City in the Sky (16 page)

Erik took the man's hand and returned the handshake. “You're royal troops?” he asked, surprised.

Hiakhan nodded. “The grain's being purchased for the royal granaries,” he admitted. “The last harvest was terrible, and the King had to open the war reserves to make certain there was enough food to go around. Now the merchants are screaming at the cost of replenishing the reserves,” he added bitterly. “I think they'd have rather we'd let the people starve than make them pay the bill for replenishing the reserves.”

“They may not have thought it through that far,” Erik told him with a throwaway gesture. “Or maybe they think that 'war reserves' should only be built up when war is expected,” he added with a grin.

The Ellian officer shrugged. “War is rarely expected,” he grunted. “And even when it isn’t, the reserves are also used for things like feeding the people when the harvests fail.”

“True,” Erik admitted, glancing across at the grunting men unloading the cargo. “We're just here to make sure nobody makes off with a wagon or three of grain, though.”

Hiakhan gave a grin of his own. “They'd have to make it by both of our men, and yours don't seem too bad for a bunch of little boys.”

Erik gave the man a cautioning glance. “I wouldn't let them hear that, if I were you,” he said quietly. “They may not like it.”

The officer raised his hands defensively. “No insult intended,
Sergeant
,” he said, his voice adding a slight edge to the last word.

“None taken,” Erik said, his voice slipping a notch. “I'll go make sure my 'little boys' prevent anyone slipping by yours,” he finished, turning away from the officer.

Brane arrived in Yun strapped-in behind a courier flyer on a smallish brown dragon. While smallish, the brown was still bigger than a green, and could manage to carry two men with ease.

He slid off the dragon clumsily. While he'd flown dragonback before, he hadn't done so in quite a while and he lacked the calluses to prevent saddle sores. He winced as he landed, and surveyed the dragon yard. There was no one there to meet him, but that wasn't a surprise.

“Thanks for the lift, Skyborne,” Brane said to the young flyer who was dismounting with the bags of messages. The Skyborne, he noticed enviously, had no problems dismounting the beast.

“Not a worry, sir,” the youth replied. “That's why they use browns for this duty.”

Brane nodded his farewell to the flyer and walked out of the yard. While he knew where the Red Dragon headquarters in Yun were, it would be bad tradecraft for him to head right there.

Besides, he didn't need to. Perhaps a minute had passed after he'd left the yard before a voice spoke from behind his shoulder.

“Welcome to Yun, Captain Brane,” it said to him. “We have located the ship as you requested, and have been watching it. Would you care to explain why?”

From the sound of the voice, Captain Delk, the Yun commander, had come personally. Brane was senior to the man, but they fell into different chains of command – different nations, to be exact.

“There's a man aboard the ship who was responsible for the death of a Red Dragon,” Brane said softly, knowing without even looking that Delk was close enough to hear what he said.

“I see,” Delk replied. “Kill authorization?”

“Mine,” Brane said simply. “It is policy,” he added.

“Indeed,” was all Delk said.

“Do you have the resources?” Brane asked.

“We have a group we've been cultivating,” Delk told him. “Street gang, but we've taught them a few tricks – enough for them to cover one of ours as he makes the kill.”

“Reliable?”

“Enough,” the Yun officer replied. “By gold, if nothing else.”

“Very well.”

“The target?” Delk asked.

“Half-Aeraid named Erik
septon
Tarverro,” Brane told him. “Marine Sergeant aboard the
Cloudrunner
.”

“So, Aeraid features, but taller?”

“He should be in uniform with rank insignia, which will make identification easier,” Brane told him.

“It should at that,” Delk agreed. “Done. We'll make the kill.”

Despite the man's carefully hidden prejudice, Erik was forced to admit by the end of the day that Hiakhan was both competent and had no intention of letting his men slide just because their duty seemed light. Half of his platoon accompanied each group of grain wagons out, and then brought them back.

By the time night fell and Erik's squad returned aboard ship, most of the cargo for Yun had been off loaded. He estimated that by noon the next day, they'd start loading the cargo for North Hold, but, fortunately, his men had the day off.

“Hey Sarge,” Ennie said quietly as he was standing to leave the mess hall. “You know much 'bout Yun?”

“Not really,” Erik was forced to admit.

“Howsabout I show you 'round the city tommorrer?” the corporal asked. “I've spent a lot of time on runs coming through here, I know most of the sights to hit.”

Erik hesitated. Whoever had attacked him in Seije might take him wandering around Yun as an open opportunity to take a second shot, and he didn't really want to put anyone else in the target zone. On the other hand, he really didn't know Yun at all.

“You can't let the sonbitches keep you down, Sarge,” Ennie told him. “You need to get out, you can't spend all yer time on this boat.”

Erik hesitated for a moment more, and then nodded. “Sure, why not?” Whatever else being toured around the city by Ennie might be, he doubted it would be boring, and he'd had enough boredom stuck aboard ship for three days in Seije.

To Erik's surprise – he'd been half-expecting a tour of the brothels and taverns of the city – Ennie took him to the main district of the city, where government buildings, merchant house offices and temples to the gods competed to be the most extravagant structure in sight.

The corporal took Erik down the main street, pointing out various features of the marble and stone buildings in his pithy dialect, and demonstrating an in-depth knowledge of architecture that would have astounded most of those who knew the Aeradi noncom.
Erik
was certainly surprised when Ennie pointed out the difference between the 'Draconan-style' pillars on a temple to Fiehr, and the 'Elmatian-style' pillars on the offices of a merchant who dealt with the southwest corner of Cevran.

