The Epic of Garthel- Parts I-III, page 4
part #1 of The Epic of Garthel Series
Lord Raven seemed to sense Arovehar’s hesitation. He smiled disarmingly and attempted to ease the tension, “I am not your typical pompous lord that has been spoiled with a privileged upbringing… I too have seen the harsher side of life. I know how cruel the world can be. I’ve faced death, starvation, wounds and cruelty that only the rich have the gull to dismiss and the poor are forced to lament. So be at ease, weary traveler. I know where you are coming from, and I would like very much to hear what you have to say. How about it? May I be of any aid to you?” He asked again.
The lord’s charms worked. “Perhaps so,” Arovehar explained, “I had a business proposition for Dryden.”
“And you are?” Lord Raven asked courteously.
“I am Arovehar,” He said with a bow and then he shook hands with the lord. “I am an adventurer, treasure hunter and musician.” He claimed, using the opportunity to get a closer look at the ‘Lord’. He had fine dark hair and some well-kept scruff on his face. He looked to be an intelligent man (if looks are anything to judge such things by) in his late-middle years of life and aging well. He had an appearance of both power and leadership, and hidden underneath the forbidding guise Arovehar sensed the scent of a reliable man.
“Always nice to meet new people,” Raven replied with apparent sincerity, either practiced enough to be a good liar or else, and Arovehar considered this to be the less likely option, he was actually interested. “You are a friend of Dryden’s I assume? You come from north? Marr—don’t quite have the look… Face is too rounded and skin is too moist.”
Arovehar had to briefly debate whether to lie about this or not. If he said that he was a friend of Dryden’s, trouble could ensue if he ever had to actually meet him, so he decided on the truth. “No I’m not from Marr, nor have I have never meet Dryden. But I have recently heard of him by way of some mercenaries, and I thought that he could use my expertise.”
Raven raised an eyebrow. “It’s quite possible that he could, and I’m sure that he would be happy to meet with you, but alas, he has business elsewhere at the moment.” Raven said with genuine regret and then furrowed his eyebrows deep in thought. “Perhaps you would like to dine with me instead?” He offered. It was not an offer of pure courtesy. Arovehar could tell that the lord was curious, and wanted to find out more about the mysterious figure before him. Perhaps he is actually interested… how strange. A lord concerned about a commoner?
“I would be glad too,” Arovehar agreed. There was no point in refusing a good meal, and with any luck he would be able to substitute Lord Raven for Dryden with his proposal. They walked to a large side room with a long dark-wood table holding a variety of freshly prepared food and pitchers of dark wine. He sat opposite of Raven, and together they dined.
“Here, have some food, drink some wine. You seem like a reasonable man. Let us discuss the world and its problems.” At his beckoning Arovehar pilled his plate up with quail and boar meat and onions and potatoes. He filled his glass with a bitter wine and drank to his heart’s content. “Before we get too deep into our meal, perhaps you could tell me exactly what business proposal you had in mind for Dryden?” Raven offered.
“As you wish,” Arovehar said. He saw no reason to refuse the lord. In fact, this was what he had been hoping for. “I encountered some mercenaries along the road to Tremblingwater and overheard them talking about getting paid to search for an artifact, I thought that perhaps he could use my experienced help with this... quest.”
Raven raised his eyebrows in surprise and wiped his mouth with a towel. “Mmm… We might be able to use your help at that.” The lord considered it for a while as he chewed on his food. Between gulps he managed to say, “But before I make any decisions, tell me more about what you saw.”
“So those where your men then?” Arovehar confirmed, “Levid was leading them, right? A tall man with gray and orange scruff? I’m most sorry to say that I believe they abandoned you. I saw them headed south on the road—towards Tremblingwater I reckon, likely off to spend their newfound coin on ale and a fair lassies cleavage. I can’t say I blame them. They are simple folk, mercenaries. One should never pay them in advance nor a day late—for both can have most undesirable outcomes.”
“So I see.” Raven said with not so much as a troubled gaze at his supposedly wasted coin. Must be rich. Or too proud to show his shame. “How did you come about this news?”
“I encountered them on the road. I overheard them talking in loud voices about how they had conned a most foolish man into paying them in advance. Not to be rude, but I assume that it was you or your friend Dryden?”
“So it seems.” Raven agreed and shook his head, “I have never been the wisest of men, although I do pride myself on being a good judge of character.” He sighed dismissively. “In truth, I had my doubts about Levid and his ragged company of scoundrels, but an adviser of mine promised that they were honest men. It seems he was misled.” Raven said with another shake of his head, then he took another hefty swig of wine, “It’s no matter, I will find someone else to take their place. There’s always another fool looking to put himself in harm’s way for good coin.”
Arovehar smiled. “Ah, but that’s what I’m here about.” Raven didn’t look surprised. “I am such a fool—been my specialty all my life. I’m a professional relic seeker and adventurer, not an unreliable mercenary. I have built my profession on finding old forgotten ruins in the remote places of the world.”
