Raya 32

1479 - 5 - 23 Raya 32

Axar’s manor in the Low Dales was smaller than the mansion where Nalisa Orr had lived, but it was still as large as the longhouse of the Council of Olston.  Two pillars supported the leaning roof over the large front door, where a small potted tree with dark blue flowers grew.  The sun-scorched blue shingles above were dusted with ash and the unprotected trees were starting to wilt, like many of the plants in Ith.

Raya looked at the windows on the front face of the house.  There was no movement.

“Better look for a side or back door,” Benn said, quietly.  Dondar accompanied them this time, to keep an eye out on the streets.  As Jadden had said, all eyes in Ith were focused on the funeral of King Rull and King Malgar.  Raya had seen them in the distance, from a residential hill just above Massed Alley: a thousand men and women following hundreds of guards toward the central district of Ith, Pranan’s Hill.

Here in the Low Dales, the trails and dirt roads between greying grass were devoid of pedestrians and soldiers alike.  The stricken clouds hung against the tops of steeple-crowned mansions on the nearest hill, while the residence of the magician Raya sought rested in a low-rolling glen.

Raya followed Benn’s lead.  They avoided the front door and approached Axar’s house from the side.  They cut through the grove on the right angle of the property and paused to make sure the view was clear before approaching a small kitchen door.

Raya quietly tried the handle but was resisted by a lock.  She looked at Benn—he could pick it, she hoped.  But she decided to check the windows first, and stepped back from the door.  None of the windows were glass, and none were open.  Bright white shutters blocked each opening.

The lock clicked and the kitchen door swung open.  A lanky man with skin far darker than Raya’s and hair just as long came striding out with his empty hands held out from his sides.  His braided black hair hung down his back behind a long V-neck tunic.  The loose garment was made of seed cloth of some kind, hemp or flax, perhaps, but was dyed with a rich steel-blue and white trims.  At the man’s waist hung a sword, but he greeted the trespassers with open hands and a clean, white smile.

“Good day,” the man said.  His grin didn’t fade.  “We meet at last.”

Raya and Benn had both stepped back a few paces and Raya gripped the knife at her belt.

The man seemed unconcerned about that.  He tilted his head when neither of them broke the stunned silence.  “I believe you’ve been looking for me for the last month, at least, or so my people warn me.  My name is Axar.”

When the huntress and stable boy didn’t reply, he shrugged and folded his arms.  “But I’m not one for schemes and hiding places.  How may I help you both?”

Raya blinked.  Is this really Axar? she wondered.  There had been two legible names near Mount Lukar—Axar and Nalisa Orr.  This was certainly unfolding much differently than her investigation of the other name.  She let out her tense breath and inhaled.  Her bow string held her bow around her torso and itched to be pulled if the need arose, but she forced her right palm to release the knife handle.

She looked at Benn for a moment and they both looked back at the man.  “Do you know the name Nalisa Orr?” she asked.

“How do you know this name?” the man asked.  His didn’t change his closed posture, just stood there with his folded arms and spoke to them.

Raya’s stomach churned.  “How do you know it?”

“I worked with her, true,” Axar said, “Until her own mercenary killed her, as near as I can figure it.  Seven or eight Moons past.”

“Her own mercenary?” Raya questioned.

Axar held up one finger and smiled.  “Let’s go inside…?”

“Raya.”

“…Raya.  I’ll tell you what I can and you can get on your way.”  Axar bobbed his head back, toward the door.

Raya glanced at Benn.  He looked as tense as she felt, but he forced a shrug.  She looked back at Axar.  “Alright.”

They went inside quietly, and found a well put-together home.  As they were entering through the kitchen, they were greeted by the smell of fresh bread and the sight of pots and pans hanging from racks near the ceiling.  A servant in a stained apron bowed as they entered, but Axar led them through a door on the immediate left and into a small living area.

Raya glanced through the open front window and spotted Dondar walking along the road.  She turned, and Axar sat down.  “Please,” he said.  They all sat in cushioned armchairs, Benn and Raya facing Axar.  Axar kept smiling at some irony that Raya could not place and said, “You want the whole story, I suspect?  I may ask a favour in return.”

