Saga of the Old City (31 page)
“My dearest Gord,
“I shall always bear your memory in my heart, just as I shall always remember our time of love together. If troubles surround me, all I needs do is recall your sweet face and brave deeds, and my world brightens. Ours was a love which could not be. Forgive my weakness, I implore. Understand my father’s ill-advised ire. Think of me fondly, with tenderness and affection, now and then as you rise to fortune. As for me, I shall make the best of what sad and cruel fate metes out. I pray for your happiness and safety always, and send my dearest of thoughts with you, My Champion.
“Always, Evaleigh.”
These words, soft as they were, did nothing to dilute the bitterness in Gord’s heart; in fact, he reacted in quite the opposite way, and he found himself thinking of Evaleigh as a liar and a bitch as he roughly thrust the scroll back into the box and picked up the parcel of silk. In its folds was the little necklace of silver links with the milky amulet depending from them-Evaleigh’s dearest possession, the dweomered pendant given her by her elven great-great-grandmother.
This gift had an entirely different effect on Gord from the way he had felt just after reading the scroll. His attitude toward Evaleigh softening with every passing heartbeat, he fastened the chain around his neck and tucked the amulet under the stiff leather and padding of his doublet. Then, instead of hurling the missive she had written to him away in a crumpled ball, as he had originally thought to do, Gord flattened it and tucked it into the small inner pocket of this same garment. After placing the silver box within a saddlebag, he spurred his stallion so as to get even with Gellor’s mount, trying his best to put Evaleigh out of his mind for the moment-he had much to learn from his traveling companion, and it was high time to start doing just that!
Gord’s saturnine expression and lugubrious spirits were soon uplifted by Gellor’s tale. He admitted to Gord that while he was indeed a member of Stoink’s guild of thieves, and a well-respected member of that and other bandit communities as well, he had other identities. Yes, Gellor admitted, he did on occasion serve Archbold as an agent and spy; however, his liege was not the King of Nyrond by any means, but rather his cousin, Belissica, Her Noble Brilliancy, Sovereign Countess of Urnst. In fact, Gellor said laughingly, he even performed favors for his more distant cousin, Karll, Most Lordly Grace of Duchy Urnst!
All of this left Gord speechless. Gellor observed his dumbfounded visage, roared with mirth, winked his newly grown eye, and laughed still more at the perturbed reaction this gesture got from his companion.
“I must begin where we parted company,” said Gellor as his chuckling subsided and he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, “and then you will understand better what has transpired.” The thief and noble then began a tale that enthralled Gord so thoroughly that he failed to notice that Gellor was leading the way away from Knurl toward the ferry to the west bank of the Harp River.
He related how the sovereigns of Nyrond and other allied and friendly states spent much in human and monetary resources to be apprised of the plots and politics of their unfriendly and hostile neighbors. The Bandit Kingdoms, as these sovereigns called the lands of the Free Lords, were of particular interest-but then no more so than the doings of the Hierarchs of the Horned Society, the dealings of Tenh and the Theocrat of the Pale, Aerdian schemes (whether those of the Overking or the Malachite Throne of Rauxes), and so forth.
Although Evaleigh’s capture and the subsequent ransom demand from Boss Dhaelhy were not great matters as far as statecraft went, King Archbold desired intelligence on what followed these events, for he suspected that his vassal, Count Dunstan of Blemu, was overweening in ambition. The question was: Would the count send forth to Stoink the ransom required for his daughter’s return? The sum being demanded was so great as to pauperize the count, or so it was thought, and it was well known that he was no doting parent.
If the ransom was not paid, Archbold’s reasoning went, then the king’s suspicions about Dunstan would be allayed; this would mean that he did not have the resources to bring about his daughter’s release, or else he did not possess the desire to see her freed. In either event, this was not the sort of behavior that would engender respect for the count from other heads of state-and such respect was a necessary component of any plan the count might have to assert the sovereignty of his small domain. But if the ransom was handed over to Boss Dhaelhy, the king would do well to heed the warnings he had received about the count’s hubris.
