Warrior Prime (Ink Mage Legacy) by Victor Gischler

Author:Victor Gischler [Gischler, Victor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542091466
Published: 2019-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

Ropes flew from the barges, and men along the docks caught them, hauling the vessels close. Activity erupted immediately. Supplies needed for the desert trek would be unloaded, additional food and water purchased.

None of these tasks concerned Meddigar. He was down the gangplank immediately after it was lowered, Hak following in his wake.

They wove their way through the city to a quiet street between the Scholar’s Quarter and a neighborhood of craftsmen. A simple wooden sign hung from a bracket over the cartographer’s door, a stylized image of the four points of a compass as if from a map.

Meddigar knocked.

A few seconds later, a young woman answered the door, pretty, dressed too well to be a servant, long black hair held back from a heart-shaped face with turquoise hairpins. “You wish to see the cartographer?”

“Yes, please.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m afraid not. Tell him it’s Meddigar. I’m sure he won’t mind seeing me.”

The woman’s eyes lit with recognition. “Your name is known to me. Please come wait in the foyer. I’ll see if he’s available.”

She ushered them inside and closed the door. “Sit if you like. I’ll just be a moment.” She took a wide, sweeping stairway up to the next level.

Meddigar considered the chairs but remained standing. A minute stretched to five and then to ten.

“Perhaps he’s not as agreeable to seeing you as you think,” Hak suggested.

Perhaps you can go fuck yourself. “Have patience.”

A few seconds later, the woman came back down the stairs and signaled for them to follow. “This way if you please.”

On the second floor, she took them down a long hall to the door at the end, opened it, and indicated they should enter. Hak had to duck his head going through the doorway.

This was clearly the cartographer’s work area, tables and shelves filled with scrolls and papers. The space was well lit, tall windows in three of the four walls. Between two windows on the far wall hung a handsomely framed map of the known world . . . or at least the known world a few hundred years ago. To Meddigar’s eyes, the map seemed very old.

“The work of my great-great-great-great grandfather,” said the old man bent over the drafting table. He turned in his seat to face the wizard, bone thin, bald head speckled with brown spots, white sideburns that dipped to his chin and curved back up again to join with his moustache. “It nearly ruined him.”

Meddigar raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“A king from a long-forgotten kingdom,” the cartographer said. “He commissioned the most accurate map of the known world and was willing to pay good gold for it. An arrogant and evil soul who fancied himself a conqueror. But difficult to conquer the world if you’re not quite sure what all’s in it.”

“Thus the map,” Meddigar said.

“Thus the map,” echoed the cartographer. “My ancestor spent a small fortune sending ships in every direction to confirm certain landmarks. He traveled himself for a year to some of the farthest points on the map.

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