A Soldier's Life - 356 - Return To Gramney

Chapter 356: Return To Gramney

“Looks like a fine pony, Lesna.” I walked over to the palomino-colored pony. Instinctively, I checked the teeth and hooves. She was probably two or three years old and had a good temperament. I slipped the mare a fig, which she ate messily, foaming at the mouth from the sugar.

“Hey! Are you poisoning Honeysuckle?” she yelled loudly enough to grab the attention of passersby. I was the big, brutish man mistreating the poor halfling girl. This seemed to be a defense mechanism for her, and I drew some cold stares.

“It was just a dungeon fig. You don’t have any saddle packs with grain for a long trip,” I said, patting the not-so-little pony and planning to walk away.

Lesna had a self-satisfied grin, “I have time, you lot don’t even have horses yet.”

I really wanted to release Ginger right then and ride away smugly. It would have been the ultimate shock-and-awe moment for our relationship—but I didn’t. “We decided to travel home another way, actually.”

Lesna’s jaw slackened slightly, but I could see some pain in her eyes. “Another ship? I’m going to lose some gold if I have to sell Honeysuckle quickly.” She said, pouting.

“Actually, we hired a displacement mage for just the three of us. We’ve already accounted for the total mass he can teleport.” Her eyes began to water instantly, and guilt started to rise within me. She looked like a miniature woman, and others have told me I was soft when it came to the fairer sex. I channeled aether to my eyes and laughed at what I saw. “You almost had me, but that’s a fantastic illusion!”

Her tears vanished instantly. “How did you...” She halted her speech, realizing she was attracting attention again, likely not wanting others to discover her tricks. After all, we were right outside the Adventurer’s Hall.

“Lesna, it was a pleasure to meet you, but we have a long trip ahead of us,” I said, making a slight bow. Then I turned to catch up with Konstantin and Gilda.

“Where are you going!” Her high-pitched, melodious voice called after me.

“I am going home! I’m sure you can find good work in the local job postings.” I waved without looking back. She wouldn’t be able to unload the pony and catch up to us.

Konstantin and Gilda were waiting for me at the end of the street. Konstantin nodded, noticing the intrusive halfling was not following. We walked in silence, with Konstantin leading the way.

High walls surrounded the displacement mage’s estate, and four guards stood at the arched entrance. Their white padded armor was well-ventilated for the heat, and they wore decorative polished gorgets around their necks and steel helms. The butts of short glaives rested on the ground, and they also had short blades on their hips. I could see shields leaning inside the archway within easy reach. They appeared moderately competent and were studying us as we approached.

Looking past the guards, flowering bushes favoring blues and whites lined the paths within. One large, ornate, two-story building dominated the enclosure, with two more guards at the door. Konstantin struggled through an explanation of who we were, but they were expecting us, and two of the guards escorted us through the grounds. The mage must have been incredibly wealthy to have such a large estate in the city.

“How much coin did this cost you?” I asked quietly to Konstantin.

“Mage Hizzash took a major essence, two minor, and a runic weapon,” he replied candidly. I was astonished he had not consumed all the essences he had earned. He still had both his favored swords, so I was unsure what runic weapon he referred to. Perhaps he was thinking as long as he was attached to me, the essences would continue to flow to him.

We approached a massive stone pergola situated amid some large, unfamiliar trees. Their dense green leafy canopy promised nice shelter from the sun. A shiny bald man was tracing runes on black stone beneath the pergola. He appeared pudgy and was sweating profusely in the heat. Looking up, he said eagerly, “Ah, the Telhian Legionnaire. I’ll just need a few more moments. Don’t want to end up in the sun. Please see my assistant inside to confirm your weights.”

“You have enough aether to reach the sun?” I replied doubtfully.

The bald displacement mage chuckled, “No. Just a saying I am fond of.” He waved us away to focus. It was probably best not to break his concentration.

We remained under guard into the manor. In the entryway of the stone manor, a human-sized scale dominated the foyer. Konstantin muttered, “He needs to ensure he has enough aether for us to reach the destination.”

