The Call (21 page)

Serdra smiled a bit and walked back towards the trail.

“I will of course have to find out for myself,” Katja sighed to herself.

--------------------

After darkness had descended in earnest they found a depression to sleep in and huddled together beneath a tiny tent given to them by the Shades.

“Have you heard anything about the Savaren family?” Serdra asked as they lay and waited for sleep.

“Do you mean before meeting you?” Katja asked. “Well, I have heard the name. Tovar is after all rich and well-known and influential. One always heard about him now and then when news of politics and power plays drifted in from the east.” Katja pondered. “It feels rather strange to be on my way to battle him.”

“Because he is a respected countryman of yours?”

Katja examined her feelings in more detail.

“Yes. I suppose that is the root of it. I mean, I won't hesitate to do what must be done!” she hastily added. “It's just... well, strange.”

“Hmm. Love of country,” Serdra said. “I don't know whether I properly remember what the feeling is like, but I strongly suspect Tovar Savaren and his comrades do not share it with you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have...” Serdra changed her position. “I have rarely had the chance to chat with Brotherhood members, but their words and deeds have always indicated they still consider themselves Vendyha-men, the Brotherhood of the Pit, Zakari´s heirs and rules by right of the sorcery he taught their ancestors.”

“Are they ALL so pompous?” Katja asked and couldn't help but be a little sceptical. Given how spread out the Brotherhood apparently was they had to number at least some thousands.

“Most of them, at least. Maybe there occasionally comes along an individual who just wants to live in peace and quiet rather than struggle to revive the past, but those are exceptions. They are taught arrogance from early childhood. It's a policy for them. It wouldn't surprise me to find out Zakari had explicitly ordered as much in his tomes. And their sorcery affects more than just the divide.”

“Fun bunch,” Katja said. She momentarily thought of Sealfoot Peter, a boy her own age who had been quite arrogant about the fact that his father owned more than half the horses in Brown Slope.

“It's safest not to give them the benefit of the doubt,” Serdra said, and something in her voice chilled Katja.

“Didn't you say the other day that not everyone knows what their family gets up to?”

“Yes, and slaughtering an entire extended family does draw a lot of attention. But if you have cause to believe someone keeps to the Brotherhood customs you are to assume the person is an enemy.”

“And what? Stab them in the back?”

“If the opportunity presents itself. And if doing so wouldn't get you into trouble.”

“Don't innocent people get caught in such conflicts?”

“It happens, yes. But this is war Katja. Never forget that. This is a war and we
mustn't
lose it.”

Katja left it at that. She didn't care for what her mentor was implying. She just wanted to sleep and be able to focus on Tovar Savaren in the morning.

“Don't worry,” Serdra said to her in the dark. “You are young. You will come to grips with this.”

--------------------

In the morning they ate most of their remaining food and headed back out while the night animals were still falling silent around them.

Katja somehow didn't feel like chatting much as they walked, and Serdra didn't insist upon it. They just went over the stealth language and the signs and Katja was quite pleased with how well she remembered both.

Shortly before noon the track swerved to the east and Serdra explained that it would soon take them to a tiny hamlet. They had no business there and so left the trail and walked across rather bare rocks which made the walk easier than in the thicket.

They ate the last of their bread while sitting in a comfortable spot on the rocks.

--------------------

Tovar Savaren looked over his brethren as they went over the equipment they'd brought from Mooncape. Everything had been done in a hurry. He normally demanded great preparation and caution in all major sorcery rituals, and rushing in like this didn't sit right with him. However he also demanded efficiency and intelligence from his coven members and they turned out to have everything.

He heard footsteps and looked down the forested slope which was the only passable way to this place. Vajan and three of his men appeared out of the foliage about thirty metres away. Vajan nodded to him.

Tovar turned to his underlings.

“Begin,” he said and they wasted no time. He approached Vajan as they arranged candles and rune mats.

Might we really get to kill two Redcloaks in one sitting?
he thought to himself. He knew it was risky to get too excited over such a dangerous matter but the thought was oh-so-sweet.

