(eng) M. R. Mathias - Vanx Malic 1-4 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Don’t pass through the frigid gate,

there is nothing North to see.

Stick to the docks and mind your cocks,

or frozen you will be.

– a sailors song

Apparently, in the night a ship came in, for the next afternoon two Parydonians separately joined the group. The first was named Brody. He was at that mature age for humans where knowledge and experience combined with grit and muscle to elevate a man to his best. Vanx mused on this because this was also the time just before life slowly started taking it all back from men. Brody had the short-cropped hair of a serviceman. It had turned gray over his ears and gone completely from the top of his head. He said he’d put in twenty years with the Parydon Isle Archer Corps and could handle a great-bow all by himself.

Vanx liked his confidence immediately. Brody reminded him of an older version of another Parydonian he knew named Trevin. Trevin was soon to marry Princess Gallarael and assume the title Duke of Highlake. He would probably relish the opportunity to get away from all the pomp and ceremony to which he must now be subjected. Too far away, Vanx mused. If Brody was only half as loyal and brave as Trevin, he would serve the party well. Vanx was pleased by the way he inserted himself into the group and started sizing up the others.

The other Parydonian called himself Smythe, but Vanx was certain it wasn’t his real name. Smythe had shifty eyes and a suspicious air about him, as if he were an escaped slave or an untried criminal. Vanx could relate to both situations well enough. He tried not to pass judgment. Smythe just wanted enough gold to buy himself passage to Harthgar. Vanx assured him that as long as he did the work given him on the hunt, he would help him get to Harthgar, even if they didn’t succeed in killing a shrew.

Smythe appeared fit. He boasted no great skill as an archer or swordsman. He said he’d been hunting since his youth. He also said he could climb exceptionally well on rock. He’d never actually tried to scale an ice cliff, but was willing to try, if it was necessary.

According to Endell, that only left them lacking one key member to complete the party.

“Sure we could hire half a dozen more archers and an axe man or two, but what we really need is a mage,” Endell told them as he tilted his sixth mug of the afternoon.

Vanx was counting.

It was a lot for most men, but Endell’s eyes were as clear as his speech. “A mage can help us cross questionable expanses of loose snow, or warn us if a flock of frost-wings is near.”

While staying in Orendyn, Vanx had learned that frost-wings ruled the sky out over the tundra. The great bluish-white birds were hard to spot, but since they had a bit of naturally occurring magic about them, a good mage could sense them from a great distance.

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