Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane) (78 page)

             
“Now, remember what I told you. Just stick to the plan and everything will be fine.”

             
Dor just nodded. After all his anger for Jack having called him afraid, he had to admit to himself that such was actually the case. All he could think of was the dark, suffocating enclosure he had been forced to stay in the whole time he was at Hell’s End Station. A shiver shot through him making his horse shy a bit from his nervousness.

             
“Easy now,” Jack encouraged. “Everything will be just fine.”

             
Dor said nothing entranced by the enormity that was Haykon. Never in his life had he seen anything so large and foreboding. The city walls stretched out to either side for at least a mile before abruptly ending at square towers that reach high into the sky above. Directly in front of them was a gate large enough for four horses walking abreast to pass through. Thick, solid oak doors were swung out towards them and to either side, jutting out from the walls, were two circular towers; these were only half the size of those at the corners and did not extend fully to the ground but instead tapered in half way up the wall. Dor could easily make out the men inside with nocked arrows trained on the pair as they approached the open gates. A total of four guards stood on either side of the entrance wearing heavy chain mail and carrying large pikes. As if by some secret signal, two broke off and came towards the two weary travelers bringing them up to a halt.

             
This is it
, Dor thought miserably.

             
“State your names and business,” the guard closest to Dor barked.

             
“Ease up Smithers,” the other guard said casually. Turning to Jack, he winked and spoke quietly so only Jack could hear. “He’s in training. Indulge us for a moment would you?”

             
Jack smiled and nodded slightly.

             
“Now, Smithers, haven’t you ever heard that it’s easier to shoe a horse with a gentle touch than it is to try and shoe it by wrestling it to the ground?”

             
Smithers straighten up visibly. “Yes sir, Lieutenant Weston, sir.”

             
“Good. Now, try it again.”

             
Smithers glanced at the lieutenant quickly. “Uh, good evening, um, fine sirs. May I ask your names...and, um, what your business might be in our fine city?”

             
Jack kept his smile down. “My name is Jack and this is…well, we just call him, Dor. As you can well see, he is Tjal-Dihn and it would take until sunrise to repeat his full name.”

             
Smithers’ eyes bulged slightly at the mention of Tjal-Dihn and he unconsciously took a step back.

             
The lieutenant stifled back a grin. “Smithers? Carry on.”

             
Smithers looked at the lieutenant with a gapping jaw and then, remembering himself, shut it with a loud clomp. “Yes sir, Lieutenant Weston, sir.” Glancing quickly at Dor he turned to Jack. “And may we know the reason for your stay here, sir?”

             
Jack was enjoying this interplay between Smithers and Weston and himself and under normal circumstances would have delighted in taking the conversation full circle but reluctantly, time and urgency did not allow such luxuries. Jack turned his attention to the lieutenant at his side. “Begging your pardon lieutenant, but we have important information that we must deliver to Colonel Braxton at once. We’ll be staying only until morning before pushing on again.”

             
The lieutenant stared at Jack for a long moment as if in deep contemplation before he finally replied. “I’ll take you to him myself then.”

             
Jack smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sir that would be most gracious of you.”

             
“I see you’ve already disarmed the Tjal-Dihn,” the lieutenant said gesturing towards Dor. “You can keep your weapons but your horses must remain at the stables just inside the gate.”

             
Jack only nodded, well aware of the protocol.

             
Smithers had returned to his gaping examination of Dor, to the Chufa boy’s discomfort, and had to be called twice by his superior before he answered.

             
“Smithers, rally the others and close the gates. I’ll be back with the night orders when I’m finished.”

             
Straightening to attention Smithers saluted crisply. “Yes sir, lieutenant, sir.”

             
Weston turned back to Jack. “Now, if you’ll please dismount and follow me, we’ll get your horses taken care of and you to see the colonel.”

             
At Jack’s signal, Dor dismounted and followed him through the gates and onto the cobblestone streets of Haykon. Dor forced himself not to run to the walls and try to escape as the gates were closed and boarded behind them followed by the lowering of a large, iron portcullis. The lieutenant took them to the left were a large stable housed their mounts. A young boy raced out to receive them as if he’d been expecting their arrival. In short order, Jack and Dor were given their gear and relieved of their horses before they were turned about and led away by Lieutenant Weston.

             
“Your animals will be well cared for,” the lieutenant reassured as they departed the stables and headed into town. “The price is also more than fair, I’m sure you’ll agree when you return to retrieve them.”

Jack just nodded, anxious to reach their destination. Dor stayed glued to his side.

              There were people everywhere. Dor could not suppress the claustrophobic feeling that crushed him from being surrounded by so many HuMans in their odd dress and strange manner. Those feelings only intensified when they entered a street closed in by buildings on either side. To the left the shops had been built right next to one another as if connected into one large whole while to the right groups of small wagons and booth sellers had set up against the side walls of other buildings facing east and west down side streets. Most of the shops had two stories. The lower level contained the shop itself while the second housed the owners and their families. Small balconies were crowded with drying laundry jutting out from the second level of many buildings and colorful signs in flowery script crowded the first floor shops crying for the passerby’s attention. These were not to drown out the din of callers though from the open-air market that competed for attention on the opposite side of the street. The cry for this or that rang out as the hordes of people passed drawing many away from the signs and well kept shops.