He looked towards the morning sun as it carefully peeked up above the mounts beyond the Kalman Channel. At any rate this was certain to be an interesting day.

They met on the edge of the slope.

“So this location is suitable?” Tovar asked and pointed down into the forest.

“Yes. It's not perfect, but that's rarely an option. This will work, with a bit of luck. The boys are arranging everything.”

Tovar nodded.

“I just received a message,” he said. “No suspicious people have passed south. No armed women. Just farmers, family people and official messengers.”

“So it's as we suspected,” Vajan said.

“Possibly.
If
the Redcloaks have found a way out of a closed city
and
feel they are finished there.”

“Amble out of one death they don't know of and into another one. A bit funny, in my opinion.” Vajan smirked.

“We can celebrate when we toast to victory.”

“I flat out insist we do just that if all goes well,” Vajan said. “The feeling ought to be sweet.”

“No doubt,” Tovar said and couldn't help but smile a bit at the foreigner.

--------------------

The Wave Fell farm was a bit isolated, which Katja supposed was fitting for the local headquarters of the Shades. She saw folk toil in the fields in the distance as they walked along a grassy hill.

That's where I would be if the demon hadn't shown up
, Katja suddenly thought.
In the fields back home, or in the quarry.

She felt a sudden attack of homesickness. The weather was great. The sun reached through the clouds just enough to caress one without frying, and the sweet breeze brought the fresh ocean air. Memories of days like this back home scrambled over one another: Toil and hardship and sometimes accidents, but also jokes and songs to lighten the mood, and games during breaks. Lunch in the grass with relatives and neighbours.

She smothered the lump in her throat before it could settle.

I have left home, as I always wanted to do. I really have to stop doing this.

The sword dangled in her belt as always and now swung about a bit and smacked into her shin. Katja found it a good reminder.

The farm itself, seven houses and two cabins, come into view and they started walking downwards, towards the trail which led to it,

“It's a nice place,” Katja said.

“Yes. And not much changed, it seems,” Serdra said. “This has always been a strong homestead. Be careful not to do anything to change that.”

“Yes yes yes. Secrecy. I know.”

Some worker with a wheelbarrow spotted them from the farm. He was out of shouting distance so Katja just waved at him. The man waved back and then vanished. Presumably he was announcing guests.

“Did you know the people here to any degree?”

“Mostly the older ones. They are presumably all dead.”

Yes, of course.

Katja watched her mentor's ageless face as they walked up to the houses. An ageless face with old eyes; how strange it was.

“Does it bother you?” she asked after a brief silence. “Watching people grow old and die?”

“One gets used to it,” Serdra said without looking at her.

An old man awaited them outside the largest house and leaned on a cane. He was grey haired and heavy of brow with sharp eyes, severe features and a large, horrible scar on his left cheek.

Katja found something familiar about him.

“Maron,” Serdra said in something of a whisper and stopped. There was something in her voice Katja hadn't heard before. She looked at her mentor but saw nothing unusual in her face.

“Serdra,” the old man said in a deep, gravelly voice that fit the face perfectly. “I see immortality has been kind.”

“And I see nature has been less so,” Serdra said and walked up to him. They hugged.

It was a bizarre sight. Katja couldn't help but notice that Serdra's presence didn't have the same effect on him as other people. Then she remembered the name.

The scar on the cheek! This is the man from the vision on Flat Top!

“I've seen you before,” Katja said and pointed at him. “When your face was still symmetrical.”

“Be careful Serdra,” the old man said in the same serious tone. “There is a little viper behind you.”

Serdra broke off the hug and turned to her pupil.

“So this is the latest addition,” Maron said and looked at Katja. “Who doesn't know to go unnoticed.”

“I know it
now
,” Katja said snippily and smiled a bit. This reminded her of home just as much as the view from the slope.

“We'll see about that,” the man said and turned to Serdra. “So you've come to mentor the youth.”

“Just as you have, I assume,” she said. “Mentoring and obeying the Call. There is something big brewing around here.”

“I've been suspecting as much,” Maron said. “Just as I suspected one of you would pay a visit. I just didn't know it would be you.”