Suddenly Raven let out a laugh causing Arovehar to halt his rehearsed lie, “How convenient for me!” He said, raising his glass with the calamity of a man used to receiving an audience. “You claim that my mercenaries have defaulted on me, and then offer yourself as an alternative. That’s a most coincidental event, wouldn’t you say?” Lord Raven said cleverly and then swirled his glass of wine as he sat it back on the table and ate a large quail without bothering to conduct common manners.
Arovehar was stunned for an instant at the lord’s cunning. He knew his plan wasn’t flawless, but he didn’t expect it to appear so transparent. Either I’m dumber than I think I am or this man’s even shrewder than he appears.
“You can call it a coincidence if you like, but that’s what happened.” He offered, wagering on the bed he’d already made himself. As his father once said: ‘Better to get caught in a lie than to admit wrongdoing.’
Lord Raven looked up from his dinner and met Arovehar’s gaze with shrewd domineer and shining eyes. “I don’t believe in coincidences—only the odds.” He simply said and took a large bite of meat. For a while he said nothing more. “All the same, I do see something pleasantly familiar about you. You certainly aren’t telling me the full story concerning my mercenary’s, I don’t really care why, but you do have the look of an adventurer about you.” He confirmed and then looked Arovehar over as if examining an interesting book cover and trying to guess it’s contents. “Hmmmm… I’ll put it to you simply, no more dancing around on false truths and assumptions; will you retrieve an artifact for me?”
“For the right price, I will. And I am the best of the best in such matters.” He lied with his heart in his throat.
“Then it can’t hurt to have another man out searching for it. Very well—you shall have your wish. I will hire you. Let us discuss business.”
“Agreed,” Arovehar said and finished cleaning his plate of any remaining food. He tried not to let his happiness show. It would be an amateur mistake, but the joy in his heart was overflowing and he couldn’t help but sway in the chair like a child promised a new toy. A good meal and a good job offered to me just like that; everything is going remarkably smooth. Now if I can just learn about the specifics of this artifact hunt and negotiate a hefty payment, I can be on my merry way before my true motives are discovered.
“You’ll be looking for an old artifact, rumored to be crafted by an ancient and powerful race, I assume you’ve dwelt with such things before?” Arovehar nodded and Lord Raven continued. “It is an amulet, crafted and engraved with the long forgotten magic of our forefathers. I have read many ancient manuscripts and they all seem to suggest that it’s last home was in the heart of the Plyith Mountains, Mt. Plyith itself, so it seems—once a hub of a mighty civilization, now a desolate ruin for creatures of unknowable depravity. My research suggests that there was once a grand city built upon that mountain, and in that city was the priceless amulet—The Amulet of Snow and Ice, or the Amulet of Stationary Waters as it would’ve been called if I am translating it properly. With these old languages it can be so hard to tell…” He rambled off for a while and looked past Arovehar in thought. He shook some inner idea from his head and continued, “Aside from this knowledge, I have little more than old maps that I’ve copied of where the artifact may be. They are very generalized, and it’s difficult to tell exactly what or where the artifact is.” Raven clapped his hands twice and the servant appeared. “Fetch me the artifact maps,” Raven commanded and the servant bowed and left, “Do you have any questions so far?” He asked expectantly, quickly turning back to Arovehar.
“If you’ll pardon my rudeness briefly, I would wonder what exactly you are lord of?” Arovehar wondered. It was an off-topic question, but his curiosity had been nagging at him since they had first meet. What would someone who called himself a lord be doing out in a tower in the middle of nowhere? Something didn’t add up. There was more to this ‘lord’ Raven than met the eyes. The way he talks, his knowledge and commanding aura—perhaps he’s nothing more than a kooky collector of old junk, but it seems unlikely.
Raven considered the question seriously… Something that most lords wouldn’t do, and it confirmed in Arovehar’s mind that there was something irregular about lord Raven’s stature. After reflecting on the question for a while, Raven at last responded. “I am the Lord of this tower, and little else, for now. Though at one time, I was a true Lord… I was a noble lord of a noble land.” Raven sighed from a heavy memory, “Now though, I am simply a noble man with a hollowed title, and the land that I once ruled has turned far from noble in the countless years of my neglect.”
“What land did you used to rule?”
He waved his hand. “It is of little consequence, Arovehar.” Raven dismissed the matter, “It is all in the distant past. Now, do you have any questions about your job? I might be lax in my appearance, but I will expect results.”
“I am rather curious as to why you want this artifact. Are you skilled in Rune Reading and this artifact is simply a passing fancy, or is this task of greater important to you?” He asked.
“Interesting question. At the moment, let us just say that it is a passing fancy, although it could lead to be more if your efforts prove fruitful.” Raven replied and then studied Arovehar’s face once again. “To turn the tables for a moment, I have a rather strange question for you, but I would be pleased if you would indulge me.” Raven wondered, and Arovehar gestured for him to continue. “You seem to be a clever man. Have you heard tell of the happenings far to the east, in Genyack?”
“I have heard little, only rumors.”
