seymoure

Chapter 5

The Mad Gods’ Battle

They were transported, not by song, but by something in the stars that was very like music.

After splitting up when their dinner was done, the four found themselves called to a small empty shop at the Eastern most end of the market.

The Verner brothers could hardly be capable of divining the reason for their ambling into the heart of this city that was supremely strange to them. They had finished all the business they were going to do, including dissuading the confidence man that they would be his partners in bar brawls for profit. The pair hoped to begin the journey home on the morrow, but still found themselves wandering in the dark streets.

Cela of Tar had finished her last performance and found herself nearly feverish. The stage was always stuffy and hot, but this was beyond the limits of what she had felt before. She wrapped herself in a shawl and thought she would take some air in the late night. She did not fear the darkness nor the streets, but even so this was not something any normal woman would do on any normal night.

Slip had lit a pipe and was thoughtful. He would have to find a way to corral the big man into being some sort of engine of wealth creation for him. This boy was a gift from the Gods, but the little man would have to find a way to convince him of that fact.

The four walked into the shop within minutes of each other, and they all sat quietly, as though waiting for someone or something.

And so they were.

Slip was the last of them through the door, and he walked to a table and sat puffing on his pipe, with none of them speaking at all.

An ancient wooden door at the back of the shop opened with a creak. Into the room came six monks, shaved heads and brown robes giving no hint to their identities.

After the monks came an older man who carried years of burden on his shoulders.

“You are here to be given a chance to do something that you may hesitate to do,” the old man said.

The quartet glanced at each other, but none said a word.

“The throne of Takis is empty. Forces of the dark God Danset would do anything to fill that throne with one of his followers, at which point the people are forfeit. Our Lord, known on this world as Worron, has long been the power that kept peace in the reign of the land.”

The eyes of the four guests narrowed, with only a slight bit of understanding.

The elder coughed and then began speaking again, “These Gods war through humans, and the kingship of Takis is the prize.”

Sandor asked, “What do you want of us?”

“You must deliver the true king to the Castle Majestic in Fava, the capitol city of Takis. Once he sits on the throne, our order can protect him, but we have little power on the road.”

Slip said, “It would be more ‘kingly’ if he could protect himself.”

“That is hard to ask,” the elder said and held his hand toward the doorway.

In response to his motion a cart was wheeled into the room. The four were summoned to the side of the carrier to see an infant within.

“It is a long an arduous journey, one that calls for heroes of the greatest order,” the ancient monk said. “And that is why the four, and one other, have been called here.”

From behind them came a strong tone, “I’m here.”

Hawk stood at the door.

“I don’t kill babies,” he informed them.