We’ve spent so long trying to determine the whole story, she thought.  Nothing in this conversation had put her mind at ease though, so she said, “What favour?”

Axar smiled.  “It won’t make sense until you know the rest.  But these are secrets known only to ten or twelve people in the world…  I need to know that you will at least hear me out.”  He leaned forward in his chair.

“Very well,” Raya said.  Benn looked at her warily, and they listened to Axar’s story.

Axar leaned back, his eyes wide.  “Dago Ai Ji Malzo, the mercenary, one of the only people to have escaped the hellish city of Yarik.  Miss Puzzle—Nalisa, as only you and I and a few others know—captured him years later, in an attempt to gain entry to the city.  In Elpan, north of here, I encountered Dago on the road and he told me where to find Nalisa Orr: in a dark alleyway full of stab wounds.”

“Gods,” Benn said.

Raya just blinked and absorbed the information.  She had not suspected that Dago was as harsh a man as this story portrayed him.  “I only have more questions.  What is Yarik—I’ve only heard that it’s a city that does not allow people in or out?  And what happened to Dago after that?”

“I’m afraid I do not know,” Axar said, shaking his head.  “I don’t even know what else Miss Puzzle might have been up to!  After finding my old colleague dead, I returned home and applied my efforts more directly to my status here.”

“Do you know anything about the volcano?” Raya asked.  “Mount Lukar?”

Axar sat up and shrugged.  “Nothing.”

A moment passed in silence.  Raya weighed her options.  Should she reveal that she found his name in the ruins?  She decided against anything that risky.  “What’s this favour then?”

“I’m responsible for that man, Jadden.  I freed him and he works for me.  I don’t suspect he will after the immanent events at today’s funeral.  The magicians of Vagren seek strife in my city, but I seek power.  I do not wish the Mage Kings to win.  Rather, I want to win,” Axar said.  He muttered something bitter beneath his breath, and then stood up.  “You’ve travelled across the realm to seek answers to your questions.  So, from now on, you do not work for those foreign schemers.  You work for me.  I need you to help this revolution and you need me to answer the rest of your questions.”

Raya and Benn looked at each other.  That was no simple favour.  That was a demand, and Axar had not been honest about its significance.  “We had not planned to get so involved.  Everyone keeps asking me to get involved with this revolution—why?”

“My spies in Vagren heard you asking around to learn about me.  And here you are, you found me.  You commend the respect and obedience of those who follow you, and seem unwilling to rest with inadequate answers.  You want all or nothing,” Axar said.  He paced across the living room, but turned back to Raya.  “I’ve divulged secrets to you, and I need to know you won’t just repeat them to your masters back home.  Is it Irreth or Vray or Lotha who sent you to Ith?  Whoever it was, they trust you to complete your quest.  And I respect their judgement.”

Raya ground her teeth.  She was getting tired of all these expectations of her—she was no revolutionary or spy or hero.  She was just a huntress who was trying to find answers for her dead friend Hemsten and safety for her home.  She was growing weary of people expecting her to intervene in their struggles or swear allegiance to their cause.  But she couldn’t just walk away from all this.  Especially not with Axar standing there, armed, and demanding an answer.  She glanced at Benn apologetically, then back at Axar.  “I haven’t liked the way I’ve seen the people here treated, so I’ll help out for now.  I don’t really know what to make of all this.”

“Excellent,” Axar said.  “I’ll see if I can arrange a place for you and your friends to stay.  I’ll send for you in Massed Alley when things are arranged, and then I’ll propose a few ideas for how you may best help.”

Raya bobbed her head.  She wanted to learn more about Axar too—why was his name on Mount Lukar, for one?  But also: what did he know of Lotha and why did he consider the Vagren magicians his enemies?  Instead, she said, “I’ll await word then.  And talk about all this with my friends.”

Axar bowed.  “And Raya—arrive and leave by the front door from now on.”  The man lowered his face and looked at her from below his brows.  “I sometimes have more guards who might not expect a guest in the kitchens.”  He smiled again.

When they walked off the porch of the house, Dondar spun and stared.

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