Swordmage

SIXTEEN

27 Ches, the Year of the Ageless One

As it turned out, Geran and Hamil did not reach Rosestone until almost noon, hungry and exhausted. The monks were happy to provide them with a good meal and allowed the two travelers to rest in their hostel. By the time Geran and Hamil rested and told the story of the tomb of Terlannis and the appearance of Aesperus to the Initiate Mother, the afternoon was waning, so Geran reluctantly decided to spend the night at Rosestone. It was noon of the second day after their fight at the barrow when the two companions trudged wearily up the causeway of Griffonwatch and climbed to the Harmach’s Tower, footsore and fairly well soaked from a long morning’s walk in the warm spring showers that had settled over Hulburg during the previous night.

“Look! Look! Hamil and Geran are back!” Kirr and Natali were at their lessons in the family’s great room but cast aside their primers and crowded close to the weary travelers, shouting a dozen questions at once. “Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days! Did you fight any monsters? Did you find any gold?”

Geran looked down in surprise at the top of Natali’s head as she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. He shrugged his rucksack off his shoulder and patted her back with his other arm. Strange how quickly children decide you’re family, he mused. They’ve known us only for a tenday, but I can’t remember the last time someone was so happy just to see me walk in a door. Maybe it was still the novelty of someone new under the same roof. “One question at a time, you two,” he said. “We’ve been out on the Highfells, riding all over the moors. And yes, we met some fearsome monsters, and no, we didn’t find any gold, and then our horses ran off so we had to walk all the way home.”

“Did you see the orc army?” Kirr asked. “Do you think there’s going to be a battle?”

“Orc army? What orc army?” Geran asked.

“Bloody Skull orcs came to Griffonwatch while you were gone,” Natali explained breathlessly. “We weren’t supposed to watch, but we did. We crept into the Great Hall and listened to them talk to Grandfather and all the other important people like Kara and Sergen and the rest. They seemed very angry, and they threatened Grandfather. They said that if he didn’t give them five wagons full of gold they’d burn Hulburg.” She looked up at Geran, a trace of uncertainty in her eyes. “Do you think the orcs will really come here?”

“I doubt it, Natali,” Geran said. “The orcs of Thar haven’t mounted a serious attack against Hulburg since before I was born. We’ll have to watch out for raiding parties, though.” The Bloody Skulls? he wondered. They’d never troubled Hulburg before.

It seems that a lot has happened in five days, Hamil said silently to Geran. I wonder what all this is about? For Kirr, he smiled and set his hands on his hips. “We didn’t see any orcs, General Kirr. But we did see a big black ghost-panther that hunted us for days, and we barely escaped from bloodthirsty ghosts who chased us through fog and shadow. We defeated a sphinx made out of bronze, and finally we met the King in Copper himself and lived to tell the tale. So what do you think of that?”

Kirr’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. He stared up at Hamil and simply said, “Ohhhhh.”

“Better not say too much more, Hamil,” Geran said. “Erna will give us an earful if we fill them with stories that keep them up all night.”

“Tell us! Tell us!” Natali said. “We won’t tell Ma.”

Geran shook his head. “Maybe later, but only if your mother says I can. Now, I need to put on some dry clothes.”

He left the young Hulmasters downstairs and went up to his room to change, taking his battered rucksack with him. He took a few moments to wash his face and towel off, found a clean change of clothes in the trunk at the foot of his bed, and trotted back down the stairs to the great room, settling his baldric and scabbard over a much drier tunic. But at the foot of the steps he found Kara waiting for him, her face taut with worry.

“The Shieldsworn told me you’d returned,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here, Geran. A lot’s happened in the last day or two. The harmach wants to speak with you right away.”

“I need to speak with him too,” Geran said. “I have quite a story to tell you, and I’m not sure what it all means.”

“Where have you been for the last few days?”

“Up on the Highfells, but that’s part of the story. You’ll hear it soon enough if you have half an hour to spare.” He heard a light step on the stairs and glanced up; Hamil was coming down as well, having availed himself of the chance to change into dry clothes too. “Hamil, will you join us? My uncle wants to speak with me, and it might be helpful to have two accounts of the last few days.”

“Of course,” the halfling replied. He nodded to Kara. “A pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

“And you, Hamil,” Kara replied. She offered him a fleeting smile and inclined her head. “This way; the harmach’s hearing counsel in the trophy room.”

