Rise of the Red Harbinger (18 page)

Why do girls always read into every little thing?
“No no, don’t take it the wrong way. You look beautiful, it’s just…you’re dressed very modestly.”

“Is that such a bad thing? Yer quite confusin’, Baltaszar. First ya stare down my shirt an’ lead me ta believe ya want me. Then ya refuse me. An’ now I’m too modest fer ya?”

Anahi’s wittiness elicited a silly grin from Baltaszar. “I wasn’t complaining. I guess I just assumed that the way you dressed here was the way you always dressed. And yes, I confuse myself on many occasions. It’s nothing personal.”

“Silly boy,” she said innocently, yet seductively, “if I dressed like that out in public, I would have nearly every man in Vandenar propositionin’ me. Even modestly, too many men get too brave fer my likin’.”

“So do you only seduce men as part of your job then?”

Anahi rolled her eyes. “Come, let’s start walkin’. If we waited here fer yer wits to kick in, we’d never leave.” She put her hand in Baltaszar’s arm and led him down the wide street.

Baltaszar could not let her comment go undefended. “It’s not that I’m a dimwit. I’ve just been sheltered in my life. There’s too much of this world that I don’t know about. In fact, until a day or two ago, I had no idea that there really was a world beyond my town up in the mountains.”

“Ya know enough ta be true ta the woman ya love. There are thousands o’ men more intelligent an’ worldly than ya who cannot say the same. But enough o’ that. Ask me anything about Vandenar, or life beyond yer forest, an’ I’ll give ya an answer if I can.”

“You don’t think it strange that I come from the mountain and forest? Your friend Cyrus didn’t believe me.”

“It is strange, considering how close Vandenar is to the Never, an’ yet not once have we met anyone who’s claimed ta come from there. But I myself have never been out o’ Vandenar, so it’s not my place ta judge. Perhaps Cyrus has better reasons ta doubt ya.”

“Fair enough. Tell me about Cyrus.”

“What is it ya want ta know?”

“Is he really as nice a man as he seems?”

“Nicer. Cyrus is one o’ the biggest reasons why people even visit Vandenar. He doesn’t turn anyone away until literally no one fits. He doesn’t care about where yer from or anythin’; he’ll welcome anyone in without judgin’ ‘em. He’ll feed an’ help anyone in need, as ye’ve seen fer yerself.”

“Why? Why would anyone be that kind, even to strangers? And how can he afford to be that nice?”

“The how part is easy. When yer that nice, at least in Vandenar, people tend ta repay their debts. Fer all Cyrus gives ta the people in need, he gets repaid ten-fold. Maybe not always in money, but it could be in goods, clothes, supplies, fixin’ up his inn, whatever. The why, well he’s always been like that, at least fer as long as I’ve known him, which is near ten years. After his wife passed, he just got nicer. The thing is, his whole life now is ‘The Happy Elephant’. He doesn’t know anythin’ else an’ he thrives off o’ havin’ people there all the time. Keeps his mind off the sadness, I suppose.”

A pang of sorrow stabbed Baltaszar’s insides. “I’m sorry to hear that. People like him don’t deserve to feel that kind of sadness in life.”

“Believe me; Cyrus had more support than he could ask fer when she died. It wasn’t sudden; all o’ Vandenar saw it comin’ fer months. She was sick, beyond the help o’ our nurses. It’s because Cyrus is the man he is that we were all there for him ever since. I’m not sayin’ I don’t feel bad fer him, but some people have it much worse when a loved one dies.”

Baltaszar bit his lip hard, “Yeah. Definitely.”

Anahi looked like she was about to ask a question, then held it back. “Baltaszar, did ya really just ask me ta walk ya around so we could talk about Cyrus an’ depressin’ things?”

“Well, no. But…one more question about Cyrus and then that’s all, I swear.”

“Fine.”

Baltaszar glanced over to Anahi as they walked, “Why is it called The Happy Elephant? I’ve never even seen an elephant except in drawings back home.”

“Ha! Ya really have lived a sheltered life, haven’t ya.” She smiled at Baltaszar as if there was a lot more laughter being kept in than let out. “Vandenar is known for elephants! Haven’t ya wondered why the streets are so wide? Every year in the spring an’ summer, we walk ‘em through the main road o’ Vandenar ta show off the stock ta our residents an’ visitors. Elephants are our main source a industry.”

