Turana found herself in a workshop dusty with disuse. Tables and benches were spread about with expensive looking leather working and even some steel working instruments. On one of the tables were rolls of parchment. Walking over she unrolled one such roll and saw the drawings for some sort of wrist mounted dart gun. The truth of Tusul’s claims surrounded her. Another of the parchments showed the construction of hardened leather armor that could be worn under one’s clothes. One of the tables had a sturdy vambrace with some sort of contraption attached.
“What is this?” Turana picked it up and began inspecting it.
“Careful. It’s still loaded.” Tusul took it and slipped it on his arm. Fastening the latches he bent his wrist back and clenched his fist. There was a soft click and an eight inch blade protruded below his hand.
“So you just pretend to be a cobbler. I can see how that would be a skillset used in this...” Turana trailed off as she waved at the room.
“Well yes but I'm a good cobbler too. I'm just better at this.”
“Did you ever kill anyone?” Turana crossed her arms as if afraid handing them loosely might set off another contraption.
“No.”
“But the things you make kill people.” Turana fixed Tusul with a look that had always unnerved him.
“Yes but the Asgare only kills bad people. People that hurt or kill others. He never kills innocent people.” She scowled in a way that made him realize how absurd what he had just said was.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You really are an atrocious tailor.”
“I... What? What do you mean?” Tusul was thrown off by her announcement.
“I can see the stitches from all the way over here. It is cloth not leather. And the seams are in the wrong spots. They are more likely to tear if you put them here.” Turana was stepped past Tusul and was criticizing a prototype of the dual sided arrow catching cloak that hung on a peg behind him. He stood with his mouth hanging agape until she turned and caught him.
“But you're not mad about me not telling you about your brother?” Tusul was thoroughly confused by his wife's actions.
“I always knew that you could be more than a cobbler. You make the best shoes in town and don’t tell anyone about it. You could have been the best cobbler in town if you wanted but you were content with what you had. At first I wanted to convince you to advertise for more business but then I had a chance to compare one of your shoes with another cobbler’s. Your style was totally different but I didn’t think much of it until I was sewing for a soldier and saw his leather armor. I recognized the stitches. At first I thought that you were an armorer but it didn’t make sense so I waited. As for my brother, He passed through town a year ago and his wife came and visited me. He didn’t want to risk being seen and recognized with me but no one would know her. He is living in the midlands and has three children. She told me about the Asgare but didn’t mention your involvement. I'm glad you finally told me.” During this revelation Tusul had sunk into a seat. He had long known his wife to be intelligent but the extent of it was shocking. It had been one of the reason he had chosen to reveal his secret.
Tusul vowed never again to keep a secret from Turana. After they had finished their revelations he began the preparations for starting the old trade up again. First was the bells that had to be hung on the door. He could hear anyone entering the shop and be down the ladder in time to make it look like he had just been using the garderobe. Turana had some ideas for improving the cloak. The candle had burned down to a stub before they returned downstairs.
Brounn arrived a short time later to pick up the repaired “shoe”. He was mildly astonished to see both the inhabitants of the shop so happy and was even more so when it was Turana who gave him the sack containing the “accessories”. Shaking his head as he left he noticed that since last night Tusul had picked up a lot more shoes to repair.
Brounn made his way back to the ale house with the items and deposited them in the back room. Inside the sack was an assortment of items. The first to be removed was a pair of sturdy boots as fine in workmanship as any he had seen but plain enough to escape attention. The knife blade was hidden like usual but an improvement had been made. A knife blade also extended from the heel as well as the toe. Surprisingly neither blade impeded the foot's natural flex.
A fine set of vambraces was next. Slipping one on he flipped his wrist back and smiled at the blade that had appeared. It was when taking it off that he flexed the wrist the other way and found a four inch dart half buried in the floor a mere inch from his foot. Deciding that the rest of the contraptions were more dangerous than he wanted to play with Brounn deposited the items in a hidden compartment in the wall.
He began itemizing a list of all the people he had contacted so far. Almost all of them had responded quite well once they had received his hints about the Asgare’s return. Hopefully the rest would respond equally well. Already the information was starting to flow. A few drops at a time but rather quickly concerning the short notice. It had only been a week since Urake’s arrival and he already knew that the chancellor's men in the area were on the lookout for an individual matching Skeln’s description. A few of the people that frequented his establishment were tasked with keeping an eye out on the street corners where they conducted their business of begging. The asked no questions and Brounn volunteered no answers. They only knew that whoever found the blond blue eyed individual would be well rewarded. This had paid off when one recalled seeing the individual in question heading south out of town
One who had performed the tasks of a courier a decade and a half ago came to Brounn when he sobered enough to notice that he had been served water for who knows how long. Glad that the sobered person was still sharp enough to pick up a hint Brounn reinstated the man in his old job after extracting a promise to avoid the alehouses unless he had contacts there worth reacquainting. The man had been more than happy to comply and had left days ago on his errand. The courier would be returning in a day or two and would carry the sack south with him on the next trip.
