Chapter 17

From Toreas

Shimon found out his friend was not in town but would return soon. He decided they would stay and wait for him.

Eric tried a few times to pry more out of the old man. He refused to talk. His questions about Taji'ra and how the old man had disarmed the highly skilled female warrior went unanswered. Trying to resolve those nagging feelings, Eric went back twice to the courtyard, but he didn't encounter her again. The night he decided to clear his mind for now, he dreamed about her.

He was watching her. She was alone, looking frail and lost, moving through the city which was devoid of any other human beings. Her pale skin shone in contrast to the gloom surrounding her. She moved through dirty alleys, yet remained unsullied in her simple white shift as if she was not of this world. It seemed to Eric that she was looking for someone. It occurred to him that it was Shimon she was desperately searching for but unable to find him. Suddenly she stood in front of Eric. She opened her mouth. He thought she wanted to say something but couldn't speak. Then she touched his arm.

"Get up," Shimon said. "We have to go." He slowly pulled his hand away from Eric's arm where a moment ago Taji'ra had touched him in his dream.

He could not remember ever having a dream this vivid. It felt like he had been there, like she had been right in front of him. Shaking the dream off, he untangled himself from the hay.

Their luxury of privacy came with the coins that now sat in the stable owners pocket. Shimon was adamant about not attracting attention, and the hayloft was more comfortable than most of the places Eric had slept in the past months.

It was still dark outside but a faint glow announced the sun would soon rise. Passing through the inner gates, they arrived quickly at their destination. With almost nobody out and about at this hour traveling was so much easier.

Shimon stopped at a large stone house which had a sign hanging outside with the Merchants' Guild insignia on it. Although most houses here looked more sturdier than the ones in the outer city, this one was more like a small fortress than a normal house. Its walls were thicker, all windows too small for an adult to get in or out of and additionally secured with metal bars against smaller thieves.

A well dressed servant opened the door. After a glance at Shimon and Eric, he nodded and led them deeper into the home. The servant showed them into a room off the main corridor with a large desk in the middle and walls filled with cupboards and shelves. On the shelves there were scrolls, books and a few trinkets. Everything looked important and expensive. The only light source in the room was a small lamp with two candles sitting on the desk. It lit up the desk sufficiently to work on and left the rest of the room in a half gloom, visible but not really bright. Even with the two small windows on one wall, it would not get much brighter in here even with the sun up, Eric thought.

Before the servant could fully close the door from the outside Shimon addressed the only other person in the room.

"Good to see you returned healthy and unharmed, Roman."

Behind the desk was man who appeared older than Shimon. Dressed in fine clothes, his hair was graying yet his face had a lot of wrinkles.

He looked up. His face went slack for a moment, his eyes wide before he crunched it up again in what Eric thought must be his standard mask of disdain for his surroundings. That probably served him well in his profession as a merchant.

"Ah, you. I thought you died in some dark corner a long time ago", the merchant said.

"Everyone seems to have that idea somehow, and then they are surprised when it's not the case." Shimon tapped his lower lip.

"Hardly. Rather the crazy thing you are up to and the fact that everyone thinks they will outlive you", Roman scoffed.

Shimon nodded. "Many have made that mistake." He turned to Eric and gestured him to come forward. "This is my travel companion, Eric. He is trustworthy."

The man called Roman nodded to him then returned his gaze to Shimon. "Here for money, are you?"

"No, but a refill of my reserves is a good idea. Two small bags are sufficient, thank you."

Roman yelled a name Eric didn't catch. A heartbeat later the door opened, and the servant who had let them in reappeared.

"Fill two small bags from the red chest in the corner and bring them to me," the old merchant commanded.

The servant acknowledged and slid silently out through the door, closing it again.

"Thank you Roman," Shimon began once they were alone again. "The reason we are here is that we are in need of the other coin which makes you such good fortunes."

Roman harrumphed. "You need information. Here is a good hint, stay away from the baron, he loathes your kind. His first speech as baron was about how the ancients are a superstition and the wanderers charlatans."

"His brothers blood was still drying on his hands when he made that speech I assume?"

