Banners of The Sa'yen, page 8
“Since none of us are the masters of our fate, Hakba Bara, but only players on the much larger stage of life, we can only do the best our roles will allow us to do. And now, what was it you wished to warn me about?”
“My Lord, you overwhelm me with your wisdom. But first, allow me to inform you that this, your ship, was once mine only a few weeks past She was called Black Falcon by my crew, and she was made in the yards of Baril MacCak of this fair city of Triisus. I have no doubts that you will treat her with the same reverence and confidence that I and my crew did before our untimely demise.”
The Sa'yen nodded after I quickly whispered into His ear that Baril MacCak was the most renowned Building Master in the far north ranges of Hungar. A ship by MacCak was a major investment, bound to last almost forever, and the fastest of its class without exception. I was not surprised at the pirate’s statement I had suspected this ship had been his when we first boarded her and found him gravely wounded. That it was from the yards of Baril MacCak I was not surprised to hear either. The pirates of the dark Aggarian mountains took for their own anything they pleased and their swords could procure, but when it came to their black-hulled ships even they, when they were rich enough to afford it paid a Building Master gold freely for a good ship. And I suspected that Hakba Baru, as his fame reputed him to be, was one of the richest pirate chieftains in the Aggarian Mountains. Only the best had been used for his ship. As it should have been for a feared black-hull.
“Now, as to the warnings I have mentioned. I must inform you that the appearance a week back of the two golden-hulls of the Hakadians was not sheer accident The two Hakadian ships were there by plan and we were the ones who accidently stumbled upon them.”
“By plan you say?” I growled, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “And when did an Hakadian pilot learn to navigate so far northward, pirate?”
“Why, when a Triisusian pilot held the helm of the Hakadian Admiral’s own ship, friend Magdar! That is when!”
“That is impossible, Hakba Baru!” I retorted, shouting in my anger at such an accusation. “A Triisusian pilot would never show a Hakadian the northern trade routes! They would cut his tongue from his mouth before a pilot from this city would reveal such secrets!”
“Aye, in most cases, that is true, friend Magdar!”
Hakba Baru nodded, smiling evilly, standing with casual ease as he continued speaking. “But in this case the Triisusian pilot was sent to guide the Hakadians northward on orders from his prince.”
“Heh, what’s that you say? A prince of Triisus sending a pilot to guide the Hakadians northward? You say this treason knowingly?” Fidor shouted, stepped menacingly forward toward the pirate chieftain with hatred and anger etched on his wrinkled, weatherbeaten face.
“Aye, that is exactly what I tell you, Fidor! A prince of Triisus, a jewel of the Far North, in league with the hated Hakadians of the South! I know this to be true, my friends, for I paid much gold to my spies both here in Triisus and in the far palaces of Hakad to hear of such news.”
“But why? Tell tis why, pirate! Why would a Triisusian prince wish to be in league with the Hakadians?” I yelled, cooling my anger somewhat but still furious at the pirate’s vile accusations.
“For an empire, Magdar! For an empire! The prince of this fair city offered to the Hakadians Triisus for their most northern base of conquest after he becomes the acknowledged ruler, in exchange for the prize the Triisusian prince most desires. A Royal Marriage to the Princess Saphid of Hakad, the third daughter of the Emperor Has-sad of Hakad]”
I felt the anger drain from my body at those words. Saphid of Hakad to be married to one of the princes of Triisus! Saphid was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in die Empire of Hakad! To marry her to a prince of far Triisus meant that the rulers of Hakad saw the importance of having Triisus under their domination. Growling in anger, I clenched my hands into hard fists at the thought of an Hakadian princess sitting on the throne beside her husband in the High Halls of Triisus as joint rulers. This was outrageous, yet the pirate’s words rung with the sound of truth. I knew the Hakadians had, for hundreds of years, searched in vain to find and control the trade routes of the Far North. And Triisus had, as the largest city of the Far North, led in the fight to keep the
Hakadians and their fleets from finding the northern passages. The cities of the Far North were few in number but extremely fierce about controlling their trade routes. Triisus, for over two hundred years, had grown rich from the profits she made by her ships plowing through the high mountain passes she guarded as her own. The high mountain passes were the most important possessions a city controlled and to lose them meant in many cases the city died from the strangulation of trade. And the Hakadians of the Far South, arrogant and warlike, wished to control all the passes and thus all the cities of Northern Hungar! I started to speak, my anger under control, but the Master came to His feet and stepped in front of the pirate chieftain. The Master, in His magnificence, towered a good head taller than the pirate, and with His long hair and beard, of a golden color rare in a Hungar male, He appeared to me like the god He was.
