08-03-2009, 08:31 AM
First few chapters. It's my first large scale piece and I'm thinking of publishing it in the future. My writeing, I think, is stronger than my spriting. 
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1
The sound of clashing swords, the grunts and moans of men, the screaming of woman and children hit me like the mountain winds in summer. I could see the fires through the fabric wall of our tent. I could see the small orange orbs of the invader’s torches flying around on the other side, setting fire to all they touched. My father stood by the entrance flap, his cloak black in the night with only broad bands of red at his wrists and waist adding detail to him. My mother huddled in the far corner of the tent. She was crying and motioning for me to go to her but my feet were frozen, unable to understand what was happening outside but I knew I was afraid. A shout came from outside our home, calling out in a strange foreign language. Something grabbed me from behind and I let out a cry but tried hard to stifle it when I saw who it was. My father lifted me up in his one hand as if I weighed nothing at all and hurled me towards my mother.
“Take him and run as far as you can, now!” He shouted to my mother. She didn’t move, just shook her head, the fire’s reflection turning her tears to gold.
“I said…” He stopped short, eyes wide. Just below his chest protruded the tip of an arrow. My mother screamed but stayed put, frozen in the same state as I. My father moaned, a trickle of blood forming on his chin then fell. That was when my mother’s panic brought her to flee. Grabbing hold of my arm she practically dragged me out the back flap just as one of the strange invaders pushed though the entry flap. He saw us escape and called to his fellows outside. We made for the hills, once there we would lose them for sure, nobody could navigate these hills as well as my people could, I was sure. Two invaders came galloping after us on horseback, four others following leisurely on foot. They seemed sure they could catch us and looking up into my mothers shining violet eyes, she seemed sure they would too. The men on horseback pulled in front of us, shouting insults in their tongue. My mother drew a dagger from her sleeve, hurling it at the one horseman and it landed true in his neck. He fell from his horse, groping at his throat. The other snarled as he turned his horse, his sword held high above his head. My mother tried to do the same to him but the knife hit his shield and fell to the ground. He lunged at her, stabbing her shoulder. With a scream she fell to the ground, clutching her wounded shoulder tightly.
“Mama!” I cried, too young to comprehend the foolishness of the action. I held onto her and stayed, no matter how many times she told me to run. The man who had survived, got off his horse and walked towards where my mother and I lay, sword swinging by his side. He said something to me that I could not understand. My lack of response seemed to anger him, his face turned red. He pointed his sword at me and said the words again but still I couldn’t understand. The others had joined him now, all laughing as if they were strolling in the springtime but their eyes told a different story. One of them pried me from my mother and, with me on his shoulder, began to walk back to the camp.
“Mama!” I screamed as loud as I could. I could see her reaching for me, her face a map of tears and blood. A man stepped in front of my view, sword raised. He turned towards me quickly, almost guiltily then lashed down with it, ending my mother’s pain.
“MAMA!”
I awoke with a start. Sweat pouring down my face.
“’Nother nightmare then, Bea?” A woman said standing at the doorway. It was Scionna the cleaning lady, a pink skinned Lith looking as sly as her namesake.
“Oh, Scionna? I don’t know… I think they’re memories.” I said, still foggy-minded with sleep.
“Dreams or memories, matters little now. Sun’s almost ‘bove the horizon and if the master were to wake without you havin’ started your work, you’ll be in for a good floggin’.” I looked out the window then jumped out of the little hay box I used as a bed.
“Why did none of the others wake me?” I asked, slipping my clean top over my head. We, slaves that is, are only allowed two sets of clothes each and we had to clean them ourselves.
“They did try, they did. You slept as sound as the stones in the fields, you did.”
I smiled, chortling at her southern accent and rushed out the door.
My name is Beahblahd, that much I remember from my past. I am what the locals call a Grey. That is due to my skin colouring, which is light grey. I, in fact, come from the land of Sarrador far to the south and far to the east. I was captured and brought to Callador when I had barely seen three summers. In my fourth summer I was auctioned off for five hundred Air, which is only half an Or! A single sheep sells for more. I considered myself a handsome young man for my race, two other Sarradorians worked here and they were older than I by at least fifteen summers and their looks showed it. My hair was cut short, for long hair is a sign of independence here, and it was a fine white in colour with a light golden shine to it. My eyes were violet like my mother’s, or so I believed. The looks of someone in a dream may differ from reality. My features were finely chiselled like most Lith’s are but there was something else, many of the other Greys said that I looked like a nobleman. This I laughed at, saying the truth, as I knew it. I was a simple tribes boy spirited away into slavery, nothing noble there. Ha ha…
I had to find out what my work was for the day and that meant finding the slave handler. The sun had almost risen above the hills in the east and I knew that the master would be waking soon. Everyday the master Lord Geoffrey Al’Feir (a common surname around these parts) after his breakfast would come to check on all the slaves to see that they were all doing their chores, those who were not or those who were but not doing it well enough were flogged. Unfortunately I have the bad habit of daydreaming and have often met either his stick (he almost broke my back once…) or his whip (the cold line of pain from that still chills me). In all he was a good man, treated us well until we did something wrong. He fed us, gave us shelter, bought us clothes… The list goes on and that is how we were trapped, making us feel guilty at the mere thought of deserting him. He never paid us, of course. That would give us power and drain him of income. I found the slave handler by the stables, a gruff-looking man with one eye closed by a scar that cut right down from his brow to his nose. John Al’Gabh (Another common surname but not so common here as the master’s) was his name, his brutish looks belying his almost never-ending supply of good humour. He was a man who liked to have a good drink, get in a good fight and end it all with a good laugh.
“Bit late ‘ent you today, Bea?” He said, everyone calls me Bea for short.
“Slept in a bit today. You know what I have to do today?” I asked, breathing deeply from my rush here but almost choking on the heavy smell of horse manure.
“Honesty’s always the best policy I say and a good bit of extra sleep does no one harm. The boss wanted you to muck out the stables then help on tilling the land; the First Seed Festival is tomorrow you know.”
“First seed already? Gosh! Unlike you, us slaves are stuck working here with no breaks. I hadn’t even realised New Year had come and gone.” I laughed.
“Hah, you joker you. But you’ve got visitors today, real high stuff too.”
“Visitors? High stuff? What do you mean John?” I had never had visitors before. I wondered if I had done something wrong.
“Evokers in fact. Said they were looking for a Grey by the name of Beahblahd. Don’t think you’re in trouble though, to all appearances it seemed they wanted to buy you! The master told me to get you ready, dressed in real clothes.” I was stunned, why would Evokers want to buy me? I, who am nothing but a simple slave. I, who do my job, maybe daydream a bit but I get it done. I started to have images of me training with them, me becoming an Evoker, protecting the peace by magic and sword… John brought me back to reality.
“Thought I’d lost you for a second there boy. One of these days that daydreaming of yours will get you killed. Now come on, lets find you something to wear.” He said.
I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of my grand imaginings and followed him back to the master’s house.
The two Evokers who apparently wished to purchase me were the Lady Sophia De’Aleasa and the Lord Eabhar De’Alcalla (both very uncommon names). Both were humans in the common use of the word (meaning they weren’t Lith) yet Eabhar carried a Lith forename. The master was in deep discussion with the two when I was presented to them.
“A very fine set of attire to squander on a slave.” Said Lady Sophia, her voice beautiful yet painful and cold at the same time. The master glared at me for a moment then forced a smile.
“Only the best for my slaves, Lady Evoker.” He stuttered slightly.
“Really? The poor wretches outside didn’t seem to adorn the garments this one carries and he’s a Grey too.” Commented Lord Eabhar, his voice the epitome of nobility. I didn’t like the emphasis on Grey.
“Pardon Lord Evoker. I did not mean to offend, I just wished him to look good in your presence.” Master Al’Feir seemed to be almost grovelling, hardly the powerful man with the whip I knew.
“Lady Sophia, do you think this one is the one we seek?” Lord Eabhar asked
“I cannot be sure. He seems about the right age and the similarity is there though that could be my racial ignorance, they do all look alike to me.” My fist automatically clenched at the insult but I knew better, my short temper had gotten me in trouble often enough. I took a few deep breaths then continued listening.
“Yes I know but can you sense anything?”
“No. But I am amazed at how he could have the same name.” She turned to me.
“Boy, tell me. What is your name?” She asked. Again the derogatory emphasis made me heat up.
“My name is Beahblahd Al’Bhai.” I said, using the surname given to me by the master. “Hm… Little Flame the Slave. I have no doubt that Al’Bhai is not your name of birth. Can you not remember your own?” From what I knew Greys did not use surnames and before becoming a slave I did not have one.
“No my Lady…” She cut me off with a snarl.
“I am no Lady of yours, Grey filth. You shall refer to me as Lady Evoker.”
“My apologies Lady Evoker. I cannot, I was stolen while I was very young.”
“Stolen were you?” She snickered; I was really beginning to hate Evokers. “The throne of Calladun cannot steal that which belongs to it. All belongs to the king in the end, remember that Grey.”
“You say you were young. That means you cannot even be sure that Beahblahd is your real name.” Lord Eabhar could see where this was going to lead and I must say I was grateful he cut in.
“No, I cannot Lord Evoker but I have lived by that name my entire memorable life so that name is as real to me as can be.” Eabhar looked at me then, something strange about the way he frowned.
“You hold yourself like a nobleman and you talk as though you think you are one. That is very unusual in slaves.”
“With all respect Lord Evoker, I hold myself as I am. I have held myself like this my entire life and until my back gives way through age I shall continue to hold myself like this.”
