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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

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Hammers in the Wind (3 page)

BOOK: Hammers in the Wind
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“There’s more to life than just killing,” Nothol replied.

“Says the man boasting two of the most dangerous broadswords in the north strapped across his back,” Bahr countered. “You’re sounding like some damned cult priest. I like you better drunk.”

Dorl smirked but stayed quiet.

The Sea Wolf passed them both a mug of frothy ale. He spoke while they busied quenching their thirst. “I trust you’ve already heard what Badron’s doing? The whole damned town is buzzing with it.”

Dorl set his mug down and belched. “Aye, we have. It’s a risky operation.”

“That’s an understatement. They are the Pell Darga. It wouldn’t be much fun if it weren’t risky. What I need from you is your support. I need some good swords to watch my back.”

Nothol tried to hide his confused look as he interrupted. “I thought Badron didn’t care for his daughter?”

Bahr shrugged. “Times like this change things. Blood comes before any differences.”

“What’s your honest take on the whole thing?” Dorl asked.

“I think Badron’s up to something foul. It’s almost a hundred leagues to the mountains from Chadra Keep. Our goodly king has been sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong and the princess is paying for it.”

“Fair enough, though I doubt his sincerity. More likely he wants her back because she’s guessed some plot of his. It’s not secret he’s had his eyes set on Rogscroft for years now.”

Bahr narrowed his eyes. “That’s business for the king and his ilk. Our job is rescue, plain and simple.”

“I’d almost believe that if I didn’t know you.”

“And I wouldn’t be a good captain if I didn’t keep some secrets.”

Dorl threw his hands up. “Have it your way, but I will say this. Nothol and I both know you’ve got something up your sleeve else you wouldn’t have contacted us. It’s our ill fortune that we were dumb enough to come when you called. If things go south, we leave.”

“Are you done?” Bahr asked. His voice dropped dangerously low. He didn’t like being second guessed.

“For now. Who else have you recruited?” Dorl asked.

“I never liked a man who made a habit out of using fancy words, Dorl Theed. Makes me wonder how you slipped past my guard.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Bahr gave in and shrugged nonchalantly. “I heard old Thulu was interested.”

“The man is a drunken wash out,” Nothol snorted. “You’ve got to have someone better in mind.”

Dorl’s eyes widened. “You don’t have anyone do you?”

“It’s not my job to gather men. Harnin’s taking care of that part. All I have to do is keep you all alive.”

The Sea Wolf settled deeper into his chair. Clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation he beckoned the crewman closest to pour him another drink. Bahr didn’t like being questioned. It made him nervous. There’d been too many confrontations with Badron’s cronies over the years. He vaguely wondered what kept him anchored in Delranan. Malweir was a big place and he could have his run of the seas. Deep down inside the answer was obvious, though he was unwilling to admit it.

“These are dangerous times, lads. Times when a closed mouth is worth just as much as a sharp sword. You are either in or out. I need an answer now.”

Dorl gently pinched the bridge of his nose. He almost laughed. What was the use of pretending he still had reservations? Both men already knew what the other was going to say. “Deal, but don’t you go risking our lives for no reason.”

Bahr gave a curt nod. “Done.”

Nothol Coll shook his head. “This is only going to get worse.”

“Shut up Nothol. Get drunk and you’ll still have all your teeth come the dawn. This ain’t the time to be asking questions or complaining. You watch my back and I watch yours.”

Nothol Coll scowled and took the proffered mug.

Bahr smiled inwardly. He liked the pair and they were damned good swordsmen, even if they were a bit off for his tastes. He wished he had more friends like them. Friends, now there was a foreign term. He was the kind of man who called few men “friend,” though he knew many people. Bahr was a private man with enough secrets to damn a good number of monarchs and government officials. Men like Bahr needed to remain silent, if for no other reason than self preservation.

He quietly suspected that’s why Badron offered him the job first. He was a threat to current Delranan politics and had been a target for Badron’s assassins more than once. It was a game both sides played. Countless sailors and murderers alike lay at the bottom of the sea or under piles of random rocks because of it. Bahr had little doubt that Badron would make another try for his life this time as well. Natural suspicions arose from his conversation with the two sell swords and he was sorely tempted to ask if Badron had already gotten to them.

THREE

Evening rains had cooled the night air to a considerable chill. Bahr pulled his great overcoat closer and worked his way home from the Nest. His belly was full from a little too much to drink and his mind was troubled by the worrisome pair of Nothol Coll and Dorl Theed. They were good people, but too liberal for his liking. He wanted men who did what they were told. Combined, those two were too much to handle in large doses.

The faint patter of the last few rain drops tickled his scalp. Finally relaxed, Bahr felt the stress of the day leave. There was time enough for worry in the coming days. The sound of waves breaking comforted him. A strong desire to take to his ship and ride out to sea struggled for ascendency, but he couldn’t. Not now when the stakes were so high. Bahr did his best to shake off the nagging doubt corrupting his thoughts.  Oh well, he thought, there was nothing for it. He resigned himself to the lure of the softness of his bed in his expansive estate. Even he couldn’t resist that. Bahr turned the final corner towards his estate and headed up the porch.

