Date: Fri, 18 Mar 1994 09:00:04 PST Reply-To: papayd@gtewd.mtv.gtegsc.com Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Dave Papay M/S 2G23 x2791 Subject: Requital part 2 Requital Copyright 1994 by David Papay Part 2 of 5 Although the East Gate had opened only an hour ago, there was already a steady stream of traders, wayfarers, voyageurs, and adventurers entering the Free City of Arete, all anxious to find lodging for the night and enjoy the festival of Midsummer. Many had arrived last evening, after the city gates had been closed, and were forced to spend the night in the common tent of the caravanserai, which was located outside the city walls. The more affluent travelers had brought their own tents, and a small impromptu city of multi- colored pavilions had sprung up overnight, as one had each night for the past week. Now most of the pavilions were being taken down, their owners having found more suitable lodging within the city. Some tents remained, though. The caravanserai, for example, was never really taken down, although its size did vary throughout the year. Some traders and voyageurs also remained outside of the walls. They had erected makeshift stalls in front of their tents and displayed their wares to the multitude of travelers who passed by on their way to the East Gate. One other group of pavilions, conspicuously segregated from all others, remained standing this morning. Indeed, it had been standing for several days, and would remain here for at least another week. Those tents housed the barbarians of the Ice Clan. Each year the traders of the Clan journeyed south to Arete to barter their goods. They kept mostly to themselves, and few ever entered the city. Instead, they waited for the traders and factors they usually did business with to come to them. Not many of these merchants actually enjoyed coming to the barbarian enclave - there was much risk involved - but the potential profits were too great to ignore. Every year the barbarians brought rare and exotic goods from the far north, merchandise that would command high prices in Arete, and even higher prices when exported to cities further south. And every year at least two merchants were killed by the Ice Clan, either for violating some taboo, inadvertently offending a clansman, or some other breach of barbarian custom. The party of adventurers arrived outside the East Gate at midmorning. The five members of the party separated themselves from the caravan they had traveled with and began heading toward the gate. Racially, they were a diverse group: three were human, one was a dwarf, and one was a halfling. The group was also diverse professionally, although this could not be determined merely by looking at them. The heavy, full length parkas they all wore concealed the equipment and raiment that usually connoted one's vocation. Underneath those enshrouding parkas were three warriors, a wizard, and a rogue. While they had not been officially employed as caravan guards, the two human warriors in the party, Balinor and Fanton, had helped fight off a particularly large and well-organized raid earlier this morning. For their trouble, the caravan master had given each a pouch containing several silver coins. They gracefully accepted the recompense, but in reality it mattered little to them. During a typical adventure, they would not even bother with treasure of such low value. In fact, just one of the gems Balinor carried with him from a previous adventure was worth a thousand times more than the silver coins, weighed less, and took up less space in his backpack. He tossed the pouch to a beggar on his way to the gate. The party had just completed an arduous expedition deep within the Dragon's Spine Mountains. Monetarily, it had been an extraordinarily successful adventure. However, it had taken a severe physical toll on the group, something that seemed to be happening more and more often lately. There was currently no cleric among them, and that had left the party members highly dependent on potions, salves, and herbs for healing. They had exhausted their supply four days ago, and now that they had arrived in Arete, all of them were looking forward to some well needed rest. Upon arriving in Arete, Tanner went directly to the kennels to arrange for the boarding of his dog team and storage of his sled. Like most of the establishments providing services for travelers, the kennel was located outside the city walls, making it more accessible. Tanner paid the kennel boy for a week's boarding and watched as his team was led away. Before putting his sled into storage, Tanner went through the items packed in it and transferred the articles he would need into his backpack. Although the sled had been heavily packed, most of its contents were provisions needed for life on the open ice. As a result, the backpack was only half full when Tanner had finished. Over the years, Tanner had acquired the habits of traveling light and keeping few personal possessions. The later was necessary for one who had no permanent residence. Once his sled had been taken away, Tanner put the backpack on and