BOOK TWO

THE HOUSE OF WOLVES

Chapter One: Id-Saqa

At first glance, Id-Saqa seemed like any other harbour city that dotted the Sanland Coast. The residents were mainly poor, with large swaths of slums – mainly containing wooden sacks, tent encampments, and the occasionally brick building long abandoned by any city official. What made the city different however was a large citadel fortress that was positioned on top of a hill. The palace-like structure would look down on the squaller below. Castles like these were more likely to be seen inland in the oasis cities with their magnificent palace complexes and ancient large stone temples.

Id-Saqa happened to sit at the mouth of the Great River, which snaked its way into the desert continent. While other port towns and cities served as gateways to the Sanland, passing through Id-Saqa was the only way into the heart of the Sanlands. As a result, the city saw a lot of trade. Merchants would come and go, and the city officials would charge them a fee to pass through. The Baron and his cronies became incredibly rich due to this, allowing them to build a city within a city. Merchants would occasionally sell things, especially in the commercial district, which conveniently sat between the river and the palace district. However, most merchants would prefer to wait till they sailed inland before selling most if not all their wares. Instead, Id-Saqa's poorer residents relied on keeping passing merchants entertained. The city was said to contain over a thousand taverns, each vying for customers. From cheap booze to more unsavoury exotics, people from across the known world seem to flock to this one city. A bard could make a king’s ransom, a common phrase would say. A bard could easily be mugged too.

Thieves infested the city. Residents of the slums would make their way to the city’s centre hoping to some of the merchant’s goods, whether legitimately taken or not. The city officials knew about this problem and would occasionally crack down on the thievery, but for the most part, they turned a blind eye. After all, Id-Saqa was the only way inland – desert bandits made sure of that. Any crackdown usually involved assaulting the shantytowns that popped up around the city. This would always annoy more honest residents, so the Baron rarely took this method to avoid any sort of uprising.

Besides accommodation and the occasional crime, Id-Saqa had a thriving fishing and farming industry. Not only was the Great River fertile enough to grow large fields of grain, but the southbound stream would bring fish and sea life from other regions.

The sun was beginning to rise as the ship drew near the city harbour. The crew could easily be seen hurriedly preparing for docking. The ship's first mate barked orders, the sound echoing through the air. Sailors scrambled to adjust the ship's rigging, making sure it was ready for arrival. The boat carefully and gently drew closer to the harbour platform. The hull rang like a bell as it slid up against the platform’s wall. The anchor was quickly lowered – the sudden thump on the ocean floor could be heard and felt from anywhere on the ship. Now that the ship was in position, the crew swiftly secured the lines. A gangplank was lowered allowing the ship’s passengers to leave. The ship was too big to pass through the harbour, so travellers and merchants were forced to find other means to journey inland.

Brienne wasn’t too pleased when she found Finneas had sneaked onboard the ship. Finneas decided to break the news to her a few days into the journey. By that point, the ship would be too far to turn back. Six months had passed since King Neco’s coronation, and Finneas recognised the disapproving frown Brienne would make. Finneas knew he had a lot of explaining to do.

“I heard rumours of an elderly Imperial general was spotted in the Sanlands,” Finneas remembered telling his cousin. “I think he might be my father.”

“Just because you heard rumours doesn’t mean you should do something so irrational,” Brienne had scorned him. “The King told you to stay in the Riverlands.”

Brienne was about two years older than Finneas, so it wasn’t surprising she would be so authoritative over him. She reminded him of Mollie, Finneas soon realised. No wonder the two hated each other, he thought. Two cats living in one household would eventually come to clash.

“That’s probably why they’re sending Mollie with Kistoph and Azhem to the Imperial City,” Finneas remembered Tamora uttering not long before boarding the ship.

Finneas missed his friends, especially his younger brother Kenelm. But discovering he could find his father, Finneas quickly made plans to sneak on the boat. He had done it before, travelling to Revitea City, so doing it again didn’t seem too difficult.

