Chapter 7 – Khemi

Quartus was so furious he could kick in a door just to relieve some of the anger he felt burning in his veins. Now, at home he might have indulged himself in some door violence but he was in Khemi, sitting at an inn feeling the sweat dripping all over his body. This country was damn hot; the sky didn't seem to know the meaning of clouds and shade. He was also a foreigner and as such he knew he needed to behave, his reputation around Stygia wasn't as pleasant as in Aquilonia. He took a gulch from his cup and almost spitted it out; it had turned warm and tasted like piss. He grunted and agitated stroke some sweat from his forehead with his fingers. How could this have happened? He was always prepared, always! How could he not have foreseen the possibility of magic more powerful than his own pole arm? He knew witches and wizards used powers he could never understand and therefore he didn't know how to anticipate them, but to ignore them? Stupid!

- She wouldn't have let us leave her at the safe house while we went to check things out. You know this better than anyone; Bela strikes me to be quite a headstrong woman!

He looked up at Xorenius now standing in front of his table with his arms crossed over his chest. He nodded,

- I know that, she is…, I just…

- Beating you up inside won't help her now!

He glared at Xorenius, knowing the man was right and it made him more pissed off than it should. Another man slowly emerged behind Xorenius. He seemed strong, well built and moved with the agility of an animal; the conclusion that he was a well experienced warrior of some sort entrusted respect with Quartus where others would feel fear and suspicion. A brother in arms he could deal with and he nodded respectfully at the other man. He nodded back with a calm and assertive smile in his blue eyes as Xorenius spoke again,

- This is a friend of mine, from my guild; he will help us assemble a group. He also knows where to ask questions to get a hint where we could start. Aromond?

- Nice to meet you Quartus, I've heard so much about you.

Quartus grabbed the extended hand from the man and shook it in a friendly greeting.

- Not all nice things I'm sure, he smiled while making a gesture for both men to sit. Aromond scoped the surrounding tables and as an experienced warrior himself, Quartus knew he wasn't just looking around. He checked for enemies or potential threats, since he probably knew this city better than any of the other two Quartus felt it was a move that showed him this man was on his side and could be trusted. Aromond finally smiled and leaned forward and damn him, he didn't seem to be bothered by the heat at all. Quartus dried of his forehead for the hundredth time since his arrival to Khemi.

- I've sent a message to Lazpom; he will arrive within the hour. He's a priest of Mitra and his healing powers will give us a huge advantage no matter how the task at hand will evolve.

Aromond paused and sighed as if he was trying to find the right way to put his next set of words,

- We need to ask some questions about those magicians in black and gold you saw take your friend. If the Heralds are somehow involved, we could be dealing with a new faction. I've been here for a while and though the Heralds of Xotli are fierce fighters and magicians they aren't known for kidnapping. They keep to themselves most of the time.

- So in your opinion it's not the Heralds? Quartus asked, only confirming the point in Aromonds words.

- No, I believe it's an entire other cult or group but most cults are known to the people here and those I've managed to ask about a group dressed in black and gold told me some kind of fairytales!

- What do you mean? Xorenius lifted his brows in honest curiosity,

- Well, Aromond drew out the word, wetting his lips before he continued, I talked to some men in the marketplace and they mentioned a group of nomads in the north part of Stygia called by the people living in that region as "The black scavengers". They only hunt at night, protected by the darkness, they steal and plunder and no one is left alive. They are supposed to be the wrath of an injustice done to the people who lived there hundreds of years ago. To my ears, that's a fairytale!

- It might sound as a fairytale but the essence of the story could be true, especially if the black and gold was mentioned! Quartus said with new energy burning within him, we should go north!

- Wait, Xorenius said, let's check this story with some others and if we hear it more than once then north we go.

- It could also be that war is brewing in the north and this is some kind of tale to keep the blame from pointing towards one self! Aromond said tapping his fingers against the table.

- Or it could be a cover to keep nosy people away, not to interfere with the upcoming war…

Xorenius said locking eyes with Quartus. Quartus thought to himself that he didn't care if it was just a crazy story or a warmongering but somewhere in the back of his mind his loyalty and duties persisted on making a house call.

- Does the king know of these rumors?

Aromond glanced at him, thoughtful as he answered,

- I doubt it, since it still is a rumor!

- When we know a bit more, you could send a message to the king, Xorenius suggested.

Quartus nodded, the king needed to be informed of all events, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

- We should make the most of our time, let's do some talking before we return and meet Lazpom!

