CHAPTER FOUR
Tanka left Ran alone while he went to send the message via falk. Ran found his way out of the apartment and wandered the streets of Chulal. The sun was beginning to set, but Ran figured he still had at least an hour of daylight left. Besides, he wanted to see the harbor area for himself.
Fortunately, Tanka had set himself up only a few blocks from the wharves, and as Ran drew ever closer to the sea, the scent of salty air grew stronger. Ran smirked as he remembered his most recent sailing adventure and how seasick he’d gotten enroute to Chugal. He had no desire to repeat the experience any time soon.
As he came around a block of buildings, he set eyes on the bustling harbor for the first time. At least a half-dozen merchant transport ships were in port, their sails all furled, and secured to the docks. Ran cast his eyes over the men working to load and unload them. He heard snippets of the guttural sailing language they used and decided he couldn’t think of a harsher-sounding language. He had no idea what they were saying, but the underlying tonality seemed to say that if things weren’t done as ordered then there would be severe repercussions.
As he walked, he was careful to stay away from the stacks of crates and piles of sacks containing goods for sale. These were also guarded by any number of private soldiers that the merchants hired on to oversee their goods. No doubt stealing was rampant down here, and the merchants needed to protect their wares.
Ahead of him, Ran saw a gathering of men who looked different from the sailors. They were well-dressed and plump, which meant they didn’t engage in manual labor as far as Ran could tell. He approached them. As he did so, they looked up in surprise. One of them, larger than the others, hailed him.
“What can we do for you?”
Ran smiled. “I’m wondering where a warrior like myself can inquire about hiring on with a trade caravan. Do you know?”
The man grinned. “What job did you have in mind exactly?”
“Security.”
He laughed. “You’re awfully young to be traipsing about with those swords. What do you know about security anyway?”
Ran’s smile dissolved into a serious expression. “I’m not as young as I might appear. And as for my swords, they’ve seen plenty of action. I can assure you of that.”
“Can you now?” The older man rubbed his chin. “Well, unfortunately for you, son, I don’t take people’s word for it. I need to see for myself what you’re capable of doing. Surely you wouldn’t object to a little demonstration?”
Ran shrugged. “If that’s what you require, mister . . . ?”
“You can call me Yasseh. If you do well on the demonstration, you might even call me boss at some point.”
“What did you have in mind?” Ran shifted his two swords.
Yasseh shook his head. “Nothing with those blades. The last thing we need is the authorities coming down here and making trouble for all of us. But you must possess some degree of unarmed combat skill?”
“I do,” said Ran.
Yasseh smiled. “Excellent.” He clapped his hands and a smaller man appeared out of nowhere. Yasseh didn’t even look at him. “Tell Gunj to come here.”
“Gunj?” Ran almost smiled. The name alone conjured up images of a giant bear with lots of hair sticking out of odd places. Ran removed his swords and handed them to one of the other men in the circle. “Be careful with those.”
When Gunj showed up, he looked nothing like a bear. He looked more like a wisp of a man, but his forearms stretched taut over ribbons of muscle. His face showed a lot of hard living, and the way he moved told Ran that he was exceptionally dangerous. He came up to Ran’s chest and no more. Ran nodded at him, but got no response.
Yasseh smiled. “This is Gunj. He’s been with me for years. I will ask him to test you out. If he thinks you do indeed know how to handle yourself, then perhaps I’ll have a spot for you on my team. If not, well, I’m sure you’ll heal quickly enough.”
“Rules?” asked Ran as he separated from Gunj and the circle around him widened.
Yasseh shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about rules. Do what you have to do to survive. Just don’t do anything that’ll make Gunj angry.”
Ran frowned again. Gunj stood about ten yards away from him with his arms folded across his chest. He yawned and then removed his shirt. A blazing red dragon snaked its way down across his pectoral muscles, blowing fire toward his belly.
Ran pointed at the tattoo. “Nice work.”
Yasseh chuckled. “All the members of Gunj’s school have those emblazoned on them. It’s not by choice.”
“Which school?” asked Ran.
Gunj spat a wad of something at the ground and started moving around Ran. Ran brought his hands up in front of his chest. He had no idea what school of martial arts Gunj might have been from, so until he had some sense of what his fighting style was like, he would play it defensively.
Gunj feinted with a punch and then launched a side kick directly at Ran’s ribs. But Ran didn’t fall for the feint and sidestepped the kick before dropping an elbow onto the side of Gunj’s leg above the knee. Gunj went with the blow and ducked down, trying to sweep Ran’s legs out from under him. Ran leapt high and away, regaining some of the distance that had been lost when Gunj closed the gap.
Gunj came back up on his feet and looked at Ran with a bit more interest now. Ran couldn’t call it respect. Not yet. But Gunj clearly recognized that Ran wasn’t some idiot who thought himself a badass without any skill to back it up. He moved a bit more carefully, feinting and seeing if he could get Ran to commit to a defensive move.
Ran didn’t take any of the bait, which forced Gunj to commit to an attack himself. The wiry man launched a series of punches aimed at Ran’s head. Ran backpedaled, knocking the arms away with hard strikes to the underside of Gunj’s arms. Gunj grunted loudly and redoubled his efforts, but Ran was ready for his next attack and countered before he could launch it. Ran snaked one arm over Gunj’s left arm and dipped down and then back up, acquiring a steep shoulder lock.
Gunj went with the lock and threw himself into a back flip that brought him back onto his feet.
But not before Ran sank a heavy kick into his midsection. Gunj stumbled back, clutching his gut.
He held one hand up, and Ran halted his attack.