Chapter Eleven
Draceros had been traveling for over a week going south taking the lesser traveled roads along the way. There was always the risk of running across bandits but he was sure that he didn’t present a wealthy enough image to warrant being robbed. Even if an especially impoverished bandit did try to hold him up there was little to nothing of value to steal. An old wooden gripped kitchen knife, a woolen blanket with a few dry pieces of bread and a homemade hunting bow with poorly crafted wooden tipped projectiles would have been worthless in the sight most.
Still Draceros tried to keep company with any other travelers that happened to be on the same route as he. The name he shared was Cero and a brief tale of woe and hardship should his companions ask his reasons for traveling alone. Usually the listeners acquired a glassy eyed expression after the first few sentences and only politely nodded until he was finished. After that they usually left him alone. One kind traveler had shared a few scraps of food but for the most part Draceros was ignored. He could have cared less in fact being left alone with his thoughts was far preferred.
Today he had found himself alone after a fork in the road parted his path and his erstwhile companion’s. This road had kept the mountains in sight and was usually in some sort of forest or farm lands. The last day the mountains had given way to the badlands and a few days past had seen a larger river bridged. A larger city known as the Forks should be somewhere to the west or so he thought. Soon he was going to make the westward turn and from thence he hoped to disappear into the city.
He had avoided going the same route as his companions because he wanted to enter the city without being seen by anyone who could identify him. The risk of being followed was still a very real risk. Everyone who asked his destination was told about a fictitious relative who dwelt just north of the Draeld. Thusly a vague explanation was given any who might be asked in the future about his travel plans.
The sun had
climbed high in the blue dome when a trio of gruff looking men joined the main road and fell into step with Draceros. After demanding a name and receiving the usual they remained silent enough for the boy’s liking. And so the rest of the day passed without event. The evening was spent in a small town at a fork in the trail. Without coin to spare Cero didn’t join the men in the inn but found a corner of the stable and covered himself in fresh straw. Sleep in this relatively comfortable state came quickly.
It was dark when a sound awakened the boy from his slumbers. At first thinking it a stable hand Cero remained as silent as a mouse in the hopes of escaping notice. The conversation he overheard however had nothing to do with mucking out stalls.
The voice of the one who had asked his name earlier was joined by three others. Two of the others identified themselves as having been the first one’s traveling companions. The fourth was an individual from the village. The conversation that was overheard was proving of intense interest to the silent eavesdropper.
They were talking about a fugitive by the name of Skeln who had a shock of blond hair and blue eyes and was supposed to be traveling with an old beggar. This fugitive bore a striking resemblance to the lad they had met on the road earlier who went by the name Cero despite the absence of the expected companion. The fourth individual asked where this person was supposed to be staying the night and got no definitive answer to Cero’s relief. They then laid out a plan to keep an eye out in the morning and then they could further question the individual. It was most likely that this suspicious individual would make west for the Forks so a guard would be placed on that avenue of escape. Cero resolved that when morning arrived he would not be available to answer questions.
Waiting until he heard all four men leave Draceros seized his opportunity to make good his escape. The moons only had one up and at that only a sliver visible making for a dark night. Using this to his advantage Cero crept down abandoned roads out of the village. Determined not to make the expected westward turn he headed south again. There would be time enough to cut over and follow the river north to the Forks. He managed to leave the town without being noticed or so he thought and was soon traveling as fast as the night would allow.
When morning dawned hours later Cero heard a baying sound drifting on the silent morning air. A glance behind from the top of a knoll terrified the boy. Behind him a few miles mere specks against the landscape was a small group of men and the hounds they had on leash.
Reeling at this discovery Draceros stumbled onward for a minute until he could think clearly. He could hide his trail but he couldn’t hide his smell. These beasts would track him through hill and dale relentlessly once they had his scent. It looked like they did have the scent or so it had sounded by the baying. There were no streams to be found in this stretch of land that might throw the dogs off so onward the lad went. Fear lent an added speed to his flight.
Running where he could and keeping a low profile over the hills kept the strangers from gaining at first but they soon picked up the pace. Surprisingly the week of travel and years of mountain hiking had given Draceros an unusual endurance and a couple hours had passed before the strain began to tell. Still the hounds could be heard periodically with their blood curdling howls.
He considered leaving the road but the brush that covered the landscape now would only slow both him and his pursuers down without giving an advantage. He did squeeze through a hedge like briar section on one side before returning to the road after the briar patch had subsided. He hoped that the hounds would cause the men to follow the prickly path forcing them to lose time.
The sun was getting higher and the men nearer. Several more tricks were invented to throw or delay the pursuers. A few seemed to work a little but after one Draceros realized that he had actually lost time. He now jogged along without trying any tricks but still they closed on him. Now the dogs maintained a constant chorus of excited noise that told the boy roughly how far he was ahead. When they were only a little ways behind him he back tracked on the trail and ducked into the brush on the downwind side of the trail just as they rounded the corner. He watched as five men and an equal number of hounds galloped past looking dusty and tired. As soon as they had rounded the next corner he returned to the road and ran back up the trail as fast as he could. He hoped that they would search down the trail and be stymied by the sudden loss.