“Hakba, yet you fail to tell me the warning you said you had for me. I do not understand why such fierce hatreds should be shown for the Hakadians, yet I blame myself and my lack of knowledge of this strange planet. But what, pray tell, are the dangers that I face from this tale? Can you tell me that?”
“Aye, that I can, My Lord,” the pirate chieftain said, nodding his head and then bowing slightly. “The treasures that you found in die holds of this, once my own ship. The vast treasure of gold coins, jewels and necklaces of rare stones and metals. All the treasures that a man could ask for and never be able to spend in one lifetime. Do you not wonder how I came to possess them before your arrival, My Lord, or to whom they once belonged?”
“No, Hakba Baru, I never once wondered. You are a pirate, my friend, and a pirate comes by his gold in only one fashion. I did not need to ask how you came about it Nor did I care who once owned it before you. Is that important?”
“Aye, My Lord, it certainly is. For no doubt the Hakadians will soon learn that my ship was captured by a strange man who calls himself the Sa’yen. And that he and not I possesses the dowry of the Princess Saphid.”
The dowry of the Princess Saphid!” I shouted, startled and deeply shaken by the pirate’s words. “Why that is impossible! The Hakadians would send a fleet of their mightiest ships to protect the princess’s own dowry. How came you by it, pirate?”
“Aye, that they indeed sent, Magdar!” Hakba Bara nodded, his eyes alight with an evil delight as he looked at me with pride. “A fleet of twenty of their best frigates, Magdar! A fleet no navy could defeat in open battle and all those ships escorting a slow Scud that held no gold, no treasure in her holds. A dummy, my friend! A ruse to hide the comings and goings of the real treasure ship carrying the princess’s own dowry. And I, only I, thanks to the gold I paid to my spies, knew which ship was the real treasure ship. I took the treasure ship, Magdar! I took it as it sailed alone, unguarded, only a few hundred miles from the towers of Hakad itself.”
“Any why would the Hakadians allow the dowry of their princess to go unescorted into the passes of the Far North, pirate? Tell us that if you can,” old Fidor growled, yet his growl sounding like that of a man who more believed than disbelieved the pirate’s tale.
“I shall tell you the reasons for that, Fidor my friend,” the Master said, smiling into the face of the pirate chieftain as He pulled on His beard thoughtfully. “Because the Hakadians wished to protect the identity of the Triisusian {since. A fleet dispatched as a ruse would be followed whereas a single transport, unguarded, sent on its own would have a better chance of succeeding in both delivering the treasure and keeping the identity of the Triisusian prince out of the hands of prying spies. Am I correct, friend Hakba?”
“Competely, My Lord.” The pirate bowed, showing his pleasure at the Master’s knowledge of such intricate intrigues as the Hakads practiced with consummate skill
“And I suspect you would know the name of the Triisusian prince who wished to become a Prince of the House of Hassad as well, would you now, Hakba?”
“Aye, My Lord, that too I would know thanks to my spies.”
“I suspect then,” the Lord began, smiling knowingly, “that the two warnings of peril you come to me with are indeed quite real. One, is it not, is that the Hakadians will wish to take the treasure back from me and seek possible revenge for your mischievous deeds?”
“Aye, My Lord, that is exactly what I came to warn you about”
“And the other, would it not be, was the danger the Triisusian prince would cause me for taking the dowry of the princess promised to him?”
“You read my mind like an open book, My Lord. I stand before you completely revealed.”