Geran and Hamil followed her as she led them down a flight of stairs into what would have been the foundations of the Harmach’s Tower. However, since the tower sat atop Griffonwatch’s steep crag, its basement formed another floor just beneath the buildings of the upper courtyard. A long row of windows facing south looked over rain-slick balconies and ramparts toward the Moonsea, a dark gray line beyond the rooftops of the town. The castle had several such hidden floors, some carved out of the living rock in the heart of the hill. Geran fondly remembered exploring all of them with Kara and their cousin Isolmar when all three were children not much bigger than Natali or Kirr. At the end of a long hall stood tall double doors of dark, gleaming wood. There were no Shieldsworn guards in sight; they were well within the Hulmaster family quarters, and the harmach’s men usually watched the doors and halls that led into this part of the castle instead of standing guard within the family residence.

Kara paused by the doors, knocked twice, and let herself in. The room beyond was a large chamber with heavy wooden beams overhead, a long table of fine cherry wood, and a handful of dusty bookshelves and mounted trophies along the walls-a red tiger pelt, a suit of plate armor, a dusty wyvern’s head, and the two-handed greataxe of a frost giant, a weapon fully ten feet long. The chamber was really a smaller, more secure banquet room than the great hall that divided the lower castle from its upper parts, one that just happened to be decorated with a handful of trophies taken by Grigor’s father in his youth.

“Uncle, I’ve brought Geran,” she said.

“Have you? Good.” Harmach Grigor sat in a large, high-backed chair at the head of the table. To his left sat the old keeper of keys, Wulreth Keltor, and beside him High Magistrate Theron Nimstar. Across the table Sergen Hulmaster paced absently. The harmach looked up from his advisors and motioned to Kara. “Come in, come in,” the old lord said. “I am afraid we have much to discuss, and little time.”

“First things first.” Sergen turned to face his stepsister, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore an elegant black tabard embroidered with a golden dragon design, and his habitual smirk was nowhere to be seen. “Did you find any sign of the orc delegation?”

“No, none yet,” Kara answered. “I haven’t had the chance to examine the site personally, but my scouts tell me that their camp is empty and there’s no sign of Morag and the others. I can only guess that, for whatever reason, they decided to leave.”

“But that makes no sense,” Theron Nimstar protested. “They gave us until sunset tomorrow to give our answer. Why leave before they have heard it?

“Perhaps they expected the harmach to refuse outright and were merely playing at offering a chance to buy peace,” Sergen said. “They might have already settled on war, in which case the whole point of the delegation was simply to take our measure.”

“That seems unlikely,” Kara answered. “Orcs are direct-far blunter than we would be. For good or ill, they rarely say anything they don’t mean. They wouldn’t feign a demand for tribute.”

“I’ve heard that this Mhurren has human blood,” Sergen answered. “Perhaps he’s got some human guile in him, too.”

Kara frowned but held her tongue. Geran took the opportunity to step forward. “Forgive me, but Hamil and I have been riding all over the Highfells for days, and we returned only an hour ago. When did the Bloodskulls show up? What do they want?”

“They came to the Raven Hill watchtower under a flag of truce three days ago and demanded to be taken to the harmach,” Kara answered him. “The Shieldsworn escorted them to Hulburg, and the Harmach’s Council heard them out the day before yesterday. They issued a demand for tribute and gave us three days to choose whether to pay or fight.” Kara glanced to the Harmach and then back to Geran. “The orcs were camped in the ruins of the old Windy Ridge post, waiting for our answer. But they seem to have left.”

“Perhaps their nerve failed them, and they feared they would be killed for throwing such an insult in our teeth,” Wulreth Keltor said aloud.

Kara shook her head. “That’s not likely, either. I can’t offer a good explanation for why they left, but I’m certain of this: If the Bloody Skulls didn’t wait for our answer, then they’ve chosen war, and we must prepare ourselves.”

No one spoke for a long moment. Then Harmach Grigor sighed and looked over to the two officials. “Theron, Wulreth, I suppose there is no more point in debating whether we should pay or negotiate. If the orcs have chosen war, then that is that. Wulreth, find some coin to finish the repairs to Daggergard’s gate. I want that work finished as soon as possible. Raid other works if you must. For that matter, we may need to hire mercenaries to fill out our ranks-I’ll take every copper you can find me.”

The keeper of keys made a sour face, but he nodded. “I will do everything I can, Lord Harmach.” He stood and bowed to the harmach; Theron did likewise. Then the two officials left the room, hurrying off to attend to their appointed tasks.

Geran waited for them to leave then cleared his throat. “Uncle Grigor, I think the Bloody Skulls aren’t the only problem at hand. I need to tell you what I’ve learned in the last tenday about Jarad’s murder, House Veruna, and the King in Copper.”

“Aesperus?” Kara shot a surprised look at Geran. “What in the world does he have to do with us?”

