The Thief's wit.
Names of civilizations:
Khetra - Ancient Egypt
Varanagian - Vikings.
Karamania - Ancient Persia
Lacedomian League - Hellenic City States
Jiang - Chinese Empire
Koyro - based on Gorgeygo, one of the golden ages of Korea's history.
The doors of the hall opened. Haxamanis turned to see a muscled, larger than life figure stomping his sandals into the Hall of Xerxes. A Khetran wearing make-up. But not just any makeup. This was the guard from the fabled Pharaoh of Khetra. The glorious tales of the Khetrans beating back the Sea-People had spread all over the Empire, and Haxamanis as a thief had many contacts in Khetra. But an imperial bodyguard of the Pharaoh? That he had never seen before. Wearing golden armor, his headset fashioned to the style of a lion, holding a khopesh curbentded sword and bolt of Raan, the great guard bowed.
The King announced him. 'This is Namuna, son of Erebus, and descendant of the House of Ptan. Or in simple words, the bodyguard of the great Pharaoh of Khetra. He was sent personally to help us in this mission.'
Namuna bowed. 'It is my duty to protect you, oh great-king of kings.'
'That will do Namuna.'
Another door opened. Haxamanis turned to look at a man from the East of Vishaputra, from the Kingdom of Koyro. This man that arrived was certainly the most stranging looking man he'd ever seen. Wearing a headband on his head, he wore a coned hat and held a sword similar to those of the Hatekayama Samurai. The man bowed. 'From the Kingdom of Koryo, I Pak-San-Won, prince pledge my allegiance to the mission to retrieve the fire of truth. My great king, Tajeo has sent me as the Jiang threaten our borders, and the Lacedomonians have already encroached onto our territory.'
Haxamanis was swirling in his head at the thought of all nations helping each other. Karamania had immortals aplenty. Any one of them was better suited for the job than an ordinary thief plucked from the most insignificant city of the Empire. There was a particular saying that one should never get involved in politics that have a pure and honest heart. It was said that it brought out the worst in them. Now, he felt like a mere mouse in front of the two warriors. A prince, a warrior, and a thief. How extraordinary could that have been? Haxamanis had no idea what to make of the whole thing. He was clear on one thing however. Retrieve the fire of truth.
'You will make your way from Cormana to the river Halys, and then towards Chaopses through the royal road. This will be no easy journey to journey through Karmanaia. Therefore, an airship has been arranged. Beware. Our enemies have pirate airships and patrol airships. Our fleet is already impressive in battle but its resources cannot be stretched to the far. On the far edges of the Empire, you will not receive any aid. The rogue Khetran is in Lacedomonia, with the Jiang having put a blockade on our ships entering the cities. And who's to say that your journey from Cormana will make it to your destination? Where-ever you go, who-ever you speak to, trust no one. You might write the story of a tale that will be told for ten thousand generations to come. Am I clear?'
The Prince, the Bodyguard, and the Thief answered in chorus. 'Yes, your majesty!'
****
Haxamanis leaned on the wall of the air-port. Vast airships of huge sails entered back and forth. Airships from many empires and kingdoms arrived and left. Passenger airships and museum airships often docked down in the great palace. The wealth of emissaries and dignitaries from the other nations had exposed Haxamanis to a world he had never seen before. Humming to himself, his introduction with the Prince and the Bodyguard had been somewhat unsatisfactory to say the least. The Prince refused to talk with him, and the bodyguard while receptive in response did not really respect him.
Princes and Bodyguards. Haxamanis twitched his lips. They were all the same. They were fools. The fact being that Pak-Son-Won and Namuna couldn't say much to him either because of the King's grace, meant that he had some advantage over them. Only he didn't know how to exert his influence. Dismissing these thoughts with a mere flick of removing dust from his shoulder, he advanced towards the great airship that stood in front of his view. Namuna was already organising the crew and barking orders. Pak-Son-Won stood, brimming with pride while arrogantly parading his sword. The crew members, all Karamanians muttered to themselves about the strange exotic sword that the Koyron man had brought with him. Haxamanis walked up the wooden ladder attached to the port and waited until Namuna and Pak-Son-Won came in front of him.
