Chapter 22: The Man with Many Answers
They journeyed north to a town called Dilston, reaching their destination within three days. The small group moved swiftly, with Arlen always in the lead and always keeping a distance between himself and both Farrell and Shawn. Even when they rested, be it late at night or for shorter periods in the day, Arlen would sit away from them. He would sit outside the circle of firelight at night, staring up at the moon in silence, naught but a faint shadow to Farrell and Shawn. In the day, he would sit even further away from them, and always with his back to them.
They had travelled with little rest, and when they reached Dilston, all three of them were exhausted from lack of sleep. Arlen, though clearly as tired as Farrell and Shawn, tried hard not to show it.
They entered the town. It was an absolute opposite to the one they had seen before. The town they had left three days ago was dirty, rundown and sad. This town was built with wider streets, allowing rich carriages and merchants selling foreign gifts from their carts to pass easily through. The houses and shops were coloured mostly oranges and yellows and had large open windows. The very air itself felt richer, cleaner. Healthier.
Even the people seemed happier.
‘This is one of the richer towns in the kingdom’ Arlen explained. ‘You won’t find beggars here. Only the most fortunate come to live in this town.’
‘And this is where we will find the man with all answers?’ Farrell asked.
Arlen’s lip twitched in a sneer, and he glared back at Farrell, as if feeling insulted that Farrell had spoken to him.
He skulked off without another word.
Farrell and Shawn exchanged a look, Shawn shrugging apologetically.
They followed Arlen through the gentle curving roads. Farrell saw a few of the many wonderful things that were being sold from some of the stalls. Valuable stones and precious metals painstakingly crafted into the most beautiful and delicate jewellery. The most exquisite clothing made of silks and velvets for both men and women. One stall even sold exotic pets. Fabulous birds in cages with the brightest of colours, strange lizards and very skinny, long-headed cats with bright blue eyes; the cats were tied to leads to keep them from wandering.
Farrell’s attention drifted to some of the buildings that looked like they may have housed guests and travellers.
‘Will we be staying at an inn?’
‘No’ Arlen shot back. Farrell was surprised he had even spoken to him. ‘We will be staying somewhere else.’
They approached a grand building. It was even larger than the home Farrell had left behind, and three stories high.
‘What is this place?’ Farrell voiced. But Arlen, who had decided he had already shared too many words him with, chose to remain silent.
They stopped before the building, and several finely dressed people approached them.
‘Hello sirs’ one of the men said. He was well spoken, well mannered and stood with a proud posture. ‘The master has rooms already prepared for you.’
‘W-what?’ Farrell stammered. ‘But how…?’
‘The man with many answers knows many things’ the man, whom Farrell assumed from that point was a servant, replied.
‘Does he have a name?’ Farrell asked dubiously.
‘Many, and none. Please, let us take your horses.’
Farrell hesitated.
‘I’m sure this is not the same town at heart as the one we left’ Shawn reassured him, passing the reins of his horse to one of the servants. ‘I think it’s ok for us to trust them.’
Arlen’s horse was already being led off by the time Farrell passed the reins over. Farrell watched as the exhausted animals were led away.
‘Don’t worry’ Shawn said, noticing Farrell’s uncertain expression. ‘They will be looked after.’
‘How do you know?’ Farrell muttered.
‘Because I trust Arlen’ Shawn replied.
At that point Farrell realised that Arlen had crept away into the building. He shrugged, and walked after him, entering the building, with Shawn walking by his side.
Inside the main doors, they entered into a large courtyard. It was a beautiful and expensive design, like the rest of the building. Huge columns held up the building around them, and above them the bright blue sky was clear; it was as if the town existed in another world. The town they had come from, the thick smoke from the factories had created a permanent cloud around the place, but here, everything was pure and clean.
Farrell glanced around him. Arlen was nowhere to be seen.
Approaching them was a man, wearing a beautifully fitting robe made of materials bearing very intricate patterns and details. He was proud and tall, wearing many fine rings upon his fingers. He walked with purpose.
‘Good day sirs’ the man spoke in a thick accent, coming to stand before them. ‘Danior has been waiting for your arrival.’
‘Danior?’ Farrell asked.
‘The man with many answers’ the figure grinned slyly. ‘The man you came here to find.’
‘Who is he?’ Farrell asked suspiciously. ‘How does he know we were coming?’
