The Merchant and the Menace (43 page)

“But what if I don’t feel like acting? What if I
feel like I’m not the one who should be acting?” questioned Kael. “How do I
know what my job is?”

“As I said, my boy, it’ll come to you. We’re all
born into a situation. Our lives may take us many different places, but our
true nature always rises to the top,” answered Teeg. “Your father was never
meant to be a shepherd’s son. He could have stayed in the foothills of the
Zorim, chasing wolves from his flock, but something called him. Your mother
could have married some fool of a courtesan, probably a titled baron with
wealthy land possessions, but she did not. She followed her heart.”

“But my mother escaped. She left responsibility.
When they moved to Kelky she was able to run and avoid it,” stated Kael.

“Ah,” smiled Teeg. “You think that story I told you
is about your mother escaping? Running from a controlling father and the
responsibilities of a kingdom?”

“Well, isn’t that what she did?” questioned Kael.

“OF COURSE NOT YOU DOLT!” shouted Teeg.

The remainder of the party turned to stare at Teeg
and Kael. The old Elf’s eyes bore into the boy.

“We are having a lesson. Please attend to your
business gentlemen!”

Eidyn smiled at Manfir.

“That was me, not so long ago,” smiled the Elven
prince.

Teeg resumed the discussion.

“Do you honestly believe walking away from a life
of privilege and power to run an inn in the middle of nowhere AND raise two
small boys is an escape from responsibility?”

“Well, I thought ..” began Kael.

“No, you didn’t think!” snapped Teeg. “I don’t find
a problem with you feeling sorry for yourself, Kael. We all do it now and
again. But don’t let it start to cloud your perception of reality! Don’t let it
tell you that you’re the only one who sacrifices. You’ve been a part of this
struggle for a short time. Some of us have been waging this war for hundreds of
years. Some of us lost loved ones, just as you lost Aemmon. Some of us know what
it’s like to release a normal life, a carefree life and accept a life of
struggle.”

Kael bowed his head, squirming in the saddle. He
reflected on Hrafnu once more. He contemplated Awoi and Gretcha. He pondered
his father’s years in the Guard. He thought of Cefiz. He glanced forward to
Manfir. So many scars crisscrossed the big man’s arms and face. Teeg, as
perceptive as usual, continued.

“Those scars are what you receive for joining the
struggle. Even a man as stoic as Manfir wouldn’t lie to you. He would admit
that each and every scar caused him pain. But would he give them all back, to
avoid the fight? I think not. The struggle will wound you. It may even kill
you. But if the fight is worthy, that is enough,” said Teeg. “You wear your
first scar. The loss of your brother will stay with you a lifetime. Just as the
rain will cause an old wound to ache, so will memories of your youth cause your
brother’s memory to ache in your heart. Live with your scars. Know there will be
more to follow, but never never question whether they are worth it.“

Teeg turned forward and trotted ahead to join up
with Eidyn. Kael was left with his thoughts. Thoughts of doubt and sorrow.
Thoughts he decided to deal with.

The troop cantered along and night fell over the
rolling hills around Rindor. The road rose to the crest of one of these small
hills. Kael’s sight fell upon Rindor. Two leagues down the road stood the river
city, bathed in moonlight. The Ituan River flowed deep and wide at this point in
its journey from the Zorim Mountains to the Toxkri Swamp. Its spinning, rolling
currents pushed around an island at the river’s widest point. Set atop this
rocky island stood the city of Rindor. Massive stone slab after massive stone
slab rose straight out of the flowing waters and stretched into the clouds. Not
a single square yard of the island was left without structure. Martins and
terns wheeled around the parapets feasting on the flying insects of nightfall.
Their darting figures resembled a star shower as the moonlight caught their
plumage and lit them in the night sky. The shimmering water rolled past. Kael
felt his heart race at the beauty of the city.

“The duchy of Rindor awaits gentlemen,” said Manfir
smiling. “Perhaps a warm bed and a good meal will take some of the ache out of
our bones.”

The group trotted down the road at a much livelier
pace with that suggestion fresh in their minds. As they approached the river,
they came to a long bridge. The bridge spanned the river from the south shore
to the island. A large guard post sat next to the slightly arching bridge.
Windows glowed with candlelight in the early evening. A guard stepped from the
post and blocked entry to the bridge. He held a large trident nearly as tall as
himself. The guard quickly surveyed the travelers and his eyes nervously
shifted back to the guardhouse. He dipped the trident’s pointed tines slightly
forward and spoke loudly.

“Stand your ground! What brings so many riders to the
doors of Rindor this night?”

Kael glanced through an open window and saw other
uniformed soldiers throw gaming cards down on a table, clutch similar tridents
and scramble to the post’s doorway. Several soldiers burst through the door at
once and took up position behind the spokesman. All of them nervously fidgeted
with their weapons.

Ader edged his huge stallion to the front of the
group and a look of compassion and understanding spread across his face. At
first, the soldiers appeared uneasy about the presence of Tarader. However,
once the old man spoke, their tension melted away. His voice was steady, calm
and reassuring.

“I will wager your day is a long one?” smiled the
Seraph. “Mine feels like an eternity. The open road treats old bones poorly.”

Ader rubbed the small of his back as he hunched
over.

“Aye, it is a long and tiring day,” returned the
spokesman. “Many folk travel the road.”

“A sign of troubled times,” sighed Ader. “People
uprooted. Armies forming. Men called to battle. What are simple folk like you
and I to do?”

