Chapter Six "That Foul Smell"

     The river journey was nearing its end as the walls of Beltizar began to appear before them. Myllyof grew tired of the boat especially after Yvayn nearly ended up under it and decided to forgo Loctar and get off in Beltizar. The Mondo was getting wider as the ship approached the southern edge of the great lake. Lake Ozwanie expanded some forty to fifty leagues wide and was about two hundred leagues long. It sat along an ancient fault line that also served as the bed of the Mondo River through some of its course.

     The region around Ozwanie was once part of the ancient Semian Empire before the Wars with Raka. After the wars, the Semians migrated farther north, leaving the lands open for Menian expansion. Menians quickly settled the area, rebuilding some of the villages left by the Semians. The Great Quake changed the shoreline of Lake Ozwanie but not enough to keep fishermen away. The lake itself was full of fish, a welcome food source for the large appetites of the hardy Menians.

     The large lake was surrounded by rugged hills and much of the shoreline was marked with towering cliffs. The rest of the coastline was covered in large boulders and rocks. These supplied easy building material so many of the small towns and farms along the lake were built or lined with hard rocks.

     The largest town on the southern end of the lake was the ancient fortified city of Beltizar. Built as a fishing village by the Semians during their early occupation, Beltizar soon grew and was surrounded by peasant farms as well as wealthy landowners. It was located in an ideal place on the eastern shore, which was less rugged than the western shore. The city overlooked the Mondo River as it began to reform its shape and head further south. Many of the former leaders of Beltizar tried to tax ships passing by the city going either north or south. Because of this, Beltizar’s past was marred by violent periods of piracy and even a bloody civil war between ship owners and tax collectors.

     During the Wars with Raka, Beltizar stood firm against the attacking Ipsian army, led by Raka’s general Kradkon. While the rest of the area was burned and looted with children murdered and mothers raped, the people of Beltizar continued to hold the Ipsians back with strong counter attacks. The Semians knew the land better and had the advantage of hidden tunnels that they used to make sneak attacks on the marauding Ipsians. The archers of Beltizar rained arrows down on the Ipsians from the city’s stonewalls as other Semians, armed with lances attacked from the rear. Beltizar was the sight of the only stalemate of the entire war. Neither side could really claim victory, especially when so many perished on the grassy plain east of the city. Earthquakes that followed the Great Quake caused much of Beltizar to collapse into ruin and the Semians no longer felt safe living there.

     In the center of the old city, a large mound was built with a fortress on top of it. That fortress was the home of the clan elders of the Clan Balac. Two walls of stone surrounded the fort with gates leading out into the city. Beltizar was a harbor city with a protective mole leading well out into the lake. Ships had to go around the mole in order to sail down the Mondo.

     A tall wall of stone surrounded Beltizar and was built after Myrmidon became emperor. Towers guarded the walls at intervals. An inner wall enclosed the central fortress and also protected the main temple. A market ran along the main street from the docks all the way to the central plaza. The streets were paved in cobblestone laid out in spiral patterns that were pleasing to the passing traveler’s eye.

     The Silver Hawk, with its friendly flags high above blowing in the breeze, creaked along the wharfs of the city. A horn sounded from the battlement as several men walked along the shore following the ship. Erwaith ordered the sails down and called for the oarsmen to row the ship into dock. A great swirling sound rang out from the city’s walls as thousands of birds suddenly took flight. They circled and turned in various patterns before landing on the Silver Hawk’s masts.

    

     “It will be nice to set my feet on the solid ground again,” Myllyof said as he waited anxiously for the Silver Hawk to be tied off.

     “So, I see you still like land better?” Velsusi smiled.

     Yvayn and Termâs were leaning on the rail listening to the commotions in the port. They were by themselves near the front of the boat looking anxiously at the old port.

     “Have you been here before?” the prince asked, still looking over the railing.

     “No.”

     “Yvayn and Termâs!”

