Legacy - Christopher Pastrana (books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

            Finally taking their first steps onto the ground below, people stopped what they were doing to look at the group. Their eyes traced over everybody but stopped on Reinhardt. Best case scenario they assumed he was brought to question, hence the large group of soldiers, worst case he was a prisoner.

            “Sergeant, take your men back to the barracks and prep for the next patrol. We will be leaving in a few hours and have already lost too much time.” Reinhardt watched the small fire elementalist give directions to the rest of the group before they departed. After they were alone she turned her attention to him. Her dark eyes caught the light of a nearby lamp and reflected a soft shade of brown. She was a strangely beautiful woman, even if she was very small.

            “What now?” Reinhardt felt the coldness in his voice, but hadn’t intended it to come out that way. A few men nearby were still watching them quietly. Everywhere he looked he could see the signs different nations. This camp was built of people from almost every nation; it was strange to see someone from the deserts of Rornin speaking with one of the Wanve natives. Whoever brought this camp together would have been great in diplomacy.

            “I will bring you to see the council Briccio was affiliated with. If your story checks out they will decide what to do with you.” With that she turned and began walking into the camp. Eyes fell onto the pair when they walked by, clearly intrigued. It didn’t take Reinhardt long to figure out why. After having walked for almost ten minutes he hadn’t seen anyIcileans. Their dark skin and broad features would have stood out against almost everyone except those from Rornin, even though the height difference would have been a clear distinction. Icilean stood on average a foot taller than the Rornin, Reinhardt more so.

            “What will this council want from me? I am only a farmer, I barely knew Briccio before he died.” Reinhardt didn’t care to explain that his being a mere ‘farmer’ led him to being whatever he currently was. He didn’t even know if he could consider himself an elementalist since he had no control of an element, only over those others controlled.

            “They will want to know about Donovan and why my entire unit was held up by a farmer, as you put it.” Her voice had a hint of distrust in it. He couldn’t blame her for it but it wouldn’t help if she put a negative spin on the whole event. Nearby a horse neighed and Reinhardt caught sight of a group of large breeds he had never seen before. This entire war camp managed to have horses underground with them and it didn’t smell like death? Now he was very intrigued.

            “I will not have much useful information for you woman.”

            “Stop calling me woman, my name is Roas.” Even her name was kind of cute. Where did that come from? It had only been a few months since his family had been killed, was he already willing to move on from that? Reinhardt noticed that Roas was looking at him; she had probably asked him a question while he was distracted.

            “Did you say something?” Reinhardt never thought of himself as the coy type, nor did he understand relationships very well. His wife had always warned him that he needed to work on his people skills if he wanted to become a better farmer.

            “What is your name?” Roas sounded agitated with having to repeat herself, which was another useful piece of information.

            “Reinhardt.”

            “Do you have a family name or were unable to buy one?” Reinhardt didn’t know a lot about Fatir but he did know that they were a culture driven heavily by slavery. Family names were only allowed, and affordable, to the wealthy. Slaves were not allowed to have a last name, nor were lower class citizens.

            “Icilee is not like Fatir Roas. The right to carry a family name isn’t restricted to the upper class.

            “So you are Icilean. We hadn’t figured out where you are from yet.” Reinhardt looked himself over and laughed a bit.

            “Is it surprising that I am Icilean?”

            “To you it is a clear fact. Maybe it is also clear to someone born and raised in Duzee, but from Fatir you could easily be a mix of Ental and Rornin. You’re darker skin and features would be from a Rornin parent, while your height could easily be from Ental.”

            “I hadn’t thought of that before, I have never traveled further than the outer cities of Duzee to sell crops.” Still walking through the war camp it was finally clear how large this place actually was. A group of children laughed as they ran past Roas, chasing a ball. If there were young kids here than there must have been women other than soldiers.

            “Why are you traveling so far out of your country now when you haven’t before?”

            “I had nothing left to offer Icilee.” They had left nothing for him. Killed everyone he had ever loved, and burned everything he owned.

            “You never answered me about your family name.”

            “I don’t use a family name any more. I gave it up when I lost my family.” Surprisingly Roas didn’t follow the statement with another question. She seemed to understand when to stop prying into someone’s background. That was a very useful trait. Turning a corner near a food stand Reinhardt met the eyes of nearly twenty armed soldiers, clearly waiting for him. In front of the group was a beautifully dressed woman. Her long blond hair was straight and hung free. Expensive silks flowed from her dress, leaving only the fine details out of her figure.

