Tom Liberman - The Staff of Sakatha

“Everyone saw him come into town with the brewer boy this morning and he was talking with the blacksmith’s daughters. Nobody knows much about him yet but he’s going to have to come here eventually dad,” said the young man who fingered a slim sword scabbarded at his side.

“The symbol on his cloak, some kind of plant, what’s that all about?” said the man.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know dad. Why don’t you send for him?”

“Let him come to me,” said the man and pursed his lips. “There is something strange going on for a fellow like that to just show up in Black Dale. We’ll have the First Rider breathing down our necks soon enough and that sanctimonious Coppercoin never liked me, not since we took the challenge together that one year.”

“He’s always been nice to me, dad,” said the boy as his face broke into a small smile.

“That’s because he knows it will make me angry, Mikus,” said the man. “Mark my words, son, mark my words. That stranger brings trouble to Elakargul and trouble to me. The faster we can get rid of him the faster we get back to our way of life.”

Just then the outer door of the chamber opened and a plain looking woman with dark eyes peeked her head inside. “Sir Thorius, there is a young man here to see you.”

“Thank you, Servellia, you can show him in,” said the older man and then made a motion with his hand to Mikus. “Sit down there and pay close attention to everything he says. I want to make sure I remember every word in case we can use it against him later.”

“But, dad,” started Mikus but was cut off from further discussion by a hard glance from his father.

A moment later Jon Gray strode into the room, a huge smile on his face and he nodded his head to the man behind the desk. “I’m Jon Gray from Tanelorn, my father is the Gray Lord and I’m here to discuss a matter of great importance to both our nations!”

Thorius looked at him coldly and shook his head sadly, “I have never heard of this Tanelorn or this Gray Lord of yours, how can I be expected to treat you as an ambassador if I do not even know the nation you represent?”

“I have papers,” said Jon, taking a step back, and rummaging around inside his gray jerkin.

“What on earth could papers mean to me?” said Thorius, “If I have never heard of this Tantalorn? You could have written anything about anyone. How would I know the difference? I’m sorry young man, you have come a long way for no reason. I offer you the hospitality of Black Dale for as long you would like, but that is all that I can give.”

“But,” said Jon, his smile fading for the first time, “you don’t understand, Sir Thorius.”

“I understand all too well young man,” replied the knight with a slight smile on his face and again a sad little shake of his head. “You hoped to create some sort of stir, bilk some money, or run some sort of a scam on the people of my little town. Well, it won’t work, not while I’m on watch. So, you might as well take your little confidence game somewhere outside of Elekargul. We are not a nation of people to be fooled easily.”

“But,” said Jon opening his hands to face up and spreading his arms.

“No buts,” interrupted Sir Thorius. “If you don’t leave my office immediately I’ll send for some knights. You can stay in town for a few days but if I hear word you are trying to spread any of this Tantalorn nonsense then I’ll have to do something about it. Do I make myself clear?”

“I… yes. I understand,” said Jon and stood to his full height. A look of calm replaced the anger that had threatened to burst through. “Thank you for your time today.” With that the tall young man turned and strode out of the room, his fury only barely in check. Once out into the street he managed to stifle the scream that rose in his throat but his fists clenched at his side and his jaw was tight. “Damn that bastard,” he said to himself and stood there for a long moment as walkers by stopped to gawk at the stranger for a moment before they continued on their way. It took him a little while to remember that the mason supposedly knew the First Rider but in his anger he couldn’t remember exactly where he was supposed to go. “And damn if I’ll ask any of these miserable people,” he muttered to himself.

It took him half an hour as he wandered around the small village and stewed noticing almost nothing about town before he found himself in front of the building that seemed to fit the bill. There was a placard out front which Jon couldn’t read completely but the squat stone structure and the large number of half cut and uncut stones that lay in the yard served to make it clear what kind of place it was. Jon walked around to the back and spotted an immensely fat man with a chisel in one hand and a hammer in the other at work on what was clearly a statue of an orc with a long spear. Jon moved closer and was surprised at the detail of the work even in this half-finished condition. The man who worked on it sweated profusely and, when he pulled a rag from his back pocket to mop up the overflow, noted Jon for the first time.

“Ho there, stranger,” he said with a jolly laugh. “You’re a tall one but not as big around as old Odellius Buffalorider!” he said and patted his immense stomach. While the man was quite fat he was also tremendously broad with thick shoulders far wider than Jon’s own and the muscles beneath the layers of fat in his arms were pronounced and clearly powerful.

“Pleased to meet you Odellius,” said Jon. “My name is Jon and the brewer suggested I might come talk to you.”

“Hang on now a minute there, sonny,” said the giant man and wiped more of the sweat from his brow. “Let’s take a canter over to the well and get some fluids in me. I’m leaking like a two bit orc whore who sees a rich old client.”

Jon shook his head for a moment, not sure he heard correctly, and then laughed out loud. “Anybody ever mention that you have a way with words?” he asked as he walked with the man over to the well. The mason cranked the lever with power and a gusher of water soon emerged with which he filled with a big tin cup and poured over his head. The big man repeated this process two more times and then drank two full tins with huge gulps.

“Ahh, that hits the spot. Now, where did you say you were from my little friend?”

“Tanelorn, have you heard of it?”

“The gray lands!” said Odellius. “Of course I’ve heard of it. You’re a free people just like us. No slaves, no master, each man to make his own way. There’s Caparal on the Western Ocean too but not many other free people in the world. I’ve heard tell of the Gray Lord even this far south and I’ve been to Doria and met with captains of trading vessels who tell tall tales. I know about the sea king of Cawl as well. You’re a long way from home lad.”

Jon shook his head in astonishment, “That’s all exactly right Odellius. The mayor said he’d never heard of Tanelorn, that I should get out of town.”

“Ah, yes, he’s an old Brokenhand he is,” said Odellius. “You best lay a bit low,” he continued and then looked over the seven foot tall boy and smiled with a shake of his head. “Yes, well, you won’t much be able to manage that any better than I then, will you?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Jon.

“Well, no matter, just try to stay out of trouble and the old guard can’t do much to you. We’re a free people here in Elekargul, freeriders some call us,” said the big man and offered up another cup full of water to Jon who took it, drank half and poured the rest over his head. “So, what do you think of Brutus there?”

It took the young gray knight a moment to realize the older man spoke of the sculpture in the yard, but once it sunk in, he smiled, “I like it,” said Jon with a smile. “The detail work is very nice; you must have been sculpting for many years to be so skilled?”