‘The man with many answers has many names, and Danior is one of them’ the man answered, without fully answering Farrell’s question. ‘Danior is the name that most men here know him by.’
‘How did he know we were coming?’ Shawn asked.
‘Like I said’ the figure told them happily. ‘He is the man with many answers.’
‘Arlen must have told him’ Farrell said to the man, trying to make sense of the situation. He immediately felt that this was not a man to be trusted. Farrell instantly thought him to be the type of man who was as slippery as a fish, and would stab you in the back at the first opportunity.
If this is what the servant was like, what was master capable of?
‘Danior has many sources’ the man told them vaguely. ‘He has many little birds here, there and everywhere. There is little that happens that he does not know about, in this kingdom, and in others.’
Farrell’s suspicions instantly grew, and he couldn’t help but glance about him, even looking up to the rooftops in case there hid an assassin.
‘He is very busy at the moment’ the unnamed figure went on. ‘It will be many hours before he is able to see you. In the meantime, let me show you to your rooms.’
Farrell and Shawn walked behind the man as he strode back across the open courtyard. As they went, Farrell took in more of the scenery around them. The courtyard was made of a marble formed into patterns at their feet, coloured pale yellows and faded browns. On the edges of the courtyard were shallow pools were lily pads and flowers floated on the water. In one of the shallow pools in one of the corners of the courtyard, was a fountain spewing water, beside which stood a strange creature Farrell had not seen before. It was a bird of some kind, bright pink in colour, with very long legs, a long neck and a downward pointed beak. Surely Farrell thought, a creature stolen from lands far from here.
Farrell had only a moment to admire its strange beauty, for it was quickly that he noticed the thin chain that held the bird in place. It was a prisoner here, forced to remain where it stood, in order to please the people that were its captors.
Farrell turned away as they crossed an archway at one end of the courtyard, and entered the building once again.
The inside of the building was just as lavish as the courtyard they had just passed. The entire building it seemed was built to be spacious and beautiful. Farrell and Shawn followed the man up a wide set of stairs set in a corner. They rose to the next level of the building, reaching a long corridor where there were a series of doors lined up on both sides.
‘Here is your room’ the nameless man said going over to one of the doors. He produced a small key from his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping back so that Farrell and Shawn could enter. ‘I think you will find everything to your satisfaction. If not, then please ring the bell inside, and a servant will come. Your every need will be attended to.’
Shawn was the first to enter the room. The first thing he saw when he stepped in was a half-naked woman, lying on her side on one of the beds.
‘Ooohh’ the woman cooed seductively. ‘What a handsome young man.’
She was a dark skinned beauty, with exotic almond shaped eyes. Clearly she was born in lands from far away.
‘Sapphire!’ the nameless man barked as Farrell entered the room behind Shawn. ‘You’re in the wrong room. It’s the next one down.’
‘Oh’ Sapphire said, instantly dropping her seductive tone and rising from the bed. ‘Excuse me’ she bowed, slipping past them quickly and vanishing.
‘I’m sorry’ the nameless man bowed. ‘She’s new here. Now is there anything else you need?’
‘No’ Farrell said. ‘Thank you.’
The man bowed to them.
‘Danior will send for you when he is ready, in the meantime’ he smiled slyly, ‘make yourself comfortable.’
When he was gone, Shawn turned to the room, admiring everything around him.
‘Look at this place’ Shawn said in awe. ‘Can you imagine owning such wealth?’
Farrell closed the door behind him, facing the room.
It was a small room, but like everything they have seen so far, it was lavish and beautiful. There were two single beds, positioned against opposite walls and enveloped in rich velvet colours with large cushions. Shawn immediately collapsed on one of the beds, stretching cat-like before folding his arms behind his head.
‘I could get used to this.’
‘This isn’t a holiday’ Farrell replied, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
‘I know that’ Shawn replied, his tone becoming serious.
‘Where do you think Arlen went?’
‘I don’t know. But I’m sure he can take care of himself.’
Farrell glanced towards Shawn, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then changed his mind. He closed his mouth again and turned away.
‘You may as well sit down’ Shawn told him. ‘We’ll probably be here a while.’
Farrell pushed himself off the wall, wandering over to the empty bed and sitting heavily on it. His bones felt like lead, his muscles sore. After so many years of being inactive, residing in the small town he had lived for so long, travelling so far and having so much happening in only a few short days had taken its toll on him. He felt weary, both physically and mentally drained.