A woman waited for us with a smile. His assistant was far too beautiful, with perfect caramel skin, large emerald eyes, high cheekbones, and teeth that were too white. Even Gilda seemed to notice, studying the woman as she worked.

The stone counterweights seemed a bit heavy for the woman to move alone, but it was our guards who did the heavy lifting. Konstantin went first, and the assistant carefully balanced the scale with the stone weights and recorded his weight. I was shocked when Gilda went second and weighed a few modest stones more than Konstantin. I was third, weighing just a small stone more than Gilda. Today, Gilda appeared as an overweight old woman—but I was five inches taller than her and heavily muscled—there should be no way she should be close to me in weight. The assistant didn’t seem to find it unusual and tallied our weights.

Finished, she waved for us to follow her outside, where the displacement mage seemed to have finished. He took the log absently from the beautiful woman. “Excellent! There shouldn’t be any issues. Our first stop will be the city of Zikh.”

The name triggered something I had read in Godok. “Zikh? Where the Wild Mountain Dungeon is located?” I asked, recalling with uncertainty.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Ah, yes! Not many people know of it. Yes, a city high in the mountains!” He deflated, “Well, it’s no longer much of a city. They survive solely on what the dungeon provides—maybe a thousand men, women, and very few children. From there, we will go to Gueltane before Gramney.”

I recalled the writings on the dungeon city. The dungeon was a massive grassland, maybe five miles across. It was one of the more unusual dungeons in that it had a day/night cycle inside. All sorts of animals wandered the plains with only one predator—thunder worms.

Thunder worms were roughly ten feet in length, and the magic that propelled them underground was equal to that of a running man. As they moved the earth around their body, it sounded like echoing thunder as they approached. Their chitinous body rings were tough but not impenetrable. The difficulty was only being able to attack them when they surfaced with razor teeth leading the way.

Also, being in this dungeon at night was extremely dangerous because it was hard to discern where the worms were coming from. There were twelve lesser worms in total, and when you killed all twelve, a thirteenth, much larger version was summoned. Killing this last worm would earn you the reward chest. I had noted that the dungeon, as the worms, yielded lesser earth essences, with about eighty percent likelihood. The locals, however, rarely allowed outsiders into the dungeon.

The displacement mage had finished his preparations and seemed eager to go. “Everyone inside the inner circle, I am holding the spell forms and saturating them now!” I activated my aether sight to watch him work his magic. He was not drawing aether from the ley lines like most displacement mages for a long-distance teleport; this was solely aether from his core, which astounded me, and it now made sense why he needed to know our masses precisely.

As I turned and examined the aether flows, I noticed a faint, hazy shape under one of the trees. By its height and form, I recognized it was Lesna. She was clearly close enough to have heard us talking. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to try sneaking into the circle before we ported?—the air began to thicken with aether, and I could see a tiny thread racing into the sky, likely drawing a line to our destination. I focused solely on the invisible figure as it took one step toward us, then another. I slowly shook my head no, and it stopped approaching—then we were gone. The halfling had not approached the circle.

Cold air rushed in around us, and only a bright opening at the end of a short tunnel was visible. Jagged granite surrounded us, and I could hear Konstantin’s blade being drawn. This was most certainly not a city in the mountains. Hizzash bellowed happily, “Perfect! We arrived successfully! Sheath your weapon, Telhian. We are in a cave overlooking the city. My anchor point is buried in the floor here.”

I ended my aether sight, to see the mage was steaming as his sweat evaporated off his skin. Our breath formed clouds as we exhaled into the frigid air. I walked to the opening, momentarily blinded by the daylight. When my eyes cleared, below us lay a sprawl of buildings and few people walking the streets. Distant snow-capped mountains rose around us, and we seemed to be in a gap between two of the peaks.

Hizzash stood beside me, pointing to the city below, which had very few people. “The large building there is the inn. I pass through here a few times a year, so there is unlikely to be any trouble. It’s going to take me most of the day to recover my aether for our next teleport. We traveled nearly seven hundred miles!”

