Chapter Twenty Six

  Silver Toll for Black Oak

  Over hill and dale, they found their way to the red city that sat on the shore, Remare. Last they were here, they had been hosted by the good Govenor Constatin Gil. Last they were here, Nephis had bullied them into the city. But now that they were here, all of that was uncertain. The cart and horse plodded along the stone road, and before the city was a mere haze on the horizon, the great lines into the city made themselves known. In fact, it seemed as if they had not shrunk an inch in the months since they had last seen them. As they arrived at the back of the line, the sky grew a warm red as the sun set for the evening. The evening came so quickly in the fall. The three of them were jammed into one of the many lanes. And for a while, the lines continued to move, until bells sang from the red city. Tolling the end of the working day. The gates would be shut tight until dawn.

  Nephis sighed as she looked over the sea of people trying to get in. There was little mourning it; there had been no chance of them being let in that night. That night, they nibbled on some tough biscuits and turned in. Nephis and Kugo pulled the canvas tarp over the bed of the wagon and each found a corner to crawl into. Meanwhile, Moss stood guard, watching over the ever-darkening night and the blots of light that still gleamed from the red city. Though she had grown used to it, the bed of the wagon was still rough and cold. With the canvas pulled over them, it was as black as pitch. There was only the soft creaking of wood and the distant chatter of other travelers, muffled by the thick walls. Crickets chirped in the grasses. Before she had left on this journey, Nephis had never known how terribly loud they were. But even as they camped a hundred feet away, it seemed they were by her ear, playing their charming and shrill song far too late into the night. But eventually, the night and the evening took her beneath the surface of the water.

  Even with an early morning, it took them all day to make it to the end of the line. Nephis feared for a while that she’d never forget the balding head of the wagoner before them. But, eventually, she could hear the voices of the guards interrogating comers-in. By instinct, Nephis reached for her silver ring, but it was not on her finger. Ah. It was still tucked away in her bag. She held for a second, thinking to present it, to ignore all the questions and troubles of the governor’s men. Then, she thought to present herself as a friend of the governor. But, through all the troubles and dangers of the past weeks, she had nearly forgotten that she was no longer a woman belonging to the crown. Nephis was a runaway. And if she were found out, Kugo and Moss would be killed for ‘kidnapping’ her.

  “Kugo,” she called, “I’ve never come into a city this way. What are we to do?”

  “Don’t worry,” he called back in a dull voice, “We are a few faces among thousands, we’re not interesting. They care more about collecting dues from merchants than us.” And then Kugo paused; he saw something posted against the walls for the guards. A notice and a single portrait of someone very familiar. “Nephis,” he called again, “Put something over your head, a shawl, whatever you have.”

  “I don’t have a shawl,” she answered, “Am I to marry you?” she joked.

  “Just put anything on,” he reached back into the cart and threw an empty sack at her, “quickly.”

  Nephis threw it over her hair, so long as no one looked too closely, it would look well enough – if a little impoverished.

  “And Moss,” Kugo called, “Erm, stay as still as you can.”

  “Aye,” answered Moss.

  “Papers,” the guard called.

  “Haven’t any,” Kugo put on a simple voice. Neither Nephis or Moss had ever heard him do such a voice, thick with soil and light of education.

  Nephis bit her tongue to keep herself from bursting into laughter.

  “What’s the wagon for then?” the guard questioned. “Mind if I have a look?”

  “Have your look,” Kugo answered. “Ain’t nothing but my missus and our things.”

  The guard poked around, finding only their bags and Nephis with her knees to her chest. His eyes were grey, and the bags under them were deep and dull; any amusement that once lay there had been sucked away since noon. Then he squinted at her and tried to look closer. Nephis pulled away and coughed.

  “Your wife looks awfully young for you,” the guard commented.

  “Ha! Would you believe that she’s older than me?” Kugo replied.

  Nephis glanced to see Kugo hunched over himself, his hands in his lap.

  “Really? Speaking of that, what’s the mask for?” the guard asked. “Unusual for someone to come here disguised and with an empty cart.”

  “Had a terrible burn some years back, all over my face. I look like a chewed-up piece of leather. But the worst of it is the wind. It stings me. So I keep my mask on. But my dear Doina still loves me so,” Kugo spouted off.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. And what of the cart?” the guard asked again.

  “My wife is weak-legged. What a pair we make!” Kugo laughed in his simple voice.

  The guard sighed, “Well, I hope you know there’s a toll for wagons and horses. A silver piece,” the guard rattled off.

