Amarain Dynasty Chp2

Chapter Two

The next few days were long, tiring, and completely uneventful. It seemed this narrow little road would never end, passing field after field which all looked the same to me. It felt as if I was aimlessly lost, going in circles repeating each step after every monotonous step. I still have not seen a single soul, which lead my fanciful thoughts to believe that the final grand battle of them all has already happened and I was the only one left to enjoy the scenery.
However I would enjoy the scenery much more if it had one more tree in it, or if the farmers could grow more than one variety of crops. The similarity in it all was a cage in itself. It turned the freedom I once found in the prairies into a hopeless trap. I had no choice but to continue on in search of civilization, hoping to reach some remotely looking village by nightfall. I didn’t mind sleeping outside, however I had one too many roots reshaping my backside each night.
It seemed like I was beginning to climb a hill, as each step grew tedious under the noon sun. I could see the heat in waves just above the horizon, which was rather odd for a spring day in this part of the mainland. I could expect the hot weather in the desert, but the desert was quite a ways away from where I stood. The wind ceased suddenly, as if the heat had tied it down in its quest for power over the day. It was silent, not a sound to be heard anywhere. Until a lone hawk came from over the hill, screeching in protest, or in announcing his master’s presence as I could hear a wagon slowly approach. It was several moments later till I saw an old man atop a wagon pulled by a little old brown mule appear from over the hill. The hawk, which circled me a few times returned to the old man and perched upon his shoulder.
As the wagon drew closer I could see the old man, his hat covered his eyes but I could see a smile creep on his face as if he found his lost puppy. He pulled on the reins, which halted the mule directly in front of me. His blue coat was weathered to a soft grey with carefully patched tares.
“My boy, you survived that winter I see.” His voice crackled.
It was Master Lin, whom I borrowed the cabin from in the fall. He was no doubt going back for the dry season.
“Master Lin, how far is Ferrol?” I asked petting his mule on the nose.
He started to laugh, “Quite a ways, you’ve past it already. You keep walking in this direction and in another day you’ll reach the Great South Forests.”
Great, the last few days have been a complete waste of time. I had no maps with me, or much money, they all rested in a bank in Ferrol.
“Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get there?” I asked.
The old man nodded, “I can take you, it will be no trouble on my part aiding the Great Cora Aldu once again.”
The Black Fox, or in most mainlander dialects translated as Cora Aldu, a name that has been attached to me for many years. I really disliked it mentioned around me, and even more so directed at me. Brings much unwanted attention. Many authorities and bounty hunters alike would love to get their hands on the much elusive Black Fox. I have never been called great, except in the last year or so. No one dared stand up to the Syeleven. Stories continue travel, much more exaggerated than the ones before. But alas, not much I could do about it. People could believe want they want to, as long as they don’t assume too much from me if they happen to stubble across my presence. Today I shall indulge the old man, my feet ache; thus I greatly need Lin’s help. So without undo fussing I threw myself into the back of the wagon and rested against a bag of oats.
The wagon jerked suddenly then lurched forward at a slow pace set by the mule. The old man began to sing. Many of the songs he sang I did not know, old folk songs in an old dialect of his nation. I titled my hat to cover my face from the relentless sun and was content in hearing the off tune melodies of Lin; as it was much better hearing nothing at all but the crushing gravel under my own feet.
A few moments later I could not hear Lin’s singing, nor the creaking of the wagon. I went to lift my hat, but noticed I had no hat, nor was I in the wagon. I was surrounded by a sea of mist too thick to see anything past my outstretched hand. My hair was long like it had been when I was a child, and a white robe had replaced my black pants and shirt. All of my things were gone. I stood bear foot in the middle of nowhere, what I stood upon I could not tell, though it felt like a sheet of glass.
I called out, though no one answered but my own echo. Then suddenly the mists cleared a bit and I thought I saw a face. I ran after it, but the faster I ran the face was still much too far. It laughed at me; the melodious ring entered my head and bounced around giving me a stifling headache. That laugh, it was familiar as was the face, yet I could not place it.
“What do you want from me?” I screamed, wishing I had something to throw at it.
A body appeared beneath the face, it had matching white robes and long dark hair. She came closer yet she was not solid, I could see right through her. She stopped within a nose length from my own face. It was if I was starring into a mirror.
“I want you!” She screamed at me grabbing a hold of my throat.
Choking, I flailed my arms franticly as I could not get a hold of this ghostly figure. Her eyes were a burning fire as her grip tightened. She kept screaming ‘It should’ve been you’. To what she meant I had no clue, only that this demon was going to be the death of me if I didn’t do anything.
I felt as though I was slipping away, I was weak and could only think of one thing. Destroy evil with evil. I surrendered to another raging outburst, fire and rock burst out of nowhere colliding with the figure. She suddenly disappeared, but the bittersweet joy of victory was short lived. All that rested in my stomach came up, spilling out onto the glass like ground.
I did not feel victorious either; for that face reminded me why I hated to look into the mirror, as it looked just like my twin sister Gwen. She had died about fourteen years ago: the beginning of the end of me.
