“It’s time,” Halrum said. The man wore a small hood over his balding grey hair, further disguising his heavily bearded face.
Renado paused, panting for breath. He lowered the wooden sparring sword and leaned it across his knees. He looked at Asar, similarly winded from their training, and then at Woodro who had been spectating them. “Woodro, go get Karsef. Meet us on the road.”
They had been training rigorously again, ever since Gravagan’s visit. Ren had basically been dividing his time between attending Ira’s card games and beating his flesh to a bruised pulp with wooden sticks. He knew they would never compare to the strength of the warriors from the Circle—Lerran’s stories about Paksis had warned him of such, but he wanted to be as ready as he could.
“I’m sure you know the way?” Halrum asked.
Ren nodded, and the messenger departed, through the alley from which he had, moments ago, emerged. Renado frowned.
“Guess the old fellow doesn’t like the Circle?” Asar asked, reflecting Ren’s expression.
They were both shirtless, but pulled on their garb as they set out from the small yard. Smoke rose from the chimneys of nearby houses, but that had been their only shade from the scalding sun. As they left the alley, they pulled on their tunics and proceeded to sweat through them. It was the morning still, and the streets were bustling with men and women going to their places of work. Their daily lives, constrained by curfews and fueled by slaves, were nothing like Ren’s life. Some days it struck him more than others.
To his surprise, Irrith and a group of others were standing outside the house of Nalisa Orr, rather than sitting around the shaded living room. Two stood in the forefront. The two leaders, Ren assumed. They wore lightweight armour, studded plates of metal bound by chainmail and protecting only their organs. One was a young man, younger even than Ren. Unlike Ren, his bare face and arms were marked with crossed lines and even burn marks. His flesh was heavily scarred, and everywhere calloused. He had a bit of a beard, messy and whiskery. Beside him stood a woman who might have been Ren’s age or a little older, though no more than thirty. She bore no scars, but her skin looked rough and calloused like her comrades.
“Ren,” Irrith called as they approached. Woodro and Karsef came jogging up behind them.
“Irrith,” Ren said. “I assume these are our reinforcements?”
The female newcomer smirked. “You’re our reinforcements, friend. Ha, no offence meant. I’m Kazra.”
Renado nodded. “I’m Renado, but you can call me Ren.”
“Then you can call me Kaz,” the woman drawled. She didn’t bother offering a hand for clasping.
“And this is Virn,” Irrith said.
Virn barely stirred. He looked at Ren through an emotionless face, like peering through a mask. Renado gave the man a nonchalant wave, and then introduced his men. Woodro insisted on getting a clasped hand from Kaz, marvelling that it was indeed a firm grip; he had no success getting such a gesture from Virn. Lastly, Kaz introduced the other four men behind them: “This is Sarno, and his men, Dorvigo, Red, and Crollem. Now that’s that. Shall we head out?”
Ren blinked. “We’ll just need to collect our things,” he said, but he was really thinking about saying farewell to Ira.
Kaz rolled her eyes and flicked her hand at them. “Meet us outside the gate then. Took us ages to get inside the city, on account of that useless ‘invitation-only’ policy.” They started to walk away, leaving Irrith and her guards standing in the street alone, and a little bothered.
Ira wasn’t at the tavern where Ren had been staying the last few moons, so he told his men to grab his things and went in search of her. She lived in a small home with a sister and one of their mutual friends, on a side street not far away. Ren knocked on her door and waited for her sister to fetch her. When Ira saw Ren, standing on the doorstep and drenched in sweat, she started to laugh. Her hair was bound in a tail behind her head and bobbed with her humour. “Could you not find a bath elsewhere?” she asked, waving him in.
“No,” Ren said, but he wasn’t answering her question. “No, I mean I’m not looking for a bath.”
She glanced at him, frowning. “Oh. Oh, it’s time?”
Ren nodded. “I didn’t want to leave without seeing you,” he said. He blinked, and added, “And saying goodbye.”
“Just make sure you come and say hi when you return,” Ira said. “When,” she asserted again, despite his objections. She stepped closer to him.
“You’ll get all sweaty,” Ren said, smiling, but he spread his arms.
“Then I’ll have to take a bath,” she said, embracing him.
Ren chuckled and turned his neck to look at her in surprise. She was looking at him already, and then she put her lips to his. Their first kiss lasted a few moments, but it was full of longing, not passion. When they pulled apart, they were both showing small, sad smiles.
Ren was quiet on his walk to the city gate, though he had quickly rejoined his companions. Asar and Karsef talked about the group of soldiers in tow with the two Circle warriors. They had both been expecting a larger group, in general. When they exited the city gate, Kaz didn’t ask if they needed anything else; she just started walking across the grassland and the rest fell into tow.
The man named Sarno fell into stride beside Renado. The man had short brown hair and a single scar on his forehead. It looked like a graze from an arrow. “So,” said the swordsman, “Are any of your guys magicians?”
“Nope,” Renado said, quietly.
“Then how long have you worked for them?” Sarno asked. He made a mock dramatic voice. “For the Conclave?”
“Long enough.”
Sarno eyed him, and his somber replies. “Are you from these parts?” the warrior asked.
“No,” Renado said. “We’re from a city that got destroyed.” Because of me… he remembered. He could still see the columns of smoke over his home, and the bodies hanging over the estate… Gadra, Eseveer, Aunt Mara, and the list went on.
“Ellakar?” asked Sarno. Renado had heard of Ellakar, a city to the east of here. The city had been reduced to rubble by a volcano.
Ren shook his head to the man. “Another city, and not by natural disaster.”
Sarno chuckled. “So you don’t believe what they say about the Mage Kings destroying Ellakar with an earthquake?”
Woodro interjected, striding along behind them. “Wait,” he said. “The same Mage Kings we are going to fight? They destroyed a city with a volcano?”
A few of Sarno’s men chuckled. Ren thought he even heard Kazra’s laughter carried back on the warm breeze. Sarno looked back at Woodro and said, “That’s what they say. Be ready for anything, my friend.”
Woodro was nodding excitedly. “At last,” he breathed. “A real fight.”
Renado turned to look at his crazy mercenary. He rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his palm.