Sergen snorted. “He’s a useful bogeyman for scaring ill-behaved children, nothing more.”

The swordmage ignored his stepcousin’s derision. “I’m not sure, Kara, but Aesperus has something to do with House Veruna, and they in turn had much to do with Jarad’s murder.”

Both Grigor and Kara glanced at Sergen, who simply rolled his eyes, folded his arms, and leaned against a bookshelf. The harmach looked back to Geran. “You’d better tell us the whole story,” he said.

“All right.” Geran paused a moment to collect his thoughts then began. “As you know, I wanted to look into Jarad’s death. About ten days ago Kara took Hamil and me up to the barrow where Jarad was killed. We noticed that the barrow had been resealed recently, so we broke in to see what might have drawn the tomb robbers-and presumably Jarad-to that place.”

“You broke the harmach’s law against entering a barrow?” Sergen asked sharply.

“Someone else already had,” Hamil answered for Geran.

“I judged it worth investigating,” Geran continued. “Inside we discovered two fresh bodies hidden beneath the burial stone-a young woman and a man that Kara identified as an armsman of House Veruna.”

“He was buried in his Veruna colors?” Sergen said.

“No, but I recognized him,” Kara replied. She glanced at Geran. “I asked some questions around town after we returned. The dead armsman was Zormun Kelfarel-a Mulmasterite sellsword in the service of House Veruna. And yes, Sergen, I realize that his employers might’ve had no idea what he was up to, so don’t bother to say it.”

“Your discretion is admirable, dear Kara.”

“I also found out more about the tiefling we met outside the barrow, by the way,” Kara continued. “His name is Sarth, and he came to Hulburg about four months ago. Several of the merchant costers tried to hire him on, including House Veruna. All of the merchants look for competent spellcasters to strengthen their private armies.”

“We ran into him again-but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Geran said. He paced absently around the table, organizing his thoughts. “Since we had good reason to be suspicious of House Veruna, I decided to take a closer look at their activities. Hamil and I disguised ourselves and went to work in the Veruna tradeyard for a few days, watching Veruna’s sell-swords closely. Did you know they have well over a hundred men under arms in and around Hulburg? In any event, I got to know many of the Veruna men by sight, including their captain, a man named Urdinger. Hamil and I found that the Veruna sellswords were keeping themselves quite busy, constantly coming and going from their timber camps and mines all around the area.”

“Which is hardly suspicious,” Sergen pointed out. “All of the merchant companies patrol the wildlands around their camps to protect their investments. And I’ll also point out that what you were doing was in breach of the concession laws. The harmach and his agents aren’t allowed to interfere in legitimate business of the merchant costers.”

Hamil grimaced. “Interfere? We gave them an honest day’s work. They’ve never had a better team or wagon.”

“This will go faster if you don’t interrupt me, Sergen,” Geran said. He was rapidly remembering why he’d never liked his stepcousin very much. “After watching the Veruna mercenaries for a few days, I decided to try a different tactic. I set out to look into the tomb-breakings Jarad was investigating. Uncle Grigor gave me the reports Jarad had compiled, and Hamil and I set out to visit each scene. We rode up to the Highfells and examined the barrows. First of all, we noticed that the barrows were not looted indiscriminately-whoever was breaking into the barrows was looking for something specific and leaving other valuables behind. And we noticed something else-each barrow was about the same age. Each was the burial mound of a servant of Lathander, and each dated from the time of old Thentur.

“Once we figured that out, I decided to seek some expert assistance. We went to Rosestone Abbey-a harrowing ride, since the dead walked on the Highfells that night-and spoke with the Initiate Mother. I asked her what tomb robbers might be looking for in the barrow of a Lathanderian from the days of Thentur, and she had an answer for me: a book called the Infiernadex that once belonged to Aesperus himself.”

“The tiefling was looking for a book,” Kara said.

“The same one,” Geran confirmed. “Anyway, Mother Mara told me that it was hidden in the barrow of a high priestess named Terlannis, and she told me where to find it. I decided to remove the book to keep it out of the hands of the men who were looking for it.

“Two days ago, we broke into the barrow of Terlannis. We discovered a secret vault hidden under the burial chamber and found the Infiernadex. But when we emerged from the barrow, we discovered that we’d been tracked. A company of Veruna armsmen was waiting for us.”

“And I suppose these men were wearing their House colors?” Sergen demanded.

“In fact, they were!” Hamil snapped. “And Captain Anfel Urdinger himself ordered Geran to surrender the book at swordpoint.”

Sergen began to reply, but Harmach Grigor held up his hand. “A moment, Sergen. Finish your tale, Geran. What happened then?”

