Monday, January 28, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 109
At least to Mill’s nose, the strong scents that had been emanating from him for several days now had been erased after bathing. But he would need to do better for the nose of the Creature of Virtue, whose nostrils sucked in more and probed the air more deeply than his nose could.
He walked up to a tall pine and pulled away some of its bark, releasing the earthy sweetness of the sap. He rubbed his hands on the trees and then rubbed it all over his body. He found a bit of sap leaking out of another tree, and then, after warming it in his hands, smeared it on his skin.
Once he was dressed, he gathered handfuls of needles from the pine trees. He pulled them in bunches directly off of the trees, and then he stuffed them in pockets down his shirt. Any part of him that could carry the bunches was filled with needles, until his whole body reeked of the scent. This would have to be how he’d approach.
By the time he was finally ready, the sun had disappeared and the forest was black. Some flickers of light were visible in the city, and in particular he could see the fires that illuminated the sentry post at the town’s entrance.
He decided on a route that would lead him directly towards the sunsetward side of the Orinda Lake. It would bring him to the back of Hassock’s pastures, which he could sneak across. From there, he could wind his way through the city to Anika’s.
He took several deep breaths as he prepared himself for his long sprint, hopping up and down and moving his body around. A thousand doubts passed through his mind, but before he would let any of them stop him, he began to run. He sprinted at top speed across a distance that was far further than his legs could carry him at such speed. The town was only just visible in the distance when he started to run, and now, as he was passing through the territory of the Creature of Virtue, he could feel his legs beneath him starting to ache.
He now reached the shore of the lake and was turning to the right to circle around it. He was out of sight and earshot of the men who stood guard at the gate. Moments later he could see some of the crops in Hassock’s pastures rising before him. He darted down rows of wheat, moving towards a barn near Hassock’s home.
He could feel his legs weakening. His fear gave them the will and the incentive, but it didn’t give them energy or strength, and the longer he ran, the more that was sucked out of them.
He listened for the sound of the Creature, even though he knew that there would be no warning. The Creature was mostly silent as it stalked.
Fortune, though, blessed him with the slightest warning this time, the sound of the crops being parted by something behind him. He turned back, and all he saw was a black shadow flying through the airs towards him. He ducked and dodged, and the Creature soared over him. He changed directions, but still darted in the direction of the barn. The Creature was ready to leap again, just as he rounded a corner and was able to put a wall of the barn between him and the Creature.
The Creature still pursued, and he still to run, but she started to grow more cautious. As he neared the streets and looked back, he could see the Creature having come to a stop. The Creature made a whine and then growled angrily. She pawed at the ground, creating clouds of dust as she tried to stand tall and look intimidating. She was apparently trying to lure him towards her, afraid as she was to approach the city any closer, but Mill just continued to walk.
His aim was Anika’s. He wove through the city streets, which were mostly empty past the hour of sunset, and found his way, once again to the door of Anika’s home. He didn’t knock this time, instead simply slipping himself inside through the front door.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 108
Darma woke to a finger touching her lips. When she looked up and saw the black curly hair and olive skin, she smiled with recognition at Amida standing over her in the shadows.
Amida leant down and the two women shared a long kiss. As Amida retracted, she sniffed Darma’s skin with her nose, progressing down her neck to her chest, which was bare beneath the sheets. “You smell like Salles, don’t you?” She asked Darma, “Don’t tell me that it’s Salles I smell on your body?”
Darma gave a bashful smile and then she said to Amida in her characteristic way, “Please don’t be jealous. You know that it’s not the same thing with men. Men are more like useful instruments than lovers to me.” Darma laughed a little bit at her own words and had to restrain herself in order to avoid making too much noise.
“But you have a husband, and he is not him,” Amida whispered quietly, though in a tone of loud reprimand.
“Yes, but he is here to do what my husband can’t. Hopefully,” Darma said, “I don’t enjoy it. Well, actually I do, sort of. But only you have a place in my heart.”
Amida looked somewhat hurt when Darma said this, but she simply sighed and asked her, “Why do I put up with you?”
“I hope it’s because you love me,” Darma replied, and Amida sighed once again.
Mill and Strya had spent most of the remainder of the daylight walking towards Orinda. They plodded through unkempt pastureland and forest, remaining not just far from but completely out of sight of the road that connected Waldoon and Orinda.
They neared the city as the sun was setting and its colors were spreading across the sky. As they approached, they saw Orinda begin to separate from the thick forests that surrounded it, the large house of the Arbiter, standing prominently on a hill, being the most salient feature.
Strya stopped Mill at a distance comfortably beyond the territory of the Creature of Virtue. He turned to him and glibly explained, “I trust you can find your way to Orinda from here. It’s that place over there. Point your eyes toward it and aim your body in the same direction and you’ll be there. Though, I would recommend taking a more roundabout approach to avoid attention. I have other work to attend to, so I’ll leave you. I already did my part. And more. You have your instructions from Anders. Go forth and do your duty.”
