The Archon's Apprentice (19 page)

After waiting many hours in line, Mikol grew concerned. The gates had remained closed. The caravan in front of them was turned away. Mikol and Bayle dismounted and walked their horses to the guard standing in front of the rest.

“State your business and intent.”

“We are passing through.”

“Do you have authorization?”

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean. As I said ...”

“If you are not authorized, you are not on my list. If you are not on my list, you do not get in.”

“How do we get authorized?”

“The council grants authorization.”

“Ok, and how do we talk to the council?”

“You need to be authorized.”

“Wait. So, we have to be authorized to talk to the council about getting authorization to talk to the council?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” The guard snickered.

Mikol felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Bayle flipping a coin.

“Uh, is there some ... other ... way to get authorization?”

The guard had been looking at the mass of people he still had to speak with. He looked at Mikol closely and narrowed his eyes. Mikol hoped his meaning was clear as Bayle continued to flip a coin behind him.
 

“There are other ways of gaining authorization.” The guard took a step closer to them while looking around quickly. “I should be able to get you authorization for five Tarens.”
 

“That sounds reasonable. I guess. How much is a Taren?”

The guard narrowed his eyes again and looked them over.

“If you don’t know how much a Taren is then you don’t have enough.”

Bayle flipped the coin at the guard, who snatched it out of the air.

“How much is that?” asked Bayle.

The guard sneered at him. He looked at the coin closely, even biting in to it. Mikol could not read his expression now.

“That’s a nice trick. But by the looks of you, I don’t think you have anymore.”

“You didn’t answer the question. How much is that coin?”

“One Taren.”

Bayle fished out four more coins from a smaller pouch and handed them over to the guard. The man looked around again as he pocketed the coins.
 

“Ok. And yours?” The guard pointed at Mikol.

“You said five Tarens.”

“Yes, five Tarens each. This is Silverhall we’re talking about here.”

Mikol grunted but reached out to grab the coins Bayle held out. He gave them to the guard who pocketed them just as quickly.

“Great, can we enter now?”

“No, you’re still not authorized yet.”

“What did we just give you ten Tarens for then?”

“That was so I could get you authorization. It still takes time to get authorization and get on the list. And no one gets in who is not on the list.”

“Yes, you said that. How long does it take to get on the list?”

“First, tell me your names so I can make sure you get on the list.”

“Erash and Tobo.” Mikol ignored Bayle as he cleared his throat behind him. The guard did not seem to notice Bayle or register any recognition at the names as he wrote them down.

“Check back with me tomorrow to see if your names have been added to the list.”

“Tomorrow!? What? What are we supposed to do until then?”

The guard gestured to nothing and everything as he indicated the mass of people around the city.

“Now, leave before you become to much of a disturbance and I lose your names.”

They turned around to see the line of people on the road waiting for entrance stretched out to the horizon. They moved off of the road and walked around in the enormous squatter camp. They looked for somewhere they could stay near the front gate. No one looked at them as they passed. Some of the squatters looked well traveled, others looked like they were refugees. Scattered about the area were those who were selling food and other items. They stopped by one merchant with questionable meat to inquire about cost. Mikol knew he was just preying on everyone when he quoted two Tarens. He still did not know how much a Taren really was, but given how the guard had reacted to him having one, this meat was overpriced.
 

Soon enough they started to get people cursing at them to get their horses away. They saw stables in the distance, but even closer was a camp that had set up its own corral. The camp had a large tent that could have passed for a house in many places. There were two guards posted by the front.

“Excuse me, may we tie up our horses here?”

The guard looked them over before saying something to the second guard and disappearing into the tent. The second guard did not move but kept his eye on Mikol. It took longer than expected for the first guard to return.

“My master will allow you to keep your horses here for two Tarens a night.”

“Each or total?”

“Total. One per horse.”