“Interesting… Lord Al’Feir, you say he has been like this all the time you have had him?”
“That he has, Lord Evoker. But he works the work of two men even when he’s daydreaming so I let him get away with his attitude often enough.” Master Al’Feir said. Lady Sophia had crossed her arms and looked as though she was feeling left out. To me she seemed less the noble Lady than she did a spoilt little girl not getting her way, her earlier icy coolness vanished.
“So Beahblahd, do you know why we are here asking you these questions?”
“No sir, Lord Evoker.” I really didn’t but I guessed someone with my name was very important.
“Sophia, is he the one or not?” She glared at Lord Eabhar.
“I doubt it, let us leave this stinking farmhouse.” She grumbled. Lord Eabhar sighed and held out a hand to Master Al’Feir.
“Good fortunes to you Lord Al’Feir. Perhaps we shall meet again, the Plains of Min is only so large and there can’t be many Beahblahds living as slaves in the region.”
“Perhaps Lord Evoker. Best of luck to you as well.” With a wave of his hand, Master Al’Feir had me removed by his maids who took me to change out of the clothes I had borrowed. I felt kind of depressed; my imagination had let my expectations rise. Like John said, one of these days my imagination would probably get me killed.
2
I couldn’t decide on just how I felt that afternoon. I was sad that my hopes had not been realised but after meeting the two Evokers I was thoroughly relieved as well. It was plain to see that they did not wish to enrol me into their caste but then again… What did they want? I was sitting on top of the stable roof, if I were to be caught by the master I was sure to be flogged but why would the master come to the stables at this time? The sun was setting low over western horizon. Seemingly endless grassy flats lay that way towards the Dhrai Sea broken only by a few farms. What did I know of Evokers anyway? I was a slave, except for the basics on how to read and write I knew practically nothing of the outside. Sure Scionna smuggled in some of Master Al’Feir’s books now and then but those were mostly about farming, plants, herbs, animals and the like. Only a couple of basic history books provided any interesting reading and they were completely biased in favour of Callador. Perhaps I’m some long lost king I thought. Perhaps… Perhaps… Perhaps! That word went through my head far too often. I needed some sort of certainty about myself, some grounds to my dreams. I was so involved in myself that I almost failed to notice the shape moving beneath the stables. It was a strange thing, human in shape but not quite. As it moved into the light I gasped in horror. John had told me he thought he saw someone who looked like one the day before but couldn’t be sure. This was a Cortar, Human or Lith by day but ferocious vampiric demon by night. If I were to call out it would surely turn on me, in fact I was amazed it hadn’t smelt me yet. I licked my finger and held it in the air, thankfully I was down wind and anyway I doubt it could tell since I stank of horse manure. It was making its way towards the slave quarters. They often preyed on the farms to the far south around Diabhsui but rarely this far north, not since before I was brought here. Evokers and a Cortar in one day, almost too much adventure for me… Almost. I quietly snuck down from the roof and grabbed a shovel. Gosh! It was far larger than I thought, almost double my height. Moving as quietly as I could, I tried to get within range to strike at the beast. I had raised the shovel to slam down on its’ head but just as I had begun to tense my arms it turned and stared right into my eyes. I couldn’t read any emotions in its’ bat like face but I’m sure it was surprised. You had to go play hero didn’t you! I thought to myself, now you’re going to be killed or worse turned into a vampire. Idiot! Idiot! IDIOT! Just then the Cortar did the exact thing that I didn’t expect it to do. With a snarl it pushed past, my arm turning cold where it touched me, and ran off into the darkness leaving me standing there feeling more than a little foolish. After what felt like an hour I lowered the shovel from above my head and, still shivering, went to bed.
I didn’t sleep much that night, nor had I wanted to but the affects of my encounter reversed during the day and I had to mentally and physically force myself to stay awake and do my work. What had the Cortar been looking for? I hadn’t told anyone about the encounter, who would believe me? Who would really believe that I stood face to face with a Cortar at night and survived? I didn’t believe it. In their human or Lith state Cortars had bright blue eyes and pitch black hair, their skin white as snow (not that I’d ever seen snow but I hear it’s really white). Sometimes people are just born looking like that but they’re quickly either burnt at the stake or buried alive. As you can guess most of Callador’s populace is fair haired and dark eyed with only the occasional brunettes. I had spent the day sowing seeds for today, the tenth of Atan, was the First Seed Festival. Tonight Master Al’Feir would be off to Calladun with his wife and two sons. There they would celebrate the true beginning of spring with large kegs of beer and other less socially correct forms of alcohol and narcotics. We, the slaves would see none of it of course. For us today is a day much like any other day. Tomorrow John may smuggle us in a few kegs of beer to enjoy that night but we couldn’t really afford to be hung over the day after with all the work we had. Fortunately I was physical labour and unless something special needs attending to then I can sleep my eight hours through but the house staff often had chores that went deep into the night, their work easier but their workload heavier. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight I would be on the look out for the Cortar. I knew that if I encountered it again tonight I would probably not be so lucky as last night but if I didn’t do anything… The thought was too horrid to register. It was decided, I’d stay on the stable roof and wait all night if I had to.
Nothing! Absolutely nothing! I was starting to wonder if it hadn’t been a dream. A Cortar this far north, not trying to eat me at first glance? Impossible! Absolutely impossible! I’m not sleeping enough, that’s my problem, making me hallucinate. I told John very plainly that there was no way, even if a hundred Cortars dragged me with Al’Feir whipping me as well, that I was going to work that day. I returned to my makeshift bed but was soon called out by John.
“I’m sorry mate, the master just wouldn’t listen. He wants you to go tell ‘im yourself. Don’t worry I’m sure once he gets a good look at you he’ll let you rest, he’s not that cruel.”
I dragged myself to the area around the flogging pole where I had no doubt the good master was waiting. He was but fortunately I really did look as bad as I felt.
“By the angels Bea, you really do look like you came face to face with a demon.” He looked generally worried. You’re close enough, I thought, try face to face with a vampire.
“I’ll let you rest the rest of today but Bea, you know how understaffed I am as it is. I need you, tomorrow even if you’re still like you are now you’re out in those fields. You understand?”
“Yes Master.” All I needed was sleep, I’ve hardly missed a nights sleep in my life. Being a slave you need every second possible.
“You slaves bring in the money and if you don’t then there’s no food. Now go on, get some sleep.” Was that a threat I heard behind his concern? Either way he was right, I’d be letting the others down if I didn’t push my weight.
“Yes Master, I will Master.” Was all I said before I dragged myself back to bed.
I did feel much better the next day and the day after that and the next. I heard from John that there had been many sightings such as mine and that a number of farms were hiring guards to put a stop to this terrible yet strangely non-violent beast. I told him of my encounter and he gave me a good whack over the head.
“You fool!” He had said. “You can’t kill a Cortar with a shovel! You’re lucky this ones a pig sucker.”
This baffled me.
“What do you mean by a pig sucker?” I asked.
“Some Cortars retain enough of their human or Lithian mind to feel sick at the thought of drinking human blood but they have to find a way to satiate their blood lust. Pigs work a treat and aren’t smart so the Cortar doesn’t have to feel guilty. Been plenty of pigs going missing to support the theory too.”
“Lucky we don’t have pigs then. Why try and kill it then?”
“It’s still stealing and what it is, is enough of a reason for it to die anyhow.”
“I feel bad for it still.”
“Don’t.” He said rather harshly, I think, than he intended. “Pig blood ain’t good enough for long and they eventually go berserk, killing anything they can. Eventually sometimes even eating away at themselves.”
“I always thought Cortars were immortal…” I said, already doubting my words.
“They’re not, they live longer than us, sure, but nothing escapes time.”
“You sound like the words in books.” I said in awe.
“You must remember I spent hours in the Royal Library in Calladun.” He liked to boast that fact knowing I’d do anything for a chance to see the Royal Library, almost anything…
The moon had gone through all its’ forms and a bit and it was time for Tirgadh, the Wolves War Festival. People would build huge fires with homemade wolves at the centre in celebration of the driving out of all the werewolves many hundreds of years ago. We would not however…
I awoke to the sound of swords clashing, dreading the dream I was sure to come but didn’t. These swords were real and close by. I stumbled over to the door and peered over the shoulders of my roommates to see what was going on. It was light out already, it seemed I had slept in again. There were a group of soldiers in battle with a single man. He was outnumbered twenty to one yet fought them off as easily as if he faced one. His cold blue eyes fell on me and widened. With a mighty leap he bounded to the top of the stable’s roof.
“There’s the one you really want!” He yelled, his voice thick with madness or exertion or both. “He’ll put an end to you all. Kill him now before he brings about the fall of Callador!” None of the soldiers turned my way. I looked up at the man, he was a Lith but with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as the sky. I realised with a start that this must be the Cortar I had met earlier in the season. Why he was saying I’d put an end to them all made about as much sense as everything else that had happened this year. All of a sudden a sword appeared out of nowhere, cutting right through his heart and ending his life instantly. Standing above the corpse was Lord Evoker Eabhar De’Alcalla, sword in hand and looking straight at me.
“Men, arrest that young Grey in the slave quarters!” He shouted. What! I thought, panic surging up my spine. The soldiers turned to me with swords raised, I couldn’t see a way out this time. I was about to give in when something knocked all the soldiers to the ground. I looked for the source of the blast and my eyes fell on John, standing sword raised upwards pointing at Lord Eabhar.