Kael watched the spokesman and others in his group
turn to one another and acknowledge their agreement with the old man.

“Tis true. We were just discussing the troubles
over a game in yon house,” said the spokesman pointing to the guard post.

“Most assuredly Rindor will find herself embroiled
in the troubles, as all great nations do,” said Ader shaking his head sadly.
“And you poor gentlemen will find yourselves as embroiled as your homeland.”

“You may be right sir, you may be right,” nodded
the spokesman.

The others in the group shook their heads in
agreement. That’s when Kael felt it. A tingle on his neck. The slightest raise
of the hairs on his arms. A breeze of power misting over him. He calmed himself,
closed his eyes and focused.

The boy became aware. Aware of the stream of power
gently flowing from the old man. Unlike Ader’s display in the Nagur Wood, this
use of his power was subtle, invisible. It washed out over the Rindoran soldier
and the group arrayed about him. It delicately pushed and prodded their
feelings.

“An old man shouldn’t be out on the road at night,
but the command of my crown forces me,“ frowned Ader. “I’m loyal to my king and
must obey. We are called to Zodra and to Zodra we must go.”

“Yes, the life of a soldier is hard,” agreed the
spokesman narrowing his eyes at the group. “But we are honor bound to our duty.
You arrive at Rindor at a late hour, in force and heavily armed. I cannot allow
you to enter the city.”

Ader’s arm swept across his traveling companions.

“You call this ragged group a force,” smiled the
old man. “This collection threw itself together on the open road in order to
protect itself. An intelligent man such as yourself surely understands the
logic in that.”

Kael felt the power from Ader intensify and flow
out over the group. An even greater feeling of calm swept over him. He felt
genuinely good about the situation they were in. These men were their friends
and caused them no harm. All was fine here.

“This is true,” nodded the spokesman smiling. “Tis
foolish to travel the open road alone.”

“Caylit, there is no threat with these travelers,”
called a soldier from behind the spokesman. “Let these good fellows be on their
way and we’ll return to our game.”

The spokesman shook his head and cleared his mind.
The smile quickly faded from his face with the challenge to his authority. He
eyed the travelers once more.

“I’ve a want to allow you to pass, but the odd
nature of your group calls me to question myself. How comes an old man, two
young boys, a man with the look of a hardened veteran, a pair of Elves, and a
...” the head guard halted.

He edged forward toward Ader and scrutinized Granu.
The Keltaran giant stood at the back of the group hunching down behind Eidyn’s
stallion. Kael was amazed at how such a big man made himself so unnoticed.

As the guard slowly moved past Ader the old man
raised his hand slowly.

“My nephew, a bit slow,” said Ader touching a
finger to the side of his head. “I was saddled with the poor boy after his
parents perished from the red fever years ago. He has no caretaker. I can leave
him with no one as I ride to war. As you see, he is a man of no small measure,
but as gentle as a kitten. I’m afraid I will lose him on the battlefield.”

A wave of empathy swept over Kael. He almost
believed Ader’s story himself and was overwhelmed with sympathy and sorrow for
the plight of this old man and his addled nephew. Surely the boy would be lost
on the northern battlefields. The spokesman frowned and nodded at Granu.

“A sad state. Avra challenges us all in our own
way,” frowned the guard.

“Yes, he does. Perhaps Rindor will be the last
place he sleeps in a warm bed and eats a decent meal. We are to be sent to the
battlefields immediately,” said Ader.

“A soldier’s life is hard,” mumbled the guard
seeming to come to a decision. “The least we can do as an ally of the crown is
to provide that last meal and bed to the troops who protect us with their
lives.”

“Here! Here!” came a few calls from the group
arrayed behind him.

“You may pass,” stated the head guard. “Foran!
Signal the gatekeeper.”

One of the guards ran to the post and removed a lit
candle. A small, wooden deck on the back of the guardhouse faced the river. The
soldier strode over to a series of posts set into a rail. He touched the candle
to the top of seven posts. The heads immediately sputtered and caught fire.
Seven torches guttered in the night.

“We must wait for acknowledgment,” said the guard.

Kael searched through the darkness across the river
to where he assumed the bridge ended. After a short wait, the boy saw a light
appear in the distance. A lone torch was lit in reply.

“Go now and find rest and comfort in the citadel of
Rindor, my friends,” said the guard. “If you stay to the right as you enter the
city, you will come shortly to ‘The Singing Mermaid’. Tell them Caylit sent you
there. Tis an excellent establishment if I do say so.”

“He must,” added a soldier behind the head guard.
“His father-in-law owns it.”

Caylit scowled, then clapped the fellow on the back
and laughed as they turned to reenter the guard post.

“Fare thee well, old man. May Avra smile on you,”
called Caylit over his shoulder.

“Oh, I can assure you He does,” whispered Ader to
himself.

The group moved out onto the bridge and began their
journey over the Ituan River. The horses’ hooves sounded out the pace on the
heavy timbers forming the causeway. Kael stared in amazement at the structure
beneath his feet. He estimated its distance at three hundred yards or more.
Rolling black water surged and swirled below them, pounding the stone moorings
of the bridge. However, Kael felt none of this assault as he trotted above the
torrent on his sturdy mount. It was as if he were riding on solid ground, not a
bridge. The structure stretched to a width of at least five yards. Several
members of the group rode abreast with plenty of room to move. Fish jumped in
the river below and Kael noted several small boats moving in and out of its
currents.