     “Yes?” they answered together.

     “Get your packs; we’re going ashore for a while.”

     “Yes, Father.” Yvayn went down to get his things.

     “Myllyof?”

     “Yes, Velsusi?”

     “I want us to eat at the Black Adder tonight.”

     “That sounds good.”

     “I think we should invite Erwaith along for the meal and let’s see if Bramêth wants to join us.” 

     “I’ll take care of the invitations.”

     The six men walked off the boat and were greeted by the harbor patrol on the dock.

     “State your business.” The matter-of-fact soldier stood in front of Myllyof.

     “We’re just dropping off some supplies and getting a night’s rest.”

     The soldier did not move but pointed to a sign that said: “Dock tax 50 quinig.”

     “Oh, I see.” Myllyof turned to the others with a smile. “So where does my tax money go?”

     The soldier looked a little nervous. His forehead began to sweat. “It…it goes…ugh…to…ugh…to my boss. Yeah, it goes to my boss.” He seemed a bit relieved.

     “Who is your boss?” Myllyof was quick to ask.

     “My boss?”

     “Yes, your boss.”

     The soldier looked very unsure of himself. “He’s…well…not here.”

     “Oh, well, where is he?”

     “He’s in the city.”

     “Where?”

     “I don’t know.”

     Myllyof was getting bored with the conversation. He opened up his cloak to reveal the royal emblem on his breastplate. The young soldier turned red and bowed very awkwardly.

     “Your majesty. You may pass…but please don’t let my boss know.”

     “How could I? I have no idea who he is.”

     “Oh…yes, of course.”

     They all passed, and the soldier remained bowed and even began to shake.

     “I need to speak with Bramêth about this little mess, Myllyof murmured.

     “It was obvious he was lying,” Jullious remarked.

     “What gave it away?” Termâs said sarcastically.

     “You aren’t much better in your manners, young man,” the old guard quickly snapped back.

     “Maybe he should have attended your school of insincere manners.”

     “Maybe you should. At least you wouldn’t be such a rude little weasel.”

     “Oh, do I detect some emotion in your voice?”

     “Okay…that is enough.” Myllyof held up his hand to the two puffed up roosters behind him. “Stop before I stop both of you.”

     They wandered into the busy streets of Beltizar and passed relatively unnoticed down the market avenue.

     “Where are we going?” Yvayn asked.

     “I’m taking you to one of the most famous places for eating real Menian food.”

     “What is that?”

     “The Black Adder.”

     “Oh…”

     “You’ve been spoiled by your mother’s lean Narcothian food.”

     “How’s that?”

     “Narcothian food has no personality. The Black Adder serves food to burn your stomach and soul.” Myllyof gave Yvayn a big grin and rubbed his stomach as well.

     “I think we should have some of that great cheese soup. What do you think, Myllyof?”

     “Oh, that sounds perfect, Velsusi.”

     “I will have the blood sausage.” Termâs licked his lips.

     “What?” Yvayn looked disgusted.

     “Blood sausage…it’s made with blood and meat.”

     Yvayn made a choking sound and turned away from his guard.

     “I’m going to have the broiled quail with rice and a side of boiled potatoes.” Jullious licked his lips. The others stopped and looked at him and shook their heads.

     “What else do they serve?” The young prince was beginning to worry. He looked at Velsusi for a serious answer.

     “Well…for one thing they make a great venison stew and venison smoked sausage.”

     “That sounds pretty good. Do they have any lamb or pork?”

     “Yes, but the pork is far better than their lamb.”

     “Oh…”

     Erwaith stepped up next to the prince. “I suggest the pork ribs with their special sauce.”

     “What is that like?”

     “Well, it’s a little spicy, but you will never have better ribs anywhere else.”

     “That sounds really good.”

     “It is, my young friend.”

     “I’m going to get Bramêth. Don’t eat without me. Velsusi quickly went down a narrow street toward a large plaza.