Brienne was on a diplomatic mission. King Neco had personally asked Brienne to travel to the Sanlands to talk to the Seven Princes that ruled the continent. The Sanlanders were on more friendly terms with the Republic, and King Neco thought the princes would respect Imperial as an ambassador, especially one of such high rank. Brienne was serving as some sort of vizier position, making sure the day-to-day workings occurred. A few Riverlanders were angry that an Imperial held such a high position in the new king’s court, especially not long after overthrowing Imperial rule. King Neco, however, argued Brienne had been loyal to the resistance and couldn’t think of a better person for the position. Still, there were many people disgruntled at the king’s choice, especially Staphan. The older man was hoping to become Vizier. Instead, Staphan had to deal with being the Master of Coins. However, with Brienne leaving for the Sanlands, he would assume many of the duties Brienne usually would do.

Sebastos didn’t help matters. The Sensor lingered about. No one was sure what his purpose was, especially now the Imperial had been driven out. Because of his association with King Neco, Sebastos couldn’t easily return to the Order, but at the same time, he was trusted by the natives. A large percentage of tapers that made up the Riverlands’ population was still resentful toward anyone who was once a member of their enslavers.

Finneas made his way down the gangplank, following behind Brienne. Because of the blaring heat, Finneas wore a lightly coloured thin shirt over his canvas pants. He wasn’t used to weather like this. It wasn’t the sweaty heat of Revitea either, but a dry heat. Two men who appeared to be city officials waited on the dock. They wore expensive clothes, and both men had large loose golden chains wrapped around their necks. The Sanland was known for its slavery, something that was frowned upon elsewhere in the world besides imprisoning tapers. Whether these men were slaves or not, Finneas couldn’t tell. They did, however, speak authoritatively.

“What brings you to the Sanlands?” one of the men said. “I noticed you’re not travelling with goods.”

“I’m on a diplomatic mission. I’m not here to sell wares,” Brienne said. “I’m to meet your Baron. We then plan to sail inland. Any advice on who to hire to escort us downriver?”

“We’re probably not the best person to ask,” the second official remarked. “But I am sure the Baron will point you in the right direction.”

“What about you friend,” the first official said, pointing to Finneas.

“He’s my…” Brienne began to speak, before pausing.

“I’m here bodyguard,” Finneas interrupted.

The statement sounded absurd. He was still short for his age, and certainly not built like a soldier or something. His friend Kistoph probably would’ve been a better candidate to serve as Brienne’s bodyguard. Finneas had to say something.

“You?” the man sounded perplexed.

“He’s my advisor,” Brienne corrected, even if her statement was contradictory to Finneas. The man didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care. “Here’s the fees,” she said, passing a sack of gold coins to the officials. The men gladly accepted the payment. “For both of us,” Brienne continued, glaring at Finneas.

“This seems to be the right number of coins,” one of the officials said, taking a glance into the bag. “You can be on your way.”

Finneas made sure they weren’t in ears-distance before talking to his cousin.

“I thought they charged by the ship,” Finneas remarked. “Surely they could’ve let us slide.”

“Not all ships can pass into the Great River,” Brienne explained. “They have to find someone ways to make money.”

“Sounds more like extortion.”

“Shush!” Brienne interrupted him. “The Baron has ears everywhere in this town,” she explained. “Who knows who’ll overhear you.”

Finneas remained quiet for the rest of the talk. There would be plentiful time to discuss matters when they reached their accommodation. Although there were many taverns to choose from, Brienne had already decided to stay at a motel situated near the palace district and seaside. She had reasoned they would be less likely to be set upon by thugs, and other undesirables, as she put it.

Wandering down the streetways, Finneas noticed just how labyrinth the city was. Besides the occasional open area for marketplaces, the city consists of maze-like narrow streets with the buildings seemingly placed randomly without concern for the ground elevation. Unlike Angluem or Rivetea, Id-Saqa didn’t have any main road going through the city, making it difficult for anyone unfamiliar with its layout to orientate. Most of the houses were no more than two stories tall, with the occasional building having at least three levels. While the buildings around the markets were decorated with intricate and vibrant tapestries, the moment a person stepped onto one of the backstreets they were welcomed by bland yellowy sun-kissed stone walls.

