Nonsense,” the bard replied lightly. “I kept it from you. Friends we have become, and friends we remain. There is no need for formality.”

“Why do you wander the realms as a bard, if you are the
Prince
of Ayre?” asked the knight.

“Truth be told, I detest the formalities of office, so I do! I’m not much of a politician, and I hate the duties of royalty. My good brother, the Boru, was kind enough to grant me exception from my duties as Commander of Arms knowing I wouldn’t be very good at such an important job, such as it is. I prefer to see myself as a wandering ambassador of the good will of Ayresmen!” he finished with a laugh and a grin. If there ever was a people who exuded good will from their pores, it was the people of Ayre.

Carym did not look forward to meeting the Rhi of Mrynwell. He was never very comfortable around folk of such high stature and rank. But Ederick seemed to think their chances of success would be greater with the involvement of royalty of any type.

“What assistance do you hope to obtain from your cousin?” he asked.

“I think Delfyd will provide us with all that we need to speed us on our way to the borderlands, so he will. Should we desire it, a company of men-at-arms could be spared, of that I am certain.”

“That would only slow us down and draw attention to our passing,” offered Ederick, albeit politely. “Our best chances lie with speed and stealth.”

“Agreed,” said Carym.

“Then I am sure my cousin will provide us with fast horses, supplies and weapons, and we will ask him to dispatch a runner to the border on our behalf. One doesn’t cross into the lands of the Jaguar Tribes unannounced.”

“For now, have a good meal and clean yourselves up. Then we go to meet a king!”

 

 

Carym had a nice lunch with Genn, Sir Ederick, and Hala in the common room after getting cleaned up and changed into some new clothes brought in by the inn keeper at the bard’s request. Following lunch Sir Ederick left to find the Zuharim barracks of the city while Hala sought the ambassador’s quarters. Carym and Genn decided to go and see some of the city before their meeting with the Rhi later in the evening.

The pair wandered among the city streets for a time, visiting various shops and enjoying the warmth and friendliness of the people. It was pleasant for him to be in the company of a woman he had become so fond of, forgetting the trials of their journey and enjoying each other’s company. In fact, for nearly two hours the pair said nothing at all of their quest, walking hand-in-hand at times, acting as though the world was none of their concern.

They decided to stop at a small cafe, with chairs and tables set upon the street. They enjoyed several of the tasty spirituous beverages and delights made with Mrynnish Cream and watched as the world walk by.

“What will become of us, Carym?” Gennevera asked, hinting at the dire reality that was their quest. For a moment Carym said nothing as the weight of the world resumed its precarious seat on his shoulders, darkness crept back into his soul.

Finally he spoke. “I do not know. We have a great responsibility before us, Genn. It was nice to forget it for a small time, and enjoy your wonderful presence. Alas, we have work to do now. I think, perhaps we should simply enjoy each other’s company, such as it is, in the small moments of our journey. We must not distract ourselves from the gravity of our situation. The time will come when we may be free to think of ourselves.” Carym paused for a few moments, and continued. “You can stay here, you know. The Rhi will make sure you are comfortable. This quest will be very dangerous, and I would feel better knowing you are safe.”

She cast him a dark look and scowled at him. “How very noble of you. However, I haven’t endured all this danger to simply abandon you when you need me most. I know I cannot offer much in the way of magic anymore, now that I no longer serve Grymm, but I have become a better fighter with the cudgel and I can fire a short bow well enough. Don’t presume that I am so innocent and naive that I cannot contribute. I will not simply wait here for you, hoping you come back alive, with no resolution to the question that is ’us’.”

Carym threw up his hands quickly, smiling. “I concede! Your value as a member of this team has been inestimable!”

“My value to the team?” she asked quickly, her eyes flashing.

“And to me,” he said quietly, seriously. “And to me.”

With that her temper subsided and a playful smile danced around her lips and Carym knew he had been had. She forced him to admit his feelings to her, in however small a way he had done so. He stood and tossed some coins on the table, his head swimming momentarily from the drink. Genn placed her hand in his as they walked back toward the inn.

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