used to wearing armor almost since the day he was born, that is a very serious concession indeed.
Fortunately, over the last few days the heat had abated a little, but it was still hot enough to make me worry about my brains boiling in my skull. So it was sheer bliss for our group to stand beside the fountain, where the air was so cool, fresh, and clean.
“No halt here!” Alistan announced without even glancing at the marvelous sight.
So much for our rest. When I thought about the long journey under the summer sun waiting for us after Ranneng, I felt really bad. In the name of a h’san’kor, what was wrong with the weather this year?
“What’s wrong with you today?” an indignant voice asked right in my ear. “Here I am fluttering about like a lark in front of a cockerel to get your attention, and you might as well be deaf!”
“And did you say anything interesting, chatterbox?” I asked.
“Chatterbox!” the jester snorted. “I wasn’t simply talking talking, I was extolling the beauties of this glorious city.”
“I don’t see much beauty around here at the moment,” I muttered, looking round the street.
It was just an ordinary street. Little old two-story houses with battered, peeling walls, although I had to give the locals some credit—not all the buildings looked totally decrepit. But I definitely couldn’t see much beauty. If I hadn’t known I was in Ranneng, I would have thought this was the Outer City of Avendoom.
“Wait a bit, we’ll get to the park in a moment; the trees there are just like those in the Zagrabian forest!”
“Have you been here before, then, Kli-Kli?” asked Lamplighter, who had ridden up to us on his roan horse Stubborn.
Loudmouth’s horse was trudging after Stubborn, flicking her ears in protest at being dragged in such a perfunctory manner.
“Yes, I was here once,” Kli-Kli mused, smacking his lips. “I was on a mission for the king.”
Hallas almost choked in surprise. Forgetting all about his sick tooth, he stared at Kli-Kli and said: “Don’t go telling me fairy tales, goblin. I’ll never believe the king could trust you with important business.”
“Baa!” said Kli-Kli, sticking his tongue out at the gnome.
“Never mind, tell us your silly story anyway, it’ll ease the boredom. Are we never going to get to this inn?” Marmot said.
“Why, there’s no distance left at all. We just go through the park into the Upper City, where the university is, and the school of magic and all the rest of it. A fine district it is. We’ve haven’t got far to go now.”
The goblin was simply playing the clown and waiting to be asked again.
“Come on, get on with it,” said Lamplighter.
“Just let me think where to start,” Kli-Kli agreed graciously, and put on an important air, as if he really was thinking.
“Harold, hold Invincible for me while I take my jacket off,” said Marmot.
“All right,” I agreed, and Marmot tossed his ling across, onto my shoulder.
Marmot’s shaggy tame rat Invincible took a sniff, grunted, wheezed, and settled down on my shoulder. It was incredible, but apart from Marmot I was the only one in the entire party that the ling didn’t bite; he even allowed me to stroke him when he was in a generous mood.
I couldn’t fathom just why the long-haired rodent from the Deserted Lands took such a great liking to me. But when I saw the way the rat howled and tried to bite Kli-Kli’s finger every time he reached his hand out to it, I chuckled merrily, which greatly annoyed the goblin.
“You promised us a story, Kli-Kli,” I reminded him.
“Ah, so I did! Right, then: A year ago the Oburs and the Wild Boars decided to conclude an alliance and give the Nightingales a bloody night of it. There was a fine old brawl all set to break out in Ranneng, and that was not in Stalkon’s interests. They would have started with the Nightingales and finished with His Majesty. And so I was sent.”
“And our truly fearless little friend defeated them all!” Deler chortled.
“You dwarves don’t have even a spark of imagination,” Kli-Kli snorted. “I was sent here to make the Wild Boars fall out with the Oburs and vice versa, to make sure that those noble gangsters never thought about concluding an alliance again.… And that’s just what I did!” There was a distinct note of pride in the goblin’s voice.
“And how did you pull that off?” I chuckled, handing the ling back to Marmot.
“I used the same plan as you did in that business with the Horse of Shadows. Set everyone against everyone else.”
“Set everyone against everyone else? What’s he talking about, Harold?” asked Lamplighter, puzzled.
“Don’t bother your head about it, Mumr,” I said: I didn’t want to get into that story just then. “And how did the Oburs and Wild Boars take to your plan, Kli-Kli?”
“You know, Harold, it’s strange, but they really didn’t like my plan at all!” The jester giggled. “Especially the Oburs! Those noble gentlemen were so upset when they heard that one of the Wild Boar counts was marrying his daughter to a Nightingale that without thinking twice they set up a really lively betrothal party for the Wild Boars. And the Wild Boars gave tit for tat by slitting the throats of a couple of Oburs. The mayhem that broke out in the city then ended any more talk about an alliance. The nobles of the south carried on squabbling among themselves, and my king had no need to feel concerned for the safety of his throne. The threat of rebellion and civil war was postponed indefinitely, and the whole kingdom came to thank the jester for the peace and tranquillity of Valiostr.”
“Well, isn’t our fool a fine lad after all!” Arnkh chuckled, jangling his chain mail.
The nobles of the south are like a fishbone stuck in the king’s throat. Painful to swallow, and if you try to spit it out, you’re likely to make things worse. Because if their lordships aren’t watched carefully, they might turn around and strike a deal with the western provinces, and that would be the end of the throne. As soon as the squabbling and intriguing comes to an end, the nobles—and especially the nobles who have formed an alliance—will start looking for something else to do with their armed men.
During the time of our present king’s father there was an unpleasant incident when the western nobles decided to overthrow the dynasty. They were annoyed, you see, because the king didn’t want to give away the Disputed Lands to Miranueh. Fortunately, that time the rebels got nowhere. The royal guards surprised them by turning up when they weren’t expected. And the nobles of the south failed to support the revolt of their neighbors to the west: the Wild Boars, Nightingales, and Oburs were too busy with each other to take notice of any appeals to take part in a conspiracy.
We were riding through the park, with its giant oaks. I could hardly believe that trees that size grew inside the city limits. There weren’t any big trees in Avendoom, even in the grounds of the royal palace, not to mention the other districts of the city. With the cold weather that the winds bring us from across the Cold Sea and the Deserted Lands, all the trees are taken for firewood the moment winter arrives. The folks from the Port City and the Suburbs would soon have reduced all these trees to nothing but stumps.
The road started rising uphill and we emerged from the park to find ourselves in the area of Ranneng immediately around the university and the school of the Order. The houses here were a bit newer and more handsome than the ones we had ridden past earlier. But even so, the streets were still swarming with people. More people than there were fleas on an unwashed dog, that’s for sure.
The inn, separated off from the street by a fence, was a large, respectable-looking establishment of three stories.
“Well, blow me!” Deler said with a whistle as he surveyed our temporary residence. “If the building’s that big, then the kitchen must be huge, too. And a huge kitchen is a sure sign of good food! What do you think, Hallas?”
The gnome merely cast a mournful glance at his partner and kept his mouth shut.
“You’re right there, Deler,” boomed the giant Honeycomb. “We’ve had enough of that lousy grub Uncle and Hallas dish up. Oh, I could just do with a suckling pig and horseradish!”
“And you shall have one, dear sir. You shall quite definitely have a suckling pig! And even two! I hardly think one would be enough to satisfy a mighty warrior like yourself!” replied a potbellied, red-cheeked little man who had appeared from out of nowhere. “Good day, Lady Miralissa. I’m glad to see you again in my most humble establishment.”