“Wait, so what exactly do you use them for?”

“Well, food fer one thing. I’m sure ya know what a cow is. An elephant can provide three or four times as much meat than a cow, an’ the meat is just as tasty. Not ta mention the hide is more durable than a cow’s leather.”

Baltaszar felt an uneasiness within his stomach. “What do you mean, food? People actually eat those things?”

“Did Cyrus give ya any food today? Any meat?”

“Yes, but he gave me a steak.”

“Cyrus doesn’t serve beef, Baltaszar. I’m sure the steak ya had was much larger than any cow steak ya seen before.”

Baltaszar was now torn between acceptance and nausea. He’d never actually seen an elephant before, so he wasn’t overly disturbed about the notion of eating elephant meat. Yet, for as long as he could remember, he’d only eaten beef, chicken, mutton, and fish.
I suppose this is the first of many new things I’ll have to become accustomed to
. “All right, fine. I’ll admit it was likely the best steak I’ve ever tasted.”

“I must say I’m impressed. Dimwit farm boy fresh out into the world an’ the thought o’ eatin’ an elephant didn’t disgust ya. Perhaps there’s hope fer ya yet. So many foreigners turn their noses at the thought o’ elephant. Until they taste it o’ course.” Anahi squeezed Baltaszar’s arm tight, pulling him closer.

“Just because I’ve been sheltered doesn’t mean I’m afraid of new things. So are you going to keep poking fun at me or are you going to give me a tour of Vandenar? What kind of guide belittles her customers?”

“Oh yer payin’ me now are ya?”

“Only if you’re good!”

“Fine then, I’ll give ya a history o’ every single buildin’ in this city.” She walked faster, pulling him along.

They walked on through the streets of Vandenar while Anahi discussed the intricacies of the town and details about the littlest of details. She held conviction in her explanations, passion for her home. Vandenar used wood for buildings and homes, because people worked so hard during the day that brick would only make them sweat more.

There was no one ruler of Vandenar, such as how Oran Von was the Chancellor of Haedon. The people all had the best interest of the town in their minds and hearts, so the elders of Vandenar made the decisions that were in the best interest of the masses. Of course they were overseen by the Lord of Mireya, the nation in which they resided, who then reported to the King. But they all appeased the Lord’s tax collectors when they came through, so there was never any trouble. At the heart of it, people didn’t come to Vandenar to cause trouble.

***

After over an hour of walking through Vandenar, Baltaszar had grown well accustomed to the habits, customs, and history of the city.
I wish Bo’az had come with me. All that fear and apprehension he had about the world would have been gone by now. I wonder what he’s doing now.

They walked along a side road toward the wide main road at the heart of the city. A few merchants and shop owners sat outside their stores and smiled and waved at Anahi as she and Baltaszar walked by.

“Do you know them all or are they being nice with the hopes of getting to know you?”

Anahi grinned and blushed, “I know them all. Most shop owners in Vandenar are men with families. And the city is too close knit fer men to be havin’ affairs. It’s usually the outsiders who abandon their morals at the sight o’ a pretty girl.”

Baltaszar nodded. “So…do you…”

“No, I am not a whore, Baltaszar.” Her tone and countenance suggested that she’d taken offense at what Baltaszar had implied. “Just because I offered ta sleep with ya doesn’t mean I sleep with every man who comes ta the inn.” She walked faster and Baltaszar quickened his pace to keep up.

“Look, maybe that’s what I was going to ask, but I didn’t mean to offend you. You yourself said plainly when we first met that you ‘take care of’ the Descendants who come to this town. What was I supposed to think?”

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, “You assume too much, farmboy. We hardly get any Descendants this far north. In the past few years, we’ve had less than five come up this way. An’ four o’ them were originally from this city. An’ before ya ask, I slept with one o’ them. I’d fancied him fer a long time. Does your lady back home allow ya ta be so forward when you speak ta her?”

Baltaszar looked down at the road as they walked on, “Well, while she was still speaking to me, she was just as forward as me. So I guess it didn’t really matter to her. I guess perhaps I didn’t realize that I couldn’t speak that way to other girls.”

