46.

  Dade felt naked.

  He wasn’t naked. But he felt that way.

  Both his armor and his sword were packed away back at their tents. He had a smaller sword on his hip, but it wasn’t the same thing.

  It just felt wrong to walk through a crowd and not feel the weight of armor on his shoulders.

  To know that the hilt of his sword, his sword, not this small excuse for a blade at his side, was just over his head, exactly where it was meant to be.

  They had discussed it and decided it would be best not to wear the armor and great sword. Cunāe didn’t usually wear heavy metal armor. Their fighting style, based on quick movement around a battlefield, didn’t allow for it. Anyone with a bit of knowledge about the military, after a little observation, would likely still be able to identify that Dade was at the least associated with the military at some point in his life. But to wear the armor and sword was all but shouting that he still was.

  On top of that, there were enough myths and legends amongst the Cunāe about the ‘Evil Commander Dade’ that included fairly accurate descriptions of his gear. To wear them risked someone identifying him completely. Strangely, the myths all failed to actually describe the man inside. Without the armor, there was less chance anyone would know who he was.

  Kedra, for her part, was enjoying the whole thing.

  She got to walk side by side with her husband and look like a normal couple. They held hands, something they rarely did. In part because Dade was always worried about the appearance of a loss of authority amongst the soldiers. Which was fine because she didn’t usually want to hold his hand anyway. She kept bumping into the ends of his sword and the hard edges of the armor. And truth be told she wasn’t typically the hand holding type. Which made the instances when they did that much better.

  On top of that there was the added perk that Dade’s lack of arms and armor was clearly getting under his skin.

  “Jaelle gave you a token then?” she asked.

  “Yes, it was the last one. But she’d been holding it for me specifically.”

  “Then you should challenge someone.”

  “Who? Part of the game is to make sure you are challenging someone else with a token. I’ve only the one, so I can’t lose it by challenging someone who doesn’t have one, but it seems base to just start challenging people at random.”

  “I suppose each clan will give them to people that are important in their clan. So, look for someone who’s important.”

  “How am I supposed to tell that? I know the flags on the wagons are chock full of information, but from what I’ve seen the people don’t fly flags of their own. Besides, if it was my clan, I would give the tokens to the best gamblers and people that were naturally lucky.”

  “Challenge that guy,” said Kedra pointing to an large man whose long beard was dripping from the ale he was drinking. The term ‘drinking’ being used loosely as he was so drunk that most of each swig completely missed his mouth. A fact that was clearly not bothering him.

  “Do you suspect he’s important in his clan or lucky? Because I’m going to wager on neither.”

  “I don’t suspect he is either. What I do suspect is that he is so sloppy drunk you should be able to beat him. Heck, I’m going to guess he’ll struggle to put out a single finger and he’ll probably see double or treble versions of any you put out. Just tell him you won and then when he doesn’t have any tokens, ask him who in his clan does.”

  “I . . .” Dade started, but then failing to find any fault with the plan, he shut his mouth and walked over to the man. A few moments later he walked back to Kedra.

  “I knew there was a reason that I married you,” Dade said with a smile. “Beautiful and intelligent.”

  “Naturally,” Kedra said with a quick mock curtsy. “What did you learn?”

  “I learned that the large tent over there with the blue top and yellow pennants is an ale tent,” said Dade pointing. “And that Corbin is in it drinking with four friends from other clans. All of which have tokens.”

  “And how do we identify this Corbin?”

  “We just look for the man with a duck on his head.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say. He just gave me what passes for a knowing wink in the completed soused community and wouldn’t comment on it again.”

  “Okay then. A man with a duck on his head.”

  The ale tent was the largest tent in the area. It was forty feet long and twenty wide. Crammed under the bulk of it was a collection of tables that were all packed with people in various states of inebriation. What little space wasn’t taken up by tables and chairs, and a good bit of the area around the tent as well, was full of people standing. Everyone was carrying on conversations and when you added in the laughter it meant you practically had to shout to be heard.