Mikol still knew this was somehow too much but did not see any other option. He handed over the two coins to the guard. They led their horses to the hitching post. Mikol was impressed by the beauty of the other horses that were tied up. He had not seen any with such coloring or elaborate styling of the mane.
 

“Now what?” said Bayle.

“I guess we wait. The pendant is pointing in to the city. So, what we’re looking for is either in the city ... or behind it.”

“Can’t we go around?”

“No, the city was built out from the mountain. The northern entrance is on the mountain itself and is not accessible from either side. The mountain extends outwards and provides natural cliff walls for defense.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m going to be the Archon. I have to know what Voletain knows and teaches me. Would have been good for you to listen to some of it too.”

Bayle rolled his eyes. “Well, if you know everything then I don’t need to.”

“I didn’t say I know everything, but I have read several of the books about Silverhall and many of the reports from the Wardens and their incursions into the city over the years.”

“So there is another way,” said Bayle.

“No, there was never a mention of how they go in. At least nothing that is written down. The only ways in are through the main gate or over the mountain path to the northern gate. It is a fortress city built from a mountain. It would defeat the purpose if they had a lot of entrances.”

***

There was enough room near the horses to set up their camp. Their gear was still damp. Mikol could not see anywhere they could adequately dry it out. After they had camp and a small fire going, they sat around too tired to even talk. They had been going as fast as they could for so long, Mikol could not remember the last time he had been able to look at the world around him. This was too hard for Mikol now, and he waited for sleep to take him. Even after he had fallen asleep he was regularly awoken by noises coming from the people around him.
 

Mikol bolted upright a few times during the night, sure that something was out to get him. He relaxed only a little when his surroundings came back to him. The last time he woke up he sat and stared out at the mass of thousands of tents and makeshift coverings. He did not have much time to ponder before another spring rain fell. He lay back down and covered himself as best he could. When the sun started to rise he awoke. It did not take long for the masses to wake up and begin their daily routines. Mikol and Bayle returned their gear to the horses before going to the front gate. The lines had formed again and they were forced to wait to speak with the guard. When it was their time to speak with the guards, they were again denied entry but assured their request was being seen to.
 

They had no energy to argue and returned to their horses. They had not thought to claim the area near their horses and found that people had set up camp where they had spent the night. When they asked the guards watching their horses they were given no answers and asked if they still wanted to keep their horses tethered there. Mikol gave the man two Tarens in response and turned to leave.

“Hold!”

Mikol froze in his steps and saw Bayle do the same. Had the money reverted back? Or worse, had someone found them? Mikol turned to face the guard, holding back any reaction as the guard walked up to him.

“The Master would like your company.”

Mikol let out his breath in response. The guard raised an eyebrow but opened the tent to them. The extravagance inside the tent took him by surprise. The outside of the tent had a rugged, well-built quality to it, but the inside reminded Mikol of the ostentatious homes of some of the nobles back in Ternia.
 

The man in the middle of the tent stood tall, looking down as Mikol and Bayle entered, clearly the master of his domain. The man’s clothing rivaled any of Turos’s flamboyant flair and made the Cobinstil fashion look like potato sacks. The man bowed with an equally flamboyant gesture.

“Welcome to my home. Please, enter and be well.”

Mikol bowed to the man, as did Bayle, but only enough to be considered polite.

“Thank you. Is there a reason you have summoned us?”

“Summoned? No. No, I simply wished for some company. Since you have the means to pay for the accommodations for your horses, I thought I would extend the courtesy of a meal and conversation.”

“That would be most welcome. We have been on the road long enough I don’t remember the last time I had good meal.”

“Excellent. Then it will be my pleasure to provide one. My name is Wondat.”

“My name is Erash.” Mikol pointed to Bayle. “And this is Tobo.”

