The Sigil Blade (28 page)

“I thought your skin was armored. I didn’t think it would do any damage.”

“So you just decided that you were going to test it out!” She cried. Herja remained angry, but she was also looking at Logaeir with respect that had not been there before. “The armor thing is usually true,” she said, calming down a little. “Just not in my case,” she added with a hint of embarrassment.

Herja began to examine the cut in her tunic where the blade had gone in.

“I hope I didn’t do any serious harm,” Logaeir said, still worried that she might yet decide to retaliate.

“One of the first things you do when you find out you are dead,” Herja said, “is to get rid of most of your internal organs.” She apparently didn’t understand how this sounded to someone else. Logaeir tried not to react.

If he had possessed enough courage, Logaeir would have liked to have asked what it was that he had hit with his knife that had prevented it from going deeper. Logaeir was sure that it was not bone. He suspected it was hardened metal.

“There isn’t really anything you could have damaged,” she continued. “My shirt though, it isn’t the sort of thing I can replace. And you wouldn’t believe how terrible Thovin is at mending. Hilek is surprising’ good at it though.”

Logaeir shook his head as he listened to her talk at length as if these were all very ordinary things. “You are rather grounded for an immortal being,” Logaeir said, expressing in an understated way, the discordant wonder which he felt so strongly each time Herja spoke. She did defy every expectation he would have presupposed of an undying corpse. Logaeir didn’t dare say it out loud, but once you got past the more menacing aspects of her appearance and behavior, she had something resembling a sense of humor and was companionable in her own fashion. Or at least she might have been were it not absolutely imperative that she be persuaded to leave the island as soon as possible.

“Seoras was right about you,” she said. Her pleased expression projected what Logaeir was certain must be a draugr’s approximation of happy. “You and your Ascomanni could be very useful.”

Chapter 15

Commander Ledrin

R
uach’s efforts to carry out his captain’s orders had been repeatedly frustrated. They had met up with an Ossian ship named the
Wave Splitter
, but there had been no opportunity to speak with the ship’s captain. He and Oren had been kept on Krin’s ship, the
Black Strand
, and were at this moment sailing into the Citadel Harbor under escort.

Two short stints at sea had been enough for Ruach to know that he was never going to enjoy the constant rolling motion of a ship, and he looked forward to setting his feet upon the earth once more. Krin had watched them for the entire three days at sea, and he followed them even now as they disembarked the Ascomanni vessel.

A solemn face greeted both Oren and Ruach. Patiently waiting on the weathered planks of the waterfront dock, stood Commander Ledrin. News of their return had obviously preceded their arrival, or the foremost among the eight commanders who shared in the leadership of the Sigil Corps wouldn’t have been here. Ledrin looked both anxious and displeased as he waited for his men to approach.

“I don’t see him,” Ledrin said, stating the obvious. “I hope you at least managed to locate him.”

“We found Aisen,” Oren said, eager to share the news, “but he isn’t with us.”

Oren was about to continue but Ruach interrupted, directing a casual momentary sideways glance in Krin’s direction. “It would be best if we spoke somewhere else.”

“Have your little meeting of Sigil Order initiates,” Krin joked. “I can see that I’m not invited. I’ll stay on my ship, and have a secret meeting of my own.”

“This is Captain Sarel Krin,” Oren said, belatedly introducing their companion. “He is a leader among the Ascomanni.”

“You will be coming too, Captain Krin,” Ledrin ordered. “I have questions that you will answer once I have spoken with Oren and Ruach and our ‘little’ meeting is over.”

The Ascomanni strongman cracked a smile at the remark, which he had taken for an attempt at humor, but Ledrin just continued to frown.

“I’ll not complain,” Krin said, looking up at the tall walls of the white fortress that overlooked the harbor, “if I get a tour of that place.”

“I can do better than that. I can arrange a room for you,” Ledrin said.

There was an unused dungeon in the fortress, and Ruach wondered whether things were going so poorly that this was what the commander was making reference to. Deciding not to share that particular speculation with Krin, Ruach made an attempt to make it clear that the Ascomanni captain was here as an ally.

“Captain Krin is here at our behest, with an offer of support,” Ruach said.

“And he is welcome to stay,” Ledrin replied. Almost as an afterthought he added a qualification to the offer. “If you are willing to accept an escort that is—neither you nor your crewmen are permitted to enter the city or leave the dockside areas unless you are accompanied by one of my officers.”

