The Grim Wanderer (29 page)

‘He was once a great captain and general,’ Argan whispered. ‘
The Grim Wanderer
men named him. Those of us who have seen into his dark eyes, we know well why men call him Grim. Although he never led the Border Legion into battle, all us warriors followed him. Always the Wanderer was where the fighting was thickest. His presence lifted us, and his mighty sword destroyed the Nargs.’ Argan shook his fist. ‘The Wanderer could wield that mighty sword faster than any man who has ever walked Hathlore. I saw it blow Nargs asunder! Destroy them with one touch. It was as if the enchanted blade knew of its master’s rage, and the Nargs soon learnt to fear him.’

‘The Wanderer’s sword,’ Lockfor said greedily, ‘must be a weapon of great power.’

Taem glared at Lockfor.

‘On the seventeenth night,’ Argan went on, ‘I remember a full moon looming in the night sky. The Nargs concentrated their forces, bringing a monstrous battering ram to smash the gates. For two hours they crashed on the doors of Cragmir with the ram, whilst we pelted them with arrows, bolts, stones, tar and fire. Countless Nargs were killed, but there were always more to take up the battering ram again.’

Taem and his friends listened with bated breath. Argan’s words conjured pictures in Taem’s mind, and he could almost imagine being there at the siege of Cragmir.

‘Despite our best efforts,’ Argan murmured, ‘the gates eventually cracked and splintered, and the Border Legion was ordered to retreat, to take up the defence of the second tier. We Borderers abandoned the first gate and the outer wall, and I remember running for the second tier, but my comrades were shouting. I turned to look, and saw a unit of besieged men were trapped inside the city’s first gatehouse. Below these doomed men, Nargs continued to smash against the battered gates, and we all could see the gates would soon give way. The Borderer commander ordered us to continue the retreat, to abandon the men trapped in the gatehouse to certain death, so the Legion could be ready to defend the second tier.’

‘You left those men to die?’ Baek asked.

‘It was the only decision our commander could make,’ Argan said. ‘To try and save those men would have risked breaching the whole city. That is the way of war, Baek. Some brave men die so that others can live. So it was with heavy hearts that we retreated to the second gate. But,’ Argan held up a fist, ‘when the first wall’s gates came crashing down, and the smoke cleared away, all us Borderers could see
one
man standing in the open gateway.’

Forgrun gasped. And Taem felt his heart surge.

‘The Grim Wanderer stood alone,’ Argan said proudly, ‘barring the Nargs’ entry to the city. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen, and I’ll never see the like of it again. As the Nargs rushed him, the Wanderer’s sword flashed. I watched as he battled the enemy, moving like no other man can. He struck down any of the beastmen that made it through those broken gates, until there were heaped piles of slaughtered Nargs. The beastmen had to trample over their fallen to reach the Wanderer, but any Narg that came within range of his blade died. It was impossible that one man could stand against so many, but the Light was with him.’

‘How could one man hold back an army?’ Lockfor asked.

‘Somehow he cut them all down,’ Argan said reverently. ‘Whatever mighty power was in the Grim Wanderer – I know not. But hold back an army he did, alone, in that narrow gap. Seeing this courage, we soldiers of the Border Legion charged back to the gate. The Wanderer had bought time for the men trapped in the gatehouse to escape, and they had managed to get out, but instead of heading to the second tier in retreat they took up position either side of the Grim Wanderer, and helped him hold the broken gates.’

Baek, Forgrun and Taem listened in incredulously. Taem was hanging off Argan’s every word.

‘We Borderers surged out into the Narg horde beyond the gates,’ Argan said, ‘setting upon them with fury. It was dangerous to leave the protection of the city walls, but the Wanderer was at our head, and he gave every man heart.’ Argan smiled as he remembered the glory of that battle. ‘Onward we pushed, decimating the Dark Horde until they could take no more. The enemy turned and fled north, their twisted tails between their legs. The Wanderer had turned the tide of the battle, and a great victory had been won for the Light. There is no Borderer alive who does not revere the Grim Wanderer, and owe homage to his courage and skill.’

Taem had been so enraptured by Argan’s story, that he had forgotten where he was as he envisioned the great defence of Cragmir. He looked at his friends, and saw they had been as captivated by the tale as he. Forgrun had even forgotten about his beer!