I had no idea how I was going to get out of this, but as if that thought was the key, the mist disappeared, I was no longer my younger self but back in my black attire. Though my feet did not rest on the ground, but what had been the mist were clouds, and to my horror I was high above the ground, but not ground I realized, water, an ocean.
The glassy floor gave way and I felt my stomach rise to meet my heart. Flailing my arms in some crude attempt to fly I had to laugh at myself at my misfortune. I kept falling. I could not swim, though the impact with the water would most likely kill me instantly. Pain thrashed threw every bone. Then darkness.

“Cora Aldu!” I heard Lin screech, “Are you okay?”
I woke up on the dirt road with Lin attempting to pick me up. The hawk was nervously searching in circles high above me.
“You must have been asleep, the wagon hit an awful bump in the road. You flew quite high off the back on the wagon here.” He checked me over to make sure I had no broken bones, but I quickly brushed him off so he wouldn’t discover the Great Cora Aldu was a woman.
I grumbled admittance that I was alive, more or less. Though it did not relieve me much that it was only a dream. Lin helped me back into the wagon, and this time I sat near the front as to not fly out again. He climbed over me and into the front to take hold of the reins. The wagon persisted forward once more, as did the singing. Though I didn’t mind, but I made sure I did not fall asleep again, at least not until the sun has gone down.

It took four days to reach Ferrol; somehow I had missed a turn in the road that lead north to the capital city of Philantha. The wooden wheels of the wagon clamored against the cobblestones that lead to one of the main gates. The city was known as The Iron Wheel as it was a giant circle with all of the roads leading to the palace at the center like the solid wooden spokes of a wagon wheel. It was the only known city on the continent to have its outer walls made if iron instead of stone.
Lin halted his mule just outside the gate to let me out. I thanked him for his trouble and tossed him a silver coin. He graciously thanked me and turned the wagon around heading back from where we came. His hawk left his shoulder and flew around me before heading out and over the horizon disappearing with the old man.
I spun around on my heels and proceeded to the gates of the city. The thick rusty walls stood at least twenty feet high, only a few towers, besides the ones belonging to the palace could be seen on the other side. Philantha was an interesting nation, as all its buildings were plain and dull, as were its peoples clothing. However the culture was rich and vibrant when festivals came around. They would paint everything in rich warm colours and lace every ledge and corner with flowers. I had lived here on two occasions, and I found it a nice city: for a city that is.
There were no guards at the gates, which I found odd for times like these. However once I entered through the gate, I would say one in every five people amidst the streets wore the light blue coats of the Palace Guard. I’d call it an organized mess, but to each his own, I really did not care for politics as long as it didn’t involve me. I meandered down a few side streets till I came upon a back door of a merchant’s bank. I reached up my sleeve and pulled out a small knife and slid the blade under the latch. Upon hearing the latch release I pushed the door open.
I entered into a small hallway not much wider than myself. I slowly crept down the hallway, which turned to the left and opened out into a large reception area. It was indeed a wealthy bank, as every surface was a white and gray marble. A few nobles sat at long rectangular tables in the middle of the room. A skylight reflected the late afternoon sun across a series of mounted mirrors. I drew much attention being the only dark object present. I recognized a few faces amidst the nobles, but could not recall their names. I wouldn’t bet against the idea of not having cheated them at one point or another. If they happen to send out their personal guards with orders to flay me like a fish, perhaps I will remember their faces. Velcor always put me in charge of the less honorable intentions. Thus I have been wanted dead by at least half of the nobility residing in the Western Conference.
A blonde woman, fairly young, stood behind a counter, her face held some sort of shocked amusement. She quickly disappeared into the back room where just as quick she reappeared with Hugh, the owner of the bank. He was a tall man, very well built who could crush me like a twig if he wanted to. Though the years seemed not so kind to him as I, he had to be the same age yet he looked at least ten years my senior, as what was left of his hair was a snowy white. Though his attire called for his wealth to be far exceeding than what I thought it would have when I helped him buy this place. He had tan leather boots matching tan silk pants, with a light orange vest wrapped over a white shirt with wide billowing sleeves. You could almost call him attractive now.
“Curse the Mother,” He threw up his arms, “Velcor thinks your dead.”
“For then I am a ghost who has come to haunt you.” I replied taking off my hat and coat and throwing them onto the nearest table, exposing my swords that hung from my belts.
He began to laugh, “Good to see you Lucas,” he crossed the room with incredible ease and took my hand in greetings, “Now what brings you back here?”
I let go of his hand and took a seat upon the table, to the disgust of the nobles who upheld the formal behaviour one should present, even amongst friends; pumpions they are. It would probably shock them that I am from nobility, as they seem to think I am the son of a pig farmer for all of the etiquette I appear to possess.
“Well for starters I would like some of my money you so dearly are keeping in your vault, and my maps as well if you haven’t kept them for yourself.” I answered to him with a casual tone as to annoy the stiff-backed nobility angrily eyeing me down.
Hugh rocked on his heels and slid his thumbs into his pockets on his light orange vest.
“You do not trust me?” It amused him to ask.
“I trust you as much as you trust me, those maps are pretty valuable.” I boasted, knowing that Hugh knew I could take him and everything he built up, down; at least that was the Black Fox’s reputation.
