Black Hart Black Hart
Gradsul by Twilight
Chapter 4 - Rescue in Tringlee
Eloi awoke the next
morning with an almighty headache.
"Must have been a good night!" he thought.
He opened his eyes slowly as the brightness of daylight hit them.
"For feck sake where the hell am I?" he muttered to
himself.
Gradually he regained his senses and remembered that Akhan and
himself had rolled back to Seldar Palace in the early hours of
the morning and Akhan had poured him into one of the many guest
rooms within the palace quarters. He walked over to where his
clothes had been dropped and rummaged about searching for his
money pouch. Upon finding it he hefted it for weight and decided
that he had probably not lost too much money.
His head still hurt, but his stomach was in dire need of
attention. He wandered out into the corridor in search of the
kitchen and some food. with a stroke of luck Akhan might be up
and be resolved enough to tie up his business in Tringlee so that
they may be on their way back to Niole Dra and onto Gradsul.
Cinion had risen early
for prayers, then quickly returned to the Kingfisher Inn where he
collected a suitable pony for the journey. He was not so
comfortable with ponies and suchlike, but in the circumstances he
felt it necessary to reach Gradsul with as much haste as
possible.
"I meant to say, Devion," Walt said as he walked out
the back yard. Walt came closer and whispered to him now. "
Not that I'd anticipate any problems, but if things go
pear-shaped in Gradsul there is someone you can contact for help.
You mustn't tell the others in your team of her, though, or me
for that matter - the less folk know all our identities the
better, you know! Baroness Dharama Koten of Teynvald, one of our
Southern Baronies. This time of year she tends to be in Gradsul,
'entertaining' some of her noble men-friends. You should have no
problem finding her. But only in emergencies - tell her 'Valda'
sent you."
With a nod, there goodbyes said the night afore, Cinion led the
dark grey pony out of the yard, waiting 'till he was clear of the
town gates before trying to mount the beast. It was a long time
since he had ridden, and he would be damned if he were going to
make a fool of himself in front of anyone. Much to his surprise,
the pony seemed quite happy to have him aboard, and he patted the
beast's neck before geeing it on towards Seaton and the safer
coastal road to Gradsul.
Akhan stared gloomily at
the pile of equipment he'd spread on the bed.
He'd always hated packing, but despite his hangover he knew that
he'd have to do this properly. There was no knowing what
sort of trouble they'd find themselves in. He put the
crowbar and hammer to one side for now and carefully packed the
rest of his belongings. As he picked up the bullseye
lantern, it struck him: no oil! Oh well, have to pick it up
on the way out of Tringlee. He looked at the two heavy
implements lying there and decided to leave them. If he
really needed those tools in Gradsul he could buy or steal them
down there.
Next was a horse. He'd been mooching around the Duke's
stables occasionally since he found out about this trip on the
lookout for a suitable mount. The cavalry officers were a
good crowd to hang around anyway, as they had a reckless
disregard for risk - never a good attribute in a card
player. But they mostly took their losses in good humour
and he enjoyed fleecing one or two of the more profligate.
Now though he really did have to get himself a good horse and he
hoped Gulden the Stable Master wasn't in one of his foul
moods. The man might even refuse to bargain for one of his
charges if he was really bad-tempered.
Later on, after he had sorted out the pining Eloi's breakfast, he
found Hanali in her room. He hadn't been looking forward to
this moment at all. In truth he was looking forward to
getting away from Tringlee for a while and wandering around a new
city. But this parting was new to him and he wasn't sure
how to approach it. Eloi was waiting in the courtyard
below though. He'd arranged a time to leave with him and
although they probably wouldn't get very far in the rest of the
day it was obviously important to him to make a start.
As it turned out, he found he had next to nothing to say to her
at all.
He simply embraced her for a long moment then stood back a little
to kiss her, staring at her the better to fix her image in his
mind.
"Take care of yourself and I shall be back when you least
expect me."
Eloi waited outside as Akhan said his goodbyes, deliberately not
listening to the rancid slush he was sure Akhan would be vomiting
out. After a surprisingly short period of time, the door opened
and Akhan emerged, a face like thunder warning Eloi of the
severity any comments would meet with.