Strya and Mill shared a sober goodbye, in which Mill thanked Strya profusely. After this exchange, Mill watched Strya disappear into the woods.
Mill turned back to Orinda and considered carefully how he could successfully approach it without getting killed. He had always relied on luring the Creature away and then hiding behind a false scent. But what could he possibly use to lure the creature away? Catch some game and slaughter it? With what? He had no weapons or tools. And how could he cover his scent?
This question he thought he could answer. He would start by bathing. There was a fairly small river that fed into the Orinda Lake that would have to suffice. He travelled through the woods to the banks of this small river. It was small enough that he could almost step over it, but he hiked upstream to a moderately flat section where there was some pooling just above a cascading set of waterfalls. He dipped his hands into the frigid water, which came from high altitudes in the mountains and thus practically numbed the hands at the touch. He scooped up some of it and splashed it on his face.
He fully undressed, first thoroughly washing the now worn and stinking clothes he’d been wearing for several days now. He dangled them from the branches of trees to dry. Then he subsequently plunged himself into the water. The creek was not deep enough that he could fully submerge his whole body, only parts. He bathed rapidly, so chilled by the cold water that he began to shiver. All he could do to dry himself was to scrape the water off his skin and wait for the chilly early evening air to dry him as he curled his body up to keep warm.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 107
After only three nights home, Dorin had to leave once again. Darma was there to see him off with all apparent sorrow, kissing him and hugging him tightly as they stood at the door.
Salles, wit them in the entryway of Dorin and Darma’s home, shook hands with Dorin and thanked him profusely for the generosity of letting him stay at his house. Dorin nodded politely saying, “Yes, yes. My wife has always been keen on supporting the Sages. She’s always taken pride in her Aresan lineage and loves Aresan cluture, even if she did end up marrying a non-Aresan like me. But, I’m happy to let her have her way in this. Besides you Sages are a good bunch. A bit over-educated, if I can be honest, but trustworthy and respectable, to be sure.”
Salles smiled uncertainty, not sure how pleased to be by this half-compliment and not really comfortably enough around Dorin to speak his mind.
Salles suggested that Darma walk her husband to the stables where Dorin had boarded his horse and then, after they stepped through the front door together, hand in hand, he remained behind, in order to give them some time alone. From the stables, she kissed her husband goodbye one last time, as he stood by his horse. He wrapped her in his arms and told her tenderly, “The thought that you’re back here waiting for me, gives me strength during those long, dull periods when I’m away from you. I just want you to remember that. I think about you daily.”
“And I think of you more than daily,” Darma coquettishly replied.
She helped her husband up in to the saddle, and they shared one last kiss before he trotted away out onto the streets.
When Darma returned to her home, she found Salles still waiting in the entryway, apparently anxious for her return.
“Was it a doleful departure?” he asked.
“It was,” Darma said, with an incongruously beaming face. “But don’t be jealous,” she said, noticing the tone of displeasure in Salles’ question, “He may be my husband and I may be devoted to him, but he is not the first man in my heart.”
“I’m not jealous,” Salles responded, averting his gaze and turning away from you. “And I can’t imagine why you would say that. How could I be the first man in your heart, a man you’ve known only for some nine days?”
“Did I say you were the first man in my heart?” she said, laughing playfully, “Maybe you’re not the one either. But then again, my husband did just say that I do love the Sages very much. So, why shouldn’t I be in love with a handsome charming Sage like you?”
Darma turned Salles towards her and took his hands in hers, edging her face towards him. She looked up into his eyes and suggested, “Why don’t we make love. Now. It’ll make you feel so much better. And, who knows? This might be your last chance. You don’t know when they’ll summon you back to the cloisters?”
Darma’s words turned out to be prophetic when early that evening Amida and Eloh appeared at the front door, both of them stooping from fatigue and eager to rest after a long day of travel.
Eloh hugged Salles tightly at his arrival, asking him, “So, young novice, have you become a man of the city now? You’ve been here so long, you must be master of the city by now?”
Amida and Salles shared a lighter hug and she merely said, “Hello Salles. Glad to see you.”
Darma, though, greeted them both with a jubilant and animated greeting, grabbing them in her arms and kissing them on the cheeks before she told them both, “Oh! So wonderful to see you, both. Especially Eloh, who it’s been far too long since I’ve seen. My, you only seem to grow more handsome as you age. I wish that were my fate. Yet, here I am. Not even thirty and my beauty already fading. Tragic to be a woman.”
Amida was forced to recount to Salles and Darma her entire ordeal with tracking the courier, being captured and held and finally being returned, while they sat over dinner. Darma could barely contain her emotion at hearing this harrowing tale and she congratulated Amida on surviving such an ordeal.
That evening, Salles, much to his displeasure, was again relegated to the windowless interior room he’d used when he first arrived with Noone. While he struggled to sleep, outside his door, the almost imperceptible sound of bare feet tiptoeing across the floor towards Darma’s room could be barely discerned from silence.