Along the way, Finneas and Brienne passed what seemed like a temple, although its design seemed unfamiliar. The large square-like structure was covered with colourful mosaics revealing the region's long history. On top of the building was a large circular dome, and the four corners of the temple were tall towers that pierced into the cloudless blue sky. Finneas remembered Tamora explaining the religion of the Sanlands. According to Tamora, the Sanlanders believed the world was created by a storm god and his three wives. Before the god was able to finish the world, his wives were said to have killed their husband, hence explaining an imperfect world. The Sanlanders honour the goddess trio in fear, whilst mourning the death of the male creator. Finneas preferred the simplicity of the Maker. To him, a single creator made more sense.

Finneas heard what seemed like chanting from inside the temple. Finneas had grown accustomed to singing while living in Revitea. Quite often he would be awakened by the sound priest reciting their daily prayer. Like the natives of the Riverlands, Finneas couldn’t understand what the priests were singing about. It seemed Brienne didn’t know either, as she shrugged when Finneas asked. According to Brienne, the language was so old that the priest probably didn’t understand what they were singing about.

Local merchants set up wooden stalls seemingly everywhere, trying to peddle their wares – whether this was vagrants made from local ingredients, clothes made with colourful fabric, to fishermen selling their most recent catch. The scent of spices drifted through the city streets, as chefs cooked exotic meals for passerby travellers. At least one shop sold beautifully designed carpets with complex patterns. One store even sold strange fruits imported from distant lands. The fruits were unfamiliar; one lot of fruits looked like yellow crescent moons, while another had large spiky skin. Finneas wonder how they were able to keep the fruits so fresh, especially in the warm sun.

Finneas was surprised to find the motel was a modest villa overlooking the seafront. Consisting of several single-story buildings, the complex was surrounded by a garden. Trees that didn’t grove in the Sanlands were planted throughout the property. Finneas noticed a few trees that were native to Estmere, such as a grand oak and a bell tree. The motel was closed off from the bustling city by huge walls. It reminded Finneas of the mayor’s house back in Angluem.

Brienne quickly talked to the motel’s owner whilst Finneas stood admiring the place. Brienne was able to book one of the motel’s terrace housing, consisting of two bedrooms along with a kitchen and dining area. Finneas was not used to staying at a place so secluded from the bustling city. Even having to not share a room with anyone seemed strange.

Finneas keenly inspected his room. He noticed the room had a large double bed. He had never used a double bed before, especially sleeping by himself. Leaving the room, he decided to check the room’s porch.

“I wonder what my brother is thinking right now?” Finneas said out loud as he overlooked the beachside. “The last time I left him like that, he followed me. Kenelm better not do that again.”

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He was unaware of Brienne’s presence.

“Like you just did?” she remarked. “You complain about how impulsive your brother is, yet you do the same thing.”

“That’s different,” Finneas remarked. “I’m older.”

“It doesn’t seem like that at times.”

“Hey! What does that mean?”

“Never mind,” Brienne tried to change the conversation. “The owner says there’s a pub nearby. I say we get something to eat before seeing the baron.”

The tavern was over the streets from the villa. The building could easily be mistaken for any other building in the city with its timbered facades adorned with carefully crafted carvings detailing ancient battles. Unlike the temples in Estmere and the Riverlands, the carvings weren’t as old – perhaps a hundred years old at the most.

Finneas opened the heavy wooden door entering the tavern’s main room which consisted of a large room. On one side of the room was a long, polished bar that stretched from one side of the tavern to the other. Behind the bar were shelves containing all sorts of expensive wines and ales. Large tapestry, featuring women that were cladly dressed, covered the windows. Instead, the room’s main light source was a large chandelier placed in the centre of the inn. The chandelier gave to a yellowy hue, enough to lighten the room up but not enough to blind someone – as Azhen would say. Instead of the large wooden tables and chairs that a person would usually expect to see in a tavern, the inn had several low tables with plush cushions scattered around them. Finneas felt weird as he sat down at one of the tables. Even Brienne, who was more worldly than him, didn’t seem all too comfortable. One of the barkeepers approached the two’s table. Brienne, who was better at speaking the Sanland language, ordered Finneas and her meals. Finneas wasn’t sure what exactly she’d ordered, but Brienne assured him he would like it.

