This is a rewrite of Turn 6, Turn 7 and Turn 8.
Sahlman heard the whistle. He looked up to the top of the large tree, and then at the townsman. Muttering, he quickly removed his kheffiya and desert robe, and stuffed them into his shoulder bag. His appearance would still be notable, but definitely not so much as it had been.
“I suppose you know why I picked you,” the townsman said. Sahlman nodded. “Because I heard you describe your plan, and it was the best plan that could have been thought up. You should be leading this group. You have a mind for strategy, and an understanding of people. Why should a rank of priestess make a leader out of an eighteen year old girl?”
Sahlman was thoughtful for a moment, but did not answer. “You are needing help up?”
After boosting the townsman to the lowest branch, Sahl followed, his facility at tree climbing not at all bad for a desert dweller. At the top, the two lay low, looking out for anyone who might observe their descent, and then Sahl led the way down. Near the bottom, he dropped and spun around, instantly assuming a defensive stance and examining his surroundings. The townsman followed soon thereafter, making far too much noise, although he tried to be quiet. Stealth was not something that was taught to public officials.
“Now, we go where?” asked Sahl in a low voice.
The burgher pulled his hood over his head, and pointed. Most of Grenzig sat on a high hill, with places of worship and commerce concentrated in the center. The hill sloped steeply up to that point, and more gradually down to the other side of town. Only a few buildings on the other side were tall enough to be seen, and it was to one of these that the townsman pointed. “Do you see that gray spire in the distance, on top of the domed roof? That is the public meeting house.” He shaded his eyes and looked up at the sun. “We must make haste.”
As the two men started off, taking a dangerously direct route to avoid losing time, Sahl spotted Ardith out of the corner of his eye, standing behind a building, getting ready to follow him when he was far enough away not to notice her. She had stuck with her own plan after all. 'This is why she is the leader,' Sahlman thought. 'She cares about her people, even if she has just met them. I would have thought “this is our strategy. Here are our strengths and weaknesses. This is how our enemy thinks, and what we can expect of him. This is the most efficient way to do what must be done.” Ardith would have thought, “this is where we are. This is where we want to be. This is how my people think, and what they are willing to do. This is the best way to keep them alive.” She would not survive in the desert, but perhaps here, she can thrive.'
Sahlman kept his eyes open, and continued to be aware of everything around him. Ardith followed at a discreet distance. Members of the town guard passed them with a nerve-wracking regularity. If this had not been a market day, a man of Sahl's complexion would have been immediately suspicious. As it was, he only received piercing but brief looks from the soldiers. It was perhaps his own strange appearance that kept eyes off the townsman. Once Sahl figured that out, he walked casually, drawing attention to himself through his own calmness and keeping his head straight and high before the guardsmen while the townsman averted his eyes, feigning interest in a gnarled tree, or a merchant's cart.
This town was not nearly large enough for the size of the town guard. A great debt must be building up, and Sahlman wondered how the people were taking the additional tolls, fees and taxes. It was no wonder they feared an uprising.
It would have been far wiser to walk along the edges of the town, coming upon the spired building from the rear or from an alley, but fortunately, no one bothered them. It took half an hour to cross the town near its middle, and come within sight of the building.
The building was raised by a stone foundation, and six steps led to its door. Expensive smoked glass windows were spaced about the first floor, ten feet off the ground. A second floor had a large number of open shutters instead, possibly a sign that the builders had run out of money, and could not afford expensive imported glass. The roof, not perfectly domed, had five sides, all sloping downward sharply enough that no one would have to sweep off the snow in the winter. To Sahlman, such a design seemed wasteful, but he had never seen a winter storm in the north.
Four guards stood at the entrance to the meeting-house, three armed with swords and one with a crossbow. The point of the crossbow followed a distant bird, moving slowly to the left, then curving upward. The other three guards were more attentive to their duties, but all looked tired and bored.