Farrell ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply.
‘Are you ok?’ Shawn asked him.
‘Yeah.’
‘Good.’
Farrell glanced over at Shawn.
‘How have you been keeping these last few years?’
‘You’re asking me this now?’ Shawn rolled onto his side. ‘Do you really want to know?’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Well’ Shawn replied. ‘You’ve hardly spoken to me or my family since my father died.’
As Shawn continued to speak, Farrell’s mood began to sink.
‘I know it was hard for you’ Shawn went on, ‘but Arlen didn’t give into grief.’
Farrell fell silent. He jerked his head away in annoyance; then looked back at Shawn.
‘How is Gracie doing? I hear she’s recently married.’
‘She is’ Shawn replied, allowing the subject to be changed. ‘Her husband is a merchant, a wealthy one at that. I hear they’re doing quite well together. She lives far away now, but visits us often.’
Farrell felt his heart dampen as he thought of his own daughter, and he struggled to fight against the wave of despair and misery that threatened to engulf him as he thought of the seemingly impossible task he was faced with. Searching for someone who was a child when they were taken over ten years ago, she would have changed drastically over that time. She would surely be unrecognisable from the little girl he had known. The little girl who used to run up and down the stairs, playing with that silly little bird whose name he had long since forgotten. And then a thought struck him that cut into his heart.
What if she doesn’t recognise me?
How could he possibly succeed in his task?
‘How old is she now?’ Farrell continued, speaking to Shawn and forcing his negative thoughts down.
‘She’s twenty.’
They talked, catching up on all that had happened to them over the years in what little time they had. They spoke of many things, and it didn’t feel like too long afterwards, that there came a knock on their door. A figure entered, it was the same man as before, the one Farrell didn’t trust.
He bowed his head to them, smiling shrewdly.
‘Danior will see you now.’
The room they entered was ostentatious. It was small, though just like the rest of the rooms they had seen, no expense had been spared on it. Farrell and Shawn sat on the two seats placed before the desk at the back of the room. By the doorway stood a guard, unnecessarily heavily armoured, he stepped back as a figure entered the room, and sat in the large seat behind the desk. It was Danior, the man they had waited to see. Lean and muscular, he dressed flamboyantly but modestly, with long sleeves and gloves which covered his hands. Farrell noticed light scarring around his face, similar to the scars he had seen worn by soldiers and veterans. He looked to be in his sixties, but had aged well. He was handsome, with black hair slicked back and a pointed beard.
‘So’ the wise man began leaning forward, ‘what would you like me to help you with?’
‘I am looking for someone’ Farrell began hastily. ‘We both are’ he added, glancing briefly at Shawn beside him.
‘Who is this person?’
‘A girl’ Farrell replied.
Danior lifted a quill and began to scribble some notes on a page before him. ‘Do you know where she is?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Where was she last seen?’
‘I don’t know.’
Danior hesitated. ‘What does she look like?’
‘I don’t know’ Farrell replied.
Danior looked Farrell in the eyes, brow coming down in mild annoyance as he lowered his quill.
‘When did she go missing?’
‘Twelve years ago.’
‘And you’re only just now looking for her?’
Farrell could think of no answer that was good enough to give. Danior groaned, sighing into his hand.
‘Let me get this straight’ he said leaning forward after a time. ‘You haven’t seen her in twelve years, you have no idea what she looks like, where she is, if she is even still in this country, and by the sound of it you don’t even know if she’s alive, and you wish to find this person. Is that correct?’
‘It is’ Farrell replied uncertainly.
’Let me ask you a question. Do you know anything about her?’
‘Her name’ Farrell said. ‘It’s Amaia….she’s my daughter.’
‘The girl with two fathers’ Danior replied immediately.
‘What?’
‘Tell me’ Danior said briskly, pushing his quill and paper to the side and rising from his chair. ‘Why are you wasting my time like this?’
‘Wait!’ Farrell called after him as the man walked around his desk and began to stride away.
‘He hasn’t told you has he?’ Danior shot turning back to him. ‘Arlen. He already knows where Amaia is. He has done for years.’
The silence the wise man left Farrell in was one of utter shock.
Later that evening, Farrell entered Arlen’s room.