Dragon Choir (3 page)

Once out the
window, he padded across the tiled roof to the side of the inn. He
jumped across the gaps between the buildings, careful not to be
seen and descended to the street, using the down pipe of a nearby
building. He began to jog along back streets, heading home, then
the futility of the plan struck him.

They knew
where he lived. City guards were already being posted to each
corner of his block. He would never get past them all. The only
option was to return to Herder Kleith. He would help.

Elrin
backtracked towards the inn. There were no guards, but some locals
gathered near to the front door, gossiping and gawking inside.
People would still be on the lookout for him.

A young vendor
smiled with a conspiratorial wink. His stall was an upturned crate
just inside an alley off Merchant Circuit.

He waved Elrin
over. “Fair clip you get on those pins. Faster than most what I’ve
seen.”

The vendor was
around Elrin’s age. Like Elrin, he was a man ready for ink, but had
none to show. Messy black hair licked across his brow and his
clothes were rough spun. His display of ornaments for sale were
precisely ordered, graded by size and colour in three neat
rows.

Two city
guards came down the main road in their direction. Elrin edged
further into the alley, ready to run.

“
Easy now,” The vendor placed a small statue into Elrin’s
hand. “Just have a peek at the wares and a natter. They won’t
notice you here. They’re out for a rabbit not a fox.”

Elrin
pretended to inspect the scrimshaw trinkets and sandalwood
beadwork. He made every effort to keep his back to the road,
instinct urging him to face the threat. He bottled it all down,
forced his feet to stand still. He picked up a statuette.

“
Only the finest dragon bone, see.”

“
Really?” Elrin examined the small figurine of Ona, the
Mother. “Looks like horn.”

“
Of course it is, my mistake. Dragon horn it is. And for three
coppers, it’s the perfect gift.”

“
Only three?” Elrin felt awkward. Was this a bribe to keep
quiet? There was no chance the statuette was dragon horn at that
price.

The scruffy
vendor peered over Elrin’s shoulder. “They’re most past now,” he
whispered. “Just wait here and mind the merchandise for me.”

The vendor
walked out of the alley and onto Merchant Circuit proper. He looked
up and down the road and returned with a knowing smile. “You’re set
to go. Want the Good Mother for your travels?”

“
Thanks, but no. I don’t have anything to give.” Elrin shook
his empty pouch to prove it.

“
If you’ve pissed off a guilder then you’re all right with me.
See now, with no ink on you and none on me, we’re almost
brothers.”

“
If it’s all the same, you keep it.” Elrin left the Ona
statuette on the table. “Thanks for your help.”

Elrin crossed
onto Merchant Circuit and walked beside a wagon rolling down the
street. An off street took him behind the leatherworkers’ guild
house. Further along, he ducked down a back alley. It was filthy
with refuse. He followed the alley as it slunk left and right,
collecting festering waste from the knacker’s yard and the tannery
vats. The alley became more like a drain than a thoroughfare; slick
with green and brown algae. It terminated in a barred sewer
entrance. He climbed up the iron grill and onto a small road
running behind the Hall of the Dead and Herder Kleith’s residence.
He knocked on a small rear door and waited.

***

After a
moment Herder Kleith opened the door. Although he held the highest
station as the Hand of Nathis, Herder Kleith dressed simply in
robes of grey roughspun. There was no way of telling the rank or
station between each herder, they all wore the same. Elrin knew
Kleith’s kind face though. It was a welcome sight.

“
Have they come?” Elrin looked up and down the alley and
peered in the room behind the priest. “Are the guards
here?”

“
Your eyes child. My, what is wrong with them? They’re set to
burst.”

“
Please Kleith. Are they in there too? Tell me and I’m gone. I
won’t bring this on you if they are ... are they?”

“
No child. Quickly now, in, in.” Kleith coaxed Elrin through
the door, shutting and bolted it after him. “Come and
sit.”

The priest
guided Elrin to a plush lounge and let him sit. Elrin’s hands shook
and his jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth to sand.