The townsman cursed under his breath. “They're waiting for me. I must be allowed to enter or this venture will be for nothing.” Although he spoke in anxious tones, to any observer, he appeared merely to be studying a small gray pebble that lay by his foot.
The son of Hakariim let his gaze follow that of the townsman, noticing the inconspicuous pebble nestled near the other man's foot. Sahlman's mind was in turmoil. There seemed to be no way to get this man into the building, yet that was apparently the only acceptable outcome for the drama currently taking place. A drama the details of which, much to Sahl's chagrin, were almost all unknown.
The pebble…
Suddenly, without explanation, Sahlman ducked out of the way between two buildings, taking a surprised employer with him. He clapped his hand over the other's mouth to prevent an outraged exclamation, giving the finger-to-lips signal universal for silence before releasing him.
“We must … switch clothing…. You are veiling yourself, in the way of my people in the desert… This is to gain you entry into the building,” Sahlman hurriedly whispered to the other. “If you looking … odd … enough, perhaps the guards are looking at the garments, ignoring the man beneath them?”
Sahl hurriedly pulled his desert robes and kheffiya from the bag at his side, handing them to the townsman. He also produced a spare linen tunic and pair of trousers. “It's as good an idea as any,” said the townsman, while he removed his vest and guild colors, and replaced them with Sahlman's time-grayed robes. The townsman was not as well-muscled as his companion, so the clothes were a bit baggy, but no one in this town was likely to know what to expect from a citizen of Tchu'dan.
Each man dressed in the manner of the other, they walked purposefully towards the building. As they expected, they were stopped at the entrance, but only briefly. The guards looked them up and down, paying attention to the clothing of one, and the face of the other. Sahlman's plan worked, and with surprisingly little delay, and without a word spoken, they were allowed to enter.
“Something is not right here,” whispered the burgher as they passed through the wide entrance hall. Another guard, well-armed with crossbow, sword and long darts in a pocket sewn to the hardened hide he wore as armor, guarded the door to the central meeting chamber. To the side were additional doors that led up to the balcony sections. When the townsmen headed towards one of them, the guard drew his sword and used it to block the way, then pointed to the main door.
Resigning themselves to the situation, Sahlman and the townsman entered the chamber, only to be grabbed from inside and hurled towards the center of the room. Their assailants were three additional guards, armed similarly to the one in the entrance hall. The round room was entirely circled by members of the town guard, in a pattern of swordsman, crossbowman and spearman.
The room was crowded beyond belief. Keeping their distance from the walls were hundreds of people of all professions and all social classes. They stood in a way that resembled a bucket of water and sand interspersed with larger stones. Three townsmen in the full pomp of their offices stood in various locations, those of lower standing respectfully flowing around them. Scores of journeymen and lesser masters spoke to one another, some armed with the daggers that their positions granted them, some with their most valuable tools that they refused to leave behind, and some empty-handed. Surrounding all of these were tributaries of poor laborers, forming winding rows and short-lived clusters, as they sought to avoid touching anyone of higher social standing than they. It was as if an entire town had been compressed into a single room, all the forms, sounds and smells concentrated until there was hardly space to breathe.
The room was enormous, a hundred feet across, with a ceiling forty feet high at its peak. In the center of the room was a powerful column, six feet wide, which provided most of the strength that kept the roof from collapsing in. The column rose out of a raised platform, ten feet from end to end, which was no doubt used by speakers, performers, or whoever else had the right to hold events in this building. The balconies, currently empty except for six crossbowmen, extended ten feet into the room. They were held up by smaller pillars, which also rose past the balconies to support the roof. The room had two exits, both of which were well-guarded.
His voice almost inaudible through the noise of the crowd, the townsman spoke to Sahlman. “These guards are not supposed to be here. Whoever has anticipated my arrival will indict all these people once they discover that I'm here, and that will happen as soon as anyone looks at me hard enough to recognize me from memory or description. Even these, my allies, might give me away.
