Some News

Just a head's up to those of you who have been reading my work and busily correcting the typos, I am glad to inform you that I too am doing the same thing. In fact I printed up a master copy of everything so far posted and have been going over it with a pen. Edits will soon be coming, but my priority is still finishing the story first. After I have a fully written rough draft I will start the lengthy process of re-writing so that it all will make some kind of sense.

Yes you my readers will get to see the creative process in action beginning with my bouts of creative diarrhea continuing into the hopeful crafting and shaping of an actual readable piece of fiction that I can then sell for millions of dollars hopefully freeing me from the tedium of the corporate office life.

Chapter 7

Okay this one is short, but I wanted to vary things up from Freah. I have a lengthy piece continuing where it left off with Freah but it doesn't seem time yet.

Daniel looked over the flat horizon, the only change from here to the edge of what he could see was the frequent gusts of snow and dust blown up by the ceaseless winds. His feet had taken him a fair distance despite his body being tired from the slaughter. He had pushed on ignoring the ache of his body, the numbness in his arm where he had held at bay club strikes and javelins. The frost on his eyes kept him from letting a tear slip out.

Jessica was dead.

Absolom was dead.

David was dead.

Abigail was dead.

Daniel stood alone, walking through the winds, a ghost of that battle.

They hadn’t been ready, but of course they had. They were young but they had all trained long and hard to fight battles like that. Any battle-trained scholar was ready to fight off dozens on their own. Daniel remembered when David had helped teach him some of the basics of fighting.

“It is all about rhythm,” David had said, as he had dodged about Daniel landing blow after blow regardless of the defenses Daniel tried to put up. “Every fight has a rhythm, set that rhythm so that it is on your terms. Wait till they become comfortable…” David said as Daniel finally was able to match his blows with blocks, “…Then change!” David’s punch was diverted but he used that momentum to swing around and slam his foot into Daniel’s side.

Daniel remembered laying their hazy for a second as David reached down grabbing his hand and pulling him back up. “At least that is how Solomon taught me,” David said with a smile. He was always capable, but never overly proud. Everything he knew and excelled at he attributed to others. It made it easy for David to follow Daniel when he saw that Daniel had surpassed him. David congratulated Daniel when Daniel was selected to go to Roamus with Solomon for the hunt. David had fought to hold the line as Daniel retreated and repositioned.

Abigail had not been as kind as David in their rivalry. Abigail was steady in many things, consistent in her studies, consistent in her duties to the settlement and consistent in working to be a better fighter than Daniel. Their matches had become quite the spectacle in training. Trainee Scholars would line up to watch the two cross swords. In their last bout the two had fought till both were dripping with sweat and after an expert parry by Abigail, Daniel’s sword broke. The second jab went for his throat. She stopped the tip uncomfortably close to Daniel’s throat. Daniel had blamed his poorly constructed blade for his defeat, but he had known that Abigail’s riposte had been too swift. He never had the chance to be as gracious as David. Abigail had stood by his side till the rocks took her shield.

Absolom had never lost his smile, until this battle. He always had a joke, always a way to get out of a task. He and Daniel had snuck out of a scribing session or two to stand on the cliff tops of the settlement and watch a snow storm scream across the plains to them. Absolom would dare Daniel to stay out here longer than him. Daniel would always win. Absolom also had an annoying habit of rearranging Daniel’s papers, and switching his right glove his a second left one making him form two shields one day. He was also a deadly shot with his shards which caused him to show off by snipping a sash on someone’s robes, revealing the pale glittering skin underneath. The occasional mishap happened to Abigail, until she threatened Absolom in a non-subtle way about what she would do to him if he continued doing that. Though for all his slacking and joking, he had proved a braver man in showing his affection for Abigail.

Daniel and Jessica had seen Absolom and Abigail stealing kisses in an off corridor a few times. Every time Daniel’s eyes had looked to Jessica’s face, yet her face never betrayed anything.

