The Axe of Sundering Page 3

  Apprentice merchant, Alexander Kessler, Alex thought. That is who I will become when I get to Jarro. I’m in a hurry to catch up with my uncle, Barak Kessler, in the city of Shinmar.

  Alex had all afternoon before he had to go to Mr. Clutter’s shop so that he could vanish from view, and Blackburn’s was a place worth spending time and treasure in. He wanted to make sure he found a good sword to take the place of his magic sword, and perhaps a dagger to go with it. Alex also knew that Mr. Blackburn was not a man to rush when it came to choosing a weapon.

  “Perhaps an axe since that is what you’ll be using when you face Jabez,” Alex’s O’Gash commented in the back of his mind. “A little extra practice with an axe might help.”

  “Ah, Master Taylor,” Mr. Blackburn said as Alex entered the shop. “Good to see you again, good to see you.”

  “Mr. Blackburn,” Alex replied, bowing slightly. “I’m in need of a good sword, something that looks common, but is the finest quality.”

  “Looks common?” Mr. Blackburn asked.

  “Something that a merchant might carry,” Alex explained. “Nothing too grand, but the blade should be made of the finest steel.”

  “Aye, I understand what you’re looking for,” Mr. Blackburn said with a nod. “Let me see, I have several good swords that might do for you. Now wait a moment, yes, that might be the best.”

  Without saying anything more Mr. Blackburn hurried off into the back of the shop. Alex could hear him moving things about, and the search made Alex curious. What kind of sword would Mr. Blackburn show him? Alex didn’t doubt that Mr. Blackburn would bring a good sword, but it seemed odd that he would have to search for the sword he wanted.

  “Here we are, then,” said Mr. Blackburn as he returned several minutes later, a large black box under his arm. “This is something special I made a few years back. The merchant who ordered it never collected it, so I won’t feel bad about selling it to you.”

  The box was made from a dark wood that Alex had never seen before, with a fine silver lock on it. Mr. Blackburn produced a small silver key from his shirt pocket, and after opening the box, turned it so Alex could see inside. The gently curving scimitar in the box was plain to look at, but there was something about it that Alex liked. There was also a dagger in the box, which was a miniature copy of the sword. The metal in both blades had a wavelike pattern, though the black leather handles had no design at all.

  “The steel in those blades has been folded over six hundred times,” Mr. Blackburn said with pride. “It’s as strong as or maybe stronger than any I’ve ever made.”

  “It is a fine piece of work,” said Alex, lifting the sword from the box. “It is well balanced and comfortable to hold.”

  “Aye, I’d have to say that it’s the best pure sword as I’ve ever made, though a bit plain for most people,” Mr. Blackburn replied.

  “What price would you ask for such a sword?” Alex checked the scabbard as he spoke.

  “It won’t be cheap,” Mr. Blackburn said, his eyes on the sword. “I’d not sell it to just anyone, but seeing as it’s you . . .”

  “I understand. I believe that I also need an axe.”

  “An axe? You’ll excuse me for saying, but a sword and an axe seems like a lot of weaponry for a wizard to be carrying.”

  “True enough,” Alex said with a smile. “I know, however, that I shouldn’t always count on magic to get me out of trouble. I’m sure you’ll remember, when you measured me for my first weapon, that you found I could use a sword, an axe, or a staff.”

  “Oh aye, I remember that.”

  “I thought it would be wise to at least learn how to use an axe, even if I don’t plan on carrying one all the time.”

  “Aye, there’s wisdom in that. What type of axe were you thinking of?”

  “Type?”

  “Well, axes are a bit different than swords,” Mr. Blackburn chuckled. “You could get, say, a poleaxe, which could be as long as seven or eight feet, or a small one-handed fighting axe. You might prefer a throwing axe, or a two-handed battle-axe. There are a lot to choose from.”

  “Yes, of course,” Alex said.

  Alex had no idea what type of axe the Axe of Sundering might be, and that worried him. It could be a massive two-handed battle-axe, or it could be something much smaller. He thought about it for a moment, and decided that something in the middle would be best.

