Search for Audric (10 page)

Gunnar stopped at a stall that sold writing instruments. His eyes fell upon an intricately carved wooden box that held a pen, a bottle of ink, a flat of sealing wax, and a sheath of small slips of paper. He envisioned writing a note to his family and wondered if it would be wise to even consider such a thing.

"For thirty gold you could own such a fine set," grinned the merchant.

"Thirty gold?" balked Gunnar. "What do I look like? A prince?"

"I suppose not," chuckled the merchant. "If I offended you, I will make it right. I will give you the set for only fifteen gold, and you will no longer be angry with me for mistaking you for a prince."

“It is understandable that you have mistaken me for a prince," Gunnar grinned as he fell naturally into the Odessian mode of bargaining. "I had mistaken you for an honest merchant charging a fair price."

"You slight me!" the merchant replied with mock offense. "Would you force me to sell you this fine, hand-carved box for only ten gold just to prove my honesty?"

"If the box was hand carved by the son of Prince Umal," countered Gunnar, "it would be well worth five gold."

"But Prince Umal is not even married yet," scowled the merchant.

"Then two gold is a reasonable price for its artistic value," smiled Gunnar as his fingers slid under his clothes and snared some coins from his hidden pouch.

"You are a thief!" balked the merchant. "I should call the guards and have you arrested. I will demand that you not be released until you buy the box for four gold."

"Three gold," countered Gunnar, "and that is only because the artist has potential and may someday amount to something."

"It is a deal," grinned the merchant as he took the set and wrapped it in paper. "Do you see anything else that you like?"

"Not at this time," smiled Gunnar as he took the parcel from the merchant and handed him three gold coins, "but I look forward to haggling with you in the future."

"You drive a hard bargain, friend," smiled the merchant. "I will not be so easy when next you come."

Gunnar waved to the merchant as he strode away. He felt good that he had bargained well, but he also realized that the merchant had made him buy something that he was not sure he had even wanted. Gunnar was laughing to himself when he arrived back at the wagon.

"As I thought," Kerzi greeted him with a sad smile, "there is no market for the fish. What have you bought?"

Gunnar unwrapped the box and handed it to Kerzi. The old man opened the box and nodded approvingly.

"Do you know how to write?" he asked.

"I don't know," Gunnar smiled. "Let me try it and see."

Kerzi shook his head and handed the box back to the warrior.

"I am going to get some food from a market stall," Kerzi said as he began to walk away. "I am fed up with fish for every meal. Do you want anything?"

Gunnar shook his head and took the pen out of the box. While the merchant was off getting food, Gunnar scribbled a short note and folded the paper. He fished through his hidden pouch and pulled out his ring. Grabbing a small chunk of sealing wax, he left the box on the seat of the wagon and went in search of a stall selling hot food. He found a merchant and asked him if he could seal the paper with the wax. The merchant obliged him, and Gunnar deftly rolled his ring over the hot wax.

"I got you something anyway," Kerzi said as he approached, his eyes focusing on the paper in the warrior's hands.

As Kerzi handed Gunnar a long stick with meat and peppers on it, Gunnar handed the paper to the old man and began to walk back to the wagon. Kerzi hurried to catch up to Gunnar.

"What is this?" he asked. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Let's ride," suggested Gunnar, "and I will explain on the way."

"On the way where?" Kerzi asked as he climbed onto the seat.

"To the palace," answered Gunnar. "You will hand that note to the guards at the palace gate."

"You want me to deliver this note to the palace?" Kerzi shook his head in confusion. "Why don't you do it yourself?"

"Because I will not be with you and the wagon," answered Gunnar. "I will be on my horse waiting for you elsewhere. If they ask where you got the note, tell them that a man in Koar told you to buy fish, and he gave you the note and asked that you present it to the palace."

"And then what?" frowned Kerzi. "Why are you playing games with me? Have I not treated you fairly?"

"No, you haven't," smiled Gunnar. "You have treated me too well. Do as I ask, and do not argue with the palace staff no matter what happens."

Gunnar jumped off the wagon while Kerzi negotiated a tight turn. He quickly untied his horse and watched the wagon continue onward.

Kerzi fumed at Gunnar's strange behavior. He thought about turning the wagon around and tracking the lad down, but the palace gates loomed ahead and his moment of indecision soon passed. He pulled the wagon up to the gates of the palace and handed the note to the guard. The guard looked at the note and ran towards the palace.

Within moments a man came running towards the gate, his long black ponytail swaying as he ran. He raced up to the wagon and saw the old man sitting there.

"Where did you get this note?" the runner asked.

Kerzi stated exactly what Gunnar had asked him to and held his breath as he waited to be arrested. The runner shook his head and climbed onto the seat of the wagon.

