Warden (11 page)

Chapter 19

They broke camp early the next morning, before the sun was even up. It was the earliest that Errol could recall Bander rousing them, but he had no complaints. Before another sunset, he’d be in Apolos.

It took them about an hour to leave the Badlands behind and actually reach the road. At that point, the sun was just coming up. Errol’s horse sauntered along next to Bander’s. Their early departure was allowing them to take it easy on the horses, who had been pushed to the breaking point.

“Any advice for me for when we get there?” Errol asked. “With the Wardens?”

“You don’t need advice,” Bander said. “Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”

“What about the city? Any particular sights I should take in?”

“It might be better to ask Jaden about that. I’ve no idea what venues they have these days that might tickle a young man’s–”

Bander stopped mid-sentence and jerked his head around – as did everyone else – towards the wooded area they had recently vacated, from whence an earsplitting scream, long and undulating, had just sounded.

“What was
that
??!!” asked Pierce, eyes wide.

“I don’t know,” Jaden said. “Maybe some animal getting attacked.”

“More like some monster going
on
the attack,” Prap said.

While his companions batted around possible theories about the source of the sound, Errol couldn’t help but feel that they were wrong. To him, it wasn’t the scream of a primal hunter or the fearful howl of some creature’s prey. To Errol, the scream had been…woeful, a cry of unimaginable anguish. That said, it was the Badlands, where death – as well as anguish and woe – were pretty common.

With that, Errol turned his thoughts back to what things would be like in Apolos. He decided to take Bander’s advice and ask Jaden about the city’s sights.

“Oh boy!” Jaden said with a smile upon receiving the question. “There’s so much to do…”

Jaden then launched into a description of various people, places, and things that Errol shouldn’t leave the city without seeing. He was interrupted by Prap, however, who had his own ideas about who and what in Apolos offered the most memorable experiences. Choosing to let them argue, Errol extracted himself from the conversation and let his horse fall into step with that of Pierce, who was humming a song to himself.

Prap and Jaden were still in heated discussion hours later when Errol began to feel the hairs on his neck rise. He looked around, but didn’t see anything that would cause his current feeling of unease. He felt that maybe it was his imagination, but when the sensation didn’t go away after a few minutes, he knew what it was. He urged his horse forward until he was next to Bander.

“We’re being–” Errol began.

“Followed,” Bander finished. “Yes, I know.”

“Is that common?”

“Not for this road. Not this close to the city.”

At that moment, Jaden rode up, looking concerned.

“Yes, we know,” Errol said before Jaden could speak. “We’re being followed.”

Jaden was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Any idea what it is?”

“No, but it’s not human,” Errol said, making a statement based on gut instinct rather than empirical evidence. He looked at the trees, which lined both sides of their course but were cleared well back from the road. Therefore, if something were to come at them from the woods, they should have ample time to see it coming.

“Well, it’s not anything we have to worry about,” Bander said, pointing. “Look.”

They were just coming around a bend, and as Errol looked into the direction indicated, Apolos came into view.

Chapter 20

As they rode through its streets, Errol had to admit that the city seemed far more impressive from a distance. On the road, the towers and spires had appeared dazzling and grand, as had the high wall that ran around the perimeter of Apolos. He’d imagined the half-million people who formed the city’s population living in unparalleled splendor and prosperity. Now that he was here, however, he saw something entirely different than the mental picture he had created over the years.

There were people everywhere; Errol could see more people on one street here than he’d see in a month back in Stanchion. Dirty, scrawny people who looked utterly unwashed and desperately underfed – and in some cases, just plain desperate.

As they traveled down one of the major streets, someone opened up a window above them and dumped out the contents of a chamber pot, apparently aiming for an open and exposed section of the city’s sewers that was nearby. (Errol counted himself fortunate that nothing splashed on him.) They went by an alehouse playing loud music just as its door burst open and two drunkards staggered outside, fighting. They passed below a balcony full of women wearing rouge, lip coloring, and little else, who shouted down things at Errol that made him turn red and made his companions burst into laughter. Last but not least, the air was filled with a constant foul stench that no breeze could blow away. (When he asked about the smell, Bander told him that it was the city’s sewers and that he’d get used to it – something Errol found highly unlikely.)