“I threatened to destroy the Infiernadex, because I couldn’t see why they would let us go to carry tales back to Hulburg if I surrendered the tome. But Aesperus appeared-the King in Copper himself. He seized the tome before I could even think of protecting it from him. Then, once he had it, he told Urdinger that he held Veruna’s part of the bargain accomplished, and that he would soon make good on his part.”

Hamil interrupted. “He also said that Urdinger and his men were to despoil no more barrows. I certainly took that to mean that the Veruna men had broken into a number of barrows looking for Aesperus’s book.”

“Aesperus teleported away after that,” Geran continued. “Hamil and I ran back into the barrow we’d just left, hoping to fight off the Verunas. We’d likely be there still, except that the tiefling Sarth arrived and attacked the Verunas. He distracted Urdinger and his men enough for Hamil and me to fight our way back out. The Verunas retreated, and the tiefling-Sarth Khul Riizar is his full name, Kara-flew off into the night, after some sharp words to Hamil and me for allowing Aesperus to reclaim his old book.

“After that, Hamil and I retraced our steps to Rosestone, rested there a night, and set out at first light this morning for Hulburg.” Geran paused, thinking over what he’d just said, and leaned on the dark cherrywood table to meet his uncle’s eyes. “What it all means, I can’t say. But now I know that House Veruna men were the ones breaking into the tombs on the Highfells, I know that Veruna men killed Jarad Erstenwold, I know they struck some sort of bargain with the King in Copper, and I know Veruna men were ready to kill Hamil and me to keep us from telling you what we saw.”

The harmach frowned and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “That is a black tale you bring to us, Geran. I know that Darsi Veruna is no friend to me, but treachery and murder such as this…”

Sergen began to chuckle, then laughed deeply and richly. “Surely you don’t believe all this, Uncle? It’s a wild exaggeration at best, and more likely an outright fabrication!” He pushed himself upright from the bookshelf he had been leaning against and looked at Geran. “Aesperus himself took the book from your hands, and you were rescued by a mysterious devilspawned sorcerer who then flew off into the night? Ah, goodness! I had no idea you were capable of such ridiculous invention, Geran! Why, The Bride of Secomber couldn’t best that tale! Are you sure you’re not a playwright?”

Geran stood up straight and glared at Sergen. “Every word I’ve spoken here today is true. Don’t call me a liar again.”

“Why should we believe you?” Sergen asked. His easy smile fell from his face, and his dark eyes glittered like serpent scales. “You haven’t seen a reason to spend ten days in this house in the last ten years-the house of your father and your father’s father. You’re a feckless wanderer, Geran, chasing after childish dreams of glory and fame. I don’t doubt that a man such as you might invent any sort of fantastic tale to justify a few more hours of adoration from those too foolish to look past your wild claims and ask for some small shred of proof.”

“Enough, both of you,” Harmach Grigor said. “We have-”

“Now that’s odd,” Geran retorted to Sergen. “You haven’t seen fit to spend a single day in your father’s house in all that time. Where is he now, I wonder? Selling children into slavery? Robbing and murdering his way through the world as a common highwayman? Or perhaps groveling in front of some demon’s bloody altar? As I see things, Sergen, you’ve claimed my family’s name and sold off my family’s property for your own riches. Maybe we should’ve run you off all those years ago when that traitorous, blackhearted father of yours fled for his miserable life!”

“That is enough!” the harmach snapped.

“You’ll regret those words,” Sergen hissed. He took a step toward Geran, his hand dropping to the hilt of his rapier.

For his own part, Geran rounded the table and took three strides toward his stepcousin. He’d be damned if he would let Sergen call him a liar. “What are you hiding?” he growled. “Why are you trying to protect House Veruna? Did they buy your loyalty, such as it is? Perhaps you hope to succeed where your father failed?”

“Geran, I will have no more of this!” Grigor roared. He stood and struck his cane against the floor. “Sergen may not be of Hulmaster blood, but my sister raised him as her own son, and I will not hear another word about his father’s deeds!”

Geran hesitated. In all of his life he had never heard the harmach raise his voice so. Sergen fell silent too, but still glared at Geran. Kara stepped between the two and then looked to the harmach. “Uncle Grigor, we all know that Sergen is… close… to Darsi Veruna. Geran’s charges against the Verunas are serious and must be answered, but Sergen’s not likely to demand explanations from House Veruna.”