“Lord Evoker, may I be so bold to ask what you want with my innocent young friend here?” He seemed as noble as the Evoker at that moment.
“Is that John Al’Gabh? Why I haven’t seen you since you were expelled. What in the angels names are you doing here?” Lord Eabhar looked unperturbed by John.
“I was never expelled and anyway you haven’t answered my question, what is it you want with Bea?”
“He is a threat that must be dealt with.” A threat? Me? How?
“In what way is he threatening you Eabhar? Scared of a slave are you?” John smirked.
“Do not use my name so commonly, filth! Stand aside now or I will kill you myself.” Eabhar’s calm seemed to be beginning to slip. Was I so important? A strange flash of pride swept through my fear. I should help John but how? I didn’t have a weapon and even if I did I wouldn’t have a clue of how to use it. An explosion sent me flying backwards with the other slaves all falling on top of me. I couldn’t see what was happening outside but I could certainly hear it. It sounded as though a thousand men were waging war in the stables. Beyond the clash of steel I could hear the horses whinnying their panic. An arm grabbed me and pulled me away to the back of the slave quarters. I never saw at the time who it was but I assume it was John trying to shove me through the window. I bashed my head on the sill quite hard and all went dark.
3
I awoke to a loud thumping and flashing lights, soon realising it was all in my head and the pain swept over me like a tidal wave. I was lying in between two haystacks with a torn cloth under my head. I heard movement and tensed, suddenly remembering the earlier events. It was John and I sighed in relief.
“You awake, then? We’re in the fields of the Al’Hyrde plantation. I’ve covered our tracks as best as I could but we’ll need to get moving. Evokers ain’t easily lost.” He said while helping me up.
“But…” I trailed off, shook my head then said again. “But why?”
“Feed me to the Demons if I know. They’re scared of you’s all I can see.” We were running now, south towards the Armon River.
We stopped for breath. We still had to pass through two farms before we could reach the river and no doubt Eabhar would have guards looking for us on the way.
“We’ve got no choice, we’ll have to stop for supplies in Calladun.” John announced. I looked at him.
“We can’t go into the capital when we’re being hunted by the guards, they’ll be everywhere in there.”
“We’ll swim in by the river, it should be night by the time we’re there. If my knowledge of the Evokers is good enough, and I dare say it is, then I think this will not have reached the greater masses of soldiers yet.” I remembered now what Lord Eabhar had said and looked at John in a new light.
“You were an Evoker once, weren’t you?” I asked. He seemed to sag at that, when he faced me there was a look of great sorrow in his one good eye.
“Aye that I was. That is, until the incident that cost me my eye .”
“How did you lose it?” I couldn’t recall ever asking, while on the farm it seemed that was just how he had always been.
“Once we find someplace safe I may tell you but for now we must get into Calladun.” He began moving again and with a nod of agreement, even though he wasn’t looking, I followed.
We had a number of close calls that afternoon before reaching the Armon. Once we were passing through a field of sheep that began to bleat at our passing, setting off the owner’s dog and the owner himself. The owner, obviously having not heard of the Cortar’s death, alerted the soldiers that had been on lookout. We were over the fence by that time and darkness had just fallen. A few other trivial but equally dangerous occurrences happened but each we got through basically undetected though John said it would not be hard for an Evoker to track us. We reached the river and began to wade in the shallows, fortunately the first heavy rains had not yet come and the river ran slowly enough. It stank though, really badly and John attributed this to the sewage from the city.
“Buckets of piss and crap just dumped into the rivers with who knows what else. It’s worse in the winter when the water is still, you can hardly breathe near the banks.” His face twisted in disgust, both of us trying hard not to notice the things that floated past. The river’s banks here were high and John told me that if we were to enter the city unnoticed we would have to, unfortunately, stay in the river. The city walls of Calladun stretched far and encircled half of Loch Stell and for an invading army it’s towering walls made it almost impossible to siege. We would use, according to John, the thieves’ entrance which would cost us about 50Air each or so it would’ve, hadn’t John been a high ranking member of the Laren De’Algadai, the Guild of thieves. His training as an Evoker had made the difficult tasks set for initiation into the Guild seem like child’s play. Once we reached the wall John took us around to one of the smaller tunnels, one without a grill protecting it from intruders. Inside an old Lith and two very large men were sitting around a candlelit table, all three stood as we entered.
“Beando Danamarei.” John called out, focusing on the old Lith.
“John? Beando kimo kara,” Greetings my friend, “what brings you to these pleasant smelling parts? And who’s the Grey?” Said Danamarei.
“I need some help, Danam. My friend here’s gotten himself in a spot of trouble with the Evokers.”
“Evokers you say? And why should I risk my neck by letting you bring him through my sewers?”
“’Cause you owe it to me, how many times did I get you out of trouble?”
“I’m only playing with you, you one eyed fool. Ha ha.” His laugh sounded more like a dry cough, working in these conditions for someone so old couldn’t be healthy.
“Go on through, you know the way as well as I. Good luck to you John, don’t get yourself killed over a Grey.”
While we were walking John turned to me and said, “Don’t let his talk of Greys get to you, there are some in the guild in any case. He’s just old fashioned.” I silently acknowledged this with a nod of my head. The tunnel was lit with torches and the air was thick with smoke, the walls covered with algae.
“There’s almost an entire other city down ‘ere. Can buy anything you want at the market for lower prices than up top. It takes a bit of getting used to, the smell I mean, but after that it can almost be fun.”
“How much further?” I asked, barely able to hide my gagging.
“Not much.” A dark robed figure past us, and John nodded a greeting but not receiving one in return. “Secretive bunch these, almost as bad as them bloody Tokara. Only those lower down or really high up like to be known.”
“I’ve always considered theft to be wrong.” I muttered, glancing back at the robed figure. If John had heard he didn’t show it.
“Danamarei knows them all though, he does. He used to live on the isle of Horomer, it’s where I met him.”
“The Sacred Isle? You’ve been to Horomer?” He had my attention at that word and I almost forgot about the sewer’s stench… Well, not quite.
“Of course! It’s the Evoker’s headquarters. I met Danamarei in the Varendan desert. His name means the Desert Horse and by all the Angels was he a bandit to be reckoned with! Not even we, the Evokers, could catch him. He would have made a powerful Evoker had things been different…” John trailed off sadly at that and I didn’t push him further.
“Here’s the city, where all the poor wretches live. Some of ‘em ain’t even in the Guild but Prion De’Gadai, he’s the boss man around here, lets ‘em hang around anyhow. ”
I looked around at the changing surroundings. The tunnel had widened considerably, with holes dotting them from time to time. Around and inside these holes sick, sullen faces watched our passing, the smell here a thousand times worse.
“Poor bastards…” Muttered John, “By day they beg for money and food up top, and by night they rot down here. This is no life.” The tunnel began to narrow again but people still lay sleeping (Some, I must say, I wasn’t to sure about…) or lay propped up on their elbows staring at us.
“Why don’t they do something for themselves?” I asked.
“They do all they can. They’re mostly too diseased or weak to be slaves and too poor to buy their health. Poverty is rampant in the cities, all the jobs taken by the slaves.”
“Doesn’t the King see that?” I asked bewildered by the failings of the system.
“Of course he does but does he care? No, all he cares about are the nobles and himself. If slavery were to be abolished then they would be ruined. They would have to pay to get things done.” He shook his head, laughing sadly.
“So you’re against slavery? Then why become a slave master?” It seemed very ironic.
“I didn’t start out as one. Around the time they bought you I was Al’Feir’s personal guard. I needed the money, badly. When you came along you gave us real problems, no matter how often he beat you. He said he’d pay me more if I took the job and took care of you, so I did.” I shuddered remembering my punishments, whips and clubs didn’t hurt a child’s soul as much as fists, feet and words.
“So,” I said, returning to the previous subject, “It’s the comfort of the nobleman that will eventually ruin the Kingdom. Do you think that means my people will be free?”
“To be blunt, I really doubt it; in fact I think things will be worse. You see the nobles see slaves of their own race disturbing, not too disturbing but enough so that they need to seek difference of kind for peace of mind. Since the end of the Sarradoran crusades Greys have become the common image of slavery and once the Kingdom falls all those who lost jobs to slaves will take it out on your people.”
“That seems unfair.”
“I know that, but that’s how it is.” He was shaking his head.
We didn’t speak for about half an hour after that. He had said the market would not be much further but it was a long way off from when and where he had said that. The tunnel began to widen like it had at the living area, but this time wooden tables lined the sides. Each table had a different variety of product, from swords and armor to paint and building materials. Anything you could imagine was available for barter here. However, we had hardly walked five steps into the market before men in hooded cloaks surrounded us, each brandishing a black bladed short sword with white runes from the tip to the hilt. John reached for his sword but did not draw.
“John Al’Gabh? The Prince wishes to speak with you.”
4
The Prince! Were these Evokers? How could we be caught so fast? John must have seen my reaction because he put his hand on my shoulder and said:
“Be calm Bea, the Prince of Thieves obviously missed me while I was gone.”
“But how…” He raised his hand, palm facing me.
“There are other ways of talking than just the mouth, Bea.” So it wasn’t the Prince of Callador.
“These men are the Dublana, Prion’s own royal guard you could say. They shouldn’t harm us. I’ve done nothing against the Guild, Have I?” His query aimed at a Dublana with a gold band on his or her arm, I couldn’t tell the gender or race in this light.
“Nothing wrong, no.” It was a man but his voice soft and melodic, not fitting at all with his attire. “The Prince wishes only to talk to you about a certain acquisition of yours.”