In short, Errol quickly reached the conclusion that Apolos was overcrowded, dirty, and smelly. He also got to add “dishonest” to his list of descriptive phrases when, dismounting to lead his horse through a narrow street, a young boy bumped into him.

“Sorry, sir,” the young boy said, before turning to dash away.

He didn’t get very far, as Bander – who had been walking ahead of Errol – gripped the boy solidly by the scruff of his neck.

“Hand it over,” Bander said, holding out his hand.

Sadly, the boy placed a moneybag in the older Warden’s palm. It took Errol a moment to realize that it was his.

“Go on, you little pickpocket,” Bander said, roughly shoving the boy away. He handed the bag over to a still-shocked Errol. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Errol said. “I didn’t even know it was gone. Does that happen a lot?”

“Usually not to Wardens. They typically avoid us, but he could tell that you were new.”

“How’s that?”

“Because you’re looking around like a blind man who’s suddenly received his sight.”

After that, Errol tried not to be so conspicuous in observing his surroundings.

*****

Pierce broke away from the others at one of the many alehouses they passed, feeling that he needed to start seeking out employment opportunities. Everyone promised that they’d come hear him play once he got settled.

After saying their goodbyes to the minstrel, Errol was eager for them to continue on their way to Wellkeep, the headquarters of the Wardens. It was actually located on a sizable estate on the far side of the city. Fortunately for Till, the headquarters for the scribes, Ad Astra, was located right next door – the two organizations worked closely together and even shared an expanse of acreage between them.

As they grew closer to their destination, however, it was decided that the headquarters of the scribes should be their first stop.

“
We really need to get Till looked at,” Bander had said, and not even Errol – despite his impatience to get to Wellkeep – disagreed.

Everyone took it as a good sign that, as they had gotten closer to the headquarters of his Order, Till seemed to become more animated. Apparently the thought of being put into the care of his fellow scribes had given him some measure of hope regarding his condition. Thus it was that, by the time they reached Ad Astra, he was almost his old self again.

As they approached the headquarters of the scribes, Errol took in the building. It was a large, beaming edifice with an imposing white tower on each of its four corners and a large rounded dome over its center. Various other buildings of unknown utility dotted the landscape around it.

Upon arriving, they were greeted outside by an apprentice scribe, whom Till instructed to stable his horse and take his gear to his room. Then he marched inside as though he owned the place with Prap, Errol, and Bander following quietly behind him. (Thankfully, while Till had been giving instructions about his own mount, Jaden had generously offered to take the others’ horses to the Wardens’ stable so that they could escort Till inside.)

The interior of Ad Astra was quite impressive. Unlike the city in general, the scribe headquarters seemed to be kept in squeaky clean condition, as were its residents. Polished stone made up the floors, and exquisite artwork lined the walls. All about them, scribes of various levels of seniority seem to be scurrying about, intent on completing some mission.

Till stopped a fellow who was hurrying past with an armful of scrolls.

“
Please take this young man to Master Algim’s solar,” Till said, indicating Errol.

The younger scribe started to protest, but Till would brook no naysaying.
“
Now,” he said with a fierce look on his face.

The younger scribe sighed and then motioned his head in a way that indicated Errol should follow him. Errol turned to Bander, unsure of what to do.

“
It’s okay,” Bander said.
“
Go ahead and go with him. One of the scribes can show you over to Wellkeep when you finish here, so I’ll just see you later.”

With that, they shook hands (Errol even shook Prap’s) and parted ways, with Errol following the young scribe and his companions dogging Till’s footsteps.

Chapter 21

His guide was plainly a man on a mission, walking through the building with single-minded purpose, clearly knowing where he needed to go, and Errol had to scramble to keep up. About ten minutes later, after walking up various stairways, down numerous long hallways, and past more than one overstuffed library (where dozens of scribes sat at desks, scribbling away madly on parchment), they arrived at a set of double doors that marked the entry to some private chamber. Errol thought that he could hear movement inside.

The young scribe knocked politely on the door. They waited a few moments, during which time there was no answer. The young man knocked again, this time more forcefully.

“
Alright,” said a voice from inside.
“
I’m coming. I’m old, you know.”