began walking to the East Gate. Alec watched as the people entered the East Gate. The teenage boy sat beside the doorway of the guard's barracks and was dressed as a beggar so he wouldn't attract undue attention. In fact, he had paid a beggar off to obtain this particular spot, for from this vantage point he could see every person who entered the city through this gate. Five days ago he had been offered a job: for ten silver pieces he was to keep watch over this gate and look for one particular man. His employer had described the man in great detail, and had even provided a rough sketch of him. It was the promise of thirty additional silvers that had kept Alec sitting here for the past five days, waiting for a man he had only seen in a picture to arrive amidst the ever increasing crowds of people. For the first few days he had been totally faithful in his duties, never straying from this spot longer than absolutely necessary. He arrived just before the gate opened each morning, and stayed until the last entrants had paid the guards their toll. However, on the last days of his employment Alec had become increasingly more certain that this man would not show up. Even if he did, it would be very easy for Alec to miss him in the throngs of people entering every minute. While the promise of another thirty silvers had kept Alec at his post for the past four days, the only thing that kept him here today was the chance that his employer might stop by to check up on him. He was about to leave and get something to eat when he saw the man. At first he could not believe it, and he pulled the sketch his employer had drawn from his cloak pocket. He quickly studied the sketch, and then glanced back up at the man. Yes, it was the same person. Barely able to contain his excitement, Alec waited until the man had gotten past the barracks before standing up and following him. He wasn't too concerned about the man noticing him; there were far too many people on the streets today. Alec followed the man down The Esplanade, a major thoroughfare leading from the East Gate to the Central Market. The Esplanade was lined with an assortment of shops and taverns, most of which were still closed at this hour. However, there were street merchants aplenty, selling their goods on tables and carts set up along the sides of the street. All were trying to profit from the newly arrived travelers. After a few blocks, the man turned down one of the cross streets that intersected The Esplanade at odd angles. Alec quickened his pace after the man had rounded the corner; he didn't want to lose his quarry - or the thirty additional silvers. He reached the cross street, but continued walking straight, looking out of the corner of his eyes in order to see down the cross street. It was not as crowded as The Esplanade, but there were still enough pedestrians and street merchants to make his discovery unlikely. He casually changed direction and headed down the cross street. As Alec continued stalking the man it became obvious that the neighborhood was quickly changing from the bustling commercial atmosphere of The Esplanade into a quieter, more residential district. Alec, still dressed as a beggar, was beginning to feel out of place and conspicuous. As the crowd thinned, he was forced to keep a greater distance from the man in order to remain undetected. Just when Alec feared he would have to end the pursuit, the man crossed to the other side of the street and entered an inn. Alec headed toward the inn, but was suddenly taken aback. Several others had entered the inn immediately after the man he had been following. Had the man been traveling as part of a group? The thought hadn't occurred to Alec until just now. His employer had told him to look only for a single man. He mentioned nothing about whether that man would be traveling with others. Alec began to panic, wondering if any of the other people had noticed him. Deciding that it was to late to do anything about it now anyway, Alec proceeded down the street - more cautiously this time - to get a closer look at the inn. The Bear and Mammoth Inn was a nondescript establishment in a middle- class part of Arete. Alec had never heard of it before, but that was not surprising, given the fact that he didn't frequent this part of town. Alec looked around nervously. There was still a fair amount of pedestrian traffic, and even a few beggars and urchins. At least he was not totally out of place. He thought briefly of entering the inn, but decided against it. He had no pretense for entering such a place, especially dressed as he was. All he would accomplish would be to draw attention to himself, something he definitely did not want to do. So he decided to wait a few minutes, walk over to the inn, and risk a glance through one of the windows. The inn had a relatively small common room, which was empty except for a heavy-set man with an apron, whom Alec assumed was the inn-keeper or barkeep. A flight of steps led to the second story, where the rooms were most likely located. The fact that the common room was empty told Alec that the man he had been