Chapter 5

  An Audience in Zerial

  Neyra sent a silent prayer up to the old gods as the great walls of Zerial appeared in the distance. She was almost certain that they were lost, on multiple occasions, in fact. But their combined survival skills had delivered them to safety.

  The long journey north had passed without incident…almost suspiciously without incident. As the days went by, they found themselves almost confused at the lack of peril. They traveled by daylight, staying just off of the main road, taking care to look out for others who may have escaped. But as the miles passed on and on, they never saw another soul. Not until a man came jogging up the road about a mile outside the city gates.

  “Hail!” He said in a booming voice, “What news from the south?” Arv came to a stop and looked down at the man with a suspicious stare, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his harpoon. The man continued on, either not noticing their tension or not caring, “We’ve been expecting no less than ten caravans and none have shown, save you lot. Has there been a quake? A storm? What sort of calamity could have possibly kept all but a ragtag group of…” he looked at Arv carefully, “... kids? from traveling our Southern road?”

  Neyra took a deep breath.

  “We…there was an attack. Black clouds came from the sea and swallowed our town. Black riders came with them, they…they…” Her voice broke and she shuddered with the memories.

  “Have there really been no others?” Shamil asked, giving the man an incredulous look from atop Arv’s back. He had gone pale at Neyra’s words.

  “Well shit. They told me, but I didn’t believe…” He shook his head, knuckles to his forehead. “You’d best follow me. The judges will want to talk to you.”

  Without another word, the man did an about face and started back up the road he came. Arv hustled after him.

  ***

  “We received a missive. Just one, delivered by bird. Said the same as you, black clouds, dark riders…death and destruction. But we didn’t know if it was true. Judge Harlan sent some scouts down south, but none’ve come back. And now I’m afraid they never will.”

  The man spoke in a hushed tone as he led them through the city gates. The exhaustion and trauma of the last weeks still wasn't enough to keep them from staring, mouths agape, and the fantastic sights around them.

  The brightly painted buildings screamed out in shades of orange and blue and red and green, their equally colorful tiled rooftops glistening in the noonday sun. Smells from a thousand different sources wafted through the air, some delightful, some foul. Children ran and played ball through the winding streets, their bare feet clapping on the smooth cobblestones. Vendors shouted from every corner, selling flowers and fruits of every color and size imaginable. Arv gave a start as he saw an orc walk by, easily two feet taller than him, his tusks and muscles pronounced and matured. Arv’s gaze followed him as he passed, unable to keep from staring. His mouth fell agape and a strange feeling gripped his chest as he continued to look at the first adult orc he had ever seen in his life.

  The crowd turned even more diverse the further the man led them into the city, persons of all shapes and colors and sizes mingling about their business. Arv’s stomach growled as they passed a stand selling various meats on sticks, the pain reminding him of the weeks spent foraging on the road. But there would be time enough for that later…he hoped.

  Before long, the group found themselves in front of a grand building in the city's center. It was easily ten times the size of the town hall in Piria, and a hundred times as extravagant. Without even a pause to admire the craftsmanship, the man hurried them up the steps and through a set of massive doors. The interior matched what Arv expected, with furniture finer than anything else he had ever seen. Colors assaulted his eyes from every direction, and the sweet smell of flowers filled his nose as they approached a stern-looking woman sitting at a counter. The man whispered to her, and she nodded, turning to look at Arv and the three little people on his back. She raised an eyebrow and adjusted the spectacles on her nose.

  “Take a seat. The judge will be available shortly.” She gestured to a plush bench off to the side of the room. “And take these. You must be starving.”

  Arv’s mouth watered as she handed over a tray of beans and rice with flatbread. Not his favorite, but he would eat anything at this point. He took it with a grateful nod and stepped over to the bench. Three little thumps struck the floor, and he felt as the weight of the girls left his back. With a sigh, he sank down onto the bench, allowing at least a small part of him to relax for the first time in weeks. His sisters and Shamil took what they needed from the plate, and only then did Arv eat. It barely put a dent in the growling hole in his stomach, but he was still grateful?. Arv looked one more time at the girls huddled on the bench beside him. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

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  ***

  Shamil stared ahead at the painting on the wall. It was some exotic bird, probably from somewhere up north. She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. It was a shitty painting, anyway. Her head ached and her eyes burned from the strain, but she kept staring. If she stared hard enough, maybe the howls of wolves and the smell of blood would get out of her head.