As they waited for their meals, Finneas listened to a band performed with traditional instruments. Standing on a raised platform the musicians played songs Finneas was unfamiliar with. The music had strange tuning that seemed to be in a minor key, but Finneas wasn’t too sure. The lute one of the musicians was playing had strange fretting. Finneas remembered seeing instruments like that back in Angluem but never heard anyone play them. The drummer played a hand drum in such a way the tempo felt hypnotic. There was some sort of mysticalness to the tunes that Finneas was intrigued.

Their meals eventually arrived, which Finneas discovered were yak chops, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. The spices used to cook the meal made what usually would be a boring meal seem incredibly tasty. Having finished their meals, Finneas and Brienne decided to stay in the tavern for a little bit longer, listening to the band perform.

The band soon came to the end of their performance. Brienne indicated that it was time to leave the restaurant. Brienne informed Finneas she was appointed to meet the city’s baron in an hour, and she didn’t want to be late.

As Finneas and Brienne were leaving the establishment, Finneas's attention was drawn to two old sailors sitting at one of the tables, each man drinking from large mugs. Both sailors seemed weathered as if they had seen many years. Each man’s salt-stained beard covered their face. They sat casually at the worn wooden table, the surface of which had several crudely drawn graffiti carved most likely with a knife. Both men wear long coats, with various patches made over the long years of usage. The colourful nature of numerous patches could fool something into thinking these men were gleemen. But Finneas knew from experience they probably only knew the odd sea shanty, most likely sung poorly. The men spoke in the common tongue, so Finneas was able to understand what they were saying.

“The world’s gone mad!” the man was overheard saying to his friend. If the man didn’t want people to hear what he had to say, he was doing a terrible job at it, Finneas thought. “First the Riverlands declares independence, then some kid comes along claiming to be a Seer. And now some old Imperial General is claiming to be a god of some sort. Where the chaff has this world gone to?”

“Wasn’t that kid meant to be the governor’s long-lost nephew,” the sailor’s friend replied.

“I see it when I believe it,” the first man remarked. “I served under General Felix.”

It was strange hearing his father’s name being spoken. Although Finneas was warned not to interrupt any conversation he overheard, he knew he had to ask the man.

“I overheard you saying you served with General Felix,” Finneas asked the man.

The man stared blankly at Finneas. He probably wasn’t expecting some random kid to interrupt his conversation. It didn’t help that Finneas was wearing bagging clothing. The man probably thought he was some street urchin begging for coin.

“What’s it to you?” the man said rudely.

“I heard an Imperial general was spotted somewhere here in the Sanlands?” Finneas asked. “I was wondering this was my…” Finneas paused before correcting, “General Felix.”

“Different person,” the man said sharply. “Last I heard he’s travelled north to the Free City. Set up a commune or something. What’s it to you?”

“I’m General Felix’s son.”

“The kid who’s claiming to be the Seer,” the other sailor remarked. “Get outa here. You don’t remotely like some general’s son. Meeza, this kid’s just pulling your leg.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Finneas complained.

“My friends right, you look nothing like the old general,” the first man said. “Now toss off before I call the guards.”

Brienne quickly grabbed Finneas’s shoulder and pulled him away before he caused even more commotion.

“Don’t worry,” Brienne said as they walked away. “I doubt the man even served under your father. He’s a commonfolk; they’re unlikely to serve in the Imperial Army. He didn’t even realise I am the Governor’s daughter.”

The way Brienne said, it sounded as if Malakos was still alive. The two hadn’t talked about the incident at the portal since King Neco’s coronation. Finneas knew Brienne didn’t hold any grudge against what he did. However, he could tell Brienne still felt her father was still alive, ready to return at any point. He sympathised with her – he was doing the same thing, chasing a wild hunt that might not have any ending.

“Just the way the man spoke,” Finneas explained.

“The man was bragging; nothing else,” Brienne reassured him. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You think he’s right about the General… the person rumoured to be here,” Finneas asked. “You don’t think the man isn’t my father.”

“Who knows,” Brienne said. “I haven’t heard of this ‘commune’ yet, whatever that is. It's probably best not to think about it. How about we go back to our accommodation.”

As they left the building, a bell began to ring. The sound seemed to come from the temple they saw earlier. In contrast to the natives of the Estmere and the Riverlands, who usually prayed in private, the Sanland worshipped their goddesses by praying in public. The bell notified people of the midday prayer.

