The Taleweaver

The city rose above them like a shadow of death. Stone, stone, everywhere stone, and a large portion of the walls seemed to be hewn directly from the mountain side. Harbend could see the city climbing the mountain until it ended at the base of a cliff wall soaring into the mountains above. It was ugly beyond belief and yet majestic in its compact greyness.

The road climbed steeply to the city walls, but first they had to pass through the outer city. It was a little bit like the one outside of Ri Nachi, but as Belgera hugged the mountain there was no way to avoid going through the outer town. It was called Downtown for a good reason. Almost all of it lay literally beneath the city walls with not a single house erected closer than two lamps from the walls so nothing could climb the earthworks under the base of them without being seen.

They were still a far distance from the town when people started to gather along the road to watch the spectacle. Most were silent, but some cheered as the wagons passed by. The people here looked more like those in Keen or Kordar than those from Ri Khi. Light in complexion, blond or sometimes red haired. Children played in the dirt, but the sight of the caravan soon caught their attention and they joined their elders watching the wagons in wonder.

Harbend sat up straighter. If they wanted a show he wasn't going to be the one to make them disappointed. He waved at the faces he saw and was in turn greeted by waves and shouts of encouragement. It must have been a long time since they saw anyone who didn't live here, and the ships probably never allowed their crews this far inland.

He rode on feeling somewhat like an item on exhibition, but it only made him feel better. They had struggled for so long to reach this goal, and he didn't intend to allow the modesty his station demanded to interfere with his wellbeing. At the moment he enjoyed the cheering intensely. Tomorrow there would be business to take care of, but now was a proper time for celebration. The elation was intoxicating.

It took the better part of two days to settle the members of the caravan in the city, and when they were done all inns were filled to capacity. In reality most traders were housed with families who wanted to make some unexpected money from the arrivals, something Harbend had told Arthur was a very lucky turn of events.

That didn't need any explaining. After months spent with the wagon train Arthur was more than tired of going to sleep dirty and cold. The capture, awful as it had been, had still broken the endless monotony of the journey, and he had a dim memory of something happening. Most of the traders had not even seen the battle where they finally broke off any further attempts at recapture.

Arthur grimaced with ill hidden distaste. He'd seen very little of the fighting itself, but he had seen the grounds where it had occurred afterwards. It must have been a bad fight, and he was surprised so few of their escort were killed. So many bodies in the snow, most of them badly mutilated. Arthur wondered what could have made the soldiers from Gaz so desperate they continued fighting after loosing limbs. Fanatics, they must have been filled with some mad warrior's ideal, or possibly something even worse.

Arthur sighed. Warrior's ideal. Gring why don't you tell me what happened?

She never answered when asked and he had to satisfy with her refreshing frankness in all other matters. He asked Harbend, but he knew nothing, and asking the golden mage was out of the question. She was an uncomfortable acquaintance at the best of times.

For the moment Arthur was happy enough to explore the city by himself or in the company of friends. He did appreciate it as a city even though it wasn't large enough to be a suburb on Earth, but the last months had taught him something about proportions, and now he walked among the gray stone houses with the same feeling of wonder as if he had just arrived in one of the many exotic capitals at home.

Another thing gave him pause. Earth was home, but he thought less and less of it in those terms for every month he spent here. This was a violent and barbaric world, filled with death and disgusting deeds, but somehow it still felt more alive than the placid world he'd grown up on.

Apart from the silent parts of the central city this place was vibrant with life, almost like Verd, but in a very different way. Belgera was built in a harsher part of the world, and even though it shared some of the magical wonders people here still had to fend for themselves more actively.

Most streets needed cleaning, and water had to be brought from wells. Apart from a few broad avenues Belgera was a maze of narrow streets ending in small squares with a well in the middle and shops strewn along their sides.

Then, of course, there was the immense cliff climbing into the clouds walling he city on three sides. Arthur didn't know how many hundred meters of vertical stone it was. Maybe thousands, and it all blocked any chance of the sun ever reaching here. It was a shadowy world, constantly lit by lamps and the occasional torch. In a city of dusk and night people made out their lives and created things of astonishing beauty, but sometimes Arthur longed for some greenery.

He had to admire anyone who managed to bring more life to this vastness of stone than he had ever met on Earth. Only the arrogant inhabitants on Mars kept up a similar show, but then they were all supposed to be a little crazy. Arthur wondered if the proximity of death was needed to give life a meaning. Now that was a depressing thought.

