The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1) (14 page)

“According to what I could see, Aspulax was a native of the Baronies Ripstein. I don't think the rest of the information is useful. Moreover, the file has a reference to the original document of entry. I'll look and see if we have more information there. It'll be faster if you come with me. Follow me,” said the copyist, gesturing with his hand as he took the heavy volume with the other.

Again they began to tour several corridors until they reached a staircase, this time it went down to another level. The staircase led to a huge room without any division, but full of huge shelves with files and books, mostly large ones. They followed Ingucius, who decidedly walked the halls of the room. After stopping to check the numbering of the shelves in a couple of occasions, they reached a corridor that contained tomes identical to the one the copyist had in his hand. Ingucius returned the tome to a gap that was left in one of the lower shelves.

The copyist then went back and in the center aisle, took a small piece of scroll from his pocket. On it he had written down some numbers before leaving his office.

“This is the room of the Personnel Archives. Here all the documentation relating to the employees is saved,” he explained while walking.

After turning a few times in two aisles, he finally stopped in front of a shelf of wooden boxes of medium size that were organized by year of entry, he explained. He took one of the boxes, opened it and began to review the documentation. After a few minutes he took some papers.

“I have it! The file number that we were looking for,” he said triumphantly, while he pointed again for them to follow him.

In the back of the room, there was a row of tables with oil lamps. They sat around one of them and Ingucius began reviewing the document. For a long while the copyist read quietly and concentrated.

“This is what I can ascertain,” said the copyist while the young men listened intently. “Years ago, while he still lived in the Baronies Ripstein, Aspulax was a cleric in the Order of Air, which worships the goddess Tiwind.”

“I've never heard of that order. I wasn't even aware that the goddess Tiwind had an Order dedicated to her,” Mithir said.

“The truth is that I didn't know, either,” admitted Ithelas.

“From what it seems, it must be a popular order in that country, because it mentioned that some of his friends were also in it,” Ingucius said. “So as Beromort said, this is a good lead to follow. And I think I know how we can continue. On the record, it also mentions that one of his favorite books is
"A Detailed History of the Order of the Air",
in the version published by the Monastery of Telodarah. This is a stroke of luck. This reference gives us a quick way to find the book here, if we fortunately have a copy. I hope so, because our collection of ecclesiastical texts is large, as Ithelas knows. Follow me again.”

After returning the form to the box, and placing it carefully, they followed Ingucius who led them through the archive hall, up to the basement where he had his office and finally, through a spiral staircase that led directly to a secluded part of the huge main room of the library area. There he led them to a table to sit on and then disappeared in the huge room. He returned a while later.

“Here it is. We have several copies, so I brought three. I thought we could browse the book in parallel to try to cover more pages. I'll checkup to chapter twelve. Mithir, you check from chapter twelve to twenty. Ithelas, please, review the last chapters,” organized the copyist.

This research was proving very laborious and was taking them a long time, but they were hopeful of being able to get useful information. After reading and skimming for a while, they managed to find some useful information. The Order of the Air had fought vampires in various periods of its history in the Baronies Ripstein. The names of some martyrs who had died in that crusade were provided. The most famous of them all was a man named Kusour who had lived three centuries ago. They called him the Vampire Slayer. In the end he lost his life in that fight, but before he killed more than ten, twenty or a hundred vampires, according to different references. The book didn't say much about the vampires per se.  But it provided new information that seemed interesting. Kusour had contributed his knowledge about vampires to a collection called Classic Bestiary of Baronies Ripstein.

Ingucius left and returned again a half hour later. He carried an old book in his hand.

“I struggled to find it. It is the only copy we have. I've browsed over it and think it is what you are looking for. The books in this catalog are not available for loan, but for sale. It's categorized as a rare book, so it's quite expensive,” he warned them. “I can let you take a look so you can decide if it's worth the money. Supposedly it's five hundred gold coins! Mithir, I can try to get you a discount, but I can't promise you anything. I'll talk to the cashier while you look through it,” said the copyist.

The two young men rushed anxiously on the book. It spoke of all kinds of strange creatures, most of which they had never heard of. They finally arrived on the vampire chapter. In it, they gave many details of these creatures, their habits and their strengths and weaknesses. It was certainly what they had come for. When Ingucius returned shortly after and explained that he had no luck with the cashier, they rushed to give him a bag of gold. And after thanking all the time and effort he had devoted to them, they hurried out of the General Library, took their horses and headed home.

*******

Samar and Erion left for the city somewhat later than the two youngest members of the group. This idea was a little strange for Erion. Samar also looked very young, about the age of Mithir and perhaps younger than Ithelas. However, Erion knew that she was probably the oldest of them all. Her age was possibly centuries, but he didn't dare ask. He knew that, at least, she should be Thost's age, since she's been with him for so long.

Along the way, Erion tried to make conversation several times, but Samar answered in monosyllables or short phrases. She was fairly quiet. However, for some reason, Erion felt an open confidence towards her. He only hoped to have the opportunity to get that confidence to be reciprocal.

Erion watched the elf carefully. She was really beautiful; that ethereal, mystique beauty that only the elves seem to reach. His hair, short and golden, seemed to emit brief flashes, illuminated by the morning sun. Her perfect face showed a classic beauty. Her slightly oval sapphire eyes seemed to light the rest of her face, and were perhaps the most attractive element of the set. It was possible that many men could easily fall in love with her. But the young man clearly understood that Samar kept them all at bay without much effort. Erion was thoughtful for a moment, toying with the idea of whether he would become one of those men.