  “I think something like a dwarf axe,” Alex said at last. “Something that I can use with either one or two hands, depending on what needs doing.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Blackburn said. “A good choice, I think. Poleaxes can be more dangerous to the user than the enemy if the user doesn’t know what they’re doing. The small one-handed axes are also more of a specialized weapon. Now, let me see . . .”

  Mr. Blackburn showed Alex a number of fine axes, letting Alex hold each of them in turn. While Alex had never used an axe in combat, he did know something about how to use them. He had several dwarf friends who carried axes, and when he’d asked about how to use them in battle his friends had been happy to show him the basics.

  Alex had also practiced fighting with an axe and other weapons on his own. He had used magic to conjure up opponents to fight, and an axe or any other kind of weapon to fight with. The conjured warriors couldn’t do any real damage to him, just as his magically created weapons couldn’t do any damage to anything he might hit with them. It was a kind of game, a game that he thought might be useful to him now.

  If I have time for such training games, he thought.

  “And if you can use that magic in Jarro without Jabez or Whalen noticing,” his O’Gash added.

  After trying several of the axes, Alex chose one that felt comfortable in his hands. It was a fair-sized axe that he could use with both hands if he wanted to. It was also light enough that he could easily hold and swing it with just one hand. The axe was plain looking, its metal left unpolished except for the razor-sharp edge.

  “A good choice,” Mr. Blackburn said. “You don’t need no fancy work on it. I mean you’re not going to be trying to impress anyone with it, are you?”

  “No, I don’t need to impress anyone with it,” Alex agreed. “So, how much do I owe you for these three fine weapons?”

  “Well, the axe isn’t much. It’s a fine weapon, I’ll stand by that, but it is rather plain. I normally leave axes that way so the buyer can custom order any design they want,” Mr. Blackburn said. “The sword and knife, I can’t sell too cheap, even to you.”

  “Name your price, my friend—these are exactly what I’m looking for,” Alex said.

  “Well, I’ll not haggle with a wizard, so I’ll make it plain. I’ll take three hundred gold for the sword and knife, and say eighty for the axe. So, three hundred and eighty for the lot, and a bargain at that price.”

  “A bargain indeed,” Alex said, reaching for his magic bag. “I’d not rob you of such fine weapons. I’ll give you four hundred and fifty for all three.”

  “Done. And I hope these weapons serve you well.”

  After paying for his new weapons and thanking Mr. Blackburn for his help, Alex left the smithy and made his way back into town. He was ready to go, ready to face whatever it was that Whalen had planned for him.

  “I hope we’re ready for whatever Whalen has planned,” Alex’s O’Gash whispered.

  Alex didn’t reply to his O’Gash—or sixth sense, as some people called it. He didn’t normally talk to this magical voice in his head, but he always listened to it. His O’Gash had saved him more than once in the past, and he wondered now, for the first time, if every wizard’s O’Gash was as talkative as his was.

  He didn’t need anything in town, but he had to spend the rest of the day doing something. Whalen had suggested that he visit as many shops as possible, just in case someone was looking for him. Whalen wanted him to be seen in Telous, and if possible, seen going to Mr. Clutter’s shop as well.

  “Details,” his O’Gash said, sounding amu
sed.

  Alex spent his time wandering through the different shops in Telous. He bought a few things without really thinking about it. There were a few books from the bookstore that looked interesting, some extra blankets, and some new clothes and boots. As the afternoon wore on he returned to the Golden Swan and ordered a large dinner for himself. He continued to keep his eyes open for any adventurers he might know, but he didn’t see anyone.

  As Alex finished his meal he was a little on edge, excited, and worried. He wanted to get moving, and he worried about what he would face once he was moving. The Brotherhood came into his mind once more. They were a dangerous group, and there was no telling what they might have planned. They had already tried to ambush Whalen more than once, and if they discovered that he was going after Jabez . . . well, Alex didn’t dare guess what they might do.