Sergen turned a black look on his stepsister but mastered himself with a visible effort. “I don’t deny that I am courting Lady Darsi. Nor do I deny that we’ve had a profitable association-all of us. House Veruna accounts for almost half of the concession fees collected on Hulmaster land. But that doesn’t make Geran’s wild accusations true, Uncle. I have in fact already heard a different account of what transpired on the Highfells. I didn’t want to mention it for fear of shaming a kinsman I haven’t seen in a long time, but it seems clear that I must speak of it now.” Sergen frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know how to say this, but… Captain Urdinger reported to Lady Darsi that he and his men were performing a routine patrol when they stumbled across a pair of bandits looting a tomb in search of nothing more exotic than barrow-gold. When they challenged the looters, they discovered Geran and his small accomplice there, who attacked them rather than allowing themselves to be taken into custody. They murdered several Veruna armsmen and fled into the mists.” He looked at Geran and added, “So where have you hidden the gold you’ve looted? How many more barrows do you intend to pillage before you flee Hulburg and go off to plunder some other land?”

“You lying serpent…” Geran snarled in fury.

Easy, Geran, Hamil told him. The halfling set his hands on his hips and looked up at Sergen. “So, Lord Sergen, are Geran and I responsible for the barrows that were plundered before we even arrived in town? If we didn’t do it, then who did?”

Kara narrowed her azure eyes and folded her arms over her breastplate. “For that matter, Sergen, why didn’t you report this dire tale as soon as you heard it?”

“Frankly, I thought Geran had already fled Hulburg again,” Sergen answered. “He hasn’t been seen here in days, after all, and I hoped to spare the family any story of his misdeeds. You all seem to think well of him, after all.” He glanced down at Hamil and shrugged. “As far as who opened barrows before you arrived, well, we have only your word that you returned to Hulburg when you claim you did. How do we know you haven’t been here for months, searching out barrows to loot? For that matter, how do we know that you weren’t the very tomb robbers Jarad Erstenwold died trying to arrest?”

“Now that’s ridiculous!” Kara snapped. “Perhaps you’d like to suggest that Geran is responsible for the Spellplague and the Time of Troubles too, while you’re at it?”

The harmach sighed. “Sergen, I don’t find your accusations against Geran very credible. Your anger is speaking for you.”

“They are not my accusations, Uncle. I’m only reporting what’s been told to me. Regardless of what you find credible, there are a dozen Veruna blades who can swear to their account of what happened on the Highfells two nights ago.” Sergen drew himself up and measured Geran sternly. “Geran may have inveigled you with his self-aggrandizing tales, but I think the Merchant Council will be less easily swayed by old affection.”

“I will lay Geran’s charges against House Veruna before the Merchant Council, Sergen,” the harmach warned. “And I expect them to be investigated thoroughly and impartially. If you are not capable of doing that, I’ll appoint a new keeper of duties to oversee the Council Watch and see to it.”

“So you take Geran at his word?” Sergen pointed at Geran and snarled, “While he’s been off playing at adventure in foreign lands, I’ve stayed here and built Hulburg from a forgettable little backwater into a prosperous town! What’s he ever done for this city or this family? This drafty old castle would be crumbling around your ears if not for the coin I brought in. I refuse to let his wild stories antagonize a trading partner as valuable as Mulmaster!” He glared defiantly around the room and then abruptly shouldered his way past Geran and stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Geran drew a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair; the harmach sat down slowly and leaned his cane against his chair. No one else said anything for a long moment, and then Hamil cleared his throat and said, “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of place, but why charge Urdinger and the Veruna men through the Merchant Council? Why not send the Shieldsworn to arrest them?”

“My hands are bound by the laws of concession, Master Hamil,” the harmach answered. “Matters of justice pertaining to the merchant costers are dealt with by the Merchant Council. My Shieldsworn aren’t permitted to set foot in the conceded territory, nor are they allowed to arrest foreigners employed by a merchant company holding a concession. We must lay our charges before the Merchant Council and allow the council to arrest, try, and sentence their own.”

“And do you trust Sergen to charge and try House Veruna’s armsmen?” Geran asked.

Grigor glanced out the leaded window at the warm rain pattering down over the town. “Sergen has shown that his loyalty lies with our family on many occasions, Geran,” he said quietly. “I’ve always believed that trusting someone can make that person worthy of trust, and Sergen long ago made up for the harm his father intended against us. But it might be true that he’s become too entangled with the merchants he deals with.”

“He’s protecting Jarad’s murderer, Uncle Grigor.”

“Which he may not have known he was doing until you reported what you’d found in the Highfells,” the harmach pointed out. He shifted his gaze back to Geran and met his eyes. “I’ll give him a few days to show me that he can set aside his dislike for you and act on the information you’ve brought to light, and if he doesn’t, then yes, I will replace him. Now-tell me everything about Aesperus and this book. I want to know what the King in Copper has to do with this whole affair.”