Chapter 5
It only took three days on the road for Sid and Barson to work out a division of camp duties that each found acceptable. Their days started early with a cold breakfast. The cold breakfast allowed them to hit the trail only minutes after sunrise. After four hours of riding, they would break for a short lunch. After lunch, they'd ride until an hour before sunset while taking turns napping in the saddle. After Sid gathered wood and started a fire, Barson prepared a hot meal. While the dinner cooked, they would spar. Each night they used a different weapon. After dinner it would be dark.
They'd clean up camp and then each man would take a half night shift as lookout.
It was the afternoon of the fourth day when Barson, in a low voice, said, "We've got trouble heading our way."
Sid snapped awake with his hand going directly to his sword while his eyes sought out the threat. They were on a hill overlooking a herd of cattle and six men were riding hard in their direction.
Rather than draw the sword, he kept his hand on it so that he could react without presenting an immediate threat. He said, "I see six, are there more?"
Barson had been so focused on the six men approaching that he hadn't thought to check for a trap. He looked around to check that no one was approaching from the rear. The visibility was good and he could not see anyone coming up behind them. He answered,
"No."
Sid pulled on the reigns and brought his horse to a stop. He said,
"Let's make them come to us."
"Good idea," Barson said as he came to a stop. He waited while Sid brought his horse to his side. Sid left enough room between them so that their swords would not interfere with each other.
The approaching riders slowed down and approached at walk.
When they were close enough to make out individual features, Barson said, "Relax, I know them."
The oldest rider and a young rider who appeared to be his son took the center. Two riders split off to the sides in a move intended to flank Sid and Barson. Watching the action, Barson shouted, "Hello Gustov. Hello Olaf."
The oldest rider made a gesture and the other four riders dropped back behind him. He shouted back, "Ah, Barson. What are you doing out here?"
"I'm going to the Jones Citadel."
The riders stopped about ten feet away. Gustov, the oldest man, looked over a Sid with narrowed eyes. He saw that Sid had not taken his hand off his sword. Watching Sid, he asked, "Who's your intense looking friend?"
"I'm Sid Jones."
All of the men sat back on their horses with looks of surprise. In a manner that straddled being a question and a statement, Gustov said, "You are the nephew of Gerald."
"Yes."
"I can see that you are of a similar manner. He's a good man, your Uncle."
Nodding, Sid said, "Yes, he was."
Gustov didn't react to the use of the past tense. He said, "I take it you're going to the citadel to claim your holding."
"Yes, I am."
Wondering if Sid was the kind of man that would sit back and live off the legacy of his uncle, Gustov asked, "Then what?"
Barson answered, "We are heading south to see what's going on down there."
Surprised, Olaf asked, "Your father gave you permission to take on the slavers?"
"Yes he did."
"Lucky guy." Olaf's comment earned him a quick glare from his father.
"Yeah. It was his idea," Barson said.
Gustov looked at Sid taking the measure of the man with his eyes.
Deciding that he liked what he saw, he asked, "How long will you be at the citadel?"
"A month," Sid answered.
"Olaf will come by and ask if he can join you. If you choose to take him, he has my permission to go," Gustov said. As Olaf stared at his father, the older man turned his horse and said, "Let's get back to the cattle men."
Olaf stared at his father's back in shock. The look on his strong featured face broadcast his disbelief. Turning to Barson, he asked,
"Did he just say I could join you?"
"More or less," Sid answered with a curt nod of his head. It struck him odd that so many men were willing to send their sons on an adventure with him. He asked, "Did your father, Chuck, and Gerald ride together?"
Olaf nodded and said, "Yes. They were at the siege of Robert's Keep."
"That's where my dad lost his leg," Barson said.
Gesturing in Gustov's direction, Sid said, "I think he's getting tired of waiting for you."
Olaf grinned and turned his horse. As he rode away, he shouted,
"I'll be at the citadel as soon as possible."
"We'll be looking for you," Sid shouted back. He settled in his saddle and, turning to Barson, said, "Looks like we're collecting a troop."
"It sure does. You'll like Olaf. He's a cheerful fellow and always ready with a joke. He loves the ladies and they love him. Nobody is better at setting up a camp than him."
It was a couple of days later when the two young men approached the gates of the citadel. A guard at the gate stopped them by holding up his hand in the universal gesture to stop. Sid and Barson reigned in their horses and waited for the guard. The man walked over and asked, "What is your business here?"