Herder Kleith
rang a small bell and Elrin jumped. “Easy child, I only call for
tea.”

“
Sorry, Kleith. The Guildmaster rang his bell too and he
wanted me dead. He cast a spell on me, I couldn’t move and then
these guards came. They were dressed like city guards, but they
kicked me and jumped on me. The guards, they ...” Elrin traced the
sigils on the daggers blade, curious that no blood marred the steel
after the fight. “I think I killed one. There was so much
blood.”

Kleith set his
brows together, but his eyes softened. “Firstly, tea. Then we will
start from the beginning.”

Tea came and
Elrin told his story. Herder Kleith listened closely.

“
This is indeed serious.”

“
I have to get back to Mother. They might have her. They might
think she knows where I am. What if they kill her?” Elrin’s mind
raced into a panic and he stood up. “I have to go warn
her.”

“
No. That is not wise. You must escape. I will protect
her.”

“
Then what of Father? Why were they speaking of him? Why would
they want to kill me for eavesdropping? I don’t even understand
what they were on about.”

“
This dagger you mentioned. The one you used against the
guards. Do you have it with you?”

Elrin
presented the dagger without hesitation.

Kleith
gingerly reached out and touched the blade then winced, recoiling
and shaking his hand as though it had bitten him. The hilt grew hot
and the sigils glimmered gold.

“
Describe it to me Elrin. Is the blade curved? Is there a
large black stone at the end of the hilt?”

“
It’s right here. Can’t you see it?”

“
It wishes to remain unseen to me. It is wise. You had best
follow its good example. Come, we must get some robes. They won’t
be searching for a herder.”

The guilder
took the young man upstairs to a dressing room and fitted him in
the grey garb. The garments were baggy enough to fit over his
clothes, hanging to his knees with long sleeves that covered his
hands. A cowl hung low over his face, concealing his features.

Kleith rushed
about anxious for him to leave. Elrin knew he was trying to keep
him from harm, but all he wanted was an explanation. There was so
much unsaid. Kleith knew something. He had to. What was he holding
back?

“
Why don’t you speak of Father when I ask? You were his best
friend. He must be alive. He might be here. Don’t you want to find
him too?” Elrin tried to catch Kleith’s eyes, to find some sign of
the truth, but the collector averted his gaze and focused on
packing a satchel.

“
There is much afoot here Elrin. Calimska is folding upon
itself and you are not safe here. Your mother will not be safe with
you here either. You must leave.”

Tears welled
in Elrin’s eyes. “But, what of Father? What of him?”

Kleith gripped
his shoulders, his own eyes moist. “You are Arbajkha’s son indeed.
He was always at the point of a situation. Always in the wrong
place at the wrong time. That dagger followed him around too you
know.”

Twisting the
weapon, Elrin remembered his father’s bedtime stories of heroic
adventure. The tears took over; it was all too much. Kleith had
been there for Elrin and his mother, but he never spoke the name
Arbajkha. Not since his father left. Mother was the same. For all
Elrin’s asking they never spoke of him. His mother would cry and
Kleith would comfort. Things were better for his mother without
hearing of Arbajkha and now she would not hear of Elrin.

He had to go,
or die. He didn’t understand why, but knew it was serious. Kleith
always looked out for them and knew what was right.

“
Easy child, leave these tears.” Kleith put his arm around
Elrin’s shoulders again, his grip firm and comforting. “You must be
strong if we are to aid your father.”

Elrin’s heart
leapt. Father is alive! Just as he always believed. He took a deep
breath and did his best to stem the tears. He would be strong and
listen.

“
You must travel to the Hoard Islands. Seek the Dragon
Choir.”

“
Dragon Choir? You mean the Dragon Cord, like in the legends
of Drensel Tath?”

“
No. You must seek the aid of the Choir.”

A loud banging
on the door downstairs gave Elrin a start.

“
Quickly, there’s no time. Take the hall to the resting
chambers then leave through the chapel. Make haste!” Herder Kleith
rose and left the room.