A chuckle came from the old merchant. "Yes, very much so. Please forgive me to be so rude, I'm not used to being able to talk freely very often."

"Nothing to forgive my friend, but you are quite right. We ran into your charge and she told us about the change in power. This might have been very ugly if we had gone to the baron directly," Shimon said.

"Knowing you, it would have ended in a large battle where you walk out over a sea of blood." The merchant shuddered at the thought. "Not something I want to see in my old age."

"Theodore was friendly towards me, but I clearly remember that his brother is a petty little brat that only wants more power and possessions for himself. I'm certain he's a bastard child, there is no other explanation that he could turn out this nasty."

Shimon looked down, his eyes losing focus fixed on something distant only he could see. When he looked up again, his gaze was as clear as usual, but small wrinkles were visible around his eyes. His eyes locked with Roman's.

"How is she, I mean, how is she really?" Shimon asked.

The merchant sighed. "From what I can tell, bad. Since Jeremias Moran took over, she has been odd at times. Severely hurt a few soldiers in training once. The baron used her to kill entire villages when they didn't acknowledge him as their direct ruler. Every night he has her chained up in the deepest dungeons. He has taken her to his chamber once but from what I was told, he wasn't really getting into the mood. I think she terrifies him, but is too valuable for him to kill her. Now he uses her like a tool to kill, to intimidate and sometimes like a whore, to entertain guests. Only if you have known her for a long time, you can see the faint expressions of sadness on her face."

Eric's eyebrows shot up. The sadness was written clear as day in her face for anyone to see if you just looked at it.

Shimon sighed. "Yes, that's what I thought I saw. It's been a long time and dismissed it as sad wishful thinking to one part. I will pay for this until the end of my life."

"Or until the end of hers," Roman said. "Not suggesting anything, my Friend," he added hastily as Shimons face dropped into an inscrutable mask, "Simply noting that she can die out there any day as well."

"The only way she would die is by treachery or command. It's very unlikely that she get hit by a carriage or a tile slipping from a roof would kill her."

"Are you going to... you know?" Roman asked.

"No. Killing him would leave not only the city but the entire region without leadership. There is nobody else to pick up the reigns and that would hurt more than help the people. Unless he does something worse against his subjects I can't do anything in that regard."

"What about her?" Roman asked.

Eric was expecting some outburst.

Shimon showed none those signs but replied calmly. "This isn't about her or me Roman."

"Only thinking out loud. I'm not so sure I would have your resolve if I was in your position Shimon. She is still the most beautiful woman I have seen in all my travels. There might even be some more powerful nobles who, if they heard about her, would send troops to kidnap her."

Shimon laughed harshly. "Yes, stupidity dies hard. If they succeeded in getting her away from here, she would fight and slaughter them every step of the way. In the end she would be back where she started or dead, no matter what. But no, what I want for myself is not important Roman. We are here for a very special item, something that is even more dangerous than Taji'ra."

"And are you going to tell me now what that might be?" Roman asked.

"A document that I have heard is on display in the baron's audience hall."

The merchant made a face as if he swallowed something nasty.

"Bah, the baron hauls everyone with money or rank there once a month. He has us all parade through, give a couple of words, bow our heads and gives one of his dreadful speeches." The merchant seemed to think. "A document on display, you say, well there is one strange piece. Looks very old, has writing on it that can be read but makes no sense, scribbles on the margins, some drawings even."

"That would be it. We need it." Shimon said.

Eric expected the merchant to ask why, or what it was, but instead he just went to the task at hand, getting it.

"With his dislike for wanderers you won't be able to get it easily that's for certain. If the nasty little bastard finds out that it has any value to you, forget ever getting it. You can't buy it, he would try to milk you dry and then cheat you out of what you bought anyways. There is only one way I see, just take it."

Eric's brow furrowed but he remained silent.

"So we have to break into the hall and steal it. Simple enough. What can you tell me about how well the place is guarded?" Shimon inquired.

"Too much, you won't like it." Roman leaned back in his large chair. "It's guarded at all times by a dozen guards. He has many trinkets on display there and is frightened that someone might steal something. The paper is in a case as secure as it gets, with thick glass and the best locks money can buy. But even if you could get past the guards and get it, you would have all his soldiers on your tail if he would notice something missing."