Rani raised his tankard to Argan’s story, ‘Even amongs’ we Rhungars I do hear ye name an’ some o’ ye legends. He be ye man who crusades agains’ ye Dark. Ter wander bravely where nay others would dare. Ye man who could nay be killed.’ Rani raised up his tankard in salute.

‘Do it be true?’ Braknar asked. ‘What I do hear abou’ ye Wanderer avengin’ murder o’ family by Narg raidin’ party? He do Track ’em back o’er ye border inter Zezometh, do kill ’em all an’ be rescuin’ a girl-child they do take as play-thing?’

‘There are many legends of the Grim Wanderer's heroic deeds,’ Argan said wistfully.

‘He do sound like Rhungari brother who do swear himself ter Gromm,’ Rani said to Braknar and Forgrun.

‘If only we could get this Wanderer to come with us and follow my map,’ Lockfor said.

‘May as well wish for wings to fly us into the Lost Realms,’ Argan laughed. ‘You think the Wanderer would go on a quest for gold? Were you not listening?’

Lockfor’s eyes narrowed.

‘Aye, but how abou’ this Drual Dhagren then?’ Braknar asked. ‘I be hearin’ abou’ him. It do sound like ’e do be useful.’ The Rhungar downed the rest of his tankard, and signalled the serving girls to bring him another.

‘Dhagren is an adventurer,’ Argan said contemptuously, ‘
not
a warrior.’

‘But don’ he be ye richest an’ mos’ successful adventurer o’ our times?’ Rani asked.

‘It is true.’ Argan said. ‘He is the most
prosperous
adventurer of our time. But I’ve heard his mouth is bigger than his deeds, and his arrogance is matched only by how much the ladies fall for his smile.’

‘He is a talented thief,’ Lockfor said, ‘of that there is no doubt, but I’ve heard he’s no warrior.’

‘Neveryeless,’ Rani said, ‘this Drual Dhagren do be soundin’ useful. Do there be any chance o’ recruitin’ him?’

Argan and Lockfor glanced at each other, and the two men laughed out loud.

‘No,’ Argan said, ‘he’s too happy where he is at the moment. He’s famous.’ The Sarcaedian warrior said bitterly. ‘Men listen to his stories, and women swoon at his feet. He’s very wealthy, and
far
too comfortable. Dhagren has no reason to head back eastwards, to risk danger and death.’

‘What about you three,’ Lockfor asked Baek, Forgrun and Taem.

‘We do see what yhee can do,’ Rani dipped his head to Forgrun, ‘Yhee do be great warrior.’

Forgrun sat up straight, with a self-satisfied look on his face.

‘An Aborle seldom leaves his homeland,’ Lockfor said to Baek, ‘and only when he’s got the adventuring streak in him.’

‘And you, Lad?’ Argan said to Taem. ‘You’re dressed like a farmboy, but there’s something different about you. I've soldiered for many years, I know a strong character when I see one.’

‘We have something in mind already,’ Taem said.

‘Shame,’ Lockfor muttered, ‘there’s a lot of gold to be had at the end of this map,’ the Wizard patted a jacket pocket where his prized map must have been. ‘We’ll each have an equal share?’

‘No,’ Taem said decisively, ‘my Master has a task for us.’

‘Ah, you’re a squire,’ Argan nodded. ‘I guess your lord took you from your village to be his second, and teach you how to fight? You’re loyal to him, I respect that. Leave them be lads,’ Argan said to his adventuring colleagues, ‘they’re already taken.’

‘An’ yhee, Forgrun?’ Rani said. ‘Yhee will nay come with thy own kind?’

‘By Kaladim,’ Forgrun put a fist on his heart, ‘I mus’ stay with Taem an’ Baek ‘ere. I give them me oath.’

‘Be fair enough,’ Rani said gruffly, looking at Forgrun with surprise.

‘Who be we goin’ ter get then?’ Braknar asked. ‘There be a lot o’ Krun in ye Lost Realms. We do be needin’ some more adventurers, in case we be hunted an’ surrounded?’

‘But,’ Lockfor said slyly, ‘the four of us could slip through unnoticed where a larger group might be seen. And,
less people to split the spoils with
?’