As Gunj got back up and sorted himself out, he glanced at Yasseh. “He is very skilled.”
Yasseh nodded with a bit of a surprised look crossing his face. He glanced at Ran. “You realize that’s the first time Gunj has ever been bested. Usually he mops the floor with aspiring security guards. Not you, though. You must be something special indeed.”
Ran took his swords back from the man who had been holding them and shrugged. “Experience is paid for in other ways. I don’t necessarily think I’m special given all the horrors I’ve seen in my short life.”
Yasseh clapped him on the back. “Regardless, what will it cost me to have you come with us?”
Ran eyed him. “What are you transporting?”
Yasseh laughed. “A wise warrior at that.” He shook his head. “We have a shipment of spices and fabrics that are feverishly sought after in the west. Expensive silks and robes that the rich in other kingdoms long to wear to impress their naive friends. We are one of the largest caravans leaving Chulal the day after next.”
Ran wondered if he would have enough time to hear back from Gakur before heading out. He nodded at Yasseh. “What coin do you pay in?”
“I pay in gold,” said Yasseh. “It’s accepted everywhere without these annoying currency exchanges to worry about. One kingdom’s gold is as good as another, I’ve found.”
“I want a sign-on bonus. Three gold pieces.”
Yasseh’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a steep price. I’ll give you two and another ten if we reach the safety of Durfun. From there, you can decide if you wish to continue with us on our way west or go off on your own. There are, after all, many ways for a young man to get distracted along the route.”
“We’ll see,” said Ran. Asking if they intended to stop at Valrus wouldn’t have been wise. Ran’s appearance marked him as a wandering warrior and nothing more. He had no wish for anyone to suddenly become interested in his business. It would be easy enough to find out if Valrus was on their list of stops once the caravan was underway.
Yasseh reached into his tunic and brought out a silken purse with gold-threaded strings. He doled out two gold coins into Ran’s hand. “Half now. I trust that you won’t take these and leave me wondering where you are when we leave the morning after next?”
“Not all who wander are without honor,” said Ran. “You got yourself a security guard.”
Yasseh nodded. “You’ll meet the other members of the security contingent when we depart. Gunj is also along for the ride, but not as an overt security man. He’ll stay in the background unless things get out of hand somewhere. He prefers to leave the fighting to those he considers disposable.”
Ran smirked. “Refreshingly honest.”
“Gunj has had a lifetime of fighting, and he usually shies away from it unless he’s helping me screen prospects.”
“I thought you said he was never bested.”
“He hasn’t been, but just because he’s better than just about everyone but you, we still need to hire people on to fight for us if bandits attack. Gunj just doesn’t think very much of them is all.”
“Fair enough,” said Ran. “I have a horse. Shall I bring him?”
Yasseh waved his hand. “Not unless your horse has made it through the Kurzjak Desert. You’ll have one of my steeds to take his place. Go and sell him off here in the city.”
“Very well.” Ran turned to leave, but Yasseh called him back.
“You still haven’t given me your name.”
Ran smiled. “I am Ran.”
Yasseh nodded. “Get yourself a meal, drink, and a woman with those gold pieces, my friend. Once we start down the highway, it will be only time for working. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” said Ran. He turned and walked down the street until he came back to a turn where he could be assured that no one from the wharves could see him. He doubled back several times to make sure Gunj or another of Yasseh’s people wasn’t tailing him. He doubted they were, but Gunj was an interesting sort. No doubt the little man was dangerous and had seen a lot of fighting in his time. Ran would need to be careful around him during the length of the journey west.
It was possible, he supposed, that the elders back in Gakur would discount the supposed invasion from his reports. No doubt they must hear all sorts of crazy gossip. If they had to check out every rumor, it would require far too much manpower and resources to explore. Ran fully expected to return to Tanka’s apartments and have his fellow shadow warrior tell him that he was free to go.
He hoped.
Ahead of him, the street narrowed and Ran realized that conducting business down at the harbor had used up the last bits of remaining sunlight. Already, the glow of candles could be seen in the pubs frequented by the sailors in this part of town. He heard raucous laughter and the sounds of breaking glass. Things were likely to get out of hand as the night crept in. Ran didn’t want to get caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of. He needed to be on that caravan when it left the day after tomorrow. Getting into a fight with drunks wasn’t a wise move.
He steered down a side alley and avoided a group of sailors already scuffling with each other. As they went sprawling off to one side of him, Ran sidestepped and vanished into the shadows past another tavern. He smelled mutton and ale, and his mouth watered. He was ravenous, he realized, but judging by the look of things, the tavern was no safer than the other bars in this area.
Then he spotted something that vanished out of the corner of his eye as soon as he saw it.
Ran stopped short in the alley. He’d just passed a window looking into the tavern. His peripheral vision, which was sometimes more acute than his normal eyesight, had seen something. As it registered in his mind, Ran shook his head.
It couldn’t be.
He turned and snuck back toward the window, using the edge of the building as cover so his entire head didn’t appear in the window. He peered into the murky interior of the tavern and let his eyes scan the entire place.
At first, he thought he might have been mistaken. But on his second pass, he spotted him.
In the corner of a tavern, holding court with a group of equally surly thugs, sat someone who shouldn’t be alive. Ran thought through the encounter again in his head. He frowned. It was possible, he supposed, but very unlikely.
Still, he couldn’t argue with reality. And he couldn’t discount the presence of the man sitting at the table in the corner of the tavern—without his two hands.
Ejul, the bandit Ran thought he had killed, was seemingly alive and well.
The question was: what was he doing in Chulal?