  “A silver!” Kugo exclaimed. “That can’t be right! That’s so much. I’m not even bringing anything to market.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that is the law. I don’t make it,” the guard raised his hands up as if he was apologetic, but by the haggard tone in his voice, it was clear how many times today he had already had this conversation. “It helps pay for roads and repairs to the walls.”

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?” Kugo pressed.

  “K- Dear?” Nephis interrupted. “Why are you arguing with him? Do you want us to be kicked out?”

  “Well, it’s just-” Kugo went on spattering excuses and decrying how unfair it all was.

  “Sir. It’s a silver piece, or I cannot allow you in. That is the law,” the guard said firmly.

  “Oh,” the farmer Kugo groaned and reached into his meager pouch to give the man his silver piece. Though this time, the pain in his voice sounded genuine.

  The guard allowed them through. But as they headed on, the guard told Moss to stop, and then, looking at him, let out a cry of fright.

  “That’d be our wood cutter,” Kugo called back.

  “Wood cutter?” the guard exclaimed. “That thing?”

  “Aye. It’s been with my family for decades now. I even took it to Saint Albert’s College, had them look him over. He’s just a creature, capable of no harm, so long as you’re not made of wood. Look here, they even gave me this paper,” and Kugo presented a document, full of ink and even having a seal of the emblem of the Library of Saint Albert. The guard took it, and his eyes soon glazed over the words he did not understand.

  “Well, I suppose,” the guard stammered.

  “How’s that for your papers. I’ll bet there’s no fee for wood cutters either,” Kugo prodded.

  “Right, get on through,” the guard said. “Next!”

  Nephis kept her mouth shut as they passed through the gate. And nailed to the wall were numerous papers and notices for the guards, but among them was a single portrait that Nephis recognized. It was of her. Though in it she looked a bit younger, it was a copy of a painting that lay on the walls of the palace. Nephis pulled the sack over her face a bit more, her own black ink face staring back at her. It was no wonder that the news of her disappearance would eventually reach the shores.

  They emerged through the gates. Nephis heart crashed all at once. The gleaming red roofs of Radina seemed like a feast for victors. “Where did you get papers for Moss?” Nephis asked.

  “Take a look,” Kugo said and handed her the document. She skimmed them over. Much of it was nonsense, great long words only an academic would care for. The wood cutter was a machine of antiquated design, purposed for the use and sole use of bisecting lumber to a width no lesser than a quarter of an inch. And so on. As she raised her finger from the page, she noticed it was stained black. Kugo raised up his thumbs; they too were black with ink, and Nephis saw the gleam of a pen nib in his sleeve.

  Nephis snorted.

  “And what a lucky break that we had a silver coin,” Nephis said, “After all, we’ve only just got this cart.”

  “Do you really think I didn’t know?” Kugo asked. “Of course, I knew. Most every city has a toll for wagons and carts. Never had to pay it before, though.”

  “Do you suppose Marcus and Lorelei and Mouse are still all here?” Nephis asked.

  “I certainly hope so,” Kugo answered with a sigh.

  “They said they would,” Moss answered. “So they are here.”

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  And so they set out looking for them. They delved every lowly tavern and highly church, they scoured the poor houses and the missions, the Knights of the Black Oak were nowhere to be seen, not even in the sour scented slaving docks. After two days of searching Radina, they were exhausted and worn thin. They had not even the money to pay for a room in any inn, so they had slept in the cart again. To Nephis, it was better than the ground, but only if to avoid the cold. Defeated, they trudged through the city, walking in circles, until they were stopped in their tracks by a familiar sight.

  Three armored knights proselytized before a weary town guard.

  “Come, strong men!” cried Marcus. “Prove your metal, your spirit in the pursuit of a better world for all! Work not for pay, but for equality for your fellow man!”

  Nephis, Kugo, and Moss watched silently for a while. The guards did not pay them any mind; rather than join them, the speech furrowed their brows and darkened their eyes.

  “Lorelei!” Nephis called out to the blonde knight.

  “Ah!” Lorelei turned upon hearing her voice. “You have come! Wonderful!”

  “Yes,” Nephis answered with a bit of copper in her tongue, “Things rarely go as planned.”

  “Very wise,” she replied, “But sometimes they do go as planned. We found what we were looking for. You must come with us tonight. I will show it to you as we promised. We even found something else.”

  “Lorelei!” Mouse snapped from out of nowhere, “Eyes on your labors!”

  “Sorry, Mouse,” Lorelei squeaked. “Meet us tonight. We are staying at the Dog and Cat tavern.”

