Forging of a Knight: Rise of the Slavekeepers

Chapter 4

The merchant lord sat amid piles of silken pillows. Golden incense burners sizzled, sending sweet spices into the air from metallic pots. Cabinets of fine oak and smooth glass displayed curiosities from many a country and far away land. Fine carpets of red and yellow covered the ceramic-tiled floors. Gilded masks of war and ceremony looked down from ornate ledges. A great stuffed beast, its black fur shimmering, its fanged maw spread wide, crouched on a raised platform, keeping watch.

Visandus himself was garbed in long brown pantaloons that bulged around his black leather boots. His white shirt was plain, but the vest that he wore atop it was beaded with colored gemstones. His skin was tanned bronze from the many years of plying ships through the seas, yet his smile was bright and his eyes twinkled. Great loops of gold hung from each earring, and his long hair was loose about his broad shoulders. A thin square of beard surrounded his thin lips, matching his narrow face and thin nose. A great golden goblet was balanced between his ringed fingers, and he sipped its hot contents slowly, listening to the knights’ plea.

The emissaries of Turinthia included all the knights who had taken part in the recent adventure, along with Glaive and General Mountebank. The merchant lord sat quietly for a time, hearing their tale. At last he placed his goblet down, and crossing his hands, looked down at the maps and objects that had been placed before him.

“Quite the tale. Quite the tale indeed,” Visandus said as he pored over the documents.

“This place that is marked is not unknown to me. It is one of many islets that ring their nation, little more than the tips of hilltops rising from the sea. There has never been any use for them, save as lookout posts. It is one of the isles furthest away from their central domain. It would make sense to make use of it for such a purpose, as no merchant lanes go through it. You have the ship?”

“Yes, it is moored in the naval harbor,” Mountebank said.

Visandus laughed. “Mezzolanke knights involved in such work. No longer am I surprised at the level they will stoop!” He rolled the special spear the knight had carried between his hands, releasing the blades from each side. “Yes, you are correct. This belonged to a true senior knight of their realm. They take pride in the use of such weaponry. No knight would let such an impressively made tool leave his side. He would rather die than relinquish it. You have read it well, Bartholomew.” Visandus rose from his seat.

“You have given me a pretty puzzle indeed, my friends. In all the years I lived there, none in my capacity ever heard talk of slavery, and believe me; I have many friends in low places.” He winked. “I have heard tales about such things from many a land, of course, but you hear of such fables when you travel. You have cracked quite the shell!”

“That is why we have come to you. You have aided us in the past with your knowledge of the enemy. We need you again to provide service to your adopted country,” Mountebank pleaded.

“Rather quick and to the point! I have indeed provided your King with much information in the past, anything that my contacts could offer me, at great risk to themselves. It is a trying and difficult thing to do.”

“We understand. The King asks for merely one of your captains, someone familiar with the waterways and checkpoints of Mezzolanke. As our own ships are not allowed in, to find a merchant captain who has the proper knowledge and skill would take time, which we cannot afford. We shall supply a naval crew, of course. And your captain would be protected by the knights of the Order.”

“Hmm,” Visandus mumbled. He strode to where the giant stuffed creature stood, and stroked its fur. “A captain needs his own handpicked crew to ensure loyalty without hesitation. Soldiery from your navy would not be preferred.”