“To be frank mates, I haven’t a bleeding clue what you’re on about. But I guess we’ve no choice, am I correct?”
“That you are, Al’Gabh sir. Now, if you shall be kind enough to follow me.” I could sense clearly that they were willing to use force if necessary, despite all their politeness. The one with the gold wristband turned and the others seemed to fade away as if they had never been there at all.
“John… Where did the others…” I didn’t finish for a large stairway suddenly seemed to crash down from the ceiling. Our guide faced us and gestured up the stairs. John carried on walking but I was quite spooked. Not only had I seen things I would never have believed possible that day but that those very things were within walking distance from where I live. Used to live, I reminded myself. I couldn’t see myself going back again now, not after all this. I could see now that the stairs were connected to two large chains and that there was someone above, by a wheel and lever, who must have lowered it. It was a fancy set up and I couldn’t imagine how rich the man who owned it had to be. The room above was a stark contrast to the dank sewers below and I felt slightly guilty that I was walking on the beautiful carpet with muddy boots. The walls were painted bright white with golden border. The carpet was a dazzling red and everything just seemed to radiate an air of royalty. Out the window I could see it was still night and only then wondering how it could be so bright inside without any candles. It must be some sort of magic, I thought, none of the light spilt outside. It was as if it had hit a brick wall. We carried on down the hall until we came to a large varnished wooden door. Our guide, the Dublana with the golden wristband, knocked four times each one echoing down the hall. There was no answer that I could hear but the Dublana pulled the door open with a grunt, motioning for us to enter, we did so. The room inside was far grander than anything I had ever seen. Great murals of ancient horizons and battles long ended, of Angels and Demons, of foreign cities or beautiful Lith maidens. John caught my wide-eyed stare and chuckled.
“All this was stolen of course.” He said, flicking his long hair out of his eyes.
How could a thief live so grandly? It just didn’t seem right, didn’t seem fair but what in this day and age did? There was another Dublana on this side of the door, this one had two gold bands. The room, for all its’ extravagance, wasn’t very large. At the far end of it was a large golden throne, seemingly unoccupied.
“If you shall be kind enough to wait for a moment. The Prince prefers to evaluate his guests first.” The Dublana said politely (though the emphasis on guests disturbed me).
“That will be fine, thank you.” John said to the Dublana, “Prions right there on the throne, normal folk wouldn’t be able to see him but with my Evoker training I can see him as clear as day.” He said leaning to me. I could only see an empty chair, no matter how hard I looked. We must have waited for ten minutes at least before Prion shimmered into view. I let out a gasp, what he was surprised me more than his magical appearance should have. The Prince of Thieves was a Grey!
“Greetings, John my old friend. Your ward seems a little startled.” The voice was like low but moving music. He was tall, far taller than I or John and his skin seemed to be almost a reddish grey. His hair was creamy in color and his eyes were a deep purple.
“Greetings oh Prince. To what do we owe this visit?” John replied, moving straight to the point as usual.
“Well you see, one of my men has come into possession of a very important writ, ordered by the Evokers even.”
“And what, may I ask, has that to do with us?”
“The writ orders the detainment of a slave which may be in the city. The slave apparently is wanted for the murder of an unknown farmer and here you waltz into my domain in possession of a slave that matches the description perfectly.”
“I didn’t murder anybody!” I said before I could stop myself. He looked down at me sullenly.
“Can you prove your innocence? Tell me your name and if you are not the one I shall know.”
“Don’t say a thing,” John gave me the look he gave when he felt I’d done wrong. I knew not to say more, if I could help it. “You know very well you can’t touch a fellow Gada’s possession. Writ or no writ, it’s your law.” Prion smiled, his teeth dazzlingly white and his canines seemed sharpened.
“You’re quite right there John. The writ still stands though and I would like to know why Evokers would be interested in a simple farm murder case. The slave’s name is Beahblahd, is it not?”
“Yes it is. When were you informed about the writ?” John asked.
“My man came into possession of the writ on the ninety first day of Kudan and the Evokers have been pestering him since.”
“So your man’s a Beirin? He good enough to be named?”
“He’s one of the best, even I must admit and I am the best. He goes by the name of Karos’Tir, does his work quietly and quickly. There is one odd thing about him I must add.” He gazed towards the ceiling as though contemplating if we should really know.
“So, what is it that’s so odd about the bloke?”
“He’s a vampire.”
“A what?” John and I gasped in unison.
“You heard right, he is a vampire, Cortar if you prefer the common name. He’s quite a fellow I must say though, used to be Diunain. Heir apparent to a minor dukedom in Morromon before he was given his, how should I say it, gift?”
“John you think that Cortar the Evoker got was the same one?” I asked, remembering the long mad look on the beast’s face.
“Can’t say for sure.”
“Back to the subject now, John my friend. Why does the King’s elite want their hands on a slave?” Impatience was making a small amount of leeway in Prion’s tone.
“I really can’t say, oh Prince. A Cortar, perhaps your Karos’Tir, shouted out, before the good Lord Evoker gutted, him that Beahblahd would kill us all or somethin’ to that effect.”
“And you were just going to hide down here like the beggars until they stopped looking?” Prion pulled his head back slightly.
“I was thinkin’ of heading east, maybe crashing in Irebra for awhile, always wanted to see the Hollow Mountain and the caves around those parts. Bea could help me as a free man.” This was the first I’d heard of the plan. Irebra? That was so far away from… From what, Home? I didn’t have a home anymore or ever before now that I come to think of it.
“You of all people should know that they’ll find you eventually. They are Evokers, they’ve crossed the Ierthea Sea to catch those they’re after and I’m sure their magic will lead them down here and that I can’t have. Rest up for tonight here in my villa, I’ll pay for your supplies. But I want you out of my territory by noon tomorrow. Leave me now, if you’re lucky you might catch a few hours sleep.”
“We are forever in your debt, oh Prince.” John gave a small bow, which I imitated, and then turned to follow the Dublana with the gold wristband to our rooms.
Me, having been a slave my entire life, was purely amazed at the level of comfort I felt when lying in the large soft bed and it was not long before I began to drift into an exhausted sleep. My body rested well, however I cannot say my mind enjoyed the same luxury. My mind began to sink back into those grey sands I knew so well yet not at all. I was wondering alone in the dunes, stumbling often and sinking knee deep into the volcanic sand. I had the urge to go somewhere but couldn’t think where that somewhere was so I kept up my trudge through the wastes. You could hardly call it a desert, life was everywhere but all of it the same grey as the sands. A large rat scurried after a strange insect with hundreds (so it seemed) of legs. A snake made its winding way up a tall thin tree, stopping once at the top to watch my slow but steady march to wherever I was marching to. The sky was completely overcast but I knew that those clouds held no water, only dust. An old man suddenly appeared to be walking next to me (How he came to be walking next to me? I couldn’t say, I’d learnt long ago to stop trying to explain the occurrences in my dreams).
“Beahblahd Al’Diain, your tribe calls to you. Omragria calls to you.” He said, his voice as cracked and dry as the land.
“Who? Why me, I’m just a slave?”
“Omragria needs you, she calls to you. Why won’t you listen?”
“What in the bloody name of the Angels do you think I’m doing now? Answer me so I can understand what I’m listening to. Who is Omragria?”
“Follow the call Beahblahd Al’Diain.”
“For the Angel’s sake…
“…Why?” I woke with a start, screaming out the last word. John leapt out of bed with his sword drawn.
“Bea, what’s wrong?” He looked sharp and focused, completely unlike someone who’d just jumped out of bed.
“I’m… I’m sorry I woke you John. It was just another dream.” I hung my head shamefully.
“It’s fine, it’s almost dawn anyhow. See the suns rising, the Angels have blessed us with another day.”
“John, I think we should head for Sarrador.”
“Sarrador? What Demon would posses you to want go there? It’s on the other side of the bleeding continent!”
“It’s my dreams John. They’re all about Sarrador. I want to return where I belong.” I could feel tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“I can’t promise that I’ll follow you there Bea, but once we reach Irebra I’ll be sure to point you in the right direction.” He laughed and turned to make his bed.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Sarrador is nothing but rock and ash with the occasional pool of lava. What does it look like in your dreams?”
“Grey, lots of grey hills. A few grey trees…”
“That’s where you get it wrong. There are very few trees in Sarrador, very few and those that are there are the strangest things you could ever lay your eyes on. Big sacks of acid, and long vine like arms. They’re predators you know? Feast off the rock rats and anything else small enough to eat.”
“There were rats in my dream. There was this old man as well, he kept on saying Omragria was calling to me. That she needed me”
“Omragria, eh? Never heard of her. Could just be wishful thinking.” He laughed, one eye twinkling in the dawn light.
“I guess you’re right. So, what supplies will we be needing for our journey east?”
“We’ll need a couple of horses to ride and food sufficient to reach Gormscot…”
“Isn’t Gormscot in the south?”
“Yeah, it is. Once we reach there we’ll turn east until we reach the Ronacraa River, then we’ll turn north. If we keep to the river it shouldn’t take long before we get to Lake Easbun. Irebra is just upriver of the lake.”
“Okay, sounds… Fun but how long do you think all that will take?”
“Not a clue, depends on whether we cross any soldiers on the way.” Soldiers, I hope we didn’t have to fight. “Of course we’ll also be needing weapons and I’ll have to start teaching you Evokery. Maybe you’ll learn or maybe you won’t but it’s necessary to try.” I nodded at that. Beds made and what little we had all together, we made our way back to the chamber of the Prince of Thieves.
