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The right of Brett Martin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of these documents may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, scanning and recording, for any purpose, without the express written consent of Brett Martin.
All characters in this short story are fictious and any resemblance to real persons, living
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"Tired?" Joseph asked.
Amroff only nodded, his eyes red from lack of sleep. The nightmare he'd experienced had been a bad one. In it, his parents stood within a ring of fire pleading for help. Amroff had tried to move but couldn't, their voices drowned out by the maddening swirl of Lim-Dûl's laughter.
"I thought some sea wind would rejuvenate me," he said from his seat near the bow of the merchant vessel they were traveling on. In a storm, he might have expected to be showered with spray even with the broad muzzle of the ship, but there was only a gentle wind this morning and the sea was as clear as rippled glass.
The journey to Uond had taken close to a month's travel. First by horseback from Rillandon to the coast, and now by sea down south through the Straits of Kalamass. They'd been on board for close to eight nights and he was looking forward to solid land under his boots again.
"I thought you might like some oranges," Joseph held up a hesian bag. "Finest Balduvian ones, of course,"
"Good man," said Amroff, perking up. He made space for Joseph and ordered Klas out of the way. The grizzly lumbered a few feet over and slumped down for a doze.
Many of the sailors had given Klas a wide berth, yet didn't seem to mind his presence nor cleaning up his regular deposits. To have such a powerful force of nature as a bear was considered a good omen, it seemed.
Which was just as well from Amroff's point of view.
Overhead, a bird cawed.
Amroff almost flinched, then squinted up at the sky. "We must be coming close to Uond."
"I expect so," Joseph agreed. "Nothing finer to the sight of a mariner than a gull, I reckon."
Amroff helped himself to one of the oranges and watched the gulls circle overhead. In a vague way they reminded him of storm crows. He wondered idly what fate had bestowed on the blue mage he'd bested. Poverty perhaps. Shame undoubtedly. Not that it really concerned him. He had more important matters to attend. The spell book though had proved to be a boon. Pouring over its contents he'd been learning much of the blue arts on the journey here. Only last afternoon he'd sat here pondering raptures which called forth dream tides.
He had to admit the whole realm fascinated him with its breadth and complexity. Besides, there was a pragmatic appeal also. He could hardly escape the influence of the sea when journeying upon its waters. Initially, he'd been tentative delving into this realm where the elemental forces of water and air held dominion. So he'd begun with minor spells. Cantrips really, not even genuine magic of the dueling variety. He would
awake at dawn, make his way to the ship's bow and there kneel on the smooth wooden planking.
Once he was confident of his powers he would lean over the rail and watch entranced as shoals of fish began to dart near the surface. A wave his hand and they would disappear like a flurry of glinting spearheads.
His actions had not gone unnoticed.
Many, including the captain, gathered as an audience, his raptures raising the spirits of the crew. Amroff had tried crafting waves into shapes. Beautiful sea maidens and friendly giants.
Almost in response the wind strengthened as though Nature herself approved of the magic he weaved. The voyage had gone well, the weather balmy, winds strong, the sailors full of cheer and song. At least until he'd summoned a Dandân, then things had changed somewhat dramatically.
He'd begun that morning by summoning a zephyr falcon.
It proved a popular choice. The crew, he'd discovered, held many birds in high esteem, even if the falcon didn't match the soaring grace of the albatross in their estimations.
That done, he'd thought how it could be bettered. He'd chosen the Dandân which had loomed up from the darkness beneath the sea's ruffled surface.
Amroff had studied its slowly pouting lips, the languid movement of its fins before releasing it to the cold fathoms of the deep.
Only when it had slipped from sight did he become aware of the crew's response. There'd been no cheering then. Only a grim silence and furtive whispers for the remainder of the voyage.
He'd asked Joseph what was wrong, why the deck hands avoided his gaze, but his friend didn't know. Nor did Traskor. It was the sea captain, Bartholemew Ironfoot, who informed him that the Dandân was an ill creature to summon. To look this fish in the eye was to be marked for a soulless death, he'd said. It didn't matter what arguments Amroff raised, that the creature was only a fish, that he'd been responsible for its summoning, the captain could not be dissuaded otherwise.
So it was, that Amroff had been shunned. The others felt the effects to a lesser extent.
Traskor still managed to coerce one or two of the mariners into sword drills on the foredeck. He made quick work of them all and appeared frustrated by his confinement. Joseph played his mandolin, worked on sewing some leather gloves.
Amroff meanwhile continued his studies near the bow, Klas at his side. He hoped return passage wouldn't prove a problem if word was to spread. Then again that was beyond the trial awaiting him at Tresserhorn. He'd deal with that question when it arose.
"I hear the town still rests under the jurisdiction of Duke Godwin," Joseph picked a couple of orange pips out of his mouth. "Probably the same Duke Godwin who ruled back in my youth."
"You've been to Uond, then?"
"Many times. I used to sell my leathers there as a young man. Uond was the town where fortunes could be made and lost in a night if you were of a wayward nature."
"So Traskor keeps telling me," Amroff grinned.
"Well, he'd know." There was an excited shout from one of the deck hands. "They've seen Uond!" Joseph burst out, almost deafening Amroff in the process. "I should go fetch Traskor, he'd want to see this."
"Do that," Amroff suggested. He watched Joseph leave to find Trask then turned his gaze to the horizon.
Somewhere out there lay Uond. The city of the great festival where each year merchants from throughout Dominia came to gather.
He shifted his position on the deck thinking this over. He'd been impatient to get there. It was a place where he could purchase artifact spells before their long journey to Tresserhorn. Certainly Uond was the place to find them.
Not that he would be the only one journeying here.
There were many temptations to draw the mages of Dominia. He suspected it would be easy to fall into conflict. As it was, Traskor had warned him soon after leaving Rillandon of this city. Of the need to stay together least it be his undoing. It had seemed sensible enough advice.
He rubbed his eyes and looked at Uond as it came into view. It appeared almost coy, hiding behind a veil of fog, gold-tinted bartizans glinting in the cold light of the sun.
As they drew closer its chaotic nature became more apparent. Amroff was quick to realise that Uond was not a place for those who liked order, being a crush of leaning towers, winding streets and swinging gangways.
Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he could see garish flags and the pageantry of the festival. That and the rank smell of rotting fish heads and decay as though the odour of the place was reaching out eagerly to assault his senses.
This was Uond. A city of spells, flesh, drinking and revelry. Whatever one sought it was all here. Yet Amroff knew that somewhere beneath its populace streets were chambers where crypt rats gnawed on the bones of luckless heroes.
He had no intention of making Uond his final resting place, merely the bridging point to greater strength. Of course, if the sailors were to be believed Death was in his shadow. He found himself recalling something he'd read once that many blue mages upon passing had their bones scattered into the sea.
There are probably some resting in this very harbour, he thought. Half-submerged skulls in pillows of seaweed, watching him with black eye sockets that felt only the rush of water. It was a surprisingly comforting thought.
Up ahead, a longboat approached from which a horn sounded. On its deck he could make out Uond town guard adorned in scarlet breastplates and the still, pewter form of a Soldevi sentry.
"You see," said Joseph as he returned, talking to Traskor. "There is Uond."
Traskor grunted. "My thanks, Joseph, but it lacks much to appreciate from this distance," His gaze fixed on the approaching ship. "It would seem we are about to be welcomed to this city, sire."
Amroff thought of the skulls. "You know, Trask, I think we already have been."