The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Two





Julian Hobbes walked slowly in the night as he made his way to the entrance of the Green Pumpkin. An odd name for a pub, he thought. The place was notorious for hosting some of Marenon's most vile criminals. Julian hated being there. This wasn't the first time, either. Going to places like this was just another part of the mission. He knew the scum inside would sense that he was not their kind. He always tried to avoid the gazes that accompanied his arrival.

He had been there a week before and was only in a hurry to return now due to the nature of his mission. He had been sent to the Green Pumpkin to find Alric Thirsk. The man was well known and well traveled in these parts, probably because of jobs just like the one Julian had offered him. From what Julian knew, Alric's work, and that of his three-man crew, was not always criminal in nature, rather it consisted of whatever would bring in the money. Julian’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought. Even in Marenon, everything’s about money. His father had always told him that was how it was in the old world too. Nevertheless, Alric and his crew were the best at what they did, and Julian could only accept the best.

The week before, Julian had presented Alric with his proposal as well as maps of the targeted area and other information he would need to complete the job. As expected, Alric said he would have to discuss it with his crew and they would meet him a week later to give an answer. Julian had hoped to get an answer that day, but Alric wouldn't budge. Everything was done in collaboration with his crew.

Julian looked up and down the cobblestone streets of the city of Canor. Aside from the occasional horse and buggy, there was hardly a soul out that night. He could see the warm glow of the lanterns in the window of the Green Pumpkin and could hear the ruckus coming from inside. As he came to the door, he took a deep breath and felt for his dagger hidden underneath his cloak. He rubbed a hand through his dark, jaw-length hair and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to shadow his face. An ominous look would draw more attention than he needed, but it could be enough to frighten anyone that might confront him. He took another deep breath and walked through the door.

At first, no one looked up at him. A fight in the back corner held most of the crowd's attention. Others were engaged in conversation and sucking down one drink after another. Perhaps he was being overcautious.

There stood a divide in the middle of the pub and Julian made his way past it. A private room in the far right corner was reserved for his party where the others would be waiting for him. The fight that held most of the pub's attention was a twisted brawl happening only feet from where Julian needed to be, however. This was no good. An attempt to walk through would drag him into the conflict.

The crowd was in a frenzy as the blood spurted and spit flew. The fight was going to end in a dead body if they didn't stop soon. Perhaps that was the point. Finally, one opponent was able to pin the other to the ground. The man straddled him and swung his fists into the other’s face mercilessly, one right after the other. The crowd shouted louder and louder, but it was nothing compared to Julian's voice inside his brain yelling for him to stop this madness. He knew he didn’t need the attention he was going to get, but he felt he had no choice. The victim’s eyes started to roll back and he would likely die if Julian didn't intervene. He walked over to the bloodthirsty fighter and placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Let him go,” Julian said.

The attacker stopped and looked down at Julian’s hand then to his face. The previously jeering crowd fell silent as the man stood and stepped inches from Julian's shadowed nose.

“What exactly are you planning to do if I don’t?” the man grinned a yellow gap-filled grin, looking to his peers for encouragement. He found none.

Without warning, Julian grabbed the man's wrist and wrapped his arm behind his back, bringing the fighter to his knees. He cried out in surprise as Julian lifted his foot and kicked him in the middle of his back, snapping his arm like a twig. In the same motion he pulled out his dagger in readiness for a second attack from elsewhere. Not a soul moved. The entire pub sat motionless, trembling in fear of what Julian may be capable of doing to them. When he felt there was no attack coming, he sheathed his dagger back under his cloak, sheltering its visibility. Julian let out a silent shudder. It was too easy to let it happen. This was something he had always been trained to evade, a weakness his mentor had always told him to subdue. Whenever anger flooded into Julian's veins he could snap. His training could kick into motion and he had the potential to do something reckless. The problem in this situation was that he was harming the people he had sworn to protect. It troubled him even though he knew he had just saved someone’s life. He looked down at the man with the broken arm. The rest of the crowd sat dumbstruck at what they had just witnessed.

“Get back to your drinks.” It was just more than a whisper, but Julian's command jolted the crowd to nervous fidgeting among themselves. Julian pointed to the man who had been taking a beating when he arrived. “Someone get him help.” Immediately two people rushed to the man's side to care for his wounds.

Julian's training had become a blessing and a curse. He was of the Dunarian Council, warriors who had taken an oath to destroy the Stühocs and restore peace to Marenon.

The Dunarian Council had long ago been appointed by the Human king of Marenon, during the days of Sir Barton Teague. Julian had never met Teague, but knew plenty about him. Teague had originally formed the council. He had petitioned the king for the eradication of the Stühocs from Marenon and the creation of a special group to carry it out. The king agreed and named Teague its leader. Eventually, war came about and the Dunarian Council was on the front lines. The war ended badly, resulting in the king’s death, Erellens closing off their borders to the North and the Stühocs gaining more power. Shortly after that, Barton Teague disappeared. The new king’s successor had been friendly to the Dunarians, allowing them to continue their work. But in recent years that king had been killed and replaced by a tyrant who then declared the Dunarians outlaws.