  Jabez was another problem. Alex believed what Whalen had told him about Jabez turning to evil. He believed that Jabez was part of the Brotherhood, but he was also part of Whalen’s family. Knowing that Jabez was related to Whalen troubled Alex. He had once been a good and kind wizard, and that made Alex think—how had he turned to evil? How had he lost the path of a true wizard? Could he be turned back to good? Alex had stored Jabez’s journals in his magic bag’s library. So far he didn’t have any answers, but the questions continued to nag at him just the same.

  With dark thoughts about the Brotherhood trying to take over the known lands, Alex made his way to Mr. Clutter’s back door. He didn’t know enough about the Brotherhood—that much was clear. He didn’t know how many members the Brotherhood had, or how powerful those members might be. What little he did know about the Brotherhood and what they had done was bad enough.

  “Ah, Master Taylor,” Mr. Clutter said as soon as his magical back door opened. “Master Vankin said you might be stopping by.”

  “Mr. Clutter,” Alex said, bowing slightly and making sure the back door closed behind him. “Did Whalen happen to mention why I would be stopping by?”

  “Oh, yes, yes. No details of course, but he said you would be needing a large room for the night.”

  “If it won’t inconvenience you.”

  “No trouble, no trouble at all. Happy to help when I can. I think I have the perfect room ready for you.”

  Mr. Clutter turned and started to move out of his office without saying anything more. Alex wondered what Whalen had said to Mr. Clutter, because the adventure salesman was not normally so businesslike.

  “It’s one of the basement rooms,” Mr. Clutter said over his shoulder as Alex followed him. “Not much furniture or comfort, I’m afraid, but Master Vankin said you simply needed a large room.”

  “Yes, fairly large, I think.”

  “Well, this should work fine, then.”

  Mr. Clutter paused to light a lamp, and then led Alex down a long set of stairs. Alex had never been in Mr. Clutter’s basement before, and he was surprised by what he found there. The basement appeared to be a tangle of rooms with no real hallways at all. Each of the rooms was packed with something different: furniture, books, boxes of all different sizes and colors, cages of various sizes, lamps, clothes—even shoes. Everything Alex could think of seemed to have a room, and each room had only a narrow space in it that allowed Mr. Clutter and Alex to move to the next room.

  “I’m sorry for the mess,” Mr. Clutter said. “Had to do a bit of rearranging down here after I heard from Master Vankin.”

  “I hope we aren’t causing you too much trouble,” Alex said.

  “No, no, it was time to shift things around a bit anyway,” said Mr. Clutter, leading Alex through a room full of dinner plates, pots, pans, and glasses. “I should know to keep one of these rooms empty. This isn’t the first time Master Vankin has needed a large space for something.”

  “He’s done something like this before?” Alex asked.

  “Oh, I couldn’t say,” Mr. Clutter answered. “Don’t know what the two of you are doing this time, so I don’t know if it’s anything like what he did the last time, do I?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Ah, here we are, then.”

  They’d entered a large, mostly empty room. There was a single table with a lamp on it, two chairs, and a couch next to one wall. The room was about thirty feet wide and maybe fifty feet long, with no openings except the one Alex had just come through. What really surprised Alex was that the ceiling of the room was at least twelve feet high.

  “Enough space?” Mr. Clutter asked with a smile.

  “I’m sure it will be,” Alex said.

  “Well then, can I get you anything else? Something to eat or drink perhaps?” Mr. Clutter asked as he lit the lamp on the table.

  “No, thank you,” Alex said, his mind already thinking about the gateway magic he was going to use.

  “Well then, I will wish you a good night,” Mr. Clutter said, turning to leave.

  “Mr. Clutter, how long have you known Whalen?” Alex asked before he could stop himself.

  “Oh my, that’s hard to say. At least four hundred years, a bit longer than that really, truth be told. Master Vankin helped me get set up in the adventure business, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know that. To tell the truth, I was just thinking about how little I really know about Whalen.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Mr. Clutter chuckled. “Master Vankin keeps himself very much to himself. Never talks much about what he’s done or where he’s been. Never shares his worries or troubles with anyone, as far as I know. Still, well . . . perhaps I shouldn’t say anything.”

