“Don’t push me, Brakas,” the large man retorted. “Meliban might not be much, but right now it is my city, not yours. If you don’t like the way things are going around here, just keep on moving. You already have enough Jiadin dead on your watch. That fiasco in Khadora cost us many fine warriors.”
“How many times do I have to go through this,” scowled Brakas. “What happened in Khadora was not my fault. The person who portrayed me was a fake. I don’t know how he did it, but I wasn’t even there.”
“Look,” interrupted another Jiadin warrior, “this arguing doesn’t do anything for any of us. Khadora is ancient history. Why don’t you tell us why you have come here, Brakas? Then we can be about the business of doing nothing for a while.”
“Alright,” Brakas sighed. “I actually came to help you guys. There is no reason that Jiadin warriors should be forced to live in some wooden city when the riches of Angragar are available.”
“And you know where Angragar is?” taunted Harmagan.
“If I knew,” Brakas shook his head, “would I be standing here now?”
“Then what is the point of flapping your gums?” spat Harmagan. “We don’t know where it is either.”
“But Wyant does,” smiled Brakas. “And he is coming here tonight or tomorrow.”
“Wyant wouldn’t give us the correct phase of the moon,” Harmagan shook his head. “We have asked him a thousand times already. He just won’t say.”
“Perhaps you haven’t asked him properly,” smirked Brakas. “You said this was your city. How can you let Wyant come and go as he pleases without answering a simple question?”
“Are you insane?” asked Harmagan. “You are proposing that we try to force Wyant to reveal where Angragar is? Are you trying to get us all killed?”
“Wyant is going to kill all of you?” balked Brakas. “You men are no longer Jiadin warriors. You are all clova. You sit around this city all day being fattened up for the kill. You are all a herd of clova.”
Harmagan’s face turned red with rage, his features contorting as his hand went for his sword. Brakas swiftly stepped close to the large Jiadin and grabbed him by the shoulder. Harmagan’s face turned from rage to fear as his body began to spasm. His fingers fell away from the hilt of his sword as his arms began to twitch uncontrollably. Suddenly, Harmagan fell to the floor and curled into a ball, his lips quivering as he sobbed.
“Don’t ever think about pulling a sword on me again,” snarled Brakas. “I will not stand for it.”
The other Jiadin warriors backed away from Brakas, but their hands were conspicuously held away from their swords.
Brakas sighed and shook his head as he looked at the other Jiadin warriors.
“It looks like I will have to do this on my own,” Brakas declared. “Don’t mention to Wyant that I am in town when he arrives. I will find out the location of Angragar before he leaves Meliban. The rest of you should start preparing the men for a long ride. Go on! Get out and start getting your men sober.”
The Jiadin warriors fled the administration building through the front door. Brakas stood for a moment staring at Harmagan who was still curled up on the floor. Brakas shook his head and spat on the Jiadin leader before exiting the building. Fisher stared at Brakas as the man left the building. There were several things about Brakas that bothered Fisher. The story he told about being impersonated didn’t make sense. Aakuta had declared that he had killed Brakas, and Fisher believed the dark mage.
What bothered Fisher even more was the weird angle of Brakas’s left hand when he stood normally. Most people’s palms face their legs when their arms hang at their sides. Brakas’s left palm faced forward. By a strange coincidence, the only other person that Fisher knew with such an abnormality was the spy that he had seen just recently on the Island of Darkness. It was the only thing extraordinary that Fisher had noticed about Clarvoy.
Now that Fisher knew what Clarvoy was up to, he had to find a way out of the administration building, and a way to foil the spy’s plan. Fisher was not prepared to jump from the second story window into the alley. That meant that his only exit was down the stairs, and that would force him to walk right in front of Harmagan. Fisher thought about his situation for a moment and then rose from the floor. He walked normally down the stairs and in front of Harmagan.
The Jiadin leader’s eyes opened in alarm when Fisher walked by, but he said nothing, the shock to his body still gripping him. Fisher searched the lower floor and found the kitchen. He rummaged through the supplies and found a loaf of crusty bread and a barrel of ale. He broke off a large chuck of bread and filled a mug with ale. He carried the food into the main room and knelt beside Harmagan.
“Bite the bread,” instructed Fisher as he pried the Jiadin’s mouth open and shoved a corner of the bread into his mouth. “Try not to think about the pain. It will go away.”
Harmagan’s eyes looked confused, but he bit down on the bread. Fisher grabbed the Jiadin’s legs and pulled them to straighten the man’s body.
“Chew it slowly,” advised Fisher. “Just concentrate on chewing the bread. Think of nothing else.”
The Jiadin leader closed his eyes, but Fisher could see the man starting to chew. After a few moments, Fisher noticed the man’s muscles cease quivering. Harmagan opened his eyes and stared at Fisher.
“I have a mug of ale here,” declared Fisher. “It will help you if you can stand to drink it yet. Do you want it?”
Harmagan nodded and bit off a chunk of bread. Fisher helped the Jiadin into a sitting position and handed him the mug of ale. The Jiadin continued to stare at the spy.
“Who are you?” the Jiadin finally asked. “I have never seen you before.”
“No one who seeks to harm you,” Fisher answered mysteriously. “I am just trying to save your life.”
“I would have died?” questioned the Jiadin leader.
“You might have,” nodded Fisher. “Your body started to shut down from the shock. In a few moments you would have lost consciousness. Whether you ever woke up from it or not…”
“I will kill Brakas for this,” snarled the Jiadin.
“I would not advise it,” Fisher shook his head. “At least not alone.”
“Do not insult me,” snapped Harmagan. “He just caught me off guard before. If you say otherwise to anyone, I will kill you, too.”
“You are in no condition to kill anyone right now,” sighed Fisher. “And do not worry about me talking to anyone. Besides, my words were not meant to taunt you. The man that you call Brakas, is not who he claims to be. Brakas is dead.”
Harmagan’s eyes clouded with confusion. He sipped the ale and then nodded.
“I had heard that he died,” Harmagan said, “but Brakas claims that that was an imposter.”
“This Brakas is the imposter,” stated Fisher. “Brakas never knew any magic. How do you explain his attack on you? If that was not magic, what was it?”
“Your words make sense,” nodded Harmagan, “but I don’t know you. You could be a spy for all I know.”
“What or who I am is of little importance to you at the moment,” replied Fisher. “Be thankful that I was here to save your life.”
“Well, be useful,” scowled Harmagan. “Go out and rally my men. I want Brakas dead and his head brought before me.”
“They won’t be able to find him,” replied Fisher, as he finally understood how Clarvoy managed to move at ease on the mainland. He did not use disguises per se. He used illusions to portray others. “The man is a mage, Harmagan. He will change his looks now. He could be anyone. He could be among the very men you order to find Brakas. Do you really want him to attack you again?”
Harmagan shuddered at the thought. He swallowed the last piece of bread and drained the cup of ale. “Help me to my feet,” he ordered.
Fisher complied and helped the Jiadin leader stand up. Harmagan took a couple of cautious steps and nodded triumphantly.
“At least I can still walk,” he sighed. “What am I supposed to do then if I can’t find this wizard?”