Jessica has been a rock in Daniel’s life. Jessica knew more about Daniel’s hopes and fears than anyone else in their home, and she never uttered them to anyone. Daniel told her of his dreams to lead the hunts to be like Solomon, a silent guardian against anything that would harm the settlement. He told her of his fear before the hunt that he may not return to her… and David, and Absolom. He told her distaste for the old scribbling of scholars on the Old Ones. She had listened patiently, but she rarely gave much back. She never refused him her attention though. Over the years he teased more and more out of her. The way she would sit and listen to the hum of the core as she worked. The way she expose her bare face the biting winds so that she would know the ends of sensation.

He had sat up late nights talking to her never saying what he always wanted to. Part of him was desperately afraid that to tell her that he had feelings for her would end the quiet nights, after the settlement had quieted. When the heating units had lowered and their words had been what warmed them.

Every word unsaid however tugged at his heart and mind. If he was to be the great hero, why was he scared of anything? If he knew that she would always be there why not step forward?

Day after day it tugged, but soon he was whisked off to Roamus and when he returned it was the Harantons that had to be dealt with. Both had become full scholars and had not the time for romance.

Now she was dead, her last act once again allowing Daniel to keep on going. Yet he never knew if her love of him had once turned to the romantic. She did not let him speak the words when he left. Was it because she didn’t want to didn’t want to distract him, or because she was who she was and she would never be what he wanted her to be. Daniel would never know and it was all he could do not to drive himself insane over it.

One thing that kept his feet forward was his duty. He had learned something terrible. He had learned something that the Abbot would think he was insane for saying. The voidshaped could take the form of the people from Onus, or they could possess them. He had to tell this to Lot, and he had to say something even more insane, Solomon was alive. The man who had left Daniel with Isaac and gone back out into the wastes of Roamus to find the voidshaped himself was still alive. He had probably become some puppet of the voidshaped by now, though.

He had to tell Lot, and he had to warn the rest of the Icenians that the containment of the voidshaped was not going as well as they had hoped.

The man looked up from his desk and immediately launched into a tone of voice which told you everything was unmistakedly your fault.

The warmth of self-pity had dripped out and now only icy anger was left.

He looked at the system clenched in his hands and wished it to fracture beyond repair.

And because I forgot yesterday:

He wouldn't apologize nor would he allow himself to be glorified; at the end of the day there was nothing special.

Chapter 6

I realized I didn't post anything on friday so here I am making up for it. Unfortunately I am running out of pre written stuff before Friday, so it looks like I will have to start pounding things out again to keep updating regularly. This is technically still part of Dusdane's tale but Freah has hijacked it and Dion also now in the picture. For now I am calling it Freah's Tale. If I keep this naming style it may be confusing since the next part will be something like Dusdane's Tale Part 3, Dion's Tale Part 3, and Freah's Tale Part 2, So I may just start calling these pieces the "Forytne Incident." Though that name may not be appropriate for very long anyway. The stories that started so seperate just can't help but smash into each other.

Arron was sitting on a street corner leaning up against a post. He had a brownish cloak over his shoulders and a hood covering most of his face. A small tin cup sat next to his foot with a small sprinkling of change in it. His clothes were tattered and he coughed as people passed by.

As Freah walked up to him he raised one unhooded eye to look at her and a smile crossed his face. He lifted the cup up, “Spare some change?”

Freah sat next to him on the corner, after brushing the cup aside. “You sound ill,” she said.

“Just for effect, though forcing a cough may soon tear my throat up enough I won’t have to fake it.” He said the gravel in his voice clearing as he cleared his throat.

“You usually are better than this Arron, why the beggar routine?”

“Well I had a contract, doing security for a merchant from Maedus but his whole caravan got impounded by the Arbitrators.” Replied Arron as he rattled his cup at another passerby giving a dull smile in their direction. “Cheap bastards.”

“I hear a lot of caravans have been having trouble,” said Freah as she attempted to look nonchalant by checking her nails. The attempt felt awkward and it showed.

“I take it you are hoping I know something,” Arron said putting the cup down again and leaning his head back against the post. He looked up to the lantern hanging off the arm of the post.

“A friend of mine had some trouble last night. He too was working in a caravan,” said Freah as she too leaned her head against the post.

“Was your friend badly hurt?”

Freah looked over suddenly.