Namuna spoke first. 'What do you want thief?'
'We need to leave soon. The fire of truth has to be caught first.'
Pak-Son-Won intervened. 'And what's to say that once we capture this fire of truth, that you'll be wanting to have it for your own means?'
Haxamanis chuckled. 'If I'd wanted to be the King of the World, I'd already been ruling it by now. You two would be slaves at mere best.'
Pak-Son-Won and Namuna glanced at each other. Namuna nodded. 'Very well then. The Captain's about to come.'
The Captain was a man from the North of Vishaputra, Haxamanis thought. A most rugged and large man that didn't give two shits about anyone's fancy pass arse. A Varanagian. Those people believed in dying in battle only to go to Valhal, and fight every single day until Ragnar came. His name, Gunnarmudson. 'So these are the three little shits that the King provided me eh? Couldn't come up with the best could he?'
Pak-Son-Won bristled before Namuna glanced back at him. 'And what's a Varanagian commanding a Karamanian ship so far away from home?'
Gunnarmudson shrugged. 'I was hired by the King of Kings himself. Now, we have to get going. Storm doesn't look like it but it'll brew.' He said, before turning back and yelling orders to his crew members.
Haxamanis and his world had changed overnight. From a mere thief that only wanted to be famous in the Empire, he was now saving an altar of truth. It was not often that anyone's life could be changed within a single moment. Now he had to figure out what he was going to do. Winning Namuna's trust would not be easy, and Pak-Son-Won, the prince of a Kingdom was too arrogant to listen to anyone but himself. Perhaps not. Perhaps if. Who knew what would happen? The ship made a loud noise as it arose into the air.
****
The wind blew into his hair. Namuna brushed it back before sitting down and leaning on the ship's stairs and chewed on a piece of straw, thinking about his life up till now. Life had been hard on him ever since he had lost the love of his life. As he became more adept in warfare, he had become obsessed with glory and money. And he lost her. Without him even realizing. The more he kept bragging about his newfound glory as the Pharaoh's bodyguard, the more he lost her, pushing her away. If there were things in life that he had gained, he had lost what was also personal to him. Becoming the bodyguard of a Pharoah was no easy task. Summoned by the General Ptaha to serve, he had done so faithfully. However, now he wished for a new purpose in life.
A new purpose in life which would make him feel happy. Make him feel resplendent. More importantly, devoid of the mistakes that he had committed. When he would go to the Gods at the time of his fate, he would simply lay out every single thing he had done. It was the least any man could do in front of Orissa, the lord of the underworld. A new life would bless him with the changes that he wished. And learning from them was vital. He had tried to pursue her, but she refused his steps. Sooner or later, she left him for someone else. Namuna could stare at the blank cold heart of his past, and regret the decisions he had made. In his youth, he had become a man of stature and greatness. In his middle age, he was now a man of regret and pain. In his old age, he would have a happy life with a new family. He didn't know what else to do apart from that.
****
Haxamanis and Namuna exited the airship once it had disembarked on the port of Pyrgia. The city was an odd bumbling mix of desert merchants and rugged thievery. Pak-Won-Son had refused to enter into the city, having become distracted by the exotic ladies of the secret brothels. The two had given up hope on him. Rumors had set afoot that a Khetran spy was planning on subterfuge. Turn the people against the King, and a full-scale rebellion would be on the hands. It was no true statement to make that the King of Kings could not travel to every single province of the Empire. And that provided the perfect opportunity to upstage rebellion in the far-flung provinces where authority had no say.
Haxamanis turned to Namuna as they sat at the plaza's bench. 'What do you think then? Didn't expect to see former comrades of yours spurring rebellion did you?'
'What I do, thief, is none of your business. What I think of my former comrades, is nothing to me. Those that raise their arms against the Divine Pharaoh will suffer.'