Elrin grabbed
the satchel, stuffing the dagger inside and raced down the hall,
careful not to thump his heels on the boards. He passed through an
arch and down a spiral staircase that led him below ground to the
chambers of respite. Glow pots and candles illuminated scores of
dead at rest. It made him uneasy, the mourning silence thickening
the chill air where the dead lay to farewell the living.

He hurried
through the dank chamber into the chapel’s gentle warmth. His
unceremonious entrance drew a glare from a priest kneeling in
prayer. Elrin slowed to a brisk walk and bowed in apology, keeping
his face concealed.

“
And don’t forget the crook this time prentice, lest it be
your last. Plenty more poor boys to replace your forgetful lump of
adolescence.” The Priest returned to his prayer and Elrin did as he
was told, seeking the crook to avoid suspicion.

The crook was
a tall wooden staff with a silver incense condenser hanging from a
chain. Elrin had witnessed Kleith prepare the crook many times
before and repeated the ritual, adding several hot coals to the
condenser followed by three squares of resin. He shut the lid and
smoke began to rise from the silver lattice of the condenser; a
little too much smoke.

“
Get out of the chapel with that, you dolt! By Nathis boy; the
lost are out there. Out! Out!”

Elrin opened
the chapel door and moved into the street. He squinted in the glare
and waited for his eyes to adjust. People in the street kept their
distance. They covered their noses to avoid the smoke billowing
from the crook, as if breathing the incense would call Nathis to
take their souls while they still lived. It was a ridiculous
notion, but convenient for him nonetheless.

The vapours
still pumped in his system. It was an effort not to break into a
sprint for the gates and keep on running. Elrin got to the end of
the road where a market square began. Four guards were on watch,
waiting at the market entrance. Elrin kept a steady walk and held
the crook high in front of him. He concentrated on an easy gait,
transferring a gentle swing to the condenser with each step. One of
the guards looked straight at him for a moment, but did nothing.
The others averted their eyes, hoping to avoid the death
collector’s attention.

Elrin
continued through the market square and took Lake Road through to
the Silk Gate. Wagons and riders trying to leave the markets were
being stopped at the barbican while guards inspected their cargo,
searching for a stowaway.

A wave of
nausea swept over him. All he wanted to do was turn and run. People
on foot were passing in a steady flow through the wicket gate, but
a guard stood either side of the passage, eyeing off those leaving
the city. Elrin was about to turn around and seek another way out
of the city when the guards pulled a young man to the side. People
kept moving through the pedestrian access while the poor fellow was
searched and questioned.

Elrin’s gut
squirmed, but he took his chance, pressing ahead to the passage
through the city walls. The crowd made way for him and the guards
gave him no notice at all. He passed through the pedestrian access
without being stopped.

Further down
Lake Road he felt his legs growing weak and headed to the shade of
a tree. The violent surge of strength had vanished and his vision
swam. The blaze vapours were making a rapid retreat, leaving his
body empty and the world distorted. Elrin fought to contain his gut
and failed, retching beside the tree, spasms contorting his
insides. With a throbbing head and trembling limbs, Elrin crawled
away from the foul mess and rested against the tree.

He worried
over how to reach the Hoard Islands and find the Dragon Choir.
Thinking of his mother all alone, staring out the window awaiting
his return, clouded his eyes with tears again. Kleith would take
care of her; keep her safe. He wiped the tears away; crying would
likely attract attention. Not that the vomiting wouldn’t. Although,
people mightn’t think a drunken apprentice was so far out of the
ordinary.

Wagons rolled
by on their way between the market square; inside the city walls
and the trading post; not far from his tree. Most of the wagons
were small traders from the local area, their wagons packed solid
with produce from the fields and orchards. A few were heading out
of town, but the empty wagons that he might fit in were likely
headed back to the farms of nearby hamlets. The wagons going
through the mountain pass to the east were the only option.

Elrin gathered
his strength, pulling himself up to stand with the crook for
support and staggered to the trading post, seeking passage to the
coast.