The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

but I am shocked to see such dearth of hospitality,” she said hotly. “You claim to know this man, but I call that a lie. If you were aware of half the deeds he has done in his life—deeds that directly served this land and your laws, I might add–you would throw your gates wide before him and summon an honor guard to escort him through your streets.”

Now it was the guards’ turn to look shocked. But before they could reply, Albern lifted his hand. A sudden fit of giggling had taken him, and he could barely restrain it. His face had gone red, and his eyes watered as his chest jerked with silent laughter.

“Friends, please,” he choked out. “There is no need for such posturing on my account. Beilin, you and your companion are welcome to search our things. We have nothing to hide from two upstanding servants of Dorsea’s laws.”

Sun stared at him. “But they—”

“They are only doing their best to protect their home,” said Albern, still chuckling. “That is their duty. You and I know our intentions in Bertram, and they are not dishonorable. Why, then, should we fear for anyone to question us?”

Sun, in fact, knew nothing of Albern’s intentions here, but she was wise enough not to say so. The guards had subsided after their indignation towards Sun. Beilin turned and spat again.

“Get your dark-damned selves in,” she said in a disgruntled tone. “But you had best not set one foot out of line, either of you. Rest assured that we will watch you while you are here.”

“You always do,” said Albern. “We thank you for your service. And send my regards to Captain Stockton, if he still serves the city. It has been long since he and I have spoken over cups, and I might take the opportunity while I am here.”

The guards pointedly ignored him, having already moved on to the next in line who wished to enter the gate. Albern and Sun walked their horses through, and then they were in Bertram.

Sun found a smile leaping to her face at the noise of it, the smell, the bustle and the chaos all around. She had always been enamored of a city’s frenzy. The press of people went about their lives, each of them caring only for their own affairs and not a whit for those around them. Yet there was an identity to a city. A shopkeeper might not know the tanner she passed in the street, but if an outsider insulted their home, they would unite in an instant against the offender. And as soon as the fight had finished, each would likely forget the other’s existence again.

It should have been alienating, but Sun had always found it comforting. Back home, cities gave her a rare chance to feel normal, and in them, no one gave her undue attention because of her birth.

She forced her mind back to the present. “It was clever of you to mention the guard captain,” she told Albern. “But I still think you should have boxed their ears for the way they spoke to you.”

“I spoke the truth,” said Albern. “They were only doing their jobs. I have no doubt the King’s law will be keeping a close eye on me while I am in Bertram, but I have grown accustomed to it, and it no longer bothers me.”

Sun frowned. “Would that I had your calm.”

Her mind drifted back to her parents, and the street seemed to narrow around her. She hunched her shoulders and pulled up the hood of her cloak, wary of being recognized. Albern saw it, and his smile weakened.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “I did not mean to call your mind back to troubling matters. But come. Your hood is up, and I doubt they are looking for me. I will continue the tale to keep you distracted while I tend to my business. I mean to introduce you to an old friend—one who owes me quite a bit of coin.”

The next day, we left the lands around Huzen and made for Taitou, where we had met Kun and his Mystics. We pressed the horses hard and reached the east gate the next day.

We were not surprised to find it even more heavily guarded than last time. Four Mystics stood watch, instead of the two we had encountered before. As we stopped before the gate, one of the Mystics hailed us with a shout. He was an imposing, older man with a frankly magnificent mustache.

“Who are you, and what business have you in Taitou?” he asked in a gruff bark.

“We are friends to the King’s law!” I said. “When last we were here, we spoke to your captain, an honorable man named Kun of the family Zhou. We would speak with him again.”

The Mystics looked at each other, and then the older one spoke again. “You would, would you? And why would he speak with you?”

Dryleaf spoke then, in the clarion voice of a bard. He was so often soft-spoken that it was easy to forget the power of his oratory. I would not have been surprised to hear him project his voice through a stone wall two paces thick.

“We can only imagine the burden upon Captain Zhou, now that Dorsea is in open war,” he called up. “But we have come to lessen that burden. We are all servants of the High King, and her peace is threatened across Underrealm. Kun knows my stalwart companions are fighters. Tell him they have returned and wish to join him, and I promise that you will have done your captain a great boon.”

That gave them pause. After a moment, the older Mystic turned to one of the constables and said something we could not hear. The constable darted off out of sight behind the wall, and the Mystic turned back to us.

“Very well,” he called down. “I have sent word, and on your head be