Sid looked at the walls of the citadel. Two guards were in gate houses watching the exchange. Another two men were on the wall watching over the gate. He answered, "I'm here to meet with Bixby."
"What is your business with Bixby?"
Frowning at the intrusive question, Sid answered, "That's between Bixby and me."
It was the guard's turn to frown. He turned to the gate and shouted,
"Says he's here to meet with Bixby. Someone get Bixby."
A man from atop the wall left his position. Shaking his head at the sight, Sid couldn't believe that his uncle would let things be run in such a slipshod manner. He said, "One of the men from the guardhouse should have gone."
"Why?" the guard asked while studying Sid intently.
"You've got two of us down here. If we were not friendly, your guards at the gate house would have to deal with us on the ground where we can attack with advantage from horseback. We wouldn't be able to get to the men on the wall without getting through the gate and then climbing the wall. Having two men up there gives you a much greater advantage."
The guard shook his head and said, "You're just like your uncle.
The last time I did that he dressed me down something horrible."
Sid stared at the guard in confusion. With the surprise evident in his voice, he asked, "You know who I am?"
"Olaf showed up last night asking for you."
Upon hearing his name, a blond head appeared at the wall and he waved to Sid and Barson. His wide grin was visible even from the distance. He shouted down, "Hello, Barson. Hello, Sid."
Sid could understand how Olaf had arrived before them. He and Barson had ridden around the citadel checking it out from all sides.
There were two gates, one at each end of the town. Guard towers spaced along the wall and clear fields outside the walls assured that it would be difficult for a force of men to take them by surprise.
From the outside, it appeared to be a well designed fortification.
Sid shook his head and said, "I guess checking the security of the citadel should have taken a backseat to meeting Bixby. I hope the man isn't irritated."
"I'm not. After Olaf told me you were coming, I watched you ride around the citadel this morning. That was the kind of thing your uncle would have done. He'd check things out before people could try to pull the wool over his eyes," Bixby answered with a smile.
When Olaf had told him that Gerald's nephew was coming to claim the citadel, he had been worried. Even in the best of families, sons seldom took the same degree of care of their inheritance as the fathers had taken in acquiring it. He had been relieved to watch Sid circle the city, pausing at places to study the walls from a safe distance.
Barson listened to the exchange with interest. He had recognized Bixby right away and had wondered why the man had behaved in the manner he had. Once he had realized that Bixby was testing Sid, he fought back the urge to let Sid know what was happening.
He hadn't realized that the trip around the citadel was Sid's way of testing Bixby.
Sid leaned forward and offered his hand. He said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bixby. I'm Sid Jones."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Sid. Let's go to the town hall and talk," Bixby said as he turned towards the gate. He led the two men to the center of town. Before they had gone a block, Olaf was walking beside them with a grin on his face. He had appreciated the little joke played on Sid.
As he walked beside Bixby leading his horse, Sid studied the city.
A single street connected the two gates. He noticed that giant gates were hung at each intersection. It took him a moment to realize what the intended purpose of the gates was. The buildings along the street were designed as a trap for any kind of force that might get through the main gates. He looked at the shopkeepers and could tell that each was a veteran of some campaign by the scars and missing limbs. He knew those men could fight and would fight with a great ferocity if the citadel were ever attacked. He commented, "It looks to me like each of the men here has campaign experiences."
"Noticed that, did you?"
"I have to say that I'm impressed by the defenses. This street is a killing field. Any army that got in through the gate would find themselves in a rough position."
Bixby shook his head and said, "I hope that we don't need them, but I fear that we may. This slavery thing is looking very ugly. An entire town was taken less than four weeks ride from here."
"That's why I'm here."
Stopping in the middle of the street, Bixby stared at Sid. He asked,
"This wouldn't happen to be the reason why Malcolm Chambers, Colonel Lee, and Danny Sun are sitting around in the Thieves Den?"
"I'm supposed to meet them at the Two Fish Inn."
"The Thieves Den is our nickname for the place," Bixby said.
Turning to Olaf and Barson, he said, "Why don't you two head over to the Two Fish Inn? I'll bring Sid over there when we are done with our discussions."
Turning to Sid, Barson asked, "Is that alright with you?"
"Sure. I don't know how long we'll be. I imagine there is a lot for me to learn about the citadel."
Olaf said, "I'll take your horse over to the stable for you and get your gear into a room at the Two Fish Inn."
Sid handed the reigns over to Olaf and said, "Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll be over there when I'm done talking with Bixby."
