The Kedar Mining Group was based out of a large square stone building on the east side of Kedar City. It was a long hike through the winding, sweaty streets before Lerran and his comrades reached it. Their banners, a black banner with a white semicircle—which looked more like a sideways moon than the top of a mining axe—adorned all the street corners near their structure. Though the Mining Group had a small private army in their employ, they competed for power in Kedar using money and jobs, not brute force and reputation like the Saltwater Army or the Tower of Black and Blue.
“Do you have an appointment?” asked one of the guards on duty in front of their headquarters.
Lerran shrugged. “I do not,” he replied. “I’m looking for information about my—”
“No appointment? That line,” the guard said. There were two lines, one with cushioned chairs beneath a red and yellow canopy, the other full of dirty, disgruntled miners and beggars. When Lerran opened his mouth to object, the guard shook his head. “That line, sir. Just to the left there.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Lerran said. He walked away, then formed a circle with his men. “Kolt, get in that line, and make an appointment for me. If they ask, it has to do with a Son of Gharo. They should know enough to consider it a potential investment.”
“Sir,” Kolt said, and marched away. “I’ll meet you back at the inn?” he called over his shoulder.
“Good.” Lerran nodded, then said to the others, “Let’s go see the Army next.” Of course, that involved another trek across town. Kedar was unlike any other city Lerran had visited. Though many buildings were built against one another in blocks, with occasional alleys betwixt them, there’d be a four storey mansion built against a two-storey shop, next to a one-storey shack. The more money a property earned, the taller it was, regardless of the usual advise of masons and the symmetry of the city block.
The Saltwater Army didn’t bother with emblems and sigils. Their mercenary soldiers wore custom-made armour, with long bird feathers arrayed from their shoulder spaulders and iron trim around the boiled leather and brass plates. The only flags they flew were a plain beige, with “Salt Water” written across them in a plain text. They had no interest in the flowery patterns or colourful decor of the Black and Blue, nor the display of wealth favoured by the Mining Group.
As they entered the front office of a three-building base, they spoke with a man seated at a desk. The man wore a black leather headband and had tattoos of skulls and sea tentacles covering his arms. “Are you here for recruitment?” he asked as they approached.
“No,” Lerran said.
“Oh, sorry,” the man replied. “Have a seat and tell me how I can direct you.” He indicated a couple of chair nearby, but Lerran waved Niloru and Silver to wait by the door when he sat down.
Lerran sat down and sighed. He’d walked very far today, and it was comfortable to be off his feet, even if he was sitting on a simple wooden seat. “I’m Lerran, son of Gharo,” he said. “And I’m here looking for my brother and uncle.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “We keep a record of the ships that stop in Kedar City, if the harbour master keeps a record of it. Let me just find the right report. When would the other Gharo ship have been in Kedar?”
“They should have arrived at the start of the 6th Moon,” Lerran said. “And their dealings here shouldn’t have taken them too long.”
The officer flipped through the paperwork on his desk until he found the right sheet. “Well, this is the 6th Moon log. What’s the ship called? The Dispatch, right?”
“The Vanci Dispatch, in full,” Lerran explained.
“Oh, here, they set sail on the third of the 6th,” the man said. “Leaving Kedar. Must have arrived during the 5th Moon. Want me to find it?”
“No, that’s fine. But they did in fact leave Kedar?” Lerran asked. The man nodded, and showed him the Harbour Master’s report. “Do you have any other records of what my kin did while they were in Kedar? I’m looking for any information on them.”
The man shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Of all Kedar’s factions, we’ve the worst spies.” He delivered the line with a smile that quickly faded, and then tucked away his paperwork again. “Was there anything else?”
“No,” Lerran said, “but thank you for your help.”