I could tell the displacement mage was seeking praise. “That was incredible, especially considering you did it with only your aether.” He nodded quickly, his chin jiggling slightly. It was obvious this mage didn’t work out. He pulled his cloak tightly around himself and began to descend a rocky, icy path. We followed him down to the city of Zikh.

Many buildings we passed were empty, and it was clear this remote population was slowly dying out. I didn’t even need to check the records in the dreamscape to know there was nothing for us here. Maybe I would come back one day if I needed earth essences, but we were too close to returning to the others.

The inn was like any other in any city, with an open fire and worn wood throughout. A single white-haired man with more wrinkles than hair on his head rested behind the counter. His eyes opened lazily. “Hizzash? You back so soon?” he grumbled, not really looking eager to service us.

“It’s been three months, Rornen. Three passengers, regular room rates,” he stated more than asked. The old man grunted an affirmative. Hizzash turned to us, “A silver per room. Rornen sometimes cooks, but it isn’t very good. Wait until the evening and ask one of the women who comes for some decent fare.” With that, Hizzash walked up the stairs to what I assumed was his normal room.

Konstantin placed three silver coins on the counter. Rornen examined each one before giving him three keys. We retreated to our rooms for a few hours of rest. I stayed in my room as the locals arrived with the setting sun. I was sure Konstantin and Gilda would be in the common room, observing and gathering information.

The fire below wasn’t strong enough to warm my room, so I brought out the weasel pelts. I didn’t use the amulet in the strange city and ended up with a few hours of restless sleep. Late the next day, we accompanied Hizzash back to his cave overlooking the city. As we climbed, he spoke, “There aren’t many dangers up here, except during the snowy season when the yetis migrate. I try to avoid coming here when the snows are deep.”

While we waited for him to set up his spell forms, I placed my thermal stone near the entrance and heated the cave. Not wanting to risk having the mage make a mistake, we talked quietly. Konstantin informed me what he learned from the locals.

It was a challenging climb to the city, and people rarely visited. Trade mostly involved furs from the dungeon and a small copper mine. Neither of the neighboring kingdoms were interested in maintaining the city, and its population had been shrinking for decades. A dozen adventurers worked the dungeon and largely managed the city since they controlled the food supply. I took a few minutes to use the dreamscape and added those notes to the book I had copied from the Archives.

Hizzash was more precise in his calculations this time. The teleport was much farther—almost a thousand miles to Gueltane, one of the southernmost cities in the Duchy of Manch. I was aware that our mage was completely avoiding Gesedmuria with our two hops. Once Hizzash was confident that his preparation was flawless, I collected my thermal stone, and we stepped into the inner circle again, careful not to disturb his chalk lines.

It was disheartening to see the displacement mage appearing somewhat uncertain as I observed the aether flow. He took considerably longer to connect to the distant city, leading me to assume he lacked an anchor stone there. The darkness of the cave disappeared in an instant. The dry, cold air was replaced by temperate air and the scent of the woods. Stunted trees surrounded us, and Hizzash looked relieved. He sat heavily on a rock.

“Where are we, Hizzash?” Konstantin asked, agitated. He nodded to Gilda, who disappeared in the forest. The mage held up his hand like he was out of breath.

When he seemed to gather himself, he spoke, “A dozen miles south of Gueltane—maybe more, maybe less. We were bounced from my target by protective magics. We may have alerted them to our arrival as well, but it should be fine. I am generally well-known and well-liked in Manch.” He took a deep breath. “It is not far to Gramney; I only need half a day to recover my aether,” he said reassuringly.

Instead of going to the city, Konstantin decided we should all wait in the woods for the mage. The three of us took turns patrolling our camp while we waited for the displacement mage, who snored loudly on the ground. With dawn, the morning dew stuck to all of us. Hizzash was slow to wake up, clearly exhausted from the two teleports so far. Without a flat surface to use his chalk, he switched to powdered chalk to draw his complex spell forms on the packed earth.

This time, when we all stepped into the inner circle, the displacement mage looked much less confident, which didn’t help my own confidence. “Where are you targeting your anchor point?” I asked.

“The opposite shore from Gramney…” he started to say, and then we were gone.  

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