He just couldn't resist it though - but as he opened his mouth to
profane once more he heard footsteps behind him and a throat
'cleared' to gain their attention. It was the gatehouse
Lieutenant that had shown Eloi in the day before.
"Milord, Master Akhan," he said, nodding a curt bow to
each in turn. "There is a messenger for you both at the
gatehouse. Says he comes on behalf of a King's Mareschal, Javitt
Toruk."
Both looked at each other and shrugged - obviously neither had
heard of this Mareschal before. They followed the lieutenant out.
Eloi's jaw dropped as
the young man told the message within the gatehouse.
"Lord Toruk chases a fugitive day afore the day afore
yesterday, at least he believes it to be her."
Mentioning the word 'her', Eloi's stomach was churning.
"When he catches up with her horse, an accomplice had led
them away on it, and they only catches him 'cos it were lamed.
When they catches him and searches, they finds a letter in his
tunic with both your names on it. It was sealed with the Lord
High Mareschal, Lord Oakley's seal! Blighter says he is to
deliver it here and that the whole escapade with the horse is a
botch-up."
Akhan felt a strong smirk coming on.
"Anyways, milord is bringing the wretch here for
questioning, and he'd be mighty obliged if ye'd attend to help
him. He should be in by noon, at the Varsytte Gaol to the north
of town."
Kyros took a sharp
intake of breath, his whole system shocked into consciousness by
what he presumed was a bucket of cold water.
As he sat up, his upper body aching from the beating he had
taken, he saw four figures standing in front of him. One seemed
to be some sort of lowlife jailor, another two were dressed in
fine uniforms. The fourth was the Olven lord from the copse.
"Hope you enjoyed your sleep - I thought it best to keep you
unconscious for the journey - wouldn't want you escaping,
spy!"
The Olven lord must have caught his stunned reaction to this
nonsense, and grinned knowingly. He pulled out an envelope from
within his tunic - the envelope given to him by Lord Aranon!
"A stolen document from the Lord High Mareschal, I'd
bet!" he declared happily. "Or a false message intended
to defraud - tell me wretch, how did you come by this?"
Kyros suddenly realised that he was almost completely naked, and
the loincloth he was wearing was certainly not his! His hand
instinctively went to his head - the hat was gone too.
"Oh yes," the Olven man crowed. "We see you now as
you truly are, spy."
"I'm no spy." Kyros protested vigorously. "That
letter is genuine, and from Lord Aranon himself. I'm under
instructions to travel to Tringlee incognito. You can check with
Lord Aranon directly - he will vouch for me, or with Battar, the
Olidammaran priest at Rel Mord. I am Kyros Sablefist, priest of
Olidammara, and the Lord High Mareschal, or whatever you call
him, will be furious if I'm prevented from completing my
task."
"Look," Kyros said, putting on his most honest
expression, knowing full well that if they didn't believe a word
he said he'd be left here to rot, "I'm a stranger to thse
lands; I had no idea who the lady was, nor who you are for that
matter, and she was as likely to run me through had I not given
her my horse."
Kyros slumped back, tired.
"Just verify my story, or divine if I'm lying. Either way
there's something very urgent to be attended to which needs my
presence at Tringlee."
The Olven Lord nodded as Kyros spoke.
"Well, Kyros Sablefist - what this has to do with Lord
Aranon I do not know, but I shall, with or without your
permission, be investigating further. However, I do not think I
shall be able to contact Rel Mord before we stretch your
neck!"
A man stepped behind him from the left and spoke to the Olven
Lord. Kyros did not catch what he said, but heard the reply, that
the Olven Lord would meet 'them' in the courtyard.
"Fare thee well for now, spy," he said, grinning
maniacally.
Without giving Kyros a chance to speak further he slammed the
heavy iron-bound door to this windowless cell, leaving almost no
light. He then heard the door being locked, and footsteps walking
away from the door, until another door slammed.
Then, apart from an occasional squeak from the rats, it was
silent.