Salles, wit them in the entryway of Dorin and Darma’s home, shook hands with Dorin and thanked him profusely for the generosity of letting him stay at his house. Dorin nodded politely saying, “Yes, yes. My wife has always been keen on supporting the Sages. She’s always taken pride in her Aresan lineage and loves Aresan cluture, even if she did end up marrying a non-Aresan like me. But, I’m happy to let her have her way in this. Besides you Sages are a good bunch. A bit over-educated, if I can be honest, but trustworthy and respectable, to be sure.”
Salles smiled uncertainty, not sure how pleased to be by this half-compliment and not really comfortably enough around Dorin to speak his mind.
Salles suggested that Darma walk her husband to the stables where Dorin had boarded his horse and then, after they stepped through the front door together, hand in hand, he remained behind, in order to give them some time alone. From the stables, she kissed her husband goodbye one last time, as he stood by his horse. He wrapped her in his arms and told her tenderly, “The thought that you’re back here waiting for me, gives me strength during those long, dull periods when I’m away from you. I just want you to remember that. I think about you daily.”
“And I think of you more than daily,” Darma coquettishly replied.
She helped her husband up in to the saddle, and they shared one last kiss before he trotted away out onto the streets.
When Darma returned to her home, she found Salles still waiting in the entryway, apparently anxious for her return.
“Was it a doleful departure?” he asked.
“It was,” Darma said, with an incongruously beaming face. “But don’t be jealous,” she said, noticing the tone of displeasure in Salles’ question, “He may be my husband and I may be devoted to him, but he is not the first man in my heart.”
“I’m not jealous,” Salles responded, averting his gaze and turning away from you. “And I can’t imagine why you would say that. How could I be the first man in your heart, a man you’ve known only for some nine days?”
“Did I say you were the first man in my heart?” she said, laughing playfully, “Maybe you’re not the one either. But then again, my husband did just say that I do love the Sages very much. So, why shouldn’t I be in love with a handsome charming Sage like you?”
Darma turned Salles towards her and took his hands in hers, edging her face towards him. She looked up into his eyes and suggested, “Why don’t we make love. Now. It’ll make you feel so much better. And, who knows? This might be your last chance. You don’t know when they’ll summon you back to the cloisters?”
Darma’s words turned out to be prophetic when early that evening Amida and Eloh appeared at the front door, both of them stooping from fatigue and eager to rest after a long day of travel.
Eloh hugged Salles tightly at his arrival, asking him, “So, young novice, have you become a man of the city now? You’ve been here so long, you must be master of the city by now?”
Amida and Salles shared a lighter hug and she merely said, “Hello Salles. Glad to see you.”
Darma, though, greeted them both with a jubilant and animated greeting, grabbing them in her arms and kissing them on the cheeks before she told them both, “Oh! So wonderful to see you, both. Especially Eloh, who it’s been far too long since I’ve seen. My, you only seem to grow more handsome as you age. I wish that were my fate. Yet, here I am. Not even thirty and my beauty already fading. Tragic to be a woman.”
Amida was forced to recount to Salles and Darma her entire ordeal with tracking the courier, being captured and held and finally being returned, while they sat over dinner. Darma could barely contain her emotion at hearing this harrowing tale and she congratulated Amida on surviving such an ordeal.
That evening, Salles, much to his displeasure, was again relegated to the windowless interior room he’d used when he first arrived with Noone. While he struggled to sleep, outside his door, the almost imperceptible sound of bare feet tiptoeing across the floor towards Darma’s room could be barely discerned from silence.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 106
Jesek, along with all the other scribes, ceased his work for the day close to the night point. He stowed his materials away while other scribes were doing the same, pushing the papers, ink and pens into separate places in the shelves on the wall. Jesek said goodbye to his colleagues and, along with them, left the Public House for home.
He and his wife, Selah, occupied an apartment near where he worked. He stepped off the street into a small quad shared by several surrounding apartments. He climbed a set up stairs rising from the street-level to the second-story front door of his apartment. When he opened the door, the first person he saw was his tiny infant son, nestled in a cradle on the floor.
Selah walked into the room and said, “Hello, my love,” as she reached down and picked up the smiling infant. The gorgeous young blonde wrapped her slender arms around him and nestled him close against her soft chest.
Jesek took his son in his hands, playfully raising him up above his head. “Hello, my little treasure box,” he said to the child in a cheerful voice, “You didn’t give your mother any trouble today, did you?”
After a few moments of playing with his son, he handed him back to his wife, and told her, “I had a personal visit from General Alles. He’s of course going to be going with the army when they leave in a few days. And he wants me with him.”
Selah gave her husband a distressed look, and asked, “You didn’t say you would, did you?”
“Now, hold on. I haven’t finished,” he admonished, “He told me I wouldn’t be fighting. I’d be far behind the battlefield. I’d just be helping out with navigation and strategy.”
“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?” Selah again interrupted.