“You have a mind for military strategy that I lack. I must be able to address these people, preferably without endangering their lives. We either must clear the room of soldiers, or escape and clear the room of everyone else.”
Ardith followed Sahlman and the townsman. No one bothered her or tried to look after her business; the Sign of Andritha that hung from her neck afforded her that much respect. The two men walked nearly in a straight line towards the large meeting house near the top of the hill. Once they entered, Ardith decided she had done what she could. Sahlman had made it safely to his destination, and would carry out the rest of his task alone. Ardith could not risk bringing attention to him by following him in.
Staring at the building from a distance, Ardith set herself another task. What would happen once the townsman accomplished his goals? Would they just accept their pay and leave like common mercenaries? What if his goals were unjust? By the time Sahlman emerged, she wanted to know whether they had done right. There was one place where she could be sure of answers: the Temple of Andritha.
Grenzig was a strange place. At the fringes of the kingdom, and recently as a free town, Grenzig had rejected Andrithan missionaries. Although, like the rest of Rang, it was largely Andrithan, a level of tolerance had arisen that made a myriad of virtually unknown religions feel welcome. The town was littered with small temples, some no more than an enclosed space in a resident's basement, devoted to various gods or spirits or objects or people. The temple Ardith picked, which was the largest in the town, had the symbols of religions Ardith did not even recognize etched along the edges of the doorway. The four symbols of Andritha, of course, were displayed prominently above it.
Ardith approached the door, and knocked. Hearing no answer, she knocked with more force. Still, no one came to the door. Frustrated, Ardith began a tour around the Temple, looking for an alternate entrance, or some clue as to where the Clerical Residence might be. It was imperative that she find the priests, as they might be the only source of impartial information, information which could determine whether she and her new friends had brought good or evil into the world.
After some time of searching and inquiry of local passers-by, Ardith found the Residence. It was several hundred yards from the temple, not right next to it as she expected. The door was unlocked, so Ardith walked into the small entrance room, sat down in a chair, and waited. Her opening of the door would be enough to alert them of her presence; it was considered impolite to knock on the inner door of a Residence.
Soon, a young acolyte opened the door and took her into a common room, which served as kitchen, dining room, study area for new clerics, and meeting place. A dozen clerics and priests of varying seniority sat around a large table. Unlike some towns where a single attribute of Andritha dominated the clergy, here there seemed to be priests of all types. The oldest and highest ranking in the room was a priest of the Lover, but Ardith saw symbols of the Fighter, Healer and Mother as well, worn on necklaces, hats and armbands.
The most senior priest in the room nodded to the most senior priest of the Mother, granting him the honor of greeting one of his own. “Welcome, priestess. We are always happy to have guests from other towns, even in times like these. From where do you come, and what brings you to Grenzig?”
“I studied in Zadothar,” she began. Several eyebrows raised at the name, either because of the distance she had traveled, or because Zilgard, one of the most respected members of the Ecclesiarchy in Darmstadt, was from Zadothar, and a priestess from Zadothar was being considered for yet another position in the Ecclesiarchy. “And I come to Grenzig on a mission that is no doubt related to the hard times you mention.”
“Then you are aware of the Exemption of Congregation?”
“I don't believe so.”
The priest frowned. “All people of Grenzig, even the priests, have been barred from their temples since last week. It should not be in the town's power to do so, but townsmen came to us with an obscure passage from the Free Charter of 926, which gives the temporal rulers power over the spiritual when the safety of the town is threatened.”
“That is sad news indeed.”
“Yes. The Ecclesiarchy will not take this lightly.”
“In what way is the town's safety threatened?” Ardith asked, although she had a notion of what the answer might be.
“A foreign townsman has been active in the south, increasing his power by bringing small towns under his control. The leaders of Grenzig fear he has aims against their town.”
“From what I see here, I do not know if he could make things worse.”
“Any conqueror can make things worse. It is the nature of conquerors. Many people of Grenzig, perhaps even a majority, expect him and eagerly anticipate his arrival, but the majority is not always right.”