     The others continued walking up the market avenue into another open plaza. In the center was a large statue of what seemed to be a nobleman. Shops lined the plaza in a large circle with four roads leading out like spokes. A strong smell came from one of the buildings.

     “There it is, the Black Adder.” Myllyof pointed to a small door with a sign swinging above it. As they got closer, they could see a small staircase leading down to an unimpressive wooden door. Smoke rose from a chimney and was the source of the odor they had noticed.

     The five travelers stood by the stairs taking in whiffs of the hickory smoke as it rose from an old blackened chimney that stood up from the building like a gooseneck. Other smells entered into their noses of spices and other aromas that made their stomachs growl loudly. Myllyof tapped his fingers anxiously looking for Velsusi to emerge from one of the streets. He stopped fidgeting when he saw the old wizard approaching with a taller man at his side who had a wide grin on his face.

     “Let’s go in.” Velsusi seemed nervous or excited as he and Bramêth approached. He led the way down the stairs and then knocked on the door.

     “Greetings, Bramêth.”

     “And to you, Myllyof and Yvayn. I’m glad to see you too Jullious and Termâs. Now Erwaith…don’t you owe…”

     “Don’t even start that.”

     Bramêth gave a hardy laugh. He had broad shoulders that bounce as he laughed while his cheeks grew full and flushed. He had wind-baked skin all wrinkled around his dark eyes from squinting quite often in the sunlight that created large crow’s feet around both of his eyes. His hair was becoming gray and flowed down his leather shoulder plate. He was the leader of the Clan Balac of Ozwan and older than Myllyof by a dozen years or so. As the clan leader of the Clan Balac, he lived in the high fortress in the center of Beltizar.

     After a moment, a small window slid open and a greasy man looked out. His nose was shiny and his eyes dark.

     “What is the password?”

     They looked at each other. The older city native went forward and whispered through the window. The door swung open with a loud creak.

     “Welcome to the Black Adder.” The little man bowed and led them into a smoke-filled hall.

     “Thank you,” Myllyof whispered to Bramêth.

     “I forgot to tell you they started limiting their customers.” Erwaith smiled.

     “Will you tell me the password?” the emperor asked the clan leader.

     “Maybe later…if you still want it.”

     “Funny…”

     They were led through the hall past several tables and into a separate room in the back. The small man directed them to sit down at a round table. They sat and another man came in and began pouring them a dark stout.

     “What will be your pleasure?”

     Myllyof looked at his group of friends and family and pointed to Bramêth. “You are our guest for this meal. You order first then we will proceed to the right and so on.”

     “As you wish.”

     The man took their orders while another one brought out bread, butter, and cheese. Yvayn looked uncomfortable. It was apparent to the others that his nose was being offended. He tried his best to be polite, but when the cheese soup came to the table, he lost control.

     “I can’t stand that awful smell. What is it?”

     The whole table of men burst out laughing and laughed for quite a while. Finally, Termâs cleared his throat and pointed to the cheese and soup. “It’s the Black Adder’s specialty. A cheese that you must learn to get used to.”

     “I’m not sure that I can.”

     “Oh, come on, Yvayn. It isn’t all that bad.” His father tried to look serious but kept laughing.

     “So, Bramêth, do you have any news from the North?”

     The older clan leader thought a moment. “We’ve noticed a slight drop in travel coming from the North lately. I suppose there are some storms up in the pass keeping people from getting through the old tunnel.”

     “No other word then?”

     “Well…no, not really. This happens from time to time when the season changes. That pass is so unpredictable when it comes to the weather. I got caught in a snowstorm in early summer one time. We were well out of the tunnel, almost to Beras, when it hit. I thought I was going to freeze to death. I did lose s few men, but some Semians came along looking for travelers just like us and got us to Beras before we all died.”

     “That sounds awful,” Jullious, said as he sipped some soup and dipped some bread into it.

     “What is the earliest snowfall you know of?” Myllyof asked.