  “What?”

  “Well, as it’s you I’m talking to, I don’t suppose it will hurt. When Whalen was here, telling me to expect you and all, well . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I’ve never known him to show his emotions. When he was here I could tell he was worried, though. I might even say he was afraid. He seemed like a man walking toward his own grave, if you’ll excuse the expression. He wouldn’t say what he was planning, but I for one was happy to hear that you were going with him.”

  “Well, let’s hope we don’t need to worry about any graves.”

  “No, no graves. I will ask you to keep an eye on the old man, though I’m sure you’ll do that without my asking. Seeing him that way, well, it shook me a bit. I’ll just say that I’d take it as a great personal favor if you bring him back from, well, wherever it is the two of you are going.”

  “I will do all that I can to keep him safe,” Alex promised, troubled by Mr. Clutter’s words.

  “Then I will also wish you good luck with whatever it is you and Vankin are doing,” Mr. Clutter said, bowing to Alex and turning away.

  “Thank you,” Alex managed to say before Mr. Clutter was gone.

  Alex walked to the table and then turned to look back at the entrance to the room. He was surprised by what Mr. Clutter had told him, and by the request to watch out for Whalen. Mr. Clutter seemed sincere. He really seemed to care about Whalen, and that made sense, as he’d known Whalen for so long. Still, something in the back of Alex’s mind started to ask questions.

  Could he know? Alex asked himself. Could he know what Whalen and I are going to try to do?

  Sitting down at the table, Alex’s eyes returned to the entrance of the room. A darker thought entered his mind, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable looking into the darkness on the far side of the room.

  Could Clutter be part of the Brotherhood? Alex thought.

  The idea seemed crazy. Clutter was a trusted seller of adventures, not some evil spy for a secret society that was trying to take over the known lands. Still, the Brotherhood had spies, and Clutter would be a good spy to have. Clutter knew about most adventures going on in the known lands—and who was on those adventures. If the Brotherhood had Clutter as their spy, they could learn much without any real danger of revealing themselves.

  “No,” Alex said softly. “I don’t believe it.”

  Alex shook off his suspicions abou
t Mr. Clutter being a spy, and then sat for a time doing nothing. He moved to the couch and lay down, thinking a nap might be a good idea. He was too eager to sleep, however—and there were still hours to go before he needed to open the gateway. He got up, walked around the room several times, and then drew his new sword and took some practice swings with it. Finally, he went back to the table and reached for his magic bag.

  Taking out his map of Jarro, Alex spread it on the table and sat looking at it. He ran the few details he knew over and over in his mind. The plan was basic. Whalen wanted to start their adventure in Eastland, the furthest place away from Conmar and his nephew Jabez. Alex didn’t see the need to start so far away, but he’d agreed to do what Whalen wanted. It wouldn’t matter much anyway, as they would be sailing for Midland after less than a week in Eastland. But then what?

  Alex took his new axe out of his magic bag and practiced what his dwarf friends had taught him. He was extra careful as he swung the axe, making sure to not accidently hit himself with it. Slowly he began to feel more confident as the axe spun around him, but he knew he needed more practice.

  Returning to the table, Alex laid down his axe. He took out his new sword and knife as well, and started working a bit of magic into all of them. He knew that the weapons were strong, but he thought a little extra strength and maybe a spell to keep the blades sharp couldn’t hurt.

  One part of Whalen’s plan troubled Alex more than anything else. Whalen had told him not to use magic unless he absolutely had to. It seemed a bit strange, not using any magic, but Alex knew Whalen had his reasons. Whalen had also said that if he didn’t turn up in the city of Shinmar—the port they planned to sail from—that Alex should not wait for more than a day or two.

  “If I’m not there by then, find a ship that will take you to Midland,” Whalen had said. “I will catch up with you there.”

  “And if you don’t catch up?” Alex asked.