The Hammer of Fire (15 page)

He looked at her with those plain brown eyes
and seemed to take in every part of her, “It is a fair question.
The answer is that people are, by and large, quite
self-destructive. Think back to all the people you’ve known over
your lifetime and their penchant for making decisions that are
detrimental to their life.”

“That doesn’t make sense. We do everything to
better ourselves,” said Milli taking a step forward and clenching
her fists somehow angry although she didn’t know exactly why.

“The rational thinker does, yes,” replied the
man. “That is true and that is why I am here today to ask for your
help. The First Citizens suspects that you are, like he, rational
thinkers. Sadly, most people are unreasoning thinker and they make
decisions based largely on what they want to be true. That is if
they give it any thought at all. For the most part people are happy
to repeat the musings of someone else and save themselves the
effort of thinking. This naturally means that they are simply doing
what is in the best interest of whoever told them how to think in
the first place. Anyone who does things in someone else’s interest
is, by definition, self-destructive.”

“There is some truth to that,” said Petra, as
she walked over to the man and looked at him closely. “You have the
bearing of a noble, not a messenger.”

“Can I not be a noble messenger?” he said
with a laugh. “You have the bearing of an intelligent woman who
preys upon the weaknesses in others while pretending to be a witchy
woman.”

“Pretending?” said Petra although she smiled
broadly despite herself as she realized the compliment.

The man shrugged, “Well, perhaps you can do a
bit of magic. Many witches can brew tonics and the like, but it is
the love potions and curse dolls that provide the vast majority of
their income. Thus, proving my original point, I might add.”

Petra nodded her head and put her hand on her
chin, “People do make poor decisions all too frequently. I see it
all the time in my line of work. It never occurred to me that it
was because they wanted to sabotage their own lives or that they
were doing the bidding of someone else without regard to its effect
on their lives. I’m not sure I completely agree with you on the
matter, but I do see the truth of the argument. I would much like
to meet the First Citizen and discuss these matters.”

“He is an extraordinarily busy man and cannot
personally attend to every occasion, no matter the importance,”
said the messenger. “But I will make certain he knows your desires.
Perhaps, if our arrangement proves fruitful you will have that
chance someday.”

“I don’t get it,” said Brogus lagging a bit
in the conversation, his eyebrows close together and his nose
wrinkled up. “Why would you trust us if you think we’ll only do
what’s good for us?”

“It is not an easy thing to understand,” said
the man with an easy smile as he looked towards Brugus. “It took me
many years and many discussions with the First Citizen to fully
understand the value of his philosophy. He only asks people to act
in ways that will benefit their own lives. By working to benefit my
life I end up helping those around me. Those people in turn act in
their own best interest which serves the entire nation.”

“Now see here,” said Petra suddenly jumping
back into the conversation. “There were rulers in Das’von before
Corancil conquered it. Many men died in the wars that led to his
rule. The previous kings faced death or exile. How is it in their
interest to have died in this fight?”

“They did not surround themselves with people
who could be trusted to act in their own self-interest and thus
they suffered. There will be conflict. There will be winners and
losers in life. The First Citizen makes decisions that will be to
his benefit and picks allies who will do the same. What more can
anyone do?”

“I still don’t think that it applies
completely,” said Petra shaking her head as her voice trailed off
into silence.

“Postulate your objections then,” said the
man with the same calm expression of absolute certitude. “There can
be disagreement as long as both sides listen. Just because you try
to make the best decision doesn’t mean that you always will do so.
Knowledge is as important as action. Academics enjoy verbal
jousting while men … and women … of action prefer activity to
thought. The true ruler, the builder, the doer of deeds can be
either a thug or a man of rational self-interest. The thug will
build, will create, will attract followers but their foundation is
built on mud. A man who drinks wine at all times because it tastes
good destroys himself. The rational man drinks enough to sustain
himself and surrounds himself with those of a similar ilk,” this
last came as the man stood up straight, revealing a greater height
than he first projected, and his plain brown eyes seemed to shine
with passion. His jaw was firm and his hands were now clasped
strongly together behind his back.