After a short walk, Sid found himself at the center of town. This was clearly the public area. The town hall occupied one corner, an open market occupied another corner, a large park with a public well occupied the third corner, and a barracks occupied the last.
The entire area was very crowded with most of the people in the market. A few people were lounging in the park as if resting for a bit before returning to the market.
Sid followed Bixby into the town hall and then to a large meeting room just off the entrance. To one side was a table on which was carved a map of Chaos. Examining the table, Sid realized that he could create a paper map just by rubbing a piece of charcoal over a sheet of paper placed on the table. Nodding his head, he said, "Let me guess. This was my uncle's idea."
"Yes. He collected maps from every place he went. He had the table constructed based on those maps. You'll notice that the tabletop is divided into sections. Each section can be removed and replaced by an updated map of that area. As far as I know, this is the most accurate map of Chaos," Bixby said while pointing out the various features of the map.
The idea was brilliant and Sid couldn't help but appreciate his uncle's mind for detail. He smiled and said, "This must have been one of my Uncle's most favorite things."
Bixby said, "This was Gerald's war room. All of his campaigns were planned in this room. Those books over there contain all that is known about the different regions of the country. They contain information about everything from the plants and animals to the customs of the local people."
"The informed man will defeat the ignorant man every time," Sid said.
"You sounded just like Gerald there," Bixby said as he moved to the other large table in the room. Taking a seat, he said, "It is time for me to see his signet ring and then I will turn over the Citadel to you."
Sid walked over to Bixby and held out the signet ring for the other man to examine. Bixby didn't need to look at it very long. He recognized the ring since he had been the man to create it. A small frown crossed his face as the reality of his loss was confirmed. His best friend was indeed gone. In a sad voice, he said, "The citadel is yours."
"I'd like you to remain in your current role," Sid said knowing that his Uncle had entrusted the citadel to the other man.
"You don't even know me. Why would you trust me to act on your behalf?"
Looking over at the other man, Sid answered, "I know that I can trust you. My Uncle trusted you and I can think of no better proof of your character."
The statement was as shocking as a bucket of cold water dumped on a sleeping man. Bixby stared at Sid without knowing how to answer. Never had anyone voiced such absolute trust in him based on the word of another man. His throat was tight as emotions fought to emerge. His mouth worked, but no words came forth. It took almost a full minute before he said, "Thank you. You will not be disappointed."
"I know," Sid said as he took a seat. He had watched the emotions flash across the man's face and knew how deeply his words had touched the other man.
Bixby stared at the table for several seconds and then said, "Let me tell you about the citadel. Over six hundred people live here. There are over a hundred businesses within the walls and forty outlying farms that provide food. You own every building and all land within a day's ride from here. Everyone pays rent. Caravans pay a fee to pass through your lands. From the moneys you collect, you pay for normal repairs and the guard. After all is said and done, you have a little less than two hundred and fifty conches a year income from the keep."
Sid sat back and considered the amount of money. It was a considerable sum. After a moment's thought, he said, "I'd like that money reinvested into improvements with a small reserve in case of an emergency."
The suggestion echoed words that Gerald had told him years earlier. Relieved that he could continue his program of continued improvements to the citadel, Bixby said, "That has been past practice. I'm glad that you want it to continue."
"Good. I assume that you'll introduce me to those who live here so that we will not be strangers to each other."
"I will arrange for the heads of households to come to meet you in the great hall tomorrow," Bixby replied with obvious relief in his voice. He had worried about this day for years. He had worked to build this Citadel with Gerald and had feared that Sid would destroy all that he had struggled to achieve.
"Excellent. What would it cost to host a dinner for all of them?"
"About two conches."
Sid fished around in his coin purse and retrieved two conches.
Handing them over to Bixby, he said, "I'm sure that you know a man who can arrange it for tomorrow night."
Surprised at the ease with which Sid had handed over the coins, Bixby looked at them and said, "There's no need for you to pay. It could come out of the Citadel accounts."
"True, but then it wouldn't be me hosting the dinner, would it?"
Bixby smiled at the question and answered, "No, it wouldn't. If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'll give this task to Peterson to perform."
Sid watched Bixby leave the room. He took a moment to examine the books on the shelves. There were less than two hundred books on the shelf, but he knew that it represented a veritable wealth in this land. He selected one of the books and read the title. It was simply titled, Herbal Medicines. Rather than being printed, each page was filled with hand written notes and illustrations that had been copied from the original notes of some long forgotten herbalist. He had visions of Dark Age monks bent over desks copying books whose contents they barely understood. With the care and reverence that such a valuable tome demanded, he closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.