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1
The sound of clashing swords, the grunts and moans of men, the screaming of woman and children hit me like the mountain winds in summer. I could see the fires through the fabric wall of our tent. I could see the small orange orbs of the invader’s torches flying around on the other side, setting fire to all they touched. My father stood by the entrance flap, his cloak black in the night with only broad bands of red at his wrists and waist adding detail to him. My mother huddled in the far corner of the tent. She was crying and motioning for me to go to her but my feet were frozen, unable to understand what was happening outside but I knew I was afraid. A shout came from outside our home, calling out in a strange foreign language. Something grabbed me from behind and I let out a cry but tried hard to stifle it when I saw who it was. My father lifted me up in his one hand as if I weighed nothing at all and hurled me towards my mother.
“Take him and run as far as you can, now!” He shouted to my mother. She didn’t move, just shook her head, the fire’s reflection turning her tears to gold.
“I said…” He stopped short, eyes wide. Just below his chest protruded the tip of an arrow. My mother screamed but stayed put, frozen in the same state as I. My father moaned, a trickle of blood forming on his chin then fell. That was when my mother’s panic brought her to flee. Grabbing hold of my arm she practically dragged me out the back flap just as one of the strange invaders pushed though the entry flap. He saw us escape and called to his fellows outside. We made for the hills, once there we would lose them for sure, nobody could navigate these hills as well as my people could, I was sure. Two invaders came galloping after us on horseback, four others following leisurely on foot. They seemed sure they could catch us and looking up into my mothers shining violet eyes, she seemed sure they would too. The men on horseback pulled in front of us, shouting insults in their tongue. My mother drew a dagger from her sleeve, hurling it at the one horseman and it landed true in his neck. He fell from his horse, groping at his throat. The other snarled as he turned his horse, his sword held high above his head. My mother tried to do the same to him but the knife hit his shield and fell to the ground. He lunged at her, stabbing her shoulder. With a scream she fell to the ground, clutching her wounded shoulder tightly.
“Mama!” I cried, too young to comprehend the foolishness of the action. I held onto her and stayed, no matter how many times she told me to run. The man who had survived, got off his horse and walked towards where my mother and I lay, sword swinging by his side. He said something to me that I could not understand. My lack of response seemed to anger him, his face turned red. He pointed his sword at me and said the words again but still I couldn’t understand. The others had joined him now, all laughing as if they were strolling in the springtime but their eyes told a different story. One of them pried me from my mother and, with me on his shoulder, began to walk back to the camp.
“Mama!” I screamed as loud as I could. I could see her reaching for me, her face a map of tears and blood. A man stepped in front of my view, sword raised. He turned towards me quickly, almost guiltily then lashed down with it, ending my mother’s pain.
“MAMA!”
I awoke with a start. Sweat pouring down my face.
“’Nother nightmare then, Bea?” A woman said standing at the doorway. It was Scionna the cleaning lady, a pink skinned Lith looking as sly as her namesake.
“Oh, Scionna? I don’t know… I think they’re memories.” I said, still foggy-minded with sleep.
“Dreams or memories, matters little now. Sun’s almost ‘bove the horizon and if the master were to wake without you havin’ started your work, you’ll be in for a good floggin’.” I looked out the window then jumped out of the little hay box I used as a bed.
“Why did none of the others wake me?” I asked, slipping my clean top over my head. We, slaves that is, are only allowed two sets of clothes each and we had to clean them ourselves.
“They did try, they did. You slept as sound as the stones in the fields, you did.”
I smiled, chortling at her southern accent and rushed out the door.
My name is Beahblahd, that much I remember from my past. I am what the locals call a Grey. That is due to my skin colouring, which is light grey. I, in fact, come from the land of Sarrador far to the south and far to the east. I was captured and brought to Callador when I had barely seen three summers. In my fourth summer I was auctioned off for five hundred Air, which is only half an Or! A single sheep sells for more. I considered myself a handsome young man for my race, two other Sarradorians worked here and they were older than I by at least fifteen summers and their looks showed it. My hair was cut short, for long hair is a sign of independence here, and it was a fine white in colour with a light golden shine to it. My eyes were violet like my mother’s, or so I believed. The looks of someone in a dream may differ from reality. My features were finely chiselled like most Lith’s are but there was something else, many of the other Greys said that I looked like a nobleman. This I laughed at, saying the truth, as I knew it. I was a simple tribes boy spirited away into slavery, nothing noble there. Ha ha…
I had to find out what my work was for the day and that meant finding the slave handler. The sun had almost risen above the hills in the east and I knew that the master would be waking soon. Everyday the master Lord Geoffrey Al’Feir (a common surname around these parts) after his breakfast would come to check on all the slaves to see that they were all doing their chores, those who were not or those who were but not doing it well enough were flogged. Unfortunately I have the bad habit of daydreaming and have often met either his stick (he almost broke my back once…) or his whip (the cold line of pain from that still chills me). In all he was a good man, treated us well until we did something wrong. He fed us, gave us shelter, bought us clothes… The list goes on and that is how we were trapped, making us feel guilty at the mere thought of deserting him. He never paid us, of course. That would give us power and drain him of income. I found the slave handler by the stables, a gruff-looking man with one eye closed by a scar that cut right down from his brow to his nose. John Al’Gabh (Another common surname but not so common here as the master’s) was his name, his brutish looks belying his almost never-ending supply of good humour. He was a man who liked to have a good drink, get in a good fight and end it all with a good laugh.
“Bit late ‘ent you today, Bea?” He said, everyone calls me Bea for short.
“Slept in a bit today. You know what I have to do today?” I asked, breathing deeply from my rush here but almost choking on the heavy smell of horse manure.
“Honesty’s always the best policy I say and a good bit of extra sleep does no one harm. The boss wanted you to muck out the stables then help on tilling the land; the First Seed Festival is tomorrow you know.”
“First seed already? Gosh! Unlike you, us slaves are stuck working here with no breaks. I hadn’t even realised New Year had come and gone.” I laughed.
“Hah, you joker you. But you’ve got visitors today, real high stuff too.”
“Visitors? High stuff? What do you mean John?” I had never had visitors before. I wondered if I had done something wrong.
“Evokers in fact. Said they were looking for a Grey by the name of Beahblahd. Don’t think you’re in trouble though, to all appearances it seemed they wanted to buy you! The master told me to get you ready, dressed in real clothes.” I was stunned, why would Evokers want to buy me? I, who am nothing but a simple slave. I, who do my job, maybe daydream a bit but I get it done. I started to have images of me training with them, me becoming an Evoker, protecting the peace by magic and sword… John brought me back to reality.
“Thought I’d lost you for a second there boy. One of these days that daydreaming of yours will get you killed. Now come on, lets find you something to wear.” He said.
I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of my grand imaginings and followed him back to the master’s house.
The two Evokers who apparently wished to purchase me were the Lady Sophia De’Aleasa and the Lord Eabhar De’Alcalla (both very uncommon names). Both were humans in the common use of the word (meaning they weren’t Lith) yet Eabhar carried a Lith forename. The master was in deep discussion with the two when I was presented to them.
“A very fine set of attire to squander on a slave.” Said Lady Sophia, her voice beautiful yet painful and cold at the same time. The master glared at me for a moment then forced a smile.
“Only the best for my slaves, Lady Evoker.” He stuttered slightly.
“Really? The poor wretches outside didn’t seem to adorn the garments this one carries and he’s a Grey too.” Commented Lord Eabhar, his voice the epitome of nobility. I didn’t like the emphasis on Grey.
“Pardon Lord Evoker. I did not mean to offend, I just wished him to look good in your presence.” Master Al’Feir seemed to be almost grovelling, hardly the powerful man with the whip I knew.
“Lady Sophia, do you think this one is the one we seek?” Lord Eabhar asked
“I cannot be sure. He seems about the right age and the similarity is there though that could be my racial ignorance, they do all look alike to me.” My fist automatically clenched at the insult but I knew better, my short temper had gotten me in trouble often enough. I took a few deep breaths then continued listening.
“Yes I know but can you sense anything?”
“No. But I am amazed at how he could have the same name.” She turned to me.
“Boy, tell me. What is your name?” She asked. Again the derogatory emphasis made me heat up.
“My name is Beahblahd Al’Bhai.” I said, using the surname given to me by the master. “Hm… Little Flame the Slave. I have no doubt that Al’Bhai is not your name of birth. Can you not remember your own?” From what I knew Greys did not use surnames and before becoming a slave I did not have one.
“No my Lady…” She cut me off with a snarl.
“I am no Lady of yours, Grey filth. You shall refer to me as Lady Evoker.”
“My apologies Lady Evoker. I cannot, I was stolen while I was very young.”
“Stolen were you?” She snickered; I was really beginning to hate Evokers. “The throne of Calladun cannot steal that which belongs to it. All belongs to the king in the end, remember that Grey.”
“You say you were young. That means you cannot even be sure that Beahblahd is your real name.” Lord Eabhar could see where this was going to lead and I must say I was grateful he cut in.
“No, I cannot Lord Evoker but I have lived by that name my entire memorable life so that name is as real to me as can be.” Eabhar looked at me then, something strange about the way he frowned.
“You hold yourself like a nobleman and you talk as though you think you are one. That is very unusual in slaves.”
“With all respect Lord Evoker, I hold myself as I am. I have held myself like this my entire life and until my back gives way through age I shall continue to hold myself like this.”
“Interesting… Lord Al’Feir, you say he has been like this all the time you have had him?”