“I'm not finished,” he again admonished, “He said I’d be paid well for my services, not to mention the prestige of the position. But, I said…”
“You said you couldn’t do it,” Selah interrupted once more.
“No, I said I’d have to ask my wife. It’s up to her,” Jesek said, pausing for a moment and bringing out his disarming smile, “So? What do you think?”
Selah didn’t say anything in response, but was clearly unmoved. Jesek was accustomed to being able to persuade a woman of anything he said simply by leaning in towards her, gripping her hands and looking deep into her eyes with a beguiling smile spread across his lips. He could never be refused. He was used to his serene handsomeness enchanting women and putting them under his power. He’d never mastered the art of persuading people with words—in the form of a letter or an essay. He was used to being able to use his body and his body’s language to persuade. His wife, though, had grown partially immune to his powers, so that when he grabbed her hand, locked her in his eyes and said, “This would be really great for both of us; I’ll come back alive and well,” it was ineffective.
He didn’t need her to speak to understand that her mind remained unchanged and he was quick to cut her off before she could speak, saying, “It’s also a matter of duty. They’ve done so much for us. We were taken in as refuges. Our baby was delivered here by an Aresan Mage. And they helped me find a job. After all that, we have a duty to do what we can for our adopted home.”
“You already did your part,” Selah complained, “You were gone for days. I was all alone. And now you’ll leave me alone again.”
“You’ve got friends here now. They’ll help you. And think about what we could do with the money. What we could do for our baby,” he said.
Jesek had intensified the force of his persuasive body language, slowing moving his face closer and pleading with his eyes as he said, “I will be back.”
Selah finally gave up, fatigued from the effort of resisting. She didn’t say anything, but he could clearly see it in the way her body relaxed and retreated. “It will be for the best,” he said, “For all three of us.”
He and his wife, Selah, occupied an apartment near where he worked. He stepped off the street into a small quad shared by several surrounding apartments. He climbed a set up stairs rising from the street-level to the second-story front door of his apartment. When he opened the door, the first person he saw was his tiny infant son, nestled in a cradle on the floor.
Selah walked into the room and said, “Hello, my love,” as she reached down and picked up the smiling infant. The gorgeous young blonde wrapped her slender arms around him and nestled him close against her soft chest.
Jesek took his son in his hands, playfully raising him up above his head. “Hello, my little treasure box,” he said to the child in a cheerful voice, “You didn’t give your mother any trouble today, did you?”
After a few moments of playing with his son, he handed him back to his wife, and told her, “I had a personal visit from General Alles. He’s of course going to be going with the army when they leave in a few days. And he wants me with him.”
Selah gave her husband a distressed look, and asked, “You didn’t say you would, did you?”
“Now, hold on. I haven’t finished,” he admonished, “He told me I wouldn’t be fighting. I’d be far behind the battlefield. I’d just be helping out with navigation and strategy.”
“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?” Selah again interrupted.
“I'm not finished,” he again admonished, “He said I’d be paid well for my services, not to mention the prestige of the position. But, I said…”
“You said you couldn’t do it,” Selah interrupted once more.
“No, I said I’d have to ask my wife. It’s up to her,” Jesek said, pausing for a moment and bringing out his disarming smile, “So? What do you think?”
Selah didn’t say anything in response, but was clearly unmoved. Jesek was accustomed to being able to persuade a woman of anything he said simply by leaning in towards her, gripping her hands and looking deep into her eyes with a beguiling smile spread across his lips. He could never be refused. He was used to his serene handsomeness enchanting women and putting them under his power. He’d never mastered the art of persuading people with words—in the form of a letter or an essay. He was used to being able to use his body and his body’s language to persuade. His wife, though, had grown partially immune to his powers, so that when he grabbed her hand, locked her in his eyes and said, “This would be really great for both of us; I’ll come back alive and well,” it was ineffective.
He didn’t need her to speak to understand that her mind remained unchanged and he was quick to cut her off before she could speak, saying, “It’s also a matter of duty. They’ve done so much for us. We were taken in as refuges. Our baby was delivered here by an Aresan Mage. And they helped me find a job. After all that, we have a duty to do what we can for our adopted home.”
“You already did your part,” Selah complained, “You were gone for days. I was all alone. And now you’ll leave me alone again.”
“You’ve got friends here now. They’ll help you. And think about what we could do with the money. What we could do for our baby,” he said.
Jesek had intensified the force of his persuasive body language, slowing moving his face closer and pleading with his eyes as he said, “I will be back.”
Selah finally gave up, fatigued from the effort of resisting. She didn’t say anything, but he could clearly see it in the way her body relaxed and retreated. “It will be for the best,” he said, “For all three of us.”
Monday, January 21, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 105
When Strya Solis and Rock weren’t calling out to the assembled crowds they were complaining confidentially to one another: “This is the worst part about being a soldier,” “Why can’t they find other people who actually enjoy this rubbish,” “Think killing soldiers is tough? Try persuading these weak-kneed cowards to arm up and fight,” “We’re not even that good at it,” and so on.
