Page 8 "Lord of the castle"
The first stretch of Hanor's road to wealth was littered with an army of stones, between which he meandered in his well-worn leather boots. Closer and closer, the faint clamore of the city pierced the dense mountain silence with the muted tolling of the bells, the timbre of a ship's horn, some mysterious bangs and distand shouts. He felt called by Holmen, where suddenly, with the help of a barely perceptible stone in the pouch attached to his thigh, so many possibilities appeared.
At first, his steps and plans were cautious, limited to buying a set of clothes, a rucksack, a dagger, renting a room and investing the rest wisely in one commodity or another. But with the sloshing contents of the bottle, his journey and future gained momentum. As quickly as he downed the strong wine in the behemoth, in his mind he was climbing the next rungs of success. With a few shrewd decisions, he went from being a simple trader to a prosperous merchant with his own share of the holkon mine. By the time he reached the northern outskirts of the city, he could already see himself as the ruler of Holmen, perched in a citadel rising from the hill. He was brought back to earth by the rapidly approaching stampede of horses' hooves. Four condottieri, armed to the teeth, passed him at a crawl, paying no attention to their future ruler, who for a moment looked more like a drunken vagabond than a lord of the castle.
He made his way towards the city flarkt, a patchwork of stretched canvas that stood out against the dark blue of the bay. Music, volleys of laughter and the din of the human crowd were already emanating from there, setting in motion the wheels of the city's commercial power and Hanor's commercial sense. It lead him directly to the jeweller's tent. Ignoring his outward appearance and the lack of a clear plan of action, he entered the surprisingly large and well-lit space of the leather yurt. Inside, by a glass display case, an aging, corpulent man was standing in front of a young woman. In her hands in the light of the holkon lamps shimmered a necklace with a golden peacock. However the brilliance of this jewel was overshadowed by her natural grace, slender figure and painted confidence, highlighted by her neat raven-black braid.
'Dug Kolmen!' Hanor pronunced a little too loud, his voice betraying a slight drunken slur. The jeweller measured him over his colourful encrusted binoculars, that had an elongated jeweller's monocle attached to one side, resemling an one-eyed chameleon perched on his bony nose. He waved meaningfully in the direction of the exit and shouted: 'The tavern two tents ahead!“ Hanor stood there mute, looking only at the girl. She gave him an indifferent look before turning her attention back to the necklace. The man, not seeing his reaction, moved towards him with a heavy step that awakened Hanor's primal instincts. 'I have a nugget of Holcon,' came out of Hanor surprisingly sober. He added, 'Take it now, and I'll give you a fair price.'
The man stopped directly in front of Hanor, his grey, inquisitive eyes narrowed.'Let me see,' he said. Hanor slowly pulled out the blue stone, which the jeweller took with his small eager hands and moved towards the mahogany desk where magnifying glasses and small tools for precision work glittered. But he stopped halfway and groaned, 'What on earth?' He began to walk nervously and look around the oval interior of the tent, repeating over and over 'She's stolen it, stolen it...'. Finally, he pulled the exit curtain wide open and called out: 'Guards, guards!' He turned to Hanor, pointed a finger at him and said 'You must be in cahoots!'
'But, but, but I don't know her!' began Hanor, desperate to leave this place, but at the same time not wanting to part with his shining guarantee for the future.
Decisions made on the spur of the moment often have a tumultuous end, especially those made under the influence of port wine. That is why Hanor, who had decided to reclaim his property by force, broke under the hail of wooden clubs with which the guards were armed. Time had slowed and the pain no longer seemed to affect him. He felt separating from his body and was finally consumed by a nameless darkness.
