Forgotten Mage (27 page)

Bren looked at Flynn to see that the
man had a large bruise forming on the side of his head, and his
left eye was starting to darken and swell. “When you grow up around
her, you learn to sleep heavily, or not at all,” Bren replied,
though honestly, he didn’t know how he had slept through the
commotion. His best guess was that he was in his mother’s dream
world when it occurred.

“Be that as it may, you need to learn
to sleep lighter, otherwise you might find yourself sleeping
forever,” Flynn said, the ire evident in his voice.

Bren patted Avalanche on the head and
whispered a soft “good girl” in her ear before stepping out of
bed.

“I think we should head to the training
ground a bit early today. If possible, I would like to get
something to eat other than a tasteless bar. Also, I would like to
take a bath without feeling as if I had to kick out half the Tower
to enjoy myself,” Bren said, grabbing and buckling on his
sword.

“I would be more than happy to go to
the training ground, at least there I don’t have to deal with a
pampered prince. When we get there, I get the pleasure of beating
him senseless, though I doubt you had much sense to begin with, so
it’s not a very demanding task.”

Bren gave Flynn as tight smile. “I
might have been born a prince, but at least I was not born an ass,”
Bren replied as he walked out of the door.

As soon as he stepped outside, Bren
could see the difference in the Tower. Each floor now had a
Katanaga soldier patrolling, with a few tower guards walking about
too. From the looks on the mages who were awake, they were not too
pleased with the change as the Katanaga searched everyone without
care for status.

Sighing, Bren knew that this couldn’t
last long, otherwise there would be hundreds of mages willing to
use their power to rip apart the very stones to find the people
responsible for destroying their peaceful lives.

CHAPTER XXII

Bren found that even sparing beat the
hours spent in his room. He might have earned a few bruises, but
that was better than staring at the same four walls all day.
Avalanche was also enjoying her time at the training grounds, as
the Weapons Master ordered four trainees to “play,” with her. Try
as they might, they quickly learned that there were some thing you
just could not best with a sword.

When it was about time for Bren return
to the Tower, Jacob called him into his office. Bren had only been
there a few times before, but found it oddly relaxing. There wasn’t
much in the way of embellishments inside, just a simple oak desk
and a few solid wooden chairs that hurt to sit in for very long. It
was that quaint nature, which put Bren’s mind at ease.

“Is something the matter Weapons
Master?” Bren asked as the door closed behind him.

“There might just be,” Jacob said,
pacing back and forth. “One of my friends within the council have
let me know that they are not too happy with you signing the papers
for the increase in forces. It would seem that they will be calling
you to the council chambers to talk to you about it.”

“I don’t see why the council should
have a problem. Master Carnear is the one holding Master Sae-Thae’s
spot at the moment, if anyone had a problem it should be
her.”

“You don’t know how the city works
since your father disappeared do you?”

“What do you mean?” Bren asked, his
interest piqued.

“Dang boy, I thought you had better
eyes than that. Have you even taken a walk around the
city?”

“I have been to the market a little,
but haven’t really had the time between training and the Tower to
explore the entire city.”

“I would suggest that you take a walk,
instead of returning to the Tower right away. I think you would
find the experience very….enlightening,” Jacob said in the same
infuriating way that his mother did when she wanted him to figure
out something for himself that would have been easier just
told.

“I will do just that, Weapons
Master…Any other advice?” Bren asked as he reached for the
door.

“I would suggest that you take the time
to think of why your father created this little haven while you are
about the town,” Jacob replied in a dismissive tone.

After picking up his escorts, who were
putting up their training gear, Bren headed into the town. As he
walked down the narrow and mostly empty street, Bren took a closer
look than he had the previous days. “Where are all the non-humans?”
Bren asked, after less than a half hour of walking around the
shops.

“Why would there be any non-humans on
this side of town?” Flynn asked in retort, as if the answer was
simple. “They all stay on the eastern side of the city.”

“Why are they separated?” Bren asked
confused.

“How in the nine hells am I supposed to
know,” Flynn replied annoyed. “They just are, and have been for as
long as I have been in the city.”

Bren turned down one of the large side
roads and headed toward the east side of town. It didn’t take long
before he started to see the changes in his surroundings. The roads
went from smooth cobblestone and brick to dirt with only a
smattering of stones to keep your feet from slipping in the mud.
The houses went from those made of stone and mortar, to quickly
degrading houses made of wood with thatch roofs, most of which
looked as if they wouldn’t keep a soft drizzle out of the
house.

Seeing a house that was situated at the
edge of the town with a large field behind it, Bren became curious.
He was more than a little nervous as he knocked on the door and
waited for an answer.

A golden skinned elf with silver hair
and rounded ears opened the door and looked down at him. “Can I
help you, sir?” The elf asked in a polite, servile
manner.

“I hope I am not bothering you,” Bren
said in the way of an apology. “I was just wondering what you do
within the city.”

“Sir, I farm the small field allotted
to me by the council,” the elf replied proudly.

“Would you mind telling me how that
works?” Bren asked in a subdued manner.

“Well sir, we have a little over two
acres that we tend. We grow wheat mainly, I am really good with
wheat. After harvest, we get to keep ten percent of what was grown.
We sell most of it at the market, but a lot of it we trade to other
farmers for goods.”

Ten percent, that was all. Bren knew
that his mother kept share croppers to work many of the fields
outside of the capital, but they were each given sixty percent
unless there was a shortage. Even then, it never went below forty.
“Do the human share croppers get the same deal?” Bren asked, mildly
infuriated.

“Well sir, I don’t talk much to the
human farmers,” the elf hedged.

