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Authors: James Wolf

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BOOK: The Grim Wanderer
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Taem savoured every mouthful of this tremendous claypot chicken. It tasted like the chicken and the rice had been cooked on a barbecue, and then it had all been mixed together with a black cooking sauce to set off the char-grilled taste.

‘Uuumm, this be good!’ Forgrun scooped into one of the clay pots, and piled another heap of chicken rice onto his plate.

Taem and the Rhungar ate like beasts, and even Baek was delving in. Forgrun could not get enough of this Dolami style of food that he had never tried before, and went back for thirds, digging deep into the big clay pots with the serving spoon.

Once the table was cleared, Logan pulled out a map-chart so he could outline their journey to the Nakramilis.

‘We will pass through The Gate,’ Logan showed them on the map, ‘heading east. Once we have cleared the mountains, we will start making in a northerly direction. Any more than that, we cannot plan for.’

Taem saw how the map was little more than blank canvas east of the Dredgen, in the Lost Realms.

As the companions were examining the map, Bessie came into the Sceptre Room and said, ‘A letter has arrived for Logan.’

As Bessie gave Logan the letter, and he prised open the wax seal, everyone could see it was sealed with the Chalice Sigil of Grantle.

Logan read the letter, and said to his eager audience, ‘My presence is requested by the Lord of Dolam, to meet with him tomorrow afternoon, at The Rock.’

The younger warriors looked to each other with surprise and intrigue at this new development.

‘Requested, nay
commanded
?’ Forgrun raised his eyebrows.

‘Only a few would be requested by a king,’ Baek whispered.

‘No, no,’ Hirandar muttered. ‘This is not very good; not very good indeed! A quiet, uneventful stay in Dolam was what was required. It seems I underestimated the lingering legend of the Grim Wanderer, and there is the question of how they found the Sceptre Room?’

Taem could see that troubled the Wizard as much as anything else. It meant someone had been following the companions.

‘I could just not go,’ Logan muttered.

‘No,’ Hirandar shook her head, ‘that would not be prudent, or wise. Balthus is considered a friend. Knowing him, he would be put out by a refusal of an invitation to a meeting of old comrades in arms.
If that’s all it is
,’ Hirandar added darkly.

‘Balthus and I fought side by side in many battles,’ Logan said defensively – Taem thought it sounded like Hirandar had re-ignited an old argument.

‘Granted,’ Logan said, ‘there are some aspects of his character I do not like, but you
cannot
question his courage.’

‘Yes, okay,’ Hirandar spread her hands wide. ‘Visit the Lord of Dolam out of courtesy, but give nothing away of our purpose, or even direction.’

Logan nodded.

‘I have business to be getting on with,’ Hirandar rose out of her chair, ‘so I will bid you all goodnight.’ The Wizard reached for her hat and staff.

‘I will come with you,’ Logan stood. ‘Dolam is no place for an old woman to be out in the streets at night.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’ Hirandar tossed her hat in the air so it flipped over and landed on top of her head. ‘I can more than look after myself, and your fame will not aid me in my tasks this night. Stay here and rest with the others.’

‘My company may not be necessary, old friend,’ Logan pulled his cloak around his shoulders, ‘but you know I can evade being seen – use the shadows and the darkness to conceal myself. So even if someone recognises Hirandar Firefist they will not see her oldest companion.’

Hirandar smiled at Logan’s determination to go with her. Hirandar knew she was fortunate indeed to have such a loyal friend. And, Hirandar did admit to herself, she could be somewhat careless when her thoughts were elsewhere, so she nodded her agreement.

As the two old friends made to leave, Hirandar said to the three junior warriors, ‘Go to the common room if you like, but I ask you not to leave the Inn.’

‘And,’ Hirandar looked at Forgrun, ‘don’t go trying to impress anyone with tales of your adventures and the quest to come.’

‘Goodnight,’ Logan said, ‘and be watchful. Remember Taem,’ Logan followed Hirandar out of the Sceptre room. ‘Always carry yourself well.’

‘Yes, Master,’ Taem bowed his head. He caught the gleam in his Master’s eyes, and he knew Logan was telling him to keep his blade secret.