Aromond rose to guide them, as they left the tavern the bartender glared at them with dark eyes, probably hoping they wouldn't come back. He was shit out of luck, but fortunate for the man he didn't know that. As they followed Aromond around Khemi; they spoke to some merchants and less reliable people, but it was from the woman at the potion shop they got their best clue. She told them about a visit dated a month back in time when a group of people, all dressed in the same black and gold had tried to get her opinion on a recipe giving ordinary people the ability to heal, and this was not just for a short period of time, or just instantly. Potions like that already existed, no; the recipe would give the consumer strength and healing powers for eternity. Such a man would be a deadly foe in the battlefield. Healing at the first cut and continuing to heal during the fight, not to talk about the heightened strength. But the recipe contained ingredients so horrible and taboo, even the meanest witch would think twice before assembling it. Without a doubt this would upset the Gods, all the Gods, even the evil ones! One of the ingredients was the blood taken from a healer, someone connected to nature, like the bear shamans from Cimmeria, and the amount for one potion was horrifying large. Quartus stomach turned with worry. Bela was reckless, strong and brave but those skills wouldn't do her any good if she was trapped and alone. Alone she could only succumb to her captors. He was afraid he would be too late, that when he finally found her they would have drained her of all her blood and thrown her to the side and he wouldn't have been there giving her at least a chance to fight her way out of it. Dying during fighting was a risk they took every day as adventurers and warriors, she deserved to die fighting – not like a trapped animal being drained of her very life-force. He shook his head, loosing Bela would hurt. She was like family, like the sister he never had. He knew he wouldn't be able to deal with that professionally, he would kill a lot of people if that happened. Xorenius watched Quartus worried face, Bela meant a lot to the man and the information still pointed north to a malice even he, himself had trouble to understand. Even Aromond with his calm ways seemed wary with the possibility of going face to face with overpowered humans drunk with healer's blood. They returned to the inn, buying cool beverages from the disappointed bartender while they waited for Lazpom to meet them. Aromond had sent errand boys to some other men he thought could be of assistant, if they chose to come with them.

- How do you stand this heat? Quartus grunted giving Aromond a jealous look since not a drop of sweat seemed to appear on the man. Aromond chuckled,

- Well, you do get use to it after a while. I've been here almost a month but the first week, I looked just like you. Sweat dripping everywhere, especially when the armor is on. You think they would invent armor that could breathe a little more…

A well dressed priest closed in on their table, he walked with the pride only true believers do. It was almost as if he knew nothing in this world could touch him, although that was not true he sure as hell walked that way. He looked as if he had a constant smile on his lips, as if he knew the secrets of the world and the people around him didn't. There was something strong in his kind eyes and the perfectly handsome face made him look like something the Gods must have created with their bare hands. He stopped at their table and greeted everyone with a firm, but kind handshake.

- I'm Lazpom, may Mitra bless you all!

He sat down, ordering wine and a glass of water from the serving girl.

- So, where are we and what are we up against?

They all laid out the stories they had heard and the details of the fight during which Bela had been taken against her will. They would go north and hopefully get more directions along the way. Lazpom turned to Quartus with that constant warm smile upon his face,

- Your friend is very lucky to have someone like you who cares whether she lives or dies. Not many friends like that around these days!

His voice smooth as silk made Quartus feel uneasy and he lowered his eyes, staring at the lines in the table, he could have sworn the priest saw right through him. Saw the anger burning inside him should Bela be killed and he was fishing for some way to argue that these things were all in the hands of the Gods. No matter what they tried to do for her. Quartus absolutely respected the Gods, he was a Mitra follower himself but he did not believe the evil of men were to blame on any God. Without men the Gods would have nothing, they could do nothing and they would wither and die, disappearing into oblivion. Some other men arrived, greeting them all. Mostly warriors from Cimmeria and Aquilonia but one or two Stygians could be found in the group as well. They would be valuable since they knew the terrain better than any of them. After letting everyone in on the plan, the stories and the events taken place outside Aquilonia they finally rose to get ready and ride out. Another man who had been standing in the bar during the gathering of men, listening and watching, approached them and with a stupid grin on his face and stopped Aromond. Aromond met the other mans somewhat dumb expression and raised a brow when the man started to stutter,

- You…, you guy, go fight?

Aromond got a crinkle between his eyes as if he was recognizing the man from somewhere but couldn't remember. Xorenius came up behind Aromond and answered in his place,

- Yes, we are going on a mission and it might require some fighting, you're interested?

- Yes, Sidney wants fight, much fight, make Sidney strong!

- Are you sure about this? Aromond mumbled to Xorenius, the man doesn't seem to be an asset, more like a clutz looking for some fight he won't survive. Wouldn't it be very irresponsible of us to bring him?

- Please, Sidney strong! Sidney wants more strong! Fight, make Sidney strong!

- So Sidney, Xorenius smiled, can you follow orders?

- Oh yes, Sidney strong!

- Well, then I guess you could come. We'll inform you on the way, you have a horse?

- Horse? What's horse? The man smiled.

- Well, um, you know…, Xorenius made a neighing sound and tried to show a gallop with his legs. Aromond started to laugh quietly and had to turn his face away not to show what he was doing.

- Ahhh, Sidney smiled, a horse! Yes, Sidney has!

- Yes, Xorenius nodded, go get your damned horse then!

Sidney left them with a stupid grin on his face.

- Maybe you were right, that might have been very stupid! Xorenius said with confusion stuck on his face.

- Seeing you imitate a horse was defiantly worth it! Aromond laughed.

As they stepped outside the tavern they glanced at the sun, it was midday; they would need to hurry if they would have a chance to get close to the northern borders before nightfall.