The Merchant and the Menace (59 page)

“We can transport the prisoners on these,” stated
the Elf.

Granu stepped over and untied the lead between the
horses.

“There will be no prisoners,” stated the giant.

“What?” exclaimed Manfir. “Of course there will be
prisoners. These men tried to murder us today! They violated the honor of
parlay.”

Ader stroked the gray stubble on his chin and
stared at Granu. The giant remained steadfast. His eyes searched those of the
Seraph.

“What do you recommend?” asked Ader calmly.

“If they are transported to Zodra they will be
executed for entering Zodrian land and betraying parlay,” stated Granu.

“As they should be,” snapped Manfir.

“This does no one any good,” said Granu.

“Except the Zodrians they may kill in the future,”
grumbled Manfir.

Granu ignored him and turned to address the
Keltaran.

“You will carry one of two messages to the city of
Keltar for me,” commanded Granu. “If you love your king and brethren, you will
go to the city with news of my brother’s treachery. Fenrel is in league with the
Ulrog and trades the future of the Keltaran people for conquest and revenge
against the Zodrians. A deal struck with the Deceiver and his horde gains us
naught but our own doom.

“If you choose Fenrel over the king and his
rightful heir, you may carry a different message of doom. Fenrel’s doom. Tell
my brother I come for him. I’m uncertain of the time and I’m uncertain of the
day. However, one thing I am certain of, Fenrel and I will meet and I will
exact his penance for the treachery he commits.”

Granu stepped over to Eidyn and grabbed the reins
of the Keltarans’ horses. He led the mounts to the soldiers and handed the
reins to them.

“Either choice you make serves my purposes,” said
Granu. “You are weapon-less strangers in a strange land. A long dangerous ride
lies ahead of you. Now go, and may Avra guide your path.”

The pair nervously glanced at one another, then
back to Granu. Their faces were full of fear. Both of the soldiers grabbed the
reins and readied themselves to mount. As the first threw himself into the
saddle, the second stopped and turned to Granu. The soldier looked down to the
ram’s skull tunic that covered his armored chest. He quickly tore it from his
body and dropped to one knee before Granu.

“My lord, I ask your forgiveness and that of my
Creator,” sobbed the soldier.

“I can only offer mine,” said Granu, “and that is
freely given. Go now and serve your people.”

The Keltaran leapt to his feet and swung onto the
back of his mount. The pair drove their heels into the flanks of their horses and
rumbled over the hill to the west. The dust cloud created by their departure
settled and Manfir turned to face Granu.

“I... I think you make a mistake,” said the Zodrian
through clenched teeth.

Granu smiled.

“Vengeance and death are not the only tools of a
leader, Zodrian prince. Compassion and mercy are a powerful ally. In your
world, two more graves are filled and two more children of Avra are gone. No
use to anyone,” said Granu. “In mine, I may add two more friends among my
people. Two who strayed may take the path to righteousness. Two may be willing
to turn their lives over to Avra.”

“May,” stated Manfir.

“What if they don’t? Then they will deliver my
other message. A message almost as useful. They will set doubt and fear in my
brother’s mind. Allies as strong as an armed man. The uncertainty Fenrel
harbors will cause him to falter.”

Manfir’s expression softened and he pondered
Granu’s words.

“You cannot win this war merely with daring and
guile in battle,” stated Granu. “We are at war for the hearts and souls of our
people. They must believe and be led by those who believe. When we capture
their hearts, then we will raise an invincible army.”

 The group stood in silence for a moment and let
the giant’s words wash over them. Kael tried to understand the incredible
resolve Granu possessed. He wondered if he could ever commit himself entirely
to a cause like this man.

The group mounted. Eidyn led one of the Keltaran
mounts to Granu.

“I’m more comfortable on my feet,” stated the
giant. “Besides, how could I disappear when the mood struck. The horse is more
of a burden than a help.”

The travelers set off down the road at a slow trot.
Granu pulled a small book from his robes and stood over the graves of the
Keltaran soldiers. Kael crested a low hill up the road and heard Granu softly
chanting. The boy turned to see the giant, head bowed, outstretch one hand over
the graves and hold it there as he sang. Kael frowned. Granu was certainly
challenging the boy’s notions concerning the giant and his people. Kael spun
his mount north and knew that no matter how hard Prince Manfir pushed the
group, Granu Stormbreaker would join them eventually.

Several more days in the saddle passed. On the
third of these days, Kael woke and prepared for the day’s ride in the usual
manner. Ader stepped into the center of the encampment as saddlebags and
bedrolls were tied onto the backs of the horses.

“Manfir,” called the Seraph. “It’s time for you to
lose the trappings of Rin the tinker. There is no hiding who we are now. The
enemy knows, so let those we hope to call friends know as well. We’ll tarry
here a short time longer for you to make the appropriate changes.”

Manfir pursed his lips and contemplated Ader’s
words. He ran a grimy hand across his bristly chin then pulled his tattered
cape in front of him for inspection.

“We will not make the same mistake in Zodra as we
did in Rindor,” continued Ader. “We will not skulk into the kingdom in the dead
of night. Today, the prince heir of Zodra returns from his long hiatus. Those
who are present will see a man proud to have served, even if they know not
how.”

