The Land: Founding (Chaos Seeds Book 1) (20 page)

“He sent us to give you the money he
owes you,” Sion interrupted loudly.

“He did,” Edwin asked sounding
confused.

“He did,” Richter echoed, sounding
confused himself.

Sion widened his eyes, set his mouth
and indicated Edwin with a not so subtle head movement.

Richter looked back at Edwin, whose
mouth was still open as if undecided whether to finish his outcry. Taking what
seemed like his three hundred and fifty thousandth sigh since coming to The
Land, Richter squared his shoulders, and more definitively said, “He did.”

A large grin landed upon the face of
the government official, “Well now! That changes everything, my friends! So you
have my gold piece with you then?”

Never trusting a smile, Richter
narrowed his eyes. Plastering a large smile of his own on, he said, “Of course!
It would be great if we could finish here quickly because we need to drop off
our bounties.”

“Bounties,” Edwin asked his smile
slipping a bit.

“Yes,” Richter said, his own smiling
widening. “They are really beginning to stink! Taking only dead on delivery
contracts can surely make things easier, but it’s hard on the nose when they
start to pile up! You have to bring the whole body back now too! So much easier
when they only needed the head. Isn’t that right, Sion?” The sprite stood at
back of the room caressing the hilt of his sword. Upon hearing his name he just
gave an evil smile that did not reach his eyes. Shaking his head as if to mourn
the loss of a simpler time, Richter reached for his purse to pull out the money
and said innocently, “You did say three gold pieces?”

During his soliloquy, Edwin’s eyes
had widened until it seemed the man’s bushy eyebrows would fly off the top of
his head, “Well, well, that is to say, I think I confused
Caulder
with another fellow…
Kwalder
. Yes I remember now,
Caulder
only owed me 7 silver and 5 copper.”

“Hmm, well that would be an easy
mistake to make,” Richter said with a smile. Counting out the required funds he
placed them in Edwin’s sweaty palm. “Now we are all friends! We have done you a
favor by helping you collect on a debt. What are friends for if not favors
though, right? Perhaps you could help us as well. We apparently need papers so
that my Companion can travel through the kingdom.”

Nodding quickly Edwin moved to get
out various papers and stamps. As he started to get their paperwork in order,
Richter said “While we are here, maybe you can tell me why we need to have
papers at all. It also might be nice to have a reference for someone in
government over in Law. We like making friends. I’m a people person, right
Sion?” A grim chuckle was his only answer.

With another look at the seemingly
blood thirsty sprite with his ever so sharp sword, Edwin started to nod even
faster as continued his task.

A short while later, the two friends
were walking down the street and laughing. They found directions to the
Whistling Hen easily enough. For the some reason the man who gave him
directions winked like
Caulder
had. Still not getting
the joke, he and Sion just thanked him and strolled to the inn. A red hen was
on the sign with its beaked pursed and musical notes coming out.

As they walked inside they were
greeted with a wave of sound. Time had been moving on, and the interior of the
inn was swollen with customers for dinner. A musician played some kind of
stringed instrument, and several patrons clapped along. A large black pot hung
over a fire and a hearty aroma of vegetables and simmering meat permeated the
air. There was definitely a stale beer smell in the air as well, but it was a
lot better than some bars Richter had been in. It seemed like everyone was
having a good time.

More interesting, there was a mix of
races in the inn. Though it was mostly humans by far, there was a table of
dwarves near the center of the room. He couldn’t be sure of course having never
seen one before, but the short frame, large muscles and beards seemed like a
clear giveaway. At another table there was a taller woman with slightly pointed
ears laughing at the joke of one of her human table companions. This was the
world he had dreamed of. A world of fantasy melded with a world of hope and
joy. And that feeling of contentment lasted right up to the moment that Sion
drew an arrow with a snarl and pointed it across the room.

The mood changed as first one, then
another, and then all of the people in the room stood and drew whatever weapons
they had available. A few only managed to fall on their face, clearly deep in
their cups. Richter had his hand on his sword confused as he did not see any
danger. He traced the line of the Sion’s arrow and final saw the target of his
friend’s anger. A brown tunic covered a goblin the size of a scout. It (‘He’
Richter mentally corrected remembering Hisako’s advice) was squealing in terror
as it pressed its back against the bar, seeking escape.

“Lower that bow!” a voice shouted. A
large woman came from behind the bar holding a rolling pin. “If that arrow
leaves your bow, we will rip you apart!” She put herself in the path of Sion’s
shot.

“Sion, put up your bow,” Richter
said. “We are guests here! Do not let your hate guide you! Is this what the
Hearth Mother would want?”

Sion glanced at him sharply, then
relieved tension on his bow string. He shoved his arrow back into his quiver in
a smooth motion.

“Now get out,” the woman spat.

Richter raised his hands in
appeasement. “I am so sorry that we have disrupted the love and peace of this
place. What you have here is amazing. My Companion and I have had a hard time.
We have fought through many dangers, and barely survived against a band of
goblins that were trying to corrupt his home.”

“That is no excuse!”

“No it is not miss. I won’t give you
an excuse. My dad used to say, excuses are monuments of nothing that build
bridges to nowhere. I’m just a man who wants to offer an apology.” Richter
reached under his armor for a hidden pouch. Opening it, he fished inside and
then withdrew an opal. Moving slowly, he made his way through the sea of
hostile faces, and past the woman who protected the small creature. He knelt,
as the goblin shivered in front of him. Waiting until it looked him in the eye,
he simply said, “I’m sorry,” and handed the jewel to the goblin. Its shivers
came under control, and it looked from the gem to him, first in fear, then in
confusion and wonder.