One morning he strolled around with Harbend after they had managed to shake off the demands of traders, both members of the caravan as well as traders local to Belgera. They were in search for a late breakfast when they got lost and found themselves at the city wall. Arthur was about to turn when something caught his interest. A small sign bolted to the wall itself. He leaned closer to give it a better look. He could almost see the letters, but had to wipe them with his sleeve first. They were readable, faint but still readable. He turned in surprise.

"Harbend, it's in De Vhatic."

Harbend retraced his steps at Arthur's words. "Yes, so it would seem," he said after studying the sign. "What about it?"

"But I thought you said they don't speak De Vhatic here, and I don't understand a word they say unless Gring is with me."

"They do not," Harbend replied, smiling.

"But?"

"You forget that Keen has been one of the most important trading partners Braka have, if not the most important, since I fail to know how long. Long before World War anyway."

Arthur gave Harbend a long and sullen glare. "World War?"

"Yes, World War, God War, the Great War, Mage Wars, Dragonwrath or a dozen other names. You have listened to enough heroic tales from that time to be familiar with it by now." Harbend shrugged, and Arthur knew it would take him years yet to unveil secrets that were everyday knowledge to others. The thought brought another revelation to him. Otherworld was slowly becoming home to him in a way Earth hadn't been for more than half a decade. Years, yes years, was what he saw coming, and the prospect of spending a long time, if not the rest of his life here didn't seem disturbing at all. A wave of relief and satisfaction slowly spread through his body and he smiled back to his friend.

"You have to tell me of those events some day. I would like to know more about your history. Now, though, I would like to know what it says here."

Harbend bent to read the faded inscription.

"It fails to say much. It is old. Honor the valor of Krante. Something like that."

"Krante? I've heard that name before."

"Yes you have. A large town southeast of Verd. Boring place, but with a well known legend about its regiment."

"Saying?"

"You really should hear it from a storyteller, but in short they were called upon to scout through the mountains around here. Very few survived and those who did were received as great heroes when they came home. There are songs about it as well, quite melodramatic ones. The theater has had plays based on the story of course."

"The charge of the light brigade," Arthur murmured silently.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, really. Just a memory from home."

A buzzing around his temples made him look up and he noted Gring coming their way. A bearded man in heavy leather coat and a broad brimmed hat accompanied her. He was short and stocky, bordering on fat. They closed while talking to each other and Arthur wondered how she'd made herself a companion here where her kind was widely hated.

The man glanced at Arthur and the sign he'd tried to read. "Interested in history, are you?"

"Well, yes, a bit. I just read this." Arthur pointed at the sign.

"Ah, for Krante."

"Yes, they still honor their memory in Keen from what I've heard."

"In Keen? That's strange."

"How so? Krante isn't far away from Verd, and the soldiers apparently did something very heroic."

"Oh, yes, all honor to Krante. I just didn't know it was part of Keen. Especially considering how events unfolded."

"What events?"

"Well, to begin with they were sent out to die, and from what I know several of those who survived anyway were hanged."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I guess if you're lucky enough to run into a taleweaver one day you'll know what really happened. It's ancient history. Only they know, or anyone who's listened to one of them."

Interesting tidbits of information. So there was history revision here as well. "You don't happen to have one of these taleweavers living here, do you?"

"No, no," the man laughed, "we don't see any of them very often. Five years or more since the last time I'd say."

Arthur shrugged. Asking didn't cost him anything. "If I'm not too bold, may I ask you where to find a meal here? You would of course be very welcome to join us."

"Thank you. I think I'll accept." He gave Gring an uneasy glance. "You do know you'll be asked to vouch for her on the pain of your own lives?"

Arthur followed the look. "Eh, isn't that a bit strong?"

"He's right. My brethren in the mountains still war with the halfmen here."

"Halfmen?"

"They are the only humans to themselves. They need to call the rest of us something else, and they are much larger, don't you agree?" Arthur hastily interjected as explanation to avoid an unpleasant exchange of words. "I've been impolite. My name is Arthur Wallman. I'm what you call an outworlder."

The man tugged at his hat with his fingers. "Karia Graig." He looked at Gring and suddenly roared with laughter. "Halfmen, that's what you call us? I'll tell the rest, with your permission of course," he added, irony spicing his mirth.