The complaints came to a stop when Solis elbowed Rock in the side and gestured towards Alles, who was sauntering towards them. He had the posture of a chiseled statue and people slipped aside as he moved through the crowds. The whole character of the crowds changed when they saw Alles. He moved as if he walked above them, as if the soles of his feet tread upon their heads and they looked up at him with admiration.
Solis and Rock had the strength and confidence of hardened soldiers and could surely terrify any man who ran upon them alone and defenseless, but they couldn’t command veneration like Alles. They both straightened up when they saw Alles approaching and fell silent.
“Welcome General,” the men both said in unison.
“Has your recruiting been successful?” Alles asked.
The two men looked at one another and traded slight frowns before they looked back to Alles and said simultaneously: “We’ve been somewhat successful” and “We’ve gotten a few recruits.”
“Good,” Alles said, “Do better, though. I know this is not the type of job you have been trained for, but this is absolutely necessary. Let me assist, at least.”
Alles then turned around and looked over the crowd and announced in a booming voice: “Citizens and civilians, we are in search of recruits for our army. Your country needs you. Your friends and neighbors need you, in order to protect them against the invading hordes that threaten their lives and their freedom. Do you have enough metal in your heart to take up the burden of this responsibility? Do you? If so, come forth and give us your name and your commitment.”
Within moments of Alles finishing his short soliloquy, several men were already lining up before Rock and Solis. The two soldiers asked each man their name and which clan they belonged to; then they made a mark on a sheet of paper, by which they kept track of the number of recruits; finally they took a cup of ink and dipped the four fingers of the recruit’s right hand into it until the fingers were stained a deep purple.
“Don’t both trying to wash that off,” Solis instructed them after their fingers were stained, “We’ll call for you in two days. So be ready.”
Alles departed soon afterwards, walking towards where he had originally been headed, to the Public House. He walked in through the main entrance. Many people stepped aside and bowed to him as he walked through the colonnade to the Open Table. Off to the right, in a small scriptorium, he found Jesek, the man he was looking for. He saw the young refuge huddled over a paper, which he was copying. It was an official decree concerning the commandeering of horses for the purpose of the upcoming war.
When Jesek saw the general, he stood up. “Sit, please,” Alles said, and grabbed a chair to sit beside him. “I want you to join me again when we march,” Alles said, leaning forward and looking directly into Jesek’s eyes, “You won’t be expected to fight. You’ll remain in the back ranks, assisting with navigation and strategy. Your contributions will be invaluable. I cannot stress that enough. You will of course be compensated generously for your service. But I can’t force you to join on this time. It’ll be entirely voluntary. If you insist on refusing, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. But I very much want you to join us.”
A disarming smile spread across Jesek’s lips as he heard this, and he lowered his face and looked up at Alles with his soulful eyes. “For you Alles, I’d do anything,” Jesek said, “But I’ll have to ask the wife. She makes my decisions for me.” He produced a small laugh to express that he was joking, though he was only partially doing so.
The complaints came to a stop when Solis elbowed Rock in the side and gestured towards Alles, who was sauntering towards them. He had the posture of a chiseled statue and people slipped aside as he moved through the crowds. The whole character of the crowds changed when they saw Alles. He moved as if he walked above them, as if the soles of his feet tread upon their heads and they looked up at him with admiration.
Solis and Rock had the strength and confidence of hardened soldiers and could surely terrify any man who ran upon them alone and defenseless, but they couldn’t command veneration like Alles. They both straightened up when they saw Alles approaching and fell silent.
“Welcome General,” the men both said in unison.
“Has your recruiting been successful?” Alles asked.
The two men looked at one another and traded slight frowns before they looked back to Alles and said simultaneously: “We’ve been somewhat successful” and “We’ve gotten a few recruits.”
“Good,” Alles said, “Do better, though. I know this is not the type of job you have been trained for, but this is absolutely necessary. Let me assist, at least.”
Alles then turned around and looked over the crowd and announced in a booming voice: “Citizens and civilians, we are in search of recruits for our army. Your country needs you. Your friends and neighbors need you, in order to protect them against the invading hordes that threaten their lives and their freedom. Do you have enough metal in your heart to take up the burden of this responsibility? Do you? If so, come forth and give us your name and your commitment.”
Within moments of Alles finishing his short soliloquy, several men were already lining up before Rock and Solis. The two soldiers asked each man their name and which clan they belonged to; then they made a mark on a sheet of paper, by which they kept track of the number of recruits; finally they took a cup of ink and dipped the four fingers of the recruit’s right hand into it until the fingers were stained a deep purple.
“Don’t both trying to wash that off,” Solis instructed them after their fingers were stained, “We’ll call for you in two days. So be ready.”