“That he has, Lord Evoker. But he works the work of two men even when he’s daydreaming so I let him get away with his attitude often enough.” Master Al’Feir said. Lady Sophia had crossed her arms and looked as though she was feeling left out. To me she seemed less the noble Lady than she did a spoilt little girl not getting her way, her earlier icy coolness vanished.
“So Beahblahd, do you know why we are here asking you these questions?”
“No sir, Lord Evoker.” I really didn’t but I guessed someone with my name was very important.
“Sophia, is he the one or not?” She glared at Lord Eabhar.
“I doubt it, let us leave this stinking farmhouse.” She grumbled. Lord Eabhar sighed and held out a hand to Master Al’Feir.
“Good fortunes to you Lord Al’Feir. Perhaps we shall meet again, the Plains of Min is only so large and there can’t be many Beahblahds living as slaves in the region.”
“Perhaps Lord Evoker. Best of luck to you as well.” With a wave of his hand, Master Al’Feir had me removed by his maids who took me to change out of the clothes I had borrowed. I felt kind of depressed; my imagination had let my expectations rise. Like John said, one of these days my imagination would probably get me killed.
2
I couldn’t decide on just how I felt that afternoon. I was sad that my hopes had not been realised but after meeting the two Evokers I was thoroughly relieved as well. It was plain to see that they did not wish to enrol me into their caste but then again… What did they want? I was sitting on top of the stable roof, if I were to be caught by the master I was sure to be flogged but why would the master come to the stables at this time? The sun was setting low over western horizon. Seemingly endless grassy flats lay that way towards the Dhrai Sea broken only by a few farms. What did I know of Evokers anyway? I was a slave, except for the basics on how to read and write I knew practically nothing of the outside. Sure Scionna smuggled in some of Master Al’Feir’s books now and then but those were mostly about farming, plants, herbs, animals and the like. Only a couple of basic history books provided any interesting reading and they were completely biased in favour of Callador. Perhaps I’m some long lost king I thought. Perhaps… Perhaps… Perhaps! That word went through my head far too often. I needed some sort of certainty about myself, some grounds to my dreams. I was so involved in myself that I almost failed to notice the shape moving beneath the stables. It was a strange thing, human in shape but not quite. As it moved into the light I gasped in horror. John had told me he thought he saw someone who looked like one the day before but couldn’t be sure. This was a Cortar, Human or Lith by day but ferocious vampiric demon by night. If I were to call out it would surely turn on me, in fact I was amazed it hadn’t smelt me yet. I licked my finger and held it in the air, thankfully I was down wind and anyway I doubt it could tell since I stank of horse manure. It was making its way towards the slave quarters. They often preyed on the farms to the far south around Diabhsui but rarely this far north, not since before I was brought here. Evokers and a Cortar in one day, almost too much adventure for me… Almost. I quietly snuck down from the roof and grabbed a shovel. Gosh! It was far larger than I thought, almost double my height. Moving as quietly as I could, I tried to get within range to strike at the beast. I had raised the shovel to slam down on its’ head but just as I had begun to tense my arms it turned and stared right into my eyes. I couldn’t read any emotions in its’ bat like face but I’m sure it was surprised. You had to go play hero didn’t you! I thought to myself, now you’re going to be killed or worse turned into a vampire. Idiot! Idiot! IDIOT! Just then the Cortar did the exact thing that I didn’t expect it to do. With a snarl it pushed past, my arm turning cold where it touched me, and ran off into the darkness leaving me standing there feeling more than a little foolish. After what felt like an hour I lowered the shovel from above my head and, still shivering, went to bed.
I didn’t sleep much that night, nor had I wanted to but the affects of my encounter reversed during the day and I had to mentally and physically force myself to stay awake and do my work. What had the Cortar been looking for? I hadn’t told anyone about the encounter, who would believe me? Who would really believe that I stood face to face with a Cortar at night and survived? I didn’t believe it. In their human or Lith state Cortars had bright blue eyes and pitch black hair, their skin white as snow (not that I’d ever seen snow but I hear it’s really white). Sometimes people are just born looking like that but they’re quickly either burnt at the stake or buried alive. As you can guess most of Callador’s populace is fair haired and dark eyed with only the occasional brunettes. I had spent the day sowing seeds for today, the tenth of Atan, was the First Seed Festival. Tonight Master Al’Feir would be off to Calladun with his wife and two sons. There they would celebrate the true beginning of spring with large kegs of beer and other less socially correct forms of alcohol and narcotics. We, the slaves would see none of it of course. For us today is a day much like any other day. Tomorrow John may smuggle us in a few kegs of beer to enjoy that night but we couldn’t really afford to be hung over the day after with all the work we had. Fortunately I was physical labour and unless something special needs attending to then I can sleep my eight hours through but the house staff often had chores that went deep into the night, their work easier but their workload heavier. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight I would be on the look out for the Cortar. I knew that if I encountered it again tonight I would probably not be so lucky as last night but if I didn’t do anything… The thought was too horrid to register. It was decided, I’d stay on the stable roof and wait all night if I had to.
Nothing! Absolutely nothing! I was starting to wonder if it hadn’t been a dream. A Cortar this far north, not trying to eat me at first glance? Impossible! Absolutely impossible! I’m not sleeping enough, that’s my problem, making me hallucinate. I told John very plainly that there was no way, even if a hundred Cortars dragged me with Al’Feir whipping me as well, that I was going to work that day. I returned to my makeshift bed but was soon called out by John.
“I’m sorry mate, the master just wouldn’t listen. He wants you to go tell ‘im yourself. Don’t worry I’m sure once he gets a good look at you he’ll let you rest, he’s not that cruel.”
I dragged myself to the area around the flogging pole where I had no doubt the good master was waiting. He was but fortunately I really did look as bad as I felt.
“By the angels Bea, you really do look like you came face to face with a demon.” He looked generally worried. You’re close enough, I thought, try face to face with a vampire.
“I’ll let you rest the rest of today but Bea, you know how understaffed I am as it is. I need you, tomorrow even if you’re still like you are now you’re out in those fields. You understand?”
“Yes Master.” All I needed was sleep, I’ve hardly missed a nights sleep in my life. Being a slave you need every second possible.
“You slaves bring in the money and if you don’t then there’s no food. Now go on, get some sleep.” Was that a threat I heard behind his concern? Either way he was right, I’d be letting the others down if I didn’t push my weight.
“Yes Master, I will Master.” Was all I said before I dragged myself back to bed.
I did feel much better the next day and the day after that and the next. I heard from John that there had been many sightings such as mine and that a number of farms were hiring guards to put a stop to this terrible yet strangely non-violent beast. I told him of my encounter and he gave me a good whack over the head.
“You fool!” He had said. “You can’t kill a Cortar with a shovel! You’re lucky this ones a pig sucker.”
This baffled me.
“What do you mean by a pig sucker?” I asked.
“Some Cortars retain enough of their human or Lithian mind to feel sick at the thought of drinking human blood but they have to find a way to satiate their blood lust. Pigs work a treat and aren’t smart so the Cortar doesn’t have to feel guilty. Been plenty of pigs going missing to support the theory too.”
“Lucky we don’t have pigs then. Why try and kill it then?”
“It’s still stealing and what it is, is enough of a reason for it to die anyhow.”
“I feel bad for it still.”
“Don’t.” He said rather harshly, I think, than he intended. “Pig blood ain’t good enough for long and they eventually go berserk, killing anything they can. Eventually sometimes even eating away at themselves.”
“I always thought Cortars were immortal…” I said, already doubting my words.
“They’re not, they live longer than us, sure, but nothing escapes time.”
“You sound like the words in books.” I said in awe.
“You must remember I spent hours in the Royal Library in Calladun.” He liked to boast that fact knowing I’d do anything for a chance to see the Royal Library, almost anything…
The moon had gone through all its’ forms and a bit and it was time for Tirgadh, the Wolves War Festival. People would build huge fires with homemade wolves at the centre in celebration of the driving out of all the werewolves many hundreds of years ago. We would not however…
I awoke to the sound of swords clashing, dreading the dream I was sure to come but didn’t. These swords were real and close by. I stumbled over to the door and peered over the shoulders of my roommates to see what was going on. It was light out already, it seemed I had slept in again. There were a group of soldiers in battle with a single man. He was outnumbered twenty to one yet fought them off as easily as if he faced one. His cold blue eyes fell on me and widened. With a mighty leap he bounded to the top of the stable’s roof.
“There’s the one you really want!” He yelled, his voice thick with madness or exertion or both. “He’ll put an end to you all. Kill him now before he brings about the fall of Callador!” None of the soldiers turned my way. I looked up at the man, he was a Lith but with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as the sky. I realised with a start that this must be the Cortar I had met earlier in the season. Why he was saying I’d put an end to them all made about as much sense as everything else that had happened this year. All of a sudden a sword appeared out of nowhere, cutting right through his heart and ending his life instantly. Standing above the corpse was Lord Evoker Eabhar De’Alcalla, sword in hand and looking straight at me.
“Men, arrest that young Grey in the slave quarters!” He shouted. What! I thought, panic surging up my spine. The soldiers turned to me with swords raised, I couldn’t see a way out this time. I was about to give in when something knocked all the soldiers to the ground. I looked for the source of the blast and my eyes fell on John, standing sword raised upwards pointing at Lord Eabhar.
“Lord Evoker, may I be so bold to ask what you want with my innocent young friend here?” He seemed as noble as the Evoker at that moment.