  The tavern was a great hall made red with low, flickering lantern light and old well worn wood. The party and the Knights of the Black Oak crowded around a table, stuffed against the far wall and a great stack of crates, as far out of the way as one could be in such a place. Mouse insisted upon privacy. They made a motte with backs and mugs and flagons around the treasure the Knights had plucked from some far dungeon. It was small and glinted in the low light, a brooch of silver and some black metal intertwined around a great crimson ruby set in its center, carved with the elegant profile of some unknown saint. So well was that ruby carved, that all of them were sure to have never seen such delicate work on gem or metal.

  “We found it,” Marcus whispered, “In the deepest and furthest crypt, stuck to the bosom of a king, no doubt.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Nephis remarked. She brought her head down low to gaze every which way at it. Even today, it would have been a most prized treasure in the Crown’s vault for the carving alone.

  “What do you suppose it does?” Marcus said with a sly grin.

  “Stop spilling our secrets,” Mouse rebuked him harshly, “What will Captain Fane think?”

  “Oh, shush,” Marcus groaned, “Have another drink. These are friends. And we do not know everything it does. Only one.”

  Mouse grumbled under his breath, but pulled back to have another drink. His wide ears waiting for any creeping footsteps or lingering breaths.

  “So, what do you suppose it does?” Marcus asked again. “Put some coin down, I’ll triple it if you’re right.”

  The three were silent, after spending a good chunk of their money just to enter the city, none of them were too keen on losing more.

  When Marcus saw them gazing off and shifting in their seats, he sighed, disappointment flitting across his face. “Oh, none of you are fun. So be it, I will just show you then.”

  Marcus gently set the brooch on his cloak, holding it between his fingers as if it were made of paper. And then, he removed his glove and set his sturdy hand on the table, shifting it across the smooth wood as if it were settling into a seat. Without warning, he raised a dagger and plunged it into his hand with a great thum! Each of the party flinched, and Nephis let out a small scream, covering her eyes. But, out of morbid curiosity, she looked again to see the dagger not in his hand, but stuck an inch into the table. It had slid or bounced from him, like he was made of steel.

  Kugo leaned in, grabbing his and turning it over.

  “Well?” Marcus pressed smugly, “What do you see?”

  “Not a scratch,” Kugo answered in awe.

  “A marvelous treasure, indeed,” Marcus joked, “No doubt worth a mountain of gold to the right man.” He then gently took it from his cloak and returned it to the small, wool-stuffed chest they kept it in.

  “Why would you ever take it off?” Kugo asked.

  “It’s not mine to wear-” Marcus began, when all of the sudden, the barkeep stormed to their table.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” he bellowed. “Cutting up my table! Do you know how much-”

  Marcus signaled to Lorelei with a flick of his wrist. The girl gently brought a purse to her lap and from it set a golden coin into the barkeep’s hand. “We are very sorry, sir,” she said, batting golden lashes, capturing his gaze and anger in a single sentence. “I hope this is enough.”

  “I- er,” the barkeep’s anger fizzled. “Yes, that should cover it.” And he returned to his station, staring at the coin, how it glinted in the red light.

  They all watched the barman leave. And once he was out of sight, Marcus turned to the three of them again. “As it stands, we still owe you for saving our lives. I have not forgotten it. I will not forget it,” he said somberly, “We are about to set out to another place. This one, I expect, holds quite the treasure! What do you say to joining us and splitting what we find? From the sounds of it, the danger will match the reward.”

  “Absolutely not!” Mouse interrupted with a harsh hiss. “They are not one of us! I will not stand to give them an inch of what belongs to Captain Fane.”

  “Well, we do owe them quite a lot,” Marcus stammered.

  “No! They cannot join us!” Mouse protested, “Not unless they each become one of our order. But now, I wouldn’t trust their word.”

  “That is so wicked,” Lorelei cried, “Such a dark heart!”

  “You are naive!” Mouse replied. “I will not stand for it!”

  “Well, what about a friendly competition then?” Marcus suggested, pain in his eyes and his hands open in defeat and apology. “Winner takes all, and loser may take notes. What do you say?” he offered to the party.

  Nephis, Kugo, and Moss each leaned in to talk it over. It was reasonable enough, they thought. They had little clue of where to go without it.

  “Alright,” Nephis answered, “We will go.”

  Mouse sat sullen, a dark shadow in his eyes, but he said nothing.

  As the night went on, they enjoyed each other’s company as best they could. Kugo took careful drawings of the brooch and marking down each slip from Marcus on its origins. When the time came, the Knights returned to their rooms for the evening, and our party returned to their cart and horse. A stable, as it turned out, was far cheaper than a room. The night was cold, but the horses and the hay and stone walls kept them warm enough. If nothing else, it was a treasure to be free from the biting wind that cut through the city streets. A strong wind pressed through the city that night, like the howling of a distant ghost, mourning the dark. But inside the bed of the wagon, the canvas pulled over them, tucked inside their bed rolls, it was just warm enough to lull them to sleep.