Chapter 14 – Whispers of Legend

 

 

Baek entered The Jester’s common room, but there were no free tables, so he went and stood at the bar. As it was evening the place was heaving. The constant murmur of adventurers sharing stories was thick in the air. It made Baek realise just how beneficial it was for The Network to have a Watcher running this place – so long as that Watcher knew how to sift through fables, to the snippets of real news. Baek had left Taem practicing his blade-work in the Sceptre Room, and Forgrun had gone to the stables with a carrot for Krun-Smiter.

‘What you doing here, boy?’ A hard-faced adventurer swaggered over to Baek. He was bald, with a beard, broad across the shoulders and with a big belly. This adventurer was wearing leather wrist wraps and had a leather waistcoat lined with knives. He was followed over by a trio of similarly dressed men, and they all had swords or axes on their belts.

‘Waiting for friends,’ Baek shuffled away from the four men.

‘Look at his face, Norgar,’ a long haired adventurer said to the bald man. ‘Ain’t it funny?’

‘Yeah,’ said a tall man with a Dolami moustache, ‘Flin’s right! He’s got slit eyes!’ The adventurer pointed a stubby finger at Baek’s eyes. Baek stepped back.

‘Looks more like a woman to me, Kanar!’ Norgar snarled.

‘Don’t know whether to kiss her or punch her,’ Kanar sneered, as the four adventurers moved to surround Baek.

‘Hey!’ Norgar said. ‘He’s one of them Aborle! Maliven scum!’

‘Descended from those Maliven traitors?’ Flin snarled. ‘We should give him a good hiding!’

‘Looks like that pretty face needs a beating!’ Norgar grimaced.

A space cleared around Baek and the four adventurers. The Aborle placed a hand on his broadsword, as the adventures encircled him with mean intent.

‘Careful, Norgar!’ Flin said mockingly. ‘The little runt’s armed!’

By now the entire common room had stopped talking to watch, and Baek saw one of the serving girls run off to fetch Bessie. The tavern guards were nowhere to be seen.

‘This ain’t no place for a little girl–’ Norgar gasped, as Baek jabbed him in the throat with a fingertip thrust. Norgar dropped to his knees, clutching his throat, as Baek kneed Kanar in the groin. The Aborle punched Flin across the jaw, sending a tooth flying. The fourth adventurer swung a hook punch into Baek’s stomach, causing the Aborle to bend double.

‘Grab him, Louse!’ Flin spat out blood.

‘I’ve got him!’ Louse seized Baek’s arms, and yanked them behind his back.

‘Hold that Maliven bitch!’ Norgar got back up to his feet.

Baek brought both his legs up, as Louse held him, and kicked both feet out into Kanar’s chest. Kanar went flying. Baek threw his head back, smacking Louse in the face.

‘You little whelp!’ Norgar slapped Baek across the face.

Baek’s head tilted over, in a daze, as Louse held him tight.

‘We’re gonna teach you a lesson,’ Kanar breathed out deeply, still clutching his groin, as he struggled to stand up straight.

‘Take this you freak!’ Flin recoiled his arm, ready to punch Baek in the gut.

‘Anyone touch ye Aborle do
die
!’ Forgrun growled.

Everyone in the common room turned to the inn’s entrance, and saw a menacing Rhungar standing there, both his giant hands gripping either side of the doorframe. Forgrun was only five foot tall, but he was massive even for a Rhungar. He filled that doorway with his hulking presence.

‘Go back to your cave, Rhungar!’ Norgar sneered.

‘Raaah!’ Forgrun launched himself into the inn, charging at Norgar and Kanar. Forgrun smashed into Norgar with his shoulder, folding him in two. Forgrun lifted Norgar off the floor and drove him forward, hurling him over the bar. There was a crash as Norgar smashed into the shelves behind. One of the Rhungar’s massive hands latched onto Kanar, as the other giant fist pummelled the adventurer three times before Forgrun tossed the man through the air to crash through a table. Forgrun swung a mighty punch at Flin, knocking him out cold. Louse let go of Baek and leapt on Forgrun, punching the Rhungar in the back of the head.

Forgrun turned to glare at Louse, with rage in his eyes. Louse recoiled in fear and stepped backwards. Forgrun leapt forward and grabbed Louse round the neck with both hands. The Rhungar lifted the big adventurer straight up, raising Louse’s head up towards the balcony, with his feet hovering helplessly above the floorboards.