Another priest lifted a finger and seemed about to speak, but the priest of the Mother continued. “Yes, even some of the priests support the new townsman, without even knowing his nature.”
“I believe I know this townsman.” That created a stir in the room. “For the past four days, my companions and I have been traveling with a man who will only allow us to call him 'townsman;' I do not know his name. But since he hired us in Dmerzig to protect him –”
A priest of the Lover interrupted, “a priestess hiring herself as a mercenary?”
An elderly priest quoted, ”'Those who fight in Her name bring holiness to themselves.'” Ardith was not surprised to see that he was a priest of the Fighter.
“Continue,” said the senior priest of the Mother.
“Since he hired us to protect him, he has been overly anxious to get to Grenzig, even after he suffered an injury to his leg. He has allowed us no insight into his person, nor have I been able to learn anything from observation. On the road, however, we were attacked by bandits. When we arrived at Grenzig, we saw these same bandits guarding the gates in official uniform. This alone is what has kept me from abandoning him.”
“Then none of us knows anything, except that the current leadership of Grenzig is not to be trusted, which is something we have long known to be true.”
The others nodded their heads and murmured their agreement.
“Night approaches, priestess. Please stay with us for our evening meal.”
Ardith nearly refused the invitation, but that would have been an insult to the elder priests present, and she had not been priestess so long that she could afford to insult her elders. Sahlman was an able warrior. He could take care of himself for a short while longer.
As they finished their meal, there was a knock at the door. A scowl appeared on the faces of a few priests, and the youngest acolyte was instructed to wait a while, then open the door. When he did, Kay burst through and immediately focused on her friend. “Ardith, I've been looking everywhere for you. Everything went wrong. Ziedon was arrested, and soldiers are out looking for Brinn and me. Brinn is hiding at the bathhouse. When the guards come to bathe, they'll see him, and – Oh, excuse me,” she said, noticing the strange looks she was receiving from so many priests.
Ardith stood. “Pardon me,” she said to the priests. “It appears I am needed elsewhere.”
“To help a criminal?” said a cleric barely older than Ardith.
“No doubt arrested without cause, but I will investigate, and I will not interfere with justice if it indeed be just. Thank you all for your hospitality, and for making clear what has long been a mystery to me.”
The priests nodded in a departing gesture, and Ardith and Kay left. As the women hurried to the bathhouse, Kay explained in detail what had happened. “I don't trust this town,” Ardith said when she was done. “Its leaders or its soldiers.”
When they arrived, Brinn was standing in an open area, in clear view. He stood ready to fight or run, whichever was necessary. His bravery yet again affirmed, he stood still while half a dozen soldiers approached him from one side, and three from the other. He had been seen.
Fortunately, Ardith and Kay had not. Sizing up the situation, Ardith said urgently to Kay, “Help me make a distraction for the guards! Trust me!” Ardith shouted what she hoped would sound like a battle cry, but her voice was too high-pitched to be effective. Still, the sudden scream of a woman is enough to distract any man.
With Kay behind her drawing an arrow, Ardith ran toward the guards and Brinn. Halfway there, Kay's overtook her and shot between two of the guards. Good, Kay, she thought. It won't help to kill them, so frightening them is our best defense. Seeing the madwoman rushing towards them, and an archer in the distance, the guards hesitated, deciding whether to chase after Brinn, or defend against this new threat. Taking advantage of their distraction, Ardith shouted “Brinn! Run!”
It took only a moment for Brinn to realize what was happening, and he ran as fast as he could. Two of the guards made up their minds to chase after him.
Ignoring Brinn's pursuers for the moment, Ardith held the pendant from her necklace in front of her and prayed to Andritha for assistance. She was not certain whether the power came directly from Andritha, or from herself as a grant from the goddess, but the prayer helped to focus her mind on the forms she wished to create.