As they rode toward the city of Ekunon, Erion remembered his brother Mithir for a moment. Since they had left the orphanage years ago, or even when they were still there, they had barely separated. They were almost always together, and they had become so accustomed to each other's company that if they spent a whole day without seeing each other, they longed to meet again. In any case, he thought he was lucky that he had to fetch supplies, accompanying the beautiful Samar.

"Why would Thost have divided the tasks like that?" he wondered.

Perhaps because he still didn't trust him or his brother, or if he thought about it, simply to facilitate the integration and cooperation of the group, so they got to know each other better. In any case, fetching provisions seemed more of an entertaining mission than talking with a wise man with an ego the size of a tarrasque. That task was better for Mithir or Ithelas.

“Well, you're the one who knows the city. Where do we go first?” Erion asked.

“To buy ointments. Let's visit the shop last, because there we'll have to buy heavier goods,” reasoned Samar.

Direct, resolute, determined, and had no problems presenting herself exactly as she was to men; Samar was very different from most women he knew. And the fact that she was a great archer or a decided adventurer was only part of it. Her personality was what most distinguished her. Erion felt... he really wasn't sure how he felt.

Soon they reached the city with Samar leading the way to the shopping district that was located to the northeast. They came to a large square were convoluted and narrow streets came out of it.

“Let's leave the horses here and continue on foot,” waved at the elf.

In one corner of the square there were some stables and they gave their horses to a porter there. The elf gave him a few copper coins and then walked into one of the alleys, indicating Erion to follow her. They walked first by a street lined with butcher shops and other stores that sold food of various types. The smell was a bit strong for Erion, but was not entirely unpleasant. Several shopkeepers were stationed at the doors of their stores, watching them pass. It was likely that they had opened shortly before, and didn't have many customers yet.

They reached a wider and straight avenue. It was nicely paved and had beautiful flower arrangements. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful street he had seen in that city. It was the Walk of the Gem, where the goldsmiths' guild worked and had their business. It was one of the main economic activities of the city and the jewels that were made there were known throughout the county, even in the Kingdom.

After walking for two or three streets, they turned back into a very narrow dark alley. The buildings seemed particularly old, although most had some kind of maintenance. Only a couple of them looked abandoned. Most seemed homes, perhaps of older people who'd lived in them from long ago, or perhaps people who did not have sufficient resources to live in a major street. After walking a few hundred steps, Samar stopped in front of one of the buildings. Erion thought then that another possible reason could be the desire to live in a quiet area.

Samar shook the latch of the door twice, and then waited. After a minute the door opened, but no one went out. Samar then opened the door wider and motioned Erion to follow her, closing the door immediately after. The young man saw the back of what looked like a hunched old woman who walked away down the hall and disappeared into one of the last rooms. He followed Samar through the corridor, traveling the same path as the old woman.

They entered a strange, dark room. In one corner, a huge black cauldron bubbled by the effect of fire coals beneath it. The room had multiple shelves that stored all kinds of glass containers, roots, fruits of various kinds and various plants. At the end of the room, near the window, there was a table with two chairs. Samar sat and Erion followed suit.

The old woman stirred the pot with a long wooden stick, and seemed not to pay attention. She was dressed all in black and had long white, slightly matted hair. Her sour, pale face hid a difficult age to calculate; but she was certainly very old.

“You've brought someone,” said the old woman dryly.

“He's a friend. We won't take up much of your time,” said Samar.

“What do you need?”

“A few things, in fact: three large ointments, three poison antidotes and some potions,” said the elf.

The old woman nodded to Erion, as if asking him to come closer. The young man rose hesitantly, and then approached the cauldron. The woman stopped to look at him slowly, from top to bottom. She seemed to be doing some kind of evaluation.

“Take this and stir,” she said, as she handed him the stick.

Then she left the room with short but quick steps. She returned a while later and placed several bottles on the table in front of the elf, while Erion kept stirring the cauldron.

“What else?” the woman asked.

“Give me five regular healing potions like the last time. Do you also have more powerful one?” Samar asked.

“Why, this is much more than usual. Are you getting ready to go to war? Yes, I have potions for serious wounds,” the old woman said.

“Something like that. How much do those cost?” asked the elf.

“Those are more expensive: 750 gold coins each,” the woman replied.

“Too much for me,” Samar said.

The old woman went to one of the pieces of furniture in the room and opened a drawer. She took a kind of leather belt from it. Then she opened another drawer, and began picking up small glass jars filled with a liquid of a strange color. They were slender cylinders no more than three fingers high and a half finger wide, closed by a small cork. One by one, she put the five bottles in the belt insertion points. Then she placed it in front of Samar.

“The belt's a gift,” clarified the old woman. “I understand that's all?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you very much. What do we owe you?”

The old woman sat down and took a scroll and pen and began to make a few scribbles. When she finished, she handed the note to Samar.

Order Samar

3 ointments ------------------------3 x 250

3 antidotes ------------------------ 3 x 750

5 moderate potions ---------------5 x 300

Total ------------------------------ 4,500 g.c.

Samar stared at the last line of the note. It was a lot of money. But on the other hand, this could be the most important investment of them all in the preparation for their mission. The lives of several members of the group, or even all of them, could depend on having these products or not. It also meant investing almost the entire advance that Phoroz provided. The elf hesitated whether to consult Erion or not before making the purchase. She decided against it. She took the bag with platinum coins that Thost had given her and, after taking a few she had put in a smaller bag, handed the huge sum to the healer.