Saturday, April 11, 2009

Chapter 2 - Simmering

Chapter 2 - Simmering

Poraeus stepped out from the shaded columns of the Council, barely stopping to glare at the two plated, guan dao-wielding1 Kairn guards posted outside the entryway. A black-haired Humari with mottled grey wings fell in beside him as he entered the white-graveled thoroughfare. Though a full head shorter than Poraeus, the general's companion's wings stretched much higher, making him seem to loom. After one glance at the general's crimson face, he did not need words to know what had happened in the hearing. They reached half-way across the plaza before Poraeus opened his mouth to snap at his companion. "What do you say about your great plan, now, Trake? Rejected, like the others before it. I spent months on it, and they still threw it out! You're supposed to be the most esteemed advisor in the Chamber of Owls. Tell me, were your wings rubbed in ash on your Fledging Day, or did they come out that colour?"

Trake arched his back slightly, though not enough for Poraeus to see. There was no reasoning with him, and it was better he blow off steam with poison words than with iron-clad fists. Best to remain silent. Poraeus continued ranting. "The Kairn are a deadly threat to the Humari Alliance, and they choose to ignore it. Just wait: they'll make an attack soon. They may have strength in numbers, but..."


Trake nodded vacantly, ignoring the growling chatter. He'd keep talking until he was blustering and out of breath. The two were now walking through the grimy alleys; stone and mortar sat next to half-rotted wood structures, more often than not. Muffled noises of noisy haggling and busy common rooms filtered in through the cracks and open windows, half-drowning Poraeus' grumbling. Once or twice, Trake had to pull his wings down to avoid clipping them on overhanging beams and window-panes.

"Trake! Do you need to clean out your ears? I asked you if you've any news from the Exchange yet."

Trake blinked, realizing he'd completely missed his companion's question. Frowning absently, he began rubbing his chin, despite the obvious lack of stubble. "I've not heard anything, but I haven't stopped by in the past several days: planning, you know, for the hearing..." His voice faded as Poraeus pivoted on one heel to grip Trake's arm. Trake winced as his wrist was squeezed in the general's powerful grip. So much for just poison words.

"Check... it... now." The general ground out each word with grit teeth, punctuating every syllable with a painful squeeze of Trake's arm. Trake quickly nodded, trying to pull back. "Of course, I'll do it, as always. I will report to you tonight, if you're not busy?"

Poraeus considered the statement for a moment, then nodded, releasing the vice, leaving Trake to chafe his wrist gingerly. "I'm in need of good news; if I don't get some, soon... your body would make a fine example for the Council of the Kairn's brutality, don't you think?" Flames seemed to flicker behind those blue eyes. Whether madness or anger, Trake did not want to find out. He nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips, and turned towards the alley entrance, concentrating on not running.

The Raven Exchange was on the other side of the Melero River, at least two-hundred wingspans away. At least he'd have more time to think. Poraeus was an incredible general, and a powerful man, but his method of leadership was unorthodox, to say the least. He relied on threats and anger to do what other generals accomplished with a single, impartial order. And yet the Emperor favoured him, perhaps because of this stand he was taking against the Kairn. Trake sighed: if there was another man he could attach himself to more powerful than Lance-General Poraeus, besides the Emperor himself, then he wasn't born Trachendre Firlocke.

Through the maze of alleys, following a path only few knew. Trake knew he had navigated correctly when he spotted the old hide-covered cart, axle shattered and wheels nowhere to be seen. Looking furtively to ensure he wasn't seen, Trake casually walked to the cart, leaning against it. His hands, however, moved behind him, to lift up the fabric, and in moments, he had rolled himself into the cart. Or what looked to be the cart from the outside; inside, you could see the wall behind the cart. A corbel arch2 was inset with a solid door, with no apparent handle. The arch itself had a detailed painting of what appeared to be a raven on its keystone3, wings outspread and beak holding a jewel-crested amulet. Trake grinned and touched the amulet. There was a green flash under his finger, a momentary tone, as if someone had sung a brief, pure note. He had always found this Artefact fascinating; the sheer simplicity of it belied its complex design. The door swung open to reveal a cramped storefront, lit only by two flickering torches pegged to the wall. The Raven Exchange was open for business.



Glossary-
1Guan dao: A pole arm used in martial arts, consisting of a blade with a rear hook mounted atop a five to six foot pole. Picture Wikipedia
2Corbel arch: An arch made not by curving stones smoothly together, but rather with blocks coming in from either side until they meet at the apex. Wikipedia
3Keystone: The stone at the apex (peak) of an arch. Wikipedia

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comment on the latest chapter here!