Ledrin began to walk, followed closely by the two officers. Krin hoped they would be going to the fortress, but Ledrin was taking them to a group of garrison buildings, advantageously positioned between the bustling harbor and the sprawling town built up beneath the protective shadows of the Port Citadel.

The soldiers who policed this area, as well as many of the tradesmen and a few of the laborers, were of apparent Edoric descent, but the waterfront was otherwise dominated by men from different Rendish nations, primarily Ossians, moving merchandise to and from the ships that were tied up in the harbor. Goods moved between the docks and the city via checkpoints, manned by uniformed soldiers from the garrison, and tariffs were collected with each exchange.

Krin knew that on the Edoric side of these checkpoints, there would be no corresponding mix of cultures. Foreigners were banned from traveling within the borders of Nar Edor, except as Ledrin had said, under a protective escort provided by the Sigil Corps. It wasn’t quite clear who was being protected from whom under this arrangement, but he understood the reasons for the animosity and distrust. Given a history of attacks by Rendish raiding parties in the past, it was remarkable that a ship belonging to a man of Krin’s reputation had been allowed into the harbor.

After reaching the garrison, Ledrin soon ushered Oren and Ruach into his private offices and was about to leave Krin in the company of a couple of soldiers who were standing guard beside the door. Neither of them stood out to Krin as particularly intimidating men, and they were nowhere close to the Ascomanni captain in terms of size or strength. However, Krin had received enough training from Oren and Ruach while they had been at the Ascomanni encampment to understand just how capable these soldiers would be.

“We are not to be disturbed for any reason,” Ledrin said to the waiting guards. Before closing the door, Ledrin gave the guards one more instruction. “See to Captain Krin. I am sure he is expecting our hospitality and could use a little refreshment.”

“Neysim Ells,” said one of the soldiers once the door had been shut, addressing his towering guest while extending his hand in greeting.

“Sarel Krin,” the Ascomanni captain replied. He accepted Neysim’s hand and gave it a firm shake, testing the strength of the other man in the process.

“The common room is this direction,” Neysim said, pointing the way as he began to lead Krin out from the anteroom of Commander Ledrin’s office.

“If it means food and drink, I’ll follow where you lead.”

The other solider remained posted outside Ledrin’s quarters as they headed down the corridor and travelled towards the center of the garrison.

“It’s a shame your friend isn’t coming,” Krin said.

“Egran? He isn’t exactly a friend, and he would be abandoning his post if he left, though I don’t think he would even want to come. He isn’t over-fond of Ossians.”

“I’m not an Ossian,” Krin responded. “I’m a citizen of An Innis, by way of Seridor.”

Neysim blanched at the revelation that Krin was from Seridor.

“Last I saw of Nar Edor, was from the deck of a ship, twenty years ago.”

“You came with Beodred’s men.” Neysim concluded.

“And left a prisoner to the Ossians,” Krin answered. “I may have come here with him, but as to actually being one of Beodred’s men, I wouldn’t make that claim, not as such, or at least not willingly so. I was maybe fourteen and wasn’t part of the fighting in the city. All the same, I did get to enjoy several months in a makeshift prison camp overseen by none-too-friendly Edoric soldiers when everything was done.”

“You were a conscript?” Neysim asked.

“That would be one way to put it. I was a barely grown young man forced to join the Alliance, little different from so many others who made up the bulk of Bedored’s forces,” Krin confirmed. “Most of us were only too ready to turn on Beodred given an opportunity, and ultimately, that is what we did. We murdered the men who had been left in command of our ship, but we were captured by the Ossians when we tried to get past their blockade.”

As they arrived at the common room, Krin’s recounting of these events was interrupted by the bustle of sounds which on a daily basis could always be heard in consequence of the garrison’s soldiers gathering for the afternoon meal. Several dozen of these soldiers were at this moment eagerly consuming dark bread and large quantities of pork taken from butchered hogs that had been roasted on spits in the center of the room.

“Joining the Sigil Corps doesn’t pay much, in fact it doesn’t pay at all, but we do eat well,” Neysim said as he cut open two loaves and filled them with portions of meat carved from one of the animals.

Neysim found an empty spot for them at one of the tables and deposited the food there before leaving to grab a couple of drinks. Krin had barely had time to sit down before his host reappeared holding two large cups.

“Are you really an Ascomanni captain?” Neysim asked as they ate.

“There are a few now, but I was one of the first,” Krin bragged. Krin might have argued that he was the very first; however, it sounded like an exaggeration even to Krin, despite knowing it to be the truth.