"He's just down in
the dungeon, sirs," the guardsman told them, beckoning them
after him as he opened a formidable iron door and went down a
flight of stairs into the murky darkness of the gaol.
Akhan and Eloi gave each other a brief glance before following -
Varsytte Gaol looked exactly like the kind of place they had
spent their entire lives trying to stay out of - and here they
were strolling into it.
"Wait here, sirs!" the guardsmans said, leaving them in
the dusky corridor as he went through another door.
Neither of them felt much like talking, as though that would
delay the moment they could be out of this horrific place. It was
not so large as they had imagined, but Akhan knew the reason for
that. Imprisonment was an alien concept to the Duke's people -
only the rare political prisoners woul languish here - others
merely awaited trial, sentence, or punishment.
The door creaked open again, and the guardsman returned, followed
shortly after by an Olven man dressed in a noble's finery, and
two other guardsmen after him. The first guard closed and locked
the door behind them.
"Good afternoon, sirs - I am Javitt Toruk, the King's
Mareschal for these parts. Perhaps you could shed some light on
these matters."
He pulled an envelope from within his tunic and handed it to
Akhan.
"And speaking of light..." he said, flourishing his
hands and muttering arcane words.
A magical light appeared above them, making it easier for Akhan
to see the letter.
It was addressed to 'Baron Eloi Brandt or Master Akhan
Bherrulian'. Turning it over, they clearly saw the seal of the
Lord High Mareschal thereon.
"The wretch tried to lead us away from a fugitive I have
been pursuing - Emarrill Kyar, a one-time general in the armies
of Iuz, now a bandit with much blood on her hands, never mind a
sizeable bounty on her head."
Akhan tore open the letter and began reading the contents.
"He claims his name is Kyros Sablefist, a priest of
Olidamarra. Mentioned some nonsense about Rel Mord, though I
don't know what his connection there is. Claims Lord Thoggin sent
him here with this."
Akhan smiled and looked up at the elf.
"It seems he was telling the truth, Javitt," Akhan
said, taking great pleasure in the way Javitt's jaw dropped at
this news. "The contents of this letter are most
confidential, but I would say there has been a misunderstanding.
And before we incur Lord Thoggin's wrath, I'd say you'd best free
the man, return him his belongings and have him meet with us
somewhere more suitable. In private!"
Javitt was left speechless.
"Ta...but...get him dressed," he snapped at the
guardsmen, "And take him to the warder's office."
Javitt then stomped off, back in the direction they had come.
Akhan had the feeling he had not made a friend in that cold soul!
Eloi was somewhat
incensed at the fact that Toruk had passed the letter, which had
been primarily addressed to him, to Akhan. He was about to open
his big mouth and let his feelings known when he suddenly
remembered that he couldn't read. He sheepishly deflated his
chest which he had puffed up in readiness for his outburst and
listened intently to Akhan's recital of the letter's contents.
"I send this man, Kyros Telliran, also known as 'Sablefist',
to you as a member of your team. He is a priest of Olidamarra,
and much more than that I do not know - he was recommended by our
mutual acquaintance Aranon, whom I asked for assistance. He
assures me the man is up for the task.
On your way to Gradsul, stop at the town of Temperance, and go to
the Waymeet Inn there.You will find an extremely irritable wizard
by the name of Smokelight languishing there in utter horror at
the town's prohibitive bye-laws. It was the only way I could
ensure he would be 'dried out' for the mission. If sober, I
believe he too will be up to the task.
Once at Gradsul, Eloi knows where to go. from there.
Burn this letter once you have read it.
Thoggin"
Eloi looked at Akhan and they both smiled.
A minute later, the door to the warder's room was opened and a
man, obviously battered and bruised from Javitt's interrogation
'skills', was shown into the room. The guardsman then had enough
sense to leave the room.
Kyros was checking himself over as he entered the room. He was
glad he had a chance to bathe and clean up. It would be better to
appear as a black-haired, clean-shaven, wiry man in his
mid-thirties, than a half-beaten half-naked one. The fine chain
mail sat familiarly on him, and he thought how his staff felt
good to the touch, as he stepped in.