“Then you came along and spoiled things!” Gellor said as they came to the vessel moored beside the river bank. “Let us get aboard this ferry, and I’ll continue my tale.”
“Yes, let us,” urged Gord, now caught up in the story and left in suspense as to how he had intervened in the plots and machinations of crowned heads.
“The problem was, everyone was watching for a company of the count’s men escorting the gold for his daughter’s ransom,” Gellor resumed, skirting the issue of how Gord disrupted any scheme but that of Boss Dhaelhy. Gord urged him to get on to that point, but Gellor simply smiled and continued the line of discourse he had begun.
He explained how the Boss of Stoink, several other interested parties of that ilk, Gellor himself-and even Evaleigh!-had spies watching for ransom-carriers from Blemu. The captive girl, it seemed, had used her charm, and possibly a bit of her magic, to suborn at least two of Lord Mayor Dhaelhy’s hirelings or servants. For the sake of both her peace of mind and her physical safety, she, more than anyone else, wished to know news of her impending rescue.
By the time Gord had appeared on the scene, her hopes were at their lowest ebb, for time would be up soon, and there had been no news of any force of Count Blemu’s, or even one in his employ, heading for Stoink. Had there been, Evaleigh of course would never have risked life and limb in a perilous escape attempt formulated-or unformulated, as was more accurately the case-by a young thief of uncertain origin and questionable motives! Gord had to grin at that last statement.
“Off this scow now, lad,” said Gellor as the ferry was moored on the opposite bank. “Now we ride cross-country for the Flinties and the burrows of gnomekind.”
“Flinties? Gnomes? What is this talk, Gellor?”
“Do you tire of my story already?” said Gellor with a sly grin. “Are you suddenly more interested in what we must do next ere we are free to pursue a more independent course?”
“Oh, no, good sir!” said Gord, a hint of friendly sarcasm in his tone. “The past for now, the future for later.” So Gellor picked up his original tale as their steeds trotted westward.
“Dunstan is a most clever chap,” Gellor began. “Not as wily as he deems himself, by any stretch of the mind, but clever enough to outwit all those watching for his train bearing a virtual king’s ransom in orbs. The Boss was eager to receive the train, of course, and Evaleigh was anxious to learn it was coming so she could be free-but most of those on the lookout for the caravan desired only to loot it. To thwart this last group of road-watchers, the Count of Blemu made arrangements, and sent messengers accordingly, so that the sum was gathered within the walls of Stoink itself.”
“How could that be?” demanded the wondering listener.
“Oh, it isn’t a new idea, only one which is most uncommon and rarely used,” Gellor replied, nodding contemplatively. “Sums are borrowed and lent between certain dealers in jewels, money changers, bankers, and the like. They have devised a means to transfer large amounts by means of written notes. Naturally, these notes are carefully done, and heavily magicked, but once executed are as good as gold!”
This amazed the young thief, for he had imagined that he knew just about all there was to know about wealth. Gellor then explained to him that such instruments had away of taking on a sort of mystical value themselves, becoming as dear as-or even dearer than-the physical things they represented, be they precious metals, gems, silk, spices, or something else.
On the very day and night that Gord had planned and executed his brash rescue of the lady in durance vile, an agent of. her father’s sending was in Stoink, carrying with him a document calling for transfer of metal equivalent to ten thousand gold orbs from certain persons in the town of the lord mayor. The sum was so vast an amount that it took two days to gather.
“Had you acted but one day later,” Gellor pointed out to Gord, “you would have found the lady Evaleigh gone, bound for her homeland under a heavily armed guard furnished by her former captor, Boss Dhaelhy! If anything, a ransomer must be true to his word, or he shall have but a single go at kidnap and payment, you know, so the boss planned to see the girl delivered to the count’s protection with care and safety.”
At that, Gord had to laugh bitterly…. Some hero he had turned out to be! Evaleigh’s journey home would have been faster, easier, and much safer if he had not invaded the lord mayor’s castle-and, more to the point, he would never have laid eyes on the walls of the count’s dungeon!
Gellor agreed, in response to a wry observation from Gord, that things were not always as they seemed. The news, he went on, was soon buzzing through the bandit capital of Gord’s taking of the girl from under the boss’ nose.