The Lord chuckled to Himself in amusement at the pi* rate’s words, but I saw nothing to chuckle about On one side the Hakadians would soon launch a massive hunt to find the black-hull that had stolen the treasure of the Princess Saphid, and on the other the prince that sought the hand of Saphid would be equally eager to seek revenge for the theft of his promised one’s dowry. Yet the Master seemed not in the least concerned with the perils facing Him. To confront the Empire of the Hakads alone, with only the craft of a black-hull, seemed too preposterous even to contemplate. And yet we had still to hear which prince of Triisus would soon be our sworn enemy. Grimacing, I stepped forward and spoke the question that hung on my lips with ill-concealed dread.
“And you could not guess, Magdar? A native of Triisus? Shame on you!” Hakba Bare chided, lifting his head and laughing at me. I held my tongue but rage flowed through me at the pirate’s derision. “Why, the prince is of the House of Kandart The oldest son of Babur Kandar, called The Cruel by some!”
“Bahir Kandar!” Fidor and I shouted at the same time, angrily.
“Aye, the one and the same. Beware, My Lord, of Bahir Kandar! His wealth will soon buy spies that will tell him all he will be seeking. And his household troops are the finest blades gold can buy.”
The Lord only smiled at the words of Hakba Bare! I felt myself grow weak from the words, but looking quickly into His face, I felt strength return to me. I could easily see much danger lurking ahead of us. Yet, I knew the Lord would guide U9 through with His hand and calm assurance, though hardly could I guess the dangers that we were destined to experience.
VI
What Only The Priest Knows
The cobblestone pavement reverberated with the sounds of our boots as we walked up the sharply inclined street I, old Fidor, Tadan and Tallsus, the Sail Master of our ship, followed the Sa’yen as we showed Him the city for the first time. The Master wore a heavy cloak around His shoulders, for the mountain winds become exceedingly cold once the sun drops below the far peaks, and underneath was the plain attire of a simple warrior. Strapped to His waist was the long, thin Made of the plain-hilted rapier, a weapon that I knew He could wield with a deadly pattern of impenetrability. Each of us was equally wrapped in a heavy cloak for warmth. Around us the squat, square-shaped gray stone buildings of the city hugged the side of the streets like sulking giants huddling close to each other for warmth against the bitter cold of the mountain winds. Few people were out in the narrow, twisting streets, for the promise of the first snow-blowing storm of the season hung in the air. As we hurried up the street to find a small inn that old Fidor knew well and had good ale to drink, dogs barked and from dark windows I saw faces peering down at us suspiciously. I did not like the feeling of being spied upon from every dark alley we passed, and I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder as we climbed the steep street up farther into the older part of the city. So far the Black Falcon, the name of the black-hull, which the Lord wished to keep as the name of His ship, had been moored to a common landing tower for three days. With His permission, I had begun the task of hiring a full crew for the ship, paying good copper and silver coins for the best hands available. After long discussions with the Lord at night, we finally agreed not to reveal that the Master was the Sa’yen returned. It was I who first broached this subject, and the Lord was somewhat surprised. Smiling at me, He pointed out that He had all along claimed not to be the Sa’yen, a point I quickly acceded to. Yet, as I explained to Him, I knew Him to be the Sa’yen, as did the rest of His crew. But high up in the Zhygar mountains where the city of Triisus sat, the Sa’yen, the God of War, was looked upon as a minor divinity. And in fact, among the followers of the Pictii, the Sa’yen was looked upon with suspicion and even open hostility. The city of Triisus was a stronghold of the Pictii, and the God of War, the Sa’yen, was laughed at by many as a poor god, a weak god that could command little respect and much contempt So it would be to our advantage, as I pointed out to keep the Lord’s true identity a secret until the appropriate time came to reveal Him properly. The Lord agreed with an amused nod of His head, and nothing was said by myself or by the original five of my crew of the Sa’yen’s divinity. But, looking into the future, in hiring the crew of the Black Falcon I hired only those who were devotees of the Sa’yen or who cared little for any deity whatsoever. I knew many good hands in Triisus, and it was not hard to select the ones I thought would be the most loyal and the best Some of the best hands hired were men who could not have cared less for any deity. They were not atheistic, yet each professed not to be a follower as well These men I knew I could trust. Most of them were transplanted warriors from the far plains to the south, as was I. I hired Mul’gar and Ha’gar warriors, enemies of the Ha’valli, the tribe that I and my father were bom into. Yet so far north and high up into the Zhygar mountains, such old ties and enmities did not count for much. I hired men who were good shipmates, good hands with sail and helm. I was not concerned with their ancestry. In hiring such men who had come from the far southern plains for one reason or another, I knew I was getting men who had no loyalties to anyone or anything in the city of Triisus. I had a feeling that as the days would pass, their views would soon change. I expected them to become as devoted to the Sa’yen as I and the original five were now, so I wished to hire men who were not of the mountains themselves.