“Is that John Al’Gabh? Why I haven’t seen you since you were expelled. What in the angels names are you doing here?” Lord Eabhar looked unperturbed by John.
“I was never expelled and anyway you haven’t answered my question, what is it you want with Bea?”
“He is a threat that must be dealt with.” A threat? Me? How?
“In what way is he threatening you Eabhar? Scared of a slave are you?” John smirked.
“Do not use my name so commonly, filth! Stand aside now or I will kill you myself.” Eabhar’s calm seemed to be beginning to slip. Was I so important? A strange flash of pride swept through my fear. I should help John but how? I didn’t have a weapon and even if I did I wouldn’t have a clue of how to use it. An explosion sent me flying backwards with the other slaves all falling on top of me. I couldn’t see what was happening outside but I could certainly hear it. It sounded as though a thousand men were waging war in the stables. Beyond the clash of steel I could hear the horses whinnying their panic. An arm grabbed me and pulled me away to the back of the slave quarters. I never saw at the time who it was but I assume it was John trying to shove me through the window. I bashed my head on the sill quite hard and all went dark.
3
I awoke to a loud thumping and flashing lights, soon realising it was all in my head and the pain swept over me like a tidal wave. I was lying in between two haystacks with a torn cloth under my head. I heard movement and tensed, suddenly remembering the earlier events. It was John and I sighed in relief.
“You awake, then? We’re in the fields of the Al’Hyrde plantation. I’ve covered our tracks as best as I could but we’ll need to get moving. Evokers ain’t easily lost.” He said while helping me up.
“But…” I trailed off, shook my head then said again. “But why?”
“Feed me to the Demons if I know. They’re scared of you’s all I can see.” We were running now, south towards the Armon River.
We stopped for breath. We still had to pass through two farms before we could reach the river and no doubt Eabhar would have guards looking for us on the way.
“We’ve got no choice, we’ll have to stop for supplies in Calladun.” John announced. I looked at him.
“We can’t go into the capital when we’re being hunted by the guards, they’ll be everywhere in there.”
“We’ll swim in by the river, it should be night by the time we’re there. If my knowledge of the Evokers is good enough, and I dare say it is, then I think this will not have reached the greater masses of soldiers yet.” I remembered now what Lord Eabhar had said and looked at John in a new light.
“You were an Evoker once, weren’t you?” I asked. He seemed to sag at that, when he faced me there was a look of great sorrow in his one good eye.
“Aye that I was. That is, until the incident that cost me my eye .”
“How did you lose it?” I couldn’t recall ever asking, while on the farm it seemed that was just how he had always been.
“Once we find someplace safe I may tell you but for now we must get into Calladun.” He began moving again and with a nod of agreement, even though he wasn’t looking, I followed.
We had a number of close calls that afternoon before reaching the Armon. Once we were passing through a field of sheep that began to bleat at our passing, setting off the owner’s dog and the owner himself. The owner, obviously having not heard of the Cortar’s death, alerted the soldiers that had been on lookout. We were over the fence by that time and darkness had just fallen. A few other trivial but equally dangerous occurrences happened but each we got through basically undetected though John said it would not be hard for an Evoker to track us. We reached the river and began to wade in the shallows, fortunately the first heavy rains had not yet come and the river ran slowly enough. It stank though, really badly and John attributed this to the sewage from the city.
“Buckets of piss and crap just dumped into the rivers with who knows what else. It’s worse in the winter when the water is still, you can hardly breathe near the banks.” His face twisted in disgust, both of us trying hard not to notice the things that floated past. The river’s banks here were high and John told me that if we were to enter the city unnoticed we would have to, unfortunately, stay in the river. The city walls of Calladun stretched far and encircled half of Loch Stell and for an invading army it’s towering walls made it almost impossible to siege. We would use, according to John, the thieves’ entrance which would cost us about 50Air each or so it would’ve, hadn’t John been a high ranking member of the Laren De’Algadai, the Guild of thieves. His training as an Evoker had made the difficult tasks set for initiation into the Guild seem like child’s play. Once we reached the wall John took us around to one of the smaller tunnels, one without a grill protecting it from intruders. Inside an old Lith and two very large men were sitting around a candlelit table, all three stood as we entered.
“Beando Danamarei.” John called out, focusing on the old Lith.
“John? Beando kimo kara,” Greetings my friend, “what brings you to these pleasant smelling parts? And who’s the Grey?” Said Danamarei.
“I need some help, Danam. My friend here’s gotten himself in a spot of trouble with the Evokers.”
“Evokers you say? And why should I risk my neck by letting you bring him through my sewers?”
“’Cause you owe it to me, how many times did I get you out of trouble?”
“I’m only playing with you, you one eyed fool. Ha ha.” His laugh sounded more like a dry cough, working in these conditions for someone so old couldn’t be healthy.
“Go on through, you know the way as well as I. Good luck to you John, don’t get yourself killed over a Grey.”
While we were walking John turned to me and said, “Don’t let his talk of Greys get to you, there are some in the guild in any case. He’s just old fashioned.” I silently acknowledged this with a nod of my head. The tunnel was lit with torches and the air was thick with smoke, the walls covered with algae.
“There’s almost an entire other city down ‘ere. Can buy anything you want at the market for lower prices than up top. It takes a bit of getting used to, the smell I mean, but after that it can almost be fun.”
“How much further?” I asked, barely able to hide my gagging.
“Not much.” A dark robed figure past us, and John nodded a greeting but not receiving one in return. “Secretive bunch these, almost as bad as them bloody Tokara. Only those lower down or really high up like to be known.”
“I’ve always considered theft to be wrong.” I muttered, glancing back at the robed figure. If John had heard he didn’t show it.
“Danamarei knows them all though, he does. He used to live on the isle of Horomer, it’s where I met him.”
“The Sacred Isle? You’ve been to Horomer?” He had my attention at that word and I almost forgot about the sewer’s stench… Well, not quite.
“Of course! It’s the Evoker’s headquarters. I met Danamarei in the Varendan desert. His name means the Desert Horse and by all the Angels was he a bandit to be reckoned with! Not even we, the Evokers, could catch him. He would have made a powerful Evoker had things been different…” John trailed off sadly at that and I didn’t push him further.
“Here’s the city, where all the poor wretches live. Some of ‘em ain’t even in the Guild but Prion De’Gadai, he’s the boss man around here, lets ‘em hang around anyhow. ”
I looked around at the changing surroundings. The tunnel had widened considerably, with holes dotting them from time to time. Around and inside these holes sick, sullen faces watched our passing, the smell here a thousand times worse.
“Poor bastards…” Muttered John, “By day they beg for money and food up top, and by night they rot down here. This is no life.” The tunnel began to narrow again but people still lay sleeping (Some, I must say, I wasn’t to sure about…) or lay propped up on their elbows staring at us.
“Why don’t they do something for themselves?” I asked.
“They do all they can. They’re mostly too diseased or weak to be slaves and too poor to buy their health. Poverty is rampant in the cities, all the jobs taken by the slaves.”
“Doesn’t the King see that?” I asked bewildered by the failings of the system.
“Of course he does but does he care? No, all he cares about are the nobles and himself. If slavery were to be abolished then they would be ruined. They would have to pay to get things done.” He shook his head, laughing sadly.
“So you’re against slavery? Then why become a slave master?” It seemed very ironic.
“I didn’t start out as one. Around the time they bought you I was Al’Feir’s personal guard. I needed the money, badly. When you came along you gave us real problems, no matter how often he beat you. He said he’d pay me more if I took the job and took care of you, so I did.” I shuddered remembering my punishments, whips and clubs didn’t hurt a child’s soul as much as fists, feet and words.
“So,” I said, returning to the previous subject, “It’s the comfort of the nobleman that will eventually ruin the Kingdom. Do you think that means my people will be free?”
“To be blunt, I really doubt it; in fact I think things will be worse. You see the nobles see slaves of their own race disturbing, not too disturbing but enough so that they need to seek difference of kind for peace of mind. Since the end of the Sarradoran crusades Greys have become the common image of slavery and once the Kingdom falls all those who lost jobs to slaves will take it out on your people.”
“That seems unfair.”
“I know that, but that’s how it is.” He was shaking his head.
We didn’t speak for about half an hour after that. He had said the market would not be much further but it was a long way off from when and where he had said that. The tunnel began to widen like it had at the living area, but this time wooden tables lined the sides. Each table had a different variety of product, from swords and armor to paint and building materials. Anything you could imagine was available for barter here. However, we had hardly walked five steps into the market before men in hooded cloaks surrounded us, each brandishing a black bladed short sword with white runes from the tip to the hilt. John reached for his sword but did not draw.
“John Al’Gabh? The Prince wishes to speak with you.”
4
The Prince! Were these Evokers? How could we be caught so fast? John must have seen my reaction because he put his hand on my shoulder and said:
“Be calm Bea, the Prince of Thieves obviously missed me while I was gone.”
“But how…” He raised his hand, palm facing me.
“There are other ways of talking than just the mouth, Bea.” So it wasn’t the Prince of Callador.
“These men are the Dublana, Prion’s own royal guard you could say. They shouldn’t harm us. I’ve done nothing against the Guild, Have I?” His query aimed at a Dublana with a gold band on his or her arm, I couldn’t tell the gender or race in this light.
“Nothing wrong, no.” It was a man but his voice soft and melodic, not fitting at all with his attire. “The Prince wishes only to talk to you about a certain acquisition of yours.”
“To be frank mates, I haven’t a bleeding clue what you’re on about. But I guess we’ve no choice, am I correct?”