Haxamanis smirked. 'How divine Namuna? The King of Kings is just that. A King. Sure, his spies and satraps keep watch of the provinces, but you can't even travel around the empire without going on an escape route of an airship.'
Namuna raised his eyebrows. 'I thought Karamanians weren't supposed to be critical of their holy Emperor?'
Haxamanis chuckled. 'In these provinces near the bay of Deshekh, no one cares. You can say what you like.'
'I'd be more careful if I were you Haxamanis. Never under-estimate a King.'
'I don't. I'm too carefree to do such a crime then.'
Haxamanis arose. 'Enough talking. Where do you think he'll be?'
'If there's one thing I know Haxamanis, is that us Khetrans can't avoid beer. He'll be at an inn. But he won't disguise himself so promptly. We are masters of deceptions.'
Haxamanis chuckled again. 'That you are. I should like to visit Khetra one day.'
'It will be my pleasure to escort you then.'
'Indeed.'
****
Haxamanis and Namuna walked towards the open air tavern which was made out of cheap rock and sandstone. Sitting on a bench, they ordered two beers. The two observed the audience around to see any Khetran. For hours they observed, and for hours, they received nothing. Not even a sign of a Khetran. Namuna wanted to move before Haxamanis grabbed his hand.
Haxamanis spoke. 'Don't leave.'
Namuna shoved off the thief's grip. 'And why should I? We've been sitting here for hours and nothing's happened.'
'Patience is required above all else.'
'Sounds like a well-off scholar. Now if you don't mind me thief, we've got work to do. And I don't intend on sitting on my arse all day and doing nothing about it!'
Namuna raised his khopesh sword, flinging it to the wall. It collapsed. The audience assembled in the tavern quickly retreated in fear. Haxamanis muttered ugly words at the sight of Namuna's foolishness. The spy they were hunting didn't seem to be here. Haxamanis arose from his table and saw a shrouded cloth at the end of the inn's corner. Picking it up, he smelled it. Copper. He was here then. He'd been watching them. Arising, he saw Namuna and the Innkeeper brawling at each other. Stupid Khetran. He thought to himself.
The Innkeeper slammed his hand on the table. 'I want my money back Khetran! You drove away my customers foolish Khetran! You'll have to pay for it.'
'I keep telling you, you're wrong. There's a spy-'
The Innkeeper laughed. 'What spy? There's no spy in the province of Deshekh, Khetran! The only thing that comes here is merchants from Jiang and spice markets. Rotten fleas and all. What, did you think I was the only fool apparent here not to realize that only Karamanians come here? You must be joking me!'
Haxamanis glanced at Namuna's face being woven into the web of deceit that the Innkeeper had casted upon him. It only took a glance for the thief to realize who the actual fool here was. Namuna was being spun into the innkeeper's lies. He decided not to follow it for now. He'd let the warrior make up his mind sooner or later.
'Well then, we'll repay your loss. But I have one question. Where would a Khretran spy go if he came across here?'
'Across an old ruined temple. I'd say that's where he went. Damn Khetrans.'
'I'll make a deal then inn-keeper. We find the spy, and we can get money from the ruined temple to reimburse your losses. How does that sound?'
'Fine then. But you'd better have my money when you come back!'
Namuna flinched at the quick wit of the thief's calculations. Haxamanis nodded, grabbing him as they exited the inn.
Namuna stared at him. 'A deal? Are you an idiot? We don't have even have the money to pay him back.'
Haxamanis replied back. 'All in good time. We're making our way to the temple ruins.'
'What good would it do me to visit an old Pharaohs tomb? God forbid it to be Nakahasha, or that idiot Aten that imposed himself as the only God in the entire universe.'
'I thought you had an affinity for the Pharaohs anyway.'
'Oh, I do. But not of all they are grateful. They're a bunch of ungrateful idiots put on the throne.'
Haxamanis chuckled lightly. 'Indeed.'
'Where is the temple anyway?'
'That we'll find out. But first, find Pak-Won-Son. He'll be in a brothel somewhere...'