Finneas and Brienne were distracted by the sound of the bell when a street urchin approached them. The kid was probably a few years younger than Finneas, perhaps Kenelm’s age. Finneas was able to get a good glance at the boy, his dark sun-scorched face revealing him to be a Sanlander. The kid was dressed in a large and tattered coat made from a patchwork of faded fabrics. Although made for a full-grown adult, the garment went down to the boy’s knees. The coat was once vibrant, but the desert sun had caused it to turn to muted hues of orange and brown. The boy kept the coat open, revealing a sleeveless shirt underneath. A worn scarf covered his head, shielding the boy from the relentless heat. The urchin’s crudely cut short hair seemed to be covered with dirt and sand as if he’d never washed or even touched water.

The boy casually bumped into Brienne, as if it was an accident. The boy seemingly apologized before walking away. Finneas glanced as the boy walked at a leisurely pace. It didn’t take long for Brienne to speak.

“That tyke stole my wallet,” she said, searching her pockets.

Without a second thought, Finneas took chase after the street urchin. The thief now seemed to be aware Finneas was chasing him and darted off down the street.

When he was living in Angluem, not only was Finneas a good climber but he was also a good runner. Whenever a bully attempted to pick on Finneas, and Kistoph wasn’t there to wallop the other kid, Finneas would often resort to running. A combination of speed and climbing of fence into back alleys usually shocked off any potential chasers. Kistoph used to joke that Finneas was probably the faster runner in the world. While this statement wasn’t true, Finneas was probably the fastest kid at least in the city. Chasing after the street urchin, Finneas finally felt he’d found his match.

Finneas struggled to keep up as the thief erratically darted down the cobblestone street. The thief took a sudden left turn down a tight alleyway. Not wanting to lose track of the kid, Finneas sprinted down the same alleyway. The street thief zoomed passed an elderly woman sweeping outside, almost knocking her over. Finneas made sure to avoid the woman, instead yelling “sorry” as he passed. The thief then unexpectedly leapt through a doorway in the back of a store. Again, Finneas followed. He found himself running through a bakery. The shopkeeper yelled as he slammed his fist onto a ball of dough. Again, Finneas quickly apologised, although he wasn’t sure the man could hear him as he sprinted through the store.

The bakery exited onto one of the city’s many large marketplaces. Thirty or more wooden stalls were set up across the open space selling various types of wares. The thief was already halfway across the marketplace. The boy frog-jumped over a bunch of pots. Finneas wasn’t so elegant. He managed to knock over a few pots as he charged through the shopkeeper’s stall. A man wearing an apron, most likely the pot maker, yelled angrily. Finneas again apologised, before continuing the chase.

The thief was beginning to slow down. As the kid made a mad dash towards one of the side streets connected to the marketplace, Finneas managed to get close enough to grab hold of the urchin’s oversized coat. A struggle ensued as the younger boy tried to pull away from Finneas’s grip. A small crowd of onlookers were observing as Finneas tried to keep hold of the younger boy.

“Hand over what you’ve stolen!” Finneas yelled.

“Nah, not going to happen!” the thief replied. Finneas was surprised the boy could speak the common tongue.

The thief suddenly punched Finneas in the guts, briefly stunning Finneas. Feeling out of breath, Finneas leant over for a moment. This unfortunately gave the kid ample time to get away. The chase continued as the thief skirted around the corner. Finneas followed but was stopped after walking into someone. Finneas was able to regain his footing, but the other person managed to fall over. Although Finneas was going to keep chasing the thief, he recognised a person he had knocked over.

“Teller?” Finneas exclaimed.

“Finneas?” the younger boy seemed just as perplexed, looking up at Finneas.

Although he was annoyed at not catching the thief, seeing his brother’s friend startled Finneas. He felt both mystified and enraged. Finneas grabbed hold of Teller’s arm, pulling the boy back onto his feet. Teller was still wearing his old dungarees, although he at least had removed his undershirt due to the blazing heat of the sun. The past few months Teller had insisted on cutting his chestnut hair shorter. Despite that, his hair was starting to grow back. Teller stared intensely, seemingly unsure whether to make a run for it or explain his situation. Finneas certainly wanted answers.