At first there was only a soft noise, then the ground seemed to tremble just a bit. Suddenly, the earth came alive. Blades of grass shot up until the guards who had not run stood in a thigh-deep field. Vines wound up out of the earth, wrapping around their feet and ankles. Soon, they were hopelessly entangled in the fastest growing, thickest web of vines, thorn-bushes, stinging nettles and thistles they had ever encountered.
“What in the name of the gods?” cried one guard.
Another tried to move and tripped over his own ensnared feet, landing on top of a fast-growing clump of nettles. His weapon clattered away under a suddenly flowering rose. In his efforts to free his legs, he only managed to entangle his arms as well.
Another guard drew his sword and hacked at the vine which had grabbed his ankles, but now was growing up his legs at an alarming rate. One vine tendril snaked around the hilt of the weapon, and the force of the guard's blow was deflected, the weapon wrested from his hand.
The first guard, who, after his initial shout had stood frozen in place, slowly sank to his knees, muttering supplications to gods he had not worshipped – indeed had not even thought about in years. His reward was that a rose bush grew up underneath him, wrapping its thorn- riddled vines tightly around his buttocks. His cries of pain followed shortly.
Just as he was about to turn a corner and leave the area, Brinn tripped over a rapidly thickening root. The two pursuing guards tripped over Brinn and landed in a region of grass and thistles that was now waist-deep. As Brinn recovered, the grass grew up around him, giving him cover as he escaped. The growth stopped before it could do more than offer cover.
The three guards who had approached from the left were not so foolish as to walk into the wild scene before them. Their wisdom was so great, in fact, that they recognized the time had come to sheathe their swords and run away as fast as their legs could carry them.
They soon had more from which to flee. A mob appeared in the distance, dispersing through the town at a run. Several dozen young men and women spotted the guards who were finally escaping from the foliage, ran up to them, and beat them senseless.
The windows had darkened and torches had been lit. The people who nearly pressed up against each other to fill the room were becoming anxious, eager to see what would happen next, or eager to finish it and have their supper. As their restlessness increased, the space decreased, and they danced against each other like a pack of hungry dogs, ready to snap at any provocation.
“Wait,” Sahlman had said, and the townsman waited.
Sahlman was as discouraged as he had been since he left Tchu'dan. It was bad enough to be alone in a strange and hostile land. Worse yet to be right in the middle of a political coup. But worst of all was the feeling of responsibility the swarthy man felt for his companions, and even for his enigmatic employer who would conquer an entire town, that prevented him from doing what a wiser man would do: just walk out.
He politely excused himself and went over to squat at the edge of the crowd and think. He nibbled on a ration of preserved meat, while surveying the circular room more closely and evaluating the people in it. There were, indeed, a goodly number of guards present, or what passed for guards in this place. Not such a large number, though, when one took into account the quantity of others that had been herded into the room.
Well, the townsman had suggested two options: getting rid of the guards was the first, and escaping from the room the second. Sahl rolled that over for a bit, deciding that, if it was a chance to talk to the townspeople that this burgher wanted, escape from the room would seem to be a mistake. Indeed, it seemed that at least a goodly portion of the town's population who were sympathetic to the townsman and his plans were in that very room.
So, then, the other option had to be effected, but how?
Perhaps it was because Sahl was both mentally and physically tired, or perhaps just because there was no other way to accomplish this seemingly impossible goal, but only one idea came to mind for removing the guards from the room.
Sahlman faced east and muttered something in his native tongue, a prayer to his gods. If things were to turn ugly this day, Sahl could be making a very premature visit to the houris.
He then moved to his employer's side, and in a low voice said, “Be ready, sirrah. If you are having a chance, it comes in only a moment.” Sahl went to the side of the room opposite where he and the townsman had entered, took a deep breath, and ran full tilt at the door, yelling, “Ahhh, I am not being able to breathe! Help! Help!” He jostled as many people along the way as possible.