He held Serdra's gaze for a few moments.

“Is the story from the west true?” he then asked. “It only came to me recently and may have gone through some changes on the way.”

“A demon attacked my home village and... and killed people,” Katja answered. “Serdra came and introduced herself shortly after. Oh, and there was another demon on the way here but we dealt with it.”

“The Brotherhood was behind it,” Serdra said. “They know of us. Or her, at least.”

“If a smart man is leading them they will assume an experienced Graycloak is here as well,” Maron said. “And I believe that to be the case.”

“Do you mean Tovar Savaren?” Serdra asked.

“Yes. That damnable family didn't take long to rise from the ashes. He has made Mooncape into his private town, and a suspicious number of his relatives have gotten into various positions in the country during recent years.”

“Do you know what he, or they, intend?” Serdra asked.

“Has your sense of the future sharpened any since last I saw you?”

Serdra shrugged.

“Slightly, perhaps. I sense only sorcery and great changes.”

“Changes, you say?”

“Changes that extend into the future. Like the beginning of a rockslide.”

“And you're here to catch the first stone before it drops?”

“Hopefully.”

Maron nodded. “Or pick up the shards afterwards. Because you know very well that one rock does not cause a rockslide.”

He stepped to the side and motioned them through the door with formal courtesy Katja rarely saw.

“Come in. We will discuss what we know, and don't know. And what we need to do.”

Chapter
15.

They settled in the lounge and Maron had some boy fetch a bottle of wine from the basement.

Katja and Serdra quickly went over the events in Baldur's City and the things they'd discovered there. Which Katja felt was actually very little, but perhaps it complemented what the old man knew through spies.

The wine turned out be made from raisins, and Maron implied that it reminded both himself and Serdra of the old days. There was a hint of nostalgia in the old man's bearing and Katja wished he would go into the details, but instead he briefly covered the events of the last forty years.

The man had apparently risen to great prominence among the Shades after he and Serdra parted ways long ago. Aside from the deeds he'd performed, and didn't explain nearly well enough to satisfy Katja's curiosity, he also inherited his father's homestead in Amerstan and soon revealed his leadership talents. He had visited this old stronghold of the Shades along with a few of his men to train the youngsters and strengthen ties.

Katja recalled that their hosts in Baldur's City had mentioned guests from the north.

“But anyway, what do you know?” she asked.

“A great many things. And I usually seize every opportunity to channel knowledge every which way so it won't die with me, but we are probably pressed for time.”

“Considering the buzzing in my head I would say so, yes,” Katja said. “I would appreciate being able to silence it.

Maron smirked.

What does he find so funny? He does have experience with Redcloaks.

“Well, I don't have your sight, but I have my own means. As well as experience.”

“Are you sure Tovar Savaren is the local leader?”

“About as sure as I can be without having spies in his home. We
tried
to arrange that a few years ago but it... it didn't go well.”

“What do you know about him?”

“I know he is clever and ambitious. He has greatly enlarged his father's mercantile empire. The town of Mooncape has almost doubled in size the last ten years and he doesn't intend to stop there. He means to make his harbour larger and more convenient than the one in Baldur's City. And since he's also responsible for road projects he would just need to offer a lower harbour tax than the governor to make the city harbour obsolete.”

“That would certainly make him popular in certain circles,” Katja said.

“Oh yes. He has worked for years at befriending everyone who can vote for a new governor if something happens to the old one.”

“Which did almost happen,” Katja said.

“Yes. Half of all the merchants and major farmers have become his business partners and the other half generally like him. I've met him at gatherings. The man knows how to make a speech, there's no denying that. He can also befriend the powerful by speaking their own language, but there's arrogance just under that surface. If one pays a little attention to him.”

“But getting to the point,” Maron cleared his throat. “Look, this is just a guess based on vague hints, but I suspect he means to ally with the other Brotherhood covens around the Inner Sea.”

“That's not surprising,” Serdra said. “They are all taught from early childhood to mourn the good old days.”

“Indeed,” Maron said, “but it looks to me like he intends to actually make it happen.”