Roman's servant came in and deposited two small bags on his employers desk, leaving as quietly as he entered. It jarred a bit on Eric's nerves to see how smoothly and silently the man moved. Eric had noticed he had hidden at least one blade beneath his clothing. This meant there were certainly more blades. A simple servant he was not.

"So it's not simple," Shimon continued the conversation. "Not the first time I have done something difficult as you well know."

"The last thief that tried, was left hanging on the castle wall for a month. He didn't look so good after a couple days already, at the end of the month it turned stomachs even for the more hardened soldiers," the merchant returned.

"Becoming an ornament for the barons walls is not my intention Roman. I have an idea on how to avoid that. Do you still employ some good forger?" Shimon asked.

"You're insulting me with that question. I employ the best forgers of the city."

"Good, that should solve one problem," Shimon said. "Send for him and have him create a copy of the page, the visible part at least. It doesn't have to be perfect but pass a glance, which is more than most would give it."

Roman nodded and grabbed a piece of paper and a quill to write a note. "I've got the man for the job. It will take some time though to get him close to it so he can copy it. Maybe a week or two, is that acceptable?"

"Yes, that will do. We simply switch the pages and the baron wont notice it went missing."

"Good, and what about the soldiers? You can't move within fifty paces of the place without being stopped by two patrols, let alone the guards right in front of the hall," Roman said.

"We will have to use the only other thing that draws soldiers fast, without their swords in their hand: a large fire. This should also make certain he won't use Taji'ra. With the soldiers busy dousing the fire, nobody will be looking for us."

Eric laughed at that and said: "Now that's crazy, old man. You want to burn down the city so you can steal one piece of paper?"

"He talks," Roman noted. "I thought he was mute."

"I talk when I have something to say", Eric replied.

"Fair enough," the merchant conceded. "But I take it you don't know him for a long time yet, let me tell you, that would be one of the less crazy things he has done since I know him."

"Not crazy. Maybe a bit excessive," Shimon said.

"A bit? Fifty soldiers dead, dozens of mines destroyed, two mining camps leveled and that's only a bit? It took months to figure out what all was destroyed and years to open up only one of those mines. If anything is excessive, that is my friend," Roman said.

"Compared to the lives of thousands, including your own, that was saved and the many conflicts this quelled it was a small price to pay. You know I don't take lives lightly."

"Yes of course," Roman said, "I'm simply concerned about losing my home should you decide to light the city on fire."

"Some smoke might stain your walls and maybe some damage to the roof, but that's the worst that could happen," Shimon said.

"I know that little damage and no damage are not very far in your distinction. They are in mine. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get building materials with all those new buildings being erected all over the city? Most of them are even taken by the baron himself and it's impossible to hide something like a large shipment of timber. With winter coming, I would appreciate a roof over my head, as would any of the citizens."

Shimon waved it off. "Don't worry. The damage will be very close to the castle and the castle itself. And you might not need to go to that audience hall that often anymore."

Eric was observing quietly their exchange and wondered how long the men knew each other. They talked like they had known each other for all their life, like the wanderer had done with Galro Kardo. In the case of the small southerner, that could not have been longer than a few years, though Kardo trusted Shimon with his life. And Roman here, he was warming up to a rather nice guy once the harsh merchant in him was melting away. They knew each other for a long time for certain. For the time he was alive, he had not heard about any large disaster in the north and news travels fast, bad news twice as fast. So it must have been something that happened when they were both young men.

"And now what?" Roman asked. "You run around with flint and steel, and let some buildings catch fire, then wait until the soldiers come to put it out and try your luck?"

"No," Shimon replied. "I have something different in mind, but I need some ingredients. Can you get them for me?"

Roman nodded and penned down a list of things. It wasn't much, the entire list would fit in a single bucket. Eric only ever heard of one thing that Shimon dictated and that was coal.

Reading the list to himself again, Roman raised both his eyebrows, glanced at Shimon and then eyed the list again. "Here I was thinking, I would outlive you but now I'm almost certain this won't be the case after all."