At this display of sheer strength, there were gasps from around the common room.

Louse looked down in terror, meeting Forgrun’s wild eyes.

‘Yaaaah!’ Forgrun bellowed, as he ran and hurled Louse through the air to smash through yet another table. Forgrun turned, snorting wildly, and went back to the bar. All eyes in the common room were on the enormous Rhungar. Even everyone on the first floor balcony was leaning over to watch the spectacle. Forgrun reached over the bar, snatched up Norgar and dragged him back over – as easily as if he were picking up a small child, not a large man. The thug looked down at the Rhungar with dread.

Norgar smacked Forgrun in the nose, causing it to bleed. The Rhungar did not flinch.

‘I dare yhee ter do that again,’ Forgrun smiled.

Norgar punched Forgrun in the face once more. The Rhungar’s nose cracked, and blood flowed down into his russet beard. Forgrun laughed.

Forgrun turned Norgar off his feet, spinning the big man over and smashing him through the bar, snapping a section of it in two. The whole common room gasped.

Kanar ran at Forgrun and threw a haymaker punch. Forgrun grabbed Kanar’s fist in his giant palm, stopping the punch dead. Kanar tried to fight against the Rhungar, tried to pull his fist back, but could not move.

‘Light help me!’ Kanar whimpered, as Forgrun grabbed him by the shoulders.

The Rhungar ran the man to the inn’s front door and hurled him, flying, through the open doorway. Forgrun dusted off his hands, and walked back to where Baek lay on the floor. The whole common room watched in silence.

‘Yhee alright, friend,’ Forgrun extended his hand.

‘I had it under control,’ Baek gasped, as he grabbed the Rhungar’s wrist. Forgrun lifted Baek onto his feet using just one arm.

‘Thank you,’ Baek said, and Forgrun grinned.

A few people in the common room started clapping, and everyone soon joined in, giving the Rhungar a standing ovation. Forgrun made a grand bow, as people in the common room started cheering, and came up to thank him for getting rid of those thugs.

‘You threw them around like ragdolls!’ Baek slapped his Rhungar friend on the shoulder.

‘Aye,’ Forgrun grinned, ‘Master Logan’s trainin’ do actually make yhee stronger.’

‘Two tankards o’ thy finest, please me lady,’ Forgrun said to the serving girl, as he leant against part of the bar he had not destroyed, ‘an half glass o’ finest wine fer me Aborle friend.’

‘Look out!’ Baek cried, as Louse ran at Forgrun with a dagger.

Forgrun spun, snatched Louse’s wrist with one hand, and grabbed his throat with the other.

‘O, ye should nay ‘ave do that!’ Forgrun said menacingly, as Louse struggled to stab him, but the Rhungar held him with ease. Louse used his free hand to punch Forgrun in the face. Forgrun just shook his head in disgust. He clutched Louse’s knife hand with both his huge hands, and twisted forcibly, snapping Louse’s wrist.

‘Aaaagh!’ Louse screamed as he dropped the knife.

Forgrun swung his great fist into Louse’s jaw, and the thug collapsed in a limp heap. Forgrun shrugged, and took a tankard from the gawping serving girl.

‘What in the whole of Hathlore has happened here?’ Bessie came running into the common room, with her two tavern guards close behind.

‘Little bit o’ trouble,’ Forgrun raised his tankard and took a big swig, ‘but I do sort it.’

Bessie looked at the unconscious men sprawled across her floor, and then at the broken tables and bar. She saw the way everyone in the silent common room was looking at Forgrun in awe, and she smiled at the Rhungar.

‘With the company you keep,’ Bessie shook her head, ‘it doesn’t surprise me that you taught these thugs a lesson.’

‘Aye,’ Forgrun raised his tankard, and downed the remainder his first beer, before picking up his second.

‘Take those men to The Watch,’ Bessie said to her tavern guards. ‘But search their pockets first – I need coin to cover all this damage.’

Taem entered the common room and saw all the broken tables.

‘Did I miss something?’ Taem came over to Baek. ‘What’s that red mark on your face? And why is Forgrun’s nose bleeding?’

‘It was nothing that Forgrun couldn’t handle,’ Baek smiled, as he told Taem what had happened.

