Chapter
Two: Journey to the West
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The next
day broke cold and clear on the horizon, and the flat surface of the harbour
reflected the rising orange sun. This effect was not just due to the
stillness of the water, but also the sheen of oily waste floating on its
surface. Three humans and an elf commented on this sight from the stern of
the "Wind Song". "I've heard that the Duke actually encourages
merchants to through their waste overboard, just so the harbour will be
famous for at least one thing," said Rodrick. "Surely not!"
Scoffed Malthus, scowling with disapproval. "I would believe it,"
suggested Turadyl, "With humans anything is possible." The tall elf
looked around the ship. The Wind Song was the largest of the three ships
sailing west that day, and Karlos had ensured to it that all of them had been
berthed on it so they all could travel in the maximum amount of comfort. This
included the mysterious Meltar and his young apprentice Alexander. The
commander had stated that the last two were on the Wind Song so an eye could
be kept on them, rather than any concern that they might get seasick. The
apprentice had been on deck since the party's arrival, looking at everything
with an inquisitive eye. His teacher had disappeared to their bunk room
immediately without explanation. Alexander peered over the stern of the ship
for the third time, perhaps trying to understand how it all worked. The
cleric and the warrior excused themselves and left the elf alone with the
boy. "First time at sea?" Turadyl asked. "Yes!" replied
Alexander with real enthusiasm. "I can't believe I'm finally going
somewhere exciting! I've been looking forward to travelling since I became
dux at the school of magic. Part of the reward was to travel for a year with
Master Vladimirov - I mean Meltar," the young
mage coloured. "Is it your first time on a boat too?" He asked. Turadyl's
face changed, his eyes becoming downcast. "No, it is not. I spent the
last two years at sea on a merchant ship. In fact the reason I am here is
that it sunk and almost everybody else was..." The elf stopped, realising
that his history would probably scare the boy and it would serve no purpose
to tell him anyway. He just let his last sentence drift off. Fortunately, it
seemed like Alexander didn't notice. "You
spent the last two years on a boat? Really?" The boy seemed surprised.
"I thought that was unusual for an elf. I mean, most of you live in the
forests, Alfheim? I learnt that in class at least." Again Turadyl
hesitated before answering. "My race can be found in almost ever part of
the world. We are as comfortable in the rigging of a ship as in the braches
of a tree." He didn't add that he had been hurried out of Alfheim only a
year after his birth, and had never been able to return since, but somehow
his tone and voice made his feelings clear. This time the
lad did notice. "Well, good talking to you." The curly haired mage
excused him himself and scurried down below to see his master. This left
Turadyl alone with his thoughts. Looking out over the harbour, to the sea
beyond, Turadyl spent several minutes reminiscing about the years he had
spent with his prior companions before their loss at sea. In a rare moment of
piety he offered a prayer aloud to the elven god Ilsundal, to watch over them
in the after life, even though none of them were of the elven race. Then his
thoughts turned to his homeland and his childhood, and his mood darkened. As
the ropes were cast away in the morning sun, he moved below deck to be alone. Fourteen uneventful
days later the Wind Song made landfall. The land to the West of the Atruaghin
Clans was much harsher compared to the Duchy of Karameikos. The soil seemed
poor and hard packed, with loose spots claimed by small tuffs of grasses here
and there. When Alexander remarked on this, Turadyl informed him that this
was considered one of the most fertile parts of the Kingdom of Sind. During
the trip the elf and the fledgling mage had talked of many things. The boy
always seemed fascinated by the more experienced elf and all that he had seen
and done. Turadyl was over one hundred and fifty years older than his new
friend, but enjoyed his company none the less. Meltar appeared on deck
rarely, and only at dusk. According to Alexander he was suffering from some
serious sea-sickness below deck. Turadyl hoped that was true. Malthus and
Rodrick also come to an agreement during this time. Excluding the cleric's
devotion to his faith, the two of them actually had quite simular attitudes
towards life, being very much in favour of getting things done and not
listening to those in charge too much. The matter of Malthus' vision was not
brought up again, although both new that it was hovering beneath the surface. The troops off-loaded,
and the few professional solders present tried to organise some semblance of
order. This was hindered by the huge downpour that started about ten minutes
after landfall. The mood turned desperate as several hundred men waited to be
organised in the rain with no cover. Thankfully the party was allowed to wait
in the ship till everybody else was moving. Watching from a porthole,
Alexander commented that he thought the country would soon wash away because
the drops were pelting down so hard. As the last few stragglers moved away,
the party joined them and tried to cover themselves as best they can from the
elements. The march inland took
two long days, and things only grew worse. Order fell apart as the rain
continued to drop and the volunteers started to suffer from exposure. There
were many quarrels and disputes. Turadyl saw some men, who until recently had
been peasants from the same village, argue over a dead man's boots. Several
mercenaries got drunk and ransacked a nameless village. Men were knifed as
old feuds broke out. A few signs of battle appear as well, the Karameikan
troops that arrived first having meet a little resistance. On the night of the
second day the force reached a village only recently taken from the enemy.
Among the ruins were the bodies of the nomad enemies - humans, orcs and
other unknown creatures. All five of the 'special visitors' were assigned a
small one room building to share. Turadyl, Malthus and Rodrick had still not
gotten over their initial meeting with Meltar, and found the idea of sharing
a room with him a little disturbing. But it seemed that some of Alexander's friendliness
had worn off on the others, and the mage was allowed in without comment. As
the sun went down, all five of them sat round the fire, wondering what the
next day would bring. "What
are doing here Meltar?" Rodrick asked while licking his fingers, greasy
from the recent digestion of a chicken brought from the east. "I
understand the reasons for the rest of us, but you still haven't explained
yourself. That might help all up us understand exactly why you were in such a
rush to get here than you risked hanging by the Duke's court." If Meltar was
embarrassed he did not show it. The large man smiled in such a way that was
disconcerting. He paused for a long second, as though considering which
answer to give. "My reason for being here is similar to all yours. To
protect the home that we all love." With that comment his gaze rested
hauntingly on Turadyl. "I don't think you need to know much, so I am not
going to tell you much." - Rodrick looked prickly at that comment -
"But lets just say that there are several items in the Sind that we do
not want the enemy to gain possession off. We have contacts here already, and
if I can merely get far enough north to meet them, they could pass the
protected items onto me for safe keeping. Alexander and I would then return
home with them via magical means, where they would be protected for the rest
of the war against this so called 'Master'" Rodrick
raised his head at this, forgetting his earlier annoyance. "I have heard
this 'Master' mentioned before, but don't know if I believe it. Is there
really some powerful being in charge of their army." The fighter gazed
at the mage with his dark eyes. "What do you know that we don't?" Meltar answered
quickly, "Nothing, except that he does exist. Somehow this being,
whether he be a man, beast or worse, is holding this army together." The
mage leaned in, the glowing embers of the fire adding to his mysterious
appearance, "For a thousand year the nomads have roamed the Sind, and
for just as many years they have been disorganised and rarely able to attack
anything bigger than a caravan. Now everything has changed. Somehow the
Master is holding them all together, man and monster, and he will conquer our
homeland if he is not stopped." |