Taem did not trust the devious glint in Lockfor’s eye. There was no way Taem would ever be going to the Lost Realms in Lockfor’s company.

Baek, Forgrun and Taem left the new group of adventurers to their planning, and their talk of future riches and glory – the very same discussion that was going on at dozens of tables throughout the Entertainment Quarter. Even though it was late, Hirandar and Logan had not returned by the time the three younger companions went to their beds.

The companions sat down in the Sceptre Room for a late breakfast. Taem had never seen Logan dressed this way before. His normal countryman’s clothes were gone. Logan was clean-shaven, and his boots had been polished until they shone. He was garbed in a stylish black silk shirt and trousers of the finest brown suede. Around his neck he wore a courtly cloak made of blue silk – an ostentatious item of clothing that would offer little warmth and protection out in the wilderness. The Sodan Master stood and walked as if he had been born to be a lord.

‘Before you three say anything,’ Logan said stubbornly, ‘it was all Hirandar’s idea.’

‘But,’ Forgrun smiled, ‘I be goin’ ter say how smooth yhee do look.’

‘Yes,’ Hirandar smirked at Logan’s discomfort, ‘it was my idea. Logan has an appointment with a king. I’d wager, this meeting will be in front of the whole court, so King Balthus can show he
personally
knows the Grim Wanderer.’

Logan scowled at that, but Hirandar shrugged, ‘If Logan turned up looking like he was setting off on an adventure, people would want to know where he was going, and what he was doing. Maybe even swear to follow him. But,’ Hirandar held up her index finger, ‘if Logan turns up looking every inch the settled nobleman, no one will question him when he says he no longer seeks to wage his lonely war.’

Taem nodded thoughtfully. There was more to going to court than Taem realised.

‘Whilst Logan heads off to the castle,’ Hirandar said, ‘You three can come with me to look around the city.’

Beak beamed from ear to ear.

Soon after, the four companions left Logan behind at the Jester Inn and were walking the bustling streets of the Entertainment Quarter. The companions headed eastwards, into the Industrial sector of the city, where they saw hundreds of carpenters working in the furniture workshops, and countless men and women toiling in the forges and kilns of the giant factories. Continuing east, the companions crossed the river Treymar on one of the city’s many bridges. The bridge was as wide as a road, so horse-drawn traffic could cross, and was made of grey stone from the mountains. Taem marvelled at how the bridge had been carved by masons so that at each end it had gates – imitations of the true Gateway to the East.

Once the companions reached the eastern side, Taem sensed how the tone of the city changed. Everything here was ordered and polished. The pace was slower, the streets were tidy, and the buildings were smarter. Taem inhaled, smelling perfume, flowers and cleanliness – a contrast to the toil and grime of the Industrial sector. He also saw how Defenders of the Gate were present in force, unlike in the rest of the city.

‘It’s so quiet and peaceful here,’ Taem said, ‘compared to the noise and bustle just across the river.’

‘This is the grandeur of the Old Quarter,’ Hirandar spread her arms wide. ‘This is the rich area of Dolam, so have a care. We may not be so welcome here.’

Taem saw that the few people that walked through the Old Quarter wore fine clothes, as they strolled down the wide, stone-paved streets. Taem gaped at the elegant buildings. Many were set back from the roads by park-like gardens, and concealed by screens of trees.

The companions soon reached the Scholastic Quarter, with its libraries, museums and university. Taem was conscious that he and his companions were drawing glares from some haughty nobles they passed. Although the Rhungar seemed exempt from those critical stares, it was the old woman in the faded red travelling dress, the woodsman and the young farmboy those disdainful eyes followed. It was their clothes, Taem realised, and their weapons. Their clothes had been cleaned, but had seen weeks on the road, and countless nights sleeping under the stars. Hirandar was not bothered though, so Taem tried not to be either.

The Wizard took the companions to the edge of the Ecclesial Quarter – a cluster of churches, temples and a cathedral – which was nestled up against the city walls in the east. She led the warriors to a clubhouse of sweeping marble archways and galleried walkways. They climbed three levels of stairs, up into a glasshouse that led out onto a roof terrace. Taem thought the doorman was not going to let them in. But the doorman’s eyes shot wide at the amount of coin Hirandar passed him, before he bowed low and beckoned them to enter.