‘There be seats o’er here,’ Forgrun called to his friends. The Rhungar had been beckoned to join a group of adventurers sitting around a table set back in one of the corners.

As Taem and Baek went over to the table, a heavy-set man with a shaven head stood up.

‘My name is Argan,’ he shook Taem’s hand cordially.

Argan was six foot tall, and must have weighed at least fifteen stone – most of it muscle. He had the Beacon scar seared black into his cheek. Taem noticed Argan’s limp as he went to shake Baek’s hand.

‘Nargs,’ Argan said to Baek, as he saw the Aborle looking at the scars on his arm and his face. ‘That filth is hard to kill. Still, these old battle badges,’ Argan pointed to the ridged scar that ran down his forearm, ‘are always a good talking point with the ladies!’

‘And how did you get that scar?’ Baek pointed to the black Beacon scar on Argan’s right cheek.

Forgrun growled at Baek, and Taem tried to catch the Aborle’s eye. Taem knew it was the mark of the Beacon, seared into the right cheek of every soldier of the Border Legion.

Argan stared at Baek. The Borderers had a ferocious reputation, and their honour was a serious matter. They already believed the soft Southlanders did not understand or appreciate the heroic work they did.

‘I’ll let that go, Aborle,’ Argan said eventually, ‘but I wouldn’t ask another Borderer that, if I were you. This scar is the mark of The Legion, a beacon atop a tower, seared into my flesh by the Raven’s Fire. It is a mark of honour to us Sarcaedians that pass the test, a reminder of our oath to guard The Border.’

Baek glanced at Taem and Forgrun, realising he had said something wrong.

‘Forgive my intrusion,’ Baek said, ‘but you are the first Borderer I’ve ever met, and I have great respect for The Legion.’ The Aborle put his hand on his heart and dropped his head.

Argan relaxed back into his chair, ‘Well you don’t often find us so far from the Shadowborder. But I’ve given twenty years service to The Legion, and now I’ve come to Dolam for one last adventure, before I settle down – though I will always answer The Call of the Border, if the ravens return.’

‘I would like to see the Borderlands,’ Baek murmured, to which Argan nodded his approval.

‘I am Lockfor,’ said the other man at the table. Taem thought this slight man seemed as if he were hiding something. Lockfor had a shifty gaze that darted all over the common room, and he kept his black cloak clutched tight around him.

‘I’m from Marnion,’ Lockfor said.

‘A wizard?’ Baek asked.

‘I know a little of the magical arts,’ Lockfor smiled.

Taem could not trust that smile.

‘I be Rani,’ said one of the Rhungars.

‘An’ I be Braknar,’ said the other Rhungar.

‘We both do be o’ clan Tsun Cloud,’ Rani said. ‘An’ do come from ye southern citadel o’ Ramduen.’

Unusually for a Rhungar, Rani was fair haired and fair bearded, but Braknar’s beard was a more common brown. Taem could see Braknar, although giving away a foot in height, was far bulkier and heavier than Argan. He almost matched Forgrun for size. Both of these Tsun Cloud Rhungars wore bright clothes of fiery orange and shining silver. Taem could not believe a clan would choose to wear such a discord of colour.

After Taem and Baek joined the table, talk soon turned to the great news of the day, the same news that was being discussed in every tavern of the city.

‘It’s true you know,’ Argan said softly. ‘I was there at Cragmir, fighting in The Legion, thirteen year ago. Dark times they were. Has any of you been to Cragmir?’

The six others at the table all shook their heads.

‘Well,’ Argan said, ‘Cragmir is a city built into a mountain. It has four tiers, each one accessible from the level beneath, and each one heavily defendable. If the lower tier is overrun, we Borderers retreat to make a stand at the gates to the higher level. Not in a hundred years had even the first tier been breached, but thirteen year ago a vast army of Nargs laid siege to Cragmir. For nights on end battle raged along the outer battlements. Every night the Nargs would come and try to scale the high walls, skulking forward with the darkness, and every night we Borderers fought them off. It was carnage, the most desperate fighting I’ve ever seen. Soon, even we trained men of the Legion began to lose heart, but one man inspired us to keep fighting.’

Taem could see the veneration in Argan’s eyes.

BOOK: The Grim Wanderer
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