The strange happenings in Genyack were the talk of every town and inn, so he had heard quite a bit of speculation. Apparently, the land of Genyack had been taken over by an unknown race. No one knew the specifics, but everyone talked about it in hushed voices and fear. That wasn’t the only popular rumor though, there was also talk of the magicians in Highen conducting strange experiments, and that is what Arovehar had paid the most attention too. A large group of mages that lived in one kingdom was bound to be trouble as far as most people were concerned. Arovehar wasn’t so sure of this. The few mages he had met in his lifetime seemed to be quite ordinary folks, perhaps a bit calculating, but certainly not scary or any more ambitious than ordinary. But Terthland was a mage fearing land. Superstitious. Old-fashion. Common opinion wasn’t to be trusted. Too tainted by fear.
Arovehar found himself curious about what Raven would have to say about it all.
“Indeed. This lack of information seems to be the case with everyone. A whole nation taken over by unknown invaders and no one even knows anything about it… don’t you find that a little odd?”
“I’d say more than a little,” Arovehar agreed.
“Yes, well, let’s just say that there are many similarly odd things going on in the world of late, for instance, give me your honest opinion of our fair Lord Preandor. Do you approve of his ruling?”
This was fairly dangerous ground to tread. Arovehar was no fan of the current lord of Terthland, but it would’ve not been wise to say so… And yet, there was something about Raven that encouraged honesty. Arovehar couldn’t place it, but he found himself genuinely trusting the man.
So Arovehar abandoned caution and decided to go with his gut. “Without being treasonous, I would call him nothing more than a fat lord that is little other than a puppet ruler for the more powerful.”
These words caused Raven to nod in approval, “And you would be right to say so. Preandor has long agreed with everything that the High King commands. He is a pompous spineless fool that will lead us to our downfall, if we are not careful.” Raven fumed with fury rising on his face. This was not something that many common folk would admit. Perhaps lords are more used to speaking their mind—a luxury that tends to put men like me behind bars.
Arovehar set down his glass of wine and met eyes with the lord. “I agree with what you say, although I doubt there’s much we can do about it. Does this tie into what you were previously talking about in any way? Are you suggesting these developments are related?”
Raven appeared mildly irritated at the question, “I don’t know.” He said simply, and then went on to elaborate when he saw Arovehar questioning his sanity. “You see, everyone wants to control how things will turn out so everyone plans and schemes… I am a slave to such thoughts. I too plan and plot and scheme… But I really don’t know. I just wanted your opinion on some current events, that is all. These days I don’t get many opportunities to speak with everyday citizens, and please, take no offense at that term. If it means anything to you, know that I find you to be a man of reason, little like others that would call themselves leaders.” At this point, the servant returned with several maps and Arovehar moved his chair to sit beside Raven and look at them.
For a while they discussed routes to take and supplies needed and in the end Arovehar convinced Raven to pay him twenty silver coins up-front for expenses and fifty upon delivery. As the night crawled on they talked of many things and it ended up that they were of a mind in many thoughts both political and philosophical.
“Would you like to spend the night here?” Raven asked out of courtesy when a late hour in the night had approached.
“Actually, I would prefer to set out right away.” Arovehar answered, if only because he actually preferred to sleep by the open road instead of on a bed. Besides, the longer that I’m in his presence, the more likely it is that I’ll be caught in a lie.
“Very well. I look forward to seeing you again, Arovehar; you seem to be a good man. I will expect delivery of the amulet in three weeks’ time, if you should arrive later, I’m afraid that I shall be elsewhere in the world, and you will not be able to receive your payment.”
“Can I ask where you’ll be?” Arovehar wondered out of curiosity.
“I will be attempting to save the world from itself.” Lord Raven said with a smile. Arovehar chose to accept that response and bowed once more to Raven, bade him farewell and then walked out of the large double doors.
Once he was outside and well away from the tower, Arovehar laughed to himself. He knew that the conversation couldn’t have gone much better. He now had twenty silver coins to his name and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make much more—and all because he had lied. Perhaps being a treasure hunter wouldn’t be such a bad job. Dealing with rich lords is bound to have its benefits—I might not like the bunch as a whole, but their coin spends as well as any—even better than most.
It was amazing what a few words said with confidence could do. Fortunes changed in the matter of moments.
Since the mercenaries where still out on the road looking for the artifact, he reluctantly realized that they could present a problem. But he didn’t have to worry about that just yet. When the time came, perhaps he would have vengeance, or perhaps they would never cross paths again. Either way, it didn’t really matter. He would deal with his problems one at a time… And it had been a successful night.
Yes, Arovehar thought to himself, now all I have to do is find an amulet and deal with my rivals; a damned artifact hunt. He never cared for stories about artifact hunts. They lacked meaning. But this tale was only just beginning…
V
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The Moving City
He walked for a long time headed in the direction of Tremblingwater, the legendary city that moved across Lake Darc. Arovehar wasn’t much of a hunter, so he thought that traveling to a city to stock up on food before the venture to the Plyith Mountains would be solid place to start. His previous venture into the mountains suggested that he would need thicker clothes and a better tent.
But he was tired. After he backtracked to the main road where the tower pathway branched off of, he set up his tent. He pulled out his lute and played a gentle tune under the midnight stars, and then he let the noises of the forest sing him to sleep. He dreamed of the usual things: Killing and loving. They were such simple things, yet satisfying to the primitive instincts that lurk in the corner of every civilized being.