  On the far edge of the tent was a counter made of boards laid across barrels. Eight people on one side of the counter were scrambling as fast as they could to fill the orders of the throng of people on the other.

  “As much as I want to see the man with a duck on his head, I’m going to pass on going into that mess. I think I’ll try my luck over there,” said Kedra pointing to a much smaller tent.

  “Suit yourself,” said Dade over his shoulder.

  He pushed his way through the crowd trying to find a man with a duck on his head. Having reached the counter without succeeding it seemed only reasonable to buy a drink. And since the wait to get served was so long, it seemed only reasonable that he should buy two and avoid having to wait again if he decided to have another.

  If squeezing through the crowd had been tough before, doing it while trying not to spill two full tankards was practically impossible. Dade shifted and shoved his way between people with the two mugs lifted high. He’d made it back halfway across the room and had decided to give up looking for Corbin until after he’d gotten rid of the ales when he heard a voice behind him.

  “If it isn’t Dade. You piece of crap.”

  So much for anonymity.

  Dade turned around and found four men sitting at a table that was littered with empty tankards. Unlike the other tables, even though there was plenty of room and a couple of empty chairs, the empty spaces were not being taken.

  They all had the look of men who had seen their fair share of combat. Dade had no idea who two of the men were, but the other two were immediately recognizable, as he had served with both in the Lorenthian Army. One of which he’d been in boot camp with.

  “Lefty Logoran. They told me you’d turned into a real asshole, but I can see they were holding back on the truth. You look like something I scraped off my boot.”

  “Let’s be abundantly clear,” Logoran said standing up. “I’ve always been a real asshole. It just took a while for people to realize it!”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Laughing, Logoran took a step forward and embraced Dade in a bear hug.

  “Sit down, you old turd! We’re all old friends here,” Logoran said.

  There was an empty space on Logoran’s right. Dade took the offered chair.

  “You know Rollie,” Logoran said pointing across the table. “Oswick here is also an escapee from the rank and file. That’s Noddrin. He never enlisted, but he’s an asshole just the same. What are you doing here? I would never have figured you for the Cunāe. Are you spying for Lorenthia now?”

  “I’m in Clan Zenja actually,” Dade replied giving a nod to the others at the table.

  “So, spying for them then?” asked Rollie.

  “Isn’t everyone a spy for their clan?” Dade replied. “Now who’s going to help me drink this extra ale?”

  “Good point. Give me the tankard,” answered Noddrin taking the extra mug from Dade. “Zenja. What’s going on with that lot?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Dade.

  “Are they serious about the things they say? Or are they still a bunch of molla with new leadership?”

  “And which clan are you with?” Dade asked.

  “Clan Miya.”

  “Never heard of them, but I’m going to bet the leaders of clan Miya are no better than those of Zenja. In my experience, all leaders are pains in the ass, unless you are one of them.”

  “Well put. I will drink to that!” Noddrin drained the tankard of ale and slammed the empty mug onto the table.

  “In all seriousness though,” Dade said, “Zenja is nothing like Clan Yoska if that’s what you are driving at. Yoska may have started differently, but he ended an evil man who sold his soul and got caught short when the bill came due. The world is a better place without him.”

  “I’d drink to that as well,” Noddrin said. “But my mug is empty. I had limited dealings with them back in the day and I can’t prove anything, but I believe that lot stole quite a bit from my clan and killed four friends of mine. If he wasn’t dead, I would have half a mind to kill him myself.

  “What were you looking for Dade?” asked Logoran. “You didn’t come in here looking for a seat. Shuffling around here with those mugs up, you were looking for something or someone.”

  “I was looking for a fellow by the name of Corbin. I was told he was in here.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “No. I wanted to challenge him for his tokens.”