     The clan leader scratched at his beard and sipped some of the smelly soup. “I’ve heard of it snowing around this time of year, but it is rare. It takes a mighty storm even up there to freeze the air that fast and so soon.”

     “Well, that is good news…of sorts.”

     “What is wrong, my young friend?” Erwaith asked Yvayn as the prince sat with a long face and eyes watering.

     “It is…oh, never mind.”

     The young prince looked around for a place to sit and get away from the odiferous cheese. His watery eyes caught two figures sitting at a table in the corner. He squinted and thought he recognized one of them. He ignored the others as they teased him.

     “The old man…I know him from somewhere,” he mumbled to himself.

     “What’s that, Yvayn? Did you say something?” Myllyof asked.

     “Just try some.” Even Jullious found some humor in this.

     “Father?”

     “Yes, son?”

     “May I be excused? I just can’t eat with that foul smell.”

     Myllyof howled in laughter. “Oh, I suppose you can, but don’t go far.”

     “I won’t…I’ll just sit over there.” He pointed to the two strangers and got up. The others continued to laugh.

     Yvayn walked over to the table as if drawn to it. He stopped for a moment and looked at the old man. The old man did not look up and seemed to ignore the young prince.

     “Is this seat taken?” He pointed nervously to an empty chair. The old man turned and looked up. Yvayn knew then that it was the same man from Dymor; he recognized him from the inn. He sat down and adjusted his seat.

     “So, how is the son of Myllyof today?” The old man spoke in that same soft voice but still did not look up.

     “I’m fine.” Yvayn looked at the other person sitting at the table, but the person’s face was hidden behind a hood. He sat up but still could not see any better. He turned back to the old man. “So, do I get an introduction?”

     “In time, my young man…in time.”

     The food came and Myllyof directed Yvayn’s order to be taken to the other table. The prince ate but was still trying to figure out who was behind the hood. The mystery person did not eat or drink, only sat there quietly while the young prince ate. He thought the person was looking at him but every time he looked up, the person turned away.

     After he was done eating, Yvayn looked at the old man once again. The older man held up his hand and signaled to the other person. Yvayn turned to see two hands clasped on the table. Even though they were covered in a sheer silken material, Yvayn could tell they were of a woman. When he looked up, she was turned so he could see her, but he could not make out her face. She looked like she was wearing a veil of some kind, but not one like he had ever seen before. He became transfixed on this mysterious woman. Her hands and face appeared to be covered in the same veiling material. She was much smaller than he was and maybe not even a Menian. Her robe was a very dark green lined with a golden rope braid. The hood hung far over her face and only a bit of the candlelight could penetrate the deep shadow.

     “What is this?” he thought to himself. “Who are you?”

     Her silence was an invitation to his imagination. He began to think of his many dreams. He drank more mead and looked back at the other table. His father and the others were too busy drinking to notice her. The smell of the cheese was going away, but his eyes were still watery.

     The old man put his hand on Yvayn’s arm. The young prince looked at him with a sense of eagerness.

     “In time, Yvayn, you will have your answers.”

     “What do you call yourself, if I cannot know her name?”

     “Call me Old Bear.”

     “Old Bear…that is an interesting name.” He looked back at the woman or girl, he could not really tell which she was. “Tell me, how do you know me?”

     “There are many things I know, but I will only reveal what is important to you.”

     He turned back to Old Bear. His eyes were still glancing over to the mysterious hands on the table. Old Bear took the young prince’s hand and placed it on the mysterious female’s hand. She felt soft, almost like the essence of softness itself.

     “I want you to meet us tonight.”

     “How? I am with my father and a…well, a wizard.”

     “Do not worry about ‘how’. I will take care of that. Worry about ‘where’.”