following, and the others who might have been with him, had rented rooms, not simply entered for a drink or an early lunch. Confident with this knowledge, Alec started back toward the East Gate to inform his employer and collect his pay. The large tent was illuminated by several free-standing sconces. Their torches burnt with a thick, oily smoke that was barely able to rise up to the vent-hole at the peak of the tent. The ground on which the tent stood was rocky and barren, typical of the ground outside Arete's walls. It provided good footing for the two men who were engaged in battle in the middle of the tent. The barbarian and his opponent, a sergeant in the city militia, circled around one another, each looking for an opening in which to strike. They had been fighting for nearly fifteen minutes, and while the sergeant was beginning to grow tired, the barbarian showed no sign of weakening. Although the chain mail the sergeant wore had protected him from the barbarian's blows, its weight was beginning to slow him down. It was also overheating him, despite the cold temperature. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he dared not wipe it away. His opponent would no doubt use such a lapse to his advantage. In contrast to the militiaman, the barbarian wore no armor. In fact, he wore little at all. He had taken off his parka, tunic, and fur leggings before the contest had begun, leaving him in only a pair of short woolen pants and hide boots. If he felt any discomfort from the cold, he did not reveal it. His thoughts and actions were totally focused on the battle. The sergeant was anxious to end the current standoff. He knew that if the bout continued much longer he would lose due to exhaustion. Though he had no real opening, he feinted to the left, hoping to draw the barbarian's guard. Surprisingly, the plan worked, and as the barbarian shifted his sword to block the expected thrust at his left side, the sergeant disengaged and thrust his blade sharply to the right, attempting a slash to the barbarian's arm. The ring of steel against steel surprised the sergeant. Somehow the barbarian had managed to block the real attack. So strong was the block, and so weak and unexpecting was the sergeant, that the sword slipped from his sweaty hands and fell to the hard-packed ground. He stood defenseless before the barbarian. He had lost. "Well fought," the sergeant said, as he offered his hand to the barbarian. But the sergeant did not feel the grasp of the barbarian's hand. Instead, he felt the hilt of the barbarian's sword slamming into his face. He fell backwards, landing flat on his back and hitting the ground hard. The sergeant took a few moments to let his head clear, and then tried to rise. He was stopped by a cold, sharp object that bit into the front of his neck and pushed him back onto the ground. The pressure on his throat increased steadily, and his breathing became strained as his windpipe was slowly closely off. He forced his gaze downward, towards his neck, and saw the tip of a sword pressed against his throat. His eyes followed the sword's fullers upward to the barbarian's face, which wore a cold, sadistic expression. It was at that moment that the sergeant realized he was about to die. Suddenly, a bright light shone from behind the barbarian, silhouetting him, and causing the sergeant to squint as his eyes adjusted to the light. The sergeant could no longer see the barbarian's face; it had become a black void haloed by the blinding light. For the first time in his life, the seasoned veteran truly knew fear: he was staring into the face of death itself. "I though you were just sparring." The voice was detached, coming from behind the barbarian, but it was enough to dispel the supernatural aura the sergeant had imagined. Then the bright light was gone, and the barbarian's visage once again took on its corporeal, albeit maniacal, appearance. Someone had opened the tent flap and entered. The barbarian recognized the voice as one of his clansman, but was unmoved by the interruption. His gaze was unwavering, as was the tip of his sword. After what seemed to be an eternity, he answered the disembodied voice. "We were. The sergeant just lost." And with that, the barbarian removed the sword from the militiaman's neck. A small pool of blood had welled up in the hollow beneath the man's Adam's apple. "We are done now. You may go," the barbarian said to the sergeant, as he turned to face his clansman. The sergeant quickly scurried out of the barbarian's sword range, his eyes never leaving his seemingly insane opponent. After retrieving his weapon, he retreated along the perimeter of the tent, staying as far away from the barbarian as possible. The sergeant didn't sheath his sword until he was safely out of the tent. All this was unnecessary, though. The barbarian had no further interest in the sergeant. "I found this wandering around the compound." the newly arrived barbarian said, as he pushed Alec out in front of him. "He said he was looking for you." The barbarian cast an indifferent glance at Alec, and then walked over to one of the benches