Alles departed soon afterwards, walking towards where he had originally been headed, to the Public House. He walked in through the main entrance. Many people stepped aside and bowed to him as he walked through the colonnade to the Open Table. Off to the right, in a small scriptorium, he found Jesek, the man he was looking for. He saw the young refuge huddled over a paper, which he was copying. It was an official decree concerning the commandeering of horses for the purpose of the upcoming war.
When Jesek saw the general, he stood up. “Sit, please,” Alles said, and grabbed a chair to sit beside him. “I want you to join me again when we march,” Alles said, leaning forward and looking directly into Jesek’s eyes, “You won’t be expected to fight. You’ll remain in the back ranks, assisting with navigation and strategy. Your contributions will be invaluable. I cannot stress that enough. You will of course be compensated generously for your service. But I can’t force you to join on this time. It’ll be entirely voluntary. If you insist on refusing, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. But I very much want you to join us.”
A disarming smile spread across Jesek’s lips as he heard this, and he lowered his face and looked up at Alles with his soulful eyes. “For you Alles, I’d do anything,” Jesek said, “But I’ll have to ask the wife. She makes my decisions for me.” He produced a small laugh to express that he was joking, though he was only partially doing so.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 104
Strya dragged Mill through the streets, through many infrequented back ways and side streets to the point that Mill was so lost and dizzied by the endless turns that he had no idea where they were or to where they were progressing. They skittered through narrow dirt paths between faceless buildings, slipping across short stretches of paved road and darting through patches of grass-strewn yards and parks. As they travelled further and further, the spaces between buildings expanded, the sizes of homes shrank and they crossed, more and more frequently, tracts of farmland of growing size.
“We can’t use any of the roads,” Strya said as they cut across a pasture, moving in the direction that Mill could now clearly identify as summerward, “But I can lead you to where you want to go.”
Mill turned around and looked back at the retreating metropolis of Waldoon, which loomed so high above them. The whole city sprawled over the horizon, with the central citadel poking above the rest of the buildings crowding at its feet.
“I want to go to Orinda,” Mill said to Strya.
Strya only expressed the slightest bit of surprise when he heard this. Though he knew that Mill must surely know this, he felt compelled to explain, “You do realize that it’s dangerous for you to go there? You won’t be able to enter through the main gates, and I can’t help you get past the creature of virtue.” Strya shook his head as he said these things to Mill, who simply nodded in response.
“I’ll take the risk,” Mill said, “I don’t intend to stay. Just to get in and out.”
Mill looked uneasy as he said this, almost afraid, but Strya wasn’t one to interfere with another man’s plans, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “Then I’ll lead you to Orinda.”
“And about that question earlier?” Mill asked, “Why you helped me escape?”
Strya laughed a little after Mill said this and replied, “Well, I had to deliver a message for Anders and I figured the easiest and most reliable way was to deliver it in person. But, you know, after going through all the effort of figuring out where you were, and how to sneak in, and then infiltrating that place and finding your cell and knocking out that guard, it wasn’t that much additional work to help you out. The hardest part was just finding you. So, I figured, why not. Besides, I think Anders would prefer to have you out. I’m pretty sure he’s got something he wants you to do for him in this message.”
Strya pulled the sealed envelope from his pocket and handed it over with the bag of gold. Mill popped open the seal and unfolded the letter, quickly reading through its contents with an ever darkening expression.
“I’ll have to find Erek-Monte and his tribe,” Mill said as he folded the letter.
“You can’t tell me any more about what it says?” Strya jocularly asked, “No fun. As for Erek-Monte and his tribe I haven’t see them in more than a season. You can find them of course. They’re always around, but, since they’re Itinerants, they’re everywhere. By which I mean, they’re nowhere. What I’m saying is, I won’t be able to help you. Though, I will take you to Orinda, as I said.”
Mill then nodded and turned forward, with a wordless gesture of “lead the way.”
In the streets of Lamosa, positioned on all of the most prominent avenues and squares, several recruitment posts had been set up. Usually two or three soldiers who stood in their armor, brandishing weapons and holding the reins of a giant warhorse, staffed these. They shouted repeatedly to the passers by, “Our armies need you, men. To protect our land and keep our borders safe. Do your duty for your clan. Three square meals a day and gold in your pockets,” and so on. The specter of the Fourth Order was frequently invoked and the glory of great General Alles also mentioned.
Solis and Rock had been placed in the Omnian Plaza. With their backs to the Public House and their gleaming swords shining in the sun, they tried to draw in the reluctant peasants in the crowd, who looked curiously at them out of the corner of their eyes but were too apprehensive to approach.
“You there,” they’d point these men out with their swords, “A strong man like you could do our nation proud. With a weapon in your hand you’d single-handedly make our enemies quake.”
“We can’t use any of the roads,” Strya said as they cut across a pasture, moving in the direction that Mill could now clearly identify as summerward, “But I can lead you to where you want to go.”
Mill turned around and looked back at the retreating metropolis of Waldoon, which loomed so high above them. The whole city sprawled over the horizon, with the central citadel poking above the rest of the buildings crowding at its feet.
