"Tomorrow we'll reach Thedraan, a market town on the Parmian Way. I have a contact there who will send word to our sponsor, who will be arriving shortly if he hasn't got to Thedraan before us."
"At last! That'll be at least one night with a proper roof over our heads!" said Anglhan, rubbing his hands together with anticipation. "Soft beds, hot beer and proper food."
"Don't get too comfortable, we will stay only until I've met with my ally." Aroisius's warning did little to dampen Anglhan's excitement at reaching civilisation after so much time in the wilds.
"So, what are you going to tell the big man?" asked Dulkan, combing his fingers through his thick beard. "He'll want to know why we didn't attack."
"I have a better question," Anglhan said before Aroisius answered. "What exactly is your partner getting out of this? And another question — why do you need him?"
"I could not say for certain what my ally is seeking; he has placed no demands upon me," Aroisius said. He tugged the bottle from where it had lingered in Barias's possession and shoved it back in his pack. "I think he's an Ersuan stirring up trouble for rivals in Anrair. He's probably some greedy grain merchant hoping to hike the prices by causing instability in the trade between Askhor and Salphoria. Or perhaps he hopes that with me in charge of the city he'll be able to strike some preferential deal."
The rebel lord looked at the three chieftains when he spoke next.
"We need his money for a number of reasons. To bribe some of the hillmen elders to allow us to hunt on their lands and make our camps; to buy food and equipment; and to purchase information from associates I have in Magilnada and Anrair."
"He must be looking to make a lot of money, judging by the amount he's willing to give you," said Anglhan. "Do you think you could ask him for more?"
"What do I need more money for?"
Anglhan looked at Aroisius as if he had asked what he needed air for. The landship captain leaned back against a rock, hands on his rapidly diminishing belly, and smiled.
"There's always something you can do with more money. The question isn't why you would want more; it's why you wouldn't want more! The odd bribe to a militia here and there, the purchase of a few carts, maybe give a bit more to your hill chiefs for more than just permission to hunt, and getting into the city could become a whole lot easier."
"And more dangerous," said Reifan. "So far we've survived through secrecy. The more folk get involved in our plans, the greater chance we get found out."
"That is the truth," said Aroisius. "Also, as you would put it, the more hands in the pot, the less meat for everybody."
"That's a good point," said Anglhan. "No need to share the spoils with more people than necessary."
"I am not interested in financial gain," Aroisius said firmly. "I wish to create a new Magilnada, to provide refuge for those brave souls evading captivity and drudgery. And with Magilnada I will be able to exert influence over the Salphorian king and his nobles to do away with their draconian debt laws."
Anglhan accepted this with a slight nod. Reifan's eyes were wide with adoration, while Barias and the other chieftains exchanged hidden smirks. Certainly the hillmen were looking for a profit in all of this, on top of a chance to get one over on their ancient Salphorian enemies. But it was not them that intrigued the former debt guardian. The real power here was the mysterious Askhan providing the funds. That he might meet this unknown person filled Anglhan with excitement as he arranged his bedding in the shelter of the overhang.
As he drifted off to sleep, the chieftains muttering amongst themselves on the a short distance away, Anglhan's mind bubbled with possibilities.
V
Thedraan was a typical Ersuan town consisting of round stone houses with domed roofs of thatch, about fifty in all. The wide square at the town's heart was empty, nothing more than a broad muddy patch criss-crossed with footprints and littered with goat droppings. Around this the market barns yawned empty, the wind whistling through their rafters, the rain pooling inside their open doors. But for all Thedraan's dismal, quiet appearance, to Anglhan it was the embodiment of luxury after so long in the mountains.
The group had no difficulty finding lodgings with an old widow, who was willing to rent out her dead husband's house for a fraction of the price she would have charged in the summer. Grateful for this unexpected business, she packed a few belongings and moved in with her son next door.
Anglhan's first mission was to get himself a decent meal, and was soon ensconced at the table surrounded by plates of goat meat, cheese, late harvest pears, pickled vegetables and assorted game. He set to this feast with considerable focus, not sparing a breath to speak to the others until his belly was aching as much as the rest of his travel-weary body. Finishing off his feast with a jug of ale, he declared Thedraan to be the most civilised place in the known world. He retired to bed and did not leave it until the following evening, except to fetch a brief luncheon from the leftovers.
While the town would have been heaving with farmers, traders and drovers during the summer, in these cold days nothing much at all happened. The arrival of Aroisius and his party had caused a few raised eyebrows, quickly dismissed by a story of woe concerning brigands on the Salphorian border; doubts were eased further by the coin Aroisius clearly possessed. It took Anglhan no more than half of the morning following his day of bed rest to find out everything there was to know about Thedraan: who were the important locals; how the year had been; what the townsfolk knew of wider events.
So it was that he came to be sitting next to a small fire in the headman's house, talking to an elderly couple called Rainaan and Thyrisa, sharing a bowl of thick soup. One snippet of gossip had intrigued Anglhan and he wanted to know more.
"I hear there's been some trouble dawnwards," Anglhan said casually, dipping a spoon into his broth. "Some disagreement between Lutaar and one of his sons, isn't it?"
"That's what the last of the traders was saying back in the autumn," said Thyrisa. Her husband grunted in agreement. "Some even claimed there was fighting! Course, we ain't heard nothing since. The Brothers what came through collecting the harvest taxes told us it was all rumour and nonsense, course, but they obviously knew something they weren't telling. Usually you can get good news from their sort, but not this year."
"Our son moved out to Parmia two years ago." Rainaan's voice had a nasal quality to it and his accent was thick enough that Anglhan had to concentrate to understand him. "He's a friend what came through on the last goose drove, and he said that the legions marched through Parmia just before the rains came. Nemtun hisself, mark you. Nobody knows where he was going, but them all headed coldwards without stopping, headed up into Enair I reckons."
"Figure that, eh?" Thyrisa continued. "That old goat Nemtun putting on his marching kilt and armour again. I reckons them Enairians have been kicking up a fuss again, like what they did when my grandma was alive. They've always been a feisty lot, them coldlanders. Isn't that right, my sweetheart?"
"Couldn't say, my precious, ain't met a whole lot of Enairians," the headman replied. He picked up his bowl and licked it clean, talking between slurps. "Only thing they've got to sell is timber, and most of that comes by way of the Ersuan traders, and not much comes this way."
Rainaan pushed his dish away, dragged himself slowly to his feet and hobbled over to the fire. Wrapping the long sleeve of his jacket over his hand, he pulled a pot from over the flames and dumped it onto the table. Steam wafted in Anglhan's face, the heat making his eyes water.