"Steer the wagon towards that door," instructed the runner as he pointed to a door at the side of the palace. "Did you know this man who gave you the note?"

"Only for a short while," replied Kerzi. "Am I being arrested?"

"Arrested?" laughed the Odessian. "Of course not. Any man that brings a load of fish to the palace is to be toasted. You will be paid the required amount when we have unloaded the wagon. What did this man look like?"

Kerzi frowned, but he described Gunnar in general terms, accidentally omitting the beard or anything else that would lead to his capture.

"I wish he had come in person," sighed the Odessian. "I fear for his safety."

"Why is that?" questioned Kerzi.

The Odessian suddenly became very cautious and very silent. He jumped from the wagon as it neared the door of the palace. Kerzi was confused about what was happening, but he saw the men at the door bow to the Odessian, and he heard them call him Prince Umal.

A lump grew in Kerzi's throat, and he wondered what he was getting involved in. He was delivering fish to an Odessian prince who happened to be afraid of what might befall the warrior he had hired. None of it made any sense. He decided to risk the wrath of the Odessians to satisfy his curiosity. He climbed off the wagon and approached the prince, but the prince saw him coming and disappeared into the palace. Frustrated, Kerzi stood and watched as the men unloaded the wagon and moved the barrels into the palace.

Just as the wagon was completely emptied, the prince reappeared. He approached Kerzi and hand him a pouch and a sealed note.

"The pouch is for you," stated the prince. "The note you shall carry with you forever until you see this man again. If you deliver the note to him personally, unopened with the seal unbroken, I will be in your debt."

"And whose debt would that be?" asked the merchant.

"I am Umal, Prince of Odessia," declared the prince. "I have added one hundred extra gold coins to your contract price for your services regarding the note. Do not surrender that note to anyone but the man who sent you with the fish. If you do, the wrath of the nation of Odessia will fall upon your head and all your heirs for a thousand years. Do you understand?"

"Quite clearly," gulped the merchant. "Is there any chance that you will tell me who this man is?"

"Your wagon is empty," smiled the prince. "It is time for you to leave now."

Kerzi climbed onto the seat of the wagon and drove out through the gates of the palace. He hefted the pouch with one hand and his eyebrows rose. As he was looking for a place to pull the wagon out of the street, Gunnar rode up alongside him.

"If you let me tie up my horse," grinned Gunnar, "I will ride with you."

Kerzi was used to being in control of his life. He was not a very successful merchant, but he always did things his own way. The happenings since hiring Gunnar had finally gotten under his skin, and he was about to give the lad a piece of his mind. He slowed the team to a halt without saying a word to the warrior. He waited patiently until Gunnar was seated next to him and then he whipped the reins.

"I do not know what game you are playing with me, lad," Kerzi began, "but you are making me sorry that I hired you."

"What do you mean?" Gunnar asked with surprise. "Did they not buy your fish?"

"They bought the fish," scowled Kerzi, "and then the Odessian prince threatened my life. I feel as if you are making me charge headlong into a snowdrift. I will have no more secrets from you."

"Threatened your life?" frowned Gunnar. "I do not understand. Did you say the prince threatened you? Do you mean Prince Umal? Is he here in Oran?"

"Stop playing games!" shouted Kerzi. "There is only one prince in Odessia. Everyone knows that."

"Yes," Gunnar nodded as his eyes stared through the floor of the wagon. "I did not realize that he would be in Oran. He is usually in Natura at this time of year."

Kerzi pulled back on the reins and halted the wagon in the middle of the street.

"You know Prince Umal?" the merchant asked accusingly. "I mean personally?"

"I do," nodded Gunnar. "I am sorry, Kerzi. I never intended to put you in such a situation. The note that I gave you merely asked the palace to buy your fish. I had no way of knowing that it would be delivered into the hands of Prince Umal. I am sure that Umal would never really harm you. He is not that type of ruler."

"How does a vagabond know the prince of Odessia?" asked Kerzi.

"You are blocking the street," Gunnar pointed out. "Let us have a truce while we exit the city. We shall make camp and discuss things. I will try to tell you as much as I can without revealing too much. That is the best that I can promise."

"I have enough money to afford an inn for the night," Kerzi shook his head. "We still have a load of grain to pick up for Caxon and it is getting too late today."

"Then we will come back into the city tomorrow," objected Gunnar. "I would prefer to get out of the city."

"For a lad who signed onto a merchant's wagon," scowled Kerzi, "you sure have an aversion to cities. Did it ever occur to you that most merchants could care less what their warrior's desire?"

"That is what makes you special, Kerzi," grinned Gunnar. "I knew you were different the day I met you."

"Bah," chuckled the old man. "You fought for my wagon before you even met me. Don't try to spoon honey down an old man's throat."