He sipped his wine.

“Savaren took pains to prevent it getting out, but he took a little trip to the Golden Plain almost a year ago. We know because we had agents on Mooncape back then. But anyway, he snuck away in one of his smaller ships, stopped in the Golden Plain for four days and then returned. When I found out and contacted our comrades there I found he didn't trade with anyone and doesn't seem to have met with any officials.
However
, something changed with the coven there. They've kept to themselves, just as they have done here.”

“As if they're waiting for something,” Serdra said,

“Exactly.”

Serdra thought for a bit.

“I passed through the Golden Plain on my way to the Coast,” she said. “I stopped briefly with a Shade family and they told me a few men they suspected of connections to the Brotherhood seemed to have vanished recently. All of them skilled in combat, mostly former soldiers.”

Maron looked at her thoughtfully, and Katja did as well. The woman had never said anything about her movements or actions before meeting Katja.

Maron sniffed.

“Total coincidence...” he said.

“...like a cat in a pantry,” Serdra finished. It was clearly a phrase that had passed between them in the old days.

The old man shook his head. The tree bark-like face seemed custom-made to be severe, but somehow he managed to become even more serious.

“So this isn't some fantasy of his.” He shook his head. “This must be stopped. Because I suspect this isn't the only help he's gotten.”

“Oh?”

“He has a lot of projects going on at Mooncape. He hired lots of foreign workers to plough new fields, dig irrigation canals, improve the roads to the north and change the coast to allow more ships in.”

“Foreign workers?”

“Yes. He apparently acquired them through his connections and ships and moved them here this spring. The men live in tents by the cape and work hard at making Mooncape competitive with Baldur's City.”

“You said 'men',” Serdra pointed out.

“Indeed I did. These are all men. Thorkell went to the cape under false pretences five weeks ago and looked around.”

“And what did he see?”

“Rough men, many of them sporting scars, damaged fingers, lameness and such.”

“Former soldiers?” Serdra said.

“Maybe. I have a contact in Farnar. He is a wealthy farmer who hires mercenaries to defend his lands in the summer and guard wagon trains. He claims to have had great difficulty hiring men this year, and his peers apparently say the same thing. It is as if several hundred warriors have simply vanished.”

“Vanished,” Katja said and looked at the two them. “Or gotten a good offer.”

“It is entirely possible,” Maron said, “that they went north to seek fortune in the conflicts of the Stonefoot lands. Or were hired in their homeland and it simply hasn't gotten out. Or simply scattered abroad. There is after all always some trouble in that land. But that it happens just as Tovar Savaren hires three hundred hard men, that I find unlikely.”

“Three hundred?” Katja said. “Wait, he won't do much with those numbers, will he? That's not enough to take the city, despite the force that's been sent north and the mess made by the lieutenant governor.”

“No. Not in a conventional fight,” Serdra said. “But the Brotherhood has employed various unconventional methods through their history.”

“Thorkell saw no definitive proof these were fighters,” Maron said. “No weapons, no use of titles and no armours. So if such things are being hidden they can't be here for legal purposes.”

“What kind of sorcery might he use to make such a small force powerful?” Katja asked.

“Well, he can't wave his hands and make the men themselves stronger,” Serdra explained. “And sorcery that can turn large battles hasn't been seen in a while. He might have dug up some of Zakari's teachings, but he might also summon a powerful demon and let it loose in the city. Still, it is difficult to control such monsters, and such an extreme and obvious act would severely violate the secrecy the Brotherhood has operated under for so long.”

Silence reigned at the table for a little bit.

“So we first and foremost need to know what is going on,” Maron said. “We need to know what tricks the Brotherhood intend to play out this time, whether Savaren has indeed hired mercenaries and what he intends to do with them, and what the general situation is on Mooncape.
Then
we can decide on an action.”

“And what actions are available to us?” Katja asked.

“If they are just innocent workers I CAN gather a large enough group to assault the Brotherhood under cover of darkness, but that would take time I think we don't have and probably draw attention we cannot afford. To say nothing of the loss of life. So we should try to solve this with smaller, precise operations.”