From the small smile underneath Ennie's near-constant stream of information that would have done any professional tour guide proud, the corporal knew just how much he was surprising his noble superior.

As they drew even with the massive temples of Edril and Hydra that faced each other across the street, just short of the city's Council Hall, Erik finally gave in to his temptation.

“How do you know all this?” he asked the non-com.

Ennie shrugged. “You go through every sonbitch city on Cevran, Sarge, you see every sonbitch thing they build. Listen to the sonbitch tour guides, 'member what they say, and think about it, and ye'll be surprised what ye learn.” He eyed Erik, and grinned. “And me dad was an architect, which helps,” he admitted.

“I see,” Erik replied. “I think I'm
still
impressed,” he added.

“Thankee, Sarge,” Ennie said, stopping and looking over at the temple to Hydra, the god of water. The major gods of the humans, who claimed the blood of earth and water as some mystics reckoned things, were Hydra, god of water, and Edril, god of earth. Hence, those two temples were the biggest in the city, and, while matching each other in size, clearly tried to outdo each other in opulence.

“I know a woman who stays in 'ere,” Ennie told Erik, gesturing towards the water god's temple. “She's a priestess, a blind one, and some say crazy as they come, but she sees the future, or so it's said.” The non-com shrugged. “I don't believe in no fate, but it's decent fun anyways.”

Erik considered for a moment, and then shrugged. “Sure, why not? Let's see what she has to say.”

Ennie grinned, leading the way through the massive pillars, topped with stone carved to resemble waves, into the temple. Just inside the huge wooden doors, which looked like they’d never been closed and probably couldn't be, a blue-robed priest met them.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked them, his voice pitched softly against the gentle tinkling of the fountains inside the temple.

“We're looking fer Eselda,” Ennie told him.

“The prophetess does not see just anyone,” the priest told them in a lofty tone, looking down his nose at the Aeradi noncom.

Erik laid his hand on the shorter man's shoulder, preventing him from acting, and stepped forward to look the priest in the eye. Among humans, he was short, but somehow that didn't stop the priest taking a step backwards.

“My name,” he said softly, “is Lord Erik
septon
Tarverro of Newport. Is that sufficiently 'someone' for me to meet the prophetess?”

The priest obviously recognized the title
septon
, from how he blanched horribly. “I will see if she's available,” the man squeaked, and vanished back into the temple.

“See, Ennie?” Erik murmured. “There are uses for noble titles after all.”

“I'd no argue with ye, Sarge,” the noncom admitted.

The priest returned shortly. “The priestess Eselda will see you,” he said, gesturing for them to follow him.

The pair of Aeradi noncoms followed the priest through the pure white corridors of the temple, many of which had small waterways tinkling down along the sides. The path they followed took them deep in the heart of the temple, and to a single, unadorned door.

The priest stopped at the door. “Go in,” he told them. “I will wait here to guide you back out.”

Erik nodded to the priest and opened the door. The other side seemed quite opulently decorated for a moment, but then he realized that the wall hangings and vast numbers of cushions covering every piece of stonework were probably necessary for a blind woman. Her fellow priests clearly didn't want her hurting herself.

The woman at the center of the room looked odd to Erik's eyes. Her hair was long and white, and drawn into a long braid that exposed ears that were very clearly pointed. Despite the ears, she was short, no taller than the Aeradi at his side.

“Welcome, Lord Tarverro,” she said quietly, her voice gravelly with age, and turned to face him. She bore the arched cheekbones of a Draconan or Aeradi, and that made no sense. To serve here she had to be human, yet she had the marks of every race he'd ever met.

His confusion at her appearance became meaningless as her eyes met his. They were milky white, some sort of substance having covered them long ago, yet they seemed to hold his gaze for a long moment.

Then the moment ended, and her smile of greeting turned to a snarl. “
You!
” she hissed, spitting at him in fury.

“
Get out
,” she snarled. “Father of shadows, harbinger of dark fates!”

Erik backed away. “I'm sorry, I don't know what I've done.”

“Nothing to me, but to my children and my children's children,” Eselda snarled. “Hero and conqueror,
your seed shall break the earth and set Him free
.”

The ancient priestess grabbed a cushion and threw it across the room. Showing a surprisingly good aim and throw for an blind old woman, it hit him in the face, hard, and he beat a hasty retreat, quickly followed by Ennie.

The priest met them outside the door. “What did you do?” he demanded, glaring at Erik.

“I don't know,” the half-Aeraid snapped back. “She just looked at me and started screaming.”

The priest swallowed. “She saw something in your future then,” he said simply. “Something she didn't like.”

Erik looked back at the simple door, deep in the heart of a temple. “Nothing she said made sense,” he replied. “I'm barely a soldier, let alone a 'hero and conqueror.' I have no children, no wife. How am I a 'father of shadow?'“

“The words of prophecy are rarely clear,” the priest told him. “You have been blessed – and cursed – beyond many men. Few are those whose futures Eselda sees in any detail. Few indeed.”

With a final glance at the door, Erik gestured the priest to lead them out. If only a few had futures the priestess saw in detail and that was her reaction when she did, he could have quite happily avoided being one of them.

Wondering just what the prophetess had meant by her words distracted Erik as they left the temple. Ennie attempted to cheer him up by continuing his litany about the architecture and buildings surrounding them, but failed miserably.

Bare minutes after they left the temple, however, a commotion in front of them managed to penetrate even Erik's distraction, especially when he realized the men at the heart of it were Aeradi.

“What the hell?” Erik demanded aloud, and broke into a run for the knot of Aeradi soldiers gathered in the middle of the street with drawn blades.