Yet, for all my caution, my planning went asunder. I had the uneasy feeling that the city had heard the first rumors concerning the Master. I had little evidence to go by to base my feelings, but that dark night as we strode up through the twisting cobblestone streets in the growing gloom of twilight, I was sure the Sa’yen’s identity had been whispered from the lips of many of Triisus’s citizens. And as we hurried on, the Lord’s blond-maned head was held high and brightly illuminated by the torch Fidor held up over our heads to light the way, and I dropped to the rear of the group. I feared that we were being watched by prying eyes. The dark shadows of alleys were havens for eyes seeing, yet to be unseen. Turning up a narrow side street, I lingered for a moment at the corner, my ears alert to the sound of footfalls of whoever followed us. I was rewarded for my diligence. I heard the steps of someone following, only two steps, but enough to convince me that indeed my fears were not groundless. Smiling secretly under the hood of my cape, I turned and swiftly ran to catch up with the merry crowd of laughing men. Yet I followed, my cape only loosely wrapped around me, my hand close to the hilt of my long, plainly made rapier.
Fidor threw open the inn’s door and stepped inside, yelling loudly for the proprietor, an old friend of his. I entered, the last of our group, and closed the door behind me. The inn was large, high-roofed, with fresh straw on the floor. A long bar, hewed from a massive Kakla tree, ran the length of the long hall to one side, and at the far end, a huge stone fireplace roared and snapped cheerfully with a warm, brightly burning fire. There were several tables empty, but by far the larger portion of the tables were occupied by common-looking peasants and sailors. Following the rest of the group, I pulled a plain wooden chair up to the table and sat down at the left of the Sa’yen. The proprietor of the inn was a jolly-looking bald man with a bright red nose and a stomach large enough for six men. Wiping his hands with the apron tied around his girth, he moved through the evening’s crowd to our table, yelling a gruff yet warm greeting to Fidor. Soon the fat, laughing owner of the inn and a few of his young servants were wading through the crowd, carrying over their heads platters heavily laden with stout tankards of good mountain ale. When the platters reached the table, hands reached to take the tankards and I followed, though slowly. My eyes were glued to the far door of the inn. I was expecting the mysterious unseen follower who had trailed our party to enter through the inn’s door at any second. Several times I was asked questions on one thing or another but my mind was elsewhere, ami I had to be asked repeatedly before I could tear my attention away from the door. In the middle of one of my comments, the door to the inn opened and a gray-cloaked figure quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him. His entrance captured my thoughts and it took a great effort to bring myself back to die group. As I watched, he turned his back to me and started to throw his cloak off. I felt the Lord lean close to me, and over the roaring of our drinking companions, He spoke to me quietly.
“You seem very interested in that stranger yonder, Mag-dar. Is anything amiss?”
“Eh? Amiss? Perhaps, Master, perhaps. We were followed, My Lord, as we journeyed from the Black Falcon to the inn.”
“Followed?”
“Aye, Lord, followed. Yet methinks we were not followed by that person,” I said, nodding my head toward the tall figure at the far end of the hall who was now hanging his gray cloak upon a wall peg.
The Master looked down the hall at the far figure for a few seconds before looking at me again. He saw a man with very shortly cropped, dark hair, a sharply hooked nose, and dressed in a plain gray robe. He had high cheekbones and shoulders of wide breadth, suggesting controlled power. Around his waist was a piece of dark rope and, to the Master’s surprise, the man was unarmed. He looked at me and I could see the questions in His face.