  By first light, the party shook off the cold and sat by the fire of that same tavern, hoping the barkeep would not notice they hadn’t ordered anything. While they still had a fair deal of coin in their purse from the problem with the fish, by now they knew well how quickly it could vanish. Sooner than they would have liked, the Knights of the Black Oak descended to meet them, arrayed in silvery armor and clean surcoats. And off they went.

  For a day and a night, they traveled along the white stone highway, and for a day and a night, they traveled the backways, along dirt roads and creeping brush. The leaves of the woods had begun to turn, not yet red but still aching in their final days. The road to their destination, an old and long-forgotten mausoleum, was a lonely one. As they traveled, Nephis’ eyes were caught on the shining silver of Lorelei’s mail. It seemed without dent or scratch, as perfect as still water.

  “Why do you keep your armor so?” Nephis asked.

  “So what?” Lorelei replied.

  “So shining?” Nephis asked, “It must take awfully long.”

  Lorelei laughed. “It does! Horribly long! But the people need something better than themselves to believe it. ‘A shining, perfect vision,’” she quoted fondly.

  After many more hours, the trees all at once thinned to skinny, younger selves with green arms and tender forms. And in the center of this clearing was a great stone building, etched with moss and vine. It was grey with blocks the size of men, without windows or doors aside from a great, carved stone that was stuck in its mouth. Atop the cubish manor was a statue nearly as tall as it was. A man, worn by wind and rain, stood pointing to the sky, at the distant afternoon sun his arm outstretched to take all that lay across the horizon. His chiseled face had been reduced and eroded to a hazy dream of a man. No longer a man but the hope of a man. A phantom hidden in the forest.

  “Impressive! More impressive than the writings hinted!” Marcus praised with a chesty voice. “That is a man, wouldn’t you say, Kugo?”

  Kugo looked up to admire it. “A great man, no doubt,” he answered. “What did he do to earn such a tomb?”

  “The records of this period are few,” Marcus sighed, “But it is said this is the tomb of a conqueror. A general who took these hills and beyond for his kind and heaven.”

  “For heaven?” Nephis asked, her mind flitting to the images of birds and clouds carved into the white tower.

  “Indeed,” Marcus said. He stared for another while before approaching the tomb and patting it. “I, too, wish to be such a man. But enough of wistful dreaming! Let us be men and act! We are not the first to come here in hopes of conquering the tomb. None has yet conquered it. They say it is full of traps, perhaps even monsters that have nestled their way in, or at least rats of unusual size. But all that have tried before us were, doubtless, squeamish academics. Not the sort of person you trust in battle. I’d trust a thief with my back before I trusted an antiquarian.

  “Now, Mouse has voiced his disapproval of our working together. And as I trust my friends before I trust my debtors, I will agree that we should not work together. But even still, I am a man of my word, and a mouth of our dearest Captain Fane in these neglected lands, and as our Captain should never leave a debt unpaid, I will repay my debt to you. So we will have a friendly competition! The first to find the relics will keep them! And the loser will be allowed to study them for a while. As for the rules of our competition, I have one: that we will not harm one another. The tombs are dangerous as is, full of traps and sudden drops. We needn’t needlessly cut each other up. What do you say?”

  Everyone agreed, though Mouse less enthusiastically. And so they arranged themselves before the door to the tomb. The stone had once been carved with the life and victories of its entombed. But those were long lost.

  Marcus motioned to Lorelei, who revealed a bone case housing a scroll, white and unweathered.

  “Can you believe it?” Marcus whispered. “A woman has to say the words, or it won’t open. I wonder how long it took to find that out.”

  “Open your arms to me, O’ Lover. Let me pull you from your slumber to walk the lands you carved.”

  Lorelei spoke the ancient tongue falteringly. But he must have found it charming as the works carved into the stone door began to shimmer with blue light, like the first glow of the morning. And the great mouth of the tomb opened, and the stone was pulled from it before them. And inside, they saw nothing but black. A crypt awash with ink.

  Mouse rushed in headfirst, and his compatriots followed after him in all swiftness. Nephis and Kugo, and Moss could only blink for a moment before rushing in after them into the beast. As they passed the threshold, they heard stone grinding against stone. The light of the day faded as the stone returned to the mouth and locked them inside. There was nothing but the dark.