Manfir smiled and unstrapped a large pack from the
back of his midnight stallion. The pack slammed to the ground with a loud
clang. The Zodrian prince snatched the pack from the ground and spun toward a
shallow brook running near the encampment.

“I’ll be but a moment,” announced Manfir over his
shoulder.

He disappeared from sight behind a thicket of gorse
bush. The men remained silent for a time then Ader turned to the remainder of
the group.

“It’s been a long journey, and you all performed
admirably,” stated Ader. “However, we are now in Manfir’s land. If you know
anything of Zodra, you should know this. She is a kingdom of contradictions.
She is home to more people faithful to my Lord Avra than any other place in all
the lands, yet she was thrust into prominence by the Master of Deceit. Her
numbers grow tremendously as more and more seek her protection, yet she fears
outsiders and treats them ill. Her streets are renown for safety and freedom
from violence, yet her people have been at war with much of the known world for
millennia. In short, you can never trust logic in Zodra. The moment you relax
is the moment you falter.”

The Guide paused and let his words take hold.

“Therefore, I ask you all,” said Ader glancing
toward Teeg. “To stand back and follow the lead of Manfir and myself. The
prince heir left under secretive circumstance. His reputation suffers. The
enemy exploits this occurrence and the rumors grow. It is Manfir’s time to
claim his place. No other can do it for him.”

Teeg bowed toward the Guide.

“It shall be as you ask, my lord,” said the old Elf
somberly.

“Granu,” continued Ader. “Your disappearances are
at an end. You arrive in Zodra as an emissary of the Elven kingdom and with all
the protections such an office affords you. I don’t wish to parade you down the
main street to the palace, but we shall not send you over the wall in the cover
of darkness. Remain in your robe and cowl, but stay with the group as we
approach the capital.”

“As you command, Lord Ader,” rumbled the giant. “I
lay my life in the hands of Avra.”

“Actually, your life will lie in my hands,” came a
voice from behind the gorse thicket. “A prospect you may find troubling.”

Manfir stepped through the thicket and into the
center of the encampment. His unkempt hair was combed and fashioned into a
braid on the back of his head. His grimy, scruffy face was cleansed and shaved
clean. A maroon cloak was clasped with an ornate silver hook around his neck.
The cloak draped over his shoulders and bordered a polished, silver
breastplate. Copper was fashioned on the center of the breastplate into the
image of a diving bird of prey.

“When you embrace a faith in the Creator, you find
nothing troubling,” replied Granu.

Manfir smiled and nodded to the giant. The Zodrian
prince walked through the encampment to his stallion and threw the saddle pack
onto the horse’s rump. He quickly secured it with straps and lifted himself
onto the animal’s back. The others in the party did the same. Once they
settled, Manfir kicked his horse’s flanks and the group started forward.

Half a day passed and finally, Kael beheld signs of
civilization. Homesteads and ranches appeared sporadically as the group crawled
north. Periodic plateaus and ridges still broke up the countryside, but they
were less pronounced. After climbing one of these low ridgelines, Kael looked
to the north and saw the capital.

Zodra was nothing like Rindor. The river city rose
up to the clouds from the swirling mists of the Ituan River. Zodra, on the
other hand, lay squat and wide across the arid, dusty floor of a huge plateau,
encircled by a massive wall. Rindor’s structures increased in height toward the
center of the city, culminating in the royal palace. Zodra followed no such
plan. Buildings of all shapes and sizes stood buttressed to one another.

The troop headed toward the southern wall of the
city and passed weary workers exiting to their homes in the country. The
Zodrians stared at the strange group and many broke into excited conversations.
More than a few muttered Manfir’s name.

Manfir led the group to within one hundred yards of
the massive city wall. The structure stood at least twenty yards high, and was
tipped by a row of three-foot iron pikes. It arched above the spot where the
road entered the city. Two heavy iron doors stood wide open.

 Soldiers patrolled the top of the wall that lay
thick enough to allow a cart to rumble across. More guards took stations atop
the arch and stared at the approaching riders. They called to the gates below
and another group of soldiers turned and moved in front of the gate.

Manfir cupped a gloved hand to his mouth and called
to the causeway above.

“Sergeant of the guard! We seek entry to the capital!”
shouted Manfir.

The soldiers near the gate tensed and slid their
hands over the hilts of their sheathed weapons. The travelers streaming from
the city slowed and stared at the encounter.  Manfir reined in his stallion and
the entire group halted. A broad shouldered soldier on the causeway above
turned and eyed the group beneath him. He stepped to the low, granite step that
ran the length of the upper wall and removed his helm. Kael noted the weathered
features of an old soldier.

“The day grows long and an armored company requests
entry into the capital,” stated the Sergeant. “Not altogether unusual, except
that their leader wears the royal crest of the city and the cloak of a superior
officer of the Guard. Why don’t you simply order the sentries to stand down and
enter of your own volition?”

Ader slid in next to Manfir.

“Our group requests parlay with the house of Macin,
King of Zodra,” called the Seraph.

“Parlay!” exclaimed the sergeant. “Forgive me if I
don’t make myself clear. I served his highness for almost forty years and I’m
sure I’m not mistaken that I recognize his son Manfir.”

A murmur ran through the citizens spread across the
gate’s opening. Several travelers and soldiers alike dashed from the gate into
the city’s interior.

“What need does the prince have of parlay with his
own house?” persisted the sergeant.