The Task is a novel of medieval politics, espionage and combat on multiple levels. Locals search their inner selves while our heroes fight hand to hand with monsters that curse the area with their very presence
The Task
Chronicles of Jaffar Book 1By Randy FasigAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Randy Fasig
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4685-3613-3Chapter One
The Task
10/27/1024 TY [ Eoayous the 27th of Oekau year 1024 Tyracin calendar]
It had been a great Eoayous and if the rest of the weekend was the same it would be a good one. The snow had kept most barges off the river. Sailors and shore men with nothing better to do had flocked into the tavern. The night ran through Corimalin's mind while walking the five squares to his room, "If I had made a few more wagers I really could have cleaned up!"
Darrel, the inn keep, called as Cori entered, "I hear you made a few extra coin this eve."
"Yeah some new river rats up from the capital couldn't follow a pea if I had used clear mugs." He jokingly replied as he headed up the steps.
Corpo, the northern most city of Dacia, settled almost four centuries earlier was a mix of the old, the new, and everything in between. King Corrigan had commissioned the original outpost here as a first line of defense from the humanoid barbarian tribes of the north. Existing right on the edge of the badlands leading into the mountains of the north and the fertile fields of the southern plain, it grew. The farmers who wanted the security of being near a fortress and the free spirited independent types who thought they could make a name for themselves fighting the humanoid bands were all welcome, and of course the men who brought in the goods that allowed the place to survive, they were all here.
The original stonewall of the castle fortress was still there, in desperate need of repair. The city wall replaced the castles main defense two hundred years ago. Of course, since that time, the cities walls had been expanded three times. The first of these along the northern quarter were mostly prospectors and free swords for hire. It was not very successful.
The next expansion moved into the northeast. This was the local governors attempt to show the docks and warehouses that he was willing to protect their interests, saying in effect that it was his interest too. This was more successful, probably because the governor's comfy furniture came in through those docks, or perhaps because these people paid their taxes.
The most recent expansion was built about forty years ago and connected the two previous walled in areas. This created a new bow like arc connecting the dilapidated knob of the northwest, where most of the workers lived and tried to raise their families, to the well-maintained northeast.
The majority of the roofs here were tile rather than the more common thatch of the southern farming communities. The clay of the badlands, once you ground the clumps, produced a pinkish tint rather than the traditional deep red, giving the area its own unique flavor. The tiles tended to blend into the brick or give an accent to whitewashed wood, it even made the stonework somehow seem bright.
Corpo looked like a jewel. Lawbreakers were not jailed except in extreme cases They instead carried buckets of water from the river to others who swept the refuse from the streets and of course into the river. They did whitewashing or whatever civic improvement the new governor decided on next. He was going to keep his jewel clean.
The newest law forbid the carrying of swords in the city. This had boosted dagger sales. The idea was to keep the local free swords in check, and give the city guard an advantage.
It seemed to be working this was the first night in months that nobody had been beaten with a blade in the tavern. Dockmans Tavern of course was near the docks and attracted the rougher sailors off the river. This was why Corimalin had hesitated on those few extra bets. Better to go away a little light than be carried away dead.
As he placed his hand on the latch to his room a chill ran through his body. He pulled his hand away, quickly and carefully examining the door. The chill was instantly replaced by a feeling of dread. The door seemed fine the only tracks in the hall were from the snow on his boots. "I'm getting paranoid," he mused, and opened the door, acutely aware of the total darkness inside.
"Are you coming in?" A deep voice echoed in the small room.
Darrel would have told him if someone had come to see him, so this guy had come in through the window. Cori was thinking quickly running through all the possibilities he could think of. "You'll have to work for this bounty," He replied as a knife dropped from his sleeve into his hand.
"I mean you no harm, in fact I might just save you," the voice returned.
"Save me? How?"
"Enter and we will speak."
"How about a little light first?"
"As you wish," the shutters opened allowing the nearly full moon to shine in.
Cori could now see a tall figure in a dark cowl hooded flowing robe, standing near the window. This was belted at the waist and adorned with a bright platinum buckle. Not sure whether to run or face this stranger he stepped into the room leaving the door open behind him.
"I want you to do something for me."
"Who are you?" Cori tried to put more authority in his voice than he felt.
"Who I am is not important, for I am only a messenger. You just happened to be near and ready to leave town, so this small task serves us both."
Cori was now curious. Curiosity mixed with fear is strange enough but to feel compelled to hear this man out, that was just lunacy, wasn't it? "Well suppose you tell me why I would leave town in the middle of a snow storm?" His curiosity won out.
"Because an assassin from the Iron Fist was in the tavern tonight and he recognized you."
"How do you know that?"
Laughter bellowed throughout the room.
Cori jumped and closed the door, forgetting his escape route. "I don't see what could be so funny!" he snapped.
"You are so little worried for your life that you only care how I came upon my information."
"It is not that I do not care for my life, but being sure before I risk it on an open trail in the snow seems like a good idea to me!" Cori's voice rose as he spoke till it was almost a yell.
The stranger's voice lost all signs of amusement. "If not for my masters need of you I would kill you for speaking to me like that!"
"Now we are getting somewhere. Who is your master?" Cori tried to make it sound like a demand over the rising fear inside him, at the same time wishing he hadn't closed the door.
"Do as you will. My advice is that you leave here now and go to the temple founded by Jaffar Ibn Ravi. Once you arrive give him this message...."
Chapter Two
Time To go
10/27/1024 TY [Eoayous 27th of Oekau year 1024 Tyracin calendar]
Cori had packed everything quickly when the stranger left, if you could call fading away leaving. He was now carrying all his worldly belongings to the stables.
Willard proved to be his usual self, asleep in a pile of hay. From the smell of him he was drunk too, so much the better. Cori took two horses out the back and hitched them to a wagon. This accomplished, he threw a sack and his pack in the back. After climbing up he suddenly realized there were three crates in the wagon. "Oh well oops is the word for tonight." A smile crept across his lips.
After brushing the snow from the seat a quiet trip across the yard and out the gate this was almost too easy. Next stop Dockmans Tavern.
With the snow...