Havard’s Brothers, the fourth major faction in Kedar, had appeared within the past five years and Lerran had only seen a handful of mentions about them back home in Sheld. They removed their green Eyes of Gharo when they walked that way. It wasn’t until he reached their district of the city that Lerran began to realize how powerful they had become; there was a wall of flagpoles around their territory, linked by a white rope, that ran through the alleys and streets, and even draped over the rooftops of buildings in the way. The Brothers wore white or light blue robes, and every one of them hole an unmarked wooden quarterstaff. They paced their white cord in silence, and only bowed to Lerran as he approached. At the sound of some shouts, he glanced to the right, and was able to see through an alley to the next street. A fight had broken out between some of the Brothers and apparently hostile citizens; despite their religious outfits, the Brothers smashed down man after man, pinning them to the ground until they yielded or were struck unconscious.
“Don’t cross us, and you’ll have no problem,” one of the Brothers nearby said. “We do not attack unprovoked. Havard teaches fairness in all things.”
“I have a question for Havard,” Lerran said. “Or for his—”
“It’s to be expected,” the Brother said, stepping closer. He had long hair, wrapped around itself into a long knotted braid. He rested both his hands on his staff though he didn’t seem to be leaning on it. “Havard holds audience in the Lowtown Tavern, once a place of corruption, now a chapel of purity. Seek him out there for your answers.”
Lerran tried not to grin. He didn’t want to disrespect the locals though he found this entire organization to be humorous. Nonetheless, he went the way he had been directed, passing a group of chanting brothers. They spoke the common tongue, but the syllables were all oddly toned to make it sound like a divine chorus. They were saying something about equity and good treatment for all castes.
The Lowtown Tavern was a wooden longhouse, with its supporting beams painted red. Over the double-door, someone had painted the words: “Enlightenment and Peace for Kedar”. There was a line of people leaving and a line of people entering. The line shuffled at a reasonable pace, so Lerran decided to wait this time. He reached the threshold and was finally rewarded a view inside.
The Tavern had been stripped of its tables and chairs, and its bar had been overturned to make a wooden dais. Upon the long platform were five chairs. Men in light yellow robes sat in four of the chairs, but the middle chair was occupied by Havard himself. The man of import wore a red scarf from his shoulder to his waist, over top of a plain white tunic; he was a man of significant size, though he was not thick of gut. He had shoulders the size of Lerran’s head and hands just as large folded in front of him. He had a big hooked nose, a small, pointed chin, and a wide, balding forehead. He was white-skinned, with dark auburn hair that was starting to brown and grey in the sides.
As soon as Lerran stepped inside, a Brother waiting near the wall fell into stride with him. The Son of Gharo noticed that all of the procession going through the room had a Brother next to them, as they walked in a circle, past the makeshift dais and back to the door. The man next to Lerran walked with a bowed head. “Welcome, friend. Have you visited Havard’s Tavern before?”
“No,” Lerran said. He tried to be patient with his companion. Behind him, Niloru and Silver were each approached by their own accompanying Brother.
The Brother next to him didn’t look at him, and spoke quietly. “What matter should we pray for today, my friend? How may Havard improve your life?”
Lerran decided there was no harm is telling this Brother what his problem was. In the very least, someone in the faction was learning of it, similar to the guards or officers he had spoken with at other places. “I’m looking for my brother,” he told the Brother, as they shuffled in the circle around the room. “He arrived in Kedar a few months ago, and I have record of him leaving. But he never made it home, and I must consider if something in Kedar is the cause of that.”
“A noble purpose. Our kin, both flesh and spiritual, is worthy of every effort,” the Brother said.
Without warning, the line halted. Havard, still seated in his big armchair, began to speak with someone ahead in the line. The voices were loud enough to be heard, but Lerran had no care to listen. He asked the Brother directly, “Does Havard and his men have any information that might aid my ‘purpose’?”
They began to move again. “That is not for me to say,” the Brother said. “Havard will bless your mission, and you will find what you must find to further your enlightenment. It may not be as you expect, but his power will aid you one way or another.”
Lerran found it difficult to tell if all of these people actually believed in the discourse or if it was all a front for criminal endeavors. Soon, they began to approach the front dais, with the Brother on Lerran’s right and Havard beyond him.