“You really are sheltered an’ naïve,” Anahi quipped as she shook her head at him.

Baltaszar smiled as he sensed her mood softening, “I wasn’t lying.”

“Baltaszar Kontez! Come here boy! Come in! I have a prophecy fer ya!” A voice called for Baltaszar from one of the shops along the right side of the road. Baltaszar looked over to the porch from where he heard the voice. An old bald man stood up from his wooden chair and continued to shout, “Baltaszar Kontez!”

Baltaszar looked to Anahi, “Who is that? How does he know my name?”

“Are ya not familiar with the Blind Men? Augurs I think is the proper term.”

Baltaszar shook his head, confused.

“They are seers. The Blind Men give prophecies. Not at command, but visions an’ prophecies come ta them randomly. Arbitrarily. Actually I think there are Blind Women, too.”

Baltaszar eyed her suspiciously. “So why are they called Blind Men?” The man continued to call for him in the background.

“I supposed it is the Orijin’s way o’ givin’ ‘em balance in their lives. The legend is that children who are born blind develop this ability in their lives. So while they can’t physically see, their minds are gifted with this ability.”

Baltaszar looked again at the man, then back at Anahi. “What should I do?”

“Go humor him. The Blind Men are not evil. That he knows yer name is very tellin’. Probably it means he’s already seen somethin’ about ya. He probably knew ya would even walk by at this moment. Why else would he shout yer name, if he can’t even see ya? Go see what he wants. I’ll wait here.”

Baltaszar looked back at the Blind Man, who still stood and stared directly at Baltaszar, despite his blindness. Chills ran up Baltaszar’s body at the unfocused gaze. He walked up the porch stairs to the man. “I am Baltaszar Kontez. What do you want with me?” Upon closer inspection, the main was frail, barely filling out the loose green robe he wore, and liver spots covered his wrinkly, yellow-hued skin. He barely reached Baltaszar’s shoulder.

The old man’s bright green eyes flitted about in their sockets as he smiled and shook his head. “No need fer hostility, boy. I mean ya no harm.”

“Then what do you want?” Baltaszar said, a bit more harshly than he intended.

“I’ve a prophecy fer ya boy, though I do not remember it from the top o’ my weathered head. Come in an’ have some tea while I find what I must tell ya. Farco, help me inside.” The man motioned to the doorway, where a boy, no older than ten or eleven years, stood with the man’s cane. The boy, Farco, helped the Blind Man inside. Farco bore the typical features of everyone else in Vandenar: yellowish skin, almond-shaped eyes, and his black hair was long and shaggy, almost covering his eyes. Baltaszar followed and Farco gestured for him to sit down at a table covered with piles of books. The room smelled musty and the walls were lined with bookshelves, all tightly packed with more thick, dusty books. The young, dark-haired boy helped the old man to a chair on the opposite side of the table, and then left the room to make the tea.

“If you are blind, why do you have so many books? Does the boy read to you?” Baltaszar couldn’t imagine how annoying that process would be to have to read all of these books to the old man.

“Open one up an’ ya shall have yer answer.” The man held his hand out to the piles of books on the table.

Baltaszar took one from the top of a dusty pile and opened it, the leather of the spine cracking a bit. As soon as Baltaszar opened the book, he understood. The pages were filled with patterns of dots and dashes, raised slightly off the page. “Did you create this language yourself?”

At that, the man let roar a hearty laugh. “Me? Ha, oh no dear boy. The ‘Patterns’ have been around fer ages, most likely since the Tower o’ the Blind was built over in that giant lake. What do they call it? Oh yes, the Eye o’ Orijin. Ironic that we Blind Men would situate ourselves in the Eye. Ya see, we Blind Men are very studious people and we like ta document everythin’, so we needed a way of writin’ as well. Most o’ us are taught the Patterns from the time we are little.”

“How did you know I was outside? How did you know my name?”

“I’ve seen two prophecies o’ ya in my life. I think. Well, I don’t quite remember the first one, which is why I’ll have ta consult my books. But the second one, well that one only came about a week ago, which was a vision that ye’d walk by when ya did. I’ve just been keepin’ track o’ the days. Today is Lionsday, isn’t it?” The old man’s eyes continued dance around in their sockets. They made Baltaszar uncomfortable when they fell on him.