“No big surprise there was only one caravan let in last night. One from Elayne, word is they got attacked by Judges.” Arron said and turned his head to look at Freah. “Is Dusdane okay?”

“What makes you think he was in that caravan,” Freah shot back.

“There is only one man you’d be out here asking around here for, and I know he comes in with the Elaynian caravans.” Arron raised a hand and placed it on her shoulder. “I take it he was with that caravan since you snapped at me.” He smiled.

Freah looked down, “He was, he is pretty badly hurt. He was trying to leave this morning but I wouldn’t let him. I am trying to find Faecon, the owner of the caravan, if he is even still alive.”

“From what I have heard the Merchant was taken to the Arbitrator headquarters. Good luck getting in there.”

“You heard anything about the man?”

“Just that he came out of that fight untouched, I heard there were maybe a dozen or more Judges that attacked. A friend of mine buried maybe fifteen men today. None were Judges.”

Freah nodded, “He knows how to handle himself then, at least better than Dusdane, which doesn’t really say much.”

Arron locked with her eyes. “That level of skill doesn’t mean he can handle himself, it means he is a dangerous man. Be careful, Freah.”

Freah stood up and dropped some coins into Arron’s cup. “I can take care of myself.”

Arron shifted back into his gravelly voice, “Thank you kindly miss.”

Freah left Arron and began walking to the Arbitrator’s Headquarters. She could ask someone on the outside if they could relay a message or something. She walked through the busy market watching the merchants shout at passerbys. Each trying to sell their worthless junk to whoever was there. A secret of Fortyne’s success was that many of the foreigners only came to Fortyne and one could say something was made on Sikasta and no one would be the wiser. Freah smiled as she saw a couple looking over some fine silk clothes, supposedly Garrenian, but Freah knew that the silk had been made two doors down.

She came to the end of the Market road and was before the Arbitrator’s Headquarters a massive structure of rock and crystal jutting out of the walls of the city. The building resembled a hedgehog with its many spiny spires poking out at odd directions. A tall rock wall had been made to further the defenses of the structure. The building had been built around a large hollow in the wall of the city.

She came to the large crystal arch that served as the entrance. Two men stood there holding ordinary metal spears. The Guard yawned.

“Excuse me, I am looking for a man named Faecon, I was told he was inside.”

The guard stopped mid-yawn. The other gave her a cold look. “We can neither confirm nor deny that Faecon is within. Also we are not allowing anyone inside so his presence is irrelevant.”

“Please sir, I have business with Faecon.”

“Sorry ma’am no admittance.”

“It is very important business,” She said adding something of an edge to her voice.

The two guards looked at each other.

“Quit, being so hardnosed boys.” A voice from within said and out walked a man in a long yellow coat and a hat which seems slightly larger than normal for an Arbitrator.

The two guards turned and bowed slightly from the waist.

“My Lady,” the man in the over-sized hat bowed deeply to her.

“Lyran?”

“Ah you do remember me then,” Lyran said coming up from his bow with a large smile.

“I didn’t know you were…”

“You weren’t supposed to but now you have gone and ruined it and now I have to find another bar, how sad.” His smile didn’t match his words. He looked to the two guards, “It is all right I will show her to Faecon.”

Lyran began walking quickly and Freah sprinted to catch up.

When they were out of earshot from the guards, Lyran said, “The Bar was good cover I would never have suspected you.”

“Suspected me…?” Freah began but Lyran quickly cut her off.

“I mean I was told to keep tabs on your bar but I thought that was simply peacekeeping work. And now you are here to see Faecon, it is all so clear.”

Freah began again, “I don’t think…”

But Lyran cut her off again, “But these are strange times, I am betting all the agents are going to come out of the woodwork.”

“Lyran, what are you talking about?”

Lyran frowned, “Don’t think I am a fool maddam, Faecon tried to play dumb when we first pulled him in as did that other fellow from last night. The Arbitrators aren’t fools, we have as good intel on our city as even you Wraiths.”

Freah frowned. She realized her insistence had apparently pulled her in far deeper than she had intended. But something excited her about this, she was about to find out information that no one else would know. How long she would live after that would yet be seen. At that thought panic rose up in her mind but she willed it away. She had been in tough situations before she would find a way to handle this.