This deception seemed to work for a time. It was closing on evening when he next heard the hounds back on the trail. Now he abandoned the road leaping from boulder to boulder heading due south. The sliver moon and the full moon were already rising this evening so it took a time for dusk to form fully. The hounds relentlessly picked up the new trail and closed in.
The trackers were not to be denied their target any longer and were making short work of Draceros’ lead. Deceived by a shadow, sure footing shifted and sent the fleeing lad tumbling headlong. Suddenly the hounds were all around baying their loudest. Oddly the dogs contented themselves with barking and slinking around on the outside of a ten foot perimeter. Cero expected to be torn to shreds before the men appeared. When they did show up the boy was still unharmed much to their surprise. Apparently they had been despairing of ever catching up and had loosed the hounds in a last ditch effort to collect on the dead portion of the bounty. The men joined the hounds in the circle and caught their breath for a few minutes before making any effort at apprehending Cero.
Draceros had his knife on hand and tried to scare the men off. They only seemed to think this display humorous. He found out why when the first to catch his breath disarmed Cero effortlessly. His hands were tied behind his back and there was a brief argument about tying his feet. The logic of making the boy carry his own weight won out in the end.
The sun had fully set when they began the return trip. Full night was soon upon them and a single moon didn’t shed enough light to travel by. Many miles had been covered since they had started that morning and Cero’s last cross country flight had placed them a fair distance from any roads so they shortly decided to spend the night. For some reason these people were afraid to spend the night in these parts. After securing Cero to a scrubby tree they set about gathering a large supply of firewood and stoking a bonfire in the center of the clearing they had chosen for the night.
Cero’s bonds were too tight to escape from so he was forced to observe the proceedings helplessly. He didn’t try convincing anyone that he was not who they were looking for. That would have been futile no matter the truth of it. The fire was built and the five men settled in for the night. Cero was left tied to his tree and no one did more than check to make sure he was present from time to time. Four slept and the fifth kept watch over their captive and the dark. He seemed more worried about the dark than the captive inexplicably. The man paced around the fire peering suspiciously at any imagined sound.
Cero wasn’t in any position that allowed sleep either physically with his bonds or mentally with dread or the odd light headed sensation. The torturous hours passed slowly until Cero found that a jagged rock was being pressed into the side of his leg. At first he tried to find a different position. Then he thought he had torn his pants on the offending stone. That gave him an idea. It took a little slow maneuvering and a couple suspicious glances from the pacing sentry before Cero had managed to work his ankle bonds over the rock. Slowly rubbing the rope on the rock Cero occupied himself whenever the sentry wasn’t looking. After what seemed like an hour the rope suddenly loosened around his ankles.
Next Cero began trying to move the rock up to his hands. Unfortunately the stone was obstinate and was most difficult to move without arousing too much unwanted attention. Eventually however it got to his hands. The rope that bound him to the tree was the only one that Cero was able to get the jagged edge to. A couple more hours may have passed before the rope was frayed nearly through.
The watcher started like he had heard a dragon when one of the hounds whined into the night. The tracker joined the dog and stared as hard as
he could at the dim shadowy landscape cast in the glow of the fire. A moment later and all the dogs were awake. When the hounds began barking the four sleepers jerked awake. Seemingly forgetting about their captive they fearfully consulted amongst themselves. One of the dogs howled and rushed into the dark. A yelp was followed by silence as the remaining hounds and humans waited to find out what had befallen the animal.
Cero almost didn’t believe he had seen anything when a shadow moved. For a moment he looked to see what had cast the shadow. Realizing that the shadow itself was the source left him staring at the apparition. It almost looked human accept it sometimes would shiver like a reflection in disturbed water and disappear. The men drew what weapons they had and faced the being.
The remaining hounds were cowering behind their masters who were about to back into the fire. Cero held his breath watching the creature. The trackers ordered their dogs to attack and three obediently lunged forward. The fourth fled the opposite direction. The three attacking hounds lunged into the specter only to pass through harmlessly. The shadow swirled on the hounds and enveloped them in a black mist. There was a good deal of snarling and yelping before the shadow reformed over the dead corpses.
At this point the trackers gave over to panic. They did however manage to get to the other side of the fire before half a dozen more shadows appeared out of thin air. Surrounded on all sides the men stood at each other’s back and held their weapons with shaking hands. When one of the shadows drew close a man swung at it with his sword. The weapon did no more damage than the hounds had. The shadow simply quivered like smoke when struck. A moment later all the shadows converged on the hapless men. When they had finished their work the shadows turned towards Cero where he lay helplessly. Oddly they drew no closer than the hounds had.