     “Then, where?” He looked at the girl and his eyes wandered over her hands up to her face. The young girl, as he judged her to be, took her left hand and pushed up the green sleeve of her robe to her elbow. Yvayn could see her arm in the candlelight. It was also covered in white opaque material, but he could also see a mark on her right forearm. It seemed to be a birthmark of some kind. The veil continued under her cloak out of sight. She took his right hand and placed it on the mark. He began to feel very strange inside. He looked up at her hidden face and he could see her better. She had turned her face toward the light of the candle to look at him better. The white veil shimmered in the light and seemed to cover every part of her face. He began to wonder if he were dreaming once again.

     “Yvayn?”

     “Yes, Old Bear?” He shook his head a little, as is if snapping out of a trance.

     “Did you hear anything I just said?”

     He cleared his throat. “No, I didn’t.”

     “Listen very carefully.” Old Bear seemed a little irritated.

     “Yes, sir.”

     “You need to meet us at the Red Boar Inn just after dark. I will take care of the others, so you won’t be missed.”

     “How?”

     “Don’t ask so many questions.”

     “Yes, sir.” He felt like he was in a lesson with Velsusi.

     “I will signal you with two calls from my pipe. Then you must go to the Red Boar and I will let you in.”

     Yvayn stared at the young girl under the hooded robe. He could not quite see her eyes, but he could see her lips pressed up against the tight veil. She pulled her hood back slightly to reveal her neck. Yvayn swallowed hard seeing that her neck was covered in the white veil as well but with a dark band around the base of her neck.

     “Now cut that out.” Old Bear was looking at the girl. “We don’t want anyone to notice you.”

     The girl nodded her head to reveal her veiled hair. She pushed her sleeve back down and adjusted her hood so that it covered her face once again.

     “That’s better.”

     The young prince kept staring at her with his young mind now thinking of only one thing, her. His youth and lack of experience with young ladies took control over his senses now.

     “Yvayn, I want you to go back to your table now and rejoin your companions.”

     “Yes, sit.” He seemed to be back in a trance.

     “Go on now, but you must remember: after dark, then my signal, and then go to the Red Boar.”

     Yvayn nodded and got up to return to his table. He sat down without saying anything. Myllyof looked at his son who was trying to compose himself. “So, who are your new friends?”

     “Oh…just an old man and his granddaughter.”

     “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

     “Yes.” His nose began to pick up that foul smell again. “Can I have some of that cheese soup?”

     They all laughed and gave him some soup. He ate it and drank more of the thick brown Menian stout.

     “So, why the change of heart, young prince?” Velsusi’s speech sounded a little slurred.

     “I figure I should get used to this godforsaken cheese that you all love so much.” He laughed and drank deep and looked over toward Old Bear who had already left. After he ate and drank some more, Yvayn slammed his cup upside down on the table and looked at the others.

     “So where do we sleep tonight?” The young prince was getting loud now, and the others were giving him a very surprised look.

     “I know of a place not far from here,” Erwaith suggested.

     “Oh, what is that?” Myllyof asked, looking a bit tipsy himself.

     “It is a small inn called the Red Boar.”

     “That sounds wonderful. How far is it?”

     “It’s around the block and up two more streets. Why, do I need to carry you?”

     “No…no…I’m just a little tired. That’s all…I swear.” Myllyof began to drift off as he spoke.

     “It’s time to get him to a bed,” Jullious said.

     “You get his right arm and I’ll get his left.” Erwaith looked at Jullious. They picked up Myllyof to carry him out of the hall.

     “I’ll get his feet,” Bramêth added. “Why don’t you just take him to my place?”

     “Too far…” Erwaith said under his breath.

     “Good night…” Myllyof mumbled.

     “Horrid man…can’t hold his stout.” Velsusi swore.

     “Well, let’s get him out of here.” The old guard helped Erwaith and Bramêth carry the tipsy emperor out the door. Even the loud shawm player could not rouse the sleeping giant.

     “You’re right…it is too far with this dead weight. Who gave him all the extra drinks?”

     They all looked at each other and laughed.