“The fabled Sea Wolf of Delranan,” said a scratchy voice from the shadows in the corner before he managed another step.

Bahr’s hand instinctively, albeit drunkenly, grasped the hilt of the longer dagger at his hip.

“There’s no need for weapons with me. Besides, a fabled warrior such as you would only make short work of the likes of me.”

Bahr seriously doubted this stranger was anything but harmless. Still, he watched him with a wary eye, desperately peering into the faint porch light for answers. Smallish in stature, the stranger wore elaborate white robes worked around a tightly trimmed beard. His face was shallow and pinched, making his nose appear slightly bigger than it was. It was the eyes Bahr found most impressive. Even in the near darkness they held several lifetimes’ worth of tales. Whoever he was, this man had seen his share of the world.

“You seem to know me old man, but that leaves me with a disadvantage. I’m not the sort who appreciates that kind of situation,” Bahr said.

The stranger smiled warmly. He bore the elegance of immense wisdom charged with a certain level of lethality. His skin was leathered from countless years in the elements and he held presence as a king.

“The answer you seek is not an easy one to give. I am old beyond measure in mortal lives. I am as ancient as the setting sun and the rising moons; ancient and wicked both. I am the light and the dark. I have seen gods die and dragons born. I am the wind and snow. I, who was old when this land was still submerged beneath the seas, need no introduction.”

“None of that fancy talk really impresses me much, old timer,” Bahr bit back.

A mischievous twinkle filled his eyes. “In the interest of simplicity, my name is Anienam Keiss.”

Bahr felt his muscles spasm. He’d heard the name before. Hells, practically all of Malweir knew it. Murmurs and rumors abounded at the mention of his name. A wizard, said some. Others cursed him as the plaything of demons. No good would come of this meeting. Regardless of what men said, Anienam Keiss was a myth; the deceptive thing of legend without a face. Yet here he was standing on Bahr’s porch. The Sea Wolf suddenly felt very small.

“Ah, I can see that you have heard of me,” Anienam said with a degree of smugness.

Bahr nodded. “Every man in these parts has. Damnation, a wizard on my own front porch! How is it a creature like you manages to show up during the troubled times?”

The smaller man stood quietly watching him as if assessing the quality of his character. “Mine is the will of eternity. I come and go as the world desires. Do not seek answers your mind is incapable of understanding.”

Bahr rubbed his chin. His patience was gone. “Let’s cut to the chase. I’m in no mood for little games.”

Anienam continued, “The world is changing. Fate has summoned me to Delranan for a purpose I cannot yet fathom. What I do know is that you are at the center of it all. If you do not mind, I would speak with you under more, hospitable, conditions.”

“Why me? They say men die when you come around.”

He smiled. “You give me more credit than I deserve. Malweir would be a much different place if I had that ability. Alas, it is not so. Master Bahr, you have been chosen and only to you may I deliver my message.”

Bahr weighed his options. If Fate was involved, she was fickle bitch with a mean sense of humor. His night had progressively gotten worse. Maybe he should give in, let it ride. The other options seemed less inviting. Damnation, he growled. He eyed the old wizard and said, “Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

He wearily stalked past the old man and opened his door. The rain began to fall again.

*****

Torchlight flickered from the kiss of a cooling breeze shuffling through the upper rooms of the estate. Unlit candles lined the mantle in the main chamber and sat clustered in the middle of an expansive aged cherry wood table. Bahr motioned for Anienam to sit while he removed his jacket and snatched a bottle of spiced wine and poured them both a carafe.

“What makes me so special? I’m just one man, an insignificant speck in this world,” Bahr asked.

“Importance is an irrelevant term when dealing with tomorrow. There are powers at work here, ones that have long strained to escape back into the world and wreak havoc on us.”

Not the answer I was looking for
. “Enough of the riddles. Shoot me straight.”

Anienam sipped his wine and offered the same infuriating smile. “Very well. This endeavor you have consigned yourself to is doomed to fail. King Badron’s heart lies in the wrong place. He wishes the return of his daughter for the sole purpose of silencing her. Fatherly love is not part of the equation. She has knowledge that threatens his plans for the future. Indeed, it might have impact on the coming war.”

“What war?”

“That is the topic of another conversation. The storm is brewing. Last night was but the catalyst,” Anienam said. “The girl is the beginning.”

“That girl will likely die if we don’t go, yet you suggest I should just wait here, baton down the shutters and wait for the storm to blow out to sea.”

“On the contrary. You must go. Your future is intricately woven into the success or demise of Delranan.”

Bahr swirled the wine around his mouth a few times before swallowing. “You do realize this is a bit too much, even for me.”

“I would like to say I empathize but I have brought this same message to hundreds over the years. You are but one more cog to the great design.”