If Wondat recognized the names he gave no sign. Instead he clapped his hands. Moments later three servants came out from the back of the tent. The servant brought forth fruits, vegetables, and meats and set them on a large wooden table with golden inlays that did not look misplaced amidst the fineries in the tent. Wondat motioned for them to have a seat. Mikol watched the servants cook his meal in front of him. He was sure he had forgotten some form of conduct or manners as he barely managed to wait for the servants to set the food in front of him before he ate. Wondat seemed to understand their hunger and did not speak while they ate. Mikol noticed Wondat only tasted the various courses that were set in front of him, sending them away as Mikol and Bayle finished theirs.

After their meal Wondat directed them to another wing of the tent. This wing held couches and cushions and all forms of luxury that Mikol had forgotten existed. Mikol was hesitant to sit on anything for fear of ruining it, but Wondat waved away any concerns.

“So, what brings you to Silverhall?”

“We’re cartographers. We were hired to produce a thorough map of the Dagger Peaks. Our employer heard of the magnificent views in the Dagger Peaks and wants to plan a visit soon.”

Mikol looked at Bayle in surprise. He was glad Bayle had thought quickly, as he had not been ready for questions.

“Hmm. I have been through the Dagger Peaks on several occasions,” said Wondat. “I have not seen anything that I would call magnificent. Mostly just rocks and a lot of cold trails the farther up you go.”

“That probably depends on what else you’ve seen. Our employer lives on the empty plains. Nothing for miles and miles. We saw the assignment as a way to have a journey.”

“Ah yes, the journey. I experienced that myself before I met my wife. She is not much for travel these days and stayed home in Whitecliff. Which is why I am here.”

Wondat laughed at his own joke. Bayle gave a half-hearted sound more akin to a cough then a laugh.

“Is this how it always is around these parts?” asked Mikol.

“No, only when a city has been named capital.”

“Uh, I thought Silverhall was the capital.”

“Yes, it frequently is, but before King Kagarin declared himself lord of the realm, Sibilova was fractured for many, many years. No one sat in any throne in any city,” said Wondat.

“There is more than one throne?” asked Bayle.

Wondat eyed them both a moment before answering.

“Yes. There is a throne in every major city. Whitecliff, Enhurst, Grey Mount.... They were all once capitals of their own domains under some king or warlord. When Sibilova united, the current king or warlord, even an emperor once, would declare his own home to be the capital and center of the realm. Some of the thrones have been destroyed. At the peak there were maybe twelve thrones scattered about the land.”

“So people are trying to see the new king?”

“No, no, no. King Kagarin is not here. He has set his eyes on the golden west. Trying to free the world of the tyranny of Ternia or some nonsense. Many have tried before. I do not see why he thinks he is different. No, I am here because he has also declared no taxes for merchants who sell in the capital. If I recall correctly, he gave a speech about sharing the wealth with the world. Again, some nonsense. But whatever his reasons, it means more money in my pocket.”

“So everyone out there is a merchant? Surely not.”

“No, many of the people out there are looking for work in the king’s personal domain. It seems to be a very prestigious ideal.”

“So why are you selling outside the city instead of inside?” asked Bayle.

Wondat sat up straight, pointing a finger at Bayle.

“Who said I was selling outside the city?”

“What?” Bayle looked between Mikol and Wondat before laughing and sitting back in his chair. “Sorry. No. No one has said anything to us about you or anyone else. I just assumed you were selling out here because you were not in the city.”

Wondat eyed them both for a long moment. The tension in the room grew as Wondat stayed silent. Suddenly, Wondat let out a loud laugh and settled back in to his chair.

“You are most definitely not from around here.”

Both Mikol and Bayle shook their heads.
 

“It is illegal to sell anything outside the city. At least anything worth a profit. You can sell food.”

“Worth a profit? There is a meat merchant down the way selling spoiled beef for two Tarens.”

“I would never do such a thing. I take pride in what I sell. That man is a disgrace to the mercantile profession. I would not be surprised if he was causing this nasty disease my guards have been talking about.” Wondat blanched at his comment.