The port city of Sheran, to their great surprise, was largely unchanged. Well, only Taiki and Leonov had been there before, but even Falynn and Roni could see that much of it was normal, as far as cities went. There were more guards, not to mention a variety of them, along the border and at the gates of the city proper, but the citizens still walked about as if they weren’t at war. To see it now, you’d think that Milagre wasn’t in enemy hands now.
“Why are they acting so normal?” Taiki asked, surveying the streets around them. “They should be more on edge with what’s happened.”
“I don’t think they fear attack,” Leonov guessed. “Not that they need to, of course.”
“What do you mean?” Falynn asked, tearing her eyes away from the colorful display of a nearby vendor’s tent. “Wouldn’t they want to attack the port if they really wanted to take over the country?”
Leonov twisted his mouth into a thoughtful frown. “I don’t think that’s their goal. Remember, they called Milagre by a different name. I think that’s all they were interested in.”
Falynn still looked doubtful, but it was Taiki that offered the first real counterpoint. “But so much trade comes through Sheran. Surely they’d want to take this city if the goal was to get stronger? You need supplies to survive.”
Leonov shook his head definitively. “Sheran doesn’t hold the supplies for long. There’s a lot of storage in the city, sure, but all the truly valuable items are either on the ships that brought them or already in transit. If an enemy attacked from land, the ships can just take the loot with them. If they attack by water, there are magical defenses in place, and storm mages who can disrupt or destroy enemy ships.”
It wasn’t exactly common knowledge. He only knew these facts because of his time as a Soldier of Attos. When they’d discussed options for invading Tyrman, Sheran had been dismissed out of hand. No country had magical power like Tyrman, and they couldn’t defend against the slaughter of hundreds of storm mages defending the harbor. Landing just west of the Jyrok cliffs had given them a safe and relatively invisible landing from which to attack the heart of the nation directly.
“Okay, but even if they can quickly get most of the loot out, you can still get some if you attack,” Roni pointed out. “If you had enough men, you could overwhelm the defenses on the land side of the city and take what you wanted, right?”
It was a solid point, Leonov had to admit, especially coming from someone who’d spent none of her years involved in the scheming of war. But it was also wrong. “They don’t have nearly enough men. Milagre was easier to take because they were able to get in its center and destroy the palace. Here, they’d have no choice but to approach from outside, and they can’t possibly have enough.”
“How do you know how many of them there are?” Taiki asked, frowning. “There’s been no news of their number.”
Now Leonov did hesitate. It was the point he was least certain of. “It’s a guess.”
They were all wide-eyed and curious, so he elaborated, “Remember when they said that Issho-Ni had mostly survived the assault? And that none of the civilians had been harmed?”
They all nodded confirmation. Taiki had a connection to the organization, even if it was a small one, and had learned that news from another member who had been visiting Shallow Brook on assignment. “They were too busy getting the civilians out of the city safely.”
Leonov nodded in his own turn. “Yes, but I also think that they couldn’t fully disable Issho-Ni, so they can’t be that strong in number.”
“Definitely strong in power,” Roni said. “If they could destroy the palace and kill the Queen.”
“I’m surprised that Lord Bragg couldn’t stop them,” Taiki commented. “He’s probably the strongest mage in existence.”
“He’s also tied to Issho-Ni,” Leonov countered, “So he’s probably helping with that. Once the citizens are safe, I imagine he’ll take the city back.”
“So it’s a matter of waiting,” Taiki said, and they all nodded, heartened by the thought that the Archmage would soon settle matters. “In the meantime, we should work on doing what we can.”
“That’s why we came to Sheran,” Falynn said. “With Milagre gone, the best place to get gear is here.”
“Good idea,” Leonov agreed. “This would be my first stop.”
He’d gestured to one of the buildings of the Market District, tucked just far enough away from the area with food to avoid the scent and sound of the forge from disrupting business. It was a good blacksmith, the very same that had sold him his current equipment when he’d first arrived. Roni let out a sigh. “Alright. But after this, I want to get something from an apothecary.”
They nodded and followed Leonov as he stepped into the shop. It looked perfectly ordinary as far as shops for weapons and armor went. Several mannequins lined one wall, wearing a variety of armors from light leather to heavy, fully-covering plate. Taiki was interested at once in a set of plate mail with arcane runes etched onto its surface. Leonov paid them no mind, instead turning to the opposite wall, where a whole plethora of weapons was hanging, each polished to a beautiful reflective sheen.
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“Not much to choose from,” Leonov said quietly. They understood what he meant. There were many gaps in the display, where weapons had previously hung. More than three-quarters of the wall was bare, leaving only expensive-looking weapons. He turned to the man behind the counter at the back. “Master Fulkerson, what’s happened to your stock?”
The man behind the counter, who’d been reading a thick book with spectacles perched on his long nose, looked up. He had to squint to see them properly, a clear indicator of his age and closed the book he was reading. “The military’s bought most of my equipment, young man. Do you not know the state of the country at this very moment?”
If Leonov was offended by the brusque reply, he showed no sign. He simply nodded. “I do know. It’s the same reason that I’m here.”