Taem was captivated by the tranquillity of this balconied terrace. There were miniature trees, planted in soil beds cut into the stone paved floor, and small mountain-stone tables sculpted with sweeping curves. There were seed pots inset into these tables – to attract birds to land in the roof-top garden. Luxurious Dolami sofa-chairs were shaded from the summer sun by parasols, and large potted plants with broad leaves. The only downside were the looks the companions were getting, from snooty nobles at the other tables.

Taem had to shield his eyes from the sun to look over the terrace’s stonewall, and take in the elevated view of the whole city. It was an
extraordinary
sight. The cityscape was dominated by the imposing six-sided keep of The Rock, with its flags fluttering in the breeze. Behind that pillar of strength, Taem could see the River Bodium flowing westward, out of the city and yonder, through the country and on to the western horizon.

‘That is some view,’ Baek whispered.

‘This is the Birdsong Terrace,’ Hirandar said, ‘a place for the high society of Dolam to come and while away their lazy afternoons. Despite some of the pompous clientele,’ Hirandar said loudly, as she looked around at the lords and ladies at the other tables, ‘it is my favourite place in Dolam. One can come and relax here, with a view over the entire city.’

Gazing out over Dolam, Taem still found it strange to see so many people in one place. Thousands were crammed inside a few square miles, when the world was so vast.

A young waiter bade the companions to take some seats, and they lowered themselves into the feather-padded chairs, set around a marble table that was etched with sparkling mineral veins.

Hirandar whistled a tune and, to the delight of the other warriors, a blue finch came down from one of the trees to rest on her outstretched hand.

‘A pot of Dolami tea,’ Hirandar said to the waiter, ‘if you please.’

‘How did you do that?’ The waiter pointed at the bird sitting on Hirandar’s hand.

‘I find,’ Hirandar winked at the waiter, ‘if you’re nice to people and creatures, then they’re usually pleasant back to you.’

The waiter laughed, as he went to go and get the tea. He brought over a ceramic teapot, and left four small handle-less cups on the table.

Hirandar poured some tea in each of their cups.

‘No milk?’ Taem asked.

‘Not in this tea,’ Hirandar said. ‘Try it.’

Taem sipped the tea and its invigorating aroma swirled into his nose, as a waft of fresh air drifts in off the spring meadows.

‘It’s not the match of our Aritian tea,’ Hirandar murmured, ‘but it certainly is different.’ The Wizard took a sip. ‘Aaaah, that’s nice. You know, nations have been built on this fine drink, and wars have been resolved over a cup of tea.’ Hirandar grinned.

‘Yhee would say that,’ Forgrun grimaced as he swallowed the herbal tea. ‘But beer be better.’

‘I quite like it anyway,’ Baek raised his cup to the Rhungar.

‘Yhee would too,’ Forgrun grunted, ‘thy people prob’ly do make thine tea from berries an’ bit o’ grass.’

‘Better than making it from rocks and dirt!’ Baek quipped, causing everyone to laugh, even Forgrun.

They spent an hour relaxing and laughing on the Birdsong Terrace. They each told stories about their homes and their families, and Hirandar pointed out different parts of the city worth visiting.

‘Sitting in this luxury,’ Taem said quietly, ‘it is hard to imagine we’ll soon be travelling the wilderness once more.’

‘Savour it while you can, my boy,’ Hirandar placed a hand on Taem’s shoulder, as she caught the eye of the waiter, and asked him for the bill.

‘That’ll be four gold pieces,’ the waiter said.

‘Yhee be pulling me leg!’ Forgrun roared. ‘That be outrageous!’

‘I’m sorry,’ the man said, ‘I only work here–’

‘Please ignore him,’ Hirandar gestured to the Rhungar. ‘We are more than happy to pay to drink tea in as fine a place as this,’ Hirandar dipped her head to the waiter.

The waiter smiled at the old woman, and Taem was reminded how the pull of Hirandar’s charisma seemed to influence everyone she met.

‘This one’s on me,’ Taem said confidently, and reached for his coin pouch. ‘I’m not as cheap as our Rhungar.’ Taem smirked at Forgrun.

Forgrun scowled.

But as Taem rifled through his pouch, a nervous frown spread across his face. Three times he checked his coins – there was only three gold, one silver and three coppers. How could that be? He was a single coin short. He was sure he had enough money! Did he not? This was going to be humiliating.