Standing, Richter looked at the woman
again and met her eyes. He nodded once, and then shouldered his pack and turned
to leave. Sion fell in step behind him.

“Wait,” the woman called. “Why are
you here?”

Richter turned back, “I met a man
named
Caulder
who said that this was a place we could
come and be welcome. I know how ironic that sounds now.”

The woman held his gaze, “Do you
promise to not commit any violence while you are under this roof?”

Richter opened his mouth to speak,
but she said sharply, “I do not need to hear it from you!”

Sion stepped forward and said, “I
reacted, I did not think. I brought dishonor to my Hearth, not honor. My name
is Sion of the Wood Sprites of the Forest of Nadria. I swear I will commit no
violence if none is committed against me.
Kva
ti
relada
voe
.”

Preparing to translate, Richter was
surprised when the woman responded, “
Ti
voe
reladii
.”

Sion had said, ‘my life for my word’
and she had accepted his pledge, ‘your word for your life.’

The woman looked around and addressed
all the patrons. They were still on their feet unsure about the turn of events.
“Well ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed your mid dinner
entertainment!” A series of chuckles came from all around. “Let’s start the
music back! Next round is on the house!”

“And the round after that is on me,”
Richter said. More cheers followed his pronouncement.

A grudging smile formed on the
woman’s face. “Well you sure make an entrance. Call me Rosy, everybody does.”
She extended her hand, but when Richter went to shake it, she moved forward a
half step and clasped his wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong. With a firm
shake she released. “Now what can I do for you?”

“We need a place to stay, and I need
to sell the goods that we have.”

“So you’re merchants? Never really
seen merchants wearing woodland armor before.”

“Not exactly,” Richter said with a
small laugh. “What are really need are supplies for my village, and people
brave enough to be pioneers.”

“What type of people are you looking
for?”

“I need the kind of people that can
make a community. Carpenters, farmers, masons, guards, blacksmiths, etc. I have
a village rich with resources, but need people to help me realize its
potential.”

“Hmmm, well you can sell your items here,
though if any are magical you’ll get a much better price in the capital. As far
as the people that you are looking for, I’m sure you’ve seen that nonhumans are
treated as inferiors in Yves.”

“Yeah, we just spent time in the
ministry getting papers for Sion. That’s actually how we met
Caulder
. He guided us to the appropriate person.”

“Well I don’t know if they explained
it, but these rules are new. In the past, the Kingdom had always welcomed the
different races. Each worked together for the betterment of all. When he died
though, his son listened to conservative advisors. He started to enact laws
that slowly funneled power and wealth away from Yves’s nonhuman citizens. The
rumor is that it found its way into the pockets of the king and his friends. Ten
years later, all nonhumans are either bound to one place or bonded to a human.
That’s the significance of those papers you received at the ministry today.
Now, you are basically the sprite’s guardian. Anything he does you are
responsible for. He is ‘bonded’ to you.”

“What is the bound option?”

“Basically like a work permit.
Nonhumans get hired under a human to work, but end up getting paid coppers on
the gold. They also cannot move far from their job or they get thrown in jail.
Hence, ‘bound.’ You wouldn’t believe it, but thirty years ago all races roamed
the kingdom openly, sharing their ideas and culture.”

Richter looked around the room, “It
seems like you guys are doing pretty good.”

“But this is one of the only places
in town where the different races mix openly. With the new laws, old hates have
risen up. More and more humans are coming to despise anyone different from
themselves.” Thinking of the younger gate guard, Richter knew he had already
experienced this change in opinion.

“Well, you have told me what started
your travels, but what can I do for you now,” she asked.

“We could use a place to stay for the
night, and maybe an introduction or two if you can manage it.”

“Done,” she said with another smile.
“Each room costs three coppers, but it has two beds and comes with dinner.
Looks like Rat has made a good stew tonight. I trust you won’t try and kill our
cook again?”

“The goblin is your cook,” Sion asked
in disbelief.

“Yes, and he’s a good one. He makes
the best stew in town. I think it’s on account of the goblin’s sense of smell.
I’m sure we won’t have any more trouble with you?”

“I have agreed to heed the peace and
I will. If you say the food is good, then I will trust you. But is his name
truly Rat?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile.

“How did he get that name,” the
sprite asked.

“You don’t want to know,” she said
with the same smile. “Do you have any animals that need caring for?” At
Richter’s nod she continued, “Well it’s another copper per animal. So are you
interested?”

“I am.” Richter liked her straight
forward manner, despite their rocky start.

“Well then,” she said slapping her
thighs. “Let me get you the key to your room. The stable boy will see to your
mounts. The soup is almost done. Why don’t you put your things down, and then
go buy some clothes. I don’t know if anyone has told you, but you look
kinda
odd walking around in green armor.”

Taking the hint, he and Sion followed
directions. After dropping their things in their rooms, they headed outside.
Rosy gave them directions to a nearby clothes shop that catered to multiple
races. They were soon both outfitted with serviceable traveling clothes.
Richter wore black pants and a beige shirt, both of which fit over his armor.
Sion decided to maintain his color scheme, and wore a green tunic that fell
over darker green pants. Now properly attired, they made their way back to the
inn.

“Hello my friends,” a shout greeted
them when they reentered the common room.
Caulder
sat
near the stage where the musicians were performing. He waved them over to the
table. When they sat, he raised his mug and drained it in one go. Not missing a
beat, he half stood and raised his other hand over his head with three fingers
extended, “Rosy my love! Three ales for three hard working men!” Rosy favored him
with a faint smile, and a roll of her eyes.