****
Sure enough, the thief's instincts turned out right. The prince had been brawling in a foreign language that no one understood. Most likely even the woman were half-besotted with him at the brothel. Until the mistress owner came in and kicked him out. They had found the richly dressed prince in a pile of mud and wood in a stable's hen. Pak-Won-Son had ranted for hours and hours until Namuna punched him in the face. They soon found themselves escorted by the guards of the town into the slums for causing trouble and mishem with the woman. Thanks to the mistress's complaints.
The thief, prince and the bodyguard sat around a small hove of fire near the houses slumping each other. The coldness had set in, and many of the slum's residents had gone out to see the local play of Xartaxa the warrior who had crossed a thousand suns to defy the great demon of the mountain. Of course, it was cheaply run, and no one cared because this was a far-flung province of the empire. No one really bothered ever to come in the first place. Haxamanis shoved a stick into the fire and leaned on the wood. Namuna glanced before sighing. Pak-Won-Son lay slumped and moody, unwilling, treacherous like a leach.
'Something troubling you thief?'
Haxamanis chuckled lightly. 'You know I thought we were going to achieve great things together.'
'Great things? Aren't we doing your King's bidding? Isn't that enough?'
'Isn't the fire of truth supposed to reveal our truest desires?'
Namuna stared at the night sky and shook his head. 'There's no fire of truth. Nonsense.'
'Ha, says you Naumna. Don't you believe in the Gods?'
'I do. But this path...why would your King, the greatest king in the land I would add, send us three? Why not a whole squadron of immortals if he wanted the fire of truth so badly?'
'It's been said that this fire of truth has lasted our empires for centuries. During times of war, it was used as a prediction to win battles. Against Aleksander, when he came to Persepolis. He set foot in the halls of the ruined palace, before touching his hands into the fire.'
'I suppose he didn't end up very well then.'
'He burnt right on the spot.'
Namuna shook his head slower. As if he'd sensed something deeper in the meaning of a thief's words. 'So it is true then.'
'Don't tell me you want the fire of truth Namuna. There's plenty of people wanting it.'
'Excuse me...about this fire of truth....where is it?'
Namuna laughed out loud at Pak-Won-Son's curiosity. The lad had said something after all.
Haxamanis grinned. 'That's for us to find out.'
'But...surely we should go now. Wait...where are we going?'
Namuna gulped a drink of beer before burping out loud. His grin widened at the prince's wretched coil of digust wrapping around his head like a snake. 'Really Prince? You don't know? You really don't fucking know do you? What do you think this whole trip has been about? Retrieve the fire of truth, give it back to the Karamanian King, and then go home! That's all there is to it.'
'Ok...'
'Ok? Is that all you have you big poncy posh-'
'Don't swear at me! I'm royalty remember. You'd do well not to harm me.'
'Why you smug bas-'
Haxamanis shouted. 'Enough! We're leaving.'
Namuna poured his cup with more beer before gulping. 'Leaving where?'
'To the abandoned temple.'
'Ha. I don't follow orders from a thief. Him, the little weakling I can do.'
'For once the bodyguard is right.'
Haxamanis nodded. 'Well then, I presume this trip is over.'
Pak-Won-Son arose. 'No. I'll be leading the trip.'
'Ha. And whose's your local guide around here? Me! The thief.'
Namuna spat. 'For once, the thief's right. He's the only Karamanian here that knows the place prince.'
'Then...'
Haxamanis widened with a wider grin. Revenge was now in his court. 'We surrender ourselves to the Governor as mercenaries.'
Namuna arose, for the first time displaying his broad shoulders and huge height, over-towering the prince and the thief. He stomped towards Haxamanis. 'You dare do that, and I'll cut off your hands.'
Haxamanis shrugged. 'So?'
'So? What do you mean so you fucking thief, do you have any idea of what this will do to us-'
'I'm the Karamanian here, Khetran. Better remind yourself of that. And whose's viewpoint will they take? Mine or yours?'