  All was quiet save the scratch of the stern woman’s quill at her desk, and the unusually gentle snores of Arv beside her. She glanced over at Neyra and Elle. They stared dead ahead at the painting as well, trying to forget, just as she was.

  “High Judge Harlan will see you now,”

  Shamil blinked in surprise. She hadn’t even heard the woman approach. With a soft smile, she led them down a hallway and to an impressive door. She knocked once and gave them one more gentle smile before heading back the way she came. It was only a moment before the door swung open, revealing an older man in official looking robes. He gave a slight start at the sight of Arv, but his expression quickly softened again.

  “Ah, yes. Come in, come in.”

  He bowed to the side and ushered them into a modest office. A large desk filled one side of the room, and the walls seemed made of books for the amount of bookshelves that lined them. A bench not unlike the one they waited on stood across from the desk. He motioned for them to take a seat as he strode around to his own plush chair. The moment he sat, he went straight to business.

  “Now,” he said carefully, “I understand it may cause great distress to relive it, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened to your village. Spare no detail. I need you to remember everything you can. Please,”

  The children glanced at one another apprehensively, and Shamil gave Neyra a reassuring nod. Shamil watched as her best friend took a deep breath and spoke.

  It took them nearly an hour to relay the whole harrowing experience. Judge Harlan interrupted occasionally, asking for clarification or pressing for more detail. But he was empathetic and gentle as he listened. His quill scratched furiously as he took notes of everything that was said. At the end of it all, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

  “I wish I could tell you that your parents arrived before you did, but they did not.? If they arrive, we will inform you immediately.”

  Shamil’s heart sank as he said it, even though it was news she had braced herself for.

  “Now, as for this army of shadow, it is unlike anything I have ever heard of in the entire existence of this continent. I fear that if what you say is true, more is at stake than the southern villages. Much, much more.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have a great deal to think about, and much more to report to my superiors. But please know that what you’ve provided me might save the lives of thousands. You’ve done a great service, and your parents would be proud.”

  He smiled sadly at them as Elle sniffled. Harlan opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment.

  “So…what now?” Shamil asked, watching as he scribbled. He looked up, his quill only pausing for the briefest moment.

  “Yes, that is what I am attending to…” he said, adding the last flourish to his writing. He then poured wax and pressed in his ring. He leaned over the desk and handed the sheet to Neyra, who took it with shaking hands.

  “Just a few blocks north of here is an establishment called Greybeard’s Tavern. I am good friends with the proprietor. He’s an odd fellow, but a good man. Show this to him. He’ll know you’ve come on my order. Master Greybeard will take you in. At least until your parents arrive in the city.”

  He rose from his seat, and the rest of them followed. “Until we next meet,” he said, bowing as Shamil followed the Tallfellows out of the room in a haze.

  Soon they stood in front of a bustling tavern, sealed paper in hand.

  “This is the place.” Neyra said, looking up at the sign that swayed and creaked in the breeze. Old Gods send this man was as honorable as the judge claimed. With paper in hand she steeled herself, raised her chin up, and boldly walked through the double doors, the others hustling after her.

  ***

  Greybeard was indeed a bit of a strange fellow. For a start, he had no first name, or at least none he would willingly disclose. He just went by Greybeard. He claimed to be in his three hundreds, or so he supposed. That made him pretty old for a dwarf, but Neyra could swear just by looking into his eyes that he was much much older than that. Perhaps it was just his grandfatherly wisdom, or the confidence with which he ran his business. But no matter the dwarf’s age, Judge Harlan was right. He was a good and honorable person. And he took all four of them in immediately, with no questions asked.

  Master Greybeard was a dwarf in every sense of the word, the top of his balding head only reaching to Arv’s waist. His bushy beard was a little more white than gray, and it certainly was the most distinctive thing about him. He did everything in his power to make them feel at home in his tavern, giving them full access to the upstairs living quarters. And as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, he became more and more of a father figure to them. He gave them a home, gave them work, and gave them love. And several months later, when those cursed shadows appeared on the horizon once again, he took them by their hands and they all fled together.