Humans sympathizing with the Dunarian cause soon took up residence in Jekyll Rock after the war. The Erellens had given the fortress of Jekyll Rock to the council during the war, allowing the group quite a formidable base. The city housed several thousand soldiers and a thousand or more regular citizens. Anyone living within the city walls of Jekyll Rock considered themselves Dunarian. The soldiers were known as the Dunarian Order. The Dunarian Council was the law and leadership of the Order and the citizens. Julian had joined the Dunarian Order only five years before, but he had wanted to be a part of the Dunarians since he was younger. From a small boy he had grown to love and cherish the people that his father had spoken so highly of. He knew that the Dunarians were a part of something greater than Marenon’s Human monarchy.

The king sitting on the throne now wanted to bring peace between the Humans and Stühocs and restore trade and commerce with the Erellens. The Erellens, Julian could understand, but the Stühocs? The Stühocs deserved nothing but death, for all the Stühocs sought after was the destruction of anyone who wasn’t part of them. Sure, the Stühocs may one day make peace with the Human king, but only to increase their fighting power. First the Erellens would be destroyed, and then the Humans would be next until all that would be left in Marenon were Stühocs. Preventing this sort of action was what being a part of the Dunarian Order was about, and Julian had been honored to serve.

The Dunarians thrived through the years, but mostly in secret. The group was smaller than it had ever been, yet this allowed for more covert operations for its soldiers. After rising in the ranks of the Dunarian Order, Julian became one of the youngest people to be elected to the council. What the council now planned was big and Julian played a vital role. He was only twenty-four years old now, but he was the best swordsman of the eight and his fighting mirrored that of his mentor Kaden Osric.

He hoped he didn't need to use his dagger in the next room where his party waited. He also hoped they hadn’t slipped out the back window after seeing his quick fight only feet from the door. As he crossed through the doorway he lowered his hood revealing his long, thin face and green eyes. If he had not been so fierce and determined he might have seemed handsome, but on this mission his aim was to drive fear. They must know the mission cannot be taken lightly.

Alric Thirsk sat at the table on the other side of the room. Julian noticed the mercenary’s dagger glinting in the lamplight. Alric’s stare was stern and unwelcoming and he gave a look that dared someone to get too close. He looked the type to be devious enough for illegal jobs. He was shorter than Julian. His hair was cut close and he grew a thin black beard, making himself seem almost devilish. His demeanor was not contrary to that assumption. Next to Alric sat a strikingly beautiful woman. She had to be barely Julian's age, perhaps a couple of years younger. Her hair was also black and was pulled back in a ponytail reaching the middle of her back. Her eyes bore into him as though she were ready to set him on fire with a word. Another member of the group was a man about twice the size and weight of Julian, all muscle. Days of unshaven stubble lay patched across his face. There was also a blonde, fair-skinned man, perhaps a little older than the woman. He looked Erellen to Julian, but that couldn’t be possible. The Erellens hadn’t left their borders to the North for years.

Alric pointed with the tip of his dagger to a seat at the end of the table. Slowly, Julian walked to the chair and looked each of them in the eye.

“You really light up a room, don't you, pal?” Alric said with a smirk.

Julian ignored the comment. “Have you reached a decision?” he said getting straight to the point.

Alric looked at each member of his crew and then back to Julian. “First, I think you ought to know each member that you're dealing with.”

Julian nodded once.

“This is Inga. She has a higher sensitivity to magic than I’ve seen in any Sorcerer to tell you the truth. It’s proven to be an invaluable asset to completing our jobs.” Inga gave a slight nod of recognition.

He motioned to the giant of a man. “This is Coffman. He could take ten arrows to the chest before going down.” Coffman let out a low grunt, warning Julian not to overstep his bounds.

He then looked to the blonde man nearest to the window. “This is Lorcan Zamire and yes, your suspicions are correct, he is Erellen. He’s spent hours going over the mission plans with me and neither of us can figure it out.”

“Mr. Thirsk, I don't think you would have dragged your crew out here just to tell me that it can't be done, so please, get to the point.” Julian said.

“Well, let’s just be clear on exactly what you are asking for,” Alric said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “You want us to travel to Timugo, infiltrate the Anwyn’s territory, steal some sort of medallion kept in one of their most sacred areas, and somehow get it to you without being killed.”

“I don’t care if you’re killed,” Julian corrected, “just so long as I get that medallion.”

“Right. Let me be real with you, friend,” he said. Julian thought him to be an unusually vivid speaker, as if every sentence he spoke were of dire importance. “We need another man.”

“That’s not my problem,” Julian said. “You find the man you need and you get it done.”

“Fine. Let’s talk price.”

“Name it.”

Alric looked at all the others as if to give anyone a last chance to object. “Ten thousand.”

Julian nodded. “I think that can be arran-.”

“Each,” Alric interrupted. “Ten thousand each.”

“You can’t be serious,” Julian said squinting. “How can you expect us to pay forty thousand?”

“Well, when you take into account that we need an extra man then it’s fifty thousand,” he said. “What you want is a suicide mission. We’ve gone over the schematics a hundred times, and there is no way to accomplish this mission without one of my crew getting caught or killed.”

