Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (30 page)

Carefully
selecting words Jeff followed Belstan’s erratic course around the room. “Yes, I
have put you in a difficult position. You have been kind to me, Rogelf openly
generous. What I have to do, what I have to ascertain beyond doubt, might well
place you and Rogelf at considerable risk. I do not wish to see either of you
involved in something that could well be your end.”

Having
calmed himself, Belstan sat down to reconsider everything he had observed since
Jeff joined the caravan.

“It
is not every man from the North who employs such words as ascertain. Most of
those I have met were barely able to lace their boots. I tell you, young Jeff,
I have had a feeling about you from the day we met. Over the years I have
learned that to disregard such feelings is perilous.

“There
are things afoot here that cause me concern beyond anything in memory. If I am
going to listen to what you have to say, and I believe I am, then Rogelf must
be present.”

It
was some time before Belstan returned with Rogelf in tow. The latter ushered
them into an inner office and shut the door. Jeff and Rogelf found seats,
Belstan remained standing.

“Rogelf
and I have worked together for a good share of our lives. We both know in our
hearts that some large threat is brewing, something larger than either of us
has ever encountered. We must discover its origin before it devours us! You
have started something today, Jeffrey. Now we would hear the full tale.”

Although
having second thoughts, Jeff nodded. “Before I tell you about myself, let me
share what I believe is happening in Khorgan. I am many things besides a
warrior, and one of those things is a student of history and peoples. These
studies lead me to conclude that Khorgan is being forced to pay tribute. Now I
ask you, who is mighty enough to force such shame on this city?”

Having
finished what he had to say for the moment, Jeff let the men chew on it while
he studied them. Several minutes passed before Rogelf sat up straight in
outright alarm.

“By
the gods, Belstan. Salchesia. It has to be the Salcheks! No other province or
city has the power.”

Belstan
slapped himself on the forehead and groaned. “How could I have not seen this?
Yes, yes! It has to be the Salcheks!” He pointed an excited finger at Jeff.
“The moment you uttered the word, tribute, everything became clear. Everything
we have seen and heard shouts agreement. But the Salcheks! While it has been
many years since they left Khorgan, stories of the terror they visited on this
city spring to mind afresh. If this is true, it is terrible news.”

The
traders batted the tribute idea back and forth, serving to deepen their
conviction that it was the best explanation for what was going on in Khorgan.

“You
have led us to this conclusion quite skillfully, Jeefrey. May I conclude that
the Salchek Empire is not unknown to you?”

“Your
observation is astute, Rogelf. I believe it time to reveal my origins and intent.”

“Please
do, lest my mind come asunder with speculation!”

Jeff
smiled at Belstan’s relieved expression and proceeded to feed information to
them in hunks small enough to swallow, starting with Rugen and the scrap of
parchment Ethbar had shown him. After brief reflection he decided to say
nothing about his ultimate origins. When he was finished they assaulted him
with such pointed questions that he discarded that reservation.

“You
have referred to me as an outlander, and I am most certainly that. Allow me to
give you a better idea of the land I spring from.”

Pulling
his shirt up, Jeff released the restraining strap and drew the Colt. Opening
the cylinder, he extracted the cartridges and lay it on the table.

“With
this weapon I have the lives of six men in my hand.”

Gazing
at the gleaming thing of silver steel lying on the table, both men looked as if
they expected it to strike out like a snake at any moment.

“You
are among the first people on this planet to view this weapon. Be assured, it
is the least of such on my own.”

They
remained closeted for the rest of the day and much of the evening as well.
Questions flew thick and fast, especially questions having to do with the word,
planet. Mental fatigue took its toll, and the meeting adjourned near midnight.
By mid-morning of the next day they were seated around the same table debating
implications. Every so often, either Rogelf or Belstan would ask to see “the
gun.”

Jeff
held nothing back. He needed quick access to accurate information that would
take months to get on his own. He had probed both men deeply the previous day
and concluded that neither of them had telepathic abilities. They were exactly
what they appeared to be—sharp-minded traders. Even though he assessed them as
savvy men, Jeff had to voice a major concern before the meeting broke up.

“As
we value our lives, no word of these deliberations must come to other ears. I
believe it safe to say that we all understand the virulence of rumor.”

Belstan
snorted. “I would sooner talk about having made love to a finmaid while
traveling through Borstel, my boy.”

The
urgency of the situation forced matters along at a furious clip. Rogelf now
knew which questions to ask and fanned out agents in hopes of snaring
information on just who was in town. Belstan spent considerable time poring
over his collection of maps with Jeff usually hanging over his shoulder. Late
one evening, he stabbed his finger onto a map.

“If
they are coming, it will be through Lukash, Lugsburg or both.”

“Lugsburg
is situated close to the ocean,” Jeff observed, tracing his finger along the
coast, “and accessible by this river. On the other hand, I suspect Lukash will
be the first port of call if the Salchek are coming. From what I have heard, it
seems likely the Arzak cooperated with the Salchek during the last invasion.”

“Without
doubt.” Rogelf entered and Belstan waved him over to the map before continuing.
“While it has been many a year since I traveled to Arzak, I still remember it
as a hateful land, one filled with treachery, deceit and the most vile forms of
slavery.”

“And
Lukash is its capitol city.”

Belstan
nodded toward Jeff with pursed lips, “Yes, and by extension the center and
distillation of all that is evil in that land. That is why I mentioned Lukash
as a possible point of entry for an invasion. The ruling families in Arzak have
coveted Chaldesia for many years and would make fitting accomplices to the
Salchek.”

“What
is their appearance, Belstan? The Salchek, I mean.”

“I
was not yet born when they departed, and coming as we do from the South March
my family was spared contact. I must admit to a certain curiosity. From what is
rumored, one gains the impression of invincible giants.”