****
Namuna struggled to hold his breath. The ten pangs of hot iron steamed into his flesh. A butt-wacker as they called them, used a massive wooden board to slap Namuna's bum harder and harder. Meanwhile, the Prince was being forced into the clothes of a beggar inside the dungeon of the Governor's palace. Haxamanis smiled at the Governor. 'So you see, these two idiots have come to spy on us, Governor.'
The Governor gave the most bored look he had ever given in his entire life while sitting on his chair being accompanied. 'You really think this is worth my time?'
'Of course, Governor. Why would you not be, the great orator-'
The Governor raised his hands. 'Yes that'll be enough, Haxamanis I've heard it. So these two mercenaries, a Khetran and a Goryeo....they came all the way from their lands to the worst place in the Empire? Whatever for?'
'I cannot say...'
'Do you want to be boiled alive?'
Haxamanis bowed down. 'No!'
'Do you wish to kill me?'
'No!'
The Governor arose and kicked Haxamanis. 'I don't know how you even got here. Word of your fame has spread Haxamanis.' The Governor crouched down until he could see Haxamanis's frightened expression. 'Did you really think I wouldn't know who was coming into town? You do know very well that these two foreigners aren't from around here. One's royalty, one's a bodyguard. The question is, what are you then? Come to rob me?'
Namuna glanced at Haxamanis, while Pak-Won-Son expressed shock.
'No...sire. I do not-'
'Do you want to end up being eaten up by animals?'
'Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!'
'Then rise.'
Haxamanis arose as did the Governor.
The Governor sighed. 'Don't waste my time here idiot. Tell me why you are here or it's you and these three condemned to be in a Jiang jail.'
'Never!'
'Then tell me, why have you come here?'
Haxamanis glanced at the two men before sighing. 'The fire of truth.'
'STOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPP!' The Governor's voice rose like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
'The fire of truth? That's only in the King's palace,'
'Well he sent the three of us.'
'Evidence?'
Haxamanis shuffled out of his thick clothing a letter, before handing it over to the Governor.
The Governor tutted. 'Any idiot worth his salt would think twice that this is a forgery. It isn't. It's the King's seal alright. Guards! Redress the men back to their clothes, give them food and shelter.'
Haxamanis's jaw opened wide. Namuna and Pak-Won-Son quickly hurried to the guards, grabbing their clothes and armour. They bowed before leaving. The Governor nodded. 'Do you know why you came here?'
'Yes. To retrieve the altar of fire and truth.'
'No. Because there is more than this that meets the eye.'
'Governor?'
'We can't let these two foreigners take the prize. You know that as well as I do.'
'I won't let them.'
'Really? There is a reason it has been fought over boy. It tempts the corrupt. It does not tempt the good-hearted. But it can turn their hearts into black and ash should they ever become corrupt.'
'And how do you know all this? You wouldn't be sold out then?'
'No. I've been wary overruling this dreadful province. Plus if the King knew about me helping you, I guess I'd go into his good books. It'd be nice to get rid of the maurading Jiang bandits.'
'We must go to the abandoned temple.'
'Ah yes. That place. Don't go there.'
'Why?'
'It's a fighting pit between Karamanians, Jiang, and Lacedomians. Each wants a share of that temple's riches.'
'Well, that's not nice.'
'But...I could let you have half the profit if you were willing...'
'We could. But we have a long journey ahead of us.'
The Governor shook his head in agreement. 'Indeed. This is the first step to finding the spy. The Lacedomian cities are not particularly welcoming to us Karamanians, but we get alongside them well enough. I'll provide you a regiment of my best guards. They're crack troops, not the best when compared to the immortals, but they're good at defending.'
'Thank...you'
'Oh don't thank me. Don't ever thank for me anything boy. This world is vast and dangerous and I'd rather you stay away from politics and enjoy your life. It is a nasty and vicious game that turns good men into bad and corrupted men. I'm coming with you.'
'With us?'
'I've got no wife, no children, plus an extra Karamanian wouldn't hurt would it?'
'I could do with a comrade from my own empire.'
'Then we have an agreement Haxamanis. We'll set out for tomorrow.'