“Is that what your Erellen friend has come up with?”

Julian stared at Lorcan Zamire as he shifted in his seat. “There has to be bait,” Lorcan said. “I don't know how you got a map of the underground workings of Timugo, but if it's correct at all then we don't stand a chance of getting out with the medallion. The bait will go after a staff. It’s the staff of Uriah.” Lorcan took a deep breath then continued. “Trying to steal the staff will trigger an alarm and the fifth man will be caught, leaving us the chance to slip in and get the medallion.”

Julian's eyebrows furrowed. “If you only need someone to be captured then why the extra ten thousand?”

“No one will go on a job without seeing the money first. And anyway, running a job like this is a higher risk, so we demand higher funds.”

Julian nodded. Alric was right and they weren’t going to budge. The Dunarians had to go under the table with this sort of mission. Stealing the Anwyn’s medallion was cause for a war and the Dunarians were dwindling in numbers. Having the blame fall on a mercenary group would absolve the Dunarians if Alric and his crew happened to be caught.

“I'll give you half now, and half when you hand over the medallion.”

“Just like that, eh?” Alric said. It sounded as if he were about to laugh. “What does this jewelry do anyway?”

“You have a job to do,” Julian said. “I give you the money, you get me the medallion.”

He stood abruptly. His sudden move caused all four of them to come to attention. Lorcan and Coffman grabbed for their weapons, then sheepishly calmed themselves when they realized Julian was only standing to leave.

“I don't care much for your intrigue,” Julian said. “We just want to make sure you get it done.”

“Oh, it'll get done.”

“Good. Then I will be back in a few moments with the money.”

It was Alric’s turn to stand. This time Julian inched his hand a little closer to his blade. “Actually, we're going with you. We don't want that kind of money in a place like this.”

Julian thought for a moment that this might be a ploy to get him out of the public eye so they could rob him of his money and get paid without having to lift a finger. This normally wouldn’t worry him too much, but with a magic user, an Erellen and brute force under Alric's command, Julian wasn't sure it was a fight he could win. He decided to take his chances, however. With a nod, he turned to leave the pub the way he had come. Eyes followed him and the group as they made their way through to the exit. A cold hush fell over every table as if all of the heat had been sucked out of the room.

“Fine impression you've made,” Alric muttered under his breath.

Julian walked out into the dark street, ever ready with his dagger tucked under his cloak. Eden would not be too far away. The moon lit their path and Julian led them to a large field on the outskirts of town. The night sky was bright and open and his company's footsteps fell heavy in the grass. Julian could sense a wariness in the others, a fear that they themselves may be walking into some sort of trap. They were used to undertakings that were usually sketchy at best, and for all they knew they were walking into large group of the king's soldiers, only to be placed under arrest for previous crimes committed.

As soon as they were away from the soft glow of the city’s lights, Julian lifted a chain from his neck that had been hidden beneath his cloak. He clutched a small cylindrical device at the chain’s end, held it to his mouth and blew softly. From the device came a sound unlike a conventional whistle. It resounded through the plain with a much lower tone than anything so small should have made. It echoed for several long seconds and the onlookers waited in silence. Alric gave the others a skeptical look. Then, shooting from the sky, came a large beast with wings as long as a house. The massive flying animal was much like an eagle, yet twice the size of a horse. Its dark, brown wings tucked close to its sides as it landed and its head shot straight up to give a long, peculiar look to the new guests. Its feathers were soft to the touch, but strong. It was a sarian.

Julian heard the group behind him whispering. Above the rest he heard Coffman say, “A sarian? I haven’t seen one of those in years.”

“This is Eden,” Julian said as he reached to the head of the bowing creature. He stroked her long neck as she glared at the others, daring them to step closer. “She's been mine for more than two years now.”

Inga was the next to speak. “It takes a special person to be able to ride a sarian. They aren't usually very trusting.”

“As a magic user I'm not surprised that you would know much about them,” Julian said. “It takes magic and agility to even get near one in the wild, much less train it. She goes everywhere I go.”

“That's all well and good,” Alric said, “but if you don't mind, I'm out here to see the money, not talk about your flying pet.”

Eden flashed her sharp beak. With a single swipe of her knife-like talons she could slice through a man’s body. Julian moved to the side of the creature and unlatched a pocket on the saddle. He sorted through the pocket for a moment then threw a bag at Alric's feet.

“It's twenty-five thousand. You'll get the rest when we get the medallion.”

Alric hunched over the bag, counting for several moments then looked up and nodded. “We'll see you in five days then.”

“And you remember the designated place?”

“Of course,” Alric answered.

“If you don’t show up I will assume that you’ve run off with the money,” Julian said. “I will hunt you and spread your entrails all over Canor, you understand?” He said the words coolly and without malice. He wanted them to know he meant what he said without sounding rough or evil.

“Fine,” Alric said. Without another word spoken, the group turned and left the field.

Julian mounted Eden and whispered in her ear. “Let's go home, girl.”

The next part of his mission would be the most dangerous.