“We have already blockaded the Maeden gate. One hundred Arbitrators are holding it as we speak.” A voice said from the room where Lyran was leading her.

“One Hundred? Then how are they getting reinforcements?” Another, younger voice echoed from the room.

“I suspect they are coming through the Icenian or Haranton gate. A long detour though, they must have had troops ready for this operation.” A third more grainy voice answered.

“We think we can limit infiltration on our side from the Haranton gate but it will be impossible to discern the Icenians and Maeden’s in disguise coming through there. We can’t search them all.” The first voice said, obviously an Arbitrator, Freah reasoned.

“Why not? This is your city’s safety, is it not.” The grainy voice said again.

“It would strangle commerce, and that more than anything will kill our city,” replied the Arbitrator.

Lyran approached and opened the door. It was a small room with glimmering crystal walls. A hole was in the ceiling of the room angled to catch the suns rays. The rays were collected and diffracted in all directions making the room glow slightly. In the center was a stone table on it were maps and papers spread across. There were three men standing there, one in the clear uniform of an Arbitrator, two others in long black coats. The Arbitrator was clearly in the prime of his years, his blue eyes were quick and alert, his hat was pushed back letting brown hair fall across his forehead. Of the two men in black coats one was older, a long scar across split his chin and another cut diagonally across his forehead. The younger man was a head shorter than the other two and markedly younger. His eyes were dark and his hair black.

Freah shuddered, realizing she was in a room with two of the more dangerous men in the Many Worlds, two Elaynian Wraiths.

The older man looked to Lyran and Freah, he raised an eyebrow.

The younger wraith not noticing the new comers said to the Arbitrator. “Perhaps we should contact the Icenians, maybe they can blockade their gate to Maedus.”

The Arbitrator shook his head. “The Icenians are unlikely to be able to help, their numbers are few and they have a lot of territory to cover. No more likely we would need to help them.”

Lyran coughed, the room focused on Freah. She did her best not to remain calm.

“Gentlemen, I present Lady Freah, she has come with business for Faecon.”

The Arbitrator at the table looked at Freah then to Faecon. Faecon shrugged.

“Lyran, why did you deem this necessary to interrupt us.” The Arbitrator said his voice only showing slight tinges of annoyance.

“I thought she was Faecon’s contact…” Lyran began then looked to Freah for help. She stood there for a moment and then smirked that even an Arbitrator could be a fool.

“You have compromised…” The Arbitrator began.

“Nothing, Dylan, Lyran has compromised nothing. You however are about to so calm yourself.” The young man interjected.

Dylan took a breath.

“Freah…” Faecon said for a moment, thinking. “Ah yes, Dusdane mentioned you. I assume you have come here on his behalf?”

Freah nodded, “He wishes to speak with you about the matter of last night.”

Dylan shook his head at Faecon.

Faecon smirked at Dylan. “This is a confidential matter, I should probably speak to Dusdane directly.”

“Dusdane is badly hurt and is bedridden. You can discuss it with me and I will relay it to him.” Said Freah.

“Faecon, you will remove yourself from your caravan and leave Dusdane in charge.” Said Dylan.

“A buy-off, how shrewd,” commented the young man.

“That was the plan from the beginning, Dylan. But I doubt the young man will be satisfied with that now that his life has been endangered. He is not the type to walk away from this.” Replied Faecon.

“How do you know this,” said Dylan.

“Because it is our job to know people Arbitrator,” the young men interposed.

“Dion, you are being needlessly inflammatory.”

Dylan gritted his teeth. “Are you implying that an Arbitrator doesn’t.”

“You know people’s price.” Dion replied.

“Enough,” Faecon said silencing the others. “It was my plan to include Dusdane from the beginning, the addition of this woman is only a minor issue. I am sure she can be of some use as well.”

“Use?” said Freah, she shifted her weight uneasily.

“What use could she be?” Dylan snapped.

Lyran took a step forward. “If I may sir?”

Faecon nodded.

“Lady Freah is the owner of an establishment used by many of the merchants and locals, she has information source at her disposal and probably knows a great deal about the situation already. Given the right training she could use this tool more effectively. Also she is in prime physical condition, I personally have seen her settle more than a few bar brawls.”