Gunnar was relieved that he had been able to bring the merchant to at least laugh a bit. He truly had not expected Prince Umal to be in the city. He wondered what his Odessian friend would do with the information he now possessed. He could write a letter to Anatar and inform his family that Antion was seen alive in Koar, but that was likely to upset King Caedmon more than assure him, especially if the king knew about the wanted posters in Borunda.

Kerzi knew the area around Oran fairly well, and the wagon was soon parked next to the river in a secluded spot. The old man methodically started a fire and began fixing the evening meal. Gunnar tended to the horses and soon the two men were sitting next to the fire eating.

"Lad," sighed Kerzi, "I know that you are in some terrible trouble, and I am willing to do what I can to help you, but I cannot take being pulled like a puppet on a string. You either have to satisfy my curiosity, or we have to part ways."

"I know that I have been a great pain in your side, Kerzi," replied Gunnar, "but I never intended any of it. My plan was to hire on with a merchant and get lost until affairs became clearer to me. I did not expect to see my picture in Koar. You must believe me."

"So far I believe you," the merchant responded. "Why send me with fish to the palace? And what was in that note?"

"I know Prince Umal rather well," declared Gunnar. "I rode with him in Natura when I was younger. In one of our conversations, he mentioned that he enjoyed trips to other countries because it gave him chances to sample their cuisine. He is actually rather fond of fish, but as you pointed out, no merchant is foolish enough to haul fish to a country where the people will not buy it."

"So you had planned all along to sell the fish to the royal palace?" inquired Kerzi.

"I knew that you would be able to sell it in Oran," nodded Gunnar. "I would have been pleased if it had sold in the marketplace, but I felt good knowing there was an alternative market for it."

"And what did you say in the note?" questioned the old man.

"I merely said that you were delivering fish from Koar as requested," grinned Gunnar, "and that I hoped the royal family would enjoy it. I also apologized for not paying for the fish and would be pleased if they would remunerate the driver of the wagon by giving him six hundred gold coins."

"Six hundred gold coins!" gasped the merchant. "That is twice what I paid for it."

"It is a small price to pay for the royal family to indulge in fine cuisine once in a while," chuckled Gunnar. "Did they quarrel about the price?"

"They never raised an eyebrow," Kerzi shook his head. "Whoever you are, Gunnar, you were born to be a merchant. There is still one thing that bothers me. Why would the royal palace accept a note from you? And why would the prince of Odessia be so concerned about your welfare?"

"Prince Umal was concerned for my welfare?" Gunnar swallowed hard. "What did he say?"

"He gave me a note to pass on to you when next we met," answered the merchant as he produced the note. "He gave me one hundred gold to make sure it got into your hands, and he threatened to kill me if I gave it to anyone else."

"Prince Umal has heard of my troubles then," frowned Gunnar as he tore the note open. "I am truly sorry to have gotten you involved in all this, Kerzi. Perhaps it is better if I do part company with you."

Gunnar's eyes fell to the note, and he read its contents. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Gunnar," Kerzi said softly, "as much as I grumble about you, I know deep in my heart that you are a fine lad. I also know that you are in serious trouble. My body is old, and I have led a good and long life. There is nothing that anyone can do to threaten me. You are welcome to stay with me as long as it suits you. I will accept that there are some things that you cannot divulge to me at this time, but I just ask you to be more open with me when you can be."

"I am privileged to have such friends as I have," Gunnar said tearfully, "and I warmly count you among them. I do fear that death and destruction will follow me wherever I go, and it is not fair to you to make you part of that."

"Unless I am mistaken," replied the merchant, "your friend Prince Umal has just offered to take you to Natura where you can hide. Is that where you will go?"

"And it would be one of the first places they would look for me," nodded Gunnar. "I cannot go there as much as I would like to just run and hide until everything gets better."

"They would actually try to find you in Natura?" balked Kerzi. "I cannot imagine anyone that brash unless they are Odessian."

"They are not Odessian, but they are desperate," replied Gunnar. "I cannot think of any place in the world they would not search for me, but it doesn't matter. I cannot just hide. I have searching of my own to do."

"What are you searching for?" asked the old man.

"Knowledge," answered Gunnar. "I seek one who knows everything about the Talent."

"Curse the Talent," swore Kerzi. "I have heard of men driven insane through the use of those dark arts. That is not something you want to know about. That is something to be feared. It is not natural what those people do."

"But there are good and wholesome uses of the Talent," retorted Gunnar. "Would you throw them away with the bad?"

"I would," Kerzi nodded emphatically. "Thousands of mothers have children without the need for a wisper. I say it all should be purged from this world. Yes, I would give up the good to make the bad perish."