“I … I … let me think about it,” finally
lapsed Petra and none of the others said anything either as the
room fell into silence. Brogus found himself standing up straight
and felt the urge to salute, Dol slipped off the bed and also stood
up straight, while Milli felt a sudden dizziness in her
stomach.

“Tell us your proposition then,” said Dol,
finally breaking the stillness that engulfed the small chamber.

“The First Citizen has need of information
about the ruler of a nomadic force in a great sandy desert to the
south. This Black Rider poses a threat to the First Citizen’s plans
of conquest in the southern continent. He proposes to aid you in
your journey south, in return you will learn as much as you can
about this person and, should you survive, pass this along to
agents of the First Citizen.”

“Why us?” said Milli, folding her arms across
her chest and staring at the man with narrowed eyes. “The First
Citizen must have plenty of spies?”

“The First Citizens would very much like the
alliance of people familiar with the location of Craggen Steep.
Conquest is costly and the need for gold a never ending burden.
And, of course, the south is your chosen destination in any case
which sweetens the offer.”

“I’ve never heard of Craggen Steep,” said Dol
in a steady tone.

“Yes, I’m aware that is the answer everyone
from Craggen Steep gives when questioned about the place. I
appreciate the drollness of it. Consider me impressed with your
cleverness,” said the man in a flat sort of tone. “Now, I’ve made
my proposition. You may discuss it tonight. If you agree then you
will not board your transport tomorrow and will await further
instructions. In that happy event, I will arrange your trip to the
south which, I assure you, will be far quicker and more comfortable
than the vessel.”

“Thank you for stopping by,” said Milli as
she shook off her stupor for a moment although she could not take
her eyes off the charismatic messenger. “Are you sure we can’t get
your name?”

The man bowed and put down his coffee cup,
“I’m sorry, but no. I hope that this alliance proves fruitful and
we can meet again. You intrigue me,” he said with a look to Milli
and then a pointed glance to Dol who stood with the Hammer of Fire
in his hand. “Farewell and best of luck whatever decision you
make.” With that, he turned, strode to the door which he opened
with a quick motion, and left the room while shutting the door
gently behind him.

Brogus followed him to the door, slid the
bolt, and then turned to face his companions. “I didn’t really
follow all of that but I did hear something about an easier
journey. I don’t think I’d like sailing much.”

Milli sat back down on the sawdust that
served as a mattress and blinked her eyes a few times, “I don’t
agree with everything he said but I like the idea of it. We get a
free ride to the southern continent faster than any other way and
we’re not really obligated to learn more about this Black Rider
fellow. We can always just find the five volcanoes, kill Gazadum,
and then be on our way. If anyone asks we can just say we didn’t
learn anything.”

“Kill who?” said Petra.

“Oh,” said Milli and covered her mouth.

“The first Fire Elemental,” said Dol. “I will
slay him with the Hammer of Fire and gain eternal glory.”

“Ohhh,” said Petra, “that Gazadum. I thought
you meant a friend of my father’s. Short fellow, round belly.”

At this the entire group broke into gales of
laughter, even Dol.

A day later the four waited in the little
ramshackle hut and everyone except Dol nervously looked back and
forth at one another. The tall dwarf with the little greenish
apples in his hair and beard stood quietly by the door with the
Hammer of Fire hanging from his belt. They had rigged a little
flange that pushed the hammer away from his leg when he walked so
as to avoid scorching his clothes. During their trip north to
Das’von and after a great deal of experimentation with the great
weapon they determined that even Dol was incapable of wielding the
thing for more than a minute before the intensity of the heat built
up to a point that he was unable to hold it any longer. Thus he
tended to keep it on the loop at his belt until it was immediately
needed.

“What if he doesn’t come?” said Brogus with
an anxious look at Milli. His eyes darted back and forth between
the two woman and the furrows on his brow were deep. “We still have
time to catch the ship.”