"Of course. What do you call us? Twicemen?"

Karia laughed even louder. "No, no, you're just Khraga to us."

"Yes, we are human. I know that."

Arthur could see the confusion in Gring's face. He could almost imagine why. In a way she was a lot more straightforward than any human. There was no deceit in her, but she did expect it from almost anyone who wasn't Khraga, and he could see how she tried to find out the hidden meaning in the laughter she faced. Arthur guessed there were not many who laughed in the face of a Khraga, or at least not expecting to live afterwards.

"Khraga, what is your name? You know mine, and I dislike talking to a nameless face." There was a hint of a threat to Karia's tone, but Arthur had the feeling it wasn't directed at anyone. It seemed more like a natural extension to the man's character.

"I am Gring ghara Khat, Mindwalker, messenger and scout."

"You would be, of course. Then, Gring ghara Khat, when you are once again among your own, tell your brethren you've spoken with Karia Graig. I am maybe only a halfman then. A scout myself, but mindwalking is not a gift of mine."

"If you want me to, I will."

Karia laughed again, a friendlier laugh this time.

"Tell them we halfmen will be twice as ready next time we meet", he added, and once again there was a dangerous edge to his voice.

Arthur gave Karia a second look. Under all those layers of heavy clothes only muscles were evident. Not fat, only muscles, and he'd said enough to make it clear he must have fought Khraga more than once. Arthur wondered what it took for a man to seek battle with the monstrous giants, but looking at the city he suspected that any people building such a forbidding place must have added more than a little of their personalities to it.

It was a silent group walking through the narrow streets, silent as the city itself. Belgera might be populated by humans like himself, but they were severe in a way Arthur hadn't seen anywhere else, astonishingly beautiful art aside. He realized he'd only seen children playing in the outer city. This part was almost lifeless. It was not that it was empty. Hard faced men strode down the streets, always looking as if they had a goal in mind, never strolling aimlessly, and there were very few faces to be seen showing any joy. It was a depressing place for depressed people, Arthur decided. The absence of women among the stony faces they met disturbed him as well. He wondered if they were locked up or simply had the good sense to avoid this part of the town.

Arthur began to have second thoughts about the wisdom in choosing to eat here instead of in the outer town which promised to be much more lively. And with more women to lighten up the atmosphere, he added as an afterthought.

Not that he had any interest in women. Especially after what he'd done to Chaijrild. That memory still clung to him, but he'd been lonely at the time. There would be no repeating of it. The self made promise made him feel stupid. As if he'd been the only one to grab relief available. She had seduced Captain Trindai after failing to bed Harbend earlier. He, though he believed himself to come from a world far more civilized than this place of violence, on the other hand, had forced himself upon a girl less than half his age when she was still asleep, and there could be nothing forgiving that. Still occupied by his thoughts he almost failed to notice when Karia stopped and bade them enter.

Arthur cast the man a grateful glance. Finding a good restaurant in Belgera, no matter if it was somber or not, would have been a quest in itself for someone who'd never been here. Arthur suspected Gring's presence wouldn't have helped either.

He followed Karia over the doorstep and found himself in a building looking as much as a fortress on the inside as from the outside.

Damn, these people must be a depressed lot. He fervently hoped the food wouldn't mirror the dark, stony interior and the few grave faces already occupying a few tables.

A heavily muscled man blocked his way and pointed at Gring.

"The Khraga goes with me." Arthur said. He'd been expecting something like this from Karia's previous comments.

The man, owner of the establishment or a guard, it was hard to tell, looked at Karia who nodded, and they were let in.

Arthur looked into the room he entered and was met by startled gasps. Well, they were probably aimed at Gring rather than at him, but it made little difference. To his relief the diners made no attempts of acting but verbally to their surprise. He stared back at them.

Marching between tables he had time to take in more of the nature of the people dining here than he wanted to. Arthur had no problems guessing what the peculiar racks standing beside each table was for. Weapons of all kinds belonging to the diners were placed for easy access so that not even during a meal a man should be unable to immediately rush into action. Arthur's mood sank even further. What he saw didn't match Karia's previous assertion that the capital was so impregnable no enemy would ever dare to attack it.

