The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [98]
“They’ve got no right to be in here,” Kozal says.
“I suppose in the strictest sense that is true,” the jovial man states. “But you can be my guests and that will settle that.”
The man in the chair picks up the book and grumbles something as he returns his eyes back to its pages.
“Don’t let Kozal’s unpleasantness give you the wrong impression of us here at the Order of the Scarlet Sword,” the jovial man says. He glances again at the man at the table and whispers to them, “We better find another place where we can talk so we won’t bother him any longer.”
“How about outside in the street,” mumbles Kozal.
Shaking his head at Kozal’s rudeness, the jovial man indicates for them to follow him. “We don’t get many visitors here,” he explains.
“I never heard of the Order of the Scarlet Sword,” Jiron says.
“Not too surprising,” the man replies. “Even here in the Empire it’s not too well known. Being from the north, I would have been surprised if you had heard of it.”
“What is it?” Stig asks.
“It’s kind of like a guild,” he replies. “Those of us who belong to the Order of the Scarlet Sword are mainly comprised of soldiers, fighters, weapon smiths and a few others whose profession has to do with such things. I believe we even have a couple Empire Commanders and Commanders of Ten counted as members.” As he talks he takes them through the room and opens a door on the far side.
The hallway they find themselves in has a very fine carpet lining the floor. The walls are adorned with many fine works of art. “There’s a room down here where we can have some peace and quiet while we talk.”
“Are you a swordsman then?” asks Jiron. From the man’s manner and build, he would hardly consider him a formidable opponent if he were.
“No,” he replies. “I’ve never been one for the actual use of weapons. Rather, I teach those willing to learn.”
He stops before a door on the left side of the hallway and removes a key. Using the key to unlock the door, he opens it and leads them inside. The room they find themselves in, considering the ostentatiousness of what they’ve seen so far, is rather plain. A simple wooden table in the center of the room with chairs set around it upon a bare wooden floor.
“Now, if you will take a seat,” the man replies, “we can discuss whatever it is that brought you here.”
Jiron takes his seat but feels slightly put off by the amicable nature of their host. “Who are you?” he asks.
“Where are my manners?” he asks. “You can all me Ohan.”
“Ohan?” asks Stig. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before.”
Ohan gives him a grin and says, “Not too surprising. In my life I’ve only encountered one other person who had the privilege to be called such. And that was quite a ways from here as a matter of fact.”
“Indeed,” says Jiron.
“You seem awfully…uh…” stammers Reilin.
“Nice?” he asks. When Reilin nods he shrugs and says, “To be honest I’m just bored. My job is to take care of the members here and to keep the House in order. Aside from Kozal, you are the only ones I’ve seen in days. And frankly, he isn’t much of a conversationalist.”
Jiron is beginning to warm up to the man. Giving him a grin he says, “I could see that.”
“Oh, he’s not a bad sort once you get to know him,” he replies. “Just likes to read. Never saw an ex-swordsman read like he does. Anyway, we are getting away from what it is that brought you here.”
“We are looking for a man by the name of Azku,” Jiron explains.
“Azku you say?” he asks.
“Do you know him?” asks Stig.
“I know several men by the name of Azku,” he replies. “Two happen to be members that stop by here from time to time.”
“The one we wish to contact was in Inziala about a month ago,” explains Jiron. “Said he was stopping by here when he left.”
“Hmmm,” Ohan says as he visibly turns inward to think about what Jiron just said. Finally after a full minute of contemplation, he nods and says, “Yes. I think I know