Dylan’s eyes widened as he realized what Lyran was saying. “Are you putting forth a recommendation, Lyran?”

“Sir, she also exhibits excellent mediation abilities, she has many of the attributes necessary to become an excellent Arbitrator.”

Freah elbowed Lyran and harshly whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Saving your life, and my career,” he replied simply.

Faecon smiled, and looked at Dylan. “It takes two Arbitrators to recommend a new recruit and it does solve our little problem.”

“Very well, I shall train her personally, since it will be my neck on the line.” Said Dylan not looking terribly pleased with the way things were turning out.

Freah looked at Faecon, “You knew this was going to happen?”

Faecon openly laughed. “Of course not, but I know how to adapt to my situation. Something our good friend Lyran has learned quickly and that Dylan is going to have to learn grudgingly. Had I truly know how this would all turn out I wouldn’t have let Dusdane get wounded now would I.”

Freah thought for a moment, “But you already had plans for Dusdane.”

Faecon nodded, “Well since you are an Arbitrator now,” this elicited a chuckle from Dion, “I can let you in on some information.” Faecon motioned her over to the table were she saw a diagram of the gate system and a larger map of Fortyne City and the surrounding gates. “This is a lot of information I know, but I need you to relay as much of it as you can to Dusdane. Also, you must not tell him that he is being trained.”

“He is being trained?”

“He has been in training since we left Elayne. Wraith’s are trained without their knowledge in the early stages, so we can get a good idea of how they naturally adapt to situations. Eventually we will let Dusdane in on the larger plan but now until I know he is ready.”

“So I don’t get such a luxury,” said Freah.

“Unfortunately no, Sorry you just had bad luck. Think of it this way, at least Dion isn’t going to kill you as you leave this way.”

Dion smirked, “Faecon, you make me sound like a bloodthirsty killer, you’d think I’d kill a lovely lady like this.”

Freah caught Dion’s eyes for a moment and didn’t like what she saw. His eyes were cold and calculating but something else was behind that, a glee in the idea of stalking her like a cat stalks a mouse. His smile widened as she looked at him. Freah felt sick.

Faecon offered no help or consolation, he seemed amused by the whole thing. He went back to motioning at his charts. “The reason for the curfew and increased security around the city is that Judges have been waging a guerilla war against the Arbitrators.”

Faecon paused to let that sink in. Freah used that moment to ask, “what could they possibly gain from going against the Arbitrators? Won’t this just bring the entirety of the Many Worlds against them?”

“According to the Treaty of Fortyne, yes, the Many Worlds should be rallying for a full scale war. Except that the Maedens have declared the group that have been attacking a fringe group, not connected with their government. They have basically said we can exterminate them on our own terms and they won’t lift a finger,” continued Faecon.

“Then why haven’t you rooted them out?”

Dylan spoke up this time. “They are getting reinforcements.”

“Isn’t that proof enough to invoke the Treaty?” Asked Freah.

Faecon shook his head. “Sadly no. The Many Worlds are still tired from the aftermath of the Gates Opening. The wars following have depleted most of each worlds forces. I am all that Elayne was willing to send in support of Fortyne.” Faecon looked at Dion, he said nothing.

Dylan pointed to the Maeden Gate. “We are within our rights due to the Treaty to blockade their entrance, but they are still coming in.” He moved over to the gate network chart. “Maedus however is not only connected to Fortyne but also connected to Icene, Harantos, and Garren. As you know all of these worlds are connected to Fortyne.”

Freah said, “As far as I know none of those worlds have much love for the Maedens, why would they be helping?”

Faecon replied, “We know they aren’t coming through the Garrenian Gate because the Garrenians and Sikastans just fought a long war to push the Maedens out. The connection is probably well defended.” Faecon drew a slash through that connection on the chart. Dylan grit his teeth a little watching Faecon mark on his chart. “Dylan recently saw that Arbitrators were sent to secure the gate to Maedus soon after the incident which started this.”

“Incident?” asked Freah.

Dylan replied, “I was attacked by a squad of Judges while on patrol.”