Bahr closed his eyes. All of his long life he’d tried to be a good man. A noble man. He couldn’t understand why the world was against him. In the end, his thoughts revolved around the abandoned love a father was supposed to have for his daughter.

“Badron and I have no love for each other. That much is well known. I’ve been suspicious of his motives for a long time. Harnin coming directly to me only served to make it worse.”

“He will try to kill you before it is over if that is any comfort.”

“Ha! Tell me something I don’t know. Still, I don’t like the direction this conversation has turned,” Bahr warned.

“Honesty is often our worst of foes. It always shows us our faults when we least desire them. This is not so in your case. Yes, Badron wants you dead. You pose a legitimate threat to his power, nearly as much as his own daughter.”

“Me? I know nothing of his plans or dreams for the future. Hells, he and I haven’t spoken in nearly two decades.”

Flames reflected sharply off the wizard’s eyes. The sight provoked disturbing feelings.

“Questions. Why is it mankind feels necessary to constantly ask me questions? I cannot give you the answers you seek, Bahr. That is part of my curse. The future is yet to be written; only you can discover the truths you seek.”

“Then why go through the trouble to find me?” Bahr persisted.

Anienam finished his wine and lifted his mug. “Perhaps a little more wine first. This is a very good vintage.”

Bahr refilled it and impatiently awaited at least one answer. A snarl etched across his face. “You avoid my questions. That doesn’t give me much reason to place trust in you. Ten years ago I would have thrown you out on your ass. I must be getting old. Either that or you are more persuasive than I’ve given you credit for.”

Anienam sighed. No matter how many times he’d had this conversation with men across the ages it was always the same. He would never be welcomed as a friend. His was the life of the outsider, a man never able to find a home or place to call his own. The wind, some called him. Casual indifference, others said. Regardless, Anienam Keiss did the bidding of a greater power few understood. No one bothered asking what he desired.

“Bahr of Delranan, if I could tell you the deeds you must accomplish I most certainly would. Some call what I bring a gift, others a curse. None of that is important. What is important is that your land needs you more than I can convey. Fell times ride the morning breeze. Badron’s lunge for power is but the first pebble in the pond. His actions are the catalyst of the coming war. You are necessary if Malweir is to avoid falling into the coming darkness.”

He rose and walked over to the fire. The heat warmed his tired body. Strong flames licked up from the bricks. Bahr watched them absently. More questions plagued him. Why would the wizard mention Malweir rather than Delranan? His mind raced with visions and wicked deceptions. A hero was something he never wanted to be, but Fate seemed ever eager to push him towards exactly that.

At last he spoke. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“All men do. Such is the nature of this life. The gods have plans for each of us and death is but our final task.”

“The gods you speak of don’t exist. Men haven’t had faith in several lifetimes,” Bahr shot back.

“Don’t they? Man may have forgotten their beginnings but the gods have not abandoned us. They are gone, yes. That much is true, but they still exist. A great war among them forced them to leave us to our own devices. All that is changing. The time of their return is fast approaching.” Anienam offered a half smile, weak and thin. “Before you ask, faith is not necessary for you at this juncture. All that is required is for good men to be willing to stand up to the rising tide of tyranny. This evil must not be allowed to grow. If it does, all you know and love will end in flame and ash.”

“I’m a fighting man and a damned better sailor than a husband. What I am not is a fool. For you to be in my home on this night tells me you already have good inclinations of my intentions. Very well,” he turned and stared down his guest. “If it must be said, I am accepting Badron’s offer, though for reasons of my own. This is not something I feel the need to explain.”

“Understandable.”

“Harnin ass-sniffer expects my answer tomorrow morning. He’s bringing me the men needed to find the princess and bring her back home.”

There was a frailty in his voice, as if he was unsure of the chance of success against so great an odd.

“A noble plan the king has chosen, though he knows it not. I have measured the worth of your character, Captain Bahr. I believe your heart is pure and roughly calloused. That is good. Keep the princess alive. Expect the unthinkable. I will say no more on this. It is time I take my leave. Good night.”

Bahr watched him go. He had no interest in following. Something about the old man screamed trouble. He wanted to laugh. Time was coming when this little bit of trouble would seem almost welcome. Earlier misgivings began to fade, though he remained unsure of how much he could actually trust the wizard. Blind faith was not one of Bahr’s strengths. Anienam might display the best of intentions, but that carried no weight so far as the Sea Wolf was concerned. Every man had to prove himself at some point.

“Do not get off of your ship, Sea Wolf, not until the time is right.”

Bahr soaked in the warmth of the fire as a stiff breeze struggled to rob him of it. The door closed behind Anienam, leaving the old captain alone in the night. His bones felt chilled. Maybe it was the night or maybe it was Anienam’s parting words. Whatever the answer, Bahr was inextricably intertwined with the whims of kings and wizards.

BOOK: Hammers in the Wind
11.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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