“He’ll come,” said Milli. “Did he strike you
as the sort to renege on an agreement?”

“What on an agreement?” said Brogus.

“Renege, not follow through,” said Milli with
a shake of her long hair. She apparently found fresh water in the
shanty town, or possibly bathed in the freezing cold glacial
runoff, because her gold hair shone brightly and curled in long,
luxurious waves. She had a pair of green ribbons in it and wore a
lighter-weight dress that showed off her trim but firm figure and
even wore a pair of pinch-toed shoes with long heels that increased
her height by several inches.

“You look pretty,” said Brogus as he came
over to look at her. “And you smell nice too,” this last as he
reached towards the ribbons in her hair.

“Don’t touch!” said Milli and took a step
backwards while raising her hands toward the stout dwarf. “You’ll
wreck it. And, it’s not a big thing. I just needed to clean up a
bit if we’re going on a journey. It might be my last chance for a
while.”

“Rap,” came a firm knock at the door.

Everyone in the shack stopped and looked at
each other, “Here we go,” said Brogus with a broad smile as he went
to the door and opened it.

A tall man, perhaps in his fifties, with a
heavy black cloak, dark eyes, and a pock marked face stepped into
the room and looked around. “I’m to facilitate your transportation
to the southlands. Are you ready?”

“Who are you?” asked Milli with a long frown
on her face.

“I am Robel,” said the man. “But it doesn’t
make any difference really. I am to facilitate your transport. Are
you ready?”

“Where’s the messenger?” asked Milli as she
tried to peer around the tall man to the doorway behind.

“I’m not sure who you mean,” said Robel with
a shrug of his shoulders and in a neutral tone. “Are you ready to
go, or not?”

“The man we first spoke with,” said Milli
with a little stamp of her foot. “We liked him.”

The man in black cocked his head at the
Halfling girl, “It’s not my concern if you like me or not. I’ve
been asked to transport you to the southern realm. Are you ready to
leave or do you need more time to prepare? Our window of
opportunity is short.”

“Fine,” said Milli and pursed her lips as she
took one last, hopeful look around the man to the area outside the
door. “We’re ready to go.”

“Follow me then,” said Robel turning to exit
the little building.

“Do we have everything?” said Brogus taking
one last frantic look around the little hut. The rotted wood,
boarded up and broken windows, the sputtering stove, and all the
other amenities of the last few weeks stared back at him in
silence.

“Is there anything here we want to keep?”
said Milli with a little curl of her upper lip. “The sooner the
memory of this place is gone from my mind the better. Leave it all
except your gear.”

“Fine by me,” said Brogus and he turned to
follow the man outside. The wind howled through the little shanty
village and the poorly built structures shuddered with the force of
it. On more than one occasion a brick or heavy stone tumbled off a
roof of one of the better built structure and injured passersbys.
Over the last couple of weeks they learned to listen carefully for
the sound of sliding masonry and duck under low eaves to avoid a
braining.

The man strode off in the opposite direction
of the great city and they followed him on foot for half an hour
with no sign of their destination. They soon left the shanty-town
village where the soldiers lived and passed onto the open plains
where the ground was somewhat spongy with a soft grassy
material.

“Where are we going?” Brogus finally asked as
he moved up to stand next to Robel.

“Transportation circle,” replied the tall man
with the dark robes.

“What’s that?” asked Brogus as he looked
keenly ahead trying to spot anything that might be a transportation
circle, whatever that might be.

“It’s a circle for transportation,” said
Robel.

“Thanks,” said Brogus with a snort and looked
back to his companions and spread his arms out with hands up while
rolling his eyes.

The man laughed, “All right, all right. I
suppose there isn’t a big need for all the mystery. Prepare
yourself for you are about to witness first-hand in just a few
minutes anyway. Corancil is in the process of building portals all
over the northern realms that can send a person from one to the
other almost instantaneously.”