            “I have been sent by the council to bring you in for questioning regarding the death of Briccio Donovan.” The outer soldiers closed in around him, presumably to not let him escape. His tattered and dirty cloak stood in clear contrast to this woman’s beautiful clothes and style.

            Without a word he took a step forward towards the woman and found several spears being held in his direction. With a twitch of his arm the dragons tail flew free and stripped one of the spears closet to him away from its bearer. Every spear in the group was now lowered in his direction, but he didn’t care.

            “I was led to believe that I was not a prisoner here. Do not treat me as such. Why was I brought here?” Reinhardt didn’t know if he would be able to stand his ground against this many trained soldiers without someone using an element against him. He was gambling with an assumption he had made from meeting Roas. They wanted to know what happened but they were intrigued by him. Hopefully that was enough to get him a slightly better treatment.

            The woman raised her hand and lowered the spear of a nearby soldier and took a few delicate steps forward. “You are correct Reinhardt. We have no intention of holding you as an enemy. Our intentions are to make you an ally. My guards are just protective of me and can sometimes become excited by a possible fight.”

            “You may want to find guards who aren’t ready to start a blood bath with every person you come to speak with.” The comment brought a smile to the woman’s lips. From this distance Reinhardt could see her blue eyes. They had a sense of intelligence to them that he wasn’t used to seeing.

            “Again you are correct. I may need to make a few changes to my personal guard, but that will have to wait. We have business to discuss and the rest of the council is waiting for us to arrive.”

          After leaving the site of their momentary confrontation the soldiers appeared less concerned with Reinhardt being near his host. It surprised him how little these soldiers cared now that they had been soothed. He would have assumed that a few of them would at least be suspicious of him still.

            Now walking again he began looking around, trying to figure out everything he could about this army. It was clear that they had plenty of soldiers from Ental. Almost every other soldier bore the uniform of the Ental army, a spear backed by a mountain. Many had more than one sigil but he didn’t recognize any of them. His guess was that they all showed the independent houses they belonged to.

            Ahead of them a large building stood out compared to the rest of the camp. While almost everything else hidden underneath this hill was quickly constructed and made of normal tent cloth this one structure was solid and looked like a house. It would have taken a considerably strong elementalist to build this. Almost four stories tall, this was a very unique construction.

            Guards at the door pulled the large wooden handles, revealing the entrance for them as the tall woman approached. As they passed through the doors their company of soldiers stopped not coming inside. The only person to follow them inside was Roas, who Reinhardt had forgotten was nearby. She didn’t look very happy to have been ignored once their new entourage arrived. Slowing to be besides his only real acquaintance in this strange place, he wanted to ask a few questions.

            “Who is she?”

            “That’s Clara KineTros, wife to the councilor of tactics. It would have been he who ordered you brought to the council if she was sent to meet us.”

            “How many councilors are there?” Reinhardt needed a strong background of what was about to happen if he was to understand the situation he was in. He knew how ill-suited he was this kind of endeavor, having been born to nothing more than a sub-lower class family. With no formal education or training in courtly manners he would stand out in the group, especially dressed as he was.

            “There are ten councilors with one overseer. Only the overseer and three councilors are here at the moment, the rest have stayed with the army.” The phrase ‘with the army’ gave Reinhardt pause.

            “What do you mean by ‘the army’?”

            “This is only a forward division of the army. I am not privileged to know our actual strength in terms of soldiers, but I would estimate that this is only one tenth of our forces, maybe less.” There was a lot going on that Reinhardt didn’t understand. How could a rebel army stand up more than one hundred thousand soldiers? He was in over his head.

            The building was designed for simplicity and ease of movement. One main hallway ran from the front door to a rear exit. A staircase near the entrance gave users access to the upper floors though they didn’t use them. Halfway down the hallway a set of doors stood alone, guarded by a pair of soldiers. These two soldiers didn’t wear the traditional Ental uniforms he had seen outside, but instead wore long brown coats that touched the tops of their boots. Each of the soldiers had two spears black gloves standing in direct contrast to the white spear