“That you are, Al’Gabh sir. Now, if you shall be kind enough to follow me.” I could sense clearly that they were willing to use force if necessary, despite all their politeness. The one with the gold wristband turned and the others seemed to fade away as if they had never been there at all.
“John… Where did the others…” I didn’t finish for a large stairway suddenly seemed to crash down from the ceiling. Our guide faced us and gestured up the stairs. John carried on walking but I was quite spooked. Not only had I seen things I would never have believed possible that day but that those very things were within walking distance from where I live. Used to live, I reminded myself. I couldn’t see myself going back again now, not after all this. I could see now that the stairs were connected to two large chains and that there was someone above, by a wheel and lever, who must have lowered it. It was a fancy set up and I couldn’t imagine how rich the man who owned it had to be. The room above was a stark contrast to the dank sewers below and I felt slightly guilty that I was walking on the beautiful carpet with muddy boots. The walls were painted bright white with golden border. The carpet was a dazzling red and everything just seemed to radiate an air of royalty. Out the window I could see it was still night and only then wondering how it could be so bright inside without any candles. It must be some sort of magic, I thought, none of the light spilt outside. It was as if it had hit a brick wall. We carried on down the hall until we came to a large varnished wooden door. Our guide, the Dublana with the golden wristband, knocked four times each one echoing down the hall. There was no answer that I could hear but the Dublana pulled the door open with a grunt, motioning for us to enter, we did so. The room inside was far grander than anything I had ever seen. Great murals of ancient horizons and battles long ended, of Angels and Demons, of foreign cities or beautiful Lith maidens. John caught my wide-eyed stare and chuckled.
“All this was stolen of course.” He said, flicking his long hair out of his eyes.
How could a thief live so grandly? It just didn’t seem right, didn’t seem fair but what in this day and age did? There was another Dublana on this side of the door, this one had two gold bands. The room, for all its’ extravagance, wasn’t very large. At the far end of it was a large golden throne, seemingly unoccupied.
“If you shall be kind enough to wait for a moment. The Prince prefers to evaluate his guests first.” The Dublana said politely (though the emphasis on guests disturbed me).
“That will be fine, thank you.” John said to the Dublana, “Prions right there on the throne, normal folk wouldn’t be able to see him but with my Evoker training I can see him as clear as day.” He said leaning to me. I could only see an empty chair, no matter how hard I looked. We must have waited for ten minutes at least before Prion shimmered into view. I let out a gasp, what he was surprised me more than his magical appearance should have. The Prince of Thieves was a Grey!
“Greetings, John my old friend. Your ward seems a little startled.” The voice was like low but moving music. He was tall, far taller than I or John and his skin seemed to be almost a reddish grey. His hair was creamy in color and his eyes were a deep purple.
“Greetings oh Prince. To what do we owe this visit?” John replied, moving straight to the point as usual.
“Well you see, one of my men has come into possession of a very important writ, ordered by the Evokers even.”
“And what, may I ask, has that to do with us?”
“The writ orders the detainment of a slave which may be in the city. The slave apparently is wanted for the murder of an unknown farmer and here you waltz into my domain in possession of a slave that matches the description perfectly.”
“I didn’t murder anybody!” I said before I could stop myself. He looked down at me sullenly.
“Can you prove your innocence? Tell me your name and if you are not the one I shall know.”
“Don’t say a thing,” John gave me the look he gave when he felt I’d done wrong. I knew not to say more, if I could help it. “You know very well you can’t touch a fellow Gada’s possession. Writ or no writ, it’s your law.” Prion smiled, his teeth dazzlingly white and his canines seemed sharpened.
“You’re quite right there John. The writ still stands though and I would like to know why Evokers would be interested in a simple farm murder case. The slave’s name is Beahblahd, is it not?”
“Yes it is. When were you informed about the writ?” John asked.
“My man came into possession of the writ on the ninety first day of Kudan and the Evokers have been pestering him since.”
“So your man’s a Beirin? He good enough to be named?”
“He’s one of the best, even I must admit and I am the best. He goes by the name of Karos’Tir, does his work quietly and quickly. There is one odd thing about him I must add.” He gazed towards the ceiling as though contemplating if we should really know.
“So, what is it that’s so odd about the bloke?”
“He’s a vampire.”
“A what?” John and I gasped in unison.
“You heard right, he is a vampire, Cortar if you prefer the common name. He’s quite a fellow I must say though, used to be Diunain. Heir apparent to a minor dukedom in Morromon before he was given his, how should I say it, gift?”
“John you think that Cortar the Evoker got was the same one?” I asked, remembering the long mad look on the beast’s face.
“Can’t say for sure.”
“Back to the subject now, John my friend. Why does the King’s elite want their hands on a slave?” Impatience was making a small amount of leeway in Prion’s tone.
“I really can’t say, oh Prince. A Cortar, perhaps your Karos’Tir, shouted out, before the good Lord Evoker gutted, him that Beahblahd would kill us all or somethin’ to that effect.”
“And you were just going to hide down here like the beggars until they stopped looking?” Prion pulled his head back slightly.
“I was thinkin’ of heading east, maybe crashing in Irebra for awhile, always wanted to see the Hollow Mountain and the caves around those parts. Bea could help me as a free man.” This was the first I’d heard of the plan. Irebra? That was so far away from… From what, Home? I didn’t have a home anymore or ever before now that I come to think of it.
“You of all people should know that they’ll find you eventually. They are Evokers, they’ve crossed the Ierthea Sea to catch those they’re after and I’m sure their magic will lead them down here and that I can’t have. Rest up for tonight here in my villa, I’ll pay for your supplies. But I want you out of my territory by noon tomorrow. Leave me now, if you’re lucky you might catch a few hours sleep.”
“We are forever in your debt, oh Prince.” John gave a small bow, which I imitated, and then turned to follow the Dublana with the gold wristband to our rooms.
Me, having been a slave my entire life, was purely amazed at the level of comfort I felt when lying in the large soft bed and it was not long before I began to drift into an exhausted sleep. My body rested well, however I cannot say my mind enjoyed the same luxury. My mind began to sink back into those grey sands I knew so well yet not at all. I was wondering alone in the dunes, stumbling often and sinking knee deep into the volcanic sand. I had the urge to go somewhere but couldn’t think where that somewhere was so I kept up my trudge through the wastes. You could hardly call it a desert, life was everywhere but all of it the same grey as the sands. A large rat scurried after a strange insect with hundreds (so it seemed) of legs. A snake made its winding way up a tall thin tree, stopping once at the top to watch my slow but steady march to wherever I was marching to. The sky was completely overcast but I knew that those clouds held no water, only dust. An old man suddenly appeared to be walking next to me (How he came to be walking next to me? I couldn’t say, I’d learnt long ago to stop trying to explain the occurrences in my dreams).
“Beahblahd Al’Diain, your tribe calls to you. Omragria calls to you.” He said, his voice as cracked and dry as the land.
“Who? Why me, I’m just a slave?”
“Omragria needs you, she calls to you. Why won’t you listen?”
“What in the bloody name of the Angels do you think I’m doing now? Answer me so I can understand what I’m listening to. Who is Omragria?”
“Follow the call Beahblahd Al’Diain.”
“For the Angel’s sake…
“…Why?” I woke with a start, screaming out the last word. John leapt out of bed with his sword drawn.
“Bea, what’s wrong?” He looked sharp and focused, completely unlike someone who’d just jumped out of bed.
“I’m… I’m sorry I woke you John. It was just another dream.” I hung my head shamefully.
“It’s fine, it’s almost dawn anyhow. See the suns rising, the Angels have blessed us with another day.”
“John, I think we should head for Sarrador.”
“Sarrador? What Demon would posses you to want go there? It’s on the other side of the bleeding continent!”
“It’s my dreams John. They’re all about Sarrador. I want to return where I belong.” I could feel tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“I can’t promise that I’ll follow you there Bea, but once we reach Irebra I’ll be sure to point you in the right direction.” He laughed and turned to make his bed.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Sarrador is nothing but rock and ash with the occasional pool of lava. What does it look like in your dreams?”
“Grey, lots of grey hills. A few grey trees…”
“That’s where you get it wrong. There are very few trees in Sarrador, very few and those that are there are the strangest things you could ever lay your eyes on. Big sacks of acid, and long vine like arms. They’re predators you know? Feast off the rock rats and anything else small enough to eat.”
“There were rats in my dream. There was this old man as well, he kept on saying Omragria was calling to me. That she needed me”
“Omragria, eh? Never heard of her. Could just be wishful thinking.” He laughed, one eye twinkling in the dawn light.
“I guess you’re right. So, what supplies will we be needing for our journey east?”
“We’ll need a couple of horses to ride and food sufficient to reach Gormscot…”
“Isn’t Gormscot in the south?”
“Yeah, it is. Once we reach there we’ll turn east until we reach the Ronacraa River, then we’ll turn north. If we keep to the river it shouldn’t take long before we get to Lake Easbun. Irebra is just upriver of the lake.”
“Okay, sounds… Fun but how long do you think all that will take?”
“Not a clue, depends on whether we cross any soldiers on the way.” Soldiers, I hope we didn’t have to fight. “Of course we’ll also be needing weapons and I’ll have to start teaching you Evokery. Maybe you’ll learn or maybe you won’t but it’s necessary to try.” I nodded at that. Beds made and what little we had all together, we made our way back to the chamber of the Prince of Thieves.
That mean you'll read it? 
Though what does everyone think of mine? (apart from the names, I might change them once I'm finished but for my memory's sake they're staying like that for now)