Nice surroundings, he thought to himself and he entered the room.
Aranon seemed to have great influence in this land, Kyros mused
and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He met the two men's eyes,
and assessed them carefully, taking in their fine clothes, and
considering his own nondescript dark tunic and pants. He looked
at the boar-head crest, but did not recognise it. They must be
staring at my single black glove, he smiled to himself. So long
as they haven't seen me before elsewhere.
"Well, since I don't see that damn elf anywhere, and since
you're holding Lord Aranon's letter in your hand, I take it that
I have you to thank for getting me out of gaol." Kyros
nodded, and smiled slightly. "I am Sablefist, priest of
Olidammara. Friends call me Kyros."
With that Kyros extended his hand to the two men.
Grasping the man's proffered hand, Akhan said, "Kyros,
I'm Akhan. Glad you could join us." Stepping
back slightly he smiled, making the long scar on the left-hand
side of his face buckle. "Allow me to introduce you to
His Munificence the Baron Eloi Brandt of Amarr!"
He mischievously swung an arm wide towards the half-orc, and Eloi
was beginning to think that his friend had rediscovered his sense
of humour.
While Eloi was making his acquaintance Akhan continued his study
of the priest. So this was one of Aranon's
co-religionists! He certainly looked the part and Akhan
wondered briefly what sort of impression Eloi and himself had
made on this Sablefist. Frankly, the elfin chain mail he
was wearing spoiled the effect of his fine clothes but this was a
business trip after all. However, his appearance was still
fairly trim - Hanali had insisted on spending hours snipping away
at his hair recently and it certainly looked good. Very
short of course but he couldn't be too displeased with it.
All in all, he couldn't think of another small, lithe, black
haired, one-eyed, scar-faced half-elf he'd ever met that looked
half as stylish as he did.
He settled his good black hat on his head and adjusted it till it
sat just right. Temporarily he'd swapped the good eye-patch, over
his right eye-socket, for a nondescript black one. No sense
attracting unwanted attention on the journey.
Eloi looked at Sablefist suspiciously - still, if Aranon had
recommended this man then he must be of some repute.
"Well met, Sablefist," Eloi said, shaking his hand.
"I am sorry that Lord Toruk got a bit carried away when he
first encountered you. Still, the story interests me. Why did he
think that you were assisting this fugitive he was hunting?
Perhaps it is the fact that this woman appeared to be an
acquaintance of Lord Aranon?"
The fine clothes which Eloi wore could not hide the true nature
of his heritage. They did not sit well on the Baron and he looked
extremely uncomfortable. Eloi was undoubtedly a half-orc, and not
a very handsome one at that.
Eloi thought Sablefist would obviously be aware of Eloi's rapid
rise to nobility, given that that the tale of his heroic rescue
of the King at Axewood Palace would be the stuff of legend now.
If Sablefist had ever heard the story, he had either been too
drunk or too bored to remember it.
"Kyros, I don't know about you," Akhan continued,
"but I'd prefer to continue this conversation somewhere
else."
Akhan was staring disapprovingly around and he pointed to the
large hound who has been sitting patiently by his side.
"Ash here doesn't like gaols. But first things
first!" he said as he held up the letter and walked over to
the nearest torch, guttering away on the wall.
"Unless you want to have a look at it yourself, Eloi, I'll
do as Thoggin commands."
Eloi shook his head and with that Akhan set the paper on fire.
"We should return to Seldar Palace or a suitable hostelry to
talk further and we should prepare to be off on our journey no
later than tomorrow. If we are to meet this wizard at Temperance
then we should try and make as good a time as possible. Why did
Thoggin have too send me a fecking Wizard? Probably knew that it
would piss me off!"
Once outside, Akhan
glowered darkly up at the mass of the building and spat into the
street. "First things first though. Let's find a
hostelry..."
"I'm happy to get out of that place." Kyros nodded at
Akhan's suggestion. "I'm supposed to locate and meet up with
the both of you, but it seems you've found me instead. My thanks
once again. I did not particularly fancy languishing in a cell
for days."
Kyros' expression darkened.