“He was furious,” said Gellor, “both at the insult and the loss of a fortune! No amount of searching turned you up, and several powerful spell-casters were required to finally track down your means of escape. But the same magic-users were then unable to locate you anywhere, and they claimed that powerful dweomers protected you two. There was no ransom paid, of course, for word of Evaleigh’s disappearance reached those gathering the gold, and they quickly returned their thousands to vault and strongroom forthwith. That saved Dunstan his coin, but the fact he had agreed to pay alerted me that something was most certainly amiss. There are means of communication that allow near-instantaneous transmission of speech, but these magical communications must be most secret and protected from the many who would overhear or intercept. It required several days, but eventually I managed to pass on the intelligence, and then I came after you two.”
At this point the two riders came to a lane leading northwest. Gellor steered his mount onto the path, saying, “Now I think it best to give my throat a rest until we partake of some refreshment.” Gord followed his lead, of course, and the pair rode in silence. After a short time, they arrived in a rustic little hamlet. There they supped at a local tavern, while their mounts were fed and watered. An hour later the pair cantered on, still following the dirt road as it wound its way toward the first great tors of the Flinty Hills.
Gellor had not desired to resume his narrative during their meal, because the tale was for Gord’s ears alone. Once out of the hamlet, however, he further dealt with his tracing of Evaleigh and her rescuer. It had not been difficult to determine the goal that was set, but the exact route was the question. Boss Dhaelhy’s minions had searched far and wide, but they missed by days locating the fleeing couple. Gellor had picked up the trail in Midmeadow, using the activity of agents of the bandit lord to put him on the scent, as it were. There was a delay, for he had had to eliminate several of these odious fellows, including the assassin who led them. This forced Gellor to spend further time avoiding those who would track him down for daring to handle so roughly the servants of Stoink, and by the time all that blew over, and Boss Dhaelhy called the whole thing off, more than a week had passed.
There was difficulty finding where Gord and Lady Evaleigh had gone from Womtham, and Gellor had ridden all the way to Innspa before eventually discovering that the two had not journeyed all that distance with the pilgrims. Between such delays as those he had recounted, and pauses for passing various sorts of information to one group or another, Gellor said ruefully that nearly a month was frittered away before he caught up with the trail once again.
The hillmen were quite impressed by Gord’s fighting ability, he said parenthetically, for these wild and independent folk thought bravery and self-defense to be paramount virtues. In any event, Gellor went on, it was no task at all to determine thereafter that Gord and Evaleigh had managed to get to her father’s fief without further mishap. However, careful inquiries in Knurl brought no mention of Gord’s name. All that was known was that the count’s daughter had mysteriously reappeared at Castle Blemu.
Finding what had become of Gord was important to him, but Gellor had to state flatly that there were more important matters to clear up first. Dunstan had been sending a stream of communications to Lexnol, His Valorous Prominence of Ratik. These related to a proposed alliance between the baron and the count, and were to be sealed by nuptials between Baron Ratik’s son, Alain, destined to become the fourth Baron Ratik bearing that name, and the count’s fair daughter, Evaleigh.
At this point Gord grew grim and interjected an oath, but Gellor calmed him sufficiently to continue relating the story before long. He helped the young thief to understand that politics and ambition were the moving forces behind what had transpired. Ratik is a backward place, but not so isolated as not to have its own spies and informants. The baron questioned the count as to the matter of Evaleigh’s kidnap and return, delicately inquiring as to her virginity. In this matter a lie will not do, and so it came to pass that the count had to dower his daughter with much gold for the marriage contract to be completed and the secret alliance forged.
In the course of discovering all this, Gellor had also found out that there was a nameless prisoner in the dungeon of Castle Blemu. With this knowledge, Gellor assumed the identity of General Nalbon of the House of Gellor, and Gord knew the rest. The alliance between the Ratikkan ruling dynasty and Dunstan was not in itself undesirable. The King of Nyrond was indeed pleased to have one of his vassals related to a potentially active enemy of Aerdy-so long as that vassal was still loyal to Archbold III.