‘Can… anyone lend me… a coin?’ Taem said sheepishly.

Forgrun had been watching with glee, as the anxiety spread over Taem’s face. The Rhungar had a gold coin ready in his hand, which he flipped in Taem’s direction. Taem snatched the coin out of the air, as Forgrun and Baek exchanged amused glances.

Taem smiled bashfully, as he handed the coins over to the waiter, who laughed as he collected up their cups.

‘You must all remind me,’ Hirandar said seriously, ‘to bring money with me,
whenever
Taem offers to take us all out for drinks.’

‘Hah Hah Hah!’ Forgrun bellowed. ‘Yhee be right Hirandar! Hah Hah Hah!’

Taem slunk very small as the others laughed. He did not think he would ever live that one down.

Logan waited in the Sceptre Room for a half hour, alone. He would allow his four companions to get well away from the Jester before he set out for The Rock.

As Logan started toward the castle, he prepared himself for the barrage of questions he would face. It had been a long time since he had mixed in courtly circles, and he hoped he was not too out of practice. Once, long ago, in the court of King Aswan in Arilon, Logan remembered a just and open court where people were free to speak as they wished. But Logan knew that dream had faded long ago.

Logan was wary of the city folk and adventurers that he passed. The Sodan assessed every person, saw their strengths and weaknesses, saw how he could beat them if they attacked him. Logan knew to never let his guard down.

After a few minutes, Logan could see the regal walls of the castle in the distance, rising up over the rooftops. Logan found it hard to believe in destiny, as he thought that each person had to make their own way in life. But yet, how else had he come to be where he was today? What else could have led a blacksmith’s son to stray from his village, into the forbidden forest? Logan remembered that day so well. No one ever went into Borleon Forest because it was haunted. But it was just before his fifteenth birthday, when Logan had been driven by a great curiosity to enter the forest. He went deep into the trees, until he found that house hidden amongst the boughs. It was spring, and the trees in that part of the forest were decked with cherry blossom.

‘Do not be afraid, boy.’ Said a small man who moved with such grace that Logan had thought he was a forest spirit. ‘You have come here to learn the way of this,’ the man drew his sword with such speed that Logan had never seen. ‘Do you want to learn The Way of the Sword?’

Logan had nodded.

‘Good,’ the little man had smiled. ‘Then you will call me Master, and we will begin.’

Logan smiled at the memory. He strode down a street lined with shops until he came to a magnificent bridge that crossed the Treymar. Towering on the other side of the waterway, Logan was confronted by the majestic walls of The Rock. Logan saw how the stone of the far half of the bridge flowed into the castle. This drawbridge could be raised in times of emergency, to seal entry to the curtain wall.

Logan’s heart grew heavier for every step he took towards the castle. And Logan knew it was not just his own feelings that made him uneasy, it was his Sodan senses telling him that something was not right.

Unlike the heaving street where Logan stood, there were no other walkers on the bridge. It was a minor entry point to the castle, a much quieter way in than the main gate, and that was why Logan had chosen it. The great castle was overbearing up close. Some might tremble under the imposing shadow of that fortress, but there were few things in Hathlore that could shake Logan Fornor.

Two Defenders, in their blue and yellow tunics, and polished breastplates and helms, stood posted at the street-side end of the bridge. As Logan strode up to them, the Defenders crossed their halberds to bar his passing. Logan stared at them impassively. These Defenders were little older than Taem, and would have been at school the last time the Grim Wanderer was in Dolam.

‘You may not enter here, my lord,’ said one of the Defenders.

Logan gave the Defenders Balthus’s letter. As they read the letter, the two soldiers gaped at Logan in astonishment. They jumped to attention and saluted, and Logan walked on past them across the bridge. But one of the Defenders came sprinting after Logan.

The Sodan did not like to hear someone running at him, especially when his back was turned. Logan’s hand went to his sword. Logan’s eyes remained forward. He listened and he felt. He heard the clatter of a halberd. The Sodan sensed the threat approach. This Defender was fortunate. Logan heard the Defender’s lumbering footsteps giving him a wide berth, as he went hurtling past him over the bridge, to alert the castle to the imminent arrival of an honoured guest.