One of the Brothers who was seated next to Havard stood up and whispered something short into his leader’s ear. It couldn’t have been more than two or three words; and then the man sat down. As soon as he had done so, Havard stood up again, looked down at Lerran, and said, “Lerran, Son of Gharo, welcome.”
Lerran blinked. He had been avoiding being connected here, but Havard’s spies had already spotted him in Kedar, apparently. He bobbed his head in respect and said, “Thank you for the welcome. I have a business matter to discuss, if you would honour me with a private audience?”
Havard smiled, and parted his big hands. “Of course,” he said. “Everyone: I will attend my guest now. Feel free to leave, or to sit and stay. Whatever you decide.” Then, with a smooth shift of his weight, Havard dropped from the edge of the overturned bar to the floor of the tavern with a boom. A few of his Brothers followed, dropping nimbly despite their robes. “Feel free to bring whatever support you must,” he told Lerran, and led the way toward a side room.
They had turned the kitchen into a sitting room, with a large table already set with drinks and fruits. “Help yourself,” Havard said, as he led them in and claimed a large chair at the head of the table. Silver and Niloru didn’t sit until Lerran did.
Once they were all sitting, Lerran said, “I hope you are in good health, and I am glad you’ve taken this time to speak with me,” he said. “I was curious that you knew who I was already. You must have a few connections around Kedar?”
Havard laughed, and his friends smiled. Two were men, and one a woman, though none had any tattoos or scars to speak of. One of the men was black, the other even more pale than Havard and wore a big, brown beard. “I did not mean to alarm you,” he said to Lerran. “My gifts and blessings are the only thing that have set me apart from the common man, and I seek to pass that benevolence onward. In short, I know all about your quest. I have seen the alliance between slaves and spies in Bellasa. In Sheld, you left Sister Gadra in charge of your duties. I know why you are here, Lerran, and I seek an exchange of favours.”
Lerran blinked. “Go on,” he said. His men were staring at him, but Lerran couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What favour?”
Havard nodded gently. “I will tell you where Renado and Vanci are,” he said. “And where they have been. In return, I require your secrecy—that is of utmost importance. Even this conversation must be kept to the grave. And I will require the completion of a task before I tell you everything you seek.”
“I’ve no problem with secrecy,” Lerran replied. “Should we speak one on one?”
“Of course. Wait outside, Brothers,” Havard said. His men stood, and Lerran indicated Niloru and Silver ought to go with them. Once Havard and he were alone, the big man explained his terms in more detail. “I will tell you what transpired here in Kedar now, and where Renado is after you complete the following: you must replace Gharo as the leader of your Family. He need not die, if you can find a way, but I foresee a need for your leadership. Gharo is stuck with tradition and loyalty. In the coming days, Sheld and, indeed, all Radregar will be tested. Merit will rule, and you will keep your Family together with it. Our land’s destiny is unity and enlightenment, and Gharo will be a roadblock.”
Lerran had so many questions about who this man was and what his sources were… but instead he stayed on point. “Are you asking me to disown my father from our operations? Could he keep a position in the Family?”
Havard smiled. “Of course he could. If you deem his advice or services worthwhile, that’s your decision. I simply want you to make the decisions for your Family now. You’ve proven, again and again, that you’re better at it than he is.”
“Very well,” Lerran said. “I’ll agree to it. He has to retire at some point.”
Havard nodded. “Wise choice,” he said. He reached out his hand and Lerran shook it. “Renado and Vanci arrived in Kedar to learn that Yigal had been killed by his own faction for crossing them on the matter of another man’s debt.”
Lerran nodded and folded his arms to listen.
“They managed to arrange a deal to sell the weapons to the Tower of Black and Blue, and were later seen selling a slave in one of the markets. I assume that was part of the Black and Blue’s deal. They left soon after,” Havard explained. “As soon as you replace your father, I will send a man with information about Renado’s current whereabouts. I assure you he will return to Sheld safely, although not for some time.”
“Thank you,” Lerran said. “If I do not receive your messenger, I will see you again.”
“And if you break your oath of secrecy,” Havard said, “well, the same goes.”