Tarvon turned the amulet in his hands. “The spell scroll analyzed the runes and told me the purpose of this device. It is a Dreamscape Amulet. I do not think you will need your oblivion pills with this,” he grinned at me.
The dreamscape amulet sounded pretty remarkable. I asked, “So, what does the amulet do then? Or do I need to pay more gold to find out?” I asked jokingly.
The halfling grunted at my attempt at humor, “They are exceptionally rare for starters, only found in dungeons. There is some variance on how they function but not much.”
“And they are valuable?” I piped in.
“And they are valuable,” he confirmed. “From what I remember from my readings, you wear it against the flesh and channel aether into it, and it pushes you into a dream state. This artifact creates a dream-world environment where you can do anything you want. It allows you to fight, practice skills, and train your mind while you sleep. And you get a full night’s rest as well.” He handed it back to me, “I can order you a book from the Adventurer’s Guild on how to use the artifact?” he offered. “It will detail how best to make use of the artifact.”
“No,” I replied. “And, just to confirm, you will not tell anyone I have this?”
“The item reading is completely confidential,” Tarvon confirmed. “My reputation is at stake.” I nodded and figured it would be less so if Tarvon suddenly ordered a book on the specific artifact.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})“Is the dream different than a normal dream? How do you wake up from it?” I asked as I slid the amulet under my chest armor and into my dimensional space.
The halfling shook his head. “I have told all I can discern from the scroll and my memory. If you want to sell, I can connect with buyers outside the Telhian Empire. You will get twice as much as if you sold it here in the capital to the Telhians.” His tone was neutral, but his offer indicated he did not like the Telhians.
“I think I will hold onto it for a while. Out of curiosity, how much would this be worth?” I asked indifferently.
Tarvon grinned a trader’s smile, “Dungeon artifacts like this are rare. My best guess, five to six thousand outside the Empire. If at auction, it could be more. But the Guild does not host dungeon auctions inside the Empire’s borders,” he added pointedly.
“Thank you, Tarvon.” I stood and left the halfling.
I returned to the Eastern Legion Hall and did not find anyone in our bunk room. My guess is they were all out shopping with their new gold. I removed my own armor and dressed in the clothes I had procured yesterday. If anyone asks, I will profess to have bought them today. As I was leaving the Hall, a female voice called from behind, “Looking awfully sharp this afternoon, legionnaire.” I spun to Hilda with her apron covered in flour coming out of the kitchen.
“Hilda, thank you for the wonderful breakfast. I was just heading out for a…” I was going to say meal but thought that might insult her, “drink.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})She nodded thoughtfully, “Down by the river docks is a tavern called The Boastful Bard. Tell them I sent you; they will charge only a copper for your first. Large copper after that.”
“Thank you!” I said, leaving the Hall. Since Hilda worked for a Praetorian Guard, I was not likely to use her name there as it might be some secret code to keep an eye on me. I might have to stop there on the way back to say I got a drink at her recommended place, though. I was looking for the trade district. My goal was to buy another book on spell forms in non-legion clothes.
I was not going to buy any books for the rare magics. That might draw attention to me. But I did have affinities of five in charm, eight in energy, and the newly added six in earth. All of these were too small to imprint a spell form, but if I found another magic affinity essence in one of these three, it might become strong enough. So my intention was to see what minor spell forms they offered.
I blended into the crowd as I moved toward the palace. The crowd was dense at the intersections, and it was hard to avoid the bustle of people. Someone tried to pick my pocket again. Since I had been on high alert, I noticed a street urchin boy, maybe six or seven, sliding away into the crowd empty-handed. He had searched one of my cloak’s interior pockets and found nothing. The brazen boy came back and attempted my cloak’s other side.
I snagged his wrist as he reached inside, lifting him off the ground with his arm. The crowd parted around us, not wanting to get involved. He squirmed and kicked, trying to free himself. He smelled off, like dried urine. “Stop your struggles, or I will snap your wrist,” I warned him. He calmed down but had a fierce look of defiance in his eyes. I asked, “Where is a good bookstore?”
The thin boy did not seem to understand, “Point me in the direction of a good, respectable bookseller, and I will feed you.”
He softened only slightly but finally answered, “Tell Another Tale.” I looked impatiently at him. “Two streets up and two buildings left,” he muttered. “Let me go!”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})“You lead,” I said, expecting him to run off. But he moved quickly and waited for me to bring him to the storefront.
He turned his back to me, “That cart there has good food.” The food cart vendor eyed the boy suspiciously as we approached. It looked like open-face sandwiches.
“How much?” I asked the man.
“Five copper for a scoop on a slice,” he replied, still watching the boy.
I handed him two large copper, “Four servings for the boy.” He looked surprised, and the boy was drooling as I spoke and wide-eyed at my generosity. I left the cart and the boy to feast.
I entered the bookstore. It had the familiar library scent of aged paper and leather bindings. It was an orderly shop, but only six long double-sided shelves were in the center. An old woman approached me, “Young man, what are you looking for today?”
I smiled at the woman, “My twin nieces just had their tablet coming-of-age assessment. One had an energy affinity of eleven, and the other had an earth affinity of twelve! I hoped to get each of them the most basic book guiding them to a spell form for their affinity.”
The woman’s smile had yellowing teeth and one missing incisor. “Congratulations! Twins are more likely to have a high enough affinity for forming a spell form.” She waved me forward to follow her, “I just received a translation to Telhiam from the Esenhem elves for the energy affinity.” She pulled one of six identical thin books from the shelf. The book had a white leather cover and looked in pristine condition.