“Why are you here?” Finneas asked. A few days before sneaking on the boat, Finneas was certain he heard King Neco mention something about Teller and Mollie going with Kistoph to the Imperial City. This didn’t happen, it appeared.

Teller didn’t answer, not at first.

“I was going ask the same thing,” Teller finally responded. “Is Kenelm with you?”

“Of course not,” Finneas explained. “It’s too dangerous.”

“What? And not for you?”

“I’m older.”

“Only by two years,” Teller responded. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

Despite being irritated, especially since he was meant to be asking the questions, Finneas decided to explain to Teller the truth.

“Me and Kenelm’s dad… he was spotted in these lands a few weeks ago?” Finneas justified himself.

“Felix… that’s what his name was?” Teller remarked. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“I overheard some sailors back in Revitea talk about him,” Finneas explained. “And I read a report that was left on Staphan’s desk.”

“Report?” Teller sounded unsure. “I think I read that. It said that someone spotted an old Imperial general once thought missing in Ik-Dehib.”

“Yeah, that’s the place.”

“You do realise it said nothing about the general being your father,” Teller critiqued Finneas’s actions. “If it was him, wouldn’t you expect the king to send people out to investigate it? He did say he was going to look into it?”

“Of course he did,” Finneas responded. “I just… you know… couldn’t wait.”

“You’re just as impulsive as your brother.”

“Am not!” Finneas said. He hated how often he’d be compared to his younger brother. “I’m the impulsive one? You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“I had good reasons to come here,” Teller explained.

“You sneaked on board like me!”

“Yes… I did sneak aboard,” Teller continued to explain. “But I did a better job at hiding.”

“Come one, get to the point.”

“I’m looking for a book,” Teller finally explained.

“A book?” Finneas was rather confused. Teller had the chance to travel to the Imperial City and explore its large library. The Sanlands was the last place to find a book.

“It’s an important book,” Teller continued. “A few days before Brienne was about to leave, I was sorting through the palace library. I noticed one book was missing from the list.”

“Books come and go all the time,” Finneas said. “Surely it’s not that important.”

“The book was loaned out a few days before we arrived in the Riverlands, six months ago.”

“So?”

“A sensor took the book out and sailed to the Sanlands,” Teller explained. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“No…”

“Seriously, you didn’t do any research before coming to this land,” Teller complained.

“You know I’m not the biggest reader,” Finneas responded.

“To keep things simple, magic is rarely used here,” Teller explained. “Manna for some strange reason doesn’t naturally produce here. As a result, the Sanlanders don’t rely on magic at all.”

“And this to do with this book, why?”

“The book is a report on the usage of magic,” Teller continued to explain. “If magic is running out, why travel to the one place where magic doesn’t exist?”

“I’m not too sure if I get your point, but I think it’s time we got back to Brienne,” Finneas told the younger boy. “Not sure how she’s going to react seeing you here.”

Finneas carefully retraced his steps. There was no point going after the thief who had stolen Brienne’s wallet. Whoever he was, the kid was long gone. In a city as large as Id-Saqa, there was no way Finneas was going to be able to recover the stolen goods. Teller followed from behind, not uttering a word. Finneas used the large palace structure to guide his way back to the motel. He made a concerted effort not to walk through the large marketplace. Finneas didn’t want to address the accident of breaking those pots. He remembered the potter back in Angluem, and how labour-intensive it was to make them. Finneas couldn’t image how much money the shopkeeper was selling them for.

Passing the temple that he saw earlier; Finneas knew he was going in the correct direction. They finally reached the spot where Brienne was mugged. To Finneas’s surprise, Brienne wasn’t there. He looked around the street, hoping to find her. There weren’t many people outside the restaurant, so Finneas was unsure where she could be hiding.

“Are you sure you left her here?” Teller asked.

“She was here only a moment ago,” Finneas said. “I was only, like, fifteen minutes away. She can’t have gone that far.”

Finneas was about to check the restaurant to see if Brienne had returned there; when he heard someone call out his name.

“Finneas, son of Felix,” a voice called out.

Finneas recognised the voice. He froze for a moment, before turning around to face the person. It was the last person he wanted nor expected to find in such a distant land.

“Lucien?”