             
Dor was suddenly drowned in the wonderful scents that wafted through the air as they past bakeries filled with fresh baked breads and cakes and inns preparing the evening meal for their many guests. A rumble passed through his stomach reminding him of the hour and the fact that he hadn’t had a descent meal since leaving his home in the Ardath Forest.

             
The street suddenly turned into a large square hosting a singular building right in the center that was twice the size of those surrounding it. It was fashioned unlike the wood buildings found throughout the town. This one was built of stone, mimicking the walls that cradled the city. Dor was instantly reminded of the prison at Hell’s End.

             
Sensing his discomfort by the iron grip that suddenly crushed his arm, Jack turned to Dor with a quick word of reassurance. “It’s fine, Dor. This isn’t a prison. It’s built this way to be defensible against attack should the walls be breached.”

             
Dor released his grip somewhat but didn’t feel completely pacified.

             
“If you want, you can wait out here.”

             
Dor looked around at all the HuMans who were eyeing him suspiciously as they passed by. “No,” he said slightly shaking his head. “I’ll stay with you.”

             
Two large, oak doors stood open revealing a great, empty courtyard just inside the block building. As the lieutenant ushered them forward, a sentry for each door came to attention, eyes firmly fixed straight ahead. One broke his statuesque stance and moved to block their way. After saluting the lieutenant he said in a uniform voice, “Your weapons please.” The lieutenant quickly passed over his sword while Jack gathered up his own and then relieved Dor of his dagger.

             
Once inside, the empty courtyard turned out to be just that. What Dor had originally thought to be a large building was actually nothing more than another set of stonewalls surrounding a small rock building about half the size of those found without. They were lead straight to this smaller building and were taken in under another portcullis that was left raised and allowed entrance into a small foyer. To either side were closed doors while facing them was yet another open portcullis revealing what appeared to be a large hole dug right into the floor with a hatch that was left open. On the far side, yet another portcullis was raised giving entrance to what Dor could only guess was another room. It certainly felt like a dungeon to him.

             
Lieutenant Weston turned them to the left and knocked softly on the door. “Colonel, sir, there is an elderly man named Jack and his young Tjal-Dihn companion they call Dor, with a message for you.”

             
The door suddenly popped open and a gray-headed man with dark brown eyes poked his head out. “Jack? Why you old troll,” the man shouted bounding over to him and pulling Jack into a big bear hug. “What brings you out so far from your cozy mountain retreat?”

             
Jack returned the man’s affections heartily before pulling back, a flash of fire in his eyes. “Heard you were having some problems with trolls and thought I best come down and save you all.”

             
The colonel’s expression dropped. “You’re a day late.”

             
Jack didn’t answer.

             
Turning back to the lieutenant, Colonel Braxton dismissed him and then ushered Jack and Dor into his office, closing the door behind them. The colonel’s office was small and dark. There was only one small, barred window close to the ceiling on the back wall that scarcely let in any light. A free standing sconce holding six tallow candles made up where the window had failed casting a misplaced warm glow in the unfriendly enclosure. The only furniture in the room was a small desk facing the door covered with maps and dispatches, a shelf on the left wall filled with the same and a chair behind the colonel’s desk where he plopped himself down with a loud sigh. “So, I guess this is no pleasure trip then to buy ale for old friends.”

             
Jack wasted no time. “I know what happened here last night, Myles. We’ve been tracking that band for quite some time now.”

             
The colonel arched an eyebrow and then nodded to Dor. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

             
Jack’s face clouded. “What?”

             
“Your friend. It’s not everyday a man meets a Tjal-Dihn and lives to tell about it.”

             
Jack turned towards Dor who was hanging back by the door just in case. “Oh, that’s Dor. He doesn’t speak common.”

             
Myles smiled and nodded but got nothing but a blank stare in return. Turning back to Jack he dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. “I know you have a frustrating and strange fascination with trolls, Jack, but there is nothing to do about them.” Leaning forward in his chair, he continued. “I tell you Jack, it was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. A huge mass of trolls came up from the east, from out your way. We’d received reports they were coming but you know trolls. They don’t do well with each other, or anyone else for that matter. I figured it was just some new recruit getting overly excited about his first fight and the whole thing was exaggerated. Well, I’m here to tell you it was no exaggeration.”

             
“I know,” Jack cut in. “The whole Dren loving lot of them seems to be on the march.”

             
“Exactly,” Myles picked up. “But that’s not even the strangest thing about it.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“They didn’t even attack. Not so much as a hurled stone touched our walls. We sent out a patrol to intercept them, of course, and they were more than willing to kill a few of our men, but that was it. I had the whole city ready to turn tail out of here, but they never attacked.”

             
“So, it’s true then,” Jack whispered pulling at his beard. “They’re in the pass?”

             
“Every last one of them. I’ve got the pass sealed now with a detachment.”

             
Jack looked up to the ceiling as if calling for holy inspiration, his hand still holding tight to his whiskers. “Can you give me a detachment of men to ride with me into the pass?”