I paged through it under her watchful eye. The paper was thicker and a much brighter white than my other books. The script was neat, and the entire book was transcribed by hand, as were my others. I had not seen evidence of printing presses in the Empire. It had seven spell forms inside: three for someone with a ten affinity, two for someone with a twenty affinity, and two for someone with a thirty affinity. “How much?” I asked the old woman.
“Seven gold,” she said, and I winced. “If you purchase an earth reference book, we can discuss a discount.” The earth book was not as impressive, and it was well used. It only had help for three spell forms inside. One for each step of affinity: ten, twenty, and thirty. The elves obviously had better magical knowledge.
Still, these were what I was looking for. I nodded after paging through, and the woman offered, “Nine gold for both.” That was less than I had paid in Macha, but I had no concept of the books’ value.
I planned to buy them but tried to get a little more, “Can you throw in some storybooks? One for each girl?” I only wanted more material to help practice my reading.
“I wish I had an uncle like you growing up,” the old woman gave her gap tooth smile. “I have just the two tales for the young women. Persephone is a tale of the love of a mortal and the God of the underworld.” She pulled out a thin red book. “And, The Trojan War. A war fought for the right to marry a beautiful woman.” I nodded and realized the First Legion had brought the mythic stories of Earth here.
“Agreed,” and I pretended to reach inside my cloak and pulled the nine gold coins into my hand. She smiled and checked each coin before stacking the books together, wrapping them in cloth, and trying the cloth with bands so it was easier to carry.
I left the small bookshop and found the urchin across the street, his belly bloated. The boy was maybe fifty pounds, and each serving must have been a pound in my estimation. He made to move but looked like he might vomit and wisely settled back down against the stone wall of the business. I moved quickly away, heading back to the Legion Hall, not wanting to be followed by the young pickpocket.
Pavel and Benito were in the room when I returned. My satchel of books had been secreted away when I was certain I had no eyes in me. Both legionaries reminded me of the boy, having over-eaten, and they were now paying for it. They moaned on their beds, their armor off. I let them be and went to Castile’s room and knocked. I hoped we could continue the training, but she did not answer.
When I returned to the room, Konstantin was there, “Eryk, good you are back. Change out of your pretty clothes, and let us head to the yard for some training. There are a number of weapon masters stationed here. We can hone your skills some.” He looked at the two on the bed and turned away from them. I thought Konstantin would force them to practice till they vomited, but we left them to their misery in the room. I did not feel special.
I walked with Konstantin to the practice yard. A dozen men were in melee training with various weapons, and two men were practicing archery. I asked, “Where is Castile? Should someone not be with her?”
Konstantin tossed me a practice short sword, and I caught it easily. “She is at the Legatus Legionis’ office. She is recording the deaths of the legion men so she can obtain the death certificates for the Adventurer’s Hall. That way the funds can be transferred to their families.”
I was slightly surprised, “Wow. That was not what I expected.”
Konstantin grunted, “Normally, Adrian would have handled it, but Castile is doing it to confirm the transfer of Brutus, Flavius, Quentin, and Remus to our company. If we do not get them, then our company strength would be just nineteen.”
“I was referring to her getting the funds for our dead companions sent to their families,” I clarified.
Konstantin nodded, “She could have attempted to keep the coin, but that is not who Castile is. Even though she is broke, she promised the men the coin. When you go for lessons with her this evening, tread cautiously. She is not going to be in a good mood. Duke Octavian seized her collector on behalf of the Empire. That was the last thing she had of value that was hers.”
“What? I thought she owned it,” I paused, surprised, in our exchange, and Konstantin whacked me in the ribs for letting my guard down.
“It is almost impossible for a single person to pay for the accounted losses of a city, Eryk. All her assets have been seized, but she can start earning extra coin from assignments again. Duke Octavian made her destitute, but she will rise again,” Konstantin attacked in a series, and I defended well. He paused, “You have improved your physicality.”
I just nodded and attacked. As I made a good counter and scored a glancing strike, I asked, “How does weakening Castile help the Empire?”
Konstantin did not answer as we each added a parrying dagger. After we had worked up a lather and were resting, Konstantin answered my question, “The Emperor needs to maintain a fine balance. He keeps the Dukes happy by looking the other way during their petty grievances. Castile would have more value if she was a purely offensive mage. Instead, she falls in as a utility mage. Something like this would not have been done to Master Mage Durandus.”
“But still Durandus is dead?” I said as we rehydrated from a small fountain in the courtyard.
“I am guessing his brother was supposed to swoop in and take him to freedom when things got out of hand,” Konstantin postulated. Konstantin stood, “Enough rest. Let us see how you do against an unfamiliar opponent.”
I groaned as I stood.
Two hours later, I was nursing my bruises in the hot soaking baths of the Legion Hall. The men I had practiced with were just as good, if not better, than Konstantin. I had paid for the lessons in welt and bruises. There was no point in healing my purple bruises in the baths. I would have to deal with them as I did not want Konstantin to know about my healing ability. One, because he would tell his Praetorian master, and two because there was a fear in the back of my mind, he would go harder on me in practice.
I exited the baths and went to our room. Benito and Pavel had left, and Konstantin had remained in the baths in a deep discussion with the other weapon masters. I had given him two marks today but had paid with twenty-fold on myself. Castile entered the room and looked around as I was folding my new clothes. I could not put them back into my space now, as everyone had seen them. Castile scanned the room slowly with hard and angry eyes, “We can work on your spell form if you wish, Eryk.” Losing her collector was a major blow.
“I would appreciate that,” I said, following her to her private room. I was looking forward to her lessons. They would be a lot less painful than Konstantin’s.