Faecon added, “This was in response to Dylan killing a Judge.”

Dylan turned on Faecon, “I was within my rights, he had just murdered in cold blood. He was in violation of a most obvious law and would not heed my authority to arrest him and he attacked!”

Dion spoke up this time, “I am not sure how much you know about the Maedens but they view themselves as champions of order. The man Dylan is referring to had just killed a thief. The Judge was acting as Judge and executioner for the crime which most Maeden Judges think is their right and privilege, hence the name.” Dion amusedly added, “You can see how this can cause problems with other forms of law.”

Freah simply nodded.

“Since Dylan is some respects caused this other worlds are using that as an excuse to say this is a dispute between Fortyne and Maedus and refused to get invovled,” explained Faecon.

“That is until Fortyne City is no longer usable,” said Dion.

Dylan added, “Dion has suggested we shut down the market until other Worlds help.”

Freah gaped, “That would be unthinkable, Fortyne City would be unlivable without the trade from the Many Worlds.”

Dion spun a dagger idly on the table, “Sometimes you have to do dramatic things to get things moving.”

“This is not an option the Arbitrators will consider.” Said Dylan.

“But you have already enforced the curfew which is strangling business already,” Freah replied.

“That is a matter of safety, we need to know who is on the streets at night,” said Dylan.

“And yet my caravan still was ambushed,” said Faecon smirking.

“We can’t be everywhere at once,” replied Dylan quietly.

“So then what is the plan, Dylan? What are you planning to do to stop them?” Asked Freah as politely as she could despite her growing anxiety. She wondered if the plan itself would involve herself and Dusdane, as bait. She didn’t trust any of these men. Lyran she trusted, the man was sincere enough.

Faecon smirked, “The Wraiths have stated their plan, but what alternative do the mighty Arbitrators have?”

Dylan’s frown deepened, and lines formed around his mouth. “We need more intel, you Wraiths should be able to help out there. We need to know more about who is in charge. Cut deep enough into their leaders and the rest will be easy pickings if they do not just surrender.”

Faecon nodded, “fair enough. The Judges are incredibly hierarchical, there must be someone here who is directing them. Cut off the head?”

Dylan nodded. He then said to Faecon “I give you and Dion full authority to find out who that is.” He looked at Freah, “In the meantime, you are no good to us as you are.” Dylan spoke this without malice but Freah sneered slightly anyway. He continued, “As I said, you will receive training from me. It will start this evening, go home and rest.”

Dylan turned away from her and motioned Lyran over and began speaking to him, suggesting patrol routes. Faecon and Dion spoke quietly in a corner. Dion occasionally looking at Freah and smiling. For a moment Freah stood there unable to move, trying to piece together what had just happened and what this was going to mean. On the one hand, her old life was gone casually thrown away as she walked in this door. Lyran looked at her his eyes whispering an apology. On the other her life was about to become much more interesting, and she could keep an eye on Dusdane this way. She worried slightly about the training Dylan had in mind but she had handled fights in her past she was sure she could keep up with the Arbitrator. She took a second and realized she was crazy. An Arbitrator was trained to take on squads of well trained soldiers not a bunch of rowdy drunks. How could she possibly keep up.

As she stood there Dylan looked over again, “You may leave Miss Freah. Rest up, you will need it.”

Freah backed out of the room. Dion’s eyes followed her, that smile not leaving his face. Freah sighed, at least with Dylan looking over her she wouldn’t have to worry about Dion. Something about him worried her. She couldn’t quite determine what it was. There was the obvious, he was trained killer who seemed to have taken an interest in her. Maybe it was simply that she no longer had control. Earlier this day she had been in control of her life, today control had been wrested from her.

Freah left the building unsettled, and walked back to her bar. Dusdane, this was his fault, she mused about smothering the wounded man, but shook her head. That wouldn’t solve anything. If anything he was in just as deep as she was, if not worse. She doubted Faecon intended to be kind to him.

Weekend Sentence Catch-up

He knew exactly what he was supposed to do, and he refused to do it.

Her face was locked in anger but a single droplet fell to the ground from her face.

He gazed upon the city letting the glow of the flames flicker on his smiling face.