  “Well, you are too late for that,” said Rollie. “He was sitting in the same chair you are, but he left just before you got here. But don’t worry, he didn’t leave with any tokens. And don’t bother with us three either. Noddrin took the lot of them.”

  “Well then, I guess I found the right person after all.”

  “Care to try your luck?” Noddrin asked. “It’s a silly game, but it does its purpose. Gets people talking.”

  “Sure, but let’s sweeten the pot.”

  “Okay. Loser also has to get the next three rounds.”

  “Done,” said Dade. “I’ll take odds.”

  The two men squared up to each other across the table. An air of seriousness filled the space, which was at the same time quite comical given that they were about to face off with a child’s game. Both men put forward a hand clenched in a fist.

  “On three,” said Noddrin. “One. Two. Three.”

  Noddrin and Dade both extended one finger. The total was even. Dade had lost.

  “Oh well,” said Dade sliding his token across the table.

  “One token,” said Noddrin in astonishment. “That’s it?”

  “Indeed. Sorry but I was just getting started. Now how do I get fifteen tankards from over there to over here without looking like the idiot I would be.”

  “That’s easy,” said Logoran. He turned around in his chair and reaching back grabbed a hold of a man standing nearby. “You. Go buy us fifteen mugs and you can have three yourself.”

  “And who’s paying? Certainly not me,” the man said.

  “Him,” Logoran said pointing at Dade.

  Dade pulled out his money pouch and put several coins into the man’s hand.

  “This should cover it.”

  “I’ll say,” the man said shoving into the crowd in the direction of the bar.

  Dade turned back to the table and said, “Alright. Where were we?”

  “I believe we’d established you are a spy for Clan Zenja and possibly Lorenthia and that Yoska like all leaders, and commanders, was an ass,” said Rollie.

  “Fair enough,” said Dade. “You know it was right over there that Yoska died. Closer to the lake in that direction.”

  “I heard he burned up in demonic fire. Is that true?” asked Noddrin.

  “Not exactly. He did burn up after a fashion, but there were no flames. His body turned into charred black ash from the inside out. But I wouldn’t rule out a deal with something evil being the cause.”

  Noddrin made a warding sign with his hand, a familiar bit of Cunāe superstition that Dade recognized.

  “Speaking of fires though,” Dade said, “let me ask you about another one. What do you know about the fire at the Cunāe retreat in the Camberlyn mountains?”

  “I suspect you can tell us more than we can tell you,” said Noddrin. “It was you lot that did all of the burying. Or at least that is what I heard.”

  “What’s that mean?” asked Rollie.

  “I was there,” admitted Dade. “It was probably one of the worst things I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing. The place was an inferno when we arrived. Two clans’ worth of tents, wagons and people all burning. We spent six days putting out fires and burying the dead. And yet for all the death and destruction, I can tell you no more about what happened and why, than I can tell you why the sky is blue and the sun yellow.

  “That’s why I ask. There are nights when I can still see the corpses. It was horrific and as far as I know pointless. If I could give it some meaning, it may not make the dead rest easier, but it might allow me to.”

  “Fair enough,” said Noddrin, “but I’m afraid I can’t help you. You’ve already told me more than I knew before. I’ve a friend who has a friend that was in the clan that came into the valley next. I heard there were a lot of graves and a note from Lorenthian Army explaining as well as they could what had happened.”

  “That’s about it,” admitted Dade. “As I said before, we came into the valley, and everything was already on fire. Only there was no sign of attack, no sign of defense, no sign of an enemy, no sign of anything. Just a lot of fire and a lot of dead. Was the valley used by all of the Cunāe clans?”

  “More or less,” said Logoran. “Actually, more less than more these days.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Logoran leaned forward and stared into Dade’s eyes. “I’ve had too much to drink to keep track of the secrets and the intrigue. You say you’re with Zenja and I choose to believe you. But then again, you admit to being at the valley and leaving a note left by the Lorenthian Army. I suspect that’s closer to the truth than the other, but I also know you from way back Dade. You were a driven soldier, and you were often a prick, but you were always a good man too. So, let’s give my half-sotted brain a break and speak plainly.”