arranged along the sides of the combat area, showing both Alec and his clansman the same disinterest he had shown the sergeant. He picked up a roughly knit towel from the bench and wiped the sweat from his face. With his back toward the two newcomers, he addressed his clansman: "Leave us." After a slight pause, bright light momentarily flooded the tent once again, informing the barbarian that his clansman had left. The barbarian sat down on the bench and examined his sword. The blade had suffered a few small nicks from the sergeant's parries. He picked up a whetstone and drew it down the length of his sword in a slow, smooth stroke. This he repeated several times before speaking to Alec. "Why are you here?" Alec swallowed hard and managed the words "I saw him." The whetstone stopped in the middle of the blade. The barbarian turned and, for the first time, looked directly into Alec's eyes. "Are you sure?" "Yes," replied Alec, with as much confidence as he could muster. "And you know where he is now?" Again Alec responded in the affirmative. The barbarian looked down at the sword and examined it once again in the flickering torch light. The stone continued its journey down the length of the blade. "He'll go out to celebrate tonight. You will follow him. Then you will lead me to him." Though the barbarian stated this as if fact, and his tone left little room for discussion, Alec wasn't very comfortable with the idea. "Please sir, I'd rather just collect my pay and be done with this. I'm really not good at..." The whetstone fell to the ground as the barbarian stood. He held the sword in a non-threatening manner, with its tip pointing toward the ground. Still, there was something about the barbarian that prevented one from viewing him as anything less than lethal, regardless of how he carried his sword - or, for that matter, whether or not he carried a sword at all. "You'll be paid tonight. Meet me two hours before midnight at my clan's warehouse in the city. There will be an additional fifty silvers for you." The discussion was over, and Alec knew it. Hesitantly, he acknowledged the barbarian's orders with a slight nod and backed out of the tent. Much like the sergeant before him, Alec's eyes never left the barbarian until he safely out of his presence. Balinor eased his backpack off and let it drop onto the bunk he had selected. As he removed the rest of his equipment, he looked around the room his party had rented. It was a large dormitory room which could house up to a dozen men. Rooms such as this were fairly common in most inns, and their beds were typically occupied by patrons who could not afford private rooms. But it was not out of thrift that the party had chosen these accommodations, it was for security. Years ago the group of adventurers had learned the danger of being separated from each other in private rooms. It had nearly cost two of them their lives. With few exceptions, the party had rented dormitory rooms ever since. That choice had saved them several times over the years. Once the room had been searched for traps and secret portals, and the doors and windows had been warded against magic, eavesdropping, and forced entrance, the members of the party laid down to rest. Although it was barely midday, the fatigued adventurers were asleep in no time. The room's single window admitted the midday sun's rays, which brightened up the place, but did little to warm it. The fireplace was not lit, and Tanner made that his top priority. Tired as he was, he tossed his backpack onto a chair and walked over to the fireplace. There was an adequate supply of kindling and fuel beside the fireplace, and a tinderbox and flint and steel sat upon the mantle. While others might have complained about having to light their own fireplace, Tanner made no such objection. Out on the open Sheet he had to make fires with much less, and with much more than just comfort at stake. With the fire started, Tanner slipped off his fur cloak and hung it on a wooden peg on the wall near the door. The cloak itself was relatively thin, not anywhere near as bulky and cumbersome as the heavy fur parkas more commonly worn in this land. Still, it kept Tanner quite warm. The casual observer might think that the cloak was magical, but this was not the case. In fact, none of Tanner's possessions or abilities were in any way magical. The secret of the cloak was its lining. It was iridescent white, looking much like mother-of-pearl, but having the suppleness of soft leather. Upon closer inspection one could see that the lining was not made from a single piece of material, but rather consisted of numerous overlapping scales, each about the size of a thumbnail. It was the skin of young white dragon. This cloak was not unique, but it was very rare - and very expensive. Tanner guarded it well. With a fire lit and his equipment put away, Tanner laid down on the bed. It would be several hours yet before the inn served dinner, and in the intervening time he planned on getting as much sleep as possible. End of part 2 =========================================================================