Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“How do you keep in touch with the Astor?” asked Fisher.

“We don’t,” shrugged Tutman. “Once in a while Wyant or one of the tribal leaders comes to town. They give a talk and disappear again. I hope something happens soon. The Jiadin are starting to climb the walls here. They can’t stand being cooped up in the city. They get rowdier with every passing day.”

“Is that what happened to your leg?” asked Fisher.

“Some of the men thought they would have some fun with me,” nodded Tutman. “A big one picked me up and was swinging me over his head. They were wagering which table I might land on when he let go. I didn’t actually land on any table,” frowned Tutman, “but I did bust my leg. The girls broke up the party and carried me into the kitchen.”

“I will contact Rejji and tell him he has a problem brewing here,” offered Fisher, “but I still can’t figure out what Vand wants here. And time is running out.”

“All that I can think of,” mused Tutman, “is the location of Angragar. The Jiadin ask that question every time someone shows up here. It really bothers them that the secret is being withheld from them.”

“Do you know when someone is coming next?” asked Fisher.

“It should be tonight or tomorrow,” answered Tutman. “Someone usually comes on the full moon. It’s none too soon for my tastes. The visits usually tame the Jiadin for a while. That is why today is so bad. It has been a long time since the last visit.”

“Where does the speech take place?” asked Fisher.

“Just up the street,” answered Tutman. “Directly across the street is the administration building. Wyant, or whoever, holds some meetings in there with some of the senior Jiadin. Then they all go to the large park up the street. They give a speech addressing all of the concerns and then they come here for a night’s sleep. The next day they are gone again.”

“Does Wyant stay in the same room each time?” asked Fisher.

“Yes,” nodded Tutman. “He gets the large corner room every time.”

“Can you give me a room next to his?” asked Fisher.

“I can,” frowned Tutman. “Do you think they will try to harm him?”

“I don’t know what to expect,” admitted Fisher. “It is just too much of a coincidence that Clarvoy is coming to Meliban at the same time Wyant is. He either wants to eliminate Wyant or force him to tell the secret of Angragar. Killing Wyant would hardly seem worth the trip. Who does Wyant meet with across the street?”

“There are about a dozen of them,” replied Tutman, “but the ringleader is a big guy by the name of Harmagan. Be cautious around that one. The man is a killer.”

“Is there a back way into the administration building?” asked Fisher. “I want to hear what Wyant says to the Jiadin.”

“There is a back door,” replied Tutman, “but it will be locked. Harmagan and a few others live in the administration building. You can’t get in without them knowing about it.”

“I am not even sure if Wyant is what they are after,” shrugged Fisher. “I think I will walk around the city and see if I notice anything strange.”

“Take your room key,” offered the innkeeper as he pulled a key out of his desk drawer and handed it to Fisher. “There will be no charge the first night. I appreciate the healing you did.”

“Thank you,” smiled Fisher. “Keep off that leg, and it will heal just fine now.”

Fisher left the Kheri Inn and walked to the park where the speech would be given. A knife fight had drawn a large crowd, and dozens of Jiadin were cheering for their favorite fighter. The noise was deafening. Fisher turned and left the park and headed down a narrow alleyway that passed behind the administration building. The back door to the building may have been unlocked, but it hardly mattered. Two mean looking Jiadin stood outside the back door with swords drawn. They glared at Fisher as if daring him to approach. The spy walked quickly by the doorway and did not look back.

At the mouth of the alleyway, another crowd of Jiadin were gathered. Two groups of warriors appeared to be squaring off against each other. Swords were drawn and insults were being thrown with abandon. As Fisher tried to exit the alley and move past the crowd, one of the Jiadin pivoted, his sword pointing towards Fisher’s chest. Fisher immediately backpedaled into the alley to avoid being sucked into the brewing fight.

As Fisher turned around and headed back along the alley towards the park, he saw the two guards in the distance. He stopped walking and leaned against the wall in the darkness. He was finding nothing out and walking around Meliban was dangerous, and not because he was a spy. It was just a dangerous city to walk around at night. He sighed with frustration and moved into a small alcove between the buildings, dropping to ground to sit with his back against the building. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the distant shouting so that he could concentrate and think of some reason for Clarvoy to travel to Meliban.

A noise forced Fisher to open his eyes, but it was not the loud noise of boisterous shouting. It was the soft click of a single person’s footsteps. Fisher gazed into the dimly lit alley, the only light coming from the full moon high overhead. He heard the footsteps coming closer. Fisher was not sure what intrigued him about the sound of footsteps in the alley, but he held his breath as they came closer. A figure walked past the small alcove, and Fisher nearly gasped. The man was out of sight within a second, but Fisher was sure that he had recognized the Jiadin warrior. What bothered Fisher about recognizing the man is that he was positive that Brakas was already dead.

Fisher rose slowly from the ground in the alcove and crept to the corner of the alleyway. He peered around the corner at the Jiadin warrior walking along the alley towards the park. Brakas stopped near the two guards stationed behind the administration building. The three men exchanged words, but it was too far for Fisher to hear what was said. Fisher was about to ease out of the alcove and follow Brakas when the two guards ushered the Jiadin warrior into the administration building. Fisher frowned as he heard the door slam and a bolt thrown to lock it.

While he might not find out why Clarvoy was coming to Meliban, Fisher knew that following Brakas could lead to important information. He immediately dismissed his thoughts of Clarvoy and looked upward to find a way onto the roof of the administration building. His eyes followed the roofline until they came back to the alcove. Seeing that the buildings were connected, Fisher entered the alcove again and peered upward. He had not brought any rope with him, but the alcove was narrow. His eyes peered into the darkness for a handhold to begin his climb. Wedging one foot on each wall, Fisher reached up and grabbed an indentation in the wood. His fingertips ached as he moved his feet higher and looked for the next imperfection in the wooden walls.

It took Fisher much longer than he cared to spend to climb to the roof, but he had no other choice. His fingertips were raw and bleeding from wood slivers that had pricked his skin. Fisher wiped the blood on his clothes and ignored the pain. He walked cautiously along the roof of the administration building, placing each step with care. His eyes scanned the roof for any type of hatch that might allow access into the building, but he could not find one.

Fisher sighed noiselessly as he realized that he was missing a valuable conversation. He moved to the edge of the roof and stared down. There were several windows on the second level of the administration building. As far as Fisher could see, they were the only way that he could gain entrance to the building. He chose a window at random and leaned over the edge of the roof above it. He could barely see into the dark room, but he sensed nothing moving in it. Fisher straightened up and removed his pack. He pulled a knife and cut the straps from the pack and tied them together.