Hugh wouldn’t do anything to me unless he was getting a lot in return and was well protected if I was not dead, for I hate betrayers. He grinned and motioned the blonde woman over. She had a nice pale green dress on, one of similarity to a few I once owned myself. He handed her a golden key from which he had on a chain around his neck.
“Ten red, fifty of the silvers, and 100 worth of the paper.” I ordered, which brought concern to Hugh’s face.
“Not going to a bank after this? That’s still not even an eighth of what you have here, but it is still quite a sum of money. You should buy a small army to protect you.” He insisted.
I shook my head, “I’ll be fine, but I’m sure you can tell me which is the safest road to Fasrik these days.”
Creases folded across his forehead, he did not care to hide his emotions, “ The west is not such a good place to be going, especially the southwest,” he began, taking a seat on one of the marble benches, “Syeleven are known to have taken most of Roubahn, its capital as far as I know is still holding out, but it will not be long before they take it over. If I were you, I would go back up north to Velcor, or go to the southeast, oddly the Syeleven are not interested in much of the land out there yet.”
I sat in thought for much of the succeeding time; I was not ready to face Velcor yet, so my only option was east. It was indeed odd that the Syeleven did not have the southeastern countries as the wasteland is connected to them by a relatively low mountain range. Yet it was only a matter of time before they crossed. At the rate they were going it would only be another year before they have the entire mainland. That puts an awful crimp in business.
The blonde woman appeared once again holding a small black leather pouch and a few pieces of folded paper. She gently handed them to me and curtsied before returning to the counter. I opened the pouch and counted ten red, estimated about fifty silver coins, and eyed the folded paper money flipping the edges to add each of the numbers to come to a hundred, then tucked it inside my jacket lying on the table.
I opened one of the maps that held the entire mainland and spread it over my legs.
“Syeleven have the water ways to Cathal,” I stated as getting across Sesseris Sea would prove difficult if every ship in those waters is owned by the Syeleven.
Hugh sighed, “Those people are a nuisance but I am sure some sort of smuggling operation still exists over there,” he mumbled as he popped a grape into his mouth.
Not noticing the platter of fruit on the table before I gladly helped myself to a few grapes of my own. I have been in worse situations before; I will think up something when I get there. I folded the map back into a small little square and stuffed it in a pocket in my vest.
I looked over my shoulder and saw that the nobles were still there mumbling to themselves. They all had pale robes of oranges and reds matching various House colours of the nobility here, which I cared not to learn. Most of them had their hair neatly trimmed to the shoulder with little matching headbands to keep the hair from falling in their faces. It made them look rather childish, but it was a fashion marker that they definitely distinguished themselves from other nobility on the mainland.
They caught me looking at them and their conversation suddenly ceased. I smiled and threw another grape into my mouth and returned my focus on Hugh, who gave a slight chuckle.
“You like antagonizing people don’t you,” he smiled.
“Source of most of my problems, though my life would be pretty boring if I didn’t.” I picked up my hat and tossed it in the air catching it with my head.
Hugh slapped me on the side of the leg, “It’s going to get you killed someday,”
“I’m a ghost remember,” I reminded him, as I have almost been sliced to pieces more than a few times for knowingly insulting people, usually the nobility.
I jumped off the table and grabbed my floor length coat and draped it over my arm. I had to be leaving, especially before Hugh asks me to stay for supper. He is a good man, though quite a tricky one. He was a good ally of Velcor, and if I’m not mistaken still is; since I do not know if Velcor has sent a price over my head, Hugh could easily drug my wine and have me shipped back up north. Now that I have some money I needed to get out of the city far from Hugh’s grasp.
“I can’t stay long my friend,” I stated heading towards the back door from which I entered.
He nodded, standing up from the bench he followed after me, “I take it you are not going back,” he said in a low whisper.
I whipped my coat over my shoulders and fastened a few buttons up, “As I said before, I’m a ghost.”
He smiled and bowed his head in agreement before walking back to the counter. I turned towards the hallway and once I knew they could no longer see me I quickened my pace to the door and pulled it open, re-entering the narrow side street behind the bank. It was a good thing to have these side streets, as many of the rural visitors do not know they exist, thus making it a faster route to moving about the city. Unfortunately many gangs use them as well. One or two would be scared of the Black Fox, but an entire gang would laugh.
It didn’t take me long at all to reach the gates on the other side of the city. The sun was still up, if only just above the horizon for its rays were still penetrating through the sky. I stood just outside the eastern gates of Ferrol, where a few homes rested outside the city walls. Hugh would expect me to stay inside the city tonight; I would be an idiot if I did. I crept to the back of one house where an old abandoned shack rested beside the new and used barn. It would do for the night, as long as it doesn’t rain.
A few old blankets lay folded in a corner; I took them and made a little bed that I guess could be called quaint. Lying down in what felt like a bed fit for a king after sleeping on the ground the past six days, I had no problem drifting off to sleep. As my eyes slowly began to close I watched the last of the sun’s rays disappear over the horizon between the cracks of the old wooden door of the shack.