Westhaven by Rowan Erlking (ebook audio reader .txt) 📖

“We have no business to discuss beyond the acquisition of swords. But would like to report to Key that I did as he asked. We have started our reading lessons among the refugees in return for saving my son.”

That made Key smile. He nodded to the Wendora patriarch.

Pattron looked from Ollev to Key and blinked, drawing in a breath as Bredin Sefesher stood up.

“Is it my turn now?” Bredin asked giving Sadena a tentative look, this time making sure he did not offend her.

Lady Sadena sighed with a nod. “Yes. What is the request of those at Stiltson?”

Rising, Bredin looked directly at Key. “You are the Bekir smith?”

Key nodded. “His heir. I haven’t been on the lake in a long time.”

The men from the Wede Mountains drew in breaths, whispering among themselves as they ducked their heads down. The two from Roan nodded to the others. Their words hissed low in their corner. Those around them in the council turned to look. Nearly one by one, the others of the council drew in longsuffering breaths, attempting to ignore the whispers—though the Stiltson man nodded to himself, his eyes still fixed on Key.

“I also heard a rumor that you have insight on military operations,” Bredin said, examining Key’s somewhat sweaty and dust-covered face. His eyes turning to Key’s patchy brown-and-white hair.

Leaning forward, Key inspected the look on the man’s face. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Bredin glanced at Ollev first before saying, “What do you know of Stiltson City?”

Key drew in a breath, glanced at Callen, Luis, and the Herra men; then said with care, “I only know what I overheard in conversations with the general and his subordinates. I’ve been to Stiltson only once. What I remember of it was all that smelly water between those houses and that bay. I’ve seen a map of the city when I was in Roan, but I was not allowed to look at it long. I remember seeing that it opens into the Rocky Sea where the Sky Lord’s island is—but that’s about it.”

The Stiltson man leaned back from the table with disappointment. He gazed at Key as if his one hope had slipped from his grasp. “Is that really all you know? Not even names of people we ought to be aware of?”

Heaving a tired sigh, Key tilted his head as he thought. “The Sky Child over the area should be Captain Tousen. He ought to work closely with Captain Welsin who took over the eastern area after General Winstrong. His post was somewhere near the inland outskirts the last time I was there. Um….”

“How well do you know Captain Tousen?” Bredin asked, leaning forward on the table with his hands as if he needed it to support him against a serious blow in case Key knew nothing.

Scratching his head, Key tried to think back to the man who had sent the general telegrams on a regular basis. He had seen some of them, though most of them were pretty dull. He had met Captain Tousen only twice himself. Both times he looked unremarkable. Captain Tousen was just another blue-eye to him. In fact, now that he thought about it, the general himself had mentioned to his driver on a number of occasions how tiresome the captain of the Stiltson post was. Unimaginative.

“Not a whole lot. General Winstrong thought he was a boor.” Key sighed and looked up. “You really just ought to get a wizard to bring in a fog and raid their files. Then flood the place so they don’t know you stole anything vital.”

Bredin blinked at him. “What?”

“I know a good wizard for that too.” Key then looked over at Telerd. “Do you think Soin would be willing to travel from Kalsworth to help them out in Stiltson?”

“Hold on.” Bredin looked to Telerd. “You know a wizard? You didn’t say anything about that.”

Telerd just shrugged as if the details didn’t matter to him. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked about the Bekir smith, not about hiring a wizard.”

Drawing himself up, Bredin took in a deep breath. “Fine. Let me be clear then. I need help dealing with the military forces in Stiltson City. Now you just proposed a plan where I can use a wizard to raid their post. But how do I fend off their magic sticks?”

Key waved over to General Dalis. “Speak with him. He’s in charge of our gunmen. You can either hire the soldiers he has already trained, or you can send men to Dalis to be trained. That will equal out the odds.”

“And the swords we need?” Bredin was now staring contemplatively at Key’s face.

Nodding, Key pointed to the paper that Lowman now had and was writing out his long list with details. “Write it there.”

“But,” Bredin glanced at the sheet. “My writing skills are—”

Key sighed aloud. “Telerd can write. You tell him what you want, and he’ll write it for you. Anything else?”

Bredin nodded slowly, his eyes still on the young man’s face. “Yes. One more. Who are you?”

Telerd broke into snickers.

Key scowled at Telered like he wanted to throw something at his old friend. He grabbed the poster for Loid/Tiler and crumpled it up, chucking it hard to hit him.

“Boys! Please!” Sadena rose, glaring at the pair of them as if they were still very young.

Telerd picked up the crumpled poster, ducking his head with a smirk. Key still glared at him though.

Sadena fixed her eyes on Key. “Tell him. I’m sure most of the guests here are curious by now. And it is high time we show a little more trust.”

There was little to say against that. Key knew from all the staring eyes that most of the newcomers were anxious as to why he at is youth, was regarded as someone to be reckoned with beyond just a swordsmith. Rising slowly, Key pushed from the stool and drew in a breath to look each of the visitors in the eye, giving Pattron a slightly cold gaze before saying to Bredin Sefesher, “My name is Kemdin Smith, but everyone here knows me as Key.”