Maron called the boy and told him to fetch Ronald and Thorkell. Serdra stood up, saying she needed to relive herself. She left and Katja sat alone with their host.

This was a seasoned man. Even with her limited life experiences she could easily see it. He was of course more human than Serdra, but the eyes, way of speaking and just general demeanour bore witness to great hardships that had toughened rather than broken him. He was like an older, exaggerated version of Hjalmar.

“Are you her first pupil?” he asked after a brief silence.

“Yes. So she says.”

“Hm,” the old man said, looking thoughtful. “She mentioned that option in the old days; that she would one day prepare one of you for this struggle. I didn't expect to see it with my own eyes.”

It didn't seem like he expected a reply, and Katja didn't know what she could be expected to say. She was a bit tempted to ask him about Serdra in her 'younger' days. Whether she had been different or if she'd already become this immovable glacier Katja knew, and what meaning the answer had for Katja's own future.

But she didn't know this man at all.

Serdra returned and the boy came soon after with men.

“This is Ronald,” Maron pointed at a young, dark-skinned man with a slim, taut body, “and Thorkell.” The other man seemed to be slightly older than Ronald, and had dark hair on top of a square head and broad shoulders.

“My name is Serdra. This is Katja.”

The men bowed their heads slightly and greeted them, though they seemed a bit confused about the situation. Katja remembered the boy who'd fetched them had not been told who or
what
they were.

“Ronald came with me from Amerstan and Thorkell is among those we've been training. They're both skilled with arms, silent, learned, stout and... well, now they finally have a chance to prove their courage.”

Maron glared at them rather strictly. It was clear what kind of result he expected.

“So the time has come?” Ronald asked the old man. Something about him reminded Katja a bit of herself.

“Yes,” Maron said. “There has been enough waiting. You will leave today and assist them in investigating Mooncape and deal a blow to the Brotherhood if possible.”

“Are you from the Revsaka-group?” Thorkell asked.

“No no no. These are the guests we have been expecting.”

The young men widened their eyes and stared at them. It wasn't too dissimilar to the carpenter's reaction in Rapids.

Would they be startled if I suddenly shouted?
Katja thought.

“Well now, no lollygagging!” Maron said and knocked his cane on the floor. “Go and say your farewells while they eat, then get ready to head out.”

The men nodded, spent a moment to examine them some more and then left.

“BOY!” Maron shouted. “FETCH BREAD AND BLOOD PUDDING!”

He then sat back in his seat and smirked.

“Being old and important has a great many perks.”

--------------------

The Shades had a decent armoury: Axes, spears, knives, protective wear, three bows and a few swords.

“Has the route to Mooncape changed any?” Serdra asked Maron while the men went over the equipment.

“The settlement has grown, as I said,” the old man answered. “But there are no new roads. The old ones have just been improved.”

“Then the two of us had better travel off them.”

“Yes. Thorkell knows people in Mooncape and can feign an errand.”

“Yes,” Thorkell said. “I lent a jacket to a man there a while ago. I can go to get it back and look around while I'm at it.”

“
You
try to stay out of sight though,” Maron told Ronald. “And they had better carry all the larger weapons.”

Katja looked at the axe, the spear, the bow, the quiver and the sword they'd taken and wanted to object but let it go. It would be highly suspicious if they paid a simple visit heavily armed, and they mustn't risk exposing this place.

“Where are we to meet up again?” Thorkell answered.

“You probably know the area better than I do,” Serdra said. “If Katja and I circle to the southwest, past Muzzle Lake, where is a good hiding place we can all find?”

The man was quick to answer. The Shades had probably considered an assault on Mooncape for a long time.

“Do you know the Maw Oak?”

“I certainly do,” Serdra said. “I buried a corpse close to it.”

“I would consider that a good hiding place. The area around is very grown and there is no way to see it from Mooncape. Yet it is relatively easy to go from there to the northern part of town.”

“Alright, good, let us do that. I should be able to find it. Has the western forest been logged to any great degree since the old days?”