“I want to go to Orinda,” Mill said to Strya.
Strya only expressed the slightest bit of surprise when he heard this. Though he knew that Mill must surely know this, he felt compelled to explain, “You do realize that it’s dangerous for you to go there? You won’t be able to enter through the main gates, and I can’t help you get past the creature of virtue.” Strya shook his head as he said these things to Mill, who simply nodded in response.
“I’ll take the risk,” Mill said, “I don’t intend to stay. Just to get in and out.”
Mill looked uneasy as he said this, almost afraid, but Strya wasn’t one to interfere with another man’s plans, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “Then I’ll lead you to Orinda.”
“And about that question earlier?” Mill asked, “Why you helped me escape?”
Strya laughed a little after Mill said this and replied, “Well, I had to deliver a message for Anders and I figured the easiest and most reliable way was to deliver it in person. But, you know, after going through all the effort of figuring out where you were, and how to sneak in, and then infiltrating that place and finding your cell and knocking out that guard, it wasn’t that much additional work to help you out. The hardest part was just finding you. So, I figured, why not. Besides, I think Anders would prefer to have you out. I’m pretty sure he’s got something he wants you to do for him in this message.”
Strya pulled the sealed envelope from his pocket and handed it over with the bag of gold. Mill popped open the seal and unfolded the letter, quickly reading through its contents with an ever darkening expression.
“I’ll have to find Erek-Monte and his tribe,” Mill said as he folded the letter.
“You can’t tell me any more about what it says?” Strya jocularly asked, “No fun. As for Erek-Monte and his tribe I haven’t see them in more than a season. You can find them of course. They’re always around, but, since they’re Itinerants, they’re everywhere. By which I mean, they’re nowhere. What I’m saying is, I won’t be able to help you. Though, I will take you to Orinda, as I said.”
Mill then nodded and turned forward, with a wordless gesture of “lead the way.”
In the streets of Lamosa, positioned on all of the most prominent avenues and squares, several recruitment posts had been set up. Usually two or three soldiers who stood in their armor, brandishing weapons and holding the reins of a giant warhorse, staffed these. They shouted repeatedly to the passers by, “Our armies need you, men. To protect our land and keep our borders safe. Do your duty for your clan. Three square meals a day and gold in your pockets,” and so on. The specter of the Fourth Order was frequently invoked and the glory of great General Alles also mentioned.
Solis and Rock had been placed in the Omnian Plaza. With their backs to the Public House and their gleaming swords shining in the sun, they tried to draw in the reluctant peasants in the crowd, who looked curiously at them out of the corner of their eyes but were too apprehensive to approach.
“You there,” they’d point these men out with their swords, “A strong man like you could do our nation proud. With a weapon in your hand you’d single-handedly make our enemies quake.”
Friday, January 18, 2013
Aresan Clan pt 103
When the door finally opened Mill curled up in the corner and hid his face, quivering and weeping with terror. Then he heard a voice, familiar from somewhere beyond Waldoon, asking him, “Mill?”
He peaked out to look and saw, emerging from the shadows, the face of Strya entering the room towards him.
When Strya saw Mill’s face he said, “Thank Anan it’s you. I didn’t want to have to break down another of these doors and I wasn’t entirely sure this was your cell. I guess this means you’re the only Omnian spy they have here.”
Strya was by this point helping Mill to his feet and pulling him towards the door. “Pack your bags, we’re going on a trip,” Strya joked as he pulled him through the door.
Mill stumbled behind him, his legs sore and still not feeling entirely awake. Out in the hallway, he looked to the side and saw a guard lying on the ground unconscious. Strya held onto his hand and jerked at it for Mill to move faster. Ascending the stairs, he practically dragged Mill up them as Mill falteringly followed behind.
At the top of the stairs, Strya halted and peaked down the hall. He held Mill back as he waited for a figure in the distance to disappear. Then he led Mill in the opposite direction and up another set of stairs.
“Aren’t we at ground level already?” Mill asked, groggily and bleary eyed.
“We’re going up,” Strya said, “No good exits down there.”
The stairs they ascended spiraled upwards through a cramped space they had to stoop through. For many steps they climbed, well beyond the point when Mill started growing fatigued. When Strya felt Mill’s energy flagging, he encouraged, whispering to him, “If you don’t want to get us caught, you keep apace.” Mills legs started to ache and his lungs to burn, yet Strya kept on pulling him on without yielding.
They reached the top and Strya pushed through a heavy door. A strong wind was blowing and the air was cool. When Mill stepped out, he saw an impressive view of Waldoon. He looked over the edge and saw that there were several stories between where they were and the ground.
Strya walked over to the far end of the roof, gave a quick look down and then tossed a rope over the edge. He watched the rope unfurl and stop still at a good distance from the ground. He shrugged a little when he said, “I knew it was a bit too short. Oh well, it’ll do.”