A second later, Errol heard the sound of a bolt being thrown, and then the door creaked slightly as it was pulled open. Standing in the doorway was an elderly gentleman in the robes of a scribe. His gray hair was slightly unkempt, and his beard, of the same color, was long but neatly trimmed. Despite the lines in his face indicating advanced age, his eyes were bright and shiny, indicating that mentally he was as sharp as ever.

The old man glanced back and forth between Errol and the scribe.
“
Yes?” he asked.

“
My apologies for disturbing you, Master Algim,” said the young scribe.
“
However, I was ordered to bring this Warden to your solar.” He nodded in Errol’s direction.

“
Well, thank you very much,” said Master Algim, effectively dismissing the junior scribe. He then turn to Errol.
“P
lease come in.”

Master Algim took a step backwards, pulling the door open and Errol did as he was bid. Once past the threshold, the door was quickly closed behind him, and he now found himself in a large chamber.

Against one wall, Errol saw several bookshelves full of thick tomes. Several desks, most of which were covered with books, scrolls, and various bric-a-brac, were strewn about the room. There was also a humongous table in the center of the chamber where a detailed chart of the stars was currently open, its four corners being held down by various books. A wooden staircase led up to a second floor, where Errol could see a landing that appeared to lead out to a balcony.

The elderly scribe extended a hand towards Errol.
“
I’m Master Algim, as you heard. And you are?”

Errol shook the offered hand.
“
Errol Magnus.”

“
Magnus?” the man said, brow wrinkling.
“
That’s a well-respected name among the Wardens.”

“
Yes. My family’s been at it for a long time.”

“
Indeed. I think I knew your grandfather – Hugo.”

“
That would actually be my great-grandfather,” Errol noted with a smile.

“
Really? I guess I’m older than I thought,” Master Algim said with a wink.
“
A good man nonetheless.”

Errol nodded in agreement, still grinning. He decided that he liked Master Algim.

“
Well, what do you think of our humble abode?” the scribe asked, spreading his arms to indicate not just the room, but the building they were in.

“
Impressive,” Errol said truthfully.

“Yes. The name, Ad Astra, actually means ‘to the stars’ and is the motto of the scribes. It is meant to imbue high aspirations among those of our Order, and the building was constructed with that in mind.”

Errol just nodded, unsure as to whether the scribe’s words invited comment.

“
Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to reminisce about people who lived decades before you were born or to discuss ancient maxims. That being the case, what can I do for you, Warden?” Master Algim asked.

Errol pulled out his Wendigo dagger.
“
I believe I’m here because of this.”

Master Algim stared at the blade for a moment, clearly surprised, and then gingerly reached a hand towards it.

“
May I?” he asked, looking at Errol, who nodded.

The scribe gently took the dagger from Errol’s hand as though it was a serpent that would bite him. He turned it over in his hands several times, methodically scanning the symbols and runes on both sides, looking it up and down.

“
Extraordinary…” Master Algim muttered.
“
I heard that this was coming, but I had no idea that it would be…”

He trailed off, suddenly staring into space and lost in his own thoughts, leaving Errol to wonder what he had been about say.

Errol coughed gently, helping to bring the scribe back to himself.

“
I’m sorry,” Master Algim said.
“
I wandered off there for a second, mentally. Now, it’s my understanding that you’re going to be here for at least a few days. Do you mind if I keep this to study it until you’re ready to leave?”

Errol thought about this for a moment. He’d known since Till first asked him for his dagger that at some point he’d receive a request to release it for examination. It was something he had not been looking forward to, as he had come to greatly rely upon the weapon. (There was also the risk that he might not get it back.)

Truth be told, however, Errol had known for quite some time that he needed answers about the dagger: its powers, limitations, etc. He was unlikely to get a better opportunity than this, and – more to the point – he felt he could trust Master Algim. Thus, as loathe as he was to part with the dagger, he gave his assent for the scribe to keep it.

“
Thank you,” Master Algim said.
“
I’ll treat it as if it were my own. Come by in a day or two and I should have something to tell you about it.”

Master Algim walked over to a corner of the room and pulled on a hanging cord of rope. A bell jingled, and a few seconds later the door opened and another scribe entered.

“
Please escort the Warden here to Wellkeep,” Master Algim said. The new scribe acknowledged this order with a nod towards Master Algim and then beckoned Errol to follow him.