He turned in time to see an unhappy Bixby enter the room. The man was followed by a short squatty man with close cropped black hair. Bixby said, "Peterson, I'd like you to meet Sid Jones. He's the new master of the Jones Citadel."
Peterson grunted and didn't say a word to Sid. He was reserving judgment concerning Sid. Sid looked at Peterson for a moment and then asked, "You provided logistic support for my Uncle, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then you are the best man to be found for that job," Sid said with the kind of assurance that had its source in absolute certainty.
"I don't appreciate flattery."
"I wasn't flattering you. I was stating a fact based on my knowledge of my Uncle and how he surrounded himself with the best men to be found. If you provided logistic support for him, then you are the best."
Peterson didn't reply, but shrugged his shoulders. Bixby knew the man well enough to know that Sid had surprised and impressed him. Bixby said, "You'll take care of the arrangements for dinner tomorrow night?"
"Yes," Peterson said and turned away to attend to the matter. He left the room without saying another word.
With a raised eyebrow, Sid watched the man walk away. When he had left the room, Sid said, "I like him. I'm assuming that he wasn't going to work for me until he decided that I was worthy of his approval."
"Right."
"So what do we do now?"
Smiling, Bixby answered, "I'll show you around the citadel and then take you to meet your comrades at the Thieves Den."
The first place the two men visited was Gerald's residence. It was a small place that was next to the town hall. An elderly woman by the name of Sorensdaughter was the caretaker. The appearance of Sid sent her away in tears since it confirmed for her the news of Gerald's death. Although they had never been lovers, she had loved Gerald with her entire heart. He had rescued her from a hard life in hell and given her an easy life in heaven. She owed Gerald everything.
When Bixby had started to go after her, Sid had suggested that they leave her alone so that she could grieve. The small act of kindness impressed Bixby and he readily agreed. The tour then progressed to include a visit to each watch tower and both gates.
As they walked along, Sid asked, "Who did my Uncle use to recruit men for an adventure?"
"That would be Connor. He's got a good eye for honest men and good fighters. Of course, your Uncle always had final approval,"
Bixby said.
"I would appreciate it if you could introduce me to Connor sometime tomorrow before the dinner. I'd like a chance to talk with him and tell him my needs for the upcoming campaign," Sid said.
"What if he won't help you?"
"I'll ask him to recommend someone who would be willing to work with me," Sid answered without missing a beat. He had no doubts that some of his Uncle's old friends would be unwilling to help him until he had proven himself to be worthy of their help.
Bixby looked over at Sid with a blank expression. He said, "And if that individual won't help?"
"I'll ask for the next recommendation. If I can't have the best, then I'll take the second best. If I can't have the second best, then I'll take the third best. I'm not going to start at the bottom and try to work my way up," Sid said.
Pleased to learn that Sid had the same value for good men as Gerald, Bixby nodded and said, "I'll get the word to Connor and see if he responds. He'll be busy getting people together to work in the dinner tomorrow."
"Oh? Where would he go to get people to work there?"
"The sons and daughters of the heads of households will probably get hired. They'll enjoy the extra money and it'll give you a chance to meet the next generation of residents," Bixby said.
"How many people will he hire?"
Bixby was silent for a moment and then said, "About fifty. There will be about ten cooks, twenty assistants for the cooks, and twenty servers."
"Perhaps I should get some money over to Connor."
"Your two conches have covered that expense."
Sid thought about it and decided that he'd tip each person helping with two pinches. It wasn't too much to make him seem frivolous with his money and it wasn't too little to make him look miserly.
He had more than enough pinches in his saddlebag to cover that amount. Barson had recommended that he trade in a number of the conches for lower denomination coins. Having come to that decision, he said, "Good. Now let's get over to the Thieves Den."
Sid followed the other man to a very non-descript inn that was hidden well off the main road through the citadel. It was close to the stables and he could see the horse he had bought in the corral.
The sign in front of the inn showed two fishes arranged to form an X. The fishes reminded him of trout.
It was easy to spot Malcolm Chambers, Colonel Lee, and Danny Sun
seated in the public room of the inn. They were the grimmest men in the
entire place. He walked over to the table and, as he sat down, said,
"I'm Sid Jones. There is nothing that I detest more in this world, or
any other world for that matter, than slavery. What are we going to do
about it?"