"Well," sighed Gunnar, "that is not an option available to me. Do you have any idea where I might find a master of the Talent?"

"There are wispers in most cities," replied the merchant, "but I am sure that you are aware of that. I reckon you are looking for something of a greater power."

"I am," nodded Gunnar. "I must find someone who understands the very nature of the Talent, and I have no idea where to look."

"Well," smiled the merchant, "you certainly can't go around asking yourself now, can you? It seems like you may be stuck with this old man after all."

"Is that wise?" questioned Gunnar. "Now that you understand that I am being pursued by those who wield the Talent, you must also understand the danger. When I said that I could not share the truth because my enemy can reach out and take it from your mind, you now know that I spoke the truth."

"Aye, lad," the merchant nodded with determination, "but the Talent cannot pierce every mind. I suspect that those who were driven insane were probably weak-minded to begin with. Besides, if I am ever captured, you will know enough to alter your path to one I cannot anticipate. My very absence will be a warning to you."

"Let us hope it never comes to that," replied Gunnar. "We should try for an early start tomorrow. I would not be surprised if Prince Umal has asked his agents to search for you and follow you in the hopes that you will lead him to me."

"Then an early start we will get," agreed the merchant. "You will stay here when I go into the city in the morning. If I detect anyone following me, I will sit at the far right of the wagon's seat and not stop to pick you up."

* * *

In the morning Kerzi departed for the city of Oran. Gunnar and his horse remained at the campsite by the river and watched as the wagon passed through the gates in the outermost wall.

Kerzi was particularly alert as he made his way through the city. One advantage of his habit of taking a circuitous route to the marketplace was that it made it easy to tell if he was being followed. No one paid any attention to the old merchant. He made his way to the grain merchant and had his wagon loaded.

On his way out of the city, he also took a circuitous route, and again he was not followed. Still, a pair of watchful eyes did indeed plot his progress through the city. Unaware that he was being observed, Kerzi made his way through the city gates and onto the road northward towards the Kyland-Caxon Road. His eyes looked towards the campsite as he passed it, but Gunnar was not there. The merchant began to worry about the lad, but he did not slow nor alter his course.

Kerzi rode north for about an hour and still there was no sign of his warrior. As he started up a steep incline, he decided to turn around and head back to Oran. He would not abandon the lad, no matter what danger awaited him. It was not a rational thought, but an emotional one. He felt in his heart that the lad was special in some way, and he knew he was in need of help. That much was obvious.

Kerzi checked the steepness of the incline and decided that it would be foolish to turn sideways with a load of grain, so he decided to continue to the top where it would be safer to turn around. As he reached the summit of the small hill, Gunnar was waiting for him.

"I was just about to turn around and go looking for you," called Kerzi.

"This was a great place to wait and see if you were followed," grinned Gunnar. "I hope I didn't worry you too much."

"In fact, you did," Kerzi chuckled with relief, "but I will get over it. Did you see anyone behind me?"

"Not a soul," Gunnar shook his head as he tied his horse to the back of the wagon and climbed up on the seat. "Did you manage the grain alright?"

"A couple of boys loaded it for me," nodded Kerzi. "Now we can settle in for a nice long ride. It will take us a couple of weeks to get to Caxon, and we don't have to worry about smelling any fish."

"Are you still sore about that?" laughed Gunnar. "I told you that we would get rid of it."

"You rascal," the old man took a swipe at Gunnar. "You must have been laughing all the way from Koar to Oran."

"Actually," Gunnar admitted, "it has been a long time since I had a good laugh. I really miss my family, and I wonder how they are doing without me." He paused thoughtfully. "Do you have any family, Kerzi?"

"Nah," the old man shook his head. "I did have a wife once, but she up and died on me many years ago. That was when the plague was going around. Bah, what am I talking about? That was years before you were born."

"I remember reading about it," Gunnar said softly. "It was a terrible time for the Land of Nine Kingdoms. I am sorry about your loss."

"Nothing to be sorry for, lad," shrugged the merchant. "Many families lost loved ones in those years."

"I guess you never married again?" asked the warrior

"Nope," replied the old man. "Can we change the subject?"

The wagon had reached the bottom of the hill and was climbing the next. As they neared the crest of the small hill, dozens of warriors sat on their horses blocking the road. Gunnar's hand went immediately for his sword.

"Leave your sword where it is, lad," ordered the merchant. "I will not throw your life away on a load of grain. We will give them whatever they want."

"They are horse people," remarked Gunnar. "I have never known them to be bandits."

"Doesn't matter much," shrugged Kerzi. "We are stopping."

Kerzi pulled back on the reins as he crested the hill and applied the brake. The warriors didn't move. They just sat on their horses blocking the road.

"I am going to go talk to them," declared Gunnar as he jumped down from the wagon.