The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit

Dark Tales of Randamor the Recluse

Andrew Ashling

Dark Tales of Randamor the Recluse — Book IV

The Invisible Hands — Part 1: Gambit

Andrew Ashling
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © 2012 by Andrew Ashling Websites:
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“I thought it was you, Verial of the Lakes. I recognized your furt-ive, nervous gait, as if a pack of wild animals were chasing you. Or is
it that you are ashamed lest someone should see you enter the abode
of Randamor the Recluse? Well, there’s little chance of that
happening.”

…

“Don’t make excuses that men far less cynical than I wouldn’t believe. Undress. You know where the stool is stored.”

…

“No, I don’t know what story it is you want to hear, and neither
do I care. But I can guess. I will consider your request after you have
done my bidding.”

…

“No, I have no complaints in that regard. Mandigaill was very
amusing and pliable company. In his turn he has sent me Bronnow-yn, the logger’s son. Most exquisite.”

…

“The price? Why, you are paying as we speak. The expression on
your face when you slid over the knob. You’ve obviously not been
practicing. The red color on your cheeks as you are sitting there. Believe me, you are paying.”

…

“Ah, Starlight, how predictable you are. What is it with you
people, that you long to hear of the unhappiness of your betters, of
the humiliation of princes, and the crumbling of thrones? Does it en-rich your bleak and insignificant existence, I wonder?”

…

“Yes, but you forget that time is a river that is always in motion.

Peace. War. They are but temporary conditions. But, in a sense you
are right for bringing it up, because that was essentially what Anaxantis was trying to do. Stop time. Or rather coagulate it. Make it solid, yet malleable in his hands. It couldn’t be done, of course. Yet for a
short time, a very short time, it seemed as if he would almost manage
it. But, inexorably, time flowed on, and the river needed constant
watching and its banks reinforcements.”

…

“I know he has been called the Conqueror. He never wanted to be.

He wanted safety. For himself, his friends and his love. He saw Great
Renuvia as a big garden, protected on all sides. In the north by the
impenetrable wall of the Somertian Mountains, in the east by the life-less, deadly Marbahari Desert and in the west by the craggy, rocky
coast. His weak points lay where the Mirax had made the beaches ac-cessible and inviting, and they also lay in the south, the lands called
the Northern Marches by Ximerion, but which Anaxantis had learned
to call by their old name, the Highlands. The garden was vulnerable,
and he knew it.”

…

“When danger came, it came in an unexpected way and it affected
not only the warlord’s dominions. It set the whole region on fire. This
time it was not just a tribe of half-savage warriors that troubled the
peace, but an ancient, powerful nation. Oh, it was past its apogee,
though it didn’t know it, but still, it could easily field an army of a
hundred thousand, lose it to the last man and field another. And another yet.”

…

”He would gladly have given it all up and lived the life of a coun-try squire, with his love and his friends. It was not to be. There was
no safety to be had. And thus, in a manner of speaking, he had to become what he became. He had to cling to power at all costs.”

…

“Why that should be a burden? Because he was a reluctant
warrior.”

…

“Of course he was afraid of war. Only fools are not. Anaxantis
was no fool. He was fully prepared to fight, but only as a last resort.”

…

“And maybe, Verial, you should just keep your mouth shut and
your legs open, and let me tell the story as it should be told.”

The abandoned hut stood in a small clearing, deep in the forest. A dim light escaping from a gap under the door and wisps of gray-white smoke coming out of the chimney indicated that it was occupied for the moment. Makeshift tents stood on the space before it, in a dis— orderly array. A few men were guarding the small path that was the only access to the glade. They seemed tired, dirty and nervous.

The young man poked in the fire with a long stick.

“There is no other way,” he said looking into the flames. “We’re at the end of the road. If we continue like this, all of us will die. What would that accomplish?”

The only other person in the single room of the hut sighed. Although he was nearing sixty, his hair and his beard were still pitch black.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I am, Bruonnt. We’re losing men almost every week now.

We’re down to what… sixty?”

“Sixty-three.”

after. With me out of the way they will leave you men alone. There’s still enough money left to pay your way.”

The old man looked with sorrowful eyes at his young companion.

“We’ll need that. I’ll come looking for you as soon as they’ve given up,” he said.

The young man smiled cynically.

“Don’t forget there’s new money coming in. Another thing, I don’t want any of the others to know. Only you.”

“I understand. You wouldn’t want the men to know, eh, all the details. I understand. But isn’t it dangerous? I’m not a young man anymore and anything might happen. In an emergency, who’s to say I will have time to pass on what I know before I die? You would be on your own. Completely alone. Nobody would know who you are. Nobody would know your name. You would have no way to prove your true identity.”

“I realize that, but it can’t be helped. I’ll manage. If worst comes to worst, I’ll run for it. We’ll arrange for a safe place to put enough money away in case I need it.”

The older man didn’t even try to keep his worries from his face.

“I… I don’t like it. The idea alone. You… In that situation. It doesn’t bear thinking about. It will be so different a life. Are you even up to it?

Why not stay and carry on? Move farther up north, northeast maybe.”

“No,” the young man said, harsh and determined. “No, Bruonnt, no,” he continued in a softer voice, “my mind is made up. We will do this. It’s not forever. I don’t want to move too far away from here, and that means that eventually they would find us. Find me. They have probably planted spies everywhere, and we know they have more than ample resources.”

can show them a body, they might simply return home and report that you’re dead.”

The young man thought for a while. He felt the temptation to crawl back from his firm decision tugging at him. He shook his head.

“Too risky. If I stay with you men, we will stick out like a sore thumb. Sooner or later somebody will notice us. No. Only with me gone, they will maybe fall for it and perhaps give up eventually. Under no circumstance can you come for me before you are absolutely certain they have done so. Understood? We can only hope for better times and meanwhile we’ll have to make the best of it. It’s so unbelievable, they just might fall for it. That’s why it has to be this way.”

The older man had tears in his eyes now.

“I understand, believe me, I do, but I still don’t like it.”

The young man was absentmindedly playing with the long, braided ponytail, hanging from the right side of his head between his otherwise loose hair. He saw Bruonnt looking at it.

“It’ll have to come off,” he said, decidedly.

He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his eyes belied his gesture.

the landlord that the lord governor of the Highlands wants three warm meals for his friends and himself. Quickly. Arrange for the men to be fed as well. I want to eat outside, there on those benches. Put sentries, and see to it that we are not disturbed.”