  “Fair enough,” said Dade. “I am with Clan Zenja, and I swear that I am not interested in doing anything that might cause them or any other good clan harm. But it is also true that I haven’t severed all of my old ties. I’m looking into the idea that some Cunāe clans are trying to start a war with Lorenthia. I know that Yoska used to be involved in it and I don’t care who was involved in it in the past. I’m just wondering if it died with Yoska or is it still something my ‘clan’ should be worried about now.”

  “Well, that’s pretty plain,” said Rollie. “Yoska was definitely involved, but it neither began nor ended with him or his clan. Yoska dying ended some of their schemes and probably put some others on hold, but they had more irons in the fire than that.”

  “I agree,” said Noddrin. “I haven’t heard about nearly as much nonsense going on with that lot lately, but they are still out there.”

  “How many clans are involved?” asked Dade.

  “Hard to say. When I first learned of it, it seemed like every other clan you came across was involved. But then as the truth of what was going on became clearer, many of the clans left it just as quickly as they joined. If I had to guess, I’d say no more than twenty clans now and probably somewhere closer to ten.”

  “Any of the clans here?”

  “No. At least, not that I know of. It was a smart move declaring the conclave a peaceful one. Gave them no reason to come looking for a fight. Odds and evens may be a bit childish, but it was the right choice.”

  “What is the conspiracy all about?” asked Dade. “I’ve heard the point was to defeat the Empire. But why pick a fight with the Lorenthian Army that you can’t hope to win?”

  “Beats me,” said Logoran. “I can’t say for sure, but I get the idea that the ‘war’ against Lorenthia was little more than an excuse to run rampant.”

  “Probably just a way to disguise their true intentions,” added Rollie. “But what those are, I cannot fathom.”

  “So was the retreat in the mountains their gathering spot?”

  “Not officially,” said Noddrin. “Any clan was welcome to go there, and I never heard about anyone being told otherwise. But I have heard of plenty of clans finding the hospitality of the place shifting quickly to cold when clans in the conspiracy showed up wanting to talk in secret. No one told them to leave, but they left pretty quickly just the same.”

  “I’ll agree with that,” said Rollie. “I know on more than one occasion we sent people ahead to see what clans were already there. If we didn’t like who it was, we gave the mountains a pass.”

  The man from the crowd returned with another two men. All three had trays laden with mugs. The mugs had sloshed considerably on their journey and the bottom of the trays each had half an inch of ale collected in them.

  Dade thanked all three of them after they had set the trays on the table and told the first man to keep the change. He then began passing the mugs around. When he was done, and after each of the men had taken several long drinks, Dade returned to the conversation.

  “If Yoska wasn’t in charge of it all, then who was? What clan is leading the revolution?”

  “That’s a good question,” said Logoran. “I’ve heard of half a dozen clans who were involved, but I’ve never heard of a ringleader.”

  “Me neither,” said Rollie. “I’d heard Yoska was an important figure in it, but never that he was the man at the top.”

  “I also couldn’t say for sure,” said Noddrin, but Dade could tell the man was holding something back.

  “Couldn’t or won’t?” Dade asked.

  “I could speculate, but that’s all it would be. And while you may be navorai, I certainly am not. I have no desire to sick the Lorenthian Army or anyone else on clanmates.”

  “Fair enough,” said Dade. “But what about those four clanmates of yours that Yoska put in the ground? Which clanmates might go down next?”

  Noddrin stared at Dade over the top of his mug as he drank and contemplated. Finally, he set the mug down and said, “I’ll make you a wager. We’ll go again and if you beat me, I’ll tell you what I think about the whole mess. And if I win, you tell me everyone in your clan that has more than one token.”

  “Done,” said Dade bringing his fist back above the table. “I think I will stick with odds.”