“Jerien, you know good and well that
the humans don’t have to share the bulk of their crop,” A much
smaller female said, pushing past the male elf. “You want to know
the truth boy, whoever you are. It is that we don’t get a quarter
the same treatment as the humans. That council up in the Tower
could care less if we were here at all. I bet they would like it
much better if we all packed up and headed back to our little isle,
but as bad as things are, at least here we aren’t treated as
slaves, though it isn’t much better.”

“My apologies miss,’ Bren said, bowing
to hide his embarrassment. “I am Bren Farlane, I didn’t know that
things were so bad.”

“Farlane,” The woman said as the blood
drained from her face. “Master Torin’s son? I didn’t mean no
disrespect sir…” she continued as tears began to tease at her
metallic eyes.

“And none was taken…My father left me
the job of protecting this place. It seems as if I had not been up
to task,” Bren said in disgust.

“You’re still just a boy, we can’t
fault you for what the council has done in your father’s
absence.”

The fact that the elven woman was
trying to comfort him made everything seem worse. Why had the
council treated the elves and other magical races as if they were
nothing more than waste to be tossed aside and abused at
will?

As Bren walked away from the small
house, he didn’t know what to say or think. It went against
everything that he thought the city of magic stood for. It
certainly went against everything that his mother had taught
him.

“From the look on your face, I would
say that you didn’t enjoy your visit with the lower class,” Flynn
said in a mocking tone.

Unable to stand Flynn’s self-righteous
tone anymore, Bren grabbed the fighter by the collar and yanked him
to the ground. Not suspecting the attack, Flynn had no chance to
block the throw, nor the blows that followed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Flynn asked, kicking Bren off of him.

“I want to ask you the same question,”
Bren said angrily, as he picked himself off the ground his fists
still clutched at his side. “I understand that you don’t like me,
but I am tired of having to listen to you…Next time that you think
about talking, I might just remember my title and have you drawn
and quartered.”

“Nobles,” Flynn said, wiping the small
amount of blood that started to run from his nose.

“That would be royal in my case, and
don’t forget it again,” Bren said, pushing past Flynn as he headed
further into the non-human part of town.

“Where are you going,” Flynn yelled,
chasing after Bren. “We have indulged your foolishness enough… it’s
not safe to continue to wander around here, especially with night
coming on soon.”

“Remember that you are my guard. It
doesn’t matter where I go, or what I do, you follow,” Bren said
without hesitation. “And you can threaten to have me thrown in the
prison, but I think you will find that a bit harder than you
expect.”

Bren didn’t stop to hear if Flynn had
any other complaints, he just continued on, looking for where the
dwarves worked. He had heard that Crusher had set up a small shop
and wanted to hear his views on the current living conditions of
the non-humans. It was one thing to see with his own eyes, but
there might be things he didn’t know, and hearing it from someone
he trusted was a far better source of information.

It didn’t take long for Bren to find
the blacksmith shop he was looking for. He doubted anyone but
Crusher would use a sign with an anvil and a beer mug for their
shops marker.

“Ya drunken fool, get your hindquarters
out here before I find a nice nadarie to saddle you with,” Bren
yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could.

Within a few moments, the door swung
open with Crusher, looking none too pleased, on the other side. The
nearly four and a half foot dwarf had a bald head and smooth face,
both which were covered in sweat. “Boy, I swear, ya get that foul
attitude of yers from yer mother,” Crusher swore as he wrapped Bren
up in a tight hug that threated to break the boys bones. “I heard
ya been in town fer quite some time and ya just now getting around
ta visiting me? I should bend ya over my knee and remind ya what
manners are boy.”

“I was a little busy,” Bren said as
ducked his head.

“No excuse fer being rude ta yer old
pal, now is there?” Crusher said scowling. “Well no use worrying
about spilt ale now is there? Ain’t like it will get it ta jump
back in tha cup. What brings ya ta me little shanty?”

“I wanted to ask you about the
conditions of the non-humans within the city,” Bren said, his face
turning serious.

“I thought that might be ta case,”
Crusher said, stepping out of the way. “Ya might as well come in.
This might take a bit of telling, if ya want ta know tha
truth.”

Bren stepped inside the house and took
a quick look around. Crusher had nicely carved furniture and a
large iron table sitting in the middle of the room. Even though he
couldn’t see the forge, he knew that it was still burning due to
the excessive heat in the room that seemed to roll over him as soon
as he entered. “How can you stand to have it so hot in here?” It
must be nice in the winter, but in the heat of summer, you could
use your house to make jerky. I’m surprised that you can’t eat your
own skin already.”

“I tried that once, tasted like tha
swill you would get from a sour keg,” Crusher replied laughing.
“Now for tha reason that brought ya ta my door.”

“I figured ya or ya mother would be
coming around, though I didn’t figure it would take this long,”
Crusher said, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“Is it that bad?” Bren asked, hopping
what he had seen was the worst of it, but from the look on his
friends face, he doubted that he was right.

“It’s bad…so bad that most dwarves
won’t even travel up this way ta trade anymore. Makes it hard ta
get any good ore ta work with. That’s beside the point though. It
all started about three years after yer father went and
disappeared. The Tower started to run low on funds, so they started
dipping into the small amount of money that was collect from taxes
and trade from the region. Sae-Thae opposed it, but they didn’t
listen ta him, saying that he might be the head of the Tower, but
did not speak fer tha whole council of theirs. Once they had a
taste of the funds, they started taking a bit more fer this and
that and tha taxes started ta rise. The Tower knew that tha humans
would throw a fuss and had a lot more folks ta listen ta them, so
they placed tha burden on those without a voice.”