“I’ve heard that Aisen is raising an army of Ascomanni to besiege the capital,” Neysim said, hoping that his guest could confirm the rumor.

“I wouldn’t say that there are enough of us Ascomanni to amount to what you would consider an army,” Krin said.

“I shouldn’t be asking,” Neysim apologized, “not here, and not before Ledrin has had the chance to meet with you. It’s hard to not be curious though, not with the way things stand.”

Krin didn’t ask how things stood. He was caught on something his host had said a little earlier.

“You really don’t receive pay?”

“Even a first year initiate has access to disbursements. You can obtain Order funds when needed, but no one receives wages, and you don’t own anything but your sword, and that only once you have earned it. Not even the commanders own anything.”

“My men get an equal share of all that we capture,” Krin said. “I’m surprised the local lords don’t hire away your best men.”

“It can happen, but never our best,” Neysim said. “In the first place, most of the nobility distrust the Sigil Corps so strongly that they would never allow one of us into their employ.”

“I thought that Edoric lords sent their children for ten years of service to be trained by the Order,” Krin said. He really was confused by this. It was commonly repeated outside Nar Edor that service in the Sigil Corps was in some way compulsory for younger sons among the elite of that insular land. It was strange to hear that nearly the opposite was in fact closer to the truth, and that the nobility did not trust this re-founding of the Sigil Order.

“It isn’t common, but there are some that do,” Neysim acknowledged.  “And there are others that are willing to recruit from the ranks of the Sigil Corps, but they understand they may be adding men with divided loyalties. You swear only one oath when you join the Sigil Corps, and that is that you will swear no oaths.”

“So a former soldier of the Sigil Corps is always either an unsworn man, or an oath breaker. No wonder the nobility doesn’t approve.”

“It’s more than that. Time in the Order changes a man. We are bound to principles that guide our actions in ways that often conflict with the interests and unchecked ambitions of powerful men.”

“There is nothing wrong with ambition, and nothing keeps loyalty like coin,” Krin argued. “I’ll wager I could buy yours.”

“You couldn’t,” Neysim disagreed. “I have already finished my ten year service. The wealthiest and most powerful merchants in Nar Edor all arose from out of the ranks of former Sigil Corps trained soldiers. The connections you make while in the Order are a guarantee of well-paid employment once you leave service.”

“That is how you maintain loyalty then,” Krin concluded.

Neysim nodded his head in agreement. “A man motivated by money or power will hardly purchase it at the expenditure of his freedom, swearing service to a Lord and landowner who would never share with his men what the Order does.”

“But did not Aedan Elduryn swear his loyalty to Kyreth Edorin?”

“He did,” Neysim agreed, “but that was before the re-founding of the Order, and it is said that he later rescinded that oath.”

This was all intensely interesting to Krin. Most of what he had heard of the Sigil Corps and of Aedan Elduryn had not come from someone so close to the source, and what he was learning now differed from most of what was widely believed beyond the borders of Nar Edor.

“If a man leaves the Corps before finishing his service, I suppose he isn’t much use then to anyone,” Krin said.

“We would let even the worst failures enlist again if they desired it,” Neysim said, “but they start a new ten year term if they do.”

Krin was starting to see the appeal of a group like the Sigil Corps. It went beyond the romantic notion of the near mythical order of Sigil Warriors of old that this group was trying to emulate. Recruiting even a few of these men into the Ascomanni would be invaluable, but it was going to be a difficult bargain to sell.

Oren and Ruach arrived a moment later, abruptly interrupting Krin’s efforts to progress the conversation further. Egran followed along a short distance behind, but he continued on past the group without bothering to acknowledge any of them.

“Ledrin wants to speak with you,” Ruach said.

Krin stuffed pieces of meat and bread into his mouth, hurriedly finishing what was left of his food as he casually complied with the summons. Neysim started to rise as well but Ruach stopped him.

“Oren and I will take your post for a while,” Ruach said to Neysim. “Finish your meal and head back when you are ready.”

“Lead on,” Krin said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food that he had yet to swallow.

Oren and Ruach exchanged a few looks as the three of them travelled back down the corridors on the way to Ledrin’s quarters.

“Is he even going to get the message through?” Oren asked his companion.

“He has channels, and I think we can trust that he will use them,” said Ruach.

“I don’t suppose anyone would like to tell me what we are talking about?” Krin asked, only to be rewarded with an uncomfortable silence. “Someone, please say something,” he demanded with increased when it became clear that no explanation was coming.