“Well, if you know, then you’ll understand that you’re late,” the older man said. He paced out from around the corner with a slight limp in his walk and supporting himself on one side with a cane. “All I have left is the very best of my craft, and the more exotic weapons that the Maravino won’t be interested in.”
“Is your son working on more, then?”
“Ja, Gundar is working the forge day and night,” The man said. “But for each piece he makes, the Maravino buys it, and orders another. I fear the boy will collapse, and I’ll not add more to his docket.”
Leonov nodded his understanding. He came from a family of farmers and knew the toll that serving the crown of the nation could put on a man. As a boy, before he’d been of military age, he’d spent his days tilling the fields without rest, just to make sure they could offer enough to support their nation. It had been hard work, but it was also their highest honor, and the respect their family earned from the service had been more than enough of a reward.
“I’ll not burden you with a custom request,” Leonov assured him. “But I know you have some reputation as a magical smith. Will you accept an order for an enchantment?”
“Hmm,” the old man peered at Leonov closely, taking in his appearance from head to toe. He stared at the amulet of Attos for several long seconds before replying, “Are you enlisted, boy?”
“I am not. I completed my service a year ago next month. I am a free man, earning coin by working with my weapon.”
“A noble choice,” the blacksmith replied, offering him a slight smile. “But if you’re looking for magic, I suggest you visit the Mage’s College. They have a foothold in this city, and they offer enchanting services.”
“I don’t care for the mages who know nothing of war, or of the tools that are needed for it.”
The blacksmith, who’d begun to turn away to return to the counter, now whipped around with surprising speed, glaring suspiciously at him. His very personality changed in that moment, and he stepped intrusively close to Leonov’s face. “Are ye planning to go to war again? Do you know what you ask of me, as a Welsik smith?”
Leonov, sparing only half a glance for the others, reached into the pouch at his belt, and put a gold coin into the man’s hand. It wasn’t a normal coin, they could plainly see. For one, it didn’t bear the mark of the royal family or the queen’s face. It was imprinted with a clenched fist. They’d never seen a coin like it, but, judging by the reaction of the blacksmith, it seemed important. The man had gone pale and took a half-step back in shock.
“You can’t be serious about that, boy,” he said, his voice shaky. “A debt marker is no small matter. If you make that covenant-”
“I know the risks,” Leonov said firmly. He held the coin out again. “Take it. If you cannot call it, then give it to your son. I imagine he could put it to some use.”
“What makes you think I won’t sell it?” The blacksmith asked. “These things are valuable, you know.”
“I’ll take the chance,” Leonov said, still holding the coin out. “Take it, and take my request.”
The man put one shaky hand to his forehead, considering the option before him. The others could only watch on in silent confusion and shock, wondering what was so important about the coin that could leave the man so nervous. But finally, after a long moment of hesitation, the blacksmith reached out with one hand and took the coin.
“It is done,” Leonov said. He drew the sword from his waist and held it out as well. The blacksmith accepted that with much less hesitation. “I want a Spellrender. Not as powerful as the original, because I cannot fulfill that request. As strong as you can make.”
“Liebe gotter, boy, you’re taking on a great chance for a sword. But I’ll make it. Come back tomorrow and get it. In the meantime, you can use this.”
He snatched a sword at random from the wall and peered down its length critically before handing it over. “I imagine that’ll suit.”
Leonov slid the blade into his sheath. It fit perfectly. “Thank you, Master Smith. I’ll return tomorrow.”
The blacksmith hobbled back to his counter without another word, waving them away. Leonov turned to the others, offering no comment or explanation. “Right. Let’s get to the apothecary, then.”
They didn’t move. They continued to look between him and the blacksmith for several long seconds. He didn’t feel like getting into it just yet, so he made his way to the door. Eventually, they did follow, catching up to him a minute or two later, still pale. They looked worried now.
“What did you offer that man,” Falynn asked, “He didn’t seem pleased.”
“He’ll be pleased in time,” Leonov said. “It was a debt marker.”
“I thought those were a myth,” Taiki commented. “Does he really have the right to ask you for anything now?”
“Anything but my life,” Leonov agreed with a nod. “As long as it’s of the same value as his service to me.”
“But that’s so dangerous,” Falynn gasped. “What if he asks you to kill someone?”
“Then I’ll kill whomever he asks,” Leonov replied, untroubled. “That’s how the marker works.”
Falynn opened her mouth to ask another question, but he held up one hand to stop her. “Leave it, Falynn.”
His voice was so firm, with an unmistakable bite of authority, that she fell silent, flushing slightly. He let out a long sigh. “We’ll visit the apothecary now. After we’re done, I suggest we stay at an inn. They have excellent bathhouses near the dock. Taiki and I will bathe while you two do the same. We could do with some rest and relaxation.”
Taiki turned quickly to face him, their eyes narrowed. “Why would I bathe with you? I’m a woman.”
Falynn, who’d just paused to take a drink of water from her canteen, spit the liquid out, and coughed. “What? You’re a woman?”
“Of course,” Taiki said, frowning at them. “I’m not a very feminine person, but I am female. Did you all think I was a man?”
Their expressions seemed to indicate that they had. Shaking her head, she pushed forward, leading the group now. The others followed, lost in their own thoughts of confusion. None of them were more thrown than Falynn, however. She had much to think about in the days to come.