Chaos ensued, so that it was not completely clear to anyone what happened for the next ten minutes. Sahlman barely made it to the door, as people hurried out of his way, colliding with their neighbors. So crowded was the room that Sahl could only assume the increasing noise behind him meant that such collisions were occurring all over the room. Like a bushel half full of flour, a single spark had set the entire thing ablast.
Two soldiers guarded the door, and both drew their swords. Out of the corner of his eye, Sahl saw a pair of crossbowman targeting him, but they were unable to pick him out from the crowd. Sahlman drew his scimitar to defend himself. Soon, though, it became unnecessary. The crowd had reached such an active state that they could no longer avoid bumping into the soldiers.
One soldier near Sahlman, desperate in his attempt to keep order, jabbed out his sword seemingly at random. A cry of pain followed, and there was one less commoner to rush about. Sahlman looked around him, and he saw that numerous soldiers had taken the same approach.
This threw the crowd into a fury. Soon, no man in military uniform was safe. Risking their lives to do so, hordes of commoners and journeymen rushed at the guards, ignoring any loss of their own numbers to force them to the floor. In their uncontested rage, they even trampled their own to get to the walls. Anyone who was not strong enough or fast enough had to do whatever he could to stay upright. Sahlman left the fighting to the crowd. One more, even with a scimitar, could not help much. Besides, he was not yet certain whether he would be fighting for the right side.
This was a full-fledged battle, one side almost totally unarmed, but overwhelming the other by sheer numbers.
A worrisome thought came to Sahlman's mind. He looked up to the balconies, and saw that crossbowmen were firing into the crowd. Soon, though, the crowd swelled out the doors and came up behind them. Two were knocked over the railing, and fell down into the mob. The other four were subdued or killed, Sahlman could not tell which.
Soon every soldier was dead, unconscious, bound, or had escaped. A great cheer erupted in the room. Sahlman looked for the townsman, and saw him, on the central platform, climbing on top of a large man's shoulders. He leaned on the great pillar with one arm, and waved in the air with the other. “You see?” he yelled. The crowd quieted only slightly, but his voice carried far. Perhaps the room had been constructed with just that purpose in mind. “You see? You see how the powers of this town abuse you? They would kill you simply for pleasure if they didn't fear your response! But they do fear you! Look how they run! I have come to free this town from oppression. Grenzig shall no longer be ruled by thieves and brigands! Follow me, and we will take this town by storm!”
At that, the mob rushed from the building, squeezing out through the two doors, expanding as it left until it took up far more space than was available in the meeting house. Sahlman tried to follow the townsman, but there were too many people in the way. By the time he made it outside, the townsman was only a speck in the distance, still riding on the man's shoulders, still riling the crowd as they pounced on every soldier in sight.
Sahlman broke off from the crowd and watched it move from a safe distance. There had been much death this day, but had it been for the good?
This is as far as the revisions go. Following is the end of Turn 8, which was not included in this chapter
The five travelers stood together, in the large room, alone with the burgher. The entire town was celebrating its victory, and anyone who had preferred the old rulers remained indoors.
“Thank you,” spoke the burgher. “You have aided me in capturing Grenzig. I apologize for my short, useless answers in the last several days. I could not risk news of my arrival reaching Grenzig before I did. My name is Balban. I have ruled Dmerzig and several other towns without revealing my name, but, now that I have conquered Grenzig, I can make my presence known. Grenzig completes the circle of five towns that I required to begin my conquest. Now that I have it, I can continue my efforts, and unite the towns of Rang.
“You have helped me immensely, and I will be happy to reward you for your efforts, and for saving my life. I can spare an amount of two thousand gold coins. Or perhaps you would prefer that I ask my friend or clerics to teach your magic users a spell or two. Maybe you would rather an aide. Some of the guards of this town were sympathetic to my cause, and would travel with you if I requested their service. Perhaps you would appreciate beutiful women to travel with you as wives to mother your children, or the women among you may like a husband of high standing, so they will not be required to act as escorts. Decide what you wish. If you have questions about anything that has been unclear to you in the past days, ask them.”
The story continues with Turn 9
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