Their reaction was something to Key’s satisfaction. He didn’t know why it satisfied him so much to see it—but when Pattron’s eyes opened wider and Ollev lifted his chin with a smug look as the five men from the Wede Mountains all shared a mutual expression of amazement and amusement (though the Roan men nodded), Key no longer felt so used as he normally did. In a way, he felt important. Only Bredin sighed as if all his suspicions had been met.

“The infamous Key,” Loid Darmoth from Danslik murmured, grinning.

“Of course,” muttered Pattron, gritting his teeth. His eyes closed as if he had formed a headache. “Which was why he was answering me.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Key asked the Stiltson man, ignoring Pattron’s personal humiliation. Key was already tired, and he hadn’t even gotten to his own business yet.

Bowing, Bredin exhaled with a calmer look. “Perhaps we can talk privately after the meeting. I have a proposition to discuss with you.”

 Callen rose. “We prefer that Key not take on private jobs anymore.”

The guests looked up at the man, then at Key who rested his hand against his right temple to rub it.

“Agreed,” Luis chimed in.

Almost like a waterfall, the sentiments of the Herra men and Telerd cascaded in murmurs that they’d rather have Key stay where they knew where he was so he could dedicate his time to making swords. Sadena nodded in agreement, though Edman peered at Key as each new voice chimed in.

“There is already a price on his head because of the last private trip,” Luis added.

Ollev averted his eyes, pretending it had nothing to do with him. No one really noticed, so he needed not to have bothered.

But Bredin lifted his eyes to Callen with that solemn stare of his. It spoke of a number of woes without words. “It is nothing as reckless as a prison break. I will even provide the best protection as he travels with us. But I would like it if he came to Stiltson.”

“I knew it,” Telerd muttered, looking likely to kick Bredin now rather than deal with him.

Callen glanced to Key who had sat back down in his seat, leaning his elbow on the table again as if it really didn’t matter what he thought.  “What do you say? You will have all those sword orders to fill.”

Key glanced up with a smirk. “Are you kidding? Most of the hidden swords are now being made by the men I trained in Westerlund. They don’t really need me for that. And, like I said, Stiltson is the city on the bay that opens to the Rocky Sea, the main port for the Sky Children. It’s actually rather important, more than Calcumum. If we can control Stiltson we can stop the flood of blue-eyed Sky Children coming in from the island. So, yeah, I’ll go.”

Callen frowned. His eyes were already saying Key had not responded as he had liked. “But it is a big city where your face—”

Snorting, Key tapped the wanted poster for Callen. “You know full well the picture doesn’t look anything like me.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t your hair be a clear giveaway?” one of the men from Roan asked, the one Key recalled was named Steben.

Key turned to look at him. “Do I know you?”

With a shake of his head Steban gave a weak, yet sure look at Key’s hair. “It is doubtful, though I know you—perhaps better than most of the men here. The last time I saw you, you were walking with a certain general with irons on your ankles.”

Telerd rose with a jerk, his hand set on his sword hilt.

The Herra men also were up, as were Luis and Callen, all of them automatically fierce with suspicion.

Steban leaned back. He glanced to his comrades with a secret look. “Or maybe they do know you well.”

The other Roan man, the one named Losen, leaned forward. “So you all know he used to be the property of General Gailert Winstrong?”

“We are full aware, Mr. Ruban,” Lady Sadena replied letting her heavy gaze fall on him.

The men of the Wede Mountains nodded. Their eyes turned to Key once more.

The leader of the group, Nemen Rais, stood, bowing to Lady Sadena. “Then please pardon us. We merely recognized him for who he once was, understanding the difficulties and trouble being that demon’s slave constitutes. And if we may, we would still like to express our needs despite this disturbing revelation.”

Sadena glanced to Key who just shrugged, waiting to see what they wanted from their council. Whatever they were disturbed or disappointed about was irrelevant to him. The expectations of others had never stopped him from being who he was.

“Our needs for weaponry we will write as requested,” Nemen said. “What we have come for besides that…well, we had heard from your hired sword, Luis, about the programs for collaboration to acquire the magic of the blue-eyes. In fact, we had heard that this mythic Key had connections into the magic of the blue-eyes that no one else seems to have. However seeing the actual Key is merely the former slave of the demon general it is quite clear that the rumors cannot possibly be true. Our apologies.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Sadena asked, gently tilting her head as she peered at them. Her usual serene face actually looked cross with surprise.

Looking towards Key, Nemen from Marchal City said, “We just can’t conceive of how this mere escaped slave, swordsmithy or not, could have the answers we are seeking. All the rumors, even among the blue-eyes, are that this Key was some sort of skilled general. Even General Gole is said to be afraid of him. Looking at you here, I can’t even imagine that. I remember seeing him beat you.”

Key blinked, choking even as he leaned forward to look at Nemen clearly. “He…he what?”

“Your reputation is larger than life,” Nemen replied, passing a