The food, to Arthur's great relief, didn't turn out so bad after all. It was a far cry from the fantastic meals he enjoyed in Verd but still tasty if a bit too salty. Mutton and what tasted like potatoes made up most of it, and it was accompanied by a generous assortment of bread and dried fruit. He tried two kinds of ale and a hot beverage strong in alcohol and spice. The ales were decent, but the liquor lost most of its appetizing qualities as its temperature dropped.

Arthur turned his interest from his food to his companions at the table. Gring was, unsurprisingly, trying to look indifferent to the hostile glances she received from the other guests, and Arthur couldn't but help sympathize with her. Here she was much more of an unwanted stranger than he was. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, but she hardly seemed to notice him.

Harbend was involved in a discussion concerning trading opportunities with Karia, and the topic obviously didn't interest the latter.

In an attempt to rescue their invited host Arthur broke into the conversation. "Karia, concerning the distance between Braka and Keen, why is the relation between you important enough to warrant our presence. Your point of view, of course."

Karia shot him a surprised look. "Wasn't that obvious from the plaque you read earlier? We were allied during that war for historical reasons even then. We still are."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, but excuse someone who's unfamiliar with your shared history."

Karia shook his head. "Braka was settled by people from around Keen in ancient times. We've shared a bond ever since." He raised his glass in an ironic toast.

"And that bond is only one of trading?" Arthur grinned at Harbend to make his friend understand it was only friendly banter.

"Today, yes, I guess that's the case, but earlier it was more than so. We even founded Harkiler to ensure that the bond wouldn't break."

"Harkiler?"

"That's the town at the sea. Coming here with ships was very dangerous before the harbor was built."

"It still is," Harbend shot in.

"Yes, I know, but we don't have a sailing army the way you do, and the ships from the west don't trouble us much."

"Why not?" Arthur asked before he realized his question could be answered in more than one way.

"I don't know. Perhaps they can't find anything to fight." Karia shrugged.

"No, what I meant is why don't you have a fleet of your own?"

Karia didn't answer and his face showed only incomprehension.

"A sailing army," Harbend added helpfully.

"Ah, well, it's too far from here to the sea. We only built the town to make sure ships from Keen would continue to come here."

"Too far?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, it takes an eightday to travel there, and most of us live close to Belgera."

"You mean the time it takes for anyone to travel between this harbor town of yours and Belgera is the only reason you haven't developed the opportunities a good harbor would give you?"

"Yes, I guess so. It's been a matter of discussion for as long as I can remember, but you can't do much about distance unless you have jump mages willing to take up a permanent position to transport people between two cities."

"That's stupid," Arthur said and almost immediately regretted his words.

"You're not from here, so I'll forgive your impoliteness," Karia responded.

"I'm sorry, but distance is about time rather than anything else, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course. As I said, this has been a matter of heated discussions for a long time, but Harkiler is simply too far away from here."

"But you could avoid all that with a good road to the harbor."

"Now that's an expertise I didn't expect from your side. What's your profession?"

Arthur thought for a few moments before he answered. "I'm a taleweaver."

Karia exchanged looks with Harbend, and apparently the men made a silent agreement. About what Arthur was not sure of.

"You did say earlier you're an outworlder, didn't you?"

"Yes," Arthur answered not knowing what direction the conversation was taking.

"Now, that's novel. What do you mean about the road?" Karia asked, evidently wanting Arthur to explain further.

"Well, you do agree transports within the city walls take a shorter time compared to in the countryside? Especially during rain or snow."

"Of course." Karia smiled.

"You of all people should be able to quickly lay a paved road all the way to the harbor."

"Why?"

"I've seen that you deposit stone in great heaps around Belgera. From mining?"

"Yes. The rubble is a waste product from tunneling."

"You could as well use it for road building. You don't even need to open up a designated quarry."

"Are you certain?" Karia asked.

"Hell, yes!"

"That's interesting. My father sits in the city council. Would you mind speaking with him?"

"No, of course not," Arthur answered without thinking.

Karia exchanged a grin with Harbend. "Good. I'll set up a meeting between the two of you, and maybe a few more." Karia smiled, and when Arthur saw the calculating eyes glittering he knew that once again he had embarked upon something he couldn't back away from. He sighed and gave Karia a crooked smile in return.

"I'm looking forward to it," Arthur said hearing a strain in his voice that surely must tell Karia he wasn't.