Strya turned to look at Mill smiling and said, “I climbed up here without the rope. What a rush. I didn’t think you were too skilled in wall climbing so I brought the rope. You can thank me when you get to the end of it and see how long you have to drop.”
Strya handed Mill a pair of leather gloves. Then, wearing nothing on his hands, he hopped over the edge, holding onto the rope and announced, “Don’t linger.”
Mill had an uneasy sense of vertigo when he looked over the ledge at the ground so far below. But, with a quick prayer to Anan and a few deep breaths he followed Strya over the edge.
Strya moved down at a rapid pace, dropping hand over hand as his feet walked against the wall. When Strya got to the end of the rope, he slipped down as far as he could, with his hands holding just the tip of the rope. Then he let go and dropped the last distance.
Mill could hear him Strya’s hard landing, though he didn’t understand what it signified. He slowly lowered himself, his gloved hands gripping the rope as tightly as he could. His hands grew sore and weak and felt as if they would give way at any moment.
Finally, he reached the end of the rope. He reached out a foot, thinking that it would just touch the ground, but it only met with empty air. He looked down, and saw that he was more than two body-lengths above the ground. He was so shocked at the sight, that he lost his grip and tumbled down through the air. He landed hard in the dirt, his body collapsing painfully to the ground. His legs, ankles and bottom were all sore, though none of them apparently injured.
He thanked Anan again and stood up, seeing Strya already impatiently offering a hand to lead him on.
“Why’d you come to rescue me?” Mill asked in a tone lacking in gratitude.
Strya replied, “Not now. We still have to get out of the city.”
He peaked out to look and saw, emerging from the shadows, the face of Strya entering the room towards him.
When Strya saw Mill’s face he said, “Thank Anan it’s you. I didn’t want to have to break down another of these doors and I wasn’t entirely sure this was your cell. I guess this means you’re the only Omnian spy they have here.”
Strya was by this point helping Mill to his feet and pulling him towards the door. “Pack your bags, we’re going on a trip,” Strya joked as he pulled him through the door.
Mill stumbled behind him, his legs sore and still not feeling entirely awake. Out in the hallway, he looked to the side and saw a guard lying on the ground unconscious. Strya held onto his hand and jerked at it for Mill to move faster. Ascending the stairs, he practically dragged Mill up them as Mill falteringly followed behind.
At the top of the stairs, Strya halted and peaked down the hall. He held Mill back as he waited for a figure in the distance to disappear. Then he led Mill in the opposite direction and up another set of stairs.
“Aren’t we at ground level already?” Mill asked, groggily and bleary eyed.
“We’re going up,” Strya said, “No good exits down there.”
The stairs they ascended spiraled upwards through a cramped space they had to stoop through. For many steps they climbed, well beyond the point when Mill started growing fatigued. When Strya felt Mill’s energy flagging, he encouraged, whispering to him, “If you don’t want to get us caught, you keep apace.” Mills legs started to ache and his lungs to burn, yet Strya kept on pulling him on without yielding.
They reached the top and Strya pushed through a heavy door. A strong wind was blowing and the air was cool. When Mill stepped out, he saw an impressive view of Waldoon. He looked over the edge and saw that there were several stories between where they were and the ground.
Strya walked over to the far end of the roof, gave a quick look down and then tossed a rope over the edge. He watched the rope unfurl and stop still at a good distance from the ground. He shrugged a little when he said, “I knew it was a bit too short. Oh well, it’ll do.”
Strya turned to look at Mill smiling and said, “I climbed up here without the rope. What a rush. I didn’t think you were too skilled in wall climbing so I brought the rope. You can thank me when you get to the end of it and see how long you have to drop.”
Strya handed Mill a pair of leather gloves. Then, wearing nothing on his hands, he hopped over the edge, holding onto the rope and announced, “Don’t linger.”
Mill had an uneasy sense of vertigo when he looked over the ledge at the ground so far below. But, with a quick prayer to Anan and a few deep breaths he followed Strya over the edge.
Strya moved down at a rapid pace, dropping hand over hand as his feet walked against the wall. When Strya got to the end of the rope, he slipped down as far as he could, with his hands holding just the tip of the rope. Then he let go and dropped the last distance.
Mill could hear him Strya’s hard landing, though he didn’t understand what it signified. He slowly lowered himself, his gloved hands gripping the rope as tightly as he could. His hands grew sore and weak and felt as if they would give way at any moment.
Finally, he reached the end of the rope. He reached out a foot, thinking that it would just touch the ground, but it only met with empty air. He looked down, and saw that he was more than two body-lengths above the ground. He was so shocked at the sight, that he lost his grip and tumbled down through the air. He landed hard in the dirt, his body collapsing painfully to the ground. His legs, ankles and bottom were all sore, though none of them apparently injured.
He thanked Anan again and stood up, seeing Strya already impatiently offering a hand to lead him on.
“Why’d you come to rescue me?” Mill asked in a tone lacking in gratitude.
Strya replied, “Not now. We still have to get out of the city.”
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