"This Toruk apparently threatened to have me hanged. Not a
friend of yours I hope. A bit of an unwashed goblin in my
regard."
He could tell that he was not their friend from the way they
sniggered at his accurate description of the cur. Akhan decided
on somewhere a little further away from the stink of the gaol so
as they wandered along through the crowds he continued their
conversation.
"This bloody woman of Aranon's seems to be a real
eye-opener. A genuine general of Iuz. No wonder he
was pissed off when she gave him the slip." He
whistled wonderingly. "Bit embarassing really."
Arriving at the Laughing Dragon, they ducked into the dingy
interior and Akhan settled his elbows comfortably onto the
counter of the bar.
"Barman," he said sternly, "don't even think of
selling us any Peasant Piss. I'll have a brandy and these
two will have, what? Eloi? Kyros?"
Eloi's knowing look told Akhan that he was in a Diamond Merrybuck
mood, and Kyros also settled on a brandy too. The bartender
brought them over sharply and they waited until he was out of
hearing range before resuming their conversation.
Settled at their table, Akhan held up his drink and grinned
mischievously around.
"To new friends and a successful, and hopefully profitable,
venture!" Akhan toasted. Eloi and Kyros also raised their
drinks in salute to Akhan's toast
"Well, Kyros," Eloi said after draining his tankard.
"Do tell us about your encounter with this Emarill."
"Let me fill you in, Baron Brandt. I had the misfortune of
meeting this Emarill lady on my journey to meet with you, and the
greater misfortune of trading horses with her as she had a lame
horse." Kyros smiled wryly at the thought. "That
overenthusiastic elf thought I was a spy and jumped me. I was
beginning to think that this was a crazy country. I've made a
hell of a mistake haven't I?"
Kyros shrugged in resignation.
"How is the woman connected to Aranon anyway?"
Kyros realised he knew very little about Keoish affairs, having
heard of Eloi only because Battar had filled him in. He wondered
if he was the right person for the task ahead - why not get
somebody native? But the two men with him seemed friendly and
reliable enough. Maybe I'll just have to get used to not working
alone, Kyros thought.
"Emarill," Eloi explained, "as we now know she is
called, became known to us briefly after Aranon, Akhan and myself
met after the Battle of Galden Field. I never actually met the
woman, because Aranon kept her away from the rest of us in the
privacy of his own room.
"Now I know that all men have their urges and I just thought
that Aranon was humping some local bint. Little did I know he was
aiding a follower of Iuz for whatever purpose. During the course
of our journey to Axewood the woman took her leave, stealing our
late comrade, Hamman's mount. I never saw nor heard of the woman
again until I encountered her on my journey here. I did not even
know her name until Toruk revealed it. I might have known Aranon
would not reveal anything regarding Emaril to you, he always was
a secretive bugger!"
"But, now to our mission. Lord Thoggin has received
information through his sources that their is a Scarlet
Brotherhood spy in Gradsul. He has made it my task to go to
Gradsul and sniff out this spy. Thoggin has been kind enough to
provide your services to assist me. "
He took a long drink before continuing.
"As you may already know, we have already been pitted
against an agent of the Scarlet Brotherhood. They are nasty
pieces of work and not to be underestimated. On my first
encounter with Shabass T'Lan he nearly had me assassinated. If it
had not been for the timely intervention of my good friend
Bermen, I would most certainly be dead." He looked bitter.
"I thought I had heard the last of the Scarlet Brotherhood
when Jean-Paul slayed him on the road to Niole dra, but alas I
fear that Shabass T'Lan will stalk me from the very grave as his
body has been stolen from its resting place."
"That is all the information that I have at present. If you
have any information that you consider relevant Sablefist, I
would welcome to hear it. I have learnt from bitter experience
that even the smallest piece of information might have
repercussions on our mission."
Eloi's mood turned melancholy as he looked at Akhan
"I would prefer to get an early start tomorrow for our
journey to Temperance. Perhaps it would be best if we got some
sleep." His mood lifted slightly as he added, "You
probably want to get back and 'say goodbye' again to Hanali
anyways."