“Not
giants,” Rogelf said, “but terrible adversaries. What I know of the Salchek,
that is what I feel to be more than rumor, places them as outlanders whose home
lies across the sea to the south and east of Arzak. They are said to be short
men of great endurance who prefer to fight from horseback or small carriages.
When I was a child, my granny often told stories of their cruelty to make me
behave. Sometimes she even succeeded, so terrible were the tales.”

Chariots,
I’ll bet, Jeff thought. Formidable opponents when facing poorly equipped foot
soldiers and unskilled cavalry. Shit. Khorgan isn’t going to fight, which means
Rugen will take the full brunt of the invasion! Jeff felt a burst of angry
frustration.

“If
history is any guide, the council is likely to believe their gold will purchase
safety. My studies inform me they will fail, but only after the Salchek have
drained the city of every linta in it. Weakened by the loss of so much of its
wealth, Khorgan will fall easy prey to invasion. Once established in this city
and Lugsburg, the way north is open.”

Belstan’s
expression overflowed with contempt. “And the council will discover that gold
is not a sovereign specific while being marched to the scaffold.”

“Yes,”
Jeff replied, rubbing tense neck muscles, “but not until thousands of the
innocent have perished. Let us pray that our suspicions are unfounded.”

It
was a sober trio that split up that evening, each bent on separate errands.
Accompanied by Rogelf’s son, Ostfel, Jeff had been cruising military hangouts
in search of information. On the way out of the room, Rogelf took Jeff’s arm.

“I
have given Ostfel other tasks this evening. My younger child has returned from
visiting family in the farmlands and will accompany you.” Rogelf hurried off.

Jeff
looked after him with a puzzled expression. “What odd phrasing, and why is he
in such a rush?” Shrugging, he ticked off goals for the night’s effort while
walking from the warehouse.

Rounding
a corner, he slammed into someone who was nicely padded. Jeff caught himself
but the woman couldn’t save it and crashed to the floor. He extended his hand
to help her up.

“My
apologies. I should have been more careful.”

The
redhead slapped his hand away and leaped to her feet.

“You
incredible, stumbling oaf! Which barnyard did you escape from?”

“No
harm was intended, I have apologized. Good day.”

Jeff
stepped aside to pass. As luck would have it, she stepped in the same direction
and they collided again.

“You
are an imbecile devoid of breeding. Get out of my way!”

Staring
levelly into green eyes brilliant with anger, Jeff said, “You have legs.”

For
a moment he thought she would try and hit him. Instead, the woman brushed by
with a parting curse and disappeared down the hall.

“Son
of a bitch,” Jeff muttered, watching her out of sight. “What a banshee! I
wonder if she eats nails for breakfast?”

He
had stepped outside in search of his partner for the evening when he heard
footsteps behind him. “Oh shit I hope it isn’t her.” Jeff groaned under his
breath when the redhead emerged from the warehouse.

Fists
on hips, she looked him up and down in utter contempt. “It would seem I must
endure your presence this night. Keep your stumbling frame a safe distance
downwind.”

Jeff
smiled pleasantly. “Tell me, what rock did you crawl out from under?”

“How
dare you to speak to me in such a fashion!” The redhead seemed genuinely shocked.
“You are…you are naught but a common buffoon and the son of a churl!”

“And
you, lady,” Jeff said in a coldly level voice, “are a spoiled child and possess
not the slightest degree of civility. Furthermore, I find your reference to my
father so offensive that I will have satisfaction if you ever express it
again.”

The
redhead’s complexion flushed to a tint that matched her hair. “My father owns
this warehouse and has agreed to suffer your presence. Should I do so this
evening, I would not be able to show my face in Khorgan again. You are fit only
to shovel filth from stables.” She spun around and marched into the warehouse.

Memories
of confrontations with Sarah had made a strong comeback. Jeff had forgotten
what it was like. It made his guts twist.

“God
dammit. Just when I was starting to think I had left that shit behind. Say
whatever they want without fear of being called out. No more.”

Jeff
whirled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Belstan.

“Zimma
is a most difficult, hot-tempered young woman. You must not take her insults to
heart, for they are a common occurrence and widely applied. I am only grateful
that Rogelf was not present to hear them on this occasion. Now come, I will
accompany you.”

Ostfel
was back on the job next evening. Over ensuing days Jeff caught glimpses of
Zimma, but she was of minor concern to him. Matters were coming to a head. A
huge bribe paid to a counselor’s personal secretary confirmed that tribute was
in fact being paid, and in an amount that staggered Belstan and Rogelf.

One
of Rogelf’s agents spotted what he thought might be an Arzak entering city
hall. Other information confirmed an Arzak presence in council chambers. No one
reported sighting a Salchek. That fact was of little importance to Jeff. He was
now convinced that, if an invasion was planned or already underway, Arzak would
be a likely agent-state for the Salchek and on the take from both sides.

One
step remained to confirm their worst fears. Were Salchek present in Arzak, or
not? It was tempting to intercept a courier from Arzak, but Rogelf considered
that too dangerous an undertaking. Instead, he organized a trading expedition
to the origin of the Megaal River at the southern extremity of Lake Ligura.

Although
there was no city as such at that location, Jeff learned a trading post had
come into existence some years previously. More importantly, the post was known
to have close ties with Lukash.

Scandalized
at the thought of wasting a perfectly good opportunity to make a linta or two,
Belstan insisted the expedition be an all-out legitimate trading effort. Sleep
became a precious commodity in days following as trading goods were organized
and stowed on board a vessel owned by Rogelf. In addition to the crew required
to handle the craft, an eighty-foot schooner, it was decided that Belstan and
Jeff would constitute the trading team.