“You’re still a pain in my ass,” Ezo said as he handed a slice of apple to Rile. The horse took the apple and didn’t comment on what he undoubtedly considered a compliment. Ezo gave him another affectionate pat as he handed him the last bit of fruit and left him in the stables.
Ezo stretched as he walked out into the open air. He could have just walked that morning to the neighboring farm, but he was glad he hadn’t. After a day’s work helping them to raise a new barn, they’d not only paid him handsomely, but they’d offered him one of the best meals he’d had in ages. The walk would have been very long after all that. Rile saved him a good hour and a half, even if he did make Ezo’s back ache.
He was aware it was the way he rode and not the horse, but he’d never claimed to be a rider. It was something else to complain about to Kammon when he found him.
Ezo was getting frustrated on that front. Kammon had been very loud as he headed northeast of Pramas and away from where Jaroh’s Traveling Players were. Two months out and the rumors stopped. He just disappeared.
Ezo refused to think something bad had happened. He remembered how quiet the man had been when they’d met in Mason Creek. If he wanted to hide who he was, all he had to do was take off the damn coat and not a single person would think him War-Sworn or Disavowed. He’d just be another tired traveler on the road.
Besides, Ezo would know if anything happened to him. There was something, not awareness, but a feeling of something beyond. He’d know if he was close enough. He’d feel it like he had that morning when Kammon had been in battle without him.
He opened the door to the inn and was met with the warm glow of a fire and the friendly call of his name. The innkeeper of the Broken Bat’s Wing was a thin man with pocked cheeks and a smile bigger than his face.
“You came late, but I can still round you up some food, Sir!”
“I’m good, Ralwin,” he said as he took a seat at a table in the back. “Just an ale please.”
Ezo was barely seated when Ralwin came over with the ale and something wrapped in cloth.
“You got that barn up, did you?” Ralwin asked.
“Took a while but we managed,” Ezo said as he sipped the ale. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but Ralwin did a pretty decent job and he took pride in the brewing of it.
“Good. Good. I know you been asking questions. Discreetly of course, and a traveler came through. I saw this and thought it might be helpful for you. Take it on up when you’re ready and have a peek. Not many folks would know a word of it, but I imagine you’ll enjoy a good read.”
Ezo thanked him and downed the ale before he took the strange package up to his room. When he was alone he pulled the worn fabric wrapping off and stared down at an old leather book. He ran his hand over the cover, feeling the texture of the lettering and admiring the artistry. Ezo had never met a book he didn’t like, and he hadn’t met near enough for his tastes. This, however, was more than appreciation of a well-crafted book. This was the awe of holding a book on the history of elemental magic.
He wrapped it back up quickly and stuck it in his bag before he ran down the stairs. “The man you got that from?” he asked Ralwin.
“Said he never paid for a roof when I offered and took off down the greenway.”
“Thank you!” Ezo called over his shoulder as he ran out the door. He probably should have planned a little better, but luck was with him. He hadn’t gone twenty minutes outside the village when he caught sight of a small fire off the side of the road.
“Mind if I join you?” Ezo asked as he approached the trader and his camp. “I’m alone. The innkeeper got something from you, for me. I wanted to ask you about it.”
“You’re the reader then?” he asked.
Ezo nodded. He didn’t know if the innkeeper had mentioned he was an elementalist, but books were rare and the quality of that one had been superb. Any collector would want it. Good thing he’d earned plenty of coin today. He was sure the book had put him back every bit of it.
“Where did you find it?”
“Nothing left there to find,” the man said as he poked at the fire. “Just a cracked castle and the ghosts of the long dead.”
“Then it won’t cost you anything to tell me,” Ezo said. “That book is for a specific audience. I’d be interested in tracing its history.”
The man nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Nothing left there but the telling of stone. I was caught out in a storm or I’d have never stumbled into the ruins. No one does. Rumor says you can hear the ghosts of the dead whispering to you at night if you sleep under those stones. Black dreams too.”
Ezo smiled. “I don’t believe in ghosts and what haunts my dreams is mine to face.”
“West of Desra, you’ll find the Fire Born Castle. You heard of the Rising and the Razing?”
Ezo nodded, but the other man waited. He let out a small laugh and began telling the tale. “We were on the brink of war with both Nara and Galif. While most of Distria’s forces were committed to the war on the eastern side against Shafra, Galif and Nara made an alliance and came to the joining of the Sanguine River. They were met by the armies of a single eques who had been left behind to watch the river. The eques had five War-Sworn with him and when the forces of Nara and Galif rose, the eques and his men razed the opposing army until there was nothing left except a single messenger to tell the tale to their leaders. They’ve never crossed the river again without invitation,” Ezo answered.
It was only one of many blood-soaked stories in Distria’s past, but in his youth, he’d loved to hear any story about the might of elementalists. The idea made him sick to his stomach now though. He respected the War-Sworn but he could never imagine what they went through for their oaths.
“Some of that might be true. Some might not. There were rumors about an uprising against us from our neighbors. Lots of people thought it was all a lie though. Some in Desra didn’t like the eques. Said he was getting too big a head. He’d been raised to his position and had his castle for barely twenty years and there was already talk about him joining the Council. People in power didn’t like that at all.”
“You think he was killed?”
“Think as you like. But you look at the river and there’s never been a sign of that kind of fire. But if you go to his home, to the Fire Born Castle, the rocks are blackened, where they aren’t melted. Whatever happened there, battle followed him home.”
“So, what do you think happened?” Ezo asked. It was all speculation, but he’d heard enough from Jacob to ask questions about history. There could only be so much truth in history books when the only one to tell the story was the man who won.
“The only thing I know for sure is the eques left behind a widow and a kid that no one ever heard from since. People call it the Fire Born Castle now, and no one goes near it.”
“Except you.”
“I told you; it was an emergency. That book was buried and I only found it because I was digging a fire pit. Don’t know why it came up then and there, but it was meant for your hands. Nosah’s hand in the world, perhaps,” he added.
Ezo flipped the man a coin. “Thanks for the story. I think it’s time for me to go home and read the other one.”
When Ezo arrived back at the Inn, Ralwin sent hot spiced wine to his room and Ezo opened the book. There weren’t many history books that had survived Distria’s past. The power grab for the throne had taken generations and when they finally settled into their current Council of Lords, they still contended with one another to take the ruling spot amongst themselves. Unfortunately, Distria’s true past was often lost in those scuffles.
To find a book of elemental magic that had survived was astounding. No matter where the man had found it, or what tales he spoke.
This was the first step to the answers he was looking for. The vow. Bonding. Blending? He took a long sip of his wine, sat back in the quiet of his room, and started to read.
I wonder if Kammon is related to all this....
He IS a man we don't know much about :P